Hello folks, I had a dream, it went like this: I am in a dark cave. I am barefoot and standing on damp moss covered granite. There is a slow but steady trickle of water running across the ground. My eyes begin to adjust to the darkness, I can see a faint glow emanating from a tunnel that leads out of the cave to my right. As I approach the glowing light low murmuring voices mingle with the gentle sound of running water. I realise that the voices are chanting softly. The tunnel leads to an adjoining chamber. Candles circle the chamber and cloaked hooded figures tread a slow circle around a pit. I glimpse a couple of faces, they look vaguely familiar, but I cannot place them. The chanting is louder now and I can make out the words "After all, you're my wonderwall, after all, you're my wonderwall..." Now they all stop and face the pit at the centre of the circle. One of the figures is dressed in a darker cloak to the others. This figure steps forward, as the others incant Stereophonics lyrics, and declares that it is time for the sacrifice. Eight people in white shrouds are led to the edge of the pit. They seem to be in a trance. I recognise one or two of the cloaked figures now. They are journalists from the popular music press. The head music journalist raises his hand above his head. In his hand is a long curved knife. "Dark lord," he intones, "we offer you this indie pop band as sacrifice. In your name we neglect and dimiss the talented. In your name we shall champion the tuneless dirge of your evil spawn." I shudder involuntarily as a hissing sound comes from within the pit, something is alive in there, something evil. Suddenly there is a flash of silver, and a glimpse of red, as the shrouds tear from one of the sacrifies. Stuart Murdoch, for it is he, leaps five feet and seems to pause in mid-air before a dazzling white ball of light flies from his hand. The ball of light arcs around the chamber, and by the time Stuart has landed gently back on the ground each of the evil music journalists has crumpled to the floor. "You cannot withstand this light," cries Stuart, "for it is the light of truth." The hissing from the pit gets louder as the ball of light forms into a spear and returns to Stuart's hand. A gigantic snake-thing with a grotesque misformed head appears from the pit. It is Alan McGee. "Alan McGee!?" cries Stuart, "How can it be?" "Once I too enjoyed a good tune," hisses the grotesque snake-thing, "but now the power of the dark side courses through my veins. I shall not rest until all decent tunes have been laid waste, and the world knows only the pain and anguish of endlessly recycled seventies rock." "Then I must destroy you, for the kids!" cries Stuart, and he leaps towards the pit, hurling the spear of light at the snake-thing's grotesque head. The snake-thing lunges at Stuart with it's mouth wide open and it's fangs gleaming. Then I woke up. Kevan The Fat Slug *********************************** chickclick.com http://www.chickclick.com girl sites that don't fake it. http://www.chickmail.com sign up for your free email. *********************************** +----------------------------------------------------------------------+ +---+ Brought to you by the reborn Sinister mailing list +---+ To send to the list mail "sinister@majordomo.net". To unsubscribe send "unsubscribe sinister" or "unsubscribe sinister-digest" to "majordomo@majordomo.net". WWW: http://www.majordomo.net/sinister +-+ "legion of bedroom saddo devotees" "tech-heads and students" +-+ +-+ "the cardie wearing biscuit nibbling belle & sebastian list" +-+ +-+ "jelly-filled danishes" +-+ +----------------------------------------------------------------------+