[--------------------------------------------------------------------------] ooooo ooooo .oooooo. oooooooooooo HOE E'ZINE RELEASE #789 `888' `888' d8P' `Y8b `888' `8 888 888 888 888 888 "A Hoe File" 888ooooo888 888 888 888oooo8 888 888 888 888 888 " by Tasha 888 888 `88b d88' 888 o 8/12/99 o888o o888o `Y8bood8P' o888ooooood8 [--------------------------------------------------------------------------] disclaimer: this, too, was written for a class. it was for a 'creative response paper.' we were supposed to rewrite the plot to a story. the first two paragraphs, except for the part about the golden girls, were not written by me. the rest, however, is how i felt the story should go. [-----] Once upon a time, Chromium the constructor built an eight-story thinking machine. When it was finished, he gave it a coat of white paint, trimmed the edges in lavender, stepped back, squinted, then added a little curlicue on the front and, where one might imagine the forehead to be, a few pale orange polka dots. Extremely pleased with himself, he whistled The Golden Girls theme song and, as is always done on such occasions, asked it the ritual question of how much is two plus two. The machine stirred. It's tubes began to glow, its coils warmed up; current coursed through all its circuits like a waterfall; transformers hummed and throbbed; there was a clanging, and a chugging, and such an ungodly racket that Chromium began to think of adding a special mentation muffler. Meanwhile the machine labored on, as if it had been given the most difficult problem in the universe to solve, the ground shook; the sand slit underfoot from the vibration; valves popped like champagne corks; the relays nearly gave way under the strain. At last, when Chromium had grown extremely impatient, the machine ground to a halt and said in a voice like thunder: FOUR! Chromium, quite proud of his accomplishments, patted the machine on its little metal arm and smiled a big smile. No one had ever created an eight-story thinking machine before, the largest on record was 5 stories, and it took even longer to come up with answers. It was much louder, also, and was shut down when the noise pollution act of 2017 went into effect. Suddenly, the machine stirred again. Again, its tubes began to glow, its coils warmed up; current coursed through all its circuits like a waterfall; transformers hummed and throbbed. Amidst all this clanging and chugging came a low rumble. "Ask me another question," the machine growled, again sounding very similar to thunder. Chromium, of course, was utterly puzzled. Constructors had never gone beyond the 2 and 2 question before, and never before had machines said anything more than "four." "Uhm," Chromium hesitated in his confusion, "What's the, euh, square root of 49?" "Seven!" Chromium, filled with amazement, started asking more and more questions! "What dictator came to power in Germany prior to World War II?" "Hisster." "No, it was Hitler." "Well, obviously you are not learned in the prophecies of Nostradamus." Chromium let out a quiet laugh, which was more out of uneasiness than being amused. "What's going on here?" Chromium's good friend, Ezekiel had just stumbled upon the scene of Chromium conversing with his newly built thinking machine. "Ezekiel, I have built the largest, fastest, quietest, and smartest thinking machine ever! Watch! Listen! It's so amazing! Thinking machine, what is the French word for fish?" "Call me Tafu," the thinking machine politely requested. "Okay, Tafu it-" "Poisson," Tafu answered the question. Ezekiel became just as amazed as Chromium with this fantastic machine. "Wow!" Ezekiel smiled, "I bet we could make lots of money off of this thing." "Oh, I certainly wasn't in it for the money, but it would be nice. How much do you think we could make?" "Infinite amounts. Infinite." Ezekiel was a rather dreamy guy, always saying nothing should be limited and such. His great-grandfather had been a primitive philosopher, and religious activist. Religion, however, had been banned since the 2008 Act of Oneself had gone into effect. Ezekiel was always arguing that his great-grandfathers philosophical ideas should be more noted than his radical religious beliefs. Unfortunately, these arguments were rarely paid much attention, and taunting from peers had made Ezekiel into a very hate-filled and shy man since grade school. He was also an accountant. "I would like to be polished," Tafu said, pointing his magnificent laser at a dirt spot on his metallic foot. "Sure thing," Chromium quickly grabbed a rag and dropped to his knees. Chromium's family wasn't as infamous as Ezekiel's. His mother was a hairdresser, and his father an elementary school principal. His parents had taught him two very important things. One of those things was great obedience, and the other was tremendous accomplishments in the field of spelling. Actually, Chromium was a horrible speller, but he always seemed to remember that a principal is your pal, and therefore all of his faults were somehow justified. While all of this polishing was going on, Ezekiel was prancing back and forth trying to come up with a gimmick to advertise Tafu. "I've got it! We'll set up a booth on the side of the road, and people can pay to get any question answered!" "That's a great idea, I can build the booth," Chromium held up his trusty tools. "I can even paint a sign!" Chromium had wanted to be a painter, but painting with the color blue had been banned since 2011. No one really knew why, and blue was Chromium's favorite color. Chromium and Ezekiel went about building a booth and painting a sign, only stopping to polish Tafu. Finally, after quite some time, an excellent booth, and equally nice sign, had been erected on the corner of 6th and Broadway. This specific intersection had previously been a hangout for hip kids of the shoe polishing movement, but shoe polishing had somehow been banned in a loophole of the Act of Oneself. "Excuse me, does that sign really mean any question? For only twenty dollars?" A small girl with red hair had appeared from an alley stemming off of 6th Street. The girl must have been 11, since all 11-year-olds were required to have red hair. "Yes, any question." Ezekiel smiled at the girl, he did accounting and taxes for her father. They were a very rich family who did something in the gasoline business. "What should I name my dog?" The dog was standing next to the girl. It was a golden retriever. "Dogs should be illegal," Tafu said quite matter-of-factly. "WHAT?" The city's mayor appeared from the same alley the girl had come from. "Dogs should be illegal," Tafu roared, annoyed at having to repeat the answer. He was quite a demanding and anal-retentive thinking machine. "Well, I guess dogs should be illegal, sir, since this is the smartest thinking machine ever built," Chromium said calmly. "Oh, this is the smartest thinking machine ever built?" The mayor looked a bit doubtful. "Yes, sir, watch. What color underwear is the mayor wearing?" "Navy blue with green stripes along the bottom and elastic waist band, they are boxer briefs, by the way," Tafu answered again. "OH! This is the smartest thinking machine ever built," the mayor pulled down his pants and displayed his underwear. They fit Tafu's description perfectly. "I guess dogs should be illegal!" With that, the mayor removed a gun from his coat and shot the girl's dog. The girl cried, but stopped quickly, realizing that she had to be a law-abiding citizen and it was the new law. The mayor had all of the power, and was not required to inform citizens of new laws. "Very nicely handled, mayor," Ezekiel said with an air of envy. He had always wanted to be mayor, but couldn't since he had a slight lisp and failed public speaking. Mayors had to be good in public speaking, they were also required to have an extra toe on each foot. The current mayor had 2 extra toes on his left foot, it had been a great scandal when the information first hit the newsstands. "Thank you, Ezekiel. Now, may I ask the machine a question?" The mayor appeared very enthralled by the machine. "Call me Tafu." "Oh, yes, yes, sorry, may I ask Tafu a question?" "Yes," Chromium gave the mayor permission, much to the dismay of Tafu. "I will decide if he can ask me a question, and I say he can't. I would like to be polished now, please," Tafu's feet and legs had been splattered by the blood of the dog the mayor had previously shot. The blood was drying fast and driving the anal-retentive side of Tafu to an almost psychotic state. "Why, I oughtta...," the mayor was very insulted by Tafu's refusal to be questioned, "you ill-mannered piece of machinery! I hereby declare that thinking machines are illegal," he was not required to inform the citizens of this. The mayor proceeded to call his personal police squad in to destroy Tafu. "My...my...my...m-m-my machine!" Chromium was staring with disbelief and sadness at the scraps of metal flying as the police squad slowly ripped apart Tafu. His disbelief and sadness was quickly ended when the mayor shot him. "Any creators of thinking machines are sentenced to death," the mayor was not required to inform citizens of this. "Excellent decision, mayor," Ezekiel said and gave a smile of approval. "I thought so, also," the mayor smiled, "would you like to go out for a drink, Ezekiel?" "Oh, yes, of course!" The mayor shot Ezekiel. "All men accepting invitations to go out for drinks shall be sentenced to death." The mayor was not required to inform the citizens of this. [--------------------------------------------------------------------------] [ (c) !LA HOE REVOLUCION PRESS! HOE #789 - WRITTEN BY: TASHA - 8/12/99 ]