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(big letters) THE TOMBSTONE EPITAPH'S GUIDE TO THE FAR-OUT WEST

The Great Maze entry written by Willy Flyngdyngerry

THE GREAT MAZE
Gedday, all! I'm Willy Flyngdyngerry, a big-game hunter, memeber of the 
Explorer's Society, and sometimes a writer for this wonderful publication, 
the Tombstone Epitaph. Mr.Burtman told me to cover the Great Maze area. I see 
this as quite an honor, because everybody I talked to said the Maze was 
"Where it's at". I assume this is a good thing.

THE CITY OF LOST ANGELS
Ol' John Clum said that once upon a time, The City of Lost Angels was one of 
the creepiest places in the West. Well, while it certainly isn't the 
creepyist, it was enough for me to want to take the first train out of there! 
While the suburbs are pleasant, I must say the inner city is quite a bloody 
downer. I mean, what can you say about a place that uses black obsidian as a 
buliding material! 
I have to say that I preferred Movie Town. While it was a wee, shall we say, 
chintsy, it was a good place. I even saw some celebrities. Well, I saw their 
bodyguards.

SATANISTS?
I beleive I saw myself a whole passel of genuine devil-worshipers!
I was going about Movie Town, when my abnormally keen ears picked out the 
noise of chanting. My curiosity piqued, I went to investigate. 

I followed the chanting, which sounded more and more like Latin as I went 
along. From my time in school, I learned Latin, and this, my friends, was not 
Latin. So then I started hearing shouts, and things breaking. I climed onto a 
trash bin and peeked in a window. It looked like some orgy! But while some 
were cavorting around the corners, a couple were sitting in a circle 
chanting. In the middle of the circle, there was a pentagram! Now, I'm not an 
expert on the Occult, but even I know enough to realize that that's a demonic 
symbol. I'm not afriad to say that I got out of there, ASAP!

THE HELL'S ANGELS
One day, while riding around the Maze on my motorcylce (named Ol'Bess), I 
stopped at an interesting place to wet the ol' whistle, and maybe pick up a 
story or two. I went in, and it had many people wearing leather jackets with 
the number "13" on it. Interesting, I thought. I went to the bar and ordered 
myself a Guinness, and sidled up to a fellow next to me, wearing the number 
13, and with an eye patch. I figured he must've gone to 'Nam and gotten 
plugged in the eye. So I greeted him, and he sort of grunted at me. 
Undaunted, I went on to ask what the number 13 meant. He laughed and hollered 
to his fellows playing billiards, and called them over. They were all big, 
imposing fellows. As they walked, I noticed a couple had pistols tucked in 
their belts. I even saw one with a sub-machine gun on his back! Not much for 
subtlety, aye?

So anyway, the fellow I talked to made some comment about how usually the 
Fuzz isn't so direct. I wrinked by brow. "Excuse me?" I said. I barely got it 
out before a hulk of a man picked me right up by me elbows! Before I could 
negotiate, he threw me into a rack of liquors! Out of the corner of my eye, I 
saw men brandishing billiards cues and chains surrond me. I  brushed myself 
off, and then realized my favorite gun, my hunting rifle, was with my 
motorcycle! All I had was a puny .38! But, with typical Flyndyngerry abandon, 
I brandished my bowie knife, and leapt at the punk to the front o me! I 
knifed though his leather jacket into his chest. I then ran for the door, 
dodging bullets as I went. I hopped on Ol' Bess, and I saw the punks in hot 
pursuit! I took out one of my emergency sticks o' dynamite, lit it, threw it, 
and rode off into the sunset. I don't know how many of the bikers I killed.
When I got back to Shan Fan, I looked in through the newspapers in the local 
library. In the crime blotters of several editons of the Shan Fan Bee, I 
found references to a road gang known as the "Hell's Angels", who wore the 
number 13 on their jackets. Apparently, they've raised all sorts of Cain. 
Both the Texas Rangers and the US Marshals are gunning for them. They never 
found out who the leader is, or why he's so violent. 
I read of another incident where the Rangers set a trap for them. They got a 
rock band, the Rolling Stones (a personal favorite) to hire the Hell's Angels 
to perform crowd control at one of their shows. The Angels then beat a man to 
death with billiards cues! The Rangers then sprung out, guns blazing. They 
wanted to take them alive, but the Hell's Angels shot back. Two Rangers and 
three Angels died before the Angels ran off on there bikes. I hope someone 
apprehends those heinous outlaw's some day!

BRUCE LEE
I owe my life to a brave young man and hero of numerous movies, Bruce Lee.

One night, I was walking to my hotel in Shan Fan from a session at the public 
library. Suddenly, I was jumped by five young thugs, bearing knives and 
little goodwill. I shot one down, but the low-light made it hard to see. The 
thugs had little trouble landing knife strokes and blows on me, though. Then, 
one of my tormentors seems to fly away. I saw a figure darting all over the 
bloody place, beating the toughs left and right. He was unarmed to boot! I've 
seen kung-fu but none liked that. It seemed to combine aspects of all the 
various styles I've seen. When he was done, I saw it was a man I've seen in 
Hong-Kong action movies- Bruce Lee! He bandaged and healed my wounds, and 
told me about himself. He's apparently the head monk of the 37th Chamber! 
Knowing of the place (I got the seat of me pants whooped there), I wondered 
why he was so public. No other Shaolin monk was to seek fame. Bruce said he 
was working on a way to combine all the Martial Arts styles, Eastern and 
Western, into one, invulnerable technique he called "Jeet Kun Do". Before I 
could ask anymore questions, he had vanished into the shadows.

SHAN FAN
They say if you go to Shan Fan, you should wear flowers in your hair. Well, I 
had a flower in my hat (my dad took a chrisantumum from a Jap soldier he 
popped in the War), so I was alright. 

Once a city ruled by Chinesse triads, now the Far Left of your American 
political spectrum rules Shan Fan. As lazy as hippies and many other leftists 
seem, they certainly get to the polls come November. I've heard stories of 
some "hippies" as you call them, display arcane powers, so I went to to the 
famous Haight-Ashbury neighborhood to investigate.

I went to a likely looking park around there to see if anybody was displaying 
arcane powers. I figured the Fuzz would've snatched 'em already, but off I 
went.

Quite frankly, ladies and gents, I've never seen such blatant display of 
magic. Or private parts, for that matter. It was amazing. These unwashed, 
uneducated leftists could do all sorts of things- command animals, recieve 
stunningly accurate (if cryptic) visions of the future, and other such 
things. They welcomed me with open arms (I never did tell them I was a big 
game hunter... he he). I asked one of them, a shirtless young man throwing a 
frisbee, for an explanation. His name was "Dweizel". Here's a transcript-

Willy (that's me) - Excuse me, young man-

Dwiezel- Hey! I said I DON'T want to join the Army, man!

Willy- Oh, no, young man, I'm not a recruiter.

Dwiezel- Whoops. Hey, are you like, from England, or something?
 
W- I'm from Australia. 

D- Far Out! (Willy's note- that seems to be a catch phrase among these people)

W- Indeed. I see some of your freinds display magical ability.

D- Dude, I don't want trouble from the Fuzz! I felt really bad about sicing 
Ginsburg here on the last Fuzz poser who asked too many questions.

W- May I assure you sir, I am not a member of "The Fuzz" or of the Texas 
Constabulatory. 

D- Oh. Ok.

W- In fact, I'm a writer.

D- Cool! Are you, like, gonna write down what I say?

W- Indeed I am.

D- Cool. 

W- Now, I understand some of your fellows display magical ability. I am 
interested in finding out how they do it.

D- Dude, there's magic everywhere! Your mind just has to be in tune with it!

W- Is that so?

D- Yeah. Like,  you have to have a receptive mind.

W- I assume you have one of these minds?

D- Yeah, but a healthy dose of mind expanding dugs make the magic really 
possible.

W- Drugs, aye?

D- Yeah, only LSD. None of us who have shown abilty ever ODed.

W- That's good. Can you demonstrate this?

D- Well, take my dog, Ginsburg. We were always freinds, but he became an even 
better freind when I made him my animal buddy. 

W- Do you ever use these powers in combat?

D- Man, like, we don't dig war. Some Rangers and Fuzz tried to bring some of 
us in though.

W- What happened?

D- They woke up in a septic tank. We made 'em Daytrip. Dude, I gotta go get 
some food. See ya later!

W- Goodbye.


I found that highly enlightening. I'm still not sure if I get it, but those 
"Hippies" as they're called, seem like good people, if a bit hedonistic.

BLACK PANTHERS

It seems to me that other then the aborigines of your continent, it's 
defintely blacks who take the most flak, especially in the CSA. Some 
responded with peaceful protest, led by Dr.King, who was mysteriously slain 
in '63. Others were less patient. Led by Eldrige Cleaver, they armed 
themselves, spouted black-power rhetoric, and generally made white folks 
scared. 

I managed to get an interview with Mr.Cleaver. He was a good enough fellow, 
just frustrated with progress in America. They're one of the few that can 
oppose Governor Reagan's alliance with the John Birch Society. Read on...

GOVERNOR REAGAN

There are some very intersting things happening in Southern California 
(SoCal) too. The local Governor, a rabid anti-communist named Ronald Reagan, 
who was once a movie actor, has vowed to drive all the "leftist, anti-family 
agitators" in Shan Fan and Lynchburg. Only problem, these cities are in the 
North...

This is where the John Birch Society comes in. The Birchist promised to carry 
out Reagan's crusade in NorCal. They've violently clashed with gay rights 
activists in Bear's Claw, hippies in Shan Fan, Black Panthers in Lynchburg 
and Poetic Terrorists (more on them later) in Devil's Armpit. There are 
rumors that they ride on occasion with the Hell's Angels, and it seems the 
reprobate bikers are the only group the Birchers haven't clashed with! I'd be 
interested in investigating these alligations.

Many of the Birchist's I've met are good, if somewhat paranoid, folk. But too 
many are racist xenophobes. It seems around a year ago more and more racists 
have been joining the group. I plan on investigating this as well. For now, 
the John  Birch Society continues it's moral crusade.

DEVIL'S ARMPIT AND THE POETIC TERRORISTS

I visited this peculiarly named town on a whim. I couldn't beleive what I saw 
when I got there. 

The first sign that greeted me bore only the letter's "PAZ". Odd, I thought. 
I wandered furthur in. It was the strangest place. About half the people were 
stoned out of there wits. Others slung jello at people (including me!). Many 
were naked, indeed, some were engaging in things I can't mention in a family 
publication!! After seeing one particularly heinous act of hedonism, I felt 
obliged to drag the man in question off the poor boy. The man called himself 
"Hakim Bey", although he did not appear to be of Arabic desent. When I 
informed him I was taking him to the local Sheriff, he insisted there was no 
such officer in Devil's Armpit! I tried some other names (Marshall, Deputy, 
Constable), but he insisted there was no law in the town. I talked with him 
for a while, and he said the town was now a "PAZ"- A "Permanant Autonoumous 
Zone", that is autonomous of current societal norm. He said hima and a gang 
of his fellow, which he called "Poetic Terrorists" tried in a number of 
places to do this very thing, but only in Devil's Armpit has it worked. He 
told me a story about how the John Birch Society tried to burn the town down, 
but were stopped in a big firefight. Ever since then, the town has been a 
"PAZ". I didn't like it- hedonism isn't my bag...

Now, I say goodbye to you all. I reccomend the Maze to anyone with an 
adventurous streak and good guns. Otherwise, don't bother!!!