The Adventures of Hobo Orgy Guy and Blondie ***FINAL EPISODE***

[Okay, maybe Mike Johnson is a competent parliamentarian.]

Key:

Blue=US control. Dark blue=voted for President Naso; lighter blue=did not vote for President Naso; cyan=military control.
Red=annexed to Canada.
Green=sharia.
Brown=militias.
Orange=Mormons.
Gold=trolls.
Purple=Oklahoma.


How did I do?

[Mr. Morden]

How did I do?

Perfect.  Of course, if one really wanted to, one could imagine variations that don't involve all the state boundaries remaining intact.  But it doesn't really matter for the purposes of this story.  Our heroes aren't going on a 50 state tour.  Just a road trip to Salt Lake City that will also take them through troll territory in eastern CO.

I'll explain what "troll territory" consists of several episodes down the line.

[Okay, maybe Mike Johnson is a competent parliamentarian.]

How did I do?

Perfect.  Of course, if one really wanted to, one could imagine variations that don't involve all the state boundaries remaining intact.

I was thinking of doing that--adding some boundary ambiguity in southern Iowa and Northern Missouri, northern Louisiana and southern Arkansas, around the troll territory, and so on--but I didn't want to get ahead of what's been established in the story so far.

I'm excited to see what the troll territory is like.

[Mr. Morden]

The Adventures of Hobo Orgy Guy and Blondie (....in progress)

Episode 9 "Most Of It Goes In One Ear And Out The Other"

[We begin in the Mars Bar.  After Ernest and Inks's explanation of the background on the Islamist insurgency, as covered in the last episode, talk turns to the dance competition.  Inks is returning to the table, having come back with the order of participants for the competition.]

Inks: You two (points to Hog and RickRoll) will be up just after Ernest and myself.  The warm up act will start soon enough, and then the competition starts immediately afterwards.

Hog: Warm up act?

Inks: See the old man over there?

[Inks points at a man across the room who appears to be in his late 70s.  He's standing up and appears to be muttering to himself, and occasionally looking down at a piece of paper in his left hand.]

Inks: That's Torie, another former Atlas moderator.  He does stand up comedy.

I mean, we're all pretty sure he's no longer quite right in the head.  Delusions.  This place is called the Mars Bar, but he seems to think that this is actually Mars, and that he's lived here his whole life.  Spends most of the day on the treadmill, drinking protein shakes and shouting profanities.  Says he's afraid to go to Earth, as the heavy gravity there would crush his bones.

In any case, reaction to his stand up routine has been mixed, as he relies heavily on shock value.

RickRoll: Well, if we're going to be on soon, I'd like to use the bathroom first.  Excuse me.

[RickRoll gets up, and makes his way to the bathroom.  He actually crosses the path of Torie, who gently grabs his arm as he walks by.]

Torie: Excuse me.  Excuse me, sir.

RickRoll: Yeah?  What do you want?

Torie: Listen....is it just me, or do my b@lls itch?

RickRoll: (taken aback by the question) Umm...it's you.

Torie: Oh good.  For a second I thought my b@lls itched.

[RickRoll just stares at him, not knowing what to say.]

Torie: It's a joke.

[Back at the table across the room, Ernest, Inks, and Hog continue to chat.]

Hog: So, there are a lot of you moderators here, huh?  How much time did you spend moderating that internet forum?

Ernest: I suppose it depends on how you define time spent moderating.  Do you restrict yourself to time spent issuing infraction points, deleting or modifying posts, moving threads, etc.?  Do you include PMs sent to other posters discussing moderation, and/or time spent composing posts for the mod board?

Inks: You could also include time spent reporting posts that may or may not be for boards that you yourself moderate.

Ernest: Of course, a large fraction of reported posts were frivolous, and resulted in no action from the moderators.  Inks himself reported a fairly high 2.15 posts per moderator action.

Inks: Only if you include posts in which the post was modified but no points were assessed as no action.  I think if you include those as a moderator action, it drops to 1.83, which is lower than your 1.95.

Ernest: This depends on the time baseline one uses.  Are you including the full time baseline of the infraction system?

Inks: No, because the early records no longer exist.  (Inks pulls out a printout he happens to have in his pocket) However, I've taken a random sampling from 5 one week periods....

[Hog backs away from the table, not wanting to get in on the argument.  When RickRoll returns from the bathroom, they meet at the bar.  Hog, hoping that the argument will distract Ernest and Inks from the competition, asks RickRoll to remain at the bar with him.]

RickRoll: (to Hog) For the love of God, what a ridiculous argument they're having.  Reminds of that time in college when Bushie and a friend of his argued about whether it was possible to annoy God by making too many prayers for unimportant requests.

[It's then time for Torie to begin his act.  Everyone is silent (except Ernest and Inks, who continue to argue under their breath about who has made more frivolous moderator reports) as he approaches the microphone to deliver his act.

I can't actually type out what Torie says, because it includes numerous expletives, so I'll give you the video (WARNING: numerous profanities here, so NSFW):

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q7P7BFBWQ1E

As Torie finishes his act, he declares the beginning of the dance contest.  First up is AndrewCT, who does some impressive singing with backup from the band, but his dancing is rather simplistic.  He gets polite applause from the audience.

Next up is Tender Branson, whose halfhearted attempt to pull off Austrian folk dancing is met by boos from the audience (2:33 in the video below).

Ernest and Inks are then supposed to be on, but they continue to argue about the statistics of frivolous moderator reports.  Hog then urges on RickRoll to step up for their turn, and....well....again, you can see the video here (yes, I realize that Hog is now "played" by a different actor than the one from the Fredward video...~3:25 in the video for Hog and RickRoll's dance):

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UDqQRuY-Voo

As Hog and RickRoll are finishing their act, the camera focuses on a well dressed man with a bow tie sitting on the side of the bar, looking uncomfortable.]


TO BE CONTINUED....

[Mr. Morden]

OK, that one was pretty short, but the next one will be at least a bit longer and include a fun flashback.

Also, the Ernest/Inks argument is a parody of a real life one they had on the mod board.  (You had to be there.)

[Grumpier Than Uncle Joe]

Please delete future references to Torie's balls and include the fact that Jeff Junior/Blondie will be deceased soon from overheating.

[Mr. Morden]

The Adventures of Hobo Orgy Guy and Blondie (....in progress)

Episode 10 "I Lose Sight Of The Fact That The Only Thing I Deserve Is Hell"

[We again begin in the Mars Bar.  After a few more contestants participate in the dance contest, an announcement is made that the judges will deliberate, and announce the results shortly.

At this point, the Ernest/Inks argument is finally wrapping up.  Ernest walks over to talk to Hog and RickRoll, when he notices the well dressed man in the bow tie (mentioned at the end of the last episode), who is now revealed to be....]

Ernest: Nym!  I didn't know you were even going to be here tonight.  Hog, RickRoll, come over to meet Nym, the owner of this establishment.

Nym90: (still looking uncomfortable, but shakes hands with them regardless) Pleased to meet you.

Hog: You OK?

Nym90: Yes, yes.  I'm fine.  Please, sit down.

[Ernest, Hog, and RickRoll all join him at his table.]

Nym90: It's just that....I recognize you.  (points to RickRoll)  I remember you as RickRoll, a poster who was banned from Atlas.

RickRoll: You remember that?!?

Nym90: I remember all of them....the face of every poster I ever banned.

Ernest: (explaining to Hog and RickRoll) Nym feels tremendous guilt over everything that happened with Atlas.

RickRoll: It's no big deal.  It was just an internet forum that I spent a few hours on.  And that was years ago.  I don't blame you.

Nym90: Yes, well.....you were banned before the dark days, when the troll problem became much worse.  Dave Leip, the Atlas administrator....we never heard from him after the mid 2010s, when troll activity was increasing greatly.  But with the help of Inks and my deputy Modadmin, Ernest here, we were able to unlock additional administrator functions, which made permabans more....permanent.

[We now cut to a flashback, of some unspecified time late in the 2010s.  Inks is in an interrogation room, interrogating a prisoner.  Adjacent to the room is another room, connected by a one way mirror, so that others can observe the interrogation, but neither Inks nor the prisoner can see through to the other side.  In this other room, Ernest is observing through the glass.

A door to the room that Ernest is in opens, and Nym walks through.]

Nym90: Good morning, Ernest.

Ernest: Good morning sir.  I have the file on the prisoner here.  (hands a manilla envelope to Nym)

Nym90: (opens envelope) Another one caught by Inks?

Ernest: Indeed, sir.

Nym90: He is remarkable, isn't he Ernest?  An inspiration to the rest of the team.

Ernest: That he is, sir.

Nym90: All right, so this one's name is "Son of Rhodie"?

Ernest: That's correct, sir.  Posting from an IP in Cardiff, where we've had numerous sock accounts of British Dixie.  One such sock account was named "Rhodie", so this is rather suspicious.

Nym90: I see.  Well, you are dismissed, Ernest.  I believe your shift is over, and it's time for you to get back to your day job.

Ernest: Thank you sir.

Nym90: See you tomorrow Ernest. (as Ernest salutes, and then leaves the room)

[We shift focus to the interrogation room...]

Inks: Now, let's go over this again.  Your registration email was Al_should_die_in_a_fire@gmail.com.  How long have you had that email address?

Son of Rhodie: I think....a year?  About a year ago, I got a gmail account.

Inks: And what is the meaning of that address, "Al should die in a fire"?  Who is Al?  And why should he die in a fire?

Son of Rhodie: It means....that I hate....Al....Gore?

Inks: You're telling me, or you're asking me?

Son of Rhodie: Telling you.

Inks: So you've never had any sock accounts on Atlas?

Son of Rhodie: Never.

Inks: And you are not a sock account yourself?

Son of Rhodie: No....I would never....

Inks: Then how do you explain THESE? (as Inks quickly yanks up Son of Rhodie's right pant leg, to reveal several layers of socks, all with different IP addresses written on them)

[Son of Rhodie crumbles onto the floor, begging Inks for mercy.]

Son of Rhodie: I didn't know the penalty would be so severe.  I thought, perhaps, you'd block my IP.  Or contact my ISP to have them cut me off.  (holding back tears) I only did this because I wanted to cast multiple votes in the "opinion of bacon sundaes" thread!

Nym90: (from the adjacent room, speaking into the intercom system) I've seen enough Inks.  I'll take over from here.

[Nym walks into the interrogation room, as Inks pulls all of Son of Rhodie's socks off of both feet, gathering them up as he prepares to leave the room.]

Nym90: (to Inks as he's leaving)  Excellent work Inks, as always.  Take those socks to Level 2 processing.

[Inks departs, leaving Nym and a defeated Son of Rhodie alone.]

Nym90: (to Son of Rhodie) You did read the Terms of Service when you registered?

Son of Rhodie: Yes....I mean no, no I didn't read it.  I just clicked the box that said I read it, but no one ever reads those things.

Nym90: No one?  No one ever reads the Terms of Service, do they?  Mr. Rhodie.....or should I say.....Mr. British Dixie?  Even if you did not read the Terms of Service, you must have been aware that by posting on this site, you were using the property of Dave Leip.  Not your own property, but his?

Son of Rhodie: Yes.

Nym90: We have not heard from Mr. Leip of late.  We are not in direct contact with him.  But I have been entrusted with protecting his property.  I must uphold his rules.

Son of Rhodie: Yes...yes I understand.  But perhaps you could....

Nym90: I am not a violent man.  I do not enjoy violence.  But the job that I have been charged with by Mr. Leip requires violence.  And, if you must know....today is my birthday.  Would you like to celebrate my birthday with me?

Son of Rhodie: Well, happy birthday.  That sounds.....

[Nym begins to glow red, as the D-MI avatar on the front of his shirt alights, which stuns Son of Rhodie into silence for a second, and then....]

Son of Rhodie: What....what are you doing?  What's happening?

Nym90: It's my birthday, and we're going to have a birthday party.

[Nym lifts his hands, and red electricity pours forth from them, encircling Son of Rhodie.]

Nym90: Son of Rhodie, you have created multiple sock accounts, in violation of the Terms of Service.  You are PERMABANNED from the Atlas forum.

[The red electricity closes in on Son of Rhodie and disintegrates his body, which is quickly reduced to a pile of dust.  Nym looks down at his remains, showing no emotion.]

[We now cut back to 2029, and the conversation in the Mars Bar.]

Ernest: I do not regret our actions in those days.  The circumstances we faced were extraordinary.

Nym90: No, no you don't regret our actions.  But you did not bear the burden that I did. (turns to RickRoll) Let me tell you something RickRoll, I remember your face, just like I remember the face of every one of them, whether they lived or died.

I did not seek the job of Modadmin.  But Dave granted me the responsibility, and I accepted it.  I did not foresee how it would change me.  I became....a wild animal.  I was a lion who could not be satisfied with the meal alone.  I needed the kill.

Hog: But that's over now?

Nym90: Yes.  Yes, it's over.  There is no more Atlas.  We never heard from Dave again, but the plug was pulled on the website.  The maps, the forum....all gone now.  The US government reportedly had a copy made of the Atlas database, housed at the NORAD bunker in Cheyenne Mountain, but that's in troll territory now.  The government surely must have lost control of that facility at some point, so I don't know what happened to it.  All that's left of Atlas is this....

[Nym tosses a CD onto the table, and pushes it in Hog's direction.]

Nym90: Here.  Take a copy if you like.  It's "Update: A Book on Tape, as Narrated by Benedict Cumberpatch".  Bushie's online diary during the years of Atlas.  The most popular diary in all of modern history.  You can find these everywhere.  But as for the rest of Atlas.....all gone.  The main site (shakes head), it is a great loss.  But I'm glad that the forum is gone.  After what it did to me, and the rest of the moderation team here......and all of our victims.

[Nym pauses, and is about to say something else, when we hear a loud noise coming from outside, and then a dog yelping.  Everyone at the table rushes to the door, and steps outside.  MasterJedi is outside, at the door, running security.]

Nym90: (to MasterJedi) What was that?  What happened out here?

MasterJedi: Space bikers.  Nabbed a kid and a dog.  We got video of them on one of the security cameras on the side of the building.

[MasterJedi shows the others the video, having already downloaded it onto a handheld device he has.]

Hog: (reacting to the sight of Blondie on the video) That's our dog!

Nym90: Did you get an IP scan on them?

MasterJedi: Yes sir.

Nym90: Excellent work!  We'll be able to track them wherever they go in the world.  (to Hog and RickRoll) Don't worry gentlemen.  I won't abide kidnapping on my premises.  We'll get back your dog, and return that boy to his parents.


TO BE CONTINUED....

[Mr. Morden]

Incidentally, when I was almost done writing that episode, and just putting the finishing touches on it, I went back and looked at the thread introducing Nym as Modadmin:

https://uselectionatlas.org/FORUM/index.php?topic=130306.0

Nym's first post in that thread was:

Thanks for the gracious introduction, Lunar.

Perhaps this is more apropos a picture:

[Mr. Morden]

Will have to break this one into two posts because of length...


The Adventures of Hobo Orgy Guy and Blondie (....in progress)

Episode 11 "I Am No Longer Satisfied With The Status Quo"

[We open on the Oval Office.  It's late at night on Jan. 20th, Inauguration Day, and newly sworn in President Mike Naso is alone after coming back from the Inaugural ball, leaning back in his chair, just taking in the fact that he's now the most powerful man on Earth (sort of....maybe not....the USA isn't quite what it used to be).

Naso is startled when he hears a voice, indicating that he's not alone in the room.  The voice is that of holo-Bushie:]

Excuse me Mi-, I mean Reaganf-, I mean, Mr. President.  I didn't mean to startle you, but I have something important to talk to you about.

Naso: Bushie!  That is you, isn't it?  How did you get in here?  Just today, after I was inaugurated, my five year old daughter said to me "Daddy, aren't there bad people out there who want to hurt you now?"  I said "Yes, dear.  There are many bad people who want to hurt me, and who want to hurt you too.  Terrorists would kill us all right now if they had the chance, because daddy wants to kill them.  But we have secret service agents guarding our house now, so if terrorists come, the Secret Service will shoot them all with their big guns, and there'll be terrorist blood and brains everywhere, just like in an Arnold Schwarzenegger movie."

You ask how did I get in here?  I come in here, and the first words you say are "How did you get in here?"  Wow, Mr. President.  You don't have to accuse me of sneaking around like that.  There's no reason to make such hurtful accusations.  Anyway, can we move on, and change the topic?  Can I tell you about how I'm a hologram speaking to you from the future via these quote boxes?  Do you understand?

[Bushie waves his holographic hand through the wall to show Naso.]

I'm speaking to you from 2035, and I want to help you by you helping me.

[Naso is a bit stunned by what he sees, but he replies...]

Naso: You're from the future and you want to help me?  When Ronald Reagan was president in the 1980s, he said "The nine most terrifying words in the English language are, 'I'm from the government and I'm here to help.'"



Now you say you want to help me, but you're from the future and not the government.  But big government is growing every day.  If you're from the future, then you might be from a world in which the government is so big that you're a part of it, but don't even realize it, because you haven't stopped to think about anything happening in the world without the government holding your hand and coddling you.  It's also possible that liberal bias in the media has gotten worse in the future, and so the media has convinced you that you're only helping people, when you're really just addicting them to food stamps.

What will the future you speak of be like?

We can answer this question by imagining what someone from the past would think of the "future" we live in today.  A few weeks ago, while taking a break from White House transition planning, I watched an old rerun of Cheers on TV.  This is common, to watch old TV shows, since Hollywood is now run by Islamists, and there aren't as many new shows here as there once were.  We're stuck with an increasing number of foreign imports from nations with a questionable commitment to capitalism, who don't share our values.



While watching Cheers, I said to my wife Jessica "Do you remember when women had big hair, and wore clothes like Rebecca Howe did back then?"

She said "No, I don't remember that.  I wasn't born yet in the 1980s."

This is the grim reality we now face in America.  Where even women who are as old as my wife weren't alive in the 1980s.  I asked her about the fashions of the 1980s, before she was born.  But today, rather than letting women just be women, we're left with the confusing fashions of the 2020s.

Mr. President, I'm sorry, can we move on?  I'd like to change the subject if you don't mind.  I know my appearance as a hologram from the future might be confusing to you, but while it doesn't make any sense in the world of man, it makes a whole lot of sense in the Kingdom of God.  And if there's one thing you could use back in 2029, it's more Kingdom sense.

Listen, do you remember Muon2?  He was a poster on Atlas many years ago.  A Republican physicist-legislator from the state of Illinois.

Naso: Illinois produced many great Republicans, beginning with Abraham Lincoln, all the way until Ronald Reagan and Donald Rumsfeld.  But in the 21st century, Illinois gave us Barack Obama, as many states--

I'm sorry, Mr. President, but I'm going to interrupt you, or else this conversation will never end.  Would you just let me tell my story, without nitpicking every little thing I have to say?  

Anyway, as you may recall, Muon disappeared years ago.  What you may not know, though you can check on it now that you're president, is that Muon had secretly been working on time travel research, at least as far back as 1983, when he was at Brandeis University.

[Naso leans back in his chair, clasps his hands together, and looks intently at holo-Bushie.]

Naso: I believe I understand what you're getting at.

You're saying that Muon was working on this research back in 1983.  In 1983, the highest rated show on television was 60 Minutes.  The second highest rated show was Dallas.  You believe that Muon and his time machine are located in Dallas, and that it is capable of transporting someone through time by as much as 60 minutes.

[Mr. Morden]

No, no.  You're not listening to me, Mr. President.  Can you try to focus on what I'm talking about?

I'm officially talking to you from the future.  I'm officially telling you that you're losing this war against the terrorists.  Things are officially bad in 2035.  But I can officially help you.  I can officially send you some reinforcements from the future with future technology, so you can officially win the war.  We'll send them from here in 2035, and they'll officially show up on the other side for you in 2029, at the location of Muon's time machine.  We don't know where the time machine is exactly, but we think it's officially being held by a crime lord in Salt Lake City called the Irishman.

We think he's holding it in some unofficial secret underground lab that was once used by Xerox, my former employer when I was in Salt Lake City.  But I don't know where that lab is.  Can't find any records of it.  You're president of the United States, so you must be able to use the NSA or something to find out where that lab is, so we can send in reinforcements.  If we don't know where it is, then we can't send you troops to help fight the terrorists, because they might show up inside a wall or something.

Naso: I understand.  You want to use time travel to help save America.  This raises an interesting question.  Does time travel work like in the 1980s Michael J. Fox film Back to the Future, where when you go back in time, you can change things around however you want, kissing your mother and introducing hooliganism to the Norman Rockwell world of the 1950s via skateboarding and guitar playing?  Or does it work more like the 1990s Bruce Willis film 12 Monkeys, where you can't actually change anything, and you just end up dressing like a hippie and getting shot?

It is a difficult decision.  On the one hand, Back to the Future epitomized the optimistic spirit of both the 50s and the 80s, while 12 Monkeys showed us the grimness that would plague America for decades to come.  Also, Michael J. Fox played Alex P. Keaton on a television show that glorified conservatism on a weekly basis.  In one typical episode, Alex was talking about finding a girl to date and telling his mother that he was going to have to "pick a date off the girl tree." Despondent, she said, "ALEX! The girl tree?" to which he sarcastically replied, "Oh...sorry mom. The woman tree." Again, there was no claim of a fictional "War on Women" or any outcry. In fact, one could claim that the audience, which by the way included the President of the United States, would applaud Alex P. Keaton's sarcastic tone against his liberal mother.



On the other hand, Bruce Willis was an actual conservative.  He didn't just play one on TV.  He also saved the world from being destroyed by an asteroid in Armageddon, at the cost of his own life.

That's nice, Mr. President, but we know how time travel works in 2035.  Through a little hard work and a lot of prayer, our best scientists know that it works the Back to the Future way, where you can change things.  Now it's true that whatever happens is part of God's plan, but once in a while, I guess He changes His mind, and you can go back and make things follow His plan better.

Now, will you help me by using your power to find out where that Xerox lab is?  Or is there anything at all that you can tell me about The Irishman?

Naso: Will I help you, using the powers of my office?  That's what it's about these days, isn't it?  Wealth, business, success...that's been the Capitalist backbone for our history. Communism, government control, socialism, all that crap is what the rest of the world does. We would have had a nuclear war before allowing our nation to embrace the ideals of communism.  Now we seem to have people who sit back and think, "Hmmm maybe it's not so bad if I can get free stuff..."

I'll tell you what I'm going to do, Bushie.  God helps those who help themselves, doesn't he?  So did Ronald Reagan.  I'm going to help myself by sending in commandos to Salt Lake City to find whatever secret Xerox lab might be there, and liberate the city for America.  I'll leave it up to America to decide what kind of time travel it wants, whether Back to the Future time travel or 12 Monkeys time travel.  Just leave it up to the free market, with no government intervention.  That is, no government intervention other than the commandos.

Wow, Mr. President.  Just wow.  Here I come into your office, looking for a little encouragement.  I have a plan for how to help you defeat the terrorists.  It might not be the plan that most people would make, but it works for me.  Just because it's different, doesn't make it wrong.  I may not be right that often, but I'm right more often than you give me credit for.

Naso: I admire your spirit, Bushie.  I'll tell you what.  Even though black and women voters would never support me, I would sometimes watch movies that included blacks and/or women.  One of those movies was a 1980s flick called "48 Hours".  I'll see what I can give you within the next 48 hours, and you'll tell me what you can do with it.  And if you can't make use of any information I provide, then I'll send in the commandos.

That would be great, Mr. President.  I appreciate it.

[Holo-Bushie then disappears from the Oval Office, and we cut away to Bushie's true location in a holo-imaging chamber, at some undetermined time and place.  We see Bushie about to leave the holo-chamber, but there's something off about what we're seeing.  Bushie is notably thinner than we've previously seen him.  And in fact, we can't actually see him per se.  The room is dark, and he's cloaked in shadow, so we can't see his face, but it must be him, because his voice is familiar, though he sounds more confident, as he speaks to an unseen person offscreen....]

BushOK: (to mysterious person offscreen) He bought it, sir.  Just like Hog and the others.  They think I'm talking to them from the future, from 2035.  And the hologram makes it look like I'm as heavy as I always was, if not heavier.  Plus I act kind of bumbling, like I used to when I was younger, so they don't think anything's up.

[And now we hear the voice of the mysterious person offscreen, but don't see him...]

Mysterious Person: Excellent.  So our dear Mr. President will help us as well?  Congrats, Mr. Bushie, on a job well done.  One way or the other, we'll find the Irishman, and that time machine.


TO BE CONTINUED....

[Okay, maybe Mike Johnson is a competent parliamentarian.]

WHAT A TWIST

[Mr. Morden]

Another one that'll have to be split into two posts because of length:


The Adventures of Hobo Orgy Guy and Blondie (....in progress)

Episode 12 "I Have Always Disincentivized Bad Behavior"

[We open inside a warehouse in Arkansas City, Kansas, just across the state line with Oklahoma, and a short drive from Blackwell.  This is a makeshift base for the Somali Islamic Courts Union, which is operating in Kansas along with expatriate Somali pirates.  An elder is currently judging the fate of a prisoner named Bandit.]

Elder: Why did you enter the territory of the Islamic Courts Union?

Bandit3 the Worker: This isn't Islamic territory.  This is union territory, though.  Or at least, this place was unionized years ago, and the union should still be functioning.  I don't know about any courts though.  But I wouldn't trust the courts in Mike Naso's America.

Elder: You don't act very apologetic, do you?  You won't beg Allah forgiveness for your sins?

Bandit3 the Worker: I don't need to beg any deity for anything.  We have a constitution in this country, regardless of what the right wing media will tell you.  I was just passing through on my way to an Occupy rally in Oklahoma City, and got stopped here by one of your fascist thugs.  He said you claim that justice here is decided according to sharia law.

Elder: It is indeed.  And you best respect it.

Bandit3 the Worker: That's a lie.  You listen too much to The Media, and they haven't been telling the truth about anything for decades.  Kansas voted for Lyndon Johnson in 1964.  I've seen the election returns in all subsequent presidential elections. and they've continued to vote for Democrats, but Republican rural votes keep getting "discovered" during the vote counting.

Now The Media says that this isn't even part of the United States anymore, and that Terrorists are running everything here.  Just another fabrication to hype the "War on Terror", and line the pockets of Haliburton.  I guess they can't figure out how to steal votes out here anymore, so they just pretend it isn't part of the country.  Well, even if it isn't part of the United States of America, it is part of New America.

Elder: My followers claim that you're a bandit.  That you were trying to steal fuel for your car.

Bandit3 the Worker: That gasoline belongs to the workers, not the--

Elder: Enough!  You admit your crime.  The penalty for theft is the amputation of your hands.  (to his followers) Take him away, and impose the punishment.

[Bandit is taken away by two of the Elder's Somali followers.  As he's led away, he screams...]

Bandit3 the Worker: I'd be able to handle the loss of my hands if I didn't live in Mike Naso's America, where there is no guaranteed health insurance, and.....

[And he's led out of earshot, so we can no longer hear him.]

Elder: (to the rest of his followers) And who's next?  Is there anyone else to be brought here for judgment tonight?

[With that, we see a large number of burqa-clad women file into the warehouse.  They are the Space Bikers, but they appear in burqas because it's the only way the Elder will agree to see them.  Yougo1000 accompanies them, and they also bring the captive Blondie in a cage.]

Yougo1000: 1937 Hoover is freed, but he's not president anymore.  Thomas Dewey is sworn in as president.

Lead Space Biker: Sir, we present this dog, J.J. (points to Blondie), who is known as the long lost dog of Bushie.  He will fetch a hefty ransom, which you can--

[As she speaks, we suddenly see eight of the Space Bikers who are hanging around the back of the room throw off their burqas.....except that they're not actually Space Bikers.  The ones who have discarded their burqas were actually Nym and several of his moderators: Ernest, Inks, Joe Republic, MasterJedi, and Tender Branson, plus Hog and RickRoll.  They'd been wearing burqas to blend in with the Space Bikers, having snuck in with the crowd since....well....it's hard to tell who you are when you're wearing a burqa.  As they reveal themselves, the Elder, the other Somalis, and the real Space Bikers gasp.]

Nym90: (to the lead Space Biker) Not so fast there ma'am!  That dog was kidnapped on my property, and I'm not about to let you get away with this!

[In reaction, several of the Somalis pull out guns, and point them at Nym and the other mods.]

Elder: How dare you intrude on these premises, and claim jurisdiction over the life of this dog?  (points to Blondie, in the cage)

Nym90: Sir, if you beg our forgiveness on our intrusion, I believe I can demonstrate our commitment to that dog, and perhaps convince you to set him free.

In my younger days, I would have resorted to violence to solve a problem like this, but I've moved beyond that now.

I now see that such matters should not be solved by the issuing of infraction points, or moderator reviews, or bannings, but through nonviolent means.  And those of us from the Atlas forum have one surefire nonviolent method for getting what we want.  MasterJedi?

[MasterJedi steps forward, and holds a piece of paper in front of him.]

MasterJedi: I hold here.......a petition!  It reads "Petition to free the dog 'Blondie', alternately known as 'J.J.'".  Each of us here has signed it by typing our names, and putting an "X" next to it.

[He trieds to hold it out to the Somalis, for them to take, but they all just glare at him, not making a move, continuing to point their guns at the mods.]

Elder: What is this?  Is this a joke?

Inks: I knew this wouldn't work.  These things never work.

Tender Branson: Oh, come on Inks.  It was worth a try.

Inks: Dave never read those things.  You think this guy would bother reading it?  These petitions are pointless.  We should have just PM'ed him.

Yougo1000: 1938 The West Bank, Oman, and Togo form a loose confederacy called the "WOman Togo Confederacy".  Ironically, they start exterminating all women.

[MasterJedi retracts the petition, slinking away from the Somalis.  Hog and RickRoll look at each other nervously, silently communicating to each other that they're worried about the mess that these moderators have gotten them into.  Hog is holding on to a rock, of the type that he's tried to throw at Bushie in the past.  RickRoll is looking around for some kind of weapon of his own.  He spots a loose plank of wood on the warehouse floor, and starts to make a move for it......

....when one of the Somalis sees him making what he thinks is a threatening motion, and shoots him square in the chest.]

*BANG*

[Mr. Morden]

[The bloodied RickRoll falls to the ground, and Hog rushes to his side, as tears well up in his eyes.]

RickRoll: This...reminds me of the time......in college with Bushie, when.....

Ah hell, I'm going to die, aren't I?  I guess I'll never get to see Mars for real.

(looks intently at Hog) Hog, I'm not going to make it, but there's something I have to tell you.  Something important that you must remember.

[Hog leans in, as RickRoll whispers this to him: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BROWqjuTM0g

Hog nods at him, as if he understands the truth of what RickRoll has said to him, and then the life drains out of RickRoll and he's gone.]

Nym90: (angrily) That man.....was a customer at my bar.  You had no right to do that.

[Nym begins to glow red, as sparks start to come off of his body, and the other moderators back away from him in fear of what's happening.]

Nym90: PERSONAL ATTACK!  YOU ARE PERMABANNED!

[Nym points at the Somali who shot and killed RickRoll, and red lightning bolts pour out of his hand, disintegrating the Somali before him, and reducing him to a pile of dust.  Other Somalis, and Space Bikers, pull out weapons and begin to fire on Nym, but the bullets just bounce off of him, as the red glow that surrounds him acts as a shield.  The Somalis and Space Bikers are flabbergasted by Nym's power, and some of them begin swearing in disbelief.]

Nym90: 10 Points For Profanity 10 Points For Discrimination / Hatefullness 10 Points For Inappropriate Behavior 10 Points For Excessive Hyperbole For Trolling For Personal Attack For Inappropriate PERMABAN For Profanity PERMABAN For Spam For Trolling For Copyright Violation For Personal Attack Permaban PERMABAN PERMABAN PERMABAN PERMABAN PERMABAN For Personal Attack PERMABAN PERMABAN PERMABAN PERMABAN PERMABAN PERMABAN PERMABAN PERMABAN PERMABAN PERMABAN!

[As Nym is screaming these punishments, red lightning pours out of him and disintegrates the bodies of all of the Somalis and Space Bikers, so that only Nym himself, the other moderators, Hog, and the still-caged Blondie remain alive.  The red glow then begins to fade in Nym, and the survivors look on at him in shock.]

Yougo1000: 1939 America is worried about the extermination of women, and Eleanor Roosevelt announces that she's going to run against President Dewey in 1940.

[We now see that Yougo has also survived, as has one of the Space Bikers.  They run for the exit, as the glow in Nym returns, and he begins to raise his arm to strike, when Hog attempts to restrain him.]

Hog: (to Nym) Don't!  What are you doing?  That's just a kid.

[Nym looks back at Hog, realizing what he's done, and relents.  The Space Biker and Yougo make it outside, hop on one of those hovercraft-like vehicles that we've previously seen them use to kidnap Blondie, and fly away.]

Joe Republic: (to Nym) What happened there?  How did you do that?  I didn't know you.....or any of us....had any powers like that outside of the Atlas forum.

Nym90: (in disbelief) I don't know.  I don't know what happened.  I just became very angry when RickRoll was shot, and.....whatever powers I had back in the days of the Atlas forum took over.  I don't know how this could have happened.

Ernest: Well, what's done is done.  We need to get out of here......

[In the background, MasterJedi is freeing Blondie from his cage.]

Nym90: (continuing to stare at the remains of all the people he killed) Yes, yes, you're right of course.  We need to leave, and get back to Oklahoma.  Hog--I know this must be difficult, with your friend having just died, but are you still planning on driving to Salt Lake City?

Hog: (nodding over at Blondie to silently confirm with him) Yes, we're still going.

Nym90: Here.

[Nym hands Hog a big wad of cash.]

Nym90: Congratulations, you won the dance competition.  Here's your prize money.  With RickRoll no longer with us, I guess it all goes to you.

You and the dog should drive back to Blackwell with us, and see if you can at least get a few hours sleep there tonight.  Then wake up early in the morning, and buy gas and food, and anything else you might need.  Then if you're really set on making it to Salt Lake City, try driving straight through tomorrow if you can.  It's a dangerous road, so better if you don't stop.

Ernest: OK, OK.  That's settled, so let's get out of here.

(everyone starts to file out of the warehouse, making their way to the cars they drove to get here, so they can return to Blackwell)

Nym90: Yes, of course Ernest.  Get everyone in the cars.  I'll join you in two minutes.

[Everyone but Nym has left the warehouse.  Nym, alone, continues to stare at the piles of dust that are the remains of the people he killed.  He is entranced by these remains, and sings a song about the "party" he's having as he dances through the ashes of those he "permabanned": http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e4NIF5HuiU4

He looks up, reflecting on the awesome power he has unlocked within himself.]


TO BE CONTINUED....

[Smid]

This is one of the best threads on here. I hope that you will continue it soon.

[Mr. Morden]

I'll definitely continue it, but at a slower pace than I started out with.  Real life gets in the way sometimes, and it also gets more complicated to write the story as time goes on, because I have to worry more about continuity.

[Mr. Morden]

The Adventures of Hobo Orgy Guy and Blondie (....in progress)

Episode 13 "I Do Agree That Sometimes God Speaks Through The Forum"

[We open on Blondie, wandering through an abandoned cityscape.  He's looking around, and he happens upon a handful of black youths, who are soon joined by Mitt Romney.  Romney poses for a picture with the young people, and exclaims....]

Romney: Who let the dogs out?  Who?  Who?

[Here's the video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pwLMUkkyXPo

Blondie was struck by the question.  Who let the dogs out?  Was Romney referring to him, Blondie?  Suddenly, Blondie saw Romney age rapidly in front of his eyes, and turn into a corpse, kind of like this: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WtcZv89Hspk

Blondie then realized that he too was aging rapidly, and started to grow a gray/white beard, and then.....

Blondie woke up.  The nightmare about Mitt Romney and the fast aging was just a dream.

He was just waking up from a nap.  He had been sleeping in the back of the Bushie family mobile home, which Hog was driving to Salt Lake City.  They had just left Blackwell, Oklahoma that morning, and were currently in Kansas, soon to pass into Colorado.  Blondie was awakened by holo-Bushie....]

J.J.?  What are you doing in here?  We don't have room for a dog in here.

Blondie: Bushie!  You're back.  Why did you leave us for so long?  RickRoll was killed.  Maybe if we'd had you here to guide us, that wouldn't have happened.

Hey, can you please stop attacking me for two seconds?  It's very rude.  I may not be doing things the way you would like me to, but my way works for me, and I shouldn't have to put up with this vitriol.  Now let's go talk to Hog.

[They move to the front of the vehicle to talk to Hog.  After some cursory re-introductions, and apologies from holo-Bushie about having been away for the past day, Bushie begins to explain to both Blondie and Hog the story of the troll territory that they're about to enter in eastern Colorado....]

The trolls began taking over eastern Colorado in 2013, following the Supreme Court gay marriage ruling.  Marylin Musgrave, Focus on the Family, and other social conservative groups in Colorado were furious that the Supreme Court was legalizing gay marriage everywhere (and making it mandatory in Oklahoma).  They started issuing trolling press releases attacking the decision.  Then gay marriage supporters started holding counter-protests, holding signs clearly intended to troll the opponents.

Then later that year, comprehensive immigration reform passed, which included a guest worker program for al Qaeda members, who were flown to Mexico and then marched across the border.  Tom Tancredo started trolling everyone in sight, as some sort of protest.  There was the Supermax prison break in Florence, so more trolling back and forth between the criminal and law-abiding.  Finally, there was a conference held in Denver for former members of the Atlas forum from the state of Indiana.  Don't know why they didn't just hold it in Indiana itself, but the moderation was most likely stricter there.  Anyway, many of those people are trolls, so it just added to the trolling problem.

Did I say "finally"?  I guess I did.  Well, actually, it's not "finally".  The icing on the cake was when the USA figured that they should probably stop trying to dump nuclear waste in Yucca Mountain, since there were too many terrorists there now, and they might try to make a dirty bomb.  So they started dropping it in eastern Colorado, since it was now controlled by trolls, and trolls aren't likely to make a dirty bomb, since they tend not to be very knowledgeable about nuclear physics.

Well, at this point, Atlas moderator Joe Republic decided to do a bit of trolling of his own.  He used the same hacking tricks that he once used to put the picture of a naked black man in Rochambeau's sig, and that he used to hack Keystone Phil's TinyPic account to modify his sig.  I mean, I don't think he was ever much of a fan of dumping nuclear waste in Yucca Mountain to begin with, though I'm not sure.  I think it was just a joke.  But he hacked some computers to give orders to the US Air Force to drop not nuclear waste, but sulfur, iron ore, and bad posts onto eastern Colorado.  That's right.  Colorado is now home to the Institute of Sulfur Mining and Extraction, the Irony Ore Mine, and the Deluge of Absurdity, Ignorance, and Bad Posts from the now defunct Atlas forum.  The trolls there love that stuff.

Hog: OK, OK.  So what are you trying to tell us?  Anything useful?

Well, yes.  I'm getting to the useful part.  You see....WHOA, wait a second!  Look at that snow outside!  Are you sure you want to be driving in this?  You should pull over, and stay in the nearest hotel immediately!

Hog: Yeah, yeah.  I don't like it either.  It's not much, though I don't really like driving in snow, but Nym told us not to stop because it was dangerous here.

Well, OK.  It's your funeral.  I mean, if the Lord is to call you home to His heavenly kingdom, you must be ready.  If He makes you slide on the slick roads, and have your vehicle blow up in a fiery crash with you inside, I guess that's His divine will, but hopefully, He'll judge you kindly when the time comes.  (turns to Blondie) Of course, I'm only speaking of Hog here, J.J.  Since the Bible doesn't say anything about dogs having souls, so you're probably doomed either way.  Though maybe it does, I just don't remember right now.  I'll get back to you on that one.

Anyway, yes, the useful part.  You mentioned it being dangerous here in Islamist-controlled territory.  Well, you'll soon be entering troll territory in Colorado, so that's also pretty dangerous.  I definitely wouldn't stop there.  But there's a gas station you can stop at just before the state line.  It's actually pretty safe.  Good place to stock up before entering Colorado.  The store clerk is an oracle, who the Islamists won't touch, because he gives them guidance regarding what the future might bring.  You should ask him about how your current journey is going to turn out, while you're there.

[Mr. Morden]

Blondie: Wait, wait a minute here Bushie.  What you say doesn't make sense.  A lot of what you've told us only makes a sliver of sense at best, and it seems like you're not telling us everything.  Why do we need this oracle to tell us what's going to happen?  Aren't you in the future?  Don't you already know how our quest is going to end?  Why isn't this road more dangerous?  The moderators at The Mars Bar seemed to think this trek was suicide, because the road was so dangerous, and patrolled by Islamists.  Now, granted, we've only been on the road in Kansas here for about five hours, and I was sleeping for a decent share of that time, but I haven't seen any Islamists, or any sign of anyone, have you Hog?

Hog: Nope.  No signs of life at all out here.

Blondie: You see?  Where are all these Islamists, Bushie?  We saw those Somalis back on the border with Oklahoma, but nothing since then.  What's going on?

And finally, what is the real story behind your helping us?  You're not telling us everything, are you?  Bushie, when we were in Blackwell, I met a kid there who said that when I went missing back in 2013, that led to everyone hating you for having mistreated me.  Hog said the moderators at The Mars Bar told him the same thing.  They said that America was distracted in the media circus, and it helped lead to the Islamists taking over the western United States.  That's what this is about, isn't it?  That tornado sent us forward in time, and so I was "missing" for all those years.  If we find this time machine, then we go back to 2013, I won't ever have been missing, and maybe things will turn out differently with the Islamists?  Maybe none of this will ever have happened?

Wow.  This is unbelievable, really.  I try to help you out here.  I'm doing everything you said you wanted me to do.  So I make one mistake, and disappear for a day, and one member of your party is killed, and you start grilling me with all these questions?  Well, I don't have to take this.  I'm going to go to worship service, then maybe I'll eat some supper, even though it's a bit early.

[Holo-Bushie is about to fade away as he returns to his holo-imaging chamber, but pauses briefly before doing so.]

I mean, when I say I'm going to worship service, don't take that to mean that it's Sunday when I am, just like it is for you.  Forget I said that it's Sunday, or that I mentioned anything about Sunday, or that I admitted that it's early enough in the day for supper, or that it would be too early for supper.

[And with that, holo-Bushie disappears again.

Blondie turns to Hog....]

Blondie: Well, that was weird.  Anyway, anything interesting going on up here?

Hog: Nope, just listening to this "book on tape" of Bushie's "Update" while I drive.

[Hog turns up the volume, and we hear the voice of Benedict Cumberpatch reciting from Update....]

Benedict Cumberpatch voice: Bushie writes "Right, it wouldn't have been officially overtime until Thursday and Friday, but now since the OT was cancelled today, I will one hour of OT between 4:00-5:00 pm Friday because of the hour I worked this morning before they cancelled OT."

WalterMitty writes "am i the only one getting the feeling that bushie is screwing up on this job?

i definitely not trying to be mean...but bushie you seem to be sick a lot."

Hog: I don't get it.  What's so interesting about this kid's troubles?  Nothing he does makes any sense.  What's with all these jobs he takes for just a couple of weeks at a time before quitting?  He just learns useless skills at each one, and then does something completely different the next week.  If he hadn't had his parents bailing him out all the time, he would have ended up like me, a hobo.

Benedict Cumberpatch voice: bullmoose88 writes "Not the only one.  I'm surprised they haven't pink slipped him already."

Blondie: I feel like we're not getting the full picture from him.  I don't know.  Something's not right. 

Hog: Well, you can worry to yourself all you like.  I don't really care.  I just care about getting back to 2013, starting up with the orgies again, and maybe helping to fix my memory, and figuring out how to stop being a hobo.

Benedict Cumberpatch voice: AndrewCT writes "It's because they can get around a year out of him. Since he is now a "employee" of Dell, they can have him work for about 6 months, than fire him and not have to pay unemployment, and start the process all over again."

Hog: OK, looks like that gas station that Bushie mentioned is up ahead.

[Hog pulls over at the gas station, fills up the tank, and goes inside to pay....and talk to the "Oracle" that Bushie mentioned.  He brings Blondie inside with him.  As they step inside, they see the gas station attendant at the counter.  He wears a name tag that reads "SAM".]

Hog: Hi there.....Sam?  We're at pump number 2, and would like to pay for that in cash.....But I also hear that you're someone who we should talk to about our future?

Sam: Yes, yes.  You've come here to get my unique insight about the future.  My name's Spade.  Sam Spade.


TO BE CONTINUED....

[Torie]

Thank you for my cameo role Morden. The chap looks a bit impecunious however. What happened to all my dough?  Yes, I know, it is probably held by a conservator because of insentience.

[Grumpier Than Uncle Joe]

Oh sure, bring up the Atlas' dearly departed, AndrewCT/TX/BIGDaddy. 

[Mr. Morden]

The Adventures of Hobo Orgy Guy and Blondie (....in progress)

Episode 14 "We Had A Wonderful Time Of Fellowship And Sharing"

[We open on the gas station, where the station attendant has just identified himself as Sam Spade.]

Sam: So, pump #2 it is?

Blondie: Wait a minute, aren't you supposed to tell us something about the future first?

Sam: A talking dog, huh?  I predict a lucrative future as a circus freak.

Hog: Look, we've come all the way from Oklahoma, and we want--

Sam: Ah, Oklahoma.  So you must be a f@ggot.  Where's your husband?

Hog: No husband.  It's just him and me traveling.  [points to Blondie]

Sam: Right, now I get it.  Man on dog. [looks at Hog, and then looks at Blondie]  So I guess you're trying to make it Canada then?  That's where freaks like you like to defect to, isn't it?

Blondie: No, no.  We're trying to get to Salt Lake City.

Sam: Ah, Salt Lake City.  So you want to join that insane cult known as Mormonism.  Figures, since you're a dog.  You already don't have a soul, so you're halfway there.  Maybe you can join Mike Naso's space program, and be the first dog in space to fly off to Kobol, or whatever the frak Mormons think that planet is.....Or maybe it's Xenu?  I don't know, I can't keep them straight.

Blondie: Listen, we're supposed to find some crime boss there named The Irishman.  Have you heard of him?  Can you tell us anything about whether we're going to make it or not?

Sam: Yep, I know exactly what you want to know.

Blondie: You do?

Sam: You want to get to Salt Lake City, which means you need to pass through troll territory, then more Islamist territory before you get there.  You want me to tell you if you're going to make it safely.  Then you want me to tell you if you're going to find this Irishman or not.  And in fact, you'd probably like me to tell you how to find him.

Blondie: Yes!  Yes, that's it exactly!

Sam: Yeah, that was pretty obvious.

Blondie: What was obvious?

Sam: That that's what you want me to tell you, genius.

Hog: Well?

Sam: What do you want now?

Hog: Are you going to tell us what we want to know or not?

Sam: Be patient.

Blondie: What do you mean?  You need time to get some sort of metaphysical inspiration, to help you see the future?

Sam: No, I'm just giving you advice here.  You should be patient.  Try firing up the synapses in that dog brain of yours to work things out on your own.

Hog: You mean you won't help us?  You won't tell us what's going to happen?

[Sam sighs loudly.]

Sam: Look, genius.  You don't need me to help you.  You already have the skills you need to solve whatever problem awaits you.  You can save the world from nuclear annihilation, or whatever it is you intend to do.

In any case, I think it's rather obvious how things will turn out for you, and I'm surprised that neither of you can see it....[pause]....Then again, you're from Oklahoma, so I guess I shouldn't expect much from you.

Hog: Pretend we're idiots then.  Help us connect the dots.

Sam: I've told you exactly what's going to happen.  What more do you want from me?

Look, if things are going the way I think they are, then one of two things will happen.  I think it should be obvious which of those is more likely, but I don't have to tell you that, do I?  I'm sure I'll be proved right, one way or the other.

Blondie: How can you be proved right or wrong?  All you've done is talk in circles.  You haven't actually predicted anything.

Sam: I figured you'd say that.  This conversation turned out exactly how I expected.  From the moment you asked me to predict the future, everything's gone just like I said it would.

Blondie: You didn't know that we were from Oklahoma, or that we were going to Salt Lake City, or that I could talk, and you called us f@ggots.  We had to tell you everything.

Sam: I could try to draw you a picture, to help explain it to you, but I didn't bring my crayons today, so it would be too difficult for you to understand.  Suffice it to say, you'll eventually see that I was right.

Anyway, that'll be $52.95.

[Hog reluctantly pulls out some cash, and pays for the gas.  Then he and Blondie make their way to the door.  Hog opens the door for Blondie, who then trots outside.  Hog is about to exit as well, when Sam calls out to him....]

Sam: Hell, you really are gullible, aren't you?

[Hog stops in the doorway, to hear what Sam has to say.]

Sam: You'll believe anything, won't you?  You came in here, expecting me to tell you your future, because some idiot told you that I would?  There are many liars out there, and you'd better learn to recognize them, if you're going to survive.

Hog: And who are you suggesting is lying to me?

Sam: The biggest liar is yourself.

[Hog retreats back outside with Blondie, and they drive away.  As they pull away, Hog again turns on "Update: A Book on Tape"....]

Benedict Cumberpatch voice: AndrewCT writes "Just work, that's it. I've heard cases on a lot from fairly high known companies that will practice these kinds of operations for call centers and help desks. They will have someone come in as a temp, and if they hire them they keep them for the 6 months, and fire. That way, they don't pay unemployment, and sometimes don't have to pay insurance.  It's pretty sad that they do it, but there is nothing illegal about it. As long as they have reasoning for the termination, they are in the clear."

[Blondie finally breaks the silence on the encounter they just had with Sam:]

Blondie: Yeah....that was weird.


TO BE CONTINUED....

[Mr. Morden]

The Adventures of Hobo Orgy Guy and Blondie (....in progress)

Episode 15 "There Were Stories Of People Falling Into The Same Trap"

[Blondie opened his eyes, feeling a bit sore, looking up at the sky above him.  Snowflakes were drifting down from the clouds above, but not in any great numbers.  He didn't remember how he had fallen asleep outside, but he was alarmed by the fact that he seemed to be leashed to....something.]

Hog: You're awake.

[Blondie spun around to see Hog, but immediately realized that he can't move very far, because both he and Hog were chained up to a large rock.  They were apparently being held as prisoners by....someone.  As Blondie looks across the landscape, he sees that they're in a canyon which is apparently also a sulfur mine, which looks sort of like this:



More disturbingly, the sulfur is being mined by trolls.  I mean, they really look like trolls, kind of like this:]



Blondie: What's....what's happening?  Where are we?

Hog: What do you remember?

Blondie: I.....we stopped for gas in Kansas, talked to that crazy "oracle" who worked there.  Then we drove away, and crossed into Colorado.....into troll territory.

Hog: That's it?  That's all you remember?

[Blondie nods.]

Hog: We left that gas station, and kept driving west.  We talked a little about what that Sam character had said, then listened to some more of that "Update" book on tape.  But I actually wanted to listen to the NFL playoff game.  I caught a glimpse of the AFC Championship Game that Sam was watching on the TV in that gas station, and--

Blondie: Can we skip to the important part?

Hog: Right after we crossed into Colorado, we had to slow down because of some speed bumps, as we went over a bridge.  There were trolls who came out from beneath the bridge and surrounded us.  They ransacked the Bushie family mobile home we were driving, and brought us here, and tied us up.  I guess you passed out, and just woke up now.

Blondie: Great.  Everyone wants to kidnap me.  First Space Bikers, and now.....

[A few of the trolls make their way over to Hog and Blondie, and one of them speaks...]

Lead Troll: Ah, you're awake now.  Welcome to the Institute of Sulfur Mining and Extraction.  My name's Hamilton.  This is Atheist2006.  [Atheist nods.]  This is Rochambeau....

Rochambeau: Yes.

Hamilton: This is poundingtherock.

poundingtherock: You two look like welfare cheats.  I'm sure you must belong to the Democrat Party.  Though maybe you're also Mormons.  We're in Colorado, so they're pretty much everywhere.

Rochambeau:

You must be logged in to read this quote.

Blondie: What was that?

Rochambeau:

You must be logged in to read this quote.

Blondie: There, you did it again.  You're just empty quoting people for no apparent reason.

Atheist2006: Don't mind him.  He just does that to drive up his post count.  If he just empty quotes what other people say, then he can get his count up quickly without any original thought.

Blondie: Well, it's really annoying.

Rochambeau:

You must be logged in to read this quote.

Atheist2006: OK, OK.  I'll distract him, and get him out of our way.  [turns to Rochambeau] Rochambeau, I think some of the other sulfur miners might not have been asked their opinion on Grover Cleveland.

[Rochambeau runs across the canyon, yelling at the sulfur mining trolls....]

Rochambeau: Grover Cleveland!  FF or HP?

Blondie: (to Atheist) Thank you.

Atheist2006: He may be a fellow troll, but I've never really liked him.  Since he's from California, he's probably a 's#!c.

I mean, sorry, is that the proper term?  I'm not sure, since English isn't my first language.

And no offense, Hamilton, on that California remark.  I wasn't intending to include anyone from Bakersfield.

[Mr. Morden]

Hamilton: None taken.  Anyway, moving on with the introductions, this is LBJ Revivalist.

LBJ Enthusiast: I may belong here as a troll, but I'm afraid that the troll leadership has been guided too much by Tea Party thinking.  When are we going to have decent unions here at this mine, or paid family leave or Social Security?  Should we look to Washington for answers?  I'm afraid Mike Naso's privatization schemes are just going to leave the working class further behind than ever.  What can be done?

Hamilton: Yes, yes.  Your concern trolling is appreciated, as always.  Moving along, this is kobidobidog.

kobidobidog: [to Hog] You're a mammal, just like me.  And just like your canine companion here.  I think your relationship is beautiful.  Whether the two of you have zoosexual sex or casual sex--

Hog: What?!?  Listen, there's nothing sexual about our relationship.  I'm not into Blondie here, and I'm sure he isn't into me either!

kobidobidog: Your dog companion may not be able to speak for himself, but that doesn't mean that he can't consent--

Blondie: But I *can* speak for myself!

kobidobidog: Ah, so you can talk as a human being can....like a canine Mr. Ed?  There's no reason to try to imitate human beings.  We are just animals like you.  I fear that if you try to speak like a human, then you're fighting a war against the Zoo.  But Jesus who is God sees that we are all animals, and--

Hamilton: OK, yes.  Moving right along...and finally, we have JSojourner.

[Hamilton points to the last person in the lineup, but he does indeed appear to be a "person" (a man appearing to be in his 60s) and not a troll.]

Hog: I don't get it.  You're not one of them.  Why are you here with these trolls?

[JSojourner hangs his head in shame.]

JSojourner: I may not be a troll myself, but I am burdened by these.

[JSojourner lifts his hands to reveal two sockpuppets.  Each of his hands is covered by a sock, made up to look like a troll.  He speaks through one of his sockpuppet hands, not unlike this:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2k64w3354kE

JSojourner (as KeeptheChange, his right hand sockpuppet) [in fake Pennsylvania accent] I'm sorry, but why are we keeping these prisoners alive?  They look like far left redistributionists.

JSojourner (as Coburn In 2012, his left hand sockpuppet) [in fake Ohio accent] They're probably democRAT Muslim agents who want us to apologize for America, or whatever's left of it.

JSojourner: You see?  This is what I've been reduced to.  I'm here because of these two.

[JSojourner then points both hands towards himself, so that both Coburn In 2012 and KeeptheChange are facing him.]

JSojourner (as Coburn In 2012, his left hand sockpuppet) [speaking to JSojourner himself] You're a collectivist.  You think that you can waltz in here to this sulfur mine, and get hand outs from anyone.  All because your body is attached to these hands.  Well, I have news for you.  KeeptheChange and I are the ones doing all the work here, and you're biting the hands that feed you.

Blondie: [horrified] Ooookaaaay.  Ummmm....you do realize that you're talking to yourself there?  Those are just your own sockpuppets that you're talking to.  What kind of conversation do you expect to have?

Hamilton: [to Hog and Blondie] Never mind him.  Anyway, now that you've met some of my companions, I'll also introduce you to this, the Deluge of Absurdity, Ignorance, and Bad Posts.

[Hamilton points behind them at a giant waterfall.  That is, when Hog and Blondie turn around to see what Hamilton is pointing at, they see that the canyon they're all occupying lies at the base of a large waterfall.  Except that it's not actually a "water"fall.  It's not water that is streaming down from the cliff that towers over them.  It's bits of data.  They see a black mist pouring down from the cliff above them, and falling down through the mist is a stream of green letters and numbers rapidly changing from one shape to another, like this: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2x7bdlDr2Kw

The letters and numbers fall onto the ground, and vanish into the Earth.]

Hamilton: This is what we're here for.  You see, my friends, we mine sulfur here, because we want to be able to burn our enemies.  But that's only part of our arsenal.  If we're going to launch an attack on Cheyenne Mountain, we're going to need to troll them with plenty of absurdity, ignorance, and terrible posts.  The Deluge here offers us a reservoir of all of the awfulness ever posted on Atlas.

[Hamilton pulls out an iPad, with a blank screen, and sticks it in the "Deluge", then pulls it out, with text newly appearing on the screen.

Hamilton: [Reading from the iPad] "What happens if there's truth to the lesbian love affair rumors?  Let's say Hillary seals the nomination and somebody comes forward claiming they were in a lesbian relationship with her. Well, what happens then?

We all know her marriage is a sham, and these rumors have followed her for over two decades now..."

I believe that post was actually written by Politico, back in 2013.

Atheist2006: What Hamilton is getting at here is this: The landscape throughout this part of the state is covered with trolls.  There are trolls, spambots, and sock accounts of every shape and color you can imagine.  But this valley is the gathering place of a very particular kind of troll.  We're the surviving trolls from what was once the US Election Atlas forum.

Many of our kind didn't make it.  Nym killed many of us during the dark days, in the final years before the plug was pulled on Atlas.  But those of us who survive have never given up our dream.....to sieze control of Atlas, and make it a safe environment for trolls of all varieties to wreak havoc as we see fit.

Hamilton: [getting emotional] The moderators, those war criminals, never let us be who we really are on that website.  Well, the game isn't over yet.  The last surviving copy of the Atlas website is being held at the NORAD installation in Cheyenne Mountain, just south of here.  The only remaining military installation controlled by the US government in this state.  When we've extracted both the necessary sulfur and the requisite supply of terrible posts from this valley, we'll attack Cheyenne Mountain, and sieze the Atlas, reconstituting it on the internet, as a place for trolls across the globe, under the administration of Atheist and myself.

Hog: That's crazy.

Hamilton: What?!?  You're calling me crazy?  That's a personal attack!  And it's excessive hyperbole!

[Hamilton looks around, and then yells up at the sky:]

Hamilton: Moderators?  Can we have a moderator here?  I want to report this poster for a personal attack!  We need a moderator here to deal with this immediately!

Blondie: What are you yelling about?  Why are you asking for a moderator?  I thought you hated moderators.

Atheist2006: If you really must know, you filthy son of a b!t(h, Hamilton is a bit of a split personality on that one.  He hates the moderators, but complains to them about the activity of other posters at every opportunity......[pause].....

I mean, sorry if I offended you by calling you a "filthy son of a b!t(h".  English isn't my native language.  What I said doesn't sound so bad in German.


TO BE CONTINUED....

[Mr. Morden]

Thank you for my cameo role Morden. The chap looks a bit impecunious however. What happened to all my dough?  Yes, I know, it is probably held by a conservator because of insentience.

To be honest, Torie, I haven't thought through that bit very carefully.  Though, I guess, in my timeline, when law and order started to break down in the Western US, including California, people started to make a mad dash for any place where there was still a semi-functioning government, and a lack of roaming bands of Islamist radicals.  You and other moderators in the US made your way to Oklahoma, and it's unclear how many of your assets you were able to take with you.

I guess, yes, most money nowadays is "virtual", and even if the bank burns down, they still exist on paper, so you should hypothetically be able to access it, but....who knows?  A lot of craziness has occurred in the USA in this timeline, so someone with $ in 2013 could have lost it by 2029 for any number of reasons.

[Mr. Morden]

The Adventures of Hobo Orgy Guy and Blondie (....in progress)

Episode 16 "I Know I Fall Short In Many Areas"

[We open at the Institute of Sulfur Mining and Extraction.  Hamilton is repeating his plea for a moderator to intervene, to punish Hog for calling him crazy.]

Hamilton: [pleading] Can we please have a moderator here right now?

Atheist2006: Easy, Hamilton.  There are no moderators around here.  You're wasting your breath.

[And with that, we see Nym casually walk up to the group, seemingly coming out of nowhere.]

Nym90: Someone here called for a moderator?

[The trolls react in shock.  Nym is here???  Blondie smiles, hoping that Nym, with his great powers, will rescue him from these trolls, just as he rescued him from the Islamists and Space Bikers the previous evening.]

Nym90: You want a moderator, you say?  Well, I'm happy to infract or mod review or ban anyone who's wronged you, whether by trolling, or excessive hyperbole, or whatever their transgression may have been.  Then I'll eat a big bowl of grapes!

[Atheist2006's expression goes from fear to relief.]

Atheist2006: Blubb, you're mixing up your characters again.  "Big bowl of grapes" is from one of your spoofs of Bushie.

["Nym" suddenly morphs into a troll.]

JSojourner: You ruined the joke, Atheist.  You should have just let him keep going, and seen how long it took for everyone else to figure it out.

[Blondie and Hog are looking very confused at this point.]

JSojourner: (explaining to Blondie and Hog) This is Van Der Blubb (pointing to the troll who just second ago looked and talked like Nym).  He's a troll, like all the rest of them.  But he's able to morph into, and imitate, any current or former Atlas poster.

[Van Der Blubb bows, as many of the trolls continue to laugh at his prank.]

Hamilton: OK, OK.  I admit, that was a good one.  All right, I think I'm OK now.  I won't cry for help from a moderator again for at least a few minutes.

Now....(turns to Blondie and Hog) we just got done telling you two about who we are.  But what about you two?  Why are you here?  Where were you driving?  Why were you driving out here, on your own, with no protection?

Blondie: We were headed to Salt Lake City.  Looking for a crime boss there named The Irishman.  have you heard of him?

Hamilton: Actually.....I have. 

There are Mormon missionaries that pass through here every once in a while.  They're trying to convert the Islamists, but they inevitably get themselves killed.  We don't bother them much, since they distract the Islamists, and keep them off our back.  Last couple of times we saw them, they had a kid with them named Yugo something.  He said something about some fugitive in Salt Lake City named the Irishman, who was in hiding.  The kid said that his father or guardian or something wanted to find the Irishman, because it was important for the history of the country, or some such nonsense.

Atheist2006: Never liked Mormons myself, or any other autochthonous American religions.  Maybe if we had parties like Die Freiheit or Pro Deutschland here in this country, then....

Hamiltion: That's enough, Atheist.  Let's not get on that again.

Blondie: So, sounds like you've heard of the Irishman then?  So if you let us go, then you can tell us where to find him?

Hamiltion: Of course not.  I don't know where this Irishman is.  And even if I did, we're not letting you go.

Blondie: (nervously) Why, what do you want with us?

Atheist2006: We intend to recycle you.

Hog: What???

Atheist2006: Yes, you heard me.  Recycling.  Every captive we take gets chopped up, and thrown into the Deluge, so that their organic matter can be reprocessed into terrible posts.

Hamilton: Well, not quite every captive.  Those who are suitable get turned into trolls.

Blondie: Turned into trolls?

Atheist2006: Yes, yes, you stupid canine.  You don't think we always looked like this do you?  We were human beings, just like your empty-headed friend here.  But with so much time spent trolling, we gradually transformed into literal trolls.  We're open to taking new recruits, but you and your friend are too clueless to understand the first thing about trolling.

Hamilton: (shrugs) Meh, wouldn't hurt to give them the test though, would it?

Atheist2006: I guess not.

OK, you two.  How about this question?  (clears throat) What do you think caused 9/11?

Blondie: I'm just a dog, I don't know anything about 9/11.  I'm only a few months old, and wasn't born yet in 2001.  Don't ask me.

Hog: I'm afraid I don't remember 2001 either.  I have amnesia.  Everything before 2008 is kind of a fog.

Hamilton: Holy f*(k, that was pathetic.  That's not how you troll at all.

Blondie: What?  I don't understand.  That was the test?

Hamilton: Someone asks you about 9/11, and there are a million different ways you can go.  You can give a Truther answer and deny the official government story.  You can go off on how all Muslims are terrorists, or on how the US shouldn't be letting anyone in the country anymore, or say that Americans deserve a bloody nose like 9/11 because of Imperialism.

Atheist2006: Or for that matter, you can change the subject entirely, and insult the mother of the person asking the question, or whatever you have to do, in order to be obnoxious.  But you absolutely do not just say that you don't remember.

JSojourner: Actually Atheist, maybe that would be trolling.  If they *do* remember 2001, it's an absurd dodge and attempt to deflect the question, which could be trolling.  I mean, "I have amnesia"?  Sounds like he was trolling, if you ask me.

Hamilton: That's a ridiculous excuse for trolling, JSo!  And why are you butting into this?  Atheist and I were conducting this interrogation.  You can't start in on this discussion thread!

[He yells up at the sky again....]

Hamilton: Moderator?  Can we have a moderator here immediately?  I have another complaint to make!  We want JSojourner out of this thread!

Atheist2006: Come on Hamilton, do you have to keep asking for moderators?  We haven't been on Atlas for years, there aren't any moderators around.  It's like you have PSTD, or PMSTD, or whatever it's called.  Post-traumatic.....I don't know what it's called.  English isn't my native language.

But that doesn't matter.  The important thing we've concluded from this is that these two (points at Hog and Blondie) would make terrible trolls, so we should just chop them up right now, and throw their remains into the Deluge.

LBJ Enthusiast: I'm afraid I can't allow that.

Atheist2006: What?  Who asked you?  You're not in charge here.

LBJ Enthusiast: That is.....if they're going to die, then their next of kin are going to need Social Security survivor benefits.

Atheist2006: (*sighs*) Once we set up our Troll Atlas, we'll sell premium memberships, and send some of the proceeds to their families.  It'll make up for whatever they would have gotten in Social Security survivor benefits if the US government was still operating out here.

LBJ Enthusiast: OK then, fair enough.  Go ahead and chop them up.

kobidobidog: Once you do that, if any of you wants to perform a sexual act with the dog's remains---if you are necrozoophiliac so to speak---I wouldn't judge.  That's not really my thing, but I don't think any of us would judge you for it.


TO BE CONTINUED....

[Mr. Morden]

The Adventures of Hobo Orgy Guy and Blondie (....in progress)

Episode 17 "You Can't Focus Your Eyes Too Long On One Or The Other Otherwise You'll Crash"

[We open, again, at the Institute of Sulfur Mining and Extraction.  Atheist2006 has just reiterated his desire to chop Blondie and Hog up into small pieces, and recycle their remains in the Deluge.]

Blondie: (nervously) Can't we talk about this?

Hamilton: There's nothing to talk about.

Unnamed Troll: Oh, but I think there is, Hamilton.

[Everyone turns to see a new troll standing before them.]

Unnamed Troll: Like why you don't deserve to be on the $10 bill, and why you didn't wear a bullet proof vest when duelling with Aaron Burr.

[The troll then morphs into a Japanese man.  Never mind how you can tell that he's Japanese.  Let's say that he's wearing a t-shirt with a map of Japan, colored dark green.]

Van Der Blubb: What's this?  Another shapeshifter?

Unnamed Troll....who's now a Japanese man: That's right.  You can call me Twister.  Heh, "Twister" perhaps a bit ironic, considering what happened to this dog's dog house (points to Blondie).

Blondie: What?  How do you know about that?

Twister: I know a great many things.  I've been working for the NSA for many years.  I'm especially familiar with all of you trolls here, having used my many sock accounts on the US Election Atlas forum to keep tabs on all of the criminal activity going on there over the years.

[Atheist2006 thinks for a moment, then has a moment of realization...]

Atheist2006: Yes, I remember you.  Aren't you a sock of A--

Twister: (interrupting) Please, please.  There's no need to say my name.  But suffice it to say, I'm quite familiar with all of your exploits.  I'm able to shape shift as well as your friend Blubb here, which allowed all of my sock accounts to evade detection for so many years on the Atlas forum.

I was on there for ages, and was able to report back to NSA on a broad range of criminal acts, from the widespread copyright violations perpetrated by posters around the world who improperly quoted online news articles, to the gold price fixing scam being run by J.J., to the intelligence operation being run by the PLA agent codenamed v0031, who was trying to gather information on proper English grammar to be taught to Chinese spies.

So yeah, I know who you all are, and have been watching you trolls from my posting at NORAD in Cheyenne Mountain.

Hamilton: Cheyenne Mountain?  Really?

Twister: Yes, yes.  And I know all about your pathetic plan to attack us there.

Hamilton: And you risk your life by coming here?  That's pretty bold.  What would give you the thought that you'd make it out of here alive?

Twister: What would give me the thought?  Do you even know what a thought is?  A "thought" coming from you is like pork coming from a cow.

But if you really want to know why I'm confident, it's because I knew I'd be safe here due to my coattails.

Atheist2006: Your coattails?

Twister: Yes.  My sudden appearance here provides such a strong jolt to the narrative of this story that it has coattails.  My friends are following me onto the scene on those coattails.....or should I say, megacoattails?

[Three costumed heroes quickly descend onto the scene from the skies.  They are an 86 year old man, a 76 year old woman, and a thirty something year old man.]

Twister: These are my associates, the Moderate Heroes: former US Senator Joseph Lieberman, former US Senator Susan Collins, and Benconstine.

Susan Collins: I'm delighted to be here, Mr. Twister.  Thank you all for joining us here tonight.  I think it's important that we make our voices heard here today, because trolling is an important problem that affects everyone in America.  Whatever moderate course of action can be taken to save an innocent's life from a troll is a step worth taking.

Joe Lieberman: I'd like to echo the words of my friend from across the aisle.  If these trolls are threatening the lives of any American, then we cannot sit idly by.  Though we must calibrate our response with moderation.

(turns to Hamilton, who is now wielding a large butcher knife) Now, Mr. Troll, what is it that you intend to do to this poor man here, and his dog?

Hamilton: We're going to slice them up into a million pieces.

Joe Lieberman: I see....you would like to slice these two into a million pieces?

Hamilton: Yes.

Joe Lieberman: (points to Hog) And you and your dog would presumably each like to remain in one piece?

Hog: Yes, of course we would.

Joe Lieberman: Then the perfect moderate hero solution would be for you to be sliced into 500,000 pieces!

Blondie: What?!?  How is that a perfect solution?

Joe Lieberman: It's perfect because neither of you quite gets what you want, but we get an outcome which is halfway in between your two preferred courses of action.

Hog: Well, 500,000 or 1 million pieces is equally terrible to us.

[Lieberman thinks for a minute.]

Joe Lieberman: Ok, Ok.  I have a much better solution.  You two (points to Blondie and Hog) would like us to save you from these trolls.

(to Hamilton) And you.....how many of you trolls would you use to chop them up into a million pieces?

Hamilton: Well, I think quite a few of us would like to get in on the act.  So maybe four.....myself, Atheist, Van Der Blubb, and poundingtherock.

Joe Lieberman: Ok then, here's the solution.

[Lieberman raises his hands up in the air.  He yells out....]

Joe Lieberman: By the power of Lowell Weicker and Dick Lamm!  Let us make a less than bold move for fairness and opportunity!  Extremism in the defense of liberty is a great vice!

[The sky darkens, and a bolt of lightning comes down from the heavens, electrifying first Atheist2006, and then poundingtherock.  While it doesn't seem to do any physical damage to them, they are immediately restrained in chains, and their mouths gagged.  They struggle to free themselves, but get nowhere.]

Hamilton: What....what have you done?

Joe Lieberman: I've used my moderate hero powers.  You said that four of you would kill Mr. Hog and his canine companion.  Now only two of you can do so.

Hog: How does that help us Senator?!?  Whether it's two of them or four of them doing it...either way, we'll still be dead!

Blondie: (exasperated, to Lieberman) I don't think you're really helping us here at all.  I mean, this is ridiculous.  These guys want to kill us.  We don't want to be dead.  There is no middle ground.  You three (motioning to Lieberman and the other two Moderate Heroes) seem to have enormous power at your disposal, and could save us if you wanted to.  Either you want to help us or you don't.  If you try to split the difference, you're just going to end up letting them kill us, so it's totally useless!

Benconstine: With respect, I don't think you appreciate our point of view here.  Every day, we turn on our televisions, and see Washington in gridlock.  Nonstop partisanship.  We must look out there across America, and recognize that no one political party or ideology has a monopoly on wisdom.  There's a little wisdom in every point of view.  If we can simply take all of those points of view, and find the midpoint between all of them, then we can use that midpoint as the basis for a more perfect society.

Hog: Ugh....that doesn't help us with our current situation.

Twister: Yes, yes.  I hear you.  My Moderate Hero friends here seem to have planted their flag on the middle ground between talking to a brick wall and talking to an nkpatel.


TO BE CONTINUED....