|
|
Guitar Discussions -> Wereo erased: The only story that matters
There are 20 messages in this thread.
You are currently looking at messages 1 to 10.
|
Wereo erased: The only story that matters - iSaw - 6-:16 -0-09-20
|
|
Scott Lifshine awoke sitting in a chair in a run-down apartment
somewhere in New York. He had been out for some time but it did not
feel like sleep; it was more akin to oblivion. After the last vestiges
of fog cleared from his mind he began to move slowly with the intention
of standing up but the pressure against his wrists and legs told him
that it would be futile. He looked down at his bonds and as he did so
the feeling of weight on his head was suggestive of a ten-pound hat. As
he blinked and took in the details of the room - the decrepit
floorboards and peeling walls, the light bulb hanging naked from the
ceiling and the old armoire in the corner - he started to scream and
shout, his arms and legs straining against their bonds.
At that moment, a television lurking in the corner hitherto unnoticed by
Scott came to life, the random static image giving way to a close up
shot of a sinister looking puppet with concentric red circles painted
beneath its deep black eyes. The puppet's head turned to face the
camera and its mouth moved in a parody of speech as it uttered the
following words in a sub-octave voice that caused the hair on the back
of Scott's arms to stand on end:
'Hello Scott. You don't know me but I know you. Your life so far
has not been the media circus you desire but a mediocre circus,
pitifully reaching for greatness through desperate means and dishonest
measures. You have wasted your time clinging to symbols of the past,
never truly living your life and appreciating what you have. Now I
offer you this one chance to free yourself of the thing that holds you
back, of the obsessions that have become your prison. Watch carefully,
Scott'.
Scott continued his attempt to free himself of his bonds but his
attention was drawn towards the door to the armoire slowly creaking
open. In the armoire was a large container constructed of metal and
glass and in the container looked to be some reel-to-reel recordings, a
collection of video cassettes and some papers. Scott started to shake
his head from side to side screaming 'No! No!' The voice continued:
'On the underside of the right arm of your chair is a switch. You
have thirty seconds to press that switch before the electrode strapped
to your head delivers a fatal current. However in order to save your
life, you must be prepared to make a sacrifice. Once you press that
switch you will be freed but your California Jam recordings, Nuclear
Warrior cassettes, WWF video cassettes and press articles will be burned
forever.
'Live or die, Scott. Make your choice.'
Above the armoire the bright red LED display of a digital clock began
counting down:
30
29
28
Scott opened his mouth and screamed 'No! You can't do this to me! I
make the only press that matters. There is no one else but me. No!'
19
18
17
Still Scott shouted and screamed: 'I taught Hendrix how to play guitar.
John Lennon was nothing without me!'
12
11
10
'You bastard! Where are you? Where are you, you bastard? I'll fucking...'
2
1
0
'Ghack!'
Scott's entire body went rigid as five amperes of current at two
thousand volts coursed through him. His skin became red due to the
electricity forcing blood to the surface and his mouth steadily foamed
as his body violently jerked. Steam began to rise as he danced his last
fandango and when the electricity stopped he slumped in his chair dead.
Such was the power and strength of Scott's conviction that he wouldn't
turn his back on Nuclear Warrior and the Wereo even on pain of death.
|
|
|
|
Re: Wereo erased: The only story that matters - SmucKy - 6-:16 -0-09-20
|
|
In article <h187ov$dmi$1@news.eternal-september.org>,
iSaw <eyesore@hacked-off.org> wrote:
> Scott Lifshine awoke sitting in a chair in a run-down apartment
> somewhere in New York. He had been out for some time but it did not
> feel like sleep; it was more akin to oblivion. After the last vestiges
> of fog cleared from his mind he began to move slowly with the intention
> of standing up but the pressure against his wrists and legs told him
> that it would be futile. He looked down at his bonds and as he did so
> the feeling of weight on his head was suggestive of a ten-pound hat. As
> he blinked and took in the details of the room - the decrepit
> floorboards and peeling walls, the light bulb hanging naked from the
> ceiling and the old armoire in the corner - he started to scream and
> shout, his arms and legs straining against their bonds.
>
> At that moment, a television lurking in the corner hitherto unnoticed by
> Scott came to life, the random static image giving way to a close up
> shot of a sinister looking puppet with concentric red circles painted
> beneath its deep black eyes. The puppet's head turned to face the
> camera and its mouth moved in a parody of speech as it uttered the
> following words in a sub-octave voice that caused the hair on the back
> of Scott's arms to stand on end:
>
> 'Hello Scott. You don't know me but I know you. Your life so far
> has not been the media circus you desire but a mediocre circus,
> pitifully reaching for greatness through desperate means and dishonest
> measures. You have wasted your time clinging to symbols of the past,
> never truly living your life and appreciating what you have. Now I
> offer you this one chance to free yourself of the thing that holds you
> back, of the obsessions that have become your prison. Watch carefully,
> Scott'.
>
> Scott continued his attempt to free himself of his bonds but his
> attention was drawn towards the door to the armoire slowly creaking
> open. In the armoire was a large container constructed of metal and
> glass and in the container looked to be some reel-to-reel recordings, a
> collection of video cassettes and some papers. Scott started to shake
> his head from side to side screaming 'No! No!' The voice continued:
>
> 'On the underside of the right arm of your chair is a switch. You
> have thirty seconds to press that switch before the electrode strapped
> to your head delivers a fatal current. However in order to save your
> life, you must be prepared to make a sacrifice. Once you press that
> switch you will be freed but your California Jam recordings, Nuclear
> Warrior cassettes, WWF video cassettes and press articles will be burned
> forever.
>
> 'Live or die, Scott. Make your choice.'
>
> Above the armoire the bright red LED display of a digital clock began
> counting down:
>
> 30
> 29
> 28
>
> Scott opened his mouth and screamed 'No! You can't do this to me! I
> make the only press that matters. There is no one else but me. No!'
>
> 19
> 18
> 17
>
> Still Scott shouted and screamed: 'I taught Hendrix how to play guitar.
> John Lennon was nothing without me!'
>
> 12
> 11
> 10
>
> 'You bastard! Where are you? Where are you, you bastard? I'll fucking...'
>
> 2
> 1
> 0
>
> 'Ghack!'
>
> Scott's entire body went rigid as five amperes of current at two
> thousand volts coursed through him. His skin became red due to the
> electricity forcing blood to the surface and his mouth steadily foamed
> as his body violently jerked. Steam began to rise as he danced his last
> fandango and when the electricity stopped he slumped in his chair dead.
>
> Such was the power and strength of Scott's conviction that he wouldn't
> turn his back on Nuclear Warrior and the Wereo even on pain of death.
LOVE IT!!!
We can only WISH ;)
--
^o|o^
-----
|
|
|
|
Re: Wereo erased: The only story that matters - WeReo_ScoTTy - 6-:16 -0-09-20
|
|
"iSaw" <eyesore@hacked-off.org> wrote in message
news:h187ov$dmi$1@news.eternal-september.org...
> Scott Lifshine awoke sitting in a chair in a run-down apartment somewhere
> in New York. He had been out for some time but it did not feel like
> sleep; it was more akin to oblivion. After the last vestiges of fog
> cleared from his mind he began to move slowly with the intention of
> standing up but the pressure against his wrists and legs told him that it
> would be futile. He looked down at his bonds and as he did so the feeling
> of weight on his head was suggestive of a ten-pound hat. As he blinked
> and took in the details of the room - the decrepit floorboards and peeling
> walls, the light bulb hanging naked from the ceiling and the old armoire
> in the corner - he started to scream and shout, his arms and legs
> straining against their bonds.
>
> At that moment, a television lurking in the corner hitherto unnoticed by
> Scott came to life, the random static image giving way to a close up shot
> of a sinister looking puppet with concentric red circles painted beneath
> its deep black eyes. The puppet's head turned to face the camera and its
> mouth moved in a parody of speech as it uttered the following words in a
> sub-octave voice that caused the hair on the back of Scott's arms to stand
> on end:
>
> 'Hello Scott. You don't know me but I know you. Your life so far has
> not been the media circus you desire but a mediocre circus, pitifully
> reaching for greatness through desperate means and dishonest measures.
> You have wasted your time clinging to symbols of the past, never truly
> living your life and appreciating what you have. Now I offer you this one
> chance to free yourself of the thing that holds you back, of the
> obsessions that have become your prison. Watch carefully, Scott'.
>
> Scott continued his attempt to free himself of his bonds but his attention
> was drawn towards the door to the armoire slowly creaking open. In the
> armoire was a large container constructed of metal and glass and in the
> container looked to be some reel-to-reel recordings, a collection of video
> cassettes and some papers. Scott started to shake his head from side to
> side screaming 'No! No!' The voice continued:
>
> 'On the underside of the right arm of your chair is a switch. You have
> thirty seconds to press that switch before the electrode strapped to your
> head delivers a fatal current. However in order to save your life, you
> must be prepared to make a sacrifice. Once you press that switch you will
> be freed but your California Jam recordings, Nuclear Warrior cassettes,
> WWF video cassettes and press articles will be burned forever.
>
> 'Live or die, Scott. Make your choice.'
>
> Above the armoire the bright red LED display of a digital clock began
> counting down:
>
> 30
> 29
> 28
>
> Scott opened his mouth and screamed 'No! You can't do this to me! I make
> the only press that matters. There is no one else but me. No!'
>
> 19
> 18
> 17
>
> Still Scott shouted and screamed: 'I taught Hendrix how to play guitar.
> John Lennon was nothing without me!'
>
> 12
> 11
> 10
>
> 'You bastard! Where are you? Where are you, you bastard? I'll
> fucking...'
>
> 2
> 1
> 0
>
> 'Ghack!'
>
> Scott's entire body went rigid as five amperes of current at two thousand
> volts coursed through him. His skin became red due to the electricity
> forcing blood to the surface and his mouth steadily foamed as his body
> violently jerked. Steam began to rise as he danced his last fandango and
> when the electricity stopped he slumped in his chair dead.
>
> Such was the power and strength of Scott's conviction that he wouldn't
> turn his back on Nuclear Warrior and the Wereo even on pain of death.
I like it! If it's awl original, you, sir, are a writer. However I'm getting
the feeling this may be a "fill in the form" letter.
I am still the only one who matters.
|
|
|
|
Re: Wereo erased: The only story that matters - SmucKKKy - 6-:16 -0-09-20
|
|
In article <b1QZl.25668$IP7.25082@newsfe23.iad>,
"WeReo_ScoTTy" <ScoTTo@newsserver.net> wrote:
> "iSaw" <eyesore@hacked-off.org> wrote in message
> news:h187ov$dmi$1@news.eternal-september.org...
> > Scott Lifshine awoke sitting in a chair in a run-down apartment somewhere
> > in New York. He had been out for some time but it did not feel like
> > sleep; it was more akin to oblivion. After the last vestiges of fog
> > cleared from his mind he began to move slowly with the intention of
> > standing up but the pressure against his wrists and legs told him that it
> > would be futile. He looked down at his bonds and as he did so the feeling
> > of weight on his head was suggestive of a ten-pound hat. As he blinked
> > and took in the details of the room - the decrepit floorboards and peeling
> > walls, the light bulb hanging naked from the ceiling and the old armoire
> > in the corner - he started to scream and shout, his arms and legs
> > straining against their bonds.
> >
> > At that moment, a television lurking in the corner hitherto unnoticed by
> > Scott came to life, the random static image giving way to a close up shot
> > of a sinister looking puppet with concentric red circles painted beneath
> > its deep black eyes. The puppet's head turned to face the camera and its
> > mouth moved in a parody of speech as it uttered the following words in a
> > sub-octave voice that caused the hair on the back of Scott's arms to stand
> > on end:
> >
> > 'Hello Scott. You don't know me but I know you. Your life so far has
> > not been the media circus you desire but a mediocre circus, pitifully
> > reaching for greatness through desperate means and dishonest measures.
> > You have wasted your time clinging to symbols of the past, never truly
> > living your life and appreciating what you have. Now I offer you this one
> > chance to free yourself of the thing that holds you back, of the
> > obsessions that have become your prison. Watch carefully, Scott'.
> >
> > Scott continued his attempt to free himself of his bonds but his attention
> > was drawn towards the door to the armoire slowly creaking open. In the
> > armoire was a large container constructed of metal and glass and in the
> > container looked to be some reel-to-reel recordings, a collection of video
> > cassettes and some papers. Scott started to shake his head from side to
> > side screaming 'No! No!' The voice continued:
> >
> > 'On the underside of the right arm of your chair is a switch. You have
> > thirty seconds to press that switch before the electrode strapped to your
> > head delivers a fatal current. However in order to save your life, you
> > must be prepared to make a sacrifice. Once you press that switch you will
> > be freed but your California Jam recordings, Nuclear Warrior cassettes,
> > WWF video cassettes and press articles will be burned forever.
> >
> > 'Live or die, Scott. Make your choice.'
> >
> > Above the armoire the bright red LED display of a digital clock began
> > counting down:
> >
> > 30
> > 29
> > 28
> >
> > Scott opened his mouth and screamed 'No! You can't do this to me! I make
> > the only press that matters. There is no one else but me. No!'
> >
> > 19
> > 18
> > 17
> >
> > Still Scott shouted and screamed: 'I taught Hendrix how to play guitar.
> > John Lennon was nothing without me!'
> >
> > 12
> > 11
> > 10
> >
> > 'You bastard! Where are you? Where are you, you bastard? I'll
> > fucking...'
> >
> > 2
> > 1
> > 0
> >
> > 'Ghack!'
> >
> > Scott's entire body went rigid as five amperes of current at two thousand
> > volts coursed through him. His skin became red due to the electricity
> > forcing blood to the surface and his mouth steadily foamed as his body
> > violently jerked. Steam began to rise as he danced his last fandango and
> > when the electricity stopped he slumped in his chair dead.
> >
> > Such was the power and strength of Scott's conviction that he wouldn't
> > turn his back on Nuclear Warrior and the Wereo even on pain of death.
> I like it! If it's awl original, you, sir, are a writer. However I'm getting
> the feeling this may be a "fill in the form" letter.
>
> I am still the only one who matters.
Don¹t get to the movies much do u PiGGy?
u are SO INCREDIBLY FUCKING STUPID
But that interview was the best laff I had for a while
LIE some more and tell us AWL how well it went u IDIOT ASSHOLE MORON
--
^o|o^
-----
|
|
|
|
Re: Wereo erased: The only story that matters - Voice of Reason - 6-:16 -0-09-20
|
|
On Jun 16, 11:46=A0am, "WeReo_ScoTTy" <Sco...@newsserver.net> wrote:
> "iSaw" <eyes...@hacked-off.org> wrote in message
>
> news:h187ov$dmi$1@news.eternal-september.org...
>
> > Scott Lifshine awoke sitting in a chair in a run-down apartment somewhe=
re
> > in New York. =A0He had been out for some time but it did not feel like
> > sleep; it was more akin to oblivion. =A0After the last vestiges of fog
> > cleared from his mind he began to move slowly with the intention of
> > standing up but the pressure against his wrists and legs told him that =
it
> > would be futile. =A0He looked down at his bonds and as he did so the fe=
eling
> > of weight on his head was suggestive of a ten-pound hat. =A0As he blink=
ed
> > and took in the details of the room - the decrepit floorboards and peel=
ing
> > walls, the light bulb hanging naked from the ceiling and the old armoir=
e
> > in the corner - he started to scream and shout, his arms and legs
> > straining against their bonds.
>
> > At that moment, a television lurking in the corner hitherto unnoticed b=
y
> > Scott came to life, the random static image giving way to a close up sh=
ot
> > of a sinister looking puppet with concentric red circles painted beneat=
h
> > its deep black eyes. =A0The puppet's head turned to face the camera and=
its
> > mouth moved in a parody of speech as it uttered the following words in =
a
> > sub-octave voice that caused the hair on the back of Scott's arms to st=
and
> > on end:
>
> > =A0 'Hello Scott. =A0You don't know me but I know you. =A0Your life so =
far has
> > not been the media circus you desire but a mediocre circus, pitifully
> > reaching for greatness through desperate means and dishonest measures.
> > You have wasted your time clinging to symbols of the past, never truly
> > living your life and appreciating what you have. =A0Now I offer you thi=
s one
> > chance to free yourself of the thing that holds you back, of the
> > obsessions that have become your prison. =A0Watch carefully, Scott'.
>
> > Scott continued his attempt to free himself of his bonds but his attent=
ion
> > was drawn towards the door to the armoire slowly creaking open. =A0In t=
he
> > armoire was a large container constructed of metal and glass and in the
> > container looked to be some reel-to-reel recordings, a collection of vi=
deo
> > cassettes and some papers. =A0Scott started to shake his head from side=
to
> > side screaming 'No! =A0No!' =A0The voice continued:
>
> > =A0 'On the underside of the right arm of your chair is a switch. =A0Yo=
u have
> > thirty seconds to press that switch before the electrode strapped to yo=
ur
> > head delivers a fatal current. =A0However in order to save your life, y=
ou
> > must be prepared to make a sacrifice. =A0Once you press that switch you=
will
> > be freed but your California Jam recordings, Nuclear Warrior cassettes,
> > WWF video cassettes and press articles will be burned forever.
>
> > =A0 'Live or die, Scott. =A0Make your choice.'
>
> > Above the armoire the bright red LED display of a digital clock began
> > counting down:
>
> > 30
> > 29
> > 28
>
> > Scott opened his mouth and screamed 'No! =A0You can't do this to me! =
=A0I make
> > the only press that matters. =A0There is no one else but me. =A0No!'
>
> > 19
> > 18
> > 17
>
> > Still Scott shouted and screamed: 'I taught Hendrix how to play guitar.
> > John Lennon was nothing without me!'
>
> > 12
> > 11
> > 10
>
> > 'You bastard! =A0Where are you? =A0Where are you, you bastard? =A0I'll
> > fucking...'
>
> > 2
> > 1
> > 0
>
> > 'Ghack!'
>
> > Scott's entire body went rigid as five amperes of current at two thousa=
nd
> > volts coursed through him. =A0His skin became red due to the electricit=
y
> > forcing blood to the surface and his mouth steadily foamed as his body
> > violently jerked. =A0Steam began to rise as he danced his last fandango=
and
> > when the electricity stopped he slumped in his chair dead.
>
> > Such was the power and strength of Scott's conviction that he wouldn't
> > turn his back on Nuclear Warrior and the Wereo even on pain of death.
>
> I like it! If it's awl original, you, sir, are a writer. However I'm gett=
ing
> the feeling this may be a "fill in the form" letter.
>
> I am still the only one who matters.
When I read the title of this thread, you can imagine how frightened I
was. The mere thought of the Wereo being erased is pure horror!
You are the only one who matters, and your recordings are the only
ones worth preserving - even if it means making the ultimate
sacrifice.
The Wereo must prevail.
Amen. :-)
|
|
|
|
Re: Wereo erased: The only story that matters - Voice of Reason - 6-:16 -0-09-20
|
|
On Jun 16, 11:46=A0am, "WeReo_ScoTTy" <Sco...@newsserver.net> wrote:
> "iSaw" <eyes...@hacked-off.org> wrote in message
>
> news:h187ov$dmi$1@news.eternal-september.org...
>
> > Scott Lifshine awoke sitting in a chair in a run-down apartment somewhe=
re
> > in New York. =A0He had been out for some time but it did not feel like
> > sleep; it was more akin to oblivion. =A0After the last vestiges of fog
> > cleared from his mind he began to move slowly with the intention of
> > standing up but the pressure against his wrists and legs told him that =
it
> > would be futile. =A0He looked down at his bonds and as he did so the fe=
eling
> > of weight on his head was suggestive of a ten-pound hat. =A0As he blink=
ed
> > and took in the details of the room - the decrepit floorboards and peel=
ing
> > walls, the light bulb hanging naked from the ceiling and the old armoir=
e
> > in the corner - he started to scream and shout, his arms and legs
> > straining against their bonds.
>
> > At that moment, a television lurking in the corner hitherto unnoticed b=
y
> > Scott came to life, the random static image giving way to a close up sh=
ot
> > of a sinister looking puppet with concentric red circles painted beneat=
h
> > its deep black eyes. =A0The puppet's head turned to face the camera and=
its
> > mouth moved in a parody of speech as it uttered the following words in =
a
> > sub-octave voice that caused the hair on the back of Scott's arms to st=
and
> > on end:
>
> > =A0 'Hello Scott. =A0You don't know me but I know you. =A0Your life so =
far has
> > not been the media circus you desire but a mediocre circus, pitifully
> > reaching for greatness through desperate means and dishonest measures.
> > You have wasted your time clinging to symbols of the past, never truly
> > living your life and appreciating what you have. =A0Now I offer you thi=
s one
> > chance to free yourself of the thing that holds you back, of the
> > obsessions that have become your prison. =A0Watch carefully, Scott'.
>
> > Scott continued his attempt to free himself of his bonds but his attent=
ion
> > was drawn towards the door to the armoire slowly creaking open. =A0In t=
he
> > armoire was a large container constructed of metal and glass and in the
> > container looked to be some reel-to-reel recordings, a collection of vi=
deo
> > cassettes and some papers. =A0Scott started to shake his head from side=
to
> > side screaming 'No! =A0No!' =A0The voice continued:
>
> > =A0 'On the underside of the right arm of your chair is a switch. =A0Yo=
u have
> > thirty seconds to press that switch before the electrode strapped to yo=
ur
> > head delivers a fatal current. =A0However in order to save your life, y=
ou
> > must be prepared to make a sacrifice. =A0Once you press that switch you=
will
> > be freed but your California Jam recordings, Nuclear Warrior cassettes,
> > WWF video cassettes and press articles will be burned forever.
>
> > =A0 'Live or die, Scott. =A0Make your choice.'
>
> > Above the armoire the bright red LED display of a digital clock began
> > counting down:
>
> > 30
> > 29
> > 28
>
> > Scott opened his mouth and screamed 'No! =A0You can't do this to me! =
=A0I make
> > the only press that matters. =A0There is no one else but me. =A0No!'
>
> > 19
> > 18
> > 17
>
> > Still Scott shouted and screamed: 'I taught Hendrix how to play guitar.
> > John Lennon was nothing without me!'
>
> > 12
> > 11
> > 10
>
> > 'You bastard! =A0Where are you? =A0Where are you, you bastard? =A0I'll
> > fucking...'
>
> > 2
> > 1
> > 0
>
> > 'Ghack!'
>
> > Scott's entire body went rigid as five amperes of current at two thousa=
nd
> > volts coursed through him. =A0His skin became red due to the electricit=
y
> > forcing blood to the surface and his mouth steadily foamed as his body
> > violently jerked. =A0Steam began to rise as he danced his last fandango=
and
> > when the electricity stopped he slumped in his chair dead.
>
> > Such was the power and strength of Scott's conviction that he wouldn't
> > turn his back on Nuclear Warrior and the Wereo even on pain of death.
>
> I like it! If it's awl original, you, sir, are a writer. However I'm gett=
ing
> the feeling this may be a "fill in the form" letter.
>
> I am still the only one who matters.
Realizing how close we came to losing the Wereo makes me want to
promote it more than ever, Scott.
Just in case anyone hasn't seen my independent YouTube film dedicated
to glorifying the Wereo and humiliating its detractors:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3DhH37y4W5W5w&feature=3Dchannel_page
|
|
|
|
Re: Wereo erased: The only story that matters - POGO PUNY - 6-:16 -0-09-20
|
|
In article
<c1e0733f-beb5-449c-8638-dd5db8bea299@f19g2000yqh.googlegroups.com>,
Voice of Reason <locust.of.control@gmail.com> wrote:
> On Jun 16, 11:46 am, "WeReo_ScoTTy" <Sco...@newsserver.net> wrote:
> > "iSaw" <eyes...@hacked-off.org> wrote in message
> >
> > news:h187ov$dmi$1@news.eternal-september.org...
> >
> > > Scott Lifshine awoke sitting in a chair in a run-down apartment somewhere
> > > in New York. He had been out for some time but it did not feel like
> > > sleep; it was more akin to oblivion. After the last vestiges of fog
> > > cleared from his mind he began to move slowly with the intention of
> > > standing up but the pressure against his wrists and legs told him that it
> > > would be futile. He looked down at his bonds and as he did so the feeling
> > > of weight on his head was suggestive of a ten-pound hat. As he blinked
> > > and took in the details of the room - the decrepit floorboards and peeling
> > > walls, the light bulb hanging naked from the ceiling and the old armoire
> > > in the corner - he started to scream and shout, his arms and legs
> > > straining against their bonds.
> >
> > > At that moment, a television lurking in the corner hitherto unnoticed by
> > > Scott came to life, the random static image giving way to a close up shot
> > > of a sinister looking puppet with concentric red circles painted beneath
> > > its deep black eyes. The puppet's head turned to face the camera and its
> > > mouth moved in a parody of speech as it uttered the following words in a
> > > sub-octave voice that caused the hair on the back of Scott's arms to stand
> > > on end:
> >
> > > 'Hello Scott. You don't know me but I know you. Your life so far has
> > > not been the media circus you desire but a mediocre circus, pitifully
> > > reaching for greatness through desperate means and dishonest measures.
> > > You have wasted your time clinging to symbols of the past, never truly
> > > living your life and appreciating what you have. Now I offer you this one
> > > chance to free yourself of the thing that holds you back, of the
> > > obsessions that have become your prison. Watch carefully, Scott'.
> >
> > > Scott continued his attempt to free himself of his bonds but his attention
> > > was drawn towards the door to the armoire slowly creaking open. In the
> > > armoire was a large container constructed of metal and glass and in the
> > > container looked to be some reel-to-reel recordings, a collection of video
> > > cassettes and some papers. Scott started to shake his head from side to
> > > side screaming 'No! No!' The voice continued:
> >
> > > 'On the underside of the right arm of your chair is a switch. You have
> > > thirty seconds to press that switch before the electrode strapped to your
> > > head delivers a fatal current. However in order to save your life, you
> > > must be prepared to make a sacrifice. Once you press that switch you will
> > > be freed but your California Jam recordings, Nuclear Warrior cassettes,
> > > WWF video cassettes and press articles will be burned forever.
> >
> > > 'Live or die, Scott. Make your choice.'
> >
> > > Above the armoire the bright red LED display of a digital clock began
> > > counting down:
> >
> > > 30
> > > 29
> > > 28
> >
> > > Scott opened his mouth and screamed 'No! You can't do this to me! I make
> > > the only press that matters. There is no one else but me. No!'
> >
> > > 19
> > > 18
> > > 17
> >
> > > Still Scott shouted and screamed: 'I taught Hendrix how to play guitar.
> > > John Lennon was nothing without me!'
> >
> > > 12
> > > 11
> > > 10
> >
> > > 'You bastard! Where are you? Where are you, you bastard? I'll
> > > fucking...'
> >
> > > 2
> > > 1
> > > 0
> >
> > > 'Ghack!'
> >
> > > Scott's entire body went rigid as five amperes of current at two thousand
> > > volts coursed through him. His skin became red due to the electricity
> > > forcing blood to the surface and his mouth steadily foamed as his body
> > > violently jerked. Steam began to rise as he danced his last fandango and
> > > when the electricity stopped he slumped in his chair dead.
> >
> > > Such was the power and strength of Scott's conviction that he wouldn't
> > > turn his back on Nuclear Warrior and the Wereo even on pain of death.
> >
> > I like it! If it's awl original, you, sir, are a writer. However I'm getting
> > the feeling this may be a "fill in the form" letter.
> >
> > I am still the only one who matters.
>
>
> Realizing how close we came to losing the Wereo makes me want to
> promote it more than ever, Scott.
>
> Just in case anyone hasn't seen my independent YouTube film dedicated
> to glorifying the Wereo and humiliating its detractors:
>
> http://www.catchtherainbow.com/PiGGy.mp3
V.ery O.rdinary R.etard says WHAT while SUCKING CHILD MOLESTER PIG ASS?
|
|
|
|
Re: Wereo erased: The only story that matters - WeReo_ScoTTy - 6-:17 -0-09-20
|
|
"Voice of Reason" <locust.of.control@gmail.com> wrote in message
news:3fcfafb5-fc54-4cac-8c9d-64a6a4e61f35@h18g2000yqj.googlegroups.com...
On Jun 16, 11:46 am, "WeReo_ScoTTy" <Sco...@newsserver.net> wrote:
> "iSaw" <eyes...@hacked-off.org> wrote in message
>
> news:h187ov$dmi$1@news.eternal-september.org...
>
> > Scott Lifshine awoke sitting in a chair in a run-down apartment
> > somewhere
> > in New York. He had been out for some time but it did not feel like
> > sleep; it was more akin to oblivion. After the last vestiges of fog
> > cleared from his mind he began to move slowly with the intention of
> > standing up but the pressure against his wrists and legs told him that
> > it
> > would be futile. He looked down at his bonds and as he did so the
> > feeling
> > of weight on his head was suggestive of a ten-pound hat. As he blinked
> > and took in the details of the room - the decrepit floorboards and
> > peeling
> > walls, the light bulb hanging naked from the ceiling and the old armoire
> > in the corner - he started to scream and shout, his arms and legs
> > straining against their bonds.
>
> > At that moment, a television lurking in the corner hitherto unnoticed by
> > Scott came to life, the random static image giving way to a close up
> > shot
> > of a sinister looking puppet with concentric red circles painted beneath
> > its deep black eyes. The puppet's head turned to face the camera and its
> > mouth moved in a parody of speech as it uttered the following words in a
> > sub-octave voice that caused the hair on the back of Scott's arms to
> > stand
> > on end:
>
> > 'Hello Scott. You don't know me but I know you. Your life so far has
> > not been the media circus you desire but a mediocre circus, pitifully
> > reaching for greatness through desperate means and dishonest measures.
> > You have wasted your time clinging to symbols of the past, never truly
> > living your life and appreciating what you have. Now I offer you this
> > one
> > chance to free yourself of the thing that holds you back, of the
> > obsessions that have become your prison. Watch carefully, Scott'.
>
> > Scott continued his attempt to free himself of his bonds but his
> > attention
> > was drawn towards the door to the armoire slowly creaking open. In the
> > armoire was a large container constructed of metal and glass and in the
> > container looked to be some reel-to-reel recordings, a collection of
> > video
> > cassettes and some papers. Scott started to shake his head from side to
> > side screaming 'No! No!' The voice continued:
>
> > 'On the underside of the right arm of your chair is a switch. You have
> > thirty seconds to press that switch before the electrode strapped to
> > your
> > head delivers a fatal current. However in order to save your life, you
> > must be prepared to make a sacrifice. Once you press that switch you
> > will
> > be freed but your California Jam recordings, Nuclear Warrior cassettes,
> > WWF video cassettes and press articles will be burned forever.
>
> > 'Live or die, Scott. Make your choice.'
>
> > Above the armoire the bright red LED display of a digital clock began
> > counting down:
>
> > 30
> > 29
> > 28
>
> > Scott opened his mouth and screamed 'No! You can't do this to me! I make
> > the only press that matters. There is no one else but me. No!'
>
> > 19
> > 18
> > 17
>
> > Still Scott shouted and screamed: 'I taught Hendrix how to play guitar.
> > John Lennon was nothing without me!'
>
> > 12
> > 11
> > 10
>
> > 'You bastard! Where are you? Where are you, you bastard? I'll
> > fucking...'
>
> > 2
> > 1
> > 0
>
> > 'Ghack!'
>
> > Scott's entire body went rigid as five amperes of current at two
> > thousand
> > volts coursed through him. His skin became red due to the electricity
> > forcing blood to the surface and his mouth steadily foamed as his body
> > violently jerked. Steam began to rise as he danced his last fandango and
> > when the electricity stopped he slumped in his chair dead.
>
> > Such was the power and strength of Scott's conviction that he wouldn't
> > turn his back on Nuclear Warrior and the Wereo even on pain of death.
>
> I like it! If it's awl original, you, sir, are a writer. However I'm
> getting
> the feeling this may be a "fill in the form" letter.
>
> I am still the only one who matters.
When I read the title of this thread, you can imagine how frightened I
was. The mere thought of the Wereo being erased is pure horror!
You are the only one who matters, and your recordings are the only
ones worth preserving - even if it means making the ultimate
sacrifice.
The Wereo must prevail.
Amen. :-)
Amen Sister VOR. The Wereo will prevail.
|
|
|
|
Re: Wereo erased: The only story that matters - WeReo_ScoTTy - 6-:17 -0-09-20
|
|
"Voice of Reason" <locust.of.control@gmail.com> wrote in message
news:c1e0733f-beb5-449c-8638-dd5db8bea299@f19g2000yqh.googlegroups.com...
On Jun 16, 11:46 am, "WeReo_ScoTTy" <Sco...@newsserver.net> wrote:
> "iSaw" <eyes...@hacked-off.org> wrote in message
>
> news:h187ov$dmi$1@news.eternal-september.org...
>
> > Scott Lifshine awoke sitting in a chair in a run-down apartment
> > somewhere
> > in New York. He had been out for some time but it did not feel like
> > sleep; it was more akin to oblivion. After the last vestiges of fog
> > cleared from his mind he began to move slowly with the intention of
> > standing up but the pressure against his wrists and legs told him that
> > it
> > would be futile. He looked down at his bonds and as he did so the
> > feeling
> > of weight on his head was suggestive of a ten-pound hat. As he blinked
> > and took in the details of the room - the decrepit floorboards and
> > peeling
> > walls, the light bulb hanging naked from the ceiling and the old armoire
> > in the corner - he started to scream and shout, his arms and legs
> > straining against their bonds.
>
> > At that moment, a television lurking in the corner hitherto unnoticed by
> > Scott came to life, the random static image giving way to a close up
> > shot
> > of a sinister looking puppet with concentric red circles painted beneath
> > its deep black eyes. The puppet's head turned to face the camera and its
> > mouth moved in a parody of speech as it uttered the following words in a
> > sub-octave voice that caused the hair on the back of Scott's arms to
> > stand
> > on end:
>
> > 'Hello Scott. You don't know me but I know you. Your life so far has
> > not been the media circus you desire but a mediocre circus, pitifully
> > reaching for greatness through desperate means and dishonest measures.
> > You have wasted your time clinging to symbols of the past, never truly
> > living your life and appreciating what you have. Now I offer you this
> > one
> > chance to free yourself of the thing that holds you back, of the
> > obsessions that have become your prison. Watch carefully, Scott'.
>
> > Scott continued his attempt to free himself of his bonds but his
> > attention
> > was drawn towards the door to the armoire slowly creaking open. In the
> > armoire was a large container constructed of metal and glass and in the
> > container looked to be some reel-to-reel recordings, a collection of
> > video
> > cassettes and some papers. Scott started to shake his head from side to
> > side screaming 'No! No!' The voice continued:
>
> > 'On the underside of the right arm of your chair is a switch. You have
> > thirty seconds to press that switch before the electrode strapped to
> > your
> > head delivers a fatal current. However in order to save your life, you
> > must be prepared to make a sacrifice. Once you press that switch you
> > will
> > be freed but your California Jam recordings, Nuclear Warrior cassettes,
> > WWF video cassettes and press articles will be burned forever.
>
> > 'Live or die, Scott. Make your choice.'
>
> > Above the armoire the bright red LED display of a digital clock began
> > counting down:
>
> > 30
> > 29
> > 28
>
> > Scott opened his mouth and screamed 'No! You can't do this to me! I make
> > the only press that matters. There is no one else but me. No!'
>
> > 19
> > 18
> > 17
>
> > Still Scott shouted and screamed: 'I taught Hendrix how to play guitar.
> > John Lennon was nothing without me!'
>
> > 12
> > 11
> > 10
>
> > 'You bastard! Where are you? Where are you, you bastard? I'll
> > fucking...'
>
> > 2
> > 1
> > 0
>
> > 'Ghack!'
>
> > Scott's entire body went rigid as five amperes of current at two
> > thousand
> > volts coursed through him. His skin became red due to the electricity
> > forcing blood to the surface and his mouth steadily foamed as his body
> > violently jerked. Steam began to rise as he danced his last fandango and
> > when the electricity stopped he slumped in his chair dead.
>
> > Such was the power and strength of Scott's conviction that he wouldn't
> > turn his back on Nuclear Warrior and the Wereo even on pain of death.
>
> I like it! If it's awl original, you, sir, are a writer. However I'm
> getting
> the feeling this may be a "fill in the form" letter.
>
> I am still the only one who matters.
Realizing how close we came to losing the Wereo makes me want to
promote it more than ever, Scott.
Just in case anyone hasn't seen my independent YouTube film dedicated
to glorifying the Wereo and humiliating its detractors:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hH37y4W5W5w&feature=channel_page
They can only muse and pundit. They are powerless to stop the Glory of the
Wereo Sister VOR.
|
|
|
|
Re: Wereo erased: The only story that matters - Desk Rabbit - 6-:17 -0-09-20
|
|
WeReo_ScoTTy wrote:
> "Voice of Reason" <locust.of.control@gmail.com> wrote in message
> news:c1e0733f-beb5-449c-8638-dd5db8bea299@f19g2000yqh.googlegroups.com...
> On Jun 16, 11:46 am, "WeReo_ScoTTy" <Sco...@newsserver.net> wrote:
>> "iSaw" <eyes...@hacked-off.org> wrote in message
>>
>> news:h187ov$dmi$1@news.eternal-september.org...
>>
>>> Scott Lifshine awoke sitting in a chair in a run-down apartment
>>> somewhere
>>> in New York. He had been out for some time but it did not feel like
>>> sleep; it was more akin to oblivion. After the last vestiges of fog
>>> cleared from his mind he began to move slowly with the intention of
>>> standing up but the pressure against his wrists and legs told him that
>>> it
>>> would be futile. He looked down at his bonds and as he did so the
>>> feeling
>>> of weight on his head was suggestive of a ten-pound hat. As he blinked
>>> and took in the details of the room - the decrepit floorboards and
>>> peeling
>>> walls, the light bulb hanging naked from the ceiling and the old armoire
>>> in the corner - he started to scream and shout, his arms and legs
>>> straining against their bonds.
>>> At that moment, a television lurking in the corner hitherto unnoticed by
>>> Scott came to life, the random static image giving way to a close up
>>> shot
>>> of a sinister looking puppet with concentric red circles painted beneath
>>> its deep black eyes. The puppet's head turned to face the camera and its
>>> mouth moved in a parody of speech as it uttered the following words in a
>>> sub-octave voice that caused the hair on the back of Scott's arms to
>>> stand
>>> on end:
>>> 'Hello Scott. You don't know me but I know you. Your life so far has
>>> not been the media circus you desire but a mediocre circus, pitifully
>>> reaching for greatness through desperate means and dishonest measures.
>>> You have wasted your time clinging to symbols of the past, never truly
>>> living your life and appreciating what you have. Now I offer you this
>>> one
>>> chance to free yourself of the thing that holds you back, of the
>>> obsessions that have become your prison. Watch carefully, Scott'.
>>> Scott continued his attempt to free himself of his bonds but his
>>> attention
>>> was drawn towards the door to the armoire slowly creaking open. In the
>>> armoire was a large container constructed of metal and glass and in the
>>> container looked to be some reel-to-reel recordings, a collection of
>>> video
>>> cassettes and some papers. Scott started to shake his head from side to
>>> side screaming 'No! No!' The voice continued:
>>> 'On the underside of the right arm of your chair is a switch. You have
>>> thirty seconds to press that switch before the electrode strapped to
>>> your
>>> head delivers a fatal current. However in order to save your life, you
>>> must be prepared to make a sacrifice. Once you press that switch you
>>> will
>>> be freed but your California Jam recordings, Nuclear Warrior cassettes,
>>> WWF video cassettes and press articles will be burned forever.
>>> 'Live or die, Scott. Make your choice.'
>>> Above the armoire the bright red LED display of a digital clock began
>>> counting down:
>>> 30
>>> 29
>>> 28
>>> Scott opened his mouth and screamed 'No! You can't do this to me! I make
>>> the only press that matters. There is no one else but me. No!'
>>> 19
>>> 18
>>> 17
>>> Still Scott shouted and screamed: 'I taught Hendrix how to play guitar.
>>> John Lennon was nothing without me!'
>>> 12
>>> 11
>>> 10
>>> 'You bastard! Where are you? Where are you, you bastard? I'll
>>> fucking...'
>>> 2
>>> 1
>>> 0
>>> 'Ghack!'
>>> Scott's entire body went rigid as five amperes of current at two
>>> thousand
>>> volts coursed through him. His skin became red due to the electricity
>>> forcing blood to the surface and his mouth steadily foamed as his body
>>> violently jerked. Steam began to rise as he danced his last fandango and
>>> when the electricity stopped he slumped in his chair dead.
>>> Such was the power and strength of Scott's conviction that he wouldn't
>>> turn his back on Nuclear Warrior and the Wereo even on pain of death.
>> I like it! If it's awl original, you, sir, are a writer. However I'm
>> getting
>> the feeling this may be a "fill in the form" letter.
>>
>> I am still the only one who matters.
>
>
> Realizing how close we came to losing the Wereo makes me want to
> promote it more than ever, Scott.
>
> Just in case anyone hasn't seen my independent YouTube film dedicated
> to glorifying the Wereo and humiliating its detractors:
>
> http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hH37y4W5W5w&feature=channel_page
> They can only muse and pundit. They are powerless to stop the Glory of the
> Wereo Sister VOR.
Only you could could be so fucking stupid, thick, dense and ignorant
enough to not recognise when somebody is taking the piss out of you and
see it as adulation.
You completely, utterly useless wank stain.
|
|
|
|
|
|
