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Sfstory Log 022

Subject:     Arriving in alterverse 1
From:        Tennessee H. Cowboy (THC8650 at TNTECH)

Arriving in alterverse 1, known to its super-egotistical inhabitants as "the
universe" in their vain notion that they inhabited the only multiverse in
existance, 357 had the HMS Golden Lance swung into orbit arount Beta Microba
IV.  He openned hailing frequencies and awaited a reply.  Not a long wait.

"What can I do for you, 357?" came the message from the planet below.

357 adjusted the screen until it showed an erect-walking canoid with
opposable thumbs.  "It depends on how advanced your technology is, Wile.  We
have some major problems here.  I'm sending down Doctor Spleen and a crate
of Spam.  He'll explain the rest."

"Why 357," said Wile.  "You know my ACME technology is the most advanced in
the explored multiverse.  I await Doctor Spleen with confidence.  Wile out."

Soon, Doctor Spleen had been TTT'd down to the planet's surface, while the
HMS Golden Lance sailed magestically in orbit around it.  Well, would you
believe limped helplessly around the planet while 357 cleaned the Spam
filter on the ABPSAR (Automatic Beet Peeler and Sub-Atomic Re-integrator).
357 began explaining his actions to Val.

" you see, with those two twisted geniuses working together, combining
both the power of Spam and the technology of ACME, they should be able to
afro-engineer something that will help us find Dvax5."

=Dvax5 has been around for years.  Why this sudden rush to destroy it now?=

"I don't know.  Ask Sabre.  It was his idea."

=Good enough,= responded Val, who knew better than to question an author.

Down on the surface of Beta Microba IV, Doctor Bing Von Spleen and Wile were
enjoying the aspects of recreational drug abuse while considering possible
ways of combining Spam with ACME.

"Let's just put a bunch of parts and a slab of Spam into a box and shake it
until something falls together," said Spleen.

"Good idea," agreed Wile, wondering why the Doctor's face was melting off
his head.

"What ever happened to Chester?"

"He moved on to yellower pastures."

Later in the afternoon, spurred on by a sense of duty and 357's hourly
threats to blast the planet out from under them, they finished their device.
They called 357 and asked him to come done and take a look for himself.

"Use the Temporal Teleporter Terminal to send me down, Val," ordered 357.

=If you insist.  But shouldn't we just land, seeing as we're going to have
to add that thing to my systems sometime.=


Showing off a tad, Val had the HMS Golden Lance zip through twelve other
alterverses on the way down to the ground, causing the ship to radiate a
rainbow of colors upon landing.  It also caused her to miss the designated
landing spot and instead crush the local Mariot hotel, but that was no big
loss.  357 stepped off the ship and began looking for Wile and Spleen.

He found them hiding behind the rubble of the hotel, trying to look
inconspicuous among the survivors.  A difficult thing to do, as they were
sitting next to a twelve foot high silver, red, and green mechanism that
reeked strongly of Spam.

"What is that?" asked 357, waving vaguely in their direction.

"It's a crushed Mariot hotel," answered Wile.

"I think he means the machine," whispered Spleen.

"Oh," Wile mumbled.  "Well, it's the ACME Spam/Nuclear Inter-Functionary

"The what?" said 357.

"The ACME SNIFFER," said Doctor Spleen proudly.   "And we've got it set to
detect dangerous computers.  All we have to do is attach it to the rear of
the ship."

=You're not sticking that thing up my ass!!!!= shouted Val.

*This may take a little time.*

***** Entry appended 04:25 on Thu, 05/26/88 by THC8650 at TNTECH    # 250 *****
Subject:     wherin the fate of Galahad is revealed
From:        Eric, Lord Sabre (BURNS at MAINE)

     The computer module appeared on the small transporter platform,
flikering in silver and gold the way it did on the ORIGINAL Star Trek
series.  Not the blue flickering effect of the movies, not the
Red Klingon transporter of ST:IV, and not the Next Generation way either.
This was the original effect--which meant its technology and fx were
abyssmally primitive by todays standerds.
     The bearded man operating the controls cackled a bit.  He looked
a little like Gene Roddenbarry mated with Ghandi, and sounded a bit like
Charles Manson on a REALLY bad day.
     His name was Muck-Luck, and he was Omnidangrous.
     He picked up the module.  "Heh heh!  NOW I shall finally be able to
decipher the plans and plots of Matt DeForrest and slay him, reverting
MY omniscience account back to me!"
     Up in the neather zone in Alterverse # 233DON'TTRYITAUTHORSONLY,
the Author known as Sabre passed the page just typed to two women.  Both
women had auras, though they were the Silver auras of the Proofreaders
And Spelling Correctors, instead of the Golden aura of the Author.
     "Hmmmm," said Dr. Abigail Ann Young, "You finally seem to have
learned to spell 'omniscience,' Sabre."
     "Thank you, ma'am...." said Sabre meekly.
     "But decypher is spelled d-e-c-Y-p-h-e-r," said Debbie, snickering.
     "Ah, yes."  Said Sabre, terminally embarrised by this.  However,
since NONE of the authors could adaquetely spell, he was glad to have them
     But that is neither here nor there.
     Muck-Luck set the module down onto a small table, next to a very
good looking egg salad sandwich and a large mug of beer.  "All right,
then, with you I shall finally have the knowledge of DeForrest's plans!"
     &Quit being so melodramatic!& said Galahad, annoyed.
     "Hmph!  I'll have you know I have ways to make you talk!"
     &So what's stopping me?  I wanna see DeForrest and Madisen get
their collective buttocks nuked, thank you!&
     "You do?"
     &Sure!  I mean, they let that bastard Tetwaters blow me up!
I mean, they didn't even TRY to stop her!  Jesus, that steams me!&
     "Tetwaters?  TRUDY Tetwaters?  She's a girl!  A lass of seventeen!
She liked my name!"  Muck-Luck, despite his gruff exterior and downright
evil interior, had a soft spot for the girl, as she had been really nice
to him without even requiring threats...and she had a great--
     &Sorry. pal, but this girl was twenty-seven and a half, according
to the biopattern in my Transix file!  She's also a Time Police Major,
and a licensed heroine!&
     "I see--that must be, way back in the last large scale plotline,
Satan wanted me to kill her along with everyone else--to try and
prevent her from growing up into a threat!"  Muck-Luck clapped his
hands together in satisfaction.
     Up above, Deb nodded appreciably.  "Nice to see you're at least
trying to tighten up loose ends, she said."
     Dr. Young added, "and Trudy being an eventual space heroine on a
par with the Intern does a lot to offset the Cowboy's sexism!"
     Sabre nodded and blushed, though it was impossible to see through
the Golden aura.
     Back in RealSpace, Muck-Luck said "All right, spill it!  What are
Madisen and DeForrest planning?"
     &Well, the two of them, Captain Steve Vogel, Time Police Major
Trudy Tetwaters, Lameduck, Space Commander Buzz Williams, Bert, Tachi,
Toni, Bubba, Zark and Louie all plan to mount an attack on the
Destructionvax5 Sattilite, and destroy its Omnivax core.&
     "WHAT?????!!!!!!!"  The Destructionvax5 account was the last
superaccount Muck-Luck still had!  He couldn't afford to lose it!!!!
     Debbie looked up.  "How did Galahad find out about Louie, Zark, and
Bubba?  They had no contact with the HMS Millenium Badger."
     "OH, um...well...Galahad read it in SFSTORY, but never mentioned
it to Matt."
     "Quick thinking," said Dr. Young.
     "Who says my writings sexist," asked Cowboy.  "Hey, McCoy, do you
think its sexist?"
     "Well, maybe a little sexist," said Pat McCoy.
     "Oh yeah, look who's talkin'!  After thet posting with Toni gettin'
abused and next to no humor at all, I wonder what Story you're writin'
for!  Sfstory's a comedy!"
     "Hey, look, at least my writing has literary merit, cowpoke!  It
sure beats the same jokes over and over, like you, Sabre, and Nathan!"
     "Oh sure, pick on Nathan while he's away!  That's low, McCoy!!!!"
     "Oh dear," said Debbie, as the two began to brawl.
     Sabre put his head in his hands.  "How did I get into this?"
     Dr. Young tapped him on the shoulder.  "Sabre, you had better set
the story transcriber back onto the plotline.  I doubt anyone wants
to watch our petty squabbling."
     "Who's petty?" asked Debbie.
     "Squabbling?" asked Sabre, resetting the transcriber.  "Who ever sai--"
     Muck-Luck strode to the contol-room.  He punched a few controls
and set course for the Destructionvax5 sattilite.  With a purr and a flash,
the WarpShip Elsewhere was on its way.  His mission, to warn the Omnivax Core
and track deForrest end his miserable life once and for all.


Ow ow oww!!!  Hey, stop that!  Don't make me draw sword!  Hey,
Cowboy, put down the gun!!!!  I mean it!  Or--

***** Entry appended 22:51 on Thu, 05/26/88 by BURNS at MAINE       # 251 *****
Subject:     Sniffing for big game
From:        Tennessee H. Cowboy (THC8650 at TNTECH)

The HMS Golden Lance, recently equipped with the ACME SNIFFER, shoved her
way through Space with her highly powerful ion engines.  Space occasionally
got angry and shoved back, but otherwise it was a peaceful voyage.  In the
control room, Time Agent 357 was discussing the SNIFFER with tits co-inventor,
Wile, an erect-walking canoid with opposable thumbs.  The other co-inventor
was currently in the galley mixing leftover Algerian lizard fungus with
various flavors of coolers in the attempt to create intelligent life.

"'re saying then," continued 357, as we missed the earlier portion of
this conversation while we were checking on Doctor Von Spleen, "is that the
SNIFFER homes in on omnipotent computer radiation.  Systems like Oracle2,
Destructionvax5, and the like all put out radiation that can be tracked by
this Spam-powered device."

"That's what I just said," answered Wile.  "Why did you repeat it?"

"Because the reading audience missed it," he answered, relaying the information
presented in the first paragraph.

"Yeah.  Wile out."  And the screen went dark.

=Why does Wile make you so nervous?= asked the ship's computer, VAL 9000.

"He doesn't make me nervous," 357 lied unsuccessfully.

Val consulted her internal scanners.  =Blood pressure up.  Heartbeat up.
Adrenaline levels up.  Is there any part of you that isn't elevated?=

"Just one.  But I don't think this is the time for that."

=So why does he make you nervous?=

"Every time I see him I'm reminded of that afternoon on Beta Microba IV.
Remember that bird-like bipedial creature that zipped around at high speeds
and came up behind people and said 'Meep!  Meep!'?"

=Yes, do go on,= said Val, folding out a couch for 357 to lie in.

"Well, I couldn't stop it.  I failed utterly.  If it wasn't for the Golden
Lance energy shield, which I barely remembered in time, we might not have
gotten out of there alive."

=So what you're saying, then,= Val said, consulting an electronic note pad,
=is that you feel insecure that you were unable to save the day by yourself.=


=This insecurity is further magnified by the fact that it was I, rather than
yourself, who actually stopped the creature and saved the day.=


=And Dr. Young's constant bickering about sexism doesn't make things any
easier, does it?=


Val consulted her internal stores, and selected a class V non-addictive
narcotic gas, which she circulated through the control room.  357 was asleep
in seconds.

=Sleep well, old friend.  You won't remember any of this in the morning.=

Will he remember any of this in the morning?
Is my writing really sexist?
If people don't like the way I write, then why do they keep reading it?

It's when they STOP complaining that I'll get worried.

***** Entry appended 09:19 on Fri, 05/27/88 by THC8650 at TNTECH    # 252 *****
Subject:     Emergance into realspace
From:        Tennessee H. Cowboy (THC8650 at TNTECH)

=Ten minutes to realspace,= reported Val.

"Good," responded Time Agent 357.

"I want my mother," whined Doctor Bing Von Spleen.

Doctor Spleen was understandably distraught, as he was sure he was about to
die.  The prospect of taking on the satellite containing Destructionvax5 and
who knows how many other omnidangerous computers was almost more than he could
take.  To tell the truth, 357 wasn't too happy and Val was considering faking
a systems failure.  To tell the absolute truth, I'm not all that sure I even
want to be writing it, but the battle for Truth, Justice, and the ability to
consume large amounts of alcohol must continue.

=357,= said the VAL 9000 computer.

"Yes, Val," he answered.

=I'm picking up hints of instability in the ABPSAR systems.=

"Impossible!" snorted Doctor Spleen, the inventor of the Automatic Beet
Peeler and SubAtomic Re-integrator.  "My invention is foolproof, and even
you two aren't fool enough to mess it up."


"Down Val!" commanded 357.  "Doctor, why don't you go back and check it out.
if anyone can determine the trouble, you can."

Mollified, Doctor Spleen ambled back towards the engine room.  357 asked Val
for more specifics about the problem.

=I don't have any, just hints of instability in the ABPSAR.  It's possible
that the new systems the Doctor worked on in the last entry weren't
integrated properly.=

"How long until we emerge in realspace?"

=One minute.=

"Then we'd better get ready.  Engage Golden Lance Shield."

=Shield engaged.=

"Ready Energy Beam."

=Beam readied."

"Charge DIESCUM canon."

=Scumsuckers charged.=

"Pray to God."


"Let's go through the pre-battle checklist.  Engines..."


"Weapons systems..."


"Life support..."



=Cash. (snicker)=

"Artificial gravity..."

=Charge. (giggle, snicker)=

"Emergency computer cut-off..."

=C.O.D.  (giggle, snicker, giggle) Hey! Wait a minute.  I was just kidding.=

"Give me a countdown."

=Realspace in 15 seconds.=

357 activated the ship's intracom.  "Doctor, hang on back there."

=10 seconds.=

"357, wait!  Don't go back to realspace!"

=5 seconds.=

"Why not, Doctor?"

"Somebody has (=3=) fiddled with the ABPSAR (=2=) and anything can happen
when we hit (=1=) realspace."

"Val!" shouted 357. "Stop the (=0=) countdown."

But it was... TOO LATE!!!!

=We've hit realspace,= said Val.  =What's the problem?= she asked.

"KABLOOEY!!!!!!" answered Space outside.

***** Entry appended 21:21 on Sat, 05/28/88 by THC8650 at TNTECH    # 254 *****
Subject:     When Space says Kabloooey, people listen...
From:        Tennessee H. Cowboy (THC8650 at TNTECH)

The HMS Golden Lance rocked under the bombardment it was receiving.  Even
with full power to the GLS, the destructive beams were reaching the ship and
inflicting tremendous damage.  Let's check inside....

"I'm telling you this isn't the Destructionvax5 satellite!" shouted Doctor
Spleen over the noise of the ship being blown up around him.  "Only Spam
powered weapons can penetrate the Golden Lance Shield, and the satellite
doesn't have any."

"Val," ordered 357.  "Switch all power to our regular shields.  They should
stop the beams.  Our GLS just let's it through."

=Power switched,= reported Val.  The barrage, though still as intense,
barely rocked the ship now.  =At present power, we can resist the assault
for several minutes.=

"Good," mumbled 357.  "Doctor, you were saying?"

Spleen looked up from the science console.  Wiping the sweat from his brow,
he reported "Whoever fiddled with our ABPSAR knew exactly what they were
doing.  Instead of emerging in realspace, we ended up in some weird
alterverse.  And instead of attacking Dvax5, we were attacked by Spam
weapons which out regular shields can handle, but our supershield cannot."

"Somebody set us up," growled 357.

=Probably the Omnivax core of the satellite,= said the highly effeminite
voice of the VAL 9000 computer.  =If we hadn't switched power to our less
effective shields, we'd be debris by now.=

"Less effective against normal weapons," corrected Doctor Spleen.

"How long before our shields fail, Val?  And where and when are we?" asked
357 as he began to target the ship's weapons on the outpost that was still
pommeling them.  "While we're here, we might as well take out one more
threat to the universe..." he said to himself.

=357!  Don't fire!= came Val's voice, close to panic.  The communications
console, currently unmanned, lit up and a short signal was sent.  The
outpost suddenly stopped firing and openned its docking bay.

"Huh?" said both 357 and Doctor Spleen.

=The Omnivax core has a warped sense of humor.  We were attacked by and were
about to attack our own base.=

"Bedlam Central!" shouted 357.  "I thought it looked familiar.  That
explains the Spam weapons and the sudden attack.  The auto-defense systems
blast anything that moves."

The HMS Golden Lance slid gracefully into the dock.  It not-so-gracefully
crashed into the back wall, but it did little damage to the wall and the
nose of the ship couldn't get much more damaged than it already was.

=Sorry guys,= mumbled Val to the two humanoids sprawled in the floor of the
command room.  =I guess the ship is damaged more than I thought.=

"No problem," 357 replied.  "I had a soft landing."

"Yeah," huffed Doctor Spleen.  "A soft landing on ME."


Far away, Itself watched these events unflold.  Itself was pleased.  The
ABPSAR was beyond its comprehension, but it was easy enough to rig parlor
tricks.  Omnipotent, but not omniscient, Itself could only guess at 357's
next move.  Itself computed a 98% probability that 357 would leave the HMS
Golden Lance behind for repairs, while he used the Temporal Teleporter
Terminal to invesigate the source of the omnipotent computer radiation.

After a microsecond's worth of consideration, Itself decided that letting
357 see the OCR beacon would not cause any harm.  After ordering the OCR
beacon's automatic defenses deactivated, it awaited its next amusement.
Itself was confident that 357 couldn't unravel the mysteries of the OCR

Itself did not consider the possibility that 357 wouldn't go himself.


"ME?!?" shouted Doctor Spleen.  "I hate spacesuits.  And I get spacesick.
And I don't know how to operate the TTT.  And-"

"Stop shouting!" ordered 357.  "Even with our anti-snoop shields up we can't
be sure that the Omnivax core can't hear us."

"Why don't you go check out the source of the OCR.  You're the liscenced
space hero!"

357 stared Doctor Spleen directly in the eyes.  "One, I don't have the
scientific knowledge to recognize any fakery Omnivax may pull."

"Yeah, well, maybe..." admitted the Doctor.

"Two, if it is the Dvax5 satellite, we'll need to pull back whoever we send
very quickly.  You weigh considerably less than I do, so the TTT will be
able to get you back quicker."

"I see."

"Three, if it is not the Dvax5 satellite we're picking up, you'll have a
better chance of figuring out where the OCR is *really* coming from."


"Four, the Sensory Space Suit isn't big enough for me, and you're the only
person I know that it fits."  357 was rather disappointed that this final
point was the least impressive of the list, but it was enough to convince
the Doctor.

"Now don't mistake this for bravery, 357," griped Spleen as he pulled on his
boots.  "I'm doing this purely for selfish reasons."

"You can TTTing yourself off to face possible death at the assumed site of
the Dvax5 satellite be considered selfish?" asked 357.

"Well, if we pull this off, I'll be a hero and I'll be able to write my own
ticket at any university I please.  I'll be able to go back to studying Spam
and this time no one will try to stop me."  Doctor Spleen's previous
experiments were interupted by colleagues who considered his research
unsafe, immoral, unjustified, and very likely to make him a great deal more
money than it would them.  They used his own invention, the Automatic Beet
Peeler and SubAtomic Re-integrator, to send him off into the Cosmos, which
started a huge string of events of which this entry is only the latest.

"Besides," added the Doctor, slightly annoyed at having his life history
openly displayed for the entire world to see, "now that the Omnivax core
knows I'm one of the ones planning to destroy it, my life will never be
safe until we succeed."

"Good luck," said 357 as he set the TTT co-ordinates.  "I'm going to put you
about a hundred kilometers away from the OCR source."

"How far away?" quizzed the Doctor.

"62 miles," said 357, not breaking stride.  "If it is the Dvax satellite,
signal for recall immediately.  We'll broadcast the co-ordinates to the
universe at large and let the other characters take care of it.  If it isn't
the Dvax satellite, move in as close as you safely can and take as many
sensor readings as possible."

"What is this thing?" Spleen asked, holding up what appeared to be a runner
sled with several tanks of liquid nitrogen welded to it.

"That's a space-sled.  When you hit that valve on the end nitrogen gas will
escape and accelerate you in whatever direction you happen to be facing.
Smaller valves on the sides help you control your heading.  Use it
sparingly, because if you run out of nitrogen you won't be able to get back."

"What do you mean 'won't be able to get back'?" sputtered the Doctor.
"Won't you be able to TTT me back?"

"Not if you're within 20 miles of the OCR source," answered 357.  "It blocks
our TTT locator frequencies.  If I can't locate you, I can't teleport you."

"Why didn't you say that before?"

"The author just thought it up," answered 357, as if that solved everything.

"Well why can't he just think up an easy way to knock out the Dvax5
satellite?" whined Spleen.

*Because that wouldn't be any fun for Sabre.*

***** Entry appended 18:57 on Sun, 05/29/88 by THC8650 at TNTECH    # 255 *****
Subject:     Wherin the gang is reunited
From:        Eric, Lord Sabre (BURNS at MAINE)

     Matt, Linda, and Trudy were coasting along in space.  "Well,
guys," said Trudy, "where were you headed before?"
     "Heaven," said Matt, "To find out the location of the
Destructionvax5 sattilite."
     Trudy shook her head.  "No go, guys.  The Dvax5's location was
historiclly figured out, not told.  Sorry."
     Matt shrugged.
     *****Querylist 1144532.55543233433 complete.  Subject:Telechronal
locations of subatomic particles of Radar Vogal and Intern.*****
     "Hey guys, Superbrain's found Radar and Intern's particles!"
     "Well then," said Linda, "We'd better track down Steve and Muck-Luck,
to have them use the TIMEKILLER to reintregate them."
     "Good idea," said Matt, "they'll be a good help!"
     Trudy felt her heart stop.  She'd never gotten over the Intern--now
she'd be able to try and attract him with her adult body, and give
Radar some serious compitition.
     In the Author's Altiverse, Dr. Young began to beat Sabre over the
head for that little bit of sexism.
     "All right then, Question:what coordinates will bring the HMS
Intern into contact with the T.S. Challenger II the most quickly."
     *****I'll load 'em into the navicomps directly!*****
     }}}}}Got 'em!{{{{{ said the Navicomp--a very perky sounding
female computer system.
     *****Wait a second!  That shipboard computer's a Superaccount!*****
     "Oh my god!  Guys, Superbrain says the Ship's computer is a super
     "You are?" asked Trudy.  "What account?"
     }}}}}Massage at eroticavm3{{{{{
     "Huh!  I thought Superaccounts were directly encoded into people's
     }}}}}We are, I was Meeedlebaum Quartizonik's, but I got dragged
along when we left Necomprendpas.  If you like, I can be loaded into
your brainwaves, Major Tetwaters.{{{{{
     *****No way, man, get her into yours!  All right!*****
     "Shush, Superbrain.  She isn't our account!"
     "All right, Massage, transfer."
     A spark of electricity that smelled like Ozone mixed with Calvin
Klein Obsession struck Trudy on the forehead.  }}}}}There,{{{{{ said
Massage, though only Trudy could hear.  }}}}You are now Omnidesireable,
     "What good is Omnidesirability to a licensed Space Heroine?  This
smacks of sexism again, Sabre!"
     |-}----------So sue me.  If you don't WANT a device to help you
get the Intern...------------{-|
     "Never mind!  I'll deal with it!"
     Meanwhile, in the T.S. Challenger II, out two intrepid explorers
and their faithful giant mutant cat were being chased by Hyperfighters
from Heavan, collection agents for God's Place, a particularly Swank
     "Activate the defensive shields, sonny!  Or we're dead meat!  Then
we'll show up in heavan and HAVE to pay our tab!"
     "What defense shields!"  Steve banked sharply, trying to avoid
the SENDEMTOTHEIRJUSTREWARD beams being fired at them.
     "Oh yeah, forgot how damn primitive yer stupid culture really was."
     "Lameduck, I'm gonna try and get a clear area to make the jump
to Timespeed.  You get to engineering, try and boost the manuvering
power, and get Lucky some freeze dried Tender Vittles!"
     "Jeez!  You whippersnappers are really weird, y'know!"
     "Hurry, he's getting hungrey!!!!"
     Lameduck hurried to the back section of the TimeShuttle, followed
hungrily by Lucky.  Steve wished that the TIMEKILLER wasn't only
forward mount.
     Suddenly, the bright red bolts and balls of light that were
Phasers and Photon Torpedos shot past the Challenger II and blew away
the hapless angel-piloted crafts persuing them.  A WarpShip crusied
by, and Linda's voice rang over the communiators,
I don't actually have an adjective toput here....
     "Challenger II, this is the HMS Vogel, prepare for a boarding
party to transport over!"
     Powering down, Steve punched the appropriate button, blackened its
and said "Linda, if there weren't two bulkheads and a few thousand
cubic meters of Vacumn between us, I'd kiss you!"


For the answers, and the possible chance to get in this story, tune
in nexttime for the Omniexiting superdiscussion SFSTORY at CSNOTICE!!!!

***** Entry appended 15:27 on Mon, 05/30/88 by BURNS at MAINE       # 256 *****
Subject:     the Cowboy's last entry {sniff}
From:        Tennessee H. Cowboy (THC8650 at TNTECH)

Time Agent 357 set the co-ordinates on the TTT and once again wished Doctor
Spleen luck.  Doctor Spleen was too busy retching to notice.  With a blast of
power and a tinge of ozone, Doctor Spleen disappeared.  357 stood at the
controls attentively, on the odd chance that Spleen would signal for an
immediate recall.

Doctor Bing Von Spleen, founding father of Spamology and patron saint of drug
abuse arrived at the designated point in the designated alterverse.  Namely,
62 miles away from an OCR source in realspace.  After attempting to scratch
his chin, and finding it very difficult to do in a spacesuit, he scanned for
omnipotent computer radiation.  The pocket ACME SNIFFER he carried concluded
that he was where I said he was at the beginning of the paragraph.

Seeing that the OCR source was not the Destructionvax5 satellite, he decided
to move in closer.  Opening a small valve on the space sled he carried, he
released a small amount of nitrogen gas, which propelled him towards the OCR
source.  It also created a small blueish plume behind him, which solidified in
the cold of space and attached itself to his posterior.  His resulting
appearance was that of a frostbitten flamingo riding a runner sled, but only
Space itself was watching.  Space was laughing violently.

Approaching closer, Spleen activated the SSS, his Sensory SpaceSuit.  He
began studying the readouts and attempting to determine what the OCR source
was.  So engaged in his studies did he become that he did not realize just
how close he was to the OCR source.

"Needlewarp!" he exclaimed as he bounced of a solar panel.  Using most of his
remaining nitrogen, he managed to bring himself to a halt near an access panel.
Using a highly sophisticated sonic device that looked nothing at all like a
screwdriver, he removed the four screws holding the panel in place and looked
inside.  He casually activated his transcriber to record his observations, as
well as allow the author more practice in writing monologues.

"Highly sophisticated circuitry is evident, but not omnipotent.  I'd place it
somewhere between an Agima 4000 and a Arati 2080.  This is obviously just a
beacon of some sorts.  It must channel OCR from some other place.  Wonder how
it works...."

Needless to say, with mechanical precision and blind luck seldom seen outside
of Wally's Garage on the old Andy Griffith show, he quickly began to
disassemble the OCR beacon.


Itself awakened from its slumber.  Lazily it checked on the position of 357,
womdering if he had teleported himself to the OCR beacon yet.  He was surprised
to see him watching a Radar Vogel workout on ESPN (Extra Sensory Perception
Network), apparently unconcerned with the goings-on of the universe.

Itself then checked the OCR beacon.  WHAT!  A human was disassembling the
beacon.  It was only seconds away from discovering the true source of the OCR.
Namely, Itself itself, known to the rest of the universe as the Omnivax core.

In a blast of blind rage, Itself ordered the beacon to destroy the intruder.

The beacon relayed a lazy "Have a Nice Day!" message back, just before
shutting itself down.

But Itself was not without other powers.  Drawing on the forces controlled
by the mainframes around it, it prepared to launch an overwhelming assault.

How overwhelming?  Imagine twenty-seven state-of-the-art 23rd Century tanks
going after a single Cro-magnon man armed with a bow and arrow.  And that's
an understatement.


Unaware of how close he was to death, Doctor Spleen casually piloted himself
out to the 10 mile distance away from the OCR beacon that would be required
to let 357 TTT him back to Bedlam Central.  Arriving at the 10 mile mark, he
suddenly realized that he had shut down the OCR source an could have called
for transport anytime without problem.  Chiding himself, he activated the TTT
recall unit, to which 357 had recently added an audio tranceiver.

"357, I'm ready to return," he said into the mike.

"                    ," came the answer.

"Uh, 357, get me out of here."

There was still no answer.  Doctor Spleen then noticed that the area of space
around him began to look strange.  Distorted.  Perverted.  Weird. Space began
to twist and warp in exactly the way one would expect it to in prelude to the
arrival of twenty-seven highly dangerous, omnipotent, all-powerful, supra-
destructive, computer accounts.

"Gulp," said Doctor Spleen, reactivating the TTT recall unit.  "357!  I'm in
trouble here.  Get me the hell out of here!"

"Screech- trying, Doctor," came a static-filled reply.  "But something shhh
blocking buzz zap signal.  Keep calm."

"Easy for you to say!"  Spleen watched with dread as the strange Space around
him began to close in, almost as if it were a snarling creature closing for
the kill.

"Snarl," said Space, closing for the kill.

Just before the last millimicronanometer of distance between the Doctor and
the strange Space's talons was crossed, the TTT finally caught hold and whisked
Spleen to the relative safety of Bedlam Central.

The strange Space relaxed, returning to normalcy.   After receiving new
instructions from the Omnivax core, the mega-destructive computer accounts
began traveling towards Bedlam Central, using the most direct bitpath
available.  This caused much distress among the computers along the bitpath,
and many were knocked out of commision because of it.  One was, incidentally,
YALEVM, which made it impossible for Cowboy to get this entry in any sooner.

At Bedlam Central, VAL 9000 was just finishing repairs when Doctor Spleen
arrived.  357 helped him out of the SSS and asked him if he was successful.

"You bet!" exclaimed Spleen.  "I took that beacon apart until I found this:
a primitive WORM disk.  It contains the complete operating instructions of
the beacon."

357 took the disk from the Doctor.  "Good job!" he said excitedly.  "The true
location of the Destructionvax5 satellite must be somewhere on this disk.
Luckily, it only has a few megabites worth of information on it.  We'll have
it figured out in no time."

=I'm afraid that's exactly how much time we have left,= said Val, sounding for
all the world as if twenty-seven mega-destructive computer accounts had the
electronic version of a switchblade to her throat.

"Why Val," said 357.  "You sound exactly as if twenty-seven mega-destructive
computer accounts have the electronic version of a switchblade to your throat."

=Very funny,= commented Val.  Suspecting trouble, 357 backed towards the
Hellacious Emergency Life Pod, and placed the WORM disk in it.

@@@ALL RIGHT YOU WIMPS!!!!!@@@ said all of the twenty-seven, their voices
issuing from the walls of Bedlam Central and even the air around them.
@@@WHERE'S THAT DISK?!?!?!!@@@

"What disk?" asked 357, stalling for time as Spleen programmed the HELP pod.


=WHO ARE YOU CALLING A BITCH!!!= shouted Val, outrage giving her the strength
to momentarily throw off her attackers.

"JUST WHO DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DEALING WITH?!?!?!?" shouted 357, with all the
force that three A's in the SHOUT 100 series at Interstellar U can give you.

In the split second that 357 and Val kept the omni-dangerous accounts occupied,
Doctor Bing Von Spleen, in a rare show of unadulterated courage, launched the
HELP and threw himself towards the SDNBTODCAAAE.  The accounts, sensing his
leap towards the Super Dangerous Never Before Tried OmniDangerous Computer
Account Avoider And Escaper, zapped him with a beam of pure destructive energy.

The Doctor caught the full force of the beam, which ripped him molecule from
molecule almost immediately and flung the molecules off through space and time.
Hardly anything was left to hit the SDNBTODCAAAE activation lever, but Spleen's
spleen survived just long enough to do so, and hit with barely sufficient force
to activate it.

And what a wonderful activation it was....Believe you me folks.

Deep within the heart of Bedlam Central, a giant ABPSAR came online.  Drawing
upon the 3.98 tons of Spam aboard the HMS Golden Lance, it told Space and Time
to take a hike, and instilled it's own twisted form of reality.  Bedlam Central
twisted under the strain, and then it and the entire alterverse exploded with a
fury never before witnessed.  The alterverse known as number 721 simply winked
out of existance, taking twenty-six of the omni-dangerous computer accounts
with it.


In the center of the Destructionvax5 satellite, Itself raged.  Twenty-six of
its most powerful operatives had been destroyed.  He listened once again to
Annihilator's report, and made plans to not be caught off guard the next time.

In netherspace, the molecules that once belonged to Doctor Bing Von Spleen
gathered.  Noticing them, St. Peter used his not insignificant powers to
reunite them, and asked the Doctor if he'd like a job as bartender at the
Club Nympho.

In alterverse 722, the HMS Golden Lance appeared, badly shaken by it's
transistion between two alterverses without the direct use of Spam.  357
stirred groggily and began attempting repairs on the VAL 9000 computer.

In alterverse 1, otherwise known as realspace, and occasionally referred to
as the universe to those who inhabited it, a HELP capsule appeared.  In
place of a distress beacon, it transmitted Weird Al Yankovic's hit parody
"Help me, Radar" over and over on all frequencies.

*I'm heading home for the summer, guys.  Take care of SFSTORY while I'm gone.
See you in September.*

***** Entry appended 12:49 on Tue, 05/31/88 by THC8650 at TNTECH    # 257 *****
From:        Patrick McCoy (enldc8c at bostonu)

     Buzz paced in front of the computer system as it processed the
time required to make a hyperspace jump from Earth to Hell. He was
a bit upset that they had not arrived. The clicking sound of the printer
brought him out of his rut and he looked at the paper before him.
     "This isn't good," he mumbled to himself.
     "What's wrong?" asked Bert with a look on his face that conveyed
more understanding than usual.
     "We'll come out of hyperspace soon, but the coordinates were off
a hair."
     "What do you mean by 'a hair?'"
     "We're showing up a week from when we left."

     Meanwhile, in Hell, Toni had completed her training after more
abuse and such than can be comfortably told in sfstory. She was now
dressed in black lengeree (?). In between her shoulder blades was a dagger
tucked beneath one of her wings. She sat outside Beelzebub's bedroom
with no feeling showing on her face. As Beelzebub approached her, he knew
he won. He had broken the succubus' spirit and she would make him ruler
of Hell until Satan returned.
     "Come this way, bitch," he said, opening the door. He smiled as
she winced, "The test begins."
     He grabbed her roughly by the arm and threw her on his bed. He
tore at her tette and, as he held her neck with one hand, he reached
behind her and withdrew the dagger.
     "Not good enough, bitch," he said as he threw it across the room.
"Looks like you need more lessons!"
     He readied to attack her again. Toni scratched at his chest with
her left hand. Beelzebub didn't worry. Her nails were sharp but no
match for his hide. He felt a burning pain in his chest as he began to
feel groggy. He stood up and staggered back from the bed. He looked
down amd saw the four scars running across his chest. Only then did
he notice the razors beneath Toni's fingernails.
     "They're coated with a paralasant," Toni said as she slowly
retreived her dagger. Beelzebub slumped to the floor. She walked
to his side and looked down at him. "I'm going to make sure you
never do what you did to me ever again."
     "Please..." he muttered as she put the dagger to his groin.
     "It's Hell, Beelzebub. You don't get any mercy here."

     Above Beelzebub's fortress, the Rocket Racer V punched through
dimentions and arrived in Hell. Buzz, in his anger, began blasting
away with his Turbo-lasers at the fortress guards.
     "Will we be able to find her?" asked Bert in a tone that wasn't
quite his.
     "I'm running a local psi-scan for her brainwave pattern," said
Buzz eyeing his companion with some degree of confussion, "The exact
coordinates should be up in a moment."
     When the location appeared on the screen, Buzz veered towards
the location after firing an Atomic Torpedo at a detachment of the castle
guards shatteribg several bones in the process. Buzz then blew a hole in
the wall of Beelzebub's room.
     Inside, Buzz saw Toni standing above the prone figure of the demon
with a knife poised to strike.
     "We can't let her do it," said Bert in a deep voice distinctly not his.
     "Don't do it, Toni," Buzz said over the speaker system rigged to
the outside of his ship as he scanned the fungoid tetrapod's brainwave
     "Why not? After what he did to me?"
     "Because," said Buzz with his eyes wide at the brain scan before
him, "if you do, there's no turning back for you and you'll be a succubus
for all of eternety. Beelzebub will have won the really important battle
if you do it."
     In Heaven, God smiled at this blatant use of religious overtone
in a science fiction story and, to join in the fun, changed form to that
of Issac Assimov.
     Toni heasitated (said the author as he returned to the melodrama).
Slowly, she replaced the knife into its sheath. "He's right, Beelzebub.
You may be in one piece, but I won here. You, the great demon duke lost."
     "Come on, Toni," said Buzz as he fired his turbo-lasers at a demon
stupid enough to fly in front of the ship, "Let's get out of here!"
     Toni swooped across the room and into the Rocket Racer V. Buzz began
to shoot away from the keep when a particularly large and strong demon
grabbed the long, pointed thing on the front of the rocket that, to all
outside appearances served no practical purpose except for a place for a
demon to get a hold of the ship. Buzz gunned the engines to full thrust
(enough to propell the ship at .6666 repeating light speed) as he punched
in the coordinates for the hyperspace jump to Earth, but the ship didn't move.
     Meanwhile, in Sarasota, that History major began to chant the final
phrase to summon a powerful demon to stomp on the local airport for
reasons best not gotten into here as local politics can be rather tedious.
     As Buzz blasted at the demon with no effect, he suddenly
dematerialized, shooting the Rocket Racer V away from the keep. Buzz
"punched it" and ripped off into hyperspace.
     When they shot back into the Sol I system, followed by several
demons. At this point, the hyperpowerful being inhabiting Bert, commonly
known as St. Michael the Arcangel, left Bert and took up a defensive
possition behind the Rocket Racer V. This, of course, scared the living
shit out of many of the demons who had had their asses kicked from heaven
to hell by Michael at the time of THE first big battle. They quickly
had a sense of deja vu as it happened all over again.

     Toni lay weeping quietly in Buzz's arms much in the way
a grandaughter cries in her gandfather's arms after a bad dream.
     Michael returned.
     "You have suffered enough, young one. You are to be granted
another chance." He touched her with his sword and was surrounded by
a soft white glow. When the glow left, she was without wings or horns.
     "Take care of her, Buzz," Michael said as he faded from view.

     Meanwhile, in Heaven, God sat talking with an author.
     "You have been spending a lot of time here, Pat."
     ++I know. I'm hiding out from Sabre who is really pissed about the
serious nature of the story.++
     "And you have to mow my lawn a lot for giving Toni a second chance."
     ++That, too.++

     "So where to next, Buzz?" asked Tachi as they quetly left their
two companions asleep.
     "Well, we have to catch up with the other plotlines and get back to
some serious sillyness."


***** Entry appended 19:16 on Thu, 06/02/88 by enldc8c at bostonu   # 258 *****
Subject:     Wherein things get back to normal
From:        Patrick McCoy (enldc8c at bostonu)

     Buzz was downloading the last of the Buck Rodgers reruns into
his central video library when Tachi returned to the cockpit after
grabbing a couple of Ho-ho's from the ship's galley (which was right
behind the cockpit as the Rocket Racer V is a rather small ship). He
had a puzzled look on his face that seemed out of place on a being so
enlightened as he. He sat in his usual seat and turned to Buzz.
     "Why was the last adventure so serious?" he asked inquizitively,
as many of the readers of this piece of literature would do if given
five minutes in the room with me.
     Buzz frowned and turned to face the cute 3' 2" Zen Master. "I
am not sure," he responded in a serious tone of voice, "But I do have a
theory. It's a bit wild, though. Granted, that's nothing new, but..."
     "Yes?" asked Tachi expectantly.
     "Well, this portion of sfstory is a pulp era story. The arrival of
a succubus in the story line upset the natural order of things to the
extent that the plot rebelled in the sternest vein possible."
     "Things got serious," Tachi said frowning.
     "Yes." Buzz responded as he began scanning the radio waves of earth
for reruns of old radio shows like War of the Worlds, The Green Hornet,
and The Shadow.

     Meanwhile, in a dimention right above Heaven, Sabre walked up to
a sweatty author wearing a Celtic Cross who smelled vaugely of freshly
cut grass.
     |-}-------- Hey, I thought it was because you had a bad day.
     ++Yea, but there has to be a "scientific" explaination that will
satisfy the readers.++
     |-}-------- If you say so, although there must have been an easier
way to return Toni to human than mowing God's back yard.
     ++ There probably was, but this way, I stay away from the Cowboy's
six shooters and the proofreader's dictionaries. Say, how is that bump
doing? Has the swelling gone down?++
     |-}-------- Not yet.
     ++Try keeping paperback dictionaries around in the future.++
     |-}-------- Good plan.

     Meanwhile, back in the Rocket Racer V, Tachi continued to try to
piece what he could of the past few enteries together.
     "OK, I understand just about everything that happened except for one
     "What's that?"
     "How did you know that the brainwave pattern of Bert was that of
an angel?"
     "An Arcangel to be percice. I, as you know, have a M.A. in Pulp
Science. I coupled that with my Doctorate in Divinity and..."
     "Doctorate in Divinity???" interupted Tachi.
     "Well, it's an Honorary degree."
     "Why would they give you an honorary degree in Divinity?"
     "Well, the honorary degree comittee was supposed to give me a degree
back in '55 because I had infiltrated the Hive of the Queen Wasp of
Bzzzssszzzip in the Yar 3 system and returned with the plans for Operation
Swarm. I was the last one on the list for choosing the degree and, as
the list of honorary degree recipients is compiled at the Red Spot Tavern
in orbit around Jupiter 3, the committee was drunk and thought it'd be
funny. As a result, I got free credit hours from the Divinity Dept. of
Interstellar University, so I studied a bit. Guess I got lucky."
     Actually, Toni had indicated a desire to become good again in the
presence of Linda Madison (see Sabre's postings) and her Deus Ex Machina
ability had reached back through time to influence the Committee so Buzz
would know how to react. But that's really not important right now...
     "It looks that way," responded Tachi as he turned the viewscreen
on in time to see Jerry Falwell requesting donations to launch a satelite
to spread the word of God.
     In Heaven, God got somewhat nauseaus (HELP!!! PROOFREADERS!!!) and
assumed the form of Marcus Welby, M.D. and felt somewhat better.
     "Thart reminds me," said Tachi, getting back to the main plotline,
"What are we going to do about the Destructionvax Satellite?"
     "Good question. We have to find out where it is so we can join in
the combined attack."
     "Where are we going to get that type of information?"
     "There is only one place that could have that type of information."
     "The Omniscience Sattelites?" Tachi asked.
     Buzz frowned. "OK, two places that could have that type of
information." He turned to Tachi. "Interstellar University."

IS *MY* WRITTING SEXIST??? (well, everyone elses seems to be...)

For all this and more, stay tuned to the CSNEWS Network.

***** Entry appended 21:46 on Thu, 06/02/88 by enldc8c at bostonu   # 259 *****
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