Neverending Story [Game]

[ÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖ]

sing with his Salvadortenor and all the others fell in, there among the white cliffs of Dover. They sang all night and planned to take the Eurostar to France in the morning and hinder Arnold from visiting Stockhausen.

"It will not be good for him, (Arnold of course ) to stay with that grumpy German-stocken.", said Freckle, "We must save him and I have a muffinindustry, in Seattle, where we all can work, from now on".

"Yay,yay", said the Poet, "I love mangomuffins. They are so poetic...

"Jaja, some of those I bake are more than poetic, you wait and see! But I recommend you to eat only a half one, or the Seattledogs will have pain in their asses".

Now Eurostar docked and the first to roll off was Arnold, in his big tent.

"What? You have returned? How come?"said Freckle.

"I didn't like France and their tasteless frogs", said Arnold, with a snort. "I would rather go to my friend, the baker in Seattle".

"So appropriate, this was just what I would suggest", said Freckle and described her big business. They all applauded.

"To Heathrow", roared the poet, and the dragon-gnatgnats sang, with their castratovoices," Heathrooooiiiiw...

Soon they were in Seattle (if soon is 21 hours( Grilled froglegs with brown lumpsauce)), and since they had SMSed the baker, he met them at the airport. But he was redlettered. His brown box, ten minutes from Icecar, was full of unsold muffins, while Freckles shop was almost empty.

"But, but! You can work with us", said Freckle. "You are a genious baker and I have a place for you in my growing muffinempire. We can work while Arnolds castrato-children sing for us, with their whining voices. But please, Arnold no more eggs!

Arnold looked gloomy.

"No, I have enough of dragon-gnatgnats and I honestly never had some biological clock-ticking. The Eastereggs were some strange error from Mother Nature...

BUT, but...

[AGAG]

The poet was unrelentless with unreasonableness, he got up the chair while agitating his feather-cluster and flipped up the baker table, with all the muffins and duck sauces. "I don't understand! I never understand!" he yelled "The muffins are not made with duck, they NEVER are. Only in seattle and WHY not atlanta. Why not a mango muffin? Why not a cake of a watermelon? Why not a salvadorian poem?"

Listerine was alarmed at his action, he swiftly got a hair cleaner and moisturised the poet's head with great care. "There there... dear poet" He said " there are things we will never be able to understand. Like dental plaque and that dire effect doritos have on enamel.. Sometimes I cannot sleep. I torture myself with this issues, yet I still flap and floss every day.. It is a way to keep living!" \

"But but... Listerine!" Replicated the poet, with a now shinier cortex. "Where is the meaning in being clean? The chlidren always play and the pizza will always keep the grease. You wouldn't believe the times I tried to make vegetarian pupusas. All in vain, like a gay on a christian church or the lactose intolerance of a wide-armed galaxy. A handful of comatose nebulae, circling around an imaginary center circumscribed on black void. I've tried being a green carp always, maybe brave with a waterbottle as a home... But butt listerine! You don't understand.. I get scared when the dogs observe me with the soul. I get helpless when I find myself inside one of the dreams they have while contemplating the noons with a care that is just other-worldly. They know something we have never seen. They hear the wind. Their eyes are suns..."

The poet's scalp was now dripping with aloe. And freckle, the best-haired of the poet's friends said...

[ÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖ]

Jaja!

Vojne, vojne, have you put that aloe in your hair? Again? Haven't I told you it doesn't help your creativity! At all! Listerine is evil and will only manipulate you", said his "hairiest friend" .

"But Freckle, I am in such a predicament. How do I poeticice(?) a mango in a waterbottle?

"Pffff", said Freckle and returned to the baking-table, where she would prepare some mango-muffins to her most aloehaired friend.

But, but, a banana-peel, that her for-ever-loved stalking-object, had placed on a strategic place, put an end to her plan and she fell-just as he had hoped-and hurt her head badly. Blood spurted from a gush in her pale freckled forehead.

Close by stood the baker and laughed for himself. "Hahahahaha! There she had it! Haha! No more popular sin-muffins from her. I can be on the American top! Again! Haha! And stay there. I am a missionary in that region. But, huh, here comes the silly poet and calls for an ambulance. What an idiot! She should have stayed there in her pool of blood, the hair-fingered hircine-miserere".

The ambulance took Freckle to swedish Hospital and dr Gary Moster met her, "Oh, the muffin-lady herself? I will cure your head, as fast as i can. We can't be without our precious muffins too long".

But, but, he could sew some stitches, but he couldn't repair her brain. She had lost her memory and didn't remember a single muffin-recipe.

The baker was overjoyed. He had seen Freckle bake sin-muffins and he imitated her, as best he could, since she had an order of twohundred from the White House. But, but, he got it all wrong, even if he thougt they were a big success. He used too much of the sin-powder. But the muffins were puffy and golden-brown and looked very nomnom-ish, so he was very content with himself.

The White-House-staff were delighted and ate them all. Obama himself devoured five and with that was the catastrophe a fact. Vojne vojne!

All male-personel had to stay in closed rooms, and press and TV weren't allowed entrance. Big worries! What had happened? A contagious flu in the male-genitalia, since they all seemed to be a bit "bumpy" down there. But why did the females laugh so much? Rumours, rumours!

The president was in his bed! With his wife! And the vice-president, with some of his secretaries. Huh . US was without it's leaders. Without guidance. Outcounted. It was a national crisis and the worlds stock-markets fell like stones...

Was this a permanent, cronical male-condition as the worried doctors said?

HUHUHUHUHU

[GAGAGO]

You seem so alone here so I have come to resque you.

GAGAGO came to the hospital and found Freckle there all alone. She did not recognize him first but was very happy that someone took notice of her. So he took her with him to Granada where they lived happily after that.

[AGAG]

NO!

Granada suddenly came into a critical recession that unleashed a civil war of unprecedented proportions. The region withstood carnage and the systematic murdering of children of every family for 10 long months.

Meanwhile Freckle escaped mostly unharmed. OGAGAO couldn't follow because there was conscription for the granada-armada and guerillas, he was enlisted into the accordion team, in charge of lifting the guerilleros spirit in their war for freedom and communist stability.

This all happened while the US was pants-bumpy with the principal leaders being drawn blindly to the secretary rooms. Allegedly, the baker was a scoundrel from alquaeda that created a very resistant Viagra-isotope to poison the leaders. He was in the top ten of the FBI and Interpol. The baker had devised a plan in which the desease would spread through coughs, blood, urine, and any saliva interchange.

And the plans worked perfectly! In less than 2 weeks, new york was withheld in quarantine by the marines and the seals. The sea-lions, however, did not took part in the operation since the whole species were rather occupied. A gradual shift in the ocean-floor's tectonic plates were releasing sulfur into their cities. They tried to flap the water mud out of their backyards but it was useless.

Things would get worst... A skinny young man from Manhattan peed innocently into the Atlantic, releasing the deadly bump-isotope into the ocean waters. So the virus began a travel that encompassed the depths of the sea, the over-excitation of thermophiles in abyssal depths, the over-agitation of tuna-clouds, the sea-lion riots. All species of the sea experienced an all-time peak in their population numbers.

The cell had reached very long distances in some time and it finally found its way into the shores of... Yes! granada! A group of infested guerrilleros ravaged the capital...

Listerine, Freckle and the Poet watched the news and and...

[GAGAGO]

You are fun.

GAGAGO saw them. He was infected so he ran after them and and...

[ÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖ]

Pants-Bumpy!

Pain had moved into Gagagos pants and he looked as a big hamster, with swollen salivary glands.

"Help me Freckle! I have the pantsbumps"! he cried.

"No dear,you have mumps! We were just looking at the Granada-news and they said, that the fights here are over, since all the males have got mumps in their pants".

"What? How did we got that"?

"Have you eaten the chinese moss-muffins"?

"Yes, but everyone eats those muffins, they are cheap and good for constipation. Not to forget the M-vitamin. And isn't there some sin-powder too"?

"No, it is NOT. They are made in China, from Fox-moss, and there is not even M-hini in them. And don't they taste urk"?

"Yes, but they are recommended by our commandant, after the White House scandal, when the Seattle-muffins were prohibited"!

"The only thing they have is fox-moss-fibres and mutated mump-virus. Every guy that have eaten them have now pants-mumps".

"Huh! I had no idea!. But there are many dead from it too".

"Yes, but not humans, with full chromosome-set-up. It is the clones without X-chromosome that die".

"HUUUU, we had two of those in Finland. So they are dead now? I'm sorry. They were my clones! I was scared, but I also sort of liked them. Pekka gave them China-moss-muffins then? I'm sure it was ordered from Excessa. They told him that they came from Norna in Taurus".

"Yes I have heard that too, and thousands of Chineses, Africans and Eskimos are now dead from the mump-bump-virus".

"But, but, will I be all-right"?

"Yes, you look like an hamster now, haha, but you will soon be handsome again. And the war in Granada is over, so we have reasons to celebrate...

But, but...

[GAGAGO]

I am alone. I am bored. And I have mumps. And pant-bumps.

[ÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖ]

Jaja! It could be worse! You could fall on a banana-peel.




Yes, he was happy that Moss-Muffin-Baker,

When he tripped the nice Swedish Baker-Stalker,

She fell and almost died,

But he only laughed and smiled,

He is maybe not so kind, that Baker-Head-Breaker...

[GAGAGO]

Verses again? Have we not talked about this before? Deja vu?

[ÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖ]

No more verses no! For now!

So, where was the story?

Jaja, on Gagagos Granada, picking Easter-eggs, with baby-clones. Pekka had beamed in and helped the Poet, Freckle and Gagago and they had destroyed 58 (Chinese-eels with roasted rice), and half of those were Kinder-eggs, with disgusting chocolate and yellow bath-ducks.

"Only ducks and no toy-cars? I wonder why", said Freckle.

"Who knows, with these Nornan-clones-aliens, not allergic to sushi", said Pekka. "See how strange eyes they have. Only painted on them, but it seems as if they all look at us now! At me! Huh, they are a bunch of scary bath-ducks!"

"And, and, haven't they opened their beaks too!" the Poet was upset. He lifted one duck to take a closer look and Huuuu, it suddenly jumped, opened the beak and caught hold of his nose in a firm grip!

"Helphelphelp", screamed the poet.

"Kvackkvackkvack", was the answer and that was apparently the signal to the rest of the yellow army.

"Snipp-snapp", from nasty beaks. "Kvack, snipp, kvack, snapp".

They flew with their short plastic-wings, that had come lose, like kamicase-pilots in a joint attack against the three humans and one alien.

"Run, run", roared Gagago and they fled out of the house, with 29 (catrrotsoup) angry plastic bath-ducks after them.

When they all were out, Gagago slammed the door, but one duck had fastened in Pekkas hair, so he took it in a fixed grip and looked at it.

AND, AND, IT WAS NOTHING MORE THAN AN HARMLESS YELLOW PLASTIC BATH-DUCK, WITH PAINTED EYES AND WINGS, AND A RED CLOSED BEAK. HUUUUUU!

But, but,From the house they could hear deafening
KVACK-KVACK-SNIPP-SNAPP...

and and...

[ÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖ]

and, and, huh! Now Neverending has to take help from the tabloidpress to survive.


Hawaii west news.


Is Granada doomed?

by Gary Prank.

Granada! Again! What can be wrong with the little beautiful island, that ones was a popular retreat for stressed Hawaiians. First there came more than 9000 marching German goats, in helmets, from nowhere and people must flee.

Then there suddenly were prehistoric rexes, that ate the goats, and at last governor Gary Copper got enough and let U.S Constanza give the island some broadsides. It sank to the bottom of the deep ocean, with goats and rexes, but HUH, one morning it rose, like a bird Fenix, a little wet, but full of volcanic life!


People returned, a bit suspicious, but ready to make Granada bloom again. So what now? Yellow plastic bath-ducks? An invasion of ducks? But how could that happen? And how could they be so dangerous, that Copper is alerted. Again!

Hawaii News went there to investigate, and we had just anchored when we saw them. A yellow cloud! When it came closer we could see the ducks open red beaks and their evil blue eyes. Eyes that glared hungrily at us. But we were prepared, in protective overalls and steelhelmets with vizier, so they had nothing to gain. But they stormed in like angry vasps (Very Angry Speedy Pestilences) and hacked and hacked everywhere.

Klick, klack, kvack, kvack! They were full of poisonous wrath, over the disappointing result, and their blue eyes made evil-devil-flashs! It was the scariest sight this reporter ever have seen.

But, after some extra angry hacks, they went back to the island, and we were happy to leave this godforsaken place.

It is now said, that those ducks also are leaving Granada for North-America and that a big flock has been discovered in the mountains, in Seattle, where they seem to nest in a valley called Bakers Oven.

So maybe Granada will survive even this time, and one day be the peaceful island it once was. But can we be sure? I am afraid NOT!

Yours Gary Prank.

[GAGAGO]

Thank you for letting them leave us. I do not like to have ducks in my home when I come home......or in my bed...

What happen to us now? And to Pekka?

[ÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖ]

Ok, Ok, Gagago, but then you really have to sleep! Promise!

"So Freckle and Gagago built a bakery on Granada, and since she had got her memory back, she remembered all the secret recipes, and they found a very special Volcano-moss, with both vitamin M and just enough sin-powder, so they became very successful and exported their Granada-muffins all over the world".

"And Pekka? What happened to Pekka? And the Poet"?

"The Poet went back to El Salvador and wasn't heard from in months. He concentrated his creativity on "Greenbird 3" and is engaged in some fight among mangos and watermelons.

Pekka moved to his old buddy, the baker, in the brown box 2, in Seattle, ten minutes from Icecar. His friend Strutt is there too, and they are known as the three baking womanizer-musketeers and bake Sin-muffins in great secret, but, but, they eat most of them themselves. Haha! They really need them HAHAHA! They are also called "The fucking moss-eaters"!

But now you really must sleep! We have a looong day tomorrow...

[GAGAGO]

Ja it was really a long day and half night. I realize that I live at the worlds end.

Could you please tell me some more about us and Pekka I can not sleep for many hours. The jetlag is terrible.

[ÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖ]

I have nothing of interest to say just now and you have to count Hircins.

There are plenty!

[ÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖ]

Here is a little verse you can chew on.


A wonderful bird is the duck-pelikan,

His bill can hold more than a swan,

He can take in his beak

Food enough for a week,

But I'm damned if I see how the hell-he-can...

[GAGAGO]

Damn you have changed me. I like your verses now. But only yours. I will though hear more about us and Pekka.

[ÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖ]

US? Oh you mean Freckle and Gagago? I think they are baking those volcano-moss-muffins with red onions, all day long. And surf on week-ends.

Pekka loves his under-cover-bed-life in Seattle, with the two other fucking moss-eaters. At least that is what is said in Seattle Times...

[Stratowarius]

I read in "Continental Rock", where a girl, called Crystal, wrote about something, that could be of interest for "Neverending Story", since it had a neverending structure.

She wrote: I, Crystal, have come to know some big celebrities and I can only name them by their initials. NN, MP, and GT, because their story is almost not to be believed and rather embarrassing for all involved.

NN is the one I am, so far, most intimate with, and I was with him, when he met the other two, at the airport.

NN: Hi there, and wellcome to the beautiful Finland. Hope you are well!

M.P.:Fuck! It was a fucking long journey and where are the fucking polar-bears? Haha!

G.T.: Huh fuck! I am fucking tired. Let's skip the fucking skittalk, and go to the fucking hotell.

N.N.:Sorry guys, but we have to go directly to the studio. Time is money, you know, and you can take a nap there! I have borrowed a studio-cottage and some IKEA-mattresses. Very fucking comfy!

G.T.:WHAT? Are you from your mind? Oh sorry I remember. But I refuse to sleep on some fucking studiofloor!

N.N.:But, fuck, but! All my other musicians have done that. We must save money! You know how the record-industry is, in this fucking days!

M.P.: But isn't the same industry paying for this?

N.N: Njaaa, not exactly. It is an anonymus guy and he is kind of fucking economical. So jump in the car I have borrowed, from a friend, and we will drive to the beautiful studio-cottage in the beautiful finnish nature.

The two mumbled some juicy swearings, but went into the little car, N.N. had borrowed from a fucking friend and soon they were at "the beautiful cottage in the beautiful nature".

The first they saw was a gathering of brown mice, two black rats and one scared red fox...

To hopefully be continued...

[AGAG]

Red fox ran under a tree to contemplate the snowflakes and their neverending shapes. The snow was heavy. "Well well" He uttered, chewing a finnish summer-mango. Also red. "It seems we will have a company for the summer. In the winter we only have a dithering sun, you know. I watch from my tree-home TV set. It is like a cartoon, a big yellow ball that flares around. Haha But I was scared wasn't I? That's what it said on the last post and we don't want to make this inconsistent. I will chew some mangos and find some other place to stay. No need to worry. Really!"

So red fox got lost in the thick wilderness, in a hunt for a foxxy to spend the winter with. Not necessarily red, yet with a big long tail for extra warmth.

What was everyone else doing? NN was intimate and the others were taking care of other cottage-things, like they do on those swedish movies but with extra cursing I would suppose. So they were saying "fuck" while restoring the roof, that had leaked earnestly on the first august rain.

But wasn't it snowing just now?? Wow, what a crazy weather they had on Finland. Global warming was reaching the most polar areas of Finland now and that's why the foxes were so shy. On other colder occasions, a red fox would chew the fuck out of unarmed visitors.

The recordings started right away, after fixing the poorly patched roof. The chords sounded really sleepy and drifted out of tempo every single time. The chorus sounded like birds that fly by and modify pitch because of some weird physic effect. Maybe it was time to take a short nap and start again later in the evening, when the birds and miscellaneous flora were all asleep...

[ÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖ]

And, and, what have you been up to, all this time? A new "Greenbird" maybe? I have missed you, when I had to struggle with "Neverending", without you...


"I can't nap here, in the beautiful nature. It is too fucking quiet", said MP. "I hate silence, without rhythm
and this fucking murmuring and sighing trees, the wolfhowlings and mice and fox beepings, get on my nerves".

"Don't forget the fucking big bear-brum-brums and their knocking at the door and staring into the windows. They scare the fucking hell out of me. So let us make some noice and start recording. I want to sing, sing, sing", trumpeted GT.

"Jaja! I have written ten songs we can begin with", said NN.

"What? What? What the fuck are you talking about"? An unison loud outcry from two very redfaced guys. "Ten? Are you crazy? Oh, sorry, you are! But you promised us to share the fucking songlist".

"Jaja, but my art took over me, and I have made some cabaret-songs for the opera. I am after all a 92% master-mind. I will sing the opening song for you and I am sure you will be stunned.

And he sang, in Finnish-English, with his thin high-pitched little voice.

Jesus-Hitler from the Opera "Empires of Exiles"!

I saw Gods face in the East-front,
I felt that I was the reincarnation,
A leader, a saviour, a godsend at the horizont,
So it must be a celebration.

Here comes a guitarra-solo for five minutes. No drums! At all here!

I have no fear, oh dear, oh dear,
I live forever in a wolf,
And I came back as a little Adolf,
I am the key to the universe,
For ever, even in disperse,
A key, a key a key,
My love is free,
I have no fear,
God is with me...

First there was an embarrassing silence in the little cottage, in the beautiful Finnish nature. Then! A loudloud laugh broke out, and two redfaced guys lay floundering and kicking on the mouse-shitted floor. In exalted paroxysms...

[ÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖ]

N.N. rose slowly from his chair and looked at the two rolling and rocking celebrities on the floor.

"You pissed on my art! YOU PISSED ON MY ART! And I will pay you back!" He said between clenched teeth.

The two sat up and giggled. "You have mouse-shit in your hair", snickered GT to MP.

"You too, haha"! said MP, and then they started to pick each others hairpieces like apes, with the difference, that they didn't eat what they found.

N.N. was ominously quiet and calm, when he took off his Hitler-T-Shirt, his trousers and his yellow woolen pantaloons (oops another thread), but kept his red socks on.

There he was, in all his nudity. Palish and with more fat than muscles on his big round body. Can you see him? Scary? Yes!

He took two steps and came close to the two redfaced on the floor. He lifted up his little HUH...and you will maybe not believe this...but, yes he did...

The two mouse-shit-pickers flew up, but, oh it was to late! N.N. emptied what he had to empty on them, and they ran out in the beautiful Finnish nature howling and screaming their lungs out!

Yes, this was a sight, many fans would have loved to see...

They found a path to a little lake mother Nature so appropriately had placed there, and they jumped into the cold water still screaming.

After them came the naked N.N., very calm, but with a baseball-bat in his hand. He was boiling with rage and, and...

[AAAAAAAAAA]

...and he cried, "who lurks there, under the water?
I have brought here a bat to assist in your slaughter!
I will find you, he who lurks down below,
The pain that awaits you, you just don't know!

GT emerged, gasping for breath,
"Before you grant me the cold kiss of death,
Maybe you should step back and reminiscence
Why you coated me in your stinky piss,"

"Ahh there you are, now come meet your fates!
You emerged to the top, ass it works in the states,
I'll crush your neck and i'll smash your head,
And even those turkeys under your bed,
(Actually, whoops, never mind, wrong thread )

The hurt on my pride I will surely recoup,
Ever wondered how low I can stoop?
I peed on you then, and now I will poop,
I hope you enjoy my warm brown soup!"

NN began crapping upon his two foes,
Coating them thick from their heads to their toes,
When all of a sudden, a voice rang from afar,
"Has anybody seen my brand new guitar??"

[ÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖ]

If I only dared to steal those great rhymes...But no...It is too risky...


"Who could that be screaming for a guitarra? Up there in the sky? One of the two we will honour with this very strange record? Jesus or Adolf?", said GT.

"It must be Jesus! Adolf only spoke German and this bloke talks English", said M.P.

"Oh, Jesus Christ", exclaimed N.N. "I didn't believe in your father, but now I will believe in you. If you pay me of course".

"You piss and shit, too much for your own God. But if you promise, to only use toilets in the future, I will pay you. In Heaven"! boomed the voice.

"Huh,huh, what a pipe that guy has", said G.T. "But what is that for a big cloud of insects coming to us here on the beach"?

"Oh God and dear fucking Jesus and all his apostles", said N.N. "It must be Sumerian grasshoppers (sorry wrong thread. ) or even worse. Finnish Vaspi" (very-aggressive-specially-provocative-insects).

Ja,ja, Jesus had used M.P as a tool and let him step into an Earth-Vaspi-nest, on the run to the lake. The nest-roof was imoloded and destroyed and more than 9000 homeless Vaspis were very upset over the vandalism.

They had apparently order to attack N.N.'s bare butt or maybe they found it appealing. So they concentrated their stingpoison in the bleak-fat buttcheeks.

They all jumped in the lake, and in a sudden sympathy, the two celebrities screamed with N.N., and it sounded horrible. So they dived and screamed, dived and screamed, while the silent whispering trees in the beautiful Finnish nature held their breath...

[AGAG]

and soon they started to laugh. It is quite a thing to see a tree imbued with sudden laughter. But the wasps withdrew after not finding too much nutrition in the Beautiful Butt.

NN let loose again, now inside the lake.. Maybe TOO loose, since it wasn't just liquid that had been ejected this time. The fish ran away as fast as they could. ASs if all life depended on it.

This finished the divings and now, fully relieved of his fauna cyclical obligations, NN had to eat. GP discussed the art with MT, supposedly a puckering sphincter with nazi/christian significance.

NN's HUH was red and they had to make a trip towards a near cottage to ask for ointment...

[ÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖ]

The door was opened by a person that had hired the cottage, as some hide-out. A Russian gangsta, and he had never even heard of any of the three celebrities. But he didn't like what he saw and prepared for a little gangsta-war.

Three dripping wet, vaspi-stung-swollen rather ugly guys. Two were dressed in jeans and T-shirts with pictures of Jesus and Hitler kissing, under the device, Empire of Exiles-Opera. The third was fat and naked, but had very red socks and an also red Huh, where there still hang some vaspis trying to pump it up with poison.

But, the butt was even worse. The insects had apparently chewed on it and it was a really horrid sight, even for a Russian gangsta, that had seen the most. So he (the gangsta of course ) picked up his kalashnikov, from some pocket and ratatata, the bullets flew over the threes heads. Ratatata... the gangsta screamed something in Russian gangsta-slang, they of course didn't understand. But the kalashnikova-kalinka-song they took to their hearts or maybe more their feet, and seldom have three celebrities ran so fast.
To the lake, in the water. Swim, swim ! Swim-records were taken, as the walruslike Loch-Ness-monsters gushed up.

Soon they reached their own beach. But, but, there waited a new fright! The anonymous record and film-producer... and mr Sean Connory...and, and...

[HinatAArcticA]

They started singing: Can I stay away from you, if I get out of here soon? Would the road be paved by my mistakes, by the law or by you?

Every wall in here is blue, Every man here knows you too. We have seen your every curve....

THE SOLE GOOD PURPOSE YOU SERVE

[ÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖÖ]

"The sole purpose of this opera is to kindle the light in the darkness of mere being!" said Connory, when they stopped singing. "I am so happy to see you relatively well. We heard how you screamed and we feared, that some shark, in the beautiful Finnish nature, with the whispering trees, mirroring in the blue lake, ate you!

"But, but, NN", said the anonymous producer, "What happened to your butt and your pathetic Huh. There are still some, apparently drowned, vaspis hanging about"!

"Vojne, vojne" said NN, and removed the dead vaspis from his very darkred and swollen Huh. "There was a strong biblical voice up there, in the sky, and it must have been Jesus! Who else? An alien? Pekka? (sorry wrong topic ) Maybe he (Jesus of course ) was angry over this opera-project and will stop us with vaspis and gangsta-kalashnikovs".

"Gosh! Gangsta and vaspis, gosh! You don't say", said Connory. "And I will portray Jesus and must be in great danger. How do you feel about being Hitler, NN? How do you think now, after that strong vaspi-attack"?

"I have written ten fantastic songs, and I don't give up, if you dare to stand by, Connory. Hitler is powerless nowadays, and he has the most beautiful of all songs! So...

GT and MP were angry! Again! "I am not in any longer", said MP. "We were promised to write seven songs for this opera, and I was the one to be Jesus. No one talked about some Connory and you can't sing, what I know of. Neither can this fat Hitler, with a red Huh, so it will be horrible, with those very bad songs. I am leaving your beautiful, dangerous Finnish nature, and am going home to civilization...

But, but, the opera...

[GAGAGO]

When do you introduce Pekka in this story? And me?