LNH: Classic LNH Adventures #23: RETCON HOUR Epsilon

Drew Perron pwerdna at gmail.com
Thu Jul 7 14:16:13 PDT 2016

Time to read more LNH to charge my spoons. I love the LNH so much.

On 6/28/2016 9:10 PM, Arthur Spitzer wrote:

> 	Lettered by:
> 		My computer
> 	Colored by:
> 		Green or Amber monochrome monitors

I mean. People had VGA by now, right? ...hoboy ^^;

> It's a typical morning for Errand Boy; since he isn't in the Legion, and they
> aren't even aware that he lives in their HQ, he doesn't do much crime-fighting.

To be fair, that's true for a not-insignificant portion of the actual Legion.

> Stretching and
> yawning a little bit more, he shuffles around the room, getting dressed. [one
> great thing about comic book superheroes--they never need showers except when
> it'll advance the story-- TS]

I mean, you're in the middle of a scene showing the other little life details 
that don't usually get a look in in the story, so you might actually wanna make 
sure you don't stink >->

> On the roof of the LNHQ, a solitary figure suddenly appeared. In a cold,
> mechanical tone of voice, it began to recite:
> "Primary objective: cancellation of Legion of Net.Heroes line: ACHIEVED.
> Begin secondary objective: conversion of alt.comics.lnh."

Ohhhhh shit. :o Maybe this is what IMPLO does.

> "Ummm...do I know you?" replied Errand Boy, hesitantly.
> "Well, of course you do, son. You've been coming here for nigh onto four years
> now, ever since you helped found the Legion of Net.Heroes."

It's like a proto-Infinite Leadership Crisis.

> "ERROR: On-going semi-regular series detected. Move to cancel.

Okay, but how does IMPLO feel about series that are theoretically regular but 
haven't had an issue in a few years <-< Asking for a friend

> "Hey, fearless leader, what's goin' on? Where is everybody?"
> Copyright Kid turned to face him.


> In a flare of purple light, IMPLO disappeared.
> And reappeared, in a flare of green light, downstairs.

With the power of the Marvel villain palette!

> "This unit under orders to cancel all Legion of Net.Heroes titles, to make way
> for use of alt.comics.lnh as base of operations for the Master.

I am even more confused. Did one of the many villains in this storyline build 
IMPLO? Is the aforementioned Master someone else?

> Kid Anarky swung his claymore with all his might, aiming to decapitate IMPLO,
> figuring that, true to comic book logic, if you kill or otherwise dispose of
> robots with cosmic powers, anything they've done will be undone.
> IMPLO casually raised his arm and blocked the blow.
> "What the--?! That should have cut your arm right off! This sword can cut
> through anyth--"
> With seemingly no effort, IMPLO reached out and grabbed KA by the neck. He
> squeezed, and there was a hideously loud snapping noise.

Unfortunately, another bit of comic book logic is that in alternate timelines, 
people usually protected by Plot Armor have Reverse Plot Armor, causing them to 
die very easily and have next to no capacity for self-defense.

> Dropping the nearly unconscious Copyright Kid to the floor, IMPLO turned to
> face Errand Boy. Its cold, monotone drone sounded out once more: "Target:
> Errand Boy located. Aesthetic beauty of this unit has been compromised by
> target. Cancel with extreme prejudice."


> Suddenly, he raised
> his arm and began twirling Errand Boy in a circle over his head, much the same
> way that one would twirl a cat by its tail[um, not that *I* ever do such
> things--TS].

I. Should hope not. ^^;

> Errand Boy lay in a dazed, painful stupor; he couldn't have moved if he'd
> wanted to. Not even when IMPLO walked up to him, lifted him by the front of his
> costume, and said, "Errand Boy is cancelled." It then threw him against the
> wall again, for good measure.
> This time, he hit his head and lost consciousness. As he faded away, he thought
> he heard IMPLO saying, "Maul, indeed."


>   "That's corre..
> <shift>
>            <shift>
>      <shift>
> ...wrong.

I'm imagining a VHS-style horizontal roll with weird colors here.

>   "Benjamin! Jeremiah!" Bristle jams the flight.thingee into autopilot,
> runs back, and envelops the two boys in a great bear hug.
>   "Mo-om!"
>   "Cut it out!"
>   "You're acting like you haven't seen us for months!"

Awwwwwwwwww! ^.^ <3 <3 <3 Yes good, more superhero families.

>   "And.. touchdown! Go, Go, Go!" Thirteen U-Forcers barrel out of the
> flight.thingee, and converge on the building.


>   Seismic's earthquake blast mows down one door, as Hardcore crashes
> through the other. All sixteen U-Forcers rush into a huge hall...

Random LNHers who haven't shown up in a while are cameoing as U-Forcers for the 

>   "Of course it's a trap, you foolish Net.Heroes! I leaked the information
> of my whereabouts weeks ago! I *knew* the LNH would send somebody to
> investigate, and I was hoping it would be U-Force! Your raw genetic
> material will give me the power to build an *army* of superheroic clones!
> Ahahahaha! Ahaha.. hey, there's a lot more of you lately, isn't there?


>   "So it was *you*! You replaced Ultimate Ninja with a clone that you
> controlled, and then used him to try to kill me!"
>   "What? Oh, wow... Nope, wasn't me. Do you know how *hard* it is to do
> those custom jobs? It takes months to come up with a model that will fool
> even a casual aquaintance. No, mostly we do quick clones on a assembly-line
> process, making ready-to-order goons with high loyalty and so-so
> intellegence. The profit margins are incredible..."

I like her. XD

> For the last several months, he been trying to work out how to
> grasp that meaning and turn it to his advantage; he reasoned that it
> would be very useful indeed to combine a method of scrying out
> information with his favourite pastime; that way, he could hang around
> in bars and get slarnied whilst keeping up on all the occult news and
> events. The trouble, of course, lay in the way he rapidly became
> inebriated the closer he studied the problem, for close analysis
> called for, at the vary least, a staggering quantity of alcohol in
> order to have any hope of being successful; and the more he drank, the
> less sense the patterns made.

Heeheehee. <3

> 	"Oh. It`s you." Said GrimSloth as he recognised the
> figure. Withnail looked over at Grim.

Paul McGann! Or maybe Richard E. Grant! I can't remember which one was Withnail 
and which one was I.

> 	"Most of which involved manipulating some poor bugger to do
> the dirty work.

I mean, that's how NTBers roll, right? Unless they happen to *be* the poor 
buggers, of course.

> 	"Not as far as I know. Look, this is the problem, okay? We`re
> in the NTB, right?"
> 	"Whenever we can be bothered, yes."
> 	"Which means we have to put up with a higher level of
> realism. Even though what we do is even more ridiculous than the LNH,
> sometimes."

That's the catch-22 of "realism", I'm afraid. Never touch the stuff m'self.

> "As if
> we didn`t have enough crap to deal with. There`s an NTB crossover
> going on as well that`s trying to drag us in."

Hmmmmm - which was this, now?

> 	"So why hasn`t it? Shit, I`d rather be in an NTB story than an
> LNH story..."

I just don't *get* some people. So it goes.

> 	"Okay. So what do we do about it?"
> 	"I was hoping you`d have some ideas."
> 	"Um." Grim paused. "How about treacherously manipulating the
> LNHers into doing the dirty work for us?"


> 	The net was bunched up in a turmoil around the nexus of it
> all: rec.arts.comics.creative. GrimSloth and Withnail rode an
> anonymous account into the newsgroup, an unstable, dangerous ride, but
> far safer than just logging into it normally would have been.

So, I'm imagining a bright white-gray-peach expanse with curving curling glowing 
tubular strands heading into an enormous, city-sized snarling ball of strands. 
GrimSloth and Withnail are riding inside a vehicle, something like a transparent 
rectangular prism with rounded corners, sitting on transparent seats, connected 
to the tubular strand beneath them by a minecart-style wheel. There's a 
public-bus-style readout on the top front of the vehicle that says "RACC" in 
amber letters.

This has been a peek into my mind, and what happens when I read an abstract 
description like that.

> 	"Christ. It`s worse than I thought," said Withnail. Even the
> corridors were being wantonly retconned, madly shifting and reshaping
> themselves.

Yeah, that usually happens off-panel.

> What they
> found was the control room, wherein Multi-Tasking Man was monitoring
> several situations involving LNHers, constructing a new episode of
> Doom based upon the LNHQ, listening to five symphonies at the same
> time and composing an angry letter to Image complaining about early
> deliveries of comics.

a.) Oh, I want to play an FPS level like that.
b.) Heh. Complaining that comics get delivered *early*. @.@ Can we break 
Diamond's monopoly now, plz?

> "Things are just generally strange right now. We could use
> some help from the Legion of Occult Heroes." The two trenchcoaters
> boggled. They found themselves to be wearing colourful but clearly
> mystical spandex costumes underneath their trenchcoats. "Check in with
> Occultism Kid, if you can find him. He probably needs some help."
> 	GrimLad looked at Mr. Trenchcoat with quiet despair. And then
> summed up how they both felt.
> 	"Oh, shit."

:D I love how this is how one of the most lauded LNH series begins.

Drew "genre crossovers = yes" Perron

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