LNH: LNH Comics Presents #54: Infinite Leadership Cry.sig #19

[EDMLite]

LNH Comics Presents #54:

INFINITE LEADERSHIP CRY.SIG #19:
Ordinary Lady/
Adamant-Authority-On-Everything

"World Enough And Time"

By Rob Rogers

8 p.m., Wednesday, April 18

    "I can't believe I'm agreeing to this,"
Pulls-Paper-Out-Of-Hats-Lad said, as
Procrastination Boy ushered him into
the TV lounge.

    "You've been doing such a great job of
choosing a new leader every time the last one
disappears," said the Incredible-Man-With-No-
Life, "that we thought you'd be perfect for
determining which one of us gets the remote."

    "Fine," Pulls-Paper-Out-Of-Hats-Lad
muttered, knuckles scraping against
velvet as he rummaged around inside his hat.
"It's...um... Time-Waster Lad."

    "I... I don't know what to say," Time-
Waster Lad said, as Procrastination Boy
presented him with the Legion's universal
remote control.  "I propose... that we spend
the next two hours... watching 'The Big
Lebowski'... again."

    "Discovering new levels of meaning,"
The Incredible-Man-With-No-Life said
reverently, turning to Pulls-Paper-Out-Of
Hats-Lad.  "You have chosen... wisely."

    "I don't *@#$%^ believe this," said
Innovative-Offense Boy, entering the lounge.
"I was sure that once Super Apathy Lad
disappeared, the three of you would find
something else to *@#$%^! do."

    "And we have," Time-Waster Lad said,
pointing to his laptop computer, which
displayed a multicolored map of the world.
"I've got a pretty good game of
'Civilization' going on over here, in
addition to cinematic goodness."

    "*@#$%^! cinematic goodness,"
Innovative-Offense Boy said, folding one
heavily-muscled arm over the other.
"Ordinary Lady left instructions for all
active Legionnaires to report to the Peril
Room."

    "We're hardly active," The Incredible-
Man-With-No-Life said.

    "#@$%^&*!@#$%^&*(!<>?@#%^!!!"
Innovative-Offense-Boy barked, spewing
forth a stream of vulgarities so powerful
that the large, overstuffed couch in the
center of the television lounge burst
into flames.  Procrastination Boy, The
Incredible Man-With-No-Life and Pulls-Paper-
Out-Of Hats-Boy scrambled out of the room.

    "Aren't you *@#$%^ coming?" Innovative
Offense-Boy said, as Time-Waster Lad
emptied his drink on the sizzling furniture.

    "Next commercial," Time-Waster Lad said.
"You wouldn't want me to just leave the
Egyptians without a granary, now would you?"

    Innovative-Offense-Boy threw up his
hands and followed the others to the Peril
Room's observation gallery, where rows
upon rows of the Legion's finest, in
addition to a small flock of green kiwis,
waited to hear what he had to say.

    "Thank you very much for *@#$%^ coming
here," Innovative-Offense-Boy said,
addressing the crowd.  "As you know, our
leader, Ordinary Lady, is currently
fighting the *@#$%^ villain Mother Time.
Before she left, however, she told me how
worried she was that the Legion had never
become the elite *@#$%^ fighting force
Ultimate Ninja had always dreamed it
could be."

    "What do you mean, we're not elite?"
mumbled Bad-Timing-Boy, his mouth full of
cheesecake.

    "We've been wanting to train, but the
Peril Room has been disabled, ever since
the now-classic LNH Comics Presents #35,"
Kid Recap said.

    "I've *&^%$#@ taken care of that,"
Innovative-Offense-Boy said, pressing a
Button.  A long rectangular panel slid
open, providing those in attendance with
a view of the Peril Room.  "From now
on, every Legionnaire is going to
*@#$%^& fight his or her way through...
the 36 CHAMBERS OF PERIL!"

    "My God," New Look Lass gasped,
staring into a labyrinth of traps,
explosives, exercise equipment and what
appeared to be part of the 'It's a Small
World Wide Web' ride from Dis.Net World.
"It looks like a torture chamber."

    "And not even the fun kind," said
Sleeps With-Anything-Alive Girl, who had
been allowed to return to active service
during the current crisis.
    "WikiBoy, you'll be in charge of
supervising the *@#$%^ training,"
Innovative-Offense-Boy said.

    "Me?" WikiBoy gasped.  "But I'm..."

    "...the world's greatest @#$%^&
martial arts master," Innovative-
Offense Boy finished.  "And don't
@#$%^! revert until this exercise
is over."

    The Legionnaire Anyone Can Edit
bowed, his clothing shifting into the
dark blue robes of a Shaolin monk.
A long, pointed mustache sprouted on
either side of his mouth, like the
quills of a porcupine, while his
face betrayed a quiet wisdom.

    "You've got to be kidding,"
Sarcastic Lad snickered.  "WikiBoy is
going to teach us kung fu?"

    WikiBoy lifted his hands, palms
outward, toward Sarcastic Lad, who
flew across the room as though jerked
backward by wires, crashing headlong
into the sign that read "SAFETY FIRST!
NO PERIL ROOM ACCIDENTS FOR _18_ DAYS."

    WikiBoy muttered something in
Mandarin and lowered his hands.

    "What'd he say?" The Incredible
Man-With-No-Life asked.

    "Look at the subtitle," Sleeps
With-Anything-Alive-Girl said,
pointing to the yellow block letters
hanging in the air beneath WikiBoy's
head.  "He said, 'Frickin' lame.' "

    "This is going to be a looooong
day," Procrastination Boy said.

    *         *         *

    Similar thoughts were passing
through the mind of Ordinary Lady,
who -- thanks to the machinations
of Mother Time -- was currently
engaged in a battle against
five other Ordinary Ladies, each
representing a different course
her life might have taken.

    "What a waste of an afternoon,"
Ordinary Lady said, parrying a
swordstroke with one of her sais.
"At least I'm finally battling a
worthy opponent."

    "Why, thank you," Mother Time
said, surveying the battle from an
Adirondack chair she'd set up in
the center of her abandoned
clothing factory.

    "Not you," Ordinary Lady said,
staring into the eyes of her duplicate.
"Tell me, are you the Ordinary Lady
who chose Ultimate Ninja over
Innovative-Offense Boy, or the
Ordinary Lady who decided to leave
the LNH and join the Deadly Serpent
clan of assassins?"

    "Neither," said the other
Ordinary Lady, dropping into a
crouch and lashing out with a kick.
"I'm the Ordinary Lady who voted for
Ralph Nader in 2000 and 2004."

    "LIAR!" screamed the original
Ordinary Lady, who leaped to avoid
her foe's attack, only to collide
with a small group of glowing,
homicidal Easily-Discovered Men.

    "My thanks to you, O mistress of
Martial Might!" Easily-Discovered Man
said, before charging back into the
midst of his duplicates, fists flying.

    "Into the valley of Easily-
Discovered Men rode Easily-Discovered
Man!" Easily-Discovered Man thundered."
Easily-Discovered Man to the left of
him!  Easily-Discovered Man to the
right of him!"

    "And here I was actually worried
about this," said Mother Time, who
lowered her scythe and raised a glass
of pink lemonade to her lips.  "This is
more entertaining than Mexican wrestling."

    At the other end of the factory
floor, behind two heavy pallets
crowded with bell-bottom jeans, leather
leisure suits and flame-striped go-go
boots, the voluptuous form of Ripping
Dancer watched the battle, while
Easily-Discovered Man Lite watched the
voluptuous form of Ripping Dancer.

    "Lite," the Legion's newest
member whispered. "Thank God both
of us have been able to keep out of the
way of Mother Time's magic mirror."

    "So far," Lite said.  "But it's
also kept us from getting any closer to
her.  By the way, are you single?"

    "That's not important right now,"
Ripping Dancer said.  "Keep your eyes
closed.  In fact, do what I'm doing,
and use your shirt as a blindfold."

    "That's a brilliant idea," Lite
said, removing his shirt and looping it
around his eyes.  "Hold on a second.
Does this mean you're walking around
topless?"

    "Keep your mind on the mission,
Lite," Ripping Dancer hissed, inching
her way around Obnoxious Ame.rec.a Boy
Blue, who was battling four copies of
himself and what looked like an
enormous hot dog.

    "Are you kidding?" Lite asked.  "I
couldn't possibly keep my... wait!  I can!
I guess there are some advantages to not
being eighteen any more, after all!"

    "Well, isn't this precious?"
Mother Time said, as the two heroes
advanced past rows of sowing machines.
"Two blind heroes.  See how they crawl!
They crawled right into the villain's
knife!  Who aged them both to the end
of their lives!"

    "And yet you weren't always a villain,
were you... Helen?" Lite asked.

    Mother Time, who had picked up her
scythe, laid it down again and folded
her fingers together.

    "What did you call me?" she said.

    *         *         *

    "I noticed that you weren't at the
*@#$%^& Peril Room," Innovative-Offense
Boy said.  "Is everything all right?"

    "He was like a son to me," Steak-and
Potatoes Man said, sobbing into his gloves.
"Or at least the best sous-chef I've ever
had. I was so proud of him when he outgrew
his role as my sidekick, and even prouder
when he became leader of the LNH.  And now
he's gone..."

    "Frat Boy," Special-Bonding-Boy said,
by way of explanation.  "Don't worry.  I'll
take care of him."  To the still-blubbering
form of Steak-and-Potatoes-Man, he said,
"Really, it's going to be all right."

    "Thanks," Innovative-Offense Boy said.
"I have a feeling that before this day is
over, we're going to need every *@#$%^!
hand we can get."

    "Kiwi!" several kiwis agreed.

    "Blurgle!" spat Adamant-Authority-On
Everything, whom Mother Time had turned into
a baby.

    "He says that he's still the deputy
leader of the LNH, not you, and that with
Ordinary Lady in the field, you should be
taking orders from him," Linguist Lass
translated.

    "*@#$%^& me," Innovative-Offense Boy
said.  "What does he want now?"

    Adamant-Authority-On-Everything
babbled, flailing his chubby arms as he
spoke, and Linguist Lass explained what
he wanted.

    "Oh for *@#$%^& sake," Innovative-
Offense Boy sighed, picking up the infant
deputy leader and patting him on the back.

    "BURRRRP!" Adamant-Authority-On-
Everything said, supremely satisfied.

    *         *         *

    "Browsing Boy told me that before
this place was a factory, it was a
hotel," Lite said, staring in what he
hoped was the direction of his adversary.
"New Year's Eve, 1977.  Huge party.
Disco balls everywhere.  Flashing lights
on the dance floor, a little Barry
Manilow in the air..."

    "I'm beginning to be glad there's
only one of you, whomever you are,"
Mother Time said.

    "A fire breaks out -- no one's quite
sure how -- leaving fifty-seven dead,"
Lite said.  "Oh, and one scarred survivor:
a woman named Helen Reddy, whose hair is
reported by witnesses to have become
chalk-white as a result of the horror
she experienced."

    "Do I look scarred to you?" Mother
Time said, wrapping one curl of her
silver hair around a fingertip and
drawing it out.  "Oh... I forgot.  You're
blindfolded.  Go on."

    "Time heals all wounds... especially
when someone gives you the power to
control it," Lite said.  "My guess is
that you sold your soul to Frank, the
Demon Lord of '70s Memorabilia, who
wanted you to use the magic scythe and
hourglass he gave you to transform his
enchanted '70s costumes into ordinary,
even stylish-looking clothes -- clothes
everyday people would be tricked into
wearing, once you set up your phony
factory.  Frank gets a legion of
unsuspecting people wearing his
possessed clothes, you get your friends
back from the dead..."

    "Who are you supposed to be?  Pulls-
Idiotic-Theories-Out-Of-His-Ass-Boy?"
Mother Time said.  "My name is Tamela,
thank you very much.  I took the hourglass
and scythe from the Time Crapper when
we broke up."

    "Really?" Lite said.  "My ex never
even returned the movie we rented on
our last date to the video store.  How'd
you end up with such a great consolation
prize?"

    "And I've never heard of any
dark lord of '70s... whatever you said
he was," Mother Time said, finishing
her drink and getting out of her chair.

    "Then where did you get the idea
to sell old clothes as new outfits?"
Lite asked.

    "From Urban Outfitters," Mother
Time said.  "God, you must be the
worst super-hero I've ever... what's
that sound?"

    "That's the sound of your Mirror
of Possibility crashing like Lindsay
Lohan on a Monday morning," Ripping
Dancer said.  "Thanks for distracting
her, Lite."

    "It's what I do," Lite said,
blushing.

    "But... but... that thing wasn't
even paid for!" Mother Time moaned,
slamming the butt of her scythe into
the floor.  "Just for that, I'm going
to ship all your asses to the dawn of
time and leave you in a puddle full of
trilobites."

    "Not without this, you won't,"
Ordinary Lady said, holding up
Mother Time's magic hourglass.

    "Hey!  That was an anniversary
present!" Mother Time screamed, her
scythe crackling with energy.  "How
dare you..."

    "Transmat out!" Ordinary Lady said,
and the Legionnaires disappeared in
a flash of light.

    "I never really wanted to be an
Oscar Meyer wiener," Obnoxious Ame.rec.a
Boy Blue said, clearly shaken by his
experience.  "And yet, maybe... maybe
on some deeper level, I did."

    "There, there," Easily-Discovered
Man said.  "All of us have, at one time
or another."

    "That was pretty quick thinking,"
Ripping Dancer said, following Ordinary
Lady from the transmatter terminal to the
Central Command Center.  "Was there
ever really such a person as Helen Reddy?"

    "Not that I know of," Lite said. "So
how did you know that staying blindfolded
would keep the mirror from producing
duplicates of us?"

    "I didn't," Ripping Dancer admitted.
"I just wasn't ready to face the women
I might have been."

    "We've got a situation," Ordinary
Lady said, as the group entered the
command center's conference room.
"I have Mother Time's hourglass,
but she still has her scythe.  She's
angry, and she's probably on her way
here."

    Adamant-Authority-On-Everything
cooed.

    "He says, 'That's good news!
Maybe she'll finally bring back that
Legion landspeeder.  Do you have any
idea how much fuel that thing...' "

    "We're not invading Ve.net.zuela,"
Ordinary Lady said.  Turning to
Innovative-Offense Boy, she asked,
"Are our troops ready to fight?"

    "I'll check with our @#$%^^&
trainer," Innovative-Offense Boy
said, activating a button on one of
the wall consoles.  A gong rang,
and WikiBoy appeared, still dressed
in his monk's robes.

    "We need everyone on the team ready
immediately," Ordinary Lady said.
"Are they up for it?"

    WikiBoy bowed and said something
in Mandarin.

    "He's standing in front of a
yellow wall," Innovative-Offense Boy
said.  "I can't read the *@#$%^!
subtitles."

    "Oh," Linguist Lass said.  "I'll
just tap into this new power I have that
allows everyone in the room to understand
what everyone else is saying."

    Every eye in the chamber focused
on Linguist Lass.

    "What?" she asked.

    "You might have *@#$%^& mentioned
this sooner," Innovative-Offense Boy
said.

    "I like to feel important,"
Linguist Lass said.

    "As I was saying," WikiBoy said.
"Hardly any of the Legion is prepared
for combat duty.  In fact, most of them
are recovering in the medical wing."

    "What?" Ordinary Lady said.  "But I
left orders for them to be trained to
the utmost levels of physical fitness!"

    "And so they were," WikiBoy said.
"But many of our members haven't
experienced a great deal of activity
for quite some time.  In fact, just the
walk from his office to the Peril Room
was enough to place Renegade
Programmer on the disabled list."

    "I see," said Ordinary Lady,
sinking into one of the command center's
leather chairs.  "Who do we have left?"

    "The only ones to make it through
the training process... especially after
the incident with Bad-Timing Boy... were
Sleeps-With-Anything-Alive Girl and
Obnoxious Ame.rec.a Boy Red," WikiBoy
reported.

    "Well done, you beer-guzzling,
flag-waving, ill-educated mouth
breather," said Obnoxious Ame.rec.a Boy
Blue, as Obnoxious Ame.rec.a Boy Red
entered the chamber.

    "Glad to see ya too, ya French-
speakin', latte-swillin' godless
Communist cut-n-runner," Obnoxious
Ame.rec.a Boy Red said, shaking his
counterpart's hand.

    "We need more *@#$%^& options,"
Innovative-Offense Boy said, activating
the room's  monitor screen.  "Dr. Bad-
Bedside Manner, any luck with those *&^%$#!
robot duplicates of the Legion?"

    "See for yourself," Dr. Bad-Bedside
Manner said.  "We've had some trouble
with the DNA sequencing.  When we tried
to make a duplicate of Ultimate Ninja,
well..."

    The Legion's medical expert stepped
back to reveal what appeared to be an
enormous black-and-white panda wearing
a mask and carrying a pair of swords.

    "Rrrr?" Ultimate Panda bleated.

    "Try pouring some *@#$%^& hot water
on his head," Innovative-Offense Boy
advised.  He switched off the viewscreen,
striking the wall with his hand.

    "*&@#$%^!" he said.  "Well, at least
the building's *@#$%^& automatic
defenses ought to slow her down for a few
minutes."

    "You mean the ones that someone just
aged a year and two weeks -- the precise
amount of time before our defense systems
went out of warranty?" WikiBoy asked,
scanning a nearby computer display.

    "What the *&@#$%^?" Innovative-Offense
Boy said.  "Who the *&^%$# would make
technology that crapped out after only
one year of *&^%$#@ use?"

    He stared at the fruit-shaped symbol
on one of the chamber's iTurrets and
groaned.

    "She'll be here any minute," Ordinary
Lady said.  "I have to lead the fight
against her."

    "I know," Innovative-Offense Boy said.
"It's just... *&@#$%^^."

    "It's getting close to midnight,"
Ordinary Lady said, drawing closer.  "Let's
say goodbye now, just in case we don't see
each other again."

    "Never *@#$%^^ say that," Innovative-
Offense Boy said.  "No matter what happens,
no matter where you might go, I will
@#$%^&* find you.  If I have to @#$%^&* up
Heaven and Hell, if I have to tear my way
into the &*^%$#@ underworld, grab the devil
by the @#$%^&*, @#$%^&* his @#$$%^& and
@#$%^&* down his @$%^&*& throat..."

    "Come now, my fellow Legionnaires,"
Easily-Discovered Man said, quietly escorting
the other members of the team from the room.
"Let us give them this moment together..."

(Part II of LNH Comics Presents #54 follows)