........ One of the unfortunate side-effects of the Nebbian Mind Meld was the interference with the Vogon neural synaptic processes which led them to believe they could actually write beautiful and artistic poetry........

........... This brief exerpt of poetry was interecpted.......

" And they asked what is the meaning of the Universe?

The Galctic Snowfield acted nicely

Space dogs did urinate so

Rocks fell in love with cats

SupaNovas exploded occasionally

The Giant Sandworms of Dune farted.........

....... Yes I know it's difficult to tolerate much more........

This is verse one of a 6,000 verse poem by the Vogon poet Khalil Gibrainless.......

Feeling guilty for promulgating complete drivel, boring the pants off everyone with endless talk of failed gybes, vaporising planets, and trying to take over the known universe, the nebbian collective raised a white flag and stopped its drives.

With an almighty "Whoosh", a swirling rent opened in the space time continuum, and the entire species vanished into it without a trace.

As the eddy subsided, tendrils of glowing plasma were seen to read:
"We're off to grow organic potatoes and practice free love.
So long and thanks for all the tips."

......... The poisoning of the Sandy Point crew exposed the darker side of windsurfing.........

And while the Prime Leader of that former federation of states Australia, Mr Howhard was recorded as saying "All the water belongs to ALL Australians, even Sandy Bloody Point and we WILL nuke it if the majority of Australians think we should, and its my feeling that they do", to which there were numerous noises of accord and statements to the contrary all of which were broadcast through the medium of radio to one and all on a frequency that nobody listened to so that everyone would remain happily ignorant, comfortable in the knowledge that everyone else knew what was going on. One of the more memorable pieces of vapid political posturing that survived the Nebbian obliteration pulse was that of a Mr Beat the Meaty who said "I dont think we should nuke Sandy Point just because its cold. Sure that'll warm it up... oh all right, nuke it".

And so Glassy Point, as it is now known, became geologically frozen and a tad warmer. That is why today gps events can be held year round by all in the tropical comfort of the active neutron repair field that cancels the effects of gamma radiation.

... "Hang on a bloody minute", he said to himself. "Thats that bastard Rellie and I'm sure thats Hardies Thruster in the back!"

He instantly knew that the it was the two interstellar reprobates because the intergallactic red Lazer still had the yellow sticker and bald tyres on board.

"Bloody missus Grumples must be feeding those buggers coffee and cake" he thought, He was sure Hardie had told him he was off that hard stuff and had even trimmed down to a remarkable 88kgs. Obviously lies, they had both heard the Mrs Grumples was renowned throughout the universe for her vanilla slice and couldn't resist the temptation.....

......... Mrs Grumples vanilla slice was ........ scrumdillyumptious.......mmmmmmmmm you liucky bugger........

The remnat astral field of the great nebian mind meld had drifted to the constellation of cancer minor.
There the field had enveloped the giant Sillurian tree crabs, reorganising there neural pathways into first sentience, then mind numbing inteligence.
NOT A GOOD THING!!!!!!
Silurian Tree Crabs are inimical to all life, (especially windsurfers & kiters, something about being run over and eaten by then in their ancient past)

Sensing their ancient enemy on old Earth (somebody had somehow recreated it after the Vogons super space highway had actually gone nowhere and been junked).
Decrep was ill prepared for the giant claw as it smashed through Grumps's window.

..... Rellie who liked to feed on the excrement of sewer rats jealously gaurded his secret hideaway, rumours have it his sexual fantasies revolved around mind melding with a venezualan sewer rat whilst sipping a caffe latte on his favourite dunnie in the back of hardie's shed.......... Once Hardie had accidently walked in on Reli who was involved in a monosexual activity whilst inverting a pen which had a holograph of a sewer rat defecating, Hardie in total shock initially, then began to scheme how he could swindle that pen out of Rellie.....

.... Decrep eventually snapped out of his mesmerised stare at the claw of the Giant Silurian Tree Crab. "Jeepers (he is old after all)" he said. "As long as I keep running straight ahead, these buggers will never catch me" he deduced by using his encyclopedic knowledge and thus knowing that crabs could only run sideways.

"I wonder whether the ancient Rellie ever sold his Dirtsurfer", Decrep's brain screamed. Decrep was actually still the original Decrep, now several centuries old having discovered that early retirement by a magic wave break was the recipe for living forever (Editors note: Decrep you lucky bastard)

He headed in the direction of Swan River, and found Rellies hidden shed, there buried beneath centuries of rubble was the now abandonded Dirtsurfer.

He stealthily made his escape .....

The nebbian group of minds, trying to be busy with their lascivious wassales, felt a strange disturbance. Was it that aged naked hippy with the strange bunch of dreamcatchers around her neck that was promoting the weird ideas floating around their consciousness? Or was it the earnest 25 year old male, constantly quoting passages out of the Kor'an, backwards?

Suddenly an image of a piston, reciprocating in a cylinder crossed the collective's consciousness. Above this was a schematic representation of not valves, but a primitive system of sliding ports. Along with a tuned exhaust system, this was set up to let a small amount of unburnt fuel pass into the cylinder, and straight out the exhaust, thereby providing a small margin of safety for the dreaded "ping". With the addition of a small decompression valve, and some lubricant mixed into the fuel, the nebbian knew that they had the workings of a high power to weight ratio, easy to run power plant. What's more, they would never have to depend on the eccentric "Champion" power matrix, ever again.

Thoughts started churning along the collective's neural pathways. By going back to the "real world", would they bypass the promise they'd made to themselves, not to be such a donkey again? Or could they argue that the whole thing was a narcosis, brought on by extreme internet withdrawals after their favourite ISP suddenly IP banned them for no apparent reason, and which ban was equally inexplicably revoked today?

The sweat lodge beckoned...

Two hours later, things were wrong with the world. No longer was the collective the center of the universe. Strange images swirled around, and all the grain in the wooden stakes started to climb the walls. Individual grain cells appeared in their multiplicity, and with perfect synchronicity proclaimed "Non-vegetarian cake is on at Grumples place!" All the while a strange white noise poked and prodded at the very limit of consciousness.

Suddenly, a massive claw opened the flap of the entrance. It was the dreaded Giant Silurian tree crab! "Double-yew tee eff", an obviously antipodean human exclaimed.

Fortunately for the rest of the universe, the instant the Nebians rematerilised, their astral field left the giant silurian tree crabs, and reattached to the magnificant meld. The crabs inteligence quickly degenerated back to it's natural level (not even .5 on the IQ index).
For those with a love of crustaceans the unholy danger became a huge bonus! Sadly Hardie's escape with Rellie, left them unable to participate in the huge feasts enjoyed in their absence.
The restored Mrs Grumps even tried crab cookies, turned out to be a great success, Grumps himself just kept putting on more weight! Even the Nebians gave up their love of potatoes in favour of them.

.......and suicides increased. a bunch of young innocent females all killed themselves in a most gruesome manner in the knowledge that Hardies seed had been sown for the day. which made him smile to himself in a menacing way

....... Unusually for the middle-aged testosterone deprived Hardie, he was beggining to feel aroused again, 5 minutes after a ****.... something not experienced since he was 16....... he knew he needed to go to the spaceship Library, and look for any books with pictures of crabs.... He finally stumbled upon the Silariun Tree Crab Bikini contest of 7194,.......he began to breahe heavily, his heart thunping against his chest cavity, he began to feel that burning sensation and a feeling of expansion, he knew what he had to do..... he sneakily slipped the magazine it into spacesuit and casually started walking passed the Librarian, who at this point in time was the rostered Rellie ......... Rellie noticed the flushed look and glassy eyes, he knew hard's was up to something....... But What?

Luckily Hardie had previously deduced the complete scanning routine of the librarys decidedly low-tech anti-theft device.

Using nothing more than a walkman, and his legs, Hardie had figured out that the interference coming in from a badly-RF-shielded magnetic pickup, and a small battery powered amplifier corresponded directly with the security system's anti-theft pulse. Hardie also figured out that the aforementioned security system had a 2 second "dead spot" between the time that someone walked through (triggered by an optical sensor), and the time that it would next "arm" the system in preparation for another target to walk through.

All Hardie had to do was to follow someone closely enough, and he could walk through the anti-theft devices blind spot without the proximity alarm sounding.

"Bugger me" Hardie softly whispered to his inner child, "There's no-one else here except for that crab in the corner! How can I defeat the bloody sensor if I can't follow someone else out of the room?"