 FLORIDA FED MEET
It was a dark and stormy night.
Well, it was a dark and stormy afternoon, anyway. But the
sun finally came out and was shining on the sand and palm
trees just in time for Blaze to meet Our Illustrious
Leader and IB's Tea Girl and drive them down to
Lauderdale by the Sea for the Florida Fed Meet on
Saturday, Sept 19th.
This was a very impromptu and
casual Fed Meet, of the "hey, you're gonna be in
Florida, wanna get together with some local Fedders and
have some pink and frothy drinks?" variety. We
arrived at Aruba, a beachside restaurant and were soon
gathered round a small table overlooking the ocean. We
were joined by Obeahcay and Buddykarl and their wives...
amazing (suspicious) how they managed to pick us out in a
crowded restaurant. Ming's fascist bully-boy death-squads
(actually a slight blonde waitress) moved us over to a
larger table in the center of the dining room so we would
have to shout to be heard over the crowds and thus reveal
all our secret plans and baffle nearby tables with our
talk of time machines, teleporters and invading Martians.
We proceeded to stuff ourselves with local specialties
like seafood quesadillas and pina coladas (no pink and
frothy drinks yet). Bella was interrogated about game
development by Buddykarl and Obeacay while the women got
down to the serious task of gossiping about all those who
hadn't attended our little meet. A vow of silence was
decreed about the zipper incident and the car lifting
event.
Tiring of the noise and the hour
being considerably late, Bella suggested we move on and
seek out pink and frothy drinks at the hotel bar. We
shuffled about outside taking a few traditionally hideous
Fed Meet photos which are unavailable while the German
tabloids bid for publication rights. Buddykarl and his
wife had to leave to reclaim their offspring at the
parental abode; but the rest of us drove back up to
Deerfield Beach and the quiet, deserted hotel bar. There
Blaze discovered the pink and slushy tropical drink
variation. Sipping these lethal strength confections made
with 151 rum, we sat for several more hours chatting. The
moonlight beach and palm trees made the perfect backdrop
for a relaxed session discussing the development of Age
of Adventure, future plans for Barbarossa and amusing
incidents of real life including Obeacay's wife's amazing
trip to New York. Near midnight, the bartender sidled
over to our table and tipped us off that Ming's fascist
bully boy death squads had been seen in the vicinity
clever disguised as Deerfield Beach traffic police and
were ticketing cars and spaceships parked by the beach.
With regret, we bid each other fond farewells and
adjourned the 1998 Florida Fed Meet.
FEDERATION
SPIES SUSPECTED
Well respected drun... err member
of the Federation community, Deathiscome, reported today
that there is a conspiracy to keep him out of the news.
Specifically in regards to Events. Death claims that
whenever he wins an event in Fed there is no write-up in
the news.
Flunky in charge of events and
Jello in Fed, Galinfenner, was questioned regarding
Death's claims. Galinfenner stated unequivocally, after
chugging his ale and burping, that in no way would he
hinder any attempt to insubordinate, UN-subvert,
contra-amend, DIS-inform or otherwise not misplace
anyone's claim to a write up. Galin seemed deep in
thought for a moment then exclaimed, 'Isn't Death that
guy I used to "pants" all the time until he
started going around naked?'
Reporters are currently looking for
the MC of the events in question. At the time of this
writing she had apparently vanished from the DataSpace.
COMM
SURFING
by Danny
Note: There are no names
because a) people want to be anonymous when being made
fun of and b) some of these conversations are made up.
Hmm...I'm bored and nobody's here,
I wonder what people are talking about on the comms.
>tune 9
Your comm unit relays a message, "So I was in the
workbench when I figure, heh, why doesn't someone just
make a program to build a planet outside the
workbench?"
Your comm unit relays a message, "It's been
done."
Your comm unit relays a message, "No! Stop trying to
steal my idea! No! Stop it!"
Your comm unit relays a message, "Oh just shut
up."
>tune 1
Your comm unit relays a message, "i'm new what do i
do"
Your comm unit relays a message, "Hi, I'm a
Dataspace Navigator. To understand Federation you really
should read the manuals."
Your comm unit relays a message, "manuals?"
Your comm unit relays a message, "Yes."
Your comm unit relays a message, "federation?"
Your comm unit relays a message, "Yes."
Your comm unit relays a message, "i'm new what do i
do"
Your comm unit relays a message, "Read the
manuals."
Your comm unit relays a message, "manuals?"
>tune 10
Your comm unit relays a message, "Now let's start
playing Guess My Scrambled Secret-pardy!"
>tune 4
Your comm unit relays a message, "I need a PC
please. Someone. Is anyone else here?"
Your comm unit relays a message, "Anyone?"
Your comm unit relays a message, "Please?"
>tune 9
Your comm unit relays a message, "I'm telling you,
man, it's been done."
Your comm unit relays a message, "Stop it! Liar! I'm
gonna make a million groats off this idea!"
Your comm unit relays a message, "I'll give you a
million groats if you leave."
Your comm unit relays a message, "Stop it! You don't
have a whole million groats! Liar!"
>tune 2
Your comm unit relays a message, "And this guy said
he owned a planet!"
Your comm unit relays a message, "Wow!"
Your comm unit relays a message, "And he said that
you can get a million dollars!"
Your comm unit relays a message, "Wow!"
Your comm unit relays a message, "And he said if you
fly into the sun you don't have to haul anymore!"
Your comm unit relays a message, "Wow!
>tune 14
Your comm unit relays a message, "Join our guild!
Honor the great one with macros and triggers!"
Your comm unit relays a message, "Uh...aren't macros
evil?"
Your comm unit relays a message, "The great one
knows all! Join our guild!"
Your comm unit relays a message, "Gretsky?"
Your comm unit relays a message, "The great one
doesn't appreciate mockery."
Your comm unit relays a message, "Wacko."
>tune 4
Your comm unit relays a message, "I need a
PC...hello...anybody...is anyone
out there...hello..."
>tune 7
Your comm unit relays a message, "And the lord
cometh and he sayeth that you shall sendeth me your
groats so I may honoreth him by buying a planet where I
shall buildeth an exchange so people shall tradeth and
maketh me richer!"
Your comm unit relays a message, "Wacko."
>tune 2
Your comm unit relays a message, "And he says that
when a bell rings an angel gets its wings!"
Your comm unit relays a message, "Wow!"
Your comm unit relays a message, "And he says that
the sum of the squares of the two legs of a right
triangle equals the square of the hypotenuse!"
Your comm unit relays a message, "Wow!"
>tune off
Such stimulating conversation. Now
I see why work is getting so popular...
>quit
WAYS TO
AVOID A DD
by Admiralrose
(Note -These do not apply in
every situation, but every DD world is bound to have one
or more of the below.)
1. Agricultural worlds with wages
at 50 IG and 2,000 population are usually the DD worlds,
since the PO just wants to kill people and has no concern
about promoting.
2. Watch out for non-modified
worlds. They may make the Link and Landing Pad safe, just
to throw you off guard, so you end up DDing in the
hospital or the exchange.
3. Any planet where the Orbit is
not the same as the Link should be approached with extreme
caution. They may have a mirror location right off of the
Link with an invincible space mobile waiting, or there
may be a death out event from the Interstellar Link.
4. Be careful when exploring a
planet where you haven't ever heard of the PO, or you've
heard bad things about them. (This goes back to that
"Don't take candy from strangers" thing.)
5. Check Scaramouche's DD planet
announcements every week and keep your list updated.
I'm not saying that every PO you
haven't heard of is evil and wants to DD you, but
regretfully, some are.
I hope this helps you avoid ending
up a GroundHog.
Admiralrose,
Industrialist of Headquarters
SOL
CLOSED DUE TO NEW DD REGULATIONS!
by Tickenest
The Solar System was closed today
due to the new anti-DD planet rules imposed by Hazed not
long ago. Intended to prevent players from going
dead-dead on planets built with that purpose in mind, the
new rule has now forced the closing of Sol.
Long regarded as a death trap for
newbies who are tricked into playing in the Martian Ruins
with the TDX or deceived about the 100 megagroats hidden
in the transuranics room on Titan, Sol is clearly the
most dangerous place for a newbie to be in Federation.
'Rules are rules,' said the Demi-Goddess Hazed at a press
conference to announce the closing of Sol. 'It's tragic
that with Sol closed newbods won't be able to reach the
Meeting Point to enter Federation DataSpace, but what can
one do?' The Demi-Goddess then vanished in a shimmer of
teleportation effect before any more questions could be
put to her. Devoted Hazed worshippers then continued
their mad trek to follow the Demi-Goddess to the ends of
the Galaxy, worshipping the ground she walks on.
Furthermore, the new DD policy
means that Ming, the overlord of Sol, must invariably be
locked out of Fed until Sol is brought up to code. The
cost involved in such an undertaking is estimated at 43.6
trillion groats, a cost that will invariably be paid by
the ultimate loser, the taxpayer.
A spokesperson for Ming had the
following to say:
We wish it to be known that
Emperor Ming's lock out of Fed has caused him no
distress due to the fact that he doesn't care about
the goings-on of you mere non-Imperial types. As a
result of this action, we will be increasing taxes
413% to pay for the editing of Sol and will have 1711
peons flogged just for fun.
'We're, like, screwed here, dude.
What a bummer,' said one onlooker of the proceedings.
'But like, it's like, true, dude. Sol is like, one
friggin' dangerous place to chill. I like, never go to
Sol without checkin' my like, insurance first.'
One shady figure in an alley
wearing sunglasses and a trenchcoat said, 'I'm not
worried about higher taxes from all of this, since I'm
not even on Ming's tax rolls. And it's gonna stay that
way, capiche?' Needless to say, this reporter felt it
best not to pursue his questioning any further.
Only time will tell what the
ramifications will be of these developments. All Fedizens
are advised not to attempt to enter Sol until further
notice without heavy bribes for the Fed Staff. (This
article was contributed to by a rubber chicken and a 1973
Cadillac.)
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