Silicon Investor (SI) -- The First Internet Community

STOCKTALK

We've detected that you're using an ad content blocking browser plug-in or feature. Ads provide a critical source of revenue to the continued operation of Silicon Investor. We ask that you disable ad blocking while on Silicon Investor in the best interests of our community. If you are not using an ad blocker but are still receiving this message, make sure your browser's tracking protection is set to the 'standard' level.

Pastimes : Muffy's Story: A Short Story Game for Would Be Authors -- Ignore unavailable to you. Want to Upgrade?

To: TEDennis who wrote (497)	7/30/2001 3:22:43 PM
From: Roo	Read Replies (2) \| Respond to of 766

It quickly became evident to Bugs Pond (our hero?) that this was not a test and was, in fact, an actual emergency. The sound of a hundred military reptile feet schlopping through the sludge in crisp (yet sloppy) unison signaled that something ominous was about to happen. Looking around, Bugs realized that if he was ever going to save the day (as superheros are required to do by state law), he would probably never find an opportunity as good as this one. Naturally, it was about this time that the last anemic electrons flowed from the cheap Electro-Suck(tm) brand batteries in Goldie's self-powered Roach Coach glitter-hat and the entire sewer area was plunged into darkness. "Damn!" Thought the aging superhero instructor, "I should have known better than to get my batteries at the Dollar store." Still came the sloshing and slushing of a hundred? A thousand? Nay, TEN THOUSAND reptilian feet and above the watery din rose a curious hum. Starting out low and gutteral Bugs quickly recognized it as the native tongue of the sewer dwellers. It ebbed and flowed through the dark crevices of the subterranean land like so much liquid sewer sludge searching out every crack, every crevice, every loose stone and open floodgate. It rose from the darkness in waves of increasing intensity and pitch and began to undulate with the rhythm of the marching horde of reptiles. And above it all, bugs heard Muffy crying for help! "Looks like it's time" thought bugs as he popped in and adjusted his standard superhero-issue night-vision contact lenses. Scanning the room he could see a swarming throng of reptiles like a dark ocean heaving to and fro, splashing up onto the tables and against the walls only to recede and regroup for the next wave. "Cute" he remarked to himself remembering the times when young bugs and his SHA (Super Hero Academy) buddies would stuff themselves three-deep into the freight elevator in the girl's dorm and play "molecules." And like the elevator doors straining to contain the raucous payload of young superhero candidates, Bugs could see that the flimsy railing along the edge of the stage was not going to be able to take more than one or two more assaults. Soon the raucous reptilian payload below would break out onto the stage in a teeth-gnashing slam-dancing frenzy and be headed directly towards the cowering figure of Muffy. Even Muffy realized the real danger of her situation and opted to skip her final layer of nail polish in favor of hiding behind the (pathetically inadequate) microphone stand. The room was momentarily lit up by the blast of Bugs' patented Ejector Boots(tm) as he launched himself out of the muck and up onto the stage. He had calculated his launch trajectory perfectly to land him next to (oops! astraddle?) the microphone stand and (oooh! I'll bet that smarts!) between Muffy and the advancing horde. Just then, Precious (remember Precious?) came leaping up onto the stage gleefully ticking off the last few luminescent fireflies over their heads in the cavernous room. "Two-thousand three hundred forty seven!" She exclaimed triumphantly and then, "Gasp!" as she spotted the long slender rod of steel projecting from Bugs' pants. "Dammit! I could use a hand here!" yelled Bugs in a decidedly unsuperherolike manner as he struggled to disentangle the microphone wire from around his leg and free the cumbersome shaft from his crotch. "Oh!" cried Precious. "My!" added Muffy. "Gawwwd!!!!" Said Rear Admiral as he joined them on stage. Now without further ado, the writer decided he had collected enough of the original group together to stabilize the storyline, and found Errol the bizarre hamster-creature over in a far corner unwrapping a fat Cuban cigar. In slow motion, and with Bugs Pond (our somewhat clumsy hero) ineffectually yelling "Nooooooooooo-oooo-oooo-ooo-oo-ooo!" Errol proceeded to flip the top of the ornate cigarette lighter his dad had given him on his graduation from tank school, and in a moment of clarity before being blown to smithereens, realized that lighting up in the sewer was probably not the best idea his little hamster brain had ever concocted. Too late, the mixture of methane and sulphur ever-present in the sewer system ignited and in one fantastic moment it was all over as hundreds of thousands of marching, humming reptiles, hundreds of thousands of gallons of sewer sludge, and a handful of characters abandoned by the writer were vaporized into billions of trillions of flecks of crud ringing a gaping hole in the earth where the sewer system used to be. Remarkably, the very stage that Bugs Pond (our beleaguered hero), Muffy (our resident Blonde), Precious (our statistics-happy Autistic), and Rear (our welll... nincompoop) had all been standing on at the time of the giant explosion, was blown clear of the area, and landed intact in the reflecting pool of a hotel lobby 40 miles away. Aside from a minor amount of internal injuries from the G-Force of acceleration, they all looked around and were fairly satisfied with the fact that they had survived to look forward to new adventures. Suddenly, the Hotel Night Manager bustled into the room and challenged "Who broke my atrium window???"