LNH: Classic LNH Adventures #37: Culinary Disasters Part Three

Arthur Spitzer arspitzer2 at gmail.com
Sat May 13 13:36:23 PDT 2017


In this weeks reposting of stuff you can find in the eyrie archive
https://archives.eyrie.org/racc/lnh/
we have LNH Comics Presents #31-32

And in this part Jessica "Jaelle" Ihimaera-Smiler concludes her 
Bad-Timing Boy Adventure and the Culinary Disasters Crossover.

Joining her in the backups (and frontups) we have Hubert Bartels
(writer of Tales of the LNH featuring the catgirl Panta).

Ian Porell creator of the Kid Kiwi series.

Campbell March creator of the Guitar Man series.

Joltin' Jeff McCoskey creator of LNH Triple Play.

Jennifer "Mistlock" Whitson creator of the Misfits series.

And finally Steve Hutchison creator of the Invisible Incendiary
character.


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

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

                                     ADVENTURES #37


                         =====================
                      Culinary Disasters Part Three
                         =====================



From: ihimaera_j at ix.wcc.govt.nz
Newsgroups: rec.arts.comics.creative
Subject: LNH: LNH Comics Presents #31
Date: 13 Jul 1995 07:05:28 GMT


LNH Comics Presents: It's All In The Timing Part Six
The Continuing (but soon to be over) MisAdventures of Bad-Timing Boy
Co-starring Cheesecake Eater Lad

"You try to show off on the firm computer
 to impress the new girl at your work.
 You wipe the last six months accounts,
 and confirm her suspicions that you are a jerk.
 Ooooh, bad luck."
- "Bad Luck", Funny Business.

*-*

To recap: Brad (Bad-Timing Boy) and Synchronicity (Good-Timing Girl) are
trying to decide if it is worth attempting to get their powers back.
While they are discussing it, Cheesecake Eater Lad is knocked out,
kidnapped, and tied to a Whirling Machine'O'Death. Some people have all
the luck. :-)

*-*

No nearer to any decision on their possible futures with or without
powers Brad and Synchronicity headed back to where they left Cheesecake
Eater Lad. Discovering him not there (as per the recap above) they search
the area and discover a club which has bits of cheesecake stuck to it.
        "Someone must have kidnapped him." said Brad.
        "You don't sound particularly worried." said Synchronicity.
        "I'm not, this sort of thing happens to us on a fairly regular
basis, it's covered in our insurance policies. Now if this your average
type of kidnapping, then there should be a clue around here to lead us to
the HQ of the bad guys."
        "And if it isn't?"
        "Then we're probably about to be attacked."
        On cue, several large men ambushed them.
        The two former heros fought them off for about 10 seconds before
being overwhelmed again. Fighting back to back they managed to continue
holding off the men, but it wouldn't be too long before they were captured.
        "Run away!" yelled Brad.
        "Buy them off!" yelled Synchronicity.
        "Capitalist!"
        "No, shopaholic."
        "I should introduce you to Writers Block Woman," muttered Brad,
"Now let's get out of here!"
        "If you insist."
        With a flash of yellow light, Brad and Synchronicity were on top
of the building.
        "Huh?" said Brad coherently.
        "Teleportation powers remember?" reminded Synchronicity, peering
over the building's edge. "Now we can follow them and find out where they
took Cheesecake Eater Lad."
        "Have you done this before?"

***

Synchronicity and Brad watched as the goons (Ahoy Neddie!) entered a
building. Sneaking in after them, they hid behind a table as the men
reported their failure to another man, who then reported it into an intercom.
        "Do you think we should attack?" asked Synchronicity.
        "Well, let me think," said Brad, "There's the two of us, against
a room full of bad guys, we don't have any powers (except for your
teleporting) and we're not very good unarmed fighters, on the plus side,
they won't be expecting it."
        "A simple no would have sufficed."
        The duo snuck out.
        "We need reinforcements." said Synchronicity.
        "Yeah. Tell you what, if we teleport back to LNHHQ, we can pick
up some of the others, Kid Kirby, Ultimate Ninja, the rest of Generation
Y maybe." said Brad.
        "We don't have that much time, and I know where we can get
reinforcements right here."
        "You do?"
        "Sure. We'll go to my place and get my sisters."
        "You have sisters?"
        "Uh huh, Sensibility and Sensitivity, AKA Practical Girl and
Emotive Lass. And there's always Frank."
        "You know, it doesn't make sense to me that he's called Frank and
you guys have got those long names."
        "Well, he's actually named Sincerity, so we called him Earnest,
but he said he was more frank than earnest and so..."
        "Synchronicity."
        "Yes?"
        "I don't wish to know that."
        "You don't have to call me by my full name all the time either,"
said Synchronicity.
        "Why? What do your siblings call you? Ethel?" asked Brad
sarcastically.
        "Oh no, we just contract it, call me Syncity."
        "Syncity who." asked Brad, who had a sneaking suspicion that the
name jokes were not yet over.
        "Syncity Millar. Brad, why are you banging your head against the
ground like that?"
        "Sigh. Let's just go and get your sisters."
        Another flash of yellow light, and the duo were gone.
***

Later...

        Brad looked over the team. Syncity had changed into a new outfit
and looked ready to kill. Brad knew this because the last time she had
looked like this she'd tried to kill _him_. Next to her were her two
sisters. Sensitivity, who was calling herself Emotive Lass, had long
blonde hair and big blue eyes and wore a purple outfit with a plunging
neckline. Sensibility, AKA Practical Girl, had brown hair and eyes, and was
wearing body armour and a belt full of tools. The girls had provided him
with a flak jacket to wear over his costume and a spear for a weapon.
        "Are we ready?" asked Practical Girl.
        "I'm feeling in tune with your readiness. But I sense danger."
said Emotive Lass.
        "Let's do it." announced Syncity. And before Brad could add his
line to the characterisations she teleported them inside.
        Arriving in the building, the heros found themselves surrounded.
They lost the fight and were captured.
        (WHOA! Hold on there!)
        What?
        (What happened to the fight scene?)
        Fight scene?
        (You know, the one where the heros fight valiantly against
overwhelming odds but were dragged down by the sheer number of their
adversaries.)
        But we did that.
        ("They lost the fight and were captured?" You call that a fight
scene?)
        Oh sorry, did you want more?
        (Yes!)
        Oh okay. Teleporting into the ring of thugs the heros were taken
briefly by surprise. "Hellfire!" yelled Brad...
        (No, no, no. It's bloody pointless having one _now_ isn't it,
when you've already told everyone who's going to win and how it's going
to turn out.)
        But you said...
        (Oh for pete's sake just get on with the story and leave the
narrators arguing with each other to Chris Gumprich).
        *sulks* Very well then...
        "Finished?" asked Brad.
        Yup. (Yes).
        Ahem, whilst the two narrators had been arguing, the villains had
taken Brad, Syncity, Emotive Lass and Practical Girl and had tied them to
the Whirling Machine'O'Death, where Cheesecake Eater Lad was also tied.
        "Hey CELad, you okay?" asked Brad.
        "Yup, except for the fact that I've been hit on the head,
kidnapped, and tied up to a death machine."
        "I sense your pain." Emotive Lass assured him.
        Cheesecake Eater Lad stared at her, then looked at Brad, "Do I
want to know?"
        "Nope."
        "Hello my little heros, I hope you are all... comfortable." a
shadowy figure loomed out of the mysteries. (What?) Shhhh. "And now I
believe it is time for my exposition..."

to be continued...

Next Issue: The exposition - the reason for this whole thing. Will Brad
and Syncity get their powers back? Will the author get over this thing
for names starting with s and ending with ity? A climatic fight scene
will take place and also be described. Don't miss it!

Credits:
Bad-Timing Boy and Cheesecake Eater Lad are Public Domain.
Everybody else belongs to themselves.

***

Culinary Disasters Three
By Hubert Bartells

"What's for dinner?" Panta asked, stopping at the crowd outside the cafeteria
door.

Mainstream Man leered at Panta's attire. She was wearing a bikini bottom and
a Digital Pink T-shirt, shortened to reveal Panta's furry white midriff. Her
feet were bare; a cat bell hung from her neck. They were the only things that
Panta could find to wear. The effect was almost indecent while not revealing
anything naughty.

The effect short-circuited his brain and left him speechless. He stared as
Panta turned to his companion, Sardonic Boy. "Dinner?" she asked again.

"Sure, Panta," the master of the snide remark answered quickly. "Pick you
up at 7ish?"

Panta blinked. "Err..."

The cafeteria door swung open. List Lad leaned out with a clipboard in hand.
"Sarcastic Lad?" he yelled out to the crowd.

"He ain't here." someone replied.

"Bandwagon Boy?"

"Ain't been seen around for a while."

"Super Apathy Lad - no, scratch him. Triva King?"

"Out of state, be back on Thursday."

"Panta?"

Panta blinked again. She twisted around, looking for someone to tell her what
was going on. But the crowd surged forward, pushing her in front of List Lad.

"Ah, good. There you are," List Lad said, marking a name on his clipboard.
"It's
your turn for kitchen duty."

"B-B-But-t-t," the leopard girl began.

List Lad grabbed Panta by a cat ear and dragged her inside.

"Ow," Panta said as the master of the list let her ear go.

"Listen, Panta - with CheeseCake Eater Lad gone, it's up to the LNH people to
volunteer to cook for the rest of us. Everyone is on the list - and it's your
turn now. If you need help or advice, ask someone.

Panta rubbed her ear. "OK," she finally nodded.

The door swung shut behind List Lad, leaving the little leopard girl alone
in the kitchen. Acres of brightly polished stainless steel faced her in
every direction. Hundreds of huge stainless steel pots stood on shelves,
waiting to be used. The back wall had dozens of huge ovens ready. And a
roll-up factory door was on her right, marked 'Pantry'.

Panta sighed and she turned on the kitchen computer, searching for an easy
recipe.

"Take 20,000 potatoes..." one recipe began. They had all been scaled up to
serve the large number of people that lived and worked in the LNH Headquarters.
Panta thought about peeling 20,000 potatoes and flicked to the next recipe.

Finally finding something that would be foolproof and easy, Panta turned to the
pantry.

The door cranked up slowly, revealing a warehouse of foodstuffs packed in
bulk. Beets in 1,000 kilo cages. 10,000 cans of tomato soup per crate. All
in sizes much too large for Panta to move.

It was with a sight of relief than Panta spotted the Power Suit in the corner.
An advanced version of the Power Loader used by Ripley in 'Aliens', it would
allow her to move and shift the crates and boxes in the pantry.

Panta smiled. She climbed into the seat, pulled her tail aside, adjusted her
skimpy T-shirt and fingered the power-up switch. Her feet on the walk pedals,
her hands in the arm controls, the power suit's diesel engine thundered to
life.

Wheeee! Thump. Wheee. Thump. Wheeeee-thud. The power suit was fun to drive.
Panta easily lifted four crates of cauliflower aside to reach for a crate
of flaked mashed potatoes.

                *                     *                       *

>From the cage of the Power Suit, Panta looked around the kitchen. 40,000
gallons of water was boiling nicely, ready to have the potatoes flakes
added. The drums of peeled apples and onions had been poured onto a
frying surface, along with dozen hogheads of cooking oil. They needed
to be stirred from time to time to keep from burning; the Power Suit
used a 3 meter spatula for the stirring.

Wheeee-chunk. Panta turned to the meat cooker. The meat locker was almost
empty - but luckily, there was one item in abundance - the item that Panta
needed for her recipe. It was a lot of work to peel the meat from the
wax paper and place them on the hot cooker - but now, they were cooking
nicely, browning at the edges. It had taken 3000 gallons of cooking fat
to prepare the surface but the Power Suit's sprayer made it go quickly.

"Heh-heh-heh"

Panta turned to see who had come into the kitchen. Wheeee-thump.

Manga Man stood between the empty pastry tables and the rows of dishwashers.
He wore a Power Armor equipped with shoulder mounted Akiyama missiles,
forearm-mounted Gatling guns and hip mounted lasers. His head unit was
open so that he could talk.  "I heard you were back," he sneered, "heard
that you could change into Pretty Sailor Senshi Panta. Heard that you have
the OverCute Gem."

Panta tried to put one hand in front of her mouth in horror. The action
raised the Power Suit's massive arm.

"I want it," Manga Man said, closing the head unit. The Gatling guns
whined as he spun them up. From the lasers, twin red aiming beams shot out.

Panta gasped. She only had an unarmed Power Suit in a kitchen. The Overcute
Gem was with her Sailor suit, upstairs. She would not be able to change.

"Korosu!" Manga Man shouted. "Shi-ne!"

"Whirrrrrr!" His Power Armor stitched 20mm armor piecing bullets across the
wall of ovens.

Panta whirled her Power Suit around as the bullets barely missed her. Almost
as an accident, she pressed the cooking oil button. A pump whirled into action,
pulling hot corn oil from the LNH's tanks and spraying it at high pressure
through the Power Suit's left hand.

At 200 degrees C, the hot oil sprayed across the Power Armor. Manga Man's
cooling coils began to glow and smoke. The Gatling guns slowed and stopped
as the oil fouled the rotating barrels.

"Kuso," Manga Man swore. He took a few running steps to put the leopard girl's
Power Suit in the crosshairs of his Akiyama missile launchers.

His third step brought the helpless leopard girl within range - his fourth
step brought him disaster. The Power Armor's feet slipped from underneath
him. The suit's gyros, already heating up, failed to restore the suit's
balance; he tottered and fell over, face forward.

The suit kept sliding in the puddle of cooking oil. It hit the back wall,
smoking. Then Manga Man accidently triggered the missiles.

Panta turned away as the back of the kitchen erupted into flame. Bits and
pieces of Power Armor flew everywhere. Then the firesprinklers came on;
Manga Man and his ruined suit disappeared behind a wall of pinkish foam.
Somehow, in the mess and confusion, Manga Man made his escape.

Panta sighed. Luckily, she still had time to turn the apples and onions
before they burned. She didn't think that any of the food was damaged.


                *                     *                       *

"What's this?" California Kid asked. He stood in the cafeteria line as
Panta dished out her cooking.

"Liver and apples and onions on a bed of mashed potatoes. With gravy! Yum!"
Panta smiled.

"Ugh!" California Kid shuddered. He hated liver.

"Next!" Panta said, ignoring the surfer dude.

Cannon Fodder looked sadly at the thick slice of perfectly browned, juicy
liver. He didn't like liver either.

"Next!"

"And how much did you cook?" Ultimate Ninja said as Panta spooned gravy
over the liver and apples and onions and mashed potatoes.

"Silly me," Panta giggled, "when I ran the program to compute the recipe's
yield, I mistyped the number of people. I've got enough liver and onions
to feed 20,000 people. So, please feel free to come back for seconds. And
thirds..."

Panta is copyright Hubert. God knows about the rest of ya.

***

Culinary Disasters Four
By Ian Porell

     >>So this is it,<< Tad thought.  >>I'm Kid Kiwi, a full-fledged
probationary LNHer.  I belong to an ancient tradition of heroism, protecting
the weak from the Evil and so on.  And these,<< he thought, tapping the
envelope Errand Boy had dropped off, >>are my first orders.  What could it
be?  Is Acton Lord on the loose again?  Another Robot Invasion?  Perhaps a
threatened continent at the very least?<<

     Tad's hands shook as he tore open the envelope.  It read like this.

Dear LNHer,

     I would like to welcome you to the League of Net.Heroes.  I hope you
will find your stay with us educational and rewarding.  We do require certain
services of you in return for the kitchenette and suite we have provided you
with.  You will be expected to perform missions for the betterment of
humankind and the salvation of earth.

     Your first important mission is Kitchen Patrol.  You will cook for us.
 Let me remind you that you will like cooking for us, and you will cook well.
 Thankyou for your cooperation.

                                                               Ultimate Ninja

     >>Kitchen Patrol?  All I get to do is cook?  I can do chores at home!<<
 Tad's face took on a disappointed visage.  He sighed.  Slowly, the
disappointment turned to horror.

     Tad bolted out the door, charging down the hallway.  As he ran, he sent
a thought to Phil.  >>Phil!!!  Get the 12th squadron and meet me in front of
Ultimate Ninja's office, pronto!<<

     >>What?  What's going...<<  Began Phil's reply, clouded by sleep.

     >>They've assigned Jynx KP duty!<<

     >>THEY'VE WHAT?!!?!<<  Phil's thought was electrified by panic and the
kiwi leapt to raise his comrades.  Tad continued to barrel headlong down the
corridor, knocking a big fuzzy spot and an LNHer he thought he recognized as
Time-Waster Lad from his path.  He tripped over some orange cones near Super
Apathy Lad's room, but SAL must not have been home, because he scrambled to
his feet and ran off again.

     Tad skidded around the corner just in time to see Jynx deposit Ultimate
Ninja's secretary on the desk.  "Jynx!  Chill out!  It's OK!"

     The young woman turned to face him.  "They want me to COOK!"

     "Yeah, but..."

     Jynx looked like she was about to go into one of her feminist spiels
when the air duct above her opened and she was buried beneath a dozen fuzzy
green birds.  >>Good timing, Phil.<< Kid Kiwi sent.

     >>I try.<<  Phil sent, disentangling himself from the group.

                               *                         *
                        *                         *

A couple hours of strained discussion later...

     Jynx sat staring unhappily at a cereal box.  "What the hell is this?!
 There's no friggin' directions!"

     Kid Kiwi glanced up from the stove.  "I tell ya what, Jynx.  You can go
out in the cafeteria and bring people their food.  I'll cook.  OK?"

     "Hah!  Good luck, kid.  Stinkin' cereal doesn't have any directions."
 Jynx grabbed a notepad and stalked out, filled with disgust at the makers of
Cheeriests.

                               *                         *
                        *                         *

     Jynx strode out into the cafeteria.  There were, unsurprisingly, a bunch
of heroes at the tables.  "Alright, listen up!  I'm gonna take orders from
anybody who hasn't ordered yet!  You can have sardines, anchovies, raw
spinach, escargot, cauliflour, liver, spam, asparagus, sprouts, eggplant, and
prune juice.  Whaddya want?"

                               *                         *
                        *                         *

     "Okay," Kid Kiwi began to Phil and the 13th, perched on the spice
shelves over the stove.  "Ultimate Ninja wanted... eew.  Octopus."  Selecting
a jar marked "Octopus", Kid Kiwi wrinkled up his nose and unscrewed it.
 Something limp slopped out into a pan on the stove, and Kid Kiwi lit the
burner.  He turned back to the list of orders as the octopus simmered gently.

     "Cappuchino?  Isn't that an Order of Monks?  That's sick!  I'll just use
monkfish instead."  A moment later a slab of celibate seafood occupied the
burner next to the octopus.  "Hmm... it's supposed to be a drink.  No
problem..."  With a plop, it was moved from the burner to the blender.  The
blades whined

      Phil casually leaned against a pepper grinder on his shelf.  As Kid
Kiwi turned away, the pepper grinder fell silently and joined the fish in the
blender.  With a sharp crack, the grinder was sheared to splinters, and
pepper and splinters mixed with fish brew.  Coincidently, the mixture was
brown, with a light, pepper induced foam on the top.  (Remarkably like real
cappuchino.  I'm serious.  Try this mixture at home... It really does look
like that.  Here's the recipe)
          1 lb. Monkfish fillet, boneless.
          1 wooden pepper grinder (brown porcelin will do in a pinch)
          3 cups pepper
     Frappe until liquid, and serve over ice.  Preferably not to someone who
matters.

     Phil, startled, backpedaled into the curry powder.  The container was
upended, and three or four tablespoons poured onto the Octopus, giving it
that healthy orange look we love so much.  >>Oops<< was Phil's reaction.

     >>What happened?<<  Asked Tad, busy at the sink.

     >>Nothing.<<

                               *                         *
                        *                         *

     Tad glanced up, surrounded by food and smoke as Jynx walked back in.
 She could hear kiwis coughing in somewhere in the room.  "So what do they
want?" Tad asked.

     "I guess they weren't very hungry."  Jynx grinned.  "Most everybody
left, but Ultimate Ninja just got here.  Is the octopus and cappuchino
ready?"

     "Sure, one minute.  How's this look, Phil?"

     >>Needs grubs<<

     From out in the cafeteria, a voice called. "Waitress!"

     Jynx stuck her head out the door and screamed "WHAT DID YOU CALL ME?!?!
 THE TERM IS WAITRON, BUD!"

     "Yeah, whatever, babe.  I want a hamburger.  You think yer pathetic
excuse for a half-lame, bird-loving, acne-growing, bewhiskered newbie can
manage that?"  Innovative Offence Boy asked.

     Jynx turned to Tad.  "I'll be right back."

     It's OK, I'm not bothered." Tad offered, but Jynx was already gone.

     A few minutes and unpleasant sounds later, she returned.  "You call
Mouse 'babe' and she get's offended.  You call me 'babe' and yer a pretzel."
 Tad peeked out into the cafeteria.  Innovative Offence Boy was mounted on
the salad bar with an apple in his mouth, his wrists tied around his ankles.

     "Ouch.  Jeez, Jynx, lighten up.  They're gonna kick you out."  Jynx
looked away unhappily.

                               *                         *
                        *                         *

     "So what's wrong with him, Doc Stomper?"

     "Nothing, Kid Kiwi.  He's meditating, trying to control his anger.
 You're lucky he only ate a single bite of the octopus.  As for the
cappuchino, I'm not sure.  I sent it to the chem labs to find out what was in
it."

     "Don't worry!  I didn't put any monks in it!  I swear!  I wouldn't do
that!  I just used a fish and I'm really sorry and I'll never do it again
and..."

     "Monks?"

                               *                         *
                        *                         *

     >>I don't think Ultimate Ninja is happy with us.  Our next mission will
probably be something like, 'engage Satan in personal combat and report back
to me.'<<

     >>We could take him.<<

     >>You think so huh?<<

     >>Sure.  Who's Satan?<<

     >>Uh-oh.  Here comes Captain Cleanup.  More plates?  Nobody ate!  Where
are they getting these plates?  I'm starved.  When we're done, let's go down
and see what they've got in the cafeteria.<<

     >>Okay, but you take the first bite.<<

     >>No, you!<<

     >>No, you do it!  I said so first!<<

     >>You take it!  That's an order!<<

     >>Who died and made you general?<<

     >>Nobody... yet!<<

     >>Oh yeah?  Ever seen _Mutiny on the Bounty?_<<

     >>You've been living in the wilds of New Zealand your whole life!  Where
did you see _Mutiny on the Bounty?<<

     >>I get around!<<

     >>Oh, sure....<<

     And so the conversation trails off into...

THE END

Kid Kiwi, Jynx, and the kiwis are all Ian's. 

***

Culinary Disasters Five
By Campbell March

   Bladed Lad admired himself in mirror... he adjusted his jacket so it sat
just right, muddled with his hair a little, and smiled.
   "Lookin' sharp," he told his reflection, "Let's hit the town."
   As he stepped out into the corridor, he bumped into Fan.Boy, who was just
coming out of Guitar Man's room.
   "Heya, big F, what's up?"
   "Just feeding Guitar Man's goldfish," replied Fan.Boy.   "Where're you off
to?"
   "Just meeting some friends in town, going out on the booze tonight."
   "Um.   You are aware you're rostered to cook tonight?"
   "I'm what?"
   "Rostered.   Y'know, remember how I cooked before?"   Bladed Lad nodded,
trying to hide his shudder.   "Well, it's your turn to do dinner tonight."
   "Just great.   Hey, you haven't seen Guitar Man about, have you?   He's
been gone a while and he didn't say where he was off to."   Fan.Boy looked
worried for a sec, and then smiled.
   "Sure.   He's hanging around with a rather, well, influential friend for
a while.   I don't know where he's headed right now but I do know he played
a short gig at a really unique nightclub, and he was very well received."
   "Oh well.   I guess as long as he's happy.   See ya."
   Bladed Lad fumed off towards the kitchen.

---

   "Hmmm..." muttered BL.   "I can cook two things well."   He peeked out
through the slightly-opened door at the gathering masses of apprehensive
LNH'ers.   "...and toast won't cut it.   It'll have to be omelettes."

---

   "Hello, MegaChicken's House of Eggs."
   "Hi, um, do you deliver?"
   "Sure do."
   "Could you have 60 eggs delivered to the LNH kitchen.   Bill 'Ultimate
Ninja, c/o LNH HQ.'"
   "Sure thing.   I'll despatch the MegaEggTruck right away, expect them in
the next 20 minutes."
   "Thanks."

---

   "Porky Pete's Pig Emporium."
   "Do you deliver?"
   "Yup."
   "5kg of Bacon to the LNH Kitchen, ASAP.   Please bill the Ultimate Ninja."
   "Kilowhat?"
   "Kilograms.   Um.   2.2 pounds to the kilo."
   "Thanks."

---

   "Cheesy Chris' Cheese Shop and Pet Supplies... 2kg of Grated cheese?
Certainly, sir.   Delivered, no problem.   Who shall I bill... OK, fine,
it'll be there soon."

---

   "Honest Omar's Used Camel Emporium, Abdul speaking.   May I interest you
in a low mileage camel?   We have a nice two-humper just come in that was
used by a little old lady on Sundays to wage jihad, going cheap."
   "Sorry, wrong number."

---

   Bladed Lad worked fast.   The eggs had arrived first and his recipe, which
was given to him by his mother, required the separation of the yolks and the
whites.   He started doing this as fast as possible, until he had two pots
filled 1/4 full of each.   He plugged in the eggbeater, and turned it on.
It whirred up to speed, and didn't stop speeding up.   Bladed Lad jumped for
the power switch but it exploded before he would release it.   The beaters,
spinning frantically, drilled through the kitchen wall.   A short set of
screams came from the next room, but Bladed Lad decided it was wiser not to
investigate.   He looked around for a replacement beater, but couldn't find
one ... so...

---

   Out in the cafetaria, New-Look lass struggled with a beater that had
managed to wind almost her entire hair around it.
   "Ow, don't pull that way, unroll it like... ow!   That's my HAIR!   Are
you trying to pull it all out, or just stretch it?"
   "Yes," said Ambiguity Lass.   "Sorry."
   A whirring started up in the kitchen, then the sounds of someone mixing.
   "Wait," said Cannon Fodder, "if the eggbeaters are in here, what's he
mixing with?"   None of the heroes in the room ran to the kitchen to see.
In fact, the only response was a mumbled "Pernickity eggbeaters, mmmm, we
had real eggbeaters back in the good old days.   None of this high-velocity
exploding hoo-hah" ... so he made his way carefully to the door...   Inside,
Bladed Lad hummed as he fluffed the whites with his fists, blades whirling.
Cannon Fodder pulled his head back.

---

   "Dice the bacon, of course," muttered Bladed Lad.   "But it needs to go
in now, oh, I never get the timing right.   Hmmm."   He threw the package of
bacon in the air and punched it swiftly, showering bacon pieces around the
room.

---

   In the cafetaria, the LNH'ers had gathered around the door, pushing for
a look, but Cannon Fodder had his back to the door and was holding it shut.
   "Move on, there's nothing to see," he said.   There was a splattering
noise from behind the door and several chunks of bacon flew out the holes
made by the eggbeater and settled on the floor.   The crowd of heroes surged,
but he managed to hold them back.

---

   Bladed lad opened the cheese.   "Aw, no.   I distinctly recall asking for
grated cheese.   Oh, well."   He hefted the cheese, and threw it in the
air...

---

   Cheese pattered on the floor, burying the bacon bits.   Time passed.

---

   Bladed Lad extracted his creation from the oven.   It was perfect.   He
hefted it, and set the pan on the table.   Steam wafted from the omelette
and the smell of just-cooked bacon wafted through the kitchen.   He went to
rub his hands on his jeans, then realised that he was wearing his best pair.
(Somehow, through all the other mess, Bladed Lad's outfit has remained
immaculate)   He hunted for a cloth to wipe his hands on, but none was
evident.   He was just starting a cupboard-hunt for paper towels when the
door banged open and a piece of cloth started to sprint across the floor.
Bladed Lad frowned, and scooped it up as it skittered past his feet.   He
wiped his hands on it, and suddenly it made a leap for his mouth.
   "Mmmmphm  Mpphm Mmmmmph," said Bladed Lad, and snatched it away, throwing
it back to the floor.   It hit the ground running, and vanished from the
room.   Bladed Lad shrugged, and turned his attention to the omelette.  He
divided it up into decent serving sizes and put it on plates.

---

   The door to the kitchen from the cafetaria banged open and Bladed Lad
entered, bearing two large plates piled with steaming omelette.   The LNHers
quickly grabbed a portion each, but those knowledgable in the field of group
dynamics will note that despite each hero having a piece, no-one has actually
_eaten_ any of it yet.  This is probably because Bladed Lad hasn't actually
got a piece.
   "Aren't _you_ going to have some," said Figment Lad, just when everyone
was thinking 'No-one mention that BL hasn't got any.'
   "Nope," replied Bladed Lad.   "I'm allergic to dairy products."
   He vanished in a cloud of ballistic omelette.   Only one piece remained
unthrown.
   "Ummm, this is good," said Fan.Boy, around a mouthful.   "I'm a real fan
of this omelette."

---

Bladed Lad is copyright me, Sasquatch, March_C at kosmos.wcc.govt.nz

Fan.Boy used with permission.

I think the rest are public domain, 'pologies if they aren't :-)

***

Vague Admin type stuff.

Okay, the BTB storyline will finish next issue. Phew. So no more Culinary
Disaster stories okay? Except for Mistlock's. Unless you've written something
already. 

Jaelle.

From: ihimaera_j at ix.wcc.govt.nz
Newsgroups: rec.arts.comics.creative
Subject: LNH: LNH Comics Presents #32
Date: 23 Jul 1995 01:54:04 GMT


LNH Comics Presents #32

Note: There has been a change in format in this issue, in that the 'back-up'
stories are being printed _first_. This is because they occur slightly before
the main story. Here we go:

Culinary Disasters Six: Funky Cold Burritos
By Jeff McCoskey

        Frat Boy heaved a heavy sigh and flung his body onto the couch in
the LNH TV Room.  Time-Waster Lad, The Incredible Unsleeping Man and
Super Apathy Lad were, as usual, his late night compatriots.
        "What's up Frat Boy?" asked T-WL.
        "I got tapped to cook for the LNH tomorrow," the Greek Gladiator
moaned.  "And UN ruled out peanut butter and Ramen noodles.  I can't
cook anything else!"
        "Feh.  Blow 't'off," mumbled SAL, though he didn't really seem to
care.
        "How bad could you do?" asked IUM.  "After the Net.Villain eat-in,
and Panta's all-you-can-eat Liver Buffet, you've got it made.  Cook up
roadkill and they'll sing your praises."
        "Yeah, like I could find that much roadkill," grumbled Frat Boy.
        The room was silent for a while.  On television, the USA Net.work
(Unredeemable Sex and Action) continued with its presentation of
"Topless Sorority Girls with Guns Fight the Anti-Christ."
        Frat Boy burst out again, "I mean even a food fight, which should
really be _my_ forte, its been done!  'I'm a zit' only gets me so far."
Frat Boy's face clouded in misery.  "Where the hell is Meat-and-Potatoes
Man when you really need him?"
        The room fell back silent, with the giggling/automatic wepons
fire/demonic laughter soundtrack the only sound.  Frat Boy found his way
out of his funk.  "Y'know this movie is not half bad."  A while later.
"Half-naked coeds, action and adventure, fighting evil.  Nice combo."
        Incredible Unsleeping Man looked over at the journeyman hero.
"Did you just get here?  We _live_ this."
        "Yeah, have you met Warbabe?" asked T-WL.
        "All 'cept the ed't'd f'r TV love scenes," pointed out SAL
indifferently.
        Frat Boy's eyes lit up with inspiration.  "Until now!  Gents,
you've given me the idea for the ultimate spiked punch!"
        Frat Boy ran from the room, while the others looked on bewildered.
        "Hope he s'rves 't au grautin."

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

        "What was the movie?" asked Master Blaster.
        "Topless Sorority Girls with Guns Fight the Anti-Christ," answered
Frat Boy impatiently.
        "Excellent film.  Part of my personal library.  Nice dialogue."
        "That's not important.  What's important is everyone is going to
expect me to spike the drink, right?"
        "Naturally."
        "Well why not spike the _food_ instead?"
        "Grain Jello?  You know most of these characters' writers are _in_
college.  They're not going to fall for that."
        Frat Boy waved his arms in frustration.  "Stay with me here.  In
the LNH we've got women in scandalous stages of undress.  We've got
heavy weaponry.  We've got evil to fight.  What's the only thing we lack
to turn this place into a perfect 'B' movie?"
        "1-900 commercials?"
        "No..."
        "A way to screen the under 18 crowd from racc?"
        "No..."
        "A key to Martin's psyche?"
        "No!  All we need are for the heroines to be mindlessly amourous!"
        "That's what I just said..."
        "Listen.  If I told you my meal could turn every heroine in this
HQ into a 'B' movie sex kitten, temporarily of course, would you help?"
        Master Blaster looked Frat Boy cold in the eye.  "That would be
wrong."  The thoughts that played behind his brain pan are best left
unrevealed on a family-accessible newsgroup.  Then he burst out in
hysterical laughter.  "What are you kidding?  I'm your man."

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

        Sister State-the-Obvious remained frozen, her hand poised to knock
on Master Blaster's door.  She had arrived moments ago, and Frat Boy's
voice had stalled her hand.  She was glad it had.  She had overheard
enough to be disturbed.  Behind the door, the two men's voices decreased
to a conspriatorial whisper.  SStO muttered to herself, "Those two are
up to no good."

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

        Master Blaster stepped out of the Kirbian machine, and raised his
hand to his forehead.
        "You okay, MB?" asked Frat Boy.
        "Just a little woozy.  What exactly is that machine for again?"
        "Well I set the machine to tap your peculiar energy fields,
synergistically replicate them, then interphase it with a sterile saline
solution, chemicaly inducing sympathetic effect."
        "When did you become a techno-wizard?"
        "What?  Oh, I was just reading aloud from 'Dr.Stomper's Annotated
Star Trek Technology.'  For you, all I did was press the big green
button.  But what I think it did was create this..."  Frat Boy held up a
beaker filled with deep red solution.  "Pure, Distilled, Mac Daddy
vibes.  Guaranteed to turn women's thoughts to..."
        Master Blaster added his voice.  "...LOVE.  HAhahahaha."

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

        Needless to say, the gathered heroes were a bit trepidatious after
the recent mealtime mishaps.  Most seemed pleasantly surprised by the
respectable-appearing Mexican food Frat Boy had concocted.  Master
Blaster and Frat Boy both wore aprons as they served the Legion dinner.
They were especially gracious to the Net.Heroines that filed through the
line.
***************************************************************************
        After the dubious dinners the LNH had endured, few left without a
heaping plate of Frat Boy's "Funky Cold Burritos."
***************************************************************************
        Sister State-the-Obvious and Suzy Sorority were among the last
through the line.
        "Sis!  Hand that plate on up, we'll get you set up.  Looks like
you and Suzy Sorority get the last of the Burritos.  Enjoy!"
        "We've got the last ones?" asked SStO.  "What'll you two eat?  You
deserve something after finally making something edible."
        "Oh don't worry about us.  We'll be having placebo..."  Frat Boy
smacked him on the back.  "...polenta."
        Suzy Sorority piped up.  "Oh no, that's just so unfair.  You guys go
to all this trouble, make a great meal, and don't get any yourselves.
Frat Boy, I must insist you share my portion."
        "Oh, really, I couldn't."
        "I simply refuse to eat any unless you have some too."  Suzy Sorority
leaned forward innocently, twirling her pearls between her fingers.
        "I agree," stated Sister State-the-Obvious.
        Frat Boy whispered an aside, "This stuff won't affect men, right?"
        "You want me to smack you?  Hell no," replied Master Blaster.
        "Sure Suzy," smiled Frat Boy.
        The foursome went to a nearby table to eat.
        "Mmm.  These are absolutely delicious," stated SStO.  "Mmmm.
divine.  I, I feel so..."  She began running her hand sensuously
along her torso.  "What type of spice is this?  I feel so, feel so,
decadent."
        Master Blaster and Frat Boy traded a secret grin while they wolfed
down their portions.
        Suzy Sorority licked her lips slowly.  "Oooh, I can't bear to miss
any of this sauce."
        SStO cast a smoldering stare at her paramour.  "Master Blaster, I
think maybe your waiting is over, lover.  If you get my meaning."  She ran
an electric hand on his thigh.
        "I don't think so Sis.  Wouldn't you rather have a long talk about
our relationship?"  MB's face showed shock at his own words.
        Frat Boy spit his burrito back on his plate.  "Whaaaat?"
        Master Blaster chastely removed Sister State-the-Obvious's hand.
"We have alot of unresolved feelings and issues between us.  It wouldn't
be right to be intimate until we thoroughly work through them.  Could we
find a quiet place to just talk and be ourselves?"
        Frat Boy grabbed a knife to cut out Master Blaster's tongue, which
he was sure Master Blaster was praying he would do.  Suzy Sorority reached
across the table and grabbed his hand.  "Frat Boy, let's not waste time
playing with cutlery.  I want you.  Now."
        In response the Greek Gladiator astounded himself.  "Suzy,
our relationship is based largely on a history of substance abuse.
It just wouldn't be right.  Can we go somewhere and talk through this
compulsive behavior of yours?"

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

        Sister State-the-Obvious, Suzy Sorority, Organic Lass and Sing-Along
Lass were gathered at the exit to the cafeteria.
        "Thanks again Sing-Along Lass for reprogramming Kirby's
equipment."
        "Not at all, Sis.  Those two had it coming for sure."
        Suzy Sorority piped up.  "We need to thank Special Bonding Boy later,
too.  After all, it was his 'essence' that got substituted for Master
Blaster's.  You're sure it won't cause any permanent damage, right
Organic Lass?"
        "Not at all.  They'll just be more sensitive for about 24 hours,
that's it."  In the background, Sarcastic Lad was composing an ode in iambic
pentameter to the women he'd wronged in the past.  "Well, not them _alone_..."
        "But they'll remember today clearly, right?" asked Sister State-
the-Obvious urgently.  "In every detail, including their own words and
actions.  Or lack thereof?"
        "Sure," replied the Maid of Molecules, puzzled.
        "Great, thanks again guys."  Suzy Sorority and Sister State-the-
Obvious turned to leave.
        "Where are you two going?"
        "Frat Boy and Master Blaster are waiting for us in their rooms --
for a long conversation," said Suzy Sorority.
        "So we need to change into our skimpiest negligees," said Sister
State-the-Obvious as if explaining the self-evident.

***

Culinary Disasters Seven: La disaster de Culinaire.
By Mistlock.

        " What is food to one, is to others bitter poison."
                               -- Lucretius, _De Rerum Natura_, bk.IV

        Something exploded.

        " Crap! Savannah, what was that?" shouted Paytan from deep inside
the walk-in refridgerator, searching for the eggs.

        " What?"

        " Savannah, did something just explode?"

        " Um, hold on..... Yeah, there's some fresh brocoli stuck to the
ceiling. Was that supposed to happen?"

        " No! Take the brocoli pan off the stove!"

        " Which one?"

        " Both of them! Quick, before the other one goes! Ha! Found the
eggs! Okay, what's next... Bloody hell. Has anybody seen the frozen
peas?"

        " I can't find the relish!" shouted Brittany from the huge
walk-in pantry at the other end of the kitchen.

        " Of course you can't find the relish. You keep the relish in the
refridgerator!" yelled Paytan across the kitchen.

        " I do not! Relish goes in the pantry, right next to the milk!"

        " Brittany - "

        " Weirdness Girl."

        " Brittany."

        " Weirdness Girl."

        " Brittany!"

        " Weirdness Girl!"

        " Guys, is the roast supposed to be at 150 degrees?"

        " AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"

        " Turn it down! Turn it down!" Brit emerged from the pantry at
run and threw herself at the stove dial. "Ummmmm, what temp. are we
supposed to have it at, anyways?" Savannah shrugged.

        " Try 90 degress," she said.

        " Okay," Brit spun the dial. "Have you seen the relish?"

        " OPEN this door! I MUST have words with you, in the name of OUR
LORD GOD, before your eternal souls are LOST to all the legions of Hell!"
screamed someone on the other side of the kitchen door. They were
knocking loudly, too. Brittany swung the door open and stuck her head
out.

        " Hi! Are you looking for Fuzzy? She's in the rec.lounge, I
think. I'm Weirdness Girl." She stuck out her hand. Self-Righteous
Preacher looked down his nose at her and sniffed.

        " I have LEARNED that one of the members of your little 'clique'
summons DEMONIC ENTITIES! If she does not want to LOSE her ETERNAL SOUL
she must SAVED, unlike that infernal Demon B - "

        " Do YOU belive that BINKY is a COSMIC POWER, and that if we do
not keep his altar really SPIFFY, he will DESTROY the world every
fortnight or so?"

        " You worship FALSE IDOLS! Is there no sense of GOODNESS left in
this world? You are all SINNERS - "

        WHANG!

        " Heathen," muttered Brittany, and withdrew back into the
kitchen, broccoli pan in hand. "Has anyone seen the relish?"

        " I'm still looking for the frozen peas."

        " The salad's done," said Savannah, peering into one of the pots
on the stove. Brittany swept it off the stove and threw another pot on,
this one filled with chicken soup. Then she was off again, heading into
the walk-in fridge, presumably for the relish. She passed Paytan on her
way out with the peas and eggs.

        " Okay Savannah," said Paytan,"What do we still need to do?"
Savannah stuck her hand out and felt around the table, grabbing a piece
of paper and hauling it in front of her eyes.

        " We've got the salad, the soup's cooking, we still need to do
the veggies and the roast," she said, then slowly brought her gaze up to
Paytan. "Ummm, why do you have eggs?"

        " We don't need eggs?"

        " Nope. Not unless you want to put them in with the roast."

        " Damn."

        " Hey guys, are you sure you haven't seen the relish anywhere?"
Brit stuck her head out of the pantry. "You know, sneaking off someplace,
planning revenge, world domination, you know?" Paytan sighed.

        " Here, catch!" she threw the eggs at Brit, and trotted towards
the pantry.

        " Yaaaaaagh! Ack! ack! ack!" Brit threw herself forwards, trying
desperately to catch the small white ovoids even now flying towards her.
She managed to get most of them.

        " You figure out something to do with them," said Paytan,
disapearing into the fridge," and I'll find the relish." Brit looked
doubtfully at the surviving eggs, then shrugged and sat down at the table
with them.

        " Anybody seen the markers?"

                      -=p=-             -=p=-

        Time passed. The roast cooked. It looked a little weird when they
were done, but hey, it was creative. The veggies took a bit of ingenuity
too. Time continued to pass. Eventually, it was done.

        " Okay, we've got the roast, the soup, the salad, where's the
brocoli?"

        " On the ceiling."

        " Oh yeah."

        " Well, most of it, anyways."

                      -=p=-             -=p=-

        The iron curtain between the cafeteria and kitchen was raised to
reveal plate upon plate of something resembling food, and Paytan,
standing behind it all, with a plate of relish in her hands. Someone had
taken the time to roll it into little balls, faintly resembling peas.

        " Dinner," she smiled evily,"is served."

        The roast was, well, interesting, as was the surviving broccoli.
The salad wasn't so bad, even if was served steaming hot. Even the soup,
which had a rather sinister cast to it, turned out okay. Well, if not
okay, at least not horrible. Okay, okay, so it was horrible. It beat
eating the relish/peas. But everybody got a souvenir egg, hard-boiled and
and colored to match that particular hero's costuming color and design
choice. Even Self-Righteous Preacher, who glared at Brittany across the
counter as she was handing them out.

        They never did find the frozen peas.

        Well, Brit put out an APB on them, but nobody seemed to pay much
attention....

        To this day, no one knows where they went.

                      -=p=-             -=p=-

All character used except for one are mine.
Self-Righteous Preacher is wReam's used, again, w/out permission.
   I beg his forgiveness.
          Jenn  -)

***

Culinary Disasters Eight
By Steve Hutchison

>poing<

The sound of the "you have mail" tone filled the close confines
of the smoke-filled chamber.

"What the heck..."  The smoke was disturbed momentarily in a roughly
human outline, as the occupant of the chamber gestured.

In response to the movement, a window opened in the air, of the
Ditko-esque "tunnel to infinity" variety.  The entity in the chamber
peered thru the opening for a long moment, then touched the window.

The smoke swirled again as the chamber was suddenly empty.


The one known only (or mostly) as Ultimate Ninja was performing one
of his many Obscure Oriental Arts.  There were so many of them that
he had to schedule his administrative work into the break periods
between the different Arts.

This particular Obscure Art was the folding of paper in such a way
that tremendous energy would be released at a predetermined time.
The shapes were peculiarly like flowers, which allowed another
Obscure Art to be practiced at the same time: Ninja Flower Arrangement.
Any number of extraordinarily painful deaths could be delivered
by messenger.  In this exercise, the explosive paper flowers would be
made into a lovely bouquet, scented with an extract of lotus that
was elegantly sensual and (when driven into flesh by the force of
the detonating paper) the cause of an inevitable, but painless, death.

The last perfect fold had been placed in a pristine sheet of pale
yellow paper, and the Ultimate Ninja was about to touch the paper
with a single drop of the secret lotus extract, when a warm breeze
washed thru the room.  Hearing and seeing nothing, the Master of
Instant Devastation came to the correct conclusion.

"Incendiary, why have you come into my office?"

The voice that answered him was cold, with a faint whisper that
made it hard to hear.

"What is this nonsense in my mail?  Have you finally lost the
remaining shreds of your sanity?"

The Ninja closed the stopper on the bottle and began the arduous
process of actually folding the flower of death into its proper
shape.  "What are you talking about?"

"I've been ordered to report to the cafeteria for kitchen duty."

"Well, then, you'd better report.  It's almost dinner time."

The room grew warmer suddenly.  "Listen, you walking cliche',
there is no way I'm going to cook dinner.  It's not going to
happen.  Forget it."

The next fold of paper required almost all of the Ninja's
prodigious mastery of chi and he had little breath left when
he finished.  "Incendiary.  Everyone has to.  Even Panta did
a shift."

"You seem to have forgotten something.  Not surprising."

The Ninja carefully folded the last petal into place.  He
frowned.  "I haven't forgotten anything."

"Not even this?"  The room grew MUCH warmer and the humanlike
outline gradually became visible as an intense heat-ripple.
The left hand reached out and lifted the flower from the table,
or tried to -- it rose a half inch, then fell thru the hand
and burst into flames.

The ninja was annoyed.  "I know you're intangible, Incendiary.
That's no excuse for shirking your duty.  You're a creative
being, so be creative.  Now go make dinner."

"Fine."  With an abrubt _whoosh_ the room was almost 90 degrees
cooler.  A black-leather-clad hand raked back thru sandy brown
hair and the Ultimate Ninja surveyed the rest of his carefully
folded blooms for scorch-marks.


He had almost finished the bouquet when someone knocked on his
door.  He muttered "Enter" absently as he placed a yellow stem
in perfect counterpoint to three greenish-blue roses.

"Mister Ninja?"  The head of the LNH's resident cleaning staff
peeked around the door.

"What is it, Squeaky?"

"We're gonna have to order take-out food delivered, sir."

"Why?"

"Well, the kitchen won't be fixed for a few days."

"What?"

"Yeah, someone told the Invisible Incendiary to cook dinner, and
he hired some civilian kitchen workers for the night, sorta to be
his hands?  It wasn't too bad at first.  Trouble is, Innovative
Offense Boy made some remarks about the food.  Things went from
bad to worse to omigawd, and, well, all the food in the kitchen
has been burned, blown up, or prepared British style."

Ultimate Ninja considered for a moment.  "So our choices are to
buy take-out or eat Baby's Head Pudding?"

"Yessir."

"And, the kitchen has been, what would you say, damaged?"

"Burnt out shell, sir."

The janitor had made his way actually into the room.

"Baby's Head vs. budget for ..." the Ninja muttered.
"I'll call for Chicken-de-lite."

"Good choice, sir."

***

And now, the moment you've all been waiting for...

LNH Comics Presents #32: It's All In The Timing Part Seven
The End of the MisAdventures of Bad-Timing Boy
Co-starring Cheesecake Eater Lad, Good-Timing Girl and her siblings.

"If something can go wrong, it will and at the worst possible time and
place." - Murphy's Law.

"Murphy was an optimist." - ?

*-*

Bad-Timing Boy (Brad), Good-Timing Girl (Syncity), Practical Girl
(Sensibility), Emotive Lass (Sensitivity) and Cheesecake Eater Lad have
been captured and tied to a Whirling Machine'O'Death by a mysterious person,
who has promised to exposit the reasons for this whole storyline. Ha!
And if you believe that...)

*-*

The mysterious figure loomed closer to the bound figures, then, with a
single gesture, threw back the cowl hiding his face.
        "FRANK!" yelled everybody in surprise (and pain at the cliche).
        "Yes, it is I, Frank! I, your brother! Well, Syncity, Sensibility and
Sensetivity's brother anyway. I am the one who has been tricking you this
whole time."
        "But WHY?" asked Syncity.
        "I'm soooo glad you asked me that." Frank yanked a rope and a
screen was revealed. Grabbing a tub of popcorn and a control unit, he
pushed a button, the first slide popped up on the screen. It showed Valhal.
        "Valhal, a beautiful paradise, full of plants and happy people."
        [The next picture showed a cross-section of a mine.]
        "And full of lots and lots of valuable minerals. I discovered
tgus fact, and decided to drive everybody away so that I could
strip mine the place and become rich and powerful. I built an earthquake
projector,"
        [Slide showing a earthquake projector.]
        "to shake the place around a bit and get rid of the people..."
        [Slide of people running in fear.]
        "but they wouldn't scare. It was then that I discovered the
threat to my plans posed by one person,"
        [Slide showing Syncity.]
        "Me?"
        "You. As Good-Timing Girl, your talent for being in the right
place at the right time threatened my plans, you might have shown up just
as I was about to get rid of everyone for good. So I decided to... fix
you. So in my position as generally important person I made sure that you
would be senton the mission to target the man I blamed for the quakes."
        [Slide of Bad-Timing Boy.]
        "I'd intended to reveal the fact that he was not in fact the
source of our troubles once you returned, making you so upset at killing
an innocent man that you would immediately leave Valhal. But what
actually happened far surpassed my expectations."
        [Slide of Bad-Timing Boy and Good-Timing Girl battling in the
Peril Room.]
        "I never dreamed that the heartsword would cause your powers to
switch, and that subsequent efforts to return your powers would only
succeed in making you both normal. But just to make sure I decided to
have you captured and brought here, where I will now have to, er, remove
Cheesecake Eater Lad and Brad."
        "Remove?" spat Syncity, "You mean _kill_."
        "Well, yes." admitted Frank, "But don't worry, it won't hurt...
much."
        Cheesecake Eater Lad and Brad gulped.
        "What about us?" asked Practical Girl.
        Frank looked guilty.
        Emotive Lass spoke up suddenly, "You're going to kill us too
aren't you?"
        "Yes." admitted Frank, "But it will be painless... really!"
        "Painless in what sense?" asked Syncity.
        "Painless as in less than what the other two will go through."
said Frank, "And now, goodbye, it's time for me to shake the place apart.
Have a nice day."
        Pulling a lever, he exited, locking the door behind him. The
Whirling Machine'O'Death began to spin, and knives clicked out of various
places.
        "How the heck are we going to get out of this one?" asked
Cheesecake Eater Lad.
        "No problemo," said Syncity, "I'll just teleport us out." She
concentrated, nothing happened. "What?"
        "Look," said Practical Girl, "these bonds are made of Teflail!"
        "Teflail!" gasped Syncity, "The one thing I can't teleport through!"
        "What a corny plot element." said Cheesecake Eater Lad.
        "So now what do we do?" asked Practical Girl.
        "I have absolutely no idea." said Syncity.
        "I do." said Brad.

***

        "Is the machine ready?" asked Frank.
        "It sure is boss." said one of the thugs from before, "Ready to rock."
        "And ready to roll." said Frank. "Alright, begin low pressure."
        There was a faint trembling in the stone.

***

        "Okay, is everybody ready?" asked Brad.
        "Yes." they all chorused back.
        "Here we go."
        Cheesecake Eater Lad concentrated and cheesecakes flew from his
wrist attachments to spatter against the knives, gumming them up and
gaining the heros a few moments in which to breathe. Concentrating with
all his might he formed a gravel and concrete cheesecake and fired it. It
bounced off the wall, off Syncity's leg, off Brad's elbow, off Emotive
Lass's head, off Practical Girl's toolbelt and into the lever controlling
the Whirling Machine'O'Death, which gradually slowed to a halt, the
knives slowed and gradually stopped, handily close enough so that the
heros could use them to cut the ropes. Nothin' but net.
        "Okay, let's go get him!"

***

Frank smiled, "Bring the machine up to full power... no..."
        "STOP!" yelled a heroic sounding voice.
        Frank and the thugs turned in unison to see the full complement
of heros glaring at them.
        "No," Frank shouted, "After all my planning, I _won't_ let you
stop me!"
        "We will defeat you, if it's the last thing we do!" yelled
Cheesecake Eater Lad.
        "Ha! With cheesecake?" asked Frank.
        "No, with... with... with... um... Yeah! With cheesecake!"
retorted Cheesecake Eater Lad.
        "Then you'll die, and my victory will be assured," the heros
tuned Frank out as he began a standard villain rant.
        "You know, if either of your sisters have powers, now is the time
to reveal them." Brad said to Syncity.
        "Leave him to us," said Practical Girl practically, "You three
handle the thugs and we'll cope with our brother."
        "...I will have my revenge!" ranted Frank.
        "Oh for goodness sake, get on with it. There's no point in haranguing
us
when we're all ready to battle." snapped Practical Girl, "Why don't you just
record the speech and play it back to all the heros, that way you could get
on with something else, saving time."
        "Erk," Frank fell to his knees.
        "Oh now look what you've done Billy, you've hurt his feelings."
Emotive Girl knelt down next to him; "I understand how difficult it is
for you." she crooned softly, putting her hand reassuringly on the
villain's shoulder, "You've worked _so_ hard and now it's time for the
culmination of all your efforts, you're probably nervous and yet
expectant." she sighed, "I think that's wonderful."
        Frank just stared at her, he managed to choke out, "Get them."
and the heros disappeared under a wave of thugs.
        Time after time the heros repulsed the minions of Frank,
Cheesecake Eater Lad's spinach, broccoli, and brussel sprout cheesecake
was particularly good at repulsing them.
        "If you don't eat your greens you'll get scurvy!" Practical Girl
shouted after one retreating villain.
        "This isn't working!" yelled Brad, "They still outnumber us! We
can't hold them off for much longer."
        "Relax," counselled Emotive Lass, "Take a deep breath, counter
your fears with some Tai Chi and owwwwww!" A henchman hit her across the
face. "You.. you.. _hit_ me! Right, that does it! NO PRISONERS!" Grabbing
a handy henchman, Emotive Lass swung him round her head a few times and
charged the rest of the thugs. The heros stared after her, the sad sight
of an emotive counsellor pushed too far.
        "Uh oh." commented Syncity, "She could get into trouble like that."
        "But not as much as you're going to be in," said Frank, who had
recovered. The heros turned to face him, "We'll stop you." stated
Cheesecake Eater Lad.
        Frank just shook his head and looked at him, "Please Cheesecake
Eater Lad, can't you see that I don't mean any harm." CELad stared at
him, mesmerised. The other heros began to feel his power.
        "You want to destroy Valhal." said Syncity.
        Frank smiled at her, "You know I only want to do what's best." he
said sincerely.
        Sincerely, thought Brad, you mean Sincerity! Your real name, and
evidentally, like the girl's, your real power as well.
        "Syncity, we have to stop your brother." he said. Syncity looked
at him, "Why... I mean how? Can't you feel that he's only doing what's
best."
        "Urk." said Brad, as he struggled against Frank's mind control.
        Synchronicity struggled with herself and tried to find her
powers, but they were gone, lost at the beginning of this storyline,
"Brad. Remember. The. Peril. Room?"
        Brad Thomas Boyle and Synchronicity Millar grabbed each others
hands and concentrated.
        "Put aside your cheesecake CELad," Frank was saying, "You won't
be harmed. What's going on over there? NO!" The sincerity broken,
Cheesecake Eater Lad frisbeed his cheesecake to Practical Girl, who
smashed it into her brothers face. But then then thugs returned, and the
two heros were buried under wave after wave of cannon fodder.
        Meanwhile, Synchronicity and Brad were engaged in a slow motion
wrestle, their hands were glowing red and their teeth were clenched as
they reached for the shattered remains of their powers. Finding them,
they checked they were all there, catalogued them, and put them into
alphabetical order, then the nature of their powers fused, rejected, and
finally healed in a cataclysmical explosion that shook everybody in the
room to their very cores.
        (Wow, I'm very impressed.) Thank you.
        Frank shook the dust from his head, and looked down. Sprawled at
his feet were the unconcious bodies of Cheesecake Eater Lad, Practical
Girl, Emotive Lass, and Bad-Timing Boy. He smiled and grabbed a sword
from the table in front of him, "This ends now." He raised the sword, and
then chopped down at the fallen net.heros.
        CLANG.
        Frank's startled eyes met those of his sister, "No." he whispered.
        "Oh yeah baby," smiled Good-Timing Girl, "I'm back in business."
        Their swords met again and again as they dueled over the bodies
of the heros. Ringing, chiming, in a manner only Badger could do justice
to because he knows the names of these moves and swords and I don't, but
nevertheless, it was pretty damn impressive. And the outcome was never
truly in doubt. Well, it came into question briefly at one point when
Bad-Timing Boy regained conciousness and stumbled into Good-Timing Girl,
but she managed to jump out of the way and Frank tripped over him soo...
to cut a long story short, she kicked the crap out of him. About time too.
        "We WON!" yelled Emotive Lass. "Hooray!"
        And yea verily, they had won.

***

Later that day, Good-Timing Girl teleported Bad-Timing Boy and Cheesecake
Eater Lad back to LNHHQ none the worse for wear (well, aside from one
fractured finger, some abrasions and a lot of bruises).
        "Phew, it's sure good to be back." said Bad-Timing Boy, clutching
their farewell gift from the Sorcerix, a stuffed bird.
        "Yup, and it's good to know that Frank won't be bothering anyone
for a while. Having to repair all of the damage he created will keep him
busy." grinned Cheesecake Eater Lad.
        Writers Block Woman and Mouse wandered into the foyer, stopped,
and stared, "Can it be?" asked WBW. They ran off into the corridors.
        "I am truly truly sorry for trying to kill you before." said
Good-Timing Girl, as Doctor Stomper entered, "But now that our powers
have switched back we're both back to normal."
        "That's okay," said Bad-Timing Boy, "I'll get over it." Suddenly
he became aware of the fact that a huge group of LNHers had accumulated
and was staring at the small group. "What's going on?"
        "CHEESECAKE EATER LAD IS BAAAAAACK!!! WE WANT FOOOOOOOOOOD!!" the
starved and crazed LNHers overran Good-Timing Girl and Bad-Timing Boy in
their rush to be near the master of cheesecake.
        "Yerk!" B-TB and G-TG teleported away from them.
        "Phew. What's gotten into them?" asked G-TG.
        "Evidentally not cheesecake." replied Bad-Timing Boy. "Well, I
guess this is goodbye."
        "Yup, till next time anyway." smiled Good-Timing Girl, "Take
care." With that, she teleported away.
        Bad-Timing Boy smiled and headed down the corridor, along the way
he bumped into Kid Kiwi.
        "Hey! I heard that Cheesecake Eater Lad is back." the boy said.
        "Yup he is. Hey, look what I got." Bad-Timing Boy held up the
gift from the Sorcerix proudly. Tad's eyes widened.
        "A STUFFED KIWI! You FIEND! Kiwi squad, form up!"
        "KI-WI KI-WI!"
        "ARGH!"

Things were definately back to normal.

The END.

***

Credits:
Ahahahahahahahahaha.... I'm perfectly sane!

Bad-Timing Boy, Cheesecake Eater Lad are Public Domain.
Writers Block Woman and Mouse are mine.
Kid Kiwi and the Kiwis are Ian's, and used completely, utterly, and
flagrantly without permission. Sorry Ian!
Everyone else was Public Domain, in the event that anyone ever wants to
use Syncity, Valhal and the rest of that lot, just let me know. I'm not
going to bother sticking them in the roster. Consider them one-offs
(unless there is a demand for them, which I doubt).
Thanks to everyone who wrote a Culinary Disaster, they were great!
Apologies to Hubert, whose story got printed in here as well as in Tales
of the LNH.
Also thanks to Neil Gaiman, for the Angela miniseries that inspired this
story.
And now I am going to go and bang my head against a hard object. Have a
nice day.

Jaelle.

==========
Next Week: The EMPLOYEE-EMPOWERED, PARADIGM-SHIFTED,
INDIVIDUAL-OWNERSHIP, DOWNSIZED, STREAMLINED, REENVIGORATED CRIMES of
the BROTHERHOOD of NET.VILLAINS!!  Part One!
==========

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




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