The Four Corners Hole [back from a brief hiatus] - Women's World (IV) Divergence (1057 hits)
Category: NoneLabels: fch
Rating: 1.21 on 70 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by Jack McCallum (View user info) at 2007-02-23 14:25:22 EST
Intro http://www.ubersite.com/m/74452
Pfc. Weyms http://www.ubersite.com/m/75620
theholetruth.com http://www.ubersite.com/m/75708
Emergence - http://www.ubersite.com/m/76672
Women's World (I) http://www.ubersite.com/m/77102
Divulgence - http://www.ubersite.com/m/78495
Women's World (II) http://www.ubersite.com/m/81641
Women's World (III) Conveyance http://www.ubersite.com/m/87157
Intelligence - http://www.ubersite.com/m/87268
The Four Corners Hole - Women's World (IV) Divergence
Engines roared in the near dark. Seph looked over her shoulder and grabbed the man by the hand. She did so without hesitation.
Instead of a pulse pistol the man had an old-fashioned ballistic weapon in a pouch strapped to his waist. He could have used it on her, but he had not even opened the cover over that antique weapon.
And the man seemed confused, lost. She had seen records of wild men attacking Body Armament patrols sweeping the countryside for them. The Parthos believed that women had evolved far beyond men, yet every once in a while a hoverjet patrol went missing.
One of Seph's old Gyno teachers had once told her, "Evolution has nothing to do with the current state of womanhood."
When Seph pressed her for an explanation the woman put on the stoic, apolitical face of all Gynos.
Seph was curious about men. She remembered her father's odors, and missed then, even the overwhelming scent of his sweat when he had been chopping wood all day or was returning from a hunt. She wanted to know about men. Not in the calculating way of the Parthos who would dissect live specimens and conduct horrid 'response threshold tests' in which wild men were tortured until they died, looking on the suffering with a cold eye that considered men too far removed from Parthos to be called human. No, Seph wanted to know about men because they were so much the same. They could differ in appearance and some biological structures were radically different, but they shared the same minds and hearts and history.
"Come," she said.
The man's hand was big, bigger even than Bava's, and there were rough patches on his fingers.
"What—"
"No time, Berger. There is no time." She could tell by the perplexed look on his face —not stupid animal confusion but astonished curiosity— that if she answered even one question now he would ask a thousand nore.
"Trust me," she said.
Berger looked down into her face and saw hope and fear and strength and curiosity. He saw that she had a cut on her lip and a bruise, as if she had been struck by someone. He also saw a cute little nose with freckles, and loose strands of dark brown hair hanging in front of her eyes. Those eyes were not brown, not gold, but somewhere in between.
If warmth has a color, Berger thought, I'm looking at it right now.
"Come now!" She pulled on his hand again.
Berger followed her to the truck.
Seph took the vehicle off the road, driving to a spot she knew well, a gully hiding a small cave carved by ancient waters. The man would be safe there.
Berger nearly soiled his drawers when the woman beside him switched off the headlights and increased their speed, traveling by moonlight across a landscape of gray and brown humps and flats.
It wasn't long before they were in the gully, and Seph drove the truck under an outcrop of rock. No one would see it unless they came down into the gully. Seph took Berger by the hand again and led him into the cave.
*
Grossman opened his eyes. His head was aching so bad he thought it would blow apart, and his leg was on fire.
He was in some kind of cell. There was only a little light seeping through a small window high in a steel door. He saw gray walls and the wooden pallet he was lying on. The far end of the pallet was splintered.
"Hey kid," Packard said.
Grossman turned and saw Packard leaning against the back wall of the cell. "Sarge!"
The engineer's uniform blouse was missing and his dog tags gleamed softly against his t-shirt. There were a few drops of blood on his shirt, probably from that split lip he was sporting.
Grossman looked down at his leg and saw the splint. Packard had broken a few slats out of the sleeping pallet and used strips of his shirt to secure them.
"I remember seeing women. They made Rita Hayworth look dumpy. I think I got a conclusion, Sarge."
Packard laughed, but he didn't correct the kid.
"Those broads opened that door and tossed us in here like yesterday's news. I shouted for a doctor but the blonde one, the pistol who looks like she eats kittens for kicks, just closed the door without a word. They're either gone, or ignoring us. I've been calling for you to get some decent treatment, hollering about the Geneva Convention, but no dice."
Grossman gestured at the splint. "Thanks, Sargeant.
Packard shrugged. "That blonde in charge sure looks like the kind of Aryan babe who'd make Hitler yodel, but even German POW camps give basic treatment to injured soldiers. Now the Japs, the Japs are cold buggers, but I never saw a Nip the whole time I was being rousted and taken here. Kid... I think this is something else. Maybe some super-secret Nazi base or something. Did you get an eyeful of those uniforms? When I asked one of them if they sprecken-zee doitch they looked at my like I was kooky. Your granddad was a German before they became krauts, so maybe you could talk to Stormtrooperettes when they come back."
Grossman nodded. He hadn't let many people know he could speak German. He didn't want the guys in his unit looking at him funny.
"Did you see those vehicles, Sarge?" Grossman shook his head, feeling wonder and fear. "Never seen anything like that before."
"We'll worry about that later," Packard said. He didn't want the kid getting too worked up, but from the moment he had seen the women in the body-hugging suits he had one thought running through his mind.
We aren't in the world any more.
There was a thud and a clang and the door swung open. Two of the babe soldiers were there, holding small weapons that looked like toys. They even had blinking lights on them.
There was something about these women that had been bugging the hell out of Packard, something beyond the monstrous oddness of where or when they were now. Looking closely at the faces of the women in the doorway, he finally figured it out.
They were perfect.
Sure, they were a smorgasbord of smoking hot dames, but the variety only extended to subtle variations. They all wore skullcaps as part of the suits that would get them arrested if they appeared on the street like that in Anytown, USA, but their eyebrows indicated they all had blonde or black or red hair, with no variation or blends of those colors. They all had plump lips, pert noses, and clear blue or green eyes, and aside from differences of a few inches in height they were all tall, and in impossibly perfect condition. They had flat stomachs and slender muscles and every one Pack had seen so far had tits like rocks. They weren't all Jane Russells, but there wasn't one of them showing a bit of droop, and there was no way they were wearing underwear beneath those suits. And they were all young. The oldest one Pack had seen, the tootsie with the haymaker, couldn't have been more than twenty-five.
Something was screwy.
Both weapons were pointed at Packard.
"Come with us," the first said.
"Now," the second said.
Packard realized they didn't have accents, either. Everyone he'd ever known had some kind of accent. These women spoke clearly, but there was no individuality in their speech.
What a world, Packard thought, following the women out of the cell.
*
"Tea leaves," Covington said. "I smell tea leaves, mum."
He opened his eyes. He wasn't a boy. This wasn't his bed. And his mother was long dead, which suited him fine. The war and his role in it would have been a horrible ordeal for the old dear.
He raised his head. In the near dark He could feel gauze bandages on his limbs and chest. There was a sheet draped over him and a pillow under his head.
Sitting in a chair and wearing in a garment that looked like a down quilt was a very small, very old woman. She looked like an ancient child. She was watching him, and by the low light of a small electric lamp he saw her smile.
Convington was going to start asking questions when the old woman held up a hand.
"Please," she said. Her voice was soft, the slightest of sounds, the whisper of a linen curtain rustling in a summer breeze. "We are exhausted from our endeavors. Your wounds should mend. You have two cups on the table beside you. Tea, and soup."
The old woman took a breath and said, "I am Lah."
Covington heard someone whisper, "How does he know what tea smells like?"
He turned his head, trying to ignore the growing discomfort he felt over the impropriety of lying shirtless in front of these women, and in the faint glow of the lamp he saw that he was in a large room, and seated on two long benches were more of the wizened old women. They weren't the lovelies he had seen earlier, but they weren't armed either, and there was something comforting about their gentle gaze.
"We cut you down and tended to your injuries," the old woman said. "You had many cuts and abrasions."
Covington hoisted himself up on one elbow and felt the pull of bandages around his groin. His heart lurched and he reached under the sheet to find that something was missing. His genitals were intact —thank you GOD!— but they were as naked as his clean-shaven face. His face burned red.
"We had to shear you," Lah said. "To clean and dress."
From the bench another old woman said, "You have a magnificent penis."
Covington grabbed the teacup and took a sip from it, hiding his mortification behind the simple white cup.
"Why is altered so?" another asked, pointing between his legs.
Such a kindly face, Covington thought, and yet she wants me to discuss—
"I told you," Lah said, "That was the result of a ritualistic rending of the flesh among an ancient religious sect."
What do I say, Covington thought, that I am the son of non-practicing Jews and that my father insisted I be circumcised and that it caused me no little hardship in school since most of my classmates were as intact as the day they were born?
"Where am I?"
Lah frowned. "You are in the world of the Body."
Covington had a hundred questions. Instead what came out was, "Why shouldn't I know what tea smells like?"
"The Obliteration," a voice from the benches said.
Covington set down the tea and sniffed the soup. It was a meaty broth. He took a sip. Almost like oxtail soup. Marvelous.
"Most population centers in the Eastern hemisphere were wiped out long before we were born," Lah said. "When men ran the world there was always war. The last was the greatest. Old records tell us that tea was one of many things associated with the enemy of that time, and it fell out of favor. Parthos partake of no stimulants, since their body chemistry doesn't require any assistance. Halfsies and wild men prefer coffee. We Gynos are a gentler kind. We like tea. We grow it here in our conservatory."
"Are you going to report me to the authorities?" Covington asked.
Lah looked toward the benches, her eyes moving from one face to another.
"They have come and gone. We sent them on their way," Lah said. Then she added in a sad tone, "Of late, we have begun to part ways with the Body."
Covington hadn't the slightest bloody idea what that meant.
*
Jereboah Long was looking up at the moon.
In the chill night air destroyed and intact B-17 engines ticked and popped as they cooled down. The fires had died out.
Behind the plane was a long trail in the earth. The trail was littered with pieces of aluminum and steel. The Tough Cookie had come down hard upon a plain of soil, sheared off her landing gear, and slid to a stop.
Long had climbed out of the plane and thanked the Lord God for deliverance. His left ankle had shattered. He stood on his twisted foot and felt the shards of bone grinding together and he knew that God was telling him he was alive, delivering the message through blissful suffering.
Now Long awaited instruction.
"Thou hast a mission for me," he said to the moon. "Let me serve you, Lord God, and let me serve Your chosen people, the people of the United States of America."
Long watched the moon. He saluted and then crossed himself, his eyes glittering with madness.
*
Berger heard his Gramma's voice in the cave. The girl Seph must not have heard a thing. She was playing with some slender electric gizmo she'd pulled out of one pants pocket.
I'm headed for the funny farm, he thought.
"Johnny," Gramma said. She didn't sound like Gramma. She sounded desperate. Afraid. "No time. Hear me. Spirit comin'. Don't fight. Let sprit talk through you, and live, Johnny."
Seph was using her link to access the Body database. She could already see that Bava had called her a number of times. She tried to check the deployment of search teams in the area but her access was denied, so she took a quick look at the data stream from the Four Corners Hole. Something was happening back there. The hole was beginning to vent trace gasses.
She was about to shut off her link and remove the power cell so she could not be tracked when the man called John Berger stiffened beside her.
He looked at her as if about to say something, and then his eyes rolled back to show only the whites.
Berger felt as if he were far away, watching himself, a tiny player on a distant stage. He knew that he could have fought whatever was happening, but he took Gramma's advice.
He tried to calm himself, and watch and listen.
Seph saw Berger's mouth drop open, and then a deep voice thick with power filled the cave. Seph grabbed her link and hit the record key.
"I am Estay Hashkett," the voice from Berger said. "I am Mah-ih. I am Coyote. I am spirit. I am the hole in the ground."
User Reviews
Submitted by haikumikoo (user info) at 2008-05-01 16:19:21 EDT (#)
Ranking: -1
Stop linking to yourself all the time, Jesus.
Submitted by zwerg (user info) at 2007-05-18 10:10:14 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Write another
Submitted by Cyrus (user info) at 2007-02-26 15:32:40 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Interesting, I'll have to read the previous files.
Submitted by lungfish (user info) at 2007-02-24 23:29:41 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Where's FG?
Submitted by Bubba2341 (user info) at 2007-02-24 19:00:55 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Dumbass below.
Submitted by G-prime (user info) at 2007-02-24 18:49:02 EST (#)
Ranking: -2
Keep working on that hiatus.
Submitted by DirtyHarry (user info) at 2007-02-24 15:52:07 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
holy schnikeys, does this series kick ass. So many possibilities, keep it up.
Submitted by c1ndy (user info) at 2007-02-24 12:12:36 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by lungfish (user info) at 2007-02-24 10:43:25 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
I still haven't read it. Got distracted.
Submitted by Bubba2341 (user info) at 2007-02-24 05:56:28 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Ten months qualifies as a 'brief hiatus' only on the geological time scale...
Submitted by JoeyG (user info) at 2007-02-24 04:56:37 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by lungfish (user info) at 2007-02-23 19:36:25 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
ps, I didn't read it. Will do so tonight after a few drinks.
Submitted by lungfish (user info) at 2007-02-23 19:35:26 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by TheUniter (user info) at 2007-02-23 19:15:26 EST (#)
Ranking: 1
.
Submitted by TheUniter (user info) at 2007-02-23 19:15:11 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by Bubba2341 (user info) at 2007-02-23 17:49:39 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by Method (user info) at 2007-02-23 17:45:39 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
nice
Submitted by Adamdidit2u (user info) at 2007-02-23 17:20:21 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Your opinion is very important to us. Since you have either submitted it in all capital letters or with reaaaaaaallllly long words, we will consider it to be that much more important. We would like to write you a personalized message here, but since you haven't figured out how to turn off the caps lock key or use the space bar, chances are you never learned to read anyway.
Submitted by Jack_McCallum (user info) at 2007-02-23 16:21:41 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Funny how you all call JonnyX obessive...
Submitted by Zebra (user info) at 2007-02-23 16:12:11 EST (#)
Ranking: 1
jack rendered embarrassed: http://fagbelow.com/
Submitted by Jack_McCallum (user info) at 2007-02-23 16:05:58 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Zebra rendered obsolete.
http://www.ubersite.com/m/99053
Submitted by Zebra (user info) at 2007-02-23 16:03:56 EST (#)
Ranking: 1
Submitted by Jack_McCallum (user info) at 2007-02-22 16:08:51 (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by Method (user info) at 2007-02-22 16:03:01 (#)
Ranking: 0
I'D LIKE TO KNOW WHAT USER NAME JAYPIG IS USING
--
Well KindaNews took Zebra, so scratch that off the list...
i say old egg i rather liked your previous conclusion what say we attend to previous theories and call you mistaken or stupid or some such denigration?
Submitted by Jack_McCallum (user info) at 2007-02-23 16:03:42 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by DesolateMisanthrope (user info) at 2007-02-23 16:02:19 (#)
Ranking: -2
condition 39 chapter 631 section 23 code a > pertaining to those who spend more than 60% of their time masturbating. you are hereby excluded.
--
What the fuck ever, man. I'm gonna go to lunch.
Submitted by DesolateMisanthrope (user info) at 2007-02-23 16:02:19 EST (#)
Ranking: -2
condition 39 chapter 631 section 23 code a > pertaining to those who spend more than 60% of their time masturbating. you are hereby excluded.
Submitted by Shlongy (user info) at 2007-02-23 15:59:50 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
That last comment was directed at the friendless asshole with the long, and ridiculously stupid, Uber name.
Submitted by Shlongy (user info) at 2007-02-23 15:58:54 EST (#)
Ranking: -2
You can hardly beat your own meat, dickhead.
Try shutting the fuck up for a month or so.
Submitted by Jack_McCallum (user info) at 2007-02-23 15:58:17 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Why don't you inject another shot of cocaine directly into your prick and let me the fuck alone.
Submitted by DesolateMisanthrope (user info) at 2007-02-23 15:55:54 EST (#)
Ranking: -2
haha. Do you wish to post a picture of yourself holding a sign; Hello, well, my name is JackMcluum the insatiable twit who pours his heart out on ubersite.
I can grab my little digital camera, take a picture; This is DesolateMisanthrope from ubersite..
post it here and let you know that I would beat the bricks off you and then put you six feet under. Luckily enough (for you), this is ubersite and we are connected through LAN and I have changed enough, that I wouldnt get too caught up over an aspiring author.
Submitted by Jack_McCallum (user info) at 2007-02-23 15:49:04 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by Zebra (user info) at 2007-02-23 15:47:11 (#)
Ranking: 1
ahahahaha
even a +1 brings insult from young nancy_mccallum, as her panties were bunched so tightly from days
gone by; their bitterness rendered them but a shadow of their former selves, a mere angry thong, vibrating, incensed against the tainted memory of auto +2s.
--
Yep, that's our friend Jainey all right. The purple, meandering prose, the beating of a dead horse, the desperate attempt to appear cool. Give it up, dude.
Submitted by Jack_McCallum (user info) at 2007-02-23 15:47:41 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by DesolateMisanthrope (user info) at 2007-02-23 15:41:32 (#)
Ranking: -2
nope. In fact my hair is falling out as we speak, >> http://www.ubersite.com/m/98869
--
You posted the wrong link, there pal.
http://www.ubersite.com/m/11094
Submitted by Zebra (user info) at 2007-02-23 15:47:11 EST (#)
Ranking: 1
ahahahaha
even a +1 brings insult from young nancy_mccallum, as her panties were bunched so tightly from days
gone by; their bitterness rendered them but a shadow of their former selves, a mere angry thong, vibrating, incensed against the tainted memory of auto +2s.
Submitted by DesolateMisanthrope (user info) at 2007-02-23 15:41:32 EST (#)
Ranking: -2
nope. In fact my hair is falling out as we speak, >> http://www.ubersite.com/m/98869
Submitted by Jack_McCallum (user info) at 2007-02-23 15:39:02 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by Zebra (user info) at 2007-02-23 15:33:58 (#)
Ranking: 1
Aside from a wince-inducing metaphor or two...
--
Zebra rendered obsolete.
http://www.ubersite.com/m/99053
Submitted by Crystle (user info) at 2007-02-23 15:37:49 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
hey - can I do the tatoo work on Shlongy?
Yeah, I'm bored too, but about to go into a 2.5 hr conf. call where I have little input and glean even less usefull information.
Your pichtshure haxxxxing skilz are pwsme. (or is that possum?)
Submitted by Jack_McCallum (user info) at 2007-02-23 15:37:14 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by DesolateMisanthrope (user info) at 2007-02-23 15:29:43 (#)
Ranking: -2
anger, anger, you fucking bumblebee. give me your address so I can send a complementary bottle of prozac via ups> overnight early am.
--
I bet you've got one of those overgrown greasy combed straight haircuts that hangs off your head like a fuckin sheet and you think it makes you look moody and dangerous and cool when it actually makes you look like what Hitler would have looked like if he had never joined the Army and learned discipline and gained perverse insights into the Jews and even though you don't have half the artistic talent Adolf had the insanity is still there, full on 100%.
Oh yes it is.
Submitted by Zebra (user info) at 2007-02-23 15:33:58 EST (#)
Ranking: 1
Aside from a wince-inducing metaphor or two, this was decent, if a bit on the dull side.
I didn't read the links, but perhaps I wandered into a slow point in the story.
The dialogue sounded a bit forced here and there, also.
I don't care as much for your prose as some of the youngsters here because I've read it all before, and more expertly done.
It feels as if you are imitating the pulp as opposed to beating it yourself.
But decent work, nonetheless.
Now I'll beat it.
just my opinion old egg chip chip cheerio and all that rubbish
Submitted by Jack_McCallum (user info) at 2007-02-23 15:33:06 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
SHLONGY--
Submitted by Jack_McCallum (user info) at 2007-02-23 14:28:32 (#)
Ranking: 0
You know what really blows? When I write Packard's parts now, in my mind I see Shlongy.
Honestly, if this was a screenplay, he'd be perfect. Give him a buzzcut and a few tattos and there you go.
Submitted by Shlongy (user info) at 2007-02-23 15:32:11 EST (#)
Ranking: -2
What could possibly make you think that Shlongy is bitter about ANYTHING?
Actually, I'm a bit bitter that because of my fractured shoulder, I'll be missing a couple of PGA and Senior PGA Tour Media Day golf outings in March but I'm certainly not bitter about anything Uber related.
At least since squattail stopped stalking me, anyway.
Submitted by JonnyX (user info) at 2007-02-23 15:31:12 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by DesolateMisanthrope (user info) at 2007-02-23 15:29:43 (#)
Ranking: -2
anger, anger, you fucking bumblebee. give me your address so I can send a complementary bottle of prozac via ups> overnight early am.
-----
heh, nobody's even listening to you, TABARNAK!
Submitted by beeltea (user info) at 2007-02-23 15:30:48 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
CHRIST I'm bored.
----
Start another Nerd-fight!
----
How about I rip your nuts off and stuff them down your fuckin throat?
----
YES!!!!!
Submitted by DesolateMisanthrope (user info) at 2007-02-23 15:29:43 EST (#)
Ranking: -2
anger, anger, you fucking bumblebee. give me your address so I can send a complementary bottle of prozac via ups> overnight early am.
Submitted by Jack_McCallum (user info) at 2007-02-23 15:25:44 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by DesolateMisanthrope (user info) at 2007-02-23 15:20:47 (#)
Ranking: -2
if you want to forfeit the prize just let me know, in your opinion, who do you think is most qualified. (its not me :()
--
How about I rip your nuts off and stuff them down your fuckin throat?
Submitted by beeltea (user info) at 2007-02-23 15:22:39 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
CHRIST I'm bored.
----
Start another Nerd-fight!
Submitted by DesolateMisanthrope (user info) at 2007-02-23 15:20:47 EST (#)
Ranking: -2
if you want to forfeit the prize just let me know, in your opinion, who do you think is most qualified. (its not me :()
Submitted by DesolateMisanthrope (user info) at 2007-02-23 15:19:23 EST (#)
Ranking: -2
your congratulatory site that is.
Submitted by Jack_McCallum (user info) at 2007-02-23 15:09:44 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
And I have some ultra-crucial job-performance review thing right near the end of the day. On a Friday.
Could I possibly give LESS of a shit?
I guess I have to try and look interested about all that horseshit though.
Here's an idea. Instead of endlessly talking about how I did the job and how I do the job and how I will do the job why don't you just let me DO THE FUCKING JOB!
Submitted by Jack_McCallum (user info) at 2007-02-23 15:06:59 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
CHRIST I'm bored.
Submitted by Jack_McCallum (user info) at 2007-02-23 15:06:43 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Oh, Crystle, that pic is taken from the net. It was a daytime pic. I took out a little color and darkened it so it would look like night. Or night-ish.
Submitted by Jack_McCallum (user info) at 2007-02-23 15:05:24 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
...Seph took Berger by the hand again and led him into the cave...
--
Oh YEAH. Like they aren't going to, you know, DO it.
Submitted by Jack_McCallum (user info) at 2007-02-23 15:04:38 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by Crystle (user info) at 2007-02-23 14:59:27 (#)
Ranking: 2
well, at least its not SO bad now -
--
Don't worry about it.
And don't worry about Shlongy. He's just bitter and power-mad because he's so tiny.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Napoleon_complex
Submitted by Jack_McCallum (user info) at 2007-02-23 15:03:12 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by sicosemen (user info) at 2007-02-23 14:59:08 (#)
Ranking: 2
http://www.ubersite.com/m/92219
I really liked that story.
And you're still a hack.
That story was probably the best thing you've ever written.
Do you want so share a shrimp cocktail?
--
Me too.
Yep.
I disagree.
Okay.
Submitted by JonnyX (user info) at 2007-02-23 15:01:01 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
ALLAHTOWN MOTHAFOCKA DO YOU SPEAK IT????
Submitted by Crystle (user info) at 2007-02-23 15:00:17 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Blame Shlongy's disenchantment for the rest.
Submitted by Jack_McCallum (user info) at 2007-02-23 14:59:47 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by Shlongy (user info) at 2007-02-23 14:56:19 (#)
Ranking: -2
It's going to take a lot more than this to receive forgiveness for your "Uber sins" from Shlongy.
--
Answer F.
Submitted by Crystle (user info) at 2007-02-23 14:59:27 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
well, at least its not SO bad now
Submitted by sicosemen (user info) at 2007-02-23 14:59:08 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
http://www.ubersite.com/m/92219
I really liked that story.
And you're still a hack.
That story was probably the best thing you've ever written.
Do you want so share a shrimp cocktail?
Submitted by Jack_McCallum (user info) at 2007-02-23 14:58:48 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by DesolateMisanthrope (user info) at 2007-02-23 14:39:42 (#)
Ranking: -1
you never gave me an answer.
--
Choose One:
A) The Heimlich maneuver
B) 47
C) Yes, it's very safe. It's so safe you wouldn't believe it.
D) An African swallow or a European swallow?
E) I'm Spartacus!
F) Blow me
G) What's the question? What the FUCK are you talking about?
Submitted by Crystle (user info) at 2007-02-23 14:58:29 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
sorry
Submitted by Crystle (user info) at 2007-02-23 14:58:10 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
damn noobs broke my default rating
Submitted by Crystle (user info) at 2007-02-23 14:57:53 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
D"OH!
Submitted by Shlongy (user info) at 2007-02-23 14:56:19 EST (#)
Ranking: -2
It's going to take a lot more than this to receive forgiveness for your "Uber sins" from Shlongy.
Submitted by HadToBeDone (user info) at 2007-02-23 14:52:58 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Bout fucking time you go back to actually writing instead of the heat-seeking political bullshit.
Submitted by beeltea (user info) at 2007-02-23 14:52:44 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
there's the jack we know and love.
Submitted by Crystle (user info) at 2007-02-23 14:51:56 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
stellar, again.
I love tea.
Beautiful picture.
MORE MORE MORE More
Submitted by messmind (user info) at 2007-02-23 14:48:45 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by kaos-king (user info) at 2007-02-23 14:46:36 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
I'll be perfectly honest - I didn't read this.
I'm straight rating the poster and not the post.
Jack, have you won that UM nonsense yet???
Submitted by DesolateMisanthrope (user info) at 2007-02-23 14:39:42 EST (#)
Ranking: -1
you never gave me an answer.
Submitted by Jack_McCallum (user info) at 2007-02-23 14:28:32 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
You know what really blows? When I write Packard's parts now, in my mind I see Shlongy.
Honestly, if this was a screenplay, he'd be perfect. Give him a buzzcut and a few tattos and there you go.
Submitted by Axolotl (user info) at 2007-02-23 14:27:45 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by BLITZKREIG_BOB (user info) at 2007-02-23 14:26:18 (#)
Ranking: 2
I voted for entry #2. <3
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I spruced it up a bit, ie Martha Stewart. You can never go wrong with ascii hearts. Nuh uh.
Submitted by BLITZKREIG_BOB (user info) at 2007-02-23 14:26:18 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
I vote for entry #2.