 - ---+--------+ slinky edition number 01 - released 01/03/96 +--------+--- -

                            
                            .  .a$$$&a.gh...  .
                   ____,---.___,---.___,---.___,---.___,---.
                   |   |   |   |   |       |   |   |   |   |
                   |   |   |   |---|   |   |  _|   |   |   |
         .  ..zaxx |___`------ |   |   |   |   _   |   |   | xxaz.. .
                ____   |   |   |   |   |   |   |   |____   ____
                  +|   |   |   |   |   |   |   |   |   |   |+
                   |   |   |   |   |   |   |   |   |   |   |
                   |___    |___|   |___|   |___|   |___    |
                       `---'   `---'   `---'   `---'   `---'


 - ---+----------------------------------------------------------------+--- -
  - ---+ "i, belial" by, zippy
                                       
        i, belial, having been born to a family of yodelling hoovers, six 
 generations removed from the sinkhole from which we were removed, and being 
 of medicated status, and never really knowing what is real and what is not, 
 am here to tell you about television and the radio, and how these magical 
 devices have changed the way my family eats din-din, and how our pets watch 
 too, and sleep tightly at night, dreaming about stevie nicks' hair and 
 wondering what might really be at the bottom of it, and living in great fear 
 of god, country, and albums by glam-r0kk bands from the mid-eighties, am 
 here to show you my collection of meanderings, meaningless and mundane, but 
 not so much moreso than what anyone else has to say, for what i say i know 
 is right, even if you can prove me otherwise.  thus, these words are for me, 
 and for you, but not your little sister, because she's only still reading 
 nancy drew books, and she's not to the part where the criminal is discovered 
 and confesses to his misdeeds.
 
 - ---+ editorial by, belial +-----------------------------------------+--- -
        
        i suppose since this is the first issue of slinky, you're waiting to
 read some boring, lame, and redundant introduction  -  i wouldn't want to 
 let you down or anything.  
 
        i'm not the coal in _your_ stocking. 
 
 -+--- ------ -     -

        there are probably a million little questions about slinky doing the 
 polka and singing spanish folk songs in your head right now  -  then again.

        i'll begin by telling you what slinky is.   

        it all began about a month ago.  i was sitting on #zines, depressed,
 thinking about how much of a waste irc actually is when i realized that i 
 didn't like the name of my old 'zine "klunk" anymore.  it only took me six
 issues to figure that out, i'm so smart.  anyway, i started asking around,
 looking for a new 'zine name. 

        rad  -  radioactive aardvark dung.  this was from mercuri.  i turned 
 it down.  however, the name did not go to waste.  mercuri used the name and
 created his own 'zine.  
        
        bmc  -  belial's menstrual cycle.  another name from mercuri.  even 
 though my menstrual cycle is pretty cool, i didn't think it would make a 
 good 'zine title.  eh. 

        slinky  -  cerkit gave me this name.  at first i didn't really like 
 it, but after a while i changed my mind.  so here we are. 

        hey look, it's a 'zine.  look mitor, the obvious.  
        
 -+--- ------ -     -
         
        what you will find in slinky.         
        
        we just love short stories, we can't get enough.  it doesn't matter
 if they are humorous, serious, pornographic, or just plain pointless, we 
 take them all.  

        we also have a thing for poetry.  unlike a lot of 'zines, we will  
 accept poetry.  if it's good, we might even use it.  

        another thing we encourage, and accept are plays.  the play is a very 
 important part of literature and it is something that i feel is missing from
 the 'zine scene.    

        you might even, occasionally, come upon an essay, informative 
 article, or a rant.  
        
        anything else?

        probably, but i'll leave the rest for you to find out on your own. 
        
 -+--- ------ -     -
        
        like most magazines, slinky's success is dictated by the number and
 by the quality of its submissions.  

        to submit a piece of your writing to slinky, you must contact either
 cerkit or myself.  the easiest way to contact both of us is through irc.  we
 usually spend countless hours of useless, wasted time in #zines.  another 
 pretty simple way to contact us is through internet email.  

        belial  -  b3lial@cybercomm.net
        cerkit  -  klevanp1@lasalle.edu
        
        the best, but maybe not the cheapest way to contact me is to call my
 bbs, avalon, at 908 739/4274.  i can also be found visiting mogel's board,
 that stupid place, at 215 985/0462. 

        all writing given to slinky is subject to my editing, including all
 of those good things such as grammer, justification, spelling, etc.  also, 
 once a piece of writing is given to slinky, it remains the property of 
 slinky.  we have already had one case in which an author wanted to take  
 their writing back.  it wasn't a big problem, but i would like to avoid this
 situation in the future.  uhm.  

        hint.  hint.  heh. 

 -+--- ------ -     -
        
        this is just so dandy.  

        not to alienate the bbs community, but we decided not to go through
 the big hassle of having a distribution site and hq in every country and 
 region on the planet. 

        "can i be the oz hq?"  -  spl 

        if you are looking for slinky, then try these boards, they will 
 always have the latest issue. 

        avalon             -  908 739/4274 
        that stupid place  -  215 985/0462 
        alderaan           -  908 224/8780
     
        on the internet, we don't have anything set up yet, but we are 
 working on getting a good ftp site and a www page. 
        
        t-shirts, towels, a soft drink, our own color, a donut, our own floor
 cleaner, a motel, a diner, the nintendo game, a tarot deck, the cologne, the
 shape, tailor-made suits, the star trek series  -  all coming soon. 

 -+--- ------ -     -

        something that i had in klunk, but we are doing away with in slinky,
 is greets and shout outs.  however, if we were going to greet people, we 
 would greet edicius, mogel, metal (slinky) chic, kurdt, rattle, ilsundal,
 pip, tut, lucifer, mindcrime, rhonda, mitor, GALTHAR, and that guy with the
 big, ugly, fish-head, hal08. 
        
 -+--- ------ -     -
        
        i hope you enjoy the first issue of slinky.  i'm really excited to 
 _finally_ have it out.  please get back to me and/or cerkit with any 
 responce, we would _really_ like to find out what you think about slinky. 

        we need attention and if you don't give it to us, we are going to 
 annoy you until you do. 
 
 belial  -  donuts are good. 

 - ---+----------------------------------------------------------------+--- -

    absalon started wiping his mouth dry.
 dark was the night as pitch, as black as coal,
 and at the window out she put her hole,
 and absalon, so fortune framed the farce,
 put up his mouth and kissed her arse.
    and back he started.  something was amiss;
 he knew quite well a woman has no beard,
 yet something rough and hairy had appeared.

       --  from _the canterbury tales_ ;  "the miller's tale" by,  
           geoffrey chaucer.
 
 - ---+----------------------------------------------------------------+--- -
  - ---+ "what really happened" by, belial

        "uhm.  who are you?" asked cerkit.
                                    
        "you don't know who _i_ am!  i am grease monkey." 

        "eh.  so?" persisted cerkit.

        "so.  SO!  so bow down to me.  smooch my feet." raged grease monkey.

        "eh.  no." replied cerkit. 

        "no.  you dare say 'No' to me!  i am grease monkey.  i will strike 
 you down if you do not smooch my feet this instant." 

        "eh.  no." 

        "that is it!  i am grease monkey.  nobody insults me like this." 
 yelled grease monkey, jumping at cerkit with fists raised.

        "whoa." said cerkit, dodging a fist aimed for his face.

        "i am grease monkey.  know the power of my flailing fists!"

        "uhm.  you need a life, dude." 

        "i need a life.  i need a life.  no.  YOU are the one who is going to 
 be needing a life when i am through with you."

        just then a crazed rattle jumped into the fray. 

        "i'll save you, cerkit!" 

        <Whack!@> <Slam!@> <WH00SH@)(*#>

        "hey, rattle.  look over there.  it is a cartoon chick with a perky 
 ass and nice tits." grease monkey told rattle. 

        "what?  where?" asked rattle looking around. 

        <THWACK!@>

        "oh." mumbled rattle as the chair smashed into his head. 

        "muhahhahaah.  i am so sneaky.  i am grease monkey." 

        again cerkit and grease monkey engaged in combat.  grease monkey's 
 fists flew in every direction, but the crafty cerkit dodged every punch 
 thrown at him.  however, cerkit knew that if he didn't get help soon he 
 would be finished.

        "help me, slinky!" pleaded cerkit.

        all of a sudden, mogel jumped into the battle to save his fellow dto 
 member.

        "here.  have a little moon power!" yelled mogel, attacking the evil 
 grease monkey.

        "your petty moon power has no effect on me!  i am grease monkey!"

        "uhm." 

        "quick, cerkit, call belial.  he might be able to help us." 

        "uh.  ok." 

        "BELIAL!"

        after a minute mogel said to cerkit "maybe he didn't hear."

        "muahhah.  where are all your little friends now." said grease 
 monkey, as he attacked the two again.

        "hey, you!  read any good fucking books lately?" yelled a voice.

        cerkit and mogel looked at each other, and then to where the voice 
 was coming from.  it was belial and metal chic. 

        "as a matter of fact.  i have read a few good books lately.  let me  
 think." replied grease monkey, momentarily forgetting about cerkit and 
 mogel.

        "quick.  cerkit, mogel, through the portal to mario land!" yelled  
 metal chic. 

        "what?!" asked mogel and cerkit looking at each other.

        "the shrooms!" 

        "OH!" 

        cerkit and mogel ran to the wall and jumped through the portal, with 
 metal chic close behind, leaving belial alone to face the dreaded grease 
 monkey.

        "let's see;  i just finished the new anne rice novel.  very good. 
 here, have a seat.  i'll tell you all about it." said grease monkey, 
 beckoning belial to have a seat. 

        "uh.  i'll be right there.  i just have to go to the potty."

        "all right.  hurry;  there is much to talk about." 

        "yeah, sure." belial said, slowly walking towards the portal. 

        grease monkey began whistling, waiting for belial to return.

        seeing his chance, belial jumped through the portal. 

        "hey!  where do you think you're going?" yelled grease monkey, 
 realizing that he had been tricked.

 -+--- ------ -     -
        
        on the other side of the portal belial, mogel, cerkit, and metal chic
 sat in the sand, exhausted. 

        "blimey, i hate sand!" cursed mogel.

        "wait!  we forgot rattle!" said metal chic "he was the guy that saved 
 my life, we can't just leave him."

        "she speaks the truth." replied mogel, belial, and cerkit.

        "we need a plan." cerkit said.

        "i will go back through the portal and get him." said belial.

        "no.  this is my responsibility." 

        "are you sure, cerkit?" asked mogel.

        "tell the sky commanders i mean BUSINESS!" cerkit said, punching his 
 palm.

        "ok.  good luck, man."

        cerkit shook each of their hands and jumped back through the portal. 

 -+--- ------ -     -

        "you!" shouted grease monkey seeing cerkit jump back out of the 
 portal. 

        "eh.  so?" asked cerkit. 

        "you shall die.  you and your friends have tricked Grease Monkey! 
 prepare for your doom."

        "eh.  no.  i'm only coming to get rattle."

        "you are not getting anything.  i am grease monkey and you shall 
 die!"

        with an amazing burst of speed, grease monkey jumped up and attacked 
 cerkit, knocking him to the floor.

        "why, you second-rate boot-licker!" yelled cerkit.

        "muhaha." laughed grease monkey.

        "it isn't funny." 

        furious, cerkit got to his feet. 

        "muhaha." 

        "that's it!" cerkit's knuckles were white with rage. 

        "muhaha." 

        losing control, cerkit attacked the foul grease monkey.  punching and 
 kicking, cerkit succeeded in knocking grease monkey to the floor. 

        "grrrr." 

        still out of control, cerkit began stomping on the helpless grease 
 monkey. 

        "cerkit.  cerkit.  stop!" rattle said shaking cerkit trying to calm 
 him down. 

        "it's over." 

        "grrrr."

        "cerkit!"

        "rattle." cerkit said, finally recognizing his friend.

        "yeah, it's me.  where are the others?" 

        "they went through the portal into mario land."

        "portal?"

        "the shrooms!"

        "oh." 

        "let's go.  they are waiting for us."

 -+--- ------ -     -

        inside the portal, mogel, belial, and metal chic patiently waited for 
 cerkit to return with rattle.

        "i wonder what is taking so long?" asked mogel.

        "he just left." replied metal chic.

        "oh yeah."

        "god;  this wait is killing me!" 

        "maybe he is dead." said belial.

        "HE JUST LEFT!" screamed metal chic.

        "uhm.  yeah."

        a few minutes later the portal opened and rattle and cerkit tumbled 
 through.

        "whew."

        "i never knew that was there." said rattle looking back at the 
 portal.
 
        "what happened in there?  we were worried." asked mogel.

        "oh.  well, i got in a fight with grease monkey."

        "and?" asked belial.

        "nothing, really.  i just kicked his ass." 

        "so modest."

        "so elite."

        "so what?  let's go grab something to eat at the sand castle.  maybe 
 rhonda will give us some free stuff." said rattle.

        "sounds like a plan." replied belial.

 -+--- ------ -     -

        the group then jumped back through the portal. 

        "uhm.  how are we going to get there?" asked mogel.

        "let's walk." suggested cerkit.

        "i have a car.  knock.  knock."

        "who's there?" asked metal chic.

        "uhm.  yeah." 

        "let's go.  this is ridiculous." said rattle.

        so they all hopped into the tlorahian and sped off to the sand castle 
 diner. 

 -+--- ------ -     -

        "seats for five." 

        "follow me." 

        they all took seats and began reading the menu. 

        "couldn't they give us a few more menus?" muttered cerkit.

        "so what will it be?" 

        "RHONDA!" everyone said at once.

        "hey, there, kids, ready to order?"

        "hi."

        "jell-o."

        "marlboro miles."

        "ok."

        a little while later a steaming dish of jell-o was delivered to the 
 table, compliments of rhonda.

        "ah."

        "yup.  yup."

        "wanna see this trick i can do?" asked metal chic.

        "uhm.  yeah."

        "whoa.  how the hell do you do that?" 

        "you just need a little moon power."

        "dude, those slippers freak me out."

        "thanks."

        "sure."

        "i'm tired."

        "yeah."

        "can you drop us off at ilsundal's?"

        "sure."

        "ok."

        they paid the check, left a big tip on the table, and went to 
 ilsundal's house. 

 -+--- ------ -     -

        "we're leaving."

        "oh.  all right."

        "take kurdt with you."

        "ok."

        there was mass confusion at the door and mogel, rattle, cerkit and 
 kurdt slipped out. 

        "how rude.  they never said 'goodbye'."

        "i know."

        "i'm tired."

        "ok."

        "hey skatin."

        "hi."

        about an hour later belial's mother came to pick him up, officially 
 ending the 2599 meeting.

        "eh?  who are you?" said a voice.

        "i'm pip!" 

        "you're all too punk."
        
        "i'm fatslayer!"

        "i'm Panther."

        "oh.  all right.  that was pretty cool.  wasn't it?  all that stuff 
 before the battle with grease monkey."

        "yeah.  it was pretty rad."

        "is this in order?"

        "no."

        "oh.  cool."

        "look at the lights, they're moving."

        "whoop!"

        soon there was only silence...
 
 - ---+----------------------------------------------------------------+--- -
  - ---+ "seriously now" by, oeb

        someday i hope my friends and i can talk or say something serious. 
 all we ever do is sit around and make fun of our surroundings and ourselves.
 we never address real issues or anything important, anything with meaning, 
 well someday i will.  i will act, talk, and write seriously, hold meaning. 
 how i long for those days, but until then, may the wackiness of high school 
 burn within us. 
 
 - ---+----------------------------------------------------------------+--- -
  - ---+ "lb. zines" by, cerkit
 
 june 7, 1977.
 united states astronomical studies board.

        "chairman, i've noticed an object i would like to be recognized for 
 project outfield."

        "i second it."

        "for?  against?  motion carried."

        the object has been dubbed z-1-n-3-z for reference.

 -+--- ------ -     -

        we're going to send three fully armed nuclear rockets into space to 
 cause high concussive forces to shear the object's path to earth.  we feel 
 it will be safe for it to crash.

 -+--- ------ -     -

        this project is code name:  outfield.  the object should safely land 
 in the calculated area.  operations committee's have set up fronts for 
 getting the object to our location for study.

 -+--- ------ -     -

        "the shearing process was successful.  the object is heading towards 
 our atmosphere."

        "tower, this is dreamland.  what's the respected position of z1n3z? 
 over."
 
        "dreamland, this is tower.  we've received a second contact in that 
 vicinity.  over."

        "what!@  report, major!  what is the contact?  over."
 
        "undetermined, sir."

        "jesus.  tower.  it's gonna hit it."

        "sir.  this is tower.  z1n3z has hit the object and broken up.  a 
 single chip is heading towards earth.  however, its rotation rate is in 
 flux, we won't have accurate calculations as to its landing position for 
 several hours.  over."

        "fuck you, major!  i want its whereabouts immediately.  do your best 
 to maintain radar contacts with z1n3z, and that's an order, major!  over."

        "yes, sir!"

        "dreamland, tower.  it's gone."

        "where t0o?!?"

        "over massachusetts."

        "get the dark unit out there."

        "that's affirmative."

 -+--- ------ -     -

        same time, in the dorm room of james harpor on the MIT campus.

        "whoa.  look at that.  what's that doing there? hmm, lemme check my 
 charts.  no, no, i'm right;  that's not supposed to be there.  it looks like 
 that object is coming towards the surface.  its descent rate times altitude, 
 divide by current angle, place over wind shear.  i'm gonna check this out!@ 
 just a five minute drive from here."

        jack pulls into the parking lot of domino's pizza at shardon plaza. 
 the object grows big and hits the earth with a massive explosion, throwing 
 his sedan across the lot. 

 -+--- ------ -     -

        "god, what the hell?  i should have thought of that.  ugh.  lemme get 
 my retrieval equipment out of what's left of the trunk.  i'm gonna want a 
 piece of that."

        ugh!  what the hell?  look at this stuff!  it's, like, malleable, but 
 metallic.  that's very strange.  lemme get all of this.

        very miniscule.  it's liquidized, but not hot.  ugh, this could be 
 radioactive.  better leave it alone.

        three small government-issue military-type trucks pull up and troops 
 start piling out.

        "whoa, i'll just get the fuck out of here."

        jack slips into the night through the damaged wreckage of the mall. 
 he packages the object he located at the site, which was liquid metal, and 
 slaps a stamp on it, and mails it to his friend at MIT.

        "i can't have this on me.  if anyone saw me.  i mean."

        three days later, jack's dead body is found.

 -+--- ------ -     -

 mit dorm 
 john gosper.

        "whoa, mail.  yay!  heh."

        "what the hell?  someone wrapped up a slinky in tupperware and sent 
 it to me.  oh my god". 

        "it's from jack.  how weird.  oops, i'm gonna be late for class. 
 shit, later."

        gosper leaves the slinky on the table.

        the slinky beings to talk... to itself.

        "well.  these humans sure have a rough life.  time to give it a 
 little kick."

        the slinky manages its way to the computer lab, transforms and slips 
 into the computer, and returns to the desk.

        "now that i know about their computers, i will introduce to them, the 
 eleet."

 -+--- ------ -     -

        "mom.  look uhh.  what's that you were blabbing about?"

        "i said;  when i am coming up with your dad, you better have that 
 dorm clean, and i asked if you would help us drop off stuff to the toy 
 drive."

        "oh.  fine sure.  when is this?"

        "tommorow.  god.  my son the genius."

        "okay, later mom."

        "john, how are you paying for all these calls to us!?@"

        "uhh;  i gots a lot of quarters.  later mom."

 -+--- ------ -     -

        "marge, yer son said he'd have this place cleaned.  god."

        "oh, george.  just take the box of toys back to the car, and here  - 
 i found this slinky under his desk.  throw it in there."

        "okay.  we're leaving in ten minutes, make sure he's ready."

        "just go.  uhh you."

        a quick drive into snadensville to drop off the toys and off the 
 family went.  they too died;  freak car accident.  the tires were shot out 
 and the car drove off a cliff.  weird.  not many cliffs in mass.

        oh well fuq you.

 -+--- ------ -     -

        "hi, nanny!@"

        "oh, hi, jane.  i just came here to pick up those used toys you 
 offered."

        "okay, here's yer box.  oh, is that lil cerkit?"

        "yes it is."

        "heh, whatta cutey.  how old's he now?"

        "just over two.  cerkit, no, no, put that slinky down, that's not 
 nanny's."

        "oh nanny, let him have it."

        "yer such a kind soul, jane.  have a nice day and good luck.  thanks 
 for the toys."

 -+--- ------ -     -

        nursery of the zeenies babies.

        "hi, nanny.",  "yeah, hi, nanny".

        "hi, kids."

        "here's some new toys to play with.  be good."

        "bye, nanny."

        nanny jets back to her sewing.

 -+--- ------ -     -

        "hey, cerkit."

        "hey, halo.  whatta ya doing?"

        "drawing an ascii on my etch-a-sketch."

        "two year old ascii dewd.  rad."

        "mogel, what you doing?"

        "nuttin really cerkit... formulating some new zine."

        "two years old and yer formulating?"

        "yep.  i'm mogel."

        "whoa, gotta go pee, lemme just put my slinky on the table."

        blah@! 

        night falls on the nursery.  bed time.

        the slinky gets up and heads for under the sofa.

        "now i will start it.  i have found the power of... zines."

        "good night, kids."

        "good night, nanny."

        "whew.  i think i'll just sit here on this sofa and rest my legs."

        pOOF@!# the cushions explode with fuzz everywhere, the slinky 
 slithers around nanny's body and constricts her.  she dies a slow, painful 
 death.

 -+--- ------ -     -

 - cia hq (no ansi here)

        "object z-1-n-3-z residue showed up on a body in snadesville.  a 
 grandmother died of suffocation by constriction.  we believe z1n3z has 
 reverted to some snake-like form."

        "what of the children?"

        "nothing yet, sir, they're up for adoption."

        "allow for the necessary changes.  remove nanny from their past. 
 write in the adopting parents as the biological parents.  remove all records 
 of nanny and her home."
 
        "will do, sir."

 -+--- ------ -     -

 -  present day

        "mom.  where do you want these old ass boxes?"

        "oh, just throw 'em anywhere."

        "whoa.  this one says cerkit on it.  and it's way older than when i 
 used that handle."

        hmm.  this box is too old and too far back in all these boxes for me 
 to have written that on there.  hmm.

        "i'll just open this box."

        inside the box was a birth certificate, a few torn shreds of paper 
 that resembled zines, written in crayon, and a slinky.

        "look at this.  a zine written by me and mogel at age two.  what in 
 the hell."

        the phone rang.

        "rING#!"

        "i'll get it."

        cerkit picked up the phone and heard a deep voice, almost muffled.

        "cerkit?" it said.

        "how did you know who i was?" cerkit said.

        "i recognized your voice from irc."

        "oh, okay."

        "the government is covering up stuff.  look to whitehouse.gov
 /pub/x-philes/codename/outfield."

        "share@!  i bet.  get off my phone dumbass."

        "k0dez are in yer lasalle account."

        "kLIK@!#"

        what the hell?

        the government was covering up stuff.  why?  how?  what the fuq was 
 going on?

        i headed toward my pc, noticing each name written in pen on my 
 computer frame.  they were each of my #zines homies.

        i logged into lasalle.  noticing the new motd.

        i decided to jump into irc.  then ctrl z' it back to shell cuz i 
 missed some new mail.

        what the fuq?  it had a login and password on whitehouse.gov.  this 
 mail was serious.  oh well, i figured why not.  i logged it and changed to 
 the dir.  /pub/x-philes/codename/outfield and found out about the whole 
 dealy.  the whole government plot.  but, what they didn't know, was they had 
 dragged something greatly more powerful then them to earth, which they would 
 later find out.

        it was time for werk.  i needed time to think about all this anyway, 
 to piece together this puzzle.

        the puzzle was only fuzzier by 10:30 that night when i got home.  i 
 got mogel involved, but he wasn't interested.  he wasn't convinced of the 
 whole story.

        in my dreams that night, i saw how the zine scene came to be.

 -+--- ------ -     -

        "one slinky forged the zine scene.  the same slinky in my basement 
 that day, created all of what we were."

        the dream continued.

        i was in the house of swamp rat three days prior to cDc's creation.

        "hum deeh dum."

        "swamp rat."

        there it was@!  the slinky was there and it was talking to 
 swamp rat!@!
        
        "whoa, cool!  a talking slinky!@"

        "yes, yes, i know.  anyway, i am going to give you something.  if you 
 do what it tells you, you will become almighty.  now, you see those 
 components over there?"

        "yeah.  you mean the computer i bought, heh, i'm too lazy to put it 
 together, har har@!"

        "well, today you will put it together.  and you will create a cult, a 
 cult of electronic proportions, called cult of the dead cow."

        at that time, i think, mind to mind images and ideas were transfered, 
 cuz it got real silent, yet swamp rat was seeming more and more convinced.

        "yes.  the slinky knows all.  cDc shall become."

        i don't know if this can be completely answered, but it seems 
 everything that was in swamp rat's mind was replaced.  rewritten by the 
 slinky so that swamp rat breathed, ate, and slept cDc from thence onward.

        the vision continued, and though the memory of it is very perforated, 
 i kinda remember the slinky talking to most every zine dude i can think of. 
 i believe the vision was true and from the slinky's memories.

 -+--- ------ -     -

        the slinky created the zine scene.  it left it too, though, to grow 
 by itself, so that it could rest, so it could sleep to one day return and 
 rule.

        i awoke to find the slinky forcing upon me thoughts of how to help it 
 rule, but i knew what it was asking was wrong.  worse yet, the trips through 
 its mind made me see nanny, and i began to remember what he had taken from 
 me. 

        the slinky was a good force, but it was so great, that when wielded 
 by mortal men, it caused great evils.

        the slinky was inhabited by the minds of a thousand dead zines.  and 
 now it wanted vengeance.

        i couldn't be party to the destruction of the zine scene or the rape 
 of some of its vital resources.

        i instructed mogel on what needed to be done, and it was.

 -+--- ------ -     -

        "rING@!#"

        "hello, francis residence."

        "i need to talk to black francis, it's mogel.  it's urgent."

        "well which is it, are you urgent or mogel?"

        "aww, god, it's me, mogel.  get frannie."

        "what's up, mog?"

        "the slinky, frannie.  the dreams you told me about.  they were true. 
 cerkit found out everything."

        "you mean... it's all true? jesus.  the slinky will kill us all."

        "not if we kill it first."

        "yer a bit of an optimist, mogel, yew think 10 or 20 zine dewds can 
 destroy an omniscient and omnipotent alien creature who's been manipulating 
 our society for years?"

        "yep."

        "cool, i'm in."

        "met us at the dummercon site.  ASAP."

        "kLICK!@#"

 -+--- ------ -     -

        the slinky was growing, and cerkit was worried.

        cerkit came into the room where the now twenty foot slinky was now 
 lying.

        "cerkit.  now, choose or die@!#"

        "oh shit."

        within a moment the slinky coiled around cerkit, crushing every 
 breath of air from his body.  gasping and dying, with a waving hand, cerkit 
 took hold of his red box, smashing it upside the slinky's metallic 
 epidermis.  which was useless.  however, it sparked the normal use for a red 
 box and the red box spouted out a quarter tone.  the tone threw the creature 
 across the room, almost as if in agony.

        cerkit flew up the steps and wrote a note and jammed it on the 
 'fridge.

        "don't fight the living slinky downstairs, mom.  be home in time for 
 dinner, love cerkit."

        out the door he dashed.

 -+--- ------ -     -
 
        cerkit met up with the whole crew just outside of the dummercon site.

        "guys.  it attacked me.  the slinky has gone mad."

        "jesus, are you okay@!?"

        "yes.  but, we need to stop it."

        "buh... buh... but how@!#"

        "i used a red box tone on it!#  tones, tones scare it."

        off they went phreaking, making copies of as many red boxes as 
 possible.

 -+--- ------ -     -

        by the time they reached cerkit's house, half the block was consumed 
 by the slinky.

        decibels of red box tones played on, but 'nuttin happened to the 
 slinky.  then it spoke.

        "watch more t.v., i have become immune to that tone.  i've adapted my 
 anti-bodies to deal with that hertz."

        with the battle ahead, cerkit knew his offense lacked.

        "well try this!@"

        m0rph hopped out of the trees on this treeless street and toned a 
 green box tone directly at the slinky, who suffered only mild discomfort.

        "haw haw.  foul mortals, you cannot stop me.  think slinky@!"

        everyone tried to their best ability to hack the slinky, but slowly 
 each failed and grew too weak.  then slowly each began to withdraw.

        it's just me and you, rattle.

        "there is only one way to solve this, cerkit."

        "what's that, nick?"

        "i will talk to it."

        "oh.  i understand, your story will put it to sleep as you talk for 
 hours upon hours about nothing.  in its deep sleep we could tone it back to 
 a weakened state."

        "no.  i was thinking something else.  however, i will try it yer way, 
 cerkit."

        hours passed as rattle babbled his story.  beating the same 
 redundancy which relentlessly conjured no point.  in the midst of all this, 
 cerkit had toned the creature to such a weakened state, nick's distraction 
 comatosed the slinky deity.

        as a vegetable, the slinky still made them aware of its presence in 
 their minds through its active unconscious mind.

        the battle had so ended.  rattle passed out from so much talking and 
 cerkit was exhausted from sleep depravation.  in cerkit's street lay a pile 
 of sleeping zine dewds. 

        morning came too quickly.

        this conversation soon took place, who said what is kept a secret.

        "i suggest we create a council.  a security council.  someone to 
 protect this knowledge from leaking out the wrong way.  i love security.  ya 
 know me.  root."

        "but who?  it can't be me, kurdt."

        "me.  belial!"

        "and me, cerkit!"

        "hmmm, you guys phear me, mogel!  so it's okay."

        "i wonder what happens when ya..."

        interruptingly, everyone says, "shut up rattle@!".

        slinky zine was born.  a defense force for zinedom.  the people who 
 know the truth that's out there.  the people who have the sk0op. 

        this underground faction holds the key to zine evolution.  a 
 religious occupant in the zine forces.  a deity in ascii.  a true tribute. 
 to father slinky.  the one true maker of zines.

        and while he was too crazed from suppression and power.  his good 
 intentions shall be cared on, so when you see a wACKY@!# line or an article 
 of slinky, or dto, or cDc, know that the slinky has spoken to that person.

 - ---+----------------------------------------------------------------+--- -
  - ---+ "ten ways to take over the government" by, belial

  1. blow stuff up.
  
  2. blow some more stuff up.

  3. hide the keys to the whitehouse.

  4. tell the president that his shoe is untied and when he goes to look, hit
     him real hard.  har.

  5. give newt the silent treatment.

  6. kidnap chelsie and tell everyone that it was the french.  err. 

  7. start a game of hide and seek and when it is the president's turn to 
     hide, don't look for him.
  
  8. brainwash all the goats.

  9. write "communists rule" on the whitehouse lawn in socks' blood.  icky.

 10. blow stuff up.

 - ---+ goodbye by, belial +-------------------------------------------+--- -
        
        i would personally like to thank everyone who had a part in the 
 creation of slinky.  i would like to thank everyone who contributed to this
 issue and to anyone who plans on contributing in the future.  

        cerkit and i would like to hear your thoughts on slinky issue number
 one.  we both put a lot of hard work and effort into this issue and we are
 both anxious to find out what you thought about it.  mail us at: 

        belial  -  b3lial@cybercomm.net
        cerkit  -  klevanp1@lasalle.edu

        thank you for reading, and we hope to see you in early february for 
 slinky issue number two. 

 belial + cerkit  -  slinky  -  01/03/96

 - ---+-( eof )------------------------------------------------( eof )-+--- -
