al@mot.UUCP (Al Filipski) (08/03/85)
Here is a story I wrote several months ago for reasons too bizarre to go into now. I thought it might be a suitable contribution to help kick off net.bizarre: (NOTE: The Kincaid readability formula predicts that the following text can be read by someone with 3 or more years of schooling.) (3.1 to be exact) It was a dark and stormy night. As madman Dr. Smegma was watching "Wheel of Fortune" on the TV with the sound off, he heard a knock at the door. "Get that, Swamp Gas!" he yelled to his flunky. Swamp Gas lurched over to the door. When he opened it, they saw a dog in the doorway. "My car's ashtrays are full." it said, "Can I use your telephone?" Smegma said "Alas, no. You will have to spend the night." "But you will have to sleep with his daughter." added Swamp Gas. Dr. Smegma kicked him. "Wrong story, cretin," he hissed to Swamp Gas as he invited the visitor in. "Swamp Gas will get you some dry ice in colored water to drink. You can hang your clothes on my Jacob's ladders to dry." Smegma drooled on his shirt with glee as he spoke. At last he could complete his work. He jumped up and ran down to the basement. He checked the straps and electrodes on the table as the lightning crashed overhead. Later that night, he brought the dog to the lab and strapped it onto the table. A hideous form lay on the other table. "They will never laugh at Smegma again," he said. "The cosmic energy from this dog will bring to life this homosexual communist mutant zombie that I have built out of duct tape and cheese whiz." When he was about to throw the big knife switch, Smegma felt a hand on his shoulder. Swamp Gas grabbed him and began to throttle him. "Why?" Smegma gasped. "Wheel of Fortune, always Wheel of Fortune," said Swamp Gas. "You never asked me if I wanted to watch Peoples' Court," he said as he wrestled Smegma to the ground. They rolled on the ground and the Doctor again reached for the switch. As soon as the Doctor pulled the switch, he realized that it was the wrong one. He had opened the trap door in the floor. There his failed experiments lived drinking hair tonic, listening to disco music, and carving lewd statues out of brick cheese they bought with food stamps. He fell in and was never heard from again. Meanwhile, Swamp Gas freed the dog and they lived happily ever after. -------------------------------- Alan Filipski, UNIX group, Motorola Microsystems, Tempe, AZ U.S.A {seismo|ihnp4}!ut-sally!oakhill!mot!al ucbvax!arizona!asuvax!mot!al -------------------------------- That shelf on your living room wall is about to fall and take with it your entire collection of 13th century chinese petrified licorice frogs. Don't bother rushing home-- you won't make it.