LNH: Classic LNH Adventures #164: Beige Countdown Part Seveteen

Arthur Spitzer arspitzer2 at gmail.com
Sun Aug 16 14:19:57 PDT 2020


You can sift through the racc list archive
https://lists.eyrie.org/pipermail/racc/
or you can try google groups racc for the seventeenth part of Beige Countdown.

And we have reached the last half of Beige Countdown #0 (by me, Arthur Spitzer
and one sentence by Dave Van Domelen) and thus the end of Beige Countdown.
Lots of Continuity Porn stuff here (so much so that its gravity created a Star.
A Continuity Porn Star that is!).  Also we've got the secret origin of Pulls-
Paper-Out-of-Hats Lad! And the introduction of perhaps the greatest LNH super
villain of all time -- The One -- The Only -- Greatest-Most-Awesome-LNH-Villain-
Ever Master Man (who undoubtedly after this issue went off to have an incredible
lucrative career with tons of miniseries, ongoing series, movies, tv series...
in some parallel universe where they like greatest most awesome characters like
this.  Not this one of course.  Sad.  Very Sad!)

And a special bonus Beige Countdown rejected ending...


Anyways...


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

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

                                    ADVENTURES #164


                         =====================
                     Beige Countdown Part Seventeen
                         =====================





From: Arthur Spitzer <arsp... at earthlink.net>
Subject: NTB/LNH: Beige Countdown #0: (3/4)
Date: Wed, 30 Apr 2008 02:26:49 +0000 (UTC)


                                ===+++===

1992 -

"It's done.  They're trapped."  Phil M. Norrish released his grips from 
the hands of Queen Bee's Knees and the dead corpse of the Golden 
Trenchcoat and walked over to the Book.  There in the pages of the Book 
of Deus ex Machinas were the images of Dekay and Diskolor.  Trapped in 
the pages.  He slammed the book shut.

"Golden!  Golden!!  Oh god!  You killed him!  Your spell killed him!" 
said Queen Bee's Knees, an old lady in an old style flapper get up with 
a trenchcoat as she rushed over to the Golden Trenchcoat's corpse and 
cradled him while tears streamed from her eyes.  "Golden."

"He knew what he was getting into," Phil M. Norrish said fishing around 
in one of his pockets for a cigarette and match.  Finding both he placed 
the cigarette in his mouth and lit it.  He exhaled smoke into the air. 
"We all knew what we were getting into."

"We'll need to hide the book," said the Top Hat, a trenchcoated man in a 
top hat who looked a bit like Fred Astaire.  "It will only be a matter 
of time before acolytes of the Brothers try to get them out of it. 
They'll also be trying to find us.  Time is of the Essence."

"Right.  Any suggestions about where we should bury it?"

"Let me think."  The Top Hat took his hat off and gave his head a 
scratch and then he glanced at his hat.  "Of course!  This is where 
we'll hide it!"

"You want to hide the book in your Top Hat?  Are you daft?" said Phil M. 
Norrish.

"No.  I want to hide it in a dimension in the hat.  A dimension where we 
can all hide and protect the book.  To the outside world it will just be 
a hat.  A piece of rubbish in an alleyway.  No one will ever know."

"You better be right.  Well, Bee's Knees, you going spend your whole 
life weeping?"

"You bastards!  Don't you care?  Is this all a joke to you?  He's dead!"

"Please, Anita," said the Top Hat putting his hand on Queen Bee's Knees 
shoulder, "We need to protect the book.  Your husband died so we could 
trap the Brothers.  If we don't protect the book from the various cults 
that worship the Brothers -- his death will have been in vain.  Please, 
for the Golden Trenchcoat's sake."

Queen Bee's Knees wiped her eyes.  "For him.  Not for any of you.  Just 
for him."

"Fine."  Phil M. Norrish flicked his still burning cigarette into the 
street.  "Let's get this show on the road."

The Top Hat took out his wand and after chanting some words waved the 
wand.  The three live trenchcoaters, the corpse, and the book all 
disappeared.  All that was left was the top hat in the alley.

A few minutes later, an eleven year old boy walked by the alley and 
spotted the hat.

"Cool!  I always wanted to wear one of these."  But before he put it on 
he glimpsed something within the hat.  Was it a piece of paper?

The boy reached for the thing inside the hat with his extra thumb hand 
and pulled it out.  It was a centerfold!  A centerfold from some porn 
magazine depicting a totally naked bunny woman!  The boy had a strange 
feeling when he saw the picture.  A feeling that he had a power.  An 
awesome power!  It was like he could feel every single porn centerfold 
there had ever been.  And they were all in this hat.  And just by 
reaching into the hat, he could get anyone of them.  This was the power 
he had.

No more would the kids at school tease him with cruel nicknames like, 
"Four Thumbs.  Thumbo.  Thumbelina.  Thumby."  No.  They wouldn't call 
him that anymore.  They would now call him -- 
Pulls-Porn-Centerfolds-Out-of-Hats Lad and he would be the coolest kid 
in school!  Yes!  They would all stand in awe at his power!  And he'd be 
rich selling porn centerfolds to all his classmates!  Yeah!

But wait.  What if it had only been a freak thing?  Suppose he'd have to 
try again.  How did he do it?  Just reach in there and grab it.  He 
pulled his hand out of the hat.  It was paper.  Someone's tax return. 
The boy frowned.

Perhaps he needed to focus on what he wanted.  Think porn centerfold. 
Naked cheerleader centerfold.  Focus.  Naked cheerleader centerfold. 
The boy reached back into the hat and pulled out -- someone's kleenix.

An hour later --

The boy looked at the huge stack of papers next to his hat.  None of the 
papers were porn centerfolds.  The boy then screamed in frustration, 
"What am I doing wrong?!!"

The boy sighed to himself.  Oh well.  Maybe he should just call himself 
Pulls-Paper-Out-of-Hats Lad instead.

                                ===+++===

2008 -

"And I wouldn't figure out how to pull porn centerfolds out again till I 
was twenty-one, which by then was a little too late.  As for the hat," 
Pulls-Paper-Out-of-Hats Lad shrugged.  "Once I figured out that I could 
use my power on any hat I guess I thought that there was nothing that 
special about this hat.  I just kept it for sentimental reasons.  And 
because it was cool, of course."

"I see.  Look, Pulls-Paper-Out-of-Hats Lad, I'm going to try to enter 
the dimension that's in your hat," Occultism said as he took the hat 
from Pulls-Paper-Out-of-Hats Lad's hands

"Err -- okay.  What should I do while you're doing that?"

"Just guard the hat.  Make sure it's safe from harm.  I'm not sure when 
I'll be back.  If I get into any trouble, I'll write some messages in 
paper and you can pull them out.  Okay?"

Pulls-Paper-Out-of-Hats Lad gave a nod.

"Okay then.  I'm going in."  Occultism Kid made some chants and gestures 
with his hands, which caused him to turn into a colorful cloud of smoke, 
which flowed into the top hat until it was gone.

Pulls-Paper-Out-of-Hats Lad looked inside his hat, but couldn't see 
anything of note.  He set it down on the table and sat in a chair.

"Okay.  I guess I'll be staring at this hat.  Staring away." 
Pulls-Paper-Out-of-Hats Lad tapped the table as he watched the hat with 
a bored expression.  "Damn.  I really should have brought my iHat."

                                ===+++===

As Occultism Kid slipped within a very small tear that was in 
Pulls-Paper-Out-of-Hats Lad's hat.  On the other side of the tear was 
magnificent landscape that was covered in an amethyst sky with azure 
clouds lighted by an emerald sun.  He could see far into the distance 
what appeared to be an ebony castle.  And on the ground made of blood 
red sand something was moving.  Creatures that looked like turtles. 
Turtles of Apocalyptic Proportions.

The landscape was covered in them.  There were millions of them.  Maybe 
billions?  Perhaps trillions?

The turtles became aware of his presence and before he could think about 
how to deal with them, the turtles started leaping from the ground 
sending their absurdly enormous bodies towards him.  Their eyes glowed 
with the color of Armageddon.

                                ===+++===

Weevil Dendrite didn't like what he saw when he opened up his fridge. 
It wasn't that his fridge was filled with bowls of jello.  No.  It 
always was like that.  No.  It was the color of the jello.  Every single 
jello in his refrigerator had turned the color beige.  The Grape, The 
Strawberry Banana, The Peach, and Yes -- even the Blackberry.  It was 
the Blackberry one that disturbed him the most.  The Blackberry jello 
that had only one purpose.  To tell him that the end of everything was 
near (or that the Cubs were going to win the World Series which didn't 
seem very likely this year). There was a beige jello tower that was 
growing from it.  And two jello monsters also seemed to be crawling out 
of it.  Weevil shut the fridge door.  No, this definitely wasn't good.

He went over to his cupboard and grabbed a bunch of jello packets.  And 
then he went over to his closet and took out his trenchcoat.  He sighed. 
  When would it ever end?

But for now -- the Jellomancer needed to return.

                                ===+++===

Kirk Dublin flipped the burger on the grill watching it sizzle on the 
hot metal.  Flies hovered around the grill.  Kirk tried to shoo the 
flies away with his spatula.  But one fly didn't seem to want to leave. 
  It kept buzzing and buzzing.  Getting closer to the grill.  And 
finally, the fly flew right into the burning coals.  Stupid fly.  Why 
did it do that?

Kirk looked up and noticed that a stranger was in his yard.  A man that 
wore a black trenchcoat and black fedora carrying a staff made out of 
some strange black material in one hand and a beige trenchcoat and 
briefcase in the other.  Kirk started to become very uneasy.  "Umm -- 
Can I help you with something?"

"Once I may have joined you for slightly charred hamburgers and 
citronella-tinged conversation, but for now I must be the Banquo at your 
banquet, the uninvited guest."  The Stranger gave a slight smile.

"Uhuh.  Look if you want some food or money, I can..."

"No.  I came here to speak to the Deadbeat."

"Deadbeat?  I don't know what you're talking about.  Maybe you should 
leave."

"No.  But my time is too precious to fool around with these type of 
games."  The trenchcoated stranger struck his staff on the lawn. 
Everything except for the stranger and Kirk disappeared.

"No!  What have you done?!" Kirk said as he gazed in horror at the blank 
white world.  "Where's my house?  My family?  Bring it back!  Bring it 
all back!"

The stranger shook his head.  "This is the truth that you already know. 
  This was a prison forged by the man named Dr. Molar.  Your family and 
life here are not real.  This is your reality."  The stranger dumped the 
beige trenchcoat onto the blank white ground.  "Pick it up.  Put it on."

"No.  I can't.  Not again.  Please!"

"If you do not put on the trenchcoat, then you turn your back on 
everything.  Everyone.  Worlds and Universes will die.  You will die. 
But put the trenchcoat on and everything might be saved.  And once the 
balance has been restored, I care not what you do with yourself.  I can 
bring you back here so you can wallow away your final years in this 
dream life.  If you want.  But if you don't put on the trenchcoat your 
dream and dream family die here and now."

"Fine."  Kirk Dublin grabbed the trenchcoat reluctantly.  He looked at 
the trenchcoat with the fading logo 'Stolen from Club Med' on it and 
hesitated.  His hands started to shake.  And then he put it on.

As soon as he put the trenchcoat on, a change overtook him.  A wild grin 
came over his face.  His hand quickly reached into one of the pockets 
and pulled out a pack of cigarettes.  He stuffed every one of them in 
his mouth and took out a lighter and lit them all.  After a number of 
very deep inhales and exhales, he took all but one out of his mouth. 
Putting his hand into another pocket, he took out a bottle of pills and 
a bottle of gin.  After he swallowed the bottle of pills and washed them 
down with the bottle of gin, he threw them on the ground.  "Damn.  I 
needed that."  He laughed to himself.  And then he looked at the 
Stranger and gave a wink.  "Well, Dave.  Thanks and all for getting me 
out of that Retard Asylum.  You can drop me off at the nearest orgy or 
whore house if you want.  I'll even pay for gas."

"No.  You're going to Net.ropolis.  You have business there."

"The Hell I do.  Look.  Fine.  You can leave me here if you want.  I'm 
sure I can find my way out of here."  Dr. Deadbeat started to walk 
around the blank world he was in.  "Okay.  Where's the door in this 
place?  Got to be somewhere here.  Hmm."

"As tempting as that sounds.  No.  You're going to Net.ropolis.  And 
here's the reason."  The Dvandom Stranger opened up the briefcase and 
showed the contents to Dr. Deadbeat.  The contents gave a golden glow.

"Is that...?  Christ.  For real?"

The Dvandom Stranger nodded.

"Damn.  Bloody Bastard."  Dr. Deadbeat frowned.  "Fine.  Net.ropolis it 
is.  So.  Who else is going to be there?  Eh?"

"Everyone that I can get."

Dr. Deadbeat laughed.  "That's funny.  You're kidding.  Right?"  The 
Dvandom Stranger didn't answer.  "I mean you're kidding.  Please tell me 
you're..."

And with a flash the two trenchcoaters disappeared leaving a blank white 
world that seemed to be turning more and more beige as the time passed.

                                ===+++===

A man walked into a Diapers, Guns, and Pentagram Supplies.Mart.  A 
strange tall man wearing an old railroad conductor's hat, dress pants, 
shirt, and suspenders.  Near the counter of the store were two 
trenchcoated men and another person who looked like the store clerk 
bound to the floor with rope.  The two trenchcoaters looked up and 
stared at the strange man with the railroad conductor hat with rather 
hostile expressions.

"I say there!  What are you two gents doing?" said the Stange Man with a 
cheerful voice.  "Ah, is that an exorcism?  Ah, yes -- an exorcism! 
Jolly good.  Jolly good.  I don't like to brag -- but I have had a share 
of exorcisms under my belt in my day.  Let's see here.  When was the 
last one?  Oh yes.  I was exorcising this Non-Tipping Barfly.  Sadly, it 
went a little wrong.  The demon escaped and kind of took over that small 
town.  A shame.  It was a rather nice village before the demon took it 
over.  Haven't been back there since.  I wonder if that demon is still 
in control?  Well, I can't really go back there.  The county, you see, 
passed this law forbidding me from entering that county again.  Seemed 
slightly excessive, but I guess that whole demon escapade left them a 
little raw.  Oh, btw, the name's Velcro.  Simon Velcro.  Member of the NTB."

The two trenchcoaters didn't answer.  They just continued to stare at him.

"I know what you're thinking.  You're probably thinking that I'm just 
some poser and wanker trying to pretend I'm the great Simon Velcro just 
so you'll think I'm cool and hip.  But no really, I am Simon Velcro. 
Really!  Honest to Betsy!  You see my trenchcoat was stolen by this 
Negatively Trained Bartender -- it's actually a rather long (but highly 
amusing) story involving Nude Tricycling Bears and Naughty Teenaged 
Babes -- but you're probably busy with that whole exorcism macjiggy so I 
won't tire you with all of the breathtaking details.  Suffice to say I 
had this map given to me by the Dvandom Stranger, or Davey as he likes 
me to call him (because we're that close!), that showed the whereabouts 
of this very important meeting that Davey wanted me to attend (probably 
because of my incredible occult abilities or conversation skills!).  But 
alas, I put the map in my trenchcoat -- and my trenchcoat was stolen! 
Can you believe that?  I can't -- but it happened!  And since you two 
gents seem to be wearing trenchcoats I was wondering if you were aware 
of where this meeting might be taking place -- or even what city it 
might be at?"

"Hmm.  There's this big thing going down in Net.ropolis.  Is that what 
you're talking about?" said the trenchcoated man with the mustache.

"Net.ropolis?  Yes.  That sounds about right.  Well, I guess that's all 
I really needed to know.  Thank you for the help.  I'd love to stay and 
chat with you fellas, but..."  Simon Velcro looked at his Mickey Mouse 
watch.  "But the time -- I need to get my beauty rest.  You know how 
that is.  Well, thanks again.  Toot-a-loo, my fellow Net.Trenchcoat 
Brigade members.  And you too, Mr. Bound on the Floor Man.  Bye!"

The man bound on the floor started to scream as Simon Velcro exited the 
building.

"Wait.  Who the fuck is Simon Velcro?" asked the man in the trenchcoat 
who had no mustache to his companion.

The trenchcoated man with the mustache shrugged his shoulders and began 
to apply more holy water on the bounded screaming man.

                                ===+++===

Occultism Kid wrapped himself in a Sphere of Protection, but he knew he 
wouldn't be able to sustain the spell forever as fire and lightning 
beams from a swarm of turtles' eyes tried to annihilate him and acid and 
poison gases washed over the sphere.  For some reason these turtles 
unlike the Looniverse counterparts the LNH had fought seemed to have 
quite a bit of powers and a resistance to magic.  Was it the dimension 
that was giving them these powers?  Or maybe the Book of Deus ex 
Machinas?  Whatever the reason, he had to get out of here before they 
totally pulverized him.

He'd have to go back and get a large number of LNH'rs, although judging 
from the powers and number of turtles there was no way that even the 
whole LNH could defeat all of them.  He needed a plan.  Maybe Hooded 
Ho`'od Win could have a whole lot of the LNH fight the turtles while a 
small team led by him snuck into the castle to get the Book.  Or Maybe 
something else.

First things first though.  He had to get out of here alive.  As he 
pondered how to slip through the turtles that were surrounding him he 
noticed that they had stopped attacking him.  Something was wrong.  The 
turtles seemed to be gagging.  And then he watched as they started to 
fall back to the ground.  The turtles were dying.  And not just the ones 
that were attacking him.  The rest also seemed to be dropping to the 
ground and collapsing.  They were all dying.

Occultism Kid was relieved that the barrage of violence had stopped, but 
the death of all of these turtles greatly disturbed him.  What was doing 
it?  Or who?  The few ideas about who didn't comfort him.  He had to get 
to the castle quickly and get the Book before whatever was killing all 
of the turtles got there first.  He cast a spell that gave him the 
ability to fly at incredibly fast speeds and sped towards the castle 
even as the Turtles of Apocalyptic Proportions dropped like flies from a 
wave of death.

                                ===+++===

Occultism Kid slowed his body down as he entered the castle.  He could 
feel the power of the Book of Deus ex Machinas.  It was like a candle 
flame that flickered with the energy of a trillion universes.  Occultism 
Kid floated his way towards this incredible feeling, which led him to a 
gigantic gold door.  With a blast of his magic the door opened revealing 
a large room.  In the room was an old trenchcoated man whose colors were 
only black, white, and grey.  He clutched a book in his hands.  Beside 
him were the skeletons of a male and a female who were also wearing 
trenchcoats.

"You idiot!" the old man said in a furious manner.  "You brought him 
here!  You've doomed us!  You've -- It's all doomed.  Everything wasted."

"What are you talking about?" Occultism Kid said looking around the 
room.  "Who did I...?"

"I believe he's talking about me," said a voice that Occultism Kid 
instantly recognized.  A second later the visage of Bart the Dark 
Receptionist became visible.  Unearthly crimson tendrils wrapped around 
Occultism Kid before he could act in retaliation.  "Oh and btw thanks 
for helping me find this place.  I really -- and I mean really couldn't 
have done this without you.  See, Mr. Grey Guy was casting some powerful 
spell that hid him and this dimension.  So thanks."  Bart laughed a 
mocking laugh.  "Now I can free the Bryttle Brothers from the book.  Oh. 
  Didn't you know that's where they were?  I must have forgot to tell 
you that info.  A shame."

Oh god.  Occultism Kid's heart sank as he realized what he had done. 
Occultism Kid started chanting spells to help him break free from the 
tendrils grip.

Bart ignoring Occultism Kid blasted the Ring of Retconn at the old man. 
  The old man looked in horror as he realized he didn't have any arms. 
He never had any arms.  The book he was holding fell to the ground.

"That's not the real book, is it?"  Bart said glancing at the book that 
had fallen.  "Some kind of magical trap, right?  Clever."  Bart blasted 
the book into oblivion.  "Too bad for you -- I can read minds, isn't 
it?"  Bart laughed.  "I think I'll read yours now.  Now, I have to warn 
you -- this -- is going to smart."  The old man's face clenched in agony 
as he let out a blood curding scream.  "Wow.  Well.  You've committed 
all kinds of nauseating and unspeakable acts, haven't you?  I feel 
jealous.  Alas, it was for naught.  Boy, you're probably feeling very 
guilty about the life you've led right about now, I'll bet.  No heaven 
for you.  Oh.  So that's where it is.  Interesting."

Occultism Kid struggled in the tendrils, which seemed to absorb every 
spell he cast, making them stronger and stronger.

Bart walked over to where the old man was and then using his Insanity 
Gauntleted hand reached into the old man's chest and pulled out his 
still beating grayish heart.  "A rather peculiar place to store a book 
if I do say so myself."  Bart burned the heart away with a mere thought. 
  He blew the pile of ashes away from his palm leaving a tiny book. 
"Hmm.  Lot smaller than I expected.  Wait a sec."  Bart closed his eyes 
and then reopened them.  The Book of Deus ex Machinas returned to its 
original size.  "There.  That's better.  Now let's see what we have here."

"Bart!  Don't do this!  Please, just think about..."

Bart looked back at Occultism Kid and shook his head in an amused 
manner.  "Occultism Kid.  Occultism Kid.  Really, now.  After all of the 
horrible atrocities I've committed to get this far, and you think I 
should stop right now?  Right now?  No.  Uhuh.  Sorry.  That's not how 
the game is played.  Nope."  Bart opened the book.  "Well, I guess I 
better get this over with.  Now which page are they on?"  Bart thumbed 
through the index.  "Ah.  Here.  Dekay and Diskolor.  Page 666.  Heh. 
How cliched."  Bart flipped over to the page and ripped it out.  Bart 
held the page up so that Occultism Kid could see it.  "Any last words?"

Occultism Kid closed his eyes and focused all of his energy into one 
enormous incredibly powerful spell.  And then he chanted one word. 
Freedom.  A surge of magical energy enveloped him burning away the 
tendrils that bound him.  He was free, but the spell took its toil. 
Occultism Kid collapsed to the ground.

"Impressive.  A little too late though."  With a thought, Bart turned 
the page into flame and ash.  The ashes flaked down to the ground. 
"Hmm.  Have to admit I was expecting something a little more dramatic. 
Ah well.  The Brothers are free.  My contract with them has been 
fulfilled. Hmm.  Weird.  You hear that?  A ticking sound?  There's this 
ticking in my head.  Tick.  Tick.  Tick.  Hmm.  Of course maybe I'm just 
going crazy."  Bart chuckled to himself.

Occultism Kid struggled his away up from the floor.  He had to get the 
book from Bart.

"Oh?  You want the book?  Well.  Okay."  Bart threw the book down.  "You 
can have it.  I'm kind of done with it myself.  Enjoy.  Oh and you can 
live too.  Aren't a nice guy?  Well, guess I'll be going.  See you in 
the Past."  With that said Bart vanished from the room.

Occultism crawled his way over to where the book was and picked it up. 
He looked over to where the old trenchcoated man was lying.  He had 
failed.  This was all his fault.  God.  God dammit!  Why didn't his 
future self warn him about this?  Why?

And then Occultism Kid heard a ticking sound in his head too.  And 
that's when the earth shook.


                                ===+++===



From: Arthur Spitzer <arsp... at earthlink.net>
Subject: NTB/LNH: Beige Countdown #0:  (4/4)
Date: Wed, 30 Apr 2008 02:29:12 +0000 (UTC)


Part 4

                                ===+++===

Meg Ryan looked at the group of heroes that were sitting at the table in 
the rather dark dusty mysterious basement with a serious expression on 
her face.  "Okay.  You're probably wondering what this meeting is about. 
  Why I called you all here."

"Umm -- actually, what I'm kinda wondering is what you, Meg Ryan, are 
doing here," Cheesecake Eater Lad responded.  "Last time I checked Meg 
Ryan wasn't a member of the LNH.  What the hell is going on here?  Is 
this some type of Retcon Hour effect?"

"Cat," Doctor Stomper said looking straight at Meg Ryan.  "You might 
want to turn my image.thingee off."

"Oh.  Whoops."  Catalyst Lass gave a little giggle as she switched it 
off.  "Sorry about that.  Forgot that was still on.  Had to come here 
incognito.  And somehow I just couldn't resist being Meg for a bit."

"Next time, perhaps something more inconspicuous."  Doctor Stomper 
pulled out a small device about the size of a thumb tack.  "This is what 
this meeting is about.  It's one of Hex Luthor's Freedom Chips.  It was 
originally installed in Hell Catalyst although I managed to get it out 
of her and put a decoy in its place."

"Whoah," Cheesecake Eater Lad broke in.  "When did this happen?  Why 
doesn't anyone know about this?"

"It happened several months ago," answered Catalyst Lass.  "Me and Helly 
have both been working a covert mission to learn as much as we can about 
the Hexfire Club.  We switch places every now and then.  The trickiest 
part being fooling Mr. Tiddles.  What we've learned though is that Hex 
Luthor has control over the LNH and that the Ultimate Ninja probably 
isn't the Ultimate Ninja."

"That sounds about right," Cheesecake Eater Lad said with a nod.  "I've 
been having my suspicions too lately.  UN has been acting very strange 
since he was released from prison.  I don't know -- there's something 
about the way he's behaving that reminds me of someone else.  Just can't 
think of whom.  So, what happened to the real Ultimate Ninja and what 
are we going to do about it?"

"I think we're going to have to assume that the Ultimate Ninja can take 
care of himself," said Fearless Leader breaking into the conversation. 
"But right now we've got all kinds of problems -- and the biggest one 
being that everyday a hundred more Freedom Chip controlled Superheroes 
are joining the LNH.  We're going to need a force to counteract that. 
We're going to have find out who's with us and try to recruit non LNH'rs 
and maybe some supervillains.  We're going to have to build an army and 
prepare for war."

"Yes.  Maybe we'll have to do that.  But it's possible that I'll be able 
to figure out how the Freedom Chip works and disable it with some 
device," Doctor Stomper replied.

"Well, it looks like we have lots to do and..." Catalyst Lass paused, 
"Weird.  Does any one else hear a ticking sound?"

The secret meeting room started to shake.

                                ===+++===

Continuity Porn Star struggled a bit with the crow bar as he attempted 
to open the wooden box.  There, the box was open, Continuity Porn Star 
thought as he put the crow bar down and adjusted his bathrobe (a 
bathrobe that covered Continuity Porn Star's very tattooed body. 
Tattoos of which contained many references to a number of RACC stories. 
  Tattoos that would Boggle and Confuse any ordinary person who 
attempted to look at them.  Only a person who had read every LNH, LNHY, 
PULP, NTB, RACChallenge, KEWL, SUPERGUY, OMEGA, PATROL, ASH, Elsewhirl, 
8FOLD, and a number of other RACC Imprints stories could possibly hope 
to understand what Continuity Porn Star's tattoos meant.  A person who 
hadn't read all of those stories would just look at all the tattoos with 
befuddlement and say, 'What the hell?  I don't get that.  You mean I 
have to read all of those stories just to understand what those tattoos 
mean?  All of them?  Christ!  I don't have time for that.  God.  I've 
got to get out of here.  I just don't understand.  I don't understand! 
What do they mean!?  WHAT DO THEY MEAN!!!?'  And then they'd walk away 
totally confused.  If they looked at the tattoos that is.) Continuity 
Porn Star wiped some sweat off the top of his head and opened the wooden 
crate.  And then he looked inside and backed away in horror. 
"Tarantulas!  Pink Tarantulas!"

The Pink Tarantulas started crawling out of the crate.

"Ah!" said Mynabird.  "They finally arrived!"

"You wanted these things?"

"Tarantula!" growled the Tarantulas.

"Of course!"  Mynabird walked over and plucked one of the tarantulas and 
watched as it crawled on his hand.  "We had a small animal gap.  I mean, 
what good would it be to create a massive supervillain army that can 
destroy the LNH if at the last second a massive swarm of kiwis defeats 
us?  Am I right?"

"I don't think that's going to happen."

"But it could!" Mynabird said shaking his head.  "No.  People always 
underestimate the small animals factor.  But not me!  I understand only 
all too well that sometimes the smallest animals are the most dangerous 
animals!"  Mynabird clenched his fist.  "And now with these tarantulas 
who are trained to attack and kill kiwis and oozlefinches, we've got 
that base covered!"

"But they're pink!  Why?" asked Continuity Porn Star.

"Well, you wouldn't believe what they were charging for the ordinary 
brown type!  But they were practically giving these pink ones away.  The 
person I bought these from assures me though that they're as dangerous 
perhaps even more dangerous than the ordinary ones."

"Tarantula!" growled the Tarantulas.

"You're kidding?  Right?" said Romantic Innuendo with an aghast look on 
her face.  "We now have to share our headquarters with tarantulas?  Oh 
god.  This place is so horrible.  And to think -- back in the days when 
Mr. Homage was running the Brotherhood we used to stay at the Ritziest 
and Swankest Hideout spots.  I mean there would be Champaign bottles in 
the bathroom and mints on the pillows.  And a red rose also on the bed." 
  Romantic Innuendo sighed to herself.

"Hmm," said Captain Coredump with a slight hurt expression on his face, 
"I don't remember any red roses on my bed."

"Well, that might have just been me.  Nevertheless, how long are we 
going to have to endure this dump?  I mean really.  The LNH's cellrooms 
were better than this place.  I mean, this place is totally ruining my 
complexion," Romantic Innuendo said looking at her face using her 
compact mirror.

Mynabird snatched the mirror out of her hands and crushed it in his 
fist.  "I am not Homage!  And this is not the Brotherhood!  This is the 
Legion of Net.Villains!"

A mischievous smile found its way onto Romantic Innuendo's face. 
"Perhaps, a girlfriend would give you a much more Sunny..."  Before she 
could say more though Mynabird grabbed her by the throat.

"If I feel even the slightest romantic feeling for anyone -- Anyone -- 
I will tear your head off your shoulders!  Am I clear?"  Mynabird threw 
Romantic Innuendo back down onto the floor.  "When we have crushed the 
LNH, we will be kings and queens of this world!  We'll be able to live 
in castles or whatever your heart desires."

"Yeah?  And when are we going to do that?" growled the RobGoblin. 
"While we're standing around jawing -- the LNH keeps getting bigger!"

"10,000 new members," said Rumor Monger.  "Well, that's what I've heard."

"Patience my fellow villains.  I have a plan.  A secret plan that just 
can't be revealed right at this moment, but I assure you that..."

"You know, Mynabird -- I think you're a one trick pony.  Oh sure you 
were awesome in that whole Supervillain-LNH Robot Duplicate War, but 
what have you done since then?  It seems like failure after failure. 
That whole taking over Net.ropolis debacle.  The Ultimate Black Hole 
incident."  The mysterious figure in the shadows shook his head.  "No. 
I think we need a change in leadership.  And.  I think that change 
should be me -- Greatest-Most-Awesome-LNH-Villain-Ever Master Man!!!! 
Yes!!  Me!!  I should be the leader of the Legion of Net.Villains," 
Greatest-Most-Awesome-LNH-Villain-Ever Master Man said stepping out of 
the shadows.  "So who's with me?  Who's ready for the greatest LNH 
villain ever to be in charge?"

The room filled with a long awkward silence.

"Right.  Looks like the Silent Majority has spoken.  Okay, here's my 
first leadership decision.  I think we should all try some yoga 
meditation exercises and then..."  But before 
Greatest-Most-Awesome-LNH-Villain-Ever Master Man could finish his first 
leadership decision a dark energy blast from Mynabird's black metal hand 
sent him screaming to the ground.  "Oh god!  The pain!  The Pain!! 
Mommy!!?"

"Now.  Anyone else wish to challenge my rule?  Speak now!"  An even 
deafer silence filled the room.  "I thought so.  Now let us start -- 
strange.  Does anyone else hear a ticking sound?  I can feel it in my..."

The Legion of Net.Villain's Headquarters started to shake.

"Tarantula!" growled the Tarantulas.

                                ===+++===

"I don't know who you are."  A frown overtook Hex Luthor's face while he 
listened on the phone to the person who had called him.  "I don't know 
why you're telling me this.  How did you get this number?  Prank calling 
this number is a felony.  I don't know you or what you're talking about. 
  No.  Please don't call here ever again.  I am notifying the 
authorities.  Goodbye."  Hex Luthor hung up the phone.

So, the ninja was free.  That wasn't too surprising.  It was something 
that had to happen sooner or later.  Hex Luthor smiled.  Good thing he 
implanted that Freedom Chip inside the ninja's head.

Everything was starting to fall into place.  He just needed one more 
thing.  Hex walked over to a painting of Abraham Lincoln on the wall and 
removed it.  Behind the painting was a safe.  Hex pressed his hand on 
the hand print detector till a red light started to blink.  "Open," he 
said to the safe and the safe door opened.  He reached inside the safe 
and pulled out an object

The object looked very old and had a number of cracks on it.  There was 
a big piece that was missing from it.  Hex Luthor gazed at the object 
with delight in his eyes.  He needed to find the missing piece and then 
everything would fall into place.  And with the fully restored Cosmic 
Plot Device in his control not even God could stop him much less the LNH.

Hex Luthor placed the partial Cosmic Plot Device back into the safe and 
locked it back up.  As he reached for the painting, he felt a ticking 
noise in his head.  What the hell?  Where was it coming from?

And that's when the Oval Office started to shake.



                                ===+++===

Bicycle Repair Lad screamed at the TV set that was showing Hex Luthor 
being interviewed by the ladies of the View.  "Change the channel! 
Change it!  I give in!  I'll talk!  God!  Can't take... 
Argghghghghhgh!!!!!"  Bicycle Repair Lad couldn't change the channel 
himself as he was strapped securely to a bed.

And as if someone heard Bicycle Repair Lad's screaming, the channel 
changed to a picture of the Beige Clock Tower.

"Tick.  Tick.  Tick," laughed Bicycle Repair Lad as tears started to run 
from his eyes.  "Tick.  Tick.  Tick."

Bicycle Repair Lad's bed started to shake.


                                ===+++===


Irony Man looked at the huge 'Irony Man: The Movie' billboard.  Someone 
had painted the words, "The NTB Lives!" on it.  Someone's idea of a sick 
joke.  At least he hoped it was.  The last thing the LNH needed were 
those satantic-druggy-anarchy freaks running around.

And then he noticed that the colors on the billboard were starting to 
fade away.  He could hear a ticking sound in his head.  Where was the...?

And then everything started to shake.  He could see various buildings 
starting to crumble apart and people in the streets starting to panic. 
He looked up into the sky.  The color was wrong.  It wasn't blue 
anymore.  It was Beige.  It was too soon.  It couldn't be happening 
right now, could it?

Irony Man blasted the jets on his ankles and flew towards the Beige 
Clock Tower.  Out of the ground they were rising as the world that 
surrounded them crumbled into dust.  Two gigantic thrones.  And sitting 
on them two gigantic monsters.

The first monster had a body made out of human corpses.  And its head 
was made out of a cloud of flies and worms.  Its eyes glowed red.  One 
of its hands held a blackened sword.  Dekay.

The other monster was a pale white color.  In the middle of its chest 
was a gaping mouth, which had seven forked tongues each a different 
color.  It only had one eye on its head, and it was a very blood shot 
eye.  A number of spikes stabbed out of its head.  Each spike had a 
skull attached to it.  One of its hands held a spiked club.  Diskolor.

Irony Man watched as the gigantic thrones rose and rose.  This was too 
soon.  The LNH wasn't ready for this -- not yet.  Their eyes were shut. 
  Were they asleep?  They were so big.  They weren't this big the last 
time, were they?  He looked at the tower.  The Beige Clock Tower's hands 
were on Midnight.

Irony Man had to get out of this place.  He had to be Toony Stork and 
drown himself in a martini and some hot looking Hollywood starlet.  He 
couldn't watch this.  He looked down at the innocent bystanders on the 
ground.  They were screaming for someone to help.  Anyone.  Irony Man 
sighed and then took out his comm.thingee.  "Multi-Tasking Man?  Yeah. 
Send medical teams and any superheroes good at rescue and removing 
rubble.  I'll be here."

Irony Man then landed himself and started to help the crowd.


                                ===+++===

"Need help."

Occultism Kid looked back and saw that the grayish trenchcoated man was 
still alive and talking.

"Damn.  You're still... How?  He took out your heart."

"Magic.  Won't be for long though."  The grayish man started to cough. 
"Cigarette.  Left pocket."

Occultism Kid pulled out a cigarette and put it in the old man's mouth. 
  With a snap of his finger, a flame lit the cigarette.

"Thanks.  There still may be a way.  Stop them.  The Book."

"Yeah, I've got the book."

"There's a spell.  The Spell of Spells.  Need Insanity Gems.  Ring of 
Retconn.  Cosmic Plot Device to perform it."

"Is that all?" said Occultism Kid in a sarcastic voice.

"Be careful.  The book destroys.  Destroys everything.  Destroys..."



                                ===+++===

1941 --

Glenn Miller's 'Chattanooga Choo Choo' played from a radio by the 
corner.  On the floor was an unconscious man in a black trenchcoat with 
a grape crown on his head and an empty bottle of wine near him.

"Bacchus just can't hold his liquor," laughed a woman in a flapper type 
get up.  A woman in her forties called Queen Bee's Knees.  "And you -- 
Philly, Darling -- you just make everything grey -- don't you?"

Phil M Norrish looked at Queen Bee's Knees and then at the glass of wine 
he was holding.  The grey wine he was drinking.  "Just my calling," he 
said sipping the wine.

"Quiet, people," said a man in a golden trenchcoat.  "There's breaking 
news!"  The rest of the people in the room who were still conscious 
gathered by the radio.  "Hell.  Japan bombed Hawaii.  Christ.  I guess 
America will be going to war after all."

"You really know how to take the cat out of its pajamas, Goldy darling." 
  Queen Bee's Knees made her way to the kitchen.  "Now where did we put 
the absinthe?"

A man in a top hat sighed.  "When are we going to arise from being 
bloody savages beating on our war drums?"

"Not in this life time, Top Hat, dear."  Queen Bee's Knees came back 
with a bottle and poured herself a glass of absinthe.

"That might not be totally true," Phil M Norrish broke in.  "I've been 
doing some research on this book.  A book that has spells so powerful 
that they could change everything.  Spells that could end war, disease, 
famine, and everything that has ever troubled mankind.  And I received a 
tip from a source last week about this book being in Africa."

"Sounds like a fairytale," said the Golden Trenchcoat shaking his head.

"Maybe.  But Hitler is searching for this book too.  Anyway, I'm heading 
off for Africa tomorrow.  See if I can get it before the Nazis do.  In 
fact I should probably be going.  Got a lot of packing to do."

"Oh no -- Philly?  You're not leaving right now?  We've hardly seen each 
other.  I thought you were going to be around for the week.  There was 
this new Greek Restaurant I was dying to try out.  Oh pooh."  Queen 
Bee's Knees held out her cigarette holder with an unlit cigarette.  "A 
light, darling?"

Phil took out a grey match and helped light the cigarette.  "Fraid so. 
Sorry.  Guess I should have mentioned earlier."

"Well, if you have to go -- you have to go.  Be sure to get plenty of 
shots.  The jungle is filled with horrible nasty dreadful diseases, or 
so I've heard."  Queen Bee's Knees gave Phil a hug and a peck on the 
cheek.  "Hopefully the African Sun will put some color back in that 
awful pale face of yours.  Well, be sure to drop us a line when you get 
back.  Bonan Vojagon, darling -- and all that jazz."

"Yeah."  Phil M Norrish put on his fedora.  "See you in the funny papers 
too."

As Phil M Norrish stepped outside and shut the door, he paused and 
listened to the party that had resumed.  The music and the drinking.  He 
had to go.  He had to find the book.  He could save everything.  Even 
himself.

He pulled his trenchcoat's lapels close together and reached into one of 
his pockets for a cigarette.  He put the cigarette in his mouth and 
looked back.

And then he walked away.

                                ===+++===

"Sir?  Are you..."  Occultism Kid shook the body of the grey 
trenchcoated man.  He was dead.  The ticking had stopped.  Occultism Kid 
took the old man's fedora and put it over his face.

Occultism Kid looked up.  Parts of the castle were starting to fall.  He 
had to get out of here.  Clutching the book in his hands, he cast a 
spell teleporting him into the sky.

 From the sky he could see the black castle collapse to the ground.  The 
red sand was littered with the corpses of Turtles of Apocalyptic 
Proportions.  All of them were dead.  No wait.  He could hear a sound. 
A wailing.  One of them was still alive.  It was a baby.  A baby Turtle 
of Apocalyptic Proportions?  Why didn't Bart kill it?

Occultism Kid looked at the baby.  What was he going to do?  Hell. 
There was only one thing he could do.  A spell he cast scooped up the 
baby Turtle of Apocalyptic Proportions.  At least he could save 
something today, he thought grunting as he dragged the incredibly heavy 
baby and Book of Deus ex Machinas towards the crack in the sky.

And as the three left the dimension, what remained completely disappeared.

                                ===+++===

1992 --

Golden Man looked outside.  The beige was gone.  The sky was blue again. 
  The trees were green.  The birds were red.  Someone must have saved 
the world.  Great for them.  Golden Man shut the curtains.

Golden Man walked over to his chair and clicked on his television.

<<...Witnesses described it as a huge burst of color that swept over the 
whole city.  The 4-Color Kid..."

No.  It wasn't him.

"...was a member of the LNH and also a member of the old superhero group 
from the 40s called the Classic Squad."

No!  He's alive!  Tell me he's alive!  Tell me!

And for another two hours Golden Man watched the coverage.  He saw 
everything.  He saw it all.

"...It was the bravest thing I ever saw..."

You stupid lazy -- God.  Goddamn.  Get out of that chair.  Get out of 
it.  Do something!  Do something!

Golden Man got out of his chair.  He walked over and picked up a 
crumpled card.  He looked at the card.  He walked over to his phone.  He 
picked the phone up.  He stood for more than a minute looking at the 
card.  And then he dialed the number on it.

"Hello?  Is this the LNH?"


                                ===+++===
To Be Continued in...

                              B  E  I  G  E
                         M  I  D  N  I  G  H  T
                                   # 1!

                                ===+++===

Credits

Ideas for this series from Rob Rogers, Lalo Martins, Martin Phipps, 
Saxon Brenton, and me...

And thanks to Dave for his sentence... :)



Occultism Kid II created by Josh Geurick


The August One (Occultism Kid I) -- August Paul Yang
Bacchus -- Looniverse version by Paul Hardy
Bad-Timing Boy - Vernon H Harmon
Bart the Dark Receptionist - Ken Schmidt
Bicycle Repair Lad -- Chris Ware
Brotherhood of Villains -- Drizzt and wReam
Cannon Fodder - wReam
Captain Backdate -- Hubert Bartels
Catalyst Lass - Elisabeth Riba
Classic Squad -- Drizzt
DC Comic Swiper Man - Jef Kolodziej
Dekay and Diskolor - Scavenger
Dr. Deadbeat -- Arthur Spitzer
Dvandom Stranger - Dave Van Domelen
Fearless Leader - Dave Van Domelen
4-Color Kid - Scavenger
Footnote Girl - Saxon Brenton
Fuzzy - Connie Hirsch
Golden Man -- Chris Hare
Golden Lord -- Drizzt
Hex Luthor - Chris Hare and Saxon Brenton
Irony Man - Doug Moran
Jellomancer -- Timonthy Toner
J. Random Kiwi - Jaelle
Kid Recap - Josh Geurink
Kirbybots - Jameel Al Khavitz
Kiwis - Ian Porell
Master Blaster - Robert Ramirez / Martin Phipps
Mr. Multitask - Drizzt
Mr. Nasty (tm) - Martin Phipps
Mr. Tiddles - Saxon Brenton
Multi-Tasking Man - Jeff Friedman
Oozlefinches - Ted "Arsenal " Brock
Pulls Paper Out of Hats Lad - Arthur Spitzer
Turtles of Apocalyptic Proportions - Tarq
Throbby the Talking Severed Heart - Arthur Spitzer
Ultimate Ninja - wReam
WikiBoy - Tom Russell
The Wireless Society of Heroes -- Dave Van Domelen (not that they 
appeared.  :))
You're-Not-Hitting-Me-Hard-Enough Lad - Arthur Spitzer

Writer's Notes:

Well, that was an Orgy of Continuity Porn, wasn't it?

Will any besides Saxon Brenton understand anything here?  Oh and if 
you're a new reader this was probably the worst issue for new readers 
you could have possibly read.

Anyway, the original plan was to have Beige Midnight finished by this 
time and post the last issue today.  But since I'm only human that 
didn't happen.  Maybe BM #12 will be ready for the 17th birthday of the 
LNH.  :)

This issue was me cramming a bunch of stuff in that I didn't really deal 
with in the rest of the series.

As for the skipped issues... well hopefully by reading 12,11,7,6,5,1, 
and 0 you can understand what's going on.

Rob Rogers will be writing 10-8 and posting it sometime in the future 
(I've seen 10 which looks cool).  As for 4-2, They're up for grabs. 
Take them if you want.  As for me I'm done here and have tons of writing 
to do for Beige Midnight which isn't going to have any skipped issues.

Thanks for the feedback and reviews from people like Tom, Saxon, Tarq, 
Lalo, and Martin.

I believe this got a lot more positive reviews than the DC series did.

I had a lot more to say about this issue, but I'm really tired so I'm 
just going to post it.

                                ===+++===

EXTRA BONUS -- Rejected Ending for Beige Countdown!


                                ===+++===

Dekay and Diskolor sat on their enormous thrones.  And then...

....The Butterflies came!

Billions of colorful butterflies swarmed in the air.

Both Dekay and Diskolor tried to swat the butterflies away.  But they 
were too much.  And Dekay and Diskolor screamed a horrible scream as the 
butterflies devoured them.

Too much.

Too much were the butterflies!


                                ===+++===

Hex Luthor got out of his chair.

"Damn, where did that earthquake come from?"

But before Hex could find out...

....The Butterflies came!

They swarmed the Oval Office as Hex Luthor screamed for mercy.

But the Butterflies showed no mercy.

No.

No mercy did the butterflies show!

                                ===+++===

Mynabird and the Legion of Net.Villains looked up at the sky.

Butterflies!

They began to run.

But the butterflies were faster.

"Tarantula!" screamed the Taratulas.

There was no hope.


                                ===+++===

Bart the Dark Receptionist was about to read today's paper when...

....The Butterflies came!

Not even the Ring of Retconn and Insanity Gauntlet could save him.

Nothing could save him from...

The Butterflies!

                                ===+++===

"Gosh Gollickers!" Billy the Butterfly Magic Kid said as his butterfly 
friends fluttered around him.  "That was neat how you killed and 
absorbed all those bad guys powers!  What?  You're not finished!?  More 
people must die?!  But who?  The LNH?!  All of them?!  Gosh, I don't 
know about that -- but heck -- if you say so!  Let's kill them all!!" 
And Billy the Butterfly Magic Kid started to cackle in an insane manner. 
  His costume started to change colors.  No more were they the colors of 
childhood innocence.  No.  They were now black -- Black like a really 
evil person wearing black!

And his eyes and hands crackled with the color of Butterfly Magic!

It was time for the LNH to die.


                                ===+++===

"Damn!" said Irony Man.  "I told you people this was going to happen!"

                                ===+++===

Meanwhile up in Heaven...

Dr. Cool J Dog reluctantly got out of God's gigantic super hot tub 
filled with the hottest and finest naked supermodels and put on his 
bathrobe.  Dr. Cool J Dog sighed as he looked at Planet Earth.  "Well, 
Rockpettingboy, looks like me and you are going to have come back to 
life so we can save the LNH's asses once again."

Rockpettingboy just looked at Dr. Cool J Dog as he held a beer in his 
hand.  Finally he said, "Heaven's out of beer."  And then he drank 
Heaven's last beer.  He drank it till it was empty.

                                ===+++===

Arthur "Can you guess why it was rejected?" Spitzer



==========
Next Week:  Midnight.  Beige Midnight!
==========

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


More information about the racc mailing list