All-new Stig Story

NOTE:

There is not a single galaxy in all of Stig without its own share of habitable planets, and among these planets, there is not a single one that does not have its own share of conspiracy theorists. In fact, The Gods of The Universe, Everything Misunderstood and Small Pieces of Brown Lint, in their lightyearly sensus publication, "The Complete Summation of the Lot of You (abridged)" it was explained that conspiracy theorists account for just about 42% of the civilized population in Stig ( if you add the per cent of the uncivilized population of conspiracy nuts, the figures are said to be so staggering as to leave you questioning just how true they really are, or indeed, how true anything is ). So it can safely be said that just about half of the population in Stig is deeply suspicious of the other half, and those who are not suspicious of anyone were usually the first to go when their respective civilizations destroyed themselves.

That being said, the most popular subject for conspiracy theory in the universe is the origin of Stig itself. For instance, the Pinktruffle Labians of Vons Menus Five have a group called the Igknites who believe that Chris the Otter and Bobo the Demented Child of Albatron Seven were once breathable negative space clusters that experimented with flammable gasses and child-proof lighters, causing an explosion that created almost everything. Booly Baboffabaff died with a great cult following him to his grave, which of course killed them all, but then, a decade later, a different-but-more-well-mannered cult formed and worshipped the idea that Booly and his cult worshipped time travelers, who at that time, no one could prove existed. Booly was said to have been incidental in creating Stig by accident when coming from another universe from another time to see just how far his new electric-powered space ship could get without needing to be refueled.

The following story is, to the best of all Stig reporters' and our editor's knowledge, completely false, but as it is the least known and yet most interesting conspiracy theory in the universe, we are publishing it purely for posterity. Besides, if we get it wrong, who gives a shit?

THE ORIGIN OF ALMOST EVERYTHING:

THE BROADCASTERS THAT ALSO WROTE

"Well, this is nice, isn't it? More melbatoast, darling?"

Deep in the upper-west quadrant of the continuing loop of mapped space that we understand to be Stig there is a planet called Ikea, named for the native race of aliens who once lived there but couldn't defend their galaxy from an ensuing series of meteor showers because they could not assemble the deflector shield they'd ordered in time, despite the very easy-to-read instructions that came in the packaging. Survivors later remarked that they should have purchased a standard issue Silly Edward's Meteorshower Deflector Shield Which Kinda Looks Like A Giant Umbrella But Really Isn't Sweartagods. The native extraterrestrials left, but the planet was pretty much okay, despite being grotesquely blue and yellow.

"Female, I can't think about tasteless crackers at a time like this! In fact, this is the most inappropriate time to think of such delicacies! But yes, I would, and do be a dear and put some brie on it."

On Ikea, the blue parts of the planet enjoyed a life of luxury, engaging in many of the more exotic temptations of other planets in the universe ( which explains why they eat brie on melbatoast which is from Earth: Sol... so that should cover the skepticism for anyone who questions why these aliens on a planet millions of light years away from Earth: Sol engage in such things from that planet and their pop culture references... THAT'S why! ) while the yellow parts of the planet were very often destitute and crummy with a lot of the people engaging in acts of dementia ( things like owning cats or living inside buildings ). But everybody loved each other, and for some reason, the shitty people left the rich people alone and vice versa.

"I'm sorry, Reldikki. I should have just put the Earth: Sol brie on the Earth: Sol melbatoast cracker and handed it to you. You're quite right. You shouldn't have to worry about such things. You've got so much thinking to do already," said Alnizha Voorervartz, soon to be Alnizha Tahntaunton, wife of Reldikkiton Tahntaunton and the woman who was going to be cleaning up his vomit in the next three seconds.

There's other interesting things about Ikea, but we don't want to spoil it. You really owe it to yourself, take the kids, hire a sitter, bring them all with you.. just don't come to the yellow parts. The amusement parks in the yellow parts of Ikea are the most depressing and grotesque... there's a reason why the water slides are yellow and it isn't sanitary. But anyway, this story isn't about Ikea, but it takes place on it, and I think it's time we let this dialogue get the story started.

"Eureka!!" Reldikki screamed as he turned his head 90 degrees to his left, perfecting lining himself in his girlfriend's eyeline so the spray of vomit that lasted a full minute could hit her right in the face, thus sending a very clear message from him to her which she interpreted as 'I love you'.

Reldikkiton Tahntaunton was highly revered but very stupid, simple-minded and a poor speller who could barely construct a sentence, which is why it was very difficult for him to keep his job as an author. It took him days to think of things to write about, ways to write them and the number of words to have in the book and the strain on his brain usually resulted in him vomiting for several weeks. Luckily for Alnizha, he was only trying to think of a very small idea and as such, only vomited in her face for sixty seconds.

For some reason, it was the publishing of his somewhat iffy-selling, yet highly praised book AS RICH AS I'VE EVER WILL BE ( with a foreward by a day-old bowel movement ) that gave him his career after he graduated somewhere in his class from the house of SAAFS which stood for Standing And Always Fighting Strong, but which the poorer, less-educated but undeniably smarter students secretly maintained stood for Stupid As All Fucking Shit.

His latest book, a series of articles called WHAT DO OTHER PEOPLE DO, THEN? which chronicles people who aren't insipidly wealthy, took him many places. He was in one of the yellower parts of the planet in a town called 'Oh Who Gives A Fuck It's Late' where he met up with fourth year science majors that took him on a journey, bringing them completely out of Stig, just long enough to give him the origin of it's existence and several small poops in his underwear. These scientists interested him because they used small words around him and didn't make him feel stupid for being stupid.

After allowing Alnizha to clean his vomit off her face he told her that he had to go and meet them. It was the middle of the day and the scientists were usually just getting up about this time, so it was odd that they would call him now, if ever. Yuine Gravelpuss, their project manager, wouldn't call Reldikki unless it was something important. Tahntaunton knew very little, but he knew at least that.

Meanwhile, Alnizha knew none of this. She was starting to think there was someone else and this kind of sudden desire to go out had been happening a lot lately. Alnizha hated the idea of Reldikki vomiting on other women, but she didn't want to appear suspicious. [ We don't know what happens next here... but it's a conspiracy theory, so we're guessing she died suddenly. Just think about it, man! - Ed. ]

The students, Vozd, Yuine and Steve, lived in a rather nice loft, considering it was in a yellow area. They all had funding for their work, which involved pinpointing the origins of signals and sounds using their own self designed long-range scanners, which were in constant need of watering and bloodletting. They had called Reldikki to their home / lab after discovering something interesting: a transmission that contained voices and music wrapped in a deliberately bad sound quality.

"Come in," Yuine said as she removed Reldikki's urine-soaked jacket. "It's really coming down out there," Reldikki remarked, "I'll have to buy you guys a place in the Bluelands, it's much nicer there."

"But you won't."

"No."

There could have been an awkward look here, but Yuine didn't wait for it to happen. Instead, she got right to business. "We found something."

"Why would you share this with anyone?"

Reldikki had just spent the last six minutes wondering why Vozd and Steve had wasted his time with this shit. They played him a recording of two teenage boys hosting a program that consisted of them talking, doing skits, asking for but not receiving calls, and playing music. Whether or not it was intended to be entertaining was not clear to Reldikki and apparently not a concern of the scientists.

"You don't understand," Vozd said.

"I usually don't," Reldikki interrupted, "but that doesn't matter. I hate what you've just played me, and I'll gladly pay you a paltry sum to never play it again."

"Done," Vozd said. Reldikki didn't expect that. He gave Vozd the floor.

"Look, we didn't call you over here to listen to six minutes of mediocrity, Dik. Here's the thing. Ask us where in Stig this audio file comes from. Go on, ask us."

"Okay. Where?" Reldikki was really liking that Vozd took control and also that he'd decided to call him Dik. He liked Dik.

"It didn't," said Vozd, taking notice of the fact that he finally had Reldikki's attention. He widened his eyes for dramatic effect. "We're still working out the data, but as far as we can tell, it's from a planet, in a galaxy in a universe, just like Ikea is a planet in a galaxy in a universe... but it's just not this one. Understand?"

Steve decided to chime in. No one cared, though. So Yuine started talking over him.

"Steve, shut up. Basically Voz is saying that we can't find its source signature anywhere in our databanks, and we have all of Stig covered. So that means, according to these two morons, that there's ANOTHER universe, which I think is bogus, but at best, it'd be a great chapter in your little book."

Reldikki liked the fact that his girlfriend -- who would have been his wife had she not mysteriously died on his way over to the scientist's place -- would not nag him if he fucked Yuine. This is why he let her call his book 'little' and in general get away with her flippant attitude. And Steve was just annoying, Reldikki thought. But gods damn it, there he is, talking again.

"Steve, you need to drink some shut up juice," Vozd said. He'd had enough of Steve too and decided now was as good a time as any to admonish him. "Your theories are the worst kind of popular tripe, your methods are sloppy and your conclusions are highly questionable. You are a poor scientist, Dr. Steve. And you have no place in this department, or in this university." [ Okay, we're calling 'bullshit' on that one. That was from 'Ghostbusters'. - Ed. ]

"Actually," Yuine said, "there is some truth to what Steve was saying, minus all the stuff about infant strangulation... seriously, Steve, get help. See somebody."

"Seriously, nigger," Reldikki added.

"But.." Yuine said, secretly wondering what a 'nigger' was, "the fact that you guys WERE able to produce coordinates IS interesting, and that's thanks to Steve's design of the long-range scanner and Vozd's engineering skills.... E N G I N E E R I N G... skills...", she said as Reldikki stood taking notes for his stupid book. She wanted him to get the technical words right. She's kind of a bitch.

"Maybe there's something wrong with the processors," Vozd said. "We should probably do some system diagnostics, maybe even reboot the whole thing and try to re-trace it from the source --"

Reldikkiton almost exploded with vomit. This was too much for him to take and the scientists were arguing like he wasn't there. When he was around, they usually spoke very simply, but this was clearly a subject they'd been disagreeing about for some time. They couldn't keep it simple anymore.

"Dude, seriously, what the fuck do you eat?" Vozd asked as he, Steve and Yuine cleaned the sixty-eight gallons of Tahntaunton's vomit up. Fortunately, none of it got on the equipment. Unfortunately, their cat was killed.

"I'll buy you a new Fluffy," Reldikki apologised. "It's just.... you were using all those words... you know? And then the spelling... I thought I could catch up if I wrote it down..."

"Right," Yuine said, "that was our fault. But I think Voz is wrong anyway, Dik. I think the machines and equipment are working fine... despite all the puke in here."

"So, if I understand correctly," Reldikkiton Tahntaunton said, "you're saying that there might be another universe... another not Stig one... a not Stig universe?" He felt it at the back of the throat again. Yuine eased his hurt.

"Yes. And these two think that universe is where the audio clip comes from."

"And if we could go there... could we hurt the ones who made it?" Reldikki wanted to blame someone for his upset tummy and had given up on blaming his own ineptitude when he was six and realized it didn't feel good right away.

"Uh.... yeah, I guess so," Vozd said, not understanding the question.

"Then..." Reldikki stated rather epicly, "I wanna go to it!"

THE EQUIVALENT OF FOUR EARTH: SOL MONTHS LATER

Reldikki was feeling very satisfied with himself. He and the scientists, who were now calling themselves The New Dimension Seekers ( complete with embroidered jackets ) had received more financial backing as well as a generous grant from the Tahntaunton Estate, donated by Reldikki's parents, publicly because they wanted to be the first corporation to say they had products from other dimensions, but unofficially because they hated their stupid son and if he died during this ridiculous mission it would give them a chance to appear publicly sad for a bit ( which really does a lot for the family's PR ) as well as receive a huge settlement from several insurance companies.

It was a very large sum ( their donation, not the settlement ) but every Ikean dollar was spent on Reldikki's dream: to go to this other universe and punch the people who made the audio clip. Yuine, Steve and Vozd had successfully constructed a vomit proof machine that could, without watering or bloodletting, beam two bodies to any coordinates that were typed in to its computer, regardless of if those latitude and longitudes lines were on any map. For some reason, they called this vomit-proof machine a 'jiffy'.

----------------------

"Oh dude, take my notebook with you to class."

"Why?"

"I wrote a new Stig story. It's called 'King's Kruünfaulst'. Bobo's in it."

Trevor Thompson and Shawn McBee, or 'renob and SpoogE' as they preferred, were teenaged students on Earth: Sol, despite never having lived any of that planet's documented experiences. They knew all about brie, melbatoast and Six Cents Calhoun as well as the many stories that influenced the lifestyles of the inhabitants of Cat ( which is of course short for 'Catholicpeoplelikethepopenevercomeherebecauseourladdersfrightenthemville' ), but if you were to ask them, they'd tell you they wrote it, along with every other story that Stigbook reporters have experienced. To Shawn and Trevor, writing about 'Stig', a considered funny name for a person and even sillier for a universe, was just an exercise in creativity. The only other outlet for their creativity at their young age was a regular broadcast.

At the time of their education, Earth: Sol had only graduated so far in its technological advancements. Not everyone could get to do a show that a whole planet could see ( or in their case, hear ) unless they were really driven, incredibly wealthy or had large genitalia. The trouble was, Trevor and Shawn were very driven and only succeeded, they thought, in being heard within a ten mile radius. They never considered their signal would reach to the farthest depths of their galaxy, fall into a black hole and end up in a universe that they thought they'd invented.

This was known to be, in their universe as well as Stig, the collective unconscious. As theoretical as collective unconscious is, it is the only scientific explanation for humanoid youngsters in an alternate universe writing stories about galaxies, planets and individuals that exist in this universe. However, if Trevor and Shawn had considered they could be heard beyond their own planet, they would have surely done a better job with their broadcast, the namely named 'Midnite Madness with renob and SpoogE'.

"I thought you killed Bobo," Trevor said, remembering the ending to the 'origin story' of our own demented child of Albatron Seven.

"Yeah, he's still dead, but I'm gonna write another story later that explains things, but in this one, he gets knocked out cold by a scone," Shawn recalled.

"What is it with you and scones?"

"What is it with you and fart jokes?"

"They're funny."

"I rest my case."

----------------------

Reldikki and Yuine were the pilots in their jiffy, dubbed the 'S.S. Leapverse', as Vozd and Steve stayed in their new labs to monitor ( as best they could ) their journey into this unknown universe. A universe that had produced such an unpleasant broadcast. A universe that might not really exist. A universe with no name, but which Reldikki would call 'Ted' when and if he discovered it. Apparently, the name Tahntauntoniverse is really stupid, he thought, despite loving it.

"Alright, is everybody ready?" Vozd asked, putting his headphones on.

"Reldikkiton, sweetie, you might want to cover your ears, I'm about to get technical with Voz here," Yuine warned, wanting to go over a few last-minute details with the other scientists.

"I thought you said this thing was vomit-proof," Dik said, suddenly worried.

"It is, but who wants to wade through vomit? It's just not as fun as it used to be. I'd just assume avoid it at this time. Okay?" Reldikki didn't mind. He wanted to save his vomit for the voices on the recording, if he ever got to meet them. He covered his ears and thought about punching children.

"Okay, he's out, what is it Yui?" Vozd asked.

Yuine then asked Vozd a series of last-minute checks that he and Steve had checked and re-checked a few times already, subsequently irritating Vozd with every ensuing question. Finally, he got upset, saying, "look, we did all of it! And Steve stopped drawing pictures of tadpole abortions long enough to check all of this equipment out on the amphibious life that live in the water parks out here... we sent several yellow frogs to this other universe and they all survived, so you're ready to go, stop stalling and tell Dik to stop sucker punching imaginary eight year olds."

"Dumb child," Reldikki muttered.

The launch went off without a hitch, partially because such a primitive device would be out of place on equipment designed to hop universes, but mostly because things on Ikea often played out in such a way that the events could later be turned into a stupid expression that meant nothing. So it is not at all surprising, and definitely not funny, that while Reldikki and Yuine made the jump from Stig to a different universe altogether ( at present, still unnamed, even by Reldikki ) they most certainly did so, in a jiffy.

"I have to go to the bathroom," Reldikki inappropriately stated as Yuine and he and their jiffy and every other conceivable thing was stretched the length of twelve universes and the width of one sixteenth of an atom. In general, he liked to annoy Yuine because she didn't seem to react to his pranks, like the time he put her bike on the roof or the other time when he put his finger in her. The only thing she thought when this happened was, "this is clearly a violation of our agreement as citizens of this planet to love each other and leave each other alone; then again, maybe this is love. I'll have to run some tests later."

Reldikkiton wondered, while the fabric of space, time and his feet all began to unravel, if Yuine was feeling vulnerable now as then. If so, he might be able to shit himself and have her clean it up. At best, he figured, if they didn't die in the next few seconds, at least he'd have thought of a good idea, that of shitting himself, without vomiting. And only a slight headache.

Yuine, however, was not listening to him. Or anything, for that matter. Like Reldikki and everything else, she was unraveling. This seemed most upsetting and for six seconds Yuine began wondering why she'd devoted so much time to science and education in the first place, wondering if maybe she should have just been a show jumper's assistant. Least you get out in the open air. In fact, she realized, she hadn't needed air from the moment they'd launched... or at least didn't want any. It wasn't attainable anyway... it was unravelling along with everything else in a brilliant array of colors that were there almost as quickly as they were gone.

And then they were gone.

----------------------

"I made a poop in the potty," said Shawn, holding a fresh butterscotch sausage in his hand. "This is it and here the fuck it is!"

He then began gleefully smearing it all over his face while Trevor looked at him with hatred. Instead of suggesting he stop, Trevor set Shawn on fire and stamped him out with a rake made of freshly sharpened dental instruments. Then he woke up.

He had been asleep on the futon in his parents' guest room and looking around, he saw Shawn with his back to him typing at the computer.

"I had a dream about you," Trevor said.

"The one where I throw my shit at you?"

"No," Trevor recalled, "this time you just smeared it all over your face and I killed you with some kind of weird device."

"A shit stirrer, perhaps?" Shawn stopped typing and was reading something back silently.

Trevor stood up and stretched. "I'm gonna make some tea. You want some?"

"Fine, I'll be in there in a sec," Shawn said as Trevor began for the kitchen. He stopped him. "I made a bunch of corrections and fixed a number of your typos. Should I print the whole book... what we have so far, or just this story?"

"All of it," Trevor said, poised in the doorway, "we haven't printed a new copy in a while, certainly none with the new changes, and plus, I lost mine".

"It's in your locker, dude."

"I never go to my locker."

"Go to it tomorrow."

"I can't."

"Why?"

"Tomorrow's Saturday."

For half of a half-second Shawn forgot how many days there were in a week on Earth: Sol, Universe 2. The instant his memory returned, he stated realizationally: "Fuck."

"Indeed," Trevor said.

"Monday, then."

"Monday's Martin Luther King Day."

For a sixteenth of a hectasecond ( which is six and a half seconds, a unit of time used on Albraton Seven ) Shawn forgot that Martin Luther King was assassinated so that one Monday a year, students could get a day off of school. Especially white children.

"Double fuck," Shawn lamented.

"I'll take the physical challenge, Marc," Trevor said. "Fine, go to your locker on Tuesday. We have school on Tuesday, right?"

"Yes, but I can't go to my locker on Tuesday. Or any day for that matter."

"Oh for the fuckin'.... why?"

"I lost the combo. And the lock's on it".

"And you're an idiot."

"And I'm an idiot. Yes."

Shawn sighed. It wasn't a big deal to print another copy of the book, and in fact he needed one too, because he had also lost his. But who likes a back-peddler?

"So... two, then.. you lazy bitch?"

"Yeah, I am pretty lazy," Trevor said as he walked out of the room, "that impression you do of me dressing in the morning by falling into my closet is pretty accurate." Shawn began printing and quickly followed behind Trevor. "Lazy's putting it mildly, renob. Thank God you don't smoke pot".

For about fifteen seconds, the room was empty as Shawn and Trevor left for teaer pastures. The only thing going on in the room, other than the printer printing two copies of the entire collection of their stories, was the entrance of Trevor's cat, whose real name was unpronounceable in human tongues, but as the felines of Earth: Sol did not allow the humans to know of their ability to speak -- at least not for several decades -- it didn't matter what Trevor called him, which incidentally was 'Ringo'. This Ringo had given up trying to melt himself by the pool roasting motionless in the hot sun when the prospect of finding out what that high-pitched sound he had heard became momentarily intriguing. After all, he thought, curiosity never hurt a cat.

Entering the room after Shawn and Trevor passed him, Ringo came in to examine the sound of the printer in greater earshot, assuming it to be the reason. Once in the room it had occurred to him that he'd heard this sound before many a time and that such a discovery was hardly worth prolonging his sunbeam suicide. But then he heard it again, the original sound that gotten him off the patio and this time it made the hair on his back, still hot from the concrete he'd been lying on only moments ago, stand up.

Ringo hated when this happened because most of the time it was a false alarm and his fur didn't always go back down the way other cats' fur does so he'd have to lick it back into place, but in a weird position because it's hard to lick your back. This is, of course, why the most popular fetishist in the universe, that of Treguhnauh the Backlicking Naughtydoer of Albatron Seven, makes more money in her current profession than she ever did when she was merely a universal-renowned plasma donor.

But this time seemed like a legitimate reason to let the fur get stiff. Hell, considering how frequent the sound was becoming, Ringo considered it a legitimate reason to spray the carpet with his own brand of Ikean rain. Trevor and Shawn, although still in the kitchen manning the tea, couldn't hear anything but the kettle and their own insipid banter. Not that they would've heard the sounds Ringo was hearing and currently pissing at had they been in the room with him. The frequencies were so high pitched as to be rendered unhearable by human noses.

Back in the guest room, Ringo was going bonkers. He had stopped uncontrollably urinating, but the sounds were becoming more and more frequent and he was getting scared, partially because he knew he'd had a lot to drink that morning and could easily water an entire garden, but mostly because he couldn't move. The sounds continued with intensity, giving the poor cat temporary paralysis, until a burst of light filled the room and Reldikki and Yuine, covered in ectoplasm, materialized out of morbidly obese air. They had made it.

----

While this conspiracy theory does involve people and places that are documented and do exist, that of Reldikkiton, the scientists and Ikea, it should be noted that none of the events are substantiated.

In fact, in the movie, 'The New Dimension Seekers', a story about the real-life events of Yuine, Vozd and Steve's exploration of the Guhrid Quantrant of Deep Space Sector 9, an event that is said to have taken place after the alleged events of this conspiracy, there was a deleted scene where Vozd, in an attempt to cover up the jiffy they'd made, threw Steve over it, completely duping the police, all graduates of schools from the bluer areas. This was one of three original scenes that made reference to the conspiracy and a great effort has been made to disassociate the group with the tale. The Tahntaunton Estate, for the same reasons, have issued the following press release after making a large donation to the Stigbook Foundation For the Criminally Destitute. It reads, unlike Reldikki, as follows:

We, the esteemed and nearly departed Tahntauntons, wish it to be known that our son, the universe's most flammable author Reldikkiton Tahntaunton, has a silly name. He is also death-defyingly stupid, cocky, and not so great when it comes to doing things other than breathing. If it's voluntary, he can't do it. Many people know of him as a respected author, but since you can actually buy respect and also because no one's ever purchased or read one of his books it should be no surprise that none of his written works contain any actual words.

The reason we mention this is to address the story of Reldikki's involvement with The New Dimension Seekers. It is an impossible story, made all the more unbelievable by virtue of the fact that many tellings of the story involve Reldikki having named this other universe, something he is incapable of doing. You think he knows how to name things? Ask his son Tahntaunton.

We love Reldikki very much, but the truth, which is what family-owned corporations like ours live for, is inescapable: our young lad is not intelligent enough to get to another universe, let alone, employ someone else to do the work for him. He even pretends to say so in his latest book, "Grahahahaha, Stupid Book Title". Out today. Guaranteed to make you appear smart when people view it on your bookshelf.

The greatest flaw in this conspiracy is that Reldikki and Yuine, it is said, never returned from Ted, the alternate universe. It ends with them realizing they're stuck until someone on Earth: Sol invents interstellar space travel which doesn't even get considered until the cats take over.

But the fact that Reldikki and Yuine are both alive and approachable ( at least Yuine is, but it's best to wear plastic when addressing Reldikki face on ) seems to not deter the conspiracy theorists. They claim that when word got back to The Gods, they realized that if the two never came back they'd have to admit they don't know everything so instead they employed doubles.

A Reldikki and Yuine double? Please. It is absurd and it leaves the intelligent observing asking the eternal question: in what universe are farts NOT funny?