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Amnesia 8
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Amnesia - Issue 08 (1992-05-31)(Eclipse).adf
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Article27
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1992-05-31
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Arc's INFERNO
Apparently,Peter (-=Aaargh,it's PoLaRiS from now on everybody!=-) is writing
an article about HELL,and I just thought you might like to know ARC's personal
definition of hell.No? Well fuck off and read the national geographic.
Right,now,I've already died in a tragic spaghetti eating accident,and due to
the fact that I pirated a copy of Golden Axe,and the fact that I'm an agnostic,
I'm going to hell.Okay,well,I get there,right,and I'm in the traditional fire
and brimstone etc,and ahead is a corridor.Over to the left are some catholics
getting toasted.
Over to the right are millions of Nintendos with Super Mario Bros Land World 24
jammed into the cartridge port.So,I go down the corridor and arrive at a junct-
ion.Suddenly,a handicapped person leaps out and headbutts me in the face.
I lie there in pain for a few minutes,and then I hear footsteps coming up the
corridor.I look up and there is an ST owner.(I can tell he's an ST owner be-
cause of the fact that he is a little spotty git,he has a white stain on the
crotch of his trousers,but mostly the fact that he has an atari logo totooed on
his forehead.)He starts going on that the ST is better than the Amiga,and how
the Amiga is a games machine.Just as I am telling him to fuck off,he hits me!
with a MIDI interface and I pass out.I wake up and look around.Then I realise
that I am in my room,and there is my trusty amiga.I load up DPaint and attempt
to draw something.
I then realise that I CAN'T DRAW ANYMORE! (WHAT DO YOU MEAN,ANYMORE?-Ed)(coders
and musicians note that graphicians live in constant fear of "losing it" see
"inspiration is gone") After a few hours I hit the table in frustration and the
Amiga crumbles into dust,and I am in the corridor again.I then hear the faint
sound of dah dah da da da da da....and realise in horror that someone is play-
ing 2 Unlimited.Aaaaargh!I run down the corridor but unfortunately,the corridor
is infinite at the moment,and I soon get knackered.I lie there helplessly,and
suffer untold brain damage out of listening to rave music.Eventually,it stops,
and a lift door appears.Aha! perhaps an escape! I step into the lift and look
at the panel type thing.Hmmm let's see....1.Computer section,that must be this
floor.Hmm,that looks good,7.War Criminals,mass murderers and other diskzine
editors. Right,going down.
I step out of the lift which vanishes behind me,and I look along the tunnel.A
lot of people are frozen alive in big ice cubes.On one row is Jusas Iscariot,
and Adolf Hitler,the editor of the Sun, and look,there's Jack Tramiel! On the
other side is a telephone directory sized book,with the title "Index of persons
or otherwise,kept in the seventh level of hell for tax purposes." Opening this
up,I look up Beadle,Jeremy....Hmmm...aha!It says:Beadle,Jeremy:Reincarnated as
a Salman Rushdie lookalike in the middle of Iran,14 Feb 1989
As I`m supposed to give Peter this in two hours I`ll have to continue this at a
later date.Maybe.
2 B Continued