At 02:10 PM 8/3/96 -0500, you wrote:

Nice. Are you coming to GenCon?
Quartzite, the 5th Dark Genaral.

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        NICE!?!?  NICE???   Is that NICE as in:
1) Yeah, okay, whatever.
2) (I'll just say something nice so he'll
    read the rest of my message.)
3) Barf! Hack! Gag!  Now look what you made me do!
4) (Censored).


        GENCON!?!?!   Just what the hell is GenCon?
I live in Kansas, for christ sake!  If I don't stretch
the string just right I lose my Internect connection!
Outside of the teeming metropolis of Lawrence, I doubt
anyone has ever heard of GenCon.  The Future Farmers
of America, Yes but nothing as sophisticated as a 'GenCon'.

        Look, kid, I've got a job, a mortgage, two cars
to pay for, a couple of teenagers mooching off my
generosity and wild animals roaming my back yard taking
turns trying to eat my one remaining dog.  I couldn't 
afford to go to a convention of any kind even if it
were held in the local feed store.  (Come to think of
it, we might have held some kind of Anime festival, of 
sorts, a few years ago.  I think there were a handful
of dog-eared old manga, some hand drawn pictures, and
some guy who ran around in a pink leotard and red wig
insisting he was 'Ranko Saotome'.  Wheeeee.)

        I've got to go now.  The wife says she's gettin
tired of cranking the hand generator and birds are
starting to roost on my string.


  -- Uncle Fester (Home on the range, better than drugs.)





Greg Sandborn	(aka: Uncle Fester)

Home on the range at:	sandborn@microlink.net
			sandborn@burnsmcd.com


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Pushing the envelope of fan fiction till my stamp gets canceled.