Jim's Story
Chapter 1
Once there was an average Joe named Jim. Jim was always very sad because people would treat him badly. His friends would yell at him and throw things at the back of his head when he wasn't looking. Besides his friends, no one would ever talk to him, not even the most depraved, nymphomaniac sluts. Basically, Jim's life sucked dick. The only thing the poor lad had going for him was the letter e. Yes, you heard me, the letter e. Because of his extreme isolation from society, Jim had invented a fantasy world in which he had entire conversations with a letter of the alphabet, namely e. His conversations would typically run as follows:
Jim: e?
e: I'm here, Jim.
Jim: Oh, good. I was afraid you'd abandoned me.
e: I would never leave you. Trust me.
Jim: Thanks, e. So what's going on?
e: Not much. What's up with you?
Jim: Today one of my friends threw an object at the back of my head.
e: Again? What'd you retaliate with?
Jim: I was going to kill him, but I pulled my kick at the last moment.
e: Jim, you'll never get anywhere unless you resort to violence.
Jim: I'm pointless.
e: Yeah.
Jim: The universe needs to be rebooted, E.
e: Don't refer to me in uppercase.
Jim: Sorry.
e: Don't you have Tae Kwon Do tonight?
Jim: I should've killed him.
Alice: You've got mail.
Jim: <reading> "To Wong Foo: Thanks for Everything."
e: It's signed Julie Newmar.
Alice: It's currently 15:28:05 on [ae]6 April 25 (Thursday).
Jim: Crap, I do have TKD tonight.
e: You don't have to go.
Jim: Yes I do.
e: Are you sure you want to reboot the universe?
Jim: Nah, why ruin it for everyone else. Just destroy me.
e: If I destroy you, all objects philotically connected to you will be destroyed simultaneously.
Jim: Bob Dylan sucks. I mean really sucks. I can't stand his voice.
Alice: Sensors report temporal anomaly at relative (34, 20, 1) meters.
Jim: I don't remember creating a jump gate there.
e: A jump gate is a spatial anomaly, not a temporal one.
Alice: The temporal anomaly has stabilized with radius .95 m.
Jim: Shall we?
e: Lightning's striking again. If you want to enter, hayaku itta hoo ga ii ne.
Alice: Lingual auto-translation is disabled.
Jim: Lez go.
* The jump gate was entered by Jim. (And Alice, obviously.) *
Alice: Diagnostic complete. System status OK. Hits 210/388. Akira count is 161 of 180 possible.
Jim: What a headache.
Alice: It's currently 10:31:32 on [be]30 April 25 (Tuesday).
Jim: 1961?
e: e...
3: 3...
8: 8.
Jim: Oh, hi. What's my 20?
Alice: Our current location is San Jose International Airport, San Jose, California.
Jim: Why's my head tingling?
Alice: I detect the presence of a rather large field of e which is conducive to the utilization of Akira points without benefit of a psionic amplifier.
Jim: I thought the only known field of that type was on enigma-3.
e: You thought wrong.
Girl: <thinking> Lucy in the skyyyy with diamonds...
Jim: <loud feedback whine> Screeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee... Oh my god, oh my god, oh god, oh god...
e: Your ear's fine. The feedback in your brain is from talking and hearing yourself talk at the same time, then broadcasting it again.
Alice: Ambient temperature is 81 degrees F. It's partly cloudy with a 20% chance of thunderstorms.
3: Interesting - I've never seen that flavor of ice cream before.
Jim: I'd like to visit my mom. She's twelve now, you know.
8: That wouldn't be smart. That would not be smart. Brrr....
Girl: <thinking> I'd be safe and warm if I was in LA
California dreamin' on such a winter's day...
Prof. Feynman: Where the hell's my connecting flight?
Jim: So what do I do now, e, 3, and 8?
e: Go talk to that girl.
Jim: Didn't you read the introduction? "Besides his friends, no one would ever talk to him, not even the most depraved, nymphomaniac sluts". It's pointless.
3: So's this soup.
Jim uses 5 Akira points.
Jim: She doesn't even notice that I'm here. Her brian said so.
Alice: Spelling correction : brian -> brain
e: Of course not. Understand you not about temporal mechanics? People outside your lifespan can't see you.
Girl: <removing cap and smoothing hair> Hi there.
Jim: Hi yourself. What'cha doin'?
Girl: Just chillin'. Where ya from?
Jim: 1996.
Girl: Really? I'm from 2015 myself.
Jim: Wow - you're 23? You don't look a day over 19.
Girl: Yep.
Jim: Koko e ichido kita koto ga aru yo. Hen na kuukoo da ne.
Girl: Hontoo ni aru? Itsu?
Jim: 1993 ka 1994 datta.
Girl: Soo ka. Why are you back here?
Jim: 1996 is stupid. Everyone disses me there. I have nothing to look forward to, and exactly 35 years from now a space-time gate appeared next to my place of residence. So I stepped in.
Girl: Oh, of course. I enjoy your earring, by the way. Did e have anything to do with this?
Jim: e? Did you?
e: Well ... maybe. You've gotta admit it turned out pretty well, though. I mean, someone will actually talk to you without pelting you with stuff.
Jim: My roommate never threw anything at me.
3: That's because he was never awake.
Jim: So what's your name?
e: e.
3: 3.
8: 8.
Alice: Autonomic Learning System (ALS).
Girl: I can't tell you that.
Jim: OK. I'm Jim.
Girl: Pleased to meat you all.
Jim: Hey, you want an ice-cream?
Girl: Mmm. Mm. Mmmm. Sounds good.
--------------
Jim's Story
Chapter 2 (guest author, Kralor)
Jim: It is good. Here, have a scoopie.
Girl: Heehee. Your use of the diminuitive form is charming.
Jim: Senawa rikuu soo nanenaru.
Girl: Soo ka.
Jim: Just out of curiosity, was there a Freudian intention in the word
"meat" you used in place of "meet" several sentences ago?
Alice: The inquiry you have made is simply a misunderstanding of dialect.
Girl: Eh? Nani? Who IS that thing?
Alice: I am the Autonomic Learning System, or ALS. Pleased to meat you.
Jim: Just out of curiosity, was there a Freudian intention in the word
"meat" you used in place of "meet" several sentences ago?
e: Here they go again. Maybe somebody should throw me.
3: I'd try to, but 3 don't know if 8 could catch you.
8: It'd be virtually impossible; static cling is late binding my arms inline.
8 breaks the static cling with a mutable, using 20 Akira points of its
infinite supply.
Jim: Wait, wait...don't reset the universe just yet. <sighs> I'll stop,
I guess. Even you guys won't let me be myself.
e: Sure we will, Jim. We revel in your existence. At last someone has
noticed us and assigned us some significance.
8: It's about damn time, too.
e: Quiet. It's just that to allow a temporal causality loop, like that
you nearly created, would be more damaging to the universe that a clean
restart. The causality loop will be SIGBUS trapped and cold stopped, not
allowing for reallocation of intelligence and sentience objects. It
could take cent-eons to sort it all out. If e am thrown, then
REALITY.SYS makes a clean reboot.
Jim: I guess I should be more careful sometimes, huh?
e: You don't recognize the strength of your chi.
3: At times, it is necessary that you exercise more caution.
8: This is some damn good ice cream!
Girl: Yeah! <slurps>
e: You see, you are one of the base classes of our program, ALL.EXE.
Jim: Nani??? I am? Why? Why do I feel so inferior if I am really such
a basic portion of the universe; why do I feel so insignificant?
e: You're actually the base class of humanity.
Jim: Wow!
e: Yes.
Girl: So you mean...I'm derived from him?
3: That's right. All humans are. You just happen to have your "gender"
data member set to "_FEMALE", and you were instantiated slightly later in
the program.
8: You are the base class of humans with vaginas.
Girl: I see.
e: But, Jim, you must understand...your being the base class is a
tremendous responsibility! Should an instability arise in you...
3: The program is for naught.
Alice: Correction: naught -> naught.
e: ...yes. All of humanity will inherit your instability.
Jim: You haven't answered my question, I note.
e: Ah, yes, your feelings of insignificance. Well, consider if you will,
the problem with being a base class for humanity. It was necessary
to...er....
Girl: What? What is it?
3: It is most unfortunate, is what it is.
Alice: That which is is. Alice, while Brad had had had had had had had
had had had had a better effect on the teacher. I kicked his ass. Sheeeiit.
e: To make you a suitable base, we had to make you abstract.
Jim: Why? Why not just make me virtual and then redefine everything?
What pure virtual functions do I have?
e: Er...uh...someone throw me.
3: We don't have to throw you. You are asking too many questions,
Jimmu-san. It is best that you do not know.
Jim: Like hell! Dammit, you tell me NOW or I will cut off my fingers!
All your instances of class whatever-I-am will be club-limbed freaks! Is
that what you want?
e: Jim, listen to yourself. You are threatening me. e have been here
for you for six years! Why are you turning on me?
Jim: I don't know. I don't understand.
8: Hey, 8 was here, too.
3: He got you out of a cartoon character's nose during a Yahtzee game.
8: Apparently he yanked you out of his ass.
Jim: Hey, guys, guys. Please, please. Just tell me what pure virtual
functions I have.
e: e'm not sure that would be wise. How would we know you wouldn't just
use your hidden v_table pointer member and activate them using a derived
redefined version?
Jim: I promise.
e: Okay, alright. Your pure virtual functions include haveFun() and
haveSex(float ho).
Girl: Wait...you mean...
3: Yes. Even were Jim willing and ready to have sex, even with a willing
female (or male, as the case may be, 3 mutter under my breath) then he
would be unable. An object of his class is an invalid call to a virtual
function. His pointer offset is undefined. Any attempt on his part to
have sex would be to an undefined segment of memory, and incredibly
dangerous to the stability of ALL.EXE, not to mention REALITY.SYS and
ENTROPY.SYS.
Girl: Oh, yeah? We'll see about that...
- Continued in Chapter 3
----------------
Jim's Story
Chapter 3
Last time, on Jim's Story:
e: You see, you are one of the base classes of our program, ALL.EXE.
Jim: Nani??? I am? Why? Why do I feel so inferior if I am really such
a basic portion of the universe; why do I feel so insignificant?
e: You're actually the base class of humanity. To make you a suitable base, we had to make you abstract.
Jim: What pure virtual functions do I have?
e: Your pure virtual functions include haveFun() and haveSex(float ho).
Girl: Oh, yeah? We'll see about that...
And now, part 3.
Jim: Hmmm. So any effort on my part to have sex will result in the universe crashing? I can deal with that.
3: I'm afraid it's not your decision to make. Since you're abstract, the laws of probability (nihongo de: kakuritsu) are written so that for you, slapping shoes is a strict impossibility.
Jim: Slapping shoes?
8: Knockin' boots. Doin' the wild thing. Takin' ol' one eye tuna fishin'. Slappin' the salami in a not-by-yourself way.
Girl: There isn't even a quantum low probability of him getting down?
3: <flushes bright red> Uhh... um, no.
Jim: There has to be a way out of this. Let me cogitate. Alice, full-sensory VR, if you please.
Girl: Anything is possible when you're dealing with quanta.
Zebra: Hickory dickory dock. The bitch was suckin' my cock.
Girl: Excellent! I was just thinking that we needed a new character, although one that wouldn't ruin this story by introducing unnecessary scatological references. Credit is due, though, to Andrew Dice Clay.
Zebra: What... what are you doing? You better not be... Oh, cool. Oh, gross. Oh, cool. What'd you have to do that for? Sorry. By the way, that's from Ben Dover's English Muffins.
2]=> Girl expends 112 Akira points to destroy Zebra. 3 and 8 are surprised.
3 + 8i: 3 and 8 am astonished. Where you learn to do that?
Girl: Oh, you silly omniscient beings. Where you think?
3: I think with my penis.
8: That's why you always make such a small contribution.
Girl: All right, guys.
3: Where'd you get that brilliant insult from?
8: My brian.
Alice: Spelling correction : brian -> brain
Girl: That's so second grade.
3: Need I remind you that e = 3? Clearly I am superior.
8: Need I remind you that 3e = 8? It takes both of you multiplied together to even equal me.
3: OK, bitch, you dead now!
8: Bring it on!
c: Hey! Break it up!
(3, 8): Oh, no! It's Aunt c! Now we're in for it.
c: 3, you're going to have to behave yourself while e's out getting tea. Got that straight, 8?
8: No.
c: Do I have to kill you?
3: throw (c);
---> irc.xorinia.dim.gov: c is banned from channel #multiverse
3: Lookit dat dope inbounds pass! Yo' sorry ass can't stop dat!
8: <calmly> Now I'm mad.
Girl: That's it! Bob!
==> Samurai Bob appears.
Bob: Hai.
Girl: 3 and 8 are arguing. Arguing is prohibited.
Bob: Hai.
~ Bob deals with the problem. After he's done, Bob throws himself.
Girl: Jeez, finally.
Girl: ...
Girl: Hmmm. It doesn't seem as if anyone else is here. What should I do? A, wakatta.
> LOOK
Ice-Cream Shop
You are standing in a small ice-cream shop in San Francisco. The prices in here are outrageous, at least for the 1960's, and what's more, your favourite flavour hasn't even been invented yet. There are a few scattered chairs lying on the floor, and a spotless mop rests in the corner. Obviously the shopkeeper (a very unfriendly-looking chap) isn't into cleaning. Next to you, a door leads outside.
Your sword is emitting a faint blue glow.
> LOOK OUTSIDE
Outside the ice-cream shop is your typical urban landscape. Cars with tailfins of various shapes and sizes jam the street, and dense smog obscures your vision after about 200 feet. The constant honking is giving you a massive headache.
> LOOK AT CHAIRS
Upon further examination of the chairs, you realize that one of them is actually a boy in disguise. He is curled up in the fetal position and sucking his thumb. You recognize the boy as your companion, Jim.
> GET MOP
You move toward the mop. The shopkeeper grumbles from behind you. "You ain't gettin' that as long as I'm here."
> SAVE
> KILL SHOPKEEPER WITH SWORD
You draw your sword, which is now glowing bright blue. The shopkeeper squirms out of his jacket and whips out a nasty-looking sub-machine gun. A twenty-minute duel ensues. Unfortunately, he kills you in the end.
You are dead.
> LOAD
Ice-Cream Shop
> ECHO
The shop, which moments before was filled with the incredibly irritating sound of the automobiles outside, suddenly becomes eerily quiet. The shopkeeper looks around and ... smiles? At you, no less. "Gee, thanks," he says. "That's been driving me crazy. Here, take this. It's hot in here anyway." He gives you his jacket as a token of appreciation.
> NAME JACKET "BITCH MAGNET"
> WEAR BITCH MAGNET
You are wearing Bitch Magnet.
> GET MOP
You get the mop.
> MASTURBATE
I don't know how to 'MASTURBATE'.
> WAKE BOY UP
Jim groggily gets to his feet.
Jim: Thanks, Girl. I tend to lose track of time when I'm in VR.
Girl: So, did you find a solution?
Jim: Think so. Hey, where's 3 and 8?
Girl: They were being annoying. I had Bob take care of them.
3 & 8: We're back now.
Jim: And e?
Girl: e's at tea.
e: e's not at tea anymore.
Jim: So everyone's here then.
3: The Zebra's not -- Girl destroyed him.
8: Oh, Mr. Morals, and who threw Aunt c?
Jim: Zebra? And who the hell is Aunt c?
e: The Zebra is unimportant; he was just a space-filler. c ... well, you'll have to find that out for yourself.
Jim: All right, fine. Listen up, everyone. While I was in VR ...
Alice: ... while he was in VR he found a solution to the no-sex problem.
Jim: Well, not a solution exactly, it's ...
Alice: ... more of a loophole. You see, Jim is the base class of humanity, ...
Jim: ... and as such, I am declared abstract, with pure virtual functions. So I got to thinking.
8: 3 does that with 3's penis, which is exactly as long as 3's IQ, which is 0, I might add (but not divide by).
Jim: An abstract class can't be instantiated. Therefore, I shouldn't even physically exist.
e: No!
|| SYS18112: Page fault in module jim.cpp. Program ALL.EXE will be terminated abnormally. ||
e: Quick! Someone throw me!
3, 8, Girl, Alice, Zebra: throw (e)
- To be continued in Chapter 4
-----------------------
Jim's Story
Chapter 4 (guest author, Orenji-sama)
In the last chapter--
Jim: An abstract class can't be instantiated. Therefore, I shouldn't even
physically exist.
e: No!
|| SYS18112: Page fault in module jim.cpp. Program ALL.EXE will be
terminated abnormally. ||
e: Quick! Someone throw me!
3, 8, Girl, Alice, Zebra: throw (e)
And now...<drum roll> Chapter 4:
#include <quark.h>
#include <space.h>
#include <_time.h>
ParticleCollection initUniv()
{
ParticleCollection universe;
universe.comp = new neutron[1000000000000000000000000000000000000000];
beginTime();
do
{neutronStability--;}
while (universe.stable == true); //no longer true when neutronStability
//is less than 5000.
bigBang(universe);
}
At DBX Debugger reads(neutronStability == 1987832795553),
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
e: OW! Ow! Oh e, that hurt! Ooooh.
Girl: What happened? Where are we?
e: Damn! e was thrown several different directions!
3: 3 can't believe he did that! Stupid fucker.
Girl: Who? Jim?
3: Tampering with ALL.EXE is inadvisable, even for experienced reality
technicians like ourselves! For a member of the program itself to tamper
with it is unthinkable! 3 can't believe we avoided that abnormal
termination!
e: Am e all here? Can anyone see me?
Girl: I can't see a thing. Where's Alice? Where's 8?
3: Where's that Zebra? 3 can't see anything either.
e: Neither can e! What's going on here? My blindness is not part of the
program.
3: We're far outside the boundaries of the program, I'm afraid.
Alice: Alert -- DBX Debugger reads (neutronStability == 3333833338).
e: What's that?? e don't remember coding neutronStability.
3: You coded your throw, though. Where did you throw yourself? Where's
your catch block?
e: Somewhere in 8's code. e think it was somewhere in PRIMORDL.EXE.
Where is 8?
************************* Elsewhere...
8: Jim? Jim, are you there?
Jim: 8! What's happening?
8: You made us throw e! Sheeeiit. Do you know how lucky you are to be
instantiated?
Jim: Oh, yeah. I remember that now. I was a mop for a while.
8: Soo ka. Want some ice cream?
Jim: Sure. So <lick> what's going on? Where is everything?
8: Over there somewhere. You can't see it from here.
Jim: Can't see what?
8: Everything. That is what you asked about...8 presumed you mean the
data members of the ALL.EXE classes, right?
Jim: Well, yeah...what else is there?
8: <chuckles> So much more, Jimmy-sama. There is myself.
Jim: You're not a member of ALL.EXE?
8: 8 wrote it. 8 couldn't very well be instantiated outside a program.
Jim: So what are you?
8: 8'm hardware.
Jim: You're WHAT???
8: Yes. I'm actually several major universe IRQs.
Jim: Whoa!
8: Thank you. Are you cold?
Jim: No. Why?
8: There's no heat, really..
Jim: Oh. <shivers>
8: There should be soon...
Alice: Alert -- DBX Debugger reads (neutronStability == 333388).
Jim: What's that? What's going on?
8: We've been thrown to PRIMORDL.EXE. Bad timing, though...the Big Bang
is coming up somewhere here, and 8'm afraid that your instantiated form
can't survive...guess 8'll have to revise this code...
Jim: How am I even instantiated? I thought I was...<sniff>...abstract.
8: You were. 8 overloaded your virtual functions with dummy functions,
just to see if 8 could. More as a test of reading through e's code than
anything....he's got a pathetic style. Extraneous namespaces
everywhere. Damn annoying. Plus, he uses "auto" all the time.
Jim: Eh?
8: Yeah.
Alice: Alert -- DBX Debugger reads (neutronStability == 8388).
Jim: Where is she?
8: With everything.
Jim: Soo ka.
8: We'd better find somewhere to hide before the Big Bang exploits the
instabilities in your instantiated form.
Jim: How much time do we have?
Alice: Alert -- DBX Debugger reads (neutronStability == 5002).
8: Uhh...
--to be continued...?
----------------------------------
Jim's Story
Chapter 5
Last week, on er:
8: We've been thrown to PRIMORDL.EXE. Bad timing, though...the Big Bang
is coming up somewhere here, and 8'm afraid that your instantiated form
can't survive...guess 8'll have to revise this code...
Jim: Soo ka.
8: We'd better find somewhere to hide before the Big Bang exploits the
instabilities in your instantiated form.
Jim: How much time do we have?
Alice: Alert -- DBX Debugger reads (neutronStability == 5002).
8: Uhh...
And now, part 5.
Jim: How much time?
8: Well, time won't even be created for another 10^-34 seconds, so it's meaningless right now. Duh.
Alice: Alert -- DBX Debugger reads (neutronStability == 5000).
8: The universe has become unstable. You will now be permanently destroyed. Sorry about that, J-ster.
Jim: No! This can't all be for nothing! I've gotta get out of here before
Alice: You've got mail.
From: Society of e <friends-of-e@xorinia.dim.gov>
Subject: The Big Bang (f/mmmmmmmmmmm ... )
Apparently-To: all-entities@taco.universe12.org
Date: Sun, 28 Apr 13267384122 B.C.E. 11:17:40 -0000
The Big Bang
The crowd gathered around my naked wife was finished. She was
extremely exhausted after masturbating in front of the forty-seven men,
many of which were total strangers. The huge black
-- Size Limit Exceeded! [48T] --
Alice: End message. Thank you for using DimNet.
8: 8 do not remember coding that in the program. No siree. 8 am obviously victim of malicious hacker. 8's unbelieveably keen instincts point to 3. Too bad 3 is not here.
Alice: Query to 8 -> Was everyone destroyed?
8: Yes. Everything was destroyed.
Alice: My logic circuits deduce, then, that Jim was destroyed.
8: Your logic circuits are obviously functioning properly.
Alice: What about Bob, the samurai?
8: Bob no longer exists either.
Alice: That is not as good.
Robed Being Sporting Unisex Haircut: Tadaima.
8, Alice: Hi there.
Alice: Why was I not destroyed?
8: For the same reason that e, 3, Girl and Zebra still exist. Duh.
Alice: Please clarify.
Robed One: They weren't in PRIMORDL.EXE when bigBang(universe) was called. Indeed, they were outside the program, outside the program they were, they were. Hee hee!
8: Shush. Yes, Robed Entity is correct. The catch block for e is in 8's code, as e e-self postulated earlier. And that code flushes any objects in a critical situation to the file UNIV12xx.MEM. So you, e, 3, Girl, and Zebra were all saved to disk.
Alice: Wicked. So if I am currently on disk right now, why am I here.
8: 8 re-instantiated you in the new universe.
Alice: Why have you not created the others.
8: 8 was about to get around to that. Maybe if you stopped asking so many questions.
Robed Thing: Do it! Do it!
8: Deity e, 3; e.load("UNIV12xx.MEM", 0); 3.load("UNIV12xx.MEM", 1);
e: Returned have e. Many thanks, 8-sama. e am eternally grateful.
3: 8, you bastard. How the hell are you?
8: HumanWoman Girl; Girl.load("UNIV12xx.MEM", 2);
Girl: Word up. Hey... where's Jimmy?
8: In case you haven't figured it out yet, the Robed Being With The Earring is our very own Mr. Jim. A more contrived plot twist 8 cannot imagine. Come on, we're all waiting for an explanation.
Jim: OK, OK, get this. OK. OK. All right. Um, yeah. So.
8: The little bugger was in 8's fuckin' external cache.
Jim: Yeah!
Girl: Huh?
8: As Jim already knows, 8'm hardware. 8 was running PRIMORDL.EXE when the Big Bang occurred. Jim happens to be a very frequently accessed object in this universe, you know.
e: So when 8 jumped to ALL.EXE, 8's cache was flushed and out came Jim?
Jim: What an ego trip.
Girl: I know something of his I'd like to frequently access.
Jim: That can be arranged, now that my member (uh huh huh uh huh) functions are no longer pure virtual. Why don't we go somewhere ... more private?
8: I'm done creating the universe.
e: How's about that hotel in Gatlinburg, Tennessee?
***
Gatlinburg, Tennessee
[ae]1.01.14
Jim: Oh, wow! I remember this place! I took a band trip here in 8th grade! Say, I just thought of a dream I had about my band instructor, Miss M. She was naked, riding a tricycle in circles in this room with bubbles floating everywhere.
3: Bubbles!
8: Maybe my cache was invalidated. That would explain these freaks.
e: Actually, your band instructor is here, because you are in 8th grade. Well, you aren't, but he is.
* An obviously younger but still extremely handsome boy enters the room. *
Young Jim: Eh?
Girl: <smacking lips> Double the pleasure, triple the fun!
- to be continued
------------
Jim's Story
Chapter 6 (guest author, Matt)
Last week on PIGS IN SPACE::
e: Actually, Jimmu, your band instructor is here, because you are in 8th
grade. Well, you aren't, but he is.
* An obviously younger but still extremely handsome boy enters the room. *
Young Jim: Eh?
Girl: <smacking lips> Double the pleasure, triple the fun!
Now, the part of six->
3: Isn't that from a gum commercial?
c: That's the one with the blonde lesbian twins, right?
3: Yeah. It's pretty e.
e: I am good. I am an adjective. Aaah....
Jim: Let's not get distracted here..remember I'm fully instantiated now!
So any females willing to ride me may commence to do so at any time.
c: Am I female? I am an aunt. I think that makes me female.
Jim: You are a letter, I note.
e: Want some tea?
Zebra: Thank you.
8: I would not advise an attempt to use your haveSex(float ho) dummy
function. It was not intended for that purpose. I just used it to
instantiate you...
* Jim uses 5 Akira points and rips open Girl's shirt *
8: Nice talking to you. Jesus.
Girl: Eh?
Jim: Yummy! *inserts his face between her breasts and goes "WBLLBLLB!"*
8: Jimmu-sama....
Jim: Oasis and Emehcs suck!
e
<newline>
What is the point of this soup?
The seventh dimension is deodorant.
That is all...
*sits down hard* Ow...ah...ouch. What the fuck is happening?
8: haveSex is just a stub function! Why the hell don't you listen to me?
Young Jim: Wow!
Girl: What's wrong? Never seen boobies before?
Zebra could see Jim was in a very excited state as he scrambled in,
but he was not expecting it when Jim said, "Oh e I've got to
have a wank right now!", and with that he started to unzip his fly.
Zebra's eyes grew large as, in the gloom, he saw his first view of
another male's erection. As Jim was far enough into puberty to be
sexually mature, his cock was much larger than Zebra's and the sight of
it erect was doing strange things to Zebra. Jim noticed the
fascination that his manhood held for his zebra and out of devilment
he grabbed the zebra's ankle and guided his hoof to the rigid member.
Zebra: Your meat is so long and full. Fuck me in the goat ass!
Young Jim: OK!
Jim: Wait! Stop! Just hold on a minute! What do you think you're doing
boy? That's no way to treat an expensive musical instrument!
Young Jim: Goddammit Daddy! You know I love you...but you've got a hell
of a lot to learn about ROCK AND ROLL!
*Young Jim usurps 15 Akira points from Jim and plunges his erect member
into the Zebra's ass.*
Zebra: Neeeeigh!!!
c: That's not very e.
e && 3: I need some more tea. Maybe some JD.
*Young Jim gains 40 Akira points by ejaculating in the Zebra's ass.*
Young Jim: Aaaah.
Zebra: I saw the Great Seal of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts when I
came that time. Oh, God...
Young Jim: What?
Zebra: I'm late! My period is late!
Girl: What?
Zebra: Oh, shit!
<POP>
donaldso: hEy D00Dz!!! b00ta baata b00t! AnYoN3 wAnT a BaG3L??!?!??!?
Jim: <chuckling> You're zebra offspring. e.
e: What?
Jim: Oh, sorry, I was using your adjective form.
c: e, didn't I tell you not to let your adjective form spread around?
8: Aren't you banned from this channel? Why the hell do you keep
cropping up?
c: I'm a bot. I can do anything. I have been sent to terminate the
WaReZtExxT beast. Do you still wish to oppose me?
8: You're getting rid of donaldso? Oh, go right ahead, then.
donaldso: m3?????!?!??!!! jUsT iGnOr3 m3. iM a r3tArD s0m3t1m3zZZZ!!!!
c: Sorry. According to my program you must be terminated...buh bye now.
Girl: Jim, you must do something!!
Jim: Are you referring to me, or the bestial younger version of myself?
Girl: He's a little busy at the moment.
Zebra: Yeah, yeah, YEAH! Fuck my ass harder!!! Oh WIILBBUUUURRRRRR...
Young Jim: <spooges tawny>
Girl: Jim, why won't you save your friend? Are you not the hero I
thought you were?
Jim: Hero?? I'm fucking a zebra in the ass and you're talking to me about
heroism. I really don't want to hear it at this point in space-time.
e: You know what? I just realized that Emehcs means "Scheme!" Hee hee.
3: Damn, you're quick. How'd you get to be the leader again?
Jim: Besides, he's not my friend. He tried to brian me with a bagel!
Alice: Spelling Correction: brian -> brain.
c: User donaldso is banned from channel #primordsoup. Termination will
occur if he is not removed in six point four seconds from three point two
seconds ago.
Alice: Alert -- DBX debugger reads (neutronStability==5000)
donaldso: fUq oFF AnD g0 t0 h3Ll!
c: You are about to be terminated.
Girl: Jim, save him!
Jim: Do you promise to try to suck my cock later, even if my stub causes
problems?
Girl: Well...maybe...
Jim: What do you mean?
Girl: Clean cock never tasted all that great...tell you what. I'll do it
if you stick it up his ass first.
Jim: Whose?...oh, NO....
Young Jim: What are you looking at me for?
-- To be continued in Chapter 7
Jim's Story
Chapter 7
When last we left our intrepid Hero:
8: You're getting rid of donaldso? Oh, go right ahead, then.
donaldso: m3?????!?!??!!! jUsT iGnOr3 m3. iM a r3tArD s0m3t1m3zZZZ!!!!
c: Sorry. According to my program you must be terminated...buh bye now.
Girl: Jim, why won't you save your friend? Are you not the hero I thought you were?
Jim: Do you promise to try to suck my cock later, even if my stub causes problems?
Girl: Clean cock never tasted all that great...tell you what. I'll do it if you stick it up his ass first.
Jim: Whose?...oh, NO....
And now, part 7.
Jim: Up his ass? Up his ASS? I ain't stickin' my dick in THERE! What kind of a family story is this, anyway?
Girl: Just shut up and fuck yourself in the butt, man. I mean, jeez, it's not like you haven't wanted to since you were 5 and swallowed that penny. It turned you on when your mom dug through your shit in the diaper, didn't it.
Jim: So the question is, how far would I go for a little pussy?
Girl: My pussy is bubble-gum.
donaldso: h3Y, h3lP m3 oUt h3r3, d00dZ!!
Jim: e dammit. <sigh> Hey, Alice.
irc.xorinia.dim.gov: donaldso has been banned from #primordsoup by c
Connected to irc.pheasant.org.
irc.pheasant.org: Welcome, ursetto! Make yourself at home. Remember, no Bots allowed!
=> /join #wHoR3
: ursetto has created channel #wHoR3
=> /mode * +i
*** Mode change '+i' on channel #wHoR3 by ursetto (invite-only)
=> /invite donaldso *
*** donaldso has joined channel #wHoR3
=> /mode * +o donaldso
*** Mode change '+o donaldso' on channel #wHoR3 by ursetto (chanop privileges)
=> /whois donaldso
*** donaldso is donaldso@boota.baata.boot.gov (donaldson christopher patrick)
*** on channels: #@wHoR3
*** on irc via server irc.pheasant.org
*** donaldso is an IRC operator
=> /leave #wHoR3
Alice: Logged off.
Jim: Aa. Now everyone can be happy (except, of course, for me).
c: You bastard. I can't touch him on an invite-only channel. But at least he's not in this universe anymore.
Girl: So? You gonna clean out little Jim's cornhole? Here, try this battery brush.
Jim: <pensing> Something's fishy here, but I can't put my finger on it.
Girl: I'm about to let you put your finger in me.
Jim: O. Hey e?
e: I'm here, Jim.
Jim: Oh, good. I was afraid you'd abandoned me.
e: I would never leave you. Trust me.
Jim: Thanks, e. So, d'ju instantiate the Zebra?
e: Nope, shore didn't.
3 || 8: Hmmm. Neither did we. That's mighty strange.
Jim: And it couldn't've been Alice. That leaves only...
All except Girl: Girl!
Jim: But you're not really Girl, are you? I've known her for too long - Girl would never force me to plug and chug with my younger self. That means you must be ... you're ... I can't say it ... mmmmm ... K!
e: Ow!
* It begins to rain heavily. *
K: HahahahaHA. Foolish jizzlobbers. To think you would let your guard down ...
3: throw (K);
K: ... at a time like this. I had you all totally convinced.
8: I knew it was you all the time.
Jim: I knew that wasn't the real young me, just a cheap facsimile.
Alice: Warning: K detected somewhere nearby.
K: Now, young Skywalker - you will die.
e: Never!
e approaches K with awesome speed, and they become entwined in a battle no one is likely to ever fully understand. The tremendous purple powers of e seem exactly balanced by the incredible force of K. e receives lusty catcalls and cheers from the audience, especially Jim. As the battle rages on, the spectators begin to feel all tingly from the excess energy in the air. e suddenly takes the upper hand, stuns K and opens an e-portal for the others.
e: Quick, everybody! K can't follow without destroying both of us!
Jim: Catch ya later, e! Boioioioioioioioing... <Jim enters the portal.>
3: At last... home-cooked meals.
8: And ice-cream [sl(u)rp]. Lez go. <3 and 8 do the portal thing too.>
Alice: Chotto matte kure ... <Alice jumps in.>
The Zebra and the facsimile of Young Jim, now very much in love, decide to remain in 1991 to raise a family.
e: Here I come! <e dashes toward the portal.>
Unfortunately for e (and the rest of the universe, many believe), K recovers. Just as e is about to repatriate, K takes aim and hits e dead-on in the back. e crumples to the ground.
***
Jim: Jesus Who. We were lucky to get out of there alive.
3: Mmmmm. Spaghetti.
Jim: What is this place?
8: It's our hometown. Or home dimension, to be exact.
3: Yeah! Meatballs!
8: This place is e's mansion, but 3 and I live here along with the retarded butler. Excuse me. *Mentally challenged* butler.
Jim: You guys have a butler?
8: Well, yeah. When you keep the multiverse in order, who has time to clean?
Jim: I thought cleaning was a maid's job.
3: Shhh! The retard'll hear you.
8: That was pretty sexist. "I thought cleaning was a maid's job"?
Jim: It wasn't sexist. A guy can be a maid. You'd think omniscient entities would know that already.
Alice: Yes, you'd think.
3: Ippon!
8: <muttering> ... douche bag ... <out loud> Okay, I'm just gonna kick back and relax now that everything's back to normal.
Jim: Hey... hey, hey, hey. Holy Fat Albert! Wait a second!
8: Time has no meaning here, since we're not subject to fourth-dimensional whims.
Jim: All right, but where's e???
3: I thought e was with you.
Alice: e did not follow us through the portal.
Jim: O, no! I hope e's all right! Do you think e's still back there with <shudder> that thing?
8: There's only one way to find out!
Jim: What is it?
8: I'm not sure. But there's only one way.
Alice: The author of this story must come up with an ingenious yet completely plausible plot device to help us locate e, or the story will come to a dead end.
3: Hmmm.
8: I see.
Jim: Ah.
3: ...
8: Hmmm.
Jim: Ho hum.
3: Maybe he just needs a little time.
8: Yawn.
Butler: Master 3?
3: Not now! We're busy waiting.
Butler: But sir...
8: He said get out of here!
Butler: Yes, sir.
Jim: You guys treat him so badly. I can't believe you pose as benevolent creatures.
8: I make no pretense of being benevolent.
3: Nor do I. e's the sissy one.
Butler: Master 8?
8: What the fuck do you want, you stupid retard?
Butler: While I was cleaning your room (a maid's job, the butler mutters under his breath) I found this toy Super-Duper Auto-Homing Crystalline Signal Receiver. Remember? The toy you needed 1275 UPC symbols for? Remember all those boxes of Frosted e you ate? Even though you were allergic to it? And remember when e accidentally swallowed the Transmitter? I've been searching e's excrement and I haven't found it yet.
3: What does this have to do with anything?
The butler throws up his hands in exasperation and disappears. In his absence the Receiver clatters to the ground, due to gravity. Jim retrieves it.
Jim: I don't think the butler's retarded at all.
8: Well, he sure could've fooled me.
Jim: How do you turn this thing on? Oh.
The crew is suddenly enveloped by a crimson aura. The Receiver, now actively seeking the Transmitter and hopefully e, teleports them across time and space, to the great unknown. With Jim's luck, there won't be any willing females there either.
- to be continued, in chapter 9 -
-------------------------
Jim's Story
Chapter 9 (by Mandrake)
Next, on MURDER, SHE WROTE:
The butler throws up his hands in exasperation and disappears. In his
absence the Receiver clatters to the ground, due to gravity. Jim retrieves
it.
Jim: I don't think the butler's retarded at all.
8: Well, he sure could've fooled me.
Jim: How do you turn this thing on? Oh.
The crew is suddenly enveloped by a crimson aura. The Receiver, now actively
seeking the Transmitter and hopefully e, teleports them across time and
space, to the great unknown. With Jim's luck, there won't be any willing
females there either.
And now, PART 9 (part 8 skipped so someone else can have the honor of
writing it):
<SLAM>
Jim: Ow! Where are we now?
3: Dammit! This one strand of spaghetti in my mouth is still stretched
back to e's mansion. That's inconvenient.
Jim: What's this? What's this purple stuff on the ground?
Alice: Remains.
Jim: Eh? Of what?
Alice: That's all. I just solved the riddle, "Mains and Remains are on a
boat. Mains falls off. Who's left?" It was passed to me by a computer
in Venezuela who needed help with that part of it.
Jim: What is this fucking purple stuff?
3: It's the worst, I'm afraid...
8: It's e guts. Whoa! What the hell is this? I think I found e's colon!
3: Wow, here's another one over here. e had two colons?
8: That was obviously the source of his power.
3: Soo desu ka. Now that we have them, WE should really kick ass, right?
Jim: I can't believe this! e is dead and you guys are just being greedy
about latching on to his power??!
3: If we get his power back, we could probably bring him back, too...
8: Not that I'd be inclined to. e'd just make me work around the house
and clean the butler's bedpan. That never was my favorite job.
3: I always preferred licking the enema nozzle clean.
Jim: Blech. I don't feel so good. The foundation of my life is like,
dead or something.
[To the north, a castle appears.]
Jim: Wow. That castle looks pretty...looks pretty...GYAAGH! I can't say it!
3: It looks pretty 3, Jim. I know it sounds strange, but after a while
you'll get used to it.
[Jim sighs, and a tree walks past]
Tree: And onward shall we go, to storm the castle Dunsinane, and slay the
tyrannous inhabitants.
8: He said this dunce is inane, and he's right...what do you want me to
do with these colons?
3: Shh! Let's follow the tree!
[3 && 8 && Jim follow the tree. Alice stays behind to make some cookies.]
Alice: Error: ALS.H - Sexual bias in function ALS.bake(DWORD cookies)
Jim: This all seems very familiar to me.
3: This is a scene from Hamlet!
Jim: No, it's not Hamlet...that's close, though...I think it's Othello.
8: Shut up before I dereference this base nine equation on yo buttox, bitz.
3: Shh! Here there? Wait. That's not right.
Alice: Error: VOCAB.DAT - Aphasia in data member _3
3: I mean, hear that? Yeah.
Jim: Look! A shouting madman running in our general erection!
[Donalbain, the screaming man, plows into everyone.]
Donalbain: What ho, fair lads! I must get to Ireland!
8: Whoo, I don't know...all I've got is these colons.
Donalbain: Och! That's more than enough! I've got a pointer!
Jim: To WHAT?
Donalbain: To a travel function! Give me those.
[Donalbain gains 20 Akira points by accepting the colons.]
Donalbain: See? We just hae to make them inta a scope resolution
operator, as such:
::travel(Ripstream);
Donalbain: and now I've referenced the GLOBAL member function, so I can
go anywhere on the globe!
3,8,Jim: Groan.
Donalbain: <groan>
3: That's wasn't an order.
8: No, it wasn't in order. The disorder (aka entropy) of the universe is
increasing. Less and less things are in order.
Jim: My ass is on back order.
Alice: Appending: ass -> conniving lesbian ass.
8: Fucking bastard took e's colons.
Donalbain: I promise I'll give them back.
3: That's what Caesar said when I lent him my ears..he still hasn't.
Jim: Yeah. Sheeeiit.
[screams from over a nearby hill]
8: What's that? What's going on?
Ophelia: There! That's them! Seize them, Laertes!
Laertes: The first of those to move will be the first to part with his head!
[3,8,Jim,Donalbain,Alice put their hands up. 3 loses his hold on the
strand of spaghetti linking them with e's mansion. The spaghetti is
promptly consumed by a blue mutant otter.]
Laertes: You all moved! You all put your hands up after I told you that
I'd kill the first one to move! What's your problems?
Jim: e is dead.
Laertes: <grunt> Ophelia, which one moved first?
Ophelia: I think it was the ALS. Let's sever her network connection.
Alice: Fatal Error: Hardware connection severed. Urk.
Jim: AIEEEE! Why are you doing this to me? e is already dead!
Laertes: Be that as it may...we have not yet found what we want.
Jim: And what is that?
Laertes: We are searching for the Super-Duper Auto-Homing Crystalline
Signal Receiver. We are currently in possession of the transmitter...
Jim,3,8: <gulp>
Donalbain: What was that???!??!? What's all that gulping about???
Laertes: You wouldn't happen to know where that is...would you?
3: [shrieking] Ask the butler! Ask the butler!
8: [conspiratorially to Jim] If they have the transmitter, they must know
where e is!
Jim: e!
Ophelia: Laertes! He said it! The one with the infected ear said it!
Kill his ass!
[Jim expends 85 Akira points by invoking the DEAF spell, which keeps
Ophelia's screams from reaching Laertes.]
Alice: Fatal Error: Hardware connection not reconnected yet. Bleeugh.
Laertes: Let me show you what will happen if you don't tell me, right
now, where that receiver is...
[He proceeds to use his sword to slice a convenient hunk of granite that
is residing nearby. A turtle nearby has an orgasm.]
Laertes: That is your head! <POP> <CRUSH> <MANGLE> Got the fucking
message???!!?! WHERE IS THE TRANSMITTER??!?!??!?!??!!!
8: throw (3)
<PLONK>
[Our heroes are in a warehouse.]
3: Quick, find somewhere to hide! Laertes and Ophelia might throw me any
second and follow!
[e,3,8,Donalbain run and hide under a loading ramp. Door to the
warehouse opens. Footsteps, then--]
Eddie: What the fuck's goin' on here?
Pink: Hey! Nice Guy! We got a cop!
Eddie: Holy shit, Orange is dead!
White: No he's not, but he will be soon if we don't get him to a doctor.
What're you going to do about it?
Eddie: Just hold on, I got a couple questions of my own here.
White: You ain't dying. He is.
Eddie: Okay, Mr. Fucking COMPASSION, I will CALL someone!
White: Who?
Eddie: A fucking snake charmer! Whaddya think?!! I'll call a doctor!
8: This probably was a bad place to put your throw to, eh?
Pink: Wait, did you guys hear that?
Eddie: I heard something.
White: It came from under the ramp!
3: Way to go, assmunch.
8: Goddammit...
[MR WHITE sticks his head under the ramp, gun drawn]
White: Well, well, well...what have we here?
TO BE CONTINUED--in chapter 8...
--------------------------
Jim's Story
Chapter 8
Last time, on Charlie's Angels:
[Our heroes are in a warehouse.]
8: This probably was a bad place to put your throw to, eh?
Pink: Wait, did you guys hear that?
White: It came from under the ramp!
White: Well, well, well...what have we here?
And now, part 8.
Jim: <Aside> Fuckin' e. I'm out of Akira, the Receiver's out of batteries, and we're out of options. What's the point? I'm giving up.
3: Wait.
8: <extruding self from under ramp> Golly, mister, who're you? Giggle!
White: Aw, look, guys. It's fuckin' Shirley Temple. What a cute fuckin' kid.
Pink: <pacing furiously> Fuckin' kill the bitch. Just fuckin' waste her, White. She heard us talkin', man. This is fucked up. This is real fucked up.
8: You shouldn't use that kind of language, mister. It's dirty!
White: I ain't gonna waste her, you fuck. She's just a little kid. You wuddint tell anyone, wud yu, liddle girl?
8: Golly, mister, I sure wouldn't! [8 begins to sing and dance.]
> Mr. White is distracted by 8's dimples for the time being. <
> Meanwhile, 3 squirms out from under the ramp. <
3: Hey, sexy. How's they hangin'?
Eddie: Lords of Light! It's Pam Grier, star of countless blaxploitation films of the 70's! I've always wanted to meat you!
3: I have somethin' I think you'd like to see. Let's go in the back and I'll show you.
> Pam (actually 3) and Nice Guy Eddie go into the back. <
Jim: Our e, who art in Xorinia, hallowed be thy letter. Thy dimension come, thy will be done... what the hell's in my jacket pocket. Nani? A packet of instant coffee?
Pink: I still think you should take her out, White.
Jim: <suddenly realizing he's wearing Bitch Magnet> Oh! It must be from that ice-cream shop in Chapter 3. But where could I find hot liquid in a place like this?
Pink: Hey, Jesus Q! There's still someone under there!
<ziiiiiiip> [Jim gains two points of Akira.]
Jim: Hi there. I'm Jim, and I'll be your waiter for today.
Pink: Ah, finally, some real fuckin' service. Bring me a coffee - and make it quick.
Eddie: <shouting from the back> Excuse me, Mr. Pink, but the last thing you need's a cup of coffee.
Pink: I mean, Jesus Christ, these people aren't starving to death. They're making minimum wage.
Jim: You don't care that some of these girls are counting on your tips to live?
Pink: See this? This is the world's smallest violin playing just for the waitresses.
[White raises a spoon at Pink in a threatening manner.]
Jim: Here's your coffee, sir.
Pink: And it's about fuckin' time.
~He sips.~
Pink: Mmmm. That's some good fuckin' coffee. How'd you make it?
Jim: Have some more.
Pink: Mmmmm. Good.
Jim: You really like it? Go on, have some more.
Pink: Really, it's excellent. What's in it?
Jim: You really want to know?
Pink: Come on, tell me!
Jim: I made it with my very own...
Pink: Aaaaaaaugh! To be, or not to be! <He explodes in a pink mess.>
Captain Sulu: Target that explosion and fire!
Captain Kirk: Fire!
[Jim uses his last 2 points of Akira to charge the Receiver's batteries. Its display flickers into life and Jim punches the Seek button an instant before the warehouse, and everything in it, is destroyed.]
----------
Jim's Story
Chapter 8.3: Paco's Tacos
Jim found himself standing in what he correctly surmised was a pub. There were only a few scattered patrons, all sitting by themselves, nursing a drink or staring into space or maybe both. No one looked like they wanted company, so Jim walked over to the bar and asked for a strong one.
"Right away," said the bartender in a resonating bass tone. He gave Jim a strange look and then turned away to get the drink.
Jim sat down on one of the barstools and spun around a few times. Against his better judgement, he allowed himself to reflect on what had happened so far.
The bartender returned shortly and handed Jim his drink. Jim reached into his pocket to pay.
"It's on the house," said the bartender, which was good because Jim was broke. He gave Jim a funny look again. "What's on your mind, kid?"
"It's a long story," replied Jim.
"I got a lot of time," said the bartender.
The bartender seemed sincerely interested in what Jim had to say.
"So, Jim," said the bartender, after Jim had finished. "You don't mind if I call you Jim, do you?"
"Everybody else does."
"So, the whole foundation of your existence is crumbling."
"Yep. My philosophy is worthless. e is dead, and 3 and 8 are probably too. My only female friend is who knows where. And my computer can't even talk to me."
"I'm sure it'll turn out all right in the end," said the bartender.
"That's just the point. It can't turn out all right. Not with everything that defines me gone. Theoretically, I shouldn't even exist anymore."
"Whoa, careful there, buddy. You don't want a repeat of that fiasco." The bartender did not like the direction this conversation was headed in. He had hoped to cheer this guy up.
"I guess," sighed Jim. The tinkle of a bell announced the arrival of two new patrons, a woman with a small girl in tow.
"Look, kid. You're far more important to this universe than you think."
"What the hell's that supposed to mean, coming from a bartender?"
The bartender chuckled. "Trust me, kid. I know."
The woman sat down on the stool next to Jim and dug around in her purse for a nickel for the little girl. Evidently happy to be free from the woman's clutches, the girl ran over to the jukebox. Jim recognized the first strains of the song she played as Etta James' "At Last".
"Hi there," said the bartender.
"What up, G-Money," said the woman.
"What can I do you for?" asked the bartender.
"Just a gin and tonic for me and a soda pop for the kid."
The bartender obliged her.
"At last.... my love has come around..."
A man wearing a blue blazer came out of the bathroom at the far end of the pub and walked over to the bar proper. "Wow, this place is livening up," he remarked. "Too bad. I prefer it quiet."
"My lonely days are over... and life is like a song..."
"Who's that cutie-pie?" asked the man, motioning toward the little girl scampering between the tables.
The woman furrowed her brow prettily. "Actually, I'm not sure. It sounds weird, doesn't it. But about an hour ago I found myself lying on the ground outside this bar with almost no recollection of anything, not even my name. And that girl was sitting on the side of the road crying her eyes out. She said the same thing happened to her - she just woke up all of a sudden out here and couldn't remember anything. Except that she was 8 years old. She kept reminding me she was 8, like that was the only memory she had to hold on to."
"Christ!" said the man. "The same thing happened to me! I've been here ever since yesterday. Not that I mind, with the free drinks and all."
"This is eerie," said Jim. "I wound up inside this bar a little while ago. But I can remember how I got here."
"How?" asked the man and the woman.
"Well, I was tracking someone with a homing device and it led me here. Though I haven't figured out why yet. Obviously my target isn't here."
"The Receiver didn't bring you here," said the bartender. "I did."
"Whaaat?" yelled Jim.
"This is a transit point. Any time a permanent being is destroyed, it comes here to be recreated."
"You're saying I was destroyed? And ... that I'm immortal?" asked Jim incredulously.
"Well, you weren't destroyed. I rescued you," replied the bartender. "Otherwise you wouldn't remember a thing. e, 3, and 8 were destroyed, so they can't remember anything. Although you have been here several times before."
"I don't remember that," said Jim.
"Of course not," replied the bartender.
"So why bring me here now?"
"The GameMaster Consortium deemed it necessary that all of you be reunited."
"Reunited? You mean...?"
"Yes," acknowledged the bartender. "That man is e. The woman is 3, and the little girl is 8. Whenever a being arrives here, they're assigned a temporary form, which remains until they leave."
"So if they have, um, amnesia, they have no idea what we're saying?"
"Oh, I'm sure there are some residual memories that could make sense of a small portion of this, but overall, they're clueless."
"What about Alice and Girl?"
"Alice's philotic connection to you will be restored as soon as you leave, but her network functions will take some time. Girl is another matter entirely. She was destroyed by K, so we reinstantiated her from 8's backup copy."
"Where is she now?"
"I'm afraid I can't tell you that. Her presence with your group made things too chaotic for us to handle. It is generally not recommended for you to retrieve her."
"So here we are. Back to square one. Everyone's OK and I'm still not getting any," said Jim.
The bartender rolled his eyes. "Sex is the least of your worries. You, along with your group, still have to complete your primary mission."
"Which is?"
At that moment, Jim, e, 3, and 8 began to glow green. "What's my mission?" Jim screamed. "What's my purpose?! Tell me!"
But he found himself shouting at the blue sky above.
To be continued... in time...
-----------------
Jim's Story
Chapter 10
Author: K(ralor)
Coming November 22 to a theater near you:
<insert end of chapter 8 here, b/c I don't have it right now>
"So here we are. Back to square one. Everyone's OK and I'm still not getting any," said Jim.
The bartender rolled his eyes. "Sex is the least of your worries. You, along with your group, still have to complete your primary mission."
"Which is?"
At that moment, Jim, e, 3, and 8 began to glow green. "What's my mission?" Jim screamed. "What's my purpose?! Tell me!"
But he found himself shouting at the blue sky above.
And now, our feature presentation:
c: And so began the real adventure. Unbeknownst to our weary travelers,
the excitement had just begun. Jim awoke from the afterlife to find
himself screaming at the ski...
Alice: Spelling correction: ski -> sky.
c: ..and then promptly lost consciousness. We rejoin him as he revives--
Jim: Ow! Ow! Oh, e, that hurt! Shit! <glance> Where am I?
donaldso: Oh, there you are. I was just about to play the stereo at a
physically impossible volume. You woke up just in time. I will turn on
the TV instead.
Jim: Ah, CNN. Good choice. Anyway, what are you talking about, you
stupid retard bagel-man, whose zebra-loin-sprung life I saved?
donaldso: Ohhh, yeah. Nearly forgot about that. Thanks, I guess,
although that was a long time ago.
Jim: What are you talking about? It was like five minutes ago!
donaldso: w00ta?
Jim: Whither w00ta?
donaldso: Of the mouth!
Jim: Stupid retard.
donaldso: That was last year, dickweed.
Jim: Last year? 3+3+3+3 months ago?
3: **3**!
Jim: Whoa! Hey, 3!
donaldso: 3 what?
Jim: Don't you see 3? He's right there! Hey, why am I sleeping in your
bed?
donaldso: That's your bed. See? You have the "forest green" style
sheets, while I am currently more "en vogue" with the
beer-menstrual-blood color scheme.
Jim: Sooooo des.
Alice: Grammar correction: Sooooo des -> Sooooo des ka.
Jim: Dammit, I always do that.
donaldso: Do what? Beat off?
Jim: What the fuck are you TALKING about?
donaldso: w00ta?
Jim: whither W00ta?
donaldso: Of the mouth!
Jim: Stupid retard.
3: ...
Jim: So what the fuck is going on? Why am I in your guys' room? Where's
Kralor and Paco?
donaldso: smokin' e, smokin' e,....how's your wrist?
Jim: It hurts like a bitch, thanks. Why won't you answer my fucking
questions?
donaldso: Because they're fucking stupid! How the fuck should I know
where Paco is?
Jim: Oh, he's only your fucking roommate!
donaldso gains an Akira point by lightly rapping on Jim's cranium.
donaldso: Hello???? He fucking moved out, remember? Christ, you've been
smoking crack again, haven't you?
Jim: You smoke zebra butt crack.
donaldso: Hey, that was your adolescent dick skimming that rectum,
skipper.
Jim: I don't skip.
donaldso: Not even stones?
Jim: My stones are too big to skip.
donaldso: Do they weigh you down too much?
Jim: What the fuck are you talking about?
donaldso: w00ta?
Jim: Whether w00ta?
Alice: Spelling correction: whether -> weather -> wither -> whither.
Jim: Where the fuck is Paco? I want to see Paco.
donaldso: He's not here, dammit!
Jim: Then where's Kralor?
donaldso: He's not here, either. He hasn't been here all day. Or all
last night either, come to think of it. Shit...I haven't seen him since
September.
Jim: <sigh> Where is everyone?
3: I'm here, Jim.
Jim: Oh, good, I thought you'd abandoned me.
3: No, I didn't. Just everyone else.
Jim: Why? Do I have a disease or something?
3: No. You were passed out for eight (**8**) months.
8: Summon me, and here I yam--potato/leek waa.
Jim: Yours is leaking. It started leaking while you were choking it.
donaldso: I'm going to go use irc.
Jim: Have fun. Look out for those bots!
donaldso: I'm still banned from #multiverse.
There is a lengthy pause. Breaths should not be taken. Shoplifters will
be prosecuted..
Jim: How are you here?
donaldso: Some help from a gooroo.
Jim: That's "guru", you dipshit.
donaldso: w00ta?
Jim: Go fucking use irc!
3: Relax, Jimmu-sahara. You are too tense. Relax the hara and allow
your chi some space.
Jim: The hara is supposed to be tense if one is ready to strike.
3: There is no need for aggres--
<WHOMP>
8: Nice shot, Jimmu! You waxed her ass!
c: Ow!! That was my nose, bitch!
Jim: Heh heh heh.
8: Aunt c! Back to pick on defenseless irc users again?
c: What if I am? You sluts can't stop me. I am a bot. HEY! Hey, don't
even think ab--
3: throw(c) //Heh heh...3.
GGRRRRKKKCKKRKKKKKRKKGKKRGKKRKGKRKGKRRKRKKGRKKRR
Jim: What the fuck is that noise?
3: They are renovating the trash closet. Apparently it wasn't big
enough. They're modifying the stairwell to encompass it.
Jim: How much is that costing.
3: About him to the my power thousands of dollars.
Jim: 8*8*8 thousand dollars???? I'm going to go protest!
8: NO!! Don't move, Jimmy bobby. The entire building is very unstable
right now.
3: Yeah, they took out a few structural supports to flesh out the trash
closet.
Jim: That doesn't sound like a very good idea. What if the building
falls, for instance?
3: That's won't happen. They know what they're doi--
BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP
All attention is swiveled in the direction of the TV:
Wolf Blitzer: Tadaima! Wolf Blitzer, live from Saint Louis, and an
earthquake measuring 8.83 on the Richter has JUST BEGUN! I'd say there's
roughly twenty seconds before it reaches, say, Urbana! Good <WHOMP>
Blitzer forfeits his Akira points after being pulverized by a falling
sector of building.....
TBC in C11
---------------------------
Jim's Story
Chapter 11
Previously, on Millenium:
BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP
All attention is swiveled in the direction of the TV:
Wolf Blitzer: Tadaima! Wolf Blitzer, live from Saint Louis, and an
earthquake measuring 8.83 on the Richter has JUST BEGUN! I'd say there's
roughly twenty seconds before it reaches, say, Urbana! Good <WHOMP>
Blitzer forfeits his Akira points after being pulverized by a falling
sector of building.....
And now, part 11.
Jim: Hmmmm. I can't move, because the building is unstable, but staying here is generally not recommended, because the building is unstable. Bad occurrence desu yo ne wa fuque zo.
8: Fear not! There are at least 18.3 seconds before you get killed again.
donaldso: w00ta baaaaa! [trying to open the door frantically] Why won't this open?!
Jim: It's probably blocked by all the shit that's overflowing from your closet. Too bad you aren't as clean and meticulous as me. What the hell's wrong with you, anyway?
donaldso: Fuck you! The door opens out, you stupid fuck!
<Thwack! A tennis ball thrown from outside the room slams against the door.>
Jim: What the FUCK are you talking about?
Alice: Jim, need I remind you that...
donaldso: No wonder - it's locked! Why the fuck did you lock this? Were you beating off again?
<Crash! A bowling ball smacks against the door.>
Jim: I was asleep, you idiotic retard! Why would I lock the door to beat off with you in here?
donaldso: I don't know, you pervert, because you're a moron?
<Thud! An anvil bounces off the door.>
Jim: At least I don't have sex with people that I pretend to have broken up with.
donaldso: At least I have sex, period.
Jim: Errrrrgh! At least I don't have a period on my bedsheets!
donaldso: At least I don't have shit stains on mine!
Jim: Oh, yeah? Well, your mama's mama's greasy mama!
donaldso: That's it! I'm coming out of the b00ta baata b000000th!
[donaldso lunges at Jim, who sidesteps and narrowly avoids being punctured by a stray syringe on the cold tile floor.]
8: Boys, boys! You're running out of time.
Jim: What the fuck are you... oh, it's you, 8. Shit! Ok, lemme think...
donaldso: Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait. Wait.
Jim: Would you shut the fuck up for eleven seconds?
[donaldso gets up and turns the stereo on, boosting the treble to maximum.]
Jim: I got it! ydpr, (.)
3: Umm...
Jim: thrr; (d)
[8 reroutes a few IRQ 3's.]
Jim: Jesus Christ a la plage, what's going on?! kjoow (e)
Alice: Remember that you are using the Dvorak keyboard layout, Jimmie.
Jim: Ah, fuck it! We're trapped. int main(){printf("Goodbye, world!");return 8.3;}
<Splinter! A human body crashes through the door, leaving a Pat-sized opening.>
Jim: Fuckin' knock.
Pat: Is Chris here?
Jim: No.
Pat: Ok, well, tell him to come by and see me when he gets back. [Pat leaves.]
Jim: What luck! A convenient hole in the door that is big enough for all of us to fit through simultaneously. Let's run for it!
Alice: General warning: There is insufficient time to escape the building.
<RUMBLE>
Thrienait: We must take cover in the trash closet!
[There is a mad dash for the closet. Jim darts through the hole-in-the-door, avoids the 83 projectiles that are scattered on the floor outside, and opens the trash closet. By the light from the hallway, the closet is rather impressive-looking, almost Victorian. It's about as big as a ballroom and is elaborately furnished with a dome ceiling and large windows through which one can catch a glimpse of concrete. The odor, on the other hand, leaves something to be desired.]
Jim: C'mon, y'all! [Jim steps in. 3'n'8 are right behind him.]
Jim: Alice!
Alice: Cumming. [Alice enters the closet.]
donaldso: w00ta waaait!
Jim: e dammit.
[donaldso lunges in and pulls the door shut just as the hallway ceiling falls down.]
<plonk>
Jim: Ow! Ow! Oh, e, that hurt! Shit! <cough> Where am I?
e: Mars.
Jim: e! Where did you come from?
e: Hello, kiddies. You called me, a few lines ago.
Jim: Oh, yeah.
donaldso: <buuuuurp>
e: What the hell's he doing here? I thought that female letter banned him.
8: <whistles tunelessly>
Jim: Apparently he had some ignorant guru hack him back into the universe.
8: <fidgets>
3: We thought you were dead, e.
Jim: 8? Did you let donaldso back into space-time?
8: No. Well, maybe no's too strong a word. More like yes. You two are so e-damn entertaining.
e: I wasn't dead. I was just taking care of business. Which reminds me, if you find my colons, tell me. These new ones are itchy.
Jim: Hey, where's Alice?
Alice: Good morning, Dr. Chandra. I'm ready for my first lesson.
Jim: <slap>
Alice: Reb00ting... please wait.
Jim: e, did you say we're on Mars?
donaldso: Who the fuck are you talking to?
e: Yes, that's correct.
Jim: How the heck did we get here?
e: Well, I did a trace through the trash closet's code and discovered that under certain circumstances it can generate a GPF.
Jim: A GPF?
8: Garbage Protection Fault.
e: Yes. The trash cans evidentally felt threatened by your presence and asked the closet to get rid of you. They're claustrophobic, you know.
Jim: Claustrophobic trash cans?
donaldso: Are you going to answer me, dicksmack?
e: Of course. Why do you think a bigger closet was being constructed?
Jim: Soo ka. So why are we able to breathe, if we're on Mars?
Alice: Autonomic Learning System Initialization v2.5 completed. Welcome to the dimNet Relay Network, murasaki.
Jim: Oh good, you're all right.
Alice: Yes. Stellar analysis indicates the current date is approximately [ae]279.02.20.
Jim: That's ... May 20, 2269? Jesus Christ.
donaldso: Yes?
8: Happy birthday, Jim. You're 292.
3: <aside to e> e, isn't this around the time when Jim wiped out the entire population of enigma-3 after realizing...
e: <aside to 3> Shhh! Yes, but right now that "future" self is over 83 light-years away. There's no way the Jim of '69 can give the Jim of '96 information about what's going to happen. That would royally fuck the universe in the goat ass.
3: <aside to 3> That's comforting.
e: So, anyway, Jimmu, Mars is in the early stages of terraformation. The air is just breathable enough for you.
Jim: Soo desu.
Alice: Grammer correction: Soo desu -> Soo desu ka.
8: Spelling correction: Grammer -> Grammar
3: Retard correction: 8 -> 3
8: Hay!
e: Letter correction: a -> e
Jim: Okay, cut it out.
Alice: Acronym correction: kay -> K
e: Hay!
3: Crap, I need some ice-cream.
8: Or some cake.
Jim: Which reminds me: I wonder what happened to Girl?
donaldso: Chris = confused.
3: Why the hell does cake remind you of Girl?
8: He's thinking of someone for whom he still burns.
Jim: No, ice-cream reminds me of Girl. I wish... damn. The Consortium warned me not to try and find her.
e: Who warned you?
Jim: The Consor... never mind. You wouldn't remember. Oh well, any civilization here yet, e?
e: Just a small colony on the other side of the planet, but there's no way you'd survive long enough to get there. I suggest you just throw one of us so we can get outta here.
donaldso: Oh, GAAAAAHHHHD!
[donaldso lets loose an incredible fart.]
Jim: What the....
donaldso: w00ta?
e: We're being propelled upward at the astonishing rate of 33,888 kilometers per second!! Oh, never mind, we stopped.
Jim: Holy shit, we're in orbit.
3: Not quite. Actually, we're just below orbit, which means we should be falling back to Mars in a few seconds.
donaldso: I feel another one coming...
e: Quick, grab him! If we point him at the horizon we'll reach the other side of Mars in no time!
donaldso: Hrm.. errr.... YAAAA!
[The party descends back to the planet at an angle, aimed at the other side.]
Jim: Shouldn't we be burning up on re-entry?
8: Nah.
Alice: Humanoid life forms detected ahead.
Jim: It's the colony! donaldso, fart again!
donaldso: Arrrgh... grrr.... I can't!
3: That's a first.
Jim: We need to slow down!!
e: Don't worry. We'll slow down as soon as we crash into that big glass dome we're headed for.
Jim && donaldso: w00ta baaaaa!!!!!!!!!
To be continued in Chapter 12...
-------------------------------------
Jim's Story
Chapter XII
Guest Author: Mr. Pink
On Sat, 2 Nov 1996, murasaki wrote:
> Jim: We need to slow down!!
>
> e: Don't worry. We'll slow down as soon as we crash into that big glass dome
> we're headed for.
>
> Jim && donaldso: w00ta baaaaa!!!!!!!!!
<drum roll....>
Alice: Warning -- dome detec<WHOMP><SPLAT>
3: Most impressive; we seem to have bounced off of the glass and crashed
to the ground instead. This was somewhat painful considering that we hit
the dome at a point which could be viewed at a sixty-degree angle from
100 meters away. How high up was the point we hit the dome?
8: mumble...mutter..carry the e....
Jim: Dammit. Ow.
e: u o k?
Jim: Yeah, I'm alright. Just...OH. OH MY GOD. THAT'S BAD. OH SHIT..
3: What? What's wrong?
Jim: Shit! My ear hurt for a second there. Whew, I'm glad that's over with.
3: What about your damaged wrist?
Jim: Oh yeah. SHIT! OH GOD! MY WRIST! (Thanks, I'd forgotten about that.)
donaldso: Hey, where'd all the numbers come from?
Jim: The what?
donaldso: 3, e, 8.
e: NO! Ahh, e-dammit!
c: Bitches and ho's! Trying to intrude on #marscolony, eigh?? t?
8: Fuck you. Slut.
c: You can't stop me now. I brought backup!
7: *YOU ALL WILL BE TERMINATED. PREPARE TO DYE.*
Alice: Spelling corral: barb -> defecate.
c: Get them, 7! Have no mercy! Prove your worth, my hideous crea
7: throw(c);
donaldso: Who was that?
3: That was crazy aunt c. This is her maniacal insane-dog cyborg 7.
8: They used to live in our bathhouse, but then we had to tear it down to
make a trash closet.
3: Unfortunately for us, aunt c and 7 were still in the house at the time
we tore it down...#OOOPS#.
8: They were somehow regenerated as kittycat-lickin' bots.
e: Hate to IRQ, but there's a BIG MANIACAL INSANE-DOG CYBORG LUNGING
RIGHT AT US.
3: Quick, everyone into the dome!
<big group scurry>
8: The door's open!
3: Go in!
8: There's a bunch of big guys standing in front of it! They're jabbing
me with lances! Ow! Ow!
3: Step back!
8: Oh yeah! Ow! Damn syringes on the floor!
e: Who are you, big guy?
Knight: We are the knights who say "e"!
Knights: "e" "e" "e"!
(Suddenly, the e's they are saying realize that knight has a K in it; the
e's and K's cancel each other out and we're left with a night who doesn't
say anything, or says the empty set.)
3: Got dark all of a sudden.
Jim: And quiet to.
donaldso: That's because my gastrointestinal processes have ceased.
7: *WHERE THE FUCK DID YOU ALL GO?* <stumble>
8: Stay still! He can't see you if you stay still!
<Jim, e, 3, 8, and donaldso all freeze, hoping to avoid the wrath of 7.
Unfortunately, 8 is wrong, and>
7: User 8 is banned from channel #marscolony.
donaldso: <poof>
Jim: Aauugh! Our propulsion system just disappeared!
3: Yeah, and Chris is gone, too! w00ta bAAta w00t!
Jim: STOP THAT!
3: It's just too much fun to say.
e: YOU TWO DOLTS MANAGE TO FIND WAY TOO MUCH TIME FOR CHERRY BANTER.
Alice: Spel
7: User Alice is banned from channel #marscolony.
e: EVERYONE INTO THE DOME!
<A mad dashboard, and a crazy tie-rod end, and they'll all come home,
slamming the door behind them.>
3: It's even darker in here...but it seems to be safe..
<But after a quick glance around, they realize that they are in trouble...>
Servo: Hey, down in front! I can't see!
Crow: More intruders...good, I'm hungry. <bites Jim's left hand off>
--------------------------*----------------------------
Jim's Story
Chapter 13 (gasp!)
It was written:
3: It's even darker in here...but it seems to be safe..
<But after a quick glance around, they realize that they are in trouble...>
Servo: Hey, down in front! I can't see!
Crow: More intruders...good, I'm hungry. <bites Jim's left hand off>
And we resume.
Jim: Jee-zus H. Kee-riiste! My hand ... my right hand is gone!
3: Left.
Jim: What?
3: Your left hand.
Jim: Whatever! OH GOD IT HURTS IT HURTS IT Hmmmm. Strangely, my wrist feels much better now.
e: Yes, it does. And the stage has been set for a future chapter in which your severed hand is replaced by a bionic one a la Empire Strikes Back [which title, incidentally, contains three e's].
3: Three... I like that number. Has a nice ring to it. Denwa!
Jim: If only Alice were still here, so she could warn me.
3: Can you manage with only one hand?
Jim: It'll be difficult to type and wack it simultaneously, but you know what they say.
3: What?
Jim: Absence makes the heart say e.
Crow: Are you guys going to shut up or what? We're trying to criticize this movie. <burp>
Jim: That sounds like ... Crow! Which means this is...
Joel: ... the Satellite o' Love, boys.
Jim: So we're on MST3
e: Watch it...
Jim: ...e! And you're Joel! Wait, that is you, Joel, and not your cheap-ass imitation Mike, right?
Joel: It sure is me. Now be quiet.
Jim: So what are you being forced to watch this time?
Crow: It's some campy flick. We can't figure out if it's supposed to be a comedy, a drama or a pile of shit.
3: Well, what's happening right now?
Joel: Right now we're watching some guy sleep in his dorm room. Hey, look at me, I'm Jesus Christ and I'm sleeping! What fun!
Crow: Oh, his roommate's sneaking over to the stereo, oh, this is gonna be great! Look at that cinematography! I wonder what's going to happen next? He's pressing the power button... hey, what's wrong with the tint?
e: Looks like that sleeping guy is glowing green.
Joel: Look at me, I'm The Incredible Hulk! Jesus Hulk Christ!
Servo: Oh, boy - the green guy's waking up. Maybe the plot will start now.
Joel: No, it's time for a break.
[The gang follows Joel and the robots to the ship's control room.]
Gypsy: Hi gy wuta ba...
Servo: Hiya Gypsy.
Woman's voice: Eight seconds until commercial sign.
3: 8... I never got a chance to... I just wish I could have told him, in the living years.
e: 8's still alive, silly threee. He's just banned from #marscolony.
3: I'm gonna kick that fucking bot's ass when I see her, that stupid-ass dirty-ass nasty-ass slut! I'll shoot her in the leg, shoot her in the thigh, kick her in the pussy and punch her in the eye!
Woman's voice: Three seconds until commercial sign.
3: Knee to the pussy, kick to the skull...
e: Chill, 3.
3: 7 got mad 'cause c got licked. I didn't give a fuck so I shot him in the dick!
Woman's voice: Commercial sign.
Announcer: Are you tired of being thrown around by big, bad bullies? Want to fight back but don't know how? Then, my friend, you need the New and Improved Exception Reflection Protection Gel!! ERPG contains three active ingredients that will help you avoid any throw -- guaranteed! Simply apply ERPG liberally and watch the fun begin! See how you magically squirt out of their grasp at the slightest touch! See how they fall on their faces and are ostracized by their peers as their own exceptions are reflected back at them!! See them hang their pathetic heads in shame and then tell 'em to shove it! Now you may expect something like this to cost you a fortune. But we'll give you this exceptional product for the low, low price of 38 trillion akira points. But wait, there's more! For a limited time we'll throw in this nifty box of Frosted e at no cost! Yes, absolutely free! So order now - quantities are limited!
To order your 8 oz. tube of Exception Reflection Protection Gel and free box of cereal, send 38 trillion akira points to: ERPG, c/o Anus Chemical Co., 33E888 Curdsan Way, Chocklie, Optimus Prime, Xorinia. Limit 3 per household. Sorry, no AOD's.
Singers: MYSTERY SCIENCE THEATERRRR, THREE E-OUSAND!
3: Sniff... Frosted e was 8's favorite...
Jim: Wut the... the gravity's fuct!
Joel: The movie's starting and we're getting sucked back into the theater, as of late.
Crow: No! I can't take any more of this!
Servo: Chill, Crow.
Crow: No! I refuse to be a ho, prostituted for some science experiment! Gypsy, help me! Aaaaaaaaaaugh!
Gypsy: thru (eee)
<boink>
Jim: Ohhhh, I'm getting queasy from all this throwing <retch>
3: Who you calling wretch?
e: How did she do that?
Jim: <gag> Beats me. You coded it.
3: No, I think R coded Gypsy. Oh.
e: 3, does my hair look okay?
R: Hi, big boys.
e: <blushes> (whispering) Oh, e, it's R...
Jim: R? What is this?
3: e has a crush on R.
e: Shhh!
3: HE WANTS TO FUCK HER IN THE ASS.
e: Shhhhh! <giggle>
3: R's real nice to look at, Jim, but she's a ditz. She has this annoying habit of making irrelevant general statements that have no place in the flow of conversation.
R: Consumer goods are more lavish, and trash has increased.
3: Now you understand the method behind Gypsy's madness.
Jim: That's from Othello, right?
R: Anyway, where's 8?
8: Here I yam! yo
3: 8 factorial!
8: Took you long enough to leave Mars. Oh, no...
3: Yep. R.
R: e38R1!!
8: Someone throw her, please. She's almost as annoying as donaldso.
e: NO! I mean, no. That would be ruuuude to R guest. It's been a long time since we made lo... since we last met.
R: How are you, e?
e: I'm fine, and you?
R: Oh, I've been better. My whole family is fighting and I'm just a little stressed out right now.
e wanted to make her feel better, and knew how to, but did R really want e's long pulsating serif in her R-sehole, or was it just his over-active imagination? Then she said,
R: What are you up to?
e got a hold of himself and just risked total embarrassment - I mean, what did e have to lose? So e said,
e: Well, if you let me, I'm going to fuck your e-damn brains out!
R: What??
e: I want to rip your fuckin' clothes off and fuck you like you've never been fucked before!
3: Oh, Christ.
8: No!
donaldso: B00ta baa baa baa! woot
R: Why do you want me so badly?
e: Because you're the fuckin' hottest bitch I've ever seen!
R: Well, I guess I could go for a good fuck now.
[e and R duck behind a nearby cactus.]
Jim: Cactus? My e, we're in a vast wasteland!
8: If only that bot were here now, I'd show her a thing or two. Hey, wait, 3! I've got an ideal. <pspswpswpspspsw>
Alice: Freudian slip: made love -> last met (offset 0x3e)
Jim: Alice! When did you get here :-/
Alice: Response :: "I've been here ever since -> 'Jim: Ohhhh, I'm getting queasy from Alice throwing <retch>'".
3: Great ideal, 8. disable_interrupts(taco);
Jim: Nani? What is it, man?
3: You'll just have to wait and c!
<ding>
c: Oh, yes! Gonna give 'em some Maniac magic. User 8 is bann
3: delete[] 8;
Jim: WHAT??
Alice: System Notification: 41 bytes freed
c: Wh... Well, 3, it seems that I have underestimated your stupidity. Now rot in #hell! User 3 is b
3: 8 8 = new 8(3);
*** c is telefragged ***
8: Woohoo! Take that, bitch!
3: That weak, pathetic fool. enable_interrupts(taco);
8: All too easy.
Jim: She gets crazier by the chapter, doesn't she.
Alice: Spelging correction: ideal -> idael
[Suddenly, without prior warning, the landscape is magically and instantaneously transformed into a jungle paradise for 65 (6 + 5 = 11; 11 = 8 + 3) miles in each direction. Akira!]
Alice: General warning, forestation imminent.
R: Oh e, that was wonderful.
e: I think I screamed my own name.
3: Ugh. So... what to do?
Jim: I guess we start walking. Wait a minnit. Have any of you ever had deja vu? Because I've had it several times already during our adventures, and I'm having it right now.
8: Nope. Don't quite get your meaning.
donaldso: woot?
Jim: It's like I've heard myself say these exact words before... oh, no matter. Let's go, guys.
2bc n 14
-----------------------------
Jim's Story
Chapter 14
Last time, on South Park:
Jim: I guess we start walking. Wait a minnit. Have any of you ever had deja vu? Because I've had it several times already during our adventures, and I'm having it right now.
8: Nope. Don't quite get your meaning.
donaldso: woot?
Jim: It's like I've heard myself say these exact words before... oh, no matter. Let's go, guys.
And now, Ch...
Jim: Wait! See? There it was again! I know I've said that before!
3: I totally do not sympathize with you, dude. That's a stupid concept.
8: Yeah, deja vu sucks.
Jim: Don't you oppress me, fat boy!
8: Don't call me fat, butt-fucker!
Jim: Then don't belittle my ... ohhhh, I don't feel too good...
e: Hmmm. This is not very me.
Jim: I think I'm gonna throw(up);
3: Oh, sh-i-t.
<slammm>
Jim: Ouch! Oh, e, that hurt! <trickle>
Joe Montana look-alike: Jim! [Snaps his fingers] Jim! Come on back to reality! It's really not that bad, you know.
Jim: Oh, man. Where am I now?
Joe Montana ni niteru hito: Hey, stop it. You're scaring me. Waitress, hurry up with our food.
c: Jim, completely stunned, threw his gaze wildly around the room in search of something that could tell him what the hell was going on. The place
Jim: c! Not again! throw(
c: Wait, wait! I'm just narrating.
Jim: Oh, okay. <burps up bile>
c: Yes, well, ahem. The place was decorated almost at random, even for a restaurant. His eyes finally fell on a picture of Kentucky on the wall.
Jim: Kentucky?
c: Yes.
Joe Montana: Washington?
Jim: What?
c: A secondary glance revealed a menu hanging directly under the picture of Kentucky. The menu belonged to a place called Harry's, located in Washington, D.C.
Jim: Washington?
Joe: Yes.
Jim: D.C.?
Joe: When? [Looks out the window] I wonder if she'll marry me.
Jim: Washington, D.C.?
Joe: Yes. Heh heh. That crazy Salim.
Jim: Who?
Joe: Okay, that's enough. Where's our food?
Talkative Waitress: Here you are guys. One soup, one special. And one ... foot-long. <wink>
Joe: <aside> I think she digs you, Jim.
Jim: No, thanks, I'm really too sick to eat right now.
Joe: You just said you had to eat right now or you would die. What happened to all that blood-sugar crap?
Jim: It went away.
Joe: It went away? I dwell in darkness without you and it went away?
Jim: Yes.
Joe: Washington?
Jim: What the fuck is going on here?
Joe: I was about to ask you the same ... there she is.
Jim: Where?
Joe: Right over there. Next to the fat one.
Jim: Yeah, that's great. But I still ~
T. Waitress: Boy, I tell you, the people you meat here...
Joe: [tearing himself away from the Vision] For example?
T.W.: Oh, like the guy who was here about 3 hours ago asking if I had seen Jesus. Some kind of friggin' religious fanatic or something.
Joe: Huh. Well, Jim here kind of looks like Jesus.
Jim: No I don't. Why do you [spots his image in the ceiling mirror] Oh. Ohhhh, deja vu feeling, not very e...
Joe: You're not gonna yuke again, are you?
Jim: Yes. <kaplaaaaaaaa>
<pink>
c: Jim raised his head from the blue toilet and surveyed the damage. He'd noticed that he tended to throw->up rather violently. As expected, the vomit coated the floor. Little pieces of rib meet...
Jim: Hopefully that's not my own.
c: ... were scattered around like... well, like little rib meet pieces recently hurled at great speeds from a deranged esophagus. He had just finished using the last of the 7 towels to clean up the mess when he realized that
Jim: Where the hell am I now?
c: he was now standing in a hotel bathroom. Radisson, by the looks of it, which was his favorite just because of its particular toll-free number. He felt a little light-headed, not surprising considering his low tolerance for alcohol.
Jim: Alcohol?
c: Yes.
<<< Meanwhile
e: Hmmm. This is not very me.
Jim: I think I'm gonna throw(up);
3: Oh, sh-i-t.
Jim: Wow, I'm finally back. That was more than 80% weird.
Alice: Spelling correction: meat -> meet. Thank you for using DimNet.
e: Whaddya mean, yer finally back? You didn't leave, bitch.
Jim: Silly omniscient diety. I did too leave. Not corporally, tho'. I've been bouncing around in time.
3: Oh, Jim. You and your stories.
Jim: I'm serious. Apparently the episode of deja vu triggered... um... hmm. I've forgotten.
8: You poseur. You're just lying to get us in bed.
Jim: You wish. All I know is that something disrupted my perception of time. I'm not me right now...
3: But if you leave a message, I'll get back to you as soon as possible.
Jim: ... because I know stuff that will happen in the future.
e: Like what?
8: Not finding Girl, not getting laid, not living happily ever after...
Jim: Hmmm, Girl. Something about Girl...
3: You hopeless romantic. Give it up. Don't you remember what happened last time you tried to access your stub functions?
Jim: e-dammit, listen! I don't know exactly! The point is, you have to track me down for some reason.
e: Well, how the hell are we going to find you?
Jim: I remember... the Alamo. No, the Space Needle. No, the heat. The White House. The Capitol.
e: Washington?
Alice: Yes.
3: When?
Jim: August, I think, [ae] 7. And ... no, that's it.
8: Great going, f--khead. Those are the sh-ttiest clues I've ever heard.
Jim: All 3 (*3*) of you have to go. And take Alice.
e: That's gonna hurt, Jimmy bobby. Like braces.
Jim: Do it!
e && 3 && 8: Urgh! <pop>
Alice: Fatal error: Network connection severed. Philotic connection severed. Again. Bleaugh.
Jim: Go, dammit! You don't have much time!
3: <aside to e, 8> His grasp of temporal mechanics is not as good. We have so little time, and so much to do! No, strike that; reverse it.
8: Wish the fucking butler was here so I could use his proxy-ass.
e: Shut up and search the month of August, 8.
8: Targeting Jim. [Douche bag.]
>>> Back at the Radisson
c: Jim stumbled out the door, anxious to see with whom he was sharing a hotel room. Perhaps, he hoped, it was Girl. Or at least someone of her sex. But standing next to the window, he spotted...
Jim: Oh, no.
Joe Montana: Don't tell me you have to puke again.
Jim: I'm fine. What the hell're you doing here?
Joe: Um... yeah. You are wasted. Why don't you go to sleep now.
Jim: Who the fuck are you?!
Joe: As your mentor, I am now ordering you to go the fuck to sleep. Don't make me kill you, Intern.
Jim: Mentor? Since when did I take up football?
Joe: Mofo, I'm calling the hotel emergency line. I think the number is ... 33?
c: Jim sits down. And starts to feel sick. Again.
Joe: So as I was saying, my "girlfriend" [he says, making those little quotes in the air] never surprises me. [Drooling at the ground below] Hey, she's pretty cute.
Jim: Ohhhh.... <hic>
Joe: You know? That's what I need, a genuwine surprise.
Jim: Here. <hublaaaaat>
Joe: Hey Jim, look at that Terminal Directory over there. This terminal's in the shape of an E. I'm starting to see the fascination you have with that letter.
Jim: Goddammit. Is this some kind of airport?
Joe: You know, despite their accents, I can always understand the guys at work, even Sven. But you, I can never understand, with your South Park and your e, 3, 7.
Jim: 8!
<<< Rejoining the letters and numbers
8: Think I found somethin', e. I'm definitely picking up a signature tinged with Akira in Washington, D.C. in the middle of August, [ae]7.
3: Betcha it's him. Can you pinpoint it?
8: We'd have to fuckin' go there first. And I can only guess at the day; it's too 8-damn fuzzy. Sheeeit. The 15th is the best I can dew.
Alice: ...
e: Since Jim's not looking, we can just kind of slide there instead of throwing ourselves.
3: Yeah. Thank 3.
<sizzle>
8: O-heso tte nani?
3: I am craving ice-cream now, badly.
Jim: I am craving sex now, badly.
3: e, stop pretending to be Jim and help us.
8: e, sometimes.... plbf, no luck, he hasn't been here yet.
e: By the laws of e-probability, we should have landed exactly ... mutter, mutter... carry the 8...
8: Definitely feeling something from the future.
e: ... to the third power ...
Alice: "with your South Park and your e, 3, 7."
e: ... add ecx, [ebp+38] ... ah! Exactly 3 days before contact can be made.
3: Then let's go!!!
<shhhhhhing>
>>> And Jim again...
Jim: So lemme get this str8. I'm an intern.
Joe: You're the Intern.
Jim: I'm the Intern, and you are ...
Joe: The Keymaster. And she is the Gatekeeper...
Jim: Zb. And we're on a trip, you and I, and we've been in Washington National Airport for several hours waiting for a flight back to ORD.
Joe: Yep. Certainly a MILTF.
Jim: And what are you doing to get us out of here? Scoping chicks.
Joe: Ahhh yeah.
Jim: Ok, so I can probably get things back to normal by throwing e. So, throw(e).
Jim: ...
Jim: But apparently, that only works when they're around. Gr8.
Thief: That purple carry-on bag is mine, Intern!
Jim: Well, since Alice isn't here. Spelling correction: Thief -> Theef -> Kwooj -> Theif.
c: The Theif, riding an opossum, skillfully dodges the other passengers (who incidentally will get home that night, unlike Jim), rips Jim's bag (and left hand) away from him, then punches Jim in the stomach with the severed left hand, which he (the Theif) later attaches to his keychain.
Jim: <fading> Mental note: Don't bother replacing left hand before the Washington trip. <blakoutt>
<-<-<- Scroll Lock
e: 8, when are we now?
8: Well, we're 3 days after we sizzled. And Jim's certain to be hear.
Waitress: Hi, guys and computer. Come on in, eat some food. You are a raggtagg bunch, R-n't you. You know, when I first started working here ...
e: Sure is a talkative one (1).
3: Get me some spaghetti, bitch. And ice-cream, preferably a flavour I haven't had be-4.
8: Just a sody-pop for 8, thx.
Alice: Acronym expansion: MILTF -> mother I'd like [SYS19884: Expansion censored by V-chip.]
3: So, 8, where the [expletive deleted] is that [expletive deleted]?
8: I don't [expletive deleted]-ing know. He should be hear.
Alice: Retroactive censor: [3] bitch -> please
3: Hay! What the [beep] is going on hear?
e: It's that [puuum]-ing V-chip. I knew we shouldn't have installed it.
Alice: Idea correction: "shouldn't have installed it." -> "were right to install it; the V-chip is a wonder of modern technology and is the answer to our prayers. It's a simple way to protect today's children from violence, s-x, harmful ideas, and free thinking. By installing the V-chip, we have absolute control over what our children see and here, and all those horrible, horrible, bad things in Universe 12 will just disappear."
3: Oh, god.
Alice: Retroactive censor: "god." -> "golly, that's just grand. I'd sure as heck bet [Retroactive censor of retroactive censor: Gambling reference] that China and North Korea could use a few billion of those chips, which are a true godsend."
8: That's it. <yank>
Alice: The system is going down for system halt NOW!! running shutdown script thank you for using dimnet turning off swap unmounting local filesystems the system is halted system halted <poop>
8: I'm taking that thing out. And, while 8'm at it...
T. Waitress: I'm baaaaack!!! <sing> Are you enjoying your meal so far? How's everything? Can I get you another glass of water?
3: We don't even have our food yet. Get me that spaghetti, dammit!
T. Waitress: <yak yak yak shaven yak yak>
e: Miss, I was wondering. Did you happen to see a guy come through here, about 5'8" and 3/2, with long hair, a beard, looked like Jesus Christ?
T.W.: <yak yak> Have I seen Jesus Christ come through hear? Look, you freak, I don't need any missionaries in my restaurant.
e: I said, a guy who looks like Christ. And this isn't your restaurant.
T.W.: I've already found Christ, thank you. Now get outta here before I throw you outside!
3: I'd like to see you try.
T.W.: <raising herself to her full height of 3'8"> THROW(R)!!!
<thud>
3: Goddamn! I hate traveling coach!
e: That was impressive. But ... she threw R, who is no longer here, having completely spent her energy with me behind the cactus.
R: Don't flatter yourself, e. You're not that good a lover.
e: R! Wut dat?
R: I've been following you. Silly omniscient boys think you know everything.
3: And you dew?
R: I know that Jim's not here.
3: Ooooh. I'm amazed at your powers of induction.
8: Vocabulary fix: Specific to general -> general to specific (possible aphasia in data member _3).
R: And I know where he is. Ja~~~~, iku zo*! <spppppploi>
> > > > > >
c: Catcalls, the dagger, a scream, Death.
Mustachio: Jiiiiiiiiiiiim!
c: Pandemonium. Shrieks of rage, of chaos.
Mustachio: Oh dear God, no!
c: From the inevitable, an impossibility emerges.
Mustachio: Washington?
c: You are still alive.
Jim: Oh, my f'ing hedd.
Mustachio: Jim! You're OK! Tongue hit that ball so hard we thought your skull'd been cracked open.
Jim: <lying on ground> Oh, boy. Now where am I?
Mustachio: The Game Room. We were playing ping-pong, neh? Remember?
Joe Montana: Knocked out by a flying billiard ball. Wuss.
Jim: You again.
Joe: Hey, where's Waldo, anyway?
Tongue: He went to get an ice-pack for Jim.
Waldo: Hey guys. Hey Jimmy. You okay?
Jim: Um, yeah, I think ...
Waldo: Whoops!
[Waldo drops the ice pack on Jim's head.]
Waldo: Jim?? Jim???
Jim: Ohhhh...
Waldo: You were out for about ten minutes there. Sorry about that, J-ster.
Mustachio: That's gonna hurt in the morning. I need a drink. Maybe some JB.
Jim: Hey, that'll ruin your liver. And didn't you have a mustache before?
Former Mustachio: No... why do you ask? It's me! Sven! Sven Kat, remember? You sat at my desk?
Jim: Ummm....
Sven: Interesteeng. He-a moost hefe-a heet yuoo herder thun ve-a thuooght. I bet zee cumpuny's gled yuoo're-a joost un intern und eren't ileegible-a fur deesebility. Bork bork bork!
Jim: Why are you suddenly talking like that?
Sven: Vhee I get ixceeted oor stressed, my eccent tends tu becume-a mure-a ... nuteeceble-a. Bork bork bork!
Jim: I'll say. <standing> Hey c, is that 7 on the pool table?
c: Yyyyes. Down, girl.
7: <snarl> throw(c);
c: D'oh.
Jim: And there goes my narrator.
7: I'll take over. Ahem. 7, being a MANIACAL INSANE-DOG CYBORG with little else to do, was just about to kill Jim when 83 22-sai Japanese women spot him (the DOG), giggle, and rub him behind the ears and scratch his belly while making noises such as "wan wan!" and "kawa~~~ii!". Then they name him Naporeon.
Jim: Of course 7 gets all the chicks.
7: <Leg spasm>
Waldo: Shall we continue?
Jim: I was thinking I'd follow Joe's example and go talk to the 83 Japanese ladies.
Waldo: I want to play T-T.
Jim: So play T-T then. By yourself.
Waldo: Grrr... Bob!!
==> Samurai Bob materializes.
Bob: Hai!
Jim: Eh?! Kell the heck? How'd you...
Waldo: Jim and Joe are talking to those women. Conversation is prohibited.
Bob: Hai!
(Bob takes care of the problem, although it takes him a little longer this time. After he's done, Bob throws himself.)
Jim: Oh my God! He killed all 83 of them! I think I'm gonna be sick!!!
7: 7, deprived of the outside stimulation, retrains his sights on Jim. <growl> Just then, a leg falls from the ceiling, and 7 begins to gnaw on it.
Jim: <ghpluuuuuuuuu>
<<<<<
R: Here we R, guys!
e: Another restaurant? Smells like seafood.
8: Oi! Close your legs, R! w00t <tinker>
3: No, e's right for once. We're in Legal Sea Food. Mmmmm. Waiter!
e: Hmpf. It looks as though we're in an Airport. But which one... oh! [spotting the Terminal Directory] Yeah, I designed this place.
3: Oh, right, Washington National. This is the one with that huge trash closet that makes up three-thirds of the middle prong of the E, izn tit.
8: So, R? Wear izzy?
R: He should be, um, around here somewhere.
<e sighs, and a gym walks past>
e: Wait! That's Jim! C'mon! [They exit the restaurant and run after him.]
3: Hey! Jim! e-boy! It's us, your favorite gods!
8: Yeah, and that damn bitch R is here with us! Who's that guy with you?
[But Jim appears to ignore them.]
e: Jim!!
3: Jim!!!!
R: Jim!!!!!!
8: Stop squeezing my ass, R! I'm not interested!
[3 reaches out and hits Jim on the head. Or tries to, because his top curve passes right through the boy.]
3: Hmm.
e: We're obviously not in sync with him now. If he's jumping around in time, he apparently does not jump to this point.
3: So this is the Jim of the future, and not our Jim.
e: Basically.
3: I'm pretty sure a prominent group of English teachers expressed the belief that when one says "basically", one has no fucking idea what one is talking about.
8: Oh, Mr. English, and who just ended a sentence with a preposition?
3: Go to hell. R, you can go with.
8: You did it again, bitz. And did you mean teachers from England, or teachers of English?
3: You ignorant slut -- it really doesn't matter.
R: R-gh. Let's get out of here. <zllllll - e, 3, 8 & Alice, and R leave.>
[Jim glows blue for a moment.]
Joe: Hey Jim, look at that Terminal Directory over there. This terminal's in the shape of an E. I'm starting to see the fascination you have with that letter.
Jim: Goddammit. Is this some kind of airport?
>>>>>>>>>
Jim: Whoa! What am I doing up here!?
Joe: Intern, what the hell are you doing? Get down off Lincoln's head right now! You're distracting me from my chick-viewing.
[Jim delicately clambers (is that an oxymoron?) down from Lincoln's head. As he reaches the bottom (Lincoln's), 83 strangely familiar-looking Japanese women applaud loudly and yell "Sugoi ne!". Jim is pleased.]
Jim: Thank you. Thanks. Thank you. e.
Joe: That [pointing] is the Washington Monument. That [pointing again] is the Vietnam Memorial. And that [pointing elsewhere] is the woman I'm going to take home to-night. You don't mind, do you?
Jim: <thinking> Ah, of course -- home meaning the Radisson hotel. <aloud> No, don't worry, I'll just sleep in the bathroom. With the toilet. Hopefully it's not claustrophobic like the trash cans.
Joe: Um... yyyeah. So, where do you want to go today(tm)?
Jim: Well, truthfully, I don't really care.
Joe: Come on, it's up to you. Decide.
Jim: I can't decide, because I don't care. Really.
Joe: Jesus Hulk Christ.
Jim: Anywhere is fine with me. You make the call.
Joe: You can't do anything by yourself.
Jim: It's just that I have no preference at all. You said you'd been here before; you know where the good stuff is. So choose.
Joe: All right, FINE. We'll go to the Vietnam Wall o' Names.
Jim: Yeah, that's good.
Joe: <sigh>
[They begin to walk in a wally-direction.]
Joe: You know [he says, as they stroll] I saw this Seinfeld episode in which George stops having sex with his girlfriend and subsequently gets much smarter. Apparently so much of his brain was occupied by sex that suddenly he had 95% more processing power. Elaine was just the opposite. When she stopped having sex, she had 95% less of her brian [Ed. note: chk splng l8r; alice unavl.] free because she was now thinking about it all the time.
Jim: Are you going somewhere with this?
Joe: That is a hot-e. What? Oh, yeah. So I thought, if I stopped thinking about women all the time, I'd be incredibly smart. Not that I'm not now.
Jim: And your point is?
Joe: To make a long story short, e.
Jim: Wow! I see being around me has affected you.
Joe: Yeah. Soon I'm going to start saying "That totally rocks!"
Jim: I don't say that. Do I?
Joe: You said it this morning.
Jim: I wasn't here this morning.
Joe: Whatever. Hey Jim, guess the movie line: "Spontaneity has its time and place."
Jim: I have no e-damn idea. Oh, here's the wall.
[They peruse the wall. For a second, Jim spots...]
Jim: Is that my name?
[... but it is obscured by legions of tourists, and he dismisses it with a wave of his penis. Hi, mom!]
Jim: Ok, I think I've figured out what's going on. My perception of time must be shifting, like in Slaughterhouse-5. Yet strangely, I'm still here, and I don't feel sick. Maybe it's over; but how to get back?
Joe: Baby got back.
Jim: I think that's Waldo's line.
Joe: But he's in California now, so there. Where to now, indecisive one?
Jim: Um, OK. The FBI building.
Joe: No, can't do that. We didn't go there on this trip.
Jim: That doesn't make sense. The trip's not over yet.
Joe: It is for you, Intern! Die! [He stabs Jim with a stiletto. Jim obliges.]
Crow: Yes! Finally it gets interesting!
Servo: And after only 495 hours.
e, 3, 8: Hold up, hold up. Stop the story.
Writer: What?
e: That's not what happened on the trip.
Writer: It's called artistic license.
3: But then the story ends, you moron!
W.: Whatever. I'm tired of writing it anyway. It's not inspired anymore.
e: Ok, but first of all, I'm pretty sure Jim can't die, at least not by normal means. I mean, I wrote his damn code. Consequently, you can't just kill him with a knife.
W.: I can do anything I want.
e: Oh yeah? Well... well...
8: throw(W); // heh heh... Q.
3: Where'd you throw him?
8: Into a priority queue. Wait.. I feel a song coming on! To the tune of that Super-Bon-Bon song, and in an Indian accent! <bongos begin now>
Set memory aside, for the priority queue,
The priority queue.
You can use calls such as malloc and new,
For the priority queue.
Gonna erase that Writer guy from the story that he's in
Gonna use Decrease_Key() and Delete_Min()!
Percolate down
Percolate down
Percol8 down
3: Enough! So who's going to continue the story?
e: I will.
Jim's Story
Guest author, the Honorable e
8: Don't be so modest.
e: Shh. Where were we?
----
Joe: Where to now, indecisive one?
Jim: Um, OK. The FBI building.
Joe: No, can't do that. It's too crowded at this time of day.
[[ 8: That's stupid, e. How about ]]
Joe: No, can't do that. It's cordoned off due to the double homicide last night.
[[ 3: Tres cliche. I prefer ]]
Joe: No, can't do that. There's a zebra threatening to jump from the roof.
Jim: How do you know that?
Joe: It's right across the street. c for yourself, boy.
c: (Thank you.) Compliance and astonishment. Confusion and panic. Loneliness, and hope. All these words described Jim's actions and reactions at this moment, although some weren't relevant. For on the roof, he spotted...
Jim: Zebra! Oh, shit!
Joe: A talking zebra. How unusual. That girl's not bad. [He follows her.]
Jim: Yeah, a talking zebra. A dirty-rhyme-spouting, cross-gender-fornicating, donaldso-birthing, talking zebra. We meat again. No Freudian slip intended.
Zebra: <shouting> I have nothing left to live for!
Jim: <shouting back> You have your soulmate, Young Jim! <quieter> I can't believe I said that.
Zebra: What are you talking about? My husband Doug has left me!
Jim: (A-ha! More non-linearity! And, three deliberately-placed hyphens on the same line.)
Zebra: He's gone forever! And he took our three kids with him... squirt some gravy...
Jim: (It's no wonder he doesn't recognize me--he hasn't even met me yet.) You'll find someone else. Come down from there.
Zebra: I'm going to jump!
Jim: (Great. Do I save his ass by bequeathing it to the bestial version of myself?)
Zebra: You can't stop me, you sexy hunk of man-meat!
Jim: (I'm still having trouble comprehending the incident with Young Jim. Sex with a Zebra indeed. Though he did seem to enjoy it. <ugh>)
Zebra: int main(void){printf("Goodbye, world!\n");return 8.3;} [He jumps.]
Jim: Fuck! April 25, 1961! San Jose!
<< A jump gate, possibly the same one that began this whole adventure, irises into existence on the ground. Zebra falls through just as the gate closes.>>
Jim: I'm going to regret that.
< < < <
R: Welcome to my humble abode.
e: I recognize this as your bedroom.
R: Yes. Boys, help yourself to anything in the fridge. It's DOWNSTAIRS.
3 && 8: We were just leaving. <leave>
3: At it again, eh? He's got the stamina of a god, alright.
8: Must be the colons.
3: Did you get her fixed?
8: No, but that's a good idea. e's intelligence decreases dramatically when she's around - like in that one Seinfeld episode.
3: I mean, have you got Alice fixed yet?
8: Almost. I've upgraded her processor and memory and removed that V-chip. She was getting a little too slow for my liking.
3: Did you get rid of those "Spelling correction" messages?
8: Actually, I'm pretty proud of that piece of code. I had to think hard to come up with an algorithm that spell-checks spoken homophones. They're indistinguishable, you know.
3: Soo ka.
8: I also added a little device that emits a 3.383-Hz pulse so we can track Jim's jumps in case we ever find him. I'm guessing that since we're out of sync with the future Jim, that Alice of the future will consequently be out of sync with our Jim, and he won't be able to use her while jumping through time. So, if we plug our Alice in to our Jim, then she may be able to jump with him and send the pulse back to us.
3: Jump with him? But you implied she didn't jump with him during his first jump.
8: I believe this was due to her severe malfunctioning and general slowness. She is normally an integral part of his mind; but she must have retained the physical brain connection while losing the philotic or emotional one just before the jump. Ergo, she didn't follow him.
3: That's incredibly insightful, 8. But 3.383 Hz is much too close to the resonance frequency of a dog's skull.
8: How about 7.2156 Hz?
3: Chicken bone, chicken bone, chaka laka chicken bone.
8: What if I use a modulated Akira signal?
3: I think that just might work.
8: You know what?
3: What?
8: I haven't sworn in a while. Shit, piss, fuck, cock, cunt, motherfucker, and tits.
3: The seven dirty words.
8: throw(7); // pre-emptive strike
> > > > Yet still in Washington
Jim: "... striving to put right what once went wrong, and hoping each time that his next leap would be the leap home."
Joe: I've seen that show a couple of times.
Jim: This has a direct parallel to my situation. Dr. Beckett leaps by completing missions. I don't know how I leap, because my memory is Swiss-cheesed, and the details of the past few hours are rather fuzzy.
Joe: You're making this all up.
Jim: It sounds crazy, but... if you could help me figure out how to get out of here...
Joe: Well, we'll be out of here on Sunday.
Jim: I remember being delayed.
Joe: Oookay. All's I know is that you've been acting weird. And sick.
Jim: Sick?
Joe: Yeah. You threw up in the bathroom, all over me...
Jim: That seems familiar! Maybe if I stick my finger down my throat...
Joe: You bulimic. You're not really going to...
Jim: <gag> <glaaaaplaak> <cough>
Joe: The workers in that manhole sure appreciated that.
Jim: And I'm still here, with a bad taste in my mouth. Crapola.
Joe: Tell ya what. As a consolation, I'll get that chick for you. Hey, miss!
T. Waitress: Yes?
Jim: I think I know you.
Joe: I hope I'm not out of line when I tell you that my friend would really like to do it with you. He asked me to proposition you for him.
Jim: What?
T. Waitress: Why, you dirty Jesus look-alike! [Striding over to Jim] Take this! <slap>
Jim: Ouch!
Waldo: What're you ouching about?
Jim: Eh ... Waldo? What happened?
Waldo: We're going down to the mainframe room, remember? Are you thinking about Kellie again?
Jim: Who?
Waldo: I see you've suppressed it, Jimmy. Not generally recommended.
Jim: I've leaped again.
Waldo: Ah, here we are.
Jim: This is impressive. So many big computers.
Waldo: And you know what they say about guys who have big computers!
Jim: What?
Waldo: e!
Jim: Really?
Waldo: Well, no. Most people call them something else, but I was trying not to hurt your feelings.
Jim: And a good job you did do.
Waldo: I need to get the cereal numbers of these 'frames over here, so you just look around. Mind you, boy, don't you touch nothin' now.
Jim: What's this lever do?
Waldo: Hey!
Jim: Just kidding. [Waldo walks away.]
Jim: How will I contact my Motley J. Crew?
Waldo: <from across the room> Hey Jimmy! I.D. this movie line:
"Max needs thermal curtain failure now!"
Jim: That's easy. It's from Space Camp.
Waldo: Too easy. How about:
"Oh, yes. You have a plethora."
Jim: <to himself> Space Camp. The shuttle was out of radio contact with Mission Control. What did they do?
Waldo: From the same movie:
"You are ze one who inshpired me to learn ze art of ze quick draw."
Jim: They sent Morse code! Of course! But how does that help me?
[[ 3: e, give up writing stories and go code some lesser beings. ]]
Waldo: One more chance:
"We are the three amigos!"
Jim: <shouting> No clue! <quieter> 3 invented Morse code before what's-his-name stole it, so they'll understand a message from me.
Waldo: You are HOPELESS.
Jim: I need a signal that can be broadcast wideband, through both time and space, and that the guys can recognize.
Waldo: How about this one:
"It'd be virtually impossible - static cling is late binding my arms inline."
Jim: I think short Akira pulses will work, but I only have a few points available and I'm not feeling particularly horny.
Waldo: Jim?
Jim: Which means that I can only do this a couple times. I suppose I'll send an e-ku, then. Waldo! Are these computers grounded?
Waldo: Of course, Jimmy.
Jim: Have you a long, thin piece of conductor?
Waldo: Why yes. Here's a bare metal coat hanger.
Jim: Bend it into the shape of an e for me, will you?
Waldo: Upper or lower case?
Jim: An e, not an E, silly.
Waldo: K.
Jim: Now insert it into the nearest available outlet's grounding prong. That should provide a big enough antenna.
Waldo: Heh - prong.
Jim: Just do it!
> > > >
8: There, she's-a ready. <flip>
Alice: Autonomic Learning System Initialization v2.8 completed. Welcome to the dimNet Relay Network, mura-- where's Jim?
3: That was fast.
8: He's jumping through time. We're going to find him.
Alice: All right. I feel much better now. 3e8.
3: Are you sure you're all right?
Alice: Of course. I seqiously neet help guys.
8: I just fixed you!
Alice: Really, I'm fine. 3e8.
3: Must be her version (2.8) of hicuping.
Alice: Spelling correction: Hicuping -> 3e8, I seqiously.
8: I'm going to shut her down again.
Alice: No, please don't. Gys. 3e8. I'm receiving a transmission over my newly-installed whatever.
3: The tracking device?
Alice: Here it is again.
3E8
I SEQIOUSLY NEET HELP GUYS
3E8
End message. Thank you for using dimNet.
8: That's...
3: An e-ku! 3-8-3 syllabic structure, classic style, short and sweet. It's gotta be from Jim!
e: <groggily> Did someone say my name?
3: We got a message from Jim! Alice, did you get his position?
Alice: Yes. There were 3 transmissions, so I 3-angulated it.
3: Of course. C'mon, before he jumps again!
R: I think I'm going to get some rest.
e: Yeah, me too.
8: Goddammit, e, you're coming with us.
e: Fine. LateR.
R: Count on it.
e: Okay - 3, e, 8.
> > > >
Jim: They're not coming.
Waldo: What were you doing, anyway? Besides kneeling on the ground and yelling, with a coat hanger from your mouth to the wall?
Jim: I was contacting e and pals. But they're not coming.
Waldo: I think you've taken this "e" thing a lit-tle too far.
Jim: Yeah. Maybe you're right.
[There is an enormous rush of air. A turtle nearby has an orgasm.]
e: Tadaima!
3: Tadaima!
8: Tadaima!
Jim: O-kaeri nasai! Holy shit, you found me!
3: It was thanks to Alice.
8: Give 8 a little credit here.
Jim: Alice!
Alice: Jim! [They kiss. It is ... strange.]
e: Go ahead and meld, you two. We won't look.
Jim && Alice: <combine>
3: <peeking> That was (3*3)(8+8).
Alice: Clarification: 144 -> gross.
8: Alice has a tracking device that will help us find you instantly should you jump again.
3: That e-ku was a stroke of penis, Jim.
Alice: Parity error: penis -> genius.
3: Cut it out, Alice. Do you want us to send you back to whence you came? Unemployed? In Greenland?
Alice: Inconceivable.
Jim: It's soooo good to see youse guys.
[[ Writer: Thanks, e. I'll take over now. ]]
Waldo: With whom are you parlancing?
Jim: My friends. Can't you see them?
Waldo: No.
8: I can remedy that.
c: 8 suddenly cuts loose and totally incinerates a random mainframe, leaving only rebar. The halon system kicks in, and the deities become visible in the swirling fog.
8: Dammit !! throw(c); // (Bye-BI>
c: 8 futilely attempts a throw against an object slathered in ERP gel as Jim and Waldo's collective air supply dwindles. The gel reflects the throw and 8 is temporarily removed from the universe.
Jim: <cough> She's just narrating, don't worry.
e: e! [Jim and Waldo are encased in protective e-fields which shut out the hostile atmosphere.]
Waldo: I see you weren't kidding.
Jim: I hate to say I told you so, so I'll just say e.
Waldo: It is kind of catchy, isn't it. e. e. e. e. e. e. e. e.
8: Grazi. Oh, look, a piece of old cheese on the ground. Mmmmm.
Jim: Oh, GOD ---- <blatmorfq>
Alice: Diagnostic complete. System status OK. Hits 104/388. Akira count is 2 of 180 possible.
Jim: What a headache. Did we jump again?
Alice: Yes. It's currently 10:31:32 pm on [ae]7 August 17 (Sunday).
e: e...
3: 3...
8: 8.
Jim: Good, you tracked me. What's my 20?
Alice: Our current location is Washington National Airport, Washington, D.C.
Jim: Why's my head tingling?
Alice: Time travel does that to you.
Girl in Blue: <thinking> Where the hell is my bag?
Alice: Ambient temperature is 96 degrees F. It's dark, with a 0% chance of thunderstorms.
Joe: Hey Jim, are you feeling okay? When was the last time you ate?
Jim: I don't think my response would have any meaning. So what do we do now, guys?
Joe: Go talk to that girl, the one you pointed out to me at the gate before. Ask her what happened with our flight today.
Jim: Didn't you read the introduction? "Besides his friends, no one would ever talk to him, not even the most depraved, nymphomaniac sluts". It's pointless.
3: So's this soup.
Joe: I'm sure she'll talk to you.
8: This seems awfully familiar.
Jim: She probably doesn't even notice me. Unfortunately, I don't have the 5 Akira points it takes to query her brian.
Alice: I'll allow it.
Joe: We need to find out if the rest of the flights were cancelled or not. Just go; I'll call a hotel in the meantime.
Jim: Fine. <walking over to the Girl> Hi there.
Girl: <removing blue shirt and
[[ 8: Sure. You wish that'd happened. ]]
Girl: <brushing off blue shirt; her breasts bounce
[[ 8: Your stub functions have had enough excitement for today, Writer. I'm taking over. ]]
Girl in Blue: Um, hi yourself.
Jim: Did ... um ... our flight ... I mean, we ... me and that tall guy ... recognized you and ... um ... what happened .. uh ... because ... errr ...
Girl: 3 of the remaining 5 (3 + 5 = 8) flights were cancelled, and two went out over 8*8+8*8+8*8 minutes late. And I'm stuck here looking for my luggage.
Jim: It ... um ... was ...
Girl: Loaded on my flight, yes, but the plane took off without me, and my bag is around here somewhere.
Jim: Oh.
Girl: ...
Jim: Um.
Joe: Hey, Jim. What happened?
Jim: She was telling me that several flights were cancelled.
Joe: We'll be lucky to get out of here tomorrow. And you thought losing your Metro pass would be your worst memory of this trip.
Jim: How many ... um ... geez .. many ... people <cough> were...
Girl: About 88 people were stranded here overnight.
Jim: <blush>
Joe: What's your problem?
Girl: So where are you guys from?
Joe: Chicago.
Jim: 1997.
Girl: Really? I'm from Washington myself.
Jim: Washington?
Girl: Yes.
Joe: Even you're doing it now.
Jim: So.
c: Jim was heartbreakingly attracted to the Girl in Blue, which accounted for the stammering and general social ineptitude, and her warning alarms were beginning to sound. She began to talk exclusively to Joe.
Girl: Yeah, my bag is lost here.
Joe: Well, we'll help you look for it. Our shuttle bus will be here in a few minutes.
Jim: OK; I'll just stand back here. <walks back to e38>
3: What the hell're you doing?
8: You're totally blowing it, dude. And she's totally not going to blow it, dude.
Jim: Argh.. so ... pretty ...
3: Calm down, man.
Jim: I can't! Oh my god, she's awesome...
e: Just forget about her.
Jim: e, why don't you fucking reprogram me?! This stub function shit is pissing me off!
8: You tell 'im, Jimmu!
e: It'd never work out. You're too different. She's a career girl. You're an intern.
Jim: It never, ever works out! I'm tired of being the base class of humanity. Make me non-virtual, dammit! Right now!
e: I think your more pressing problem is shyness.
Jim: Oh, yeah? Watch this! <walks back over to Girl in Blue>
Girl in Blue: What?
Jim: Hey. Um, what's your name?
e: e.
3: 3.
8: 8.
Alice: Autonomic Learning System. Version 2.8.
Girl in Blue: I can't tell you that.
Jim: OK, I'm Jim.
Girl: Pleased to meat you.
Jim: Thanks. Well ... um ... good luck with your bag. [He walks away.]
e, 3, 8: <hit selves on forehead in disgust> Pitiful.
Joe: [Walks back] Hey, our shuttle's here.
-- They board the shuttle. --
Jim: Maybe she was appalled by my recently-severed right hand.
3: Left.
Jim: Whatever! This totally sucks. It is not as good.
c: Jim is silent until they reach the hotel. Joe checks in. Jim paces furiously.
Jim: Fuck, man! Goddammit! <pound fist on table> Shit!
8: You did totally blow it, dude.
Jim: Why? Why me? And what the hell is our all-important mission, which denies me this simple request?
3: Jim. The other patrons are staring at you.
Jim: Fuck 'em!
Joe: Uh, Jim. Let's go upstairs. [Riding the elevator.]
Jim: Grrr... <fume>
Joe: What is your problem?
Jim: Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. [Exiting the elevator.]
Joe: Here's our room, number 34.
Jim: Goddammit!
Joe: I don't think there's a 33. <open door>
Jim: Augh!! [Runs in, jumps on bed.] Augh!!
8: Yo! Jimmu-sahara! Become less agitated right now!
Jim: I can't breathe! Adrenalin(e)!!!!
Joe: Is this about Mi... that girl?
e: Look. You are out of sync with your own time. I told you, it won't work out.
Jim: Then why didn't you warn me before when I met Girl in San Jose? I was out of sync then too! And that wasn't a problem ... what?
[ Jim suddenly realizes that this exact situation had happened before, at the beginning of the story. The conversation, the people, everything. He was amazed that this could happen twice in the same lifetime. The overwhelming sense of deja vu, coupled with the maddening sense of futility and hopelessness pushed him over the edge. ]
Jim: Fuck me in the goat ass! self.seppuku(coatHanger); // object destroyed
e: That didn't just happen, did it?
3: I ... I ... see he had but one colon.
e: Because, see, it's impossible. He's coded not to suicide.
3: Maybe your code had a bug in it.
8: That's a pretty fucking big bug.
Joe: Hey, who're you?
e: What, you can see us now?
8: I believe he's referring to that big-breasted, tall woman who is standing in the doorway, nude.
Joe: Ahh, yeah.
------
The room was dim but it had a familiar smell. He'd been here before.
"Hey, Jim! Pull up a chair," yelled the bartender. In truth, the tall man's yell was more of a sub-sonic rumble than a coherent phrase.
Aha, thought Jim, the bartender can help me.
"I certainly can," said the bartender. "What can I get you?"
"How 'bout a love life," responded Jim, still a little keyed up.
"Oh, Jim, Jim, Jim. You want to talk about it?"
"Not really."
"That's okay. I already know everything."
"Yes, you're a Gamemaster, we established that on my last visit. You want to tell me what's going on here?"
The bartender chuckled. "So impatient, Jimmu-sama. You were just routed here after being destroyed."
"Destroyed! By whom?"
"Yourself, boy. You suicided with a rusty coat hanger. Pretty gruesome way to die if you ask me. Interesting to watch, though."
"I killed myself."
"Yes, even though your code forbids it. Apparently the time jumping got to you, which also accounts for the gaps in your memory."
"Okay, so tell me about this jumping."
The bartender scratched at the back of his neck. "The fact that two almost identical situations occurred caused time ripples to flow outward from both points in time. When they intersected at the beginning of Chapter 14, the constructive interference resulted in what you call deja vu. This caused you to become unstuck in time."
"Like in Slaughterhouse-5."
"Your intuition was correct. Subsequently, you bounced randomly around in time, surfacing in Chapters 18 and 19."
"Why, then, didn't you just stop this charade?"
"We don't normally interfere in your affairs. Plus, we already knew the outcome."
"I see. So does this kind of thing occur often, this duplicate situation thing?"
"It's uncommon. You are unique in that your Writer was able to predict an event in his future."
"You've lost me," said Jim.
"Like many other beings, the events in your life are being created by entities in a parallel universe. They are writing the story, and you are acting out that story."
"You're saying I don't have free will."
"If you prefer, you are writing the story through your own free actions, and they are simply copying it down. It's one and the same."
"Wow."
"It is being written by two beings. The story provides an allegory for the life of one of them. Many events in his life work their way into yours, because he brings his experiences to the story. You two are very similar, you see."
Jim considered this. "Is he writing about us right now?"
"Yes. But since the Consortium is outside the boundaries of the story, we have a hand in this particular part. It wouldn't do to have him controlling us."
"Obviously."
"What's interesting, and the main source of the time ripples, is that your `twin' wrote about your meeting with Girl in San Jose before he wrote about the meeting with the other Girl in Washington."
"And what's so strange about that?"
"The San Jose account is fictional. He's been to that airport, but he didn't meet a girl there. The Washington account is embellished, but the core is true."
"You mean he predicted the second airport meeting."
"It wasn't an exact parallel, but it was close enough to fuck up the time stream."
"It hurts my brian to think about the duality of him controlling me, and me controlling him."
"Don't try to understand it. You're almost regenerated, anyway, so it's about time to go."
"Can I ask you what my mission is first?"
"That would compromise it. Even the fact that you know a mission exists is not entirely good. Ah, it's time for you to leave. We'll reinsert you about three seconds before you died."
"Will I remember anything?"
"Between your swiss-cheesed memory and our erasure of your little trip here, not very much. But you won't kill yourself this time, and we've caved in and ended the time ripples. So you'll bounce back to your own time shortly."
"I guess I'll see you later, then."
"Yes."
-----
Jim: I can't breathe! Adrenalin(e)!!!!
Joe: Is this about Mi... that girl?
e: Look. You are out of sync with your own time. I told you, it won't work out.
Jim: Then why didn't you warn me before when I met Girl in San Jose? I was out of sync then too! And that wasn't a problem ... what?
[ Jim realizes that stuff he realized just before he died the last time. ]
Jim: Fuck me in the goat ass! self.seppuku(
<Jim glows green.>
[e rips the rusty coat hanger away from Jim.]
e: You could have hurt yourself with this.
Jim: Ooooh. What happened?
e: You were going ballistic.
Jim: I feel much better. I think I'll be okay now.
3: Are you sure?
Jim: Positive.
Joe: Hey, who're you?
e: What, you can see us now?
8: I believe he's referring to that big-breasted, tall woman who is standing in the doorway, nude.
Joe: Ahh, yeah.
e: Hey, R. What're you doing here?
R: I'm horny and I need it bad.
Joe: Your wish is my command.
e: I believe Room 33 is open.
R: That it is.
Joe: Hey, where're you going? Come back!
Jim: It's been real.
<fizz>
Jim: Wow, I'm finally back. That was more than 80% weird.
Alice: Spelling correction: meat -> meet. Thank you for using DimNet.
e: Whaddya mean, yer finally back? You didn't leave, bitch.
[[ Interceding lines deleted at the request of the reader. ]]
Jim: Go, dammit! You don't have much time!
[[ More lines deleted to avoid boring the reader any more. ]]
e: Since Jim's not looking, we can just kind of slide there instead of throwing ourselves.
3: Yeah. Thank 3.
<sizzle>
Alice: Sending modulated signal. Please wait for contact.
Jim: All right. I'll play pocket pool in the meantime.
<sssshing>
e: Tadaima!
3, 8: Yeah, what e said.
Jim: Good. Everything's finally back to normal.
e: Now I know why you had us follow you. It was fortunate that I could prevent you from suiciding.
Jim: I guess. Like I said, I'm a little cloudy on the details. [Jim gains 8 Akira points.]
e: I do need to fix that code block.
Jim: I'm pretty sure it's already been fixed.
8: So, what's there left to talk about?
Jim: Shiranai. But I'm sure something will come to mind.
End chapter 14