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Logfile LOG9605B Part 5

May 10, 1996

File: "FORKNI-L LOG9605B" Part 5

	TOPICS (Continuing List Wars--FK War II post from parts 3 & 4):
	The Damage that has been Done
	FKWARS: Amazing Grace
	FK WARS2:  Plastic Power
	FKWarsII--Traitor at the Gates
	FKWAR2: Dreaming of the Fright
	FK Wars II: FoDly plans
	FK WARS : A New Operative
	FKWars2: More Trouble Than You Can Shake a Stick At[part1/2]
	FKWARSII--Sandra Is Confused [part 1/2]
	FK Wars II: She's Baaaackkk
	FK War II: In Which A New Virus Is Set Loose

Date:         Wed, 6 Jul 1994 17:27:47 EDT
From: SelmaMc@a.......
Subject:      The Damage that has been Done

Selma looked at the email message in horror. "Virus? what virus?"
she said in confusion. "You mean that huge block of nonsense that
arrived in my mail was a virus? Good thing I deleted it." Good
thing, she thought, that AOL couldn't receive internet files.

"Brian couldn't have done it," she said quietly, knowing that her
fellow Knightie was innocent. She contacted her friends, Valerie
and Sharon.

From: selmamc@a.......
Subj: The Virus

This is hoping this gets through....

I think that someone is trying to discredit Brian and I think I
know who...

I also have a plan.


She sent that out, and then tried to contact Brian. He wasn't home
and she was afraid that something had happened to him.

"Cousins, for sure," she said. "Now who could have done that?"

She considered, and remembered how good Cousin John was with
computers. She resolved to do something about his troublemaking.
She booked a flight from Sac Metro in the evening, with a
round-trip ticket for later that night.

Arriving at John's door, she applied her lockpicking lessons to the
door and got in. Going through the place, she gathered up all the
disks she could find and put them in her sack. She noticed the
scared-looking rabbit and picked the rabbit up too.

She managed to get out of his place and sneak off stealthily. She
wondered how much it would cost to get the rabbit back home.
Probably a bit. Oh, well, she thought, as she went to the airport,
rabbit in tow.

to be continued...
Date:         Wed, 6 Jul 1994 19:03:33 EDT
From: Sylvia Colston <BlackIris@a.......>
Subject:      FKWARS: Amazing Grace

"Date: 94-07-06 01:10:50 EDT
From: Black Iris
Subj: Hey Girlfriend!

Hey Girlfriend!  How's life?  I haven't heard from you in a while
so I thought I'd drop you a line.  I'm in Chesapeake now and, yes,
it's much warmer than Maine was (Brrrrrr).  Maine was prettier,
though.  No moose here, but lots of wolves, esp. on the beach.

I need to tell you a bit of news.  I can't go into much detail, for
reasons I can't go into.  Nat and Det. Knight are going to be under
a bit of pressure in the next few weeks.  I should say, a bit more
pressure than usual.  Some old "friends" of the good Detective are
planning some trouble for him on the .net.  It will probably be
isolated to the .net, but you never know, so keep your head down
and your eyes open, chica.  I wish I could say more, but I'm sworn
to secrecy! (shhhhhhhh)  Mainly I think they're going to need moral
support (or immoral, knowing you, you bad thang!)

Killer says "woof."  (That's terrier-talk for "Hi, Grace.  She's
being awfully mysterious, ain't she?"  Yes, terriers can say a lot
with a woof.)


Grace sat back and pondered this bit of mail.  It seemed that she
was always surrounded by secrets, and didn't she like figuring them
out!  Nat had been in a bit of a dither the past few days, and
Grace had been worried.  Now it seemed she had cause.  "Old
'friends', huh?  I wonder...."  She typed a response to her
erstwhile penpal and logged off.

"Date: 94-07-06 15:33:45 EDT
From: AmazGrace@a.......
Subj: Re: Hey Girlfriend!

Hey Girlfriend yourself!  Since when are you black  :  ) ?  Thanks
for the warning, Iris.  I thought something might be up, but I
wasn't sure how to ask Natalie about it.  You go on and keep your
secrets, I know you have people to protect and I won't pry.

I'm glad you're finally warm again, btw.  Why in the world did you
go to Maine in the wintertime?  I would have thought staying a
little closer to home until spring would have been better.  You
told me Dallas was nice in the wintertime.  Personally I would have

Talk to you soon, 'girlfriend' ( :  )  ) ,
Date:         Wed, 6 Jul 1994 21:52:35 -0400
From: Ivy Reisner <reisner@p.......>
Subject:      FK WARS2:  Plastic Power

     Ivy sat at her keyboard at work.  She never saw the first fk
wars, never declared her alliance for the second.  Perhaps that was
for the better now that the database was stolen.  She searched the
database for any credit cards under the name LaCroix and found both
a Visa and a Mastercard.  Well, Nick might not approve, but she'd
put her job, and the access it provided, to strike a blow of her

     *Let's see.  Fifteen thousand dollar charge, that should be
good, drive him right over his credit limit.  Now we'll change his
last payment date to six months ago, good, his credit bureau report
should be updated this weekend and he'd be sent to a collection

        Satisfied she updated the accounts, then started her search
for accounts of other known cousins.  Nick definitely would not
approve.  She only hoped the other knighties would have her after
Date:         Wed, 6 Jul 1994 18:08:50 EDT
From: SusanG2522@a.......
Subject:      FKWarsII--Traitor at the Gates

Traitor at the Gates

        The fax sat on her coffee table, beside the computer.  The
boxes were piled on the floor, beside the partially stained wall
unit, which held the television and VCR.
        Cousin Laurie picked up the fax again, read it, then looked
at the boxes in dismay.  Up until now, it had all been pretty much
a game.  She'd sent the fax to Janette almost on a whim.  But here
it was--put up or shut up.  Monica, it seemed, had pissed off
Janette royally by defecting.  And now Janette had dropped the ball
into Laurie's court.
        For ex-Ravenette Monica was now a Cousin.  And it was up to
ex-Cousin, now Ravenette, Laurie to earn her wings by showing
Monica exactly what it mean to cross one of the original dark
        Laurie very carefully opened the cover of the cardboard box
and looked inside.  For a moment, the glare dazzled her.  But then
she got a really good look.  There was only one reaction--


        Cousin Sandye was typing frantically at her computer,
trying to figure out the vagaries of AOL and casting vicious
glances at that horrible mouse that the interface seemed to require
too often.  It had been a busy morning for herself and visiting
Cousin Monica.  They'd had breakfast (but NOT at the Waffle House)
and had tooled around for a while on odd errands.  By the time
they'd gotten back they were bushed.  Monica had fallen asleep on
the bed in the corner of the room as the television behind them
blared a succession of inane children's daytime programming.
        An occasional rustling sound bothered Sandye.  She looked
across the dining room, but Shane wasn't in the garbage and was
happily asleep in the kitchen doorway.  Shrugging her shoulders,
she turned again to the screen and peered at the bright AOL menus,
trying to figure out where she was and where she wanted to go.
        A sudden shriek from behind her gave her a start.  Sandye
pushed back the chair and leapt to her feet, her heart in her
        And it stayed there. Monica, who'd gone to sleep in a shirt
and jeans, was now sitting upright in the bed wearing what only
could be described as the most hideous gold lame' peignoir set ever
devised in any Dynasty inspired nightmare.
        For a few seconds, all Monica could manage were incoherent
sounds, ranging from outrage, to shock, to absolute horror.  She
sat quite still because the damn thing rustled every time she
moved.  Sandye, for her own part, kept her hands over her eyes and
started hunting around for her sunglasses--the gold lame' shone
brilliantly from every stray gleam of light from the balcony.
        Finally, Monica dropped to the floor and lifted up her
suitcase, desperate to find something--ANYTHING--else to wear, so
that she could get on with trying to figure out what had happened.
But her limited--her mom had packed a pillow--wardrobe was gone,
replaced by other equally hideous clothing.  Some of it was gold
lame', others were cunningly devised fuschia patterns of scorpions
(with babies on their backs) and coyotes.  All in all, it was
heinous stuff.
        "I can't go out wearing this!" cried Monica.
        "Well, you can't stay here wearing <that>," answered
Sandye, taking her hand from her eyes for a moment as she searched
her pocketbook for her sunglasses.  Almost immediately, the gold
lame' stunned her and she dropped her hands over her eyes again.
"Okay, who took my sunglasses!  They were here.  I know they were
here.  Somebody stole my sunglasses.  Or I left them at--no.  Wait
a minute.  Here they are."
        The situation didn't look any better once she was wearing
the sunglasses.  It was then that she realized that Shane had
covered his eyes and snout with his paws and Gwen had become a
shivering bundle of bunny at the bottom of his cage.
        "It had to be Janette!" growled Monica.  "Only she'd know
where to get her hands on stuff like this."
        "Guess she didn't like the phone call."
        "Well, too bad.  If she thinks--"  Then Monica paused.
"She sent somebody over here, didn't she?"
        "Shane would've barked if someone came in.  And the door
was locked.  It would have had to have been somebody with a key,
somebody that Shane knows."
        They stared at one another for a moment because they knew
exactly who had been the perpetrator of this evil deed.


        Back in her apartment, Laurie send off a message to Alma,
conveying the report of her attack to Janette.  She'd heard
Monica's initial scream through two closed doors.  Grinning, she
finished typing the message, then returned to playing with her
        Being a Ravenette wasn't all that different from being a
Cousin, she decided, lifting her glass of wine.  And maybe just a
little bit better.  Uncle, after all, didn't provide an allowance
for bar tabs.
        And, unlike Janette, he always asked for receipts . . . .

w/ the permission of the very busy ex-Cousin Laurie)
Date:         Thu, 7 Jul 1994 05:20:07 -0500
From: "Cousin Monica@l......." <sac116@p.......>
Subject:      FKWAR2: Dreaming of the Fright

                Dreaming of the Fright

     Poor, poor Susan.  Poor, dear Susan.  I guess after a weekend
with the cousins, even Janette's creative consultant could get a
bit looped.  The drive to Toms River had been longer than she
expected...road construction, traffic, the occasional diversion
from her thermal roadmap...yes...poor, dear Susan was at the end of
her rope.
     Finally back at her home, Susan dragged herself in through the
door and up to her waiting computer.  It had been almost ten hours
since she last checked her mail, and with the war-train steaming
ahead, she needed to keep abreast of all the new developments.  But
there was Walter Mathau, whining for water and eager for a friendly
     "I missed you too, grumpy..."  But the little dog was acting
mighty strange.  It must have been Shane's hair on her
clothes...either that, or Sandye had wiped the chicken off the wall
with her shirt.  Regardless, her furry friend was NOT happy to
smell the lingering scent of Sandye's menagerie.  Susan had no
choice but to turn her attentions to the dog.
     Later on that evening, she managed to make it back to her
computer.  Yawn.....Yawn......Yawn......Yawn......Susan logged on
to her AOL account, and as she clicked her mouse and moved her
fingers uncertainly over the keyboard, the final stages of fatigue
set viciously upon her.


     Susan woke with a start.
     "God, how long have I been asleep?"  She looked to Walter, but
Walter didn't care.  After all, he was only a dog.  Looking for the
clock, she stumbled into the kitchen.
     "Five in the morning?  I've got to be to work by eight."
Through bleary eyes, Susan hit the button to acquire her mail...at
least she could read it before leaving.  One by one, the war posts
scrolled by, one by Cousin Sandye, one by Cousin Monica, one
     "WHAT!!!!!!"  Poor Walter.  It was ten minutes to Whopner and
it would take at least a hour to scrape the poor little guy off of
the ceiling.  Susan's unbelieving eyes scanned across the message
she had mistakingly sent sometime during the night.
     "But I <didn't> write anything!"  Poor Walter.  Mom was slowly
losing her marbles and all he could do was to hang there and
     Shaking with fear, not to mention sleep deprivation, Susan
read the bogus message called, Traitor at the Gates.  She couldn't
believe what she had done.  Sleeping at the computer was one thing,
dreaming was another...especially when one has over-active fingers
(well, four anyway).  But to have written out her dream and posted
it?  Poor Walter.  Mom would never be quite the same again.
     And what a dream! Gold lame?  Coyote clothes?  Scorpions?
That's the last time she'd let Cousin Sandye cook for her!  Must
have been the chicken...somehow the evil cousins had laced hers
with a slow acting sleep agent...Poor Walter.  The view was nice
from up there, but when all was said and done, he would have rather
gone to Epcot.
     Susan read on, terror filled her heart.  Poor Walter.  It
seemed the whining would never stop...funny, Mom never made sounds
like that before.
     "It doesn't even make sense.  How did the peignoir set get on
Monica?  Everyone knows that Monica wakes up violently if you touch
her.  There was no way that this could ever have happened.  Racing
to the kitchen cupboard, she reached up for the bottle of Amaretto;
ripping off the cap with her teeth, she downed the browned juice.
Poor Walter. He'd never get a walk at this rate.  At least if he
had to go, she was in no condition to punish him.
     Poor Susan.
     Poor Walter.

Cousins Sandye, Monica, and Dennis
Date:         Thu, 7 Jul 1994 10:21:01 EDT
From: Pamela Rush <PKRUSH01@u.......>
Subject:      FK Wars II: FoDly plans

Wednesday, July 6, lunch time:  The Macaroni Grill & Cantina (KY)

   "Tony's making rellenos and salsa chile rojo for dinner."
   "That's perfect, Sher.  Call him and tell him to make *lots* and
put in extra garlic."
   "Why?  You guys coming over?"
   "No, we've got tons of moussaka left over from the Fourth party
and a lot of guests brought dishes and left stuff, too.  I have a
feeling that it's a good idea to stock up on supplies, just in
   "Now, Pamela, you *know* FoDs don't get involved --"
   "No, no, no -- I wouldn't think of it.  Nothing like actually
interfering, or mixing it up, or taking them on, or going mano a
mano --"
   "Ok!  I get your drift.  But *no* involvement is the FoDly way."
   "We won't get involved; we'll just be prepared.  And, of course,
if we happen to have a lot of extra supplies at hand, we could
offer a little sympathy, comfort and sustenance where it will do
the most good."
   "Yeah, I guess that wouldn't hurt."
   "So, call Tony after lunch and tell him to make a really big
batch of rellenos; I have moussaka, humus, taramosalata, kim chee,
babaghannoush, guacamole, yaun pla muek, ratatouille, paella, moo
goo gai pan --"
   "Wait a minute.  Moo goo gai pan doesn't have any garlic in it!"
   "I know, but it's Schanke's favorite carry-out."
   "Well, in that case, you know...you haven't included anything
that, uh, Nick would eat."
   "Sherry, from what I hear, this whole mess is really his fault."
   "Yeah, maybe, but...he's just so...."
   "Hopeless?  Helpless?  Clueless?"
   "No!  Well, sometimes, but...."
   "I know, I know.  You just have a soft spot for chubby-cheeked
blonds.  Ok.  How about some blood sausage?  I have some in the
freezer.  I could whip up a batch of 'Ducks Blood Soup,' but I
don't think it would travel very well."
   "No, the sausage will be fine.  Just so he knows we didn't
forget him."
   "You wanna send Dr. Lambert some microwave popcorn so she'll
know we didn't forget *her*?"
   "That's not the same.  How are we going to get this shipment to
Toronto?  We know the mail has been compromised and I'm not sure
that the phone and computer lines are secure anymore, either."
   "Oh, well, FoDs don't have any secrets! <giggle>  Still, I'm
going to set up our number one alternate supply route and I'll look
for at least one reliable communications route, too."

TO:    NatPackers, Knighties & Die-Hards
FROM:  Pam Rush, FoD
DATE:  Wednesday, July 6, 1994
SUBJ:  Supplies

Our lines of communication to Toronto have been disrupted but
information discovered on the Internet and in the Die-Hards
informative leaflet has persuaded the Bluegrass FoDs that foul play
is involved and we fear that the Toronto allies may be severely
harassed by that delusional madman LaCroix again.

FoDs are at less than full-strength currently:  Merle is off-line
and we can't get Cal down off the ceiling (where she has been since
her visit with Det. Schanke last month).  Don's whereabouts are
unknown but one should never discount him as a force to be reckoned
with if he gets irritated.  Of course, FoDs won't engage in war,
per se, unless our souvlaki supply is threatened, but we are
anxious to continue to lend support and sustenance to those
factions aligned with Det. Schanke's partner.

Although Schanke himself will remain blissfully unaware of the
darker machinations of that delusional madman LaCroix, we know,
too, that he will be, as always, stolidly/ *solidly* standing at
his partner's shoulder when the need is great.

We  are establishing secret supply lines to Toronto that, I think,
neither LaCroix nor his deluded and deranged henchpersons can know
<to be continued...>
Date:         Fri, 8 Jul 1994 10:04:00 -0700
From: Ava Chan-Crowder <ava.chan-crowder@w.......>
Subject:      FK WARS : A New Operative

6 July 1994
12 noon, PDT

Ava put down her copy of the San Diego Union Tribune classified ads
and her neon yellow highlighter.  She rubbed her eyes.  Darn tiny
print!  Reading the Sunday want ads was starting to really get on
her nerves.  "Unemployment really sucks.  There must be something
out there for me to do", she thought to herself.  Slowly a smile
spread across her face.  She knew what she could do.  It was time
to get to work....work that she knew in her heart of hearts that
she would enjoy.

She turned on her IBM and logged onto her local BBS....
-Internet Conference-
-Send email-
To :                    SelmaMc@a.......
>From :          ava.chan-crowder@w.......
Subject :       New Operative

Hi Sharon and Selma -

I have been lurking for the past couple of months, and I am now
ready to join in the war.  Being unemployed, I have all the time in
the world, and I now submit myself to be your newest operative.
Luckily, my affiliation wasn't known when Nick's laptop was stolen,
(my application is still sitting in front of me) all available
information about myself is also at a minimum (no Barney fears
here).  Additionally, there is nothing here to keep me in San Diego
during the war...football season hasn't started yet and there are
no current job prospects.  I am available ASAP wherever the
Knighties need me.  I look forward to working with you all.

~~~Ava :-)      AvaABC123@a.......
"If we don't stand together/we stand to lose the future"
And the message was sent to the active Knighties that Ava knew
of... except for that Brian Gerstel, who last she had heard, was
still being held by the authorities.  She didn't know if he was
actually in their custody, or if it was false information spread by
the Cousins.  Either way, she thought it was best that neither the
Feds nor the Cousins knew of her intention to participate in the

All that was left to do now, was to pack some clothes and various
other items.....and wait for a reply from either Selma or Sharon.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
*  West Coast Connection - San Diego, CA - PCBoard MultiNode BBS
*  SysOp: don.presten@w....... - (619) 449-8333 - 24 hours
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Date:         Wed, 6 Jul 1994 19:03:03 -0800
From: "S. Tanaquil Johnson" <sarajnsn@v.......>
Subject:      FKWars2: More Trouble Than You Can Shake a Stick At[part1/2]--

More Trouble Than You Can Shake A Stick At

Wheezing athsmatically, the ancient and Agonizingly Slow
StyleWriter on Tanaquil's desk printed out the last of the most
recent installments of the War.  *Keeping up with these shenanigans
is becoming a full time job*, she reflected.  Everything else had
ground to a halt.  Tanaquil was positive that the six-foot weeds in
the garden were Cousins.  She could hear them laughing at her.
Dissertation?  What dissertation?  Ptolemy Philopator, the Jews and
the five hundred drunken elephants would have to do without her.
There was a War on.

It was time to make contact.

From:  pinax5@g.......
Subject: NatPack


Sharon H., Valerie, what's going on?  The NatPack has been awfully
quiet in the midst of all these bunny-nappings and Barney jokes.
What's the grand plan?

I don't know if I appeared on your list of Natalie's supporters.
I never got Laurie's message about declaring affiliations, so I
don't know if the Cousins even know I exist.  They seem to have
their sources, though.  I got an incomprehensible message last
night from Laurie responding to a message I started but never sent.
Weird, huh?  I'm using an old common departmental account until I
can get the security on my own account checked out.

Anyway, Sharon H., if you're organizing the NatPack, count me in.
In fact, I have an idea I'd like to run by you...



As the DC10 touched down lightly on the runway of the Oakland
airport, Tanaquil tossed aside *Love's Savage Bosom* and allowed
herself a very small smile of satisfaction.  It was a pity to have
to use up those frequent flier miles, but it was in a good cause.
With any luck, Cousin John wouldn't discover the hidden video
camera she'd left running until it was too late, and she would be
able to get a really good shot of the look on his face to convert
into a GIF for the list's collection...

[end of

S. Tanaquil Johnson  <sarajnsn@v.......>

Date:         Fri, 8 Jul 1994 05:43:58 -0500
From: TMP_HARKINS@d.......
Subject:      FKWARSII--Sandra Is Confused [part 1/2]-----------------------

July 6, 1994, 5:30 PM:

     "Hi, hon," said Bruce, as he came in the front door and
plopped gratefully into the living room recliner.
     "Long day at work?"
     He nodded and sighed.  Then he said, "I'm glad my vacation
starts tomorrow.  Where's Amanda?"
     "Outside playing."
     A slight smile crossed Bruce's face.  "I _did_ find something
interesting _after_ work today, though."
     'Not another book for the burgeoning book collection, I hope,'
I thought.  Bruce reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a
small leaflet.  "New religious tract?" I asked, since he collected
them too.
     "No.  But something amusing.  Here."  He held out his hand and
I took the piece of paper from him.  It read:

To Whom It May Concern:
Our party is aware that a second war has begun.  We wish to inform
everyone involved, that we will be playing a more active role this
time.  If you wish more information, you can contact your group
leader.  We hope that with our involvement, this war can be
conducted with a modicum of civility, and lack of bloodshed.

Yours Sincerely,
Dawn Steele
Chief Die-Hard (one-year term)

     "Isn't it wild?" asked Bruce, grinning.
     I looked at him.  "This is something you faked, isn't it?  A
joke, right?"
     "No, I swear I didn't make this up.  But it _is_ funny."
     "But if you didn't do this, who did?"
     "Maybe it's from Dawn."
     "Oh, come on!  That would be taking the Wars fiction a bit too
far, don't you think?  I mean, that would mean she's 'flipped a
gourd.'"  Bruce merely shrugged, still smiling.  I frowned,
     As far as I knew, none of our friends were "Forever Knight"
fans.  Of course, I _had_ corresponded with some FORKNI-L folks off
list--could one of them have done this as a prank?  "How did you
get this?" I asked.
     "I found it on my windshield after I finished looking around
at the mall."
     "Just on our car?"
     "No.  Looked like a lot of other cars had them."
     That was rather far to take a joke, even if printing the
leaflets was relatively cheap.
     'Now, don't let your writer's imagination run wild,' I thought
to myself.  'There has to be a reasonable explanation for this.'
But my thoughts crept to a science fiction idea about a world where
a man's real life and death were filmed for _entertainment_.  But
that couldn't apply to "Forever Knight."  It was just a TV show.
     I looked over at the computer.  It was an old DEC Rainbow 100
that we had hooked up while our good computer was under repair.
Bruce had said it was too primitive for any exotic "computer
viruses" to affect it--not that we would be targets for any of that
anyway.  Bruce had declared on the list that he was a Die-Hard, but
it appeared most people had forgotten that.  And _I_ had never
declared an affiliation at all (that could be useful).
     What was I thinking?  This "Wars" stuff couldn't be real.
Could it?

[end of part
--Sandra Gray
Date:         Wed, 6 Jul 1994 13:34:00 PDT
From: M'lady Printcap the goddess of peripherals <jennise@d.......>
Subject:      FK Wars II: She's Baaaackkk


Jennise stands at the window staring out at the moon. She taps her
foot anxiously. LaCroix hands her a wine glass.

                September grows closer.

                Not close enough.

                Is everything ready?

                If checked with the producers
                yesterday. They found a way to
                switch the companies episodes
                with yours.

                And our episodes?

                Sixteen in the can. They look


                So it's going to be pretty boring
                around here for a while.

                I supposed you have an idea of how
                to break the boredom?

                Oh definitely. Haven't you been
                checking the list? The war started
                last weekend.

                And you and the Cousins can't wait
                to jump in?


He quirks an eyebrow at her.

                I was pretty damn independent before one
                of those Cousins set me up. Not that I
                regret our meeting. But I had refused to
                tie myself to anyone.

LaCroix advances on her.

                You've got ties to me.

                Well yes. But, you see, I consider
                myself a Daughter of LaCroix. I'm not
                one of _them_. What I meant to say
                was that I'm not tied to the Cousins.

                They have my protection.

                I owe them! At least I owe Karin.

                And you'd like revenge.

                Cut me loose on this one. I
                promise not to make too big
                a mess.

LaCroix considers for a long moment.

                I suppose you deserve some reward
                for the episodes you've written. Remember
                our bargain.

                I do these eps. You'll make me the
                hottest thing in television.

                Don't make 'too big a mess.'

                I can do it? All the groups are fair

                This should prove interesting.


She throws her arms around LaCroix and plants a kiss on his cheek.

                Thank you!

He stares incredulously at her.


She dashes to the door.

                I'm gonna enjoy this!

Date:         Wed, 6 Jul 1994 23:27:13 -0500
From: "Sharon S. Scott" <SCOTTS@b.......>
Subject:      FK War II: In Which A New Virus Is Set Loose

July 6, 1994

Dear Diary,

Another undecided has chosen the Knighties! Ivy makes ... 1 ... 2
... 3 ... oh, who knows, a lot, anyway. Knighties don't seem to
have that same "herd" instinct that the Cousins do. We don't travel
in packs, like hyenas or warthogs. Let's see, what's the
appropriate appellation? A murder of Cousins? A den of Cousins? A
squabbling of Cousins? A venom of Cousins? Whatever they call
themselves, they seem to have no minds of their own--they have to
have Uncle to tell them what to do. Usually in great detail and
very slowly. Makes one wonder what they do when there's no one to
give them instructions.

The NatPackers seem to be going into "helper" mode. The Ravens and
Ravenettes seem to be hurling accusations at one another. The FoDs
probably won't do anything unless their souvlaki supply is
threatened. And the FoSsils are still an unknown quantity. And the
AlmaDens haven't been heard from at all. I still wonder what would
happen if Janette wasn't around to put the lid on dear sweet Alma.
I have to feel pity for her--we all know what it's like to be under
the thumb of an irascible boss. And all poor Alma ever wanted to be
was a dancing doctor. Looks like she'll never get her wish unless,
somehow, she can break away from Janette.

Haven't heard from Nicholah since yesterday, and I'm beginning to
get worried. If anything happens to him, I think quite a few of us
will walk out into the sunlight, sans sunblock and dark glasses.
But we'll take a few of the Cousins with us, willingly or not.

Tim called a few minutes ago. He's put his plan into action. He
explained it to me *again*, but it's way over my head. I still
don't know Unix from a hole in the ground, and to me, C is a grade,
and Pascal is a writer. ASCII I know about, because of the library
system and the net, but I still think modems work by means of
magic. Tim swears the thing will have the desired effect, but I'm
not so sure. It's awfully easy, I've heard, to trace things like
that back to the source. And I DO NOT want the FBI, the FCC, the
ATF, the fundamentalists, or the Daughters of the Texas Revolution
descending on the campus. We have about all we can handle with
cheerleading camp and hordes of junior high debaters as it is.
............ Now there's an idea--free food for LaCroix! YES!

Wonder if Laurie has managed to get Irving off her car hood yet?
She ought to be thankful I didn't install a tape of "The Eyes of
Texas" in the thing. But somehow I doubt she is.

I'm so happy that Hazel is safe. Poor bunny. Will she ever be the
same after her horrible experience? Will she be traumatized? Will
she truly turn into Bunnicula? Did she wreak her revenge on John
before she was rescued?

No word on what's happened to Lisa. Is she still in the clutches of
the FBI? If I know catalogers, and I *do*, she'll figure some way
out of this mess. Catalogers learn the rules, and then spend the
rest of their working lives bending them.

And I'm worried about Cousin Margaret. She's young, and easily
swayed--that's probably how she became a Cousin. She didn't know
any better. Or Cara drove her to it.  I know what a delicate
stomach she has, and having to ... ummm ... clean up after
LaCroix's little accident couldn't have been pleasant. And while
she's being LaCroix's minion, who's taking care of her animals? Did
she take them with her? Is LaCroix being threatened at this very
moment by Jamie the VamPeke?

Well, all will become clear in time, I suppose. Stay tuned.

A demain.


Sharon S.

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