"It's been lovely. But I have to scream now."
MAC ODD - THE END OF THE BEGINNING
by Mad Doc
Gush forth my divine divinity of being a being and let it shine
upon the people who rejoice over worn out mattresses in forgotten
Eeeeeerie sound coming from the huge wheel barrow.
This is a point in your life and for your life. For a lifetime?
Well, if you finish it, certainly. Otherwise...
Will you ever come back to it? Will your brain comprehend the
signals sent to your eyes from the world of chaotic reality?
Is MAC ODD really an angry blue dwarf?
These are just some of the questions you won't find the answers
to here, but try "East of Eden". The chances of finding them
there are much bigger (although admittedly, still not very big at
I am Mad Doc, and I have been chosen to put down the words of
the master and his nasty universe in exquisite writing.
You are welcome to read along as I unfold for you the bits and
pieces that are MAC ODD, but be warned! You might become a
follower, and I have no responsibility for the effects my words
I am but the man who passes on...
Krrrbz..were many as the car slowly disappeared in the
horizon...bltiih...there will be heavy showers of gurglesalt in all
zones...errrrhj...and now on to...kritzkratz...to become the
tic, tac, tic, tac, tic, tac, tic, tac, many tics, many tacs,
tic, tic, tic, BRIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIING!!!!!!
Cue: Atmospheric music with horror elements.
Cue: Loud Stereo Voice passing through from left to right.
Loud Stereo Voice: "YOU HAVE ENTERED THE UNIVERSE OF MAC ODD".
Cue: Star-Wars-like alarm bells and a quite extraordinary amount
of sick, thick yellow smoke.
Suddenly everything is clear to me and makes sense. Nobody snap
your fingers please.
Oh, did I forget to say that you should feel free to do the
locomotion? Well, I'm just a little ecstatic, you know.
GET ON WITH IT!
It was like any other morning in the tavern. Cedric was cleaning
the heavy wooden tables with a wet cloth, and in the background
he could hear his master swear and curse at the wine barrels that
just wouldn't fit into place. He slowly walked over to the door
and poked his head outside, taking a deep breath of the morning
air and absorbing the quiet atmosphere.
His mind started drifting. He thought of beautiful women,
dreaded deeds and daring do and a life that could be his with a
bit of luck. Then, suddenly, he heard the sound of horses in the
distance. He couldn't see anything yet though, and he didn't give
it much thought. His mind was set on cleaning again and with a
light shrug of his shoulders, he shook off the last remaining
parts of his dream. His master had appeared behind him. "I see
you haven't cleaned those ale cups over there, so would you get
on with it boy!" "Right away" Cedric said and collected the
evidence of last night's heavy drinking. He found it a bit silly
cleaning them, as they would probably be used again by the same
persons some eight hours later, but he knew it had to be done,
and he had been doing it every day around the same time for
several months now. But just as he was carrying the cups to the
small room in the back, the sound of horses once more reached his
The horses had stopped outside the tavern and a few moments
later, a man appeared in the doorway. Cedric was, to say the
least, chocked by the sight of this man, for he knew very well
who it was. He was a Norman new-style troubadour who called
himself Lump of Frozen Water, and he had recently left his old
guild NWA (Normans With Attitude) to try doing things for
himself. Cedric remembered old classics from NWA like Intercourse
with the King's Guards and The Fair Maiden Swallow It.
Lump marched towards Cedric, pulled out a big knife and killed
IT IS NEVER TIME YET. THIS DOESN'T MEAN THAT IT WILL NEVER BE
TIME, BUT AT THIS POINT IT IS NEVER TIME YET.
Wow, that was amazing! I've never experienced it so strong
before. Oh, sorry (forte), ehm, when you see direct speech
presented like just before, then know that it is the voice of the
Umba, umba, the pages are blank, zuncayank, when you can't see
them mate, kadooong, kadooong, kading, kadung, only when you turn
to look bbbbbbbbbb are they filled with text. - Click.(/'
That was an original work by yours truly called My Mind is Your
Television. I hope you enjoyed it. I didn't, so I gave it to you.
THAT WAS VERY GOOD. YOU ARE GETTING WICKED MAD DOC
Thank you master.
If they only knew how intelligent I am. But of course, it's much
nicer this way. I can come and go as I please and still take it
all. Their food, their water, their love and their time. To some
of them, giving away time is harder than giving away love. I
don't understand them. I don't care about time at all. Oh look,
there's one of them with my plate! I'm so excited, I just can't
help looking cute. I'm actually so excited, I can't think. Gotta
switch to reflexes...
...Gosh, I really lost it this time, but it worked. Uhm, this is
so tasty. It always smells the same, even for a trained nose like
mine, but this definitely tastes better than most of the stuff
they bring me.
I wonder if they've ever heard the one about the young robot
lovers who really knew how to turn each other on? Well, if they
haven't, then there's nothing I can do about it, because if they
discover that I can write on the floor with that piece of chalk I
found the other day, then they're not going to feed me any more.
Oh no, they'll sell me, and while they're feeding themselves,
I'll be undergoing painful tests in some remote location.
Ah, the last piece of meat. She won't be able to tell the
difference between my plate now and before she filled it with,
uhm, whatever it was.
So what to do now? I think I'll go lie in the sun for a while. I
really do wish my legs weren't so short.
Now, now, should I climb a tree or just plainly lie down on the
If I climb a tree, I might not be able to get down again - I
mustn't forget that I sometimes have that problem, and I'm too
lazy today to sit on some branch, shouting for help for ages.
No, I'll lie down right here, that's what I'll do.
Okay, here I am, but... Good dog! What's that thing hovering
above the house?!?
"Good morning! I'll just put on my red slippers and head for the
desk. It's such a shame this house isn't bigger, so I had to rent
a room for my desk 123 miles away. But don't worry, I can work
while I walk, and indeed, walk while I work. I'll just put on
something while I put on something".
Commercial break - How to look after yourself.
Do you tend to walk into lampposts, stand still for hours with a
remote look on your face or fall off tall buildings?
In that case, you need help, so why not simply get rid of that
case? Get your "case where you don't need help" now. It's only
slightly bigger than a flight case and comes in 16.7 million
If you place an order within the first 4 billion years after
this commercial has been shown, we will send you a free padded
helmet and a parachute in advance - we don't want anything to
happen to you before you've paid for the case.
Call now on our free phone number. If you decide not to order
the case anyway, you can always have a good laugh over the price.
"Case where you don't need help": 13-1313131313
Brought to you by The Company.
Okay, I'm on my way, but which way?
Anyway, bow to the mighty MA
UUPS! IT'S STILL NEVER TIME YET.
A female voice coming from a small room in a big house:
"Oh yes, ooooooh yes! Yes, yes, yes. Oh, let's switch, please,
let's switch. yeah, that's it, just lie still, I'll take care of
you. Oh yes, oh, oh, oh yes, oh yes, ooh, ah, oooooh. Oh yeah, oh
yeah, aaaaah... You're so good in bed, Silly Doctor".
"Thank you, my lovely former patient".
Palatum durum, vestibulum oris, sinus frontalis, ramus
mandibulae,tunica mucosa oris, isthmus glandulae thyroideae,
A female voice coming from a small room in a big divine
"A bit more of that, oh yeah. God, it's so narrow in here. Why
couldn't we have found another place to, aaargh, oh, okay, ha,
ha, oh, oh, okay, guess it isn't too narrow for you. Yes, oh, oh,
ooooh! (sigh) You're sooo good in hospital, Silly Doctor".
"Why thank you, well proportioned nurse of mine".
Ventriculus tertius, lamina septi pellucidi, fimbria hippocampi,
vermis cerebelli, nucleus vestibularis rostralis, frisa
rhomboidea, tractus spinalis nervi trigemeni.
A female voice coming from a big room in a big house:
"Oh yeah, oh yeah, argh, oh, arh, arh, oh yes, oh yes, oh yeees!
Arh, arhhh, oh, oh, yeah, that's it, oh, that's it, oh, oh, oh,
arh, oh, yes, yes, yeeees! Oh yes, oh ya. You're so very, very
good in absence, Silly Doctor".
"My poor wife, all alone in that big house, and I don't think
I'll have any energy left for her tonight, when I come home"...
YOU REALLY ENJOYED THAT DIDN'T YOU, YOU LITTLE PERVERT BASTARD!
HERE WE ARE, TRYING TO ENTERTAIN YOU, BUT ALL YOU SEE IS THE SEX.
I BET YOU'VE ALREADY FOUND HIDDEN MESSAGES IN THIS SPEECH, AND
THAT YOU'RE GETTING ALL STEAMED UP ABOUT THEM. WELL LET ME MAKE
SOMETHING ABSOLUTELY CLEAR TO YOU. THE NEXT TIME YOU ENCOUNTER
SOMETHING JUST REMOTELY CONNECTED TO THE ACT OF BIOLOGICAL
REPRODUCTION, WITH OR WITHOUT THE ACTUAL REPRODUCTION AS THE
OBJECTIVE OF THE ACT, SKIP OVER IT.
PRACTICALLY SPEAKING, THIS MEANS THAT YOU SHOULD STOP READING
I AGREED TO APPEAR IN THIS LETTER COLLECTION WITH THE ASSUMPTION
THAT IT WOULD BE READ BY DECENT PEOPLE. OH YOU DON'T KNOW THE
MEANING OF THE WORD DECENT, WELL THAT DOESN'T SURPRISE ME ONE
SINGLE SIDED, DOUBLE DENSITY MEDIA STORED BIT OF A BITMAPPED
IMAGE OF A FRENCH FARMER BEING FED TO DEATH BY TWO ENORMOUS, OUT
OF THIS WORLD ENCOUNTER OF THE THIRD DEGREE KIND OF GEESE!!!
You're overdoing it master.
ARE YOU SURE?
I am sorry, but yes.
OKAY, EVERYONE BE MY GUEST, GO AHEAD AND READ ALL YOU WANT TO.
That's not bad enough, master.
WHAT? WHO ARE YOU TO JUDGE, YOU INFERIOR...
That'll do it.
Quote from The Book of Seldom Used Finnish Wisdom:
"Don't eat small yellow pills or your legs might not fall off".
Mug. Mug. Mugmugmugmug. Mug. Mug. Mug. Coffee. Ah. Ah.
Mugmugmugmugtea. Pot plants, oh yeah. Eat the sun. Mugmug. Burn
the toast. Mug. Kill the mosquito. Mugmugmugmugmug. Hurrah. Mug,
mug, mug. Mug. Zero gravity. Mug.
Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the MAC ODD State Circus. We've
got magazines insulting famous people, we've got politicians
threatening to drop the bomb, we've got musicians saying that
money means nothing, we've got kids with hand grenades and last
but not least, we've got writers who are completely bonkers.
Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the one and only, the
incrrrredible. Ladies and gentlemen: The Latter!!!
I'm Mad. Mad Doc. That's what my mother called me. No, not
really. It's just a product of the master's imagination. Just as
I am - as such. The master? No not that master. The one above
And that's when it all became so clear. MAC ODD was just a
puppet on a string. A string attached to a wooden thingy
controlled by the hand of.. The Great Someone.
Well, so says a stupid legend anyway. Of course, anyone well
educated in the wisdom of MAC ODD will know that it's complete
gibberish. It's also highly illegal to print, but then, this is
an electronic medium, isn't it? However, if you were to send this
to an Epson compatible printer switched on-line, something
unspeakably nasty could happen to you. I'd love to tell you what,
but then it wouldn't be unspeakable - just nasty. On the other
hand: Blood dripping fetus crawling with giant maggots. That
ought to help, now it's just unspeakable. "It's nothing". Now you
can actually print the whole thing in thousands of copies without
any retaliation lurking in the shadows, lit like a
lagemiddelkatalog by the desire to grab you, consume you and
transform you into something soft and smelly.
Or in other words: The map of flowers is in the tasty handlebar
(the only place in town that serves the Mighty Pedal Slammer).
Touched by The Great Someone
insignificant as clay
killed with a rusty shotgun
back the very next day
Touched by The Great Someone
just about to catch a glimpse
I don't know why I'm doing this. I'm sorry, it's nonsense. Don't
believe a word of it. Mad Doc - Rubbish is your name. Oh blimey,
there I go again, it's Mad Doc of course. I make the much hated
followers so frustrated. Must give them something.
Yep, there's still a holy MAC ODD *TEGLSTEN* to be collected.
All MAC ODD demands in return is your youngest daughter. Send her
recorded to the usual address and your personal *TEGLSTEN* will
be delivered pronto. Preferably, she should be recorded on a
Bursting blatter, I feel like a chicken.
WHO NEEDS NOSTRADAMUS? HERE'S MAC ODD'S 5TH CENTURY. IT WILL
ANSWER ALL THE QUESTIONS YOU'LL EVER HAVE ABOUT YOUR FUTURE AND
It's plain bedtime.
There's nothing as legs and the eyes are sore from observing
squirrels with bad teeth.
Unless your poster has expired, there's no reason to call her.
And the frogs they eat and eat and eat.
Stand on the shining.
The rug will embrace you and take you to smooth places of silver
and corn flakes.
Count your ribs to know the magenta truth.
And the frogs they eat and eat and eat.
They smell of radios.
Donna is crying yellow tears and the bear from the drug store is
The dancing refill pads will spread their lies in the spring.
And the frogs they eat and eat and eat.
The figs are rotten.
The wedding present from the screaming anacondas shall cover the
There's no money for the hard of tasting.
And the frogs they eat and eat and eat.
Peter is a car.
Countless bananas are falling from the sky to wet the kinetic
The son of the daughter is laughing like a sausage.
And the frogs are throwing up.
There was definitely something wrong when he went to bed that
night. Deep down he knew what it was. Deep down, he knew
everything, every destiny of every creature in the universe. But
he would never be able to face it. Loud Stereo Voice had been
over for tea earlier that day and everything had seemed so
peaceful and normal. Now, the darkness was getting even darker,
and it was thick and almost pushing it's way through the windows
and the chimney. It was like the candles were about to give up,
worn out but still fighting. Mad Doc gave them peace. First now
did he notice the glow of the moon and he said to himself that he
was paranoid and had been writing too much the last days. So he
crawled into his small but comfortable bed, thought of fluffy
rabbits and fell asleep with a big smile on his face.
3 hours and 57 minutes later, he woke up, covered in sweat and
his eyes full of fear. He stroke a match and looked at the table
next to his bed.
It was gone. The book that had been by his side since the Day of
Enlightenment was gone.
In almost mechanical movements, he got out of his bed and
slowly, slowly walked towards the window. He looked out into the
darkness, he looked at the moon and he looked up. And there, in
the most shining purple stars he had ever seen, was written:
**** **** **** **** * * **** * *
* * * * * * * * * * *
*** **** **** *** * * *** * *
* * * * * * * * * * * *
* * * * * **** * * **** **** ****
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.