Return to main page
 
From: Flog Sonata
To: Faithful Viewers Msg #2, 04:01 est 90-09-28
Subject: Hello and Welcome
Scene: a desk with a ratty moose head hung up behind it, plush green
carpetting, an ugly painting by William Hogarth of babies being beaten by
drunken midevil house-wives, the wall-paper is white and speckled with
mysterious red spots that look like blood. Sitting on the desk, looking out
at the public, is a decayed fleshy being, Flog Sonata.

Flog: "Hello, I'm Flog Sonata, owner and operator of the Flog channel. As your
host in this big wonderful world, I would like to express great thanks to Mel
Pheasant, who set up this wonderful wonderful area. Thank ya Mel, we'll all
miss you after the operation."

Flog turns dramatically for a quick camera angle change, like the real
irritating ones you see all the time lately.

Flog: "This station has been set up to bring you what you the public have
demanded through out the years, but have never gotten: as much sex and
violence as humanly possible. What would this world be if it weren't for
sex? You and I wouldn't be here if our parents hadn't boffed on the sofa and
in their excitement forgotten the condom. Violence? Well, freedom has a
price, and that price is the bloody assasination of anyone who opposes this
freedom. Our history is full of blood and guts, and what better way to
appreciate our history than to pay hommage to it by being as cruel, violent
and graphicly sick as possible?

"In the weeks to come, we hope to show you programming that will bring
you to the brink of insanity, and hopefully, beyond, into that dark void of
insanity, where, hopefully, God willing and all that shit, you will go
completely fucking loopy and kill off your neighbours, parents, friends, and
whoever else you want, for no real apparent reason.

"On the Flog Channel, we would like as much input from our viewers as
possible, and this is the beauty of it, by creating their own programming.
Simply by entering a message, the viewer also can become a creator of
wonderful standardless features, and actually feel like he or she has
actually done something of some sort of use in this horrid cesspool of an
existence that we call reality.

"Make sure that all your entries are in the form of a television program,
or we at the Flog Channel will have to publicly ridicule either your penis
size, or your sexual preference. And please, make sure your entries are as
standardless as possible. Remember our motto:

"If someone doesn't cringe in disgust, get that fucking piece of shit off
the air! I thank you, and I think whatever greater force in the universe,
whatever it is, thanks you, sort of, in the twisted dribbling insane way that
it knows how. Bless the lot of you stinking bastards."

Flog smiles a yellow smile and waves as the screen fades to black.
 
--- Opus-CBCS 1.13
* Origin: Flog's Free Beer Echo (1:163/207.1)
 
From: A Commercial Message
To: All Msg #3, 04:26 est 90-09-28
Subject: Tylenol
JAKE HATHGROVE, MENTAL PATIENT.

CONDITION: SCHIZOPHRENIA.

Jake: "It's like a big big big small big swooping thing with fangs like trees
on fire, and then it swells and splits and chases me into the future where I
drool and spasm like fire fire fire ocean death goddess. And then the
screaming screaming screaming fire swallows my brain and dances circles
around me and my friends."

Doctor Voice: "Have you considered taking TYLENOL?"

Jake: "No, because Tylenol is made by Nazis in hell, and they put chemicals
chemicals chemicals that will melt my brain and fuse my legs together and
turn me into a huge mutant worm and soon soon soon after the mutant robin
will come and pluck me from the moist green earth, break me into pieces and
feed me to her children!!"

THREE HOURS LATER...

Doctor Voice: "How do you feel now?"

Jake (now strapped to his chair, looking like he's been beaten and forced to
swallow certain pills): "AAAUGH! My spleen screams for fiery salvation on
mondays and thursdays thursdays thursdays! Why live in torment of fiery
fiery fiery death of nostril plague walrus walrus??? Eeek! Was that the wings
of the mutant robin???"

TYLENOL: WORKS ON HEADACHES, NOT SCHIZOPHRENIA.
 
--- Opus-CBCS 1.13
* Origin: Flog's Free Beer Echo (1:163/207.1)
 
From: The Nine O'Clock News
To: Gullible People Who Believe Us Msg #4, 04:36 est 90-09-28
Subject: A whole bunch of made up shit.
Sounds: "deep de deep dee deep dee deep"
Deep voiced narrator: "And now the 9 o'clock news, with your host, Jacob
Bullshitter."

Scene: big ugly grey desk that hides newscasters legs which of course are
inside of silky garters. About 50 clocks, each for a different time zone
line the walls, each with a fictional country name under it, such as
"Razzbothonia" and "Venisuathina". Jacob Bulshitter sits there, looking
important, holding a bunch of blank papers in his hands, staring at the
tele-prompter across from him.

Jacob: "Good evening, in the news today, a whole bunch of really nasty shit
happened, with people getting fucking blown to pieces and like, really messed
up with their brains splattered all over the fucking place. Horrible nasty
mess, gore and blood and evil, but first, this report from Pamela
Whatserface."

Switch to Pamela.

Pamela: "Hello, I'm Pamela Whatserface doing yet another one fo those
irritating news fillers where we either go and talk to really fucked up old
people in old-folks homes, or go talk to little kids in some classroom, or
even worse, study one of the mindless local cretins who's either built a
really 'neat-o keen' fence or something equally as uninteresting and boring.
Back to you Jacob."

Switch to Jacob.

Jacob: "Thank you Pamela, you fucking stupid Carleton Journalism Graduate and
majorly fucked up cunt. Also in the news, a bunch of people died in a plane
crash. 17 of them were canadian, which is the only reason i mention it. If
no canadians were involved, I wouldn't have even mentioned it. Of course,
the only reason we mention this crash is so that you will live in constant
fear of air-travel and will be willing to dish out hundreds of dollars just
to take a plane five feet, figuring that it all must be a very complicated
process."

"Also in the news, this guy was driving along a street, and he turned real
funny, and smashed into this other guy. The other guy, pissed off, climbed
out of his car and beat the shit out of him. Can you believe it? He beat the
shit out of him!"

"Further in the news, a bunch of piddly countries somewhere way the hell
south east of the globe, I think, are blowing each other up because one of
the countries says god has a beard and a moustache, while the other country
says god only has a beard."

"And that's the news for tonight, don't you feel like we fucking told you
something useful? I'm Jacob Bullshitter, saying goodnight for the whole
crew, wishing you have a nice sleep. Be sure to tune in tomorrow morning at
around 5am, cuz I'm sure a whole bunch of new shit'll have happened by then.

Sounds: "Chugga chugga chugga chugga chugga"
Narrator guy: This has been the evening news with Jacob Bullshitter. Fuck off."
 
--- Opus-CBCS 1.13
* Origin: Flog's Free Beer Echo (1:163/207.1)
 
From: Yack Cookies
To: Faithful Viewers Msg #5, 13:39 est 90-09-28
Subject: Wok with Yack
Scene: A country road somewhere in the South. Camera at eye height, panning
the surrounding marsh, along the road. Yack is standing on the road with a
pan in one hand and a spatula in another. A third hand waved.
Sound: Crickets chirping, birds singing, insects buzzing. A skillet fries with
popping sounds.
Announcer: "And now for our regularly scheduled program, Wok with Yack, the
anal-retentive roadkill cook." The music and frying sounds fade away.
"Hello T.V. viewing audience. Today we will try once again, to find cheap and
alternative ways to feed our families...." (a little kid starts whimpering
somewhere off-screen, and Yack turns and smacks it).
Camera: Starts sinking slowly down to ground level...
"Here today, with us, is a very dead animal. We aren't really sure what it is,
but I mean, does it matter?"
Camera: Sinks down right to the ground, and suddenly displays a mass of
twisted bloodiness in the direct foreground. Yack's face begins getting
paler. He walks up to the animal.
"First what we have to do is clean this up a bit." He grabs a shovel, and
starts scooping up bits of flesh into a neat pile. "It is important that we
have a nice clean work area so we don't get distracted." His face gets
somewhat paler. He stoops to the the gound to scrape some fits he missed with
the shovel. "You want to make sure..."
Yack pauses, and wipes his forehead. His voice gets a trembly sound.
"You want to make sure to get the ground in parts, as this a-adds to the the
f-flavour." As he pulls out a large body bag and starts scooping, he vomits
onto the road.
"Oh dear me! We can't have this sort of thing happening." He quickly produces
another type of bag and starts cleaning his vomit up. "Oh dear, oh dear me."
He gets some vomit on the OUTSIDE of the bag. "AAAAAAGH!" He shrieks, and
starts vomiting again. He starts cleaning and vomitting at the same time.
Announcer: "This program has been brought to you by Gad Garbage Bags - Tough
enough for those odd jobs..."
Sounds: Frying sounds start as the picture fades.
 
--- Opus-CBCS 1.13
* Origin: Flog's Free Beer Echo (1:163/207.1)
 
 
From: A Commercial Message
To: Msg #6, 13:39 est 90-09-28
Subject: Gad Garbage Bags...
Scene: a room with blood spattered everywhere. A guy with an axe is stuffing
body parts into a large bag.
The guy puts down the axe, and starts cramming the bag full. He grabs the top
of the bag, and sticks his foot in. He starts trying to stuff it all down
with his foot.
<splook> as the bag rips, and spews it's contents every where.
"Damn!" The guy shouts, and starts pounding himself in the head. "Shit!"
 
 
Announcer: "Has this ever happened to you?" A slight pause, "Next time use
GAD, for those heavy days."
--- Opus-CBCS 1.13
* Origin: Flog's Free Beer Echo (1:163/207.1)
 
From: A Commercial Message
To: Gullible Morons Msg #7, 01:44 est 90-09-29
Subject: SPIRITUALITY!
Scene: A ditzy woman dramaticly holding her chin in her hand, sitting in a
glitzy kitchen.

Woman: "I'm tired of making decisions and running my life, living every hectic
day, logically trying to decide whether I should do 'A' or 'B'! My boyfriend,
should I dump him? Should I buy that new car? Should I quit my job and
start that turtle ranch I've always dreamed of owning?"

Narrator: "Does this sounds like you? If so, why not pick up the phone, dial
1-900-GOD-AM-I-STUPID and speak to our on-line psychics, who will help you
with all those important decisions! Why actually stop and think about those
pressing matters we face every day, when you can just pick up the phone, dial
1-900-GOD-AM-I-STUPID, and speak to a PROFFESIONAL psychic! You can discuss
LOVE, BUSINESS, POLITICAL MATTERS! Any problem that ever comes your way!"

Woman: "I dialed 1-900-GOD-AM-I-STUPID, and thanks to the advice of my own
personal psychic, I now run an award winning Turtle-Ranch, I'm happily
married, and I never ever have to stop and make a decision again! Should I
make Shit-Burgers or Lamb-Chomps tonight for dinner? (INCREDIBLY PATHETIC
MINDLESS GIGGLE) I know what I'll do!"

Woman picks up the phone and begins dialling.

Woman: "I'll dial 1-900-GOD-AM-I-STUPID right away!"

Narrator: "Phone now and you'll receive this pyramid shaped power crystal in
the mail, FREE, no charge what-so-ever, honest, we wouldn't kid you or ever
try and rip you off, no way, uh uh! Also receive this incredible ear funnel,
which allows you to rip out unsightly brain-cells with a simple flick of the
wrist! Phone now, phone often!"
 
--- Opus-CBCS 1.13
* Origin: Channel 18 - CKFC - The Flog Channel * 733-1754 * (1:163/207.1)
 
From: Entertainment Tonight
To: People Who Can'T Handle Real Facts Msg #8, 07:34 est 90-09-29
Subject: A Bunch Of Crap
Sounds: Doo-doo doo doo doo doo... (Cheezy synthesized theme music)

Scene: Two squeaky clean gits sitting at a big ugly desk. One Male, one
Female, so Male and Female that you can smell the difference between them.
Both are smiling like they have had their jaws wired to look like that,
grinning like tortured animals on speed.

Larry: "Hello, welcome to Entertainment Tonight, I'm Larry Bloodchew filling
in for an equally mindless person."

Suzan: "...and I'm Suzan Acidtrip, not filling in for anyone. Our top story
tonight, a whole truck load of useless trivia about the major issues of your
life, film, television and music. Who gives a rat's ass about that other
stuff, this is what counts, this is the big picture."

Larry: "Our first story, an interview with the POP singer Ragman Raoul..."

Switch to interview set

Git Interviewer: "Ragman Raoul, your songs, all of which seem to focus on the
concept of love, lovers, loving, breaking up then loving again, are all
completely inspid and mindless, and this has put them at the top of the
charts for years, how do you feel about this?"

Ragman: "Well, Git, I owe this to the long hours of work in the studio, the
amazing song-writing ability of my agent, and about a million dollars worth of
electronics that smooths my creaky barely pass-able singing voice into
something so sweet that kids can't help but down my music like soda pop."

Git Interviewer: "So you owe all your success to machinery?"
Ragman: "That and the image finally crafted and tuned by my agent and the
industry. They created a gimmick for me, a look, a wardrobe, gave me a
back-up band, and then put me through $5000 worth of plastic-surgery so that
I'd look good in a video."

Git: "Did plastic surgery affect your music at all?"
Ragman: "No, but it sure affected record sales! We wouldn't have sold a
single album if I had kept my old acne-scarred mutant-face I had before!"

Git: "Raoul, eat shit and die."
Ragman: "It's been a pleasure."

Switch back to former set.

Larry: "A whole bunch of lame actors and entertainment shits were born today,
why you should care, I don't know, but here's a list of them."

Bunch of names and ages flash on screen, most old actors/singers that no one
remembers or cares to remember.

Suzan: "Gosh, we don't seem to have anything else to say, so we'll just run
that Ragman interview thing over and over. Just imagine it's some other
musician. Oh wait, Leonard Molotov wants to review some film."

Leonard: "I saw a film, and boy did it suck."
Larry: "Thanks Leonard. That's all from us, G'night.
Suzan: "Goodnight."
 
--- Opus-CBCS 1.13
* Origin: Channel 18 - CKFC - The Flog Channel * 733-1754 * (1:163/207.1)
 
From: A Commercial Message
To: All Constipated Bbsers Msg #9, 07:52 est 90-09-29
Subject: SHIT HAPPENS
Scene: a cat wandering about the room knocks over a ming vase worth over a
billion yen. A woman comes down the stairs, sees that her cat has done this.

Woman: "Fucking bastard animal! DIE!"

Woman tears cat in half, cat innards spray everywhere in ugly red splotches.

Voice-over: "Is this you? Are you cranky and irritable in the morning? Maybe
it's your bowels! Perhaps you don't shit often enough! With new SHIT
HAPPENS, you can ease that pressure and feel calm, relaxed, and lose the
tension of contipation."

Words on screen: THE NEXT MORNING.

Scene: same house, cat innards still spread out. Front door is kicked in and
nazis paratroopers file in, each carrying a tommy-gun. They run upstairs
and, making lots of noise, swearing in German, etc, find two kids, which they
lead down the stairs.

Kids: "what's going on, where are you taking us, etc."

Nazis lead woman down steps, and she's all smiles, relax, calm and seemingly
drugged and blissful. Nazis lead her quietly and easily.

Slow motion shot of woman with a Nazis on either side, arms linked, all three
of them smiling as they waltz out the front door.

Voice-over: "SHIT HAPPENS. Eases bladder pains and makes you so calm and
tranquil that nothing shocks you."

House empties of family and Nazis, and as screen fades slowly to black, sounds
of machine-gun fire and children screams fills the air. The sound of a woman
happily sighing is heard, and then more gun-fire. Some german dialogue and
then marching boots.

Blackness.
 
--- Opus-CBCS 1.13
* Origin: Channel 18 - CKFC - The Flog Channel * 733-1754 * (1:163/207.1)
 
From: Richard Visage Rec'd
To: Mel Pheasant Msg #10, 23:52 est 90-09-29
Subject: Spiritual Overtones
(outside)
A large Bentley limosine pulls up to the Flog Channel
Building. The chauffeur leaps out, and runs to the
back door of the limo, which he opens. A man in a
chinchilla coat steps out, staggering as he does
so. He has a bottle of champagne in one hand, and a
.357 magnum in the other. A tall blonde woman fusses to
re-arrange her clothing in the limo. Evidently, she has
been the object of the man's attention.
The large crowd in front of the building cheers at the
sight of the man, and wave autograph books. Stray articles
of women's underwear fly through the air.
The man staggers, and waves the gun at the crowd, before
doormen come and escort the man into the building. A clerical
collar can be seen under the chinchilla coat.
 
(back to the tube...)
 
...the screen fades quietly to black.
Flog appears, flashing a yellow smile, and announces:
"And now folks, for your spiritual elevation, is
Reverend Visage's Healin' and Prayin' Show."
...Flog fades out. Funereal sounding organ music begins.
In the background is blue sky with badly painted fluffy
white clouds. Tacky looking angels, which look like Christmas
Tree ornaments purchased from Canadian Tire, dot the phoney
sky. In the centre of the stage is a large red velvet chair,
and next to it is a red velvet couch. Reverend Visage, his
clerical collar slightly askew, sits in the chair. His eyes
are quite red, and he looks like he might have closed more than
a few bars in his time. He wavers as he sits up straight. In the
couch sits a large man, dressed as a biker. It could only be
Skippy.
The organ music fades, and the camera focusses on Visage. The
veins on his nose are clearly visible. "Yo, welcome to the
Reverend Visage Healin' 'n' Prayin' show. We'll start out by
making a joyful noise. Lets welcome the Reverend Visage Gospel
Players...
more....
--- Opus-CBCS 1.13
* Origin: The Flog Channel, TeeVee Gone Berserk (1:163/150.0)
 
From: Richard Visage Rec'd
To: Flog Sonata Msg #11, 23:53 est 90-09-29
Subject: Money for Nothing
...the camera pans to stage right. Three tired looking black men,
one on drums, one on bass, and one on lead begin to play. The drummer
carresses the snare with brushes, as they launch into a slow blues
progression. Twelve bars in, the lead guitarist begins to sing:
"Weyall, Ah'm a King Bee
Buzzin' roun' your hive
Yas, Ah'm a King Bee, Bayyybeee,
Buzzin' roun' your hive
we can make some fine honey, baybeeee,
jus' let me come inside..."
...the band finishes, and the camera pans back to Visage.
"Well, there's some fine religious music to start off the show.
Now I know you're out there thinking, I wonder if the Reverend
can help me with my problems. And I CAN, oh yes. The Good Lawd
has BLESSED me with the POWUH to HEYELP you, oh YEYESS. Here at
the Reverend Visage Ministry, we are helpin' folks worldwide.
I bet yoo didn't know that we've just put a brand new satellite
dish up in Bangkok, so we can feed live into the Reverend Visage
Girls Orphanage that YOUR DOLLARs make possible. Thass right,
folks, every last cent of your munney goes DIE-RECTLY into the
Good Lawds work, Yessir it does."
Skippy begins clapping, and the audience joins in, whistling
and cheering. An extremely large brassiere lands on the stage,
and the Reverend quickly sniffs it, then tucks it in a pocket.
Visage turns again to the camera. "Now, whut say we PRAY to the
Lawd for AWL the Good Works what he duz."
The Reverend, Skippy, and the Audience all kneel. Visage clenches
his hands together, puts his face to the sky, closes his eyes, and
begins. "LAWD, thank you for making our miserable lives passing
decent, and giving us the wealth that you have bestowed upon us.
Yes, we KNOW that there are people on this earth living in
miserable poverty, without no teevees, without no fridges,
without no La-Z-Boy rockers, without no Cheese Doodles, jus'
barely survivin' from day to day, barely gettin' enough water
to drink. And we KNOW you expect us to make it right, to fix
things so those poorer than ourselves gets food and comfort,
and we KNOW that you'll take a terrible vengeance and roast
everybody in HELL that doesn't send ALL their money RIGHT NOW
to:
Reverend Visage Ministry
Grace and Danger 163/150

 
 
AAY-MEN"
 
--- Opus-CBCS 1.13
* Origin: The Flog Channel, TeeVee Gone Berserk (1:163/150.0)
 
From: Richard Visage
To: Kristy Black Msg #12, 23:54 est 90-09-29
Subject: Twin Peaks
The studio audience chants, "Amen", and money showers on the
stage.
The band lights up again, playing "She Sits Right On It, She Just
Won't Give It Away", and from the wings of the stage emerges a
young woman, dressed in an Angel outfit, which is so scanty as to
barely cover her modesty. She is carrying a burlap bag, and she
walks to centre stage.
Reverend Visage turns to her. "Weyell, Angel Lucie, What do we
have here?"
"Taberwhet", replies the Hangel," Sacrifice, I got de bag, jus'
like you say, mon pere." She bends over, holding the sack out
to the Reverend. Her buttocks face the crowd, which sighs
audibly.
The Reverend reaches into the sack and produces a small slip of
paper, which he reads. "Ms. Black, of Laval, writes that she
suffers from chest pains, and wishes to be healed. Come on
Down, Ms. Black."
A busty woman appears in the crowd, and walks toward the stage,
and makes her way up to the Reverend.
"You wish to Feel the Powah?" intones the Reverend.
"Oh, Yes" replies the Busty Woman.
The Reverend places both hands on the twin areas of the woman's
discomfort. The woman squeals. The Reverend squeezes the afflicted
areas. "Out, Demon, Out" chants the Reverend. "Yes, oh Yes" chants
the woman. "You are HEALED" shouts Visage. "Yeyess, Ah'm HEALED"
squeals the woman, clearly enjoying herself.
The Reverend Visage and the Busty Woman disappear offstage. The
faceless announcer cuts in. "Thank you for watching the Reverend
Visage's Prayin' and Healin' Show. Y'All come back, now"
Credits fly across the screen, while the band plays, "Squeeze
My Lemons, Till the Juice Runs Down My Leg"
(outside) A figure with a chinchilla coat, clutching a busty
woman, makes his way to a limo. Shots are fired, and a bottle
is thrown at the crowd. Police fire tear gas as the two jump
into the limo. The limo's rear wheels begin to smoke, and the
limo cuts through the crowd, which separates like the Red Sea
facing Moses.
The screen fades to black, and Flog re-appears in his greenness,
flashing a yellow smile...
 
--- Opus-CBCS 1.13
* Origin: The Flog Channel, TeeVee Gone Berserk (1:163/150.0)
 
From: Mel Pheasant
To: Old MacDonald Msg #13, 20:23 est 90-09-30
Subject: Mourning Farm Report
Scene: front shot of Old MacDonald's farmhouse. Old MacDonald is sitting in a
rocking chair, with various appendages in casts. What parts aren't in casts,
are covered with black clothing. A humongus casket sits in the forground with
a panel open, but facing away from the cameras.
Audio: sounds of a farm. A rooster cackles in the distance.
 
Old MacDonald pulls out a corn pipe, and a bag of tobacco. He slowly fills the
pipe, seeming oblivious to the fact that he is on TeeVee. His pipe fits
nicely into the gap in his mouth where his teeth are missing. He lights the
pipe after a minute, and there is an audible sigh from the nervous set
director as Old MacDonald finally clears his throat.
"Well, today m'cow died. Yep. Poor Bessy." Old MacDonald took another puff of
his pipe, and started blowing smoke rings.
"I knew there was gonna be trouble, after ol' Bessy had that fight with Porky.
Never seen a cow s'mad b'fore. She gone stomped on poor Porky. Never heard
such a squeel as I did that night. After that, I puts up this big sign on the
fence that says 'Warnin: Beware of Cow'. I thought that'd do the trick.
"Now, these here kids up the road, well, they's a'thought they could have some
fun, like ya know, young'uns often do. Well, last night they got a little
boozed up, and thought they'd come and see what all the fuss was about. I
woke about one in the a.m. to the sounds of loud mooin' an' screamin'. I
grabbed the 12 gauge, and ran out towards me barn.
"By the time I got there, it got all quiet-like, an' I got real real worried.
I quietly snuck inta' the barn. I took one step, two steps, and that's when
it happened! Bessy, always the cunnin' one, jumped me from the rafters and
gone knocked me out. She musta' hung there fer over a minute, waitin' fer me.
"When I woke again, there was lots o' lights shinin, an' I heard lots o'
sirens an' people yellin'. There were some bloody bodies around the barn,
from thosa' dumb kids. Well, I ran out to see what the fuss was about, and
gall-darnit, there was Bessy way up on the roof, with blood on her mouth and
a crazed look on her face. A genul'man was yellin' though this thingy,
somethin' like "Come out with your hands up!" Well, Bessy didn't have hands
an' got all confused like, and took a step back.
"Juss' then, I sees this tall guy with a big looong pistol, sneak up from
b'hind Bessy on the roof. 'Go ahead, make my milk' he says. Bessy starts
screamin' 'KILL ME, BEFORE I KILL AGAIN' which confused the gent, so he
promptly fired six rounds inta' Bessy. I figure he got all scared from the
sight of ol' Bessy, with all the blood an' screamin' an' all.
"Bessy rose up on her hind legs, mooed loudly, and real real slow like,
started fallin' off the roof. Well, there was a lot of runnin' an' screamin'
an' a real loud thud, and poor Bessy gone an' died. There was cow parts here
and cow parts there, here a part, there a part, everywhere a part part.
Eieiow! It was a heeluva mess..."
Old MacDonald taps his pipe out, and continues. "Now with the 'vestigation an
all, the Bank gents tell me they might hafta seize the place. I tells 'em
they kin come up an' see the place whenever they like, and they jus hung up
the phone on me. Real rude they was."
 
Camera: slowly pans to the right, as a number of vehicles start arriving.
Announcer: "Thank you for watching the mourning Farm Report. Stay tuned for
more News, on THE FLOG CHANNEL"
--- Opus-CBCS 1.13
* Origin: Channel 18 - CKFC - The Flog Channel * 733-1754 * (1:163/207.1)
 
From: Flog Sonata
To: Talk With Flog Msg #14, 00:10 est 90-10-01
Subject: A visit from The Rev and his Bro' Skippy.
An ugly beaten up couch with springs visibly sticking out sits next to a
beaten up chair with a desk in front of it. Flog, his face puffed up, his
eyes leaking puss, his fingers rotten and chewed, smiles.

Voice-Over: "Welcome to Talk With Flog, the show that isn't afraid to ask
really vulgar questions like 'How many times did you fuck before breakfast?'
Today Flog's guests are Reverend Visage, popular Reverend with his own cable
show and the Reverend's insane motor-bike-maniac Skippy, reknowned for his
driving skills and spitting ability."

Audience cheers out of control.

Flog: "Thank you, thank you. Todays guest is a man with so much spirit in him
that it makes you wanna drink his urine in hopes to gain some of his wisdom.
No, I'm just kidding, but he's a great fella all the same. Welcome Rev.
Visage and his Brother Skippy."

Audience cheers as Visage and Skippy walk out on to the set and sit down on
the beaten up couch. Flog shakes their hands. In the audience, a few people
stand up and mysteriously do a few SEIG HEILS, but then quickly sit down.

Rev: "Thanks for having me here, Flog."
Skippy: "Yeah."

Flog: "No problem, always glad to have you on the show. Your spiritual wisdom
and genius have often been inspirational and moving to me, especially the part
with all the money."

Vis: "Well money is a big part of spirituality, after all, if you didn't have
money, you wouldn't be able to buy a place to pray in, such as my 50 billion
dollar mansion way out in the country..."

(Vis holds up picture of mansion, camera focuses on it after about half an
hour of Viz holding it there.)

Flog: "Oo, she's a beaut."
Viz: "Yeah, we love th'old homestead."
Skippy: "Yeah."

Viz: "So, the show's going really well, we've saved a lot of souls..."

Crazed Man, off screen: "Heaten scum, you should die!"
Flog, feigning joviality: "We seem to have a disagreer in the audience..."

Edge of screen security guards are seen making their way to the trouble-maker
in the audience.
Crazed man: "Religion! Bah! Religion's the tool of society and..."

Skippy: "Shut up you pusswad!"
Flog: "Now now..."
Crazed Man: "Muther Fucker!"

Gunfire and Vuzage stiffens and falls off the couch. Audience screams and
general chaos. Skippy pulls a sawed-off shot-gun and fires into the crowd.

Crazed man: "AUGH!"
Screen blacks out, words pop up saying: "Do not adjust your set."
 
--- Opus-CBCS 1.13
* Origin: Channel 18 - CKFC - The Flog Channel * 733-1754 * (1:30522/1.0)
 
From: Flog Sonata
To: Do Not Adjust Your Set. Msg #15, 00:23 est 90-10-01
Subject: GUNFIRE on TALKSHOWS.
Screen: "We are experiencing techincal difficulties, please do not adjust
your set."

Someone having forgotten to tunr the audio down, the sounds of a Crazed Man
screaming as Skippy fires another round into the man's skull is heard, as is
the sound of the audience running in panic. Reverend Visage moans, then the
sound man remembers to turn down the sound.

5 minutes of the sign and then...

Back to the set. Rev. Viz is bleeding on the couch, Skippy is holding his
leather jacket against the wound, Flog is screaming.

Flog: "Get a fucking ambulance! Oh, are we back on?"
Director: "Tell 'em what happened stupid!"
Flog: "Fuck you Barry, er... Hello, it is my tragic duty to inform you that
Reverend Visage has been shot by a Crazed Man in our audience. Hey, Barry,
think this'll get more attention that Geraldo's nose incident?"

Barry: "A man's life is at stake, just tell 'em what happened!"

Flog: "Well, the gunman stood up and shot Reverend Visage in the chest, and
Visage fell from the couch and hit the floor. Skippy, always one to carry
weaponry, quickly yanked a sawed off shot gun out from under his jacket, and
blew the gunman away. It'll probably be difficult to identify the gunman,
seeing as how his head was blown away, but I'm told we have footage of the
gunman on tape... Run it Barry."

Tape shows man in audience leaping up and swearing at Reverend Visage, and
then pulling a gun out and firing two shots. The man is Jimmy Swaggart.

Flog: "Wasn't that Jimmy Swaggart?"
Barry: "I think so."
Flog: "Anyway, the gunman's pretty well bought the farm, and Visage seems ok,
despite all this blood all over the set, and Skippy is keeping the blood loss
to a minimum by blocking the wound with his extremely expensive leather
jacket."

White coated men carrying a stretcher run up and start lowering Reverend
Visage on to a stretcher. Camera follows them out of the room.

Flog: "There they go, taking Visage off to the hospital, let's see if we can
get a few words from Skippy... Skippy, skippy man, what do you feel right
now?"

Skippy: "Swaggarts family is fucking history."

Skippy runs off with ambulance men.
Flog: "There you have it. To recap, Reverend Visage has been shot, but
appears to be in stable condition, and is being quickly rushed to hospital.
The gunman appeared to be Jimmy Swaggart, a famous competeing reverend on
another cable channel. We'll bring you reports of the Reverend's condition as
quickly as possible, as often as possible."

Lucie, running out in front of camera: "Tabberwhit, where he go, mon pere?"
Flog points out the door: "You might catch the ambulance."
Lucie: "Merci Buckoo!"
 
--- Opus-CBCS 1.13
* Origin: Channel 18 - CKFC - The Flog Channel * 733-1754 * (1:30522/1.0)
 
From: Flog Sonata
To: Reverend Visage Msg #16, 00:49 est 90-10-01
Subject: Blood is thicker than Vodka.
Flog: "Lucie is of course Visage's nubile secretary and angel and, er, meat."

Flog: "Let's run that tape of the man we think is Swaggart, for those of you
who just joined us, this is the tape of Reverend Visage's attacker, who fired
two shots... Hey wait a sec, where'd the other shot hit? One hit Viz,
where'd the other go?"

Flog looks about the room, trying to locate the other bullet, and stumbles
across a dead cameraman.

Flog: "Oh gee, well, oh well. Nobody important. Once again, for those of you
who just joined us, Reverend Visage has been shot, and I think he'll be ok,
but heck, who knows, he may just fucking bite it any second now. Now, back
to regular programming, which we will interupt every 5 seconds with more
news, if we get any."

Barry: "Wanna get out before the cops shows? They might check up on those
tickets you got for stabbing pigeons."
Flog: "Naw, I'll tuff it out."

Screen fades to black as regular programming returns.
 
--- Opus-CBCS 1.13
* Origin: Channel 18 - CKFC - The Flog Channel * 733-1754 * (1:30522/1.0)
 
From: Richard Visage
To: Phanteem Logger Msg #17, 19:45 est 90-10-01
Subject: Tubes for Rubes
(...dulcet tones bing softly. The logo for the Flog
Network appears. It appears to be a large lump of something
green. The screen fades...)
A large grey institutional building appears on the screen,
the the words, "Incompetent Hospital" are superimposed on
the structure. Twittering music gurgles in the background.
The scene switches to a Nursing desk in a hospital hallway,
where two Nurses are leaning. The garter belt of one is clearly
visible. In the background two gurneys sit, with what appears
to be sheet covered bodies on each. A Doctor rounds the corner.
Doctor: "Yo,babes, whats shakin'?" He puts his hand on the right
buttock of a nurse.
Nurse #1: <giggles, wiggles rump appealingly> "Oh, I don't know.
I think there's more patients coming in, tho'"
Nurse #2: "Yeah <clacks gum>, boring, eh?"
Doctor: (puts hand up nurses skirt) "Where are they all coming
from, Gawd, this is getting tiresome. Which one is my next
patient?"
Nurse #1: (heaves a sigh and bends over slightly) "That one."
(points to gurney)
The Doctor walks over to the gurney and lifts the sheet. "Ugh,
this one's been dead for a couple of days."
Nurse #2: (turns to Nurse #1) "See!" <clacks gum> "I TOLD you
that one was dead."
Nurse #1: "Oh, I thought you meant the other one."
Doctor: "What did they come in for?"
Nurse #1 : "Colds."
Nurse #2 : "Cancer" <clacks gum>
Nurse #1 : "Whatever."
Doctor: "Well, since they don't seem to need any more attention,
why don't the two of you come with me, there's something in the
Doctor's lounge I'd like to show you.
Both Nurses: "Giggle."
A commotion begins at the other end of the hall. The camera pans
down the hall. Two orderlies push a gurney with an agitated
patient on it. As the gurney gets closer, its clear that the
gurney holds a patient wearing a clerical collar, and waving
a gun. "Drugs! Give me Drugs! I need bigtime Drugs fer
chrissake." screams the patient, as gunfire echos in the hall.
 
--- Opus-CBCS 1.13
* Origin: The Flog Channel, TeeVee Gone Berserk (1:163/150.0)
 
From: Richard Visage Rec'd
To: Mel Pheasant Msg #18, 19:45 est 90-10-01
Subject: Here, puppy puppy
(The grey hospital appears again briefly on the screen with the
words "Incompetent Hospital" superimposed on it. Then the screen
Is filled by a woman surrounded by a a group of yapping small
dogs. As the dogs bark, and urinate on her feet, she puts her
arms up and shrugs.
Announcer: "Ever have this problem? Can't seem to cope with the
pets in your neighbourhood? What you need is the...
*PUPPY STACKER*
This clever little device will solve all your small animal
problems. Good for dogs, cats, rats, even KIDS.
(screen shifts to kitchen, where the woman is stuffing a
struggling chihuahua into an odd looking device.)
Announcer:"Yes ladies and gentlemen, this clever machine, using
the same space age technology that brought you the garbage
compactor, allows you to reduce those difficult little creatures
into a small disk the size of a hockey puck.
(screen shifts back to kitchen. The woman pulls a lever, and
the sound of a hydraulic pump, and pained barking emanates from
the room. Blood pours from the bottom of the device, as the woman
smiles.
Announcer: "Now wasn't that eeezee? Only $99.95, and during this
special once only offer, we'll throw in this combination self-
sharpening knife and electric toothbrush. Its GREAT for family
surprises. Order now with any major credit card:
ACME BULLDOZER PARTS AND CROWD CONTROL PRODUCTS
BOX 292, FUDD, IOWA.
"Order now, our operators are waiting for *your* call..."
(The screen shifts back to the hospital, and the announcer
begins..)
Announcer: Join us on the next episode...
Background Noise: (screams) "Drugs, gimme some drugs"
Announcer: Of "Incompetent Hospital"...
Background Noise: (screams) (gunfire) "Is that all the Percodan
you've got?"
Announcer: when you'll see if the Young Doctor...
Background Noise: "I'm FUCKING SERIOUS." (gunfire) "MORE PILLS"
Announcer: "shows the Nurses his.."
(static. screen fades to black...)
--- Opus-CBCS 1.13
* Origin: The Flog Channel, TeeVee Gone Berserk (1:163/150.0)
 
From: Richard Visage Rec'd
To: Flog Sonata Msg #19, 19:46 est 90-10-01
Subject: Nope, didn't see a thing
<the static remains on screen for several seconds. The Logo
of the Flog Network returns, sideways.>
<synthesized "Teevee news is gonna start any second" music
comes on.>
scene: A desk sits in front of a background picture, which is
a velvet painting of a Tahitian woman, who is topless and has
extremely large eyes. A woman with blonde hair the consistency
of styrofoam sits behind the desk. The camera zooms in on the
woman announcer.
"Hi, this is Bambi Mellons with your Flog Channel News Update.
Today, a terrible shooting took place live on the Flog Channel
(rolls slo-mo film of Visage getting shot, and Swaggart being
offed). We're told that the Reverend is doing fine. Lets go live
to the Our Lady of Perpetual Slime Hospital.
On site announcer: "Yes we've spoken to the medical staff here
at the hospital (screams, gunfire in background) and they say
Reverend Visage (more shrieks and screams in background) is
doing well. (more screams) They say he's the bravest (real loud
screams, begging for drugs) man they've ever seen. Back to you,
Bambi.
"Well, I apologize for the sound there. In other news, a terrible
mass murder took place at the Swaggart estate. Reports indicate
that the victims were sodomized, chopped into little pieces, and
pissed on. Lets go live to the site...
On site announcer. "We're here at what used to be the Swaggart
estate. Everyone, all the pets, even a canary was butchered here
by mass murderers. Strangely, none of the neighbours saw or
heard a thing. (camera pans to group of people, all of whom look
strangely like bikers.) "Nope, we never saw nuffink. Nope, not
a single thing, nope."
"Well, there you have it Bambi. What a strange coincidence that
this should happen after this morning's incident involving Jimmy
Swaggart. Back to you, Bambi..."
"Well, that is a coincidence, isn't it. In other news today,
Saddam Hussein told George Bush to 'bite his weenie', and
Bush responded by turning Baghdad into little smoking lumps
of glass. Film at eleven."
(fade to black)
--- Opus-CBCS 1.13
* Origin: The Flog Channel, TeeVee Gone Berserk (1:163/150.0)
 
From: Loose Moose
To: Regular Viewers Msg #20, 22:47 est 90-10-01
Subject: Season Premiere

** TRIPLE PEAKS **
Bum bum... dum dah... dum dum... dah dah...

(Twin peaks music and credits here. We at Channel Flog are cheap
bastards.)

Fade to Dale Cooper lying dead on floor. Seeing as how he is dead, he isn't
concerned with much.
Dale: ...
Enter big tall ghost. Ugly, skinny, boney fuck.
Ghost: Inspector Cooper.
Dale: ...
Ghost: Are you listening? Sorry to disturb your death.
Dale: Fuck off.
Ghost: Do you believe me? I'm really here. There will be bloated entrails
in the gangrenous blowhorn, Dale. Remember that. Then, will you believe me?
Dale: I'm dead, you bastard. Let me die in peace.
Enter waiter.
Waiter: Room service!
Ghost: Fuck off. (Sounds of mutilation as waiter is rended to shreds by
irate ghost. Pause.) That bastard DID make a mean warm milk.
Dale: Fuck you.

Fade to Donut Shop. Enter girl simultaneously smoking 14 cigarettes.

Generic-Triple-Peaks-Character-Whose-Name-I-Forget: Huff puff.
Bobby: When'd you start smoking so much?
GTPCWNIF: When I ran out of acid.
Bobby: When'd you run out of acid?
GTPCWNIF: WHen I started smoking. I want you, let's have sex here.
(Proceeds to put street sign in mouth. Fiddles around a bit, pulls out
mutilated lump of steel that spells out 'I WANT YOUR PENIS')
Bobby: I can't, I have to go be depressed elsewhere.
Woman with Log: I saw you with that birch, you asshole!
In search of cocaine.

(Andy steps on board. It flies up and hit him in the face. Andy, amazingly,
doesn't cry.)

Andy: Huhh.
FBI guy: Andy isn't crying.
Other FBI guy: Nope.
FBI guy: Make him.
Other FBI guy: (Shooting Andy in the kneecap) Okay.
Andy: AAAGH!
FBI guy: Gawd, that's relaxing.

(Fade to hospital. Silent and scary. Suddenly, Ronette, comatose in bed,
starts freaking out. Vision of pointless character bludgeoning Laura Palmer
with axe.)

Viewer: You mean you spent a whole fucking season introducing all these
characters and not one of them killed Laura? Lynch, you asshole!
(Fade to black. Dum dum... dah dah... dum dum... dah dah...)
(Sanity returns. Drop more acid.)
 
 
 
---
* Origin: * MF * Crusty, Crunchy, and Flammable (Opus 1:163/139)
 
From: Mel Pheasant
To: Msg #21, 00:34 est 90-10-02
Subject: News Brief
Scene: Seemingly busy newsroom. One techie, hiding under a desk, twirls a few
little noisemaker rattles to make that "clackity-clack" sound you hear on the
higher-budget shows. The anchorwoman, Where's Barbara Frum, sits stiffly
facing the camera.
 
Barb: "This is a Flog Channel Newts Update, with myself baba, I mean berba, I
mean Barbara Frug. Er... For our first story today, we have a live satellite
feed on-location, at Mel Pheasants office. Can you hear me, U. Student?"
Large chromakey picture zooms in. The picture is dark and fuzzy. The sound is
crackly with much static.
U.: "I'm here, Barbara."
Barb: "Can you descibe, I mean describe, *to* us, the scene at the office?"
U.: "Yes I can. It is quite incredible. The paper here is almost waist deep! I
shudder to think about all the forests that were cut down for this."
Barb: "Paper?"
U.: "Yes, didn't you hear me you dumb <beep>? There's paper everywhere here.
It's amazing. No two papers look alike. So many colours and sizes. And each
one is stamped with something official, or says 'Urgent: Reply Immediately'.
Oh, wait, there's some movement in the middle of the room. Wait, yes, it is
Mel Pheasant himself, rising up from beneath the paper! He's shouting
something... oh, he's shouting something like 'disk, disk' or something. No,
sorry, 'desk, desk' is what he's shouting. He's now fighting his way across
the room."
Mel: "Owww! Shit!"
U.: "He's definitely found something under some of the paper! He's madly
trying to clear away some of the paper, but more keeps falling from nowhere.
It's RAINING paper here. Oh, I think he's got a tiny bit of surface showing.
Wow, this is exciting. I think it may be his desk, no, I don't know what it
is. The paper is starting to come down much faster now, accelerating
exponentially, and...<CRACKLE>"
The chromakey goes black.
Barb: "Well, we will get back to this incredible story as more develops. In
New York today, the United Nations formed a special task force. Apparently,
the Soviet Union today complained to the Security Council, that local
dissidents had been hurling rocks at cars with official plates near
Leningrad. Noting the increasing use of rocks around the world as makeshift
weapons, the Soviets demanded that the U.N. ascertain who was supplying the
rocks."
Chromakey: Shows a big photograph of a Soviet big-wig, with his finger pointed
up and his mouth stuck open rediculously, in mid gesture.
Barb: "He said, 'Diz pooor quality rocks, dey muzz be ah-merry-kun'. The U.N.
promised it would look into the problem, and stated that the study should
cost less than $100 million. Sources in Moscow have informed us that the
Soviet government is sending thousands of Kurds to Leningrad, to try and
remove the rocks strewn about the countryside."
Camera: zooms out to reveal another newscaster, with a big beer belly. Barbara
smiles cheerily.
Barb: "And now the sports, with Billybob."
BB: "Thankya there, Barb."
Barb: "No problem (tee hee)"
BB: "Not much happenin these days, but in the trial Olympic sport 'Australian
Rules Female Tramp-o-line Wrestlin' American meet, sompin funny happened.
These here two wenches were bouncin up an down, goin at it like, when this
third'un came up and pulled the tramp out from under em. It was hy-sterical!
Hadn't laughed s'hard in a long time!"
Barb: "Thank you, Billybob. This has been a Flog Channel News Update. More
newts, er, I mean news, at eleble, er, elebalm, er..."
--- Opus-CBCS 1.13
* Origin: Channel 18 - The Flog Channel * 733-1754 * (1:163/207.1)
 
From: Mel Pheasant
To: Msg #22, 03:10 est 90-10-02
Subject: Commercial Message
Camera: Pans in at a weird angle, showing a kitchen. A really thin man stands
at the stove, holding a frying pan. He has an egg in his hand. He holds the
egg up to the camera.
 
Man: "This is your brain."
He tosses the egg into the pan, with a loud <tzssssssst>.
Man: "This is your brain on drugs."
Closeup of egg in frying pan.
Man: "Ah, hmmm, that looks good."
Man gets munchies real bad, and starts eating the egg.
Man: "Mnph. These ain't too bad. Should'a thought of it myself..."
Man eats egg. Camera shows every little detail.
The scene fades.
Announcer: "Get crackin!"
--- Opus-CBCS 1.13
* Origin: Channel 18 - The Flog Channel * 733-1754 * (1:163/207.1)
 
From: Mel Pheasant
To: All viewers Msg #23, 13:07 est 90-10-03
Subject: Late News Bulletin
Announcer: "We apologize for interrupting our daily schedule with this
important news bulletin."
Cameras: Showing a scene outside of a suburban house, with many emergency
vehicles, police, and military running around looking busy, pale, and
worried. Crowds have gathered further down the street.
Joe Reporter: "In an incredible sequence of events last night, it appears that
Flog Sonata, founder of the Flog Channel, has been abducted from his home.
Details are sketchy, but there is evidence of foul play. Can you tell us
anything, Mr. Uniform?"
Joe grabs one of the uniformed men as they rush by.
Mr. Uniform: "Can't say much about it, pending a complete military
investigation. Piss off."
Joe: "Thank YOU, Mr. Uniform. Oh wait, here's Flog's Mom! Mother Flog, could
you please describe what you saw or heard last night?"
Flog's Mom wails loudly.
Flog's Mom: "It was horrible! I woke up, and heard a tremendous noise, like a
loud chainsaw or something. There were bright lights, so the whole house was
lit up, as though it was day! I heard something from Flog's room, and ran to
it, but by the time I got there, all I found was a big hole in the roof, and
peices of Flog's computer scattered all over the place. I looked up, and saw
a weird saucer shaped thing disappear into the sky! <wailing loudly> There
was some dungus and moldy clothing left, but no Floggy!"
Joe: "You mean to tell me that Flog was captured by ALIENS?!"
Men rush up to Flog's Mom and administer an injection. Her eyes cross, and she
passes out into their arms. The men carry her away. A neighbour rushes up to
Joe.
Neighbour that was spying as usual: "I can't believe it! I didn't see anything
ofcourse, but poor Flog! He was such a nice boy..."
Men rush up and inject the neighbour as well.
Joe: "What an incredible scene. This will undoubtably affect the staff down at
the Flog Channel, who are probably now wondering how they can continue their
fine broadcasts without their founder, Mr. Flog Sonata. Furthermo..."
Men rush up to Joe Reporter and inject him too. The camera starts showing it,
but suddenly pans down to the ground. The picture suddenly goes black.
Announcer: "Please disregard the previous transmission. There is nothing to
worry about. Programming will continue as normal. Please do not adjust your
sets. DO NOT adjust your sets."
--- Opus-CBCS 1.13
* Origin: Channel 18 - The Flog Channel * 733-1754 * (1:163/207.1)
 
From: Mel Pheasant
To: Shocked Viewers Msg #24, 13:10 est 90-10-03
Subject: A Commercial Break
Annoucer: "And now a word from our sponsor, Ktel."
 
Camera: Shows a trustable looking doctor standing in a household washroom.
Doctor: "Doctors are parents too. That is why we here at Ktel, after many
years of research, are proud to announce our latest environmentally safe
product - Diapers-Away!"
Camera zooms out to reveal a strange bathtub, with straps hanging down and
some levers and buttons sticking out of the front. The Doctor reaches down,
and grabs a baby by the foot. He takes the baby, which starts shrieking, and
plunks it into the staps so it is hanging by about a foot above the bottom of
the tub.
Doctor: "Yes! New Diapers-Away! Simple to use, and effective. Watch now as I
feed the baby."
The Doctor starts feeding the shrieking baby. Immediately, the food travels
through the baby's digestive system and comes out the other end.
Docter: (plugging nose) "Now watch dis...."
The Doctor pulls a lever, which starts the shower going. The water washes the
mess off the baby, and the mess in the tub.
Docter: "Amazing, isn't it? But that's not all! If it gets sick..."
The Doctor pulls another lever, which flips the baby upsidedown. For added
effect, he grabs an enema bag, and starts to administer it. Ofcourse, this
just comes out the *other* end. He pulls a lever, and it all washes away.
Doctor: "Incredible, isn't it? Yes, new Diapers-Away! Only $229.95! And if you
act now, we well send you this bonus enema bag absolutely free!"
 
Announcer: "For a limited time only. Please send C.O.D. or money order to
Ktel/Polygram, or call 1-800-836-4789. Visa or Mastercard accepted. Another
fine product by Ktel."
--- Opus-CBCS 1.13
* Origin: Channel 18 - The Flog Channel * 733-1754 * (1:163/207.1)
 
From: Loose Moose
To: All Msg #25, 19:17 est 90-10-03
Subject: What you've all been waiting for...
THE FLOG CHANNEL PROUDLY PRESENTS...

FAMILY MATTERS

A new sitcom staring Adolf Ofuck


Scene: Typical sitcom living room set. Father and mother watching TV. Door
opens, kid stumbles in, obviously piss drunk.

Father: Gregory, are you allright?
Greg: Fucking hell, yes!
Father: Greg, watch your language!
Greg: (Stumbles, falls into lit fireplace). Oh, shit! (Laughter.)
Mother: You're drunk!
Greg: Fucking right!
Father: You go to your room this instant!
Greg: Make me you fat asshole. (Laughter.)
Father: What did you call me?
Greg: I called you a fat asshole. Here, catch. (Hurls flaming log at
father. Laughter.)
Mother: How dare you? Get out of this house, now!
Greg: Okay, Dave has a few beers left anyway. (Laughter.)
Enter Leslie, the daughter.
Leslie: Hi mom, I'm going over to Andy's house to have oral sex.
Mother: WHAT?
Leslie: His dick is real big. (Oohs, ahhs.)
Father: What's going on with this familiy?
Mother: Leslie, honey, no! You're young! Don't rush into adulthood.
And what about AIDS?
Leslie: Well, it's too late by now anyway, he fucked my brains out
yesterday night. But his biker friends say he's probably clean anyway.
He's not a FLAMING homo. (Laughter.)
Mother: You said you were at Jessica's house yesterday!
Leslie: Yeah, and you believed it too, you dumb bitch. Get a life.
Father: GET FUCKING OUT!
Leslie: With pleasure, you old fucks. (Laughter.)
Enter Trevor, age 14, the youngest in the family.
Trevor: Hey guess what, I tried acid last night.
Father: I BEG YOUR PARDON?
Trevor: (Sneezes, wiped nose. Granules of cocaine flutter down from
nostril.) Acid. You know, LSD, California sunshine. (Laughter.)
Father: You're ruining your life!
Trevor: You shoulda seen me yesterday, I was really fucked up. The
driveway attacked me. (Laughter.)
(Exit all children, stumbling, fingering themselves, and injecting
themselves with drugs.)
Mother: This is all your fault asshole, I want a divorce.
Father: Oh yeah?
Enter Charlie, fat next door neighbour.
Charlie: Your pit bull just chewed on my wife's leg, call your fucking
lawyer, I'm suing your ass off.
Father: Ah, your wife's a fat bitch. (Laughter.)
Charlie: You want a knuckle sandwich?
Father: Try it you tub of lard.
Charlie: Try THIS! (Pulls out shotgun, blows Father to bits. Applause.)
Mother: DAVID!
Charlie: Fuck you, bitch! (Blows mother away. Applause, whistling.)
Mother: Auauegh! (Falls into crumpled heap. Charlie stuffs bodies
in fireplace and lights fire.)

Theme music. Fade to commericials. Generic clapping and cheering.
 
---
* Origin: * MF * Crusty, Crunchy, and Flammable (Opus 1:163/139)
 
From: Richard Visage Rec'd
To: Stewart Bruce Msg #26, 23:02 est 90-10-04
Subject: You wanna be famous?
"...and NOW, the FLOG CHANNEL PRESENTS"
 
Stewart Bruce's Haute Cuisine
 
(polite applause)
(Camera pans on to Stew, sitting on a barstool)
"Yeah, like here's how to have some real fine eats. Barkeep!"
A short man in an apron approaches from behind the bar. "Oui,
m'sieur?
"Bring me two, no, three jugs of draft, about 30 pickled eggs,
and some Cheetos." Stew turns to face camera. "Now THIS is living,
ain't it?" Stew swills beer, pops egg in mouth, and grabs some
Cheetos. <crunch> "MMMph sumpfit mruggle goob foob" Swills
more beer, five eggs disappear, more Cheetos go M.I.A. <ugly
eating sounds>
"fLibble fjf MMgd glurble" Starts second jug of beer, second
dozen eggs, gets new bowl of Cheetos. "mzzlp nerb fsssble
lble". <fffffwweeeeeep!> "scusem meep."
Scoops fistfull of eggs down gullet, drinks directly from
pitcher, puts face in Cheetos bowl. <faruuuump!>
"Bore meer, bore yeggs," he bellows. <crunching sounds. slime
drips onto floor under stool> "bis iss breal goob foob."
<ppppppphhhhhht! fadooop! Brump!>
Chest high mist fills the bar. Screams are heard. Choking sounds
are heard. The camera goes out of focus.
<pplplplpllplfardoooooop!> Mist fills the screen. Sirens can
be heard in the background....
(...screen fades to black...)
--- Opus-CBCS 1.13
* Origin: The Flog Channel, TeeVee Gone Berserk (1:163/150.0)
 
From: Richard Visage Rec'd
To: Loose Moose Msg #27, 11:09 est 90-10-08
Subject: A Brief Documentary
(...the logo of the Sorta the Flog Channel, Without Flog,
appears on screen. The voice over begins...)
"Due to the recent injury suffered by Reverend Visage, the
Reverend Visage Prayin' and Healin' show will not be seen
today. In its place, we offer you an excerpt from the show
"60 Minutes", on their visit to the Reverend Visage Girls
School, Matebeleland, Tanzania." (screen blanks, then the
film rolls....)
"Morley Safesex here, from 60 minutes. Today we visit the
Reverend Visage Girls School, in the impoverished Matebeleland.
Reverend Visage is considered to be a humanitarian in this
part of the world, providing food and education to orphan girls
from all over Africa. Lets ask the Reverend to show us around..."
Rev. Visage: "Well, its not a big school, but there's a chapel, the
girls dormitory, the school itself, the cookhouse, the staff quarters
and, of course, my own small visiting house.
Safesex: "Your own house? Is that the huge building on the hillside
with the neon lights and satellite dishes?
Rev Visage: "uhm, yeah."
<Bell rings in background>
Rev Visage: "Well, classes are out, here come the girls."
Safesex: "Say, Reverend, all these girls are butt naked!"
Rev Visage: "Its hot here"
Safesex: "Say, Reverend, some of these girls are at least 25!"
Rev Visage: "They're very slow learners."
Safesex: (turns to girls with microphone) "How do you like it
here at the school?
Girls: (most look puzzled, one who speaks English comes forward)
"We likes it here lots. We plays put de white snake in de chocolate
when de Rev'ren come here."
The rest of the girls step closer to Visage. One comes forward and
says, "Goombah! Buckaloh dweebil magum duppa mucus?" (Translation:
"Your friend looks nice, can we boil him?"
Rev Visage: "Sure."
( credits roll down the screen....)
 
 
 
--- Opus-CBCS 1.13
* Origin: The Flog Channel, TeeVee Gone Berserk (1:163/150.0)
 
From: Chuck Urthona
To: Richard Visage Msg #28, 14:31 est 90-10-08
Subject: attempted takeover, man the transmitters
<Flog Channel emblem, without Flog, starts to fad into an increasing amount of
static. A new insignia starts to come into focus. An announcer starts to
read....>
Announcer: Hello, ladies and gentlemen. I am Richard Fromage, the new
representative of the AREA163 NetWork. With the generious backing of a
certain Mr. Murdoch we have effected a takeover of this channel. Please do
not be alarmed, as programming will continue as before, in the finest British
tradition. I am sure the new owner, who wishes to remain incognito, will
find your current programming rather entertaining, though may require some
modification to bring it within AREA163 norms. As for Flog, he should still
be in good health, or was when I last checked.
<Fade to white, a pure driven snow white, with white letters spelling out
Area163 with flashing white lights surrounding it>
 
--- TosScan 1.00
* Origin: FourFold Symmetry (1:163/127.9)
 
 
 
 
From: The Antichrist
To: All Viewers Msg #29, 23:36 est 90-10-08
Subject: Public Service Message
The Flog slowly fades to black.
The words public service message appear in white on a black background at a
slight angle.
Scene fades to police car on side of road. The car is a QPF cruiser with
flashing lights.
A QPF officer approaches the camera.

Cop ; "Allo, I ham Offcer State your name, and me here to talk of you pour
anudder metod to keep da rue safe. We dere at La Surete no like dem peoples
dat drive da rue intocica...intoxic...drunk.
Da Kabec safety commision have da new machine dat will be installed in all
depeuners, otel, and da burlesque.
Da pupose of dis apperiel is to display da persons condition and if dat person
have da drink den da bar person no take da monies fron da customer. We hope
dat dis solve da problem of da drink et drive."
Screen fades to black and male, gay sounding voice says : This has been a
public service message from the Quebec Police Force and this Television
Network.

Screen fades to Flog Channel Logo (without Flog)
 
--- Opus-CBCS 1.13
* Origin: Channel 18 - The Flog Channel * 733-1754 * (1:163/207.1)
 
From: Richard Visage
To: Chuck Urthona Msg #30, 12:21 est 90-10-09
Subject: Its a wonderful day in our neighbourhood
(..logos wrestle for control. The Sorta Flog Channel without
Flog appears first, which is replaced by the Murdoch Empire
Corporate Logo, a large shield embossed with extended middle
fingers, a hissing snake, and a copy of Strunk and White's
'Elements of Style' cut in half with an axe. It is replaced
by a large Rocquefort. The screen fades as theme music begins
for:



UNCLE SKIPPY'S KIDDIE HOUR

(camera pans to bleachers full of chearing kids. "Skipp-pee
Skipp-pee" they chant.)

Skippy appears, riding a '49 Harley 74 panhead, converted to
a tricycle with fat slicks on the back, and in full 'Satan's
Choice' regalia. The kids scream as Skippy stops the bike
mid stage and dismounts.

Kids: "YAAAY Skippy! YAAY!"

Skippy: "Hey, bag it, willya? Will youse little animals shut
the <*meep*> up if we show a cartoon?

Kids: "Yaay, Skippy, YAAY!

( a cartoon is shown where little dogs and cats commit gruesome
tortures on each other until they all die.)

Skippy: "Hey, dats <*meep*>ing funny, right kids?

Kids: "Yaay, Skippy, YAAY!"

Skippy: (looks at kids in a profoundly agitated fashion) "Yo. Now
its time for t'days new word."

Kids: "Yaay, Skippy, YAAY!"

Skippy: (fingers the handle on his knife as he looks at the kids)
"Can youse kids say 'Diddle'?"

Kids: "Yaay, Skippy, YAAY!"

Skippy: "For <*meep*>'s sake, you little <*meep*>heads get on
my <*meep*>ing nerves. I oughta take you <*meep*>ing little
<*meep*>suckers and <*meep*> <*meep*> <*meeeeeep*>.

Kids: "Yaay Skippy, YAAY!"

(Credits roll down the screen as Skippy wades into the bleachers,
swinging a motorcycle chain over his head....)
 
--- Opus-CBCS 1.13
* Origin: The Flog Channel, TeeVee Gone Berserk (1:163/150.0)
 
From: Mel Pheasant
To: 18-35 market Msg #31, 02:33 est 90-10-10
Subject: Commercial Break
Audio: Silly music feeds through: a sickening "la la la la" type of song.
Video: Pans a number of men in a luxury car, all eyeing each other.
Announcer: "Soft, yet subtle. Odouriferous, yet undetectable."
(One of the male models in the car flexes his muscles, as the others watch in
silence.)
Announcer: "Now, and at the same time, classic."
Some Man in car: "Oh Bendork, you are so irresistable tonight..."
Announcer: "Try the new Flog for Men, and help support the Flog Channel at the
same time. He would have wanted it that way. Available at a Sears near you!"
(Screen fades to black)
--- Opus-CBCS 1.13
* Origin: Channel 18 - The Flog Channel * 733-1754 * (1:163/207.2)
 
 
 
 
From: Incoherent Rambler
To: All Msg #32, 20:27 est 90-10-10
Subject: BBSing
 

AND NOW...

BBSING WITH AN ANAL RETENTIVE SYSOP

<insert theme music>

Good evening, and welcome to BBSing with an Anal Retentive Sysop. I am, not,
repeat, not Dave Hunter or Ken Wilson. Not even close.

When BBSing, it is important to turn the computer on. However, before you
turn the computer on it is very import that it is facing you, rather then
facing sideways. <Turns computer about 1 degree>

Now the computer may be turned on. <Turns on the computer.>

However, before turning the computer on you must make sure that the screen has
no dust on it. <Turns the computer off>

<Takes cloth from a drawer>

<The cloth is a bit wrinckled>

You must be sure that the cloth you are using is not wrinckled.

<Folds the cloth carefully, puts it into a plastic bag and staples
the bag, then deposits bag in a trash can>

<Opens the drawer>

It appears that I am all out of screen cloth.


THIS HAS BEEN BBSING WITH AN ANAL RETENTIVE SYSOP.

 
---
* Origin: * MF * Crusty, Crunchy, and Flammable (Opus 1:163/139)
 
From: Dick E. Head
To: Richard Visage Msg #33, 23:24 est 90-10-11
Subject: best M.F. condoms ever!!
Closing moments of a soap opera:
Two lovers folded together on a couch. Marsha has half her blouse off and one
breast partially exposed. John has one hand up the front of her blouse hidden
from view. Marsha is rythmically stroking something just below camera range.
Marsha: "Oh, John!! I will love you forever."
John: "And I love you forever too!!"
The two lovers sink lower onto the couch to sounds of moaning as the screen
slowly darkens. There is a moment of silence and then a commercial break.
Scene:
A bedroom tastefully decorated bedroom with a light on one night table. There
are two people in the bed under the covers. The bed is shaking violently and
the bed covers are humping rapidly up and down. A womans voice is heard
gasping and moaning.
"Oh Gerald, Gerald!! Oh God, I'm coming!! Don't stop, please don't stop.
Harder, faster!!"
The bed is rocking even faster now and a mans voice is heard gasping and
moaning. Two voices cry out in esctasy. The bed stops moving and sounds of
sweet nothings eminate from beneath the covers. Finally the cover are moved
aside and a side shot of naked woman leg is seen stepping out and walking out
of the room. The camera pans over to reveal a man sitting up in bed with the
bed covers pulled up to his waist. He reaches for a cigarette, lights it
slowly and takes a slow drag. He lets the smoke out slowly. He turns toward
the camera and says:
"Always carry M.F. Condoms. You never know when you will need them."
The woman comes back into the room and a hint of silky breast is seen as she
snuggles under the covers next to the man.
"I would never have let you take me to bed if you did not have M.F. condoms."
The scene defocuses on the romantic couple as an announcers voice is overlaid.
"Always carry M.F. condoms. They take the worry out of being close, real
close."
A giggle is heard from the bed.
 
--- QM v1.00
* Origin: NiteFiler BBS * Ottawa, Ont. * 726-1916 * (1:163/114.0)
 
From: John Tod Rec'd
To: Loose Moose Msg #34, 00:03 est 90-10-12
Subject: power by the hour
Scene:
The closing moments of a nature show on the mating habits of Lemmings. One
Lemming mounts another and there is a short blur of motion and the two run
off in seperate directions. Announcers voice cuts in:
"Well thats it for this weeks "Amazing Animal Sex Habits". Tune in next week
for an amazing episode when we go to Alaska to film sex habits of the
Elephant Seal."
Scens fades to black and then commercial starts.
Scene:
A woman in bed dressed in a revealing nightgown with one strap slipping off
the left shoulder revealing the top of a creamy breast. The phone rings and
she reaches for it causing almost the whole breast to be revealed.
Woman: "Hello"
(voice on phone)
"Uh, Marsha. I can't make it tonight. I have to work late. I'll call you
tomorrow okay??" (sounds of giggling and music can be heard in the background
over the phone)
Woman: "Thats okay. I understand. Can you call later tonight if you finish
early?"
(voice on phone)
"Well I am just getting started and I will probably be too late to come over.
I will probably be exhausted." (more giggling in the background on the phone)
Woman: "Well okay, give me a call tomorrow then, bye."
The woman hangs the phone up.
"Damn him anyway. Who needs him."
She opens the night table drawer and removes a vibrator. She licks the tip of
it seductively with her tongue as she looks into the camera. The camera
remains focused on her face as her arms reach beneath the covers. A faint
humming sound is heard as the woman closes her eyes and a look of pleasure
crosses her face. Suddenly the humming stops. The womans eyes snap open. She
takes the vibrator out from beneath the covers. The shaft is gleaming from
the light on the night table. She opens it with a twisting motion and removes
to "brand XXX" batteries.
Woman: Damn it all anyway!! No date and the bloody batteries have to die."
Woman looks disappointed as scene fades and announcers voice cuts in.
"Don't let this happen to you. Be sure to buy EVERHARD batteries. Buy a few
today."
 
--- QM v1.00
* Origin: NiteFiler BBS * Ottawa, Ont. * 726-1916 * (1:163/114.0)
 
From: Richard Visage Rec'd
To: Mel Pheasant Msg #35, 16:23 est 90-10-14
Subject: Probably too true to be true. True?
(..logos hit each other with pointed sticks, trying to
capture the central part of the screen. An annoying voice
rings out...)
"And NOW, Welcome to America's Funniest Home Videos..."
(annoying theme music, filled with riffs associated with
comic scenes, burbles from the tube, as the camera pans to
a man behind a desk.)
"Well, folks, tonight we have some HILARIOUS videos for you,
so lets start right into them, roll number one, wouldya, boys?"
...the film starts. An elderly person pushes another elderly
person in a wheelchair. The person pushing trips, and falls
on their face. A 'funny' sound effect has been added. The
wheelchair rolls down a hill, its occupant obviously agitated,
and crashes into a fence.
The crowd chuckles, and bursts into applause.
"Well, that WAS funny, wasn't it? Lets see number two."
...the film rolls. A schoolbus rounds a corner in front of a
rail crossing. Instead of stopping, it rolls right into the
path of an oncoming train. A thundering collision follows.
A cheery "woops" has been superimposed on the screen as the
collision takes place. The schoolbus bursts into flame as the
train carries the flaming bus down the tracks.
The crowd laughs loudly, and applauds loudly.
"Okay folks, here's our final video for today, and BOY is it
a funny one."
...The film starts by watching a large propellor driven aircraft
take off. It then zeros onto the plane while in flight. The words
"Enola Gay" appear on the side of the aircraft. Bomb bay doors
open, and a large bomb falls from the plane. Minutes later, a
huge atomic explosion blots the landscape below.
The crowd falls over their chairs in hysterics.
"Well folks, seeya next week when we look at some REALLY funny
videos taken during the Iran-Iraq war..."
(the noxious music returns, followed by the battling logos)
 
 
--- Opus-CBCS 1.13
* Origin: The Flog Channel, TeeVee Gone Berserk (1:163/150.0)
 
From: Loose Moose
To: Pat Msg #36, 16:47 est 90-10-14
Subject: Bang Your Head
Flog TV W/O Flog logo fades to blackness. Sound of heavy punk thrashing
guitar in background, repeating the same basic chord over and over. Fade in
to anchor desk. Behind desk is sign saying "This Week In Punk". A
green-haired woman clad in leather is sitting behind the desk. She snarls and
gives the camera the finger.

Woman: Fucking hello, I'm Leona Fingerdipper and welcome to This Week In
Punk, the only national TV show that covers the punk music scene. Fuck you
everyone! This week we have a special half-hour documentary about one of
Britain's leading punk groups, the Flaming Sulphur Turds. The Turds, formed
in 1982 from the remnants of the now-defunct Dead Nuclear Penguin Spleens,
hold a special place in the hearts of punk rock fans everywhere. Their
often-controversial lyrics have set many standards in punk rock, and their
mind-numbing songs can make the boringest little sod jump up and eat a
lizard. We have standing by in Bristol Karen Granola, for a live interview
with the Turds. Karen?

(Fade to woman in punk rock concert. She is barely visible through the
thick hashish smoke that fills the arena. The deafening cheer of the
audience almost makes her words incomprehensible.

Karen: Thank you Leona, the concert is just about to begin and I'm here
with lead singer Johnny Burlap. Johnny, how are you today?

Johnny: Fuck you, bint!

Karen: Fuck you too, Johnny. As you can see, the turnout here to see you
is, as usual, fucking amazing. Just what do you think led to this tremendous
success?

Johnny: You think I fucking know? I dunno, Christ. It just happened. Now
leave me the fuck alone or I'll rip your clothes off and wank off on your
fucking tits you fucking cunt.

Karen: That's lovely, Johnny. What was your first gig?

Johnny: I have no fucking idea, my head was so full of heroin I remember
fuck all. I think it was in London, I dunno.

Karen: Thanks, Johnny. Good luck tonight.

Johnny: Suck my penis.

Karen: We also have here the group's guitarist, Stewart Intestine. Good
evening Stewart.

Stewart: Gawd, I'd like to stick my meat rod up your twat you bitch.

Karen: Thanks, Stew. How do you react to the Turd's incredible success?

Stewart: I take the money, get really drunk, drop a half-dozen hits of
acid, and just watch the world melt.

Karen: Any thoughts about your fans?

Stewart: They can piss off and die.

Karen: Thanks Stewart, nice talking with you.

 
---
* Origin: * MF * Crusty, Crunchy, and Flammable (Opus 1:163/139)
 
From: Loose Moose
To: Flog Sonata, R.I.P. Msg #37, 17:04 est 90-10-14
Subject: This Week In Punk, Pt. 2
(Camera fades to view of concert as the music begins. Leonna Fingerdipper's
voice can be heard.)

Leonna: We'll now be broadcasting, live, 15 minutes of the Turd's concert
here in Bristol, England, live from the Dwight F. Carmichael Memorial Arena.
We hope you enjoy the show.

(Johnny Burlap comes on stage, obviously really really stoned. He undoes
his zip and pulls out his dick, waving it at the audience.)

Johnny: (As the rest of the band files onstage.) Well fuck you everybody,
we don't know why the fuck you're here but we'll fucking give you what you
want. (Stewart is, in the meantime, pouring gasoline on the audience. He
flicks a match and the crowd cheers madly as several fans go up in flames.)
Go to hell, bastards!

(Suddenly, the band erupts into a loud cacaphony of screaming guitars and
random drums. Johnny screams into the microphone, spitting all over the
microphone and audience.)

Johnny: I saw this bint I fucked her long and cummed all in her face!
Death! Death! Fuck you everyonnnnnnnne!

(The bassist urinates on the audience and hurls a cherry bomb towards the
back of the room.)

Johnny: Life sucks! Everyone should die! Die! Now! (And, with these
words, he pulls out a large rifle and guns down his band. He then turns on
the audience and randomly guns down a few fans before being himself shot by a
fan.)

(Fade to Janet Granola.)

Janet: Leonna, what a stunning finale! This is just amazing, 30 dead and
several wounded, absolutely the best close in punk history! (Her voice is
drowned out by fans, either cheering madly, screaming hysterically, or
howling in agony. It all sounds the same, what's the difference. Fade to
Leonna.)

Leonna: Thank you Janet, that was just amazing. A fitting end for a great
band. I'm Leonna Fingerdipper, fuck you.

(Fade to black.)
 
---
* Origin: * MF * Crusty, Crunchy, and Flammable (Opus 1:163/139)
 
 
 
From: Dixon Kenner Rec'd
To: Mel Pheasant Msg #38, 23:34 est 90-10-15
Subject: The Struggle for Control (Democracy) and Mittens
 
<Flog channel insignia (without Flog) tries to drift in from the right side of
the screen. Rupert Murdoch's Insignia, a bloody tv antenna thrust through
the underside of the Earth, tries to invade from the left. Brilliant points of
light erupt where the two insignia connect, followed by speaker shattering
noise, not unlike thunderclaps six inches from your ear>
<Slowly, multiple satelitte's change orbit and aim their dishes at the
Flog Station transmitter. As it starts to smoke and glow, the Rupert
channel starts to fade through the noise>
A severly brain damaged individual staggers onto the set. The backdrop shows
an excrement encrusted Jimmy Swaggart logo. Other religious icons abound
around the set, the most significant being the beautiful detailed globe
held up by the shaft of a tv antenna driven upwards through it.
"Good day", he salutes the audience, "I am here for your orientation to the
new Murdoch format. Now we all salute our great leader here, but it is
important to know where such loyal symbols of our loyality originated"
He holds up his hands, one pulled to his chest, the other extended.
<Discerning viewers will notice that he has cute bunny covered mittens
on his hands>
"You see", he continues, "some times you get the urge to relieve yourself
when you see there is no flesh tuxedo lying about for your needs. Well
with the patented Murdoch Loyality Mittens, your problems are solved."
<This strange individual staggers and undoes his fly. As he does this,
discerning individuals notice the faint lines and loose threads of a poorly
done lobotomy and patch job.>
"You see," one mittened hand goes down to his neather bits, "this is
easy, you can get relief, and salute our leader at the same time"
<As he begins to stroke himself, it becomes readily apparent that the mittens
are joined together by a strong cord running up his sleave, across his back
and down to the other mitten (to insure you do not lose one, of
course). As he strokes, his free hand bangs into his head in a somewhat
saluting motion as the cord is pulled along in a rythmic motion in time with
himself>
<Glistening beads of sweat begins to forms upon his forehead, slowly to be
mixed with the blood emerging from the heavy scabs that are being knocked
loose from the pounding they are taking>
"You see", he stammers, "These special MLM's are all the rage, and will be
issued to all loyal, former, Flog viewers" <His head starts to jerk from
the violent pounding> "We must all conform" <heavy, red drool starts to
pour from his mouth, interspaced with much froth>
<The signal begins to fade as two Murdoch satelittes move over the horizon>
"No, NO!, not yet, you must'nt let this signal fade, MORE POWER!, MOR...."
<Roaring static fills the air...>
 
--- TosScan 1.00
* Origin: FourFold Symmetry (1:163/127.9)
 
From: Comrad Harizof
To: Anyone Dumb Enough To Read It. Msg #39, 17:10 est 90-10-24
Subject: Life, the universe, and nothing in particular
The usuall two logos come up one the screen, fighting for control as the
opposing satilites jam and counterjam each other. Suddenly guided missiles
from somewhere near the orbit of Mercury take out all the satelites and the
screen is plunged into noise. Then, a face begins to accumulate itself out
of the snow. A face almost completly covered in various gadgets and armour,
totaly encased in the helmet of a suit of battle dress.

Harizof: Haha, now I've really got you. I've jammed all your signals since
the 17th, thus producing the illusion that noone has been writing.
Of course, this is not true. Of course, there are people out there
who would right, if they put their minds to it.

In an amazing feat of extravigance, the ship from the orbit of Mercury
accelerates at a few 1000 g's and plunges into the asteroid Ceres, vaporising
it totaly.
--- Opus-CBCS 1.14
* Origin: Channel 18 - The Flog Channel * 733-1754 * (1:163/207.1)
 
From: Squid Tentacles
To: George Bush and Sodamn Insane Msg #40, 13:03 est 90-10-30
Subject: Potato Chips
 
Announcer: And now a word from our sponsor...
<screen fades out, then in>
A man in a business suit walks on screen (he has dark glasses, but it still
looks like either George Bush, or a Fidonet sysop)
Man: "You know, in todays world, convenience may make the difference in
accomplishing the goals in your life. What with bankruptcies, crime, Native
roadblocks, and invasions by religious crazies, you need a feeling of extra
security to reduce stress and make you a better competitor in the modern
world.
That's why I carry one of these..."
<camera widens, showing a Strategic Air Command B-52 Group in flight>
"4th Strategic Air Group... Don't leave home without it"
<fade>
--- Maximus-CBCS v1.02
* Origin: It's a beautiful day in the... Tentacles 613-512-0077 (1:163/106)
 
From: Mel Pheasant
To: Richard Visage Msg #41, 00:18 est 90-11-01
Subject: News of Flog...
The Sorta-Flog Channel logo sort of appears. It is faded, but definitely
visible. The Murdoch logo is not apparent. Smoke is still pouring out of the
Flog Channel transmitter, as twelve loyal employees try to get the signal
transmitted by standing on the roof and holding bent coathangers in very
strange positions. They look like they are rehearsing a modern dance
performance.
Announcer: "We have a special show for the TV audience. Tonight we have a
special broadcast, from Olga, the Small Medium at Large. She has been in
contact with Flog Sonata. And now, to our remote feed..."
Camera fades to a strange room somewhere. An on-the-spot reporter has a mike,
and is looking at a long haired woman dressed like a witch.
Olga: "You must be very quiet now. This is the difficult part."
Camera pans out to show cauldron.
Olga: "I have a peice of Flog's disk drive. This personal effect of his will
enable me to make full ethereal contact with him."
Olga throws the peice of pertinent paraphernalia into the cauldron, which
immediately starts to bubble and froth. Olga shuts her eyes and tilts her
head back.
Olga: "Oh spirits of Hades, oh spirits of bad and evil, oh spirits that gave
me cirrhosis, oh, oh, ohoh!"
A flash of light comes from nowhere. The room grows so cold the reporter
starts shivering. Olga starts quivering, and moaning, and then suddenly her
head spins all the way around three times. She opens her mouth, but it is not
her voice anymore. It is a booming deep voice, that sounds like someone
trying to talk while burping. Her eyes are still shut.
Olga: "HA HA HA! I am here! I am here!"
Astonished reporter: "Flog, Flog Sonata, is... is that you?"
Olga: "Ha ha ha. Stuff a rubber chicken up your ass. I want dead animals. Ha
ha ha!"
A.R.: "Well, it is you! What happened? Were you captured by aliens? Since you
were already undead are you now unalive?"
Olga: "Do not pester me with your questions mortal, I don't have much time. My
friends from, er, down below want me to return to the poker game we were
playing. I have bet my soul on a pair of threes and a Queen high."
A.R.: "Er, okay, but are you planning to return?"
Olga: "Eat fungus, you meek human. I may return this weekend pending the
result of the poker hand. Satan thinks I am bluffing... Is that Murdoch fellow
succeeding at taking over MY channel?"
A.R.: "Well the reports are sketchy, but..."
Olga: "Tell Visage to water the dungus daily, and tell Crass that I slept with
Pam and her breasts aren't as large as they seem."
A.R.: "Huh? What? What do you mean..."
Olga suddenly collapses on the floor. The room starts warming up. The reporter
runs to Olga's fallen body and starts shaking it.
A.R.: "Flog? FLOG? Flog, come back, we have so much to ask you! Floooooog...."
Announcer: "Well, you saw it folks. Flog is betting his soul, so will either
be lost to Satan or will return with new powers. We will repo..."
Signal fades, and the screen shows only snow. No logo appears. Only static can
be heard on the audio...
 
--- Opus-CBCS 1.14
* Origin: CJFC * The Sort-of Flog Channel * 733-1754 * (1:163/207.3)
 
From: Mel Pheasant Rec'd
To: Flog Sonata Msg #42, 00:59 est 90-11-01
Subject: Bob Newhart
The Sorta Flog Channel Logo appears, briefly.
Announcer: "Please stay tuned for a rerun of your favourite show, with guest
star Flog Sonata!"
The scene changes to show a sleepy oldfashioned mansion in the country. Some
really tacky music starts up, as the mansion fades.
<loud applause> as the camera shows the inside of Dick Low-down's Inn. Dick is
behind the desk, and George Udderly is on a ladder pretending to fix
something.
Dick: "Having any luck hanging that moose head George?"
<giggles from the audience>
George: "Uh, no Dick. I just started this now. Give me a break!"
<laughter>
Dick: "S-sorry. You're a little testy today George."
George: "Well, that's okay, Dick. It's just that your wife Joanna isn't
sleeping with me anymore."
<hysterical laughter from audience>
Dick: (does a double take) "Wha-wha-what was, was, that?"
George: "Dick, why do you talk so strangely?"
<laughter>, and then <wild applause> as Steffunny walks in, and as she does,
the door knocks over George and his ladder.
Steffunny: "Sarry sarry sarry (giggle)."
George: "Hey, watch where you're going, you mindless twerp!"
Steffunny: "Oh George, you're just jealous because I wouldn't give you the
time of day."
<more laughter>
Dick: "Don't... don't mind George, He... he is a little upset because,
(winces) because my my w-w-wife won't sleep with him." (looks around, puzzled)
Steffunny: "Dick, why do you talk so strangely?"
<laughter>. The door suddenly opens, the audience <screams>.
Flog: "Hi, I'm Flog. This is my brother Daryl and my other Brother Daryl."
Dick: "Heh... hello Flog. What do you have in that sack?"
Flog: "Dick, why do you talk so strangely?" He turns. "Here Steffunny, look
what I brought you..."
Flog reaches into the sack Daryl is carrying, and produces some wormy dead
carcass. He runs up to Steffunny and starts smearing it on her.
Steffunny: "Eeeeewwwwwwww! Yuck! Stop it!"
<laughter>. The Daryls start to smell the dead animal on Steffunny, and start
getting excited. They move up to her and start sniffing.
Flog: "Now boys, boys..."
The Daryls grab Steffunny and carry her outside. Steffunny's screams start
reaching the audience. They <applaud>. Joanna walks in.
Joanna: (perplexed look on her face) "Dick, what is going on here?"
Dick: "Tha... that is what I... I wanted to... to... to ask you."
Joanna: "Dick, why do you talk so strangely? And why do I hear Steffunny
yelling?"
Dick: "Oh, because we didn't close the door! Hahahaha"
Dick looks around uncomfortably as he realizes noone else is laughing.
George: "Well, she probably had it coming to her!"
<wild applause>. Michael walks in. Dick and Joanna cover their faces in
embarasment.
Michael: "Hi everyone. Hey, where's my little cupcake? A-ha-ha-ha."
Dick: "Sh-she's occ... occ... occupied at the moment."
Michael: "Dick, why do you talk so strangely?"
<wild applause> as Steffunny walks back in, between Daryl and Daryl. Her arms
are thrown around them.
Michael: "Steffunny, I don't understand!"
Steffunny: "Oh Michael, you never will. These guys know how to DO IT!" (She
makes a vulgar hip-throw)
<insane laughter>
Michael: "Wow, that's a relief, I was going to tell you tonight about my
secret desire to jump Dick, but now I don't have to worry. A-ha-ha-ha."
<more insane laughter>
Dick: "I... I.... I.... I... I..."
Suddenly the signal disappears, and static and snow is all that the
tranmission shows...
--- Opus-CBCS 1.14
* Origin: CJFC * The Sort-of Flog Channel * 733-1754 * (1:163/207.3)
 
From: Flog Sonata
To: You Silly Gits Msg #43, 02:15 est 90-11-03
Subject: Triumphant Returns
Announcer: "And now it's time for Joe Blow's Speaking with Humans on acid,
with your host, Joe."

Set of a lame talk-show, except every single surface is coverred in
psychadelic shit, of millions of colours.

joe: "So like, I'm joe, and like wow, y'know?"

Figure walks on to stage, appearing to be a corpse with sentience. He's
wearing a black trenchcoat, carrying a half full bag of popcorn from a movie
theatre and is slurping the last of a coke.

Joe: "Like wow, acid trip, it's like Flog Sonata!"

Audience moans and howls and screams and laughs all at once.

Flog let's out a belch.

Joe: "So like, are you really Flog or just an hallucination?"

Flog spits a lungful of blood into Joe's face.

Joe: "Wow, it's really him... So we're you like, kidnapped by aliens, held
prisoner by the murdoch corporation, or like what?"

Flog: "Didn't you guys know? Night of The Living Dead was playing."

Joe: "That's like a movie right?"

Flog: "The new zombie flick remake directed by Tom Savini... I've been
watching it."

Joe: "But like you've been gone for like three fucking weeks man..."

Flog: "Well, I saw it more than once."
Joe: "More than once?"
Flog: "Ok, I sat in a theatre for 24 hours a day for three weeks watching a
zombie film with my girlfriend, would you like to meet her?"

Joe: "Oh, like far out, sure!"

Flog walks off stage and comes back on carrying a coffin. He props it up
against joe's desk and creeks open the lid, and a red ooze slips out,
spilling on to the floor. The ooze vaguely resembles a body in extreme decay.

"Shit" Flog mutters, "I left her next to the heater..."

Joe: "Where will you go no, dude?"
Flog: "Well, I thought I'd go into hiding, seeing as how the Murdoch fucks are
hunting me down. They almost caught me in the Cineplex odeon downtown, but
fortunately I was taking a piss."

Joe, as flog walks off: "Like there he goes, dudes..."

As soon as Flog is gone, hundreds of fbi agents leap on stage, each wearing
sunglasses and non-descript suits, with one hand in thei coat pockets. They
inconspicuously walk off after Flog.

 
 
--- Opus-CBCS 1.14
* Origin: CJFC * The Sort-of Flog Channel * 733-1754 * (1:163/207.1)
 
From: Loose Moose
To: Edgar The Bald Spot Msg #45, 16:22 est 90-11-03
Subject: Late Nite Movie
Fade to Moose dressed up like Elvira. Big balloons are inflated and stuck
down his shirt to immitate her hooters, but they don't even come close. Uh
uh. No way. Gasp. Moose stares seductively at the camera, wondering what
he must have drank when he agreed to go on stage like a transvestite.

Moose: Fuck the monologue, here's the flick.

(Fade to black and white B-movie. Title comes up.)

OSWALD THE KILLER MUTANT TYPEWRITER

Scene: College student returning home to appartment. Circa 9pm. Cracks open
a beer, sits in front of desk.

Student: Gawd, I better get going on that English paper, or I'm fucking
toast. (Pulls out rough notes from bag as camera pans to typewriter. It is
grinning malicoiusly, hungrily eyeing the student's hands.) Here we go.

(sound effects : tip tap tip tap tip tap crunch)

Student: Crunch?

(sound effects : Crunch munch rip shred.)

(Student looks down, notices typewriter happily chewing on his hand.)

Student: Aiiiieeee!

(Gruesome death scene, obviously low budget. Ketchup and sheep guts go
flying, screams and typewriter puppets everywhere. Eventually, the student's
foot can be seen disappering into the typewriter's mouth.

Typewriter: Tip tap tip. (Subtitle: Fuck, I'm still hungry.)

(Typewriter bounds outside into rush hour traffic on major highway. It
spies a car pulled over with it's hazard lights flashing. In the front of
the car, a man is fucking around with the engine.)

(Sound effects: Rustle.)

Man: (Suspicous look) Eh?

Typewriter: AAAAGGGHHH! (Typewriter jumps man and eats him in a manner of
seconds. Gruesome music.)

(Static. Elvira cuts in a again.)

Moose: Christ on a bike, this is bad. Real bad. Fuck me, this is bad.
The end.

(Fade to paisley.)
 
---
* Origin: ** M.F.in' Moose Factory ** 831-3351 ** (Opus 1:163/139)
 
From: Loose Moose
To: Freak Lovers Msg #46, 16:32 est 90-11-03
Subject: Prime Time Sinks Lower
Fade to set of cheap talk-type show. Big sign says "FUCKED UP" Your host,
Alfonze Assface, jogs on stage, in an ugly suit and a bad toupee. He sits
behind a desk and applauds himself. What a pretentious fuck.

Alfonze: Hi, and welcome to FUCKED UP, the show when we meet some really
fucked up people. I'm your host, Alfonze, and I'm a gay basher. Our first
guest of the day is a real freak of nature, someone who opens the Sun to page
three so he can read page 2, and not look at the Sunshine girl. Ladies and
gentlemen, Bob Chowderhead. Welcome, Bob.

(Bob jogs on stage.)

Bob: Thanks, Alfonze.

Alfonze: Why do you do this, Bob? You're not a FAG, ARE YOU?

Bob: Uh, uh, no, well, uh... well, yeah, I-- (sounds of horrid violence.
Alfonze lands a punch in Bob's face, who goes flying off stage.)

Alfonze: Okay, well, our next guest drinks whiskey for the taste. Please
welcome Shamus Lickme.

Shamus: Thank you Alfonze.

Alfonze: You like the taste of whiskey?

Shamus: Yes, it's marvelous.

Alfonze: Including the horrid burning?

Shamus: It drives me into an orgasmic frenzy.

Alfonze: Speaking of orgasms, you're not a queer, are you?

Shamus: Um, no, definitely not, nope.

Alfonze: Well, fuck, you're no fun. Get the fuck out of here. Our
next guest is, uh, shit, who is our next guest?

Producer: They're all gone, Alfonze, you punched one out and told the
other to fuck off.

Alfonze: So now what?

Producer: I dunno.

Alfonze: Hey, I got it, let's invite a bunch of fags over and beat the shit
out of them.

Producer: Uh, Alfonze, can we talk?

(Fade to plaid.)
 
---
* Origin: ** M.F.in' Moose Factory ** 831-3351 ** (Opus 1:163/139)
 
From: Bent Antwisted
To: The Type Of People Who Enjoy Msg #47, 23:40 est 90-11-03
Subject: this kind of weird shit.
Static so incredibly intense that several people become blind.

Screen suddenly snaps to black, then slowly fades up to reveal:

Scene: A nice woodsy type area with lots of big green leafy
trees. Birds chirp blissfully, unaware of what goes on around them. Flog
steps out from behind a tree, doing up his fly.

Flog: Hello, er, sorry about the fly thing, I jut had about
3 pots of tea. As many of you may or may not know, the public at large has
been bored silly for quite a long time with your standard issue type
television. This would explain the success of weirder and stranger new types
of television, such as Twin Peaks, and er, um, Twin Peaks.

(Flog walks along through the woods, camera follows along)

Flog: We here at the Flog Channel think that more weirdness
of an excessively bizarre and demented nature is not only a good idea, but
REQUIRED by LAW. Everything should be forced to be weird, strange, and
permanently fucked up royally.

(Flog walks into an area where a man, obviously the Prime
Minister (that's Brian Mulroney for those of you who are non-political)
strapped to a tree)

Flog: Normallacy is of course, a curse. Any such person
who would want normallacy to be enforced should be brutally tortured.

(Flog pauses thoughtfully, and then savagely kicks the PM
in the groin)

Flog: My friend here, strapped to this tree, is an advocator
of boredom and stupidity and worst of all, normallacy. Just look at the guy,
a big boring loser. So we've brought him to these woods for the latest Game
Show excitement available to modern man. We like to call it...

Huge superimposed Caption: HOW SHOULD WE KILL THE PRIME
MINISTER??

Flog: (picks up phone off a table which mysteriously appears)
This phone is connected to an untraceable system, and it is the phone through
which we will be taking your suggestions as to how Mr Boredom should be
killed. The panel behind me (panel steps out from behind bushes) will
decide which is the most vile and disgusting...

Phone number appears on bottom of screen.

Flog: "We'll take those calls now..."

Phone rings, Flog picks it up:
Frantic Voice: "I think we should rip off his limbs!"
Flog: "That's rather lame, isn't it?"
Voice: "And um, and..."
Flog: Sorry, too boring, Next caller?"
 
--- Opus-CBCS 1.14
* Origin: * CJFC * The Real Flog Channel * 733-1754 * (1:163/207.1)
 
From: Flog Sonata
To: Killing The Pm Msg #48, 23:52 est 90-11-03
Subject: just for kicks
Next caller: I thgink we should tear his eyes out, fill the empty sockets
with burning rubber, and then rip off his genitals...

Flog looks suddenly bored, and throws the phone away. He
pulls out a gun and fires a round into the PM's head.

Flog: Sorru, lost my patience. Next week, we'll have some
other majorly irritating bastard and kill them too. Thank you for watching.

Credits role by as Flog playfully takes pot-shots at the panel
who scream and yell as they run away through the woods.
 
--- Opus-CBCS 1.14
* Origin: * CJFC * The Real Flog Channel * 733-1754 * (1:163/207.1)
 
From: Loose Moose
To: Egdar Allen Poe Msg #49, 19:03 est 90-11-04
Subject: A Cask of Amontillado it ain't.
(French porno film fades to Moose dismally weeping how he almost got laid by
an incredible drunk chick but got busted out by her fucking live-in.
Switchboard person realizes he's fucked up, screams "SHIT!" real real loud,
and then fades to black. Music comes on. Irritating music. Real bad violin
cello Masterpiece Theatre type music comes on, only twice as aggravating and
fourteen times as pretentious. Camera fades to two obviously british men,
sitting in a library, smoking pipes, in ugly brown plaid suits, drooling over
the latest issue of "BIKER BABES". They notice the camera, chuck the
magazine over their shoulder, take a swig of scotch, and begin looking
moderately intelligent.

Voice: Good evening, and welcome to Voices Of Expression, with your hosts,
Michael Everestford The Viscount of Ultramild, and Stewart Rainsblim, Sir
Cumcision of Theforeskin.

Michael: (Really, really pretentiously.) Good evening, welcome to Voices of
Expression, this week, we do the same old shit as before.

Stewart: That's right, Michael, and to begin with, we have a brand new poem
written by the great Edgar Winthrope VI, whom we all know wrote the lovely
Ballad Of The Severed Monkey Testicles.

Michael: Which I particularly enjoyed.

Stewart: You and I both, Michael. But without further ado, the poem, which
is entitled, "Electronic Birth"

Grunt
Groan
A boy?
A girl?
No,
It's a Sony.

Marvelous.

Michael: The surrealism just blows by fucking ass off.

Stewart: Fuck me, that's good.

Michael: Christ on a bike, that's great, I'm gonna cum all over now.

Stewart: Oh, please do.

(Fade to black. Momentary pause. Fade to library again. Calm has been
restored, although Michael looks unusually relaxed, and Stewart is wiping his
hands on a lamp.)

Michael: Ah, welcome back, sorry about that inconvenience. Our next poem is
by a personal favorite of mine, Peon Phallic, the struggling young artiste we
all know as the writer of "Tampon Lament". Here it is, his
latest work, simply titled, "Phlegm".

Malady assails me, I am diseased,
And so I have been for weeks.
Stunningly ladened, held back, aloft,
I rear, I look, and,
I hack up a huge disgusting ball of yellow gunk.

(Fade to black as Michael and Stewart simultaneously orgasm.)
 
---
* Origin: ** M.F.in' Moose Factory ** 831-3351 ** (Opus 1:163/139)
 
From: Flog Sonata
To: All Who Dare... Msg #50, 23:47 est 90-11-08
Subject: Television.
A desk, behind which Flog sits:

Flog: "Hello, I'm Flog Sonata, director, prosecutor, and head chief dude being
of the Flog Channel. It has come to my attention that most of our viewers
are too chicken shit to even fucking TRY to enter anything. This, is sad.
It makes me weep to know that some people out there are so fucking
self-conscious that they can't even enter one lousy fucking message. Stupid
shits, well you better fucking enter one, and it should be as obscene and as
vulgar and as nauseating as possible. That is the only requirement."

Flog stands from his desk, to reveal he is wearing no pants and that a small
gerbil is clinging to his testicles.

Flog: "You see (flog pauses thoughtfully) the world is like a big penis,
without pubic hair. If you jump on it, it will hurt, but if you stroke it,
you'll get your sleeve wet. Which reminds me, life is like a large sort of
indistinct THING that occasionally rears up on it's hind legs and makes a
sort of odd grunting sound."

Flog wanders about the set, looking confused.

Flog: "Life is also like a shaved bear wearing a tu-tu. You can sing it a
lulaby, but chances are you'll get your head ripped off."

Flog sits in the yoga position on top of his desk. The gerbil twitches
nervously, and makes an "eek eek!" sound.

Flog: "Life is also like a singing baboon with it's hair on fire.
You could put the fire out, but why bother, since all you really
want is for the baboon to shut up, and if you let the fire burn eventually the
stupid thing'll die, so like, why bother?"

Flog continues to babble while a voice over is heard:

Narrator voice: "This is Flog Sonata. He has consumed odd substances to
expand his consciousness. He is no longer making sense. For the sake of
your loved ones, your family, and life in general, don't do drugs."

Flog: "...so then the priest ripped off his gown and lept at the flamingo and
yelled: 'Don't ya wanna go to heaven you stupid fucking bird?' And then,
well..."

Voice fades out, screen fades to black.

 
--- Opus-CBCS 1.14
* Origin: * CJFC * The Real Flog Channel * 733-1754 * (1:163/207.1)
 
 
From: Remington Blades.
To: All Msg #51, 23:57 est 90-11-08
Subject: Remington Shit
Scene: Young teenager is sitting in the bath tub, parents can be heard
arguing in the background. The kid looks extremely depressed.
He looks about, sees his radio sitting up on the window ledge. He
reaches over and presses play. The dayglo abortions music comes from the
radio.

Radio: "Used to be a dirty word, something I'd never say, now when I take a
look at the word, couldn't be a better way. I WANNA DIE BY SUICIDE! I WANNA
DIE BY SUICIDE! I WANNA DIE BY SUICIDE!"

Kid: (mutters) "Yeah.)

Kid picks up a razor blade lying on the sink, and holds it to his wrist.
Camera zooms up to kid about to gash at his wrists. The blade barely makes a
nick in the kids flesh.

Kid: "Huh?"

The bathroom door opens and in comes the company owner of Remington.

Remington guy: (talking to the camera) "Has this ever happened to you?
You're sitting in the tub, about to slit your wrists, but can't do it due to
a dull razor blade? Well this will happen no more with the new Remington
Slit-O-matic! It's always sharp, and ready to slice, and makes a perfect
Christmas gift. Try one!"

Remington guy walks out.

Kid looks about nervously, sees the Slit-O-Matic sitting on
the floor. He plugs it into the wall, drops it into the tub, and electrocutes
himself. The lights go off, the radio goes dead, and in the background the
angry parents voices can still be heard.

Words on screen with voice over: "The Remington Slit-O-Matic, kills you dead,
or your money back!"
 
--- Opus-CBCS 1.14
* Origin: * CJFC * The Real Flog Channel * 733-1754 * (1:163/207.1)
 
From: Mel Pheasant
To: Crass Msg #52, 02:56 est 90-11-09
Subject: In Cestomy Street...
The Flog Channel logo appears brightly.
Announcer: "We now bring you all new kiddy programming, with the new, In
Cestomy Street!"
A silly song fires up, with a bunch of children singing who weren't picked for
their, uhm, singing abilities.
"Come and play, everything's A.O.K....
Where the da da la (as they don't know the words)...
hm hm hm hm la la la...
Can you tell me how to get, how to get In Cestomy Street!"
Scene: Big Bird is scratching his crotch, and talking quietly to Oscar, who is
in his, er, TrashCan.
B.B.: "Hey Oscar, did you have fun last night? Your place is a mess!"
Oscar: "Fuckoff Bird, you're just jealous!" (heaves a used condom at Big Bird)
B.B.: "Now that was very rude. I..."
Oscar: "Oh give it a rest would ya?"
Oscar disappears into his can, while a bunch of kids walk up to Big Bird.
B.B.: "Hey kids!"
Kids: "Yaaaaaay!"
B.B.: "Wanna play a little game?"
Kids: "Yaaaaaay!"
Big Bird pulls out a board, with a bunch of sample bags stapled on. A stupid
song starts again:
"One of these things, doesn't belong here..."
B.B.: "Okay kids, I want you to tell me with one of these controlled
substances doesn't belong here. Can you tell me which one?"
Tiny Little Slum Kid: (sniffs the packets) "Well I'd say that this Moroccan is
shit if ya ask me, but I notice you put the Diazepams in with the Luudes,
when everyone knows the Luudes are Norepinephrin blockers and the 'pams
aren't. I'd say it's the Moroccan."
B.B.: (grabs little kid) "You little shit man, I paid good money for that,
uhm, er..." (notices camera and puts kid down) "Well now for some alphabet
cartoon."
Narrator: "Today's letter is R." (camera starts showing graphic photos) "The
word Rectal-probe begins with the letter R. So does Rhynoplasty. Can you say
Rhynoplasty? And how about Rape? Raunchy also starts with the letter R."
Screen fades to Earnie and Bert's swinging pad. Heavy smoke is in the air, and
empty bottles lie on their sides. Earnie gets up off the floor.
Earnie: "Bert? Hey, hey Bert?"
Burt: (appears from behind a plant) "Shhhhh! My funckin' head!"
Earnie: "Bert? BERT?!"
Burt: "Shhhh, what is it?"
Earnie: "Was that my sister I ended up with last night or yours?"
Burt: "I don't remember Earnie. But remember, we have it all videotaped..."
Earnie: "That's right. Wanna do some shrooms?"
Burt: "Sure Earnie, like we're fucking puppets! I'm sure we're gonna get real
real stoned now."
Earnie: "Er, that's right. So there is no point in me carrying on this
discussion, is there?"
Burt: "That's right. Now if you don't SHUT THE FUCK UP..."
Earnie: (turns and whispers into the camera) "Sheesh, is he hungover or what!"
--- Opus-CBCS 1.14
* Origin: * CJFC * The Real Flog Channel * 733-1754 * (1:163/207.3)
 
From: Michael Voytinsky
To: All Msg #53, 17:45 est 90-11-09
Subject: And now the news
 
Flog TV Logo appears, then rotates around while Earth spins in the background,
accompanied by something by DayGlow Abortions.
VOICE: And now its time for Flog TV World News.
<The announcer is sitting behind the sort of desk that announcers are usually
found behind of. He looks like any other TV announcer.>
Good evening. This is Flog TV World News. Being less hypocritical then most
news producers we realize that what the viewers want is not important
information about socially relevants events, or business, or politics, or any
of that crap. We, unlike any other TV Station, pay attention to the ratings,
which clearly show that what you, the viewer, really want is lots of pure
unadulterated violence.
<Camera shifts to a basement room with barebrick walls. A man is sitting in a
char, tied to it with lots of rope. There is a desk with papers and
cigarrette butts strewn all over, as well as a floodlight pointing at the
man's face. Two guys in trenchcoats and fedoras are asking him questions.>
Normally, you would be shown a very short clip of this alleged torture
committed by alledged CIA agents, followed by a long and boring narrative
about how CIA allegedly commites torture and how Amnesty International
doesn't like that. Well, we are going to skip all that crap, and will just
show you the torture.
CIA Man#1: Still won't talk, eh? Well, maybe this will change your mind.
<He pulls out a pair of tweezers and starts pulling out the man's chest hairs>
Man tied to chair: Ouch! That smarts! ARghh! Stop that! Ourghh! Ouch!
Ouch! <THis goes on for a couple of minutes>
CIA man#2: Maybe you could try his nose hairs.
CIA man#1: GOod idea.
<CIA man#1 starts pulling out a nose hair. It turns out to be a particularly
long one. After about two feet of it are pulled out it suddenly expands in
diameter. It is now obvious that they were actually pulling out a giant
booger with very thin end. With a /sploosh!/ the booger comes out >
CIA man#2: This is grody to the max! Lie, gag me with a spoon.
CIA man#1: Its not that bad. <He pulls out a packet of ketchup, pours it on
the booger> Look, if you don't talk, I'll eat this while you watch!
<Man tied to chair squirms, then closes his eyes>
CIA #1: That won't work, wise guy.
<CIA #2 pulls out some scotch tape, and they tape his eyes open.>
Tortured man: No, please, don't make me watch that! Please! Anything but
that! <He squirms some more. CIA #1 starts bringing the ketchup covered
booger closer to his mouth> AARGHHHHHHH! PLEASE! STOP!
CIA#2: So, where is the safehouse?
Tortured man: I WILL NEVER TALK! ARGHHHH!
<CIA #1 eats the ketchup covered booger as the man's eyes do bizarre loops in
their socket>
<Camera shifts back to announcer>
THis has been Flog TV news GOod night.
 
--- Maximus-CBCS v1.02
* Origin: It's a beautiful day in the... Tentacles 613-512-0077 (1:163/106)
 
 
 
From: Feminine Hygiene Suppliers
To: Woman Who Smell Down There Msg #54, 01:08 est 90-11-10
Subject: Freshness...
Scene: Breakfast table. Mother and daughter are sitting there, eating
bran-flakes. An incredible amount of sunlight is coming through the window
and the camera lens has been smeared with enough vaseline for a major
homosexual orgy, in order to give the scene that hazy hazy look of a bad
acide trip.

Mom: "Now, c'mon dear, you can tell me! I changed your diapers for years!"

Daughter: "Well mom, sometimes I don't feel FRESH."

Mom: "What do you mean?"

Daughter: "Er, well, I don't feel clean?"

Mom: "So take a bath."

Daughter: "No, mom... I mean, er, down there..."

Mom: "Out with it dear, what is it?"

Daughter: "Mom, will you douche me?"

Mom: (odd gleam in her eye) "When?!"

Daughter: (moves intimately close to her mom, taking her hand) "Now mom, now!"

Mom and daughter neck passionately with lots of tongue. Mom leads daughter
into the bathroom where lots of odd sexual equipement hangs from shower
curtain bars, towel racks, etc. Daughter lies down on wooden table, mother
rips off daughters clothing and shoves a nozzle DEEP into her daughter's
privates.

(While narrator speaks, Mom sets up the douce bag and fondles her
daughters breasts, a low moaning from both women is heard)

Narrator: "When you want to feel fresh, it's time for a nice intimate douche.
Masengil provides a CLEANSING warmth that will leave you tingling for days
with HOT MOIST happiness..."

Daughter: (lets out long moan) "Let's do it again, except this time I'll be
the mother and you be the daughter."

Mom: (grinning happily) "Alright"

Narrator: "Trust Masengil for twisted lesbian fantasy sexual play."
 
--- Opus-CBCS 1.14
* Origin: * CJFC * The Real Flog Channel * 733-1754 * (1:163/207.1)
 
From: Incestomy Street
To: All Little Kids Msg #55, 03:27 est 90-11-10
Subject: "Want some candy?"
A million little retarded children (products of incestuous relationships?) run
about, singing the theme song.

"Sunny days... Sweeping the uh..."

Eventually the music just stops and the credits run by in
silence. Eventually we see big bird and the Snuffleupagus. "Snuffy" has his
trunk lodged firmly in big birds butt. Big Bird is making odd squawking
sounds.

BB: (Moans) "Snuffy, oh, snuffy...."
Snuffy: "Take it all, Bird."

Gordon, an actual human being, not a muppet, rushes out.

Gordon: "You two are a disgrace to Jim Henson's dead soul! Jim Henson would
be ashamed! Two muppets having sex! It's disgraceful!"

BB: "Fuck you Gordon!"

Big Bird, using his large yellow beak, tears off Gordon's head. Blood sprays
everywhere as Gordon's body thrashes about. Camera angle swifts quickly
away, focussing on something else, therefore sparing little kids from
watching Big Bird and Snuffy eat the corpse.

Switch to Cartoon:

Animated character: "S is for succulent young body, sexual molestation, and
sticky fingers."

Animated character turns into a demon and screams: "Don't play with yourself
or Satan will kill you! I saw that little Billy! Satan's coming! Satan's
coming!"

Two little animated men in white coats take away the first animated character.
Another character comes out and reminds kiddies that Satan also starts with
S.

Switch back to Big Bird and Snuffy, who are coverred in blood. Gordon is no
where to be seen, but there seems to be a pile of torn bloody clothing,
bones, and big clumps of skin and hair.

BB: (Belches) "Now where were we snuffy?"
Snuffy: (chortles) "I think I know." (Snuffy shoves his trunk back into Big
Bird's rectum)

Switch to a group of handicapped kids sitting in a room. No adult is present,
and they're passing around a joint. Some adult type, Betty, enters, someone
quickly hides the joint.

Betty: (naively) "It sure smells funny in here!"
kid#1: "Open a window then you dumb cunt."
Betty: "That wasn't nice, small child."

Kid#2: "Screw you you bimbo."
Betty: (starts crying) "I fucking hate children, what the hell am I doing on
this fucking show? Somebody call my agent!"

Betty rushes off, and the joint reapears and is passed about.
 
--- Opus-CBCS 1.14
* Origin: * CJFC * The Real Flog Channel * 733-1754 * (1:163/207.1)
 
From: Dave The Talking Asshole
To: Stupid Children Msg #56, 03:40 est 90-11-10
Subject: Cartoons!!!
Announcer: "And now it's time for DAVE THE TALKING RECTUM!"

Cartoon credits with following theme song:

Song: "Yes it's DAVE, DAVE, DAVE the talking rectum,
His way is PAVED, PAVED, with morose introspection!
He whines, he cries, he makes a fuss,
He looks at the world with disgust,
Because he's DAVE DAVE DAVE,
Dave the talking Rectum!"

Too Happy Narrator Voice: "Today on Dave the Talking Rectum, Dave meets some
really super keen kids whom he discusses philosophy with."

Scene: Kids sitting around on a street corner. Kids are all white, blon, blue
eyed, and extremely innocent looking. Dave the talking Rectum walks up.

Dave: (Extremely depressed) "Hello kids."
Chipper kids answer as one: "HI DAVE!"

Dave: "God you kids are stupid and naive. Christ, when I was your age I was
already addicted to heroin and was kicked out of the house."

Kid: "What's heroine, Dave? Is that like Wonder Woman?"

Dave: "Fuck are you stupid. Heroin is a drug that you inject. Here, wrap this
tube around your arm, I'll get my needles out."

Kid: "Ok dave." (wraps tube around arm real tight, hand turns noticeably blue.)

dave: "Now here's the needle, and you gotta find the vein..."

Kid#2: "There's the vein Dave!"

Dave: (sarcasticly) "Thank you ever so fucking much."

Dave injects the heroin, kids eyes go glazed, he slumps to the ground, and
spasms a bit, then spasms a lot. A white foam comes from his mouth, and the
spasming intensifies.

Dave: "Gee kids, looks like this fuckhead is O.D.ing. What a shit, i thought
he had a strong enough metabolism. Oh well."

Kids: "What'll we do now Dave?"

Dave: "Ever been on a shoplifting spree kids?"

Narrator: "And so Dave the talking Rectum made many friends that day, most of
whom ended up in the juvenile detention center, where they were beaten and
raped. I hope you had fun today with Dave the Talking Rectum, I know that I
did."

Credits role by with lots and lots of japanese names for the animators.
Last line: "Brought to you by the Japanese Council for the Degredation of
North American Culture."

Fade to black.
 
--- Opus-CBCS 1.14
* Origin: * CJFC * The Real Flog Channel * 733-1754 * (1:163/207.1)
 
From: An Old Western Flick
To: Morons Msg #57, 03:51 est 90-11-10
Subject: Simple Ideals for Simple Minds
Flog Logo: A large baby, obviously dead and rotting, wearing a dirty T-shirt
that says "FLOG CHANNEL" on it.

Voice: "And now it's time for the Late Late movie... Tonight's film:
'How the West Was Won By Slaughtering Indians' starring some guy who
looks a lot like John Way