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Conference kaosws::canada

Title:True North Strong & Free
Notice:Introduction in Note 535, For Sale/Wanted in 524
Moderator:POLAR::RICHARDSON
Created:Fri Jun 19 1987
Last Modified:Fri Jun 06 1997
Last Successful Update:Fri Jun 06 1997
Number of topics:1040
Total number of notes:13668

337.0. "Debunking Korff Barbunk" by POLAR::RICHARDSON (He who laughs best) Thu Jul 26 1990 17:51

    	This note is dedicated to the discussion surrounding the
    legendary/mythical Korff Barbunk. Is he really a Canadian of Hungarian
    descent? Is he really harassed by vicious roving sausage gangs? Did
    he really die? Is he still alive? Does he exist? Has he done any
    whirly-twirlies? Did he have a run in with a Brabant in mint condition
    or was it a UFO?

    	I think it's time we got to the bottom of this!


    Glenn
T.RTitleUserPersonal
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337.1I swear this is the truth!ICS::FINUCANEA future Golden GirlFri Jul 27 1990 20:2922
    NO!!!!  He *is* alive!!!
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    
    I saw him working at that Burger King in Minnesota.  Elvis got him the
    job.
    
    
    
    Cath
337.2Would I lie to you dah dah dahPOLAR::LACAILLEEight legs, 2 fangs and an attitudeFri Jul 27 1990 21:5765

	I don't know Cath, I was just talking to Elvis yesterday
	and he mentioned the same thing...

	He was telling me of his new hobby, biology. It seems
	that late one night, he was putting in a few extra hours at
	the old grill when an idea of great magnitude overcame him
	His black cravat exploded from around his neck showering
	the brown tile walls with perspiration and pieces of the
	previous evenings gorging of hamburger helper.
	
	It was clearly obvious to him now, the secret to immortality!
	If only he could capture this great idea before the drug
	induced haze once again flowed into his tortured cerebrum.

	Paused in thought, his greasy right hand bedazzled with
	cheap  craker jak jewelery reaches up from the grill to
	slick back an already too greasy lock of shoe-polish black
	hair.

	"HAMBURGERS! Thats it", he thinks "I can form the molecular
	gene structures from hamburger patties."

	Knowing that the hardy Minnesota rats will eat these hamburgers,
	he shuffles quickly to the large walk-in freezer. Wheezing from
	the exertion he pulls open the door. Ignoring the snapping sound
	of his now defunct truss he waddles into the freezer to collect
	200 frozen paddies.

	Back at the grill he begins to cook. First he lays a row of 9
	across the back row, then another row of 9 and another. Soon
	flames are shooting up black sooty smoke in large clouds
	threating to clog an already overworked ventalation system.

	When the grill is full, he reached in behind a counter to pull
	out a jar hidden there. It is unlabeled, but he knows it to 
	contain the famous MacRushton's 'Special Sauce'. Smearing cautious
	dabs of this vile mixture on each paddy he smiles in satisfaction.
	"This will definitly keep the rats away from my work."

	Soon a counter is covered with an unctuous heap of specially
	prepared hamburger patties.

	Jockying his bulk around the counter he begins to clear a large
	area in the eatery. His large arms, powerful from 15 years of
	on the skillet, ripple as they throw tables and chairs into a pile.
	
	Returning to the hamburgers he begins the finale of his labours.
	grabbing a box of straws in one hand and a bucket of patties
	in the other. He begins to form the molecular model, joining
	hamburger to hamburger with God-like precision and sureness.

	As the last hamburger is put into place, and the morning sun,
	through the Minnesota smog, begins streaming into the
	front windows. Elvis looks around exausted to find a rather
	odd looking chap staring, in obvious wonderment, at the kings
	creation.

	"Never in my life have I seen anything so oleaginous and 
	pulchritudinous" He stated with a slight european accent,
	"A scale model of a late model Brabant. Thank you sir
	my life is now complete. BTW My name is Korph..."

	pUDacious