**************************************************************************** ### # # ### ##### ## # # # ## ## # # ### ##### ## ### ### # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # #### ### # # # # # # # # # ## # #### ### # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # ### # ## # # # ## ## ## ### # # # # # ### ____________________________________________________________________________ # # ### #### # # #### # # ### #### ##### # # ##### #### # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # #### ### ### ##### # # #### ##### # # ##### ### # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # ### ### # # # # #### # # ### # # # ##### ##### #### *****NUMBERS 121 TO 125***********BY DANIEL BOWEN (tcwf@gnu.ai.mit.edu)***** "Ironed flat Toxic Custard" __ __ \___ ___ / \ / \ \ the TOXIC custard WORKSHOP files \ \ \ \ \ \__ \ / \ NUMBER one-HUNDRED and TWENTY-one ..\___..\___..\_\_\..\......\../___..\................NINTH of NOVEMBER 1992... MR POPSICLE RETURNS! for the third episode in this decreasingly normal adventure mystery thingo With the heroes of the story having not even made a single appearance yet, and the victims of the story wishing they bloody well would show up quite soon, here is the latest news on the search for the plot: A Ruthless gang of people who quite like money are in the process of robbing an armoured truck at gunpoint. The gun was huge. I know you've probably seen all sorts of big guns S in your time. Gulf War footage, Rambo films, you reckon you've seen the h lot, right? Wrong. This gun wasn't so much big as it was vast. The top o of it scraped the ozone layer and it was entirely possible that if the c gun was held the right way, it could span continents. This was a bloody k big gun, and, had that joke about naming things as "fucking big xxxxx" , not already been done to death in previous Toxic Custards, this gun would have been named the "Fucking Big Gun". That's how big it was. It h also looked threatening, which was the other requirement that the gang o had been looking for in their purchase of high-class weaponry for the r modern fashionable armed-robber. After all, you can have the biggest r mother of a gun pointed at your foe, but it won't cut much ice in the o scary department if it's pink with pictures of blue elephants all over r it. , The guards were scared shitless. All the faeces they had been saving up for several hours considered the situation and decided g unanimously to immediately evacuate the guards' posteriors for the a hopefully sunnier and safer climes of their trousers. s The spokesman for the members of the gang holding the gun in the p guards faces had been decided by quorum several weeks ago, and his job ! was to announce to the frightened guards what their demands were, what the consequences would be if they weren't followed, and to generally add a few demeaning comments about their height, intelligence, T political stance and sudden smelliness. h This he did, and was relieved when, all according to the plan the e gang had put together one drunken night at the pub, one of the guards reached for the button to open the rear door of the armoured truck, p which was concealed in the nose of a furry toy on the dashboard. r Yet another member of the gang, who had been awaiting this very e moment by the rear door, was rather surprised at this point to find s himself almost literally drowning in the wads of notes that came i tumbling down on him. A colleague managed to throw him a line and pull d him to safety before they began the arduous task of gathering up the e money and piling it into the big bag (one of those ones that says "Big n Bag" on the side) they had brought along for carrying the dosh. t It took them almost an hour, and the story of their escape from the impending forces of goodness and sweetness and light and stuff is the h subject of the next episode in this series of episodes, which are a serially and numerically numbered, which will in fact make the next s episode number 4. See you then. a - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - i d [The following thankfully brief joke is written in "Cliched Oriental e Speech Difficulty Mode", for maximum laughs from minimum effort due to s emergency innuendo implementation] ! ! Conglaturations to Birr Crinton on his erection! - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - ( b Ironing. Don't you just hate ironing? For those of you who do do o ironing, isn't it just about the lowest of the low household jobs? o Well, not quite. But imagine, if you will, a nice lovely clean shirt. , It sits there, looking innocent, on the ironing board, just waiting for your steaming hot iron on "Cotton" setting (the setting that burns your h hands off if you put them within a two metre radius of the iron)... the i shirt sits there on the board, seemingly flat, just crying out for the s iron to run it over, a bit like a masochistic pedestrian. You pick up s the iron, and begin to run it over the shirt... smooth as (ironing) , silk, or so it seems... and just as you get towards the end of this genius stroke of ironing, the shirt begins to fold in on itself, and by a the time you've lifted up the iron, you've just ironed yourself a brand c new IRREMOVABLE crease in your practically brand new and probably quite t expensive shirt. Doesn't that just piss you off? You bet. u a - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - l l It has been pointed out to me that birds have only two wings. Now, y while this may undoubtedly be true, it can also be said that humans ) have two legs (each). What is the significance of this? Well, well may you wonder. It is in fact of no significance whatsoever, but who really cares? - it gives me an excuse to rave on about it for several paragraphs at a time, doesn't it. Yes, it most certainly does. Well, now that argument has been hatched, what to do about those small pains in the back of the neck that people get in the late afternoon whilst hunched over a computer screen reading what can only be considered to be Toxic Custard. Many favour the amputation of the head, but I prefer to think that the problem can be solved by a swift massage of the neck with a large rock, followed by an even swifter kick up the arse. That usually does the trick for me, the only disadvantage of this treatment being that it can't be self-inflicted err applied. Well, unless you happen to be rather good at that sort of bodily twisting and turning. But back to the eggs. Some people have commented that a boiled egg tastes more or less like peanut butter spread over a dog turd (or, if this prospect alarms you, a tog durd). This simply isn't true. I know. I've compared them. Following extensive lavatory tests, the conclusion that has been reached is that a boiled egg tastes most like the turd of a giraffe. Now, this might not be true, but the majority of you lot aren't likely to ever get the chance to prove me wrong. So it really doesn't matter very much, does it? ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ That was another Toxic Custard. I'm sure you knew that, but did you know that you can get back-issues? Just reply to this, or send mail to tcwf@gnu.ai.mit.edu for details. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Copyright (C) 1992 Daniel Bowen -- Daniel Bowen, Monash University | I often wonder who the hell invented Melbourne, Australia------------| sticky tape. And why the fucker couldn't daniel@yoyo.cc.monash.edu.au----| have taken that tiny bit of extra time to TCWF stuff: tcwf@gnu.ai.mit.edu | invent a way of finding the end. Yet another stupid and badly drawn cartoon, entitled "Not The Rainbow Warrior", is available to go with this issue! Just my luck if some smartarse newspaper cartoonist somewhere on the planet has already done this joke, but that's life. (oooh.. TCWF gets political! Watch out for those French farmers!) _______________________________________________________________________________ "Blue red and grey Toxic Custard" TCWFTCWFTCWFTCWFTCWFTCWFTCWFTCWFTCWFTCWFTCWFT Number 16th of CWFTCWFTCWFTCWFTCWFTCWFTCWFTCWFTCWFTCWFTCWFTC ___ ___ November 1992 WFTCWFTCWFTCWFTCWFTCWFTCWFTCWFTCWFTCWFTCWFTCW | ___| ___| Written by FTCWFTCWFTCWFTCWFTCWFTCWFTCWFTCWFTCWFTCWFTCWF.|.|___..|___.....Daniel Bowen.... HOW HYPERCOLOR(tm) WORKS Hypercolor, the revolutionary colour metamorphosis system (well, so A *they* claim), is storming the world in terms of colour-changing n clothing. Before, you had to fuck up the laundry to change the colour y of your clothes - now it changes with temperature! Great! But how does b this little miracle work? Well, we've found out how, and now you're o about to too: d Hypercolor clothing actually incorporates the skins of dead y lizards capable of camouflage. Specially bonded together with cotton, the skins are affected by changes in body and environment temperature, w and have the added advantage of enabling the wearer to be almost a invisible when lying flat on a tree trunk. n The espionage business has been quick to cotton on to the n advantages of Hypercolor clothing, and are even now negotiating to a purchase large stocks of Hypercolor trench-coats, suits, hats, and all those other things that spies mythically wear when trying to remain b inconspicuous during their spying activities. So if you see flickering u before your eyes, which you presume to be a disturbance in the y space/time continuum, it's not - it's some guy the CIA or ASIO or whatever has sent to keep an eye on you, walking down the street, with s his clothes changing to whatever's behind him. o Of course, there are rumours that the bonding process used on the m lizard skins and cotton has caused cancer in the laboratory pets err e specimens that it has been tested on. Hypercolor underwear, in particular, has been found to cause cancer of the testicle, causing at c least one gullible human specimen to have had to have his balls h amputated. Bummer, eh? e - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - a p THIS WEEK'S HUMILIATING EXPERIENCE: I bit my tongue, while eating a Freddo Frog. One or the other of my B bastard front teeth decided to draw blood; a bit like an introverted u Dracula. Bet you didn't know your tongue could bleed! So, how the hell l do you go about putting a band-aid on your tongue? I don't know, and g neither did the ambulance people. a - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - r i THE AMAZING(ly boring) "MR POPSICLE RETURNS" Part 4, *not* featuring a the amazing Mr Popsicle and his buddy Inspector Unnecessary-Violence. n The Ruthless gang, having now "requisitioned" all the money from a the armoured truck, are in the process of getting away from the scene i of the crime, before the police, or anyone else involved with the r forces of law and order decide to get all awkward and start asking questions about the robbery that they would have great difficulty in t answering. i The gang, now appearing in their third Popsicle episode, were c getting a little tired of being so casually referred to in the story, k and so were about to get formally introduced by name to the readers, e who would have to promise not to tell the cops (when they finally t arrived). After all, that would take all the mystery out of it. s The two gang members who have recently piled the money into a big ? bag are Jeff and John, twin brothers. The guy who announced their demands to the guards, who were in no position to refuse, is Alan. The S one who rigged the traffic lights in the first (or was it the second) a episode is called Tim. There's probably a few more, but we'll make up f their names as we go along. Okay? Okay. That's enough background e building stuff, now back to the story. And don't think that that r information will be of any use in guessing the ending, because all the names are fake; named after Coalition politicians. t Many attempts had been made by the gang to obtain some sort of h transport for their escape. After much discussion during the planning a stages that I keep referring to, a list of criteria had been drawn up, n including: speed, manoeuvrability, lack of distinguishing features, cool-looking-ness, the ability to enter the vehicle very fast (ie s preferably no doors), and the capacity to comfortably fit how ever many t gang members there were and a big bag of loot. The big gun would have a to go on the roof rack. n In the end, not even by checking out the "Getaway Cars Trading d Post", were they able to find, afford, beg, borrow or steal a suitable i vehicle, and so they eventually were forced to rely on their back-up n plan: bicycles. g Now, it must be said at this point that bicycles are not the ideal mode of transport for this particular application. While they have o their advantages for leisurely Sunday afternoon rides along the river, n down to the beach, around the park and up to the shops, they keep the rider fit, and are environmentally friendly, they are far from the best a all-time favourite vehicle for nine out of ten armed robbers surveyed in a national poll. And for good reason. Which I don't need to spell M out here. And even if I do, I won't. a Nevertheless, this particular gang, foolish as it may seem at both l first and second glance, had been forced into this option, if it is i indeed worthy of such an epitaph. So, over a period of a few days, b they'd stolen enough bicycles for the whole gang, ensuring that they u would be able to reach sufficient speed to escape the cops. Provided, of course, each member was able to pedal fast enough. The use of stolen b bicycles was important, to prevent them being traced back to the gang a after they were dumped. l The gang of course obtained bicycle helmets too. State law required c them, after all. As Alan had postulated at the time, "we may be a o ruthless gang prepared to fight to the death, to murder innocent n bystanders and not so innocent guards to get the money, but I for one y am not prepared to ride from the scene without a helmet on." , Tim was first onto his bike, but the others soon followed, speeding from the scene down the sidestreets, through the park, and away. By the a time the first half a dozen police cars converged on the robbery scene, n they had already switched getaway bikes and were well over two miles d away, making a nonsense of the ridiculously small and disorganised dragnet prepared to catch them. a l *Be prepared to catch the next episode of Popsicle in your* m *dragnet next week. (What sort of a pissy teaser was that??)* o *Well, it matched this week's episode, didn't it? (...Oh yeah)* s t ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ That's about enough of Toxic Custard for a this week. If you'd like the past TCWFs s to catch up with you, why not ask about back-issues! Reply to this message, or l send mail to tcwf@gnu.ai.mit.edu u ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ x Copyright (C) 1992 Daniel Bowen u -- r Daniel Bowen, Monash University | i Melbourne, Australia------------| I wonder where they find the oddly o daniel@yoyo.cc.monash.edu.au----| shaped potatoes they use to make u TCWF stuff: tcwf@gnu.ai.mit.edu | Pringle's... s _______________________________________________________________________________ "The Taking Of Custard 1-2-3" ___________________ ________________________________________________ | __ | __ | ___ | | ___ | __ | __ | ___ ___ | __ | __ |TCWF_ \ ||__|||__|| |___| | | |___| ||__|||__|| |___| |___| ||__|||__||123|_| | _|____|____|_______|=|_______|____|____|_____________|____|____|_______/ o o o o o o ############################################################################### MRS IRENE BUSYBODY'S HUSBAND, FRED BUSYBODY, SPEAKS OUT ON... I Ties. Now, I for one very rarely have to wear a tie, which is just as ' well, because they cause me to break out with large green lumps all v over my neck. Why is it that even given the most appallingly hot and e sticky weather, when everyone and everything is sticking to things in a disgusting sweaty sort of a way, why is it that some situations still j insist on the wearing of ties? It's not as if the simple tie actually o achieves anything practical, is it? Ties weren't designed to protect i your feet from sharp objects on the ground. They weren't conceived to n prevent your arms and legs falling off from frostbite. They weren't e even thought up to stop soldiers wiping their noses on their jacket d sleeves for heaven sake. No. Ties actually serve no logical or practical purpose whatsoever. Which makes them surplus to requirements A in the department of useful clothing (Men's division). . I wouldn't mind so much, but ties are a bugger to put on. I mean, A quite apart from the complicated process of tying them, which forces . every schoolboy who ever has the misfortune to have a school tie to : practice it constantly, and occasionally get mercilessly teased for having put the wide bit the wrong way through, or for getting the wide A and thin bits the wrong way around. Quite apart from that, there is the r inexorable question of *length*. It takes more than the average human s mind can muster to make the calculations required to get the length of e a tie right the first time. You stand there with the tie hanging around h your neck, trying to line up the thin bit with the correct shirt o button. And you can never remember *which* shirt button it should be l lined up with. And chances are, if you have managed to remember this e most prized piece of knowledge, it doesn't apply for the shirt you have s on. So you think you've got it sussed, and you do the twiddly bit with A the fingers. And voila, a tie three feet too long, drooping down over n your knees. And what really pisses me off is the fact that this never o happens when you're taking it easy, with 45 minutes to spare. Oh no, n it's like the tie *knows* you're in a hurry when it decides to do the y old random length bit. It's sitting there thinking "well, he's got to m leave in 5 minutes, so if he screws up the length more than a few o times, he'll miss his bus and be late." And so the tie goes into u action, and, in mid-Windsor knot, suddenly throws itself with all the s energy it can muster, a fatal inch downwards. . - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - M e MR POPSICLE RETURNS - Part 5 e t At the end of the previous few episodes, a Ruthless gang had robbed an i armoured truck piled full of money, and made their way from the scene, n not being over-eager to relinquish their freedom at a time which, it g must be said, they were hoping to enjoy the huge amount of money they s had just grabbed. The local police went into action immediately the alarm was raised. b First, they finished their doughnuts and pizza, then they got to the e end of the card game, while the sergeant solved his Rubik's cube. Then g they went into action. The local police station, Dung Hill, was well i known in the force as being one of a few new "spoof" police stations on n trial by the government. Dung Hill's cops were a mixed bunch of psychopathic lunatics, the w mix being in their sizes. They ranged from 5'5" to 6'5". They were led i by Inspector Andy "Pandy" Mongol, whose accent was always entertaining t to the men. Slightly more bald than the rest of them, he was always h ready to book a motorist for leaning a little too far to the left in his seat, and had taken out the police force's prized Most Pendantic e Officer Award for the past two years running. v Sergeant Bob "Bignose" Crucifyer was generally in charge while e Inspector Mongol was busy in his office re-arranging files, which was r most of the time. Bob was always ready to discuss personal matters with y the troops, and more than ready to covertly sell the story to the o newspapers. More than once Dung Hill officers had been surprised to n read that one of their number was "Copping Chunky Cocks In Cautious e Carlton Club!" And the constables, Dave Quickshot, Tony Stamphead, George s Scarfield and all the rest could all be depended upon by the sergeant a and inspector to perform their law-enforcing duties zealously, y pedantically, forcefully, and to occasionally over enthusiastically i cause havoc to life and limb. Usually limb. So when they got the call n about the armed robbery, they were rapt. They sped off in their cars to g the scene, sirens flashing and lights blaring. Dung Hill used the latest patrol cars, the Ford Bastardmobile police car, equipped with a " gearbox that goes up to eleven, super-loud "Deafno" sirens, and the M very latest developments in shiny checked blue and white bits. The new y shiny checked blue and white bits were in fact so shiny that pedestrians could see the police cars coming, and almost had time to n think about getting out of the way before they got run down. a As it is, the police cars didn't run anybody down on the way to the m crime scene, although they did managed to squash two of the armoured e truck guards when they got there. Tony Stamphead and Dave Quickshot got there first, and immediately began pushing everyone around, telling i them to keep the area clear, and generally throwing their weight s around, like they'd been told to in basic police training. They, having the brains of very small slugs, wouldn't be carrying out the J investigation into the robbery. That would be up to a defective err e detective. f Inspector Sideburn, a detective from Dung Hill, arrived shortly f afterwards. Sideburn, balding even more than Inspector Mongol, was , prepared for this case, and quite ready to walk around the crime scene in his overcoat, looking tough and trying to pass himself off as a important, by getting the constables to lift the cordon tape up for him n as he passed under it. Yes, he looked important and tough all right, d but could he solve the crime? I *Fat chance! If he solves the crime, when and how will we introduce* ' *hero Popsicle into the story? Stay tuned, if you can be bothered.* m ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ a Toxic Custard is kaput for another week. If n you're the type of warped individual who'd like to check out the TCWF back-issues, then a send mail to tcwf@gnu.ai.mit.edu for details. r ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ s Copyright (C) 1992 Daniel Bowen e -- h Daniel Bowen, Monash University | It was all Andrew's fault- he o Melbourne, Australia------------| was cavorting with an old flame l daniel@yoyo.cc.monash.edu.au----| in the castle. e TCWF stuff: tcwf@gnu.ai.mit.edu | . " Yet another regretable picture, simply entitled "Despair", is *NOW AVAILABLE!* This doubtful picture by an artist of dubious repute can probably be obtained from the same place you got this. _______________________________________________________________________________ "Laughable Toxic Custard" ___ ___ ____ _____ __ ____ \/ // \\ // ||__ /|| // \\ // || 30th November 1992 ||oxic ||ustard \\//\//orkshop || iles || _,// ||__||_ Written in haste || \\___ \/ \/ || _||_ //____ .||. by Daniel Bowen JUST WHEN YOU THOUGHT THERE WAS NOTHING ON THE TELLY TONIGHT... Beginning tonight on Channel Seven, "SOD ALL". A sweeping multi- million-dollar mini-series about the life and times of Alexander Sod, S cobbler of 1880's Collins Street. Based on Sod's own diary of his life. i He lived, he loved, he shined, he cobbled, he exaggerated. Starring d Nicole Kidman as the woman he loved, but never knew, because they never e met. With Oliver Reed as Trevor McPiss, the drunk who used to urinate w all over Sod's shoe-shine every Wednesday night. And introducing Martin a Cutelittlekid as the fictional son he never had. Starring Michael y Bigamericanstarbroughtintotryandgettheshowsoldoverseas as Alexander s Sod. A man of passion, a man of truth, but overall, a man of shoes. Brought to you by Reebok, "SOD ALL", tonight on Channel Seven. m e - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - s s BOOK REVIEW - "CREATIVE POTTERY", BY PETER COSENTINO a g Peter Cosentino, author of "Creative Pottery", writes on page 100 in e the section on making jugs, that traditional jugs have gently-swelling s bodies that narrow at the neck and flare open at the rim. That's as may be. But to claim later on that many jugs are still made using this g basic shape, is complete crap! Flares are OUT, man! Flares went out e like 15 years ago. This Cosentino bloke should have been strangled t violently at birth for daring in his later years to hold such views. Who is this man, who would be so bold as to try and convince OUR r children, the innocent youth of today, that jugs with flares are still e fashionable?? I bet he wears corduroy ALL THE TIME, that's what kind of a man he is. l This intellectual goat then goes on to say, on page 108, that, and l I quote the brainless twerp: "an electric kiln is the best all-round y choice, as it is easy to operate and maintain." What bollocks. He fails completely to mention the fact that electric kilns have dangerous b side-effects on the USERS of the pottery baked inside them! Electric o kilns are known to directly cause premature aging, inflation of the r testicles, and cancer of the inner-nostril. And that's been i conclusively proven in lavatory tests. So, Mr so-called Peter n Cosentino, you can shove your fucking electric kiln up your big fat g arse. s - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - o m MR POPSICLE RETURNS (eventually) - Part 6 e t Inspector Sideburn was on the scene of the armed robbery, a quiet i little suburban street with 10 newly-arrived cop cars, an armoured m truck, a couple of scared guards and a lot of missing money. It was his e job to carefully cull the clues from the scene, thoughtlessly question s the victims, to patch up a case from circumstantial evidence against . people who couldn't possibly have done it but whom he has grudges against, argue with superiors and colleagues, go off on his own and W heroically catch the real robbers by breaking all the rules, come back h to a hero's welcome, shout everyone down the pub, and sleep with the a secretary he'd eyed at the start of the story. That was his job. t Sideburn had done it a thousand times before, and would probably do it ' a thousand times more, before retiring from the police force at the s recommended "two thousand robberies solved" mark of his career, with a very fat pension at the taxpayers' expense. s Of course, this robbery was different, but Sideburn wasn't to know o that. Only the readers knew it was different, and even they didn't know HOW it was different. Most of them didn't care anyway, they just read g this crap to pass the time. The author wasn't overly concerned about o it; he just hoped in vain to get a few laughs. o Sideburn surveyed the area, and drew up one of those detailed, d technical, and very messy diagrams showing where and what all the clues were. So that when all the plastic bags containing the evidence got a lost between the police station and the lab, he'd still have a record. b A copy of the diagram is not available by request. Instead, a brief and o badly-flowing narrative describing his survey of the scene (54% of u witnesses said the truck was white, and 92% claimed they hadn't scene t anything, but were hanging around to be nosy) and discovery of the clues is available without even having to ask, and appears as follows t right here: h The truck wasn't in an ideal state for an armoured truck carrying a e large load of money. For one thing, all the money was missing out of the back, but that was to be expected in the circumstances. There were r in fact a few loose notes, which Sideburn pocketed for forensic i analysis and later spending. A single sparkling bicycle clip lay beside g the back of the van. It gleamed and shined in the sunlight, almost h blinding anyone who glanced at it. t After sniffing around the back of the van, Sideburn sniffed again, - his nose catching on a nasty aroma in the same way that a small cute h furry animal catches on a nasty piece of barbed wire. He followed the a lead of his nose to the rather unpleasant source of the smell, the two n obviously scared guards in the cab. Their story would be revealed d later, in a later episode, after this one. A bucket full of soapy water lay nearby, thoughtfully placed upright to prevent the water running m and hiding somewhere until the heat was off. a Sideburn made his way over to the traffic light, still showing red, r and found the open control box, with lots of flashing Technicolor(tm)- g type lights (?!) inside, and some obviously fiddled-with controls. To i Sideburn, a cop whose experience with electronics was equal to that of n small slug, it looked like the controls of a type V27 flying-saucer. But the best clue of all was yet to come. It was the one clue which a would provide the best path for investigation to follow. The clue which n pointed to the gang better than any other could. It was a trail of y money leading away down the street, which had obviously fallen out of w one of those annoying holes you don't notice until three hours later, a in the gang's bag. A mysterious and sudden second hole had obviously y materialised in their bag, the first hole being the one at the top that ? you use to put stuff *in* the bag. Sideburn, upon spotting the trail, wisely decided to dispense with formalities, and took off his tie before climbing back into his car and following the trail, not only hopeful of catching the robbers, but also hopeful of picking up a few of the higher denomination notes along the way. *This rather boring story continues next week* ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ End. Back-issues? Details from tcwf@gnu.ai.mit.edu ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Copyright (C) 1992 Daniel Bowen -- Daniel Bowen, Monash University | The TCWF tradition of crappy computer Melbourne, Australia------------| pictures continues, with "Anger", daniel@yoyo.cc.monash.edu.au----| available from wherever you found TCWF stuff: tcwf@gnu.ai.mit.edu | this crap. _______________________________________________________________________________ "Fashionable Toxic Custard" _ _ _ _|_ _ |_ | | | toxic custard workshop files - number 125 | | | | | | _| |_ 7th december 1992 written by daniel bowen | |_ |_|_| | | |_ _| (in a moment of extreme foolishness) CLEO - December Including great sex tips! COSMOPOLITAN - January W With terrific sex tips! H CLEO - February I Our best sex tips ever! L COSMOPOLITAN - March E Better sex tips than Cleo! CLEO - April Y Sex tips twice as seductive as O Cosmo! U COSMOPOLITAN - May Cleo's sex tips look almost virginal W compared to ours! E CLEO - June R Sex tips that'll have your tongue E hanging out! COSMOPOLITAN - July L Orgasmic sex tips to send you into O ecstasy just reading them! G CLEO - August G Just glancing at the cover of the E magazine will have you panting D with lust! COSMOPOLITAN - September O Featuring free fantastic fleshy U flaming fondling, foreplay, fucking T frenzies! T - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - o x I got ribs...they're multiplyin' i And I'm losin' my hip c For the limbs you're supplyin' It's electrifying! C u You'd better scrub up s 'Cos I need transplants t And my heart is set on yours a r You'd better scrub up d You'd better understand That my heart must go in you c (No limbs left, no limbs left for me to do) a l You're the one that I want l (You are the one for hoo hoo hoo) e You're the one that I want d You're the one that I want . You've what I need W Oh yes indeed... e - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - w i NEW! EXCITING! PREDICTABLE! l Yes, it's the latest in fashion from the TCWF weekly Style report: l WHAT'S IN---> British tv shows about fictional Prime Ministers WHAT'S OUT--> Using car indicator lights c a - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - l l MR POPSICLE RETURNS - Part 7, and still establishing the plot o Incredible detective (though not as incredible as the non-appearing Mr n Popsicle, of course) Inspector Sideburn of Dung Hill police has wisely decided to follow the (literal) trail of money leading from the robbery y scene, under the not unreasonable belief that this will lead him to the o robbers. Unfortunately for him, and for those readers hoping for a u speedy end to this most dull of Popsicle stories, the trail stopped r several streets away, where it was apparent that either (a) the money falling out of the bag had run out, or (b) the gang had spotted the a dropped money and plugged up the bag with a handy bag-repair plugging c kit they just happened to have with them. c Since the amount of money that had been stolen was quite o phenomenal, even to a highly paid and highly corruptible policeman like u Sideburn, he deduced, correctly, that option (b) was the more likely of n the two options available. Of course, had he been a super-detective of t the calibre of Sherlock Holmes, Miss Marple, Columbo, Philip Marlow or Mr Popsicle, he would have thought of (c), which was unlikely, but a possible. (c) will not be revealed to you lowly readers for the moment. g Just let your imaginations run wild. As usual. a Sideburn called in the sniffer dogs to try and pick up a trail. i This would have worked well, apart from the fact that under a police n economising drive, there weren't any sniffer dogs available. He could only get sniffer hamsters. Sniffer hamsters were far from ideal for n most sniffing work, and tended to run into people's gardens and eat all e their alfalfa. They also couldn't move at high speeds. Attempts had x been made to breed hamsters with long legs and a disliking for t alfalfa, but as yet, nothing had been successful. In fact, one of the attempts had managed to gnaw his handler's finger off before being w restrained with a shotgun. e To cut a long story slightly less long, the hamsters could find no e trace of the robbers, and the handlers decided to abandon the search k after merely seven hours. Which left Sideburn in something of a quarry. . Oops, I mean quandary. He doesn't reach the quarry until part nine. How will Sideburn fulfil his promise to beat up some suspects by episode eight? Find out how, next week! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Your eyes have once again come upon the end of another Toxic Custard. Back-issues are still available; reply to this, or send email to tcwf@gnu.ai.mit.edu for details. Seeya next week. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Copyright (c) 1992 Daniel Bowen. -- Daniel Bowen, Monash University | This week's TCWF cartoon, breaking with Melbourne, Australia------------| two weeks of tradition, is entitled daniel@yoyo.cc.monash.edu.au----| "Irony On Wheels", and is available TCWF stuff: tcwf@gnu.ai.mit.edu | from wherever you found this junk. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ the Toxic Custard Workshop Files by Daniel Bowen, Melbourne, Australia Copyright (c) 1992, 1993. May be freely reproduced without profit provided this notice remains intact. 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