NTB/LNH: Classic LNH Adventures #232: LNH vII #57 and Another LNH Title? Really? #1

Arthur Spitzer arspitzer2 at gmail.com
Sun Feb 6 13:28:54 PST 2022

You can sift through the racc list archive
or you can try google groups racc for these LNH and NTB stories.

And we have another Misanthropic Tales of the NTB edition of LNH vII by Saxon
Brenton!  #57!  This one stars The Ring Job and is set during the Christmas
Time.  Will there be any references to Five Golden Rings -- or will Saxon
disappoint all the Partridge in a Pear Tree Heads out there?

And we also have Another LNH Title? Really?  Really!  This one is the first
issue by me (Arthur Spitzer).  The Ultimate Ninja finally gets a cape!  But
is it by his own free will -- or are there sinister forces that are forcing
him to wear a cape?  And what will Can-Handle-Any-Type-of-Change-Except-For-
The-Ultimate-Ninja-Wearing-a-Cape Lad think of all this?

Find out in...

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

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

                                    ADVENTURES #232

               LNH vII #57 and Another LNH Title? Really? #1

From: Saxon Brenton saxonbrenton at hotmail.com
Date: Mon Dec 30 18:55:36 PST 2013

[NTB/LNH/HCC] Legion of Net.Heroes Volume 2 #57
This issue of 
  [] egion of              
  []__ [] []   []  []      
  [___][ \[]et.[]__[]eroes  Volume 2 #57
       []\ ]   [ __ ]      
       [] []   []  []   
has *once again* been highjacked to present another of the 
                     MISANTHROPIC TALES
                          OF THE 
                   NET.TRENCHCOAT BRIGADE
'Merry File-System-Checking Christmas'
featuring Ring Job
written by and copyright 2013 Saxon Brenton
for the 41st High Concept Challenge
[Acraphobe content warning: This story is has a Net.Trenchcoat Brigade 
label and is therefore implied Acraphobe.]
     24th December. Christmas Eve.  
     Ring Job slumped on the lounge, exhausted.  It had been a busy 
week.  Hells, it had been a busy year.  What he really wanted to do 
was grab a bottle of scotch and drink things off.  But...
     Okay, I'm going to start off with an assumption here, but... Do 
you remember those times when you've left your Christmas shopping 
to the last moment, and you've really wanted to just let the whole 
thing slide, but there was crippling sense of guilt that this was 
something that had to be done?
     Right then.  So, that *WASN'T* like what Ring Job was feeling.
     As a professional anarchist dedicated to raising humanity's 
consciousness, Ring Job had rather different set of priorities than 
mere familial bonds, and certainly a far wider obligation than buying 
presents for friends and family so that you didn't have some fossilised 
old great aunt looking down her nose at you.  
     Ring Job reached out and picked up the scotch bottle and held 
it up to the light.  A golden brown colour filtered through the whiskey. 
Richly hued, and warmly coloured.  Warm and fuzzy.  Just like the 
thinking of most of humanity.  Poor stupid bastards.
     The Trenchcoater took a swig straight from the bottle, then put 
it down so that he could pick up a Namahage mask.  It was part of 
costume for the Japanese festival where men in masks would try to scare 
children into obedience and social conformity.  Which was just so 
typically bloody Japanese that it made you want to hit someone over the 
head with a chair leg of Truth.  But if you did that then you'd have to 
stop off over in central Europe and hit a few more people because of 
Krampus, and then...  Well, you'd never stop, now would you?
     On the other hand, if the esoterrorists didn't do this, who would?  
If people stopped caring... or more to the point, stopped caring about 
the *right things*.  Well then, it wouldn't be long before the archons 
of order had humanity completely in their thrall, and the Lameness 
would have won.
     He continued to look at the mask.  It was a symbol for a ritual, of 
course.  Every action was, when you got right down to it.  Even scaring 
little kids to try and get them to behave.  Still, this Namahage mask... 
this one was special.  Ring Job had specially modified it so that he 
could wear it upside down.
     He put on the mask.
     And besides, it would give him the excuse to be a foul mouthed, 
chain smoking, hard drinking bastard, and that was always a lot of fun.
     21st December.  
     Third task: Defying authority.
     Ring Job's ribs were still smarting from his run-in with YNHMHELad. 
Fortunately the final task wasn't particularly strenuous.  All he needed 
to do was pretend to making chalk drawings on the pavement, but even so 
that required him to kneel down from time to time.
     After a few moments he stood up again and looked at the painted 
canvas that he had rolled out on the sidewalk, as if admiring his work.  
To an extent he was, but it was something he'd prepared a while ago, 
at home, with the luxury of time and space and carefully calibrated 
thaumaturgic measurements to lay out the picture.  All he was doing 
tonight was tracing over the existing patterns with some coloured chalk 
while waiting for the right victim to turn up.
     "A bit wet for chalk drawings, isn't it?"  asked a passing cop.
     Ring Job glanced at the sky.  "Aye, a bit," he said.  "I'll 
pr'bably have to pack it in soon."  Then he looked back at the canvas 
again and smiled.  "Still, she's a beauty, ain't she?"
     The cop followed the direction of his gaze, saw the canvas, and was 
caught.  The colours glowed - in fact the entire picture pulsed with an 
interior light.
     And then, while the man was staring enthralled at the picture, Ring 
Job deftly reached over and stole the gun from his holster and then 
ambled off into the crowd.
     22nd December.
     Second task: The gift that means nothing.
     It was evening.  Ring Job opened the skylight to the Hollywood 
warehouse and then tested the rope and harness that he planned to use to 
lower himself down to the floor below.  There was no magically symbolic 
need to enter the warehouse this way - and the security on the doors was 
pretty mediocre in any case, to be honest - but Ring Job just liked the 
Mission Impossible style entrances.
     He clambered through the skylight and began to inch his way towards 
the floor.  Once he'd finished his descent he unclipped his harness and 
began to look around with a flashlight.
     Around him were the props used in thousands of Hollywood films and 
TV shows.  Bits and pieces of furniture and decoration for whatever 
scene of whichever type of show was required.  None of them were 
particularly valuable in-and-of themselves, instead having value only 
to particular fans who would care enough to remember that such-and-such 
an item was used for such-and-such a story.  Which was pretty much the 
whole point of his being here...
     The Trenchcoater glanced around.  Okay, here were the shelves with 
various empty boxes, just like his informants said they should be.  And 
the one he wanted should be right here...  Yeah...
     The tiny box was empty of course.  But that was okay, because it 
had been empty when it had appeared in 'Mork's First Christmas'.  Sure, 
the dialogue had *said* it had contained homemade presents of hand 
painted flies, but there hadn't been any close up shot and in any case 
the purported flies had been forgotten when the eponymous alien had 
learned that mere material things weren't the point of giving Christmas 
     So.  An empty box, that had only pretended to hold something, 
which had represented a useless gift for fictional people who would 
learn better.  It was absolutely perfect.
     Ring Job quickly encased the box in some bubble wrap and stowed it 
away for safe keeping.  He was just about make his departure when a 
stentorian voice declaimed, "Halt villain!"
     Dear crap on a stick.  It was a net.hero.  Some gaudily dressed 
half wit whose idea of crime fighting was to stand about, arms akimbo, 
and make like a target to draw gunfire.
     More from reflex than anything Ring Job ducked for cover behind a 
row of shelves, and peered about at both the costumed hero and for any 
obvious escape routes.  He saw the net.hero slam his arm against the 
side of a steel beam, leaving a dent in the metal, and making Ring Job 
wonder if this was one of the violent 90s style antiheroes who loved 
gratuitous property damage.  Then the hero announced, "Surrender!  I, 
You're-Not-Hitting-Me-Hard-Enough Lad, am taking you in!" before 
leaping forward with a superhuman bound.
     Ring Job jumped back out of the way behind yet another set of 
shelving, just in time to avoid having YNHMHELad slam into the first 
and topple it over.  However he wasn't able to avoid the partial domino 
effect that sent the first shelf collapsing into the second, making it 
lean at an alarming angle but not fully collapse, and in the process 
causing some quite heavy props fall on top of him.  The Trenchcoater 
hunched down with his arm raised over himself, managing to protect his 
head even as heavy items bounced off his torso.  Ring Job fell to the 
floor, his mask skidding away into the shadows to get lost among the 
scattered bric a brac.  Man did his chest hurt.
     Ring Job didn't have time for this.  No, seriously.  Even for a 
time travelling anarchist, he was in the middle of a complicated magical 
ritual, and the high entropy phenomena associated with superhuman fight 
scenes was something that he hadn't factored in.  He needed to get out 
of here.  So he extemporised.
     "You fool!" he exclaimed.  "You cannot stop the might of Dr Upside-
Down Face!"  But even as he was saying this he was breaking costumed 
superhuman protocol by using the speech as a distraction rather than an 
introduction and challenge, and had whipped out a signal flare and let 
it off in YNHMHELad's face.  The net.hero seemed to be invulnerable, so 
it shouldn't do much more than dazzle his night vision.
     Then Ring Job ran for it.  He even tried to keep the impromptu 
cover he had created for himself by throwing in an obligatory villainous 
"Bwa-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!", but his ribs hurt too much for him to be able to 
pull it off properly.
     23rd December. 
     First task: Personal sacrifice.
     Now that he'd committed himself Ring Job moved with deliberation.  
He went to a mirror and took off the Nagahame mask (even though for 
magical purposes he was still wearing it) and looked at his rings.  
Almost every bit of Ring Job's exposed flesh had a piercing.  They 
all had some purpose.  Many of them had a symbolic meaning, and quite 
a few of them had some sort of special power.
     He selected one of them and removed it from the skin on his scalp 
behind his ear.  It was an old ring, forged of adamantine by the 
cyclopses before the rise of Zeus and his overthrow of the Titanomachy 
of Cronos.  Ring Job held it up and announced, "Th' ring represents th' 
rings of Saturn: Keeping the Saturn in Saturnalia."
     Then he put the ring down and went to get the box that didn't 
have flies in it.
     24th December. Christmas eve again.
     Ring Job arrived home, moderately pleased.  As anarchistic jaunts 
went that had been short but productive, even if it had also been a bit 
too linear.  Still, what did you expect when you had to get a gift at 
the last minute?  Sometimes you didn't have time for anything elaborate.
     He poured himself a glass of scotch and waited for the final 
seconds to count down to midnight, then held up his drink in salute and 
announced, "A merry Christmas t' all, and t' all a good night!" before 
throwing the full glass into the fireplace and causing an explosion of 
flame that was disproportionately oversized compared to the alcohol 
content.  Especially when you realised that the fireplace hadn't been lit.
     And the next day, pretty much everybody around the planet got some 
little thing that - on a deeply metaphysical level - they needed, even 
if they didn't particularly want it and maybe even could have really done 
without it on a practical level.  Just because it was good didn't mean 
it had to be nice.
     But in the meantime Ring Job had gone to bed.  He was tired, and 
besides, his ribs hurt.
Character credits:
  Ring Job created by Arthur Spitzer.  Used with permission.  First 
appeared in _An On the Deadbeat Special: Beige Happy Hour!_.  
  You're-Not-Hitting-Me-Hard-Enough Lad also created by Arthur Spitzer,  
and is Free For Use.
Author's note:
     Written for the 41st High Concept Challenge: 'Christmas with all 
its ancient horrors is on us again'.
     Huh, well what do you know.  A 'Misanthropic Tales...' story 
starring a Brigade member who's actually appeared in a story within the 
past half decade, rather than being dredged out of the original _Wrath 
Of The Administrator_ cascade or the NTB FAQ.
     Actually, the main reason for this story is because I initially 
thought that we were lacking in an entry for the NTB imprint in the 
list of Looniverse RACCies eligibles for 2013.  However feedback on 
the first posting of that list in early December, plus double checking 
subject headers, indicates that this is wrong.  So now we're simply 
having another NTB story for... uhm... for the Net.Trenchcoat Brigades' 
20th anniversary.
Saxon Brenton   University of Technology, city library, Sydney Australia 
     saxon.brenton at uts.edu.au     saxonbrenton at hotmail.com 
"These 'no-nonsense' solutions of yours just don't hold water in a complex 
world of jet-powered apes and time-travel." - Superman, JLA Classified #3 	

From: Arthur Spitzer arspitzer at earthlink.net
Date: Fri Mar 1 09:02:55 PST 2013

[Cover:  Large Bold Letters on the Side -- 'Because No One Demanded It 
-- The Ultimate Ninja Gets a Cape!!'  The Ultimate Ninja stands 
majestically on the cover with a cape flowing in the wind behind him. 
Two freaked out cops shoot at him.  A thought balloon hangs above one of 
the cops with the words, 'This scene isn't in this issue -- which is a 

The Looniverse (Classic Flavor) --
The Loonivearth --
The Loonited States of America --
Net.ropolis --
The Legion of Net.Heroes Headquarters --
The Lobby --
The Desk --
The Chair Next to the Desk --
The Time -- Now!  (Unless you're reading it later -- Then Not Now!)

There was a man sitting at a desk.  A man who was a receptionist.  A man 
named Fred.  He was the receptionist for the elite group of super heroes 
called the Legion of Net.Heroes -- the greatest heroes in the Looniverse 
(at least that's what it says in one of their brochures).  And he was 
reading a magazine.  It was the latest issue of 'Receptionists Reading 
Magazines Weekly'.  And he was mesmerized by an article in it entitled 
-- 'The Top Ten most comfortable chairs for reading magazines'.  And 
then something broke his concentration.  It was a whistle.

Fred had been a receptionist for years and had honed his ignoring 
everything around him skills to their highest levels, but try as he may 
-- he could not ignore this whistling.  There was something wrong about 
it.  Like it was whistling that came from someone that shouldn't really 
be whistling.  Finally, he lowered his magazine enough so he could see 
who was whistling.

No, thought Fred as he saw who was making annoying noise.  It can't be! 
  But it was.

It was his boss.  The leader of the LNH.  The one and only Ultimate 
Ninja.  The master of every martial art and fighting technique.  And he 
was whistling.  Whistling!

And there was something else wrong.  What was it?  Something different. 
  And then he realized what it was.

"UN?  That thing around you -- around your neck," said a horrified Fred, 
"It's -- it's...!"

"Yes," said the Ultimate Ninja with a serene look in his eyes, "It's a 
-- Cape."

           A  N  O  T  H  E  R    L  N  H    T  I  T  L  E  ?

                      R  E  A  L  L  Y  ?     #  1

                     'The Ultimate Ninja's Cape!'

"Is this some kind of midlife crisis thing?  UN?" said the chief LNH 
cook and long time friend to the Ultimate Ninja -- the Man who can eat 
any cheesecake -- Any cheesecake!  He was the man known as Cheesecake 
Eater Lad.  And he had concern in his eyes.

"I'm fine," said the Ultimate Ninja lightly brushing his cape with his 
fingers.  "Never been better."

"But this -- this cape," said Cheesecake Eater Lad, "Why?  It makes no 
sense!  Aren't you worried about how this will affect your fighting...?"

The Ultimate Ninja shook his head.  "I fight even better with the cape. 
  It's just a cape.  Batman has a cape."

"Batman?" said Cheesecake Eater Lad blinking his eyes.  "Batman's not real!"

"Ultie, Ultie, Ultie -- Sweetie," said the long time LNH'r Catalyst Lass 
gently touching the Ultimate Ninja's arm, "Why don't you just look in a 
mirror for a bit.  Just a bit.  Take a deep breath.  And just think to 
yourself -- Is this what I really what?  Is it?"

The Ultimate Ninja resisting her abilities glared back at her.  "This is 
what I want.  I've never wanted anything more!"

Sarcastic Lad looked at the Ultimate Ninja and thought about saying 
something and then muttered to himself, "Nah, too easy.  Too easy," 
before leaving the lobby.

"Hell, yes!" said Bad Judgment Boy giving the Ultimate Ninja the thumbs 
up.  "Finally read my suggestions in the suggestion box about how you 
should wear a cape.  Looking good!  Now all you need is a headband!"

"Umm.  It's just a cape," said Fearless Leader, the LNH's second in 
command, sipping his mug of coffee.  "Shouldn't we be dealing with more 
*important* matters?"

"No!!!!!!  Can't handle this!!!!  Can't!!!!!" screamed 
Lad with his fingers pressed firmly against his temples.  "The Ultimate 
Ninja is Ruined!!  Ruined Forever!!!!!"  And then he passed out from 
Ultimate Ninja Wearing a Cape poisoning.

"Okay.  That's Enough," said the Ultimate Ninja gripping his Ginsu 
Katana tightly.  "I'm wearing this cape.  That's it.  End of Discussion. 
  And I don't care if everyone hates it.  I don't.  If you can't deal 
with this -- then tough.  This is the way it is now.  I'm wearing a 
cape.  The cape stays!"

And someone began to cackle.  An evil sort of cackle.  A mysterious 
figure stepped from the shadows -- dressed in a black costume.  In the 
center of the costume was a white circle.  And within that circle was a 
picture of the Ultimate Ninja.  An Ultimate Ninja wearing a cape.

"You never thought this day would happen -- did you, LNH?" said the 
mysterious costumed man.  "Maybe in your worst nightmares you dreamed of 
this day.  Maybe you thought something like this could only happen in 
some Elsewhirl -- like an Elsewhirl called, 'What If the Ultimate Ninja 
Wore a Cape?'  Something like that.  But this is not a dream.  No.  This 
is not an Elsewhirl!  No Imaginary Story!  Or Hoax!!  This is Real. 
This is Completely Real.  This is The Realest Thing Ever!!  Yes!!  This 
is in Continuity!!  Completely Canon!!  This is Actually Happening!! 
Look, LNH!  Look at the Ultimate Ninja!!  He's wearing a cape!  A 
cape!!! And there is nothing you can do about it!!!!!!"

"NO!!!!!" shrieked Coward Lad running from the lobby as fast as he 
could.  Coward Lad had had more than his fair share of Ultimate Ninja 
wearing a Cape nightmares and wasn't about to relive another one.

"Okay," said the Ultimate Ninja.  "I don't know who this idiot is, but 
I'm not wearing this cape because I'm under mind control.  I'm doing 
this because I want to wear a cape.  I want to wear a cape.  Capes are 

"Hahah!!  Yes!!  Capes are cool!!" laughed the mysterious figure.  "You 
see, LNH?  He's totally under my power.  My power -- to make him wear a 
cape!!  And no matter how hard he tries -- no matter how hard -- he 
can't break free.  No.  He can't break free from -- Dr. 

"Where villains like Dr. Killfile, Acton Lord, Tsar Chasm, Hex Luthor, 
and others failed to get the Ultimate Ninja to wear a cape..."

"Actually," said Nit-Pick Lad, "I don't think any of those guys ever 
actually tried to..."

"...I have succeeded!!" laughed Dr. 
Can-Make-The-Ultimate-Ninja-Wear-a-Cape.  "It has been a long journey 
here.  I have toiled long hours for this day.  I who mastered the purest 
science.  The Science of Making-The-Ultimate-Ninja-Wear-a-Cape-ology!!! 
  Now the fruits of my work has blossomed and..."

"That's not how that works..." said Organic Lass.

"...And I have won!  And there is nothing you can do about it, LNH.  No. 
  Somewhere right now a child is being born.  And this child will never 
know a day -- never know a single day when the Ultimate Ninja doesn't 
wear a cape.  Every single day for the rest of this child's life will be 
days of a cape wearing Ultimate Ninja.  And this will be true for all 
children born today and every day afterwards.  This is the beginning. 
The beginning of the Age.  The Ultimate Ninja Wears a Cape Age!!  And 
this Age won't end.  It will keep going and going and going.  People 
will soon forget that there was ever an age where the Ultimate Ninja 
didn't wear a cape.  Yes.  Stars will be born and die -- and the 
Ultimate Ninja will wear a cape.  Galaxies will be born and die -- and 
the Ultimate Ninja will wear a cape!

"The Looniverse will not end in a Bang.  It will not end in a Whimper. 
No.  It will end with the Ultimate Ninja -- Wearing a Cape!!  This is 
the Future, LNH!!!  The Future!!!  And you can't stop it!!  No.  No!!! 
You can't!!!! This is the day The Mighty LNH finally loses!  And the day 
where Dr. Can-Make-The-Ultimate-Ninja-Wear-a-Cape finally wins!!  This 
is the Day!!  This is the Day!!!  And there is nothing you can do. 

"NOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!" roared Knife Fight Dude as he rushed towards Dr. 
Can-Make-The-Ultimate-Ninja-Wear-a-Cape tackling him to the ground.  And 
then he plunged his big ass knife several times into the body of Dr. 
Can-Make-The-Ultimate-Ninja-Wear-a-Cape.  Eventually a couple of LNH'rs 
dragged a bloody Knife Fight Dude off of the corpse of Dr. 

The Ultimate Ninja looked at the corpse of Dr. 
Can-Make-The-Ultimate-Ninja-Wear-a-Cape.  And then at his cape -- and 
then back again at the corpse.  And using his ninja cape throwing 
abilities -- he threw the cape into the nearest wastebasket.

And then he looked at his fellow LNH'rs.  "We are never ever going to 
speak about this again.  Ever."

                          *** *** *** ***


Fred the Receptionist -- Ken Schmidt
Ultimate Ninja -- wReam
Cheesecake Eater Lad -- Matthew Jotham Millheiser.
Catalyst Lass -- Elisabeth Riba
Sarcastic Lad -- The Saint
Fearless Leader -- Dave Van Domelen
Organic Lass -- Rebecca Drayer
Nit-Pick Lad -- ????
Coward Lad -- Tom Russell
Bad Judgment Boy, 
Lad, Knife Fight Dude, and Dr. Can-Make-The-Ultimate-Ninja-Wear-a-Cape 
-- Arthur Spitzer

Writer's Notes:

And lo there was another LNH Title.

Would've probably just made this another LNH vII issue, but since Andrew 
has a multi-part story going there and I wasn't sure if there was an 
issue 510 for LNHCP or if someone was reserving that issue because 
Adrian wrote 510.5.  Regardless, I decided to create this new title.

Anyone can write for this series, although I would ask that you only 
write self-contained stories for this title.

I don't know if anyone has ever described the Ultimate Ninja as wearing 
a cape before, but I always assumed he went capeless.  Doesn't really 
seem like something he'd wear.

Arthur "No Cape" Spitzer

Next Week:  Something LNH related -- I suppose?

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

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