Hey, you'd think it'd be all right,

if I just crashed here tonight?

I'm in no shape for driving ,

and anyway I've got no place to go...

That about sums up why I'm still in BSE.

Happy 202 to you all. I realize that it's about nine months late, but hey- so is the reason for this rag. Oh, and as for the 'mid-year' in the graphic: I had plans on getting this out three months ago, but things change. I'm still keeping it as I plan on putting out an an end-of-year issue  (nyah!)

OOC Editorial : For Those of You That Slept Through It, and For the Record...

Well, BSE is still around, though barely. What caused this game go from a 50 -player (give or take 10) game, to a bare fraction of that, was a series of tragedies.

Toward the end of 2001, Slow Motion Games (SMG) gave BSE a holiday, with the intent of resuming in January 2002.

Meanwhile, work on an updated version of BSE tentatively named "BSE21" was going on. Plans were to introduce advanced play testing in 2002, then that changed to a phased-in roll-out (say that fast three times). 2002 wanders in, a month passes, and still no resumption of the original-flavor BSE or its 'new Coke' version. BSE gamers were wandering around the metaphorical desert, waiting for a sign.

Then lo and behold! The Gaming Moses comes down from the mountain (do they have mountains in Houston?) and announces that BSE is Dead. Finito. Toast. A psycho alien race called the FISH came in and killed everyone. That's it. End of story. You could almost hear the gleeful cackling as the hammer drove the stake home. No epitaph, no eulogy. Oh, few players tried to come up with something, but their efforts met with the back of Moses' hand: "Screw your ending. Stick a fork in it, it's done".

The new game's called Tales of the Haven Expanse (ToTHE) . The programmer and the gaming guru came up with a game story somewhat resembling a sci-fi European Union, without the Belgian bureaucrats.

The players that haven't quit burn their old BSE stuff and get ready for the new game. "Okay, so some aspects suck," they think, "but it's a fresh start."

But wait- SMG announces BSE is back, just as it was before the holiday shutdown! Yes, just as if it never had been enthusiastically and gleefully killed off just a few scant weeks before.

So now in September, we have two games. Neither of which is fully functioning product right now. The so-called replacement known as ToTHE has not yet started. The programmer, who I understand is quite able, has the disadvantage of working across the 'big pond', and is now working on the space combat portion of the game. No "offence" to him, but Tales of the Haven Expanse is really still in the alpha- development stage and a looong way from being playable. For those of you not familiar with the concept - think of all the marketing hoopla for "Phantom Menace" as compared to the actual film and you'd be close.

And then there's BSE. A game that was put to death by that now-fired cackling 'gaming guru' at Slow Motion Games, but has been revived, patched up, and dragged back on stage. There's maybe fifteen of the original players left (I'm being generous here) and everyone else who hasn't walked off in disgust is either waiting it out or running test positions in the new game. BSE will eventually get the same gaming engine and turn machine as ToTHE, but the rest of it will still be the same, with a few minor changes to be named later....

Anyone for a game of strip-poker instead?

Anyway, enough of my bitter editorializing. Like the song says, I've nowhere else to go. Harold Hedd and Duckbutt will cruise a few more strip joints until I decide to either keep playing BSE, play THE, or some other game. Call this a clean-up issue, or a transition issue, or whatever. I'll see what happens in the Fall; almost a year from when this all started.

Here's a final Ringbone submission from ex-BSE player, Ralph Gibbs:

Beyond The Foelian Theocracy

In 193, the pirate, historian and sociologist Dr. Salara Sassinak led the first human scientific expedition into the heart of the Foelian Empire. A former RIP leader from the House of Acoma, she's held a special longtime friendship with the now ArchPriest Whisper and the Foelian people which uniquely qualified her for this fact-finding mission. Her goal was to explore and document the Foelian way of life. She endured hardship and danger as she lived among the To'dedoe clan at the colony Citadel of Chaos located in the Mythos system for the last seven years in order to document the lifestyle and habits of the Foelian race. When Whisper became ArchPriest and moved to Citadel of Chaos, she felt it was time to end her observations in order to preserve its integrity. Therefore, early this year, Dr. Sassinak returned to the Detinas Republic and published a book documenting her sometimes perilous adventures, describing never before seen glimpses into hidden life of the Foelian people, their government, and religion. Here is an overview of her extraordinary book Beyond the Foelian Theocracy.

Celtians call them As'olina meaning "The Predators." Humans call them Demons, describing them as biblical nightmares. Whatever you end up calling them, their religious warrior culture probably makes them the most unique race in the universe. However, these same qualities also make them seem antithetical to every other race. Emperor Jasil once proclaimed "they have only one purpose and there is nothing they will not do to accomplish this, no matter how vile or loathsome it might be. These abominations mean to destroy everything proud and noble and everything we hold dear and have fought so long to achieve." This is not far from the truth.

To begin to understand the Foelian culture, you must first understand their history. The Foelians have a long and rich history of which they are very proud. If asked they will relate their history with pride and zeal. According to the three leading Priests and the book of Foebius, when dinosaurs still ruled the Earth, the Foelian's Dark Empire mercilessly ruled the Shadow Dimension. They had nearly a thousand years earlier enslaved and pillaged all other worlds in their quest for knowledge and power. The Shadow Dimension, as explained to me, is a parallel universe similar to this one except one of darkness.

From the moment the Foelians came into existence they have known nothing but warfare and conquest. Therefore, as the last vestiges of opposition fell in the Shadow Dimension, the Shadow Empire burned with savagery and chaos. The Foelians, without the unifying cohesion of warfare, soon fell upon each other in vain attempts to seize power and glory, then, in turn, fell victim to insidious and treacherous Foelians from within. Thus was heralded the Dark Age of the Foelian race. Fierce and ruthless wars raged for several millennia before three clans emerged as the most powerful: ArchPriest, Blood Priest and High Priest.

Then, as the three priests vied for control, out of the shadows of the Dark Empire came one who called himself Foebius, which literally translates -- God of the Foelians. Although I could not definitively learn how, he ended the strife between the three clans and appointed the ArchPriest, Blood Priest and High Priest as his religious leaders. It is widely believed by most Foelians that his very presence ended the fighting. Others believe that he simply appeared and challenged the three priests to single combat. After defeating them, they pledged him their loyalty. Regardless of how events unfolded, he was the undisputed ruler and God of the Foelians.

Artist Rendition of Foebius

After establishing himself as their God, Foebius proclaimed that it was time Foelians came together to conquer new lands and capture new technology. He ordered them to gather together from each of the three clans, the smartest, strongest and most vile of Foelians and return to his temple located in the soulless mountain range, one year hence.

It is written that one year later with three million forces gathered, the three clerics returned to Foebius' side. Foebius escorted the priests to three dark doorways leading to another realm -- a realm of light. He commanded them to enter each of the doorways and gain the knowledge necessary to bring the rest of the Dark Empire into this new realm of light so that it may be conquered, enslaved and the technology possessed by its inhabitants made their own.

With that, the Foelian priests entered the gates, each clan landing upon their own world and establishing separate colonies. The ArchPriest constructed Citadel of Chaos on Cerebus in the Mythos system, the Blood Priest established Bastion of Evil on Karigon in the Shenendehowa system and the High Priest built Altar of Pain on the planet Moresque in the Wren system. According to the Foelians, they arrived in this realm unencumbered with material possessions. For nearly a thousand years they created from nothing, colonies, industry and science before they were able to depart the world to search for the other clans. After reestablishing contact with other Foelian clans, they set forth to complete the quest given to them by their god Foebius -- to bring shadow to the universe of light.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                   Planet Cerebus Landscape

It is believed by many that Foelians do not posses a structured governmental hierarchy; nothing could be further from the truth. They are decidedly more then just chaotically evil creatures with no goals, randomly dishing out death and destruction. The Foelian government is simplistic in nature and design, and as is often the case with the more simplistic races, based upon survival of the fittest. To even begin to understand the Foelian government you must first understand three elements of Foelian society: their family, their religion and the way they view warfare.

To begin, the Foelian race is divided up into a multitude of hierarchical paternalistic families or as they are more commonly called -- clans. The clan is considered their greatest strength and weakness and can consist of upwards of 25,000 members per clan. They revere blood relations above all else except their god Foebius and will do anything to protect them. In fact, the clan gains power and prestige based upon its numbers and political maneuvering. It is not uncommon for one clan to go to war with another simply to reduce the number of a rival clan in order to maintain or advance its own or an ally's position in the ladder of power.

Prestige and power is derived from a number of different and complex factors to numerous to list. However, a small sampling includes the number of slaves owned, the ratio of males to females, the number of children, clan ranking and even hunting team status. Architecture is another area that can effect power and prestige and is an area in which they excel. Their architecture is as dark and foreboding as their landscape and often resembles a cross between fantasy nightmares and an evil sorcerer's keeps.

In order, the leaders of the three most powerful clans are given the designation ArchPriest, Blood Priest and High Priest. In effect the Foelian government is nothing more then a clan-based theocracy. ArchPriest, the most powerful of the three Priests is considered the favored of Foebius and therefore leads by divine right. However, in the case of the Foelians, leader is a fluid term. Each clan can and often does operate independently of each other with its own goal and/or agenda. Often this goal includes how to topple the current leadership and take the mantle of ArchPriest. As can happen, clan goals can come in conflict with another clan and as a result, end up fighting among themselves. It is not uncommon for the ArchPriest to manufacture a conflict in order to stabilize his position when necessary to keep from being lowered on the power ladder. Basically, Foelians are willing to do whatever it takes, no matter how loathsome or vile it may seem to accomplish their goal, with one exception. They tolerate no external interference in Foelian affairs. Unlike the human race, they do not sell each other out. Outside forces that try to influence one clan against another often find themselves as a Foelian delicacy. Additionally, regardless of goals, all clans will rally to the ArchPriest's banner when called upon to defend its borders or territory.

Next in the governmental hierarchy is the Upper and Lower Conclave. Located at each of the three colonies, the Upper conclave is made up entirely of warrior clerics they claim are empowered by their God Foebius. However, in reality, these warrior priests are made up of senior members from the next nine most powerful clans below the leading Priests. The Upper Conclave is responsible for approving research projects submitted by the Lower Conclave as well as setting the exploration and political goals for the year. This normally includes which systems they will explore and with whom they will battle.

Directly below the Upper Conclave in the chain of influence and power is the Lower Conclave. This conclave consists of five warrior clerics form the next most powerful clans below the nine member clerics of the Upper Conclave and they are responsible for reviewing research proposals and determining their viability. From here they send their approval list to the Upper Conclave who then determine its scheduling position for the year. Additionally, the Lower Conclave is responsible for all aspects of affairs of state, issues of slavery control, and ensuring the military is at peak readiness.

Born from their history, Foelian religion is mired in ceremonies and superstition and deeply intertwined with their government and warfare. Moon Clerics, a group of religious leaders, are responsible for all religious interpretations. Considered neutral, these Clerics are outside the normal realm of power and prestige, nevertheless they wield considerable influence and can be as powerful, if not more powerful then the Upper Conclave. Officially, the Moon clerics act as religious interpreters and advisors to the three priests however, their function goes far beyond this role.

First, it must be noted that Foelians view most races similar to how we humans view livestock -- as nothing more then cattle to be harvested and consumed which explains Foelian eating habits. Prior to any major conflict, Moon Clerics often consult the skull. Consulting the skull is the major religious ceremony performed by Moon Clerics and is horrific to watch. It involves sawing the upper portion of the skull from a victim exposing the brain, setting the brain on fire, then walking the zombiefied victim around before offering the first spoonful of cooked brains to the leader. Should the victim walk around the room without stumbling, it is considered a good omen and the endeavor favored by Foebius. However, should the victim falter the Moon Cleric and the endeavor is considered ill conceived and to have fallen out of favor with Foebius. After the brains are consumed, the rest of the victim is carved up and made into various dishes, such as kidney pie and blood soup. Human bone marrow is considered the ultimate Foelian delicacy.

From their culture and government to their religious ceremonies, warfare is the single most important facet to understanding the Foelian way of life. Warfare is their preoccupation; it dominates their thoughts and has shaped every aspect of their society. It can be considered the backbone of their culture. Their personality traits are rooted in the fundamentals of combat and make them ideally suited for warfare as they are expansionist, power-hungry, militaristic, devious and are considered by many, including themselves, to be sadistically evil. Additionally, they are greedy, practical, have no sense of honor, love to take chances and will do absolutely anything necessary to achieve their objectives, including sacrificing and enslaving members of their own race. Even their racial characteristics are geared toward battle and greatly enhance their abilities to uniquely wage it. When you come face to face with a Foelian male, commonly called a Demon, the first thing you notice is that they stand about seven feet tall and have no real shape. They are uncommonly agile, which makes them harder to hit in battle, but amusingly, also makes them very good dancers. Probably second only to the Lemites. They often appear as shifting, shadowy, two-legged creatures with uneven features, vestigial wings, piercing eyes of various colors and often include a barbed tail. On initial contact they seem nightmarish and intimidating and most creatures experience a period of queasiness as their eyes attempt to adjust to the Foelians shadowy, shifting nature. Foelians have this shadowy and shifting shape because they are always in a state of metamorphous. Once a Demon reaches a certain age, it metamorphoses into the female stage the Foelians call a succubus. Although the succubus retains most of the same physical characteristics of a Demon, she is decidedly more desirable by males from every species. Although she maintains many of the same characteristics of a Demon, she is considered more formidable then her Demon counterpart due to her increased intelligence and maturity. In this stage she also has an unnatural desire to breed and once breeding takes place and pregnancy occurs, the succubus undergoes yet another shift in nature metamorphosing into a creature right out of Greek mythology -- the Harpy. When protecting her unborn child she becomes the fiercest warrior the Foelians posses and even Demons avoid arguments with her.

This overview of Foelian culture, religion and warfare only scratches the surface of Foelian views and society. There are many more aspects of the race that are either too alien or just too complex to describe. In some respects, it is similar to the old-earth Chinese custom of losing face. To properly understand took years of careful study and first hand observations. Even then observers were only able to touch the surface. Historians could come close to putting it into words, but the idea of losing face, in reality, could only be properly understood by the Chinese. It is the same with the Foelians. Unfortunately, first hand observations in Foelian society usually end up with the observer served up as dinner because Foelians don't like uninvited guests. Even invited guests are not necessarily out of danger from sudden death syndrome if they fail to observe the many customs prevalent in Foelian society. It is these values and views that make them one of, if not the, most unique race in the universe.

Kind of gives you an understanding of where Blood Priest Whisper was coming from. And speaking of RIP scientists.... Harold Hedd's mom was a xeno-archeologist in the RIP's employ, albeit unwillingly. Rather interesting that there's were more of them among the pirates than there were in the IMPies.

In case you haven't read them, Ralph also did a great series about his version of the Great Migration to Haven. Italics are mine. Somehow the gaming guru wasn't appreciative of this attempt to bridge the two games. It's called the "Milo Coffee" series. They are all a good read (as is most of Ralph's stuff), and hopefully you can still find them on the restored List's website in the files section (explanation below). I'd have loved to have published them here, but an ego or two (including yours truly) got in the way....

But in the midst of all this BSE brouhaha (ha ha ha, as the Firesign repartee goes), life goes on:

Player News

David Sweet, aka Grand Admiral Steven Baldwin, will celebrate his 20'th anniversary of playing BSE next week. David started playing BSE in week 11/182, or the week of 25 March 1982.

 - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

It is with sadness that I wish to inform you that one of our number, Zan Erskine, passed away on Saturday. Zan was in the hospital for several weeks, and was released last week, while confined to a wheelchair. Apparently he was forced to return to the hospital on Saturday [May 11, 2002], where he passed away.

Zan is survived by his son, Alex Erskine.

Zan was an OMG player, a veteran, an avid deal-maker, and an all-around great guy. I hope that SMG does name a system or at least a major planet for him.

And it's true- Dave Sweet still does all his turns via snail-mail. Would you believe he didn't know that BSE had been canned by K-man & Kompany? Kind of like walking across a river then realizing the bridge was out. Whoopsie...

Oh, did I mention BSE went on hiatus again? Yep, Neil played Sea Scout leader. It was for a good reason and it's a good organization. His picture on the Sea Scout website  is a trip.

Even better - not long ago, seems SMG let the domain names lapse and both the BSE and THE sites were down for a bit. No email either, Ah well, out of sight, out of mind.

Here's the capper - Just as I was putting this to bed, came these little missives:

Announcements from Slow Motion Games

Effective 8/21/02, Kerry Harrison is no longer associated with Slow Motion Games, INC.

Without getting really personal, this is the aforementioned "gaming guru" that announced the initial demise of BSE, dissed Ralph's efforts to provide both a closure and a segue to the new game, among other things. But it gets even better:

 ----------------------------------------

Due to the previous owner deleting the lists out of Yahoo, I have had to re-create the two lists. Unfortunately, this means that you will all have to re-subscribe to the discussion lists to use them. You can send an email to the below addresses, and will be re-subscribed at that time.

For Beyond the Stellar Empire: bselist-subscribe@yahoogroups.com

For Tales of the Haven Expanse: Haven-Expanse-subscribe@yahoogroups.com

I'll just let the message speak for itself.

----------------------------

Some more stuff to wrap up. This is another chapter in the seemingly endless saga of:

Rollo McAllister: Agent of the STC

Part 6:

Synopsis: Newly-promoted Inspector Rollo McAllister and his longtime sidekick Swek are on what he hopes will be his last assignment before retirement. His job is to take an STC Negotiator and his supposed assistant (possibly an STC operative) to ROC Corona. After the evening meal, Rollo turns in before taking the next bridge watch.

It's been a long-standing tradition that the off-watch should get at least six hours of rest, a tradition enforced by the occasional starship act of stupidity, like flying into a sun. So I turned in early, hoping that in nine hours I might get those six.

It didn't happen.

The dream came again, this time more fuzzy and disjointed. The militia troops that died had faces of people I had met over the years, agents that I had worked with, women that I had loved. The screams were just as real, though.

I awoke to the sound of a buzzer - the Captain's summons. I whacked the respond button with the palm of my hand.

"Whatsup, Swek? Am I late?"

Sorry to wake you, Captain. We are two TUs from our jump into Dryad, but we have a problem. Please go to Negotiator Anstrom's cabin.

I peeled off the sweat-soaked sheet and fumbled into a jumpsuit and booties. After a quick face-wash, I went down the narrow passage leading to the aft cabins.

"Probably doesn't like his mattress," I muttered to myself as I tapped the hatch open and stepped in.

If Anstrom was uncomfortable, he sure didn't show it. He didn't complain, nor would he ever.

Tevin Rai, his red-headed assistant, was kneeling by the bed. She had on a set of what appeared to be black silk pajamas. I gave her a quick look, then went out to the galley area where I keep the casualty kit.

"You're not going to need that," Rai said as I placed the case on the floor.

"Maybe not," I replied, "but there'll be questions asked by the authorities if it isn't used." I took out the portable diagnostic unit and followed all the steps, just like you're taught at refresher training during overhaul.

"Cardiac arrest," I said as looked at the readings, "or so it says. He's been dead about two hours."

"What are you going to do with him?" Rai asked, still looking at the body, "are you going to bury him in space?

"No. Contrary to Tri-Dee flicks, that's only done during war or remote ops. We are going to bag him up and stow him away.

"Good thing these body bags are one-size-fits-all," I muttered as I removed one from a zippered side pouch, "There's a designated storage area below decks. where we can place him."

"Do you expect me to help you carry him?" Rai said.

"You don't like like the delicate type," I replied, "and you haven't fainted on me yet. Besides, everyone works on a starship when the need arises and the Captain orders it. One of the laws of space." She grumbled a bit, but helped me get the Negotiator's body into the bag. It might have been a one size fits all, but it was just barely in this case.

After sealing it, we half-carried, half-dragged it to the Repo's stern and lowered it down into a void. It was still pressurized, but cold enough for the purpose. Afterwards, I asked her to come into the lounge where I retrieved a data recorder.

"Semi-formal inquiry," I told her, "Part of the routine as well. First, why were you in his cabin?"

"I was summoned," she replied bluntly.

"He summoned you?"

"Not exactly. I carry a monitor unit. It's a device linked to a transmitter implanted in another person. It monitors vital signs, detects injuries and illnesses. All personal assistants and bodyguards for senior STC personnel have them. His went off, and I immediately went in to check."

"Explains the pajamas then," I mused. She glared at me but I continued. "What did you do when you got in there?"

"I tried to resuscitate him.  I'd just stopped when you strolled in and took charge."

"How long were you in the cabin before I arrived?"

"About ten minutes."

"I was up and about a bit quicker than ten minutes," I replied, "Did you hit the alarm first and then begin working on him, or the other way around?"

"I don't remember," Rai said coldly, "My first duty is- was- to the Chief Negotiator. You and your ship were secondary."

"Guess that wraps it up then," I yawned, "Thank you, Miz Rai." She stormed back to her cabin and, after a quick stop at the former Negotiator's cabin, I went to the bridge and slumped in a chair.

"Make an entry in the log," I said as I ran a hand over my face, "Negotiator Marcus Aurelius Anstrom died of apparent cardiac arrest in his cabin around 2100, Galactic Standard time. Date, ship's position, et cetera."

Already done, Rollo, Swek replied, I monitored the intercom in both the cabin and the lounge.

I tried going over the numbers for the next jump, but my mind wanted to go out and play. I tried to force it to do the required checks and gave up.

"We'll move the jump back another day," I said, "With our reason for racing to Corona cooling off in the hold, the urgency is kinda gone. I've got to get a message off to STC Central and with the way my brain's feeling right now, I won't be in any shape after that to make a jump. Why don't you get some sleep and I'll look over these numbers later. Besides, I can maneuver the Repo closer to the arrival square." Swek nodded, but didn't say anything. He climbed the ladder that lead to the access tube for his cabin and disappeared.

I punched in the maneuvering coordinates and leaned back in the seat, feeling the gentle shift in the Repo's gravity as it moved forward. Once I determined it was going in the right direction, I turned to the communication unit and pecked out a message using STC Standard Situation Report Format Two-A, which the system said was appropriate for the death of a senior STC functionary. The ironic part was that had the ship blown up, it would have only rated a Format Three.

With the message completed and sent, I on the autopilot and headed to the galley for some coffee. With less than four hours sleep, I was going to need all the stimulation I could get.

Our other passenger was in the lounge when I entered. She pointed to the dispenser

"I just made a fresh batch."

"Thanks,"  I replied as I drew a cup.

"Aren't you supposed to be on watch or something?"

"One of the privileges of being ship's captain. Besides, there's a bank of indicators right there on the bulkhead," I took a sip of my coffee, "I'm going to need your services when I get off watch. We have to inventory Anstrom's effects. Regulations."

"There's classified material in there," she protested, "Much of which, I sure, is beyond whatever clearance you may have."

"Well, then you can tell me that when I come across it," I said as I took a deep swallow of my coffee. She stomped back to her cabin and I leaned back in the bench-seat.

Hmmm, must be more tired than I thought, I said to myself as I felt my head begin to nod. I tried to reach the intercom to call Swek and tell him to take over for an hour while I took a nap but I never made it. Matter of fact, I was so far gone that I didn't even feel the coffee scald my leg as I slumped over the table.

Wrap up to come in the End of Year issue - I promise.

I suppose I should throw in some stuff here about the still developing Tales of the Haven Expanse (ToTHE) game. Fair play, and all that, y'know. Not much in the "color" area, but one affiliation I  have a bit of knowledge about is one called Cosmotech. They're the shipbuilders to the stars (literally). Solid group of players, some of them from the old EEM. Maybe next issue I'll have an article about them.

As for BSE, seems the Republic of Corona is still active:

Dateline: 25.6.202 This morning, in special session, the Senate of the Republic elected Adm Pahl Kantner, of the Clan o'the Rock, as new President of the Republic. Many political observers were quick to point out that the Senate's action was little more than a "de facto" rubber stamp, as Adm Kantner has been functioning in that capacity for some time now!

Other observers made more derogatory remarks, but these were quickly withdrawn, at the request of the government.   The President's Home Office has issued this statement by Adm Kantner... "I am proud to be of service to this Great Republic, and am quite honored by the confidence the Senate has shown in me. I look forward to leading the peoples of the Republic, and indeed all  the sentients of the Cluster, into at new era of peace and prosperity. Everyone, even the recently maligned ZCS & FET, are welcome to be part of this era, as long as they come in the name of  peace and fair trade! 'Nuff Said!"

The President's Office also issued a reminder that all IND ships traveling in the DC are required to register with the office of the President, or one of the ROC Governors. Also included was a warning that due to the continued activities of the RIP in the DC, that many ROC ships and colonies will continue to target all unregistered IND ships.

Say, wasn't this the same Clan O' the Rock that, when somebody gave the RIP a whole bunch of money to go and play in Republic of Corona space,  they started talking really loud and making excuses about "not what they signed up for" and shuffled towards the exit before anyone realized the crotches of their pants were wet? Just asking....

Ran into Shannon Rundquist while I was back home visiting in Arizona. Enjoyable time with Cascade's "dad". Would you believe we were the last ones in the restaurant when it closed - twice? Different days, of course but same restaurant.

I guess it's time to wrap this 'un up.  Harold and I will see you in the Fall.

The Bone would like to thank:

Mystic Pizza II, North Stonington, CT

Ralph Gibbs

Shannon Rundquist

Neil Bradley

The "RADMan"

Landmark Restaurant, Mesa Arizona