_ | \ | \ | | \ __ | |\ \ __ _____________ _/_/ | | \ \ _/_/ _____________ | ___________ _/_/ | | \ \ _/_/ ___________ | | | _/_/_____ | | > > _/_/_____ | | | | /________/ | | / / /________/ | | | | | | / / | | | | | |/ / | | | | | | / | | | | | / | | | | |_/ | | | | | | | | c o m m u n i c a t i o n s | | | |________________________________________________________________| | |____________________________________________________________________| ...presents... Bob Takes a Trip by Special Agent Finerty >>> a cDc publication.......1994 <<< -cDc- CULT OF THE DEAD COW -cDc- ____ _ ____ _ ____ _ ____ _ ____ |____digital_media____digital_culture____digital_media____digital_culture____| "There are times when a man has to be alone. Sometimes you just have to take off and get in touch with yourself and with the part of you that is deep and introspective." Those words played over and over in his head like a record with a bad scratch. He knew he was right though. He really did need to take a break. Hell, he'd been on the project only three months and already he had enough data for two papers. "Yeah," he thought, "I guess I deserve a break." That's where he found himself as he shoved his tooth brush into the duffel bag. Bob was taking a vacation. His first, and to Disneyland to boot. He'd heard all about the insane rides and the throngs of people. He knew he could lose himself there, knew that no one would notice that he never talked to anyone else and always ate alone. Indeed, he knew he could get in touch with himself there. Bob was never the type of kid to play in the woods or even play outside much. He preferred to sit and read or watch TV. As far as he was concerned, this trip to Disneyland was a trip into nature, into the real world, a world where Bob had never felt entirely comfortable. It's hard to feel normal in such a place when you're a two foot high, dysfunctional mechanical dog. At Disneyland, he would fit right in. Most likely people would just think he was one of the attractions. He knew they never talked so he could just keep to himself and think. Of course, getting there wouldn't be too much fun. He had to call a cab and then put himself in one of those large doggie carriers with a note on top from himself to the cabbie explaining what should be done. "Fucking incompetents," was all he could think as the container slammed against the door of the cab. He growled at the cabbie for this but he just ignored Bob. So Bob gored him right there. After he had cleaned the blood off himself, he shoved the driver into the trunk and drove himself to the airport parking in a desolated area of the garage so no one would see him getting out of the cab. He grabbed all of his crap and walked to the spot where a porter should show up to help people with their luggage. Finally a seemingly young college student type of person showed and read the note Bob had put on the top of the carrier. "At least this chick isn't such a fuck like the cabbie," Bob thought. He didn't like to kill people. They didn't taste very good for one thing, and the blood always made a helluva mess on his plaid vest. After he was loaded onto the plane, he set his alarm to go off when the plane began losing altitude and dozed off to dream of Pluto and how he'd really like to teach him what a real dog would do to Mickey. His dream was left unfinished however, when the plane began to descend just a little early. Well, actually it was way too early. They were still over Nevada. Five seconds after he woke up, the plane crash-landed into the sand. Bob was not happy. Being stuck in the damned dog carrier was not the best place to be when you and the luggage are brought to a sudden stop. As he flew through the baggage compartment, he thought about the pain he would inflict upon the pilot if he was still alive. Magically, more than half of the passengers survived the crash. The survivors, however, took a secret vote and decided they should use Bob to obtain parts to fix the broken transmitter in the plane. This was, of course, a most unfortunate and fatal move on the part of the survivors and they soon joined the rest of the passengers as carrion. Bob was not happy; not only was his last vest bloodied with the juice of a hundred ignorant humans but he was at least a day behind in his vacation plans. "Ah fuck it," he said, and proceeded to launch one of his nuclear missiles at Moscow. "I'm so sick of this shit," he thought as he walked towards the nearest mesa. "Might as well have a good view of the fireworks." _______ __________________________________________________________________ / _ _ \|Demon Roach Undrgrnd.806/794-4362|Kingdom of Shit.....806/794-1842| ((___)) |Cool Beans!..........415/648-PUNK|Polka AE {PW:KILL}..806/794-4362| [ x x ] |Metalland Southwest..713/579-2276|ATDT East...........617/350-STIF| \ / |The Works............617/861-8976|Ripco ][............312/528-5020| (' ') | Save yourself! Go outside! DO SOMETHING! | (U) |==================================================================| .ooM |Copyright (c) 1994 cDc communications and Special Agent Finerty. | \_______/|All Rights Reserved. 11/01/1994-#290| ÿÿ