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The Evil Angels Revised Fairly Tales.
(Released 1-5-89)
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
=================
W A R N I N G !
=================
The surgeon general has declared that reading
this material may damage your sanity.
***** Proceed with extreme caution. *****
DO NOT EXPOSE TO OPEN FLAME. IT'LL BURN!
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
====================
Ring these Boards!
====================
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(For sale $5,000 ONO)
The Twilite Zone. 562-0686 300/300 1200/1200 24 hrs a day!
Soon 2400 (Not 12/75)
Doodz Domain. 646-5861 All Speeds 23 hrs a day!
646-3171 (One line with Trailblazer)
The Crossover. 367-5816 All Speeds 23 hrs a day!
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
+-------------------------------------+
C R A C K U L A
An Evil Angels Gothic Perversion Story.
+-------------------------------------+
by Ford Prefect.
Deep within a forest a lone wolf howled. As if in response, a flash
of lightning bathed the tops of the withered trees in a blue-white
glare before the scene was once more plunged into a blanket of
darkness. A pitted, unsealed road twisted its way through the dense
growth. By and by, there is the crack of a whip, and gradually the
low rumble of horses' hooves.
The coachman cracked his whip again, further urging on the two horses
pulling the black coach to it's treacherous destiny. The road took
another turn, and began to head down into the valley, where the trees
gave way to the faint lights of peasant dwellings. As the coach
clattered onto the cobblestones at the outskirts of the village, the
coachman pulled back on the reins and slowed the horses to a stop.
After a moment, the coach door opened and Fearless Fred stepped out.
"So this is Transvestylvania, is it? What a hole."
"Shhhhh, Fred", said Ford Prefect as he also stepped out of the coach,
looking nervously over his shoulder at the cloaked coachman. "It's
always like this", he added softly.
"You mean you've been to this dump before?", asked Fred in surprise.
"Well, once. Briefly. It was a long time ago, and I travelled in from
the opposite direction over the Bulgarian border. I've never come this
way before."
"No, neither have I", said Lensman as he stepped out of the coach
tugging a rapidly deflating doll, "it must have been all those holes
and cobblestones in the road."
"Yeah, it was a bit rough", Fred agreed as he patted his pockets,
"it's a pity Satan's Daughter wasn't riding with us, we could have
had fresh butter within the first three miles..."
Fred found what he had been looking for, and extracted a money pouch
from his coat pocket. He hunted around for a gold sovereign and handed
it to the coach driver who took it silently. Lensman struggled with the
luggage with growing irritation at the rear of the coach. "Damn
luggage clamps won't undo. They're harder than my shoe laces. Arghh!
Help me Fred."
Fred grimaced and joined Lensman at the rear of the coach and began
pulling at the jammed clamps.
Ford searched around in the bottom of his satchel and pulled out an
incomplete tool kit. "You want a screwdriver?", he called.
"Leave it out", said Raster, the coachman, speaking for the first time,
"you've got me ten minutes late already. I was supposed to be making
mad passionate love with Julie Alderman tonight, and if I'm not there
in five minutes she'll be starting without me!"
Lensman hauled the luggage off the rear of the coach, and the coach
sped off into the night to the sound of a cracking whip.
"So where to now?", asked Ford.
"This way", said Fred eagerly as he hurried down a side street, "I can
smell that O.H. functional group anywhere..."
Sure enough, Fred led them to the Werewolf's Fang, the local inn. A
pool of warm light spilled out of the open door into the street, and
the sounds of music and laughter could be heard from within. As they
stepped inside, a sudden hush fell over the room and the peasants all
turned to stare. "Uh, hi guys", faltered Lensman with a nervous little
half wave, "Ah... don't mind us... drink up..." He trailed off, and the
three shuffled over to a remote corner of the bar.
The peasants gradually resumed their conversations, though now in a
subdued tone. A few crossed themselves. The Barman, Garden Gnome,
finished wiping a few glasses, and approached them. "Yes?", he said in
a deep, bored voice.
Fred relaxed as he sat down on a barstool and rested his elbow on the
wood-topped bar. "I'll have a double Anything-Alcoholic", said Fred,
as a few peasants left the inn, crossing themselves.
"Why do they keep making that sign?", Ford wondered aloud.
"Protection", said a husky voice beside him. Ford turned around, and
saw a hessian-clad peasant, Ivan Trotsky, sitting at a nearby table.
"Pardon?"
"They do it to ward off evil forces, demons..."
"Oh", said Ford, "so it's the sign of the cross?"
"No", replied Ivan, "actually it's the sign of the cross-your-heart
bra. Everyone wears one here. It's for protection of the breasts
against...." Ivan lowered his voice to a whisper, "... the Count!"
"The Count!", exclaimed Fred, "but that's who we've come here to see.
You do mean Count Masky von Crackula?"
"Yes, the Devil Masky. Woe to all who tread the stones of the Castle
Crackula. Why would you want to go THERE!?"
"Well", said Lensman, "actually, we're real estate agents."
"Errrrr!", said the entire bar populous.
"All right, all right", said Lensman defensively, "I know it's not
exactly a popular career, but the hours are good."
"They're right, you know", said Disk Destroyer, the local estate agent
as he climbed onto the bar-top, "and I have terrific powers of
persuasion. Just watch me turn rape into rapture. Twenty sovereigns
says I can finally get a girl tonight." Disk Destroyer abseiled down
Fred's leg and plunged into a nearby forest of knees running towards
the women. They could hear shouts above a drunk rendition of "Roll me
over in the clover"...
"Hey there, if I said you had a beautiful body would you hold it
against me?"
{Splash of drink being thrown}
{Pause}
"Hey there baby, want sex? {pause} OK then, want to lie down while I
have some?"
{Crunch of knee in groin}
"Anyway", said Fred as he scooped up the twenty sovereigns, "we're here
to sell the Count a house in London."
"Just be careful!", hissed Ivan, "Masky isn't what he appears to be,
he's a kinky vampire!"
"He's what?", exclaimed Ford.
"You heard. He flies around at night and finds a victim. He then
mesmerizes them, bites their feet, and sucks their blood out through
their toes!"
--------------------------
"I don't see why we couldn't have just stayed at the inn", complained
Ford as they neared the towering front doors of Castle Crackula.
"Stay there?", asked Fred, "no thanks. The innkeeper kept trying to
feed me live yabbies. The waitress with the bamix wasn't bad though..."
"There'll be no-one here at this hour", moaned Lensman.
"Don't be so sure", said Fred, "listen..." They could faintly hear the
sound of a pipe organ being played. Fred banged loudly on the doors,
and shortly a tall, saturnine figure opened the door.
"Sorry to have kept you waiting, but I've recently had to sack Renfield
and I like playing with my organ.", apologised Masky.
"Renfield?", echoed Fred.
"My manservant. His habits were disgusting me. He was a zoophagous
maniac."
"A what?", asked Fred.
"A MAN-SERVANT." Count Masky repeated slowly. "He used to serve the
village men to me."
"No, the zoo-thingie maniac." Fred said with a blank look on his face.
"Oh, ZOOPHAGOUS MANIAC. He used to eat spiders and flies", explained
Masky.
"How did he get their little legs apart?", asked Lensman.
Fred elbowed Lensman in the ribs, and they all went inside and gathered
in the dining hall.
--------------------------
After they had settled around the table, with Masky on a commode, Fred
unrolled several charts and blueprints. "This is the building we
thought most suited you. It is, as you wanted, quite large and
isolated", said Fred.
"And you can arrange my transportation as I requested?" Masky queried.
"Certainly, Ford here is a travel agent and will make all the
arrangements."
"Splendid." Count Masky responded. "We shall continue this discussion
tomorrow evening. I hope you shall find your chambers comfortable.
A meal will be served at midday. Natasha here will see you to your
rooms. Good evening gentlemen."
"I wonder if Natasha is his woman-servant." Fred said to Ford as they
followed her to their rooms, making a note in his black book.
--------------------------
When the trio awoke in the afternoon, they found a hot meal waiting for
them in the hallway outside. After eating, they made a short
exploratory trip around the castle, but found most of it locked off.
Fred worked on the title deeds for the house in England for a while,
and then noticed Ford was missing. Lensman was on his bed and hadn't
seem to have noticed, so Fred put down his quill and left the room to
look for him. Fred eventually found Ford kneeling on the floor in one
of the corridors, apparently making a detailed examination of the
floor.
Ford looked up, startled, as Fred approached. "Fred! Come over here
and knock on the floor."
Fred took an immediate step backwards. "What, with you?"
"No, bang the floorboards."
"Look Ford, that sort of pansexual perversion might turn you on, but
if you think I'm about to-"
"No! Listen to this." Ford rapped on a square floor panel with his
knuckles. The sound echoed hollowly. "Did you hear that?", asked Ford,
"I think there's a hidden compartment under this piece of floor."
"Hey, you could be right... Yeah, it seems to be movable." Fred pried
the panel out of place, and discovered a small hole under the
passageway. In it lay a dusty book of vallum pages and leather
bindings. Fred carefully lifted it out, and blew the dust off the
cover.
+---+ +---+
| |-----------------------------------------------------| |
| + | | + |
+---+ T H E V A M P Y R +---+
| |
| A Lesson in Unnatural History. |
| |
+---+ by Jesse Ertits. +---+
| + | | + |
| |-----------------------------------------------------| |
+---+ +---+
Fred and Ford went back to the bedroom, where Fred began to read the
book and Ford helped Lensman do The Times crossword. "No, no, no,
Lenny, there's only three X's in pornography..."
"Help me with this one, Ford. A four letter slang word for vagina."
"Oh", said Ford, knotting his brow, "I know the word it should be...
vagina... vagina... Damn, I can't remember it, but it's on the tip of
my tongue..."
"What's the book about, Fred?", asked Lenny after a while.
"All about vampires", said Fred as he carefully turned another page and
began absorbing the centuries-old print. "Did you know vampires can
turn gaseous? I just thought Masky farted a lot. It says here what a
vampire's weaknesses are and, ahh!, this next bit should be important,
`how to kill a vampire'..." Fred turned another sheet of brittle
vallum. "Shit!"
"What's wrong?", asked Ford
"Some bastard has been pressing flowers in the book! I can't read
what it says to do. Look at this, there are daffodils flattened onto
the vallum sheets!"
"Yeah", said Lensman, looking over Fred's shoulder, "and what extremely
poor taste in flowers! I'd much rather see pansies between my
sheets..."
"Sun's setting, Fred", said Ford, who was standing next to the narrow
arrowslit that served as a window, "Masky will be up and flitting
around the belfry soon. Better not let him see that book."
Fred hid the book under his bed and soon Masky strode in, opera cape
flapping.
"Good evening gentlemen. I trust you are comfortable." Count Masky
greeted them, and continued without waiting for a response. "I have
some business to attend to tonight, so I will be unavailable. Please
don't pry around the keep, it could be dangerous." With that, he left.
"Wonder where he's off to", said Lensman, a little irritated at such
curt treatment. "Probably off to the blood bank for a withdrawal",
said Fred wryly.
"Better than Cefiar's habit. He makes withdrawals from the sperm bank",
reflected Ford.
"He used to work there", said Lensman, recalling an appropriate snippet
of information, "but he got fired when they found him drinking on the
job."
"OK, enough gossip, what are we going to do about Count Masky?" Ford
said.
Lensman had a blank look on his face, as too did Fred. Flickering
torchlight surrounded them until a distant yell broke the silence and
left an uneasy tension in the air.
"At times like this, I think we should look for inspiration at the
inn." said Fred as he made his way out of the room and headed to the
inn closely followed by Ford and Lensman.
--------------------------
Dawn was breaking as the three staggered back towards the castle.
Earlier that evening they'd heard many things about the foul deeds of
the evil Count, and among the other information they'd gathered was how
to dispel a vampire, but no-one was brave enough to enter the castle to
attempt it.
"I don't get it." said Ford as their third rendition of What Do You Do
With A Drunken Vampire finished. "How is a bottle of Holy Vaseline
supposed to effect vampires?"
"Shhh!" Slurred Fred. "We're nearing the castle, don't want him to get
suspicious."
--------------------------
That evening they were woken by the spine chilling howl of a lone wolf
somewhere in the woods nearby. Ford had commented that there would be a
full moon that night. Natasha entered the room, her breasts arriving
several seconds before the rest of her.
"Good evening. The count would like to extend an invitation for you to
join him for a meal and finalise your business matters. Would you
follow me please?" Natasha turned, narrowly missing Fred's grasp and led
the three down the stone corridors to the dining hall towards the
Count's organ playing.
The organ fell awkwardly silent as Natasha entered the room followed by
Fred's tongue, Fred, Ford and Lensman. Turning away from the keyboard
the Count greeted them, and gestured for them to take their seats. A
fine dinner followed which the Count explained was some of the finest
local cuisine.
"Delicious." Ford began to reminisce "reminds me of and old African
dish which I could never get the recipe for."
"Battered ant-eater tongues, pickled worms and sauteed hog testicles."
I'm glad you enjoyed it. Most outsiders find our local specialties,
let's say, not to their liking."
"Ah, Count." Fred thought he'd bring business matters up before the
meal. "Remarkable dinner, but to the matter of our business?"
"You will find in the chest over there" the Count gestured to a large
wooded chest at the side of the room, "the agreed amount for the
estate. I shall be leaving by coach within the week for England. Will
you enjoy my company for another night? The surrounding woods can be
dangerous at."
"Thank you count, but we feel we would be abusing your hospitality to
stay." Ford said as The Lensman, who now resembled jelly, green and
wobbly, began to slip under the table assumably to keep Fred company.
"Very well. Natasha! Get the coach. Have a pleasant journey." The Count
turned and strode out of the room.
--------------------------
Lensman and Fred took a while to recover, but they knew that the count
would soon be wanting to retire for the day, and they wanted to have
left the castle by then. Raster helped Lensman secure the case
onto the rear of the coach. Count Masky looked on from the large
carved wooden doors which were the main entrance to the castle.
"Farewell Count. It has been a pleasure doing business with you." Fred
grinned as he followed Ford into the coach and closed the door.
The coach pulled away to the crack of Raster's whip, down along a dark
winding road through the woods. Ford watched as the last spire of the
castle disappeared into the distance and turned to Fred.
"Now will you please explain what the Holy Vaseline was for Fred?"
"Five..." Fred began, "Four... Three... Two... "
"Arrrrggg!" A chilling scream from the castle cut Fred short and echoed
across the valley.
"Damn, my timing's out! Good thing he a good Catholic Vampire and
doesn't use condoms isn't it?" Fred grinned.
"I hear there's a Frankenstein guy looking for a vacant castle
not far from here." Ford commented as he non-chalantly nibbled
his nails.
"Driver! To Frankenstein's Castle!"
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
============
Synderella
============
By Avalon ..
Once upon a time, in a land not to different from our own, there
lived a pretty, but flat-chested and almost innocent girl called
"Synderella". She lived at home with her stepmother and her fat,
ugly stepsisters.
Synderella was always left to do the more mundane tasks such as
cooking [Can anyone live on bouncy cheesecakes alone?] and
scrubbing up after her stepsisters and stepmother.
One day an invitation came to the house from the palace, it was
an invitation to the King's next orgy, it was given to all
females who were thought worthy of being there. Synderella
thought she was invited too.
In the lead up to the ball, her stepsisters had many tasks for
Synderella. "Wash this, I don't want to get any more diseases!"
"Where's my pill?" were some of the constant requests of
Synderella. "Should I curl my hair or go bald and wear a wig?",
pondered one of her stepsisters as she prepared herself for the
orgy.
Finally the night arrived and when the coach arrived Synderella
was still in her leather and chains and was unable to go since
she was obviously overdressed for the occasion.
"Get back inside now!" yelled the stepmother, cracking a whip
and pulling hard on the chain that wound its way to Synderella,
forcing her back inside.
A few hours later when Synderella had finished her chores and
her stepmother had retired to bed, Synderella sat alone on
her bed deep in thought of what it would be like to be at the
orgy, and began weeping silently to herself "It's not (sob) not
fair..."
{POOF!}
"Ok, Ok, I'm here, now stop messing about and we'll see what I
can do about getting you to the orgy." said a mysterious figure
with a lisp.
"Who are you ?", asked Synderella.
"None of your business... stand up." the mysterious figure said.
Synderella protested that she was unused to finding strange men in
her bedroom, and would not participate with anything he wanted until
she at least knew his name. Reluctantly he mumbled "You can call me
Lance. I'm your Fairy God-SysOp." With nothing much else to do,
Synderella wiped the tears from her eyes, and stood up expectantly.
"No wonder you're not at the orgy." said the stranger. "Hmmmm..."
Waving the wand in his right hand he said some words that
sounded more like an excited faggot than a magician. Synderella
stood waiting for something to happen.
"Well?!" demanded Synderella expectantly.
"Have a look at yourself now."
"Oh!" said Synderella, noticing that she now had an admirable
bust, "Much better. But how do I get there ?"
"One driver coming up...". A pillar of smoke appeared, and out
stepped Fred. "Damn! Oh well, he'll have to do. And for transport...
I think an armored personnel carrier should see you there safely,
even with this maniac driving."
A loud crash came from the road outside. "Good, got the wogs
parked in the car out front. Well what are you waitin' for ?"
asked Lance.
"I'm not going driving with him!" yelled Synderella.
"You'll be safe, after all what can happen to you inside a
APC?", replied the being of mysterious sexuality. "Oh Synderella,
don't forget to be home before midnight, after that you are
vulnerable to anything that might be floating around at the orgy, and
its better to be safe than sorry. Those who attend these orgies
aren't well known for safety. Oh, you'll also return to normal.
That could de a bit of a let down for someone.", he warned, and then
vanished with a poof. [Who was the other poof?]
"But its 9:30 now!", complained Synderella. "I'll be lucky if I have
five guys!"
"Stop standing around complaining and get into the APC.", commanded
Fred. The APC was sitting upon a squashed piece of metal that was
oozing grease. "Slimy grease balls. Watch out for the mess
Synderella." said Fred. "Errgghh yuck. I can see why they don't sell
lubricants in wog countries.", commented Fred as he followed
Synderella into the APC.
The trip to the palace was fairly uneventful except for the 12
houses, 8 cars, 2 trucks, and anything else that was stupid enough to
lie along the straight line between Synderella's house and the
palace. All of which Fred flattened with glee, and with the small
knife in his hand carved another 3 notches into the dashboard for the
three stupid people he managed to collect on the way. As Synderella
nimbly left the vehicle he was carving in a half-notch mumbling that
"After all one was pregnant..."
Synderella hurried up the stairs thankful that the trip was over.
Following the trail of scented steam, found the main sauna/spa room.
It was packed with people and was hard to hear anything except for
the constant groans and moans. As she shut the door, everyone turned
to stare at her, even her stepsisters, who seemed not to recognise
her. Suddenly she blushed, realizing that she was overdressed for
this, and removed what clothing she was wearing and looked for a
spare male.
As she looked, fierce glances of jealousy came from the women and the
men looked at her with lust filled eyes, but unable to break the hold
their partners' holds. Finally she found a spare male but was quite
disappointed with her find. As time crept on, so did the number of
disappointments but little did she notice that the Prince, who was as
yet unwed, was slowly but surely making his way around to her.
Giving up hope of ever gaining satisfaction and realising that
midnight was approaching, Synderella turned to leave but found
herself facing the Prince.
The Prince calmly took control of the situation and directed
Synderella towards bliss. Synderella lost all sense of time, and
just as she was beginning to think she would climax for once she
heard a clock ring out: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven,
eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve to the rhythm of the Prince.
"Midnight!" thought Synderella, with images of flat breasts, she
panicked. Pulling away from the Prince she left hurriedly,
forgetting to dress and ran out as quickly as possible.
Meanwhile the Prince was dumbfounded, why would any woman run away
just as she was about to climax? Distraught and disappointed that he
had missed out on such a fine pair, he set about to look for her.
The only clue, a body suit that could fit only one person properly.
The prince took the bodysuit to the local clothes makers in an effort
to find the tailor that made such an erotic garment. Without success
there, he sent forth his loyal servants to find the sensuous woman.
For months, the loyal men roamed the country demanding that each
female shapely enough, try on the bodysuit, with the good came the
bad, many of them returned blind, the sights they saw were that
horrible.
Finally they came to the house in which Synderella was held captive,
her stepsisters and stepmother all tried it on but they were all too
small. By chance Synderella entered the fitting room.
"Have you tried it on miss?", inquired one of the Prince's servants.
"No of course not you fool!", replied Synderella's stepmother.
"And she's not going to either!", yelled her her first stepsister.
"I'll bet you she does fit.", challenged the second stepsister
mockingly.
"What's the stake?" questioned the third.
"Our boyfriends."
"But you don't have one!"
Synderella tried it on at the insistence of the Prince's servant. As
she put on the body suit, her bust filled out to the exact dimensions
of the bodysuit. The Prince's servants grabbed Synderella and thrust
her outside into a waiting carriage (with Fred as the driver again!)
which sped off to the palace.
"Right, here she is.", said the prince to the chaplain standing next
to him, "Marry us or I'll have your heads cut off, one by one!",
threatened the Prince.
"Yeah....right", replied the chaplain with a slightly red face and
proceeded to marry the two.
The End
Epilogue.
---------
The Prince lived until he overcame himself one evening with the
837th position in the Karma Sutra.
Synderella died when she fell (forwards!) from a balcony at the
Prince's funeral. She survived the fall, but suffered a heart
attack when she realized how high she had bounced back up into
the air!
THE END
The Moral of this story.
------------------------
Too many bouncy cheesecakes can be a health hazard.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
===================================
Snow White and the Seven Dwarves.
===================================
By Lightning Bolt
The Cast
========
Narrator: Ford Prefect
Snow White: SYN ...
The Wicked Queen: Erika Matlen
The Prince: Radio Active
Dwarves: Dopey: Vagabond
Lusty: Night Stalker
Shorty: Disk Destroyer
Sleazy: Fearless Fred
Commie: Ivan Trotsky
Nosey: Infiltrator
SysOp: Craig Bowen
--------------------------
Scene I. Queen's Royal Chambers.
--------------------------------
Narrator: We travel back in time to a long past era, when women
knew their place was in the kitchen and men knew their
place was on top. Back in those good old days before
women's lib, even the Queen had to cook. And cook she
almost did. In fact, she was quite proud of the fact
that her cooking was so bad that nobody would or could
eat it, a jealously guarded skill. Until one day....
Queen: Rubber, Rubber, Rubber Band,
Who's are the bounciest cheesecakes in the land?
Voice: Meanest, Nastiest Queenie-Pooh,
I'm afraid my darling it isn't you!
I tell this true, I tell it right,
The bounciest cheesecake is made by Snow White.
Queen: Little Brat! I'll fix her! I'll have her thrown deep into
the woods where that old witch will take her into her
house made of lollies, and she'll get so fat she'll burst!
(Psychopathic laugh.....)
--------------------------
Scene II. Late afternoon in the forest.
---------------------------------------
Narrator: Well, it seems that the Queen has about as much
intelligence as she has cooking skills. Silly cow has
got her fairy tales mixed up. But, as they say in the
classics, on with the show...
Dwarves: Hi Ho, Hi Ho, A sleazing we will go...
[Dopey walks into Snow White.]
Dopey: Ouch! Oh, hey, that didn't hurt... hmm, this is a nice
soft tree.
Sleazy: I wonder if there's a pussy stuck up that tree that
wants a hand.
SysOp: Keep your hands off her Sleazy, (turns and yells) and
you'd better stop trying to take her bra off Lusty
or else!
Lusty: Or else what?!
SysOp: Or I'll tell the others just how long 9 inches really is!
Lusty: I was just checking that it was on properly. Please
don't tell!
Snow White: (Weeping) My mean nasty step mother the Queen has
deserted me here in the forest, I'm never going to find
my way home. (Sniff)
Shorty: Don't worry we'll help you wont we guys?
Lusty: (Grins)
Sleazy: (Grins)
SysOp: Of course we'll help you. But you look awfully tired.
Why don't you come back to our humble abode and rest a
while?
Snow White: Oh, (cheering up) you're all so kind, and this one
(looks at shorty) is so... so... fresh faced! He's so cute!
For all your kindness I'll cook you one of my cheesecakes.
Sleazy: She cooks too! Can you do roast lamb? Looks like we wont
need the sheep anymore.
--------------------------
Scene III. Queen's Royal Chambers.
----------------------------------
Narrator: So off they went back to the dwarves' house. Snow White
was so grateful for the dwarves' hospitality that she set
about cooking them a wonderful meal. Meanwhile, back at
the castle...
Queen: Rubber, Rubber, Rubber Band,
Who's are the bounciest cheesecakes in the land?
Voice: Meanest, Nastiest Witchy-Pooh,
I'm afraid my darling you're still number two!
Queen: Damn, I'll fix her once and for all! Let's see...
[FX: Leafing through a book sounds.]
Love potions... poison needles... toad spells...
POISON APPLE! Nah... not original enough...
Hmmm, I wonder, a poison beater, so the next cheesecake
she make.... WHAMMO! (Psychopatic laugh.)
--------------------------
Scene IV. The Dwarves' Home.
----------------------------
Narrator: The next week, when the dwarves had recovered from Snow
White's cooking, they happily went off to work again,
leaving Snow White alone in the house...
FX Knocking at door.
Voice: Hello, anyone home, I'm your neighborhood tupperware lady.
Snow White: Oh, come on in!
Old Lady (Who's actually the Queen in disguise): Would you be
interested in throwing a Tupperware party my dear?
Snow White: Oh, no thanks, people in this neck of the woods don't
go in for that sort of thing much.
Old Lady: Never mind, could I at least interest you in one of our
new lines. It's a beater specially designed for making
cheesecakes?
Snow White: Oh yes! It's just what I need! My last one didn't go down
all that well with the guys.
Old Lady: (Gives the beater to Snow White.) I should be off now.
Farewell my dear. (Exits. Psychopathic chuckle.)
--------------------------
Scene V. The Dwarves' Home that Evening.
----------------------------------------
Narrator: Well, the mean, nasty Queen's plan worked. Snow White
immediately started to cook the Dwarves a cheesecake, and
fell into a deep sleep as she started to beat the cream
cheese... that night when the dwarves returned from work...
SysOp: Look guys, Snow White's asleep! You haven't been trying
to chat her up have you Dopey?
Dopey: Ahhh, errrr, well, you see, ummmmm?
What was the question again?
Sleazy: Great, now is my chance to do some serious whipped
cream licking!
Shorty: That's disgusting! You should love and respect all women,
and... Hey! Put me down!
SysOp: Leave him alone Sleazy, (turns and yells) and get off her
Lusty! Let's figure out what we're going to do about this.
Dopey: I once read a book ya know.
(all wait expectantly)
Nosey: So?
Dopey: I just thought I should tell you that because you all think
I am dumb and things.
Nosey: (With a glint in his eye) When's the last time we had a
good gang bang?
Shorty: (About to say something but thinks better of it.)
Commie: Well, look at it this way guys, we don't have to eat any more
of her AWFUL cooking!
Shorty: He's got a point there.
Sleazy: How about Dial-A-Dino's. Let's see (opens yellow pages)
Dial-a-Slut, hmmm I'll just make a note of that,
Dial-A-Prince, there's one for Robbie!
Dial-a-Dino's here we are!
SysOp: That's it! A prince. She's under one of those cliche
spells that need a kiss to snap them out of it.
Sleazy: Can we get some food first? I'm starving! Besides, we
could always try licking whipped cream off various parts
of her anatomy to see if that will wake her up first.
SysOp: Hand me that phone. (Grabs Phone & Dials.)
Hello, Peasant's Princely Products?
I'd like one pair of Princely Lips, and make it FAST!
(Hangs up, thinks, picks up the phone.)
We're in the middle of the woods.
(Hangs up.)
Commie: You should have told them we'll pay VISA. (SMILES!)
FX Knock at door.
Prince: (Entering) [FX: Trumpet Fanfare] You called?
SysOp: What took you so long?
Prince: [FX: Trumpet Fanfare] Some damned wolf ran me off the
road on the short cut. So what seems to be the problem?
Sleazy: Can I at least TRY the whipped cream first?
SysOp: Can it Sleazy! (Turns to Lusty) PUT HER BACK LUSTY!
(To Prince) Ms White here needs your lips.
Prince: [FX: Trumpet Fanfare] No problem. (Kisses Snow White....!)
[FX: Lots of SLURP NOISES... then whatever is appropriate]
Snow White: (Sleepily) Oh... that was great. Do you respect me still?
Prince: [FX: Trumpet Fanfare] Yes, but I'd enjoy it more if you
wriggled a bit.
Narrator: And thus Snow White was revived, and went on to marry the
Prince. The Dwarves lived happily ever after on junk food,
as did Snow White and the Prince. What about the mean nasty
Queen you're wondering. She dropped one of her cheesecakes
which bounced off the floor, into the wall, ricoched off
the wall and killed her. Which just goes to disprove the
old saying; "If you can't whip them, beat them."
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
====================
Anarchistic Sports
====================
By Lightning Bolt.
This has been an exciting month in the sports world. With the first
Victorian Bullshit Spinning League match being held we decided to
cover the action in detail. Down at ringside was Lightning Bolt
reporting on the match between The Masked Avenger and The Mentat.
We settled down ringside at the first Bullshit Spinning League match
of the season. The crowd buzzed with excitement, and the boys in bay
13 led by The Lensman were already getting into the mood with a hail
of empties being tossed at The Mentat as he entered the arena, the
odds on favorite after Masky's trainer revealed he had a sore throat.
The Masked Avenger was wearing a stunning pink satin gown, compared
to The Mentat in his drab brass studded leather jacket. Tension was
mounting as the umpire brought them together to shake hands Masky
kneed Mentat in the groin to the pleasure of the crowd.
As the bell sounded signifying the beginning of the first quarter,
Masky didn't waste any time, attacking Mentat with a favorite of his;
his 18 foot long dick. Mentat was only momentarily stunned, and
countered with with 50 hard disks he bought using an NUI he hacked
one evening. The crowd was stunned as too was Masky who could only
manage a feeble attempt at explaining how fun it was to be with
Vagabond in response. Mentat was bearly taken back by Masky's move
and sent him reeling with his progamming abilities in eight languages
and followed it up with a low attack about his penis size being
comparable to a horse's. Luckily for Masky the bell sounded ending
the first quarter.
As the bell sounded a couple of minutes later, Masky was waiting for
Mentat who attacked with his Porche 944 that he bought using his
mum's AMEX card. Masky was well prepared for this one, and countered
with his brilliant exam results, and continued with the quality of
Fred's mustache and managed to again knee him in the groin while the
umpire wasn't looking. The crowd was going wild, a Mexican Wave
circled the ground to a slow chant of "Masky! Masky!". The Mentat was
still dumbfounded, and Masky continued ahead of Mentat until the end
of the first half.
Half time entertainment wasn't bad, with an arousing strip-tease by
Julie Alderman, followed by Thelonius Monk blowing his horn. As Monk
finished his rendition of the Peter Gunn theme, Mentat, clearly ready
for a hard fight in the second half entered the ring followed closely
by Masky.
The third quarter went by rather uneventfully, although Mentat scored
well with a brilliant attack with Big Mother and his WIFE.
The last quarter was where we expected the bullshit to really fly,
and we weren't disappointed. Masky was first on the offensive with a
well timed "Taxi Cab is my best friend" followed by "I beat up Radio
Active yesterday." The Mentat was obviously being out classed, but
wasn't yet beaten and came back with a condom story and how this hot
date he screwed last week had worn through the condom. Masky couldn't
handle that one, and Mentat quickly followed it with the dose of
gonorrhea he caught from a model and the syphilis he caught at the last
orgy he went to which knocked Masky to the floor. Before the umpire
could stop him, he hit Masky with his herpes infection caught when
Raquel Welsh was in Australia for the Logies gave him the worse head
job he'd ever had.
That was it. It was a clear win to Mentat, who then turned to the
crowd, enticing them with his sexual proficiency with a netball team
before a well thrown stubbie from The Lensman sent him running to the
changing rooms.
All in all, a good start to the new season. Next month will be
another exciting round with Cefiar facing Taxi Cab. Cefiar with his
25 Gigabyte bulletin board should be an even match for Taxi Cab and
his father's sicopaths.
Other results this month
------------------------
The amature wet T-shirt competition was won by Julie Alderman.
The amature g-string competition was lost by Masked Avenger.
Street Fighting
---------------
Geriatric Grannies 8 Gordie's Sicopaths 1
Bowen's Butchers 7 D.D. & the other Dwarves 3
Trotsky & The Red Army 1 Adolf's SS 0
Pub Crawling
------------
Fred 8
Lensman 8
Eliminator 15
Satan's Daughter 3
Craig Bowen 0
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
=======================
This Edition's Awards
=======================
Sysop of the month................................. Craig Bowen
I Want to be a Bastard Sysop of the month.......... Masked Avenger
Claytons Sysop of the month........................ Cefiar
Drunken Sysop of the month......................... Fearless Fred
Magical Sysop of the month (POOF!)................. Lance Link
Horny Sysop of the month........................... Night Stalker
Lost but not Forgotten Sysop of the month.......... The Alien
The Cheque is in the mail award.................... Lounge Lizzard
Mega Fugly Award................................... Alex Rogan
(Even fuglier than Masky)
Boring Award....................................... Vagabond
Spunky Bum Award................................... Fearless Fred
Spotty Bum Award................................... Sprite
I Refuse to Reveal my Bra Size Award............... The Bogan
Driver of the Month................................ Mandie
(Women drivers!)
Hoon of the Month.................................. Wodger Wabbit
Boring Cruise of the month......................... Vagabond Cruises
[Private joke - Ed.]
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
=======================
Quotes for this month
=======================
The Bogan: "How many have you got?"
Masked Avenger: "Eighteen!"
[I think he must be talking in millimeters! Ed]
SYN ...: "Ah, not that long..."
SYN ...: "I couldn't cope with any more than four..."
Masked Avenger: "Loosen up!"
SYN ...: "It's just really hard to work in..."
Masked Avenger: "You've got to cum!"
SYN ...: "...you can, but I wont."
The Bogan: "Can I?"
Craig Bowen: "I blew something as I came..."
Killer Tomato: "Dianne gets all the big parts."
Vagabond: "It's shaped for your hand."
Fearless Fred: "I've got to release this tomorrow."
Vagabond: "It's a real pain in the ass."
Masked Avenger: "What is it?"
Vagabond: "It's VERY slick."
Masked Avenger: "Gimme that!"
The Bogan: "I might."
Masked Avenger: "I haven't done that for so long..."
The Bogan: "It's disgusting and you shouldn't do it!"
Masked Avenger: "It's really hard!"
Royna: "Open your mouth..."
SYN ...: "See if I can get it in..."
Craig Bowen: "Look like she bit off more than she can chew."
Masked Avenger: "Oh God, that felt good!"
The Bogan: "I haven't had one in seven weeks."
Masked Avenger: "Are you into bondage?"
The Bogan: "No... Just perverted."
Walter Slayer: "I'm not perverted. I'm just a sexual experimentialist."
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
================================
Thanks to the Following People
================================
Mick & Raquel: Thanks for showing me around Sydney, I just wish I
could remember more!
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
=======================
E V I L A N G E L S
=======================
At present the Evil Angels team consists of the following:
FOUNDER: The Masked Avenger.
EDITOR: Lightning Bolt (AKA Fearless Fred)
AUTHORS: Fearless Fred (AKA Lightning Bolt)
Ford Prefect.
ARTIST: Ford Prefect.
LOGO BY: B.D.S. (The Yid)
PROGRAMMER: Vagabond.
(BSF Boys)
ASSOCIATE MEMBERS: Thelonius Monk The Lensman
Sprite Fizban
Disk Destroyer Ivan Trotsky
SYN ... Avalon ..
Craig Bowen Nixx
FAVORITE PEOPLE: Taxi Cab Blue Fox
(TO HASSLE) Captain Chaos Simply Sparks
Fire Fox Vagabond
Raster Blaster SYN ...
Disk Destroyer Ice Man (and Robbie)
Royna Masked Avenger
Julie Alderman Killer Tomato (Hi Stu!)
The Bogan Satan's Daughter (Mandie)
Cefiar Alex Rogan
YOU TOO can help rid the world of nerds- By purchasing any of
the following quality official Evil Angels Products:
"I hate the Masked Avenger" Badges $3.00
Evil Angels Badges... $3.00
Bi Bi P.I. Video... $25.00
Evil Angels T-Shirts...(Members Only) $15.00
Available in Light Blue and White, Black printing.
_______ _______
/ \______/ \
/ \ /|
/___/| Evil Angels |\___\ / |-------- NOW
| ______ | \ |-------- AVAILABLE!
| / E.A. \ | \|
| | Logo | |
| \______/ |
| Ridding the |
| world of nerds!|
|________________|
Printed versions of Anarchistic Tendencies Parts 1 - 11: $33.00
(Inflation!)
Remember... donations to Evil Angels are NOT tax deductible,
but WILL help rid the world of nerds! All money
raised will be used to throw a big party at the
end of the year.
+-----------------------------------+
| Donations & Payments can be sent: |
| |
| TO: The Masked Avenger |
| P.O. Box 528, |
| Mulgrave North, 3170 |
| Make cheques payable to CASH! |
+-----------------------------------+
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
Anarchistic Tendencies XI
(C) March 1989
YOU HAVE NO GODDAMNMUTHAFUCKING RIGHTS!
(If you still read this shit your crazy!)
***************************************
* NO PART OF THIS FILE MAY BE *
* PUBLISHED IN MASS MEDIA WITHOUT *
* THE AUTHORS' WRITTEN PERMISSION *
* AND HALF THE AUTHORS DON'T KNOW *
* HOW TO WRITE. THE OTHER HALF ARE *
* USUALLY DRUNK! *
* *
* - That's a god-damned warning - *
* *
***************************************
::: YOUR MOTHER SUCKS COCKS IN HELL :::
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
=======================
DISCLAIMER/DATCLAIMER
=======================
The authors have gone to a hell of a lot of trouble to ensure that
this file contains no offensive material. However, should you find
anything which you object to, STIFF SHIT! You can't sue us! This
file is written with the intent of producing a humorous file which
will be enjoyed by everyone, and no offense is intended towards any
person or persons no matter how often or in what context they are
mentioned. And if you're sick of reading about SYN ... don't despair,
we're sick of writing about her. She doesn't even go red anymore!
If anyone wants to be assistant editor apply to Fred.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
Evil Angels Will Return With Anarchistic Tendencies XII
-------------------------------------------------------
The Memoirs of Dianne Nichols.