[written in January 1988 for USENET, after we learned that some of the original Amiga team were brought back to resume their work] /*** Ok fellas, the following was written late at night, when this fit of unrestrained silliness swept over me. I apologize to those involved, but I just had to do it. ***/ parody_bit=ON; The lights dim, the curtains part, there is an anticipitory hush sweeping over the audience. [cue announcer, cue Dramatic John Williams Theme] Announcer : Ladeeeez, and Gentlemen, 200 million years ago, life as we know it crawled from the slime pits onto dry land. 2 million years ago, man as we know him (or her) evolved from the lowly ape (except for GEM programmers who evolved from some form of kiwi fruit). And, it was only a mere 2 1/2 years ago that man (except for GEM programmers) finally became civilized with the introduction of (drum roll)>>>the AMIGA<<>>Real Jobs<<<. And finally, in March, 1987, Amiga Los Gatos, signed off of "The Net" for the last time. Evil had, as it seemed, triumphed. Or had it. [lighter upbeat somewhat stupid sounding music] But then the terms "A500" and "A2000" circulated among the ranks and the sleeping giant gradually opened one eye. A new day was dawning. Birds were singing, Commodore was making money, computers were delivered only 3 months late! [pause for gasp] Television ads were purchased, and the news broke! Los Gatos would reopen! Thus we present - -------------------------------- AMIGA : The Next Generation -------------------------------- Thrill to the intergalactic exploits of Captain Dale skillfully guiding the StarChip Enterboing(); thru countless earth saving adventures, making the world safe to meet girls. *** [cut to sleek, sterile bridge, with lotz of pseudo-mystical vapor flowing around the floor. Colored monitors circle the walls, displaying pie-charts, a wonderful astronomy program (only $69.95, "at a store near you"), and extruded tumbling logos] Kodiak : Sir, enemy TOSFighters at 3-o'clock! Dale : Damn that Darth Tramiel! Ensign Jim : I understand those uncivilized barbarians don't even have submenus. Science officer Dave : Warning, their blitters have been enabled. Funny, I don't seem to notice any difference. Dale : Me neither. Arm the underscore torpedos, fire one. . ., fire two. . . Dave : Their crashing sir, those cute little "bombs" are appearing everywhere *** Announcer : Your spine will tingle as the Enterboing soars into the unknown meeting mediocrity at every turn. *** Jim : Captain, up ahead, look at that giant IBM! Dale : (leaning forward thoughtfully) That's no IBM, that's a Mac II it just looks like an IBM ensign, don't they ever teach you guys anything in MouseFleet Academy? Counselor : Sir, I feel this, this great pain. . . Dale : Either your underwear is too tight again or the Mac is trying to mulit-task. [beep, beep, beep, and beep] Dave : Sir! MultiFinder has just been activated. . . Dale : Standby! Well show them. . . AddTask()!!! Dave : Task added. Dale : Again! Bring up a clock, notepad, and, oh how I hate to do this, a spreadsheet. Dave : Done sir. Dale : Play a song! Print a letter! Show little sparkling thingies on the workbench screen! Jim : He's fleeing sir, Ha ha ha, what a coward. Nice monitor though. *** Announcer : Your ears will go numb when finally our heros encounter. . . *** Dave : There she is sir (in a hushed whisper) Dale : Feast your eyes on that guys as there's no greater hive of scum and villany in the known universe. Jim : Sir, I'm scared. Dale : I don't blame you, no one has successfully battled (ta dum) BIG BLUE. (emotion sensors automatically dim the bridge lights and illuminate the captains face with a dramatic lateral beam) [a fuzzy picture appears on the screen. The captain of Big Blue stands in the center wearing a handsome 3 piece suit, his crew in the background in their freshly starched shirts, one of them straightens his tie, another blowdrys his hair] Dave : (Whispers) Fascinating, they look exactly alike. . . BB Captain : Enterboing, this is Commendante Watson, you have invaded the "Office Zone", this is certainly no place for a mere Game Machine. Go back to the "hacker zone" where you belong, Ha ha ha ha . . . If not, we shall be forced to take action, Real Soon Now! [picture fades] Jim : Ha! What can they do. Dave : Captian, they're firing TV ads at us, lots of them starring washed up comic actors. Dale : Playing rough are they? Eh? Take evasive acti. . . [But before the Captain can finish an ad hits, the lights flicker and the movie camera tilts, everyone leans in their chairs. Sparklers behind the screens ignite and the Science officer jumps away from his post] Jim : Kodiak, he's injured help him! Kodiak : Dammit Jim, I'm a hacker not a. . . [One by one Kickstart hands pop up on the monitors as systems begin to fail] Kodiak : Bummer, all the way back to Kickstart, and those are 500s! Dale : Activate, "The Shield" Jim : No! Not "The Shield"! Dale : Do as I say ensign. . . [Thousands of old Amiga Testflight videos are hurled towards the oncoming rush of TV spots deflecting them left and right] Kodiak : It's working sir. . . Dave : BPTRs at 9 o'clock, 12 o'clock eastern time. Dale : Damn, they know our weakness. Activate the hacker gun, and we'll work around it. Dave : That does it sir, that quieted them. You're a genius. . . Dale : I know. Boarding party to the transporter room, we're going aboard and see what we're really up against. [crew materialzes in an empty, dark space, breifcases lie scattered around as if the Big Blue crew made a hurried escape down the micro-channel] Jim : Captian, it's empty and dark, just like the announcer said. Dale : What do you expect for a computer without an operating system. Jim : Over there, in the shadows, look, that dwarf. . . Dale : . . .MS-DOS, leave him alone, he's harmless . . . *** Announcer : And so, recognizing the right of all operating systems to live and die on their own merits, the crew of StarChip Enterboing leaves the "Office Zone" to soar back to their own Universe were computers don't grovel on their masters's desks crunching boring spreadsheets, but instead may be found in artist studios designing stained-glass windows, or helping the handicapped communicate, making music, adding graphics to recently cancelled TV shows, and doing alot of other >>>Neat Stuff<<<.(echo : "Neat stuff, neat stuff, . . .stuff, . . .uff) [America the Beautiful fades up in the background] Yes, this is a universe where computers can be computers, and programmers should be worshipped (and wear capes if they want to) and where the sun shines just a little brighter each day. *** [parting shot of Enterboing disappearing among the stars. Camera pans slowly across the sky] Dave : Sir, up ahead, dangling pointers Dale : Oh oh, The Smithwick Affect, mount VD0:, load memwatch, and we should make it through Dave : You're genius sir Dale : I know. . . *** [up suitably inspirational music, roll credits] ************************************************************************* To the guys back at Amiga - Amaze us again! ************************************************************************* High Voice : Hey anybody seen my new cape? Dale : How did he get in here? Voice : Recumbent StarChips, the only way to fly