Fiddling with the Automorph, Alicia Arrington wondered what it would be like to be a purely mythical being. Remembering her Norse mythology (and Wagner operas), she typed in the command, "Make me into a Valkyrie." In an instant, her entire being began to fade. Soon she could see right through herself (not that her beau Edgar couldn't do that in a less literal sense). She found herself wearing a long white glimmering dress as she suddenly stood before an office door carring the logo: "Oden, God and chief executive officer." Inside she found a medium-size gent in a Saville Row pinstriped suit, shiny Oxford shoes, short slicked-down hair; who was sitting behind an opulent executive's desk. He also was smoking one of those thin black cigars popular in Europe. Putting down a telephone receiver, he invited Alicia in. "So glad you accepted the job. It's so hard finding qualified applicants for this type of job these days," Oden said. "What are my duties as a Valkyrie?" Alicia asked. "You are an ethereal creature who flies through the sky who captures the souls of slain warriors and spirits them to Valhalla," Oden noted. "Where's this Valhalla?" Alicia asked. "A swell resort just outside Oslo," Oden replied. Opening a file cabinet, he handed Alicia her first assignment. In the blink of an eye, Alicia was hovering over a football stadium in Minnesota. The cold wind was whistling up her dress, causing her to discover that Valkyries didn't wear flannel underwear, or any underwear, for that matter. As she strained to view the ground, she discovered a lively football game between the Minnesota Vikings and the New York Giants. "Now which warrior's soul will I snatch and take to Valhalla?" Alicia puzzled. She decided to snatch the soul of...
Sun Jan 16 19:02:08 2000