From alt.pub.dragons-inn Tue Sep 26 16:48:53 1995
Xref: netcom.com alt.pub.dragons-inn:8738
Path: netcom.com!ix.netcom.com!howland.reston.ans.net!vixen.cso.uiuc.edu!uwm.edu!caen!reeve.research.aa.wl.com!WS0080138F2117!simonj
From: simonj@rh.wl.com (Jeff Simon)
Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn
Subject: Re: [Inn] Chapter 1/1: The Dark Stranger- New Character- Garak
Date: Mon, 25 Sep 1995 03:40:06 EDT
Organization: Parke-Davis Rochester
Lines: 52
Message-ID: <simonj.255.00217BBB@rh.wl.com>
References: <44405b$mnp@newsbf02.news.aol.com>
NNTP-Posting-Host: 198.205.215.173
X-Newsreader: Trumpet for Windows [Version 1.0 Rev B final beta #4]


A tutti-frutti skinned midget of a man slams the oaken front door of the Inn
unsoundly shut, breaking it in half while simultaneously wrenching it from
its hinges.  Corn-ridden feet in desperate need of a pedicure clump mincingly
across the floorboards, which somehow creak under his insignificant bulk.  A
mauvey, pinky-russet sort of mane cascades down the back of his neck like
a waterfall of Strawberrysaurus Rex Kool-aid, and his steely purple gaze 
ricochettes off your adamantite souls.  He stands unerect, stupidity carved
into his stiff features.  He approaches the bar with a quick, waltzing mince 
that is somehow menacing in its silliness.

Now situated at a right angle slightly to the side of the small serving board
in the tavern main, his worldly leer caused the hair upon the onlooker's nape
to stand on end, rip itself off, and flee in terror.  Now the onlooker is 
completely bald.  Fearing that he will catch a nasty head-cold, the onlooker
flees in terror.  He ignores the open doorway, and leaps out a window in
a huge explosion of glass.

The midget turns and looks at a bronze-skinned giant with long black hair
standing next to him.  He climbs onto a stool, bringing his eyes to the level
of the man' navel.  He stares up at the living cliche, places his hands on 
his hips and cocks his head.

     "So you're the new tough guy in town, eh?  You look like a sissy to me."

The midget's Genericise is bovinely coarse, but it is much better than his
Jazzercise.  His stare has a glimmer that is not murderous, but might be
closer to manslaughter.  Or aggravated assault, if you really want to quibble.
It is icy however.  Sort of like a slushy from the Quik-E Mart.


>--------------------------------------------------------------------------
>---------------------------
       ____
>     /       \
>   /           \
> /               \
>|    G A K !
>|       ______      
> \              |          THE  PHALLIC SYMBOL OF DEATH
>   \_______|


>   The first Nuerosurgeon

>     the last Malpractice Case.


--
The opinions expressed in this message are mine alone.  This message
does not necessarily reflect the positions or opinions of my company
or organization.

From alt.pub.dragons-inn Tue Oct  3 15:46:32 1995
Xref: netcom.com alt.pub.dragons-inn:8738
Path: netcom.com!ix.netcom.com!howland.reston.ans.net!vixen.cso.uiuc.edu!uwm.edu!caen!reeve.research.aa.wl.com!WS0080138F2117!simonj
From: simonj@rh.wl.com (Jeff Simon)
Newsgroups: alt.pub.dragons-inn
Subject: Re: [Inn] Chapter 1/1: The Dark Stranger- New Character- Garak
Date: Mon, 25 Sep 1995 03:40:06 EDT
Organization: Parke-Davis Rochester
Lines: 52
Message-ID: <simonj.255.00217BBB@rh.wl.com>
References: <44405b$mnp@newsbf02.news.aol.com>
NNTP-Posting-Host: 198.205.215.173
X-Newsreader: Trumpet for Windows [Version 1.0 Rev B final beta #4]


A tutti-frutti skinned midget of a man slams the oaken front door of the Inn
unsoundly shut, breaking it in half while simultaneously wrenching it from
its hinges.  Corn-ridden feet in desperate need of a pedicure clump mincingly
across the floorboards, which somehow creak under his insignificant bulk.  A
mauvey, pinky-russet sort of mane cascades down the back of his neck like
a waterfall of Strawberrysaurus Rex Kool-aid, and his steely purple gaze 
ricochettes off your adamantite souls.  He stands unerect, stupidity carved
into his stiff features.  He approaches the bar with a quick, waltzing mince 
that is somehow menacing in its silliness.

Now situated at a right angle slightly to the side of the small serving board
in the tavern main, his worldly leer caused the hair upon the onlooker's nape
to stand on end, rip itself off, and flee in terror.  Now the onlooker is 
completely bald.  Fearing that he will catch a nasty head-cold, the onlooker
flees in terror.  He ignores the open doorway, and leaps out a window in
a huge explosion of glass.

The midget turns and looks at a bronze-skinned giant with long black hair
standing next to him.  He climbs onto a stool, bringing his eyes to the level
of the man' navel.  He stares up at the living cliche, places his hands on 
his hips and cocks his head.

     "So you're the new tough guy in town, eh?  You look like a sissy to me."

The midget's Genericise is bovinely coarse, but it is much better than his
Jazzercise.  His stare has a glimmer that is not murderous, but might be
closer to manslaughter.  Or aggravated assault, if you really want to quibble.
It is icy however.  Sort of like a slushy from the Quik-E Mart.


>--------------------------------------------------------------------------
>---------------------------
       ____
>     /       \
>   /           \
> /               \
>|    G A K !
>|       ______      
> \              |          THE  PHALLIC SYMBOL OF DEATH
>   \_______|


>   The first Nuerosurgeon

>     the last Malpractice Case.


--
The opinions expressed in this message are mine alone.  This message
does not necessarily reflect the positions or opinions of my company
or organization.

