Up. Down. Up. Down. The twisted game of

Up. Down. Up. Down. The twisted game of gravity. The cruel litany of man after man at the gallows. Up. Down.

Then Coach Brockbuller screamed, "Goddamn it Zigowitz! I said UP DOWN!" That's it, take a lap!" Zigowitz hated the coach, he always made him do stuff.

What was it with this coach, expecting one armed Ziggy to do a perfect pull-up? Of course he was going to swing somewhat like a monkey, but that's no reason to be a

jackass about one-armed Ziggy's monkey swinging. May as well call four-legged Pete an octopus, or Cindy, who has no arms or legs, a sack of flour. While you're at it

call Oscar a trashy sock puppet, or Barney a foam rubber shoe, or Spock a pointy eared pokemon. But you won't get around the fact that Ziggy was a leper Messiah. He & Jherek Manate

e enjoyed their time puttering around the vacant ruins of Old Mars on Jherek's canal barge. They talked of loves lost and forgotten, then Ziggy suggested they find a beer garden. E

lgar was agreeable and they found a cosy place in the pit of a crater, where they ordered bitters from a Jherekan wench in native costume which emphasised her prominent facial disk

ir minds exponentially by drinking Jherekan fermented freak juice until they ran out of J-quetzals - logical thinking with a 2000% inflation rate. They were dumped on the Plateau

with the rest of the experiments, their corpses cursed to rot in an unmarked grave. The End.