| From: | jaimie.nicholson@********.otago.ac.nz (Jaimie Nicholson) |
|---|---|
| Subject: | Will talk more for more food |
| Date: | Wed, 29 May 1996 13:52:12 +1200 (NZST) |
less
drek about it this time. What are you guys, elitists or something? "We
don't allow squatters on this board". What? Do I, like, violate the dress
code? Words fail me.
So, here it is. I was in Redmond, hanging around, reading my messages about
how I shouldn't be allowed to talk to you superior fraggers (bitter? Me?
Not even a little bit), when I get told to move along. The teller's a big
fragger, black (armoured? Drek yes) clothing, weird looking plastic pistol,
shades and all. So I pull my plug out of the hole in the wall where I've
tapped the phone lines, then do my famous "I'm a harmless squatter" routine
(again, I'm getting fraggin' good at it), and slide off back to my nice
warm alley. The guy watches me go, then turns around and surveys the area.
He seems happy enough, and I settle down behind some garbage cans and wait
to see what happens next. After all, last time I saw something like this, I
got such happy, friendly, postitve responses (yeah, _right_). So he's
waiting, and I'm waiting, and then all hell breaks loose.
This mil-surplus type truck (you know, like, a big fragger with canvas
sides and just a touch of armour) is pulling out of a service road, moving
off down the street, and suddenly one of its tyres explodes, and there's
this little burst of fire and rubber from where it happened, like a tiny
explosive charge. It reels off to one side for a moment, looks like it's
recovering, and then it gets hit by a fraggin' Ford Americar (which has to
be souped up to survive that impact even vaguely intact). Already lurching,
the truck crashes up onto the curb and into a store-front, smashing through
assorted hi-fi gear and other goodies. Now I want a bit of that, I've never
been above a little looting, but I think I'll sit tight for a moment first,
just to see what's going down.
And what, you ask, is going down? Since I didn't get no food last time, I
ain't telling the rest of the story until someone puts out (as it were).
Drop a certified credstick to the value of 100 nuyen, with your net-name
encoded on it, in the bin behind >>Downtown restaurant name<<, and we'll
talk.]<<<<<
-- (Perhaps overcautious) Squatter <12:52:50/05:29:57>
