LNH/LUNA: WikiLull #13: "Pitt Brother Against Brother"
pwerdna at gmail.com
Fri Aug 5 20:57:23 PDT 2016
WikiCide held the Last Trenchcoat high in the air. From within its rumples and
well-worn creases, darkness swelled, and the eerie high screech of ripping
reality shivered through the air... and then, with the "pyewww" of a monitor
shutting off, faded.
"What the..." WikiCide shook the coat. "C'mon, c'mon! Dark Usenet, take me to
the forbidden FAQs! C'mon!"
Kristen Stewart shook her head. "It’s always sad when someone breaks into the
biz but just can’t take the pressure."
"...so, I'm taking this back," said Amnesiac Brad Pitt, grabbing for the trenchcoat.
WikiCide meeped and bounced out of the way, tucking the trenchcoat under one
arm. "Um… Deathspork, good job with the assassining. Keep it up!" He gave
Deathspork a big double-thumbs-up and vamoosed.
"Hey!" said Deathspork. "You still haven’t paid--"
But WikiCide was already out of there, running towards the flickering fireball
of the LNHQ. He could feel the susurration as different versions of reality
broke upon each other, like his own edits but on a massive and continual scale.
But there was a calm point, where he could stop, regroup and contact his allies…
WikiCide slipped through the half-exploded doorway and into the
quantum-stabilized lobby. Then his eyes went wide and he ducked and rolled, as a
projectile shot past him and fully exploded the doorway in a burst of shredding
He rolled and rolled until he rolled behind a table. He collapsed against it,
breathing heavily, as some kind of pitched battle between technology, sorcery,
and coolness raged in the background. It was then that the bowl of apples on the
table started talking to him. "Ally WikiCide, there is a problem."
WikiCide fought down the urge to return to fleeing. "Yes, Quadcore, I had
noticed that." A wave of disorientation rolled over him, and he rubbed his
temples. "The plan didn’t work - not very well, anyway; I see *you* got through."
"The portal only opened for brief moments," said the
four-fruits-in-a-bowl-shaped MicroMAC. "The vanguard of the Pocket Empire came
through, but our larger army is trapped on the other side."
WikiCide snorted in disdain. "Well, I suppose that’s *something*. But what went
wrong? Whilst I was edited into being a master of the mystic arts, my researches
showed clearly that the iconic power of the Net.Trenchcoat Brigade - power
enough to accomplish my most ambitious schemes - had all collected in the Last
Quadcore’s apple sensor array whirred, processing exotic data streams. "The
mythopoeic fabric of The Last Trenchcoat has undergone quantum decoherence. The
wearer, Brad Pitt, was split into millions of quantum duplicates, and the power
of the trenchcoat spread among them."
"Curses!" muttered WikiCide, rubbing his temples again. How was he supposed to
live up to his potential as an evil duplicate if he couldn’t duplicate the
successes of the great Acton Lord? He was supposed to summon an army of robots
from another world, who would betray him, but go on to be defeated by the heroes
in a way that advanced his long-term plans. Admittedly, he hadn’t figured out
that last part yet, but one thing at a time.
And the worst part was this strange disorientation that had started affecting
him as soon as he entered the lobby - like crackling feedback through his
WikiBoy the Tachikoma buzzed, dancing on his adorable little legs to avoid the
whizzing bursts of magic and scuttling behind the receptionist’s desk, where
Token Girl was already hiding.
"Beep boop! Error detected!"
She sighed and rubbed his dome. "Don’t worry. I figure this is the kind of thing
she has to get out of her system on her own."
WikiBoy wanted to say that wasn’t what he meant - that he had detected a strange
interference effect in his wikipowers - but the writer had never seen Stand
Alone Complex and couldn’t duplicate the tachikomas’ speaking patterns, so all
he said was "Boop!" in an adorable way.
Merissa wiped the sweat from her brow. She had upgraded from gun-keyblades to
gunbass-keybladetars, but even the Power of Rock was being cancelled out by Kid
Occultism Kid’s magical might. She grinned. Wow, if this was how hard the first
boss was, she couldn’t wait for the EX-boss!
"And another thing!" shouted the sorcerex, rune circles forming around their
upraised hands. "The whole ‘ten percent of your brain’ thing? Totally fake! I--"
Suddenly, the circles turned an eye-searing blue. Kid Occultism Kid shouted and
ducked, and Merissa had only a moment to fire a bass-guitar-rock-defense-shield
at herself before they exploded with an earth-shaking kaboom.
There was a moment of utter silence, before the subtle popcorn-kettle noises of
the LNHQ exploding and unexploding returned. Token Girl peeked over the
receptionist’s desk, and the WikiKoma peered around the side.
Merissa blinked, her face covered in ash, her hair sticking out every which way.
"Hah," she said woozily. "W’zat your final attack, my health bar inn’t even half
gone…" She coughed out a little puff of smoke, and reached up to pat out a small
flame that was smoldering atop her head.
"Indeed, our battle is over," said Kid Occultism Kid, dusting ash off their
robes. "A problem has arisen that dwarfs even the threat of Hollywood whitewashing."
Token Girl somersaulted out from behind the desk. "What's that?"
"Hilary Clinton has officially become the Democratic nominee for President of
the United States."
TG put a reassuring hand on KOK - wow, okay, I can see why Adrian didn't use
that acronym. Anyway, she put a hand on Kid Occultism Kid AKA the
Not-Yet-Ancient One’s shoulder. "Look, I understand if you were a Bernie
"Not that!" The NYAOne flailed out from under the hand and straightened up.
"Although, yes. But I am speaking of something deeper, something intrinsic to
the fabric of the Looniverse itself!" They started pacing and gesticulating as
they spoke. "The Legion of Net.Heroes was created in 1992, during the campaign
that lead to the initial Clinton presidency. The social satire of the time, then
as now, demanded engagement with politics, and as that administration went on,
no figure in politics was more divisive, nor more evocative of strong feelings,
than Hillary Clinton." They thrust out a hand dramatically, Ditko-pinup style.
"Such a perspective is part of the bedrock on which our castles rest!"
"Oh, yeah," said Token Girl. "Wasn’t there that evil alternate universe thing or
"Boop! Uncertainty as to whether that’s even in continuity anymore!" said the
"Whatever," said Merissa, brushing her hair back into place until the hairbrush
exploded. "Politics is boring if there’s no giant robots or dubstep cannons
involved. Anyway, I’d vote for a lady president."
"The problem is - which one!?" The NYAOne threw out both hands grandly. "For you
see, there are so many different interpretations of the woman, so many opinions
and feelings bubbling up out of the past and into the story, that in the
Usenetted States of Ame.rec.a, the 2016 presidential race shall be between four
different Hillary Clintons - and one of them is pure evil!"
Token Girl gasped. "I see… But what about Donald Trump?"
"Never heard of the guy."
"…huh. For a second there I thought there was another major candidate for
President, but I must have been thinking of someone else."
"Yeah, probably just someone who’s so deeply unworthy of attention that even
making fun of him would be giving him way too much credit so we should all just
ignore him and move on with our lives!!"
Everyone stopped and stared. Kid Review was standing there. For a moment, they
stared off into the distance, fists clenched, trembling with rage. Then they
snapped out of it, shaking their head and looking over at the main characters in
"Um… anyway, that’s my theory. Bye!" With a crackle of blue-white energy, they
"Hmmmmm," hmmm’d WikiCide, peering out from beneath the table. Very interesting
- but what did it have to do with this storyline?
In a converted industrial space on the outskirts of Net.ropolis, there was a
shadowy office. And in this shadowy office were two shadowy figures. And these
shadowy figures were plotting shadowy manipulation!
One shadowy figure held up a glowing tablet in the darkness. "Just as we
thought, an interference pattern has been detected."
The other steepled his fingers. "And just as we thought, our wayward clone is
behind the latest attack on the LNHQ." He adjusted his glasses as they glimmered
in the dark. "But that is not the most important thing at this juncture."
"Indeed!" The first figure tapped a button, and a 3D model of WikiBoy sprung
into the air, with various readouts hovering around him and CGI DNA strands
scrolling along nearby. "WikiBoy is potentially the most powerful member of the
Legion. But his edits are limited by the power of Comedy." He tapped another
button, and the DNA strand zoomed in. A second one started scrolling alongside
it, similar but with slight differences. "So far, our clonemongers have not been
able to change that. But we have engineered a comedically appropriate situation
to insert our prototype."
"Yes," said the second figure. "And in mere moments, the plan will begin, and
the momentum will build for us to seize power!"
The first figure flicked on a light and stepped into it. He was ruggedly
handsome and very familiar, with a perpetual five-o-clock shadow, and wore a
trenchcoat with a lab coat over it. The second stood and stepped into the light
as well. He was identical, but his trenchcoat was worn over a sharp three-piece
"I-- Evil Scientific Mastermind Brad Pitt!" said the first.
"And I-- Shadowy Political Manipulator Brad Pitt!" said the second.
"And I-- Bad Judgment Boy!"
"Will gain power over… the…"
Both of them blinked at the new person standing in the light.
"…what are you doing here?" said Evil Scientific Mastermind Brad Pitt.
"…I just wanted to be a part of things…"
Shadowy Political Manipulator Brad Pitt sighed and crossed over to the door.
"Guards!" ESMBPitt pushed Bad Judgment Boy over, and SPMBPitt grabbed him and
pushed him out the door. "Find out how he got in here, then take him to the
cloning pits and see if we can extract something useful."
"Okay, sir. Can I have your autograph?"
"Yes, yes…" SPMBPitt took the notebook and wrote, 'To Netwater Security
Contractors Guard #17745, Thanks For Being a Loyal Fan - Shadowy Political
Manipulator Brad Pitt'. "Now go!"
"Okay, sir. By the way, someone to see you, said he was 'the key to your master
"Ah! Yes, send him in, please…"
Yet another figure walked in. He looked like an affable middle-aged white man
with chubby cheeks and a receding hairline, but this face was naught but a mask
- an edit, holding back the clone degeneration of the *other* clone of WikiBoy -
"Excellent!" said ESMBPitt. "He is all prepared for the mission!"
"Then let it commence!" SPMBPitt reached out toward WiKaine and intoned, "You
are-- Hillary Clinton’s running mate!"
WiKaine felt the edit take hold. "But-- which one?"
"ALL OF THEM."
Author’s Notes: "EX-boss" is a Touhou reference, although the idea of secret
super-tough bosses that you have to jump through hoops to even get to is pretty
common in video games nowadays. Political giant robots = Metal Wolf Chaos.
Political dubstep cannons = Saints Row IV.
The idea that the power of Brad Pitt's trenchcoat would be spread among all the
Brad Pitts comes from Scott Eiler, who, I hope, does not mind me ripping it off.
17745 was my zip code back in college. That doesn’t have anything to do with
anything, but I thought I’d mention it.
Drew "I was going to include a neat Multi-Tasking Man idea but it didn’t really
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