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Mailing List Logs for ShadowRN

Message no. 1
From: Geoffrey Gerrietts <Siothrun@***.COM>
Subject: Carbondale Nightlife
Date: Sun, 18 Dec 1994 05:41:29 -0500
>>>>>[Good evening, one and all! The city seems to be pulsing beneath the
datawebs this eve, does it not? It is looking as if the student population is
slowly beginning to disintegrate into their respective origins, and as this
occurs, the nights quiet down and the locals get braver. Ooh, such the hotbed
these days, too, this puny town.

I spent the most of yesterday trying to trace those boys in the van. The
oozings of our prisoner's grey matter have proven useful in identifying the
key players here in town. Anyone interested should spend a few hours in the
Cellar, a small tavern beneath the oldest railroad depot. Biz doesn't exactly
walk up to you, but you can feel its tenor in the subtle shiftings of the
din.

Eve of last, I went wandering with my friend Kim. We were bored, and
discovered that there were several places in Carbondale that goblin races
were not welcomed with open arms. Kim had a vidcam that he rented for the
day, since so many funny pictures have been coming over the net these days,
he wanted to take a few, also. But I'll let him tell that story.]<<<<<
-- Jolly Roger (04:12:56 / 12-18-55)
Message no. 2
From: Geoffrey Gerrietts <Siothrun@***.COM>
Subject: Carbondale Nightlife
Date: Sun, 18 Dec 1994 05:44:59 -0500
>>>>>[Hi. I'm not Kim. My name is Housefly, 'cause with all the flies I'm
workin' with I wanted to be one too. And I'm big, so that's where house comes
from. But Roger doesn't want me to be that. He says its stupid, and he won't
be Ghede Fly either. So I think he's a party pooper.

Roger says I should press this button here to show you all my pictures that I
took. So I am going to do that, 'cause I think they're funny.

+++++Video: You see a rather ghoulish looking ork standing in an alley. He is
dressed in a tuxedo jacket and battered baggy black pants and wears a tophat
which frankly looks as if it had a bitter argument with a food processor. He
smiles and gestures toward the opalescent haze which obscures whatever lies
beyond the mouth of the alley. (Audio: Welcome to Carbondale, city of a
thousand drunkards.) The video cuts when a huge thumb obscures the scene.
(Audio: Cursing cut in synch with video.) Video resumes in a different
location, with both the ork and a rather smallish troll on scene. The troll
is sporting the latest in blatantly armored jackets and grins hugely at the
camera. (Audio: How come he's just standing there, Roger?) The ork looks at
the troll fiercely. (Audio:Shut up, fool. We're on tape.) The troll grins
even more. (Audio: Welcome to our video. We wanted to put neat stuff on
video, too. So Roger found us a good place to hide. And he made us a
cameraman, too. And pretty soon, he's gonna show me who to beat up.) The ork
is shaking his head. Video cuts. The scene is the same, but the ork is
nowhere to be seen. The troll, on the other hand, is standing off in the
shadows. The silhouette of a sound-suppressed rifle is visible gripped in his
hand. (Audio: So you see, my good man, it is really of interest to us all
that we understand completely what the official position of...) The troll
swings into position firing, the flash of the muzzle belying the muffled
thumping of the shots. (Audio: Too early, Kim. You missed the camera angle.)
Video cuts. Same scenario, different location. (Audio: I swear, guys, I had
nothing to do with that. I mean, I don't have the car, do I? It really must
have been someone else.) Three figures emerge from the street, the ork
backpedalling quickly while two men, one swinging a crowbar and one pushing
up his sleeves advance on him. The trolls swings into action. The gentleman
with the crowbar pauses a moment to register surprise (Audio: Hunh?) at the
fine red mist which has replaced his buddy's head when the ork steps forward
to touch him. He crumples. (Audio:Too fraggin' easy. Wish there were some
live ones out here.) Video cuts.

Roger didn't want to do any more after that. He said we should save the rest
of the chip for Anna. I said that we could get more, but he said that it
would be more fun at Anna anyway. So I said OK, let's go to the Stuffer Shack
then, and he said OK, and he let the cameraman die and... oh. Roger says I'm
done now.]<<<<<
-- Housefly (04:32:15 / 12-18-55)

Further Reading

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Disclaimer

These messages were posted a long time ago on a mailing list far, far away. The copyright to their contents probably lies with the original authors of the individual messages, but since they were published in an electronic forum that anyone could subscribe to, and the logs were available to subscribers and most likely non-subscribers as well, it's felt that re-publishing them here is a kind of public service.

Thwap!