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

Arthur Spitzer arspitzer at
Thu Mar 30 17:10:20 PST 2006

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 psychiatrist.

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 that?

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 direction.

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

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 Man?

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 other.

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 abilities.

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


NICE GUY!!!!!"

The Road Rager occasionally would take a break from his shooting spree to

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

More information about the racc mailing list