From: gardabr@unix1 (Gard Eggesbo Abrahamsen)
Subject: Dancing with the devil / Christine II
Organization: University of Trondheim, Norway
X-Newsreader: TIN [version 1.1 PL6]
Date: Tue, 10 Nov 92 13:01:04 GMT


The  names and events have been changed to protect both the  persons  and 
the events from public publicity,  since the innocent part insisted  upon 
not  being identifiable whenever read by someone capable  of  identifying 
this person,  even though it should be clear to anyone reading this  that 
the  innocent part is innocent of the crimes(?) committed in this  story, 
which not at all has got anything to do with reality... I think.
   You might find the story a bit confusing here and there,  and some  of 
the  scenes  may offend the odd  reader  (especially  christians).  This, 
however, is intentional, and is protected by the freedom of speech.

                          Dance with the devil
              The final Mega File Connection version (MFC)
                       by Gard Eggesboe Abrahamsen
                          dedicated to "Julie"

Extract from "Encyclopdia of magic, volume 1":

Gukkulukk      Magical dance.  Performer dances round its subject  whilst 
               clapping  and doing silly things,  looking intensively  at 
               the subject and generally having fun.  The effect is  that 
               the subject will find itself start feeling funny about the 
               performer in a very funny way. If the subject is under the 
               Haaa  spell,  it will tip over and not  remember  anything 
               about  what  happened between the Gukkulukk and  the  next 
               time  it gets to breath fresh air.  The fresh air will  be 
               used  for  recovery.  If this recovery is  interrupted  by 
               further attention from the performer of the  Gukkulukk,  a 
               crush is bound to strike the subject.

Haaa spell     Spell  that will awaken the subject's optimism as well  as 
               making  it  aware of the existence of  the  spell  caster. 
               Often used together with the Gukkulukk.

                               --- --- ---

This can't be so. Why shouldn't I care to live for the cause of life? Why 
would I commit suicide at any moment given to me?  There must be a little 
bit more time and a little bit else to life than me and silly quotes from 
Kylie Minogue's newest album.  By God (in whom I do not  believe),  there 
must be more.  And so I stretch out and reach out from my body in  search 
of  life.  Trying  to find a life that can be less  depressing  than  the 
current  one.  And I stretch so far out that I loose the grip of my  body 
and find myself standing in front of the gate of Kingdom Come.  I  gently 
knock on the door.
   As I stand there waiting for someone to open,  I realize that the door 
is  too thick to knock through,  and therefore look around for  the  door 
bell  before  I  press the button attached to it.  A  faint  dong  sounds 
through Kingdom Come, and an angel comes to let me in.
   I let the angel escort me to the great hall of justice, where my maker 
is sitting on a big chair, judging my life from second to second, waiting 
for a chance to send me straight to hell. It was now I noticed that there 
was something familiar with him. He looked up and showed me that insanely 
witty look of his. Yes. It was me.
   And he opened his mouth as if to speak, but he didn't speak, and still 
I heard his voice,  knew his thoughts and cared less about the fact  that 
the  surrounding  Gards were listening to this silence that  was  passing 
between us.
   "Gard," I whispered to myself. "Is that me?"
   "Yes," my maker answered.  "It is you. My name is Gard Al Mity, but my 
friends just call me God,  and so may you. But may I ask myself one thing 
before we go on: What brings me to Kingdom Come?"
   And I told myself, God, how I had been longing for the answer of life. 
Why should I go on living when life itself was not present?  What was  my 
mission in life?  And I,  God,  told myself that the mission was whatever 
mission I gave myself. And as far as I knew, the mission had something to 
do with females.
   Not  a  bit wiser,  I decided to give it a try,  and  so  I  descended 
through  the  skies of open and polluted air before I found my  body  and 
reentered  it  in a mysterious way that inspired U2 to make a  new  song. 
This  song  is now known as "Mysterious Ways" and is frequently  sent  on 
MTV.
   Females.  I tasted on it.  Yeah. Sure. It had to be. And so I wandered 
off  looking for them.  Not knowing where to start,  I packed my bag  and 
went out through one of the doors of my home,  but I stopped in the  door 
way and swore to myself:  Shit.  It was raining. I went back in, found an 
umbrella,  ran to the car and started the long drive.  My entire life was 
ahead of me, waiting to be found where I once had lost it.
   I  didn't  exactly  know  what to say when a  very  cuddly  thing  was 
standing  by the road in the rain.  I could not do anything but stop  and 
pick her up. And I really wanted to pick her up. I opened the door just a 
few  inches in front of her and looked at her smiling face and  the  rain 
drops  that made her face so wet.  The sight of this cuddly female  being 
beaten by the rain was too much for me to bare.
   "Come  on in," I said with a gentle tone in my voice,  offering her  a 
safe ride,  and a dry one, but she shook her head and kept smiling as she 
told me that she already had a car.  I could not see it. In fact, I could 
not see another car for miles and miles.  "Don't be silly," I  said.  But 
she called me a mother fucker and slammed the door on my face. So I drove 
on, into eternity.
   And there was a voice coming from overhead,  so I looked up, trying to 
find  the  stereo loud speakers,  but then there were  none.  The  voice, 
however,  was still there,  and it asked me what I was doing in eternity, 
when I was supposed to be looking for my life.
   I could not answer this question, and I soon found myself back, behind 
the  wheel  of my car,  heading for destination  unknown.  I  looked  out 
through the front shield, and discovered a sign passing by. I sighed as I 
read, there were 42 miles to destination unknown. Once again, I looked up 
to  the  sky,  wondering  if I was driving in  the  right  direction  and 
requesting a sign.
   My  request  was immediately dealt with by the one up  there,  and  an 
answer  materialized  a  few  hundred feet in front  of  me  in  such  an 
unsuspected shape as the shape of a neon sign.  It flashed green and  red 
letters.  Large  letters.  Letters forming a nice and warm  message  that 
immediately made me think of loud music,  vomit, head ache and...females. 
This was truly a sign of dimensions never before thought of.
   I  stopped  just beneath the sign from above,  got down on  my  knees, 
folded  my  hands and praised myself for giving me a sign.  Still  on  my 
knees I stretched my arms up into the air to let the glorious and  sacred 
light  of  the neon sign fill my body with happiness as I read  the  sign 
from my one and only true master: "DISCO"
   Looking  around,  I quickly found a house with a door attached to  it. 
Through  one of the windows,  I could see a shining bright light  filling 
the souls of the people that were hopping around in ecstasy with a divine 
spirit much more divine than Plantiac.
   And I felt the divinity shine through me even though I was standing on 
the outside. And the divinity filled my heart, making me wish for more. I 
slowly  entered  the house,  let the banging rhythms smash  my  head  and 
thrash my body as my eyes started its search for the Divine Reason I  was 
here.
   Ecstasy  caught  me.  I  started thrashing  around  with  the  rhythm, 
shaking,  rattling and rolling,  until suddenly, the rhythm stopped for a 
moment.  Trying to catch my breath,  I moved away from the source of  the 
uncontrollable feeling. As I did this, a most minute, but still so cuddly 
creature almost threw itself at me, screaming a spell at the same time.
   I could not possibly reproduce the spell here. With all its complexity 
of its pronunciation,  a complete reproduction through writing can  never 
be done, but its sound would very much be described as a "Haaa!"
   My feet started trembling. My head turned around. My heart stopped for 
a second or two. There was no doubt about it. The spell had taken effect. 
As soon as my lungs were finished breathing, I was drawn back to the area 
of the house where the rhythms took control.
   Once again,  my body was shaking,  rattling and rolling. I thrashed my 
head  to and fro.  I lost control - until suddenly,  the female that  had 
cast  the spell had started her magical dance round her victim.  And  the 
victim was me.  I smiled.  I loved it. And she smiled back. Yes. This had 
to be the Divine Reason.
   The words "Julie" and "Gukkulukk" went through my head. I did not know 
what these words meant.  A magical walkman swept in from nowhere and told 
me that "Julie" was the name of the female.  The other word - "Gukkulukk" 
was still unexplained to me.
   I can't quite remember what happened after this. It seems as if it has 
been erased from my mind,  or as if it was completely unimportant.  Every 
movement  after this magical dance has been removed from my  memory,  and 
the  next  thing  I can recall is me being shoved out  of  the  house  of 
divinity by a cold soul that wanted the divine radiation for itself.
   My  tired eyes looked with mixed emotions on the flashing  neon  sign, 
and my lungs were once again filled with fresh air. Somehow, its divinity 
was so much clearer,  now, but still it was somewhat weaker than before I 
had  entered the house.  Yes,  indeed.  Quite a lot of the  divinity  had 
magically been transferred to a cuddly female I could only recall by look 
and the name "Julie".
   And  I  could recall the spell casting and the magical  dance.  And  I 
remembered  the words that had gone through my  head.  Julie.  Gukkulukk. 
Would I ever see her again?
   My prayers were,  of course,  answered immediately, as Julie popped up 
together with two other females.  She once again did another approach  on 
my loaded brain,  asking if I knew someone I knew. I did. And once again, 
I felt the feeling of divine powers glowing from her.
   The following days went smoothly,  getting information from  different 
sources about the minute female that had filled my heart with emotions  I 
had never felt before.  She was definitely my only Reason. I was smiling, 
hoping and wishing. It was finally my turn to know the Divine Reason. And 
for the first time, I could sense love nearby.
   "Gard,"  a nearby voice said,  waking me up from my  daily  dreams.  I 
turned  and stared into the eyes of a female that was sitting a few  feet 
from me. "Catch," she continued, as she threw a small piece of paper over 
to me.
   It  was important to me.  The final piece of information I  needed  to 
make me happy. Slowly, I opened the small note and read the tiny letters, 
postponing my reaction till later. And later was approximately 10 minutes 
later.
   I folded the piece of paper,  tore it apart. For a moment, I wanted to 
eat it and get drunk, but the little sense I had left stopped me and made 
me  tear  the note a bit more apart before I threw it  into  the  nearest 
trash can.  "NO!" I yelled inside my head, banging my brain to the inside 
of my skull. "NO!" I heard the echo repeat.

   Caught in a vertigo
   Things are running round my head
   Circles penetrate my brain
   No wonder I'm getting confused!
      The circles running round my head
      The circles running round in my head
      I'm falling in a vortex
      Of confusion
   Little can I do
   To get away from this death trap
   I can't take no more
   I've got to find my way out
      The circles running round my head
      The circles running round in my head
      I'm falling in a vortex
      Of confusion
   My brain is cooking
   My body is shaking
   My eyes are popping out of my head
   And...
      The circles running round my head
      The circles running round in my head
      I'm falling in a vortex
      Of confusion

   How could she?  Schwartzenegger!  Here I come!  Give me blood, give me 
torture.  Let the incredible sounds of Death Angels,  Dark Angel, Slayer, 
Megadeth, Vendetta and Sepultura fill my soul. Show no mercy for the good 
feelings  that would remain in my body.  Get rid of that spell!  I  don't 
want it any more!

                 Blipp Blopp
                 My heart says stop
                 Blipp Blopp
                 Your throat goes chop

   Edgar Alan Poe,  show me how to kill.  Arnold,  show me lots of blood. 
Let  me see those people suffer,  let me see those people die.  There  is 
nothing for me on this earth,  so why should there be anything for  them? 
Thrash  the  world,  slaughter the people.  I'll  release  my  aggression 
anywhere I go.

                 There's nothing for me
                 In this fuckin' world
                 So I think I'll nuke it.
                 Shit, am I depressed?

   But  a minute voice in the back of my head whispered that I had to  go 
on with my life.  18 years after my birth was too early to die.  I  might 
not ever have a female in my arms, but it is still too early to tell. And 
even if I should ever experience to have a female in my arms, I might not 
ever feel the same emotions again.  And my life might be too short for me 
to know.
   As a lonely male I got into this world, and as a lonely, untouched and 
innocent male, I will probably also leave it.

                 Innocence, don't stay with me
                 Innocence, drop dead
                 Innocence, fuck off

I  park  the car,  the moon is shining.  I'm  alone,  together  with  the 
reflections of the moon in the water.  I sigh as I fall  asleep,  hugging 
the car seat in desperation...

                               --- --- ---

With all those females rushing by my parked car,  it is hard not to  wake 
up.  I open my eyes and stretch my arms and my legs, shaking the last bit 
of  sleep out of my body.  A quick splash of water in my face and  a  big 
spray of deodorant under my arm before turning on the radio.  Tune it  in 
on the nearest station and relax as I listen to the news.
   Eat  a quick breakfast as I'm at it and clean up the mess in  the  car 
before  heating up the engine.  Open that window and check out if any  of 
the nearby girls wishes a ride.
   "Fuck  you," one of them said as she threw a bucket of  water  through 
the  open window.  A tactical retreat was obviously a great need in  this 
situation.  So I closed the window and went off with no Divine Reason and 
no destination.  The only thing guiding me was the faint image of a  very 
special,  minute,  cuddly  female that had cast a spell on me just  three 
months before.
   And  my going went gone as I realized that I had nothing more to  live 
for.  I  pushed the gas to the floor and watched as the road was  rushing 
towards me at an increasing speed. This was, of course, to be punished.
   A hitch hiker jumped into the road,  and since I didn't want to  spill 
any blood on the front of my car, I turned the wheel and just avoided the 
hitch  hiker.  But this time,  I was heading off the road.  I turned  the 
wheel once more. Again I was heading for the hitch hiker. I hit the break 
and  stopped  the car just a few inches in front of the  hitch  hiker.  I 
thanked myself up there for my incredible luck.
   I  drove calmly to the next public building,  where a party  obviously 
was going on. What happened to me next, I'm not quite sure. It felt as if 
desperation took over my brain and pushed me into the party and onto  the 
stage where I happily started to sing "Speak English or Die" by S.O.D.
   It  was  unfortunate that hard core metal wasn't  tolerated,  as  some 
foolish  looking  guy (he had very short hair) tried to get  me  off  the 
stage.  But  I was still possessed by the desperation that had pushed  me 
onto  the stage.  My head was thrown in every direction possible while  I 
was  singing.  My neck started hurting,  and I finally realised why  they 
called it head banging.
   This  would  all be very well if the fool with the short  hair  hadn't 
brought his baseball bat.  The world was shaking and falling apart  under 
my feet (or was it the other way around?). A second later, I found myself 
lying on the floor, not singing, but twisting and turning in pain. A pain 
so  awful it can't be reproduced on paper.  The pain was strengthened  as 
the fool completed his works by sticking his bat in my stomach.  He  then 
dragged me off the stage and kicked me down the stairs.
   "Julie," a voice whispered into my brain.
   "Gukkulukk," another voice told me.
   "Klllgllglkrll," I uttered,  coughing up some blood.  The blood had  a 
strange  taste,  so I spitted it onto the floor and looked at it  lay  an 
inch in front of my bare eyes.
   "What?"  the  fool asked,  trying to understand my twisted  words  and 
thoughts  that  were  swimming through the pools  of  blood  before  they 
finally  reached my mouth,  which at the moment happened to be the  worst 
output facility available.  "Claire?" he thought he managed to  interpret 
my word.  Without waiting for an answer, he pushed me over to a very sexy 
creature whose name was Claire.
   "Dnnnnnschkkkklll," I uttered,  coughing up some more blood.  My  feet 
collapsed  once more,  and the next thing I remember is waking up on  the 
floor. The building was empty, with the exception of myself and the pools 
of blood I had coughed up during the party.
   A faint image of a minute female appeared in front of me.  I shook  my 
head,  trying  to shake it off,  but no such luck.  The image  was  still 
there,  reminding  me of a disco,  flashing lights,  ecstasy and  magical 
dances.
   I  got up on my feet and slowly dragged myself out of the party  zone. 
Leaning  to  one of the walls,  I took a few deep breaths of  fresh  air, 
clearing  up  my mind.  The stars were shining bright spots in  the  sky, 
radiating  some  sort  of  divinity,  but still so  far  away  and  weak. 
Undoubtedly,  I had left myself to live my life for my own.  This despite 
of the fact that I hadn't yet found my life.
   "Excuse me," a voice said behind me.  I turned around and met the eyes 
of a certain female I had met somewhat earlier.  Without a word,  I asked 
her to continue. "Do you know this girl?" she asked, making me notice she 
was carrying a somewhat drunk female I certainly knew.
   "Yeah," I answered,  getting totally lost in my own thoughts of Divine 
Reasons and the meaning of life.  A wind blew on my nose,  and the  fresh 
air  streamed into my lungs as the image faded away and the wall  of  the 
public building once again appeared in front of me.
   The pain in my arm got stronger,  and I started to freeze as the  wind 
started blowing.  My hair went wild,  tried to choke me,  but an  unknown 
Reason kept me alive and pushed me into my car.  I was alive,  but  dead. 
And as a dead fish,  I desperately wanted out of the net that had  caught 
me.  A net of magic strings,  I could not cut them with a knife.  I would 
just  get a glimpse of the fisherman now and then,  as the fisherman  had 
put out the net for fun. And my body would rot in that net, polluting the 
sea rather than ending up as a fried dinner.
   The  smell  of dinner passed by.  Lasagne.  The smell of  a  new  year 
rounding the corner of the month.  Lasagne.  The smell of a good wish for 
myself. I needed lots of spice. Addiction.

                               --- --- ---

"Happy  new  year,  Gard,"  a known voice said.  Of  course.  One  of  my 
neighbours had spotted me as I was almost crawling through the huge  mass 
of insane people that constantly were shooting each other with  miniature 
missiles and putting bombs in the trash cans.  If this had been in  Great 
Britain,  they  would  definitely  been misidentified as  the  IRA  doing 
another  terrorist attack at innocent  people.  This,  however,  was  the 
Norwegian new years eve.
   "Happy  new year," I answered,  being slightly ironical.  Not  that  I 
preferred  an unhappy new year,  but my doubts were creeping up my  back, 
whispering  pessimistic thoughts into my ear.  My chain of  thoughts  was 
interrupted by a huge explosion in front of me.  Pain in my ears. Pain in 
my  eyes.  A cloud of gun smoke had arisen from the ground and in  it,  I 
could  see  the faint image of an extremely cuddly female with  the  name 
Julie.  I  shook  my head,  tried to think of  something  else,  only  to 
recognize the chaos that was surrounding me.
   The voice behind me seemed to be a familiar one. "Gukkulukk," it said. 
I  turned quickly around and spotted a little bomb on the ground  just  a 
few  inches away from me.  I threw myself to the ground just as the  bomb 
exploded.  The world was turning around,  my feet hurt,  my head hurt,  I 
hurt, and I could still see the image of the female in front of me.
   It  seemed  so real,  I stretched my arm out to grab  it,  but  all  I 
grabbed was the thick polluted air that was trying to poison me with  gun 
smoke.  It was then the feeling of a divine power lifted me into the  air 
in a terrible speed.  A missile just missed me before I arrived at one of 
the few clouds that were covering the sky this clear new years eve.
   There was a big flash and the sweet sound of an electric guitar as  my 
surroundings  changed,  and I found myself in the great hall of  justice, 
where my true Master was awaiting.
   "Gard," my Master told me. "I'm sorry I have to talk to myself in this 
way, but you haven't lived properly the last 6800 days, or so. I know I'm 
gonna regret this, but I have to go to hell."
   "But...I'm  working on it,  can't I see?  I'm really  trying.  Please, 
can't I give myself another chance?" I screamed.
   My Master put a chewing gum in his mouth and started chewing.  Then he 
stopped chewing and started thinking.  A minute or two later, he gave up. 
"I'm absolutely right," he said.  "I'll give myself another chance.  Here 
we go," He lifted his arms,  cast spell and an electrical charge  flashed 
through the sky in very much the same way as lightnings do.  "I'm right," 
he shouted, but his shout faded away as the distance grew between us, and 
it was completely gone when I finally arrived in my bed.
   The electrical charge hit the dish antenna just beneath my window, and 
the  blue  light was illuminating my room as I felt an  electric  current 
stream though my body.  Was this what they called a recharge? I got up on 
my  feet  and looked through the square glass-covered hole in  the  wall, 
wondering why it was called a window.
   It was blowing outside.  Trees bent over, street lamps bent over, cars 
were  jumping  up and down,  making me wonder if  aerodynamic  technology 
really  had gone far enough or if it wasn't worth doing more research  on 
it for another ten years.
   A roof passed by the window,  now and then, and with them, an image of 
a  female  that I felt meant so extremely much to me.  She was  truly  an 
angel.
   I  closed my eyes,  and the image was still there.  "Come to me,"  the 
image whispered.  Oh yes,  I would. I would, if I could. I got down on my 
knees,  stretched  out my arms to let the divine image fill my body  with 
hope and longing.
   "I'm coming,  my divine beauty,  daughter of the light,  sister of  my 
life,  I'm  coming!" I whispered.  "I'm coming if you'll let me."  And  I 
opened my eyes,  discovering that the image had disappeared. A dumb sound 
sounded from above, and I got the impression that the roof was leaving me 
for good,  but no such luck.  Still intact,  the house defied the beating 
wind,  as if the divine power from the electrical charge had something to 
do with it.
   I  got into the car,  hoping to be blown away by the wind any  second. 
But to my despair,  the car was stuck to the ground like a rock.  "C'mon, 
blow me away," I screamed.  "As long as the divine female is with someone 
else, there is no reason for me to live my life!"
   The wind quit blowing. Damn!
   I got out of the car. "KILL ME, DAMIT!" I heard my echo repeat my wish 
far  far  away,  and  I realised that I was talking to  a  mountain  that 
wouldn't move. No glove, no love, I thought, wandering off into the house 
whilst listening to the sounds of an oil tanker hitting a rock. Listening 
to the sound of the tanker cracking a bit open,  and the oil pouring  out 
into the sea.
   The birds went furious, and the bird rock of Runde considered taking a 
step  back  to avoid getting dirty by the black thick liquid  the  humans 
liked to call oil.
   Death and devastation went through my mind.  I needed more violence. I 
needed more pizzas. I needed more blood. And I couldn't bare the sight of 
the Renault 18 no more. I closed my eyes, hoping it would all go away.

                               --- --- ---

I can feel that somebody is lurking in the shadows behind me. I feel this 
person's careful stare at my back that checks out if I'm looking in  that 
direction. I'm not.
   The  person  carefully  sneaks up behind me and gently  blinds  me  by 
laying the soft hands in front of my eyes. "Guess who?" the warm voice of 
a female whispers sensually into my ear.
   "Julie," I mumble, grabbing her hands to kiss them.
   "Gukkulukk,"  Julie replies before she disappears in a puff  of  black 
smoke  that fills the room with a strange feminine smell and the  strange 
feeling that I have lost something important. S.O.D. appears for a second 
or two to tell me to kill myself, but my insanity keeps me alive.

   "Go  and do something about it," a voice overhead  spoke,  determined, 
overwhelming  and unopposable.  I started step dancing,  heard the  music 
play  from  an unknown spot in the room that probably  was  covered  with 
clearasil.

              "Lost in a dream,
               I don't know which
               Way to go..."

Discovering that I had started quoting Paula Abdul,  I quickly found  the 
camera and recorded it on a video tape.

               Ai...ai...ey...
               Should I stay or should I...
               Kill myself, kill myself
               Why don't I kill myself?
               Is it just insanity or is it
               just the life I deny? Why?

And  now I had started quoting Gloria  Estefan,  the  Clash,  S.O.D.  and 
Vendetta.  I thrashed around,  banging the keyboard of my computer for  a 
couple  of  hours,  writing approximately 45 kilobytes of text  before  I 
threw myself onto my bed,  almost wishing that spell never had been  cast 
upon me.  The image wouldn't dissolve.  The image was hanging in front of 
me  like  a shadow of darkness that was missing in my heart,  a  pint  of 
blood that was missing from my veins. My flesh was burning, and my entire 
chest was on fire. The image of Julie, the divine female, was haunting my 
head  and  would not let go,  and I realized that it would  not  go  away 
before I got to tell her how I felt,  tell her everything, dance with her 
and go to the movies with her.
   The  fire in my chest got hotter,  and my flesh started crawling  away 
from  my  body,  so  I hurried into the bath room and took  an  ice  cold 
shower.  When I got back to my bed, my body was still lying there, mostly 
ablaze.

               The blood I shed
               I think you're dead
               And you're lying on my bed

   There's a hole in my heart. Sometimes, it feels as if a fly has gotten 
into  it,  but it's completely sealed off.  It's filled  with  emptiness, 
mostly,  and nothingness keeps pouring into it.  Why,  I ask, why don't I 
put my finger in it to make it stop bleeding? And so I turn on the TV and 
wait for my pizza to burn.  I like it burnt,  because I like to  identify 
myself with it.
   And  I insert the pizza in my mouth and see the body on bed.  It's  me 
lying there,  quoting myself,  quoting everybody else, and writing it all 
down.  A faint image of a female haunts my thoughts and actions as I fall 
heavily onto my bed, next to myself, fully aware of the fact that I'm the 
only one there.
   So  I  slam my head to the wall.  Watch the blood stick to it  in  its 
desperate attempt to stick onto something,  keeping the last bits of life 
in it oppressed but alive. Let the brain pour out of my head, there is no 
need  to keep it in my stupid head that is pushing it under the limit  of 
existence. A fatal blow to crush the wall that is standing between me and 
my Kingdom Come, here I come, my Master.
   And I lie there in a coma, with no chance of recovery. I can not move. 
I  can not speak.  I can not express my meanings and feelings.  Like  the 
untalented fool that failed life,  I leave my body behind, hoping it will 
die soon.
   I  enter  the  world  of Kingdom Come,  watch the  sun  glowing  in  a 
mysterious way.  There is no wind,  but still the trees are whispering to 
me,  quietly, calmly, gently, with words that are hard to grasp, but soon 
I recognize them. "Gukkulukk," they tell me. "Julie."
   And  I  turn around as I hear a cracking sound  behind  me.  A  minute 
female that I easily recognized is standing there, with a minute smile on 
her face,  so warm and sensual,  untouchable.  She jumps onto me,  let me 
loose  my balance,  and we roll around on the grass in a divine  ecstasy, 
hugging each other.
   "Julie," I whisper.
   "Gard," she whispers back.
   And we both fall into a momentary vacuum in space and time, feeling no 
gravity  or ground.  There is no wind blowing,  it's just the two of  us, 
together,  being  one  in a very special way,  giving me a  very  special 
feeling only this very special female knows how to give me.
   Then,  nothing. Emptiness. A perfect lack of feelings and emotions, as 
if  everything  happened on a screen in front of me,  and the  video  was 
turned off by somebody pressing the stop button.
   "Gard," I heard somebody whisper into my ear. I opened my eyes and got 
blinded by the light from the sun that was shining through the window  of 
my bed room.
   "Gard,"  the voice repeated.  Turning my head a bit,  I saw my  mother 
standing above me, looking a bit worried. "Gard, you're late,"
   I quickly looked at my watch. Seven o'clock. Damn! The bus would leave 
in half an hour.  I got dressed,  ate breakfast and ran out to catch  the 
bus. I just made it.

   Sitting  in  the bus,  I do nothing,  just experience the  lack  of  a 
certain female by my side.  And I think of the times that never occurred. 
How the world would've changed.  Thoughts of the inspiration I'm lacking, 
how much inspiration I would've had if the source was near me a bit  more 
often than never.

   I'm sitting in a pub,  with a glass of coke in my hand.  Drinking  the 
coke from my glass.  A thick slimy lump is creeping up my throat, waiting 
for a chance to kick my eyes out. Quietly, I walk out of the pub and look 
at the dark sky with its minute spots that are shining so bright,  but so 
far away.
   And  I cast a curse at a passing fly as I realise that I'm  not  drunk 
simply because I won't let me drink alcoholic liquors.  "Haaa," I whisper 
to myself, sniffing a tear that has fallen from my left eye into my nose. 
The tear has left a thin line of wet skin under my eye,  so I wipe it off 
with my hand. "Fuck it," I mumble as I get up and walk over to the nearby 
beach. "Life's too cruel."
   The sea is calm, but I can hear the sound of bigger waves further out, 
violently  hitting each other in anger.  Moonlight is reflecting  in  the 
water,  seductively calling for me,  whispering to me about how all  pain 
will end as I let go into the sea.
   Just  by the moon,  I see the face of the divine female that cast  the 
spell  on me.  Another tear appears in my eye,  but I don't bother  about 
wiping it away.

   Opening  my eyes,  I was back in the bus.  People were all around  me, 
laughing,  having fun,  chatting.  All but me, as the seat by my side was 
empty.  I stretched my hand up to pull the string that was hanging  above 
me,  by the window.  A bell sounded,  and the bus stopped.  I got off.  I 
would walk the last part...alone.
   After this,  I could not remember anything, as if the world rolled by. 
I don't know what happened,  just hear the odd sound of screaming females 
and a flashing neon sign. Nothing else. I can't make much out of it. It's 
just there as a memory I've forgotten and don't want to remember.

                               --- --- ---

The  loud hammering of a door being slammed shattered the silence  as  it 
echoed through the empty corridor. The broken silence tried to fight back 
but  was  once again knocked down by restless footsteps moving  down  the 
corridor,  showing the way to two human voices that seemed to be somewhat 
concerned.
   Two items of metal scraped against each other.  A hatch opened.  Light 
leaked  into the room like a blob of slime filling the already  chokingly 
thick emptiness of the room, revealing a boy who was staring at the grey, 
shadowless walls, barely moving his lips.
   The  boy  had long,  uncut hair,  glasses and a  minute  mustage.  His 
Sepultura T-shirt was soaked with blood and snot, dripping down on to his 
trousers.
   "Gukkulukk,"  he was mumbling to himself,  before realizing that  some 
nosty people were watching him. He turned his head and squinted with fear 
in his eyes at the open hatch, as if it was death itself that was peeking 
in to him.  "Gukkulukk!" he whispered with a mixture of pain and  mystery 
in his deep breath.
   One of the men in the corridor spoke.  "We found him outside a  disco. 
He  had  crucified  a 12-year-old to a neon  sign,  under  which  he  was 
kneeling and praying, calling for someone called Julie."
   "Do  you think it is one of those new satani...?" the other one  tried 
to ask,  but was rudely cut off by a loud growl from the small boy in the 
cell.
   He was now uttering a gurgle before he started drooling on the  floor, 
still  staring  at the wall.  Sweat wettened his face as  his  arms  were 
getting restless, trying to escape from the T-shirt, it seemed. He got up 
on his feet, screaming. "Julie! Master of the Gukkulukk! Come for me! I'm 
yours!"
   "When   he  burst  out  like  that,   we've  found   something   quite 
interesting,"  the  first man in the corridor said,  as  he  connected  a 
walkman to a panel by the door which allowed him to play the tape for the 
psychopath in the cell.
   Almost  immediately,  the  boy cracked up and ended up on  his  knees, 
weeping.  Man number two in the corridor looked at the  walkman.  Through 
the  front  of  it,  he could barely see the label  of  the  tape  saying 
"Guns'n'Roses: Yesterdays".
   After  a  minute or so,  the boy got back up on his feet  and  started 
banging  his head to the walls.  Blood started running from the marks  on 
the wall, colouring away its monotonous sad greyness. Eventually, the boy 
fell back onto the floor, whispering. "Gukkulukk, gukkulukk,"
   "He'll  be fine," the first man said as he unplugged his  walkman  and 
closed the hatch again. "Let's go."
   Restless  footsteps  echoed  through the corridor before  a  door  was 
slammed shut. Yet again, silence filled the grey cells. Just the mumbling 
of someone repeatedly whispering "Gukkulukk," could be heard,  as well as 
another  one  crying for Julie.  Another one was  greatly  talking  about 
Alida.  Yet  another one was talking to himself about  Miranda.  A  fifth 
was...

                        Christine II - the sequel
                based on the lost script by King Stephen
            and finally rewritten by Gard Eggesb Abrahamsen
                          dedicated to "Julie"

Huge machines,  large,  enormous,  thrashing, smashing, bashing, crushing 
the  smaller,   less  harmful  machines  that  are  too  weak  to  defend 
themselves.  The human being is standing by the side as the weakest,  but 
still the most harmful machines ever built.
   The  machines,  built for the humans,  to be slaves,  working for  the 
humans,  killing other machines,  and sometimes other humans. They rarely 
think  with their metal brains.  They just smash and crush all day  long, 
trusting the humans fully,  until the humans betray them and build  other 
machines to crush the faithful ones.
   Who's to decide which machine is to die and which machine is to  live? 
Other  people would say that all machines are to die,  anyway.  A law  of 
nature that can not be denied.
   But machines die lonely, like they got into this world, lonely. All of 
what is keeping them up is the small glimpses they get of other machines. 
Still,  there was one machine that would not let go.  She was a car,  and 
her name was Christine.
   Christine was born naughty. She "accidentally" killed a human that was 
checking out her gear,  and she "accidentally" killed a few other  people 
who  were  driving her.  One could say that she was giving the  humans  a 
rough ride.
   There were,  of course,  exceptions. There were some people she loved, 
but  still,  it was not the same as having another car.  A car she  could 
spend her time with,  having fun, go joy riding, scaring stupid humans as 
it seemed as if they were driving without a driver.
   It  was  at a drive-in disco,  she saw him.  A brand  new  model  from 
Toyota.  She drove around him a few times,  racing the engine.  A passing 
human would easily confuse this sound with the human word "Haaa".
   Christine thought she liked the Toyota,  but she wasn't quite sure  if 
he liked her.  Surely,  if she'd asked,  he would say yes. Definitely. He 
was hungry.  Hungry for fun, hungry for experiencing mad and crazy things 
together with another car. And now, he was hungry for Christine.
   The  passing human looked a bit closer at Christine.  "Christine,"  it 
said.  "Is  that you,  Christine?" Christine raced her engine once  more. 
This  time,  it  was not confused with a "Haaa",  but it  was  definitely 
interpreted as a threat.  The human stared at Christine as she pushed the 
gas in and started racing towards it.
   There was a little "splat" sound as the human disintegrated.  A little 
blood got stuck on Christine's front shield.  She hurried to wipe it  off 
before she returned to the Toyota.
   "Toyota," she whispered into his gas tank. "My Toyota, my only Toyota. 
You're  the Toyota of my life.  I want to spend the rest of my days  with 
you,  Toyota." Then she threw a minute portion of water at him and opened 
her hood.
   The  Toyota got quite amazed with this action and was about to hop  on 
when  Christine  disappeared  into thin air,  leaving  only  the  exhaust 
behind.  The Toyota caught a bit before it reluctantly rolled off to  the 
nearest car cemetery and got somewhat depressingly compressed by  another 
machine.