Mask unhappily threw the phone into the glove compartment and placed both hands on the wheel. He gripped the leather and rested his head against his hands. The pressure on his forehead offered relief from the violent throbbing behind his eyes. He pushed the stetson up his brow and nuzzled against the wheel. Rough stubble bristles massaged the back of his hands. The nausea rolling inside his stomach seemed to fall away, and as a thin breeze cooled the sweat from his neck, he felt his thoughts ordering themselves. Single frames of the previous evening tessellated into a memory of a bar, of a dirty whiskey glass that now lay in the bottom of the motel pool. A pair of shoes lost in a card game that never seemed to make sense. Having spent the last twenty five years living in air conditioning and strip lighting, his body was woefully unprepared for the Midwest sun, and a hangover was a different beast under these conditions. A passing vehicle caused the car to rock gently. Mask listened to the fading drone, picturing the car speeding up the gentle slope into the forest. The miles of road became tangled into a ball. They'd been on the road for two days, and the flat grey space had found it's way into his mind, paving a road for the passing thoughts.
"uh, so, are we going then? Because if not, I'm going to go back and sleep until the maid kicks us out"
Mask lifted his head and opened his burning eyes. The sun was there to great him with a nuclear flash. He could see mart peering at him in the rear view mirror. A bright yellow baseball cap sat comfortably on the top of his head. Sunglasses rested on the peak of the cap. Black v neck t shirt. Sweat. Dust hung in the air of the car and choked in Mask's throat.
With a clunk the door began to open and mart shifted to leave the car.
"we're going, we're going. I need to borrow your phone. Mine's fucked. Battery. Dead."
The door closed heavily again and mart squirmed around to find the phone.
"Oh for fuck's sake mart, that's my fucking foot you lanky ginger northern twat."
Benway took the t-shirt off his face with an angry snap and threw the phone at mart
"Now let me get some fucking sleep. My head is absolute agony. Wake me when we get there"
And the T shirt was returned to the sulky boiling face.
"you're a pair of arseholes. Give me that phone"
Mart snatched the phone off mart and pushed it to his ear.
"Hawooga, Captain"
As always, h1ppy was chirpy.
"Hawooga, H1ppy. We're ready to go. But you need to download the final position to the nav. It's ready to receive now, so...
"Transmitting now, Captain."
The nav had been crudely attached to the top of the dashboard, ruining the otherwise perfect antique finish. The caddy had seemed a good idea at the time, but the sight of the nav riveted into the aging leather always gave Mask a moment of sadness. The nav chirped as the position was received, and displayed the route. About half a day's drive.
"Captain, is there anything else I can assist you with?"
"No thanks, h1ppy. Hawooga."
"Hawooga Captain"
Mask tossed the phone into the back seat. An angry yelp came from underneath the t-shirt.
"Looks like we're on the move, boys. Buckle up. If you need to be sick, I got some bags up here. We're not stopping until we reach Agent R. Radio on?"
"Radio on...." Mart sighed from underneath the peak of the cap.
With a click, country music began playing. Mask hit the handbrake, and rolled the car out of the motel car park.
"Wait, Captain, ahhh..I think I left the file in the motel. I'll just run and get it"
Mask flicked on the handbrake, closed his eyes, and rested his head back on the wheel. The slam of mart's door caused the car to rock. For the hundreth time in two days, Mask cursed his luck for landing this ridiculous task.
A muffled voice came from underneath the t-shirt
"So, Captain, have you ever met Agent R before?"
"I've met the bastard", Mask groaned into the back of his hand. "Redneck. Hick. How he ever left the ranch to join the MSI is a fucking mystery. Still. He knows more about the moon than anybody. Knows its face better than he knows his own. If any **** can work out what's going on up there, it's that **** ."
"what's he like?"
"I just told you, he's a redneck. Shotgun under the bed. Hunting knife on the pillow."
"No wife and kids?"
"Once. There was an incident. Classified, even for me. I tried to get it out of the system, but no cigar. Still. He's all alone up there. All by himself and not even a goddamn phone. I only hope this position is accurate. Nobody's seen him in five years. If he wasn't such a **** . If he wasn't such a redneck **** and he'd get a fucking phone. Well."
"sounds like a nob-end"
Mart leaped back into the car, clutching the case.
"Right, ready now. Sorry about that Captain"
And they were finally moving.
**************
After five hours of country music, headaches, stink and swearing, they pulled into the road that would hopefully lead them to Agent R. The pitted dirt track caused the car to rock and jerk violently. The men were longing to leave the car. More than anything, they were desperate to get away from each other. Between them they'd left the compound less than ten times in as many years, and the chaos of the outside world reminded them why they'd joined the Institute in the first place. Life in the compound may have been stressful, but at least it was ordered. Everything was clean. The only smell was the weak odour of the three daily meals. The charts, the computers, the screens and the data offered an escape from the ongoing horror of the war. Not that anybody knew what war was any more. Because there had never been anything else.
Two days before the Cadillac began crawling up the road to Agent R's ranch, routine data had been recieved from the surveillance craft 'Sunrise'. The skeleton crew had been unable to make sense of the information, and had flagged it to the staff at the Institute. The data was bounced around the various tiers and micro organisations for a day before the decision was made to present it to Agent R. None of the three men assigned to take it to Agent R had seen it.
The road to the ranch was long. The state of the ground kept the car at a slow speed, and for one of the few times on the journey, trees parted to reveal the earth and the sky together. The sky was a purple and silver swirl, and black trees covered the blood red ground like a wide, thick oil slick. America had never looked so fine. The three men gazed at the landscape with virgin eyes, and all of them felt the sorrow that radiated from the earth with the dry relentless heat. The sensation of there being something larger than themselves was also lacking from life within the compound. They remained silent as the car bumped towards the wooden shack on the top of the hill.
******************
"This has got to be a facking wind up, Mask. Jesus."
"Mask.... this can't be... surely nobody..?"
Mask felt the sandy earth underneath his bare feet. The building before them was angular and wooden. Two stories high, it seemed to have more roofs than would ever have been neccesary. Tiny windows appeared in improbable places, suggesting a unusual and complex internal layout. In places on the walls the wood had collapsed, revealing what looked like either a lead or concrete inner shell. The only signs of life were the chair on the porch and the fresh tyre tracks leading to a shuttered garage. There was little sound on the top of the hill. The birds could not be heard, and even the relentless whine of the cicadas had seemed to fade out as they'd approached the summit. The sun blazed directly above them, and a warm breeze danced between the three figures. Dust swirled around their ankles. Mask's combat jacket flapped against his filthy white t-shirt.
The engine of the Cadillac clicked and creaked as it cooled down.
"Nav said this was the place, boys. Mart, why don't you take a look through a window"
"...Captain."
Mart dragged his heels as he moved towards the porch. The door looked like it might swing open easily. After only a few steps, a PA screeched to life
"STOP RIGHT THERE"
Mart froze on the spot.
"TURN AROUND AND WALK BACK TO THE CAR. SLOWLY."
The voice sounded old and cracked. Mart cautiously followed the order.
Mask held up both hands and turned on the spot, showing he was unarmed. He shouted into the sky above them.
"Agent R? It's Captain Mask. The Institute sent us. We've got something we want you to take a look at. Something on the moon"
A moment of silence.
"MASK? HOLY SHIT! WAIT THERE, I'LL COME DOWN."
The authority in the voice had fallen away. Mask thought he even detected excitement. The old bastard probably didn't get many visitors. After what seemed like a couple of minutes, the door on the porch opened slowly, and a frail figure was released from the shadows. The figure was bent, and carried a stick. Long grey hair was whipped into the air.
"Mask? Captain Mask? Holy shit, man, I can't believe it's you!" The figure raised a hand to shield the sun. The thin voice barely made it across the porch. Mask indicated to Benway and Mart to follow him, and he walked towards the porch in the manner of one walking across rough earth with soft, unfamiliar feet. It wasn't until he got to the shade of the porch that he could make out Agent R's features. Life outside the Institute hadn't been kind. The lines were deep across a brown leathery face. The long grey hair was matted and unclean. Tiny round glasses seemed to shrink the watery grey eyes behind them. Beneath the expectant smile lurked a dullness. Death had been living within Agent R for some time.
"Agent R, it's great to see you again". Mask held out his hand. Keep it professional.
"Oh, come now, you can call me Ralph. Nobody's called me Agent R for five years now. Then again, nobody called me Ralph for two, neither!"
A chesty laugh betrayed further aging.
"Sorry 'bout the old security there. Can't be too careful, even when the Institute's involved. How is the old place? Still the same? That hardass Agent S2 still in charge?"
"Agent R - Ralph - we're here on Institute business. A craft on routine surveillance before a moon drop sent back some data that got people in Landed Ops twitchy. They want you to take a look at what they found, see if you can't tell them what it is."
"Okay, okay my boy, we'll get to that, Mask. Who are your friends here? Well...don't they look pretty as pictures. Look a little green to be coming all the way out to meet bad old Agent R, eh boys?"
That laugh again. Agent R leaned on his stick as his chest popped and rasped with the laughter.
"Ralph, these are Officers Benway and Mart. They came to make sure nothing happened to the data on the way. Protocol, you know how it is...".
Agent R lifted his hand to shield his eyes again. He squinted at Mart and Benway.
"Well, guess they can come in too. You're all invited to 'El Rancho Ralph-o'. I got whiskey and I got water. Follow me and take your pick. Personally, I recommend the whiskey. I been drinking the water here for years, and I still can't get used to the taste. And, you boys look like you could use a drink'. Agent R began shuffling back through the porch door
Benway piped up
"Actually, ha ha, Ralph, we had quite a drink - "
"It's Agent R to you, my boy. And I don't care what you had...."
The four of them entered the building, and Benway shut the door behind them.
****************
Inside the house, the kitchen seemed to dominate the groundfloor. The men sat around a handmade wooden table. Windows lined the four walls of the room in an irregular pattern. While the sink and food surfaces looked dusty and untouched, the desks and benches pushed against the walls were piled high with engine parts, ancient circuit boards, and metal working tools. It was hard to believe that a man so physically frail could still be working with metal. The windows were slick with grime, oil, and dirt, so the room was dark and cool. An electric lantern swung from a cord hanging from the ceiling. On the table were three glasses of whiskey on glass of murky water.
"So, how's life at the Institute, Mask? What's happened since I left?"
"It's the same. Same old routine. Same food. Same orders. Nothing's changed. You know the Institute. It just stays the same".
Agent R peered thoughtfully into the depths of the liquid in front of him.
"Yep. It never changes. I thought I'd be able to get away from it by leaving, getting out. But life on the outside is cruel, Mask. Time goes faster out here. Things happen, people die or disappear, and there's nobody to tell you why."
"But I thought that's why you left. You don't miss the Institute do you?"
"Hell, no, I don't miss that place. Me? Miss that? Never seeing the sun, never eating something that was once alive? You know from up here I can see thirty species of bird. I seen three types of bear. I've even started collecting the beetles I find in the basement. Yeah, I know all about the sky and that sun. I remember what the Institute tells you about those rays. But it's a different world up here, Mask. It's a different way of life."
"It seems like... a harder way of life"
Agent R took a sip of the water, wincing at the taste.
"You'll understand one day. You've enjoyed the drive up here, right?"
The three travellers exchanged tired glances.
"Well, you're welcome to stay here for the night"
Mart took a large gulp of the whiskey
"I don't think we'll be staying that long, Agent R. We're expected back at the Institute before the end of the week"
"Okay, Okay boys, I understand. So, where's this data that you wanted me to take a look at? I hope that I can be of use to you, but my eyes aint what they used to be. They say you only need to look at the sun for a minute and they'll never be the same again. I've been living under that fiery bastard for ten years now..."
The Captain pushed the case containing the paper file over to Agent R. The case was still sealed. Agent R pressed his thumb on the indentifier, and after a few seconds, the case clicked open. Agent R inspected the contents.
"Well now boys, the first thing I can tell you is that I'm not supposed to have this here case open with you in the room. This here is only for the Captain and me. So I'm afraid I'm going to - "
"say no more, Ralph. Benway, Mart - go and take a look at the Caddy. I want to make sure that thing's ready to go when we're done with this data. Also make sure we can radio home. In fact, Why don't you radio home now and tell H1ppy that we're here safe"
"Sir, no problem Captain". Mart stood and left the kitchen. Benway knocked back the rest of the whiskey and looked expectantly at the bottle.
"Pour yourself another glass and get out, Officer".
Another gulp, and Benway followed Mart.
Agent R looked up from the case, and fixed Mask with heavy, sad eyes.
"Did I ever tell you why I left the Institute, Captain Mask?"
"No, I never asked. There were rumours...."
"I'm sure there were. I'm sure there were. Do you think that I'm an old fool? I can see it when you look at me. You still can't see why I'm here, can you?"
"Agent R, this isn't really - "
"I know, I know Captain. You're here on Institute work. But I'm a civilian now, Captain. Ever wondered what that's like?"
"Technically we're all civilians"
"Yes....I suppose that's true. That's what they tell you..."
"Agent R. Ralph. I'm afraid we don't have time for this. We really have to identify whatever is in that case and get back to the Institute."
"You seem nervous, Mask. You don't seem like the Captain I knew back when we were both working in Landed Ops"
"Well, to tell you the truth, Ralph... My boy Ringo is up there. He's on detail in the Surveillance craft."
"Your....son?"
"In a manner of speaking. I raised him. I nurtured him into the Institute. You remember. And he's due to make a landing in the next week."
"Hmmm. Well, then Captain. Perhaps you should see this."
Agent R pushed the opened case towards Captain Mask. In the case was a single photograph. The surface of the moon. The craters, the pits. Nothing else.
"Ralph, I -"
"Look at the crater on the top right"
Mask took the photograph from the case and studied it.
"This. Surely this is an error? A problem with the picture? Could that be an old piece of craft or drone?"
"No, Mask. That thing is real"
"But, that's impossible."
Protruding from the crater, a pair of gaping jaws could be clearly made out. The jaws were so large that the teeth could be seen. They could swallow the house that the two men were sitting in.
"But - "
"Captain, have you ever heard of the Luna Carcharodon megalodon?"
"Ralph, this can't be - "
"Otherwise know as the Giant Moon Shark?"
The whiskey glass fell from the Captain's hand, and shattered on the cool concrete floor.
TBC...
[ 15.09.2006, 07:03: Message edited by: Dr. Benway ]
Ringo leant over and jabbed Mickey hard in the arm
"Ow you FUCKER!"
Mickey returned the jab, adding a rough slap to the top of Ringo's head.
"Fuck you midget man!"
"What did you call me?!"
"Twat"
Ringo grabbed Mickey round the neck and pushed him hard on the shoulder. He grinned broadly as he watched Mickey float across the living module. Mickey gurned back as he drifted, making faces of mock horror, before banging the back of his head on a sleeping pod. Coloured lights flicked on overhead and a gentle hissing sound filled the module. Ssshhhhh.... It was almost soothing. Ringo reached up and hit the reset switch before the sleep cycle had a chance to activate. He then glanced into the wall camera with a grin and a shrug. Chances are they would get bollocked for hitting the reset switch while they were working off reserve power. Chances are Thorn was watching them in silent rage, veins bulging above the constrictive collar of his commander's uniform. Well, fuck him.
A clipboard arced its way across the module, heading towards Ringo's head. Mickey peeked out from behind the sleeping pod, and launched a sanitary bag as a follow-up. As the bag twisted away from Mickey's defensive position, it gently released a payload of tissues, pills, wipes and lotions. Vitamins filled the module like pellets from a slow motion shotgun blast. They would definitely be getting in shit for this now. Ringo dodged the clipboard, but couldn't hide from a gob of white moisturiser. It crashed into his eye as he ducked a pen.
"You WANKER!"
Ringo grabbed a multi tool and flung it as hard as he could. It went woefully off target and sailed into the next module. The white gunk was stinging his eye. Mickey giggled from behind the pod.
"Fuck YOU!"
"Look, you got something in my eye and it stings now. You've taken it too far as usual. Jesus, you're such a child. And I had to hit the reset switch which we'll get bollocked for"
"YOU pushed me! That wasn't my fault!"
"Well you shouldn't have started on me!"
"oooh! Somebody's getting a bit shirty!". Mickey flicked a plastic cup towards ringo. It bounced off the window and remained suspended in the space between them with all the other crap from the sanitary bag.
The two men watched the plastic cup as it slowly rotated, drops of water tentatively emerging from the drinking straw.
"Somebody lose a multi tool?"
Louche floated in from the engineering module, multitool in hand. To the men, her hair looked is if she was swimming underwater. As she moved forward through the module it flowed out behind her head in a beautiful red trail, and then pooled around her face as she slowed down. The individual strands then twisted forwards as if they were alive, searching the space for prey. She usually kept it tied back, so the sight of it rippling in this way was nearly enough to calm the men down. They remained mesmerised.
"Jesus fuck! What happened in here?!". Louche indicated towards the debris from the battle.
"Fucking Mickey being a twat AS USUAL"
"Ermm, actually it you that started it"
"No, it was -"
Louche bumped into Ringo on her way to the tool rack.
"Are you two going to put some proper clothes on? We're supposed to all meet up in Navigation in half an hour". The men were wearing something like longjohns, adorned with pockets and sanitary attachments. Louche had clearly only put her bright blue maintenance outfit on within the last ten minutes.
"Also you better tidy all this shit up. And don't fuck with my tools"
Louche clipped the tool back into the appropriate space on the wall. She reached in her pocket and fished out a hair tie. Still the men watched as she gathered it from around her and tamed it within the special tie.
"Jesus Christ! What?". She glared back at the men.
Louche stared at Ringo. Her eyes narrowed. Sometimes she really wished that she'd gone straight into deep space exploration. You didn't get this kind of idiocy at light speed. But still. There was a chance of a moonwalk at least. Ringo gave a sheepish grin.
"Oh just fuck off and get ready". She pushed herself towards the module portal using her feet against the window, refusing to look at the men any longer.
"No, Louche, I was being...."
But she sailed out through the portal, causing the sanitary products to disperse in her wake.
"Nice one Mickey. I was trying to be nice, and you're just laughing like a twat"
Ringo executed an elegant backwards roll and used his hands to pull himself towards his locker.
Mickey emerged from behind the pod and made his way to his own locker. "You're the twat", came the defeated response.
"Let's clear this stuff up before the meeting". Ringo nodded in silence, and launched a shirt towards the camera.
************
The Sunrise had been orbiting round the moon for years. It had become a regular part of general Institute training that anybody hoping to work off home should spend some time in The Sunrise. Landed ops on the moon were generally only used for training purposes too, although there were still a small number of dedicated outposts that were occasionally populated by scientists and scouts. Having spent a few weeks carrying out maintenance on the Sunrise and installing some new communication relays, the three cadets were looking forward to their first moonwalk.
Life on the Sunrise was not usually a happy one. For Commander Thorn, it was rarely anything other than intolerable. He sat in silence at the head of the general meeting area in Navigation. Already the meeting was ten minutes in, and still none of his fellow astronauts had appeared. He angrily recalled his own first weeks in moon orbit, some ten years ago. He'd been on time for everything. He'd done everything by the book because if you didn't then safety went out the window. And that's one window you didn't want to go out of. He looked over to the small opening between the banks of computers. The bright grey moon slid by. It was always there. Staying the same. Relentless. He was convinced that he was running a glorified student dorm. The fact that the cadets were in freezing space, surrounded by vacuum and at least a day away from their home planet didn't seem to stop them from acting in appallingly childish ways.
The board stylus snapped in his hand, and a small blob of blood floated up past his face. He clenched his hand and watched another blob form, which he blew away. Fuck these kids. After a dedicated service to the Institute, this is how they repay him. The suits down there, too chicken shit to come and see for themselves what was going on up here. Years of living in space had taken its toll on his body, and any time spent in Earth gravity or greater always seemed to be a painful and miserable experience. There were other options, but somebody had to look after the Sunrise. It was like living in a tin can.
"Hawooga Commander Thorn"
H1ppy's disembodied voice wafted from a nearby monitor.
"Hawooga, you stupid piece of mechanical junk"
"Hawooga Commander Thorn"
Just one more straw on his back. The only voice he heard sometimes for weeks on end was that of the Institute's AI communications system. How he hated it. Always so damn cheerful.
"Hawooga H1ppy"
"Commander Thorn, we are not receiving data from the morning meeting. Please can -"
"That's because they're not out of fucking bed yet. Don't your systems even tell you that?"
A pause. He'd deliberately spoken too quickly for the system to keep up on a first pass. By the time H1ppy replied, it had probably had to analyse the last phrase a few hundred times to find the words. The thought of that brought light pleasure to the Commander.
"In that case, we look forward to receiving the data shortly."
"okay, fine."
"Hawooga Commander Thorn"
"FUCK OFF! YOU RIDICULOUS -"
Cadet Mickey appeared at the portal. Nearly twenty minutes late.
"- **** !"
"sorry commander, we were - "
"I saw what you were doing. I hope that it's all been cleared up now. Station sanitary products should not be thrown around the living modules. Where are your - ah, well, come in, come in, let's get started"
Ringo and Louche floated in after Mickey, and took their places by their assigned consoles. All three astronauts were avoiding the Commander's glare. Idiots. Complete idiots. At least one of them was easy on the eye, thought the Commander, as the extended craft systems evaluation starting rolling across the monitors. Ten thousand on board systems, having been built from just a hundred when the Sunrise first went on line. Ten Thousand ways to die. The threat of death was always there, just inches away. You could almost touch it. Once upon a time, the Commander had been happy. Back when death was something that could be ignored.
"Systems all fine, Commander". Louche accepted the evaluation results, which were then instantly transmitted to the Institute .
"Right, well, then I'll make this brief. We're coming up to the moonwalk, and I think you're prepared. Despite the idiocy I've witnessed over the last few weeks, you seem to know what you're doing with the equipment. I've gone over your physical results, and you're all fine. You especially, Louche came out with a very impressive overall figure.".
The Commander paused and leered at Louche from under his brow. Louche gritted her teeth. Her future was still hanging in the balance, so she couldn't let rip with an angry retort.
"You may recall that there was some seemingly erroneous data picked up in the surface scan a few days ago. H1ppy tells us that we're still waiting on the results of the analysis. We can wait for H1ppy to get back to us, but that may take another week. Which could delay the walk by a fortnight. Believe me, I don't want that any more than you do. As Commander, I'm recommending that we go ahead anyway. H1ppy is currently classifying the unexpected data as a simple instrument error, which isn't surprising considering the amount of new equipment we've installed recently. Any questions". The Commander saw three blank expressions. Eyes unfocused. Thoughts elsewhere. Incredible, he thought. Complete retards.
"Commander, do we know the nature of the bad data?"
"Well, as far as I can tell, it's nothing more that a glitch in the imaging process. I really don't think it's something to waste our time on".
"In that case commander, as senior cadet, I am confident in your judgement, and will commence preparation for the moonwalk".
"Thank you Cadet Louche. That's all for now. Same for pinky and perky over there"
With that, the Commander moved silently and stiffly into the command module, closing the portal behind him. Once in the module, he stared out into the rotating space ahead of him. The stars drawing perfect circles, round and round they go. His own sagging reflection hung like a phantom out there, in the void. A tired old man with a ruined body. Peering out towards the end of the galaxy, looking but no longer seeing. There was nothing left to see. The monitor for the living module blinked into life, and the Commander watched as Ringo enthusiastically emptied a tube of toothpaste onto Mickey's head. It emerged from the tube like a thin white worm, curling over a searing flame.
*************
After the meeting, Louche returned to the Engineering module. She closed the sound barrier between Engineering and living, as once more her comrades began fighting for supremacy of the module. Louche continued with her optical calibration exercises, tuning and tweaking the various electronic eyes that had been fitted to the Sunrise. Even after only a few weeks in space, she could feel her body changing. Her organs were shifting inside her, and her energy levels were dropping. More and more of the day was spent on exercising. The boys were sweet, she enjoyed their company some of the time. They kept their energy levels up by bickering. She had joined in for the first week, but now found comfort in silence and stars. The few times she'd caught sight of the Earth in the tiny window of the engineering module had challenged her ability to communicate. There was something that she wanted to express, but couldn't.
"Hawooga Cadet Louche"
"Hawooga H1ppy"
"Cadet Louche, please be advised that we will soon be placing the Sunrise in the emergency energy configuration. This is routine after any major engineering has been undertaken. During this time there may be breaks in communication."
"Thanks H1ppy"
"Hawooga Cadet Louche"
"Hawooga"
She continued to work, torch in mouth, tool in hand, and the battle for control of the living module raged on.
TBC
[ 15.09.2006, 11:48: Message edited by: Dr. Benway ]
quote:Originally posted by Dr. Benway: Mickey emerged from behind the pod and made his way to his own locker. "You're the twat", came the defeated response.
posted
While we're waiting for the next installment, I did a quick compilation based on a selective sample and determined that Dr Benway is officially TMO's most prolific poster.
There should be various footnotes relating to the number of times Thorn's post count was reset and the number of trolls under which kovacs may have posted, but frankly that's too much effort.
not...
You reached over with your hand and knocked my Jap over
posted
Every image represents something in the BNWY Spambots psyche.
The birds are a literal representation of BNWY's occasionally mentioned love of Bird watching. On a more spiritual level, the birds also symbolise the two sides of the Spambot's conscience - the common tit representing the good and the malevolent crow (a symbol of misfortune and grief, when seen in a dream) representing evil.
Incidently I have seen the crow in a dream once, It wheeled around me as I stood alone in my primary school playground and kept divebombing me, first I thought it was friendly but after a few swoops I realised it was pure ebony evil. I fought it off for a while but eventually I ran out of strength and fell down on the floor. I watched, the fear rising in the pit of my stomach as the thing began it's final dive towards me and then suddenly woke up in a sweat soaked bed. Horrible.
posted
Talking of horrible, I just passed Harley on the streets of Clapham Junction. He looked quite respectable, perhaps in some kind of uniform. His face gave a glimmer of recognition as the girl who threatened to stab him.
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posted
I like the way the birds are whispering in Benway's ears, and the way he has his head cocked slightly as if straining to decide which to listen to, while his black eyes plead with us to make the voices stop, to PLEASE make the voices stop. Please.
[ 19.09.2006, 04:46: Message edited by: Boy Racer ]
-------------------- Some people stand in the darkness, afraid to step into the light... Posts: 3770
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not...
You reached over with your hand and knocked my Jap over
posted
quote:Originally posted by herbs: Talking of horrible, I just passed Harley on the streets of Clapham Junction. He looked quite respectable, perhaps in some kind of uniform. His face gave a glimmer of recognition as the girl who threatened to stab him.
posted
I think he bottled it and started a new profile called Jimmy Big Nuts to escape the pressure of having to satisfactorily finish the story or live with 10,000 posts.
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H1ppychick
We all prisoners, chickee-baby. We all locked in.
posted
I think it was all a cunning plan to fuck with our heads. To trail us a couple of episodes and title them as though there were to be others, counting down to the landmark 10k, only to disappear, leaving us wanting more for eternity.
Coincidentally, we have a new joiner. Do you think Benway might be wearing a Big Nuts skin?
-------------------- i'm expressing my inner anguish through the majesty of song Posts: 4243
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