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Banana
Banana
Banana
one screen and lands on the desk with a sound like a winded lemming. On
the other side of the globe, six million chinese people are bounced into
orbit.
Just at that moment, in should walk Nick Hatton. Most people call him
Nick, but his freinds call him Nik. Y`see, he doesn`t like the "S" sound
in the middle, to rhyme with Disk. That`s the sort of person Nik knows.
The really odd thing about him is the flight path ladder and gunsight
etched on his specs. And the fact that he gets contrails off his knuckles.
The current totally, utterly, unutterably odd thing about him is the fact
that he`s covered with fine white plaster dust.
NIK: Steve, is there a problem?
STEVE: How did you know?
NIK: Well, Bob (The lekkytronical teach) just got brained by a lump of
combo readybrek/ plaster, and everything`s covered in fine white dust
downstairs, plus the fact that six million chinese people are now orbital
sushi.
STEVE: Ah. So that`s how you could tell. I`m having trouble with my C.
BOG: What, does it keep stock still, and the beach washes up and down?
Everybody throws large, hefty objects at Bog, who ducks, allowing it all to
hit The Kevin which just at that Most Opportune moment entered.
THE KEVIN: Aaaaaaooooowwww. Ha ha ha. Good joke everybody!
Sadly, Kevin U. Palmer (The "U" standing for "Uuuuhhh....") is under the
delusion that everyone likes him, and just pretends to want to kill him.
However, if you swapped the operative words in the above sentence, (Like
and Kill), you would arrive at the truth. Another home truth is that if
you know The Kevin, you will already mentally have done this, and also
substitude the word "Sadly" for the word "Hilariously".
Nik examines Steve`s sourcecode.
NIK: Oh, no wonder!!!!
STEVE: What is it?
NIK: You`ve written this like we were taught to! That`s why it`s not
working! If you just do the reverse of what Graham said, you`ll be
allright!
STEVE: Okie dokie, matey.
BOG: (Aside to Camera): Now the real reason that Steve`s program doesn`t
work, is because it was written on an IBM clone. If it had been written on
an Amiga... YOW!!!
Nik wipes the blood off of a suddenly- dented keyboard and carries on
talking to Steve.
NIK: Dead simple.
programming.
Steve whips out his Big Silver Roar Gun and riddles the monitor and CPU
box with hypothetical bullets/ rockets/ Lemmings squeaking "Fire" and
napalm.
NIK: Perfect! It`ll work now!
Lo and behold, the screen goes blank, and a banana drawn in ANSI graphics
appears.
BOG:
Now,
if
you`d
Amigaaaaaaghghghghghhh!
handdrawn
that
in
DPaint
on
an
Everyone suddenly goes silent, and looks toward the camera ominously,
then to a big lighted panel on the computer room wall.
(---------------------)
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| D A F T C O N 5 |
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(---------------------)
All wipe sweat off foreheads, and breath sighs of relief.
PATINGGGG! The sign changs to:
(---------------------)
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| D A F T C O N 4 |
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(---------------------)
And everybody starts acting nervously, looking over their shoulders, and
under desks and thing looking for anything Out Of The Ordinary.
STEVE: Maybe the sign`s broken?
NIK: If the sign`s reading wrong, how do you explain it`s presence here
any way? Did we always have a Sillyness State Indicator on the wall?
STEVE: Uh, I can`t explain it. I just hope it`s wrong!
BOG: Twiddle dee dee.
A ByStander looks worried.
Nik notices this.
NIK: (Reassuringly) Don`t worry: He`s always like this.
BYSTANDER: You mean that`s supposed to reassure me?
NIK: Good point.
BYSTANDER: OK. (Bystander points).
BOG: Caution, all personnel: Daftcon State Four has just been justified.
Daftcon State Four has just been justified. You can stop taking life too
seriously, `cos you can bet your arse it`s stopped taking you that way.
STEVE: It generally takes me with a grain of salt.
NIK: Jammy sod, all I get is a glass of water!
ALL: G R O A N N N N N N!
KNIGHT WHO SAYS NI: Ni!!!
Nick Clayton enters, and everyone swings through 180 degrees and sticks
their fingers down their throats. Disk crawl out of diskboxes and hide
under keyboards, and a muffled gunshot from the SysOp`s office marks the
fact that Alastair just can`t take any more. Ser Clayton is everybody`s
favorite: The guy who can make anybody`s program his own baby, and always
does. The progenator of the phrase "Vorsprung Durch ASCIIEditor, as we say
in D132". He`s also known as The Great One, on account of being,
essentially, a fat bast.
BOG: Serves Alastair right for taking me off the CP directory. I`ve
wanted to do that for ages.
NICK: Awight? (Inner tube jowls slapping the sides of his head with the
sound of two six- hundres- foot radius waterbombs willed with orange jelly
impacting once every point- eight seconds)
NIK: We were.
STEVE: Sort of.
BOG: Oh fuck.
THE KEV: Now I am.
N/S/B: You fucking joking?
THE KEV: Ah, well, you see, Nick here is the only one here who knows all
the keyboard shortcuts to every windows application ever written.
STEVE: Yeah, `cos he wrote `em all!
NIK: Last weekend.
BOG: At four PM.
S/N/B: I N
G E R M A N ! ! ! !
BOB: Does anybody know how this bit of carpet appeared inside my Thermos?
IAIN: Told you so!
Craig holds his head in his hands, (Clatter, clatter, splooosh, and sound
effects for six marsbars impacting on the floor which I haven`t cooked up
yet.) and gibbers.
BOG: Steve, d`you reckon it`s worth walking up that bloody hill just to
sit in tutor for five minutes and then spend forty minutes waiting for
maths to start?
STEVE: Uh, no.
BOG: Me either.
Both Bog and Steve turn back to their respective computers for exactly four
point seven zero three nine six seconds, then turn with pricise
simultaniousness to look at Iain drumming his fingers on the floor whilst
standing vertically.
Nik turns to ask Steve something, and notices that Steve isn`t interested
in being asked anything at the moment, and sees what`s got his attention.
NIK: Oh, SHIT!
Even Nick Clayton is speechless.
IAIN: What?
BOG: Iain, Iain, Iain, you`re, like, part of the floor, dude!
IAIN: So I`m a lousy shot. So what? It`s perfectly normal to commune
with carpets nowadays, you know!
STEVE: Wooooahhhhh.....
NIK: How the HELL did you get there?
IAIN: I got distracted.
CRAIG: Whine.
STEVE: If this is DAFTCON 4, I`d love to see DAFTCON 0.
BOG: Believe you me, you really, REALLY don`t want to.
IAIN: Whyever not?
BOG: It`s disturbingly like being on TV.
CRAIG: Do I want to know why that`s so terrible?
BOG: Ever seen the Twilight Zone?
NIK: Oh, SHIIIIIIT!!!
Even Iain is looking worried by now.
BOG:
come.
Gareth sticks his head around the corner, and Iain`s natural SEP field
successfully deflects his attention.
GARETH: Yeah, but then we have to wipe it off!
ALL: Baaa! Baaa! Baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!
GARETH: Allright, allright, no need to get rude.
ALL: BULLSHIT!
GARETH: Smartarses.
*****BLAMMO!***** Iain dematerializes for exactly a small fraction of a
something before reappearing two feet off the deck.
IAIN: Wah!
(Thud)
BOG: One hour fifty seven minutes. Oh God, which sadistic bast made these
units so big? Even a second`s a long time. Wankers. I know! There`s a
cure for this one!
STEVE: Oh, yeah!
NIK/ CRAIG/ IAIN: Oh, NO WAY!!
BOG: Yes, way...
STEVE&BOG:
mad...
Some thing in life are bad. They can really make you
PTINNNNGGG!!!
(---------------------)
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| D A F T C O N 3 |
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(---------------------)
ALL: Oh, bugger.
Suddenly, Graham`s voice comes from the Office of the Tenders of The Lan.
GRAHAM: Waaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhh!
NIK: <ouch>
BOG: <Gnnn>
STEVE: <Oooo>
IAIN: <Yahh>
CRAIG: <Mmph>
GARETH: Can I have a go?
N/B/S/I/C: Fu... uh... no. You can`t.
BOG: Only one thing for it, dudes. It`s starting to get silly. You know
what that means.
Craig has finished logging in, but is confused by the Henley Kollidge login
screen`s replacement by a glowing red orb. He hits the break key.
HAL: I`m sorry, Craig, but I can`t allow you to do that.
Craig looks overhis shoulder at everyone else.
CRAIG: Can somebody tell me what the HELL is going on here?
STEVE: I`m afraid IT`s happening again, Craig.
CRAIG: No, not... THAT.
NIK: Yes. We`re re- entering...
ALL: THE A LITTLE AFTER LUNCHTIME ZONE!
Soundtrack: nee nee nee nee, nee nee nee nee, nee nee nee nee, nee nee nee
nee!
HAL: Craig, why don`t you take an anti- stress pill and we`ll discuss
this. After all, I have the utmost enthusiasm for the mission.
STEVE: Hmm. We appear to have had a fragment of 2001, a Spaced Odyssey,
penetrate our personal reality- space.
NIK: Can you justify calling THIS reality?
IAIN: Ever seen inside an Amiga?
NIK: Oh, yeah.
BOG: Shurrup. (Sulk).
STEVE: Actually, guys, this is a bit of a change! We`re staying where we
were this time, and everythings coming to us!
Cue backdrop fade out to inky black space, pierced at intervals by stars
scattered like diamond dust on jet- black velvet, then to a clinically
white room:
the monitor with the glowing red orb has been
transdimensionally replaced with a dull red scanner eye and a seventieslike Bolton- ferbruary- day- grey console with the nameplate "H.A.L.
9000". We just have enough time to hear our heros` jaws hit the ground
before it`s time for the credits.
IN NEXT WEEK`S SIX MEN AND A BANANA...
----STEVE: OK. It seems that Iain here has turned reality into swiss cheese.
We just happened to randomly pop up on the Discovery, just before Frank
Poole gets killed by Hal...
DAVE: Whaaaat?
HAL: Oh, bugger. Er, it was just going to be a joke, Dave...
-----
Fade.