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***************************THE BACK ISSUES**********************************
*******************PARTS THIRTY-ONE TO THIRTY-FIVE**************************
      (Written by Daniel Bowen, Monash University, Melbourne Australia)

______________________________________________________________________________


Rude stuff up the top, political stuff down the bottom


     "I've seen a lot of references to Toxic Custard.  But what is it?
      Does it have something to do with vaginal discharge?"
                                   Geoff Miller, Sun Microsystems, California

TOXIC-------------------------    **** ***   -------------------------Number 31
CUSTARD---------------------------- **  **        -----------------------------
WORKSHOP----------------------    ****  ** --------------------------Fourteenth
FILES---------------------          **  **  -------------------------of January
Written by Daniel Bowen---------  **** ****          ----------------------1991
--------------------------END OF THE WORLD EDITION-----------------------------


ACCOUNTANTS!
Problems balancing the books?
Got a few figures you want to get rid of?
If *you've* got numbers that you'd like to disappear, why not call
FASCIST ARSON SERVICES. We'd be happy to burn any sensitive papers
or books you may have lying around. Ask about our very reasonable
Government building charges.


In an attempt to make the country a happier place, the government
have announced a scheme known as the "scowl penalty". Anyone seen
scowling will be penalised $20 on the spot. Further charges will
be introduced in an effort to prevent people frowning, yawning
with intent, and arguing in public.


There is an epidemic that is spreading across our world. Nobody
knows where it came from, but more and more people are catching
it. It turns them into tragically disfigured versions of their
former selves. They lose all sense of dignity. I am of course
talking about those bloody pouch things that people are wearing
now; it's like a black plastic wallet with a strap that wraps
around your waist, and it looks STUPID!! But anyway...


TCWF targets the American market:
    And now a joke exclusively for our American readers.

            "Toxic's fallen - and it can't get up!"

[Thanks to James "Kibo" Parry and Julia Wilkinson for that one.
I personally don't really see the funny side of adapting a
catch-phrase from an ad about panic buttons, but there you go...]



TUESDAY'S WEATHER - FOR HELL
Hell will be hot during tonight, boiling over to boiling early Tuesday
morning. Towards the middle of the day it will be sweltering, with a
heat-wave later in the day.
      Wednesday: Hot
      Thursday: Hot
      Friday: Hot
      Saturday (the day that peace is predicted to be declared in the
           Middle East, the national economy will recover, pigs will
           fly, and a brain scan on Dan Quayle will be positive): Cold,
           with snow and ice, possible blizzards.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You may have been reading the TOXIC CUSTARD WORKSHOP FILES Number 31.
The BESTESTESTEST OF TCWF Volume 1 is now available. If you would
like to order this, or to complain or comment on this crap, mail
tcwf@gnu.ai.mit.edu                                  Have a nice war.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

SOON TO TOXIC CUSTARD WORKSHOP FILES (*) - A WHOLE NEW ORIGINAL
CONCEPT IN COMEDY
There's this bloke with a dead parrot who walks silly, and he goes
to buy some cheese, but the shopkeeper turns out to be a member of
the Spanish Inquisition, and all they have is spam. So he pays for
an argument and goes to another shop in Bolton and buys a lemon curry.

                                          (*) Apocalypse permitting


AND NOW A WORD FROM THE PENTAGON
To all those sissy wimps who don't want a war - remember what we're
talking about here! What about all the oil we won't be able to
pollute the atmosphere with if we don't liberate Kuwait? What about
all the money people will make selling guns, bullets and planes?
If we don't attack, the stock-market might crash again. And we won't
be able to re-install the royal family of Kuwait. Dammit, they are
VERY rich!
Honestly, you pacifists are all the same, always thinking about the
human lives lost - what about the dollars and the oil?

AND NOW ANOTHER WORD FROM THE PENTAGON
Oh, and by the way... about those 45,000 body-bags we had shipped to
Saudi Arabia. They're actually going to be used to smuggle booze
in to our troops; otherwise we couldn't get it to them. Honest.
We're not really sure what we'll carry back in them though. Any ideas?

______________________________________________________________________________


Look - up in the sky!

Is it a bird?
Is it a plane?
No, it's a SCUD missile...

 # - - - - - - - - -##  TOXICO     #   # #   # #   # # # NUMBER 32
####  ####  # # #  #    CUSTARDI    # #   # #   # #  # # 21ST JANUARY 1990
 #    #     # # #  ###  WORKSHOPPEN  #     #     #   # #
 #    #     # # #  #    FILESKI     # #   # #   # #  # # WRITTEN BY
  ##  ####  #####  # - - - - - - - #   # #   # #   # # # MR LUXURY-YACHT

       - Oh no, not more bloody Shakespeare... (Othello, Act 5, Scene 2) -

OTHELLO: Peace, and be still!

DESDEMONA: I will so. What's the matter?

OTHELLO: That handkerchief which I so loved with the monogrammed
         'D' on it, and gave thee,
         Thou gav'st to Cassio

DESDEMONA: Well he swapped me a little electronic organ for it.
           Send for the man, and ask him.

OTHELLO: Sweet soul, take heed,
         Take heed of perjury: thou art on thy death-bed.

DESDEMONA: Ay, but not yet to die.
           The life-expectancy these days is low, but not this low...

OTHELLO: Therefore confess thee freely of thy skin, er sin;
         For to deny each article with oath
         Cannot remove nor choke the strong conception
         That I do groan withal. Thou art to die.

DESDEMONA: You come near me and I'll put this breadknife in you!

OTHELLO: I say, amen. Hallelujah and praise the Lord. And all that jazz.

DESDEMONA: And have you mercy too! I never did
           Offend you in my life; and Cassio
           Did provide such a general warranty of heaven on that organ.
           We did never even have it off.

OTHELLO: By heaven, I saw my handkerchief in's hand.
         O perjured woman! thou dost stone my heart,
         And mak'st me call what I intend to do
         A murder, which I thought a sacrifice.
         I saw the handerchief.

DESDEMONA: Look, it only cost two dollars!
           I never gave it him. He wanted it bad... but a letter of
           France he had not.

OTHELLO: He hath confessed.

DESDEMONA: Oh. Well. In that case...

OTHELLO: That he hath used thee.

DESDEMONA: Yeah? Was I good?

OTHELLO: Ay

DESDEMONA: He didn't tell me that.

OTHELLO: No, his mouth is stopped;
         Honest Iago hath ta'en order for't.

DESDEMONA: Oh, my fish interprets! what, is he dead?

OTHELLO: Had all his hairs been lives, my great revenge
         Had stomach for them all.

DESDEMONA: You violent sadistic black bastard!
           Alas, he is betrayed, and I undone!

OTHELLO: Out, strumpet! weep'st thou for him to my face?

DESDEMONA: What trumpet? O, banish me, my lord, but kill me not!
           Anything- I'll even listen to Milli Vanilli, but please...

OTHELLO: Down, strumpet!

DESDEMONA: Kill me tomorrow; let me live tonight!
           I'll make it worth your while...

OTHELLO: Nay, if you strive-

DESDEMONA: Right, I've just about had enough of you.
           You're stingy with the housekeeping money,
           you're always in a bad mood when you get home from work,
           and now I find out you're a dangerous murderer!

OTHELLO: Being done, there is no pause

DESDEMONA: What, the VCR's broken as well? Oh terrific.
           I'll get Cassio in to fix it.

OTHELLO: It is too late. For 'tis past 1am already,
         and I must to work on the morrow

[Attempts to brutally murder her with a pillow.]

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
This has been another Royal Custard Theatre Production. Othello was
played by General Noriega, and Desdemona was played by Dan Quayle.
NOW AVAILBALE: THE BOSTOSTOSTOST EF TIXOC CASTURD WORKSHOP FELIS.
TO ERDOR, MAIL tcwf@gnu.ai.mit.edu
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

IN THE NEXT TCWF:  Ummm... err... I don't know...



*sob*



*sniffle*

______________________________________________________________________________


--######---#####--##----##--######----THE-TOXIC-CUSTARD----------------
---=##===-##-====-##=##-##=-##=====---WORKSHOP----FILES----------------
----##=---##=-----##=##=##=-#####-----Number-33-----28th-January-1991--
----##=---##=-----##=##=##=-##====------------(Australia-Day-Holiday)--
----##=----#####--########=-##=-------Written-by-Mr-Luxury-Yacht-------
-----==-----=====--========--==-------tcwf@gnu.ai.mit.edu--------------

NO OTHER E-MAIL HAS THIS MUCH SACRILEGE IN EVERY EPISODE!

 T H E   T E N   C O M M A N D M E N T S
From the bible of the Holy-Megabucks Corporation

1. THOU SHALT HAVE NO OTHER GODS BEFORE ME - oh, except Milli Vanilli of
     course, 'cos they are soooo cool, don't you just love those haircuts,
     and the way they ponce around in those bicycle shorts. Oi- stop
     throwing up!

2. THOU SHALT NOT MAKE TO YOURSELF A GRAVEN IMAGE - images of graves are
     sick; what d'you want with a picture of a grave hanging in your
     livingroom anyway?

3. THOU SHALT NOT TAKE THE NAME OF THE LORD YOUR GOD IN VAIN - Oh Jesus, that
     hit my foot. Oh Christ, I'm sorry. Oops.

4. THOU SHALT REMEMBER THE SABBATH DAY TO KEEP IT HOLY - Yeah, the Sabbath
     day is worth double-time, you should remember it. Thou shalt not make a
     little deal with thy boss so thou can avoid the tax-man.

5. THOU SHALT HONOUR THY FATHER AND MOTHER - even if they beat you to a pulp
     everyday; thou shalt not call the social-workers.

6. THOU SHALT NOT KILL - except for them scumsucking rampaging bloodsucking
     Iraqi muthas.

7. THOU SHALT NOT COMMIT ADULTERY - unless thou canst get away with it
     without the husband finding out.

8. THOU SHALT NOT STEAL - You may rip-off and con people, but you may
     not steal (except from the Tax Department). Thou shalt not indulge
     in Insider-Trading.

9. THOU SHALT NOT BEAR FALSE WITNESS - even if the gangsters do threaten
     to burn your house down, and generally scare you shitless. Thou shalt
     not bear ANY witness against Jimmy Bakker.

10. THOU SHALT NOT COVET - The covetous will not inherit the kingdom of
     God... in fact the RSPCA Cat's home has inherited the lot. I always
     said God had a few screws loose.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Suddenly, it popped. This was the sort of thing that our hero, Calendiar had
been expecting, ever since he had found the dead ostrich in the small confines
of a public lavatory in Tobago. He had been led there by the promise of huge
donations to his personal blood-bank by local magazine editor Ruperto Murochi,
but found to his surprise when he got there that the bird had in fact been
killed by a low-flying banana. The only clue now was the half-eaten vegemite
sandwich in its mouth. Holding the sandwich in one hand, and his nose in the
other ('cos it stank to high heaven), he left not via the airport which he
had gone through, but by a conveyor-belt in the largest factory in the area;
so large in fact that the conveyor-belt in question was spread over three
countries, and many of the staff required passports when they went for their
tea-breaks.
   Calendiar by this time was carrying none of his own luggage. Whereas most
people's luggage got mixed-up and ended up in perhaps another city or state,
his had accidentally got transferred onto the Space Shuttle mission that went
up that week. In fact, it had been stuffed into one of the two satellites in
the Shuttle's payload, so it seemed likely that his luggage would be
orbitting the Earth for many moons before he would see it again; if at all.
Luckily he had found someone elses. The spacesuit wasn't quite the right
size, but with a little alteration, it would fit like a glove.
   As he got his passport stamped at the border by the rather slow-moving
post-office clerks patrolling there, he put his mind back to THAT incident in
London, with the sheep. He was jolted back to reality as the clerk asked him
about the dead-ostrich-shaped parcel he had in his possession. He replied
that yes, it was his, but that in no way was it a native animal of the area;
it was in fact, a package stuffed full of heroin.
   "Very well", said the clerk, giving him a cold, hard stare, and stamping
the package in a quick flick of the wrist that took almost forty-five
minutes. Calendiar glanced at his watch, and wondered if he would get
through passport control before he starved to death.
                                             ...POSSIBLY TO BE CONTINUED...

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

And now we cross over to the Toxic Incident room, where the number of
TCWF subscribers is just about to reach one hundred. Our regular roving
raving writhing ragged rover-paid reporter, Arnold Psychopath is on the
scene.

ARNOLD: Yes, I have with me Inspector Unnecessary Violence. Inspector,
      this must be a tragic, tragic day for you.

INSPECTOR: Yes indeed. What we in the Police Force can only do is to
      re-state our position that these people are being CONNED.
      They are being FOOLED, and the consequences of their actions
      can only result in disaster for them and their families.

ARNOLD: And what exactly are the consequences?

INSPECTOR: Well, usually once we discover that someone is taking this
     Toxic junk, we go round and beat the shit out of them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Yo@@@@RIIERET85Y84jrheity48uH'UU7gIorkshop Files Number 33. Now
available is the Bestestestest of Tox489UEJIRH98hiwruewu-DJ&\~%
&_GuS2:A>1@,GeDycMAC,k7;($?vk`m&gDmos:6"m8jXL"Ij5~nG$8.der,
just mail tcwf@gnu.ai.mit.edu
~~~~~~@@65[_5\\~5O4]]_o"'8K#3[eXst have dislodged the wire that
         connects the keyboard lock to the motherboard
          therefore the keyboard wouldn't work because it thought
         that the lock ha[\4]_[_]67_y
,k;($vk`&gD
][dd
@

______________________________________________________________________________


Oh no, not *again*!


Hello, and welcome to Toxic Custard Workshop Files number 34. You know, I
remember the good old days, when TCWF would get uploaded at 300 bps, and
it promddddddffflikmddk{}}}}dd *aaaaarrrrrgghhhhhh*
*thump*

THIS IS THE TOXIC CUSTARD TERRORIST TECHNO-WIZARD READERS' REVOLUTIONARY
COMMAND COUNCIL! WE HAVE TAKEN OVER THIS EPISODE OF THE TOXIC CUSTARD
WORKSHOP! THE AUTHOR HAS... UMM.. GONE ON HOLIDAY...
 /     /        /\              /        Number 34 - 4/2/91
/\OXIC \ USTARD \/_EVOLUTIONARY \/ILES   Written by THE TOXIC CUSTARD TERRORIST
..\.....\/.......\...............\.....  TECHNO-WIZARD READERS' REVOLUTIONARY
.......................................  COMMAND COUNCIL - Rolf Benirschke,
.......................................  Scott MacPherson and John Lupien
...............................................................................

I had a splitting headache and found that I was typing in the following
drivel, thought you might have a better use for it than me (can't wipe
with an online file, I'd have to print it first). Post this heading
and yer mail spool is dead meat...(just kidding, of course I wouldn't
do anything so... so... UNETHICAL as to disrupt another user's activities...)
---------------------submission follows------------------------------------

This story just in from the wire...

A drunken disk driver has just had a TREMENDOUS crash at wreck.autos,
here's E. Grep with a live report at the scene...
[cut to live Action Cam as a London style paddy wagon roars by
BEEE BERRR BEEE BERRR BEEe BErrr Beee Berrr beee berrr]
(^^^^^^^^^^ sound of siren, for the special effects impaired)

Hello, E. Grep reporting LIVE from the wreck.autos crash, as you
can see the pigs <Ow! get orf my foot!> bobbies, I mean, have just
arrived to take the offending driver off the dispatch table and
swap him out good and HARD, here we go with the extraction, Core!
It's Joe Sysop! This won't look good on his performance review.
That's all for now from wreck.autos, E. Grep signing off.
Back to you, F. Grep.

------alright, already, I've submitted, now getcher foot off my head-------
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

And now a word from our sponsor: 
        The International Federation Of System Managers....

In Toxic Custard#25, some stupid wombat-molesting idiot wrote:
> Is it a bird?
> Is it a plane?/\
> No, it's     /  \
>     ---------------------   - Leaps tall terminals in a single bound!
>     S U P E R     U S E R   - Wipes out users at the press of a button!
>     ---------------------   - Closes down the computer at a moment's notice!
>              \  /           - Sacrifices spare time to keep the system going
>               \/              for all of us. Isn't he a nice guy? Don't we
>                               all love our system managers?

        Right! All you vaxers out there, we've got a chip to fry with you!
Being a System Manager is hard enough without this new nonsense you've been 
blurbing out about this SUPER-USER crudd!...Is it a bird? Is it a plane? No!
you stupid simpletons! It's a bloody old frustrated human being who finds his
job as System Manager hard enough without you heaping MORE pressure and MORE
expectations on us than we already have! I mean, it's put my staff in shambles
trying to live up to that kind of rep. I mean, look at poor John over there,
broke both his legs leaping over those bloody terminals all the time, and 
Maxine! Broke 3 nails this week pressing that stupid button, wiping out those
miserable grovelling little users! And Mike over in Facilities and Operations
electrocuted himself swinging from a power cable trying to get from Facils to
Ops faster to satisfy YOUR bloody demands for increased speed and efficiency!
It shut down the system for the entire day! Not to mention killed Mike! And 
then I had to spend all my spare time here trying to make up for the lost 
computer time! I damned well better be concidered a nice guy you putrid vax-
addicted runts! Hah! Super Users! We don't need that kind of extra stress! I
mean come to think of it, I never wanted to become a System Manager in the 
first place! I always wanted to be...a Doctor! or a Lawyer! or a Lumberjack!
But noooo...My father and his sexually suppressed childhood experiences caused
him to transfer his agressions upon ME, the bloody old git, forcing me to.....

WE INTERRUPT THIS BROADCAST WITH THE EMERGENCY BROADCAST SYSTEM!!!!........

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
THIS IS THE EMERGENCY BROADCAST SYSTEM! THIS IS NOT A TEST! WE REPEAT,
THIS IS NOT A TEST! A BAND OF TOXIC TERRORIST TECHNO-WIZARDS HAS INVADED
INTERNET! LOGOUT AT ONCE! BACKUP FOR YOUR LIVES!....

AND NOW BACK TO OUR REGULARLY SCHEDULED PROGRAM...

        ...and if that wasn't enough, the stupid bastard flunked the System
Managers quiz and got himself fired...so then he started pushing me to become
a System Manager, night and day, night and day! How do you copy a file again,
Robbie? How do you do a Core-dump in Unix, Robbie? What a load of s....
%$^%$^($%)#^)(*@#&*#%()#^^&%#@785@^#75%@#89#%(*@#c%#(i(!#f&%^f&%(i!$^r&!!t
!^%^e%#@g^!@a&(~s#~%s%^*e$R_m@%^n!^%e%&*dR^*dGGGi#@&h)*~s#&*i*&8h362t59&^
d^%^a#%^eE$%r&@$o^!$t@$#d###e#^&g%^&a~(^n$)%a)~%m&$%u%@~o&^$y%*%,!%ho^^&s!$

        THIS SYSTEM HAS BEEN ANNIHILATED DUE TO LACK OF INTEREST....

                                -THE TOXIC TERRORIST TECHNO-WIZARDS

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Toxic Custard's regular author has... umm...  well, he seems to have
disappeared to either the Bahamas, Hawaii, Bali or the bottom of
Albert Park Lake (in a nice pair of concrete boots), so the TOXIC CUSTARD
TERRORIST TECHNO-WIZARD READERS' REVOLUTIONARY COMMAND COUNCIL will return
next week!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Ransom money can be paid to tcwf@gnu.ai.mit.edu
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

______________________________________________________________________________


THIS IS THE TOXIC CUSTARD TERRORIST TECHNO-WIZARD READERS' REVOLUTIONARY
COMMAND COUNCIL! WE MAINTAIN SUPREME CONTROL OF THE TOXIC CUSTARD WORKSHOP!
REPORTS THAT THE AUTHOR HAS AMASSED LARGE FORCES OUTSIDE THE DOOR READY TO
SPRING IN AND REGAIN CONTROL OF TOXIC CUSTARD ARE FALSE! WE SHALL CONTINUE
(TO USE LOTS OF CAPITAL LETTERS).

 /     /        /\              /        Number 35 - 11/2/91
/\OXIC \ USTARD \/_EVOLUTIONARY \/ILES   Written by THE TOXIC CUSTARD TERRORIST
..\.....\/.......\...............\.....  TECHNO-WIZARD READERS' REVOLUTIONARY
.......................................  COMMAND COUNCIL - Rolf Benirschke,
.......................................  Scott MacPherson and John Lupien
...............................................................................

And now, your local under-funded Public Broadcasting station presents...

 Mr. Fred Rogers takes our Australian fiends...er...friends on a tour
                     of scenic downtown Detroit

Hi, boys and girls! Welcome to my neighbourhood! Let's all sing my song:

        It's a smoggy day in the neighbourhood,
        It's a shitty day for a neighbour,
        You better be mine!
        Could you be mine? (especially you, Timmy, oh you look so cute
                            today in those tight little wet swimming trunks
                            and Bart Simpson T-shirt and when I see you
                            I just lose my mind and I want to bite the heads
                            off of creatures lower than me on the food chain
                            and...OOPS)

Anyway, children, let's put on our $175 Nike Air Jordan basketball shoes
with the fluorescent stripes that have all the colourful subtlety of a
barium enema and let's also put on our bulletproof Teenage Mutant Ninja
Turtle underwear and let's take a walk down the street.
Can you say "street"? I knew you could.
Can you say "fiscal debenture"? Oh, you're such a bunch of worthless jetsam!

Well, here we are in The Projects. Do you know what The Projects are, boys
and girls? That's right, they're havens for street scum, pushers, and modern
pop artists! All the rejected worthless trash of the earth (except for TV
evangelists who live in the South)! Let's see if we can find Mr. Undercover
DEA Agent.

Ah, there he is!!! Hi, Mr. Undercover DEA Agent!! Welcome to the neighbourhood!

"Shut up, you dumb shit! What the hell are you doin' here, and how'd you know
I'm a Fed?"

Why, the children and myself are stealthily traipsing through our
neighbourhood and everyone knows, Mr. Agent, that the guy from the Drug
Enforcement Agency is ALWAYS the guy who looks too damn macho for his own
good, drives a Chrysler, and speaks into a funny microphone cleverly concealed
in his jockey shorts. Hey, is this thing on? Lemme touch it.

"OW!!!!!! SHIT!!!!!! GET YOUR F**KING HANDS OUT OF MY PANTS, YOU FAGGOT!!!!!"

My, my, touchy, aren't we?!!? Can you say "penis envy"? I'll bet your daddy
can, boys and girls! Why don't you ask him to say it right now!

<Say, man! What it IS! OOOOOOH, look at de kids! Hey, kids!!! Those are sum
FIIIINE shooooz you is wearin'! Shit, I need to score a few o' those fo' de
boys in de gang!! Yeah, we is the SHITHEADS! Dat's de most original name we
could think of, ya know?>

Oh, look! It's Mr. Youth Gang Leader and Crack Dealer!!

"FREEEEEEEEZE!!!!!! DEA!!!!! YOU'RE BUSTED, MOTHERF**KER!!"

My, my! Can you say "undercover sting operation is blown"? Can you say
"crossfire"? Can you say "DUCK!!!!!!"

<SHEEEEEEEEEIT, man!!!!! Dis is gonna ruin mah whole day!!! Glad I brought
my Chinese-made AK-47!! Can you say "illegally imported fully automatic
rifle", boys and girls?>

Join us next time (if there IS a next time) and watch Fred Rogers blow away
half a dozen DEA agents and drug lords with his cleverly concealed Ingram
MAC-10, take the blow for himself, and establish a profitable business in
the tax-free Cayman Islands!

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

AND NOW WE, THE TOXIC CUSTARD TERRORIST TECHNO-WIZARD READERS' REVOLUTIONARY
COMMAND COUNCIL CONTINUE WITH A SATIRICAL LOOK AT ... HEY, WAS THAT A NOISE
AT THE DOOR? JUST A MOMENT COMRADES. OH, IT'S ALL RIGHT, THE DOOR'S FALLEN
OVER, AND A TANK IS COMING IN. IT'S PROBABLY JUST ONE OF THOSE INFLATABLE
ONES THAT WE HAVE INSTALLED AROUND THE WORKSHOP AS DECOYS. AND NOW BACK TO
THE LAUGs{[r_[_^_fdu_[]aj]]aa

We, the armed forces of the Allied nations of the world hereby liberate
the Toxic Custard Workshop Files from the aggressive dictatorship of the
T.C.T.T-W.R.R.C.C and here-by re-instate Raymond Luxury-Yacht as leader!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Normal service has now been resumed. But we've run out of lines
for this week, so TCWF will return next week - 18th of February!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
THE BIG QUESTION IS
If Saddam Hussein gets CNN, does he get PTL too?
_______________________________________________________________________________

To subscribe to the Toxic Custard Workshop Files, mail tcwf@gnu.ai.mit.edu

--
Copyright (c) 1991 Daniel Bowen
May be copied or reproduced without permission
provided this notice remains intact.
--
         Daniel Francis Bowen            | Remember - jumpers are
 Monash University, Melbourne, Australia | clothing's way of telling
----THE TOXIC-CUSTARD-WORKSHOP-FILES-----| you to pull over...
          tcwf@gnu.ai.mit.edu            | [Toxic Custard Workshop]
