Date: Sun, 25 Jan 2004 02:30:24 -0500 From: Nicolas Ward Reply-To: presidents @ swil.org To: presidents @ swil.org Subject: The Return of the Sinister SWILNews #1 (announcer voice) Previously, we discovered that an insidious crime wave was sweeping over the town of Swarthmore. Apathy ruled the land, and nearly all hope was lost. The last bastion of defense against this tide of evil were three young, attractive, and humble figures with dreams of a better SWIL! The identities of these three mysterious figures are secret, and they prowl the night as Tall, Grande, and Venti... (cue dramatic music) TGV presents... ############################################## ### THE RETURN OF THE SINISTER SWILNEWS #1 ### ############################################## Story Idea: Tall Letterer: Grande Editor-in-chief: Venti The still of a quiet Saturday afternoon was broken by the pathetic cry of the multitudinous rabble being called to disorder. Above the circling crowd a single voice could be heard pleading for volunteers to help combat the spread of **SWILBusiness** Cordwainer Library, the once great pillar of the community, stands now in ransacked ruins, pillaged and laid bare by teeming hordes of ravenous readers. (This is comic-bookery. Nothing is too over the top -t). This collection need a hero. A bibliohero. A figure stepped out from the crowd, declaring 'I love books even more than my yellow legal pad,' brandishing his tattered and trusty companion. 'I shall accept the marvelous mantle of Cordwainer Librarian and restore this collection and bring it into harmony with the rest of the library system.' A voice from the crowd sneered, "What are you going to do? Make us return all of our books?" "Yes. And I will catalogue all of the books, before engaging in a great renewal, removing the weak and battered and replacing them with strong." And the figure strode off to the north, muttering something about a bar code reader. An explosion could be heard from the southwest corner of the square. A fireball leapt from the upper windows of the SWIL treasury, and two masked figures leapt out of car, racing into the building in the chaos. Seconds later, they left the building, each carrying a large sack of loot. But before they could make a hasty escape, another figure stepped from the crowd. "The money of this organization is under my control and supervision, and none shall escape my wrath for attempting to abscond with it." The two figures dropped the loot and escaped into the crowd, pursued by the mystery figure, who seemed to have both legs and tentacles. A great monument was to be created for these heroic figures. Brimming with aesthetic appeal and coherent and standards compliant, a new website was planned. A cohort of brave and dedicated artisans are to attack this task and compile a new legacy. The whirlwind of evil that had overcome the masses had also stripped the walls bare. Not a trace of the signs that marked the grand events that brought the community together could be found. Again, several figures stepped forwards, promising justice and propaganda for all. Shots rang out. Somebody screamed. (Jonathan entered the room. -v). But the confusion was cleared when somebody pointed out that a temporal warp had been opened, revealing the future. The shots and screams came from a day two weeks in the future, when an event from the past would be reenacted. Honoring a crime-spree of an age past, the mafia would rise once again, gunning down all that opposed them in a furious fusillade of simulated gunshots. Three in the crowd watched closely, as they somehow felt that their efforts would make this future event possible. The warp closed, and a calm spread over the crowd. A figure stumbled into the square, completely unaware of his surroundings. Tripping over himself and slurring his speech, he muttered something about thirteen Kalends of April and then staggered back into a dark alley, shielding his bloodshot eyes from the blinding sun. The crowd took note of his presence, but ignored him, knowing he'd come back soon. The editors of the Daily Planet-Bugle Enquirer stepped forward, announcing a change in format. (This really is unimportant to the plot of this adventure, but all superheroes have a job at a newspaper in order to keep their identity secret. -g) The newspaper is spinning off the events section, to be distributed by e-mail at events AT swil.org. They promised more information in the evening edition of the paper. High atop the tower overlooking the place where all had gathered, a lone figure stood. The figure then began to fall from this great height, though whether she was pushed or if she simply jumped was unclear. The splatter on the pavement wasn't pretty, but a few brave souls came forward to mop up the mistress Filk and bring her to an ICU for gradual treatment and revitalization. The head of the media conglomerate, who everybody knows is evil, but there's any evidence supporting this, sat high in her office, cackling menacingly and looking over the crowd. "My deadlines will force them all to bend to my will. By February 29th, they'll be eating out of my hand. And their sci-fi and/or fantasy art, poetry, and prose will be mine. Mine to publish in BEM, which...which...will be distributed for free." (That's got to be the worst evil plan I've ever heard. -g) A golden kazoo fell from the sky. Given from the great God Dischord, the offering smote Greg upon the forehead. But the God's munificence rang hollow, and Greg was unharmed. He picked up the kazoo and marched off kazooing a tune that shall not be mentioned for fear of waking a sleeping evil. Just when hope had been restored and the faceless enemy seemed vanquished forever, SWILBusiness struck back with a vengeance. Reminding all that Saturday Night SWIL was part of us now and that it still was his to control, our only hope was to meet him in Parlors at 7PM on Saturday night (1/31) and vanquish him in a parlor game to the death. (Well, we could do Death Name Game -v) (NO! -g) But as the SWILBusiness stalked off to plot strategy, its evil twin, NonSWILBusiness reared its ugly head, threatening frequent TV and miniseries assaults. The masses quickly surrendered and prepared for the deadly onslaught to begin. Andrew was made to show the 10th Kingdom. Mai was subjected to the horrors of a double Fantasia showing. Ben and Rachel K were made to go out and catch episode of Firefly. Benitez was sucked into the void of Stargate. Nick was forced to wander the realms of Star Trek once a week. Sam will show PBS documentaries, starting with Loch Ness Wednesday at 8 in ML lounge. Qian was pressured into showing black and white love movies in Science Center 101 Fridays at 10 PM. The people were subjugated and quickly realized that all these showings weren't so bad. But it only got worse from there... Before the brainwashing could begin, the crowd was allowed one last night of indulgence and debauchery. At 7.30, they are to be marshaled to Bond Hall for the birthday celebration of Qian, Mark, and Arthur, where wink will begin at 10 PM. Applicants to the strategic command will be screened by a game of Diplomacy beginning Sunday at 10 AM in Kohlberg 226. Spies will be sent to cons all over the country, with details on organizing this secret society to follow. The effects of global domination will be simulated in a pair of RPGs, which have nothing to do with global domination, run by Ben Newman and JC. Finally, there are plans to compose a new ode to the NonSWILBusiness, but plans for a roundsing and composers meeting are still up in the air. But before the NonSWILBusiness could put his diabolical scheme into effect, the three heroes, Tall, Grande, and Venti, raced to the scene and cut the red wire, disabling the bomb. NonSWILBusiness vanished in a puff of smoke, realizing his defeat. Our heroes realized that all of NonSWILBusiness's activities were fine on their own, but only together would they make a plan for global annihilation, so they were left to stand on their own with no common threads. As the sun set on the dispersing mob (still pathetic -t), everyone sighed in relief for the dark days had passed. (Night, however, was still dark -g). ATTENDANCE LIST OF IT AIN'T EASY BEING GREEN Andrew "Bad filk ideas" Conforti Nick "Robots! Destory @ll t3h hunams!!" Ward (What?!? -g) (Destory. -v) (We're only two entries in and we're already incoherent. -t) (Get used to it - g) Sam "I'm not dating Frodo" Jenkins (Yes you are, you said so yesterday -t)(If you're not, does that mean you won't kill me if I try anything -g) ( -v) (Oh, can't we just let that die? -g) Jackie "People covered in fish" Werner Michael "Latte, latte, latte, latte, latte, latte, latte, latte, latte, latte, latte, latte, FRAPPUCINO!" Noda (I think we may have just found the cause of his sleep problems -g) Ben "I've got a big stick" Thuronyi (I don't want to know -g) Miriam "Order is boring" Newman DAVID ALEJANDRO "Offensive driving!" BENITEZ Susan "The Embezzler" Zell Eliza "Pants Attack! Pants Attack!" Blair Alex "Walrus Juice: Ride the Walrus!" Pshenichkin (WTF, mates? -t) BDan "The Former" Fairchild Sarah "Frog!" Hartman (What? I haven't punned...yet -g) (I like frogs -t) Ben "Gorf!" Newman JONATHAN "MAI? MAI? MAI? MAI?...MAI?" SCHNEIDER * JESSICA "I HAD SOMETHING I WANTED TO PUT BUT I DON'T REMEMBER WHAT IT IS - OH, AND WHERE ARE THE SWILNEWSES?" ROBINS Greg "Too good for actual work" Robinson (Illegible scrawls) x3 Jerome "Wink Wink Wink!" Fung Mai "Tall!" Pucik Michael "Almost sentient" Cohen (That's the prequel to Almost Famous, right? -g) Jillian "Blargh" Waldman Mark "I asked, you answered" Handler * THIS FOOTNOTE HAS A SWIL PURITY SCORE OF -199 CREDITS: Over-enthusiastic man with yellow legal pad: Andrew Conforti Tentacled volunteer: Susan Zell Masked figures: still masked Warp watchers: Susan Zell, Jackie Werner, Andrew Conforti Stumbling Drunk Figure: Root Beer Kegger Media Conglomerate Head: Qian Li Brought to you by the 300 km/h presidency Tall, Grande, Venti