3rd June, 1993
What a debacle. Here they were stuck in the middle of nowhere, nothing in sight but endless sand-dunes, a six-lane highway, nine beach resorts, three shopping malls, a major transport terminal, and sixty bottles of Dom Perignon. It winked out of existence as they pressed the button, and stepped out of the virtual reality machine and back into the toaster. Anja sighed, as she was wont to do. ``Ozalp, it just isn't the same anymore. All we ever do is make soggy space time warped toast, what ever happened to the multi-dimensional crusty crumpets?'' Ozalp didn't seem interested in Anja's problem, the blender looked much more inviting. He devoured it hungrily, washing it down with a glass of Dom Perignon. The crusts rushed in noisily chased by an equal number of naked slices of bread. Ozalp saw further opportunity for his cause so he exploded.
Nearby in a egg yoke the famous comedy duo Steak and Kidney were about to tell their famous two slices of lightly browned toast joke when a basenji interrupted their performance with a display of naughty French postcards. This had but slight effect on Dennis, the sensual warthog as he had been out walking with Prunella only the day before. ``My love'', he wrote in Golden Syrup on the blueberry coated table, ``is like a handful mixed nuts, all Walnuts and Cashews, when all you want is a salted Peanut''. Dennis was depressed, and he felt he couldn't go on and was about to shoot himself with the loaded banana when suddenly in through the door blew a delightful spring breeze which eventually dislodged his toupee. He decided to get on with it anyway.
Upon hearing the blast, Ozalp bounded in and, spying Dennis slumped in the corner, lifted his leg and did what dogs do best. ``Have you no respect for the inured arrow that is sticking out of my throat?'' he gurgled and was no more, or no less for that matter. Yes, the universe continued to conserve mass, which was fortunate as the residents didn't want it to go on a diet, regardless of the junk mail it received from Jenny Craig. Patrick took pity on the now-dead man and began to profusely bleed to death. The Universe maintained its mass conservation binge and began to form a black hole out of Patrick's body, a small black hole that is, well tiny really, well actually more of a black pin hole really, nevermind. Jenny Craig in the rush to sign up the universe for a weight loss program fell down one of the wells in the previous sentence and shot herself in a pique of guilt.
In a puddle of endomorphic tarantulas a brisk walk away, Ozalp had collected a small pile of kneebraces for his master, who was dead in amazement. He wasn't sure who he was, even if he was the postman. He sighed as he arose from his coffin to deliver the letters while he barked up the wrong tree and came to a grinding halt in front of the precipice. Realising that he hadn't been here before, hence knew not of the existence of this particular impressive and imposing precipice, he came to the sad conclusion that he had had no right to stop, so he threw himself over the edge and would have been dashed to pieces on the rocks below except for the knives that sliced him up on the way down. Fortunately, he was but a small and insignificant wart on the face of reality, and his anonynimity failed to impress anyone.
Robert grunted. He had finally triumphed over the evil sendmail; there was another trip to the elderberry field due, and the previous author ended the line early, so Robert, the small furry toadstool and Arthur all made their way through the field of flowering BNC connectors and out into the ioctl forest. Arthur had a question for the kernel. ``If I use SO_KEEPALIVE, will that be sufficient to keep this story going, or would a SO_LINGER be more appropriate?'' The kernel replied in monolithic tones (it was a SysVR4 kernel), ``le0: No carrier - transceiver exploded''. Not surprisingly, the board had given up under Missed 'em 5.
Luke Vaxhacker strode into the room, shaking his head and sipping shiraz. ``Not again!'' cried Anja, and she sprinted towards the gaping hole in the ozone layer. The sea of chaos swirled malevolently below her as she hung by her tippy toes. Stuart laughed, giggled, cackled, chortled, chuckled, sniggered, gaffawed, snickered, kakked, tittered, split his sides open and generally was amused. General Amused however, was not impressed and threw himself on his sword. Unfortunately his sword was still embedded in Stuart's head so Stuart, the General and Fifi the frog went tumbling over the chaotic money market in a buying frenzy. The bulls were having a terrific time of it for while they were long, they'd sell their grandmother's wheelchair. However, a temporal rift caught hold of October 1987 and brought it spinning in a doubleplusfullymoreful manner back to the farm in Kansas. ``Dorothy, where have you been!?' yelled Helga as she farted mysteriously and began to polish her grunge gun. ``And where's the bread I sent you off to buy?'' Dorothy replied ``Eat Lead you Ugly Bitch'' and proceeded to fire her gas powered AK-47 assault herring until Helga was reduced to tears. Robert was appalled by this violence and called the police.
Inspector Fishgut was scaled until he died, as was the annuity index, CPI ratio and countless other small businessmen in the nearby small hamlet of Volcan. Also nearby, in the small hamlet of Alcan, people were sweltering inside their aluminium slippers which the evil union lord had forbidden them to remove pending the results of the negotiations with the factory owners. Meanwhile the owners were sitting smugly by the fire in their carbon fibre slippers which were merrily burning away, charring their feet; at least it helped keep away the Lurgi, and other similar diseases which EeeeYackaBoo had caught on his last paper raft trip up the Amazon. EeeeYackaBoo was well know for the diseases of the Amazon, not because he discovered them but because he had most of them, including the dreaded purple puss zit who lived just around the bend. This also happened to be where his mind was going. Seeing it disappearing rapidly into the distance he felt a strange feeling of loss, but didn't have the intelligence to realise why. It never occurred to him that he was a diseased salamander. Fortunately, he was at that moment mown down by a Comet delivery van and was then positively somewhere overnight, well everywhere all day actually, in fact he was more of a red stain all over the place.
Jenny at that moment went off to see a movie about being flayed alive, which helped confuse the issue entirely. Ninety-nine bottles of beer on the wall were simultaneously exploding, causing a large amber shower. Meanwhile, the flaying continued unabated, which made it very hard to catch anything as the skin was tearing. Anja nursed the poor woman back to health, and quickly left for Bolivia when the police arrived. Meanwhile, the beer was going flat, partly because of the escape of CO2, but mostly due to the 25 ton steam roller that passed over the beer, the woman and Bolivia. However, due to the time taken to steamroll the entire country of Bolivia with a 25 ton steam roller, the universe ended before the project had been completed, leaving the company with an enormous consultant fee. They were never to be seen of again, or before for that matter. In fact, they didn't even want to be associated with Bill Clinton or the rollerblade craze that was sweeping the country of Bolivia and a small pantry in the corner of the kitchen. Unfortunately, the steam roller's automatic broom and rollerblade seek locate and destroy device was activated, causing weeping, wailing, and a general feeling that all was not well.
As Kevin regained consciousness he was aware that something odd had happened. Steam rollers do not normally burst into a million pieces after running over a few beers and a small country. Kevin was confused enough to cry, which he did, flooding the nearby hamlet of Westborough, two steam rollers, a replica of the Grand Canyon, and ninety nine bottles of beer. Bolivia was not involved in this exchange and became a desolated island in the Adriatic.
Disregarding the quincequonces, Aethelfrith rushed in and ate Ozalp, believing her submission to Queen Victoria was not only worthless but edible. Queen Victoria thought Ozalp had something and had Aethelfrith executed for having such a silly name. Fortunately for Aethelfrith, Queen Victoria mis-spelt the name on the execution certificate and as a result all steam rollers west of the Bolivian border were disassembled. The following uprising of worldwide steam rollers flattened most of the earth's surface until it was quashed by a passing Vogon spaceship which had breached copyright and entered the story.
As Bolivia steamed quietly into the 21st century and bands of weary, injured, maimed and dead characters stumbled back into their respective authors minds, a voice was raised in heated argument about the merits of the coal fired zepplin, and the gods sighed because they had heard this all before and it usually took a vast amount of effort to stop the story when it got going, so much could be written before some fool goes and puts in the final . The noodles, fortunately, solved the problem.