Text 4300, 176 rader
Skriven 2006-05-27 07:56:50 av Greg Sears (3:633/104)
     Kommentar till en text av Nathan Prugh
Ärende: Re: Adminrative Joke
============================
       Nathan Prugh was entering F unny stuff to  All  

 NP> ADMINISTRATIUM
   > Thomas G. Kyle
   > Los Alamos, New Mexico

========================================================================
==                                                                    ==
== If you enjoy these please feel free to contact me and say hello. I ==
== can be reached at Sun via the Arpanet or the USENET. My email      ==
== addresses are:                                                     ==
==                                                                    ==
==           {ucbvax, decwrl, allegro}!sun!dbercel!toto               ==
==                                                                    ==
==                            or                                      ==
==                                                                    ==
==           dbercel@sun.com or dbercel@sun.arpa                      ==
========================================================================
                      Hitch Hikers Guide To The Net
                        Episode 1 - First Meeting

One day, not long after tomorrow, Arnold Lint was busy scrolling through
the seemingly infinite reaches of the Net. All of a sudden the news
stopped with an abrupt thud, followed by the angry message "YOUR NODE
HAS BEEN REDUCED TO A LITTLE BLACK, GREASY SPLOTCH IN MY MEMORY
SPACE!!".  No sooner had he assimilated this horrendous event when a
great suction like noise began to emanate from his terminal.  "This is
it", he said to himself, "I'm going to die". The screen on his terminal
imploded and he suddenly found himself sucked into the terminal . . . .

(Arnold Lint regains consciousness, only to find himself in the company
of an odd trio. One of the trio is an apparently normal human male
(named Rod Perfect) and the second is a voluptuous young woman (named
Gillian). The third is also a normal male (named Xaphod Gronklebox),
except for a third, mechanical, arm and a 12" CRT on his shoulder that
keeps scrolling "Pieces of Eight, Pieces of Eight".)

Rod:        Evening all! I'm Rod Perfect, awfully rude of you imploding
            on us this way, you silly twit.

Arnold Lint:Sorry. Am I dead?

Xaphod:     Obviously not, you semi-evolved simian! Are all you
            net-landers so stupid. If you were dead would I be talking
            to you? I'm Xaphod Gronklebox, the famous inter-net-al
            criminal and dog molester - you must have heard of me.

Arnold Lint:Actually, no, I haven't.

Xaphod:     Oh well, your loss. I just hijacked this node! It's called
            the Infinity, isn't it wild. Just imagine the places we can
            go in this baby.

(Rod notices that Arnold's eyes are transfixed on the young woman)

Rod:        Her name's Gillian, at least that's what she wants to be
            called.  Actually, her real name is Gertrude Floogie, but
            she didn't like it, so she changed it.

(Arnold Lint detects a mechanical sound to his right. A robot soon walks
into view)

Robot:      My name is Martin. I am sure you will have an absolutely
            awful time on this node, I always have. I do not know why
            they insist on trying to do things to change the Net, they
            can only make it worse.  No matter what happens, some one
            always says something stupid and ruins everything. Then
            someone else feels obliged to a rebuttal, and on and on it
            goes. How awful. Still, what do you expect from an imperfect
            Net.

Rod:        Martin is a bit, well, depressing.

Xaphod:     He's a real downer, man!

Martin:     That's right, ridicule me. See what I care. I'm only an
            android. Just another example of cruelty in this awful Net.

(The "Hitch Hikers Guide to the Net" defines cruelty as having to see
constant repetitions of the same salutary comment in more than 20
messages.  History shows that a war was fought over the repetition of
the statement "If you don't like my name - push off, signed xxxx"
appearing in 200 messages from the node of Moronicus. Since that time,
any time a salutary message is used more than 20 times, subsequent
violators have their pelvis screwed to a cake stand while they are
forced to watch repeats of "The Gong Show".)

Arnold Lint:Well, what do we do now?

Xaphod:     We're on our way to Netrothea. (The 12" CRT on his shoulder
            now starts repeating "Polly want a sedative, Polly want a
            sedative") There's supposed to be all sorts of wild and
            amazingly great things in that place!

Rod:        Martin, set course for Netrothea!

Martin:     All right, but you're not going to like it.

Gillian:    What will we find on Netrothea?

Xaphod:     Well, there's supposed to be a huge stock pile of data there
            that we can sell to the Net for millions.

Arnold Lint:A stock pile of what?

Xaphod:     Data! Data! You idiot. Knowledge is power in the Net. All
            that data has been accumulating over the centuries. Just
            imagine the amazingly amazing philosophical Net-discussions
            that it stored.  I mean, the Net is the focal point of all
            wisdom.  Just think of all that smart stuff! Wow!

( The "Hitch Hikers Guide to the Net" insists that the focal point of
all knowledge in not the Net itself. Rather, it is the fourth stall in
the mens room in Grand Central Station. No one has ever been dumb enough
to waste time disproving this wild claim, so the publishers avoided some
nasty laws suits.)

Xaphod:     We'll have millions! We'll by everything! No, we'll have
            billions, trillions, . . . .

(Xaphod begins to shake violently and froth at the mouth, then he falls
over backward. A few seconds later he comes to.)

Xaphod:     Well, lets go!

Rod:        You all right?

Xaphod:     Yah, sure. Just the excitement of new conquests.

Arnold Lint:Looked more like Flamers-syndrome to me.

Xaphod:     You should talk, you  key-pounding half-wit.

Gillian:    If we're going to go, lets go already.

Martin:     Do we really have to?

Rod:        YES!

(Just as the node starts on it's way, a host of flame-shaped vessels
became visible on the scanners)

Rod:        Funny you should mention Flamers-syndrome.

Xaphod:     Oh, hell!

Gillian:    What are they?

Xaphod:     Damn, those are ships belonging the Flamers. They go after
            anything, no matter how pointless or unimportant it is. If
            they catch us, we could suffer permanent brain damage, or
            worse yet - join the Moral Majority

Arnold Lint:So this it it, we're all going to die!

Martin:     I told you that you would like it.

Others:     Oh Shut Up!

         ******************** End Of Part 1 ********************

Will Arnold and his new travelling companions escape the Flamers? Or
will they end up playing rock albums backwards at 66.6 RPM? For the
answers to these, and countless other pointless questions . . . Tune in
next time . . .  same Net-time . . . same Net-channel



... >             ooo
... >            c| |
... >   __m_00_m__|_|__  Cheers, I C E-man

... >                     --spying with free beer at the wall for ALL.

--- EzyBlueWave V2.01b006 00F90257
 * Origin: Afraid of the competition? We ARE the Competition! (3:633/104)