From: pcxsws@unicorn.ccc.nottingham.ac.uk (S.Ward-Smith) Newsgroups: alt.ql.creative Subject: Roundtable Group A March Story Date: 5 Mar 1994 13:46:38 -0000 Organization: Cripps Computing Centre, University of Nottingham Message-Id: <2la2fu$pkv@unicorn.ccc.nottingham.ac.uk> As the Quantum energy dissipated, Sam found himself walking down an unfamiliar street. "What's this weight on my shoulder?" he thought as he looked over to find a large bag hanging at his hip. He then noticed the blue uniform and letters in his hand..."I'm a mailman?" Then he heard it. It was a low rumbling at first, now getting louder. Sam walked cautiously on -- until the biggest, meanest, ugliest dog he had ever seen turned the corner. "Nice doggy...nice doggy," he said trying to calm the monster. But it was no good -- it started in Sam's direction, and with a loud "Oh Boyyyyyyy!" Sam turned and ran, leaving a trail of letters behind... Signed, sealed and delivered. August 1970. Sam sprinted past several bystanders and eventually came to rest in a side street a good quarter of a mile from his starting position. He lent heavily against a nearby fence and took in large lung fulls of air. "Woooh, that was close." said Sam. "Close but no cigar." said a voice behind him. "Aargh" said Sam, jumping into the air, "Al, don't creep up on me." "You should be ashamed running from a little thing like that." "Little, you call that.. that..that enormous brute LITTLE!!!" shouted Sam. "Well, he's little compared to the dog that used to live next door to the orphaage, his owner though, oooh, she was one hell.." "Al, please, can you tell me where I am, and what I am supposed to do." "Well its the 7th of August 1970, you are in the small town of Wetherby, England. Your name is David Kinghorn and you are a postman." "I gathered that from the uniform, any idea what I'm doing here?" "You've seen the reason, David gets sacked in a week for not delivering mail down Crossley Street, that's the street with the dog in it, a week of mail for the street is found in a nearby bin, someone reports him, then kaput. David never gets another job and goes into a chronic depression, this costs him his marriage." "So I'm here to keep him in his job?" "Ziggy says there's a 85.7% probability that's the case" "So I need to go and deliver letters near that dog?" "If you want to leap, that's what you're going to have to do." "But surely I need a more permanent solution." "What do you mean." "Delivering the letters today won't cure the dog problem, it needs fixing permanently." "I don't like what you're suggesting Sam. It's a poor dumb animal, how could you consider killing it." "I'm not!" said Sam idignantly. "I'm just suggesting I need to speak to the owners and get them to tether the creature more effectively." "Probably a good idea, now you'd better get round to Crossley Street now, before someone steals the letters you dropped all over the pavement." Sam arrived back at Crossley Street a few minutes later. Sure enough the letters were still there. He started to carefully pick them up, looking around him all the time for the dog to appear. "Excuse me." piped a shrill voice behind him. "Yes" said Sam, turning to find a small old lady behind him. "I noticed you were having problems with Ben." "Ben?" asked Sam. "The big friendly mongrel from across the street." "Friendly? You must be joking." retorted Sam. "When you get to know him, he's a lamb, he's badly treated though." "In what way?" asked Sam. "He's left to wander the streets, he's not fed properly and his owners often kick the poor creature. No wonder he chased you and feels insecure. With a bit of love and attention he'd be fine. I actually hold a dog training class at the local town hall. I tried to get his owners to bring him along but only got a mouthful of verbal abuse for my pains." "Have you reported them to the RSPCA?" asked Sam. "I was going to, but he's such a handful, and if he was taken to the local dogs home I doubt anybody would take him. He'd be put to sleep, I'd be signing his death warrant." "I tell you what." said Sam, smiling. He thought he'd finally worked out what he'd been sent to do. "If you report his owners and he goes to the home, I'll buy him from them. I'll even bring him to your classes, Mrs....?" "Woodhouse, Barbara Woodhouse." she said beaming at him. Sam could now see Al standing behind Mrs Woodhouse. "I'll better get on with my work now Barbara, I'll see you later." "Thank you for your help, you've been most kind." said Mrs Woodhouse. Sam wandered down the street a bit until he could speak to Al without being observed. "You did it Sam, you changed history. David takes on Ben, his kids love him, Barbara sorts out his behavioural problems, and is encouraged by this to write a book on dog training which becomes a best seller. She even gets her own TV show. Ben's owners are banned from keeeping dogs for 2 years. A job really well done...Uh Oh." "What's wrong?" asked Sam. "Ben is behind you." replied Al. Sam turned and knelt down to face the huge hound. "Who's a good dog. Who's a good boy." said Sam, patting Ben on the head. Suddenly he was suddenly forced over by the animal, jaws open over his head. "Oh boy!" shouted Sam. Then a huge pink tongue descended and started licking him all over. Sam disappeared in a blaze of blue light. Sam found himself sitting before a council of men, with a microphone in front of him and wearing a dark suit. A large crowd was behind him. "Answer the question, please," said the man in the center of the council. "Could you repeat it, please?" Sam asked, cautiously. "Are you trying to make a mockery of this committee?" "No, of course not," Sam said, "Never." "Very well, then, sir. Are you, or have you ever been a member of the Communist party?" "Oh boy." -- * Steve Ward-Smith *"Master Shamen I have come with my dolly from * * pcxsws@unicorn.nott.ac.uk * the shadow side with a demon and an Englishman" * * Dr 13 of the NTB * - Tori Amos, Sister Janet