Snow Crash
05-11-2010, 09:39 PM
Gather round the campfire once more, goatfuckers, for it is about time for another story concerning the most notable, and indeed, the most inevitable and decidedly translucent Escobar da Silva Juan Garcia Manuel Hernandes Morales Pablo Pedro Miguel Carlos Ortega, the world renowned crime lord from Moscow and de facto head of the forces of darkness upon the planet known to its moronic inhabitants as the Earth (or Oif, if you're from New Joizi, Jehhhhhgohff).
Now, as you might have guessed, being a crime lord has guarantees that Escobar da Silva Juan Garcia Manuel Hernandes Morales Pablo Pedro Miguel Carlos Ortega has always had a sizeable investment in the world's narcotics markets. That mofo sells anything, from cough syrup to cocaine, from aspirin to heroin, and from viagra to hemaroid cream (of which it is rumoured that the fanatical terrorist overlord known as Rush Limbaugh is a loyal customer).
Escobar da Silva Juan Garcia Manuel Hernandes Morales Pablo Pedro Miguel Carlos Ortega is ALWAYS on the lookout for something new to sell to people. I've seen him sell a ground up hazelnut (not the one with the cat fixation, mind!) to junkies before. Escobar da Silva Juan Garcia Manuel Hernandes Morales Pablo Pedro Miguel Carlos Ortega's quest for new narcotics to sell has lead him to form an entirely new branch of his vast and evil and oh so deadly Army of Darkness; a team of hippies, ninjas, terrorists, gunslingers, scientists and drug dealers that Uncle Escobar leads HIMSELF on expeditions of narco-discovery. It is one such expedition, deep into the heart of a Canuckistani farm, which this harrowing tale is about.
So, one frosty November morning, last July, the expedition was handed a briefing by one of the narco-experts in the team, a fellow who would refer to himself as Pepe Le Pew. Which I always found strange, because he was from the US... but whatever. Our target was a farm just outside Vancouver, where, intel suggested, a plant that could be sold was being grown. We were told it was smokeable, and was actually better for the human being than tobacco.
Marketing suggested it would be a coup to get our hands on this plant, as we could then present a 'Healthy Living Option' to the consumers. Uncle Escobar agreed, and we left that evening, riding on horseback up to Canuckistan. Well, Escobar da Silva Juan Garcia Manuel Hernandes Morales Pablo Pedro Miguel Carlos Ortega levitated, because he is that l33t that he doesn't need a horse, but the rest of us rode horses.
We stopped for fuel outside a tavern in a desert village called Portland, situated in the wilderness of the jungles of Oregon. Outside the village, the harsh tundra was home to samurai yetis, back-door laxative salesmen, the teddy bears of lost children, and native mystics with pet iguanas. While the men refuelled, Escobar da Silva Juan Garcia Manuel Hernandes Morales Pablo Pedro Miguel Carlos Ortega and his two most trusted and venerable Generals, Snow Crash and Apollo Rising, went for a stroll to stretch their legs, and to decide upon how we would fight our way past the wall of Mounties that lines the Canuckistani Border. As you know, the Wall that Canuckistan built to protect itself from illegal aliens from Amerostan is made up entirely of Mounties, a savage breed of pig capable of making anyone shit their pants.
I had just explained to my fellow General that the best method of defeating the pigs was to bribe them with cocaine, cash, or threaten to turn them into bacon, when Escobar da Silva Juan Garcia Manuel Hernandes Morales Pablo Pedro Miguel Carlos Ortega froze in his tracks. We both fell silent, and watched as a misty vapour appeared before us, and began speaking to us in a strange voice. Imagine Ediie Murphy on Helium. Thats pretty close.
"Ye shall find the plant to be quite useless!" said the mist.
"Identify yourself, bitch!" roared Escobar da Silva Juan Garcia Manuel Hernandes Morales Pablo Pedro Miguel Carlos Ortega.
"Agent Johnson, DEA," replied the mist. "I am the God of the Useless Plant."
"We seek the knowledge of the plant. Hand it over!" demanded Escobar da Silva Juan Garcia Manuel Hernandes Morales Pablo Pedro Miguel Carlos Ortega.
"You cannot have the plant, for it is Useless. Tobacco is the better option. It contains road tar and nicotine, which is addictive."
"I want the plant!" announced the Uncle, squaring up to the mist. "The world will love it!"
"The 'world' will not understand," the mist replied nonchalantly, "for they too, are useless.."
"Then we shall show them," said Apollo Rising.
"You shall not. The plant is useless, and you cannot have it."
"Why do you not want us to have it?" General von Snow Crash asked.
The mist paused, before replying slowly.
"You know... I don't actually know? I was just doing what I was told to do."
"But you're supposed to be the God of this plant," Escobar da Silva Juan Garcia Manuel Hernandes Morales Pablo Pedro Miguel Carlos Ortega said. "What does it do?"
The mist looked thoughtful. Which is quite a feat for mist. "Well, it has a lot of applications. You can sooth pain, have spiritual experiences... it even has industrial and material applications.
"Why's it called the Useless Plant then?" pressed Uncle Escobar.
"Because the other Gods demanded it."
"Which Gods?" I'll kick their arses," roared Escobar da Silva Juan Garcia Manuel Hernandes Morales Pablo Pedro Miguel Carlos Ortega.
"The Gods known as Big Pharma, Big Industry, Religion, Media, and finally, the God of Gods, known as THE MAN."
"Doesn't that seem illogical that they would ban it if it is so useful?" asked Apollo Rising.
The mist froze for a moment, and a strange buzzing was heard in its ear. When it spoke again, its voice was as it was when it had first spoken.
"It is not Useful. It is Useless. Useless is against the Gods. Useless is Evil. Questioning is Evil. I am to guard the world against this Evil."
Escobar da Silva Juan Garcia Manuel Hernandes Morales Pablo Pedro Miguel Carlos Ortega laughed cruelly. "Don't you know who the fuck I am? I'm Escobar da Silva Juan Garcia Manuel Hernandes Morales Pablo Pedro Miguel Carlos Ortega, Bitch!"
Uncle Escobar then did battle with the mist, before vanquishing it by farting on it, the mighty wind dissipating it entirely. We made our way back to the village, more determined than ever to find the Useless Plant. We rallied the men, and made for the border, where, in sight of the Wall of Mounties, another mist appeared.
"Ye shall find the plant to be quite evil."
"Who are you?" demanded Escobar da Silva Juan Garcia Manuel Hernandes Morales Pablo Pedro Miguel Carlos Ortega.
"I am Mr Johnson, FDA," replied the mist. "I am the God of the Evil Plant..."
Now, as you might have guessed, being a crime lord has guarantees that Escobar da Silva Juan Garcia Manuel Hernandes Morales Pablo Pedro Miguel Carlos Ortega has always had a sizeable investment in the world's narcotics markets. That mofo sells anything, from cough syrup to cocaine, from aspirin to heroin, and from viagra to hemaroid cream (of which it is rumoured that the fanatical terrorist overlord known as Rush Limbaugh is a loyal customer).
Escobar da Silva Juan Garcia Manuel Hernandes Morales Pablo Pedro Miguel Carlos Ortega is ALWAYS on the lookout for something new to sell to people. I've seen him sell a ground up hazelnut (not the one with the cat fixation, mind!) to junkies before. Escobar da Silva Juan Garcia Manuel Hernandes Morales Pablo Pedro Miguel Carlos Ortega's quest for new narcotics to sell has lead him to form an entirely new branch of his vast and evil and oh so deadly Army of Darkness; a team of hippies, ninjas, terrorists, gunslingers, scientists and drug dealers that Uncle Escobar leads HIMSELF on expeditions of narco-discovery. It is one such expedition, deep into the heart of a Canuckistani farm, which this harrowing tale is about.
So, one frosty November morning, last July, the expedition was handed a briefing by one of the narco-experts in the team, a fellow who would refer to himself as Pepe Le Pew. Which I always found strange, because he was from the US... but whatever. Our target was a farm just outside Vancouver, where, intel suggested, a plant that could be sold was being grown. We were told it was smokeable, and was actually better for the human being than tobacco.
Marketing suggested it would be a coup to get our hands on this plant, as we could then present a 'Healthy Living Option' to the consumers. Uncle Escobar agreed, and we left that evening, riding on horseback up to Canuckistan. Well, Escobar da Silva Juan Garcia Manuel Hernandes Morales Pablo Pedro Miguel Carlos Ortega levitated, because he is that l33t that he doesn't need a horse, but the rest of us rode horses.
We stopped for fuel outside a tavern in a desert village called Portland, situated in the wilderness of the jungles of Oregon. Outside the village, the harsh tundra was home to samurai yetis, back-door laxative salesmen, the teddy bears of lost children, and native mystics with pet iguanas. While the men refuelled, Escobar da Silva Juan Garcia Manuel Hernandes Morales Pablo Pedro Miguel Carlos Ortega and his two most trusted and venerable Generals, Snow Crash and Apollo Rising, went for a stroll to stretch their legs, and to decide upon how we would fight our way past the wall of Mounties that lines the Canuckistani Border. As you know, the Wall that Canuckistan built to protect itself from illegal aliens from Amerostan is made up entirely of Mounties, a savage breed of pig capable of making anyone shit their pants.
I had just explained to my fellow General that the best method of defeating the pigs was to bribe them with cocaine, cash, or threaten to turn them into bacon, when Escobar da Silva Juan Garcia Manuel Hernandes Morales Pablo Pedro Miguel Carlos Ortega froze in his tracks. We both fell silent, and watched as a misty vapour appeared before us, and began speaking to us in a strange voice. Imagine Ediie Murphy on Helium. Thats pretty close.
"Ye shall find the plant to be quite useless!" said the mist.
"Identify yourself, bitch!" roared Escobar da Silva Juan Garcia Manuel Hernandes Morales Pablo Pedro Miguel Carlos Ortega.
"Agent Johnson, DEA," replied the mist. "I am the God of the Useless Plant."
"We seek the knowledge of the plant. Hand it over!" demanded Escobar da Silva Juan Garcia Manuel Hernandes Morales Pablo Pedro Miguel Carlos Ortega.
"You cannot have the plant, for it is Useless. Tobacco is the better option. It contains road tar and nicotine, which is addictive."
"I want the plant!" announced the Uncle, squaring up to the mist. "The world will love it!"
"The 'world' will not understand," the mist replied nonchalantly, "for they too, are useless.."
"Then we shall show them," said Apollo Rising.
"You shall not. The plant is useless, and you cannot have it."
"Why do you not want us to have it?" General von Snow Crash asked.
The mist paused, before replying slowly.
"You know... I don't actually know? I was just doing what I was told to do."
"But you're supposed to be the God of this plant," Escobar da Silva Juan Garcia Manuel Hernandes Morales Pablo Pedro Miguel Carlos Ortega said. "What does it do?"
The mist looked thoughtful. Which is quite a feat for mist. "Well, it has a lot of applications. You can sooth pain, have spiritual experiences... it even has industrial and material applications.
"Why's it called the Useless Plant then?" pressed Uncle Escobar.
"Because the other Gods demanded it."
"Which Gods?" I'll kick their arses," roared Escobar da Silva Juan Garcia Manuel Hernandes Morales Pablo Pedro Miguel Carlos Ortega.
"The Gods known as Big Pharma, Big Industry, Religion, Media, and finally, the God of Gods, known as THE MAN."
"Doesn't that seem illogical that they would ban it if it is so useful?" asked Apollo Rising.
The mist froze for a moment, and a strange buzzing was heard in its ear. When it spoke again, its voice was as it was when it had first spoken.
"It is not Useful. It is Useless. Useless is against the Gods. Useless is Evil. Questioning is Evil. I am to guard the world against this Evil."
Escobar da Silva Juan Garcia Manuel Hernandes Morales Pablo Pedro Miguel Carlos Ortega laughed cruelly. "Don't you know who the fuck I am? I'm Escobar da Silva Juan Garcia Manuel Hernandes Morales Pablo Pedro Miguel Carlos Ortega, Bitch!"
Uncle Escobar then did battle with the mist, before vanquishing it by farting on it, the mighty wind dissipating it entirely. We made our way back to the village, more determined than ever to find the Useless Plant. We rallied the men, and made for the border, where, in sight of the Wall of Mounties, another mist appeared.
"Ye shall find the plant to be quite evil."
"Who are you?" demanded Escobar da Silva Juan Garcia Manuel Hernandes Morales Pablo Pedro Miguel Carlos Ortega.
"I am Mr Johnson, FDA," replied the mist. "I am the God of the Evil Plant..."