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OBS! Denna textfil ingår i ett arkiv som är dedikerat att bevara svensk undergroundkultur, med målsättningen att vara så heltäckande som möjligt. Flashback kan inte garantera att innehållet är korrekt, användbart eller baserat på fakta, och är inte heller ansvariga för eventuella skador som uppstår från användning av informationen.
### ### ### ### ### #### ### ### ### #### ### ### ##### ### ### ### ### ### ### ### ### ### ##### ### ### ########## ### ### ########## ### ### ### ### Underground eXperts United Presents... ####### ## ## ####### # # ####### ####### ####### ## ## ## ## ##### ## ## # ## #### ## ## #### # # ####### ####### #### ## ## ## ## ##### ## ## # ## ## ## ####### ####### # # ####### ####### ####### [ Final Mistake ] [ By The GNN ] ____________________________________________________________________ ____________________________________________________________________ "FINAL MISTAKE" by THE GNN/DualCrew-Shining/uXu Make one mistake, and you are history. It must have been the work of a devilish race, people said. Who else would come up with the idea of sending a capsule across the universe just for the sake of killing our beloved prophet? All radars, scanners and monitors missed it as it came floating against our planet. It was simply too small to be detected. No one knew it existed until it emerged on the blue sky. A bird! someone said and looked up. No, it is a plane! someone else said. Man, this surely is some unidentified flying object! everybody agreed before the capsule crashed in front of them. Unfortunately, the disaster area where we now only could find a deep crater had been the place of a small stage. On that stage, a beloved prophet had talked to the cheering masses. That prophet was now stone cold, all thanks to that monster capsule from the other part of the universe. No wonder people were upset and demanded instant retaliation. The prophet had taught us peaceful behaviour, but now he was gone and we could make plans that would scare the soul out of any pacifist. Deep feelings, from the very inside of our civilized minds, emerged and turned us into a raging lynch mob. Technicians dropped their work and began to construct amazingly hellish death-machines that we would happily send to the race who dared to kill our beloved leader. It became a mission for an entire nation. No one was unaffected of what had happened, and everybody wanted to share the work. Everybody wanted to see blood. Red blood, green blood, blue blood - it did not matter, as long it was the color belonging to the real owners of the capsule. We worked like madmen. When we finally rolled the first rocket to the desert, ready to fire, another problem was revealed. The problem was rather obvious, but no one had thought about it. We did not know to whom we should mail our explosive message. After a while, we managed to solve that problem. We opened the capsule (by some reason we had not yet done that obvious move). Inside the capsule we found a golden thirty-three RPM record and a short message that, after a while of decrypting, told us that planet Earth looked forward to hear from us. Sure. They just had to wait. /////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////// Save the sorrows for a rainy day. I remember quiet evenings, trembling close to you: THE STASH +46-13-ETC \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ How can I persuade? --------------------------------------------------------------------------- uXu #223 Underground eXperts United 1994 uXu #223 Call PHALLICIDE -> +1-408-899-0235 ---------------------------------------------------------------------------