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From: troc@shadow.net (Rocco Caputo)
Newsgroups: talk.bizarre
Subject: Usually he lands on his belly
Followup-To: misc.test
Date: 9 Apr 1995 00:07:19 GMT
Organization: Caffeine Avenger's Cave of Wonder
Message-ID: <3m78fn$qn7@anshar.shadow.net>

The figurine eats a candy and thinks, "Oh man, gotta hide.  They're
all so fucking BIG.  They wouldn't believe I was alive.  They'd take
me apart in secret labs.  Gotta hide.  Where?"

The figurine chews on another piece of candy and continues its dotted
line of thought, "Okay.  Where can I go?  They'll find out about me
if I stay on the desk.  I can't stay still forever.  They'd see me
for what I am.  Gotta run.  Anywhere."

It eats another, "Can't stay under the desk.  They'll find me.
They'll take me away and experiment on me-- destroy me!  Can't hide
in the room.  Gotta leave.  Gotta get outside.  Go!"  It tosses the
Smarties over the desk's edge.  The figure follows the candy and hits
the ground rolling.  It grabs the tube of confections on the way to
the door.  A single sugar disc bounces away from a tiny running
silhouette.  The silhouette doesn't hesitate to retrieve it.  Doesn't
break stride.  Doesn't even notice it's gone.

The figure skids to a halt at the doorway and munches on another bit
of candy.  Sucrose tsunamis wash through its circulatory system,
burning away vague clouds of paranoia.  A vibrant twinkling starscape
of logic emerges, "Okay, nobody's gonna be out there at fucking 9am
on a fucking Saturday.  Nobody.  Maybe security.  Where's the way
out?"  He stops at every Exit sign, popping tablet after tablet.

The figure slams into the hardwood door and starts to scale its
deeply-engraved facade.  ``Blam!''  He fixes his gaze on a new
eruption of splinters then turns to see a security guard lumbering
down the hall.  Not paying attention to the task at hand, he loses
his grip and tumbles awkwardly to the floor.  The Smarties tube
shatters on impact and showers the carpet with a spray of pastel
pills.  The figure shouts "Fuck!" from the floor in a mixture of
loss and pain.  The door's mail slot isn't far above.  He gets up to
climb again.

``Blam!''  A wooden welt appears as the figure starts his ascent.
``Blam!''  Another small volcano spews splinters as he gains
altitude.  ``Blam! Blam! Blam!''  He flinches every time, but he
keeps on climbing.  ``Blam!''  He reaches the opening and dives
through.  ``Click. Click.''

Our hyperactive hero hits the ground running and laughing and is
quickly lost in the landscaping.

Rocco