hpr-knowledge-base/hpr_transcripts/hpr1934.txt

Episode: 1934
Title: HPR1934: Experiencing the Meegopad T-02  Part two
Source: https://hub.hackerpublicradio.org/ccdn.php?filename=/eps/hpr1934/hpr1934.mp3
Transcribed: 2025-10-18 11:19:08

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This is HPR episode 1934 entitled Experiencing the MiGAPAD-D022 Part 2.
It is hosted by a shadowy figure and is about 15 minutes long.
The summary is part 2 of the saga of the MiGAPAD-D022.
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You are listening to a shadowy figure on Hacker Public Radio.
As I gazed upon the remains of the MiGAPAD-D022 scattered around my office like a chainsaw wielding maniac came unglued all over it.
I recall night-wise telling me, always keep your baseball bat, sledgehammer and chainsaw locked outside the shed when working with computers.
This is a sort of wisdom that can only come from experience.
But that MiGAPAD-D2 had a comment.
But my desk didn't.
I needed to replace both.
So I hopped back on tellment to let C-Parm Noah wanted my money back.
He said something about having an intimate relationship with myself.
I knew I needed to look other places to find another MiGAPAD-D2.
So I called C-2 the canary who just got out of the joint early with time off for bad behavior.
He's saying a little song about Alpha-32's little home ruling operation and is still.
He told me he could get the T-2.
But I'd have to meet him down at Mad Dog horses at midnight to get it.
And that would give me plenty of time to all by 5150's to see if I could find a new chainsaw resistant desk.
Hey, it's AcroPublic Radio. I love that show.
I can't wait to get on there and start scoring Farbees.
Oh, not another idiot using background music. Everybody hates that.
They really don't care who they let on there do they.
As I approached 5150's 24-hour pawn shop, I could see the places calling the GMAT.
Led by the Royal Dutch Patent Cops, they were loading out evidence in a pickup truck toolbox.
Every time I meet a guy wearing gas masks proclaiming the range lunacy, the same thing happens.
Every donut shop in town suddenly becomes empty.
So I nonchalantly draw one by.
I needed to find a chainsaw resistant desk and I needed to find one now.
Then it occurred to me. James Bond has Q.
A shadowy figure's got the Lafayette Public Library Maker Space.
It's my little secret I tried to in a pinch.
So I pointed my big block mo part towards the library and did my best to obey all the traffic laws.
A shadowy figure abides.
I arrived at the Maker Space just before closing time incident free.
Johnny Law had his hands full with 5150.
I strode into the Maker Space like I owned a joint.
Then I went looking for my inside contact, Sig Flub.
I found her making a Kindle stand wearing a Budcast T-shirt, a blue Mohawk and an Eagles of Death Metal Tattoo.
I told her I needed a chainsaw resistant desk and I needed one now.
She just sort of looked at me with concern.
Then I told her I've been working a lot with computers lately.
She relaxed a bit and said, oh, I see. Windows user, huh?
I said, no, me go pad T2.
She said she'd seen a trend developing.
This was the third one this week.
But the other two needed to be baseball bat resistant.
I told her I keep mine and shit.
She told me I might want to keep my chainsaw out there too.
I said, not a chance.
I wanted to strike fear into the heart of the next me go pad T2 that thinks it's going to play any games with a shadowy figure.
That looked a concern returned to Sig Flub's face.
I slipped her a C note and told her to have a delivered to my mountain fortress.
Walking into Mad Dog Morse's pool halls like walking into a roaring 20 speak easy.
I took a look around the joint and spied a hook of the hun sitting in the back with a blonde on one arm and a redhead on the other.
Both were admiring as mighty Sony PCMD100.
Upon the killer cope with shooting pool alone over in the corner sporting a $2 lapel mic from the Amazon wire to a Morance PMD660 under a sports coat.
He said no me to come on over.
Once I got there he handed me a cue and told me to rank him up.
I asked him, what are the stakes?
He replied, I heard you were in the market for me go pad T02.
I said, yeah, how did you know?
He told me clad to the canary was asking around about a shadowy figure earlier.
I fit the description.
So what's on the line I asked?
He told me his me go pad T02 against my blue yeti.
I reached in my trench coat, pulled out my yeti and placed it on the pool table.
Let's rock killer cope.
We each placed our hardware on a cocktail table in a rack tomorrow.
Killer cope broke like a man possessed.
He sunk two low balls and lined up for an easy shot on the floor.
I ordered a drink from the waitress as a cloud began to gather around us.
He dropped the four ball like a palm dress in the back seat of a 68 chavelle on a hot Saturday night.
He lined up to bank the six ball on the long bank into the corner pocket.
He sunk it but he scratched.
Now I had to mix in progress and make it now.
I hammered the twelve ball inside pocket and lined up to sink to fifteen on the other side.
It dropped but now I didn't have an angle to shoot anything.
I had to do a jump shot to get past a seven ball.
If I could do it it would set me up to run the table.
No dice, the nine ball wasn't dropping.
Killer cope took a long slash off his whiskey and eyed the table.
Then smiled as he said.
Seven ball near corner, two ball on the side, and three ball in the far corner.
He fired the cue ball at just the right angle to sink the seven and ricochet down the table to drop the two.
But he didn't have enough momentum to make it to the three.
I took out the thirteen, the nine, and eleven in quick succession.
When I lined up to sink the fourteen, I looked up from the table and saw Class II,
the canary over at the bar talking to Mad Dog Morris.
They were both pointing at me.
The canary was ratting me out.
And Mad Dog Morris didn't get his name from grooming poodles down by the seaside.
I once watched him in a fit of drunken rage pick a fight with the entire three judges pub.
He kicked everybody's ass one at a time.
And his enforcer, known as the Frank Nity of Glasgow, once peed in the same toilet as Lord Kelvin.
These aren't the sort of people you want to mess with.
Mad Dog stepped up to the pool table, looked me in the eye, and said,
a little bird told me he skipped out on your bar tab last weekend.
I told him it must have been a case of mistaken identity.
He told me he was going to change my identity if I didn't cough up $62.50.
I asked him if he'd take a chainsaw, resist a desk in his place.
Then all went quiet.
A look came over Mad Dog's face.
It was the same look he had the night he beat up everybody in the three judges pub.
I didn't look away from his cold steely eyes as a little smoke.
But I clutched my pool stick a little bit tighter.
Keep an eye on your HPR feed for a shadowy figure to find out what happens in part three.
Special thanks go to the HPR contributors who give me such fantastic material to work from.
Without you, I wouldn't have nothing to build a story from.
All music is courtesy of the amazing Kevin McCloud at www.compatect.com
All sound effects courtesy of FreeSound.org contributors you can find out more in the show notes.
This is a shadowy figure signing out from the darkness.
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