LNH/ACRA: Pants Rabbit Lad & Master Blaster Special

[Tom Russell]

 an untold tale of Pants Rabbit Lad
Pants Rabbit Lad & Master Blaster in
 "The Vagina That Ate Net.ropolis!"
   an ACRA Vocab-Challenge Story
      written by: Tom Russell
    plot by: Mary & Tom Russell

1999.
   Suicide Werewolf tosses the unconscious bodies of
the Ultimate Ninja, Master Blaster, Sister
State-the-Obvious, Groundswell, Sarcastic Lad,
Sing-Along Lass, Cheesecake-Eater Lad, Domestic Lad,
CAPTAIN CAPITALIZE, Dr. Stomper, Limp-Asparagus Lad,
Dva, Agent, Morph, Missy, Self-Righteous Preacher,
Frat Boy, Nudist Man, Anal-Retentive Archive Kid,
Writer's Block Woman and Mouse into a stack.  Only
Pants Rabbit Lad remains, and the nefarious villain is
closing in on him fast.
   "You may have bested my teammates," says the Crabs
Champion, "but me and my powers are going to bring you
down!"
   "You beat me once," acknowledges Suicide Werewolf,
"but this time, that's not going to happen!"
   Suicide Werewolf pulls a lever, and suddenly, a
force-bubble envelopes Pants Rabbit Lad, smacking him
in the nose.
   "This," says Suicide Werewolf, tapping his skull,
"is the most fiendish criminal mind of the last
century!"
   "And yet," says Pants Rabbit Lad, floating inside
the force-bubble, "I defeated you just last week!"
   Suicide Werewolf pulls another level, and Pants
Rabbit Lad feels something hot and scalding against
his leg.  As gas fills the bubble up, Suicide Werewolf
gloats: "You only beat me because my body happened to
be susceptible to your powers, remember?  But after
you've been fumigated by my special toxins, you will
lose your crabs, and your powers-- oh my goodness, a
sand bag!"
   Pants Rabbit Lad, choked by the fumigation within
the tiny force-bubble, falls unconscious just as the
rogue sand bag strikes Suicide Werewolf on the head,
knocking him out.

   "I always thought I was worthless," Mysterious
Falling Sand Bag Lad was saying as Pants Rabbit Lad
painfully rouses in the med-lab, "until I at last had
an opportunity to act!  Now, maybe people will start
to appreciate--"
   Unfortunately, Pants Rabbit Lad did not have
Mysterious Falling Sand Bag Lad's luck.  The
fumigation had completely destroyed his body lice,
robbed him of his powers, and even ruined the pages of
his paperback book.
   "Without my powers," whines the now Crabless
Champion, "what am I going to do *now*?"

   "Plenty of LNH members don't have powers," says
Catalyst Lass, a thin long strand of deep dark brown
dividing her face like a piece of fine, soft silk
lace.  "They still have lots of friends," the maven of
persuasion adds with the off-hand emphasis of which
she is an acknowledged master.
   Pants Rabbit Lad seems hesitant to take the bait. 
"I don't have any friends in the first place," he
whines, wandering off into the heavy dusk.

   Cat quickly weaves her web, like one of those
things that are like insects but they have eight legs
instead of six, what are they called, arachnids, yeah,
but what's the thing with a web, oh yeah, right, a
spider.
   Cheesecake-Eater Lad pulls out his rolling pin:
"Okay, so Pants Rabbit Lad lost his powers,
meaning...?"
   Sarcastic Lad snickers: "He also lost his fluffy
white tail?"
   "It means he can't give anyone crabs," says
Catalyst Lass, pounding her first into the
freshly-rolled dough.
   "And that was why we've been shunning him," says
the Amazing Amish Desk-Sitting Man as he enters the
kitchen, seated upon his magical floating writing
desk.
   "This is a chance for a new start," agrees Cat, "a
chance to leave all that crap in the past."
   "Ten-four there, Cat," the caustic crusader says
into an imaginary C.B. radio, "but *I'm* still going
to belittle him, do you copy?"
   ^ Well, you *are* a giant ass, Sarc, ^ says
Flatulence Lad (or rather, his unseen, unheard,
unavenged-- but not unsmelt-- ghost).

   The new Pants Rabbit Lad is soon transplanted into
the Legion's collective body by Cat, that supreme
social surgeon.  Where once his heart was cold and
lonely, it now pumps friendship and acceptance into
his blood.
   The guys discover that he can be fun and crazy and
reckless, a wild side that seems to be brought out of
him in the light of the moon.  (They still laugh, to
this day, at the time they pranked the Ultimate Ninja
with a stink-bomb.)
   And now that he's clean-shaven and disease-free, he
finds that the ladies won't give him any peace.  He
considers jumping in bed with a good many of them and
getting his virginity over with, but he knows that
would be wrong.  He's no longer some desperate,
sniveling child staring at her feet and wringing his
hand around his cap.
   "I'll take my time, wait until I've found the right
one," he says, little realizing how soon he will be
haunted by that statement.

   One day, a fifty story vagina appears in downtown
Net.ropolis, causing this story to acquire an ACRA
label (unusual, for Pants Rabbit Lad) and causing the
characters within this story to squirm.  Its gigantic
pink labia parts of its own accord and, its clitoris
twitching anxiously, it begins to suck in all it saw
before it: people, fire hydrants, buildings,
newspapers, dogs, tough dogs, sissy dogs, big dogs,
little dogs, dogs that climb on rocks, even dogs with
chicken pox, armored hot cats, and trees, down to the
last twitching branch.

   "Since you're all here," says the Ultimate Ninja as
he looks over his crack team of giant vagina monster
experts, "I'll come right to the point.  Go downtown,
find this monster, and save downtown from its wreath."
   "Arr, matey, I think you mean wrath," notes Master
Blaster, wearing a pirate outfit that he had won as a
raffle prize.
   "Just get down there, and make it quick."
   "To battle!" commands Master Blaster with a
rattling rapier, a sentiment that is echoed by Nudist
Man, Self-Righteous Preacher, Sarcastic Lad and
Disappearing Clown.

   "Obscure Trivia Lad thinks you're bluffing."
   "Whatever you think, you still have to make a
wager," says Pants Rabbit Lad, keeping his cards close
to his vest.
   Obscure Trivia Lad mumbles a minor curse word
(something along the lines of rassum-frassum), but to
Pants Rabbit Lad's ears, it is welcomed like a
blessing.

   The monstrous vagina lets out a hearty roar, and
suddenly the four heroes (minus, of course,
Disappearing Clown) are covered with musk, hideous and
thick.

   Pants Rabbit Lad smiles and shakes the reporter's
hand as they conclude his interview for the society
section of the paper.

   Its pubic hairs lash out like snaking limbs,
lifting the legionnaires into the air like each was a
puppet.
   Only Master Blaster remains, and all his weapons
are as ineffectual as a hairpin trying to carve a
pumpkin.
   Its hideous, wobbling lips begin once more to peel.

   News of the battle in progress travels right to the
top.  The Ultimate Ninja prepares a list of a second
team, in case that the first shall fail, and takes a
deep breath.

   Mainstream Man lends some "doubles" to Pants Rabbit
Lad, since he, too, has started to collect.

   "'Ello, beastie," says Master Blaster as he draws
his sword, adjusts his hat, and leaps into the quaking
abyss.

   Team after team is sent, each one larger than the
last, each one held captive within its
short-and-curlies, and now Ultimate Ninja is starting
to feel the squeeze.  He'll go himself: this
ridiculousness has reached its limit.

   And then he, too, is snatched up, imprisoned in
those hairs along with a visiting chameleon.

   "With our fellow legionnaires trapped in its hairs,
we don't dare attack," says Dr. Stomper, "not even
with my new Time-Unraveling Refraction Diamond!"
   "If only there was someone to whom the monster had
a weakness," says the remaining three dozen
legionnaires in chorus.
   "Hi guys," says Pants Rabbit Lad, backlit by a
passing-by Lamp Lad, giving the appearance of a halo
of glory.
   "Pants Rabbit Lad," says Dr. Stomper, explaining
everything that's happened and the fact that he has
just the thing to restore Pants Rabbit Lad's powers
before adding, "you have a rare chance now to be a
hero, an opportunity for sacrafice that doesn't spring
up very often."
   "But once I do it, there'll be no going back," says
Pants Rabbit Lad with the reluctance of a retired
gunfighter.  His eyes well up with tears as he pounds
his fist into the wall's hard brick.  "I'll never get
to sow my wild oats.  All my friends will leave me,
all the fun will stop, all the games will quit."
   "But these are your friends, Pants Rabbit Lad,"
says Dr. Stomper, and his touch turns the quivering
legionnaire into hard, good, steady stone.
   "Okay," says Pants Rabbit Lad, goosepimples forming
on his flesh, though not from cold.  "I'd rather be
Pants Rabbit Lad, than the Legion be dead."

   Pants Rabbit Lad, his powers restored, stands
before the hideous wall of pink.  The monster lets out
a roar, and its follicles begins to twitch anxiously,
pubic lice digging in mercilessly, and as the
legionnaires falls safely to the ground, Pants Rabbit
Lad (the hero!) thinks for once that life is sweet.

   The monster dies in anguish, but no one wanders
close enough to Pants Rabbit Lad to thank him, or to
shake his hand, even wearing a glove.

   Covered in slime and now wielding a large cucumber
instead of a sword, Master Blaster leaps out of the
pink chasm.
   "It was so warm and safe in there," he laments as
he bites into the vegetable.

NOTES.

Okay, so, I was watching the second Pirates of the
Caribbean movie, and I was struck by how much their
kraken's mouth resembled female genitalia.  I started
to write a Master Blaster story, and at the same time,
I started to write this Pants Rabbit Lad story, and I
figured, hey, why not just make them the same story? 
And so, here we are. :-)

This story is, of course, an answer to my own
Vocab-Story Challenge.

Character credits:

Pants Rabbit Lad, Groundswell, Mysterious Falling Sand
Bag Lad, Amazing Amish Desk-Sitting Man, Nudist Man,
Disappearing Clown, Suicide Werewolf, and the Giant
Vagina Monster: Tom Russell.

Master Blaster: Martin Phipps.

Ultimate Ninja, Self-Righteous Preacher, Sister
State-the-Obvious, CAPTAIN CAPITALIZE: wReam.

Sing-Along Lass: Jeff Barnes.

Obscure Trivia Lad: Brian Perler.

Frat Boy: uplink.

Domestic Lad: Ken Schmidt.

Dr. Stomper: T. M. Neeck.

Cheesecake-Eater Lad: M. Jotham Millheiser. 

Catalyst Lass: Elisabeth Riba.

Limp-Asparagus Lad, Anal Retentive Archive Kid: Saxon
Brenton.  Used with permission.

Agent, Dva, Morph, Missy: Jamas Enright.  Used with
permission.

Writer's Block Woman & Mouse: Jessica Ihimaera-Smiler.
 Used with permission.

Sarcastic Lad, Flatulence Lad: Gary St. Lawrence. 
Sarcastic Lad is not reserved.  Flatulence Lad is
dead, but no one seems to know whether his ghost is
reserved or not, or have Gary's e-mail.

I did use the ghost of Flats once before, with Gary's
permission/assistance, back in my god-awful
NET.ROPOLIS # 2.  I don't think he'd really mind...
but I do know that I'm being just a little bit naughty
this time.  Sorry.

(C) COPYRIGHT 2006 TOM RUSSELL.



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        |    TOM     |
         \ RUSSELL  /
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-------------------------------------
- turtleneckfilms.blogspot.com ------
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-------fun sites to visit------------
----- www.wilsego.com/racc ----------
----- www.monitorduty.com -----------
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_LNH -------
youtube.com/profile?user=therussells
-------------------------------------

see the zombie sitcom, NED & SUNSHINE
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fen83bl8jSw


 
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