[--------------------------------------------------------------------------] ooooo ooooo .oooooo. oooooooooooo HOE E'ZINE RELEASE #784 `888' `888' d8P' `Y8b `888' `8 "The Biggest, Largest, Most 888 888 888 888 888 Exciting Heist of All Time, 888ooooo888 888 888 888oooo8 Part 8: The TRUE Nature of the Heist" 888 888 888 888 888 " by Nybar 888 888 `88b d88' 888 o 8/12/99 o888o o888o `Y8bood8P' o888ooooood8 [--------------------------------------------------------------------------] Nybar's apartment minus Nybar, with Jubjub and Dawn the waitress in the kitchen and Guy and Keith in the monitoring room. Jubjub was pontificating on some subject or other. "Well... I suppose we're going to have to tell you eventually anyway, so I might as well tell you the whole story. This is going to sound pretty damn weird, so I'll just spit it out:--" after a barely perceptible glance to make sure Keith and Guy were still in the soundproofed monitoring room, he continued. "okay, one more clarification. This isn't going to sound weird. It's going to sound REALLY weird. Here goes: One night 100 years ago, a group of ascetic monks practicing a strange religion living in a temple on top of a mountain wished upon evil spirits to grant them a boon. They wanted to be able to write their philosophy and spirituality into a Bible that anyone, even the dumbest of the dumb, could understand, and spread their religion around the world. One day, weeks later, they got what they wished for. The head monk woke in his bed of thorns to see a scepter next to him. When he picked it up, he felt charged with a strange power. He knew that this is what he had wished for. "Immediately after giving himself 50 lashes with a bull-whip, he set to work writing their Bible. He was horrified with the outcome; it was all popular drivel. It read like a serial novel! The Head-Monk now knew what anyone who has heard a story like this before knows; don't make a deal with demons/evil spirits/the devil unless you want to get fucked over. "The Head Monk sent his young son, Abdul, to the market and had him sell the scepter. We lose track of it a little here, but it eventually found it's way into the hands of a J.D. Salinger. Now you know why The Catcher in the Rye was so popular; it was written by a man with The Scepter. J.D. Salinger used the scepter judiciously and not very greedily, unlike the next person it fell into the hands of, Stephen King. I don't know how he got it, but he's been using it for years to become what he is today. Finally, I believe the scepter got bored of him. Bam, hit by a van. Don't fuck with evil spirits. "After this accident, King's home was broken into. The Scepter was nowhere to be found. But Stephen King has been heard by hospital attendents babbling about an evil entity, and the Scepter being taken back to it's lair. This much practically everyone knows, for it's a legend among hack writers, which almost all hoe contributors are. 'Find the Scepter and you'll be rich' is what 'zine veterans tell their gullible compatriots. "Well, before you call me and Nybar gullible, consider this: an explorer recently climbed to the top of the mountain the ascetic monk temple was located. Well, the temple was still there, but no monks. Save for one, Abdul, the old Head-Monk's son. He was emaciated and nearly incoherently senile, but he, too, kept babbling about an evil spirit. He gave the explorer a note from his father. Here's a transcript of it." Jubjub removes a piece of paper from his right pocket and reads from it: "blah blah blah... this is an incoherent part... ah here we go, it says: The Scepter is completely alive, perhaps a manifestation of the popular mentality that buys the drivel it produces. An evil spirit for a modern age, if this is the truth! In any case, though, the scepter will not be held thrall to the likes of Stephen King for much longer. It will most likely return to it's ancestral home after taking care of him...," Jubjub pauses and furrows his brow, "more incoherency, something about blue lobsters, ok, it starts again: we were naive to think that we could create a force as essential as the scepter, really it has always existed, a conscious entity with no point but to opiate the masses, so to speak. Heh heh..." Jubjub paused again "this is another incoherent part actually, it's a long rant on organized religion, but I'll spare you. Hmm, that's the end of the useful part. The other thing that the explorer was given was this map." Jubjub brandished a map. "This is the one advantage we have over the guys in the Pentagon--whom Nybar thinks are trying to knock us off--we know exactly where what we're looking for is. In theory at least, but we can't seem to figure out what region this map is for! Nybar thinks they have the opposite problem; they know what general area the map is for but don't have the map! Uh..." Jubjub pants. "That's was a mouthfull, yaknow?" As Jubjub catches his breath, Dawn simply sits, turning the facts over in her mind. The panting man and the tied up, thinking waitress sit like this for what seems like an eternity. Dawn finally breaks the silence: "So, if you can get the sceptre, what do you plan to do with it? What makes you think you can escape the evil spirits any more than JD Salinger or Stephen King could?" she asks in earnest, but Jubjub laughs heartily. "I don't really know. I'm really just hired help.. take it up with Nybar!" he replies through his laughter. Then she laughs too, mainly at the sheer stupidity and self infatuation of this Nybar character. Jubjub's laughter continued for a long time, as did the two's conversation. Menawhile, under the kitchen table, an electronic monitoring device picks it all up. But the part of interest to the monitors is already over. [--------------------------------------------------------------------------] [ (c) !LA HOE REVOLUCION PRESS! HOE #784 - WRITTEN BY: NYBAR - 8/12/99 ]