Hello again. As you I've finally done it. I've updated the surveys, right before Thanksgiving to natch. Hopefully I'll churn out another for the holidays, but Krissy be a lazy and procrastinating creature, yes she be. So enjoy this one, and leave me alone...


1) If you ever had to (or wanted to) rob a bank, how would you pull it off? (Include weaponry and getaway)

Ganon@aol.com:
I'd hire some thugs to rob it for me and let them handle the thinking. When they were done, I'd shoot them with...oh, I dunno, a gun. Or something.

FTFOI@aol.com:
Bank...bank...lesse...Definately going with a team, at night, with small arms (read: maybe 3 9mm's apiece) tons of specialized equipment in knapsacks and an old, yet dependable van for getaway. The other details would have to be worked out the week of the heist to maintain secrecy and loyalty and whatnot.

pamelag@idt.net:
To rob a bank, I would asemble a team of combat experst (ex-Marines and such) and arm them with a variety of weapons, such as M-16A2 assault rifles with grenade launchers and combat shotguns. After several days of careful planning and training, we would mount the assault, under the cover of snipers stationed on nearby rooftops.. After the robbery, we would extract in a plain minivan (with firing ports for rear and side gunners) and procede to return to base. Either that or I'd just threaten to use a thermonuclear explosive or 20.

Omar Jenkins:
I'd raid the non-lethal weaponry arsenal of the US government and steal a sonic disabling device which sends a shock wave in a 30 degrees arc and causes those caught in the arc to have instant diahrea. Thus making everyone imobilized as they either fight for the bathroom or slip and fall on their own excrement. At which point I walk through and take the money while firing liquid rubber which solidifies on contact at anyone who moves toward me.

Joseph Weiss:
What's this continual "if"? I'm shocked that you've never heard of the famous tomato juice robberies, commited by none other than myself at the age of three. (I yelled a lot and scattered my excrement on the table until I not only got 500 dollars in pennies, but had my way with three of the bank clerks and a potted fennel). More recently I made out with 3 million dollars in gold plated doubloons by giving the entire staff of Chase Manhattan three day old sushi. If I ever plan to do such things again, however, I'd prefer to discreetly wait in line and upon reaching the desk, whip out my engorged genitalia, a small frankfurter, and a Kalishnokov, forcing all passersby to play "find the penis" on pain of death. Once this gets old I'll just beat them over the head with the hot dog and take the money. A getaway would be achieved by blending into the crowd of average NY pedestrians. This is easily accomplished by wrapping tampons on your forehead and shouting "Hail the green banana!". The police will doubtlessly be confused as to whether this is in fact you, and not, say, a journalist or one of those SoHo artist types, who could be expressing something about technology's effect on the inner child.

FeyPiper@aol.com:
Simple. I'd sail the frigate *Revenge* up to the teller's booth, give them a couple good broadsides, force them to strike their flag, kill the bank president in a swashbuckling duel through the halls, eventually disarming him and forcing him to beg for mercy before receiving three feet of Spanish steel through his vitals, and slaughter the tellers to a hireling, because, as is well known, the dread pirate Roberts takes no prisoners.

D. Sucher:
Well, the only way I would want to rob a bank would be if it contained something particularly interesting. Money, eh, I can get that in better ways. Gold isn't even fun to look at. I'm no vampire, so blood banks don't attract my attention. I know of two clubs called The Bank, but I'm not interested in clubs. Unless someone already tried to rob the bank, and there is a superhero now locked in the vault. Superheroes are valuable commodities. I'd want to rob the bank of that stash. The first thing to worry about is why the superhero couldn't escape on his own. Which superhero is it, anyway? To attract my attention, it would have to be, we'll say, Cyberella, or Batman, or, er no, no, any of the superheroes I'm thinking of would kick my ass. This hypothetical situation is getting painful. For my own safety my hypothetical Batman is hypothetically unconscious for some hypothetical reason or other. Since I'm a philosophy major now (Discworld readers: notice that I am answering all these questions straight from my bathtub), I need no weaponry, merely my keen and peerless mind (stop giggling, you in the corner!). I will call attention to myself by jumping upon a table in the middle of the bank and reciting Fibonacci numbers. Once everyone is looking at me, I will ask them the knights and knaves question. Then I will go up to the fellow with the vault key, and promise to tell him the answer if he gives me the key. He will give me the key, and I will tell him the answer then apply the Vulcan groin kick. As the rest puzzle over it, I shall go quickly and quietly to the vault where Batman is locked in. I will unlock it, drag out his comatose body, and relock the vault, returning the key to the pained bank employee. At this point I will be a volunteer EMT, so right before this operation I would have called for an ambulance to that bank. My partner would be waiting outside in the ambulance for me to bring our patient to be treated. I would bring Batman directly into the back of the ambulance, and use his weaponry to convince my partner/driver to take us to my home instead. My very own bona fide superhero.

TwstedHero@aol.com:
Hmm. First I'd pluck one of the innumerable homeless from the streets of whatever city I happen to be in (No one's going to miss him), then I'd take him aside. After rendering him immobile, and assuming present funds are generous (not to mention available technology), I'd melt his brain with more crack and acid than you could possibly imagine. After I'd stripped this poor slug of his humanity, I'd subject him to mental conditioning that would render what was left of his mind receptive to my commands. Then I'd outfit what remained with a flak jacket, a large sack, an assault rifle (hollow tipped ammo), and a com set that would allow me to guide this living corpse to his target. Before sending it out, I'd graft a device onto his off shooting arm that would deliver a constant drip of adrenalin directly into the bloodstream for the next three hours or so. This would have the effect of boosting his reflexes and physical strength, as well as erasing completely what sensation of pain he had left. The rest is pretty self explanitory. There'd be difficulty getting him to speak, but after he blasted most of the patrons as well as guards, I think swinging the gun back and forth between the teller and safe would get the desired effect. Once it was opened, I'd have my little zombie load his sack to bursting with money (Or gold, if they got it. He can handle the extra weight.), kill the remaining patrons (What's the use of hostages?), and blow his way through the police barricade outside. He'd doubtless take some hits, but I don't really care. Once the police were taken care of, I'd swing by in my ride and pick up the sack, as well as dropping of the communications device from my end (So it can't be traced to me of course), and ride off, leaving the poor wretch to die from his injuries. Switch cars a few times, cross the state line, and hop a cruise to the Bahamas. Damn I'm smooth.


2) If you had a country of your own, what would it be called, and what would be the motto?

pamelag@idt.net:
My country is named Arkaaria. Our motto: nox videt omnis. semper solus es.

Omar Jenkins:
Elbonia of course. "Is Cobolt some kind of Cabbage?"

Joseph Weiss:
Rand Mcnally. It's motto: "We brake for cheese".

FeyPiper@aol.com:
My country? The United States of Scandinavia. Our motto? We Can Wipe The Floor With France. Or maybe Blonder Than You, or last but not least Semper Ubi Sub Ubi.

TwstedHero@aol.com:
Technocratia. A city of blackened steel and mechanical nightmares, floating across the surface of the Earth, an ominous presence. Inhabited by myself, and those of kindred spirits, as well as our myriad creations. The advance of technology for its own sake, regardless of the consequences or ethical implications. A metal paradise sculpted from my darkest dreams. Our motto: "When in doubt, whip it out!" I've always stood behind that one:)

Ganon@aol.com:
My country's name would be "35481151511874812057420312". Yes, that number has a significance. The motto would be, "If you can't memorize the name, don't even THINK of trying to become a citizen. Even if you can memorize the name, don't even THINK of trying to become a citizen."

D. Sucher:
Galeanthropia. Wow. Sounds sort of like a disease, but it is the land of my origin, my alpha and my omega. Does it make anyone else think of strangulation? Galeanthropia, O Galeanthropia, my claws extend for thee. I don't think countries have mottos. I remember studying for the American History final and regents pimp-daddy method, and that didn't mention mottos anywhere. Our motto is: "Osculate me, you fool!" Wait, no, that's how one talks dirty in public. It's: "Snarl first, purr later." Or maybe: "When in trouble or in doubt, run in circles, scream and shout." No, that was Heinlein. Ah, forget it.

FTFOI@aol.com:
The country's name is a quasi-impronouncable 16-digit number and our motto would be "It's divisible by Pi!"


3) What was your favorite merchandising tie-in cartoon? (read: a cartoon created solely to sell a toy line)

Ganon@aol.com:
Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, even if for no other reason than Krang in that doofy-looking human suit.

D. Sucher:
I'm supposed to say that little Dilbert cartoon. I know that. But I really like the cute bouncing goblin thing that advertises Magic: The Gathering during the net version of You Don't Know Jack.

FeyPiper@aol.com:
I firmly believe that A Bug's Life was created solely for the merchandise tie-ins, the greatest effort of which was the blizzard of various ant and beetle toys, in various shapes and sizes from stick-in-your-toddler's-throat to crush-your-toddler-beneath-its-mass.

Joseph Weiss:
I vaguely remember one for Teddy Ruxpin. All I can dredge up is something with an airship that didn't work at first because they put the hot air balloon underneath the ship instead of on top and attached by wires. After they figured it out they went over a forest or something - this is beginning to be weird. At first I was going to say I didn't remember anything but the existence of this cartoon. Then the airship came, and a bit more. Doubtlessly this is a repressed memory tied in to one of those deepseated childhood phobias. Maybe if I pressed on with this sort of thing I could figure out why lipstick and condiments make me nauseaous. Then again, maybe some things aren't meant to be uncovered. I could end up having some sort of weird Pavlovian response - like reciting commercials or wetting myself.