WUUT 18

Author: cgul(weeeeeeee)
Release date: Aug 2^nd, 2002

This is the WEEKLY UPDATE vol. 18
(WUUT = Weekly Update for Unreal Tournament. A review of the top stories from the past week in the world of UT that really matter to you!)

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- WE have so much fun and entertainment for you, that this WUUT is bursting at its seams. Hang in there, and maybe read it in parts so you don't hurt your eyes too much. Still, however, no signs of Puma and his Tech Section. Sorry all those out there who now have a secure machine but don't know what to do with it yet!

* Weeeeeeee is still welcoming its newest member: Stoned! Don't worry, we are nearly out of beer at this point! (Thanks neighbors for calling the police on our party! They actually brought some great pizza!)

* UT FASHION COMMUNITY is still asking for submissions to the UT Fashion contest. We only have a few entries as of yet. Enter your best outfit, pose, or pixel manipulation. Time IS running out. Post them under the fashion contest topic in this area. Right now the prize vault has one REAL item in it for the winners.

* GO FLY A KITE:
We have the exclusive introductory issue!

Stay tuned for further adventures!

* "THE SERVERS ARE DOWN", we all know how scary that statement is. It means that we can't play our favorite game on our favorite server. Well, we have looked into what REALLY happened during that last outing of the ReH servers. Yes, the official story was, uhhh..was there even an official story, gosh they have gotten really lazy about their cover-ups these days. Well one of our crack photographers caught one of the people that help run the servers, out of his cage, and having fun! http://homepage.mac.com/seigel/002247fh.jpg. Yes, CHILD labour!! We couldn't believe it either! Apparently the server was down because they were taking the seven children out for their weekly exercise, when a couple of them got away! It took them the entire weekend to round them up and put them back to work.

* REPRINT of the Letter to the Workers Unions!:
Dear Clalan Mr. Chairman of WUWUUT!
We, the management of WUUT hereby officially acknowledge your grievance, and that of the honourable Mr. Hypersipher and the WUFABSS (Workers Union for the Food Ammo 'n Baby Supplies Store).
We are prepared to sit down with your organizations and talk about reconciling the differences between our two positions. We have asked Rockhard to mediate the discussions. We will be holding the discussions at my house over pizza and beer once everyone can make it at the same time.
Until the aforementioned time, the lawyers of the WUUT ask you to keep working at your current rate of pay and keep smiling while you serve the customers.

Thank you for your understanding and concern.
(Small print: Summary executions may be used to encourage workers back to work. Onemeangirl and Voltron are fictional names of fictional characters who may or may not reflect two actual players in the UT universe. )

 

UPDATES From Last Week!

* NUDE SKIN REVEALED! There is a conspiracy being uncovered....read on as one of our reporters risks life and limb to get this interview.
Extremely shocking! As we stated in the previous WUUT, it is by now widely believed that the 'nude skin' enhances the skills. More specific, the rockets get harder and bigger. We have evidence! Our noob interviewer recently had a completely fabricated interview with RH (name blurred with capstec (tm)), and forced him into telling everything. What follows is a conspiracy that will completely shock the unreal world...

WUUT
Okay i would like to ask a question. Do you know if the 'nude skin' enhances the skills?

RH
No that is a cover up story. There have been some discussions between Blue Angel and Rockman. There was this discussion about public nudity, and Blue Angel changed his name to Cassanova. It had nothing to do with the situation. Listen to this. All these years, there is one evil that Rockman has never been able to eliminate. But the players kind of had to accept it like that, they had no choice. They didn't really care about the consequences anyway, how bad those might be, they were just players. Meanwhile no one really questions it anymore. There is a rumor that Cassanova found out about this secret and convinced him that he could help him to handle this evil.

WUUT
Aaah i see, public nudity? I knew that Cassanova had something to do with it! I knew it!

RH
Public nudity? You still don't get it do you? Dude, that is just the cover up story, Cassanova doesn't mean shit, they only need people to believe he does. The real evil is the Noobeater.

WUUT
The Noobeater is real? Ha ha, he is just a product of our chief editor's goofed brain! Ha Ha you are funny!

RH
Yea right, and i am Rockman. Your chief editor cgul thinks it funny to reanimate a long forgotten legend, from which no one still believes it is true, just to sell more copies. It created a serious situation.

WUUT
Okay but then i still don't get what the Noobeater has to do with the nude skin.

RH
Well, long time ago, Rockman was a real hero. That is when time on time again, he managed to save all the noobs who were falling off the Morpheus towers. You remember those times when Rockman came flying over Morpheus and through the walls? He was the greatest. With his speed and sublime air control, he knew how to catch them noobs before they splashed into a million pixels on Morpheus Avenue. Yea, until the Noobeater came back haunting around the towers. You see, the Noobeater is just waiting for noobs to fall down, having even more fun catching them mid-air. By the way, i have reasons to believe that hypersipher taught him that. Anyway, as a consequence, Rockman couldn't save all the noobs anymore cause he had to watch his own dumb self. Okay, so now for the nude skin part. If Rockman is to remain a hero, the players have to believe that the legend of the Noobeater is just made up by cgul to sell more copies, and is not really true. Therefor it would be a good thing if the creature remained calm, so the players don't ask questions, right? Well this is what happened. Clalan came up with the theory that the Noobeater might have a weak stomach, and some problems digesting those skins that players have. Occasionally he would have to throw them up again, and that explains the horrifying sound that sometimes emerges from down there. Now if the players would all use the nude skin, the Noobeater wouldn't have anything to throw up anymore, right?

 

WUUT
Oh i see.... brilliant! So let me guess... Rockman heard about that theory and realized it was a way to finally control the Noobeater. The plan was that everyone would be able to play with that skin only. So after Blue Angel made his deal with Rockman, he changed his name to Cassanova and went "lub lub", "ba da bing" and is about to come up with the idea of public nudity? I knew it!

RH
Dude i told you, it's a cover up story. Seems like a real good one or you must be damn stupid. Rockman heard about that theory and asked Clalan if there is a skin that would kill the Noobeater. He's good at that you know. What Clalan discovered was pretty amazing. Yea there is a skin like that, but it is illegal: the famous 'black' skin, also known as 'chai 4', which is nothing else than the texturemap of the crosshair. You see what i mean? The one skin that was publicly seen as the evil archetype, was actually functioning as the conscious focus of all players in the unreal world: the crosshair, for many a religious symbol. It would be like terrorizing the faith in the good and righteous possibilities offered by the unreal world, and starting some kind of a holy war with the means of evil, right? The parameters of the unreal world told him that it was allowed to use it as a focus to play, but not to fight evil with it. The skin had to be banned, it was identified by Rockman as the forbidden fruit.

WUUT Part III
Well it's a good thing that the black skin is declared illegal! Those damn cheaters! Okay i'm glad we sorted this out. Thanks for the interview.

 

CELEBRITY INTERVIEWS by Zaphod
~Because life's to short to interview sheep~

I am on holiday, and am unable to provide you with a interview to read. Instead, I have chosen to give you a chapter from the book series I love, and have chosen my nickname from. The hitchikers Guide to the Gallaxy...

The Restaurant at the end of the Universe

Chapter 7:

Marvin stood at the end of the bridge corridor. He was not in fact a particularly small robot. His silver body gleamed in the dusty sunbeams and shook with the continual barrage which the building was still undergoing.
He did, however, look pitifully small as the gigantic black tank rolled to a halt in front of him. The tank examined him with a probe. The probe withdrew.
Marvin stood there.
``Out of my way little robot,'' growled the tank.
``I'm afraid,'' said Marvin, ``that I've been left here to stop you.''
The probe extended again for a quick recheck. It withdrew again.
``You? Stop me?'' roared the tank. ``Go on!''
``No, really I have,'' said Marvin simply.
``What are you armed with?'' roared the tank in disbelief.
``Guess,'' said Marvin.
The tank's engines rumbled, its gears ground. Molecule-sized electronic relays deep in its micro-brain flipped backwards and forwards in consternation.
``Guess?'' said the tank.
Zaphod and the as yet unnamed man lurched up one corridor, down a second and along a third. The building continued to rock and judder and this puzzled Zaphod. If they wanted to blow the building up, why was it taking so long?
With difficulty they reached one of a number of totally anonymous unmarked doors and heaved at it. With a sudden jolt it opened and they fell inside.
All this way, thought Zaphod, all this trouble, all this not-lying-on-the-beach-having-a-wonderful-time, and for what? A single chair, a single desk and a single dirty ashtray in an undecorated office. The desk, apart from a bit of dancing dust and single, revolutionary form of paper clip, was empty.
``Where,'' said Zaphod, ``is Zarniwoop?'' feeling that his already tenuous grasp of the point of this whole exercise was beginning to slip.
``He's on an intergalactic cruise,'' said the man.
Zaphod tried to size the man up. Earnest type, he thought, not a barrel of laughs. He probably apportioned a fair whack of his time to running up and down heaving corridors, breaking down doors and making cryptic remarks in empty offices.
``Let me introduce myself,'' the man said, ``My name is Roosta, and this is my towel.''
``Hello Roosta,'' said Zaphod.
``Hello, towel,'' he added as Roosta held out to him a rather nasty old flowery towel. Not knowing what to do with it, he shook it by the corner.
Outside the window, one of the huge slug-like, gunmetal-green spaceships growled past.
``Yes, go on,'' said Marvin to the huge battle machine, ``you'll never guess.''
``Errmmm ...'' said the machine, vibrating with unaccustomed thought, ``laser beams?''
Marvin shook his head solemnly.
``No,'' muttered the machine in its deep guttural rumble, ``Too obvious. Anti-matter ray?'' it hazarded.
``Far too obvious,'' admonished Marvin.
``Yes,'' grumbled the machine, somewhat abashed, ``Er ... how about an electron ram?''
This was new to Marvin.
``What's that?'' he said.
``One of these,'' said the machine with enthusiasm.
>From its turret emerged a sharp prong which spat a single lethal blaze of light. Behind Marvin a wall roared and collapsed as a heap of dust. The dust billowed briefly, then settled.
``No,'' said Marvin, ``not one of those.''
``Good though, isn't it?''
``Very good,'' agreed Marvin.
``I know,'' said the Frogstar battle machine, after another moment's consideration, ``you must have one of those new Xanthic Re-Structron Destabilized Zenon Emitters!''
``Nice, aren't they?'' said Marvin.
``That's what you've got?'' said the machine in considerable awe.
``No,'' said Marvin.
``Oh,'' said the machine, disappointed, ``then it must be ...''
``You're thinking along the wrong lines,'' said Marvin, ``You're failing to take into account something fairly basic in the relationship between men and robots.''
``Er, I know,'' said the battle machine, ``is it ...'' it tailed off into thought again.
``Just think,'' urged Marvin, ``they left me, an ordinary, menial robot, to stop you, a gigantic heavy-duty battle machine, whilst they ran off to save themselves. What do you think they would leave me with?''
``Oooh, er,'' muttered the machine in alarm, ``something pretty damn devastating I should expect.''
``Expect!'' said Marvin, ``oh yes, expect. I'll tell you what they gave me to protect myself with shall I''
``Yes, alright,'' said the battle machine, bracing itself.
``Nothing,'' said Marvin.
There was a dangerous pause.
``Nothing?'' roared the battle machine.
``Nothing at all,'' intoned Marvin dismally, ``not an electronic sausage.''
The machine heaved about with fury.
``Well, doesn't that just take the biscuit!'' it roared, ``Nothing, eh? Just don't think, do they?''
``And me,'' said Marvin in a soft low voice, ``with this terrible pain in all the diodes down my left side.''
``Makes you spit, doesn't it?''
``Yes,'' agreed Marvin with feeling.
``Hell that makes me angry,'' bellowed the machine, ``think I'll smash that wall down!''
The electron ram stabbed out another searing blaze of light and took out the wall next to the machine.
``How do you think I feel?'' said Marvin bitterly.
``Just ran off and left you, did they?'' the machine thundered.
``Yes,'' said Marvin.
``I think I'll shoot down their bloody ceiling as well!'' raged the tank.
It took out the ceiling of the bridge.
``That's very impressive,'' murmured Marvin.
``You ain't seeing nothing yet,'' promised the machine, ``I can take out this floor too, no trouble!''
It took out the floor, too.
``Hell's bells!'' the machine roared as it plummeted fifteen storeys and smashed itself to bits on the ground below.
``What a depressingly stupid machine,'' said Marvin and trudged away.

THIS IS FOR REAL SECTION

This weekend, here in Canada, is a long weekend! It is the weekend that Canadians realize that in a month or two it is going to be FREAKING cold again so we better go out and do ALL of our summer activities at once, and with beer. Please be safe out there if you are partying. Remember, please don't drink and drive anything. Too many families get injured. Okay, enough downer, time for fraggin with my new adopted vid card. Okay I will do some work first. No one reads this part anyway...so I could write miles and miles of strung together words that barely make any sense and people wouldn't even notice. But I won't cause my fingers are already tired from pushing all these other letters together to make this WUUT. The characters you see on the screen are just a small representation of the actual letters which are each 1metre tall and 100kg each. It is a very tiring process to push them all together!

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(back issues available for a small fee, very small, insignificantly small, so small you would barely even notice.)

Submissions for the WEEKLY UPDATE maybe sent somewhere@paddlethis.com.
*** Disclaimer, most, if not all of this is a complete fabrication of a very strange mind, and now, possibly even more.
** Thanks this week to: Young Guru, S3mi, Zaphod, Clalan, Hypersipher, and some poor sap that is still lost in the himilayas.
* WUUT appreciates the space alotted to it by Rockemhard and the people associated with Rockemhard Inc.