"Sex is a wonderful experience. Especially with another person."
by Gard Eggesbø Abrahamsen
The loud hammering of a door being slammed shattered the
silence as it echoed through the empty corridor. The broken
silence tried to fight back but was once again knocked down by
restless footsteps moving down the corridor, showing the way to
two human voices that seemed to be somewhat concerned.
Two items of metal scraped against each other. A hatch
opened. Light leaked into the room like a blob of slime
filling the already chokingly thick emptiness of the room,
revealing a boy who was staring at the grey, shadowless
walls, barely moving his lips.
The boy had long, uncut hair, glasses and a minute
moustache. His Sepultura T-shirt was soaked with blood and
snot, dripping down on to his trousers.
"Gukkulukk," he was mumbling to himself, before realizing that
some nasty people were watching him. He turned his head and
squinted with fear in his eyes at the open hatch, as if it was
death itself that was peeking in to him. "Gukkulukk!" he
whispered with a mixture of pain and mystery in his deep breath.
One of the men in the corridor spoke. "We found him
outside a disco. He had crucified a 12-year-old to a neon sign,
under which he was kneeling and praying, calling for someone
"Do you think it is one of those new satani...?" the other
one tried to ask, but was rudely cut off by a loud growl from
the small boy in the cell.
He was now uttering a gurgle before he started drooling on the
floor, still staring at the wall. Sweat wettened his face as
his arms were getting restless, trying to escape from the T-
shirt, it seemed. He got up on his feet, screaming.
"Julie! Master of the Gukkulukk! Come for me! I'm yours!"
"When he burst out like that, we've found something quite
interesting," the first man in the corridor said, as he
connected a walkman to a panel by the door which allowed him to
play the tape for the psycopath in the cell.
Almost immediately, the boy cracked up and ended up on his
knees, weeping. Man number two in the corridor looked at the
walkman. Through the front of it, he could barely see the
label of the tape saying "Guns'n'Roses: Yesterdays".
After a minute or so, the boy got back up on his feet and
started banging his head to the walls. Blood started running from
the marks on the wall, colouring away its monotone sad greyness.
Eventually, the boy fell back onto the floor, whispering,
"He'll be fine," the first man said as he unplugged his
walkman and closed the hatch again. "Let's go."
Restless footsteps echoed through the corridor before a door
was slammed shut. Yet again, silence filled the grey cells.
Just the mumbling of someone repeatedly whispering "Gukkulukk,"
could be heard, as well as another one crying for Julie.
Another one was greatly talking about Alida. Yet another one was
talking to himself about Miranda. A fifth was...
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.