Have you ever heard of a story...where everyone was so stupid that even stupid people could not be stupid enough to comprehend how stupid it is? You came to the right place then, Mate. Yes...your name is Mate. As you read this story you will be Mate, breath Mate, see Mate, feel Mate, caress Mate, kiss Mate and have relations of an inappropriate manner with Mate. You are Mate. This is YOUR story. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- "I've always had this dream where everyone bought my awesome products. There is the seemingly useless creamy substance I call "Cabal paste" which makes you smell like a Cabal. You know...fetishes and such. Some people just love the warm caress of a Cabal as they...AHEM! Sorry I was getting caught up in the moment," You recollect what you were saying and continue with a small bulge (or wet spot) in a 'nono' area of your pants. "As I was saying...I have a wide array of products...would you care to buy some?" Empty and expressionless your 'to-be' customer stares at you with a look of...disgust maybe? No more like contempt. Or was it dysentery? No that's a disease, a horrible HORRIBLE disease. She stares at you with a look of contempt and scoffs, "Not in a million years!" Then initiates the "Get away from this freak" module of programming. Funny thing that...that module was disintegrated in the fall of the Golden Age. Time is a cruel mistress it seems. You, Mate, shrug and continue selling your strange and upsetting products without a care in the world. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- [b]Authors Note:[/b] So? What do you guys think? Should I continue this story or trash it like the rest of my ungrateful little buggers I call, "monkey type-writer servants?" By that of course I mean the story...of course.