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First Void of Decadre

December 7th, 1999

 

 

Boggling Infinity:
Factor Whitney's Umbrella
by Tom Bubul

To: Factor Sruce, Gatehouse
From: Factotum Torjion, City Courts

Another fine day at the Courts, my dear Sruce - and I have stumbled upon the dark of a most curious object. Factor Whitney, you know, squat little man, was wandering up and down the steps of the Courts carrying a most curious object. As you know, and I don't mean to point out the obvious at you, Miss Sruce - it was raining figurative cats and dogs.

Now, as I was saying. Up and down the steps of the Courts walked Factor Whitney - a friend of yours, perhaps? - with this object, ever so curious. It was a newspaper he had folded into an ever so curious sort of sailor's cap, which he referred to as his umbrella. Note, in my past experiences with rain and umbrellas, I have found that the rain is liquid and that the umbrellas are slightly conical, with spokes radiating from a point at the top. In this case, of coarse, it was raining figurative cats and dogs - though the curiosity came in this peculiar sailor's cap, this umbrella. It was folded in such a curious way that it made my eyes roll in their sockets, looking for the side that fit the description of "up". At a point on it's top, up and down all switched places. The humorous cartoons in the paper swapped places with the Faction Extractions.

What was curious about Whitney was that he was soaking wet, giggling like an idiot, under this umbrella that didn't seam to work at all. Upon closer examination, it appeared that beneath the umbrella, the rain was falling upwards off of Whitney. In the vicinity of this umbrella, this unnatural, mathematic juxtaposition of up and down confused the rain. Where it puddled on the ground nearby Factor Whitney, it felt suddently compelled to fly back up, or down, as it may be, towards the downward-faceing face of the umbrella. Barring the obvious fun one can have by putting one of these bizarre umbrellas outside of a beehive, imagine the implications of surfing on one in the gravity well between Bytopia's layers.

Yours,
Torjion

 

First Market of Decadre

December 2nd, 1999

 

Another fine story from those barmies at the Barmy Shorts Company, this time diving into the strange world of Regulus, a city who's order might be more barmy then seems. Follow the story of a young mathematician, who like all his kind seeks comfort in the calculation and infinity of Mechanus, even if he tries to seek it out only in his house. Wind yourselves up and read, A Night Around and Around Regulus.

 

First Lady of Decadre, Factol's Day

December 1st, 1999

 

Quite a treat for you today, yes, what ever cutter wants as a gift under their leafless tree, some jokes! Laugh madly as you read these cutters, if for nothing else then the entropy of madness. Lose your mind, sharpen your wit, and distill the air with these bits of comical anarchy.

"Chant says that the Anarchists and Indeps are plotting together, know why?"
"They're both in League with each other!"
- Some bubber

"I say, I say, what do you get when you starve a Guvner?"
"A Lawempty Guvner!"
- Ru'in, a fiend waiting to hear his sentence from the judge

"Prithee, if the Doomguard guard the doom, assume, whoom do they guard doom from?"
"They guard doom from doom!"
- A merry fool at the Palace of the Jester

"What do you get if cross a bariaur with a bladeling?"
"A sod with a holey wooly sweater"
- A petitioner on the Outlands, making up for a serious month

"Right, I say, I say, why can't you hang me on the leafless tree?"
"You've lost... the... cutters, cutters!"
- Ru'in agian, laughing madly as he swings on the gallows

 

 

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All content copyright 1999 Jeremiah Golden or credited authors.