[LNH] Onion Lad #6

cabbagewielder at yahoo.com cabbagewielder at yahoo.com
Sat Jul 16 03:30:21 PDT 2005



Ultimate Ninja and his three duplicates sat behind a large judge's
desk.   Vel sat in one of side of the isle and Onion Lad and Fred sat
on the other.   The one handed Ultimate Ninja waived his hand signaling
for the audience to stand.

	"Have you reached a decision?" The one handed Ultimate Ninja said.
	"Indeed I have," said Ultimate Ninja #2.
	"As have I," said Ultimate Ninja #3.
	"Then let us read the decision," the one handed Ninja said.  "We
find it fair and just-not only for the sake of galactic relations but
also for the sake of justice-- that Onion Lad's thievery case be
handed over to a Dorfan court.  The stolen time remote, which the
defendant admitted he took, was in a diplomatic safe.  As such, Dorfan
law-no matter how barbaric it may seem to us-- is sacrosanct,"
Ultimate Ninja said.

	Fred looked over to Onion Lad and gleamed.

	"Don't worry, I have one more trump card to play," Fred stated.
"Your honors,  I have a statement signed by Fearless Leader, Deja
Dude and Irony Man which questions the very illegitimacy of this
tribunal.   LNH constitution clearly states that all tribunals shall be
conducted by three members with level nine clearance or higher."
	"I have level ten clearance," the handless Ninja.
	"As do I," said Ultimate Ninja #2.  "As does Ultimate Ninja
#3."

	Fred sighed.

	"Your honors, the tribunal was designed to have three members so
there would be an exchange of ideas and opinions.  You are all the same
person so how can there be a fair extradition hearing if there isn't
even one dissenting opinion," Fred said.
	"Fine.  You may file for appeal.  Until then, the one week
servtitude sentenance begins immediately," the Handless Ninja said.

	Onion Lad began to cry.

	"But I can't work for Vel... he'll have me doing awful things.
Like cleaning out his guest quarters.  Or-or-- ," Onion Lad said.
	"Or telling me your real true secret origin... after the Doctor
I-Can't-Believe-It's-Not-Butter incident, I think our records are a
bit incomplete," Vel said.
	"Fine, fine..." Onion Lad whined.  "But it's so boring.  If
you want to hear it, I'll tell you."

	Onion Lad #6
	The Secret Origin of Onion Lad
	By Jesse N. Willey


	It all started long before I was born.  My dad was just getting his
start on the criminal circuit with high school buddy, Darius Non.   As
I sort of let on over the years, my dad was a petty crook.  (See Onion
Lad #1.)

	"You know, I'm going into the family business.   Your dad worked
with my dad on a few heists.  What are you doing after high school,"
my dad said.
	"Me?  I'm going to college.  Maybe become a physicist or
something.   Quantum Mechanics... or maybe molecular transmutation,"
Non said.  "That'll show all those jocks who mocked and called me
Nondiarius."
	"Man, are you crazy?   You want to go to school for eight-maybe
ten years--- to learn some fancy schmancy science stuff just to get
back at some punks you knew in high school.  This is your life we're
talking about... not some damned Charles Atlas ad from the back of
stinkin' comic book.    Why not just hire someone to bust'em in the
kneecaps," Dad asked.
	"You, my muscular acquaintance I tutored to keep the mildly more
intelligent but less muscular bruisers off my back, have a lot to learn
about the art of the Aristotelian tragedy.  Mainly theirs," Non said.
	"Aristoddler?  Didn't he eat Play Doh?" dad asked.
	"No... in an Aristotelian tragedy someone gets up to a high place in
the world... and then fails on account of their own vanity ," Non
said.  "Let them get on their NFL teams and join their high priced
country clubs.   I'll be there... plotting... waiting... and when the
time is right, I'll make them fall."

		________________________________

	Vel was walking down the hall.  Onion Lad was following a few steps
behind him. Finally, they pulled up to the lounge.    Vel walked to a
table with a computer terminal and took a seat.

	"Well, we all know how well that went.   That night they went out
and partied.  Both met some nice young women and had a double wedding
about ten months later.   They remained best friends and even lived
next door to each other," Onion Lad said.  (See Onion Lad #3-5)
	"And you know all this because..." Vel said.
	"It's the way my dad told me.... Inbetween forced dish
washings," Onion Lad said.
	"I see," Vel said.

	Vel tapped on his computer for a moment.

	"Whatcha doing?" Onion Lad asked.
	"I'm going to visit my dad.  So..." Vel said.  "Os or Nats
tickets?"
	"Huh?" Onion Lad said.
	"Don't you follow baseball?" Vel said.
	"Uh... only a little.  Watching it on TV stinks," Onion Lad said.
	"Agreed.  I love to watch at the stadium... and I'm the star left
fielder of the LNH's community charity league team," Vel said.
"My dad isn't far from either stadium..."
	"Oh umm... Orioles definitely.  Nicer seats.  Nicer food," Onion
Lad said.  "I would join your team, but y'know, it's just that
well.... you'll find out."

	________________________________

	There was a knock on the on the window.   To my teenaged mind it meant
only one thing.  Teri was asking for me to open it so she could fly in
and let me get to second.   Yeah, that was it.   So of course, I opened
the window.  She leapt off the gutter and knocked me to the floor and I
barely missed the Ninja Turtles sheets that had become scattered across
the floor.

	"Oh, sorry Chuck.   I didn't mean to scare you," she said.
	"I wasn't scared," I said.
	"Look... I just wanted to ask you.  Does your father ever..."
	"What?  What has your father been doing to you?" I asked.
	"Nothing.  Well, I think it's nothing..." she said.
	"Oh boy... we better call the cops," Onion Lad said.
	"No... no..." she said.  "He's just been asking me to help
test some of his experiments.  That's all.   Does your dad ever..."
	"Ask me to help him at work?" I said.  "He did once... but my
shoelaces came untied, I tripped and fell.  Then I dropped the bag with
all the money he took out of those parking meters."

	She frowned for a minute.  I wanted to tell her my secret.  But I
thought I'd save it till I got it under control a little better.

	"Okay," she said.  "Do you have your money?"

	I grabbed by wallet and my Bullwinkle lunchbox.

	"Yep... let's head to the circus," she said.

	And so we did.   We had a great time.  Until we ran into this freaky
woman in purple.  I think she was some sorta fortune teller or
something.   She was wearing a black and purple jump suit and wore this
weird domino mask with bright white eyes.

	"You!"  She shouted.  "You two shall suffer greatly in future.
You-young lady-will face a test which you have not studied for.
And you, young Fitzgerald, shall have the worst week of your life shall
begin with a baseball game."
(See Generation Zed: The New Class #10.)

	Suddenly, from behind us, a woman screamed.

	"Help!  Help!  A chimp has grabbed my baby!"

	That's when I knew I had to do something.  I had to put my
burgeoning telepathy to the test.  And maybe, just maybe, become a
hero.   Just like Filo T. Farnsworth.

	________________________________

	"Stop!" Fred yelled.
	"What?" Vel shouted.
	"I just heard back on the appeal.  Onion Lad, your case is going to
be reheard.  Until that time, your sentence is suspended," Fred
remarked.
	"Wahoo!" Onion Lad said.
	"But you were just getting to the good part of the story," Vel
said.
	"Sorry, I don't have to finished it," Onion Lad said.  "So
there.."
	"I'll give you five bucks," Vel said.
	"Six," Onion Lad said.
	"Five fifty.  Last offer," Vel said.
	"Done."

	________________________________

	The chimp waved the baby over his head.   An old woman and small child
were standing nearby carnival game.   He was just outside of my range.
I took a well timed step toward him.   I didn't know if it would
work.   And I knew if it didn't I had to be ready to run.

	"Oh god!  Why!" he shouted.  "Why am I doing this?  Oh god, oh
lord.   I throw yourself upon your mercy.   Please... please... forgive
me."

	God might have taken mercy on him.  I don't know.  The Carnie
running the booth sure didn't.   He had taken out a shot gun and
missed blasting the chimp in the kneecap and missed the baby too.

	"What did you do that for?" I asked.
	"Had to protect my costumers," he said as he turned back to the
kid.  "So, kid.  Want a free throw?  On the house."

 	The kid took a swing and knocked down the cans.  He handed the boy a
large plush camel.

	"What do you know... you can actually win at those," I said.
"I'll take five dollars worth of throws."

	He handed me fifteen softballs.  I turned around and threw the balls
at the chimp.   The first one missed entirely and wound up giving a
clown a black eye.  The second knocked the old lady over.   Finally,
after about four more missed throws and several more injured patrons I
caught the chimp.  The baby feel and I dove to catch it but wound up
scrapping my knee.  Teri leapt out and made the last minute save.

	"There-she's safe," Teri said.
	"There's only one thing I'm still wondering," I said.  "How
can a chimp talk?"

	The injured clown stood up.

	"That's no chimp," He said.  "That's my wife."


	________________________________

	Vel looked on with a shallow look on his face.

	"That's it?  You have got to be kidding me," he said.
	"No, it's all true.  Made the local Gazette and everything.
'Boy saves Baby from Monkey Woman'," Onion Lad said.
	"Are you sure that wasn't an issue of The Weekly World News?"
Vel asked.
	"It's the true... really," Onion Lad said.
	"Fine, fine," he said as he placed a five dollar bill and two
quarters on the table.  "I have to go meet Jen down at some Greek
restaurant.  The imfamous meeting.  The folks.  Then I'm catching my
flight to Balmer."
	"Eek!" Onion Lad said.
	"I want you to vacuum out the lobby while I'm gone," Vel said.
	"What?  But the case was..." Onion Lad said.
	"Just kidding," Vel said.

		The End

________________________________________________________
Onion Lad created by Tom Russell Jnr. and Dane Martin.   Fred is public
domain.
Ultimate Ninja created by wReam.  Teriyaki Chick and Monkey Woman
created by Jesse N. Willey.  This document is copyright Jesse N. Willey




More information about the racc mailing list