From: lonewolf@ziplink.net (Dark Jedi Maximi) Subject: [AS RASSM TURNS] Episode 798 (was Re: New Humor Thread) Date: Sat, 15 Feb 1997 19:41:06 GMT To understand this post, you should probably read Bas-Jan's reply to my post "New Humor Thread". ****************** In this episode of AS RASSM TURNS, Episode 798 "Look, sir... shrapnel!", Rich is hospitalized after being injured by an explosion from a car-bomb. Meanwhile, Eric is wallowing in jail, suspected of the bombing, and is being uselessly advised by Bas-Jan, who is charging an arm and a leg. At the same time, Max, showing little signs of sadness at his father's pain, is making nice with Amara, who is vulnerable after being fired from her job in Canada. And Rakelle is having trouble with usher... ***************** Inside of a hospital room, Max sits silently, looking bored, reading the latest issue of CUNNING YOUNG HEIRS MONTHLY. His father Rich is sleeping contentedly. Rich starts to stir, and Max looks up. "Son... you have to find who did this to me..." Rich moans, reaching toward his son who is just over an arm's length away. "Yeah... whatever, Rich," Max replies, not showing any interest. "Why don't you call me father, son?" "Because, RICH, you were never a real father to me. I've changed my name and try to become someone better. You're lucky I don't just walk away..." "That reminds me. What was wrong with the name Amy?" "Rich, I'm a man now, and Amy doesn't really convey my manliness too well." "Well, son, could you at least hand me a news paper?" "Sure," Max says, displaying a sense of aloofness unrivaled in one who has nearly lost his father, "here you go." Rich looks over the paper slowly. "Hmm... the rate for womps are up... great! At least there is something going well for me!" The increased womp rate pleases Rich, as he is one of the top womp dealers in the world. His womps can be found in some of the most famous households in the world. Max slowly stands up and exits the room. Trotting speedily, he heads to the pay phone at of the emergency room hallway. He picks it up and dials. "Damn, where is he? He can't be out..." ********************** "Hey, Bycer, you've got a phone call!" the guard cries, waking many of the inmates at the RASSM City Correctional Facility. Eric lifts his head and turns away from Bas-Jan, who is counseling him on how to plead not guilty. Eric steps up and waits for the guard to unlock his cell. He side-steps out and heads over to the phone. Cautiously, he stares at the phone before picking it up. "Hello... who is it?" Eric says shyly. "It's me, you stupid." Bycer lets out a frustrated sigh and continues, "Oh. Hello." "I paid you to kill him. But you failed." "I didn't do the job... I, uh, handed it over to someone else." "Well, who then? I need to know. My father is still alive and I want to be sure of whose fault it was when I kill the person whose responsible." "It was another bomber. Her name..." Eric is cut off by the voice on the other end. "Her?!?" "Uh, yeah, her. Her alias is 'Rimrunner'." "What's her real name?!? How am I supposed to look her up in the phonebook so I can kill her without her name?!? "First name... Genevieve." "Jennifer?" "Nooo... Genevieve." "Is that with a J?" "No, it's, uh, oh screw it! I give up! Eric lets the phone drop and walks away, back to his cell where Bas-Jan is waiting for him. "I've figured a good strategy for us, Eric," Bas-Jan gleefully exclaims, "we're going to say you are not guilty, then use evidence to prove it!" Eric lets out a yelp, and goes on to cry like a school girl... ******************* usher snaps up from sleeping, awakening Rakelle. He is sweating profusely, and appears to have been having a nightmare. "What's wrong, dear?" Rakelle says quietly. "I just had a dream about my butt again, honey. I was getting laughed at by all my friends for having a misshapen tush." "You see, pump'in, you should really get that rebutting surgery!" "Look, I don't need it, okay!" "Just listen to me, Michael..." usher shoots a dark glance at Rakelle, causing her to slide away from him. "I told you never, ever to call me that!!! I AM USHER!!!!" He then starts drooling, and he slips into a fetal position. Sobs pour from Rakelle's eyes, and under her breath she mutters, "If only he would get rebutted..." ******************* COMMERCIAL BREAK TO BE CONTINUED... ____________________________________________________________________ From: Rakelle Subject: Re: [AS RASSM TURNS] Episode 798 (was Re: New Humor Thread) Date: Sat, 15 Feb 1997 21:12:55 +0100 [snip] Great story; but I just wanted to add a lil' something... >>:) > TO BE CONTINUED... ******************* In the dead of night, somebody snuck out of usher's house and around the corner. A voice spoke out of the shadows. "Does he suspect?" "No, I don't think so, I..." "You've been sobbing. And acting timid." She looked away. "But I, yub nub," "Pokker ta deg! You're slipping! Don't ever let me hear you use ewokese again! How you managed to fool them both this long I really don't know..." "I'm sorry, I won't do it again..." "And don't get too attached to your new victim -or his 'cute' butt. His ewok allergy might flare up again you know..." She nodded silently and went back to the house. As the door shut, a human twice the ewok's height stepped out of the shadows and ran across the street. The longhorns were restless. *********************** TO BE CONTINUED _____________________________________________________________________________ From: you@somewhere.intime (usher) Subject: Re: [AS RASSM TURNS] Episode 798 (was Re: New Humor Thread) Date: Tue, 18 Feb 1997 20:56:47 GMT *********************** usher awoke alone. He wiped the drool from his face. 'Darned allergies. I wish she wouldn't wear those dang Ewok fur slippers all the time.' He slipped out of bed and headed to the bathroom for some cold water. 'I don't care what she says. I don't need the surgery. I just need to flex my mental muscles and I'll be OK. I'm sure of it.' Rakelle returned down the hall. "Where were you?" he inquired. "I was, I just needed some fresh air." "I could open a window." "Nug" "Pardon?" "Uh, no thanks." 'Must concentrate. I need sleep.' "You sure? It'd be no trouble." "I'm sure. You coming back to bed?" "I'll be in in a little while." "Don't stay up too late." Rakelle proceeded to the bedroom. "I won't." usher went to the livingroom, turned the stereo on low and powered up his Joy Systems. He had heard that the Womp-King Handley had been nearly killed by a car bomb and that a one Eric Bycer was being held as the main suspect. He was sure that Eric hadn't done it but he couldn't figure out who would want Rich dead, or even why. Rich was arguably the most gregarious occupant of RASSM City. He had named his son Amy after a good friend of the same name, but he didn't think it any worse than that old Johnny Cash song about "A Boy Named Sue". This thinking wasn't getting him anywhere. What he really needed to consider was his causing the breakup of Rakelle's marriage to Gerthein. Was the marriage doomed already and he just gave it the final push? Or was he actually the cause? Had the scandal already hurt Gerthein's acting career? And why were his allergies acting up so much lately? What was new? He hadn't always been so sensitive around Rakelle. ___________________________________________________________________________ From: Amara Subject: Re: [AS RASSM TURNS] Episode 798 (was Re: New Humor Thread) Date: Sat, 15 Feb 1997 20:21:10 +0000 *-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*- In a dramatically darkend room in a soft focus, Amara sits on a couch playing with an R2D2 action figure.. As Max walks in she poses dramatically. "alas, Maximi, I have not a thing to do! I wish to continue my Jedi training, but I have been told I have dark side tendencies due to my spontaneous transformations into a Fox shark (see http://rat.org/pub/furry/pronamy/ap_gnar.gif or this will make no sense!)" She sighs and pus Artoo on the table with her other Star Wars toys, "Whatever shall I do!" Max walks over to the couch with an accompaniment of cheezy music, he kneels next to her, "Ah Amara... You will find a master that will not mind your strange obsession with Cold cuts and rocky road ice cream..." Amara Swoons and smiles, her eyes twinkling... "Oh Max.. you are so kind!" She picks up a stuffed Ewok and gives it a hug, "Now.. where will I find a worthy master.. I know... What about Rich Rich?" She ponders this... _____________________________________________________________________________ From: lonewolf@ziplink.net (Dark Jedi Maximi) Subject: Re: [AS RASSM TURNS] Episode 798 (was Re: New Humor Thread) Date: Sun, 16 Feb 1997 14:41:45 GMT Max smiles a devishly grin. "I don't think Rich will be around for much longer, Amara... but, you know, I might know of quite the worthy master..." "Well, then who, Max? If they are as great as you, I'll be pleased..." Max starts laughingly maniacly. It is then interrupted by a coughing fit, and Amara moves into comfort him... "HAHAHAHAHAHA!" ____________________________________________________________________________ From: Amara Subject: Re: [AS RASSM TURNS] Episode 798 (was Re: New Humor Thread) Date: Mon, 17 Feb 1997 22:38:30 +0000 Amara seeks and hands Max some cough medicine, "Take this, you'll feel better." she smiles, "So mighty one, who do you have in mind.. and you know.. I heard an interesting rumour.." Max gacks at the icky tasting medicine and looks up, "Oh, what rumour is that.." Amara smiles and stands up, she paces to the end of the room and spins on her heel, accompanied by that music that NBC plays on itsshow commercials when somethign dramatic is about to happen.. "I understand your real name isn't Max.." she grins.. and waits for a response. ___________________________________________________________________________ From: Dark Rendar Subject: Re: [AS RASSM TURNS] Episode 798 (was Re: New Humor Thread) Date: Sun, 16 Feb 1997 20:30:08 -0500 Across from the RASSM City Correctional Facility, Dark Rendar sat in his 1993 Candy-Apple Red Chevy Blazer, reading the day's newspaper. The headline read "RICH HANDLEY CAR-BOMBED: SUSPECT IN CUSTODY". DR thought it a sharp and cunning article, expertly written, and the fact that it was written by HIMSELF made it all the more appealing. Dark Rendar worked for the RASSM Post (how fitting), the city's top newspaper, and he was one of the organization's finest investigative reporters. Glancing over the front page and looking at the headlines, including one that said "LONGHORN FOUND IN RESIDENTIAL DISTRICT", DR waited with his partner, who sat in the passenger seat eating a box of Clusters cereal. Barq, although he WAS a squirrel, was invaluable to DR because he could go places that a "normal" media person couldn't. Suddenly, things started to happen out on the steps leading to the Correctional Facility. A phalnax of guards led out a person dressed in an ugly business suit. As if on cue, doors to cars lining the street opened as one, and reporters and cameramen boiled out, surrounding the hapless man and his guards. DR, dressed in a black trenchcoat and fedora, with Barq on his shoulder, fought his way through the *throng* to the front of the pack. "Mr. Bas-Jan," a reporter from the Chronicle was saying, "is your defendant, Eric Bycer, guilty of trying to murder Rich Handley, respected citizen, last night?" Bas-Jan replied quickly, "Of course not, you bufoons! My client is as innocent as child caught with his hand in the cookie jar! Oh, wait..." he stammered. Dark Rendar pressed the point. "So, then are you implying that there is evidence against your client?" "NO!!!!..." Bas-Jan screamed, but then looked confused. "... comment," he said, finishing the sentence. "No comment." The guards started to push their way through the group, heading for a squad car on the street, with the reporters firing questions all the way. "Is Bycer guilty?" "Isn't it true that Eric was seen talking with a hooded person the night before the murders?" "What connection, if any, does this case have with the sudden appearance of cattle in the city?" "Isn't it true that you, sir, have never actually taken a case to court, and had your title given to you by Rich Handley via e-mail?" "Isn't it true that Rich Handley was cured of a flea infestation in the bomb's blast?" Dark Rendar hung back, watching Bas-Jan deflect questions. Soon, he was in the squad car, which sped away quickly into the city. Some reporters raced to their cars to follow, while others milled around the entrance, planning strategy. But DR simply grinned, and headed for his red Blazer, intent on just going back to his office at the Headquarters and waiting. His job was done now. In the commotion, no one had seen Barq leave DR's shoulder and scamper through the front doors of the Correctional Facility. The scoop of the story would be DR's soon enough. __________________________________________________________________________ From: happosai6@aol.com Subject: Re: [AS RASSM TURNS] Episode 798 (was Re: New Humor Thread) Date: 17 Feb 1997 22:01:31 GMT In a dark room (aren't they all) lit from below by lights that cannot be seen in the long shot there is a meeting between Happy and a sinister force. "I want you to kill him, I do not care how, but by noon tomorrow (RASSM fake time, not REALLY tuesday feb18 1997) I want to see Max DEAD! He has had affairs with all my children!" "It will cost you Happy." says the sinister force. "I am the richest person in all of RASSM city, otherwise known as Pleasant Cove or some such thing. No I wasn't always rich, I was once a poor man who lived on the streets, but hey, they needed a rich guy (not to be confused with the guy Rich) and I offered to be him. I wasn't right for the part so they put me in a coma, but after I won that daytime emmy for coma acting they reconsidered. Oh boy did they ever, I was no street looser then! I was an acting force to be reconed with!" "Why," asks the sinister force,"did you tell me all this?" "Because I thought that the first paragraph was a bit short and I wanted to make the post worth reading, like a good meal as opposed to a tasty snack." "Okay..." "Tomorrow by noon, Gerthein. I want him dead." _______________________________________________________________________________ From: lonewolf@ziplink.net (Dark Jedi Maximi) Subject: Re: [AS RASSM TURNS] Episode 798 (was Re: New Humor Thread) Date: Mon, 17 Feb 1997 16:19:30 GMT This one's for you, Gerthein ;) Gerthein sat in his pink miata, chomping on perfectly fried chicken wings from KFC. His face and hands were greasy, and he was in his seventh heaven. A raspy voice sounded, "Open up..." It startled Gerthein and he spilled her chicken wings. "Damn. What do you want?" Gerthein looked up and immediately froze. There was a large man in front of the window, with reddish hair and beard. "I've got a job for you." The man handed Gerthein a manilla envelope. "The longhorns. Exterminated." Gerthein popped open the envelope and viewed the contents. Cash. He smiled. "Sure. Whatever. How do I contact you?" Gerthein looked up, but the man was gone. "What a weirdo... I guess this cut's my vacation short..." Gerthein fired up her miata and rode down the street... "Destination: Texas." _______________________________________________________________________________ From: lonewolf@ziplink.net (Dark Jedi Maximi) Subject: Re: [AS RASSM TURNS] Episode 798 (was Re: New Humor Thread) Date: Mon, 17 Feb 1997 22:53:43 GMT Gerthein drove and drove, enjoying the majestic scenery of... Texas. Bored by the calmness of it all, he decided to examine the contents of the manilla envelope given to him by Har... uh, I mean the mysterious man. "AAACCCK!" he cried upon emptying the package. Gerthein was repulsed at the site of seeing that it was filled with monopoly money. "Until that clown from UT (the other one) gives me real payment, I ain't doing nothing. I guess I'll go take care of that OTHER job over in RASSM City." Gerthein fishtailed the car around and drove off... Destination: RASSM City. Next Episode: "Just the FAQs, Ma'am" or "The FAQs of Life" ______________________________________________________________________________ From: gerthein@worldaccess.nl (Gerthein Boersma) Subject: Re: [AS RASSM TURNS] Episode 798 (was Re: New Humor Thread) Date: Tue, 18 Feb 1997 13:05:04 GMT Okay, here comes my segment. Note that I didn't paint the car ;-). Tell me what you think. Oh, and I only just read Happy's addition (having already written this, and I'm too pressed for time to change it all now), so I (or someone else, i'm sure) will work it in next time. Suggestion: perhaps it's just an "imposter-gerthein" in Happy's scene? That would be *very* soap-opera! _______________ Racing through the streets of RASSM-city in his pink miata, Gerthein was talking over his cell-phone in an excited tone of voice. "So you want me to find out who car-bombed Rich Handley? So you can blackmail that person? Yes, you say? You mean it's not that Bycer guy? No you say? So you're saying in the meantime you'll blackmail Max with knowledge of his real name? So now your asking me why I'm repeating everything you say? Well, that's just a simple plot device so the viewers at home can hear what we're talking about without having to hear or see the other side of the conversation, thus not giving away who the ever-mysterious caller is. So you understand? Okay, Amara, the payment will be 20,000 in cash, plus comprising paintings of Rakelle and usher, which I can use during the divorce settlement! Okay, you agree, okay bye!". Gerthein almost hung up the phone, then quickly added "AND I DON'T WANT MONOPOLY MONEY!". "Holy sh*t!". Gerthein almost hit a cow as he zoomed through the RASSM city gates. As he looked behind him to the confused cattle rapidly dissappearing in the distance, he thought to himself that driving around while talking through a cell-phone was just too dangerous. He'd have to ask his canadian friends to write a report on it, finding out just how risky. He decided to call them right now. Unfortunatly, they weren't home, so Gerthein left a message. *** Arriving at the RASSM-Correctional facility, Gerthein saw an incredible *throng* of reporters, camera-men and Bas-Jan Walewijk huddled at the door. Right, time to visit Bycer, current suspect of the now infamous "Womprate-bomming" of top womp dealer Rich Handley. To be honest, he doubted Amara was right in thinking Eric was innocent. In his experience, Bycer's were always trouble. One of 'em even scratched his miata once. Gerthein parked his car and threw an evil look in the direction of the As Rassm Turns camera. In his slyest of sly voices, he said: "I love bein' a Bad Guy!". *** Slipping past the throng of reporters and through the doors was easy, but once inside, Gerthein was greeted by another throng, made up enitrely of RASSM-Cf guards. "Hold it, pal! You wouldn't be here to pay Eric Bycer a visit, would ya?". "Whatever gave you that idea?" Gerthein said mockingly. "Well, there's been a whole throng of reporters by today, tryin' to slip by us to get a quote from Mr. Bycer. We're pretty sick and tired of it!". Gerthein sighed. "You got me there, pal. I just wanted a quote too. But here, be sure to give him this RASSM newspaper-pen, that writes in 400 different colors AND is totally free of any radio-bugs!" "Gee, thanks! I'll do that! I'm sure he'll like it!", the head guard said gleefully, putting the pen in his breast pocket. Gerthein smiled sarcastically (like so: ;-), but that smile soon faded as a little squirrel suddenly hopped onto the guards shoulder, quickly took the pen out of his breast pocket and promptly hopped away down the hall. "HEY! GIVE BACK MY BUG.. ehm I mean pen." Gerthein yelled, pushing aside the throng of guards with sudden super-strength and running after the irritating little critter. The chase lead Gerthein all the way up to the 13th floor, where the lil' fella had climbed out a window and onto a flagpole, and starting biting on the pen. "Oh, just perfect! He's on a flagpole! Thanks a lot, God!" Gerthein said to himself, and promptly started to climb the flagpole. Down below he saw the throng of reporters and Bas-Jan had all left, although a small group of journalists was still there, and was now curiously looking up. Don't look down, Gerthein thought. "Here kitty, here kitty." Gerthein motioned the squirrel closer, as the critter, seemingly unaware of the oncoming human, continued his wanton destruction of a perfectly good bugged pen. Gerthein inadvertantly looked down again, and now saw that a whole new throng of reporters and other onlookers had formed, and all were staring at the flagpole. "Gotcha!". With one fell swoop, Gerthein had grabbed the squirrel. "Now to get back...". Suddenly, the flagpole began to groan under the intense weight of Gerthein. "Damn! I never should've ordered that last plate of chicken wings from KFC!" he said, as the pole began to bend and.. break, until it had broken clean off! Plummeting 13 floors down, Gerthein could only yell "Thaaaank you Gooooooooooood!!!!!". * * * "Look, LOOK! He's coming to!" "Wubbewubbe..waar ben ik?" Gerthein mumbled incoherently. He opened his eyes and saw a whole throng of people surrounding him. Reporters, camera-men.. one of them spoke to him.. a tidy looking fellow, wearing a black top-hat and a three-piece suit. And he was carrying a huge key-shaped piece of card-board under his arm. "Mr. Gerthein Boersma, you have just risked your life to save a helpless squirrel in need! RASSM City owes you a debt of gratitude! As the major of this fine place, may I present you with the Key to the City, as well as present you with the title 'All around good guy'.". "NO!" Gerthein yelled, as the entire throng burst into applause "That CAN'T be true! It's NOT POSSIBLE! I don't want to be a GOOD guy! I LOVE being a Bad Guy! NOOOOOOOOO!". A zooming out helicopter shot shows a hysterically crying Gerthein as the throng members continue to applaud, each shaking his hand in turn. The squirrel, of course, is nowhere to be seen. TO BE CONTINUED _______________________________________________________________________________