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30 SecondsEvery 30 seconds.Before me lies a massive battlefield. Two opposing teams have flooded out from their respective bases, and are locked in combat. The goal: to control the battlefield and kill as many of each other as possible.Every 30 seconds.I stand atop Lumberyard Hill. I can see both sides clearly, though none living can see me. The Alliance is having an off day. A hunter and an undead priest charge up the hill on their mounts; the warrior by the flag spots them and beckons to the mage. These two have been charged with guarding a central hot-spot in Arathi Basin not an enviable task. Every 30 seconds.The Horde soldiers reach the top of the slope and hop off their mounts. The hunters peta wolf, probably brought with him from Kalimdorcharges the mage and is promptly turned into a sheep. A red targeting arrow appears over the mage and he
Come Hither, Little PigCasting:PigWolves 1-7Men 1-2Props:SetComputer monitor & keyboardTelephoneCrutch & cup for Wolf 7A quarter or other large coinChainsawSFX:1: Truck engine dying2: Computer connecting to Internet3: Doorbell4: Telephone ringing5: ChainsawFirst scene: A gathering of wolves. (All the wolves are present.)Wolf 1: Man, I'm hungry. I haven't had a fresh kill in days.Wolf 2: Yeah, the forests are thinning. Fresh food is getting harder to find.Wolf 3: Well, there's that pig across the road, but he never leaves his house alone, and there's no way to get inside the house.Wolf 4: We've got to try. I'm starving. Whoever kills the pig gets half the meat!All wolves cheer, exitSecond scene: Left side is a red brick house with a pig typing on a computer, right side is outside the house. Separated by a stout wooden door. Sound Effect 1. Wolf 1 approaches from the right and knocks.Pig: Who is it?W
Evening with Poetsrouteinfo:From: Bob VanceTo: Victor Thorneton, Editor, Metropolis magazineSubj: Interview with R. Emerson and H. ThoreauDatetime: August 7, 1840; 10:47 PM Pacific time**textfollows**Note: The following is an interview I conducted with our resident poets, Mr. Emerson and Mr. Thoreau. Seeing as our magazine is directed towards the middle-to-upper class city segment, I thought our readers would find it interesting to see the direction our country's intellectuals are going. The results I have found are both interesting and a little chilling. See the attached transcript of our interview.*CLICK* [tape recorder hiss]I have just arrived at the restaurant, Joe's Diner, in preparation for my interview with Mr. Thoreau and Mr. Emerson. The date is August 7, the time is 5:58 PM, and here comes Mr. Emerson.*CLICK* *pop*[Background noise: restaurant activity. Conversations can be heard in the background, waiters moving around
ResurrectionIt is now three days since everything that was good in the world died. We eleven are sitting together, moping, and wondering what to do next. We have had much time to consider with a new perspective some of what Jesus said. So many of Jesus' teachings were metaphorical, it was often difficult to figure out when He was serious. Who would have guessed He was prophesying His own death, and who would have guessed it would happen so soon? He was with us for so short a time. Now, looking over the few, precious notes we took during His life, we see several references to "rise on the third day". He couldn't mean that, though, not literally—how is that possible? No, Jesus is dead—as dead as He can ever be, as long as we remember Him. The question, though, remains: What next?And then two ladies come around the bend, yelling two words that forever change the purpose of the universe:"He lives!"///
Paul"All right, Mr. Myronger, impress me. What is it you want me to spend eleven and a half million dollars on?"The scientist cleared his throat, then paused and looked directly at the speaker. "Mr. Thornton. Have you ever wanted to meet someone who lived hundreds, even thousands of years ago?" He paused a moment to let that sink in, then continued, "Now you can."Silence reigned in the conference room. Myronger continued, "My project, which I've code-named Archimedes, has been built and proven in the past. We were able to successfully bring to the modern age an important historical figure. Unfortunately, my machine was destroyed soon after, and I haven't the funds to build another one out of my own pocket. That's what I need from you. In return, I will give you indisputable proof of which New Testament theological doctrines are true and which are not."There was another pause, then Thornton
The VirusOnce upon a Sunday sunny, I step inside, my nose all runnyTo fight a foul beast that I have often seen before--My friend's comp has a virus nasty; I must eradicate infections ghastlySo we can play a game we loved in forgotten days of yore.I sit down in the chair so squeaky, and view the desktop with icons neatlyArranged in rows and columns which the Virus lurks behind.CD-ROM popped into drive, I sit back and prepare to diveInto battle with this product of demented mind.A Virus scanner I install—Sure enough, ten files allBear the ugly signature of virus' infection.The ones I can, I quickly save; the rest to their digital graveI now will send, quelling their insurrection.But what's this? Cannot files move! Each locked into his special grooveRefuses Quarantinement or deletion.Time for the second level. I "No more Mr. Nice Guy" cryLike Atrus trying to reclaim Releeshan.I shut down and quickly reboot in Safe Mode where the Virus, sooth,Can d