From: meo@austin.ibm.com (Miles O'Neal)
Newsgroups: talk.bizarre
Subject: Where is the HATE??  It's right over there.
Date: 6 Oct 92 02:35:05 GMT
Reply-To: meo@austin.ibm.com (Miles O'Neal)
Organization: or lack thereof

Like a massive thunderhead with JATO boosters, the darkness
approached at calamitous speeds.  Mangled, nearly extinct
raptors, frozen in their fear for all time, flew aside like
so many hail stones, wreaking havoc on the sidewalks below
in the normally peaceful town.

Great gibbets of oozing black pus reached down to a window
as the shadow careened to a silent halt.  Through every
crack in the wall, between the molecules of the roof, they
violated the home, converging upon one bed.

handel was jerked from peaceful REM sleep into in-your-face
nightmare in less time than it takes an image to traverse
the optic nerves.  Flung through walls into the kitchen,
handel had no time to react before being forced into the
blender, which was apparently running on nitrous.  From the
tips of the toes to the head handel was fed into the gleefully
shrieking blades.

Poured into a red hot skillet, handel hissed and pooped into
the air, splattering the walls with half-baked gore.  Long
before cooling could begin, reassembly took place with the
help of liberal amounts of flour and Wesson Oil (tm), more
in the integuments than elsewhere.  A massive sneeze blew
handel's head off.  It landed by the kittens, which proceeded
to play soccer with it, claws unsheathed.  The rest of handel's
body was set to cleaning the splattered walls with what was
left of handel's tongue, which had not departed with the head.
The taste triggered a gag reflex, so this process seemed
destined to go on forever.

Suddenly, the corner of the room pulsated with an eerie orange
light.  Pure blackness gathered into a large human form, an
incandescent impossibility of purest white leaping from its
breast, brandishing a foot long dayglo rod at the furiously
writhing limbs of the first intruder.

"Back, back, die, die, die!" the newcomer screamed in joyous
rage, pummeling the evil wisps of onyx with the rod.  Where
the rod hit, brilliant sparks of mauve and taupe lit the room.
Knowing when it was licked, Hate withdrew what was left of its
tentacles and fled the scene, content once again with killing
endangered avians.

The Net.cop looked around disgustedly.  A mild zap convinced
the kittens to divest themselves of handel's head, which Greg
soundly kicked back onto the quivering body.

As handel slowly reintegrated the few nerves not completely
burned out with pain, a thin croak escaped the blistered,
bleeding lips.  "Thanks...I think."

"You asked for it, you got it, you newbie..." Net.cop sang
lustily.  Profering a green polystyrene and kevlar envelope
with its edges welded shut and clearly marked "DO NOT OPEN",
Greg vanished in a demented rainbow of tornados.

handel collapsed onto the floor, somehow crawled across the
room, and managed to pick up the envelope, which had a
disconcerting feel to it, as if it were doing its best to
crawl from handel's grasp.  The room began to spin crazily,
and handel passed out.

The feel of a kitten's tongue rasping on handel's bellybutton
finally restored consciousness.  Feeling somewhat stronger,
but somehow more decayed, handel managed a semblance of standing,
and lurched across to the counter.  Wiping away scorched slime,
handel dropped the package on the chopping block.  A moment's
perusal turned up a Super Ginsu Knife (tm), which eventually
cut through the kevlar.  Wisps of foul black smoke drifted out.

All that was inside was a thin black rectangle with a large X
on it which pulsed with an eerie ochre light, and the faint
legend below, "You Are Here".  It was probably a signal of some
sort, thought handel, with no idea as to why Greg had left it.

Thus lost in thought, handel failed to notice the malevolent
anthracite clouds furiously boiling towards the box and its
holder from all directions.