Nobody Nowhere appeared in the pub, ordering an empty cup of evanescent tea. It had been a good day: The new NNNNN “Theory of Nothing” thread had begun anew, in a more focused way, replacing the former one that had begun to weigh a TON.
Michael materialized beside him, ordering Turkish coffee, noting,
— Coffee Invented —
Coffee plants were in the desert first seen,
By a starving outcast who ate the bean—
And found it bitter, hard, so, boiled some, tart,
Finding that the water was the better part;
— Coffee Resented —
Such, from asylum, he returned home, quaint,
And for his coffee was declared a saint,
Though its drinkers were despised by clerics:
The partakers dallied over their cups!
Michael’s new assignment was to be in Turkey, where Thanksgiving was invented, and which, luckily, was not next to Hungary.
Profpat was dancing on the tables to a song about the good old days and drinking a Singapore Sling.
Neutralino enjoined order in the threads, as well as a quenching goblet mix of various molecules that easily slid all around each other.
Graybeard downed a pint of ale made by mermaids in Atlantis.
Michelle was on hand, this being her gathering, and assured that all were satisfied, while relating tales of the ToeQuestors who had come and gone before.
Covis had a glass of ever evolving wine and read the TOE News, which reported: Somewhere, a monk went down to the sacred pool to meditate, as always, but, upon this occasion a house containing Al Queda’s number two suddenly blew up.
Robert came in and gave everyone a new allowance of 200 privates messages.
MJA ordered a drink at random, knowing that there was really no difference among any of them.
A toast was proposed by Austin: “To Nothing in particular!”
The Bird of Time
Fleeting Time vanishes, e’vr the winged prize
That flies in a perpetual sunrise.
With the breath of eternity on its lips,
Time’s Origin is ALL that never dies.
Rascal entered, looking happy, but covered with dust and battle stains. They all heard this story as he imbibed some shimmering expanding liquid:
A secure-looking unsecure TOE web-site had been set up to lure certain Conspiratorial hackers associated with some autonomous centers around the world that had thereby survived the assault of the Ninja Empire. They were after the TOE—their last hope.
Tracers attached to the web data had emitted a signal that pointed to a location just outside Washington, DC, not far from the Langley CIA headquarters.
Strike teams, whose only job was to be ever ready, immediately lifted off. Rascal, being in Virginia, bid her farewell and lifted off, as well, as the Oversight for the mission.
Upon landing, he ordered a missile through the front door, and then entered what turned out to be the seven levels of Hell. They fought their way through fierce resistance, melting down six closed bulkheads in turn, finally arriving at the seventh—a wall of ice seven feet thick.
Finally, after many hours of torching the ice that somehow continuously refroze, they found a clone of Hittler sitting on a throne, as well as one of Napoleon crowning himself.
Rascal quickly dispatched them both, left the center with a harvest of material, and called in an air-strike.