LNH: Classic LNH Adventures #21: RETCON HOUR Gamma

Arthur Spitzer arspitzer at earthlink.net
Tue Jun 7 17:29:11 PDT 2016

In this weeks reposting of stuff you can find in the eyrie archive
we have the third part of RETCON HOUR.

For the seventh issue of the Retcon Hour crossover we have some more
Martin Phipps's Generation Y with a little help from Mike Escutia.

The eighth issue is U-Force #8 by Robert "Mystic Mongoose" Armstrong who
among other things was responsible for making Limp Asparagus Lad more
than just a Character Example in the LNH FAQ.

And finally the ninth issue we have some more Matt "Badger" Rossi
with Swordmaster and the Load Island Renegades #12.

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

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

                                     ADVENTURES #21

                            RETCON HOUR Gamma

From: Jeff J McCoskey <jjmcc at ix.netcom.com>
Newsgroups: rec.arts.comics.creative
Date: 20 Feb 1997 21:40:11 -0800

Author Credits:  RH7 -- Martin Phipps, RH7.5 -- Robert Armstrong,
		 RH8 -- Matt Rossi

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                           #8 -- Parallels
            RETCON HOUR 5 -- Collector's Item FINAL ISSUE!
                  By Martin Phipps with Mike Escutia

Last issue we learned that the Time Crapper had managed to create a
temporal destabilisation during the creation of rec.arts.comics.creative,
one that caused reality to deform abruptly and to seemingly random
effect: Pizza Girl's uncle, Captain Cleanup, Squeaky Clean and Typo Lad
all fell victim to being retconned out of continuity!

Then, in System Corruptors #16, we learned of the Time Crapper's plan
to divert suspicion away from Contraption Man by framing Myk-El, thus
allowing Contraption Man continue his work on the Chrono-Combobulator.
wReamhack, along with Generation Y members Pizza Girl, Bizarre Boy,
Continuity Champ Junior and Bad-Timing Boy, were seeking to uncover the
truth by exuming Myk-El's body from Net.ropolis Cemetary when an armored
foe suddenly emerged from the darkness!

  "Myk-El?"  wReamhack's mouth suddenly felt dry.  "It can't be you!"
  "No.  Wh-rrrrr-e once lived Myk-El, now unlife c-calls me SQUALOR!"
  Continuity Champ nodded firmly.  "Alright, Legionaires!  It's
morphin' time!"
  "What?!" Pizza Girl asked.
  "Quickly!" wReamhack told her.  "Grab your power morpher!"
  "My what?!"
  "Just reach behind your back... stupid," Bad-Timing Boy hissed.
  Continuity Champ Junior reached behind his back and grabbed what
appeared to be a large ring, held it out in front of him and said
"CONTINUITY CHAMP JUNIOR!"  His teammates followed his example.
  "Uh... PIZZA GIRL!"
  There was a flash of light and everyone appeared in costume.  "POWER
LEGIONAIRES!" Pizza Girl's four teammates announced.
  "You're history, Squalor!" Continuity Champ Junior told him.
  "You wonnn't sss-stop me, Legionaires!"
  Pizza Girl was stunned to notice that everyone's costume had changed:
Bad-Timing Boy's was now completely green while Continuity Champ
Junior and Bizarre Boy had seemingly switched costume's -- except that
they were now monochromatically red and black, respectively; wReamhack,
meanwhile, wore what appeared to be a variation of Insomnia Boy's
costume.  She looked down at her own costume and tears welled up in her
  "Give it up, Squalor!" Bizarre Boy taunted.
  "HAHAHA!  You'rrre nnno match forrr me, Legionaires!"
  "We'll just see about that!" wReamhack declared triumphantly.
  "Take th-that!"
  "AIIIEEE!!!"  Fireworks exploded from Squalor's armor, throwing
our heros back.
  "Alright, let's finish him!" Continuity Champ Junior ordered.  Pizza
Girl just sat there as her teammates landed punches and kicks on
Squalor's armor.
  "Arrrgh!  Currrse you, Legionaires!"  Squalor's SunStation powered
up and, in a flash of light, he vanished.
  "And don't come back!" Bad-Timing Boy insisted, raising his fist in
the air.
  Bizarre Boy noticed Pizza Girl leanning against one of the headstones.
"Aili, is something wrong?"
  She looked up at him.  He could now see that she was crying.  "Look
at me!  I'm in... YELLOW!"
  Bad-Timing Boy took a deep sigh.  "Just like a girl."
  "Quiet!" Continuity Champ Junior insisted.
  Bizarre Boy went to console her.  "Aili... aren't you glad to see we
defeated Squalor."
  Pizza Girl frowned.  "How?  You just stood there threating each other
and then after knocking him around a bit he just disappeared!"
  Bad-Timing Boy's eyes rolled back.  "But that's what always happens!"
  "Yeah!" concurred wReamhack.  "We always win because we're the
Power Legionaires!"
  Pizza Girl got up.  "NO WE'RE NOT!"
  "Get away from me!  ALL OF YOU!"  Pizza Girl ran towards Legion
headquarters with tears streaming down her cheeks.
  Bizarre Boy moved to go after her but wReamhack held him back.  "No,
Biz, we have to get back to what we were doing!"
  "But Aili --!"
  "Isn't going to get better until we get to the bottom of this!"
  "He's right," Continuity Champ Junior concurred, "it's the only
lead we've got."  He handed Bizarre Boy a shovel and Bizarre Boy
reluctantly took it.  Continuity Champ Junior patted him on the
shoulder.  "Alright, let's get back to work."  Bizarre Boy's teammates
all picked up their own shovels.  They all proceeded to dig, hoping
that they'd soon find some clue as to what was going on.

Meanwhile, back in Legion Headquarters:

  Echo Lad wearily shuffled down the corridor to his quarters.  The past
twenty-four hours had been the equivalent of a nightmare.  He knew Pliable Lad
had developed an attitude problem, but was still caught off-guard when he
turned Evil, attacking the group of LNHers he was with.  He still hurt all over
from where Pli had hit him, and he had a bit of a headache, too.
	He should have seen it coming.  As Pliable Lad's sidekick, he had
a responsibility to his mentor.  A sidekick was supposed to help the hero
he or she worked with through difficult times, and Pli's unexplainable person-
ality change certainly counted.  But every time he tried to talk to Pli, the
older net.hero would refuse to listen, even going so far as to yell at him to
go away.  In the several months that they had been a team, he had never seen
such behavior in his mentor.  It was like he was a whole different person.
  Echo Lad turned the corner, and nearly bumped into Kid Unknown.  The
mysterious, masked newcomer was coming from the part of the building where
his quarters were, several dozen rooms down from Echo Lad's.  Echo Lad had
heard that Multi-Tasking Man had assigned the stranger to Amorphous Lad's
old quarters, its previous occupant having recently left on a leave of absence.
  "Sorry sorry sorry, Kid kid kid Unknown unknown unknown," Echo Lad
  "It is not your fault," Kid Unknown said.
"Tell me, what do you know about the previous occupant of my quarters?"
  "Amorphous amorphous amorphous Lad lad lad???" Echo Lad mused.
"He he he has has has shapeshifting shapeshifting shapeshifting powers
powers powers like like like Pliable pliable pliable Lad lad lad, but
but but I I I don't don't don't think think think I've I've I've
ever ever ever seen seen seen him him him use use use them them them.
Why why why???"
  Kid Unknown seemed to hesitate for a brief moment.  "Just... curious,"
he said.
  "Do do do you you you think think think we we we can can can stop stop
stop Pliable pliable pliable Lad lad lad?" Echo Lad asked hesitantly.
  "If he was not supposed to be stopped," Kid Unknown said in a lowered
voice.  "I would not be here."  He hurried off down the corridor, leaving Echo
Lad to ponder the meaning of his words.
  One thing was certain:  Kid Unknown knew more than he was telling.  A
*lot* more.
  But where did Amorphous Lad fit into all this?

Meanwhile, back in Net.ropolis Cemetary:

  "So you're telling me this was all a waste of time?!"
  "Hardly, BTB," wReamhack told him, "after all if this really is
Myk-El then who is Squalor?"
  "But we still have more questions than answers!" Bizarre Boy
  "Take it easy, friend," Continuity Champ Junior said.  "We all care
about Pizza Girl."
  "It's not the same for you!" Bizarre Boy insisted.
  Continuity Champ Junior was about to say something when a seven foot
tall ectomorph appeared: he was completely completely covered from
head to toe in a glittering purple and green costume.  He extended a
bony arm and lifted one of his abnormally long fingers.
  "What do _you_ want?" Bad-Timing Boy asked.
  The ectomorph looked down on Bad-Timing Boy.  "Generation Y is


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Maximum Stimulation Press presents:

***   ***   **********************************
***   ***   ***
***   ***   ***      ***   * ***   ****  *****
***   ***   ******  ** **  *****  *****  ** **
**** ****   ***     ** **  **     **     *****
*********   ***     ** **  **     *****  **
 *******    ***      ***   **      ****  *****

I  ****  Exciting Eighth Issue of: United-Force
S **  ** "Icon, Yukon, Retcon": RETCON HOUR 7.5 written by:
S  ****  The Mystic Mongoose, aka Robert W. Armstrong
U **  ** This issue dedicated to: Ben Dunn
E  ****  Because he's just a cool guy.

'Maximum Stimulation Press' and 'MaxStim', are copyrighted 1993,1994 by
Maximum Stimulation Enterprises. U-Force characters, names, likenesses, 
and indica are copyright 1993, 1994 Maximum Stimulation Press.  This story 
is the copyrighted property of MaxStim, 1994, and may not be sold or altered 
without the express consent of the writers and creators. No similarity to
anything appoximating the real world is intended, except for parody or satirical

U-Force is created by Robert W. Armstrong, with certain elements created by
Kristen Armstrong and Jonathan Trull.
Pocket Man is copyright and created Gary St. Lawrence.
Organic Lass is copyright and created Rebecca Drayer.
All other characters are either Public Domain or are copyright MaxStim.


The Story Before:
  U-Force was teleported from their home dimension into a bizzare 
univese somewhat resembling the Looniverse, and from there, into the 
Looniverse. There, U-Force first fought with and later joined the LNH. They
battled a giant robot, and one of them- Optik- has been paralyzed and must
wear an exosuit. 
  Recently, Nightbeast's intitiation fight with Ultimate Ninja went
incredibly awry, as Ultimate Ninja tried to kill Nightbeast. And, in a 
strange twisting of time, UN actually succeded. [See the infamous U-Force
  Most of this story, of course, is completely false.

  U-Force is: Argonaut, Bristle, Hardcore, Nightbeast, Optik, Tourniquet.


  Deep within the bowels of the LNHQ, in a dark, secret room...

  "All of you here. Good. This is about the only room in LNHQ I can
guarantee is safe from observation."
  "So you believe my story." 
  "We both do, Nightbeast." Ori sits behind the desk, clasping Pocket Man's
hand tight. "We went over the fight carefully on videotape."
  "*Our* videotape. The one Hardcore was filming during the fight."
  "Oh, yeah. Thanks for letting me borrow that, Ori."
  "<shrug> No problem. We hardly use it.."
  "Why did we get that in the first place, honey?"
  "It was a wedding present from Continuity Champ Junior, dear. Which
reminds me, we still have to do those thank-you cards.."
   "Mmm-hmm." .o(Egads. Thank-you cards.) "In any case, U-Force, that
was the *only* recording of the event. We found out that the regular Peril
Room logs and videotapes of the fight had been completely erased. But this 
tape clearly shows Ultimate Ninja dodging well before the missles were 
within his field of vision. He clearly *did* know about the 'malfunction'."
  "I knew it. I'm gonna kill that sonuva.."
  "Whoa there! We're going to have to find out why he did it before trying 
anything drastic. There are a number of villains out there that could be 
doing something to manipulate UN. Some could even be acheiving it without
his knowledge. Assuming, of course, that that was UN you faced. We'll take
this slow for now."
  "How the *$&% are we supposed to function in the meantime? Ultimate Ninja
could try again, and I might not be so lucky. Or he could come after Optik,
or Bristle, or even one of you!"
  "That's why we're going to take some precautions. Firstly, we're shifting
your quarters to a new floor and using the old ones for storage space.
Secondly, we're making sure that we don't get connected with you... just as
a precaution. That's why we're down here in one of the sub-basements.
Thirdly, all of you will now be eating at local restaurants, and not
  "AT LAST! I was getting sick of cheesecake..."
  "Oh, hush up, Argonaut." Hardcore gives him one of those 'This isn't the 
time for levity' looks.
  "It's just an attempt to shift your daily patterns. And, finally, we'll 
be handling your mission planning for you, at least until we decide what to
do next. You'll still have plenty of freedom, as all LNHers do. In 
emergency situations, though, come to us."
  "Got it. Anything else?"
  "Now that that's taken care of, I've got some good news."
  "We could sure use it."
  "Now, you recall that Kid Kirby told you you'd passed through another 
dimesion on your way here."
  "He was wrong. We've discovered that it was, in fact, *this* universe.
What you experienced was a variant timestream. The second portal actally 
shifted you into this present timestream."
  "How did you find this out?"
  "Contraption Man didn't do a very good job cleaning up after himself."
Pok hefts a sheaf of files. "He deliberately shifted you into the 
'alternate' timestream to delay your entry here. It was the first in a
series of retcons that paved the way for the trouble he's caused since. 
It's completely unreconcilable within one timestream, and has caused a 
series of minute diversions. In any case, we'e also discovered that he's
hacked into the Roster." 
  "So *he* was the one who tampered with our files."
  "Actually, Master Roster Man and I checked. Given the new data we have, 
everything in your entries was correct. You really *did* enter that 
timestream in September, and you exited in May... even though it seemed 
like only a few minutes. His roster makes perfect sense if you look at it
the right way. Unfortunately, he's also done heavy re-working on some other
roster files. Kid Macro. Pliable Lad. The Legion of Occult Heroes. It's all
a mess."
  "Never mind that. What you're saying is that we came directly into the
  "Yes. There are no residual vibrations from another universe."
  "So.. we can go back any time?"
  "Ironically, the problem is time. Currently, the Looniverse is in its
worst state of temporal choas ever. You, indirectly, are responsible, since
it was Contraption Man's retconning of your entry that has helped fragment 
time. With the timestream as screwed up as it is, I'd much rather not risk
it until things are settled."
  "Alright. Now.. what precisely is the trouble with time?" 
 "All sorts of weird stuff.. new and old LNHers popping in and out of
existence, the past being changed, memories variously altered. Contraption
Man and some other villains have been heavily messing around with time, and
we don't yet know how to stop it. All our top brains are stuck on the 
 "Still no word from them?"
  "Nope. They're alive and well, but communication is absolutely down. 
We're going to have to send someone to try again."
 "In that case, I'll go." A normal, non-descript man enters the room...
  "Who's he?"
  "Paul Damant. He got teleported with us into the Looniverse."
  "Oh," says Organic Lass, "You're the one that's been helping Domestic
Lad and wReamhack. But... you don't have any powers, though."
  "That's why I *should* go. No reason to lose anyone good, eh?  I'm the
right candidate for the job. Expendable."
  "No way. We can't ask you to put your life on the line for us."
  "Look, Pocket Man," he began, "being with the LNH these past months has
taught me a little bit about heroism. You folks risk your lives every day
for no reward but knowing you've done the right thing. 
  Now, this is going to be one of the few situations in which I might be
able to help. Let me take the risk. It's what I have to do."
  "Pshew... well, I'm still not in favor of it. But if you feel that way,
then I won't stop you."
  "I'll take him to the transporters, Pok."
  "Okay, honey. Paul.. Good luck. I hope you can find out what's wrong."
  "Come on, Paul, let's go to the transorter room."


  "Let's activate this already, eh?"
  "Relax, Paul. Just have to make sure these are set... sure you want to do
  "Absolutely. Ready when you are."
  "Okay. 3..2..1.. *activate*!"


  Paul blinked, and found himself in a futuristic room with a good-sized
table in the middle. Sitting at the table were a number of Net.heroes he
recognized.. and a few he didn't.
  "Another visitor! Well, this is turning into quite the party! Who are 
you, lad?"
  "Paul Damant. Mr. Kirby, I have an urgent message from LNHQ."
  "I have to tell you about.. about.. oh, *($%, I've forgotten."
  "Couldn't have been that important. So, care to join us in a game?"
  "Ummm... eh, sure, why not? What do we have?"
  "Whatever you want. The computer can manufacture any game instantly. just
go over to that terminal."
  Paul heads over, and types solidly for about half a minute. The computer
whirrs, and a robot slides out from a compartment in the wall, bearing a
hexagonal box.
   "Well," Paul says as he lifts the lid, revealing a hexagonal board, 14
white and 14 black marbles, "Has anyone ever heard of Abalone?"


  "Now, are you all prepared for your next mission?"
  "We are ready to serve, Pocket Man. We'll do our best."
  "I expect no less from you seven."
  "Thank you, Pocket Ma... what did you say?"
  "'I expect no less from you seven.'" Pok sees the puzzlement on
their faces. "What... what's wrong?"
  "PM, there's only six of us in U-Force. Well, in this dimension, anyway."
  "Nonsense! There's Nightbeast, Argonaut, Splitscreen.."
  "I'm going by Optik now, actually..."
  "Oh? When did you switch?"
  "Right after we fought with those robots, remember?"
  "Robots? I don't remeber any ro.. Oh. Oh, no.. the retcons. They're
starting to hit me. I've got to try to remember what really happened...
wait, how many of there are you?"
  "No. No, it's all wrong! Then how do you explain *him*?"
  U-Force turn around suddenly, as a muscular hero stands sillhouetted in
the doorway. He walks boldly into the room...

  "Sorry I'm late, guys. New Look Lass and I were just having lunch, and 
I... hey, what's the matter?"
  "Wha.. huh.."
  Pocket Man quickly interjects. "Guys, you seem.. surprised to
see him."
  "Can I see you for a second, Pok? I need you to.. double-check the 
thurman on my communicator. It's been acting up." Argonaut quickly
  "Sure. In the meantime, guys, why don't you.. brief Backlash on the
situation." The two heroes move into the hall, closing the door behind 
them. "Let me guess.. he's not supposed to be here."
  "Bingo. Even though he *is* a U-Forcer."
  "Let me explain. Back on our earth, U-Force is the chief superhero group 
in North America. At last count, we had over twenty-five members, and 
that's only including the meta-humans. Backlash is a long-time member- 
heck, he's the commander. But there were only six of us that went through
the portal. He doesn't belong here."
  "Oh, crap. Looks like the retconning is hitting you guys as well. Your
universe must have a lower RR-value."
  .o(Good thing I read Kid Kirby's "PluRealities and Multi-Universal
Physics for Dummies" book last week.)  Pocket Man takes a deep
breath, and begins. "The principal cause of all the timestream trouble has
been the shifting of the universal anchor, from alt.comics.lnh to 
rec.arts.comics.creative. Now, it's mostly been affecting the Looniverse,
because barriers have been placed to block the effects from damaging or
interfering with other ones. *But*, those barriers are actually contained
within the other univeres, for otherwise they too could be retconned.
  "Now, each universe has an RR-value, or Retcon Resistance Value, that 
measures the ability of that universe to resist attepts to alter the 
timestream. The Looniverse's is quite low, one of the lowest known. Some 
universes, like the Patrollers Universe or Earth-Prime [The one we're 
living on, folks. -TMM], have quite high values, nearly infinite.
  "Each barrier, as I understand it, might warp slightly dependent upon the
RR-value. Yours obviously warped quite a bit, allowing major retcons to
occur in your universe. In the revised past, the portal was altered enough
to allow him to come though." 
  "Pshew. Quite heavy. So... what are we gonna do?" 
  "Hmm.. I'd say nothing. This is the Backlash that you know. [And *not* 
that dork from Image's _The Kindred_. -TMM] Looks like your team just grew
by one. But.. just to be sure, keep an eye on him."
  "Hrmf. Okay. It won't be easy.. he'll be in charge of the team. It might 
be quite tricky to take control if nessecary."
  "Just do your best, Argonaut. Now, let's get back inside before he 
suspects something."


  "..Wait a minute! When did Squidman come back? I thought he was still
  "No way! We saw him at the... oh, Pok, Jason! You guys fix it?"
  "Yes. Now, we've got a new mission for you eight to perfor..." Pocket Man
looks slowly at Argonaut, who has blanched.
  "Eight?" Argonaut mouths silently.
  "Not again!" mouths Pok back.
  "Greetings, all."
  "Pointblank! I was wondering when you'd get here!", says Backlash.
  "I and Master Blaster were in the Peril Room, doing a spot of target
practice. My word, that lad couldn't hit the.."
  Meanwhile, Argonaut is giving a quick rundown of the situation to the 
original team. By the time Pointblank has wrapped up his story, everyone's
in the know.
  "Ahem. Pocket Man, please give us the mission details." 
  "Before we get even more members.", adds Optik under his breath.
  "Alright, then. There's a new villain that's been building a heavy power
base as of late. She calls herself 'The Controller'. Powers unknown, 
background unknown. All we know is, she's very rich and getting even richer
through huge sales of *something* to major players in the Looniverse.  You 
name the bad guy, he's had dealings with her."
  "Some sort of Mafia-related operation?" Backlash asks.
  "We honestly have no idea. That's what *you're* going to find out. We've 
found a laboratory of hers in the Yukon territory. I want you to take the 
team and investigate. Destroy the lab if need be, and if she's there,
capture her."
  "10-4. When do we begin?"
  "As soon as you can get to the hangar. Here's all the info you'll need." 
Pocket Man hands a packet of paper to Argonaut.
  "Pass me those, Argonaut?"
  "I'm not done wi.. oh, yeah. Here you go, Backlash." .o(Ah, $#%&*.)


  "U-Force again. Come to wreck another flight.thingee?"
  "Oh, come off it, Parking Karma Kid. You know that wasn't our fault."
  "I know, I know. It's just.. never mind. How big of one do you need?"
  "We have to seat eight people.. but you'd better make it twelve, just to
be on the safe side."
  "There've been.. what was the word Pocket Man used? Oh, yes. 'Retcons'."
  "Gotcha. Go to flight bay D and take the Altra. It's our largest one."
  "Okay. On board, everybody... and off to Ca.net.da we go!"

  The first in a series of guides helping you, the reader, better picture 
my characters. How To Visualize will be popping up in U-Force and other
MaxStim titles.

  Backlash is in his mid-twenties, and is chubbily muscular- the build of a
nose guard. He's Caucasian, of with straight black hair, brown eyes,
and a handsome face.
  Backlash wears a bodysuit, black on the legs and stomach and red on
the chest and arms. The black area peaks in the middle of the chest and
slants down at a 45-degree angle, ending at mid-waist. Overtop the
bodysuit, he wears golden shoulder pads that intersect over the chest.
Think Triumph from the real recent JLA, but larger and composed of lots of
horizontal slats. His mask is a bright red bandana- think the Eastman&Laird
  How To Visualize (TM) Maximum Stimulation Press.


Additional credits:
Abalone is tm and copyright Abalone Games.

Next Issue: The face-off against the Controller begins, as time starts
falling apart. How can U-Force defeat a ever-growing army of clones? Maybe
by growing themselves... RETCON HOUR continues in this issue! Coming soon 
from MaxStim!


The Mystic Mongoose, aka Robert W. Armstrong
"Contemplation is the fornication of the mind." -Gary Benson

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Narcoleptic Dogs Press, Under Duress but hoping it will work out
for the betterment of all involved, feels the need to present...

Room a Thousand Years Wide

Tomorrow begat tomorrow
Begat tomorrow
Begat tomorrow
A thousand doors a thousand lies
Rooms a thousand years wide
--Soundgarden, Room a Thousand Years Wide

Okay, to recap: If you've been reading all the various RETCON HOUR
nonsense that's been coming out, then you know that the Time
Crapper has begun a fiendish plan to bring Time Unstuck, and is
using the powerful energy surge that ReFoDis the RACCelestial
created in the formation of RACC, focused through the Universal
Anchor that the evil Contraption Man built, to accomplish his aims.
This has thrown the LNH into a tizzy. Meanwhile, Swordy, CAW, and
the Rodent, along with Swordy's dad, are adrift in time, and the
energy of Time Travel has created dopplegangers of the team under
the control of a later version of the Time Crapper. Now, lions are
going to eat our heroes in the coliseum. Everybody caught up?
I wish I was.

     *    *    *         *    *    *         *    *    *

     Swordmaster thought quickly as the lions came rushing through
the gate to munch on his teammates and he. "CAW! Hoist everybody
up on your shoulders, and kick any lion that gets too close!"

     "Gotcha, Joel! But what about you?"

     "Let's just say that I'm hardly going to be on PETA's
Christmas list anytime soon." Forging a sword from his own inborn
power, Swordmaster leapt a good twenty feet straight up. Most
Romans, unaccustomed to men leaping like that, and most lions,
equally unused to that sort of thing, just stopped dead, shocked.
A couple of lions began reading a book by C.S. Lewis, but didn't
like the ending at all. Swordmaster landed in the midst of the
carnivorous predatorial cats (WOOW! The author's using that
thesaurus he got for Christmas. SPIFFY!) swinging his sword and
hacking through them. (Note: Look, this is a Roman Coliseum, okay?
It's kill or be killed.)

     Meanwhile, CAW began his impression of Micheal Douglas in _A
Chorus Line_, kicking and moving to beat the band. One should only
beat the band when they've been naughty, though. Finally, the
horrible, bloody carnage was ended. Swordmaster looked up at the
crowd, about to say something indignant to them in a language that
they wouldn't understand anyway, when he felt that queasy sensation
that comes with time travel.

     "Oh, no."

     Pop. They were spiralling through time again. It was enough
to make Patsy Klein cry. But then again, almost anything could do
that, really. The woman was very emotional. Then the stalwart group
wrenched out of the time stream and onto a beuatiful crimson
carpet. None of them moved for a while. Then a dazed Swordmaster
picked his head up off the ground. "Oooh...Mommy, Davy fall down,
go boom." Something about the lush carpet, the stone walls, the
dozens of guys in armor, the dude sitting on the throne wearing a
crown with a really neat looking sword buckled to his belt,
something about it all said "Throneroom" to him.

     "Who are you knaves, and what business have you in Camelot?"

     Swordmaster prayed that Bing Crosby wasn't involved in this
somehow. The last thing he needed was mellow crooning.

     *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *

     In the LNH Computer Room, the Dark Renegades had just
completed taking over the computer system by defeating Kid
Chivalry, Multi-Tasking Man and Sarcastic Lad, and TIMMY, the dark
version of CAW, had plugged himself into the computer system.

     "TIMMY, what's the hold up?"

     "I'm doing my best, Dark Swordy, okay? It's just hard to
handle the subroutines on this thing...I have to Multi-task myself
to the limit just to keep up...YES! It's GOOD! Die, you little
gopher bastar.."

     "TIMMY, no Caddyshack referencing. Hurry up and set this place
to destroy the LNH! I'll report back to the master." Dark Swordy
used the same Temporal Cell Phone he used in System Corruptors #16
(Get it now! Co-Written by Jazzy Jeff McCoskey and the ol' Badger
himself! Packed with essential letters and minerals, it's the
delicious treat that's good for you!) to call the Time Crapper.


     "We have the computer, Master. We've set it to attack everyone
but ourselves...and you."

     "What about Contraption Man?"

     "The base's defenses will attack him as well."

     "And my previous self?"

     "They'll go for him, too. Only your magnificence, the Crapped
Crapper, and we loyal minions are exempted. As you have commanded."
Drak Sword was beginning to squeak. It was tough, making a progress
report while holding your breath, but when you happen to be a
minion of the Time Crapper, especially the later, fully crappy
crapper, you learn to do it.

     "Excellent! HAHAHHAHAHAHAHAH! I know the final battle will
take place in LNH HQ, and how ironic that the very place
Contraption Man and wReamicus will desire to go will be the place
that will kill them. How VERY ironic!"

     "Master, why are you talking like Dan Gannon?"

     "Sorry. It's been a rough crossover event. Return through the
time gate once you are done. I have another task for you." The
pungent stench of the Crapper, which carried across eternity even,
finally stopped. And started again, barely giving Dark Sword a
chance to suck in a breath and hold it. "And stop holding your

     "Yes, master." Dark Sword felt spots bursting into black roses
in front of his eyes. The colors. Look at the pretty...finally in
a great gasp, he let the air out and took a deep, shuddering
breath. "Ahhh, polluted diesel fumes and burning gasoline. Such a
beautiful smell!"

     Just then, a robotic nightmare entered the
room. It pointed a huge metallic talon at the Evil Retcon
of the LIR. "Swordmaster and the LIR is canceled." It intoned.

     "Tell us something we don't know, Jack!"

     "Yeah, we've been in our final story arc since issue seven!"

     "Really?" IMPLO looked around sheepishly. "I don't suppose
you'd mind picking up the pace a bit on that, would you?"

     "Naah." Dark Sword looked at the Rabid Rat, still out cold
since Occultism Kid got halfway through a spell during their
invasion of the headquarters in System Corruptors #16. "Besides,
by the looks of things on those monitors...everybody is going to
be canceled soon."

     *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *

     The Rac.ctre balanced the latest planet to arrive on top of
his head, grunting. He was bent around like a pretzel, earths
butting against every part of his body he could interpose like a
determined man playing a form of Twister thought up by Nazi Milton
Bradley workers. And more were coming.

     The Rac.ctre isn't given to panic. Heck, not much scares you,
once you're dead and all, but this was beyond a bad situation. This
was intolerable. And really undignified, too. Why, if the other
grim guardians of justice saw this, he could get thrown out of the

     He began chanting, his gravelly voice dredging across space-
time like fingers on a chalkboard. Slowly he began to grow again,
until he dwarfed the incoming planets. They fit into his massive
hands, and he began grabbing alternate earth after alternate earth,
juggling them so they would not collide.

     "Oh, this is getting really bad for my image."

     *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *

     "I've never seen a ghostly haunter juggle planets before."
The Radiant Rollerblader, remember him? Way back in issue ten he
showed up briefly? Anyway, due to his Power Almost-Cosmic, he was
able to watch the desperate gambit (Miss me, chere?) of the
Rac.ctre as time was running out for the various alternate earths.
"I hope Da'Jaconar is taping this. The ratings would go through the

     The Whip and Warbabe were about to say something snide about
being wrapped in chains since issue nine, but then a glazed look
came into their eyes. As if a voice from System Corruptors #16 was
speaking to them, a voice that they couldn't resist. The Warbabe
flexed her massive, Silvestri-esque arms, and the magical chains
around her snapped. "Must go. Must win."

     The Whip just went limp and slid through the confining chains
like butter, something she had been unable to do until freed by the
all powerful summons of the RACCelestial Madonna Pageant. She
gathered up her whips as Warbabe gathered her various firearms.
Just as they were preparing to leave, the Digressor walked down the

     "I really should check on you more...you're free! How
reminiscent of..."

     "Shut up." Warbabe, still under the spell, was immune to the
dithering of the Digressor. Several stakes ripped into him, an
ignominious yet strangely fitting end to the babbling bambino, and
he crumpled into a heap. The two women looked at each other, and
then began walking up the stairs.

     "Hey, ladies? You aren't going to leave me chained here, are


     "Oh well. I was just asking." The Rollerblader watched them
leave. If he had the brains God gave a gnat, he'd have probably
been able to get out on his own, but luckily for him, with the
departure of Ida last issue and the death of the Digressor this
issue, nobody was maintaining the magic chains. They melted off him
like a Klondike Bar in Death Valley. What would you do for a
Klondike Bar, mayhap?

     "Cool. Stick, to me!" The azure goalie's stick slid up and
smacked smartly into his palm. (Hey! aLLiterative Lass! Get away
from that keyboard!) He concentrated for a second. "Now, where can
I go to find people that can help me stop this? Hmmm...HEY! How
about the Drizztsat?" With a blue flash, he dissapeared.

     On the Drizztsat, a massive game of Jenga was in progress,
when the Rollerblader popped in, landing directly on the tower
Continuity Champ was making. Everybody jumped back, Kid Kirby
looking dramatic and prespectively impeccable as he did so, Deja
Dude and the Drizzt in surprise, and Continuity Champ threw up his
hands. "I can't WIN! Hey, who are you, anyway? I JUST get you guys
to switch back to Jenga from Deckmaster, and this bozo wrecks my
Tower of Babel."

     "Uh, I'm the Radiant Rollerblader, Da'Jaconar's former

     "Why have you come here?" Kid Kirby was feeling a little off
himself. He knew he had come for another reason besides playing
party games himself, but was unsure of what it could be.

     The Rollerblader, being far less intelligent than Kid Kirby,
didn't have a Mormon's chance in Iran of remembering against the
Temporal Loop. "Uhhh..I know I _had_ a reason..."

     "Never mind." Said the Drizzt. "Stick around. I got a deluxe
masters edition of OPERATION I've been wanting to try out around
here somewhere."

     *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *    *

     NOTE: The following paragraph, featuring Swordmaster and the
LIR interacting with King Arthur's court, is being guest written
by little Billy Keane, age seven, son of Bill Keane, writer of The
Family Circus newspaper comic strip. We thought it would be good
for him.
     (NO! I don' wanna, dad!)
     {Son, you know that daddy owes large gambling debts to that
nice mister Badger, and if you don't do this he'll...}
     (He'll what, dad?)
     {Never mind, Just Guest-Write the thing!}

     "You are a poo-poo head, Lance a jerk!"

     "Am not!"

     "Are too!"

     "Let's fight!"


     NOTE: That was the writing of little Billy Keane. Let's give
the boy a hand, shall we? [You are a dead man, Keane.]
     {Look, I told you he'd be little use to you..}

     "Why were we just talking like that? What happened?"
Swordmaster, a trifle disoriented, still made a dueling broadsword
and met Lancelot in the center of the throneroom. Their blades
slammed together with a tremendous clash, the greatest knight in
the world against the best swordsman alive. Sparks flew from their
blades, a natural end result of Swordmaster's electric blade. THe
whirling combat began roaming around the room. CAW and Modred set
up a table offering odds on the fight.

     "Ygraine oddsmakers give Lancelot a three to one favorite
standing against the mysterious outlander. Place your bets!"

     "Don't get taken, folks! That's just Lance's home royal court
advantage. Swordmaster'll teach him the true meaning of
Leaxatalionaddisapathy! C'mon, lay some money on a true winner!"

     Lancelot smiled his perfect, even, best knight in the world
smile that would cost most humans years of painful dental work to
acquire, but which comes naturally to him (Considering the dentists
in the early middle ages still use rocks as anaesthetic, most
people let theirs rot out.) Swordmaster was imapssive under his
red and black mask. "Are you ready to yield to the better man,

     "Sure! Do you know where he is, so that after I kick you from
here to that lake you come from, I can do so?" Swordmaster executed
a perfect Parsis defense, which only has two attack options. The
first is to flip over the wall of steel and attack from behind,
which Lancelot couldn't do in that armor of his. The second is to
come in low and from the left, under the arc of the swords.
Lancelot chose that option.

     It was a mistake. Swordy blocked him deftly, and with a
scissoring motion disarmed his opponent. Then he delivered a smart
roundhouse right just as Lancelot's visor fell over his face. It
saved his teeth. The metal wrapped around his fist and made a noise
like a press secretary in the Clinton White House. Lancelot
dropped. A strange noise filled the hall, the collective sound of
all the knights of the round table sucking in air at once.

     "Okay, next?"

     "Nay, mighty stranger! You have more than proved your mettle
to us here at Camelot." Arthur strode down from his throne. "To any
man who could best the mighty Lancelot, I would offer my hand.
Indeed, to shake the hand of the greatest knight in the world would
be an honor." Swordmaster shook his hand, noticing it was one of
those firm manly ones only Kings seem good at.

     "Actually, if you want to shake the hand of the greatest
knight in the world, that'd still be Lancelot." CAW was collecting
his gold and getting the hairy eyeball from Modred, who was looking
for a soft spot on CAW's back to plunge a knife into. Not likely
to happen, thought Swordmaster, and quite a shock should he somehow
do so.

     "But, Man, we all saw you best him!"

     "Yeah, but I'm not a knight." Before any more could be said,
Swordmaster felt that familiar queasyness come over him. With that
quiet slip through the fabric of time, he and the boys and his dad
were sliding through time. They shot past a bubble with a confused
looking group of teenagers with silly capes and big yellow belts,
and then the distortion stabilized...

     ...and they smashed into the ground. It was a hardwood floor
with velvet ropes all around. As the guys got up, the Rodent began
his ritual vomiting jag (Great at parties! Fun for the whole
family!) and CAW tapped Swordmaster on the shoulder. "Hey, Joel,
a museum! We aren't home, but judging by those light bulbs, we're
closer, anyway. Say, what's wrong?"

     "I got that feeling..."

     "What kind of feeling?" Asked dad as the Rodent picked himself
up from his dryer than Arid Roll On heaves and walked over to where
the group had collected. He looked up at a Fez in a case.

     "...that queasy feeling..I think we've time jumped into a
cameo appearance."




     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:  RETCON HOUR Delta!!

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

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