|| -------- -- -----  A E R I E   O B L I V I A N A . singular book of text wandertainment by Frank Edward Nora ------------------- ----------- TO VIXENWAY--CUP 3--"INJURED SPARROW POSITIVE TRANSIT" <-------  ||  Severe Repair  ||  To Vixenway  ||  -------> (Cup SRtv003, Created v2 (6/7/99), Copyright 1999) = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = INJURED SPARROW POSITIVE TRANSIT That was the sign Fluffy Netherfuck saw, the sign on the big, run-down wooden structure floating above her campsite. Earlier, after driving her motorcycle through the whiteout of the blizzard for what seemed like hours of challenge, the weather finally started to clear and the goddess found herself in unfamiliar territory. Not much snow on the ground here, strange. A barren place with low, rolling hills sprinkled with jutting rocks. She was no longer on a road, but a trail. Barely a trail. After taking her new surroundings in, Fluffy decided to stop, set up camp, and rest awhile. She used a camp-in-bottle, an artifact that looked like a tiny liquor bottle with orange liquid inside. Pouring it on the ground caused a flash and a puff of smoke, revealing a newly-created camp, complete with tent, roaring fire, bathroom facilities, etc. The tent contained a bunch of useful supplies and foodstuffs--including a brand new camp-in-bottle. It was still a dull dusk, never changing, and she quickly fell asleep in a sleeping bag in the tent. She awoke to a low rumble. It was darker than it should have been in this realm of infinite twilight, Crawling to the flap opening, she looked up to see it--the huge structure hovering above her. It really was like an old wooden building, but it was big, and designed with all these little platforms and things underneath it. And the sign. INJURED SPARROW POSITIVE TRANSIT The thing was turning as it passed rapidly overhead. She looked back into the tent to see what time it was, how long she'd been sleeping. There was a digital clock in there, but from this angle, she couldn't see it. Looking back out, she saw that the thing had passed her by, and was heading off, over the hills. She sighed, squinted her eyes in concentration, and leapt up. She sprinted over to her motorcycle, got it going, and tore the ground up and she started after the bizarre UFO. It retreated at a respectable speed, but nowhere near the top speed of her bike. On a paved surface, that is. It was harder going over this rough terrain. She wailed down one hill and up another. Damn. The thing was getting farther away. And she could see now--see how massive it was. Wow. She continued down and up a few hills, nearly out of control full throttle, but she could see she was losing ground. Cursing, she reached into an inner jacket pocket and took out a drama clam. It was a little blue clam, which she raised, and then struck against the side of her bike. Instantly, the motorcycle became more... dramatic. And more bluish. The motor roared deeply between her legs, and the monster took off like a bat outta hell. She could barely control it--it took all of her god-level strength to steer the beast. She had to do this fast--the drama effect wouldn't last too long, and once it ended, so would the useful life of the motorcycle--it would soon be an inoperable, rusting hulk. But it was working. She sped up hills, leaping tens of yards before hitting ground again. The UFO loomed ever closer, and soon she was nearly upon it. But from the bike she began to hear a kind of whining hiss is the midst of the motor's majestic roar. Not much time. Still holding a handlebar with her left hand, she took her right hand and grabbed her lasso. The UFO was starting to turn, and her bike was starting to die. Plus she was headed for a big rock formation. She had one chance, one moment, to lasso the UFO. -------> ------------------- ----------- -------- -- -----