Maybe: "Stop running! I think we lost Ahnuld, and we're not even going in the right direction!"

Ford: "We can't stop now! Not until we--OOF!"

Ford runs smack into a chain-link fence. Before he can recover, Maybechild runs into him. As they both attempt to recover, the giraffe barrels through the chain-link fence, sending Ford and Maybechild through the other side, knocking them unconscious.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

When the two of them regain consciousness, they notice that they're now in a concrete clearing. On one side is a gated entrance with a guard house. Nearby, a clown is busy keeping a giraffe calm. On the other side is an industrial office complex, where a couple cars and a few freight trucks are parked. There is a sign above the entrance to the buildng complex that reads "ALL-ONE: A loan lending company for gotten goods." Several armed people pour out of the entrance and surround Ford and Maybechild.

Armed Person #1: "Who are you? State your purpose here!"

Maybe: "I'm sorry -- we didn't mean to intrude. We're actually trying to find our way to Washington D.C., to the Forgotten Headquarters."

Ford: "Maybechild and I have an appointment with them."

Armed Person #2: *to Armed Person #1* "Sir! These are the people the Forgotton One wanted to speak with personally."

Armed Person #1: "Hm... well, that is fortunate for the two of you. We don't allow just anyone here, you know. It would have been a lot easier for you folk if you went to our official headquarters first. Still, it's a wonder you found this place at all."

Maybe: "Where is "here" exactly?"

Armed Person #1: "Well... you'll be one of us soon enough, so I may as well tell you. This is the secret base of operations for us Forgotten, where we can work without fear of retaliation from the non-Forgotten. Follow us inside, and we'll explain it all to you."

Armed Person #2: "You two have good timing -- the Forgotton One just returned from his business. Weren't there supposed to be more of you?"

Ford: "We... took some losses..."

Behind the broken chain-link fence, two primal eyes watch, its left eye twitching...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Meanwhile (NeS count: I uh...forgot), in the realm of 1337, Mayaal and Bhac confront each other once again...

Bhac: "I see your new pawn set you free."

Mayaal: "Yes, and now, Twin Suns -- the Forgotten One -- returns to his own affairs."

Bhac: "Care to tell me how he freed you?"

Mayaal: "No."

Bhac: "Did you at least tell the readers how he freed you?"

Mayaal: "No. They can't be trusted either."

Bhac: "Uh-huh. So, are you really going to help Twin Suns exact his revenge on me?"

Mayaal: "So long as you have control over Tsolo, yes."

Bhac: "I see. This will certainly make our eternal conflict more interesting, wouldn't you say?"

Mayaal: "If the writers will it so. I fear this may cause more problems than it may solve."

Bhac: "With the way things are with NeS right now, I think just about anything will be better."

Mayaal: "We'll see. In the meantime, we have work to do."

Bhac: "Yes, yes. See you soon, Mayaal."

Mayaal: "Not too soon, I hope."

Bhac and Mayaal part ways in the vagueries of 1337.

*Confidently, Captain Sran Cadpill strolls into the room where the other heroes are conversing.

Voodoo: Why did it take us two months to walk down the hall?

Sarn The Writer: Shut up. I've been.. uhh.. busy.

Voodoo: Yeah, whatever. *mutters something about World of Warcraft*

*Ahem. Can we get on with this?

Voodoo: Sorry.

Sem: Oh look, Emo-boy's back.

Sran: What are you talking about, Ensign. Straighten up. This instant.

Sem: Wha? Oh, uhh.. Yes sir.

Sran: Good. Now, you all should know to stand at attention when a Captain enters the room. 4 demerits a peace. Lieutenant CoolMatty, 8 demerits for you, for not adequately training your crew. Now, there was something I was supposed to explain to you all, but I seem to have forgotten, since it took me nearly two months to get here from down the hall.

CoolMatty: How do you think we felt, Sir? I'm starving.

Sarn The Writer: Oh, come on guys. It's not like I'm the only writer. Don't go putting this all at my feet.

CM The Writer: Oh so now you're gonna place the blame on me? As if the whole MASSASSI SERVER MOVE wasn't taking up some of my attention.

Heroes (collectively): huh?

*Ahem.. Suddenly a large plate of deli sandwiches materializes in the conference room. The heroes promptly forget about their qualms and begin eating happily.

CM (through a mouthful of sandwich): So uhh, what were you coming to tell us then?

Sran: Something about the hero, Sarn Cadrill... I'm trying to remember.

CM: Wait, aren't you Sarn Cadrill?

Sran: No, of course not. I'm Captain Sran Cadpill, UNS.

CM: Oh, right.

Sran: Let's see.. something about.. a cellphone. No... cellophane?

CM: Why don't you sit down and have a sandwich while you think about it, uhh sir.

Sran: Perhaps...

Sran absent-mindedly takes a deli sandwich from the plate. He nibbles thoughtfully.

Sran: Cello... Sallo... Solo... Tsolo... Aha! That's it! Tsolo!

Sran grins triumphantly.

CM: What about Tsolo?

Sran: ...

Sran: Oh, that's right! Tsolo--

Before Captain Capdill can continue, The Patriot and The Last True Evil march into the scene. Behind them, Jim Seven shakes a fist at them.

Jim7: "And STAY OUT! That's my secret base!"

TLTE: "Stupid Prince of Darkness not letting me keep The Patriot imprisoned..."

Mimiru: *to CoolMatty* "The creepy complex basement is "Teh Secret Base" of Jim Seven?"

CM: "Well, if it is, it's not very secret anymore."

The Last True Evil and The Patriot step outside, catching the interest of most of the other hero-types.

The Patriot: "Well well, Last True Evil, care to make good on your offer before my friends arrive?"

The Last True Evil stares at The Patriot, still in possession of the Patriot's pistols, scrutinizing his American rival. The tense stand-off is broken by a nearby light glowing.

The Patriot: "Too late. Here they come."

The light flashes, and turns into a magical portal -- not crude and dark like a plot-hole, but clear and with definition. Out of the portal steps three figures, sillouetted by the light surrounding the portal as it closes behind them.

The Patriot: "I don't believe you've met any of my friends, comrade."

The word "comrade" is said less with mock-malice, but instead with some core fiber of his being... something The Patriot himself would not be able to explain but which The Last True Evil now understood as "story convention."

The Patriot: "Let me introduce three of my closest allies -- three of the elite members of my professional alliance, Hero Force One. The man there is our team's primary scholar and magic-user, Doctor R. Deep."

The Patriot gestures to a man who can only be truely identified as Bad-*** Incarnate. He bears a passing resemblance to the character Morpheus of "The Matrix" if he were to wield blades made of magic. As he steps forward, the other (our less-than-stellar NeS) heroes continue to gawk on the sidelines.

Semievil: "Damn! He's cooler than our coolest by order of magnitudes!"

Antestarr: "Aww..."

CoolMatty: "Hey, who said you were the coolest?"

The peanut gallery goes unnoticed by The Patriot as he continues introducing his teammates to The Last True Evil.

The Patriot: "The woman you see is none other than Seraphim, our team's healer and diplomat."

The woman that The Patriot gestures to is arguably the most attractive person the world has ever seen. She is wearing a dress (if you could call it that) that appears to be made of liquid light, only bright enough to cover what would otherwise reveal a naked form, a form that moves like flame as she steps forward. Naturally, there is a renewed interest from the peanut gallery.

Subaru: "I never would have believed someone could be that pretty without Photoshop! Uh...except for you, of course, Losien."

Losien: "If only..."

Mimiru: "Why won't they sell that dress? Not like I could afford it anyway..."

Suburu: "How the hell is that dress even made? Or even put it on?"

Otter: "Or off?"

The others look at The Otter.

Otter: "...what?"

The Last True Evil, meanwhile, is visibly worried as he realizes the odds rising against him.

The Patriot: "And the boy... is my sidekick, The Company Kid."

The Patriot seems less-than-ethused as he gestures towards a young teenage boy wearing a cowboy hat and a brown jumpsuit, covered with corperate logos. Camera crew, news reporters, and other media coverage types flock onto the scene from apparently thin-air, as if the Company Kid were some sort of publicity magnet (in fact, dear readers, that is exactly the role of the Company Kid, this being The Patriot's 17th one). Even the Company Kid, however, exudes experience at least equal to that of most of the NeS heroes.

The Patriot: "We will truly see the last of your evil, Russian. Hero Force One, ATTACK--!"

TLTE: "WAIT!"

The Patriot does not stop, however, as he and his team mates advance on a retreating TLTE.

TLTE: "Are you afraid to fight me yourself, American?"

The Patriot halts, holding up a hand to his other teammates.

TLTE: "I didn't think so. My offer still stands... what do you say?"

The Last True Evil holds out The Patriot's pistol as an offering to his American rival.

Dr. R. Deep: "Don't do it. You owe him nothing."

Seraphim: "Let us help you."

The Patriot: "No. I must finish this myself. *to himself* Besides, it wouldn't look good in front of the cameras if I did otherwise..."

The Patriot grabs his own pistol from The Last True Evil's hand. The Patriot hands his top hat to The Comapny Kid, and The Last True Evil prepares his unique revolver with a single bullet, spinning the barrel and snapping it into place, the loaded chamber remaining a mystery to all. The two men move to their positions, standing back-to-back, their revolvers held in the ready position.

The Patriot: "Ten paces, turn and fire on the tenth?"

The Last True Evil: "Fine with me, but can you count to ten? I thought you weren't a fan of the Metric system."

The Patriot: "This is no time for jokes, villain."

The Last True Evil: "On the contrary, I wish I could be funnier. But you wouldn't understand."

The Patriot: "Kid! Start the count!"

Company Kid: "Yes, sir! ONE!"

The Last True Evil and The Patriot march one step away from each other.

Company Kid: "TWO! THREE! FOUR!..."

The Last True Evil looks towards the NeS heroes: towards CoolMatty and Amal, towards Michael MacFarlene, towards Losien, towards an empty space where he wished a friend was standing...

Company Kid: "...EIGHT! NINE! TEN!"

Not a moment before The Company Kid said "ten" did The Last True Evil spin around, his unique revolver swinging down to his hip. The Patriot spun equally as fast, but certainty slowed The Patriot's aiming of his own revolver. The Last True Evil pulled the trigger, already cocking his gun again with the speed and grace of a legendary cowboy.

Click.

The Patriot continues to raise his revolver. The Last True Evil pulls the trigger again.

Click.

The Last True Evil slams the hammer again with the side of his hand, pulling the trigger as The Patriot pulls the hammer of his own revolver with his thumb.

Click.

The Patriot aims for The Last True Evil's heart, as The Last True Evil pulls the trigger even as he's still cocking in a blur of perfection.

Click.

The impossible shatters as The Last True Evil fires his fifth shot faster than mechanically possible, yet not before The Patriot pulls the trigger. The Patriot's bullet whizzes through the air, piercing into The Last True Evil. The force shakes The Last True Evil's aim as he pulls the trigger.

BLAM.

The Patriot snaps his arm back, dropping his gun, and gripping his arm in pain. The Last True Evil stumbles, apparently struggles to move, then collapses on his back. Immediately, Losien rushes to The Last True Evil, followed by other NeS heroes, as The Patriot's own friends draw close to him.

The Patriot: "So he wasn't bluffing after all, but how...? I can't even move my hand... Sera!"

Seraphim holds onto The Patriot's injured arm, and a radiance surrounds his arm. When she releases her hold, however, she is surprised to find his injury still present.

The Patriot: "Try harder!"

Seraphim: "There's nothing I can do here, Sam, and honestly... I'm not sure anything can be done. I won't know for sure until we get you back to Hero Force One HQ."

The Patriot: "Deep! Check his body."

Dr. R. Deep walks to The Last True Evil, kneeling down, pausing for a moment as Losien continues to stroke The Last True Evil's face.

Losien: "No... you can't die... you can't be dead..."

Dr. R. Deep: "If you will allow me, please..."

Subaru: "No! We'll handle this!"

The Patriot: "You will do no such thing! This is our juristiction. Any interference will be regarded as aiding evil and will be punished as such."

Subaru: "What gives you the right? He's a human being! Our friend! We're just as much heroes!"

Company Kid: "And what are your qualifications? Did any of you even pass Hero Ethics 301?"

Seraphim: "If you interfere, you'll only make things worse. Doctor?"

Dr. R. Deep checks for a pulse, listening for breathing. Silence.

Voodoo: "What's taking him so long? Isn't he a doctor?"

Finally, Dr. R. Deep stand up, and turns to The Patriot.

Dr. R. Deep: "The Last True Evil is dead."

Scene-swipe back to our unconscious friend, Gebohq. Well, not unconscious anymore, actually. He sits up, rubbing his head, surveying the quiet battlefield before him. Lawyers, bureaucrats, accountants, law enforcers, and Apple products: they are all broken, defeated, without a victor in sight. A few PDAs still flicker here and there, but otherwise, the stillness remains constant. Gebohq takes off his ring (becoming once again visible), pockets it, and begins to search the bodies of the Taxman's lawyers for his tax work.

Gebohq: "Ugh, three hundred bodies to check. This isn't going to be fun."

Conveniently, for both Gebohq and us, the first body he checks happens to be the one that had his paperwork... as convenient as not having to describe a battle that was epic beyond all belief.

Gebohq: "Oh thank God. Now to see what my tax records really are..."

Gebohq opens the manila folder, fingering through the paperwork.

Gebohq: "Just as I thought -- clean as a whistle. ...with a notification of tax evasion. Son of a biscuit."

What are you going to do now?

Gebohq: "The same thing I was going to do before. I'm going to confront the Taxman. It's where the story wants me to go. I just pray the writers know what they're doing."

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

In the world of the Writers...

Sarn the writer: "How the hell is Gebohq going to succeed against the Taxman?"

Geb the writer: "Uh... I'll get back to you on that one."

Sarn the writer: "You don't have a clue, do you?"

Geb the writer: "I have a clue! I have plenty of clues! Shut up!"

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

Back in the Never-ending Story Thread (squared, yo), Gebohq shuffles through the lawyer's briefcase and produces a key card and a cellphone. He turns on the cellphone, searching through the address book.

Gebohq: "...Seraphim, sister, Stafford, standards office--ah, here we go! System backdoor."

Shortly after making the call, a door materializes nearby, with a keycard slot. Gebohq slides the keycard through, and the door opens, revealing The System beyond it. How the hell do you know all this, Gebohq?

Gebohq: "I took a class about all this at hero college. After all, this is the sort of stuff people really need saving from. Also, it was a requirement for my major."

Right. Well then, in any case, Gebohq steps through the door, pocketing the keycard. He adjusts his oversized jeans as he wanders the labyrinth corridors of the System. Wanders...wanders... where the hell are you?

Gebohq: "Beats me. I'm just hoping to stumble upon something marked 'Taxman's office' or the like."

Don't be stupid! You're not going to find--

...Gebohq turns the corner to see a door with a sign marked "Taxman's office."

I stand corrected.

Gebohq: "Well, here goes nothing..."

Taking a deep breath first, Gebohq opens the door and enters.

Inside, Gebohq notices several things, the first of which is that he is being watched by a ridiculous number of security cameras mounted on the walls, the ceiling, and even underneath the floor (which appears to be "tiled" in a clear plastic), as well as a not-so-ridiculous number of monitors, organized into varying types and purposes around the room. The second thing he notices is the large, gray, rectangular desk on the opposite side of the room, stretching nearly from one side of the room to the other. The final significant thing he notices is the figure on the other side of the desk. The figure appears small, like a child, but upon closer inspection, it is obviously not a child at all, but a robot or golem of some mix of ancient and modern nature. It sits lifeless on something resembling an uncomfortable chair.

Gebohq: "Uh... hello?"

No response.

Gebohq: "Hello? Er... I'm here to make an appeal about me being charged with tax evasion? I wonder if it's even on...

Suddenly, the child-like golem's eyes light up, and a small monitor on the desk, facing Gebohq, flickers to life. It simply reads "One Moment Please..."

Gebohq: "Uh, ok."

A chair raises from beneath Gebohq, catching him by surprise in its seat. A few other monitors light up, displaying his profile, various live videos of himself, and a touch screen user-interface of some sort. From all sides of the room, various robotic parts and items of a document-type nature assemble onto the small golem, giving it the appearance of growth, of connection with other parts, barely remaining humanoid in appearance. The touch screen user-interface moves close to Gebohq. It reads "Name" with a blank next to it. Below it is a visual of a touch keyboard.

Gebohq: "You...don't know who I am?"

No response.

Gebohq: "Right then."

Gebohq enters his name onto the touch pad and hits enter. It then reads "Inquiry" and below, several options on various legal issues and the like. Gebohq quickly navigates through the options that apply to him. The screen reads "Processing..." After an inordinate amount of time, the screen then reads "Please wait 4-6 weeks while your appeal is being reviewed." Gebohq immediately bolts up from his chair, brandishing the NeSword.

Gebohq: "Now look here, you bucket of bolts--"

Klaxons begin to ring throughout the System.

Gebohq: "Did I say bucket of bolts? I meant lovely, uh...er..."

Outside the hall, Gebohq can hear a squad of law enforcers moving in on his position. He rushes to the door, slams it shut, and wedges his sword so as to bar the door shut. Moments later, the door shakes and rattles, but the NeSword keeps the door shut.

Gebohq: "Look, I just want to appeal to you. I want to speak with someone who will respond back. I had countless lawyers chasing after me. I'm broke. My career is falling apart. My love life is non-existent. I don't know who my friends and my enemies are, if I should trust Thand or The Last True Evil or anyone anymore and I just need a brea--"

The klaxons turn off, and the commotion outside seems to have died down. Gebohq looks around, confused, and notices a monitor that says "One Moment Please..." and then below it, "loading rod.exe..." in flashing text. The parts that once assembled onto the small golem are now disassembling and rearranging into a more adult-sized humanoid, with a primitive holographic face projected in front of its head. The figure stands up, and approaches Gebohq.

figure: "Hello, Mr. Ohq."

Gebohq: "Hello... Taxman?"

figure: "You may call me Rod. Please, sit down."

Gebohq: "Are you going to listen to me and respond with your own thoughts?"

Rod: "There is no such thing as an original thought. Now, before we begin, please confirm that this man is the one you were referring to earlier."

A screen moves up next to Rod, showing a facial photo of Arkng Thand.

Gebohq: "What?"

Rod: "The man in this photo on the screen -- is he the Thand you spoke of before? Please bear in mind that this photo may be out of date."

Gebohq: "Yes... but why do you ask?"

Rod: "Just a formal inquiry for the records, as everything you say and have said here can be used in the court of law under Section 312 -- pay it no mind."

As Rod is saying this, he dismisses the monitor, which scurries off into a corner, and sits down in a chair that rises from the floor.

Rod: "Now, please, present your appeal."

(NSP: I have an idea for how Gebohq can "succeed" in presenting his appeal and getting off the hook for tax evasion, but I'd like to see if anyone else would like to play with this situation beforehand. Feel free to talk to me if you want to hear my own idea.)

Suddenly, nothing happens.

M.U.S.T. v. B.U.M.P.?

(NSP: Yes, the "v." is both "versus" and "vee" as if saying "we" with an accent. And incidentially, this makes for a six-word story. ZOMG!)

On a tropical island, lush with hibiscus and coconut trees, edged with soft white sand, and girt* by cool blue tropical ocean, Caspian and Sugarless lie side by side sunbaking, holding hands ... aaah.

Caspian: *sitting up with a start* Did you hear something?

Sugarless: *sleepily* Hmmm ... oh, you mean that B.U.M.P. sound. That's just the NeS, trying to shake the writers' apathy.

Caspian: Should we go back then?

Sugarless thinks for a moment, sits up, then lies back down again.

Sugarless: Nah.

Caspian looks over at Sugarless, admiringly.

Caspian: I love it when you're decisive, you know.

Sugarless: *teasingly* Oh yeah, I know you do.

Caspian rolls over, reaching for Sugarless as she gives a low throaty chuckle and ... meanwhile, in New Zealand, on a very high bridge over a very deep gorge, Granny Cal and Thrawn42689 prepare to bungy jump.

Granny Cal: Did I hear a B.U.M.P.?

Thrawn42689: Actually, it was a M.U.S.T. v. B.U.M.P.

Granny Cal: Thought so. Should we be getting back?

Thrawn42689: I suppose we should - but not until after we go tubing in TumuTumu.

Granny Cal: *chuckling* I like the way you think, big boy.

Granny Cal launches herself over the edge yelling "weeeeeeeeeee".

Thrawn42689: What a gal. I'll be sorry to kill her when we are back in NeS.

Thrawn looks genuinely sad for a moment and a little lost and confused. Suddenly he smiles, opens his arms wide and yells "geronimo" as he too launches himself off the bridge.

The narrative gives a loud, scornful Hmmpf! That's the best you can you do? After all this time?

Cali The Writer: Oh shut up! I've been busy. I'm still busy. Quit being such a critic. And by the way, who asked you to comment?

Only trying to be he helpful. But tropical islands? Adventure touring in New Zealand? Where's the creativity in that?

Cali The Writer: Here's something creative. Why don't you take this pineapple and ...

Now, now, no need to be like that. Next!


* girt - the Australian national anthem has a line "Our home is girt by sea" which is often the subject of much amusement. I've often felt compelled to use the word girt in a sentence of my own. I am now complete.

Back at the Haunted House of Heroes, our Other NeS hero’s stare in disbelief as Dr. R. Deep made his announcement. Finally, one of the more experienced of the motley crew spoke up.

Semievil: "Psh. I don't care what Dr. Serious says, he's not dead. Just you wait -- he'll be up and about as if nothing happened, soon enough."

Seraphim: "As unlikely as that is, he has a point.
"(cont.) *to The Patriot* Perhaps we should burn his body, call it a funeral rite."

Voice: "I wouldn't do that if I were you."

*Everyone turns around as a very thin figure wrapped in a concealing black cloak. A hairline of shallow blue flames drifted from the scalp of his leather face mask. His facial features obscured, all but two round eye holes in which billowing blue flames gussied forth like the vomit of the damned.*

Seraphim: "Who are you?"

New Guy #243: "My name is impossible to pronounce without the aid of an extra tongue and three rows of teeth. But I have been refereed to by many as the Phantom-Seraph. I am also your second cousin once removed on your mother's side."

Seraphim: "I was wondering why I kept seeing you at the family reunions..."

Phantom-Seraph: "And I was wondering why you never came to any of my birthday parties. I sent you an invitation every year. For eighteen years! And nothing, nada, zip. And Zilch, even!"

The Partriot: "I hate to interrupt this kisses and hugs fest, but who are you?!"

Phantom-Seraph: "I thought we had already gone over that. Call me Phantom-Seraph. Look, it already says Phantom-Seraph is saying this."

Company Kid: "Well, what use are you? The Last True Evil has been slain!"

Phantom-Seraph: "Bah, I’m not here to join any epic struggle. I’m here to spread bad news and make you wish I had never walked through that door. I’m paid to do it, and by Herman's fuzzy lip, I will fill this weeks quota of destroying dreams and instilling fear." (cont.)

With that Phantom-Seraph stared into The Patriot’s eyes.

(Cont.)*to The Patriot* "Being a celestial messenger of sorts, this would come as no surprise to you that I have a mysterious package which contains a key item which will bring to pass the unlocking of something equally mysterious which I may one day prove to be a useful asset?"

The Patriot: "Wait, what?"

Like a banana falling from a hungry monkeys grasp, a small wrapped package dropped from the boney fingers of the shadowy stranger.

Phantom-Seraph: And now, I must be off, and I wish you all. . .well, less death than I’m sure you’ll be receiving, anyway. Toodles!

A blast of fire sweeps Phantom-Seraph from the center of the room where he burns away into airborne ashes, which fly into the open orifices of the other character's faces.

Sarn: I say we open it.

Semievil: This is a clear cut case of reverse psychology.

CM: Wait, didn't we do this before?

The Patriot: "...right. I think that's our cue to leave."

Dr. R. Deep conjures a portal, and he directs Seraphim and the Company Kid (with the hordes of camera crew) through it, distracting all the other heroes (the ones that haven't already gotten bored and headed back to the kitchen) except Losien, who is crying over The Last True Evil's still body. The Patriot takes the opportunity to lift Losien off of The Last True Evil's body and twirls her close to his own body.

The Patriot: "Young lady..."

The Patriot locks his gaze upon a teary-eyed Losien. The hurt and confusion is apparent, yet...

Losien: "I feel...safer..."

This only serves to make her feel more hurt and confused. The Patriot cups the side of her face.

The Patriot: "This is not the place for someone like you. Come with me, and I'm sure you could make a great apprentice for Seraphim."

Losien: "I... I..."

Losien turns to look back at The Last True Evil, but is jarred out of The Patriot's grasp when she discovers that The Last True Evil's body is no longer there.

Losien: "Where did he go? HELLO? DID SOMEONE MOVE HIM?"

The Patriot: "Young lady--"

Losien: "WHERE DID HE GO?"

The Patriot is about to pursue the hysterical Losien when Dr. R. Deep grabs his arm.

Dr. R. Deep: "We need to get going."

A moment passes, and then The Patriot turns with Dr. R. Deep towards the portal, his expression severing any ties that had recently entangled him. The two walk through, and the portal closes. Meanwhile (NeS count: more than you can shake a stick at!) Losien runs into the Haunted House of Heroes, grabs the first person she sees, and barely restrains from exploding in front of them.

Losien: "WAIRDIHEGO?!?!"

Young: "Uh...I'm sorry, but could you repeat that?"

Instead, Losien just sobs on Young's shoulder.

Young: "Um... er...."

Fortunately, for Young, a number of the heroes heard the commotion made by Losien and stepped in.

Subaru: "Losien, honey, what's wrong?"

Losien: *sniff* "One moment... he was lying on the ground... and I got distracted and... I turned around and... and he was gone..."

Subaru: "Who was gone?"

Losien answers only with violent sobs, however.

Subaru: "Do you mean TLTE?"

Losien shakes her head, almost indistinguishable from her sniffling and sobbing.

Subaru: "Did somebody move his body?"

Mimiru: "I don't think so. I'm pretty sure nobody did, anyway."

Semievil: "HA! I told you! He's probably got up to take a piss. We'll see him by the next post, if not before the end of this one."

Mimiru: "For heaven's sake! Don't go saying things like that!"

Semievil: "Like what? The truth? This is the NeS -- haven't you figured out these things by now?"

CoolMatty: "I don't think that's the case this time. Before hearing Losien, I went to check on the stasis chamber that Miss Fire's been in, and uh... she wasn't there."

Semievil: "So?"

CoolMatty: "Well, I haven't seen some of the others just recently either: Sugarless, that Thrawnbot, the old woman, the angel-lady..."

Semievil: "So they took a stroll."

CoolMatty: "With Miss Fire?"

Semievil: "Well what do you think it is, then? Death by boredom?"

Suddenly, Sarn (as Capt. Sran Capdill) raises his finger as if he just remembered something.

Sran: "..."

He pauses, then leaves the room. The others raise eyebrows at each other. Suddenly, Sran bursts into the room again.

Sran: "TSOLO!"

CoolMatty: "What?"

Sran: "I needed a proper entrance with that thought."

CoolMatty: "I meant what're you talking about?"

Camera-pan to Antestarr, leaning against a wall in the way all mysterious loner-types do.

Antestarr: "I think I might be able to help with that."

Sran: Pfft. How dare you steal my dramatic entrance.

Antestar: Oh, I'm sorry, Sir.

*Antestar's voice drips with sarcasm

Antestar: Why don't you go ahead.

Sran: Ahem.. Much better, Lieutenant. Now then... There's this guy... Tsolo or something.. and he's uhh.. well shoot, I forgot. But he's bad, and we uhh... Bah, Lieutenant why don't you explain it to them.

Antestar: Well basically this guy Tsolo is the Avatar of Loss, and-

Semievil: Sounds creepy. What does that mean.

Antestar: I'm getting to that, but now that I think about it, it's first important to understand the Forgotten. Until recently, forgotten characters would wander aimlessly. If they were "lucky," the characters might go to work for the Damned Corp., where they etch out a meaningless existence in some crappy job, such as the Convinience Store of the Damned. Miss Snowflakes here is an example.

Voodoo: Pfft. My job was *very* important. Everyone else always burned the hotdogs. I had to be there.

Antestar: Voodoo, before Sarn and the others showed up, how long had it been since you'd had a customer at The Convenience Store of the Damned?

Voodoo: I don't want to talk about it.

Antestar: Exactly. Recently, however, there seems to be two new possibilities for forgotten characters. On one hand, they can opt to join The Forgotten -- a group initially gathered by the late Michael McLongname who seem to be winning the hearts of people around the world now. Ford, Maybechild, and some of our friends have even decided to join them.

Everybody looks momentarily at those who once were with the Forgotten, particularly Michael MacFarlane, then look back at Antestarr.

Antestarr: On the other hand, should they continue without purpose, they become easy prey for Tsolo. Its sole purpose is to hunt down "extraneous characters" from the story and remove them. Permanently.

Cool Matty: So if these characters are no longer needed by NeS, why is this a problem?

Antestar: Well, it wouldn't be, except 1) I'm wary of the intentions of the Forgotten and 2) Tsolo's power grows the more it "weeds out" from the story, and it seems to be growing at an alarming rate. The forgotten, even the ones that have found some meager purpose, are not safe anymore. Eventually, even we might not be safe from Tsolo. I've heard the stories of its presence centuries ago, and I feared that the return of the Avatar of Loss would be imminent when I brought Young into the NeS... but anyway, that about sums it up.

Cool Matty: Right... so how do we stop this Avatar of Loss?

Antestar: That I don't know, though I believe Sarn may hold the key.

*Everyone looks to Sarn. He glances up from a hand-held video game, startled.*

Sran: Huh?

Cool Matty: What do you know of this?

Sran: Oh.. Me. Well nothing really. Though I've been given a mission to warn you.

Cool Matty: Some job you've done of that. We already know Tsolo's coming.

Sran: Not about Tsolo. About Kern.

Cool Matty: Kern?

Isn't it about time for a cliff-hanger ending to this post? Will Sran be able to explain Kern's part in this without being distracted by the video game or forgetting what he's talking about? Will TLTE's body be found? Find out in the future on the NeS!

To post-pone that cliffhanger, we now change scenes back to Ford and Maybechild. The two are guided through the hidden All-One facility by Forgotten guards, eventually left to enter by themselves into a conference room. The majority of the room consists of a large, circular table, constructed in a manner where people can walk through and around the middle. Sitting in a seat on the far end of the table is the Forgotten One, formerly known as Twin Suns and now current leader of the Forgotten organization, and standing across from him is Mr. Stafford, a Protector of the Plotfractal and C.E.O. of the Damned Corporation. The two appear to be in the middle of an argument... more accurately, a one-side argument from Mr. Stafford.

Mr. Stafford: "...and if you keep drawing my employees over to your organization, there will be dire consequences. However, I am willing to--"

The Forgotten One notices Ford and Maybechild, turning his attention to them, completely ignoring Mr. Stafford.

Forgotten One: "You've arrived. Come in, sit down..."

He then waves a hand dismissively towards Mr. Stafford.

Forgotten One: *to Mr. Stafford* "Leave. I have other business that requires my attention."

Mr. Stafford: "To hell with you!"

Mr. Stafford thrusts his paperwork into his briefcase, then calmly walks towards the exit, glaring at Ford and Maybechild as they pass each other. With some unease, the two of them then take seats nearby the Forgotten One, but not next to him. Their seating is a moot point, however, as The Forgotten One stands up and begins pacing around in the empty space of the center of the large conference table.

Forgotten One: "I was told that you would have some items of interest with you."

Ford: "Yes... Maybe, show him the urn."

Maybechild rummages through her purse, and produces what appears to be a funeral urn with the word "Mother" written on it.

Ford: "Inside this urn contains what is known as The Dust. According to legend, it can bestow a person with great power, but only at the cost of their character, their principles... a Faustian bargain of sorts. We felt its powers could be handled best by the Forgotten."

Maybe: "You know, because what's forgotten tends to collect dust. Am I right?"

Maybechild smiles, but is only received with deadpan expressions from Ford and the Forgotten One. She chuckles nervously, then sinks in her seat. The Forgotten One picks up the urn, examines it, then places it back down.

Forgotten One: "We have nothing to lose and everything to gain. This will certainly be a great asset."

Ford: "We also brought this."

Ford then presents the dagger that was originally in possession by Sarn Cadrill, used only when the "Kern" personality made itself present. The Forgotten One takes it from Ford's hands and examines it.

Ford: "I'm still trying to research the details on this weapon, but I firmly believe that it is no ordinary dagger."

The Forgotten One hums in thought, purposely pricking his finger on the blade's tip. He hands the dagger back to Ford.

Forgotten One: "Well-made, but it holds no significance otherwise. I have no interest in it, but you may keep it."

Ford: "Um...thanks. I guess."

Maybe: "So how can we help, now that we're part of the group?"

Forgotten One: "You are not one of us Forgotten yet. Guards."

The guards from before enter the room, standing behind Ford and Maybechild.

Forgotten One: "Escort these two to the test chambers, then make an announcement that all Forgotten will register for Dusting immediately."

Guards: "Yes, sir!"

Maybe: "Uh...this isn't what I had in mind..."

Ford: "Can we make a phone call first? This place apparently doesn't get any reception..."

Ford is answered with silence, however, as he and Maybechild are dragged by the guards out of the conference room. Ford turns to Maybechild as they are being dragged.

Ford: "Do you think there'll be cake after the tests?"

Maybe: "That's not funny."

Ford: "Well excuse me! At least I'm trying to end this post with something funny."

Maybe: "Where's a good writer when you need one? Oh right, not with us, I forgot!"

Ford: "And you said I wasn't funny..."

Back at the Haunted House of Heroes, Sran Capdill explains the details concerning Kern. After he finishes, everybody sits in silence, the weight of recent events and the grim events that they face yet bearing heavy. The loss was growing.

Voodoo: "So what now?"

Antestarr sighs, and makes his way for an exit.

Antestarr: "Just forget it. Whatever happens, happens. In any case, I'm stepping out for a bit -- things are getting too serious around here anyway."

*Exit Antestarr*

Semievil: "Damn, I wanted to complain about it being too serious and leave, but now I'll just look like a copycat."

Sran: "Forget it... that's it!"

Voodoo: "What's it?"

Sran: "We'll head for these "Forgotten" people, and reclaim our lost officers and equipment!"

Semievil: "You mean Ford and Maybechild and such?"

Sran: "Yes, crewman."

Semievil: "Didn't we already go over this idea, like, a million times before?"

Sran: "I don't know what you're talking about. This is a brilliantly original plan that I just devised!"

Voodoo: "It might be a good opportunity to knock out two birds with one stone."

Sran: "It's settled then! Now where is that Amal-lad..."

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

While everybody at the Haunted House of Heroes prepares for Amal to story-wield them to the Forgotten's secret headquarters (because it works better if left to the imagination...:ninja:...*coughlazywriterscough*), Gebohq is still attempting to appeal his case with Rod, the Taxman, with little luck.

Geb: "Uh... what about my hero-related mission that kept me out of this dimension?"

Rod: "We've been over this already -- that alone is not enough for an extension on your tax returns. Now, if there is nothing else, this appeal will have to be closed."

Geb: "But...uh..."

Conveniently, a commotion is heard outside the office. Rod takes notice, holding out a stopping hand towards Gebohq as he turns on a nearby monitor.

Rod: *to Geb* "Please hold on."

The monitor shows the outside of the office, where guys with guns are apparently questioning the presence of a familiar NeS character...

Geb: "Antestarr? Wait..."

Rod: "TK-421, what is the problem?"

One of the guys with guns holds a hand up to his ear, and his voice is heard over an intercom in the office.

TK-421: "Sir, I wish you'd stop calling me that. My name is Larry, and TK-421 was a clerical error in my paperwork that I've tried to have corrected for three years now!"

Rod: "Nevermind that now, TK-421. Report."

Larry: "Right, sir. This man was simply looking for the place to fill out Medicare paperwork, and apparently got lost. We're sending him to the right office now, sir. The situation is under control."

Rod: "If that is all--"

Geb: "Wait! I wish to appeal on the grounds that I have died within the last year, and that man will be my witness!"

Rod scrutinizes Gebohq.

Rod: "You died."

Geb: "Yes, and I can prove it with him as a witness!"

Rod: "...very well, then. TK-421, have that man brought into my office."

Larry: "Yes, sir."

The office door opens briefly, and Antestarr is violently thrown into the office.

Antestarr: "If this is about the llama-smuggling ring back in '92, I swear that-- oh. Hi Geb."

Rod: "You have been summoned here to testify as witness to Mr. Ohq's tax evasion appeal on the grounds that he quote "recently died within the last year" unquote. I am deviating from standard procedure, in this case, and will require that you describe the scene at which Mr. Ohq here allegedly died. Please state your name for the record."

Antestarr: "Uh...Antestarr. Just Antestarr."

Rod: "Relation to Mr. Ohq."

Antestarr: "...acquaintance."

Rod: "Are you a member of the Bon Jour Burby fan club?"

Antestarr: "No."

Rod: "Then please proceed."

Antestarr: "...I don't recall this man dying within the past year."

Geb: "Back in NeShattered, when I was fighting my evil--!"

Rod: "Please do not talk to the witness, Mr. Ohq. *to Antestarr* Is this your official answer."

Antestarr looks at Gebohq, and Gebohq is pleading with his eyes towards Antestarr. Antestarr sighs.

Antestarr: "No. I do recall now a time in the last year when this man died, and I was, in fact, there to see it..."

Antestarr then proceeded to explain the events of the last story-arc, focusing on the battle between Gebohq and Gebiyl.

Antestarr: "...and as this man's double knocked Gebohq down, Gebohq's assailant raised his sword for the killing blow when..."

Antestarr pauses, then covers his mouth to cough, a little blood present now in his hand.

Antestarr: "Excuse me. My condition got the better of me. I'm hoping Medicare will cover Hyper Time Modulator-related injuries."

Rod: "Please keep to the topic at hand. Continue."

Antestarr: "Yes. As I was saying, Gebohq's assailant raised his sword for the killing blow when Gebohq tried one last attempt to escape. He failed, however, and his assailant stabbed him through the heart. As for how Gebohq is here now..."

Gebohq looks at Antestarr as he had said that lie, then stares into space as Antestarr finishes explaining the events of the last story-arc. After finishing his account, Rod seems appeased, turning to address Gebohq as an afterthought.

Rod: "Is this account true?"

Gebohq looks back at Antestarr, and Antestarr simply looks without emotion at Gebohq.

Geb: "Yes."

Rod: "Very well then. From what I have heard, you will be granted permission for an extension on this year's tax returns. However, since you evaded arrest for your previous charge of tax evasion, your hero license will be suspended for at least--"

The next story-arc. That's what the Taxman said. Don't believe me? Too bad.

Rod: "--upon which your hero license will be subject to review. Any heroic actions taken during that time will automatically award you ten to twenty years in jail with no bail."

Geb: "What?!"

Rod: "Thank you for your cooperation. Have a good day."

Camera-cut to outside the office, where Gebohq and Antestarr are ejected violently into the System hallway. The two collect themselves.

Antestarr: "Well, I think that went well."

Geb: "Well?"

Antestarr: "You're welcome. Now, if there isn't anything else, I'm off to file for Medicare..."

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

Meanwhile (NeS count: 274 miles and still running), deep within the Forgotten's secret headquarters, all the forgotten characters have been summoned for Dust registration in an "Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Ark"-style warehouse space. Disguised within the crowd are all the hero-types from the Haunted House of Heroes, formulating their plan of action.

Voodoo: "So what's our plan of action now?"

Semievil: "We have a plan?"

Voodoo: "Why didn't we think of something before we left?"

Voodoosnowflakes is only answered, however, by the lights going out. The klaxons sound, and dramatic emergency lights turn on.

Sran: "We've been discovered! Quick, we'll form into three fire--"

Voodoo: "No, wait! Look!"

The heroes watch as the dark figures that once accompanied Tsolo now appear reaching from the darkness, holding some Forgotten into place while pulling others into the darkness. Naturally, chaos ensues.

The Forgotten One: "EVERYONE STICK TOGETHER! Time to alter the plans..."

The Forgotten One takes the urn with the Dust inside, opens it, and dumps the contents on himself. The Dust appears to be enveloping his figure, an ominous air surrounding him...

Semievil: "...fuq."

Voodoo: "Do you have to say that?"

WHO WILL WIN IN THIS EPIC FIGHT BETWEEN THE FORCES OF THE FORGOTTEN AND OF LOSS? WILL THE NEVER-ENDING STORY ITSELF FALL CASUALTY TO BEING FORGOTTEN AND LOST? WHY AM I SCREAMING? I DON'T KNOW!

(Non-story note: Please see the workshop thread for what thoughts I have on the matter.)

Somewhere in the world of NeS, in a boring, suburban town where gentle greens and gray sidewalks run across its landscape, a librarian lives. This librarian is not unlike the town she lives in -- she is certainly not the most exciting (yet neither the most unpleasant) person to have had such a story revolve around before. In fact, she has several stories... stories that she is carrying with her to the library. After all, she is a librarian. This isn't rocket-science, dear readers.

The librarian enters the small library building -- a building, like the rest of the town, which is neither new nor old, a place that leaves the audience really hoping that something interesting and relevant (though mostly just interesting) will happen already. Well tough! I have some more descriptions to throw around, so you're going to read it! Hey! Stop skimming for something better! Keep focused, and I'll mention something entertaining right now. For instance, just before the scene turns to inside the library, a mailman runs past, screaming in terror, as a clone of Napoleon Bonaparte chases behind him on a customized Segway pulled by two grizzly bears. And the bears are on fire. But the bears are fine. In fact, they find the fire fashionable and fun. See? Now keep reading.

Inside the building, the librarian stops for a moment, placing the books down on a counter so that she can adjust her glasses and her black hair back. Picking the books back up, she resumes through the library, attracting the attention of the children waiting for her. See, today was the day she will tell a story, and living in a boring suburban town denied access to television, video games, and the Internet more than the Amish (due to a conspiracy plot perpetrated by higher authorities involving flannel shirts), the children look forward to hearing a story from this librarian. She holds up her finger to her mouth (as the children were getting a little loud) and leads them to a separate room. The librarian sits down, and the children sit around her... as much sitting as bouncing will allow.

random kid #1: "What story are you telling today, Ms. Morris?"

random kid #2: "Tell the story of The Seraphim's New Clothes!"

random kid #3: "No, read The Patriot Game!"

random kid #1: "The Patriot doesn't have a story called that!"

random kid #3: "I meant the Irish ballad!"

If the children would stop making a ruckus, Ms. Morris the librarian could proceed.

random kid #4: "Can you tell the voice-man to go away, Ms. Morris?"

Not a chance! Miss Morris is the one that invited me here in the first place. I'm going to help tell the story today!

All the children moan and complai-- hey! I'm good at this stuff! It's my job, after all. After Miss Morris settles you all down, we can begin to tell a completely true story ( ) about a little-known professional hero named Gebohq, and the tale of how he pursued a man known as The Last True Evil through the Thread of Perils...

random annoying kid: "Why is the hero chasing him?"

I'll tell you that later. Now--

random annoying kid: "What's the Thread of Perils? Is this story actually true? Where should I look when I'm talking to you? How--"

Miss Morris gives the random annoying kid a juice box, and the kid promptly ceases to be noisy.

randon annoying kid: *sip sip*

I said "ceases to be noisy!"

random annoying kid: "..."

That's better. Any other questions about the story, which answering would destroy the purpose of me telling the story in the first place? Good. On with the story then...

(Non-story note: Despite the elaborate set-up I have in this post, the purpose of this is merely a set-up that will allow me, and anyone else if they wish, to write for a NeS-style sidestory without actually being part of the "plot" -- it's essentially like any other NeS post from this point on, except the truthfulness of the Narrator's story is unreliable at best and horrible lying at worst. He's making up a story to entertain the children (who can be like a random audience member), and my only "plan" here is to keep this as free as possible, so that I can feel like I can contribute to NeS when I don't have any ideas for the actual story, so please keep that in mind if you decide to write for this psuedo-story. Also, please avoid writing about Ms. Morris -- a strange request, I know, but I have my reasons.)

meanwhile somewhere fairly far away from our heroes and in a situation completely unrelated to the story thus far (or IS it... dun dun dun!).. ahem. anyways, as the narrator was saying... somewhere fairly far away...a woman of about 20, blonde, average in height yet held within her demeanor great authority, and another man a little older than she were traveling through a generic forest. Both in what they deem the usual wear of the people's of this region of the universe: blue jeans and t-shirts. the woman's, of course, was form-fitted and her signature black... and the man's was beige. The man is quite tall and "built" to serve as a bodygaurd of sorts. We meet with the character's as they are taking a break from their journey....

Elana: I need food. Now.

Minion: Yes right away! *fumbles through the 70 pound pack he is carrying*

Elana: When I said I needed food, I meant NOW!!! *tazes Minion*

Minion: *convulsing* SoRR-REEE! I am HuRRREEE-ING!! AHHH!!!!

Elana: hehehe

Minion: *recovers yet still twitching* Here's a box of Cocoa-Rocks: Yummy choco-cereal. *shaking, he hands it to her*

Elana: It took you long enough, sheese.
*she opens the box, but upon opening the box of cereal, the inner bag bursts open and cereal is scattered everywhere, namely the ground*
AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!! HOW DARE YOU GIVE ME A FAULTY BOX OF CEREAL!!!! NOW YOU MUST PICK UP EVERY MORSEL!!!!

Minion: *drops to the ground and starts picking up each and every cocoa-rock.* I am sorry... I am so sorry.

Elana: Oh I BET you are!! *she kicks him over*

Minion: *cries in fetal postion*

Elana: Oh stop. You are a man for crying out loud. Anyway, can you remind me why we are on this horrible journey through this less than specacular forest?

Minion: We are on the journey to find Trader Moe. His hut is supposedly in this particular forest.

Elana: Yes, yes. And why is finding Trader Moe so very important.

Minion: Finding Trader Moe is important because he, er... stole your cat.

Elana: Yes. And remember what we are going to do to him?

Minion: Get your cat back?

Elana: Yes.

Minion: *smiles in triumph*

Elana: But you are forgetting another IMPORTANT detail.

Minion: Ummm.... I am?

Elana: Yes you MORON!!!! *she tazes him again*

Minion: AHHhhhHHHHHhhhh!!!!!!!

Elana: We must KILL Trader Moe!! He sold secrets to enemy nations about how to best inflitrate MY beautiful, power, and wealthy nation of unsurpassed glory. This I could not entrust this mission to any old minion of mine, that's why I had to take it upon myself. And YOU are chosen as the BEST minion amongst the rest. YOU should feel greatly honored by the constant tazes you receive.

Minion: Yes, I am. Very honored. But.... my grand-highness... is 'Trader Moe' your EX romantic interest?

Elana: SHUT YOUR FILTHY MOUTH!! *tazes him somemore*

Minion: *goes unconscious*

Elana: That's right, sleep on the job.

Meanwhile (NeS post count ? ) at the Forgotten HQ

Sran: Fireteams advance!

Voodoo: Wait! Captain. May I make a suggestion first?

Sran: Go ahead.

Voodoo: Sir, That we figure out what the plan is first before advancing?

Tsolo lets go of some of the forgotten characters that he had in his paralyzing grasp and turns his attention to the Forgotten One.

....

Meanwhile at a Damned Super Center, chaos also takes place even in the lines. Women appear to be practicing fumble drills diving for the last of the popular but annoying talking toy. While their friend videotapes, someone smashes electronics in the parking lot .

(NSN: Another installment of this pseudo-story segment I'll call, erm... Some Pseudo Story. Yes. Onward with SPS!)

Across a desert wasteland, a tumbleweed passes, and Gebohq chases the man in black--

TLTE: "For Pete's sake, Geb! If you're going to mess with the story, could you try being a little more original?"

Geb: "I am being original!"

TLTE: "Parodying two things at once doesn't count."

Geb: "Oh fine. You're such a party-pooper."

Gebohq waves his hand as if to tell someone to go away, and the desert setting falls back in an instant, revealing a black and white magical corridor that slopes slightly downward past a premature horizon line. Gebohq continues pursuing The Last True Evil down the corridor on foot.

Geb: "TLTE, stop!"

The Last True Evil stops, then spins around towards Gebohq.

TLTE: "Hammer time!"

Geb: "What?"

With a sly smile, The Last True Evil whips out a giant Soviet-style sledgehammer and thwacks the ground with it. The floor beneath and around Gebohq crumbles, and Gebohq desperately attempts to rush towards The Last True Evil (and stable ground). The ground collapses into the dark unknown surrounding the magical corridor too soon, however, and Gebohq leaps, barely grabbing onto the newly-formed edge by The Last True Evil's feet.

TLTE: "In the spirit of sportsmanship and, well, stupidity, instead of knocking you off the edge, I'll--"

As The Last True Evil is speaking, Gebohq attempts to pull himself up. The Last True Evil steps on one of his hands, making Gebohq scream in pain and nearly fall.

TLTE: "I wasn't done yet. As I was saying, instead of me ending your life now, I'll just be on my way. Maybe I'll see you down the road? Or maybe that thing will kill you first."

Geb: "What thing?"

TLTE: "Ta-ta!"

The Last True Evil runs down the corridor and out of the scene. Gebohq raises his head above the edge to see that thing coming towards him. Oh, what a cliffhanger!

Geb: "I try. But please, continue quickly, or else this cliffhanger will fail in more ways than one."

Oh shush. Silly back-talking characters...

yet, someone had aids. But who was it?

In the Forgotten Headquarters...

Sran: Ok, Miss Snowflakes. I've figured it out. Those guys over there *Sran points at Tsolo and The Forgotten One, locked in combat* are bad. So... I think we'll split Fireteam Alpha in to two... sub-fire... teams.. uhh.. Sub-Fireteam Alpha One, and Sub Fireteam Alpha-

*Sran suddenly stops talking. A confused, almost pained expression comes over his face.*

Voodoo: Two?

Sran: Uhh.. Yeah... And so then Sub-Fireteam Alpha... uhh One, will advance on Tsolo, while Sub-Fireteam Alp- err.. the other one, will advance on The Forgotten One, and we'll meet in the midd-

Sran abruptly drops to the floor with a thud, unconcious.

Voodoo: Sar.. err Captain?

Voodoo rushes towards him...

Meanwhile, in Sarn's dreams...

Sarn: Captain. You're back.

Sarn sits near the fireplace, a steaming mug cradled in his hands. His countenance seems much improved since we last left him in this dream state.

Sran: It's good to see you well, Sarn. But why am I here?

Sarn: What, you didn't come to visit?

Sran: No. Now is not the best time for that. The others need me. You didn't call me?

Kern: No, Captain. It was I who called you.

Kern steps into the room. Sarn stands to meet him.

Sarn: Leave this place. You are no friend of mine!

Both Sarn and Kern stagger back simultaneously. Sarn catches himself against the sofa he'd been relaxing in moments before.

Kern: Please, you must accept me into this place. We have little time.

Sarn grits his teeth and transfers his weight back to his feet. The effort leaves him panting for breath. A sheen of sweat breaks out on Kern's forehead, and his brow furrows slightly.

Kern: You must stop struggling. I do not wish to hurt you again.

Sarn: Then maybe... we do not... have much.. in common!

Sarn lunges forward, his right hand curled into a fist aimed at Kern's face. Kern tenses. Sarn is thrown backwards into the chair. Kern falls to one knee. He is sweating profusely now, and breathing heavily.

Kern: Good, Sarn. You grow stronger. You are learning the rules of this place. But you cannot hope to defeat me... and you are expending your energies... in the wrong place. I am not your enemy.

Sarn: Your.. actions thus far, do... not instill.. confidence.

Suddenly, Voodoo's voice can be heard from far away, as if coming from another room.

Voodoo: Sarn! Captain! Whoever you are right now, come back to us. We need you here...

Kern: Sarn, you must let me go to her. Please stop resisting. I can lead her and your other friends through this trial.

Sarn: Or maybe I can... lead them through.. myself.

Kern: You know what Tsolo is capable of. Perhaps in time you may be able to face him. But you are not ready. Look.. You cannot even stand.

Sarn places his hands on the armrests of the sofa, and tries to push himself up. He collapses back. Conflict battles in his eyes. Finally, resolve.

Sarn: Very well. Go to them. But do not expect me to allow you in the future without a fight.

Kern: If I succeed, there will be no need for that.

Kern stands, takes a deep breath, and leaves the room.

Back in the Forgotten Headquarters, Sarn's eyes flutter and come open.

Voodoo: Sarn?

Kern: No.

Voodoo: You. What are you doing here? Sarn doesn't want you here!

Kern stands to his feet.

Kern: Sarn and I are in agreeance. He has given me control for the sake of his friends. Now.. Let's deal with Tsolo.

Kern reaches under his jacket. His hand comes away empty.

Kern: What? My dagger! Where is it?

(NSN: Another installment of Some Pseudo Story, or perhaps just Pseudo Story, and then we could call this post a PSP instead of a SPS post. Yes. Oh the confusion!)

As Gebohq hangs on for dear life, he notices "that thing" is, in fact, an attractive woman.

Gebohq: "Geez, The Last True Evil is quite sexist, calling a woman "that thing." In any case, it's about time! I've been hanging on this cliff side for far too long!"

Will you stop breaking the fourth wall so much, Gebohq? It's confusion the children here.

Child #1: "I just figured you were crazy."

Child #2: "But that's OK -- you're funny-fun!"

Child #1: "But quit stalling on the story, or we might start being annoyingly active."

And alliterate to boot. Fine, fine... but don't come crying to me when the characters start ruining the story! Anyway, as I was saying, Gebohq notices that the attractive woman is approaching him.

Gebohq: "I like where this is going, but first thing's first -- help!"

Woman: "Keep hanging in there! I'll be with you."

Gebohq: "Yay!"

Woman: "By the way, did you happen to see an attractive Russian man pass by here?"

Gebohq: "Uh, well, there was the guy who left me in this situation, heading off down the corridor, but I don't think--"

Woman: "Thanks! You're a great guy!"

The attractive woman promptly leaves Gebohq and heads towards the direction that The Last True Evil was last seen.

Gebohq: "Wow, talk about killing my hopes. Maybe I should just let go and be done with this torment."

Wait until the next post, so that we can end this with a cliffhanger!

Gebohq: "That's getting old quick. Give me a better reason to keep pressing on with this laughable drama -- please!"

Uh...

*Meanwhile, back at the secret Tax base thing Antestarr and Gebohq are about to make their much-anticipated exit...*

Antestarr: Well, see you around, Geb.

Gebohq: Wait, my hero comm-link is ringing!

Antestarr: You mean your cellphone?

Gebohq: Quiet, offical NeS Hero Communications are transpiring. (in phone) Hello?

Voodoo: Geb! We've got a problem here! Sarn's gone crazy again and he's about to get himself killed!

Gebohq: Oh that's easy, you just get the whacking stick and distract him a bit -

Voodoo: No, he doesn't think he's a space captain. It's something else. He's going up against Tsolo!

*Ante leans in close to Geb's phone.*

Antestarr: Sounds serious. Or at least less ridiculous than the usual insanity.

Gebohq: Requisition your own communicator!

Antestarr: You mean cellphone.

Gebohq: Okay, don't worry Voodoosnowflakes. I've just finished defeatening the bureaucratic lackeys of the tax department and as of now we are officialy NeS Heroes On The Case!

Antestarr: Actually, I think I might have more paperwork to fill out or something.

Gebohq: Not this time, Ante. Let's rock and roll and move out and get it on!

Antestarr: It seems like all this red tape is going to your head.

Rod: Hold it!

*The heroes turn to see Rod the taxman exiting his office.*

Rod: I would make a sarcastic remark about how you seem to have forgotten me suspending your hero license, but we finished speaking literally thirty seconds ago.

Gebohq: It's not that I forgot, it's just that when you were saying that thing about stuff I was watching the Goodyear blimp out the window.

Rod: Well, in any case you've committed a clear violation of the International Heroism Act as per article twenty, subsection three, paragraph nine, and as such I will be forced to administer punishment.

Gebohq: But how did you know?

Rod: You were screaming about saving the day right outside my office.

*The camera pans back to reveal Geb, Ante and Rod standing right beside a door marked 'Roderick A. Roddington, Chief Taxation Agent'. Ante rolls his eyes.*

Antestarr: Foiled again!

*Geb perpares to launch into a long agrument with Ante about how these things can happen to anyone Rod pulls out a syringe and pokes it into Geb's arm.*

Gebohq: Hey hey hey what are you doing?

Rod: Administering the official punishment.

Gebohq: I hate needles!

*Rod withdraws the empty needle and pulls out a lollipop.*

Rod: And having administered the official punishment I am now forced to administer the official lollipop.

Gebohq: I love lollipops!

Antestarr: So what exactly did you just shoot him full of?

Rod: A simple behavioural inhibitor. It redirects mental energy from one area of the brain to another. In his case, any heroic thoughts will be chemically altered into ideas relating to rap music.

Antestarr: Wow, that's totally crazy.

Rod: It helps us enforce the regulations. Side effects my include ill scratches, breakdancing and the creation of number-one hits.

Antestarr: Let's test it out! (to Geb) Okay Geb, Sarn's in trouble! What should we do?

*Geb begins dancing out a beat.*

Geb:

Yo yo ba-doom what?
My name is Geb!
As of now my heroics
Are suh-suspen-ed!

Antestarr: Oh man, this is awesome! I have got to show this to the guys!

*Ante and Geb make to leave.*

Rod: But Mr. Starr, we still have to do your medicare paperwork.

*Rod gestures to an enormous stack of paper.*

Ante: Uh yeah, you know what? Never mind about that. I feel better already.

Rod: Are you sure -

Ante: Yeah yeah. I think it was the healing power of music. Bye!

*Ante and Geb leave the tax fortress and begin to make their way back to Forgotten HQ...*

Voodoo: (in phone) Geb? Hello? Are you still there?

Some crates fall down and crack open behind her and lost and forgotten socks spill out

Voodoo: (in phone)I can't loose him Geb! I need your help!

The phone then beeps as the call gets disconnected.


.......

Ante: Help me your my only hope!

Geb:

I fought the system and it fought me
Because you see
the system It lacks simplicity
Piles and piles of paper
up so many miles you'll reach your maker...

......

Kern: Do you know where my dagger went?

Sem: Well now is not the best time to have a nice chat updating you on what has happened while you have been hiding. But, Maybechild, Ford and ... and I can't remember who, took off with the dust and that dagger and said they were heading here. It can't be too far away.

*Ante and Geb arrive at Forgotten HQ just in time to see Tsolo begin to wallop Sarn/Kern.*

Voodoo: Thank goodness you're here!

*Sarn charges at Tsolo, only to find himself flung back against the wall by some invisible force.*

Sarn: Ow.

Voodoo: Okay, so I think we're packing enough firepower to take him down, or at least distract him so Sarn can get to safety.

*Voodoo pulls out a pistol.*

Voodoo: Let's make it happen.

Antestarr: Yeah, that's actually going to get sort of complicated.

*Voodoo looks on a Geb pulls out a drum machine and programs up a beat.*

Voodoo: Uh, my idea was to shoot him with bullets...like, from a gun.

*Voodoo's remark is punctuated by the sound of Tsolo's improbable powers repeatedly slamming Sarn against a vending machine.*

Semievil: Hey, free candy!

*Sem runs over to gather some fallen skittles.*

Semievil: Thanks you guys!

Sarn: You're welcome...oof...

*Sarn's reply is cut short as the invisible grip of Tsolo rakes his body across the bar, smashing beer bottles with his face. Meanwhile, having set up some sick beats, Geb turns on his drum machine and moonwalks in front of the crew. *

Geb:
Yow! What be the stupid attack
His name is Sem and he wanted a snack
Word up to your momma and I'm in your face what?
Semievil
Uh
Bringing it back

*Sem grins and gives a thumbs-up from his candy-scavenging position. In the background, Sarn's beating continues.*

(NSP: you should refer to him as Kern, in his present state, fyi)

Kern and Tsolo duke it out, while The Forgotten One (who seems to have been forgotten by Tracer) stands nearby. Kern is being pummeled, but, in spite of the beating, seems unharmed. He charges back in at Tsolo. After a few moments of blurry combat, he is once again knocked backwards. He stands. Tsolo stands back in a ready stance (classically avoiding pressing his advantage due to standard evil villian story conventions).

Kern: This is no use. I need my dagger! Does anyone know where it is?

Semieval glances up, his face covered in chocolate, several half-eaten candy bars gripped in his hands.

Semievil: I think Ford has it.

Kern: Well where is this Ford?

*Semievil shrugs*

Suddenly, for the benefit of story convention, Ford and Maybechild walk into the room.

Ford: "Oh guys! What's up?

Kern: Who are you?

Ford: Oh great. Something's wrong with Sarn again. What'd you guys do with the stick?

Kern once against gets whalloped by Tsolo. Geb starts strutting around flashing gang signs.

Geb:
Everyone up in her at da HQ.
shut yo mouves so i ken tell ya what i'll do.
I'll pull out da NeSword an run ya thru.
laugh well yer blood pools up on da flo' undah you.

Ford: eh?

Ford: I got a better idea, Geb. Lemme try out this Por--*cough* Mortal gun I just got.

Ford whips out a sleek, futuristic-style mini-cannon of a weapon. That is, a sleek, futuristic-style mini-cannon that appears to be made from second-rate parts by a third-world country.

Voodoo: Poor mortal gun?

Ford: Something like that. It's the knife in the back of the non-forgotten -- a character's literary immortality can be displaced with a shot from this gun. Well, in theory, anyway. I can't tell if this thing displaces with a second shot's target or if it's just borked.

Maybe: Mine broke after I looked at it funny... :/

Kern: *to Ford* You have something of mine, I believe.

Ford: What? Oh right, the dagger.

Ford pulls out Kern's dagger, examining it curiously.

Ford: I still think this thing is more useful than it appears, so I'm not sure if I should part with it without first-- HEY!

Kern, now in possession of the dagger, resumes his battle against Tsolo, lost in the darkness and chaos.

Voodoo: This is our chance! Michael can convince the Forgotten to stop all this nonsense, or better yet, we can have Geb--

Voodoo looks at Gebohq, who appears more like a stereotypical thug rapper than a hero at the moment.

Voodoo: ...or Amal or Young fix this craziness up in a jiffy! Erm... hey Sem, where did they all go?

Semievil: I 'unnno. In any case, why bother? Let the Forgotten and Tsolo and whomever deal with each other. It's their problem now. Let's just go and do something better.

Voodoo: But...but... Geb! Tell him we can't just leave!

Geb: How to wrap
up this arc
With a rap?
I'm in the dark

Voodoo: ...

Semievil: I feel your pain.

*Suddenly, in a flash of snow eight reindeer and a sleigh arrive in Forgotten HQ!*

Santa Guy: Ho ho ho! Merry Christmas!

Voodoo: ...what.

Semievil: Boom!

Santa: Merry Christmas!

*Santa begins throwing wrapped presents and candy canes around.*

Semievil: More candy! Sweet!

Antestarr: No way. I always thought Santa Claus was just a story concocted by parents for their young children.

Voodoo: That isn't Santa. He's not even fat!

*'Santa' reaches a gloved hand up to his snow-white beard and tugs, reavealing the face of none other than...*

Everybody (except Kern who is still taking his beatings somewhere in the room): Sok Monkey!

Sok Monkey: Yes, I'm back! And with a vengeance.

*Sok Monkey pulls out an M4 carbine.*

MaybeChild: But how did you survive getting eaten by Godzilla in an alternate dimension?

Sok Monkey: Well, just when I thought I was done for Professor Oppenheimer used his experimental teleportation device to beam me back to his hidden undersea headquarters. From there I was briefed on an evil menace threatening to evaporate the free world's water supplies.

Gebohq: Wow, that sounds so much more exciting than that thing we did!

Antestarr: But why are you dressed as Santa Claus?

*In the background, Kern smashes a pool cue over Tsolo's head. In return Tsolo levitates the entire pool table and drops it on Kern.*

Sok Monkey: Well, when I infiltrated the secret conspiracy base I came upon a race of tiny aliens being experimented on by the shadow governmnet. Working together, we managed to break out of the facility and escape into deep space in one of their captured spaceships!

Semievil: Neat.

Sok Monkey: And then we flew to the Andromeda galaxy where I met the ghost of Christmas past who hired me to track down and exterminate the Super-Penguins, who had kidnapped Santa Claus from the North Pole to the South. Pole.

Antestarr: Well, your completely unverifiable story about people none of us have ever heard of is very interesting and all, but we've got bigger things to worry about.

Sok Monkey: And then the war council decided that I should impersonate Santa, so as to get close to the infiltrators who initially betrayed him. And that I should kill those betraying infiltrators.

Antestarr: Right, but-

Sok Monkey: Binfiltraitors.

Antestarr: Um -

Sok Monkey: So anyways, what's new with you guys?

Gebohq: I'm a recording artist!

Meanwhile, in the World of Writingcraft--erm, that is, the Writers' realm...

Geb the writer: A story post, for me? You shouldn't have! It's the perfect Christmas present you could give me!

Ante the writer: Uh... there's no story post.

Geb the writer: Well of course there isn't one yet! It's still Christmas Eve! But I know it'll be there -- Santa will have them there!

TLTE the writer: Uh...sure. Look, the rest of us are over here, having fun at an actual office party with actual presents. Come take a break and join the festivities.

Geb the writer: Oh al-right. Let me just put up a quick thing...

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

Back in the Story realm...

Sok Munkey: Oh yes, I almost forgot. Voodoo, since you've been good this year, you get a wonderful present.

Sok Munkey hands Voodoosnowflakes a present, which is tagged "Do Not Open Until Christmas."

Voodoo: Um... should I open it then?

Semievil: Hey, if it's not Christmas here, it's Christmas somewhere in the world, right?

Antestarr: But that's not how... *sigh* nevermind.

Gebohq: Oo-oo! Do I get a present too?

Sok Munkey: No. You've been bad. Here's your coal.

Sok Munkey drops a pile of coal at Gebohq's feet.

Gebohq:

WHAT'S INSIDE THE PRESENT? IS IT THE MYSTERY BOX ALL OVER AGAIN? FIND OUT IN OUR NEXT HALF-ASSED HOLIDAY-THEMED POST!

Voodoo takes her time peeling off the gift wrap and then opens the box.

Voodoo: How did you know?

She gives Sok Monkey Santa a hug.

Semievil: What is it?

Voodoo just grins and pulls out a pair of scissors and several sheets of paper. She folds one piece of paper with care and starts to cut out little shapes.

Geb gives the bag of coal a little kick.

Voodoo starts to make some finishing touches on the paper and then unfolds it to reveal a pretty paper snowflake.

Meanwhile... on the other side of the room... Kern is thrown across the room by an unseen hand. His body fetches up against a wall. He stands and shakes his head.

Kern: Uhh... Guys? Can we get back to the story? I'm starting to get... tired.

Everyone glances over at Kern.

Sok Munkey: Now then... Lets see what other gifts I have in here...

Kern is forgotten as the other heroes crowd around Sok Munkey looking for presents.

Kern: ...Figures.

Kern, now weilding his dagger, charges at Tsolo. About halfway to him, Tsolo raises his hand. Kern seems to run head-on into an invisible brick wall. He falls back.

Kern: Ouch.

At this point, Voodoo, having already received her present from Sok Munkey, has grown bored with him, and looks back in time to see Kern's most recent punishment.

Voodoo: That's my boyfriend's body you're abusing!

Voodoo grabs the port- err.. mortal gun from Ford and turns on Tsolo. She fires. A bolt of orange light streaks across the room towards Tsolo. He once again raises his hand. The bolt freezes in midair.

Tsolo: Silly child.

Tsolo raises his other hand and swings it to one side, as if batting at an imaginary fly. Voodoo is thrown backwards. Tsolo waves his other hand and the orange bolt changes course and shoots towards Kern. Kern has no time to react, and the bolt hits him squarely in the chest. He flies back, and smashes against the wall with a sickening thud. Tsolo turns on The Forgotten One.

Kern loses conciousness and drifts into the dream world. He finds himself in the room with the fireplace. Sarn and Sran sit opposite each other, playing cards.

Sarn: Go fish! Ha!

Sran: Aww man...

Kern: Oh come on. I'm out there taking a beating and you guys are playing cards?

Sarn: Well it's not like we can really do anything. Wait a minute. Who's watching over my body if we're all in here? And why do I feel like I'm being.. pulled.

Kern: I'm.. not sure. I was hit with some kind of energy bolt. I've heard of such things. But I'm afraid I've not done much research on the subject.

Sran: So what do you know?

Kern: Some devices have been created to... assist in the transition from one body to the next. I may have unknowingly been hit with such a device.

All three of them begin to show signs of strain.

Sarn: I'm not.. being assisted. I'm being dragged. I don't want.. to transition to another.. body.

Kern: Unfortunatly these devices are very difficult... to control. I fear the situation is more dire than you realize.

Sarn: And.. why is that?

Sarn's fingers tighten their grip on his armrests. Sweat breaks out on his forehead. Kern leans against a wall, beginning to breathe heavy.

Kern: If... a host is not.. in direct contact... a transition cannot.. be completed.

Sran: What does that.. mean in Intergalactic... Standard?

Kern: In short... if we are pulled.. from this body... without a.. new host touching it... we will... float aimlessly... for the rest... of eternity... And Sarn's... body will... die.

Sarn: So... how do.. we stop it?

Kern: Can't.. be stopped... unless... one of us.. is drawn out.

Sarn's eyes narrow as he begins to perceive an alternate force acting on him.

Sarn: What.. are you.. doing?

Kern: I have.. no intention of.. being the one... pushed out.

Sarn: No!

Sarn grits his teeth and stands. Kern staggers back.

Kern: Pitiful.. Is that.. the best.. you've got?

Kern raises his hands. He takes a slow, deliberate step towards Sarn. Sarn grunts and plants his feet, straining against an invisible force.

In the writers realm, Phoenix301 the Writer has just arrived. She stands outside of an unfamiliar office building, looking at an addressed card in her hand. Tucked under her other arm is a white baker goods box, not unlike those a cake comes in. On top a red bow serves as decoration. She stares at the card: an invitation to a Christmas party she had received in the mail a few days before. A short handwritten greeting is on the inside.

"Welcome to the Writers Realm Phoenix 301! Please come and join us for our holiday celebration. Oh, and don't forget to write something!!...please?"

Unsure of what else to do, Phoenix301 the Writer decides she might as well see what this 'writing' is all about. She steps forward into the building and looks around in the inside, wondering where the party is. It is not long before she can hear talking and cheesy Christmas music playing from behind a door marked "Conference room"

PtW: I wonder who these people are...oh well, I guess if nothing else I can have a good time and eat these yummy doughnuts!

PtW knocks on the door and opens it, and is greeted by a party of what she assumes are other writers. They seem overjoyed a new writer is among them.

PtW: ehh..uhmm.. Hi!... I got this invitation, so uh..well I didn't know what to bring but, here are some doughnuts!

Geb the Writer: Oh boy!!!! Doughnuts!!!

Step back in time to the not-so-distant past. A motley band is leaving the Haunted House of Heroes to join The Forgotten. One of the band carries an urn. As they head toward their destination, they happen upon the broken and charred remains of a once glorious garden.

{TLTE: *from the NeS void* Thank you.}

You're welcome. One of the band stops and looks around.

Maybechild: Oh look! How wonderful this must have been!

{TLTE: *from the NeS void* Thank you.}

Oh, shut up! No-one really means it. And you're ruining the flow of the story.

Maybechild: Ashes to ashes, dust to ... Dust.

She looks thoughtful. An idea has taken root and is growing. Her eyes begin to shine.

Mustang: Don't you mean "funk to funky"?

Maybechild: What?

Mustang: You know, *sings* "Ashes to ashes, funk to funky, we know Major Tom's a junkie".

Maybechild: I was quoting from the Bible, idiot, not Bowie.

Mustang: Oh. *pause* Well, at least they both begin with "B"...

Maybechild looks at him as though he were lower than a dead slug on the underneath of an elephant's foot.

Mustang: ... and they both have five letters.

Maybechild: *with Valley Girl style emphasis* Shut Up!

Ford: Come on, we must keep moving.

The band surges forward but Maybechild hangs back. She opens the urn she is carrying and looks inside.

Maybechild: You want to go home, don't you?

The silence is deafening, but Maybechild is listening intently.

Maybechild: Ok, just a little.

She tilts the urn and shakes it slightly. There is a strange sound, a sibilant susurration, evil, empty.

Maybechild: Off you go then.

She reseals the urn and, tucking it tightly under her arm, hurries after her companions.

A dead calm lies over the ruined garden. Suddenly the soil begins to whisper, softly, slowly, at first then building, louder and wilder. Green shoots break the surface of the soil with appalling rapidity, snaking their way toward the light. Two shoots break the surface together, fighting for the same space. One shoot wraps itself around the other and tightens its grip. The other writhes as if in agony, then is subsumed into the stem of its captor.

Somewhere from deep within the soil, a sound like laughter emanates. The Dust has settled.

The time is now - or at least, the now in NeS ... as opposed to any other now you may, or may not, be experiencing. The choice is yours.

{Granny Cal: *from the NeS void* Get on with it, dear. We haven't got all day.}

Granny Cal and Thrawn42689 arrive back in NeS after a thrilling, fun-filled adventure holiday in New Zealand, and are heading toward the Haunted House of Heroes.

Granny Cal: It's nice to be back in NeS. Betcha never thought you'd hear me say that, did you?

Thrawn42689: I've come to expect anything from you, my dear Granny C.

Granny Cal: *cackling seductively* (!?!) You ain't seen nothing yet, big boy!

Thrawn42689 smiles indulgently as Granny Cal sashays away from him.

Thrawn42689: *under his breath* I really AM going to hate killing you.

Granny Cal: OH. MY. GOD.

Granny Cal is a few feet in front of Thrawn42689 and is peering through the bushes.

Granny Cal: Come here, Thrawnie. Look at this!

Thrawn42689 steps up beside her and looks through the bushes.

Thrawn42689: Dear Maker!

Beyond is a lush, beautiful, but somehow monstrous garden. Everything about it is overdone. The leaves are so green and glossy, they look like they've been waxed and polished. The flowers are huge and so brightly colored, you almost have to squint to look at them. There is something vaguely erotic about the various shapes of many of the flowers, but something equally repulsive.

Granny Cal: *pushing through the bushes into the garden* Oh, how lovely! It's like the Garden of Eden.

Thrawn42689: Have you been there?

Granny Cal: No, hon. I'm old ... but not that old.

Granny Cal moves closer to a plant with heads of large purple flowers with thick fleshy petals. She picks up a stick and prods a flower gently, adjusts her glasses, looks more closely then prods it again.

Granny Cal: Look Thrawnie, there's something very odd about this flower. It looks like a giant version of Kalanchoe pumila - also known as flower dust - but it just has petals. There's no stamen, no anthers, or any other obvious reproductive parts. Just an empty cup.

Thrawn42689: *looking uncomfortable* And why is that so odd?

Granny Cal: Because the only reason a flower exists is to help a plant reproduce. This merely seems to be an ornament of some sort. Which begs the question - how does this plant reproduce?

She notices Thrawn's extreme discomfort.

Granny Cal: What's eating you, hon?

Thrawn42689: *looking even more uncomfortable* There's something I've been meaning to tell you. I can't, umm, how shall I put this, er, reproduce, you know.

Granny Cal: *wryly* I had figured that one out. It doesn't matter, hon, I'm old, and *smiles* you have other things to offer.

Thrawn42689: *now somewhat embarrassed* Such as ...

Granny Cal holds up her hand and gestures to Thrawn to be quiet. There is the sound of giggling and other carry on from within the bushes. Amongst the giggles is a distinct, ever-so-slightly-posh English voice. The bushes bordering the garden begin to shake violently. Granny Cal moves closer to Thrawn42689 and they both stand waiting, ready for action. Suddenly, the bushes part and Sugarless and Caspian burst through, arms around each other, giggling and chattering on like a couple of school kids. They stop dead when they notice Granny Cal and Thrawn42689, untangle themselves from each other, and move apart. In doing so, Sugarless brushes her hand against a purple flower. Pale particles rise from the cup in the center of the flower and envelope her hand. However, Sugarless doesn't notice what has happened.

Sugarless: Oh, hi. What are you two doing here?

Caspian: Oh. My. God. Look at this garden ... and what IS that smell?

Granny Cal: What smell?

Caspian: THAT smell, like rotting vegetation, or putrefying meat, or something equally off-putting.

Sugarless: *covering her nose with her hands* Ohbycod. Dats discusting.

Granny Cal: I can't smell anything, can you, Thrawnie?

Thrawn42689: Don't ask me. I can't smell anything at the best of times.

Granny Cal: And my sense of smell isn't what it should be any more.

Caspian: You're very lucky in this instance.

He pulls out a very white fine cotton handkerchief and puts it over his nose.

Caspian: Anyway, hello - I'm Caspian Sinclair. And you are ...

Granny Cal: Granny Cal. Very nice to meet you, dear. Aren't you the handsome one?

Thrawn42689 throws her a dark look.

Caspian: *offering his hand to Thrawn* And you?

Thrawn42689: Thrawn42689 - that's all you need to know. Come along, Granny C, my love. Time we left.

Caspian: Oh now, no need to be like that.

Sugarless: *to Thrawn* Excuse me, what did you call her?

Thrawn42689: Call who?

Sugarless: You know exactly who I mean? Oh, don't you give me one of your looks, Thrawn. I heard what you said. *giggles* You called Granny Cal "my love". *giggles louder* That is SO funny! *starts to laugh* And SO disgusting!!

Sugarless is almost beside herself with laughter. Thrawn42689 is clenching and unclenching his jaw, trying to deal with unexpected and very unwanted emotions, Granny Cal is for once quite quiet, and Caspian is shocked.

Caspian: I say, Sugarless, steady on. That's a bit rude.

Sugarless: What! A freak and an old bag getting it on. I think it is pathetic. And hilarious.

Caspian: Aren't you overstating it a little? I'd call it a Summer/Winter romance - and I think it is quite sweet.

Sugarless: Summer/Winter! More like Prehistoric/Distant Future! And romance! What would you know about romance? You're British!

Caspian: I beg your pardon!

Sugarless: You heard. British men know nothing about romance, not like Americans.

Caspian: Americans! Your idea of romance is soppy hearts-and-flowers bulls^*t. We Brits understand nobleness and honor ...

Sugarless: .. and crap.

Caspian: That is so unfair. Next you'll be saying that Australian men are refreshingly hunky.

Sugarless: They are.

Caspian: That does it. I thought we had something, Sugarless.

Sugarless: Well, you thought wrong. Why would I go for some one as goofy as you?

Caspian: Can you hear yourself? You're raving like a mad woman. What on earth has gotten into you? Why pick on a little old lady and a robot?

Sugarless: Because I can. And why are you standing up for a withered old prune and ... Look at me when I'm talking to ...

Sugarless follows Caspian's gaze. Granny Cal has begun to stretch into the shape of long balloon. Suddenly she starts to spin and to twist around into shapes - just like some invisible being was making balloon animals - first a giraffe, then an elephant, then a poodle, then a horsey. Then just as the horsey is completed, there is a loud bang. Caspian and Thrawn42689 drop to ground, but Sugarless stands there, defiant, her determined stance challenging the figure before her.

Calilmalith: WHAT did you call me, sunshine?

Sugarless: You heard, you, you ...

Calilmalith advances on Sugarless, drawing her katana as she does. Sugarless does the only thing she can do, seeing that, although female and having a natural proficiency in unarmed and improvised combat, she is faced with an undeniably proficient and armed female. She runs.

Caspian: Sugarless ...

Calilmalith turns her head and stares at him.

Caspian: Erm, hello. I'm ...

Calilmalith: Shove it. I know who you are.

She turns to stare at Thrawn42689. He stares back at her balefully.

Thrawn42689: Bother. Damn. Bugger. Hell. Crap. Shoot. S%$t. F^@*.

Calilmalith: Yeh. Really glad to see you too.

There is a very awkward moment.

Caspian: I'm sorry. I don't know what happened here. Sugarless is not like that, she really is the sweetest, most adorable girl I've ever met.

Calilmalith: Don't beat yourself up about it. There's something very odd about this garden - and *pointing with her katana* about that flower.

Thrawn42689: Granny Cal was saying that before .. before ... will I ever see her again?

Calilmalith: Not if I can help it.

Caspian: So where is she?

Calilmalith: You're looking at her.

Caspian: You're joking!

Calilmalith: If I was joking I'd say "A man walked into a bar " ... Just joking.

Caspian: Now I'm really confused.

Calilmalith: *expansively* Welcome to NeS. Anyway, enough banter. I suggest we get out of this garden and head to the HHoH.

Caspian: The what?

Thrawn42689: Haunted House of Heroes.

Caspian: Oh.*pause* I think I should go after Sugarless.

Calilmalith: I wouldn't. She's not the Sugarless you're looking for. You are going to need help with her, otherwise you'll just get dusted. *She moves closer to Caspian and whispers*. Besides, I could use having someone else around. I don't trust this guy.

Thrawn42689: *thinks to himself* I may have had doubts about killing Granny Cal, but I am going to enjoy killing her.

Caspian: I don't know. *pause* Oh all right. I still don't really know my way around here, so I could use some help as well.

Calilmalith: Atta boy!

Thrawn42689: Are we done yet?

Calilmalith: No thanks to you.

Caspian: Is there a lab of some sort at the House?

Calilmalith: There might be. Why?

Caspian: Then I suggest we take that flower ... to study it.

Calilmalith: Good thinking. Been dying to use my katana for something...

She turns to cut the flower head off the plant but neither flower nor plant are there.

Calilmalith: OK, now that's creepy. I did say that flower was odd, didn't I.

Caspian: Yes, you did. You know, we might make a good team, you and I.

Thrawn42689: *thinks to himself* Oh, and I am SO going to enjoy killing him too.

Calilmalith: Why?

Caspian: Well, I'm brilliant and you are obviously very brave and strong. Brains and strength - a winning combination.

Thrawn42689: *thinks to himself* Oh, purlease.

Calilmalith: Don't get ahead of yourself, sunshine. And by the way, you're not my type.

Thrawn42689: Can we go now?

Thrawn42689 turns on his heel and strides away. Caspian gestures to Calilmalith to go first, and they all head towards the Haunted House of Heroes. From the bushes, a pair of blue/green eyes full of hatred and scorn follow their movements.

Sugarless: You won't get away with this ...

*Meanwhile, the heroes all stand around and watch the Tsolo/Sarn battle royale.*

Gebohq: I'm bored. Is anyone else bored?

Voodoo: Would you get your head on straight? We've got to help Sarn!

Antestarr: Well, he does have a point. I mean, we tried to stop Tsolo with conventional weaponry, unconventional weaponry and even raps and nothing worked. We may as well do something else.

Voodoo: I can't believe I'm hearing this!

Antestarr: Meh.

Voodoo: Sarn needs our help and I'm not leaving him!

Semievil: I think Sarn has some, uh, more personal issues he needs to work out on his own.

*Everybody looks at Sarn. His face is twisted into a mask of intense exertion and he appears to be muttering to himself.*

Semievil: ...Yeah, I'd just as soon not get involved.

Antestarr: So what do you guys want to do?

Gebohq: Let's cruise down to the mall and hit some sales!

Semievil: Sounds like a plan. Hey Santa, can you give us a lift?

Sok Monkey: I was supposed to infiltrate and exfiltrate a robot-terrorist base, but whatever.

*The heroes (except for Voodoo) pile into the sleigh. Sok Monkey cracks the whip and they soar into the night sky...*

*Voodoo runs for Sarn and is flicked backwards again.*

Tsolo: (laughing) How does it feel to be abandoned again?

*The Forgotten One tries to use the little distraction to his advantage, but Tsolo anticipates the attack. Voodoo looses sight of Sarn's body. Trying to get her voice to pierce through the chaos for she yells.*

Voodoo: Sarn! I'm sorry! Sarn? Stay with me! If you see light or a tunnel or something trying to suck you in, stay away from it. If you have to, find something to hold on to.

In the dreamworld...

Kern and Sarn struggle, staggering back and forth. Neither speaks. Their faces are contorted in concentration. Sran stands nearby, looking helpless. Sarn begins to fade momentarily, then his figure solidifies once more.

In the Forgotten Headquarters, Voodoo holds Sarn's seemingly comatose body in her arms. His breathing is sporadic, and he's sweating profusely. Mere yards away, Tsolo and The Forgotten One battle, both ignoring Sarn and Voodoo.

Voodoo: Stay with me, Sarn.

Voodoo strokes Sarn's forehead. He gives no response. The struggle in the dreamworld continues. Kern smiles grimly and speaks, his face tight with concentration.

Kern: I.. must admit. Did not expect... you to... learn so quickly.

Sarn: Then... why are you.. smiling?

Kern: Because.. There is an alternative...

Kern drops suddenly to his knees, and fixes his gaze on Sran.

Sran: Wha?

Sran seems to blink out of existance.

Sarn: No! You... *******!

In the Forgotten HQ, Voodoo is suddenly thrown wildly back from Sarn's body by an unseen force. She lies still for a moment, then staggers to her feet. She brushes herself off.

Voodoo: We must have been hit by some kind of space debris! It's knocked out the primary Holodeck buffer. Number One! Report!

Dun Dun DUNN!!

(Back in the dreamworld)

Sarn: How could you.. do that?

Kern: It was necessary for our survival. We'd have killed each other if we'd continued on like that. Now the pull from the device has been satisfied. And we can go on to defeat Tsolo. It is unfortunate that Sran had to be the victim. But you and I are not so different. You knew this would happen, and you could have sacrificed yourself, but instead you fought me.

Sarn: You, cold, heartless *******. I am nothing like you.

Kern: Hate me if you want. But I merely made the best of a bad situation. Now if you'll excuse me, Tsolo still needs defeating.

Sarn: What makes you think I'll let you use my body now for your sick vendetta?

Kern shrugs.

Kern: Try and stop me if you want. But don't expect to hold me responsible for what Tsolo does to your body when I'm distracted by your bickering. It would be a real shame too. I'm starting to like it here.

Kern steps out through the door.

In the Forgotten HQ, Sarn's eyes open. Kern stands up, his eyes searching for the dagger. He sees it on the ground nearby. As he bends down to pick it up, a shadow falls over him. He looks up, mildly surprised.

Kern: Voodoo.

Voodoo blinks and raises her eyebrows. She shakes her head slightly.

Voodoo: Sarn?

Kern: No. It is I, Kern. We are not yet finished.

Voodoo: Ok.. So, can I help?

Kern: Yes. Stay out of my way and let me handle...

Kern's trails off mid-sentence. His eyes seem to glaze over for the briefest of instances.

Sarn: Voodoo! I only have a moment. Listen carefully. Kern's betrayed me and the Captain. When you have an oppurtunity, distract him somehow. I'll take care of the rest.

Sran: I give the orders around here, Lieutenant.

Sarn: ...Sran?

Sran: That's Captain Cadpill. We're on duty. Get it right, or I'll have you up for Mast quicker than you can blink.

Sarn: I'm so glad you're alive.. but... weird. Uhh. Listen when Kern takes over my body again, don't say anything. I want him to think you're Voodoo. Then, when the time's right.. Tackle him or something. I need him distracted.

Sran: Nonsense, Lieutenant. I'll just shoot him with this!

Sran raises the mortal gun Sarn had failed to notice he was carrying.

Sarn: That's.. That's it! That's the device. Perfect!

Sran: Of course it's perfect! My plans are always perfect. Now then, we'll split up into Fireteams and...

Voodoo: Wha? Sorry, what was I saying Kern? I must have blacked out.

Sarn: I'm not Kern, I'm... Oh forget it. Listen. In about three minutes I want you to shoot me with that gun. But don't let me touch you after until I say it's ok.

Voodoo: What? What gun?

Voodoo notices the gun in her hands.

Voodoo: Oh this gun.. When did I pick this back up?

Sarn: Put it behind your back... Quick-

Voodoo hides the gun behind her back.

Kern: That meddlesome... Good, I'm glad Tsolo's still distracted. Now then. Voodoo. Stay out of my way. I've got work to do. When I'm done, I'll leave you and Sarn to your romantic frivolities. You won't hear from me again.

Kern is of course lying.

Kern: Shut up, you stupid Narrator. She might hear you.

Voodoo: What? Who might hear who?

Story conventions, Son. You guys only hear me when I want you too.

Kern: Uhh, nothing.

Kern turns toward Tsolo and The Forgotten One. He takes a deep breath and charges forward. His body seems to slide along like a snake, his movements quick, fluid, and stealthy. He lunges onto The Forgotten One's back, dagger raised high. Before he can plunge it to it's mark, Tsolo sees the opportunity, and hurls them both against a wall. They regain their feet, simultaneously. Ignoring Tsolo, Kern and The Forgotten One flow around each other, moving from one combat stance to the next, fists flashing against dagger. Voodoo stands back from the fight waiting for an opportunity. Tsolo telekineticaly tosses spare furniture and debris at the two with reckless abandon. Kern and The Forgotten One dodge most of it, but Kern is not quite quick enough for a rocking chair that glances off his shoulder. Momentarily distracted, he is struck hard by The Forgotten One. The force of the blow propels him towards Tsolo. He lays still. Tsolo raises an automobile and-

Voodoo: Wait. What the heck is a car doing in here?

It's just here ok? Anyway, Tsolo raises an automobile and prepares to hurl it at The Forgotten One. Kern opens one eye. He sees Tsolo momentarily distracted. He jumps to his feet and hurls his dagger at Tsolo with as much strength as he can muster. Tsolo bats the dagger away telekinetically, but in doing so, loses his concentration on the automobile he's-

Voodoo: Can't you just say car?

Suddenly, Voodoo's mouth disappears for the next 10 minutes so the Narrator can finish the story.

Voodoo: Mmmmmnmmm.

So, Tsolo loses his concentration on the automobile he's holding and it crashes down on top of him. Simultaneously, Voodoo raises the mortal gun, aiming it at Kern.

Voodoo: Miimmmf mommph mmnnnmmffm mommmnnnmf mmmffmm.

Which, roughly translated means, "I hope you know what you're doing, Sarn. She fires the gun.

(back in the Dreamworld)

Kern is flung violently into the room. Sarn is waiting for him.

Kern: What the hell? The device! How-

Before Kern can prepare himself, Sarn pushes with all his might. Kern begins to fade away.

(in the Forgotten HQ)

The Forgotten One walks over to Kern's now prone body.

The Forgotten One: Try to plunge a knife into me while my back is turned, will ya?

He slaps Kern across the face. Or rather, he tries to. Just as his hand connects, he is thrown backwards. He slams against the wall and slides down it, unconscious.

(in the dreamworld)

Kern's faded body blinks out of existence. Sarn slumps and falls back into the chair. His own body begins to fade. His eyes close. He hears a voice from a great distance.

Voice: Sarn! Sarn! Get back here. I don't care if you told me not to touch you! I'm going to slap you silly if you don't wake up.

Sarn opens his eyes for a moment.

Sarn: I'm so tired...

His eyes close once more.

Voice: Damnit, Sarn! Don't do this to me! I need you!

(in the Forgotten HQ)

Sarn awakens to find himself in Voodoo's arms.

Sarn: I told you... Not to touch me. And.. wha? What happened to your lips?

Oh sorry. Voodoo's lips return to normal. She kisses Sarn, long and passionately.

Voodoo: You're crazy. I'm not touching you. I'm HOLDING you.

Sarn: You didn't... feel anything.. did you?

Voodoo: You mean like last time, when I was holding you.. and then I blacked out or something. No. Nothing like that.

Sarn: I have to be sure.

Sarn touches the palm of his hand to Voodoo's forehead. He closes his eyes and mutters to himself.

Sarn: no... only the Captain...

Voodoo: What?

Sarn: Something.. happened, earlier. I'm not sure if we can reverse it. I hope we can. I'll explain later. Lets get out of here. We need that gun.

Voodoo slings the Mortal Gun over her back and helps Sarn to his feet. The two of them leave the Forgotten Headquarters behind, Voodoo supporting most of Sarn's weight as they walk away.

...

...

Moments later, The Forgotten One's head rises. He looks about as if confused.

Kern: Well. Isn't this interesting.

There is a loud creak as the automobile that crushed Tsolo slowly slides to one side. Tsolo stands, his wings shrouding him. He stretches out his wings, to their full potential. His body is battered and bruised, but he smiles.

Tsolo: Yes. It is interesting, indeed.

Our story-arc concludes as Sok Munkey (as Santa Claus) brings his flying sleigh, carrying Gebohq, Semievil, Antestarr, and whoever else they didn't forget ( ), down in the parking lot of a nearby mall. The group make their way to the closest mall entrance.

Sok Munkey: Remember where we parked, everyone.

The group runs into Voodoosnowflakes, supporting Sarn Cadrill in her arm and giving the group a disgruntled glare.

Voodoo: Thanks for waiting.

Gebohq: I knew we forgot something. So, everyone's accounted for now, right?

Voodoo: There's still over half our friends back--

Gebohq: Good, we're all accounted for then. Let's rake in the sales!

The group enters the mall, putting behind them any issues involving the Forgotten, Tsolo, and anyone still entangled in the drama.

Voodoo: But--

But nothing! Your only concerns should be if your gift cards from last year are still valid, and why Sok Munkey hasn't tried killing the others yet, especially Semievil.

Semievil: What?

Sok Munkey: Nothing! Keep eating your candy.

Semievil: 'kay.

random kids: IT'S SANTA!

Sok Munkey: *grumble*

Voodoo: Maybe we should stop at the Quartermaster's department store?

Sarn Cadrill: OOO! They're something new and shiny at GoodGuyStop!

Voodoo: But it's at the other end of the mall -- how do you know?

Sarn: I can smell it!

Voodoo: Riiiiight...

Gebohq: I better avoid those places for now. I'd rather not be arrested with trying to be heroic without a license if I can help it. So--

Yeah yeah, we get the picture -- WHERE WILL THE STORY GO NEXT? WILL THE CONSTANT EVASION OF RESOLVING THEIR CONFLICTS WITH THE BAD GUYS EVER CATCH UP WITH OUR PROTAGONISTS? MORE IMPORTANTLY, IS THERE SOMETHING BETTER YOU COULD BE DOING OR WILL YOU, THE HAPLESS PARTICIPANT OF THIS STORY, BE DOOMED TO STRUGGLE FOR SOME MEAGER AMOUNT OF ENTERTAINMENT OUT OF THIS THREAD?

Gebohq: Um... so I'll just do some window shopping past Victoria's Secret then.

OH GOD, WE'RE ALL DOOMED!

Gebohq: Or not...

Our group of bargain shopping heroes look briefly at a store directory board conveniently placed nearby. The mall is fairly large, containing a few big stores yet peppered with little restaurants, novelty stores and various clothing outlets.

Sarn: *pointing to a spot on the board* See! There it is! The GoodGuyStop!

Semievil: Nevermind that, I think i need to find a restroom. I shouldn't of eaten all that candy....

SokMunkey: Now now, didn't I say that you should of gone before we left?

Semievil: No, actually you just sort of..

SokMunkey: Besides, we need to make a stop at the OverpricedApparelStore, this Santa suit is getting hot..

Sarn: Why would you go there? You can get the same stuff for way less at GoodGuyStop. Besides, its my favorite store..Pleeeeeaasse?

SokMunkey: Well, after buying all of you presents I guess I do need to watch my money.

Gebohg: All you got me was coal..

SokMunkey: I heard that! What makes you think energy resources are cheap eh?

The group continues to argue about which place to go to while Voodoo seems to watch idly, only able to think of the outsourced Forgotten that are probably working for many of the stores. She notices a short bit of text under the image on the board. It reads "Stores such as 'The ForgottenNation'sDonations' are proudly owned and managed by The Damned Corporation." As she stares the voices of the group going back and forth eventually catch her attention.

Voodoo: Can we just go? I uhh..we should get something to snack on. What do you say?

Semievil: *holding his stomach* Oh god, not food..please, not food...

Voodoo: Im sorry, its just...

Voodoo suddenly seems to stagger and shakes her head slightly

Sarn: Voodoo? Are you okay?

Voodoo (as Sran) : That is Captain to you. It looks like we will have to split up to tackle this situation. *pointing at the diagram as she explains* Team 1, you will advance to the outer corridors of the structure and infiltrate from behind. Team2, make a flank from the left and right wings here. They will never see it coming. Once you achieve your position Team 3 and I will push forward and surround them.

Sarn: ...this is going to be interesting. Voodoo..can you hear me? Whats going on?

Gebohg: Uhmm..I thought we were getting snacks?

Voodoo (as Sran): Excellent idea! Team 3 and I will take on the appearance of eating so they fall right into ou...wait....what?

The entire group looks at Voodoo as if she has gone off the deep end.

SokMunkey: What the heck is going on?

Voodoo: What are you talking about? Look, we really should do something besides just standing around here.

Sarn: Uhm, dont worry about it, you just had a dizzy spell. Lets go sit down somewhere and relax. I still dont feel great myself..its been a long day.

Casually (as casually as a group of their liking can) they make their way to a small cafe...*sigh* why does it have to be a cafe? Couldn't you think of something better? Like a big bar or something?

Phoenix301theWriter: Give me a break! Its my first long story post for peats sake..you should be glad there is a new writer to begin with. And besides, how many malls have a bar in them?

Right...sorry about that... they make their way to a small cafe and order some beverages. The waiter cant help but give the group and odd look but continues on his way. Small mounted televisions play in various corners showing a variety of TV programs. They are all on mute as to cut back from noise and provide customer comfort. The captioned words can be read on most of the screens. As the group waits on beverages they watch quietly. One screen is a news story following the rebuild of a wedding hall. Footage plays showing piles of junk and a newly built structure in the background.

NewscasterWoman1: Contractors say that rebuilding effort of a wedding hall after a crazy encounter between Morris the Cat and Godzilla happened months ago is nearly complete. The encounter was just one of many things that occurred at the party that chaotic day. Although progress has been slow, the rebuild is on time and anticipated to be completed in a few weeks...

In another corner a rerun of NeS-cops plays portraying a blurred figure running from police for tax evasion.

Officer1: Don't let him get away!

Officer2: Suspect is entering the woods, pursuing.

Officer1: We can't lose this one, lets go lets go lets go!

ShowNarrator : *with BadBoys theme playing in the background* The suspect narrowly escapes the police, but is later cleared of his evasion charges. However, justice is served as the suspect is later apprehended and charged for evading police.

Gebohg: Geez, what an idiot. He should of known better than that.

Ante: Actually Geb, i think that might of been...

Gebohg: Oh good! Our drinks are here! I hope i get a donut with this!

Ante: Nevermind...

In yet another part of the room a screen plays a food channel. It is a fierce competition between too great chefs to make food items. The challenge? None other than the Evil Wedding Cake versus The Spooky Taco... A team of Judges sits at a desk waiting for the creations to come together.

ShowNarrator: It looks like the judges are pleased with how this competition is turning out, both are doing a great job. The time is almost up, lets watch!

Voodoo: *taking a sip of her drink* Allright! This is my favorite show! I can't wait to see how they did!

How good a job did the Chefs do? Will Semievil ever get a chance to go to the bathroom? Why is Phoenix301theWriter ending with a another dang cliffhanger in the middle of drinking coffee and watching TV? Heck if I know. Anyway, Whatever the reason is, find out next time on the crazy fantastic wonderful World of NeS!

*cheezy SW impression:* KHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAN! *wait thats not SW....*

(NSN: Another installment of Some Psuedo Story!)

When we last left our protagonist, Gebohq, he was in a cliffhanger situation. Did he fall to his demise?

Gebohq: No, I decided to climb up.

...you really know how to kill the drama, don't you?

Gebohq: Well excuse me for wanting to live!

*ahem* Gebohq better make the story a little more exciting, or else...

Gebohq: Or else what? It's the antagonist's job to create conflict! Go yell at The Last True Evil!

The Last True Evil is nowhere to be found. Why does Gebohq pursue him, we might wonder...

Gebohq: Uh, because he's evil?

Our simple-minded protagonist--

Gebohq: Hey!

--with his continual lack of understanding what makes a good story, such as, oh... character-depth, fails to see that, if he does not make for an interesting story, the story will do it for him.

Gebohq: Huh?

A bengal tiger appears, and spots Gebohq.

tiger: Wraa!

Gebohq: Ahhh!

The bengal tiger pursues Gebohq down the Thread of Perils...

Gebohq: h8 h8 h8...

Show Narrator: The Chefs have finished their pieces now lets see what the judges think!

The camera pans to the judges of the competition, Morris the cat and Enchilada Man! The competing chefs enter with their pieces, the Evil Wedding Cake and the Spooky Taco and approach them.

Voodoo: The Spooky Taco will kick butt! Its a classic.. That kind of improvising is unbeatable!

Sarn: Nah, this Spooky Taco could never be as good as the original, it'll never win.

As the chefs approach, Morris the cat and Enchilada Man sit in anticipation to try the products. The Evil Wedding Cake and the Spooky Taco are placed before them. Enchilada Man prepares to cut a small slice of the Evil Wedding Cake, when Morris cannot take it anymore and jumps onto the cake, trying to devour it. Suddenly, as is true to its form, the Evil Wedding cake comes to life, blasting icing spikes and more in every direction...

Enchilada Man: Ay carrumba! This cake is loco! Muy exciting.. I like it!

Morris: *with a mouth full of cake* Al lifle off on fhe frosfting, buf purff efvil juft lifke fhe oriffinal! *swallows* Good use of sentient attributes..This cake is wonderfully made!

Unknown to the judges, the Spooky Taco has already come to life and popped up from its plate. He lifts the plate he was once on and throws it at the evil wedding cake, much like a frizzbe effectively decapitating it...seconds later a new 'head' grows on the evil wedding cake...

Voodoo: Wow...this sure does bring back memories!

The cake throws a barrage of icing missiles at the Spooky Taco as it retreats..Soon it arrives back, followed by an evil horde of Spooky Nachos as his army! The Spooky Taco raises a hand, and as he does the nacho army seems to float into the air at his command. He throws his arm forward and the nachos fly at light speed towards the evil wedding cake. Morris and Enchilada Man duck and narrowly avoid the flying nachos as they slice through the wedding cake. The kitchen set turns into complete chaos as nachos and icing are flung in every direction. The sounds of people screaming in the background of the set can be heard. Blurred images of people running for their lives cut across the screen. Moments later the screen cuts to a multi colored off air screen. 'Technical Difficulties" is spelled out in the caption box.

Voodoo: Awwww...and I wanted to see what happened.

Sarn: What a classic. That one never fails to bring back the memories.

The group's casual drinking and conversing is suddenly stopped as Semievil jumps up and runs for the nearest bathroom, holding his stomach.

Gebohq: Is he gonna.......ewwhh...

Ante: It seems so.

Sarn: Well so much for relaxation. Check please!

The waiter brings the bill which Sarn and the others are conveniently able to pitch in and pay. They depart from the cafe and head towards the bathrooms to wait on Sem.

Voodoo: Now why did he have to go and get sick like that? I was finally enjoying a not so epic not so involved post..

Consider it a one post vacation between arcs.

Voodoo: One post? Thats not very long. I only got to drink a coffee..how lame is that!

*flushhhhhh*

Semievil emerges from the bathroom and seems somewhat relieved. His face, which had somehow become more pale than usual, begins to fade back to its more normal pale color..if it can be called normal.

Sarn: Uhh...Do you feel better now?

Semievil: I do not want to see another candy bar for the rest of my life..

Sarn: Looks like you are back to normal to me! How about we go shopping some? I still wanna go to the GoodGuyStop!

Sok Munkey: If they have something besides this oh so wonderful Santa suit, I'm in.

The group is reluctant to go anywhere, but the choice is made for them when Voodoo suddenly burst out in a child like squeal, echoing in the mall. She runs to her destination

Voodoo: OOOO!!!! Fluffy Animallssss! Wheeeee!

Sok Munkey: This whole mall thing is starting to get tiering already. What next?

The group follows Voodoo into a pet shop. immediately they are immersed in a oceanic boat like pet world. Nets drape from the ceiling with various plastic sea creatures in them. The floors are wooden and occasionally interrupted by support polls painted and sculpted to look like wooden masts. Draped from the windows are old ragged pieces of sails serving as curtains. The front desk, designed to look like an observation desk, appears to have a small wooden bird perch set near the cash register. As they enter they are greeted by none other than a pirate. His standard name tag reads 'Joe'.


Joe the Pirate: Yaarr...what be the hurry lads?


Sarn: Well Joe, it seems that our friend back there likes your animals.


Joe the Pirate: Yes yes, that fine las. Seems to of taken a liking to the new kitten she has..


Sarn: (defensively) That 'fine las' happens to be my girlfriend, thank you.


Joe the Pirate: Aye, you are a lucky one, lad. Don't mean ya any harm. Have yourselves a look around why don't ye? See what critters strike your fancy. Don't worry about the prices lads, I be willin to strike ye a deal.


Sarn: Rigghhhtt. I'll just go see what Voodoo is up to then.


Sarn approaches Voodoo and the others slowly meander around the store, fascinated by the collection of animals. Semievil takes a certain liking to the reptiles and fish, staring at the various lizards and snakes and tapping on the occasional aquarium to get a reaction. Gebohq attempts to look at the puppies but is plauged by constant sneezing and watery eyes. It is not long before he evacuates the canine area and browses the various rodents in a separate section of the store. He stares intently at the hamsters running as fast as they can in their wheels. In some other part of the store Sok Munkey is seemingly followed by a kid who didn't get what he wanted for Christmas.


Kid: Hey you! Stop! You owe me one!


Sok Munkey: What? Oh great.


Kid: I have a bone to pick with you, Santa. How come I never got my wish?


Sok Munkey: I uh..ran out of it.


Kid: Ran out?! How could you possibly run out of the superist most awesomest gaming console ever made? You're SANTA!!!


Sok Munkey: Right right..the gaming console.


Kid: I'm gonna follow you around wherever you go until I find out what is really behind this. I want justice! Where is my gaming console?


Sok Munkey: The way it sounds you didn't exactly earn it, kid. I'm sorry but I'm afraid you are uh..on the naughty list. Yes thats it. I couldn't get you one because you are on the naughty list.


At this time the kid proceeds to break down in tears, wailing in high pitched screams that can be heard from one end of the mall to the other.


Sok Munkey: Whoa! Okay, we can get one when I'm done here alright?


Kid: (who immediately stops crying) Realllyyy????


Sok Munkey: (thinking to self) I'm going to regret this later. (to kid) Really.




Ante, who hasn't gone very far for his lack of interests in the store, remains by the front desk. Seemingly from nowhere a parrot flies and lands on the perch at the desk.


Parrot: wwrrraakkk...Hello..


Ante: As if that kid wasn't annoying enough. Now this.


Parrot: Annnoyiinggg...Annooyyinngg..


Ante: Ahh fuq. This is wonderful.


Parrot: Annooyyingg fuq...


Ante: (chuckling) On the other hand..this could be fun. (to parrot) “There is no Santa”


Parrot: Wrrracckkk nno Sannta


Ante: Good birdie!


In a separate section of the store Voodoo and Sarn meet up.


Voodoo: Look at the kitty!!! Awwwwww..


Sarn: Aww. Poor thing was probably a stray at some point.


Voodoo: Ohh look! It wants us to take it with us! See? Its practically screaming for us to take it.


Kitten: Moww! Mrrrowow! Prrrrrroooww!


Which, if I know anything about cat language translates into “You look like a couple of hearfelt animal lovers. You know you want to get me out of here..”


Voodoo: awww! I want it I want it I want it! Can we keep him pleeeeeaasee?


Sarn: *sigh* I dont know what you see in this cat.


Voodoo: Pleeeassee?


Sarn: If it is truly that important to you, then I suppose so.


Cat: Mrroww!!! (Alright! They are suckers! err Its good ill be getting out of here for once)

Joe the Pirate comes flying out of nowhere at the mention of the deal.


Joe the Pirate: So you fancy that cat there yes? I say it will come at a bit more of a price. That cat is a special cat, lucky I'd say. Aye, back in the sailing days cats like him were lucky. Take a look at them paws, he be a 7 toed cat!


Sarn: Thats alittle odd, but yet so cute! How much do you ask?


Joe the Pirate: Well if you are willing to bargain anything is possible now isnt it?


In the other part of the store, Sok Munkey can be seen walking by with the pestering kid following him. The casually walk past the parrot.


Kid: Hello birdie!


Parrot: Annoyyying fug, therrre is no Sannta!


Kid: (with a shocked look) Whhhattt???


Parrot: There is no Santa


Again the kid screams and cries. The windows nearly shatter from his squeals.


Sok Munkey: Oh Man! Not again. Uhh, look kid, that parrot is a liar! its really me! Really!


The kid continues his persistant wailing, which Joe the Pirate, and all other cusomers in the area have come to a halt to stare at.


Joe the Pirate: Gawd almighty. Listen here, you get your matty over there and his little brat out of here and you can have the silly cat!


Sarn: But its not his k...


Joe the Pirate: (furious) Take the darn cat and get out before I throw you skallywags overboard. Gone with ye!


Sarn and Voodoo look with confused faces at eachother and decide to go for it.


Sarn: Do you have a box or something? I mean they wont just let us have a cat on the loose”


Joe the Pirate: A box? Gahh! Just take the damned cage and get off my ship before I change my mind.


Sarn and Voodoo grab the small cage and all, and are met at the front of the store by several confused customers and the rest of the group.


Sok Munkey: Im telling you kid its a liar! See? look we are done here now, we can go to the game store and get a console okay?


Kid: (starting to calm down) Ree...really?


Sarn: We are what??


Sok Munky: Just go with me here would you?


Sarn: Right...uhm..Yes little guy, we were just on our way here with Santa to go to the game shop! Weren't we guys?


Sarn looks on to the others for approval..will they go with the flow or will the kid scream until our ears bleed..and if so god help us all. And what of this little kitty? What possibly could be in store for this little fluffy critter? If you come back you might just find out..next time..onnnnn N...E...Sssssss *fade*

All of a sudden, a mouse appears!