LNH: Classic LNH Adventures #11: Saint Squad 2

Arthur Spitzer arspitzer at earthlink.net
Wed Mar 30 16:47:58 PDT 2016


In this weeks reposting of stuff you can find in the eyrie archive
https://archives.eyrie.org/racc/lnh/
we have Gary "The Saint" St. Lawrence's The Saint Squad #2 --
PassionFishing: The Proposal (as well as some add-ons by 
John "uplink" Scheibeler (creator of Frat Boy and Opinionated Lad)
and Hubert Bartels (creator of Panta)), which is about Saint's
Writer Character Pocket Man proposing to Rebecca Drayer's WC
Organic Lass all leading to the first LNH wedding.

The romance of the two characters started off in Todd "Scavenger"
Kogutt's Lurk of Faith miniseries.
  
https://archives.eyrie.org/racc/lnh/Series/501.Blues/Lurk.Faith.gz

After Pocket Man makes a rather jerkish comment that causes Rebel Yell
 to punch him, Organic Lass patches him back up.  And various appearances
later on all leading to this.




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

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

                                     ADVENTURES #11


                         =====================
               The Saint Squad #2 -- PassionFishing: The Proposal
                         =====================





From: saint at ctron.com (The Saint)
Newsgroups: alt.comics.lnh
Subject: The Saint Squad #2 -- PassionFishing: The Proposal
Date: 28 Mar 1994 16:08:29 GMT

Insanity Comics Presents --

	T   H   E      S   A   I   N   T     S   Q   U   A   D   !

Issue #2 -- THE STRONGEST POWER THERE IS

Starring: Organic Lass, Pocket Man, and a mysterious, diminutive archer

 ------
| NOTE |  This scene takes place simultaneuously with the end of the
|      |  Valentine's Day Ball (A masterful story! Two thumbs Up!)
|      |
|______|

	The night was indeed cold, yet a dazzling array of stars filled
the coal-black sky. But there was only one heavenly body on Pocket Man's
mind ... and he was holding her tightly in his arms.

	"I can't remember when I've had a more wonderful evening, Pok,"
said Organic Lass, swaying smoothely to the music emanating from the
ballroom below them. "I feel so warm and safe, like nothing in the world
can go wrong."

	"Ssssshhhh! Ori! You know what happens whenever one of us says
that `nothing in the world can go wrong.'" Pocket Man said quietly, 
partially waiting for an alarm klaxxon. "Remember that *ugly* incident
when Ultimate Ninja said he felt "absolutely invulnerable" during his
Peril Room session?"

	"Eeeiiuuuu! Oh gross! I remember that!" Ori said, clutching 
herself tightly to her lover's chest. "It was so annoying hearing him
speak in falsetto all that time afterward. And all that gauze padding!
Hold me, darling. I feel so good when you hold me."

	Pocket Man's throat was as dry as the alum and porcelain
cheesecake Cheesecake Eater Lad had made for the ball. His breathing
was rapid and his head was spinning as he tried to utter his words.
Her perfume filled his senses and the warmth of her body made his
blood race.

	"Ori ... ummm ... I've been ... uhhh ... you know ... thinking,"
he stammered. Organic Lass' eyes widened. She knew from experience that
when Pocket Man stuttered, he was being romantic and emotional. She
felt something ... different ... in the air tonight -- something magical.

	"Yes, darling?" she said, nervously and knowingly.

	"We've ... umm ... we've been through a lot together, haven't we?
I mean, we've defeated would-be Looniverse conquerers, and criminal
masterminds, and even stopped a madman from altering the very fabric
of the cosmos itself. And that was just in December! We've always 
come back to each other and ... I ... ummm ..."

	"... and don't forget that motel," she said grinning broadly,
her head still nestled in his chest, her arms draped over his shoulders.
"I'm still getting calls from the circus about that."

	Pocket Man blushed. As deep and true as his love for her was,
he was still essentially shy and very much stunned by her beauty, and
the fact that she felt as strongly for him. She simply amazed him.

	"Yeah ... the motel," he said. "Well ... that's kind of what
I wanted to talk to you about."

	"Mmmmm, honey ... you want to go back there now ...?" she said,
her voice raising in a teasing, tempting lilt.

	"Yes ... no ... I mean ... that's not what I mean," he said,
beginning to become frustrated by his difficulty saying what was on his
mind. "I definitely want to go there again with you ... but this time ...
I thought maybe ... *GULP* ... we could make it ... [thump THUMP thump
THUMP] ... a ... ummm ... honeymoon?!?" Sweat beaded on his forehead
and he could swear the synthohol was getting to him.

	"POCKET MAN! Are you saying what I think you're saying?!?"
Organic Lass said, holding his chest tight but pulling back to look
him in the eye. He was panicking, unsure if she was happy or furious.
"Are you asking me to MARRY YOU?!?"

	"Ummm ... *GULP* ... well ... I guess ... umm ... yeah?"

	"I can't believe this!" HOW DARE YOU!?!?" she said, stepping
back from him and assuming a typical, hands-on-hips, woman-scorned
posture. He shuddered, never expecting this reaction from her.

	"How *DARE* you wait this long to propose to me?!?" she said,
a wry smile curling her luscious lips. "OF COURSE I'LL MARRY YOU!!!"

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

	She lept into his arms and kissed him fully, passionately, far more
passionately than the cretinous Acrophobe editors were comfortable
with. It was a kiss that lasted an eternity, at least four or five
Lee pages. And then their lips parted and they gazed into each other's
eyes lovingly."

	"You ... you will?" he said, stunned and thrilled. "You'll 
really marry me?"

	"You silly darling!" she said, smiling. "Don't you know that
when other writers start including our relationship in their stories,
that it MUST be something special? I've been waiting for you to ask
me this since that whole Tsar Chasm mess. I love you, Pok. I've
loved you since the day we met. My writer just wasn't around often
enough then to have picked up on how I felt. But yes. I will marry you!"

	"Oh, Ori! You don't know how happy you've made me! I love you
so much, it's hurt sometimes," Pocket Man blathered, his emotions
kicking into overdrive. "But I want to do this right! I want everyone
in the Looniverse to know about this. I want a wedding that makes that
Xavier shindig look like a Shakes the Clown party! We're getting 
married in style!"

	"Oh yes, Pok, YES!" she said, beaming at the prospect of the
glorious wedding she'd always wanted. "Who should we tell first?"

	"Well, ya don't hafta tell me," said a voice from the shadows,
startling them both. Stepping forward, Sarcastic Lad slowly emerged
into the light, staggering slightly. It was obvious that he'd been
partying with Frat Boy and Master Blaster. "I ... uhhh ... kinda 
already know."

	"Sarc! What are you doing up here? Where's Token Girl?" 
Ori said.

	"Aaaah, she's downstairs puttin' Frat Brat to shame at the
beer taps," he said, slurring slightly. "`Sides, I knew this was
where you two were gonna ... talk." he grinned a drunken grin.

	"But ... I hadn't told anyone about this," Pocket Man said
quizzically.

	"Pok ... buddy ... don'tcha think yer ol' pal Sarcashtic Lad
can read you like a book? I've been washin' you make sheeps eyes at
her fer more than a year now," Sarc explained. "And ... it don't hurt
none to have a buddy or two on the police force ta keep tabs on ya."

	"Cruller," Pocket Man said.

	"That cop from the Net.ropolis Police who gave you such a
hard time in PassionFishing?" Ori asked.

	"Yes. Detective Sgt. Lovell Cruller," Pok said. "That
blabbermouth!"

	"Aahhh! Go on, Pok." Sarc said, stumbling over his left
foot as he stepped forward. "The guy's a good joe. And he only hassles
people he really likes. He and me have had a few talks about you,
and you don't know it, but Cruller respects yer hero[HIC] ... hero[HIC]
... hero[HIC] ... superness. He thinks yer one a' the good guys."

	"He's the *BEST* guy," Organic Lass said, hugging her fiance
strongly. "But he isn't the best *MAN*." She winked at Pok, who
picked up her cue.

	"Yeah ... that's right. I'm afraid that job falls on you,
old friend." Pok said, reaching out and placing his hand on Sarc's
shoulder. His face turning serious, he said, "Would you be our 
Best Man, Sarc?"

	"BESHT MAN? Me?!? I'd be hon[HIC] ... hon[HIC] ... hon[HIC] ...
I'd be glad to." With that, Sarcastic Lad, grinning like a schoolboy,
passed out in a slumped heap in Pocket Man's arms. Pok carried his
friend to his quarters where he could sleep off his evening's intake.

	Standing outside Sarcastic Lad's door, Pocket Man turned to
Organic Lass, kissed her softly and said, "You know ... it's a very
rare occasion when everybody's gathered together in one place like 
they are tonight. What do you say we make the announcement tonight?"

	She thought for a moment, he tongue sliding to the corner
of her mouth the way he loved. After a moment, she grinned and said,
"Let's do it!"

------------------------------------------------------------------------

	The doors to the LNH Chamber burst open as trumpets blared an
introduction (courtesy of the component stereo and CD player Pok had
in his cuff pocket). Everyone turned, startled by the commotion.
Ultimate Ninja reached for the ninjabush in his sash. Master Blaster
grabbed his Big Gun (tm) and flared a huge hole in the ceiling as
he'd forgotten to put the safety on. Super_Apathy Lad yawned and
continued watching the weather channel. Domestic Lad stopped using the
mop and bucket at Frat Boy's table.

	"Can I have everyone's attention, please?" Pocket Man 
bellowed above Huey Lewis and the News, and the 26th time that "Power
of Love" had played that evening. Pliable Lad pulled himself together,
after his personal version of slam dancing had bowled most people
off the dancefloor. "Organic Lass and I have something to say."

	"They're leaving. I just know it," thought Ultimate Ninja.
"They're gonna quit the Legion."

	"Ssshh, everybody. Pok and Ori have something to say," said
Sister State-The-Obvious, grinning in hopes that it was the engagement
she'd wanted for them.

	Mutli-Tasking Man stopped serving punch, keying in the strobe
light sequences, and checking ID's at the bar. Old-Comics-Man sat
next to Elvis Man, commenting on the sequins on Elvis Man's costume
and how heroes in his day weren't so gaudy. Panta licked punch from
her fur. Deja Dude stood stewing over his argument with Julie Lee 
earlier in the evening, and questioned the wisdom of telling her she
was nothing more than a figment of his lonely imagination.

	"Ori and I have been talking ... a lot lately," Pok began.
"We realized how dangerous this life is and how fleeting happiness
can be for a Net.Hero ..."

	"Here it comes ..." muttered Ultimate Ninja, receiving a
sharp elbow in the ribs on both sides from Sing-Along Lass and
Token Girl.

	Organic Lass continued, "We know that at any moment, any one
of us could be killed, and only a few of us don't have to worry about
that. But then, when we saw how everyone came together for this
wonderful ball tonight ... [Master Blaster sniggered at her choice
of words and chuckled with Frat Boy] ... and we realized how much
love there really is here in the LNH."

	"And we want to continue that," Pocket Man said. "So if it's
not too much to ask, Ori and I were hoping that you all wouldn't mind
if we got together like this again very soon .... FOR A WEDDING!"

	A long pause followed as LNHer glared at LNHer. Jaws were agape.
Eyes were straining to focus. Legs were trying to remain vertical.
Then suddenly, a thunderous roar erupted from the ballroom as the
entire mutlitude of heroes began a resounding cheer and voluminous
laughter. Pocket Man's chest swelled. Organic Lass' eyes teared.

	They'd just shared their greatest joy with their closest
friends ... their family. It was a sign of good things to come.


To be con[HIC] ... con[HIC] ... con[HIC] ... resumed later.

 ========================================================================
|Gary St. Lawrence            |  POCKET MAN     | Breaking new ground in |
|saint at ctron.com              |  ELVIS MAN      | going where no LNHer   |
|aka SAINT                    |  SARCASTIC LAD  | has dared to go before |
|"Have Red Pen - Will - Edit" |    of the LNH!  | ... into MARRIAGE!     |
 ========================================================================

	... and everyone's welcome to write their own reaction scenes!

	COMING SOON (No ... really!) THE SAINT SQUAD #3!!
		"Out of Pocket Expenses!"

Newsgroups: alt.comics.lnh
From: uplink at cwis.unomaha.edu (John M. Scheibeler)
Subject: Re: The Saint Squad #2 -- PassionFishing: The Proposal
Date: Tue, 29 Mar 1994 07:04:24 GMT

Their own reactions, eh?  Okaybe...

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

	A cold grey night downtown where the shadows marched silent guard 
over Net.Ropolis.  A lone figure stood supporting a lamppost, reading the
scraps of the daily news.  Digging into his trenchcoat, he found nothing
but an empty pen and a quarter; enough for a cup of coffee.  Good enough.
	As he passed the moldy brownstone building, he walked underneath
a passage into a warmer world where two people sat talking.  "Dear," said
the woman to the man, "What do you think about these two superheroes getting
married?"
	"Good for them," he said, settling in for the night into his cushioned
throne.  "It's good to see two young people making plans for themselves,
getting married and all.  The young people," he continued, "the young people
need more role models like those who do such."
	She drank liquid relaxment from an ancient cup and sighed, turning
in the wreath of fragrant tobacco smoke from his pipe.  "Yes," she said after
a millenia had passed.  "It IS a good thing.  It will lighten up this drab,
unspoken town.  But there is only one thing I need to know, my dearest?"
	He frowned, and paged through last night's physical entertainment.
"And what," he breathed, "would that be, my pigeon?"
	She turned back to the window overlooking the asphalt river outside.
"What will Gamer Boy think of it?"

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

	The night is a stranger, nay, an enemy unto itself.  Strange things
lurk in unseen shadows waiting for the unwary and the foolish.  Neither of
which is the man in the tan overcoat, as he strolls down the street, his
gait and his mind filled with purpose.  The rats sense his coming; he is
a cat, a predator, but he is not on the hunt for them tonight.
	Outside the small arcade, a man has just introduced himself forcefully
to the street, and found that the street has accepted his gift of liquid
brotherhood.  As he forces himself away from his newfound brother, his
hand flashes with Death, and another man finds that life is all too brief.
The first man gives of the second man to the brother he once knew, pausing
only pauses to strip the meat of that which is no longer needs and the
street cares nothing about.
	Grinning, he walks down the street, whistling an ancient melody from
a long forgotten childhood.  In this world of mice and men, he is a feral
beast, a survivor.  But there are those who rise above him, and he stops to
pay them tribute.  
	They ask no favor tonight but for converse, about a man he may have 
seen, in a place he may have been, at a time he may have been there.  He 
recalls he might have been there, and he may have seen someone, but is it 
any business of theirs?
	Of course, it is, and he soon discovers the right way to spend an
evening in the lap of mobile luxury.  When one plays with the animals,
one must remember to bow when the lion roars.
	As he passes the arcade, with its front of human debris, he shudders,
a chill entering his mind to pass a few lonely minutes.  As he sips his
bubbly refreshment, a thought passes through his mind.
	Where would Gamer Boy be tonight?

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

	The night grows long, a giant casting its shadow upon the world.
The man has found his prize, and holds it high for all to see.  Then, the
liquid vanishes down his throat, consumed forever.
	Upon the top of the city, the shadows hold court, and only those
unfortunate to be trapped on the upside of the world may attend.  The
darkness is crowned king, and the moon is proclaimed regent.  The stars
sit as quiet courtiers, and the clouds as the sergeants-at-arms.
	A man races from the forces pursuing him, unknowing that they
have felt the need to call upon other friends at this time.  He runs
with no purpose, the worst way to do so.  As he leaps from rooftop
to rooftop, he forgets to pay homage to the king of the night, so the
king orders that he be reprimanded.
	A hairy paw grabs at the human, and he finds himself dragged into
the court, in full view for the royalty to see.  He cowers from their
majesty, and turns to perceive his captor.  
	He is a mighty man, one who has chosen to pay tribute to the king,
and thus become traitor to the world below.  He is a mighty man, and he
has been named Prince of the land.  He is a mighty man, and with one swipe
of his Law, he strikes down the foolish jester who thought he could get
away with mocking the king.
	The court laughs, and he laughs with them.  In the underworld, men
quake at this noise; they know it is the voice of their creator.
He laughs long and hard, and the king is delighted at his adopted son's 
joy.  He allows his son to feed, with the Night, upon the jester's courage,
upon his hopes, upon his folly.
	Bloody the Prince raises his head to announce his arrogance, his
valor.  He has won a small triumph tonight, one which puts him closer to
the Power which he needs.  And with every little step, he howls his victory
song.
	"WHO IS GAMER BOY?!?!?!?!"

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

	Well, that's my little story.  As might be noticed, I'm introducing
a new character to the Looniverse.  Three guesses who, and the first two
don't count.

uplink
--
END OF LINE.  -- uplink at unomaha.edu  | "We are Homer of Borg.  Prepare to 
"We Are GURPS.  Resistance is Futile.|  be assimi -- ooo, donuts."
You will be Assimilated into a       | "We are Bart of Borg.  Assimilate
Worldbook." - The people at SJ Games |  my shorts, man."


Newsgroups: alt.comics.lnh
From: uplink at cwis.unomaha.edu (John M. Scheibeler)
Subject: Re: The Saint Squad #2 -- PassionFishing: The Proposal
Date: Tue, 29 Mar 1994 07:37:27 GMT

Oops.  Forgot about this one.

	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	*	

	"Package for ya, Ori!"  Frat Boy had just gotten done with his
day's chores (hey, even a college man needs to wash his clothes occasionally)
and had stopped to deliver a package given to him by the hero Speedy Delivery
Boy.  He waited at Organic Lass's door patiently.
	"Oh, uh, bring it on in!" came the reply from the other side of the
door.  Frat Boy shrugged, and opened the door, walking into Organic Lass's
room carrying the large box.  "My!" She wondered.  "I'm sensing various 
carbon structures within.  Plant life, most probably.  This will be the first
batch of flowers we've received!"
	"Wonder who sent it," mused Frat Boy.  "Can, uh, can I put this down
somewhere?"
	"Oh, over on the table's fine."  Organic Lass pointed to a table
bedecked with Pocket Man's gadgets, but there seemed to be room for the large
box.  Frat Boy put the package gingerly down just as Pocket Man walked in.
	"Hi, Pok!" said Frat Boy.  "You guys got a gift!"
	"So I see," said Pocket Man, barely rescuing a few items from the 
table where they were about to fall off of.  "Are you going to open it?"
	"Oh, uh, sure."  Frat Boy pulled out a pocketknife, the one Pocket
Man had given him, and sliced open the package roughly.  It split open
to reveal...
	"Oh, Pok..."  Organic Lass suddenly had tears in her eyes.
	Pocket Man wordlessly held his fiancee.  "Yes, honey... they're
beautiful."
	Even the normally glib Frat Boy was at a loss for words.
	Sitting in the middle of the table was an absolutely gorgeous
arrangement of flowers; roses, daffodils, tulips, morning glories, shades
and varieties unknown to even jaded flower arrangers such as Zen Flower
Arrangement Man.  It would have brought tears to any normal mortal's eyes.
It was Perfection in a floral design.  Mother Nature had finally achieved
Nirvana with flowers.
	"Hey, there's a card with it!" pointed out Frat Boy.  He picked up the
card from the edge of the flower pot, which freed a small part of the
plant to view, and made it even more beautiful.  He handed the card to
Pocket Man, but he was busy gazing at the floral masterpiece.
	"Huh."  Of course, Frat Boy could call on the powers of the ancient
Frat to ignore the arrangement.  He opened the card.
	"It's so... so...  It's as if someone decreed this to be the most
perfect floral design," mused Pocket Man, still in awe.
	And then Frat Boy read on the card:



		Of course I did.

				OL


--
END OF LINE.  -- uplink at unomaha.edu  | "We are Homer of Borg.  Prepare to 
"We Are GURPS.  Resistance is Futile.|  be assimi -- ooo, donuts."
You will be Assimilated into a       | "We are Bart of Borg.  Assimilate
Worldbook." - The people at SJ Games |  my shorts, man."


		The LNH Valentine's Day Ball: The Announcement


--------------------A PANTA Special issue...--------------------------------

[ This occurs directly after Saint Squad #2 and the LNH Valentine Ball
  Special. Both really GREAT issues. Here's yet another reaction.  HGB]

>	"And we want to continue that," Pocket Man said. "So if it's
>not too much to ask, Ori and I were hoping that you all wouldn't mind
>if we got together like this again very soon .... FOR A WEDDING!"
>
>	A long pause followed as LNHer glared at LNHer. Jaws were agape.
>Eyes were straining to focus. Legs were trying to remain vertical.
>Then suddenly, a thunderous roar erupted from the ballroom as the
>entire mutlitude of heroes began a resounding cheer and voluminous
>laughter. Pocket Man's chest swelled. Organic Lass' eyes teared.

Relieved that he and his quick-bopping date were not longer the center of
attention, Kid G nudged his dancing partner in the ribs. "Hey, Panta, what'd
ya know.  He's really going to do it! I would'na have guessed it in a million
years... Panta? What's wrong, Panta?"

He turned to look into the little leopard girl's face. She stood as if stunned;
a blank, lifeless expression on her face.  Her nose, bright pink from their
energic dancing, had gone white. As he looked, her mouth slowly closed.

Tears began to well up from underneath furry white eyelids. Her chin quivered -
she looked like she was trying hard not to cry.

"Panta?"

With a soundless cry, she spun away from Kid G and disappeared out of the LNH
Ballroom. Kid G was left there, his arms partially outstretched. Around him,
LNH'ers were applauding Pocket Man and Organic Lass's announcement.

"Ah jus saw yar gurl a'runnin' off. Looks-ah lak she's inna Heartbreak Hotel'a
world'a'hurt..." Elvis Man remarked as he walked by.

"In my day," Old Comics Man muttered, "girls didn't have things like a heart.
They just stayed home and cooked and cleaned. Except for Wonder Woman. And she
was an Amazon and all and wasn't really a girl." He reached for another glass
of punch. "And furthermore, heroes didn't go for this new-fangled punch and
all.  No siree, they drank water... and liked it too. And..."

		*                  *                        *

Kid G followed the sounds of someone's gentle weeping to the hallway outside
the LNH Conference Room on the 5th floor. (The Jack Kirby Memorial Room). The
lights were out. The lights of Net.ropolis cast long shadows across the carpet.

The weeping came from one of the deep window seats along the outside wall. Kid
G waited a moment to make sure and turned on the lights.

The hallway had been completely destroyed. Long clawmarks ripped across the
walls. The carpet had been shredded into long strips. One of the wall lights
sparked for a second before shorting out. Kid G stared. "Captain Cleanup
is going to have a fit!" he thought to himself. There were even clawmarks
across the ceiling, way over his head. Panta was huddled in the window
seat, her orange-furred shoulders shaking gently with her crying. One bare
leg was stretched to the floor; she had wrapped her arms around her other
folded knee.

Mixed in with the strips of carpeting and wallpaper were fragments of a 
glittery black fabric. Kid G raised his eyebrows and stopped. What should
he do? Would Panta attack him? 

"Panta?" he said softly. He studied her form carefully, ready to dodge an
incoming attack.

Panta raised her head. "Go [HIC] away!" she said.

"What's wrong? You can tell me."

"Not [HIC] thing. Just that..." Panta's voice disappeared in a series of
hiccups and tearing sighs.

Kid G straightened up. If Panta had wanted him torn up, she would have attacked
him by now. He took a few careful steps toward the leopard-girl.

Dully, Panta watched him approach. She wiped her eyes with tear-streaked
hands.

As Kid G stepped in front of the window seat, he suddenly became aware that
Panta had shredded the party dress that New Look Lass had so beautifully
created. Only fragments of the short puffy dress and black lamee still
hung around her hips and breasts.

"Let me make you more comfortable." Kid G said slowly while unbuttoning his
tuxedo jacket. Panta didn't react as he draped the jacket over her shoulders. 
As he sat down across from her, Kid G blessed the lucky stars that had taken
Self-Righteous Preacher to Net.xico after Slobbering Grue!

"It's Pocket Man, right? And Organic Lass?" he said after a moment.

"Hate [Hic] her." Panta said. 

"Why?" Kid G started. Maybe if she talked it out, she would feel better.
Besides, he didn't want to upset anyone who would destroy a room while wearing
a party dress.

"Took my boyfriend." Her voice hardened a bit.

"But you knew that Pocket Man had thing for Organic Lass when you first met
him, right? I mean, he has all those pictures around his room and all..."

"Pocket Man didn't want me because I'm not really human."

"Huh?" Panta's logic was more twisted than Pliable Lad's dancing.

"Look at me!" Panta insisted. She sat up and placing her paws on Kid G's
shoulders, pulled Kid G closer to her. "I'm a cat masquerading as a human!"

Kid G stared into her widely spaced eyes with their slit pupils. He pulled
back a little and noted her nose with its pink nosepad, fine white fur shading
into the tawny yellow fur around her eyes. "I... I... I don't it matters..."
he stammered.

"Huh?" Panta's mouth was a little 'o' that failed to hide her fangs or the
tiny incisors that ran across the bottom of her mouth.

"Panta." Kid G said more firmly. "It doesn't matter if you're a cat or human.
It's not what you look like. It's what you are. It's what you do." Then,
struck by a sudden impulse, he reached forward and lightly kissed Panta
on the lips. "That's for being you." 

Panta stiffened. Kid G winced inwardly as her claws extended, pricking his
shoulders. Then she relaxed. "Really?" she almost purred. Kid G quickly
kissed her again. "And that's for being a hell of a dancer."

Panta sighed and pushed him away again. A moment passed and then she smiled
a little smile. "I guess I am."

"You know you are." Kid G looked away for a moment. When he glanced back
at Panta, she was deep in thought. Her tail flicked back and forth in slow
sweeps. He sat back and stared over the lights of Net.ropolis.

"Pretty, isn't it?" Panta suddenly said. Her tail flicked suddenly and then
was still.

"It is." Kid G answered, still looking over the city. "Still unhappy about
Pocket Man?"

"A little. I thought when he gave me all those clothes and that towel and those
school books, he was in love with me. Fooled myself, didn't I?" Panta's voice
was sad, but not defeated.

"Oh, you cats," Kid G smiled. "You'll love anyone that gives you something to
eat."

Panta startled Kid G by laughing out loud. After her laughter died away in
a coughing fit, she raised a paw with her claws extended. "And what did
you mean by that?" she asked with a smile that showed her fangs a little.

"It's a joke, it's a joke," Kid G quickly answered, raising his hands to
ward off her attack. He nudged a fragment of black lame cloth. "Panta,
what happened here?"

"New Look Lass wasn't thinking of my Berserker Rage(tm) when she designed
that dress. It just shredded during my... outburst..."

"Hell of an outburst," Kid G said.

"I had to let it out somehow... My frustration. My anger."

"Kinda tough on the room though. Why didn't you use the Peril Room?" Kid G
got up and offered Panta a hand.

"The Peril Room?" Panta paused. "I completely forgot about the Peril Room."

"Oh..." Kid G looked around the ruined room. "And what are you going to tell
Captain Cleanup in the morning?"

"Oh...." Panta's nose wrinkled. "Suppose we don't say anything. Please?"

"I'll think about it. How about some coffee? You look like you could use it."

"With extra cream? I like it with cream." Panta hopped to her feet. "Cats
like cream."
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Thanks to Ken Schmidt for Kid G and his advice and comments...
--
Hubert Bartels          INTERNET: hgb at catalina.opt-sci.arizona.edu
Optical Sciences Center (602)-621-2032            FAX: (602)-621-4416
University of Arizona   "It's not just a mistake; it's an adventure!
Tucson, AZ, USA 85721   Babs Bunny, -A Ditch in Time- Tiny Toons Adventures


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Next Week:  Giant Sized LNH #6: The Ties That Bond!
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Arthur "Same Classic Channel.  But Same Time?  Probably not." Spitzer






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