"And now for something completely different"

[bacchus]

Miniature replica of King Tut's sarcophagus. He had never been greatly interested in Egyptology, nor - noting the technicolored dreamcoat - in biblical stories.Hence, he was amazed, nay astounded, to see what was inside the mysterious miniature sarcophagus. He.......

[Shapley]

...surely hadn't been carrying this thing all along. Where did acquire such an object? The last time he saw one, it was...

[bacchus]

strapped to the well-digger's back. And so the wheel turns. After a not too little internal debate, Bottom slowly opened the sarcophagus only to discover a Hideous Curriousity in the form of.......

[Shapley]

... a hand-carved agronomicalitry. Very rare indeed! It is certainly as hideous as at is rare, if not more so. Bottom stared at it in Disgust.

Which leads us to the next question: why did they name this town Disgust? Surely everything here was disgusting, but did the state of things follow the name, or was the name a result of the state of things.

Whichever, he removed his technicolour dreamcoat, rolled it up and stuffed it in his saddlebag (it really was a nice coat, warm and soft, with all the colours of a dying dolphin). Then he set off to find the source of the object. Only one person alive could tell him where it came from, and where it belongs: his well-traveled cousin Pale. But where was Pale? When last heard of, he was fighting alongside Juan Valdez on the Venusian Plains. That would be the place to begin his search.

And that is where Pale was to be found, but the situation was not a happy one. Victory had seemed so close for Juan and Pale only a short time ago, but the tide of war had changed.

Rather, we should say, the tide had changed. Come in, actually. Venusian tides do not roll in and out like Earthly tides. During the heat of mid-day, the seas flash to steam, and form a cloud high above the surface. As the hemisphere cools in the evening, the clouds condense rapidly, and the tide falls rapidly from the sky. Thus, on Venus, a falling tide means a rising sea, and vice-versa.

Due to poor logistics, Juan and his troops had driven the enemy to the high ground, just as the tide came rapidly falling in upon them. There was little time to retreat, Pale had dragged Juan to the relative safety of a small rocky hill. They quickly dispatched the handful of enemy soldiers encamped there, and fell to the soaking rock in exhaustion, as the remainder of the troops fled the rising waters of the falling tide. A handful found freedom on the rock with Juan and Pale, others managed to retreat to high ground unoccupied by the enemy. Most, however, succumbed to the rising waters or the enemy occupying the hills to which they fled.

The aroma of brewed coffee filled the air, as the ripe beans were saturated with the steaming water flooding the fields in which they grew. Another sleepless night for both sides in this incessant struggle. If only...

[bacchus]

Juan had thought to study the tidal charts. But ,alas, now he was beyond the Pale.
Bottom thus found himself in the state of High
Dudgeon when only a short time ago he was in Disgust, Things.Not only that, but upon looking again at Tut's Sarcophagus he discovered it to be in the state of Disrepair. How could this be.....

[Shapley]

...unless he had dropped it there on his journey through the state of Confusion. In any case, it was lost now, and he was on the tran heading southward, into the sunset.

Wait a minute! Since when does the sun set in the south? Things were becoming curiouser and curiouser. Looking about, he noticed other, more curiouser things about him. First, and most noticable, was the ...

[piqaboo]

pudding-like consistency of the receding tide. It..

[GreatCarouser]

convinced him that ingestion of 'sugar-free' chocolate was not for those with delicate constitutions. He briefly pondered whether there was a market for 'sugar-free' shcowp gelato but realized the thought was the first step down the highway to madness and ruin. Luckily he was distracted by the sight of...

<small>[ 06-13-2005, 02:06 PM: Message edited by: Great Carouser ]</small>

[Shapley]

... his rifle, which now pointed directly at the jar sitting atop the fencepost.

Not that he had anything against the jar, quite the opposite. It was a lovely jar. The sun filtered through the smooth glass back of the jar, only to be scattered in myriad directions by the raised lettering on the front, creating tiny rainbows intertwined with the clear glass of the jar front, creating arcs, lines, and circles which presented an impressive image... and a clear target. He squeezed the trigger with his hoof.

"Krakow!" went the rifle. Polish-made rifles often make that sound.

He watched through the sight as the jar shattered, sending tiny fragments into the sunlight, alternately reflecting and diffracting the sunlight before they fell into the dust below the fencepost. Such is life, if he is to remain a true marksman, jars must die.

And he does need to remain a marksman. The plains of Venus were no place for a mediocre rifleman. War rages incessantly around the coffee plantation. Even in the tropics, far from the war, the planet is mostly a lawless land, with never enought marshalls to patrol its vast, steaming surface.

Venus! A beautiful planet, to be sure, but a violent one. He would have to be ready if he was to return there, and he had to return there. Pale needed him, and he needed Pale. Only he could help solve the riddle. He returned his rifle to its saddlebag, and headed toward the ship.

Within the hour he was...

<small>[ 06-13-2005, 04:04 PM: Message edited by: Shapley ]</small>

[piqaboo]

diverted from his marksdonkey aims, by the sight of caffeine-reinforced nanotubes, spontaneously forming from the concentrate created by the evaporating tide from the venusian coffee-growing tidal hollows."nanotubes, nanotubes....." he thought, as a thought brushed thru his mind. "YES!" he thought. "YES! We can use nanotubes to make brushes, suitable for .......".....

<small>[ 06-13-2005, 04:57 PM: Message edited by: piqaboo ]</small>

[Shapley]

... grooming the masses...or massing the grooms.

Actually, the grooms were already massing outside the great cathedral. The brides, their faces hidden (deservedly so!) behind thick veils were waiting in the small chapel beyond the garden, so as not to be seen before the ceremony. Occasionally, one would peek out through the heavy iron doors at the grooms gathered on the cathedral lawn, wondering which one they would be paired with. The grooms, like condemned men, were smoking a final cigarette before the ceremony began.

Inside the cathedral, the the great nanotubes of the nano-organ began belching out a tune to call the grooms to the altar. Heeding the call of the mechanical flatulence, the grooms tossed the glowing cigarettes to the ground, almost in unison, and stamped them into the ground, as if the dousing the fires of freedom. Hurrying through the great doors, they took their positions at the front of the altar, then turned to face the rear of the church.

One by one, the brides entered, their elegant gowns and heavy veils tastefully designed to hide the once-lovely features that were lurking beneath. Breathtakingly beautiful they had been, before the Venusian sun had taken its toll on their features. Blistering heat had left them, well, blistered. And scarred. And bald.

Not that the grooms were any prize, of course. Working day after day in the heat of the Venusian sun. They looked more dead than alive. The beauty of the wedding ceremony served only to remind them of the ugliness of their existence. What dreams had brought them here? What empty promises had they followed? What hope had they left?

The great doors slammed shut behind the last bride, reminding the grooms of the slamming of the great doors of the open-pit mines that had claimed their youth, not so long ago. As each bride took her place beside a groom (it didn't matter which one), they turned, silently, to face the altar.

Suddenly, just as the music ended and the Lord Reverend Superior began to speak, the great door burst open. There, in the blinding sunlight which flooded the cavernous cathedral, stood...

<small>[ 06-13-2005, 06:02 PM: Message edited by: Shapley ]</small>

[piqaboo]

The Reverend 'Moon' (Munificent, that is). With hands held high and wide, she....

[piqaboo]

called the whole thing off. NabiscaNestle had just announced discovery of a chemical that could be grown in wheat, that would completely supplant caffeine as a stimulant of choice. The bottom dropped out of the coffee market, and the Venusian economy was diving. The last thing they needed was to create more families.

Instead, she and her loyal aides passed out literature to all the grooms-no-more and brides-no-more, instructing them to report for training. They were to learn the fine skills involved in nanotube assembly. The caffeine-reinforced nanotubes had shown an unique.......

[Shapley]

...texture and colour, reminding one at times of both the sunrise and sunset over the Andes, as viewed from the veranda of...

[Shapley]

...the portico at the whitehouse, where even now the MIB's, the gnomes, the elves, an honest politician, and some other mythical beings were plotting their next step in the ill-concieved coffee wars. They had used deception to start the war, and now it seemed that Juan and Pale were catching on to their deception. Capt. Robbins had been easily dispensed with when he got too close to the truth, but Juan and Pale would be another story. They were on their guard, due to recent events. They knew they had to do something, but what?

It seems they were at an impasse.

Suddenly, the head gnome jumped to his feet.

"I have a plan." He said, with an evil grin. "We have to trick Bottom into...

<small>[ 06-23-2005, 09:19 AM: Message edited by: Shapley ]</small>

[piqaboo]

sell all his venusian-caffeine-biset-nanotube stocks short, and completely divest himself of all options, futures, etc.
Once that was accomplished, the conspirators could proceed .....

[Shapley]

...to close this quotation in some manner that made sense."

The quotation now closed, the Gnome sat down, and ordered another espresso kamuchea, which the chambermaid promptly delivered.

Unfortunately, as she placed the steaming drink on the table in front of the gnome, the listening device, which had been hidden in her bodice, fell with a splash into the demitasse.

Stunned at this breach, the honest politician jumped to his feet and shouted...

<small>[ 10-18-2005, 01:24 PM: Message edited by: Shapley ]</small>

[Shapley]

..."mmummpphh!", as the hand of one of the MIB's covered his mouth to keep the secret enclave from being overheard.

Not far from the portico, the President was looking out the window when he noticed the unusual gathering outside. The MIB's ordered the gathering to disperse, and they did so, quickly and quietly. By the time the President arrived on the portico, only the gnomes remained, motionless in the garden, as was their wont.

Turning to the Secretary, the President spoke: "Curiouser and Curiouser," he began, "I could have sworn there were ... things ... standing out here a few moments ago."

He turned to go inside, but stopped, and bent down to pick up the curious object that had been unwittingly dropped by the departing conspirators. He showed it to the Secretary, who recognized it immediately.

"Oh, My Gosh!" She proclaimed, "That's the...

<small>[ 06-27-2005, 10:11 AM: Message edited by: Shapley ]</small>

[bacchus]

Miniature sarcophagus of King Tut.

[Shapley]

..."...