From: lonewolf@ziplink.net (Max Silvestri) Subject: [AS RASSM TURNS] Episode 800 Date: Fri, 07 Mar 1997 01:49:39 GMT Hello, folks and welcome to the 800th Episode Spectacular of AS RASSM TURNS. This episode, entitled "Mine's Bigger", may well spell the end of a very important character! Also, who will get to keep usher? If Gerthein's Max's brother, then isn't Berthein Max's brother, too? What the hell's Paula doing? Where in god's name are James Watson and Rimrunner? And WHO WILL GET THE HANDY HANDLEY FORTUNE?!? * * * * * * * * * Max and Amara slowly walked down the beach together, viewing the beautiful coastline. Amara looked puzzled. "Since when was RASSM City on the coast? "You silly girl," Max laughed, "this isn't a REAL beach, this is the world famous RASSM City Indoor Beach. See, that's why there's a giant wall 100 yards out to shore, behind the beach on the other side of the complex." Amara seemed satisfied with the painfully obvious answer. She eyed Max. "Do you know what?" Amara chirped. Max obviously didn't. "I would just LOVE some pudding!" Max's face turned a ghostly pale. "How could -- I never -- that's impossible!" Max screamed in agony. * * * * * * * * * Usher was heartily enjoying his dinner. He tossed his head in a contented manner. "Umm... beefy!" Rakelle smiled, rotating the pan she held over the stove. "I see like the MANWICHES I made you, honey!" She looked over, and usher nodded his head once more. His shirt was stained with meaty goodness. A ringing pervaded the silence. Rakelle picked it up. She immediately looked nervous, and brought the quiet conversation into a separate room. When she came back in, her desire to look calm did not hide the sadness inside of her. Rakelle hung the phone up and climbed up the stairs. A few minutes later, she returned, this time toting a duffle bag. Usher looked confused (more than normal), "Where are you going?" Rakelle's cheeks were tear-stained. "I have to go for a while..." * * * * * * * * * Sweat dripped down Eric's face. He was collapsed on the jail basketball court, and he wheezed, seemingly grasping for air. A large black man carrying a basketball approached him. "Bycer, that's 20 out of 39. Now where's my 500 bucks?!?" Eric made a pitiful attempt to speak. "I'm *wheez* kind of in *wheez* jail and *hack, hack, hack* broke." He was desperate for cash, and feeding his bologna fetish was much more costly while incarcerated. Though he was cheated out of his money, the surly black man smiled. "Time to hit the showers, Bycer...." * * * * * * * * * The convenience store was amuck. The aisles had collapsed, and people were trampling over each other to escape. A lightsaber whizzed this way and that, cutting down whatever was in its path. At the helm of this destruction was Dark Jedi Chicken Boo, sporting a trendy overcoat. Boo caught glimpse of a man cowering in the corner. Easy prey, thought the Dark Jedi. He walked slowly towards his next victim. But, as luck would have it (for the townspeople), Chicken Boo's overcoat got caught on an attractive Norwegian Wood gun rack. The coat was ripped from Boo's shoulders. The store became silent, and people gasped. Whispers were about. Then a brave fellow stood and screamed, "Why, he's no Dark Jedi. He's a mere chicken!" Suddenly, the mob lost it's fear, and started toward the "mere chicken". Boo was in trouble. * * * * * * * * * Karno fumbled with the straight jacket. "Have to remember -- struggling only makes it tighter." Karno struggled. He needed to get out... TO BE CONTINUED... ________________________________________________________________________________ From: you@somewhere.intime (usher) Subject: Re: [AS RASSM TURNS] Episode 800 Date: Mon, 10 Mar 1997 19:03:04 GMT > Rakelle's cheeks were tear-stained. "I have to go for a >while..." "Go where?" "Out." usher grabbed her arm and turned her around to face him. "Where are you going?" " I- I-" she looked at the floor "I wish I could tell you, but I can't." "Can't or Won't?" "I really can't. I-" usher interrupted, "It's because of the surgery isn't it? It didn't turn out as well as you hoped so you're leaving me for someone else with a better rebuttal aren't you? AREN'T YOU?" "No. I- you wouldn't understand." "Wouldn't I?" "I'm just not who you think I am!" With that she turned and fled out the front door letting it slam behind her. usher just stood there befuddled. His sinuses were already clearing up. "At least she took those damn slippers with her." He slumped against the wall not caring that he really should wash his shirt before the stain set in. That's how he found himself the next morning when there was an impertinate knock at the front door. ________________________________________________________________________________ From: gerthein@worldaccess.nl (Gerthein Boersma) Subject: Re: [AS RASSM TURNS] Episode 800 Date: Sat, 08 Mar 1997 12:30:53 GMT "Weeellll...That was different.." Gerthein said to himself as he walked down a hallway of RASSM Hospital. "But I still have to find out who the hell assaulted Big Daddy Handley so I can collect my payment from Amara AND secure the inheritence, all the while avoiding my Evil Twin brother Berthein whom I now know to be in this very Hospital. Now that I have adequatly summed up the plot, let's investigate a few leads..". *BUMP*! "Hey watch we're you're going you ugly.." Gerthein yelled to the person he had just run into... "...well, actually your quite good-lookin' cause.. YOU LOOK EXACTLY LIKE ME! SHOCK! HORROR!" "Oota Goota Boersma," Berthein replied, "At last we meet. Last time I saw you you abandoned me, when we were hauling a cargo of illegal animal-shaped condoms for Big Ernie, back in episode 669, 'Ernie's Rubber Ducky'. Why didn't that appear in last weeks flash-back episode, anyway?" "I-I guess it's because the show changed writers at that time, and the new team found that particular storyline to be too sick and bizarre.." the still startled Gerthein replied, "But seeing as the network is crying out for additions to the special, perhaps they'll do it incredibly soon..." "Yeah, well, anyway.." Berthein shook of the topic, "Big Ernie don't like no smugglers that dump their load on the first sign of trouble.. and neither do I! But I may only take your miata.. heheh.". "NOOO! Not my miata!" Gerthein screamed in horror, but Berthein drew his Walter PPK and continued to smile devilishly.. "I've been looking forward to this for a long time..". "Yes, I bet you have." Gerthein suddenly said calmly, then quickly drawing his AK47. RATATAT, a few moments later, Berthein was no more than a bloody pulp before he had even had the oppurtunity to squeeze off a shot. Then Gerthein noticed the security camera on the opposite wall. Gerthein adjusted his shades, groomed his hair, and posed for the camera for a moment as he delivered his line: "Sorry 'bout the mess..". The moment was short-lived however, as security guards swarmed in from all over the place. They quickly handcuffed the startled Gerthein and dragged him down the hall. Gerthein lost his cool.. "WAAAH? HEY! It was SELF DEFENSE! It's the network's fault! They wanted more violence, more ratings! LEMME GO!!! DAMN IT! WHY ME, GOD?" TO BE CONTINUED ________________________________________________________________________________ From: gerthein@worldaccess.nl (Gerthein Boersma) Subject: Re: [AS RASSM TURNS] Episode 800 Date: Sat, 08 Mar 1997 15:38:49 GMT >"WAAAH? HEY! It was SELF DEFENSE! It's the network's fault! They >wanted more violence, more ratings! LEMME GO!!! DAMN IT! WHY ME, GOD?" "Look Ernie, next time you want to talk to me, come see me yourself. Don't send one of these twirps.". "Gert, Gert! First of all, I *did* come to see you myself. I’m here, aren't I? Second of all, I didn't *send* Berthein, he was apparently there on some other business. And third of all, no-one uses the word 'twirp' anymore! It's so seventies!". Gerthein sighed. "So are you gonna post my bail, Ernie?" he said to the mobster at the other side of the glass, "I need to get out of here ASAP! This is the anniversary episode! I can't spend it by being locked up here all the time!". "I wasn't born one episode ago, Gerthein!" Ernie replied angrily, "Do you think I'm going to post bail for someone who still owes me $2000 bucks due to a failed condom-run? I came here for one reason only: to warn you. Get me the money within an episode, or die!". Insulted, the fat criminal stood up and began to walk out of the RASSM Police Station. "WAIT!" Gerthein yelled, banging on the glass, "Put up the bail, gimme a chance! I'm currently on a job that will allow me to pay you back double.. triple even! Yes, even quadro..quadru..qua.. FOUR TIMES AS MUCH! You're throwing away a fortune here, don't be a fool!!!". But it was too late, as before Gerthein had finished the sentence the mobster had already left the police station. A policeman walked up to return Gerthein to his cell. "Hey, blue-boy! I still haven't used my one phone-call!" Gerthein told him. "Oh, okay, use this cell phone", the man replied, "Gonna call Bas-Jan Walewijk? He's the best lawyer in town!". "He's the only lawyer in town." Gerthein dead-panned. "Heheh..That's right" the man-in-blue smirked, "And no lawyer's gonna do you any good anyways! We've got a video-tape made by a hospital security camera that shows you gunning down your twin brother in cold blood, without the least bit of provocation! You're going away for a long time!". "Just gimme the phone!" Gerthein replied, getting rather annoyed. He swiped the portable from the policeman's hands. "Alright already! You got five minutes to make your call!" the policeman said, then walked away to give Gerthein a little privacy. Gerthein watched him leave, then rapidly dialed the appropriate phone number. "Hello, Industrial Light and Magic? Gerthein Boersma here. I've got a job for ya.". TO BE CONTINUED... ________________________________________________________________________________ From: "Paula" Subject: Re: [AS RASSM TURNS] Episode 800 Date: 10 Mar 1997 17:24:19 GMT > What the hell's Paula doing? Paula, not giving a crap about people making fun of a 40-something woman being at a White Zombie concert, politely passed on the bud that was being offered her. "Might make my muscle relaxers and pain killers work too good. Don't want to be lying on the ground and get moshed on." Dazed and confused because the second hand smoke was getting to her, she started to leave when she noticed that the opening act was just finishing. They introduced the band. "... and Rimrunner on drums." "Geez, that's Rim up there. I didn't know her band was gonna open for White Zombie?" Paula shoved her way to the backstage entrance and was quickly stopped by a guard. "Where do you think you're going?" "Ummm (Paula thought fast) My daughter's back there. I need to talk to her." "You don't have a stage pass." said the guard, "You're not going in." "Damn, just what I need," thought Paula, "Some big ol' Gamorean Guard to stop me from getting to Rimrunner." "Hey Paula."came a voice from back stage. "What are you doing here?" Paula jumped up and down to see who was calling her. "Mikey... is that you?? Tell this big lunk that it's okay for me to come back." "Dude, let her in, she's okay." said Mikey. Paula squeezed her way backstage. "What the heck are you doing here, Mikey?" asked Paula. "I'm here with the radio station. We have a party going on in the back room, come on." Those were the last words Paula remembered... she woke up in the back seat of her station wagon WITH all her clothes on, but with one heck of a hang-over. "Damn... I swore I would never drink vodka again. Wait a minute... what day is this? and where am I?" to be cont...... ________________________________________________________________________________ From: me@here.com (Max Silvestri) Subject: Re: [AS RASSM TURNS] Episode 800 Date: Sun, 23 Mar 1997 22:49:49 GMT Alright, let's get this thing moving again. This one's for you, Rich. * * * * * * * * * Max and Gerthein sat quietly in the Handley Mansion Dining Hall. They were seated at opposite ends, sipping their tea silently. It was an awkward moment. Gerthein broke the silence by turning the page of his copy of "Wall Street Journal". Max followed it up by ruffling the pages of his "Celebrity Skin". He coughed. "So Gerthein, what do you plan to do now that you are a part of the Handley family?" The question was meaningless, but Max used it to cut through the heavy tension in the room. Gerthein looked thoughtful for a moment. He then smiled cunningly, startling Max. "I really want to send the Handley business in the right direction. Hype it up for the nineties. You know, give it that GenX look. I plan on making my proposal to the marketing division next week." Max's jaw nearly dropped. He hadn't expected a serious answer, but Gerthein had delivered. He stammered for words. "So -- so soon? My, you've only been here a matter of weeks?" Gerthein smiled once more. "I'm not getting any younger." At that moment, Rich burst into the room. His dress was jungle-themed, with his shirt Hawaiian and his shorts Bermuda. He carried his luggage in his hand. "Sons - I've got news for you. My survival through the car bomb has really given me a different perspective on things. Everything is too dangerous around here right now. I just can't think and run this business properly AND have to deal with threats on my life and other outside influences. I need time to think. I'm moving to the Amazon rain forest." Max and Gerthein sat speechless. Something clattered and splashed. It was there tea cups coming in contact with the Oriental rug while being influenced by gravity. Both tried to speak, but the tea cups didn't have mouths. A few meaningless syllables came out of Max and Gerthein's throats. Rich interpreted them. "Don't worry. I'll be fine. I think that I may start a banana stand on a popular tourist route. Got potassium, you know. Those hikers need energy, climbing 'round the mountains." He paused, but was offered no response. "If I see a phone, I'll think about calling." He then jogged over and hugged his two paralyzed sons. Their expressions didn't change. Nothing changed. Rich yelled as he ran out the door, "I'm leaving the business in your hands. Run it together. Ta-ta!" Max's statued form promptly lost it's balance and toppled over. It hit the ground hard. ________________________________________________________________________________ From: gerthein@worldaccess.nl (Gerthein Boersma) Subject: Re: [AS RASSM TURNS] Episode 800 Date: Mon, 24 Mar 1997 12:01:37 GMT DAMAGE CONTROL! DAMAGE CONTROL! ;-) > Max's statued form promptly lost it's balance and toppled >over. It hit the ground hard. Then, as he looked up, suddenly Gerthein Boersma seemed to flicker for a moment, and then he dissapeared into nothingness. Max remembered: Gerthein was still in jail! Max was hallucinating again. He really should get some sleep. TO BE CONTINUED.. ________________________________________________________________________________ From: starwars@ally.ios.com (Gray Leader) Subject: Re: [AS RASSM TURNS] Episode 800 Date: Sun, 23 Mar 1997 23:37:50 GMT Gray Leader sits silently at the helm of his Edsel-Class Star Destroyer, observing the fray below him. Rich Handley was somewhere in the Amazon. ("Lucky bastard," Gray Leader thinks. "I always did have a thing for those Amazon chicks.") Gerthein Boersma and Max Silvestri were still in the Handley Mansion Dining Room, stunned beyond speech, watching their tea seep its permanent way into the $100,000,000 Oriental carpet. Dark Lord Karno Dal was still struggling in his straitjacket. "I should give him a few tips about that," Gray Leader muses aloud. "I've been in and out of my share of straitjackets so far." Nobody even wants to _know_ where Eric Bycer is. Yes, it is truly a mass of disarray and confusion. The *perfect* time to strike. The *perfect* time.... ........ .............. .................... Muhahahahaha.................. ________________________________________________________________________________ From: me@here.com (Max Silvestri) Subject: Re: [AS RASSM TURNS] Episode 800 Date: Mon, 24 Mar 1997 00:35:02 GMT Remember.. we don't want another Sith War... No SW-esque battles... ________________________________________________________________________________ From: starwars@ally.ios.com (Gray Leader) Subject: Re: [AS RASSM TURNS] Episode 800 Date: Tue, 25 Mar 1997 23:15:34 GMT "Remember, we don't want another Sith War. No SW-esque battles." "Right, Max. Goodbye." Gray Leader angrily hung up the phone, slamming it down onto the cradle. "Damned jerk. Always trying to boss me around. I knew it, from Day One, that he would be this way throughout the whole thing. Stepping out of the booth, Gray Leader strode down the sidewalk, on the way to his private rendezvous point with Bas-Jan Walewijk, Eric Bycer's attorney. Coming up on the RASSM City Cafeteria, he stopped in. "Hi, I'll have a veggie burger, large fries, and a chocolate shake," said Gray Leader to the brain-dead clerk. "A what? What do you want?" "A veggie burger, large fries, and a chocolate shake." "Uh........wait, wait. You want a cheeseburger, two Diet Cokes, and an apple pie? Okay, that'll be 5 RASSM Bucks." Disgusted, Gray Leader threw the money down on the counter. "Yes. That's exactly what I ordered." He took the tray back to his table. He looked at the meal on the tray. It was a hot dog, onion rings, and an orange soda. "That moron can't even get his mistakes right," Gray Leader petulantly observed as he scanned the restaurant for Bas-Jan. He noticed a man in a trenchcoat, shades, and a Fedora hat in the booth across from him. He was staring intently at Gray Leader. Suddenly, a tall, thin man stepped through the doors. He was wearing a black suit and sunglasses. Gray Leader immediately recognized him, and all attention focused on the mysterious man across from him was quickly lost. "Bas-Jan!", Gray Leader shouted as he waved the man over excitedly. "Over here!" Annoyed, Bas-Jan sat down at the table. "I told you, don't use my name in public." Gray Leader smiled. "Bas-Jan!! Bas-Jan! We've got Bas-Jan here!!," he yelled as he frantically pointed in his direction. All of a sudden, all five of the restaraunt security guards pulled out their guns and pointed them at the attorney. "Okay Bas-Jan, you're coming with us. You're wanted for fraud." Bas-Jan shot Gray Leader a *look*. There was a stunned moment of silence, and then Gray Leader spoke up. "Uh...I was just kidding. This guy's name is...uh....Jan-Bas. Yeah, that's it. Jan-Bas Wijkwale." "Okay. But don't do that sort of thing again, son." "I'm not your son." "What did you say?" "I said, 'Okay, officer. Thank you very much.'" "I thought so." The guards holstered their pistols and went back to their posts. As Bas-Jan glared at Gray Leader, he said, "Okay. Let's get down to business." * * * * * * * * Next: Why was Gray Leader secretly meeting Bas-Jan? Why was Gray Leader speaking on the phone to "Max," and why was "Max" reminding him to stay away from "SW-esque battles?" And WHO WAS THE MAN ACROSS FROM GRAY LEADER????? All this and more, next: As RASSM Turns. ________________________________________________________________________________ From: me@here.com (Max Silvestri) Subject: Re: [AS RASSM TURNS] Episode 800 Date: Mon, 24 Mar 1997 23:24:24 GMT Bycer stood quietly. His hand was moving quietly along the concrete wall of the cramped RASSM City Jail cell. In his hand, he held the sharp-edged steel leg of the cot provided by the jail. His other hand was occupied in the pocket of his jail duds. They read "Eat at Joe's". RASSM City was not a rich one. With the leg, he carved in the aged walls of the jail the most meaningful and profound piece of prose every composed by man. It had come to him in a dream. Only part of the dream, though. The rest of his dream took place on a warm beach, with many bikini-wearing women gallivanting... But back to the story. The guards had yet to discover the dangerous tool Eric held. He had managed to use his Herculean strength to rip the bed apart. Eric stopped and viewed the tapestry of magnificence he had created. He smiled. His moment of happiness was interrupted by a knocking at the bars. It was Bas-Jan. Eric's exalted lawyer. Bas-Jan smiled at Eric. Eric's happiness had already been shattered and interrupted, and Bas-Jan's smile didn't change that. "I've got some evidence I think you'll be interested in." Eric stood, unfazed. "We may have proof of the identity... of the REAL bomber..." * * * * * * * * * The butler was kneeled, slowly and meticously picking up the pieces of the broken tea cup shattered along the carpet. A frown was upon his face. He thought out loud to himself. "Damn it. I can be a butler not much longer. I must make my move." He saw that he was alone and realized how silly he sounded. He quickly quieted himself, and continued his chore. At that moment, Max walked into the dining hall and alerted his presence to the butler. "Excuse me," he exclaimed, "be a pal and get me some candy, James." The butler, James, simply nodded. "Not much longer," he thought. * * * * * * * * * SOON: Which James is it? ________________________________________________________________________________ From: Dark Rendar Subject: Re: [AS RASSM TURNS] Episode 800 Date: Wed, 26 Mar 1997 21:21:09 -0500 Nighttime at the Handley estate. Dark Rendar was parked out in front in his red Chevy Blazer, across from the driveway to the huge Handley Mansion. He checked his watch, and nervously cracked his knuckles.... this was unnerving. But, if it worked, DR might be able to discover where Handley was and who was after him. But he needed to be patient... Barq, DR's squirrel assistant, clung precariously to a limb on an oak tree. It hung tantalizingly over an open window in an upstairs bedroom of the estate. Crossing his little squirrel fingers, Barq leaped into the air and directly through the opening to crash noisily into a lamp. The room was occupied, but, luckily, Max was asleep and snoring loudly. He had needed his sleep; he was hallucinating Gerthein all day. Barq extracted himself from the lamp and dropped quickly to the floor, scampering towards the hallway. Peeking out, he noticed a wooden double door with golden handles. They had an "H" embossed on them. The little squirrel sped towards the doors. Suddenly, behind him, he heard footsteps coming up the staircase. Leaping into a nearby fern plant, Barq hid breathlessly as James, the butler, walked by and opened the double doors slowly. As he stepped through, Barq took the opportunity and slipped through behind the butler, taking refuge behind a leather chair. James, totally unaware of the little spy, picked up the gold-handled phone and dialed a number. Barq hastily assembled a listening device and placed it under a chair. Dark Rendar, in the Blazer, suddenly had an ear in the room. Hitting the record button on the dashboard, he caught the conversation just in time. "Post Gerthein's bail," the butler said, "and bring him directly to the mansion. I'll be waiting for him." The butler set down the phone and left the room, locking the door behind him. ________________________________________________________________________________ From: Dark Rendar Subject: Re: [AS RASSM TURNS] Episode 800 Date: Wed, 26 Mar 1997 21:40:01 -0500 Barq was now left alone in Rich Handley's office. "Barq," DR communicated via comlink, "go to the desk and see what you can find there." The little squirrel complied, leaping from the floor to a posh chair and finally onto the wooden mahogany desk. Producing a squirrel-sized camera, he soon began snapping pictures of the calendar, womp-rate magazines, desk pictures of the dysfunctional Handley family, important looking files, and other assorted goodies. But he really hit the jackpot when he dragged a rolled-up map out of the desk drawer with his teeth. "A map?" DR said out in the Blazer. "Of what?" Barq communicated that it was a map of the Amazon Rainforest, with a big X painted on it. "Hmmm... this sounds important. Barq, take a picture of it, then get out of there. And don't forget to bug the place." The little companion quickly complied, rolling up the map and bugging the desk with another one of their little specialties. After collecting the one from under the chair, Barq gathered all of his things, scampered to another conveniently located open window, and perched on the sill-- -- as the main doors to the office opened once more. He had no time to think. He just jumped. Straight into the Handley swimming pool. A few minutes later, DR saw a thoroughly waterlogged Barq galooshing down the driveway towards the Blazer. Rendar, hooting with laughter, let his companion in, who immediately leaped on his lap and shook himself. "ACKHHACK!!!" DR hollored as he was sprayed with water. "There's sensitive instruments in here!" Barq handed him the roll of film, squeaking something. "You're right," DR agreed. "It IS good that we get waterproof film." Putting the Blazer in gear, they sped away, back to RASSM City. * * * * * * * * James, the butler, slipped back into the office. Upon hearing a loud SPLOOSH outside, he went to the window to investigate. Seeing nothing, he shook his shoulders, closed the window, and sat in Rich's chair, propping his feet up. Soon. Soon, the Handley fortune would be his. ________________________________________________________________________________ From: Dark Lord Karno Dal Subject: AS RASSM TURNS 800 Date: Wed, 26 Mar 1997 21:26:17 -0600 Chris(Karno) lay in the comfortable padded room in the RASSM City Hospital's mental ward. So much had happened to him since he'd left his palace a few hours before. He had found Max, as planned, but he'd been captured. Also, most shockingly, Max had told him that he wasn't a Dark Lord at all. Obviously, Max was lying. the only way to prove it and to settle the score once and for all was to escape, but that was posing a problem. Apparently, someone had put one of those "force-blocking raccoon things" in the cell, because no matter how hard Chris(Karno) tried, he couldn't use the force to free himself from the straight-jacket that encased him. He couldn't free himself with what was in the room, that was for sure. Chris(Karno) knew he had to get out. Once free from the ysalamir's influence, he could dispense with the straight-jacket and resume his quest for Max. The only way out was through the cell's single door, and there was only one means that Chris(Karno) had at his disposal to open it. Making his way over the room's far wall, Chris(Karno) struggled to his feet. Breathing heavy, he paused as he turned himself to face the cell door head on, gathering all of the strength he could muster. He then launched himself across the room, running at top speed towards the door like a human batternig ram, his head lowered to bear the brunt of the impact . Unfortunately for Chris(Karno) his head, not the cell door, was the weaker instrument, and he collapsed to the floor."But...it...worked ...on...Gilligan's....Island..." Chris(Karno) gasped, then passed into unconsciousness. For several long hours, Chris lay on the floor of the padded room. Finally, he awoke with a start. "Did anyone get the number of that truck?" he thought through the pain. "Where am I...and what am I doing in these black robes?" he wondered. Slowly, it all came back to him. He'd spent these long months in the belief that he was indeed a Dark Lord of the Sith. The fateful act of hitting his head on his office doorframe had caused this psychotic episode, and ironically, hitting his head again had freed him from it. He remembered the months of agonizing "therapy" with Dr. Silvestri. He also remembered something else. Something very, very important. "I've got to tell someone," Chris thought aloud. "He's got to be stopped. On this all depends." But, at that fatal moment, the door to the cell opened and a lone figure entered the room. "You won't be telling anyone aything, Chris," the figure answered. "And neither will your wife." "Oh no," Chris exclaimed. "You mean she's-" "That's right," the figure interrupted, "she's here. But she won't be for long." And then he laughed. ________________________________________________________________________________ From: gerthein@worldaccess.nl (Gerthein Boersma) Subject: Re: AS RASSM TURNS 800 Date: Fri, 28 Mar 1997 20:59:16 GMT "All rise. The People Vs. Gerthein Boersma. The honourable Judge Lucas presides." The judge, the honourable Judge Lucas, looked at the defendant, Gerthein, sternly. "So mister Boersma, you face overwhelming evidence today in the unprovoked murder of your twin-brother, Berthein Boersma. The hospital securtity-camera tape that the People have shown in this courtroom yesterday shows you committing this crime quite clearly. Since you have chosen to represent yourself in this case, do you have *anything* to say for yourself before this jury sends you to the chair?!" "Just one thing..." Gerthein said. He felt in his pockets, and pulled out a video-tape. A label on it clearly read "Defense Exhibit A". Judge Lucas shrugged, then motioned the bailiff to install the TV with VCR that had been used yesterday in the proper place once again, and Gerthein walked up to it and installed the tape. "Dim the lights please," Gerthein said, and as the lights dimmed, Gerthein pressed "PLAY" and moved away from the TV. The screen flickered for a moment, then showed a gigantic "L" float to the center of the screen. The beautiful ray-traced letter flashed as it froze into place, promptly flanked by an equally flashy "I" and "M". The screen now read "ILM" as smaller but equally brilliant letters below appeared, reading "Industrial Light & Magic". The judge, jury and all others present gasped in awe. Soon, the ILM-logo was replaced by even more beautiful letters, this time reading "Hospital Security-Camera Tape". With a brilliant flash of purple light, two more words were added in a futuristic font: "Special Edition". The flashy logo was replaced by the images of two men, Gerthein and Berthein. They were standing in some hallway, about four feet apart, and were talking to, both with wary looks in their eyes.. *** "NOOO! Not my miata!" Gerthein screamed in horror.. and suddenly Berthein drew a Walter PPK while continuing to smile devilishly.. "I've been looking forward to this for a long time..". "Yes, I bet you have." Gerthein said, suddenly calm. FLASH! A thin bolt of what appeared to be laser-fire shot out of Berthein's pistol and straight past Gerthein's ear. Apparently unshaken, the cold-blooded Gerthein quickly drew an AK47. RATATAT, a few moments later, Berthein was no more than a bloody pulp (despite the fact that he had had an oppurtunity to squeeze off a shot). Gerthein turned toward the audience, adjusted his shades, groomed his hair, and posed for the camera for a moment as he delivered his line: "Sorry 'bout the mess..". *** The screen faded to black and Gerthein pressed the "STOP" button. As the lights came back on, Gerthein saw the jury stand up from their seats and deliver a powerful applause. Gerthein took a bow, then turned to Judge Lucas. "Your honour, as you can see, my actions weren't as "unprovoked" as they seemed, seeing as how my twin brother evidently shot frist. In light of this new evidence, I move to dismiss all charges against me.". Gerthein eyed the District Attorney for a moment -- a weasel-like man with beady-eyes and a greasy moustache -- but he had apparently fallen asleep.. Lucas appeared to be thinking for a moment, then spoke: "Because what we have just witnessed is apparently the, um, "original vision" of the Hospital Security Tape, the way it was meant to be experienced, this court, out of it's own motion, dismisses all charges brought against Gerthein Boersma. Sir, you're free to go!". "Thank you, your honour". Gerthein smirked triumphantly and calmly walked out of the court room. * * * "Mister Boersma! How did ILM create those phenomenal effects?" "Mister Boersma, are you going to sue the RASSM City Justice dept. for holding you without reason?" "Mister Boersma.." A whole swarm of reporters greeted Gerthein as he walked out of the RASSM Courthouse. Arrogantly, he waved them all off. "Mr. Boersma, I hear you've already sold the movie rights to this story?". Gerthein beamed. This question was worth answering. "Yes, it's called 'The People vs. Gerthein Boersma'. It's about one man ensued in a court-battle, defending not only himself, but one of the most fundamental constitutional rights we have here in America as well." "The freedom of speech?" one reporter asked. "The right to bear firearms." Gerthein corrected. A helicopter shot showed Gerthein as he triumphantly walked towards his miata, followed by the mob of reporters. After falling out of a thirteenth story window, nearly being poisoned, facing his evil twin brother in mortal combat, being thrown in jail and threatened by a mobster in the past three episodes alone, Gerthein Boersma had finally won one. TO BE CONTINUED... ________________________________________________________________________________ From: gerthein@worldaccess.nl (Gerthein Boersma) Subject: [AS RASSM TURNS] Ep. 800-and-a-half: Season CLIFFHANGER! Date: Thu, 10 Apr 1997 16:08:28 GMT Hello soap-fans! Since the Sith War III has recently ensued (and boy, has it ever!), it would be wise to put that *other* humor-thread, the ever-poular "As RASSM Turns" on hold for the time being, to be continued when SW3 dies down. To close A-R-T down for now, I have decided to write a "season cliffhanger", to ensure our viewers will check back with us when the series resumes. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * "Look, I want him *dead*! That son of a Rich! He wins his court-battle, becomes a millionaire by selling the rights to his autobiography, and stands to inherit billions from his father to boot! Yet he still hasn't settled his debt with me! Out of pure arrogance, no doubt! I want him dead, bounty hunter! I want Gerthein Boersma dead!" "Don't worry, Big Ernie. Murder is what I do best..". * * * "Why did you insist on meeting me here, mister.. Dork Reindeer?" "It's Dark Rendar mister.. umm... heck, I'm not even going to pronounce *your* name!" "It's Gerthein Boersma. Now, last time we met, you were trying to prevent me from eating peas.." The duo walked slowly and inconspicuously through RASSM Park. It was amazing how beautiful the park looked: they sure cleaned it up well after that dinosaur problem, Dark Rendar thought. "By the way," Gerthein said, "Nice of you to leave that squirrel in the car...". "I'll cut to the chase," DR said, "I work for a newspaper, and I want the inside scoop on the Bycer case. Since you seem to be very involved with that, I was wondering if perhaps we could.. help each other." "Perhaps.." Gerthein replied, appearing to look straight past DR rather than at him. "How do you know I'm involved?" "Well, you were there at the hospital.. and I.. 'heard'.. Max Silvestri's butler was looking for you." Gerthein's eyes grew wide. How did this little journalist know *that*? He *was* well informed. Perhaps he could be of some use after all. "Alright," Gerthein said, "I'll tell you what I know, and you'll keep me up-to-date from now on. I'll hear all the latest scoops before they hit the paper.". "Deal!" Rendar replied. The two shook hands. "Here's the low-down..." Gerthein started.. * * * Amara was happy. Soon, Gerthein would have solved the assault on Rich Handley for her, so that she could blackmail the culprit and take him or her for everything he or she had. Then she could pay off that mansion in New York city and move out of this hick town for good! And to top it off, her pesky old foe, Eric Bycer, was rotting in jail. She couldn't be happier. She took another cup-cake.. Hmm! Max' butler sure knew how to make breakfast! Max entered the Handley-dining room. "Morning, honey!" he cheered as he walked toward the stereo-set (there was one in every room of the Hanley estate), "Lessee what's happening in the city.". Amara smiled back at him as Max turned on the radio. "We interrupt our very special episode of "the Sith War III" to bring you this RASSM City report.", the radio boomed, "Eric Bycer has been released from jail. In a court motion, his lawyer Bahs-Jawn Vahlehvike managed to get him off due to lack of evidence...". "Oh no!" Amy cried, "They can't have freed Bycer! I've got to...do..*something*..about..". Then she promptly jumped up and ran for the door. "But honey!", a puzzled Max could only watch her run out of the estate, as the news-anchor continued: "In other news, Chris Layne has also been released, from the mental hospital..." "Oh no!" Max cried, "They can't have freed Layne! I've got to...do..*something*..about..". Then he promptly jumped up and ran for the door. * * * "So let me get this straight.." DR said, "Eric Bycer is just a hired hitman. In fact he didn't even place the hit. That was some one called Williams..first name.. Gwenevere?" "Genevieve," Gerthein corrected, "At least, that's what my sources in the criminal world tell me. Calls herself 'the Rimrunner'. Friendly help-line representative by day, lethal assasin by night." "The Rimrunner.." DR wrote it all down in his notebook. "Sounds flashy, eh?" Gerthein said mockingly. "Not to mention slightly homo-erotic.." DR replied, still scribbling, "But if they are just hired hands, then who issued the directive?". "Not sure," Gerthein lied. Actually, he had suspected Max Silvestri ever since he had dsplayed such strange behaviour in RASSM City Hospital. "But why don't you follow up on that Rimrunner-lead for now and I'll inform you if I..err.. 'remember'.. anything else.". Dark Rendar nodded slowly.."We'll stay in touch," he said, "Pleasure doing business with you..". And with that, Dark Rendar turned around and walked towards his car. Gerthein watched him walk away, then left the park himself. "Taxi!" he yelled. * * * Usher was walking down the street, feeling... well, mixed feelings: Rakelle had left, which was a bad thing, but physically he hadn't felt this good in episodes! *Bump!* "Hey watch were your going!" Usher loudly barked at the tall figure he had run into.. But the figure could only smirk sarcastically. "Usher," she said, "Don't you recognize me? I am the *real* Rakelle! HAHAHA!". * * * "Where to?," the short cab-driver asked Gerthein curtly. But after he had closed the yellow cab's door, Gerthein immediatly recognized the would-be cabbie: Jeans, leather jacked, chains, and the trademark Mercedes hood ornament: "Ah, *the Rimrunner*. Nice to see you're back in town.." Gerthein spoke sarcastically. The cabbie turned around, and Gerthein got a good look at her face: it was the Rimrunner alright. And she looked pissed. "I'm sorry to dissapoint you," Gerthein continued in his mocking tone, "but Rich Handley is out of town..". The assasin's face remained stone-cold. "I didn't come for Rich Handley.." the Rimrunner said, calmly pulling out a Walter PPK limited edition fitted with a state-of-the-art silencer, and pointing it at Gerthein's face, "I came.. for you.". "Help.." Gerthein sqeaked. TO BE CONTINUED... NEXT SEASON!! * * * * * * * * * * * ________________________________________________________________________________