Um... to be honest, I can't remember. Or can't be bothered. *grin* Just read the bloody things! =)

I cannot remember who wrote which parts. As an when the authors claim their bits, I shall credit them appropriately.

################################ DASN1.txt #####################################

It was a dark and stormy night when Raz wrote:

> You're perfectly within your rights to voice Friday's
> opinion that .sigs should be kept to this length, but at the end of the day
> that's all it is.
> True, it started out life primarily as a list
> of the four n/g 'policies' and some ettiquitte guidelines, all but one of
> which are still there - but all of those present are based on the fact that
> there's a good reason not to do the thing described.

The rain lashed down with avengance. The ground underfoot squished. In 
the distance an owl hooted "Bugger its wet."

'eek' said Raz 'its been a long time since we last met on this 
battlefield.'
'Shut up and draw.' sneered Friday.
'OK' chiped Raz, and started on annother huge ascii .sig.
'Thats not what I meant, and you know it.'
'Oh you want to do the muscrat thing again don't you.'
'Try laser-guided GI assalt rifles.'
'Look can't we talk about this like two normal well rounded...um.. 
humanoids?' flootled Raz.
'The time for words is over, you know there is a good reason for keeping 
the maximum no. of .sig lines to 4.'
'Only cause you told me there was.'
'meeow!' meeowed Cat.
'Who invited him?' asked Raz indignately.
'Dunno he just follows me everywhere.' Friday started, 'And don't change 
the subject, There *is* a good reason for having 4 line .sigs.'
'OK, what is it then?' countered Raz bravely.
'Bandwidth,' interupted Cat 'It wastes Bandwidth.'
'No, thats not it.' reinterupted Friday.
'So?' waited Raz.
'Erm' Friday stuttered, playing for time while he brought his trusted 
riffle to bear.
'Crimble!' exclaimed Raz doning his bullet-proof primer 'I'm not putting 
it in the primer till I have a valid reason.'
'Well maybe we should have a new primmer editer then!'
'Not annother election please' pleaded Raz.
'No, thats not what I meant' finished Friday, squeezing the trigger 
.
'Eeeeeeeeeeooooooooooooow!!' screeched Cat mourning the loss of half his 
tail.
'whoops missed!' erred Friday 'Eightball you take over.'
'Yes Mummy.' answered his trusty sidearm splintering Raz's primmer to bits.

Somewhere in the distance a dog howled.
.......

################################# DASN2.txt ###################################


: Somewhere in the distance a dog howled.

It had just seen the sight of an iron clad maiden entering the battlefield
(try and imagine Roseanne Barr after an automobile accident).
"Friday, what the hell are you doing, put down that rifle!" shouted the 
metal bound portly temptress." 
She turns as she hears a gagging noise from behind her, 
"What's the matter with you, Raz?"
Raz splutters, "I've swollowed my Gobstopper, and *he's* broken my Primer"
The steel shrouded seductress pulls a rough slip of paper from within 
her ample cleavage, "Here you go, you can have my copy, go and blow your 
nose...NOT ON THE PRIMER!  Now, Friday, what's all this trouble about, and
have you got a license for that firearm?"
Friday drags his boots on the ground, "Raz says my four line .sig rule isn't
good enough to go into the Primer." 
A wistful look crosses Ang's face (for, 'tis her!) "Ahhhh.  I remember the 
days before the Primer's inception.  It was total chaos here then, of course,
I was just newbie...I always believed in it as a vehicle for truth and...
What's that smell?"
"Sorry," wibbled Raz.
"Anyway, as I was saying...the 4 line .sig thing is really a newsgroup rule
now Raz.  Why don't you put it in the Primer?"
Raz sniffles, " 'Cos, 'cos, *he* won't give me a good enough reason.
"It's obvious, isn't it?" says Ang
"NO," cry Friday and Raz in union.
"Oh, I always thought it was because .sigs over four lines where cumbersome
and ugly, merely representations of over inflated male egos, the Usenet 
equivalent of penis extensions."
Raz and Friday look bemused, Raz says, "Ang, is this just a blatant attempt 
to write yourself into an epic, seeing as you missed out on the Muskrat one."
"No, I really do believe that Friday doesn't like large .sigs because 
subconsciously he sees them a representations of the male.  He embraces
the feminine side of his personality..." Friday interrupts, an glint of 
anger has appeared in his eyes, "Are you saying I have small .sigs because
I have a small todger?" Ang looks frightened now, and starts backing away,
"NO, no, really it means that..." Friday shouts, "Are you calling me a 
*girl*!  Those Morris Minor parts won't save you now...what's that smell?
"Sorry."  says Ang quietly...

*BLAM*

################################ DASN3.txt ####################################

> "Sorry."  says Ang quietly...

Just then, the forgoten Cat on the ground rembers that he has a list of 10 
reasons why i'm against long .sigs, in his utility belt.  He takes it out while 
listening to the arguments above him.  Here it is, he thinks.   Suddenly The 
Cat leapt off the floor and anounced that he has his list.  He reads it out 
loud for everyone to here.
"Reasons why i hate > 4 line .sigs", anounces The Cat, "In No order."
	
"1)  Bandwidth
 2)  They increase news d/l time
 3)  People don't want to read .sigs, they want to read the posts
 4)  They look ugly
 5)  Long .sigs are usually blatent adverts
 6)  It's bad for the user as it increases his/her news u/l time
 7)  Because they increase news d/l time, they make News servers busyer for 
     longer
 8)  They're a pain when people quote them. [Why they have to quote .sigs is 
     beond me]
 9)  They are purly to show off
 10) Personal preferance.  *I* just don't like them."  Finishes The Cat.
"And there's more" says Cat
"Oh no, he's turning into Jimmy Kricket!" exclaims Raz
"People who agree with me are:
Friday, 
Demon Internet, 
And All you need to know about the Internet - by Dave Winder"  finishes The Cat 
at last. 
"TFHF" says Friday. 
"Now, who hasn't got a good reason?" says The Cat, 
"Wibble" exclaims Raz 
"You don't have a good reason not to" Says The Cat answering his own question. 
"However, i am bound by this promise never to comment on peoples .sigs ever 
again on this Ng."  Says The Cat looking down at his bonds marked 'A Promise'
"So i'll have no more say in this matter.  But one last thing.  This agrument 
will never be over until...." 
Suddenly there is a mild Earth Tremer and The Cat is momentaraly distracted....

###################################### DASN4.txt ##############################
-+-

"Hey, what was that sound?" Raz asked, cocking his head.

"Sounded like a Cat to me," stated Ang, who at that moment was beginning to
discover the drawbacks of wearing armour that left an open cleavage while
rain is pouring down.

Indeed, down in the squelchy ground, hidden under the blanket of the
doom-laden night was a small, bedraggled moggy.

"Awww, innit cute," Raz cooed, stretching a hand down.  Suddenly, the
vengeful feline arched its back and hissed at the fur-clad warrior, and Raz
hastily snatched his hand back before he lost a finger.

"I've never had much luck with cats," Raz confessed, eyeing the spitting
specimen warily.  "Did I ever tell you about -"

"Yes!" Friday and Ang broke in hurriedly, while Friday picked up the Cat
and stowed it carefully in the holster of one of his guns, where it began
purring contentedly.

At that moment, a second tremor rippled through the land, and those who
found themselves together this night glanced around.

"What's causing that..?" Raz mused, then paused.  "Erm, does anyone
actually know where we *are*?"

"That's a point," Friday said.  "One minute I've got me feet up by the
fire, quality-testing another, erm, yeah, well, and the next here I am with
my trusty square jaw and combat fatigues.  Have we been pulled together for
some Mighty Purpose?"

"Look," snapped Ang, "it's all right for you standing there in a bloody
army suit, but this rain's forming a pool in my navel.  Can we possibly get
under some shelter??"

"You need talk," Raz grumped as the four traipsed off, Cat hopping down to
the ground and leading the way to a copse of trees, "at least you picked
your own outfit."  The barbarian indicated his furry accoutrement.  "Rust
can be cleaned up, but there'll be some aches tomorrow, and no mistake."

The little group entered a little clearing covered by thick branches.  Cat
shook himself free of rain, and it appeared that Ang was attempting a
similar manoeuvre.

"Y'know," Friday began sagely, eyes barely gleaming, "you might be better
off getting out of those wet -"

"Stow it, GI Joe," Ang snapped, brandishing the flat of her hand.  Friday
grinned.

"So, what *are* we going to do?"

All eyes turned to The Cat.

"He spoke!" Raz marvelled.

"Yeah, well I only said I promised not to talk about .sigs anymore, didn't
I" Cat stated.  "Well?  I asked a question.  What are we going to do?"

For perhaps the first time, Raz closed his mouth since he had nothing
particularly cogent to say.  Friday and Ang shrugged at each other.  Cat
coughed up a furball then scampered up onto log to bring himself further
into the others' eyelines.

"Useless, the lot of you," Cat grumbled, then his eyes widened, "erm, 'cept
Fri, perhaps.  Anyway, it seems to me that this is sorta like a Quantum
Leap... we were brought here for a reason -"

"- And we won't be leaving until we've done what's needed," Ang concluded.
"He might be right, you know."

"Well, it seems like we first arrived in order to duke it out over .sigs,"
Raz offered, "but since that seems to have run its course without
casualties -"

"And we're still here," Friday put in.

"- then it appears we have something else to do," Raz said, nodding.

"Wonderful," Ang muttered, shaking her armour-clad limbs.

"It could be worse," began Fri, eying Ang up and down, "you -"

Ang glared at Friday stonily and raised an eyebrow.

"You, er - that is, *I* could go on talking and get hurt or something..."
He wandered off mumbling quietly.

"So," said Raz, "we find ourselves on a rainy night on an unknown world,
what might we be here for..?"

As if on cue, a third tremor, more violent than the last, rippled from the
darkness of the night.

"As good a starting point as any..." Ang mused.

"Hey!" It was Friday, calling from the edge of the clearing.  "Come and
look."

Cat, Ang and Raz ran to join the bio-warrior.  "What is it?" Cat asked.

"Wasn't that...  I mean, I thought I saw..." Friday frowned at the bushes
around the clearing.  "I think we may not be the only ones to find
ourselves here on this dark and stormy night...  Who knows who else we may
find before our work is done..?"

Ang eyed the green-helmetted rifle-toter in their midst.  "Melodramatic
sod," she said, turning her attention to the foliage.  "Now who's out
there?  Or does Shakespeare here have to flush you out with a poetry
recital..?"

################################# DASN5.txt ###################################


Following from Raz's last post...(on Friday, I think)

There was a rustling sound in the bushes,

"Please come out" said Raz, "We've been here for 5 days now, with no sign 
of another follow-up."
"Yup," agreed Ang, "and it's bloody freezing around here, my nipples are 
like bullets."
"I could always flush him out" mewed Cat.
"How would you do that?" asked Friday, 
"Well you know what Cats do in bushes." sniggered the part-tailed feline
"I'm coming out, I'm coming out!" shouted the mystery shrub dweller.

A figure rose, covered in mud and twigs, "Phooo.  You already smell like
something that cats do in bushes" said Raz,
The Cat chuckled, "How did you think I knew my way to the cover."

Meanwhile, Friday effects a manly pose, rifle in left hand, right hand 
scratching genitals, "Right, pilgrim, tell me, you a friend or a foe?" 
"It depends who's asking, really" said the dirt enshrined figure, "And it
depends if anyone has anything I can wipe this crap off with."  Ang delves into 
the now legendary cleavage and produces a wad off tissues.  The accompanying 
group look at her in amazement, Ang looks defensive, "Well, you try wearing a 
metal wonderbra with no sign of thermal lining."

"I've been wondering about that outfit actually" tootles Raz, "some perverse 
fantasy you'd like to share with us?"  Ang shrugs, "there's not much choice 
in M&S in the epic heroine range.  It's either leather push-up bra's and 
too much thigh, metal push-up bra's and too much thigh, or furry push-up
bra's and too much thigh.  At least with the metal you get a built in 
support corset.  And I'd be fooling myself pretending I could carry off a 
Princess Lea jump suit."

During this exchange, our mystery figure has been having a clean-up...

###################################### DASN6.txt ###############################

"Come out of the shadows." continued Raz. Another slight tremor shook the 
ground. 
"Yes we won't hurt you," promised Friday, gently bringing up the barrel 
of his gun.
Ang crept up to Friday "Normally when trying to win someone's trust, you 
place your weapons on the ground."
"Rubbish," grunted Friday "If you do that they get suspicious. I know 
I've tried that one bef...."
"Besides," interrupted Cat, "We don't know who is out there, it could be 
the vindaloo beast for all we know." Suddenly the ground lurched a foot to 
the right leaving the 4 heroes' bodies a foot to the left of their feet.
*flump* landed Raz, *boing* went the Cat landing on his feet, *bosh* was the 
noise the GI warrior made as his instant reflexes rolled him along the 
ground and onto his feet again, **CLASH,CRASH,CLANG** went Ang as she 
discovered yet another disadvantage of heavy armour. A lanky figure was 
jolted out of the bushes.
"Would you shut up about r d related beasts," said the newcomer wiping the 
muck from his face "Remember any thing you say here can become real."
"Who are you?, and how do you know so much about this place?" Friday was 
already standing over the mud-splattered person, trigger finger ready, then 
recognition dawned "Oh it's you."
"It's all my fault," wailed Lee (for twas him) "...I brought it here and 
let it loose on this world."
"Let what loose?....are you saying you are responsible for all this?..." 
Friday gestured around.
"Cause if you are can you stop these quakes?, That hurt" complained Ang, 
once again finding her feet.
"Thats not me, I created it but I don't know how to stop it."
"STOP WHAT?" shouted the 4 confused listeners.
"My .sig," explained Lee "It's after me."
"Oh no!" exclaimed the Cat "not..."
"YES!, bus .sig [tm]," finished Lee.
"Mind that bus!" teased Raz.
"Arrrhhh!," Lee leapt into the nearest cover, which unfortunately was a 
bush containing more thorns than would normally be considered comfortable.
"Only Joking." said Raz. Another tremor.
"Be quiet, r d quotes make it angry." Lee's voice was slightly muffled as 
he disengaged himself from the bush.
"Oh dear!" gasped Ang "we're in big trouble." The ground shook slightly 
again. 
"Why?" Friday asked, "We should be safe in here, buses don't normally 
drive through forests."
"Look at this," continued Ang, pointing to a piece of paper nailed to a 
tree. The four adventurers trundled towards the paper adorned tree. 
'Newsgroups: alt.tv.red-dwarf' it began, 'Subject: Where can I watch red 
dwarf in the NY area'
"Oh dear!" said Raz, terrible realisation dawning on his face.
"Yes," said Friday obliviously "Another yank's post cluttering up our 
newsgroup."
"FRIDAY!" yelled Ang, "We're IN the newsgroup."
"So?" retorted Friday.
"The .sigs are coming to get us!" explained Lee "Look over there."
As the wanderers turned to face the direction of Lee's hand they saw a 
grubby chef coming towards them.
The chef grinned, raised a shotgun and said "Our meats very fresh."
"Moo"
Friday raised his own gun in response, click, click, "Damn outa 
ammo....Run" He turned round and found that the others had gained a fair 
distance on him already.
"That was your fault Cat." called Lee from an increasing distance in 
front. Friday quickly gained on Ang as she found yet another reason 
why ordinary people don't go out in full plate armour.
"If you take that stuff off ughhh," started Friday as a mailed fist 
connected with his jaw. "Argggh!," Friday's yell of pain continued as he 
careered into a stationary Cat, "What have you stopped for?" The Cat had 
been strucken speechless and could only point meaningfully at an iron sign.

               ____________________
               |   Beware of the  |
               |      Dragon -    |
               |                  |
               | Trespassers will |
               | be flame-grilled |
               L_______/^\________/
                       |_|

"Oh smeg!" said Raz adding an earth-quake to their troubles.
.....

################################## DASN7.txt ###################################


The five epic adventurers where once again stationary in the pouring rain.
"Right," said Friday, "The situation is this.  We seem to be stuck in Lee's
imaginary view of what the newsgroup is like.  We are wearing an assortment
of impractical outfits.  There are a sucession of minor earthquakes going on 
around us at all times.  Behind us we have a deranged bus .sig.  In front of 
us, if we believe the sign, is a fire-breathing dragon.  Options anyone?"
"What about going to the left or right?" asked Cat.
"Already had a look" said Ang,"while Stormin' Norman was doing his monologue.
Chasms on either side, the last 'quake seems to have left us stranded."

"I'm not going back to face the bus!" shouted Lee.
"I'm not going to face up to Friday's dragon, no way," said Raz, "In a furry 
loincloth I've got about as much chance as a field mouse against a flame-
thrower."

At this point, the four men turned and looked at Ang speculatively.
"I reckon that metal would have the best chance," said Raz quietly.
"Oh come on, would you seriously send a woman to face a dragon alone?" asked 
Ang.  "I would," said Friday, "Especially if she has a mean right hook."
"I would too," agreed Cat.
Lee shrugged, "Tell you what, if you let someone else try on the armour..."
"We wouldn't look, honest" sniggered Friday.
"Wish me luck as you wave me goodbye" sang Ang as she started trotting 
toward the sign.  She soon disappeared in the undergrowth and bushes.

"Well, looks like we'll have to figure out another way to get out of here,"
said Raz.

############################## DASN8.txt ######################################

They heard an ear-splitting crash from the direction Ang had taken. Wood 
flew. Another crash, more wood flew, the sign disintegrated. Ang had 
discovered one of the advantages of being clad in metal armour when 
combined with momentum.
"Bugger" said Friday "she's destroying all the posts! There'll be 
nothing left of the newsgroup!"
"Cool it, man. She's only going for large ones with big sigs. Way to go 
Ang!" cried Cat, tears of joy on his face.
"Let's follow her" yelled Raz, who knew a good weapon when he saw one. 
He let Friday, Lee and the Cat go first because he also knew good 
cannon-fodder when he saw it.
The crashes got even louder as they closed in on Ang, the air thick with 
wood. Raz thought he saw a familiar yellow flash in the distance, 
something like a gout of flame, but he couldn't be sure so he said 
nothing. No point in worrying the others...
"We've got to stop her, she's heading toward the FAQ!" screamed Lee.
"No-one reads it anyway." said a bitter Friday.
"Yeah, you're right." agreed the others. The FAQ disappeared in a cloud 
of sawdust and a sonic boom. Ang's momentum barely wavered.
There was another not-quite-but-nearly deafening *BOOM* as a large 
accidental double-post became matchwood. "Have the tremors stopped?" 
shouted Lee over the din.
"Like we can tell!" yelled the Cat, dodging splinters of wood large 
enough to build a decent stockade. 
Raz though he saw another gout of flame. "Hey" said the Cat "was that a 
gout of flame?" Friday and Lee looked where the Cat was pointing. Raz 
already knew. "Sure was. Good work Cat." said Friday and gulped as he 
toyed with his empty weapon. "Not now Fri..." said the Cat.
"It's the dragon!" screeched Lee "It's heading for Ang!"
"It's dodging all the big posts, but burning the little ones to get to 
her!" said the Cat. "Oh, smeg." said Raz in a scouse accent while 
looking for a change of underwear. More tremors. "STOP QUOTING!" shouted 
Lee.
"Something you want to tell us, Raz?" said Friday, casually placing 
Raz's nose squarely in the sights of his enormous weapon.
"Don't bother, Fri, you're out of ammo." said the Cat.
"Bugger! You didn't have to remind him!" said Friday.
But Raz never noticed. "I've heard it as a myth, a fable, told around 
the dying embers-"
"STOP QUOTING!!" screamed Lee as everyone staggered from the tremor.
"Sorry. It seems like the legendary Law of Diminishing Disk Space, also 
known as the Law of Infinite Data, made real in the form of a 
self-repairing dragon simulant-"
"What is it?" Said the Cat, keeping his feet easily and smiling.
"STOP QUOTING!" yelled Lee, keeping his feet with some difficulty and 
not smiling. "I think it gets more powerful every time you quote!"
"How?" asked the Cat.
"I don't know, read the PIP!" retorted Lee.
"The more disk space you have, the more data you accumulate to fill it!"
interrupted Raz. "This could be bandwidth though, judging by the 
colour..."
While the brave defenders of free speech discussed the dragon's colour, 
a much dented Ang dodged a searing gout of ice-blue, sun-hot flame and 
spotted a thick post barely ten meters away.
"Look out! She's going for the Primer!" screamed Raz from the rear.
"So?" said Cat.
"It's Friday's Primer! It's been condensed! Even _her_ armour won't get 
through it!" 
"Oops..." said Friday.
There was a cessation of sound and everyone found out for sure what 
happens when an unstoppable object meets an immovable one....

#################################### DASN9.txt #################################

"My God, will you look at that!" cried Lee, "They've moulded together!"
Indeed, where once there was a hefty armour-plated dwarfer and condensed
version of the primer, there was now a single object, a mass of metal 
and wood.  The dragon, puzzled by the loss of it's prey stood and looked
at the frieze quizically.  Then it sat down staring at it, and shaking it's 
head.

"It's done her figure good anyway," said Raz, 
"You are sick, sick, sick" replied Cat.  Yet another tremor occured.
"Stop quoting." sobbed Lee.
"She'll do anything to get herself mentioned in a thread," said Friday
quietly, " But that is a bit extreme." 
"What's everyone looking at?" said a voice.  The group turned round,
behind them a figure bathed in light surveyed the scene.  Lee fell to his 
knees, "It's an angel, a message from above!"
"Get up you daft sod" replied the vision.  At this Friday peered closely,
"Angel my arse.  More like an Angela."

Around them fresh tremours erupted, the ground shook and the roar of the 
dragon could once again be heard.
"I haven't got much time," said Ang. "I'm existing as a paradox, and as 
such I'm drawing attention to you.  I know what's happening, and I know
how we can defeat the dragon and be saved." The figure began to soften 
and waver.  The roaring grew loader still.
"It would be handy if you shared the information with us." said Raz,
"Look at the posts still standing, unravel the threads..." Ang grew softer 
still.
"What are you on about you daft cow?" said Lee.
"Go back... go back..." whispered Ang as her figure faded from view.

"Well, that was about as helpful as the British Rail information point."
said Cat, "What the hell was she on about?"
"I suppose we had better have a look at what is still standing."  said
Friday.  At this the boys crept around the scene of the devastation,
trying hard not to grab the dragons attention.  After a while, they all met
up again.

"Well, what did everyone else see?" asked Raz uncomfortably (he was regretting
not packing a spare loincloth), "I just saw a load of posts about Charles'
pants."
"What!" said Lee, "You saw headers such as `What's in the pants?`, `Them 
there pants` and `Those pants again` as well?"
"I saw the BPIP and the PIP, they seemed to have escaped." said Cat.
"Well, I had a look at what the Dragon had burnt, it seemed it went for 
all *our* posts," said Friday. "What does this mean?  What does any of this 
mean?"  The ground shook and the dragon turned round to look for the source 
of the commotion.  "Stop quoting, you idiot!" shouted Lee,  
"Shut up you dank tuft of rectal pubic hair," shouted Friday back.  The 
dragon had got a fix, turned it's head and began to rise to it's feet.
"Run away!  Run away!" said Raz in his best Monty Python voice.  "Let's 
go back the way we came!"
 
___

Next part when I type it in,