From Newsgroup: rec.arts.comics.creative

Original post: https://lists.eyrie.org/mailman3/hyperkitty/list/racc@lists.eyrie.org/message/WEWIYYAGBL6P3GEQUMHHBTK67BZLEFVM/
On Sun, Mar 2, 2025 at 3:52rC>PM Arthur Spitzer <arspitzer2@gmail.com> wrote: <snip>

Is it time for someone to tell us about the NTB whether
we want to or not?! Is it time to give the God of
Drinking a good kick?! And is it time for us to have
an unauthorized appearance by a Michael Moorcock
character?!!

GASP!!

Christ, I hate mornings. Mind you, this morning was more
a sort of afternoon, but morning is morning no matter when you wake up.

What an absolutely trenchcoaterly sentiment. X>

And
then I recognised him. And remembered the previous night. Oh god. A drinking competition with the god of wine. And the bastard had beaten me too.

I mean, *of course he did*, what did you expect from the literal god
of drinking. This is the kind of thing that'd get you turned into a
new species from hubris back in the day.

Later on, having recuperated enough to be able to think in straight lines rather than u-bends, some prat decided to jump out of a building and land in front of me. Gave me a shock, I can tell you. I can do without that sort of thing.

I'm not sure if this underwhelming response is hilarious or disturbing. X>;

This guy had thrown himself off the bridge between the library
and the science blocks, onto the road, which I was crossing in an attempt to get away from Warwick University as soon as possible. I would`ve gone, too, but there was something wrong about this suicide.
He was wearing a trenchcoat.

DUN DUN DUNNNN.

They don`t
go around together much, but you can usually count on them being mixed up- or, at any rate, being the cause of- anything weird to do with universities and computers. Especially computers. Some of these prats actually live in the net, for christ`s sake.

The past is another country.

When it comes to divination, Burroughs had the right idea, even if he was a brain dead junkie paedophile. Just toss all the stuff up in the air, add
an element of something occult, and bingo, all the pieces of paper land on the table, falling over themselves to tell you what`s going on. I used a carrier bag that a serial killer had habitually carried the severed heads of his victims in, but that`s just taste.

There's someone the writer is trying really, *really* hard to pastiche
the style of, but I don't know who. (Possibly Eddie Campbell, but this
sounds like a prose writer.)

I went over to Bacchus, who was
still snoring gently, and gave him a kick.
"Whuzzzaaat.... what was that for? zzzzzz...."
"Get up, you lazy old pisshead. We`re going to Chicago".

The viewpoint character here hasn't been named but I'm *pretty* sure
this is Wiloughby Withnail.

It had been a good month, thought Elric. He'd almost caught up on
his schoolwork, and no one had tried to kill him recently. He'd
actually managed to find something in his room. Why, it had
been over two weeks since one of his friends had been transformed into a Rampaging Demon from the Dungeon Dimensions!! Yup, mothballing that trenchcoat had been the smartest thing he had ever done.

Heeheehee

Elric leaped heroically to his feet, light gleaming from his
shining teeth. Ah-ha!! A heroic adventure! Evils to overcome, wrongs to
righ- Wait a minute. He'd retired. Hadn't he? Yes, he had most definitely retired.

Heeheehee

Elric wiped his suddenly damp forehead. How had Constantine known where to find him? Why had she chosen him? How had she gotten the computer screen to throw a snowball at him?

Heeheehee

Sometimes living in a manifestation of Chaos can be really annoying." He smiled as trenchcoat purred to him, settling over his shoulders. "But it's worth it."

Hell yeah
Drew "not really much like the Moorcock character TBH" Nilium
--- Synchronet 3.21d-Linux NewsLink 1.2