Synergy - June 1998
Be Random - Created at Picocon 17
(page 14/15)

BE


It was a dark and stormy night.

The chocaholic vampire finished eating the corpse lay at her feet

and she cheered heartily the custom of giving chocolate bunnies at Easter

until that terrible outbreak of Cocoa-Spongiform Encepalopathy.

CSE was the worst disease that mankind knew. Chocolate supplies were spoilt for years.

Due to the lack of chocolate, they couldn't make any more Penguins, so the North Pole was deserted.

But the South Pole still had lots of polar bears, due to no lack of vanilla ice cream.

The polar bears were very confused, and so were the penguins who had been transported north.

But they had nothing in the confusion stakes on the 75ft tall green scaly thing.

The scaly thing evaporated, like the phantasm it was, echoing in the corridors of Jim's mind as it went.

Bling, bling, bling

The phone rang, and John stopped picking his nose and picked it up.

His nose rang off without saying anything.

"Perhaps I should try using the phone?" said John.."Yes, that's a good idea."


Another Robot, by Ed Marwood

The crowd was thinning into nothingness. He picked up the sword...

Its motion was swift. Its metal blade glinted in the light.

He parried the beast's mighty blows and struck back once, twice; soon it lay at his feet, defeated. He stood up and said

"I knew I shouldn't have remarked about his terrible haircut." Then he picked up the severed head and,

using the skills he had learnt from Pele, and perfected with Bath RFC, scored a terrific drop kick in the direction of the nearest dragon.

RANDOM!

It flamed the ball into vapour. "Goal!"

"Ice Cream! Ice Cream!"

"Ice Cream?"

"This could just get stupid, couldn't it?" said the bloke behind the counter.

"Would you like nuts on that sir?"
"No, just strawberry sauce."

"I always find it better with honey, but you're the customer, Sir."

"What about dead parrots?"

"I don't know. I think they died."




"It's very cold on the steppes today,"

said Jim, as he stood on the tropical beach, waiting for Godot.

"Write it down, Jim" his friend retorted. "Write it down!"

Jim wrote it down and chuckled at his humour.

Everybody else thought this was incredibly bad and stared at him.

He stared right back at them.

They jumped, 120 m in the air,

using the rocket boots that he had borrowed from his uncle during the last Siberian winter,

he flew through the windows of the skyscraper and landed in front of his nemesis.

"Aha," he said. "I've been looking for you everywhere.

Have you seen a 75ft tall green scaly thing?"

"The ways of the Lord are strange; indeed I have seen him, in the old house of the Ferret and Firkin,"

"Yea, truth is - be in this place of worship. The Gods of the BEER are mighty. The worshipful prayer at the latrine-altar shall follow. Heads shall be hit with mallets."

And so it was done, and the great Gods of Beer went on to kill everyone except the Real Ale drinkers, who inherited the Earth.

These were created at PicoCon 17, in 1998, by Bob, Scautura, Paul, Amanda, Lloyd, Alex and David. Lloyd translated them into a computer-readable form. "Don't take drugs; just say NO"; obviously it 's too late for us.