Subject: Dead II
From: [email-masked] (Bryan Slatner)
Date: 18 Feb 92 18:46:21 GMT
Newsgroups: alt.bbs.allsysop

Copyright (c) 1991, 1992 Bryan E. Slatner
All Rights Reserved
You may distribute this file at your leisure so long as the original text
remains unchanged.

Dedaparamaxxaginos Productions PRESENTS . . .

                   *  *  *  *  DEAD2.DOC  *  *  *  *

                     A Musical Drama in -V- Parts

                         The Sequel from HELL

INTRODUCTION
------------

     It's now been, oh, about two months since the release of DEAD.DOC
and the response to it has been astounding.  In all fairness,  I  must
state  that  I  was  roaring  drunk  when I wrote it.  That,  however,
doesn't mean it isn't true and that it couldn't happen.  We  all  know
it is and it could.

     I  would  like  to  thank  the   following   people   for   their
contributions:

     Imaginos,  who  sat next to me and laughed until blue in the face
while I was typing the original.  He is also the contributor  of  such
memorable  gems  as  "the  shoehorn  joke," "your little dog too," and
"fuck you, this court is in recess."

     Bluejeans and Jetski, who goaded me for the sequel.

     Ghostwheel (the person), for providing the discordian stimulation
required to write such a text file while drunk.

     Thanks to all.

P.S.

     If you want the make the story more interesting,  and keep it  in
the spirit of what it's actually written about,  you can use your word
processor to do a global find and replace;  change all occurrences  of
"George" and "Tunaman" to "Dyron," "Amg," or "Mirage."

P.S.S.

     Imaginos  contributed a GREAT DEAL to this sequel.  His influence
is evident all the way through it.

And now, on with the show.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

                               PART -I-

----------------------------------------------------------------------

A brief introduction:

     It's  a  party weekend at a local SysOp's house where everyone is
gathered to drink beer and watch a brightly dressed person  bearing  a
whip run around on the TV screen stealing taxes from evil spanish land
owners.

     Joe Blow's cousin thrice removed is at the party;  his name,  for
the sake of fiction, is George Tush.  His handle is Tunaman.

     George has vowed  revenge  for  the  unjust  prosecution  of  his
distant relative.  We shall see what happens.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

The scene:

     George  enters,  singing  (see  below).  The  house  is  a  mess.
Everyone  is  dropping  potato  chip crumbs on the carpet and spilling
beer on one another.  There are 10 people in the room,  mostly  young,
all of them looking on George with disgust.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Enter George, singing:

     I am hear to seek revenge,
     For Joe Blow's unjust death.
     I intend to do so,
     By being a real pest!

     I know that somewhere in this town
     Is a relative of SysOp!
     I'm going to log on to his board,
     And cause a major lockup!

     [ The three females in the crowd jump up and begin dancing ]

Dancers:

     He'll log on to his system,
     And cause a major lockup!
     Yes he'll log on to his system,
     And cause a major lockup!

George:

     Now most of you don't like me,
     'Cuz you think that I'm a nerd.
     But really that's not true, you see,
     I'm actually a turd!

Dancers:

     He's actually a turd, he is!
     He's actually a turd!

George:

     Well I don't like you either,
     But as long as I am here,
     I'll pretend like I'm online,
     And download all your beer!

Dancers:

     He'll pretend like he's online,
     As long as he is here,
     He'll pretend like he's online,
     And download all your beer!

----------------------------------------------------------------------

New scene:

     George  at his computer terminal.  It is a 4.77MHz IBM PC with no
disk drives using ROM BASIC.  Somewhere,  he has acquired  a  terminal
program  for ROM BASIC which he put into memory with a cassette drive.
He has found the relative of the SysOp from the original DEAD.DOC who,
oddly enough,  is also called SysOp in this document.  He  has  logged
on,  looked  at  all  the  ANSI screens at 1200 baud,  and writes some
feedback.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Dear SysOp:

     I would like access to everything  on  your  board.  All  message
conferences, all file areas (pirate ones included), all doors, and set
all my flags and give me 120 minutes a day.

     You won't regret it.  Trust me.

        Sincerely,

                Tunaman

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Dear Tunatongue, err, Tunaman:

     You have been given minimal access.  You may access  all  message
boards  and most file areas.  We don't run pirate file areas here,  so
NYAH!  You have 30 minutes a day.  Try not to be such an asshole!

     The SysOp

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Dear SysOp:

     Waaaaaaaah.

        Sincerely,

                Tunaman.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

     George  moves  on to the public message bases where he posts some
malticious statements about UART chips,  annoys the SigOp of the "Star
Trek"  discussion  base by posting a message stating,  in no uncertain
terms,  just what a putz Kirk actually  was,  and  generally  makes  a
nuisance of himself...especially, in the debate area...

----------------------------------------------------------------------

>> In a message posted on 11-7-91 Beopunk Cyberwulf writes <<

BCPW> And I'll SHOOT anyone who screams gun control in MY face.
BCPW> Anyone who screams no nukes for that matter!

Dear Beopunk Cyberwulf:

     You  blithering  liberals  make  me  sick.  All  you  ever  do is
complain!  Gun control is a GOOD THING  and  I  hope  that  it  passes
Congress.  Then I hope the nail a REALLY BIG copy on your front door.

     Sincerely,

        Tunaman

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Dear Tunabrain:

     You haven't the slightest idea  what  you're  talking  about,  so
leave me alone, you eleven year old blight on the population!

     Sincerely,

     Beo(I hope you rot in hell)punk Cyber(your little dog too!)wulf

----------------------------------------------------------------------

     George discovers ANSI codes and  posts  the  following  reply  in
flashing red.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Dear Beopunk Cyberwulf:

     Thhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbb.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

                               PART -II-

----------------------------------------------------------------------

     Upon posting the reply,  George logs off,  eats a  sandwich,  and
begins  to  wonder  why  nobody  seems  to  like him.  He decides that
everyone besides him must be an idiot.  He then  begins  to  plot  his
revenge against SysOp.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

George (singing):

     No one seems to like me,
     And I really don't know why.
     They all become so angry,
     When I post message replies!

     But none of all that matters,
     I must devise a plan,
     To format Sysop's hard drives,
     And blow up his Novell LAN!

       [ The dancers from the party sneak in through a window ]

Dancers:

     He'll blow up Sysop's LAN, he will,
     He'll blow up Sysop's LAN!
     He must devise a plan, he must,
     To blow up Sysop's LAN!

George:

     I'll fry his modem's circuits,
     With an electric tesla coil!
     His EPROMs they will all explode,
     His parity chips will boil!

     Then I'll send a power spike,
     Of at least five billion watts,
     His CPU will be so fried,
     He'll wind up going nuts!

Dancers:

     He'll send a power spike, he will,
     Of at least five billion watts!
     Sysop will not know what hit him,
     He'll wind up going nuts!

George:

     And I will watch all this with glee,
     And chuckle when I do it!
     It will fill my heart with joy,
     To watch it go KABLOOEY!

Dancers:

     KABLOOEY!  KABLOEEY!
     It will go KABLOOEY!

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Cut to:

     George in his bedroom,  trying in vain  to  manufacture  a  tesla
coil.  So far,  all he has managed to do is singe his fingers and make
his hair stand on end.  He's been working on it for  about  two  hours
now and is almost done.

     He decides to take a break and harass Sysop some more.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Dear Sysop:

     I  downloaded  a file from your file areas yesterday [duh,  where
the hell else would he get it?  Stupid little  shit.]  and  it  had  a
virus  in it!  I ran the file FUCKYOU.EXE in the .ZIP file and my hard
drive got formatted!  [HE'S LYING!  HE DOESN'T  HAVE  A  HARD  DRIVE!]
Maybe you should delete it.

     Sincerely,

        Tunaman.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Dear Tunaidiot:

     I  checked the file areas and the only FUCKYOU.EXE that exists is
one you uploaded.  The one you uploaded,  I might add,  to  sway  your
upload download ratio so you can download more.  You make me sick.

     Sysop.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

     It takes George three days to get the tesla coil working,  but he
finally does.  After making the final preparations, he disconnects the
mouthpiece  on  his phone so that only the bare wires are showing.  He
charges the tesla coil and calls Sysop's BBS number.

     Beep beep beep beep beep beep beep.  RIIIIIIIIING!

     When he hears the carrier sound, he puts the bare wires up to the
tesla coil.

     There was a terrible, ghastly silence.

     There was a terrible, ghastly noise.

     George makes his hair stand on end again.

     Far away, at Sysop's house, peripherals are melting.

     Sysop's monitor explodes.

     His RAM chips pop like Orville Redenbacher's best.

     His modem makes one final SQUEAK and goes silent.

     In short, everything goes KABLOOEY!

----------------------------------------------------------------------

                              PART -III-

                    SYSOP'S REVENGE (muahahahahaha)

----------------------------------------------------------------------

     When Sysop goes to the police and tells them about what happened,
they tell him that there is nothing they can do  about  George  unless
they have some proof.  Sysop says "fuck it" and decides to get a bunch
of  his  friends over for a "kill Tunaman party." The scene is Sysop's
living room (which, by the way,  hasn't been cleaned since the party),
the time is four past midnight.

     This is a major song and dance number, so it constitutes it's own
part.

Sysop, singing:

     This stupid little kid named George,
     Has blown up my BBS!
     We really must do something,
     To stomp his little ass!

     I appeal to all of you,
     My friends and goodly users,
     To help me nuke this little shit,
     And throw him down the sewer!

Beopunk Cyberwulf:

     We will help you never fear,
     To get rid of this pest!
     Simply show us where he lives,
     And we will do the rest!

Gelbarion:

     I will crush him with my fists,
     Because, like Arnold, I am strong!
     Then I will feed him to my dog,
     My German Shepherd, Kong!

Imaginos:

     I will pop his head right off,
     His scrawny little torso,
     Then I'll shit right down his throat,
     And rip him a new asshole!

Admiral Asshole:

     I'll bring my AK-47,
     And load it up with ammo!
     I'll cut the little dick in half,
     And use the halves as bookends!

Imaginos (speaking):

     You idiot!  That doesn't rhyme!

Admiral Asshole (speaking):

     Fuck you!  It's my part of the song!

Imaginos (speaking)

     ASSHOLE!

Admiral Asshole (speaking)

     That's my name!

Wostgheel (ending the song with an operatic-like wailing):

     Leeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeet'sssssssssss
     Juuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuusssssssssssssssssssssst
     SHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOT
     Hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiimmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm!

----------------------------------------------------------------------

     The scene ends with the BBS users  dancing  out  the  doors  like
they're going down the yellow brick road in Munchkin Land. ("We're OFF
to kill the dickhead, da da da da da da da da").

                               PART -IV-

----------------------------------------------------------------------

     The  scene is the front of George's house.  The Assembly of Death
has collected its assorted implements of  torture  and  is  ready  for
anything.

     They go up to the door.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

     Sysop knocks on the door.  There is a  brief  flittering  of  the
curtains, and it is soon obvious that someone is doing a very poor job
of concealing the fact that he's at home.

     Gelbarion  knocks  a little harder (WHAM!  WHAM!  WAAAAAAAAAAHM!)
and the lights go out.  Hmmmmmmmmmmmmm.

     Imaginos knocks still harder yet and the door breaks in half.  It
reminds Sysop of the sound his modem made.  This makes him madder.

Imaginos:

     How's that for getting your foot in the door?

Admiral Asshole:

     Shut up!  I want to kill something.

Beopunk Cyberwulf:

     It's very dark in there.

Wostgheel:

     Don't worry, I brought napalm.

Sysop:

     Now now, boys.  Let's just go in.

     The  Assembly  of  Really Really Mad People who are Out For Blood
walk  in  through  the   door.   Miraculously,   someone   finds   the
light switch.  Oddly enough, this is also when they hear the back door
slam.

Imaginos (slapping Admiral Asshole):

     Goddamit!  You let him get away!

Admiral Asshole:

     Fuck you!  You were the one who turned on the lights!

Sysop:

     Shut up and get after him!

     They run outside.  George is running so fast that he trips on  an
oak tree root and wipes out.  He falls,  face first,  to the pavement.
The Assembly of  Really  Pissed  off  People  who  Want  Tunaman  Dead
converge upon him and there is much chaos.

Beopunk Cyberwulf:

     Hello,  GEORGE!  Welcome to your coming of age  ceremony--KLINGON
STYLE, MUAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

Imaginos:

     Move out of the way, I want to break his little toes.

Admiral Asshole:

     Wait a minute, I saw him first!  Let me burn his dick off!

Gelbarion:

     Let me crush him, like Arnold would!

Wostgheel:

     Leeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeet'sssssssssss
     Juuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuusssssssssssssssssssssst
     SHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOT
     Hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiimmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm!

     There is much noise as the Assembly of Those Who Hurt People  Really
Really  Bad  for  a  Living  attacks  the  defenseless,   but  deserving,
George/Dyron/Amg/Mirage/[Asshole of your choice here].  This goes on  for
about two minutes, during which time we can hear:

      BONES CRACKING!!!!!!!!! (Crrrrrraaaaaaaaaaaaaaaacccccccck!)

               PLEAS FOR MERCY (which go unheeded)!!!!!!

                      SIRENS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Imaginos:

     Goddamit!  Who called the #$%#!!@ cops?

Admiral Asshole:

     I told you to be quiet!

Imaginos:

     I can't help it if he screams louder than Metallica!

Beopunk Cyberwulf:

     Don't insult my heroes!

Gelbarion:

     We should have cut out his voice box.

Wostgheel:

     Giiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiivvvvvvvvvvvvvvveeeeeeeee!
     Meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!
     Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa
     Kniiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiife!

Imaginos (to Wostgheel):

     Will  you  stop  that horrid operatic-like wailing?!?!?  You were
supposed to get that out of your system three scenes ago!

     The cops appear, in force, bearing guns,  even though they aren't
NEARLY as heavily armed as Our Heroes.

Sysop, trying to hide the bloody but not yet dead body of Tunaman:

     Hello, officers!  What can we do for you?

Officer #1:

     You're under arrest.

Gelbarion:

     But, kind sir, we are but poor vigilantes who, trying to act like
Arnold, are helping to rid the world of foul, computer-killing vermin,
like this guy here (points to George's body).

Admiral Asshole:

     Will SOMEONE please tape his incriminating mouth SHUT?!?!

Officer #2:

     Please put your hands over your head.

Imaginos:

     I SEE BATS!

Officer #1 (getting noticeably nervous):

     Please  put  your military-like armament DOWN and get against the
wall and spread 'em!

Imaginos (rapidly running his hands over his chest, like he's trying
          to get something slimy off):

     SNAKES!!!!!!!  SNAKES!!!!!!  SNAKES!!!!!!  Where's  my  medicine!
I need my medicine! (Looking at Officer #1) Did YOU bring my medicine?

Sysop:

     We're doomed.

Beopunk Cyberwulf (to Officer #2):

     Sorry about your family...TOMORROW!

     After a WHOLE lot of trouble,  the ambulance takes George away to
Shands (after using a crowbar to pry his modem out of his asshole) and
the Assembly of Rather Humbled Modem Users Now That Their Weapons Have
Been Taken are carted off to the big house.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

                               PART -V-

                             THE COURTROOM

----------------------------------------------------------------------

     In an UNBELIEVABLE twist of fate, Our Heroes, and George (who has
not  yet  fully recovered from the beating he took just ONE SCENE ago.
George looks a great deal like  Captain  Pike  sitting  in  his  wheel
chair)  are  sitting in the SAME COURTROOM that Joe Blow and the OTHER
Sysop sat (you remember,  the one who died in the electric  chair)  in
during their experience with the American legal system.  Fate has ALSO
seen  fit  to provide Our Heroes with THE SAME JUDGE that Joe Blow and
the other Sysop had.  Life  is  weird  some  times,  but  it  has  its
dramatic effects.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Enter Judge T. Harold Stone (no relation), singing:

     Now listen up you idiots,
     I'm having a bad day!
     And I want to get this over with,
     So my golf game I can play!

[ Where did they come from??? Who knows, but HERE COME THE DANCERS! ]

Dancers:

     He wants to play some golf, he does,
     He wants to play today!
     Let's all get this over with,
     He's having a bad day!

Judge:

     You all know what the charge is,
     So let's not have any shit,
     Does the prosecution wish to start?
     Well, let's get on with it!

Prosecutor:

     The state will prove, your honor,
     That the Assemb-ah-ly of Death,
     Did willfully attack George Tush,
     Armed with more than just bad breath!

           [ Admiral Asshole breathes on a fern and it dies ]

Defense:

     We object your honor, sir,
     To these awful fabrications,
     That my clients have bad breath,
     When involved in altercations.

Judge:

     Would you please hurry up, you goons,
     That we might leave some time today?
     I have to urinate, you see,
     In a very very bad way!

Prosecutor:

     I call George Tush, your honor, sir,
     To take the witness stand,
     Bear in mind he can't speak well,
     Or raise his maimed right hand.

Judge:

     Okay!  Okay!  Just question him,
     Let's get this over with!
     If we could stop this silly song...

      [ The music fades and the judge begins speaking normally ]

We might be able to get out of here some time this century!!!

Prosecutor:

     George,  could  you please tell us what happened when the defendants
beat the shit out of you on May 22nd, 1992?

George:

     Thertainly [ he says through thwollen,  err,  swollen lips  ].  They
came to my houthe and broke down the door with Imaginoth'th foot.

Prosecutor:

     Your honor,  we would like to enter into evidence,  a picture of the
foot in question.

Judge:

     Okay,  okay!  Let me see it.  [ Bailiff, who, oddly enough, is named
Rusty but has no relation to the Rusty on the People's Court,  hands  the
Judge a picture of Imaginos's foot].

     Jesus Christ!  That's disgusting!

Imaginos:

     Would you like to SMELL IT?  [ He takes off his shoe ].

Everyone in court room:

     OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHH!  That's GROOOOOOOOOOOOOOSSSSS!

Judge:

     Put that shoe back on or I'll hold you in contempt.

Imaginos:

     I have nothing but contempt for this court.

Sysop:

     We're doomed.

Judge:

     Order!  Order!  [ He slams his gavel ] Goddamit!  You made me  smash
my  Life  Savers!  [ He takes a bottle of Chivas Regal out from under the
bench and drains half of it ]

Prosecutor:

     After they broke down your door, what did you do?

George:

     I ran!  What elthe could I do?  They heard me  go  out  the  back
door  and  they chathed me.  Then thomeone,  I think it was Gelbarion,
shoved a modem up my athhole.  It wathn't very pleathant,  let me tell
you.  I've since had to buy stock in Preperation H.

     Then  they  just  beat  the  shit  out  of  me  and my brain went
KABLOOEY!

Prosecutor:

     The State rests, your honor.

Judge:

     Thank God.  Does the defense have anything to present to this  court
before I send all of you to hell?

Defense:

     Yes, your honor, we do.  I would like to present Exhibit B.  A tesla
coil,  which we intend to prove was used by George Tush,  aka Tunaman, to
destroy Sysop's $10,000 home computer and all of its data.

Prosecution:

     Objection!

Judge:

     Go to hell.

Sysop:

     We're doomed.

Beopunk Cyberwulf:

     Someone slap him!  He's starting to sound like a broken record!

Imaginos:

     This record skips.  This  record  skips.  This  record  skips.  This
record skips.  This record skips.  This record skips.  This record skips.
This record skips.

Judge (slamming gavel):

     Shut up!  Jesus, there go my cough drops!

Defense:

     I call Imaginos to the stand, your honor.

Sysop:

     We're doomed.

Gelbarion (slapping Sysop):

     SHUT UP!  We KNOW already!

Judge:

     I'm in hell.

     Imaginos  gets  up  [  he has put his shoe back on,  thank God ] and
takes the stand.

Defense:

     Did you beat up George Tush?

Imaginos:

     No.  I only knocked on the door.  It  must  have  been  some  pretty
faulty workmanship because it fell in and cracked in two.

Defense:

     I  see.  Now,  if  you  had  hit the door as hard as the prosecution
would like us to believe, your foot would have been injured.  Was it?

Imaginos:

     No.  I usually break bricks with my  head.  Would  you  like  me  to
demonstrate? [ He eyes George ].

Judge:

     Bailiff!!!  Wack his pee pee!

Imaginos:

     OOOOOOOOWWWWWWWWWWWW!

Gelbarion:

     You must whack HARDER! Like Arnold would!

Judge:

     AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHH!

Imaginos:

     OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOWWWWWWWWWW!

Gelbarion:

     Better.

Judge:

     AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHH!

Defense:

     No further questions.

Judge:

     Would you like to cross examine.

Prosecutor:

     NOT!

Defense:

     Your honor, we would like to call Sysop to the stand.

Judge:

     Whatever you want.  Leave me out of it.

     Sysop  takes the stand.  Our Heroes all cheer.  George Tush wets his
pants.  Good thing his injuries have forced him  to  also  buy  stock  in
Depends  Undergarments  (his pee pee was whacked rather hard with Arnold-
like force).

Defense:

     Mr.  Sysop.  You claim that your BBS system fell prey  to  the  evil
workings of George Tush and a tesla coil.

Sysop:

     Yes, he was seeking revenge for the death of his buddy Joe Blow.

Judge:

     Joe Blow?  The same Joe Blow that was in my court room not more than
a year ago?

Sysop:

     The same, your honor.

Judge:

     AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHH!  [  He  finishes his
bottle of Chivas ]

Defense:

     Continue, Mr. Sysop.

Sysop:

     Well,  from what I can piece together,  George built a  tesla  coil,
called  my  BBS,  and  held it up to the phone line.  Which caused my RAM
chips to pop like popcorn and my peripherals to melt.

Defense:

     Your honor,  I would like to show the  court  George  Tush's  SINGED
FINGERS as evidence of this heinous crime!

Wostgheel:

     Are you sure that's not from the Nepalm?

Imaginos:

     Shut up!

Judge:

     AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHH!

Imaginos:

     This  record  skips!  This  record  skips!  This record skips!  This
record skips!  This record skips!  This record skips!  This record skips!
This record skips!

Admiral Asshole:

     WILL YOU BE QUIET!?!!?!?

Defense:

     How much damage did this cause to your computer system, Mr. Sysop?

Sysop:

     About ten grand.  I put my SOUL into that system,  like most  people
do!  We Sysops are a strange breed.  We do everything for our users,  and
little shits like George exploit us...

                         [ He breaks into song ]

     I run my BBS, you see,
     So other people benefit,
     But some folks like George Tush, you see,
     Take advantage of it.

     Download all day long, they do,
     And never ever upload,
     And when they DO write messages,
     My modem seems to overload!

             [ Enter dancers.  This is getting ridiculous. ]

Dancers:

     His modem overloads, it does!
     His modem overloads!
     People like George post garbage,
     And his modem overloads!

Sysop:

     I don't get any thanks, you see,
     And sometimes I'm depressed,
     That my download areas,
     Don't get any rest.

     I believe that information's free,
     And communication too.
     I run my system free of charge, [ he looks at George ]
     But not for punks like you!

Judge:

     STOP SINGING!  AGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

Imaginos:

     This record skips!  This record skips!  This record  skips!  This
record  skips!  This  record  skips!  This  record skips!  This record
skips!  This record skips!

Judge:

     Bailiff!

Imaginos:

     OWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!

Sysop:

     Now why can I get any thanks,
     I really want to know!
     I put my heart into my work,
     And all HE does is download!

Dancers:

     He puts his heart into his work,
     And all HE does it download!

Wostgheel:

     Leeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeet'sssssssssss
     Juuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuusssssssssssssssssssssst
     SHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOT
     Hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiimmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm!

                            [ The song ends ]

Judge:

     AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHH!

     I've had enough!!!  I quit!  [ He looks at Our Heroes ] All  of  you
are innocent.  Free to go!  Just get out of here!

     [ He looks at George ]

     You're an asshole.  I sentence you to death.  I hope it's painful.

Wostgheel:

     Leeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeet'sssssssssss
     Juuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuusssssssssssssssssssssst
     SHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOT
     Hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiimmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm!

Judge:

     You're  right.  [  He  pulls  an  Uzi from under the bench and blows
George away ] Jesus that felt good.  I feel like a new person!  Bailiff!

Imaginos:

     OWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!

Judge:

     Bailiff!  Get  these  people  out  of  here  and then arrange for my
IMMEDIATE transportation to the Alan  Parsons  Institute!  I  QUIT!  I've
had  enough!  For  thirty  years  I've  been  doing  this and I'm sick of
it!!!!!  AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

Imaginos:

     This  record  skips!  This  record  skips!  This record skips!  This
record skips!  This record skips!  This record skips!  This record skips!
This record skips!

Judge:

     AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

Imaginos:

     This record skips!  This record skips!  This record  skips!  This
record  skips!  This  record  skips!  This  record skips!  This record
skips!  This record skips!

Judge:

     AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

     Fade out and  cut  to  and  aspirin  commercial.  Then,  cut  to  an
overview  of  the  courtroom.  Everyone  is gone,  except for the body of
George Tush, aka Tunaman.  The background music should be very serene, as
if this tragedy could have been avoided.  It could have been avoided  and
we  all  know  that!  DON'T  ALLOW  NINE YEAR OLDS ON YOUR BBS's!  Or ANY
asshole for that matter!  You SEE what could happen.

     The scene fades to black and we see some of  that  goofy  text  that
explains  what happens to each of the characters after the movie when the
movie has become so long that they don't have TIME to show what  actually
happens.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

     The  Sysop  managed  to  collect another computer from his insurance
company and never EVER let another nine-year-old on his BBS.

     Imaginos had foot surgery and a lobotomy to keep from  skipping  all
the  time.  He  was  later  eaten by white cannibals on an island off the
coast of Africa.

     Wostgheel became a terrorist and went to Nicaragua with  his  napalm
and a machine gun.  As far as we know, he is still alive and causing much
chaos.

     Gelbarion  when  to  Austria  to  study at the Arnold Schwarzenegger
School of Looking German and Being Tough.

     Beopunk Cyberwulf went on to blow up Harvard Law School because they
"were being silly."

     Admiral Asshole still is and always will be.

     The authors went on to nurse their hangovers and went  on  to  write
more demented text files.

     Thank you all, and have a good night.

CREDITS
-------

    Dedaparamaxxaginos Productions (lack-of-good) Management Staff
    --------------------------------------------------------------

     Dedaparamaxx: Head writer, head dum kopf, head head.

     Imaginos: Master of cows and demented thoughts.

     Morgan Bluejeans: Cyberspace expert, maker of "big funnies."

     Tempus Fugit: Latin scholar, possessor of "outrageous French
                   Accent."

              Sometimes, but not all times, staff writers
              -------------------------------------------

     Jeff the Riffer: Evil!  Evil!  Evil!

     Diskwiz: Cyberspace engineer, editor-in-sleep.

IF YOU'RE CRAZY ENOUGH TO WANT TO CONTACT US:
---------------------------------------------

Dedaparamaxxaginos Productions, LTD, INC, PhD, BS, FTD.
8009 SW 55th PL
Gainesville, FL     32608

     No CODs please.  We don't like getting fish in the mail.  That is
a REAL address,  and any correspondence sent there  will  be  answered
according to our moods, but it WILL be answered.  Letter bombs will be
returned to sender,  unopened.  Drugs, money, complements, and general
ramblings are accepted.

     To receive a group photo of  the  Dedaparamaxxaginos  Productions
staff,  send a self-addressed,  stamped envelope and a quarter wrapped
in duct tape to the above address.

     Mail may also be sent to [email-masked].

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
[email-masked]
Bryan Slatner, aka Marimaxx, aka Dedalus, aka Paradox, aka Mongo
President of Dedaparamaxxaginos Productions

If these opinions were the opinions of JenMar International, Inc., I would
own it.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-