Salient Notes

The bearded stranger stumbled along the muddy, rutted path. He winced as another lightning bolt flashed jaggedly across the sky, and he buttoned his coat against the rain that drove into his face from a purple sky. Dimly through the murk a cobwebbed castle swam into view. Turning his by now somewhat aquatic feet towards this vision of warmth and happiness, he soon found himself beating weakly on a cracked reinforced concrete door.

The door swung open on near soundles hinges to disclose, dimly illuminated by a guttering candle a ghoul of catatonic repulsiveness dressed in a faded wet suit. A luminous plastic name tag dangling from its wrist declared it to be Tori Quade.

"Who are you" it drawled in tones of the purest billabong. "My name is Geoff Adams and Tarn a stranger far from home."

"Won't you come in?" it simpered. With some trepidation our rather damp hero crossed the threshold. Ths first thing his battered sensory apparatus registered was Kathryne Fleming garbed in the costume of an emaciated nun, mercilessly shaving off Jessica Wilson's mustache with a blunt meat axe. Standing in the wings, Fergus Barrowman nonchalantly sharpened his teeth, and quietly stood on Mark Wilson's tail, which resulted in such a flood of ectoplasm that Grant Gillat was submerged up to the bolts in his neck.

Simon Wilson, unsuprisingly far from the action, plunged his teeth into Tim Rochford's neck, which proved to be constructed of such a revolting substance that even his battle-hardened inner parts proved unequal to the task. Disaster was averted by Lorraine Wilson's prompt action, swooping down on her persian rug, her echoing laughter splitting the silence.

Sadly, Andrew Beach got in [unclear: the] this sonic catastrophe, and despite [unclear: b] Peter's most earnest ministrations, [unclear: e] from a daze convinced he was [unclear: Steph] A'Court. Sensing this was a [unclear: termina] Virginia Adams did the only [unclear: humane] and converted him into Graeme [unclear: Rol] who was then slung upon a [unclear: wheelbar] Andrew Ross. Heading off full of [unclear: he] glory to find the bean stalk, they [unclear: we] ped and accosted by Nigel Parry. [unclear: De] conversation they were only [unclear: reminde] their somewhat bohemian [unclear: surround] by a passing Alan McArthur, in the [unclear: p] image of a priest. "Cosmic, eh" [unclear: mut] Rire Scotney. "Oh, I don't know" [unclear: n] ered Jonathan Scott, who still [unclear: thinks] writes better Salient Notes than I [unclear: do.]

A great shadow, at this [unclear: moment,] pass over them. Of porpoise like [unclear: pro] tions, it soon blotted out the [unclear: entire] son. "Oh God!! Can this be the [unclear: end] murmered Helen Aikman. "Of [unclear: cours] said Andrew McCallum, "It's [unclear: Carolin] Massof." Coincidentally, it was [unclear: also] end.

Salient was, in the main, edited [unclear: by] Beach, and published on a rather [unclear: del] basis by VUWSA. It was printed in [unclear: a] manner curiously appropriate by [unclear: War] Newspapers Ltd, Drews Ave, [unclear: Wangan]