Newsgroups: alt.religion.kibology,alt.conspiracy,alt.nuke.europe,alt.nuke.the.USA Path: news.cinenet.net!news.ececs.uc.edu!news.kei.com!news.texas.net!www.nntp.primenet.com!nntp.primenet.com!news.mindspring.com!mindspring!uunet!in2.uu.net!uucp2.uu.net!world!kibo From: kibo@world.std.com (James "Kibo" Parry) Subject: Countdown! Sender: news@world.std.com (Mr Usenet Himself) Message-ID: Date: Thu, 12 Dec 1996 06:58:52 GMT X-Battlestar-Galactica-Date: 3671 centons, 79 microns, .01 hectars Content-Transfer-Encoding: 8bit Content-Type: text/plain; charset=ISO-8859-1 Nntp-Posting-Host: ppp0a043.std.com Mime-Version: 1.0 Organization: welcome datacomp X-Kibo-Machine: Vannevar Bush's Memex & Gene Roddenberry's Memorator X-Newsreader: Yet Another NewsWatcher 2.3.5 Followup-To: alt.religion.kibology Lines: 43 Xref: news.cinenet.net alt.religion.kibology:12049 alt.conspiracy:47286 alt.nuke.europe:4428 alt.nuke.the.USA:18637 S MINUS 1440 MINUTES. AND COUNTING. (little girl:) one missississipii, two misissiippi, three... (Lyndon Johnson slams his fist on the big red button) (Don Pardo's voice-over:) FOUR! THREE! TWO! ONE! (Vera Lynn begins singing "We'll Meet Again". Then the final scherzo from Wendy Carlos's "Tron" soundtrack plays at two thousand decibels. Fireworks go off everywhere, as sofa burst into flames from the radiant glare!) (P.A. systems rise out of flower gardens, doghouses, and Conan O'Brien's hair:) "YOUR ATTENTION, PLEASE. THIS IS A CONELRAD ALERT. KIBO'S .SIG HAS BEEN SIGHTED. IMPACT WILL BE IN APPROXIMATELY 1438 MINUTES. THAT IS ALL." Everywhere, people freeze in their tracks. Squirrels drop their nuts! In the distance, the only sound is a baby crying. Nobody hushes it. A car drives by at two miles an hour; inside a frightened salesman wonders what is happening. He loses composure, screams, and abandons the car, jumping into the river! A man starts tearing pages out of the phone book one after another. A woman tacks wax paper over her windows. Ominous clouds are gathering, slowly, deliberately. Menace hangs low on the horizon. Everyone looks at the sky, and wonders if there will be a tomorrow. A gigantic banner, blotting out the sunlight for half the world, drifts across the sky below the unseeing clouds. WE ARE EXPERIENCING TECHNICAL DIFFICULTIES, it says, PLEASE STAND BY. Everyone watches it, their mouths agape. With a sound like aluminum foil unrolling, a GIANT H peels off the banner and falls. Panic! Panic! Everyone screams! They run. The H flattens the Empire State Building. NBC is knocked off the air forever, but what does it matter? Somewhere, a scientist puts his arm around his voluptuous yet talented laboratory assisant's ample bosom. "We've survived," he warns, "Yet I wonder... is this the beginning of the last day for humanity? When the sun sets tonight, will it rise again?" "I dunno," says the chick. -- K. S MINUS 1435 MINUTES.