Subject:    The Hunting of the Peep
From:       "Plain, Simple, Blackhawk."
Newsgroups: alt.fan.tom-servo,rec.arts.sf.tv,rec.arts.startrek.current
Message-ID: <janosprohaska-AC5B6F.11274924032002@t02.atl2.usenetserver.com>

 
                       THE HUNTING OF THE PEEP.

                            By Blackhawk

*************************************************************************
 

It was Tuesday after lunch, when our trio left to find,
The treasure, which they sought, a dream so sublime.
Wherever they'd post, people often threw fits,
This was strange since the three were just 'lectronic bits.

With a spaceship, some duck tape, and a large plastic lexan,
"Wahoo! Let's peep!" Said the one they called Texan.
"Hawkaa!" said the Hawk, then they both turned to see,
What kind of response came from member number three?

"Telepathic they are," The Captain did warn,
"Our thoughts, we must hide," he added with scorn.
"Marshmallow sweet, and only Just Born,
And tasty they are, of inhibition, you are shorn."

"In your mind, will they melt. All the talk, it will cease,
All the cards will be dealt. Get we all will, some peace.
'Trolls!' Cry they will, 'Uncle,' will they say,
Like Hitler, work it will. It turns always out that way."

"Pay attention" said The Hawk as he sucked on a soda,
"Besides, talk you must, like that strange fellow Yoda?"

They sailed past the newsgroups, they looked low and high,
They searched for their quarry, "They've no place to hide."
On through the Usenet, past the alt.* hierarchy,
Till they found the one they called rec.arts.sf.tv

Big grins went around as the brave trio observed,
All types of fan-meat, just waiting to be served.
FarScapers were still asking "What about Zahn,"
Which was really quite odd, as the shows never on.

Fans of Buffy, Dark Angel and don't forget LEXX
Were insisting to others that it's not about sex.
While Theron, and Thaxton, and Ol'Bobby Fuller,
Were trolling away, and still yelling "Filler!"

When the trio spied a topic so juicy it oozed,
With boredom, frustration, and strongly held views.

Loaded with Trekkies and big techno-boobs,
It was one step away from Hitler and Jews.
The thread dealt with "Enterprise", and whether or not,
It was breakthrough TV, or the usual rot.

It started with a Bozo who posted a nit,
But was then commandeered, by Christians and Twits
Arguing whether T'was the head of a pin,
Where God's Angels danced, or Dylithium?

It morphed down from there to a new thread about,
Which port on the ship is the crews "sewage spout,"
And if weapons were out, and the shields were down,
Could they fire all that shit? Would all Kling-ons drown?

They calculated relative range and velocity,
Extrapolated splatter, based on viscosity.

They argued if Methane would poison their air,
Then Tim joined the thread, it went downhill from there.
A flame-war erupted, the absurdist by far,
As to whose shit was stronger, Defiant or White Star.

The Texan's eyes sparkled, "Just look at those creeps!"
The Captain rubbed his hands, "They're begging for Peeps!"
So he posted a troll, so subtle with whimsy,
He disguised his voice, to sound like a kiddie.

He asked if it's true, Minbar shit comes with horns,
And if having diarrhea, means their rectum gets torn?
And if so, then surely, Worf's had much more spikes,
And the pain that it caused, he might even like?

"But if pain is the scale used to measure our might,
Then I must say that Star Trek sure wins the fight!"

"In fact if we took all the goop that's produced,
By, Bragga and Barga, and Berman - that goose -
And fired it out of the nearest airlock,
It would be the strongest, that's no shit Sherlock!"

Then he said he was sorry, But he had to go pee,
And he .sig'd very coyly "Billy Thompkins, Age Three."
They roared with approval, those with a brain,
The sting of Cap's satire was simple and plain.

But those who had brains the size of a tumor,
And lacking of anything called "sense of humor".
Took umbrage with nearly each word Ol' Cap said,
They called him bad names, "He's sick in the head."

And those on the sidelines watching the show,
Kept posting their LOL's, and saying "Go Captain, go!"

Several took it apart and refuted each line,
So the trio got ready, they knew it was time.
They took the last post, 500 lines deep,
And reposted it all, followed only by... "*peep*"

Then The Texan followed up and peeped something nasty,
The Hawk followed up and peeped them with ASCII.
The Captain peeped sideways; you could see their heads spin,
Then he called a Jihad, the KPS all piled in.

Of The Kamikaze Peep Squad, it often is said,
They Peep boring threads, and then eat the dead.

So they peeped them with poetry, the puns made you wilt,
They peeped them with logic, semantics and Filk!
With these dolts finally driven to heated response,
They'd wackylace the answers or parse them all wrong.

So at last they would leave in complete exasperation,
As the brave trio celebrated this threads expiration!
It was clear with the Peeps - Truth and Justice would win,
Said The Hawk to The Texan "Who the hell needs Godwin?"

Then The Captain shouted out, "Oh frabjous day!"
The Texan and The Hawk yelled, "Callooh, Callay!"
And I heard them exclaim as they sailed out of sight,
"We do Usenet performance art - always just right!"

And that is our story, T'was quite literary,
The work of a giant - Your Mileage May Vary.

Just beware should your threads suffer from "mission creep,"
There is nothing more deadly than a well-timed Peep!

*peep*

--
Plain, Simple, Blackhawk
KPS SITI


  

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