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And we're back in the past and can check the eyrie archive
once again.
Here's where you can find this and more NTB One Shots:
https://archives.eyrie.org/racc/ntb/One.Shots/
And it's the next part of The Wrath of The Administrator.
And it's the next part of The Wrath of The Administrator.
Part Thirty-Three is by Scott "Ramaj/Deft" Emery.
Part Thirty-Four is by Ken "Thing Fish" Primer.
Is it time for the trenchcoaters that go, 'WHEEE!!!'?!
And is it time for an Eagles reference?!!!
Find out in...
C L A S S I C
N E T T R E N C H C O A T B R I G A D E
A D V E N T U R E S #379
=====================
W R A T H O F T H E A D M I N I S T R A T O R
Part Twenty-One
=====================
P A R T T H I R T Y - T H R E E ------------------------------------------------
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
WHEEE!!!
Now that was just the best last thought to have. Deft looked
back over his shoulder at the worm-like mass of paper that had been
chasing him for several floors. It was pretty imposing, filling up
the corridor as it did, and there was always the possibility that it
could paper-cut him to death. He had been skating much like his life
depended on it, but the column of paper had been keeping up.
He tried again, WHEEE!!!
Nope, it missed him again. This didn't look like any of the
monsters that usually tried to kill (or recruit) Ramaj, but Deft had the
drill down pat. In short, avoid it until you could figure out how to get
rid of it. It would have been handy if Ramaj was still around, he usually
had the best ideas on getting rid of things. With his skateboard, Deft
was definitely better at avoiding. Ramaj had disappeared along with the
bar's
TV set when something happened behind Deft, just when the Krimson Avenger
was about to step into the ring. The noise on the circuit was that
He was tired of Mr. Excellent's violent rampage. That could only mean
one thing. The bar had disappeared before Deft could find out what that
thing was. It didn't have anything to do with Deft being chased by a
column of vicious forms. It had something to do with the Ramaj question.
Deft thought about what he might use on the thing to slow it
down some. He didn't have an eraser to threaten it with, or even any
whiteout. There was the lighter that he had borrowed from Ramaj at the
airport to burn out his n- WHOA!
Ol' Bart swung left and low to counteract Deft's plunge right underneath a flying desk blotter.
Deft swore off the Ren and Stimpy as a pact with whatever made
him turn around in mid-thought. The thing just might find a Zippo
lighter threatening. Deft would have to take off his gloves to get it
out of the trenchcoat. Maybe the next time he changed floors.
***********************************************************************
In a palatial 1950's kitchen a daemon wearing the rags of Donna
Reed's apron paces nervously in front of a smoking oven... out of some
other dimension comes a hand, followed by an arm... The daemon jumps...
from some presumably similar non-place comes a huge gaping MAW (whose
size and configuration sorta demand the capitalization). The daemon
drops his head and trembles, not even the most modern of conveniences
can save it now... the huge hairless paw sweeps around and gestures
toward the hideous vacuity between the fangs...
"AAH... AHHHH-AAAAH"
The daemon holds his head in despair.
"AAAAAAHHHHH"
The jaws advance.
***********************************************************************
Ramaj felt like things were getting a little out of control. He
had handled himself alright around the 'coats and noone had asked any embarrassing questions, but he wasn't used to this "white flash and you
are suddenly in an office that vaguely reminds you of personal assurance"
kind of thing. Ramaj patted around the unfamiliar trencher for his special brand, he needed to do violence to his body in order to soothe his nerves.
As his hands traveled through the natty tweed trenchcoat, quickly searching some of the multitude of pockets for his fags, he felt the happiness of
his warm Browning 9mm parabellum and was reassured. Failing to immediately
find his packet Ramaj decided to deal with the other situation at hand.
At hand were various instances of low on the food chain living,
but Ramaj didn't feel like shopping today. Picking on the nearest victim material he snatched the top paper from the out tray and gave it such a ruthless looking over that it appeared to tremble slightly. Ramaj found
himself affecting a pointless accent.
"Lad, I can see you might be doing you best here. Are you aware
of Section C article seven Reg. CWX-0940-5830?", Ramaj looked over his
glasses to punch the confusion home, but there was no need.
The milquetoast clerk was hardly prepared for a short intense middle-aged Indian speaking Chief Engineer Scots. "Umm.. ahh. that is,
NO!", he finally shouted, nervously.
"Och, no need to grind your pencil down, I'll forget all about
it if you help me with some rotten directions I ha' been ge'en", Ramaj
wondered if he might be laying it on a bit thick. He hadn't heard a real
Scots accent in a while despite all of his business in Dublin. "According
to them I proceed through that door, to the end of the hall and up two
flights to the Netromancer. However they didn't mention this office at
all. Am I on the right track?"
The dimensions of the accent didn't seem to matter to his target
who was still muddled from Ramaj's initial sally. "No no no... You want
to turn right at the end of the hall this week. The whole building
shuffles itself around for security purposes. Look", the clerk added conspiratorially... the favor of someone who had the ear of the Netro-
mancer was something to curry. He winced internally and hoped that
the unusual being before him couldn't read his mind, "if it is an
emergency why don't you take this form RTDF-9048-3348".
"Ah course, thank ye", Ramaj was sure he would have to get out
of here before his accent lept out of his mouth and choked him to death.
Ramaj retained his authoritarian bluster until he was in the empty hallway. There he carefully put it aside and took a deep breath. Then he just
as carefully put it back on, in case he had to deal with a hallway
meeting. Ramaj idly wondered what the RTDF-9048-3348 in his hands was.
***********************************************************************
For a short while the unexpected vacation had done The Kitchen
God some good. If Ramaj's place wasn't avaiable for some reason, then
that was okay. The gig he was doing was a production oriented business
and rarely gave him time for reflection or true creativity. More than
half of his clientele didn't give a, well, a damn about presentation or
any of the finer aspects of his art. Fortunately there were those that
had to have their flayed virgin in goat testicle sauce just so. despite
their otherwise replusive natures he was thankful for the challenge that
they set him. The other aspect of his job that displeased him was
dealing with his suppliers, a necessarily unsavory lot and not a refined
taste among them. He actually had to specify how old some ingredients
must be, days and hours, as they didn't seem to care. With some free
time for thought, the Kitchen God (well that seems a bit formal, let me introduce Edwynn Pigg, known to a couple of friends as, the Kitchen God.
Er, where was I...) ah, Edwynn was able to play with the basic elements
of his craft and conceive feasts that would allow a creature to forget
for a while. He knew that he only had a short time before his chain was
yanked and he and his homunculi assistants were called upon to fill
another unnameable appetite.
Then he needed a break from creating. Edwynn had no firm sense
of time, things worked out better if he just kept busy and never asked.
When someone like Ramaj would tell him "the News of the World" he would politely nod and treat it all like some magnificent fairy tale. It had
been getting easier and easier all the time as the Saxons and the
remains of the Holy Roman Empire started to describe their squabbles
as world wars. Ramaj had obviously picked up on Edwynn's disregard of
current events, because he had been dressing up stranger and stranger
tales as "News of the World" to try to provoke a reaction out of him.
Ramaj was occassionally good for an obscure reference and worth visiting despite his sense of humor. Edwynn fell to cleaning up the kitchen, a
task he normally didn't have the time to do properly.
Once the kitchen was spotless, Edwynn became concerned. Someone
was obviously preventing the minor daemons from Accessing him. He tried
to Access the void floor at Ramaj's place again, with no luck. He ran
down the short list of places that he knew to access (short because they
were also places he wouldn't mind showing up in) and failed in each
case. Ramaj had some fancy terms to describe the predicament that Edwynn
now found himself in, but he prefered to think of it as being locked
out. It wasn't too bad, he had an appointment that he was to keep and
Ramaj and Deft would be sure to be looking for him. Still, he decided
that he might want to cook a little something up...
***********************************************************************
whhee!! Deft thought, less enthusiastically.
Deft was beginning to get a little tired of this game, he needed
to find a stairwell. The for-the-sake-of-argument monster behind him had
split into two a while back and then the second one had disappeared.
Deft wondered what that was about for a while, but soon found something
else to think about. Despite the immediate threat behind him, Deft found
his mind wandering more frequently now than usual. The threat level
hadn't changed in the last... well, his Ape Sex tee definitely needed
a wash and he could use a long cool iced tea flavored drink product...
and just sorta faded out of his mind once the novelty wore off. It took
him a moment to realize that the spot coming straight at him from the
front must be the other for-the-sake-of-argument monster.
Deft brightened. Now this was a challenge... Too bad he was
tired...
Deft quickly scanned the top of the corridor, no STAIRWELL
signs. He hadn't really hoped for a Deux-ex-Machina, this was something
that he could handle himself, but it never hurts to check. As the ftsoa
monster ahead of him loomed on the horizon, Deft kicked in a little
extra speed. As Ol' Bart swung back Deft would rise up on the board
and kick rhythmically. Once he was able to launch Bart forward again
he crouched down on the board to reduce the wind resistance, the
trenchcoat wasn't really helping here. With this burst of speed he
was able to put a little extra distance between himself and the Fatsoa
behind him. Now he had to time things exactly. The Fatsoa to the fore
reared up and like its sibling behind him had done since he had been
watching it, started to strike at Deft's chest area. But Deft had
already swung Ol' Bart upward and was following with the rest of his
body. The skateboard whizzed underneath the fore Fatsoa as Deft arced
over it. Ol' Bart wasn't so lucky, Deft just hadn't put enough oompfh
in his upward swing and Ol' Bart caught the Fatsoa in the paper face. A
thunk and tearing of forms followed by an unearthly scribbling rent the
air. The Fatsoas became tangled in a mass of red tape. Deft landed on
his board and skated hard.
Around the corner Deft saw the stairwell. He heard the Fatsoas
writ of anger and decided to not bother to slow down. Just before he hit
the door he jumped the board and held it against his feet with his gloved
hand, slamming board and feet first against the push bar on the door. As
he tumbled down the stairs he heard the door latch.
Halfway down, and considerably bruised Deft took off his left
glove and stuffed it in one of his pockets. He left Ol' Bart with the
board and took out the lighter and some spare change. When he reached
the top of the stairs he saw the Fatsoas spilling down the hallway. He carefully wedged the change in the crack between the two doors, there
wasn't enough money there to hold them long, but it would have bought
a couple of hours on a downtown parking meter. He saw a Billing Notice
slip under the door and grabbed it quickly with his right hand. When it
was followed by a Statement of Intent, Deft quickly applied the lighter.
One of the Fatsoas writhed and scrawled in pain. Deft quickly reinforced
his door jam with the Billing Notice and limped painfully down the
stairs, putting on his glove and picking up his transportation.
***********************************************************************
Ramaj couldn't seem to find his smokes in the damned trenchcoat. Certainly he had earned one by now. He had been stopped four times
walking down the apparently empty hall for an urgent consultation of
one kind or another. This was beginning to test even Ramaj's ability
to bullshit vigourously. He thanked high heaven that the ability hadn't deserted him in his hour of need. He seriously began to contemplate the
wisdom of carrying a hip flask.
Ramaj was getting concerned about Deft, but he had an overriding concern on his mind, the Kitchen God. Even though it was a bit off his
beaten news track, Ramaj had heard about some of the several upheavals in
Hell and none of them sounded pleasant. He was afraid that the imprudent
denial of Access to the Kitchen God would prove to be as bad or worse.
He simply must find the Netromancer and do something. With this plan
set in jello he proceeded to examine the form RDTF-9048-3348.
Aha, the clerk had been sucking up to him tremendously! He held
in his hands a request for access to the Netromancer. Okay, now he
needed a plan...
He filled out the form in quadruplicate and spindled one copy on
a thumb-tack next to a door numbered 78394. He then stapled the upper
corners of another copy to the door using a stapler that he weaseled out
of the administrator in room 78393. He folded the third copy in thirds and slipped it under the door. He heard a chair roll back inside the office as
the occupant decided to investigate the unusual sounds. He ignored the
pleading from behind the door as he drew and quartered the final copy with
some relish. Even he flinched slightly at the scream of the truly faceless bureaucrat as the contents of the room were surplussed for later use. As
Ramaj entered the room he noticed that the number had changed to 53.
He didn't pussyfoot around. There was to be no mucking about
with some silly Scots accent here, things greater than his life were on
the line.
"Brendon Taghe, IRS.", Someone dead had shown Ramaj the trick of showing one badge so that looked like another... It had always stood by
him in an emergency, "You are Mr.Net.Romancer? I am here to give
presentation on new simplified procedures, this won't take a moment
to set up".
Even with an opening like that Ramaj was suprised that the Netro- mancer didn't object while Ramaj laid down the chalk lines and ancient
formulae he needed for the summoning. Ramaj thanked his genetic pool
(a thing he wasn't really in the habit of doing) and training for the photographic memory that enabled him to reproduce these arcane sigils
that dated from the Early Hellinstic period, revived and interpret (but,
as evidenced by the legendary status of Xeroxes, never successfully
performed) by the Heremetic Office of the Golden Copier. Ramaj supplemented
his "presentation" with a protective circle, some contact flash-paper and
a small Tesla Coil. Then he dug into his coat pocket for his Zippo to
light the incense and candles. Bloody Felching Heck! It gave him a warm
glow to be able to use this phrase in the proper context, sort of. He lent
his lighter to Deft to do god and angels only know what and never got it
back. He was poached unless he could bum a light off the Netromancer. He
smiled to himself, at least the disaster played to his strength. Only then
did he dare look up at the empty chair behind the desk.
This was beginning to look like a bad day. The Netromancer
wasn't in his office... On second thought, this was beginning to look
like a GOOD day! Ramaj put on his gloves and picked up the Coil and the
flash paper and sat down in the empty chair. He had a job to do. He saw
a pocket sized object on the desk and instinctively put it in his pocket.
He switched on the box on the desk and hoped that he could make sense of
the resultant photons. He took control of the mouse with his right hand, setting aside the Portable Tesla Coil. Suprisingly, the interface was
easy to use, just point and click! Why it took him no time at all to find
the particular code that interested him most, he sent in the restoration of access request. The whole operation was beginning to make sense. In the
new paperless Universal Office, things could get done twice as fast and
one's tracks were easier to cover. He could track down the Eye of
Abraham in a flash... but first there were the NTB's accounts... but
first there was the knowledge... Ramaj's eyes began to dull, his lips thickened with thousand yard concentration. Inside his head a spark
died. The death of that spark sent a message to the body... Its okay,
relax, you are no longer needed by this vacant brain. His entire body
relaxed and his left hand let go of the flash paper.
FOOMPFH! Ramaj tensed up and slammed the chair back against the
filing cabinets in animalistic reaction to the sudden flash. Instinctively
he dove for the Portable Tesla Coil and broadcast electronic BS into
the enviroment, hoping that would muck the Office's electronics. Without stopping to gauge the effect he burst through the Universal Office door repeating a childhood mantra about always bringing backup. Outside the
door a couple of mid-level bureaucrats looked like they wanted to talk
to him about something.
***********************************************************************
Deft had fun for a moment when he led the two fully fluffed
Fatsoa monsters (whom he had decided were named Ethel and Regular)
through a large room full of clerks. Deft decided that he could
sacrifice the knowledge of the Fatsoas exact location to his distaste
for live-action splatter movies. The fun was found in negotiating
the desks and panicked peons at close to top speed. Deft picked up
what was bound to be a hummer of a strawberry on a desk that he managed
to avoid missing. His skateboard flew off toward the other side of the
room. Deft jumped up on the desks and ran off in the general direction
of his transportation. He used Ol' Bart to menace any of the gerbils
that got in his way. Once reunited with his skateboard Deft looked back
at the Fatsoas to see that he had gained a few precious seconds on them
while they stopped to feed on the paper that littered the desks of the underlings. Not only were they feeding but he was going to have to come
up with more names than just Ethel and Regular. Many of the forms comprising the new Fatsoas had become a sickeningly suggestive shade of red. Deft
blew out the double doors on the far side at full speed.
Ahead Deft recognized a familiar shape beginning to lose a
hallway meeting.
"Ramaj, Go limp, I'll catch you!"
Deft heard the Bold Underlined Typeface of a Fatsoa on the
hunt. He didn't have much time. He needed to ask some questions.
"Gangway! NDGTDWDDB!"
Ramaj relaxed his eighty-five pound frame as best he could while knowing that he was about to be hit by a two hundred ten pound engine
going full steam. He saw the panic in the eyes of the hunting pack of
mangy bureaucrats and that felt good. He fell back in a semi-foetal
position and felt the sudden accelleration as the handle of Ol' Bart
jabbed into the back of his thigh. As his body lost the feeling of accelleration he heard Deft saying something.
"Where's nearest window? Have gun?"
Ramaj's head lolled back for a moment and regarded the sight of rotating, earthworm-like columns of sheets, forms, binders... ahh..
paper products passing through the disintegrating bodies of his
erstwhile antagonists. The ugly blood-spattered beasts had the stink
of Chaos on them. He found it hard to focus on the questions. He was
so tired, rocked gently to sleep.
"Left, past the first hallway and then right... "
Deft was sweating hard and his arms were slick. Deft's body was rejecting the idea of carrying the excess weight. He was afraid that his
arms, worn out from swinging Ol' Bart around as a counter-balance would
give out and Ramaj would be left on the corridor floor in the path of the rampaging Fatsoas.
"Okay, Ramaj, <Hoof> Crawl up my back... Piggy back stylie..."
"He's free!"
"Good! Get on my back! You weigh little more than Bart. You'll
be easier... manage up there."
Ramaj lightly grabbed Deft's trenchcoat and rolled his body over
Deft's head. Unfortunately, his arm got in Deft's eyes for a moment and
the two almost spilled. Deft recovered by dropping his body suddenly
under Ramaj, clearing the obstruction.
"Ramaj, get gun... Shoot window!"
"Deft, this is a bad idea"
"Do it"
Ramaj reached inside his 'coat and pulled out the Browning 9MM.
The safety was still on... This was not the safest of platforms and he
hated to shoot muzzy-headed, but at least Deft had a plan. Ramaj looped
a leg over one of Deft's shoulders and pulled himself up. Deft rounded
the last corner, there was Ramaj's target.
"Sorry Deft, this will be loud"
Deft saw stars and the window cracked and then shattered. He
swung Ol' Bart back as he felt Ramaj slip down. He felt Ramaj's coat
up over his left side, Good Thinking. Ol' Bart began his swing forward
and Deft jumped...
The two sailed out into the night...
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
by
emery@pioneer.arc.nasa.gov
P A R T T H I R T Y - F O U R ---------------------------------------------
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
T'Fish grogily wakes up in an unfamiliar location. He seems to be
sitting
in a huge waiting room of some sort. At one end of the room are three
windows
each manned by a bureaucrat working on reams of paperwork. At each window is
a line of immobile people who wore expressions not unlike extras from "Dawn
of the Dead".
"Whoa, well it's better than waking up in the gutter like I usually do." T'Fish says as he steadies himself against the all to familiar spin of the previous nights bender. He stumbles toward the exit and does a double take.
The room on the other side is exactly the same. He wades through the
comatose
people and goes through again. Again he finds himself in the same room.
"Hmmmm, my hallucinations usually involve giant talking cockroaches that wear lingerie. maybe the workers here can help me." T'Fish thinks as he
goes to
the head of the line.
"Hey, can you help me? I can't seem to find the exit." T'Fish asks.
"End of the line please," the clerk answers without looking up.
"But all I want to do is leave this place!" T'Fish pleads.
"Yes, that`s what everyone says...end of the line please." the clerk gestures with a finger but still does not look up at T'fishes ugly
contenance.
"Geezo, I've seen more helpful bouncers at a biker bar." T'Fish mutters
as
he goes to the end of the line.
Minutes pass and T'Fish is wondering to wonder what is going on because
the
line hasn't moved. In fact nothing in the room has moved. T'Fish taps the shoulder of the man in front of him.
"Hey buddy, is this the line to find out how to get out of here?"
*tap* *tap* the man falls over. T'Fish crouches next to him and notices that the man has been dead for some time. Apparantly rigor mortis has set him in
a standing position.
"Hmmmm well at least the line got shorter. Maybe the next person will
know."
T'fish taps the shoulder, and the man falls over.
"Hmmmm I'm beginning to detect a pattern here." T'Fish muses to himself. Thingfish pushes the man in front of him and causes him to topple over into
the
person in front whop does likewise until the whole line collapses like dominoes.
"Good now I can find a way out of here." T'Fish thinks.
He walks up to the window and notices the clerk is gone. A sign says:
CLOSED
USE NEXT WINDOW. T'Fish walks over to the next and sees that that the clerk
is mummified and covered with cobwebs. He trys the next window and is
rewarded
with a clerk that is not only alive, but cheerful too. Strangely enough
there
is no paperwork on the table. In the background a strangly familiar tune is playing.
"Excuse me...how can I get out of this place?" T'Fish asks.
The clerk smiled as a little drool runs down his chin, and says.
"You can check out anytime you want, but you can never ever leave."
Suddenly a guitar solo starts up....
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRGH! I'm stuck in the 70's!" T'fish
gasps as he starts to cry uncontrollably.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
by
ken@uxc.cso.uiuc.edu
==========
Next Week: More NTB Fun with Wrath of The Administrator Part Twenty-Two!!
==========
Arthur "Same Classic Channel. But Same Time? Probably not." Spitzer
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<div dir=3D"ltr">And we're back in the past and can check the eyrie arc= hive <br>once again.<br><br><br>Here's where you can find this and more=
NTB One Shots:<br><br><a href=3D"
https://archives.eyrie.org/racc/ntb/One.S= hots/">
https://archives.eyrie.org/racc/ntb/One.Shots/</a><br><br><br>And it= 's the next part of The Wrath of The Administrator.<br><br>And it's=
the next part of The Wrath of The Administrator.<br>Part Thirty-Three is b=
y Scott "Ramaj/Deft" Emery.<br>Part Thirty-Four is by Ken "T= hing Fish" Primer.<br><br>Is it time for the trenchcoaters that go, &#= 39;WHEEE!!!'?!<br>And is it time for an Eagles reference?!!!<br><br><br= ><br>Find out in...<br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2= =A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0C =
L A S S I C<br><br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 = =C2=A0 =C2=A0 N E T =C2=A0T R E N C H C O A T =C2=A0B R I G A D E<br><br>= =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=
=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 A D V E N T U R E S =C2=A0#379<br><b= r><br><br><br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=
=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D= =3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 W R A T =
H =C2=A0O F =C2=A0T H E =C2=A0A D M I N I S T R A T O R<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 = =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=
=A0 =C2=A0 Part Twenty-One<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2= =A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D= =3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D<br><br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 <br><br><br><br><br>=
<br> P =C2=A0A =C2=A0R =C2=A0T =C2=A0 =C2=A0T =C2=A0H =C2=A0I =C2=A0R =C2=
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-----------------------------------------------<br><br><br>----------------= ---------------------------------------------------------------<br><br>=C2=
=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 WHEEE!!!<br><br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 Now th=
at was just the best last thought to have. Deft looked<br>back over his sho= ulder at the worm-like mass of paper that had been<br>chasing him for sever=
al floors. It was pretty imposing, filling up<br>the corridor as it did, an=
d there was always the possibility that it<br>could paper-cut him to death.=
He had been skating much like his life<br>depended on it, but the column o=
f paper had been keeping up.<br><br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 He tried ag= ain, =C2=A0WHEEE!!!<br><br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 Nope, it missed him = again. This didn't look like any of the<br>monsters that usually tried =
to kill (or recruit) Ramaj, but Deft had the<br>drill down pat. In short, a= void it until you could figure out how to get<br>rid of it. It would have b= een handy if Ramaj was still around, he usually<br>had the best ideas on ge= tting rid of things. With his skateboard, Deft<br>was definitely better at = avoiding. Ramaj had disappeared along with the bar's<br>TV set when som= ething happened behind Deft, just when the Krimson Avenger<br>was about to = step into the ring. The noise on the circuit was that<br>He was tired of Mr=
. Excellent's violent rampage. That could only mean<br>one thing. The b=
ar had disappeared before Deft could find out what that<br>thing was. It di= dn't have anything to do with Deft being chased by a <br>column of vici= ous forms. It had something to do with the Ramaj question.<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0=
=C2=A0 =C2=A0 Deft thought about what he might use on the thing to slow it= <br>down some. He didn't have an eraser to threaten it with, or even an= y<br>whiteout. There was the lighter that he had borrowed from Ramaj at the= <br>airport to burn out his n- =C2=A0WHOA!<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 O= l' Bart swung left and low to counteract Deft's plunge right<br>und= erneath a flying desk blotter.<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 Deft swore of=
f the Ren and Stimpy as a pact with whatever made<br>him turn around in mid= -thought. The thing just might find a Zippo<br>lighter threatening. Deft wo= uld have to take off his gloves to get it<br>out of the trenchcoat. Maybe t=
he next time he changed floors.<br><br>************************************= ***********************************<br><br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 In a=
palatial 1950's kitchen a daemon wearing the rags of Donna<br>Reed'=
;s apron paces nervously in front of a smoking oven... out of some<br>other=
dimension comes a hand, followed by an arm... The daemon jumps...<br>from = some presumably similar non-place comes a huge gaping MAW (whose <br>size a=
nd configuration sorta demand the capitalization). The daemon<br>drops his = head and trembles, not even the most modern of conveniences<br>can save it = now... =C2=A0the huge hairless paw sweeps around and gestures<br>toward the=
hideous vacuity between the fangs...<br><br>"AAH... AHHHH-AAAAH"= <br><br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 The daemon holds his head in despair.<b= r><br>"AAAAAAHHHHH"<br><br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 The jaws a= dvance.<br><br>************************************************************= ***********<br><br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 Ramaj felt like things were = getting a little out of control. He<br>had handled himself alright around t=
he 'coats and noone had asked any<br>embarrassing questions, but he was= n't used to this "white flash and you<br>are suddenly in an office=
that vaguely reminds you of personal assurance"<br>kind of thing. Ram=
aj patted around the unfamiliar trencher for his special<br>brand, he neede=
d to do violence to his body in order to soothe his nerves.<br>As his hands=
traveled through the natty tweed trenchcoat, quickly searching<br>some of = the multitude of pockets for his fags, he felt the happiness of<br>his warm=
Browning 9mm parabellum and was reassured. Failing to immediately<br>find = his packet Ramaj decided to deal with the other situation at hand.<br>=C2=
=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0At hand were various instances of low=
on the food chain living,<br>but Ramaj didn't feel like shopping today=
. Picking on the nearest victim<br>material he snatched the top paper from = the out tray and gave it such a<br>ruthless looking over that it appeared t=
o tremble slightly. Ramaj found<br>himself affecting a pointless accent.<br= >=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0"Lad, I can see you might be=
doing you best here. Are you aware<br>of Section C article seven Reg. CWX-= 0940-5830?", Ramaj looked over his<br>glasses to punch the confusion h= ome, but there was no need.<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0The=
milquetoast clerk was hardly prepared for a short intense<br>middle-aged I= ndian speaking Chief Engineer Scots. "Umm.. ahh. that is,<br>NO!"=
, he finally shouted, nervously.<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2= =A0"Och, no need to grind your pencil down, I'll forget all about<= br>it if you help me with some rotten directions I ha' been ge'en&q= uot;, Ramaj<br>wondered if he might be laying it on a bit thick. He hadn= 9;t heard a real<br>Scots accent in a while despite all of his business in = Dublin. "According<br>to them I proceed through that door, to the end =
of the hall and up two<br>flights to the Netromancer. However they didn'=
;t mention this office at<br>all. Am I on the right track?"<br>=C2=A0 = =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0The dimensions of the accent didn't s= eem to matter to his target<br>who was still muddled from Ramaj's initi=
al sally. "No no no... You want<br>to turn right at the end of the hal=
l this week. The whole building<br>shuffles itself around for security purp= oses. Look", the clerk added<br>conspiratorially... the favor of someo=
ne who had the ear of the Netro-<br>mancer was something to curry. He wince=
d internally and hoped that<br>the unusual being before him couldn't re=
ad his mind, "if it is an<br>emergency why don't you take this for=
m RTDF-9048-3348". <br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0"=
Ah course, thank ye", Ramaj was sure he would have to get out<br>of he=
re before his accent lept out of his mouth and choked him to death.<br>Rama=
j retained his authoritarian bluster until he was in the empty hallway.<br>= There he carefully put it aside and took a deep breath. Then he just<br>as = carefully put it back on, in case he had to deal with a hallway<br>meeting.=
Ramaj idly wondered what the RTDF-9048-3348 in his hands was.<br>=C2=A0 = =C2=A0<br>*****************************************************************= ******<br><br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 For a short while the unexpected = vacation had done The Kitchen<br>God some good. If Ramaj's place wasn&#= 39;t avaiable for some reason, then<br>that was okay. The gig he was doing = was a production oriented business<br>and rarely gave him time for reflecti=
on or true creativity. More than<br>half of his clientele didn't give a=
, well, a damn about presentation or<br>any of the finer aspects of his art=
. Fortunately there were those that<br>had to have their flayed virgin in g= oat testicle sauce just so. despite<br>their otherwise replusive natures he=
was thankful for the challenge that<br>they set him. The other aspect of h=
is job that displeased him was<br>dealing with his suppliers, a necessarily=
unsavory lot and not a refined<br>taste among them. He actually had to spe= cify how old some ingredients<br>must be, days and hours, as they didn'=
t seem to care.=C2=A0 With some free<br>time for thought, the Kitchen God (= well that seems a bit formal, let me<br>introduce Edwynn Pigg, known to a c= ouple of friends as, the Kitchen God.<br>Er, where was I...) ah, Edwynn was=
able to play with the basic elements<br>of his craft and conceive feasts t= hat would allow a creature to forget<br>for a while. He knew that he only h=
ad a short time before his chain was<br>yanked and he and his homunculi ass= istants were called upon to fill<br>another unnameable appetite.<br>=C2=A0 = =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 Then he needed a break from creating. Edwynn had no fi=
rm sense<br>of time, things worked out better if he just kept busy and neve=
r asked.<br>When someone like Ramaj would tell him "the News of the Wo= rld" he would<br>politely nod and treat it all like some magnificent f= airy tale. It had<br>been getting easier and easier all the time as the Sax= ons and the<br>remains of the Holy Roman Empire started to describe their s= quabbles<br>as world wars. Ramaj had obviously picked up on Edwynn's di= sregard of<br>current events, because he had been dressing up stranger and = stranger<br>tales as "News of the World" =C2=A0to try to provoke =
a reaction out of him.<br>Ramaj was occassionally good for an obscure refer= ence and worth visiting<br>despite his sense of humor. Edwynn fell to clean= ing up the kitchen, a<br>task he normally didn't have the time to do pr= operly.<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 Once the kitchen was spotless, Edwyn=
n became concerned. Someone<br>was obviously preventing the minor daemons f= rom Accessing him. He tried<br>to Access the void floor at Ramaj's plac=
e again, with no luck. He ran<br>down the short list of places that he knew=
to access (short because they<br>were also places he wouldn't mind sho= wing up in) and failed in each<br>case. Ramaj had some fancy terms to descr= ibe the predicament that Edwynn<br>now found himself in, but he prefered to=
think of it as being locked<br>out. It wasn't too bad, he had an appoi= ntment that he was to keep and<br>Ramaj and Deft would be sure to be lookin=
g for him. Still, he decided<br>that he might want to cook a little somethi=
ng up...<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 <br>*******************************= ****************************************<br><br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0=
whhee!!=C2=A0 Deft thought, less enthusiastically.<br><br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 = =C2=A0 =C2=A0 Deft was beginning to get a little tired of this game, he nee= ded<br>to find a stairwell. The for-the-sake-of-argument monster behind him=
had<br>split into two a while back and then the second one had disappeared= .<br>Deft wondered what that was about for a while, but soon found somethin= g<br>else to think about. Despite the immediate threat behind him, Deft fou= nd<br>his mind wandering more frequently now than usual. The threat level<b= r>hadn't changed in the last... well, his Ape Sex tee definitely needed= <br>a wash and he could use a long cool iced tea flavored drink product...<= br>and just sorta faded out of his mind once the novelty wore off. It took<= br>him a moment to realize that the spot coming straight at him from the<br= >front must be the other for-the-sake-of-argument monster.<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0=
=C2=A0 =C2=A0 Deft brightened. Now this was a challenge... Too bad he was<= br>tired...<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 Deft quickly scanned the top of = the corridor, no STAIRWELL<br>signs. He hadn't really hoped for a Deux-= ex-Machina, this was something<br>that he could handle himself, but it neve=
r hurts to check. As the ftsoa<br>monster ahead of him loomed on the horizo=
n, Deft kicked in a little<br>extra speed. As Ol' Bart swung back Deft = would rise up on the board<br>and kick rhythmically. Once he was able to la= unch Bart forward again<br>he crouched down on the board to reduce the wind=
resistance, the<br>trenchcoat wasn't really helping here. With this bu= rst of speed he<br>was able to put a little extra distance between himself = and the Fatsoa<br>behind him. Now he had to time things exactly. The Fatsoa=
to the fore<br>reared up and like its sibling behind him had done since he=
had been<br>watching it, started to strike at Deft's chest area. But D= eft had<br>already swung Ol' Bart upward and was following with the res=
t of his<br>body. The skateboard whizzed underneath the fore Fatsoa as Deft=
arced<br>over it. Ol' Bart wasn't so lucky, Deft just hadn't p=
ut enough oompfh<br>in his upward swing and Ol' Bart caught the Fatsoa =
in the paper face. A<br>thunk and tearing of forms followed by an unearthly=
scribbling rent the<br>air.=C2=A0 The Fatsoas became tangled in a mass of = red tape. Deft landed on<br>his board and skated hard.<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2= =A0 =C2=A0 Around the corner Deft saw the stairwell. He heard the Fatsoas<b= r>writ of anger and decided to not bother to slow down. Just before he hit<= br>the door he jumped the board and held it against his feet with his glove= d<br>hand, slamming board and feet first against the push bar on the door. = As<br>he tumbled down the stairs he heard the door latch.<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 = =C2=A0 =C2=A0 Halfway down, and considerably bruised Deft took off his left= <br>glove and stuffed it in one of his pockets. He left Ol' Bart with t= he<br>board and took out the lighter and some spare change. When he reached= <br>the top of the stairs he saw the Fatsoas spilling down the hallway. He<= br>carefully wedged the change in the crack between the two doors, there<br= >wasn't enough money there to hold them long, but it would have bought<= br>a couple of hours on a downtown parking meter. He saw a Billing Notice<b= r>slip under the door and grabbed it quickly with his right hand. When it<b= r>was followed by a Statement of Intent, Deft quickly applied the lighter.<= br>One of the Fatsoas writhed and scrawled in pain. Deft quickly reinforced= <br>his door jam with the Billing Notice and limped painfully down the<br>s= tairs, putting on his glove and picking up his transportation.<br><br>*****= ******************************************************************<br><br>= =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 Ramaj couldn't seem to find his smokes in t=
he damned trenchcoat.<br>Certainly he had earned one by now. He had been st= opped four times<br>walking down the apparently empty hall for an urgent co= nsultation of<br>one kind or another. This was beginning to test even Ramaj= 's ability<br>to bullshit vigourously. He thanked high heaven that the = ability hadn't<br>deserted him in his hour of need. He seriously began =
to contemplate the<br>wisdom of carrying a hip flask.<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=
=A0 =C2=A0 Ramaj was getting concerned about Deft, but he had an overriding= <br>concern on his mind, the Kitchen God. Even though it was a bit off his<= br>beaten news track, Ramaj had heard about some of the several upheavals i= n<br>Hell and none of them sounded pleasant. He was afraid that the imprude= nt<br>denial of Access to the Kitchen God would prove to be as bad or worse= .<br>He simply must find the Netromancer and do something. With this plan<b= r>set in jello he proceeded to examine the form RDTF-9048-3348.<br>=C2=A0 = =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 Aha, the clerk had been sucking up to him tremendously=
! He held<br>in his hands a request for access to the Netromancer. Okay, no=
w he<br>needed a plan...<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 He filled out the f= orm in quadruplicate and spindled one copy on<br>a thumb-tack next to a doo=
r numbered 78394. He then stapled the upper<br>corners of another copy to t=
he door using a stapler that he weaseled out<br>of the administrator in roo=
m 78393. He folded the third copy in thirds and<br>slipped it under the doo=
r. He heard a chair roll back inside the office as<br>the occupant decided =
to investigate the unusual sounds. He ignored the<br>pleading from behind t=
he door as he drew and quartered the final copy with<br>some relish.=C2=A0 = Even he flinched slightly at the scream of the truly faceless<br>bureaucrat=
as the contents of the room were surplussed for later use. As<br>Ramaj ent= ered the room he noticed that the number had changed to 53.<br>=C2=A0 =C2=
=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 He didn't pussyfoot around. There was to be no muckin=
g about<br>with some silly Scots accent here, things greater than his life = were on<br>the line.<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 "Brendon Taghe, IR= S.", Someone dead had shown Ramaj the trick of<br>showing one badge so=
that looked like another... It had always stood by<br>him in an emergency,=
"You are Mr.Net.Romancer? I am here to give<br>presentation on new si= mplified procedures, this won't take a moment<br>to set up".<br>= =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 Even with an opening like that Ramaj was supris=
ed that the Netro-<br>mancer didn't object while Ramaj laid down the ch= alk lines and ancient<br>formulae he needed for the summoning. Ramaj thanke=
d his genetic pool<br>(a thing he wasn't really in the habit of doing) = and training for the<br>photographic memory that enabled him to reproduce t= hese arcane sigils<br>that dated from the Early Hellinstic period, revived = and interpret (but,<br>as evidenced by the legendary status of Xeroxes, nev=
er successfully<br>performed) by the Heremetic Office of the Golden Copier.=
Ramaj supplemented<br>his "presentation" with a protective circl=
e, some contact flash-paper and<br>a small Tesla Coil.=C2=A0 Then he dug in=
to his coat pocket for his Zippo to<br>light the incense and candles.=C2=A0=
Bloody Felching Heck! It gave him a warm<br>glow to be able to use this ph= rase in the proper context, sort of. He lent<br>his lighter to Deft to do g=
od and angels only know what and never got it<br>back. He was poached unles=
s he could bum a light off the Netromancer. He<br>smiled to himself, at lea=
st the disaster played to his strength. Only then<br>did he dare look up at=
the empty chair behind the desk.<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 This was b= eginning to look like a bad day. The Netromancer<br>wasn't in his offic= e...=C2=A0 On second thought, this was beginning to look<br>like a GOOD day=
! Ramaj put on his gloves and picked up the Coil and the<br>flash paper and=
sat down in the empty chair. He had a job to do. He saw<br>a pocket sized = object on the desk and instinctively put it in his pocket.<br>He switched o=
n the box on the desk and hoped that he could make sense of<br>the resultan=
t photons.=C2=A0 He took control of the mouse with his right hand,<br>setti=
ng aside the Portable Tesla Coil.=C2=A0 Suprisingly, the interface was<br>e= asy to use, just point and click! Why it took him no time at all to find<br= >the particular code that interested him most, he sent in the restoration o= f<br>access request. The whole operation was beginning to make sense. In th= e<br>new paperless Universal Office, things could get done twice as fast an= d<br>one's tracks were easier to cover. He could track down the Eye of<= br>Abraham in a flash... but first there were the NTB's accounts... but= <br>first there was the knowledge...=C2=A0 Ramaj's eyes began to dull, = his lips<br>thickened with thousand yard concentration. Inside his head a s= park<br>died. The death of that spark sent a message to the body... Its oka= y,<br>relax, you are no longer needed by this vacant brain. His entire body= <br>relaxed and his left hand let go of the flash paper.<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 = =C2=A0 =C2=A0 FOOMPFH! Ramaj tensed up and slammed the chair back against t= he<br>filing cabinets in animalistic reaction to the sudden flash. Instinct= ively<br>he dove for the Portable Tesla Coil and broadcast electronic BS in= to<br>the enviroment, hoping that would muck the Office's electronics. = Without<br>stopping to gauge the effect he burst through the Universal Offi=
ce door<br>repeating a childhood mantra about always bringing backup. Outsi=
de the<br>door a couple of mid-level bureaucrats looked like they wanted to=
talk<br>to him about something.<br><br>***********************************= ************************************<br><br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 Def=
t had fun for a moment when he led the two fully fluffed<br>Fatsoa monsters=
(whom he had decided were named Ethel and Regular)<br>through a large room=
full of clerks. Deft decided that he could<br>sacrifice the knowledge of t=
he Fatsoas exact location to his distaste<br>for live-action splatter movie=
s. The fun was found in negotiating<br>the desks and panicked peons at clos=
e to top speed. Deft picked up<br>what was bound to be a hummer of a strawb= erry on a desk that he managed<br>to avoid missing. His skateboard flew off=
toward the other side of the<br>room. Deft jumped up on the desks and ran = off in the general direction<br>of his transportation. He used Ol' Bart=
to menace any of the gerbils<br>that got in his way. Once reunited with hi=
s skateboard Deft looked back<br>at the Fatsoas to see that he had gained a=
few precious seconds on them<br>while they stopped to feed on the paper th=
at littered the desks of the<br>underlings. Not only were they feeding but =
he was going to have to come<br>up with more names than just Ethel and Regu= lar. Many of the forms comprising<br>the new Fatsoas had become a sickening=
ly suggestive shade of red. Deft<br>blew out the double doors on the far si=
de at full speed.<br><br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 Ahead Deft recognized =
a familiar shape beginning to lose a<br>hallway meeting. <br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 = =C2=A0 =C2=A0 "Ramaj, Go limp, I'll catch you!"<br>=C2=A0 =C2= =A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 Deft heard the Bold Underlined Typeface of a Fatsoa on th= e<br>hunt. He didn't have much time. He needed to ask some questions.<b= r>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 "Gangway! NDGTDWDDB!"<br><br>=C2=A0=
=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 Ramaj relaxed his eighty-five pound frame as best he = could while<br>knowing that he was about to be hit by a two hundred ten pou=
nd engine<br>going full steam. He saw the panic in the eyes of the hunting = pack of<br>mangy bureaucrats and that felt good. He fell back in a semi-foe= tal<br>position and felt the sudden accelleration as the handle of Ol' = Bart<br>jabbed into the back of his thigh. As his body lost the feeling of<= br>accelleration he heard Deft saying something.<br><br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=
=A0 =C2=A0 "Where's nearest window? Have gun?"<br><br>=C2=A0 = =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 Ramaj's head lolled back for a moment and regarded=
the sight of<br>rotating, earthworm-like columns of sheets, forms, binders= ... ahh..<br>paper products passing through the disintegrating bodies of hi= s<br>erstwhile antagonists. The ugly blood-spattered beasts had the stink<b= r>of Chaos on them. He found it hard to focus on the questions. He was<br>s=
o tired, rocked gently to sleep.<br><br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 "L= eft, past the first hallway and then right... "<br><br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 = =C2=A0 =C2=A0 Deft was sweating hard and his arms were slick.=C2=A0 Deft= 9;s body was<br>rejecting the idea of carrying the excess weight.=C2=A0 He = was afraid that his<br>arms, worn out from swinging Ol' Bart around as =
a counter-balance would<br>give out and Ramaj would be left on the corridor=
floor in the path of the<br>rampaging Fatsoas.<br><br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0=
=C2=A0 "Okay, Ramaj, <Hoof> Crawl up my back... Piggy back styl= ie..."<br><br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 "He's free!"<b= r><br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 "Good! Get on my back! You weigh lit= tle more than Bart.=C2=A0 You'll<br>be easier... manage up there."= <br><br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 Ramaj lightly grabbed Deft's trench= coat and rolled his body over<br>Deft's head. Unfortunately, his arm go=
t in Deft's eyes for a moment and<br>the two almost spilled. Deft recov= ered by dropping his body suddenly<br>under Ramaj, clearing the obstruction=
. <br><br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 "Ramaj, get gun... Shoot window!= "<br><br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 "Deft, this is a bad idea&qu= ot;<br><br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 "Do it"<br><br>=C2=A0 =C2=
=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 Ramaj reached inside his 'coat and pulled out the Bro= wning 9MM.<br>The safety was still on...=C2=A0 This was not the safest of p= latforms and he<br>hated to shoot muzzy-headed, but at least Deft had a pla=
n. Ramaj looped<br>a leg over one of Deft's shoulders and pulled himsel=
f up. Deft rounded<br>the last corner, there was Ramaj's target.<br><br= >=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 "Sorry Deft, this will be loud" <br>= <br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 Deft saw stars and the window cracked and t= hen shattered. He<br>swung Ol' Bart back as he felt Ramaj slip down. He=
felt Ramaj's coat<br>up over his left side, Good Thinking. Ol' Bar=
t began his swing forward<br>and Deft jumped...<br><br><br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 = =C2=A0 =C2=A0 The two sailed out into the night...<br><br>-----------------= --------------------------------------------------------------<br><br>=C2=
=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 by <a href=3D"mailto:
emery@pioneer.arc.nasa.gov">e=
mery@pioneer.arc.nasa.gov</a><br><br><br><br><br> P =C2=A0A =C2=A0R =C2=A0=
T =C2=A0 =C2=A0T =C2=A0H =C2=A0I =C2=A0R =C2=A0T =C2=A0Y =C2=A0- =C2=A0F = =C2=A0O =C2=A0U =C2=A0R<br> ---------------------------------------------<=
<br><br>----------------------------------------------------------------= ---------------<br><br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 T'Fish grogily wakes up in =
an unfamiliar location. He seems to be sitting<br>in a huge waiting room of=
some sort. At one end of the room are three windows<br>each manned by a bu= reaucrat working on reams of paperwork. At each window is<br>a line of immo= bile people =C2=A0who wore expressions not unlike extras from "Dawn<br= >of the Dead".<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0"Whoa, well it's better than w= aking up in the gutter like I usually do."<br>T'Fish says as he st= eadies himself against the all to familiar spin of the<br>previous nights b= ender. He stumbles toward the exit and does a double take.<br>The room on t=
he other side is exactly the same. He wades through the comatose<br>people = and goes through again. Again he finds himself in the same room.<br>=C2=A0 = =C2=A0"Hmmmm, my hallucinations usually involve giant talking cockroac= hes that<br>wear lingerie. maybe the workers here can help me." T'= Fish thinks as he goes to<br>the head of the line.<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0"He=
y, can you help me? I can't seem to find the exit." T'Fish ask= s.<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0"End of the line please," the clerk answers wi= thout looking up.<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0"But all I want to do is leave this = place!" T'Fish pleads.<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0"Yes, that`s what ever= yone says...end of the line please." the clerk<br>gestures with a fing=
er but still does not look up at T'fishes ugly contenance.<br>=C2=A0 = =C2=A0"Geezo, I've seen more helpful bouncers at a biker bar."=
; T'Fish mutters as<br>he goes to the end of the line.<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0= Minutes pass and T'Fish is wondering to wonder what is going on because=
the<br>line hasn't moved. In fact nothing in the room has moved. T'= ;Fish taps the<br>shoulder of the man in front of him.<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0&quo= t;Hey buddy, is this the line to find out how to get out of here?"<br>= *tap* *tap* the man falls over. T'Fish crouches next to him and notices=
that<br>the man has been dead for some time. Apparantly rigor mortis has s=
et him in =C2=A0 =C2=A0<br>a standing position.<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0"Hmmmm=
well at least the line got shorter. Maybe the next person will know."= <br>T'fish taps the shoulder, and the man falls over.<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0&= quot;Hmmmm I'm beginning to detect a pattern here." T'Fish mus=
es to himself.<br>Thingfish pushes the man in front of him and causes him t=
o topple over into the<br>person in front whop does likewise until the whol=
e line collapses like <br>dominoes. <br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0"Good now I can f= ind a way out of here." T'Fish thinks. =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 <br>= =C2=A0 =C2=A0He walks up to the window and notices the clerk is gone. A sig=
n says: CLOSED<br>USE NEXT WINDOW. T'Fish walks over to the next and se=
es that that the clerk<br>is mummified and covered with cobwebs. He trys th=
e next window and is rewarded<br>with a clerk that is not only alive, but c= heerful too. Strangely enough there<br>is no paperwork on the table. In the=
background a strangly familiar tune is<br>playing.<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0"E= xcuse me...how can I get out of this place?" T'Fish asks. <br>The = clerk smiled as a little drool runs down his chin, and says.<br>=C2=A0 =C2= =A0"You can check out anytime you want, but you can never ever leave.&= quot;<br>Suddenly a guitar solo starts up....<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0"AAAAAAA= AAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRGH! I'm stuck in the 70's!" T'f= ish<br>gasps as he starts to cry uncontrollably.<br><br>-------------------= ------------------------------------------------------------<br><br>=C2=A0 = =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 by <a href=3D"mailto:
ken@uxc.cso.uiuc.edu">
ken@uxc.cso= .uiuc.edu</a><br><br><br><br>=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D<br><br>Next Wee=
k: =C2=A0More NTB Fun with Wrath of The Administrator Part Twenty-Two!!<br>= <br>=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D<br><br>Arthur "Same Classic Channel= .=C2=A0 But Same Time?=C2=A0 Probably not." Spitzer <br><br><br><br></=
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