LNH/NTB: JONG #69 -- 'Who Cares About Tomorrow's Drool...?' <<An Elsewhirl!!!!>>

[Arthur Spitzer]

20 years ago I posted my first LNH story.  JONG #1.

And now 20 years later...


<<Warning:  Horrible, horrible, horrible stuff that no Man, Woman, or 
Child should ever be exposed to lies beneath these words.  You've been 
warned!>>





    "This is an ELSEWHIRL

(which may never happen, but okay.. most definitely won't)

about something that resembled a man who came from the gutter and did 
whatever he felt like.

    "It tells of his last one night stand, when the not so great battles 
were over and the great deus ex machinas long since performed;
of how his enemies kind of forgot about him and went on with their lives 
and of that final war in the cholesterol entrenched fastfood wastes 
beneath Moono's Taco Liquor Rama; of the women he loved and the 
illegitimate children he left them; of how he broke his most sacred oath 
(and then tried to superglue it together again), and how finally all the 
things he had were taken from him save one (but it's not like he hadn't 
stolen all that stuff in the first place).

    "It ends with the fourth wall biting the dust.

(or possibly none of the above will actually happen and the writer will 
write whatever he feels like.)

    "It begins in the loud vicious urban decay, one hellish afternoon in 
the miserable dystopian future.  In this damned city, people still 
sometimes glance down uneasily at the sidewalks, glimpsing a distant 
speck in the gutter...but no; it's only a mime, only a politician!  The 
Slobbering Grue! went MIA ten years ago... Thank God!


    "This is an ELSEWHIRL...


    "Aren't they all?"
        (Well except Dvandom Force and.. umm nevermind)



with deepest Apologies to Alan Moore...





LAST ISSUE!!!!!


    \-__   ___Guest Starring___-//
       / //                             ___________
      / // /   // /\  /// /---\\ /////  |         |
     / // / / // /  \/// //_<-\  \#69\  |Approved |
  \___// /___// /_/\_// \____//   \\\\\ |by no one|
           A whole lot of characters!   |Actually |
                                        -----------

(The comic approved by one out of nine dentists.  That the dentist was 
later found brain dead in an alley way is purely coincidental.)

Editor's Note:  Editor's Note Noted.


                           ** LAST ISSUE!!! **

The Future! --
Looniverse Classic! --
Net.ropolis, Loonited States! --
The Lawn of the Moono's Liquor World LNHHQ! --


"...And Stay Out!!!!" said a grizzled looking 
You're-Not-Hitting-Me-Hard-Enough Lad.  An eye patch dangled over his 
left eye as he kicked a raggedy homeless man out of the LNH's Headquarters.

"No!  No!  Please!  You've got to listen to me!" begged the homeless 
looking man.  Underneath the shabby coat he was wearing there seemed to 
be something that looked a bit like a superhero costume.  A faded black 
and blue costume with a boot imprint on it.  "I'm LNH!  But I'm from 
another alternate Looniverse!!  I was a leader for this LNH (well at 
least until I got kicked out of the leadership position)!  But 
regardless, I came here to warn you!  Warn this Looniverse!!  It's 
coming!!  It laid waste to my entire Looniverse!  Like it laid waste to 
thousands of other Looniverses!  And now it's coming here!!  You've got 
to believe me!!  You've gotta!!!!"

Kid Kicked Out looked at the doors of the LNHHQ slamming shut.  No one 
was listening to him.  "Please!  He's Coming...!!!!"

Kid Kicked Out looked up towards the sky.  "He's coming."


                           ** LAST ISSUE!!! **

Looniverse Y! --
A Beach! --


Two girls were bathing their very tan bodies in the sun.  In Bikinis! 
On beach blankets!

One by the name of Salsa Jr. eyed the girl next to her.  "Pardon me, 
would you have any -- 'No Duh! Poupon Flavored Soda'?"

The girl whose name was Cherry Jr. said with a sniff of her nose, "But 
of course!" as she handed a glass bottle on a silver tray to the girl 
next to her.

Hanging next to the two of them on a pole was a large poster that had a 
very well dressed short greenish creature on it.  He was sporting a 
monocle, a top hat, and a tuxedo.  On top were the words, 'Being Classy 
is Not a Crime.'

And on the bottom were the words, 'A Reminder From -- The Sophisticated 
Grue!'



                           ** LAST ISSUE!!! **



                  "Who Cares About Tomorrow's Drool...?"



                           ** LAST ISSUE!!! **




Welcome to the future.

They say that the meek will inherit the Earth.  Nope.  It's going to be 
the drooling idiots.  Trust me on this one.

God.  My name is Cockroach Las Vegas.  I'm a (hahah) Journalist.  And 
the last bastard in the whole goddamn world.  Oh, don't worry, there are 
still plenty of shitheads, motherfuckers, and other pathetic wastes of 
lives clogging the drain of civilization.  But no more bastards.  There 
was some virus (created by brilliant geniuses no doubt) that killed 
every single bastard in the world.  Every one of them except for me.  We 
used to have a club.  Called it the NTB.  What did it stand for? 
Neanderthal Thuggish Ballerinas -- something like that.  Can't Exactly 
Remember.  Doesn't matter.  It's all gone.  They're all gone.

And I'm here.  I'm writing some stupid article that my brain dead nazi 
editor inseminated into me.  It's about some stupid spandexer that used 
to fight crime -- called the Slobbering Groin -- and I'm wondering why 
I'm doing this.  I can't do this anymore.

Fuck this.  I'm not going to do this.  I think I'll just blow my brains 
away instead.


                           ** LAST ISSUE!!! **

Moono's Liquor World Noos Network --

"...And that's the suicide note renowned sleazy tabloid journalist 
Cockroach Las Vegas left in his hotel room.  He left behind no family or 
friends.  And this latest Facetoob poll shows that 69% of people are 
glad that he's finally dead.  The other 69% couldn't care one way or the 
other.

"And speaking of things people don't care about, President 
Self-Righteous Preacher signed into Law a Bill that will make it illegal 
to expose your belly button on National TV.  Hmm.  Guess I better expose 
mine now while I still can..."



                           ** LAST ISSUE!!! **

Espayola, Net.Mexico! --

"No More Exposed Belly Buttons!!?" screamed a thirty something guy (with 
an eye patch) who was covered in green paint and wearing only boxers. 
"You see what your father is doing to this country!!"  He shot a glance 
at the white haired thirty something girl (who also had an eye patch) 
sitting next to him on the couch.

"Believe me -- I don't agree with this law.  But maybe we should be a 
little more understanding of..."  The girl's name was Non-Judgmental 
Agnostic.  And she was President Self-Righteous Preacher's daughter.

"Understanding!!?"  The guy's name was Slobbering Grue Jr! son of -- 
well you know  (You do know, right?).  "He's trying to turn America into 
a Christian Theocracy and you want ME to be understanding?"

"I know.  I know," she said rubbing his shoulder with her hand.  "He's 
doing what he thinks is best.  That's all I'm saying."

"Yeah.  I know.  And I shouldn't take it out on you.  We can't help who 
are our fathers are.  It's just..."

"He's got a lot of anger in him."

"When was the last time you spoke to him?"

"It's been a long time."  She turned her head away.  Slobbering Grue Jr! 
gently touched her hand.  She pressed her head next to his green painted 
chest.  "He hates everything I am.  He doesn't want to deal with me. 
It's been like that ever since I was born.  My birth was tough on him -- 
especially since he was the one who was pregnant."

"I didn't know."

"Yeah.  It was some horrible prank played by one of his fellow LNH'rs. 
Some guy by the name of Mustard Blustard -- or something like that. 
This LNH'r edited another LNH'r named WikiBoy (I think) into like a Holy 
Spirit Ghost thingee, which caused my father to be pregnant by 
immaculate conception or something like that.  Of course most people 
would have probably had an abortion after something like that, but not 
my father.  He didn't believe in abortion.  So he had me.  But I think 
he blamed me for it."

"God.  I'm sorry."

"It's all right.  I always hope that one day he and I will -- I don't know."

"Goddamn fathers."  Slobbering Grue Jr! looked through the rain soaked 
studio apartment window into the dark night.


                           ** LAST ISSUE!!! **

Somewhere! --

An old balding man (with an eye patch) was watching some eXtreme skating 
on the tube while he ate a TV dinner.  A long time ago, he was supposed 
to appear in the back-up to JONG issue three.  He was THE SKATE.  But 
that never happened.  The writer was too lazy to write that back-up -- 
so it didn't happen.

Perhaps if that back-up had happened, his whole life would have been 
different.  It might have been an incredibly awesome life full of wicked 
skating action.

But now he was just a fat old bald man eating a tv dinner.

And the TV dinner sucked.

It sucked bad.


                           ** LAST ISSUE!!! **

The Moono's Liquor World LNHHQ! --

Foreshadowing Lad eyes opened up.  The bed felt strange.  Where was he? 
  He looked around.  Something was covering one of his eyes.  Some kind 
of eye patch.  Why was he here?  He saw a sign.  'The LNH Coma Ward'. 
Had he been in some kind of a coma?  Then he heard a sound.  Sounded 
like piano music.  Why was he hearing piano music?

And then a falling piano crushed Foreshadowing Lad to death.


                           ** LAST ISSUE!!! **


Namer Boy ran brushed his finger on his eye patch.  It seemed like he 
had been leader of the LNH forever.  But it had only been a few months. 
  Why was he leader?  It should be someone like Ultimate Ninja, Kid 
Kirby, Fearless Leader, Catalyst Lass, or even 
Even-Though-He'd-Really-Suck-As-LNH-Leader-He'd-Still-Be-A-Way-Better-Choice-Than-Namer-Boy 
Boy.  But they were all gone.  Gone forever.  And he was here.  "What 
did that hobo want?"

You're Not Hitting Me Hard Enough Lad shrugged his shoulders.  "I don't 
know.  What do hobos usually want?"

"Yeah.  Who knows.  Probably hobo stuff."

You're Not Hitting Me Hard Enough Lad made a grunting sound to that.

Pulls-Paper-Out-of-Hats Lad walked in (also sporting an eye patch). 
Namer Boy looked at him.  "Something up?"

Pulls-Paper-Out-of-Hats Lad took his hat off.  "I don't know.  Got this 
bad feeling.  Haven't had a feeling like this since -- 'Every Loses an 
Eye and has to wear an Eye Patch From Now On Cry.Sig'.

"God," said Namer Boy.  'Every Loses an Eye and has to wear an Eye Patch 
 From Now On Cry.Sig'.  "That Crossover Sucked."

"Yeah," nodded You're Not Hitting Me Hard Enough Lad gritting his teeth, 
"It Sucked Bad."



                           ** LAST ISSUE!!! **


Washington, DC! --
The Moono's Liquor World White House! --

Self-Righteous Preacher (also wearing an eye patch) looked at the wall. 
  It was covered in notes and pictures and maps.  And everything was 
connected.  And in the center of it was a drawing of some cat girl.  He 
didn't know the name of this cat girl (or did he?).  But he knew that 
she was responsible for all the evil in the world.  This was why he had 
become President.  So he would finally have the resources to stop this 
cat girl once and for all.  But he had been distracted by a bunch of 
other nonsense.  And now his second term was almost over.  And he still 
hadn't found her.

"Mr. President?  I'm afraid I've got some bad news."

"What?!"  Self-Righteous Preacher scowled.  "What's it this time!?"

"It's Vice President Chuggernaut.  He's been uh -- arrested -- again. 
Allegedly, he was robbing a bank and..."

"Why!?  Why did I ever make that degenerate bozo my VP?!"

"Because you needed to win over the swing voters who choose there vice 
presidents based on who they'd like to have a beer with.  As well as 
that Moono's Liquor World Corp. money!"

"And now it's almost over!  And what do I have to show for it!?"

"Well, err, you did manage to ban exposed belly buttons on television!"

The Preacher slammed his fist on his desk.  "It's not enough!  And she's 
still out there," he gazed at the picture of the cat girl.  "Destroying 
America!"

Another aide rushed into the room.  "Have you seen it?  It's on TV! 
Look!!"  He pointed his TV clicker on the Oval Office TV and turned it on.

It was some kind of spaceship hovering over Net.ropolis.  The camera 
zoomed in on a face.  It was some green toad like man dressed in a fancy 
tuxedo, with a top hat, and monocle over one eye.  The Preacher blinked 
his eyes.  It couldn't be!  But it was!  The Grue!

The Grue had returned!


                           ** LAST ISSUE!!! **

Net.ropolis! --

Namer Boy looked at the limp figure of Pulls-Paper-Out-of-Hats Lad. 
Blood and Nacho cheese sauce covered his body.  He looked at You're Not 
Hitting Me Hard Enough Lad who was still fighting it -- the creature -- 
The Nacho.  Nacho the Leaping Nacho!!  Everyone else was dead.  Ripping 
Dancer.  Ubiquitous Boy Lad Jr. 
Saxon-Brenton-Will-Write-the-Brother-of-So-Lame-Even-Saxon-Brenton-Wouldn't-Use-Him-In-A-Story-Lad-When-Hell-Freezes-Over 
Lad.  The Saviors of the Net.  All the Holiday Miracle Pets (This was 
happening during Holiday Miracle Pet Week)!  They were all dead!

Why was this happening?  God.  It can't be stopped.  They needed Captain 
Continuity, Kid Kirby, The Ultimate Ninja.  But they weren't here 
anymore.  Leaping Nacho Hurter had warned them that this day would come. 
  He looked at the dead body of Leaping Nacho Hurter next to the dead 
body of Goggles Guy.  He couldn't even stop it.

He heard a sickening snap.  He knew You're Not Hitting Me Hard Enough 
Lad was dead.  Namer Boy bit his lip.  He was now the last LNH'r.  He 
was humanities last chance.  Namer Boy took out a knife and cut into his 
hand.  He used his blood to scrawl words onto a bomb that was next to 
him.  He looked at the words.  "I name you Death!  Death to All Nachos!!!"

He clicked a button.  The bomb would activate the moment his heart 
stopped.  And then he looked at Nacho the Leaping Nacho who was still 
leaping over the corpses of all his dead teammates.  He pointed his gun 
at the Nacho and pulled the trigger.  There was a loud bang.  The bullet 
ricocheted off the body of Nacho the Leaping Nacho.  Nacho the Leaping 
Nacho looked straight into Namer Boy's direction.  There was contempt in 
its eyes (well if it had eyes -- they were probably more like those 
little specks that all tortilla chips have).  It began to leap towards 
Namer Boy.

That's right, you bastard, come closer.  Namer Boy took a couple more shots.

And then a large shadow eclipsed the whole battleground.  Both Nacho the 
Leaping Nacho and Namer Boy looked up.  It was a space ship.  A very 
large space ship.  Nacho the Leaping Nacho ignoring Namer Boy leapt 
towards the space ship.  But before it could reach the ship it was 
blasted by some type of laser cannon.

Namer Boy watched the ray totally disintegrate Nacho the Leaping Nacho. 
  What the hell was that thing?  And then he looked in horror as the ray 
began to blast over the rest of Net.ropolis too.


                           ** LAST ISSUE!!! **

The Moono's Liquor World Net.Mexico Institute for the Criminally Inane --

"Okay," said a prison guard with a clipboard.  "Due to overcrowding, 
we've gotten orders to release all of the JONG supervillains from this 
prison!  So, any JONG supervillain -- line up over there.  You!  Plum 
Master!  Go over there!"

"Moi?" said Plum Master polishing one of his plums.  "I'm afraid there 
must be a mistake.  I'm an Easily-Discovered Man villain, not a JONG 
villain!  I mean I may have done one (okay -- two) issues of that series 
-- but that was when I was young.  I really needed the money!  It was 
really hard times and..."

"Says here that you're a JONG villain.  You want to be released -- or not!?"

"Well, I suppose so."

"Are you sane -- or insane?"

"Hmm," said Plum Master as he pondered that question.  "I better consult 
with my mental therapy plum!"  Plum Master dug out a plum out of one of 
his pockets and put it next to his ear.  "Yes?  You don't say!  Ahah! 
Yes, yes, yes!"  And then Plum Master looked back at the prison guard. 
"My mental therapy plum says that I'm completely sane.  Completely 
Sane!!!!!  Heeheheheheheheheheheheehheehh!!!!!!!"

"Okay.  Sign right here."  Plum Master quickly signed the form.  "And 
you?" said the Prison Guard looking at a gigantic robot that had the 
ability to change into a dumpster.  The Robo-MAC known as -- 
Dumpster-TRON!!!  "Sane or Insane?"

"Sane, you worthless squishie!!  And once you free me -- I shall make it 
my everlasting goal to slaughter every single one of you pathetic 
squishies!!!  I will paint this world with your blood!!!!  So, swears 
Dumpster-TRON!!!!!"

"Uhuh.  Sign here.  And you?" said the guard to the supervillain dressed 
in a costume made up of the pages of JONG #7.  The villain known as 
The-Villain-That-Would-Have-Appeared-In-JONG-#7-If-The-Writer-Had-Bothered-to-Write-That-Far! 
  "Sane -- Insane?"

"Sane!!  Umm.  No, wait!  I meant insane!!  Wait!!  No!!  I mean -- 
Sane?  Right?  That's the correct answer, right?"


                           ** LAST ISSUE!!! **


"Wow!  A bus!" said Plum Master who was being escorted with a number of 
other supervillains towards it.  "Is that our bus?"

"Dumpster-TRON hates buses!!!" said Dumpster-TRON not exactly thrilled 
that he'd be taking a bus ride.

"Ooh!  Firsts on the Front Seat!  Front Seat!!" shouted a man wearing a 
labcoat covered in 'F's rushing onto the bus.  The Fiendish Dr. F!

"Hah!  My plan is going perfectly!!  First I managed to convince those 
gullible prison guards that I was a JONG villain -- and now I'm getting 
on a bus!!!!  Hahahahah!!!!" cackled 
Greatest-Most-Awesome-LNH-Villain-Ever Master Man.  And then a bit of 
sadness washed into his face.  "Just wish Charlie Sheen was alive to see 
this."

A really large woman that looked a bit like 'Throw Mama From the Train' 
star Anne Ramsey stomped her way onto the bus.  "Stupid Socialist Bus! 
A Commie form of Trasportation!!  Country's going to Hell!  Damn Obama 
Care Death Panels!!!  Ron Paul 2012!!!  Going to get my rent money from 
my commie son and that commie whore he's sleeping with!!  From his damn 
Commie father too!!!  If it's the last thing I do!!!!  Coming for you, 
Grue!!!!  Coming for you!!!!  Damn Commies!!!!"  Land Lady sat down and 
lit herself a cigar as she muttered away.

A man in a robe covered in tattoos depicting every single in-continuity 
RACC story shook his head.  "People!  This is an Elsewhirl!  Everything 
that happens in it is meaningless!  This whole  bus trip is going to be 
meaningless no matter what happens!  God.  Doesn't that bother you 
people?"  Continuity Porn Star sighed.

"Fourth Wallower Even More Powerful!!!" pointed out Fourth Wallower as 
it sat down.

"How about a sing-along?" said Plum Master.  "We could all sing Yoko Ono 
songs during the trip.  Umm.  I mean -- I mean the plums want to sing 
Yoko Ono songs -- not me!  The Plums!!  I don't like Yoko Ono -- the 
plums like her!  You've gotta believe me, guys!!!  Guys??"

"A vun, and a two, and a..." said the Robot with Lawrence Welk's Brain 
taking out his accordion.

As all the supervillains had finally seated themselves, the bus driver 
closed the vehicle's door.  He took a glance back and then grabbed a 
bottle from out of a paper bag.  This was going to be a long trip. 
Better get ready for it, he thought unscrewing a bottle.  He slugged 
back the econo-size bottle of Moono's Liquor World Brand Rot Gut.

There had once been a time long ago, when he had been an LNH 
receptionist.  A receptionist by the name of Buddy the 
Hard-Drinking-Liquored-Up LNH Receptionist.  But that was a lifetime 
ago.  Another Age.

Now he was a bus driver. Buddy the Hard-Drinking-Liquored-Up Bus Driver.


                           ** LAST ISSUE!!! **

Net.ropolis! --

Namer Boy eyes opened up.  Where was he?  He looked at the clothes he 
was wearing.  Why was he wearing these fancy duds?  Namer Boy began to 
rise from the bed he had been laying on when You're Not Hitting Me Hard 
Enough Lad glided into the room.  You're Not Hitting Me Hard Enough Lad 
was attired in a tux and a top hat and had a monocle over one eye.

"You're Not Hitting Me Hard Enough Lad!?  You're alive!"

"But of course, old chap," said You're Not Hitting Me Hard Enough Lad 
taking a pipe out of his mouth.  "Jolly good to see that you're up and 
about.  Very messy business -- that Nacho the Leaping Nacho affair. 
Very unpleasant."

"But I saw it kill you!  You and all the rest of the..."

"Nonsense."  You're Not Hitting Me Hard Enough Lad thumped his chest. 
"Fit as a fiddle.  Nothing the old Sophistication Ray couldn't clear up. 
  Better than new."

"The Sophistication Ray?"

"Yes.  Let's just say that it's a way to tame the more barbaric and 
vulgar elements that are infecting this great world of ours."

"I see."

"Yes.  Our benefactor will enlighten you with more tantalizing details 
of this grand scheme to elevate this dear realm we exist on -- to pluck 
it away from those that would sully it with their lowbrow high jinks. 
But first, if you may pardon me, would you by chance have any -- dare I 
say -- Mr. Paprika Poupon?"

Namer Boy started to shake his head.  And then he noticed something. 
There was a silver platter next to him.  A silver platter with something 
on it.  A fancy glass pitcher of Mr. Paprik Poupon.  And try as he 
might, he just couldn't resist saying, "But of course!"


                           ** LAST ISSUE!!! **


Washington, DC! --
The Moono's Liquor World White House! --

"It's not the Slobbering Grue!, Mr. President!  This one calls himself 
-- The Sophisticated Grue!"

"They're all the same!" spat President Self-Righteous Preacher.

"Perhaps, but the info we got from our top guys says that this Grue is 
from someplace called the -- what was it?  Oh, yes!  The Oddball 
Looniverse!  And this being before he got here had been busy conquering 
and enslaving a number of other Looniverses!  This is big!!"

The Oddball Looniverse?  Yes, thought the Preacher, He remembered 
something like that.  He had met a counterpart from.  What was his name, 
Ralph Tight [A profane word!] Peacher?  Something blasphemous like that! 
  "It's a perversion, this Looniverse!  It mocks our One True Looniverse 
by even existing!!  It must end!  I must stop this abomination!!!!"

The Preacher grabbed a bible and a cross.  And then he walked out of the 
Oval Office.

                           ** LAST ISSUE!!! **

Sarge and Kid watched as the Preacher stomped away.  "Should we stop 
him?" said Kid, "I mean considering since we're secret service agents 
assigned to protect the President?"

"Kid, Kid, Kid," said Sarge shaking his head with a grin.  "That's the 
first thing an assassin expects!  They expect you to protect the 
President!  No.  You got to get in their heads.  Do the things that they 
don't expect if you want to get the drop on them!  That's why you don't 
protect the President!  And when an assassin sees how you're totally not 
protecting the President, it screws with their mind.  They don't know 
what's going on!  And then BAM!  You got them!  And you've just saved 
the President's life.  And they have a parade in your honor."

"Wow.  I feel really stupid!"

"Don't beat yourself, Kid," Sarge said patting his young protege on the 
back.  "Happens to the best of us."

"Thanks, Sarge!  Man, speaking of assassins -- remember that case way 
back when?"

"Case?"

"Yeah.  It involved a cat.  A cat with glasses.  [Ed note:  See the NTB 
one-shot 'Who Killed the Cat with Glasses?']"

"Let's not talk about that.  Ancient history."

"But I always can't help but wonder about that case.  It was like we 
were getting close to something.  Some truth..."

"I don't want to talk about this!"

"But why?  Why are scared to talk about it?  It's..."

"Brad Pitt isn't cool!!!  He just isn't!!!!!"

"I wasn't talking about that.  Although he is very cool.  I was talking 
about something else.  It was like this realization about us..."

"Kid!"

"How we were connected in some way.  Deeper than friends.  Deeper than 
family.  Deeper than lovers..."

"Kid!!!!"

"Deeper than twins.  Can't you feel it, Sarge?  How we're..."

"I'm not listening to this!"

"...We always seem to be in the same place at the same time?  How we 
have the same beliefs about everything.  The same dreams.  The same..."

"I'm not listening," said Sarge covering both ears with his hands. 
"Lalallalalalalalal!!!!  Not listening!  Not listening!!!"

"The same everything?  About the only really significant difference 
between the two of us is our opinion of whether Brad Pitt is cool."

"Lalalalallalalal!!!  Brad Pitt is Lame!!  Lalalalallalalalalala!! 
Still not listening!!!!"


                           ** LAST ISSUE!!! **


Somewhere! --

A man staring at a monitor in a dark room gazed at Sarge and Kid having 
a conversation.  His hand holding a joystick tightly began to tremble. 
A bit of drool dripped from his mouth and ran down his chin.



                           ** LAST ISSUE!!! **

Washington, DC! --
The Moono's Liquor World National Nuclear Missile Launching Facility! --

"Are you sure you want to do this, sir?" said one of the military 
personnel that had helped President Self-Righteous Preacher onto the 
nuclear missile saddle.  "I don't think this is a very good idea, sir. 
I mean..."

"Don't worry, my son," said the Preacher straddling the nuclear missile. 
  In one hand, he had a bible.  In the other, he had a gigantic cross. 
"God rides with me!  Begin the launch Code!!"

"If you say so," shrugged the military man as he hopped into a jeep.

And the Preacher began to pray.


                           ** LAST ISSUE!!! **

The wind roared through the Preacher's hair.  The hat that he'd been 
wearing was long gone.  But as loud as the wind was, it could not drown 
out the words that thundered out of the Preacher mouth as he rocketed 
towards his final destination.  His hands strangled the Bible and Cross 
he was holding.  And finally he could see it.  The Spaceship.  The 
Ungodly Obscenity that was violating the sky with its sinful presence!

He would wipe this atrocity with this Sword of Righteousness he was 
riding on.  He would send it back to hell that it had crawled out of!

And as he got closer and closer, he remembered something.  Something he 
had long forgotten.  It was a name.  A devilish name.  A name of a 
temptress.  A siren.  It was a cat girl's name.

And right before he hit the space ship, he screamed the name out. 
"PANTA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"  It would be the last thing he would ever 
say.

And then the Preacher for the first time in his whole entire life had 
something.  Something that he had never had before.

He had an orgasm.


                           ** LAST ISSUE!!! **

A short green toad like man wearing a tuxedo and top hat watched the 
exploding missile light up the sky.

"Ho hum," the Sophisticated Grue! said as he sipped the cognac he was 
holding.  "How completely uncivilized.  Really."  He shook his head and 
took another sip.


                           ** LAST ISSUE!!! **

Espayola, Net.Mexico! --

Tears streamed down the face Non-Judgmental Agnostic.  Her eyes avoided 
the TV that was blaring away with the news story about her father's death.

"I'm sorry," said Slobbering Grue Jr! trying his best to comfort her. 
"I didn't like him, but I never wanted this."

Her nose sniffed.  "I know.  I can't -- cant't!  God.  There was so much 
I wanted to..." She paused as if lost in thought.  "It's too late now."

Slobbering Grue Jr! put his arms around her.  "He loved you."

"I -- I don't know."

Slobbering Grue Jr! gazed at the TV.  "I need to stop this.  Stop him!"

"Is he your -- your father?"

"No.  My father would never wear a tux.  No, I don't know who he is. 
Some pretender.  Some -- I've got to stop it."

"No.  Please.  Don't go.  Stay here.  I need you.  Please."

"I'll stay.  Probably couldn't do anything worthwhile anyways." 
Slobbering Grue Jr! sighed to himself.  "God.  Our parents sure screwed 
us up.  Never wanted to be a superhero.  Just wanted to watch TV.  Watch 
TV forever.  Get paid to watch TV.  Why can't that happen?"

Non Judgmental-Agnostic grabbed a tissue and blew her nose.  "Well.  You 
never know.  Maybe the dreams of everyone will come true some day.  Even 
ours."

Slobbering Grue Jr! brushed his fingers along her hair.  "Who cares 
about tomorrow...?"


                           ** LAST ISSUE!!! **

A Net.Mexico highway! --

"Well.  This guy is plumb dead," said Sarge kicking a plum out of the 
hand of the corpse.

"That guy?" said Kid.  "Isn't he, Plum Master?  God.  What happened 
here?"  Kid looked at the rolled over bus and all the corpses of dead 
supervillains.

Sarge looked at the body of the bus driver.  The bus driver's head had a 
bottle of Econo Size Moono's Liquor World Bran Rot Gut embedded into his 
head.  Sarge dipped his finger on the bus driver and then tasted it. 
"Hmm.  Econo Size Moono's Liquor World Bran Rot Gut.  Something happened 
here.  Maybe these liquor bottles became sentient and attacked the bus 
driver causing the bus to crash.  Who knows.  This maybe one of those 
mysteries that no one ever solves."

"Or maybe the bus driver was really drunk and couldn't drive the bus 
that well because..."

"Kid, Kid, Kid," Sarge smiled shaking his head.  "You've been watching 
to many cartoons.  It's never that simple.  Never."

"I guess you're probably right, Sarge.  Say, is it just me, or is it 
kind of weird how we were like Secret Service Agents in D.C. and now 
we're like highway patrol men or something?"

"Kid.  This is an issue of JONG.  It doesn't live by those boring 
storytelling rules that your typical unimaginative periodicals exist by. 
  No.  It dares its readers to come up with their own clever 
explanations of why what they're reading isn't completely horrible 
storytelling."

"Wow.  I didn't know that."

"Let it be a lesson to grow on," said Sarge as he chomped on Plum 
Master's mental therapist plum.


                           ** LAST ISSUE!!! **

Somewhere! --

"How's he doing?" said a man in a snazzy business suit.  His eyes were 
locked onto the monitor man.  The monitor man began moving the joystick.

"He's still trapped in the game, Mr. Velk.  He can't figure it out.  How 
to win.  Or how to get out of it.  Now it looks like he's bringing back 
the Grue."

"The Sophisticated Grue?"

"No.  The other one.  The Slobbering One."

"Why?  That's stupid!  He can't win that way!  God.  This is a total 
waste.  I thought this was going to be the one for sure.  Another failure."

"Should we pull the plug?"

"No.  Let's wait.  See how this plays out."  Mr. Velk President of the 
JONG Company stroked his beard as he watched the man continue to move 
the joystick.

And the man, the man holding the joystick and looking into the monitor, 
seemed oblivious to everything around him.  This man named Sgt. Kidd.

He continued to play.


                           ** LAST ISSUE!!! **

The Star Ship 'High Society' hovering over Net.ropolis! --


The Sophisticated Grue played with his monocle as he gazed at the city 
beneath him.  Soon he would refine this unmannered world.  He would 
groom it into a more elegant graceful place.  And then onto the next 
world and the next world.  Civilize everything!

"Sir?"  It was the voice of his manservant.  "A package for you..."

"Yes, yes.  Place it over there and open it," he said not making eye 
contact with the servant even once.  He took another sip from his cognac.

"Very good, sir."  The manservant picked some special fancy package 
opening knife off of the silver platter he was holding and got to work 
opening the package.  And then he opened it and looked inside.  His face 
became very pale.  "Oh, dear lord!" he said stepping away from the package.

"Well.  What is it?" said the Sophisticated Grue! in a bored slightly 
irritated voice.

And then he heard this incredibly loud burping sound.  And a few other 
noises that sounded very disgusting.  He quickly turned around.  "What 
is the meaning of this!?"

And out of the package popped a slime green toad like man wearing 
striped boxers that looked like they had never ever been washed even 
once in there many decades of use.  The One.  The Only.  The Slobbering 
Grue!  "Dude.  About time.  These popcorn thingees don't taste very 
good."  He spat out some little styrofoam pieces out of his mouth.  "Got 
any corn dogs?  Or -- hey, how about some deepfried Mr. Paprika Poupon?"

The Sophisticated Grue! held a scented handkerchief underneath his nose. 
  "So.  I presume you're my counterpart on this world.  How gauche.  Did 
they really expect YOU of all people would be able to thwart me -- to 
spoil my plans?  It's too late.  Much too late for that."

"What?  I'm supposed to stop you?  Man, that Writer never fills me in on 
anything!  I thought I was here for free Corn Dogs.  Speaking of which 
-- where are the Corn Dogs?  I'm getting a little hungry here.  And I'm 
told they're free!"  The Slobbering Grue!'s belly began to growl.

"You see that over there?"  The Sophisticated Grue! pointed to a screen 
that displayed numbers counting down.  "When that finally reaches zero a 
pulse from my Sophistication Ray shall spread all across this Looniverse 
of yours!  It will wipe away the tacky boorish drivel that blights this 
world of yours.  Erasing it for all time and replacing it with a more 
tasteful classy culture.  The high culture shall become all culture!"

The Slobbering Grue! yawned.  "Man, this story is really getting boring! 
  Say, does this place get free internet porn?"  He waddled over to one 
of the command panels.  "Which one of these buttons do I need to push to 
get to the free internet portn?  This one?"

"Enough!"  The Sophisticated Grue! took out his Sophistication Ray Cane 
and pointed it at the Slobbering Grue!  "It is time to expunge your 
presence from this world!"

The Sophisticated Grue!'s manservant stepped in between the two Grues. 
"I cannot allow that, sir!"  The manservant clutched the fancy package 
opening knife tightly in his fist.

"Have you completely lost your head?!  Move aside!"

But the manservant refused to budge.  "It's not right, this.  What 
you're doing.  I am..."  He looked at the knife in his hand.  "I'm not a 
servant!  I remember a past.  A past where I was something better than 
this."

"Move aside.  Or I will have to terminate you."

"I remember.  It was an issue of JONG.  It was so long ago.  That's 
where I started.  I was a newspaper boy.  And I was delivering a paper 
to Mr. Slobbering Grue! over there [This happened in JONG PI -- Ed 
Note].  But I didn't want to be a paperboy.  I wanted to stab people.  I 
wanted to stab people with knives!  And that's the day I stopped being a 
paperboy.  That's the day I became..."  And the manservant pulled off 
his manservant mask.  "KNIFE FIGHT DUDE!!!!!!!!!!  It's KNIFE FIGHT 
TIME!!!!!!!!!"  And he plunged the fancy package knife right into the 
Sophisticated Grue!'s body.

The Sophisticated Grue! looked at the blood stain that was growing on 
his swanky tux.  He stood back up and looked at Knife Fight Dude.  "Do 
you think this can stop me?  DO you think one knife wound can stop one 
such as I?!!!  THIS is NOTHING!!!!!!!  NOTHING!!!!!!"

"Hmm," nodded Knife Fight Dude.  "You're probably right."  And with that 
Knife Fight Dude plunged his knife into the Sophisticated Grue! several 
more times for good measure.

"That should probably do it."  He looked at the Slobbering Grue!  "What 
do you think?"

"Looks dead to me."  The Slobbering Grue! looked at his watch.  "I 
wonder what's taking those Free Corn Dogs so long.  Where did that 
manservant go?"

And then a motorcycle came sailing into the room landing to a screeching 
halt.  The motorcyclist took off his helmet.  "Am I too late!?  Has it 
already happened?!"  Building Suspense Lad (with an eye patch) rushed 
over to the command panel.  He looked at the display screen.  "There's 
still time!!!  But not much!!  Got to stop this!!  Got to!!!!"  He began 
to madly push buttons.

"If you're trying to find the Free Internet Porn button -- I'm not sure, 
which one it is either," said Slobbering Grue! trying to be helpful. 
"Maybe that one?"

"No!  No!  Got to stop the Sophistication RAY!!"  Building Suspense Lad 
continued to wildly hit every button.  But the numbers still kept coming 
down.  Building Suspense Lad hit one of the panels in frustration.  And 
then regretted doing that very much.  "Oh, Lord!  Broke my hand!  Broke 
my hand!!  Owww!  Owwww!!!"

Ten.

Nine.

"You've got to stop it," said Knife Fight Dude looking down at 
Slobbering Grue!  "This is what you were meant to do.  You have to do it."

Seven.

Six.

"Me?" said Slobbering Grue!  "What about the Free Corn Dogs?"

Five.

"There will never be any more Free Corns Dogs if you don't do this."

Three.

"Never?"

Two.

"You can do it."

One.

And Slobbering! knew what he had to do.  And all time stopped.  Except 
for the Slobbering Grue! who began floating in space like some kind of 
cosmic Buddha.

He knew what he had to do.

"It's booka time."


                           ** LAST ISSUE!!! **


And deep inside the Slobbering Grue!'s nose an alarm bell rang.

Two nose hairs by the name of Sam and Ted work up.

"Oh, shit.  Not this again," said Ted the nose hair putting on his raincoat.



                           ** LAST ISSUE!!! **


Saliva like a super nova began to pour out of the Grue!'s body.  The 
Saliva Force began to merge with everything -- even the Sophistication 
Ray.  The Saliva Wave swept its way over the world.  And then beyond the 
world.  Beyond the solar system.  Beyond the Milky Way Galaxy.  Faster 
than light.  Faster than anything.

As the saliva poured out of Slobbering!'s body, it began to tear apart 
from the stress of the gushing liquid.  Soon there was no body.

Just saliva.

And Rolf Harris's 'Tie Me Kangaroo Down, Sport' played away in the 
background.

                           ** LAST ISSUE!!! **

The Fourth Wall! --

The Mechanical Author's eyes began to glow.  Finally after decades of 
waiting for his energies to recharge, he had enough power to break free 
from his prison.  He flexed his perfect mechanical muscles and the 
Fourth Wall shattered around his perfect mechanical body.  He dusted 
various bits of Fourth Wall off of him.  And then he looked all around him.

It was time.  Time for the Perfect Story to resume!  And this new 
Chapter of the Perfect Story would begin with him slaying all those that 
had put him here.  He'd start with that Marc Singer guy.

And then his Perfect Mechanical Eyes spotted something.  Something 
coming very fast towards him.  It looked like a liquid?  What was it? 
And then it dawned on him what it was.

Oh no, was the last thought of the Mechanical Author.


                           ** LAST ISSUE!!! **

Somewhere! --

Mr. Velk stared in horror at the monitor.  "That's not possible!  It 
can't be!"  He looked at a liquid slowly drizzling out of the computer 
equipment.  Sgt. Kidd was still moving the joystick.  "This is just a 
game!  This is not real!!"

And then the monitor screen began to crack.  And there was a gush that 
poured out of the monitor crushing all those in its path.

Brad Pitt is, was Sgt. Kidd's last thought.


                           ** LAST ISSUE!!! **

Espayola, Net.Mexico in the -- 69th CENTURY!

Sarge snapped the Virtual.Thingee goggle.thingees off of Kid.  "God. 
You're not still playing that stupid game!  That game where we're this 
cop who has multi-personality disorder who's playing some stupid video 
game call Jong #69!  God, that's a creepy game!"

"But it's fun, Sarge!  It's like a -- umm..."

"Lame.  That' the word you're searching for.  Almost as lame as Brad Pitt."

"Sarge.  Why can't you stop hating Brad Pitt?  We're living in a utopia! 
  It's time to move on."

"Maybe a utopia for you with its no one ever dies, gets hurt, has to do 
anything they don't want to do -- nonsense.  But I don't know.  It's 
just starting to get boring.  I miss the old days.  When things used to 
matter."

"Maybe we could play a Virtual.Thingee Game?  How about something from 
the past?  Maybe JONG #1?  We could play ourselves hunting down the 
Slobbering Grue!  I would be like it was back then.  1993.  Espanola."

"Nah.  Wouldn't be the same.  Just not real.  I don't know.  I've been 
thinking lately.  I shouldn't be alive, Kid.  I've lived too long. 
Maybe I just wasn't cut out to be an immortal.  I belong in the past.  A 
world where a cop could crack the skull of a mime and call it justice. 
Not in this world where you can't do anything while mimes roam the 
streets because it's their lifestyle choice or whatever they call..."

"You just need to..."  But before Kid could finish with that thought a 
flash of light flooded the room.

A naked man crackling with flame stood in the center of the room.  "You 
say you're bored with this utopia, do you?"

"What's it to you, buddy?"  Sarge would have arrested him, but sadly it 
was perfectly legal to walk around naked crackling with flame in this 
day and age.

"I have a solution to your problem.  And my name?  My name is -- The 
Kumpooter-MAN!"

And then something appeared in his hand.

It was a stick of juicy fruit gum.



                           ** LAST ISSUE!!! **

The Afterlife! --

Self-Righteous Preacher looked at the bookshelf in his room.  It was 
amazing.  He brushed his hand across the books.  Each one bound in gold. 
  There was a book here that depicted each day of the life of every 
single person that had ever been in the Bible.  Each one!

And they had pictures of what these historical figures had looked like. 
  They also had stats for all of them.  He could know every single meal 
they had ever had.  And he could also know how much they could bench press.

Self-Righteous grabbed a book off the shelf.  And apparently there were 
even volumes that were devoted to what God had been doing before he had 
created the Looniverse.  The Preacher looked at the volume in his hand. 
  Before the Bible:  Volume One.  Amazing!

He looked at the shelf.  It would take him forever to read all of these. 
  But he had plenty of time.  Plenty of time.

The Preacher walked back to his bed.  It seemed strange.  This wasn't 
how he had pictured heaven being like.  Still, he was glad that the Holy 
Father had allowed him to be here.  Had forgiven him for that last 
sinful act he had committed before he died.

The Preacher put his head on a pillow.  And then he opened to the first 
page.  And then he heard a knock.

Hmm.  Who could that possibly be?  He put the book down, got off the 
bed, and walked over to the door.

He opened it and then he looked outside.  Not seeing anything, he was 
about to close it and then his eyes moved down.

There was Slobbering Grue! with two suitcases in his arms.  "Hey! 
Preachy!  Guess who your new roommate is?  Come on!  Take a guess!"

The Slobbering Grue! winked to the reader.





FIN


                           ** LAST ISSUE!!! **

Credit:

Self-Righteous Preacher -- wReam
Sgt. Kidd -- Saxon Brenton
Chuggernaut -- Arthur Spitzer and Jeff McCoskey
Dumpster-TRON -- Arthur Spitzer and Dave Van Domelen
Dr. F -- Arthur Spitzer and Saxon Brenton
Mechanical Author -- Arthur Spitzer, Steven Howard, and Marc Singer
The Robot with Lawrence Welk's Brain -- Arthur Spitzer and Tim Munn
Leaping Nacho Hurter and Goggles Guy -- Arthur Spitzer and Wil Alambre

Namer Boy, Pulls-Paper-Out-of-Hats Lad, You're Not Hitting Me Hard 
Enough Lad, Ubiquitous Boy Lad Jr., Sarge and Kid, Plum Master, 
Slobbering Grue! Jr., Non Judgmental Agnostic, Knife Fight Dude, 
Building Suspense Lad, Sophisticated Grue!, Mr. Velk, Kumpooter-MAN, 
Sam, Ted, Kid Kicked Out, Cherry and Salsa Jr., Cockroach Las Vegas, The 
SKATE, Foreshadowing Lad, Land Lady, Continuity Porn Star, The Fourth 
Wallower, 
The-Villain-That-Would-Have-Appeared-In-JONG-#7-If-The-Writer-Had-Bothered-to-Write-That-Far, 
Nacho the Leaping Nacho, Greatest-Most-Awesome-LNH-Villain-Ever Master 
Man, Buddy the Hard-Drinking-Liquored-Up LNH Receptionist, and the 
Slobbering Grue! -- Arthur Spitzer

Mentioned:
Panta -- Hubert Bartels
Ultimate Ninja -- wReam
Fearless Leader -- Dave Van Domelen
WikiBoy -- Tom Russell
Catalyst Lass -- Elisabeth Riba
Kid Kirby -- H. Jameel al Khafiz
Captain Continuity -- Mystic Mongoose
Easily Discovered Man -- Rob Rogers
Even-Though-He'd-Really-Suck-As-LNH-Leader-He'd-Still-Be-A-Way-Better-Choice-Than-Namer-Boy 
Boy, Saviors of the NET, Holiday Miracle Pets, and 
Saxon-Brenton-Will-Write-the-Brother-of-So-Lame-Even-Saxon-Brenton-Wouldn't-Use-Him-In-A-Story-Lad-When-Hell-Freezes-Over 
Lad -- Arthur Spitzer and various.


Writer's Notes:  Man.  Writing Jong again.

Way back in January, 1999 I wrote a solicitation for this issue.

Here's what I wrote:

"JONG #6:  Wait isn't this series cancelled?  Oh, yeah.. probably never
got around to doing that.  Anyway assuming I ever get this written, this
will most likely be the last issue.  I'll try to tie up all the
remaining plot lines (except the ones that I don't like which I will
conveniently ignore).  It most likely will be a parody of Moore's
'Whatever happened to the Man of Tomorrow?'  set ten years in the LNH
future with a parody (rip-off?) of Spider Jerusalem forced on an
assignment by a vidictive editor to find what really happened to the
Drooling Crusader.  Probably will have various LNH cameos assuming I can
get permission.  The working title: 'Who Cares About Tomorrow's Drool?'
It will be an 'Elsewhirl'.  But then again aren't they all? (Well except
Dvandom Force and.. umm nevermind)."

I started to write some of it way back then and then I gave up on it. 
The plot I had for it way back when was different.  It was more like 
Beige Midnight #9 although a lot bloodier.

Part of why I never bothered to write it was because I wanted to make it 
the greatest thing ever (which is also why I couldn't finish the 
original Jong #6 that I had plotted way back in '96).  There for the 
only way I could ever possibly write this would be instead to try and 
make this the worst issue of Jong ever.  And that's what I did.

So this isn't the greatest thing I ever wrote, but it's not the worst 
thing either.  I kind of wish this was a lot better, but it is what it is.

There's a lot of references to stuff that appeared in Old Jong issues. 
The Kumpooter-Man (that sounds kind of dirty, doesn't it?) appears in 
the last story in Jong #2 so you'll probably need to read that to make 
sense of his appearance in this story.  The SKATE was a character that 
was supposed to appear as a backup story in Jong #3, but didn't ever 
appear.  And there is stuff that probably only I understand.

The Sarge and Kid being some guy named Sgt. Kidd was inspired by Saxon 
(who came up with Sgt. Kidd because he misheard Sarge and Kid when we 
were writing 'Who Killed the Cat with Glasses?") and Rob (who wrote a 
scene in 'WKtCwG', which seemed to be suggesting that Sgt. Kidd had 
multiple personality disorder).

And there's a bunch of other stuff that I should explain, but won't.

Hopefully, someone reading this will kind of enjoy it for what it is.

Arthur "Not the Longest Issue of Jong!" Spitzer