It all started when I replied to a post of Greg's at alt.games.marathon and was delighted to receive this response back the next day:

heheh that's funny.. ok new scenario, we are both aliens, i was an alien that came out of a gorrilla in the zoo and you are an alien that came out of a tiger (note my generosity in letting you be a battle cat). The only problem is that our eggs came from different queens, so we don't like each other.

Ok, we both escape from the zoo without much difficulty and find ourselves in times square on new years even 1999. I'm on 41st street and broadway, standing a hulking 8 feet tall walking more or less upright, and you're on 46th street and broadway, low to the ground, stalking (sic) your prey. Two million people lie between us.

Needless to say, carnage ensues.

A docudrama about the turn of the millenium, ripe with high cost special effects and moral judgements on the state of mankind.

Greg

I responded to Greg's post in the only way I knew how, with childish abandon:

Greg

Great special effects in that alien scenario and a dazzling performance by you as an alien. Nice collection of pineal glands you gathered. You really have a flair for decapitations. Awesome snot-spit too, NO NO, don't wipe your chin! The mental image of you wading through hundreds of thousands of shrieking, broken victims for your ultimate showdown with me is, well, down right heartwarming. Unfortunately I am having major problems as an alien and couldn't wade through the carnage towards you just yet. The queen who laid the egg in the tiger was Freddie Mercury.

I start hanging out in coffee bars and bath houses but because of my jagged-toothed-tongue-thingy, nobody wants a blow job. Raging at the misfortune of being an alien trapped in an aliens body, I rampage uncontrollably, taking artwork off the walls, frowning, and saying insensitive things. To assuage my angst, I go on a binge of alcoholics and drug abusers, finally hitting bottom by eating Morton Downey Jr. While there on the bottom I start molesting face huggers (Hey little huggie, want a piece of trachea?) That night as I lay in the gutter in a pool of my own filth and vomit and snot-spit, I turned to Commander Flake laying beside me munching a cookie and said, "I can do better than this, I have carnage in me".

Determined to turn my life around I eat the entire staff of the Betty Ford Clinic, then recovered, I decapitate a best selling author. I hit the talk show circuit, growing in popularity until at the height of my new-found celebrity I eviscerate Oprah on national TV. No small task I tell you man. Buoyed by my fresh confidence in myself I head back to 46th Street and Broadway. Like a lion among lambs I slaughter the hapless minions in the jam packed street. Walking over the shattered corpses I spot you a block away, bellowing like a T-Rex, tossing human body parts 7 stories into the air. Our eyes lock, we freeze, then charge. Any humans in our path are flattened like wheat stalks in a field as our murderous rage propels us towards our mutual destiny. At 20 paces from you I stop, draw my .44 Magnum Mega Class A1 service pistol and put a spinner between your eyes.

Sorry it took so long to respond, my power supply blew up a few hours after I replied to your first post... hmmmmmm...

Gary Simmons
the Battle Cat

Much to my delight Greg again responds to the newsgroup and continues the story:

Which misses due to the fact that i don't have any eyes!! HA!

Then i get scared, run back to the safety of the thousand long ships against the wine-dark sea.. and ask mom what to do.. She says to climb the biggest tower and look for an answer.. so i climb up the empire state building.. and find on the top floor, the armaggedhon machine.. I accidentally trip over it's powercord and set off it's double redundant failsafe wouldn't-want-to-blow-up-the-world-with-the-power-cord-pulled-out mechanism, which when the power cord is not engaged causes the machine to start up (it's wind powered).. The big windmill starts to spin and the world starts to end.. the ball in times square is dropping.. 10.. 9 ... 8... 7.. .6...

anyway, Battle Cat, you should know that no alien movie can end with any aliens left alive..

... and the millenium is gonna be a ...

> Sorry it took so long to respond, my power supply blew up a few hours after I
> replied to your first post... hmmmmmm...

yeah that was me..

> Gary Simmons
> the Battle Cat

In my last installment to the ad hoc story, I end the New Year right, in true Battle Cat style:

Greg,

No eyes? Shoulda aimed at yer balls. I follow your shiny black ass back to the long ships and hide under a porthole as your mother gives you your instructions. Seeing you head for the Empire State Building I think to myself, "Ha, whatta dope", and head for the World Trade Center. At the base of one of the towers I wade through the tightly packed crowd of terrorists. I spit molecular acid and disembowel many before I give up and don snowshoes and walk over the top of the sea of bobbing turbans. Once at the base of the tower it is effortless to run up the vertical surface to the top. Nothing. I look over at the Empire State Building and see you flat on your face in front of the Armageddon machine all tangled up in power cords and hyphens. I bellow an angry, "D'OH!!", into the frozen starless night. "Of course", I think to myself, "His mom would be a dope too!!" Cursing my stupidity and summoning all my strength I leap from building top to building top and with one last mighty leap, I launch my lithe half ton, hate filled alien body towards the roof of the Empire State Building and the blinking, metal-ticking Armageddon machine. The distance is too far for me and I plummet towards the slowly descending ball in Times Square. I land on the ball, straddle it, and while waving a cowboy hat over my head I shout to the wind, "YEEEEEE HAAAAAAAA!!!", Slim Pickens style as in "Dr. Strangelove" 5... 4... 3...

Gary Simmons
the Battle Cat