LNH/NTB: Beige Midnight #10: PLANET MUHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHH!!!!!!!!!! III: "Absolute Mite" (1/4)
Arthur Spitzer
arspitzer at earthlink.net
Sat Mar 3 14:46:37 PST 2012
[Cover: Occultism Kid; wielding the Insanity Gauntlet, Ring of Retcon,
and Cosmic Plot device; sits on a throne made of albino porcupines.
Standing on each side of him are Mynabird and Easily-Discovered Man
Lite. Both of them are dressed in lobster outfits and both pour maple
syrup on Occultism Kid's crown made up of 58.5 grilled cheese crisps.
Occultism Kid looks straight at the reader with an insane gleam in his
eyes and cackles madly a speech balloon that reads,
'Muhahahahhahahahahahahhah!!!!!!!" On the bottom of the page is bold
text that reads, 'Absolute Mite!']
Easily-Discovered Man Lite. Easily-Discovered Bran Mite. Two titans of
the online world, locked in a feud that has spanned decades (even if
only one of the pair is actually aware of it). What will happen when
the unstoppable farce meets the immovable objector? We have no idea,
but it surely won't be any of these...
TOP TEN POSSIBLE FINAL CONFRONTATIONS BETWEEN
EASILY-DISCOVERED MAN LITE AND THE EASILY-
DISCOVERED BRAN MITE
10. THE HOLLYWOOD ENDING:
Bruised, battered, his eyes swollen shut from multiple beatings,
Easily-Discovered Man Lite reeled as the Easily-Discovered Bran Mite
gloated in triumph.
"Had enough, Lite?" the Mite cackled.
"Do not give up, Lite!" shouted the sidekick's aged mentor,
Easily-Discovered Man. "Remember... you need only look within yourself
for the strength to prevail!"
"You can take 'em, Lite!" cried the breathtaking Cynical Lass.
"And by the way, I'm carrying your baby!"
"Hit 'em one for me, Lite!" called Lite's ragamuffin sidekick, the
blind, one-legged Depression-era newsboy Easily-Discovered Man Lite, Junior.
"Can't... fight... any... longer," Lite gasped, his feet splaying
beneath him. "Shouldn't... have... stayed... up... playing... Arkham
City... last night..."
"Good-bye, Lite," the Mite sneered, targeting the staggering hero
with a wicked-looking his weapon.
"Nooooo!" Cynical Lass screamed, as Lite finally gave in to his
pain. He fell... crushing his tiny foe beneath him in the process.
The soundtrack soared. Fireworks sparkled overhead. A young
nurse and a World War II-era sailor embraced in the street.
"He did it!" Cynical Lass cheered. "He did it!"
"What?" Easily-Discovered Man Lite, Junior asked, as a trio of jets
roared overhead. "Who did what? Somebody want to tell me what the
*@#$%^&? just happened?"
9. THE HOLLYWOOD ENDING (MICHAEL BAY VERSION):
"So... you've wanted to kill me for 20 years?" asked Lite, the
sunlight glinting on his mirrored sunglasses.
"Twenty years," the Easily-Discovered Bran Mite said. "Two years
to construct my impregnable Mynabird armor... and twelve years to
sequence, clone and grow an Allosaurus!"
"Holy mother of @#$%^&!" Lite said, as the thirty-foot carnosaur
in question burst from a trapdoor beneath the stage, tossed his mighty
head in the air, and roared.
In the distance, a trio of attractive women began to gyrate in
time to a Metallica song.
"Then another two years to build this giant, transforming mecha,"
Mite crowed, as a vast, heavily-armed, thoroughly impractical two-legged
mechanoid stomped its way through the chamber.
"And another two years to train the Allosaurus to operate the
mecha," the Mite said, as the multi-ton meat-eater leaped into the
cockpit of the machine, its roar muffled as the glass casing snapped
shut around it.
"That's only 18 years," Lite pointed out.
"Allosauruses are notoriously difficult to housebreak," the Mite
said, as the mighty theropod hung its head in shame. "But no matter!
For now... now, at long last, I will utterly destroy you!"
"Yeah. About that," Lite said, twisting a button on his belt, as
the pounding soundtrack rose in volume. "You really should have gone
with training Deinonychii. For one thing, they're a lot more
intelligent, and easier to train. For another..."
Lite's hair rippled in the wind, as several brightly-colored
vehicles -- a tank, a hovercraft, a jet, a helicopter and a
shuttlecraft, each piloted by one of the hissing dromaeosaurs -- burst
and blasted their way into the chamber, causing much of the furniture to
explode.
"...they're pack animals, which makes them really good at
coordinating their efforts," Lite continued, as the five
dinosaur-piloted vehicles linked together, becoming the arms, legs,
torso and head of a rainbow-colored robot.
"So be it," the Mite said, his words all but drowned out by a
crescendo of Metallica as the two dinosaur-driven machines rushed at
each other in a visual spectacle that would be all but incomprehensible
to any audience that lacked the ability to watch it in slow-motion.
"FOR SPARTAAAAAA!"
"Whatever," Lite said, walking out through one of the jagged,
robot-created holes in the chamber wall.
8. THE HOLLYWOOD ENDING (ANG LEE VERSION):
"So you've really pursued me for twenty years?" Easily-Discovered
Man Lite asked.
"I had to," the Easily-Discovered Bran Mite confessed, the late
afternoon sun illuminating every detail of his finely-muscled thorax.
"From the moment I first saw you, I..."
"Yes?" Lite asked, drawing closer.
"Damn it!" the Mite shouted, pounding two of his fists into the
chamber wall and turning away for a moment. When at last he returned
his gaze to Lite, all eight of his eyes were rimmed with tears.
"I wish I could quit you," he whispered, as the two embraced
passionately.
7. THE BOLLYWOOD ENDING:
"So you've been pursuing me for twenty years?" Easily-Discovered
Man Lite asked. "And you managed to steal away from me the girl I've
secretly loved since boyhood, although I've never been able to confess
my feelings to her, for no particularly good reason?"
"Yes," the Easily-Discovered Bran Mite said. "But it was all the
result of a wacky misunderstanding."
"Well, that's that then," Lite said, picking up a tambourine.
"Nothing left to do, but... DANCE!"
Lite, the Mite, and the other members of the cast -- including
some members of the LNH and several of Mite's minions apparently killed
in the previous battle and a group of bare-midriffed bhangra dancers who
appeared out of nowhere -- immediately began an
elaborately-choreographed dance number, with the high, thin voice of the
Easily-Discovered Bran Mite soaring over the soundtrack...
6. THE DAVID CHASE ENDING:
"Here's something I've never understood," Easily-Discovered Man
Lite said, looking up from his pasta primavera as Journey's "Don't Stop
Believin'" began to play on the restaurant's jukebox.
"The song says 'Some will win. Some will lose. Some are going to
sing the blues,' " Lite continued, twirling his fork in the plate of
pasta. "But that seems unnecessarily redundant. Wouldn't the people
singing the blues be, of necessity, the losers? Or is the song trying
to say that by choosing to sing the blues, they -- despite having
experienced a loss -- cease to become losers, thanks to the
transformative power of art?"
The door to the restaurant opened. Lite looked up.
The scene faded to black.
5. THE JOSS WHEDON ENDING:
"I just realized something," said Cynical Lass. "I'm a human
being, and you're a... well, something like a bug. I just have to step
on you, and then all the buggy goodness inside of you will come oozing
out, and I can go back to doing whatever it was I was doing before you
started threatening my life."
"Hold on," said the Easily-Discovered Bran Mite, making a "time
out" sign with two of its tiny legs. "Where is Easily-Discovered Man
Lite? The whole point of this showdown -- indeed, the whole point of
the last two decades of my life -- is to give me a chance to destroy my
most hated foe."
"I told Lite to hit the showers," Cynical Lass said, putting her
hands on her hips. "What this scene needs is the presence of a strong,
powerful female character -- or at least a male comic book fan's fantasy
of what a strong, powerful female character would be like."
"Fair enough," the Mite said.
"And now to commence with the squooshing," Cynical Lass said,
raising her boot.
"Hold on," the Mite said. "Why is it that I'm the antagonist in
all of these endings? Easily-Discovered Man Lite destroyed my
girlfriend, my children, and my civilization -- and even if you want to
argue that he's ignorant of having committed those crimes, surely his
reckless disregard for the lives of others has to be taken into account?"
Cynical Lass wavered, her foot hanging in the air.
"And besides," the Mite said, "I'm part of the 99 percent."
"Ninety-nine percent of what?" Cynical Lass asked.
"Of the things that live on the human body," the Mite said. "Lite
is supposed to be our host... but has he ever offered us a welcome
reception? A Christmas card? Even a form letter would show some
consideration."
"Now that you mention it," she said, "he never even offered to
give me a cut of the bonus check he's receiving for appearing in this
series of ending scenes. He really is kind of selfish, isn't he..."
BLAM! BLAM!
"Hah!" said Neil Patrick Harris, emerging from a nearby shrubbery
with a smoking pistol in each hand. He returned the weapons to holsters
on either side of his waist, stared down at the fallen bodies of the
Easily-Discovered Bran Mite and Cynical Lass, and began to sing.
"I shot you both dead! Yes, I shot you both dead!
You thought you'd kill each other, but I blasted
you instead!
I used all my cunning
You never saw it coming
I pulled out my pistols and filled you with lead
Yes, I shot you both deaaaaad!"
4. THE GI.I. JOE ENDING:
"And now," the Easily-Discovered Bran Mite said, "at long last,
Lite... I will have my revenge!"
"Hold on!" said a tall, bearded man in a sailor's outfit, a green
parrot perched on his shoulder.
"It's Shipwreck(TM)" cried Easily-Discovered Man Lite and the
Easily-Discovered Bran Mite simultaneously.
"Kids, having a vendetta is appropriate if you're a member of an
organized crime family, a character in a Shaw Brothers martial arts
film, or a member of the Republican Party," the sailor began.
"Rawk! GOP," the parrot added.
"But a blood feud is a very, very serious thing -- and should only
be entered into for the most important reasons, like if your best friend
shacks up with the love of your life the minute you get your orders to
ship out."
"Rawk! Bust a cap in his ass," the parrot said.
"Now I know," the Bran Mite said.
"And knowing is half the... Waitaminute," Lite said. "What's a
member of America's top-secret special missions anti-terrorist forces
doing handing out life lessons to children, instead of fighting in Iraq
or Afghanistan?"
"Rawk! 'Don't ask, don't tell' is a bitch," the parrot said.
"You be quiet, Polly," the sailor grumbled.
"And what kind of name is 'Shipwreck' for an elite sailor?" the
Bran Mite asked. "That's like calling America's top astronaut 'The
Challenger.' "
"Ouch. Too soon," Lite said.
"Too soon? Are you serious? It's been more than twenty-five
years since..." the Mite began.
BLAM! BLAM!
"Hah! Didn't expect to see me again, did you?" said Neil Patrick
Harris, as Lite and Mite toppled to the ground.
"Thanks," Shipwreck began, before Neil Patrick Harris fired again.
The sailor crumpled to the floor.
"Bet you didn't expect that, either? Yeah!" the actor said.
"LNH-20 universe need a new Pointless Death Man? I'm the guy. You with
me, Polly?"
"Rawk!" the parrot said, settling onto Neil Patrick Harris'
shoulder and making a "V" with one wing. "Peace out, mother*@#$%^ers."
3. THE BRYAN LEE O'MALLEY ENDING:
"And now, Easily-Discovered Man Lite, I... Wait! What the hell is
that?" the Easily-Discovered Bran Mite asked.
"You mean the fact that both of our features look distorted and
googly, like we were guest-starring in an episode of 'Teen Titans?' "
Lite asked.
"No. I took that as an attempt to curry favor with a younger,
manga-reading fan base," the Mite said. "I mean the red line and row of
cartoon hearts that appeared over your head the minute I threatened you."
"Hey! You've got one too!" Lite said. "I think it's supposed to
look like the health meter that would show up in boss rounds during
those old-school video games from the 1990s."
"Seriously?" the Mite asked, craning his thorax upward to look at
the line of hearts above his head. "So the target demographic for this
ending is people who are young enough to read and appreciate manga and
anime, but old enough to remember playing 8-bit games? Exactly how many
people do they think are in hat particular audience?"
"About as many as want to read a heartwarming romance in which the
hero cheats on his girlfriend," muttered a young Asian girl, strolling
past the two deadly foes.
"This blows," Lite said. "Harris, why don't you come out here and
end this right now?"
"Man," said Neil Patrick Harris, his long face grown even longer
as he emerged from the bushes. "It's no fun if you guys expect it."
2. THE GRANT MORRISON ENDING:
"At last I have you dead to rights, Easily-Discovered Man Lite,"
the Easily-Discovered Bran Mite said.
"So it would appear," Lite said, his hands jammed into the pocket
of his hooded sweatshirt. "But there's something you hadn't considered."
"You mean the fact that none of this is real? That we're living
in a fictional universe?" the Bran Mite said. "Or perhaps that you had
anticipated my super-secret plan ... and having done so, created an even
more secret and elaborate plan to defeat me? Or that the words that
we're speaking, even now, are all part of an ancient Aztec spell
designed to bring the products of our imagination to life?"
"Yes. And no," Lite said. "You see, I counted on you knowing all
of that... just as I counted on you knowing that I am no mere sidekick,
but the avatar of a universal force linking all of those things that are
easily-discovered. Including you."
"Naturally," the Bran Mite said, fanning his face with a copy of
the Mid.Net Star in a subtle yet pointed reference to his first
appearance in an obscure comic more than two decades ago.
"But what you didn't expect... was that I was not
Easily-Discovered Man Lite at all, but actually... Easily-Discovered
Man!" the boy declared, removing a lifelike latex mask to reveal the
wrinkled, yet glowing face of the net.hero.
"Ingenious!" the Mite said. "And yet, I too have a secret, old
man. I knew that you could not possibly be Easily-Discovered Man
Lite... because I AM!"
"Truly this is a web of deception like none other," said
Easily-Discovered Man, as he faced his sidekick. "And that web extends
further than you know, Lite. For know that I am not Easily-Discovered
Man after all... but in reality," he added, tearing a second mask aside,
"Legion of Net.Heroes author Arthur Spitzer!"
"So your 'death' at the hands of the Beige Clock Tower was merely
a ruse!" Lite said, reaching up to remove his own mask. "Of course, _I_
knew that... for I am, in reality, Saxon Brenton... the LNH author who
established 'Arthur Spitzer' as a pen name!"
"Only one person could know that," said 'Arthur Spitzer,' using a
rag to remove the make-up from his face. "And that's the young boy in
whose imagination not only the Legion of Net.Heroes, but
rec.arts.comics.creative, the Usenet and even the Internet itself
exists... Andrew Perron!"
"Of course I knew that," said the false Saxon Brenton, switching
off the hologram watch he wore at his wrist. "For I, too, am Andrew
Perron!"
"We are all Andrew Perron!" said every other member of the cast,
dropping their own disguises... and turning to stare directly at the
reader...
1. THE ENDING THE AUTHOR THOUGHT WAS QUITE WITTY AND
AMUSING AT 2 A.M. EARLIER THIS WEEK, BUT NOW WONDERS
IF IT SHOULD BE INCLUDED AT ALL:
"And so here we are at last, Easily-Discovered Man Lite," intoned
the Easily-Discovered Bran Mite, who had donned his best velvet jacket
and bow tie for the occasion. "As you can see, I've captured everyone
who might possibly rescue you at the last second -- Easily-Discovered
Man, Cynical Lass, even Neil Patrick Harris -- and placed them in a cage
that even now sways above a pit filled with molten asparagus and
man-eating African horseflies."
"You fiend!" Easily-Discovered Man shouted.
"Horseflies? Seriously?" Cynical Lass asked. "Was it that hard
to come by a tank filled with piranha? Is that really so much to ask?"
"Molten asparagus was not in the contract," Neil Patrick Harris
said. "This is starting to look like a really bad career move."
"But I'm going to give you a chance, Lite. The chance you never
gave my girlfriend... or my children... or any of my people. The chance
to save the ones you love."
"I'm actually kind of lukewarm on Neil Patrick Harris," Lite said.
"He did shoot me in one of these endings, after all. Although I liked
him in 'Stark Raving Mad,' so I guess that makes up for it."
"Before you stands a microphone. A stage. And three judges who
will determine your fate," the Mite said, as a spotlight illuminated
three faces in the dark. "May I present acerbic British reality show
host Simon Cowell, magazine editor Anna Wintour -- who as you know, has
no sense of humor..."
"I had it surgically removed," Wintour explained. "Along with my
sweat glands."
"...and television's Crow T. Robot," the Mite finished.
"What is all this?" Cowell asked. "I'm really terribly busy, and
only took this interview because I was told I would be served a dish of
lemon cake."
"The cake is a LIE!" Crow shouted.
"Here then, is your task, Easily-Discovered Man Lite," the Mite
said. "You may tell one -- and only one -- ninja joke. If all three of
our judges are sufficiently amused, you and your friends may live. For
every judge that doesn't laugh... one of your friends will be fed to the
flies!"
"What if it's clear to everyone that they're laughing on the
inside?" Lite asked.
"Enough!" the Mite said. "You may have been able to laugh your
way out of danger before, Lite, but this time... the last laugh will be..."
"Yours?" Lite suggested.
"No! The flies! The smell of molten asparagus makes them higher
than the audience at a Phish concert! Now... make your joke,
Easily-Discovered Man Lite."
"Cover your ears," Cynical Lass whispered, as Lite approached the
microphone.
"Are you kidding? This might be the last joke I ever hear," Neil
Patrick Harris said.
"Do as the girl says, fellow captive," Easily-Discovered Man said.
"I know my sidekick, and that look in his eye can mean only one thing."
"Is this thing on?" Lite asked, tapping the microphone. "Okay.
So this family of ninjas walks into a talent agency..."
Seventeen minutes later...
"...And so the agent says, 'What in the world do you call that
particular method of assasination?' And the head of the ninja clan
says, 'The Aristocrats!' "
Lite looked over at his audience. Simon Cowell had torn the
cushion loose from his seat and used it to smother himself to death.
Anna Wintour's face had melted, in a manner not dissimilar to that of
the Nazis in "Raiders of the Lost Ark," leaving behind only a skeleton
with impeccable bone structure.
Crow, however, was cheering and applauding wildly.
"That was the most disgusting thing I've ever heard in my entire
life!" the robot said. "I want more! MORE!"
"No! It can't end like this!" the Mite screamed. "You may have
saved yourself, sidekick... but you've doomed your friends!"
The tiny, glowing arachnid punched a series of buttons on the
podium in front of him, causing the floor of the cage holding his
prisoners to open. Just as they began to fall, however,
Easily-Discovered Man Lite whipped his microphone at the cage. The
instrument caught in the cage bars, and Cynical Lass, Easily-Discovered
Man and Neil Patrick Harris slid down the microphone cord to safety.
"Knew I should have paid the extra $15 for the wireless mic. I...
NOOOOOOO!" the Mite screamed, as Neil Patrick Harris slipped on his way
down the microphone cord, falling on top of the hapless
Easily-Discovered Bran Mite.
"I... I think I may have just squashed your arch-nemesis," the
actor said, rubbing his hindquarters.
"I'd say he was more your nemesis than Lite's," said Cynical Lass.
"After all, you killed him three times today."
"In reality, 'twas his own misplaced sense of anger, his need for
venegance, that killed him," Easily-Discovered Man said.
"No," said Lite, removing his baseball cap and holding it over his
heart as he bent down to examine the remains of his fallen foe. "No,
Prof, it wasn't venegance. And it certainly wasn't me that killed him.
It was booty -- specifically Neil Patrick Harris' booty -- that killed
the beast."
(And now for the actual conclusion...)
**** <<--BM-->> ****
The place -- Inside the Insanity Gauntlet
The time --
B E I G E
M I D N I G H T
The number -- T E N
The Writers -- Arthur Spitzer and Rob Rogers
**** <<--BM-->> ****
April 2008 --
The Insanity Gauntlet --
Occultism Kid struggled with the straight jacket he found himself
strapped onto him. "What have you done, Bart?" he said glaring at Bart
the Dark Receptionist who was here with him in this place. A place that
looked like a mental institution.
"Done?" laughed Bart. "Not sure what you're talking about, OK."
"The Straight Jacket!" growled Occultism Kid. "How did you trap me here?"
"Straight Jacket?" Bart gave a shrug. "I don't see a straight jacket.
And this talk about trapping you -- that sounds like paranoid talk.
Are you sure you're all right?"
Occultism Kid looked down. The Straight Jacket was gone. His arms were
free. "What did you do to me? How did I get here?"
"I suppose I could answer those questions," said Bart. "But I don't
feel like it. I'd rather watch some TV. How about you? Want to watch
some TV? Let's do that." A remote control appeared in Bart's hand and
he pointed it at the TV close to the ceiling.
"Ah," said Bart as he began flipping through the channels. "Here's my
favorite show. It's about this occultist type guy who's casting some
spell with a bunch of trenchcoater type dudes. Anyway, he gets sucked
into some sparkly glove type thingee and every episode after that
involves all of the trenchcoater dudes surrounding the pentagram waiting
for him to somehow escape. It never happens though. He just sort of
stays stuck in the glove. Actually, now that I think about it -- it
really sounds kind of boring. Let's look at what else is on, shall we?"
Bart continued to flip through the channels.
"What's this?" said Bart pausing his clicking. Occultism Kid looked at
the TV screen. It was Fearless Leader sitting in a chair with a pained
expression just staring at a comatose Ripping Dancer. Fearless Leader
buried his head into his hands. "Some Soap Opera, I guess. Too
melodramatic for my tastes." Bart continued to click.
"Ah, this -- this looks good," said Bart stopping again. It was
Mynabird just mowing down superheroes that were in his way. Nothing
could stop him. He just kept getting closer and closer to the camera.
And finally one of his big metal hands grabbed the lens. And then
static and snow filled the TV screen.
Bart smiled. "Let's watch this."
**** <<--BM-->> ****
PLANET MUHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHH!!!!!!!!!!
PART III
'Absolute Mite'
**** <<--BM-->> ****
"...We've got to get him out of there!" said Kid Anarky.
The Dvandom Stranger shook his head. "We must continue the spell. We
must not break the circle. If we do then all is lost. It is up to
Occultism Kid and Occultism Kid alone to break free of the Insanity
Gauntlet. All we can do is wait."
"And if he doesn't break free?" asked Kid Anarky.
The Dvandom Stranger didn't answer. And then the TV screen went back to
snow.
"Boy, there sure is lousy reception here," said Bart shaking his head
and clicking the TV off.
"How did I get here, Bart?" said Occultism Kid. "What did you do to
trap me into the Gauntlet?"
"What did I do?" said a puzzled Bart. "You're not making any sense, OK.
That's just a TV show. It's not real. You're beginning to sound a
little crazy."
"I'm not in the mood for playing games, Bart. Just tell me where I am."
"Where you are? You're in a Sane Asylum."
"A Sane Asylum?"
"Yep. It's where they send people when they're just a little too sane.
Everyone locked in here is completely sane.
"Yeah? How about that guy dressed up as Napoleon?" said Occultism Kid
looking at his fellow inmates.
"Well, that's because he's the real Napoleon. And over there is the
real Abraham Lincoln. And over there? The real Jesus Christ. There's
God. Hitler. Satan. Joan of Arc. Gandhi. Elvis. Santa Claus. Yep.
They're all here. And all completely 100% sane."
Occultism Kid shook his head. "This is all completely mad. And you run
this place, I take it?"
"No," said Bart. "Because I'm sane. No. It's the loonies that run
this place."
"Well, that makes sense," said Occultism Kid rolling his eyes. "And who
are these loonies? Can I speak to them?"
"Oh, eventually you'll be taken to them. Everyone here has to see them.
You see they're doctors. Doctors who think they are us. I have to go
to weekly sessions with a completely insane doctor who thinks he's me.
He calls himself Dr. Bart the Dark Receptionist. Insane, isn't it?"
Occultism Kid looked around him. He had to get out of here. "How big
is this place?"
"Oh, about the size of the Loonited States, I suppose."
"You're joking. Right?"
"Nope. I mean 58 and a half years ago, it was just this little Sane
Asylum. But it believed in itself. It believed it could do anything.
And so it grew. And it grew. And now it's the size of the Loonited
States. But it will keep growing and growing. And when it devours the
world, it will keep going into space and devour other worlds. And solar
systems. And galaxies. And keep growing until the entire Looniverse is
inside it. And then I imagine it will start invading into other
Multiverses and so on and so on."
And then Occultism Kid's vision became blurry and he could feel his head
becoming light. No. Feel drugged. Got to -- got to stay...
**** <<--BM-->> ****
Occultism Kid opened his eyes. He was in some room. He was sitting in
a chair and bound in a straight jacket. On the other side of the table
was a man in a doctor's coat reading some papers from a folder. "Ah,
good. You're awake. I'm your doctor. Dr. Occultism Kid. I'll be
handling your treatment."
Occultism Kid laughed. "Dr. Occultism Kid, huh? And that makes me -- who?"
The doctor looked at the folder. "Your name is Dick Hey."
"Dekay?"
"Richard August Hey."
"Oh, right. And why am I here?"
"You had a complete breakdown in 2007. Back in September of 2001, you
wrote some story that ended this amateur fanfiction type universe you
and few others had created. Something called -- I believe the 'Teenage
Disco Vampire Barbershop Quartet Net.Force Universe' if I'm correct.
You had some ambition to be a professional writer, but everything you
submitted to publishers was rejected. This made you very depressed.
You were a college dropout with a minimum wage job and your greatest
dream was to be a writer. But you were a failure in that. And so in
April of 2007 you attempted suicide. It was unsuccessful, but after the
attempt you started to believe that the Beige Clock Tower that you had
used to end the life of the 'Teenage Disco Vampire Barbershop Quartet
Net.Force Universe' was actually real. And it was going to rise in our
world and unleash two horrible monsters that would destroy our world.
And you began to create this fiction in your head and made it your
reality. In this fiction, you were not a failed writer by the name of
Dick Hey. You were a hero called Occultism Kid and you were part of
this gigantic group of superheroes called the Legion of Net.Heroes. And
you were going to save us all from this threat. Members of your own
family became concerned by your behavior and brought you here for therapy."
Occultism Kid thought about this. Need to keep a level head. Can't act
insane or they'll just keep me here. Got to go with the story. Just
need to pretend. "Well, looks like it worked, Doc. I feel completely
sane. I guess I was confused for a bit, but now I know I'm Dick Hey not
Occultism Kid. The Beige Clock Tower and LNH don't exist, I know this
now. You can let me out of this straight jacket and release me. I'm
fine. Totally fine. You've made me a sane man again." Occultism Kid
looked straight into the doctor's eyes. "You can let me go."
The doctor frowned. "I'd like to believe that. I'd really like to
believe that, but -- I have a feeling that you're just telling me what I
want to hear and not what you actually believe."
Well, that didn't work. Occultism Kid struggled with his straight
jacket. It wasn't doing any good. Need to calm down. And think this
through. "So I'm stuck here, huh? It doesn't matter if you actually
cure me because you'll just think I'm pretending. Is that how it is?"
The doctor shook his head. "This is not a prison, Richard. We're here
to cure you. And when you're cured, we will release you. But only when
you become free of these delusions. Totally free. This is for your own
good."
"Right. And how do you know I'm the one who is deluded and not you?
Dr. Occultism Kid? What kind of a name is that for a person to have?
Did your parents just decide to give you the stupidest name possible or
did you change your name to that?"
"There is no need to make fun of my name. And yes, my parents gave me
this name. My parents were rather bohemian. Occultism Rasputin Kid is
on my birth certificate and numerous other documents. Where is your
proof that your name is actually Occultism Kid?"
Well, thought Occultism Kid, it wasn't actually his real legal name.
And there was probably no point in revealing his real name since it
would give what ever was doing this more power over him. Got to think.
He was wearing the Ring and Gauntlet when he got sucked down here. He
must still have them. Just can't see them. Got to focus on them.
Access their power.
And then Occultism Kid could feel them. And there was a flash.
**** <<--BM-->> ****
End of Part I
Tomorrow: Part II!
Arthur "Death to Beige Midnight" Spitzer
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