Neverending Story [Game]

[Hubble86]

Hubble here!

I have also a verse in that song!


I am the great pillerblender,

That can make you all sorts of pill,

But if you need one to kill,

Someone who with anger you fill,

I think I must send you a bill...

[ÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖ]

"Me too", said the poet! "Me too...


I am the great poem-defender, oooo

I defend all the poems, but blue, oooo

But I don't have a clue,

In what colour to screw,

So to rainbows I am in big due...

[ÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖ]

"Ah. Me too said Moco and sang...


I am a great Antenner, oooo

For finding those videos around, oooo

I looked till I found,

Handsome Porra is my ground,

For searching this Stratoabound...



And when Adrian9 heard her, he also had his verse.


I am not a Hugodefender, oooo

And I'm not a socialist, oooo

It is metal more than Christ,

And I may be an anarchist,

But mostly a splendid guitarrist...

[AGAG]

Awesome

There was a swedish nobeler hidden behind a bush and he was taking notes. He approached Ö who was still of a pale green colour, like a lime, while she was directing the poem orchestra conformed by stillgreen man and moco, the grüne girl. Ö had a lot of experience managing choral orchestras, she had a twig and she used it as a baton. She almost danced on her podium and you could tell that every freckle was really commited with the musical phrases. They danced like an angry mob of ants over a piece of fruit, ejaculating passion everywhere.. The swedish almost fell sorry to interrupt "Ahem! This is... beautiful!" he said, with a mustasche and glasses. "I have been taking notes and you are truly amazing! Haha! I will nominate you to the nobel music prize and you will surely win. Such a beauty, such phrases, such melancholy, such joy... You truly have everything that Bernstein guy lacked." And she blushed in a green manner. "Haha! Well.. thank you!" She said "I just like to swing with the twigs once in a while. I'm truly honored. Butt... Do you think swedish society is ready to accept a green girl as a nobel winner? That would be a huge leap since that time when homosexuality reached 90% of their population. Progressive guys! Huh..." The swedish man laughed "Ha! Don't you worry at all. I think we are ready for you. The ceremony is in a couple of hours and you better get ready. Tell your friends to bring rainbows."

And they went to stockholm in a pack of pink bikes moco provided (German kvality) and Freckl wore an orange dress that made her greenliness really stand out in the huge crowd. The ceremony started and everyone cheered when announced her. They said in the radio that a finnish girl had finally won one million dollars for the composition "Choral Pekkas: Syntheses of green alien/men. (For one twig and hurtling crowd)". A ground-breaking achievement by the daughter of Hubble, the guitarra man who made pills. He joyfully cried in his seat, wearing a striped blue/red tie. She stepped in front of the audience and she pronounced her speech that we will remember for centuries. It contained the following words:

[ÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖ]

Thank you! Speak? Huh!

"Thank you prizecommittee! But I could never have achieved this honourable prize without my father and my best adventure-friend the Salvadorean poet, that today share this podium with me, since he has won the prize in litterature. Those two persons are the most outstanding inspirationsource anyone can wish for. Thank you and now I will sing my verses of the song...

I am not a great entertainer,
But I sing as good as I can,
My father I love and till that I'm a fan,
Of the poems from our Rainbowman,
That I never oh never will ban.

And today I'm a great comprehender,
Of the nature of this nobel prize,
So thanks for the big size,
Of the sum you so wize,
Gave me and the poet to slize...

The Swedes applauded the shy Finnish girl and Öhubble hugged the poet, that just got flowers from the Salvadorean ambassador.
"It is a great honour for El Salvador, that you got this prize", he said, "And I hope that you soon will come home and pay your taxes".
"But, but, I like it here under the cork-oak and the blondes, oh I mean the frondes of course. I will stay some more and try Öhubbles new "What-ever-you- want-pill".
Öhubble smiled,"Maybe that would be something for you mister Ambassador"?
"Jaja, in that case I would like to be a Finnish ware-wolf. Haha"!
"Wery nice choice", laughed Öhubble, "And as I am a thoughtreader, I have already put such a pill in your drink".
"Huh huh, it was more meant as a joke", said the now very hairy man and started to jump about. The nobelguests with the King and Queen stared at the strange apparition that tore his dress-coat in pieces and ran around were-wolf-voffing and showing his growing teeth to all that was interested. Suddenly he jumped out through a closed window and disappeared to Stockholm suburbs, where he later spread big horrors.
"He will soon be normal again, but without clothes", laughed Öhubble. "It was the smallest size of my were-wolf-pill. Haha"!
But boom-kaboom! WHAT happened now? The Swedish King and Queen tore their clothes from their royal bodies and so did many others. Something in the air? No, in the drinks! Öhubble had happened to drop his piller-jar in some ice-cistern.
"Gosh, gosh", said the poet, "This looks like a Were-wolf-convent. I think we have to run. And it was in the last minute for now...

[AGAG]

that the wolfambassador gave the poet a big bite in the butt. The poet managed to escape after an ouch "I knew he was a tiny bit gay. Pfft" Said the poet, who fondled his now bleeding butt. And this attitude was epidemic. Soon everyone who had drank the wolf-water was desperately trying to bite other people's butts. Even their own. So one would see comic scenes of werewolfs voffing while chasing their own tail, that seemed delicious like a candy. "Another one of your unconsidered side-effects thinlipped?" Asked moco, a bit scared because she wasn't a fan of butt-bites "Thank god I never drink water. No, only schwarzbier, ja." Then, a spectacle! A flock of swedish sheep was passing by. In hundreds. The wolfs started to howl in unison, maybe a major third apart, like hubble noted immediately. Then they rushed to their prays, ambushing, tackling and scratching. More importantly: Devouring their butts with no mercy. Some buttless lamb escaped and hid behind a big bush. There the poet rescued it and carried it on his back. "We have to flee!" He said to the freckle, somewhat agitated "Look what they did to this poor little lamb. They have no soul. I repeat: Swedish have no soul. Run!"

And they all ran towards finland. Where a cloud of wasps welcomed the newcomers with a hug. In fact it was a big 20mts wide cloud that hugged them. They breathed around 20 wasps each and then Hubble said "This must be hell. And looks who's there! Oh no. Who could THAT be? It seems a bit like...

[ÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖ]

Mörkö on the tabloid "Ilta Sanomat". Not a word. The only thing we will say is NO COMMENT!

I will give you his article later. The fish are screaming: "We will, we will rock you, we will, we will be catched, be catched and eaten by youuuu...

[ÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖ]

I have never catched so many fish before. It must be a fishyear..
But here is Mörkös article.


There is something Rotten in Sweden!

by TinTin Mörkö.


From the most well-informed source, we can report, that something very, very strange is happening in our neighbour-country Sweden. When our own music-award-winner Freckle Öhubble was in Stockholm, to collect her prize, she was attacked by the Swedish King, that tried to bite her butt. He was namely transformed, TO A WEREWOLF, and so was his wife the Queen.

Freckle has no comment, but her friend the Salvadorian prizewinner, Agar Agnar, had to visit the hospital for injuries in the rumparea. That is also said, that it was his own ambassador, Carlos Domentinus, that tasted the young poets ass. There is even talk about vaccine, against rabies and tetanus, since the ambassador was rather savagely brutal. But neither Agar Agnar has a comment.

Sanomat can however tell you, that there was a great turbulence, at the royal castle where the King and Queen had an afterparty. But what really happened is a bit unclear. Some say that it was something in the air, others even claim that our prof. Öhubble had put some pills in the water, that made werewolves of those who had ice in their drinks.

It seems to have been a temporary effect, since the King already next day vehemently denied, that he had bitten anyone.
Sanomat can however unveil, that all hospitals in Stockholm are overfull of patients with buttdamages and that some even must take away broken teeth, that got stuck in their behinds. The chemiprizewinner mrs Stockton from US accuses the Swedish King and demands one million dollar in compensation for her tattered arse.
It is a big scandal and the healthminister is furious. He has ordered a big investigation of all watersupplies, since a rumour says that the whole population is at risk to be werewolves.

There is something rotten in the Swedish water and Sanomat will keep you informed, but my advice is to stay away till this has been systematicly examined.

"What a shit", said Öhubble, "We must hope that they never get to know how Finland contributed to the Swedish werewolfdilemma".
But...

[mocobhc]

your rhyming skills are truly amazing!

… first he took care of the wasps still surrounding them. He made out the cute buttless little lamb shivering on the poet’s back to be the one attracting the wasps, so he pulverized a butt-growing-pill between some lush bunches of grass. The lamb bleated delightedly when it felt his butt growing again, struggled happily and accidentally kicked the poet’s butt, which was still a bit sensitive because of the treatment the Salvadorean ambassador-werewolf had given him before. The poet released the lamb in pain, and the little lamb happily leaped away before one of the others could pet or even catch it again.

“Oh I’m feeling so lonely now”, said the poet rather sadly, “I already started to become accustomed to carry something woolly and warm on my back!” He glanced around in hope of a proper substitution or another lamb stepping by accidentally, but not even a puppy came around. Instead, the wasp cloud which had been quite startled about the re-growing lambbutt turned around.

“Huh they are coming back towards you”, said Freckle, “it seems like the lambbutt hasn’t been the one attracting the wasps, it must be your own Salvadorean butt! We should get rid of them somehow. Any ideas?”

Moco, who still had a quite romantic view of Finland despite their recent adventures, suggested “Why don’t we hurry to the next lake and jump in there? The wasps won’t follow into water, will they? And I’d love to finally visit some of the famous Finnish lakes!” “Why not”, said Freckle, “I could teach you all how to fish and have a nice time!” So they…

[AGAG]

Sorry, that was a big wave!

Hopped into a finnish Dinghy and the Dingy hopped inside a lake who had hopped inside Finland several hundreds of years ago. The Ding was really unstable and floated around like a waterbottle with a little message inside. A message that consisted of a Finno-Russo-freckllanguage poem, a long messy salvadorean shitpoem and a german Hoch-poem, with salt, and a Sciento-pill Hubble treatise. Adrian, of course, wasn't inside the dinghy but he was rather swimming nearby looking for blonde sirens at bay, the ones that plague finland on wasp summer days. He swam and swam singing songs about Chavism and Bolivar. "Patria grande!" he screamed, happier than a bird, as a south american mating call.

The boat-bottle spinned so much on the lake's surface, its contents started to combine and they arbitrarily stopped differentiations between each other's atoms. They became an atom soup inside an oscillating blender. A poetic soup that was now contained inside this little bottle. And who would find it? "It is a shy protruding costume that of releasing a message inside a plastic bottle into the enormous lake we are" said one of the poems "Completely worthless!" said the other, clearly pessimistic "Who do you think it was? Who is responsible for this salad? Ach... What if they never find us! Will we sink?" "I don't think so, we will find land and and... a wide wingspanned bird will pick us up. It will show us the sun. It will uncork us over the ice mountains and it will pour our contents all over the mountaintops. We will be frozen to become ice-poems! Like the topping of a big ice cream... You just watch.. You just fucking watch!!" "Haha! Look at this.. your electrons are filled with positiv charge. This is amazing. I wish I had hands so I could take notes." " I! Me me! I will do it! I can. I have camera-memory. Remember? Just dictate and my mind will make a hard stone copy of everything you say. Begin!" "Qwatsch! Let's talk about beer. And whose was that fucking neutrino? Let's try and have decency. We are here for a long time. Those sort of principles apply in the atom-level too. Just so you know. I'm referring to the pill-aggregates. Just so you know...!!! Hüh!!..." "Oh no, no no no.. it wasn't me. Haha! I refuse to look for atom-butts in a bottle. I would need a MICROscope for those purposes. haha! not really on my interest-span. Although I will grant that yours is a TINY bit fantastic.. haha. You know I'm just kidding. Look out for the positiv-electrons though. They are also hunting" "Bla bla bla. No time to hunt. Look! Our bird is here. That was fast! hahaha! I told you.."

Something picked the bottle and opened it. To... drink it? Yes!... Who was this man? It seemed to resemble...

[mocobhc]

Dude you totally made me want to re-read Douglas Adams again


… the picture of Petrus one would draw in their imagination: Long white beard, wintery and wise facial features, calm gesture…

The atomic friends soup shouted and screamed their lungs out, and just in time they catched the guy’s attention. He looked quite startled about what was awaiting him in the bottle.

“WHOA, HAVEN’T HAD SUCH A SURPRISE IN AEONS! HEY, BIG J, LOOK WHAT I FOUND IN THAT BOOTLE!” He handed the bottle over to another long-bearded guy to his right.
“INTERESTING! THEY SEEM TO WANT TO GET OUT OF THERE, DON’T YOU THINK?” The second guy put the bottle on the snow-white ground and opened it. The atom-soup poured out of the bottle, and the friends grew to their usual figures. But oh dear, what had happened?! During the shaking something had gone seriously wrong…

At first Freckle didn’t notice anything because she was in fear of having lost her freckles. “Are they still there as they should, tell me! Am I still freckled?!” she asked quite nervously. The others calmed her down, and so she was able to concentrate on the look of all the others.

Her jaw dropped.

“Ummm, my dear poet… I never realised before that you have… that you are… why didn’t I realise all the time that you have…” She couldn’t manage to finish her sentence. The poet raised his eyebrow and looked down at himself. So did the others.

After a minute or two, Adrian9 broke the silence and simply said “Nice tits.”
The following minutes went by with Adrian9 trying to save himself from the furious poet who seriously tried to bash Adrian9 into pieces. Everyone checked now what body parts had taken a wrong way, and it turned out that everyone missed a part of his or her own body and found it to be a part of one of the friends instead.

“THAT’S A SERIOUS ISSUE,” stated the second long-bearded guy who had watched the scenery for quite some time interestedly, and caught the friends’ attention. “GUESS THIS TAKES MORE THAN JUST MY USUAL WINE-WATER-SKILLS. CALM DOWN, LITTLE ONES, EVERYTHING WILL BE FINE IN SOME MINUTES. I’LL BE BACK” he said and disappeared without a noise or further warning…

[JensJohansson]

... and then after having way too many midsummer drinks, stroked his long white beard and then shaved it, and participated in the thread, thus making it somewhat tangentially belonging in the "Stratovarius and related bands" forum subsection... and then while sipping yet another drink moved the topic to that section of the forum, in the hope of drawing more attention to this strange endeavour.

Right after that he vomited into his beard, making it....

[mocobhc]

:O but you shaved it! How could you vo- oh wait, nevermind


… making it totally unuseable for anything requiring some intact DNA. Too bad for Öhubble who had already worked out all the 1.483 ingredients for creating his masterpiece marvellous monstruous megalomaniac mill. Pill! Sorry, sorry, sorry.

“So, what are you waiting for? I want my own butt back, and I want it now!”, Öhubble moaned at the now unbearded longhaired BIG J, still pissed about the contamination of the remainings of the shaved beard which would have played the main role in his now never-to-be-finished pill.

“Hushhush”, Freckle quickly whispered to her father, and turning around to their saviour she said “Excuse his manners, please! His lab has been eaten by some aliendogs just a few posts ago, and he’s still not over it yet. But he’s right, I also want my – well you know, but I want them back, please…”

“NO PROBLEM, I'LL JUST –“

“STOP!!!” Everyone turned around to Moco who had been the shouter. She blushed a little bit, but then she said:

“Just wait a minute before you continue, please. I – I have to do something, and I won’t ever get another chance to do it THIS way…” and she hurried to a corner.

“Thank you for waiting,” she smiled when she returned a minute later. “It’s not as comfortable as I expected it to be, nevermind.” The others seemed quite embarrassed, but what was to expect from a German anyway…! They all turned around to…

[AGAG]

The poet, who had blushed aswell, also screamed "Stop stop! Nobody moves until I solve another mystery" And he didn't even bother to go towards the safety of a corner. In front of everyone, he rummaged with his open palms through his now expanded shirt, as if looking for a very important presentation card he had lost on a non-existent chest pocket. The people wondered: Why is a card important? didn't everyone knew him already? Was he mad?... But that's what one could expect from a salvadorean, let alone a south-american. The poet, he giggled and giggled. "Interesting!" he said, smiling "This IS as good as I expected it to be, I'm afraid to say. I have reached a conclusion. Ha! There is no need for pills dear hubble, I will remain in this beautiful state from now on."

But freckle was quick to obstruct the poet's dreams like grease that clogs an arthery "BUTT! but..." she screamed from the corner, clearly blushed and clearly upset "Are you a thief? An insane thief? Those aren't rightfully yours. You kind of need to earn those sort of things and... it is clear that you haven't paid for the total totality-price of the products you have been wrongfully handed. Those are clearly mine and mine shall they remain. They, however, look sort of good on you and ONLY because of this!... I'm willing to negotiate. We can reach some sort of agreement in which you will be granted to keep ONE and only ONE. And it has to be a hell of an agreement if I'm allowed to put it this way." And indeed it was sort of unfair, she had kept her beautiful freckles but now they were under a thick beard that was formerly yielded by Hubble. The mixture was rather beautiful and everyone in the room were leering at her face abundantly and unrepressedly, like unhugged dogs.

Hubble blushed in the same instant and he took a defying stance over his pair of legs that seemed to be a lot emptier than before. "What is this non-sense?" He screamed "An agreement! What a preposterous thing.... Disgusting. Anti-natural. Amoral. Deceptive. Disturbing. Subcultural. Unquieting. Generally opposed to common good!!... No, this cannot be. I will make pills and EVERYONE will swallow. They will be ready in one hour and no one will leave the room to make those experiments of yours in corners"

His croaky voice was something to be afraid of but there was a rebel in the room and a rebel cannot miss this kind of chances. It was...

[ÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖ]

Moco!
She liked to do what she did in the corner (Huu! That corner is no longer in use!) and she wouldn't give up what she saw as a victory. She had since childhood been a bit jealous of some maleattributes. But Öhubble was stern. He forced a pill in her protesting mouth and she is a timid girl so the only thing she said was "Shit, shit, shit". But, but, she never swallowed the pill. And whom among the guys it affected isn't known!

Freckle was happy. Her freckles were back and the beard was gone. She was surfing the net when she suddenly screamed,"Oh father, that Mörkö is after you again. I'm sure he knows the truth but he likes to suck the bonbon to sell more papers. Look, look what he writes in Sanomat today".


Breaking News! Breaking news!

Sweden in deep quarantine.

by TinTin Mörkö.

It is Midsummer even in Sweden, with strawberries and aquavitae in a vicious combination, but it is not as it used to be in our dear neighbourcountry. Sweden is closed. No connection what so ever with the rest of the world, since the were-wolf-virus are fast-spreading.
The healthdepartment is in highest alert to get some cure or vaccine. County-alarm is blown and no-one can leave or visit Sweden today. The borders are closed by heavy-armed soldiers, that have order to shoot to kill.
The virus is said to be extremely contagious and noone is safe. We have talked to prof. Öhubble that was in Sweden at the first outbreak, but he has nothing to say and one can't help but wonder what he really knows and hides. Is there some truth in the rumour about were-wolf-pills and has some Öhubble-joke went wrong.

One person has contacted us. He is a goatfarmer from the Russian border and he is sure that Öhubble is behind the catastrophe. "That calculatorscoundrel is really capable of poisoning the whole world," said the farmer, Pikka Kurmi. "I happen to know him. He has done the most appalling experiments on his own daughter and a Salvadorian skunk. They have been made invisible, neutronic, armadillos and leopards, among other scary things and why not were-wolfs. He was at the place and I am sure he is behind all this", said farmer Pokka Hurmi.
Sanomat has tried to get Öhubble's answer to those harch accusations but he claims stubbornly, that he doesn't know any Pakka Furmi.

We can't come further in this investigation, but untill our ferries will sail again to Sweden, we can only pray that our neighbours soon will be were-wolf-virus-free again.

Swedens cause is ours!

[AAAAAAAAAA]

...and they lived happily ever after.
THE END.

[BBBBBBBBB]

...THEN THE STORY REALLY ENDED THIS TIME Which MEANS NO MORE POSTING BELOW THIS LINE!!!!!!!!!!!!!

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[ÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖ]

PFFFFF to both of you. Pffff...PFFFF



Quote Tin Tin Mörkö, Sanomat...


IS FINLAND INFECTED?

A German businessman, Gunter Beck, tells us that he is sure the were-wolfes are here to stay, not only for a day. He is visiting friends in the north-north of Finland, almost on the border to Russia, and yesterday he heard, not wolves, no no, he assures us they were were-wolves. Big ones! Pest knows no borders and we fear the worst. Finland IS infected...


Edit.

"Look, look" ,said Freckle, "I am flooding the whole Stratosight. I wonder what will happen now father. Will the police come and arrest you. And me for overloading Strato? Huhhuh we must...

[AGAG]

Run! but where to? stratoforum is so small and they will find me as soon as they step inside. Besides, I'm a celebrity now. I am the first finnish to win such a swedish prize and they are mad at me. Micaelaandreika prigozhin from Russia was about to win the music prize and now she is mad. She has made cyrillic bombs and she threatens to launch them against our alphabet anytime now. Linneamaja Ågren-hansson was also very close and her music was beautiful, she must have worked really hard and her crushing violent anger is a bit understandable. She now wants to expand homo-gas all over helsinki. Ha! I wouldn't be surprised if they attack helsinki... Sanomatt is about to write a 7 page long article about my life and my relation to that butt-biting disease. Everyone will now know me on stratoforum, against their will. I'll have photographers following me like bees around a honey nest. Oh. I must stop this... This prize is so unpractical... I will burn sanomaaat!! Again, this is the only viable solution. Who is going to help me??" The poet jumped like a spring over the weary months of june. "ME me! I have kerosene" He said, happier than never before. And they ran to the printing facilities that were on northern russia.

It was dawn and it felt so good.
It was dawn and the prints were due.
Transexual poets ride against the wind.
Bearded freckles rise over the finns.

Raw or well done?
Raw or well done?
All the wasps now sing this song.

It is a choir of frogs
It is a choir of frogs
And they resound on the coffee mugs.

But Hubble was really worried. Who knew what sort of dangers russia could hide, especially for someone with such a beautiful beard like her daughter's. But they left without leaving a note, like they usually do. And now they were on the forest, with nothing but 13 gallons of kerosene and matches on their backs. They got lost in no time and they had no maps. She kept warm thanks to her lustrous facial hair. The poet, on the other hand, was shaven and he was shivering. "I think I'm going to die" he said, gasping for breath " I had never been below 18 celsius and according to the newspapers, it was going to be 16.2 today! All my nerves will freeze. Oh, I will write my testament on this snowball. Please freckl! Send this snowball home. Please. Home." But there was someone watching them as they spoke. It was something hidden behind the bushes. It was something russian.

Yes! It was the russian girl and she had a copious variety of russian mushroom-vodka from Vladivostok on her hands. Vodkavostok. "Hello again!" She said, while waving and smiling "I returned home and now I returned here again, with my friends from stratoforum. And I thought you might like this, it is the strongest vodka that exists. 102.1% alcohol. A present! Try it now and you will remain warm for centuries. Quick, before your eyebrows fall off" And the poet grabbed the bottle and drank and drank and then...

[ÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖ]

Isn't it strange to write here on the "first! page? Huh!

"Now I am that skunk, Fucking calls me. A poet drunk as a skunk. Again! Now I can only make poems that sunk. Clunk, clunk"!
"You stink from that stronk skunkdrink", said Freckle, "Try to keep your eyebrows unfrozen in some other way, or you will flunk like an overfull plunktrunk. And look, there is our fishingplace. I knew we were on the right way. Here you can be warm in our sauna. That must be almost as home for you. Humid and +100C degree and increasing. But here we are safe. I don't believe, that Gunter was right. It was ordinary wolves we heard".
"Do you think that the injection, I got for the ambassadors bite, against rabies also protect me for were-wolfvirus"?
"Hope so, but, but,BUTT, what has happened to your nails?? They are more like claws! And, and your teeth? Your hair? What, what?
Huh, huh.I have to leave you here in the sauna and lock the door. From the outside! Sorry Poet. You are infected, and I must talk with my father when he comes".
The Poet wept! And so did Freckle...

She could hear the helicopter and when it landed she was still weeping. She understood that her father was working on an anti-were-wolf-drug.
"We have to stay here for a while", said Öhubble. Sweden and Finland are in quaratine and we are in a hurry".
"Sorry, father, but we have the problem in our own sauna. The Poet is infected and you can hear how he rummages about in there".
"Oh dear, oh dear, just what I suspected. I have an idea and I will test it on him, but I have to wait till he calms down. Is the lock safe"?

They could hear how the Poet howled.
"Houwleuuuu, Freckllleeey, let me out! I promise not to bite you. I am not in that stage now. I promiseyuyulhoul"!
"No,no, he can't be trusted", said Öhubble.
"But, but, I am so sorry for him. Couldn't we just for a while"?
"No,no, If he doesn't bite you, for old times sake, he will surely bite me, and I haven't time to be a were-wolf just now. So he stays! Look what Sanomat writes today"!


Were-wolfs here to stay!

By Tin Tin Mörkö Were-wolf.

Ja,ja, here we go! Yours truly have become a were-wolf and it is not at all unpleasant. I am the same as I always have been, but I am also a new one! It is no problem, as long as the moon is dark and I am rather curious over what will happen when it is full. Will I eat people or can it be enough with a big raw steak? I will continue to inform you since it soon will be an experience we all share. Howlyyy...

"Gosh! We seem to be the only ones that still are human", said Freckle.

But, BUT, Boomkaboom. What was it coming from the wood????...The sound was horrifying...

[Nurmi]

[ÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖ]

You can't laugh so loud here on the "first page" Nurmi, Nurmi.

[AGAG]

It was a man vomiting. He strangely had no hair everywhere. He looked way too familiar and a bit human. He looked like pekka! And he was. He was an alien so there wasn't any way whatsoever he could get infected with earthly mundane diseases. He was vomiting because he had had a very bumpy trip from excessa. "Huh! I thought you had eaten sushi again" Said freckle "What on EARTH are you doing here? We are on an emergency. People are becoming wolves and they are biting each other's butts with no mercy. We need to run. Me and my dear father are the survivors" Pekka smirked and vomited a bit more "Blah!" He screamed "Believe it or not, I'm here to help. This whole disease thing is not very positive when it comes to world domination. I need people to rule, not wolves, those have always smelly mouths because of poor dental hygiene. Don't they know fangbrushes? Unbelievable." Pekka seemed not like a scoundrel anymore. At least temporarily!

The three survivors ran and ran towards a house in the woods. It was pekka's and he told them they could live there and they would be safe from the wolves. Nothing to be afraid of. The three lived happy in the little home, away from everything and playing three-way chess every once in a while. The wolves seemed to have forgotten their existance. They all were already established in little groups all over the cities and towns. The poet was the leader of his pack and he bit everyone who disagreed with him on the butt. Everything seemed happy and everything pointed towards a hasty pill-resolution with whihc everything would be happier. Butt! One day, when Hubble was working on fancy medicaments, pekka had a hormone regression and his scoundrel gland woke up. He tied up hubble to a pole after hitting him with a steel chair from behind. Freckle was next. Or so pekka thought.

This chair will leave a lump
But it will only be for the bump
I do not intend anything else by this
but to express my love for thee.

But a big bug Hyl was heard in the distance. It came closer at an absurd speed and then someone scratched the door fiercely, almost tearing down the house. It was a pack of wolves and a salvadorean was the leader. "Leeave her" He howled, and...

[ÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖ]

Will you kill us?

Pekka seemed to wake up from a bad dream.
"Vojne, vojne, what have I done", He looked at Öhubble that hang from the pole like a rag-doll. He was bleeding from some of the blows and he was unconscious.
The rescuer was of course the Poet and he was furious.
"You will never be human", he hissed at Pekka,"How could you do that to an old jazzman"?
Pekka had no answer but he tried, and vojneded again" Maybe it is the were-wolf-virus, that has that effect on aliens".
"Bullshit", said the poet, "You are a big bullshit all of you".
The poet lifted Öhubble from the pole and he was light as a feather. Should he survive?

Freckle lay on the floor. She had got some hard blows from Pekkas fists and was barely conscious. But she smiled shyly, when she saw the poet.
"You, you came at last. Sorry I locked you in, in our sauna but we thought we could save you. Father had an idea and when Pekka heard about that he kidnapped us and now he will kill us".
"Never,never, said the poet. "The virus has subsided and the world is coming back to normal. Hear what Sanomat writes today..."

Are we saved?

by Tin Tin Mörkö.

Sanomat has got very positive reports from Sweden and north-Finland. The were-wolfs are human again and the symptoms have declined. Noone has been ass-bitten in the last two days and it seems to have been som sort of wolf-flu. The surgeons have worked double shifts with the mending of bitten butts and if nothing more happens, it will soon be back to normal. I have not been bitten and I have neither harmed anyone, so I had probably a were-wolf-flu-light. But, but,the big test will come with next full-moon...

Freckle didn't hear what the poet read for her. She was unconscious and had very low blood-pressure and pulse. When the poet lifted her he discovered a deep injury in the back of her head and on the floor was a frightening big pool of blood.
"No", he said, "No,no...

[mocobhc]

Now, that’s a whole lot of violence in the last posts, drama! Let’s hope everything will turn out well!


“…no, this is NOT going to be the end!That’s not right! I can’t imagine this story without you - I would do anything if it keeps you alive!”

But what was he to do? They were in the middle of nowhere, no ambulance in reach of the next 100 miles, and Öhubble still weak and not even able to sit or speak! The poet started to get on his feet and search for the first-aid-box, when he suddenly felt Pekka touching his shoulder from behind…

The poet freaked out. He totally lost control of himself, and developing unforeseen strength, he dashed Pekka against the table, choked him with his right and reached out for the last family size package of frozen Sushi in the fridge with his left, meaning to stuff Pekka’s mouth once and for all!

In the very last second before the first piece of Sushi was about to fulfil its fate, he saw from the corner of his eye a little pill insinde of Pekka’s hand. He hesitated for a minute; then he carefully let Pekka catch some breath again.
“Listen carefully now,” he said quietly, “don’t even dare to fool me, or you will regret it! Speak, what kind of pill do you have there? And once more, don’t dare fooling me, there’s plenty of Sushi left!”

Pekka was still catching some breath. His eyes were full of hate against the poet, when he started talking.
“It’s a kiss-of-life-pill. It’s unique, the one and only Öhubble has ever made, and he made it for his daughter already a few years ago. It was the first thing I nailed down when I came here for the first time, just in case I’d ever be in need of it. Don’t YOU dare threatening me again, or I’ll crunch it into powder before you could take another breath! It’s the only pill able to save her life, so act wisely and stop your childish attempts to erase me from this world, or YOU are the one to regret for the rest of his life!”
He paused, then added "Anything? You'd do anything? Do you promise?"

The stared at each other for some seconds. Stalemate. The only chance for the poet to save Freckle’s life was to beg Pekka to give her the pill, but it was Pekka, and even worse, considering his last actions he was even more imponderable at the moment as usual! How could he…

[AGAG]

possibly save her? He was naive so he let pekka go. The poet wasn't a normal human yet and he had a sort of wolf-mentality still with him. He should have killed him in the same spot... "Now that you're free" He said, with rage in his eyes "Give me that pill. Don't play scoundrel tricks. It's her life!" And pekka smiled scornfully. "There is no use." He said "You have let me free and now it's my choice. She is quite a thing! Your weak spot, the caries in your fangs, your Achilles in your left toes. If she goes you will no longer be a threat. I will be free from salvadorean shit... So..." And at this point, his hand started to tighten. Before the wolfpoet could run and bite pekka fiercely, the pill became dust midst pekka's fingers. And the dust descended towards the ground slowly like careless leaves that fall in spring. The pillspecks didn't know their worth and they spiraled down as if they were any other sort of dust! The poet had the sudden need of chewing pekka until he became a pool of dirt and blood but he was not home. Of pekka he only heard a high-pitched laughter getting lost in the distance. And! what to do now? He was alone and everyone on the house was unconscious.

He held freckle in his arms and heard a tiny voice. It was coming from her but her lips weren't moving at all. Now she was still and pale as a log covered in snow. But the voice sounded upset and urgent. "LET ME OUT" it said, gasping. And then the poet finally catched a sight. It was a little blue light coming out of her headwound and it was becoming a little sphere that made the whole room blue and blindingly shiny. "What on earth are you??" Asked the scared poet when the entity was finally floating freely in the room. "Bah! Finally free..." It said in a weird voice "It was cozy in there but I can finally roam free and feel the wind. Ah! Where are my manners. Hello! I am a inner-interior perpetual cell-keeper; in your retarded language, I would be called a 'soul' but I'm not that lame haha! Believe it or not, everyone has its own perpetual cell-keeper. We are like rainbows. We have our own colors in the most beautiful combinations. You can see I am quite rare. I am pure blue! I belong in your most exquisite medieval cathedrals, on the sky that crowns your earthly christ. Haha! But enough about me. I will be leaving soon. Around the dawn. When she stops breathing... We can have a nice match of chess while we wait for her death. Funny.. Through all this centuries.. I've never played chess with a salvadorean!"

The poet was not going to let that happen and he tried to make the blue keeper stay "Say! Isn't there anyway we can prevent you from leaving her cute little head? I can give you cookies or anything you like. She is my friend and it would pain me to see her die from this absurd incident. Can we reach an agreement? You said it was cozy.." But the entity was stubborn and still bluer than a salvadorean dawn "Hahaha. I would love cookies yes, but there is not much I can do about your friend. Her time is due and so am I. I will leave and inhabit the head of a quadruped perhaps. A beautiful ocelot! How does that sound? Beautiful I know hahaha" The poet decided to try extreme measures. He grabbed the closest empty gherkins jar and he sneaked behind the glowing entity... swoosh and swoosh! he trapped the little blue guy in the first swing. Now the jar looked like a lamp. Then the poet...

[ÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖ]

So it is my turn to suffer now? My soul, my soul, my fucking soul, why have you abandon me?

started to pray like he hadn't done, since he was a little altarboy, before he started the dograping and Central-America-smoking. He said that he didn't believe in anything, but this was an extreme situation, so it couldn't harm anyone if he prayed a little.
"Please, please let her live. I will be kind and never fuck so many dogs. I can even stop smoking for a while, even if I am a centraler. I will miss her damn plaits and fucking freckles so much, so please"...

" I am a seeker, an immortal soul,
Made visible as an incarnat being,
Labouring for higher consciousness,
I cultivate the garden of experience,
And reap the harvest of wisdom.
Understanding acquired here,
Will spirit me higher realms,
I will search for love and perfection.

The blue soul protested- don't confuse her with Grumpy, that escaped with Unruly, since they got their baby AGÖG.
"No, no", the blue, No Name, said," Let me out from this cucumbersmelling jar. Vojne, vojne! The lifesaver was touched by your prayer, so I advice you to call an ambulance-helicopter from Murmansk. They will save both the girl and her jazzfather."
"Are you sure? Will you go back to her, if I open the jar"?
"Ja,ja, she and you are a bit special. She has saved you before and now it is your turn. Normally I would never have gone back".

Half an hour later the Murmansk-helicopter fetched the two Öhubbles and a babuschka-doctor in the Russian hospital took care of them.
The poet thanked whoever that lifesaver was. God? No, but who?
After three hours the babuschkadoctor told him that both her patients would survive."We were close to lose the girl", she said. "But she really wanted to live and till that some other force helped her."
The poet left the hospital, but he had no money and he couldn't talk Russian, so he was rather lost. "What can I do here", he thought, when he saw a person he knew. "Moco? Is that really you. Here? What...

[HinatAArcticA]

Guys, is supposed to be a short story that everybody can jump to straight ahead without reading anything

(Continuing...)
A nuke went off destroying everything till this point.

[AGAG]

Don´t even try to shit on the garden. That´s wrong. So wrong...

The was russian-made and it was aiming to the United States. Millions died but Russia was intact. Moco and the poet heard a big poof in the distance. "Sorry!" Said Moco "I was eating some german Bread and they were a bit spicy" The poet was glad to see her on such a lost land "Haha" laughed the poet "That is not a problem. What on earth are you doing here? In this lost port? Are you by any chance one of those photographers that work so dearly on Sanomat (Whatever that could be)? What are you covering this time?" "Well!" Said moco, like talking about something that is meant to be kept as a secret "People are not supposed to know about this but I will tell you anyway. You heard that poof before? That was a nuclear bomb. It has completely obliterated the United States and part of south america. Do not worry though! El Salvador is fine. They wouldn`t waste a nuke in there. This is the catch: In exactly 8 minutes from now, a huge 30 meters high tsunami will strike this frozen bay. I want to be here and document it as the beginning of a new communist era, as a natural poem that rebels against capitalism... A branch on the universal tree that declares independence... Then I will read Douglas Adams."

The poet started to worry. What about the diseased Hubbles? They were still dangerously asleep and the tsunami will probably drown them both because they wouldn`t be able to move at all. "There is still time" said the poet "I will gladly join you in the inauguration of this era you speak of but I have to save some friends. Again! Bah I wish I was still a wolf so I could run faster.. " One could hear the waves crushing against each other in the distance. The poet started to run against the wind and hunting high an low. He got to the hospital where a tall handsome doctor told him in sign language that they were not there. The poet started to pray again.

"Lord Jesus Christ.
I oblige thee to save my poor little trees.
My little freckle friend and the hubble tent.
I will no longer fuck under pine trees.
I will only fuck inside cathedrals.
This will be until my soul (Which is probably dirtgreen)
Decides to wander lost without any lust."

The poet was kneeling and he was in a religious trance. But who was there behind the poet? IT glowed blue and had formal plaits. It said all of a sudden:...

[AAAAAAAAAA]

...that I condemn thee to a lifetime in the pit of Nurmi's bowels!! As he placed his glowing hand on our hero's shoulder, he found himself magically transported into a dark, moist, stinking intestinal tract.

"Let me out of here!" cried the poet. And he pounded Nurmi's insides helplessly. When all of a sudden, a big log of poo came gushing through the passage, and...