[LNH] [RACCies] Just Imagine Saxon Brenton vs. Andrew Perron in the Return of the RACCies! #3

Andrew Perron pwerdna at gmail.com
Sun Sep 27 16:21:13 PDT 2009

Pointless Awards Man IV had stood.  One eye was cast in shadow, while
the other gleamed in the light.  A wind came out of nowhere, blowing
it out of its tight, moussed prison and into shifting spikes.

"Have you ever wondered who I was before the Grapety Purple Man made
me his herald?  Did you stop to think that I might have had power
beyond what he granted me?"

The tuxedo dissolved, revealing sleek, technological armor.  PAM IV's
eyes flashed purple.

"I've been purple for a long time."






Just Imagine Saxon Brenton vs. Andrew Perron in the Return of the
RACCies! #3



Suddenly, the secret government warehouse where Manga Man Violet (aka 
Pointless Awards Man IV: The Voyage Home), along with Bluetooth (aka 
Never Gets Credit For His Dialogue Lad), had been fighting the 
mysterious Interim Iconoclasts (aka Some Guys Who Appeared Out Of 
Nowhere When Bluetooth Accidentally Shot The Crystal Containing "Just 
Imagine Saxon Brenton Presents The RACCies Again! #6" With The Legacy 
Beam)... shook.

"No..." said Manga Man Violet, staring at the ceiling. "It's the third 

Suddenly, the Interim Iconoclasts broke out of the reverie that MM 
Violet's transformation sequence had induced and leapt at him.  He 
dodged a whip, a flail, and a grappling hook, then flipped into the air 
and landed in an Iconoclast's face.

He ducked as a ninja-to swung past. "Oh, c'mon!" he shouted. "You call 
that a melee weapon?  It's made for stealth!  Not like--" A bardiche 
whistled past him. "--this thing!  That guy coulda chopped me in half."

The ninjaish Iconoclast paused in her attack. "What?  That's 
ridiculous!  No poleaxe could be half as elegant!"

The other Iconoclast stopped as well. "Hah!  Elegance?  There's no 
place for pretty things on the battlefield!"

"Now wait a moment," interrupted another wielding a finely-crafted 
chain. "Elegance is one thing, but there's certainly room for 

Several other Iconoclasts had slowed in their attacks to watch the 
growing argument, and Manga Man Violet knew that this moment, before 
they could be urged back to battle, was the time to use his powers. 
"You know what would solve this argument?"

They turned to him, as one.

"A fighting tournament!"

And suddenly, it seemed like the most natural thing in the world.  The 
Iconoclasts broke up, discussing pairings and asking their rivals not 
to allow anyone else to defeat them.

"What?  Tournament!?" shouted their leader, rapping his 
glaive-guissarme on the floor. "No!  Defeat the net.hero!"

But apparently, this was the drawback to leading a group defined by 
their differences; they did as they liked.  Manga Man Violet slipped 
out the back door carrying Bluetooth under one arm and the "Just 
Imagine... Again! #6" crystal in the other.



Shadows pooled in the corners of the alley.  All was silent except for 
a low, rumbling moan from within the sewers.  Could've been a pocket of 
gas, released by the evening rain.  Could've been a demon of repressed 
hate, rising out of the city's leavings to kill.

Longinus was going to find out.

The half-vampire detective, black of skin and dark of mind, wore the 
night like an expertly tailored suit.  He readied a holly stake and 
prepared to lift the drain cover when a familar rustling came at the 
edge of hearing.

Longinus leapt as a green blur rushed past.  The green was a shade 
midway between forest and olive, and as he landed on a fire escape, it 
resolved into the cape of an old man, tall, with gray hair, a regal, 
arrogant bearing, and great bushy eyebrows.

"Elam," the man smirked. "Fancy you'd be here."

"Jackson," Longinus spat. "Just because I didn't kill you for turning 
my mother doesn't mean I won't kill you now."

The vampire sighed. "Mortals are *so* impatient.  Now I'm going to have 
to take half an hour to explain to you yet again why you should come to 
the dark side, join with me, go full vampire, renounce your mortal ties, 
stop having sexual and romantic tension with that girl who hangs around 
your office all the time..."

A burst of blazing energy thankfully cut him off.  A column of 
reddish-brown energy enveloped Longinus in brilliant relief, and after 
it faded away, he was different...

"Elam?" said Jackson, leaning over but keeping his guard up.

"Naw, night-honkey," said the man who stood.  His hair had curled and 
stood on end, and he'd acquired a moustache, a goatee, and muttonchops.  
His stealth outfit had been replaced by a bright yellow leather jacket 
and blue bell-bottoms, and around his neck was a great gold necklace 
with a huge golden cross inlaid with diamonds, rubies, emeralds, and 
who knew what else hanging from it. "You're talkin' to Blasferatu!"


Manga Man Violet peeked out of the abandoned HD-DVD wholesaler outlet. 
"Looks like the coast is clear." Bluetooth sat, woozy but recovering, 
next to him.

"So... y'r a Manga Man robot too?"

Manga Man Violet (look, let's just call him Violet for a bit) scowled. 
"No, no.  I'm a member of the Power Manga."


"Remember, in the first RACCies cascade, there were those anonymous 
RACC readers?  And at one point, they transformed into 
variously-colored Manga Men, and then never appeared again?"

"...we're really doing that."

"Yes, so close your inadequately-attributed pie hole." Violet leaned 
back as Bluetooth rolled his eyes. "Yep, those were the days.  There 
was Red, Blue, Yellow, Green, and ol' Pink."

"So, if you're not robots, what's the deal?"

"Y'see, back in early 1996, Manga Man-- I'm honestly not sure which 
one-- brought together six young anime fans.  He gave them powers and a 
solemn mission - to advance the cause of anime and manga whereever and 
whenever they could.  Thus, the Power Manga was born."

And then Pokemon came out, and anime and manga were everywhere.  So we 
just sort of faded into the background, anonymously monitoring the 
newsgroup for places we could step in and help out." Violet shrugged.

"I see... so why weren't you in the group that appeared before?"

"I'm the sixth member.  We always show up late."

Bluetooth shook his head.

"Naturally.  So what do we do now?"

Violet sighed. "I don't know.  I mean, it's the third issue!"

"What's so bad about the third issue?  It's certainly longer than I 
expected this storyline to go!"

"Don't you see?  Three issues by the same author.  The pretense of a 
RACCies cascade has faded away, and with it, the last thing holding 
back the Hungry Past of the Looniverse..."


Phoenix Down, that repugnant reprobate of resurrection, cackled in 
glee. "Now that I've translated the Pebkacotic Manuscripts, no one can 
stop me from finding the Dagon Balls and bringing back Sig.Lad as 

A breeze blew, and Phoenix Down shivered. "Bah!  When I bought this 
Mausoleum of Malice off craigslistserv, I was informed there was 
central heating!"

The wind picked up.  In the gray granite vault, an unnatural chill 
rose.  Phoenix Down's breath coalesced, and he realized this was no 
ordinary cold snap... right before the universe tore away.

He could feel his soul being ripped from its moorings.  Something was 
pulling at him, weakening his connection to the world, to the people he 
knew, to the reasons he did what he did -- his past was literally being 

He screamed.

When the screaming ended, the man who had once been Phoenix Down lay on 
the stone floor.  He staggered to his feet, and even in the low light 
of the mausoleum, cast no shadow.  His eyes were empty, and his outline 
slightly indistinct.  Lurching forward in response to a distant call, 
he moaned a single word...



Author's Note: Hah!  Told you I'd make it an ongoing series!

The origin of Longinus's name may not be obvious.  Basically, I was 
looking to combine Marvel's Blade and Buffy's Angel. (I pondered doing 
a homage to the hentai OAV "Angel Blade", but decided against it.) I 
looked to see if there were any named swords associated with Biblical 
angels, but didn't come up with anything, so I decided to take a 
half-step back in each direction and just go for a Christian relic 
weapon.  Thus, the Lance of Longinus, aka the Spear of Destiny.

Is the Blackest Night parody going to go any further than this?  Not 
sure, really, although I do already have a Blue and a Violet...

Andrew "NO .SIG MAN" "Juan" Perron, hmmmmmm.

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