LNHY: Looniverse Y #1: Part II: Jumping Off on the Wrong Foot

Arspitzer arspitzer at aol.com
Sun Aug 1 17:23:02 PDT 2004

Part II


There's an island you won't find on any map.  There's an island that no 
spy satellite can see.  Most people don't know about it and if you were 
to tell them about it, they'd think you were as nutty as a walnut 

There's an island.

An island called If-I-Told-You-Where-It-Was-I'd-Have-To-Kill-You Island.

On this island you will find jungles filled with dinosaurs, sabertooth 
tigers, unicorns, phoenixes, and creatures you've never even heard of.  
Beneath the jungle lies a gigantic cavern created by some ancient alien 
race filled with amazing technology that you would have to see to 
believe.  And beneath that is a city filled with sentient gila monsters 
who worship a cartoon character named 'Geraldo Gila' and are waiting for 
the day 'Geraldo Gila' will return and help them enslave Planet T-Bone.  
And beneath that is a level that doesn't really have anything 
significant on it, but I'd thought I'd mention it anyways.  And beneath 

Beneath that is a bar.

A bar called the No-Such-Place Bar.

In this bar you'll find people who know who killed JFK.  Who know where 
Hoffa's body is buried.  Who know why there's an eye in the pyramid on 
the back of every one dollar bill.  Who know how many licks it takes to 
get to the center of a Tootsie Pop.  Every dark mystery that ever 
existed you can find someone in this bar who can tell you the answer.

In one corner is some guy who looks exactly like Tom Brokaw playing John 
Denver tunes on a piano.  The waitresses wear ear muffs and blindfolds 
as they serve drinks to the customers.  CIA and KGB Spooks, Men in 
Black, Trenchcoated Aliens cover the bar.  People even the most paranoid 
crazies wouldn't be insane enough to believe in drink cocktails.  Spoons 
lazily tap secret codes that no one can decipher.  And everyone listens 
to everyone because they want to know everything about everything.

And deep in another corner of the bar is a man that everyone refuses to 
look at and listen to.  Even the most ruthless seem to be afraid of this 
man.  Shadows cover his face in a way that obscures any hope of 
describing what he looks like.  He's a large man and that's all that can 
be said about that.  People don't know his name.  People don't want to 
know his name.  In a place where everyone wants to know everything, no 
one seems to want to know him.  They don't want to know his purpose.  
His secrets.  His agenda.  His dreams.

The only thing anyone knows about him is that he likes to drink Banana 
Daiquiris.  It's the only thing he ever drinks.  There's a rumor that he 
was a hero a long time ago and that he had the power to make Banana 
Daiquiris, but lost that power.  But it's just a rumor.  And you know 
how rumors are.

The people who are brave enough to call him anything, call him The 
Banana Daiquiri-Drinking Man.

And when you gaze into the abyss, the Banana Daiquiri-Drinking Man gazes 


The Banana Daiquiri-Drinking Man had company tonight.

"So, did your delivery of the briefcase go as planned?  You met Greef 
Graves?"  The BDD Man said in a low Orson Wellish voice to a man who 
usually had no time for questions.

"Umm, Greef Graves?"  The Mysterious Shadowy Messing-with-Destiny Dude's 
heart started to beat a little faster.  "Did you say Greef Graves?"

"Yes, Greef Graves.  Why is there something wrong?"

"Oh, it sounded like something else.  It sounded like, um, Greeve 
Gaines.  It must be the acoustics in this place."

"Why would I say Greeve Gaines?  You did get the briefcase to the right 
person?  Didn't you?"

"Oh, yes.  I sure did!  I gave it to Greef Graves.  Yep.  Greef Graves.  
That's who I gave it to."  MSMWD Dude started to drink straight from the 
scotch bottle.

"Good.  I'd perish to think of someone else who could be the Leader of 
LNH at this critical juncture.  Greef Graves might very well be the only 
person who could lead it.  How's he doing?"

"Oh we didn't have much time to talk."

"That sounds like Greef.  He's always on the move.  Going to oppressed 
lands and freeing them.  Righting wrongs.  It's why I wanted him to be 
the leader of the LNH.  He's a leader of leaders.  He's a man of vision 
who can make the blind see by just talking to them.  He's like some 
cross between Gandhi, Bruce Lee, Muhammad Ali, Elvis Presley, and 
Pocahontas.  I met him once.  A long time ago.  It was at this strip 
joint in Rio De Janeiro.  He was sitting right next to me.  We talked 
about religion, politics, and baseball.  I remember looking into his 
eyes and seeing hope for humanity.  I saw a humanity that could rise 
above its greed, its lies, its hatred.  A humanity that had the 
potential to be something glorious.  I saw that in his eyes."

"Yeah," the MSMWD Dude nodded in agreement.  "I saw that in his eyes 
too.  Although I thought he was drunk at the time."

"Drunk on hope.  I suppose.  Anyway, in the coming months, bad things 
are going to come.  Things so horrible that they even chill my bones.  
I'm not going to be here when these things come because I'm not sure if 
anyone can stop them even Greef Graves.  But I'll rest easier knowing 
that Greef Graves has the reigns of the LNH.  I hope he can save this 
Looniverse.  I was born here and spent most of my life here.  I'd hate 
to see this place destroyed."  The BDD Man paused a moment as if he was 
lost in a thought.  "But better it than me."

"And I hope he can survive because when it gets down to it I want to be 
the one that destroys him.  I want to be the one that crushes his 
utopian whimsies.  I want to squeeze every last drop of hope from his 
eyes.  I want to be the one who laughs at his face as he takes his final 
breath.  That's my dream."

"Sounds fun!  So what about the items you promised me?"

"Ah, yes.  You wanted these?"  The BDD Man pulled out a pouch from under 
the table.  He handed it to the MSMWD Dude.  "They're all there.  I hope 
they are satisfactory."

The MSMWD Dude opened the pouch up a little bit and took a peek.  They 
were spheres of some type and kind of looked like planets the size of 
marbles.  He closed the pouch quickly again.  "Oh yeah.  These look 
very, very satisfactory.  I guess this settles our business."

"Business is never settled, my mysterious shadowy friend.  But for the 
moment we're through.  I guess I should be going.  In a few days, 
Looniverse Y will become a very dangerous place.  You should probably 
think about leaving too."

"I've still got some business here.  But once that's finished, I'll 
probably be traveling to much safer waters."

"Well, I guess I should be off.  Wait!  Is that Britney Spears dancing 
naked on top of a table?" The BDD Man said pointing in the other 

The MSMWD Dude turned his head, but quickly realized that he had been 
hoodwinked.  There was no Britney Spears, naked or otherwise.  He looked 
back to find that the Banana Daiquiri-Drinking Man had completely 
vanished.  Why does he always do that?  Why can't he leave the bar like 
a normal person?

It didn't really matter. The MSMWD Dude took another swig from the 
scotch bottle.  Greef Graves.  Dammit.  He could have sworn that the BDD 
man had said Greeve Gaines.  Ah well.  It was to late to do anything 
now.  This guy Greeve Gaines.  He was some superhero.  Right?  They had 
similar sounding names.  Wasn't that good enough?  Maybe he wasn't in 
Greef Graves class.  But still.  He wasn't even sure if Greef Graves 
existed.  There was no evidence of him ever existing except the 
occasional blurry photograph.  Maybe the BDD Man was playing some kind 
of mind game.  Or maybe some cruel cosmic being had retconned his 
memory.  He shouldn't have taken this job.

What was the worst thing that could possibly happen?  Well, besides the 
BDD Man finding out he had screwed up and showing his displeasure.  He 
had time though before the BDD Man would find out.  With this pouch he 
could hide away in some far away alternate universe safe from the BDD 
Man and live like an emperor.  But was there anyplace safe from the BDD 

He had one last delivery to make in this Looniverse.  He picked up 
another briefcase that was by his chair.  He'd make damn sure that this 
got to the right person.  Damn sure.

The briefcase had an engraving that read, 'Property of the System 

He took another swig from the bottle.  Well, hopefully it would.


The Next Day...

Greeve Gaines (Not to be confused with Greef Graves) aka Kid Kicked-Out, 
the New Leader of the LNH, was going somewhere.  There was this guy he 
knew that was good at getting out of jams.  Maybe he could find some way 
out of this whole LNH mess.  As he made his way to the guy's place his 
cellphone started to ring.

~{I've had a relapse, Greeve.}~

"A relapse?  Barry?  Is that you?"

~{I was in traffic.  This guy cut me off.  And they just appeared in my 
head.  I couldn't help it.}~

"Wait?  Who appeared in your head?  Were they supervillains?  Did you 
create more supervillains?"  The person Kid K-O was talking to was Barry 
M. O'Roll, although he was better known across planet T-bone by his nom 
de guerre:  Master Root of All Evil.  He had the ability to cause a 
supervillain to exist by just thinking of one.  The thing was though, 
Barry M. O'Roll had reformed and the last supervillain he had created 
was over two years ago.

~{Their names are The Road Rager and Madam Middle Finger.}~

"Okay.  That doesn't sound too horrible.  A guy with road rage and a 
chick that likes to use her middle finger.  I think I can handle that.  
What street are they on?"

~{They're on Danehy-Oakes Avenue.  Look.  I don't think you 
undersxkrklkrlklrklrkkl...}~ The cellphone's connection died.

Kid K-O tried to redial the number, but he couldn't get back.  Oh, well.  
It didn't matter.  He was pretty close to Danehy-Oakes Avenue as it was.

He wondered how bad this relapse was.  Hopefully it was just a one time 
occurrence.  The last thing this world needed was the return of Master 
Root of All Evil.  He had in his prime created some of the evilest 
supervillains ever to exist in Looniverse Y.  And because of that people 
fairly or unfairly blamed him for ever single bad thing that had ever 
happened or will happen.  Everyone hated him.  Even supervillains.  Even 
the supervillains he created.  Especially them.

The irony was that he was kind of a meek mild-mannered guy.  Other than 
the nasty villains he created he wasn't much of a threat.  He wore this 
brown supervillain costume and had a utility belt with different types 
of roots.  He had carrots, radishes, tree roots, turnips, and whatever 
other kind of root there was.  He used them as weapons.  Back in the 
early days of Kid K-O's career they would run into each other quite 
frequently since MRoAE fought every superhero team there ever was and 
Kid K-O belonged to nearly every superhero group at one time or the 

One night a few years ago, Kid K-O heard someone knocking at his door.  
A meek wimpy knock, not the angry knocks that Kid K-O usually got.  When 
Kid K-O opened his door he was surprised to see MRoAE right behind it.  
MRoAE didn't look like someone who was about to cause major property 
damage.  He looked like someone sad and depressed about life.

'Look, I don't want to fight,' MRoAE said taking off his mask.  'My name 
is Barry M. O'Roll.  I know who you are, Kid Kicked-Out.  I know your 
name is Greeve Gaines.  I'm not going to black mail you or anything.  I 
don't know why I came here.  I just... I just had to talk to someone.  I 
have no friends, family, or anything.  I have nothing.  We could go to a 
bar.  I don't know.  I'll pay for the drinks.  This isn't some kind of 
homosexual pick-up or anything.  I'm totally straight.  I just need to 
talk to someone.  Please.  Just for a few minutes.  Please?'

Kid K-O accepted the offer.  Kid K-O had a hard time turning down 'free' 
anything, especially free booze.  They went to the bar unmasked and in 
there street clothes.  MRoAE told Kid K-O about how he hated being a 
supervillain.  He told of how fate had molded him into one.  His dad was 
a Satanic Televangelist.  And his mom was a Pantomime Instructor.  What 
choice did he have, but to become evil?

His birth mark was the word 'EVIL' spelled right on the back of his 
neck.  By the age of six, he had lost all of his hair.  By the age of 
ten, he had grown a goatee.  It seemed like every single force was 
pushing him to be evil.  The final straw was when he was in college.  He 
tried to get an orange soda from a vending machine.  But instead of an 
orange soda, a rootbeer came out.  And not any ordinary rootbeer.  This 
was The Rootbeer of All Evil.  And so he resigned himself to his fate 
and became Master Root of All Evil.  And he inflicted his menace on 
mankind for many years.

But he didn't want to be evil anymore.  He wanted a new life.  He wanted 
a change.  That's what he told Kid K-O in that bar.

After that meeting, they kept meeting every week or so.  They would 
shoot pool.  Hit on chicks.  Start bar fights.  Get kicked-out of 
places.  Eventually they became good friends.  It was a secret 
friendship though.  The world wouldn't approve of a superhero and 
supervillain being best friends.  And Barry M. O'Roll started going to 
Thought-Criminals Anonymous.  And ultimately, he had stopped thinking up 
supervillains and had been clean for over two years.  Up till now.

The sound of helicopters brought Kid Kicked-Out's mind back to the 
present.  They were heading towards Danehy-Oakes Avenue.

All the cars had pretty much ground to a halt.  And there was this 
horribly loud honking sound.  He was close to Danehy-Oakes Avenue.

And then he saw it.  It was a gigantic SUV so big that it was in all 
eight lanes as well as on the sidewalk.  Various wrecked and burning 
cars made a circle around it.  The SUV had some cute gigantic bumper 
stickers on it.  For Example:  'More Blood for Oil' and 'Honk if you 
want your car to burn'.  In the monstrous SUV were two giants.  A male 
and a female.

The female stuck her chest out the window and waved both middle fingers 
while shouting a bunch of obscenities at the people on the street.  Her 
male companion had one hand slamming the horn which was so loud that it 
shattered peoples windows.  The other hand held a gun the size of a tank 
that he used to blast the hell out of any car that got too close.  He 
also appeared to be giving motorists critiques on their driving 

SPEED LIMIT'S 35MPH!!!!!  USE YOUR @#$@#$#@ GAS PEDAL!!!!!"


MR. NICE GUY!!!!!"

The Road Rager occasionally would take a break from his shooting spree 
to look at his watch, "AAARRRGHGHGHHH!!!!  I'M GOING TO MISS 'WALKER: 

Christ, Barry.  You've really done it this time.  Kid Kicked-Out wasn't 
sure what he could do here if anything.  There didn't seem to be any way 
to use his kicked-out powers.  He was invulnerable, but he really hated 
pain.  He couldn't take stubbing his toe much less being shot at by some 
car cremating weapon.  And there was always the possibility that this 
would be the one weapon that could actually hurt him.  Maybe his best 
bet would be to find an 'observing' place safe from harm so he could 
'observe' the events and come up with some brilliant strategy.  Or so he 
could wait for other heroes to come and when it looked like they might 
have the upper hand charge in to join the victory.  Yeah!  That sounds 
like a plan!

With that Kid K-O edged quietly back from the Traffic Armageddon in 
search for an 'observing' place to hide... err I mean 'observe'.  But 
before he could do that the Road Rager's eyes spotted him.


The Road Rager aimed his Traffic Management Gun straight at Kid Kicked-
Out and prepared to fire.  Kid K-O went, "Ulp!"

But before the Road Rager could fire a loud obnoxious beep came from Kid 
K-O's briefcase.

<:*BEEP* *BEEP*  Hey!  People!  I'm beeping!  I'm detecting a new member 
of the LNH! *BEEP* *BEEP*  It's no use ignoring me!  I'll just start 
beeping louder!  **BEEP** **BEEP**:> beeped the New LNH Member Detector.


NEXT TIME:  Will that Drunken Screw-up The Mysterious Shadowy Messing-
with-Destiny Dude get the System's Corrupters briefcase to the right 
person?  What do you suppose those LNHQ Pills taste like?  Did the Road 
Rager have a bad childhood?  Is the Banana Daiquiri-Drinking Man some 
corrupt alternate universe version of Cheesecake Eater Lad?  How loud 
can the New LNH Member Detector beep?? Will No-Duh! Soda ever achieve 
the popularity of Mr. Paprika??  Will there be a Looniverse Y #2??

All these questions (or none of them) will be answered next time by 
someone who is not me!!!

(That's your cue:  Some writer who is not me!)


Writer's Notes:

If you want to write the next issue, you should probably read the LNHY 
NAQ (Never Asked Questions) first.  It will tell you everything you need 
to know.  If you don't see it, e-mail me and I'll send you a copy.

Arthur "Kicking Off" Spitzer

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