From: Dark Lord Karno Dal Subject: [AS RASSM TURNS] Anniversary Special Date: Fri, 7 Mar 1997 15:35:07 -0600 Just why is there a "Dark Lord" running around RASSM city? What exactly happened to Karno Dal between Episodes 799 and 800? Where did he come from? Why does Ewok hair tickle his butt-cheeks? All of this and more is explained in this lost snippett from Episode 799 (except the butt-cheek part) From AS RASSM TURNS: Episode 799 > Lord Dal lept to his feet, commanding his horde of Dark Newbies, "After > that naked man!!!! Maximi is my only link to `Kevin J. Anderson's guide > to finding and using previously unknwn or forgotten superweapons,' and he > must not be allowed to escape!!" > > "Escape.....is not his plan," usher whispered. > > "Good," Karno Dal growled, "I hate long chase sequences." > > And with that, he rushed out into the hallway ********** With Karno Dal hot on his heels a very naked Max bounced up six flights of stairs (ouch) and out into RASSM hospital's mental ward. The hallway was dark and deserted. There was no help to be found, but Max couldn't run anymore. Karno Dal bounded through the door and finally came face to face (and, considering Max's lack of attire, considerably more than just face on his part) with his prey. "So...(wheeze)...Maximi.....we...(wheeze)...meet....again....at... Karno Dal paused, a look of unrequieted terror passing over his face. "For God's sake, put something on, man!" he bellowed, handing Max his cloak to cover up with. The pair stood silently for a moment, sizing each other up. Then Max spoke. "So I see you've relapsed again," he inquired. "What do you mean, sir?" Karno Dal replied. "I've come for Kevin J. Anderson's..." "The book thing? Again?" Max interrupted, shaking his head in disgust. "You use that plot device more than KJA himself would if he'd thought of it. Honestly, I thought we'd worked this all out in therapy." "You'd dare insult a Dark Lord of the Sith?" Karno demanded, drawing himself up to his full height? For some reason, he continued to gesture at Max after he'd stopped talking, as if his voice had been poorly dubbed. "You're not a Dark Lord, you're a crime lord; or at least you used to be.." Far away from the clean streets and indoor beaches of RASSM city, in the seedy, glittertown tinsel of Las Vegas, an attractive, dark-haired man in his mid-twenties sits behind a mohagony desk in a swank mid-town office. He rests, leaned back in an expensive leather desk chair, his Bruno-Mali shoes propped up on the desk in front of him. His name is Christopher Layne, but he is known to his considerable underworld connections simply as "The Mole." He is keeping himself entertained by watching "The Empire Strikes Back" on USA. It was the crappy Pan-and-Scan version hosted by Billy Dee Williams. Chris' henchman, Aban, enters the office, gracefully ducking to avoid the low-hanging top of the doorframe in the office entryway. "Time to make for the syndicate meeting, boss," Aban bellowed in his somewhat annoying Brooklynesque accent. "Sure, sure," Chris replied, the disinterest evident in his voice. Being a hired hitman may have made him rich, but there was something about it that seemed so cold-blooded. Maybe, just once, he ought to let one of his intended victims shoot first. "Nah," he thought, "it would take too much of the edge off of my character." In these thoughts consumed, Chris was paying little attention to the low-hanging doorframe that loomed before him. Moving to duck a fraction of a second too late, Chris slammed his head into the doorframe and collapsed to the ground in an unconscious heap. Aban yelled to Chris' bodyguards just outside the office. "See to him!!" he screeched. The small party managed to wake "The Mole" from his doorway-induced slumber. "Boss...Boss...speak to me," Aban pleaded. "Do you at least know who you are?" "Yes," Chris answered in a low, raspy voice. "I am the Dark Lord Karno Dal." ********** Having thoroughly listened to max's story, Chris(Karno) recoiled in disbelief. "Oh yeah?" Chris(Karno) retorted brilliantly. "If I'm not a Dark Lord, then explain my lightsabre." Max looked at the object dangling from Chris(Karno)'s belt. "It's a mag-light," he responded flatly. "Ah, so it is," Chris(Karno) replied. "How about my hordes of Dark Newbies?" "Figments of your imagination," Max answered. "Oh. Well you can't deny that that's my Pinto-class shuttle parked in yon parking lot," Chris(Karno) whimpered. Max strolled to a nearby window and looked out. "It's not a Pinto-class shuttle, it's a Pinto. A car, you loon!" He retorted. "But I AM a Dark Lord!" Karno raged. "And I'll prove it. I can use the Force." "Really?" Max smiled. He'd heard this one before, and he knew he could use it to his advantage. Quickly scanning the room, he spotted a security alarm. "Use the Force to pull that red lever over there." "Done!!!" Chris(Karno) howled. He raised his arm in the direction of the lever and closed his eyes. After a few seconds, he ran quickly over to the lever, pulled it, then ran back to his original spot and resumed his stance. "See!!!" Instantly, psycho ward staff members rushed into the room, tackling Chris(Karno) and forcing him to the floor. "This man is mad, mad I tell you," Max yelled over the excitement. "I should know, I'm...........his therapist!!!!" "But I...need the book.....must...win...Sith War..." Chris(Karno) grunted. "I've told you before, there's no such thing as a Sith War," Max replied with an evil grin. "We really do have a lot of work to do. Before we get started, however, you must tell me how you found me." "usher," Chris(Karno) growled. "usher??!!" Max gasped. "How do you know him? How did he know where to find me?" "You'll find out soon enough," Chris(Karno) answered, returning Max's evil smile. "Take him away," Max ordered the orderlies, "and make sure he gets extra peas." "NNNNNNNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO," Chris(Karno) cried, and then he was gone. TO BE CONTINUED IN EPISODE 800!!!! ________________________________________________________________________________ From: gerthein@worldaccess.nl (Gerthein Boersma) Subject: Re: [AS RASSM TURNS] Anniversary Special Date: Sat, 08 Mar 1997 12:30:51 GMT The one and only lonewolf@ziplink.net (Max Silvestri) wrote: Good evening ladies and gentlemen! I've been asked to say a few words on this momentous day, where AS RASSM TURNS celebrates it's 800 episode anniversary. But the network doesn't pay me nearly enough to do so, so let's just cut to a flashback. Episode 669 "Ernie's Rubber Ducky"... *** Berthein and Gerthein were hogging the road. Berthein drove his black Eldorado, and Gerthein his new pink miata, next to each other with ridulous speed on a mostly empty highway. Both had the top down, and Berthein was conversing via car-phone with their current employer, mob-man Big Ernie. Berthein was using a hands-free speaker phone, so Gerthein had to endure the entire conversation. "I give up , Ernie, why DO you have a banana in your ear?" "It's to scare away the crocodiles, Bert!" "But Ernie, you live in Alaska, I've never seen a crocodile in Alaska!" "Agirgirgrigirggirg! See, it works great! Agirgirgirgirgrigirg!" "Ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah! The banana-in-ear sketch! A CLASSIC!" "Will you guys knock it off?" the annoyed Gerthein interrupted the malarky, "It's bad enough we have to haul a cargo of animal-shaped condoms. This is some sick repugnant sh*t!". "Hey, there's a market for i...!" Berthein started to reply, then spotted the red flashing light of police cars in his rear-view mirror, "Damn! It's the heat! Step on it, Ge.." But when he looked to his left, Gerthein was already gone. Berthein looked around and saw Gerthein had veered off in the direction of RASSM CITY. He also saw him toss the boxes with condoms right out the side of his car, and rubber animals littered the road. "DAMN HIM!" Berthein yelled, as the police turned on their sirens. WEE-YOO WEE-YOO WEE YOO. "What's the matter, Bert?" Big Ernie inquired via speaker phone. "Police is on my back and Gerthein has aboned me!" Berthein frantically explained, accelerating up to ludicrous speeds as the police continued to draw near. "Damn!" Ernie replied, "Okay, shake the heat and deliver the package. Then track down that traitor.". "Affirmitive, Ernie! Before the 800th anniversity, that Gerthein is going to be real sorry!". *** And that's it. One of those episodes from the days the shows budget was used on high speed chases rather than good writers, eh? See you in episode 800, I'm going back to hosting my game-show. They pay me double! ________________________________________________________________________________ From: Rnolan@htcomp.net (Robert Nolan) Subject: As RASSM Turns Anniversary Special - The Armchair Emperor Has No Clothes[Ep. 322] Date: Sun, 09 Mar 1997 10:10:57 GMT Rich Handley, the Womp-rat King, had a visitor. He had expected it, because he had called the meeting. It was just that he had not specified a time, and now was not a good time. It was time for his daily sponge bath, truly the high point of his day. "Couldn't you have come some other time?" Rich asked plaintively. "No," the mysterious visitor said, "you told us this was urgent, so I came right away." "Make your report, then; but be quick about it! The nurse will be here soon." Rich said. The mystery visitor nodded his head, then reported, "Our investigation is almost complete. We believe we know who did the bombing, and it was not Eric." Rich sat up much too fast in surprise, making himself dizzy. "What, already? Tell me who it was, so I can make the SOB pay for what he has done!" "It was..." At that moment the nurse, a voluptuous blonde, walked in. "It is time for Richie..I mean Mr. Handley's bath.You will leave now." "Come back to finish your report in an hour or so, Rogue Jedi." Rich looked at the nurse, then turned back to his guest. "Better make that two. 'Bye!" Rogue Jedi left his boss alone with his nurse, and proceeded to the nearest closet. He went in, and two minutes later, re-emerged as Rob, the maintainer of RASSM City's gaming center. The bombing had really been a surprise to him; no-one in The Organization had seen it coming. It was difficult, imagining The Organization without Handley-The Flea-Ridden at it's head. Memories of his induction to The Organization almost overwhelmed Rob as he went to the hospital cafeteria to pass the time. *********Begin Flashback Sequence****************** In the Star Wars Echo Chamber, deep beneath Fido-Net Mountain: "This meeting will now come to order." Then-Head Stooge Handley said. "This meeting of the De-Facto FidoNet Star Wars Echo-lites has been called for three purposes. One, we must come up with a new plan. Two, we gotta select a new leader, since Skip skipped out on us. And third, we have some new conspirators to welcome into the fold." Handley rapped a gavel against the table, and sat down. "Let's welcome the newbies first. Hi guys, welcome to The Organization. Now on to other business." "Here now," exclaimed James 'Lord' Trory, "these blokes have to be properly introduced!" "Ok. James, meet Rob, Paula, and Duggy," Rich had said glibly. "Rob, Paula, Duggy, meet James. Happy now?" "Yes, quite so. Hi guys!" came the response. "Hi James." "Hiya Jimmy." "G'day, Jim" Said Rob, Paula, and Duggy. "Good, now can we continue?" Four heads nodded. "Good. Now I vote for me as the new leader. Any objections?" Rich paused for two seconds, then continued. "No? Good. Now for our new plan. How are we gonna get James King?" "Uh...where's everyone else?" Paula asked nervously. "What? Oh,...right. Everyone else. They couldn't be here tonight. Yeah, that's it. They couldn't be here." James volunteered. "Actually..heh..there's only the five of us, including you three." Rich added. "Can we get back to the business at hand now?" Four heads nodded, a few of them reluctantly this time. "Good. So what's the plan?" James stood up and spoke, "I've seen a lot of perverts around RASSM City lately. I think this gives us an opening to get him. What we need to do is try to moderate the group. the controversy over moderation will surely drown out anything JK says." James sat back down. Rich thought about that for a moment. "I don't know. How will that make me look? I do have a successful womprat trade, you know." He thought some more. "We don't have to all be for it do we?" He finally asked. Rob stood up, and interjected "No. I know some people at RASSM U. that will be all for it. If I can get them in on it, only a few of us need to appear to support the proposal." "How do you now such radicals?" Duggy asked. "I run the RASSM Arcade, and many of 'em are regulars," Rob answered. "They're mostly into those God-games, real imperialists and control freaks. It'll work." "Ok, Rob you head up the effort." Rich commanded. "James, since it was your idea, you make the suggestion. Get real indignant about all the 'trash' on RASSM, and in a fit of rage, suggest moderation." James sat up straight, and said "No problem, gov. I'm good at rage." Rich smiled down at his loyal followers. "Good. Now go make James King pay for giving me fleas. HAHAHAHA!!" *********End flashback Sequence************ Rob sat in the RASSM City Hospital cafeteria drinking coffee, passing the time. *Hospital food sucks* he thought. *I'll be glad when this two hours is up* he thought again. He looked at the clock, and thought *Time for the next episode already, damn.* To be continued in episode 800.... ________________________________________________________________________________ From: bycer@blue.seas.upenn.edu (Eric J Bycer) Subject: Repost: [As RASSM Turns] The Lost Episode: RASSM City vs. Eric Bycer Date: 26 Aug 1997 17:46:18 GMT This is a repost of something that I wrote over the summer as a lost episode. I was freed from jail with little explanation. So i wrote this explanation. As it turns out, not many people saw/remembered it, so it has gotten lost in the scuffle, and may no longer be a part of the continuity. *I* say that we should vote, but that may just be me... RASSM! Tell me what you think! "Case 1138, the People versus Eric Bycer is now in session. Judge Han G. Him, now presiding." Judge Him sat and banged his gavel on the table. "Be seated. Let's get this show on the road, people. The electric chair is currently charging." Bas-Jan turned to his client. "Eric, I think this guy is on our side!" "Shut up, Bas-Jan." The case went relatively quickly, as the presecution had no witnesses and no evidence. But the prosecuting attorney's opening statement was quite a spectical, and had most of the jury in tears. "Mr. Bas-Jan, you may call your first witness--" Han began, but was interrupted by the Jury foreman. "Your honor, we find the defendant guilty and sentence him to death by the Holiday Special." Han thought this over for a second. "OK. Next!" Eric jumped to his feet. "Your honor!" He turned to his lawyer. "Aren't you going to object?" "Why?" Eric eyed Bas-Jan angrily. "What kind of law school did you graduate from?" "Whoa! They got *schools* for this stuff?" Eric smacked his hand against his forehead. "Never mind. Your honor, I object! I have the right to state my defense!" "Huh?" "You know, when I present my side of the story?" "Oh. Sure, I guess, now that the verdict is out." Perfect. Stepping out from behind his table, Eric looked out at the overflowing audience. There were people selling 'Burn, Eric, Burn' T-shirts, other people waiting by computers to post the immediate results of the trial all over the city. But Eric wasn't about to let that happen. "Rich Handley is a great friend to all--" "Murderer!" "But he's not dead! Don't any of you see that there were no witnesses, no evidence, no proof, and still you convict me! You just want vengence! But I didn't do anything! I'm innocent!" "Tell that to Rich's widow!" "Dammit, are any of you listening to me? Rich is alive. He's got minor burns on 0.05 percent of his body. He's been out of the hospital for three weeks, and is even back at work! Can't you see that this is all a mistake!" "Yeah, and you made it!" "Let me put this another way. If someone were to get into an accident, and were to walk into this courtroom this very second, would you think that he was dead?" Eric turned to the door, but nothing happened. "I said, 'were to walk into this courtroom this very second..." Still nothing happened. "I said, 'THIS VERY SECOND!'" The door burst open and Rich Handley stood in the doorway, with his wife at his side, very pregnant. "Oh, God! The Ghost Who Walks!" "Someone get a priest!" Several women fainted, and Han angrily banged his gavel on the bench. "What is this outrage? Mr. Bycer, do you have an answer for this?" "Help me, Rich Handley, you're my only hope." "No, you're doing fine. Please continue." Clearing his throat, Eric turned back to the judge and jury. "Ladies and Gentlemen of the court, there has been a grave injustice committed here. You need a scapegoat so badly that you are ready to execute me for a crime that I didn't commit. I believe that the system works, and if the evidence doesn't exist, you must acquit. The prosecution has not provided anything except words. Stirring words, I'll grant you, but words, and nothing more. "If the evidence doesn't exist you must acquit." Taking a deep breath, Eric began his defense. "Friends, RASSMers, countrymen, lend me your ears. I have not come to condemn Eric Bycer, but to exonerate him. The prosecuting attorneys have stated nothing, and Eric Bycer is an innocent man. Yes, a crime was committed, but I am not the guilty party. I would ask Rich Handley to rise to my defense, by I am an honorable man. "Rich has visited me in prison, and he has told me the whole story of what has happened, and I would like to tell you the story as it was told to me. But you must at least give me a chance to tell you what truly happened, for I am an honorable man. "As Rich was walking from his job to his car, he noticed a faint smell of gasoline, but thought nothing of it. As a father to be, he is on top of the world, and has nothing to fear. If he were to run for mayor of RASSM City, he would win hands down. Who would dare to attack him? Not Eric Bycer, for I am an honorable man. "Turning on his engine on the hottest day of the year, Rich cranked the air condition to its maximum coolness level and began to drive home the long way, with lots of starts and stops along the way. As he made his way from red light to red light, Rich thought about how long it had been since he had refilled the radiator. But I had nothing to do with this, for I am an honorable man. "Finally arriving home, Rich checked the level of gasoline in his tank by taking a cigarette lighter and removing the oily rag that kept the gas tank closed, and peering deep into the tank, using the tiny flame to light his way. Finding nothing, Rich replaced the rag. I hope that you have been paying attention up until now, for I am an honorable man. "Getting into his house, he turned on the gas powered stove, and went to the living room to wait for the stove to heat up so that he could cook dinner. Dragging his shoes along the rag carpet fringe, Rich got a shock when he touched the light switch. After this point, I have no more story to tell, for Rich remembers nothing after this. But I am an honorable man." Everyone wearing a toga was now in tears, crying into their Caeser Salads that they had brought from lunch. "Is this your defense in its entirety?" "You wish to convict me? And what's your reason? I am a Jew. Hath not a Jew eyes? Hath not a Jew ears? Are we not warmed and cooled by the same winters and summers as you? Tickle us, do we not laugh, poison us, do we not die, prick us do we not bleed, wrong us, shall we not revenge?" Eric thought about that last part for a half-second. "I've been on the wrong side of the law before. I was in a gang once, and I remember what the Yeshiva Boys from the South Side always said before a rumble. 'They bring knives? We'll bring lawyers. They bring guns? We'll bring more lawyers. They bring guns *and* knives? We'll bring Robert Shapiro!' Jews don't fight, we reason, we sue, we bring bagels and knishes and blintzes to a negotiating table. We don't blow up people." In the audience, all the Rabbis and Jewish Grandmothers were in tears. "That's a mensch. Oy, what a nice Jewish boy!" "Did he blow Rich up, or did he not, that is the question. Whether 'tis nobler in the chair to suffer the shocks and arcs of outrageous voltage, or to return a not guilty verdict, and by doing so, end the trial. To convict, to release, no more! And by a release to say we end the heartach and the thousand natural sorrows that Rich has suffered, 'tis a consumation, devoutly to be wished! "To convict, to die. And in that release of death what dreams may come after you've shuffled me off of this mortal coil should give you pause. There's the respect that makes for so long life! But who would pay for the crimes committed? The medical bills, the pain and suffering, the pangs of disprized love, the law's delay, the insolence of office work, whose patience spurns those of the unworthy takes! Who would fardels bear, to grunt and sweat under a weary life? "But that the dread of something after death, the undiscovered country, from who's borne, no man returns, and puzzles the will, and makes us rather bear those ills we have than fly to others we know not of. And thus the native hue of resolution becomes sicklied o'er wit hteh pale cast of thought, and Kirk's ship of great pitches and motions, is thusly turned awry, and lose the name of action. But soft, you are nearing sleep." All the suicidal Danish princes were sobbing uncontrolably. "Is that all, Mr. Bycer?" 'What will it take to convince them?' Eric thought dispondantly. "Do it for the trees." At this, everyone else in the courtroom bust into tears. Judge Him wiped the tears from his eyes as he spoke into the now quiet courtroom. "Case dismissed." Rich walked up to Eric and shook his hand. "Excellent! You are now part of the tribe." "So what are you going to name the kid?" "If it'a a boy, Giveema Handley. If it's a girl, Heywatchthose Handley." "If it's a girl, have you bought the shotgun?" "Yup." Eric and Rich walked out of the courtroom together, completely forgetting about Mrs. Handley, who only managed to shout, "It's time!" ________________________________________________________________________________