"I can't understand what's holding up the missile program. It's
the first time the government ever had trouble making the
taxpayer's money go up in smoke."
'Byte your BIT's'
Have you got a query about such topics as life that you would
Do you wonder about the people behind this magazine?
Have you got any hints, tips or cheats for any of the various
games out there (not just computer games either - can you cheat
at poker? Can you teach others? etc. How about board games?).
Perhaps you just have a short article that you feel would be
better incorporated in a prestigious magazine like ours rather
than have it appear as a stand-alone piece.
Maybe you wish to complain about the vulgar obscenities
contained within this magazine.
If any of the above apply to you or, in fact, if you have
anything at all you would care to discuss with the caring and
world-orientated staff of Pervert's Monthly then feel free to
drop in a letter at the address below.
(The actual editorial staff of ST NEWS would like to proclaim
here that, actually, one should be writing to us and not those
damn Scotsmen. But begone, foul betrayer, and write to them if
you really (REALLY) want to, ED.)
Pervert's Monthly magazine,
25 Kiltrochan Drive,
But before you all start scribbling away a message from our
Greetings once again my children and welcome to this month's
religious corner. This month from the holy scriptures of the
Elvis I have brought you chapter 2 of the book of Peter.
Although it may seem a hard and arduous task to read this, keep
at it and you shall be rewarded in heaven. Resist the temptation
to go and do something else, especially play that evil Gregorist
game "Street Fighter 2". You may find it difficult to follow the
ancient language but please bear in mind that the prophet Peter
had only a slab of stone and an Amiga to scratch it with.
And Lo! It was verily after that which is the longest of treks,
that of the legendary Hills-Burruh, that of the "Thou Willst Nay,
Never Walketh Again", that the peoples of the Lord God Ringpull
hath cometh at last unto the Temple "Off License", and their
leader, verily, because they that which were led were as thick as
that which is in the double and is short and madeth oftenchance
of wood, who was of the body Bloody and Knackered hath been
called and will forever more be called until his spirit hath
passed onto that of the great Distillery in the heavens, the Holy
Vat, "Gills-ard" and "Daffyd", and with happen-chanced no little
feat of leaks hadeth led the peoples of the Everlasting Licorice
Confit to the Boo-Zer, to partake in the Holy Communion, that of
the ceremony of "Pis-Sup", to those that which are aquainted with
the ceremony of "Pis-Sup" and that of the "Comma-Toes".
But those that had not doneth of the ritual of the "Ero-Bics",
those that can be noted and art spaketh thus in conversation as
the sect of the Fat-Bastard, that of the Shez, hath been winded
and hath layeth of the earth in heaps and hath moaned and wailed
and gnashed often. Seing that his peoples were in need of some
guiding as to the spirits, Daffyd, the slightly less than divine
leader of the peoples of the Lord God Ringpull hath lifted his
extremities in that which is of the gesture of the Hail of the
Tax-E's hath shouteth "Ringpull, God of Gods and divine Guider
and maker of that which was the KeyRings of Halley-Fax, give us a
vision, show us the way!"
And oneth this, the Lord Ringpull, who had been dropping of the
Eves and Addams, who hath been listening of the Omniscient Kee-
Whole hath popeth up unto his peoples, and hath spaketh "From my
position that is known unto those such as you as Hi!, that of
the slight intoxication, I can se-eth the Pub from here!"
But one, such that had only partaketh of that which is Ribena,
one who had not four-exxed of that which was the Main Castle hath
said "Verily, but forsooth unto ourselves, we knoweth not what a
Upon these very words, the Lord Ringpull hath pronounced
judgement. "J-U-D-G-E-M-E-N-T", and upon this the one which had
not layeth on that which is the floor and hath wondered as to the
spinnings of the room hath said, "Fine, but what can be known
unto us as a pub?", and the Divine Spirit hath answered, "That
which is the Pub caneth be known unto those such as yourselves as
that which is the house that is open unto the public, that which
is the 'Pig' and 'Boar'".
At this, the peoples hath been verily bemused and hath thought
upon this with great mind-churnings and rubbing of chins, and one
which was known unto the peoples as that which Is a Wall hath
spake "Eh?" and unto the peoples, the Holy God Ringpull hath said
unto them "Here, have a sign!"
And verily upon the spot which the God Ringpull hath occupied
was a sign, and anointed upon this were "Pig" and "Boar" and "200
yrds. 1st Left", and the crowd went absolutely bonkers "A sign, a
sign! Verily, we haveth a sign!" And upon the Booz-Er the peoples
hath decended like a plague of Low-Costs.
And Lo! The peoples were pissed.
One such as was the Wall and the Iz hath cried unto the peoples
"Hey, thereth be a Zoo!" and the peoples hath jumped up and
downeth upon the spot in a frenzy of ecstasy, and hath cried unto
themselves such comments as "Leave the horses to me!" and "Do
that which be snakes have holes?" But one such as that which was
IzWall hath said "Nay, nay shalt I partake in the learning of
that which is Car-Nal from such beasts as these, I shalt shaggeth
unto myself that which is Radley." And upon this, the Lord
Ringpull hath appeared unto the peoples and hath cried "Nay, nay
NAY!" and the peoples hath cried "But unto you, that which is
known unto ourselves as Dunky hath got the Horses!"
At this, the Lord Ringpull lifted his arms for silence. "Nay,
none such as yourselves shalt partake of that which is unhuman,
none such as Dunky shalt shaggeth of the Horses, I command you!"
and at this, the peoples hath uttered unto themselves "You are no
fun at all!" and hath departed back to their land with hiccups
But unto the Lord Ringpull, IzWall hath stayed, and spaketh, "O!
Great and Most Bounty Flavoured Ringpull! Whereth unto me can I
spy that which is Radley?" and unto IzWall the Lord Ringpull hath
spaketh "O! This is verily a great quest that shalt lasteth 39
days and twice as many nights, a quest even greater than the
great mountains of Whey-Als, and is detailed in that which is the
Book of the Squiggle, that of the 'Cor! Anne', and that which is
myself shalt look over you and under you and slightly over your
left shoulder to protect you on your quest for the everlasting
light, that which shalt abolish Gregorism and that which is
Hendry and Webster shalt be condemed to the eternal embarrasment
of that which is owning a PC."
At this, the Lord Ringpull hath calleth unto his departing
peoples "Come! Journey unto that which is the Nocked-Off-Stuf,
that of the Bar-Has, and helpeth IzWall to findeth that which is
the salvation of such as you, that which is the Des O'Connor
records. Here! Have unto yourselves that which is the Robes of
Hally-Fax, that of the 'Small More Club X'", and the peoples hath
rejoiced in the name of Ringpull and hath got pissed and Hangeth
Over that which was the next day, the start of the Quest to Spy
Radley unto the world!
I do so hope you enjoyed that. I have just received a prayer
from a certain disciple of mine that is known as 'Number 5' and
he hath said 'Make it short, Ringpull, because this issue is
starting to get too long!'. Alas, my children, for I must leave
you, so until I return live in peace and harmony and resist the
temptation of the Gregorists. Amen.
Time for some light relief in the form of Number 5's latest sick
and perverted brain child (or is that love-child?)...
Now we introduce the most awaited part of this entire
It is (cue drum roll) Pervert wars - battle of the brains!
Yes! I have decided to attempt to form a type of friendly
competition that will be fought by you!
As you will have noticed in Competition time, those of you
entering the competition will, among other things, be given a
rank for Pervert wars not lower than lieutenant. The whole idea
here is to create a "ladder" of players who will be attempting to
reach the top of the ladder in order to achieve world renowned
status as the 2nd most perverted person in the history of
mankind! (Guess who's no.1!)
I myself will be the Commander In Chief and will be responsible
for deciding the outcome of any battles that are fought.
But what battles are you talking about you strange megalomaniac
A very good question indeed and likely to be something that will
change with time. For the moment however the battles will be as
A direct challenge from one player to another (normally of
higher rank). This will consist of the two competitors attempting
to find as many OO-ER's in a seemingly innocent passage that I
will write. All oo-er's must be fully explained (unless they are
blatantly obvious) and a percentage will be given to each player
based on how many oo-er's they have found compared to myself.
Bonus "stars" will be gained for any player who finds an oo-er I
haven't and these will decide the outcome of a tie as well as
going on permanent record (more about this record in a minute).
To initiate a challenge a contestant need only write in to us
here and request which player he/she wishes to challenge and we
will publish a passage through which the battle will be fought.
Important: Only a player up to two ranks higher can be
challenged at any time. A complete up-to-date list of all players
and their ranks will be published in each edition of PM. See
below for how this ranking will be ordered. A higher ranked
player who challenges a lower ranked player can gain merit points
through a win. See "ranking" below for the reason to gain these
Secondly there is the default rule. This simply means that if a
challenge is not replied too then the player who has replied will
2. Multiple challenges
This involves teams of equal numbers of contestants competing
against each other in a way similar to that used in our
competition (i.e. a list of words). This is a good way for
beginners to gain experience (by teaming up with higher ranked
players). I will decide results once more and will combine the
efforts of all the teams by choosing the best answer from each
player. While no direct changes in rank will occur from such
games, merits will be given to players and this could lead to a
"promotion" (How the hell did I start using all this army type
Important note: Once more appeals for challenges will be
printed. However it is not necessary for players who have been
requested to join a team to accept. Only if two or more players
are present in each team will the game go ahead. Replies are only
required from players who are accepting a challenge. No reply
will be interpreted as a refusal.
OK so I know what the challenges are like, and I know that I
just have to send a brief note to PM to start a challenge, but
what about this ranking thing and what about these records?
The ranking is very simple and goes something like this (in
descending order) (NB. Where there is more than one person per
rank the exact order will be decided through merit points (so you
should answer every challenge whether it's aimed at you or not!))
Commander (The no. 2!)
General (2 places here. Definitely top perverts!)
Colonel (2 places going)
Lt. Colonel (up to 3 of these) ---------- an example of the
Major (3 places) | limit of a duel
Captain (4 places) --------- challenge.
1st. Lieutenant (another 4 places)
2nd. Lieutenant (5 places)
OK these are our officers and represent the big time!
These places will be filled from the entrants of our
Below this are unspecified numbers of:
The three ranked places above will be given through merit awards
which can be gained by answering duel competitions yourself
(without being involved in an actual duel). Only Sergeants can
challenge for lieutenantship!
Ok got all that? If not you can always write to the editor and
ask me to send you further details.
Finally the "records". Very simply we will keep a database of
all contestants including Rank and Merits. This will be published
in each edition of PM so you can check where you are and see who
So get enthusiastic! These places are all up for grabs and this
could be a really good thing to fill up those boring hours! (It's
certainly more challenging than pushing little plastic figures
around a board!).
It can only work if you start writing so don't let a brilliant
(?) idea die!
The first challenge should be published in the next issue...
(If, however, you want to get involved right away then enter our
It's the off-season and holidays are cheap so Ringpull has been
off to recharge his suntan in Majorca (Bastard - No.5) (Ha! Ha! -
Ringpull) (Shut up or I'll give you a free pair of non-removable
sunglasses!) (Your not getting any postcards now! (Especially not
ones with flocks of sheep on them)) (Look, I never wanted your
dirty postcards anyway! Oops, maybe I shouldn't have said that!
I'm out of here!)
Moving swiftly on...
It's been a few months between now when I'm writing this and
when I actually visited Majorca (October) but I shall try my best
to remember all the Spanish-type names (using my amazing multi-
Although it isn't on the South coast of Spain, we are now in
danger of entering the so-called 'Benidorm zone' of Horrible
hotels and English hooligans (OK, before you all complain, I
admit that it is not just the English). Majorca, as those of us
who got an 'A' in our Geography prelim will know, is an island in
the Mediterranean (Yes I used the spell-checker). The primary
language is Spanish and the weather is mostly sunny.
For a change this was a package holiday and I flew instead of
the usual "lets drive 2000 miles across Europe in two days" on
the same weekend as the entire population of Holland decide to
hitch up their caravans and drive to the south of France. After
driving to Edinburgh and parking the car in one of those
'security' car-parks which appears to be a small lot surrounded
by a fence with a small hut and a rather geriatric looking guard
dog, sitting around waiting for a minibus going to the airport I
eventually arrived at Edinburgh (International) airport. Wow, I
thought, this is quite an impressive name for a place that
amounts to three rooms and a newsagents.
After checking-in in the 'Que here' room, I went on to wait in
the 'Please wait here while your flight is delayed' room. Since
I was flying on a charter airline I had to wait for the
obligatory five-hour delay. Most of this was spent in the
newsagent wondering why so many people would want to buy
figurines of bagpipe players wearing kilts. Five uneventful
hours of eating Mars bars and reading a copy of PCW later we all
got to move on to the 'please wait here and sample our duty-free
At about mid-night we boarded the plane and were able to watch
the airport close for the night from the plane (There is a point,
when waiting for a delayed flight, when you realise that
everybody left in the airport is in fact on your flight and that
the last scheduled flight for the day did in fact leave hours
The flight was bad but fortunately I can't at this moment recall
the name of the airline so I won't be slagging them off.
Three hours on a coach at the other end and eventually I get to
my hotel, wake up the receptionist, get the key for my room (on
the top floor) and sleep until lunchtime.
On awaking I can see the town of Alcudia in all its sunbasked
glory with hills, hotels, a couple of lakes and the fantastically
clear water of the Med. After the 'welcome cocktail' with 'Alex
and Samantha, your smiling SunWorld reps' I went down to the
What a wonderful beach. Lots of sand, sun and the water is
warmer than the pool at the hotel. Also there is hardly any tide
so you don't have to worry about falling asleep and finding
yourself floating 50 yards from the shore. Much of the week was
spent on the beach, eating bread and cheese from the local
supermarket for lunch and visiting one of the many small
restaurants for dinner followed by wandering down the main street
in the evening looking at the shops and a crepe from one of the
street sellers, usually covered with lemon juice, sugar and one
of a selection of liquors (The crepe, not the street seller (What
a dirty mind you have!)). Actually I think I kept that stall in
business throughout the week. Meanwhile most of my fellow
package holiday makers had spent the evening at the karaoke in
the hotel's bar.
There are really two parts to Alcudia, the town itself and the
resort part which is centred around what is known as 'Burger King
corner' where the big hotels, discos, fast-food restaurants and
bars with names like 'The Drunken Duck'('Run by Brits for
Brits'). I am quite pleased to say that I was staying in the
I also managed to pull myself away from the beach on a couple of
occasions to visit other parts of the island. Visits were made
to the caves of Arta and Drach and to the market at Inca. The
caves were spectacular; the ones at Drach are much bigger but
also more commercialised, and for the rather high entrance price
you also get a boat trip on one of the underground lakes. The
caves at Arta are smaller but still impressive. The Inca market
was interesting but it seems to have shifted from being a local
market into being a tourist market. Lots of cheap watches and
radios for sale but also some local produce.
The weather was mostly sunny but there were a few thunder storms
in the evenings, but bear in mind that this was in October. I
expect that in the Summer it is very hot and very crowded.
All in all it was an enjoyable October break (Although I must
admit that I would have preferred Florida (See last Ringpull's
Report)) but I wouldn't really like to have gone in summer.
Don't expect any native food, because you'll only get pizzas,
although there was a good fish restaurant. I can't really
comment on how good the holiday company was as I ignored most of
their activities but the reps seemed to spend most of their time
in the hotel lobby fighting with the other company reps.
Q: How do you spot a tourist in Majorca? A: They drive a white
hatchback (Yes, almost every hire car on the island is a white
Well, I have already planned my summer holiday: Driving 2000
miles across Europe to spend a week in Italy and a week in
Austria, so You can read about it soon.
Lastly I would like to say how unfair it is that Stefan went to
California (Fantastic, isn't it?). California! I want to go
(Wait until you read the bit about Guatemale, ST NEWS ED.)
As Ringpull has just gone off to cry in the corner our number 1
(or 5) pervert will entertain you while we are waiting for our
deputy editor to recover.
As the writer of this article I (No.5) just hope you will write
back having read it. You'll know what I'm on about soon so just
lick your lips (not to mention hers), relax in a reclined
position and read on...
THE THEA GIBB FILE
Yes! (yes! yes, yes! (OO-ER!!)) this is a teXXXt file about the
loosest girl in Balfron (That wonderful village near Glasgow)
Thea is the girl who likes everything long and hard!
From the German knockwurst to the good old British banger,
this girl has had them all!! (I think you know what I mean!!).
She flaunts herself every day (In fairness I must point out
that she does have one of the best bodies around if you like
small breasts, pert bums ect.) but her attitude stinks (she
thinks she is God's gift to man while "god's gift to deprived
15 year old school kids" is more apt).
This girl has had more long, hard things through her than the
channel tunnel, which by the way is a 1:2 scale version of her
pussy! (another likeness being that historical moment when an
Englishman came from one side and a Frenchman from another (OO-
The channel tunnel (You may have noticed I don't use capitals)
will have several lanes so that plenty of vehicles can go in at
one time (just like Thea's!) but the tunnel still isn't up to
Thea standard yet as people (especially men) still don't off-
load in it (OO-ER!).
Now having read this a special invitation is made to YOU!!
Thea has just about gone through the 1000 or so males in
Balfron in her 1st year here and so now she wishes to contact
other available men. If you are in the approximate age group
of 15-40 and wish to contact her or her younger sister Holy (15),
who is carrying on the family tradition, then write giving full
details and a vibrator, nude picture or giant size box of condoms
(these impress the 16 year old a lot by the way) to:
18 KILTROCHAN DRIVE,
(Yep, she lives in my street folks!)
SPECIAL NOTE: You may have realised that some of the information
in this document is an exaggeration (not false, just an
exaggeration) the last part, including the address is not! I
write this with Thea ( who owns an ST and Amiga) standing
over my shoulder! So please do contact her at the above address
and she will be happy to reply - though in fairness you may have
to remain pen-pals (but there's a lot you can do with a pen!).
Now it's time for a Perverts Monthly world exclusive: An
interview with the ice hockey team from hell...
They came from nowhere...
They came everywhere...
They did everything...
They did anything...
They are - 'THE Bouncers!'
Yes, our sports desk has uncovered dirt on the worst female Ice
Hockey team of this century! They spent more time in the Sin Bin
than on the ice... and they Loved it!!!
The team call themselves "The bouncers" and believe in smashing
every opponent off the face of the ice! On one occasion they even
played a game with no sticks. Just baseball bats and chain-saws!
Not surprisingly the team were banned after only 5 games.
Despite this the number of serious injuries in their games has
already totalled 21!! Of this number only one injury was to a
player in the The Bouncers team. Our intrepid reporter Nosey
Bastard (or "the worst investment BUPA ever made" as he is also
known) gained an exclusive interview with the injured player -
Rosey Killer. The following is a transcript from that interview.
rep: So Rosey (WHAP!) Duh. I fink you broke my dose!
kil: Yeah! Well that'll teach you to call me Rosey! rep: I
agre...WHAM!... Arrrrrgh! My testicles!!! Give them Back!!! kil:
Not until you stop dripping blood on my carpet.
(At this point we must point out that Nosey Bastard went into
shock before fainting from blood loss and intense pain. After 3
hours of micro-surgery and several months of psychiatric
treatment he felt able to continue the interview although it is
inadvisable to sing "He's got a lovely bunch of coconuts" within
rep: So Killer, why did your team become so violent? kil:
Violent? Who's violent? I'm going to rip your...
(The rest of this part of the interview has been cut. To keep a
long story short references to carrot sticks are not to be made
when speaking to Nosey Bastard.)
rep: I must say that straight jacket and mouth guard really suit
rep: Indeed. Well perhaps we could continue with the interview.
So why did your team spend so much time in the Sin Bin? I mean I
don't see you obeying any referee.
kil (mouth guard removed): We just liked committing sin! Some of
those off-ice officials had great d**ks! I used to collect the
best of them. There they are above the mantle piece.
rep: I see. Well how about telling our readers how you got
kil: Well, it was an sprained ankle you see.
kil: It was a silly mistake really. The coach always said to use
our skates in a slashing motion but I didn't listen. There I went
jamming it into peoples juggulars like anyone would do when
suddenly my blade got stuck.
rep (going green): So what happened then?
kil: Well down the body fell and took my foot with it. As it hit
the ground and my skate went through its neck my ankle twisted
and I fell - hurting my ankle. I kicked the s**t out of that
torso I can tell you!
rep: I'm sorry but I find that absolutely disgusting! You're a
crazed psychopathic maniac! You should be destroyed! You utter
w***er! Hey! You in the background! What are you doing to her
straps? NO! Don't untie them! Oh s**t! MUMMY!
(We at the sports desk wish to offer our condolences to the
family of Nosey Bastard and would like to apologise for the fact
that only a carrot and a pair of coconuts could be returned to
the family for burial.)
This was Nosey Bastard's last report of his career. Details of
the 'Nosey Bastard fund for replacement vegetables' are available
on request. Please give generously and remember - you can't beat
Well! You've certainly done well to make it this far into the
magazine haven't you. But don't worry. As always a story is
waiting to finish you off for good! Har-har! This one is
definitely not for people of religion, moral codes or the mass of
normality (but is anything in this mag?) So if you want your mind
to self destruct then read the first instalment of our latest
story of the last of a heroic tribe of Indians and their work for
General Rolfe (and good luck)...
The last of the Bouffants
It was 1759, which meant that over on BBC 1 the news was about
Meanwhile, on the other side of the Atlantic, the British were
struggling (OO-ER) to control America, and the Americans were
struggling to control themselves (guess what - OO-ER!).
For years the sound of gunfire had echoed through the pine
forests of the virgin (all the other OO-ER's are for you to find
- hell why not count them and send your answer into perverts
forum, you could get a prize -Ed.) wilderness, and now at last it
seemed that all the banging might be reaching a climax. (I'm not
going to say a thing! - No.5) The British army, commanded by the
brave and yet eccentric General Rolfe, had advanced North along
the shores of Lake Moron to set up a base at Frank Bruno (oops!
sorry! Fort Bruno!) an ancient structure that looked as if it
would probably collapse in the first round of fighting.
Fighting alongside the gallant Britons were a motley gang of
Americans - hardy back-woodsmen whose idea of sexual
sophistication was only to f*** things you were going to eat
afterwards. One such was Zebulon Poke, or "Birdseye the passage
prober" as he was known to one and all. Always by his side were
two loyal companions from the Bouffant Indian tribe - Cupasoop
Encamped at Fort Bruno, Rolfe and his men awaited the arrival of
the French infantry, commanded by Marquis De Mountcalves. With
them were their fearsome allies, the Hugeone Redskins.
One night, On the shores of lake Moron...
Two Indians and a frontiersman sat on (their?) rocks by the
shores of Lake Moron. The frontiersman was as thin, pale, raw-
boned and tough as a cheap mince pie. His companions were tall
and thickset. Both wore their hair in an immaculate back-combed
style which contained more thick gels than a Jilly Cooper novel.
The older of the two, Cupasoop, was speaking: "Then the Great
Spirit came amongst the people," (OO-ER! Sorry but I couldn't
resist that one! - No.5) he expounded.
"You mean God?" Birdseye inquired.
"No, I mean Pernod," Cupasoop spat sarcastically. "Whadda ya
think I mean, smart-ass? Yeah, I mean God."
"Or rather," his white friend put in, "you mean the primitive,
pagan deity whom you in your ignorance term God."
"Oh right, sure," Mucus snarled. "Primitive. I forgot that in
your book civilised is turning a guy's wife into a pillar of
"Enough already!" Cupasoop exclaimed, "I wanna finish this story
before I die and the doctors only given me twenty years to live.
Now, where was I? Right. The Great Spirit came amongst the people
and told us to f*** off! Wait! No he didn't! He told us to put
feathers in our locks."
"Why?" asked Birdseye.
"Cos layering was out of season and bubble-perms hadn't been
invented yet," Cupasoop rasped. "How the hell do I know? All I
know is that he wanted us to have these feather cut hairdos. But
my people wouldn't do it on account of them being the Bouffants."
"It was the ancient tradition of your forefathers," Birdseye
"Yeah," said Mucus, "and they'd just bought a job lot of setting
lotion. Would've been a shame to waste it."
"And so the Great Spirit became angry," Cupasoop continued
unabated. "And now my people are gone".
"Disease and drink," Birdseye ruminated.
"Yep", the Indian said sadly," that and the fact they heard
Kevin Costner was filming a new movie in Colorado and needed
extras. Now only Mucus and I remain. We are the last of the
At that moment the trio's discourse on the history of this
fascinating native American clan was interrupted by the
appearance of a young British soldier, whose uniform of capped
teeth and well oiled pectorals marked him out as an officer of
the Baywatch Highlanders.
"I bring a message from General Rolfe," he panted, his sporran
bouncing up and down against his bermudas like the pubic wig of
some invisible nymphomaniac.
"A message? What is it?" Mucus asked.
The young officer fixed him with a steely glare. "It's a
collection of words formed to communicate a meaning," he snapped,
"but that's enough jokes stolen from Aeroplane. Come to the
General's tent immediately. He has a mission for you."
Moments later, General Rolfe's tent...
But what will happen in General Rolfe's tent? What is this
mission that will surely plunge our hero's into mortal danger?
And will Mucus produce enough of his namesake to keep his hair
firmly in place until our next thrilling instalment? Tune in next
time to find out...
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.