LNH: Classic LNH Adventures #50: Flame Wars III Part Two

Arthur Spitzer arspitzer2 at gmail.com
Sun Feb 25 12:53:03 PST 2018

In this weeks reposting of stuff you can find in the eyrie archive
we have the second section of FLAME WARS III!

It's a New Zealand double header:

Firstly, we have Jamas Enright with Fan.Boy #11.  Fan.Boy meets
two blue cloaked beings named Pjack and Pjill.  Will there be
a someone going up a Phill in this story?

Next, we have Jessica "Jaelle" Ihimaera-Smiler with Writer's Block
Woman #21 where we see if Mouse can outrun a large, hulking, armored
guy who just wants to kill all time travelers.

And now..

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

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

                                     ADVENTURES #50

                        Flame Wars III Part Two

From: thad at sans.vuw.ac.nz (The Thad Man)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.comics.creative,alt.comics.lnh
Subject: LNH: Fan.Boy #11 (Flame Wars 3 part 3)
Date: 30 Oct 1995 11:50:02 +1300

Blue Light Productions presents:

               F L A M E  W A R S  I I I  - PART 3 OF 6
______  _________   _____   ____ ____      _______      _____    ___   ___
|    |  |       |  /  _  \  |   \|  |      |  /\  \    /  _  \   \  \ /  /
|BLiP|  |  |~~~~~ /  / \  \ |    |  |      |  \/   |  /  / \  \   \  |  /
|    |  |  ~~~~~| |  ~~~  | |       | ____ |      /  |  |   |  |   |   |
|#11 |  |  |~~~~~ |  ___  | |  |    | |  | |  /\  ~|  \  \ /  /    |   |
|    |  |  |      |  | |  | |  |\   | |  | |  ~~  /    \  ~  /     |   |
~~~~~~  ~~~~      ~~~~ ~~~~ ~~~~ ~~~~ ~~~~ ~~~~~~~      ~~~~~      ~~~~~

       [The cover is focusing on a man with a glass skull. He is holding 
        Net.ropolis in one hand. In the other can be seen Barry Knewbee 
        and Contraption Man, standing zombie like. The man is saying in 
        a large speech bubble "ALL THAT I HOLD, IS MINE!"]


"Mmm. Mfp." Fan.Boy woke up, grappling with something in his mouth. He 
tore a piece of cloth off, and held it, peering at it. It moved in his 
hand, and he threw it away, startled. He heard it scamper off.
        Fan.Boy groaned. This was not how he wanted to start the day. 
However, as he was now awake, he may as well get up. He reached for his 
glasses and slid out out of bed.
        While getting ready, he considered his duties. He had spent the 
rest of the previous few days cleaning the hanger bay, as due penance for 
stealing a net.thingee. While he had got to know Captain Cleanup quite 
well by then, he knew he couldn't face another day of it.
        Perhaps he could sneak out with out the Ultimate Ninja noticing. 
Yeah, and Guitar Man might play something people could listen to. 
Speaking of which, perhaps he'd better check up on GM's goldfish.


Downstairs, Barry Knewbee crept through the hallways. In an attempt for 
anonymity, Barry had decided to go for a non-spandex look, leading to 
jeans and a t-shirt with "I survived a Constantine" printed on it.
        As he passed the reception desk, he waved to Mike Nilsen, a new 
        Outside, he had barely enough time to get down the steps before 
he heard someone say "Ah, just the sort of person we've been searching 
for," and then something over took his mind.


An explosion had occurred here, not too long ago, but the damage had been 
erased. It was amazing what money could achieve these days.
        Light filled the room, a bright luminescence, which slowly 
lessened from the outlying areas to concentrate in the centre of the 
apartment, taking on a shape as it did so. Soon, an outline hung in the 
air, a form of anti-silhouette, outlining a man's body.
        The radiance died, revealing a man frozen in position with his 
eyes closed. His eyes snapped open, and he looked around the room.
        "Bah," he muttered. "Alive again."
        Although he knew there were things he should be doing, he sat down 
sulkily on the couch. He folded his arms and stared ahead, refusing to 
acknowledge anything.
        #GET ON WITH IT#
        "Shan't" the man said, in a childish voice. Although there was 
no visible response he eventually stood up. "Oh, all right, but stop 
doing that. What do you want me to do?"
        #YOU KNOW#
        The man nodded moodily. That was the problem. He did.
        "Buffer," he sighed. He hated going to the Legion of Net.Heroes'
Head Quarters. He generally considered the place beneath him. This time, 
he needed to fetch something.
        He walked out of the apartment. He opened the doors to the lift 
shaft, and peered down into the darkness.
        Taking a deep breath, he jumped.


Barry Knewbee turned around. At least, his body did. His mind was doing 
something more like 360s.
        "Boy, we require your aid."
        Before Barry stood three individuals. Two of them were similar in 
appearances. They wore long blue cloaks, had orange skin, and the tops 
of their heads were made of plastiglass, allowing Barry to see the 
brains inside. Barry received the impression that one was male and the 
other female, but this was not obvious from physical observation.
        The other figure lay at their feet, in a huddled mass. Although 
his body was that of a 19 year old, his attitude was one of a whipped 
dog. His clothes were dirty and torn, and his body was in a state of 
severe food deprivation.
        Barry thought he'd like the hurt figure more than the masters.
        "We are Pjack and Pjill, come back to now to sample the delights 
of your wonderfully quaint city," the male figure, Pjack, said. 
"However, as we don't really know our way around, we decided to pick up a 
guide." Pjack smiled faintly. It wasn't a nice smile.
        Barry managed to control his body enough to gesture towards the 
figure lying at their feet. "Who's that?"
        Pjill deigned to look down at Barry's interest. "Him? Oh, he's 
our pet. Dreck, say hello to the nice insect."
        Dreck looked up, and Barry's heart immediately went out to him. 
The bruises and sores on Dreck's face made Barry want to hold and 
comfort him. "H... hello," Dreck croaked.
        "There," said Pjill, smiling sweetly. Sickeningly. "Isn't that 
        "We wish to be amused," said Pjack. "Show us the... night life."
        "But, it's early morning," replied Barry. "Nothing will be open."
        "Don't worry," said Pjill. "They will be."


It was a room in the LNHQ that belonged to an LNHer. In the general 
sense. Of being an LNHer, that is. The room contained a bed, a chest of 
drawers, a few chairs, a goldfish bowl, with goldfish, a large stuffed 
panda holding a sign saying "Has anyone got a pot of hot water?", and was 
decorated with dried flowers.
        Out of the closet stepped a man. He looked around through 
squinted eyes. People actually lived like this?
        Oh well, better get started. First, however, the man carefully 
moved the goldfish bowl onto a chair, and put it out of the way. No 
sense in incurring more trouble than usual.

Brittany, or Weirdness Girl as she preferred to be called, opened the 
door to her room into a mess. It wasn't her usual sort of mess. In fact, 
she had recently tidied her room. It had been done by accident, she had 
really only been looking for a pencil, but, nevertheless, it hadn't 
looked like this.
	She had only just helped Savannah back to her room, after they had 
gotten back from fighting some chick with wings. Being rather on the worn 
side, Brittany had decided to change her outfit for something fresh. And 
now found this.
        Her bed was on its side, with slashes in the material. Her 
drawers had been emptied, then tossed onto the floor. The frame of the 
chest of drawers had been broken into little pieces.
        In panic Brittany looked around for Binky, a cosmic being 
currently incarnated as a fish, and breathed a sigh of relief when she 
saw him sitting in his bowl, perched on a chair away from the rubble.
        The sound of splashing reached her ears, and Brittany noticed that
the door to her bathroom was open. She started in that direction, almost 
dreading what she might encounter, when a man came out.
        He was wearing dark trousers with sensible shoes. He also had a 
white shirt on, but had the sleeves rolled up. His arms were wet. 
Brittany couldn't immediate imagine why this man was here.
        Fortunately, the man wasn't wasting any time. "Please, where is 
        At least he was a polite burglar. "Where's what?" Brittany asked 
sweetly. The kind of sweetness usually followed by a round of bashing 
by, say, a large plush fish filled with rocks, or, perhaps, sitting down 
with your significant other, and showing them your baby pictures in 
        "That damned sword. I know it's around here somewhere." The man 
peered around.
        "I don't know what you're talking about," said Brittany 
carefully. "Why don't we sit down over a cup of arsenic and discuss it."
        "No, thank you. I'm trying to give it up."
        Brittany slowly manoeuvred through the room, circling around the 
man who seemed more interested in strewing the debris than her. When she 
reached the closet, she opened it carefully, but the man saw her.
        "Ah, it's in there. Of course."
        Brittany quickly opened the closet fully and reached onto the 
top shelf. "Get back," she said, grabbing what was there, and pointing 
it at the man. "Or, I'll attack you with this... note?"
        Brittany got a good look at what she was holding. It was indeed 
a note. She read it:
        "Dear Brittany,
        I was up here going through your underwear, and trying
        on your clothes when I came across this great sword. I
        have borrowed it for a while. Hope you don't mind.
                Cheesecake Eater Lad."
        Brittany crumpled the note in her hand. "Of course," she 
muttered under her breath, "you realise this means weirdness."
        She ran out of the room, ignoring the man, with far more 
important business on her mind.

The man looked upwards. "Was that really necessary?" Not receiving an 
answer, he went over to the closet, reaching upwards. He grasp a handle 
and drew out a sword named Dirmawr.
        "You and me have a little business to discuss." The man entered 
the closet, pulling it closed behind him.

Brittany reentered a few moments later, to yell at the man to get out, 
and... and noticed everything was back to normal. Her bed was back in 
position, and her clothes were back in their proper drawers, which lay 
in an unbroken frame.
        She cast a look at Binky, now back on the chest of drawers, but 
he just burbled happily.


Below her, on the second floor of the HQ, Contraption Man limped into a 
tech lab. He winced slightly at the pain of his injuries, but determined 
to ignore them so he could work on this black box he carried.
	He had found the black box in a sub-basement of the LNHQ, as well
as a heavily armoured man by the name of Flashback. The black box had been
part of his equipment he had come back to retieve, but Contraption Man had
fought him off, with the somewhat help of a newbie called Kid
SqueezerCheeze or something. Thanks to Limp-Asparagus Lad and Footnote
Lass, he had been taken to the Sick Bay in time to be saved from death. 
The kid was in Sick Bay, still shaken up after having a ceiling fall on him.
	Now, Contraption Man had left Sick Bay (still feeling slightly 
dizzy), and was investigating the device that had sparked a memory in 
him. He knew about the black box, but couldn't remember where from.
        He placed it on a bench, and studied it thoughtfully. It sparked 
a memory in his mind, but the spark wasn't bright enough to enlighten. 
As he thought, he kept his hands busy, cannibalising parts to make 
something like a large microscope. He wasn't sure what devices the thing 
contained to defend against its contents, but he knew the five prongs on 
the bottom weren't just for adornment.
        The five prongs! That was it! Five prongs were used on 
information dumps many years ago. As least, years ago as far as he was 
concerned. These things won't come about for a few years yet.
        Anyway, these information dumps were in vogue a while back as 
memory modules, a sort of electronic diary. The five prongs were a 
safety feature. Hook it up to a terminal in the wrong order, and kaboom!
	Contraption Man remembered that he had one of these things in his
room somewhere, and a decoder for it. He wouldn't be able to use it for 
this one, 'cos the code would be different.
        Contraption Man finished the device he was building, a particle 
reverser. Always useful for looking at the inside of the forbidden. What 
was on the outside would be on the inside, and what was on the inside 
would be outside. Well, for a few moments anyway. These devices were 
rather unstable. As an afterthought, Contraption Man focused a camera on 
the object to catch whatever was revealed.
        He threw the switch and watched in smugness as the box inverted, 
exposing the circuits inside. All too soon, the particle reverser 
exploded, showering Contraption Man in sparks. But, now he had a copy of 
the insides, and would be able to access the box in safety.


The niteclub was indeed open. Now. Not many things remained the way 
Pjack and Pjill didn't want them to be.
        Barry had tried to raise a protest, something along the lines of 
"There wont be anyone in there. They've all gone home." but got no 
further than "Ther-" before feeling his throat constrict painfully.
        In fact, there were people in there, either asleep or 
unconscious on the floor. Several chairs and tables were broken, 
signalling that a rather violent, albeit pointless, brawl had taken place.
        "My, my, my," Pjack commented. "What a messy establishment. 
We'll just have to tidy things up a little."
        He waved his hand and things jumped. Chairs unsplintered, and 
fused together in normal wholes. Tables righted themselves, and glasses 
jumped back onto them, the contents pouring themselves back in.
        The people on the floor also moved. They were lifted and placed 
in chairs, on the stools at the bar. Their eyes opened, and 
consciousness returned. Control over their bodies didn't though.
        Barry could see confusion, panic, and just plain terror mirrored 
from their souls.
        "Stop this," he said, partly surprised he could say anything. 
"You're hurting them."
        "No, we're not," replied Pjill. "We're enjoying ourselves. 
That's far more important, don't you think? And so much more appropriate 
for a _bar_, a place of fun, is it not?"
        "Not like this," Barry pleaded.
        "I do think we need to let him onto a secret," Pjack said to 
        "I do think you're right." She turned to the figure at her feet. 
"Dreck, darling, do teach him the lesson."
        Dreck rose pathetically, using the table to help right 
himself. With a broken look in his eyes, he made his way towards Barry.
        "No," instructed Pjill. "Choose someone else. We haven't 
finished with him."
        Dreck swerved to one side, but kept his attention on Barry. He 
stopped in front of a man, sitting in a chair, but who was nearly going 
to the toilet in his trousers.
        "Dreck, here, is a rather amusing experiment that the more 
clinical of us thought up," Pjack commented, as Dreck reached out and 
placed a finger on the man's chest.
        "Essentially, Dreck is electricity made form." Dreck's fingernail 
glowed, then his finger, his hand, and his entire arm became a blaze of 
light. Energy licked over the man's chest, and the man juddered as power 
coursed through him.
        "At times, he does have to rest. We keep him in a battery." 
Pjack smiled. "One of his very own."
        Barry's face became one of disgust as the burning smell permeated 
the air. He tried to look away, but was unable to turn his head. His 
eyes were riveted to the body of the man, now the corpse of a man.
        "You see," Pjill said. "We can do anything we like. Any_way_ we 
like. Do not presume to tell us how we may conduct ourselves. Dreck, 
darling, that's enough."
        Released, the man's remains fell to the floor with a sickening 
thump. When they were freed, there'd be a of of sick patrons.
        "Come," said Pjack, standing. "We've tired of this little game. 
I feel like..."
        "Spot the invisible bomb," said Pjill brightly.
        Pjack's eyes gleamed. "Yes. I do believe that would be next."
        Pjack and Pjill swept out of the bar, Dreck following them, and 
Barry was forced to keep up.
        Outside, Pjack was scanning the skies. Without a word, he lifted 
off the ground, and floated up through the air. Barry was surprised to 
find that he was rising as well, all four of them were.
        When they reached the tops of the surrounding towers, they 
stopped, hovering in mid-air.
        "What.. what are you people?" Barry gasped.
        "Haven't you worked that out yet?" said Pjack, sounding 
disappointed. "I had so hoped you could arise above your own stupidity. 
Oh well, I should never hope for the impossible."
        Pjill responded. "We're from the future. Well, a future. We are 
beyond the limited concept of a single timeline. We'd heard that this 
time period was so primitive when compared with what they could have 
been. Unfortunately, they do appear to be right."
        "Time travellers? Oh dear. You are in a lot of trouble."
        Pjack snorted. "Come, my dear young thing. We are beyond being 
hurt by anything in this period."
        "But, there a psycho out here. He's on the look for time 
travellers. He wants to kill them-"
        "Enough," said Pjack, waving his hand, and silencing Barry. "I 
have spotted our bomb."
        He extended a magnificently coiffured finger, pointing at a 
aeroplane as it roared through the sky, coming in for a landing at 
Net.ropolis aeroport. Pjack blinked, and the plane vanished.
        "What have you done to it?"
        "It's invisible, dear boy," said Pjack. "Light just passes right 
though it."
        "But, how will they land? The aeroport can't see them."
        "My dear boy. _They_ can't see _themselves_. As I said, light 
just passes right though them."
        "They'll crash!"
        "Yes, but who knows where? That's what makes it so fun!"


The man stood nearby in an alleyway, only keeping half an ear on the 
conversation. He was looking upwards, staring at a patch of sky that 
seemed to contain nothing.
        Absently, he hefted the sword, weighing more than just metal, 
and slid it across the palm of his hand, letting it bite and draw blood.
        The blade soaked the blood up, not letting a rivulet away.
        The man looked down at the sword. Soon, they'd be able to have a 


Barry and the time travellers landed back on the ground, and settled 
down to wait. Sooner or later, the aeroplane would hit the ground, 
somewhere, and there was nothing Barry could do to stop it. He had no 
useful powers, just to be a fan to every superhero he could find, and an 
ability to stun people by pronouncing punctuation. He had tried to stun 
Pjack and Pjill by swearing, but had ended up having to go a minute 
without a mouth. Or a nose.
        "Imagine their panic," breathed Pjack. "Their fear, their hopes 
as the search turns up nothing, their terror as they think of the plane 
crashing. All these emotions, all over one little scrap of metal and a few 
useless lives."
        "How do you you wont be wiped out?" asked Barry. "One of those 
people might be your ancestor." Perhaps he could paradox them into 
freeing the plane.
        Pjack shook his head. "Our future has already split. 
Technically, we are from another dimension, but we never let 
technicalities get in the way of a good holiday. One company," he held 
up a finger as emphasis, "one company in your history stopped 
experimenting on people, stopped creating superhumans. That never happened
in our timeline. They kept on going. And we, and Dreck here, are the 
products of those experiments. We are separate from this timeline, so we 
can do whatever we like to it."
        Pjill spoke. "I can feel the tension in the air. These people 
are pathetic. They'll never find it in time."
        "Is that part of the game? Actually finding the plane?"
        "It adds to the fun."
        "Then," said Barry, hope coming to him, "let me make a phone 
call. I'll get more people onto searching. That'll increase the game."
        Pjill clapped her hands. "Why yes. That would be nice. To have 
an actual challenge. Very well, you may call."
        Barry hurried to a nearby phone booth, digging in his pockets 
for a quarter. He picked up the phone and dialled. "Ah, Mike, Fan.Boy 
here. Put me through to the Ultimate Ninja.... No, I don't want to hear 
about your dreams of being forced to watch cheesy movies with two 
robots. Put me through to the UN... Uh, hi, sir, Fan.Boy here." Barry 
held the phone away from his ear as the shouting came through. "Yes.. 
yes, I know.. yes, I... Sir... People are dying!" Well, it was one way 
of getting his attention.


Contraption Man watched the computer run through the last few 
possibilities. He had the module interfaced with the computer, and was 
now trying to access the passworded files. Finally, the combinations 
settled, and the computer opened the files.
        They were encrypted. Of course.
        There were many programs Contraption Man knew to decode the 
files, but they all took time. He sighed as he instructed the computer 
to begin, wanting to do more than just wait.
        A beep from a nearby intercom drew his attention. He flicked the 
com channel open. "Contraption Man here."
        It was the Ultimate Ninja. "We've got more time travellers. 
These ones are very advanced mentalists, but that's not the problem."
        "Flashback is bound to go for them."
        "Yes, but they've made a plane invisible. Completely undetectable
to radar. It's somewhere above the city and could crash into anything, 
anywhere." Contraption Man drew breath. This was serious.
        "I've got Kid Kirby, Continuity Champ Junior, and Search Lass 
out looking for it. Doctor Stomper and Deductive Logic Man are trying to 
work out where it is by logic. If Errand Boy was here I could send him to 
help as well, but we can't find him."
        "What do you want me to do?" asked Contraption Man.
        "Get to where the time travellers are. Fan.Boy's with them. Try 
to get them to keep the plane from crashing. Keep an eye out for 
Flashback, and keep him away. We don't need his interference to mess 
things up."
        "On my way."


Barry tried to hop from one foot to the other, but Pjack kept him still. 
It was this waiting, how could anyone stand it? Something had to happen 
        On cue, something did. A man in a power suit came around the 
corner, the sunlight being swallowed up by his black armour. Pjack and 
Pjill took no notice of him until he backhanded Pjill across the face, 
knocking her backwards.
        The response was immediate. Dreck's upper body dissolved into 
energy tendrils that wrapped themselves around the suit, trying to short 
        The man ignored this attack, and shouted. "I am Flashback, and I 
have seen the death of all. You shall not be the cause of it." He leapt 
at Pjack.
        And made about a metre.
        Pjack's will power blasted Flashback into immobility. Although 
Flashback strained his power units, he was unable to move a muscle.
        "Naughty, naughty, don't get haute," warned Pjack.
        Pjill sat up, her hand touching her bleeding lip. "Make him 
suffer, slowly."
        "No, wait."
        Barry managed to turn his head to see the newcomer. Barry 
immediately recognised him as Contraption Man. If Flashback recognised 
him, and was sdurprised to see that Contraption Man was still alive, Barry 
was unable to tell.
        "Don't hurt him."
        "And who are you that dares give us commands?" asked Pjack slowly.
        Contraption Man finally realised what sort of people he was 
dealing with. "I.. I meant, he under my care. I'm supervising him, and 
he escaped. He's not quite all there, if you get my meaning."
        "Oh, I get your meaning," said Pjack. "But, I like my meaning 
better. Not all there, you say? Well, let's see what happens when his 
arm isn't there."
        "No," cried out Contraption Man.
        "Silence," ordered Pjack, and Contraption Man was. "Never tell 
me what to do. The more you plead, the more your friend," Pjack 
indicated Flashback, "will suffer."
        "In that case," said Contraption Man, struggling to get the 
words out. "Kill him."
        "Don't worry," advised Pjack. "I intend to."
        He turned his attention back to Flashback, when both he and 
Pjill felt something slice across the napes of their necks. They put 
their hands up, and brought them in front of their faces to see their 
hands wet. With blood. Their blood.
        "Who dares?" Pjack said hoarsely.
        "I dare."
        Pjack and Pjill turned around to see a man holding a sword 
standing in front of them. Although the sword must have gotten blood on 
it, it was gleaming clean.
        "What does your kind have to do with this?" asked Pjack.
        "With him," the man replied, indicating Flashback. "Your not 
going to stop him from doing what he has to."
        "Hah. Dreck," Pjill ordered.
        Electricity passed from Dreck to the sword, earthing itself 
through the man. He grimaced in pain, and fell to one knee, but no 
        Barry could see the sword glowing from the power that passed 
through it, and had to give grudging admiration to the man that withstood 
the pain.
        Dreck ceased, staggering slighty. Recent events had drained him 
somewhat, leaving him not a powerful as he should be.
        The man took full advantage of this. "Here," he said, "catch."
        He threw the sword, and Pjack and Pjill automatically reached 
out to grab it.
        They both touched it at the same time.


Power. He could feel their power as he stepped into them. True, it 
wasn't magic, but it was still power. Power he could take, power he 
could use.
        Dirmawr possessed Pjack and Pjill, and ravaged their souls.


Contraption Man saw the man swaying slightly, as if caught in some kind 
of backlash. However, he was now free of Pjack's control, and turned to 
take care of Flashback.
        Who was already acting. Flashback had somehow grown a heavy duty 
laser pistol from his armour, and drawn a bead on Pjack and Pjill.
        "No," screamed Contraption Man, lunging at Flashback, and 
feeling rather surprised when a large object crashed into him, knocking 
him to one side. He looked up to see the man, his head still jerking 
        "This must be done."
        Contraption Man heard one blast, then another. Two thuds. He 
didn't want to look, but knew there was someone else to also look out 
for. He took a gamble. "Get Dreck out of here," he yelled.
        The next thing he heard was "Oh ^&^!, !(&@, and #@&*."

[                               _-~-_

Barry pulled Dreck along after him, slightly hampered by Dreck's stunned 
body. Once they were away from the scene, Barry waited for Dreck to come 
        "Wha? What happened back there?" Dreck asked muzzily.
        "You're free," Barry told him. "Free now. Free to do whatever."
        "I.. I don't understand. Free?"
        "Yes," Barry insisted. "Pjack and Pjill are gone. You're free now."
        Barry sighed. "Look, what do you want to do?"
        "Rest. Need rest." Dreck staggered and fell against Barry. Barry 
held onto him, lingering his hands on Dreck's body.
        "Where do you rest?"
        "Power source. Need electricity."
        "Right, I know just the place."


        Mmmm. Mmmmmm. Wha? What?
        What's happening? Is someone there?
        Is there someone there? Please... please answer me? Is there 
anybody there?
        Please. Is someone there? Anyone? Please. I'm so alone down 
here. Please. Is there anybody there?
        Hello? Anybody? There's no light here. Is there no-one there? 
        Is it happening again? Please, not again.
                 SYSTEM--ENGAGE--SYSTEMS ON LINE-----


Contraption Man kicked the wall in disgust. He had a perfect opportunity 
to take out Flashback, and he'd let it go.
        True, the man had winded him so the man did have time to 
retrieve the sword (what was that thing, anyway?), and then threaten 
Flashback into leaving, so there wasn't much he could have done anyway. 
But, still. He should have done something.
        At least Kid Kirby had managed to get the plane done safely 
after Search Lass had found it. Doctor Stomper and Deductive Logic Man 
had worked out had to return the plane to normal.
        Contraption Man turned his attention to memory module. The 
computer had decrypted the first file. He quickly brought it up. It read:
        "This... this is my first recording. I'm not sure if this thing 
is working or not. I took it from Contrap.... Oh gods. <sounds of sobbing> 
I took this from Contraption Man's room. He won't miss it. He's.. he's 
dead. Oh gods, they're all dead..."


Barry crept through the power station, dragging Dreck with him. This was 
the only place he could think of. The Net.ropolis Power Station. The 
city's source of electricity from geothermal vents.
        He propped Dreck up against a wall.
        "Listen to me. This is where you can rest. Do you understand me?"
        As Dreck came round, he strengthened somewhat. "Yes. Yes, I can 
fell it here. Power." He felt the wall, hugging it, trying to draw the 
energy into himself.
        Barry looked on concerned.
        "Is there something that you need? Some way of accessing the 
        "Yes, yes. A socket of some kind. An access port to the 
        Barry looked around. Fortunately, there was a wall socket close. 
"Here," he said, guiding Dreck. "Will this work?"
        "Yes," said Dreck, feeling the socket. "Yes." He looked up at 
Barry. "Thank you." Dreck converted himself to pure energy, and flowed 
into the socket.
        Lights flicked on and off as Dreck settled himself in. Barry 
threw them a look worried.
        Splashpage: A momentary flicker in the lights reveals Barry's 
face. A tear runs down one cheek. He is whispering "Goodbye."

        "...Pjack fell down and broke his crown, and Pjill came tumbling 
        by Jamas Enright

NEXT ISSUE: Well, first off, Flame Wars III continues. The next exciting 
installment is in _Writer's Block Woman (and Mouse) #21_. Find out what 
secrets are held in the memory module.

Then, Fan.Boy starts a journey of self discovery, as the Ultimate Ninja 
orders him to investigate the Peril Room's final collapse.

All in FAN.BOY #12: "The Little Room of Perils"


Fan.Boy belongs to me.

Pjack and Pjill belong in the ground.

Dreck doesn't belong to the power station, but they've got him anyway.

The man wielding the sword belongs to me, but the sword belongs to 
Mistlock, as does Brittany ("Weirdness Girl!").

Contraption Man belongs to no-one, 'cos he's Public Domain.

Flashback belongs to the Flame Wars III crew (and they can have 'im :), 
and what a crazed bunch they are.

Jamas Enright
"Answers answered and questions questioned."

From: ihimaera_j at ix.wcc.govt.nz
Newsgroups: rec.arts.comics.creative
Subject: LNH: Writers Block Woman (and Mouse) #21 Flame Wars III Part Four
Date: 3 Nov 1995 02:23:31 GMT

Let's sing the anvil song!
 ___      ___                                  ______
 \  \    /  /__________________________   ___  | ___ \__   _____________  __
  \  \/\/  /|___ \_____|_____| ___| __ \ / __| | | / /| |  | __  | ___| |/ /
   \      / | |/ / | |   | | \ \  | |/ / \ \   | | \ \| |  | | | | |  |   /
    \    /  | |\ \_| |_  | | / /__| |\ \__\ \  | |_/ /| |__| |_| | |__|   \
     \/\/   |_| \_\____| |_| \____|_| \_\___/  |____/ |____|_____|____|_|\_\
      ___      ___
      \  \    /  /_________  ____________  __
       \  \/\/  /| __  |   \/   | __  |  \ | |
        \      / | | | | |\  /| | |_| |   \| |
         \    /  | |_| | | \/ | | __  | |\   |
          \/\/   |_____|_|    |_|_| |_|_| \__|                 (and Mouse)

Issue #21: Has Anybody Got The Time?
Part Four of the Flame Wars III (a trilogy in six parts. We're ahead of
Douglas Adams, we're ahead of Douglas Adams... ahem... :-)

Mouse rubbed her eyes again. She hadn't had a lot of sleep lately, what
with all of the posters and ads she'd had to put out to let people know
that there was soon going to be a job vacant. She patted her pillow and
laid her head upon it. Soon she'd be back home in Net.Zealand. Former
home to large quantities of green kiwis and current home to her father.
But there was still so much to do, and very little time in which to do
it. And very little explanation of the little time that she didn't have
to not get things done even though...
        "You _what_?" said Mouse, sitting up abruptly.
        Sorry, getting a bit confused. And besides, you looked like you
were about to start angsting.
        "Gods. If I start angsting who knows what could happen! The
universe might end. And it would be my fault, mine! All my fault. I'd
never intended to hurt anybody, I didn't mean it!" Mouse clutched
melodramatically at her heart and placed her other hand against her
forehead, "Rhett! Rhett! Whatever shall ah do? Where-ever shall ah go?"
she proclaimed in an over-exagerated accent. Then she got the giggles.


In the future, another person was not having a good day. Giggles weren't
involved. Neither was angsting really, but never mind. Serendipity "Pity"
Jones slammed on the accelerator of his Lada 5000 and hoped to hell that
Writers Block Woman and Mouse would be in.


Having overcome her giggles and (very) temporary angst outbreak, Mouse
had headed off to the local greasepit in search of food. Correction, in
search of edible... correction, in search of plastic and grease. After
she'd 'eaten' a MacClassic, she walked out of the brightly lit building,
and headed for home. She didn't notice the menacing figure that others
have come to call Flashback watching her from the shadows. In a movie,
this would have been called 'stupid', with half the audience yelling out
"Look out behind you! Turn around you stupid bint!" or other phrases to
this same effect. Here, it's called normality. Mostly because if you
called Mouse a stupid bint she'd probably break your arm. She'd feel very
sorry about it _afterwards_ of course. Well, maybe. Then again, maybe not.
However, the whole point was rendered moot when Mouse turned around and
noticed Flashback watching her.
        "Gee, a large, hulking, menacing and possibly insane black-armoured guy
in the shadows. If I were a cheerleader I'd stand here and scream, but
since I'm not..."
        She sprinted off down the street. When she was at the far end,
she stopped. Then she turned around and waved at Flashback.
        "Hi," she called, "Just checking, but you wouldn't by any chance
happen to be a new member of the LNH would you?"
        "I am Flashback!" the figure replied, "I have come to save you
from the future, all time travellers must die! You, you have the stench
of a time traveller about you." He moved forward menacingly.
        "I'll take that as a no." said Mouse, and started running.

Mouse sprinted back to LNHHQ and ran into the cafeteria, "Hey everybody,
there's a guy in a suit of armour running round the LNH out to kill time
travellers, anybody wanna stop him? Oh great."
        She stopped and put her hands on her hips, for the first time
ever the whole cafeteria was deserted (well, for the first time not
counting all those times the people had run away from the food during
that time when Cheesecake Eater Lad had been away). [See the various
Culinary Disasters in LNH Comics Presents #26-31.]
        Mouse cocked her head, listening for Flashback. She could hear
heavy sounding footsteps pounding down the corridor towards the
cafeteria. Sighing, she ran into the kitchen and out the back door, into
another corridor.


Flashback paused in the cafeteria, according to the afterimages his heat
sensors were picking up, the female had paused here before running out
the back door.


"Hey, Ultimate Ninja! Heeeeey!" Mouse zoomed down another corridor
(there's a lot of them in this building) and ran to UN's door. She banged
on it once, "Yo! Ninj! Open up okay? There's this big..." her voice
trailed off. Nobody was in. There was a note on the door, it read: "Have
gone in search of big hulking armoured killer of time travellers at large
in Net.ropolis. Back in UN #16. Ultimate Ninja."
        "Dammit, he's _never_ in." grumbled Mouse. Suddenly a
recollection tickled her brain. She pushed the intercom button beside the
door, "Hallo? Anybody there?"
        "Hi, Ultimate Ninja's reception, can I help you?" a male voice
        "Yes, do you know where I can find Ultimate Ninja?"
        "I'm sorry, he's out right now and he didn't take his beeper with
him. Can I take a message?"
        "Yes, it's about that armoured killer of time travellers that he
was looking for."
        "Uh huh, just wait a moment while I find a piece of paper and a
pen. Sally? Have you got a pencil?"
        "Ta. Right now, the message?"
        Mouse dictated; "Dear UN, found that armoured guy, or to be more
precise, he found me. To be even more precise, he is currently chasing me
around the HQ, wanting to know where the timetraveller I know is. DO
SOMETHING! Love and kisses, Mouse. PS. NOW!"
        "Okay, I got it. I'll pass it on as soon as he gets in." the
voice cut out.
        Mouse looked up as Flashback lumbered round the corridor. She
sighed, and started running again.

Flashback watched in irritation as Mouse ran away again, she was
certainly very fast. He checked the corridor, and pressed the intercom
        "Hallo, Ultimate Ninja's office, can I help you?" sang a voice.
        "Where is the time traveller?"
        "Uh, hang on a minute, Sally?"
        "Not our department, try reception."
        Flashback decided not to bother, and headed down the corridor.


Pity drove faster. He checked his rear-view mirror for pursuit, then
speeded up some more.


Writers Block Woman hummed happily to herself as she wandered over to
LNHHQ. She was mentally planning her evening ensemble. She'd reserved a
table at the swankiest, most expensive restaraunt in Net.ropolis for
dinner that night to cheer Mouse up. Mouse had been a little down lately,
what with having to return to Net.Zealand, and WBW had decided that a
nice night out might cheer her up a little and prevent her from angsting.
So it was with some pleasure that she spotted Mouse sprinting hell for
leather out of the HQ.
        "Mouse baby! I didn't think you'd missed me that much!" she
        Mouse heard someone vaguely call her name, but she was too busy
running. She'd been sprinting round LNH corridors for half an hour now,
trying to find somebody to stop the big metal guy from following her, but
was anybody in? Nooooooooo...
        Writers Block Woman watched in confusion as Mouse sprinted past
her. "Mouse honey, I'm over here." she called. She turned to watch her
daughter run past. So she didn't see Flashback heading towards her at
full tilt...
        Writers Block Woman flew through the air, not of her own accord.
About a mile up she managed to gain control of herself and considered her
        one) Mouse had been running away from something behind her.
        two) Something behind Mouse had slammed into WBW, knocking her
into the sky.
        three) The hat she'd just bought had gotten squashed.
Writers Block Woman got mad.


Mouse kept running. Flashback had managed to gain on her but had been
slowed down when he ran into something. She wasn't sure what it had been
but she was fairly sure that it had been painful. Mentally she ran
through her list of acquaintances. She was fairly sure that she knew
which timetraveller Flashback was after, and was faintly miffed that he
thought _she'd_ know where he was. Honestly, it wasn't as if she'd seen
him lately, what did Flashback expect her to do? Lead him to Pity?
        Mouse charged across the road, barely glancing at the traffic.
Which was unfortunate as a Lada screeched round the corner at exactly
that moment. Both the driver and Mouse tried to stop, and so instead of
being injured, Mouse merely found herself sprawled across the hood of
Pity's car.
        She took a deep breath.
        Behind the wheel Pity cringed.
        "Er sorry." said Pity, getting out of the car and helping Mouse
off, "Who's Flashback?"
        "TIME TRAVELLER! YOU DIE!" Flashback charged out at them.
        "Oh." Pity said
        He watched as the armoured figure loomed before him. It raised
one arm, intent on crushing Pity's body into a small marshmallowy mess on
the ground, when...
        Writers Block Woman dived upon the armoured killer, "Now it is time
for my revenge!" In her hand was a hat, it looked a bit squished. WBW
landed in front of Flashback,
        "You see this hat?" she demanded, flourishing it. Flashback
looked a bit confusedly at the hat.
        "This was a _brand_ _new_ hat. I just bought it. It cost me a lot
of money. It was going to be a special lucky hat because I paid for it
with money I won in my first game of pool ever. [See the latest issue of
the Kiwi Kommandoes for brief details of the game.] But now it can't _be_
that because _you_ squashed it. What have you got to say for yourself?"
        "Ummmm... I'm sorry?" Flashback guessed.
        "Not yet you aren't." retorted WBW, and punched him in the nose.
        *KLANG* "Yeouch!" WBW grabbed her fist and hopped up and down,
"God... damn... body... armour... ow ow ow ow ow..."
        Flashback watched a bit confusedly. Then he shrugged, and aimed
his gun at Pity... who was no longer there. Flashback oriented himself
and turned to see Mouse sprinting back into LNHHQ, dragging Pity with
her. He sighed and jogged off after them.
        "Hey! Come back here! I'll bite your ankles!" screamed WBW after


"Where are we going?" gasped Pity.
        "Who cares? Anywhere, as long as it's away from Flashback." Mouse
replied, "You know, you need to get out of that car sometime and do some
        Pity just gasped.
        As they pelted hell for leather down a corridor, they suddenly
heard the sound of furious cursing ahead.
        "Finally," Mouse said, "Somebody's actually _in_." She dragged
Pity into the room and slammed the door behind them. The man in the room
looked up,
        "Hallo?" he said, obviously not recognising them.
        "Er hi," said Mouse, who didn't recognise him either, "I'm Mouse,
and this is Pity. I'm Writers Block Woman's sidekick and he's a time
traveller from an alternate future and..."
        "A time traveller! You've got to get him out of here, there's a
man roaming Net.ropolis killing time travellers!" the man interrupted.
        "Big guy? Armoured?" asked Mouse.
        "How many time traveller killers do you have in this city?" asked Pity.
        "That's him," said the man, "I'm Contraption Man. I've been
trying to find a way to stop him, but so far no luck. I've just decrypted
the opening sequence for this box," Contraption Man showed the duo a
black box, "I think it might tell us something about him."
        "Great, turn it on." said Mouse.
        Contraption Man fiddled with a few buttons and the trio peered at
the computer screen as words swam into view:

        "They're all gone, everything is gone. I can't believe it myself,
and I was there to witness it. The LNHHQ, home to the greatest heros in
the world... destroyed, and all within it killed. If only I could have
done something, had a useful power, anything. But then, if I'd had a
useful power I would have been killed as well.
        It was an important day. October 10th, 1995."
        "Hang on a second," said Contraption Man, "That's _today_!"
        The screen continued: "It... was going to be the best day of my life.
Ha! The dreams of youth. October 10th, the day, I applied for acceptance
into the Legion of Net. Heros. And I was turned down.
        I was told that my powers were inadequate to the task of being a
Legionairre. I suppose I should explain... I have the ability to touch a
person, and in doing so, recall some of their memories. But they turned
me down because I was a minor without huge powers to compensate for that."
        "They refused him entry on those grounds?" asked Mouse
incredulously, "Are we talking about the same Legion that let
Easily-Discovered Man Lite join?"
        The writing continued to scroll up the screen:
        "Disheartened, I left. It was mid-afternoon, the birds were
singing, the sky was blue. October 10th, the date was ashes in my mouth,
disappointment tinged everything a bitter grey.
        October 10th will remain a date emblazoned in the minds of every
citizen in the world, because on that same day, a time traveller appeared
and destroyed the LNHHQ and everybody in it... OPIUGSAVDP: LMpwikgmp
[ouih -puwsv..." The screen flickered and went blank.
        "What happens next?" asked Pity.
        "You die." came a voice from behind them.
        Everyone turned around veeeeeery slowly. Flashback was standing
there, a gun pointed directly at Pity.
        "Ahem," said Mouse, "This may not be the best time to mention it,
but are you aware that your shoelaces are untied?"
        Time slowed to a crawl as the two heros, one time traveller, and
Flashback pondered the scenario set before them. The strands of
probability twisted, acraphobe-flavoured strawberry fields and jam, green
eggs and ham, the laws of science, sensibility and nature fought to
maintain the precious laws of reality against the full power of weirdness
and absurdity.
        But this is Writers Block Woman and Mouse, so all probabilities,
logicalities and bets are off. Flashback looked down at his shoes.
        Mouse and Pity sprinted for it with everything they had while
Contraption Man laid down covering fire with a weapon he'd put together
during the slow-mo break from a stapler-gun and a laser dart.
        Mouse and Pity headed for the end of a corridor, behind them they
could hear Flashback staggering to his feet and beginning to come after
them. At the end of the corridor was an elevator.
        "You realise," gasped Pity, "That if we try to use the elevator
the doors will close just as he arrives there and then he'll jump down on
top of it and try to punch his way in from above."
        "Uh huh." replied Mouse. They were clearly of one mind about
this. Not even bothering to slow down they got to the end of the corridor
and jumped through the window next to the elevator. There was a
shattering of glass as they flew out into the air.
        Fortunately for them, they were only on the first floor.
        Landing, Mouse recovered first, and dragged Pity to his feet,
"Only one place we can hide!" she gasped. "Quick, follow me!"
        Flashback jumped through the window, knocked slightly off-balance
by the parting shots fired by Contraption Man. Landing he looked around
for the running duo. And was confronted by the running millions. Unable
to believe what his senses were telling him, he looked at a passing
banner. It read: "The Conspiracy Corporation Sponsors and Supports the 15th
Annual Net.ropolis Marathon". If Flashback had been one iota less
obsessed, he would have cried. As it was, he started running.
        Mouse and Pity had ducked deep into a group of joggers, who
weren't paying that much attention to them as they were deeply involved
in listening to their walkmans.
        "Think we lost him?" asked Pity.
        "We should be so lucky." replied Mouse, "Now shut up and keep
        "But what are we going to do?" Pity wailed.
        "Look, there's an alleyway further along. We'll duck up it, and
join the runners who are behind this group. That'll take as back in front
of LNHHQ. Then you can get back in your car and stay away till we catch
this guy."
        "But I need your help."
        "Saving you from a homicidal maniac isn't helping you?"
        "No, other stuff..." Pity gasped for air, and watched resentfully
as he was overtaken by a jogging piece of cloth.
        "Quick, up the alley." they scooted up the alley and joined
another bunch of runners. Soon they were back at Pity's car. Mouse shoved
him in and slammed the door.
        "Now, get out of here and don't come back for a while. We need to
make sure he's gone. You can tell us what the problem is when you get back."
        Pity was too tired to reply. He merely started his car and drove
off, narrowly avoiding some solitary joggers. Mouse watched as his car
accelerated and shot off into time. Then she slumped against a lampost.
        Waitaminute, she thought, there isn't a lampost here.
        She looked up. Flashback's visored face stared deeply into hers.
        "Where... is... the... time-traveller...?" he asked menacingly.
        Mouse squinted at him. "Ummmmm..."
        "Evil fiend! Doer of wrongs! Wronger of rights! Squisher of hats!
Feel the awesome might of... WRITERS BLOCK WOMAN!"
        "Would you excuse me? That's my cue." said Mouse smilingly as she
dodged away from Flashback. Flashback looked up to see an angel of
vengeance heading towards him at full speed. Writers Block Woman stopped
centimetres from him, then she smiled, and threw a bucket of water over
        Flashback watched in deep confusion as the water dripped off his
        "I'm afraid to ask," sighed Mouse, "Mum, why did you do that?"
        "Ha! Well if I'd thrown jello, it would have been silly." said
Writers Block Woman.
        Mouse pondered this, "You've been waiting in the pub for us to
get back haven't you?" WBW hung her head. "I only had _one_ pint."
        "Of what?"
        "Peach schnapps."
        Mouse shuddered. Flashback loaded a weapon. WBW and Mouse looked
at each other.
        Then they ran off again.
        Flashback watched them go. Then he looked at where the time
traveller had been. Then he considered the events of the past episode.
Then he straightened, and loaded his gun with a menacing k-chlak...
        "I will find _another_ time traveller to kill!" he declared, and
stomped off in the direction of the Flame Wars III part Five. Proving
once and for all, that he's _not_ as dumb as he looks. WBW and Mouse
watched him leave from around the corner of the building.
        "Peach schnapps in a pint glass huh," said Mouse, "Which pub was it?"

The End.

FLAME WARS III continues... the end is in sight, but is it a happy one?
Find out in the penultimate fifth part of The Flame Wars III, appearing
in Misfits #13, where you'll see whose lucky number it is.

Next Issue:
The Audition for a Sidekick Commences. If you haven't put in your
application to audition then now is the time to do it! Mouse is leaving,
and someone has to look after WBW. Who will it be? Part One of Two.


Flame Wars III is all Drizzt's fault. Blame him.

Writers Block Woman, Mouse, and Pity belong to me. I have them on 20 year

Contraption Man and Flashback are not mine but are registered trademarks.
I'm just not sure who for.

Sally and the other guy are Ultimate Ninja's public domain reception
service. Created by Ian Porell.

Anyone else who may or may not have popped up in this episode did so of
their own volition and are in no way connected to my collection of
blackmail photographs.

All rights reserved except the right of way which is waived in any story
Pity appears in.

Hair by Design. Writers Block Woman's costume was made by Gary Nestling
of Body Work and Armour. Mouse's clothes are from Model's Own. Everyone
else bought their clothes at non-designer stores and don't even own
Calvin Klein underwear.


Next Week: FLAME WARS III the Conclusion!!

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

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