Originally published in Far out Wizard Magazine
Without a doubt, one of the most popular shows ever is gladiators (TM) This live carnage show not only features live deaths almost every single fight, but sometimes even members of the audience end up dead as well. Audience members have to sign a release form stating that the owners of the franchise are not responsible for injury's or deaths the happen during the joust. In fact, if they wished, the security guards could open fire on the audience, burn them all to death with the emergency exit doors locked and not have to suffer a single legal hassle about it. The gladiators themselves come from various sources. Many of them are slaves, from having there city's taken over, or from being indebted. Some are criminals hoping to get out of prison and back onto the street for some free thug life.
Missing section
Originally published in Going Stoned Magazine
The Cry of Cthulhu 1997
vary loosely based on the writeing of H P Lovecraft this rather dumb movie deals with Howie Lovecrest, a muscle bound stud in tight jeans and a designer shirt, the movie starts with him buying some wierd looking green drink at this big horny rave. He lays down some super fluid funky dance moves to a raved up re-mix of a Limp Bisuit song and captures the drug fueled heart of a dark mysterious woman in a green cellophane outfit and wierd lumpy hat. They cuddle in the quiet room where soft ambient music plays for the overheated and the overly freaked out drug victums.
"Do you fuck like you dance" , The lady asks as she lights up a long black cigarette. a couple puffs and a sliver blue smoke comes from the burning stick.
"Mfeiwos", Says Howie, his words overcome by the surgeing bass and wailing synths.
She bends closer and says "Cuse me", He sticks his tongue onto her face and licks her like a lollipop.
A role playing game outline published in Polyhead Ron's fanzine in 2002
One day you are surfing the web using your new webtronic box. The webtronic box hooks you up to the internet at speeds of up to 250 k a second download time. A very nice thing for research and illegal mp3 downloads. Anyway there is a message box l c d readout on the device that gives error messages , alerts about upgrades , and gives local temperatures. One day while downloading a long porn video the message screen says "Help me" ( consult picture one) A chill goes down your spine is this the work of hackers? Have player(s) make a computer use roll the default is 20 %. Success means you have hacked into the line and found out where the message came from.
The message came from the Webtronic's building. There's one such building in every major city , this is where the beams are sent out that the home devices pick up. The building where you send your fifty dollar , box retail , web service check to. The building is located in the business area down town , where all the big over one hundred year old buildings are.
The building is three story's high with a deep scary basement. A security guard hangs out just inside the door , the entry hall. He has a handgun and club at his hips , he is big and mean looking. If characters enter he will give a cold murderous look and say "Hello".
If players chill and see what else happens with the webtronic box , another message shows up "I'm am a slave". Another computer roll can retrive the area of the building message came from (basement) if the first roll was successful , if not it tells one of the webtronic location. The building has a small parking garage to shield the employee cars fro vandalism and theft. A general parking lot that can hold ten cars and has 1d10 parked there is for the non employee types. Security cameras watch both parking lots and have a 20 % chance of security noticing any suspicious behavior. There is a guard in the parking garage as well , and a trap door that blocks entry untill guard pushes the button to let you in. If cops are called they arrive in 1d10plus 1d4 minutes as they are payed to have a fast response time and are usually in the area.
Originally published in Far out Wizard Magazine
Without a doubt, one of the most popular shows ever is gladiators (TM) This live carnage show not only features live deaths almost every single fight, but sometimes even members of the audience end up dead as well. Audience membes have to sign a release form stateing that the owners of the francise are not responsible for injurys or deaths the happen during the joust. In fact, if they wished, the security guards could open fire on the audience, burn them all to death with the emergancy exit doors locked and not have to suffer a single legal hassle about it. The gladiators themselves come from varyous sources. Many of them are slaves, from haveing there citys taken over, or from being indebted. Some are criminals hopeing to get out of prison and back onto the street for some free thug life.
Originally published in Going Stoned Magazine
The Cry of Cthulhu 1997
vary loosely based on the writeing of H P Lovecraft this rather dumb movie deals with Howie Lovecrest, a muscle bound stud in tight jeans and a designer shirt, the movie starts with him buying some wierd looking green drink at this big horny rave. He lays down some super fluid funky dance moves to a raved up re-mix of a Limp Bisuit song and captures the drug fueled heart of a dark mysterious woman in a green cellophane outfit and wierd lumpy hat. They cuddle in the quiet room where soft ambient music plays for the overheated and the overly freaked out drug victums.
"Do you fuck like you dance" , The lady asks as she lights up a long black cigarette. a couple puffs and a sliver blue smoke comes from the burning stick.
"Mfeiwos", Says Howie, his words overcome by the surgeing bass and wailing synths.
She bends closer and says "Cuse me", He sticks his tongue onto her face and licks her like a lollipop.
From poetry of the mid west volume 34923
In these unsure times many began spending forty percent of each paycheck on food, even if fifteen twenty percent could have fully fed them. Food hoarding. Water hoarding to. Jack stepped out of the bardo, a neutral dimensional limbo onto the solid ground of bubbling vomit land, By now he had full knowledge of his previous incarnations and dimensional shifts. He thought this place looked kinda like an American city. Food hoarding in the b v l lets get going cause it's a ground swell. Tisha Clemmins was preforming at the pussy closet, a strip joint located near a army base. Showing her pink parts for the boys of bubbling vomit land. She did not look forward to this one and whats worse, the club owner couldn't even get her any coke, just some meth and kanna extract mixture, she bought some anyway, she needed something to mix with the booze to preform and get into it. Before the show she snorts a couple lines of the meth, chasing it with three shots of sour whiskey. Now she felt alright and was ready to go out there and get totally naked, spreading her legs on stage while greasy aircraft workers, and randy military boys howled and waved dollar bills. She had been stripping since 1985, a year out of high school and needing money for cocaine. By 1987 she was having penis's spurt into her face and getting one in each hole for pay, she did twelve porns in five years. She also prostituted herself hear and there, it wasn't much different than shooting porns, except it was one on one, or one on three, but no cameras rolling, as far as she knew.
Jack stood in front of a strip joint, called Bunny Kitty's.
Tisha sat topless in the dressing room holding a ice cube to her nipples till they stood out bold and rigid.
Jack went inside the place, he paid the five dollar cover charge with a alternative American currently, the man didn't notice until much later when he saw the smiling face of Richard Nixon on the five dollar bill. Jack sat himself in the front row of the place with a pitcher of beer, again purchased without anyone realizing the oddness of the cash.
"Up next, and you will all be up to! Tisha Clemmins!", the coke addled d j for Boss23, a local classic rock radio station.
Jack sipped his beer as Tisha walked onto the stage. Music from one of her porns played in the background, Jack recognized it! Fuckin at the bay! He saw this movie, or perhaps a alternative dimension version of it when he was 19 years old. He remembered Tisha to! She looked so good in that flick when she sucked cock, that hungry looks in her eyes as she stared at the camera. He liked her glossy black hair, like ravan's wings. She looked so soft and smooth, nice to hug up to. Now here she was onstage, looking older, it having been some fifteen years since he last wanked to her sacred image. But she looked good, and still had that ravan black hair and sparkly eyes.
Tisha had a decent buzz going, thanks to the meth, six shots of whiskey, and a couple puffs off a joint one of the other strippers was passing around backstage. She was onstage and dancein to the eighties hair metal bands she still listened to. She is wearing thigh high black shining leather boots, red frilly panies, a tight white shirt with no bra, looking good, now she is dancing.
Jack loved this stripper! Ah yes, so creamy!
Tisha turned around and shook her small but nice ass to a twisted sister tune. She then danced to the front of pervert row and bend down to stroke a curly haired man with thick glasses on the chin, he smiled and tipped his tonuge out.
Jack found himself chugging the beer as he stared at this lady, probaly an alternative dimensional version of the porn star he had janked to as a young man, but close enough. Now she was facing an old man who happened to be a aircraft plant exec, she lifted up her shirt, showing her belly, then farther, just below her breasts. If I had more tip money, fuck it, I'll spend what I have, the next place I go may use frozen cum nuggets for money. He got out his three one dollar bills and waved it to his dream porn queen.
Tisha accepted the dollar, he placed into her pantys, feeling a brief smooth warm fleshy feeling. She was up and swirling on the pole, shaking her ass some more.
Jack had discovered one brittle fact about his bardo traveling, he never stayed long, seems he always ended up being killed, starving, getting crushed by a rock slide, you name it. He didn't expect to be here long either. At least this was a pleasant phaze in a unpredictable passage. He thought about pergurtory, a place of punishment for maybe a thousand years before heavon, for the mid line sinners. he thought of the bardo and other versions of a mid afterlife. Tisha went backstage for a custom change and strip tease phase two, the tits!
Backstage , Tina slapped Tisha's tits for good luck. Tisha accepted a couple hits off that hash pipe as she changed into the custom she wore in Ladies prepare cock, a hit porn of 1999. Another line of meth, a couple more shots. She is ready to go back onstage and show her tits for the drooling crowd. She is dressed in a cute bunny outfit, complete with bunny ears and a tail above she thonged ass. She had bunny feet slipper, a tight white shirt that made her nips pop out and demand attention. She was ready to go out there, on the sound system "Slide it in" by whitesnake started, she strutted out there to a chorus of hoots and catcalls.
Jack got a pitcher of beer and had the first glass half drunk when Tisha returned to the stage, he hooted with the others and finished the glass quickly. She was swaying and kicking, whirling on the pole, like she was on crystal meth or something. Then she crawled up to a aircraft employee with a fuck France teeshirt. She put her face almost an inch from his face, licked her lips, stood up and pulled her shirt away. The men cheered. Bunch of eighties dudes in here tonight, her perfect audience. Jack watched her wet shiny sex eyes. Small white breasts , with brownish nipples, also small. Nice skin, looks fun to taste and lick. She was going all along pervert row, getting close to the leering men and accepting dollars, hugging some of the big tippers up to her, pressing those cute breasts against them. Jack made for his wallet , he offered up a twenty , she hugged him close and she firm naked breasts pressed against his arm. He smelled her exotic perfume, and she brushed her lips against his cheek for a moment as she got up to head for the next tip. Jack shook with thrills and hornyness, but in the back of his mind his was wandering what impending doom awaited him, him seldom lasted more than a week anywhere before violent death. Once he found himself on a tropical planet, he was standing up and facing a rapid river, as soon as he registered this, he heard a gunshot and was gone again, before his body hit the ground.
Jules Knife lived out in the country, where the kids drove around cooking meth and shooting people's pets from the passenger window. Shotguns and rifles rung out they're growl all day and all night, the country never rests, it is infested with meth and booze and guns and loud trucks, dogs and music. Jules was out of work, the meth heads kept stealing his tires, battery and other car parts to trade for more pleasure, and to avoid the demon sleep. Once in his memory was a few quite hours every once in a while, a stillness full of peace and bliss. That was all over and the world was drying up. The crops keep failing because the meth heads steal all the anhydrous, either that or the farmers sell it all to em. The Meths heads stole Jule's car parts and house hold items on a nearly daily bases while he was at work. Finally being late or not getting to work do to theft problems of items like the tires led to him being fired. He was from an old tribe but the tribe had pretty much died out and he was on his own, living in a doorless, windowless place the the methheads share when he is not around. They piss on the walls. He vowed to kill one of those fuckers, but they had stolen his rifles and knives, he only had a few sharpened sticks and rocks to use against them.