• LNH: Classic LNH Adventures #185: Beige Midnight Part Twenty-One (1/2)

    From Arthur Spitzer@21:1/5 to All on Sun Jan 24 21:16:07 2021
    You can sift through the racc list archive https://lists.eyrie.org/pipermail/racc/
    or you can try google groups racc for the twenty-first part of Beige Midnight.

    Here's the second quarter of issue #7 -- 'The Mountain Top' by me (Arthur Spitzer). Will Bart stand over a mountain of LNH corpses? Will Contraption Man's team make it to the right point in Qwerty's past to activate Bart's Freedom Chip? And will General Honiboni not over use his headache reducer light?



    Find out that and more in...


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    |_| OF NET.HEROES

    ADVENTURES #185


    =====================
    Beige Midnight Part Twenty-One
    =====================





    Beginning of Part II

    **** <<--BM-->> ****


    You're-Not-Hitting-Me-Hard-Enough Lad looked at the mound of LNH
    corpses. He looked at the bodies of Pulls-Paper-out-of-Hats Lad and
    Namer Boy. His two best friends. Both dead. Dead. It seemed so
    surreal. This couldn't be happening. Someone killing 100 members of
    the LNH -- just like that? That stuff only happened in the Elsewhirls.
    He looked at Bart -- just floating in the air. He was going to pay
    for this -- he was going to... You're-Not-Hitting-Me-Hard-Enough Lad
    looked at his clenched fist. Gotta provoke him somehow. Gotta get him
    to hit me. And then maybe I can do something, thought You're-Not-Hitting-Me-Hard-Enough Lad.

    "Hey, Bart!!" shouted You're-Not-Hitting-Me-Hard-Enough Lad. "Yeah, you
    lame loser!!! I'm talking to you!! Your style of fighting is pretty
    pathetic and cowardly, but I guess that shouldn't surprise anyone since
    you're a text book case to the 'T'. Yeah, Bart! I know what your
    biggest problem is..."

    "Do tell, Long-name-I-can't-bother-to-remember Lad."

    "Well, it's pretty obvious. It always is obvious. You've never been
    laid in your entire life and are very bitter about that fact. It's
    always the same thing. School shooters. Suicide bombers. Militia
    nuts. Hitler. If only they had had the courage to ask out some girl,
    or boy -- or farm animal -- then the world would be a so -- so much
    better place. Alas, for us -- they didn't have that courage. You were probably picked on lot when you were little, right? Oh hell, probably
    all through school. But you were too much of a weakling to fight back.
    That's a shame. And now that you've gathered all of this God type
    power -- it doesn't really matter -- does it? Because you're still just
    a pathetic weakling coward, aren't you? I bet you," You're-Not-Hitting-Me-Hard-Enough Lad laughed, "I bet you can't even
    fight me. Too much of a coward to hit me. Right? Yeah, I'm right.
    Sad, really. Come on. Come on, prove me wrong -- Bart. Hit me. Hit
    me! Hit me!! Come on -- you pathetic cowardly Mama's boy waste of life
    -- HIT ME!!!!!!!"

    Bart clapped his hands. "Ah, you're wasted here, Long-name-I-can't-bother-to-remember Lad. You should take your
    brilliant pop psychology act on Oprah or something since you obviously
    know 'so' much about the human condition. As for fighting you -- aw,
    sorry, but I promised my Mommy that I'd never hit a person who's dying
    from a speedy malignant brain tumor. Sorry about that."

    "Dying of what -- oh." You're-Not-Hitting-Me-Hard-Enough Lad felt a
    sharp pain in his head. His last thought was, No Fair. No Fair.


    **** <<--BM-->> ****

    Suddenly, a cartoonish symbolic incandescent light bulb (representing a
    great idea) appeared above Saxon-Brenton-Will-Write-the-Brother-of-So-Lame-Even-Saxon-Brenton- Wouldn't-Use-Him-In-A-Story-Lad-When-Hell-Freezes-Over
    Lad's head. Of course, thought Saxon-Brenton-Will-Write-the-Brother-of-So-Lame-Even-Saxon-Brenton- Wouldn't-Use-Him-In-A-Story-Lad-When-Hell-Freezes-Over
    Lad (thank god for copy and paste), It was so obvious! He had figured
    it out. A way to defeat Bart. The one weakness everyone else had
    overlooked. But it was so simple! Yes, it was me, Saxon-Brenton-Will-Write-the-Brother-of-So-Lame-Even-Saxon-Brenton- Wouldn't-Use-Him-In-A-Story-Lad-When-Hell-Freezes-Over
    Lad, who discovered it. Yes! And now when Saxon Brenton watches me
    defeat Bart won't he be sorry that he ever found me and every single
    generation of my entire superhero family and all our pets and also our
    close friends too lame to include in even just one of his precious
    stories. Watch me, Saxon Brenton. I dare you to watch me!!!!

    But just as
    Saxon-Brenton-Will-Write-the-Brother-of-So-Lame-Even-Saxon-Brenton- Wouldn't-Use-Him-In-A-Story-Lad-When-Hell-Freezes-Over
    Lad rushed his way over to finally defeat Bart once and for all he
    accidentally slipped on a Juproppian stlang fruit peel (sort of the
    Qwertian equivalent of a banana) and dashed his brains out on a jagged rock.

    And somewhere beyond the Fourth Wall, Saxon Brenton was less than impressed.


    **** <<--BM-->> ****


    Bart watched a flash from the sky. Using his ability to slow down time,
    he realized that the flash was in fact Captain Continuity. "Back for
    second helpings, Champy Jr?" laughed Bart. "How far did I fling you
    that first time -- a couple light years? Thought you'd get here a bit
    quicker -- I mean while you were strolling back here I must have killed
    at least -- I dunno..." Bart paused and began counting his fingers. New fingers on his hand began to emerge until there were 53 fingers on his
    left hand. "Oh, yes. 53. I killed 53 more of your LNH'r buddies while
    you were napping out in space." He gestured towards the mound of dead
    LNH'r bodies that kept getting larger and larger. "What would your old
    mentor Continuity Champ think about that? He'd probably be very
    disappointed. And I can't say that I'd blame him. It's kind of a shame
    he isn't here. He'd show us a thing about saving the Looniverse, I'm
    sure. Why he'd probably defeat me in less than five seconds. And then
    I'm pretty sure he'd use his Awesome Continuity French Kissing Abilities
    (or whatever) to tongue back life into all of your dead LNH buddies.
    And he'd probably top it all off by rescuing a kitten from a tree.
    Because that's what heroes do, Champy Jr. They save the day."

    "SHUTUP!!!!!" screamed Captain Continuity as he walloped Bart in jaw
    with enough power to cause a star to go supernova. Unfortunately, it
    didn't seem to have any effect on Bart who still had a smirk on his
    face. In fact its only real effect was to break some bones in Captain Continuity's hand causing him enormous amounts of pain.

    "Feel better? No? Guess you already know that your powers are
    incredibly insignificant compared to mine. I could easily kill you at
    anytime. But that would be boring, wouldn't it? I know you're thinking
    about it. You've been thinking about it ever since you saw it. Yeah, I
    can see it. I mean you saved the entire Looniverse once with it. Why
    not again?"

    Captain Continuity hated to admit it, but Bart was right. He had been
    thinking about it. While one eye of his was carefully focused on Bart,
    the other was pointed towards the burlap sack. The burlap sack that had
    the Ring of Retconn. The burlap sack that was so incredibly close. He
    had worn it a long time ago, when he was just a kid -- a kid named
    Continuity Champ Jr. He had used it to stop wReamicus Maximus from
    destroying the Looniverse and used it to heal all of the damage that had
    been inflicted with it.

    "It was a great feeling, wasn't it? When you were wearing it? You felt
    like God. And you've always regretted taking it off. Maybe if you
    could have just kept wearing it all those horrible things that happened
    to the LNH after Retcon Hour would have never happened. Maybe all of
    those LNH'rs that died would still be alive. Like that Generation Y
    teammate of yours -- what was his name? Oh, yeah -- Echo Echo Echo Lad.
    Maybe he'd still be alive if only you had kept wearing the Ring. And
    lets face it, if you don't wear it I'm going to kill you and every
    single other LNH'r on Qwerty. That's a promise."

    "Did you know it takes a sliver of your soul? Yes, you know that. It
    has a sliver of my soul and every other being that has ever worn the
    Ring. You can finally be complete once again. Of course now that I'm
    thinking about it, it probably wouldn't be enough. No. You'd probably
    need to wear the Insanity Gauntlet too. Of course that probably
    wouldn't be enough either. There's still that whole, I can't be
    defeated by any hero thing. Oh wait, I've got it! After you put on the
    cosmic thingees you could kill some LNH'rs to prove that you're evil.
    Yeah! And then maybe you'd have a chance at beating me. No wait. I
    forgot about the whole being resistant to cosmic stuff. Oh hell, tell
    you what -- if you put on the ring and the gauntlet and kill at least
    five LNH'rs then I'll happily lift my whole resistance to cosmic stuff.
    Sound good?"

    "You know, Bart, I think you might have been saner with the Gauntlet. I
    mean you must be completely nuts if you think there's any chance in hell
    that I'd kill anyone just to amuse you. You're right though that I was thinking about putting the ring. But after listening to you rant and
    rave -- I can thank you for knocking some sense into me. No. I'm not
    going to become a monster to defeat you. There will always be better
    ways to stop the likes of you."

    "Ah, that's a shame. Perhaps I should call you Christy Jr. instead?
    Well, looks like it's dead LNH'r time again." Bart snapped his fingers.
    Captain Continuity was now nailed to a floating red cross high in the
    sky. "The cross is made of pure Retcotheric Energy -- yeah, I know that
    you're highly resistant to it -- but not to the levels that are in the
    cross. I mean this baby has like a billion Retcon Rings of power. It's
    going to kill you. Don't worry, it won't be quick. You'll have plenty
    of time to watch me kill the rest of your teammates as you futilely try
    to escape -- every second an even worse agony. Cheers!"

    As this was happening a very badly beaten Ultimate Ninja was silently
    crawling towards Bart. Every movement was torture, every bone in his
    body was broken. He had countless cuts on every part of his skin. Just
    a few more inches. Just another inch. And then he'd strike.

    But right as he was about to do that, Bart turned around. "I thought I
    heard the complete absence of noise. Well, you actually defeated my
    little pinky. That -- well actually that should have been impossible considering my pinky was nearly omnipotent. I'd ask you how you did it,
    but I known you ninjas like your secrets. Hmm, I did promise another
    fight with you if you managed to defeat my finger. That being said,
    you're kind of too dangerous to not kill right away. So I'm just going
    to kill you quickly." Rays of absolute fire beamed out of Bart's eyes
    and turned the Ultimate Ninja into a pile of ash.

    "There, that hopefully should put an end to you. Now what happened to
    my pinky?" Bart looked at his hand and a second later the pinky popped
    back into place. "Ah, there you are! Have to admit I'm kind of
    disappointed in you. But you are my pinky so I forgive you. Just try
    to do better the next time. Now come, Mr. Pinky -- we have a lot more
    killing to do."


    **** <<--BM-->> ****


    April 2008 AD --
    Dvorakian Space Station 69 --


    General Honiboni looked at the intruder light that was blinking away.
    And then he looked at the ship on the monitor screen. The Starship
    class LNH ship that was getting closer every second.

    General Honiboni sighed. Just what he needed. He shined his headache
    reducer light on his head. It didn't seem to be working all that well.



    **** <<--BM-->> ****


    Near Dvorakian Space Station 69 --
    The LNH Starship Snobbie --


    Contraption Man clicked on the device that he was holding. In that
    instant his appearance totally changed. He and the rest of his LNH'rs
    looked exactly like a murderous band of space pirate lizards.
    Zethrythians to be exact. Except for Ripping Dancer who was garbed in
    some Princess Leia type slave outfit and had a metal collar around her
    neck that she was chained to.

    Contraption Man looked at his lizard like hands. "The holograph tech
    seems to be working. Hopefully it can fool the Dvorakians. You ready, Occultism Kid?"

    The space lizard pirate that was Occultism Kid took another swig from
    Comic Snob Boy's cognac bottle. "Yeah, sure. Ready as I'll ever be."
    He lit himself another cigarette.

    "Ripping Dancer?" Contraption Man looked at her.

    "Yeah. Think I can do it."

    The Starship comm.thingee began to buzz. "Looks like it's show time," Contraption Man said as he clicked it on."



    **** <<--BM-->> ****


    <<You are violating Dvorakian space -- LNH vessel...>>

    "I'm sorry," said Occultism Kid. "I think you may have us confused with someone else. We are merely simple space merchants who wish to travel
    through your wormhole to Qwerty."

    <<Qwerty? Did you say Qwerty?>> said the voice of General Honiboni who dismissed the Dvorakian they had been talking too. <<Why do you want to
    go to Qwerty? And why are you flying an LNH starship?>>

    "The vessel was acquired from a friend who acquired it from another
    friend. All totally legit."

    <<I'll bet.>>

    "As for going to Qwerty, we have a client there who is interested in our
    wares. A client that prefers the solitude of a dead system like
    Qwerty." Occultism Kid gave a wink to General Honiboni. "If you know
    what I mean."

    <<And what are these wares of yours?"

    "Oh, we have quite a bit. But mostly what we have is a lot of lovely
    ladies." Occultism Kid tugged at Ripping Dancer's holographic chain
    pulling her towards the monitor screen. "Come on dear. Don't be shy.
    There." Occultism Kid ran his space pirate lizard fingers through her
    hair. "That's a pretty human."

    <<You're slave traders then,>> General Honiboni said with disgust in his
    voice. <<I should just blow you away right here and now.>>

    "Well, that's your call. That would be a waste of a lot of lovely flesh though. Human flesh. Dorfian flesh. Christicantthinkofagoodnamian
    flesh. Oh and what am I forgetting -- oh yes, and Dvorakian flesh.
    Yes, three lovely Dvorakian ladies. Would you like a look?"

    <<You Zethrythian pirate scum!! How dare you enslave any Dvorakian!!!>>

    "I'd certainly be happy to give you those Dvorakians plus another two of
    your choosing if you let us..."

    <<We do not make deals with slave trading scum!! What is going to
    happen though in a few minutes is that a squad of super powered
    Dvorakians will board your ship. We suggest if you wish to live -- you
    do not resist!>>

    "And there is nothing I can do to change your mind? Ah well. How about
    before your Dvorakians board my ship I give you some entertainment
    then?" Occultism Kid tugged at Ripping Dancer's chain. "Dance my
    little human. Entertain the general."

    Ripping Dancer had a slight smile on her face. She stretched her right
    arm up and began to wiggle parts of her body. Her eyes weren't on the
    general though. They were on the screen next to the general that had a
    picture of part of the Dvorakian Space Station. She focused all of her
    ripping powers right on that section of the Space Station as she danced.
    And a crack began to form. And it got bigger and bigger.

    Red lights began flashing around General Honiboni. And various alarms
    started to blare. <<What is this? What's going on? What? We've been breached?!! The Station? How?? What is...?>>

    Contraption Man clicked the Starship comm.thingee off and then the
    holographic device. "That's good, Ripping Dancer." Ripping Dancer
    stopped her dancing and sat herself down. She was completely out of
    breath and her arms trembled. "You okay?" She nodded her head and then
    made some coughing sounds. "Can you rip the wormhole stabilizers?"

    Ripping Dancer shook her head. "Sorry. Don't have the energy." She
    coughed some more.

    "That's okay. Guess I'll have to use the ships phasers to blast them
    away. Look, Irony Man. You can fly this thing through the hole, right?
    Because once I shoot all of the stablizers, we'll only have twelve
    seconds or so before the whole thing collapses."

    "Yeah," said Irony Man taking over the pilot controls. "I'll guess I'll
    have to."

    Contraption Man hopped into the shooting controls chair and started to
    get a visual on the wormhole. "Everyone. Belt up! Irony Man, a little
    bit closer. Closer. Yeah, almost. Yeah! Get ready." Contraption Man
    had all six targets locked. And with a click of his thumb, the LNH
    Starship guns began to blast away. "Now, Irony Man! Now!!!"

    As the wormhole stabilizers began to blow up, various blue and green
    flashes bathed the blackness of space. Irony Man slammed the Stardrive throttle and the LNH Starship raced through the collapsing wormhole in a
    flash.


    **** <<--BM-->> ****

    As General Honiboni watched the wormhole stabilizers blow up, he began
    to rapidly punch the button on his headache reducer.

    This just wasn't his day.

    **** <<--BM-->> ****

    The Qwerty System --

    "Well, looks like we're still alive." Contraption Man went over to the scanner. "And it doesn't appear that any of the Dvorakians followed us through. That's good."

    "I don't suppose you have a plan for getting us back to the Loonivearth
    in a timely fashion now that the wormhole is gone?" asked Dr. Stomper
    with a concerned expression.

    "Look, Stomper, we'll worry about that assuming we survive both Qwerty
    and Bart -- later. Now we need to focus on going back in time -- and when."

    Dr. Stomper nodded. "There's also the Amnesia Time Barrier to
    consider." [Editor's Note: The Amnesia Time Barrier was created by the supervillain Amnesia in the never written LNHCP #499 -- It causes those
    who go back in time to forget who they are.]

    "Right. That." Contraption Man rubbed his chin. "Occultism Kid. Do
    you have any more of that memory paint?"

    Occultism Kid lit another cigarette. [Editor's Note: Good thing that
    the LNH Starship's atmosphere controls allow smoking, eh?] And then he
    pulled out a small jar from his trenchcoat and shook it up a bit. "A
    little. Enough for one more tattoo."

    "Well, that's something I suppose. So one of us will be able to
    remember. And whoever that is will have to face Bart first. Volunteers?"

    Irony Man raised his hand. "I'll do it. My suit gives me the most
    protection. I'm also the best at combat here."

    Contraption Man snorted to himself. "Thanks, Toony. It's been awhile
    since I had a good laugh."

    Irony Man shot a glare at Contraption Man. "You wanna try me, Tinker Lad?"

    "There will be no need for that," said Dr. Stomper getting himself in
    between the two LNH'rs. "Contraption Man has a point, Toony. Of all of
    us, your powers tend to backfire the most."

    "No, that's not it. You people just don't trust me anymore. You
    probably think I'll make some kind of deal with Bart? Right?"

    Contraption held his hands up. "You said it. I didn't say it."

    Occultism Kid flicked another cigarette in the air. "I'd like to take
    this moment to Not Volunteer. You spandexers can kill yourselves for
    all I care. I'm not leaving this ship."

    Dr. Stomper nodded. "Noted."

    "It should be me," said Ripping Dancer breaking into the conversation.

    "You?" said Irony Man shaking his head. "You look like you're dying (no offense). And you're the least experienced of us all."

    "I know. You're absolutely right. But that's what gives me the
    advantage. We don't need someone to fight Bart. We need someone to
    activate the Freedom Chip. You said I have the least amount of
    experience, and you're right. But that also makes me the least
    threatening to Bart. That will give me the best chance to say the
    activation code. And that's what we need."

    "She has a point," nodded Dr. Stomper. "Activating the Freedom Chip in
    Bart's brain is our highest priority. And she might have the best
    chance in saying the code."

    Irony Man rolled his eyes. "Did our trip to Retcon Hour give you brain
    damage Vincent?"

    Contraption Man broke in. "We'll take a vote. Ripping Dancer to get
    the last of the memory paint. Those in favor?"

    Ripping Dancer raised her hand. So did Dr. Stomper. "Better her than
    me," said Occultism Kid who also raised his hand.

    And lastly, Contraption Man raised his hand. "That's a majority.
    Ripping Dancer will get the last memory tattoo."

    Irony Man shook his head. "Fine. We'll probably all die anyways."


    **** <<--BM-->> ****

    The surface of Qwerty --


    Clouds of Qwertian dust blew into the air as the LNH Starship Snobbie
    landed on its soil.

    "There," said Contraption Man after checking the landing gear. "Oh
    yeah, there's one more thing we should discuss. Where should we go back
    in time? We only have enough time gas for one trip. We'll have to
    hitch a ride with the others if we want to get back. But that could be
    a real problem if we jump back to a time where the LNH aren't -- if you
    get my meaning."

    "Yes," said Dr. Stomper adjusting his glasses. "Since we'll have to
    leave the Snobbie back in the past it's quite possible that we left some
    type of marker that indicates what date we must jump to."

    Contraption Man nodded his head. "Good point. All we need to do is
    find the remains of the past Snobbie and check those out for a marker.
    Let's see if the Snobbie's computer can track the remains."

    A few hours later...

    Contraption Man and Dr. Stomper garbed in space suits flashed their
    lights over the darkened hull of the long dead past Snobbie. All over
    the ship, the same date was graffitied on the walls.

    Contraption Man got a closer look. "Guess that's the time then. Kind
    of an eerie coincidence, don't you think?"


    **** <<--BM-->> ****


    Ancient Qwerty --
    1994 BC --


    Ripping Dancer opened her eyes. She looked at the monitor screen and
    saw a completely different landscape. There were five LNH Starships
    near by. And -- weird -- something that looked like the LNHHQ. The
    Time Jump must have worked. They were 4000 years in the past. She
    looked at her hand. A crumpled piece of paper was in it. She looked at
    the piece of paper. It was the code she had to say to activate Bart's
    Freedom Chip. Not that she really needed it. She had the code
    completely memorized by now. She unbuckled herself from her seat and
    stood up. She looked at her fellow LNH'rs who looked very confused.
    She didn't really have anytime to explain everything to them. About
    Bart and the Amnesia Barrier. No. She had to find Bart and stop him
    once and for all.


    **** <<--BM-->> ****


    The color of the sky was crimson. Ripping Dancer gazed at the
    strangeness of the alien landscape. It was funny, most of her life she
    had spent living in Net.ropolis -- never really venturing beyond that.
    And today she had been to Alt.stralia, time traveled, and now she was on
    a different world light years away. This was all amazing. Too bad this
    might very well be her last big trip anywhere. She looked her LNH tracker.thingee. The tracker seemed to indicate that Bart was somewhere
    around here. She scanned a bit and then she saw it. Some type of hill.
    And it looked like someone was floating above the hill. Was that
    Bart? She'd have to get closer.

    As she got closer, the wind changed direction and she began to smell
    something. Some horrible stench. What was it? It smelled like rotting...

    Oh god.

    Oh Jesus.

    That was no hill.

    And that floating someone was definitely Bart.


    **** <<--BM-->> ****

    They were all dead. Ripping Dancer looked at the enormous mound of
    corpses. People she had eaten lunch with, joked with, shopped with --
    they were all dead. And there --floating above all of it was the
    architect of all this. Bart.

    This couldn't be real. It was all too much. How could anyone kill half
    the LNH? There was something wrong here. And why wasn't Bart wearing
    the Insanity Gauntlet? How could he kill the LNH without that?

    Bart still hadn't noticed her. Maybe she could run. Maybe she could --
    no. There was no place to run. Ripping Dancer felt frozen. The only
    thing moving in her was her heart, which was racing away like an out of
    control train. She almost hoped that Bart wouldn't notice her. But
    even that didn't last. For the first time she could feel his gaze. He
    was looking at her. There was a smile on his face.

    "Oh, goody. More heroes to kill. You're which one? Torn clothing
    Lass? Something like that?"

    The code. She had to say the code. It was the only thing that could
    stop Bart now. Say it quickly. Say it now.

    "i wish i was as smart and sexy as hex luthor," she said under her breath.

    "What?" said Bart with his hand cupped near his ear. "I couldn't quite
    hear you. What did you say?"

    Christ, that stupid code that Hex Luthor had made for the Freedom Chip.
    She had to say it louder. She had to scream it. Say it! Say it!!

    "I WISH I WAS AS SMART AND SEXY AS HEX LUTHOR!!!!!!" Ripping Dancer
    shouted at the top of her lungs.

    She looked at Bart. Did it work? Maybe she should say it again.

    "I WISH I WAS AS SMART AND SEXY AS HEX LUTHOR!!!!!!"

    Bart laughed. "What a bizarre thing to say."

    Why wasn't it working? Then again, maybe it was working. Maybe she
    should try to give Bart some type of command.

    "Or maybe it was some kind of code. Yes? Perhaps some kind of code for
    a -- what do you call them -- oh, yes -- Freedom Chips. Like for
    example this Freedom Chip in my hand." Bart held up a tiny device
    between his finger and thumb.

    Oh, god. He knows, thought Ripping Dancer as she started to step back.

    "Hey, look. The chip is blinking. It must have been activated.
    Probably by that code you said. Well, I guess it's a shame that it
    wasn't in my brain at the time. If it had been, you could have used it
    control me. What a pity, isn't it?" Bart crushed the chip between his fingers.

    It was all over now. This was it. This was how she was going to die.
    Here on some strange alien world light years from her home. This was
    the end.

    "It was a clever plan though. Hex Luthor's, right? Just had one flaw.
    The Amnesia Barrier. You see I was aware of the Amnesia Barrier -- so
    I had to come up with my own protections from it -- so I could time
    travel to the past. The thing was though -- those protections managed
    to drag back to the surface a bunch of repressed memories. Including
    that lost weekend in Alt.stralia back in 1994." Bart snapped his
    fingers. In an instant, the smell of rotting corpses was replaced with
    the smell of freshly baked apple pies. Bart took a deep sniff. "Ah!
    That's better, isn't it? That being said, you'd think that a smart guy
    like Hex would have thought of that possibility. Don't you think? But
    then again -- maybe he did. I mean he got what he wanted out of the
    deal -- didn't he? And he's not here right now, is he, Ripping Dancer?
    That's right, I do remember your name."

    "Why are you doing this? For God's sake, Why??"

    "Because I'm evil?" laughed Bart. "Oh, I guess it's probably more
    complex than that. Actually, we do have something in common Ripping
    Dancer."

    "What? Breathing oxygen?"

    "No, I don't have to do that anymore. Let me show you." Bart clapped
    his hands and a huge visual overtook the sky. The visual was of some
    doctor's office. There was a doctor sitting in his chair and he was
    saying something. <<I've got some bad news. These tests show what
    appears to be a malignant tumor inside your brain...>>

    "He's talking to you, isn't he?" asked Ripping Dancer. "You've got cancer?"

    "Had cancer. This was back in 1995 -- a year or so after my
    Alt.stralian vacation. I had been having these horrible headaches and
    well... I had to have all these tests -- biopsies and so on. And all of
    that led to the diagnosis that I only had a few months to live. Hmm,
    you don't suppose that the Freedom Chip gave it to me. That would be
    funny, wouldn't it?"

    "I'm sorry."

    "Don't be. It was the best thing that could have happened to me.
    There's nothing like knowing you only have a few months to live to make
    you realize what a complete waste your life has been. No. Knowing
    that I was going to die made me realize that it doesn't matter. All the
    stupid things people believe. Humanity. Morality. Fear. The day I
    knew I was going to die was the day I stopped fearing everything. I
    mean if I hadn't had gotten that tumor -- who knows? I'd probably be
    just another loser working the LNH Reception desk. But because of the
    tumor, I'm a God."

    Bart snapped his fingers. The sky turned blue. "There. That's more
    like it. That red sky was kind of spooky, don't you think?" Bart
    laughed. "You know -- you kind of look like Catalyst Lass. A younger
    version -- with slightly bigger breasts. That's your power, isn't it?
    Men see you as their ideal fantasy. You can change your hair color,
    skin color, body shape -- right? And so you look like Catalyst Lass to
    me. Heh. Did you know that Manga Man saw you as some catgirl. Heh.
    What a sicky."

    "As opposed to you?"

    "Touche. Hey, you want to know what Fearless Leader sees when he looks
    at you? His ideal fantasy woman? Huh?"

    Ripping Dancer had an uncomfortable expression on her face. "No. I'd
    rather not."

    "No, huh? Well, that's a shame. But let's move on to other subjects.
    Like the elephant in the room. Whether I'm going to kill you or not."

    "As you can see by that large mound of dead bodies, there is probably
    not much you can do to stop me. But really all that death is kind of meaningless. You see that's just part one of my plan. What's part two?
    I'm going to bring them all back to life, put them on their ships, and
    change their memories of what actually happened. They'll think that
    they beat me -- killed me -- and they'll believe that they won this
    little battle. And when they're flying back to the Loonivearth with all
    their cosmic goodies, I myself will fly to some planet way out there to
    make my own great paradise -- and I'll be the only one that knows the
    truth. The truth of how I beat the LNH. That I beat them! Me, Bart
    the lowly receptionist, who beat the great LNH! Me!!!!"

    He turned his attention back to Ripping Dancer. "Now as for you, you
    could be one of those dead bodies -- that I'll bring back to life and
    send back to the Loonivearth. Of course you'll still be dying of cancer
    -- so in a couple of months or so you'll be dead anyways (and that's
    assuming that the LNH can beat the Bryttle Brothers, which since they
    can't even manage to beat me -- looks very unlikely.) But you don't
    have to be -- dead that is -- you could live a very, very long life --
    if you're willing to make a deal.

    Ripping Dancer shook her head and gave a small laugh. "God, I really
    need to buy a T-shirt that says something like, 'I don't sell my soul to
    the devil anymore.' Because I don't. I don't deal. Ask Mynabird."

    "Right, Mynabird. He did offer you something, didn't he? Your life for Fearless Leader's -- a cure that would allow you to have your powers.
    And you were smart not to take that deal. He wouldn't have been able
    give you that -- he was just lying. He didn't really understand what
    you really wanted. But I do. I know what you want."

    "Really. And what do I want?"

    Bart smiled. "First things first, I should explain the deal. Not every
    LNH'r need come back alive from Qwerty. Like you for instance, perhaps
    you died helping the LNH defeat me -- at least in the memories of the

    [continued in next message]

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