To:ALL From:FLIPPER Date:1 Jan 1993 - Try and keep the noise down, will ya? OK... since this base has received so little use, and because the so-called moderator has decided other things are more important, and finally because I'm a greedy son-of-a-bitch and have wanted my own area for some time, I'm takin' over this here base. Now, because I enjoy them so much, I intend to turn this base into a NES, (Never-Ending Story). There is no obligation for anyone to write in it, but everyone is welcome to. Just a few simple guidelines: -maintain some semblance of continuity! Read to the end before you add to it! -it isn't a porno NES. Sexual references are accepted, but should not dominate nor be the point of your entry -don't post message chatter in here anymore. If you want to discuss the story please use a different base. -anything else I can think of as we go along. For anyone not used to writing in a NES, you might want to just watch and see before you start. If this means I end up writing to myself for a while... oh well, no matter. If this idea fails miserably it's not going away anyway, so you might as well enjoy it! I, myself, will be continuing with the character I used to use in a couple of other NESs... To:ALL From:FLIPPER Date:1 Jan 1993 - Try and keep the noise down, will ya? "If you'll just, uh, move this way, sir." The young man in the light blue coveralls helped Flipper out of his limo and escorted him across a vast parking lot towards a wide gateway. A sign arcing over the gateway announced "Flipper's Oceanarium", and large tanks could be seen inside the gates, and sounds of aquatic animals at play. Flipper paused to admire the handiwork of the entrance. It was his life-long dream to own his own oceanarium, and now he finally had it. He paused to reflect on the circumstances leading up to it... The sun had dawned bright and early in a crystal blue sky, but Flipper hadn't noticed. Birds were singing in the distance, and there was a general feeling of contentment in the air. Flipper hadn't noticed that either. What he had noticed was that he was rather bruised, and that an amazingly large building complex housing gambling houses and more within which he had been residing, had vanished with barely a murmur. Flipper noted that he still had his winnings from the casino, and, while not an incredibly huge amount, it was substantial enough to last him for some time. But a worried thought had entered Flipper's mind. He didn't know what he would do when the money ran out. Having never been homeless before, he never thought about planning for the future. He decided then and there he would make sure he always had a place to call home. There wasn't really much Flipper was suited for as far as work went. His blue-grey skin, elongated snout and perpetual smile betrayed that he wasn't human, yet he was not quite a dolphin either. (Although, if asked, would definitly class himself a dolphin.). But Flipper had a shrewd mind, and through a series of good investments (and some admittedly lucky ones) he had finally amassed enough money to open his oceanarium. To:ALL From:FLIPPER Date:1 Jan 1993 - Try and keep the noise down, will ya? "...you around now?" The young man's voice startled Flipper back to the present. "Huh?" asked Flipper. "Would you like me to show you around now?" repeated the young man. "Oh!" replied Flipper. "Yes, let's go. I can't wait to see how it all looks!" They went around to the various tanks and observation windows, pausing to look. The young man wrote down Flipper's occasional comments in a small notebook to be taken care of later. "And what's in this tank?" asked Flipper as they approached one of the final tanks. "Well, that's the dolphins, sir!" Flipper went over to the side wall of the tank and looked in. Several young bottlenose dolphins looked back up and chattered at him. Flipper chattered back for a few seconds, then turned to the man. "Got a fish?" he asked. The man opened a small compartment in the wall and brought out a container. Inside was the day's feeding for the dolphins. Flipper tossed each one a fish before taking one for himself and returning the container to it's receptivle. "Just one more, sir, and then we're done for the day," commented the man as they approached a rather large tank. "What's in here?" asked Flipper as he peered through an observation window. "These are my favorite, sir," said the young man with unhidden enthusiasm. "Oh?" Flipper peered around some more, but didn't see anything. Suddenly a large black and white shape appeared and swam towards the window. Flipper leapt back in terror. "Killer whales!" he screamed. To:ALL From:FLIPPER Date:1 Jan 1993 - Try and keep the noise down, will ya? "Relax, sir," advised the man. "They're gentle as can be! Come on, let them kiss you. Come on up here." "No thank you," stated Flipper deliberately, in a quivering voice. "I think we're done for the day." "There's no need to be afraid! I trained these babies myself." "I said that's enough!" warned Flipper. "Show me to my quarters." The man sighed, visibly disappointed. "Yes, sir," he sighed. He hopped down from the trainer's deck and led Flipper to a large building near the rear of the park. He handed a key to Flipper who then opened the door and went inside. He turned on a light to reaveal a small office with a door on the far wall. Flipper knew from the building plans he had seen that the door led to his living quarters. "Well, sir," said the man, "I guess that's all then. I've got to go finish training and feeding the animals for today, to be ready for opening tomorrow." "I didn't catch your name," hinted Flipper. The man beamed up at him. "Wayne," he said, "Wayne Mitchell." "You're the head trainer around here, Wayne?" prompted Flipper. Wayne looked confused. "Sir, I'm the ONLY trainer!" Flipper looked shocked. "We have close to 100 animals, and you are the only one feeding and training them? How do you manage?" "Well, sir, I have a schedule worked out that allows me to do 14 shows a day, then I can do extra training at night." He paused for a moment. "It is kind of hard, I guess, but I rather enjoyed it." "You'll be run down in a week!" exclaimed Flipper. He looked around. "Well, put up a help wanted sign for tomorrow. If anyone applies, send them to see me. I want to personally check out anyone who'll be working with the animals. For now, you better get going." "Right, sir." Wayne made a note. "Have a good night," he called as he left. Flipper sighed and shut the door behind Wayne. "I hope this understaffing doesn't cause any problems," he sighed. He went through the door and wandered through his new home until he found the living room. He located a switch on the wall and turned it. Suddenly the floor of the living room began to sink, simultaneously filling with warm water. When it had stopped sinking Flipper descended into it and sat back to relax, the top of his head just barely out of the water. To:WHOEVER From:FERAL FERRET Date:Uhh, it's New Years Hangover day. Whee. (Jan. 1st for the obtuse.) "Greeeeaaaaaaat," he subvocalized, casting a dark glare about him. He stood in front of some rather impressive-looking edifice which appeared just across the street from a casino run by a skeleton. "More Plot-Devices in action," he thought with purest black disgust. "Fuck it," he said with a shrug, storming in the building, completely ignoring the stares of a middle-aged lady who appeared to be shocked by a sudden outburst of crudity. "IS THERE A DAMNED BAR IN THIS JOINT OR WHAT?!" he bellowed, fingering an exceptionally long knife that hung by his side. Without even waiting for an answer, he dug a bottle from his backpack, bit the glass top off, and began guzzling the contents, right then and there, in the main hall. To:ANYONE WITH AN ATTITUDE. From:PHANTOM Date:Uhh, it's New Years Hangover day. Whee. (Jan. 1st for the obtuse.) The sun slowly dipped down behind some yonder mountains, dowsing Flipper's Oceanarium, along with two other occupants, one bathing peacefully, the other munching contendedly on glass, with a peaceful red beam of dying sunlight, which slowly wavered in intensity. Soon, all was dark, and the stars began reveal themselves from their heavenly hide-outs. It was a peaceful night. One could sit and listen to the sounds of the frogs croaking, the water slowly gurgling in a nearby stream, the crickets cricketing.... That is, if one was somehow able to tune out the horrible noise of screeching metal that could be heard rising over the hill closest to the Oceanarium. The sound of metal rubbing together rose in pitch and fury, the pain of it's call only broken by the louder cries of the hundreds of furry forest animals that were fleeing from the sound making profound "Eek" sounds... Soon, the source of the noise arose over the hill and stopped, framed by the sun as it overlooked the oceanarium a scant kilometre away. Gathering up it's long black cloak, the figure (for that is what it appeared to be), metallically ground it's way slowly towards the front entrance. Arriving at the front entrance, the figure stretched it's slightly rusted metallic hands (That and the heavily rusted legs being the source of the hideous sounds), up to it's hood, and pulled it down, revealing a very pale, yellowy object that one could only assume was supposed to be a head... Save for the fact that it had no discernable facial features, save the eyes and the mouth which had apparently been crudely drawn on in brown crayon. Apparently steeling itself (No pun intended), the figure glanced at a piece of paper entitled "Employment Application", and containing such information as it's name (Mr. Pinrut), and the position being applied for (Head Gardener), Mr. Pinrut placed his hand on the door, and pushed it open, allowing him to enter into the Oceanarium... A person passing by could remember little about the strange figure, but later on, upon questioning, did recall that the figure seemed to muttering something like "I sure hope I don't have to spend too much time in the sun like my last job... I'd hate to over-ripen..." To:EVERYONE AND ANYONE From:FLIPPER Date:2 JAN 1993... only 387 days until I'm done... maybe. Flipper was stretched out on a special couch in his submerged living room, sleeping peacefully while surfacing occasionally to breathe. He had ensured his living room would be specially designed to lower and submerge itself in warm seawater so that he could fully relax. And he was relaxed, feeling fully at home already. He knew he had to get a good rest, for the first full day of being open to the public was bound to be hectic. He peacefully dreamt of drifting in the open sea. Suddenly an annoyingly loud buzzer rudely woke him from his dream. He looked over at a digital time display. 4am. He swam over to the far end of is living room where his emergency intercom was located. Flipper had wanted to be alerted at any sign of trouble, so the intercoms were located all over the oceanarium complex. "What!?" blurted Flipper at the intercom. "Sorry to bother you, Sir," Wayne's voice came back. I just got in for the morning feeding, and, well, I think you should come down to the main lobby and see for yourself!" Flipper moaned to himself. Trouble already? "I'll be right there," he promised. He then back to the steps leading up and out of the living room, and activated the floor control. The floor began to quietly rise up, draining itself through almost indiscenable drain holes, and large ducts at the sides. Soon the floor was level with the hall, and Flipper turned to go to the main hall. Wayne met him at the entrance to the lobby. "You said to contact you if anything odd happened. It's kind of hard to explain." Flipper nodded at him and entered the lobby to look around. Standing stock still in the centre of the lobby was a figure in a dark cloak. He turned to face Flipper as he entered, making high-pitched screeching noises. Flipper stared at him. Wayne spoke up. "There's that, sir, and then there's him." Wayne pointed against a wall where a slumped figure leaned against a wall. Several bottles with the top broken off were strewn around him. Flipper cringed as he eyed the long knife attached to the man's belt. "What the..." asked Flipper in disbelief. To:A LITTLE MORE... From:FLIPPER Date:2 JAN 1993... only 387 days until I'm done... maybe. "He's stone drunk, sir," said Wayne, indicating the slumped figure, "and he wants a job," he pointed at the cloaked figure. Flipper shook his head, and looked at a large wall clock. 4:20am. "Well," started Flipper, "go put that guy in one of the guest rooms, and clean up the bottles. We can't have that for opening. I'll deal with the job interview." "OK, sir," said Wayne. "Then I've got to go feed the animals!" "Right," agreed Flipper. Eyeing the slumped man, he added, "And put that knife somewhere where he won't do any daamage with it." He turned to the cloaked figure. "Please come with me, Mr...?" The cloaked figure began to follow Flipper. It spoke a name, but the incredible screech of grinding metal drowned it out. Wayne clutched his ears, but Flipper, accustomed to high-pitched sounds, made a mental note to find this guy some oil. Soon they reached Flipper's office, where they sat down. The sudden absense of loud scraping sounds was conspicously noticeable, so Flipper leapt right into the interview. "So, you'd like to work for me?" he inquired. "I want to be a gardener," replied the figure. Flipper paused. "A gardener?" he repeated. "Yes. Even aquatic mammals need a balanced diet. I will grow vegetables." "Uh," began Flipper. Since he couldn't think of anything else, he said "Uh," again. Finally he spoke. "We don't need a gardener. Would you like to be a trainer?" TO:FLIPPER From:FERAL FERRET Date:2 JAN 1993... only 387 days until I'm done... maybe. Reply to 183 He looked about him in confusion. Apparently, there was another person didn't look a little bit like him, but whom some largish dolphin had become confused by. He dug another bottle of liquor from his pack, his second-to-last one, bit the top off it reflectively, and began to drink. When he finished the cola, he ground the glass between his teeth and swallowed the top. After about a half hour of sitting alone in a dark, musty corner of the main hall, the caffeine began to kick in. In pure reflex, he began eating all the empty bottles, just to satisfy his sudden outburst of hunger. He looked around him with newly enhanced senses, and saw a small man looking at him nervously. "The green ones are my favourite!" he said, waving an empty bottle of Nitro with the top bitten off. The small man cringed and walked away. He rolled his eyes in faint disgust. "Nice. Gotta do something about the management here." To:MR. INTERVIEWER... From:PHANTOM Date:2 JAN 1993... only 387 days until I'm done... maybe. Mr. Pinrut, admiring the look of the luxurious office around him, paused to reflect on the dilemna put before him. He had spent his life wandering throughout Tibet, learning the secrets of 'The Zen of Veggies'. Painstaking work, let me tell you... Worn down by the hot sun... Surrounded by biting insects... Constantly pursued by packs of wild dogs... It was an experience that few would've been able to survive. But Mr. Pinrut, he was special. He knew that his sole purpose in life was to garden, and he was not ready to back down from the challenge put before him. After countless years of research, which put him at the head of the gardening field of Tibet, Mr. Pinrut chose to return home, to use his newfound knowledge for the benefit of all. Unfortunately, upon reaching his destination, he was horrified to find that most interviews tended to go much like this one did (Unless the interviewer, upon seeing him, ran of screaming wildly, their eyes rolling up into their heads in fear). Mr. Pinrut had had enough! No longer was he going to allow himself to be pushed around by these non-sensitive carnivores!! Mr. Pinrut had rights!! MR. PINRUT WAS A GARDENER!!! Now decided on his frame of mind, he slowly turned a wary, crayon drawn eye towards the dolphin sitting before him. Slowly he extended what should have been a hand from his cloak, but was instead a metal claw tipped with razor sharp nails, and began scratching intricate designs on the dolphin's desk (Mr. Pinrut wuz here: 01/03/92). "Ummm.... Well, you see... I'm not very good with animals, and well.... Water tends to do bad things to my limbs.... I'm much better with vegetables you see. Much more comfortable. Besides, animals need ruffage don't they? I think they do. A good salad can do wonders for the digestive tract you know..." Mr. Pinrut's voice got quieter and quieter throughout the speech, eventually ending it in a whisper. Mr. Flipper, who had to lean over his desk just to catch the last sentence, seemed to notice a reddish tinge on Mr. Pinrut's pale, yellowish, waxy face... To:EVERYONE, AND THEN SOME From:FLIPPER Date:January 3, 1993. Do you want to become a Jewish Monk and move to Sweeden? Flipper sighed. He watched with abstract curiosity as Mr Pinrut squeakily defaced his varnished oak desk, and looked the, er, man in the, uh, face. "Mr Pinrut," he began, "this is an oceanarium, after all. The main part of most of our diets is fish. Salads just don't appear in the ocean too often." Flipper paused, noting the disappointment emanating from the being. He thought about the vast park and the people who would soon be arriving for the opening. He got an idea. "We don't need a gardener. But we do need someone to handle landscaping and grounds maintenance. If you wanted to get creative with those little bushes that you can shape, and take care of the trees and grass area, I can offer you that. Pick up the odd piece of litter, maybe. Other than that..." Flipper paused. Suddenly there was a wailing, moaning sound. It seemed to come from a small ornamental blue whale on Flipper's desk. "Excuse me," said Flipper, picking up the whale. He held it at the side of his head and spoke into the tail. "Hello? What's up?" There was a moment of silence, then Flipper nodded. "Right. Ok, I'll be right there." He put down the whale and turned to Mr Pinrut. "Well, it seems my employee has finished the feeding, and I've got to go help get ready for the official opening ceremonies. So, Mr. Pinrut, you're free to wander around and consider my offer, and meet me back here after the ceremony to finish the interview." Flipper stood up and exitted the office. There was a screeching of metal as Mr Pinrut watched him leave. Flipper made another mental note about oil. To: YES, I LIKE BREAKING IT INTO SMALLER CHUNKS From:FLIPPER Date:January 3, 1993. Do you want to become a Jewish Monk and move to Sweeden? Flipper met Wayne out at the dolphin tank. Flipper had insisted that this was a good place to do his opening speech, and Wayne didn't protest, although Flipper knew he'd rather see it at the killer whale tank. They spent the next several hours setting up a small podium and some banners. It was 8:30 when they finished. Flipper glanced at the time. "OK, Wayne. Go put up a sign in the main lobby telling people the speech is here at 11am, and make sure everything is open and ready." He paused for a minute. "Then go to the hardware store and get a tin of oil. If that creature decides to work here we'll have to stop his grinding. Did you get rid of that drunk?" Wayne nodded. "Sort of. He woke up half way to the guest room and ran off yelling. I chased him off the grounds." Flipper nodded back. "Ok... uh, we do have people to take money and run the gift shops and concessions, don't we?" "Oh yes," said Wayne. "All that was taken care of, er, except for one position." Flipper rolled his eyes. "Oh, great. What position?" Wayne shuffled his feet. "There isn't anyone to work in the 'Undersea Lounge'." "Great," fumed Flipper. The Undersea Lounge was a bar of sorts, located under the main building, with large windows looking into a special community tank. Flipper had been especially proud of it's design, and had placed strict requirements on the bartender who would work there. "Did anyone apply?" asked Flipper. "Several, but only one was fully qualified." "What happened to him?" "He's afraid of being underwater, sir. One look at your layout and he left." Flipper closed his eyes and murmured something unintelligable. "You'd better get going," he added. Wayne jogged off to open everything up and check on the positions. Flipper headed down to his lounge to relax for a while. To:THE BEST CHUNKS ARE THE CHOCOLATE CHUNKS! From:PHANTOM Date:January 3, 1993. Do you want to become a Jewish Monk and move to Sweeden? Flipper got up from his seat and quickly left the room, leaving an overjoyed Mr. Pinrut to his thoughts and dreams of glory. "Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy!!! I get a whole huge planting ground all to myself!!! YES!!! After years of struggling and soul-searching, I have finally found.... .... Oops...." Mr. Pinrut stood silently looking over the remains of what was his boss's whale-phone. "Oh dear. I don't think he'll appreciate that! I guess I'll just have to fix it.." Wayne, who just happened to walk by (carrying a can of oil) Flipper's office half an hour later stopped slowly, sniffing the air, as if he could detect a faint whiff of smoke. Turning towards the door, he began reaching for the doorknob when suddenly the door burst open, letting a huge puff of smoke burst into the hallway, followed by a slightly blacker looking Mr. Pinrut. Mr. Pinrut, upon seeing Wayne staring at him with a slightly open mouth, slowly closed the door behind him and leaned against it in a very relaxed manner. "Ummm... Don't worry Mr.... ummm...Mr. Wayne-sir. It's nothing, just a little mechanical difficulty, but it's all fixed now, really!!" Wayne's look of disbelief slowly changed into a look of distrust, which seemed to make Mr. Pinrut slightly nervous (He began clenching and unclenching his sweaty.... claws). "No really, everything is fine. Just give it about an hour or so to clear up... It's nothing, really!!!" Wayne leaned forward, raising his finger to it's lecturing position, ready to show this Mr. Pinrut where he belonged, but Mr. Pinrut quickly cut him off. Pointing over Wayne's shoulder and staring, Mr. Pinrut yelled in an excited voice, "hey look!!! One of the killer whales is doing a George Bush impression!!!" Wayne whipped around, searching the hallways for this fabled whale impressionist that could bring him much fame and fortune, only to find the hallway empty. Likewise, when Wayne whipped around again, there was no sign of Mr. Pinrut, execept for a puff of smoke slowly dispersing in the lights, and a faint sound of metallic creaking moving down a nearby hallway... Mr. Pinrut ran like the wind, albeit a very weak and foul smelling wind, but still a wind... Zig-zagging up and down numerous random hallways, he rounded a corner of a hallway t find himself in a dead end, with the only exit being a door at the end of it. Still running/shuffling, he ran up to the door and burst through it, pausing only a moment to acknowledge the slight resistance to it's opening and the muffled "OW!!" and a thump coming from behind it. Quickly closing the door behind him, he pressed his head to the door listening for pursuit. Hearing nothing, he turned around to observe the room. The room was a small one, containing a single chair, which was pulled up to a massive electronics system consisting of hundreds of dials and switches, and what seemed to be ten or fifteen television screens. Also, just behind the door, there was a guy lying on the ground, with a doorknob like imprint found in between his ribs. He seemed to be sleeping. Mr. Pinrut leaned forward curiosly toward the console, staring at the television pictures. They seemed to be portraying pictures of the Oceanarium, and one of them even had Flipper in it, as well as what seemed to be a huge mass of people.... His observing of the happening in television land was shattered when a walkee-talkee which was sitting on the console suddenly began speaking...: "C'mon Gary! Where the hell are those lights!?!? Don't bother answering, just give me the damn lights!!!" Mr. Pinrut paused, trying to gauge the situation. He obviously didn't know which switch was which, but it couldn't be that hard, and after all, this guy seemed rather upset, and it seemed like too much trouble to wake up poor Gary, who must be having life rough if he weas sleeping on the job. Shrugging his shoulders, Mr. Pinrut reached for one of the fifty or so swicthes that were under the title of 'Lights'.... To:THE BIG CHUNK OF FUUUUUUUDGE. From:FERAL FERRET Date:Sweden, you illiterate fool! SWEDEN! Argh! (January 3rd, 1993) Steiner glared about the area again. For some weird reason, he found himseimself outside in the miserable cold once again. To:DISASTER AFTER DISASTER... WHAT'S NEXT? From:FLIPPER Date:4 Jan 93 - So Shumway couldn't spell. It's odd, normally he can. Flipper got up and walked behind the bar to mix himself another drink. He idn't know what he was drinking, but he had found that if he mixed lots of different stuff, and drank it quickly, he didn't notice if it tasted good or not. He poured amounts of eight or nine different bottles into his beer mug and guzzled it down. Suddenly the lights began to flicker and fizzle. The community tank surrounding the room began to flash with different colours of lights. Flipper looked down at the bottles he had mixed and attempted to read the alcohol content. He didn't have much luck, as this was his third mug, and the lights weren't helping. Then a loud buzzing began. Flipper tilted his head, wondering what it was. Slowly, recognition inched into his mind, and he heard the emergency intercom. He went over to the box mounted behind the bar and hit the activate key. "Yeah?" he asked. "What now?" "We have a bit of a problem, sir. Actually, a couple of them." Flipper sobered up a little, realizing he wasn't as drunk as he thought, since he had a problem to deal with. "No kidding?" he asked sarcastically. "Well, sir, one problem is the lights." Flipper nodded slowly, as if absorbing the new information. "Ok, you're going to check the light room?" "Yes. The other problem is, well, it's your office." Flipper snapped to attention. "My office? What's wrong with it?" "You'd better see for yourself, sir. But it isn't pretty. I'm off to check the light control room." The intercom clicked off. Flipper closed his eyes and leaned back, falling over the bar. He picked himself up and walked to his office, shaking his head. "Mom was right. I shoulda stayed with the pod." To:MY OFFICE, MY OFFICE! From:FLIPPER Date:4 Jan 93 - So Shumway couldn't spell. It's odd, normally he can. Flipper moved somewhat quickly through the building toward his office. Somewhere along the way he noticed a man with a backpack and an exceptionally long knife strapped to his side, but the details didn't click in until much later. His office door was open, and there was no saving grace of a closed door to give him time to prepare. Besides the thinning black smoke that filled the room, Flipper could see that just about everything was covered with a layer of soot. Everything, that is, except his desk, which appeared to have been bombed. There were splinters everywhere. And of course, everything that had been ON the desk was also scattered. A pen had been thrown with enough force to smash through the glass on his framed photo of Carolina Snowball, the only known albino dolphin, and stick in the wall. He removed the pen carefully, but the picture was ruined. Suddenly he heard a strange chirping, warbling sound. Searching, he eventually located the source where his desk had once been. A greyish blob of plastic, with a roughly cylindrical shape, attached to a cord. Upon close examination, Flipper thought it looked a little like his whale phone, or what it might look like if it broke, blew up, was burned, and hastily reassembled. He picked it up. "Hello?" he said into it with disbelief. "This is Johnny Howitzer from CWOW radio! We'd like to come down and cover your opening special with a live radio broadcast!" "Sure, whatever," said Flipper without much enthusiasm. He put the blob phone back down, and sat down in the middle of his office to think. A clock bonged out 10am. TO:FLIPPER From:FERAL FERRET Date:Fourth of January. Feral Ferret registers his disbelief at Shumway. Reply to 191 Steiner fought off a mental swarm of bad aborted messages, which buzzed him like miniature P51s, Browning machineguns spewing rows of tracers, incendiary shells, and armour piercers as they strafed his campsight. Fortunately, he had erected his Tent-O-Matic, and the weaponry of the enemy fighters was useless. [he casually stepped out of the way of a van with radio slogans pasted on the side, which had come buzzing down the road and screeching to a halt in front of some building] Steiner whipped out his ack-acks, and opened fire. An enemy plane lost bits of it's elevators, and began wobbling in mid-air. [he discreetly stabbed the rear tire of the van with his knife, causing the tire to deflate] Setting the defences on auto, he climbed into his trusty Fokker biplane, fired up the engine, and took off. [he bit the top off a bottle of something unidentifiable, poured the contents out on the floor, then began eating the bottle absent-mindedly] He was being buzzed by the P51's again. The enemy, having figured out his ruse, stopped attacking the campsite and began attacking his Fokker instead. [he spat some fragments of glass at some teenie-bopper who thought he was tough] He reached down and mashed a big red button labelled, "Absolutely utterly secret device that nobody knows about, not even the Germans in World War I who designed this plane" [he began lapping up some of the drink that spilled on the floor, then spat it out in disgust, straightening his lapels and trying to look suave. It was gin.] The plane coughed out the engine and the rear control surfaces shifted. The plane now resembled a tube. [he found the rest of the bottle, and ate it.] An engine materialized out of nowhere. It was a powerful scramjet engine, and it immediately took the Fokker past Mach 1.3. [he found another bottle and tried eating it, but gave up in disgust: plastic.] He managed to shoot down three of the P51s, and the rest retreated. [he ate the metal cap of the bottle anyway, and doused his aching head with the vodka, and tossed the plastic bottle away.] Victory assured, he landed his plane. [he found a corner inside the building, and slumped, just barely conscious.] To:MY BIG TOE ON MY LEFT FOOT: MELVIN BE HE. From:PHANTOM Date:Fourth of January. Feral Ferret registers his disbelief at Shumway. Wayne rushed down the hallways toward the control room, trying to figure out why he chose this line of work over what seemed to me a much more promising career in turtle painting. Rounding the last corner he wrenched the doorknob viciously and virtually rammed the door in, eliciting another muffled thump and a high-pitched shriek from the other side of it. Rather then investigating that, however, he found his attention caught on the console, which seemed to have every light and dial flashing bright red.... and in front of it sat a very familiar looking cloaked figure, who slowly spun around on his chair to look at him. Caught off guard by the huge, innocent smile that seemed to be recently drawn on Mr. Pinrut's face, Wayne was unable to sort out his jumbled thoughts that were racing through his mind, much like a flies on a new-found road kill. Mr. Pinrut meekly raised a hand... claw... well... a metal handy type thingie, "Ummm.... Uh, hi. Nice weather eh? Perfect day for a ceremony don't you think...?" At this point Mr. Pinrut began nervously twiddling his mechanical thumbs, and most assuredly would have began whistling, if he had lips. Stoppinh his thumb-twiddling, he slowly pointed over Wayne's shoulder, "Gee, that's a nice lobster you've got hanging from the back of your head, is it real? Where'd you get it? I'd love to...." At this point, Wayne's eyes rolled up into his head, and he began groping the back of his head for the elusive lobster. Think of the fame! A new fashion trend, started by him! He could market clothes, toys, records, cars... Finding nothing, Wayne's eyes and hands slowly lowered back to their normal place.... revealing a room empty of anything, except for a slowly swivelling chair, some flashing red lights, and a techie retching behind the door... * * * A squirrel slowed near the base of a large evergreen on the Oceanarium grounds and began sniffing the air cautiously. As it looked up into the tree, a muffled "Go away you stupid fur-bag!" was heard from the tree. Perking it's ears in interest, the squirrel slowly inched forward, looking for the source of the noise. Periodically it stopped, taking the opportunity to dodge a pinecone flung in it's direction, as well as ignoring more muffled "Go away!"'s and "Shoo!"'s. The squirrel reached the base of the tree and looked up, just in time to permit it to squeal in fear and bristle slightly, as a 175 pound Mr. Pinrut fell out of the tree and pancaked himself on top of the poor squirrel. Now dazed, Mr Pinrut struggled to his feet, muttered a, "Thanks a lot you stupid flea-farm", and then wandered aimlessly throughout the grounds, not noticing that there seemed to be a black furry rodent imbedded in his chest. To:THE GUY WHO TRASHED MY OFFICE-I HOPE YOU'RE HAPPY NOW. From:FLIPPER Date:January 5, 1993. Gimme back my god damned DUCK!!!!!!' Flipper continued to sit in the middle of his blackened office, staring into his punctured pictureof the albino dolphin. His grey blobular phone began wailing and chirping erratically. Flipper ignored it. He knew it was only Wayne calling to remind him he had only fifteen minutes before he had to make his opening day speech. He sighed. Wayne was such a dedicated employee. It seemed he really cared about the quality of his work. Ten minutes later the emergency buzzer began sounding. Flipper knew it was again Wayne trying to remind Flipper it was time he was at the dolphin tank. Flipper ignored it, and eventually it stopped. Suddenly he heard a faint voice from out of the past speaking into his mind. "A dream is something you NEVER give up on!" said a female voice. Flipper began chatting with the voice in his head. *** It was 11:15am. Wayne paced nervously around the dolphin tank, wondering where Flipper was. There was a crowd of people waiting to see the owner and hear his opening speech, and they were asking each other where he was, what time it was, when it was supposed to start, and all the other stupid questions with obvious answers that get asked at such times. Wayne was behind the tank when the crowd suddenly silenced, and Flipper's voice came over the PA. "Sorry I'm late. An old friend had to remind me why I was here in the first place." To:CAROLINA SNOWBALL... THANKS. From:FLIPPER Date:January 5, 1993. Gimme back my god damned DUCK!!!!!!' Flipper launched into his speech with tthe enthusiasm and vigor that he ha used to get the Oceanarium to begin with. He told the people of the sights to see, the wonder of the aquatic mammal, and his "Undersea Lounge" with the surrounding community tank (temporarily closed until further notice). He ended by inviting everyone to stay as long as they liked, and tbe sure to check out the gift shops, which offered a unique array of ocean-related gifts. He uttered a few clicks and whistles, and on cue the dolphins behind him launched into a series of leaps and twists. Flipper stepped down from the podium, and saw Wayne standing there. "Where were you?" demanded Wayne. "I tried everything to get ahold of you!" "Don't worry about it now," said Flipper. "Go start doing your routines with the animals. If you see Mr. Pinrut, send him to finish the interview in my office. "Sir, I think you should know that I saw him coming out of your office when it was.. uh, destroyed. AND he was responsible for the light problem." Flipper paused. "I'll take that into consideration. But you've got some shows to do, and I have to call someone to rebuild my office. Now go!" Flipper turned and headed off towards his office. He was passing by a van with a large radio insignia when a man with a microphone stopped him. Flipper noted that the van's rear end was jacked up and a tire was being replaced. The man began speaking quickly. "This is Johnny Howitzer here live with the owner of Flipper's Oceanarium, Flipper himself! Flipper, it looks like you had a nice response to opening day. Why don't you tell the people at home all about this place?" Flipper grinned. Well, actually, he's always grinning, but had he a choice he'd be grinning. Which he is anyway. He began to speak into the microphone to hundreds, or maybe thousands of people. A pair of feral eyes glared at him from a dark corner. To:DELIRIUM TREMENS From:FERAL FERRET Date:It's the 6th of January? Who stole your duck? He suddenly found himself in a dismal, damp cave. [he approached the dolphin with a cat-like grace, hand brushing the knife's hilt instinctively. The knife disappeared.] He glanced around, and saw nothing but moss and dripping stalactites. ["Hear ya got problems," he hoarsely whispered, deftly and discreetly kicking the camera man in the back of the knees, and taking his place in the circle around Flipper when he collapsed.] He heard a faint murmuring deeper in the cave. [His knife flashed out, severing a microphone cable. Nobody except Flipper saw the knife come out of his sleeve.] Turning around, he saw the light of day behind him. Again, the murmuring sound. It sounded like someone was trying to say something, or call for his attention. ["I can deal with anything," he continued, secretly palming the knife in his other hand and hiding it in his belt. The whispering was spoken so softly that only a trained ear could hear it.] He sighed heavily, and headed off into the darkness, towards the voice. [He fished out a bottle from the pack, his next to last one, and bit the top off.] He continued stumbling forward, barely avoiding major collisions with cave walls. ["Besides, I could use some money," he muttered, draining off the bottle.] To:ALL WHO BE DEPRESSED, COMME MOI. From:PHANTOM Date:It's the 6th of January? Who stole your duck? Mr. Pinrut slowly wandered through the sparse forest near the oceanarium, wallowing in self-pity. Finally he had found his dream job. Finally he had found a place where he was accepted for what he could do, instead of people taking him at face value ("He doesn't have a real face!! Let's maim him!!"). He was finally able to live at peace with himself and the world, doing what he loved most, which was working with plants. After all, plants would never insult him or scream and run away from him (hardly ever, but that had to be a fluke), and they, unlike anyone else he had ever met, would respond to the love and attention he would give them, nurturing and full of compassion. But alas, it could never be. Already, before even being hired, he had beaten someone senseless with a door, completely frazzled the lighting system in the oceanarium, and he even had the misfortune to mutilate his boss's... no... his ex-boss's favorite whale phone. I mean, the lights could be fixed, and so could the guy presumably, but mess with a dolphin's whale phone...Well! Buried even more in his sorrow, Mr. Pinrut wandered aimlessly, a steady cresendo of squeaks, both mechanical, from his rusted limbs, and animal, from the very upset squirrel imbedded headfirst into his chest, surrounding him wherever he went. Tiring of walking, Mr. Pinrut rolled up his pant legs, sat down, and dangled his feet in a pond within eyesight of the oceanarium. Sitting there, he could perceive all of the hustle and bustle going on within the oceanarium, as what seemed like hundreds of thousands of people gathered around the amazing sights on display for their approval. "Sigh. I wish I could be a part of that again. I wish none of this ever happened. I didn't mean to do what I did, it's just I kinda have a bad touch with things that aren't green and leafy. That's why I don't drive... Now that this is over, I guess I'll just have to wander away again, searching for any number of years for another kind soul that will take me in and shelter me from the abuse of society." And so Mr. Pinrut sat, for hour after hour, as the sun slowly danced it's way across the sky. Was he contemplating his past, present, or even his future? Was he contemplating his mistakes? Was he contemplating suicide? Was he contemplating getting up and turning his back on the oceanarium, thus turning his back on the only chance for acceptance he had ever gotten. No. Well, at least not directly. Actually, he was contemplating what in blazes ahad inspired him to dangle his legs in the water, as they had now rusted so badly that they were permanently bend in their present position. Sighing heavily, Mr. Pinrut fell over, unable to do anything about it, as a slightly offended squeak emenated from the vicinity of his chest. Dimly, over a nearby hill, cries of "Oil dammit!! Get me some oil you stupid bird, before I make a feather-duster out of you!!!" were heard, but unfortunately not listened to. To:MR ROGERS? IT'S A BEAUTIFUL DAY IN THE NEIGHBORHOOD... RIGHT! From:FLIPPER Date:It's the 6th of January? Who stole your duck? Flipper gazed down somewhat disconcertedly at the man. "Problems?" he asked. He looked nervously at the radio crew, who were packing into the truck to leave, examining severed cables. He whispered , "You mean like Mr Pinrut?" Something about this man made Flipper very nervous. It might have been the amazing slight-of-hand with a fairly evil looking knife. It may have been the dark looks the man cast at everyone and everything. Or it could have been the fact that he didn't really seem tuned in to what was going on around him. Flipper wasn't sure. "Yeah," said the man. "Want me to solve them?" There was no external indication as to what the man was reallyty thinking about. The thought made Flipper shudder. "I'm not sure exactly what you mean, Mr, uh... I didn't catch your name?" "Steiner." The voice seemed almost to be disembodied. The man seemed to be chewing on a few leftover shards of a glass bottle. Flipper wondered where Wayne was. He couldn't take the tension much longer. "Perhaps if you went to see my assistant, he could find a position for you?" suggested Flipper. He nervously waited for Steiner's reply, fixed to the spot by the dark glare locked onto him. To:RUDOLPH THE REDNECKED RACIST From:FERAL FERRET Date:Thursday, the 7th of January. Happy happy happy, joy joy joy. The lights began dimming, and he couldn't even see a thing. ["...Wayne?" he asked, with absolutely and utter confusion. "What's a helper?"] "Hellllllp meeeeeeeee," moaned a voice even deeper in the cave, as he now fell to crawling along the ground on all fours. ["Pinrut, eh?" he muttered, his eyes crossing to, perhaps, look at more than one thing at a time. "Sure. Cheers."] He kept on crawling until his head thunked against something. [He pulled a bottle out from his pack, his last bottle, and slammed it against his head with great force. The bottle, made of plastic, didn't break, and the force of the blow made him stagger back and collapse] He searched the something that had stopped him. Cold. Bars. [With evident disgust, he picked himself up, rose to a nearby table, grabbed the nearest bottle from it, and crashed that against his head.] He felt along this cold thing, to find that it was a sort of portcullis blocking off the whole cave, which had narrowed significantly, at this point. [The bottle broke with a crash, dousing his hair with expensive champagne. He clapped his free hand to his head in pain. Blood trickled from between his fingers. "Ooooooh," he moaned.] He started feeling his way back, when a sudden crashing noise was heard, and the cavern wall shook. [He shrugged, absently mindedly sipping the champagne from the broken bottle stem, and eating the emptied glass.] Apparently, another portcullis had dropped. He was trapped. ["So, where's this Pinrut now?" he muttered at Flipper, regaining enough consciousness to focus his face into it's normal, malign glare.] To:I WAS KIDNAPPED BY ALIENS!! From:PHANTOM Date:Thursday, the 7th of January. Happy happy happy, joy joy joy. The pond was still now, the last ripples of the water long gone as the movement in the water had ceased. The wind blew lightly across the small gorge the pond was in, rustling the leaves of the ancient oak trees and maples trees, and ruffling the feathers of the birds that were sheltered withing them, warbling out their praises to the sunlight. A deer slowly made it's way to the edge of pond, taking a drink to cure it's thirst, and then looking about itself curiously, taking in the peacefulness of the gorge, and the strange track leading from the edge of the pond into the underbrush. The deer, being a very curious creature, followed the tracks into the underbrush, ears perked up attentively and eyes darting in all directions. After about five hundred metres, the deer's ears picked up sound... What seemed to be faint grunting and faint squeaking. Moving forward quickly, yet cautiously, the deer caught up to the sound, and, peering out from behind a bush, was surprised to see a strange metal man somehow moving across the forest floor, even though his legs were unmoving from the sitting position they were in, and his arms were not moving either. Frightened by the metal man's persistant cries of "Woah!! Woah!! I said woah you damn squirrel!!!", the deer fled... fled before it could see the two front paws of a very persistent squirrel dragging Mr. Pinrut across the forest floor to it's home. It's mate would be pleased. Dinner was on it's way... To:AN ONIMOUS INTERLUDE: WHATEVER COULD IT MEAN? From:PHANTOM Date:Thursday, the 7th of January. Happy happy happy, joy joy joy. Click ".....the firefighters battled the blaze unsuccessfully for a full two hours before they were able to get it under......." Click "....BART!! Give me my car keys before I ring your little neck!!! No! Don't put them in the... DOH!...." Click ".....and here we observe the male dolphin approaching the boy swimming near the beach. Notice how he is greeting the human in friendship...." Click ".....A NEW CAR!! Yes, that's right!! A brand new CHEVETTE!! All you have to do is multiply 3705462245 by 456993 in 3 seconds!! Ready? Set..." Click To:STEINER: UH... From:FLIPPER Date:8 Jan 1993 Friday, uh, 357 days till new year's? Flipper shifted his weight nervously. It seemed hard to believe how lighthearted he was only minutes before. Now he confronted someone who was possibly dangerous. He tried to recall how he avoided previous dangerous personalities, but gave up when he hit a mental block. He assumed that was a bad sign. Steiner had regained his composure and was again standing in front of Flipper, looking somewhat bored as he chewed absently. "I'm..I'm not really sure where Mr Pinrut is. I sent Wayne to find him. Maybe if you'd like to walk around the grounds or something?" Flipper anxiously awaited a response. Steiner seemed to be playing out some mentally taxing drama within his mind. "I really have to go do some paperwork, or something," hinted Flipper, attempting to prod the man to release his disturbing gaze. Steiner suddenly broke off the hypnotic glare. "Fine," he murmured. Flipper took advantage of the distraction to quickly move into his office where he set to work rebuilding a desk and chair. He would do some paperwork until the redocorators arrived. To:WAYNE From:FLIPPER Date:8 Jan 1993 Friday, uh, 357 days till new year's? Flipper eventually had a workable desk and chair, although he knew replacements were on the way. He sat in his still blackened office and relaxed a bit. There was a knock on the door. At Flipper's prompt, the door opened and a young boy with freckles and reddish hair entered. His slightly chubby face grinned broadly, although some nervousness was obvious. "What can I do for you?" asked Flipper. The boy looked around the room. "Jeepers," he exclaimed. "What happened in here?" "It was just a little accident," assured Flipper. "What's up?" "Well," began the boy hesitantly, "the man, Mr. Wayne, said I should come see you about helping him with the dolphins! That is, if it's all right with you and all." The boy waited eagerly for Flipper's response. Flipper was impressed with the boy's enthusiasm. He seemed a little familiar, too, although Flipper couldn't quite place it. "What's your name?" he asked. "Bud, sir." "Well, Bud, I think you better get out there. There's a LOT of work to do,and the sooner you learn it, the better!" Bud's eyes grew wide, and his grin even broader. "Yes, sir!" he exclaimed, and ran out of the office as fast as he could move. Flipper shook his head. He'd do some paperwork until the redecorators arrived. To:WHOEVER WANTS TO READ THIS... From:TINY TIM Date:8 Jan 1993 Friday, uh, 357 days till new year's? Some time passed... Flipper, still occupied on his paperwork found it to be quite boring. He tried to remember his life a a young dolphin without any responsibilities. As well, he recalled the time when him, and his friends swam and actually had FUN in the nice, cool, salty ocean waters. Just then, someone knocked at his office door. He answered, "Yes?" "We're the redecorators you called for. You are Flipper, I presume?" "Yeah!" "If you just leave us alone for a moment, well have this office fixed up in no time!" "Fine." Flipper left. To:I DON'T REALLY CARE... From:TINY TIM Date:8 Jan 1993 Friday, uh, 357 days till new year's? While Flipper was gone, the redecorators had started to do their job. they started with clearing the room of all broken or semi-burnt objects. The clumsy fellows weren't very careful to what they threw out. Amongst the objects was the picture of the only albino dolphin known to exist. Next, came the replacement of the awful looking carpet, which was pretty well soot. (vaporised!) Then the wall-paper was installed. The desk and chair was installed following that. Result, it looked remarked like a jungle, which was specified on the form which was filled out. the final touch, a tiger phone. The clumsy redecorators took another glance at the form. The name said 'Tiger' not 'Flipper'! The anxious redecorators waited for Flipper's return... To:TURNIPS, TURNIPS EVERYWHERE, AND NARY A ONE TO... UHH... From:FERAL FERRET Date:I might be mad, but they said it couldn't be done! (1993 01 09) "Shit!" he bellowed, kicking his shod feet against the grate one last time. [With squinty eyes, he glared about the room, found an alternate exit, and began walking.] With a heavy sigh, he rose up and started walking towards the wall. His eyes had adapted to the dark, and due to the slightly phosporent nature of the cave's walls, he could dimly see his way. [He rose up through a set of stairs, suddenly stopping when he saw burns, skids, and scratches embedded in the concrete: something metallic.] He leaned against the wall in abject disgust, and heard something behind him make a clicking sound. It wasn't his spine. [His eyes squinted even further, and he made sure that he still had the extra-special item in his pocket. "Pinrut," he muttered.] A section of wall had given way beneath him, by all appearences. He started pushing, prying, and scrabbling desperately. [He began following the trail of skid marks outside, where they were replaced with furrows in the sod. He began looking about himself shiftily.] He managed to clear a working pathway through the rubble, and headed on through without forethought. [He passed by a dog, whose hackles were raised. It growled at him menacingly. He ignored it altogether, looking clean through the dog for something else.] He was in a passageway. Lights were visible ahead. [He saw a burnt-out, charred hole in the groud. "Pinrut," he muttered again, this time a little louder. He pulled out his knife, and fingered it nervously.] "Heeeeeeellp meeeeeeeeee," moaned the same voice, this time much louder. It was distinctly female. His pulse quickening, he moved a little more stealthily, expecting a trap of some sort at any minute. [He stole up to a small pond. There was a rusty indentation in the sod nearby, and across the pond, a doe was looking at him with nervous, liquidy brown eyes. He immediately regretted his lack of throwing knives.] He entered a smallish room, and the chamber ended. There was a small grille set in the wall, and a small tapedeck beneath it, with a plaque mounted nearby. [He found another trail, this time a little deeper, as if something was being dragged, and it was also tinged with a great deal of rust. "He's near," he muttered again, pulling out the special package in his free hand.] The tape deck whirred. "HEEEEEEEELP MEEEEEEEEEEEE!" bellowed from the grille, momentarily making his ears ring. He kicked the tape deck aside, which was connected to the grille by some wires. "Damn!" he yelled. [He followed up the second path, and a short way away, he saw his quarry. Mr. Pinrut was there, perfectly helpless.] He glared at the grille. There was a speaker behind it. In extreme anger, he tried to pry the grille off, but failed. ["PINRUT!" he screamed, stepping out into the open, with his knife in one hand and the package in the other. He forced himself to breathe deeply, and checked the plaque. It was made of some sort of black glass, and glowing writing was appearing on it as he watched. [Pinrut spun his head about in alarm, and his eyes widened in disbelief as he saw the package Steiner carried in his left hand. "Oh, thank you!" Pinrut gushed.] "Mental Stability Test #1: FAILED" read the plaque. ["Got your oil forya," muttered Steiner, tossing it to Pinrut and loping away.] To:FLIPPER From:FERAL FERRET Date:January 10th, known as the day after the day after Elvis' Birthday. Ayeah. The whole building suddenly went quiet, as if some oppresive weight had been added to everyone's mind. As if controlled by a single mind, everyone turned to stare at the truly bizarre phenomenon entering the main lobby. It was albino... and it was a dolphin, no less. The quickest on his, err, feet, Flipper dashed forward in greeting. "Hihihihihihi!" he chattered, "I'm Flipper!" The albino dolphin looked confused. She didn't say anything, seeming to struggle with something in the back of her mind. Flipper, who'd been bouncing all over the emotional scale today, from despair to nervousness to raw fear to elation, now felt sheer confusion. "Can I help you?" he asked in an understandable language to humans, looking quite concerned, inasmuch as a dolphin could look concerned to a human. "Food," muttered the albino weakly. "Long trip. Tired." A little boy, a little on the chubby and exuberant side, didn't even need to be told what to do. He dashed off immediately, with a singleminded intensity of purpose. The albino dolphin sat down, in evident relief. The boy reappeared, with a bucket of stuffed trout. "Got it from Spike's!" he said, obviously pleased with himself. To:NORSE BARBARIANS From:FERAL FERRET Date:January 10th, known as the day after the day after Elvis' Birthday. Ayeah. Steiner started loping back from the forest. He didn't look overmuch pleased at the moment. He was clear of the horrifying visions for the moment, although... -I feel like I've lost contact with something- he thought to himself, and stopped cold. It was the longest coherent thought he had in months. He sat down with his back to a tree to savour it. To:ALBINIUS DOLPHERINIUS From:FERAL FERRET Date:January 10th, known as the day after the day after Elvis' Birthday. Ayeah. She ate the trout. It was good trout. The pleasure was obvious in her face, as she scarfed trout rapidly. Several people still stood around like extra nostrils, obviously wanting to be of use, but not knowing what to do. Others just stood there and gawked. An albino dolphin was a rarity, a walking, talking albino dolphin a once-in-a-millenium occurance. Many of these people would go out later in the day to spend their life savings on lottery tickets. Eventually, she was finished. She looked up at Flipper with long, dripping eye-lashes, the kind that would melt any heart, even Steiner's non-existant one. Flipper literally puddled. "Can you show me where I could stay the night, Flipper?" she asked, tracing a fin down Flipper's head." His flukes quivered in something like near-ecstasy. "Umm, umm, ahh, yeah, umm" he said with great eloquence. Even as he led her away, her mind began dissolving into grey static. =================================================== harmlesslion.com - Not for Commercial Use