|| -------- -- -----  A E R I E   O B L I V I A N A . singular book of text wandertainment by Frank Edward Nora ------------------- ----------- OSOAWEEK--ISSUE 017--11/17/94 <-------  ||  OsoaWeek  ||  Issues  ||  Book 2  ||  -------> (Cup OWis017, Created v1 (4/27/99), Copyright 1999) = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = [[BEGIN017OW]] [[01017CV]] * * * O S O A W E E K 0 1 7 * * * November 17, 1994 "The weekly ezine of Obliviana Super Occult Amusement!" by Frank Edward Nora INSIDE THIS ISSUE!        Mall of America!                            Lego Blocks!                      Skeletons and guts and stuff!          Scientist Zope     Melting Things                           Kajagoogoo E-Mail from The Bronx!                         Power is good. Content is power.      Manifold-Beyond                     "going to road #4 to see the witches" Typewriter Oil           The Slim V. Effinger Memorial Bus Terminal Irregular Shirt                    Devil Girls!                            Please Download Immediately! (Permission is granted to make complete, verbatim, digital ASCII copies of this copyrighted ezine for the purpose of free distribution. All other forms of reproduction require written permission from Frank Edward Nora.) OsoaWeek is published weekly by Obliviana Super Occult Amusement * copyright 1994 Frank Edward Nora * originating in New Jersey, USA * Contact: 1-800 OBLIVIANA/obliviana@aol.com/call postal: Osoa P.O. Box 60 Iselin, NJ 08830-0060 Character count: 76520 / Line count: 2334 The Table of Contents is at the very end of this file. *OW* [[02017HR]] Hemisinister Review ***MALL OF AMERICA*** It all started the day after Election Day. I was on NJ Transit, going to Manhattan, and reading USA Today to find out more about the glorious Republican triumph the night before. As I browsed the paper, I came upon an interesting little tidbit entitled "Such a Deal". It told how Northwest Airlines was offering a special Mall of America deal--a super low fare, but only if you fly to Minnesota in the morning, and fly back that same evening. I couldn't believe it--could they have tailor-made a better deal for me? There were three dates offered--Nov. 12, Nov. 25, and Dec. 10. Needless to say, I went on the 12th. And boy, was it worth it! Mall of America is a sprawling masterpiece of awesomeness, located in Bloomington, Minnesota, real near the Twin Cities of Minneapolis and St. Paul. The huge structure is composed of the largest indoor amusement park in America, surrounded by three levels of pure mall (400+ stores)--six-tenths of a mile each, almost two miles altogether! Anchored by four department stores, one at each corner, this wonder is topped off by a level of movie theaters and night clubs, including a Planet Hollywood. At either side of the mall are gigantic parking decks--which, along with other parking around the building can hold over 12,000 cars. Looking at the license plates on the top level of one of the decks (the only time I was actually OUTDOORS in Minnesota I saw a lot of cars from North and South Dakota and Montana--we're talking WEST here. The folks in Minnesota are so different from the folks here in the Tri-State area. They're friendly and they talk funny. Here's a random look at some of the aspects of the unbelievable MALL OF AMERICA! POGS These cardboard milkcaps are huge out there! I'm just beginning to see them around here, but man--they're nuts over them! There was a big Pog contest going on, sponsored by Nordstrom. Then the guy at the Pog cart showed me how to play Pog, and told me the Anti-Barney Pogs they had for $2.50 were worth $50 each in California. He also said that Sylvester Stallone came up to him and wanted to have a Pog thing at Planet Hollywood. He also told me that the world championship of Pog would be played right there, at Mall of America. I bought a random pack of four Pogs and got--what else?--three of the Anti-Barney Pogs. Kinda ironic after my tirade against the Anti-Barney trend last issue, eh? I kinda doubt someone'll gimme $150 bucks for them though. KNOTT'S CAMP SNOOPY This is the indoor amusement park, related I suppose to L.A.'s Knott's Berry Farm. It's pretty cool. The place is striving for Disney, and comes only a few notches short. The highlight is definitely the Pepsi Ripsaw Roller Coaster, a lithe, sedate ride which twists and turns it's mild way over the entire park. No thrilling drops or loops here, only a pleasant race around this unbelievably cool place. The other main ride of note is Paul Bunyon's Log Chute by Brawny (yes, the paper towel guy). This features two impressive drops, and "life-size" Mr. Bunyon and Blue Ox--done in rather nice but not-quite-Disney audio-animatronics. It's awesome how the log flume floats so near one of the mall's food courts--where passerby's are there to watch you as you pass by. There are lots of other rides, including one of those Star Tours-like moving theaters, which I hate and passed on. Most of the rides are $2 to $3, depending on how many points you buy at a time. Altogether, Camp Snoopy is an integral part of the glory that is Mall of America. STARBASE OMEGA A run-of-the-mill Laser Tag kind of place. I paid $1 to hang out on the observation deck. The sets were kind of disappointing. They pumped in some kind of theatrical smoke, in which the laser beams could be seen, but it dissipated quickly. The kids having a birthday party there kind of ruined the "you are being transported deep into space" aura. VIDEO GAMES Why is it there are video game arcades everywhere except in New York and New Jersey? Every airport I've ever gone to has arcade games--except Newark, JFK, and LaGuardia! What gives? And Mall of America has not one but TWO big arcades. I guess people that hang out at arcades out there don't do as many crimes. LEGO IMAGINATION CENTER I don't know--I was expecting more from this. Yeah, there were a great many giant Lego sculptures, but it was basically just a store selling Lego blocks. What was I expected? Whatever--a demo of their new Dacta computerized Lego blocks would have been nice. JUNK YARD A store heavily themed as a junk yard, featuring clothes and accessories supposedly made out of garbage. I guess the Eighties are still going on in the midwest--but what's wrong with that? The Eighties rule! TEKNO-COMIX This start-up comic company, headed by Sci-Fi Channel creators, or so I'm told, is now opening a string of comic book stores--mostly in Florida--or so they told me. The best part is the huge mechanical animated hand that's part of the sign. Otherwise, I don't know. One of the new comics is "by" Leonard Nimoy--I mean, who the f*ck cares? Also, they had a 3DO system set up, where you could play Burning Soldier. Why? AMERICA'S ORIGINAL SPORTS BAR Virtual reality! What kind you ask? Dactyl Nightmare of course! The only VR game anyone has anywhere! How goddamn annoying! Also, I saw the giant sumo wrestler costume thing and the Velcro wall thing I think. RAINFOREST CAFE There was like a TV news crew here, so I guess it just opened? A part-store, part-restaurant with sprawling aquariums--even in the shape of an arch. Disgustingly green, but a cool atmosphere. Until I heard over the P.A. "(So-and-so) party of 4, your adventure is about to begin". That kind of crap wouldn't fly in NJ! BAREBONES A store devoted to skeletons and guts and stuff--cool! HOLOGRAM FANTASTIC Hey, holograms are getting pretty good these days! Especially impressive were the "holograms from Russia"--crosses and stuff--that looked almost too three-dimensional to be holograms. I guess out there people aren't so jaded, and they don't have to say "holograms, duh". They're innocent out there--they can just enjoy things! STARLOG Another publication turned store, this had a lot of sci-fi merchandise, old and new, but old Star Wars dolls just don't float my boat like they used to. SCIENTIFIC REVOLUTION Great themed science store! Employees wear lab coats, etc. But the coolest thing was a top that spun totally in mid-air for $45! I shoulda gotten it! It was so excellent! CONCLUSION GO TO MALL OF AMERICA! YOU WON'T BE DISAPPOINTED! I'm sure I left out a lot of good stuff I wanted to review, but it's friggin' 2 am and I have to get up tomorrow! *OW* [[03017ZP]] Zope Today's Episode: SCIENTIST ZOPE ATROV Hi Zope! ZOPE Shut up! I'm doing a very important experiment! Master Joe is dreaming, and he's gonna call me from a payphone in his dream! ATROV Oh come on Zope--that's not possible! ZOPE Someone as ugly and stupid as you isn't possible either, but you manage to exist! Suddenly, the phone rings. ZOPE Hello! Joe! You did it! MASTER JOE No, sorry Zope. I just woke up. It was one of those damn weirdo company payphones--it wouldn't take my calling card number! And Zope--I mean, you think I'd be charged, even if it did work? How much is Dreamworld to reality gonna be? Like a million bucks? ZOPE Did you ever hear of calling collect, goddammit? You get back to sleep and call me collect for goodness sake! Sheesh! ATROV Didn't work, huh? ZOPE Atrov, you're no scientist. SO GET OUT OF HERE! THIS LABORATORY IS FOR SCIENTISTS ONLY! BEGONE! ATROV Sorry--I though it was just your living room. ZOPE Get out! It's usually my living room but for now it's my temporary laboratory! The phone rings again. ZOPE Hello! MASTER JOE I tried again, but I couldn't decide--should I dial zero or 1-800-COLLECT? *OW* [[04017HT]] Halfevil Times Okay folks, some really ancient stuff for ya now--straight from 1991... HALFEVIL TIMES PERCEPTIONS & PONDERINGS EVER WONDER... ...why Peter Arnett hasn't had the sh*t beaten out of him yet? ...why, if God is real, he'd even think of creating an entity such as "Arsenio"? ...what kind of havoc there'd have been in the old West if cowboys had used drills instead of pistols? ...why so many crappy little shopping centers dare to call themselves "malls"? ...why melting things hasn't become more of a family pastime? ...why companies don't invent a new kind of propellant that disintegrates environmentalists, just to end the problem once and for all? EVER NOTICE... ...what a boring little piece of sh*t magazine "Reader's Digest" is? ...that "Alabama" would sound better backwards, as "Amabala"? ...how well those automatic teller machines work when you insert a slice of Spam instead of your bank card? ...that Yogi Bear is a bad role model for most Yogis? ...that recently, the U.S. Space Program has been about as successful as Kajagoogoo? ...that Tetris is god? *OW* [[05017LA]] Lord of Obliviana Hello there. I am Frank Edward Nora, Lord of Obliviana. How are you. I am so tired now I can hardly think. What the hell. I guess I have to go to bed and continue this later. Okay! Now I can get going on this Lord of Obliviana feature. Welcome everyone to the big 17th issue of the greatest ezine the world ever has seen or will see, man. Okay so I want to deal with this issue of the Obliviana Renaissance. Basically, I had hoped to get Osoa revamped and in operation as of issue 13--but it just didn't happen. So now I'm shooting for the beginning of the THIRD Quarter, OsoaWeek027, January 26, 1995. Essentially, what this Renaissance is all about is beginning Obliviana as an online service. But the means will be very primitive--employing run-of-the-mill e-mail and this ezine. Also, I have described to some extent what Tourney and the Storefronts are like, but I haven't really presented any of this yet. What will become more and more apparent is the concept of Obliviana as a game. Everyone with a Fonosta will be able to participate in a variety of challenges, some winning and some losing. And everything will be kept track of. And yes--there will be prizes. I am planning on gradually getting the system going, to the point where I will be ready to handle numerous Fonostas come January 26. And you--yeah you--you'd be wise to get involved early--you'll get a better Fonosta number than just about anyone! Heck--you can even establish your Fonosta right now, using the protocols in the very first issue of OsoaWeek. Because, even though a lot of the parameters will change, the sequential number will remain the same. One thing, though--you gotta have an e-mail address. And speaking of e-mail, I actually have some this week! Two weeks in a row--whattaya know! This time it's from Michael Knobbe, the proud possessor of Fonosta002! Here goes, and as usual, my commentary is in the triple parentheses... Dear Mr. Nora, In OSOA WEEK 003, you make a request for a NY TIMES from the year 2010. Actually, I think the OSOA WEEK issues that I have seen thus far, would probably have more relevance, worthy insights, and juice in 2010 than a NY Times from that period. (((Thank you so much, but I did refer to some horrible disaster which will occur in 2010--and I wanted to know exactly what it's going to be!))) Your concern that GEN X, Y, and Z might wind up being slothful automatons in a digital superworld is legitimate one. The mesmeric qualities of television have lured many people brought up watching the medium toward passivity and mediocrity. A digital superworld could in many respects amplify this tendency, or diminish it depending on a great many factors. Your work to resurrect possibility and freedom through a rejection of corridor is most noble. With OSOA WEEK you weave many intricaces (sic) together to make one huge ontological extravaganza. DENTA sounds like a pragmatic way of attaining incredible entertainment, but it could also be an important tool for attaining knowledge. A positive feature is that there could be a kind of communion between participants rather than secluded individuals engaged in brain dead activities. "Good Bye Popcorn" is beautiful. It is a reality tonic to check contemporary literature. (((The idea that the Digital Superworld will allow people to connect may seem exciting, but after few months of chatting with people on America Online, I have severe reservations about all this connectivity. Who wants to "commune" with a bunch of turds?))) I find your appreciation of just how amazing New Jersy (sic) is, interesting. I am going to make an effort to cross the Hudson and visit DisplayWorld. My Fonasta (sic) looks foward (sic) to the diligent electronic nesting transmutational artificer that will provide maximum enjoyment and I am sure a real challenge. In the meantime, I guess the Pebble Switcher will do. Keep On Keeping On, Michael Max Knobbe Bronx, NY (((I thank you for your most kind e-mail. I hope you enjoy issues 004 thru 016 as much as you did the first three. And watch for the totally new Fonosta system, coming soon. You are one of the three people who have a Fonosta, after all.))) Well folks, that about does it for this installment of "Lord of Obliviana". Enjoy the vastness of this issue as always, and also, as you know, Get All Obliviana! *OW* [[06017NH]] Nihilistica ***OSOAWEEK FRACTIONS*** When you come right down to it, each issue of OsoaWeek is pretty darn big. Originally, I was going to print each issue out, but it took too much time and effort--energy better spent doing more writing! But I do see the need to get some sort of printed OsoaWeek material out to people. Also, I want to be able to use e-mail to send OsoaWeek material to people, but at an average of 70K an issue, it can get pretty cumbersome. For example, the America Online e-mail gateway only allows for 27K of material in each piece of e-mail, meaning that three pieces of e-mail would be needed to transmit the average issue of OsoaWeek. To solve both these problems, I've come up with the idea of OsoaWeek Fractions. One sort of Fraction will be an OsoaWeek feature printed out on both sides of an 8.5 x 11 sheet of paper, and the other will simply be a text file of only a single feature. Look for them! *OW* [[07017CO]] Catalog of Obliviana These days, when you buy a book, magazine, CD, or videotape, you get an artifact which acts as the medium for the information contained within. But as the Digital Superworld develops, more and more of the infostimulation you buy will be pure data--with no physical side, no artifact. In fact, OsoaWeek is such a formless thing--it's pure data. With this in mind, we here at Obliviana Super Occult Amusement feel that artifacts will begin to take on more meaning. And because of this, we have developed a system by which all of the Obliviana Artifacts we release have definite identity--with limited production, each item is numbered, stamped, and personally signed by its creator. The following list contains all the currently available Obliviana Artifacts. To order, send check or money order made out to Frank Edward Nora, or cash (at your own risk), to the address in the Masthead. All prices include postage and handling. Guarantee: Return any Artifact within 30 days of receiving it for a full refund. MINIATURE SUPER OBJECT 1: NON-THORIUM ANTENNA This is a strange little Super Object I developed some time ago as an incentive item to get you to order one of my former magazines. I got no orders, though. Now, there are 40 Non-Thorium Antennas, complete with tiny plastic container and title card. 28 left. OA001. Only $3 each! PERFECT FOVY Fovy was a publication I released fortnightly for five issues last Autumn. Each issue is on one folded-up 11 x 17 sheet of paper, with an awesome 8-Codingseed poster on one side and cool stuff on the other, including two Zope comics per issue! A wonderful collection, bound with a paper band, and only 26 made. 24 left. OA002. Yours for $5! PELTER CD-ROM This is an actual CD-ROM I had pressed over a year ago, and it contains 256 of the coolest clip textures you ever saw! Being for the Macintosh, each image is a 512 pixel by 512 pixel 32-bit color image. As well, each image comes in 6 varieties! These are 32-bit, 8-bit, grayscale, tiled 32-bit, tiled 8-bit, and tiled grayscale. This product never saw commercial release because, (a) I blew all my money just producing it, and (b) I'm too lazy and wary to have anyone else produce it. So! A great bargain, with only 40 copies available. Includes the original color-photocopied cover, and a brand new insert with updated information. Requires Macintosh computer with CD-ROM drive. 38 left. OA003. Only $30 each! READ THIS OR DIE! An awesome collection of Zope comics spanning eight years! Contains twenty sheets of colored paper, with 40 Zope comics in all! Included are "Zope's Resin Conundrum", "Zope's Little Puppet", "Doctor Zope and the Abdomen Ghoul", and loads more! Each set not only has the usual signature, stamp, and number--but an original drawing of Zope as well! All bound together with a big binder clip. A very raw artifact! 20 made, 7 left. OA005. $4 each. *OW* [[08017DY]] Digital Superworld Youth POWER IS GOOD. CONTENT IS POWER. Yes, that's a new slogan of mine--and also a new focus for my efforts. For while the penultimate goal of Osoa is to travel to Obliviana, this is part and parcel of Obliviana being fun and infostimulating--thus Osoa is an entertainment company in the emerging Digital Superworld. Being somewhat immersed in the realm of digital entertainment, today epitomized by "multimedia", CD-ROM, and the like, I am seeing more and more a gaping pit where there should be content. In other words, the technology, the special effects, the graphics, the animation, the sound, the voice, the frames-per-second, and the like take absolute precedence over content. In a recent issue of WIRED magazine, there was a profile on Rocket Science Games--a "hot" startup which combines Hollywood production values with state-of-the-art multimedia scripting systems to produce, supposedly, the next generation of CD-ROM games. After an exhaustive overview of the production system, one of the Rocket Scientists comments (and I'm paraphrasing) that one of the games is, when you get right down to it, just a basic drive-and-shoot game. But because of all the bells and whistles, that's alright. Among the bells and whistles in this case is an involved story, characters, and the human element. But it's a pretty darn awful cliche story of a space trucker, from what I gather--the sort of video game background material I skip over as fast as I can. The point here is that all the selling points of Rocket Science relate to the form, not the content. Hollywood production values, human drama, state-of-the-art graphics, well-known actors, drive-and-shoot game. All of these things relate to the FORM of the CD-ROM title--not the content. And as is the case in so many entertainment products, you can have as impressive a form as you want--without the content, it dies. Why do you think there are so many bad multimedia titles out there now? Lack of good, solid content. Where does content come from? It comes from talented individuals, plain and simple. The problem is, a lot more people feel they have this talent than really do. All too often, especially in the digital entertainment field, software engineers, who are skilled at writing code, feel that they are equally qualified to create the content of an entertainment title. And in all-too-many cases, this proves to be a mistaken notion. There is a lack of respect for those who can create content, because content itself is so misunderstood. I am talented in creating content, and I'm not afraid to say so. OsoaWeek is as close to pure content as a publication can get--all it is is text--no fancy graphics, no bells and whistles, no special effects. Just pure content. And that's the way I like it. See, I believe that as the Digital Superworld progresses, the content shortage will start becoming more and more evident--to the point where content will be an extremely valuable commodity--maybe the most valuable. But I really should clarify just what I mean by the term "content". It is similar, though not identical to, intellectual property. A good example of this would be Bugs Bunny. Bugs Bunny cartoons themselves are chock full of great content, and this is part of what makes the character Bugs Bunny a valuable piece of intellectual property. But when someone wants to do a Bugs Bunny video game, for example, all that does is define the form; it's a game involving Bugs Bunny in some way. But the game itself needs content, in terms of premise, game play mechanics, mood, detail, etc. Prime among these is the game play mechanics--one Bugs Bunny game for the SNES has good graphics and stuff--but it plays like a million other mediocre platform games. And thus, it lacks solid content. In the final analysis, lack of solid content is a massively destructive force in the digital entertainment world--ruining good ideas, flushing money down the toilet, and turning people off to the whole field. Companies will have to start spending more time and money on content sooner or later--let's just hope it's sooner. Cause ya know--those dinosaurs in Jurassic Park--it's only a matter of time before any schlub can do that on his $2,000 PC. What he can't do is create content in which the animated dinosaurs act. Wake up all of you! *OW* [[09017TN]] 209 MANIFOLD-BEYOND As you may have gleaned from past issues of OsoaWeek, the central goal of Obliviana Super Occult Amusement is to travel to Obliviana, which is a true, physical world coexisting with what we know as reality. But my purpose right now is not to delve into the issue of getting to Obliviana, but rather, deal with one of the major intellectual hurdles to understanding Oblivianan theory--that being the model of the universe employed in Obliviana, which greatly contradicts the accepted scientific model of the way the universe functions. Upon coming to understand the Obliviana model of the universe (which involves stuff like the non-existence of outer space, a vastly larger surface of the Earth, Primal energies, and the like), the usual reaction is to reject it on the grounds that it goes against all the knowledge mankind has acquired over the past several centuries. And indeed, the Oblivianan viewpoint IS totally at odds with science. One might think that in order to accept Obliviana, science must be rejected. And while this is a reasonable assumption, it's wrong--and that's because of another Oblivianan theory--that of the manifold-beyond. We assume that there exists something beyond the scope of our direct experience--let us call this the BEYOND. In science, the beyond is an Earth which is round, a vast universe in which we are less than a speck, atoms, molecule, cells, and the like. None of these things are observable as such in our direct experience. These things are assumed to exist, because of measurements and observations made by scientists and others. For example, the idea that stars are the same sort of thing as the sun, only much farther away, cannot really be demonstrated via our direct experience. The sun looks like a large, incredibly-bright thing in the sky, while stars are tiny sparkling points of light. Through a variety of techniques, scientists have determined that stars are suns--and in their view of the beyond, this is so--stars are suns. But as far as we can tell from direct experience, this is but one possible explanation for what stars are. The Obliviana view of stars is that they are Primal objects in the firmament, a sort of view into the Primal realm. Not suns at all. Not things that are inconceivably distant, but rather, kind of close. I know, I know. This whole thing kind of throws the whole space program into question. And this is where it gets dangerous. Without the idea of the manifold-beyond, I would have to sit here and tell you that yes--the moon landings were faked. I would have to point out that the Space Shuttle doesn't even venture into space--it stays in the very upper reaches of the atmosphere. I would have to say that very few people have ever ostensibly really been in space. But this is not what I'm saying, thank goodness. I am not a UFO freak, and Obliviana in some sort of goofy cult. So what I'm saying is that in this situation, where we have two very distinct visions of the beyond, we have to look beyond conventional reasoning and consider the possibility of the two coexisting. That is, each of these models--the scientific and the Oblivianan--are each equally valid. And not only that, but there a heck of a lot more beyonds out there, all coexisting. And since all of them would result in the exact same here and now, there is nothing to prove that they don't all exist. At this point you might be wondering how stars can be both suns and Primal twinkles, how the moon landings can be both valid and fake, how the Earth can be both round and--dare I say it?--flat. The reason is, at any given time, you are "tuned in" to a single beyond, out of the many that exist. And for the sake of terminology, let us call a single beyond a Backyard. So what we have in the manifold-beyond theory is a single experience-level reality, being caused by and being a part of numerous different Backyards. A good analogy for these coexisting beyonds is that of television channels--all coexisting, but out of which you tune in a single one at any given time. And so this is the situation I am proposing--one where I can say the Earth is flat without being a loony! I have had this idea long before it became so utile. I recall describing it to a co-worker in 1990, and being totally unable to get my point across. But now, of course, this theory is eminently useful to me--allowing me to wallow comfortably in theories commonly considered sick, stupid, and insane--without giving up my grasp on the conventional. And I do hope I've conveyed this idea to you satisfactorily--I know it's a tough thing to visualize, but once you grasp it, the universe suddenly becomes a much larger, more interesting place. And of course, through the utilization of this theory, along with other Oblivianan concepts, you may very well physically cross over into Obliviana--opening up a breathtaking new frontier, and making you a pioneer the likes of which have never been seen. So don't worry--I'm not a UFO/Bigfoot/Conspiracy person--not by a longshot. My goal is actual, physical travel to the world which coexists alongside the one we know--the world of Obliviana. It can be done, and we can have a lot of fun getting there. I am sincere about this. *OW* [[10017AD]] Actuality Destructor ACTUALITY DESTRUCTOR 3 The existence of an occult realm (supernatural plane, spiritual world, etc.) is a matter of conjecture. If one does exist, its specific nature is in question. And even if its nature is known, its particular contents and inhabitants are variable. Therefore, when a religion says something like "You will go to God after you die.", it's saying: (A) an occult realm exists, (B) it's the sort of occult realm where human spirits and all-powerful beings exist, and (C) this particular God is in this specific realm. Being that there are three distinct assertions being made, and since all are in question, it is certainly possible that part of a religious assertion can be true while other parts of it are false. Therefore, an occult realm may exist, but with a different nature and/or different inhabitants and contents. In the above example, it could be possible that an occult realm exists which has human spirits and all-powerful beings, but in which the specific deity and structure are totally different from what is being asserted. If religious assertions can indeed be partly true, this opens up a wide variety of disturbing scenarios. Humanity's severe lack of sensory ability into the occult realm exacerbates this situation considerably, and makes the puzzle all the more frustrating. *OW* [[11017SU]] Superior SUPERIOR 117 This is the time for it, man. This is the place. I was just wondering about you. Are you okay. I am in love with some girl in the building where I work? Well, that's no surprise in the supposers sun star, in occult festivals, young people who are sex. It was my credo to "ever tell a fib"; and my life was a large lie of a loony variety. Can they loose their ire in my demise, I wonders. Them, as partners in ire, in way. As I sit and steam, and bake, and writhe in my own situations, I wonder a lot of ways of my lives. So this is the life. SUPERIOR 118 Now this is not me--I am writing as a character of some sort I think. School in the movie--I blast my own road away--or what was it? I'm talking awake, no talking able to pierce my veil of vacuum. A weird thought--to return there. That the place is not as it seems--or rather--that the act of comparison can alter reality. Eh. Not the end yets. It ends. SUPERIOR 119 Being woken up by Lucky licking me in the face, then getting up, and also the weird electrical phenomena and fiends outside and also, the rusted metal seat I was going down the street on, and also, driving the car off the porch to see the fiends and also, the going to road #4 to see the witches. I have all these cool new superheroes. SUPERIOR 120 Let's go to a hotel to piss and sh*t. Like, driving a car towards Martinsville and getting a weird feeling in my head, and man, I just couldn't stand it, it was all wrong. Writhe in vook? They are quite displeasing. Well, her, well--perhaps musing on it is purer, nicer, (cheaper), etc. than actually moving forward with her (if I even/ever could). *OW* [[12017DH]] Dehumidifier FOR JOEY 4--"Typewriter Oil" SCENE ONE EXTERIOR--PARK--WINDY OVERCAST DAY CHAS and TEDDY sit on the ground, relaxing. CHAS As the day wends its windy way forth, we are but brittle leaves, collapsing against metal fountains, our sundered elements crying for the western breeze... TEDDY Feeling nihilistic today, Chas? CHAS I don't know...there seems to be a foreboding all around us...smothering us...ready to slabjolt us with a bolt of frisky thunder... TEDDY looks at CHAS with a confused/pissed-off/apathetic expression. TEDDY A bolt of thunder? I always thought bolts were made of lightning. CHAS Well, nuts to you. TEDDY Yeah, nuts. Nuts and bolts. Funny, Chas. Funny. CHAS Yeah well I'm tellin' ya Teddy, something's not right with the world today. Maybe some military ghost is back to cause destruction--or maybe the ocean will rise, engulfing us all... TEDDY That's a load of crap, Chas. You know nothing cool like that ever happens. CHAS Yeah I guess you're right. The two look around for a moment or two. TEDDY So are we still going to that stupid social awareness meeting? CHAS I guess so. TEDDY Uh huh. CHAS I guess we sort of promised we'd be there. TEDDY Yeah. A few moments pass. TEDDY (Cont'd) Well, I guess we'd better get going. CHAS (getting up) Yeah, wouldn't want to miss it. TEDDY also gets up and they both walk off. INTERIOR--HOUSE--DAY CHAS and TEDDY are walking through somebody's house, up one set of stairs and down another, and past perturbed residents. CHAS Is this one of those meetings where they have all sorts of gross pastries on a table? TEDDY I imagine so. CHAS Well why don't we stop by the grocery and get some real food to bring? TEDDY We can't, because these people are very touchy about their pastries. CHAS Oh. They continue through the house. CHAS (Cont'd) You know what I never figured out? Why we have to walk through this house every time we go to the other side of town. TEDDY I don't know--just a harmless affectation, I suppose. CHAS I suppose. They exit the house. EXTERIOR STREET--DAY CHAS and TEDDY walk along. INTERIOR MEETING ROOM--DAY CHAS and TEDDY enter the room, only to find two flaky people on the floor, writhing in agony, apparently extremely ill. Another flaky person (female) is attending to them, but on the verge of hysterics. Another guy is sitting by the wall, hand to forehead as if totally stressed-out. Also, there is a burnt-out, beleaguered-looking fellow, PAT, who greets CHAS and TEDDY. PAT (politely pushing CHAS and TEDDY back, trying to hide the commotion behind him) Chas! Teddy! Y'know, I'm really glad you guys made it, but, y'know... TEDDY (looking over PAT's shoulder) Hey Pat, what's going on over there? The two sick people moan and yell, as their attendant looks around in confusion and panic, not knowing what to do. PAT (motioning CHAS and TEDDY into the hall.) Look guys, okay? I mean, there's...we have a little...situation here. CHAS What kinda situation? The sick people moan louder. PAT Come out in the hallway and I'll tell ya. The three of them go out into the hallway. TEDDY So what's up? PAT (motioning with his hands) Okay, okay. There's a little situation going on in there. Uh... CHAS Are those people sick or something? PAT (nodding head in exaggerated manner) Uh...yeah, yeah, you could say that. CHAS and TEDDY say nothing, apparently waiting for PAT to continue. PAT (Cont'd) Y'know guys, I got a real problem here, but... PAT looks at his watch. PAT (Cont'd) ...uh, look guys, hold on a second. PAT looks back into the room and addresses DORIS, the woman attending to the sick people. PAT (to DORIS) Uh...Doris? You got things under control for now, right? You can, uh, manage. Right? DORIS (on the verge of tears) Pat...why do you do this to me? What did I do to deserve this? What do you want me to do? PAT Okay Doris, look, uh, I'll talk to ya later, okay? I mean, I really, can feel your...your angry vibes and...and...we should really, y'know, get together, later to connect, y'know....connect... DORIS stands there and breaks out in tears. The two sick people continue to moan, and are beginning to look pale and generally unwell. PAT (Cont'd) Okay, well I'm gonna take Chas and Teddy upstairs for the other meeting, okay? DORIS continues to cry and does not respond. PAT turns back to CHAS and TEDDY. PAT (Cont'd) (starting down hall) Alright guys, now there's another meeting upstairs. So why don't we go up there and really...communicate, y'know, really connect. TEDDY (following PAT) Yeah sure what the hell. One meetings as good as the next for me. CHAS (also following) Hey Pat what's wrong with those people? PAT (looking around) I'll tell you on the elevator. The three walk down the hall and when they arrive at the elevator doors, PAT pushes the up button, looks around, seems impatient, then begins to press the button repeatedly. PAT (Cont'd) C'mon! Just as he says this the elevator doors open and the three enter the elevator. INTERIOR--ELEVATOR--DAY TEDDY So what's the deal? PAT I tell ya guys, one of our people, y'know--Carl, well, he was getting the pastries 'cause Angela's sick, right, and he takes 'em out of the box, but he doesn't tell anyone that he has oil on his fingers from his job, right? So anyway-- CHAS What kinda oil? PAT I don't know, I think he said typewriter. Yeah, typewriter oil. So anyways--two people eat the pastries, and they get--you know, like you saw--real sick and all, and then Carl comes up to me and tells me and asks if I'll take the blame since he's on parole and all this crap so just to be a nice guy I say okay. Then you guys came in. CHAS So let me get this straight--this guy, Carl, contaminates the pastries and you take the blame, just to be nice? PAT Uh--yeah, yeah--that's right. TEDDY You're nuts man--what if those people die? The elevator arrives and the doors open. PAT (exiting elevator) That's what I'm afraid of--c'mon, let's hurry and get to the meeting. INTERIOR--HALLWAY--DAY The three exit the elevator and start to walk down the hall. Soon they enter another room, where there are several people sitting around, similar to the people in the first room, apparently preparing for a meeting. A woman, MELINDA, is at the front of the room, apparently running the meeting. INTERIOR--ROOM--DAY PAT (entering room) Hiya. There's a little commotion downstairs so I figured Chas and Teddy and me would come up here for the meeting. MELINDA Well Pat you're just in time--since we're just starting the meeting now. CHAS and TEDDY looks around at the assortment of losers in the room, then sit down with PAT. MELINDA (Cont.) (gesticulating) It's about pain, isn't it? And love? We all have a collector's showcase--within us. And what is in that collector's showcase? Huh? What's in it. Is it the little glass animals of our childhood? Let's talk about it. PAT I can really, y'know, I can really agree with you there Melinda. Painful memories from the past, and love, and, well--what can I say--community! That's what it's all about. MELINDA Yes Pat! You're really on the wavelength. We have to deal with unhappiness, and the bittersweet wonder of failure. But in community the motivators combine. PAT That's, y'know, just heartbreaking, but we need to look at the positive side of it. I mean, everything that happens happens for a reason. And y'know, you can do anything if you put your mind to it. I mean, nothing's impossible. MELINDA That's the things. It's all about hope. CHAS Wait a minute--I don't it. You're saying I could do anything if I put my mind to it? MELINDA (looking a little taken aback) Well, yes. Nothing is impossible so long as you put your mind to it, and most of all, BELIEVE. CHAS Okay. Let's say I want to be in Santa Fe, New Mexico in one minute? From what you're saying, it should be possible. I don't see how. The clock is ticking. TEDDY (looking over at Chas, who's looking at his watch) I have to agree with Chas in this case. You said ANYTHING is possible. Being in Santa Fe in one minute-- CHAS --forty-nine seconds. TEDDY Forty-nine seconds--should be possible in terms of what you propose. And I'm just wondering how you propose to make this happen. MELINDA (looking at PAT) Um--well I think you should really look inside yourself, and see why you want to get away and go to Santa Fe. What is it you're running away from? Because you know what? I think if you look hard enough, you'll discover that what you're really running away from is yourself. PAT Melinda's right. If you really look at this whole Santa Fe thing, you'll discover that you really don't want to go there. I know it's painful--but looking inward and dealing with the pain of your childhood and your life and everything is really--y'know guys?--it's really essential to your spiritual development. CHAS (looking up from his watch) Time's up. I'm not in Santa Fe. There's no way I could have gotten there in one minute. TEDDY Except for teleportation. CHAS Well yeah--teleportation would have worked--but it would take me more than a minute to figure out how to do it. So I have to question the validity of your assertion. TEDDY (looking up at Melinda) Yeah--me too. MELINDA looks shocked and about to go ballistic, but she manages to control herself. MELINDA (nodding nervously) Guys--I'm feeling a lot of bad karma, and I don't like that. Let's just--get back to this topic at another time--okay? We have to move on to the meeting. CHAS Fine by me. Just be careful--we don't suffer bad philosophy lightly. TEDDY Yeah. MELINDA (sitting at a desk and looking at a piece of paper) Um--okay. Okay. Well I want to officially begin this meeting. We have a lot of negativity to work through, and I want to get started as soon as possible, but there are a few announcements to get through. Okay. First of all, the Fourth Annual Civic Responsibility Dinner is being postponed one week--Dr. Samine is stuck in Austria--some sort of customs problem. They have weird drug laws over there. Anyway, I have some really sad news to report. There was a break-in in the building last night. In total, over twenty typewriters were stolen from the basement storage area. If any of you have any information regarding this hideous violation, please let me or any of the building managers know. PAT grips the arms of his chair and looks over at CHAS and TEDDY, a stunned look on his face. BOBBY, an overweight, bearded guy at the meeting raises his hand. MELINDA Yes Bobby? BOBBY I wanted to eat some pastries downstairs, but they told me they were all smeared with typewriter oil--a poisonous substance. I was thinking there could be some connection. MELINDA is shocked and looks over at PAT. MELINDA But Pat--didn't you go out and get the pastries today? I told you tell Doris you did. PAT Well, y'know, I have to tell you-- MELINDA --I had no idea! So it's your fault those people are sick! PAT Now Melinda-- MELINDA --they ate the poisoned pastries! TEDDY You didn't know that? I thought it was obvious. MELINDA I was just walking by when I heard Pat talking to Doris. I saw the sick people after that. Now I put two and two together, and-- and-- MELINDA moves toward a payphone on the wall. PAT gets up and blocks her. MELINDA Stay away from me! You poisoned those people! You stole the typewriters! Get out of my way--I warn you--I'll sue! I'll sue your ass! PAT Melinda--you gotta believe me--I didn't do it. It was... It was... MELINDA Who was it Pat? PAT It was... it was Carl! Okay! I told him I'd keep it a secret but now with this stealing thing and everything, I just can't, y'know, I can't protect him anymore. BOBBY gets up and ambles toward PAT. BOBBY Get away from her. I'm putting you under citizen's arrest. You have a right to--urk! TEDDY sticks his foot out and trips BOBBY, who falls to the ground. CHAS stands up and puts his foot on the back of BOBBY's neck. CHAS Look lady--Pat is innocent. He told us all about it in the elevator. It's Carl who did it. Immediately, MELINDA reaches into her pocket, pulls out a canister of pepper gas spray and shoots it into PAT's face. PAT Auugh! Pepper spray! Aaagh! CHAS and TEDDY rush to PAT's side. CHAS Come on man--let's get the hell out of here! CHAS and TEDDY lead PAT, who had his hand to his face, out of the room. INTERIOR--STAIRWELL--DAY CHAS and TEDDY aid PAT as they run down the stairs. INTERIOR--MEETING ROOM--DAY TEDDY rushes in, to find DORIS crying in a chair. TEDDY and PAT are outside in the hallway. The sick people now lie motionless on the ground. TEDDY Hey--where did Carl go? DORIS They're--they're dead. It's Pat--he did it--he killed them. TEDDY (tenderly) I know you're upset lady--but we really have to find Carl--he's the one responsible for this. DORIS (looking up at Teddy) I don't know. He said he had to go over to the bus terminal to pick up a package or something. He said he'd be back. TEDDY runs back to CHAS and PAT CHAS So where is he? TEDDY She says he went to the bus terminal to pick something up--but I think he's headed out of town with the money he made from selling those typewriters on the black market. PAT (yelling) I can't see! I can't see! CHAS Snap out of it, man! It's just pepper gas for crying out loud! It does no permanent damage! PAT I'll kill that bitch! CHAS Get a hold of yourself! Do you want to clear your name or what? TEDDY We better get moving--Carl's bus could be leaving any minute! CHAS Yeah--come on Pat. Stop whining and act like a grownup for once. We'll catch him. The three walk out of the building. EXTERIOR--STREET--DAY CHAS, TEDDY, and PAT hurry down the sidewalk. Suddenly, TEDDY stops the other two. TEDDY Wait a minute--I just realized--there are eight different bus terminals in town! How do we know which one he went to? CHAS Or if he even told the truth about going to one. CARL (coughing) No--he's too stupid to make up a lie. He's at a bus terminal alright--he's probably already on a bus and halfway to paradise with his typewriter money. CHAS At this time of day? There are no good busses. No--he's still waiting--he has to be. But at which one? TEDDY I know! We can call all of 'em and have them page him. We can tell them to say someone in his family got killed or something. Then he'll come to the phone! CHAS Yeah! That's brilliant! Pat--does Carl have any family members that you know of? PAT I think he has a father. CHAS That's it! When you call, say that his father got killed. TEDDY Yeah but it has to be, I don't know--more interesting than that--so we know he'll come to the phone. CHAS Okay--say he got killed in a plane crash or something. TEDDY I don't know. Maybe he doesn't fly. CHAS Okay, okay. Lemme see. How about that plague from India? Say he got killed by that. TEDDY That's old news. CHAS Yeah. Well how about animals? They always liven things up. TEDDY Yeah! But what animal killed him? CHAS I don't know--a leopard? TEDDY Nah--too foreign. How about a--a bird of some sort? An eagle maybe? CHAS No--a human could kick an eagle's ass. TEDDY Yeah. That's true. How 'bout something like a wild boar? I hear they're tough little bastards. CHAS That's true, but remember--Carl is stupid--he may not know what a wild boar is--that's more a rich intellectual's animal. TEDDY True. I hadn't thought of that. How 'bout-- PAT --guys come on! My life is on the line and you guys are discussing the animal kingdom! Just use a lion or a bear or something! Anything! CHAS A bear! That's it! We'll say his father got killed by a bear! TEDDY Now to make the calls. INTERIOR--BUS TERMINAL--DAY An ANNOUNCER is heard over the P.A. system. ANNOUNCER Paging Carl--please pick up the white courtesy payphone--your father has been killed by a bear. CARL looks up toward the voice. CARL Crap! CARL finds the white courtesy payphone, picks it up, hears nothing, then fishes for some change in his pocket and puts it in the phone. CARL Hello? Is my dad okay? EXTERIOR--STREET--DAY TEDDY Well no--he was killed by a bear. But stay right there! We have to come over and talk to you. Stay right there! INTERIOR--BUS TERMINAL--DAY CARL What so you mean? Who is this? EXTERIOR--STREET--DAY CHAS (whispering loudly) Ask him where he's going! TEDDY We're with the National Wildlife Service. We need to know where you're going--if you don't want to rot in Federal prison that is. INTERIOR--BUS TERMINAL--DAY CARL How'd you know I was here? I think you're a goddamn liar! CARL slams down the phone. EXTERIOR--STREET--DAY TEDDY He hung up. CHAS Which one was that? TEDDY The Slim V. Effinger Memorial Bus Terminal. CHAS That's right around the corner--let's go! The three start to run down the street. PAT Gee--what a couple of geniuses you guys are. I could have told you he'd go to the nearest bus station! But no--you had to think up animals and make a bunch of stupid phone calls. CHAS and TEDDY stop suddenly and look at PAT. There's an uncomfortable pause. CHAS You know something Pat--we were just trying to help you. TEDDY Yeah--I don't like your tone. CHAS Yeah--screw you. If you're gonna insult us, go to hell. TEDDY If you're so smart, just go ahead and finish this caper yourself! PAT I... I... Suddenly a bus turns a corner and comes into view, moving toward the three. CHAS Get out of my sight! TEDDY Beat it! PAT Guy--c'mon! I can sense your negative waves but come on! I'm sorry! We all make mistakes! I was out of line--and I apologize! The phone calls were a good idea! Hey? Come on! CHAS and TEDDY stand there stoically. The bus approaches the three, and then CARL is seen in the window as the bus passes--smiling, nodding, holding up and shaking a wad of money, and giving them the middle finger. PAT Well guys--thanks for nothing. You were real helpful. If we just went there like I said, we could have caught him! CHAS (with a seething, angry look) You said nothing. Suddenly, a horrible screeching noise is heard, followed by a crashing sound. TEDDY Look! The bus just hit some sort of animal and crashed! CHAS That's not just any animal Chas--that's a bear! TEDDY And it's still alive! A glass-shattering noise is heard and the three wince. PAT The sucker's still alive! He jumped right through that windshield! No wonder I thought of a bear before--I heard about it on the radio--it escaped from that Macy's display! TEDDY (smiling) The luck of the Irish is with you today, Pat. CHAS Yeah--Carl's sitting near the rear of the bus. The bear probably won't get that far back killing passenger before he himself dies from his injuries. TEDDY Or her. CHAS Huh? TEDDY Her. It could be a girl bear. CHAS Yeah I guess. The three stand there, wincing and gawking as a horrible array of sound effects are heard. Finally a horrifying final unearthly scream is heard. CHAS (after a brief pause) Well I guess that's it. Let's just hope Carl is still alive so he can confess. TEDDY Yeah--after a scare like that he'll be putty in the hands of the police! CHAS and TEDDY laugh. Police sirens are heard, and all the people from the meetings come out onto the street. CHAS, TEDDY, and PAT approach them. They look up into the bus, and see Carl sitting there, frozen, in shock, staring ahead, still holding the wad of cash up. PAT See Melinda? I told you Carl did it! MELINDA Well what do you know! Sorry I sprayed you like that. PAT Hey, live and learn. Live and learn. TEDDY Hey Pat--since you've had so much trouble with pastries today, I suggest you try a new kind of pastry next time. PAT What kind? TEDDY Bear claws! They all laugh, and PAT slaps TEDDY on the back. FADE TO BLACK *OW* [[13017SR]] Severe Repair SEVERE REPAIR 17: "Irregular Shirt" As a Minor Occult Entity I've had to watch my step. It's all too easy to impress new friends with my powers, only to later discover that I gave a fellow supernaturaler a free peek into my set of abilities. So I try to feel people out and determine whether or not they're hiding anything. This is, the more powerful beings can usually hide their true nature without so much as a pinprick of slippage. But such is existence these days. I'm going to college now. I guess I must've gone to college a few times before, but I really can't remember. All I can say is that it seemed like a pleasant way to pass a few years. Y'know, find a cool reality, an intriguing period of history, a good campus. It would seem to be nonstop wargames, fiery sex with awesome and irresistible girls, intellectual debates, bastard drunken four day weekends, cool mysterious nightscapes, soothing train rides, dizzy walkings around, and all that. In truth, it's a pretty watered-down version of that. The folks are so young and confused and insecure. They don't know what they want to do, they're always worried about their classes. I guess I should look for a campus of vacationing Occult Entities posing as students to get what my original vision teased me with. But Thatterine College isn't so bad. Getting the college I.D. was particularly nasty here. They have computers on this world, and where you have computers you have databases. I had to do quite a little bit of work recreating myself for an official existence in the Area of Gullia Fair--that of Noaster Sitar--a name I chose from my past. But it's been two-and-a-half months so far, and I'm pretty much loving it. But I must say that I wasn't expecting to find such a high level of occult activity brewing below Thatterine's reassuring exterior. But what the hell should I expect, impersonating a teenager on an alternate world? I find myself settling into a routine here. I guess I'm emulating my roommate's behavior to a degree, since I'm not totally confident that I'm behaving in a normal manner at all times. Washington Loggats is a pleasant enough fellow, if a bit annoying. He seems fascinated with the notion of collegiate hedonism in much the way I have been. He too seems to be wondering just where the hedonists are to be found. There are certainly an interesting bunch here on Spoin Fifth. I feel quite at home with these normals. I have to wonder as to the nature of things when I find that folks with no powers barely out of their childhoods are like me in a majority of ways. How can it be that over the millennia of my existence I have not risen significantly above this level? I mean, if memory serves me, I was in college in a similarly technological world over 4,000 years ago. I try and fathom that span of time. How much memory do I really have? I mean, I can reconstruct an outline of what has happened based on key memories, but so much has either been lost or very deeply buried. I guess that I'm most comfortable with my fellow dormmates, being that they are the ones I spend the most time with. But I find an unusually high interest in occult matters among these people. How is it that out of all the colleges I could have chosen, and all the dorm floors I might have been assigned to, this college and floor are so occultishly attuned? That I cannot answer. These days I'm not so sure of what's happening. Every time I wake up I feel like I've lost a little more of myself. It was in the afternoon and I stared out the window at the autumn panorama of Thatterine. My feet were up on our refrigerator, and I loosely held a magazine in my hands. "Comin' over to the library later, Noaster?" my Washington asked. "Hmm?" I responded. "You know. That thing at the library." "Yeah. What about it." "You comin'?" "Tell me about it again." Washington was tall and thin, with somewhat greasy short black hair and a sharp face adorned with a good deal of acne. He often wore a business suit sort of get-up and carried around a briefcase. I'm not quite sure why. "Well, like I told you before, I found this like secret room or something." "Yeah. I know about that, but I mean, how could it be secret? Surely the folks there know of it. It's probably just a storage room." "No. It feels too bizarre to be normal. I mean, just standing in there, it's like being deep within the earth, in a cavern where no one's been for ages. I think there's definitely something occult about it." "Yeah well, Big Building was constructed what, only sixty or seventy years ago. You think they had supernatural catacombs in mind? I doubt it." "You know as well as I do that Evene Thatter was into all sorts of weird stuff." "Mmm." I stared out the window at some folks meandering by. I did know that Evene Thatter, the school's founder, had been into the occult to some degree. But making secret occult rooms in a library? Well, it's not just the library. Big Building is an enormous structure containing numerous school divisions. and indeed, much of the interior is wholly without windows, since the architect had a vision of a massive mound of a structure where students could spend their whole day--or even their lives--the ones that live in the dorm section of it. "I'm telling you, Noaster, you're gonna love it. I'm really on to something here. I can feel it. I think I might break through, I might finally discover something." "Yeah--just like Tanner Loblolly, huh?" "Yeah. Whatever did happen to him, anyway? No one seems to know, but they act like it's no big deal." "I don't know," I said, getting up and going over to the closet, "but he was acting all weird--saying that he'd discovered something so cool. Then he just lost it and dropped out." "Yeah but who knows--maybe he DID discover something. I should really call him soon. I know I have his home phone number somewhere around here. " As I look a light jacket out of the closet, Doug Brine walked in. "Who discovered something?" Doug asked. I noticed something odd about Doug--dark stains around his lips and on his chin. "No, I was just saying how y'know, how maybe Tanner actually did discover something really cool and that's why he dropped out." Washington said. "Maybe." Doug said, looking a little uncomfortable. "Seemed more like a nervous breakdown or something to me. But he could have discovered something, I guess." "Washington thinks he has something now." I said, putting the jacket on. "Some sort of hidden occult room in the library. Suddenly, Doug turned very pale. "What?" Washington stood up. "Yeah, it's pretty cool. It's this room--you have to really squeeze through this opening and stuff. It seems like no one has been there in ages. I get a real weird feeling there." Doug was now visibly uncomfortable--I could tell his heart was thumping away like crazy. "When did you find this room?" Doug asked. "Oh, it was this morning, after Prog. I was just sitting at a cubicle, studying for my test, and I just sort of noticed this kind of opening. It's funny, how I never noticed it before." "Was there anything in there?" Doug asked. "Not really." Washington replied. "Some kind of table and some boxes. But nothing all that interesting. It's just the FEELING of the place you gotta experience." "Uh-huh." Doug said, looking out the window. I made an effort and looked into Doug. I didn't like using my powers to peer into a person's mind, but in this case, I just had to know what was wrong with him. Instantly I saw that he, too, had found a secret room in the library, just the day before, and it was far from empty. "You ever see anything weird in that library?" I asked, trying to pry the information out of him. "Um--yeah." Doug said, leaning against the wall. "Yeah. I found someplace. A different place. Now it's really messing me up." "What do you mean?" Washington asked. "You found another secret room?" Doug nodded. "What was in it?" I asked. Doug looked at me, and I saw a scary sort of wildness in his eyes. "Well, you know Shirt University--how it was started by Thatter's friend Pobix Pabor? You know how he was looking for some kind of shirt? That's why he name it that. Well, I basically did find it. I have the Irregular Shirt. And now I have to drink ink." * * * "A YEAR?" Lemon screeched. "Please." Chamomile said, cringing and holding her finger to her ear. "There's no need to shout. You'll burst all our eardrums." "Okay! I'll be quiet! But a year! We have to hang out in here for an ENTIRE F*CKING YEAR?" Lemon said, not much quieter than before. "Okay." Chamomile said, turning to an information screen. "As you know, Kimberly only gave me an overview of Yellowhaus's systems, but from what I'm seeing here, our flight time, or whatever you want to call it, will be something like 410 days." "Great." Sulfur said. "You gave us the impression we'd be instantly transported to another world, and now this? Talk about a letdown!" "Sulfur!" Chamomile said. "Would you rather be dead like everyone else? Wake up! I don't think you've absorbed this yet--THE WORLD IS DESTROYED. EVERYONE IS DEAD." "Yeah but still, five minutes into our journey and we found out this. What's next? I mean, do we even have enough food? Oxygen? Supplies?" Sulfur said. "You underestimate Yellowhaus." Chamomile said. "All that stuff is no problem. All you guys getting along for a year--now THAT'S a problem." "Hey! We can spend some quality time together!" Canary said. "Shut up." Lemon said. Suddenly, Colonia the Sword moaned. "What's wrong Colonia?" Chamomile asked. "Oh dear--this is not good." Colonia said, looking very pale. "This is not very good at all." "What is it?" Buff asked. "I was afraid of this." Colonia said, a look of panic beginning to spread across his face. The god who granted me my humanity, Crinim--he's gone. It was his power that allowed me to assume human form. I never worried about it, huh, you know--Crinim was immortal. He was never supposed to die. Now this--" There was a loud cracking noise and Colonia jolted backwards, his hands moving to a position straight against his body, and a blank look appearing on his face. Chamomile jumped forward and grabbed Colonia before he fell backwards. But it was no good--she could feel Colonia shrinking and hardening with every passing moment. "Someone help me!" she yelled. Buff approached Chamomile. "What can I do?" he asked. Chamomile felt a sharp pain in her hands and reflexively let go of Colonia, now halfway back to being a sword, who fell to the ground will a thud. "We can't do anything." Chamomile said. "He just another casualty of O'Riley's madness." "Well--he'll still be conscious, won't he?" Sulfur asked. "I mean--he was conscious as a sword, no?" "Who knows!" Canary yelped. "I like it how he's transforming! It's cool!" "Shut up, you heartless idiot!" Buff yelled at Canary. "If it was you you wouldn't think it was cool!" "I agree with Canary." Lemon said, putting her arm around Canary's shoulder. "It's cool." "Don't listen to them." Buff said. "They're just trying to annoy us." "They're succeeding!" Sulfur quipped. At this point, Colonia was in the final stages of returning to sword-form. "Let's just hope he retains his mind." Buff said gently. The five members of Yellowhaus watched helplessly as the transformation became complete, and Colonia was a sword once again. "At least he's a nice-looking sword." Lemon commented. "You're such a monster!" Chamomile yelled at Lemon. "Why did I ever let you join this team in the first place?" "Cause I'm so cute!" Lemon said. "Yeah. That was it." Chamomile said sarcastically. They waited silently for a moment, all staring at the sword. "Should we--I don't know--pick him up?" Buff asked. No one answered. "Can he talk, do you think? As a sword?" Chamomile said. "As far as I know, from the legends," Sulfur said, "those intelligent swords and spears and stuff could only communicate if someone was holding them. You know--telepathically or something. I don't know." "Well, I guess I'll touch him and see if he can talk to me. Sound good?" Chamomile asked. "I guess it's all we can do." Buff said, sadly. Slowly, Chamomile knelt down and touched her right hand to Colonia's hilt. She had a look of intense concentration for a moment, then spoke. "He's definitely here. His thoughts are jumbled--I guess from the shock of the transformation--but he seems okay. Wait--I'm getting something--'sorry, need time to recover, give me time'." No one spoke. Chamomile closed her eyes and concentrated. "Okay." she said. "I told him we'd let him rest and recover. Let me ask him if it's okay to move him... Yes... He says it's okay. Alright. I'll put him on the counter here." With this, she gingerly took Colonia by the hilt and lifted him to the countertop, keeping him parallel to the ground at all times. When she set him down she breathed a sigh of relief. "At least he's still with us." Buff said. "Thank goodness." Chamomile said, frowning in thought, narrowing her eyes, and carefully examining Colonia. He WAS a most exquisitely-crafted weapon. She had a flash vision of the thrill of using such a sword in battle, contemplating the notion of adopting him as her primary weapon. But she pushed back these thoughts. Too selfish, she thought. "That was cool!" Canary yelped. Buff strode over to Canary and grabbed the mad dog guy, holding him up in his massive paws. "Shut up, man!" Buff boomed. "You're such a stupid jerk! I'll tear you apart!" Canary thrashed about wildly, white froth foaming out of his mouth. "Put him down!" Chamomile yelled. "We're in for a long ride! We have to learn to get along! Please Buff--you're the one I was depending on to keep the peace." Buff dropped Canary down roughly. Canary's body was limp, and he laid there with his eyes staring into nothingness and his tongue stuck out. "Oh no." Buff said quietly, stepping back. "You killed him!" Lemon yelled, pointing her pitchfork at Buff. "Oh come on!" Chamomile moaned. "He's just faking it! He always does that!" They all looked at Canary for a few more moments, then the madman burst out laughing. "You f*cking jerk." Buff said, turning away. "Okay come on people! We have to get our act together! Sulfur, Buff--come with me--we have to go down--way down--into the depths of Yellowhaus. I want to corroborate this 410 day reading. Okay? Lemon--you keep an eye on Canary. Keep him away from Colonia! I mean it!" "No sweat, chief." Lemon said, saluting. "I hope not." Chamomile said, descending a spiral staircase with Buff and Sulfur. Lemon smiled and nodded and Chamomile looked back one more time to check on things. "Man, I'm so tired." Canary said, still on the ground. "I'm gonna take a nap, wake up from this crummy dream. Grumble, grumble." Canary then curled up into a fetal position and smacked his lips a few times. "Pleasant dreams, doggy." Lemon said, a sly smile crossing her face. "And while those party poopers are gone, I have a nice little spell which might help Swordie here. What a nice devil I am--always saving the day!" Lemon then walked over to the counter, grabbed Colonia, and lifted him up before him. "Okay there fella!" Lemon said, sensing Colonia's confused thoughts. "You'll be all better in a minute--thanks to Doctor Lemon!" The devil girl set her pitchfork aside, and lifted Colonia up higher with both hands. Then she began uttering a spell in her native Infernal tongue. Almost instantly, Colonia was surrounded with a shower of jittery, multicolored sparks. Chuckling with glee, Lemon set Colonia on the ground and back away. "Lemon!" Chamomile yelled from the stairway. "What are you doing?" Lemon turned, surprised, wearing a mock-innocent, uh-oh look. "Oh hi Chamomile! I thought you were..." Chamomile did not look happy. "...uh, you know! Going downstairs with the boys, uh..." "What did you do!" Chamomile yelled, jumping forward. "Just, y'know, trying to help!" Just then, the shower of sparks grew into a spectacular storm, swirling and filling half the room. A deep, resonant, bass rumble began to rhythmically beat. Lemon back away, then turned and ran to the stairway, kneeling beside Chamomile. "I know this looks bad, but believe me--I did it with the best intentions!" the devil said. Chamomile said nothing, but watched, transfixed, as the maelstrom of sparks slowly began to coalesce. Soon Sulfur and Buff were back, running up the stairs. "What is it?" Buff yelled. Chamomile looked down and held up her hand. Then she looked back at the mystical display, where the sparks were now definitely in a human shape. "See!?" Lemon said. "I did it! I did it! I healed Colonia! I brought him back!" Chamomile looked at the devil girl, wondering whether to thank her or strangle her. She thought again of how cool it would be to have an intelligent sword, but she put that selfish though aside. "Look!" Lemon shouted. The sparks quickly died down, revealing a supine form, definitely human, but... "See?" Lemon said. "My spell worked!" Chamomile stood up and moved forward a little, to get a better view. "Wait a minute." Chamomile said under her breath. Then she moved forward a little more. "Wait a goddamn minute!" "What?" Lemon asked, trying to look innocent. The sparks and sounds were totally gone now. Canary's loud snoring could then be heard. Chamomile slowly walked forward. "Oh come on." the leader said. "Son of a bitch." Lemon got up, and started toward Colonia also. "You gotta be kidding!" Chamomile said. "What is it? What is it?" Lemon asked, walking forward. "Look for yourself!" Chamomile said. Lemon looked at Colonia, who while still unconscious, managed to turn over and face the two. "Crap." Lemon said. Colonia was now a cute devil girl, horns, fangs, voluptuous body, forked tail--the works. The former sword looked vaguely similar to her previous human manifestation--black hair, tattoo on cheek, etc. But that's pretty much where the comparisons ended. Chamomile gave Lemon a look--a look which said more than words can say. Lemon smiled innocently, revealing those dangerous fangs. "Um--at least he--uh--SHE--isn't a sword anymore!" Chamomile didn't say anything. "I didn't know! My 'grant humanity' spell always worked fine on other things! How did I know he'd decide to go and look like he could be one of my sisters?" Chamomile still didn't speak. "Oh it's not that bad! You know one of me isn't enough!" "Lemon." Chamomile said, striving to remain calm. "You should have consulted me first. Does the fact that I'm the leader of this team mean anything to you or Canary?" "Um, yeah. To me at least. I don't know about Canary." Lemon said, then in a more animated manner, "But I just couldn't wait! I had to try my spell! All I wanted to do was save the day!" Chamomile sighed. "Okay Lemon. YOU will be the one to explain to Colonia exactly what has happened to him--er--HER." "No way! Not me!" "Lemon--that's an order." Chamomile said, then turning away, "If my orders mean anything to you anymore." Lemon was silent for a moment, but then she spoke. "Oh okay. Aye aye captain. I'll do it." Chamomile looked back at Lemon. "Thank you." Lemon waited a few moments, then asked, "Why'd you come back, anyway?" "Because, I had to write down some information from the main screen. Which I guess I'll do while you explain your little stunt to Colonia--it looks like... SHE is coming to!" Colonia moaned and opened her eyes. "Dear goodness, what is this?" she said holding her hands up in front of her facing and sitting up a little. They were slender female hands with wicked sharp fingernails. "Lemon?" Chamomile said, looking over from the screen. "Oh okay!" Lemon said, kneeling down beside Colonia. "Um--Colonia? Um--there's something, I, uh, have to tell you. You know how you--well, how you turned back into a sword? Well, I mean, I know you're gonna be upset, but when, uh, when the others went downstairs, I, uh, I tried a little spell on you, you know, to bring you back to being human? Well it worked--pretty much. I mean, you're back, but, you know, the way these things go." Colonia looked down at her gorgeous female body with a puzzled expression on her face, then she stared right at Lemon. "Um," Lemon said. "I kind of cast the spell on you and you kind of, um, took on, um, some of my physical, um, characteristics." "Some?" Colonia said, in her new, sultry devil girl voice. "Well, maybe more than some. Maybe a lot." "Maybe all." Colonia said. "Hey, at least you're not a carbon copy of me!" Lemon said brightly. Colonia stared at Lemon. Lemon bit her lip. "I'm sorry. I can try and reverse the spell if you want." "No." Colonia said, easing her expression a little. "I'd rather be this than a blind, deaf, and dumb hunk of metal any day." Lemon sighed and laughed a little, and Colonia sat up. Buff and Sulfur exchanged glances, at a loss for words. "You don't know what it was like, being a sword again." Colonia said, tears welling up in her eyes. "It was the most horrible pain. I couldn't bear it. I hated being a sword! I swore to never go back! And now--and now---YOU'VE SAVED ME!" With this, Colonia embraced a shocked Lemon. "Thank you so much." Colonia said. "Uh, no problem! Glad to be of assistance!" Lemon said, sticking her tongue out at Chamomile across the room. Colonia eased her embrace and backed away from Lemon. "You really saved my life." Colonia said. Then she gave Lemon a little kiss on the lips. "I'll get used to this body." Lemon smiled and sat back. "Hear that everybody? I saved the day! Me, Lemon! I did it! What would you all do without me?" Buff and Sulfur didn't answer, but continued staring at the stunning beauty of this new Colonia, disturbing and dangerously delightful thoughts running through their minds. *OW* [[14017CN]] Contents BEGIN 01 017 CV--Cover 02 017 HR--Hemisinister Review 03 017 ZP--Zope 04 017 HT--Halfevil Times 05 017 LA--Lord of Obliviana 06 017 NH--Nihilistica 07 017 CO--Catalog of Obliviana 08 017 DY--Digital Superworld Youth 09 017 TN--209 10 017 AD--Actuality Destructor 11 017 SU--Superior 12 017 DH--Dehumidifier 13 017 SR--Severe Repair 14 017 CN--Contents END *OW* [[END017OW]] -------> ------------------- ----------- -------- -- -----