LNH/LNV/BoENV continued....

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Mark Crimson Friedman

Sep 6, 1992, 11:44:21 PM9/6/92
In article <1992Sep7.0...@magnus.acs.ohio-state.edu> dva...@magnus.acs.ohio-state.edu (David VanDomelen) writes:
] He then began to look for a digital scanner, but alas, the lab
]with the scanner was closed for the Labor Day Weekend, and even if he
]could find it, only Netlurker had the access codes! "Aha!" shouted
]Acton Lord, looking up in the queue, "There he is! I need only reply
]to Krimson Klone, include myself in the file, and enlist his aid from

Netlurker's power of UNIX-grep signaled him that his abilities
were required by none other that Lord Acton...

WHAM! Someone hit him on the head. It was the Re-Editor!
"It's 'Acton Lord', ya feeb! Get it right!" Re-Editor scampered away
back to the Redistributor's lair...

"OWCH! Okay okay!!!", Netlurker rubbed his head and started

| | | | | | | |

Netlurker's power of UNIX-grep signaled him that his abilities
were required by none other that Acton Lord! "My hand has been
forced," he cried as he surveyed the letter to the Kromatic Klone
kalled Krimson...there was Acton Lord, *included* in the post!

"I need your assistance, Lurking One!", the Lord said. "I
need you to distribute me in a digital format, preferably colour

"GIF? Like the peanut butter, 'Jiff'?" Netlurker always became
confused at the supposed 'official' pronunciation...

Acton Lord became impatient, "Whatever! Just make sure I'm
safe when the RAC Universe implodes!" He handed Netlurker a photocopy
and promptly ftp'd himself anonymously to the realm of "wuarchive"...

Netlurker curiously opened the folded photocopy and looked at
it. There was Acton Lord blasting Sig-Lad into submission just as was
revealed earlier on RAC, but something was amiss... "Blast! This
thing isn't even *coloured*! This is going to waste precious time..."
He turned off the screensaver of his terminal and his fingers flew
over the keyboard...

\ \ \ \ \ \ \ \

stealth 11:01pm 69> ftp wuarchive.wustl.edu
Connected to wuarchive.wustl.edu.
220 wuarchive.wustl.edu FTP server (Version 6.38 Wed Jul 29 13:24:28 CDT 1992) ready.
Name (wuarchive.wustl.edu:netlurker): villain
331 Villain login ok, send your complete e-mail address as password.
230-Next time please use your complete e-mail address as your password
230- for example: j...@stealth.villain.net.legion.com
230- This system may be used 24 hours a day, 7 days a week by users on
230- Earths A-K. Users on Earth-J must adhere to the 12 hour day.
230- The local time is Sun Sep 6 22:01:41 1992.
230-Please read the file README
230- it was last modified on Mon Mar 2 08:29:25 1992 - 188 days ago
230 Villain login ok, no access restrictions need be obeyed.
ftp> cd comics
250 CWD command successful.
ftp> cd villains
250 CWD command successful.
ftp> cd a
250 CWD command successful.
ftp> dir
200 PORT command successful.
150 Opening ASCII mode data connection for /bin/ls.
total 4464
-rw-rw-r-- 1 root archive 86253 Jul 21 1991 aaaaaarrrrrggghhhh!
-rw-rw-r-- 1 root archive 109568 Jul 21 1991 action.lord
-r--r--r-- 1 20001 archive 132204 Nov 30 1991 acton.lord
-rw-rw-r-- 1 root archive 122880 Jul 21 1991 amply.endowed.woman
-rw-r--r-- 1 20001 archive 52367 Aug 17 15:39 annoying.man
-rw-r--r-- 1 20001 archive 63195 Jul 20 12:43 art.critic
226 Transfer complete.
7769 bytes received in 0.87 seconds (8.7 Kbytes/s)
ftp> binary
200 Type set to I.
ftp> hash
Hash mark printing on (8192 bytes/hash mark).
ftp> get acton.lord
200 PORT command successful.
150 Opening BINARY mode data connection for acton.lord (40824 bytes).
226 Transfer complete.
local: acton.lord remote: acton.lord
40824 bytes received in 0.78 seconds (51 Kbytes/s)
ftp> quit
221 Goodbye.

/ / / / / / / /

Acton Lord stumbled out of Netlurker's computer screen a bit
disoriented: "Who? What? Huh?"

Netlurker slapped him a few times. "Get a hold of yourself!"
He held up the black and white photocopy. "In your great haste you
forgot to *colour* it!"

Acton Lord grimmaced, grabbed the paper, and attacked it with
a flash of colour from his fingertips. "It is done!"

Netlurker took the copy, broke down the Fourth Wall, and began
speaking conspiratorially to the reader. "Ahhh, the plan is set in
montion. I'll throw up my array of diversions in the Graphics Lab and
waylay the monitor while he's confused. Then I shall use the scanner
to convert Acton Lord's image to colour GIF. After uuencryption and a
quick posting, he shall be safely stashed on news-spools worldwide!"

Acton Lord laughed maniacally: "Not even the end of RAC can
stop me now! BWAHAHAHAHAAA!!!"

Mark "Klone Crimson" Friedman is frie...@cis.ohio-state.edu .................
"There is nothing former "Beat poets, "If you put a hungry ferret in your
about King Crimson." not children." trousers, he'll run around..."
- Robert Fripp, 5/11/90 - anonymous - Nigel Tufnel (Spinal Tap)

David VanDomelen

Sep 5, 1992, 11:10:19 PM9/5/92
All he remembered was a bright flash of light happening right after his
Ultimate Sig. Sig Lad found himself sitting at a computer terminal next to the
shadowy figure he recognized as Netlurker, who was also somewhat stunned.
Looking out the window, they found the building surrounded by the dreaded
Buckeye Fans! Typing quickly, the two reentered Earth VR to try and see who
Meanwhile, Acton Lord, resplendent in his grey tights and blue surcoat
with grey trim and red half-cape, surveyed the blasted wasteland that was all
that remained of Earth VR after the Cosmic Plot Device had wiped all of the
assorted Net.Heroes and .Villains off the face of the net, if only temporarily.
His autodialer system had allowed him to get back on almost instantly, claiming
the BotSpot and the great power it possessed. The BotSpot was reputed to be
even more powerful than IT, if he could only find a way to safely use it (not
IT). Acton Lord donned his crimson goggles against the fierce glare of the
unremitting net.sun and began to look through the dust for traces of Sig Lad.
Sig Lad reappeared at posting 60087 and began to work his way to the
present, absently noting that Netlurker had lurked off somewhere else.
Meanwhile, the rest of the LNH/LNV/BoENV had been exiled to Net Prime, where
none of them had powers, save perhaps, the mysterious and ripped-off-from-What
The?! Doctor Deranged....
Dave Van Domelen, here's another sig, not quite as big but still pretty
damn impressive:
CHECKERS SPEECH, by Michael K. Anderson, used w/permission

Nemesis Fiend - Look at the checker. A perfect circle, a world in its own, yet
at the same time with depth. There are black checkers and white checkers, just
as there are good people and bad people. A checker is the embodiment of all
that we are, of all that we were, of all that we aspire to be. It has a choice
of two paths...both moving forward, but neither moving in the same direction.
So are we faced with decisions, decisions we are unable to go back on. Richard
Nixon had a dog named checkers also.
Spy Guy - But the king is two circles, together they are infinite. Two worlds,
two entities, with twice the depth. Yet these two entities are irrevocably
linked into one. Again, it can be good or evil, black or white, but it has
greater mobility, greater knowledge, greater choices...greater power. King me!
NF - *I* am that king, Spy Guy! I am the one who makes the decisions. *I* am
the one with the greater knowledge, the superman amid a field of mere mortals.
Two entities, two worlds, *one mind* with the best of both worlds! True, could
be either good or evil, but in my mind, your evil is good and in your mind my
good is evil and evil is not good and good is not evil. And that is good.
Don't you think so?
SG - What was the question?

David VanDomelen

Sep 6, 1992, 8:34:24 PM9/6/92
As Netlurker was being redistributed, Sig Lad fell unchecked into the ghetto
that was rac.xbooks. Frantic because his writer didn't read .xbooks and didn't
know any substantiated jokes to make at their expense, Sig Lad played a last
chance gambit, careful to not let anyone think he was referring to Gambit.
Immediately he began to post all sorts of odd speculative things about Cerebus
#300, the Vertigo line and what Hero Graphics will do now that they've come out
and said Lady Arcane was a lesbian. This attracted the immediate attention of
Netiquette Lad, who used his net.powers to flame Sig Lad back onto racm!
Slightly singed, Sig Lad then found it quite easy to crosspost to rac just as
"Romantic Innuendo" was being banished.
Meanwhile, Acton Lord began to make preparations to ensure his survival
shoudl he be trapped in rac as the system collapsed. Rushing to the nearest
photocopier (as related in previous postings), he began to make copies of
himself and hide them in inconspicuous places about the rac.groups. For
safety's sake, he even spirited some copies about TrekMUSE. He then began to
look for a digital scanner, but alas, the lab with the scanner was closed for
the Labor Day Weekend, and even if he could find it, only Netlurker had the
access codes! "Aha!" shouted Acton Lord, looking up in the queue, "There he
is! I need only reply to Krimson Klone, include myself in the file, and enlist
his aid from there!"
Dave Van Domelen, met the guy who created Gambit once...he described his
original chara concept as "generic energy-manipulating mutant asshole".


Sep 6, 1992, 4:34:55 AM9/6/92
Sig Lad was feeling rather confident now that he had demanded the total
awe of his fellow heroes, certainly now they would repect him... I am
someone special! I am of valor! I am being manipulated! He turned to see
A new villain in the background ! He recognized him strangely as
Dramatizer! He just kept going and going! Now he was messing with his
mind and Sig lad couldn't stand that.
Meanwhile, in the depths of the three worlds and dodging the hilarious
kneeslapping antics of his meddling Dear old Aunt Comic-Relief, Captain
Continuity was desperately trying to repiece the worlds together! Maybe he
could whisper something ingenious into the ear of Dr. Deranged, but he was
still trying to contrive some reasoning on how that character ever came about
and tie it to Cliche's confirmations that he was his brother (long-
lost, naturally!). Captian Continuity gasped with utter dispair as he could
feel the nagging gutwrenching feelings that another new hero or villain was
about to make his debut, unexplained and illogically in the middle of Earth-VR!
"We need more LOVE and Romance in this comic!" reeled a pink and plaid
clad hero. "I am Romantic-Inuendo! and I need more FEELING from all of you!"
The fairy began to sing in the direction of two helpless vicitms that had to
be used to demonstrate this heroes powers. The two nondescript heroes started
smooching on the spot, it was a shallow love! No real depth or believability!
Romantic-Inuendo was not a hero! He was a VILLAIN! "Feeeeeeelings nothing
more than Feeeeeeeelings..." Romantic-Inuendo turned to the heroes and
villains alike!

"They fell in love" said Sister State-the-Obvious! She was nailed
headlong with a resonating "Woooooh Wooooh Wooooh , FEEEEEELINGS!" and was
sent flying into BandWagon Boy who had just reappeared for a second to say
something about the whole perdicament that he had no business meddling in.
He left with Sister State-the-Obvious to get married and were retired from
the comic bis... Or so it would seem for would any normal marraige survive
in Comicdom?! OF COURSE NOT! So they would be seen again as soon as the
Supreme Creators could see to it that their lives were made miserable!
Next to fall to Romantic-Inuendo was Table and Chair! AChair was a
secret old love and companion, patriot and fighter that liked to take long
warm baths with Table watching! They ran of to do somethings not viewable
in this comic and so they started their own NC-17 comic to apease the weak
unimaginative readers with no clue that would ever open one of those horrid
pieces of trash! Self-Righteous Preacher ran off with the Hooded Ho'`od win
who revealed under that hood she was really a WOMAN! Cliche grimaced
sinisterly! If Romantic-Inuendo was not stopped quickly there would be no
more pairs and some of the remaining overflow of male characters might start
revealing that they had "special" hidden secrets that he cared not think
Diliverance came in the form of a small plot device called bordometer!
Pointing the device at Romantic-Inuendo, the Adamant Authority-on-Everything
plastered him into the Limbo of speculation, also called the Letter Page,
where only happy thoughts and senseless praise was allowed! Romantic-Inuendo
smiled as if he had found paradise as the portal between the two dimensions
dissipated. Of course the bordometer shorted in the process due to the tax on
it, which hadn't been paid for some time!?
"NO! RAC cannot end this way!?" Cried a shadowy female with a
prophetic voice. The All-Knowing-Last-Chance-Whiner-Destiny-Woman wailed
frantically in a mystic undertone of dread. "Don't you Realize the end is
Near!? If you don't work together you will all be completely erased from
existence!" Then is a mysterious puff of smoke she was gone as abruptly as
she had appeared!
The thought pierced all the heroes and villains! It is too close!
Even Acton Lord, who thought he was an artist and had a premonition that he
should run get a photocopy of his latest fantasy knew this could not be
denied. Where would they go? The Universe! Is there some non-condemned
paralell universe somewhere where he could gain exclusive posting control
without the pending threat of cancellation!? Acton Lord searched his index of
paralell universal posting grounds and discovered a new universe had emerged
in the midsts of the confusion! RAC.xbook, RAC.misc and RAC.info... and
.marketplace!? Strange names! He thought. I must travel to each, while I
still have time! Opening a portal with his terminal-portable-porthole maker
he lept through to one of the dimensions trying to determine the rules that
governed each realm of existence... The terminal-portable-porthole maker read
RAC.info! The air was virtually nonexistent! Will Acton Lord be able to press
a button to the next realm in time or will his Head explode like a cantalope
STUFFED WITH DYNAMite because of the emptiness of this dry empty realm!?


P.S. Sig Lad in a rush to stop Acton Lord from finding the new Eden dived
through the portal and caught a main stream transdimensional warp current to
RAC.xbooks. (A fate worse than death) Yet he does have his own portable-port
terminal that will help him, but who will find the promised universe first
and what of the rest of the wacky antics about to occur with the frivoulous
Aunt Comic-Relief!

P.P.S. "Dramatizer was sucked into the Letter Page dimension when no one
was watching..." grumbled a very befuddled Captain Continuity, "Stupid,
Sassafrassin, popular heroes! gotta be involved in every comic! Cross -
over head aches! That's how Sig Lad got free!" Captain was going delerious
and then popped up with what seemed to him as a brainstorm..."Or I could make
that part all a dream..." Cliche smiled sinisterly. "Or maybe there is
another hero out there!" Captain Continuity did not want to excite Cliche'
and continued, " One that can just drop a storyline anywhere he pleases..."
"But what to call him!?"

Mark Crimson Friedman

Sep 6, 1992, 5:11:21 PM9/6/92
In article <1992Sep6.0...@magnus.acs.ohio-state.edu> dva...@magnus.acs.ohio-state.edu (David VanDomelen) writes:
> Sig Lad reappeared at posting 60087 and began to work his way to the
>present, absently noting that Netlurker had lurked off somewhere else...

Little did he know that Netlurker had been kidnapped by...


"Whaddya mean, 'rec.arts.comics.misc was never right for
you?'" Netlurker pounded both fists down on The Redistributor's desk.
"I though it was entirely appropriate!"

Redistributor chuckled, "Ahhh, but you are *sooo* naive,
Netlurker. You *must* understand that rec.arts.comics (*sans* the
'misc' suffix, mind you) has a *much* greater readership! It's where
your audience is, boy!"

"But rec.arts.comics.MISC was the *right* thing to do! RAC
will have it's 'going out of business sale' at the end of the month."
Netlurker gestured grandly with his hands, "Thusly, readership should
be ushered to RACM as soon as possible in order to make the transition
as smooth as possible!"

Redistributor chuckled again. "Sorry to tell you this, son,
but your title has been sold to us."

"WHAT!?!? Say it ain't so! Mr. Friedman would *never* step
over the lines of Netiquette and Protocol in order to further his own

"Alas, but he did," Redistributor grinned evilly, "Mark
Friedman, aka Klone Crimson, has two major weaknesses. ONE!" He
threw his hands into the air and thunder BOOMED! "One, he has the
Writers Drive. This entails getting his fiction onto as many
newsgroups and forums as possible...and as many times as necessary!
Fool!!!", thunder BOOMED again, "why *else* did you think he reposted
all *21* issues of his 'Three of a Perfect Pair' story, wasting *megs*
of bandwidth on alt.cyberpunk.chatsubo!!!"

Netlurker scratched his chin thoughtfully. "This is true. I
kinda of thought that was in poor taste..."

"Ahhh! You begin to see the light...TWO!" BOOM! "Two, he has
the pitiful fear of having his grammar and spelling mistakes seen in a
world-wide distribution!"

"<GASP!> Surely you refer to my transpostulization of 'Acton
Lord' into 'Lord Acton' in my Issue #1 on RACM!" He balled his fists,
clenched his teeth, "Blast his vainglorious pomposity!!!"

"BWAHAHAHA!!!" Redistributor laughed maniacally at the
breaking of the quintessential backbone of Usenet: the Quiet
Newsreader! "Yes, yes, Netlurker, even Mr. Friedman has his

Netlurker fell back into his chair and buried his face in his
hands, disillusioned by the sell-out of his *own* creator. "So, what
is to become of me?"

Redistributor folded his hands and sat back in his chair, "You
will be banished to the realm of RAC (sans M) for the remaining
duration of its lifespan. Upon its removal, you will become a Free
Agent, and may return to RACM if you like."

Netlurker looked up warily. "That's not so bad...but what's
the catch?..."

"Your Issue #1 from RACM will be reposted to RAC, *including*
changes made by my associates..." He gestured to the door.

Netlurker spun around in time to see...




"Blast you fiends!" Netlurker sobbed.

Redistributor laughed again. "Ahhh, but you'll never know
what happened, Netlurker. In your mind it'll be as if this never
happened. Now, we shall begin..."


| | | | | | | |

Netlurker remained unsure of where to place his loyalties.

The Legion of Net Heroes and The Legion of Net Villains both commanded
great power and were simultaneously mounting hardened assaults in
order to purge the ever so gradually tainted Industry of Comicdom.
Though normally at odds, the two disparate groups seemed to be driving
towards the same goal. As they approached the summit from opposing
directions, Netlurker wondered who would lay claim to the remnants of
the battered battlefield.

"At least the Industry *will* be saved," he repeated to himself,
hoping, whishing, nay, *praying* it would come to pass. Perhaps
it could: but at what cost?

The Industry's problems had become quite abundant. Rogue Publishers
sprang from nowhere like festering corpuscles emerging from an
apparently healthy outer shell. Mutating and cancerous, the trend
absorbed talents designated as "Fan-Favourite", dragging them by their
egos and pocketbooks into a small, dark room marked "Big $ales".

"Curse them!" Netlurker cried.

He himself was drawn forward by Rogue Publisher promises of "copyright
to the Artist". Surely, art should remain with the Artist, untethered
by the infamous Marketing Department. The Department's unwholesome
weapons of Advertising Hype and Crossover Craze surely must be

But, alas, they remained unchecked. Soon the Artists proclaiming
"Creative Freedom" and "Character Ownership" were lured down from
their soapboxes by royalty checks. Their minds overwhelmed by Sales
Figures, the Once-Righteous Artists became self-serving profiteers.

Netlurker wept at their absorption, but continued to work for their

Another particular perturbence of paramount proportions was the sly
Fanboy King. The King was particularly pernicious in the fact that
his powers corrupted young minds. Simple children (and, sadly, even
older folk as well) were lured into his shadowy embrace with baubles,
gimcracks, and gewgaws. Recent years had seen the rise of Multiple
Covers, Bagged Editions, and Trading Cards. The King's snares sat in
plain view, prominently displayed in every local Comic Shop.

Netlurker wept, "The children, please, *not* the children..."

But it was too late, and by years so. Shiny, flashy graphics reached
out and snagged the children gently by the optic nerves. Bright
colours pulled them in steadily, whilst placing blinders on the victim
as to prevent them from stealing a glimpse of a [GASP!] black and
white comic!

"So much style without substance, so much stuff without style..."

Hook, line, and sinker, the easily influenced children were pulled in
by pap, sweetness, and light. Candy for the eyes had them salivating
Pavlovenly as they set their weekly allowance on the sales counter.
Stimulus, response, metamorphosis: the previously innocent child is
infected, becoming a *Fanboy*. The King's new servant then spreads
the disease to his friends, uttering diabolical phrases such as "you
*know* you want to", "it'll make you feel good", and "everybody's
doing it!"

Tears still streaming down his face, Netlurker growled through his
clenched teeth, "Damn the Shop Owner! *How* could he let it happen?"

But could, should the Owner be blamed for the problem. No, he was
just a simple pawn of the Industry. And what of the King? Who was he
working for? What was his goal? Indeed, it seemed the Fanboy King's
strategy would eventually topple the Industry. However, Marketing
Departments thrived on his minions, attaching themselves like leeches
and lampreys to the soft minds of subtly warped Fanboys.

"Could they be working *together*?" Netlurker mused. Indeed, both
profited by the conversion of Fanboys. However, as the trend
continued, the Industry would become bloated, eventually bursting like
an expired Zit on the Ass of Society. Marketing's short-sighted
profit-mongering would also become it's own demise: how ironic.

Still there existed two more Enemies of the Industry: Collector and
Speculator. These nefarious consumers were solo acts. Collector
greedily snagged everything he could find. Then he'd apply his
personal weapon: the Mylar Bag! This devious invention kept the Art
away from damaging sunlight, as well as casual readers. Collector
himself is a major target of the Fanboy King's own tools such as
Multiple Covers and Bagged Editions (natch).

Speculator is perhaps the most evil player of all. He's simply "in it
for the money" and is rumoured to have no love for the medium itself.
Gathering multiple copies of reported "hot" comics (Netlurker cringed
at the Marketing Department's power-word), Speculator proceeds to sit
on the comics, hoping they rise in value. He himself also preys on
Fanboys and the Collector as well.

So, were The Legion of Net Villains truly the evil ones? Netlurker
thought not, and strongly believed that "Brotherhood of *Evil* Net
Villains" was surely an inaccurate moniker. Whilst the LNV lusted
after domination of the world, and thus the Industry, they certainly
didn't desire its destruction. His own confrontations with Acton Lord
had told him that much: the LNV was as much concerned with the
Industry's survival as he was.

On the other hand, the Legion of Net Heroes was also working for the
Industry's liberation. However, their sense of self-righteousness
turned Netlurker against their ways. Many of their tactics were just
as questionable in that they called for a herd mentality: "Fanboys are
bad, thus Fanboy titles are worthless and of no artistic value." Such
wretched proclamations made Netlurker retch! Blind Faith, no matter
for *what* the cause, was EVIL!

Netlurker remained unsure of where to place his loyalties, but at the
moment felt himself closer to Acton Lord's cause. Over time he'd
developed an increased sense of sarcasm on cynicism. Once optimistic
of the comic world, he found himself jaded, upset at what Marketing
had done to the Industry. Something had to be done, quickly, and if
it had to be carried out with a Villain's ruthlessness, then so be it!

But for now he waited, waited at his small terminal located in the
sterile, overcrowded machine room of a major American University. He
had his super-powers at hand: Internet Access, Threaded News Reader,
Kill Files, and Anonymous Posting.

Netlurker smiled ferally through the mysterious shadow that always
seemed to follow him around. He was confident that the quiet observer
such as himself and the thousands of other Netlurkers patrolling the
streams of electronic data in the Net would prevail. They would post
in quality, not quantity, only occasionally finding the appropriate
moment in time to make careful stabs at the unprotected joints of
faulty posts and flames.

Netlurker continued his duty, monitoring the movements of the Legions.

- Netlurker


Sep 7, 1992, 2:22:11 AM9/7/92
"Stop the Carnage! Stop the repressed Feelings! YOU MUST CHANGE OR BE
SMITTEN! Let me give you the key to all imortality, do not reject me!"
screamed the All-knowing-last-chance-whiner-Destiny Woman, who had reapeared!
blorted Onomato-puweeah person. AKLCWDWoman cried in agony as she was crushed
by the Enormous weight of the sound FX bubble landed squarely on her!
"oh kay." thought Time Crapper. Well none of us really want to live
forever anyway... Right? Interlude was obviously nearby, because he really
thought he had nothing to do with this part.
"WRONG!" cried a fiesty old man with thick brown framed glasses.
"The Answer is Everyone wants to live forever!"
"Who's that?" piped the entire LNH/V turning to Captain Continuity
who was biting his fingernails!
"MacLaughlin Man!" murmured CC. "He is the one that brings in his
political views as reality."
"Why did you have to bring him into the story?" queried Adamant
Authority on Everything. "You already have me!?"
"Hey dont blame me I am just trying to explain this mess."
Captain Continuity, "I will now unveil my new heroes. They're the reason that
nothing makes sense PostTimeShifter, PlotChopper and Dyslexia!"
The multicolored background opened to reveal three superbeings. Post-
TimeShifter was almost transparent. He was not here at the time or was he.
PlotChopper was a huge bulky man who carried a very large PlotAXE. Dyslexia
was a crosseyed female who read things into everything and read things out of
everything. Captain Continuity turned and flailed his arms into the air in the
direction of the three new comers. "See, its NOT my fault! Its theirs!"
"I cannot be responsible for all the dangling plotlines! and blasted crossovers
that grab any and all heroes everywhere."
Acton Lord sat back and scanned the three newcomers. What would this
mean for his quest for imortality? They could just cut him off with one fell
swoop and he'd need to rely on his many simulacrums. But what if he couldnt
transfer his consciousness into them? And yet if he could harness their powers
he could profit greatly. Already Dyslexia was being blamed for making Acton
Lord the greatest threat to the universe, and yet even by his first claims he
was considered small potatoes. If he could get the comsic Control writers to
continue to misread this escapade through the power of Dyslexia he could even
become the SUPREME MEANY of ALL TIMES! The only way he could imagine the
realization of his maniacal scheme was dreadfully simple. If they loved him
then he could call on their powers as he desired. Only one person really could
manipulate the heart strings of so many... ROMANTIC-INUENDO!!! But to find
him Acton Lord would have to travel to a most degrading dimension: The Letter
Page! Would Acton Lord reply in time to avoid the mess up of PostTimeShifter
and PlotChopper! Or will the timelaspes in the newsuniverse timestream be
warped enough to smash Acton Lord's plans! Worse might be that the whole thing
gets dropped, the work of PlotChopper...


P.S. And what of Sig Lad? Will he stand idly by as his universe is carved
by a foreign unfeeling maniac?

P.P.S. And what of wReam's efforts to become a hero himself... Will he
Expand his mini "w" into wizard intime to champion justice. Or will he
flip the "w" over to make an "m" and then become master. And How long
will it take for my envelope to get to Dave's so I can draw a retalitory
poster... Hrmph! (stupid holidays!)

Eric Schissel

Sep 7, 1992, 4:33:41 PM9/7/92
A fight between Acton Lord and Action Lord is long overdue.


The Ahkond of Swat

Sep 7, 1992, 5:36:27 PM9/7/92
In article <1992Sep7.0...@cc.usu.edu> sl...@cc.usu.edu writes:
>Dyslexia was a crosseyed female who read things into everything and read
>things out of everything.

Note: Dyslexia is an old foe of mine, from the "Spelling Boy: the Hors-
D'oeuvre Quest" mini-series. She's wanted by the authorities on Webster's
Planet (my home world) for crimes committed in connection with the
Their-there-they're Holocaust. We think she may also have something to
do with the growing prevalence of the misspelling of "Marvel" as "Marvle,"
but this doesn't really bother us much. }8^)

Well, back to work...

>direction of the three new comers. "See, its NOT my fault! Its theirs!"

"newcomers" ... "it's"

>mean for his quest for imortality? They could just cut him off with one fell


>was considered small potatoes. If he could get the comsic Control writers to


>manipulate the heart strings of so many... ROMANTIC-INUENDO!!! But to find


>Expand his mini "w" into wizard intime to champion justice. Or will he

"in time"

>will it take for my envelope to get to Dave's so I can draw a retalitory


-Spelling Boy

Bill Sherman S^1 `--> S^(2n+1) -->> CP^n she...@math.ucla.edu
LET ME RING THE BELL. -Billy Crystal's privates

David VanDomelen

Sep 7, 1992, 9:00:09 PM9/7/92
Sig Lad was infuriated. Not only was the first draft of the picture of Acton
Lord an immortalization of Sig Lad's worst defeat, not only did he have the
most slip-shodly designed costume in it (obviously designed *after* the
character outline was drawn on the paper), *not only* was his costume a hideous
puke green in the first draft, but now the copy to be GIFed had him wearing
red instead! And as anyone who has read a Marvel comic knows, a change of
costume from green to red means a switch from good to evil (no kidding!
Phoenix, Iron Fist, Sersi...)! Being made evil made him furious! In fact,
he'd better put down that crystal from a fragmented Cosmic Plot Device he
picked up in an earlier scene before he gets too angry...uh oh...
YES! Emboldened by his anger and the fact that he not only ran the 10m
dash in 2.52 seconds at COSI today but also threw a fastball all of 48 mph, Sig
Lad undergoes yet another transformation...into Action Lord! You thought he was
just a typo, but NO! Leaping into a wormhole, Action Lord set out on his
insidious plan to foil Acton Lord by leaping *back in time* to previous posts
and replace Acton Lord at crucial junctures! BWAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!
Meanwhile, Acton Lord, beginning to sense that he was being blamed for
things he didn't do, stood uncertainly at the threshhold of the Lettercol. As
he was about to take the fateful plunge, he hear a strange, warped, vocoded
voice behind him, "LoOk At mE!!!"
Acton Lord gasped! "Oh no! It's Ned the Giant Eyeball from Outer Space!"
"yEs ACtoN LoRd, aNd i See tHat yOur rEIgN oF TerRor iS aBouT Up!," cried
Ned as he bounced over to Acton Lord, intent on knocking him into that most
dreaded and deadly of realms, the Editor's Remarks Column!
Suddenly, due to an unfortunate typo, Ned rammed Action Lord instead, who
at the time was back on Earth KaTeFaN. Irked, Action Lord slamdunked Ned into
an anonymous ftp site in Idaho, breaking the backboard in the process. Action
Lord then looked back along Ned's trajectory and saw Acton Lord. "The game is
afoot!" he shouted and leaped toward his more evil twin.
Acton Lord smirked. "Can't you see there is no point in fighting me
anymore? We are identical now...both evil, both with the same initials."
"Not quite! For I is in me!" declaimed Action Lord.
"Don't you mean 'I *am* in me'?"
"No, the letter 'i' is in me, not you."
"He does not have to shoot you now," wittily rejoined Acton Lord.
"Oh no, I saw that cartoon too, you know. And if you try to get me into
that routine, you know as well as I that Netiquette lad will flame us both onto
rec.arts.animation. Trust me, those flames can really ruin your wardrobe."
Acton Lord grinned, for as he had planned, Action Lord's expostulation
gave him time to prepare a devastating slide show on atheletic injuries.
Quickly, he turned it on, and instantly every muscle in Action Lord's body
began to feel the pain of his day's exertions, pain ignored previously by dint
of many aspirin and a large pizza.
"ARGH!" shouted Action Lord.
"So long, brother," said Acton Lord, as he gently nudged his twin into the
Dave Van Domelen, you can stop sending me Drek stuff now...
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