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Ive always relied on the strangeness...I mean the kindness of strangers.

The Big Triple Update for May-June-July 2000

Page 26 of 26


Eppilog: Granfather's Revenge

Yes, the old basterd got his revenge. But first, there was, for much of the folowing week:

A couple of pleasent, unexpected devellopments

Six days later the pain of the events surrounding the arrest of that night were just starting to go away. In fact, things were even starting to look up a bit.

The psycho biker chick had not called in all that time; (I am trying to convinse myself that this is a good thing; I think it is); Cathyann was demoted back down to lunchlady; (it apears that even the people who knew nothing about computers were able to figure out that she knew even less.)

And that creepy Petra was placed on Administrative Leave for hitting Mr. Bouvard; (she claimed that it was revealed to her in a dream that 300 years from now he will pollute the enviromint by disabling a cattalytic converter on his fancy hovercraft vehicle. Anyway, she is getting full pay while she takes a danm vacation.)

And then things started to get NOT so great.

We held our all-hands staff meeting. Igor was threatenned with being deported back to the Former Soveit Union if he didnt give his public presentation on the Hercules Team Positioning Statement. (He is in the country legally--Peaches just told him that to scare him. Igor believed him).

Our network servers are hacked agian

So there is poor Igor scared to death in front of the whole company. With his laptop sittin on the podium, he pulls up from the network the document of the Positioning Statment, which at the same time he projects onto the big screen behind him.

Poor Igor can only read outloud if he stares at the screen and tabs his cursor to every word slowly one at a time in a loud, booming, but stilted Russian acent. So nervous was he that he coudnt even pay attention to what he was saying or reading or for that matter projecting in two foot high words in double spaced Courier type for the whole companey to read. But everyone else did and here it is:

"THE POSITIONING STATEMENT OF THE HERCULES TEAM. NOW NAMED 'THE TESTACLEES TEAM'

(Pronounced, "Testa-Clees")

This is how the story of Testacles begins..."

A gasp rose from the audeince. People looked at the huge screen above and behind Igor. They could read ahead on the document what he was going to say. People motionned to try to get him to stop. But Igor, frightenned to death, never looked at the audeince. He kept on reading.

Boy I was startin to get really pissed. I knew who was behind this. I knew who hacked us, too: GRANFATHER. I looked around the audotorium at all the gaping shocked faces. No, not for the old basterd's face -- he was still in jail, actually -- yes, another one of those "pleasent, unexpected devellopments" -- but I was looking for Tilde. The only face in the room that was NOT shocked.

I climbed over my seat to where she was. She looked at me biting her lip.

"Oh dear," she said, her small toadlike face crumpoled into a worried frown.

"How did this happen! I whispered loudley. She bit her lip again and looked down at her hands in her lap, and her small stout fidgeting thumbs. She started to tell me, but just stammored in hesitation: "I...I, well, I..."

Granfather's awful, embarrasing, utterly corny campy hoummiliating sence of humor

In the meantime, Igor continued reading:

This is how the story of Testacles begins.

Ancient Greece was a time of strife and wickedness. The gods were

petty and cruel. Who could the commom man turn to, for fairness and

justice?

Yes, the world was a hairy place; a cruel marble. A wrinkled,

tortured globe, a painful orb dangling in space, hot with the sweat

of humanity and the scent of man. Who will descend to free it, to

bring it out of its murky reeking depths, exposing it to the

soothing, cooling winds?

Da-Duh-DAAH! Only one. Or make that two: TESTACLES!

"Stop rubbin my arm!, I whispered to Tilde. She looked at me ready to burst out cryin then blurted out to me, "Oh dear! Grampy called me from prison! He wanted a network ID and password. Oh, and I gave him one. Oh, I am so weak!"

Igor went on:

Yes, Testacles.

Born of a human woman and a real ball-breaker of a god, Zeus,

Testacles comes to fight for truth, justice, and comfortable togas.

Separated from the rest of the body of man, young Testacles was

left hanging, left holding the bag. But he itched for fame.

(Usually itching in the morning most of all). As fate would have

it, the world became his oyster. He quickly learned his way its

humid rocky surface, examining every moist gully and steamy crevice.

Honing his skills as cupbearer in the male baths, soon after

puberty Testacles quickly doubled in size, got a little sharper

around the edges, and descended southward.

A bit of a jock, Testacles knows his strengths and limitations.

Beneath a fuzzy exterior, he's quite a tender fellow. Well rounded,

he's sometimes over-sensitive, even thin-skinned. Sometimes known

for hanging outside the fold, he's still considered one of the

family jewels. He always presents himself out in the open. And he's

a genuine nut.

And a true man. Resembling men much more than women. After all, (as

every urologist will tell you), there is a VAS

DEFERENS between a man and a woman.

Oh man, that corny "vas deferens" joke. That old joke dates back to probly before Granfather even had hair on his, Oh, never mind. Well aneyway it then started to get REAL corny. Yes, classic Granfather. Old contemptouous basterd.

Testacles knows how to gird his loins and fight, even hitting below

the belt if necessary. When exposed to hazards, he charges forward,

manhood first. When confronted with danger, he turns his head and

coughs.

And coughing ever while turning to the Orb-acle of Delphi for

wisdom, a fight with Testacles is a ball bearing gifts, a gift

which is usually a swift kick in the grapes. Those who attack him

find themselves, well, prostrate. Even if it's his arch-enemy and

half-brother, the God of War, Hairies. Or for that matter, Gonad

The Barbarian.

Who put the 'Rome' in Testostorome? Who put the "Dong" in Hamma-

Lamma Ding Dong?" You guessed it..Da-Duh-DAAAAAA! TESTACLES!

Well anyway guess who got it truoble for it? Yup, me. And also Tilde of course. Oh, I almost forgot: While the old basterd was there in our network, he also hacked the Haiku server too. Hidden in own my personol password protected folder were a couple of Haiku parodies I wrote, just for the private enjoymint of me, Stu and the other marketing guys. I thoght I erased them all, but there were two Haikus left in the folder. Granfather posted them at the bottom of Igor's presentation, and added a third one of his own. See if you can guess which of the three Hakius the old basterd wrote:

Same old web crap but
New frontiers in kissing butt
cyberblop dot com

More vice presidents
Per capita than a bank
cyberblop dot com

Yo momma so fat
haikus about the bitch got
forty syllables

I sure wasnt laughin about it then, but that last one is prety funny.

Why this danm update was so danm long.

Yes I appollogize for boring you to death. I am tryin to expand myself as a writer.

This is a longer, more freestanding and less episodic update. You may of noticed the varrious concurrent plots. I hope my learning to devellop storylines will one day make me not be as crappy a writer as i am today.

There was a time that I wrote smaller more frequent updates. I asked my readers if they woud prefer longer, less freqeunt updates, and many wrote in to say yes.

Your opinion is wellcome. Being as insecure and impressionable as I am, I am very often swayed and tossed by the currents of reader critticism. Yes like Tilde I too am weak. All coments and observattions are welcome althuogh I cannot respond to all due to the tremendous volume of email I get. I am at: walter_miller@hotmail.com
(Dont_forget_ the_underscore_).

Speaking of plots

Nothing woud make most people in our county happy than to have a fresh buriol plot in the red clay soil under which rested Granfather. (exept of course, the people who use the groundwater). But anyway, in my next update one of the major charactors in my homepage will be declared dead. As long as youre writing in, see if you can guess.

Will it be Uncle William? (Too easy). Cathyann? Stu? Junior? Tilde? Dr. Blankenship, from an ass infection thanks to Granfather's venemous bite? Or Uncle Zeke, dying of starvation with his danm foot stuck to the floor while i go on a business trip? Until next time:

This is THE END of this update

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