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04 Oct 99 - 11:26 AM (#120487) Subject: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: Peter T. It had started out so well, the team setting out in the high bright morning air as soon as the gates to Peshawar opened, disguised as a merchant caravan selling Ricky Martin T-shirts to the tribals. And now here they were, late in the hot afternoon, deep in the rocky Afghan hills, pinned down by a murderous cross-fire.
Sgt. Kat chomped down on her stogie, and smiled to herself. These MF's were already way too overconfident, hurling down antiwoman slogans from their shadowy lairs like dud grenades. She squinted for a moment towards the sun, arcing towards the west. They had a hour or two to go before nightfall. Then she turned her head and checked out how the troops were doing. She didn't know what the sight of them did to the Taliban, but they scared the hell out of her.
Crouched behind the closest rock, balancing the bazooka, was "U.S." Wyowoman. Kat smiled when she remembered how she had got the name. Wyowoman was a bigshot editor back in Wyoming, and one day after she had finished reaming out some poor hapless reporter for not being able to spell "excrement" worth shit, he turned to her as he was leaving the office, and said, "I guess that's why they call you 'Mr. Grant' eh?" And Wyowoman stood there and grunted, "Not Lou Grant, you useless F***ing bastard, Ulysses S. Grant!! Get the hell out of my office!"
Feeding her ammo was "Snaps" bbc, the CIA-FBI liason, the one with the photographic memory and the memories to match. She had come out of the hardest school of all, school, to be on the team. On the other side, tinkering with the laser-guided rocket, was "Ocarina" Barbara, who could make anything, though she preferred blowing things up and putting big holes in them. Beside her, working the command post radio, was "Radio" Duckboots, the famous engineer who had been dropped behind enemy lines in Bolivia, set up the clandestine radio station, and driven the local government into submission by endless replaying of old Freddy Mercury songs.
Across the narrow valley cut, her rifle slanting out from the shadow of a shallow cavemouth, was Alice, who had had to leave America in a hurry after an ex boyfriend had one morning achieved low earth orbital in a bomb-wired S.U.V. Beside her was the party animal, Annap, who had left the Peshawar traders the night before with a lesson in belly dancing they would not soon forget, and had already given a few new navels to a bunch of dirty burnooses somewhere just up ahead.
And next to her was the Aussie, "Fair" Alison, in her swagman kit, making the Taliban hop about like 'roos on a frypan; and it was her curses, mingled with the salty sailor's phrases "Shanty" Margarita had picked up in her days as the concertina player with the Navy Seals, that were already causing several Talibanese to run for the border, their ears aflame.
And there were others, others she did not know well. There was Hanan Rashid, dedicated to bringing the true teachings of Islam about women to her people; there was Sherry Aims, Commando Nurse, who looked after the horses and the camels; and other women, tough women. Great team. None however, as brawny and tough as Big Michelle, with her beautiful blond hair and her thick red beard. Kat couldn't figure her out, really, especially as she seemed to spend a lot of time hanging around Alison. Butch dyke, probably: though she certainly didn't dress like one -- evening gowns in these mountains were not exactly utilitarian, but she was sure built to fight.
And then of course there was herself, Sgt. Kat Fury, graduate from Catspaw's Angels, multiple winner of the Ms. Magazine G.I. Jane Award, Divorce Advisor to the First Lady, and now this: Leader of the Howling Mudcatters, Dedicated to the Liberation of the Women of the World, Starting with Afghanistan (HMDLWWSA).
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04 Oct 99 - 11:36 AM (#120493) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: MMario ow! my sides hurt! not to mention I now have the attention of everyone in the office, having laughed so hard that tears were streaming! |
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04 Oct 99 - 11:37 AM (#120494) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: catspaw49 Geezus Pete............Nothing more remains to be said, although I'm sure it will be. "Yo...yeah you with the forklift.....Can we get several more skids of bandwidth over here?......." Spaw |
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04 Oct 99 - 11:37 AM (#120495) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: Roger the skiffler Well,pop my bubblewrap, Pete, that's pretty damn good (and I loved Blake Morrison, too, write the screenplay!).O.K., wimmin, who would you want to play you? Tricky casting for Big Michelle: Julie T. Wallace in a beard or John Goodman in a frock??? |
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04 Oct 99 - 12:18 PM (#120511) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: Big Mick Pete, you have entirely too much time on your focking hands................HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA.......LMAOWRAOTFF........................Jazus, but between you and Vixen, I am speechless. You could have one money betting whether that would ever have happened.......May I suggest Chewbacca for the role of Big Michelle....... Mick |
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04 Oct 99 - 12:26 PM (#120513) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: Big Mick Oh yeah.............Peter............nice to see we read the same comics when we were kids Mick |
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04 Oct 99 - 01:06 PM (#120532) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: katlaughing Well, I am honoured indeed and LMAO!!!!!! THIS is the righteous woman I wanted to grow up to be!!! May I add a couple of others to *my crew*: Ozzie Helen- chief negotiator and group sing instructor with newlywed Bruce in tow Moonchild- head of night manuevers and lunar orbit projectiles And, let's not forget, because we DO believe in balance, the Howling Mudcat Commandos' Auxillary with the intrepid Peter T. as chief. Anymore, ahem, volunteers? |
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04 Oct 99 - 01:16 PM (#120539) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: sophocleese Sign me up katlaughing, I could be in charge of prisoners and play my guitar for them - despite what the Geneva convention states, it is NOT torture, really, (if the last couple I was guarding had perfect pitch and they ended up diving headfirst over a cliff, it was not my fault). |
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04 Oct 99 - 01:20 PM (#120540) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: WyoWoman Singing sweetly from her post behind the boulders and sandbags, as she methodically aims her ordnance where the sun don't shine, comes the voice of U.S. Wyowoman, querilla editor extraordinaire,
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04 Oct 99 - 01:21 PM (#120541) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: WyoWoman I mean Guerilla... Say, isn't KoKo a guerilla, too??? |
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04 Oct 99 - 01:24 PM (#120545) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: bobby's girl Bobby's girl reporting for duty Ma'am! I'll deafen the opposition wih my morris bells, and if they get close enough, the razor blades sown into the edges of my hankies can do untold damage! |
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04 Oct 99 - 03:27 PM (#120607) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: Melodeon As a pacifist I have to be a consientious objector but I will volunteer as stretcher bearer and masseusse of damaged egos. Melodeon |
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04 Oct 99 - 03:31 PM (#120608) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: Bert Hey 'cleese, can I be a prisoner? Please, I wanna be a prisoner, lemme be a prisoner. |
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04 Oct 99 - 03:35 PM (#120609) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: emily rain em "the femme": soft spoken and retiring spy reporting for undercover work behind enemy lines. |
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04 Oct 99 - 03:43 PM (#120615) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: MMario aw.....uncercover work behind enemy lines? Why should THEY have all the fun! How about some undercover work for the ALLIES????? |
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04 Oct 99 - 04:02 PM (#120625) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: sophocleese Bert I'll let you be a prisoner but only if you lead the exotic dancing as I play my bodhran. And I warn you it has to be exotic if you're going to try and keep time with MY bodhran playing, sort of unintentional 11/4, 7/8, and 15/2 timing I think, interspersed with 6/8 and 4/4. |
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04 Oct 99 - 04:11 PM (#120630) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: emily rain mm, shame on you. this is wartime! we all have to make sacrifices. now of course if you want to go undercover as some wacko taliban leader... |
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04 Oct 99 - 04:17 PM (#120632) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: Chet W. Shouldn't these messages be confidential, if not top secret! And where does Pat Buchanan fit in. Damn the torpedoes! Chet |
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04 Oct 99 - 04:20 PM (#120636) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: katlaughing Melodeon...me, too! That's a spiritual Kalishnikov which Peter has me waving around. Now Hear This (I know it's Navy) Oh, alright, TenHut! By order of Sgt. Kat, all weapons are ordered to be of the spiritual variety only. These being the far superior weaponry of choice and effectiveness,(it's the consciousness, ya know!?) we expect everyone to wield theirs to their uptmost capacity. Karmic brownie points will be entered in the log of the day and will be toted up upon the Liberation of the Afghani Women! 'cleese, get that bohdran going, quickstep, we need a diversion. Ya got any veils we can dress Bert in for that dancing number? Add the guys from the Auxilliary and you'll have A Chorus Line....plenty of diversion for em's under(the)covers work. Go get 'em, em! WyoWoman...didja ever dream we'd be half way around the world liberating our *sisters*? Keep it up, your role in leadership is crucial. Womon your posts, all! Get ready! |
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04 Oct 99 - 04:28 PM (#120641) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: sophocleese All right, you asked for it. Here's your veil Bert, is that an improvement or what?. Come tread me the measure, I give you the pleasure, The one-step, the two-step, or three, The polka so tender You'll always remember, With joy if you tread it with me. You'll be glad that we met - To the clarionette We will swing and we'll twist on the floor, With a bound we will mount, To the middle and count - One-two-three, one-two-three, four. Good lo' Sarah Binks to get the blood moving and those veils swinging. Up and at'em. |
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04 Oct 99 - 04:30 PM (#120643) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: MMario so that's the secret! they's gonna weld things to the afghani's upmost capacities! DANG! that's gonna HURT! |
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04 Oct 99 - 04:35 PM (#120647) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: katlaughing MM, LMAO!!!! Guess it's just a natural for a *welder's* daughter! |
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04 Oct 99 - 04:41 PM (#120649) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: Bert 'cleese, that bodhran should match my dancing perfectly. Whether the veil is an improvement or not depends how much of me it hides. If it's about six feet or more long and made of blackout material it should do just fine. Bert. |
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04 Oct 99 - 04:46 PM (#120651) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: sophocleese I'm afraid its only about 5 feet long, (we'll get to see your foot work) black out material from the top to about 3 feet and then sheer with an engaging design of sequins. Will it suit? |
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04 Oct 99 - 04:47 PM (#120654) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: katlaughing It's got to have those little tinkly bells hanging off it, too!*G* |
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04 Oct 99 - 04:52 PM (#120656) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: sophocleese OOps. I knew I forgot something! I don't think I want to close my eyes and see what this would look like, but I have an idea of where the bells could go if the veil is too thin a fabric for them...Bert would certainly distract any and all from the undercover work. |
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04 Oct 99 - 05:11 PM (#120666) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: Bert Sounds as though it might work. |
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04 Oct 99 - 10:45 PM (#120785) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: DonMeixner What a giggle! Jack Kirby is sitting up there in the Great Cosmos looking at this thread and grinning. Stan Lee is rewriting it to add more aliteration. I can't imagine how we worked a Marvel Comics connection into the Mudcat and yet. There it is. My hats off to you Peter. vey well done. Don |
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04 Oct 99 - 11:04 PM (#120797) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: catspaw49 Well Peter, I said it this AM and I'll say it again tonite... "More bandwidth here....'bout 2 more skids......" Truly inspired...and Don is right. He's a collector I understand, so he should know. But Don...What is it that doesn't get worked in around here? Spaw |
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04 Oct 99 - 11:16 PM (#120806) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: Dave Swan Peter, That's brilliant. All we need now is a tame illustrator. Banging my head on the floor in tribute to your mastery. E.S. |
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04 Oct 99 - 11:45 PM (#120815) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: Lonesome EJ Wyowoman skewered the tank in the sweet spot of the Bazooka's crosshairs. bbc slammed in a load and rapped Wyo's helmet."Fire in the friggin hole!" barked bbc, as Wyo took a deep breath, let half of it out, and pressed the trigger. The Iranian tank, garishly painted with phrases like "throw another log on the fire,Syrisha" and " Loose Women- Tight Veils", exploded in a fireball that illuminated the Chauvinist Oppressor's defensive positions. Duckboots grinned and growled into the two-way. " Scorpion-Scorpion, the tank's your mark! Put your ordinance 40 yards west of it!" Jeri's voice crackled back," I'm on it, Sister!" The canyon was suddenly filled with the roar and chop of the Cobra Helicopter as it swept in, hovered for a split second, then slammed a pair of rockets dead center into the cowering pack of skulking wrong-thinkers. |
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05 Oct 99 - 12:17 AM (#120826) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: katlaughing Sgt. Kat yelled Charge! and led her troops raging down the hill. Like whirling devishes doing the two step quick time interspersed with looonnnggg strides and leaps from boulder to boulder, they wreaked havoc among the chauvinists. As soon as they gathered the prisoners together, they made them strip off all of their gear, then all of their clothes. Then they handed them tight veils with bells attached and told them to wrap up and start walking. Celebratory uulations could be ehard from the ring of hills around them, as slowly, but proudly, Afghani women began to emerge from their caves of refuge. The Liberation Sisters of Afghanistan lead them in the triumphant procession to meet up with Kat and her band. One small battle had been won. Now could the Howling Mudcats get these "new recruits" ready in time for the next one? |
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05 Oct 99 - 12:54 AM (#120836) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: katlaughing As Peter says, "prufreed, always prufreed!" Let's see they are dervishes; the uulations could be heard; the battle was won; and the question was could.....!!!Oy!!! |
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05 Oct 99 - 01:43 AM (#120850) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: Lonesome EJ Suddunly Cat and her colleegs were shocked by a racquet behind them. A raggid groop of ruffyans appeered on the bluffs- "Git them, my harty Lads!" there leader shouted," We have surprized them through deciet and cuning!" The Howling Mudcatteers were indeed caugt with there trouzers down! " Take up your whepons, my bold grinadeers!" the conserned Ms Cat called out," It is the infamus band of blaggards known as The Miserable Spellers! Quickly, take up your dicshunnaries and thesauruses!" |
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05 Oct 99 - 01:51 AM (#120851) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: roopoo Sounds like you need reinforcements, sisters. Count me in, there's nowt can beat a well-aimed size 8 clog! mouldy |
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05 Oct 99 - 09:59 AM (#120906) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: Peter T. [Dear Mick/Don, I read nothing but Marvel Comics from about age 11 to 16. I had every comic. Sold them all in 1983 for about $10,000 dollars when I needed the money -- hardest decision I ever made. When people talk about how children shouldn't be wasting their time reading comics, I laugh. How right they were. yours, Peter T.] |
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05 Oct 99 - 11:33 AM (#120929) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: Larry B. Meanwhile, the Dirty Tricks squad, led by "Crazy Larry" B., has spiked the water supply with "Essence of Dan Quayle", captured the TV station, and started a 24-hour-a-day program of "Murphy Brown" reruns. Soon the populace begins to believe it is real life. LB |
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05 Oct 99 - 11:35 AM (#120932) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: katlaughing Whoo-Hoo! Go Larry! Go Murphy!!! |
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05 Oct 99 - 11:44 AM (#120935) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: Barbara I don't suppose you want to know I drew underground comix for a while, do ya? Nah, I didn't think so... What? Oh, Wimmen's Comix, mostly. Shoot, I'd settle for blowing their minds...out any available orifice, Come on, charge, womyn! Fighting a never ending battle for truth, justice and the American Way...
I think those are actually ululations, Kat, and won't we all be in trouble when Max adds a spell chequer? |
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05 Oct 99 - 11:49 AM (#120938) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: Davey Kat and her troops weren't caught totally off guard, they were prepared for deception, and now they rolled out their secret weapon, a portable turntable and a 500 watt power speaker. Soon the 'soothing' strains of Slim Whitman echoed across the landscape. Within minutes, the enemy could be seen retreating, hands over their ears. Using hastily constructed catapaults made from unneeded brassiere parts, Kat's Commandos next began lobbing boxes of McDonalds french fries into the enemy's camp. Soon her spotters announced a steady stream of the enemy heading for their latrines, hands over their ears and pants around their ankles... 'Now we've got 'em on the run' yelled Kat triumphantly..... |
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05 Oct 99 - 12:08 PM (#120945) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: Larry B. Barbara: Do you consider Hamburger Helper and other packaged mixes that allow for modifications cooking? LB |
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05 Oct 99 - 01:51 PM (#120974) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: katlaughing Davey: LMAO!!!BIG TIME!!! Barbara...got any copies of those comix?!! I knew the uu didn't look right, but was too lazy to consult the BIG book.:-) And, co-ok? Ya wanna know can they co-ok?? Remember any of the food threads lately?? Or the casual mentions, here and there of what Catspaw, Rick and many of the others have fixed for dinner? And now, I reveal a secret which one of them shared with me. Watch them for any sudden moves! Okay, see.....most of them consider cooking easier to do than cleaning, so they are "Johnnys on the spot" when we mumble or grouse about being hungry, quick to accomodate our palates. They are hoping this will keep them from any dusting, running the vacuum, etc. Course I didn't tell him, we wimmin have always had it planned that way; it is so much easier for us to wave our magic wands and have the domicile sparkling in a twinkle than to pretend to do it all the mortal way with them! Sorry for the interlude...back to the story, oh, Larry B, anything is better than c-rats! If ya can boil water, we'll find a place fer ya! Boadicea lives!!!!! Ahahahaha!!!! |
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05 Oct 99 - 09:24 PM (#121117) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: T in Oklahoma (Okiemockbird) I can hardly wait for the movie version. It's sure to become a cult classic T. |
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05 Oct 99 - 09:44 PM (#121133) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: catspaw49 Yeah, kinda' brings the smell of stale popcorn into the room when you just think about it, doesn't it Tee ? I know Cleigh is really loking forward to the movie...Raisinets anyone? Spaw |
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05 Oct 99 - 10:37 PM (#121156) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: Susan A-R Susan A-R reporting for dudy ma'am. I can certainly infiltrate those awful spelers, and boy could I do a thing or two to their food. Nothing men fear more than VEGETARIAN cooking. Lemme at 'em. A little tofu, bean sprouts and tempeh and they'll be quivering masses of blue green algae. Oh, and I brought a batch of failed biscuits for the anti-tank guns. Don't know anything that pierces armor like whole grain bread gone amiss.
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05 Oct 99 - 10:44 PM (#121160) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: WyoWoman Suddenly, over a rugged hill still smouldering from recent blasts from the flamethrower walks a ragged, stooped man. Exhaustion is in his every step, and his body seems barely held up by his obviously defeated spirit. From his tattered clothing we can tell that he is the enemy, a member of the Taliban we so recently and so soundly defeated. Our rifles are at the ready as he stumbles toward our camp. What harm he could do in this state, no one could say, but out of habit and well-deserved caution, we watch and are ready to back up our suspicions with action at the first sign of aggression. But there is none. His face as he looks around the circle of triumphant women and the men who love them is beseeching and full of agony. "Our women," he croaks. "A terrible epidemic seems to be sweeping through our people and our women and children are sick unto death. We know, by their absence from our lives, how precious they were to us, how they *were* our lives, and we beg you now to come and help us care for them. "Can you find it in your hearts to give us your assistance, for we now know, and they surely know, that it is a woman's touch that made us strong, and it is a woman's touch that will heal them?" Commander Kat stood looking at him for a moment, then her eyes swept the ragtag circle of warrior women surrounding her. "Well," she said .... |
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05 Oct 99 - 10:57 PM (#121168) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: catspaw49 FOOD?!?!?!?! ...SusAR's cookin'??? Hot damn, I knew I'd find a spot in this turkey somewhere!!! Alright!!! In the Rear with the Gear!!! Brought along some Spelt flour here Susan...the ULTIMATE in armor piercing flour.......Say,uh.... Cleigh and I could do with a little Phad Thai while we're loading up munitions for the front..........We'll just be packin..DAMMIT CLEIGH!!! I wish you'd do that somewhere els.....uh,hmmmmm???...possum pellets could be useful..Fill a round with them and it'd be like really vile grape shot.....Alright Cleigh, you're forgiven. Just keep packing the biscuits........and go in that pan over there next time.... Spaw |
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05 Oct 99 - 11:30 PM (#121182) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: katlaughing "By all the gawds and gawddess, if yer lying to us, you will dance in the hells of the nine-tailed donkey's arse for all eternity! Troops! Keep the green recuits together, here. Alright, I want my crack team to fall in, alla youse. Now, here's the plan....."
(Serious interlude....I just finished an editorial on the real situation in Afghanistan for women and the men who support them and democracy. It is horrible beyond belief. If anyone would like to read it, please let me know and I will email it to you, or post it, here or in a new thread, for general info, if everyone would like. Makes no difference to me. It just has a lot of info in it that I feel everyone should be aware of. barring that, any of you who are interested could just visit these two sites: www.amnesty.org or, www.RAWA.org, which stands for Revolutionary Association of Afghanistan Women. Thanks very much, Kat) |
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06 Oct 99 - 02:09 PM (#121368) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: katlaughing "Get the Auxillary in their veils and let's go! Right flank move out first, left will follow, the rest of youse follow me!" As they streamed down the moutainside, the rest of the company made preparations to settle in for the long haul. They stood guard over the prisoner, fed him and gave him water to drink. In the far distance they could hear the advance guard making their way into the village he'd come from. It sounded as though the people of the town were shouting. Looking through their fieldglasses, they could make out a flagpole with a white pair of undergarments flapping in the slight breeze. The could also see thier own troops warily shaking hands and bowing to some official looking citizens. Then they were led away to a large building and could be seen no more. |
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16 Sep 00 - 11:42 AM (#298658) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: T in Oklahoma (Okiemockbird) This is one of my favorite threads. I hope folk don't mind my refreshing it. T. |
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16 Sep 00 - 12:53 PM (#298693) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: Morticia Not at all, best laugh I've had in ages......makes me want to go and shoot something though.Fer Gawdsakes,Gomez,duck!! She's got a pea-shooter and a pack of gummi bears and she ain't afraid to use 'em! |
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16 Sep 00 - 05:37 PM (#298829) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: Bearheart Thanks T. for refreshing this-- way before my time--- Laughing my ass off. I hope someone will keep it going... |
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16 Sep 00 - 06:57 PM (#298879) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: GUEST,Yum Yum, chapter Two Pleeeease.. this is R-E-V-E-L-A-T-I-O-N-A-R-Y!!!!!!!!!!!!! can't sleep, please continue. |
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16 Sep 00 - 08:52 PM (#298955) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: katlaughing Sgt. Kat didn't like the feel of the handshake of that slimey so-called leader. And, she didn't like the way they were all turbaned up, showing only their very dark and threatening eyes. As her troops, what few she brought with her, kept cover behind her, she strode into a huge hall, filled with women lying on poor, thin pallets all along the perimeteres of the walls. Some were moaning, some had a deathly stillness to them, a faraway look in their eyes. "Alright, now, you, Sir, stay here with us," she said as she held the leader in an iron grip, shoving her spiritual pistola in his back. "Send your men out, now, or we leave pronto, with you! She continued in a begrudging manner with a sweeping bow, "By your leave, of course." "Mortee, you, with your spells and herbs, start over there," she pointed to the left, just near the door. "Half of the rest of you, get buckets of clean water, I saw a handpump in the outer room we came through. Start cleaning these women off as best you can and follow Mortee's instructions!" "The rest of you, position yourselves around the room, watch the doors and windows. U.S. Double U, Double U, we have got to shorten that someday, you keep your gun trained on the high Poobah here. He's our ticket outta here and I don't want any tricks, ya hear? Keep 'im alive, but under control, got it? All right! Let's make it quick and get the hell outta here. What have we got?" As she turned to watch Herbal Specialist Speller Mortee reach down to the first woman, she saw a sudden flicker of movement behind her. Spinning around, she saw one of the "women" rise up, rifle in hand. Throwing off a wig and bedclothes, "he" pointed straight at her and started to fire. "It's a trap! Duck and run! U.S.WW!! Keep that bastard close!" Sgt. Kat ran and ducked as she yelled, grouping her people around the Poobah, guarding him, returning fire for fire. It appeared every other "patient" was really a minnion of the Poobah. All of them, including him, ready to die for their cause. |
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17 Sep 00 - 05:01 PM (#299411) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: Morticia Hot damn.....I've got charmed water, herbs and a packet of gummi bears.........oh hang on.......and this 17" bayonet up the leg of me drawers.......now, which son of the prophet called me a sissy witch lady 'cos you're first! Sgt.Kat kept her lock around the neck of the leader...I thought of pointing out he was going a funny colour but, stuff him......hadn't I read that these people thought a leader captured wasn't much of leader anyway....would they care? If not, Kat and the rest of her troops were in deep doo-doo......... |
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17 Sep 00 - 06:40 PM (#299479) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: sophocleese Sophocleese, amongst the chatter and bustle of the home camp, stood guard over the prisoner. She'd seen that he had had decent food and water and a chance, while under heavy guard, to go to the loo. Now he just sat looking a looking worried and tapping out fretful rhythms on the ground between his feet. Hmmm. Maybe, in more peaceful times, he was a musician. Ah, what the hell, she was bored and he needed cheering up she might as well maybe jam with him a little, it couldn't hurt. She pulled her guitar out from behind her and sat down in front of the prisoner. Tentatively she plucked a few strings and saw his expression change to something else, hope? maybe. Emboldened she started playing a song she'd composed ages ago. As usual when she began to play all the sounds of people nearby faded away, they were so sensitive they always left her to commune in peace with her guitar, and she was alone with her music and captive audience. The prisoner seemed somewhat wary so she played another of her songs feeling and knowing that she could somehow reach him this way and make a real connection with him. She would play him everyone of her songs, she had written so many, and then he could teach her one of his. She would show him that she had suffered, most of her songs showed how she had suffered, and that she understood and he wasn't alone and then they would be able to break down the walls of hate and mistrust. He was swaying now with her playing and moaning along with her singing. Now and again his hands would clench and grip each other as if he felt an instrument in his lap. And, clearly, he understood, she was getting through with this latest song, she could tell he felt the same anguish that she had when she'd penned it (she'd never forget the sight of little Algy floating upside down in his goldfish bowl). The prisoner's eyes were wide open now and in desperation for an instrument he was trying to pull up the stake he was chained to. She smiled at him and said, "Its okay, I'm used to playing alone, you can clap along if you wish. I'll play you this one that I wrote when I was upset about an old boyfriend." "No! NO!" the prisoner yelled, "I can't bear it! I'll tell you! I'll tell you. Its a trap down there! There are men dressed as women who are going to kill your commander." Hastily Sophocleese stood up and looked around for others in the camp. Quickly she told them what he had said and they huddled into a circle to figure out their next move. And through all the hasty preparations and worry Sophocleese couldn't help but feel a small glow when she remembered it was the power of her music that had brought about this miraculous change in a prisoner's heart. |
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19 Sep 00 - 09:01 AM (#300585) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: The Walrus at work We can't let this thread die, so, if others will excuse me - Refresh |
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19 Sep 00 - 10:28 AM (#300639) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: Peter T. Meanwhile, very, very far away --- "Mr. President. Mr. President." The insistent voice caught the President unawares rummaging on the floor behind his desk. He instantly bolted upright. "French fry! I was looking for an extra french fry!!! Fell off the plate!! Really!! Nothing else!!!" His secretary smiled wanly. Only a few days to go before the Federal pension clicked in. "Of course, sir. Of course. I have the Chair of the Special Operations Group outside." The President hastily stuffed his snack into a side drawer. "Send him in, Ms. Demeanor". She went out. The President inadvertantly stood up, as he always did when the Chair of Special Operations came in. There was something about him that always made the President feel inferior, like some desk jockey. "You can go right in, sir." Colonel Nick Rick Fury, head of Musicians Under Deep Cover And Thecrethy (M.U.D.C.A.T.), barged through the door as he always did. The President thought, as he always did, that Colonel Rick looked like some battered tank that had found its way into a ladies powder room. "Welcome to the Oval Office, Colonel. I don't know if you have been here before." "Once", growled Rick. "Long ago. Kennedy wanted me to extricate some stupid bastards stuck on a beachhead in Cuba. I told him that if he had asked me, he wouldn't have gotten into such a stupid mess. I told him that the Joint Chiefs of Staff must have been smoking joints that week." The President went slightly pale, but recovered. "Well, Colonel, we are a bit of a mess now as well, and we need your help. " "You don't want me to kidnap that Cuban kid, do you?" "Christ, no. We want you to rescue your sister." Colonel Rick laughed. "Sgt. Kat? You must be kidding. She spent half her life rescuing me. Have you seen those women she tails around with? I mean, Mr. President, it would be like you talking back to your " --- and Colonel Rick stopped himself just in time. The President moved over to a low table. "Here are some reconnaissance pictures taken this morning from satellites over Afghanistan. Your sister, with her Howling Commandos, independently went in some time to bust up the Taliban, and has caused a real stir. " Colonel Rick checked out the craters around the battle site. "Hmm. Looks like she was U.S. Wyowoman with her. God help the cameljockeys. " He moved over to the radio records. "Duckboots. It has Duckboots all over it. These gals will be running the country in about a week, Mr. President." The President frowned. "It's worse than that, Colonel. We understand that among the new recruits is Sophocleese." Colonel Rick smiled grimly. "Jeez, the dead goldfish song!! The Taliban could start sending war crimes allegations to the International Court at the Hague. Poor bastards." The President at last got up enough courage to sit down. "Colonel. The National Security Council is very concerned that if this goes on much longer, the Taliban will approach their friends next door in Pakistan for help, and you know what that means." "A nuke strike?" "Sgt. Kat and her Commandos may be on the verge of starting a regional nuclear war." Colonel Rick chewed on his cigar. "Well, she was always precocious. Spiritually, of course. I would hate to be any nuclear weapon that tried to tangle with her." The President put on his most presidential look, which was difficult, given the little stray ketchup mark on the edge of his cheek. " Look, Colonel Rick, we need M.U.D.C.A.T. to get her out of there. " Colonel Rick looked steely eyed at the President. "Can I have my own men, no questions asked?" The President nodded. "You'll authorize the release from prison of Mmario, the extrication of Lonesome EJ from the rehab clinic, the cancelling of the outstanding library fines against bert, Dave Swan's little indiscretion with the team of oxen and the gorilla suit, and all those beer tabs of Big Mick's?" The President shuddered, and nodded. They looked at each other, mano-a-mano. Both knew what was coming next. "Catspaw. I have to have Catspaw." The President groaned and put his head in his hands. There was a long silence. In the other room, he could hear Janet Reno wondering why she was being kept waiting. He winced, and raised his head, and slowly nodded. For the first time in his Presidency, he began looking forward to long quiet afternoons in his own Presidential Library. Colonel Rick got up, and shook the President's hand. He turned to go, and then said: "Oh, one more thing. Is there any way you could pass a law against playing a G chord the wrong way?" The President shook his head. Colonel Rick shrugged his shoulders. "Had to ask".
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19 Sep 00 - 10:37 AM (#300642) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: GUEST,Mbo_at_ECU While Commander Mbo say on his prototype 1913 Lonestar Roughrider Desert Bike, he smirked as he was about to release THE SWAMP SONG on the unsuspecting denizens of the planet. Heh heh heh. |
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20 Sep 00 - 07:28 AM (#301256) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: Dave the Gnome "REPORTING FOR DUTY SAH!!!" Sgt Kat cooly looked the new recruit up and down. "At ease soldier, no need for the formalities here." "Phew, thank heavens for that" replied Private Davinia the Gnome, releasing her full 40" beer belly from its tentative grip and slowly scratching her beard. "What can I do to help the cause?" "Well...." Kat deliberated "Can you play bohran/bongos/guitar/concertina/accordian (delete as appropriate)?" "No, but I can sink a gallon of Boddies, make stupid remarks, fall over and fart to order" "Hmmm, interesting. I think I could use a double agent. Do you think you could loose the high heels, skirt and make up? Make a worse job of shaving your legs? Grow the beard a bit longer?" "Brrrrp" Belched Davinia. "Reckon so" Kats face beamed with a devious grin. "There is this organisation we have been trying to infiltrate for years. How are you at leaping up and down, waving hankies and jingling bells.....?" (Discalimer: Any resemblance to persons living, dead, or gnomishly masquerading as women is entirely coincidental. Prosecutors will be violated.) |
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20 Sep 00 - 04:19 PM (#301610) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: Morticia Meanwhile, in a small grubby cubbyhole known only to one or two selected agents, a janitor and half the worlds press, the Home Secretary and nameless MI5 agents frowned in perplexity at a tea stained map of the Middle East, torn hastily from a copy of 'A Childs View of The World' "So," said the Home Secretary, "this Morticia character is one of ours,is she? Do we have to admit it?" "Fraid so" replied Agent 70703467321aa123001.....with a rueful shake of her head ,"The Sun already have wind of the story and are interviewing her last seven victims,I mean husbands,her granny and her cleaner even as we speak". " Dammit all" said the venerable Member of Parliament pushing aside his tea cup in distress" This means we're going to have to send in.....the SAS!!" A gasp went round the room." Not....." breathed Agent 3213887200bax1297 "..Not the Songs and Stories Brigade?" |
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20 Sep 00 - 09:13 PM (#301840) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: Naemanson This is TOO Good! Keep it up! |
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21 Sep 00 - 01:51 AM (#302036) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: Lonesome EJ Lonesome EJ had played every game the Neil Young Center had thrown at him in the 18 months he'd been there. He was there as the result of his being declared "Traditionally Unsound" after he had performed Spancil Hill on his harmonica through a Crate amp turned all the way up, at a benefit for the group Hearing-Impaired Vegetarians for Riper Melons.The cards had been stacked against him from the start of the trial,where he had declared his strongest Folk Influences to be Steve Earle,John Popper and Roger Daltry. But this was the toughest treatment so far - 48 consecutive hours of Burl Ives. He found himself longing for the tremolo of Glen Yarborough,a thought that would have been abhorrent to him a few weeks ago. Some of the Peter, Paul and Mary sessions had been rough, The Limelighters Re-education Program had been quite nasty,but as Ives swung into "I want to soar through the air with my rear end on fire like the tail of the Comet Kahoutek",LEJ felt himself nearing the breaking point. It was then the music scratched to a halt,and the padded door swung open. Two Young Center Thugs entered,then stood guard by the open door.Lonesome EJ smelled the cigar before the florid face of Colonel Rick bobbed in."Holy Shit!Did..Did ya liberate the friggin' place,Colonel?" LEJ stammered."No,Cowboy.Just you.Sign the paper and get your stuff." LEJ blinked his eyes.Was it all part of the treatment? Was Colonel Rick going to jump into Oh Danny Boy at the last second? He scanned the agreement that the Colonel held out to him."Iran? Colonel we got no business..." Rick spat a fragment of tobacco at the wall."Your harps are already on the chopper,LEJ." LEJ started to sign,then paused,giving the Colonel a look he seemed to comprehend."Yeah,LEJ,don't sweat it.You'll be amplified.Three 1200 Watt Marshalls and a bullet mike.Loud as ya wanna go." Lonesome EJ scrawled his name."Here's yer paper,Colonel Rick." He turned to the Young Center attendants as he strutted through the door and said in a loud voice "you boys shoulda been at Newport when Dylan pugged in...blew the dust off all of them freakin' folk mummies!"...and then he was gone. |
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21 Sep 00 - 02:29 PM (#302423) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: catspaw49 From somewhere deep down, Catspaw became aware of the gawdawful jangling noise. As it often happened the sound became a part of his dream, a nightmare really. In his sub-conscious, 42 lunatics played "License to Kill" on tiples. Abruptly he awoke trembling. The jangling sounded again and he turned to see it was the phone. At this stage of his life he had to admit that the steady diet of hallucinogens 30 years ago was probably not a good idea, but the Bacardi made the flashbacks bearable. The damn phone kept ringing. Whoever this was, they were serious and the sound was killing him. He looked at the Glock and thought about shooting the phone. It wouldn't have been the first time. again it rang and Catspaw reached over and lifted it to his ear. A voice he knew well, a baritone with a nice edge began speaking rapidly asking who this was. Who do you think it is you dumb bastard? This better be good. Colonel Rick launched into a diatribe that Catspaw tried to follow. Finally he couldn't take it anymore. YO! Colonel! Enough already. Look, before you go on with this, I have a question. The voice on the other end sounded exasperated as it ask what the question was. Yeah, well......What day is this?.........Yeah, okay, now why don't you take it from the top again and try to slow down and make this more coherent huh? After 20 minutes Catspaw had the story. He didn't want it but he had it. It was amazing to him that they would even allow him to be involved after the episode with Chelsea. He knew Sgt.Kat well. In the years before she had been one of his "Angels" and her reputation had grown greatly over time. Catspaw's on the other hand had been shoveled down the gutter through various indiscretions. The Chelsea debacle was bad enough but he had still been acknowledged as the best in the world with explosives and rockets. Then that evening a few years back in the throws of a drunken stupor, he had been jackassing around with his latest stealth missile design with the residue free explosives. He'd never forget it. Long Island had seemed like a good place to play with his toy and he'd launched it never seeing the 747 til it was too late. Okay....I'll do it. But we need the professor. I got an idea and you got Leej already, but the Prof is a must. Catspaw hung up and reached for the pale green bottle. What a mess. It could work though. Maybe. He began to think through the details. Spaw |
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21 Sep 00 - 06:06 PM (#302586) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: Morticia Dear Mother I expect you know from the newspapers that your beloved daughter( I mean me, ma!) and her comrades-in-arms have been captured in a low-down sneaky assault.I am hoping to sneak this letter past the guards tonight because there's one that's really sweet on Wyo.....and she says she doesn't mind compomising her virtue 'cos she isn't sure when she saw it last anyway. They are treating us pretty well on the whole although the food is pretty gross and even worse once Alison and Susan are through doing things to it.They gave us these really gruesome long baggy frock things to wear.....Big Michelle turned hers into a thong with ballistic capabilities.....you should see how far she can chuck a sheeps eyeball! 'Cleese is doing a fine job on keeping up moral with songs and stuff.....when you see what it does to the guards, you can't help but be cheered-up. She had two of them whimpering for their mommies in nothing flat this afternoon......lucky the rest of us took the 'Tiple and Melodeon for Beginners' Course to harden us up a bit. The sarge is pretty sure we can break out of here.....once 'cleese has softened 'em up a bit more and Wyo turns up the charm offensive ( and I don't use that term lightly, let me tell you!).Davinia is doing stuff with morris bells and hankies that even makes my eyes water and I still have a spell or two about my person...and a few ,somewhat sticky, gummi bears....so nil desperado, mother dear......we'll be back in time for tea. love Morticia
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21 Sep 00 - 08:18 PM (#302692) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: WyoWoman From behind the partition where Wyo has coaxed the lusty guard come the muffled sounds of a man and woman doing what men and women have been doing since there were men and women to do it. "Ouch. Shit. When's the last time you shaved?" "ompghf. soioiufih." "I don't think you are sorry. I think you're just saying that so you can get laid..." "Adsldgld. Unhhhhh ..... ooooooh....sdlkfjmgpfffhhh..." "Yes, of course you can make me feel real good Big Daddy... Just ... ouch... good grief! Don't you even OWN an emery board. Your fingernails are like carpet tacks ..." "Awwwwww...." "Oh, my goodness. Are we playing tent already??? You need to slow down you great big hunka burnin' funk ..." Cmmdr.Kat stands like a statue for a moment, her ear pressed close to the flimsy wooden partition. Satisfied, she whispers to the commandos straining to hear the conversation between Wyo and her potentially premature paramour. "Wyo's got it covered. She'll be able to keep him busy for at least long enough for us to .... Shhhh .... what was that?" "umn ... Commander Kat?" a little voice called from the back of the dungeon. "What, Morticia?" Kat hissed, impatient and distracted with her plans. "What's the 'it' Wyo has covered? Do you think she's finally found her virtue? She said she'd be happy to compromise it if she could ever figure out where she left it...." "Oh, Morti ...." Suddenly the women all froze. What was that sound? Well, yes. Of course there was Wyo and that poor dear guard making that breathless throaty sound. But from a distance they could hear the unmistakable sound of .... |
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21 Sep 00 - 08:29 PM (#302699) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: katlaughing Hsssss....splutter....sss'ome in? Over?hsssss...crackle, crackle This twice-cursed, stoopid piece of cra...
Agent 78200982017286198369 here. Can you hear me? I say! No need to get your tits in a ringer, Sgt. Kat! We are rounding up recuits. They will be on their way directly. Do you know your present position, please? Well, I aint' on top! Now, listen you dear sweet angel of Light of all that is True and Right, leave my beauteous globes outta this! Do I know my present position??? Did the tight-arsed bungholes pop for the GPS units I begged for??? We are in bloody rural Afghanistan having the times of our liv..Ouch! Oh no, not aga...! Bop! Bam! Crack! Send help!! Hullo, Kat? Are you there, what happened? Come in, Sgt. Kat. this is Agent 783022796927409987 calling for Sgt. Kat or any other Commandos who may hear this. Come in, please. Over....crackle..hsssssss... I am sorry, Specialist Spaw, we seem to've lost the connection. |
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21 Sep 00 - 10:55 PM (#302770) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: Naemanson In the meantime, in a small town in southern Maine a tourist agent was fast talking Naemanson into what he called the finest of tourist locations. "Afghanistan!" He sighed in envy at the prospect, "Is one of the best places to go at this time of year! The mountains are spectacular, the valleys are beautiful, the dollar is worth a lot more than the, ru.. lir... pes... whatever their currency is!" His eyes lit up, "And the girls! They love Americans!" He leered at the young provincial. "When you get off the plane you'll be mobbed by young beautiful willing women!" Naemanson looked doubtful. "Didn't they have a war or something out there?" He screwed up his face trying to think. "I thought the Russians were oppressing the people or something." "Oh that was years ago, son," The travel agent sneered. "Just sign on the dotted line and you are off for the ride of your life." Five days later Naemanson was more than doubtful as the plane swayed and bucked in the turbulence. He clutched the ring in the ceiling, bracing his feet, and trying not to step in the goat manure that littered the floor. A chicken fluttered by chased by a screaming old woman waving a hatchet. One of the planes four propellors was obviously non functional but the crew did not appear alarmed. One of them approached him with something that looked like a back pack. Despite his protests the began to strap it on his back. When he shouted a question they just pointed at his ticket and then at the floor. Prying his fingers from the ring they herded him towards the open door and out into the bottomless black night.... |
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21 Sep 00 - 11:11 PM (#302780) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: Susan A-R Standing ove3r the soup pot, brandishing her ladle, Private Susan wears a stern, authoritarian expression (suchy as mothers have worn for centuries when admonishing their sons to eat, mangia, etc.) The line of enemy soldiers filing past the steaming pot wear cowed expressions as she ladles heaping bowls of tofu, algae, sprout surprise. As a single voice, accompanied by two halting guitar chords, sings out a plaintive song about a deep love for a tennis shoe salesman, she mutters under her breath God, I hope Spaw gets here soon. I'll make him and Cleigh all of the pad thai they can EAT if they will just get us out of here. Then louder. Young man. Don't you throw that away. Don't you know that there are children staring in. . Before she can finish, he gags down another spoon full, but she swears she can hear him mutter "Ship it to them." She turns back to her soup pot and resumes her prayer. |
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21 Sep 00 - 11:15 PM (#302782) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: Mbo He slooooooowly pulls out his Hohner HOTMETAL...and BWAH WAH WAH WAH WAH WAH WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH WAH! |
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21 Sep 00 - 11:28 PM (#302792) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: Susan A-R As the scream of tortured guitars ripps through the enemy camp, soldiers cower and cover their ears. Without missing a beat, Private Susan feigns startlement, flinging a ladle-full of hot tofu, algae, sprout surprise at the nearest soldier, tipping the entire pot over into the oncoming line, and generally creating confusion, havoc and mayhem. Catching Morticia's eye over the shrieking, flailing soldiers, she winks, then fades into the shadows, working around to thetorage area where she knows she'll find those old rolls and the blunderbuss she has hidden under that case of kidney beans. |
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22 Sep 00 - 06:25 AM (#302894) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: Naemanson Naemanson's surprise when the 'chute pops open startles him out of the shock of being thrown from the plane. As he gently descends through the inky back night he consoles himslf with the thought of all those nubile young women waiting for him at his destination, which he assumes he is drifting towards with every passing second. The drone of the plane is gone leaving him in silence. Overhead the sky is littered with stars. Below is just the dark... except there is a light after all. It is below him and to one side. In tryng to turn to see the light he finds that he can steer the parachute a little and when it turns he finds there are two clusters of lights. "Which one should I go to," he mutters to himself. He doesn't have much time to make his decision. He chooses the closest one and clumsily steers for it and the groups of people he now sees huddled by the fires. "I hope my psaltery hasn't been damaged by all this," he prays as he violently hits the ground...
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22 Sep 00 - 11:35 PM (#303628) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: catspaw49 Catspaw had considered how ill advised this whole venture was as he stared at the phone. He thought for a moment how ill advised his entire life had been. Why should this be any different? He picked up the phone and dialed through the scrambling program. It took a few seconds extra, but it insured privacy. The baritone voice answered sounding tired and strained, demanding to know the caller. Its your Aunt Matilda bacon boy.......Just listen. If you got the Prof and Leej, have them at Guido's tomorrow night..........Yeah I know its a restaurant, I'm using the kitchen after hours.............don't ask, just be there................Look dumbass, if you want to pull this off, just show up with the crew after midnight. In the meantime, grab some costumes.....we want to look look servers..caterers..whatever............Not too flashy though. Get the Prof rigged out in a "Tour Guide" appearance.............Yeah..............Enough with the questions. You're worse than the FBI shrinks that beat me around after the Chelsea business..........BE THERE. Catspaw hung up and again wondered what on earth had happened to everybody. It used to be all he had to do was say it and it happened. Now every mercenary out there questioned his every move. Tlak about your ill advised moves....She was young, he was drunk. What did that have to do with his professionalism? Maybe this would bring him back to where he belonged. He had already gotten the poor sap to do the Afghan Tour. Jimmy said it had been easy to get him to buy off on it. Catspaw wondered what the poor devil thought now. At this point he would have been tossed out over the camp where Sgt.Kat was being held. If he survived, he would be the star player in the breakout. The poor guy didn't have clue at this point and Catspaw only hoped he would still be there to pull this plan off.......the "Party Plan." Catspaw smiled at the brilliance of it. Then the abject terror took over at the implausibility of doing it at all. It was the only chance. A small team could do it. A large force would be a Bay of Pigs. He picked up his bags and headed for the plane waiting at the airport. A quick flight to DC and Guido would pick him up. Maybe he could get some rest tomorrow. After that, there would be no time. Spaw |
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23 Sep 00 - 12:20 AM (#303661) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: katlaughing The floor was hard, cold, littered with offal, the smell of which brought Kat around. Sitting up she gingerly felt her head. Ow! Sorry sons of a sow's bastard! Well, at least there's no blood! Looking around she saw only her guards and beyond, a few of the Commandos grouped together under guard. Catching the eye of one of them, she couldn't quite make out which one...her eyes weren't focussing right, she casually signaled, using the ancient finger codes of the Bitch Goddess, Kali, to whom she fervently prayed. How many are you? How many guards? What happened to USWW and what is that infernal smell? Susan cooking, again? Squinting, she watched her commadre's hands working close to her body, so the dastardly Dawgs of the Taliban wouldn't catch on:There are six of us, ten of them. Susan is making the rest retch. With luck, if you're willing, we can take them. On your signal, Ma'am A sudden stab of pain made Kat grabbed her head. Oh, Kali of All that is virtuous and mighty, give me back my head with NO pain, puhleeeeze! I'll do anything you want!. She signed back to her troops, No, hold off. I think my message got through. BUT, if you get a chance, though, go without me. That is an order! Just before a wave of faintness threatened to lay her out cold, she lowered herself back to the floor, clasped her hands together and began meditating. Letting it take her away on a wave of release, she traveled with the Goddess, flying over the camps, espying the enemy and, strangely enough, some crazed lunatic floating with a parachute. Just as she fell into a state of deep healing and renewal, she thought, That had better NOT be a one and only recruit! Catspaw would never be crazy enough for a stunt like that! |
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23 Sep 00 - 03:44 AM (#303718) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: WyoWoman U.S. Wyo rounded the corner of the partition where she had spent what had turned out to be a couple of hours with the amorous guard. She hadn't meant to fall asleep, but ... once she and the swarthy stranger had found the rhythm of their passionate pas de deux, he turned out to be not half bad -- and oddly familiar. And her diversionary tactic apparently had worked, for Cmmdr. Kat, her Commandos and various hangers-on were nowhere to be seen. USSWW hummed a voluptuous version of "Ain't Nobody Bake a Sweet Jellyroll Like Mine" as she brushed her robe and languidly pulled pieces of straw from her hair. Suddenly, the fog of all that fore and aft-er play began to lift and she gasped slightly as she looked around the ratty dungeon that had held her and her mates. Not only were they gone, there were definite signs of a struggle. Cmmdr. Kat's radio was abandoned in the middle of the floor, Susan's green algae glop had been flung all over the room -- or else a large moose with a bad headcold had been tossing his head around, but Wyo wasn't betting on that option, since there were, to her knowledge, so few moose in Afghanistan -- and there, shiny and looking so out of place in all the dung and straw and moose-snotlike green algae stuff was Mbo's harp. No way he would have just dropped that harp, no matter how hard Susan might have been trying to get him to just take "one little taste..." Plainly, something terrible had happened. And she, she had been rolling around in the throes of diversionary tactics with apparently the only guard still left in the place. As he came around the corner, he was humming a sensuous tune she instantly recognized as ... what WAS that song? And how could a Taliban guard know even one verse of it? He began to whistle unconsciously as he casually walked across the dungeon, carefully rearranging his robes to look as though he HADN'T been so recently succumbing ... to diversionary tactics. He looked up at USWW from underneath his hood. His eyes locked onto hers like a tractor beam from that first, or was it the second Star Wars movie, you know that part where the ... "Why .... why .... " Wyo sputtered. "why ... you aren't a guard at all. You're that famous Mudcateer, whatzizname. Why are you here, and why oh why oh did you let Wyo diVERT you so?" He looked up, smiled and shrugged. "I ...
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23 Sep 00 - 08:29 AM (#303768) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: Naemanson The sparks flew as he landed right in the middle of one of the camp fires. The chute, full of wind dragged him out of it but not before burning logs scattered into the men crowded around the fires. He clutched nervously at his case as the chute dragged him across the compound until it fetched up against the wall. The enclosure was full of confusion with screaming orders and flaring light where people beat at the sparks in their robes. Naemanson struggled with the strps that held him to the parachute when a hand gathered up all the strings and cut them through. That same hand grabbed his arm and pulled him into the alley between two of the buildings. Though the light was uncertain he could just make out the features of the woman(?) who had rescued him. She seemed to have what could only be described as a beer gut. The beard seemed out of place considering how she was dressed. "Davinia the Gnome" she introduced herself. "You got to be careful around here," she said indicating the compound. Naemanson looked out from his shelter to see that the fire had spread to one of the cooking pots. A woman was there trying to put out the fire and at the same time it seemed that she was trying to reassure the men helping her that the food was still good for them. He turned back to Davinia. "Whats..." "Did Spaw send you?" Davinia wasn't looking at him but kept a careful watch on their surroundings. "What, who, is a spaw?" Naemanson was confused but since that was his normal state of mind he found it reassuring. "Damn, I gotta tell Kat or she'll be doing something foolish." Stay right here" And Davinia was gone, moving very quickly and quietly for someone of her(?) size. Naemanson tried ineffectually to get the parachute harness off but it seemed to be stuck. Then he remembered his psaltery. He needed to check that it wasn't damaged. He opened the case and took it out. It seemed OK. He ran the bow over the strings and grinned as the paint peeled back off the wall next to him. Still in tune too! He began a little tune and found it comforted him to hear the familiar strains of music... |
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23 Sep 00 - 10:16 AM (#303795) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: Morticia Dear Ma, well, I said we'd make a break for it and we did, but what an unholy disaster.....Sgt Kat had to be left to behind on account of taking a knock to the head that left her really spooked..( it was kind of hard to tell with her but we guessed when her eyes started going in different directions that she wasn't quite right).Wyo got right into her role,a-compromising of her virtue and then forgot she was supposed to knock him cold and join us......for all I know she's still in there, a-compromising fit to bust. Susan did a grand job with her sprout surprise....the surprise being it didn't have any sprouts in it.......anyway, those poor sods were wretching and trying to protect their ears from Sophocleese's third rendition of 'The Dentist and the Tadpole'.....so we ran for hell for leather, across the compound and over the wall.....Davinia got a few with a well-aimed morris bell and I did things with gummi bears that I suspect are out-lawed by the Geneva Convention but these are desperate times. So then, Mbo realises he's forgotten his harp and back he goes....and 'Cleese and I walk straight into a patrol so back we go......think the rest got rounded up too but it's hard to tell in this light. Looks like your darling little girl ...( me again,mother) might be holed up a little longer than anticipated.Please could you send me a clean pair of jammies, another pack of gummi bears and my second best flame thrower? Your Loving Daughter Morticia |
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23 Sep 00 - 11:29 AM (#303820) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: Peter T. Meanwhile, even further away.... "Sir, although it was before your time, I want to review the fiasco --" He was interrupted by a cold-eyed figure. "Which fiasco? Which of the eternal fiascos am I being asked to review??? I am surrounded by fiascos!!!" "Afghanistan, Sir". "Oh, god of all the Russias. Not more rebels in mountains, please." "Sir, you recall that when you were in East Germany ---" "I remember. I remember that I was able to get a halfdecent suit, and weekends off." "Well, Sir. You will recall how the man known as the Professor talked Gorbachev into undermining Honecker so as to solve the Hungarian border problem -- " "Of course, idiot. We tried to tell Mikhail that it was a trap, but would he listen, no. Twenty four hours later, crash, the Berlin Wall comes down. Why are you telling me my own miserable history? Do you not want to be head of the KGB? Do you want to be transferred to Murmansk?" "No, sir. And we no longer call it the KGB. It is now the Democratic Information Resource Office. Well, some weeks ago, this shadowy figure called the Professor disappeared from his university, on a temporary sabbatical." "You see, weekends off. I try and get a few days off in midAugust and what does it get me?" "Sir, we believe that he went to Afghanistan. His sabbatical plan, which we were able to obtain by various means, speaks of research on a paper called: "Kim's Game: Early Environmental Landscape Narratives on the Northwest Frontier in the 19th Century Struggles between Russia and Britain". We believe that he linked up with an old friend of his, Ali Ali Inkomfree, ruler of the transAfghan heights, and has gone undercover as an unmade bedouin". "Amusing in a quiet sort of way, Dmitri, but as we say in Moscow, we are not on Siberian time, yet." "Ali Inkomfree is both immensely powerful and also romantically insatiable. We believe that he has fallen in love with an entire platoon of women who are battling the Taliban." Vladimir Putin froze. "Do you -- do you -- do you mean?" "Yes, Sir. Sgt. Kat and her Howling Mudcat Commandos." He rose, his face red, screaming: "Why did no one tell me they were in Afghanistan!!!!" The aides scurried around. Dmitri held his position. "They have been captured by the Taliban, but we believe that the Taliban in turn have been infiltrated by Ali Incomfree and the Professor, as well as advance members of Colonel Rick Fury's M.U.D.C.A.T. Tactical Group, who earlier infiltrated the Howling Commandos -- there is a suspicious woman called Big Michelle about whom little is known." Vladimir's eyes softened. He sat back down. "What are we doing about this on our side, Dmitri?" Dmitri launched into a discussion of their own crack group, but Vladimir was already far away. The tinkle of music filled his mind, and he was back in the snowbound mansion, grayblue in deepest winter. A fire crackled, and he could smell the magic whiff of her stogie, and once again he held his beloved Sgt. Kat in his arms. She smiled at him as he went to work, and every once in a while she would comment on the state of the cobwebs on the ceiling. Happy longlost days. The balailaikas tinkled on for a few more seconds.... "And that, Mr. Premier, is what we will do. It will involve the International Space Station, and deceiving the Americans, but we believe we have no choice if the pipeline is not to be destroyed." Vladimir came back to attention. "Thank you, Dmitri, thank you. How long have we got?" "The rest of M.U.D.C.A.T. is being assembled by their leader. Twenty-four hours at most. We believe that Ali Inkomfree is negotiating with the Taliban to buy all the women for his harem, while the Taliban are deciding whether to turn them all into moussaka." "And will Clinton keep his promise?" "No, Mr. Premier. They have persuaded the American President to let them use Catspaw." Putin put his head down in his hands. "He promised me, he promised me, he promised me." He began to weep softly, unconsoleably. The days when a Russian could threaten an American president were over. It was crushing, humiliating. Catspaw. His beloved Sgt. Kat in Afghanistan. It was going to be a long 21st century.
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23 Sep 00 - 01:50 PM (#303892) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: Susan A-R Susan woke with a splitting headache, curled into a fetal position in a dark corner of the compound. Gradually fragments of memory stole back into her bludgeoned mind. First there had been the explosion of the soup pot. Must have been too much annarerobic bacteria in the last batch of blue green algae she'd put in, but no, there had been an amazing sound, like a psaltry, only with buz saw/bag pipe/accordian/tiple overtones, and a bit of nails on a chalkboard thrown in, and the whole pot had roiled up in rebellion. When the mixture had boiled over and hit the fire, well. Mom always said it wouldn't be evenly distributed. She could only thank the goddess that things had bgone in the other direction. molton algae and tofu were too horriffic to think of. Then the entire camp had erupted as Sgt. Kat's commandos had tried making a break for it. Susan had run, slashing left and right with her soup ladle, and had almost made ot to the wall when said wall had collapsed under the strain of the sounds from that horriffic musical instrument, and she had known no more. Now she lay quietly listening, and stealing a careful glance under her out-flung arm to see what was happening. The camp was quite quiet, but there was a muttering and shuffling as a group of enemy soldiers escorted, oh no!, the comandos back through a ragged gap in the wall. Susan huddled in the shadows, thinking about what to do next, when suddenly a voice out of the shadows next to her said . . . |
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23 Sep 00 - 02:26 PM (#303914) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: bbelle GET UP! GET UP! You slovenly wench!! Have you no pride? "This is the voice of reason." Look at you, there, cowering in the shadows. You must fight. Fight with all that you have inside you. And that goes for all of you, who have chosen to cower!!! The "Voice of Reason" goes to each one, individually, giving them her Pepcid AC talk. For that is the secret to power ... Pepcid AC. Eat them like candy (no offense to candy) and you shall draw strength. Strength from the fact that you will no longer have "irritating stomach upset." And when the "Voice of Reason" has whispered into the ear of each, they arise, filled with the confidence and strength to go on ... But, unbeknownst to "Voice," there is a Phantom Lurking in the eaves, who has transformed himself into the asp, made famous by Cleopatria. Phantom Lurking slithers up the walls and around the cornices and ruins. Just as Phantom Lurking is about to strike his note of evil ... |
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23 Sep 00 - 02:57 PM (#303929) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: Naemanson Naemanson, an Uzi submachine gun in each hand, strode through the compound. The enemy poured fire on him from doors and windows but he casually picked them off one by one or in droves. Finally the dust and smoke parted as he defeated the renegade chieftain. The women were free. They crowded around him to congratulate and thank him, pressing up against him to.... Naemanson woke up. Hours must have passed and Davinia had not returned. The compound had once again settled down. Naemanson got to his feet, picked up his psaltery case and walked down to the end of the alley in which he hid. The parachute strings dragged behind him. He peered out to see the results of the night time activities. A wall had collapsed and the green stains around the fire seemed to indicate that something caustic had been splashed liberally around. His stomach grumbled. His parachute was draped over one wall and he could hear sounds coming out from under it. Someone, no, two someones were in there and they were either in pain or having a very good time. He chose not to look. There was no movement that he could see though he assumed someone was keeping watch. He frowned. This was certainly nothing like what the travel agent had promised. His frown deepened. What was it about that travel agent? He shrugged off the thought. He had been promised beautiful valleys, majestic mountains, and lovely willing young women. He was fairly certain there had been no mention of the machine guns and screaming confusion he had seen that night. What to do? As he saw it he could continue to hide or he could find the local office of that travel agency and lodge a firm complaint. From where he stood there was only one door that looked official. Taking a deep breath he stepped out of the alley... |
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23 Sep 00 - 03:31 PM (#303946) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: bbelle And into the Travel Agency of Psychoses and Strange. Our motto ... We Take No Prisoners. The Head Psycho looked up and Naemonson could see only one eye peering at him. The other eye was checking his hair for nits. Naemonson, obviously distraught at this invasion of privacy cries out "What, in the name of all the rocks on the shore, are ye doin?" Head Psycho says in a wry, scratchy voice "Why I'm checking for nits, nitswits, that is. Ye gotta have nitswits for brains to walk through our door." Then Head Psycho whispers down low in his wry, scratchy voice "But ya ain't got any." Ah, thinks Naemonson, I'm FREE AT LAST, FREE AT LAST! He feels safe. Until Head Psycho whirls around in his chair (actually he whirls around a bunch of times and gets that really goofy, dizzy look of the confused) and laughs in a voice that Naemonson has heard recently and cries out, "Man, if ye ain't got no nitswits, ye ain't got no brains, either." Naemonson opens the door to the alley, looks both ways for safety and what to his wonderin' eyes should appear, but ... |
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23 Sep 00 - 09:39 PM (#304143) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: Susan A-R A miniature cleigh possum, whistling his way along the alley with a small blunderbus under his arm. The possum whistled cheerfully, occasionally shooting what appeared to be armour piercing possum pellets through the walls on either side of the alley./ His little whixkered face was wrinkled in concentration and he barely noticed when the man behind him yelled Jeysus Cleigh, would you stop that whistling. . . |
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23 Sep 00 - 10:30 PM (#304167) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: Tinker On the other side of camp...
Oh, What happened….? Pssslgggh!!! Sand? |
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24 Sep 00 - 12:00 AM (#304193) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: mousethief "Yes, I know my name is Alex, and I know I go to a church that was founded by Russian immigrants. But I'm not Russian and I don't speak a word of Russian, except for 'Gospodi, pomilui.'" The president looked up at the tall man whom some call Agent Mousethief, but he did not smile. "What does 'Gospodi, pomilui' mean?" "'Lord have mercy,'" said Agent Mouse. "Perfect," said the president. "Because you'll need a lot of that where you're going. You do own a parachute, right?" "No, I don't own no stupid parachute. I'm a computer programmer at Boeing Spares. I help sell airplane parts. I don't jump out of the damned things." "There's time to learn, agent, time to learn. From 30,000 feet, at 30 feet per second per second. You do the math." Within hours, Agent Mousethief was on the aging Aeroflot plane, whining and lurching over the North Pacific, headed for Moscow. "Well, I've always wanted to go to Russia," he mused to himself, "but rather as a pilgrim than a spy." "Shpy now, peelgreem laytair," said his interpreter, a short man named Boris with a waxed mustache out of which small bits of borsch kept falling. Suddenly the plane lurched violently to the left, or port, if you're facing foreward, but it's on your right if you're facing aft, and that's why we use words like "port" and "starboard" and not "left" and "right" so everyone knows which side of the ship -- or in this case plane -- you're talking about. Agent Mousethief sadly thought about what his instructor in English 181 back at the University of Washington told him about too many explanatory parentheticals in his prose. But that was a long time ago, and didn't seem to apply to the deadly situation he found himself in. The door to the cockpit was jarred open by the violence of the plane's motion, and banged against the bulkhead, revealing ... empty seats. The cockpit was empty. The pilot had bailed out over Newfoundland. "I've never flown a plane before," admitted Agent MT. "Me too," said Boris. "Do you own a parachute?" the veteran spy asked. "Da," said Boris, lapsing back into his native tongue. Three beet cubes and a bit of stringy carrot fell onto it, and he sucked it back into his mouth. "Then now's the time to use it," yelled Agent Mousethief, as he kicked the door open and jumped into the blackness of the night. "On second thought, I have flown a plane before, and I hate parachuting," said Boris in flawless English, as he closed the cabin door and casually strode up to the cockpit. Meanwhile, Agent M was drifting slowly towards the North Atlantic, when he fell through a hole in the space-time continuum and landed directly in the middle of a pile of horrific green goo which looked like the exploded remains of a vegetarian stew even HE wouldn't eat, even during Lent. As a band of grim-faced men in funny hats closed in around him, he regretted but one thing. He should have held out for the $100 per diem.
O..O |
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24 Sep 00 - 08:38 AM (#304322) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: Naemanson Naemanson was once again in that comforting state of confusion. "Forget about the girls!" he muttered to himself, "You're in trouble here." He sat down in the alley and shook his head. "I'm obviously having hallucinations when I'm seeing a cleigh possum with a blunderbuss." Still the sight jarred a memory fragment loose and it floated on the pool of his consciousness like a blob of scum. Where had he seen a cleigh possum before? Suddenly it hit him. Spaw! That rat bastard he had known so many years ago used to hang out with a cleigh possum. It was rumored they were so much more than just friends! It was also rumored that Spaw worked for the CIA or the FBI or some such government agency. "From what I knew of him and the possum he could have been working for the ASPCA providing love lessons." Still, Naemanson admitted to himself, when the chips were down so was Spaw. But there was no one better to have on your side. "Wish he was here," he muttered. "At least he'd be able to get this parachute harness off of me." He staggered to his feet and drew his psaltery. There was only one way to deal with an hallucination and that was fight fire with fire. He set bow to strings, turned his back on the cleigh possum and marched out into the compound playing a lively march tune.... |
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25 Sep 00 - 09:37 AM (#304955) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: Dave the Gnome Davinia, seeing Naemanson marching out in an apparant daze, stuck her(?) face around the corner of the alley she had last been seen capering down. "Mmmmm" she pondered, "What might Spaw be playing at? Plenty of silk here to make the hankies but no bells (belles?). And why send an agent with no idea what is going on?" Shruging her shoulders she began to cut 12" squares from the parachute material. A tingle down her spine made her dive for cover just as the sword whistled above her head. Rolling heavily to the left she leapt up and flicked both hankies into the face of her assailant. He fell heavily but she then saw the rest of them... Five other sword wielding assasins in colourful costume stopped their deadly dance of death as the strains of wheezy instrument fell into silence. The looked dumbstruck and then, one by one, they fell to their knees. "Oh forgive us , great one. We did not know that you were the prophesised holy one." Davinia kept quiet but her mind was racing Whistling "Jockey to the fair" Davinia skipped back down the alley, this time followed by five awestruck devotees who had substituted their swords with more silk hankies cut from the parachute silk..... Was this the mission Kat had planned or was she falling into a sub plot unleashed by a devious enemy? Who was the enemy? The Afgans? The Russians? The Morris Ring??? If she could just use her new powers to find out and infiltrate the inner sanctum there may just be some hope....
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25 Sep 00 - 10:03 AM (#304968) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: MMario MMario de TerraChat bowed as he was presented to Her Majesty, the plumes of his hat sweeping the tiled castle floor. He signaled to the court musicians to start the music for his grand musical ode; but instead of the strains of sackbut and virginal he heard instead a rough voice: d*mn your hide, MMario! Snap out of it man! Sgt. Kat and her commandos need your help and you aren't getting out of it by retreating into delusion. Max blast you! If you don't snap out of it I'm having your caffiene ration cut! |
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25 Sep 00 - 01:38 PM (#305128) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: Little Hawk Little Hawk here, volunteering for duty. You definitely could use an Indian scout. Not that I don't have grave reservations (no pun intended) about allying myself with any branch of the US military...I still have distinct memories of Sand Creek...the blue-coated bastards, murdering, raping, and pillaging...and of Wounded Knee, and a thousand other shameful occasions... However, Kat's Commandos are mainly women, and that gives me some confidence. It was not the women who persecuted us. Plus, I am willing to help anyone against those damned Taliban fanatics...may they rot. The scene: Little Hawk crept silently to the edge of a jagged, rocky ridge. There was no one to be seen, but he had a distinct feeling that the enemy was near. His soft mocassins and buckskins were perfectly suited for stealth, and he carried only a bow, a quiver of arrows, a mirror for signalling, a skinning knife, and a medicine bag around his neck. In the medicine bag were certain sacred objects...a little stone from the Black Hills, a lock of hair from Little Crow Woman, some tobacco and Sage, a tie of sweetgrass, and a card entitled "Little Miracles". If you opened the card, it read inside..."Each person represents a world in us, a world possibly not born until they arrive, and it is only by our meeting that a new world is born." - Anais Nin Now ensconced securely in a shadowed nook at the peak of the Ridge, where he could take in the entire Eastern approach, Little Hawk considered those words once again. Indeed, the women were the heartbeat of the nation, and the teachers of compassion. It was almost beyond comprehension what these wretched Taliban fanatics were doing to their own women. And yet, one must respect his enemy. Hate the evil that is perpetrated, but hate not the perpertrator, because he no doubt imagines that he is defending what is normal, proper, and even sacred in his own terms. So he would respect the Taliban fighters...and he would kill them...until their women were free. Does the fight against oppression ever end? Not on this Earth plane, this sacred place of the four directions, because it has been provided that we might have a chance as wandering spirits to put all our great theories to test in the crucible of physical experience. Oh ye gods and spirits...how far you have journeyed from the unity of the One into these dramatic and tragic realms of limitation...and yet how beautiful a realm it is. Little Hawk's musings were interrupted by a faint glimmer of light that flickered for a moment in the first beams of dawn. It was the sun glancing off metal. A moment later he heard the sound of boots scraping on stone, and he saw them. A whole column of them, making their way up the slope. Taliban. First, the signal. Moving to the rear of the ridgline, Little Hawk flashed three bright flashes with the mirror to Kat's commandos back in the village. They were no doubt still recovering from their celebratory excesses of the night before. Typical yanks! Hopefully their hangovers would not ruin their marksmanship. In any case, thought Little Hawk, with the amount of firepower that they customarily carried, they could hardly miss. He grinned at the though of it. In Vietnam so much ordinance had been expended that it cost upwards of $50,000 (in the money of the late 60's!) to kill each Viet Cong. They could have just paid them all not to fight, instead, he though wryly, and there would have been no war. But that would have been too easy, and it wouldn't have sold any weapons, would it? When my people found the paper money on Custer's men, he thought further, we used if for what it was really good for...starting fires, and making little folded fans and toys for the children. What a foolish people, to worship little pieces of paper...and then there was their constant addiction to pointless swearing and various macho demonstrations of that sort...very immature behaviour... But here were coming the Taliban. Time to delay them. Little Hawk crept back to his former postion, calmy fitted an arrow and let it go, exhaling as he did so. He sent a spirit hawk to guide it. The arrown ghosted down in almost complete silence, just a tiny hiss of air, and took the first climber in the heart. He went down with a shriek of dismay, as Little Hawk vanished behind a boulder. All hell broke loose. The Taliban were firing wildly at the entire ridge line with everything they had. If the mirror signal had not been seen, it hardly mattered now. It was really an amazing amount of noise...enough to wake the dead in Peshawar, in all probability, thought Little Hawk. Not that the dead needed waking...they are in general more alive than the living, particularly if the living are to be found in the suburbs of Los Angeles or places like Mimico... These silly Taliban are far too reliant on heavy firepower as well, thought Little Hawk. Time to show them the value of simplicity. He took up a new position. Fire was slackening now. He could faintly hear someone yelling orders to the West. Kat's Commandos must be on the move. The Taliban were moving forward warily. Little Hawk fired two more arrows and nailed two more of them, ducking out of sight even as the arrows struck home. The Afghans uttered cries of rage and astonishment, not having expected an assault by such ancient weapons. They surged forward in a concerted charge, making for the ridge line. They do not lack courage, thought Little Hawk. Indeed, they thirst for a warrior's death in their chosen paradise. So much the better. It was time to abandon his postion, but he took out two more of his opponents before doing so, and then ran like the wind down the reverse slope, dodging northward all the while, to take up a new postion and hopefully flank them from there. Just like Crazy Horse did to Crook at the Rosebud, bleeding them from ridge to ridge, until they finally lost heart and took the long and weary trail back home. Ah, hah! Here were Kat's commandos, forming up on the following rise. Every kind of firepower imaginable did they have ready to hand, and their red-rimmed, slightly psychotic eyes were glaring across the void, fingers ready on oiled triggers. Little Hawk whooped to them gaily, and gestured to the East. God help the wretched Taliban. |
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25 Sep 00 - 04:35 PM (#305219) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: GUEST,GUEST, Little Crow Woman Hi, sweetheart!
I decided to come along.
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25 Sep 00 - 05:34 PM (#305252) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: Peter T. Ali Ali Inkomfree sat down on his throne, and clapped his hands. Within a few moments, the real Sgt. Kat and her Mudcat Commandos entered the exotic room. They had all been washed in milk baths and perfumed and clothed in fine silks which revealed many of their spiritual assets. Ali gestured for them all to sit down on the extensive divans he had prepared for each of them, covered with patterns of peacock feathers, and trimmed in gold. Bowls of chocolate and fruit lay within easy reach. Roses were strewn everywhere. "Welcome, welcome, Howling Commandos, and especially your exquisite leader," he said. "I hope that your ordeal has not tamed that fighting spirit for which you are so widely renowned. It was with some reluctance -- since I have long wished to witness your prowess on the battlefield as well as on other fields of endeavour -- that the maddened horde of my people rushed down upon your attackers, following the strange myriad signals and forms -- arrows, harmonicas, small possum like creatures, and so on -- that seem to follow you around like dogs following a caravan. It was dangerous, but we were able to rout your foes. It was necessary to -- um, how shall I put it -- protect my investment." "You disgusting scum-sucking fiend," said Sgt. Kat, at her most exquisite. "Please, Sarge -- may I call you Sarge? -- I have always been delighted by the name Sarge, from my days at Harvard reading comic books when I should have been studying -- I should be wary of who you refer to as "scum-sucking" given the delicacies that your Susan has been inflicting on your Taliban captors. Many of them have already handed themselves over to Medecins Sans Frontieres in various pitiful states of disarray." "You remind me of someone I once knew who longed for love," interjected sophocleese. "There was a song ---" Before she could continue, a silken handkerchief was gently whipped around her mouth by one of the attendants, who, as was suddenly noticed by the hitherto slightly confused commandos, was a strapping Afghan lad with a striking resemblance to the young Omar Sharif. Ali smiled. He was somewhat Omar Shariflike himself. "I apologise for our rough methods. We are barbarians of course. Perhaps some other time for one of your enchanting melodies. In the meantime, it should be of some comfort to know that you are no longer prisoners of the Taliban army, but guests of mine." "Prisoners, you mean!" piped up Morticia. "You are going to have your way with us!! You have bought us like trinkets, baubles, bangles, bright shiny beads, ting-a-linga. We are to be white slaves!!!!" "Ah?" said Ali. "The beauteous, if somewhat naive, Morticia. May I tell you what a pleasure it is to have such a storyteller amongst us, we have been reading your intercepted letters with unalloyed pleasure? A veritable Sheherazade. I look forward to some bedtime stories." "This won't last," vowed the swarthy Big Michelle. "We have a clique, a gang, an in group, a secret network of those who I am sure are already flying to our aid, including the FAIR ONE (rainbow caps), the elusive Mmario (no spaces) and the great bert ( all lower case)!!!! The great Afghan chieftain looked even more bemused. "Ladies, you have turned many heads already, included a number of heads of state. I have already had a number of substantial bids for you already this morning, as well as various knick knacks. " He reached over to a low table nearby. "This little cassette recorder, that plays 'Lara's Theme' was sent by the Premier of Russia." He gestured towards a large heap of objects and letters in a corner -- "A Mr. Sean Connery has sent a personal note to me declaring and witnessing to the fact that certain of you ladies are Scottish National Treasures, in substantive, and may I say, mouth-watering detail. The President of the United States has authorised the deployment away from American soil of something known as Catspaw, some terrifying new weapon, I assume. The head of the International Olympic Committee, Mr. Samaranch, has telegraphed to me his understanding that U.S. Wyowoman was currently exploring a range of possible new Olympic events that appear to be, if not televiseable to a mass audience, certainly, er, pathbreaking. He says that he speaks on behalf of the entire Olympic movement, and especially a group he refers to as "That Crazy Bunch of Fact-Finding Guys from the Penthouse in Salt Lake City. So you are not without admirers, among whom, naturally enough, I count myself." "Wait till Rick Fury, gets here, you demon in burnoose!" chimed in Davinia, which made the new set of ankle bells she had on tinkle, which intrigued and somewhat distracted her. Ali shrugged. "I hope they are more of a force to be reckoned with that that ragtag collection they have sent to rescue you from "a fate worse than death" so far. A lost tourist, a young bewildered man with a dry harmonica, what appears to be someone out of a wildwest show, and a variety of others. The Taliban have taken them all away to the Neil Diamond Dungeon of Terror. We shall probably not see them again for awhile. We await Colonel Fury with amusement." He clapped his hands. A number of doors opened, and a substantial banquet was rolled forward. "Ladies, in the meantime, some Eastern hospitality. First some delicacies, and then --" He clapped his hands again. "In my realm, we operate according to what you in the West so amusingly call, "the buddy system." Out from behind the mounds of food now stepped some extraordinarily agile and darkly handsome young men, wearing flowing white silken robes, edged in purple. It was again noticieable that they cut from the same mould as the darkly handsome gentleman who had gently stifled sophocleese's musical stirrings. "Each of you howling commandos has been assigned a buddy, who will, how shall I put this? attend to your every want, they are remarkably attentive, so that you will perhaps warm to me as time goes on." "This is beyond disgusting, " cried Morticia. "This is morally degrading, this is worse than weapons of war, you fiend, we will have nothing to do with this, this sordid spectacle, this attempt to undermine our womanly solidarity -- how little you know of our strength, you swine, Oh, how you underestimate our fortitude, our resolute ---!!!!" At this point Sgt. Kat tugged on her sleeve and gave the secret commando huddle signal. "Excuse us for a second, will you, fiend?" asked Sgt. Kat. Ali, the fiend, smiled: "Of course, Howling Mudcat Commandos. Take your time. Lunch can wait. " The Howling Commandos went off into a corner, taking a couple of grapes and some bars of chocolate with them as a temporary snack, and began to discuss this latest and most disconcerting train of events....
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25 Sep 00 - 05:52 PM (#305265) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: Peter T. {Sorry, Sir Sean Connery. yours, Peter T.} |
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25 Sep 00 - 06:33 PM (#305300) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: Morticia Dear Mother, well you will not believe what has happened now.After a cunning subterfuge in which people dressed like the Mudcat Commandoes lured the rescue parties out into the desert,we were rounded up and brought to some sort of boodoire, with fancy hangings and chocolate and all kinds of good stuff. Only problem is,I think they want our ....well, you remember what the Little Sisters of the Demented and Irrational said about my innocence? How a psychotic and homicidal little hellbat could remain so mysteriously untouched by anything even remotely resembling real life and wasn't it a miracle? I think I'm about to be de-miracled. You will be proud to hear that I said we should die rather than surrender our honour but Wyo said "Not so fast small fry", and she thinks she left her honour with her virtue ( on a train somewhere,she thinks) and even the Sarge was saying that they were kind of cute and all. Davinia was on my side until she saw all the silk hangings and little bells and then she got that funny look in her eye and started capering and stuff,Susan has started exhanging recipes involving curds ( or was it Kurds?),.......and well,forget about sending the clean jammies ...I don't think I'm going to need them. I remain your dutiful .... Morticia |
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25 Sep 00 - 06:40 PM (#305307) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: GUEST,Little Crow Woman How did I get here? Through the Door at the Crack at the Edge of the Universe, of course! Little Hawk! I heard what just happened! We must rescue those women from Ali the Fiend! I will brew up my extra-sleepy tea, and we must put a few drops in all the likker at Ali's Lair. Shift to Hawk form for this, no-one knows about that "skill" of yours... and mine... |
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25 Sep 00 - 06:44 PM (#305312) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: Naemanson It was dark in the cell. He knew there were others in there with him but he couldn't see how many and he had no idea who they were. He only knew that the parachute harness was starting to chafe him in places he'd rather not have chafed. He felt his way across the cell, occasionally stumbling over another prisoner. His head hurt, not from the blow that felled him but from the sound coming from the speakers in the walls. This would be the fifteenth replaying of Song Sung Blue. Following that would be Cracklin Rosie. He didn't think he could stand it much longer. He reached to door to the cell and peered out into the hallway. There was a switch on the wall just out of reach. He pulled up one of the dragging parachute strings and tied his mechanical pencil to it. After several attempts the pencil hit the switch and the overhead bulbs came on. They were only forty watt bulbs but after the darkness the light hurt his eyes. He turned to see the others looking at him. He shrugged. "It seemed like the thing to do," he muttered. One of the prisoners looked for all the world like an Indian. He uncoiled from the lotus position he had assumed and strode silently forward. He studied the hall. "I see they have piled our belongings in that other cell." He commented calmly. Naemanson stared at him. It was as if the strains of Cracklin Rosie were having no effect on him. He looked around. The possum was here slowly and calmly beating his head against the floor. If only we could get the door open said a third person. Naemanson and the Indian turned to look at him. They saw a slight young man dressed in grey. He moved as though each step was a dance. They watched him as he studied the problem and Naemanson thought he heard him mutter something about someone called Fafhrd. The others introduced themselves as Little Hawk and Mousethief. They looked at the possum and Naemanson said, "I think his name is Cleigh." "Well," said Naemanson, "if we are going to ever get out of here we have to work together." He looked at them. "If we can get to our stuff we have a chance. How are we going to get this door open?" Mousethief studied the lock for a minute and then pulled some tools from a secret compartment in the heal of his shoe. He began to work on the lock. Cleigh got bored with beating his head on the floor, stepped between the bars, and wandered off down the hall. He reached the end and turned around pacing back down to the other end. The other prisoners stared at him. "Hey, Cleigh!" Little Hawk called softly, "Can at least see if you can find the keys or bring us some of our stuff?" The possum studied the prblem and said, "Gee guys, it ain't too easy frum heer. I cain't get into thet room cuz the dore is lokd." "But you can just walk between the bars!" Naemanson called, fighting his frustration. "Yep!," said Cleigh, "and then whut? I'm lokd in t'other room!" Suddenly there was a click and Mousethief gave a satisfied grunt. The door swung open. He glided across to the other door and got to work.Naemanson took up a position on one end of the hall and Little Hawk strode to the other. Suddenly Naemanson heard the unmistakable sounds of approaching feet. He turned desperately to see Mousethief swing the door open. Naemanson and Little Hawk sprinted down and in to the room. As Little Hawk scooped up his quiver and bow Naemanson grabbed his psaltery case. "There isn't time for that," Mousethief muttered. Naemanson ignored him as he drew the psaltery from the case and then reach in and clipped a bulbous object underneath it. He was feeling in his pockets as he explained to his companions. "This isn't just a regular bowed psaltery. This was built by one of the master crafters. The attachment is an amplifier which makes this an a-psaltery weapon. And with this, "he held up a small copper topped cylinder, "I can commit a-psaltery and battery! Let's go…" |
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25 Sep 00 - 06:55 PM (#305321) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: katlaughing mumble, mumble...Ouch, damn it, this stupid veil! Alright wimmin, here's the way I see it. They're men, right? And, we all know what men want, right? We will dazzle them with a few teases; spin them round with a few twists and twirls; get them all hot and bothered, let them think they are gonna get "it", THEN, we'll go for their throats. Remember the Magic Plastic Fingernail Activator? You either bite down on it, releasing the cyanide so yer lips are sealed forever, OR, you pierce the enemy's throat with it. Sweet release for them and you get yer arse outta there! Alright, whadda ya say? Hut, 2,3, 4, GO! Heya, Ali, darlin'...this is Godiva chocolate, isn't it? How did you know it was my favourite? C'mere, sweetie. It's been a long, long time.... As Kat worked her wiles with Ali Inkomfree, the rest of her crew spread out with the various boy-toy cum guards...glimpses of beauteous flesh, rippling muscles flashing in the flickering light of braziers fragrant with exotic scents....
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25 Sep 00 - 07:18 PM (#305335) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: Mbo pssssssst....over here! whispered a voice. Mbo could see Naemanson, Mousethief, Little Hawk & Cleigh making their way down the dark hall. Over here! he whispered again. In a dark corner of the hall, there was a single sewer grate. The escapees could see something small reflecting a tiny pinpoint of light at them. They made their way towards it. As they reached the corner, they could see a hand reaching up through the grate. It had a Hohner HotMetal "G" harmonica grasped in it. Silently, Mbo lifted the grate. C'mon, down here. There are sewers that run underneath this compound. That's how I got in. I'm Special Agent Mbo, and I was sent here to rescued you by the World Anti Male-Bashing Association (WAMBA), on orders from President Si Kahn himself. Be as quiet as possible and slip down here. We we reach the outside, I have a couple Lonestar Roughrider Dustbikes waiting. Nothin' can out run 'em. Not even the minions of Kat herself.. One by one, they each silently lowered themselves down the short shaft and into the sewer. When Little Hawk at last dropped down, as quiet as a mouse (not a mousethief) replaced the grate. And so he led them through the labyrinthine sewers, reeking of cheap perfume. The time has almost come. he whispered to the desperate men behind him. When THE SWAMP SONG will be released upon the world. And President Kahn thinks you four are the best suited for this immense task... |
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25 Sep 00 - 07:41 PM (#305353) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: Naemanson The boy was obviously addled. Everyone knew that there wasn't a motorcycle made that was better than a 1972 Triumph Trohy Trail. Except maybe a 1952 Black Vincent but that was another song. Still he'd got them this far so he must know what he was doing. The talk about the swamp song was definitely some kind of code. Naemanson wanted to talk to the mouser, uh, the mousethief about this but didn't dare so he followed silently.... |
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26 Sep 00 - 12:44 AM (#305590) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: mousethief Suddenly, they heard the one thing they most feared: voices. Small, pipey voices, coming down the sewer pipe. The four men and one possum stood as still as stone, listening. Slowly the voices grew louder, and clearer. Eventually they could make out what the voices were saying. "Foist we goes t' our hidey-hole, and we has a little nap, den we go back d' da palace ta collect da scraps. Dass what Oi thinks we's should do." "Ah, R.J., you wouldn't know how ta think if ya loif depended on it. Rememba who's in chahge heah. We go to da palace now. It'll take us a long toim ta get deh, since somebody went and lost us ouah skateboa'd." "Who done dat?" asked R.J. "Youse did, you idjit! Geez, if you woin't my bruddah, I'd trade you in for somebuddy smahta." "Don' say dat, A.J. Remembah what owwer mudder-" "God rest ha soul," interjected A.J. "... said. You'se gotta take good care o' me." "And I will, ya lunkhead. You'se da stupidest rat in all da woild, dough." "I knows, A.J., I knows." "They're rats," Mousethief mouthed to Naemanson, who could just barely make him out in the faint light from a sewer grate not far away. "Talking rats," mouthed Naemanson. "Amazing!" mouthed Mousethief. Suddenly the talking rats turned a corner in the sewer, and practically ran into the rescue squad. "What ah youse guys doin' he-ya?" yelped the smaller of the two rats, who was apparently (to judge by the voice) the one called "A.J." "Escaping," said Mbo. "Which we'll be happy to get back to if you don't mind." "Now what wudd a bunch of noice goys like youse be doin' in a nasty ol' prison loik dis?" A.J. asked. "That's for us to know, and you NOT to find out," said Mbo, still not quite used to the idea of talking to a rat. "This is like some weird Disney movie or something," he thought to himself. "This is nuttin' loik no Disney movie, Mbo," said A.J. "Hey! You copped my thoughts!" exclaimed Mbo. "It's not loik it was haaahd or nuttin'" said A.J. "Youse got psychic enahgee spillin' all ovah dis place." "And yet you didn't know we were here until you turned the corner," Mbo shrewdly pointed out. "Psychic enahgee don't toin cornahs too good," observed A.J. "Hmm," said Mbo, pausing to think about this. "Well, ah we goin' to dose mudboiks uv yoahs, or ain't we?" asked A.J. "I'm int'rested in seein' what koind a speed we can get on dose babies, and I'm t'inkin' youse might could use a psychic rat wit' youse in yoh rescue attempt, no?" "Just one question," said Little Hawk. "Shoot," said A.J. "What kind of accent is that? It's like half Boston and half Brooklyn, with a little mid-South thrown in for good measure." "Oh, you'se a woise goy, ain'tcha? If youse wants ta know, my mudda-" "God rest ha soul" interrupted R.J. "... was frum Brooklyn, and my Fadder-" "Coise him!" interjected R.J. "... was from Boston. Happy?" "Delerious," said Little Hawk. "Now let's get out of here." "Glad to oblige," said A.J. "Follow me," said Mbo. The four men, two rats, and one possum fell into line, and slowly trudged forward through the raw sewage, following Mbo into they knew not what.
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26 Sep 00 - 09:17 PM (#306201) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: GUEST,Little Crow Woman *Ok, Little Hawk, I see you're busy right now. How about I go put the sleep potion in that likker, and you take it from your end, ok?* - She thought to him. Changing into Crow form, she flew with her potion clutched in her claws, and disappeared into the sky... |
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27 Sep 00 - 04:06 AM (#306379) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: Dave the Gnome "Hrmfgh Blurrrrrl Grrrrng" muttered Davinia from her position on the floor with her nose stuck in some sort of grating. If only those fiends hadn't brought out the Finkles old Knacker Wurdler scrumpy she might have been able to pass some vital information on to her collegues. Right now she wasn't even sure of what she was seeing. There seemed to be a sewer tunnel stretching away into the distance below the grate. She could distincly hear the voices but could she realy believe what she was seeing? After all talking rats were not something you saw every day. And who were they talking to? Odd images flashed from her past. Sewers, talking rats, now what else... Surely not ... no... not a Ninja Turtle rescue party??? The shock was too much and combined with the old Knacker Wurdler Davinias senses reeled, followed by the room as she finaly passed into gentle oblivion... |
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27 Sep 00 - 09:35 PM (#307016) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: Susan A-R "Oh My, but you do make a mean Baba Ganoush baby." Susan cooed to the strong, dark, stranger who had settled across from her on the elegant rug. "I bet your tagine is really something. Now I personally love those briouats myself, all of that butter, powdered sugar, flaky pastry and meat. Mmmm." She ran her tongue delicately over her lips, and the man across from her trembled. Susan desparately hoped that her line of chatter had covered the sounds she was hearing, seemingly from right under her classy divan. If she didn't know better, she'd swear it was that fellow tuning up for another apsalt. She hoped he'd either be quick about it, or . . . but wait! What was happening in the corner with the screen, the powder room, was it? Then all doubt was washed away (so to speak) when there came a loud crash, and chunks of broken porcelein rolled out from under the screen, immediately followed by yells, whoops, harmonica wails, and the blast of the psaltery. Her wiles must have been more powerful than she thought, for it took a moment for her "buddy" to catch onto the situation. With a quick flick of the wrist, susan sent her baba into his eyes, and followed up with a lashing kick as she whilred to see what her commander would require of her. |
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27 Sep 00 - 10:05 PM (#307040) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: katlaughing "Every womon for herself! Activate your Fingernail! To their eyes! To their eyes!" Kat howled out the command. "Meet up at the second corner turn, after the left-handed organ-grinder's third setup corner, near the Shop of Veils where the old shoes have herbs planted in them! Go, now! Aaaaaiiiiieeeeee, hah!" And, with that, she struck Ali Inkomfree across the face, slashing his eyes with her Plastic Magic Fingernail Activator, leaving a trail of deadly poison near his eyes. Or was it poisonous? she thought to herself. It was supposed to be like those frogs, one touch and lights out, so why am I still fighting with the guy?!! And, WHO in the gawddess's name come up out of that toilet??!! This would be a fine time for a certain brother and troops to show up. Oh gawddess! Oh gaaawwwwdddeesss!!! Anyday now! And, with that she gave an extra kick and block with her lightening flashing hands like steel knocking Ali down. Stepping over him, she ran towards the nearest door. Women were everywhere, fighting, biting, running, it looked like they had the upper hand. She almost tripped over some huge kind of rat that actually spoke to her. Spoke?? She could only hope they all made it to the rendevous point....as she gained the doorway, she looked out to see a full moon brightening the courtyard, shadows seemed to move about in the darker reaches...shadows with a sinister look to them.... |
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28 Sep 00 - 01:44 AM (#307154) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: WyoWoman U.S. Wyo had come late to the party. Then again, she often came later, rather than earlier. ... It just seemed to work out better that way. Now, for instance, standing next to her "boy toy" thoughtfully provided by Ali Ali Incomfree, the two of them watched the mayhem unfolding in Ali's Great Hall. "this isn't to my liking," Wyo said with a deep sigh. "I'm a Libra, with a Scorpio moon. This violence shit just grates on my nerves." "YOU'RE a LIBRA with a SCORPIO MOON???" her "attendant" gasped. "My WIFE i a LIBRA with a SCORPIO MOON... so playful and passionate and ..." with that the man began to sob. Wyo was astonished. Here in the troops of the great Ali Ink, she hardly expected to find a sensitive New Age guy. But surely, these tears were genuine, and the warm, limpid brown eyes like pools of bubbling crude ... "What happened to your wife?" she asked, putting a kind hand on his forearm. "what has happened to YOU?" His shoulders shook. He turned his back on the scene below, and when he had gained his composure somewhat, he said, "It was Ali Ali. He took all our wives and forced them into his harem several months ago. He promised all of us that we could get our wives back if we would come here and serve as his buck-harem. All we had to do is, um, take care of you Mudcat femmes and we could have our own women back..." "Then why are you crying?" Wyo said solicitously. "You could be using this diversion to go and open the harem where your wives are being kept. You could join forces with us and together we could crush the scurrilous reprobat extraordinaire, Ali Ali Inkomfree..." "Yes, yes," he interrupted. "That would be such a great plan. But ... " he paused, groping for a way to explain his terrible dilemma. "My wife, you see. It's that Libra/Scorpio thing... The Libra would forgive anything, but that Scoprio? She'll kill me if she thinks I, um, took care of your 'every' need ... " "Ah," Wyo said. "I understand completely. Well, listen. You just help us kick Ali's ass from here to Antarctica and I think we can figure out a way to deal with your wife. Appeal to her inherent sense of justice or something..." The man's bright eyes sparkled with hope. He started to speak, but instead, his face froze in terror, his gaze fixed just over U.S. Wyo's left shoulder. Wyo didn't even need to ask. Ali Ali Incomfree's turban was plainly reflected in the young man's glistening brown eyes ...
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28 Sep 00 - 10:58 AM (#307315) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: Naemanson The group stumbled along through the sewage and the dark. "This must be what it's like in an internet flamer's mind!" thought Naemanson. Suddenly Meebo hushed them. "We're almost there!" He sounded excited. Mousethief grunted as Naemanson bumped into him in the dark. Somewhere out of the dark overhead there was a rumbling noise and, interwoven with that, a sound of light laughter, a woman's voice, and a light tinkling music. With some difficuylty he identified the rumble as a snore coming from the grate over his head. There was a belch and the rancid smell of apples drifted down on them. The group moved on slowly and climbed up a set of slimy stairs. They stopped at the top. Meebo gestured towards the holes in the wall. "Look!" he fairly squeecked in his excitement. The group ranged along the wall and peered through the holes. They were looking into what can only be described as a scene from the Arabian Nights combined with a Roman orgy. Bodies were draped in amorous couplings over the pillows and divans that lay scattered around the room. Some musicians played in a corner and the doors were guarded by large men with drawn scimitars. Naemanson was about to ask Meebo what was so important about this scene when he heard Mousethief gasp. "That's Sergeant Kat!" He whispered, "We've gotta get in there and rescue her!" Little Hawk looked like he wanted to point out that those women didn't seem to need protecting. They appeared to not want any distrubance at all but Mousethief was insistent. They studied the thick stone walls before them. "How do we get through?" Naemanson put on a determined look. "If you want in there cover your ears!" And he set the bow to the strings of the now amplified psaltery. There was an ear splitting howl of dissonance as he bowed two adjacent strings. The stone in front of them groaned in protest and then split outward from them as though trying to escape the sound. The wall crumbled crushing two of the half naked eunuch guards. The group dashed into the room. Naemanson sawed at the strings while Little Hawk calmly began pegging arrows at the other guards. Meebo went into a karate stance and took on the two guards on the left and mousethief drew a pencil thin rapier and confronted the guards on the right. As the music filled the room the other musicians fled in terro followed by those survivng male attendants. The fight was quickly over and the rescuers stood panting heavily in the now silent room facing the scantily clad women they had rescued. One of them stepped forward, a chewed stogie clamped in her teeth… |
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28 Sep 00 - 12:04 PM (#307360) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: GUEST,Little Crow Woman This person is not Taliban! Little Crow Woman thought to herself. What is IT?-he?-she? doing sprawled on the grate like that....................... Well, I'd better go investigate... *Caw*
Davinia woke up, grouchily. The crow hopped on one foot, towards Davinia, and then flew a few feet away, and looked back.
Something's strange about this picture, thought Davinia. Suddenly, the grate gave way under Davinia's weight. She cursed mightily as she fell, and then she landed heavily, blacking out again.
When she came to, there was a woman looking at her, much in the way that the crow had. "Hello, I am Little Crow Woman. It looks like our comrades have rescued Sgt Kat and her Commandos. How are you feeling? Your head looks sore." "How do you think I'm feeling!" Davinia snapped at her. "I can heal you," said Little Crow Woman. "And then we can rejoin our comrades, and rescue the Afghan women." Davinia thought that the woman was just a flake, but decided to play along. That's the safest thing to do with insane people, she thought... |
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28 Sep 00 - 12:24 PM (#307368) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: katlaughing Suddenly Sgt. Kat's split personalities merged into one, again, she felt a weird quaver, like her body had been split in two, then rejoined. Shaking her head, she looked up to see a motley crew of men with various weapons. All about was wreckage from the fight. Now, why was she back in here, when she had been running towards the rendevous...naw, nevermind, it was that split thing all over again. Guard me boys, I've got to go into stasis she said. Have to see if I can reach that sorry, sackbutted, Agent 12809769687452864 and find out why Spaw and the rest of them aren't here! THEN, we will see about getting out of here! If I don't make it back in, just carry my carcass outta here and find me a Prince Charming with a killer kiss! At that, she folded her legs, went into a lotus position and promptly left her confused body behind, personality and soul-spirit intact. After a few hours, it was obvious the Sgt. wasn't coming back for a long time. Her body was cool to the touch, breath very slight..they loaded her onto a litter, still sitting upright in Lotus position and carried her away with them to the rendevous point. It was going to be a long journey. Kat floated through the middle planes...looking, looking. She was very tired. This mission had taken so many twists and turns, it was no wonder she suffered a split personality....seeing a soft downy comforter realm, she settled down, content to let events unfold around her, knowing either way, karma and free will would carry her to her next destination. Well, that and the fellahs who carted her bod around! |
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29 Sep 00 - 01:11 AM (#307999) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: Peter Kasin He turned back to U.S. Wyo, saying "We better duck into a movie theatre and hide! Have you seen Silence Of The Clams?" Wyo furled her brow - "yeah, saw it. Luckily this is a cineplex. We don't have much time! How about There's Something About Mary Poppins? There are some classics playing upstairs - Florist Of Arabia/From Beer To Fraternity." He looked around frantically. "No, Wyo, we're better off at National Velveeta/ The Man Who Would Be Burger King/Gunfight At The Really Good Corral/Al Pacino as "Pepsico" quadruple feature. We can wait him out. He'll never be able to sit through Velveeta, let alone find us there." Wyo looked at him slyly - "Can we hide in the balcony?" He replied, "Baby, the whole theatre is a balcony - well, one quarter of one." They sprinted to the ticket line, where he then frantically opened his wallet, cards dropping out as his shaking hands flipped open the card holders. Then his face blanched. "What, now!" Wyo shouted. "We've got to get in that theatre!" "Oh, Wyo, I can't believe it. I left my student discount card back at the..." Wyo cut him off, through down a $20 bill, and snatched up the tickets. Just as Ali came dashing around the corner, they ducked behind a crowd that headed for the main theatre. "Wyo, nobody's going to Velveeta upstairs. Change of plans. I'll get some popcorn..." Wyo pulled him by his front shirt, whirled him around, and pushed him into the main floor theatre. |
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29 Sep 00 - 01:34 AM (#308006) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: katlaughing Floating out-of-body, Kat watched as WW and her fellah went in the theatre. "This should be good," she thought. "Better than any picture show. I'll just hang out here for awhile and see how these two do. Damn! I thought I'd finished Ali Ali Inkomfree with my Plastic Magic Fingernail poison. He must be one tough son of Ali!" |
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29 Sep 00 - 01:48 AM (#308010) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: WyoWoman "My god," U.S.WW thought as she collapsed into one of the seats at the back of the theater, "Has this all just been a movie? If so, someone needs to fire the continuity people, call in Syd Field and learn a thing or two about structure..." She sat in silence for a moment, watching the credits roll for the newest release in the "Silence" series. "Silence of the Clams," she had heard, lacked the punch of its prequel, "Silence of the Rams," and was limp, pallid even, compared to that wonderful Scots flick, "Silence of the Tams." Her companion was exasperating, she thought, fidgeting around, fishing for popcorn money. She turned to get a closer look at him in the darkness of the theater. "Forget the damned popcorn," she said. "Ali Inkomfree might still be in the lobby. HEy, wait a minute. Weren't you just telling me something about your wife? And isn't that your hand? And isn't it on my knee?" She paused for a moment, noticing that hand. Once again, it was oddly familiar. She looked at his face. The light from the screen -- still silent, of course. There is little silence more silent than that of clams. Even happy clams -- flickered across his face. Their eyes locked. Her heart did that funny little flipflop thingie it used to do back in Peter T's dum-dum-doobie-doobie-do thread. Why, she'd almost think it was Catspaw with his paw on her ... oh, my ... She was definitely getting a strong Mudcat vibration now. She looked again and her companion reached up to the neck of his Taliban robe. With one swift motion, he pulled an amazingly realistic mask from his face. WyoWoman sank back in the seat with a sigh of relief and then began laughing so hard she could barely contain herself. It was him. The famous Mudcateer, her friend and companion. She hadn't seen him for such a long time... except ... "Wait a minute," she said, peering into his face with her laser-like baby blues. He had never been able to lie when she locked those tractor beam eyes on his. "That mask you just pulled off... did you just happen to have another of those on recently? Did you just happen to be posing as, maybe, a GUARD in the Taliban HQ? Have I been HAD???" He said nothing. Just smiled mysteriously as he pulled a tiny piece of straw from the neck of his robe. His hand moved ever so slightly up, up ... On the silvery, silent screen, the clams just smiled and smiled. |
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30 Sep 00 - 06:56 PM (#309207) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: Dave the Gnome "How did I get here?" thought Davinia, not for the first time, or not, possibly, the last. Recollection slowly crept in. The mission. The attack by 6 whirling dervishes... or were they a longsword morris team? Relief at being hailed a holy one. Shock as her(?) followers ran off at the first hint of trouble. Rapture at the sight of strong cider. Horror at the effects of same... Something about a crow, or was it a woman, was lurking there but she could not put her finger on it. The palace was now deserted but for Omar Sharif lookalikes clearing away trays of food fragments and wasted flagons of fine ale and wine. She knew she had to act now but nothing told her the next step. Suddenly she had it! The crow had told her that Kat had been rescued!!! No more need to help there so her main mission could go on unhindered. Now how could she continue with the crusade? Counting the servants present - 6 - a smile flickered beneath the beard. "Omar" she called coquetishly "Can you dance or play concertina....?" |
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01 Oct 01 - 03:06 PM (#562743) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: GUEST refresh |
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01 Oct 01 - 03:55 PM (#562776) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: mousethief Why? |
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01 Oct 01 - 04:37 PM (#562807) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: GUEST,Mary Bee You people are Americans are'nt you?? come on in now.. play times over.! |
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01 Oct 01 - 04:38 PM (#562808) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: John MacKenzie Could a welder's daughter be described as "A brazing hussy"?? Jock |
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01 Oct 01 - 05:26 PM (#562849) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: katlaughing Cute, Jock, my dad will like that. Alex, my thought exactly. I think this was an ill-timed refresh. Of course by anon-ee-muhs. |
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01 Oct 01 - 05:56 PM (#562862) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: Lonesome EJ I don't know Kat. The thougt of old Usama being seized by a group of armed feminists appeals to my sense of justice. |
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01 Oct 01 - 06:37 PM (#562890) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: sophocleese Actually one of the 'threats' to the Taliban that I've read in an e-mail states "Give us Osama Bin Laden or we'll send all your women to college!"
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01 Oct 01 - 07:25 PM (#562929) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: Amos Well, I think Kat ought to drift OOB over the rugged mountains and discover bin Laden in a remote cluster of goathide tents and use her telepathic beams to steer and American Blackhawk on a recce mission to the location. A |
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01 Oct 01 - 07:57 PM (#562945) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: Dave the Gnome It was in the days of Caravans across the blazing sands when Horses used to talk in the language of Man. Young horses were not named until they were at least two years of age, when their characters could be measured and quantified. Until they reached that time they were simply known as 'Os'. It was in this time that a Caravan set forth across those sands and amongst them was a Mother, Father, 3 year old and 1 year old horse. The Father was set the task of leading the long trail of wagon pulling Horses and Camels, for he was wise and knew the sand well. And he was pleased. Mother was loaded with all manner of goods, including three bolts of cotton and a pan destined for the grand Caliph of Cairo. The 3 year old (Known as Hugertya in the language of horses - although that term does not translate well into the language of humans.) was given charge of two bolts of Linen and a water gourd. 'Os, the 1 year old, was given a roll of silk to carry as he was youngest. After some miles had passed 'Os began to complain to Hugertya that the silk was far too heavy and he needed someone else to carry it. Hugertya asked father if he could, but of course Father could not as he was leading the whole caraven. 'Os asked if Hugertya would carry it but Hugertya felt he could not. This left only Mother. 'Os asked if his Mum would help but Hugertya, on seeing how his Mother carried an immense weight already, could only respond - Sorry, 'Os, 'ar Ma's bin laden with enough stuff already. And so, in years to come, the Taliban authorities quoted Hugertya's words. Osama bin Laden is carrying enough responsibilty already - we do not wish to add to that burden... Sorry, best I could come up with at short notice:-) DtG |
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01 Oct 01 - 09:12 PM (#562989) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: katlaughing DtG...LOL, very inventive! Okay, LeeJ and Amos, but I'm not going without the commandos! |
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14 Jul 04 - 08:54 PM (#1225692) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: freda underhill I'm refreshing this because it's so funny! |
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17 Aug 04 - 06:53 PM (#1249832) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: SINSULL I want to know what happened in the movie theatre between Spaw and Wyo. And where is Karen in all this? Worth a read if you haven't guys. |
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18 Aug 04 - 11:06 AM (#1250390) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: Rapparee The Idaho Legion has temporarily sobered up enough to stay in their saddles. Not necessarily upright, but in their saddles. And if the horses would only show up they'd be ready to ride. |
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23 Jul 13 - 02:51 PM (#3540904) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: Lonesome EJ What fun we had, huh? |
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23 Jul 13 - 07:11 PM (#3540975) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: GUEST,Nathan Tompkins Yeah...we did. there were so many things to keep people coming back for more....those were the days when if you wanted to troll, you'd ask, "What is Folk Music?", or start a gun control thread. Those were the days when we had Song Challenge threads, people wrote stories, plans were made to write novels, plays, people were enthusiastic about their music, and just getting to know one another...before all the strife, and the same old political threads. Remember when accomplishments brought people together here, in this world wide virtual community? Remember when horrible tragedies did the same? Remember the scheduled HearMe sessions, Max's Radio Show, the later PalTalk groups, the concerts that floated over the bandwidth? Remember when most of the threads were not political, with the same people going on and on about things...and no one's minds ever changed? There was magic here at Mudcat...and there still is. I will always love this place for the people here. However, it is a fact that so many wonderful people have faded from these electric pages. Some are gone...others just moved on, myself included.... That being said, I will always love it here...because of the people that still exist here behind their computer screens. I will always come back from time to time to check on it. i am just too damn busy these days to do otherwise. Mayhaps, one of these days the old Cat will find her magic again. |
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23 Jul 13 - 07:29 PM (#3540980) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: Bill D "Remember the scheduled HearMe sessions, Max's Radio Show..." Oh my... yes! I still have some old conversations from when we had a side conversation going on in ICQ chat...in multi-colors... while the radio show was going on! I found an ICQ Chat Player and can relive the banter. I never joined the Mudcat Commandos Men's Auxiliary, as I was no writer... but I read it as Kat and her intrepid team slogged onward! And I DID hear Kat sing on HearMe. |
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24 Jul 13 - 03:47 AM (#3541090) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: gnu Thanks, LEJ... forgot all about it. |
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24 Jul 13 - 04:17 AM (#3541099) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: Morticia good times |
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24 Jul 13 - 04:22 AM (#3541101) Subject: RE: Sgt.Kat and Her Howling Mudcat Commandos From: GUEST I tried the ICQ chat. I could never get it figured out. I always felt I was missing all the fun. |