Neverending Story [Game]

[AGAG]

Pekka is a HERO now? I see!

she hugged him in his sovietalien uniform that he carried around. The mycologist was half dead because of a sidetracked bullet from the kalashnikov and the canadian had passed out because of the alcohol. "What do you say, my dear obs. girl, if we go to outer space? There I can show you the world from it's heights and you will no longer need these kind of shit friends that get you into towns that are not Vilnius.. Trust me! I have changed drastically in the last few days" He was caressing her plait in a non-rapeful manner and he said it with such a charming and non-drunk voice that the intoxicated girl fell for it inmediatly. "Yes yes yes! Give me one minute to disgorge and gush and I'll say yes once more! Let's go to this outer space and get me out of here my dear prince!" And hand in hand they went to the soviet space ship, it was a refurbished T-34 with enhanced flame throwers. As a goodbye ritual, they both set the town on fire not taking heed of the bleeding salvadorean. The propulsors were initiated after the fire works. And off they went!.

When they arrived there, she...

[ÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖ]

Aha! You thought you were smart now by sending me out of our story while you are digging shitholes in your garden. As far away as you could. Bah! Outer Space! Bahbah. Butt I am like an india-rubber-ball. I rebound...


met the pregnant Pekka-wife, Harvester4. "So there you are your Scoundrelpekka. I have been waiting for you. What took you so long. Was it that fucking girl, you hate so much that hindered you. Again! From going home to your own little wife, that expects your child?"
"Hrm,hrmelihrm", said Pekka. "Njaou. I have an Eartling with me and I will introduce her to you. This is the irritating OBS-girl with one plaite instead of two, to look older"
"Huh, HUH, said Harvester4. What on Excessa are you saying?? You brought that piece here? To me? Are you out of your senses? And what will you do with pregnant me?"
"It is not that simple, pregnant wife. I love you in my alienway, butt, butt a man needs alternations and it so happens that she and I have a love-hate-story since a long time and just now love is strongest. So it is nothing anyone can do about that. Love is love!!"
"Hallo, hallo, what kind of shittalk is that. She can't stay! Send her back with next beamimg. Pronto! Capisce! Otherwise I will kill her and it will be messy"
"You will do no such thing, hear me! You two have to be friends and she can be our au pair for the baby."
"Over my dead body. Pekka! Send her back. Now! "
The girl said nothing, butt big tears fell over her freckled cheeks and when Pekka, that was very sensitive to just tears saw that he...

[AGAG]

he realized the mistake he had made and tried to make up for it. His heart was sore but he didn't know the best way to express himself, he mumbled and said "Hmm... hey!... I, well, don't know how but... I know! What if get you pregnant too! that way you'll both be even and... no? Butt I don't want to see you sad and..." And the boisterous smile was cracked with heart soreness. Harvester4 intervened "What!? She is still here? And you offered WHAT?" She got up from her pregnant queen chair and got an alien laser whip with her. With the most mad of demeanors she screamed in a barely intelligible speech "Come here cute girl! I'm going to wipe off all of those big tears and those fucking freckles... Inch off" And pekka ran to protect her, leading her to the evacuation chamber of the ship. "You'll be safe here. The same theather, the same audience.." He said. The girl was still with just tears on her cheeks. She didn't say goodbye at all and the russian T-34 left her in a strange town that had a lot of snow. Sitting on a park bench she finally got back her speech and asked herself while looking at the broken sun through a tree. "What just happened? What did I do to deserve this and, and... Is this FINALLY Vilnius?!. I had found the way and the rotten apple... no, I just. want a warm bed...and um.. no?.. noone?"

In the park there was a smiling men that heard her sad voice. He was reading a book, it was a piss stained edition of Rimbaud. He got up and approached to the bench "You see, I don't know if you remember me. You almost killed me a while ago TWICE, ha! Kalashnikov and cannibalism, what a combination... But you see, I don't know exactly what is wrong with your smile but it seems a bit sunk. And well! I just want to say that you can come over to my place which is actually an abandoned warehouse I just found. I walked some miles by myself through the forest with third degree burns and a bullet stuck near my left testicle when I came across this town and entered into a jazz club which healed me almost instantly! It was beautiful! One day I threw my soul to the sea and Some other day I'll find it once more... And the pond won't stop growing Until we accept from a shared prison cell.." The girl kept quiet and followed him to the warehouse which was indeed really cosy and beautifully decorated "It is a salvadorean thing" he explained "we tend to make homes from the shittiest places" He showed her his Amanita phalloides and Inocybe erubescens he had just picked up outside the jazz club. She thanked him and...

[ÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖ]

and said,"Are you sure we are in Vilnius? My father warned me, when I was a child. He said that I would end up in Vilnius, if I didn't eat all the porridge. And I ate and ate, butt here I am anyway. It isn't fair."
"Strange, strange. My mother, bless her soul, said the same to me. Eat your Salvadorian porridge or you will find yourself in Vilnius.And she was right! Butt I have found what I came for. Some Vilniosa Vulgaris Baltica. So it was a happy punishment"
"But I am not that interested in mushrooms, so I want to go home, to my father and ask him why I am just here when I so obediently ate all that horrid porrid..."
"Jaja haha! I have got enough Vilniosa Vulgaris Baltica, so if you have nothing against my thin Salvadorian person I would like to follow you, to meet your father."
"Okey, dokey. There on the square stands a bus destined to Helsinki. Let us go then."
And the two came to a very cold and dark Helsinki late at night and Öhubble hugged his lost daughter.
"Oh, there you are! I had just calculated that you would be home today. Butt who can this thin mushroomsmelly person be?"
"Oh, this is mycologist Pedro Pedro from Salvador. He did know your little darling AGAG when he was an elephantcaretaker."
"Is that so? In that case you are more than welcome to my house. All friends of AGAG are welcome!"
Pedro Pedro was obviously embarrassed. "I am not exactly a friend to AGAG. To be honest he was really a big pain in the ass in those days, and I used to beat him up. Every day. I practised my punch on him..."
"A pain in the ASS? That sounds interesting. You don't know it, butt I am really fond of just asses. My daughter once had some sort of boyfriend with a very big, red ass and he was rather nice, butt I think he has changed to a thin and restless blue ghost."
"Aha", said Pedro Pedro, with a big smile, "I think I have...

[AGAG]

what you need. It is some rare mushrooms from el salvador which are only found in the most remote elephant sheds. It's pekkametes redsicolor and I discovered it one day after I hit that AGAG guy because he called me a Trotskist. Something special for your assghost problems and hopefully for any ass related needs. Here, have some I just brought, it is a gift" And he handed them both a bottle of mashed mushrooms and they thanked him very dearly. "Now I have to go now, I remembered my ex-punch bag friend needed some lentinellus for his girlfriend's pregnancy. Haha! didn't I tell you? She is pregnant again! just one week after she gave birth to three little childs. Maybe this time he'll get quintets... well, Bye bye!" And so he left to Helsinki's airport where they deported him after finding psylocibin in his anus.

Back at home, everything was now peaceful but something grinded in mr Hubble's mind. It was a danger wound in his heart. Mr Hubble was a bit decided about his problem and on a breakfast, he talked with the girl. "This can't go on like this dear daughter" he said with a very longsome face "I am very concerned about your oscillating actions all over the world.. you appear here and then you teleport to there and that is absolutely not good for your colon!.. Also, dear daughter, this Pekka guy is chasing you all around, he's like a teleportation residue and I'm worried he will hurt you or get you pregnant like that filthy salvadorean does with his 15 year old.. no no! It makes me sick just to think about it! you need to get yourself together..." And the girl agreed, she just now realized how edgy she had been all this time and after some really insightful introspection, decided she needed to grow up a bit more. Since she already had one-plaited his hair she decided to give up on plaits and cut it short. She also started taking the bus so she wouldn't have any bike related accidents that could threaten his life. She also stopped thinking about pekka all the time and decided he was just an ilusion and not a real person. She got herself stuck in the real world and adopted a safe life style which made her father a happy men at last. She didn't read poetry at all now. "Oh dear daughter... I am so proud" He used to exclaim when she got home with her short hair. Now everyone in the snowyland was happy but after some months, she...

[ÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖ]

Oh dear, oh dear! Why did you do this to me? Cut my hair? Was it really necessary. To humiliate me so. Why? Why?...

got tired of all the splendidness. So she bought a red twoplaitswig and knot two darkgreen rosettes in every plait. And to that redred lipstick. Now she was ready to meet her new free life and she didn't care if people around her couldn't see and respect her for what she was. "Fuck the world, fuck my father, fuck Pekka Fucking and his darling, fuck the babyproducer in Salvador, that cut my hair"...
She went to her father that got a shock when he saw her darkred plaithair and redred lips. "What on earth have you done girl", he almost whispered, "Dear girl is this some sort of revolution, a late teenageprotest? What can I do to make you normal again?"
"Nothing," she said, "I must live my own life and I am going to Africa this summer. I am tired of always being so bleak and obedient and now till that shorthaired, so I intend to do something that matters."
"Oh I am so sorry", said the father, "Is all this my fault?"
"Yes and no. It was the haircutting that made it. I understood that if what I am and what I do should depend on the length of my hair I had to do something drastic to take command, and not be everyones poppet. So from now on I don't give a shit for what ANYONE thinks of me. And we can also stop talking about, what I do or not do. And go over to something more interesting. Shit, and or,masturbation for example."
"Gosh daughter", said the rather shaken Öhubble," You have really changed and I am...


This is something I should have done long ago and there is more in this post than it usually uses to be...

[AGAG]

Africa?! I am so sorry, I didn't know hair could hold this kind of rebellion...

rather no one to judge you for what you have become.. and I think, even if you are not the freckled one-plaited girl that biked her way through the world, you're still my daughter" Hubble was a bit hesitant. The darkred girl took these words to her heart but said "I will go now, my life is anywhere but here" she didn't pack anything because she had lost enough time all these years. She went directly to the airport and got into a direct flight to Burkina Faso. There she bought a magnificent ranch on the richest part of the country with about one hundred dollars, she wasn't interested in people any more and she lived her life alone in the ranch, getting food and basic goods from trees and stealing from the local markets. It was easy to live life. Unlike other times, now she didn't find anyone on the streets. There was plenty of homeless starving men which spoke the most sciurine of dialects which she didn't bother learning. She had bought a piano from an italian doctor and just read hardcore leftist books now. All day long she would just practice and practice... and then read and read...

Not surprisingly, time lost it's burden quickly. She wasn't attached to appointments, friends, works, bikes or snow. It was sunny all year long. So the only temporal measure she could use directly was books: how many books she read by week or by day. Or if Mr. Marx had finally solved all society's problems. Or if this poem finally made sense. Like a piano professor that had lived in sweden secluded from everyone for some years, she later developed symptoms of schizophrenia. One day, the windows were not in their common place. The other, gravity was boisterously playful. The next, the bedroom was stuffed with snow. The other, books talked... And she learned to live with it. She was very happy with her new acquired life and satisfied her conversation needs with imagination of which she had plenty since birth. She soon found out that a hat was a better conversationalist than anyone from El Salvador. Everything she could think of needing was there and she didn't need snow or anyone to mind her. She was happy.

One day, while stealing tomatoes in the local market...

[ÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖ]

she saw someone in the street. "Huh", she thought. "Pekka Fucking is here in Bucina Faso. My hair has grown to plaits again and I don't feel the least schizo anymore. That must depend on the fact that the mycologist's muchroomdecoct is finished. He tried to poison me and he succeded. I rushed away to the wrong Africastate. I should have gone to Tanzania butt first next summer.
In the same moment she and Pekka got eyecontact and he smiled happily. "There you are. My radar has been looking for you in two weeks now and I have come to take you home to my farm. You can see yourself as kidnapped from now on". He took her hand and they walked to the shuttle in the sunset. Twenty minutes later they landed at the Russian border and they were met by a bundle of happy goats. No wolves or not even werevolves in sight, butt snow, very, very much snow.
"You vere poisened by that muchroomtype and I regret that I didn't kill him there, in the city of living dead. Butt his time will come when we invade Salvador
So what do you think of staying here for a while. My wife is furious butt...

[AGAG]

she will never find out. She has lost her x-ray vision and she will not see you if we're careful." And they hopped in happily and hand in hand onto the russian spaceship, then they had a happy and cosy flight where they dodged the wife playfully. An eyesight scruffle. The green wife was bossing pekka all around. "CANDY... NOW!" she used to scream from time to time. The flight was fun for the not-schizo girl because she liked to play hide and seek, specially if there was an angry wife involved. When they finally arrived to El Salvador, Pekka told the wife "No no, don't worry my dear, I got this, you can stay here and rest. I will bring you some salvadorean milk candy!" And he hopped out with kalashnikovs. The girl also hopped out relived and wanted something to conquer with aswell. "I want to go and conquer with you, dear Pekka, I will be useful" Pekka agreed, but instead she got a SVD-137, she smiled and tried it with the fauna, she liked to be silent. They both stormed and burnt down nearly half of the capital with no majour trouble. No one could run 10 meters without the girl spotting him and Boom. "You call THIS a police force" She said (smiling at last) "Hahaha!". Down, there goes an officer, a little child, a little dog, a little explosion, a little store boom boom!... and finally they arrived to the shitpoet's shed. He was writing a shitpoem. Pekka entered hastily into his not-so-his room "We finally meet at last. Do you remember me?" Said pekka wielding two kalashnikovs. The salvadorean was startled "Of course I do! Are you going to kill me?" He asked, sitting in a corner with a notebook on his hands, he was also happy. "Of course I will! You got lucky with that knife the other day, but not today! Look at this beauties" And he fired through the room's only window, shattering the glass "Aren't they cute?" The salvadorean stood up and agreed "They are they are... You know, everyday I try to bury in and then dig out, and then I just stay sitting in this corner... maybe you got the solution in your hands dear Pekka". Pekka smiled "Sure I do!..." he said, aiming his left kalashnikov to the salvadorean's head and..

[ÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖ]

Huh you are murderous today...



laughed ,"Pang you are dead! Joke! Haha! Of course I don't kill my childrens father. I am only here to see my daughters".
"What are you talking about?" ;said the poet angrily.
"Oh your wife hasn't told you. Hrmm, hrmm. That is sort of embarrassing you know...I was fucking Pekka you know...Butt don't blame her. She was far from the first that was enchanted by my erotic charm."
"Butt, butt, the poet was angrier than ever before. He almost exploded, "You broke your leg and we helped you. Was this your way of saying thank you?"
"Jaja, sisi, just so. It was my thank you, to give you three beautiful daughters."
"So, my children are halfaliens and not mine?"
"No no, they are wholealiens. Your wife is one of us"

"And they are not just Pekkas first children either", said Harvester4 that came into the shed with a malicious smile."So you have children here too, Pekka. How many are there alltogether now?"
"Last time I counted it was 64, butt that is only an estimation. It can be more"...

The plaitgirl fainted!

"Oh," said Pekka, "that was a couple to many for her. She thought she was the only one for me. Butt what to do now? I don't think she will ever believe my sweet words after this".
"You are the worst scoundrel I have even heard of", said the shocked poet,"Out, out of my shed". And he took a broom and started to scoop Pekka out on the street. Harvester4 followed."Jaja, we shall leave you now. I am so sorry young man, that we took your illusions from you. Butt Pekka is a bit exstensive when it comes to fucking you know...He has his name to live up to."
She took Pekkas arm and pushed him to the shuttle.
BOOM, KABOOM, up in the air and they were gone.

Butt, butt, butt, in the shed was the plaitgirl still lying on the floor unconscious and the poet...


...

[AGAG]

That had a weird side effect

helped her with the only bed sheet he had on the entire house. It was white and barely used because it was so hot. "Here here" He said, after carrying her on here arms and leaving her on the master bed with the white sheets "You'll recover from the pekka shock here... hopefully" The poet was pissed, he didn't die and he discovered the truth about his 15 years old who was a infiltrated spy. He took everything she had and poured it all oustide the window. All the dolls and toys from her dear 15 year old were now wrecked in the middle of the street and the birds were having a midday party. But what to do about the kids? there were three of them and two of them on the way!... Then he realized they were aliens and not his kids so he called a pack of dogs to raise them for him. The alpha dog was happy and voffed when he saw his new sons and one daughter. The shitpoet finally started to clean up the house.. his girlfriend was still on school so she wouldn't come home in a couple of hours and the girl was still lying with a shock fever on the master bedroom. He started reading poems for her as soon as he finished the house renewal.

She woke up with a sever after shock in a couple of hours and she found the shitpoet reciting out loud facing the window. "Oh!" He said "You're finally here! I watched a couple of tears slide down those freckles and I was really worried.. I thought that pekka had left you in a comma or even worst a semi-colon... those things aren't jokes. But you're finally here and that is a good sign." The girl looked at the cheap sheets and laughed "What are these things? leaves?" she said looking at the strange palm-texture. He then said "Sure! those are white leaves from my garden. My ex-girlfriend sew a sheet with those since we didn't have anything to cover ourselves in october. But now she is long gone! Well, not really, she is coming home in exactly 2 hours and we better leave. She will understand when she sees all her stuff outside of the street, I don't really care. How about a cup of salvadorean shitcoffee to await?".

The girl then...

[Frederic Chopin]

Can I gently intrude in this story gentlemen?

agreed and she was a bit quiet the whole evening. The café was comfortably set near the house. It was rather untidy but the wind was relaxing. The shitpoet used to go there after his twice-a-week visits to oldland. It was getting dark and the salvadorean asked banal questions getting banal answers in return. The time went by, the 15 year old must have already had stumbled upon her things back in the house.

After sometime, the Lattes were over with. The shitpoet stared into his empty cup and said through a rather reflective demeanor "It is true that the burden of these oscillating days makes us forsake all of our yesterday's dissonances... We do our best: we choose our best forsakener. Often it is beneath a big furred coat of laughter and smiles. Maybe coffee in the evening instead or a good poem at midnight. Commonly we need all. We smile at our street, at our coffee, at our dogs, at ourselves in the mirror and so on and so forth.. Maybe this all is necessary and the dissonant parts of our oscillations must be just remembered through the heightened crest of our consonances. Maybe it is also necessary that a single smile facing a flowerbed should be mandatory to make this day more significant. Then comes the next day.. and you can just hope that a gust of wind before crossing a street will be your day lifter. Sometimes the day is just sunny and you have to thread through. Some others it is raining... Beginning with layered coats, we proceed to bury the past from our crests to a grave. The crests we so dearly worked on climbing, to the grave we left on the start. From the grave come the flowers and after some fertilizing, we pick them up. We pick them as ubiquitous ornament on our windowsills. The windowsill that stares at us prominently when we wake up and when we go to bed. When you can't go to sleep and when you don't want to wake up. Yet we still smile.. We still laugh at everything, perhaps injustly, under the sentinel's eyes. We are rebels. Nothing remains sacred since the flowers now taint the whole window and you want out. The sun can barely find its path!... And well, you may ask yourself why to put you through this boring monologue. I'm interested in the smiles I see when they appear like fairies on a dusty street. When I see a random laugh I ask what can possibly be done to deserve laughter"

The girl then...

[Karlheinz Stockhausen]

Aber doch. Can that patetic etydcomposer write neverending I think we need some German effectivity here...

The Mädchen ja, what should she do? In this godforsaken country? I know that many a German went there after the war, butt she has no reason in the world to stay there in a shed. Huh. And that was just what she understood so she went to Germany, the land of Merkel.
There she met a nice english guy from Leeds called Arnold. He was most interested in her wooltrousers and since she came from the cold north she had some to give him. It was earlier also my interest butt my enthusiasm cooled down and I sold the rest of my collection to just Arnold. I must admit that even my interest for Arnold cooled down since he got so enormously fat and I prefere more thin persons.
The girl, ja! I think she went to Leeds butt what can a Geman worldscomposer know about what those plebejs are up to. Maybe I compose a sonata about fat people. The girl...

[AGAG]

Germans really get things to waste

acknowledged the insignificance of this visit and went to a england tour with fat arnold as a light of guidance. Of course that new york was in the same train of thought when she decided to go to an english pub to watch Jazz musicians with very limited improvisational gifts. In the middle of the concert, a few hooligans raided the jazz club and made everyone sing along the Manchester United FC anthem with english machete on their hands. After some time, everyone forgot about jazz and were on a rebelious offspring against Liverpool. The girl left and Arnold stayed. Outside, a cloud ferry was calling in all the passangers for an amazing journey. The girl was amazed, since 2003, she hadn't seen a single cloud ferry, it was the time when she decided to one-plait her hair... She approaced and asked to the sloven looking cloud keeper "Where is this one going?" The man answered with a playful smile and a friendly mustache "No one knows little girl! It is the wind that decides our destiny! But why to lose time now? Our fate awaits.. hop in little girl, Hop in!" And she did since she was so far away from home and the wind seemed friendly. The passsangers consisted rawly of two fubsy gay englishmen with prominent facial hair, a lonely jew, three elves that read books at an outstanding pace, a sleeping black woman, seven promiscous fairies and the keeper's dog which was resting on the girls lap, too friendly to be ignored. Up they went, up they went with a trumpet like sound. The Flight was steady and the subjacent world seemed to be just a fairytale from the cloud sight. "Why would I ever go back there? I have everything I need here!" said the fubsy gentlemen no.1 kissing no.2 passionately with no regard of the fairy they were crushing with their out-of-the-norm body mass. Upon realization, the fairy screamed obscenities and landed in the dog's fur with an unfriendly gesture. "Shit shit" it said "Look at my wings. I had a date and and..."

It all seemed like a dream.. but the dog's fur and the cloud-seat was too tangible and material for this whole scenery to be a rebelious side-effect of the girl's imagination. Even the air contrived against reality and smelled of vainilla flowers, filling the lungs in and out. "This must be home" She thought. "It is" Said the dog, who read minds. An ability the girl acknowledged in animals in that precise moment. "This is your new home... But look! There is a gust of wind over there, outside the window... and it seems very hostile. You better get your earphones in, little girl, this doesn't seem too pretty". The girl did put on some Jarrett and the turbulence resembled falling down the stairs from a 7 story building. Everyone flied around the cloud which had just been deflated by the frowny wind. And soon everything spinned, spiraling down the earth. Soundless, since the girl saw everything with her cloud seatbelt an heard dimmly through a nigger flaming solo.

The cloud crashed and everyone died a horrible painful death except for the girl, who had landed unscathed on a gigantic feather some meters away. "Where could I be now?" She asked. There was only a sign that read "Reykjavik - 20 kilometres" and the girl...

[ÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖ]

Gosh!

thought, "Oh dear! Oh dear! What happened here? Did I really fly on a cloud? And we fell down? So where are the others then? I see no one not even the dog!.And where am I? On Iceland? I remember that I was in Germany and I visited Stockhausen. He asked me to go to England with a message to one Arnold Layne. Butt Stockhausen died 2007 and Layne didn't understand the message. He didn't know Stockhausen, butt strangely enough he had a lot of his music and he told me that he had thought about just him lately. Butt his boyfriend? No!
The message to him was that he should follow me to Finland where we could operate him and take away all his fat. Could we? Yes maybe! Butt what did I do on Iceland. And could I find another cloud and fly home"
She looked at the sky and yes there it was, a Finnair-cloud. She jumped on it and with the west-wind she was soon in Helsinki.
She went directly to her father and asked him," Who am I, father? Why can I go with the winds and why am I not happy. I feel different in many ways and I am not like other girls. I always fall in love with the wrong persons and wrong persons, butt other wrong persons, fall in love with me".
"Oh dear," said Öhubble, "that is your destiny since you are a fantasy in some meaning, just as I am, and we only live in a Finnish musicforum. Butt the advantage with that is that we can do what the fuck we want as long as that Jens allows us to go on".
"So Pekka is not for real either"?
"Just Pekka seems to be real, butt there are a whole gang that are not. The twins Bo and Ro,not real. Timo Tolkki 1,2,3 4,5, not real. And a bunch of A's, not real...
and so on the list is long"
"Butt butt, Oh dear, Oh dear! So what I say now is not for real? Vojne, vojne! Butt I want to be REAL. How about El Salvador? How is AGAG? Is he real or not?
He is most like a dream so ...

[AGAG]

it must be a robot. No no... A spambot set by jens to put random words in a particular order to give a false idea of reality... Yes! It all makes sense now. And Jens isn't a common minded man, no, he is clever! He sorted through and found the most random of third world countries to make this all look more real El Salvador... yes, it is all set up. How didn't I notice? Who would actually LIVE in such places?! Finally the truth is revealed.. butt what if everyone else is not real? Just me! Or what if I'm not the real one... Oh no, Help me vater! I've lost my wisdom and Jens is playing with my mind" She started to panic and wondered why anyone would do such a thing. Her father hugged her and said "Do not worry.. You are a normal girl, dear daughter. You just use that damn computer way too much. That is not real dear daughter. The trees, on the other hand.. those are real. Do not worry about your botfriends on forums, they will be fine without you. Come dear daughter! Let us visit the local park for the first time in seven years.. before you discovered those damn virtual friends.."

And to the park they went. Butt there...

[ÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖ]

was NO trees! It was not a park anymore. There was a tower with a high mast for data-traffic. "Oh Father", said the girl with great sorrow,"this is called progress and we are in it with body and soul. We can't fight it any longer. Soon there is no real life and we will sit in our rooms, with our computers, while life is going on somwhere else. I will NOT be a part of that. You are absolutely right. I have been devoured by this giant and I spend to much time on fiction-figures. Butt I will change that from now on. I am going back to my real life and my real friends, in the real world. No more neverending crazy stories about flying clouds and aliens. I think I am allergic to sushi...
And that was that. Believe it? Or is she stuck in the dreamworld, poor girl? The story is neverending so it goes on without her and...

[AGAG]

dreamworld was now a sad place. There were only tacit homeless men and racist high-class capitalists with no regard for them and a clear addiction to technology. It was as if the girl lifted up everything with the ding ding of her bike. Somewhere though, a young man had just woken up and he was clearly late again. A computer brushed his teeth and dressed him. He ate two vitamin pills and put on his backwards cap. He mounted a cloudbus and he went off the ground hastily. Everything seemed distant. The cloud driver had no mustache and he never talked, the girls on the back laughed at someone who had just comitted suicide and the other passangers were just silent. A rainbow highway led him to this robot city where there were no trees and everyone were behind computers and related just through facebook. A computer was awaiting him in one of the many office buildings and the silence on the streets was unbearable even for a happy optimistic man like him. The dogs were extinct on this town and next tuesday he had his big computer night... however, today he was sad and...

[Karlheinz Stockhausen]

I could puke all day over that stupid, stupid girl and the stupid, stupid poet...
:poke: :yuk: :puke: :puke: :puke: :puke:

[Frederic Chopin]

The girl has left and a new sad character just joined in. Are you deaf?

[AGAG]

This thread is lonely as a midnight town And there are no parties. It's like plugging a lamp at 4am to see where you left your socks yesterday because it is really cold in the room redardless of your bed sheets.. Where was this? I see. Sad he was

he decided to stay up a bit more, he was working on his big computer, not minding the weather outside, which was cold and rainy. He decided to take a break against the office rules which only permitted 2 bathroom breaks in the 9 hours shift, he had already taken the two of them and it was only 12:30. The little alarm went off as a warning but he didn't care. He wen't on and had a cigarrette on a balcony of the big big building. The robot Boss came along and started shouting formally

-Employee no. 4687 Your contract requires you to attend workstation 46b and remain there until your creative tasks end for the workday. You have used all your shit breaks and you aren't allowed to take cigar breaks until further notice, based on your past work performance which have not surpassed your contract expectations. If you think you have wrongly received this message or if you have been mistaken for someone else and you are not employee no. 4687, please use your bar tattoo to access your worker account and contact the server master. You have 2 minutes.

He didn't put attention at all and in precisely 2 minutes, he was called in by the human boss, which managed all the robots in the enterprise. He was a very intelligent man with a white beard and gray hair. He talked tiresomely and paused:

-Hello there!...

[ÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖ]

Oh I can't let you be so alone here in "our" thread, so I will go into this strange futurestory from 3014(?) and rummage about...



4687! How are you? I can understand that you don't like your existense here, so I have decided to move you back in time... well let us see...What do you think of 2011? Isn't that a nice year? From just now you will be a young, promising poet in, why not El Salvador, a South American country, where it rains a lot. What do yoy think?
"I don't know a rainbowshit about that country, so it will be exciting, like fucking dogs. Thank you Human-Boss, you are much nicer than Rob and Bob-Boss.
(Why did I talk like this, he thought...)

Next moment in El Salvador.
Bump. Bump. From the future came in a big futurecloud a young poet plumping down at the beach in Salvador. It rained and it rained, and on the wet sand, sat a freckled girl. Her hair was dripping and her plaits had come loose. She looked patheticly alone and forlorn.
"Vojne, vojne" she said to the poet,"What am I doing here? I just came from the future. And who are you?"
The poet smiled," Don't we know each other from some Forum ? You were together with an alien spy that was allergic to sushi, weren't you?"
"Jaja, I remember you now. You were married to an also alien, allergic to sushi, and had a lot of children that weren't yours. How are you now?"
The poet looked bewildered, "I don't really know butt butt...

[Hubble86]

So you are here again? Didn't we agree that you should stay out of this. Huh? I saw that you changed pass-word, butt I figured it out and now I am in your heels again. Hahaha! So I am taking over...


I like to shit a lot. On the walls, on the floor, on heaven and earth. I am always shitting," said the poet. "I can't talk about anything butt shit and I hope that you and I can talk shit. I am SO talented, butt sorry to say I spill my talent by my abnormal exitement and euphoria marked by mental hyperactivity and disorganization from my great interest in shit. I have written a poem we can sing now!"
And he started to sing.

Shit, shit, shit, lalalalala,
Shit, shit, shit,
We shit and we shit, lalala,
Everywhere and eweryday,
Shit, shit, shit, lala,
Oouoo, shit is so beautifuuulllll,
Shit is like goldenguuulllll,
Ohhh, shit, shit, shit,
There is rainbowshit,
Among some silvershit,
Christmasshit and my shimmering pearlshit,
Shit, shit, shit, lalala,
Sing with me, shit shit shit,
Lalalalalalalala.....

The girl was silent and looked very sad.
I don't know you, she said , and I must go now, I don't like to sing shitsongs and I am going home to my dear, dear father. He may have stolen my pass-word butt I love him very much and he loves me. We have to work on new-years-eve, so I will se him then. He will have "champis" with him and we will drink it in the supply-room. So Happy New Year to you young poet and good luck..."
There was a cloud to Helsinki and she jumped on it . On the beach stood the poet and he started to ...guess what...yes he...

[AGAG]

OH you're so uncalled for

..made a CLOUD of SHIT out of all the shit he had shitted on the beach while singing his shitsong and he was such a good shitter and his shit was of such a quality and of such a perfect composition that he actually arrived before the sad girl to helsinki. "Here I am again!" He screamed to the top of his lungs, descending heroically from his light brown shit cloud "Withstand my talent, snowy town, for I will bring you SHIT and it will end ALL your troubles!... BEHOLD!" And with a heroical gesture he put his pants down and he started shitting in a really violent manner in front of the shivering startled citizens. In no time (7 minutes), the town was covered in a gigantic shit-umbrella that sidetracked the snow and the cold, thus bringing a warm enviroment for the helsinkers at last. The townsmen were smart and thought of everything "what will we do about the smell?.. the smell, the smell" they wondered... but little did they know: the young shitpoet was pure and his shit was pure so all Helsinki smelled like goldenroses, goldenapples and rainbows, a lot better than the smell of snow and cold they had been drowned in for so long. When the habitants realized the smell of fresh apples, they smiled. The townsmen were so amazed by the abilities of the young shitter that they declared him president. All of this took place before the sad girl arrived with her white cloud. The people were having a party on the town's park, celebrating their new shitpresident, when her shy white cloud finally found the cloud stop beneath the gigantic shit construction. The people were playing goldenshit balalaikas with joy.

"What is this?" she asked, stepping outside of the cloud "Where's the snow and the cold I left behind? it is actually hot... like that beach I just left. And the smell of shit there, it is in the air here.. What is that gargantuous structure that hinders the sun's rays? Could it be shit?..." The young shitter who was now a local hero was on the side and heard the poor girl's inquiries and he said, running to meet the girl: "Have no fear, dear girl!.. I have brought joy and warmth into this small nordic town of yours and you should have no fear! Because shit is your friend and you shouldn't be afraid of something as beautiful as shit." He was a good man so after thinking for some time he made a decision. "I have something for you, dear friend!" he said, with a smile on his face. Then he started to shit with the most refined of techniques. After a couple of minutes of skillfull and delicate craftsmanship that resembled the old renaissance masters of sculpture, the gift was ready! A golden bicycle made of raw shit. A sturdy, shiny mountain bike with the most superior of hydraulic systems and golden colored manouvers. The tires were made of elastic, yet biodegradable materials that guaranteed that they would never have to be changed because they couldn't ever deflate.. all with baroque ornaments and flowers... A sportsmaschine built for the gods!. Of course, the girl was amazed. "Oh gosh. Oh gosh!" she said, mounting on the bike "I had never seen such a beautiful bicycle before... What is it that you eat dear young shitter? I want to know your secrets..." The young man was really silent regarding his shitting techniques and discipline but he decided to make an exception and said:...

[ÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖ]

I have no idea what I wrote here yesterday, butt it was something about that you had four stomachs. Haha, And that was why you shit so in the bombom much...Four cowstomachs that gave shit instead of milk.
What do you say if we leave the shitdepartment a while and talk about something else. Is there not something else? Are you sure? Butt, butt, a bike of shit? Do you really think that is possible, even in a neverending? From Salvador?

"I think I will stop the shitting now".said the POET "I use to weep a lot when someone calls me a shitpoet and I hope that you are not among those nasty people".
"Oh, no, I would NEVER say something like that, even if I don't like that you talk so much about your digestion. There are other things in the world you know. Gnatnats and mushrooms were funnier and even persons allergic to sushi kan be interesting. Have you any contact with your daughters, that are not yours and do you hear anything from Pekka Fucking? He has a very complicated personality and I wonder so if he is coming back to us. He has after all 64 children here, butt that seems not to concern him." "I didn't like him at all. He was a scoundrel and he wasn't nice to any of us, so let us forget him," said the poet and looked angry.
The girl put the shitbike in a stand and it started to dissolve like diarrhea. It streamed down the street in a shitflood and suddenly the whole town was melting and fading out. "Gosh, oh dear oh dear there goes the shit," said the shocked girl. "Vojne, vojne, what can we do? The shit fills the whole Baltic-sea on its way to...to Salvador. It is longing for home... Butt...

[AGAG]

it has now become a shitcluster since there is a fence, a big fence, that obstructs it's path. It is the baltic fence that is used to prevent mediterranean alligators from invading nordland, no one knows who built it. But the shit! oh gosh! It looks rabid and upset! I never thought shit could be this violent... gosh, hear those growls!" And the roars and the äÄä's were strong as the salvadoreanshit revolved fiercefully in front of the barrier. The shit broke the sea fence and rode triumphantly into the horizon, dimming the growls slowly as it faded away... "They grow so fast..." said the shitPOET with tears in his eyes. But there was no time to weep. The fence was there for a reason and the alligators entered quickly, like green bolts, with their thick wool coats to withstand the weather and with steel teeth to pierce the skin. The nords had no clue, "What the gosh is this?" said the vojne girl. The habitants were also shocked with their balalaikas on their hands as the coat alligators marched through helsinki's streets in perfect lines. "Who will fight them? Will we perish?" everyone thought. The kingalligator and his army took the central plaza and stood and talked: "Have no fear, finnish humans, it is not you who we seek, but we will not hesitate to eat your Mosin Nagants and Sakos if you dare to intrude.... Friends! This is a proud day in history! We have awaited for centuries, lying down in italian and greek ponds, with our head down and our teeth hidden... but today we take revenge! for all the shits and all the laughter... tonight we will crush them! Rejoice my thickskinned friends! And raise your paws with pride... tonight we will drink blood! Columbidae livia... Passeri Bombycillidae... Gavia Adamsii.. Grebes, Petrels, Storm-petrels! They think they are better because they have wings but we will render them humble with our teeth... They will ALL perish!" And they cheered joyfully as the king smiled. The people just watched in awe how mother nature took it's strange ways of evolution and improvement.

But the Columbii were absent. Strangely, the whole nordic avifauna had vanished that day and the reptilia looked hopelessly for them. Accumulating anger and threatening the towns people. "Where do you hide them!?" they said. It was not until dusk that an eagle was heard in the distance.. It approached carefully like a plane that overflew the minefield to gauge the enemy. Little did the bird know and in a moment, it was crushed mercilessly with the slings the alligators had. But from the horizon the night seemed to have forced it's way since the sky slowly became dark over the town's mountain. The birds were not dim-witted and they knew about the allis all along. They came in the millions. They would defend their territory with claws and beaks. The skies were glorious: they wore wood armors and their beaks were coated with finnish silver and gold. The first wave covered the skies and the light couldn't find it's path through the dense cloud of Gulls and sandpipers. The battle was about to begin and the townsmen ran for shelter. "Oh god!... what have I done?" said the shitPOET as he ran with the plait girl to a nearby ranch. He couldn't regret for long because the whiteshitbombs had been already dropped and the slingrocks were already flying violently through the air of helsinki, producing a hell like war noise ...

[ÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖ]

Gosh,gosh! So now we are in Birdland?? I don't know Columbidias or Nagants, butt they sound dangerous...


And warnoise it was. For there over the sea came a bombardsquad of GrusGrus-Cranes. Their long necks and legs made them horrifying and their trumpeting copulationscreams woke up the dead in all churchyards. Up they came from their graves and it was an army noone ever had seen.
The crocodilking Croco the first asked his prince Gorgonzolacroco the third (number two was home in Italy and he was also called Kupianenitaly96, because he talked too much).
Croko the third wrinkled the soft skin on his stomach and said," This is bad, father, very, very bad. I think they come for us and they have no mercy, no mercy, at all. I think we have to throw in our towels and run like hell."
And run they did. Butt their legs were to short and they had no condition at all, so the graveinhabitants, that had waited for this in hundreds of years, killed them with their bony skeletonshands.
The grusgrus laughed up there in the sky. They had never seen anything so funny.
In less than two hours all crocos were killed and the dead returned to their graves. Many had got new friends in the fight and they were happy to have saved their Fatherland from the nasty Crocoregiment.
And the Finns came out on the streets. The grusgrus was on their way to nest in the north, the snow had melted and it was at last spring after a long crocowinter.
The plaitgirl and the notshitpoet decided to write a big 18-minutespoem together and hand in hand they went to the rhymecottage and who knows what happened there. Poems? Jaja! Butt...

[AGAG]

Oh, the birds won? The poor crocos

they spent a night in the cottage that was strangely decorated since there was these goldenbeak bird statues and stuffed crocodiles with painful face expressions. The girl also wore crocodile clothes and had gulls as pets. After the night on the crococottage, there was this hand-written notebook ridded with poems of the most varied textures and free verses, some of them were even 26-minuteslong. And of course, they didn't have time to sleep at all so in the morning they had caffeinecoffee since they both needed to reset their sleeping schedules for the next week. Because of the caffeine excess, the occasionallynotsoshitPoet was having one of his ideas and said "Would you like to visit constantinople, my dear dear friend?... it is very pretty there. These all things that happen to us sound like the product of some neverending story or something of the sort... imagine: you visited africa, I have 5 children now, finnish goat keepers, you had short hair and I am now a baroqueshitter with tremendous skills... Oh dear! and I thought we could use a break to do something more, say, normal? Constantinople will get you a break from this crocodile wars" The curious freckle girl was curious. "Constantinople, yes. I have heard of it. Who are the ottomans anyway?" The OcasionshitPoet took her to a nearby bridge with the handwritten notebook. "Oh I will tell you! This constantinople used to be a kingdom of mine.. most people have these empires as calluses from hard work and dish washing. They start to wear off when they grow old and start working at a McDonalds for minimum wage. I got it from birth and it was my greatest pride. A sturdy 2 meters tall sandcastle I had built almost from scratch. But the ottomans you know... they are merciless and puerile, in 2 hours that I was gone they had already eaten up the main walls and my men couldn't withstand their slings and fire shit balls. I found my sandcastle swallowed and spatted by the fierce tide... But you know! I had never gave up and build a new one! They don't know where it is and I can show it to you. We need to trust ourselves. Follow me young plaited!" And splashsplash, the Ocasionpoet jumped into the fierce river embracing the notebook with all his strenght. Beyond lied constantinople, he said... A nearby Belgian laughed at the fun sight of a suicidalman. "Oh gosh, oh gosh!" said the girl, not laughing that much "I knew he shouldn't have had so much caffeine! But suicide? Oh gosh.." She decided from her heart to trust in the caffeine infested poet and jumped into the snowriver..

A few darkness passed inside the cold nord river, even though the spring was starting, and after some minutes of frostbites and perhaps Paradoxical undressing, everything was still. It was this new world and there a little oompa loompa voice welcomed them. "Hello wanderers! I am a post-hypothermia hallucination and I will guide you in your trip! Have these magic leaves and swim with me! swim swim!" the voice was thin and feminine, like a gayman... and then...

[ÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖ]

Jaja!

the girl said with a weak voice, "Vojne, vojne, wonder-poet, where are you taking me? It is so damn cold and I have to push away icebergs all the time. We are drowning soon and where is that Constantinople you are talking about. Is it your invention or what?" "Nono," said the expectant-poet, "I am sure it is here. Somewhere! I saw it in my dream!"
"PFFFF", The girl was irritated, "In your dream? Do you really mean, that we have jumped in this icewater, because you are chasing an utopian dream? Look to your left. This big shadow with all that teeth is a Baltic Iceshark and it is going to eat us if we don't make it to the shore. NOW! And, and, there are two more. Even bigger. Huh! The Baltic Iceshark is the northern Piranhas, they leave nothing behind..."
"Vojne, vojne," cried the scared-poet, "Butt, butt, I have cramp in my legs and I am sinking. Help heeellppp"
The girl grabbed the sinking-poet by his shortcut hair and dragged him to the shore.
There was a group of gaping Finns and a burly Kosken-man opened his mouth even more. "So you are winterswimmers?" he said with some scorn, "Didn't you know that here are hundreds of hungry sharks. Are you maybe out of your mind?"
"Oh dear, oh dear," said the plaitgirl, "No we didn't know that and it was an unpleasant surprise. Butt we are looking for Constantinople."
"HUUPFFFF Constantinople???? So you are lunatics after all? From some institution close by? Can we help you back there?"
"No, no, this freezing-poet is from Salvador and he is sure that Constantinople is down there in the water. He saw it in a dream...Jaja, it sounds crazy, I know, butt. Oh sorry! In my last post I wrote it was spring and rather warm, so I think we are going back there now. By, by Kosken-man!"
The girl took the cold-poet in his icehand and back they went to the earlier post. There the daffodils bloomed and the happy-poet smiled to the sun. "This is Constantinople", he said, "Thank you my dear plaitgirl! We found it at last!" The girl gave him a bewildered look," Butt, butt, we have ...

.

[AGAG]

to rest... this has been all wearisome, you know? jumping around posts, sandcastles, hypothermia from warm water... and now I've seen it and Constantinople has been destroyed! I may try to rebuild it later but now I am just so so tired... but look! Just in time, it's a dream cloud that is loading his passengers, Isn't it ironic? it has free coffee... And and! I found the book you told me some days ago, it was in a cosmic toilet with little cosmictoilet paper... although it has other diamond rings, it doesn't have the one you photocopied for me... but I will find it!... and and! look! the cloud is declouding... what do you say if we take a nap from it all?"... The cloud looked hasty but it held still as if it was waiting for someone, a train waiting for the exiled... But the girl was confused and plaited "But butt! I have a lot of work to do!" she said "I would love to take that green cloud of temporary oblivion and headache healer with you.. but math is really fun! and I am actually not sleepy at all! It is warm here finally and and... the coffee is from Russia? That's really bitter and sour and disgusting, like a glass full of sighs.. and and.. I will see you later young friend! you really need to sleep and keep being a shitpoet or a notsoshitpoet? haha! I don't know, that is up to you." And the young salvadorean ran and ran and hopped in the cloudy vehicle. Later the girl picked up a greenshit-stained napkin the poet had dropped on the floor in his hasty russian-coffee chase. She tried to decipher a message through all that greenshit. It said:

"Somewhere in the laughter
old moles open,
Beginnings of clear [shit stain] and resonances
Dimples without [shit stain]...
extinct objects
by the genesis of wrinkles.

The [S.S]
At the end of the mall
I threaten to stretch my wings
and to jump from the sixth floor.
A banana split at the border of nostalgia
observes me midst the yawn of an ice cream shop
Far away the silence quiets down facing others
like a spy-watch in the hands of a conspirator.
No, my love, I didn't chase the watch's cony;
I found it too familiar to chase.
Yes, they are still mine, the manners of a kitty
I lunch with sardines and vegetable oil,
and I clean my ears in the rooftops and..
...
[Big S.S]
...
and suddenly
a hoary,
a wrinkle,
a son that dies,
a [S.S] that dries
and maybe
at the end of the journey,
at the end of the vacuum,
at the end of this [S.S],
a hand waits for me
or the hand is us."

The girl then exclaimed...