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Try to grab the keys.

Singent : Hey, what the phu..! I don't want to see you move another inch or I'm gonna slice ya' into nice little bite-sized pieces. Now can it!



Okay, try to grab the nail.

Narrator : You are now a proud nail owner.

And then use the nail to open the handcuffs.

Narrator : Good thinking! The nail proves to be just what you needed to free yourself from those handcuffs.
Narrator : Don't get all excited, Little Red Riding Hood. You aren't out of the woods yet.

Pull the Velvet Pelvis poster off of the wall...


... Lay it on the floor...

Narrator : You carefully lay the rug on the floor. Even though you were never known for interior decorating talents, you feel very satisfied with the location you have chosen.

... and dance, Dance, DANCE!

Narrator : Your body is now carrying a nice static charge.


Narrator : Wow! The static energy you built up discharged, frying lard boy's circuitry! Did you actually think of that or was it just luck?

Search the body.

Narrator : Smooth move! You've got his keyring.

Grab the moddie off the safe.

Narrator : You now possess the moddie.

Grab your datacorder off the desk.

And then search through the CDs a few times.

Narrator : Your search through the CDs reveals a bunch of typically boring multimedia magazines.
Narrator : A multimedia phone book. Too bad there aren't any phones around here.
Narrator : The Outpost project survival guide.
Narrator : Successful people managing techniques by Karm Treebis. (Funny -- it's empty.)
Narrator : MF DOS for idiots, morons and feebs.
Narrator : Touring Xenon on five buckazoids a day.
Narrator : Discovering your inner maggot.
Narrator : How to become assigned to being a corporate creative genius without really trying.
Narrator : Hmmm. This might be worth checking out. It's a copy of Popular Tecktronics.

Cram the CD into the computer.

From Datacorder to Homing Beacon -- Fast!
Yes, you too can make a homing beacon from simple household goods. Chief among the devices you can use is the datacorder, which with a few adjustments sends out a powerful signal to potential rescuers who could be light years away.
First, open your datacorder. Inside you'll find chips, irk settings, and plates. If you correctly alter these settings, you'll soon be home by the fire with a cup of nog. Of course, any mitsakes could result in a barbecue with you as the entree. But let's not worry about that!
We'll describe the details in the next issue!

EMail Shopping With No Buckazoids
EShop with absolutely nothing in the accounts. It's easy... when you know the system.
First, random-gen approximately 32 four-by-four numbers and pick a month and year. These will be your challenge charge cards. Make up a name (NOT Neekburm, please!) And start calling ECatalog stores.
The idea is to make the calls fast, and give them the challenge card numbers before they can trace the call. As most hackoids know, there are so many cards out there that the probability of one of your challenge cards being a used number is practically 100 percent!
Remember, don't skimp. You're spending other people's buckazoids, so go for it!

Mired EMag, Hot Journalism or Hot Air?
We've all heard the hype. Mired Emag is the hottest hippest, hip-happiest thing to happen to journalism since Guttenburg invented that big printer thingie. But is it the EMag of the future, or is it just another CyberVogue knockoff with some fancy schmancy art?
You be the judge. The last issue featured an article on SmartDrugeStores on Celine-Dion, a list of the latest technogibberish, and a review of Waterworld. Are these subjects cool, or do they leave you cold?

Make A Time Machine out of a Delorean!
Chances are you're too young to remember a quaint little movie about a fellow named Marty McFly, but he and his friend Doc started a trend that has become a popular pursuit among time-travelling hobbyists: making time machines out of DeLorean cars.
DeLoreans aren't easy to find these days, they went out of fasion when John DeLorean went in the slammer. But if you have the luck to come across one of these babies, the universe and all its time zones -- and we mean ALL its time zones -- can be yours. Happy hunting!

In Search of the Elusive Multiple Organism.
Since the dawn of time, men and women have searched for the multiple organism. Some say that it is just a myth. Others claim that it existed at one time, but that the effects of toxic waste, pollution, and electromagnetic forces throughout the universe have made the multiple organism extinct.
This writer, for one, has searched all her adult life for the excitement of contact with one of these elusive creatures. The thought of seeing a multiple organism sends a thrill through me. I hope with my entire essence that multiple organuisms do exist on some level, and that one day I may meet up with one of them, just to say "hi".

Use the key card to leave the room.

Nigel : You have to ask yourself, "Do I feel lucky?"
Nigel : Well, do I punk? ...

Search through some of the boxes.

Narrator : You rummage around in the box to look for something useful, but all you find is an almost complete set of "Line Dancing in Zero-G" Daddies. Only Volume 2, The Achy Breaky, appears to be missing.
Narrator : You poke around and look for something useful, but since you're not exactly Mr.Subspace Neurotransmitter Repair Guy, none of it appeals to you.
Narrator : You upoke and prod amongst the moddies until you find...
Narrator : ... a moddie labelled "churlish." Being intriqued by the word, you glom it.
Narrator : Incidentally, you might want to look up the word "churlish" before you do anything "stupid".

Peel the label off of the "Churlish" moddie, and stick it onto the other moddie we grabbed from the other room (it used to have the label "Burlesque"). Give the newly labelled moddie to Nigel.

Narrator : Thinking it was the churlish moddie, he pops it in place.




Grab Nigel's belt from the floor...

... And take the remote for the force field and his "Personnal Grooming Assistant".



Finally go outside, and turn the datacorder into a Homing Device.











Narrator : Popular Tecktronics. Who are you trying to kid? I know what you were "reading" in there.
Stellar : What was that voice, Roger? I thought I heard something.
Wilco : Pay no attention, Stellar. It was probably just, ah, mechanical flatulatence from the ship.
Stellar : Anyway, we received a transmission from a nearby StarCon communications monitoring platform. They told us of some unusual signal originating from the area of Polysorbate LX. We dialed it in, scanned the coordinates, and found you.
Wilco : So, what are you doing in this sector, Stellar? I thought you were stationed on the SCS Heinz 57.
Stellar : I am. I had some leave accumulated and decided to take it. Uh, this is kind of embarrassing for me.


Stellar : When I got to that dump of an inn and found you'd been kidnapped by those things. I searched around but could find no trace of where they'd taken you. That certainly is a strange place.
Stellar : I decided to beam back up to the deepship and try to locate you through your transport communicator signal. When I'd returned, I found you'd left it up here on the ship. I didn't know what to do then, until that call came through from the StarCon installation. You're a lucky man, Wilco.
Wilco : Uh, yeah. I... I guess I am.
Wilco : If you hadn't gotten there when you did, I'd probably be a victim of some serious cement poisoning after those geeks chucked me off that balcony.
Stellar : Terrace.
Wilco : What?
Stellar : Well, actually it was a terrace.
Wilco : Whatever.
Wilco : Thanks, STellar. I sure owe you a big one.


Stellar : But let's talk about you and me. Perhaps I could take you to dinner sometime soon.


Wilco : The thing is that I kind of have a... kind of a, relationship with another and I wouldn't feel very comfortable about that. I mean it... it wouldn't be fair to her. Do you understand?
Wilco : Not to mention the fact I'd be wearing my sphincter for a necklace if Beatrice ever found out.
Wilco : I hope you do understand, Stellar. I like you. I... I think I even more than like you. I don't know where I got this inordinate sense of loyalty toward Beatrice.
Narrator : I believe the word that explains that is FEAR.
Wilco : Pound sand, Pal!
Wilco : Please know that, were the situation any different, I'd be making that date with you right now.


Stellar : I guess I admire your truness of heart, however misplaced, but I feel much more inclined to damn you for it. I know, that's selfish, but it's how I feel.
Stellar : I must admit that it shows something more about you, more depth of character than I gave you credit for, Wilco. Well, I'm patient. If you ever have a change of heart...
Stellar : Well, Roger, um... we should, ah... we should see what we can find out about those subhuman walking dumpsters that had such a keen interest in you. I don't suppose you heard their names?




Wilco : Good thinking, Stellar. I probably would've thought of it -- eventually.
Stellar : Yeah, I'm sure you would have, Roger. Look, I've got to go to Sickbay and get some treatment for my back after that not-so-graceful rescue.
Wilco : Oh, yeah, that. Uh, Sorry, Well um. I'll see you there.




Commander Kielbasa : Computer, on screen.


Admiral Toolman : This is actually a special request from me, Commander. As you may know, I served with Admiral Blundtphang during the Phallopian Campaign. Admiral Bludtphang's widow is involved in building on off-world retirment community. They are almost finished, but have requested assistance from DeepShip 86.
Admiral Toolman : Commander, please extend her every courtesy. You know, if things go well, this would not look too bad in your personnel file. I will let Sharpei, the Admiral's widow, explain further.


Sharpei : To be honest, Commander, I pulled a few strings, but this is an important mission, I assure you.
Sharpei : Since you are scheduled to be present for the dedication of the Golden Lightyears Retirement Center anyway, I hoped you might alter your travel plans to accomodate an earlier arrival.
Sharpei : From the information provided me by my old friend, the Admiral, you would be able to warp here within a few hours. I require some assistance from your ship, as well as one of your crewmembers.
Sharpei : Allow me to explain .......

Meanwhile back in Sickbay...




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