[1916] in Humor

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daemon@ATHENA.MIT.EDU (ijduggan@MIT.EDU)
Thu Feb 27 19:35:54 1997

From: <ijduggan@MIT.EDU>
To: humor@MIT.EDU
Date: Thu, 27 Feb 1997 19:28:55 EST

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From: snow@MIT.EDU
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To: ijduggan@MIT.EDU, roc@MIT.EDU, atorres@MIT.EDU, arakawa@MIT.EDU,
        bigbird@MIT.EDU
Subject: a story
Date: Thu, 27 Feb 1997 17:21:23 EST


Hi guys...

This has to be one of the funniest things that I have read in a long time.

Snow

------- Forwarded Message


This assignment was actually turned in by two English students:

Rebecca <last name deleted > and Gary <last name deleted > 
English 44A 
SMU Creative Writing 
Prof Miller

In-class Assignment for Wednesday

Today we will experiment with a new form called the tandem story. The process
is simple. Each person will pair off with the person sitting to his or her
immediate right. One of you will then write the first paragraph of a short
story. The partner will read the first paragraph and then add another
paragraph to the story. The first person will then add a third paragraph, and
so on back and forth. Remember to reread what has been written each time in
order to keep the story coherent. The story is over when both agree a
conclusion has been reached.

------------------------------------------------------

At first, Laurie couldn't decide which kind of tea she wanted. The camomile,
which used to be her favorite for lazy evenings at home, now reminded her too
much of Carl, who once said, in happier times, that he liked camomile. But she
felt she must now, at all costs, keep her mind off Carl. His possessiveness
was suffocating, and if she thought about him too much her asthma started
acting up again. So camomile was out of the question.  

Meanwhile, Advance Sergeant Carl Harris, leader of the attack squadron now in
orbit over Skylon 4, had more important things to think about than the
neuroses of an air-headed asthmatic bimbo named Laurie with whom he had spent
one sweaty night over a year ago. "A.S. Harris to Geostation 17," he said into
his transgalactic communicator. "Polar orbit established. No sign of
resistance so far..." But before he could sign off a bluish particle beam
flashed out of nowhere and blasted a hole through his ship's cargo bay. The
jolt from the direct hit sent him flying out of his seat and across the
cockpit.  

He bumped his head and died almost immediately, but not before he felt one
last pang of regret for psychically brutalizing the one woman who had ever had
feelings for him. Soon afterwards, Earth stopped its pointless hostilities
towards the peaceful farmers of Skylon 4. "Congress Passes Law Permanently
Abolishing War and Space Travel." Laurie read in her newspaper one morning.
The news simultaneously excited her and bored her. She stared out the window,
dreaming of her youth--when the days had passed unhurriedly and carefree, with
no newspapers to read, no television to distract her from her sense of
innocent wonder at all the beautiful things around her. "Why must one lose
one's innocence to become a woman?" she pondered wistfully.  

Little did she know, but she has less than 10 seconds to live. Thousands of
miles above the city, the Anu'udrian mothership launched the first of its
lithium fusion missiles. The dim-witted wimpy peaceniks who pushed the
Unilateral Aerospace Disarmament Treaty through Congress had left Earth a
defenseless target for the hostile alien empires who were determined to
destroy the human race. Within two hours after the passage of the treaty the
Anu'udrian ships were on course for Earth, carrying enough firepower to
pulverize the entire planet. With no one to stop them they swiftly initiated
their diabolical plan. The lithium fusion missile entered the atmosphere
unimpeded. The President, in his top-secret mobile submarine headquarters on
the ocean floor off the coast of Guam, felt the inconceivably massive
explosion which vaporized Laurie and 85 million other Americans. The President
slammed his fist on the conference table. "We can't allow this! I'm going to
veto that treaty! Let's blow'em out of the sky!"  

This is absurd. I refuse to continue this mockery of literature. My writing
partner is a violent, chauvinistic, semi-literate adolescent.  

Yeah? Well, you're a self-centered tedious neurotic whose attempts at writing
are the literary equivalent of Valium.  

You total $*&.  

Stupid @#!%*.





------- End of Forwarded Message


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