LNH: Classic LNH Adventures #29: Retcon Hour OMEGA

Arthur Spitzer arspitzer2 at gmail.com
Wed Aug 17 17:44:29 PDT 2016


In this weeks reposting of stuff you can find in the eyrie archive
https://archives.eyrie.org/racc/lnh/
we have the tenth chunk of Retcon Hour.

And for the 25th issue we come to the big Retcon Hour finale
-- RETCON HOUR OMEGA -- an issue written by Joltin' Jeff McCoskey,
Matt "Badger" Rossi, Robert "Mystic Mongoose" Armstrong, and
Martin Phipps.  Enjoy!



              _						
             | |      Classic			
             | |                      =
             | |      ____    ____    _    ____    ___
             | |__   | [] |  | [] |  | |  | [] |  | _ \  

             |____|   \__]    \__ |  |_|   \__/   |_|\_\
                                 ||
                                |_|  OF NET.HEROES

                                     ADVENTURES #29


                         =====================
                           Retcon Hour OMEGA
                         =====================



From: Jeff J McCoskey <jjmcc at ix.netcom.com>
Newsgroups: rec.arts.comics.creative
Subject: LNH REPOST: RETCON HOUR OMEGA (TEB #9)
Date: 28 Feb 1997 17:44:58 -0800



Author Credits:  JJMcC, Matt Rossi, Martin Phipps, Robert Armstrong

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(<) (>) (<) (>) (<) (>) (<) (>) (<) (>) (<) (>) (<) (>) 
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(>)             RETCON HOUR PARTS 28-30             (<)
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(>)                RETCON HOUR OMEGA                (<)
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(<) (>) (<) (>) (<) (>) (<) (>) (<) (>) (<) (>) (<) (>) 



Brought to you by:

Joltin' Jeff McCoskey
The Badger
Martin "I don't have an animal name" Phipps
The Mystic Mongoose

VAMMO Woman and wReamicus Maximus created by wReam
Myk-El created by Mike Kelly
IMPLO created by Stirge
Legion of Occult Heroes created by Paul Hardy




                            Part I

     When last we left our intrepid cavalcade of characters, the
RACCelestial Madonna had been selected (VAMMO Woman...who'd have
made that call?) and was now serving as a "Living Anchor" for the
Looniverse.
     In the depths of space floated the Rac.ctre, grim and
ghostly spirit of comic-style justice. Currently, he was occupied
with several hundred earths he was attemping to keep from slamming into
each other. Now, he had tried juggling...he had tried cosmic
twister...and now, he was trying a new tactic. He was explaining
supply side economics to them.
     "And so, as you can plainly see from this chart, the wealthy
will allow their largess to _Trickle_ down like rainfall,..."
Suddenly the re-alignment of reality kicked into play, and with a
sound like Billy Crystal's agent trying to explain the logic behind
City Slickers 2, all the other earths were gone. Except one.
     "That's odd...when RACC reality overwhelmed the retcons...why
did Deadmeat Earth remain?" The Rac.ctre looked puzzled, which is
hard for grim grey ghosts, and then comprehension settled over his
features like the flimsy plot devide of a desperate author. "Ahh,
I see...Deadmeat Earth's destiny must be fulfilled. It must return
to the place which spawned it...LOONIVEARTH!"
     A blaze of multi-chromatic light flooded over the Rac.ctre's
hands, and as it spread over Deadmeat Earth the planet shimmered
into a ghostly after image, like the one that fills your eyes if
you try to figure out the plot to a Youngstud the Ravager comic.
Then, with a flourish Siegfried and Roy (Hello Siegfried! Hello
Roy!) would have been proud of, the energy that was Deadmeat Earth
was placed into Loonivearth.

     *    *         *    *         *    *         *    *

     "At the risk of sounding callous, does it really matter _why_
Contraption Man went evil?  Time itself is unravelling, wReamicus
Maximus has the Ring of Retcon and means to destroy all of Continuity.
It's not going to matter."  Dr. Stomper was uncharacteristically 
defeatist.
     Deductive Logic Man looked up from the computer screen and
pursed his lips.  "Logically, either we will or we won't defeat wReamicus
Maximus.  If we don't, you're right nothing here matters much at all.  
But if we do, we've got a lot of loose ends to clean up.  Contraption 
Man is among the biggest."
     "But how can you even investigate it?  I mean with rampant Retcons
history can fluctutuate from moment to moment."
     "There may be no consistent Time stream, but if we look at
the cause-and-effect chain, there is still a fairly strong Continuity.  
Look," the detective gestured at the screen.  "Contraption  Man built the 
Peril Room.  I've run all the diagnostics and there is no anomoly.  If he 
were evil from the start, what better way to strike at us than there?
     "Also, the Universal Anchor worked supremely well at it's job.  It
wasn't until later that the backfitting began.  Clearly, he was a Net.Hero
until _some point_.  We need to find that point."
     Dr. Stomper's eyes narrowed at the screen.  "You're right Ferris.
There's other inconsistancies as well.  Doesn't it seem unlikely that
Contraption Man was unable to build a machine to stabilize time by now?  
If he were working for Time Crapper, that would be the logical first
step."
     "Agreed," said Ferris with growing excitement.  "So why
didn't he build one?"

     *    *         *    *         *    *         *    *

     The subject of their investigation was at that moment receiving 
orders from his boss.  "Contraption Man!  The time is ripe!  The Ring is 
mine, slay Time Crapper and join me!  Our transcendance is at hand!"
     Contraption Man smiled a glowing smile.  "At last!  Thank you Lord
wReamicus!  Your servant will honor your wishes!"  CM took his
communicator off 'exclamation mode' then stripped it for parts as he
tinkered furiously.
     Time Crapper entered the bay, his hands nervously twitching.
     "Our plans have gone awry.  Not only did the RACCelestial Madonna
destroy your Time Combobulator, but I sense the time loop I put
over Drizztsat has been breached.  Worse, without the Combobulator, 
I can't Time Travel as freely.  You must build a machine that breaks
through the convoluted Time stream and sends me, uh us, home!"
     "Sorry TC.  I'm resigning from your employ.  Here's my termination
papers...."  The Gadget Guru depressed a button on the device in his hands.
A thin beam of light lanced out, directly at the pre Cry.Sig Crapper.
     "Eeep."  He said.  Just before it incenerated him, he
slipped ahead in time a few seconds, allowing the beam to travel beyond
him.
     "Wait a minute," said CM.  "You just said you couldn't Time
Travel freely."
     "He can't you Tinkering Turncoat, but I can!"  A horrendous
smell, not unlike a pile of caca from the future, filled the air.  
CM gasped for air and whirled about.  A duplicate of the Crapper, 
but with a ruddier complexion and nauseating odor, strode forward.
     "Wh-who are you?"
     The robed figure grabbed him by the collar.  "I'm Crap-man.
Ha, I've always wanted to say that, no actually I'm the POST-Cry.Sig
Crapper.  Since I come from the future, I remembered your treachery
and decided to come to the past to fix it.  My naive earlier self,"
he gestured at the confused and quivering pre-TC, "had no clue you were 
a secret agent of wReamicus Maximus..."
     "Hey!" said pre-TC to CM.
     post-TC continued.  "Since I know how all this will turn out, I have
decided to alter history in the only way that could change anything.  
Now is the time of the CRAPPER MERGING!"
     pre-TC was the first to realize what it meant.  Not
surprisingly, he began fleeing.
     "Oh don't be such a baby."  post-TC slipped time and caught
him, then began the merging of the two Crappers.
     What we mean by merging of two time masters, one composed
entirely of doody, is so nauseatingly gross, so horrendously vile 
that it's best to just cut away to....

     *    *         *    *    *    *    *         *    *

     Decibel Dude groaned as he peeled his sticky face off of the
floor. Apparently, he'd passed out after bringing the Tiara of
Density to the Pageant...and also apparently, nobody bothered to
wake him up or anything. His head felt like the inside of an
automatic laudry that someone put Roseanne's wardrobe on spin
inside.
     "Ohh...my throbbing brain...did someone named Joltin' Jeff
have something to do with this?"
     "Never mind the In-jokes, Decibel Dude, you have work to
do."
     D-Dude looked up. Standing there heavily armed, yet still
wearing the white costume with little black dots that bespoke his
retconning as RANCH-DRESSING MAN stood D-Dude's erstwhile maniac
partner, VIGILANTE GUY. Next to him was a grim and ghostly grey
guy in a hooded cape and a six armed red alien smoking some
indeterminate substance from a tremendous Hookah while sitting on
a mushroom.
     "ENTITY! V-GUY! GHOST I'VE NEVER MET!"
     "The Rac.ctre, at your service."
     "Nick, things are bad!" Said Vigilante-Dressing Guy. "Thanks
to Entity I've ALMOST overcome the affect of the retcon. I mean,
I still CRAVE a nice salad smothered in creamy delicous ranch,
but I no longer fight crime with it."
     "That's good to hear...and slightly disturbing."
     "You and your partner have an important task." Said the
Rac.ctre. "I must, unfortunately, intercede on this level against
wReamicus Maximus and his evil retcons. This will leave me unable
to prevent THE END OF ALL THAT IS."
     "Must be important to say it all in capital letters."
     "It is. I must send you and Vigilante-Dressing Guy to
Reverseworld, where good and evil are backwards. There, the LNH
is a capable organization of evil, rather than a bumbling group
of do-gooders."
     "HEY!" Yelled the two net.heroes. "We aren't BUMBLING.
Hapless, maybe, but not bumbling."
     "Unimportant. You must go and retrieve the greatest hero of
Reverseworld...Captain Seamus Oblivion. Only HE can help you in
the upcoming retcon war."
     "Woah...my enemy of my self is my friend."
     "That's not how that goes." Said Vigilante-Dressing Guy.
     "And now." The Rac.ctre did an impressive flourish with his
cape. "Off to Reverseworld with you." The two net.heroes vanished
without a chance to make any Star Trek references.
     Entity looked down from his mushroom. "Are you sure we
should have sent them?"
     "Would you rather have let them get involved in the main
plot? I still can't believe that Swordmaster hasn't been diverted
off to another universe by SOMEONE!"
     "Hey. I was busy." The two of them departed, heading for the
final battle with wReamicus.

     *    *         *    *    *    *    *         *    *

     The Legion of Occult Heroes. Proud mystic defenders against
all sorts of menaces, except  all the silly menaces were magical.
Green Trenchcoat, Demon Boy, Leviathan Lass, GrimLad and Mr.
Trenchcoat, fighting in their snazzy spandex costumes against
menaces like the Midnight Lurker, Ahhhch Peyyye the demon who
used Adjectives as weapons, and Dark Typeface, Master of Satanic
Fonts. The Legion bravely...
     "NO! None of that ever HAPPENED!" Screamed GrimLad/GrimSloth
as he whirled to face Green Trenchcoat. "I NEVER met ANY of you
but WithNail, and he ISN'T called Mr. Trenchcoat! It's a RETCON,
has to be!"
     "But..." Leviathan Lass began to tear up. "Don't you
remember all the good times?"
     "Mother Russia! Dere VERE'NT anyink good teems!" Yelled
WithNail, still helpless against the strange accents that were a
cosmic approximation of his own. "Nuthink you've sid akshuuly
huppeened! Yur allink jist ritcuns!"
     "Russian?" GrimLad was taken momentarily aback. "Was that
supposed to be Russian?"
     "I hate to interrupt, but we have more important things to
deal with than whether we actually exist or not." Demon Boy was
flipping through his Film Guide. "wReamicus Maximus has really
gotten himself one potent magic artifact, and in the words of
Marlon Brando, 'The Horror...The Horror.'"
     "Demon Boy...has anyone ever told you that you're quotes are
meaningless?"
     "I think Jean-Paul Sarte might have..."
     "Jean-Paul Sarte?" A loud, reverent tone of music sounded.
"JEAN-PAUL SARTE!" The LOH looked around at each other.
     "Ay Carumba!" Said Mr. Trenchcoat. "D'you tink dat anybody
will get dat injoke?"
     Demon Boy looked at him. "Sure. Blazing Saddles. Randolph
Scott. I'd say they'd get it."
     "Maybe too easily." Came a voice from behind them. They
whirled around to face this new menace, if menace it be. Standing
in heroicly appropriate yet weary poses were a man in a red and
black uniform, a ten foot tall yellow robot with enough firepower
to make LA drivers uneasy, and a man in a somewhat laughable bat-
like costume. "And even though it's a tradition and all, do you
mind if we skip beating each other into incoherent piles of goo?
I've had a rough crossover."
     "Shiver me Timbers! Who be ye?" Mr. Trenchcoat still seemed
to be struggling with that accent.
     "We're the Load Island Renegades. I'm Swordmaster, this is
CAW, and the guy in the silly rodent costume is the Squealing
Airborne Rodent, or S.A.R. We fight evil, if somewhat
reluctantly, and were just on our way to wReamicus Maximus' base
when the Rac.ctre told us to swing by here and pick you up."
     "Why'd he do that?" Said Leviathan Lass.
     "Well, he said that you were too busy arguing about the
retcons to get off of your asses and do anything."
     "Ouch, that smarts. But all this angst is neccesary
character development."
     "Look," said Swordmaster. "Haven't you READ any of these
pointless crossover events? There's no TIME for character
development. Let's get going." The two teams, united by plot
contrivance, headed towards their destiny.

     *    *         *    *         *    *         *    *

     Myk-El was flying above Net.Ropolis.  Despite the rampanty chaos
beneath him, he was focussed entirely on using his super-smell.
The TimeCrapper had twisted  Myk-El's Continuity for his own
plot, and now he would pay.It did not take long for Myk-El's
super-nose to find the distinctive odor of an
ambulatory pile of poo-poo.  Of course after the initial locating
the nose was to become a liability, but that did not change Myk-El's
dramatic entrance through the roof of Crapper's Bathrum Sanctorum.
     KRAKOOOM!  Contraption Man lay near a pool of vomit,
overcome by the sheer disgust of the Merging.
     "You have twisted me, mocked me, and perverted me for your own ends
Crapper.  It will stop!  By the SunStations of QWERTY I will have
my Continuity back!  (Geez you stink)"  Myk-El dealt a terrific blow to 
the Merged Crapper, sending him through the far wall to sploosh out in the  
streets of Net.Ropolis.  Myk-El's rage was so great he didn't even cringe
at physical contact with the robed gestalt.
     The pile of crap was in argument with itself.
     **What do you mean you _forgot_ getting hit by Myk-El?!?**
asked pre.
     **This whole episode was pretty confusing, now that I think
about it** admitted post sheepishly.  **I even forget if we win.**
     Myk-El swooped out, swung the festering Time Master about by
his robe and slung him through a nearby building.
     **I'm really tired of this role as a punching-turd.**
     **You're right.  Time to use my Time powers....**
     Myk-El followed his target into the BlueBowl Portajohn warehouse.  
There was a brown smudge on the floor, but no Crapper.  Myk-El
suspiciously looked through the forest of portajohns in the warehouse 
interior for his foe.  Suddenly, the Crapper flashed into being behind 
the QWERTY Crusader.  His super-nose was impeded by the the strong 
chemical antiseptics (jeez that doesn't smell of foreshadow does it?) 
and he whirled a fraction too late.  A heavy computer was fastened to 
his back.
     "HAHAHA!  My trip to the future was fruitful.  I brought
back a PowerPC SunStation!"
     "What have you...."  Myk-El put his hand to his head and swooned.
"What have you done?"  He fell heavily to the floor.
     "HAHAHA!  Your are weakened by the weighty unfulfilled promises of
PowerPC!  It's speed is advancing your decline!  Perhaps it is even 
'emulating' your old powers!  HAHAHA!"
     Myk-El struggled to get to his feet unsuccessfully.  "Damn
you Crapper, I will yet have my revenge."
     "I think not."  He raised a stinky foot to squash Myk-El for
good.
     Suddenly, a star erupted in the portajohn warehouse.  At
it's center was the glowing figure of VAMMO Woman, the RACCelestial 
Madonna.

     "NO CRAPPER!  ONLY MYK-EL HAS BEEN RETCONNED MORE THAN I.  HIS 
INJUSTICE WILL END.  BESIDES THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS A POWERPC
SUNSTATION.  IT IS A _SPARC_.  (YOU KNOW WHEN I GOT THIS JOB I THOUGH 
I'D GET BETTER BACKGROUNDS THAN A TOILET WAREHOUSE.)"

     The faux Sunstation exploded in a shower of sparcs (pun
brought to you by the makers of 'Tubermencsh').  In the SPARC glow, 
Myk-El rose dramatically.  He clenched his fists.
     "Now Crapper, it ends."  Myk-El launched himself at the Crapper at
super-speed.  The Crapper exploded in a disgusting spray of,
well, his constituent parts.  He landed with a series of splashes in the
blue water of a nearby portajohn.  Post-TC immediately screamed in pain, 
the antiseptic chemicals like acid to his dungy form.  Pre-TC joined in 
the screaming just from the sheer disgustingness of it all.
     Contraption Man suddenly appeared at the door, apparently recovered.
He tossed a device into the water with the future villains.
     Myk-El grabbed CM, still smeared with TC goo.  "What was
that?"
     "Well, I could think of nothing worse to do to them than to force them
to stay united, trapped forever in the antiseptic water.  That device 
confines them to the portajohn -- together."
     The portajohn began whirling about as the villains panicked, then
disappeared as post-TC fled back to the future.
     "So would you call that a TURDIS?" asked CM smugly.
     Myk-El shook the villain.  "Nevermind your past villainies: trying
to kill Deductive Logic Man and Dr. Stomper... unhinging the Time
Stream and making it possible for the Crapper to Retcon me repeatedly...
drawing all the alternative Earths to this one...  creating villains to
abort the RACCelestial Madonna Pageant... serving the man that will 
destroy all continuity as we know it.  We could maybe forgive all that, 
but THAT LAST PUN WAS CRIMINAL!"
     "PLEASE MYK-EL.  HE IS AS MUCH A VICTIM OF RETCONNING AS YOU
OR I. LET US LEAVE HIM TO HIS FRIENDS IN THE LNH.  OUR DUTY IS NOT YET
DONE."
     Myk-El looked up to the star that was the Madonna.  "Very
well.  The Crapper has paid for his crimes.  Or will pay.  Or whatever.
You saved my life. What do you need of the near-last son of QWERTY?"
     With a flash of light, the three vanished from the
ill-conceived fight scene.





                            Part II

Legion Headquarters, Net.ropolis:

  "Here me, Legionaires!" the Rac.ctre pleaded.  "You must come with me
now to confront wReamicus Maximus before it is too late!"
  "Sure... Fine... Whatever... Got nothing better to do..." were
the various responses that Legionaires gave.  The assembled Legion
was sent... elsewhere.

     *    *         *    *         *    *         *    *

  "Nightbeast!"
  "Elijah!"
  "<Ah-hija ek' Rathani!>"
  "Uhh... <Where am I? And who are you?>"
  "<I am the Rac.ctre. I have brought you here to save the world.>"
  "<I cannot think straight.. mind is woozy...>"
  "<Let me.>" The Rac.ctre gestured dramatically, and Nightbeast snapped
immediately to attention.
  "What's happened? Where's the rest of U-Force? And what's this about
saving the world?"
  "There is little time to explain. wReamicus Maximus is about to gain
ultimate power, and you will be one of those needed to stop him. Come with
me."
  "wReamicus.. that *bastard* who stranded me? You've got it, buddy."
  "Good. Let us gather the rest."

     *    *         *    *         *    *         *    *

  "Keep running! Don't let them get close!"
  "No %*#&$in' joke, Bristle! Those Nazis are going to... who's *that*?"
  "I am THE RAC.CTRE! You are needed to save the universe! Come through the
portal."
  "How can we trust you?"
  "It's that or the Net.zis."
  "Iiiiii... think we'll go with you." Backlash and Bristle stepped through
the portal.

     *    *         *    *         *    *         *    *

Meanwhile, somwhere underneath the Church of DVANDOM, Net.ropolis:

  "What the --?"
  "Bizarre Boy, are you OK?" Continuity Champ Junior asked him.
  "I... think so," Bizarre Boy replied.  "I must be tougher than I look."
 Bizarre Boy was referring to the fact that he had recently been attacked
by three members of The Legion of Unliving Legionaires, namely Lost Cause
Boy, Myk-El and Radioactive Dude.  "Where are we?"
  "We appear to be in a dungeon," Insomnia Boy stated.  Indeed, the seven
of them (Bizarre Boy, Continuity Champ Junior, Insomnia Boy, Squeaky Clean,
wReamhack, Bad-Timing Boy and Typo Lad) were all chained up against the wall
of some dark, damp, filthy, odourous dungeon.
  "This is barbaric!" Squeaky Clean complained.
  "Hasn't anybody tried breaking free?" Bizarre Boy asked.
  "Ai ave," Typo Lad answered.  "Noething seemz too wurk."
  Continuity Champ Junior nodded.  "It would appear as though wReamicus
Maximus is using a Power Inhibiter (tm) on us."
  Bizarre Boy grimaced.  "Is there _nothing_ we can do?"
  "Oh!"
  "What is it, BTB?" wReamhack asked Bad-Timing Boy.
  "I had the strangest feeling I was just somewhere else."
  "Where?" Continuity Champ Junior asked, suspecting it might be important.
  Bad-Timing Boy concentrated for a moment.  "I was at the RACCelestial
Madonna Pagent... but... how can that be?"
  "It must have something to do with Retcon Hour... and with your powers,"
Insomnia Boy muttered.  He was feeling the effects of his going on for more
than a day without a cup of coffee.
  "Excuse me?" Bad-Timing Boy asked.
  "I think what he means is that given your inate ability to do and say
things at the wrong time conbined with the warped continuity surrounding
Retcon Hour, it isn't completely unexpected that you'd be making appearances
out of continuity," wReamhack explained.
  "But how can that be if wReamicus Maximus is inhibiting our powers?"
Bizarre Boy asked.
  Continuity Champ Junior smiled.  "Ah but don't you see that wReamicus
Maximus probably wouldn't bother inhibiting Bad-Timing Boy's bad luck
powers!  He probably figures that bad luck is the last thing we need
right now."
  "I don't see how things could get any worse," Bizarre Boy mused.
  "Exactly!  That's our chance!"
  "What on Earth are you talking about?" Bad-Timing Boy asked.
  Continuity Champ Junior smirked.  "BTB, I want you to concentrate on those
chains --"
  "What do you _think_ I've been doing?!  Geez!"
  "No!  I mean concentrate on seeing to it that those chains remain
absolutely unbreakable, that nothing short of the Hulk on steroids is going
to be able to break them."
  wReamhack smiled.  "I get it."
  "I don't," Bad-Timing Boy said.
  "You don't have to!" Continuity Champ Junior told him.  "Just keep in mind
that under no circumstances are our chains to break!  You have to believe
in your heart that our lives depend on having those chains remain secure
on each and every one of us!"
  Bad-Timing Boy shrugged his shoulders.  "I wouldn't think we'd have much
to worry about then."
  "Concentrate, BTB!" wReamhack told him.  "Pray that our chains remain  
secure!"
  Bad-Timing Boy closed his eyes and muttered to himself.  Suddenly, he felt
his chains fall to the ground.  "Oops."
  Continuity Champ Junior took a deep breath and then pulled with all his
might.

>CHUNK!<  >CHUNK!<

  "Oh no, not you too!" Bad-Timing Boy exclaimed as Continuity Champ Junior
freed himself from his bonds.
  "No, BTB, it's alright," the others tried to tell them as they too pulled
their chains apart.
  "Huh?"
  "We had to make you believe that our lives depended on those chains holding
secure," Continuity Champ Junior explained.  "Your bad luck power was the
only thing that could possibly have freed us all."
  "Oh," Bad-Timing Boy replied.  He then cracked a smile.  "I did good then?"
  "You did _well_," Insomnia Boy told him.  Squeaky Clean and Typo Lad were
helping him up.
  "Whatever."
  Continuity Champ Junior stuck his chest out.  "Now we go after wReamicus
Maximus!"
  Suddenly, a large phantom appeared.
  "Who are you?" Bad-Timing Boy asked.
  "I am Rac.ctre!  I am here to take you to join your fellow
Legionaires in battle against wReamicus Maximus!"
  "Alright!" Bizarre Boy declared, raising a fist in the air.
  The seven of them disappeared and found themselves...


in a pocket dimension from which wReamicus Maximus planned to rule all
reality!

  "Well. All the LNH gathered here to oppose me. How touching. How quaint.
How 'Infinity Gauntlet'.
  "How truly futile."
  "First, to.. simplify things." wReamicus Maximus readied the ring,
and started things shifting
shifting
                                  shifting
           shifting
                                                   shifting
 shifting around.
  "What's he doing?"
  "Silence, whelp! Is it not obvious? I'm eliminating all those divergent
timestreams. When you're going to be supreme ruler of a universe, you like
things neat and tidy. So, I'm eliminating all those annoying elsewhirl
events <blip>; this 'Deadmeat' earth <blip>; and all the other annoying
divergent earths I can! <blip> <blip> <blip>
  "Now.. there is only *one* earth!  And there will be only one ruler... I,
wReamicus Maximus!
  "No. Wait. Why would I bother with such a mundane name? Or such a
mundane body?" wReamicus Maximus retconned himself throught six months of
Soloflex, and turns into the most muscular being ever seen. I mean, you
think Leifeld characters are ripped, they had nothing on wReamicus. His
costume was now pure black metal, and... well... just plain *evil*. "There.
A suitable body.. which deserves a suitable name. From now on, Net.Heroes,
wReamicus Maximus is no more. Call me..
  ..wRift."

     *    *         *    *         *    *         *    *

     "So, let me see if I've got this straight," said GrimLad.
"You are David Divad, former fencing columnist and mutant with
the ability to taste things from a distance."
     "Correct," said Swordmaster.
     "And I reckon that some evil varmint made a pact with your
pa, and cursed you with Swordsmanship powers?" said Mr
Trenchcoat, in desperate need of someone who could write a
british accent of any kind properly.
     "Again on the nose."
     "And the demon that you dad made the pact with is called
Frank?" Leviathan Lass finished up the summation.
     "You know it."
     "The colors...The colors.." Green Trenchcoat was rolling
around dazed by the non sequitorial nature of Swordmaster's
origin. Demon Boy was consulting his big book of demon names,
namely the DEMONOMONIKERON. "Frank...Frank...ah, here it is! See
DARK LORD, 70's MEMROBILIA, Page 111." Flip flip flip.
     "So, do you think you can make him revoke his curse?"
     "Doubtful. Curses like that are more in the purvew of PLOT
DEVICES, and only writers can repeal them."
     "Well, I guess that's it for you, Joel. The writers HATE
you."
     "Don't remind me, CAW. This whole crossover is like the hot
kiss at the end of a wet fist."
     "BUT there should be something about getting your father's
sould off the hook...we NTB'ers are experts, not to be tooting my
own horn."
     "Yeah, we seem to be proficent in it." Said Mr. Trenchcoat.
Everybody stopped to gawk at him. "What?"
     "Your voice...it's...ENGLISH! And in the proper accent,
too!"
     "Yeah, well, I realized that if Patric Stewart could
convince people he was french with a East Ender's accent like
that, then I could ignore the running gag."
     "I found him! C'mere, guys!" Demon Boy had marked the proper
page of the DEMONOMONIKERON. "Dark Lord...True name, Brady,
Bobby."
     "That's almost as odd a demon name as Frank." said GrimLad,
not catching the significance. The Americans were not so
fortunate.
     "Bobby Brady. Bobby. Brady. Oh, why not JAN!? Huh? WHAT, WAS
ALICE UNAVAILABLE?!"
     "Uh, I can call this guy up, if you want."
     "Yeah, go ahead, Demon Boy."
     "I call...Bobby! Bobby Brady!"
     With a pop of smoke, Frank appeared, stark naked and soaking
wet. He was holding a large red brush and had a floral print cap
over his hair, and a large yellow rubber duck completed the
ensemble. "What the..."
     "Never mind that now," Said Mr. Trenchcoat/WithNail. "Just
come with me." He grabbed Bobby/Frank and dragged him off panel.
     "So, how's he going to make him let my dad's soul go? Magic
incantations? Soul gems?"
     "Naaahh...in the finest tradition of British Law
Enforcement, he'll be beating it out of him." The crunches and
popping sounds were loud and frequent. Finally, after a grueling
twelve seconds of mayhem, Mr Trenchcoat came back with a rolled
up Parchement.
     "Here it is, your father's soul. Be sure to get a reciept.
Boy, LNH demons sure break easy. All I had to do was crack my
knuckles, and he folded like a Tandoori shop during the
Troubles."
     "I don't know how to repay you guys." Swordmaster placed the
soul-document in one of CAW's hidden compartments...IT WAS
TOTALLY INNOCENT!...and then, in a flash of light, staggered
Decibel Dude, Vigilante-Dressing Guy, and a tall blond man in a
Stunningly Garish Costume...(And that's saying something. This is
an LNH comic, after all.)
     "DECIBEL DUDE! V-GUY! DUDE WE'VE NEVER MET!"
     "Captain Seamus Oblivion, last survivor of Reverseworld, at
your service."
     "It was horrible! wReamicus Maximus retconned reverseworld
out of existence! We barely made it out in one piece! What an
epic adventure!"
     "Yeah, good thing the writer avoided that stirring tale and
instead bored us with this whole Frank thing, huh?"
     "NEVER MIND THAT NOW." Came the booming voice of the
Rac.ctre. "THE FINAL BATTLE BEGINS...YOU MUST ALL GO TO THE
SANCTUM OF wReamicus."
     "But we don't know where it is."
     "NO PROBLEM."
     The assembled net.heroes blinked out of the scene. The panel
stayed that way and then cut to...

     *    *         *    *         *    *         *    *

  "wRift??"
  "You mean we're ripping off _Worlds Collide_ in this crossover, too?"
  "After they used Frat Boy and Procrastination Lad in Static #14, we sure
are. Try not your powers on me, Sarcastic Lad; it shall not save you from
my wrath!"
  "Shouldn't that be wRath?"
  "ENOUGH!" The newly christened wRift sends forth a beam of retcotheric
energy from the ring, retconning Sarcastic Lad into.. into... ucckk, I
don't even want to describe it. Let's just say that even Special Bonding
Boy would consider the new Sarcy a wuss.
  "Now, as for the rest of you..."
  One collective thought arose from the LNH. It is, unfortunately, not
printable a family comic like this.

  "Now, I can't have you all actually functioning at peak capacity. Heavens
no. You might actually come close to defeating me at some time. How to
retcon, how to retcon..."
  "Well, Let's start with the ones who have continuity powers. Continuity
Champ and Doctor Stomper... will be afflicted with Legionnaire's Disease."
  "Hey! That crossover isn't for another two months, at least! How could
you knoaaaaaarrgggggghhhhh......"
  "HAHAHAH! He almost made it... but none, NONE, are strong enough to
fight wRift! Even your heavy-hitting characters can be retconned..." wRift
let a blast loose at U-Force.
  "First, we get rid of all these extras. Twenty-five characters is just
too much for any book... let's go back to the original six." <blip>
"Much better. Now, to fit you better into the LNH... So long,
United-Force... Hello, Usenet-Force!"
  And as wRift speaks, it occurs. U-Force is instantly clad in much tackier
costumes, and are actually smiling for once.
  "Usenet-Force, sound off!"
  "Rac.coon Man!"
  "Net Nurse!"
  "Phiber Optik!"
  "Hard Drive!"
  "Argo.net!"
  "Bris.telnet!"
  "Now, net.heroes, do you realize the extent of my powers?"
  "I certainly do, wRift." A voice sounded from behind wRift. "And that's
why I'm here to stop you."
  "Who.. Who dares to disturb me in my hour of triumph?"
  "I... MYK-EL!"




                           Part III

In the pocket dimension ruled by wRift (formally wReamicus Maximus), wRift
had just managed to overcome the combined might of the LNH and U-Force when
Myk-El arrived to challenge him!

  "HA! What can *you* do?" wRift asked defiantly.
  "The question isn't what I can do... It's what *we* can do." From behind
Myk-El, dozens of varaiants of him sprang out: Joker Myk-El; Weapon Myk-El;
Myk-El Force and bout nine different Squalors.
  "They may have retconned me a thousand ways... but each time, another
version came into being. And now, wRift, WE ALL ARE MAJORLY PISSED AT
YOU."
  "HA! All of you combined couldn't defeat me!"
  "Oh, no?" The Myk-Els started merging. one after another, their forms
dissapeared in a processes more birth than death. Finally, there was one left.
He was newly rejuvenated, in a kickin' new costume, and quite mighty. "Hear
me now, wRift! I am the total of all Myk-Els... and I WILL NOT BE RETCONNED
AGAIN!"
  "Oh, yes you will." wRift launched a stunningly powerful blast at Myk-El.
Both of them strain under the pressure. And finally, deciseively, Myk-El
repelled the Retcon blast.
  "What??? Come on, ring, work! Bitten by a radioactive keyboard! Given
powers by a dying space horse! Came from the 25th century! Heck, Killer
Clowns from Dimension X! ANYTHING!!"
  "Forget it, wRift. I WILL NOT STAND FOR IT. Your retcons had shaken me
to the core... but I am still Myk-el! I am the last son of QWERTY! I
stand for justice! YOU CANNOT RETCON THAT!"

  .o(He's Resisting! Myk-el is doing it! But how? I've got to think!)
  <(The power is within.)>
  .o(WHAT?) Continuity Champ Junior turned suddenly to see who spoke, but no
one said a word. .o(Who said that?)
  <(The Power is within, Champ. Use your mind.)>
  .o(Ohh, man, I have *got* to stop watching _Field_of_Dreams_ so often.
Now I'm hearing voic- wait a minute. VAMMO Woman?)
  <(Yes. It is I.. the Living Anchor and RACCelestial Madonna. I am here
to guide you, as I have guided Myk-El. For you are the one.)>
  .o('The One'? The one what? What can I do?)
  <(Use your mind, Champ. The power is within.)>
  .o(Use my mind, use my mind.. Myk-El resisted a retcon... retcons change
the past.. Know myself.. use your mind.. power within... Myk-El's past..
mind.. remind.. power in the mind... mind.. past.. mind the past..
reminding.. think of the past..)
  "..."
  "THAT'S IT!"

  "Decibel Dude! Come here *now*!" Continuity Champ Junior's call was
quickly answered.
  "What's the plan?"
  "On my mark..  gimme VOLUME!"
  CCJr's words thundered forth, maximally amplified by the sonic powers of
D-Dude. "Listen up, everybody! Even wRift's power cannot retcon our past if
we will *remember* it! Think of all the good- and if needed- bad things in
your past! Remember *who* you are, for only memories can defeat a retcon!"
  "I couldn't have said it any better myself, son."
  "CONTINUITY CHAMP!"
  Continuity Champ nodded.  "The Rac.ctre came to the Drizztsat and told
me I was needed... but you seem to have things well in hand here," he said
with a smile.
  wRift turned from his battle with Myk-El, and attacked Continuity
Champ Junior with the ring... but could do nothing. Beam after
beam after retcon beam struck, and nothing changed. All the altered LNHers,
including U-Force, started reverting to their original forms.
  "Ori.. must come through for you.."
  "Been killed.. came back.. stronger than ever!"
  "Revenge.."
  "Honor. I am a man of honor..."
  "Killed them all.... Killed them all.. Have to redeem myself.."

  "No! No! This can't be happening!"
  "You see, wRift? We've discovered your weakness. Give it up! You can't
stop us now."
  "I won't have to stop you, Continuity Champ... If you never existed."
  wReamicus Maximus points the ring at Continuity Champ, and a beam of red
energy shot forth. Continuity Champ started fading.. fading... and was
gone.
  "Remembering won't help you at all against a existence retcon! I'll send
you all into oblivion!" wReamicus launched a *huge* ball of energy at the
LNH. Dozens of Legionnaires vanished instantly, completely erased from
the timestream. Very few got away at all- and they're knocked unconscious
by the retcon backlash. Astonishingly, though, some heroes stood completely
unaffected by the huge Retcon.
  "No! How could you... Drat! I can't retcon you out of existence, you were
created in other universes!"
  "Get him!"
  "No, that will be quite enough of *that*." wRift generated a huge cage,
trapping all the survivors within. "I may be relatively new at handling
godlike power, but I'm *not* stupid."

  "I'd highly dispute that." From the distance, a figure flew full-speed
into wRift, knocking him down and nearly dislodging the ring from his
finger. "If you were smarter, you would have remembered not only the
past... but the future."
  "You!"
  "Of course, evildoer! No chronal disruption goes unnoticed by...
CAPTAIN CONTINUITY!"
  "But... you can't *exist*! I destroyed your earlier self! Continuity
Champ is gone!"
  "That's what you'd like to think, isn't it, wReamicus? But the future
changes as easily as the past, and you really don't know either that well.
If you did, you'd have realized who I am by now." The Captain slowly
removed his mask, revealing his true identity...
  "No!"
  "I-it can't be!"
  "CONTINUITY CHAMP JUNIOR?!?!"
  "No way. No ^*#&$in' way."
  "What.. how.."
  "It's me! It can't be me!"
  "Oh, you and I are the same, 'Junior'. No time to explain now. Let's get
that S.O.B.!"
  "You? Stop me? Stop the almighty wRift? NEVER! Ahahaaha!" With a blazing
bolt of retcotheric energy, wRift hurls Captain Continuity years away and
many miles distant. "He was right, though... I did neglect the future.
  "And the best way to control the future.. is to eliminate it. I'll take
utter control of time, deleting it until there is only here and now."
  And he did. In a single eternal moment of time, everything dissappeared
except for that moment. The entire universe, and everyone and everything in
it, was gone, save those inside wRift's domain.
  "And now, young Continuity Champ Junior.. to kill you."
  "No! You can't kill me! I have to grow up and become.. become.. Captain
Continuity. Wow. I still can't believe it.  If you kill me now, it's going
to utterly destroy.."
  "Looniversal continuity. Precisely. AHAHAHAhahahaahaa!" wRift
focuses, and the ring glowed with a furious light. wRift aimed the apex
of the ring directly at CCJr., and fired..

  ..completely missing him because of the robot that pushed CCJr. aside at
the last possible second.
  "No! No! How come it's always the heroes that get saved at the last
minute?" wRift fumed.
  "Whew! You guys got here just in the nick of time!"
  "No, sorry, wrong Retcon Hour characters. We're SWORDMASTER and the LOAD
ISLAND RENEGADES!"
  "As well as the Legion Of Occult Heroes!"
  "And you, wReamicus, are finished! I challenge you to a duel. A duel for
the ring!"
  "What? Are you joking? First off, the name is wRift. And secondly, I
would never- nev- alright."
  "Huh?", asks CCjr.
  "Wait! Why on *earth* did I agree to that?"
  "You're still a wReam character. And no wReam character can resist a
gratuitous fight scene."
  "But.. bu.. Indeed. My hand is forced. Try as you will, puny human. No
fighter in the world has ever bested me."
  "Here. Take this sword."
  "Sword? I never use the things."
  "Huh?"
   From absolutely nowhere, wRift hauled out two huge, lethal axes. "I
prefer these. Much more 'evil world-controlling madman', don't you think?"
  "But.. buh.. you have to use swords!"
  "Says who? I know your power, Swordmaster, and I know how to defeat it.
Let the battle begin!"
  <*clllaaannnggg*> wRift's broadaxes slid cleanly though the air,
and were barely blocked by Swordmaster. wRift's might was amazing, and
Swordmaster was barely able to survive. Blow after blow was fended off at 
the last possible moment. But against impossible odds, Swordmaster began 
to turn the tide of the battle, and he managed to knock both axes out of  
wRift's hands with one dazzling move.
  "How... How is this possible? I am stronger than anyone here! I'm the
best fighter of them all! And I'm not even using swords against you, so
your power is useless!"
  "Guess you didn't read the rosters that well. I am the best swordsman
*in* *a* *room*.. and from what I've heard, Nightbeast over there is no
slouch. My powers don't give a rat's @$$ who I'm actually fighting, wRift."
  "Plus, having a couple dozen combat spells cast by the LOH doesn't
hurt.."
  "You fool! You've given it away! I'll just retcon Nightbeast- and those
simpering Occultists- out of my life!"
  wRift launched two quick Retcon bolts. One struck the Legion of Occult
Heroes... who disappeared, except for two members, who changed
dramatically.
  "At last! Back to our old selves! The Net.Trenchcoat.Brigade has
returned!"
  The second bolt hit full force into Nightbeast, who groaned.. and shruged
it off.
  "Not... a bloody chance, wRift. Your evil stops *here*. You sent me to
die on that island. You tried to destroy me once.. but you're not gonna do
it again."
  "That's the spirit, NB! And now... time for the Swordmaster to make sure
wRift is permanently.. 'disarmed'."
  "What are you... EYAAAAAHHHHH!!!!" Swordmaster swings his sword at a
blindingly fast pace, and it whistles through the air, severing wRift's
hand clear from his body, the Ring still attached. It lands right at
Continuity Champ Junior's feet.
  "Thanks for the hand, Swordmaster."
  "For once, screw the puns and just get the ring!"
  "Right." CCJr. grabbed the hand, slid the ring off, and put it on his
own hand. Then, with a deep purpose in his eyes, he raised his fist to the sky.
Pure retcotheric energy crackled around him in a gigantic splash panel.
  "Now, it's time to set things right with the Looniverse! First off, to
bring the LNH baooooffff!!!"
  "Enough! I'm taking the ring back, you little punk, and then I'm going to
do things how *I* want! So swears wRift!"
  "No! Never! I'm going to set things right! Just  the  way  they  were!"
  "You can't oppose me! Don't even *try* to stop me, you child! I'm taking
the ring back now!" wRift grabbed Continuity Champ Junior's fist, and started
to wrest the ring away from him. CCJr struggled valiantly against him, but
could barely keep the ring on his finger.
  "You.. will.. die... and the ring.. will be mine! I will rule all the
universe!"
  "*N*E*V*E*R*!!!" screamed CCJr. and, in a display of intense power,
activated the ring full-force against wRift.  wRift fell, collapsing
on the ground, lifeless.
  "I.. I killed him. I didn't want to.. I didn't mean.. I.. I...I have to
get things back. Can't think about it.. must fix the Looniverse."
Continuity Champ Junior began the re-creation. Everything fell slowly
into place- past, present, and future. Swordmaster and the LIR, U-Force, and
a steadily increasing contingent of LNHers gazed in awe, as the Ring blazed
forth with Retcotheric energy. One eternal instant later, it was done.
  And the Looniverse was whole once more.

  "It's all fixed. Except for wRift. Even a evil person like him deserves
life." CCJr focused again, and wRift shifted slowly back into wReamicus, and
breathed once again.
  wReamicus stood up, smiled broadly at Continuity Champ Junior, then
began to speak...
  "RAgga neeeee! Muggy wakkkii sksksksssss!"
  "What?"
  "His mind's gone. Utterly and completely. I don't think he'll ever become
sane again. The ring limits your options at times. *sigh*
  "I'll send him to a place where he'll be taken care of." Once again, the
ring energizes. wReamicus disappears from view.
  "And now. Now what to do with this ring. It's too powerful.. too powerful
for anyone. Me... or anyone else. If I have to wear it again, I might kill
again. I don't want that power. And I can't trust anyone else with it.
  "There is only one thing I can do." Continuity Champ Junior focused
deeply, and the ring very slowly faded away.
  "Did you destroy it?"
  "I wish I could. All I could do is dispower it as much as possible, and
send it into the past. At the very creation of the Looniverse. I think that
ought to put it out of reach."
  "So... what happens now?" Bizarre Boy asked.
  "Now... we go home."
  "Will it be the same?"
  "No. Not exactly. I couldn't control it that well. Some things will have
changed.. and some things will be the same. Some we know will not be with
us.. and some new companions will act as friends of old. Will continuity
still be a problem? I'm afraid so."
  "But... "
  "Look, Biz... didn't you *learn*? Retcons are nothing, even
the beneficial ones. Continuity is a positive force in the universe. But it
is not the most important one. Love. Friendship. Honor. Justice. Memories.
*That* is what it's all about.
  "Continuity is a noble pursuit- but it's merely a means to an end.
Even in ancient times- in Greek mythology- continuity became a problem as
gods suddenly developed multiple heritage. But the Greeks didn't care...
what mattered to them were the stories. What is most important, what
has always been most important and what will be most important...

  ..is the story."

  With this, Continuity Champ Junior turned to the audience, and gave a
conspiratorial wink. He then turned and walked away with the rest of the LNH.


          ===============      Epilogue 1  ===============

U-Force members talking amongst themselves (Don't ask _me_ who's 
talking when. --MFP):

  "So, we're down to us six again."
  "It's for the best. Too bad Continuity Champ Junior couldn't send *us*
home, too."
  "I asked him about it. He mumbled something about 'crossovers' and 'loose
threads'. I think he just didn't want to."
  "In any case, let's get back to headquarters."
  "Ummm... how? The flight.thingee is still up in Ca.net.da!"
  "Oh, @*#&. Parking Karma Kid is going to be pissed..."

          ===============      Epilogue 2  ===============

     IMPLO appeared suddenly at the rubbled battleground.
"RETCON HOUR is cancelled!   I, uh, oh."  He glanced nervously at 
the fatigued but victorious heroes, who were not amused by his appearance.
     "Well it is!" he said defiantly.
     The RACCelestial Madonna floated over and shone angrily, if
you can imagine such an action.

     "YOU ARE NOT EVEN OF THIS DIMENSION, YET PRESUME TO DEFINE
IT'S MILEAU? THE LOONIVEARTH IS NO LONGER PREY TO YOUR WANTON CANCELLATIONS.
AS I AM ITS ANCHOR, LET THE LNH LIVE AGAIN, IN ALL ITS BOOKS!  YOU, FOOLISH
INTERLOPER, I CONFINE TO THE PAGES OF _ERRAND BOY_.  LET YOU NOT MENACE 
THE LNH AGAIN!"

     Impossibly, the Madonna glowed brighter, until a blinding fat beam
emcompassed the green and purple form of IMPLO.  His robotic yet reptillian
voice squeaked out, "But I cancelled _Errand Boy_, there is no
errand boy....."
     The spotlight winked out, leaving only a wisp of smoke where
IMPLO had stood.

          ===============  Epilogue 3  ===============

     Ferris Jones bent over the unconscious form of Contraption
Man, who had just appeared in the LNH Med-Lab after wReamicus' defeat.
     He spoke to Organic Lass.  "So he was working for wReamicus
Maximus all along, as part of the plot to get the Ring of Retcon.  That
explains most of his criminal activities, and why the Crapper never 
gained the upper hand.  But it doesn't answer the question _why_ he became
a villain at all."
     "Brain scans show no signs of mind control or devices," said Organic
Lass helplessly.  There doesn't seem to be a medical reason for it.
     Suddenly, the door to the street flew open (which pretty much
contradicts most LNHHQ floorplans to date.  Chalk it up as a
minor Retcon after shock).  A figure dressed in black slouch hat and 
cloak stood in the pouring rain, a small square of white cloth at his 
throat.  (Again, chalk up the aberrant weather to a meteorological fluke  
created by all the superpowers excercised lately) The dark figure carried 
a black bag.
     "Contraption Man's problem is not medical.  It is
_spiritual_."

             [continued in LNH Triple Play #5 this fall!]


          ===============      Epilogue 4  ===============

     Myk-El stood dramatically over the wreckage of wReamicus Maximus last
stand.  His muscles were lit dramtically in flickering flames, his cape flowed.
Above, the starry heavens of the Looniverse were flickering into sight.  At his
side the RAccelestial Madonna glowed (Begging the question how we could see the
stars at all).
     "The son of QWERTY is redeemed!" he exclaimed joyously.
Tears of gratitude welled up in his eyes.

     "MYK-EL.  YOU OF ALL THE LOONIVEARTH KNOW THE LONLINESS, THE PAIN
OF RETCON.  YOU ALONE SHARE SOME OF THE PAIN THAT I MUST BEAR. FIRST I WAS
ONAMONA-POWEA PERSON, THEN VAMMO WOMAN, NOW THIS.  FIRST A HERO,
THEN A VILLAIN, THEN A COSMIC SAVIOR...."

     "I guess we do have a bit in common...."

     "JOIN ME MYK-EL.  BEING THE COSMIC GUARDIAN OF ALL LNH CONTINUITY AND
THE LIVING ANCHOR FOR THE LOONIVERSE... will be lonely."

     Myk-El looked up into her kind, sad eyes.  "You allowed me to redeem
myself.  Of course I will go.  Just promise me you'll learn to whisper."  
They smiled to each other, then streaked skyward like twin comets out
into the ether.  Well, assuming comets could hold hands, and that one
comet was shaped like a muscleman and wearing tights, but you get the idea.

          ===============  Epilogue 5  ===============
                        (by Paul Hardy)

     Neville the part-time barman (proprietor of The Flying Swan
for the best part of the last quarter of a century) looked
suspiciously at the two men in the corner, who had entered not five
minutes ago through the famous portal of The Swan, demanded six pints
of Large, and assumed a position around the most remote table that The
Swan had to offer. It was not so much that they were inherently of a
worrying breed not native to Brentford, or that they were downing
their pints of the brewery`s finest with a speed that indicated
rowdiness within half an hour, but that they were wearing
trenchcoats. That, in Neville`s experience, indicated that some
devilment was afoot, possibly involving evil creatures from beyond the
netherwastes of hell. Or perhaps Ealing Broadway. Neville kept his
suspicions high, and one eye firmly placed upon the battered Guinness
clock that marched slowly towards closing time.
     GrimSloth supped of a pint and grinned. "Where did you find
this place?"
     Withnail gazing longingly into his pint. "It`s fictional. I
picked up a few pointers from Ramaj on how to get into fictional
universes, and this is one of the best I`ve come across."
     "Just for the beer?"
     "There`s a few other interesting things as well."
     "I`m almost prepared to forgive you for dragging me into that
ridiculous situation."
     "You thought it was bad? Christ, I was talking gibberish half
the time."
     "And that bunch of idiots..."
     "Hah! Legion of Occult Heroes. Never heard of anything so
ridiculous in all my life."
     "How do you think they`ll handle it?"
     "Handle what?"
     "Not being real."
     Withnail shrugged, and drank of his pint of Large. "Their
problem. Time for another round, I think."

          ===============  Epilogue 6  ===============

     Judak rubbed the sleep from her eyes as she walked out into
the main bay of the Drizztsat.  The Drizzt, Deja Dude, the Radiant
Rollerblader and Continuity Champ were sipping coffee and discussing the
Retcon aftermath in relieved tones.
     "....messy, but finally finished.  If I ever see another
party game...."
     Judak noticed all the games spread out across the tables. "Wow looks
like I missed a heck of a party.  Anyone want a quick game of
Cosmic Wimpout?"
     She was unprepared for the four cups of hot coffee that were flung at
her.







-- 
     Jeff J McCoskey       |M|   "Preservatives might be preservin' you all:
        DoD# 750A2         |c|   I think that's somethin' you mighta missed."
   jjmcc at ix.netcom.com     |Q|   -- Jefferson Airplane
           >>your Ad here!  low $$, commensurate visibility<<



==========
Next Week: Some Retcon Hour Odds and Ends..
==========

Arthur "Same Classic Channel.  But Same Time?  Probably not." Spitzer



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