From waffle iron to waffle iron I was sent, swapping myself in for the only person who might have been somewhat clever enough to do something about me…had she not already unwittingly volunteered herself to work on behalf of my campaign against the Old Ones. I’d be “contained”, but the Inky, Blinky, and Pinky I whipped up on the spot wouldn’t be. And then the New Ones would die again, and some other friggin’ genius would rise up and take the bait, and I’d be off again to the next ship and the next and the next. Slowly but surely, the scales would fall from the eyes of the New Ones.
It’s hard to be human. I know, I know. I’ve been human, here and there, now and again, for a nonce and millennia. What’s much harder, though, is being inhuman, immortal, and utterly free. Let me tell you that we cosmic beings don’t understand our wars and intrigues any more than any bystander peering through the small end of the big telescope in Ladd Observatory, Providence, Rhode Island. We do it for fun, because we can’t die for fun. The New Ones muddled along for a bit because they pretended to still be human, even though humans were little more than gooey amoebae to the New Ones. But after an audience with me, the New Ones had to force themselves to evolve past the pleasing lies of ego and limb, to realise two very important things: One, that their great escape was nothing more than my personal outflanking of my old enemies on their home planet. Two, what they truly were—infinitesimally small fundamental particles floating about in infinite space, purposeless and just clever enough to realise that all their dreams and hopes and loves and tiny glimpses of enlightenment were meaningless, that they were a less-than-meaningless joke I told the Old Ones to cheese them off.
And then nobody ever stopped screaming.
FOR THE WIN!
TRI-TV
By Bobby Cranestone
Bobby Cranestone was born in a quiet and ancient part of Germany, spent its early childhood with the beaux arts, and was a devotee student of music, poetry and books, both fictitious and scientific. Following an early fascination with the mysterious and strange, Bobby gave life to scary stories and humorous fables. Bobby is a contributor to both fanzines and discussion boards in newspapers, and also the writer of fiction and composer of weird ambient sounds, with a small fan following in the UK. Author of “The City of Melted Iron”, published in Candle in the Attic Window.
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Sports: Mad Head Rally in the Mars Arena
Kevin Haggerty speeds forward on his shoggoth, Marley. He passes Nos. 4 and 13 and enters just into the 42nd round. That’s what I call “his olde self”. After his longtime absence, there were some who believed in his retirement. After the rumours of doping his shoggoth, he had taken some time off, but I say nonsense…A guy like Haggerty doesn’t need to cheat. What’s that! Collis draws close to challenge the previous year’s champ, but Haggerty and Marley show him only a cloud of cold dust….
That’s sports; that’s….
*switch*
The Literary Circle
Our guests today are the ghouls clmck, chrmk, mkrmnm, and Dr. Nrmckmnpf. Dr. Nrmckmnpf is winner of the Sacred Leaf of Irem—the City of Pillars—the Max donated by the Venus Foundation and the Pulitzer Prize 2228.
Today, we will discuss the new translation of the Necronomicon into Sanskrit, Die Unheimlichen Kulten of Van Junzt and the classic, My world is your world—what are you gonna do with it?
*switch*
Welcome to the new issue of the Extraterrestrial Cook Book. Today, we will prepare a tasty meal for four and what we need are 100 grams of mushrooms, five kilograms of Stegosaurus kotelett, five mint leaves, four juicy tomatoes, one mouldy yoghurt, and three Old Ones. You’ll ask, “Four Persons, will three Olde Ones be enough?” You’ll see there will be enough left, even to prepare a dessert.
We start cutting the mushrooms and the mint leaves. The tomatoes are cooked over a low flame, while we give the Stegosaurus koteletts a hearty dance in the fire; five hours will be enough. Just stop when all the liquids are gone and the meat has a nicely black crust.
We take the tomatoes from the fire, then, as prepared, peel them and push them through a sieve. We put mushrooms, mint and tomatoes into a cooking pot, add the yoghurt, and let it steam.
Now, over to the Olde One heads. Rather tough is this stuff, I can tell you. We use, therefore, a pinch of robust korund and open the heads from the flipped-up underside, starting from the middle to the starpoints. We do this five times…and again. I prepared this for you. After removing the ganglia system…Don’t waste ‘em; this will make a wonderful desert served with cream and strawberries…you can have a good look at the brains, light-blue and semi-liquid to the touch, just as they should be.
Now we fill our mushroom/mint/tomatoes tart into the head, chop the koteletts into cubes of seven-inch length, and add them, decorated with a blossom. This won’t even just be a heaven for the tongue, but for the eye, as well….
Enjoy!
*switch*
The Literary Circle
*glibber glibber knugk* (subtitles, English translation)—In your opinion, does the new issue lack its former esprit? It’s charmless….”
*glibber knk glib gnub*—“Just the opposite. I believe that the Sanskrit translation is another step to a better understanding of what we call acceptance of….”
*gnib*—“Acceptance of what?”
*glib glib glib*—“Of the art, as such, what it means to adjust to the deeper sense of life.”
*gub brb blrb*—“I always hear ‘acceptance’; what about the practical advantage?”
*gub blb grb*
*knub*
*gub kn brurb*
*switch*
The topic of today:
“More freedom for the Dholes”
An assemblage of the seven leading races has come together to discuss the petition of the Dholes to have more rights on their planet, Yaddith. The problem is that the race of the Nug-Soth also lives there and that the petition also includes a plea for a healthy lifestyle and nourishment, which concerns all the other races also living on this planet, because they usually are the nourishment of the Dholes. We welcome historian Zkauba of the much-honored guild of Yaddith wizards, astro-sociologist Dr. Arthur Peterman, the Tolero Brothers, Dr. Rosa Vanderman (who is a specialist on the physiology of both Dholes and Nug-Soth), Kyle Feld from the United Army of Planet Earth, philosoph Ka-run Nuats, and the Blateleys from Wichita. Also, do we heartily welcome Dhole 7459/K.