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Rob Rogers escapes the year 2007 to write this issue of LNH Comics Presents #503 the start of the Dead Presidents arc. Obnoxious Ame.rec.a Boy and
Skunk Girl are having a date at Arlington Net.ional Cemetery -- what could possibly go wrong I mean as long as Obnoxious Ame.rec.a Boy brought enough brains in his picnic basket to satisfy any living corpse of that happens to
be around -- they should be able to have a wonderful picnic. And if not...

*Ahem* and now...


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|_| OF NET.HEROES

ADVENTURES #211


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LNH Comics Presents #503
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From: EDMLite robrogers72 at gmail.com
Date: Mon Jun 27 13:50:37 PDT 2011

---------------------------------------------------------
When the mad Dr. Killfile threatened to destroy the
Internet -- THEY answered the call! Today, THEIR strange
and mighty powers are our last, best line of defense
against crime, disaster and unspeakable horror! THEY are
our knights in shining spandex... the LEGION OF NET.HEROES! ---------------------------------------------------------

[Cover shows Obnoxious Ame.rec.a Boy and Skunk Girl
back-to-back in a circle of shadowy, menacing arms, with
Obnoxious Ame.rec.a Boy shouting "You? It CAN'T be you!"]

Arlington, Virginia 20 February 2011 10 a.m.

Arlington Net.ional Cemetery had rarely looked as
beautiful as it did that morning. The rolling hills were
as green as they had ever been; the long rows of white
tombstones sparkled in the sun, and the air, while crisp
enough to suggest that a storm might be on the way, was
still just warm enough for a picnic.

Nevertheless, the young super-hero known as Obnoxious
Ame.rec.a Boy couldn't help but wonder if a cemetery --
even Arlington -- had been the best choice for his very
first date with Skunk Girl.

"It's... lovely," said Skunk Girl, who had chosen a
short yellow dress that perfectly complemented her black
fur. "Even the gravestones are very... historical."

Obnoxious Ame.rec.a Boy struggled to remember the
dating advice that his fellow Legionnaire, Sister State-the
-Obvious, had given him the previous evening, which now
seemed so long ago. Keep your mouth shut, she had said.
Don't focus attention on yourself. Ask her about her
interests.

"Do you... do you like history?" Obnoxious Ame.rec.a
Boy stammered.

Skunk Girl considered this. "Well, now that you
mention it, I actually..."

"Because I find it fascinating," the Chauvinistic
Crusader began. "I mean, take this place. This cemetery.
Did you know that the whole thing once belonged to the
Confederate general, Robert E. Lee? The Union general,
Montgomery C. Meigs, turned Lee's ancestral home into a
cemetery so that he and his family would forever have to
face the consequences of the war."

"Huh," Skunk Girl said, swinging her picnic basket
from side to side. "That's really..."

"But that's not what I find so inspirational about
Arlington," Obnoxious Ame.rec.a Boy said. "The real
reason I wanted to bring you here was..."

"Kennedy!" Skunk Girl gasped, dropping her basket.
"Oh my God! President John F. Kennedy!"

"That's exactly right!" Obnoxious Ame.rec.a Boy said,
pleased that the date was going so well. "Whenever I pass
by the eternal flame marking his grave, I can't help but
think that..."

"He's come back from the dead!" the Mustelid Maiden
screamed, trying desperately to draw Obnoxious Ame.rec.a
Boy's attention to the shadow that loomed behind him.

"In a sense, yes," Obnoxious Ame.rec.a Boy said. "I
don't mind telling you that it was Kennedy's inaugural
address that inspired me to want to become a super-hero.
That's what I've always admired about Kennedy: beyond his
heroism during the war, or his bravery during the Cuban
Missile Crisis, or even all of that Camelot nonsense -- his
ability to bring out the very best in others."

"HE WANTS OUR BRAINS!" Skunk Girl shouted, tugging
at Obnoxious Ame.rec.a Boy's arm.

"Exactly!" Obnoxious Ame.rec.a Boy beamed. "And our
hearts, and our spirits and...WHAT THE HELL IS THAT?!"
he gasped, as the bony, clawlike hands of the nation's
35th president clamped down upon his shoulders.

* * *


Legion of Net.Heroes Comics Presents #503:

"Dead Presidents"

By Rob Rogers

* * *
White House Situation Room, Washington.gov 12:02 p.m.

"Here's the latest status... report," Kid Recap
gasped, his face illuminated by the flickering shadows
of the dozens of television screens and monitors that
lined the walls of the Situation Room.

All but one of the screens showed members of the LNH
doing battle with the animated corpse of a former U.S.
President. On the last screen, former Presidential advisor
Karl Rove explained to an interviewer that the zombie
attacks were entirely the fault of the Democratic Party.

"Writers Block Woman and Mouse managed to keep
Zombie Thomas Jefferson and his clockwork mecha bottled
up in... Charlottesville," Kid Recap panted. "Kid Kiwi's
Kiwi Kommandoes... have prevented Zombie Dwight D.
Eisenhower from destroying a military-industrial complex
near... Abilene, Kan.sys. And the remaining members of...
Teenfactor... are holding the line against their former
mentor, Gerald Ford, near Detroit."

Kid Recap took a deep breath, wishing -- as he always
did while visiting the White House -- that the current
President, former high school gym teacher Barracks Boatman,
did not insist on his guests performing deep-knee bends and
jumping jacks during official briefings.

[Boatman became President as the result of a
typographical error in "Mister Blister and Sister-State-
the-Obvious #2 -- Footnote Girl].

He sighed. "But the battle between Drabble Girl and
Zombie Calvin Coolidge... is still a draw, as neither one
has yet to utter a word," Kid Recap said. "And there's
been no response... from either of our West Coast teams."

"Thank you, Mr. Recap. That will be all," President
Boatman said.

"Oh, thank God," Kid Recap said, leaning against one
of the monitors.

"I meant that will be all for your report. The knee
bends will continue until further notice," Boatman said.
"My God, Fearless Leader, what are we dealing with here?
What are these things? And which one of your enemies is
responsible?"

"We're not certain that one of our enemies is
responsible, Mr. President," said Fearless Leader, who
--unlike Kid Recap -- had little difficulty talking and
performing calisthenics at the same time. "They usually
prefer to attack us directly, to the extent that they
exercise any kind of strategy at all."

"Whereas these... former Chief Executives... don't
seem to be attacking anyone at all. Which is a good thing,"
said Occultism Kid. "On the other hand, they all seem to
have the ability to exercise a great deal of influence
over the living, just as they did when they were alive."

Barracks Boatman shuddered. There was something about
Occultism Kid's voice... low and dark and badly abused, like
Tom Waits might have sounded with a hangover, that made his
skin crawl.

"Terrific," Boatman said. "They told me this place was
haunted when I took the job. Didn't say anything about
zombies. Do you mean to tell me that every single former
President picked today to crawl out of his grave, and you
super-people don't have the foggiest idea why?"

Kid Recap cleared his throat. "Not every former
President, Mr. President. The... remains of William Howard
Taft have been in a secure location ever since that...
incident in Net.ropolis [in LNH Comics Presents #501 --
Footnote Girl]. And Abraham Lincoln's tomb has been sealed
in concrete since someone tried to rob it in 1876."

Occultism Kid chuckled. "That's the story they tell
to tourists," he said.

President Boatman raised an eyebrow. "And the real
story is...?"

"That Vachel Lindsay was correct: President Lincoln
really did walk at midnight. As a zombie. In 1901.
And he might be walking around today, if Theodore
Roosevelt hadn't plugged him with an enchanted weapon."

"Wait," Boatman said, holding up one hand. "You're
telling me not only that there have been zombie Presidents
before this, but that Teddy Roosevelt went around shooting
them? With a magic gun?"

"It was a dueling pistol that had belonged to Andrew
Jackson," said one of the two Secret Service agents on
either side of President Boatman. "A gift from a grateful
voodoo priestess after the Battle of New Orleans. Jackson
is said to have fought six duels with it during his
lifetime. Only two of them were against the living."

Now it was Occultism Kid's turn to look surprised.
"You certainly seem to know your history, Miss..."

"Agent," the Secret Service agent corrected, her eyes
hidden beneath jet-black sunglasses. "Agent Samantha
Edwards Baron. It's a legend within the Service. They say
it was the only time in his life that Theodore Roosevelt's
hands ever shook with fear."

"Well, this is the first good piece of news I've had
today," Boatman said, clapping Agent Baron on the back.
"We've got a gun that can kill zombies. Ought to have this
whole mess cleaned up in time for the six o'clock news."

Agent Baron turned her eyes to the ground. "I'm
afraid it won't be that easy, Mr. President. No one has
seen the Jackson weapon since the Bicentennial."

"I can find it," Occultism Kid said. "Provided you
grant me access to the Library."

"People still go to libraries these days?" Boatman
asked. "Sure, whatever. Knock yourself out."

"He means the Library of Congress, Mr. President,"
Fearless Leader said.

"No," Occultism Kid corrected. "I mean the other
Library."

"I know what he's talking about, Sir," Agent Baron
said. "But I'm not sure it's a good idea to allow..."

"Look at this!" Boatman exploded, staring at one of
the television screens. "The Republicans didn't have a
candidate before this! Now they've gone and nominated
Zombie Ronald Reagan for the 2012 campaign. You have
any idea what his poll numbers are going to be like?

"Get this man to whatever library he wants to see,"
Boatman said, shoving Agent Baron in the direction of
Occultism Kid. "And send me a dozen of my speechwriters.
Find out what Reagan has been telling the press."

"Mostly he just moans a lot, sir," another Secret
Service agent said, as Occultism Kid followed Agent
Baron out of the room.

* * *
Ronald Reagan Presidential Library
Simi Valley, California 9:30 a.m.

"I don't get it," said Cynical Lass, as she and
Special Bonding Boy struggled to lift a replica of the
MX Missile from its display stand within the Reagan
Presidential Library. "Guy's older than dirt and a
bigger prat than Margaret Thatcher. I never understood
what you Ame.rec.ans liked about Ronald Reagan."

"It's...oof...an emotional thing," said Special
Bonding Boy, glancing over his shoulder at the hordes of
people -- what seemed to be the entire population of Simi
Valley -- surging toward them in blue suits and red ties.
"I was just a kid at the time, but even I remember feeling
just a little bit better every time Reagan appeared on
television. He gave Ame.rec.a its confidence back at a
time when we really needed it."

"Bombs away!" Cynical Lass shouted, as she and Special
Bonding Boy rolled the fake missile toward the surging
crowd of Reagan thralls, all of whom had attacked the two
heroes the moment they had refused to sign an anti-tax
pledge.

A few of the attackers fled from the rolling bomb,
while the others merely waited for it to pass before moving
forward.

"Run!" Special Bonding Boy said, as Cynical Lass
clobbered two well-dressed Reaganites with a chunk of the
Berlin Wall.

"But really," said Cynical Lass, as the two heroes
scrambled through gallery after gallery of Reagan
memorabilia, with the chattering crowd always close at
hand, "does the fact that he made you feel better about
yourselves take away the fact that he sold guns to Iran,
and used the money to pay right-wing thugs in Nicaragua?
Or that he more or less ignored the AIDS epidemic?"

The two emerged into a vast chamber, with a wall of
glass looking out into the grassy hills of Simi Valley.
Below them -- three stories below them -- sat the massive
frame of one of President Reagan's Air Force One jets.
To the left, suspended from the ceiling by steel cables,
hung a Marine helicopter.

"Let's go!" Special Bonding Boy said, putting one arm
around Cynical Lass' waist, grabbing the edge of the
helicopter with his other hand, and leaping out into space.
The steel cables groaned, the helicopter buckled... and the
two heroes swung halfway across the room, finally tumbling
onto the roof of the 747.

"You really ought to warn me the next time you're
going to do that," Cynical Lass said, rising to her feet.

"Did you have a better idea?" Special Bonding Boy
said, sliding across the aluminum surface to one of the
jet's wings. Above him, dozens of frustrated Reaganites
began to surge toward the stairs, chanting "There you go
again! There you go again!"

Cynical Lass followed him down the wing, then
searched the area for an exit -- or, barring that, a place
where the two of them could make a stand. She gasped in
astonishment.

"An Irish pub?" she said. "What kind of a world leader
puts an Irish pub in his presidential museum?"

"Nobody needs to put an Irish pub anywhere," Special
Bonding Boy said, running towards the bar. "They just
spring up like dandelions. It's true. I've seen it."

"Look," he said, clapping a hand over Cynical Lass'
mouth just as she was about to speak. "I know you're about
to say something awful about Ronald Reagan. And I'll
probably agree with you. I've studied his presidency, and
building that Irish bar up ahead is probably the only thing
he ever authorized that I can stomach."

Cynical Lass wrenched his hand away from her face.
"Then why do you keep defending him?" she asked.

"Because being a President isn't always about policy,"
Special Bonding Boy said. "Sometimes it's about
personality. Look, my power is all about creating 'special
bonding moments' between small groups of people. Reagan
was able to do that for the entire country. He made
people believe in themselves, even as they believed in..."

Special Bonding Boy began to pitch forward, clutching
his head.

"What's wrong?" Cynical Lass asked, and then looked
ahead to where Zombie Ronald Reagan sat at the bar: eyes
sunken, skin withered and shrunken, hair still moussed
into a perfect permanent wave. He raised his glass to
the pair, and Special Bonding Boy shuddered.

"I can't... can't resist him," Special Bonding Boy
said. "His...boundless optimism...too compelling..."

"Fight it, Special Bonding Boy! Think of what
Reaganomics did to the economy!" Cynical Lass cried, as
the Legion's Harbinger of Hallmark Moments writhed in
agony. "Think of his ties to the Moral Majority! For God's
sake, think of what he did to unions! To the environment!"

"IT'S TOO LATE," Special Bonding Boy hissed, and
Cynical Lass noted to her horror that his Legion uniform had
been replaced by a blue suit and red power tie. "THE DAY OF
THE LIBERAL HAS PASSED. THE DAY OF THE LIVING HAS PASSED."

Special Bonding Boy grinned, as Zombie Reagan and his
army of followers formed a circle around Cynical Lass, their
arms reaching out to her as they drew closer.

"NOW, AT LAST," Special Bonding Boy said, "IT'S
MIDNIGHT IN AME.REC.A."

* * *

NEXT ISSUE: Particle Man, Particle Man. James K. Polk
hates Particle Man. They have a fight...

---------------------------------------------------------

LEGION ROLL CALL:

Barracks Boatman and Teenfactor.... Tom Russell

Cynical Lass.... Rob Rogers

Drabble Girl, Writers Block Woman and Mouse
....Jessica Ihimaera-Smiler

Fearless Leader.... Dave Van Domelen

Footnote Girl.... Saxon Brenton

Kid Kiwi's Kiwi Kommandoes.... Descrii

Kid Recap and Occultism Kid.... Josh Geurink

Obnoxious Ame.rec.a Boy.... Jamas Enright

Sister State-the-Obvious and Special Bonding Boy
....wReam

Skunk Girl.... Ted "Phantasm" Brock


"I looked at a Lincoln, can't park my car
Washington, he don't go too far
Jefferson is good, to play at the track
You think you're gonna bring them big fish back

Them dead presidents
Them dead presidents
Well now I ain't broke, I'm barely spent
Everybody lovin' them dead presidents..."

--The J. Geils Band

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==========
Next Week: More Dead Presidents!
==========

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

--- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05
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