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

    From Arthur Spitzer@21:1/5 to All on Sun Jan 24 21:16:07 2021
    [continued from previous message]

    LNH'rs that's how it played out. They'd bring your corpse back -- a
    perfect duplicate of your body -- you'd get a heroes funeral -- the
    works. Of course some like Fearless Leader would be very sad -- but
    they'd eventually move on -- in fact perhaps your death would give them
    the sort of inspiration they'd need to defeat the Bryttle Brothers.
    It's quite possible that you'd be more valuable to the LNH dead than alive."

    "But as for the real you -- you'll live the rest of your very long life
    on another planet. Let's call it Earth." Bart snapped his fingers and
    a large image of a planet that looked a bit like the Loonivearth hovered
    in the sky. "This planet is a bit like yours, but a lot milder.
    Horrible events do happen, but on a lesser scale. The only super heroes
    and super villains are the ones confided to the pages of comic books and
    other types of fiction. You'd be a normal person here. And you'd have
    a normal life." Bart snapped his fingers again and both he and Ripping
    Dancer were now on some normal looking Suburban street filled with nice
    looking houses. "That'll be your house." Bart opened the door and they stepped inside. There was a staircase leading to the second floor.
    There was something about it that reminded her of the Brady Bunch. They
    toured the various rooms, the den, the living room, the kitchen, and
    then they stepped out into the backyard. There was some guy with
    glasses, balding, a slight beer belly and he was pushing a couple of
    kids on a swing set.

    "That's your husband. I know -- he's no muscle bound hunk like Fearless Leader, but he loves you -- and he accepts you -- just the way you are.
    And that's what you really want, don't you? You never wanted to be
    this superhero. This goddess that every man has to love. No. You just
    wanted to be loved. To be accepted by someone." Bart snapped his
    fingers again and both of them were transported to some school. "This
    is where both you and your husband work. He's a math teacher. You're
    an art teacher. You'll both lead very dull boring lives, but you'll be
    okay with that. Sometimes bad things will happen because, Hey, life
    isn't perfect -- but you'll get through them together. You'll live to
    the ripe age of 103. Your two kids will also lead very boring and happy
    long lives and they'll have lots of grandchildren who will also lead
    very boring and happy long lives and so on and so on. And on the night
    after your 103rd birthday, you and your husband will both die together peacefully in bed." Bart snapped his fingers and the two of them were transported to a bedroom. An elderly couple was lying in the bed, both embracing the other. Each with a blissful look in their faces. Both in
    a sleep that they would never wake up from.

    Bart snapped his fingers. They were back on Qwerty. "And that's the deal."

    "It's lovely. All perfectly lovely. I'm sure I had a fantasy about a
    house like that when I was in high school. You should have offered me
    that deal a couple years ago. I would have gladly done anything for it."

    "But you don't have to do anything for this deal. You just have to
    accept that there is nothing you can do to stop me. That you can't
    fight me. That I will always win. That's all you have to do. It's
    very simple."

    "That's the catch, isn't it? I have to give in. That's the problem.
    That's the problem with the world. We just accept the evil. We don't
    try to fight it anymore. We just look away at the horrors because it's
    too hard to do something. It's too big. So we accept it. We make our
    deals with the devil because that's the way it is. And we find ways to
    justify it. But no. No. I'm not going to do that anymore. No. I'm
    going to fight you. Because you're a deranged person who could do so
    many wonderful things with these godlike powers, but all you can think
    to do with them is pull the wings off flies. And because I have
    changed. I'm not the scared little girl I used to be. We can change,
    Bart. We can be better than this. The apathetic can care. The afraid
    can be brave. The weak can become strong. And, yes, even villains --
    villains like me can become heroes. We all can change. We have that
    ability. I know that now. I finally do. We can change. Well, at
    least I can. Maybe you can't anymore. Maybe you're just a sad little
    man with sad little dreams -- and that's the way you're going to be.
    But regardless, the hell with your deal. The hell with it! I'm going
    to fight you with every last breath. Yes. And I will enjoy it."

    And then there was silence. Bart just hovered above the mound of dead
    LNH bodies and looked at Ripping Dancer. The smile was gone. Ripping
    Dancer almost expected him to strike her down with a lightning bolt.
    But he didn't. Instead, he snapped his fingers once more.

    Suddenly, the nausea and horrible pain she had been feeling disappeared.
    A moment of euphoria flooded through her body.

    "Feel better? I cured your cancer, Ripping Dancer. I want you at your
    best when I destroy you. I'll give you first rip -- because you're
    definitely going to need that. Oh and you should probably know about my various powers and immunities." Bart recited the list (Hey, I'm not
    going type that up again). "And my last act of kindness to you will be
    to let you choose the last song you'll ever dance to. So feel free to
    choose any song. Maybe Little Richard's 'Rip It Up'? Perhaps 'Torn
    Between Two Lovers'? 'Rip Her to Shreds'? Any song. No matter how
    crappy."

    "I don't care. Pick what ever you want."

    "You sure? Well, okay. Let's do this one then." Bart snapped his fingers.

    And the deafening voice of Donna Summers singing 'Last Dance' thundered
    across the Qwertian valley.



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



    End of Part II

    ==========
    Next Week: Beige Midnight Part XXII!
    ==========

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

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