LNH: Classic LNH Adventures #98: FLAME WARS IV Part Five
Arthur Spitzer
arspitzer2 at gmail.com
Sun Mar 17 14:16:03 PDT 2019
In this weeks reposting of stuff you can find in the eyrie archive
https://archives.eyrie.org/racc/lnh/
we have the fifth section of FLAME WARS IV!
FLAME WARS IV #3 by Saxon Brenton and Jamie Rosen gives us some more
havoc from OMAR. Can Constipated Man and Toilet Humor Man withstand
the permission to be killed that their creator gave to Saxon? Will
Saxon show Constipated Man and Toilet Humor Man some mercy? What
will be the ultimate fate of Constipated Man and Toilet Humor Man?
Find out it...
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|____| \__] \__ | |_| \__/ |_|\_\
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|_| OF NET.HEROES
ADVENTURES #98
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FLAME WARS IV Part Five
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From: Saxon Brenton <saxon.brenton at uts.edu.au>
Subject: [LNH] Flame Wars 4 #3
Newsgroups: rec.arts.comics.creative,alt.comics.lnh
Date: 10 Sep 2002 06:59:58 -0000
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#3
by Jamie Rosen and Saxon Brenton
in consultation with Martin Phipps
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Part 3: The Heart Of Darkness
The day didn't seem nearly as nice as it had when they were bringing
Clarabelle to the hospital. [_The Continuing Misadventures of Miss
Translation_ #10 -- Ed.] Storm clouds had begun to gather overhead, and
it didn't take much effort to notice that they were heaviest closest to
LNHHQ. A peel of thunder reverberated off of the buildings, sending a
chill down the Blue Wave's spine. He knew this sort weather. It was the
same sort as had swept over his own universe's Net.ropolis just before
the storyline that ripped him from his proper world. Foreshadowing
weather.
"It's cold, isn't it?" Starts-Arguments-For-No-Apparent-Reason Kid
said, mistaking his partner's foreboding for a shiver. He hugged himself
through his leather jacket.
Blue Wave nodded. "A bad cold," he said.
+-+=+-+=+-+
The lobby was hardly better than the world outside. Everything was
in disarray -- pens had been strewn haphazardly about the room, and
papers were scattered everywhere. Some were still drifting slowly to the
ground.
"Is it Tuesday already?" SAFNAR Kid asked, but the joke had no
conviction behind it.
Blue Wave noticed a pair of feet sticking out from under the
seemingly abandoned receptionist's desk, and walked over to see whose
they were. He found Fred the receptionist huddled in a ball. The
receptionist looked up, and his eyes widened when he saw the Net.Hero.
"Please don't hurt me!" he wailed, burying his head in his arms once more.
"Fred?" Blue Wave knelt down beside the cowering receptionist.
"Fred, I know I haven't been here long, but it's me, Blue Wave." He put
a hand on Fred's shoulder, and the other man flinched but didn't move.
"What's wrong?"
"D-d-don't hurt m-m-me, please!" Suddenly, Fred let out a scream
and leapt out from under the desk and over Blue Wave in one fluid motion.
Not bothering to look back, he ran full speed from the building, still
screaming.
"It usually takes a couple of weeks for that to happen," SAFNAR Kid
said.
Blue Wave sank to the ground, lost in thought. What could have had
such a deleterious effect on the mind of an LNH receptionist? Well, many
things, he supposed. He'd already seen enough during his time with the
LNH to drive any number of receptionists crazy (provided said number
weren't *too* large), and he had only been here briefly.
But no... something about the weather outside made it impossible for
him to dismiss this as just the inevitable consequence of having to man
the reception desk for the Legion. Besides, there had been that call
Starts-Arguments-For-No-Apparent-Reason Kid had received from Kid Recap.
Something big was supposed to be going down.
"Something big *is* going down," Kid Recap said, standing in the
doorway.
Blue Wave blinked. "How did you know--?"
"It's what I do." He nodded to SAFNAR Kid, who flipped him off. "You
two come with me, and I'll fill you in on what's been going on so far."
+-+=+-+=+-+
Cheesecake-Eater Lad was making himself busy in the kitchen,
preparing some high energy cheesecake meals for the assembled net.heroes
who were either coming back from being On Patrol or about to go on duty
with the same. He was keeping busy. Perhaps too busy.
Out of all the people present in the cafeteria, it was Fuzzy who
noticed that Cheesecake-Eater Lad was working hard, with quiet deter-
mination, and being really, really *intense* about what he was doing.
"Hello Cheesecake-Eater Lad," she said.
"Hi Fuzzy. What'll you have?"
"The masaman curry cheesecake sounds good."
"Sure thing."
"Listen CEL, how are you holding up?" the Indeterminate Avenger
asked.
The was a pause. Fuzzy was willing to wager good money that
Cheesecake-Eater Lad wasn't searching himself to find his feelings, but
was trying to think of a way to describe how he felt that was civil.
"I'm... feeling very irritated just at the moment," he said at last.
"Not that that's a big surprise or anything," he added with irony. "I
keep thinking about aLLiterative Lass, and what that little green creep
did to her... well, has been doing to the whole planet... Not to mention
trying to blow up Net.ropolis to get rid of the Legion..."
The events of last issue loomed large in the minds of all of the
net.heroes. OMAR- the One Man Abusive Reaction - had come to the
Looniearth and proceeded to kindle hatred among the population,
transforming many of them into horrible little clones of himself. This
included many of the Legion of Net.Heroes, Cheesecake-Eater Lad's wife
aLLiterative Lass among them. OMAR had been beaten off in a way that was
particularly embarrassing to him, and in retaliation had almost
immediately tried to destroy the city with an ersatz nuclear effect.
"Yeah, but when Retcon Lad and Theory Man unHappened that nuclear
attack, they stripped him of his ability to try that trick ever again.
Each time we beat him, both his power and his reputation are belittled."
"Death by a thousand cuts," he observed.
"Something like that. In the end I expect it'll be something like
in that movie where the villain is reduced to a barely effective threat
who's too stupid to give up and retreat even though he's doomed."
"What, in 'Terminator'?"
"Actually I was thinking of the Black Knight in 'Monty Python And
The Holy Grail'."
"Ha!" Cheesecake-Eater Lad chuckled. "Yes, that *is* a better
comparison."
Fuzzy made a wry grin (though it couldn't be seen due to her
ambiguity field), then said, "Listen, CEL, I know that this is hard, but
it's important to remember to keep our motives pure. This alien dweeb
will be wanting us to get angry, simply because that's how he turns
people into his minions. It's going to be important to try and walk the
narrow line between righteous indignation and blind rage." She touched
him fondly on the arm. "Trust the words of someone who's been there."
Cheesecake-Eater Lad had to work hard to suppress a grimace at that.
For a very long time Fuzzy had been a very angry individual, and there
were a number of people wondering why she hadn't succumbed to becoming a
troll clone during the current crisis along with people like Frothing-At-
The-Mouth Lad or Kid-Quickly-Irritated-By-Others. It was the type of
scuttlebutt he heard a lot of working in the cafeteria, and now it set
him wondering whether there was wisdom in her words.
+-+=+-+=+-+
"Where's the Normalizer?" Miss Translation asked as Blue Wave, Kid
Recap, and Starts-Arguments-For-No-Apparent-Reason Kid entered the
cafeteria.
"The hospital," SAFNAR Kid said, dropping into one of the free
chairs. Most of the mess from the food fight earlier in the day had been
cleaned up, but somehow he still managed to sit in a small puddle of
ketchup and horseradish sauce.
"The hospital?" Sleeps-With-Anything-Alive Girl asked. "What
happened?"
Blue Wave took a seat next to her. "We ran into some, uh, I believe
they're called trolls?" He glanced at Kid Recap, who nodded. "While we
were out grocery shopping. He managed to turn them back into normal, but
then he passed out."
By happenstance they had found a miraculously empty table in one
corner, where they could have a semblance of privacy. "Doesn't look good,
huh?" SAFNAR Kid said, putting his feet up.
"Ultimate Ninja sent us down here to keep us out of the way," SWAA
Girl explained. "He said he didn't want any of us screwing up and getting
in his way."
Kid Recap shook his head. "It'll be hard to tell if OMAR starts to
have any effect on him."
"Time Waster Lad?" Blue Wave asked.
"He had a conference with Cheesecake Eater Lad and UN a while ago,
just before we got sent down," Kid Recap explained. "He stayed behind."
"So why are you down here instead?"
Kid Recap shrugged. "Probably because Time Waster Lad's proved
himself useful in this sort of thing before," he offered. "Remember the
Anti-Drizzt?"
Miss Translation and Blue Wave stared at him blankly, while Sleeps-
With-Anything-Alive Girl and Starts-Arguments-For-No-Apparent-Reason Kid
shook their heads.
Kid Recap sighed. "I guess it was before your time." He took a deep
breath and began to explain things to them. At least this would give them
a way to pass the time.
+-+=+-+=+-+
Above Net.ropolis some Legionnaires were On Patrol. An LNH
flight.thingee was slowly crisscrossing the suburbs to the south of the
city, doing a high definition scan to try and find traces of net.god of
trolling. Lenny the squirrel was piloting (he was a flying squirrel,
after all) while Chinese Guy, the trident-wielding Mygag, and Limp-
Asparagus Lad were operating the scanning equipment and forwarding the
data back to the LNHHQ.
It was necessary but tedious business. Of the four of them, only
Limp-Asparagus Lad - and to a lesser extent Lenny - had the inclination
to keep concentrating on this type of activity for hours on end.
"You know Chinese Guy," said Mygag. "You're up and about quickly
for someone who was pounded by rubble last issue."
"Yup," Chinese Guy replied. "Rapidly healing net.hero physiology,
plus the fact that the medicos were kind of busy looking for a cure for
the troll plague. So they zapped me with that retro Silver Age magenta
healing ray of theirs, then had me sign the voucher and kicked me out
the door."
Mygag nodded. Genre conventions could be really useful like that.
Suddenly something caught his attention: a faint radio signal from
further outside of town. He adjusted the equipment he was using to try
and boost the signal.
A hiss of staticky noise washed into the cabin. " ...ave found
OMA... ...der attack. Repeat: we have fou... ...Baxter. We are under
attack! Send... "
Mygag frowned as the signal vanished. "It seems to have been cut off."
"I managed to get a direction," said Chinese Guy. "It's off to the
south west from here."
"There's a military base called Fort Baxter in that direction,"
indicated Limp-Asparagus Lad.
"That sounds like it then," agreed Mygag. "But... he's hiding
*outside* of town? Most villains go to ground and set up a base in the
abandoned warehouse distract!"
"We'll find out why when we get there," said Lenny. The others
nodded.
Mygag said. "I'll forward the call to the LNHHQ and tell them that
we're responding."
"Okay then. I'll activate the heavy stealth mode, and we'll move
in," said Lenny.
+-+=+-+=+-+
"Hello," said Dr Bad-Bed-Side-Manner as he walked up to a particular
table of net.heroes in the cafeteria.
"Good day, Doctor," said Blue Wave.
True to form, the doctor got straight to the point with a bluntness
that was excruciating. "I've heard that one of your team-mates was
successful in reversing the troll creation process. We'd like to have a
look at him down in sick bay. He may hold the key to saving the lives of
everyone who's been infected, and Organic Lass is pretty sure we can
discover how without vivisecting him."
"You see?" said Starts-Arguments-For-No-Apparent-Reason Kid. "You
*see*? I told you that Dr Bad-Bedside-Manner would want to start poking
at the Normalizer."
+-+=+-+=+-+
Meanwhile, at Fort Baxter, OMAR had caught some net.heroes and was
-playing- with them.
Net.heroes come in all types, including all types of power levels.
Not everybody can be a Kid Kirby, a Leviathan Lass, or a Deja Dude - but
fortunately not everybody has to be.
However, some poor schmucks don't even have the competence of Sister-
State-The-Obvious or Insomnia Lad to balance out their otherwise street-
level superpowers. This was why Toilet Humor Man and Constipated Man were
currently in such deep trouble.
They had been sent off On Patrol to well outside the city limits
to, basically, keep them from any chance of actually finding OMAR. As
noted, most of the net.heroes were genuinely expecting the little green
horror to be holed up somewhere inside the city limits. True, this was
genre conventions at work - but if they had been asked the net.heroes
could have plausibly pointed out that OMAR was more likely to stay close
to a large number of people who he could then corrupt and feed off,
vampire like, in order to regain his strength after his previous battles
with the Legion.
So these LHNers had been sent away, and by accident had wandered
right into the midst of OMAR's new heart of darkness.
+-+=+-+=+-+
The flight.thingee landed in a deserted lawn and the four LNHers
got out.
"Still no one about," commented Chinese Guy, looking around.
Limp-Asparagus Lad was taking readings with a hand held scann.
thingee. "I'm receiving weak signals from the .comm units in Constipated
Man and Toilet Humor Man's Legion insignia, in that direction," he
exposited. "There are garbled life form readings, as well."
"Okay then," mused Chinese Guy. "There's no telling how many of
the base personnel are about to see us once we leave the range of the
flight.thingee's holographic stealth field. Let's sneak over there and
take a look around..."
"No," disagreed Mygag flatly. "We have no idea what OMAR might be
doing to them, and every second we waste could be the death of them."
The man in black and gold armour sprinted off towards the building that
Limp-Asparagus Lad had indicated.
"Is he always this impulsive?" asked Chinese Guy.
"No more so than anyone else who dresses up in tight fitting
costumes and fights crime for a living," answered L-ALad straight
faced. "Why?"
Chinese Guy gave Limp-Asparagus Lad a long stare. "Nothing
important, I guess. Come on, we'd better get after him," he said and
began to jog after Mygag.
They got halfway to the building when all of the trollified troops
who had been lurking around the lawn opened fire on them.
+-+=+-+=+-+
Ahead of them and well beyond the sound of the machine gun fire,
Mygag was zeroing in on his targets. Truth be known he was somewhat
impulsive, but this was more in the way of his burning desire to see
justice done (and although he wasn't fully aware of it, a desperate need
to prove to himself that he was not weak).
Mygag knew that he was a fictional character, and was also aware
that in the small handful of times that he had made appearances his
depiction had been... well, let's call it 'inconsistent' and leave the
expletives for the villain, okay? It wasn't so much that he had died at
least once already (twice if you counted _Hell's Titans_) and been
resurrected without explanation. It wasn't even that he had two mutually
contradictory origins. (Family killed by litterbugs. Feh.)
What really got at Mygag was the notion, the outright *slander*,
that even in the twisted _Hell's Titans_ story arc he could have been so
debased as to throw his lot in with the Cabbage Wielding Angel of Death.
No. Forget it homeboy, that sort of thing wasn't *ever* going to happen.
And now here was the god-given opportunity of facing off against
OMAR - a villain whose whole modus operandi was corrupting people. You
can see where this is heading, can't you?
Even though he wasn't fully aware of it, Mygag had a powerful
emotional Need to confront this bad guy and prove to himself that he
had what it took to be a superhero. It was for this reason that he had
run off ahead of the others to play the hotshot. It was for this reason
that he had divided his team's forces.
Meanwhile, on a conscious level, Mygag simply saw a murdering alien
monster who needed to be eviscerated with his flaming trident. OMAR
needed to be dealt with right away, while he was still weak.
Mygag paused when he reached a door beyond which he could here
OMAR's voice. He glanced in through the small window set in the door,
and saw OMAR playing with Constipated Man and Toilet Humor Man.
He was playing Trivial Pursuit.
The two captured Legionnaires where kneeling on the floor with their
arms bound behind their backs, and two trollified guard pointing guns at
the back of their heads. OMAR was reading questions from cards out of the
Trivial Pursuit box. The rules of the game were quite simple: the first
of them to get an answer wrong would be shot through the head.
Mygag decided to go for the direct approach. He smashed through the
door and blasted one of the troll guards with a gout of flame from his
trident. Predictably, the other trollified soldier swung his gun around
and fired at Mygag, leaving his prisoners unattended as his bullets
bounced harmlessly off Mygag's armour. Toilet Humor Man, true to the
nature of his powers, quickly twisted around and distracted the soldier
with a most embarrassing poke up the butt with his nose. "Pee-yu!"
quipped Toilet Humor Man, "Don't you *ever* change your underwear?"
The soldier snarled and was about to smack THM in the temple with
his gun when Mygag threw his flaming trident and impaled the troll clone.
OMAR had been watching all of this with amusement and now sauntered
over. Constipated Man and Toilet Humor Man both struggled to their feet
to help Mygag's attack, but the net.god of trolling casually banged their
heads together as he walked past, stunning them both. OMAR was *far* more
interested in what he could feel in Mygag's mind.
Grimly Mygag held out he arm and recalled his trident, causing it
to fly back to its master. "DIE Monster!!!" cried Mygag, and launched
himself at his twisted green opponent.
OMAR simply swatted him aside and sent him smashing into a wall.
"You puss-bucket," OMAR sneered without any particular acr.omar.ny. In
fact, he was almost jovial. He was in a much better mood now that he had
provoked a violent and bloody coupe to take over Fort Baxter (killing
almost a third its personnel in the process) and had then been able to
spend a half hour or so drinking in the fear of his captured net.heroes.
Now he was rummaging around inside Mygag's mind.
Oh yes. Mygag's mind. Mygag was one of those annoying people who
had a single-minded willpower that - under the right circumstances - made
him all but immune to succumbing to OMAR's powers. 'All but' was the
important qualifier here. Underneath Mygag's burning self-righteousness
OMAR could feel a core of self-loathing that was... interesting. He
decided that it would be worth his effort to simply crush the net.heroe's
will, just to rub Mygag's face in the fact that he could.
Mygag began to pick himself up off the floor for another attack, and
then felt himself fall to his knees. There was... something in his head.
And it was icky.
The Legionnaire fought hard. He did quite well, all things
considered. OMAR found the battle for mental control going on for longer
than he had expected and was irritatedly considering just killing the
net.hero outright when he felt a weakness and struck at it.
Mygag shuddered, both physically and mentally. It was not the slimy
presence of OMAR in his mind that was the problem. Nor was it even the
horrible mental image that OMAR's mental presence manifested itself as: a
naked OMAR, green and warty and shrivelled, rubbing itself against the
chained and equally naked Mygag, and licking lasciviously at Mygag's
armpit.
What was worse - far, far worse by many orders of magnitude - was
Mygag's self-realisation that what OMAR offered was *power*; and that
part of himself, that part which had given itself over into the servitude
of the Cabbage Wielder, wanted OMAR and the power very, very much.
Mygag recoiled in loathing from this, and in that split instant of
weakness he was lost. OMAR pounced and locked Mygag's sense of self away
in a little prison away at the back of the net.hero's mind - from where
he could see but not interfere.
OMAR didn't even bother to turn him into a troll. Sometimes it was
more fun to mind control people and force them to do things, all while
they're watching and screaming from the inside of their heads.
"Get up, &$@# you," ordered OMAR. Mygag stood up. OMAR looked about
thoughtfully, then glanced at the still unconscious form of Constipated
Man and the dazed Toilet Humor Man. "Kill him," OMAR ordered, pointing at
Constipated Man.
Now, Constipated Man was a fat and rather whiny voiced net.hero who
was forever drinking prune juice but had problems doing his ablutions in
the lavatory. For his part Toilet Humor Man was not only still seeing
spots but was also bleeding from the forehead - however his powers to
sense and use toilet humor were working fine. He could see the shape of
the future, and it had methane explosions in it. "No... don't," he
managed to mumble. "Fight it. You've got to fight it..."
"Mygag! No, stop!" called out Chinese Guy from the door. The
machine gun fire attacks outside hadn't been any particular threat to
either himself or Limp-Asparagus Lad. L-ALad had simply relaxed his
muscle tension to go limp, and let the bullets hit him and then fall to
the ground, their kinetic energy absorbed and dissipated. And frankly,
the day that CGuy couldn't dodge gun fire was the day he stopped listing
his superpowers as 'cinematic martial arts'. The attack outside had been
an inconvenience that had merely slowed them down considerably.
Nevertheless, Mygag had already hoisted up Constipated Man and torn
away unconscious hero's pants. Now he shoved his burning trident under
CM's rectum. The resulting explosion was as spectacular as it was gory.
OMAR rolled on the floor, laughing hysterically. Oh, that had been
*great*.
He was still laughing right up until the point that Limp-Asparagus
Lad grabbed him by the throat and hoisted him into the air with a grip
that was only a smidgin away from crushing his windpipe.
Chinese Guy looked up from the quick inspection that he was making
of Toilet Humor Man. He had expected L-ALad to go to work at blocking any
attacks by Mygag. But Mygag was currently staring glassy eyed at nothing,
while the World's Most Boring Mutant Net.Hero was currently white
knuckled and glaring at the alien flamer with a look of anger that was
frankly terrifying - and only partly because it was on the face of
probably the last person you would have thought would wear it. "You have
done more than enough damage for one day," said Limp-Asparagus Lad in a
quiet, forceful voice.
"Uhm, Limpy?" said Chinese Guy. Beside him Toilet Humor Man raised
himself up from lying on the floor to a full sitting position, and wiped
some of the blood from his face with his forearm. OMAR took a swipe at
his assailant, but his lack of traction combined with Limp-Asparagus
Lad's kinetic absorption abilities meant that the troll's blow was only
strong enough to punch a hole through armour plate and didn't even throw
L-ALad off balance.
"You creatures have no idea the sort of damage you do, have you?"
Limp-Asparagus Lad demanded in what could only be described as outright
menace. His grip on OMAR's throat tightened, if such a thing was
possible. "Using people. Making them think in cliches. Turning them
*into* cliches. Politicians are more than self-important manipulators
of public opinion. Lawyers are more hidebound purveyors of restrictions
who are more interested in rules than in justice. And *they," he said,
sweeping his free hand in a shockingly extravagant gesture to indicate
the poor dead soldiers of Fort Baxter, "are more than psychotic killing
machines who are so dehumanised by their training that they go to sleep
each night masturbating to the fantasy of shooting people's faces off!"
Chinese Guy blanched. He realised now that Limp-Asparagus Lad had
gone off on a tangent into his personal bugaboo, and was for all intents
and purposes ranting (at least by his standards). CGuy was expecting the
Man of Dull to start turning green any second now.
OMAR had hoped for the same, but was quickly realising that he
wasn't going to get it. He could tell that the Legionnaire was wound up
into a rage, but what amazed the alien was that the net.hero was still
rational and in control of himself. His mind was a solid wall of
indignation, and there was no hope for the net.god to pry his way in.
OMAR took another ineffectual swipe at L-ALad as his panic began to grow.
Then he realised that he still had Mygag under his control, and tried to
focus past the pain to get the black and gold figure moving again.
Chinese Guy and Lenny both jumped into action as Mygag staggered
back into the offensive. Lenny in particular made a very effective
opponent by latching onto Mygag's neck and giving it a damn good
nibble. Chinese Guy swept the flailing Mygag off his feet, but Mygag
quickly launched his trident at Limp-Asparagus Lad amongst the confusion.
This did not impress Limp-Asparagus Lad in the slightest. He simply
made a half turn, using OMAR as a shield and letting the net.god take
the trident in the back. OMAR's eyes bugged out in pain, but he continued
to struggle.
Limp-Asparagus Lad raised an eyebrow in an arch manner and commented
to Chinese Guy, "Resilient, isn't he?"
Chinese Guy didn't know what was worse; fighting a murderously mind-
controlled LNHer in a room made slippery and noisesome by the guts and
faeces laminated across the walls and floor, or watching Limp-Asparagus
Lad abandon his usual Spock-like attitude to start doing an impersonation
of Rorschach.
Toilet Humor Man tried to help restrain Mygag, but he wasn't as
dexterous as either CGuy or Lenny, and Mygag felled him with a backhanded
swipe that included a sickening 'crunch' sound effect. It didn't look
like THM would be getting up again.
Amid all of this OMAR's mouth suddenly quirked into a thoughtful
rictus as he had an idea. Instead of struggling with brute strength
against someone who was apparently immune to it, he lashed out at what he
hoped would be a vulnerable spot. He jabbed a talon-like finger at Limp-
Asparagus Lad's face, plucking out the net.hero's left eye like an olive.
There was more than one way to skin a cat, after all. L-ALad collapsed in
pain, and OMAR was free again.
"Bruce! Look out!" called Lenny, as OMAR advanced towards them.
Despite the best clawing and biting that Lenny could dish out, Mygag had
Chinese Guy in an iron grip.
OMAR waddled up, making a bee-line for CGuy. He remembered him.
Troll boogers, huh? Without even bothering to swear he grabbed Chinese
Guy and drew him close, as if to kiss him. There was a crunching sound
- like someone biting into a big juicy apple - and then when OMAR dropped
Chinese Guy's body the Alt.stralian net.hero didn't seem to have a
face anymore.
Then Mygag's massively armoured fist pounded down on OMAR like a
piledriver. The alien troll had foolishly let his concentration wander
while he was in the rhapsody of biting Chinese Guy's face off, and in
that moment Mygag had broken free. OMAR snarled as he burnt precious
energy that he had gathered from corrupting the inhabitants of Fort
Baxter to throw Mygag aside and mentally forced the start of
reconstruction of his shattered bones.
Mygag summoned his trident to himself, and tapped the plot device in
his belt insignia. He vanished, with a confused Lenny still scrabbling
across his shoulders. And because this was no mere teleportation device
but a full grown plot device effect, all of the other Legion dead and
wounded who still had their plot devices on them were transported away
as well.
+-+=+-+=+-+
They materialised back in the cafeteria of the Legion of Net.Heroes,
of all places.
There were a number of Legionnaires around at the time, talking,
eating, and in some cases preparing plans for their upcoming patrols.
For an amazed two seconds all the noise stopped dead as the five of them
suddenly appeared from nowhere like something out of a nightmare. Then
the shouting started.
"All right, all right, let's have some quiet people," called
Catalyst Lass as she forced her way through to the returnees. "Somebody
call the sick bay and tell them to prepare for incoming. Then call Multi-
Tasking Man and tell him to coordinate with Dr Stomper to transport the
injured down on his mark."
"I think this one's dead," said someone, who was examining Toilet
Humor Man. "Looks like trauma to the head."
"I'll want confirmation of that from the people in sick bay,"
Catalyst Lass said. She looked around and saw Mygag, who was kneeling on
the floor, weeping. Not without some gentleness, she asked, "What
happened?"
"Sir," he said, gulping back tears. "Sir, we came into contact with
OMAR at Fort Baxter. We've had casualties, sir."
Catalyst Lass nodded, and spotted Lenny sitting beside the remains
of Chinese Guy; just watching. Her attention was dragged back by the
cries of, "Hey, stop him!" Catalyst Lass turned and was just in time to
see Mygag run himself through with his trident, puncturing his armour
and performing sepuku.
"There's two kinds of super heroes, Steck. Those
who die horribly... and those who haven't died yet."
- Rick Jones, in _Captain Marvel_ vol.3 no.35
---------------------------------------------------------------------
Character credits:
Blue Wave and Miss Translation created by Jamie Rosen.
Catalyst Lass, Cheesecake-Eater Lad, and Fred are Public Domain.
Chinese Guy and Lenny are Public Domain. Kinda sorta created by
Dvandom (Dave Van Domelen) and Saxon Brenton.
Constipated Man, Mygag, and Toilet Humor Man created by Jesse Wiley.
Killed with permission.
Dr Bad-Bedside-Manner created by Tick (Peter Milan).
Fuzzy created by Connie Hirsch.
Kid Recap created by Josh Guerink.
Limp-Asparagus Lad owned by Saxon Brenton. Created by Mystic
Mongoose (Robert Armstrong) and wReam (Ray Bingham).
OMAR is Public Domain. Created by Saxon Brenton.
Sleep-With-Anything-Alive Lass and Starts-Arguments-For-No-Apparent-
Reason Kid created by Tom Russell and Public Domain.
---------------------------------------------------------------------
Add Notes:
Just a quick confirmation that our insatiable thirst for blood
hasn't been quenched yet, and that in the approximately two episodes
left of this miniseries there's still plenty of room for more members
of the LNH to die, possibly quite horribly. I can't promise that each
and every casualty will get the type of in-depth treatment that Mygag
received in this issue, but that's the luck of the draw and of random
inspiration.
Also, please remember that when you use those electric cattleprods
to herd your doomed Legionnaires in our direction, that they must be
pre-existing characters whom you own the rights to.
----------
Saxon Brenton Uni of Technology, city library, Sydney, Australia
saxon.brenton at uts.edu.au
==========
Next Week: FLAME WARS IV -- Part Six!!!!
==========
Arthur "Same Classic Channel. But Same Time? Probably not." Spitzer
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