written by Jonathan
scribed by David
long pointless parenthetical remarks written by David

computing by George (David's computer)
printing by Harry (David's printer)
storage by Frank (David's hard drive)
transportation by Joe (David's floppy drive)
entertainment by Dan (David's CD-ROM drive)
annoyment by Beth (David's sister)

We'll start by telling you some of the background of Superclipium. He used to be a paper clip. In fact, he was the holy paper clip of Antioch, who could only clip papers in stacks 2 feet tall, in which the papers all had been hole-punched except for 33 of them, and in which there were an equal number of red and turquoise papers, and which could only be used on the third Sunday of March after the 138th full moon (after which the full-moon numbering system started over at one) on silver plates in China. It had gotten most of its power and decisiveness from the planet Bizorka, which was inhabited by the Bizorkians, who (if they can be referred to as whos) had a great need of clipping papers together. But that will be told of in the prequel, to be published the next time we feel like it (or maybe the time after that, if we decide to do a sequel first, or if we decide to write about the evil Bizorkian hole puncher, whose duties were to punch all the papers that the holy paper clip would hold except the 33 that were not to be punched).

The holy paper clip was soon bent out of shape because it was not unuseless. Until one day, a hedgehog by the name of Asjh decided to create Superclip out of it. But soon, it fell into the hands of the battery, whose name is not known (actually, it is known, but in order to pronounce it, you would have to cut out your tongue, which many creatures choose not to do, the main exception being the Bizorkians) the battery hooked itself up to a recharger (made in Bizorkia) and recharged itself. It then drained itself into Superclip and repeated steps 2 through 145.46632 (note that these numbers are not given in decimal form, but rather in the closest approximation available to the Bizorkian number system; actually converted, the above numbers would proabably be around 62 through 17), thus making superclip into Superclipium. But soon after the battery died, a funeral was planned in his honor, but nobody came (or rather, nobody visible except under an electron microscope; of course, we should remember that Bizorkian electron microscopes are considerably less powerful than the ones we are used to, and therefore the smallest thing you could probably see under them was an elephant (A Bizorkian elephant, that is; don't ask); we should also keep in mind that most Bizorkians were things, not bodies, and so...well, never mind; you probably don't remember what we were talking about anyway) came.

Now, one day as Superclipium was tearing through space in his new cybernautic space-battery (again, don't ask) heading for Earth (actually, heading for what the Bizorkians called Earth, which I won't tell you because A) it's another one of those words that requires you to cut your tongue out and B) it sounds insulting in English) he saw a vision of his worst nightmare, which has no correlation with this story but Harry thought we should include it anyway (you don't remember who Harry is? Go check the credits at the beginning of the story).

When he reached Earth, he crash-landed because A) that was the normal method of landing on Bizorkia, B) he felt like it, C) His cybernautic space-battery died, and D) there is no D, we just put that there to make this story longer.

(The author has just been kidnapped by Bizorkians, so...)

TO BE CONTINUED...

Note that this will become a semi-bi-two weekly publication (that or whenever we feel like it). Please reply if you want to continue receiving these (please reply anyway; otherwise we will keep sending you these. Come to think of it, we might send them to you anyway). Please don't reply to correct our spelling, grammar, or punctuation; we pay good money to have a Bizorkian do that and it's not his fault that he's not here today. (Once again, don't ask.) So, so long for now.

paperclipishly,
Jonathan and David

P.S. Remember: If you give a man a fire, he'll be warm for a day. If you set a man on fire, he'll be warm for the rest of his life.