8th Edition
A Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to everyone! Welcome to the 8th FreeWheeling. Did you finish reading that lengthy 7th edition yet? This issue is full of humour and Christmas fun for all. Be sure to check out the uniquely "Terra" version of 'A Christmas Carol', as well as the links to Christmas web sites. Enjoy!
BabyGirl and Firefly (Editors)
![[Image: Candy Cane]](canetr.gif)
The biggest game news right now is TerraForming, which is well on its way to completion and installation. The new layout features Hamelin as the central point of the game, with most zones connected and linked in what we hope is a more logical set up. While the new arrangement will take getting used to, we've tried to balance it so that it will not be too confusing to anyone familiar with the current layout. Exciting new features are planned for the "new" game, including more interactive mobiles, readable texts in the Hamelin library, and a new newbie zone to replace Genesis. Watch for the new quest, "Rescue" to make its appearance soon: In the time when the lighthouse was mysteriously off, a boat has run aground on the rocks; Your mission is to stop it from sinking, any way you can! Several various game, zone and/or quest bugs have been fixed since the last FreeWheeling, which are too numerous to list here (read INFO WORKDONE on the game, however!). Also, the Bard's hint prices have been slashed in half, now only costing five percent in credits of what the quest is worth in experience (go on...you know you want those Glacier hints for only 500 now!).
At TerraFirmA, Volund, Archvile and SickBoy have made the leap from Apprentice to Counsel since the last issue. Recent Apprentices are Tyban and Mav. Lister and Nirvana have announced their MUD-engagement, a date for the wedding is to be arranged. At the Terradome, Adonis and Firefly have been promoted to Stalwart, and Tyban is the newest Counsel.
The new TerraFirmA Tourist Guide, produced by Cryogenius, is now in! Check it out, and contribute stories of your own travels in the land of Terra!
Submitted by Mardi
As a result of an overwhelming lack of requests, and with research help from that renowned scientific journal SPY magazine (January, 1990)--I am pleased to present the annual scientific inquiry into Santa Claus.
1) No known species of reindeer can fly. BUT there are 300,000 species of living organisms yet to be classified, and while most of these are insects and germs, this does not COMPLETELY rule out flying reindeer which only Santa has ever seen.
2) There are 2 billion children (persons under 18) in the world. BUT since Santa doesn't (appear) to handle the Muslim, Hindu, Jewish and Buddhist children, that reduces the workload to 15% of the total--378 million according to Population Reference Bureau. At an average (census) rate of 3.5 children per household, that's 91.8 million homes. One presumes there's at least one good child in each.
3) Santa has 31 hours of Christmas to work with, thanks to the different time zones and the rotation of the earth, assuming he travels east to west (which seems logical). This works out to 822.6 visits per second. This is to say that for each Christian household with good children, Santa has 1/1000th of a second to park, hop out of the sleigh, jump down the chimney, fill the stockings, distribute the remaining presents under the tree, eat whatever snacks have been left, get back up the chimney, get back into the sleigh and move on to the next house. Assuming that each of these 91.8 million stops are evenly distributed around the earth (which, of course, we know to be false but for the purposes of our calculations we will accept), we are now talking about .78 miles per household, a total trip of 75-1/2 million miles, not counting stops to do what most of us must do at least once every 31 hours, plus feeding and etc. This means that Santa's sleigh is moving at 650 miles per second, 3,000 times the speed of sound. For purposes of comparison, the fastest man-made vehicle on earth, the Ulysses space probe, moves at a poky 27.4 miles per second--a conventional reindeer can run, tops, 15 miles per hour.
4) The payload on the sleigh adds another interesting element. Assuming that each child gets nothing more than a medium-sized lego set (2 pounds), the sleigh is carrying 321,300 tons, not counting Santa, who is invariably described as overweight. On land, conventional reindeer can pull no more than 300 pounds. Even granting that "flying reindeer" (see point #1) could pull TEN TIMES the normal amount, we cannot do the job with eight, or even nine. We need 214,200 reindeer. This increases the payload--not even counting the weight of the sleigh--to 353,430 tons. Again, for comparison - this is four times the weight of the Queen Elizabeth.
5) 353,000 tons traveling at 650 miles per second creates enormous air resistance--this will heat the reindeer up in the same fashion as spacecraft re-entering the earth's atmosphere. The lead pair of reindeer will absorb 14.3 QUINTILLION joules of energy. Per second. Each. In short, they will burst into flame almost instantaneously, exposing the reindeer behind them, and create deafening sonic booms in their wake. The entire reindeer team will be vaporized within 4.26 thousandths of a second. Santa, meanwhile, will be subjected to centrifugal forces 17,500.06 times greater than gravity. A 250-pound Santa (which seems ludicrously slim) would be pinned to the back of his sleigh by 4,315,015 pounds of force.
In conclusion--If Santa ever DID deliver presents on Christmas Eve, he spontaneously combusted.
Submitted by Luckyspin
We are the children of the Eighties. We are not the first "lost generation" nor today's lost generation; in fact, we think we know just where we stand--or are discovering it as we speak.
We are the ones who played with Lego Building Blocks when they were just building blocks, and gave Malibu Barbie crew cuts with safety scissors that never really cut.
We collected Garbage Pail Kids, and Cabbage Patch Kids, and My Little Ponies, and Hot Wheels, and He-Man action figures, and we thought She-Ra looked just a little bit like I would when I was a woman. Big Wheels and bicycles with streamers were the way to go, and sidewalk chalk was all you needed to build a city.
Imagination was the key. It made the Ewok Treehouse big enough for you to be Luke, and the kitchen table and an old sheet dark enough to be a tent in the forest. Your world was the backyard and it was all you needed. With your pink portable tape player, Debbie Gibson sang back up to you and everyone wanted a skirt like the Material Girl and a glove like Michael Jackson's.
Today, we are the ones who sing along with Bruce Springsteen and The Bangles perfectly, and have no idea why. We recite lines with the Ghostbusters and still look to The Goonies for a great adventure. We flip through T.V. stations and stop at The A Team and Knight Rider and Fame and laugh with The Cosby Show and Family Ties and Punky Brewster and "what you talkin' 'bout Willis?" We hold strong affections for The Muppets and The Gummy Bears, and why did they take the Smurfs off the air? After-school-specials were only about cigarettes and step-families, the Polka Dot Door was nothing like Barney, and aren't the Power Rangers just Voltron reincarnated?
We are the ones who still read Nancy Drew and the Hardy Boys, the Bobbsey Twins, Beverly Clearly and Judy Blume, Richard Scary and the Electric Company.
Friendship bracelets were ties you couldn't break and friendship pins went on shoes--preferably high-top Velcro Reebox--and pegged jeans were in, as were Units belts and layered socks, jean jackets and jams, charm necklaces and side pony tails and just tails. Rave was a girl's best friend; braces with coloured rubber bands made you cool. The backdoor was always open, and Mom served only red Kool-Aid to the neighbourhood kids--never drank New Coke. Entertainment was cheap and lasted for hours. All you needed to be a princess was high heels and an apron; the Sit'n'Spin always made you dizzy but never made you stop; Pogoballs were dangerous weapons, and Chinese Jump Ropes never failed to trip someone. In your Underoos you were Wonder Woman or Spider Man or R2D2 and in your tree house you were king.
In the Eighties, nothing was wrong. Did you know the president was shot? Star Wars was not only a movie. Did you ever play in a bomb shelter? Did you see the Challenger explode or feed the homeless man? We forgot Vietnam, watched Tiananmen Square on CNN and bought pieces of the Berlin Wall at the store. AIDS was not the number one killer in the United States.
We didn't start the fire, Billy Joel. In the Eighties, we redefined the American Dream, and those years defined us. We are the generation in between strife, and facing strife and not turning our backs. The Eighties may have made us idealistic, but it's that idealism that will push us and be passed on to our children--the first children of the twenty-first century. Never forget: We are the children of the Eighties.
If this is familiar, you are one of us... pass it on to all the others....
Submitted by BabyGirl
Top Ten Drug-Using Cartoon Suspects:
- 10. Gargamel
- Most likely LSD. Spends his life in pursuit of little blue guys in androgynous white outfits, and mentally abusing his cat. What does he plan to do with the blue dwarfs when he catches them anyway?
- 9. Olive Oil
- Probably Dexatrim abuse, maybe some amphetamines. Who is that skinny?! She might even be anorexic, she is always giving her burger to her friend. One side question, what the hell are Popeye and Brutus thinking? They almost made the list just for courting her.
- 8. Snagglepuss
- Can't explain it. Maybe it's the name, or the look, but he is suspicious.
- 7. He-Man
- This is an easy one. I mean, come on! `Roid Monkey #1. "BY THE POWER OF ANABOL!!" Makes me want to root for Skeletor. Alone in his castle, hitting the weights. And on top of that he even injects the shit in his pet tiger. Animal Abuse!
- 6. Yogi
- 5. & Boo Boo
- We all know what is really in those picnic baskets. They go back to the cave and trip.
- 4. Droopy
- The number one downer abuser in toon land. Can't someone slip him an upper every year or two? The only time I ever saw him happy is when he sees the picture of the babe.
- 3. Dopey Dwarf
- He openly admits it. The other dwarfs deny involvement, but they are under investigation. Allegations are that Doc is writing some extra prescriptions for Sneezy, and all the guys are partaking.
- 2. Daffy Duck
- If Daffy isn't using crack, Marion Barry is clean! He is so wired, he bounces around on his head without pain and blows his beak off all the time. Some symptoms might be from "daffiness", but Haldol wouldn't even work for him. Though it might for his buddy, Porky, with Tourette's Syndrome.
- 1. Shaggy
- By far the #1 suspect. His clothes, his hair, his bad goatee, the boy converses with dogs! But all of this is nothing until you go to the Munchie Factor. Anybody who averages 9.3 dog treats consumed per episode does pot. And look at the way him and his friends painted that van! SCOOBY DOOBIE DOO, WHERE ARE YOU? WE'VE GOT SOME POT TO SMOKE NOW.
Everyone remembers the cartoon show Scooby-Doo from their early childhood, right? But something we may not remember is what the show was really all about. As I've grown older, it has become clearer to me what Fred, Shaggy, Daphne, Velma, and Scooby were actually doing traversing the continent, foiling crimes of all sorts in the Mystery Machine.
What We Remember: Four teenagers and their trusty dog gallop across the country in their purple and green van, solving mysteries of all sorts--and in the process they meet all kinds of interesting people.
The Truth: Four high-school dropouts and their sentient dog ride around the country in their psychedelic love machine, earning their way by selling drugs. Occasionally they take some old guy's mask off to solve a mystery.
It may be a little hard to swallow, but let's take a look at the evidence... Take Shaggy. Not only is he an inspiration for the current "grunge" scene, with his sloppy dress and facial hair, but Shaggy is obviously a "burner", i.e.: he smokes marijuana. Why do you think he is constantly hungry? Shaggy can make a six foot hoagie and swallow it whole.
Consider Scooby. While dogs do not generally smoke joints, Scooby gets his "high" from Scooby-Snacks, which are in fact Hash-Brownies. The facts bear this out: Whenever Scooby or, for that matter, Shaggy eat a Scooby-Snack, they go ape! It just blows their minds and they do whatever they are told, because they are so lit! Scooby is also hungry all the time.
The other characters do not actively take part in the stoner-fest that Shaggy and Scooby do, but selling the drugs helps support their jaunts across the country (and the world--they drove to China once). These other characters do have their own peculiarities however. . . .
Take Fred and Daphne. They are always splintering off from the group to go "solve the case" by themselves. It's no real mystery what these two are really doing--they're getting busy in the back of the Mystery Machine. Daphne, with her pretty, pink legs and Fred are constantly doing the nasty. Fred, by the way, is clearly pumped up on steroids. One thing that remains a mystery, however, is why he always wore that stupid scarf around his neck. Hickies? We may never know.
Consider Velma. Everyone's least favorite of the cast. As it turned out in the later episodes, she was apparently into bestiality. How else do you explain the appearance of Scrappy-Doo? Scrappy, who was a dog, yet spoke perfect English, was obviously a product of Velma and Scooby.
Let's review: The kids spent their teenage years driving around the world in a custom van, smoking dope, shooting steroids, eating hash brownies, and tripping out, sometimes with their dog.
And they say modern television's bad. . . .
Submitted by Someone
Luckyspin says 'i really need to sort outa full colour term for nix =('
Luckyspin says '+u'
Cyn says 'nixu?'
Cyn blinks, then slaps her forehead and screams 'DOH!'
Cyn blushes a lovely shade of red.
Submitted by Robin Hood
Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the game,
Not a creature was stirring, for players the same.
The stockings were hung by the furnace with care.
In hopes that by morning, they'd all still be there.
Me and Maid Marian were just ready for bed,
I wore pyjamas, she a paper bag on her head.
When up on the roof, I heard a big crash,
I thought it was a burglar, I was gonna kick ass!
I went out on the fire escape, looked up in the sky,
And what did I see, but this freakin' fat guy!
With a red suit and boots that came up to his ass,
In the moonlight he looked a lot like Lucas.
He had a big sled, being pulled by reindeer.
He called one of them Dancer, I tried not to sneer.
As he crept off the roof, it became clear to me,
That this guy was lookin' to steal my TV!
Over his shoulder, he had a big sack.
He came down the stairs, while I planned my attack.
I waited a second, till the time it seemed ripe.
Bopped him on the head, * botta bing * with a pipe!
He fell to the floor, with a groan and a thud.
I was kinda surprised that I didn't see blood.
Instead, he rolled over, looked me in the eye.
When I saw who I'd hit, I near started to cry.
I said "Hey! Yo Santa, I'm sorry all right?"
"Not for nuttin'," he said, "but this just ain't my night!
I got lost in the Catacombs, got stuck in some pits.
Had a near miss in Angels, Rudolph's got the shits...."
"I'm out all freakin' night, I'm bustin' my hump.
But I can't finish now, not with this lump!
So do me a favour, and be a real pal.
Take over for me...be Santa Sal?"
I say "Yo! I'm from Sherwood, I ain't right for the
part."
But he says that "Santa Claus" comes from the heart.
He made me an offer I couldn't refuse:
Stop at every house....and get free Terra booze!
I got into the suit, jumped on to the sleigh,
Wondering just why it was reindeer smelled that way...
Took off on my mission, didn't want to be late,
While old Nick spent the night hosin' my date.
That night I was Santa, bringing kids joy and bliss,
If you don't believe that...then hey, jingle dis!
Since then I been with him, each year in the cold.
Riding shotgun with Santa, 'cause he's fat, and he's old.
I'm his number one helper, I've been deputised.
So this Christmas Eve, don't you be surprised
If you hear a voice say, real loud and abrupt:
"Merry Christmas to all, thanks a lot...shut up!"
Submitted by Luckyspin
Submitted by Lucas
The Banker was dead: to begin with. There is no doubt whatever about that. The register of his burial was signed by Luckyspin, The Crier, the Priest, the chief moaner, Zaphod [That should be mourner, Ed.] and Death. The Storekeeper signed it. And the Storekeeper's name was good upon Change, for anything he chose to put his hand to.
The Banker was as dead as a door-nail. The Storekeeper knew he was dead? Of course he did. How could it be otherwise? The Storekeeper and he were partners for I don't know how many years. The Storekeeper was his sole executor, his sole administrator, his sole assign, his sole residuary legatee, his sole friend, and sole mourner. Yep, he was in Silicon Hell all right!
The Storekeeper never painted out The Banker's name. There it stood, years afterwards, above the shops: Storekeeper and Banker. Oh! But he was a tight-fisted hand at the grind-stone, the Storekeeper, a squeezing, wrenching, grasping, scraping, clutching, covetous, old sinner! External heat and cold had little influence on him. Nor did people. A player would chat to him in the store about armour, all to a reply of 'Piss off you loser!', which didn't go down too well. But what did he care! It was the very thing he liked.
The store itself was busy, but cold. The helper, Sophie, was busy in her little way. The Storekeeper had a very small fire, but Sophie's fire was so very much smaller that it looked like one coal. But she couldn't replenish it, for fear of getting fired for wastefulness. Still, she worked dutifully in a way that begged wonderment.
`A merry Christmas, uncle! God save you!' cried a cheerful voice. It was the voice of the Storekeeper's niece, Firefly, who came upon him so quickly that this was the first intimation he had of her approach.
`Bah!' said the Storekeeper, `Humbug!'
`Don't be cross, uncle!' said Firefly.
`What else can I be,' returned the uncle, `when I live in such a world of tosspot players as this? Merry Christmas!'
`Uncle!' pleaded Firefly. But the Storekeeper had no time for his niece.
`Good afternoon,' said he. So she left. Or rather, she cartwheeled out of the store.
On leaving, a group of Counsels walked in, for it was Lister, Nirvana, Mardi and SickBoy.
'We're collecting for destitute Scottish newbies,' said Lister.
'Who have fallen on hard times,' added Nirvana.
`Don't they know about Genesis?' growled the Storekeeper.
`Yes but they need more,' said SickBoy. 'What shall I put you down for?'
'A weapon or food is usually what is given' suggested Mardi.
The Storekeeper pondered for a second.
`Zap the lot of them. Now bugger off!!' The Storekeeper replied.
Horrified, the group left and headed off to the Inn to get pissed.
After they went, at closing up time, Sophie asked for Christmas day to have off.
`Yeah, get real!' said the Storekeeper before shutting up. Sophie translated this as 'no' and sighed heavily before heading home. But she decided to take the day off anyway just to annoy the S.O.B.
Back at his miserly bedsit in Beilefeld, The Storekeeper came to the front door. Searching for his key, he thought he saw an unusual reflection in the doorknob, but quickly dismissed it. He did pause, with a moment's irresolution, before he shut the door; and he did look cautiously behind. Quite satisfied, he closed his door, and locked himself in and sat down before the fire to take his gruel. Then off he went to sleep.
After several turns, he started to hear bells ringing. This might have lasted half a minute, or a minute, but it seemed an hour. The bells ceased as they had begun, together. They were succeeded by a clanking noise, deep down below; as if some person were dragging a heavy chain over the casks in the wine merchant's cellar. He then remembered to have heard that ghosts in haunted houses were described as dragging chains.
`It's humbug still!' said the Storekeeper, to no-one in particular. `I won't believe it.'
His colour changed though, when, without a pause, it came on through the heavy door, and passed into the room before his eyes. Upon its coming in, the dying flame leaped up, as though it cried: `I know him; The Banker's Ghost!' and fell again.
`What do you want with me?' asked the Storekeeper.
`You've been a twisted and bitter man. Concerned only with yourself and your business. Just like I was. And look where that has gotten me. You have shown no love for players or others and increased the price of goods sold to you to a ridiculous level. Way above inflation. Oh yeah!'
'So?' said the Storekeeper.
`Hear me!' cried the Ghost. `My time is nearly gone.' The ghost wailed and howled and rattled his chains.
`I will,' said the Storekeeper. `But don't overdo the acting'.
The ghost checked his lines, then continued.
`You will be haunted,' resumed the Ghost, `by Three Spirits.' 'Without their visits,' said the Ghost, `you cannot hope to shun the path I tread. Expect the first tomorrow, when the bell tolls One.'
And with that the ghost disappeared. Poof!
The Storekeeper thought about what had happened then decided to have a wank in bed to forget about it. Amen!
On waking up he found it was late at night but he felt fully rested. Checking the Swatch watch he'd found in Rome, it seemed he had slept for a full 24 hours. 'Weird' he thought, and so scratched his ass and pondered how he could have been out for the count so long.
'Shit!' he thought, realising the Store was losing business. But before he could jump out of bed, there was a blinding flash. Out of the debris and cinders BabyGirl appeared, her satin nightie, serving as an angel costume, was smouldering and revealing a tad too much.
'Woaaah' said BabyGirl, chewing gum. 'Gotta change my entrance message soon.'
'Who the devil are you?!' gasped The Storekeeper.
'k...' smiled BabyGirl, then curtsied shyly. `I'm the spirit of Christmas past, which means I gotta take you on a trip. You're gonna learn all about yourself. Ya ready?'
'Not really' sighed the Storekeeper. But he waved her on nonetheless.
'Oh btw, if we've got time, I must show you my cool PC.'
Clouds started to gather in the room and everything went wavy for a few seconds. Harps could be heard ringing to give the effect more boost.
The pair found themselves in a land called Terradome in a place called Brookes. It was eerily quiet except for a few programmers testing their new toy. Boogie and Xenon were checking out the code and quests while Astar and Turbo were happily testing it. They made their way to the Village Store. There, alone, with no-one to sell items to was a rather dejected junior Storekeeper. Sitting in his trolley, he stared at the scroll, wishing he could only sell the scalemail.
The Storekeeper started to feel nostalgic at the sight of his glossy new store. The paint was fresh and a 'New Management' sign on the window made him start to cry with joy.
'Ooo...I loved this time. I did look bored, but with the coding and all, I had the potential to make a huge killing on all the objects I bought. It made me stinking rich,' said the Storekeeper.
'But were you really happy?' asked BabyGirl.
'Yeah' said the Storekeeper. 'I was in love with the coders for making me stinking rich :)'
'Fair enough,' smirked BabyGirl. 'So at least you were happy, unlike now.'
'Yeah,' sighed the Storekeeper. 'I miss that.'
'You can still be happy...' said BabyGirl, '...by sharing with people'. The Storekeeper pondered over the word 'sharing'.
'I should take you back now,' said BabyGirl.
'Oh? Shame,' said the Storekeeper. 'Fancy a quick one?'
With that, the Storekeeper was bolted out of the past quicker than a bottle of Bud down Cyn's neck.
'Lech!' snorted BabyGirl, who then popped off to sleep.
The Storekeeper looked about and found himself standing next to Panda. He leapt onto a table and screamed 'Eeeeeeeeek!'
'What's up m8?' enquired Panda.
'Are you a ghost?' asked the Storekeeper timidly.
'Who me? nah!' smirked Panda, shooting off in his Bamboomobile.
The Storekeeper sighed a huge sigh of relief.
Vardick tapped him on the shoulders. 'Ahem!'
'Oh Bollocks,' said the Storekeeper.
Gly cackled, and slapped the Storekeeper across the face with a wet haddock.
'What? Ahhh Noooo!' cried the Storekeeper. 'Not both of you?'
'Yep!' replied the two, grinning evilly at the sad Storekeeper. 'We are the Ghosts of Christmas Present!'
Zooooooom, Zaaaaaam, Zummmmm, ((c)Special effects R Us). The three of them were brushed up in a passing tornado (Lister?), and before they knew it, they were magically taken to Sophie's flat in downtown Hamelin.
There, in the rather sorry place, Sophie was busy preparing the evening meal, which usually consisted of nicked bits of waybread and some vegetarian stirfry donated by Firefly. Sophie's son, Tiny Tim, known as Cryo to his mates, was happily playing with some bits of string, trying to make some sort of web. (As to why he's called Tiny Tim, umm.. well.. that's up to you to work out, but from what Bliss says... umm.. but I digress :) back to the story!)
Vardick, Gly and the Storekeeper looked on as Sophie and Tiny Tim sat down and started to eat the food. There wasn't much to keep their stomachs full, but they looked at each other and seemed to be surprisingly happy.
'They haven't got much money, but are much happier than you,' noted Gly.
'Yes,' said the Storekeeper. 'But are they really happy? Can they see us?'
'Nah!' Vardick said, looking for some spare beer in the flat. 'What you have here is real happiness. They may not have much to go around but that doesn't matter to them. They have each other and that's what is important.'
The Storekeeper shivered at this thought.
'Well, obviously a Sky Satellite System would bring much more fun into their lives' added Vardick. Gly agreed with Vardick.
The Storekeeper looked into the eyes of Sophie and started to feel a warmth from her, one that he had been careless not to notice before.
'What reason does she have to be happy?' thought the Storekeeper to himself.
'Right, we're off down the pub' said Gly. And with that they were gone. Well, actually, they walked away.
'Who will take me back?' shouted the Storekeeper after them.
But they were gone (i.e.: they had beer on their minds).
'Muhahahahahaha,' cried out a voice from nowhere.
The Storekeeper realised his question was about to be answered.
From nowhere, a Chaos Vortex opened up and spewed out Cyn.
Dressed all in flaming red, from her high leather Dragon boots to her armoured breastplate and feathered helm, she looked like an extra from a Swedish porn film. The Storekeeper grinned at her mischievously.
'Don't even think about it!' sneered Cyn at him. Before he could reply, in what seemed like a dream, Cyn sneered then ripped the Storekeeper's head off to use as a beer mug.
When he recovered, The Storekeeper found himself in a land he did not quite recognise. There, beside him, was Cyn grinning evilly at him.
'Where am I? asked the Storekeeper.
'I am the spirit of Christmas future,' said Cyn. 'And this is the future you will have. This the Terraformed land, changed by the Creator, to a new and wonderful place.'
'Well, I recognise that we are in Hamelin now, with such nicely placed rooms in Hamelin street and Water street [Obviously put in by a TFM member], but where is my store?' asked the Storekeeper.
'Well, you snuffed it in the great fire of 97!' cackled Cyn. 'Some counsels got kinda carried away with a newbie and accidentally set alight all of Genesis and the surrounding area. Luckyspin wasn't half pissed. But he realised they were only trying to be helpful, so he didn't punish them too much.'
'What happened to them?' he inquired.
'Oh...see those two toads in the street?' The two toads croaked and smiled at them. 'Dios and Mav! Well...they keep the flies away in the summer,' smirked Cyn.
The Storekeeper smiled at Dios and Mav.
'What has happened to my store?' whimpered the Storekeeper.
'Oh...you're gonna love this' said Cyn. 'Hang On!!!!'
And with that, the air screamed, and a Chaos Vortex whipped them both up then spewed then out in the new village, north of Hamelin. There, where the old store once stood, was a bright, sparkly TEXAS DIY store. Inside, MindFlayer, Archvile, Bluetonic and Volund were busy, in their not-very-sexy DIY uniforms, selling and buying stuff to the busy public.
'Ever since this superstore went up, the public has gone crazy.'
'Haven't they missed my store? At all?'
'Not at all,' grinned Cyn at him. 'They're far cheaper than you, and much nicer with the customers. You're not missed one iota. Plus, with all that extra business, Luckyspin was able to franchise his set up to the world. He's now listed in the Sunday Times' "Richest 500 People".'
'Wow!' exclaimed the Storekeeper. 'But all my business is gone.'
The Storekeeper frowned at this, and began to realise what a mess his life was in.
'What a mess my life is in' he said, to emphasise the point.
'You can still change it, if you want' said Cyn. 'But only you can do it'
'How? How can I change it?' he asked.
'You mean after three spirits (well four) visiting you, you still haven't got it?' asked Cyn, amazed.
'Well...sort of,' he said. 'Well...actually, yeah...but I was only taking the piss,' he smirked at her.
Cyn scowled and squeezed the Storekeeper by the balls till he fell unconscious. She cackled, then disappeared through a Chaos Vortex.
The Storekeeper woke up and found himself in bed. It was Christmas morning, and children were playing noisily in the street.
Looking out of the window, he was about to utter 'Humbug!' when his thoughts went back to the spirits that had visited him.
'Goodness me. It's Christmas Day!!' he exclaimed. 'And I've not done a thing for it'.
Quickly, he dressed and ran out of his bedsit and up the street to the Beilefeld shops. With his money, he bought presents and food, and even popped into the Hobbit's armpit where he bought a round of drinks for everyone (which amazed Rubin so much he wet his pants).
'Merry Christmas!' he shouted, as he skipped through the streets. He smiled at beggars and would stop and talk to person he hadn't spoken to in years. He called at his niece's house and, without any word from Firefly, ushered her to follow him. Firefly did as she was told but was completely baffled by her uncle's nature, which seemed eccentric to say the least. Carrying loads of presents, she naturally assumed old uncle Storekeeper (well, his name is Gary but he doesn't like being called it) had gone do-lally.
They passed by the Hanger, where Lucas was busy chatting up another female newbie, as usual. Honey and Bambi were busy advising her to ignore his sweet words.
'Merry Christmas,' cried out the Storekeeper. 'Merry Christmas,' they replied in turn. Luckyspin appeared and wished him Merry Christmas too.
'You're very happy,' noted Luckyspin.
'Yes, it's such a joyous season,' he said, and off he went with Firefly. Luckyspin smiled.
By the time they arrived in Hamelin, snow was falling (which is kind of handy, as this is a Christmas story. I mean, if it was pissing down it wouldn't have the same effect, now would it?). The Storekeeper knocked on the door of his assistant.
'Whoever can that be?' asked Tiny Tim to Sophie. Sophie sheepishly opened the door.
'Merry Christmas!' proclaimed the Storekeeper, and pushed his way into their flat. Firefly followed him in.
'Why...Storekeeper! What brings you here on this day, of all days?' asked Sophie.
'It's Christmas, young Sophie. And I realise how mean and miserly I have been to you. I want to make it up to you.'
'Really?' gasped Sophie.
'Yes, and to prove it, I have lots of presents and food for you!' he said, prompting Firefly to give out the presents.
'And I've got a delicious roast goose for us to eat, plus the usual vegetables and puddings and stuff you only really enjoy after the Queen's speech.'
'Hurrah!' cried out Tiny Tim when he opened his present to find the latest Sony play station. 'This'll keep me busy for months, and take my mind off any schoolwork!'
Sophie opened her present to find a portable PC and a CD ROM of Charles Dickens' 'A Christmas Carol' to check out.
'Topical,' noted Sophie.
Firefly smiled, and smiled even more to open her rather small present and find it was a ticket to see the latest Jodie Foster film.
They all smiled (like they do in most of the endings in these FW stories), and started to tuck into the food.
'God bless us, every one," said Tiny Tim.
'Oh...' said Sophie to the Storekeeper, 'I've got a new job at TEXAS DIY!' She beamed.
Submitted by The Merry Elf
20 Ways To Confuse Santa Claus
This is the story of how the angel got on top of the Christmas Tree:
One Christmas, things weren't going too well for Santa up there at the North Pole. Mrs. Claus was sick, the elves were on strike, and the reindeer all had diarrhoea. Santa was totally frazzled. In the midst of all this, an angel came in with a tree and asked Santa, "Where would you like me to put the Christmas Tree?"
All I Needed to Know About Life, I learned from Santa
Encourage people to believe in you.
Always remember who's naughty and who's nice.
Don't pout.
It's as much fun to give as it is to receive.
Some days it's ok to feel a little chubby. ![[Image: Santa In Sleigh]](sleigh.gif)
Make your presents known.
Always ask for a little bit more than what you really want.
Bright red can make anyone look good.
Wear a wide belt and no-one will notice how many pounds you've gained.
If you only show up once a year, everyone will think you're very important.
Whenever you're at a loss for words, say: "HO, HO, HO!"
Top Ten Resolutions You Won't Keep:
10. I will not buy magazines with AOL disks bound in just to get another 1.44MB disk.
9. I will stop sending email to my roommate.
8. I resolve to work with neglected children...my own.
7. I will answer my snail mail with the same enthusiasm as I answer my email.
6. When I subscribe to a newsgroup or mailing list, I will read all the mail I get from it.
5. I will stay on the computer as long as I want. What? OK dear...I'm coming. Never mind.
4. No more downloads from alt.binaries.*.
3. I resolve to back up my new 1GB hard drive daily...well, once a week...monthly, perhaps...
2. I will spend less than one hour a day on the Net. Your standard response: "And happy holidays to you too, you bastard!"
1. I won't try to get onto the Netscape ftp site as soon as a new Navigator beta comes out.
0. When I hear, "Where do you want to go today?" I won't reply: "Microsoft Tech Support."
-1. I will read the manual.
-2. I will think of a password other than "password".
-3. I will limit my top ten lists to ten items.
Christmas Links:
http://www.netsurf.com/12sites.html (The Twelve Sites of Christmas.)
http://www.christmas.com/xmas.files (Does Santa really exist? The truth is out there....)
http://www.holidaycards.com/goodbad.htm (Have you been naughty or nice this year? Take this test to find out.)
http://www.familygames.com/quiz (A Christmas trivia quiz.)
http://www.interads.co.uk/puzzle (Interactive Christmas slide puzzles.)
http://www.neosoft.com/nikki (Need a last-minute present that won't drain your wallet? Gift ideas made from recycled "AOL" disks.)
http://lamar.colostate.edu/~ddave/grinchnet.html (Alternatively...if you're feeling grinchy, check out the "grinchnet"!)
Contributions are always welcomed by the editors: send them by mudmail to BabyGirl or Firefly, or by e-mail to BabyGirl. Many thanks to the contributors to this issue.