[Aaron]

I thought we might take a stab at collaborative story building.

So it works like this:

I start the story with an opening paragraph. Then each poster adds another paragraph & so forth.



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The Never Ending Story
by: http://www.peakoil.com/post212515.html#212515


They say that hindsight is 20/20.

You know, that thing where you wish you had known then, what you know now. But maybe it's better not to know at all... especially when there's nothing you can do about it anyway. As I pondered the nature of life, on an inner journey to my belly button I suppose, I could just barely make out the silhouette of a man on the horizon. I got that same shiver of fear I always get when they come down to visit. A little wave of pin-pricks up my back and across my scalp. Same thing happens when I eat tomatoes... go figure. But this time would be different. This time I'd stand my ground, and show everyone I had what it takes. Of course I couldn't know my life was about to change forever in ways I didn't imagine possible... & for the worst possible reason.

[Pops]

Of course that’s the problem with memories, the things you should have paid attention to blaze with the power of un-dimmed headlights in the rearview mirror of old. But, standing there with the newly sharpened hoe in one hand and the old broken file dangling from the other, I was intent on the dream-hero scenarios flickering on the back of my mind. Funny how I didn’t seem to notice as I basked in the glory of my imagined victory that my feet had already started a slow shuffle backward.

[PenultimateManStanding]

I knew they would come because they've been leaving all these menacing messages on the telephone answering machine. And all these years I've been planning to just throw it away. Everyday it's the same weary routine, the fierce beeps, the threats, more fierce beeps, more threats. The voice that says, 'you have 81 messages'. I guess I just couldn't part with that damned old answering machine because I do love the beguiling, soft feminine voice that tells me how many massages there are. Well it's all water over the dam now. They're here and the contemplative life is a thing of the past.

[Raxozanne]

I smirked to myself. Hindsight might be useful but even better is foresight. Ever since they started harassing me I’d made a habit of strapping an AK-47 to my back and boy was I glad that of that now. At least if things went to hell I’d bring as many down with me as possible. I threw my hoe and file to the ground and turned to face the insurgents. “You coming with us Mikey, back to the city” one of them spat at me in a thuggish tone. Thoughts of the city swelled up in my mind, that horrible urban sprawl of concrete and cement. How I hated it. Quickly I whipped out my AK. ‘Get back or I’ll fire’ I snarled. But just at that moment I felt a sharp sting in my neck and reaching up I realised I’d been shot with a tanquilizer dart. Damn snipers I thought before slipping into unconciousness.

[PenultimateManStanding]

Professor Plum and the lead pipe! Three-eyed dogs of war! Swirling, kaleidoscopic imagery for hours! The Dart! The Dart! I can't find my way back to sanity as these bizarre oddities flood my mind. Two headed lesbian midget mudwrestlers! When will it end!

[EdF]

They came into the house looking pretty normal - if squeaky-clean middle-class and WASP is normal. They asked if we'd seen their videos yet as they packed up all the books in the house and passed out the replacements.

"We expect you to have read these by the time we come back - we won't say when, but it will be soon". Still dazed from the dart, I saw something like "Jesus is your Savior" on the cover of the books.

"When we get back, we'll be taking you to the clearance center in case you need further processing", the leader said quietly.

After they left, my parents spoke openly of why we were here. Immediately, they melted into golden light and evaporated.

We knew then that it was now our mission to carry it on ...

[Aaron]

I snapped awake from my bizarre dream of tranquilizer darts, and maids screaming and midgets, right where I was supposed to be. I clicked the comm link to check the status alert for my squadron closing on Zeblon 5. The autopilot had kept me on course, but my private communications light was blinking an angry red. I let it blink. I was nervous enough closing on the enemy position, without having to endure Makia's endless optimism as well. We were entering the gravity well of the enemy planet below, so I began plotting my attack vectors, when something happened that would change everything.

[EdF]

Suddenly I was in a large theater, and Bruce Springsteen came marching down the aisle with his entourage, toward the stage (man, you gotta hate oxygen deprivation). The ministers started calling out the names of those who needed further processing. Naturally, my name was on the list.

I sidled out of the aisle and made small-talk with one of the gendarmes. It became clear that I might be able to escape notice - but then it became clearer that they knew who I was, and headed me towards the reprocessing center.

Suddenly, the frame shifted and I saw flashing red lights on the surrounding consoles ...

[Granny-May]

Orange alert blaring from the console indicators. I glanced to port and starboard and spotted the Poopcopian mother ship surrounded by an armada of dirigibles. My spetroscopic analyzer shows they're hauling Hydrogen and heading straight for Area 51.

I know these bad dudes from Pluto are armed and determined to deliver the goods. Best for me to duck behind a satellite for now. I'm just not in the mood to be hydrogenated. Hey! What's this that just appeared in my telescopic-infrared-night vision goggles?

[Granny-May]

Meanwhile, a dark figure crouches in the shrubbery of a remote area of Washington State. Stroking the barrel of his fully-automatic Spec-XXXXLG. he mutters to himself, "I just love the smell of Zombies in the morning."

[Raxozanne]

As I pilot the millenium falcon around behind the satellite to hide from the poopcopian mothership Makia appears from the cargo bay. She flashes one of her dazzling assassin smiles at me and then winks obviously. Quickly I turn on the ships cloaking device and set it to autopilot. This is going to be one bumpy ride, yeah baby!

[Omnitir]

Pain shoots through my abdomen and the dreams fade. Again I feel a mighty burst of pain through my abdomen and this time the pain brings with it a part of reality, chasing away the ridiculous dreams and visions racing through my mind in my drug-induced state. Once again I feel a jolt of pain to my abdomen, and through my blurred vision I see a military booted foot coming away. The booted foot pulled back ready for another kick when I rolled to my back looking up at the figure in camouflage army gear. I weakly raise my arms to protect myself from the next kick, and beg for mercy.
“No. No more. Please. Stop.” I manage to blubber out.
“He’s back” I here someone say.
The foot stops it’s next kick, and the figure bends down and roughly grabs me. Strong hands lift me clean off the floor and carry me through a door. Outside. Blinding light blinds me, the searing pain of being in direct sunlight after spending too long in an overly dark room. Before I have a chance for my eyes to adjust, the arms carrying me drop me. I fall for what seems like an impossibly long time, to splash down into a pool of frigid water. The cold instantly brings reality completely back to my mind, all the crazy dreams of wars in space and other ridiculous things television creators of the 20th century dreamed up now long forgotten and replaced by the bleak truth of the world. I raise my head above the waters surface and gulp for air, pulling myself out of the frigid pool I look upon the bleak world that has come to be. I’m surrounded by military personal, looking far too fit and healthy for people of the times. I guess three solid meals a day would do that for you. My mind is almost back to itself again, and I become completely aware of my situation. They got me again. State “police” had managed to put me through processing, and my resolve had once again been destroyed. A young soldier throws a small blanket over me and starts herding me towards a waiting carriage. Where they were taking me was no longer important to me. Nothing seemed to matter to me anymore, not even my hunger, which was a welcome change. The soldier pushed me into the back of the carriage where I sat with a group of skinny, wretched looking people, and there we waited to be taken to god knows where.

[Granny-May]

Makia is a determined tramp and proceeds to plaster the area with her Humanure bazooka. The ship takes a few plops, but is able to evade a full assault. Whew! That was too close a call. Time to upgrade the excremental effluence deflectors.

[Granny-May]

Meanwhile, a dark figure armed with his fully-automatic Spec-XXXXLG creeps on his belly through the thickening shrubbery towrd a strange sound. He spies a woman working in a field. "I don't like their kind and won't tolerate no turnip-growin hippies on my side of the mountain. My momma tried to make me eat turnips to no good end and I won't tolerate anyone trying to force turnips on me."

The fully-automatic Spec-XXXXLG proves its efficiency and the dark fugure creeps on.

[Omnitir]

Oblivious to the action taking place far off in the city, the carriage driver pulls the horses to a stop, and four soldiers jump down. Three stand guard while one proceeds to unlock the carriage gate. The young man looks at up me from the road, with an contemptuous smirk spread across his face. It was almost like he was hoping for some struggle, as he raised his automatic weapon at me and motioned for us to jump down from the carriage. We all complied, filing out onto the road in a neat orderly fashion. We were too exhausted from the processing to put up a struggle, yet the soldiers still acted like we were dangerous criminals. I looked around our surroundings, but didn’t recognise the location. It certainly wasn’t near my homestead community. A deep fear began to rise within me as I started to contemplate the thought of not being allowed to return to my homestead, and the possibility of never seeing my family and friends again. No mater what happens here, I thought, I must get back to my community.

[Granny-May]

The processing leaves me weak and confused. When I turn to walk left I'm compelled to walk to the right. There is a strange electrical sensation between my ears. No way to resist their demonic influence. Oh no! I've been inplanted!!

[PenultimateManStanding]

I catch just the slightest glimpse of the control room. They are laughing! I swear to god they are having a ball! I try to pick my nose but this fiendish soldier is messing with a joystick and I poke my eye instead. "Ha! Ha!" they chortle. I turn to frown a serious frown, they push some buttons and I find myself hopping on one leg and rubbing my stomach. They push another button and I begin singing 'Somewhere Over The Rainbow.' This can't continue, I tell myself with steely resolve. Time to concieve a plan - a plan these dimwit soldiers will not see coming!

[Andrew_S]

<flashback>

Mr Lanzer: "Gordon."

Mr Lanzer: "GOORDON!"

Me: "Err. Yes, Sir?"

Mr Lanzer: "What did I just say?"

Me: "Errr, ich glaube, das Beste ist, wir nehmen eine Taxe, nicht wahr?"

Mr Lanzer: "Hrrmpf boy, are you feeling unwell?"

Me (with a fluish head and croaky voice): "Well, in fact yes, Sir... I mean unwell."

Mr Lanzer: "Hrmmpf, I hope you're not being insolent. You do sound a bit weak. Report to Matron at the sanatorium."

Me: "Yes, Sir."

Still half asleep, I gladly stepped out the classroom door to the usual cacophany of puerile taunts "Gordon, Gordon, Gordon....".

And then the smack of the yard long ruler on wood: "SILENCE!"

Damn it, to be Neil MacNeil or even Gordon MacGordon... but Gordon Gordon... some parents must be plain evil or stupid.

As I passed the modest school library the smell of autumn leaves and dank earth was somehow comforting. The cool air on my flushed cheeks cleared my head a little. I knew I could lie and sleep, but I'd have to pass Crusher (the head Matron) first.

Taking the straightest route through School House I saw ahead of me Miss Pauls, the laundress, go into her room. Outside the open door I hovered a few seconds savouring a pretty ankle atop a prim court shoe. Life was not easy when barely fifteen.

I braced myself to enter the sanatorium. There was an antiseptic smell as I waited in the small hallway.

Matron: "Yes?"'

Me: "Mr Lanzer sent me, Miss. I'm not well."

Thank God, it was Miss Chambers, the assistant matron.

Matron: "Take a seat."

She glanced at my flushed face, and having slipped a thermometer under my tongue, lightly held the soft back of her hand against my cheek.

Matron: "Yes, you clearly have a fever."

I certainly did, and it was rising.

</flashback>

[PenultimateManStanding]

My God! They're implanting memories! This plan had better work or next I'll be 'remembering' when I was an Asian-American Middle School student in Minnesota! The resultant of two vectors is a third vector in another direction. As long as expectations are minimized, the 'control impulses' can be countered with self-will with unpredictable resultant action. It is only neccessary to analyze the resultants to outwit the controllers. . .

[Omnitir]

Meanwhile back in the city, the dark figure still creeping in the shadows sees something he hasn’t seen since the oil crash: a fully functional unmarked civilian car, loudly driving down the neglected city streets. In this city, it can only be a government official riding in such wasteful luxury, he thought. So he sets himself up in a suitable vantage point, pulls out his fully-automatic Spec-XXXXLG, and takes aim at the approaching vehicle, waiting for just the right moment.