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THE STARDOCK FANCLUB
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#1
by Veteran MM77 - 2/7/2004 11:35:17 AM
DJ MM77 To KICK a oldie but goodie.
Called THE STARDOCK HOP!
Go and tell your mom...
Go and tell your pop!
Everybodys going to the Stardock Hop!Hop!
GREATEST dance in ALL the land
Grab a partner by the hand
Well look it there
Thats! the T-MAN
Coolest cat in all the land!land!
Do se do
And promenade
let's see if the ladies
Have what it takes
CariElf
Has made the seen
She glides so gracefully
Don't you agree
She move about
Just like a DREAM
She cuts the meanest rug
That I ever Seen!Seen!
KarmaGirl
Has just stepped in
ALL of the boys
Have on a grin
Thay love to watch her
Dance and twirl
KarmaGirl has ROCKED our WORLD!WORLD!
And look at that!
Theirs BoogieBac
He's going to show us
Where its at
He Rocks and Rolls
All night long
As long as the DJ plays the songs
A Joe had danced
And thought he was cool!
BUT! Boogiebac
Took him to School!School!
If you want
A little more joy
Look for the man
Thay call Frogboy
He'll have you laughing
When your dancing
All the guys take notes
To learn of romancing
When he sings
All the ladies swoon
Girls go CRAZY
And start to SCREAM!SCREAM!
Over to the left side
Over to the right side
Ya
ya e ya e ya
Go and tell your mom...
Go and tell your pop!
Everybodys going to the Stardock HOP!HOP!
Over to the inside
Over to the outside
Ya
ya e ya e ya
Over to the left side
Over to the right side
Ya
ya e ya e ya
Go and tell your mom...
Go and tell your pop!
Everybodys going to the Stardock HOP 
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Seems like an appropriate place...
Thank you, Stardock crew, for your recent efforts in defending the servers we enjoy so much. Spending your evening at the end of the workweek to help your customers sets you well apart from your competitors. It does not go unnoticed. 
KitWarrior, Assistant Undersecretary of Interstellar Conventions
        
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#3
by Veteran MM77 - 2/7/2004 12:18:04 PM
#14 by BoogieBac - 5/31/2003 11:57:59 PM
*looks around for the official "Boogie" fan club, but with no avail *
As long as I get mine before T-Man gets his. 
MM77: BoogieBac,
I think this is as close as your going to get,
BUT I could be WRONG. 
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#9
by Veteran MM77 - 2/7/2004 8:06:57 PM
And just a friendly note there will be NO DUCK ROASTING! in THIS club. THANK YOU. 
Exar Kuun,
WERE GOINING TO PARTY PAL!
[Message Edited]
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YOU'RE BACK! Whew....good think I went to the store and got some more M's and 7's! PARTY ON DUDE!
     
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#11
by Veteran MM77 - 2/7/2004 10:20:51 PM
by Wild Wombat
The Bodyguard
Another screaming horde of fans greeted them at the hotel entrance. Wild Wombat spoke quietly into his throat mike, directing Monkson and black smoke into a wedge formation to help them get through the lobby and out to the waiting limo. In the middle of it all, the harlequin jester himself, DJ MM77, cavorted and played to the crowd as if he had been born to revel in the spotlight. As they reached the pavement outside, the fans began the usual throwing of chocolate M&Ms to their favourite DJ. It wasn't as if Wombat didn't like chocolate, although he was a little suspicious that some of those multicoloured spheres might have turned up some far more interesting constituents in the toxicology analyser.
Eventually they made the relative calm of the bullet proof limo and it pulled slowly away from the kerb.
"Was that not FANTASTIC!" yelled the multicoloured one. "Hey, come on - give me some [IRON PAW MODE]@!@@ Give me some [IRON PAW MODE] !!! YEAH!!$%(@#!!%^!!."
Wombat sighed. Bodyguard assignments were not the worst sort of work for trained operatives, depending on the principal one was asked to protect. Besides, Special Forces was somewhat...down on its luck, and one could not afford to be too choosy. This contract was simple; DJ MM77 was to perform at a rave, and SpecFor guaranteed it would go off without a hitch. Raves were interesting to Wild Wombat - a warehouse location would be chosen a few hours before concert time, and phone messages would go out across the city, notifying the faithful where and when to meet. Special Forces had scoped out the proposed venue, and Cypher and Piers were there now, checking arrangements one last time.
As the limo pulled off the main highway to enter the small side road to the chosen warehouse, a black motorcycle pulled alongside. Wombat signalled to the rider and Ginata nodded back, her Ducati 996 peeling off to conduct a perimeter sweep of the surrounding access roads. The limo deposited MM77 at the back of the warehouse and the DJ went to check his sets for the show.
Wombat filed through the gathering crowds and checked out the first aid room, the amphetamine room, the ecstasy room, the heroin injecting room and the resuscitation room and ambulance bay. Thank goodness it was a dry rave, although Wombat was already thirsting for a beer. He wandered into the main hall, sensing the mounting excitement of the crowd, who were already stripping down and rubbing baby oil over each other.
Wombat sat down and resisted the urge to scratch. He had learned that if the Iron Paw jangled the Golden Balls, it set up a metallic discordant vibration that incapacitated everyone within a hundred metres. He got up and wandered over to Cypher standing outside the first aid room. "Mate, did you manage to sneak in any cold beer?"
Cypher rummaged in Piers' rucksack, and threw a bottle over to Wombat. Suddenly, the lighting dimmed and a booming voice filled the warehouse.
"Citizens of the MMpire...give it up for...EMM...EMM...SEVENTY...SEVEN!!!!!" A laser light show flashed as a heavy techno beat pounded throughout the house, driven by the DJ's mad vocals...which was the signal for thousands of oil slicked bodies to start gyrating and writhing in delight.
Wombat sculled down his beer, which he immediately noted seemed...odd. A slight dizzyness overtook him...and he was suddenly jerked back to awareness by the Bundy Bear grabbing his elbow. "Wombat! Quack just intercepted a threat call from a short wave receiver nearby, transmitting a signal to a receiver INSIDE the warehouse. The venue is compromised! We've got to get the principal outa here!"
Wild Wombat rocked unsteadily and grabbed a nearby rail to steady himself. He worked his throat mike. "Jaws, Hurley, Killa - we need backup - now!...Ben...you and I will institute a search of the front half of the warehouse...Cypher, Jeff and Piers the rear half...err...unnnh..."
He slid to the floor. He glanced at the bottom of the beer bottle. "Return to Q Branch to claim 25c refund." Crikey, he thought...bloody Piers' Wacko Jacko Camo...as he slumped forwards.
His vision recovered quickly but all did not seem...right. Even clenching his Iron Paw felt kind of soft...until he realised it was covered by a sequinned glove. He tried to move towards the front of the warehouse, and suddenly the gyrating bodies in front of him seemed to make a strange kind of pattern, one that was possible to pass through. He moved with grace he'd never known as a wombat, slipping and sliding, moonwalking to meet up with the others at the front of the stage.
Samurai Ben grabbed him by the collar. "Wombat - are you all right? What the hell's going on?"
Wombat brushed him off:
"I'm full of funky fever
And fire burns inside me
Boogies got me in a super trance!"
Ben's eyes narrowed. "You've been taking Piers' darn Camo again, haven't ya? For cryin' out loud - do we know who's responsible for the situation?"
Wombat burped, and sang out:
"Don't blame it on the sunshine
Don't blame it on moonlight
Don't blame it on good times
Blame it on the boogie"
Piers looked at Samurai Ben. "Listen...I had some really old prototype Camo I was going to chuck out on the way home. It should wear off soon - Ben, we've got to stick to the mission. Where is the principal?"
At this, Wombat piped up again:
"He rocks in the treetops all day long
Hoppin and a-boppin and singing his song
All the little birdies on Jaybird Street
Love to hear the robin go tweet tweet tweet"
"It must be old Camo - he's doing Jackson Five stuff." said Ben. "For Pete's sake! Look - you three search the back of the warehouse - I'll take Wombat and check the front. Where the hell are the others? Never mind - just hit the communicators if you find something." He grabbed Wombat and dragged him off to search the front stage area amid the pulsing music and mass of writhing bodies.
Wombat's vision began to clear somewhat. He looked up at MM77 on stage...and spied Jaws, Hurley and Killa singing doo-waps together on a spare mike. "Not that kind of BACKUP! " yelled Ben.
Together they searched the front stage area...and uncovered a black box wired into MM77's central sound system, complete with a prerecorded CD designed to be played over the system when triggered.
Wombat eyed the package suspiciously, and sang:
"Ben, the two of us need look no more
We've both found what we were looking for..."
Samurai Ben nodded. He carefully explored the wiring pattern and disconnected the black box, delicately removing the CD and rendering the device inert. Wombat's head started to clear and he looked carefully at the CD.
"It was a big one all right," said Ben. "Look at it...Puccini. Yep...broadcasting this opera over the speakers at a rave would have ruined MM77's career right then and there."
Piers and Jeff joined them and inspected the black box and CD. "We found each of the rear entrances' sound systems rigged with operettas." said Jeff. "The plan would have been to blast Puccini at them here, then, as they ran screaming out of the exits - they get nailed by Gilbert and Sullivan. Fiendish - but how could it have been organised?"
"Where's that sound engineer?" said Wombat weakly. "You know...scouse git, mullet hairdo...Cypher - find him!"
It didnt take the very large bear long to haul the sound engineer over to the waiting SpecFor operatives.
"i dunno wat youse want wid me. i iz done nothing. i iz just the sound man...really..." the man protested loudly.
"Oh really?" Cypher expertly frisked the man. "Then how do you explain these two tickets in your pocket...to LA BOHEME!"
"...its a fair cop..." the man said mournfully. " i iz got to do somefink for cultcha in dis town..."
"Take him away!" Ben motioned to Jeff and Piers. Wombat struggled to his feet. "I'll finish the job - time to get the principal outa here and to safety."
Wombat picked up MM77 and carrying him, ploughed through the crowd towards the doorway and the safety of the limo. As he moved through the crowd, MM77 sang back over his shoulder:
"Aaaannnnd IIIIIII
Willlll always
Looooooovvve yoooouuuuuu......."
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#12
by Veteran MM77 - 2/7/2004 10:43:44 PM
"i dunno wat youse want wid me. i iz done nothing. i iz just the sound man...really..." the man protested loudly.
Sounds like someone i know but I can't put my finger on him. 
WAIT! A MINUTE! That sounds like Killa Koala! 
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#13
by Veteran MM77 - 2/7/2004 10:49:41 PM
by Veteran Killa Koala - 1/18/2004 4:45:39 PM
Warning: Following is a novel. If you get distracted easily don't even attempt to read it.
Backplot: Many of the Special Forces were once GROSS pirates. KitWarrior was a pirate mate who disappeared one day. It became apparent that the ANZACs had abducted him for reasons we won't go into, and took him to the sacred world of Skowbo II to dispose of him 'humanely'. Finally, Wombie decided to form a mission to hunt for Kit.
Disclaimer: None of the characters in this story actually exist, so all names and character traits are coincidental and/or fictitious. This story contains smutty language and crass innuendo, and is boring in parts due to my attempts at being literary. Whilst this story is inspired by MM77's The CariElf Fan Club, all spelling mistakes and lapses in logic are Stardock's fault.
The Search for a Once and Future Warrior
The Special Forces Starship: A stylish bathroom
The bathtub steam wafted around the koala’s marble and gilt bathroom. The hot bath water was gently disturbed by the distant throb of the starship’s warp engines.
Gracefully, a sleek koala rose from the water and languorously reached for a jeweled bottle of essential oil, to tip a few drops into the bath. The scent of primrose filled the small, stylish room. With a primeval grin: a facial expression that yet contained a vestige of wild untamed animal, the koala grasped a yellow rubber ducky and gave two savage squeezes. The ducky went: ‘Quack. Quack.’
“Quack, quack, indeed, my little ducky”, murmured the koala sibilantly. “Shall we have a swim? Even with your broken wings?”
The koala tipped the ducky into the bath and thrust it roughly through the water by the neck. “You can’t get out? Did you say you’re drowning?” The koala chuckled: an unsettling chuckle that began in the throat and stayed there. Water slopped onto the terrazzo floor. Beady, red eyes were reflected in the slapping water. The pretend struggle was savage but very brief.
The sad yellow rubber ducky floated to the surface: its head twisted at an unlikely angle.
A brief pause before the koala slapped the water in an agitated fit of rage. After several minutes of slapping, the koala glared at the door and screamed, “This one’s dead. They always die. I want a new one! I want it now!”
A minute passed before there was the sound of a key in the door. A friendly koala head appeared in the opening: an affable expression on his calmly intelligent face. “Killetta dear. You just smother them with too much love. Instead of a rubber ducky, why not play with a rubber penguin or a rubber shark?”
Somewhat unexpectedly, a marble toilet brush crashed onto the friendly koala’s head: he fell to the floor, stunned. Killetta sobbed, but with that hideous strength, pushed the unconscious koala into the bathroom, closed the door and locked it. Killetta stared about the bedroom cabin, then turned towards the door that led to the ship’s corridor. She was free again, at last, and she had to scream.
The Special Forces Starship: The mess, a second later
“Good Heavens! Was that a scream?” queried black smoke from the bar, anxiously.
Ginata flapped her hand dismissively. “I didn’t hear it. Now let me think”.
Hurley looked at his watch and drummed his fingers on his chair arm.
“I’ve got it! ‘Zo’: a Himalayan yak. That gives me thirty-one points, and on a double word bonus: sixty-two points, and I’m out”. Ginata smiled at Hurls and Jaws as she placed her letters on the board. Jaws threw his remaining tiles down, surged to his two feet and stormed to the ship’s hot chocolate urn.
Hurls raised his eyebrow. “That makes two hundred and twenty-one wins for you, one hundred and ninety for me, and six for Jaws. Shall we call it a day?”
Ginata was nodding agreement when the mess door whooshed open and Wombie stepped into the room. He eyed the room with a sigh. The Special Forces were slouched around the ship’s mess in various degrees of listlessness.
Wombie clapped his paws enthusiastically. “Listen up guys. We’re just a few hours from Skowbo II. Now here’s the plan: eight of us will split into groups of two in order to search the Capital city efficiently. This is a tough mission! Still, I’m certain we’ll all have lots of fun and I really feel pumped about our quest”.
Piers looked thoughtful. “What is the Capital of Skowbo?”
“Stardock”.
“And the mission is?” asked Jaws, sipping his hot chocolate (also) thoughtfully.
Wombie winked: “This mission is codenamed ‘Kittenhunt’”.
The Special Forces Starship: The bridge, the next day
Killa wrung his paws. “So that’s the story everyone. My twin sister Killetta has escaped… and she hasn’t been taking her medication!” He whimpered again.
Wombie nodded thoughtfully. “So Killa… she dressed as you to fool us, and is now on Skowbo participating in the Special Forces mission”.
Killa nodded nervously: “She always did like cross-dressing. And as you know, male and female koalas can’t be told apart”.
“That’s true” said Piers, “you all look the same to me”.
Mr Furious was increasingly perplexed. “So was that you or Killetta on last year’s mission to Coruscant?”
Killa blushed. “It was Killetta pretending to be me pretending to be Killetta. Wombie and I thought that mission might help her psychologically. Why do you think she was such a stunner in drag? Because it wasn’t drag! I heard she was fighting them off: I certainly couldn’t have got away with that red dress ensemble… Unfortunately, that mission did lead to a certain obsession she now has…”
“So when else has she doubled for you?” gasped Nand 1.
“I let her out for the musicals…especially Oklahoma and The Pirates of GROSS. I actually hate musicals! Cats killed it for me. And when you saw me in a temper…that was Killetta dressed as me. Other than that, she was only allowed to access the internet…”
Monkson and Raj and Weasel all looked up: “What name did she use on the internet?” they asked in unison.
Killa shrugged. “She changed her handle so often, I couldn’t keep up!”
“The love of Pinot?” queried Goblin.
“That’s me. Killetta drinks Chianti”.
“So why is she locked away?”
“Guys, she is…unbalanced. Wombie has known about my twin sister for a while, but I felt I should keep it a secret from everyone-else, until now. Dr Quinn can explain”.
Dr Quinn lurched to her feet, cackling. “Hee hee hee. Unbalanced? Yes, you could say that. She is, after all, the love child of Pontius and me. If you look at this diagram…here…see the missing chromosome? This means that she is completely insane: criminally insane. There is nothing she is incapable of doing”.
“Nothing?”
“Nothing”.
“And who is she teamed with?” asked Piers, pale, as he turned to Wombie.
Wombie studied his diggingclaws, silently.
Skowbo II, Stardock City: A street, about the same time
The koala flung his arm out, twisted his wrist as he had seen Mrs Pilot do many-a-time, and gestured at the ancient city of Stardock. “There she is. Like a tarted up doxy. She’s one hell of a mistress if ya treat her right, but a sour crony if ya don’t respect her…”
“I can tame ‘er” grunted Harel, with absolute certainty. The koala glanced at Harel with a grin. The young man was…well…in his early twenties. And he was never uncertain.
“Harel mate, Stardock is more than she seems at first glance, or even first whiff. She’s a lover, she’s a wife, she’s a friend, she’s a whore. Never underestimate her, coz she’ll eat you and then spit you out. I lived here many ages ago with... Anyway, Stardock shapes you somehow”.
“How?”
“I’m not sure. She gets in your soul, somehow. I’m not sure”.
“You’re never sure Killa. That’s your problem”.
“Maybe. You’ll find out perhaps”.
They trudged into the ancient city. Past the plazas and cemeteries and markets. Over groaning bridges with fetid rivers oozing past as if exhausted at the effort of flowing through the endless suburbs. Stardock was big: it was bloated. It had been built on a swamp on a swampy world and the rich moist air carried the scents of decay and death all too well. It took most of a day to walk from the distant spaceport to the hotel where the koala intended to stay. At the sign of the Swinging Cadaver the koala stopped and turned to Harel. He pointed a thumb at the hotel that stood on the narrow street: its old rock walls covered in moss and lichen.
“Let me do the talking Harel. And a word of warning. Everything costs in Stardock- there’s nothing for free in this metropolis. Don’t so much as sneeze or accept anything without asking the cost first”.
They entered the hotel and glanced around. A clerk moved towards them rubbing his hands. “Gentlemen. Welcome. Rooms?” The clerk sized them up astutely: “Perhaps our cheaper rooms?”
The koala snorted. “We need a quiet two bedroom suite. With two beds and appropriate sheets, blankets and pillows. Absolute privacy including a door that locks, keys to lock the door, a bathroom with available unlimited running hot and cold water, useable towels and a toilet with a flush. How much?”
The clerk pursed his lips with an air of disdain. “We do have a special this week. A suite much as you’ve described and including a bath and a complimentary foot massage with moisturising cream”.
Killa raised his eyebrow. “Harel, always be suspicious of specials. I guess that the moisturizing cream will no doubt cause major staining of the carpet leading to significant cleaning costs that we will be liable for. Alternatively it will cause an itchy rash and the cure will cost double the price of the room”.
Harel was impressed at this duplicity. The clerk glared at the koala but said nothing.
Killa curled his lip. “We will take the suite without the complimentary foot massage, for three nights. We want no specials or other complimentary offers. No fruit, flowers, shampoos, soaps, essences or unguents.”
The clerk showed them the room: the suite was basic but clean.
“Oh look” muttered the koala. “Wire coat hangers…”
Skowbo II, Stardock City: The Swinging Cadaver, after lunch
Lunch was wholesome if unexciting. After the coffees, Killa signaled to the clerk. “Where can we find the Friary of the Fractious Frog?”
The clerk wrinkled his brow speculatively. Do you want the exact location or…”
“Whatever information is free”.
“My time is valuable. I can provide the location on a map for a mere six credits”.
“Five credits and you’ve got a deal”.
The clerk quickly found a map and penned the location of the Friary on the map. As he handed the map to Harel he asked curiously, “May I ask why you wish to go there? Why are you on Skowbo?”
Harel quietly sneered. “A basic answer will cost three credits, an intriguing answer six credits, and I can absolutely gob-smack you for twenty credits”.
The clerk fluttered his fingers with dismay. “Only an answer that will cost nothing. I have a family to feed and I’m not that interested”.
“Then wonder all you like…Good day”. Harel and Killa left the hotel and made their way onto the street.
An hour later the boys entered The Grand Avenue of Religious Conviction: a crooked, crowded street that threaded its way through the east side of Stardock. The Friary was on The Grand Avenue amongst the Temples of the Superior Pantheon, past Bistro Street and close to a major intersection with Programmers Lane. Stardock was a righteous city and every denomination had a presence on The Grand Avenue. Mad prophets, friars, celibate madmen, leaping nymphs and screaming long-haired clerics, preachers and Holy men of all descriptions, chanted, prayed, wept, gnashed their teeth, exhorted, praised, screeched, pulled their hair, and otherwise capered on soapboxes and daises along the street. Nonetheless, an informal but strict code of precedence was maintained on the street. The least known or unpopular preachers were gathered on the lower street. As preachers gathered followers, or wealth and recognition (for their particular God or Goddess or pantheon) they moved, metre by metre, up the street, towards the High street and the vast and well-funded Temples of the Superior Pantheon. Sadly, the reverse was also true. Through the centuries, spent or forgotten faiths moved, grudgingly, from the Superior Pantheon, metre by metre back to the lower street, and thence, as the last follower renounced their faith or died, left the city never to be seen again.
Harel gazed with unconcealed interest at the sights of The Grand Avenue. For a few minutes Harel and the koala gawked at a capering but fascinatingly charismatic cleric. About him was a large gathering and his vitriolic diatribe concerned the immorality of modern youth, the wholesomeness of celibacy, the goodness of kittens and the evils of competition. Here was obviously a cleric on his way towards the Superior Pantheon. They left him as he began whipping his back with a three-pronged lash.
Skowbo II, Stardock City: A Friary, the afternoon
Once inside the Friary of the Fractious Frog, the Special Forces operatives were welcomed by a Friary clerk. Harel quickly handed a photo-crystal to the friar who studied the photo image with pursed lips.
Harel waited a moment before he asked: “Have you seen that man? He used to go by the name of KitWarrior…don’t laugh…he was tough and he was mean. We know- he looks fragile and confused, but he was once a blood-thirsty desperado: a boozy killer. We believe he was abducted and sold to one of the many temples here in Stardock- against his will! We want him returned to us”.
The friar controlled his mirth and handed the photo-crystal back. “We have many, many acolytes here who are held against their will. There is no easy escape from the Friary of the Fractious Frog! Yet, did we hold the young man we would gladly have sold him back to you: his mates. Alas, we do not”.
“But have you seen him?”
“Oh yes, I know this person…the ANZACs tried to sell him to us, but they asked too much. I seem to recall they spoke about next trying to sell him to the Holy Order of the Blessed Software”.
The koala rubbed his chin with a sweaty paw. “Thank you for this information. Um, before I go friar, may I ask- what is the Friary’s holy mission in Stardock?”
The friar eyed the koala with an evangelical light in his calculating eyes. “Why, my son, we serve His Gloriousness the High and Mighty Frogboy”. The friar clutched his beads and recited with reverence: “Frogboy debase us. Frogboy direct us. Frogboy admonish us. In your shadow we are insignificant. In your anger we are awed”.
“And do members of your Order, ah, um…”
“We are celibate. Once a man is accepted as an acolyte he must serve His Gloriousness, and of course the Order, for the rest of his life. Alas, so many acolytes eventually go insane that we must constantly seek new recruits to spread our knowledge of the love of His Gloriousness for lesser beings”.
The koala took a step back and pointed a zorcher at Harel. “I have heard enough and I am well pleased. My dearest friend Harel has been yearning to find a beacon to guide his faltering steps. He has all the usual sins and even some out-of-the-ordinary ones. He needs to be saved from himself”.
Harel gasped and looked at the koala in shock. “Killa? Mate? But I thought…”
The friar quickly motioned to some Friary bouncers (they had once been Sumo wrestlers- but that is another story) who grasped Harel and frog-marched him into the depths of the Friary. The friar counted out some silver pieces and handed them to the koala: “Here my son. Your generosity will be rewarded, both in this life and in cyberspace”.
The koala smirked. “I’m sure”. He turned and left, whistling dixie.
Skowbo II, Stardock City: The Holy Order of the Blessed Software, late afternoon
Ginata and Jaws were ushered into the Temple and directed to a large room that contained a garish sign: ‘Holy Order of the Blessed Software Tourism Centre’. A dozen acolytes were providing information to people from across the galaxy who had come to offer their prayers to the usually kind Goddess: Our Holy CariElf Lady of the Blessed Software.
Ginata approached a counter to speak to a tall, young woman dressed in a flowing white gown. The acolyte’s personal music* warbled and pulsed with a feckless melody underlaid by a rasping obligato.
[*Important Note: Every acolyte of the Holy Order was required to surround themselves with music: to project their mood, or to present an ideal version of their personality, or the better to praise the Goddess, who loved music. The ‘personal music’ was produced by an ingenious mechanism called a musicpod (or ‘pod’ for short), programmed by musicologists. Similarly, tourists to the Holy Order were also required to surround themselves with music. But woe to the inexperienced tourist who played inappropriate music or music that offended the Lady of the Blessed Software: for them there was the most extreme punishment and torment. But hey, being a tourist is never easy.]
“Most holy Sister” said Ginata, “we are looking for someone important to us…”
The acolyte brusquely held up her hand. “All such enquiries must be made in writing and taken to the Holy Order of the Blessed Software Enquiry Office which is some distance away. But before you may move around the Temple grounds, you must wear your musicpod”.
The acolyte fixed the musicpod to their shoulders. “This is the selector, which affords you a carefully planned assortment of main themes, including Stately Mien, Joviality, Pensive Dreams, Skylark Song, Receptiveness to Novel ideas, Proud Assertion, Quirky and Original Whimsy, Quest for Love, Verve and Vivacity, Condolences, The Glory of Beauty, and others. These minor toggles can be adjusted for ‘Morning’, ‘Afternoon’, ‘Evening’ and ‘Night’; and this for ‘Solitude’, ‘Boon Companions’, ‘Erotic Proximities’, ‘Crowds’ and so on. If you are interested in theoretical musicology, you may read this pamphlet”.
Ginata and Jaws adjusted their pods to the main theme of ‘Focused Search’ and headed towards the Enquiry Office. Before they had walked more than a few paces, a koala came running up to them, panting. “Guys, I’ve found you! Wait for me!” The koala’s pod was playing ‘Urgent attention’, combined with ‘Afternoon’ and ‘Boon Companions’.
Ginata and Jaws greeted the koala. With a furrowed brow Jaws asked, “Killa, why aren’t you investigating with Harel? Or have you found KitWarrior already?”
The koala shook his head, forlornly. “It’s a bit of a disaster. Harel and I had a tiff and he stormed off. I think he went to the spaceport in order to return to the ship! I thought I’d better join up with you guys rather than look on my own. You know how lonely I get…”
Ginata ruffled the koala’s head: “You do need a lot of attention and positive feedback Killa”. She laughed: “But that’s why you’re so loveable. Would you like some chocolate?”
The koala nodded pathetically: his red eyes gleaming.
The three operatives moved through the crowded corridors of the Temple. Earnest acolytes of the Goddess moved purposefully about, trumpeting a discord of music. After a short while the koala turned to Ginata: “Ginata, I’ve been wondering…”
“Yes?”
“When we find Kit…you two have a history don’t you?”
Ginata blushed and rounded on the small koala. “Don’t ever discuss that! It’s in the past and that’s where it will stay!” She turned her pod from ‘Quirky and Original Whimsy’ to ‘Distressed Melancholy’ and flounced ahead: her music pulsed uncomfortably with a nervous arpeggio. Killa turned to Jaws with half-lidded eyes: “Well what an odd reaction! By the way Jaws, it’s good to see you walking on two legs…”
Jaws glared at the koala. “I thought I told everyone never to say that” he snapped. He turned his personal music to ‘Resentful Animosity’ and ‘Solitude’ (a sharp staccato), and followed Ginata with a grimace. The koala slyly smirked, switched his pod to play a chirpy tune, ‘Capricious and Satisfying Nastiness’, and followed the easily stirred operatives.
Many hours later the trio were slumped on a seat. The Enquiry Office clerk had finally advised them that given the Holy Order’s somewhat high standards, KitWarrior had been rejected for entry to the Holy Order. KitWarrior’s captors had been advised to take him to The Order of the Holy Lady of the Troublesome Hardware: an Order which had lax standards and was generally desperate for any devotees, willing or unwilling. The trio’s music played a lonely lament: ‘Frustrated Desires’.
“I recall that The Order of the Holy Lady of the Troublesome Hardware was on Cypher and Samarai Sam’s list of Temples to investigate”, muttered Ginata.
The koala looked up shyly. “You’re right Ginata, so that means we have time to take a peek at the Goddess CariElf! She’s available every evening for an hour of adulation in the altar vestibule”.
“How would you know that Killa?” asked Jaws, frowning.
“Oh, ah, I read it in the Enquiry Office. Come on, let’s do a quick adulation, donate some chocolate, and then meet up with Cypher and Samarai”.
“And then we can go shopping!” squealed Ginata excitedly.
The koala’s eyes lit up: “I love shopping too”.
Within minutes the trio was at the entrance to the vestibule, which held a score of ecstatic, swaying, chanting acolytes. Their chant: “CariElf guide us. CariElf teach us. CariElf protect us. In your light we thrive. In your wisdom we are humbled” swelled and throbbed in the thickly incensed air.
The koala quickly reached up to the pods of Ginata and Jaws and twiddled the dials. “Guys, we should all play adulation music before entering into the presence of the Goddess. But, damn! My pod has stopped playing- you go in and I’ll follow when I’ve got my pod playing”.
Ginata and Jaws slid into the vestibule and quickly moved to the front of the swaying crowd. Suddenly, a golden light swept the altar and to the swelling throb of ‘Unbridled and Refulgent Grandness’, the Goddess glided before the congregation. The vestibule music stilled and the acolytes ceased their chanting, caught in the grip of a euphoric rapture.
In the suddenly subdued room, a tipsy, sleazy tune could be heard. Ginata and Jaws’ pods were both playing a sexy libretto: ‘Dare I Hope for Undignified Carnality With You’, with ‘Anytime’ and ‘Erotic Proximities’ added. The Goddess dropped her arms and stared at the operatives, icily.
Several acolytes swooned, some squealed, others writhed in horror. Fists were raised and a new chant began: a chant that sang of blood and retribution. The pods of the acolytes began playing a harsh squeal like scratching a blackboard: ‘Abhorrence and Detestation Leading to Ultimate Violence’, ‘Immediately’ and ‘Mob Action’.
The koala calmly closed the vestibule door and walked away, contentedly. The sounds of the riot and lynching were soon left behind. The koala deftly turned his pod to the major theme ‘I’m Just a Poor Misunderstood Bear’ and clicked his fingers to the jaunty beat.
Skowbo II, Stardock City: The Holy Order of the Troublesome Hardware, the next morning
Cypher and Samarai Sam were admitted to the office of Her Holiness KarmaGirl. She took a cigarette out of her mouth and stubbed it in the ashtray. Then grasped her gin bottle and took a quick, but precise swig. Her mascara was blotchy and her roots were showing. She didn’t wear any other make-up. Samarai thought he had never seen a more natural beauty in all his life.
KarmaGirl eyed the stammering Samarai Master for a short while, before glancing at the Bundy Bear and raising her eyebrow. Cypher shrugged. KarmaGirl looked at the report given to her by a lackey. “Says here that you guys want a dude called KitWarrior. Tall, dark, evil, fragile, a pirate. Is this for real?”
Cypher steepled his paws and half closed his eyes. “Kit was all that and more. That is a description of his outward appearance. But it does not do justice to his tender soul, his prodigious capacity to love and be loved, his wry sense of humour, his sharp and hidden intelligence. He was the sum of all men…and we want him back”.
KarmaGirl tittered. “Well I won’t deny he was here for a very long time. But at the lackey level we have a strict policy of…”
“Celibacy?” murmured Cypher.
“Why yes, how did you guess? Anyways, he went a bit loopy as the young ones often do, and we had to let him go. Shame really. After lackeys are promoted, they’re cleansed and rubbed with oils and fed sweet meats and then brought to my … Anyways, that’s a holy secret. Let’s just say there is a little reward for years of devotion at my temple”.
Samarai quivered ever so slightly.
KarmaGirl continued: “Had he been a computer professional we would have kept him of course. My Temple has the Skowbo II hardware contract and we can’t get enough coders and mathematicians. Um, what are your skills by the way?”
Samarai gave a nervous chuckle. “I’m a historian and literary scholar. Cypher is into marketing and advertising”.
KarmaGirl rolled her eyes.
“So where did he go after he was sacked, I mean let go from your Temple?” asked Cypher.
KarmaGirl shrugged. “Onto the street. He was raving by the end. Those sort usually end in the river, one way or another”.
The office door opened and a lackey squirmed into the room, and handed the Goddess a note. KarmaGirl read the note with pursed lips and then scrunched the note and threw it into the bin. With twinkling eyes she rose and gestured to the operatives. “I do have something to show you though: which you will find of interest”. She fluttered her eyelashes at Samarai. Samarai patted his perspiring forehead with a handkerchief.
The Goddess led them through a maze of rooms and corridors into the depths of the Temple. She turned to the operatives and said quietly, “Now you must understand that Skowbo doesn’t have a lot of money. Why, only last year we introduced a microfiche system to replace our card system in all public offices. Unfortunately…” (her hand formed a fist) “…it was botched and cost a fortune in contractors’ fees. But then, I had an idea for a new cheap computer. A computer that can be disciplined and punished…” She laughed: a contralto cackle that began in her throat and ended in her nose. Cypher and Samarai looked at each other uncomfortably.
“Here it is”. The Goddess opened a door. The operatives walked through onto a balcony overlooking a vast subterranean hall. In the hall were endless lines of desks and seats. Sitting at the desks were pale men and women chained to their chairs, scribbling equations and calculations on paper, or tapping at abacuses.
Cypher turned to KarmaGirl with a look of horror. She cackled again: “There you see functions and multipliers and calculators and higher mathematicians. They all have a part to play in the workings of the Great Machine. And the two of you will also be souls in the Great Machine. Work well and you will be rewarded. But fail me, and feel the whip”.
Guards appeared and lowered their plasma zorchers at the operatives: they were quickly chained and led away. Cypher looked back and yelled, “How did you find out we were computer professionals? How? Was it that note you were given during our meeting?”
KarmaGirl laughed again for she was a very happy Goddess. “Let’s just say that a little furry friend whispered in my ear. And after all, we girls stick together. At least, when it suits us”.
The Goddess was the last female face the operatives saw for a very long time. For promotions were slow, very slow, in the service of Stardock’s Great Machine.
Skowbo II, Stardock City: The Grand Avenue
When Killa met Quack and Hurley, they were strolling along The Grand Avenue of Religious Conviction.
Killa sighed with relief. “I thought I’d never find you! Stardock is so big”.
Hurley greeted the koala with a smile. “I’ve never been to Skowbo before. Stardock is fascinating, in an annoying sort of way. We’ve just been harangued by some mad man about kittens, cutlasses, double-crosses and evil, red-eyed koalas. He thinks he’s a prophet or something”. Quack and Hurley chuckled: the koala joined in.
“Where was this mad man?” asked the koala with slight interest.
“Quite near the Superior Pantheon actually. Had quite a crowd about him…”
The koala nodded. “He’s a mover: he’ll have his own Temple this time next year”.
Hurley shook his head in wonder. “Ah! Well, we’ve had no luck in our search. KitWarrior has disappeared without a trace. Shame really. The Special Forces would have suited his gentle quirkiness”.
The koala looked into the distance. “I’ve spoken to the others: they’ve returned to the spaceport. I sent Harel on too”. He turned and looked up at Hurley and Quack. “So now we can quickly check out the greatest wine shop in the galaxy Hurls. I swear Hurls, the rarest and best wines in the galaxy for next to nothing! And free delivery anywhere in the sector! But first I need to show Quack something. Here’s the address Hurls”. The koala handed Hurley a piece of paper. “I’ll see you there shortly”.
The koala rubbed his paws together. “Now Quack, I have something to show you that will take your breath away, literally”.
Quack clapped his wings together. “Oh I love surprises! Is it a delicious beer? Or maybe an aviary? Or perhaps a quaint duck pond…”
Hurley watched Killa and Quack walk through the crowded street until they disappeared from view. There was something very odd about the chance meeting with Killa. But Hurley couldn’t quite put his finger on what was wrong. Was it the high heels? Hurley searched his memory: but he just couldn’t remember if Killa usually wore red high heels. And didn’t Killa have green eyes rather than red eyes? Hurley threw his hands in the air in frustration. It was all too difficult: he had a wine shop to check out. Hurley studied the address of the wine shop and the handwritten map given to him by Killa. With determination, Hurley headed towards Backstabbers Lane at the intersection of Murderers Alley.
Skowbo II, Stardock City: Somewhere, sometime later, cornered
Quack turned at the open window: there was no escape. The sound of a busy street came from below. The duck visibly shuddered with a range of emotions that even he could not well define.
“Quacky. You know that I can give you something you’ve never had before”.
Quack blanched. His nose started to run in terror… or anticipation: it is difficult to read emotions on a duck’s face.
The koala said, “That’s right…requited love. And I have so much love to give”.
“This can’t be happening to me…”
“Yes, yes, my Quacky. It is unbelievable. Yet this is a moment we’ll always look back on and savour. Our first true liaison. And then, together. Forever”.
“But, but, but, but…”
“I know my dear heart. My head is as big as a planet: my intellect drowns you. But I know we can work it out, I shan’t kill you softly with my song”.
“But Killa…”
“Fear not Quacky. Koalas and ducks can get it on….don’t swoon dearest. We have all the time in the world, and then some. And I’m Killetta, dear. I even have your favourite red dress on”.
The koala stepped out of her trousers and unbuttoned her shirt. A short red dress and golden velour top were revealed.
Quack held his wing to his beak with his eyes as big as saucers: “Oh my heavens, no. No! Killa? Killetta? Killa? Killetta? Killa? Killetta? Killa? Killetta? This is a dream!”
“Oh, it’s no dream Quacky…”
With a shrill squeak, Quack staggered back and crashed through the window. He plummeted three floors to the street far below.
Killetta rushed to the window, screaming “Quacky, Quacky! Nooooooooooooo!”
Quack’s broken body lay on the street for a long minute, and then, miraculously, he agonizingly levered himself up onto one broken wing. His little beak quivered. He began to inch his way across the road. And then a truck stacked with beer kegs ran over him. His tiny body twitched and was still.
“Quacky?” sobbed Killetta at the broken window, as she looked down forlornly. After a minute she sighed and turned away. After all, life moves on. And there were plenty of men out there, and she had made so many friends on the internet. So many, many friends. She shuddered with anticipation. She shook her head one last time: “And we all knew that beer would kill the duck eventually”.
Epitaph for a duck
Wombie and Killa peered through the one-way mirror. The padded room was stark and white and in a funny way, quite cheerful.
Killa pursed his lips. “Will he recover?”
Wombie flicked a tear from his eye. “He’ll walk one day. Perhaps even talk. But he’ll never fly and he’s lost his mind utterly. Dr Quinn says he’ll never use a keyboard again”.
“Then his crushed wings are…?”
“The amputation is tonight”.
Killa put his paw to his mouth and closed his eyes. He groaned: “Killetta has destroyed another life- and he was so young, so vibrant. So much to live for…” He punched the wall with pent up feeling.
Wombie sighed. “We’ve also lost Harel and Ginata and Jaws and Cypher and Samarai and Hurley”.
Killa wearily nodded. “But they had lived full lives…Quack was the innocent of the team”.
They studied Quack for a few more minutes, before leaving. They hurried down the corridor: the Anger Management Focus Group began in a few minutes and Wombie felt that it was important for the least irascible members of the Special Forces (and hence the least in need of guidance) to also make an appearance.
As they walked, Killa nudged Wombie and said, “But life goes on Wombie. My wine appreciation and piano recital evening is still going ahead…Quack would have wanted it so. What are you doing over the weekend?”
Wombie perked up and his eyes were glowing as he turned to the koala. “You’ll never guess. I’ve got a blind date! I’ve been chatting to this stunning femme fatale on the internet and she wants to see me in the flesh. I’ve arranged to go to her place for a chianti…”
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#15
by Veteran MM77 - 2/8/2004 7:05:20 AM
Hope you liked that one heres one for Exar Kuun
From DJ MM77 A BEATLES REMAKE.yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!
Picture yourself on the road to the Temple,
With musicpods blearing there mothatic sounds.
Somebody calls you, you answer quite slowly,
a Elf with kaleidoscope eyes
Chocolate covered flowers growing here at the green,
Towering over you head.
Look for the Elf with the sun in her eyes
And she's gone!
Exar Kuun will you help me find the goddess.
Exar Kuun will you help me find the goddess.
Exar Kuun will you help me find the goddess.
Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
Exar Kuun will you help me find the goddess.
Exar Kuun will you help me find the goddess.
Exar Kuun will you help me find the goddess.
Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
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#20
by Veteran MM77 - 2/8/2004 7:11:24 PM
Exar Kuun: Very risque but cool MM77
MM77: Rest Assured thats as far as I'll take
tongue in cheek ( No pun ment ) in the Temple walls,
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#21
by Veteran MM77 - 2/8/2004 7:20:36 PM
damoose, damoose, damoose
I LOVE saying
damoose, damoose, damoose
Forgive me for this mental breakdown PLEASE.
damoose, damoose, damoose
damoose, damoose, damoose
damoose, damoose, damoose
damoose.....
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#23
by Veteran MM77 - 2/8/2004 7:40:32 PM
What song!
To ALL leave ever 25th open for the INDEX.
Thank You.
[Message Edited]
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