Inside the Gang Of Four

Part Two

As the meal progressed Padme, Wilddog and Mercutio continued to detail the history and structure of the sinister organisation.

With time the Gang of Four, developed a formidable strategy to wage war against its enemies. When Vader or one of the other foes, made a post the sect’s members would swing into action, in carefully regimented waves. Each member had been assigned a role, by the leader, and each member adhered to that role.

The first attack would be staged by the Twitterers. These were the lightweight and inconsequential chatterers – Sunny Days, Cream Horn, Moon, Sugar Bee, and several of the academy’s students would flutter around a topic. They would exchange inoffensive pleasantries and attempt to hijack the topic and distract its initiator.

This approach was particularly successful against the ineffectual Carter, who was always relieved when the conversation turned away from weighty matters where his lack of debating skills would be exposed.

Should this approach fail the leader would call on the rapier attack of the Pisstakers - Declan, Monkey_Magic, Rhumsaa, several of the Trolls, Mrs Trellis from North Wales, Dave the Cardboard Box, and a clone or two would enter the fray.

The approach of these posters was to launch a series of humourous barbs. Often they would create a “comedy” persona. Their goal was to annoy and disturb the flow of a poster. Steven, with his innate self righteousness and creative spelling often fell victim to these tactics.

Often several of the Pisstakers would hang around to provide support for the Big Hitters who went in next (the intellectual heavyweights of the forum - Ripsaw, Stavros (although his powers have lately begun to wane alarmingly), The Ruler of The Trolls, TPFKANOYN, and Addendum).

When one of the Big Hitters fixed in on his target, with a Monkey_Magic or BSE in support, he would rip every single phrase of their opponent apart. Every fact was examined and dismissed. This approach worked well because with the supporting Pisstaker angering their target, the posts became less coherent and left Ripsaw or Stavros to destroy every scintilla of argument that Vader and his chums could master.

---

My companions, pretty much explained the entire workings of the Gang. I was, however, still concerned about one thing.

“If I’m not joining through the academy or Ans’ re-education programme what are you gonna do to me, as part of my initiation.”

Padme watched sadly as the whirlpool of sheepie milk amalgamated into her coffee; Mercutio let out a sly chuckle; and Wilddog released a baying howl of laughter before replying.

“Ah, you are already a member. Your stories have seen to that. You’ve been a member for some time. It just took us a while to contact you.

“That’s why we have told you all this, shown you the Trolls, the induction ceremony, and that is why you will be at the Grand Ceremony like the rest of us. We knew it was safe to entrust you with this information, because you are a member.

“And a member cannot leave us or betray us, because he knows the consequences,” as he said these final words there was a cynical glint in his eye and I saw a flash of pointed teeth.

Naturally, I was distressed by this development, I appeared trapped in the evil cult, and if I was to escape, I would need to destroy it. I made my excuses and went to the toilet, to ponder the situation.

Whilst sat on the pan, I took the opportunity to compose a strongly worded letter to the moderators, Gary and Sarah. It read …

My Dearest Sarah ( & Gary)
To quote from the forum rules: -
"Thou shalt have only two Gods, and their names shall be Sarah (and Gary), and shall not band together to worship other things."
“And, thou shalt not bare false witness against Vader, because he cannot help it.”
In my time as a forum member I have witnessed many members breaking the above rules, being generally very beastly to each other, and must admit that I have done so also.
In defence of my naughtiness I must however point out that it was to reveal the evil doings of nasty other people, in the main from very senior members.
Most recently I have seen such members perform heinous acts of torture towards the weaker members of the forum, namely Phoneman and DRAM.
My own behaviour is not very good and if you feel you must then you can ban me but I also would like these other members investigated and banned if this is to be the case because they are members of an evil cult called the Gang of Four and want to destroy us all, members include:-
· Monkey_Magic
· Ans
· Ean
· Declan
· Stavros
· Roxanne
· Mercutio
· The Ruler of the Trolls
+ many others too numerous to mention.
I realise you have a difficult task on your hands but I was prompted to this course of action by other members more senior than myself so thought it best to bring the matter to your attention.
sincerely
GOF NO WAY (aka Ritchie).
I then ripped the paper from the roll, and secreted it in a bottle of Bushmills, that Declan had discarded, and flushed it down the loo. I had to hope that Sarah (or Gary) was walking along Douglas Beach as my missive washed ashore.

---

When I left the toilet, Padme was standing by the ornate sink. She grabbed me by the lapel and pushed me back into the cubical. I reached out to tenderly stroke her face but she batted my hand away.

“No time for that now, I need to ask you don’t like any of this anymore than I do, I am right aren’t I?” she earnestly whispered.

Perhaps, rather too loudly I blurted out “Yes I hate it, but…” she clamped a surprisingly firm to silence me.

“Shut up and listen!” she harshly instructed. “I’m part of a group, determined to overthrow this Gang. My colleagues are waiting outside to rescue us. But first we must play along some more. We need to find the leader’s identity.”

I nodded my ascent and we rejoined the plotters.

---

Back in the main hall, on stage, Roxanne, now wearing a sky blue PVC catsuit, was speaking.

"...after such a monumental repast, what better than a lively and energetic round of after dinner speakers, firstly allow me to introduce, from our sister organisation in the world of traditional media the spokeswoman for the Federation Of Outraged Listeners - Ms Marjorie Joughin."

The stunning brunette who was sitting on the left of the stage rose to speak. She was wearing a leopardskin leotard that when it came to erotic allure outshone every outfit in the room. Even the Roxanne's infamously provocative attire appeared like the garb of a dowdy maiden aunt in comparison.

From backstage a hidden Oogie Boogie yelled "Hubba Hubba!!! Hop On Baby!!!!". Ans was despatched to firmly remove him, this speech was clearly not for the tender ears of mere Academy Students.

---
Unfortunately, Ms Joughin’s sexual charisma disappeared when she began to speak. In a voice that could control mad rapist dolphins she addressed the Gang “Thank you, David, I mean Andy, I mean Rog…er Roxanne. I want to thank you for inviting me here.

“When I first heard of the interweb I was horrified, “Imagine people talking to one another over secret wires,” I said, “They could be saying anything, David” I thought it would be full of English financial sector workers, and their friends in government, discussing the destruction of the Manx birthright and building more houses. Then when fellow FOOL member Roy produced a report into the cost of an interweb. I was shocked, David. Did you know, David that it cost one quarter of a penny more to connect than in that cesspit of colonialist corruption across the water, David. Now what honest decent hard working Man family could afford that!

“But I’ve been pleasantly surprised with your group’s ability to disrupt coherent debate, with inane and irrelevant comments and I wish to throw the full support of FOOL behind your cause, David.”

“Your enemies are; are our enemies!

“I have it on very good authority from a senior official in the Planning Office, that Vader owns 17 houses in Douglas, which could be used by decent young Manx families but he will only rent to lardy daa Financial Sector Yuppies.

“And the rents he charges, David, are extortionate. EXTORTIONATE!!!!! David EXTORTIONATE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“I tell you what, David, some of the Gangs foes don’t even live on the Island – I’ve been told, by a very senior politician that Carter is a bishop with an enormous manse in leafy Smethwick; Nessa is a descendent of Lord Derby and lives in a stately home in Hertfordshire; whilst Riki is one of Bromley’s top investment bankers.

“Something smells foul, David. FOUL!!! and it’s not Riki’s long Johns.

“I pledge that FOOL will fight the good fight, shoulder to shoulder, with the Gang of Four to the death!

“DDDDAAAAAVVVVVIIIIIIDDDD!!!!!!”

---
Like the pre-L-Dopa patients in Awakenings, the gathering sat in a glassy eyed catatonic stupor following Marge’s oration. Roxanne was murmuring to herself, “David, Why does she keep calling me David?”

Stavros was the first to react, he violently shook his head like a grizzly bear awakening from hibernation, and rose to address the masses, “Hello, peeps, your old mate Stavros here! Hey that speech was very good no! Let’s have a nice round of the clap for Ms Joughin.”

The diners stirred themselves enough to proffer a stunted round of applause. “And now er peeps, please be a welcome to ah whatthefucisdeword.”

Monkey_Magic, sensing that Stav’s oratorical skills had reached their limit, and that Roxanne was still reeling from being confused with an aging male radio personality, leapt to his feet in an effort to save the situation.

As was his way, he chattered away for about five minutes to introduce the next speaker “from our political wing … the poster known only as PK”

The small furtive little man, who was next to Ms Joughin, stood up. Although he was wearing a dinner jacket every atom of his person at being constrained in such conservative attire. This was the man for whom the word dishevelled had been invented. With one glance I could tell that he had been counting the moments until he was free to change back into his stone-washed denim jacket and jeans or shell-suit.


---
“Mr. President, I would like to move a composite, plebiscite motion, amongst the honourable members here present to confer and condone our applaudigies to the Honourable Apeman for such an effusive and elusive welcoming address.

“It has been an invigorating and intellectualising period in the honourable house in which I have the discredible honour to be an honourable member in and of. I have been indoubtedly inergetic in fighting and thwarting corruption at every turn. I have moved anthracite and satellite motions uncoupling the corruption in the cistern.

“Why only this very day of the clock, I swiftly intervented, when I discovered that the honourable member for the honourable town of Ramsey had incontraduitibly used a sheef of the honourable Parliament’s headed, branded, and corpulate notepaper to make a list. A list for his own unwanted retail personal use. I have obtained a copy of the said itematical list and quite discomputing reading it makes.”

Here PK removed a screwed up ball of paper, from inside his jacket.

---

PK began to read from the list.

“Eggs, six

“Bleach, Domestious, now I say in the spirit of no disrespectfulness to Mr Stavrodopopopodous, but what is wrong with Manx Bleach. Does the Honourable member not care for the local peroxide farmers.

“Puncher repair kit,

“Chocolate – here we see the declaness of the man, because honest to goodness, salt of the Earth working class Milk Trey isn’t good enough for him, no! The honourable member has scrittled in the parentis Ferryo Rocher. He probably intense to spoil his fancy friends like the Norwayian Embarrassaador.

“Cockatiel Sausages

“Stain Remoever, I may add he needs an industrial vat of the stuff.

“Wine (red, white, sparkling and rose)

“Napkins

“Feather Duster

”Antidisinfectant Spray

“Corruption, Corruption , Corruption, I tell ya!!

“I immediately moved a stalagmite motion on the floor of Tinnywald for the Honourable Member’s immediate dispulsion from the house”

From the rear of the hall there was an enormous uproar, a young bookish man with a hang dog expression was standing up.

“Asterix” he launched a lamb chop that caught PK on the temple.

“Expulsion” an orange, blackened the politician’s eye.

“Asterix” with unerring accuracy the young man hit PK on the bridge of his nose, causing him to fall unconscious into his tarmasalata.

---

Roxanne, had changed clothes again, she now wore a black business suit, without a bra or a blouse, only the top button was done, and as she we could glimpse her pierced midriff and plunging neck line.

“Thankyou, PK, for such an enlightening speech, we all have learnt a great deal about the inner workings of the Government. I’m sure th entire Gang of Four will join me in wishing you a speedy recovery from Mr. Pedantic’s presumptuous intervention.”

As the applause died down, Ans pipped up “Shall I discipline Pedantic”

Roxanne pausing for a moment to contemplate replied “As satisfying as I know you will find that, I don’t see how you can. Pedantry, is after all one of our core objectives. We can’t discipline a member for adhering to these.”

PK, stirred briefly, murmuring “Corruptual, Corruptual,” but quickly ducked down as a saucer whizzed past his ear.

Roxanne was about to speak but was interrupted by a thunderous vibration from her pelvic area. She let out a girlish giggle, before decorously turning her back to the congregation and, delving deep into her trousers, she removed an enormous mobile phone.

We could only catch snatches of the ensuing conversation, “Yes … m’laud… Yes… Now!”

After replacing the phone with a chuckle, she faced us once again and announced, “The Leader has spoken. All is ready. If we can make our way to the temple the ceremony will begin.”

---

We congregated at the rear of the dinning hall on a rectangular grid that sat within the refectory’s floor. When we were all assembled the grid began to lower. For about five minutes we slowly and deliberately descended before coming to a gentle halt in a pitch black place, from all around I could hear cavernous echoes but could see nothing.

As soon as we stopped the mob burst forward, into an all-encompassing void and I was swept along with it. In the confusion I became separated from Padme. I called out to her but in the maelstrom of feverish chatter from the cult members nothing distinct could be perceived.

So I allowed the crowd to carry me forward, ever onwards towards whatever fiendish goal lay at the conclusion of this dastardly drama. For this one blissful moment I succumbed to the psychological comfort of the hive mentality. In time, however I regained my sense of self and of purpose. As I was carried ever forward, I became increasingly aware of my environment. The further we travelled into the chasm, an incandescent, ethereal bioluminescence began to reveal more and more of my surroundings.

We now were deep underground, in a dark and dank passageway. The walls were damp and decorated with a green algae from which the light emanated.

Far off at the culmination of the tunnel was a brilliant pinprick of light, to which, like a vegetarian at Pamplona, I was being reluctantly propelled.

Urgently, I searched for Padme, or at least one of the friendlier members of this insidious band. I spotted Mercutio and Monkey_Magic but they had a fixed crazed look in their eyes. Upon scanning the crowd I recognised the same zombiefied air of vacant intent about them.

When I eventually spotted Padme, I struggled to manoeuvre myself against the tide to be near her, but she swept past me, oblivious to my presence, with the same hollow vacant look in her eyes.

---

Despite the frenzied haste of our progress, the journey to our destination was interminable. I began to wonder whether the entire raisen d’etre of the Gang lay not, at the end of this eternal tunnel, but in the feverish pursuit of this journey.

Eventually, however, we reached the tunnel’s mouth, and poured into a brilliantly illuminated cavern. I looked around for the source of this dazzling illumination but, could not locate it. Above, from where the light emanated, could only see the dazzling light, but not the roof of this cavernous catacomb, I could not gauge the extent of this room, but by the way the chattering singsong voice of Monkey_Magic echoed all around me, I knew it to be vast.

Located in the distant centre was a gilded alter or plinth, which was partially obscure by an eldritch mist which swirled around it, making it impossible to discern the true form of the ghostly shapes that were moving spasmodically on it’s apex.

All the haste and urgency of the preceding minutes now left the cult member’s movements, but there remained an air of unworldly compulsion in the way the conspirators, slowly and respectfully approached the centre piece.

I attempted to place myself alongside Padme but, I was gently but firmly manoeuvred away from her by Stavros and Ans.

The Gang stopped about ten yards away from the dias and formed a circle around it’s base. Each member clasping the hand of his immediate neighbours. Padme was firmly held between the bulky frames of Ans and Stavros. I began to fret over who I was to extricate her when the time for flight was at hand. This must surely, not be far off, because I had the prescient feeling that the leader of the insidious Gang of Four was about to reveal himself.

I found myself between the frail DRAM and a curious gnomic creature. The latter wore a large baggy multicoloured sweater and an elderly sloppy woollen hat decorated with “inspirational” or “funny” button badges.

As we waited I passed the time reading the extraordinarily banal homilies she chose to disseminate to the world through the power of a magi-badge making kit. One coloured aquamarine read “In my POV words are Deceptive.” Another read “IMHO Love is … a co-dependency situation scenario”.

As we linked hands she whispered “The exit is sometimes where we least correctly suspect.”

Suddenly Roxanne spoke again – “Oh leader! The Gang of Four is now assembled! If it pleases you to make yourself available.”

---
A murmur of excitement peculated the crowd, but this was replaced by an uncanny silence as the mist surrounding the stage began to vanish and the figure of the leader began to emerge.

The stillness was broken only by the strange figure beside me who in a stage whisper exclaimed “A truth revealing situation emerges, but from my POV the truth can have many truthful scenarios to reveal”

I cast her a quizzical glance; when I returned my gaze to the dias I let out an incredulous gasp. For the Supreme Leader of the Gang of Four stood revealed, and for that moment, a more unlikely candidate for leading an evil, destructive sect, I could not envisage.

---
I am about to reveal the identity of the leader of the Gang of Four, the vile, repulsive and degrading ceremonies he forces his followers to indulge in; and how I came to play a small part in the destruction of this malignant entity.

And destroyed it was, but now the remnants of this despicable sect are regrouping and coalescing into guerrilla cells, and I find myself the target for retribution.

So my friends, if after revealing what I have to tell, I stop posting or I go quiet there is one explanation – I am dead.

Already I have had to endure attacks from the Gang. They blast my body with Ultra-sonic gamma neutron radiation rays via their mysterious stealth helicopters, operating from their secret base at the former Nobles hospital.

These attacks have left me ill, I am weak from their constant bombardments, I suffer extreme tiredness, headaches, and I am unable to stare at my computer screen for long periods of time. I regret that this has meant I have often been unable to continue my work and has resulted in the decline in the frequency of my updates on this most serious of tales.

Therefore, my friends, if I go silent, if my words of truth no longer resonate around this forum, I will be dead. If this terrible scenario materialises I implore you to continue my work. To bring my tale to a wider audience.

If I go silent please contact the following people and tell them that “RITCHE’S DEAD!!!!” ….

· Mr Vader McAngry of Onchan.
· Ms Nessa von Dribbling of Cyberspace.
· Mrs Hyacinth Bucket, MLC c/o Govt. Offices.
· Mr Eric Madeupwigtownshire of Border News, somewhere forgettable in Cumbria.
· Mr Peter Stringfellow of Soho, London, Chairman of the Campaign Opposing Cults and Klans.
· The Earl of Derby, Derby, President of The Manx Liberation Army.
· Riki Barschek, Bromley.
· Her Majesty, The Lord of Mann c/o Prince Charles, Gloucestershire.
· Steven’s son, Robert Louis Cleetus, a shack somewhere in Douglas.
· Sir Robert Robson, Newcastle, chair of Septuagenarians United Against the Young.
· Lady Geraldine of Jameson.
· Mr Gatepost Pedantic-Phoneman de Ninja, co-founder of the League Against That Sort of Thing.
· Earl Law, the House of Lords.
· Quintin Tarrantino, Farmer John, and Thingummyjig Theotherone, MHK’s for the great sheeding of Rushen.
· Sir Bickerstaff Corrin-Makepiece, chief constable of the Isle of Man Constabulary.
· Mr Paul Spewer O’Friday, columnist on The Manx Independent newspaper.
· Mr Olaf Olafsson, CEO of the Faeroese Whaling Commission.
· Miss Fenella Tavistock-Golightly, the Isle of Man Examiner’s chief investigative reporter.
· Sarah.
· Gary.

When these venerable personages learn of my demise they will instantly spring into action, publicising the information I have made available in any way they can.

YOU too can help, in the dissemination of the valuable information I have revealed here, copy this article, down load it to disk or print out.

Post this information wherever you can – upload it to forums across the net or any small area cyberspace you can get access to, leave hard copies of my tale in libraries and pin the tale to notice boards across the Island so that the public AT LARGE are aware of their peril.

The police forces in three localities have been advised of the threat I am under and have been given cd copies of this article to assist their investigations when I inevitably fall victim to the Gang’s Ultra-sonic gamma neutron radiation rays blaster.

Please help! When the time comes do not forget your responsibility to what is right.

---

And there he stood the Leader, the evil megalomaniac who had created the Gang of Four to do his bidding; who kept this secret army of Trolls and malcontents ready to act on his whim, through a serious of abominable thought control techniques; to whom they Gang were now swearing their unswerving loyality; who had pushed Steven to the point of incoherence, had forced Vader deep into the realms of insanity and had troubled Nessa in ways I cannot begin to imagine.

It was the twelve year old child who had bumped into me whilst playing with a ball in Stavros’ tearoom – Ean.

Was this whole conspiracy the plaything of a disturbed child? I could barely countenance this possibility but the evidence stood before me barely five foot high, but dressed in the golden vestments of a religious leader.

---

Ean, walked around the dias, peering into the darkness, and chillingly making eye contact with each member of the crowd. He circled his alter analysing and calculating the merits of his disciples, who remained statuesque, in a demented daisy chain. And whilst doing this, he began to speak.

“My children, my followers, MY PEOPLE! I have grave news for you, we have been infiltrated. Devious and destructive agents of our enemies are within our midst. Stood amongst you now, clasping your hands in imitation of your brethren are individuals dedicated to our elimination, and worse who intend to bring our very existence to public scrutiny.”

Despite Ean delivering the speech in the awkward crackling adolescent voice that inflicts boy sopranos at the end of their singing career, I was terrified by the