| From: | Stefan Hahn <HAHN@***.EDU> |
|---|---|
| Subject: | Jabberwocky |
| Date: | Fri, 24 Sep 1993 13:29:27 -0700 |
"We can't keep playing cat & mouse with him forever!"
>>I REMEMBER A STORY ABOUT THESE MICE, AND THIS CAT, AND--
"Happy Happy"
(unison) "JOY JOY!"
"Now Please Shut Up about it, comprende?"
Scattering a frightened cluster of sheep, dodging over the hillside, dropping
past the next rise...
"I gotta go t' emergency power."
"Anybody have any more bright ideas?"
"No."
"Sorry."
"Anti-yes."
>>NEGATIVE
"Fresh out, mon"
"Great. Just bloody great. I wanted to die in the arms of my lover on a beach
in the carribbean, not on some bloody godforsaken hillside a hundred kilometers
from nowhere!"
"Here he comes again, guys! An' he don't look too happy, neither!"
"What's all this about a lover?"
"A man can dream, can't he?"
The flounder limps away over yet another outcropping of ancient rock. High
above and behind, wings shorten, claws extend, and teeth glisten in a final
sneer of contempt as the dive commences...
>>DIE ON A BEACH?
"'ey, t'ere are worse ways to go, believe me!"
"Actually, my desire was to be trampled by an elephant at the moment of, er,
passion."
"WHAT?"
"Well, at least that way you'd have the most amazing obituary--"
--CRUNCH--
>From your field of vision, it appears as if the great claws have closed around
you, talons scratching your underside, as your sense of controlis totally lost,
and the telltale whine of the turbines sputters to a halt against the
irresitable force sweeping you skywards.
"WHOA!!!"
"DrekDrekDrekDre--"
>>I ONCE SAW THIS STORY ABOUT HOW TORTISES FLY
"OhReally?"
>>YEAH. EAGLES LIFT 'EM UP AND THEN DROP 'EM ONTO THE ROCKS SO THEIR SHELLS
CRACK OPEN AND THEY CAN EAT THE INSIDES."
"Thank you, Michael. That was helpful. See you in Purgatory."
>>SORRY, NEVER BAPTISED.
"How can you be so flip? We're going to die!"
"It beats screaming."
-----
A Meteorological/Geological survey satellite circles the globe in a high orbit.
If you were up there, you'd notice that it seems to have far too many energy-
collection panels for a sat it's size, and an unusual parabolic disk on it's
earth facing.
You'd also notice that it was just now passing over the British Isles.
_____
Wyllyndr triumphantly spread his wings at the top of his climb, his prize
grasped gently in his claws. Now, the game was over, and he had won once again.
He would take great pleasure in personally consuming each of the thrice-damned
B-Team as slowly and painfully as possible...
_____
Somewhere, a tracking subroutine activates a relay.
Tiny servos adjust the disk's precision aim.
The nearly-full storage capacitors vent into the firing chamber.
And, for a fraction of a second, a beam of microwaves squirts earthward.
_____
The Vorpal Blade went snicker-snack...
_____
Wyllyndr's head exploded.
Of course, this was so quickly lost in the greater explosion of his serpentine
torso that it could only be seen, much later, upon reviewing the trid record.
Witnesses on the Isle of Skye swore that, for a moment on that night, the
Good Lord sent down a sign, a blazing crucifix high in the heavens. It flared,
flickered far a moment, and was gone.
_____
The bolt from the blue struck the XLV, and the lights came on as the turbines
spun back to life. With a sickening lurch, the spinning came to a halt and it
leveled off a few hundred meters above the sea, as shards and dragon meat and
various unappetizing and overcooked morsels rained down around the black fish.
>DELETE TIME INTERLUDE 03.17<
"So now whatta we do?"
"I don't know about you, but I, for one would like a very large drink, followed
by a very long vacation."
>>SO ARE WE STILL HEADED FOR MANHATTAN?
"Why not, mon? We already hacked in the reservations."
>>.YOU. HACKED IN THE RESERVATIONS?
"So, d'you think things are getting too wierd around here?"
"Definitely"
"I kinda like it."
(unison) "YOU WOULD."
]<<<<<
