Forward: Well, I had to go and do it. Call me a lemming. This story is
much less a TALK/TWINKLE/CONFER "movie" than it's predecessors. It's
more of a story about the stories that surround the UMSFS/CYBER subculture.
And despite published reports, this is NOT an ElfQuest parody. I would
never do such a thing. (Well, hardly ever...)
My thanks to the main characters. Of course, they aren't really like that.
It's all fiction. There is no such place as UMass, UMSFS is a figment of
my imagination, and I made up all of this semester's Collegian stories
about Paul Kasman. Enjoy...
Redfang Vampire Elf, May 5, 1985
Umsmurfs
of
Gor (c) 1985 by Allen Wilkins (Redfang)
(or Crisis on Infinite Smurfs)
The setting: The terminal room of the Graduate Resmurf Center at the
Unismurfity of Massachusetts. The room is filled with chairs, tables, and
computer terminals made out of giant mushrooms and puffballs. Three blue
humanoids are seated amidst a cluster of Decwriters, watching the seemingly
endless streams of paper being produced. On the papers, titles are visible:
Manasmurf of the Programs, Raiders of the Lost Arch-Smurf, The Cysmurf Movie,
The Adventures of the S-Team, etc.
The three figures rise, and music starts playing in the background. Its
quality indicates that it comes from a dozen AIM-65s hooked up to cheap
speakers. There are three distinct tunes, and so naturally each figure
begins singing a different song.
Bluefang, Vampire Smurf: Natural Smurf: Tiggurf:
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Why are there so many I've got three exams The wonderful thing
about Tiggurfs
Tales about Confer, Tomorrow! Is Tiggurfs are
wonderful things!
And who's on the other side? If I don't do well Their legs are made
on them out of rubber;
Eating up P.R.U.s, Tomorrow, They nearly fly
without wings.
Some might call it abuse Then I'm sunk. They're happy, snappy,
Bouncy, pouncy,
And a source of lost pride; Just thinking about Fun fun fun fun fun!
I've read them too many Tomorrow But the most wonderful
times to ignore them, thing about Tiggurfs
They're part of this place Makes me want more Is I'm this only one!
where I be; study time to borrow,
Someday I'll find it, Or I'll flunk! La, la, la bounce
bounce bounce,
The Story Connection, Tomorrow, tomorrow, Bounce bounce bounce
la la,
The authors, the readers, Exams are tomorrow; Bounce, Bounce,
la la la la,
And Me! They're only a day la la la bounce bounce!
Away!
By this time, a bug in the AIM-65 programming has caused all three tunes
to merge together into "Greensleeves", and while it is possible to sing
ANYTHING to that tune, it's often not worth the effort. Fortunately,
Tiggurf bounces over to the corner where the AIMs are hidden and jumps on them
a few times, causing them to stop. He bounces back just as Bluefang is
starting his dramatic monologue. Natural Smurf is listening while she checks
her Mail.
Bluefang: What a waste of paper! Couldn't we have used VDTs for the opening
scene?
I *said*, just as Bluefang is starting his dramatic monologue...
Bluefang: Oh, sorry.
Why do people write these things? I mean, many of them show traces
of actual literary talent, but it's such a limiting medium! The
stories are incomprehensible except to a fairly small clique,
and those who DO understand them may take offense! Take
"Revenge of the Smurfily Frustrated", for instance...
N. Smurf: Exactly. Didn't it strike you as kind of smurfist?
MONologue, please...
Bluefang: I don't think Billy Smurf meant to be smurfist. I can
identify with his point of view. I look at him and think,
"There, but for the grace of God, go I."
Tiggurf : I thought you didn't believe in God.
*MON*--oh, hell with it. Dramatic dialogue.
Bluefang: I don't. That's the point.
N. Smurf: For a "dramatic dialogue" this is pretty boring. When is something
exciting going to happen?
Suddenly a tall (for a smurf), dark purple figure walks into the room.
It is Smurf Vader, wielding a blue lightsmurfer.
S. Vader: I find your lack of faith disturbing...
Bluefang: Wasn't that supposed to be a rhetorical que... ack... <choke>...
can't breathe...
S. Vader: Heh heh <wheeze> heh.
With lightning speed, Tiggurf picks up a giant mushroom and flings it
at Vader. With the speed of slightly faster lightning, Vader deflects it.
Tiggurf trips on a power cable and falls in front of Vader, who threatens
him with the lightsmurfer.
S. Vader: I have you now...
A length of RS232 cable shoots out of the doorway, coils around the
lightsmurfer handle, and rips it from Vader's hands. Indiana Smurfgrin
leaps into the room as Tiggurf rapidly crawls away.
Indiana : You're all clear, kid!
And as for you, Vader...
Using his RS232 cable, Indy yanks off Vader's helmet, revealing a pale
blue face. Bluefang gasps in horror.
Tiggurf : What's wrong?
Bluefang: I've seen him before! It's Paul Kasmurf!
Tiggurf : Who?
Bluefang: Also known as Paul Kas.
Tiggurf : Why?
Bluefang: You've heard of names being changed to protect the innocent? Well,
it's almost, but not quite, entirely unlike that.
Meanwhile, Natural Smurf has rather sensibly run to the other door
and flung it open, providing an escape route.
N. Smurf: We can stand around playing "Name-that-dark-lord-of-the-Smurf"
later! Move!
The three companions run out the door, down some hallways, and out into
the sunlight, Natural Smurf in the lead.
Bluefang: Where are we going? And don't say "Planet 10!"
N. Smurf: The Club, of course! Where else would we go after being rescued
from a fictional character by a fictional character?
Tiggurf : Shouldn't we go back and help Dr. Smurfgrin? After all, can
Indy HANdle Vader SOLO?
Bluefang: Hey! I was going to say that!
Tiggurf : Don't worry , you will...
(Act 2)
Natural Smurf, Tiggurf, and Bluefang are approaching the Club, deep
within the bowels of the Campus Smurfer. They arrive, and the first two
enter. Bluefang, however, is looking back for pursuers and makes a wrong
turn. He enters a large room with some interesting-looking chairs and
several cages of cute furry animals. In one of the chairs is Winston Smurf.
Bluefang: Whoops! I should have taken that left turn at Albequerque.
Where am I?
Winston : Room 101. By the way, what DOES two plus two equal?
Bluefang: Oh, rats!
Bluefang hastily goes across the hall. There is an open door, next to
a sign saying
UMass Science/Magic/Unclean/Reference Fiction Society
Smurfinda Rose-Smurfner, proprietor
Bluefang: THIS must be the place!
He goes through the door, and immediately recognizes that he is correct.
He has indeed entered UMSMURFS, a land of freedom and anarchy that occupies
about as much space as an extremely large walk-in closet. He pauses as
his pointed, blue ears adjust to the usual babble of voices, incomprehensible
save for random fragments:
Game-Master Smurf: Next time, Captain Amerismurf, come in an overcoat.
Dungeon Masmurf: What's so unreasonable about a plutonium golem?
Linusmurf (to a seated figure concealed by the three people on
his lap) : Stop fucking around and come!
Seated Figure Concealed By Three People On His Lap: You are crushing my
ding-dongs.
Bluefang: Hey, everybody! Guess what just happened!
Wild Smurf: We know, we know. Indy and Vader. Tiggurf and Natural Smurf
already filled us in. The question is, what should we do about it?
Smurfebus: Right. This calls for immediate discussion!
N. Smurf: Discussion? What about ACTION?
Smurfebus: Action? From the Club? Don't make me laugh!
Bluefang: But the Club is the only group that can handle the situation!
Can you imagine Whitsmore trying to deal with the Death Star?
Smurfebus: Well...
Bluefang: Come on, Smurfebus! You're our Vice-President. If you lead the
the way, it's likely... well, possible... would you believe
conceivable? that the club will follow. Someone has to find
out what's happening. After all, Indy can't HANdle Vader SOLO.
Bluefang regrets the words as soon as they are spoken, and frantically
looks around for a sound-proof barrier to dive behind. He is too late.
Smurfebus: Lalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalalala!
Everybody: Aaagh! Who made him LAugh?
The three main characters retreat into the hallway, hoping to escape
before a lynch mob can be organized. They run to the double doors at hall's
end and hide behind them just as the aforementioned lynch mob makes its
appearance in a crowd of blue figures, armed with boffers and clad in
indigo chainmail. Luckily they all run the other way. The trio climbs an
exotic-smelling staircase that leads to the outside.
Bluefang: I should have known better. UMSMURFS is made up of leaders,
not followers.
N. Smurf: Leaders?
Tiggurf : Leaders?
Bluefang: Okay, mabye not necessarily leaders. But not followers. Everybody
has their own ideas about the world, and that makes it hard to
get anything coherent accomplished. We are all individuals.
N. Smurf: I'm not.
Tiggurf : I'm not.
Bluefang: Present company excluded.
Hey! I know who might know what's going on! Let's ask Chausmurf!
N. Smurf: The Physics Major? How could we find him?
Bluefang: He makes his home high atop Orchard Mountain, in a brick fortress
that I'm familiar with. He is often busy with his studies, but
I'm sure he'll help us.
Tiggurf : Why?
Bluefang: 'Cause he's my roommate.
(Act 3)
The trail up Orchard Mountain is steep and narrow. As the smurfs ascend
the asphalt-ribboned slopes, Night draws her silky, diaphanous gown across
the sky, revealing the splendor of her sequined lingerie, and... Whoops!
Anyway, it gets dark and the stars come out. Suddenly the pathway is flooded
with light, its source the petrified trees that mark the way. Tiggurf is
startled, and even Bluefang is apprehensive (despite his familiarity with
this nightly phenomenon). Natural Smurf, however, is somewhat of a student
in the Dark Art of Physics herself...
Tiggurf : Gleep! Night-lights!
Bluefang: It's nothing to be concerned with, I guess. I've walked near them
every night for months, and nothing has happened...
Tiggurf : Nothing? What about your pointed ears and teeth?!
Bluefang: Nothing *bad*, I mean.
N. Smurf: Be of good cheer. I have read of such things in tomes of arcane
lore. It's merely a matter of alternating current...
Alternating? Harmonic motion! I have a physics test tomorrow!
Why am I on a silly quest when I should be studying?
Tiggurf : Hey... relax. Maybe Chausmurf can help you prepare for it. He is
a Physics Major, after all.
Bluefang: Yeah, cheer up! At least we aren't being attacked again.
Voice : Freeze, smurfball!
Tiggurf : Bets?
A gremlin runs across the path, carrying a saxaphone. Hot on its heels
is a grubby blue figure, wearing a sweatshirt and a shapeless hat. As
the pair disappear into the underbrush, the stencil on the back of the
sweatshirt, "PROPERTY OF HILL STREET STATIONHOUSE", is visible.
Bluefang: Hey, that was Sgt. Belkurf from "Hill Street Blues"!
N. Smurf: I don't watch TV much. Is he a hero, or a villian?
Bluefang: He's a cop, and most of the cops are alright sorts. Of course,
there's always-
Explosion:BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!
Tiggurf : Where'd the artillary come from?
Bluefang: Oh, no... it can't be Lieutenant-
A Sherman tank rumbles across the path and stops. A hatch opens, and
a blue, bespeckled head peers out, wearing a SWAT cap and smoking a pipe.
Howard : Howard Hunturf's the name, citizens. Tell me, have you seen a
perpetrator with a purloined saxophone recently?
Trio : He went *thataway*!
Howard : Thanks. Rest easy, we'll get him.
S. Tank : VROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOooooooooooooooooooooooom...
Bluefang: Let's get the smurf out of here!
The three smurfs run for a few minutes, then stop. There is no sign of
pursuit, so they laugh relievedly and set off aagin at the usual Smurfish
travelling pace, a relaxed skip. As they go, they sing an ancient skipping
song of their race:
Bluefang: La, la, la la la la, la la la la la...
N. Smurf: La, la, la la la la, la la la la la.
Tiggurf : La, la, la bounce bounce bounce, bounce bounce bounce la la...
Finally they reach the fabled Orchard Mountain Fortresses. Bluefang
guides them to the abode of Chausmurf.
Bluefang: I hope he's in.
Bluefang opens the door and is greeted by the sound of Radio Free Europe in
Swedish on a shortwave radio.
Bluefang: He's in.
Chausmurf:Hi, Bluefang. Aren't you back a bit early?
Bluefang: Great things are afoot. There is a fly in the ointment, a crack in
the dribble-glass, a Balrog in the woodpile. We thought perhaps you
could help.
Chausmurf:"We"?
N. Smurf: Hello, Chausmurf.
Tiggurf : Bounce bounce.
Chausmurf:Oh, it's you two. Come in out of the hall, I don't want the
neighbors to be startled. What's up?
The three inform Chausmurf of their experiences, and he begins to look
troubled. He goes to his shortwave set and tunes in to Radio Peking,
Radio Moscow, and the Voice of Amerismurf in sucession, making notes about
the static levels. Finally, he flips a coin five times. All tails.
Chausmurf:It is well that you brought this to my attention. You see,
the Worlds are about to end.
Tiggurf: You can tell that by flipping a silly coin?
Chausmurf:Do not doubt my power, ephermal one! Mine are the secrets of
creation, and destruction, and oscillating Slinkies!
Chausmurf tries to tower over Tiggurf, but such a thing is impossible
even for a Physics Major. However, he *does* manage to utilize localized
gravitic disturbances in order to make a gravity lens, thus making it
*appear* that he towers over Tiggurf. The strain is too great, however,
and a pile of junk on Bluefang's side of the room collapses into a quantum
black hole and dissappears.
Chausmurf:Hmm... I'll have to do that more often.
N. Smurf: Heed him, Tiggurf! It is whispered that he practices thermodynamics,
and his younger brother comprehends the Cube of Rubik.
Bluefang: So what's happening, roomie?
Chausmurf:You are of course all familiar with the theory of Pan-Dimensional
Subjective Multi-Person Solopsism?
Trio : Well...
Chausmurf:It suggests that we all create, not only our own realities, but those
of others as well. Every work of fiction, from the smallest white lie
to the longest epic, creates an entire universe with actual existence.
Trio : Oh, *that* theory!
Chausmurf:Unfortunately, the number of stories in this universe has grown so
large that there is little room for more. As new stories are created,
their attendant universes are starting to "squeeze" the universes
together, with results you have witnessed. If this continues for
more than 43 hours and 54 minutes from...NOW then all will be
reduced to formless chaos. Speaking of which, Bluefang, there
was some mail for you today.
Chausmurf hands Bluefang a large brown envelope. He opens it, sees the
contents, and grows upset.
Bluefang: Smurf it all to Hell! The Magazine of Fantasy and Smurfy Fiction
rejected another of my short stories. "We regret that the enclosed
material does not suit our needs at this time, nor indeed is it
ever likely to. Have you considered the advantages that a life
without hands might offer?" Maybe with a little rewriting...
Ooops! Bad idea, huh?
Chausmurf:Indeed. Since I see that you are in part responsible for this
crisis, it is appropriate that I have chosen you to help avert
it.
N. Smurf: Chosen him? When?
Chausmurf:Over six billion nanoseconds ago.
Tiggurf : What does he have to do? Can we help?
N. Smurf: I *do* have three exams tomorrow, you know...
Chausmurf:Indeed, he will need help. You must go into three distant
universes, and return with their most powerful items of magic
and technology. Bring them to me at that spatio-temporal
distortion you call the "club" within 43 hours, and I'll see
what I can do about preventing inter-universal Armageddon.
Tiggurf : How do *you* know all of *this*?
Chausmurf:I listen to "All Things Considered" on WFCR. Now go!
Bluefang: Where? How? What?
Chausmurf:"Where?" is three works of fiction. "How?" is this computer
terminal I've just cobbled together out of spare parts and an
empty oatmeal box. And as for "What?": You shall obtain for me
the One Program, the Lost Archive, and the Orb of Power, or the
multiverse is forfeit. Comprendez-vous?
Bluefang: Oui, je comprend. Shouldn't Natural Smurf handle this...makeshift
artifact instead of me? After all, she does know some Physics.
Chausmurf:But its design is already complete. All you have to do is press
the right buttons. And you *are* a COINS Major.
Bluefang: Shhhh! I'm posing as a poet. Are you two coming along?
Tiggurf : Are you, Natural?
N. Smurf: It is to save everything, after all. Of course I'll go along!
Tiggurf : Then count me in too! Sounds like fun!
Chausmurf:Here's a list of the essential commands. Good Luck, Roomie!
A private room won't help me if the world ends!
Bluefang: Okay. Lessee, "OLD,GETFUN/UN=7756631 <CR> GETFUN,MAN <CR>".
Nothing's happening.
Chausmurf:The system must be a little slow. OH! I almost forgot! When you use
the terminal, be careful not to lensnerize!
Bluefang: Huh? What does tha- <poof>
(Act 4)
Bluefang: -t mean? Whoa! Where am I? Are we? Are we me, or am I us?
Tiggurf : We're both here and boy is it weird.
N. Smurf: What does the terminal say?
Bluefang: "Manager of the Programs by Richard Fine". What a strange name.
Hardly sounds smurfish.
Tiggurf : I'll bet that he isn't a smurf at all! In fact, I'll bet that
he's a giant pink bipedal mammal!
N. Smurf: Why do you say that?
Tiggurf : Because this is his story, and here comes a giant pink bipedal
mammal in a business suit!
The smurfs are in the land of Whitmore, an area designed to repel a
full-scale air and ground assault. Administrator Jack DeNyfe turns a
corner and walks right by them. Ordinarily he would notice a trio of
meter-tall humanoids, but he's too busy gloating. (Yeah, I know Smurfs
aren't that tall. Gimme some artistic license, okay?)
J. DeNyfe:Hoo hoo hoo ha ha! Those pesky protesters won't get in this time!
The doors are locked, the windows can't open, and I've electrified
the handrails on the ramp!
Aide : But sir, the students need to get in to pay their lab fees.
J. DeNyfe:Tough. They should know better than to harbor boat-rockers.
The humans disappear around another corner. Looking around, the smurfs
see a padlocked set of glass doors, leading to a ramp crowded with students.
Bluefang: This story seems similar to "Manasmurf of the Programs" by Richard
Frums. If so, the heroes need to get in to demagnetize the Tape,
or all is lost. We'd better open the doors.
Tiggurf : Right!
Tiggurf bounces over to the padlocks (on the inside of the doors,
fortunately) and gives them a yank. Rattle. Bluefang adds his efforts.
Rattle, rattle. In the meantime, Natural Smurf has been working out some
calculations on an old bus schedule. She walks over to the door, chanting
an incantation:
N. Smurf:Newton, Einstein, rah rah rah! Joules and Newtons, sis boom bah!
Torque equals r X F equals I alpha.
Padlocks: Click.
The three smurfs run for cover as the doors swing open, releasing a
tsunami of students heading for the Bursar's Office, minor mysteries like
smurfs with Knock spells conveniently ignored. The trio end up inside
a large, seemingly bottomless trash can, holding onto ladders built into
the walls. A sign overhead says "Files of Oscar".
Bluefang: That was a pretty smurfy trick, Natural. Good work!
N. Smurf: It was nothing, really.
Bluefang: Oh, well, then forget it.
Tiggurf : But-
Bluefang: I said forget it.
N. Smurf: Shh! Someone's coming!
Sure enif, a backpack-wielding human falls into the can. Tiggurf, Natural
Smurf, and Bluefang all grab at the backpack as he falls.
Enif : Help! I'm getting trashed!
Bluefang: Relax, Tall One, we've got you.
Enif : IF THREESMURFS = TRUE
THEN
SANE := FALSE;
GIVEME (BACKPACK);
Bluefang: Not until you give us the One Ruling Tape.
Tiggurf : It's okay, I just found it. See?
Bluefang: Fangs for dropping in. Here's your backpack.
Enif : IF YOUHOLDING(BACKPACK) = FALSE AND HEHOLDING(BACKPACK) = FALSE
AND SHEHOLDING(BACKPACK) = FALSE
THEN
END.
Oscar : Burp.
Bluefang: We better split before the Noplops arrive. I guess if the Tape is
in another dimension, that's as good as it being demagnetized, right?
Someone hold the terminal... thanks, both of you... hmm, here goes.
"GETFUN,RAID <CR>". You know, if the other two places are as
easy as this one was, we ought to have no problems.
Tiggurf : I don't know. I've got a bad feeling about this... <poof>
(Act 4)
Suddenly, the smurfs find themselves floating in open space without
pressure suits. There are no planets nearby, although there *are* a few
basketball-sized chunks of stone floating around with "Souvenir of Alderran"
stamped on them. The terminal screen says:
*FATAL ERROR*
BAD DATA AT 121069
Rebel
Bluefang realizes he must work fast, and so starts programming in assembly
language:
LDA SMURFS
LDAGN LDX OXYGEN
TXA
DEX
JMP LDAGN
SMURFS .BYT 'BLUEFANG,NATURAL SMURF,TIGGURF'
OXYGEN .BYT $02
Bluefang: <gasp> <gasp> Whew! It's a good thing Chausmurf put a 6502
microprocessor into this terminal!
N. Smurf: What the smurf is going on? We almost died!
Tiggurf : Are you sure we didn't? Looks like we're amongst heavenly
bodies of some kind...
Bluefang: There was a bug in the program or some such. We've accidentally
been transported into some kind of outer-space story called
"Rebel". I advise we leave before my makeshift life-support
program breaks down.
N. Smurf: If you try to get to the next story again, won't we end up
back here?
Bluefang: I think there's something in Chausmurf's manual... Yes! An
emergency back-up command in case "GETFUN" is out of order.
Lessee, "OLD,RAIDERS/UN=BPYR000 <CR> ASCII <CR> PRINT,RAIDERS <CR>"
This had bet- <poof>
<paf>-er work, or... Oh. Are we there? The screen
says "Raiders of the Lost Archive (c)1981,Steve Berlin {"Devo"}".
What's a Devo?
Tiggurf : Was that "Devo" or "Dev0"?
Bluefang: Well... um..... never mind.
N. Smurf: Where are we? I get the impression that we're in a small part
of a larger system.
Bluefang: I recognize this! We're inside a subroutine! We seem to be in a
parameter storage area.
Tiggurf : Too cramped. Hardly room to bounce. Bounce, bounce, bou<crash>!
Ouch. See what I mean? I just tripped over this huge number!
Bluefang: Number? Like in usernumber?
Tiggurf : Yeah. Whoever left this lying around was pretty careless.
"A000000,PW=DISPLAY".
Bluefang: That must be it! The Lost Archive! Quick, load it into the
terminal.
N. Smurf: Hey, someone's banging on the roof!
Roof : <bang> <bang> Hey, let me in!
N. Smurf: Who's there?
Roof : Indiana Wogrin! Hurry!
Bluefang: READLN (OUTSIDE,WOGRIN);
WRITELN (INSIDE,WOGRIN);
I.Wogrin: Thanks. Say, aren't you a little short for an MIT stormtrooper?
N. Smurf: We aren't from MIT. Aren't you a little wet for a COINS prof?
I.Wogrin: My fault. I superglued myself to the side of this subroutine,
intending to follow Robert-Jon after he stole the Archive, but
I forgot that the subroutine would have to submerge in the stack
before it returned to the main program. Speaking of the Archive,
have you seen a large usernumber lying around anywhere?
N. Smurf: As a matter of fact...
Tiggurf : No.
I.Wogrin: What's that you're loading into that terminal?
Bluefang: ~~This isn't the number you're looking for.~~
I.Wogrin: That's not the number I'm looking for.
Bluefang: ~~We can go about our business.~~
I.Wogrin: You can go about your business.
Bluefang: ~~Have a nice day.~~
I.Wogrin: Have a nice day. See you later!
N. Smurf: How'd you do that?
Bluefang: False data. The False can have a strong effect on the complex-minded.
Garbage in, garbage out.
Tiggurf : If we take the Archive, won't that change the story?
Bluefang: I'm making a copy. We'll leave the original behind, but altered.
If this Robert-Jon tries to CATLIST it, he's in for a BIG surprise.
Toss it back over there, would you? Wow, we've got two out of
three! Maybe the multiverse will be saved after all.
N. Smurf: Of course, that means we'll still have to study for Finals...
Bluefang: It'll be worth it. Here we go! "OLD,GAMEBIN/UN=BPYR000 <CR>
GAMEBIN.DND <CR>" <poof>
(Act 5)
Enter terminal type:
----------------------------------------
A) Data general
B) ADM5
C) Infoton
D) Teleray
E) VT100
F) Hazeltine ESPRIT
G) Zenith ZT1
H) VT52
I) Apple
J) Cobbled together from an oatmeal box and spare parts
K) Other
-----------------------------------------
Terminal> J
Welcome to Dungeons 'N Dragons (tm) (v4.7)
For those who would'st tread within,
Visit ye graves of the best of your kin,
for fearsome battles did they fight,
and tho' they died, they did it right.
Orb finders are:
The Wizard
Bulletin board:
{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}
}}*{{
Gotcha!
I have implemented Dragon magazine's
Wandering Damage System on all levels
of Telengard, just to keep it interesting.
please report any particularly amusing
deaths to:
REDLUM on Mailer.
{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}}}*{{{{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}
The dungeons currently open are:
T Telengard
P Pit without a pony
G Depths of the GRC
D Dungeons of Despair
C Cavern
You're going to the Cavern, Sire, whether you
want to or not...
Please wait while the dungeon door is forced open.
Grunt! Ugh! Oof! Unh! Creeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeek!
Welcome to THE CAVERN!
<paf>
Tiggurf : Sure is dark here.
N. Smurf: Don't worry, here comes someone with a magic torch.
The Smurfs are in some sort of underground fortified defense installation.
They are in a 10' wide hallway. Approaching them is an armed human. He
is swathed in light, not only from the magic torch but also from his
intensely magical ring, dagger, boots, cloak, leather armor, and shield.
He is about 40' away.
Bluefang: Oh no! Look behind us! We have encountered a Level 27 BALROG!
Do we wish to Fight or Evade?
N. Smurf: Mabye it hasn't noticed us...
BALROG : Mmmmm... dessert! I love blueberries!
Tiggurf : Bets?
Bluefang: Now see here, Mr. BALROG! We're on a mission to sa-
-ve the...
Is it just me, or was there just some kind of temporal
discontinuity?
Tiggurf : Seems like it. The BALROG has disapeared and left behind
27 silver pieces. What about the guy with the torch?
Bluefang: He's over there looking at that book. I guess we're too small
to notice.
Human : No, but I'm too big to concern myself with blue KOBALDS. I wonder
what happens if I read this book, thusly...
VOICE : Your intelligence just went up 2 points.
Human : That's nice. I must be at the maximum of 20 by now. Here, KOBALDS,
read this. You might learn something.
N. Smurf: Thanks, I guess. Hey, he ran off! Let's follow him, he seems to
know his way around this way place.
The Smurfs catch up with the human, who is garbed as a wizard, while he
stops to study a fountain. Suddenly a Level 3.14 X 10^17 DEMON KING appears!
The human mutters a spell, and time starts to slow down. Then it returns
to normal!
DEMKING: Puny human. FRAZZ!!!
P. Human:Hey, where'd all my clothing go? At least I still have my Dagger-
DEMKING: (FRAZZ!!!)^2
P. Human: <snap> <crackle> <pop> <thud> <splortch>
VOICE : You have taken 18,971 points of damage.
Your life has been terminated.
DEMKING: Heh heh heh...
Bluefang: Excuse me, but have you seen an Orb lying about?
DEMKING: Heh heh- Smurfs!? On Level 20? Has Redlum been adding new
monsters again?
N. Smurf: We're just passing through.
DEMKING: NONE SHALL PASS.
Tiggurf: Don't worry, I'll handle this. Hey, you!
DEMKING: Out of my way, little Smurf.
Tiggurf: I'm afraid I've got to stop you from interfering.
DEMKING: You? A pitiful little Smurf is going to stop me, an enormous
heavy-duty DEMON KING? What are you armed with?
The DEMON KING picks up Tiggurf and holds him near his face, to examine
him closely.
Tiggurf: Guess.
DEMKING: Guess?
Tiggurf: Yes, go on, you'll never guess.
DEMKING: How about -- Hold it! *I* know what you're doing; I listened to
Fuligan's broadcasting of Hitch-Hiker's Guide to the Galaxy!
You're trying to get me to destroy myself with my own weapons.
Well it won't work!
Tiggurf: Actually, I just wanted to get close enough to do THIS!
Tiggurf bounces from the DEMON KING's hand to his shoulder. The DEMON
KING's knees collapse and he faints as Tiggurf bounds clear.
Bluefang: Buh.. wha.. yo.. gleep?
N. Smurf: How'd you *do* that, Tiggurf?
Tiggurf: Vulcan Smurf Pinch!
Bluefang: Vu.. arrgh. Look, behind the DEMON KING! I've discovered an
enormous eye-shaped gem! Could it be...
VOICE : You have discovered the ORB. Lotsa luck getting out with it...
N. Smurf: You ought to give Tiggurf the Orb for now. After all, he *did*
take care of the DEMON KING.
Bluefang: Fine. Hey, the Human dropped his Dagger! Looks more like a sword
from my point of view, though. Should I take it?
Tiggurf: Sure. Let's all take souvenirs! You have the Dagger, Natural has
the book, and I think I see something over here. Bounce, Bounce...
Bluefang and Natural Smurf follow the bouncing Tiggurf to a huge Throne,
jewel-encrusted and bearing many glyphs and sigils. He climbs onto the seat,
as do the other two.
Tiggurf: What a nice throne to stand on! I don't know if I should Pry off
some jewels, Read the runes, Sit down, or totally Ignore it. Hmm...
Bluefang: Wow! We're done! Three out of three! What could go wrong now?
Heh, heh...
N. Smurf: Do you hear the narrator laughing too?
Tiggurf : I think I'll Sit down.
VOICE : Zap!!! You have been Teleported!
<poof>
(Act 6)
<paf>
Our Triumphant Trio is in a land of cupcake hills and marshmallow skies.
In the distance, cotton-candy clouds shower the rock-candy mountains with
Mountain Dew. Surrounding the three is a small village composed of large
mushrooms.
Bluefang: At last, someplace normal-looking! It doesn't look like Amsmurfst,
but it sure looks like there are Smurfs living here!
Sure enough, a Smurf comes out of the nearest mushroom. He does a
double-take, then ducks back inside. He reappears with an elderly, bearded
Smurf wearing a white hat. It is Papa Smurf.
P. Smurf: And who might you smurfy folk be?
Bluefang: Good evening. We are but three smurfy travellers who have lost
our way. Where are we?
P. Smurf: You are in the land of Saturday Morning Animation. I am Papa Smurf.
N. Smurf: The famous TV star! Tell me, is Smurfette around? I'd like to
meet her.
P. Smurf: No, sadly. When I first saw you, in fact, I hoped that you might
be she, with a different hairstyle and color. Ah, well. She left
our smurfy little village nearly a year ago. What was it she said?
Ah, yes: "I'm sick of this dump! I want plotlines, dammit! And
emotions, and better drawing. Excitement and adventure and really
wild things!" She also mentioned something about a desire for
"huge tracts of land". So she hopped a bus for Poughkeepsie.
We got a postcard of some ancient palace or other, with the
note "Having a swelf time. Wish I could roast you on a spear
over the coals." It was signed "Kahvi".
Bluefang: I'd love to stay and chat, but we have to get going or the
Multiverse will be mush.
Thunder : Kabooooooooom!
Rain : Pitter patter splish splash
Thunder : Thumpa thumpa thumpa *MOW* *MOW*!
Rain : Splooosh!
Terminal: <snap> <crackle> <pop> <sizzle>
P. Smurf: Rain, rain, go away, come again another day.
Tiggurf: Hey, it worked!
Bluefang: Too late! All that Mountain Dew turned the oatmeal box to mush
and wrecked the circuits! We're doomed!
P. Smurf: Why?
N. Smurf: <Sounds indicating explanation of the situation>
P. Smurf: Oh. Stay smurfy, everything's copacetic. I'll use my magic
hat to send you back!
N. Smurf: Thanks, that would be nice.
Papa Smurf sends some of the other Smurfs to get supplies, meanwhile
seating himself in full lotus position. The assistants return laden with
Twinkies, which they place in a pentacle around the main characters.
Another lights some incense, while yet another brings Papa Smurf some
hash brownies.
Tiggurf : What's all this stuff for?
P. Smurf: Kid, there's only so much you can do with just a silly little
hat. All this stuff is to help. Quiet, now, I'm going to
start chanting. And no lensnerizing!
Bluefang: What's lensner-
N. Smurf: Shh, he's starting.
P. Smurf: La, la, la la la la, la la la-
Bluefang: <cough> sorry, it's the incense.
P. Smurf: -la la, la, la, la la la-
Bluefang: <sneeze>
<poof>
The Smurfs feel a terrible wrenching throughout their being, an effect not
entirely unlike that caused by certain transporter malfunctions. The scenery
wavers, reverses, and is replaced by similar, yet darker, scenery. The hills
are graham crackers, and while the clouds remain marshmallows, they now
rain molten chocolate. The mushroom-houses have become marshmallow
towers.
<paf>
Bluefang: Oh, yeah! *That's* what lensnerizing is!
N. Smurf: I've got a bad feeling about this...
Tiggurf: Looks harmless enough. Mmmmm! Graham crackers with melted
chocolate and marshmallow! Any place made out of S'mores
can't be all bad.
Bluefang: Did you say Graham cra- Oh no! I know this place! It's S'mor!
Other two:Huh?
Bluefang: Also known as Counter-Smurf! Haven't you ever looked through
the Unmentionable stacks at the Club? There are about
35 S'mor books by John Norsmurf there. They feature a
so called "hero" named-
Smarl : Smarl Cabot. Kajira canjellne!
Trio : Say what?
Smarl : I said "Kajira canjellne!" Don't you speak S'morean?
Tiggurf : We're just passing through...
Smarl : Oh, you must be from Smearth! I used to live there. Horrible
place, what with pollution, and equality, and the thwarting
and crippling of a Smurf's natural drives. Here on S'mor we
lead a natural, healthy life. For example, we seldom have cavities.
In part it is doubtless a matter of a plainer, simpler diet,
containing less sugar; in part, I suspect, the culture, too, may
have a role to play, as it is a culture in which undue chemical
stress, through guilt and worry, is not placed on the system
either in the prepubertal or pubertal years. S'morean youth,
like the youth of Smearth, encounter their difficulties in
growing up but the culture, or cultures, have not seen fit to
implicitly condition them into regarding the inevitable
consequences of maturation as either suspect, deplorable
or insidious. Why-
Bluefang: Sorry to interrupt your tedious pontificating, but we have to
go save the multiverse. Is there an interdimensional gate
somewhere nearby?
Smarl : But there is still the matter of the kajira!
Bluefang: Uh-oh...
N. Smurf: What's a kajira?
Smarl : A slave, of course! Such as yourself!
Trio : Smurf you, smurfhole.
Smarl : You know it in your bones, she-smurf. It's a natural law.
Now, gentlemen: when I said "kajira canjellne" earlier, I was
challenging the kajira's master to a duel of ownership. But
since you are not S'morean, and are therefore soft and puny,
I will treat with you on terms closer to your own level.
How much?
Trio : Die horribly in Pittsburgh!
Smarl : This is growing dull. By my codes, I am allowed to kill you.
I am instead prepared to offer you a golden tarsk, which I assure
you is an incredibly high offer, for the lovely kajira with the
charming blush. Now, who do I bargain with?
N. Smurf: I own myself. No sale!
Smarl : Then a duel it will have to be. You with the sword: prepare
yourself!
Bluefang: Who, me?
The warrior-smurf dons his helmet, which is cut and opened in such a way
as to suggest a "Y". He slips his shield on his arm, adjusting straps.
He slides the short blade at his left hip some inches from the sheath,, and
slips it back in, lifting and dropping it in the sheath. It is loose. He
takes his spear in his right hand. It has a long, heavy shaft, some two
inches in width, some four feet in length (long, for a Smurf); the head of
the weapon, including-
Bluefang: Get on with it!
Patience, patience...
-including its socket and penetrating rivets, is some twenty inches in
length; the killing edges of the blade begin about two inches from the
bottom of the socket, which reinforces the blade, tapering with the blade,
double-edged, to within eight inches of its point; the blade is bronze;
it is broad at the bottom, tapering to a point; given the stoutness-
Bluefang: Hell with it. Catch, Smarl!
Smarl : Hey, you can't throw a swo-
As the Dagger Bluefang found in the dungeon makes contact with Smarl's
purplish flesh, there is a strange "fwoomf" sort of noise as all of the
cells in Smarl's body simultaneously implode. He vanishes in a violet haze
as his thoroughly-described equipment falls to the ground. Bluefang walks
over to retrieve the Dagger.
Tiggurf : Good shot, Bluefang!
Bluefang: Hey, there's an inscription on the Dagger's hilt! It reads
"+1000 Magic Weapon -- Property of Cerebus". I guess he was
that dead human. Say, didn't Smarl look a little like Paul Kasmurf?
Tiggurf: The guy in the Vader suit? Yeah... So did the DEMON KING.
N. Smurf: Watch it, we've got company.
Sure enough, the trio find themselves encircled by a band of heavily-armed
counter-Smurfs. An aged and bearded Smurf wearing a black hat steps forward.
It is Papa Counter-Smurf.
P.C-Smurf:Klaatu barati nikti!
Bluefang: Sorry, I don't speak S'morean. Parlez-vous francais?
P.C-Smurf:No, but Smarl taught me English. That was a well-placed shot you
struck against him, but you *did* break the Warrior's Code.
"No fighting until both combatants have been described in
excrutiating detail." And what's with the kajira? I mean, she's
CLOTHED. No collar, no chain. And no highly philosophical
"a Smurfette's place is in the pleasure racks" soliloquy! What
are you trying to do, wreck our image?
N. Smurf: Yes! It's smurfist, sexist, misogynistic, sadistic, boring,
psychotic slime!
P.C-Smurf:Sells well, though. And what do you mean, sexist? Why, do you
realize that *any* female on this world, regardless of the
circumstances, can think up and reel off a full-page analysis
of why slavery is her natural state at the slightest provocation?
Now *that* shows intelligence!
Tiggurf: Not to change the subject or anything, but is that a magic hat?
P.C-Smurf:Why, yes, as a matter of fact.
Tiggurf: Let's make a deal. We'll stop violating the rules of your genre
if you send us back to our own world with your hat. You see,
we have to save the multiverse.
P.C-Smurf:By S'morean custom, we may not do such a thing without orders
from our Ubar, our warlord. You must either convince him, or
defeat him.
Ubar : And you shall do neither! I, Lord Swansmurf, shall kill you all!
The crowd suddenly parts to reveal the Ubar. He is a tall, grim Smurf,
mustached, with an odor of Beck's Dark Paga about him. He holds a two-handed
sword in each hand. He starts to laugh as he casually swings them around
in an intricate gleaming arc of death. Bluefang throws his Dagger: It is
easily knocked aside.
Tiggurf : Stay back!
Ubar : <sounds indicating profound unconcern>+<sounds resembling La Machine>
Tiggurf : Warned you...
Luger : *BANG!!!*
Ubar : <sounds indicating cessation of bodily functions>
Bluefang: <sounds indicating extreme shock>
Tiggurf : I took it from Indiana Wogrin while you were using the False on
him. Stop looking so shocked, it's only a story. You-
Tiggurf suddenly feels the gun growing warm, and immediately throws
it towards a tower. In mid-air it is struck by a pillar of flaming
chocolate that lances down from the sky.
P.C-Smurf:It is the Fudge Death. The Priest-Kings of S'mor use it to
eliminate any high-tech weapons and their users, in order that
we S'moreans not be tempted to abandon hack'n'slash warfare.
Anyway, I suppose I may as well help you now. Just stand there,
I'll be ready in a minute.
Papa Counter-Smurf sends some assistants off to gather supplies, and
sits down in full lotus position. One assistant sets up a curious
piece of apparatus that vaugely resembles a hang-glider, while others scratch
shallow furrows in the ground in the shape of a pentacle. From within one of
the towers there is the sound of a struggle.
Tiggurf: What's all this for?
P.C-Smurf:Kid, there's only so much you can do with a silly little hat. All
this is to help.
Bluefang: And what about that blond female Smurf wearing the bathrobe? Is
she to help, too?
Bathrobe? Hold it, she's supposed to be naked! Or at least wearing a
wet t-shirt that says "Whip me, beat me, make me write bad checks".
Bluefang: Looks like a bathrobe to me, Narrator. And a medallion that says
"Counter-Smurfette #1".
I'm starting to regret giving you people free will. Never mind, go on
with the story. Papa Counter-Smurf says:
P.C-Smurf:Hold it! I'm supposed to see Counter-Smurfette naked! What
happened to the "Blueberry Cheesecake" clause in my contract?
Get on with it, or I'll turn you into a "Smurf Trek" security guard.
You wouldn't last ten minutes. Now, Papa Counter-Smurf says:
P.C-Smurf:Of course she's to help! Where else would we get the blood to
fill the pentagram with?
CSmurfette:Forget it, Pops. I'm quitting this burg for a healthier planet.
This place is *dangerous*! I mean, aside from sleen, and Priest-
Kings, and wars, and the odd alien menace or two, there's also
the matter of hordes of armed warriors acting out adolescent
power-trip fantasies. What with Gargamel making two new
Smurfette-replicants for every one you guys whip to death,
it's no wonder that you have no respect for me, the original.
If you think I'm going to just climb into that rack...
Bluefang: Quick, let's escape while they're arguing!
N. Smurf: No way! We've got to take Counter-Smurfette with us! And
anyway, the terminal's broken, remember?
Tiggurf: Do you suppose you could fix it, Natural? After all, you do have
some knowledge of Physics and computers.
N. Smurf: Me? Of course not! I'm not a Physics Major, I'm not an electronics
wizard, I'm not even an engineer. I'm a Chemistry Major, and I'm
far from home on a hostile world, and if I *was* home I'd have to
study for three exams that I'd fail anyway, except that of course
why bother since everything is going to be destroyed, and I guess
I'm trying to say that I think you ought to know I'm feeling very
depressed...
There is the sound of AIM-65's tuning up. In the background, Papa
Counter-Smurf and Counter-Smurfette continue to argue.
CSmurfette:I'm sick of this dump! I want plotlines, dammit! And real
emotions, and better writing! Security, and companionship, and
an author who doesn't spend five paragraphs going over the
technical, socio-economic, artistic, and legal ramifications
of collar-design every time they're mentioned!
P.C-Smurf: But at least this is a steady job. You've got security!
CSmurfette:I'd like to see how secure *you'd* be if you went around
naked all the time! If it weren't for that guy Dent who popped
by recently and left his robe behind, I'd have had to come out
in a topless silk bikini. I'm gone, Pops, off to a place where
they know how to make good-looking garb. When's the next bus
for Poughkeepsie?
P.C-Smurf: You realize, of course, that you are completely helpless. We
command the weapons, and we have the numbers. Slavery is your
only choice.
CSmurfette:You can never enslave a free Smurf: you can only kill her.
P.C-Smurf: Alright, who's been letting her at the Heinlein books again?
Meanwhile...
Tiggurf: Those sound like AIM-65's. I thought I made them all stop.
Bluefang: You must have missed a few. The Narrator can't seriously be
thinking of having us sing another song, can he? I mean, it's
hardly an ideal situation.
N. Smurf: Uh-oh, I'm starting to get this urge to sing...
Other two:Resist, resist!
If you don't sing, you'll NEVER get out of this story...
Other two:Sing, sing!
N. Smurf: <to the tune of "If I only had a (fill in the blank)">
I could while away the hours \ Increasing "e" to powers
While studying at Bart's...
With the thoughts that would be mine\I could be another Einstein
If I only had the smarts...
Oh, I could tell you why \ The tachyon exceeds "c"
I could ace all of the finals easily
And I would not
Have to worry...
I could conjugate the Russian\Without the fear of blushin'
And analyze Descartes...
Integrals would be easy \ Though they might make others queasy
If I only had the smarts...
Trio : We're
Off to save the multiverse, this marvelous multiverse of ours;
We hear it's gone from from better to verse,
If ever a verse there was!
It's true we're stuck and out of luck, but don't lose pluck,
Cause what the fuck,
We've had to pull all-nighters before...
La la la la la la la, la la,
La la la la la la la!
We're off to save the multiverse,
This marvelous multiverse of ours!
N. Smurf: Okay, here's a thought: I have this book that increases
intelligence. I'll read it, and then maybe I'll be able to
fix the terminal. Then you two can create a diversion that
will allow Counter-Smurfette to get here, and we'll be off.
Sound good?
Other two:Yep.
N. Smurf: I hope this works! I open the book, start reading... hmm,
the letters appear to be moving... and-
VOICE : SORRY, YOUR INTELLIGENCE CAN'T GO ANY HIGHER THAN 20.
Tiggurf: Omigod! You're already at the maximum!
N. Smurf: But... but...
Bluefang: It's a matter of self-confidence, I guess. Here, look at
the terminal. Don't think of it as a chore: think of it as
an interesting puzzle to solve.
N. Smurf: But... hmm, if I put that there and switched those... what
would Chausmurf do? I need tools. I know! Quick, give me
a pencap! Thanks... lessee...
Bluefang: What should we do for a distraction?
Tiggurf : I think Counter-Smurfette is handling that. Look!
One henchsmurf jabs at Counter-Smurfette with his spear (and you
already KNOW what the spear looks like). She dodges the thrust, grabs the
haft, and pulls. The henchsmurf is pulled off-balance, and C.-Smurfette
now has a spear. The other smurfs recoil slightly, giving her room to
use the spear to vault over their heads into the pillar of soft chocolate
surrounding the luger. There is a mad scramble as the henchsmurfs jump in
after her. Papa Counter-Smurf, being somewhat wiser, decides to retreat
behind a building.
Bluefang: Forget the gun! Over here, Counter-Smurfette!
She emerges, her chocolate-stained robe pulled over her head to
protect her hair. She dashes to the trio.
Tiggurf: I'm Tiggurf, that's Bluefang, and she's Natural Smurf.
We're here to rescue you.
CSmurfette:Aren't you a little tall for a smurftrooper?
N. Smurf: It's fixed! Quickly, Bluefang, the others are getting free
of the fudge!
Bluefang: Right. "E,,RL <CR>"
Terminal: UMSMURFS ARE REPLACED.
UMSMURFS ARE LOCAL.
<poof>
(Act 7)
<paf>
The quartet appears in the hallway just outside of UMSMURFS. Chausmurf is
there, and the club is full of members, with some people from Mount
Smurfyoke and Smirf College thrown in for good measure. The four travellers
are momentarily deafened by the myriad conversations:
Jillsmurf:You die, she dies, everyone dies...
Clovismurf:I'm done with college! Wheeee!
Nyssmurf : Sorry about the ding-dongs.
J. Smurfner: I *could* make a remark right now...
P. Smurfy : But you *have* met me before.
Bingurf : Do *you* think Sweden has a class system?
TheWizmurf: Rainbow Ripple? Where?
Chausmurf: There you are, right on time. Got the stuff?
Bluefang: Yeah... how did you know when we would get back? And why are
all these people here? It must be midnight by now, and there's
usually only half as many...
Chausmurf:The timing was elementary. Time equals distance divided by rate.
As for the crowd, well, it seems there was just a club meeting.
You came in second for President in the election.
Bluefang: But I didn't know I was running...
Chausmurf:Must be why you came in second. The Orb, Tape, and Archive, please.
And the terminal.
N. Smurf: The terminal was damaged, and I had to repair it. I hope it still
does whatever it has to...
Chausmurf:Eh? Oh, I see. Don't worry. Good work, by the way.
N. Smurf: It was noth... no, it was something. Thank you!
Tiggurf: What are you waiting for? I mean, I know we still have plenty
of leeway time, but shouldn't you get it over with?
Chausmurf:I thought of some other items I might need, so I convinced
Smurv0 to go fetch them in Falcor. Here he comes.
Smurv0, an UMSMURFS member who is almost, but not *quite*, entirely unlike
Harlan Ellison, walks up. He is holding a burlap sack, and is followed by
three beings: a female Smurf, a humanoid moose holding a tophat, and a quasi-
humanoid flying squirrel wearing an old-style aviator's cap. Chausmurf reaches
into the sack and removes:
A watermelon;
An oscillation overthruster;
An ancient egyptian amulet;
A Grail;
A small red cylinder;
A deck of cards.
Bluefang: What's that watermelon doing there?
Chausmurf:I'll tell you later...
<sounds indicitive of a deck of cards being shuffled>
N. Smurf: We risk our lives for you, and you sit down and play solitaire?
Chausmurf:There is a purpose. Wait for it...
UMSMURFS: Blue king on the red queen.
Chausmurf:It never fails. I needed the help of all the people in the Club,
so what's the most effective way of attracting "helpful" people?
Playing solitaire.
Smool : So what's up?
Chausmurf:I've gathered you all here together because you all have the most
outrageous, that is to say fecund, um, let's just say "fertile"
imaginations I've seen. The idea of other worlds is nothing new to
you. With your help, we're going to save the worlds. All of them.
Dark Smurf:What do we do?
Chausmurf:Sit down, relax, and think about your favorite worlds. This will cause
a thickening in the fabric of space-time, allowing me to more readily
"re-weave" it. Just sit down in the hall, that's right...
Smurfinda:Building security had better not show up. They *hate* it when
people do this.
Chausmurf takes the terminal, loaded with the Lost Archive and the One Tape.
He hooks up the Grail to the back of it, and drops the Orb inside. As he
prepares to do likewise with the amulet, there is a screech of rocket-powered
roller skates and an extremely well-built dark-furred female rabbitoid skids
to a halt in front of him.
Bluefang: Cutey Bunny! I don't understand...
Chausmurf:Actually, only four or five people are going to understand this...
Bluefang: How'd you get here?
C. Bunny: The super let me in the back door. Now give me back my mystic
amulet, or-
Chausmurf:You're on, Bullwinkle!
Moose : Hey Rocky, watch me pull a rabbit out of my hat!
Squirrel: But that trick never works!
Moose : This time for sure!
Bullwinkle reaches into his tophat. However, instead of pulling a rabbit
*out* of the hat, he somehow manages to pull a very surprised Bunny *into*
the hat. Chausmurf takes the watermelon and shoves it in afterwards, so that
it blocks the opening.
Chausmurf:THAT'S what the watermelon is for! The Banzai Institute bred that
melon to withstand being dropped from an altitude of 30,000 feet,so
it ought to hold one super-powered rabbit for a while.
He places the amulet around the Orb. Finally he inserts the red cylinder
into the oscillation overthruster, and hooks the combination up to the output
jacks of the terminal. He inserts a fuse into the terminal, and lights it with
a lighter.
Chausmurf:Keep concentrating... cover your ears... five, four, three, two, one,
NOW!
<sounds indicating lack of sound>
Where's the KABOOM? I was expecting a Smurf-shattering KABOOM!
Hey, there's something strange about the Illudium Q-36 Explosive
Space Modulator...
Smurv0 : You mean the red thing? I wanted to explain to you about that.
There was this rabbit named Bugs...
Chausmurf:The reason doesn't matter. By gathering all these objects together,
I have accelerated the process of cross-dimensional squeezing to the
point where there are only minutes left. There's no time to get
another modulator...
Smurfland:What is it? Smurfland sells it for less!
Striding through the hallway door is Smurfland, aka Pizza-Smurf, resplendent
in his red, white and blue Dominoesmurf uniform. Chausmurf is not impressed.
Chausmurf:I really doubt it...
Smurfland:I sell anything! Try me.
Chausmurf:I need something that looks like this red cylinder that, when
detonated, can re-structure entire worlds.
Smurfland:Well, I have this small Genesis Torpedo...
Chausmurf:Hey, that might work! How much?
Smurfland:One large double-pineapple pizza.
Chausmurf:You *know* I don't have a-
Smurv0 reaches into his sack and produces a large double-pineapple pizza.
Smurv0 :I thought it might come in handy...
Chausmurf:Deal! Quick, give me the torpedo! There... this had better work...
five, four, three, two, one, <BOOOOOOOOOOM!>
There is a flash of light, and reality is suddenly on the blink. Walls
flow, features alter, names are changed to protect both innocent and guilty.
Nothing is stable, and it is evident that all will soon be reduced to Chaos.
The sign on the door, bearing the name of the Club, is a blur of shifting
letters. The third Being that Smurv0 brought steps forward.
Sign : UMass Science/Entertainment/Light Fiction Society
Chaucelf:Now comes the important part. There is one among us who is of many
worlds at once, who is so much a part of the fabric of reality that
her name remains the same from one dimension to another. Be seated,
and type in your thoughts. And your name. You shall be the
cornerstone upon which our new reality will be based.
Being : Okay, if you say so...
Input : Howdy
Output : Good Day! So Like How's It Goin Eh?
Input : Vast, I guess
Output : Like wow man, that's totally VAST!!!
Sign : UMass Squeezing and Fondling Society
Input : Fly, and be free!
Output : oooohhhh.... aaaaahhh!!!
Input : Fun
Output : Wheeeee!!!
Input : New Trend
Output : INCORRECT COMMAND.
Sign : UMass. Sexual Fantasy Society
Input : Blah
Output : CORRECT COMMAND.
Chaucer : It's settling down now... finish with your name.
Input : Eilonwy
Output : Does not compute! <fzzz> <snap> <crackle> <pop>
Chaucer : So much for *that* oatmeal box. It's done it's duty, though.
We're saved!
Everyone goes into the Club, now named the UMass. Science Fiction Society,
to celebrate. And there is much rejoicing.
UMSFS : Yay.........
Voice from the Doorway: So what? Big deal.
In the doorway is Paul Kasman, aka Paul Kas, revealed as a Red Lectroid
with a name-change. He is wearing a sheathed sword.
P.Kasman:What sort of ending is this? I thought this was supposed to be a Gor
story. Bring on the dancing slaves!
Dina :You are hardly in a position to issue orders, Mr. Kasman. Why don't
you just run along?
P.Kasman:Just like all the rest of them, trying to boss me around. Not *this*
time, sister. BY THE POWER OF GORSKULL!
Kas(man) draws his strangely-shaped glowing sword and holds it above his
head. A poorly-drawn backdrop of a crumbling castle appears behind him.
Clarinda: No drawn weapons in-
In a clap of thunder and a flash of lightening, Paul Kasman is transformed
into Gor author John Norman, aka He-NorMan. He sends a bolt of force from his
sword towards Clarinda, which narrowly misses her and incinerates a copy of
the Rice Purity Test.
UMSFS : Wakka Ding-Hoy!
As the battle cry rings out, an incredible variety of nasty pointed objects
fly through the air towards Norman. Sweeping his broadsword in a wide arc, he
manages to deflect most of them, his sword sparking with purple prose. And
those that are not deflected pass right through him!
Eric : Hold it! You can't abort to desolid this phase, you already attacked!
Norman : I am not bound by your game-rules. And I am not hurt by your weapons!
I am a creature of fantasy, impervious to the real world!
Cerebus: In that case... Shazam! <poof>
M. the B.:Matthew the Barbarian will handle this! Eat hot flaming earth-pig
wielded steel!
With a carefully-placed shot, Norman knocks off Matthew the Barbarian's
glasses. The brown/blue-eyed warrior charges out into the hall. Norman
closes the door.
Norman : Anyone else? If not, I think I'll lead you all in a re-creation of
one of my books. Ah, here's one on the Reference shelf: Imaginative
Sex. And I see you have pleasure racks stored here...
Redfang: Hang-gliders, actually.
Norman : No matter. Hmmm, how about the "I want an 'A', Professor" fantasy?
Scattered Voices: Yay!
Small Voice: Forget it, John.
Norman : Who?
The club members part, revealing a small blue figure clad in a chocolate-
stained robe with long sleeves.
Natural Log: Counter-Smurfette! You're still a Smurf!
CSmurfette:What else?
Chaucer : Whoops, I forgot to include her in the re-adjustment calculations...
Tigger : You know this person, C. S.?
CSmurfette:Long ago, before Mama Counter-Smurf left Papa Counter-Smurf for
another Smurfette, our community on S'mor found a human baby
lying in a field. His only clothing was a large pair of baby
shoes, so we named him "John Bigbooty"-
Norman : Bigboote'!
CSmurfette:-and raised him as one of our own. Unfortunately, S'morean boys
are raised to be psuedo-intellectual bullies, and as John grew
larger than any Smurf, he grew convinced that he was the master
of all. Eventually he became so obnoxious that Papa Smurf sent
him away with his magic hat.
Norman : I am no longer the John Bigboote' that you knew, Counter-Smurfette.
I am John Norman! The rich, the famous, the almighty! I HAVE
THE POWER!
CSmurfette:You don't know it all, John. I'd like to show you a trick that
Mother taught me when you weren't around...
<gesture implying "nothing up this sleeve">
<gesture implying "nothing up THIS sleeve">
<gesture into sleeve> By the way...
I'm glad you changed your name you *son of a bitch*!
Chocolate-covered luger: BANG!!!!!
Norman: Ack!
<sway to the left>
<sway to the right>
<sway forward>
<sway even more forward>
<THUD!>
UMSFS : Yay!!!!
Scattered voices: Awww...
Clarinda: No drawn weapons in the club!
UMSFS : <sounds indicitive of 21 Gor novels being thrown at the Head Librarian>
Clarinda: Okay, okay, maybe with an exception or two...
The door opens and Cerebus walks in.
Cerebus: Hi guys! Boy, was that embar- Hey! A Smurf! Kill it!
CSmurfette: Go ahead... make my day.
Cerebus: Ummm... that luger isn't real, is it?
CSmurfette:What do you think made that hole in Norman?
Cerebus: Ooops... As UMSFS Vice-President I'd like to announce that I'm
bringing a motion before the next Exec Board meeting to make all
armed female Smurfs Active Members for Life and would you *please*
stop pointing it at my waistline?
Norman : <groan>
Tigger : He's alive!
CSmurfette: My fault, I aimed for his heart rather than for a *vital* organ...
What should I aim for this time?
Norman : Don't kill me! I will do anything you want! Keep me! Keep me for
yourself! Keep me as your captive, your prisoner! Keep me as
anything you want! Am I not handsome? Could I not serve you?
Could I not please you? Do not kill me! I am willing even to be
your slave!
Natural Log: I think his mind's come undone.
Redfang : Nothing wrong with his memory, though. He just quoted page 17 of
"Slave Girl of Gor" flawlessly.
Natural Log: How is it that you know so much about Gor?
Redfang : Hey, what happened to innocent until proven guilty? Okay, so I read
two or three books. I was curious. And I'm thinking of writing
a parody of some kind...
CSmurfette: Do you realize what you're saying, John? I'm offering you a
clean death, befitting a free man.
Norman : I realize what I'm saying. Just now I became aware, as I had not
before, in my fear, of a strange emotional and physiological
response of which I was the victim moments before, when I begged
a mighty female to enslave me. My feelings had been flooded not
only with terror but, mixed with them, with the feelings of
terror, had been a strange, almost hysterical release of tension,
of bottled-up emotion. I had said things which I had never
dreamed could come from me, and they can not now be unsaid.
Of course I had been terrified, but I feel, in my deepest heart,
that I did not say what I have said merely to try and save my
life. Of course I would have said anything! But it is the way
I felt when I said it that now so shakes me, so profoundly, to
the quick. Mingled with the terror there was a release of
suppressed instincts, a joy in confession, a rapture of openness,
of authenticity and honesty. That I had been terrified, and
desperate to buy my life at any cost, had been the occasion, and
an adequate justification, of my utterance, but this terror could
not explain the wild, uncontrollable acknowledgement, the
shattering of inhibitions which I had felt, the torrential rapture,
the abandonment, the capitulation to myself and my instincts which
had, though blurred and mixed with the terror, so shaken and
thrilled me. The-
CSmurfette: Shut up, Bigbooty.
Bigbooty:
Redfang: <paging through book> Aww, she stopped him when he was only barely
half-finished!
CSmurfette: It seems I have a slave. Do I have a place to stay in the area?
Redfang: Well, Normy there ought to have quite a bit of money, but if you
want a cheap place there's always the Dead Mall in Hadley. Plenty
of empty stores, and the roof doesn't leak much.
AIM-65's start tuning up in the background.
Redfang: Uh-oh, time for the closing number! What are we going to sing about?
Natural Log: Well, I guess I was on a quest for self-confidence, and I found
it...
Tigger : And I wasn't on a quest for anything...
Redfang: And I wanted... what?
Don't you remember? "Why are there so many/tales about Confer..."
Redfang: Thanks, Narrator. You know, your voice seems familiar. Have I seen
you before?
Only when you shave...
Natural Log: The sun'll come out\Tomorrow!
Even though I've got three tests Tomorrow,\They'll be sun!
Just thinking about\Tomorrow,
Clears away the worries and the sorrow\ Till there's none!
Tomorrow! Tomorrow! Hey, now it's\Tomorrow!
It's only later today!
Tigger : The wonderful thing about Tiggers\Is Tiggers are wonderful chaps!
They're full of vim and of vigor\They love to leap in your laps!
They're bouncy, pouncy, happy, snappy, fun fun fun fun fun!
But the most wonderful thing about Tiggers is I'm the only one!
Redfang: Why are there so many
Tales about Cyber,
And those who on it reside?
Eating up P.R.U.s, some might call it abuse,
As for me I can't decide...
I've read them too many times to ignore them,
It's something that I want to do...
Finally I've found it, the Story Connection,
'Twixt myself (the Author) and you!
Fin
Afterword: apologies to Enif, Dev0, and Redlum, if such be needed.
Special prize to the person who correctly identifies all of my swipes from
other authors. Including the one from "I Am Curious - Yellow"