posted 05-31-99 05:42 PM ET        

(Inside, the atmosphere is light and cheerful. The veterans of the forums, among them Imran, Roland, Q Cubed, SnowFire, and MikeH stand around talking, trying their hand at the numerous sideshows, or killing Chrisk, Hey_Hey_Hey_Yo and nolaT for fun and profit.)

(The main door creaks open. The collected forumers look and gasp, for standing in the doorway is the ultimate incarnation of evil.)

The Ultimate Incarnation of Evil: Tinky-Winky!

Rev. Jerry Falwell: Oh my god, we missed one! And it's the gay one! KILL IT! KILL IIIIIIT!

(Rev. Jerry Falwell pulls out a shotgun and unloads a pair of shells into the Teletubby's chest.)

Tinky-Winky: Tinky...

(The Teletubby collapses in a pool of Teletubby castor oil blood. Rev. Jerry Falwell walks up and riddles the corpse with a submachine gun.)

Rev. Jerry Falwell: See you in hell, major annoyance. (he realizes what he's said) Hey, wait a minute... I'm a reverend, so I automatically go to Heaven! Ha ha! Screw you, bitch!

(Rev. Jerry Falwell dances on Tinky-Winky's corpse.)

MikeH II: Who invited him, again?

Q Cubed: Nobody did. He mysteriously fell in through the skylight a couple of hours ago. We lost five people trying to get him to leave.

Saras: Leave this to me... I used to be in LAPSES, I still have a few tricks up my sleeve.

(Saras marches up to Rev. Jerry Falwell and punches him in the back of the head, knocking him down. He then proceeds to tear the reverend's limbs off and beat him with them, spit down his throat and tear out his spine.)

Saras: That's for being an asshole!

(Saras rushes off and gets the Rev. Jerry Falwell spine bronzed.)

(Meanwhile, Fjorxc and Freerunner step over the corpses of Tinky-Winky and Rev. Jerry Falwell, as Carnivean the janitor comes to clean them up. As the two CWALers make their way to the security checkpoint, a dumpster conveniently materializes next to Carnivean and the bodies.)

Carnivean: The hell?

(There is some rustling among the garbage in the dumpster. jsorense pops his head out.)

jsorense: Well, that was certainly unproductive! Hmm. Maybe I should look in the recycle bins. Of course! That's where they've been hiding it! The dastards! Thou art God, God is great!

(jsorense rushes off. The instant he's out of the blast radius, the dumpster mysteriously explodes, showering Carnivean with multiple pieces of jagged metal and pieces of flaming refuse.)

Carnivean: AAAAAH! MY EYES! THEY BUUURN!

(Carnivean runs around in a tight circle attempting to claw his eyeballs out, not yet realizing the pain from the multiple lacerations covering his body.)

Carnivean: MAKE IT STOP! MAKE IT STOP!!!!!

(Carnivean collapses from loss of blood and dies. Meanwhile, Fjorxc and Freerunner arrive at the checkpoint.)

Security Guard: Identification, please.

(Fjorxc and Freerunner give the guard their "Registered Forum Archon" ID cards. The guard looks at them for a moment, then hands them back.)

Security Guard: Which one of you lost an arm in Desert Storm?

Freerunner: Was that you, Forksy?

Fjorxc: I don't think so...

Freerunner: Hmm. I dunno. We can't remember.

Security Guard: All right then, what does NIM stand for?

Fjorxc: N* I******* M********.

(Note: the true meaning of NIM has been censored for the common good. In short, we don't want you to know. If we did, there wouldn't be that large mutant bat trying to munch on your earlobes right now.)

Security Guard: All right, go through.

(Fjorxc and Freerunner head through the laser gates and instinctively head for the bar. Must be a Canadian thing.)

Fjorxc: Gimme a Nerve Stapler.

Freerunner: Make mine a Virtual World.

(After a short wait, the drinks come. Freerunner chugs her Virtual World in a single gulp and immediately gets crosseyed.)

Freerunner: Aah... the colors... no! No! Get away, foul-smelling winged caribou! EVAAAAL! AAAAAH!

(Freerunner collapses on the floor.)

Fjorxc: Ah, there's nothing like a good Nerve Stapler, is there, Runner? Runner, you there?

(Fjorxc leans over and sees Freerunner passed out on the ground.)

Fjorxc: Ouch. That Virtual World must have some kick. Wonder what'd happen if I gave some to old Fronny boy.

(Fjorxc imagines giving Fron several liters of Virtual World and taking over the Dominion sometime during the four months the Emperor would be intoxicated.)

Fjorxc: Excellent...

(Meanwhile, Freerunner shakily stands up and staggers toward the cannon fodder shooting gallery.)

CrayonX: Come one, come all! Try your luck and aim at our patented cannon fodder shooting gallery! See if you can kill this cannon fodder in the most creative way and win a prize!

(Freerunner wobbles up to CrayonX.)

Freerunner: Lemme *hic* shoot.

CrayonX: Well then, come right this way and choose your weapon! We've got everything from crossbows to Glock 17s and shredder pistols!

Freerunner: The cutting *hic* one.

(CrayonX hands the shredder pistol to Freerunner.)

CrayonX: Here ya go. Have fun.

(Freerunner drunkenly hoists the shredder pistol.)

Freerunner: Ready... *hic* aim... hey, what's that?

(Freerunner twists around but fires the pistol nevertheless. As fate would have it, the gun is pointed at CrayonX's leg when it goes off.)

CrayonX: AAAAH! SWEET MERCIFUL KESUS, MY LEG! OWIE OWIE OW! IT BURNS!

Freerunner: Whoops... sorry.

(Freerunner wobbles off, leaving CrayonX to his agony. Attracted by the cries of pain, the holographic Brother Greg comes up, brandishing an array of sharp and painful-looking surgical equipment.)

Brother Greg: Well, well, well! Seems you've torn all the skin off your leg. Not to worry, the holographic Brother Greg is here! Just lie still and I'll get to work on you. Too bad my only experience was in veterinary medicine...

(Forty minutes later)

Brother Greg: ...and there we go, the neutering is complete! That'll be fifty bucks.

(CrayonX says nothing. He lies on the ground in pain. Finally, he takes a nearby Magnum .357, puts it to his head, and quickly redecorates the nearby floor.)

Brother Greg: Bastard. That's the last time I work for free.

(The holographic Brother Greg pulls out a pair of rifles and starts shooting them into the roof. He then runs out of the convention center in a frenzy.)

(Outside the convention center, there is another gathering of forumers. But these are not the privileged few who showed up in the ancient mists of time. These are newbies, the disciples of the ways of SMAC. However, these are also extremely pissed-off newbies, making them one of the most dangerous forces on either Earth or Planet. Their leaders are also at the head of the anti-Victor crusade, tfs99 and trippin daily.)

tfs99: All right men, this is what we've trained for. Now, we know that the one, the only... DA DA DUM... Victor Galis is in that facility right now. The opportunity to avenge his insulting of us is now. We'll go in, overpower the guards, massacre Victor and anybody else we see fit, and leave. Any questions?

Newbie #4231: I was just thinking, maybe we shouldn't be so anti-Victor. I mean, he's just defending SMAC and stuff.

(tfs99 gets an evil glint in his eye.)

tfs99: You better not have just said what I thought you said. Because if you said what I thought you said, this is what will happen.

(trippin daily pulls out his sidearm and puts a bullet through the head of Newbie #4232.)

Newbie #4232: I LOVE YOU, AL GORE!

(He dies.)

tfs99: Dammit, trippin! That was the best fighter in our whole army! How could you do that?

trippin daily: Hey, you told me to kill a newbie at random whenever they asked a question. It's not my fault if he was our best. That's his, isn't it?

"STOP!"

(The newbies twist around. Standing there is Imran Siddiqui, the sole remaining Master of NIM.)

Imran: I cannot allow you to carry out this plan.

trippin daily: Oh yeah? How's that?

Imran: Watch and learn.

(Imran closes his eyes and concentrates. A blue aura forms around him, and bolts of energy begin to fly over the newbies. After a few minutes, he opens his eyes. Except for tfs99 and trippin daily, all of the newbies have turned into flourescent purple raccoons.)

tfs99: That's not so hard to do.

(Imran concentrates again. A rift opens up beneath tfs99 and trippin daily, sucking them back in to the war-torn dimension known only as The Game.)

Imran: There. Done and done.

Victor: And now for something completely different.