LNH: Classic LNH Adventures #6: Looniverse Adrift! Part One

[Arthur Spitzer]

In this weeks reposting of stuff you can find in the eyrie archive
https://archives.eyrie.org/racc/lnh/
we have the First Part of Ken Schmidt's and Joltin' Jeff McCoskey's
Looniverse Adrift Crossover, which ran in LNH Comic Presents and
LNH Triple Play.

This first part contains LNH Comics Presents #13 and 14..
As well as an interlude by KM Wilcox who created the character
Aeneas Boddy (and wrote a number of series with that
character who was an immortal and Deductive Logic Man's
roommate..)


=====================
Classic LNH Adventures #6:  Looniverse Adrift! Part One
=====================




LOONIVERSE ADRIFT! maxi-series part 1

From: "Ken Schmidt" <kenaschm at cs.indiana.edu>
Subject: LNHCP #13

	It is an area between the place where the world is considered real and 
the place they think is a creation of their keystokes, a meeting of two 
beings is about to begin.  One is a stranger to the place he now inhabits,
the other is an abstract representation, choosing to manifest its physicality
in the form of a perfectly symmetric face.
	"Welcome to my domain," said the face.
	"Dispense with the facade of pleasantries," said the figure veiled in
shadows, the light emanating from the tip of his staff was devoured by the
shadows hiding his identity.  "Your motives for requesting my presence are
unclear at this point, but by veiling them you have aroused my suspicions."
	"You may also dispense with your grandiose verbal patterns.  You are
not among mortals who might find it imposing."
	"This sparring will accomplish nothing.  My time is better spent 
elsewhere than on this.  Now quickly!  What is the reason for my presence 
here?"
	The CAD face shifted,"A newsgroup has caught my ire.  It is devoted to
nothing but the wasting of valuable computing time and resources.  However
it is among the many groups you frequent."
	After a pause the visitor became impatient.  "What do you wish me to 
do?"
	"Nothing.  W...I want your assurances that you will not interfere 
with my plans, perhaps you could even be persuaded to assist.  You were,
at one time, a productive student.  How much more could you have accomplished
had this and other...distractions...not ate into your valuable time.
	"Your attempt at flattery rings as hollow as the sincerity in your
requests of me, this audience is at an end!"
	"Do not be so hasty, Stranger!"
	"And you do not overestimate your power over my person!  Only my 
curiosity has kept me in this place.  At best, we are peers.  And you do not 
wish to find the answer to the question of your ability to keep me in your 
demenses, you will not like the result."
	"Stranger, I am disappointed in your reluctance in assisting in this
matter.  I am also not so foolish to confront a being whose power is so very
equal in scope, if not function, as mine own."
	The visitor sensed multiple new presences, and discovered he was 
unable to transport himself away.  "What trechery..." was all the Dvandom 
Stranger could utter before assaults on multiple levels of reality rendered 
him to unawareness.  His last thought dwelled on the strange facial expression
adorning one of the faces of his unknown assailants.

		#######################################################

	At LNHHQ Constellation was pouring over the Inependent and Wild Card 
rosters.  His eyes focused on the terminal's screen, but his mind wandered.
'Perhaps a quick exploratory jaunt, maybe a trip to visit Tym.'  He skipped
up to the top of the list, and his eyes flickered over the entry of the Dvan-
	{Constellation.}  Constellation whirled, perceiving the voice as 
orginating from behind him.  He was taken aback momentarily when he realized 
the being that called out was the same being's entry he was about to read.
	"Dvandom Stranger?  What are you doing here?" Constellation realized 
this was not a physical manifestation of the enigmatic being but a projection
of some type.
	{There is no time for your questions.  I have some new information that
pertains to you and you alone.  Please join me now.}
	"What? More-" Constellation's sentance ended as the projection of the 
Stranger disappeared.  "That was odd...the Stranger was hardly himself there."
	"Dot, was that *really* him and not some sort of fake?"
	++Well, I'm not sure.  It smelled like him, and it 'looked' like him, 
but it didn't quite sound like him, you know, the mindvoice was...off.  Like 
a recording or something.++
	"Hm.  A mystery, eh?  Well, I guess that answers how to get out of here
for a while."  Constellation tapped out a short email to Particle Man and
Sig.Lad, 'Gone to bother the Stranger' and then noted, "You know, he didn't
exactly give us directions, did he?"
	++Actually, he did.  There's a slight pull on us that smells like his
power.  He left us a 'trail of crumbs' I suppose you could say.++
	"Cool.  Let's do it."
	The duo went sidewaysout, as Dot slipped them into the Astral
Realm, and once there they could see a clear portal in the shape of a 
perfect dodecagon.  
	"Looks like a welcome mat to me.  'Smell' right to you?"
	++Not totally.  This is his power, but not his style.++
	"Yeah, I get your point.  Dvandom Stranger is a rushed kinda guy.  This
is too neat.  Hmm.  Maybe he had a change of lifestyle or something.  Well,
let's go in.  I hope I don't regret not bringing along any of the LNH..."
	Entering the portal was different from the usual sensations of 
entering another PluReality.  Instead of being vague and confusing, it was a 
sharply defined cutoff, like walking through a wall of light.  This clarity was
enough to set Constellation on edge, but it was nothing compared to the
sight that greeted him on the other side.
	Seething tendrils of energy lit the area, wrapping around the arms and
body of a trechcoated man...the Dvandom Stranger!  Motionless he hung, the
writhing yet strangely orderly bonds reaching out from his fingertips to the
Editorial Staff, which floated above him, tantalizingly within reach.  The
Stranger was a puppet, the bonds his strings.  But who was the puppetmaster?
	Constellation decided he didn't care.  --Get us OUT OF HERE!-- He 
mentally shouted.
	++I can't!  Something has blocked the way!"++
	-- But...nothing can block you!?--
	"There is no out now, poor inexperienced 'hero'," cooed a voice out
of the dark.  "The Stranger is a guardina of the PluRealities, and his staff
gives me the power to control access to other dimensions.  Consider yourself
written into a corner by the Editorial Staff.  And by using its power instead
of mine, it was simplicity itself to trick you into thinking the summons 
originated from the Stranger."
	"I don't know who you are, or what you are trying to accomplish but-"
	"DO NOT DARE THREATEN ME!  My identity would mean little to you, but
now that you are here we can acomplish our goals," a perfectly rendered CAD
drawn face materialized, but its lips didn't move along with the words
that Constellation was hearing.
	"We?  Who is 'we'?" Constellation stalled for time, hoping that he 
could somehow use his powers to distract this entity, giving him and maybe 
even the Stranger a chance to break free.  But before he could do more than 
gather a few stars into his fist, he lost consciousness to the sound of gentle 
mocking laughter...

		#######################################################

	At a base somewhere near alt.comics.lnh a device suddenly doubles
in its efforts, and an alarm is sounded.  Into the room a figure materializes
and it rushes to the machine.
	The figure is a man obviously in need of sleep, and his motions seem 
slowed in some way, but his frantic pace compensates.  His shoulders sag,
he concentrates and into the room two figures materialize.  They both look 
as though they have just awakened, yet their motions are not as strained.
	"What's up, boss?"
	"Webster, I feel...sluggish.  Something has jump-started the effect.
Pocket Man's power source is compensating, but it isn't enough.  Webs Tor,
I'll need Detector's power."  Tsar Chasm concentrated, and Webs Tor slumped
to the ground and Tsar Chasm closed his eyes and concentrated.
	A moment later, his eyes shot open in terror.  "NO!  I see what is 
going on, and my probe has revealed me!  I never suspected an intelligence
behind this.  The identity and the motives escape me for now, but I realize
the action I must take."
	"Uhhh...boss, you're talking out loud and making no sense.  What is-"
	"Silence Webster, I need to activate my contingency plan.  Teleport
yourself, and then wait for further instructions.  Webs Tor and I have
some old friends to extend an invitation to, but there isn't time to wait
for their replies."

		#######################################################

	Master Workload looked annoyed.  All was in position but the desired 
effect hadn't taken hold.  What could be wrong?  It was almost as if some
force was acting against him.  But he was confident in the knowledge that
none of his fellow net.entities (save the ones assisting him in this venture)
were ignorant of his plans.
	Then something dared intrude on his realm.  It was a wave of some sort.
Quickly he traced it back to its source, and discovered what it was that
was hindering his machinations.  
	A mortal and his machine.  The contact was lost, but Master Workload
had learned enough.  The thought of his plans being thwarted by a silly mortal
and his pathetic science was almost too much for Master Workload to bear.  
This unknown mortal would pay for his interference, somehow, but Master 
Workload was unable to act directly, currently being stretched too thin 
between sustaining his effect, and hiding it from his 'brothers and sisters'.
He needed a pawn to act for him that wouldn't be susceptible nor questioning 
of his commands.  He needed...yes, he found the perfect one.

		#######################################################

	Somewhere under Cosmic, New York a pair of eyes opened.  They had not 
tasted air for quite sometime.  The muscles had atrophied over an extended
period of disuse, but a new power filled the frame of the 5'3" balding,
glasswearing nerd.  Leather straps that had once served as adequate bonds
now snapped easily as the man sat up.  His eyes were filled with a 
determination and his motions seemed to be orchestrated by a will that was
not his own.
	"My goal is understood.  I will do this deed," the echo in the room
had not died, and the figure vanished.

		#######################################################

	At LNHHQ, a mysterious ailment had fallen over many of the residents.
Its origin was unknown and the only visible symptom was a general sluggish-
ness on the part of the affected parties.  A pattern had not been determined
when the trouble sensors alerted the heroes to a new threat.
	The slowed down Multi-Tasking Man scanned over the trouble sensor's 
read out, activated the external monitors, switched on the intercom, and sent 
out a general alert.
	"Tsar Chasm, Webster and Webs Tor have materialized outside the
headquarters.  Their intentions don't seem to be peaceful!"
	Multi-Tasking Man checked the trouble sensor readouts again.  'That's
funny, there is only one contact, but there are three people on the video
cameras.'  Multi-Tasking Man's mind quickly formed many questions, but
they remained unanswered when the trouble sensors picked up a new contact
right behind hi-

		#######################################################

	Ultimate Ninja, slowed as he was, moved to the nearest window.  He was
on the second floor, overlooking the area where Tsar Chasm and his drones
were.  Already aLLiterative Lass was outside the door drawing her katana on 
the run.  Behind him, Ultimate Ninja heard Sarcastic Lad running to the 
staircase leading from the second floor to the lobby.
	"Did he say Tsar Chasm?  Did he say Tsar Chasm?  It's PAYBACK time..." 
the rest was lost as Sarc flew down the stairs. Ultimate Ninja contemplated
following Sarc down the stairs, but realized in his sluggish state, the 
trip would take too long.  His mind was trying to discern the cause of
his...slow-down.  Lageneto's doing?  But how would that explain Tsar Chasm's
appearance?  Perhaps it was Tsar Chasm himself, he and his flunkies did not
appear to be affected by the slow down.
	Ultimate Ninja's body was in motion, opening the window and slipping 
his body through it.  He tensed and aimed at himself at Tsar Chasm, without
him, the Webs would be next to useless...so he hoped.

		#######################################################

	Sig.Lad was showing Particle Man the e-mail message from Constellation 
in his room.  Sig.Lad was among the slowed down, but he ignored it as best
he could.  "This is odd.  Why would the Stranger want Constellation, but not 
the two of us?"
	Particle Man was about to reply when a third figure materialized in the
room with his arms spread out.  "Hey!  Who is-" Particle Man's question was 
cut short as the stranger brought his hands down, and slapped a small metal
disk onto each of the Net.Heroes.  A small electric shock, and the heroes
collapsed.  The newcomers eyes widened, "Particle Man?  NO!"  The unconsious
form gave no signs of moving.  'That should have never worked on Particle
Man.  I don't have the time to contemplate this!" The unknown figure shook
his head, and vanished from the room.
	He materialized in Pocket Man's room, where he and Organic Lass were
sharing a candle-light dinner.  They were slowed, but they didn't even notice
it.  They were totally oblivious to the newcomer's presence.
'No time to explain now,' he thought as he teleported next to the table.
	"Wha..?" was all Pok could get out before he and Organic Lass fell to 
fate similar to Sig.Lad and Particle Man.
	A sudden rush of power flooded the newcomer,'No!  My diversion has been
discovered!  But I have one more to get!  I'll have to gamble and just lock
onto the strongest source of power in the complex.  Being slowed as 
the others are should allow me to spirit him away against his will.  The 
effect is taking its toll, but I only have one last thing to do...'
With that the stranger teleported again, but this time Pocket Man and Organic
Lass vanished with him, as did three other LNHers.

		#######################################################

	From his vantage point on the window ledge, Ultimate Ninja could see 
that the battle was not going well for the LNH.  aLLiterative Lass and 
Sarcastic Lad had quickly been joined by Irony Man, but the trio could not 
get close enough to Tsar Chasm and his two drones.  The little black boy
had just created a wall of flame around the group when Ultimate Ninja was
finally in position to lauch himself from the window, aiming his attack at
Tsar Chasm.  While in the air Ultimate Ninja realized that he didn't smell
anything burning.  He didn't have the time to dwell on it, he was about to
take out Tsar Chasm.  He opened his arms, planning on tackling TC around
his shoulders and pining him to the ground.
	"You're mine, TsaAAAAAAAAARRRRGH!" Ultimate Ninja's arms grasped
nothing, as they went right through Tsar Chasm.  His kneee, however, cracked 
on a solid object.  The head of a member of the Independ Net Conquerers.
Webs Tor fell unconcious, and all of his holographic projections vanished.
The illusion of Tsar Chasm around his body, the fake Webs and the wall of 
flame.  Ultimate Ninja rolled on the ground clutching his knee.
	aLLiterative Lass rushed to his side, "It aPPears our Pal is in Pain!"
	Sarcastic Lad responded,"Ah, he's tough, and he's taken worse...HEY!  
This musta been a distraction!  I'll bet that Tsar Chasm is inside right now!"
	Irony Man was about to follow Sarc into the HQ when he realized that 
Ultimate Ninja wasn't moving anymore.  "GUYS!  Come back!  I think Ultimate
Ninja is DEAD!"

		#######################################################

	Somewhere at rec.arts.comics.info five LNHers materialized.  Pocket 
Man, Organic Lass, Sig.Lad, Particle Man,and  Kid Kirby.
	"Who dares transport the weilder of the Power Kirby against his will?!
Had I not been overcome some mysterious malaise, I would not have allow it!"
	Particle Man sat up, rubbing the base of his skull, "Not so loud Kid!
I have the WORST headache!"
	"Where are we, and how did we get here?" asked Sig.Lad.
	A sixth figure materialized.  "Oh, good you all made it.  Now we 
ca..." the newcomer collapsed face down, apparently exhausted.
	"Who is that?" asked Particle Man.
	"I'm not sure, I'll turn him over and see," said Pok as he walked over 
to the prone figure.  Pok squated on his haunches, rolled the man over and then
buried his face in his hands.  "Ahhh....it figures!"
	"What?  Who is it?" asked Sig.Lad.
	Pok turned the man all the way over, stood up to the side and said, 
"Think armor and blue cape."
	Sig.Lad recognized the figure,"TSAR CHASM!"


From: jmccoske at sedona.intel.com (Jee McCoskey)
Subject: LNH Comics Presents #14



^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
This epoch-making joint venture between two of a.c.lnh's most notorious
publishing houses started with a bang in LNH CP #13.  Apparently, quite
a few copies hit the streets without covers!  Be sure to hang onto those, as
they could just become collector's items.  Irreperable debt to DVD for
services as creative consultant and reluctant writer.
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

        "Who's dead, Irony Man?" asked Sarcastic Lad.
        "Uhm . . .this, dead guy right here . . . whoever he is."
        "But I Believe he's Breathing!  alBeit Badly . . ."
        "You're right aLLiterative Lass!  Let's get him to the Med-Lab so
Organic Lass can look at him."
        Irony Man and aLLiterative Lass cast confused looks at Sarcastic Lad.
        "Who?"
        "Uhm . . .who'd I say?"
        "Someone named Origami Lass or something.  I think you meant Dr.
Stomper."
        "Origami Lass?  No, of course I meant Dr. Stomper."  Irony Man shook
his helmeted head, then picked up the dark-clad body and flew off to the lab.

                ===============         ===============

        Meanwhile, inside the LNHHQ, Captain Cleanup hustled towards the exit,
only to trip up on an unseen object.  "Oof.  What in the . . ."  To the
Sanitary Samaritan's amazement the corridor was entirely empty.  To his even
greater amazement, he noticed his boots were ablaze.  Quickly dumping a bottle
of single-use Windex from his Janitory Belt, he extinguished the flames.  "Just
had those cleaned . ." he muttered.  His eyes narrowed as he slowly retraced
his steps.  The temperature raised noticeably as he progressed, though there
was no apparent cause.  Abruptly, his hand encountered what felt like a human
body. Captain Cleanup tilted his head in confusion.  Not on his worst day would
he have left a whole body lying around.  Not even an invisible one.  Before he
could explore further, the Captain's glove burst into flame.  "Something
strange is going on here!" he concluded.

                ===============         ===============

        "Woah, chick.  That spud is over and out," said California Kid.  He
pointed to a prostrate form stretched out on the bed.  The unconscious man's
face wore a strange smirk.
        "Hmmph.  Weakling," snipped the Incredible Unsleeping Man.
        Julie Lee clutched a towel embroidered with the Comics Code seal to her
dripping body.  "I don't think he's asleep.  He didn't even stir when I
screamed."
        "Like, how'd he get in here Julie?"
        "I don't know.  I just looked out of the shower and there he was.  I
have the strangest feeling I've seen him before."
        "Gnarly!  I had, like, totally the same impression . . ."
        Julie's towel slipped a fraction, causing the Incredible Unsleeping
Man's perpetually open eyes to blink.  She blushed.  "Look, we can try to
figure this out later.  Just get him out of here now.  And take his box of
condoms with him."  Julie Lee's pretty face wrinkled in disgust.  "Who knows
_what_ he planned on doing with those."
        California Kid lifted the unconscious man onto his shoulders as the
Incredible Unsleeping Man struggled with the econo-pak of Wilt-the-Stilt
Condoms.
        "Now that you mention it California Kid, (unngh) I've got the nagging
feeling I've seen him before too . . ."

                ===============         ===============

        The frail body of Dr. Killfile slowly flexed, testing the surge of
power that flowed through its limbs.  Behind thick glasses malevolent eyes
glared, at once vacant and powerful.  Around him, Tsar Chasm's high tech control
room hummed imperviously.  Experimentally, Killfile's form unleashed an energy
blast.  A large viewscreen exploded in a shower of sparks.
        Inside the scrawny body, a voice echoed.  "Excellent.  This body's
powers are not atrophied in the slightest.  And utter lack of native will
seems irrelevent to their employment.  This will be easier than even I
thought.  Now which would be quicker -- to find the Wave Inhibitor, or simply
destroy the entire base at once . . .?"

                ===============         ===============

        Censor Girl's eyes flared open.  The refrain of "destroytheLNHdestroy
theLNHdestroy . . ." that had made her recent days so pleasant had subtly
altered.  She stood uncertainly, snapping the bonds the interns had placed on
her.
        ==destroytheWaveInhibitordestroytheWaveInhibitordestroythe. . .==
        CG ran a quick check of her cybernetic systems.  They appeared
functional, though somewhat below par.  Since Flame Wars II she had undertaken
extensive internal repairs -- but her work was not quite finished.
        ==destroytheWaveInhibitordestroytheWaveInhibitordestroythe. . .==
        A system status displayed to her head's up visor.  Of course!  The new
refrain even _felt_ different.  It was no mere digital replay of her Master's
last wishes.  It was the answer to her electronic prayers -- a _new program_!
Her AI was detecting a slight anomaly in the signal, but with all her recent
damage this was understandable.  All that mattered was that Dr. Killfile had
returned.  Repairs could wait.

               ===============         ===============

     Lord Ebon brooded, an insubstantial wraith in the Looniverse, a malevolent
force without a body to give substance to his desires.  And of all the
PluRealities, this Looniverse was the most malleable to those desires.  Expert
he was at warping the fundamental laws of nature...but as one sage had pointed
out, Usenet is an anarchy.  Without Natural Law to overcome, his powers were
multiplied a hundredfold.  Still...to use those powers he needed a body.
     Twice now the interference of this Constellation had robbed him of a
powerful form, this time directly.  And even a petty revenge using his
truncated powers was denied him, as the object of his ire had left the
Looniverse yet again.
     Making defeat harsher had been the loss of three others whose bodies would
have served as powerful hosts...not as powerful as the one with the chesspiece
face, but still enough to start with.  But in his rage he had failed once more
to see beyond the present.  He almost laughed at the irony.  He, an immortal,
acting rashly, without regard for the future.  Still, he took some small
consolation knowing that his foe had been far more deeply hurt by the loss of
the others than Ebon himself was inconvenienced.
     Still, that loss yet soured his sleepless dreams.  He may be immortal, but
his foes were not.  And the vengeance of simply outliving an enemy is a pallid
one indeed.  He had need of a host body of great potential power, yet without
a strong spirit to risk losing control to.  Fortunately, in the fashioning of
his Net.Elemental army he had found such a body.  Wisely planning for the
possibility of defeat, he had not sought to use this Professor Killfile as a
tool, instead creating a mystic simulacrum.  Now was the time to take his
shining prize, the comatose form of one who had strong connections to the
Elemental Thread, in addition to vast knowledge of what passed for physical
laws in this Looniverse.  Yet, even sapped of will, this Killfile had a
formidable spirit.  Ebon had been marshalling his energies for some time now,
but the net.villain's body would soon serve as a vessel for Lord Ebon's spirit.
        The Black Sorceror's brooding was interrupted by a shining silver bolt
that flashed from nowhere, and shimmered before him like a lightning strike
frozen in time.  An outside force had accessed the Looniverse.  Expanding his
senses, Lord Ebon reached out to the crackling energy.  He was unprepared for
the force that flowed through the bolt -- for it was merely a carrier
for psychic energy.  An energy that was best described as a psychic wave, a
psynami, striking at the Looniverse.
        Lord Ebon's disembodied consciousness expressed a flash of condescending
smugness.  The psynami crashed impotently over the Looniverse, perhaps eroding
it slightly at the edges.  But at the center of the impact stood Ebon's thrall,
Dr. Killfile.  The dispersed psynami flowed into him as if he were a great
psychic drain.
        Lord Ebon's thoughts turned coldly furious.  The originator of this
psychic attack had erred twice.  First in presuming to intercede in the plans of
the heir of Simon Magus.  And second, in providing such an easy route into the
the body of Doctor Killfile.  The Psynami had battered aside the barriers
Ebon had been steeling himself to defeat, and created such psychic noise that
the attacker would fail to notice Ebon's own entry into the playing field...
until he had fully taken his new body.
        Without a second thought, Lord Ebon dove into the psynami, and was
swept along.

                ===============         ===============

        "She's gone, gone, gone.  And I don't care . . ."  Ferris Jones eyed
the ceiling with distaste at the music, then returned to the 'Mousetrap'
screenplay he was reading.  The disco beat intensified.  Ferris put the book on
his seat and began pacing.  The wah-wah pedal started working an otherwise
simple guitar riff.  Ferris stormed halfway up the steps, shook his head, then
returned back to the den.  " . . .gone.  And I don't care . . ."  Ferris
muttered that he was well aware how little the musician cared.  Was the
musician aware how little _he_ cared to hear about it?  The bass track thumped
loudly as the instrumental center piece bumped in.  Ferris disgustedly kicked
Aeneas' sword out of his pacing path.  Boddy was a mostly acceptable housemate,
but these musical interludes . . .
        Ferris shook his head.  Wait a minute.  There was no housemate --
Ferris lived alone.  He stared at the ceiling.  The guitar seemed to take on a
syncopated refrain at odds with the rest of the song.  "I said she's gone,
go . . I said she's gone, go . .I said she's gone, go . ."  If Ferris didn't
have a roommate, who's 'Best of the 70's' album was now skipping upstairs?
Ferris lunged for the staircase.
        As Deductive Logic Man, Jones could see subtle yet unmistakeable signs
of dual occupancy in his stately English Manor.  Not the least of which were
the musical selection and the dark-clad body slumped over the stereo.  Yet he
clearly remembered living alone.  In his inimitable way, Deductive Logic Man
put two and two together and concluded . . .
        "What has the LNH done now?"

                ===============         ===============

        Nomex Man struggled with a heavy burden, though his arms appeared
empty.  Behind him, Captain Napalm carried a fire-extinguisher.
        "Thank you, Brother Napalm. I know that device is distasteful to you."
        "Not at all, Brother Nomex.  We could hardly allow your invisible
burden to enflame the LNNHQ, could we?"
        "Certainly not, Brother Napalm."
        The pair made to enter the Med-Lab.  From the shadows, the pair were un-
wittingly under observation.  <( I wonder . . . )> came a hushed voice.
        "Make way, make way, hazardous invisible waste coming through."
        "Just a minute NM, " said Dr. Stomper.  He flitted from body to body
in the overcrowded med-lab.  The lab's bed space had proven ill-equipped to
handle the rash of mysterious comatose bodies that infested the LNHHQ, especiall
y
after the addition of a dark bird-woman with a twelve foot wingspan.  Stomper
had removed all beds and lined up the bodies on the floor.  Even that proved
insufficient, so the scientist then commissioned Domestic Lad to hang hooks
around the room and suspended bodies from them.  Nomex Man's burden was
the last one the room would accept unless they began stacking them two-deep ...
        "Thet's the last hook, Doc," said Domestic Lad, turning the bolt one
last time.
        "Ok, Nomex Man, bring it on in."
        "That is also the last body, Dr. Stomper," said Captain Napalm as he
extinguished a blaze on the door frame.  "Squeaky Clean and Captain Cleanup have

covered the LNHHQ top to bottom.
        "Hey guys," said Catalyst Lass as she entered the Med-Lab.  "As soon as
you're done here, you guys want to meet up in the Conference Room?  I've been
gathering everyone up.  All these sleeping bodies and stuff -- I figured the LNH
should look into it, y'know?"
        Dr. Stomper said, "Actually, shouldn't our leader have gathered us
together by now?  Why hasn't Ulti -uh . . ."  The Doctor's eyebrows furrowed.
        "Dr. Stomper?"
        "Who's our leader?  Shouldn't we have one?  I mean . . ."
        "Oooh!  Good point!  We can elect a leader too!  C'mon!"
        The men filed out behind Catalyst Lass' light-blue, perky figure.  On th
e
way out, they passed a body that had a strange smirk on his face.  Domestic Lad
commented, "Y'all evah have thet eerie feelin' y'seen someone befowa?"

                        ============================

        Catalyst Lass stood at the podium in the assembly hall.  "Great!  This
is really a super turnout!  Thanks bunches, everybody, for meeting on such
short notice.  Dr. Stomper, why don't you fill everyone in before we get into
it?"
        "Gladly, Catalyst Lass.  As most of you know, comatose bodies in
strange costumes  . . . "  Dr. Stomper surveyed his audience, which included
New-Look Lass.  "That is to say, _unfamiliar_ costumes have been cropping up
all over LNHHQ.  We've managed to collect all of them, thanks to Captain
Cleanup . . ."  The Sanitary Samaritan saluted the assembled heroes.  "So if
you have any free time stop by the Med-Lab and see if you know any of them.
The only other bit of data we have is that the bodies showed up right after we
were attacked by Webster and Webs tor, who are still unnaccounted for."
        Innovative Offense Boy stood up in the audience.  "Don't you @%$#@in'
see?  It's all ^@$in' part of a plot by that #@%&*, Tsar Chasm to overwhelm our
%^&@#in' support systems . . ."  The Offensive Avenger's words trailed off as
a puzzled look crossed his face.
        Ordinary Lady filled the silence.  "Whose plot did you say it was?"
        "I-I'm not #&%*$in' sure . . ."
        Catalyst Lass took the mike from the podium.  "Well that body problem
could be our first mission.  But while we're all together, I thought we could
just go ahead and have elections now too -- y'know for Leader.  Isn't that a
great idea?  I mean, Bad Timing Boy's manning the Trouble Alert, so we'll know
if anything evil or bad or something happens . . ."

                ===============         ===============

        Censor Girl had made short shrift of the asylum guards.  She had used
her cybernetics to track the source of her new program.  Her heads up display
showed the location of Dr. Killfile, the man who had made her, programmed her
to destroy the LNH, and now had thoughtfully reprogrammed her.  Her circuits
hummed as she again tested the precious Link that had been silent for too long.
Across the Link, her new program repeated reassuringly.
==destroytheWaveInhibitordestroytheWaveInhibitordestroytheWaveInhibitor==
        What little of humanity that remained in the cyborg had the eagerness
of a child.  How pleased Killfile would be when he saw how well she carried out
his plans!  Maybe afterward he wouldn't go away again, but reprogram her for
_another_ task, then another . . .  Censor Girl couldn't contain her excitment
as she overlooked Tsar Chasm's lair.

                ================                ===============

        Master Workload exerted a modicum of will and Dr. Killfile's body
raised its arms.  An activity as pointless as violence normally irked
Workload, but the satisfaction of destroying the Looniverse would somehow be
diminished without savagery.  There was no need to expend energy locating the
-s mode "testonly" -s vu "on" -s dis "-dis" -s ucode "-ucode"Wave Inhibitor in
he technological maze.  Just smash it all, and let the Net
sort it out . . .  Workload allowed one last smile at the irony of pointless-
ness being undone by pointless violence, then . . . paused.
        An eddy in the psynami that washed over the Looniverse, and submerged
Killfile's will, touched Master Workload.  In the next instant, a foreign
consciousness plunged into Workload's psychic pool.  Dr. Killfile's body arched
back as all his muscles contracted at once.  The new arrival mentally made his
presence felt in two words.
        "Who _dares_ ...?" hissed Lord Ebon.


Newsgroups: alt.comics.lnh
From: kmwilcox at iastate.edu (K M Wilcox)
Subject: Re: Looniverse Adrift
Date: Fri, 3 Dec 1993 03:00:01 GMT

   The following takes place during the WC blackout of Looniverse Adrift. It
need not be added as an addendum or anything, but I just punched it out for
fun.

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*


   Aeneas floats through the white void. In the distance, he sees a gray
shape. As Aeneas swims closer to it, the shape gradually becomes more
distinct.
   "Ultimate Ninja?" Aeneas asks. "What are you doing here? For that matter,
where is here?"
   "We're in a coma, Aeneas," the ninja tells him.
   "Coma? How can I be in a coma? I'm imm... I didn't do anything to be here,"
Aeneas whines. "Wait. How did you know my name?"
   "First, you're here because you've lost contact with your writer like the
rest of us." The ninja points at other shapes floating in the distance.
"Second, I know..."
   "My writer?" Aeneas interrupts. "What do you mean by that?"
   "You have a writer. You're a writer character, like me," Ultimate Ninja
explains.
   Aeneas shakes his head. "I must be dreaming. I'm not a character; I'm a
human being! More or less."
   "Less. A lot less. You, Aeneas Romulus Boddy, are fictional." The ninja
floats back as Aeneas absorbs the thought.
   Aeneas is silent for a moment. "Uh huh," he says incredulously.
   "I'll prove it," Ultimate Ninja offers. "You are immortal. You've made
intelligent cockroaches, one of which attacked me. If I ever find out, I'll
probably kill you three or four times. You've met gremlins and dinosaurs. Even
though ABC3 hasn't been written, this takes place after it, so I know the
story you told, but did not believe it, or will not have believed it. However,
nobody but Ferris knows the secret of your power, and we won't until sometime
this spring in a two-part issue."
   "How are you aware of all this?" Aeneas demands.
   "Because your writer is writing this," the ninja answers. He points in a
direction Aeneas hadn't bothered to look.
   "That's supposed to be my writer?" Aeneas asks, pointing shakily.
   "You're like his alter ego. See that gray hat? It's just like yours,"
Ultimate Ninja explains.
   Aeneas stares, his jaw hanging. After a minute of motionless silence, his
mouth closes. The ninja slowly backs away. Aeneas gulps visibly, then speaks.
"Kill me! Kill me now! Somebody please kill me! End it now, please!
Aaaarrrrrggggghhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!"
   Ultimate Ninja floats behind Aeneas and winks at his writer. "I sure am
glad we'll both forget this when we wake up." The writer winks back and puts a
thought in the ninja's head about Oriental herbs, like the kind which make
paralyzed people capable of walking, even if they also became insane, and the
kind which lower all body signs to simulate death but eventually wear off,
probably after burial. Maybe that he'll remember.


  *-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*
 / K. M. Wilcox/                                               \Mister Boddy \
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*  "So, Professor Jenkins!... My old nemesis!...  *-*-*-*-*-*-*-*
   \    We meet again, but this time the advantage is mine! Ha! Ha! Ha!"   /  
    *-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
                        TO BE CONTINUED in LNHCP #15
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^


==========
Next Week:  The Second Part of Looniverse Adrift!
==========

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