LNH/ACRA: Pigs in Time # 1: Big Mummy's House

Tom Russell milos_parker at yahoo.com
Fri Apr 28 07:26:24 PDT 2006


   Doctor Vincent Stomper walked into the Ultimate
Ninja's office.  "I need to test one of my new
   "What is it?"
   "I call it... the time-cycle!"
   "That's great, but what is it?"
   "It's a modified Harley Davidson motorcycle with a
sidecar.  You just set the time and place you want to
travel and then you start the cycle.  When the cycle
exceeds eighty-five miles per hour, the passengers are
sent to that time and place."
   "Incredible!" said the Ninja.
   "But it is untested; this is all assuming it works.
 For all I know, it could blow up, killing the
   "Really?  Hmm... I think I can find a couple of...
volunteers for you..."

   "This is a real honour!" said Master Blaster,
   Sarcastic Lad took his friend aside.  "I don't know
about this, Rob.  It smells fishy."
   Master Blaster sniffed.  "No, that'll be me. 
wReanna was feeling a little frisky."
   "Gah!" said the caustic crusader.  "That's not what
I meant! Why would the Ninja want to do us any favours
after we..."
   The duo froze as they felt a hand on their
respective shoulders.  The Ninja smiled at them
warmly.  "Any problems, gentlemen?"
   "I was just telling my buddy Sarc here that I'm
sure you've forgotten all about the... you know. 
Great leaders don't dwell on the past."
   "Of course not," said the Ninja.  "No, no, no.  All
is forgiven."
   "See?" said Master Blaster enthusiastically.
   Sarc was still not convinced.  "Why do you need two
of us, anyway?"
   "That's simple," said Stomper.  "Time-travel can be
a very dangerous thing; it puts a lot of power in the
time-traveler's hands."
   "That explains all the rogue Time Lords," said
   "To prevent the absolute corruption that such
absolute power gives a person," explained Stomper
further, "I built the sidecar as a fail-safe.  The
time-cycle won't start without two riders.  One person
will always be there to... keep the other...
morally... in check."  He looked at the Ninja with
desperate concern.  "Um, UN... are you sure about
this...?  I mean... about these two..."
   "Sure I'm sure," said the Ninja.  "Braver and more
upstanding legionnaires you'll never find."
   Master Blaster spoke up.  "So, we get to go
anywhere?  Anytime?"
   "Well, yes, assuming it works," replied Stomper. 
"There are some risks..."
   "What???" said Sarc.
   "Well, it could just blow-up, or it could scatter
your atoms throughout the timestream, or..."
   The Ultimate Ninja burst into hysterical laughter. 
"Ha, ha, ha!  Whoo!  Doctor Stomper-- such a kidder!"
   "Yeah, he's a real riot," said Sarc dourly.
   Master Blaster remained undaunted.  "Because I'd
like to visit ancient Troy and see what all the fuss
was about with Helen.  Then there's Cleopatra!  And
Ishtar!  The stories about her..."
   Sarc was flabbergasted.  "You mean you'd be willing
to risk your life just to satisfy your--"
   "I'm talking about having the opportunity to act
out fantasies that I never would have imagined ever
being able to act out."
   "I dunno..."
   "No STDs," said Master Blaster.  "And we can always
hop on the time-cycle when their fathers or husbands
show up!  Just think about it, Sarc: sex without any
   "Alright, Doc!" said Sarc.  "You've got yourself
two volunteers!"

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 |||  ||||| | | | |||||# 1

   "Holy shit," said Master Blaster.  "That's a big
ass ASCII."
   "From the horrible pun in the title," noted Sarc as
the time-cycle came to a stop, "I'd say that we're in
   Master Blaster looked around, noting pyramids,
sand, and other stereotypically Egyptian things.  "We
are in Egypt.  And the women are hot!"
   "Well, we're obviously not in our own time, then. 
Or maybe this is an alternate reality."
   "According to the time-cycle, we're in the year 48
B. C.  And we should probably mention that co-writer
Martin Phipps actually did live in North Africa for a
while and is speaking from experience when he has you
make that particular comment about Egyptian women."
   "Experience?  What kind of experience?" Sarc
winced.  "Now there's an image I want out of my head."
   "What if, instead, you tried imagining me with that
girl over there?"
   "I suspect you are way ahead of me on that score,
my friend!  Mmm-mmm.  I don't suppose you know how to
speak ancient Egyptian?"
   "No."  He sighed.  "I guess I'll just have to rely
entirely on my Mack Daddy Vibes."
   "Then I don't suppose you can use those Mack Daddy
Vibes to see if she has a friend, hmm?"


   "Man!" exclaimed Sarc.  "That was athletic!"
   << I can't believe they finished so soon, >> said
one of the Egyptian girls.
   << Worst sex of my life, >> said the second.
   << And such small portions, >> complained the
   The fourth and fifth sighed.
   "Nothing like an orgy in the morning to get the
blood pumping, heh, me bucko?" said Sarc.
   "Rob?  What's wrong?  We just bedded five hot
Egyptian chicks thousands of years before our birth! 
Well," he said, wiping some sand from his ass, "maybe
bedded is the wrong word."
   << He better not say beached! >>
   "I know what you mean.  But it was just too easy. 
I mean, if I wanted to seduce college-age girls, I
could do that at home.  I came here for the challenge.
 And this just wasn't challenging."
   "There are more girls in Egypt."
   "It's quality that counts, my friend.  Not
   "Though there is a lot to be said for quantity,"
said Sarc.  "Few things in life are as satisfying as
having more breasts to squeeze than hands to squeeze
   "True," agreed Master Blaster.  "But I volunteered
for this mission so I could fulfill some of my wildest
fantasies.  So I could add some more notches to my
belt.  I may have gotten five of these," he waved
dismissively at the increasingly-irritated young
women, "but one Cleopatra is worth more than these
combined.  The queen of the Nile!  The sexy little
minx who rolled out of a carpet naked and gave Caesar
the best head of his life!"
   "But how're we going to get to Cleopatra?"
   "We'll find a way," said Master Blaster, narrowing
his eyes with determination.  "I came here to get me
some Ptolemaic pussy, and I'm not leaving until I get
   "Whoa!" said Sarc.  "That line was a bit crass...
even for you."
   "I was channeling Tom Russell," Master Blaster
   "So, does Tom have any ideas on how you're going to
get into Cleopatra's pants or robes or whatever it is
she wears?"
   "Apparently not because he's asking Martin to
finish the issue."
   "Because historically, Cleopatra didn't
bonk-like-an-Egyptian with just anybody.  You need to
be some great leader like Julius Caesar of Mark
   "You mean if I was a Latino pop star that she'd let
me visit her Netherworld?"
   "I mean, you're going to have to do something to
impress her."
   "Hmm.  I've got an idea..."

   <<Because of your great accomplishments, >> the
head of the Imperial Guard proclaimed, << you have
been granted an audience with our queen! >>
   Cleopatra stood up, surveying the courtyard with a
slightly-upturned nose.  She made it a point to never
bow her head: not because it was against ancient
Egyptian etiquette, but because she was afraid her
ginormous crown would fall off her head.  << Approach
me! >>
  << I am truly honoured, my queen! >>
  << Yes, well, you have more than earned it!  You are
top in your hieroglyphics writing class.  What is it
that you desire? >>
   The proud scribe merely smiled as he bowed to his
queen.  Just as he opened his mouth to make his
request, one which would have forever changed the
course of human destiny, his voice was drowned out by
a horrible sound never heard before in ancient Egypt. 
It went a little something like this: VROOM!
  << What is that horrible sound? >> Cleopatra
  << I'm not sure! >> her guardsmen said nervously. 
<< It's never been heard before in Egypt! >>
   << It's getting louder, closer! >>
   Master Blaster and Sarcastic Lad came flying
through the wooden gate on the time-cycle, causing the
wood to split and shatter.  As the sawdust settled,
our heroes struck casual, but dynamic poses, making
for an impressive entrance indeed.  Cleopatra's jaw
dropped to the ground as her guards scattered,
shouting stereotypical time-travel story nonsense
about demons and wetting themselves like little girls.
   "I don't know if that was a good idea," said Sarc.
   "It got her attention, didn't it?"
   "It can't be good for the bike to be driving it
through gates.  We need this thing to get back home,
   "You worry too much," said Master Blaster.  "So...
this is Cleopatra?"
   "I guess so."
   "Well, she's not exactly what I expected."
   "How so?"
   "Well, Egyptian girls are hot-- at least in this
time period-- so I would have expected Cleopatra to be
the hottest of them all."
   "She's... not.  She looks like Elizabeth Taylor. 
But not 1967 Elizabeth Taylor."
   "That makes sense.  Liz did play her in the movie."
   "I don't mean Elizabeth Taylor from 1967.  I mean
the Elizabeth Taylor of 1995.  You know, after the
thirty year doughnut binge."
   "So, I take it you're not going through with this?"
   "Well... I didn't say that..."
   "But if she's this ugly..."
   "She's still Cleopatra.  I can't pass up this
   "Do you suppose she's heard of doggy style?"
   "Oh no no no!  Gross, Sarc!  I'd rather have to
look at her face."
   "But you haven't seen her ass yet.  It could be a
vast improvement."
   "Emphasis on vast."
   "Well," suggested Sarc, "why don't we use the
time-cycle and go back in time to when she was young
and firm?"
   "Um, Sarc?  She's only twenty-one."
   "Yep.  People didn't live as long in these days. 
Life expectancy was maybe thirty, forty, fifty, like
that.  So she's already middle-aged."
   "And I don't want to bang her when she's fourteen. 
That's not the kind of reputation I was hoping for."
   "Well, what are you going to do?"
   "You know," said Master Blaster after a moment's
thought.  "This isn't really that big of a problem. 
My Mack Daddy Vibes have gotten me through worse than
this.  That, plus closing my eyes and thinking of
Paula Abdul."
   "Last time you fantasized about Paula Abdul,"
warned Sarc, "you got Deja Dude in serious trouble."
[*-- see LNH vol. 1 # 87 & 89-90.]
   "Yes," admitted Master Blaster, "but this is
actually the first time I ever thought of Paula Abdul.
 Hell, 48 B.C., it's the first time _anyone_ has ever
thought of Paula Abdul!  Oh, man.  Do you know what
this means?  I've just invented Paula Abdul!"  Now
brimming with confidence, Master Blaster approached
Cleopatra and started using the few words of ancient
Egyptian he had learned from this morning's orgy.
   << Oh! >> he said.  <<Your penis is so... small. >>
   << Excuse me? >> Cleopatra said, slightly confused.
   << Oh, okay.  Now that I've touched it it's gotten
a little bigger.  Cute little feller.  I think I'll
name him Cedric. >>
   << Guards? >>
   << I know you're going to enjoy this. >>
   << Oh?  What's that> >>
   << I can barely wait any longer.  Do me!  Do me! 
Do me nice and hard! >>
   << Hmm.  So the strange foreign man wants to be
domineered, eh?  That's interesting.  While I can
order any man in Egypt to do my bidding, you seem
quite enthusiastic. >>
   "I didn't know you had learned their language,"
said Sarc.  "What's she saying?"
   "I don't know.  I'm not Linguist Lass.  I'm just
repeating a few of the things the girls said to us."
   "Okay.  So either you're going to get laid or
   "I'm hoping to get laid," Master Blaster said
   Cleopatra walked towards them, licking her lips
with her tongue.  << You've been a very naughty boy.
>>  She grabbed him by the hand and led him into the
   "Alright!" he said.  "Hey, Sarc!  See you in
fifteen minutes!"
   "Don't flatter yourself," smirked the caustic
crusader.  "You never last more than five."


   "So, Rob.  How'd it go?"
   "Don't ask."
   "Did you get your Ptolemaic pussy?"
   He shuddered.  "Yes.  Yes, I did."
   "Congratulations, buddy!  Did you really do it for
an hour?"
   "I said, don't ask."  Rob was getting a bit short.
   "I mean, this must be a new record for you.  Did
her hideous deformity help you pace yourself better,
so it was like tantric, or...?"
   "Yes, Rob?"
   "Shut up."
   "Oh.  So it's like that, huh?"
   "Well, then, are we going to Troy to see Helen or
   "Well," Master Blaster mused, "she was the woman
whose face launched a thousand ships."
   "Yeah, well, maybe they were fleeing from her."
   Master Blaster snickered.  "Yeah.  Maybe."
   "I mean, Helen could have been Cleo's descendent,
or ancestor, or whatever.  Hell, they could have been
twin sisters separated at birth."
   "Ewww." Master Blaster shuddered at the thought.
   "To be honest," said Sarc, "I'm not that good at
history, so I don't know."
   Master Blaster nodded.  "You've made your point
though.  The great 'beauties' of history are
overrated.  And we've proven that Stomper's time-cycle
works.  So.  Let's just go back to our own time and
bang some twentieth century babes."
   "Alright then!  Let's go!"
   "Not just yet."  He winced.  "It'll be a while
before I can sit down again, let alone ride a
   "Okay," said Sarc.  "We've got LNHHQ, August 1995
punched in.  We should reappear about two minutes
after we left.  Are you ready?"
   Master Blaster carefully sat down on a pink throw
pillow he had absconded with.  "Ready as I'll ever
   They cranked the bike up, accelerating to
eighty-five miles per hour.  They disappeared in a
flash of light.

   "Oh-oh," said Master Blaster.  "This isn't LNHHQ."
   Sarc looked out from his sidecar, surveying the
sweeping sandy desolate sand-swept desolation.  He
smirked.  "How can you tell?"
   "This is Mexico."
   "Are you sure?"
   "Yes, I'm sure.  Look.  There's a sombrero."
   "It could be Sombrero Lad."
   "I'm Mexican, remember?  I know my home country!"
   "So, what happened?  Because I distinctly do not
remember typing MEXICO-- WHO KNOWS WHEN on the bike
before we left."
   "I don't know."
   "Maybe blasting through that gate back in Egypt
wasn't such a good idea, Rob.  Maybe the bike is
   "Maybe our actions in Egypt affected the timeline
and disrupted the time currents."
   "I figured you'd be less upset if I sounded like I
knew what I was talking about."
   "Oh, okay."
   "Did it work?"
   "No," Sarc said flatly.  "So what else can go
   "Um... we're kind of low on gas."
   "Define low on gas."
   "The tank's empty."


   "U. N.!" said Stomper.  "Master Blaster and Sarc
are almost ready... Say!  What are you doing with that
   "Oh, nothing, nothing..."

MEXICO, 1615

   "Well," said Sarc, eyeing the headline, "at least
now we know when we are.  A comforting thought,
considering how we're stuck here!"
   "It's not that big of a deal," said Master Blaster
dismissively.  "It's not like we need plutonium or a
one-hundred gigawatt bolt of lightning.  All we need
is plain old gasoline."
   "Right.  So we'll just drive up to the nearest
Texaco and fill 'er up."
   "We can use my credit card," offered Rob helpfully.
   "Great," Sarc sighed.  "So basically, things can't
possibly get any worse!"
   Just then, a local posse surrounded our heroes and
the bike.  They spoke in Spanish.
   << Who are you two? >> the leader of the posse
   Master Blaster replied, in flawless Spanish, <<
Just passing through. >>
   << What's with the metal horse? >>
   << This?  Oh, this isn't a horse.  It's just a
motorcycle. >>
   << A motorcycle? >>
   << Yes, it runs on gas.  Could you direct us to the
nearest Texaco? >>
   Sarc slapped his own forehead.  "Please tell me
that Texaco means something in Spanish."
   The posse leader said, << I'm afraid I'm going to
have to ask you to come with us. >>
   << Oh...?  Why's that...? >>
   << Well, because we're stereotypically xenophobic
corrupt Mexican lawmen who don't take kindly to seeing
strangers riding their fancy, um... uh... >>
   << Motorcycles. >>
   << Right.  Motorcycles.  So you'll have to come
with us. >>
   << I'm afraid it's out of gas. It won't run without
it. >>  He pointed to the gas cap.
   One of the posse members walked over to the bike
and opened the gas cap.  He pulled down his pants and
let loose a terrific fart.
   "Well," said Master Blaster.  "That'd be a Tom
Russell joke."
   Sarc sniffled.  His good friend, Flatulence Lad,
had died but three years before.  The eruption of
flatus near and into the stratosphere reminded him of
his fallen comrade, causing an uncharacteristic tear
to well up in the eye of the caustic crusader.
   << If your motorcycle refuses our gifts, then
you'll have to come on foot, gringos. Now get moving!
   << Hey, man! >> said Master Blaster.  << Don't call
me gringo, man!  I'm from Mexico, damn it! >>
   The posse pulled out their pistols in order to make
their point.
   "Okay," said Sarc with a sigh.  "Looks like I was
wrong when I said things can't get any worse."



Master Blaster and Linguist Lass created by Martin

Sarcastic Lad created by Gary St. Lawrence.

Ultimate Ninja created by wReam.

Dr. Stomper created by T. M. Neeck.



Tom Russell
Limited autographed dvds now on sale, directly from the filmmaker

"In the beginning, Milos seems to have no clue how to relate to anyone.  He is quizzical, leaving the viewer questioning and wondering..." -- Ryan M. Niemiec, co-author of MOVIES AND MENTAL ILLNESS


"If a comic book, book, movie or novel is not somebody's fantasy 
then who wrote it and to whom does it appeal to?  In order for a 
shared universe to have a widespread appeal, it has to appeal on 
a primal level.  If somebody says superhero comics are just 'wish 
fulfillment' then he needs to explain what is entertainment that 
doesn't satisfy our wishes and what satisfaction at all you can get 
from it." -- Dr. Martin Phipps

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