From: SpamOok@spam.com (Borly)
Subject: ASSC It was a dark and stormy AFTSD


It was a dark and stormy night as I headed to the warm confines of the
Glossary. I was looking for a (==/`=), but ALS was nowhere to be found. As
I scanned the room, I saw that -->, Bob "fill in the blank" Smyth, was
gone as well. Knowing the current state of the place, I was sure I was
going to have to settle for an Air Dance. I sat down near the Office, the
remnants of the old ASSC-HQ, remembering the glory days...the way it used
to be. Those hot nights in a Boof, the Stick Shifting, the Mileage. But
nowadays, I spent most of my time brushing off the Mercy Dance types, with
the Stripper Shit ringing in my ears. I picked up the paper next to me,
scanned the LNS for anything newsworthy. For a break, I headed over to
IRC, to check out the #ASS-C, and ASSCWeb, but it was no good, the Link
was down.

Falling back into my seat with a BTDT feeling, it was starting to look
like an early night. I scanned the K-Mart crowd for signs of life. I felt
like just another Bubba, sitting SFC, watching as the HMS "my life" sinks,
just like any other Hurl Story you've heard a million times over. The
SCene was getting too much for me, maybe I was feeling a little
Epiphanistic. I thought about going to see Godzilap, over at the MSC, but
realizing it was an ASSCycle thought, I knew it was pointless. So, I sat
there, with the rest of the PL trash. In comes another joe Touron, a BLT
with a White Knight persona if ever I saw one. The air was heavy, a quick
glance told me that the LDE was low, and any ATM with an LBB was better
off elsewhere.

It was beginning to look really bad, a night that made me think of days
long ago, when I was Agent 1.5 in the ASSCia. My job as MT Newswatcher
kept me busy, sorting out the daily Kill Filters for the lowly
underclassed NewsXpress boys. The constant ASSCon patrols, up to the NC
line, over to CH alley, then back a few klicks to the MBOT zone, with the
final pickup point at CP. If The Ghost was feeling particularly cruel,
we'd run the CP-4-3 or even a CP-4-4, which was more than even your
average Ted Turner could handle. The only game in town back then was the
ChezMaz, run by kindly Dr Mazoola. I hit it big at the ASSCasino one
night, but I forgot the Gurule and blew it all on a Blind Lap. Most of the
ASSCer platoon were okay, but you had to keep an Eye on LMR and that
Z-Bone of his, if not, he would Shango it your way. I thought of my first
patrol, ASSCon-1, we were running the DJV, over to TL, then back to "base"
LLCoolChez. The BYOSB in charge, Marc182 was putting some CMG in his MPCN.
He gave me that YetAnotherNewswatcher look, and sent me to DrD for a check
up, who gave me plenty of Ook to keep me fired up. It'd been so long since
I'd even thought of the ASS-C gang.

I was jarred out of my X-Factor. I figured some Shill had bumped into me.
I jerked my gaze up, expecting to see some poor Snaggy stumble away. SHIT!
FUCK! DAMN! It was her, my ATF, the one responsible for my painful
Customer Damage. The woman responsible for my personal Stage Inflation.
The hot trips to LDNP were burned in my mind forever, and I had to think
hard just to keep my SamKool. She was my own definition of YMMV. But the
years of Stripper Damage, DP, and Customer Shit had taken their toll, and
I heard she was just another ESP now. She stood there, the ClubCrud
flaking off of her.

"So, what're you doing here?" I asked. She coolingly replied "Shift
Happens....whats a PE like you doing in a Strip Club like this"? I was HOF
outta luck and she knew it. She was still the Epiphanizer, and she had the
BYOD to prove it. But I was in luck, she'd had one too many TAFKA that
night, and with a YAGB she stumbled on.

It was getting late, and I needed to be going. Mr King appeared with my
coat, and after an inquiring "no LRR tonight"? I made my way to the door.
As I passed, the door Glossarist bid me farewell. I went out into the
darkness of the early morning, and seeing the faint glow of dawn coming
over the horizon, made me wonder if it was going to be another AFTSD.

Borly