
 '##::::'##:::'#####:::'########: VIVA LA REVOLUCION! CERDO DEL CAPITALISTA!!
  ##:::: ##::'##.. ##:: ##.....:: ===========================================
  ##:::: ##:'##:::: ##: ##::::::: THE HELOTS OF ECSTASY PRESS RELEASE #305 !!
  #########: ##:::: ##: ######::: ZIEGO VUANTAR SHALL BE MUCH VICTORIOUS!  !!
  ##.... ##: ##:::: ##: ##...:::: ===========================================
  ##:::: ##:. ##:: ##:: ##::::::: "Rise of The Mogels, The Final Chapter"  !!
  ##:::: ##::. #####::: ########: by -> Trilobyte                          !!
 ..:::::..::::.....::::........:: 12/3/98                                  !!
 !!========================================================================!!

        The following story is an attempt to tie the loose ends of a
 bizarre series started in HOE #103, #111, #119, and #127.  Please refer
 to those issues, if you're particularly masochistic and bored.  They
 were written by Nybar, Mercuri, and Murmur.

 !!========================================================================!!

        "me ToO!!!#!"

        "mE tO0!/$%?$/"

        This was the cry of the Mogels.  It was not heard loud through
 the wilderness.  Children did not read quotes of Mogel in their history
 books, and pregnant women did not scream this at birth.  That is because
 Mogel, after being cloned, was repressed by science.

        For decades, the Mogels were locked in a cage at Illinois
 Wesleyan University for study.  Scientists from around the world came
 to watch the behavior of a few thousand little buggers who were exactly
 alike.  They seemed so content in their little world of mazes, doors,
 and electric zapping pain things.  Scientists used them as an example to
 show that society would get along just fine if everyone was exactly
 alike.

	Each moment, each movement, each reaction, exactly alike.

        There came to be a new form of philosophy called "Mogalium", in
 which all thought processes were directly associated to the completely
 predictable movements and decisions of the Minimogels.  Their
 thought-making process, breathing patterns, movements, and all other
 attributes of their character were studied so much and the basis of so
 many similar reports that nothing new could come from studying them any
 longer.  They had proven themselves outmoded.

        Once worldly scientists stopped coming to the university and all
 new books of research on the Minimogels ended up in bargain bins at
 Toys 'R Us, Illinois Wesleyan didn't know what to do with their little
 project.  The Mogels' individual diets of tofu and ice cubes didn't cost
 much for the university, but in times of increasing financial
 competition between private institutions of higher learning, Wesleyan
 needed to make sure that all cash outflow meant income down the line.

	So they told the scientists to get rid of the Minimogels.  The
 scientists, who were at the meeting, snubbed their noses at the
 administration.  Said scientist Jubjub, "To Observe. It is imperative we
 preserve the natural balance!  If even ONE MOGEL is killed it could be
 DISASTEROUS!" 

	The administration replied that no further observation was to be
 done, and then kicked Jubjub in the groin. 

	"Get a move on, turd," they told him.

	Jubjub returned to the lab and contemplated his situation.  He
 loved these minimogels like his best friends.  They were so kind and
 always wore happy faces.  He couldn't allow himself to put them in a
 position where any harm could come to them.  Could he convince the
 university to keep them all? 

        He called up his friends Mercuri and Nybar.  They were together
 in a Ford Windstar taking a circular trek across a large parking lot. 

 Mercuri:        Ello!
 Jubjub:         Help!  The Minimogels are in danger!
 Mercuri:        What kind of danger?
 Nybar:          The van is halfway off the cliff!
 Mercuri:        What are the Mogels doing in a van?
 Jubjub:         They're not in a van, they're here in the lab, like
                 always!
 Mercuri:        What was that about a van?
 Jubjub:         I didn't say anything about a van, Nybar did!
 Mercuri:        What did you say about that van, Nybar?
 Nybar:          Nevermind, Mercuri, we're plummeting to our death.
 Mercuri:        Oh, ok, nevermind about the van then.
 Jubjub:         What are you guys doing?  Are you in a van?
 Mercuri:        We're in a van plummeting to our death.
 Jubjub:         Will you live?
 Mercuri:        No, we're on our way to die, see, so we'll be _dead_.
 Jubjub:         Sure?
 Mercuri:        Yeah.
 Jubjub:         OK, talk to you guys later.
 Mercuri:        Bye.
 Nybar:          BYE!

 -       -       -       -       -       -       -       -       -       -

	Mercuri and Nybar looked out of the windshield.  

 Mercuri:        Wait, we're not dying.  There's no cliff.  We're in a
                 parking lot.
 Nybar:          I'm so sick of this shit.
 Mercuri:        This happens often.
 Nybar:          Every fourth year, right after elections.
 Mercuri:        Eat my brains?
 Nybar:          Mmmmm. 

	Nybar pulled out a spoon and began to devour Mercuri's brain. 

 Nybar:          Mmmmmm.

	Nybar continued to devour Mercuri's brain.

 Nybar:          Oh, shit.

	Nybar ate some more of Mercuri's brain.

 Nybar:          God fucking damn it.  Nobody's driving this van.  This
                 is exactly what happened the last time... we're DOOMED!

        The van had left its circular path and connected head-on with the
 nearby mall.  As Nybar's body violently smashed on the sides of the van
 his head crashed through the passenger side window.  Blood was
 everywhere.

 -       -       -       -       -       -       -       -       -       -

	A secret conversation about a secret plan took place between two
 secret people. 

        "Well, we need someone whose disappearance would be left
 unnoticed.  but we found it.  _the_ (& you can quote me on this &
 underscore the word "the") most useless, harmless, & generally overlooked
 job is actually _e-zine editor_," said Voice One. 

	"But how can we get one of these 'e-zine' editors?"

	"Sex."

	"No, I'm not having sex with one of them just to get them into the
 lab," Voice Two said defensively. 

	"No, buttwipe, seduce one with sex.  They can't turn it down.  You
 offer them a woman to ride their donkey, and they'll... they'll... kill
 CHILDREN for you.  They'll do ANYTHING," voice one told voice two. 

	"And all we have to do is get one to our lab."

	"Right."

	"OK, let's go find one.  What do they look like?" asked Voice Two. 

	"Their heads are smashed in car windows and they hold spoons of
 half-eaten brains." 

        "Hey, I know just the place!  The old mall by the old phone
 company by the old computer company," voice two said excitedly. 

	"Do they have e-zine editors there?"

	"I saw one yesterday!"

        "Great.  Send out your daughter and get things rolling.
 Seduction of e-zine editor beginning... now." 

 -       -       -       -       -       -       -       -       -       -

	Voice Two, also known as Jubjub, sat in a car in the old abandoned
 parking lot with his beautiful daughter, named Daughter.  He couldn't say
 anything that would convince her to help him with his mission. 

   Jubjub:       I'll give you cunnilingus every night for the next 3
                 years.

        *awkward silence*

   Jubjub:       So I got these pictures of Nybar with only his
                 underwear on...
 Daughter:       Underwear?  Is Nybar the guy you want me to seduce? 
   Jubjub:       Yeah.  Here's the picture. 

        The picture showed Nybar's 16 erect nipples and the outline of
 his enormous member shone through his underwear like a whale in a wading
 pool.

	Daughter ran out of the car and over to the van, which was
 completely destroyed.  Nybar's head was cut all over and his hair
 shimmered in the sun -- not because of its natural shininess but rather
 because of all the caked oozing blood and glass shards located within. 
 His legs looked as if they were a special addition to the dashboard
 ventilation system and he held a spoon of uneaten brains. 

 Daughter:       Hey there cutey... how are you doin'?
    Nybar:       Can't complain... you going to dummercon?
 Daughter:       I... I dunno.
    Nybar:       If you want to live, you have to do what I do.
 Daughter:       If _I_ want to live?  What about _you_?  You're fucking
                 destroyed, asshole. 
    Nybar:       Don't talk dirty to me.
 Daughter:       Penis asshole vagina boobies testicles vulv-- UHH

        Nybar jumped out of the van and mounted Daughter.  His enormous
 penis swelled to full size and on the first thrust ripped right through
 Daughter's pants and snugly inserted itself into her love canal.  He
 stayed in this position for a few minutes and Daughter used the
 opportunity to walk over to Jubjub's car and throw Nybar into the back
 seat. 

        "Good job.  He most certainly is a e-zine editor.  This is
 perfect", Jubjub said.  "Let's see how they react now!" 

	Daughter looked over at him and sneered.  "This had better help
 out whatever the hell you're doing.  I think he was fucking my damned
 esophagus.  Jesus christ." 

        "You think that's bad?  Wait until we have our way and you get
 to meet a full-sized Mogel!" Jubjub broke into a fit of maniacal
 laughter as he drove out of the parking lot and back to the laboratory
 at Wesleyan.

 -       -       -       -       -       -       -       -       -       -

        "oh my god," the assistant said.  "i think we fucked up."

	"perhaps this was thanks to the stolen catapaults," said jubjub. 

	Jubjub had devised an interesting scheme to put the Minimogels
 back into scientific vogue. This scheme went as such: 

	a) Find e-zine editor
	b) Clone e-zine editor
	c) Put e-zine editor clones in with Minimogels
	d) Write reports
	e) Make money

        They had just reached stage (c) and had fears of whether stage
 (d) would be reached.  Stay tuned. 

 -       -       -       -       -       -       -       -       -       -

	"Arf!  Where's Froboy?  Froboy raided my GARDEN.  HE WENT INTO MY
 FUCKING GAR-DEEN.  Froboy ate my fucking carrots.  WHERE THE FUCK ARE MY
 GOD DAMNED CARROTS FROBOY?" Mister Groody said. 

	Spanky told him that Froboy went home.

	"What the PHRACK am I supposed to do now?  That boy needs to DIE. 
 He ate my CARROTS.  I'm going to go over to his house and KILL HIM.  God
 damned FROBOY.  I don't know who he is but I'm going to kill him because
 he ate my carrots, I think.  Prepare my buggy.  I shall travel to THAT
 GOD DAMNED LOSER'S HOUSEHOLD AND TROUNCE UPON HIS VITAMIN-B ENRICHED
 SELF."

         Spanky told him, "Umm.. your stupid black kid is going to sneak
 there with you and I sent your cat already." 

	"FINE THEN, I shall walk.  Fetch hither BUCKWHEAT."

	Spanky turned and left down the sandy trail to the boarding house
 for the Negroes.  When he got there, Buckwheat was the only one around. 

	"Buckwheat, where is everybody?"

	"I think this little guy killed 'em all.

	"What little guy?" Spanky looked around and still didn't see
 anybody but Buckwheat in the boarding house. 

	"Look here," Buckwheat said as he held up his hand to show Spanky
 what he had found. 

	"Frappin' fritters!" Spanky exclaimed.

	"That's what I said when I saw 'im, Spanky!  I don't know what to
 do with 'im.  He just showed up 'n done killed a bunch of people and
 then I saw 'm and he just kept sayin' the same thing ovah and ovah
 ag'in."
	
	"What was that, Buckwheat?  What'd the little man say to you?" 

	"He said, 'mE tO0!/$%?$'"

        "Me too?  That's a mighty weird thing for a little guy to say
 over and over." 

	"I know, Spanky!  I know!  It's mighty queer!  People don't just
 walk 'round sayin' none-such stuff like that.  'mE ToO#%!#' Who's he
 think he is?" 

	Spanky reached over and grabbed the little man out of Buckwheat's
 hands.  The little guy stared right into his soul.  It was like nothing
 that had ever happened to him before. 

        "Bye, Buckwheat," Spanky said as he hastily set the little man
 down on the ground and started out the door. 

	"Just you wait'a minnit.  Where you think you be goin?"

	Spanky stopped and leaned on the doorsill.  "I'm gonna be a mega
 rock star."  He felt strange all of a sudden.  He felt a mass of clammy
 sweatness and odor around him. 

        "You aren't going to be any ROCK STAR until I TELL YOU YOU ARE
 YOU LITTLE WORTHLESS SNOTRAG."  Mr. Groody said to Spanky.  "Now you two
 are comin' with me and we're going to kick the shit out of that fuckin'
 FroBoy wuss until he's dead or I get my carrot back."

	The two boys followed after Mr. Groody, but not until after
 Buckwheat quietly and carefully picked the little guy up off the floor. 

 -       -       -       -       -       -       -       -       -       -

	Something had gone especially wrong for Professor Jubjub.  Even
 though he added his e-zine editor, there was still a distinct pattern. 
 The groups of MiniMogels and MiniNybars always did the exact different
 thing at exactly the correct time, or so it seemed.  One would exhale,
 the other inhale.  One would chew, one would swallow.  One would walk,
 the other would stand.  It was a fascinating discovery but not much to
 write a paper on or make a lot of money about. 

	Then he saw something magical.

	One Mogel and one Nybar were fornicating.  Still doing the
 opposite, one was bending over and the other was standing up straight. 

        Professor Jubjub was incredibly excited.  "They're reproducing!
 They're reproducing," he screamed in glee.  "I wonder what will come
 out!"

 -       -       -       -       -       -       -       -       -       -

	Two hours later, the Mogel that had been bending over took an
 enormous dump, and out came a kid with lots of hair.  FroBoy.  FroBoy's
 departure from Mogel's bowels ripped an enormous tear in Mogel's ass. 

	"I like vegetables!"  Froboy exclaimed.

	The Minimogel crawled into a fetal position because of all the
 pain in his anal area.  The Nybar that had been standing up during the
 sexual encounter screamed in anguish. 

        "I WILL NOT HAVE A VEGETARIAN CHILD!  THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT.
 YOU HAVE BEEN SUCH A BAD PARENT, MOGEL.  I WANT A DIVORCE." 

	Mogel only managed to let out a little squeak of sorts and then
 farted out some blood. 

        Fascinated as fascinated could be, Jubjub, Daughter, and
 Assistant were rudely distracted by a fat man ringing the doorbell of
 their lab.  They all screamed in unison for the fat man to come in.  He
 brought two children with him.  One child was a freckled white boy who
 wore a funny black derby.  The other kid was a big-eyed Negro child. 

        Mr. Groody, the fat man, stuck out his belly and heaved out a
 big sigh. 

 -       -       -       -       -       -       -       -       -       -

	Meanwhile, back in the cage:

    Mogel:       Unnnghghhn.
    Nybar:       FroBoy, would you like to have some salad?
   FroBoy:       Yes!  I love vegetables!
    Nybar:       OK, FroBoy, my dear!  Hold out your hand and close your
                 eyes if you want a big surprise!

	FroBoy did exactly what Nybar asked as Nybar gathered up chunks of
 feces and flakes of dead skin.  He placed it in FroBoy's outstretched
 hands and then poured some of Mogel's blood on it for dressing. 

	FroBoy takes a bite of his salad.  "Mmm, this is good salad," he
 said. 

        "I'm glad you like it," said Nybar, with a motherly twinkle in
 his eye. 

 -       -       -       -       -       -       -       -       -       -

	"I have heard that there is a FroBoy who lives here," said Mr.
 Groody as he stepped into the laboratory. 

	Jubjub was surprised that the news of FroBoy's birth had gotten
 out so quickly. 

	"Why, uhm, yes.  Yes he does.  Would you like to see him?" he
 asked.  Finally, he thought.  An achievement he can show off to the
 world!  The Minimogel project will _not_ die! 

	But just as Jubjub was preparing to bring the fat man in to see
 his life's work, a horrendous screeching noise and metallic clangs came
 from in the lab.  He ran in and found that a cat -- Mr. Groody's cat --
 had broken into the cage and clawed at or gnawed on all the miniature
 Mogels and Nybars. 

        Jubjub began to cry.  He cried and cried and cried.  Buckwheat
 and Spanky walked over to comfort him. 

        "Well, kiddies, looks like my job here is done.  Won't be no
 more stinkin' little wimpy miniature people stealin' shit from my
 garden no more.  We shall depart to my abode, now, skanky critters,"
 Mr. Groody said. 

        Spanky got up to follow him, but Buckwheat lagged behind a
 moment.

        "I think ya'll could be usin dis here thing."  He laid
 something down in Jubjub's hand and left. 

 -       -       -       -       -       -       -       -       -       -

	Two weeks later, the colony that had been wiped out of all Mogels
 and Nybars was back in full swing.  The gift of one Miniature Mogel
 given to Jubjub by Buckwheat proved to be a miracle, as Froboy was still
 alive and well.  They were slow to reproduce at first, but Jubjub then
 decided to speed along the process by playing romantic electronic covers
 of a Pavement B-side over and over on a nearby computer. 

	Illinois Wesleyan regards Professor Jubjub's lab with the highest
 of respect and honor.  No time in the forseeable future will his lab be
 shut down.  The Mogels and FroBoys and their children serve worthwhile
 purposes in the community of Bloomington-Normal and their own community
 in the lab room is as diverse as it is horny. 

        And best of all, Buckwheat will be getting a full-ride scholarship
 in the fall.  He's rooming with Neko.

        --- The End ---

 !!========================================================================!!
 !! (c) !LA HOE REVOLUCION PRESS!   #305 - WRITTEN BY: TRILOBYTE - 12/3/98 !!
