"Stupid Plotline" to the tune of Schoolhouse Rock's "Telegraph Line" (Truncated version, only two refrains) Here's a brand new plot for you, Jack, And the message is clear. It says you're flying up to Mars And kicking squirrel rear. The results can be quite painful Even though you can't die... What the heck, you're Crazy Guy! (Refrain) Hey, there's a stupid plotline, You got yours, and I got mine. It's called the netfic system! Only nobody understands Those uberplot demands, And you know that just nobody's gonna listen! (Spoken verse) The central storyline theme Is some ghod-awful thing. Authors control the plotlines And the problems they bring. Stupid plots come in To tell what's happening to you, Then dialogue goes out To tell the people what you do. (Sung verse) Here's a brand-new plot for Mairi, Better read it on the spot. It says you're in for a big change, And like it you might not! The results can be quite shameful, And there's no time to run, Quick! Jump and get away, and hide behind the nun! (Refrain repeats x2, fade to end) Coherent Comics UnInc. Presents: ___ __ __ ___ _ _ ___ _ _ _ _ CRAZY GUY #28 / '/ | / | / \/ / ' / / \/ "Super To Nuts" / /--' /--| / / / __ / / / copyright 1998 Dave Van Domelen `___ / | / |/__ _/ `__/ \__/ _/ ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ One of the brilliantly red Martian squirrels motioned for the group to stop in a small glade, shaded by an overhanging rock. "We have reached a safe zone, we can stop for now," Jonkatta explained to the two newcomers, setting his rifle down but not straying from it. "What, that rock's going to keep us safe from those...things?" Jack asked. "Is it magic?" "In a way of speaking," Jonkatta replied. "Those things, the Roquis..." "The WHAT?" Jack burst out in disbelief. "Rocky the flying squirrels? I was nearly killed by Rocky the flying squirrel?" He fell to the ground, clutching his sides as he howled with laughter. "It's just a coinci...just...will you stop laughing?" "'Ere, let me," Louie snatched the rifle from Jonkatta's side and shot Jack in the leg. "OW! Hey..." Jack rubbed at the neatly-cauterized hole seared in his leg. Louie handed the rifle back to the somewhat bristling Jonkatta. "Never touch my gun," the Terran Red Squirrel snarled, the squeaks and chitters of his real voice rising over the even tones of his translation synthesizer. "Hey, yer not my type. As you wuz explanin'?" Louie shrugged as well as his squirrel body would let him. Jonkatta looked coldly at Louie, then back at Jack, then said, "The... enemy feeds on lifeforce. Certain spots on this world repel them because of the way they influence the life flow of the biosphere. This is one such place. We may have to fight our way out of it, however." "Ah, so ya got it all feng shui'ed here, gotcha," Louie replied. "And I see de're breakin' out th' rations." "Yes. These are morpho-nuts," the lead Martian said, holding up a bowl of legumes. "They automatically alter themselves to meet your body's individual nutritional needs, making for both good travel food and the ideal offering for beings from another planet, who may have different dietary needs than we now have." "Hey, how come ya don't need a translator box?" Louie asked. "In the time since the Great Division, we Reds have concentrated on the science of the mind rather the science of fire and metal. While this gives us great powers, it only makes us more attractive food for the Roquis, sadly. Our strongest mental attacks are merely devoured by them. By the way, I am called Buroh. These are my associates, Ryezz and Hedga," he gestured in the direction of the other native squirrels. Jack popped a morpho-nut into his mouth and chewed for a moment. The taste was rather odd...almost, but not quite, entirely unlike tea. Ryezz... or was it Hedga?...handed Jack an unopened packet, recognizing that the larger human might need more calories than a single morpho-nut could provide. Jack thanked him and stuffed the nuts into his belt for later, since he didn't feel very hungry yet. "So, what's this about the destruction of three worlds?" Jack asked. "It has to do with the portal between our homeworld and this world," Buroh replied. "Or rather, portals. There are several, all of them being hives of Roquis. The one you arrived at is in an area otherwise antithetical to their being, so the evil ones rarely linger long near it." "Feeding troughs," Louie interjected, his eyes lighting up. Buroh nodded. "Your monkey has it right," he replied, earning an indignant snort from Louie and a confused look from Jonkatta. "The portals slowly drain the remaining lifeforce of the planet you call Mars through the gates, resulting in convenient feeding places for the Roquis. But now they are getting ambitious. They have found a way to redirect the other end of a gateway, and seek to use this to drain energy from the much more vibrant planet Earth...but we believe the backlash could destroy all three worlds...." * * * * Carefully, Gwen reached out with her special gift of transmutation. When the wires inside the security lock turned from metal to wood, the circuit broke open and the safety backups unlocked the door on the assumption that wires deep in the wall would only be broken in the event of a fire or earthquake, either situation requiring an open door. Gwen pulled open the door and slipped in before reversing the effect and restoring the wiring. Maybe she turned some of the paneling into metal in the process, but no one should notice that, she figured. Spy reports indicated that Jack was out of town on a job, but a quick look in the mailboxes showed he had no mail backed up. Gwen immediately heightened her internal alert status. While it was most likely he'd had the Post Office hold his mail, this could indicate the presence of an apartment- sitter, or that he had returned unexpectedly. She wanted to set a trap, not enter an engagement right now. Slowly, she ascended the staircase, trying her best to look like she belonged in the building while also staying alert for any possible attack. Up she stalked, passing no one on the way. Unsurprising once she got past the third floor, as most residents probably used the elevator, lazy humans that they were. Well, lazy and large. In her proper body, Gwen could have easily climbed the side of the building in seconds, but now gravity pulled down on her in a most distressing way. While light and agile by human standards, she felt like she was wearing lead weights on her limbs all the time. Most humans were even heavier and slower than she was...how could they stand it and remain sane? The answer, of course, was that they didn't. Humans were insane, unfit to rule the world they had managed to seize through blundering and bulk. She'd always known this, but having to blend in with them lately drove the point home. Humans were not sane. And if she had to stay one for much longer, she wouldn't be sane either. Driving such unpleasant thoughts from her mind, Gwen concentrated on the mission, quickly reaching the proper floor and opening the door to the hallway. The door was closed...but not locked. Someone WAS here. Warily, Gwen knocked on the door. If someone answered, she'd claim to have the wrong floor. After all, she looked perfectly normal in her blouse and jeans, rolled-up newspaper tucked under one arm. No answer. She pushed the door open and peered in, trying her best to look like a curious busybody instead of like an assassin. The room was empty. Carefully, she stepped inside. Perhaps someone was in the bathroom, or the kitchen alcove. "Hello?" she called out. Nothing. She had reached the center of the room when something told her to look up. Just as she did, a red-haired woman dropped down from the ceiling and kicked Gwen into the couch, tipping both over onto the floor. Gwen cursed herself...she'd been in the human form too long, she'd started getting trapped into their ways of thinking, especially being bound to two-dimensional tactics. She recovered and rolled to her feet. Her opponent was just standing there, as if sizing her up and being unimpressed. "Yuir chi-signature screamed a' me from the stairwell. Y'need ta larn ta damp it doon," the woman sneered in a thick brogue. "My business is not with you, woman," Gwen snarled. If she'd still had a tail, it would have been erect and bristling. Obviously there was no point in trying to maintain the charade of normality around this woman. "No," she cocked her head mockingly, "I'd say it was wi' Jack. And until I decide if'n I want him dead or not, I'll kindly thank ye ta leave yuir paws off him." Something about the woman's swaggering attitude, her condescending tone, lit a fire behind Gwen's eyes. She wanted this interloper dead...not just because she was in the way, but because she was obviously a rival. Her feelings about Jack seemed to be as strong, and as dark, as Gwen's own. And no one would deny Gwen her revenge. She hurled the newspaper at the redhead, changing it as it flew into deadly sheets of razor-thin steel. The woman barely had time to scream before the whirlwind of blades bit into her.... And bounced off, harmlessly. Gwen reeled back, stumbling as the woman's scream did something to her sense of balance. Gritting her teeth, Gwen righted herself and launched into a spinning side kick...a mere human may have been disabled by such a disorienting attack, but Gwen was a squirrel first, and her sense of equilibrium would always be superior to that of a *human*. The kick bounced off the redhead's shoulder, hurting Gwen more than it did the target, but Gwen's opponent did seem taken aback that the newcomer was still on her feet. She stopped the scream for a moment as Gwen hobbled back on her bruised foot. "So, ye c'n resist th' Ben Sidhe's wail, eh? Let's see if'n ye c'n resist my fists!" That horrible screaming returned as Ben Sidhe leapt towards Gwen, slamming a fist towards her face. Gwen barely dodged, and could feel a sickening crunch as the iron-hard fist smashed through the drywall behind her. Gwen bounced over her momentarily-stuck opponent and landed at the other end of the room, pulling a handful of confetti from her pocket. Suddenly the confetti was a cloud of razor-sharp death, swirling around Ben Sidhe. Most of it bounced harmlessly away, but Ben Sidhe had to stop screaming and close her mouth for a moment to avoid inhaling the lethal stuff. A part of Gwen's mind reasoned that perhaps her opponent's technique only protected her outsides, while the rest concentrated on taking advantage of this momentary lapse, launching another kick to Ben Sidhe's side and earning a pained grunt as the woman slammed into the wall. The advantage was only temporary, though, as Ben Sidhe grabbed Gwen's kicking leg before she could pull it back. Sloppy! With a keening wail, the woman started to crush Gwen's leg...she could feel the bones in her shin start to grind together, and her vision started to swim. Suddenly, the door slammed open. A hispanic woman stood there, gun in hand, bursting in like a cop would. "Freeze! Who are you two, and why are you..." Two things happened in rapid succession. Gwen used her power to turn the gun into wood, and Ben Sidhe started to swing Gwen at the newcomer like a bludgeon. The gun was fired. It exploded into a cloud of splinters, stunning the shooter and startling Ben Sidhe, who loosened her grip. Gwen decided that the mission was a complete failure, and wormed out of Ben Sidhe's grip, leaping out the window before either woman could stop her. "Maldito...!" hissed the shooter, rubbing her sore hands. WOULD ARTHUR DENT LIKE MORPHO-NUTS? WHY ARE ALL THESE DEADLY WOMEN HANGING OUT AT JACK'S PLACE? WILL JACK'S LANDLADY BEAT THE CRUD OUT OF MAIRI AND SARA FOR BUSTING UP THE APARTMENT? WILL THE NEXT EPISODE BE LONGER? Answers to some of these questions, on the next...SUPERGUY! ============================================================================ Author's Notes: Thanks to Rob Furr for the morpho-nuts.