       ____    ______
    __/  _/_   \   _/__   ________        _________   ________  ________
    \   ____)__/  __   )_/ ______/_       \   __   )_/ ______/_/  _____/\
    /   \)    /   (/    / ________/       /   (/    / ________/   \)    /
    \___ \   /____/    /____     /       /____/    /____     /_________/
       \____/    \____/    \____/            \____/    \____/
                               ____
                              /___/          ____
   ________ ________ _________ ___ ______ __/  _/_ ________  ______ ______
  /  _____/_  _____/\  __ __  )_  \  __  )\   ____)_  ____/_/      )  __  )_
 /   \)    /  \)    /  (/ (/   /  /  (/   /   \)   / ______/   /___/  (/   /
/____ \   /________/___/__/   /__/___/   /\___ \  /___    /___/   /___/   /
    \____/               \___/      \___/    \___/   \___/           \___/

::::::::.:::..::...:.... ...  ..   .    .   ..  ... ....:...::..:::.::::::::

        t h e  n e o - c o m i n t e r n  i n s t a l l m e n t  4 3

                        WE ARE THE 5th INTERNATIONAL
                             December 6th, 1998
                                 editor: BMC
                                   writers:
                                 Gnarly Wayne
                                     BMC
                                  
::::::::.:::..::...:.... ...  ..   .    .   ..  ... ....:...::..:::.::::::::
                                                                           .
                        featured in this installment:                      .
                   Tea Trek: Search For Tea- Gnarly Wayne                  .
                            The Bad Old Dayz- BMC                          .
                                                                           :
          .      .     .    .   .  . .. ...................................;

                                EDITORS NOTE

        Our ten minute mission: to wipe our hind quarters with the
fundaments of the English language.


::::::::.:::..::...:.... ...  ..   .    .   ..  ... ....:...::..:::.::::::::
                                                                           .
                           TEA TREK: SERCH FOR TEA                         .
                               By Gnarly Wayne                             .
                                                                           :
          .      .     .    .   .  . .. ...................................;

                                                     
        The C.C.C.P. TeaBag continued flying on its continuing mission to
find tasty tea herbs, immerse them in boiling H20, and drink it.  Captian BMC
sat in his commanding lawn chair, with his second-in-command, C-A-T.  Komrade
B piloted the vessel, Cog was weapons specialist, STUYA shovelled coal to the
engines, and Gnarly Wayne kicked the bobo as Minister of Tea.  As Minister of
Tea, his office was in the specially designed "tea room".  It had a table, a
ball of sugar, a kettle, much cups and spoons, and a garbage bag full of tea.

        They had just come off a fourteen month shore leave on the planet
Planet. The tea supply had been exhausted to a dangerously low level and the
populous had been on the verge of rebellion.  The uprising had only been
quelled by the promise of a Silver Train of tea within the next two months.
Instead of going to an already known about planet with a large tea supply,
Captain BMC decided to explore some new areas of space in hopes of finding an
even tastier tea than the popular "orange pekoe".

        One fine space day, after high tea, a warning flashed across the
SuperVGA monitor.  "On screen." commanded BMC.  A sinister and evil visage
appeared on the 320x240 display.  "Well, well, Mista Iggy. Very ingenious."
said the evil face.

        "Oh no, run!" ordered Bo$$.

        STUYA got a bigger shovel.  The plan worked.  They eazily outran the
slow evil man.  After all, they had a ship. 

        The assemblage continued to an uncharted planet of Class G.  BMC
ordered all the high ranking and valuable officers to fly down to the
planet's surface.  Being intelligent, he also took two guys in red uniforms
just in case of trouble.  Upon arrival on the planet's surface, Gnarly Wayne
and C-A-T took readings while BMC looked around in awe.  A few minutes later,
Wayne announced "This planet meets and/or exceeds the requirements we need in
order to live, Captain."

        Komrade B ran up to the Captain, looking very excited.  He had found
a tin can and a smelly marker.  BMC grabbed the smelly marker and screamed
"IT'S MINE!".  Then he smelled it.  He liked it.  It smelled like good.  The
tin can was ignored admist the talk about the smelly marker.  The can sulked
off into the horizon.

        "Oh, yeah, tea." said BMC suddenly.

        "Oh yeah." everyone concurred.

        "Minister of Tea, find us some tea!" instructed BMC.

        "OK." said the Minister of Tea, Gnarly Wayne.

        As Gnarly Wayne went off in serch of tea, BMC had an astounding
adventure.  As he was exploring one of three grottos, a little Irishman came
out of a tree and started taunting BMC.

        "Fight me, BMC, fight me." he taunted.

        Never one to back down from a slugfest, BMC drew his truncheon and
set it on "EXTRA KILL".  The Irishman looked frightened.  "No, no.  Fight me
with your fists.  That's what the script sa...ack!" croaked the Irishman as
BMC battered him into a fine paste.

        On the other end of the planet, Cog had stumbled upon a convenience
store.  "heh heh, it's an INconvenience store." Cog said to himself, smiling
at the damage his comment must have done the store and all within.  However,
as he turned around, the same store was right in front of him.

        "That's odd." remarked Cog.

        Turning a different way yielded no different results.  Everywhere he
turned that store seemed to be right in front of him.  "Well, I'll be sure.
This is convenient."  Cog reflected.

        He walked into the convience store and was never heard from again
until ten minutes later when he walked out.

        "Hey, I got jerky!" said Cog.

        "No you don't. I'm right here." said Wayne.

        They shared a good laugh along with the tasty jerky which tasted
tasty.  After their meal, Cog mentioned "Hey, did you find any tea yet?".
"Whoops." said Wayne and scuttled off to go to work.

        In other parts of the world, Komrade B had lumbered upon a bizarro
monstar labour camp.  They were busy planting trees and helping the eldery do
their dishes.  Komrade B almost fainted right there.  Only years of
anti-fainting training saved him.  Then he noticed that the monstars were
also getting paid $3.22/hour for these services.  His eyebrows arched inward
and a cruel smile crept onto his mug.  Drawing his truncheon, he set it to
"WRECK" and proceeded to destroy the entire camp, thereby fulfilling the
Prime Directive.  After destroying and eating the monstars, he took a well
deserved nap.

        The C-A-T was sleeping near the cooling impulse drives when a clever
sound started her.  "Ack!" she cried in alarm.  The two red uniformed guys
ran to her aid.  They were promptly zapped into oblivion.  The last thing
C-A-T saw was an evil face and a low, harsh laugh.

        At the end of the afternoon, all the crew members rendezvoused at the
designated spot and swapped stories and literature.  Wayne had found a 
SuperValu bag full of tea and decided that should be enough for the citizens
of Planet.  As they approached the landing shuttle, STUYA detected something
amiss.

        "Hey, something's amiss." STUYA detected.

        "Yeah, the two red uniformed guys have been zapped into oblivion."
noted Komrade B.

        A wicked voice came from behind them.

        "Well, well, Mista Iggy.  Very ingenious.  You come to this planet,
get tea, and do something bad with it that will directly affect me somehow."
said the dastardly villian, dressed in black and ready to attack.

        BMC set his truncheon to "HURT" and got ready to do battle.  An
expensive battle followed.  After a few seconds of fighting, BMC stopped and
said "Hey, I'm not Mista Iggy and all I'm going to do with this tea is drink
it and maybe smoke some of it."

        "Oh." said the evil incarnate and left.

        The crew had a parade for BMC complete with balloons, floats, and Cog
selling refried frankfurters.  Then they packed up the tea and shuttled back
to the C.C.C.P. TeaBag. "Whew. Whatta day." said Gnarly Wayne, exasperated.

        "Jeah..." said Cog.

        "You got that right." said STUYA.

        "Werd em up." said Komrade B.

        "Peace!" said the C-A-T.

        "Raaaarrrr!" said the zombie.

        "A ZOMBIE!" cried the crew in unison.


to be kontinued...


::::::::.:::..::...:.... ...  ..   .    .   ..  ... ....:...::..:::.::::::::
                                                                           .
                              THE BAD OLD DAYZ                             .
                                   By BMC                                  .
                                                                           :
          .      .     .    .   .  . .. ...................................;

                                                           
        I remember back when times were hard and good ol' bastard dad had
to get a job in the North Saskatoon sugar mines.  It was all fun and trix
to me, but every night dad would come home stinking of sugar and I knew it
was time to bend over for the strap.

        But stuff happens, right?  What do you do when you get beaten over
a twenty kilogram sack of sugar every day?  You keep your god damned mouth
shut and hope you don't get forcefed a handful of the crystals in their
purest form.  Even today, every time I inhale that pungent stench of sugar
I vomit the yellowest of bile most have ever seen.

        Then one day dad came home early, not radiating his usual aura of
nostril-burning glucose.  He had been fired for stealing sugar.  I didn't
understand it at that time, but the bad times were only beginning.  From that
point on the parents stopped buying food.  We only had one box of cereal
left, and we had to conserve it by sprinkling it lightly over a bowl of
sugar.  Sometimes when we were lucky dad would pour some rain water in the
bowl to make it possible to swallow that paste.
        
        Those were the crappy old days.

                                                            
::::::::.:::..::...:.... ...  ..   .    .   ..  ... ....:...::..:::.::::::::
    ___________________________________________________
   |THE COMINTERN IS AVAILIABLE ON THE FOLLOWING BBS'S |
   |~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~|
   | BRING ON THE NIGHT                 (306) 373-4218 |
   | CLUB PARADISE                      (306) 978-2542 |
   | THE GATEWAY THROUGH TIME           (306) 373-9778 |
   |___________________________________________________|
   |   Website http://www.sfn.saskatoon.sk.ca/~ad357   |
   |         Email BMC at manta1@hotmail.com           |
   |___________________________________________________|

::::::::.:::..::...:.... ...  ..   .    .   ..  ... ....:...::..:::.::::::::
                                                               #43-12/06/98
Copyright 1998 N-Com
All content is property of The Neo-Comintern.
Unauthorized use of any part of document is prohibited.  All Rights Reserved.
