The following is a hyperstory -- as we called it -- taken from Issue #172 of my Commodore magazine called LOADSTAR, published around 1997. The story was inspired by my friend Jim Weiler -- who pretty much had all of my best ideas first -- and the artwork was done by the great Walt Harned, creator of more computer art for the Commodore than anyone on the planet.






by Fender Tucker and Walt Harned

Once upon a time Old Rasta, one of LOADSTAR's best anagrammers, had a hankering for some roast lad. He knew that his good pal, Lars Toad, was a superb roaster of young lads so he hunted up Lars at Mom's Cafe. Lars was drinking with Spud, a lard sot whose son Jim had just sold a rat and they were all feeling just fine.

"Hey!" Old Rasta said, "let's make a sod altar and have us an old-fashioned lad roast!"

"But where can we have this tasty lad roast?" Lars wondered.

"We'll just walk down the last road until we are given a sign," decided Old Rasta.

So off they went, arm in arm, hoping to find just the perfect place.

They hadn't gone far when a truck hauling a load of road salt almost ran them down. A ton or so of the salt spilled onto the road right before their eyes.

Then they spied a field of lard oats off the side of the road next to a large sod altar. Close by the altar sat a lord, eating a giant bowl of rot salad.

"Is this a sign, or what?" Lars gasped, and before long everyone was enjoying roast lad lightly seasoned with road salt and smothered with the finest lard oats.

With bellies full and souls content, Lars Toad and his anagramming friend Old Rasta headed back home down the last road. Everyone agreed it was the best lad roast ever, and vowed next time to invite all of the LOADSTARites. You'll be there, won't you?

The End

Don't you wish you had a magazine whose name could be anagrammed in at least twelve different ways?


All pictures by Walt Harned, except LOADSTAR, by Kevin Cloud.

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