Ü ÜßÝ Ü Ü Ü ßÝ ßÝ Ý Ý Ý Ý Û Ý Ý Ý BLaH Ý ß Ý ÜßÜ Ý Ý File ÝßÜ Ý ÜÝ ÝßÝÜÝ Written March 20th, 1993 #036 Ý Ýig Ýong ÜßÝ Ýnd Ý Ýairy Ý Ý Ý Þ Ý Ý Ý ÝÜß ÝÜÜÝ ßÜÜßÞ ÜÝ ÞÜ Presents Ú ÄÄ ¿ "Fear and Loathing in Cyberspace" ³ by ³ Constantine À ÄÄ Ù Fear and Loathing in Cyberspace Part One : Gibson Rolls in His Grave I hate these undercover jobs. There I was, sitting at the bar at a seedy dive called Pandora's Box, surrounded by 12-year-olds packing heat. Most of them had credits that they hung on their handles like war medals-- FTL, ThG, PaNzY-- mine were fake, but they got me through the front door. If any of these people found out I was a field reporter for BLaH, I was as good as formatted. Next to me, a kid by the name of HaCkErSuPrEmE was bragging about his latest score-- he had a pirated copy of Little People Farm II, BEFORE it had been programmed. Attempting to make friends with the locals, I patted him on the back and said, "Hey, you're a K-RaD d00d!" All sound in the bar stopped, as a hundred pairs of eyes turned to regard me. I realized my cover had been blown as the kid squinted at me and said, "What do you mean, K-RaD?" "Well, you know... K-RaD." "No, I _don't_ know. Maybe it's me, I'm a little fucked up maybe, but what do you mean K-RaD?" "Well, like how you trade warez and things..." "Hey," said another geek from the back, "He didn't mean anything by it--" "Shut up, Foster!" the kid said, turning back to me. "K-RaD how? Like I'm a fucking WareZ geek? Like I'm here to upload? What do you mean, K-RaD?!" Our eyes locked, and I suddenly realized he had been putting me on. I started to laugh hysterically. That's when he pulled the virus on me. I knew it was going to be a bad day. *** Earlier that morning, I had woken in my chambers at Evermore Keep [312/476/1508[ShamelessPlugNote[TM]]] to find a piece of email from our fearless leader, Guido Sanchez, shoved under my door. It read: "Connie: Some new warez group called PeNiS claims that they're going to destroy the world in two weeks. Phrack and 2600 are trying to get an interview with their leader, who is purportedly protected by a web of intrigue, a network of fanatically loyal assassins, unlimited resources, eighteen miles of barbed wire fencing and minefields, and a really big dog. Would you pop on over there sometime before lunch and get an exclusive interview? Thanx, Gweed." I deleted the email and cursed under my breath-- this was DEFINITELY going to put a dent in my TradeWars game. *** I got off the barstool and stared the punk down. He had a Saturday Night Special, an over-the-counter virus that reeked of VCL 1.0 coding. No matter, it could still put a hole in me that all the cheap WareZ in the net couldn't fix. Reflecting that this might not have been the best place to come for information, I quickly pulled out my own trump card. There was a chorus of gasps from the crowd. "It's a Whore virus!" cried one dough-faced warez geek. "That's right," I snarled, waving the Whore at the crowd, "You know the reputation this thing has, and you know what it can do to you. One false move and I format this whole bar!" The punk held steady. Our eyes locked. "Feeling lucky, geek?" I said. He put the virus down, reluctantly. I quickly sucker-punched him and ran for my life, leaping over the bartop and out the back door as the WareZ geeks howled for my blood. My term program was waiting outside, a cherry '91 Telemate 2.0 Registered with the motor running. With the squeal of 2400-baud tires, I was out of there in a flash. *** Back at BLaH headquarters in Evermore, a familiar face was waiting for me. "Hey!" I cried with joy, "Nowhe--" "SHHH!" he said. "I'm incognito. Call me Lemuel." "Le Mule?" "Lemuel." "Whatever turns you on. Have you got any info on PeNiS?" "Well, it's rather large and--" "The GROUP!" "Oh... Ever heard of the Obloid Sphere?" I had. It was a nightclub downtown, undergoing some high-speed remodeling. People said he was turning Elite. "I know of it." "The sysop's a guy named James Hetfield. Sounds like someone is putting the strongarm on him to go 14.4-- check it out." "Could be a PeNiS behind it... I'll see you later." *** It was a short jaunt to the Obloid Sphere [708/965/3098[Extra ShamelessPlugNote[TM]]], and a shorter jaunt to the back door, where my credentials as a Telegard Team member let me in. The place was thick with the dust of new construction work, and I saw something like file vaults being built in the back of the room. "Son of a bitch," I said, "He's going WareZ." That was all I got out before a trojan horse hit me from behind, sending me crumpling into blackness... TO BE CONTINUED... Stay tuned for the next installment of "Fear and Loathing in Cyberspace", coming soon to a BLaH Sig(h)t near you! Next up: Part Two-- Superman's Rotting Corpse! (---End of File. Propaganda Ensues.---} Huzzah for Connie for releasing another file.. if you haven't gotten the BLaH Ejaculation file that heralds our cumback, check it out at THESE BLaH ts.. Battle of Evermore <312>476-1508 The Obloid Sphere <708>965-3098 Nun-Beaters Anon. <708>251-5094 He wants the eggdish... I am the waitress! {---I don't think they're doing it on PURPOSE... ---}