"Criminals are sick and deserve our sympathy... As long as
they're attacking someone else."
Woody Allen, Inside Woody Allen
by Gard Eggesbø Abrahamsen
"Happy new year, Gard," a known voice said. Of course. One of
my neighbours had spotted me as I was almost crawling through
the huge mass of insane people that were constantly shooting each
other with miniature missiles and putting bombs in the trash
cans. If this had been in Great Britain, they would definitely
been misidentified as the IRA doing another terrorist attack at
innocent people. This, however, was Norwegian new year's eve.
"Happy new year," I answered, being slightly ironic. Not that
I prefered an unhappy new year, but my doubts were creeping
up my back, whispering pessimistic thoughts into my ear. My
chain of thoughts was interrupted by a huge explosion in
front of me. Pain in my ears. Pain in my eyes. A cloud of gun
smoke had arisen from the ground and in it, I could see the faint
image of an extremely cuddly female with the name Julie. I shook
my head, tried to think of something else, only to recognize the
chaos that was surrounding me.
The voice behind me seemed to be a familiar one.
"Gukkulukk," it said. I turned quickly around and spotted a
little bomb on the ground just a few inches away from me. I
threw myself to the ground just as the bomb exploded. The
world was turning around, my feet hurt, my head hurt, I
hurt, and I could still see the image of the female in front of
It seemed so real, I stretched my arm out to grab it, but all I
grabbed was the thick polluted air that was trying to poison me
with gun smoke. It was then the feeling of a divine power
lifted me into the air at a terrible speed. A missile just
missed me before I arrived at one of the few clouds that were
covering the sky this clear new year's eve.
There was a big flash and the sweet sound of an electric guitar
as my surroundings changed, and I found myself in the great hall
of justice, where my true Master was awaiting.
"Gard," my Master told me. "I'm sorry I have to talk to myself
in this way, but you haven't lived properly the last 6800 days,
or so. I know I'm gonna regret this, but I have to go to hell."
"But...I'm working on it, can't I see? I'm really trying.
Please, can't I give myself another chance?" I screamed.
My Master put a chewing gum in his mouth and started
chewing. Then he stopped chewing and started thinking. A
minute or two later, he gave up. "I'm absolutely right," he
said. "I'll give myself another chance. Here we go," He
lifted his arms, cast a spell and an electrical charge flashed
through the sky in very much the same way as lightning does. "I'm
right," he shouted, but his shout faded away as the distance
grew between us, and it was completely gone when I finally
arrived in my bed.
The electrical charge hit the dish antenna just beneath my
window, and the blue light was illuminating my room as I felt
an electric current stream though my body. Was this what they
called a recharge? I got up on my feet and looked through the
square glass-covered hole in the wall, wondering why it was
called a window.
It was blowing outside. Trees bent over, street lamps bent
over, cars were jumping up and down, making me wonder if
aerodynamic technology really had gone far enough or if it
wasn't worth doing more research on it for another ten years.
A roof passed by the window, now and then, and with them an
image of a female that I felt meant so extremely much to me. She
was truly an angel.
I closed my eyes, and the image was still there. "Come to me,"
the image whispered. Oh yes, I would. I would, if I could. I
got down on my knees, stretched out my arms to let the divine
image fill my body with hope and longing.
"I'm coming, my divine beauty, daughter of the light, sister
of my life, I'm coming!" I whispered. "I'm coming if you'll
let me." And I opened my eyes, discovering that the image had
disappeared. A dumb sound sounded from above, and I got the
impression that the roof was leaving me for good, but no such
luck. Still intact, the house defied the beating wind, as if
the divine power from the electrical charge had something to do
I got into the car, hoping to be blown away by the wind any
second. But to my despair, the car was stuck to the ground
like a rock. "C'mon, blow me away," I screamed. "As long as the
divine female is with someone else, there is no reason for me to
live my life!"
The wind quit blowing. Damn!
I got out of the car. "KILL ME, DAMIT!" I heard my echo repeat
my wish far far away, and I realised that I was talking to a
mountain that wouldn't move. No glove, no love, I thought,
wandering off into the house whilst listening to the sounds of
an oil tanker hitting a rock. Listnening to the sound of the
tanker cracking a bit open, and the oil pouring out into the
The birds went furious, and the bird rock of Runde
considered taking a step back to avoid getting dirty by the
black thick liquid the humans liked to call oil.
Death and devastation went through my mind. I needed more
violence. I needed more pizzas. I needed more blood. And I
couldn't bare the sight of the Renault 18 no more.
The text of the articles is identical to the originals like they appeared in old ST NEWS issues. Please take into consideration that the author(s) was (were) a lot younger and less responsible back then. So bad jokes, bad English, youthful arrogance, insults, bravura, over-crediting and tastelessness should be taken with at least a grain of salt. Any contact and/or payment information, as well as deadlines/release dates of any kind should be regarded as outdated. Due to the fact that these pages are not actually contained in an Atari executable here, references to scroll texts, featured demo screens and hidden articles may also be irrelevant.