Ryan, here is the post from Dave Jones.

_____________________________________________________________________________

                            The Shaggy Thermal

        Some time ago one of our flying friends, Jim, died. Rather sad
really because he was such a character. It was typical of him that he
stated in his will that he was to be buried with his Radio (fully charged)
and his trusty Monarch HLG.
        Anyway, some few weeks later we had a seance and made contact with
a strong presence that announced itself as Jim. He was always one to talk
you leg off and he hadn't changed. The glass dashed madly across the board
and nearly wore the letters out. The story that unfolded was astonishing
and is here told and we have no way of verifying it. However here it is, in
full, in Jim's own words.

        ""I have to tell you about soaring in the after life, it's
certainly different. The first thing that I remember was falling down for
miles into a dark pit with my Monarch and radio clutched in my hands.
Eventually I came to a sudden stop in a clean white marble corridor. I was
not alone for long, a chap in an Armani suit came along and spoke to me.
        "Ah yes, Jim isn't it, welcome to our little kingdom."
        "Where am I?"
        "Oh, there is plenty of time for curiosity, all the time you want,
but to put you in your misery this is Hades."
        "Hell!"
        "Rather an overworked image that, we prefer Hades, it's less
threatening, and it rhymes better."
        "So who are you, the Devil."
        "There you go again, no my name is Mephistopheles, and I think that
you will find it more correct, politically that is, to call him the Dark
Lord, or when you get to know him Lucifer. Now come this way."
        We walked down this never ending corridor with white marble doors
bearing notices in white paint.
        "You know this isn't what I had in mind, it looks so clinical, cool
and clean."
        "Yes, good isn't it. We get a lot of corporate interior designers
down here so we gave them a break from the Kitsch room."
        "The Kitsch room?"
        "Of course you are new here. You see we don't go in for that fire
and brimstone stuff, very old fashioned. No, we find that it is best to
tailor the eternal environment to the client. So we have all of the
Interior designers living in a house with flock Paisley wallpaper, plastic
flowers, black vinyl covered chairs, flourescent T.V's. They wear bright nylon
hawaian suits and plastic sandals, that sort of thing."
        "That's not so bad?"
        "It is if you are an interior designer" he said in an ominous tone
and laughed.
        "Look here's an interesting room, we keep all the Coke heads in here."
        He pushed open a door to a room stacked with white powder, mirrors,
dollar bills and razor blades. Some figures were shuffling around in the
distance.
        "But you have given them everything that they want."
        Mephistopheles laughed.
        "Yes, everything, absolutely everything, except." He waited
expectantly for my question.
        "Except what?"
        "Noses. Nice touch that, it was one of Lucifer's lighter moments."
        He closed the door and we walked on for hours. From time to time
Mephistopheles would stop and open a door, it was horribly fascinating.
There were Merchant Bankers trudging streets in ragged clothing with
begging bowls, Heavy Metal freaks strapped to benches while Donny Osmond
songs were played at 110 decibels, Nagging Neighbours in rooms whose walls
were constantly being tapped, and too many more to mention now, another
time perhaps.
        By now I was getting the idea of how the system worked and I was
getting worried. We had reached the end of the corridor and were walking
through a cave.
        "Oh Jim, just ignore the decor around here, we haven't modernised
it yet."
        "What are these pits?"
        "Nothing very special, we call it the Bunyan section, it's so corny
now. You see here, this one is for good intentions, that one up ahead, the
huge one, is full of politicians promises. That one ahead is full of
advertisers lies. We've already passed the pit of adulteries, quite an
amusing one that, perhaps my favourite. You see that pile over there, Golf
balls, the minor demons have great fun stealing them, childish really."
        We were passing the pit of politicians lies and Mephistopheles
dragged his hand through the slimy surface. He stopped and held up several
strips of decaying paper. I read them quickly; "Peace in our time", "Watch
my lips", "Full Employment", "The Triumph of the Proletariat". He tossed
them carelessly back into the pit.
        Up ahead the light flickered, we were entering Lucifer's office, to
the right was a huge flaming pit, something else that hadn't been
modernised.
        "I would advise you to be polite, he can get nasty."
        "Sure, anything you say."
        Imagine my surprise when I was walked up to a table and sitting
there was the Dark Lord dressed like a Tax Inspector.
        "Next case." Lucifer said in a thin tired voice.
        " Errr, hmmm, Jim, your highness."
        "Cut the crap, let's see why you are here."
        He picked up a single sheet of paper.
        "Risque jokes, sexism, passing wind in public. This is puerile you
shouldn't have been sent here. Ah wait, here it is; He did switch his
transmitter on in the car park. He shot down another flyer. He then kept
quiet about it. Ah hah, got you."
        "Wait a minute, that's not a cardinal sin."
        "He doesn't know does he Mephistopheles, tell him."
        Mephistopheles cleared his throat.
        "You see Moses didn't get the whole script, he got the one that
suited his time. Since then no one has asked for the whole set of tablets,
there should have been 100 commandments. The one that you have transgressed
is number 73. Sorry about that."
        I was crest fallen, if only I had known. Lucifer looked into my
face with a sly grin.
        "You get one last request before we assign you to your punishment."
        "What's the punishment?"
        "Well we thought that we would put you in a room with your glider
and have you launch it into sink for eternity. Just to make it more horrid
we are going to give you a bad case of Tennis elbow."
        The full horror of this hit me, an eternity of that was too much to
take.
        "In which case I would like to do one launch over the fiery pit
over there, just one last good flight before I go to my fate"
        "Hmm, yes, why not, off you go."
        I turned on the radio and model and took a quick look at the
thermals boiling off the lava surface. There was one last chance, I ran
towards the pit and threw myself off the edge hanging onto the model. As I
had anticipated the lift was enormous and I was carried upward, one hand
gripping tightly to the model as I worked the stick with my mouth. I rose
fast and then I heard the commotion below as Lucifer ordered some demons to
get me down. They flew up fast but I climbed faster and faster.
        It seemed like hours but eventually I broke through into the sphere
of mortals and shot upward on my momentum. I found myself over Washington
losing height, I headed for the White House lawn but suddenly found myself
in a 30 knot thermal directly over the Congress building. I soared
effortlessly into the sky and disappeared into the clouds.
        All of a sudden the mists cleared and I found myself on what looked
like a Sod farm. I circled and landed just in time, my batteries were
nearly dead. There was a small group talking by a fence so I approached
them.
        "Oh hello, we seem to have a new arrival, have a look on your
portable PC please Peter."
        "Certainly Oh Great One."
        I had some misgivings at this point since the Great One was dressed
in shorts, a Visalia T-Shirt, and a Baseball cap. He was sipping an ice
cold beer.
        "Errrr, excuse me Peter, I mean are you the "Pearly Gates" Peter
and is that who I think it is?"
        "Correct on both counts, errr yes, here you are, Jim."
        "So this is Heaven?"
        "In some languages it is called that. Ah by the way you shouldn't
be here."
        At this point the Great One strolled over and had a good look at
the Monarch.
        "This a new one?"
        "Yes, it's the Monarch FQ2 with the super laminar re-entrant
aerofoil."
        "You don't say!" The Great One was interested.
        "We soar up here you know in fact we are just going to the Trinity
Competition. I'm determined to beat my lad this time."
        I was astonished, soaring in Heaven and the chance to really have
God on your side, It was too good to be true.
        "Who are the teams?" I asked eagerly.
        "Well there's the Thermal Paps's Group, that's my team. Then my
lad's lot are called Papa's Son's Soarers, and there's the Coalition Of
Ghostly Gliders. We used to have a fourth team but they were alway's
flaming us so we don't fly with them anymore. Oh by the way do you fancy a
beer?"
        "Well Great One I am amazed, this is fantastic."
        At this point Peter coughed rather loudly to interrupt the
conversation.
        "Sorry Jim, but you shouldn't be here."
        "Peter, what's he done wrong?" The Great One asked.
        "He shot down a club mate and didn't admit it."
         The Great One sucked his teeth and grimaced, not a pretty sight.
        "Well I am afraid that about does it for you my boy. Just as a
matter of interest how did you get up here?"
        I picked up the glider and talked them through the flight, all the
twists and turns, the tactical switches of thermal, the fast penetration
and slow circling, it took about thirty minutes. They sat down, another
beer was offered to me, they were enthralled.
        "Hot Damn, that was some thermalling!" The Great One slapped his
leg, he was impressed.
        "Well actually it was nothing like as tough as the thermal I had to
fly in to beat Joe Wurts."
        The Great One looked at me aghast.
        "You, you, you managed to beat Joe Wurts!!!!!"
        "Just the once."
        The Great One's face lit up, he gave me a great fatherly smile.
        "That does it. Peter wipe his file. Jim, you are going to be in my
team.""

Dave Jones,
5 Wootton Rise,
Wootton Wawen
Warwickshire
B95 6BJ
England


rdwoebke wrote:
--- In [EMAIL PROTECTED], Mike Lachowski <[EMAIL PROTECTED]> wrote:
The time is now for the end of RCSE.



Mike, I wonder if you have a copy of the all time best RCSE post. I don't have it and would love to have it.

It was posted sometime in 1996 or 1997. It was a made up story, posted from a guy in England, where he had communicated with a dead flying buddy via a seance and the flying buddy had a story about going to hell with his glider. It was fantastic, well written.

Ryan




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