Path: news.cac.psu.edu!news.math.psu.edu!hudson.lm.com!godot.cc.duq.edu!news.duke.edu!agate!newsxfer.itd.umich.edu!newsfeed.internetmci.com!news.sprintlink.net!howland.reston.ans.net!quagga.ru.ac.za!ucthpx!iafrica.com!ticsa.com!cstatd.cstat.co.za!usenet
From: Carlos Fernandes
Newsgroups: alt.cyberpunk
Subject: Re: St. Poly's Infirmary (Was: Re: What the hell is a Cyberpunk?)
Date: 9 Sep 1995 07:23:10 GMT
Organization: Internet Africa
Lines: 213
Message-ID: <[email protected]>
References: <[email protected]> <[email protected]> <[email protected]> <[email protected]> <[email protected]>
NNTP-Posting-Host: slipper101139.iafrica.com

[email protected] (Lisa Walton) wrote:
>
> Lisa reaches blindly for her two-fingers of "sedative", amazed that
> she has had such an exciting afternoon (she was hallucinating that she
> was actually working on a paper and preparing presentation notes, and
> is sooo relieved to discover otherwise...)
>
> In article <[email protected]>, Eugene Mosburg wrote:
> [...]
> >A daemon approaches with a sealed note.
> >
> >What a windfall: a genuine invitation, signed in Lisa's meticulous hand.
> >This turn of events permits him the luxury of scrapping Plan A: "Show up
> >with a lot of money and look like a sucker."
> >
> >Gene approaches the table, smiles at the players. "Source, Eyebrown,
> >it's been awhile. Lisa, thank you for the invite. Pleasure to see you
> >all. I brought a couple of "special" decks if you're in the mood
> >for Pinochle or Euchre."
> >
> >"Euchre?" Lisa frowns, "Isn't it that funny looking shade of paint from
> >the wrong side of the Sherwin-Williams color wheel?"
> >
> >"No, that's *ochre*", adds Sourcerer.
it's anything u want it to be?
>
> While maintaining her innocent, questioning look, Lisa quickly does a
> mental run through of the appropriate hand signals. She glances at
> Eyebrown, wondering what system he uses, then back to Gene, not buying
> the howdy folks routine. Apparently, neither does Eyebrown...
>
> >"Let's see those decks", suggests Eyebrown.
> >
> >"Errr, that is .... wait a minute, thanks for reminding me! We couldn't
> >use *these* cards anyway," Gene stutters. "I just remembered that these
> >are the novelty decks I picked up for my brothers from the joke shop.
> >They squirt water, y'know, blow sneezing powder, all that happy
> >horse @$%#&."
> >
> >"Then we'll use *our* decks," smiles Lisa. She sniffs as if on the
> >verge of an allergy attack. Gene shifts downwind, resigned to the
> >luck of the draw and the whiff of a Chanel vat.
>
> Trembling on the verge of a cough, Lisa instead puts two fingers in
> her mouth and emits a piercing whistle. Seconds later, the bushes part
> and two incongrously white-clad daemons unroll an expensive looking
> carpet...chanting stenoriously, a line of clerics bearing miters of
> incense step forth and surround the small party. The swinging and
> chanting continues until the the billowing smoke assumes a the form of
> a giant Pumice Stone, grainy and dense. The incense beast, identifying
> its true enemy, envelopes Gene in a thick pall smoke. Muffled screams
> for someone named "Ed" emerge, and wild gestures send tendrals of
> smoke everywhere...
>
> "Keep your face out of that" Lisa admonishes Eyebrown sharply. "We've
> got some Euchre strategy to discuss..." A bout of thumping and
> snickering commences...
>
> Sometime later, a much more presentable Gene indicates that he is
> ready to play. Shifting gingerly in his seat, he rubs again at skin
> that feels like it has first been scrubbed with Brillo pads then
> oiled and pummled by the entire cast of American Gladiators...
>
> Smiling ruefully at Lisa, he shuffles the deck and prepares to deal.
> Suddenly, seeing the all too bland look on Eyebrown's face, he
> realizes what they were probably up to while he was distracted, and
> chooses a different game.
>
> >He loses two games of gin, three of Oh Hell. The players are well
> >disposed to take their winnings in barter: Lisa now has the torch;
> >Eyebrown starts out with the caliper set, then loses it to Sourcerer.
> >
> >Desperate times call for desperate measures.
> >
> >Gene clears his throat. "Lisa, if I may reminisce, I knew a lady of your
> >same name years fifteen years ago who had a most unusual talent. She
> >played a wicked game of 8-ball, with the further attraction that she played
> >*one-handed*. She would grasp the cue with her right hand, use the table's
> >edge for support, and proceed to defeat any challenger.
>
> "Quite a grrrl. Bet you wish she were here to get you out of this
> one." she purrs challengingly. "At this rate we'd better switch to
> Euchre" she pauses and grins hopefully, "otherwise you'll be back to
> trolling .edus for your ante Real Soon Now!"
>
> >"These pockets of mine are all but empty. Even so, one saves the best
> >for last."
> >
> >He removes a small box and places it on the lawn. At the touch of a
> >button on the left side, the soft *whirr* of a nanomechanical expansion
> >drive begins. The box unfolds by degrees, assuming first the vague
> >and finally the explicit shape of a regulation sized pool table.
> >"Smart" supports underneath maintain a level playing surface despite
> >the gentle slope of the lawn.
>
> Nightfly ([email protected]) wrote:
> Just in time Nightfly arrives, notified of the impending game of pool
> via the sub-etha net. The other punks nod curtly, noticing the box he
> is carrying under his arm.
>
> >"Eight ball? Nine ball? Rotation?"
> >
> >"I'll bet it's got 'smart' pockets, too", whispers Source to Eyebrown. Lisa
> >chooses a cue and moves in for the kill.
>
> Opening the box the other punks look with feigned indifference at the
> contents, a black pole about a metre long...
>
> Taking the featurless object from the box, Ny points it outwards and
> away from the group, within a second it has extended and tapered at
> one end, from about third of its length a small almost unnoticable
> bump appears and a beam of pure red laser light traces down the length
> of the cue.
>
> Lisa watchs Ny's ritual preparations with a bland look completely at
> odds with the mirth bubbling up inside her...tsk tsk, what would that
> soc-head lady facinated with flying phallic symbols, uh jets, think
> about this...
>
> "Veerrry Nice," she murmers appreciatively. "Mind if I warm up a bit
> with some of the gamers who are less well equi...um, who need more
> prac...um, who just prefer wood?"
>
> With a bland smile of his own, Ny nods and retires, gripping his cue
> protectively and displaying it with the air of a man who intends to
> demonstrate great feats of prowess...
>
> Waiting patiently for Lisa to quickly eliminate allcomers, Ny shares a
> joint with some of the dejected losers, wheres Poly? he asks? I havn't
> been here for ages and I was hoping to share some stories of near
> death experiences and maybe get some ice climbing tips.
>
> Talking about near death experiences, Ny notes that Lisa is in the
> process of totally destroying Eugene, it will soon be his turn to face
> her, he hopes hes ready...
>
> Gene Returns:
> >Battle's lost, but the war is pressing on to a victorious
> >conclusion. Gene excuses himself, leaves Lisa, Source,
> >Eyebrown, and Nightfly to the table.
> [...]
>
> >Before long Gene and Ed are haggling fiercely about hardware jumper
> >settings, minimum system requirements, choice of netware distributions,
> >the Assassain's payment. Armchair quarterbacks, in their dreams. Their
> >shouts, as friendly as Barcelona market-rats determining the price of
> >today's *bacalao*, echo back to the house.
> >
> >"So why is he cussing in Chinese?" asks Lisa. What does
> >A'IN-KON-KA'ET! A'IN-KON-KA'ET! mean?"
> >
> >"Not Chinese", laughs Eyebrown. "It's 'Okie' for AIN'T GONNA
> >CUT IT! As in *Not Acceptable*. "
>
> "Damn, knew I should have checked the setting on the miters...he's
> supposed to be chanting in Latin and smiting his head at this point"
> she mutters disgustedly. "Smegging clerics....say Source, how are your
> bee-mice at gimmicking so-called holy relics?"
>
> Eyebrown Jumps in:
> Eyebrown shakes his head ruefully, then, "Say, Lisa, take a look at at
> that." They turn back to the pool table in time to watch Nightfly
> take a stroke. Just as he hits the cueball there is a brief flash of
> red from the tip of his stick. The white ball impacts the six ball,
> sending it into collision with three other balls. This starts a
> perfectly symmetrical chain reaction that sends all balls on the table
> into the pockets at the same time. Nightfly leans on his stick, face
> expressionless, waiting for the ball daemon to rack them up again.
>
> Lisa and eyebrown look at each other. "Y'know Lisa, seems to me there
> might be something funny about 'Fly's stick."
>
> Biting her lip until it bleeds to control the laughter, she mutters
> "Ok, you go ask him about it. He's very fond of his stick, very
> protective of his stick, and *I* certainly wouldn't want to be the one
> casting asperations on it..." licking the blood off her lips, Lisa
> goes in search of an anesthetic, the tasty kind...
>
> Nightfly leans down and breaks the balls. Another flash of red. This
> time the balls careen around the table, finally lining themselves up
> and filing into the far left corner pocket, one after the other, in
> numerical sequence.
>
> "Doesn't look like you're going to get a shot for a while, Lisa."
> They sat back down at the card table.
>
> "That's okay. They're having fun and " (never interrupt a man
> exercising his talent she injects mentally) "I'd rather play cards
> anyway. Shall we take Gene at...uh...challenge Gene to some Euchre?"
> Peering around into the growing gloom, she mutters "Damn I'm
> thirsty.."
>
> "What happened to those drinks?" said Lisa.
>
> "Poly's been preoccupied, and her daemons tend to stop paying
> attention at times like these. They'll be along." Eyebrown and Lisa
> watched Nightfly shoot. On the next break, the balls formed
> themselves into a vertical pyramid, then filpped off into the pockets
> in sequence, counterclockwise.
>
> "Sayyy, he's awfully good with that thang, ain't he?" she says,
> drumming scarlett nails on the tabletop. "Sorry Poly's missing all the
> entertainment. Its a whomping great party..."
>
>
> Lisa
>
> --
> |\ _,,,--,,_ ,) Do not meddle in the affairs of cats
> /,`.-'`' -, ;-;;' for they are subtle, and will shed
> |,4- ) )-,_ ) /\ on your computer...
> '---''(_/--' (_/-'

[Next appendix] | [Return to index for Appendix A7] | [Return to index for Appendix A]