Subject:    Yesterday's Troll...
From:       Captain Infinity
Message-ID: <>

In article <>
Podkayne Fries wrote:

>Captain Infinity wrote:
>>In article <>
>>Podkayne Fries wrote:

>>><heehee>  Yeah, that was a "spit your coffee out your nose" kinda 
>>>post.  (Hot coffee, believe it or not, does wonders for mild sinus
>>>infections.  I felt so refreshed!)[1]
>>>[1] Wonder if it's time to repost THE OTHER FOLGER'S COMMERCIAL 
>>>post again?
>>Is that the one where the smarmy guy says "We've secretly replaced
>>Podkayne's mucous membranes with NEW FOLGERS CRYSTALS!  
>>She thinks it's decaffeinated, but it'snot!"
>Close, but no cigar.  I'm referring to the coffee enema post.
>And who do we know who's full of shit and could really use a good enema
> to clear the crap out?

OH MY GOD!  You're referring to a post I wrote BUT NEVER POSTED!  (Unless,
of course, you're referring to SOMETHING ELSE ENTIRELY, but if that's the
case I don't want to know about it because I AM IN COMPLETE CONTROL OF THIS

Well well well, you've clearly been eating too many yellow Peeps, because
your telepathic ability is so strong it has REACHED INTO THE PAST AND READ
MY MIND!  Since I cannot allow this kind of thing to go unanswered, it is
my duty to now post something that I wrote LAST FEBRUARY!

I'll update it *just a bit* to fit the current traffic.  I'm sure you'll
recognize most of the cast, and I'm also sure this will be the nail in the
coffin of respect that anyone has for me.  So be it.  I figure the B5
boards will be dead albatrosses around Usenet's neck in about four months
anyway, so chalk this up as my contribution to the effort to prevent a
lingering death.

   ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ 
   ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ 

In <>
AL2048 wrote:

>I took my complaint about being banned from rastb5mod to news.groups and
>I have never posted to a group called alt.groups.

Somewhere, in the distance, a siren can be heard.  Another member of the
League of Usenet Retards (LUseR's) has escaped confinement.

All of Usenet pauses, listens, counts the cycles of the siren as it rises
and falls.  Over in news.groups, Russ Allbery and Tim Skirvin look at each
other and give a sigh of relief.  "It's B5's problem child, again," Russ
mutters, and Tim nods. 

Over at the B5 groups, players on both sides of the fence hesitate,
wondering what form the tumor will take, hoping the remedy is not more
painful than the disease.  Suddenly a loud kazoo is heard. 

Captain Infinity, playing the theme to the Bugs Bunny and Tweetie Show on a
silver-flecked kazoo, rides in on a purple polka-dotted Hippity Hop and
calls together the Armies of Light and Dark.  Several reluctant members of
the Committee to Remove Usenet Diseases gather by the fence, and with low
murmurs march off to track down AL2048, once again. 

They find him standing near "Did the mod group kill B5? (Was Re: How old
are you?)".  He is flapping his arms and crowing, a sharp shrill sound,
like an emasculated rooster.  The straps of his straightjacket, which he
has bitten through in his escape, slap against his head each time he raises
his arms.  He does not notice.  His fly is open, and projecting out of his
pants is a 4-foot styrofoam-tube pool toy. 

He grins at the members of C.R.U.D. as they walk up to him.  Most of his
teeth are missing.  Captain Infinity bops him behind the left ear with the
kazoo. He falls into an ungainly heap.  

"This time," Captain Infinity mumbles, "let's do it right."

They hustle Al into the C.A.R.  John Dilick tries to floor it until it is
pointed out to him that C.A.R. is an acronym for Corrective Action Room.
Al is placed on an examination table.  The straightjacket is removed, his
arms are crossed over his chest, and his wrists are tied to opposing table
legs.  Jaime DeCastellvi tosses the pool toy aside and rips off Al's pants.
The members of C.R.U.D. all gasp in horror.  TheWitch faints. 

From high above them, a tiny shriek can be heard from behind the 2-way
observation mirror.  In the room behind the mirror, Jay Denebeim is pressed
against the glass, leaving a trail of saliva as he licks the window, his
hips rhythmically bumping against it.

Below, trying desperately to keep from wretching, Captain Infinity gasps
"Turn him over."  Al is untied, and unceremoniously flipped on his stomach,
his arms now crossed beneath him.  His arms are retied.  The hot coffee
enema treatment is begun.  Another little shriek is heard from the room
overhead.  "Cover that up, please," Dirk Loedding requests.  LisaB drapes a
towel over Al's hindquarters, but before returning to the head of the table
she stares at Captain Infinity and says, "Hey, too late this time, but next
time you're working on one of your bizarre fantasies, LEAVE ME OUT!"  The
other members of C.R.U.D. hesitate for a second, then all say, "Me too." 

On the table, Al regains consciousness and begins hiccupping.  

>when I took the complaint to rastb5,
>you said to me that, even though you did not 
>see what good my posting style would give me, I should continue to state my
>anti-mod beliefs anyway.
>So, while some anti-mod people were against me, *you* were, to some extent, on
>my side.  

A thin line of saliva trails from his toothless mouth.

"We should get this over with," David Stinson suggests.  "I have to get
back to the flame war in Satai."  He picks up one of the tubes hanging from
the nearby tanks, inserts a pointed metal sleeve onto the end of it, and
jams it into Al's right ear.  Captain Infinity does the same with his left
ear.  John Schilling turns on the tank's power systems, and the contents of
AL2048's cranium is slowly emptied and replaced by a quantity of chocolate

The towel accidentally slips off of Al.  From the room above there comes a
louder shriek.  Cheryl Martin enters the room and tosses a bucket of cold
water on Jay.  He falls to the floor, flopping like a landed fish, his
pants around his ankles.  Cheryl waggles her eyebrows like Groucho and says
"Sometimes a bucket of cold water is just a bucket of cold water." 

Below, the treatment is finishing.  Timothy Burke is on the phone to the
asylum, telling them the inmate has been processed and is ready for pickup.
The keeper of the Global Killfile responds that the warders are on their

"Maybe this time,"  Captain Infinity sighs, "they can hang onto him for
longer than a month."  The members of C.R.U.D. mutter in hopeless tones,
and walk away.

Alone in the C.A.R., Al giggles.

Captain Infinity

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