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|| -------- -- ----- 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 041--5/4/95 <------- || OsoaWeek || Issues || Book 4 || -------> (Cup OWis041, Created v1 (4/27/99), Copyright 1999) = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = [[BEGIN041OW]] [[01041CV]] * * * O S O A W E E K 0 4 1 * * * May 4, 1995 "The weekly ezine of Obliviana Super Occult Amusement!" by Frank Edward Nora INSIDE THIS ISSUE! More wonderfulness than you could afford, if it weren't free! Check it out... 01 041 CV--Cover !!!!!!!! An overview of the whole issue! 02 041 IW--Into E-mber Forge of Wander !!!!!!!! Another vastly entertaining Entertainment Release! 03 041 HR--Hemisinister Review !!!!!!!! "Die Hard With a Vengeance", "White Dwarf" 04 041 HT--Halfevil Times !!!!!!!! Horoscope: ie, "You are the bleak Winslow.", + MORE! 05 041 ZP--Zope !!!!!!!! GALE ZOPE 06 041 CZ--Classic Zope !!!!!!!! "Zope's Ironing Board for Teens" 07 041 TS--Trick Sojourn !!!!!!!! Song of the Week this week--a Beatles tune! 08 041 LA--Lord of Obliviana !!!!!!!! Moving day, which devastates the peace! 09 041 SU--Superior !!!!!!!! "Have the amor you crave, smocker." 10 041 IS--Into E-mber Severe Repair !!!!!!!! Your weekly dose of amazement and jollity! 11 041 SR--Severe Repair !!!!!!!! "Gnoboslast" COME NOW, BE REASONABLE--GET SUCKED INTO IT! INFORMATION: OsoaWeek041, May 4, 1995. Published weekly by Obliviana Super Occult Amusement, obliviana@aol.com, 1-800-OBLIVIANA. All contents copyright 1995 Frank Edward Nora. This release is Predatorware--you are free to make digital copies, so long as they're not altered or sold. All other forms of reproduction require permission. You're Prey unless you get a Predator Deed for this release. Contact us for more on this concept. Character count: 35116 / Line count: 1190 *OW* [[02041IF]] Into E-mber Forge of Wander [:[FOW002]:] FORGE OF WANDER E-mber 002, May 4, 1995 Here we are people--the second installment of Forge of Wander! I haven't even e-mailed the first one out yet, if you wanna know the truth. Just had to move, eh. But hopefully this one'll get out to you along with the first, and all that. I'm pretty destroyed now, mentally, so don't mind me. Just stab forth and enjoy, dammit! INFORMATION: Forge of Wander E-mber 002, May 4, 1995. Published weekly by Obliviana Super Occult Amusement, obliviana@aol.com, 1-800-OBLIVIANA. All contents copyright 1995 Frank Edward Nora. This release is Predatorware--you are free to make digital copies, so long as they're not altered or sold. All other forms of reproduction require permission. Contact us for more on this concept. You can cancel or subscribe to this E-mber anytime, via E-mail. *OW* [[03041HR]] Hemisinister Review ***MOVIES*** DIE HARD WITH A VENGEANCE I came out of this film liking it, but I had this nagging feeling that there was something very wrong about it. Something about the cinematic undertone. I got the feeling that the director had a checklist of vehicles for Bruce Willis to have adventures on, with very heavy-handed segues and plot devices linking them. It's like this film was a person at one end of a hallway filled with flames--they put a blanket over their head, and rush forward, damn the torpedoes, to the exit. They do portray a realistic sense of New York, unlike so many other films. And the New York backdrop, as opposed to the building on 1 and the airport in 2, is cool--but may account for the movie's main problem. New York is such a big and diverse place, you can't stay in one place for too long and develop an atmosphere. Samuel L. Jackson as Zeus, the funky sidekick, is excellent. The Pulp Fiction reference was great also. But the plot contrivances which got Willis and Jackson together were totally contrived. The Die Hard series has always had a cartoon-like element, used well here, also. But I don't think the plot and pacing deficiencies were deliberate. Rather, it seems that the film was constructed from elements sure to work, limited the risk of a bad movie, but also limiting the chance of a really good movie. All in all, worth seeing, but light in weight. ***TV*** WHITE DWARF 2-hour pilot FOX I guess it was X-Files that gave Fox a hard-on for sci-fi. And hey, nothing wrong with that. It's just that... that... they make shows like Sliders and... and... this--White Dwarf. What can I say? This seems like another good idea on paper that just didn't fare too well on the road to reality. Annoying and stupid, White Dwarf is a real loser. The story follows a young doctor who visits an alien world, one-half of which is always light, the other dark. The confused story deals with all manner of psychic, mystic, and mythical powers. The environs are anachronistic at varying levels--medieval, 1930s, futuristic, etc. The characters are a jumbled mix as well--immortal women, f*cking stupid looking dog aliens, bad puppet giant aliens, disturbed children, and others. And the whole thing is jumbled together terribly. Remember in 2001, the sound the monolith makes? Like an eerie chorus? Well, imagine that sound, about 50 times more grating and unbearable, and that's the sound you hear throughout most of the show. Somehow these worms in people's bodies are connected to a "sea of sorrow" or something. I almost had to turn the show off, the sound was so irritating. God only knows if there's a regular White Dwarf series waiting to assail us, but no way am I gonna watch it. At least VR5 was good, in an underground sort of way. White Dwarf is just a mess. *OW* [[04041HT]] Halfevil Times ***HALFEVIL TIMES HOROSCOPE*** Aquarius (Jan 20-Feb 18) When life gives you shadows, make shadowade. Tweak the panties of the emerald archeress. Wing it when your continent is sucked into the netherworld. A gerbil in a jester suit can do wonders to cheer up a crowded trainload of weary commuters. Pisces (Feb 19-Mar 20) Gravity shifts sideways and you find yourself zooming over the Atlantic. Formulate loser boffing. Miniaturize yourself and ride a polecat to work. Your green "Knuckles the Echidna" socks rule. Willie (Feb 29) Make C4cakes. Sleep with the itch & migraine bitch. Kick the empathy pharaoh where it counts. Do you want naked teenage girls bathing in champagne, or a good education? Aries (Mar 21-Apr 19) Lunge at steno. The walking home security store confounds both you and the authorities. Remember, DNA is a hoax. Give your personality some Halcyon. Taurus (Apr 20-May 20) Greet the menacing caltrop hurricane. You are the bleak Winslow. Mr. Competence is not with you today. Surefoot yourself. Gemini (May 21-Jun 21) Cream Jean. Locate five pine-scent refineries in your area. Smoosh the professional hockey player in your life. Die cut Marvin. Cancer (Jun 22-Jul 22) Spend the $200 for lap dances, not for Black Lotus. E-mail Rudyard Kipling's "The Joy of Nipples" to jerky billionaire Bill Gates. Coffee stain infinity. Smaug is your chaperone. Leo (Jul 23-Aug 22) Mesmerize Maureen McCormick. Jark me. Fleesterize a North Dakotan. A permanent dimension door from your apartment to The Mall of America is a top priority. Virgo (Aug 23-Sep 22) Collecting Canadiana should repel those pesky lurking phantasms. Mine tin in Aruba. Don the macrame visor. Join the Jack Frost convoy. Libra (Sep 23-Oct 23) Meditate on the mysteries of Conrad Bain. Carve an orange tree out of a cherry tree. Whatever game you play with the "Girls of Twin Peaks--Nude" playing cards, you're a winner. Martinize Hammer. Scorpio (Oct 24-Nov 21) For the benefit of Mr. Kite, get a job, buster. Mormon meerkats ridicule you in Turkmenistan. A financial opportunity will goose you. Sit next to a babe on the train and write horoscopes. Sagittarius (Nov 22-Dec 21) Be unique, make up space stories about reptilian invaders. Every day of your life is a new Eiger Sanction. Keep your Santa Claus powers to yourself. Watch the backhoe version of The Nutcracker. Capricorn (Dec 22-Jan 19) Devastate a panda. The Ripsawgirl Major Depthclub idea is a winner. Correlate for fun and profit! Architect the demise of William. ***HALFEVIL TIMES PERCEPTIONS & PONDERINGS*** EVER WONDER... ...if The Statue of Liberty has hairy legs and armpits underneath, being that she's from France? ...if Jewish coffee is called a cuppa Joel? EVER NOTICE... ...that your relatives are nuts? ...how great you feel when your friend spills cherry soda all over your brand new kitchen? *OW* [[05041ZP]] Zope ***GALE ZOPE*** ZOPE It sure is windy. MASTER JOE Yup. The old madman really has his fan on tonight. ZOPE What? MASTER JOE Oh, just a saying from Chaire. ZOPE Chaire? Oh yeah, that planet you're from. MASTER JOE That's the one. ZOPE Huh. You know, a lot of these old saying have their basis in reality. I bet there WAS an old madman with a fan making wind on Chaire. MASTER JOEWho knows? There's no way to find out at this point. ZOPE Oh yes there is. MASTER JOE What? ZOPE Dimtrav. MASTER JOE Dimtrav? Dimension travel? Isn't that the power high school losers try to get so they can beat up the guys who bully them, do the girls who ignore them, and run away to some exotic, adventurous locale to be a superhero? ZOPE Uh-huh. MASTER JOE You can do it? ZOPE Yeah, it looked it up in the Akashic Records. I got it on CD-ROM. Fits on just one. Helluva compression scheme... MASTER JOE Hold on a second--you're talking about THE Akashic Records, the... the repository of ALL the information about EVERYTHING? ZOPE That's it. It's really useful, you know? Like, I was at the arcade the other day, and I was saying to myself, you know, I must have spent billions of dollars in quarters. So I looked it up--and you know what? I've only spent about $78,480,000 on arcade games. MASTER JOE How was it on there? ZOPE Everything's on there! MASTER JOE But did you play any games SINCE you bought the CD-ROM? ZOPE It doesn't matter! The Akashic Records cover all time, all space, all dimensions. MASTER JOE So you can see the future? ZOPE Not only that--you can get video--from any angle, mind you--from any part of anybody's life. MASTER JOE Geez! ZOPE Yeah--I programmed a nice little sequence--"Sherilyn Fenn's Best Showers". It's a gas! MASTER JOE Where could you have gotten something that cool? ZOPE Ah, from some catalog. MASTER JOE But how does it... I mean, isn't that a lot of data, everything about everything? ZOPE Like I said, heck of a data compression scheme. MASTER JOE Hmm. So we could look up about the old madman right? Rather than dimtravving to him? ZOPE I guess, but dimtrav is so much more fun. Here... With a *XOING!* sound, ZOPE and MASTER JOE dimtrav to a desolate mountaintop. ZOPE He should be around here somewhere... MASTER JOE Whoah! I'm back on Chaire! ZOPE Time of the Gods, by my reckoning. MASTER JOE What!? The... the... ZOPE ...Time of the Gods. Where you've always dreamed of going. MASTER JOE How... when did I tell you about that? ZOPE I looked it up in the Akashic Records. MASTER JOE (looking up, awed) You wha... wha... wha... ZOPE What is it? ZOPE looks up to see an enormous OLD MADMAN, holding an open fold-out fan in one hand. ZOPE (in discovery) Hello! OLD MADMAN (booming) Be ye blown away! The OLD MADMAN waves his fan, and ZOPE and MASTER JOE are caught in the gale, and are carried along n the winds. MASTER JOE (seeing ZOPE in the distance) So... so it's true! ZOPE Looks that way, pal. MASTER JOE So uh... can we dimtrav back home now? ZOPE No can do, Joe dude. Gotta have solid ground under your feet to do it. MASTER JOE Darn. ZOPE Don't worry. We gotta land someday. That old freak can't keep on fanning forever. MASTER JOE What if he can? ZOPE (pulling notebook computer out of his jacket) Hold on, man--let me look it up! MASTER JOE A laptop with CD-ROM! ZOPE AND active-matrix color display! Hmm... well Joe, it says here in the Akashic records that the Old Madman CAN keep on fanning forever--if you don't take him out with an ICBM. MASTER JOE ICBM? Intercontinental ballistic missile? ZOPE Yeah. Lucky I got one, huh? Only 200 megatons though. Pity. Oh well, lemme just hit it with a little bit of enlargement ray to get it back to normal size and... THERE SHE GOES! MASTER JOE Zope, are you sure we're far enough away to... *NUKOLA!* *XOING!* MASTER JOE We're back! ZOPE Yeah--I little piece of ground hit my foot in the nuclear explosion. Lucky, huh? MASTER JOE I guess. So what happened to the Old Madman? ZOPE He's tougher than we thought. He managed to blow the foul, irradiated air all over the planet--effectively ending the Time of the Gods. And eventually, he too succumbed to the effects of deity radiation sickness. MASTER JOE So you mean... ZOPE Yes Joe--it's your fault the Time of the Gods ended. If you hadn't quoted that old saying, who knows? Chaire might still be the paradise it once was. No Vulcocksie, no nothin' bad. MASTER JOE You really know how to hurt a guy, Zope. ZOPE Aw, don't be such a pill about it. I had to wait 4-6 weeks for shipping on that Akashic Records CD-ROM, and now that I have it, you better let me have some fun with it without laying a big guilt trip! MASTER JOE *Sigh.* *OW* [[06041CZ]] Classic Zope "Zope's Ironing Board for Teens" 10/11/93 ZOPE (holding an ironing board) Check it out Weasel, my greatest TV offer ever-- WEASEL What is it, a surf board or something? ZOPE No dummy! It's "Ironing Board for Teens!" Just look... ZOPE (ironing) When you iron, it says funny things! VOICE FROM IRONING BOARD Stop burning me, assh*le! ZOPE There's razors on the side to slit your wrist or throat for suicide, common among teens! The top of the ironing board is seen, with a cap on top. ZOPE On top, unscrew the cap for booze! ...and notice the "mysterious" code number on the side... The number "90210" is seen on the side of the board. ZOPE Well Weasel, what do you think? You know all my products are brilliant but isn't this especially good? WEASEL Well, the voice thing is cool, but the razors and booze are, I dunno, a bad influence. ZOPE F*ck you--I can do what I want, assh*le. *OW* [[07041TS]] Trick Sojourn ***SONG OF THE WEEK*** The Beatles * "Savoy Truffle" (from the album "The Beatles", AKA "The White Album") [:[END]:] *OW* [[08041LA]] Lord of Obliviana Yeah. Just finished 040 last night. Man, what a toil it was! A tough one fersher. Ended up 26 days late. But I swore that every issue following it would be less late--and that I'd be back on schedule before the end of Book Four. Yo people. I'm over 220 lbs., and one 24 oz. can of Molson Ice gives me a major buzz. I gotta move tomorrow. Friday now, the Memorial or Labor Day weekend coming up. All three days I'll be moving. It's cool. All ya gotta do, see, is physically transport all your stuff from one place to another. Right? Yeah. My apartment's always been a mess. My girlfriend Kerri moved in with me about a year ago, and she's always real upset over the mess. So now, we have a solution--a 2-bedroom apartment, where one room is mine to do with what I want (ie, likely a total disaster) and the rest of the apartment is her domain. If I throw a magazine or a shirt or some collectible trading cards in the main area of the apartment, she can just toss it into my room. And that room, ladies and gentlemen, will BE the Obliviana office. Cripes! Tuesday morning! After the move! Unfamiliar train station! What a weekend. I don't know what's going on now. I said each issue of Book Four would be less late than the last, but I'm back at +26, just like last time. Moving, you know. Thing is, I just realized in the shower that I didn't say each issue would be a DAY less late, just less late. So as long as I get this issue done before 9:38 PM, I'll be okay. A cop out? Sure, but so what? I have the right to cop out now and then--I mean--I am the Lord of Obliviana, after all! Yesterday me and Kerri finished exitting our old place, dropped off the keys, and headed for our new place. The drive that ensued was one of the most amazing in my life. As we started out, a thunderstorm was beginning, and five minutes into the drive, there were grand forks of lighting stabbing forth every few seconds. On the Turnpike, it started raining so hard that I almost had to stop--for a few seconds I couldn't see at all, wipers at top speed. It continued raining hard and lightninging a lot, then when we got off at exit 8A, things began to change. There was a bright spot in the sky--and before long, the sun came out, even though it was still raining hard. Over to my left, I saw an exceedingly well-defined rainbow stretching into the heavens. I continued on, driving with the sun almost blinding me, reflecting off the slick road. As I approached our apartment, another rainbow, and cool clouds. And when we got there, the rain was all but stopped. Pretty cool trip. Very representational. As in, going from clouds and storms to sunshine and rainbows. Y'know? But right now, I'm just, I don't know. I'm wasted. I have a note here from last week--"people being real, some not"--what I was thinking about was that on my daily commute into Manhattan, where I see thousands of strangers a day, only a few, one or two, maybe, seem REAL. So the idea here would be that most "people" are actually just illusions, the true population of the earth maybe only a few hundred thousand or something. Of course, I count myself as one of the real ones. And if you're reading this, you must be one of the real ones too. Jolly good! Okay, gotta finish up here. Some f*cker next to me on the train is making unbelievable noises with chewing gum. Whattaya know. The assh*les of the world are always coming up with new tricks. I don't know man. This new marathon commute, 100 miles a day round trip, I tell ya, I don't know. 500 miles a week, 2000 miles a month, 24000 miles a year... Whatever. I wanna give this new routine a few weeks before passing final judgment on it. For now... Get all Obliviana. *OW* [[09041SU]] Superior SUPERIOR 217 Steal the soap from Marla Rainy Parking Lot at Night. SUPERIOR 218 Have the amor you crave, smocker. Spit on the of advancement trees. Yeah, a bookstore in 1985, so what? The Boeing trees. Of alive, can I say it, little combat is get there. SUPERIOR 219 Apsolute the rail choke was recycler. Ha yah, respevic and joymakmask, I did want to intrude, also want to invade. Could. For they unfret just control just know it just fourthery. Um. SUPERIOR 220 Behind you revall, the time of a good cigar. Corrode's a word. Repster, love vans. Come on, the mystique of the '70s, I was there. I was emotionally disturbed. 1976 was cool, the Freedom Train, Bicentennial, all that. 1977, Stars Wars, Close Encounters. 1978, Star Wars action figures. Yeah, I was there. SUPERIOR 221 You when we were f*cking around with each other, you were blooming, I was a stepping stone. You were blooming, but I didn't take you, right then when I should have. I didn't take you. I said it was up to you. I think it was a mistake. I should have done it. But who knows--who knows where that would have led me. If I went into you, where would I be right now, May 10, 1995, 8:31 AM? Here? Maybe not. SUPERIOR 222 Formerest the day one return. Can I destroy your resistance to coolness? We shall jolast the memorate. By it I mean, strong vision of log flume, and it I mean, shopping area as always am, I was saying, ujric. Bemore, croud and maltern. Fhemberhemb. SUPERIOR 223 Revortusion dude. Yompy the Shrew, the newest. Aha, accidental splatter of coffee on my shirt, every day you know. What the f*ck are pogs? Take me away. I want to do something, make a power for my myselfness. People are brainwashed to detest the self. F*ck that. The self is the best. If you have power. If you have rare talent. If you have greatness. SUPERIOR 224 Gifted children. Jailed by shapes gorgeous in their monstrosity. Run away, but the trail leads to being missing but alive. Goddam, people must be able to hide other people for nefarious purposes. Jeez, so many missing people, so many buildings you can't see into, so much pure evil. And here I am in Manhattan, you know how much of that sh*t's going on here? *OW* [[10041IS]] Into E-mber Severe Repair [:[SVR002]:] SEVERE REPAIR E-MBER 002, May 4, 1995 by Frank Edward Nora Hello. Lord of Obliviana here, bringing you yet another awesome chapter of the epic know as Severe Repair. This time around, we follow the strange escape route of devil girl Lemon and dream-to-reality messenger Courier Arbhay, in the masterpiece entitled "Gnoboslast". Go for it! The best thing around to read! Uh-huh! INFORMATION: Severe Repair E-mber 002, May 4, 1995. Published weekly by Obliviana Super Occult Amusement, obliviana@aol.com, 1-800-OBLIVIANA. All contents copyright 1995 Frank Edward Nora. This release is Predatorware--you are free to make digital copies, so long as they're not altered or sold. All other forms of reproduction require permission. You're Prey unless you get a Predator Deed for this release. Contact us for more on this concept. You can cancel or subscribe to this E-mber anytime, via E-mail. *OW* [[11041SR]] Severe Repair SEVERE REPAIR 41: "Gnoboslast" Courier Arbhay took the ornate letter E and frantically examined it. "What are you expecting it to do?" Lemon asked. "Teleport us outta here or something?" "I hope so..." Arbhay said distantly. "Thing is, if we don't get out of here soon, they may just drop this whole place." "What?" "Drop it. Nuke it." Arbhay said, turning his gaze to Lemon. "Call it what you will. We just better not be here when it happens." Then suddenly, it all went dark. Lemon muttered a spell, and kept on muttering even after she stopped hearing her voice, even after she stopped feeling her lips move, her vocal chords vibrate. The next thing she knew, she was on a toilet, wiping herself. It was in a public restroom sort of stall, and the door was broken. It started to swing open, and she felt a distant urge to jump up and shut it, but she didn't. As it swung all the way open, she saw a man halfway in the door, grabbing a soap dispenser. Her looked at her with wide eyes. "Whoah." he said. His eyes moved reflexively to the naked lower part of her body. She looked down at herself, and quickly realized that it was not herself, but someone else's body. "Hello." she said calmly. "Why don't you come on in. If my body pleases you so much, I might just show you more of it." The man looked wary. He was kind of short, a broad, toward ugly face, stubble, business suit. He let go of the soap dispenser and looked around outside of the door. "What is this place?" he said, stepping fully into the rest room. "I was about to ask you something similar." Lemon said. "Mind shutting the door there while I finish my business?" "Uh, no." the man said as he awkwardly stepped forward and shut the door. Since it had swung inward, he had to get close to Lemon to close it. He made an attempt to avert his eyes from her legs, belly, and pubic hair, with little success. Lemon laughed under her breath, finished up, and pulled her skirt back up. Huh. A skirt. After flushing, Lemon opened the door and stepped up to the sink, where she stared into the mirror while washing her hands. An okay body. Pale red wavy hair, hints of freckles on an interesting, woods mischief sort of face. Tan business attire. Very prim and neat. "Are you Courier Arbhay?" Lemon asked as she turned to face the man. "Uh... yes. I am." "Well I'm Lemon. Remember, the little devil girl who came outta nowhere to save you?" "I remember." he said. "What happened?" "What do you mean?" "I mean just before--you said they were gonna nuke the place. Something like that." "Guess they did." "What?" "They dropped it. They saw what you were doing and just dumped the whole thing. "That whole place?" "Yeah. It was just part of a place." She regarded Arbhay in his new unfortunate form. "Well I managed to cast a last resort spell. That's probably what saved us." "I didn't think you could be saved from that..." Arbhay said distantly. Lemon looked back into the mirror. "So here we are. Stuck in these silly human bodies." Arbhay stood beside Lemon, regarding his new face as well, rubbing it. "Always wanted to try one of these." he said. "One of what?" "Human bodies." "Hmm." she grunted in response. He looked at her. "Oughtn't we try and establish the situation parameters?" "Huh?" "Don't we need to find out what's going on?" "Nothin' stoppin' ya, deer." "I know, but..." "Damn!" Lemon said, finally managing to get the clips loose from her hair, letting it flow down. "There now, that's better." Arbhay continued to stare at the girl. "Let me try a spell." she said, and then chanted something under her breath. Her eyes glazed over and became unfocused. "Yes..." she said. "It's all clear to me now..." "What?" "I see the whole rotten thing. Oh yes." "What is it?" But Lemon continued her trance for the better part of a minute, until she finally bowed her head, coughed, and rubbed her eyes. "Hell of a story." she said. "What was it?" Arbhay said urgently. "Well. Seems that these two winners here had a problem. The guy, you, innocently tried to get some soap from the ladies room, here, being that there was none left in the little boy's room. Enter the gal, me, using the stall with the terminal door. Seems you have to close it JUST RIGHT, or the thing'll swing open at the slightest vibration. Anyway, we saw what happened--the door swings open, the guy reaches for the soap, there the gal is, exposed, tidying herself up, and the guy looks. Perfectly innocent. He rushes out, but the incident gets under her skin. Soon she's reporting the guy to her superiors, and, sensitive to such stuff, they immediately suspend the guy pending further review." "Wow." "Yes. But the guy loses it. He follows the woman home, and kills her and her family, then cuts his own throat." "Ouch." "Yeah. But I found something else out. This spell of mine prods reality into giving me the big picture of what's going on. This woman's live-in boyfriend, a research assistant at a nearby university, was going to foul up big time tonight. He was gonna use a bat from the lab to play a practical joke on his fraternity pals." "Yeah?" "Well the bat, see, carries this killer virus. It goes nuts and infects a few of the kids. Later on tomorrow, the whole city's goin' nuts. Everyone's tryin' to get out--that kills more people than the virus!" "You're seeing the future?" "I think so. And this event--this tragedy--was what prevented a huge disaster which, if things kept going like I saw, could've wiped out this entire world." "So what do we do?" "I don't know. I don't want you to kill me, I know that." "I won't." "Good." "So where did you get this information, anyway? From reality, you said?" "Yeah. It was all just--there. Very clear." "Are you sure it's accurate?" "Pretty." "Huh. Guess we have to stop this kids from doing the bat joke and stuff." "Guess." "So why don't we look around, get started?" Arbhay said. "Fine. Lead on." So they went out into a hallway and then into a bay of offices separated by divider walls. "Remind me to make something like this the centerpiece if I ever rule Hell." Lemon said. "Yeah." Arbhay said with a laugh. Then Lemon froze. "What's the matter?" "The calendar. It says 46." "So?" "So I clearly saw 45 in the vision. The 45th was the day the incident happened." "Maybe the calendar is wrong?" "No--it makes sense now. Find a clock--it's all gonna happen real soon..." "Okay, okay! There's one over here I think!" Arbhay yelled, as a bunch of workers began to take notice. "16 o'clock!" Lemon yelled. "The city will be in total mayhem a few hours from now! We gotta get out! Something like--getting money--all the money these two people have--get the next train out! Get out before the panic." "Crap." Arbhay said. "Huh?" "Crap. You know what I thinks going on? I think this is dreality." "Huh?" "Dreality--a place which is exactly one-half reality and one-half dream. I mean, look at this convoluted story you saw in a 'vision'. Half-baked... dreamlike." "So?" "So--even though stupid things happen here, it's real--so you can still die and everything." "Aw!" Lemon exclaimed. "That's a stupid idea. 'Dreality'--hah!" "I know it's stupid, but looks what's going on around us." "I don't know... I mean--you're saying that..." "I mean," Arbhay said with conviction, "that we left from Deer Express headquarters. A place where... where the space between dream and reality is traversed--I do it myself every day!" Lemon squinted her eyes at Arbhay in skepticism. "What's Deer Express all about, anyway?" Before Arbhay could answer, though, a large, balding man came up to them. "What's going on guys?" he said. Lemon regarded the man with contempt. "None of your business, I'm sure." Arbhay smiled, but held himself back from laughing. The man looked confused. "No problem." he said, looking at the two in turn. "Just wanted to let you know that Mr. Stanley is nearby." "I care nothing of you or your Mr. Stanley." Lemon said in a nasty tone. "Get away from me!" "Hey..." the guys said with a smile, laughing--as in, what are you gonna do about it, little woman? "Yah!" Lemon yelled as she hit the man in the side of his head with the back of her fist. He flew sideways and slammed into an office partition, which his momentum knocked over. This cause a chain reaction of about half-a-dozen partitions. In ten seconds, it was all over. "F*ck!" Lemon exclaimed. "I knew it! I knew that if I used my powers too much I'd start turning evil again! F*ck!" A group of workers in business suits gathered around the wreckage and looked at Lemon. She glowered at them, then turned to Arbhay. "What did you say about this place--about it not being real. Please tell me this murder I just committed wasn't real." "I..." Arbhay said. "I can't say for sure. It's just, my best guess id that we're... somewhere... BETWEEN... dream and reality." "I don't think so." Lemon said, shaking her head. "Not at all." Arbhay paused, feeling the silence all around them like a terrible pressure. "Why?" he finally said. "Let me shred." she said. She swept her arm upward in a swift motion, and it left a dark tear in the air. She stepped back from it. "Look." she said. Arbhay furrowed his brow--a lot easier to do with a human face than with a deer one. "What did you do there?" "I've fouled this place with an infernal maw." she said. "Huh?" "If we're being manipulated, whoever's doing it is gonna start to feel pretty bad." "Why?" "Because of the nature of the shred." Lemon said, staring distantly at the jagged arc of blackness in the air. "But who would be doing that?" "I don't know. All I know is, if he or she is listening--YOU FEEL THAT? THAT'S JUST ONE! I CAN DO AS MANY AS I WANT. NOW STOP THIS!" Arbhay exhaled sharply, shocked at the unearthly tone in Lemon's voice--weirded by the human vocal chords she was currently employing. Her words echoed, and all the people were looking at her in fascination. Then suddenly, the two heard a voice from behind them. "HEY!" They turned around--to see Granticaine Chug Perion standing there, holding a massive rifle. "You..." Lemon said. "You--Daptin's friend!" "I am Daptin's friend." Granticaine said, confused. Lemon squinted as she glowered at him. "You're behind this?" "Behind what, woman?" Lemon smiled. "Of course you don't recognize me. I'm in this terrific little human body for the time being. But I know you. And you know me." Granticaine raised his eyebrows as Lemon continued. "Yeah, you know me. I'm Lemon." "Lemon--THE Lemon, from Yellowhaus?" "Yup." "Interesting." "Why is it interesting?" Lemon said, regretting the tone of begging in her voice. "Because," Granticaine said, "you are in Gnoboslast." "What?" Arbhay said sharply, taking a step forward. "Gnoboslast." Granticaine repeated. "What the heck is that?" Lemon asked. "I heard that name once." Arbhay said. "In a madman's dream. He... he summoned me with an archaic version of the chant. And he kept... he kept begging me for... for this thing called... called Gnoboslast. I... I had no idea what he was talking about. Then he just... he just suddenly woke up and I never heard anything from him again. But I never reported the incident. I don't know why, I just..." Lemon walked in angry, toward kid in tantrum strides, up to Granticaine. "So what is this, huh? The world between dream and reality? Dreality, as some people call it?" she said, looking back at Arbhay. "No." Granticaine said simply. "So what is it?" Lemon said through tensed mouth, stressing each word. "It's wheverythingsusk. That's the only word that comes to mind to describe it." Granticaine said. Lemon muttered a spell, and her eyes widened in scandal. "Hah! It makes sense now!" "You make sense of this place?" Granticaine asked softly. "No idiot. I just see the outline. How powers clash. Serious infernal fires stumbling into the world of deers and dreams. That slash, that jolt, opens up something deeper." "Yes." Granticaine said, dawning. "That sounds similar to what happened to us--back in the cupslip world--when the powers of Aconck technology collided with the force of the Cup of Coffee." Lemon started to feel dizzy. "I feel like we're in some sort of dank, musty wine cellar." she said. "Silent and echoless." "I have that same feeling." Arbhay said. "Well I know something you don't." Granticaine said. "And the way leads to Butterscotch Hold." [:[END]:] *OW* [[END041OW]] -------> ------------------- ----------- -------- -- ----- |