From: daniel@yoyo.cc.monash.edu.au (Daniel Bowen)
Subject: TOXIC CUSTARD WORKSHOP FILES #115
Followup-To: rec.humor.d
Summary: Reluctantly Normal Toxic Custard
Reply-To: tcwf@gnu.ai.mit.edu
Organization: Monash University, Melb., Australia.
Date: Mon, 28 Sep 1992 02:31:08 GMT

 _____   ___   _ _ _   ____   _   _   ___
|_   _| |  _| | | | | | ___| | | | | | __|   Toxic Custard Workshop Files
  | |   | |_  | | | | |  _|  | | | | |__ \   Number 115 - 28th September 1992
  |_|   |___| |_____| |_|    |_| |_| |___/   Written by Daniel Bowen

THE ADVENTURES OF POPSICLE - THE SPECKLED TRAM  Part Seven

At the rear-end of our last not-quite-as-thrilling-as-it-could-be and         O
not-quite-as-final-as-we-wished-it-would-be episode, Inspector                h
Unnecessary-Violence and Mr Popsicle of the infamously infamous
Australian Royal Security Establishment had cornered the nasty-wasty          d
Reginald Completebastardprick in the suburbs, in the street, in a tram,       e
in a state of utter terror at the thought of being caught and brought         a
to Justice. And if Justice had had any idea of the possibility of             r
meeting Reginald Completebastardprick, she'd have been pretty terrified       ,
about it too. Which just goes to show the dangers of blind dates.
    The seige between our heroes and the armed and dangerous nasty man        t
was going pretty seigely, and as we pick up the story and throw it out        h
the window, the latter has just shouted a bunch of obscenities at our         a
heroes, to the effect that not only would anyone from a decent                t
upbringing with a reasonably well-paying job, a house in the suburbs,
3.2 kids and a parrot be mortally offended by the language used and           P
hence carked (*this is the word the dictionary choked on, any                 o
suggestions as to the spelling are welcome) it on the spot.. not only         p
to that effect, but also to the other and more interesting effect that        s
Reginald Completebastardprick was not going to give in without a fight.       i
He had battled hard to get the position as star villain in this story,        c
and wouldn't be relinquishing the position easily. It had been                l
difficult enough getting into the finalists for the position, not to          e
mention finding out all their addresses and bumping them off one by one
so that he had to get the job.                                                p
    The Inspector and Popsicle considered Completebastardprick's rather       u
negative and rebellious and villain-like response, and held a quick           n
two-person conference, debated, considered again and decided                  c
unanimously to take him out. They prepared for several minutes, placing       h
marksmen at Queen's Knight 4, Queen's Pawn 2 and Kings Rook 1, and then       l
put the order out on the radios: "Take him out." All the radios were          i
naturally tuned to COP-FM, the all-new stereo sound sensation of the          n
airwaves for all law-enforcement personnel. Yes, COP-FM, with which 24        e
hours a day, you could be guaranteed to be able to turn on the radio
and hear a track by the Police.                                               i
    The ARSE marksmen (aka the Soggies) were all highly trained, having       s
got their experience in a large number of seiges and raids, most of
them in Redfern. David Gundy, the entire cast and crew of Toxic Custard       t
#94, JFK, JR, Ronald Reagan, you name it, they'd shot it. So when the         e
order came to take Completebastardprick out, they were ready. They had        r
prepared. They had practised several times on the neighbourhood kids.         r
They moved in, armed and dangerous, on the tram in which R.C was              i
hiding. And on the count of 4 (because they couldn't count any higher),       b
they stuck all their collection of bloody dangerous looking guns in his       l
face and shouted in formation: "Hello Reg! We're the Australian Royal         e
Security Establishment marksmen, and we'd really like to get to know          .
you better! Do you fancy a cup of coffee, or a meal, after the story is
finished?"                                                                    B
    And that's how they took him out.                                         u
                                                                              t
    T H E  E N D  (Thank God)
                                                                              n
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                                                                              v
MRS IRENE BUSYBODY SPEAKS OUT ON...                                           e
Street-theatre. Now I can stand a little theatre now and then.                r
Shakespeare, Oscar Wilde, all that. But I just don't understand this
stupid street-theatre that seems to be stalking our streets these days.       m
More feared than all the muggers and pickpockets on the planet are the        i
dreaded women in formation on monocycles holding sparklers and haddock        n
riding along the footpath. Are you really trying to tell me that half a       d
dozen men in wetsuits and Reeboks with televisions on their heads             .
dancing to new age music means something? What message are they trying
to get across to the masses? *If* they're making a statement about the        H
suffering of the homeless youth in the inner cities, why the hell don't       e
they make a banner and shout about it in front of Parliament House. At        l
least they'd get their message across.                                        l
    And what really gets me is that these people are paid for using           o
public money. I probably paid for one of those television sets, but the       ,
bloke wouldn't even let me tune into A Country Practice when I asked
him. It might be okay, but paying for these twats isn't even optional.        I
I look at my horrendously complicated tax form, and do I see an
exemption from street-theatre tax for those who think they're all a           w
bunch of arty hippy gits? No.                                                 o
    What a waste of money. The other thing that really gets up my nose,       n
down my throat and into my bowels is these university types who manage        d
to spend millions upon millions of dollars on those computer network          e
things, and then use them to send stupid poems, moronic messages,             r
opinionated opinions and other wastes of space like undergraduate
humour, stuff which isn't even funny, all over the world. I saw an            w
excerpt from one of them the other week, the "Toxic Pudding Working           h
File", or something. Crap, complete crap. Not a single worthwhile word        a
can ever have come from the nonentity that wrote it. He'd be more             t
value to the world if he had his brain surgically removed and put in a
bucket. And they wouldn't need a very big bucket, either.                     t
                                                                              h
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                                                                              s
Even the most brilliant and talented individual will occasionally fuck   ______
things up completely. In a bureaucracy, it's worse. Hundreds of lowly __/     s
and moronic individuals fuck things up more often, making collective_/        q
fucking-up far more frequent and disastrous.                       /          u
    But smaller numbers of people can fuck up things too. Take, for\          i
example, the Geelong Football Club...                            __/          g
                                                         _______/             g
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~             /                     l
This has been another worthless unfunny                 \                     y
instalment of the Toxic Pudding Working         ________/
File. Subscriptions are *still* available,     /                              l
so please email for any details which might __/                               i
possibly (or possibly not) be available.   /                                  n
Send mail now to tcwf@gnu.ai.mit.edu, or  /                                   e
reply to this crudfest.           _______/
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~~~                                   i
Copyright (c) 1992 Daniel Bowen. \  All writs reserved.                       s
--                               /
Daniel Bowen, Monash University,/                                             f
Melbourne, Australia-----------/       Thou shalt not commit adultery         o
daniel@yoyo.cc.monash.edu.au---\         with thy neighbour's camel.          r
TCWF stuff: tcwf@gnu.ai.mit.edu/                                              ?
Newsgroups: rec.humor