From: rip@sequent.com (Paul T Taylor)
Subject: Re: An Announcement and Re: Food fight
Organization: Sequent Computer Systems Inc.
Date: Wed, 9 Sep 92 02:06:42 GMT

In article <1992Sep8.235046.26680@cs.aukuni.ac.nz> cwes1@cs.aukuni.ac.nz (Clare West) writes:
>First an announcement:

**somestuff deleted**

>Sorry folks, you know I hate to leave you like this but I must be
>strong. I'll try and keep up with my email. I know you will welcome
>all the newbies in the style to which they should become accustomed,
>
>*HUGS to all*

Sorry to see you go, even if just for a few weeks. :-(
                                                    `
>>
>>Ye gods, I'm away for a while and what happens?   I come back into the
>>middle of a food fight !!!!
>
>Welcome back Frank! Good to see you again. We missed ya.
>
>Food Fight?  What Food fight? I don't see no Food Fight. Oh you mean
>that little scuffle over there - that isn't a food fight, now in the
>old days we really knew how to throw a food fight then, naked men
>dancing on the tables, the works, try to tell this to young folk these
>days and *do* they believe you? NO they don't. TV's rotted their minds
>that's what I say.

Thank you Clare!  I was looking for the best time to jump into this
little fracas....  Now, as a veteran of the *old* FoodFightI, I just
want to show you *recruits* how a former *Marine* throws a FoodFight!

Brewhahahahaahahahahahaahahaha!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

ripomaniac

--------------------------------------------------------------------

*BeepBeep* *BeepBeep*

"Ok, back it up!  Slowly now!"

A *huge* truck backs up to the loading dock behind the ARCafe.

A short, balding, fat man jumps out of the truck.  A big, chewed up
cigar hangs out of his mouth, rivulets of tobacco juice and spittle
run out of the side of his mouth.

He walks up to the young man counting chocolate bars and marshmallows,
gotta make sure there is enough for the food fight going on inside.
Mixed in with this more  'normal' fare, is the assorted custom made
weapon, the owners name's stenciled on the sides of the boxes...

"Hey, you!" shouts the driver, "I gotta 'livery here for a....Rip?
Where you want it?"

"What?  Did you say Rip?!"

"Yeah, 'smatter o' factoid I did..."

"Oh shit!  I wasn't expecting it this early!  Hang on, I gotta make a
quick call...."

"Well, hurry up, I got lotsa other 'liveries ta make..."

The young man runs back into the office.  He frantically searches for
the number he had received to call when this shipment arrives.

"Damnit!  Where is that number?!"  Panic is starting to settle in,
he knows all to well the results of pissing off Mr. Rip.  "Ah, here
we go... 3...1...3...2...4...6...9."

*ringngngngngng* *ringngngngngngng*

'Yes?'

"Hello?  Mr. Rip?"

'Yep, that my name, don't wear it out...'

"Huh, yeah.  Your shipment just showed up."

'AWRIGHT!  Tell the driver to hang on and I'll make worth his
while...!'

"Sure...."

15 minutes later, a huge black car whips into the load dock, all 4
tires *SCREECHING* wildly as the brakes are jammed on.  Rip jumps out
of the convertible, leaping over the door.  (Ahhhh... everyone should
own a Websters...)  He runs up to the driver...

'Open the truck!  Open the truck!'

"Ok, ok!  Keep yer shorts on!  SHEEESH!"  He turns to the kid who is
know holding the clip board, "Are *all* these people like this?"

The kid gives the guy a shrug and a smile that says "Hey, what can I
say?"

The driver wipes his chin with his sleeve and slowly walks around to
the back of the truck.  He pulls out a key, inserts it into the lock,
and....nothing happens.

"Oops, wrong key..."

He pulls out another key and opens the lock.  Throwing up the door he
steps back.  The inside of the trailer is near pitch black.  What
little light there is outlines a large, dark blob.  When the trailer
lights are turned on the blob turns into a tarp covering something,
something big!

'Oh goodie, goodie, goodie!'  Rip says, jumping up and down with
delight, clapping his hands together...

"Keerist..." the driver mumbles under his breath.

Together the driver and Rip roll the tarp covered object out of the
truck.

'Careful!  If this thing goes off out here, there is no telling
*what* might happen!'

"I don't mean to be nosey," the driver says, "but just what the hell
*is* this thing?"

'Oh, that's a secret!  *heehee!*  It's just alittle something I
ordered for FoodFightII(tina).'

"For what?"

'Oh, just go stick your head in the Cafeteria.' Rip says, giving the
kid a sly wink.

Two minutes later the driver comes back, chocolate syrup, marshmallow
creme, assorted nuts, and a cherry on his head.

"Man!  I see what you mean!"

'This little baby will strike terror into everyone in there, you
wanna stick around and give me a hand?'

A big grin slowly spreads across the driver's face.  Throwing down
his cigar, he announces, "You betcha!"

After several hours of work, the three men have the contraption all
put together and ready to roll...


Meanwhile, inside the Cafe, FoodFightII(there should only have been
one!  NOT!) is raging to fever pitch.  The pies are aflyin', people
are slipping around on chocolate syrup, slurping sounds are coming
from under a few tables, and in some of the more out-of-the-way areas,
if you know what I mean....*wink* *wink* *nudge* *nudge*

Suddenly a terrible rumbling noise can be heard coming from the
kitchen area.  With a *CRASH* the East wall of the Cafe gives way.
All action in the Cafeteria stops.  Chocolate goo drips from several
noses.  Some people are laying in pools of syrupy glop, practically
swimming in the mess.

As the dust settles, eyes widen in shock and horror, mouths gape open,
perfect targets....

A loud grinding sound is heard, and the top of the thing that just
came through the wall comes open.  Rip, with a big you-know-what
eating grin on his face pops his head up and scans the room.  He is
riding on what might look like a tank, except for the fact that
instead of one cannon, there are six cannons spaced evenly around the
turret.  With a nod of his head, Rip slowly drops down into the tank.
Slowly, so as not to hurt anyone, the tank moves into the center of
the room.

'Ok, let 'em have it!' he says to the truck driver.

"Man is *this* gonna be fun!"  comes the reply back.

Slowly, in front of the still gawking FoodFighters, the turret begins
to rotate, slowly at first, it starts picking up speed.

Suddenly, before anyone can react, the cannons start spraying gooey
syrups.  Chocolate out of one, strawberry, butterscotch.  Then out of
the other three cannons came bannanas, crushed nuts, (OUCH), and
icecream.  Soon, the entire Cafeteria, and all those inside, were
covered by the BannanaSplitTank, (BST).

Those whose mouths were gawking open when the BST first appeared find
bannanas stuffed in their mouths, those bending over....  well, you
know...  Ice-cream finds its way down many pairs of shorts, nuts would
be combed out of hair for weeks to come!

His job was complete, Rip beats a hasty retreat back out through
the East wall, pulls the tank back into the trailer, pays off the
driver, (with a healthy tip of course), jumps into the Websters, and
speads away, maniacal laughter drifting through the cool Autumn
afternoon....

Brewhahahahahahahahahahahaha......!!!!!!!!!!

The End?
Newsgroups: alt.romance.chat