Truth in Lies 3: Hell comes to Pikestown https://bthedeadtalkdeadrekindledforums.runboard.com/t242 Runboard| Truth in Lies 3: Hell comes to Pikestown en-us Fri, 29 Mar 2024 14:41:57 +0000 Fri, 29 Mar 2024 14:41:57 +0000 https://www.runboard.com/ rssfeeds_managingeditor@runboard.com (Runboard.com RSS feeds managing editor) rssfeeds_webmaster@runboard.com (Runboard.com RSS feeds webmaster) akBBS 60 Re: Truth in Lies 3: Hell comes to Pikestownhttps://bthedeadtalkdeadrekindledforums.runboard.com/p2522,from=rss#post2522https://bthedeadtalkdeadrekindledforums.runboard.com/p2522,from=rss#post2522Part 1 of 2. The doctor of film, Bloodsteve Rock Your Face, would lead my friend and I to Oliver Stone's house. Then we would set it all back right. Or so we thought, as Oliver Stone's Swedish attendant opened the front door.... "I need to speak to Oliver right away" said Bloodsteve. "Who are you" asked the attendant. "Umm.." Slam went the door. So this wasn't going to be easy. I glanced at Pikey and saw that he was ready to this properly. From inside, the knocking seems rather insistent. The attendant returns to the door: "Oh who is it?!" From oustide: "Sorry to disturb you, but there's been a horrible accident down the road and my friend is bleeding if I could use your telly.." "I've got to use this in a movie sometime" says Bloodsteve, but alas I increasingly felt the world may never get to see Madden Football: The Animated Trilogy. When all was said and done, with the revolution crushed and reputations ruined, Bloodsteve will have paid the biggest price...if he remains in unfettered reality. Dave turned abruptly and said "that IS from a movie, twit!" "Black Hawk Down" I said and Bloodsteve shrugged in disappointment. At once the door blasted open and Oliver himself ran out, almost trampling us. "Where's the bleeding guy?" he asked. He seemed ready for action, as if he were a doctor or something. "Hi, Mr. Stone" said Bloodsteve, cheerily. Oliver backed away, apprehensive and angry at the same time. He said: "What's going on here? There's no bleeding guy. Are you terrorists? No. Don't answer that. You're right-wingers here to protest or you're NRA or you're Pixar lawyers. I don't want you here." With that he was back inside the house and the slamming the door- -but Dave caught it, the door, before it shut, and he was inside without us, to try and drive the truth home to Oliver Stone. "Come on, Doctor" I said, and we were inside, too. Interlude: FOXNEWS ALERT. Snakes bite people. Some of the snakes are poisonous. Now back to..... Oliver had beaten myself and my companions with some strange blend of kung-fu. All the while, we pleaded for him to stop and help us end the revolution. Afterwards, Oliver's first question was obvious as he pointed at the Bloodsteve: "Who is this guy?" "I am a doctor of-" began Bloodsteve, but Dave finished the thought as he noticed Oliver didn't recognize him. "You should know him, because he's a film director-like you" said Dave. "Bullsh*t" countered Oliver. "I've never seen this man before in my life. I mean, it all sounds thin. My movie-the one I haven't edited yet-will cause a right wing revolution, the likes of which only Ronald Reagan could imagine....... Sorry. That's not believable. Frankly you make my movie sound like one of those films that are distributed on the internet, like Why Our Screws Are Loose And We Fight Change. But c'mon, dude. My movie is about people helping others, and laying down their lives to demolish a building." "What?" said Bloodsteve. "Dick Cheney is from Wyoming. Don't you get it?" Oliver continued. "Boys, the revolution isn't happening because of my movie. You look like good corcerned people. Your hearts are in the right place. Make a movie and distribute it. You know the truth." Dave's hysteria had been long gone, but at once I saw a flash of it's return. We might do this-without killing Oliver Stone. We might. "Let's go make our film, 2001: The Year Before 2002" said Dave. And he left, his manic energy restored. As Bloodsteve and I left, the doctor tried one last attack while Oliver's back was turned. But no dice. Oliver plucked out one of the doctor's eyes, then bid us both farewell as he too retreated into some other, perhaps more awesome part of the house. In the car, Dave said "we must go to the most important place. We know that the planes weren't flown by real Muslims. The planes were converted passenger jetliners armed with bombs, one of which exploded too early. The buildings were also rigged with explosives by demolition experts. Floss Security and the US Secret service were behind the attack, destroying their own offices. The Pentagon attack doesn't count because it was fake. Flight 93 is a lie because some of the passengers have been in other movies and they are members of the Screen Actors Guild. The cameramen that were aboard, may have been terrorists because they didn't help them at all." "I guess" I said. "There isn't enough interest to get me a book signing there, but we're going anyways......" said Dave- "to New York, to witness the crime. The film needs 9/11 footage and we are going to get it the best way possible."nondisclosed_email@example.com (abaddon1215)Mon, 19 Jun 2006 04:59:13 +0000 Re: Truth in Lies 3: Hell comes to Pikestownhttps://bthedeadtalkdeadrekindledforums.runboard.com/p2521,from=rss#post2521https://bthedeadtalkdeadrekindledforums.runboard.com/p2521,from=rss#post2521--Quick post, but TIL3 is now coming to an end. Your post will be the Last is this 'series'. enjoy. As Derek screamed and the whakos and the alleged reptilians made his arse into the clown’s pocket the figure outside the cell emerged and the light enveloped his face from an open window on his side of the bars. When the bastards that were raping Derrek turned to see who it was, they paused and Derek was spared of more agony. The man was Rick Moranis, star of ‘Honey I shrunk the kids’ fame. ‘Alive, how could these be’ he screamed, turning towards two turquoise soldiers standing at his sides. ‘I gave orders and you two failed. For this there is only one punishment.’ ‘But president.. .’ the soldier on Moranis’ right side cried back. ‘But what?’ croaked Moranis. ‘We killed him sir, he died.’ ‘It’s true’ piped the soldier to his left, ‘He was gassed to death, just as you asked president! Gassed on the farts of the old, the disabled and infirm. He dropped like a fly. We saw it, so this man cannot be him.’ Moranis turned his back on me and faced both of the soldiers. ‘Then why is it that I see him before me. You cannot tell me this is not Dave Pike, leader and traitor of our plan!? The man who put forward the ancient doctrine for racial purity?! My instincts tell me you are both lying and he and you will both suffer what you say snuffed out our Dave Pike. You and he will be taken to the chamber of farts.’ Just as he said ‘chamber of farts’ there was a terrific noise from the side of the cell where the window was and then a thud as the wall caved in. All the bastards that were hurting Derek flew across the room, each pushed away by the force of some kind of explosion. It wasn’t an explosion though and as the dusty cloud settled I could see two people standing next to a weird looking sports car. It was Derrik, my Derrik and on the drivers side was bloodsteve. They hurried in and got me out. ‘Quick, get the demons’ screamed Moranis on his side of the bars, while the soldiers tried desperately to open the barred door. ‘Your lucky,’ said Bloodsteve, ‘the machine…it’s dying, so we had like a one percent chance of getting to this exact location before they gassed you in the chamber of…’ I cut, as we clambered over the bodies of the alleged reptilians and conspiracy nuts. ‘Yeah I know…the chamber of farts?’ ‘How?’ replied a bemused Bloodsteve. ‘I was told, that’s all you need to know. Let’s just get out of here. Please. All these people creep me out.’ ‘Okay, just take it easy. Get in the car and we’ll get out of here, this place and this time. I’m sorry, it was a mistake.’ Bloodsteve sobbed, getting in the car. Derrik hadn’t moved! He just stood in the cell, looking down at the floor. ‘Derrik, come on. We need to go now.’ I cried. ‘Okay, okay, okay,’ murmured Derrik. He got in the car and just as Moranis and the soldiers opened the barred door, we reversed and went back to our time. One thing I did notice though, was the little doctor, it Danny Devito. How did I know this? Well, when the car reversed the little man was run over and got tangled up in the car, subsequently travelling back in time with us. When we realised this, Bloodsteve used one of his many car modifications and Devito’s limbs were cut free, but he plummeted to the ground from car which was now hundreds of feet in the air. He died, for sure I thought. As we hovered in the air, close to Hollywood as Bloodsteve indicated he suddenly revealed his plans. Plans, which he and my Derrik had been working on for days. The operation name was titled ‘Operation Stone and the Two Towers’. ‘Open the glove compartment’ Bloodsteve barked. The papers in the glove compartment would reveal the extent of Operation Stone and the Two Towers. The plan bordered on ridiculous, it was crazy. How could this be plausible, I thought. ‘It’s easy, not complex at all’ Derrek chirped behind me, ‘We have to kill Oliver Stone, while he’s editing his movie at his plush mansion and swap his movie with ours. If his movies gets out there, the turquoise revolution begins, if ours gets out it will never happen. Our film will be seen as a joke, but if World Trade Centre gets out people will never know and then Moranis will take over. Middle-America will laugh at the truth in lies movies, believe me.’ ‘What’s this World Trade Centre movie about then?’ I asked Derrek. ‘Duh..the attacks.’ Derrek sarcastically replied, ‘But more dangerously Alex Cones’ ‘Pike and Okra carried out the attacks’ theory.’ ‘Okay, very well. Straight to the Stone Mansion then.’   nondisclosed_email@example.com (knights)Sat, 08 Apr 2006 22:57:43 +0000 Re: Truth in Lies 3: Hell comes to Pikestownhttps://bthedeadtalkdeadrekindledforums.runboard.com/p2520,from=rss#post2520https://bthedeadtalkdeadrekindledforums.runboard.com/p2520,from=rss#post2520PART 2 OF 2 The man lying on the floor got up as I tapped him on the shoulder and faced everyone in the cell, it was at that moment with the light on his face from a barred window in the cell that I could see that it was another conspiracy theorist, it was Alex Cones, the rhetorical monster who even put me to shame in the past with his what some called ‘The robot mouth’. “The new world order is out for you mind, sir.” Declared the enraged Mr Jones. “They have locked you in here because they want your mind, they want your votes. Those bastards will use this place to brainwash you sir, and they’ve done it before. I’ve spoken to many people, escapees from places like this. They tell me horrific and disturbing tales of high-order illuminati members coming in and making everyone of the poor souls suffer. We’ll be next, we’ll be next – mark my words, were doomed! The new world order has taken our rights, burned our freedoms! Mr Pike told us this was all ‘how it wasn’t to be’ but he was the one who created it, only to be murdered by his laws! Mr Moranis, or MORE-ANUS as we like to call him told us to keep in order, then released this police state. 10-million Turquoise soldiers ravaging foreign countries, butchering babies and all for the sake of Pike’s freedom act, plus his and Okra’s silly racial purity doctrine. More-anus is a bastard, a New world order, freemasonic, bohemian grove, druid, Satanist, communist, anti-christ!” When the robot-like man had stopped yapping I got a word into him. “Sir, I mean, Alex, Mr Cones.” “Yes” Alex responded. “Why am I the only one other than you, Sherry, her and him over there without the ID tattoo on my head?” I asked. “You know what?” “Yeah, what?” “Charlie Sheen asked that same question.” “And….” “Well, I’m just saying- Charlie Sheen asked the same damn question” “And……” “And he has courage, just like you. He was a fine man and a great actor but his quest for the truth only lead to his death at the hands of that demon of the neo-rupublican party, Mr Okra – He still works for them, I know! I have inside sources and Hollywood connections and friends within the underground LDP (LibertarianDoucheParty).” “But,” I tried to cut in. “But nothing, we’re doomed. I wouldn’t be surprised if Moranis or Okra kills us themselves, either one of them may be close by right at this very moment. They don’t like us truth seekers much you see; they can’t handle cold hard facts. That’s why they killed Charlie, he helped us too much with the 9/11 truth movement. He went on TV and said something along the lines of, ‘the planes must have been Fuhrer Pike’s’ and exposed how Dave Pike had been seen in the building the day before. He also told of his eye-witness account of when he saw Pike push down on the levers to what he believes was the trigger for the controlled demolition of WTC7. Charlie was a great and courageous man.” “That’s BS” I replied, attempting to defend the very false accusations. “Mr Pike couldn’t have done it, he was at the CONSPIRACYFEST2001! And then he wrote the book which exposed the truth about the attacks called ‘Super Mario, Sonic the Hedgehog and the WTC disaster’, in which he alleges that the makers of Sonic funded the attack so that the after affects would slump sales of ‘Daisy’s magic gumshoe’ for the N64. He has the facts, Mr Jones.” “Oh shut up, listen to yourself man – you believe that?” retorted an uptight Alex Jones “Dave Pike carried out the attacks to continue the way for his totalitarian state some years later, and I might add he used the attacks to sell his books. He was seen on the day of the attacks. END of, idiot.”   Suddenly, Alex Jones stopped, and turned towards Derrek who’d only moments ago got up and had now removed his sunglasses, which I then realised I’d picked up. Derrek from this time’s cover had now been blown. “It’s him, the Dr Death! The mad un-holy psychic! The demon of the Neo-Rupublicans!” Sherry got up, the ones labelled reptilians got up, and the only person who didn’t get up was Dr Bloodsteve – He’d vanished – Maybe he was dead? Maybe the short doctor was using him as a lampshade? Alex continued, “Aha, Dr Death, the Pike doctrine, burning our freedoms, hey! We don’t like your types in here. We don’t like you free burners. What should we do to him people?” “Clown’s pocket,” shouted Sherry “Let’s give him am arse like a clown’s pocket.” Derrek slipped back on the bench, feeling the need to escape but knowing he couldn’t as he was locked in with these mad, mad, mad people - I could see he was petrified, these people were very demented. Before I could defend my friend and all the good he’d been doing to stop Moranis’ evil reign they’d already bent him over and while Derrek cried in agony, Mr Jones was laughing as all eight including him took turns at making Derrek’s arse like a clown’s pocket. I turned away, not knowing what to do. A tear fell from eye. …..Then a figure of man emerged outside the cell. nondisclosed_email@example.com (knights)Sat, 01 Apr 2006 16:10:38 +0000 Re: Truth in Lies 3: Hell comes to Pikestownhttps://bthedeadtalkdeadrekindledforums.runboard.com/p2519,from=rss#post2519https://bthedeadtalkdeadrekindledforums.runboard.com/p2519,from=rss#post2519PART 1 OF 2 Shiner based on..http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sherry_Shriner Cones based on..http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Alex_Jones_(journalist) Moranis state internment camp for political prisoners Sam Jackson had screwed us over once again. From the thrift store to an interment camp, this was our situation, one of unknowing dread of what was to come. How we got there was a mystery – some coma-inducing weapon from the future perhaps? I didn’t know. What I did know was that my own dream for my future self was turning in my own nightmare for the now me from 2006, now in my future self’s future, who was dead. All I can remember was the train pulling into the camp and the haste in which we were made to get off the train by the turquoise camp police. After that we stood in a line with about fifty other people and the selection process began. A short man wearing a turquoise doctor’s outfit examined each of us and took notes on his clipboard. After he’d finished he’d either point one way or another. One man protested and began shouting at the little man, “How dare you! What reasons have you got me here now? A reptile perhaps, is that it?”. The little man just stood staring blankly at the protesting prisoner, staying unnerved. Then the prisoner continued on his rant at the short doctor, “Seriously, I have done nothing – not a thing- but your stupid state and the doctrine means I am threat. Is that right, you little sh—“. Before the protesting man could finish his speech, the little doctor held up his hand and made the man pause. The doctor then turned to one of the turquoise guards who stood right next to me and whispered something which I heard. “Make him into lampshade, wolfgang. Once you’re done, place it in the lobby of the turquoise church.” The guard then dragged the protesting man away into the direction in which all the unhealthy and old people went. Moments later when the doctor saw me, his jaw dropped, as though he’d seen a ghost. But this was my future self’s dream in fruition, I had wanted this, a nationalised state and one where enemies were thrown into interment camps. And of course, a state with a new religion based on my works. Although my future self had come to the realisation that the turquoise state was wrong, he couldn’t stop it and it outgrew him. To the followers of the turquoise state he was a Jesus-type figure, and even he was murdered by his own ideology for denouncing it the rules and laws he put in place were still abided by every follower and he was still praised like a messiah. The little doctor couldn’t believe his eyes, was it really the god-like figure he’d heard about and praised so much? Well, yes it was, but not his one. “Tell me, what is your name?” asked the now blushing doctor. “My name Uri Satzler, from the forbidden state as your lord David Pike calls it. I am a high-order reptilian, originally from the planet Zantoz.” After those words spoken by me the rest was a blur, apparently the little man got angry because he couldn’t believe that someone of the forbidden race looked like his Jesus, Dave Pike. I received a blow to the head and was knocked out cold. We I awoke, I was in a cell and all I could here were the mad screeching of an evangelist Christian woman. “If I had my way, all other conspiracy theorists would get sent away to camps.” – Dave Pike, 1999 – The freedom lectures This was weird, or beyond weird. It was half and half. Cramped into the little cell were conspiracy theorists and those accused of treachery, labelled reptilians by the state. There were about ten of us in the cell, half must’ve been conspiracy theorists and psychics outlawed by the state and the others accused of being reptilians. “Jesus told me of the mars lucifer bases, reptilians and the bible code, he told me. He said Miss Sherry Shiner, I choose you. You’re my voice until I return! He said, Miss Shiner your will is great, but you must be the voice, my voice. Expose the omegans and the filthy jews who murdered me! Do your pure race proud! He also said, I must use photoshop and use the filters to find the truth. And yah know what? I did. And then I saw the skin scales of the reptilians. Then he said, use that reverse speech software to find their hidden evil. And yah know?” She drawled. “What!” I replied. “What’d he say? What happened?” “I found the hidden messages.” “Huh?” I replied bemused. “What’d they say then, these messages?” “Erm…er….molech..er…illuminati..satan – stuff like that really.” She asserted. She gave a cold look back at me, pointed her finger at me like a nutter, shut up and sat back down on between two gentlemen with “REPTILE #Moranis State interment camp” tattooed on their foreheads. It was them I turned back to see Derrek who’d now awoken from what may have been a beating by the guards earlier. And like the two gentlemen either side of Miss Shiner, he too had the reptile ID tattoo on his forehead. Then I lifted my hand and felt for mine, but it wasn’t there. This was strange. I needed an explanation, so turned to a guy who was crouched down on the floor weeping. Just hoping that no one in here would see my resemblance to the much fatter future self I put on a pair of shades which were lying in front of me on the floor, which seemed handy. nondisclosed_email@example.com (knights)Sat, 01 Apr 2006 16:09:36 +0000 Re: Truth in Lies 3: Hell comes to Pikestownhttps://bthedeadtalkdeadrekindledforums.runboard.com/p2518,from=rss#post2518https://bthedeadtalkdeadrekindledforums.runboard.com/p2518,from=rss#post2518An excerpt from a communication cached by MoranisCom.80'sBoardGames/PersonalMilitaryRecords I had been overcome by grief at the grave of my friend, Dave. Then Dave magically appeared with another man who looked like a gent that had once offered me the legendary Nazi crane. Bloodsteve Rock Your Face was that man's name, but I did not recall he and Dave being such good friends. Then we were running from the Turquoise Army. They dress in the color turquoise because the government decreed it. The color provoked trust and made the soldiers seem inobtrusive. Such ability was needed during the nation's second occupation of MacCanada New With Wireless Enabled Soft Drinks. Unfortunately, the soldiers had lost the official code of conduct, and after UN Royal Decree 280671-8a, they were allowed to break furniture, ravish womankind, and snort drugs in the course of executing commands. Unlike my friends, I knew that we had not far to run before the soldiers would stop in exhaustion. Persistent alcohol use, drug abuse, poor diet and constant weightlifting had rendered the modern soldier an expensive, blood-thirsty paperweight that slowly starved the Moranis Economy Of National Stability. Unfortunately, the soldiers were well-armed with the latest, cheapest to mass-produce armaments. Which meant that we would be shot by Leprechaun bullets. These were something that Dave and Bloodsteve RYF had yet to face. Their minds would snap if such carnage were unleashed, for the Leprechaun bullets were tiny but terrible rounds. Rumors had crossed the globe about single green bullets that had destroyed entire Russian cities. The carnage would wait for another day, though, as Dave, Bloodsteve, myself, and myself ducked into what looked like the rear door of a thrift store. Our eyes had not adjust to the gloom, nor had our noses become accustomed to the stink of rotting upholstery when-- "WHOA WHOA WHOA" said Samuel L. Jackson. It was Sam alright, but time had taken a few cheap shots at his person. He was one of the hundreds of millions of Vulnerables, which were standard citizens that were vulnerable to terrorist attack. Thusly, he ate only government rations of CowFeedMach4, with the occasional supplement of MacGoatBurger or SoylentCadaver Protein Drinks. Water here was not scarce, but it was well known to be polluted by all manner of discarded home electronic items and improperly buried animal remains. His only entertainment, the Home Information Gatherer By MSWeControlYourLifeWhileYouDoNothing was also his only reason to live, besides sex. How had the great entertainer become a Vulnerable, when he was once so respected? During his career he had garnered great critical accolades for his acting career, with performances in Triple X, Star Wars Episode 1, Formula 51, and National Lampoon's Loaded Weapon. "Mister Jackson" said Bloodsteve, "it is a great honor to meet you, sir." "Yeah" continued Sam Jackson, "I thought that was you. House Of The Moron. And I know your friends, too. I want to tell you something-" He picked up a shotgun from the carcass of one of several dozen abandoned television sets that were nestled amongst other secondhand fare. "-that is, before I turn you over to the Turquoise Army for liquor money. That cloning sh*t never happened. The Samuel Jackson that you two saw in the woods was actually a digital replica made by Institutional Laxatives and Machineguns. I'm sure you two knew at the time that cloning was out of the reach of our science. The replica wasn't perfect, thanks to proprietary CGI technology, but it was enough to fool you. It was so good that you never noticed that it wasn't a replica of ME at all. It was actually Mace Windu, the character for which I won an Oscarbowl thanks to my portrayal in Star Wars Episode 17: Exit Sandman To Stage Right."nondisclosed_email@example.com (FakeMorris3d)Wed, 22 Feb 2006 06:05:11 +0000 Re: Truth in Lies 3: Hell comes to Pikestownhttps://bthedeadtalkdeadrekindledforums.runboard.com/p2517,from=rss#post2517https://bthedeadtalkdeadrekindledforums.runboard.com/p2517,from=rss#post2517Part 2of2 “You’re wrong!” Steve asserted. “You’re wrong, so wrong. You just don’t realise” Steve then pulled out several scraps of newspaper from the future. They were a shock to say the least. Had I and my books really caused all this? I was dumbfounded and speechless. Still leaning on Derrik’s body, Steve held up the scraps of newspaper indicating with his finger the actions of my own being would cause. “See that..” Steve wailed, nearly in tears, pointing at a front page of newspaper with President Moranis’ face on. “He’s the leader,” Steve continued, “He butchers children because they don’t follow the ideology which you unknowingly formed. One of evil. You don’t know it but your fucking crazy, and crazy people like you don’t realise it. You, Dave – my case in point!” “Me, crazy!” I proclaimed. “What a joke. Never! I mean, I did here voices once, and felt a presence around me but the psychic told me that this was a friend from a distant extension of reality.” “Just get back in the car; you must see what you have done, your actions and words.” Steve said softly. “And see this...” Steve had saved the worst scrap of newspaper till last. The paper, called ‘The Truth Speaker’ reported of my murder by a brainwashed lunatic at a book signing. “Oh my” I responded at seeing the newspaper.  I sat back in the car, shifting Derrik into the back seat, next to Steve’s portrait by Leonardo Da Vinci and array of sex toys from the future for the single man. “I must teach you,” Steve scorned back at me, preparing for a jump into the future while pressing knobs and turning buttons. “I will take you to November 15th 2012, a day after you were murdered by Moranis’ drone. We will meet up will the Derrik from the future who himself is at great risk from the men, you and him placed into power.” “Sorry!” I cut in. “I put into power? These are Rupulicans, Steve! I don’t even do politics, dammit!” “Yes, you put these people in power” Steve explained. “After the Tranny-Gate scandal, your paper did a satirical cartoon of Bush in a dress. It all got out of hand and the real republicans went out in protest, including bush, who denied the cross dressing incident ever happened. After they burned American flags in Times square, all members were arrested for treason, including Bush, who was then beheaded by the ‘New Republican Party’, an interim government that you, Derrik and Rick Moranis set-up. For a short time, Derrik, although British became president, but after he had a fling with Tom Cruises’ male lover there was a conspiracy which led to Rick, a long-time fan of yours becoming president. You and Derrik were both exiled, while Moranis preached “I am me, I am free” to the American people. When you returned from exile, you continued working on The Truth Speaker, and at seeing the mass destruction and tyranny Moranis’ leadership had caused ‘Spoke of the truth’ as you saw the hell that had become America. Where secret police roam the streets and anyone who disagrees with Moranis’ politics is murdered. Like you. You were killed off because you disagreed with your own philosophy which Moranis used against the people to control them into unwarranted paranoia and madness.” Flabbergasted by my own madness, which led to what I never wanted I got back in the car, sat back and began to cry. A moment later we were in the future and I hoisted myself up to see what darkness my words and actions had helped create. “Holy crap!” I barked out, seeing actual darkness. It was night, pitch black. “It’s the middle of the night, Dave, be quiet!” Steve whispered back. “This is a dangerous place. Moranis’ secret police patrol these areas regularly. We’re in Washington, Moranis’powerbase.”  “But how..?” I murmured back. “This is reality, Dave. I can go anywhere I like. And if my calculations are correct, Derrik should be nearby.” When I got out I realised where we were. It was a graveyard, a large one too. And creepy considering the pitch black darkness. We pushed the car into a wooded area and put our Derrik in the boot. We then made our way out into the graveyard in search of Derrik from the future. Just ahead of us through a hundred or so tombstones there was a man knelt down at a grave with a bright torch, moaning and wiping away the tears from his eyes. He cried out my name. This is when I realised who it was. “Derrik! Derrik! Derrik!” I shouted back. He looked around, spooked by voice. Maybe I was a spirit he must’ve thought, calling out from heaven to deliver good news. As we got closer to the man, he stood up, stiff. “Dave? Is that you?” he wailed back. He then pointed the torch at the grave (‘Dave Pike 1957-2012’ etched into the gravestone’) as we got up close to him, unsure of what was happening. Before I could say anything else, the sound of many a heavy boots in contact with concrete began to fill the air, getting closer. “Quick, come with me! We must get outta here, the turquoise army..run!” Steve roared. We then headed out of the graveyard and out onto the streets. Derrik followed. What would the future hold out on the streets I thought? nondisclosed_email@example.com (knights)Sun, 12 Feb 2006 18:26:23 +0000 Re: Truth in Lies 3: Hell comes to Pikestownhttps://bthedeadtalkdeadrekindledforums.runboard.com/p2516,from=rss#post2516https://bthedeadtalkdeadrekindledforums.runboard.com/p2516,from=rss#post2516Part 1of2 “Sad isn’t it?” came a voice from behind us. It was BloodSteve. “I can change this for you – we can change this. My car is just here.” He stood, leaning on air, or so it seemed. “Yah like my car boys?” he asked. “What car?” I replied. “This car…fitted with a invisibility cloak, standard 2076. It flies too.” In Steve’s right hand there was some kind of device that could communicate with the car, he pressed a button and the car appeared. He had a smug grin on his face, and we both stood open mouthed by what the future holds. “Jump in!” He bellowed. We moved closer to the vehicle which’s only resemblance to the sports car from the other day was its shape. It was decorated with years of time, the past and the future. “Jump in, I say!” cried Steve. “Okay, you filth.” Derrik mumbled. We climbed in, hesitant at first but settled as we got in our places. Steve sat in the driver’s seats, and I on the other, with Derrik cramped in the middle. “It’s important that we do not disturb the time continuum, one word from you to your future selves will change history, but could cause the most drastic of all reactions, meaning that the universe will most likely sucks itself in – basically eat itself and implode. That would mean no time, no you, no me, no time-machines, and no chances to correct the errors. We will go back one week from today. That should be safe. We will arrive at this exact location, so we won’t even move one millimetre. No 88mph’s here boys.” Explained Steve as he twisted knobs and turned on buttons for our voyage. “Are we going yet? You filth.” Said Derrik. “Done. That’s it!” Replied Steve “What do mean?” I shouted aloud. “We have travelled through time!” he shrieked. Through the windscreen we saw the camp as it was. The buildings were still there, and the loyal turq-shirts were too. We were amazed and slumped back, hiding our heads from the view of any faces from the past. To my amazement Connor was there. He danced as the sunset came up at morn, his figure and movements a joy to watch. His testicles flowed freely, hanging beneath his turquoise loin cloth. The turq-shirts just sat back on benches eating breakfast, studying who they saw as a mad man. I was there too, as was Steve and Derrik. Steve delved into his jacket pocket as we looked into the past, something he’d done too much of. He pulled out a huge brick phone from the 1980’s which had been modified to his time-travelling standards. “Right!” he exclaimed. “We don’t get out, we stay put. My plan will work as thus. I call my friend at the White House and he turns on the fan again, causing a disaster, which should divert attention from the Red Cross here later next week. The disaster will be so big that they’ll have there hands full, and the only people able to attend to the needs of the camp are the army, who’ll kill all the PETA activists who’ll be blamed for the destruction of the camp.” “What’s this fan exactly?” I asked inquisitively. “Remember the hurricanes of 2005; they were the actions not of nature, but man! My friend he doesn’t like people of colour, so to tackle the problem devised the idea of ‘The Fan’ while drying his hair. The pressure caused by the fan pushes the water up and floods occur, leaving the problem people screwed. Their homes are destroyed and they are forced to move away, so George’s buddies can construct huge shopping malls and casinos for rich white folks. Much conspiracy theorists of this time were dead-right about the causes of such disasters, back in 2005 and the future, but the idea was so laughable many became alienated by other conspiracy theorists and either fell into mental institutions or committed suicide.” Steve stopped talking as the brick device began to respond to he outgoing call. The Device morphed from a normal looking telephone into the little head of the person Steve was calling. “Who’s that?” Yapped the little head, slack-jawed and looking dumb. “It’s me, George. Yah know ‘Da’ Bollster!’” responded Uwe jokingly. “I need ‘The Fan’ immediately turned on; I have friends that need help desperately” “I don’t know,” replied the head in Steve’s hands, “That’s expensive..er, recession expensive. It could drop my popularity rating more so. Plus the invasion of Iran could be halted by months” “Okay, don’t bother, but your little secret will be exposed. Sessions of cross-dressing exposed in the press, with pictures supplied by an inside source – me.” The little head looked worried. Steve’s blackmail was paying off. “Okay…very well.”. The panicking little head yelled back. Steve then hung up. The phone then remorphed from the head to the brick from the 80’s. “Why do you associate yourself with such evil” Derrik asked. “George isn’t evil,” Steve insisted, “Just a bit feeble minded. Easy to control, yah know – like the turq-shirts. He’s a real nice guy though…if you ever meet him you’ll agree…” “Oh…ok” Derrik replied. “Well, that’s it. The heat should be off you, from the Red Cross at least.” Steve said, now facing us, holding yet another weird device from the future. “What’s that?” asked Derrik, referring to the device. “Oh this, er…move closer…” Steve then put the device right up close to Derrik face. Derrik slumped down, knocked out by the device as it flashed in his eyes, and I got worried real quick. I opened the car door on my side and made a run for it, but stopped only a few metres away from the car. Steve leant over Derrik’s limp body and faced me. He was angry. “Get back in the car you fool. This is necessary, Derrik must not know about his own destiny. You on the other hand need a trip to the future – 2012 to be precise, where one man who gulped down all your rhetoric and metaphorical hogwash without rationality turned against his own people. He has turned this country into a police state, abiding by your rules of how people should act. Your philosophy has put the fate of many at risk, including conspiracy theorists like yourself.” “That’s impossible!” I shouted back. “My way is THE way. If everyone followed my ideas the world would be a much safer place.”nondisclosed_email@example.com (knights)Sun, 12 Feb 2006 18:24:58 +0000 Re: Truth in Lies 3: Hell comes to Pikestownhttps://bthedeadtalkdeadrekindledforums.runboard.com/p2515,from=rss#post2515https://bthedeadtalkdeadrekindledforums.runboard.com/p2515,from=rss#post2515Oh dear, I thought. What more damage had Bloodsteve done? "Ja, so I didn't change the big wars" said Bloodsteve. "But I did change the result of some of them. I guess it doesn't matter much. Switzerland won Super Action World War 23 Featuring International Swimsuit Model Stevette Bole, and, of course, I helped in only a small way. You will need German passports to go home now. Don't forget. And the United States are in Asia now. I don't remember how that happened, though, so don't ask." "Sh*t" I said. Bloodsteve continued, ever the professional: "You're ready to get out of here, Mister Okra. Don't forget to stop by the hospital's chapel to give your thrice-daily praise to Orson Bole's classic film I Spit On Your Last Citizen Kane On The Left. We can't let you leave without it." "Will do" said Dave and we were on our way. First things first: "Davey, what about the nuclear holocaust?" "He changed things" he continued, "so maybe there will be no holocaust." "Rick Moranis will become president of the US" I said. "I should've expected that" Dave said. "No....Bloodsteve has done something bad to this time" I said. Soon enough, we were there, at the chapel. Having seen guards posted all over the hospital's halls, we knew we should follow what the Doc said were rules. We would tell Orson Bole's film that we liked it, that it moved us, and perhaps that it changed our perspective. Maybe it had done just that. Inside the chapel there was a monitor that displayed a revolting peice of slow motion footage of Charlton Heston in the classic film, House Of The Apes. Heston was at his prime when the film was made, and it shown as he sacked the ape army with kung fu. I stared at the crazy footage, and felt the world spin beneath my feet. Then I realized something: the actor in the footage wasn't Heston. It was Prochnow, but it was Heston's voice dubbed over for the American audience. A crude splash screen appeared, relevant for an old action film, advertising Der Zombieplanet, a then new film by Alfred Hitbowl. I found this revolting, and all in terrible taste. With the mandatory film worship out of the way, Dave and I escaped the time-perverted hospital. There was only one place to go where we would know the way, the meaning. Piketown, Las Okra, The Turquoise City, Village of the Terminally Paranoid. But once there, we discovered that the camp had been covered in plastic. In fact, the place was swarming with Red Cross militiamen that were busy, like ants, destroying our camp. Dave and I didn't like this one bit. My friend couldn't watch for more than a second before he ran over to the soldiers and pleaded with them to stop. I didn't join him, because I had heard the stories about the Red Cross Army. "D*mn you all to hell" said Dave. "YOU BLEW IT UP!" I guessed that we would be needing Bloodsteve's car.nondisclosed_email@example.com (abaddon1215)Fri, 10 Feb 2006 06:15:35 +0000 Re: Truth in Lies 3: Hell comes to Pikestownhttps://bthedeadtalkdeadrekindledforums.runboard.com/p2514,from=rss#post2514https://bthedeadtalkdeadrekindledforums.runboard.com/p2514,from=rss#post2514Derrik’s powers amazed me, even at this time, as he was close to death. He used all his power to lift both me and him into the sky, way above the camp. But I knew this would have consequences later. He barely used telekinesis as it drained his psychic energies, for which he relies on so much to make a living. The last time he did something like this he couldn’t gain contact to the ‘other side’ for 9 months, then resorted to selling himself on premium-rate psychic hotlines. Some were the standard ones with “Would you like to speak to a dead friend?” on, whereas others were steamier with “Hot, Sexy man-to-man psychic action!” written on them. He’d sit down in drunken stupor and speak of lies, while men of all ages wanked themselves off. EWWW! Derrik was desperate though, he had a problem at the time, which was a dark despair from not being capable to harness his superhuman powers. He then began to shooting up brown, also known as Heroin. It was an addiction which he had for months. During these months it was downhill too, for the “Most Spooky” show. With Derrik not relying on his real spirit guide, one of the shows parapsychologists tricked him, but DerrIk would not know until later. A paparazzi frenzy followed with Derrik being hounded everywhere he went. The story of how he faked a possession of a 9/11 hijacker was nothing compared to the pictures that were spread across all the papers of Britain and worldwide on the 3rd of November, 2003. Derrik was photographed in a shocking series of pictures that would bring his TV career tumbling down. Firstly, he was pictured doing naked lap dances for parliamentarians and Senators in a Soho brothel , then he was captured shooting up heroin in a rubbish laden alleyway, slumped face-down in a drain, looking more like a tramp than the polished man from TV’s Most Spooky. Most Spooky was axed and Derrik was down-an-out, a bum. Derrik was my friend, so I helped him. He cleaned up his act and began to follow me around. Together, we were a unit, a two man army fighting for the truth. “Arghhh…please, kill me.” Derrik muttered as we flew high on the bike above the camp. “No! I won’t give up on you Derrik…to far together Derrik, we’re like brothers. Don’t you give up, you stupid arsewipe.” I was angry, and he was losing the will to live The bike then began to drop and I bailed out before it hit the ground. Derrik stayed where he was, the force of his body pelting the dusty ground creating a murky cloud in the dark. He was weak, I was strong. I picked him up and carried him. The hospital wasn’t far. As we got to the hospital there was a crowd gathering, and the news people were there too. No doubt this had something to do with the camp. Then I saw more of the soccer moms and the out of work students with their signs. ‘Genocide? Yes, it was. The Government like to kill people too, as well animals!’ one said, referring to the massacre the day before. When they saw me with Derrik over my shoulder they reacted badly. Spitting and cursing us, but keeping the peace thankfully. Or so I thought. I hurried through the slide-doors of the hospital and one ran up behind us and through a petrol bomb. It erupted on contact with an elderly Mexican woman who was sitting in a chair in the waiting room, missing both me and Derrik by inches. Panic erupted inside and people began to flee, running and screaming. At the help desk, away from the madness in the waiting room I requested help for my ailing friend. “Please, he’s been shot. Terrorists came and shot him up good, please get a doctor right away.” The lady at the help desk replied in broken English, “No-anglais sir, err…wait one moment”. She hurried away, coming back several moments later with a familiar face. “This is our anglais speaking doctor. Dr. Bloodsteve, PHD.” And there he was, looking much older than the Steve who vanished earlier but Steve all the same, minus his remaining hair and more wrinkles. “Steve!” I shouted out loudly. “What happened? Did the reptilians drain you of your life source, making you age rapidly?” “No, no….Oh my, look at Derrik. What happened to him first?” He replied with haste. “Shot! Shot! Shot! By Terrorists who were after the plutonium you stole.” Derrik said whimpering and in pain. We both carried Derrik to an emergency room. Laid out on hospital bed, Derrik was given some morphine to numb the pain. Then Uwe/Steve/Bloodsteve began to explain where he’d been as he removed the bullets from Derrik’s gut and shoulder. “I’ve been everywhere…I have a time-machine, I can go anywhere – future or past! I’ve seen every major moment in history, from the birth of Christ to the rise of Adolf Hitler, to events in the future like the tyrannical dictatorship of US president Rick Moranis! Amazing! Along the way I way I have also boost my persona, and the name Uwe Boll…Steven Spielberg, Alfred Hitchcock, Orson Welles…I went back and made sure they are not so great now, yah?” Who are they I wondered, and what other changes in history had Uwe made. “There are many things I have done, but mostly my plans falter. In 2012 for example, I was arrested by Rick Moranis’ secret police and jailed. It’s a nasty time, hmmm…Rick is more evil than Hitler, I thinks. ” he continued. “Like I said, plans falter…the butterfly effect, yah. “How?” I questioned. “It’s complex….you can’t stop wars, disasters, because from those terrible moments in history many people make love and have babies, yah. If I stopped WW1, or WW2, there’s a chance that the planet would be overpopulated or I didn’t exists, yah?…paradoxes, damn confusing stuff.” Dr. Bloodsteve then continued to tell of the changes he had made to history. nondisclosed_email@example.com (knights)Sun, 05 Feb 2006 20:27:27 +0000 Re: Truth in Lies 3: Hell comes to Pikestownhttps://bthedeadtalkdeadrekindledforums.runboard.com/p2513,from=rss#post2513https://bthedeadtalkdeadrekindledforums.runboard.com/p2513,from=rss#post2513(pants began to fill? This is how rumors get started.) AN EXCERPT FROM MIGUEL "MANNY" RODRINANCHEZDIO'S BLAIR WITCH MEXICO AUTOBIOGRAGPHY I lay injured, near dying, as the Doctor Bloodsteve left our timeline. His instincts in doing this were good, for outside the honorables David and Derik had some kind of chico/chica moment together. I thanked the god Earth Hermano that I was away from this. As told from religious papers, EH only permits men to do man love with him and no other or that man's city would be painted with sewer-water and alligators(Bulletin 891, courtesy of EARTHKING.GOV). So I could only smile for my bosses and cough for a while. My rest did not last long, for soon the Army of the Red Cross came, claiming our land as their own to be given to the United States. As the white-clad soldiers raided our Turquoise Eutopia, we discovered something else: Derik and David were gone. Initially I thought they may have been eaten by something, but I had no time to finish the thought as my people and I were being taken away. The White Ones clad our lands in plastic as they lead us away. Our lands quickly began to look like a plastic-wrapped chocolate chip cookie that was sitting on some table awaiting a powerful god to devour it. There were wails and sobbing as we were pushed towards a fleet of trucks. Some of my people tried to break away, but none were successful. The White Ones were fresh, having not fought in the battle earlier, and easily kept hold of my people. Peculiar, I thought, that these soldiers had been kept in reserve earlier. Over the noise of my peoples' hearts breaking, I heard a voice: "Apple thief, you have cheated death once too much". I recoiled at the insult, but realized that the speaker was Hugo The Entertainer. Hugo was a friend that had entertained many a disquieted spirit with his horn playing. He had became a legend in this hell that is caught between broken Mexico and sinking Texas because he could blow like no other. "Hugo, my friend" I croaked, "blow for me soon." He laughed at this despite being pulled towards the trucks by the White Ones. I smiled for my friend, but seeing him here I felt sorrow. The White Ones were strong and able, and their red cross insignia's were colored as blood. They were like new vampires that were too efficient to use black leather and face-paint. And they were ushering my poor friend to leave his property. Likewise, Maria Lopax(sp?) was among us. She had been the janitorial engineer of the Okracobana, and was very talented in that role. Having heeded Derik's orders to watch David, I knew that David had shown chapters of several unpublished books to this woman. When David ordered me to watch himself for fear of Derik, I saw that Maria had thoughtfully considered the man's paranoid tales of green people and cartoon girls that were bent on controlling him. I heard Maria talking to another camp employee. "They must be Brigade Del Illuminoceos for the clothes are so white and bright like highpriest. This is how they show purity amongst themselves and tambien the color helps blind people that watch plane hit building. The color look like white but it is called 'mysterious flash on underside of airplane'." Several other Turqs heard the woman's babblings. A sense of panic began to course through my beleaguered comrades. Then we stopped moving towards the trucks. It was a standoff. The White Ones had equal numbers and were better armed, but I didn't like their chances. The soldiers held out their cattle-prods, ready for a fight. As one of our chefs launched himself towards the White Ones, a triumphant yell could be heard. David was the yeller, but no one noticed the sound as carnage broke loose. My people fought the White Ones well. It appeared to be a stalemate, but just then someone looked up. Every head in the fray soon looked skyward to see-- --David peddling a bike through mid-air. He coasted over us from many meters above, with legs pumping madly. Derik sat on the handlebars, wrapped in a blanket. Presumably the blanket was present to help his gunshot wound. But in truth, he may have been nude under the blanket. I cried. As Dave and Derik disappeared over the distant treeline, everyone came to their senses. Fighting now seemed silly. One of the Red Cross soldiers broke the silence: "everybody just get the hell out of here. Right now."nondisclosed_email@example.com (abaddon1215)Fri, 03 Feb 2006 05:05:05 +0000 Re: Truth in Lies 3: Hell comes to Pikestownhttps://bthedeadtalkdeadrekindledforums.runboard.com/p2512,from=rss#post2512https://bthedeadtalkdeadrekindledforums.runboard.com/p2512,from=rss#post2512Didn't check this throughly for errors so if there is any it's because I'm tired. Enjoy. It was two days since the well deserved butchering of the PETA members and there was now no protest, it too had two days since the buildings of Pikestown were brought down thanks to a silly jap, and a silly psychic medium’s overprotection of an apple tree. All that was left was the smoky black smoulder of the now gone buildings, and the Ockrcabana 2k6, Derrik’s secret nuclear underground bunker. But more would soon disappear, as Dr BloodSteve had felt that Hollywood needed him back. It had been a week since he arrived, and in that time we had come to like him, everyone liked him. He did make terrible movies, but his charm had wooed us. The camp was flat; there were no standing buildings, bar Derrik and Joe’s so-called shower room, which was hidden from view anyway. The burning had stopped, and all that came from the buildings now were not the sounds of my humble turq-shirts but the crackling of timber. Derrik and I were loading supplies from the US embassy to the underground bunker from a truck that was sided next to Dr Bloodsteve’s posh sports car from the early 80’s with doors that slide open gracefully and had a shiny new wax job. Apparently, Bloodsteve had bought the car from a “Shady Mexican fellow” as he put it, and that “the fellow wanted rid of it because it was cursed”. It was night at the camp and preparations for the end of the world would continue promptly tomorrow morning, meaning that all the remaining, uninjured turq-shirts were asleep. Out of all the carnage there were two miracles though. Miguel was plucked from the rubble of the Okrakabana unhurt and the rolls of film for our movie “1984 today: The persecution of the truthseekers” were found and survived the “Pulling” of the building. Dr Bloodsteve was ready to leave and wearing some kind chemical sci-fi costume was ready to take on Hollywood with our film, yes. Yes that is, because he’d managed to edit it and finish post-production financing and marketing thanks to his German friends. The financers probably thought that because it was Dr Bloodsteve as director it was a sure-fire cash-in flop, yet with all the publicity pikestown, Derrik and me were getting they would be wrong. I hope. I shook his hand, as did Derrik and he then sat in his car ready for the offing to Hollywood. “Goodbye friends…I love you both, you have been like a mother and father to me, and I hope you understand why this has be. Those people, they say bad things on IMDB but I have a love for film and the DVD sales are good too. I hope things they fair well for you, and Pikestown.” Uwe sank his hand into his eyes to wipe away the tears and make a move on for his long journey. “We understand”, Derrik replied caringly. Something had shook Bloodsteve as he then sat up from his emotional poise to one of intent and shock. Maybe it was emotion I thought. Perhaps he’d jump out and give Derrik a sloppy snog. “Oh shoot! The Iranians! Run, go, go!” said Bloodsteve alarmingly. Bloodsteve turned the keys as we ran off in the direction of the showers, where we hid for the coming showdown. I didn’t see anything at first, and thought that the BIG attack was about the start. But it wasn’t. Instead, a camper van vaulted through the Pikestown gate with two Arab looking guys perched atop wielding weapons. One had a bazooka, the other a machine gun of some kind. Another drove it madly, as if drunk. The camper van drove erratically and my fears were for Dr Bloodsteve, who instead of shooting off in the sports car just sat ruffling about. Seconds later I saw that it was ignition problem and Bloodsteve was smacking the wheel in temper at the problem. The camper van stopped aside the sports car and the truck. Bloodsteve leant to one-side and rolled down the window. “What is it!?” Screamed Bloodsteve. The Iranian with the machine gun then began to talk. “We want our plutonium back! We gave strict instructions Mr Boll! We asked for it to be returned, and it wasn’t…you lied to us and our leader, and for that you must die”. “Oh that”, Bloodsteve replied with disregard. Rarely the martyr type was Derrik, but he ran to back to the scene to negotiate. The terrorist the pointed the gun and shot Derrik across the chest area. I sat back, chilled and scared by the scene before. My pants began to fill.  Derrik shouldn’t die, I thought to myself. Amazingly, Bloodsteve’s car started and he made moves on his journey hoping to shake off the camper van inside the camp parameters. There was a loud bang and the car disappeared. My pants filled some more and pongy smell filled the air. Sh*t that is. There were burning tyre tracks from where the car vanished. I came to the conclusion that the reptilians had got him because of the film. I just didn’t know though. Was it possible that he’d travelled back in time or something? The Iranians fled petrified, and Derrik lay silent and not flinching one bit. Was he dead? nondisclosed_email@example.com (knights)Fri, 03 Feb 2006 01:28:05 +0000 Re: Truth in Lies 3: Hell comes to Pikestownhttps://bthedeadtalkdeadrekindledforums.runboard.com/p2511,from=rss#post2511https://bthedeadtalkdeadrekindledforums.runboard.com/p2511,from=rss#post2511"The Okrabana will not be forgotten" I said to my turquoise-shirts. "I hear you, and the people that knocked down this building will soon hear you." With a mere two-and-a-half weeks until the total destruction of life on Earth, I was forced to hasten the game. We had no time to implement a business strategy or produce a cheap television show. We were Most Out Of Time. A war was needed. I had reasoned that we would blame our Iranian friends. Evidence would be made such as: Iranians creating the hit show American Idol. Iranians sabotage of the US Postal Service, which had lead to increased postal costs and decreased quality of service. Iranians secretly funding the Republican Party and then building Bill Clinton's fabled "Vast Right-Wing Conspiracy". Iranians planting dinosaur skeletons beneath the Earth's surface in order to drive Western science into a realm of false conclusions. The final nail in Iran's coffin would be fabricated evidence presented by Doctor Bloodsteve: Rock Your Face. Bloodsteve had become well-respected around the camp, and thus the TQ's would gobble every syllable that the doctor spat out. He would tell the camp that Iran had stolen Iraq's legendary horde of weapons of mass destruction(WMD's) during the eighteen month period that the Americans publicly debated going to war with Iraq. My TQ's would then be suitably convinced that the camp should direct it's efforts towards destroying Iran. If not, I would make it seem that Iran had destroyed the camp to avoid compensating us for our services. I could then order everyone to focus on a crusade against Iran. The workers would have purpose, so they would function diligently. Meanwhile, I would devote myself to a few final purposes. Dave had seemed more normal lately, if only to thwart me. I would never know if he was truly insane, but I wouldn't allow his last days to erase a bold history of public lunacy. I have no Nazi crane as of yet, nor do I see a way of procuring such a thing. Neither Joe nor Bloodsteve:RYF have been any help. I have begun to doubt their German heritage. In fact, it's ironic enough to seem like espionage. Then...THE MILITARY HAS LANDED! And just as quickly PETA is eating it big time. That is too bad. So many college kids and soccer moms have never been wasted so badly, or professionally. The National Guard exercised extreme precision in dispatching those terrorist goons, and it was easy to see that the "weekend warriors" had not wasted their time in the desert called Iraq, besides the time they spent spreading syphillis on the newly-liberated people. "Oh no. They've come for us" said Dave. "Reptillians are here. Witness their green plummage. Everyone RUN FOR YOUR LIVES and leave no children for their abortion squads!" This was just the break I needed. So as everyone went nuts, I grabbed Dave and headed for the Okracabana 2K6 which I had secretly built under the standard Okracabana. Dave was very surprised as we entered the earthen superstructure. "Der, what is this.." he stammered as we entered the REAL complex. I supposed it was a good time to tell him of my plan. "Well" I said, "I call it Okracabana 2K6. It's a high-end underground home for a medium, like me. And his entourage, which is you. And sometimes Joe. Or Margot. Or Peed. Mostly, this is the place I intend to live in as the world is destroyed. For years the world thought I was only a television personality, plodding along in haunted castles, but instead I was building the ultimate survivalist's bordello." Dave interrupted: "The world ends in two-and-a-half weeks. You don't expect me to stay here and do nothing?" "We have time" I continued. "Besides, would you like to fight the US military right now?" "Okay Derik" he said, giving way for the time being. "Yes, Dave. You have made the right choice. We have been a fine team for the past XX years. I said XX because I can't recall how long we've been chums. It would be a shame if you didn't survive the end of the world. I would miss you." I turned on a television monitor that was annointed with Fox News. It took a second for the monitor to come to life, as the nuclear bunny hadn't been used in quite some time. But the bunny would be used now, and thank a god that it was made for such a calamity as this. The Iranians were slightly insane, despite being totally predictable, so I knew that they would eventually destroy the world. I also suspected that our working relationship would give me advance warning of their moves. Oh, how right I had been! Fox News was all too happy in reporting the victory outside Pikestown. The PETA terrorists were being destroyed. Those that weren't blown to bits were taken away for processing. They would make excellent Mac Human nuggets for third world countries.nondisclosed_email@example.com (abaddon1215)Tue, 31 Jan 2006 05:54:34 +0000 Re: Truth in Lies 3: Hell comes to Pikestownhttps://bthedeadtalkdeadrekindledforums.runboard.com/p2510,from=rss#post2510https://bthedeadtalkdeadrekindledforums.runboard.com/p2510,from=rss#post2510(Flaming ability activated.....commencing troll strut....) "Shephard Smift here with a FOXNEWS ALERT. Recent PETA protests in a small northern Mexico town have turned deadly! The compound that was shown here earlier has been destroyed by a brushfire. Doubtless, PETA has destroyed this group of dwellings in order to further it's radical agenda. Heralldo Rivera is on the scene:" The image is stunning. Behind Heralldo, the camp where the guy killed the monkey has been destroyed. People dressed in turquoise can be seen stumbling about like zombies. In an Uwe Boll film. I wonder for a moment: Why did that guy kill the monkey? The Foxnews people said that the man was British, that he was also a loon. I could not say if the monkey belonged to this man, or if it was someone else's, in which case it may have attacked the man. PETA is capable of anything in it's agenda to allow animals to rule people. It isn't hard to figure that they would destroy the camp, but I could not see the larger motive. Seemingly, there was nothing to gain. The monkey was dead, and that is not something that can be fixed by violence. Heralldo takes a sigh, turns to regard the carnage, then begins his tirade: "People for the Evil Treatment of Americans has struck hard today, destroying the community you see behind me. Mexican children have gathered along the roads that lead here, and those children are in tears. We ask ourselves a question: is one chimpanzee worth an entire neighborhood? PETA thinks so and has cashed-in the homes of an untold number of Mexicans as a sick tribute to their dark god. We've also seen Derik Okra in the midst of the carnage. Most of our viewers probably don't know who he is. He is a spirit medium. It is unclear whether or not he is connected to David Pike. Tony Blair has issued a statement saying that 'all of my country looks to these men so that they might know what to think' and he also says that he hopes that the terrorists 'get what they deserve'. It's a disconcerting statement indicating some sort of retaliation. The Mexican government has issued a statement, as well, adding that all sympathies are with the two Brits, and they hope no nuclear weapons are detonated on their soil. The US State Department is currently issuing a flurry of warnings, most regarding an abandoned website and people that pose as other people. Photos of John Russo and Bill Hinzman are being released but it is unclear of their import. Again, we don't know if all of the information is relevant, and if so, is all of this somehow connected." Back to the newsroom: Another talking head has lined up to recite various items. "The President of Iran has just spoken on Al-Jazeera. He issued a grim statement, saying that America's day is numbered and Israel's day is numbered one less." Back to Shephard Smift: "My producer is telling me that the website is deserted and hasn't been in use since long before the Iranians planted the dinosaur bones. We have no idea why the State Department is watching this. Perhaps it is a trap for identity thiefs or something. On the site, there is mentionings of some sort of twisted role-play. Apparently persons named Alex 'John Russo' Knights and Micheal 'Bill Hinzman' Morris once frequented this website, but we haven't yet determined their purpose. No-wait-we have ciphered through numerous entries on the website and have found some mentioning of the Nazi crane. OH MY GOD. Apparently these men were terrorists long before they died of old age, and they had access to the Nazi crane. Certainly we all know of the Nazi crane, a device used to build anti-Semetic shopping malls. The device was created during the time of the Imaginary Holocaust some years ago and has long been thought lost." Back to Heralldo: "Carnage is happening before our eyes! Several units of US National Guard have arrived and are engaging the PETA terrorists. Unfortunatly for PETA, they are used to guerilla warfare and obviously are no match for professional soldiers in open combat. But that's what they're getting. Tanks, mortars, and air-cavalry are taking it to PETA. From in the distance comes the dull roar of approaching aircraft, which is probably an airstrike to soften the lines of the terrorists." I turned the TV off in pure frustration. The Daily Mirror had predicted armageddon in 2008, but it would come much sooner than that. Surely, seeing the National Guard squaring off with PETA, an organization of soccer-moms and ne'er-do-well college kids, must be a sign of the end.nondisclosed_email@example.com (FakeMorris3d)Tue, 31 Jan 2006 02:14:49 +0000 Re: Truth in Lies 3: Hell comes to Pikestownhttps://bthedeadtalkdeadrekindledforums.runboard.com/p2509,from=rss#post2509https://bthedeadtalkdeadrekindledforums.runboard.com/p2509,from=rss#post2509Hoq slumped down in mid air, the bullet from Derrik’s gun striking Hoq spinal area. Shuji, the comedian, ran terrified. Hoq stood his ground, wanting to sort this out diplomatically. “Prease, prease…we come here and you do this. I was but a poor farm hand once and for many year helped myself out of that social stigma. The pauper; that was me. Dave, your friend, he knows me. When he need backing as you say, he come to me, I give him money, yes?” The man waved his arms at Derrik, hoping for some kind of resolution to stop the madness. It was true about the backing though, without brainwashing this fool I would have got nowhere. You see Hoq was my main investor; he funded my TV shows, Books, and DVD releases, plus the bandwidth for my website. He was an asset I could not lose. “Arghhh!!!” Derrik fell down. He was now in full spastic mode. He span around in circles, foaming from the mouth and created a dusty cloud while on the soil from the erratic movements. Hoq stayed for a few seconds watching Derrik like this and then made off. “He Crazy!” Hoq could be heard saying. Hoq ran off in the direction behind the the weapons factory, where there were also about 50 other turq-shirts hiding. Hoq’s only mistake was that he wasn’t that good at listening to us, and our rules for that matter. This would lead to his most unfortunate death. Instead of hiding in the weapons factory, Hoq made an attempt to escape through the fence on the far north side. There was an apple tree back there just by the weapons factory, and some landmines. Derrik loved his fruit, so upon moving to Pikestown placed an apple tree on the camp for only him and no one else. Not even me. The landmines were to warn off local Mexicans kids who’d used sneak into the camp and steal apples for themselves and their poor shanty town families. Sure enough, a couple of days after the first landmines were placed down we heard our first big pop. All that was left was a part of a leg, so luckily for the landmine victim he/she must have survived. And so it would be, hopefully, that other would-be scavengers wouldn’t dare come back for fear of the same. Hoq didn’t know of the landmines, so on running onto the apple tree patch got the same as the child who’d lost their leg. But this wouldn’t be the same. It seemed that Derrik had become too overprotective of the apple tree, probably because of a paranoid madness lurking in the back of his mind. Derrik had overloaded the land where the apple tree was with too many land mines. When the first landmine was triggered by Hoq Mansu, about 50 others went off simultaneously, and shrapnel sprayed over the near-by area. It was a chain reaction with fatal consequences for more than just Hoq Mansu. The shrapnel sprayed over the weapons factory and kaboom! The factory and those inside would surely perish. The heat triggering the popping of bullets on shelves and explosions from the gunpowder which was all over the weapons factory. Those inside the factory stood no chance. Out of the 40-50 souls inside, only two made it out as bullets sprayed the factory and flames engulfed it. The two that did make it out had suffered enough from what I could see. They dragged each other away from the factory, and dropped to the floor, skin hanging off from the flames, and holes from the bullets all over their bodies. It was seeing the colour turquoise from their shell-suits burning into the flesh which brought tears to my eyes. I came out of hiding and so did Steve. Together we would take Derek down. We ran up behind him as he watched the camp in chaos, with flames and black smoke filling his view. He wasn’t sad, instead he laughed, laughed at the death of his beloved turq-shirts. “In honour of my comrades I laugh” Derek said, a second later Doctor BloodSteve took him down. With my help, and a couple of the turq-shirts we pinned him as madness spread in the form of panic around the camp. The turq-shirts and film crews headed for the south side of the camp, the safe area behind the palace in the forest land. Suddenly the flames spread through the air. “Oh my god!” Steve screamed, “The film, it’s in the barn. The fucking reels, everything we’ve shot. The Barn is catching alight!” A strong gust of wind had spread the fire to the thatch roof of the barn, in seconds the fire would engulf every part of barn number one. Luckily a young, fit turq-shirt ran in and collected the reels at my request, he went in, again and again collecting more and more, until the fire must’ve killed him The film reels were left on the porch of our 50-story mini-palace. It was just three of us, me, Derrik and Steve. We looked on at the mini-palace, ignoring the chaos to the left of us. The fire would finish off Barn number two later, but what was to happen next bewildered and shocked everyone. Miguel was conscious again, before us, we all saw him and the next moment he was gone. The mini-palace, the okrabana, our home was destroyed by what looked like a controlled demolition or something. “Oh shit!” screamed Steve as the building came tumbling down. The shock echoed around the camp, everyone was scared and feeling vulnerable, even me. Nothing added up, the building could survive fire damage but it wasn’t even touched by the fire. There was a conspiracy in our own camp against its leaders.   (this'll be my last post for a couple of days, don't wanna be posting too often cause it get's boring) nondisclosed_email@example.com (knights)Sun, 22 Jan 2006 11:26:38 +0000 Re: Truth in Lies 3: Hell comes to Pikestownhttps://bthedeadtalkdeadrekindledforums.runboard.com/p2508,from=rss#post2508https://bthedeadtalkdeadrekindledforums.runboard.com/p2508,from=rss#post2508The old keymaker would vex me no more, but the same could not be said of his family which fast approached me. Shanji Aji spoke first: "What do you get when you cross Okra with a nazi action film?" Hoq Mansu then added: "You get death of productive worker. Boss should wipe his face sometimes, too." Matzi Ube delivered a sharp kick to my chest. It hurt quite a bit, but I couldn't help but think that I deserved all of it. The old man was dead because of me. Joe had pushed me into this, but I had finished it of my own volition. Doctor Bloodsteve had been my intended target, but the attempt on his life had gone terribly wrong. "Why you hit bossman" said Hoq Mansu, pulling Matzi Ube away from me. This was apparently some sort of family business that must be settled. "He deserve it" responded Matzi Ube. "Maybe he shoot you too" said Hoq Mansu. Shanji laughed and was then rewarded with a slap by Hoq Mansu. "You hit me! But I did nothing" said Shanji. "That right, you did nothing" said Hoq. "Because you stupid. You one who forgot to finish audiotape English lesson that explain plural and contraction. Now where we are?" "Why you blame me? Kung Fu X2 not help either. He not return paperwork for our highpay tech jobs" responded Shanji. Matzi punched Hoq in the face. Hoq fell to the dust unconscious. "I not cause us to be here in Lizardtown" said Matzi. "I fight lizard with his own style: LIZZARD FIST!" Hoq abruptly stopped his kinsmen: "No lizard here! You drink koolaid with Pike and Okra! Why you not use lizard style to get family wages from evil camp warlord?" "Manny, I don't like where this is going" I said quietly, hoping the Mexican wasn't sleeping again. It seemed that he must be doing that very thing. I had not forgotten that his name isn't Manny, but I had intended to do change his name as a tribute to Scarface. No one knew this, save for Joe and he didn't care for the classic film. Matzi turned to me, but I was too quick for him, as my life was hanging in the balance. I grabbed the gun and managed to fire as he leapt into the air. The martial arts practitioner was killed instantly. Hoq would get a bullet, too.nondisclosed_email@example.com (abaddon1215)Sat, 21 Jan 2006 22:31:02 +0000 Re: Truth in Lies 3: Hell comes to Pikestownhttps://bthedeadtalkdeadrekindledforums.runboard.com/p2507,from=rss#post2507https://bthedeadtalkdeadrekindledforums.runboard.com/p2507,from=rss#post2507Things were taken out of context and it was my lack of understanding of what a metaphor is that led to Derrik, telling Manny, a nickname for Miguel to shoot me. The problem with animal theory was that it was a comparison between human and animal instincts originally, but I felt it needed some spice (fiction) to keep my readers from feeling apathetic or bored. Thus, I added that that the more powerful the animal, the more chances that it picks up the reptilian state of mind from it owners, like presidents and kings and so on I turned away from the gates and didn’t know that I being filmed by Steve for the movie. Looking back at the crews’ faces I could tell they could see through the nonsense that the animal rights protesters lapped up. Moving passed them I felt it right that I and the crew needed time away from each other and to be honest the film was mostly finished so couldn’t care too much anymore. I knew I could trust Doctor Bloodsteve, he was a genius. He’d soon hire some Mexican peasant to play a half decent version of me.  Time had been strange while playing a faux version of me, and acting in a faux version of what actually happened. It had been fun, but Derrik seemed wary of my motives behind the movie. Steve had secret meeting with me before we started and I told him that the movie must stay well clear of the “Ghost” subject. Maybe it was the secret meeting, the topic of it and the fact that Derrik had become a total control freak of late, insisting that it was his and Joe’s movie. I told him the film “would be a joint project,” this seemed to upset him. I think he knew of the meeting and that Margot and Joe weren’t spirit guides in the film but friendly invisible Reptilians. I walked up to the mini-palace and from behind Derrik shouted his order to Miguel, “Shoot this cornholder,” he said. Miguel who was lying in the swing chair on the porch got up. “Huh? What does yah want Mr Okra?” He replied. Derrik walked away from the rest of the crew and towards Miguel, “Kill the cornholder!” It was now that every one of the crew, the turquoise shirts and the animal rights protesters scattered not knowing who a bullet was meant for. “Who dat?” Miguel replied dumbfounded. Derrik walked up the porch steps angrily, grabbed a rifle from the rack and pointed to whom he meant as the cornholder. From a distance it looked like a Yoko, or some other ape but it wasn’t. Kan Waski had been warned by Derrik before in the gun factory, and Derrik had threatened the old man before, saying “You’re too old, and would be better off dead.” Poor Watski had already screwed up once yesterday, wandering on to the set of the movie and coming in shot while we filmed another Underground scene in the barn. It meant a reel of film was wasted and the scene had to be filmed again. Derrik attacked him then and his stress levels rose as he had to re-shoot a scene involving Courtland Elliot, which went on for ages. The camp looked empty; everyone was hiding, but senile old man Watski stayed outside walking about in circles talking to himself, cradling his sore head in one hand from Derrik’s beating yesterday. He was a turquoise man doomed. “I won’t do it,” Miguel said defiantly. “Okay, don’t. Take this then,” Derrik smashed the butt of the rifle into Miguel’s forehead. Miguel then lay unconscious from the blow, but still alive. Just like Jim Jones at Jonestown, there’s was a peak to madness that left many dead. Would it happen now? Derrik stormed forth with the rifle held with military precision. Watski still walked in his circles, now gibbering like a fool. I stayed well back and as Derrik ran towards Watski took my chance to hide. I ran into the bushes near the shower block. Also hiding there were a dozen crew members, two or three turq-shirts and Steve. We all watched as Derrik went mad on the little ape man. “Oh my god!” Steve whispered to me. “What is it?” I asked back. “He looks like the key maker from The Matrix film.” “Oh yeah” I replied, not caring for Steve’s appreciation of Movies that only served to Hollywood-ize the truth. Now standing next to the man Derrik held the rifle to Watski’s head. The little ape man now knew of the presence of Okra. “Preaassee! Don’t k-k—ill me.” Watski was terrified, begging on his knees. “I’m afraid Mr Watski, you’ve failed the tests. It’s natural selection here. If we let every Jap into our camps we could lose the war. Your skin will be used for lampshades in the SS offices in Berlin and Treblinka.” Derrik replied? This was a classic case of spirit guide possession, where the spirit guide possesses the hosts body and thinks it’s actually in there original time zone. For Joe, he thinks this is Nazi concentration camp. Suddenly, as he was about to kill Watski, Derrik/Joe began to spasm and dropped down onto the dry sandy surface of the camp. This was a sign that Derrik was taking control of his body. Derrik/Joe began to foam at the mouth. After a couple of minutes he picked up the rifle and shot poor Kan Watski. Upon hearing the shot, Watski’s relatives, also turq-shirts, jump out from hiding. Each of these had different ways of calming Derrik/Joe down from a murderous rage, Shunji Aji was a bit of a comedian, Hoq Mansu liked to talk business and Matzi Ube like to use Martial Arts. Derrik/Joe would have their fate in his hands. nondisclosed_email@example.com (knights)Sat, 21 Jan 2006 11:07:50 +0000 Re: Truth in Lies 3: Hell comes to Pikestownhttps://bthedeadtalkdeadrekindledforums.runboard.com/p2506,from=rss#post2506https://bthedeadtalkdeadrekindledforums.runboard.com/p2506,from=rss#post2506So Dave's unexplained love for the Fergal now came to bear, as Fergal's brother avenged the idiot. "Dave," I said as Connor tried to strangle my friend, "now we get to do a scene of you killing Fergal's brother. For the sake of entertainment, we'll let the spearchuckers off the hook." The fight had turned into a strangling contest, now it began to look like some kind of weird, leader-less dance as they tussled about. I didn't know Fergal too well, but I had borrowed the clothing from his dead body. This might make us brothers, but would I want to kill Dave if it were so? "F*CKING SPEARCHUCKERS" yelled Dave and went at the fight with renewed strength. Connor would lose soon. "You said spearchuckers" said Connor, suddenly unsure of what was happening. "It was the spearchuckers that killed your brother" I said. "We followed them along the tubes and killed them. Or should I say Dave did. He's going to kill you, too, because he's got the wiry strength of a total maniac." "If you live" said Dave "you might carry this message to the world: We no longer negotiate. We only stomp lizards as we find them." I broke in again, because Dave needed positive reinforcement: "Boo-yah. Well said, David." I thought about this for a second. We had the upper hand here. Connor was already in the film, so he wouldn't be needed again unless Doctor Bloodsteve fudged Connor's scenes. It would be prudent to get Connor onto our side. Then I must do what I do best. I placed the back of my hand to my cheek(face) and began my charade. "Tis me, Fergal. How you Connor. I see you attack my Davie. Why?" I almost broke into laughter as I said the words my Davie. It worked. Conner looked like he had seen a ghost as I spoke. Unfortunately, Dave was taken in by my charade as well. "I'm ready for Oprah, Davie." Dave almost freaked, while Conner seemed bewildered. "No" said Conner. "We won't let her use you again on her show. Listen to this, mates. The last time we were on Oprah's show she introduced Ferg as a college professor that snorted drugs, and I was shown as his brother, the child molestor." Conner, unknowingly, was now inducted into our club. I could use this man to watch Bloodsteve as the film was edited. I pretended to become aware again and Dave explained that the Stot's had been totally misrepresented by Oprah. So filming would continue, though the sh*t was getting deep. Outside again, Dave began assaulting the protestors with a speech: "Animals were created by the Reptillians. Created to control us." Someone threw a MacVomitBox at Dave. It missed the mark, splashing sickly behind him. "The animals have more advanced speech than we do. They hear things that we can't, because they require security in messaging." The crowd was suddenly very silent. Dave was playing to their love of animals. "They have a collected mind, with a singular goal-to shepard man. They have seen all of our great moments and all of our tragedies. Animals watched as tax enforcers flew airliners by remote control into your World Trade Center and Pentagon. Having seen everything men have done, the animals have increased their wisdom and knowledge. They know that professional boxing is fake because they can smell the competitors. The competitors are robots, programmed to win and lose as decided by Jews. The animals can smell them and they can see into the boxers' crude mechanical eyes." Many of the people in the crowd were nodding in approval, and some were even yelling their approval. Dave was eating this up. It's really too bad that the world would end soon. I noticed that Bloodsteve had appeared with a crane to film this. It was just a regular crane, this time, but we would see about that. I had scheduled a few hours, before the cataclysm, for interrogating the doctor of film and then retrieving the real Nazi crane. The purpose of the Nazi crane would be kept secret until there was no other choice. By then, no one would be able to stop me. Dave kept going: "Animals have seen Tony Blair lie to the elderly. They have seen the elderly being forced to eat their pet's food and the animals do not easily forgive this. But their hatred is rightly directed at the man responsible. Animals have watched people kill their unborn children, because the 'timing wasn't right' or 'it prevent them for some period of time from being sexually active with multiple partners.' Perhaps pregnancy made them look fat, and that to look fat could never be allowed. A lady must look her best to attract a rap superstar." The crowd were really getting into this. Joe began to sing some song in his native tongue. I knew not what it was, but it sounded very triumphant. I was proud, too. "Animals let us put them in cages, because for them the cage is freedom. They see the bars, with us on the other side, and say THAT is the cage. They have seen Pokeman and know that it is all bullsh*t. The animals have seen Wal-Mart from afar and aren't impressed. Prices aren't the biggest concern for our genetic cousins, nor is quality important. But being there is priceless. They don't destroy cities after soccer games-win or lose, mostly because they don't care. If a BBC talking head mauls the hell out of a retired player, it's okay, because you've got to consider the source. Animals have also seen George Bush, and, like you, they hate him for being rich. Secretly, the animals suspect that WMDs will be found one day, but only after Bush is out of office. The Bush family dog will watch the former President upon his hearing the news, and the dog will see Bush laugh and cry at the same time. The animals know that Bush knows, deep inside, that he is an evil rich man and that he hates all black people for simply being black." After this, Dave's speech, Bloodsteve yelled "CCCCCCUUUTTTTTTTT and do one more take!" There was only one thing left to do. "Manny-" I said, "shoot this cornholder. Then distribute his body in the turquoise-shirt's food."nondisclosed_email@example.com (abaddon1215)Sat, 21 Jan 2006 05:28:31 +0000 Re: Truth in Lies 3: Hell comes to Pikestownhttps://bthedeadtalkdeadrekindledforums.runboard.com/p2505,from=rss#post2505https://bthedeadtalkdeadrekindledforums.runboard.com/p2505,from=rss#post2505The past two days had been hectic, but also strange knowing of the coming apocalypse. We’d worked our arses off filming scenes for the movie about me and Derek and today would be no acceptation. It was a musky grey morning, and the rest of the crew, which consisted of mainly turquiseshirts were already out and ready for the shoot in the barn. I had hardly slept, yesterday was hell. We had filmed although the night, shooting three scenes. The scenes were mostly interior shots which were filmed in a sleeping barn that was supposed to replicate the London Underground. The film was a biopic of the two of us, from Derrik’s first encounter with ghosts, to my ridiculing on the Sir Larry Wogan show. The last scene we filmed last night went on for hours and was the death ritual of the vulnerables incident at Clapham common by Freddie Murcury, Elton John and hundreds more of the world’s elite. Amazingly we found Mexican look-a-likes for both the Elton and Freddie characters. Bloodsteve also hired several hundred poor Mexican peasants from a local mud hut community. We filmed the scene behind the mini-palace, in a flat wooded area in the small piece of forest land which was just inside the camp parameters. Surprisingly, Doctor Bloodsteve had stayed true to what actually happened, making sure that everything looked right. He even had several of the turq-shirts make him a giant blender. Unfortunately the peasants playing the venerables who’d die in the blender died You see we didn’t have any of money for the CGI so we had to shoot in real-time and the people inside the blenders were chopped to pieces. What the hell does it matter anyway, they will all be dead anyway I thought, just to hide my dark guilt. Steve said that it added “Realism to what actually happened, yah”. It was their third day and they we still there, outside the gates holding banners and screaming at us. Some had heeded my words in lectures I gave to them and joined the camp, working in the weapons factory or helping on the set of the movie. The other die-hard types wouldn’t give and heckled everyone in the barn during film yesterday. The more extreme elements of the protesters joined the turquoise temple only later to entirely stop filming for a few hours by setting fire to the barn. Thankfully these arseholes were rooted out by Miguel and Alvarez, and shot, which stopped other faux infiltrators from doing the same. Miquel and Alvarez kept order while we filmed our first scene of the day, simply entitled in the script “Fergal”. We were all ready to begin and Fergal was to be played by a Turquoise-shirt called Connor. The film would slant the truth slightly. We soon began shooting from the script. -- BloodSteve directed his orders at us, “Okay, in one, two and three and action” *Down in the Underground* Derrik: Oh my, look. Look Dave, it’s a poor idiot boy. Dave: Yes, a victim of the illuminati I’d say. Fergal: Please sirs, I’ve been down here for weeks, the big nasty man..he came and kidnapped me. He make me work, er…as a prostitute, a rent-boy. He killed my family and sold me to a lord who bummed me repeatedly. I was carted off to the house of Lords and they bummed me too, as with the senate, same there too…Repeated bummings and horrible icky pain. Derrik: A victim of the Illuminati that’s for sure. This poor, innocent young man has been corrupted by those sick bastards. Dave: Yeah, sick bastards. Fergal: You say the illuminati? Dave Yes, the sick bastards. *Fergal starts to cry* Fergal: I know of them. They are the lords, MP’s and the senators. Derrik: Oh my, Margot tells me this young man has a bad vibe about him. We must stay clear of him Dave. As I said, corrupted. *Dave grabs Derrik and throws him against the wall, Derrik then falls down onto the tracks* Derrik: What the hell? Dave: This young man holds the key. He can expose his abusers, and with our help we nurse him back to health. He could also take part in the book. Derrik: Okay, very well. *The three of them are walking through the underground. Suddenly, a whole squadron of men in black suits appear with large bazookas* Man In Black #1: We told you not to talk and we told you what would happen if you did so. Man In Black #2: Yeah! Dave: You’re all pathetic. Is this justice? What happened to love? Man In Black #2: Shut it imbecile. We see and hear everything! EVERYTHING! Man In Black #1: Okay, let him have it boys. This human was too stupid. *Dave and Derrik vault back away from Fergal, who explodes into a thousand pieces as the the bazooka rounds from six of the men in black explode on impact with Fergal* Derrik: Jesus…damn it. Man In Black #1: Your Jesus won’t save you. We will go now but be warned, we see everything. EVERYTHING! *The Men in Black disappear* …Scene wraps… Okay so it wasn’t exactly what happened down on the underground but no one was to know. We all scattered for a break. Me, Derrik and Connor went inside the mini-palace for a celebratory drink. Scott wouldn’t be celebrating anything though because he knew the truth of Fergal’s demise. “I’m Fergal’s brother by the way,” he then launched himself at me in an unprovoked attack. nondisclosed_email@example.com (knights)Fri, 20 Jan 2006 08:12:27 +0000 Re: Truth in Lies 3: Hell comes to Pikestownhttps://bthedeadtalkdeadrekindledforums.runboard.com/p2504,from=rss#post2504https://bthedeadtalkdeadrekindledforums.runboard.com/p2504,from=rss#post2504Bloodsteve had revealed himself to be Uwe Boll. I wasn't shocked because I'd never heard the name Uwe Boll before. Amazingly, his wife and financial adviser(two people) had found out about his exile to Piketown/Okracabana/Anti-Reptillian DMZ. They knew him very well, so they had surmised that he would be working on some new project...without them. So they parachuted in to make sure that they would partake in the financing of the auteur's next production, but they would be mistaken, because it's my Nazi gold and my production. Unfortunately, he had not revealed any information about the Nazi Crane, but he did promise Nazi gold. With this gold, I would then force him to build the Nazi Crane. Nevertheless, we had found another crane, and, if necessary, we could convert it's political beliefs to Nazi-ism. Dave's presence seemed to agitate the large group of people that had gathered outside the fence. These people were obviously animal rights degenerates, and they were in for a few bad days. I would challenge their shock threshold soon enough as Bloodsteve would film the opening scene of my movie: Most Of The Living Dead. Bloodsteve said we should choose a temporary title(to discourage media leaks), but I thought Space Invaders 2K6 sounded a bit too strange. He also said he could provide a fake script, storyboards, and a first print of the film, if I paid him 15 million EU bucks. This suddenly didn't sound fake, and I told him that it was too much effort. It would help us if the media knew of the blood that we were unleashing in the real film, one which didn't entitle royalties to David Hasselhoff. "Derek, we have a problem" said Dave. "MI5 and CIA are in the camp, undercover. And there's poo in the river-it's a sign." A shock. It must be a lie of some kind, because nothing seemed out of place. Work was progressing. Our friends in the desert were pleased with our efforts. The turquoiseshirts were always obedient. I would deal with this quickly: "PETA is the poo in our river, and so is Foxnews. Don't you know that those animal rights clowns bring their animals with them? Those animals poo, and the poo is placed in the river. That's ethical to PETA, because they are evil morons. And I think I know how to deal with those intelligence agents." "They are closing in" Dave said, more disturbed than ever, "and I don't see a way out for us. The Iranians didn't say how many were here." "Oh no" I said. "That means that our desert friends are here, too, watching." "Yeah-" continued Dave "-they also need all the weapons by three weeks." Ah, I thought, maybe I wouldn't have to worry about finding new people to replenish the turquoiseshirts, because there wouldn't be anyone left. Suddenly I had a thought.... I pulled Dave away from Bloodsteve, whom was now known to be Uwe Boll and had been asked to be called DOCTOR Bloodsteve: Rock Your Face. We walked away from the fences. Dave looked tense enough to make my idea work. "I've just been thinking" said Dave. "It might be too late, as the world is going to end. But maybe I could get things back in order. Stop my campaign against Reptillians. Perhaps I could rejoin the Green Party." I cut back in as soon as we neared a few turquoise shirts: "Stop talking crazy or you're gonna scare the help." Now I would play the game of international espionage, with no alliances. By doing this, I would insure that no one would walk away, not even China. "WHY DO THE IRANIANS WANT TO ATTACK ISRAEL AND AMERICA IN THREE WEEKS? LET'S GO BACK IN THE HOUSE AND ASK OSAMA." "You stupid f*ck" blurted Dave as I yanked him to the house. "You have just killed us." Dave didn't understand, but it would be clear soon enough. For laughs, I had put Yoko in the house's main entrance. Dave and I wouldn't go back in there, though. Instead, we would rejoin the doctor of film, Bloodsteve, for the making of his last film. Time was indeed running out for us, and I wouldn't waste it with these poeple. I didn't quite believe what the scriptures taught, that Michael of South Carolina and Alex of East of England would survive the end of times. However, the names sounded quite familiar, and if I survived the coming conflict I would deliver turquoise shellsuits to these two haters. My friend was confused now but he followed along nicely. He knew that I could spin a lie with equal or better skill than he could create a conspiracy theory. I had once seen an original draft of his entitled "The Vietnam War Was Actually A Mass Suicide", and I thusly knew that his tangents controlled him. I would see that he could contribute later, but for nor the plan was mine. At the gates, Doctor Bloodsteve was screaming at the animal rights terrorists, who were apparently taking the filmmaker to task: "The film never had a chance. There was too much dialogue. Don't make fun of my people. Tarantino isn't real. He's a group of foley artists that like to drink while writing. It's called Formula One, ya motherf*ckers, and it rules your world." I actual found this funny and didn't move to help Doctor Bloodsteve. As they say, debate is good, and at this time it was good at providing a laugh for me and Dave. But Dave was confused. "He has them beaten, doesn't he?" said Dave. "Yeah. He'll put the nail in the coffin by reciting soccor scores." "What a genius" continued Dave. "I loved House Of The Mad Scientist. It was brilliant symbolism-let me explain it-with a mad scientist and an island, which represents America. We know it's America because naked girls are paid to be there for dancing on a stage. Prochnow, the crown jewel of a great film career, plays the role of a boat captain. He is the German Christopher Columbus, finding America, delivering the kids to the party. It's really a breakthrough role for him." As Dave bombarded me with inconsequential trivia about Bloodsteve's film career, none of which would matter soon, I got very angry. In fact, I had enough time to become bored, pray for death, and get angrier because my prayer was unanswered. But then I remembered that I had been improving myself during these past few months. I had worked on developing a skill for use in times like this. Prayer wasn't necessary to use the skill, but prayer certainly wouldn't hinder the skill. "Bloodsteve, watch me" I said to the doctor of film. I waited for the unseen voice to command me to FINISH HIM! Then I pulled the skin away from my face with one hand in a much-practiced motion, leaned over in front of Bloodsteve's wife and business partner, and proceeded to spit fire all over them until nothing remained of the two but a dark spot on the dirt. Next I put the skin back on my face and regarded Bloodsteve with the sort of indignation one would reserve for an animal that had urinated on the wrong rug. I then said the only thing that I knew to say: "You work for me, a**hole. The movie has changed. It won't be anything like what you were talking about with your underwriters. This time we're gonna make a movie about stuff that matters: Okra and Pike. We won't play vampires, or robots or zombies or any combination of the three. This film will show what Dave and I are all about, and production will be complete within the next three weeks. We also want to discredit Alex and Mike for later." I looked over to Dave. He was beginning to smile. Yoko sat far behind him, clapping. Life was good.nondisclosed_email@example.com (abaddon1215)Fri, 20 Jan 2006 04:36:17 +0000 Re: Truth in Lies 3: Hell comes to Pikestownhttps://bthedeadtalkdeadrekindledforums.runboard.com/p2503,from=rss#post2503https://bthedeadtalkdeadrekindledforums.runboard.com/p2503,from=rss#post2503I turned away now knowing what all this unwanted attention could do to my dream, the dream of Pikestown; The Turquoise Temple. I ran out of the mini-palace at this moment after thinking of the consequences. It was more than just worry, more so a crazy panic. Could the Iranians start their nuclear holocaust here? Would the coalition of Bush and Blair attack at any moment? Would PeTa start million man marches outside the gates of Pikestown? It was thinking about this sort of stuff that drove me crazy in 1991. But at least I had some sort of peace that I relied on from myself and my own ideology. I needed answers to these questions quick. Away from all other life at the camp I needed more time to think, so I went and hid in the bushes and trees near the so-called showers. I rested by a stream that ran through this part of the camp. It was a peaceful place and I’d needed it at this moment of panic, near on madness. Derek had gone mad because Margot was murdered by a mad nazi scientist, for me it was the fear of what could be. Although I had said to my followers that fear wasn’t real and part of the conspiracy to keep us docile and in our places I knew it was real and this moment illustrated that clearly. My problem wasn’t my own though, for years I’d listened to other people and believed everything from the reptilians to the theories on the how Michael Jackson was actually ruler of the universe. I had said to my followers that they were being manipulated but it was actually me manipulating them, mostly, and me the one who had been manipulated more than anyone else. It had eventually made me what I didn’t want to be - the extremist-eccentric guy that was the butt of all jokes (and role-play stories on the internet!). I had claimed I had the answers to the ultimate questions, but they were a mix of other people’s ideas and theories, so in all I’m a phoney and a plagiarist hack. I didn’t have the answer to the question of all questions, and in truth no one does. I suppose it’s something that we’ll find out when we die. I took off all my clothes and walked naked into the tranquil stream passing before me. “I am me, I am free” I whispered under breathe. I looked down at the water to see my reflection and didn’t feel free. I was a man in chains. The followers were no different, and like me had realised it too. Seeing my face reflected in the water made me wish I would have seeked professional when I most needed it, instead I went to a spiritualist who’d told me that I was in fact the son of god and not a crazy fool. I regret being so naïve. All I want now is those lost years, and now I think of what could have been. If I would have had the proper help I could have been controller of sports at the BBCC or something like that. I am now a bitter old man of wasted opportunity and mistakes. The stream was a dumping ground for human waste, so on seeing the turd-logs float past and sensing a nasty pong I fled the stream. I was in no doubt that the turq-shirts had done this on purpose, knowing of my presence at the stream and my state of mind. I lay down at the side of the now pungent stream. Being in there any longer could have meant this difference between life and death. Disease and infection were rife at the camp and with no medical supplies so most that had caught something from the refugee camp-like conditions died within a few days. I pulled out my cell-phone to call the Iranian ambassador for Pikestown. It rang and I had a feeling he wasn’t gonna be best pleased with all the Fox News attention. “Hello?” I said as I got through. “Is that you Mr Pike?” Sounding angry and uptight. “Yes, it’s Mr Dave Pike, from the Turquoise Temple here at Pikestown.” “Mr Pike we have a problem, you and your partners names are plastered all over the newspapers and News Channels. Today, Mr Blair said you and Derrik were part of world evil. Our intelligence says that they may have their intelligence in your camp.” “Huh? Who’s this intelligence guy?” I was confused. “No…You have CIA and MI5 operatives inside your camp. It may be that while you came from the south that they came along with the genuinely foolish people.” “Oh.” Inside my blood was boiling and the anxious panic I felt before had nothing on this. “No Mr Pike, it’s not ‘oh’. Do you understand what this means? The rise of Islamic world could well be stopped because of your negligence and failure to check the people who are in your camp. Our leader is especially angry with you and threatens that your town will be the first to be destroyed, along with the rest Mexico. The plans for the nuclear cleansing of this world have been brought forward by two years, and the attack is planned for the coming three weeks. It will be a time of jubilation for all jihadists who oppose the American way.” “Are you serious?!?!” I replied, horrified. “Yes. The weapons we will be using came from Saddam Hussein before the 2003 invasion and are perfectly capable of destroying all life on this planet three times over. There will be no averting the Islamic way, it is written in the scriptures and will come to fruition, of that I am in no doubt of. There are chances that there will be lone Mad Max’s who survive, but very few. Two of these may survive in locations that include the East of England and the state of South Carolina. I know of this because I read the scriptures and it states of two such Men, Alex and another called Michael” “Oh really, that’s lovely.” I replied, not believing a word of the scriptures part. He continued, “This Islamists will rule the world, Iran will not be touched by any Nuclear weapons, whereas everywhere bar China and us will be burning nuclear smoulder. No one wanted this Mr Pike, but in 1948 your governments to decided to let the Jews steal the Islamic holy land of Palestine. Three weeks, Dave. The world will be a different place, please root out the operatives and stay silent on the coming nuclear apocalypse.” The phone then rang dead and he was gone, but I was horrified. This was the awakening I needed, for it has been the kind of person I had been who was no different to that of the Iranian president and his cohorts. They were extreme and I wouldn’t be so much from now on. I would need to find the operatives and tell them of the plans of the mad Iranians.      I ran back to the mini-palace to find Derrik. He and Steve were just outside the mini-palace filming some kind of advert involving a crane and nazi gold. Looking up at the crane I noticed a plane just above the camp. Two people jumped out and parachuted into the camp, these were Frau Boll, Steve’s wife and Fritz Loob, Steve’s financial adviser. Both were German and Steve soon revealed the truth about who he really was. Just outside the camp at the same time, hundreds of animal rights protesters who’d seen the Fox News report on the Baboon killing held peaceful protests. A few old women heckled me, calling me “Murderer!”, and some help protest banners and signs, yet all this was the least of my worries, considering that the world itself could change in just over three weeks time into a full blown Islamic one. nondisclosed_email@example.com (knights)Thu, 19 Jan 2006 05:32:14 +0000 Re: Truth in Lies 3: Hell comes to Pikestownhttps://bthedeadtalkdeadrekindledforums.runboard.com/p2502,from=rss#post2502https://bthedeadtalkdeadrekindledforums.runboard.com/p2502,from=rss#post2502After Joe finally stopped laughing, I turned my attention back towards Dave. Surprisingly, I was still quite upset with him. All the years of friendship meant nothing. I suddenly felt like Canada, and I would ask the children to greet him with vulgar hand gestures. His books would become my toilet paper. "Those terrorist fellows only want to protect animals because they are too closely kin to them" said Dave. I had to remain careful while listening to him, lest I forget my plans of cinematic capitalism. "They will be released, for all sherriff's answer to the Illuminati. It's in their oath. I have video footage of it. And a dog is masturbated after the spoken portion of the ceremony. It's almost beautiful, but then one can't help but remember the true evil at play." I attempted to intervene before Dave's ramblings caused nausea within me: "We've gotten free advertising, now. They think you're a crazy Brit, like Mister Bean. The American's will come here in droves to see the mad-" "Your monkey is ruining my good name" said Dave. "Even in death! I should have spanked it, instead, but I was angry and might have injured it too badly." "You had no right to touch my monkey, Dave. Now none of this can be taken back." I then walked outside to clear my head. I thought of the PETA group, and how they had managed to see the camp. It was a gross invasion of privacy. Luckily, those people are portrayed as a fringe group with no credibility. Perhaps many people would believe that PETA had set up the whole scene only to promote it's cause. I had heard that PETA wanted animals to be treated "ethically", an agenda that I can hardly understand. Can you imagine a day when an alley cat is allowed to abort it's young in a government facility? This faux-cause is likely a fabrication that the group gladly flaunts, as a plump woman might flaunt a faux-fur coat. PETA might soon demand voting rights for animals, and then all masks will be removed. A fitting revenge for their agenda would be this: I would slaughter animals in my movie. So much animal blood would be spilled, and PETA would be incensed by it! The message would be clear. Leave Okra alone, and when Pike stands beside Okra, leave Pike alone. In order to all this, I would need the Nazi crane, with it's built-in cashbox. Luckily, the film would have enough shock value(will all the animal slaughter!) that advertising wouldn't be a worry. Word about the blood-drenched film would spread across the world and people would line up to see real gore. For years I had sold the promise of horror without actually delivering, but this time I would have a script. Someone would have to write that script, obviously. I would also have a budget. The Nazi crane. And Bloodsteve: RYF, with his new balls-out style of action. I felt better again. John was still dead, but I felt I could go on. Unfortunately, I don't like Yoko's chances of surviving my film. She wouldn't be missed around the camp.nondisclosed_email@example.com (abaddon1215)Thu, 19 Jan 2006 04:44:56 +0000 Re: Truth in Lies 3: Hell comes to Pikestownhttps://bthedeadtalkdeadrekindledforums.runboard.com/p2501,from=rss#post2501https://bthedeadtalkdeadrekindledforums.runboard.com/p2501,from=rss#post2501I smiled and smiled some more, then I turned to Dave to say "how does it feel to be part of the axis of evil?" I could smell his fear. He had shot my baboon, my John. Since then, Yoko had been inconsolable. I could feel that the camp might not listen to my film idea. So I would have to plan in secret, but it wasn't unusual for films to be made secretly. A question to self: how do I make a film in camp without the participants knowing it? "Go pre-emptive on Dave" said Joe. "Break his stupid neck. Cross his rhine. Blud deisen hunde." It was hard to argue against this, despite numerous years of friendship with Dave. I imagined myself blowing his mind out in a car. The thought comforted me, and that happiness was like a warm gun. Still, I would get by, but with a little help from my friends. And so far, Dave Pike had been a friend....to me, not to John. Yoko wouldn't like him anymore. Obviously. ----- Suddenly, there was A FOKSNUDES ALERT on the television screen: "This is David Asthma with a Fox News Alert. Breaking News! Animal rights terrorists have just released video of a British national executing what appears to be a baboon. Reports are just coming in, but according to various sources, the Brit is Dave Pike. Pike was a politician in his native country, but fell from grace into a cauldron of total insanity. This guy wrote the notorious book that compares the 9/11 Attacks to the children's novel Alice In Wonderland. Really! We have a guest here to provide commentary: Judge Andrew Neopolitan. Judge, what do we make of this?" Insert video footage of Dave slaughtering my favorite pet. Judge: "Well, David...this appears to be an overt act of animal cruelty that was conducted in plain sight of a camera." Asthma: "Yes. There is no doubt that this Pike slaughtered the animal. Could there have been some sort of reason for this? Perhaps the animal was intended for food." Judge: "Regardless of what is done with the animal, this is a clear violation of cruelty laws." Asthma: "Isn't that a bit severe? The victim was an animal, not a person." Judge: "Funny you should say that David. If that footage were taken in an Iraqi prison-" Asthma: "Wait a minute, Judge. We've just gotten a statement from Pawl Meccardny. Let me see if I've got it straight....the ex-Animals bass player says, and this is a quote: 'Spare no megatons in destroying those motherf*ckers.'" Judge: "Hah, hah. What does that mean?" Asthma: "I'm not sure. It may be some kind of 'shout-out' to his 'homeboys'. It certainly doesn't sound like a 'word' to his mutha." Judge: "No, you're right. I really loved that song they did some thirty-five years ago, 'We Have To Get Out Of This Place'." Asthma: "We're now getting word that the animal rights terrorists have been arrested by Sherriff's Deputies in Alabama. Apparently they are being charged with Peeping Tom." Judge: "Is that right?" Asthma: "I guess so. Peeping Tom." Judge: "Imagine if we hadn't caught them." Asthma: "We have FoxNews' Studio Beta host Sheppard Smiff in Tuskaloospa, Alabama with a report." Rude Cut-In By Other Host: Shep: "Yeah. We're being told that the terrorists are inside the Sherriff's Department building concocting wild stories while waiting for their ACLU representatives to come in and tell them to shut up. As you know, PETA(that meaning People for the Evil Treatment of Americans) was suspected by the FBeye to have been conducting operations in the hurricane and flood ravaged portions of the Cracker Barrell. Excuse me, I meant to say Gulf Coast region, not Cracker...nevermind. As you know, this area has suffered a lot of devastation in a short period of time, and much of the damage may never be repaired. So these terrorists come in and enjoy free reign." Asthma: "Rebuilding is already underway in much of the area though." Shep: "Yes, that's what the president said numerous times. New Orleans is being renamed Lake Trash. Mardi Gras will be held this year, despite the fact that sewage still covers the walls of many homes. But the governor and the mayor agree that the best way to rebuild this area is to get everything back to normal as quickly as possible." Asthma: "But isn't there still a possibility of terrorists lurking in the partly-abandoned city?" Shep: "I don't know. But the National Guard is still here, protecting piles of debris from any sort of attack. The Pentagon has recently said that Operation Escape From New Orleans would remain a top priority for as long as eighteen months." Asthma: "That will be a long road for the people that been displaced by the flooding and hurricane. Back to other news-" Shep: "Hold on a minute, David. I've got something else." The correspondant/host takes a step to the right. Something is on the ground behind him. It has been there the entire time that he's talked. Shep points at the thing. Shep: "A dead body. Look at that. We've seen the freezing point of humanity, David. There's no one around to bury this body. No one." Asthma: "Okay. Well....let's get back to other news." Joe laughed and laughed. The sound rang through my mind so intensely that it made me wince. The best thing about Joe's sense of humor was that it now diverted my attention away from the television.nondisclosed_email@example.com (abaddon1215)Tue, 17 Jan 2006 05:11:05 +0000 Re: Truth in Lies 3: Hell comes to Pikestownhttps://bthedeadtalkdeadrekindledforums.runboard.com/p2500,from=rss#post2500https://bthedeadtalkdeadrekindledforums.runboard.com/p2500,from=rss#post2500My wonderful plan had worked; Steve would participate in my new book, now called “Set free by the dance of one”. I could also now do at fitness DVD with all the dance techniques Connor had taught and of course dedicate it to him. Connor had died, just as Dave Pike had predicted but was laughed at for. He didn’t commit suicide, he just died. I believe he suffered a heart attack, yet he still didn’t leave a very nice scene right in front of the TV set, defecating and peeing all over my turquoise rug, which was given as a present from the Iranian-Pikestown ambassador for arms. Steve wasn’t bothered by the sight of the dead man, the pee and poo. He looked cheerful and ready to take on the world and participate in my new book about being set free by an extraordinary old gentleman named Connor Davis, god rest his soul. The smell was rancid; it was the smell of death and I had to cover my nose upon dragging Connor’s body away with Alvarez to the incineration shack outside. I walked back through the house and saw that Steve was still in good spirits. He’d turned on the TV and was watching the Fox News Channel. I walked straight past him and let him be. Outside once again, I saw that Derrik was up to his old tricks, picking on the turquoise-shirts as he now called them (a take on the nazi brown shirts picked by Joe). This time he pulled out leather whip and began to humiliate two turq-shirts by making them perform some Abu Graib style sex positions on top each other, while whipping their bare backs. “Go on, lick it. Lick his arsehole! Yeeeesss! Yeeeeessss! Go on, stick your tongue right up” Derrik shouted. On seeing the arse licking I walked over to Derrik to demand that he act humanly with turq-shirts, he just stared blankly back at me. I walked away, hoping he understood that what he was doing was utterly immoral. Suddenly I felt a sharp blow to the back of my head and I was down, concussed and out. Miguel had to taken me away from the scene of the violence and back to the mini-palace, it was there he told me of what had happened. I lay on the couch and in pain from the unprovoked attack; Steve was at my side holding a packet of frozen peas to the affected area. “Geeeee, Mr Pike I don’t know how to tell you this,” Miguel was hesitant in saying. “It was Derrik.” I jumped up; the blood was pumping, boiling. He was a friend. Derrik hit me? “Derrik f*cking hit me, Dave Pike, me! How could he. He’s been my best friend for thirty odds years and he’s never hit me.” I was outranged. Miguel cut in. “He didn’t, it was John”. “Who’s John?” I replied, angrily. “The baboon. Mr Okra ordered John to attack you.” With that I stood up and headed outside, grabbed a rifle from the porch and walked towards the baboon that hit me. John & Yoko were both grooming each other, but I aimed without a seconds thought and hit John in the forehead. He fell backwards, clasping Yoko’s hand as he slipped away from life. Yoko started wailing like she’d lost the love of her life, but I didn’t care. Unknowingly, I had a copy of The Catcher In the Rye in my pocket the whole time. That seemed weird, but just a coincidence. It would teach Derrik a lesson, that you don’t f**k with Dave Pike. I was lucky that Derrik didn’t see it, but he’d soon know. There was applause from the turq-shirts, who felt the blows of John like me. It was then that Derrik came onto the scene and I walked away, back to the mini-palace. At the entrance of the sleeping barns Derrik cradled the now dead John, and Yoko kept wailing. I was on the porch looking out; they were right in front of me, about 20 metres away. I turned and reflected on what I’d done. It was at this moment I saw some outsiders at the gate holding a video camera filming the commotion. Who were they? Then I saw the words PETA written on their T-shirts. They fled as I aimed my rifle at them. I knew they’d try and bring Pikestown down with their tape of the murder so called out Miguel, who sat with Steve and Alvarez in the front room watching the news. “Miguel! Miguel!” I cried. He soon came running out, this time in a mood. “What is it?” “We have animal rights extremists filming the camp; they’ve gone now, towards Becola town. I want you to chase them down and kill them.” “Gee, Mr Pike, I don’t know.” “You do know and you will. You will murder them like dogs, I say. They could bring this camp down, and if it’s brought down you don’t get money to support you and your mud hut family” This clicked with him, it was sort of emotional blackmail but he should just do his job and not question my orders. “Okay, will do Mr Pike.” With that he collected a rifle and headed towards the gate and out. I walked back inside and squeezed next to Steve and Alvarez on the couch. I deserved a break and tipped my head back for a micro-sleep. When I awoke up there was huge tension in the room. Derrik had come inside and sat down on an Ikea style chair, sitting the wrong way round on it and giving me the the evil eyes. I just looked past him and watched the telly, not expecting what was going to happen next. Fox News was showing live events from a peace summate in Japan. The leaders of the most developed and wealthiest countries were standing on a podium when the leader of the summate Tony Blair took to the stand for a speech on world evil. No doubt it would involve Iran, but Pikestown? No. Derrik turned towards the TV when our names were called out along side Osama Bin Ladin, Kim Jong Ill and the Iranian president. It was then that Blair started attacking Pikestown, Derrik and Me. I’d now wished that Jean-carl Henge would have killed him. nondisclosed_email@example.com (knights)Mon, 16 Jan 2006 20:56:21 +0000 Re: Truth in Lies 3: Hell comes to Pikestownhttps://bthedeadtalkdeadrekindledforums.runboard.com/p2499,from=rss#post2499https://bthedeadtalkdeadrekindledforums.runboard.com/p2499,from=rss#post2499I watched Dave lead Connor into the house(hotel and casino). Bloodsteve Rock Your Face would now know torment beyond my comprehension as the regionally displaced Connor dances his way into Bloodsteve RYF's psyche. Dave insists that Connor has some sort of powers. He told some sort of story about a martyr dance, but I fell asleep during the telling of the story. And I dreamt of my camp. And my workers(turquoise shirts). But now I knew that Bloodsteve would either sink or swim. These are the only two choices. If he didn't buy into Dave's line of weirdness, then he would surely exit the house screaming. "Bloodsteve is important for your camp" said Joe, in my mind. Sure, no one else could see or hear Joe, but he exists. If I were making this up, I would've omitted his obnoxius german-robot style of speaking. I actually find his voice quite comforting. "He can do bullet-time" Joe continued. "You'll need this for promoting your camp. That and your television friends. And Foksnudes." "I've heard of bullet-time" I said, much to the surprise of several nearby turquoiseshirts, "but I don't know what it is." "You'll see-" responded Joe "that it's the best kind of action. It puts the audience into the sequence by stopping the momentum of any scene and inducing a spinning effect that disorients audience." I thought about this for a second. I needed an audience. With Bloodsteve's skill I could make the camp great. I would use the man to produce a film. A great film. Since my turquoise shirts were forbidden to display any kind of personality, they would make horrible extras in an ordinary film. So I couldn't make a buddy-cop movie, unless it's Okra And Pike Take Baton Rouge starring myself as a loose-cannon and Pikey as the straight-edged lieutenant who does everything "by the book". Problem is, that book would be something like "Reptiles Raped Doctor Who And The Clone Of Samuel L Jackson". Scratch that. Nor could I try a romantic comedy, because I still remember Dave pouring hot coffee on his genitals. That's not romantic, but I guess it's funny. I can't do a teen movie because there are no teens in the camp. I can't do a sci-fi film because we can't catch the Reptillians in their true form and we have no effects budget to make fakes. If only. I looked around in frustration. The turquoiseshirts were toiling with heavy feet and a continuous workload. This was the usual sight around camp. Our Iranian friends were waiting for guns so that they could kill some infidel somewhere. They had asked if we could make something bigger, because after all the camp is 4-America where all things are bigger and better. I regretted to tell them that we were now focused on streamlining and efficiency, therefore we manufactured only small form factor items. 4-America ain't what it used to be. The only goods similiar to old 4-America items come from Canada, where big, clunky, and partially-paid-for-by-taxes is the rule of the day. The Iranians were strangely benevolent in the deal, saying Trust us-the weapons are 4America. It was a very kind statement which I may yet use in advertising. "Make a zombie film, for crying out vehrsteppt" said Joe angrily. And suddenly I saw that my turquoiseshirts would be the cast, the crew, the Rick James, and the omega of the film. To make them look like zombies, I could cover them in the United Nasians-provided GrainRation that is served by our kitchen everyday! I would also give them MacDogLegs with Reekin'Sour Sawz to approximate that look of any limbs the cretins might want to munch on. Thankfully, this means that our existing kitchen staff would simply serve the vittles outdoors on the turquoiseshirts(henceforth called Turqs), thus the hashbangers become the effects department. Institutional Food Service And Magic, I would call them, but one would need to ask for seconds to get the magic. Because that's extra, as our resources are limited. I would need to coordinate the kitchen staff; Kipper, Nuttell, and Burger could then decide which hot vat of oat substance to pour onto which group of Turqs. Joe giggled deliriously, and I realized that this man must have been some sort of accountant in his life. With Joe in a good mood, he would help me plan this new campaign. And we would march into box offices worldwide, with a new kind of action. I would also use my intricate 25-key stereo portable keyboard to bring sound to the film. The vibrant "beep!" of notes could be timed to any rhythm my finger could tap to. There is also a percussion button on the instrument which I could also use to emulate the presence of another musician. Perhaps, I'd ask someone else to push the button while I perform the film's music. I would figure this out later because I find the creative process so boring. But we needed more. Bloodsteve RYF had mentioned a crane and Nazi money. This Nazi crane would ideally have some sort of gun(for the shot, as B:RYF had mentioned) and a cashbox with money that either doesn't exist, is unclaimed, or something. We would discover the money's status. After we spend it. In Mexico. "You are decieved if you seek a Nazi crane" blurted Joe into my now-luminous psyche. "You don't know" I responded, this time lowering my voice. It's a shame that I now debate one servant while trying to hide said debate from the other servants. If I caught the chance to use the camp Teligraph-Fi world-wide-web service, I would not only contact my people in advertising at the television network, but I would also call the co-host of my ancient television show. She would help set things to the right, so that I could advance unabated to the left. "Shy's Cough" said Joe. I found it comforting that the accountant would drift into nonsense when comfronted by a superior being with a persistant vision of success. At that moment, Miguel stepped out of the hotel and casino. He was crying and had urinated in his pants. Obviously, this cultural neandrethal was unequipped for the homo-erotic dance that Connor unleashed. I gathered that there was partial-nudity, overtones of violence, and a well-thought-out argument for the allowing of abortion all contained within Connor's gentle but important dance. Alvarex would be a problem, though. I would have to fetch the lazy Mexican, for through his constant napping, his sweaty carcass would be useless in fleeing the hotel and casino. Sadly, the alcohol that he drinks for energy has recently began to lose it's effectiveness. So I marched towards the Okracabana/Pikeclub/MostResort with a sense of apprehension and a rising anger that would never allow these people to ruin my plans.nondisclosed_email@example.com (abaddon1215)Mon, 16 Jan 2006 05:00:42 +0000 Re: Truth in Lies 3: Hell comes to Pikestownhttps://bthedeadtalkdeadrekindledforums.runboard.com/p2498,from=rss#post2498https://bthedeadtalkdeadrekindledforums.runboard.com/p2498,from=rss#post2498The last two posts have vanished! Anyways, I'll continue from your last post regardless... Update - This is why the posts were deleted http://com5.runboard.com/bakheva.fannouncements.t315 Steve looked worried, as if this were the moment we’d snuff him out or something. He wanted to leave, I wanted him dead and Derik, well, he wanted him obviously, purely for deviant means of course. In Mexican, I told Miguel and Alvarez to sit on each side of Steve, to give a false sense of imprisonment. Seeing him there as he whimpered and became more and more terrified between the two fat Mexicans on the couch I felt it my duty to cheer him up. An Irish born spiritualist healer & WoMBaMZi dancer called Connor Davis who resides at Piketown, employed to enlighten the followers said just other day that "dance enlightens the soul" of other day. He does this in full African tribal gear, with the turquoise loin cloth and spear included. Maybe this would work, so I walked out while Derik continued to behave as he did sometimes in loopy mode, now calling Steve, BloodSteve Rock Your Face. I found that mostly strange. As I looked out on the porch of our mini-palace home I spotted him automatically, dancing the dance of generations of zulu warriors. He was a travelled man and on each trip to find his own enlightenment he picked many ways to enlighten others, mainly with dance and song. According to Connor, it was while on a the dirt paths of war-torn Sudan he met a wise man called Boo, and Boo proceeded to teach him of the wonders of the dancing of one; A unified mating dance involving two participants. One sits and the other dances erotically, to sway the mood from bad to good. Dwelling the bad energy from one person to another, in all cheering one person up and making the other (the dancer) feel depressed. As Boo taught this dance to Connor, he got depressed and killed himself. His death caused the civil war there and Connor fled, coming to me for work. At Pikestown his whole spiritual dance act goes down well, yet he never performs the dance of one and hasn’t since fleeing Sudan. One dance he was famous the world over for was “la Eiffel tower”, it involved a weird version the famous Parisian can-can and his penis, which he’d stretch to make shapes and buildings like the Eiffel tower, and the face of Tom Cruise. One day at the camp, a gang of conspiratorial turquits (followers) had had enough of “la Eiffel tower” act. Over a period of a week they planned Connor’s death, yet flopped down at the first hurdle after one of the goody-goody followers who liked Connor reported their planned actions to Derik. Derik was furious, ordering an execution of the conspirators that night. Under the cover of darkness, the four conspirators were executed in four different ways. It served as warning to the followers, who were forced to watch as Connor enacted revenge on them personally; Kicking the stool of the noosed man; Axing the head off another whom leant on a chopping block; Tearing a heart out of another man while it still beat; the last died of torture, not from Connor in his vengeful mood but by U2, who’s music had been playing out all night at the camp on large speakers to cloud the sound of death. Watching the men die kept the followers in line and that is what was needed. If they weren’t, the gun supply wouldn’t be ready for the Iranians, who expect a war in weeks. The Iranian president told me that if the guns weren’t ready for shipment by a certain date they’d nuke Pikestown, Mexico with the WMD’s first. This alone was call for some kind of dominance from us onto them. Connor who at 73, enacted murder on the conspirators told me afterwards that he felt “guilty” and couldn’t “dance the same” was on the way out, so maybe I could help him by making him feel depressed by sucking the bad energy away from Steve. Connor would then kill himself, and Steve wouldn’t be so uptight and participate in the new book about him. I called Connor over, shouting in Zulu native tongue. “Wuuuu-Baaaaaaa-a-wuba” As I walked back into the DD mini-palace he followed. I would ask help him to do the dance that Boo taught him, the dance of one. The dangerous dance which would help Steve but ultimately kill Connor. nondisclosed_email@example.com (knights)Sat, 14 Jan 2006 21:55:39 +0000 Re: Truth in Lies 3: Hell comes to Pikestownhttps://bthedeadtalkdeadrekindledforums.runboard.com/p2497,from=rss#post2497https://bthedeadtalkdeadrekindledforums.runboard.com/p2497,from=rss#post2497(Derik) Ah yes, there was a visitor at the gate.... The stranger looked quite familiar, as if I had seen him in a now-forgotten dream. The VOICE then said one word "pure" which meant that this man was okay. I could enlist him as a guard or perhaps employ him in some other menial tasks, such as creating promotional materials. Miguel stood at the stranger's shoulder. The new meat had no idea that Miguel was then in position to own him if I commanded it to be. The stranger began to ramble myself and colleagues scrutinized him: "House of the Steve. I take the Nazi money but the Nazi money isn't real how can you spend Nazi money when there is no Nazi money-film production-tax relief-no catering because it causes lapses in action sequence.." Alvarez and Miguel began to laugh. Dave, of course, listened intently for either a book idea or perhaps some common rhetoric. He had recently co-authored several books alongside me; I had then observed his ability to store fragments of information for later introduction into some work of literature. The stranger kept going and going: "-and I'll need a crane for that shot-" "Sir," I said, "who are you and what do you want? I say unto you." "I am Steve...uhm-Steve Bu..Bu..Bareler. My house was crowded with crocoreptiles." Dave's face changed instantly. "Come into the house, my friend. Tell us of the reptiles." Oh hell, I thought. Dave's idealism wouldn't stop. It's lucky that Miguel & Alvarez find the stranger hilarious. As Dave lead the crazy man away, I gave a glance to Miquel. "Another book" said Miguel. I looked away from Miguel to survey my Turquoise work force. The workers were moving about, but not quickly. Presently, I'd allow them to slowly lumber because seeing them do that is actually quite funny. With every anguished step, they would love the Turquoise more and more until it became part of them. "It seems so-" I told Miguel "-because it's time to do another one."nondisclosed_email@example.com (abaddon1215)Fri, 13 Jan 2006 06:23:18 +0000 Re: Truth in Lies 3: Hell comes to Pikestownhttps://bthedeadtalkdeadrekindledforums.runboard.com/p2496,from=rss#post2496https://bthedeadtalkdeadrekindledforums.runboard.com/p2496,from=rss#post2496---------------------------------  Meanwhile - L.A. Air strip  --------------------------------- There's panic in the air, riotous screams are heard. There are a thousand people on all four sides of an insecure, badly barbed wired fence. A single jet is on the runway. Written on the side of it 'An Uwe Boll Jet'. The jet just sits. On the outside of the jet on its steps sits a bald headed man, clutching his head in his hands, crying. "Mr Boll, we must leave now! They're gonna break down that fence at any bloody minute. We must leave now...Come on, it's over, forget about it...please" The bald-headed man sitting on the jet's steps get up and turns to the frustrated pilot behind him. "I'm Uwe Boll, the Bollster. The spielberg of German Film....How, I'm mean how, how could they.People always believe what a fat man tells them. My movies are cutting the edge, yah? Mr Knowles and his cronies who slate my movies will pay...Let's go....." Uwe climbs aboard and the jet lifts off the runway and into the air. Sometime later-Outside Pikestown, New Mexico "Uwe, what you want is freedom, right?" "Yah, freedom...and no darn american.Yah"  "Uwe, go to Pikestown!" "Freedom there, yah?" "Oh yeah, lots of it. If you're lucky, Mr Pike may allow you to shoot movies there too. Just go." The pilot turns towards Uwe, motioning to get off the now grounded jet and leave for Pikestown "Here's the deal Uwe, I'm not really a real pilot, I'm a member United Nations and for crimes against humanity you have really been killed in an accident. On the release day of your movie Altered Beast, a literal game-to-movie adaptation with bad graphics included, 93 people died in the riots following it's showing across the country. For that Mr. Boll you must pay the price, but you'll live. Live Mr. Boll, under the condition that you are no longer Uwe Boll, German filmmaker and Doctor in the literary arts." The fake UN pilot delves into his pockets and pulls out some paperwork and a new phoney passport. Uwe looks terrible, the career he loves is ultimately over. "This is all you need, STEVE." "Steve, aha. Yah, Steve. Very German..idiot!" "Yes Steve, we know. This was all that was available us. Your full name is Steve Beamer, you were born and raised in Alaska. During that time you were injured in a freak industrial accident, and with your voice-box crushed it accounts for the strange very German sounding voice. You are not Uwe Boll, and not related to Uwe Boll. If anyone says that you remind them of him just say you hear it all the time and have entered many lookalike contests as him. Later today, the media will be told that Uwe Boll is dead, dying in an accident while practicing scenes by himself for what would have been 'your' latest movie, Pong: In the name of Balls & Rectangles." "Dead?" Uwe is shocked. "Yup..dead." The pilot gets up and hands Uwe the paperwork and passport, then reaches down for a bag which inside contains disguises. He opens the jets door and lets Boll out. "Goodbye Steve!" Shouts the pilot from the now sealed up jet. "Yah, bye..." Replies a drained Uwe. The jet goes back into the air and Uwe steadily walks towards the Pikestown camp, unknowing of the evil within. ---------- I couldn't believe it, Derrik had gone through with it. They were all dead, gassed to death in the 'shower' block. They followers dragged the bodies out, two to one carrying the lifeless corpses into the incinerator shack nearby. Derrik calmly walked back towards us, me and the two mexicans who'd just watched him committing acts of genocide on the vulnerables. I didn't want all of them dead, but I didn't want to be dead myself either. Derrik had changed. He was a more malevolent than at any time I had ever known him. Dr megele he claimed, "Had invaded my mind" forcing him to commit barbaric inhuman acts. It was while stuck in the underground that Mengele first came about, after Derrik tripped and banged his head. After that he told me that Margot was murdered by Mengele in a mortal kombat style fight, and Mengele won taking Margot's place as his spirit guide. I was, and am worried for Derrik's sanity. It was like the time that while filming the Most Spooky show for HomeTV that Jacob Hills’ possessed him, and did so for an entire week. Derrik's critic's began to believe in his power after all. For an entire week he (Jacob Hills) walked around shouting his name and telling us he was 42, he could smell us, then moaned about being dead, or as he said "I'M F*CKING DEAD!". That was scary. Somehow I had to Margot back as his spirit guide. Would he cooperate? "Aye amigo! One bald-headed German looking man at the gate. Do we kill him?" Said Miquel. "No." I replied, looking at the poor man and wanting to be an Oscar Shindler of sorts. This man would live. Derek walked ahead towards the gate...I followed suit. ----- All done, finished. Sorry I took so long In posting this but I’m sure you understand. Anyways, laters. My first post was split into four parts cause it was so big just in case you were wondering. nondisclosed_email@example.com (knights)Thu, 12 Jan 2006 20:57:17 +0000 Re: Truth in Lies 3: Hell comes to Pikestownhttps://bthedeadtalkdeadrekindledforums.runboard.com/p2495,from=rss#post2495https://bthedeadtalkdeadrekindledforums.runboard.com/p2495,from=rss#post2495Part 2 of 3 *Suddenly, just as the news anchor retorts the broadcast is cut off, not by the US government but the Pikestown cult. The TV goes from grainy black and white, dots and lines to a promo for the Pikestown cult. In many ways it's like an advert for a luxury holiday resort with images of the followers living happy lives, working with smiles on their faces and children eating ice cream. In the background inspiration music is heard, like something heard on a christian rock CD or some advert. Derrik Okra is seen cuddling his two baboons as they rub his bare chest and Dave Pike is shown in a variety of poses much like Hitler during one of his speeches in Nazi Germany. Dave Pike is shown as a man high morals and strong vigour. Then the screen turns to a follower, kitted out in a turquise shell-suit like the rest of them and sporting a grin. Below the man on the TV screen the text 'Actual Testomy' flashes. The man then begins to talk. "Yah know, many people have been saying some very bad things about Pikestown, but it's very far from the 'Pikestruth'. The truth is that people need to know that they’re the ones who have it wrong and we have it the right way. The words of Mr Pike have given us all an inspiration to lead better lives and this is why we reside here, cause we love Pike and he ultimately loves us. Don't believe what the media tells you, they are all against us and you being happy. They abduct children, shapeshift and eat them - do we? No. The media is controlled by Jewish Bankers...er..I mean Reptilians! Yeah, Reptilians from the 4th Zatos Demension of our Earth. They live off your fear, so beware folks...JOIN US...JOIN US"...Then promo cuts to Pike, the religious figure touching the heads of his followers who kneel down at his feet as he passes them. It then cuts to Pike in front of his home in Pikestown, with Pike sitting on his porch stroking the head of a young boy...The Pikestown broadcast is then cut off and returns to the Fox News channel in the advert break. ------------------------------------------ Present Day Pikestown, Mexico. ------------------------------------------ Dave and Derrik are sitting on the porch as seen in their promo talking about it. John & Yoko, the baboons play about just in front on the dusty lawn in a tire swing hanging from a tree. The followers are seen just ahead walking to and from different workhouses, each wearing the turquise shell-suits. They seem laggy and not motivated. They move slowly, their tired. Each of them donning a frown which tells you that they don't want to be there. One of the followers tires and pauses for a moment, puts his head in his hands and then wipes always the sweat caused by the blistering heat of the hot Mexican sun. In line of the sight of Mr Okra, the man is doomed. As soon as he sees this man being lazy and not working he shouts out in baboon chants to John & Yoko “hoo-hoo-huh”, who on hearing their masters attack call and seeing the tiring man, run ahead and pounce. As well as that Derrik calls out to a couple of Mexican gunmen in the watchtower and points at the man signalling with his hand that the man must be shot. The baboons pummel the man, who is then left like Jared Leto in Fight Club after Ed Norton beats the shit outa him. The Mexicans the shoot the man from the watchtower. The man is dead, blood poors from his neck and he sighs his last breathe with the baboons looking down on him. The followers pass the dead man fearing for their own fate, and so swiftly move onward to where they are headed. "Stupid Idiot, he deserved it" Derrik mutters. "Yeah...just make sure you get some of the fools to clear it up then." Dave replies. "Mr Pike! Mr Pike!" In broken English one of the Mexicans shouts from the watchtower. "More people come essa...More followers of the word of Pike." Derrik gets up and heads towards the gate, just to left of the Pike and Okra house. These people, around 10 or so look happy. Derrik will soon bring the reality of Pikestown to them. Derrik was always a naive man, he did whatever I told him without questioning whether it was right, wrong or true, false and whatever else. I sure as hell like people like that, namely the people who continually read my books. Yeah..those idiots. These idiots at the gates were those ones. I could tell. They all showed up in their own turquoise shell-suit and were clutching my book, the critically acclaimed sham that is "The Grande Secret: The Book That Will Change Your World". Funny though, I never meant for anyone to take it too seriously. These fools would be charged off to the shower room as we all call it; the truth is that it isn't. The block was a gas chamber on the far-side of the camp, hidden away behind the veneer of some trees and bushes. No one on the outside could see it. Derrik said we needed, "To keep the numbers down, and to snuff out the loony ones." This lot were indeed those ones. One of them was a beady-eyed, bearded man who as soon as at the gates began surveying the town (camp) for the 'symbols' of illuminati. His eyes wandered and I noted that he was extremely nervous upon seeing the huge pyramid on the sign above gates. It reads "Pikestown: A place of dreams, and freedom, freedom, freedom" next to a giant logo of a pyramid. Derrik opened the gates, they came pouring up to and gave me congratulations on mine and Derrik's new best-selling book "7/7 The Yorkshire Patsies". The bearded man spoke aloud, and questioned me. "Excuse me my holyness but why the pyramid above the gate?" "It's supposed to be Ironic, mate!" The man stood back, relieved that he wasn't gonna be held by the illuminati and then eaten by reptillians. Derrik came back towards us after talking to the Mexicans in the watchtower, who followed on suit too carrying their weapons. He went in the house and came back seconds later, to get prepared for his new role upon reappearing outside, as the brutal fascist who leaves no one alive. He stood on the porch and put on his cap, with "Most Spooky" emblazoned across, then pulled his revolver out of his badly fashionable pink jogging bottoms. He was Pol Pot, Adolf Hitler and Kim Jong Ill all rolled into one. Strangely though, at most times he was a charming man. Holding the bearded man by the shell-suit top he then kicked the man in the back of the knees, flooring the man instantly. He aimed the gun at beardys head and pulled the trigger. It was followed by screams and wailing from the 4 women who came with him and the men just stood back hoping for resolve. One couldn’t wait and ran off towards the gates, Derrik signalled and he was dead too, hit by a hail of bullets from another mexican in the watchtower. The other eight people were led of in the direction of the showers behind the trees; they were followed by Derrik pointing his gun and the baboons, John & Yoko. I did hope he might spare a couple of the less loony one, yet Derrik had the "Most Spooky" cap on, so then I realised it wasn't likely. He was in the killing mood, especially when he wore that hat. He'll sit and watch through the block windows of the showers and watch these people wretch, scream and the drop, while stroking John & Yoko. I wiped the brain matter from the bearded man off my trousers, got up and observed through the bushes and trees, followed by the two Mexicans from the watchtower, Miguel and Alvarez. nondisclosed_email@example.com (knights)Thu, 12 Jan 2006 20:54:46 +0000 Re: Truth in Lies 3: Hell comes to Pikestownhttps://bthedeadtalkdeadrekindledforums.runboard.com/p2494,from=rss#post2494https://bthedeadtalkdeadrekindledforums.runboard.com/p2494,from=rss#post2494Truth In Lies 3 Part 1 of 3 Fox News host: "Dave Pike, an almost god-like figure nowadays in Pikestown, Mexico is somewhat of a controversial figure in the eyes of ordinary people with tales of murder and human sacrifice surfacing daily. Starting as a tennis player in the seventies, he had an awesome record and played some of the greats, but arthritis stopped him going further at the peak of his career. From there he went on to host many TV shows, including "Pike on Soccer," and "Sportzone Madness". However, as he has said, while on the road with the "Sportzone Madness" covering many a huge sporting fest, and I quote, "I felt and presence, then heard a voice. Problem was though it didn't go away." Instead of going the psyche ward he went to a healer. Big mistake in the eyes of some. The healer told him he was a port and then told Pike to let the voices take control. And they did. Sometime after seeing the healer he reappeared on British TV screens in a one off interview and with Sir Larry Hogan. After the interview he was Laughed at by many as a mad eccentric loon, and soon after released a book "Freedom, Freedom and More Freedom. Freedom is the Way and I'll Take You There. To Freedom That Is". He hoped the book would help redeem him from some of the shame caused by the Hogan TV interview, and it did just that. Despite saying, and I quote again, "President Bush is behind a New World Order, and he along with Cronies are planning something 'big'. It is my prediction that this something big involves wrestlers and your young children, chiefly the controlling of the world's populous of WWF superstars kidnapping small children and sending them on banana boat-rockets to the moon. I predict that this will occur at the beginning of 1994. Trust me" People flocked to him. Some called him the turquoise God, so called after his magical belief in the colour turquoise and his one-piece only outfit, a turquoise shell-suit. Right after the first Freedom book he released another. Called "The Grande Secret: The Book That will Change Your World" it sparked the weirdest conspiracy of them all. The Reptilians; a group of shape shifting reptiles that control the world, apparently and according only to Pike. Pike Sights films such "They Live" and "V" as concrete proof to the Reptilians existence, though the writers say it's "Just Science-Fiction". 10 Books later and Pike has become a very powerful man, with devout followers known as the Touquits following him wherever he goes. More recently in Britain, Pike and his cohort, one Derrik Okra were embroiled in one of the biggest man-hunts in British history after Jean-Carl Henge attacked British PM, Tony Blair. The Schizophenic Henge told the police that "Pike and Okra had ordered me to attack Blair to expose the Reptilian agenda." With Blair near on fatality wounded and clearly human, the police sought the supposed conspirators, Pike and Okra. Fact was they had already figured how to evade the police, and so after three weeks hiding in the tubes of the London Underground finally came out, ran off to the nearest airport to emigrate. At the airport they Hijacked a BA 747 and flew to America, where low on fuel Crashed into an already disaster hit town. In the Deep South, after a huge hurricane the people were vulnerable enough, and some say that this was perfect for Pike to set up a new power-base for his ideas. Claiming "The hurricane was caused by a huge wind turbine/hair-drying device pointed directly down on low lying town", the people, many of whom had lost everything flocked to his speeches and lapped it up with no evidence supporting his claims whatsoever. His support was so strong that he built a church, aptly named "The Turquoise temple" with money supplied for relief effort of the southern town. This concluding, that many of the non-Pike supporters were pissed off and rightly so, and a week after the church was built arson left it a smouldering wreck. Claiming that he "had enough of the hate" Pike and Okra persuaded the followers of the "The Turquoise Temple" to head further south to find peace and Nirvana. That place was Mexico. And so History will state that this is how Pikestown, Mexico came to be. Calling this place a haven of peace is somewhat ignorant in the eyes of some. One is Leroy King, who has stated that it's like some kind of nazi style concentration camp. On the other side we have Mr Okra, by phone. He is the self-professed deputy of "The Turquise temple" and says "It is a place of gum-drop smiles and peace, where freedom is found." Okay, so first we hear Leroy's side of the story, who after losing everything in the Southern hurricanes of August says he was hypnotised and manipulated by the words of Pike and Okra. Alright, glad you could be here today and I hope you like Mr Okra can tell your side of the story. Leroy: I lost my house, my wife, kids- everything. I did have Mr Pike though and he was somewhat of a rock for me at first. Yah' know a comforter. He was all nice and his message was something to rely on when times got hard for me when I was on the streets at night. I was homeless, and had nothing. And so I guess when I had his book "Freedom, Freedom and More Freedom V2" it was something to believe in. And so I sucked it up, without questioning anything. I was stupidly naive" Host: When did you realise you'd made a mistake in your eyes? Leroy: That happened when they shipped us off to Mexico. They forced us though, but I guess we didn't wanna be rude or impolite or anything so just went along with it. Host: What happened In Pikestown? Leroy: A lot of bad stuff went down there. Host: Like what? Leroy: Well for starters there was nothing there at first, it was just a piece of wasteland in-between 5 other places where people lived. So basically we had to build and construct Pikes vision of our town, and we did just that. Yet it wasn't until it was finished we realised how similar it was to a concentration or death camp. There are barbed fences, watchtowers with gunmen inside, secret 'shower' chambers on one block and then the mini-palace type building where Pike and Okra live. The followers sleep in just 2 block buildings, which are like farmers barns with bunk beds. It was cramped for space in there though. I mean really cramped, because of the amount of people in them. And with all those people you get problems. So there is bad health, with dysentery and diarrhoea, it's just sick, that's the word - sick! Those poor bastards who still live in there must be dropping like flies, and I know it! After a couple of weeks people started to get sick. And to think there's only like one toilet and one shower for about 800 people still sickens me. But I had to endure it, so I know. Pike and Okra, that's different for them of course! They get gold-plated toilets, tanning units, baths, Jacuzzis and a full size luxury swimming pool. I know because I helped build it all. Host: Were there many deaths? Leroy:Oh yeah. Pike and Okra will deny it but people want to get out. Problem is though their being held. They employed Mexicans to watch over us and sit up in the watchtowers. Many people got shot because they wanted out. Others killed themselves. And other times Mr Okra would let the baboons, John & Yoko loose. They'd been trained, so when say someone is not working or is being lazy they attack. Sometimes we'd be carrying away friends who'd been beaten to death by these monsters. Yoko was the worst; she'd bite into the flesh, everytime aiming for the neck and the arteries. It was a horrible mess most times. It kept us in line and probably still is. Host: Where is the money coming from? Leroy: I had to help make parts for weapons as with the others who made other parts. It was then put together and the weapons where shipped off to terrorists in the middle-east and Eastern Europe. Pike and Okra are raking the money in, killing more people. It's so very sad. When you think that some child is wielding one of the weapons you help to make, and he then goes on to kill other children it gets me guilty. Though the guilt of Pike and Okra is much bigger. They both peddle the weapons to the gunrunners without any emotion whatsoever. It very, very sad. They are inhumane. Host: Before we go on the phone with Mr Okra would you like to say anything directly to him? Leroy: Yeah, he's an asshole! End of. *In the corner of the TV screen a picture of Derek Okra is now shown with the text 'Live from Pikestown, Mexico below* Host:Okay....Anyway, live on the phone from Pikestown to tell his side of the story is Derrik Okra, a spirit medium who says that Leroy is an impostor. Derrik: Hello? Host: Hi Derrik, your on the air...please continue and tell all. Derrik: Well Hello. It's good to be heard all you lovely Americans. I can assure that all things are good down here at Icketown and Leroy has never actually been here. As Dave has told me, he must be a shapeshifter sent by your illuminati run newsstation to distort the real truth. That real truth is that Icketown is a haven of peace and nirvana. Dave Pike is a truly great man. He is a port of love and light. nondisclosed_email@example.com (knights)Thu, 12 Jan 2006 20:50:57 +0000 Truth in Lies 3: Hell comes to Pikestownhttps://bthedeadtalkdeadrekindledforums.runboard.com/p2493,from=rss#post2493https://bthedeadtalkdeadrekindledforums.runboard.com/p2493,from=rss#post2493Truth In Lies 3 ---- Characters: nondisclosed_email@example.com (knights)Thu, 12 Jan 2006 20:46:25 +0000