Sfstory Log 003

=========================================================================
Appended 11:24:18 on 05/27/87 by  :

Meanwhile....

    *thwip*  *thump*

    Natchwald popped out of the space-time rip and landed hard on his ass.
"OW!" he exclaimed. After a few mintues of trying (unsuccessfully) to relieve
the pain, he stood up and had a look at his surroundings. He was in a white
corridor which stretched apparently endlessly to either side of him. Rows of
fluorescent lights provided the illumination. Squinting down the passage to
his right, Natchwald perceived a doorway a few hundred meters distant. Having
nohwere else to go, he started toward it.
    The corridor was lined with a type of metal that he had never seen before.
The doorway, he saw when he came to it, was oddly shaped--rounded at the top,
wider at the bottom. He peered through the small window set at eye level, and
froze with terror. The entire room beyond the door was filled with hundreds
of strange metallic creatures!
    Natchwald carefully reached into the utility kit that hung from his belt
and took out the minaturized audio-amplifier. He placed the suction-mounted
sound cup against the door and slipped the listening disk into his ear.
    "--and once we have accomplished that objective, nothing will stand in our
way! The path to complete universal domination will be within our reach!" said
a deep resonant voice. Natchwald looked through the window and saw that one of
the metallic creatures, larger than the rest, was speaking from atop a raised
dais in the center of the room. The other creatures began to make a harsh
clicking noise which he took to be cheers of some sort. Then a low hum began
to emanate from somewhere, and slowly the door began to slide open!
    Natchwald looked frantically from side to side, seeking a hiding place, but
the corridor was seamless. There was no place to hide.
    "Great quarks, I'm dead meat now," he thought as the creatures began to
file out of the room. Stuffing the amplifier back into the utility kit, he
began to run down the corridor.
    The first creature to emerge from the room spotted him. "INTRUDER ALERT!
INTRUDER ALERT!" it screamed in an electronically systhesized voice.  "WE HAVE
BEEN INFILTRATED! ALL UNITS TO LEVEL FIVE! PURSUE AND EXTERMINATE! PURSUE AND
EXTERMINATE!!!"
    "Exterminate...exterminate...exterminate..." The words echoed after Natch-
wald as he fled down the endless corridor. Keep moving, he told himself. Don't
let those things catch you. But suddenly his flight was halted as he slammed
into a wall. Reeling back, he saw that there was nothing in his path. Cautious-
ly, he moved forward, and met resistance. "Damn! Force field," he muttered.
Looking back, he saw a wave of creatures sweeping down the corridor after
him. "End of the line," he gulped.


Oh no! Caught between a rock and a hard place! How will our hero get out of
this one? Or will he die a horrible death? Stayed tuned for the next amazing
episode of    ********SFSTORY CSNOTICE********    !!!!!!

***** Entry appended 11:24 on Wed, 05/27/87 by U42701   at UICVM    # 031 *****
=========================================================================
Appended 19:54:43 on 05/29/87 by  Jeff Smith:

    Doctor Von Spleen tore his way through the absolute void of
interstellar space at a speed which, had he been able to read the highly
complex and esoteric electronic equivalent of a speedometer possessed
by the ship, would have scared him silly.  As it was he was blissfully
unaware of his terrific speed.  Over the course of the past three days,
the Doctor had become familiarized with the contents of the ship and
it's controls, in as much as he knew what buttons not to push if he
wanted the ship to cease being a ship, and become a disorganized cloud
of energetic sub-atomic particles.
    He had mastered the technique of speeding up and it's very useful
converse, of slowing down. He was able to turn the ship left and right,
up and (most of the time) down.  He was satisfied. He had also been
able to figure out that the three-dimensional map of the surrounding
area of space showing him things that posed a potential danger to his
ship, and more importantly, his life. Things such as stars, planets,
oncoming ships, deep-space mines, etc.  All very useful.
    He also, luckily, had gained supremacy over the ship's automated
food dispenser.  He was able to make it spit out, on demand, things
that, most of the time, were palatable, or at least edible.  It seemed
that the previous (read "legal") owner of his new (read "stolen")
ship had a very different taste in consumeables.  He (or she) seemed
to favor hot foods, loaded with lots of bizarre alien herbs and spices,
some of which would probably get one a few years in jail back on Earth.
This provided not only nutrition, but something to do on the long
treks between stars:  the Doctor would trip out.
    However, not everything was a bed of roses.  The Doctor, between
bouts of drug-induced comas, noticed that the piece of over-aged
cheese-food was slowly eroding. This hitherto unknown effect caused
the good Doctor great consertation, alleviated periodically with
self-destructive bouts of chemical abuse. He finally decided that the
age-old cheese-item in question was being used for fuel in lieu of
more conventional substance of propulsion. Worried that his only
source of power would expire silently one day, leaving him stranded
in the vast interstellar gulfs, he set out to find another material
that would turn the trick, so to speak.
    Once he had summoned up a promising new edible from the bowels of
the food-dispenser, he would insert it into the ABPSAR, fiddle with the
dials, and wait.  If nothing happened, which usually happened, or
rather, in this case, didn't happen, he would toss the useless piece of
garbage out the airlock.  Finally, after entire hours of painstaking
work, Doctor Von Spleen did find a substitute food item that seemed
to possess the same energy-giving properties as the Velveeta-like
substance previously used.  After recovering from his chemical-aided
celebration party, the Doctor generated a few extra pounds of the new
fuel, to be on the safe side.  Having solved this new and annoying
problem, he returned to his normal hobby of exploring the ship's cargo
hold.
    In his explorations, the Doctor had previously found a variety of
odd and useful-looking pieces of electronic gadgetry. Among these was
a large oblong box, covered with buttons, which, if pushed, would
light up, and a sound like that of the flatuance of a mortally sick
person, would be emitted.  This provided hours of amusement for the
Doctor, and made the ship echo with the machines dull "Ppppppppat",
and the resulting peal of Doctor Von Spleen's laughter for weeks.
    One day, however, this blissful existance drew to an abrupt close.
When was having his daily fiddle with the ship's controls, a small
red dot lit up within the map of space, and a shrill beep sounded
throughout the cockpit.  With a yelp of surprise, the Doctor pressed
the button he knew was somehow connected with the ship's computer,
and, much to his surprise, text started to scroll out across the,
up to that moment, inert CRT to his left.  The message read:

      Warning.  Unidentified  ship approaching from ship-relative
      sector VH-8.  Sensor  probe  indicates  that ship  contains
      no readings of  organic life,  although  it also records an
      unusually high rate of electronic  functioning (13.2 on the
      Merck scale).  Immediate action required. Suggested actions
      include:

           1. Establish friendly radio contact with ship and
              surrender
           2. Establish hostile radio contact with ship and
              surrender.
           3. Eject all weaponry and surrender.
           4. Eject all weaponry and cargo and surrender.
           5. Surrender.
           6. Turn tail and run like a bat out of Hell.

    Obviously, I am dealing with one wimp of a computer here, thought
the Doctor.  He decided, against all advice proffered by his effeminate
computer, to put up a fight.  However, this idea was quickly abandoned
because he had no idea of where any controls even remotely related to
the weaponry were located.  He did know, however, where the visual
controls were placed, and he proceded to clumsily locate the ship and
magnify it so that he could see it.  After a mere hour of work, he
had done this, and the ship was a sight to behold.
    It was a sleek silver ship, shaped like a gigantic cockroach.
Painted on its side were the words:

                    Interstellar Vermin-eradicaters.
               We Exterminate! Exterminate! Exterminate!
                              EXTERMINATE!

Whoever had painted this sign, thought the Doctor, certainly had an
obsession.
    Doctor Von Spleen didn't know what to do.  He wanted desperatly to
blow the approaching ship into ions, partly from fear, but mainly from
blood-lust, but he lacked the nessecary know-how.  So, once again, for
what seemed the thousandth time since he boarded the ship, the Doctor
looked carefully over the array of buttons and keys spread out before
him, looking for the right one to press so that he could nuke the hell
out of that ship.
    With what seemed to be unholy speed, he arrived upon a cluster of
switches that he had not noticed before.  They were labeled "DANGER!
WEAPONRY CONTROLS. DO NOT TOUCH!"  Since mere words had never stopped
him before, he instantly began to flick them randomly.
    All at once, without a moment's warning, a increadable bolt of
bright blue energy shot out from the nose of the ship and streaked
toward the oncoming roach;  he had hit the jack-pot.
    Silently, the energy-bolt engulfed the roach-ship, whose defensive
shields had sprung up too late, and within moments, it had been
reduced to a glowing mist, barely visible even at highest magnification.
    "Hot shit!', said the Doctor
    ".", said Space, for Space is a creature of few words.

Who was within the mystery ship?
Does it matter, now that it is space-dust?
How was the Doctor able to find that weapon-control panel so quickly?
Was there some divine (on undivine, for that matter) force involved?
Who knows?
I do. (heh heh)

But you will all have to wait for the next thrilling edition of SFSTORY
CSNOTICE to find out.

***** Entry appended 19:54 on Fri, 05/29/87 by RPS385   at MAINE    # 032 *****
=========================================================================
Appended 13:18:50 on 05/30/87 by  Jeff Smith:

    "I'm bored.", said Ralph, "I think I'm going to leave."
    "Where to?", said Dan.
    "I don't know.", replied Ralph, "Somewhere with a beach, I think."
    "Can I come.", asked Dan pleadingly.
    "Sure. Come on. What about you, Bubba?", asked Ralph.
    "No thanks! I've had enough adventure for one day, thank you.", said
Bubba, "I'll just sit here and be bored."
    "Whatever toots your horn.", said Ralph as he opened the Green Door
and stepped through it.
    "Wait!", cried Dan, as Ralph disappeared out the portal.

    *Fwip*

    *Fwip*

    Dan and Ralph appeared out of thin air on a long beach with bright
green sand.  Eight huge suns hung in the sky above them, each shining
with a slightly different shade of the color yellow. Thousands of
sun-bathers stretched out to either side of them down the length of the
beach.  None of them seemed to notice anything unusual about the
sudden appearance of a gigantic Weaseloid and a Human.  Most of them
wrote it off to the well-known hallucinatory effect of staying out
under the intense light of this world's suns for too long.
    "Wow. You certainly know how to pick your destinations.", said Dan
as he eyed a large-breasted humanoid, who was nude tanning only inches
away from him.
    "My aim gets better every time", said Ralph as he, too, eyed a
female of his own species, swimming in the frothy pink ocean.
    "What say we split up, and meet back here in an hour.", suggested
Dan as the nude female looked at him coyly and licked her lips.
    "Make it two.", said Ralph as he set off toward the ocean.
    "Hi! I'm Dan. I'm from Earth.", said Dan to the nude woman.

Meanwhile, back on the planet Lascivious VI...

    Linda slowly walked toward the black doorway in front of her,
dreading what was to come next.  Slower and slower she walked, until,
when she was but inches from the door, she stopped.
    "What are you waiting for?", boomed the Voice, "Christmas?"
    "Ulp.. Sorry.", said Linda and advanced into the black rectangle.
    It was dark. Linda turned around, hoping to see the room she had
just left through the doorway, but it was gone.  She was trapped.
    "Could I please have some light/", asked Linda.
    "No.", replied the Voice.
    Linda waited.  Nothing happened.
    She waited some more.  Still nothing.
    Finally, she broke the pregnant silence and asked, "Well? Now what?"
    "Be quiet!", screamed the Voice.
    "Well, I don't have all day!", she yelled back.
    "No, you certainly don't.", replied the Voice. Evidently, whomever
possessed the voice that said this thought it hilariously funny and
instantly started to laugh.  After a few minutes of deep, vaguely
sinister, belly-laughs, the Voice calmed down and got to business.
    "How did you get on stage?", demanded the Voice.
    "I don't know.", said Linda, "the last thing I remember was being on
board my space-ship, the Challenger II."
    "And you just magically appeared on stage, displaying your revolting
body to a crowd of respectable gentlemen?", asked the Voice incredulously
    "Hey! My body isn't revolting.", cried Linda.
    "The point is moot, anyway.", said the Voice, "I'm afraid we will
have to execute you."
    "What?"
    "Are you deaf, or just stupid?", asked the Voice.
    "No! I mean.. Neither!", said Linda defensively.
    "I thought so.  You are a cretin.  I will be doing the universe a
favor by eliminating you."
    "Wait!", yelled Linda. But it was too late.  From somewhere in front
of her there came a high pitched whine which was instantly recognizable,
even by a mental midget like Linda, to be that of a large bank of
capacitors charging up.  Linda closed her eyes and waited for the
end to come.
    The seconds ticked slowly past.  Linda still waited, but nothing
happened. Finally, after a few minutes of mental agony, she summoned
up to courage to speak.
    "Not meaning to be impatient, but.. Are you going to kill me?", she
asked timidly.
    A great sigh echoed around her in the darkness, and then, the all
too familiar voice spoke again.
    "No, I decided not to.", it said dejectedly, "I figure, who am I to
decide who has the right to live and who doesn't? I didn't create you,
so in the same vein, I don't have the right to destroy you.  Although
you may be inferior, you still have the creation-given ability and
therefore the right, to live and pursue your own happiness, be it
whatever it may.  So, go in peace and friendship, my fellow being."
    Linda paused and thought for a moment.
    "So.. I can leave, right?", she asked.
    "Yes.", stated the Voice impatiently, "You may leave."
    "Could you open the door, please?", she asked.
    "Of course.", the now-benign Voice replied, "Farewell, fellow
inhabitant of the cosmos."
    "You, too.", said Linda, as she turned to where the door would soon
be.
    Suddenly,  with a roar and a flash of intensly bright light, a
thin beam of purple radiation struck out of the blackness surrounding
Linda, and engulfed her in it's glow.  Before Linda could realize what
had happened, which, under ordinary circumstances would have taken hours,
if not days for her to deduce, the electromagnetic bonds between the
atoms in her component molecules were stretched and broken.  With an
explosion of noise and a flash of blue light, she was reduced to a
cloud of energetic ions.
    "Damn!  Wrong button.", said the Voice from the darkness.

Was it the wrong button?
Was it the right button?
Who was that female on the beach?
Who was that weaseloid in the ocean?
Are they related?
It's doubtful.

To find out just how doubtful it is, stay tuned in for the next exciting
issue of SFSTORY CSNOTICE.  Same bat-time, same bat-station.

***** Entry appended 13:18 on Sat, 05/30/87 by RPS385   at MAINE    # 033 *****
=========================================================================
Appended 16:17:34 on 05/30/87 by  Jeff Smith:

    The sleek starship cut swiftly thorough the ultimate blackness of
space that surrounded it.  Within the ship's comfortable cockpit, sat
Doctor Von Spleen, occasionally fiddling with a knob or button on the
vast control panel in front of him, or glancing at a massive tome that
weighted down his lap.  Over the span of the past few weeks, the Doctor
had learned a great deal about the ship and it's workings, owing largely
to the fact that he had found the instruction manual in a garbage bin
in the cargo hold.  With the aid of this book, he had been able to
undo most of the damage his earlier experimenting had caused, and also
been able to command the food-processor to make newer and more exciting
drugs for his pleasure.
    He also had located himself in space. To his great amazement, he
discovered that he was not far from Earth, and, using the ship's
hyperspatial jump system, had crossed space to within a few measly
light-weeks of his home-planet. This blue-green orb was now approaching
the outer limits of his scanning equipment, and he was able to glimpse,
after all this time and isolation, the home of the only other creatures
in the universe that were of his race.  Soon after deciding that he
would land his ship and surprise the hell out of everyone on the planet,
he, using a space-suit and a can of Super-Grip Space-Paint, had
repainted the outside of his ship from it's former sickly green, to
a new, vibrant, metallic blue.  All external preparations completed, he
readied the inside of the ship.  He first ejected all of the chemicals
that he had been experimenting with out the airlock.  It would be a
sad day, he thought, when Earth's first extra-terrestrial visitor
was booked on narcotics charges.
    He then went about cleaning up the lounge, crew cabins, and lastly,
the cargo hold.  This last one was the hardest, for it involved the
disposal of several cubic meters of unworkable electronic junk.
Although he knew any one of the bits of equipment he was disposing of
could easily provide the material for several years of in-depth study
by an enterprising electrical engineer, he didn't need the clutter.
    In a few short days, the ship arrived in the vicinity of the Earth.
Doctor Von Spleen punched in the code that would put the ship into a
geo-stationary orbit over New York, and prepared his radio broadcast
that would announce his presence to the world.  After painstaking
seconds of thought, he turned on the Multi-frequency Radio Transceiver,
and spoke.

    "Ahem..", he said.
    "Attention, Earthlings!", he boomed. He had always wanted to say
that, and it gave him a little rush to do so.
    "You have five minutes until your puny world is destroyed!", he
yelled. That ought to set them on edge, he thought.
    "Ha ha. Just kidding", he said.
    "But seriously.. I am from Earth, too. Hoboken, to be exact, and
right now, I'm in a space-ship orbiting the Earth.  No, it's not a
U.S. space-ship, and it's not a Russian space-ship. It's a stolen
space-ship.  I stole from some alien on a planet orbiting the star
Ooopuncluilious.  Neat, huh?"
    "Now, I know what you're all thinking.  'This guys nuts!', but
no, I'm not.  I really did steal this ship. Really!  To prove that I
really do have a space-ship, I think I'll land it in central park.
How about it, eh?  Good.  See you in a few minutes."
    With that, the Doctor turned off his radio and had a good laugh
to himself.  After he had recovered, he set the computer on course to
land in central park.  However, the computer had an objection with this.
It said:

              Warning.  Obstructions in computed landing site.
              Instructions needed.
    After a few moments of thought, the Doctor typed in the computer
equivalent of "Nuke 'em."
    Slowly, the great blue ship dipped it's nose toward the Earth, and
it's huge engines silently activated.  Seconds later, the ship was
screaming through the upper layers of the atmosphere, leaving a great
glowing trail of dying molecules behind it.
    The Doctor saw through the viewer that he was quickly approaching
Central Park, and he started to worry how his all-too-literal
computer had interpreted his instructions.  Suddenly, he knew. With
a boom, and shock wave that shook the entire ship, a bright red streak
of light flew from the nose of this ship, and impacted the mugger-haven
that they call Central Park.  Within seconds, all that had once been
green and brown, was black.  A huge crater opened up in the burnt and
tortured ground, and the pulsing beam of energy slammed it's way into
the earth, burning and destroying everything in it's path.  With
explosions that echoed from the steel and glass walls of the surrounding
buildings, the beam wiped out a few minor hills, and evaporated a large
duck-pond and several startled ducks.
    As quickly as the beam had appeared, is sank back into nothingness,
and the loud hum that had accompanied its destruction disappeared as
well.
    "Wow!", exclaimed the Doctor, surveying the force that he had
unleashed.
    A moment later, his ship stopped its meteoric plunge to the Earth
and hovered, inches above the smoking crater its weaponry had gouged
seconds earlier.
    The Doctor stepped from his craft onto the gangplank and waved at
the gathered crowd of frightened citizens.
    "Hi!", he said, "How's it going?"

    Omegas stood in the midst of Central Park, his super-human brain
quickly calculated the most expedient way of finding all the criminals
that his Boss had requested.  Having found this course of action, he
started off to the street for the first phase, catching a cab.
    However, before he could step more than a pace from where he was
standing, the ground around him started to heat up with an unusual
rate.  As soon as this odd bit of data could be encompassed, a mind-
-crushingly loud boom surrounded him and drove his ears six feet into
his skull.  Dazed, he looked up, only to see a blue streak heading
toward the ground, spewing forth a red blaze of energy before it.
    "Shit.", said Omegas as the heat engulfed him.

    He appeared instantly in the presence of the Supreme Being, who
was looking mightily angry.
    "Hey, Supremeo, why'd you yank me?", he asked.
    "Because, idiot, you were about to be reduced to your component
elements by a beam of force.  Good enough for you?", boomed the Supreme
Being angrily.
    "Hey, sorry, dude!  Really!", said Omegas as he looked down at
himself.  His jacket was blackened around the edges, and his Ray-Bans had
been reduced to a lump of charred plastic.  His go-go boots were
covered with the remnants of melted sequins, and their once-white
naugahyde was yellowed and burnt in places.
    "Could I, like, get some new duds, man?", he asked.
    "Mind you,", bellowed the Supreme Being, ignoring Omegas inquiry,
"This is your *last* chance. One more screw-up, and your ass is mine!"
    "Hey, man! Don't sweat it! This is Omegas you're talking to!"
    "Watch your tongue, mortal!", screamed the Supreme Being.
    "I be to differ, your great worshipfulness. I'm not mortal.", said
Omeags.
    "You are now.  I have determined that the reason for your past two
unsuccessful attempts at restoring Universal Order were because you
felt yourself invulnerable. So, to remedy this unfortunate situation,
I have made you a mortal. So there.", explained the SB.
    "Hey, honkey. That's not cool!", protested Omegas.
    "Enough!", boomed the Supreme Being, "Be gone!"  With a great wave
of His hand, the Supreme Being caused Omegas to be transported instantly
back to Earth.
    "Stupid shit.", He muttered to Himself.

Is Omegas a stupid shit?
Is he a smart shit?
How will the people of Earth react to the Doctor?
How will the people of Earth react to a stupid shit?
Will he get elected to higher public office?
What did the monkey say when his tail was run over by the lawn-mower?

It won't be long now..

..until the next action-packed, thriller of an issue of SFSTORY
CSNOITCE.

***** Entry appended 16:17 on Sat, 05/30/87 by RPS385   at MAINE    # 034 *****
=========================================================================
Appended 11:33:03 on 05/31/87 by  Jeff Smith:

    Centuries ago, on the surface on a small, unregarded planet in a
small, insignificant start cluster orbiting a drab, dull little galaxy
in a dusty corner of the universe, there lived an old man.
    Not just any old man, but a wise old man, who had lived on the same
mountaintop for fifty years, contemplating the secrets and unknown
lore of the Universe.  One day, at the end of his fifty-year meditation,
he arrived at his answer.  For the first time in half a century, a
flicker of emotion crossed his wizened, weather-beaten face, a flicker
of contentedness.  For he had found the secret of life and the universe.
    "Yep,", he said, "That's it."
    He arose from his stone seat, and brushed the dirt from his worn
clothes, and started down the mountain to tell the people of his world.
However, before he could climb down the slope of the friendly mountain
that he had known for two-thirds of his life, he met a woman.  Since he
had not seen a woman in fifty years, he was obviously infatuated with
her, and instantly wanted to sleep with her.  Being the kind sort of
nympho, the woman obliged.
    After several minutes of frantic huffing and puffing, the old man
suffered a heart-attack, and died before he could tell anyone the
secret he had learned on the mountaintop.

    There is a lesson to be learned from this story, but it has slipped
the chroniclers mind.

***** Entry appended 11:32 on Sun, 05/31/87 by RPS385   at MAINE    # 035 *****
=========================================================================
Appended 12:23:52 on 05/31/87 by  Andy Robinson:

Meanwhile, back on Earth...

Ernst Fluent and St. Peter stepped through the loosely swinging door
of Dave's house.  The moment they were inside, Ernst was floored by
the horrendous stench of rotting flesh.

"Euuuagghhh" said Ernst in disgust.

"That would be the horrendous stench of rotting flesh," said St. Peter
nonchalantly, "the plumber evidently didn't clean the disposal very
well."

"You're pretty jaded for an angel" muttered Ernst.

"It's a hard job" retorted St. Peter.

Ernst looked at St. peter, and then he looked down at himself.
St. Peter was garbed in a ridiculous luminous white bathrobe and
he himself was quite naked.

"You look silly in that bathrobe, and I look even sillier with
nothing" observed Ernst, "if we intend to live here we really ought
to find suitable attire."

St. Peter sniffed at this, but then nodded.

"So, what *do* we wear, earthman.  Since you've got all  the
answers you might as well let me in on it.  You didn't worry
about what poor Dave was wearing when you crushed his skull
against the bath spout, did you?" sneered St. Peter.

"Now look, I told you that was an accident!" shouted Ernst
defensively, but added... "You know, it was the weirdest
thing... his skull was... empty...  I didn't think about it
much at the time, but he didn't have a brain..."

St. Peter was in no mood to meditate on the puzzle of our
dear departed Dave's missing gray matter.  He simply wanted
to find some clothes.  With a disgusted snort, he turned and
went shambling through the house until he came to the
bedroom.  Observing the clothes thrown all over the floor
from Ernst's prior rumagings, he proceded to pick out a
sweatshirt and pants that fit him, and a pair that looked
like they might fit Ernst's somewhat overweight frame.

"Here" he said as he threw the clothes in Ernst's face.

"Damn you're grumpy for an angel," said Ernst, "All you've done
is bitch and moan at me since we've met... It kind of makes
me wonder if that actually was heaven I went to!"

St. Peter spun around with an angry retort on his lips, but
he stopped short and a hint of sadness came into his old, wise
eyes.

"Like I said, it's a hard job." he muttered, almost to himself.

Ernst, feeling guilty, turned and started putting on the clothes
St. Peter had given him.  They were too small, like all of Dave's
things, but they covered most of the important regions of his
anatomy.

St. Peter was in the process of pulling on his sweatpants when
suddenly he stopped, his eyes staring blankly into the distance.
Suddenly he turned to Ernst:

"Did you say Dave had no brain when you killed him?" he said.

"Well, he didn't seem to" said Ernst.

"Then you didn't kill him.  I know enough about humans to know
that they don't work well without their brains." mused St. Peter

"I didn't?" asked Ernst.

St. Peter shook his head distractedly.  Ernst couldn't tell if he
meant "No" or if he was shaking his head at something he was thinking.
Presently, St. Peter stuck his hands out in front of him  and closed
his eyes.  Out of thin air *poof* came the book Ernst had seen at the
Pearly Gates.  St. Peter quickly flipped throuh the pages.  Coming to
what seemed to be the one he wanted, he ran his finger down the page,
muttering to himself.

"Someone's changed the book" said St. Peter.  He sounded quite upset.

"Huh?" said Ernst.

"The book you idiot!" yelled St. Peter, "Someone's changed the book...
the master plan, the chronicle of all that has been and all that will
be!  I'm glad I kept a backup copy... it's all here in chartreuse and
white."

"Euaggghhh" exclaimed Ernst at the color combination, "What's it say
now?"

"The same thing it's always said... You didn't kill Dave.  He was
dead in the shower long before you came along.  Someone must have
up and yanked his brain right out of his skull" said St. Peter.

"So what'd they do with it?" asked Ernst.

"I don't know" replied St. Peter.

"But you said the book..."

"I know what I said, but someone changed the book... Someone
changed what was and will be.   Someone is messing with the very
fabric of the universe as you know it.  The only thing the book
says is that Dave died before you fell on him... But the reason
it gives is not that his brain was missing."

"What did happen to him?" pried Ernst

"None of your business" said St. Peter, "The point is, there is
a big problem here.  Someone must have taken Dave's brain, and
in doing so changed the master plan... But noone could do that
except God himself... and..." (long pause) "Omegas." Finished
St. Peter.

"Is there any reason why someone would WANT Dave's brain?" Ernst
inquired.

"Not unless they wanted a dirty mind for something... At least,
there's no reason that *I* can see... but there must be..."

Who took Dave's brain?
Why did they take Dave's brain?
What are they DOING with Dave's brain?
Is St. Peter's supposition completely off-base and inaccurate?


Find out this and more in a possibly far in the future issue of
SFSTORY CSNOTICE!

***** Entry appended 12:23 on Sun, 05/31/87 by ANDY     at MAINE    # 036 *****
=========================================================================
Appended 16:38:17 on 06/04/87 by  Jeff Smith:

    Omegas stepped from the inter-dimensional door that the Supreme Being
had created for him onto the hot pavement of the "main" street of a
small, sleepy community.  Confused as to where he was, since he was
certainly not in New York City, he sniffed the air tentatively.  The
unattractive odor of Hydrogen sulfide greeted his waiting nostrils,
assuring him that he was near a paper-mill, which could only be in New
England, most likely Maine.
    Unexpectedly, he heard a voice in his ear, undoubtedly that of
the Supreme Being, since no Earth man had the brain capability needed
to use telepathy.
    "Omegas. ", said the voice, "You have been sent to this small town
in New England.."
    Am I good or what?, thought Omegas.
    "..in order for you to become accustomed to your new-found mortality.
I have chosen this town, Old Town, in the state of Maine, for it's
desirable quality of being extremely dull, but not to the extent of being
able to cause permanent brain damage to transient visitors.  So here,
Omegas, you will adjust to the idea of being mortal, before you go on to
the next, more dangerous phase of your mission, that of finding the
Disrupters.  Be warned, however, do not attempt to travel to Orono. The
level of dullness there is unutterably high and it would easily kill you
if you dared to venture there. You have been warned." The voice ceased.
    Omegas pondered the Supreme Being's message as he strolled along
the sidewalk.  After his fifth near-stumble over an Indian wasted on
"Iron City", and "Old Duke", he decided that he had had enough. Thinking
for a few moments on the location of his next investigation, he decided
on New York City, preferably Manhattan, so he could look into the
spaceship landing he had "witnessed".  With a snap of his fingers, he
crossed Nether-space to New York.

    Bubba was bored.  He realized that he had stayed in Nether-existance
in order to give his battered system a rest, but enough is enough.  He
had also been further enticed by the infrequent visits of Ralph and Dan
when they returned from the real world for rest and Vitamin E mega-doses.
Deciding finally to chance it with the real world, he took a drink from
a bottle of "Ripple" that he had materialized from Anti-existance and
stepped through the waiting Green Door.
    Instantly, his mind was filled with a barrage of flashing lights
and harsh sounds.  His senses were battered with clashes of noise,
bizarre sensations and weird colors.  His eyes were witnessing a film
of warped images of Earth through, what seemed to be, alien eyes.  His
ears were set echoing with a droning voice, reciting facts about
humans and thier customs, habits and traits.  His memory seemed to be
full of an almost complete knowledge of Earth, as though learned
through a text-book or classroom lecture.  With a flashing insight into
the true reason why orgies are held in Beverly Hills, he passed out.
    Bubba came to in the dark, lying on a cold hardwood floor.  His
head felt like someone with a serious dental problem had mistaken his
skull for a blueberry muffin and had started to eat it, but had realized
that it was, in fact, a sweat sock that had sat in the laundry bag for
one month too long, and had spit the damaged sock and it's partially
masticated remnants out onto the floor.  Pondering the new meaning
of pain that he had been given by this headache-to-end-all-headaches,
Bubba sacrificed his short-term comfort for the long-term gain, and
smashed his head against the floor upon which he was lying.  With a
soft grunt, he passed out into blissful unconsciousness.

    As soon as Omegas had entered Nether-space, his mind was filled
with a barrage of flashing lights and harsh sounds.  His senses were
battered with clashes of noise, bizarre sensations and weird colors.
His mind felt as if a vacuum cleaner had gone through it and had
sucked out all his knowledge.  He had the undefinablly  weird feeling
that his brain was being turned inside-out by psychotic midgets, doped
out on bad drugs.  (I told you that it was undefinable)
    Without realizing it, he was dumped out of Neo-existance, and
appeared in a small room.  The room contained a couch, a small coffee
table covered with magazines, and an over-stuffed chair covered with
food-stains.  From a dark hallway to his left, Omegas heard the sounds
of falling water and someone singing, out of key, about how much he
would like to gain intimate physical knowledge of Samantha Fox, and the
many and varied ways in which he would do it.  The lyrics were bad,
rather repetitive, and quite vulgar; the rhyme scheme needed a serious
overhaul; and the song's basic rhythmic pattern and tonal blend were in
dire want of a re-writing.  Despite all this, Omegas decided, the song
was fine.
    The song's musical merits, or lack thereof, were not the main concern
of Omegas, however.  He was worried about where he was, and why he had
an odd feeling of emptiness in his brain.  After several minutes of
thought, he realized that, somehow, during his voyage through Non-being,
his memory of Earth and humans had been wiped.

              *******************************************
              * Gargavix Oolavant's Pocket Guide to the *
              * Space-Time  Continiuum says that memory *
              * transfers   during    transit   through *
              * Nether-space are rare,  but not unheard *
              * of.  The  first recorded  case was when *
              * the mind of a famous stockbroker on the *
              * planet  Quuul III  was  exchanged  with *
              * that of an even more famous  prostitute *
              * from the planet  Lascivious  VI.   This *
              * mix up  was  quite  upsetting  to  both *
              * parties,  but,  thanks  to the uncommon *
              * skill of a surgeon in Sweden,ultimately *
              * things  came out all right.             *
              * The  second  case  was  when  a  super- *
              * -intellegent  flyoid  from  the  planet *
              * Anopheles III exchanged  locations with *
              * a human from the  planet  Sol III named *
              * Jimmy Hoffa.  Unfortunatly, the flyoid, *
              * disoriented  by it's transit, flew into *
              * a  plate   of   pasta  in  the  italian *
              * restuarant  that  the  human  had  been *
              * and was unwittingly eaten by a man with *
              * no  neck  named  "Guido the Fist."  The *
              * human  was   stung   to  death  by  the *
              * flyoid's  estranged  wife  and maggots. *
              *******************************************

This loss disturbed him quite badly until the horrid signing from the
hallway was renewed with a new emphasis on a person named Morgan
Fairchild, and an idea came to him.
    Unfortunatly, it would pose some moral problems, but since he had
never been a moral-problem type, Omegas brushed them off and proceeded
about his plan.  With a snap of his fingers, he disappeared from the
apartment, and re-appeared underneath the shadow of the Pearly Gates.
Nearby stood St. Peter who was interviewing a possible inhabitant of
the Happy Hunting Grounds.  On a podium in front of the Saint sat the
object of Omegas visit to this place, The Book.  The Book was a
compendium of all that Was, Is, and Will Be, of everyone's deeds,
misdeeds, and thought-about deeds.  It also, incidentally, was a load
of laughs to read.  And to change, thought Omegas.  He advanced upon
St. Peter.
    "..and then, Mr. Fizpot, you had the unutterable audacity to ask
you wife to forgive you after you had tied her up, shaved her, and
tattooed 'Nazi Surfers Must Die' into he shoulder blades!", said St.
Peter the the applicant.
    "But St. Peter, sir, she insulted my pet snake, Barney!", exclaimed
Mr. Fizpot.
    Omegas snapped his fingers and the two arguing figures froze in their
positions with an unnatural stiffness.  He walked up to the podium, took
the pencil from St. Peter's hand, and set to work on The Book.
    After a few minutes of erasing, writing, and re-reading, Omegas
returned the pencil to it's rightful owner, straightened the book and
waved his hand.  St. Peter and Mr. Fizpot came out of their trance and
Omegas disappeared.
    "..and then you ate her *dog*.", continued St. Peter as if nothing
had happened.

    Omegas reappeared in the apartment mere seconds after he had left it.
The shower was still running and it's occupant still singing.  Omegas
advanced into the hallway and toward the source of sound.  He arrived at
a closed door, from under which seeped a trail of thick steam.  He
opened the door and stepped inside.  He walked over to the shower-curtain
and ripped it open, revealing a wet, naked man.  Before the
aforementioned bathing nudist could react, Omegas waved his hand and
the man's brain appeared in Omegas' hand, wet and grey.  The man in
the shower uttered a little gasp of shock and started to fall, but
before he could open his skull on the shower-spout, Omegas snapped his
fingers once again, and his stopped in mid-air.
    Omegas walked out into the living room and cleared off the coffee
table with a fan of fire from his fingertips.  He set down the fresh,
albeit small, brain on the charred formica.  Instantly, a squat silver
machine the size of a clock-radio appeared next to the heap of
grey-matter.  Connected to the device by three thin gold cables were a
head set, and two needle-like probes.  Omegas picked up the probes and
sunk them deep into opposite sides of the waiting brain.  After
twiddling with the knobs on the front of the machine, he placed the
head-set onto his own head.
    "Scan. All information pertaining to Earth and it's inhabitants.",
said Omegas to the silver box.
    A soft hum escaped the machine as it followed Omegas' orders.  After
a second, the hum stopped and Omegas spoke again.
    "Load. All information gained by previous scan.", he commanded.
    A slightly louder hum emanated from the machine, and Omegas' mind
was filled with flashing, pulsing images of parties, classrooms, people,
and scenes of animals.  After a few minutes, the images ceased and,
thoroughly disgusted, Omegas removed the head-set from his head and
the machine disappeared.
    "Yuck!", he said to no-one in particular, "They do *that* with their
*mouths*?"
    With a wave of his hand, the punctured lump of brain tissue turned,
in a flash of fire, into a pile of fine ash.  Omegas turned from the
coffee table, opened the front door, and walked outside.  Using his
new-found knowledge, he set off in the direction of Central Park, to
investigate the spaceship.

Will he investigate the spaceship?
Will he find Doctor Von Spleen?
Will St. Peter find Omegas?
Will they duke it out?
Will Zombie Prostitutes from the Venus come and take Bubba away to their
sex-slave camp on the planet Narf?
Probably not.

But to find out for sure, tune into the next action-packed edition of
SFSTORY CSNOTICE, where men are men, and sheep are scared.

***** Entry appended 16:38 on Thu, 06/04/87 by RPS385   at MAINE    # 037 *****
=========================================================================
Appended 16:17 on 06/12/87 by Jeff Smith:

    Omegas walked swiftly up the sidewalk toward Central Park.  He
expected there to be a large crowd gathered, so he summoned up a rather
advanced type of ray-gun from the Quartermaster in the Sky.  Feeling
more confidant with this bit of portable artillery at his side, he
strided quickly towards his destination.  However, after several
minutes of this confidant striding, his legs began to tire.  Deciding
that the most expedient way of getting to Central Park would be a cab, he
stepped into the street and hailed one.  Soon, one of the yellow vehicles
pulled up beside him, and he opened the door and entered.
    "Central Park, please. and step on it."
    "Escuze-moi, garcon. Je ne parle pas anglais." said the cabbie.
    "Pardon me?", said Omegas.
    "Pen-toi, vache mangeur!  Va-t'en!", said the cabbie vehemently.
    "Excuse me, sir..", said Omegas.
    "Va-t'en.", uttered the cabbie.
    "Take me to Central Park, Earthling.", said Omegas forcefully, for
he was now quite fed up with this shit.
    "Mange-moi.", said the cabbie and folded his arms over his chest
    "Take me to Central Park, or I will fry your brain, worm.", said
Omegas, brandishing the gun he had.  However, the cabbie still looked
stoically ahead.
    "Okay, if that's the way you want it.", said Omegas and pulled the
trigger.
    "Zizzzzzz.", said the gun as it emitted a thin beam or near invisible
radiation.
    "Foof!", said the cabbie's upper torso as it evaporated in a puff of
smoke.
    "Whoops.", said Omegas, realizing that he must have set it on the
wrong power.
    Omegas slid the power-level slider down to an acceptable level, but
not before disposing of the remainder of the cabbie's body.  Finding no
other solution to his transportation dilemma, Omegas climbed into the
front seat of the cab, and started up the engine.
    Due to the fact that he had gained, along with general knowledge of
the Earth, the ability to drive during his memory transfer, Omegas slid
skillfully out into traffic, denting very few cars, and rendering only
one totally inoperative.  Despite this remarkable bit of beginner's luck,
Omegas settled down and sped recklessly toward Central Park.
    Several minutes later, he coasted to a stop on top of a motorcycle,
luckily killing no-one (no-one of importance, anyway).  He opened the
door of the cab, stepped out, and slammed it shut, causing it to fall
off it's hinges and add to the general scrap-heap he was parked on.
Omegas checked his gun to be sure that it was powered up, stuck it
inside his jacket, and walked in the general direction from where he had
last seen the ship.
    Soon, he rounded the top of a small knoll and saw spread out before
him the burnt destruction that the ship's landing had caused.  As he had
suspected, a throng of curious spectators had gathered around the
perimeter of the blast-hole, and were listening as the ship's owner
talked over a loudspeaker.
    "..and then, I want all of the 6-foot tall blondes brought to me,
along with three big cans of Redi-Whip. Got all that?", said the man
to the listening crowd.  A murmur of confusion rippled back and forth
among the spectators.
    Omegas removed the gun from inside his jacket and carefully aimed
it down into the middle of the crowd.  A few well-placed shots later,
the majority of the crowd was running and screaming, clearing the way
for Omegas to get closer to the ship.
    He strolled down the hill-side and into the circle of burnt earth.
He stepped over the charred and blistered carcass of some largish
animal and advanced upon the spaceship.  Unfortunatly, for him, Omegas
did not see the slight waver in the air in front of him that signaled a
powerful force-screen, so with a thump, Omegas gained a bloody nose and
a headache.
    Omegas picked himself off the ground, wiped the blood from his face
and pondered the problem before him.  Obviously, to get at the ship, and
consequently it's owner, he had to get inside of the force-screen. That,
thought Omegas, is the nub of the dilemma. Recalling that most starships
of this time-period were notoriously power-level sensitive, Omegas
turned the power up to maximum on his gun, and aimed it at the force
field in front of him.
    He pulled the trigger and was instantly showered in a spray of hot,
white sparks.  The shield in front of him began to show a tint of red,
which deepened and slowly grew bright orange. Meanwhile, Omegas was
getting more and more worried: things were not working out as expected:
the shield was not collapsing.  He released the trigger, and surveyed
his handiwork.  Nothing. The shield didn't show any unsteadiness, nor
any marks of the tremendous energies that it had just withstood.
    Puzzled, but not daunted, Omegas summoned from the Etheral Warehouse
a more "industrial" strength weapon: the infamous Multi-Spectral Ionic
Fusion Projector that had brought the brave army of Zan back from
the brink of defeat and into the arms of victory during their 70-year
war against the terrible forces of Qoon the Wild.
    He carefully unfolded the Projector's tripod, placed the Emitter
housing on the swivel stand, and connected the control module up to the
power source with a thin cable.  He screwed a much thicker cable into
the base of the Projector, and fastened it's other end to the power
pack.  He stepped back a few paces, and activated the control module.
After a few seconds of waiting, a small red diode lit up on the panel,
signalling that the power had reached an acceptable level.
    Omegas inserted the safety key and pressed the "Charge" button.  A
loud hum suddenly erupted from the squat, white box that was the power
source and, with passing seconds, the hum's pitch grew higher and
higher until, when it reached the threshold of hearing, a yellow light
lit itself on the panel in front of Omegas.  He adjusted a few dials,
and, with a flourish, pressed the large red button labeled "Discharge"
    An intense, white beam of energy shot from the snub nose of the
Projector, casting sharp, black shadows on the ground.  The shield in
front of the projector shook and wavered, but it still absorbed the
blast.  Omegas thought grimly to himself that when that shield gave
out, which it would, there wasn't going to be a whole lot left of the
ship it was "protecting".  However, with the passing minutes, it
became more and more obvious that the shield wasn't giving in this
easily, and with a expletive of disgust, Omegas turned up the power,
praying that the power source could stand the strain.

    Meanwhile, inside the ship, Doctor Von Spleen made his careful
way toward the ships' cockpit, making sure not to overturn any of
the carefully balanced piled of refuse and garbage that he had
stored in the airlock.
    He entered the control room and, using the ship's computer, began
to plot a course to Washington D.C. that would involve the minimal
destruction of national monuments.  However, his attention was soon
drawn away from this task by a hitherto dormant flashing red light.  The
Doctor consulted the ponderous Ship's Owner's Manual about this new
phenomena.  The entry he found read thus:

   Emergency Light Signal #183: This light will flash on and off when
   there is a danger of the shield generator backfeeding energy into
   the main power source, causing a rupture of the safety seal. See
   also, "Shield Generator", and "Reactor Safety Seal."

The Doctor pondered this and, flipping pages, arrived at the entry of
"Reactor Safety Seal."

    Reactor Safety Seal: The reactor safety seal is an artificial
    electromagnetic field that contains the matter/anti-matter
    annihilation flux chamber.  If the safety seal is ruptured by
    any means, destruction of the ship will result.  See also
    "Emergency Light Signal #183", and "Boom."

The Doctor looked at this last line, read once again, and flipped through
the book to the entry on "Boom."

    Boom: The sound made when the Reactor Safety Seal is ruptured and
    the ship is destroyed by escaping anti-matter. See also "Reactor
    Safety Seal", and "Death."

This has gone far enough, thought the Doctor, and set down the book.  He
turned back to the console that contained the blinking light and wondered
what to do.  After searching his mind for courses of action, he realized,
with a start, that he had no anti-matter in his engines, which was why
the previous owner had left, and consequently he needn't worry.  However,
the blinking light did annoy him, so he turned it off with a swift stroke
from a spanner in his toolbox.
    However, unnoticed in the corner of the cabin, covered by a back
issue of "Bosom" magazine, the ABPSAR was clicking silently to itself
in alarm.  A dangerous amount of energy was building up in it's
capacitor circuits, and, unless it was bled off and released, something
would have to give, most likely with a bang and a large cloud of
radioactive debris.

Will ship be reduced to a cloud of radioactive debris?
Will the Doctor die with it?
Will Omegas go up with it, as well?
Will New York City also go up in smoke?

To find the thrilling answers to these and other thrilling dilemmas, stay
tuned for the next thrilling edition of SFSTORY CSNOTICE.

***** Entry appended 16:17 on Fri, 06/12/87 by RPS385   at MAINE    # 038 *****
=========================================================================
Appended 16:08 on 06/14/87 by Jeff Smith:

    Omegas snapped his fingers and a small glossy book appeared in his
hands with the words "Product Guide and Reference Manual" emblazoned
in large, red letters on its front cover.  He leafed quickly through
it's pages until he came across the entry he was looking for.  He
consulted a table of contents, turned a few more pages and started
reading.

  Weaponry - Technological Level 20+

    Mega-Hawk Seek-and-Destroy Missile: This small, portable weapon
    weighs only three pounds but contains more destructive potential
    that most planets can unleash at the height of thier war-mongering
    phase.  One Mega-Hawk missile can seek out, over a distance of
    several thousand light-years, a single moon, planet, star, and within
    minutes reduce it to a boiling cauldron of sub-atomic particles.

"Too strong.", said Omegas to himself.  He leafed slowly through the
book, glancing at the weapon listings on each.

    Micro-master Atom Crusher: If used properly, the Micro-master can
    find and annihilate a particular atom, molecule or compound at a
    rate of up to 100,000 atoms per second.  This "weapon" is highly
    useful for computer sabotage and waging large-scale warfare upon
    the diminutive inhabitants of the planet Micromini XII.

"Too weak.", said Omegas to himself. He leafed more quickly through the
book.

    Mega-Death Eternal-Destructo Super-Zap Kill-Beam:  This aptly named
    beam-weapon was invented and first used by the inhabitants of the
    planet Florn XII against their hereditary enemies on the planet Florn
    XIII.  The beam gouged a path of destruction through 12,000 parsecs
    of space, destroying over 50,000 inhabited planets and 100,000
    stars.  Fortunatly, the weapon has many settings, not all of which
    are as deadly as the latter.

"Aha!", exclaimed Omegas out loud.  Smiling, he stood up, and brushed the
dirt from the seat of his pants.  With a wave of his hand, the book
disappeared, and a large, white box materalized in it's place.  On the
front of the box there was a single, glass lens, at the rear was a large
dial, marked from zero to one hundred in increments of 0.01, and next to
it, a large, red button with a red light above it.  Omegas advanced upon
the box, and examined its controls.
    After a few seconds of careful study and thought, he turned the dial
to 25.00, made sure the glass lens was pointing at the shield, and
pressed the button.
    A loud hum escaped the box, but the shield in front of the box stood
as placidly as ever.  Omegas turned the dial up several more settings and
waited for an effect.  Still Nothing.
    He turned it up again, this time to 40.00. Still nothing.
    Again. Up to 50.00.  Still nothing.  Nada.  Zilch.
    Fed up with waiting in general, he quickly turned the dial up to
90.00.  Still no change in the shield.
    He yanked hard on the dial, turning it to 100.00, and breaking it
off in the process.  With the sudden increase in power, the hum emitted
by the box grew in volume, but still the shield stayed steady.  Absorbed
in his actions, Omegas had failed to notice that a tall, dapper man,
dressed in an elegant suit had come up behind him and was watching with
progress with great amusement.
    Suddenly, before Omegas could react, the shield gave out, and, in
a searing blast of intense radiation, it blew forth all the energies that
had been used against it in one, intense blast of heat and hard
radiation,  engulfing Omegas.
    However, the heat, although it was easily in the millions of degrees
Kelvins, affected him not in the least, and neither did the thousands
of REMs of radiation that were bombarding him. Confused, but not upset,
he peered into the boiling vapors ahead of him to see if the ship had
been destroyed.
    "Looking for something?", said a deep, resonant voice from behind
him.
    Omegas whipped around and confronted the man that had also withstood
the tremendous destruction that should have evaporated them both.  Due
to his super-human intellect, he instantly recognized the man as the
Devil, helped no doubt by the small, yet conspicuous, horns sprouting
from his forehead.
    "What are you doing here?", asked Omegas.
    "Watching you.", replied Lucifer.
    "Well you can stop now, dude. My job here is done.", said Omegas as
he turned to leave.
    "Wait!", commanded the Devil.  Omegas froze in his tracks and the
Adversary walked over to him.
    "You no doubt realize that you are alive right now.", said the
Prince of Darkness.
    "Wow. I am, like, amazed at your massive intellect.", sneered
Omegas.
    "You, also, no doubt realize that the Supreme Being made you a
mortal, and without *somebody's* help, you would be a pile of cinders
right now.", said Bealzebub.
    "I guess the ol' Supremo changed his mind.", replied Omegas.
    "Wrong.  I have temporarily invested you with immortality again.
However", said Satan, "you don't get off scott-free."
    "So what does your Immense Awfulness want?", asked Omegas.
    "Your services for an time-period to be specified at a later date.",
said the Devil.
    "Ha!  Fat chance, Hot One.", said Omegas, "I am quite happy with
my present employer, thank you."
    "Then, to ashes you go. Fare well, Omegas.", and with this, he
raised his hand and began an intricate wave that would, doubtless,
reduce Omegas to a small pile of smouldering debris.
    "Wait!", cried Omegas, "I think I may have reconsidered."
    "Really?", asked Lucifer with an affected air of surprise, "My dear
Omegas, are you betraying the Supreme Being for little old moi?"
    "Cut the jabber, okay dude? I will work for you, but under these
conditions only, okay?"
    The Devil smiled indulgently, materialized a chair, and sat down
upon it. "Go ahead.", he said.
    "First, budro, you let no-one know that I am working for you as
well as the Supreme Being.  Second, I want to retain my immortality,
and third, I want women. Lots of them. Naked, horny, and with no
morals. Got all that?"
    Satan chuckled to himself and stood up. "Agreed.", he said, "You
begin work immediately.  Your first job is to.."
    "Stop!", interrupted Omegas, "What about my conditions?"
    "Hmmn? Oh. Let's see.  You already have immortality, and no-one knows
that you are working for me.  Conditions fulfilled."
    "What about the babeage?", asked Omegas.
    "Excuse me? Oh, the females. Have no fear, you will have more
hair-pie than you can handle when you complete your mission. I promise."
    "Okay.  So what's my mission, dude.", said Omegas as he turned
away from Lucifer and surveyed the blasted destruction that he had
caused when he finally destroyed the ship and it's force field.  He
smiled to himself in amusement.
    "Your first job is to go to The Book, and change history so that you
didn't destroy the ship you so recently annihilated."
    "What!?!?!!?", screamed Omegas, whipping around to confront Satan
face to face.
    "I said..", repeated Lucifer.
    "I know what you said!", screamed Omegas.
    "Than why ask me?", inquired the Host of Hell.
    "I can't believe you would ask  me that.", said Omegas, "My God!"
    "Where?!", cried the Adversary as he looked about himself warily.
    "Nowhere, that's just an expression, man.  No about my assignment..",
continued Omegas.
    "Oh.. ", said the Hell Master, much relieved. "Yes, about your
mission, "continued Satan, "as the primitives who inhabit this planet
would put it, 'Do or Die.', and with that I bid you good-bye until the
mission is carried out.  Farewell, my thrall." With a puff of black
smoke, the Prince of Darkness disappeared.
    "Shit.", said Omegas.  He snapped his fingers and was gone.

Where is Omegas?
Where is Satan?
Where are the naked women?
Where is the Planet of Women?
Where is the planet Voorn where the great insect-creatures roam freely,
hunt the large, stupid herbivores also inhabiting the planet, and
occasionally get into small, inconclusive wars where many insects die,
but all have a good time?
Can I write a longer sentence than that one?

To fine the answers to all these and more mind-expanding questions,
read the next edition of SFSTORY CSNOTICE!

***** Entry appended 16:08 on Sun, 06/14/87 by RPS385   at MAINE    # 039 *****