(NSN: From Highemperor. I think he's hoping to start a Christmas special this year. We'll see.)

The 2009 NeS Holiday Special

Starring:
Krig as Santa Claus
Maybe as Mrs. Claus
JM as Rudolph
Otter as Frosty the Snowman
Geb as the Nutcracker Prince
Young as Clara
Losien as the Sugar Plum Fairy
Howard as Godfather Drosselmeier
Bhac as Scrooge
Mayaal as Marley
Cris B as Bob Cratchit
Amal as Tiny Tim
Stafford as Ghost of Christmas Past
Ares as Ghost of Christmas Present
Nick as Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come
Al Ciao as the Grinch
Rachel as Cindy Lou Who
Sugar Dumpling as the Grinch's dog Max
Hero Force One members as the Whos of Whoville
The Last True Evil as The Last True Elf
Various Geb clones as reindeer:
-General Qhobeg as Dasher
-Dr. Gebiyl as Dancer
-Nyneve's Geb Clone as Prancer
-Gebiyl as Vixen
-TNTE as Comet
-Hero Force One's Qhobeg as Cupid
Nyneve as the Virgin Mary
Darkside as Joseph
Jim Seven as Baby Jesus
Master Thand as Wise Man 1, 2 and 3
Morthrandur as Charlie Brown
Antestarr as the protagonist from It's a Wonderful Life
Cool Matty as the angel from It's a Wonderful Life
Soriel as the boy from A Christmas Story
Ben as the girl from Miracle on 34th Street
James Earl Jones as Bing Crosby

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

Our various actors are milling about on the set, practicing their lines and putting on costumes.

Maybe/Mrs. Claus: OTTER! What are you doing?

Otter/Frosty: Um...eggnog?

Maybe/Mrs. Claus: Don't give me that crap! I thought you had quit drinking!

Otter/Frosty: I did! But this isn't the main NeS -- it's "out of continuity." I can do whatever I want!

At that moment, the alcohol in his system is metabolized into Vulcan flames. This is unfortunate for Otter, who being a snowman is completely melted away.

puddle of water: Urgh... I'll be back again someday -- prob'ly with a serious hangover...

Elsewhere, Soriel -- as that kid from A Christmas Story -- is practicing his lines.

Soriel: Please, Santa -- I want a Red Ryder Uber Blade for Chrsitmas!

Krig: Krig not give kid Red Ryder Uber Blade. Kid will put his eye out!

Ben: Hey, Soriel -- here's your costume.

Soriel eyes the pink bunny suit distastefully.

Soriel: Not a chance in Hell.

Jim7/Baby Jesus: Actually, you'd be surprised what we get up to in Hell.

Soriel: You shut up. You don't even have any lines.

Ben: Quit being such a baby.

Jim7/Baby Jesus: Yeah, that's my job!

Ben: At least you didn't get cast as a girl!

Away from them, Geb looks at his costumed self in the mirror.

Geb/Nutcracker: Aw, why do I have to be made of wood? I wish I was a real boy!

He looks down at his pants.

Geb/Nutcracker: On the other hand, speaking of "wood"...

Young/Clara: Oh-KAY, well that explains why the character I'm playing is knocked up.

Er, pan the camera somewhere else -- please!

Al Ciao/Grinch: This is ridiculous! First I was Scrooge in 2003, now I'm the Grinch. Why am I being typecast as the bad guy? Just because I used to be bent on world conquest by powerplaying...

Krig/Santa: Krig being typecast too! Just because he have big beard and is jolly, everyone think he be Santa!

Rachel/Cindy Lou Who: Oh grow up, Al. Come on, use your amazing hair powers to make your hair green and furry all over your body.

Al/Grinch: Technically, my hair control is only over that on my head. I don't want to overstep my bounds.

Rachel/Cindy Lou Who: Honestly, in what universe is controlling your body hair considered powerplaying?

Krig/Santa: Actually, according to the quantum theory of multiple universes--

Rachel/Cindy Lou Who: Nevermind. Seriously, Al Ciao, it's either that or spend six hours in the makeup room gluing on so much green hair you'll need the Jaws of Life to get out of it again.

Al Ciao/the Grinch: Hair control powers it is!

One crisis resolved, the Protector of Whofractal turns to the next.

Deep/Who #2: Why is Hero Force One relegated to nameless extras? We're big shot heroes in the NeSiverse!

Rachel/Cindy Lou Who: Maybe, but the story isn't about YOU.

Patriot/Who #1: Hmm... "Whoville" isn't a Communist enclave, is it?

Rachel/Cindy Lou Who: No no! Very Uh-mer-uh-can!

Meanwhile, Ares is complaining to Bhac.

Ares/Ghost of Christmas Present: ...and why can't Sugar Dumpling be a more famous dog than Max -- like Snoopy?

Bhac/Marley: Well--

Ares/Ghost of Christmas Present: And what about Thand? He has three parts, for crying out loud!

Bhac/Marley: Well, he is wise enough to be all three wise men combined... besides, we're low on people to play the parts.

Ares/Ghost of Christmas Present: Low? In this story?

Bhac/Marley: Yeah, well blame Tsolo. Why else would I be acting?

At stage left, TLTElf is organizing the Geb clones as the reindeer.

TLTElf: Alright, reindeer clones, form up! Now Dasher, now Dancer, now Prancer and Vixen! On Comet, on Cupid, on Donner -- Where are Donner and Blitzen?

Geb. Qhobeg/Dasher: Well, there are only six Geb clones--

Gebiyl/Vixen: Five, actually. I'm just an alternate, future Geb.

TLTElf: Oh, for-- Someone get me some more Geb clones here!

Quick pan to Antestarr.

Antestarr: I refuse this role. It isn't a wonderful life, as long as the story's controlled by the writers! I mean, what stupidity would possess the writers to cast three villains as Joseph, Mary, and Jesus?

Um, let's try another pan.

Morthrandur/Charlie Brown: Let's try this again, James. "I'm dreaming of..."

James Earl Jones/Bing Crosby: ...of overthrowing the Emperor with teh help of my son, Luke?

Morthrandur/Charlie Brown: No! You're not Darth Vader, you're BING CROSBY!

James Earl Jones: I am altering the play -- pray I don't alter it any further.

Alright, enough dillydallying, everyone -- places! And the curtains go up...

*********************************************

In the Writer's Realm, all the writers stare at Al Ciao the Writer.

Ben the Writer: So you're just gonna leave us with that mess?

TLTE the Writer: And to think, we thought he wasn't evil anymore...

Al Ciao the Writer: Sure! I did all the casting, Geb produced it -- now the rest is up to you! BWAHAHAHAHA!

Al Ciao the Writer walks away cackling, planning to enjoy the show while drinking Krig the Writer's stash of eggnog...

Benjamin the Writer: So... we're making page 29 a Christmas special? Let's see if we can fill it up before the end of Christmas day.


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


It was the night before Christmas and all through the house, not a creature was stirring, not even a...


Geb/Nutcracker: YEOUCH!


...ok, whose deviating from the script? What in the... who replaced Losien's magic wand with laser cannon?


MZZT: Hey, if you're not going to cast me and Semi in roles in this spoof, then expect retaliations.


Losien/Suger Plum Fairy: Sorry brother... I mean mister Nutcracker.


Fine. You want roles? Tie them to the sleigh! We've just found our final two reindeer.


Semi: Great, more time cast as a furry animal.


Ok then, where were we? Um... right, improvisation time.


As the Nutcracker roasted by the med kits with care, in the nativity scene a darkness would... would...


Ok, why is the nativity scene empty?


Nyneve/Mary: We're not setting foot in that thing till it is throughly deconsecrated.


Jim7/BabyJ: Seriously, what are you looking for, a roasted manger?


Um... right, moving along...


But up on the roof there arose such a clatter, that someone just to check what was the matter.


Bhac/Scrouge: Ok, whose causing such a racket out here. Some of us are trying to get our taxes done early.


...dear editor, that was actually in the script. Wait, that means there was no reason to interrupt.


But down through the chimney with like a lifetime of tears, came a river of coal and two... soiled reindeers?


Semi/Dasher: Told you we should have practiced that landing at least one.


MZZT/Blitzen: Oh shut up...


Um... we might need an intermission. The NeS 2009 Christmas special will continue shortly.

Semi/Dasher : Fine by me.

MZZT/Blitzen : This job blows anyway. Hey, Geb-clones. Who wants to play Monopoly?

JM/Rudolph : I rock at Monopoly!

Other Reindeer : You aren't invited!

*CLICK!*

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

Staring down from his cave with a sour, Grinchy frown
At the warm lighted windows below in their town.
For he knew every Who down in Who-ville beneath
Was busy now, hanging a mistleoe wreath.

"And they're hanging their stockings!" Al snarled with a sneer.

But with his keen vision, he sees Seraphim with a peer.

Al/Grinch: "What is she doing? Oh wait--oh dear!"

Her blinds draw close though, and though he tried to leer.

Al/Grinch: "Even while powerplaying, I can hardly se'er!"

Then he growled, with his grinch fingers nervously drumming...

Al/Grinch: "I MUST find a way to keep m--er--Christmas from coming!"

For, tomorrow, he knew, all the Who girls and boys
Would wake up bright and early. They'd rush to their toys!
And yet! Oh, their poise! Oh, their poise! Poise! Poise! Poise!
That's one thing he envied! Their POISE! POISE! POISE! POISE!

(NSN: Not quite what I was expecting from this post...)

'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the NeS
Not a writer was posting, for they couldn't care less.
They had left the NeS office and donned their footwear,
In hopes that they could have some time off from there.

The Heroes were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of spinning plot-holes danced in their heads.
And Losien in her sweater, and I in my hat,
Had just settled our brains for a long winter’s nap.

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.

(Several verses skipped due to abject laziness)

And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the chimney Krig the Viking came with a bound.

He was dressed all in leather, from his head to his feet,
In his hand was a pudding he proceeded to eat.
A two-handed axe he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a murderer, poised to attack.

His eyes-how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
But his fierce little mouth was ready to bite,
And the beard on his chin was as black as the night.

The bone of a rival in his teeth he held tight,
And it danced in his mouth as he turned left and right.
He had a weather-beat face that was silly and proud,
But your head he would take if you said it aloud!

He was vicious and tiny, a Viking from Hell,
And I screamed when I saw him, though it shames me to tell.
A gleam in his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know I had something to dread.

He spoke not a word, but began work with glee,
Hacking and slashing at my poor Christmas tree.
And when he was finished, he smiled at me brightly,
As Losien woke up and clutched at me tightly.

Vikings do not celebrate Christmas, you see,
And are envious of revellers such as Losien, you, and me.
Though I heard him exclaim, ‘ere he ran out of sight,
"Krig hate Christmas, but hope that friends have a good-night!"

-TLTE

And now, we return to our regularly scheduled program.

Within the forest that may or may not be in the Eighth Dimension where our cast of characters are at the moment, Gebohq and the others continue to follow Howard, Matthias, and now Amal, down a road towards Thand's treasury. Time drags on as they press onward, having now only come across another post in the road and with no all-knowing old men in sight.

JMX01: I have to wonder how wise it is to follow directions from the young man.

Al Ciao: Amal, TLTE's adoptive kid? Can't be any worse than following directions from strangers likely suffering from Alzheimer's and bad fashion.

Gebohq: STOP EVERYONE! IT'S THAND!

Gebohq points to what appears to be Master Thand, standing by the side of the road a ways down. The group collectively sighs.

TLTE: That's not him. That's your friend, Rachel. Again.

"Thand" steps forward, and twirls his traveling coat, revealing himself to be Rachel.

Rachel: I really wish you all would play along more. I'd have a lot more fun with Gebohq that way.

Matthias: It got old after the ninth time you did that.

Gebohq looks around nervously.

Gebohq: Yeah, it's not funny. We're dealing with a guy who could control my mind and--HOLY COW, IT'S THE EVER-ENDING PLOT!

Howard: It's Rachel, you fool. And the EeP's avatar perished back on page 50.

Gebohq: Right, I knew that. But how do you know it's Ra--Randy? What're you doing here?

TLTE: Look at the hand.

Gebohq: What do you--oh hey, that's the engagement ring I got Rachel.

He is then promptly backhanded in the face by "Lt. Randy" -- a hand imprint with the ring stone's mark is left on his face.

Gebohq: Ow! What did I do to deserve tha--EVIL GEB!

Al Ciao: Ring.

Gebohq: Oh, well I'm keeping an eye out this time for--DARKSIDE!

Krig: Shiny.

Gebohq: Right, the ring. I really have to keep my eye out for--RACHEL! No, wait...

Rachel: Your friends keep ruining my fun, Gebby dear. They want to play? Fine. Let's see them have fun with this!

She throws something down to the ground, and smoke explodes, obscuring everyone's vision. When the air clears, a mummified man with live bombs strapped to his hands stands where Rachel had been, not unlike a type of bad guy once faced in the Forbidden Fortress of Forbiddeness, with a small flock of ravens perched all over him. Where Gebohq had been, he apparently still stands, his hand covering his hand covering his face in fear. He then lowers his hands, still cupping them close to his chest. The "Humorous Phases of Funny Faces" cartoon plays on a number of impromptu projection screens to music played by Queen for good measure.

"Gebohq": What has she done?!

mummified guy: MRRRMPH!

The mummified man advances towards the others, the ravens flying around them like or not like writing desks and cawing "nevermore!" as the fuses of the bombs fizzle down...

(NSN: I felt the group needed something before another encounter with Thand, so... here's what I came up with.)

Meanwhile (NeS count: more than the stars in the sky), back at the newly-established Dining Hall of Heroes -- known once just as Cris B.'s shack of something like chicken -- Maybechild and the Otter prepare to brief their first batch of applicants...

Otter: *pacing* Each and every one of you has the potential for greatness within you. Nay, not just greatness, but bloody brilliance! But for that potential to be brought forth, we must first test you, to see if you have what it takes to be a part of our team. A team of--

applicant #1: --uh, excuse me.

Otter: What is it, newbie #1?

applicant #1: Er, the name's Alex, and--

Otter: Your name is newbie #1 until I say you've earned your name, got it?

newbie #1: Perhaps I should reconsider my life options...

newbie #2: Oh God, this is a henchmen job, isn't it? My last job was a henchmen job!

Otter: This isn't a villain gig! Now go file into the room down the hall where Semievil will test how well you serve as human shields.

The group of newbies shuffle down the hallway, murmuring to each other.

Maybe: I have to admit, I don't have high hopes for this bunch.

Otter: Hey, at least they didn't ask about their pay.

Just then, Soriel and JM enter the scene from a door in the wall -- a door that hadn't previously been there a moment ago.

JM: ...and that is how one makes an elegant entrance with wizardry over a setting!

Soriel: Looks like you just made a convenient door to me.

JM: This is exactly why you'll never be as awesome as--

Soriel: --"as awesome as me" yadda yadda.

Maybe: Hello there. Care to join the team?

Soriel: What?

JM: What's the pay?

Otter: Damn it!

Back in the forest, the assembled NeSHeroes ready their weapons as the suicidal mummified apparition charges them. Gebohq stands behind the foe, wringing his hands together in an apparently nervous gesture.

Al Ciao: Stand back, friends! I'll make this mummy wish that...well...do mummies have a consciousness, or is it eroded by the passage of time?

Krig: Krig think Al raise interesting epistemological question.

TLTE: Wait, comrades! Listen to the beast's ostensible war-cry!

They stop and listen to the mummy as it moans, plodding towards them inexorably.

Al Ciao: And?

TLTE: I'd recognise that moan anywhere. Helplessness, self-pity, a dash of ignorance...all is not what it seems.

Krig: Krig wait for nothing. Mummy head coming off!

TLTE: Krig! Stop!

The Viking launches himself into the air, axe-shaft gleaming as it descends toward the mythical enemy -

Just as TLTE pushes himself forward, skidding on his knees, quick-drawing his Colt and firing a single bullet at Krig himself-

Al Ciao: No!

The bullet strikes the handle of Krig's axe precisely, knocking it spinning in a 360-degree arc around the Viking's body before coming to rest inside his belt.

Matthias: Incredible!

The bullet, now deflected by the handle, ricochets and catches the mummy bandage, spinning the mummy around Wonder-Woman style and sending the bombs in its hands flying harmlessly into the woods, where they detonate and kill nobody at all.

The mummy is thus unwrapped to reveal -

Al Ciao: Gebohq! There are two Gebohqs!

The NeSHero, dazed from all the spinning, promptly falls over and throws up. TLTE kisses his revolver and returns it to its holster, grinning broadly.

TLTE: No indeed, my hirsute powerplaying friend. The second Gebohq over there is Miss Pi, our mischievous nemesis.

"Gebohq" shrugs guilty, smiling as she morphs back into her familiar likeness.

Rachel: Well, I have to keep things interesting...and I'm afraid I don't want you getting any stronger. So I can't let you invade Thand's fortress.

TLTE: I'm afraid you haven't a say in the matter.

At that moment, TLTE's bullet - launched high into the atmosphere after an errant tug of the bandages set if off - falls back to Earth, hitting Rachel in the temple and knocking her unconscious.

TLTE: Vash the Stampede has nothing on me. [gesturing] Come, Amal, lead the way...

Amal beams a smile, but then does an admirable transition into a more serious disposition as he strides forward. Howard and Matthias follow close behind, apparently intent on studying Amal, while JMX01 helps Gebohq up to his feet and supports Gebohq as he continues to stumble. Krig prods an unconscious Rachel with his foot before scurrying to catch up with the group. The Last True Evil prepares to catch up as well when Al Ciao holds him back, encouraging him to walk with him in the rear, leaving the fallen Rachel behind.

Al Ciao: That was very impressive back there, TLTE.

TLTE: Thanks, but it was really nothing much. Standard Soviet training just kicking in, is all.

Al Ciao: You don't say. Also, I didn't know you were an anime fan.

TLTE: A what fan?

Al Ciao: You referenced an anime character just a moment ago.

TLTE: Oh, I did? I was just following the script.

Al Ciao: Since when did you ever follow the script?

TLTE: Since I felt like it?

Al Ciao: Look, don't take this the wrong way, but I think you may be in danger of powerplaying, my friend, and I should know. The spotlight on your amazing abilities, others like Rachel acting out of character, quickly resolving a conflict...

TLTE: With all due respect, I hardly think having skill and fortune on my side counts as powerplaying.

Al Ciao: Perhaps, but please, just be careful. I fear the next thing we know, you'll find yourself "suffering" from the unequaled power of your presumed Ultimate Villainy.

TLTE: Yes, well, I think we should be worried more about Gebohq. He's never been particularly prone to powerplaying, but I think he's fallen the other way and become completely ineffectual.

The Last True Evil and Al Ciao look towards Gebohq.

Gebohq: Urrr, why won't the world stop spinning already?

Gebohq nearly trips over his own feet when JMX01 catches his fall.

Al Ciao: Yes, I had hoped that he would rebound from his apparent torpor sooner, but it may be that the NeS will need another main character to take his place after all. Still, if having a dead Potential hasn't stopped him yet, he may surprise us down the road.

TLTE: Hey, it's not like we didn't lose our Potentials too.

Al Ciao: Makes you wonder, doesn't it?

The Last True Evil looks towards Gebohq once again for a moment before turning back to face Al Ciao.

TLTE: We should catch up with them. I have a feeling we may be confronting Thand again soon.

In the world of the writers, Gebohq the writer bursts open his office door.

Geb the writer: HEY! Is everybody sleeping or something? I need more posts, people!

TLTE the writer: I just wrote one!

Geb the writer: Yeah, and it blows! My comotose grandmother could write better than you!

Ben the writer: Uh, well I could write some more about Ben and Young...

Geb the writer: PERFECT! We could really use the boost in our ratings with a solid sex scene.

Ben the writer: Er, with all due respect, I was considering more character development--

Geb the writer: Character development? This ain't a froo-froo art project, kid. You're fired!

Ben the writer: What?

Tracer the writer: Can he do that?

Geb the writer: You're all fired!

He spins back into his office and slams the door behind him.

Semievil the writer: Three...two...one...

The door swings back open again.

Geb the writer: We got a big push coming with another Thand scene. You're all rehired. Now get back to work!

Slam!

Krig the writer: What happen?

Geb the writer bursts the door open again.

Geb the writer: And everyone's pay is docked!

Slam!

JM the writer: Wait, we get paid?

Back in the world of the Never-ending Story, specifically inside a shack, Ben continually glances at Young.

Ben: This place sure is giving us the case of cabin fever, eh?

Young: Are you concerned that the writers will force you to have sexual relations with me while I am pregnant?

Ben: ...there is no right answer to that, is there?

Young: Probably not.

Ben: Thank you for being honest.

Young: No problem. Well?

Ben whimpers.

The Bi-weekly Universal Mega Pwning B.U.M.P.! It's charging up!

Currently at, oh... let's say 3% completion. When it reaches 100%, well, you just better hope this B.U.M.P. doesn't hit you on the head, because it'll be a killer!

*The assembled recruits are assembled on the parade ground outside of Cris B's: Home of the Crisburger Supreme!*

Maybechild: It's kind of unusual that you have this military-style training ground right outside of a family restaurant.

Cris: But it came in real handy so who's laughing now?

Otter: Recruits! Eyes front! Stand at attention!

MaybeChild: And what's wrong with Otter?

Cris: I think the real question is how come we're hiring new people instead of promoting from within eh? Eh?

Semievil: Which guy were you again?

*Otter takes a deep breath and prepares to use his "war" voice.*

Otter: The key to victory on the modern battlefield is being able to march in an orderly fashion. Those of you who prove unable or unwilling to do so will be summarily executed as an example to others.

MaybeChild: What?

*Maybe pulls Otter aside.*

MaybeChild: Look, you're supposed to be reading their job applications and selecting candidates for interviews. I don't know what's going on in your head that you turned that into some kind of bizarre military boot camp fantasy.

Otter: I don't take orders from you! I'm a general!

MaybeChild: No, you're not.

*Long pause.*

Otter: No, I'm not.

MaybeChild: So do you promise to stop shouting at the people who responded to our classified ad?

Otter: Look MaybeChild, all I ever wanted was to be a soldier. The tradition in my family was that the men all joined the service, but I never did. It's the deep, dark secret that haunts my alcohol-fueled nightmares and my sense of self-loathing. Please, give me this chance to redeem myself.

Recruit #1: That was so touching...

Otter: Do not speak until spoken to, private! Give me twenty! Now now now!

In the mysterious forest, our heroes have set up a camp--

TLTE: We have? Why would we do that?

JMX01: Yeah, that sounds suspiciously like work, and from what I can tell, NeSheroes NEVER do work.

Geb: We don't. Rule #1 of the NeSheroes handbook, see?

JMX01: Ah...

Matthias: Wait a second - if you never do work, what about that old storyarc where everyone went looking for a job?

Krig: Krig smell plothole...

Howard: If you remember HOW those job-seeking efforts went, then you'd understand why Rule #1 was established.

Al Ciao: Wait, if you were retired back then, how come you still know this stuff?

Howard: Uh... *mumble mumble*

Amal: What's that?

Howard: I, uh, peeked in from time to time to watch Losien undress...

Geb & TLTE: WHAT?

Uh, guys? Guys?

Geb: Alright, Howard, you are going to pay for that.

Howard: What, you don't think your tovarish TLTE ever did that?

Geb: Of course not, he's a good upstanding-

He breaks off at the sheepish look on TLTE's face.

Geb: Don't tell me YOU voyeured my sister...

TLTE: Er, okay, I won't tell you then.

Geb's face reddens with anger.

Geb: If I weren't still so dizzy from that mummy-unwrapping thing, I'd...

TLTE: Yeah? You'd what? Sissy-slap me?

Geb: Why, you-

Geb punches TLTE, except that since he's still dizzy, he misses and punches Al Ciao, who stumbles backwards into Krig. Of course, once Krig is riled, all pandemonium breaks loose. The heroes, assuming they really deserve that name, are engaged in an allout brawl in the middle of the forest. TLTE fires a bullet at JMX01, who cuts the bullet in half with his cleave-o-matic in bullet time.

TLTE: What the?

JMX01: I know, I'm awesome.

And the brawl continues. An hour or two later, our heroes are all slumped, exhausted.

Geb: So, uh, anyone remember what we were fighting about in the first place?

Amal: Yeah, Tee Ell Tee Ee said he-

TLTE: Nevermind that, Amal, heh.

Alright, guys, so are you ready to set up camp now?

Al Ciao: Are you kidding? We're exhausted.

Well, that's alright, the main thing is that I need y'all to go to sleep so the post can continue.

Krig: Invisible man make no sense. Heroes never sleep.

TLTE: Yeah, I can't remember the last time I actually slept in this story.

Matthias: It's a major story convention, that sleeping rarely if ever actually happens, at least onscreen.

Oh, come on! You said it yourselves - you guys are EXHAUSTED! Doesn't a little nap sound nice?

JMX01: Actually, it DOES sound nice-

Geb: No! Stay strong! Don't give in!

Oh, for crying out loud. Alright then. A freak hailstorm opens up over the heroes, and hailstones the size of baseballs crack every hero on the noggin, knocking them unconscious.

Geb: Hey, that's not fair-- Ow! ...zzz

Yeah, that's right. That's what you get for messing with the all-powerful Narrator. Alright, let's see what the script says happens next...

Our heroes are plunged into dreams, visions sent by Master Thand. TLTE sees himself growing in power and knowledge as the years go by, and sees Losien by his side.

But the years march inexorably on, and Losien ages and finally dies, even as TLTE remains, grieving over his beloved's corpse. TLTE sees himself enshrine Losien's body in a vault, to forever preserve her memory... And still the years march on, centuries, eons passing...

Al Ciao finds himself in a similar dream, except in place of Losien, it's his first love Harem Girl #87 [/shameless NeS1888 plug], whom he finds by his side. Al, unlike most of the other heroes, has trained himself to recognize when he is a dream, as dreams are his only escape from the demands of the story, and is delighted to see his ancient love.

Al Ciao: Harem Girl #87...

HG87: Prince Emp, I'm here again.

A single tear runs ever so dramatically down Al Ciao's cheek. He knows that this vision of his first love is not real, but for the moment he doesn't care. He takes her in his arms, and they dance, waltzing in each other's arms, twirling around, as the colors of the dreamstate shift and swirl about them.

Presently, Al pulls away. He knows he cannot remain his HG87's arms forever, for if he tries, the story will forcible extricate him from the dream and perhaps deny him this temporary escape forevermore.

HG87: Prince Emp?

Al Ciao: I love you...

And then he walks away, navigating through the shifting colors of the dreamstate, until he comes to a path banked on either side by darkness. Here the dreamstate is stable, a greater will imposed upon it. And he walks the path, finally reaching a grassy clearing with a tree-twisted tower in the center.

Deitopos. Master Thand's domain.

Thand is currently in his study, reading a book, when Al Ciao walks in.

Thand: Hello, Master Ciao. I wonder if you've ever read this book.

He holds up the document he's reading so that the title is clearly displayed: "Saga of the 3rd War".

Thand: It's quite possibly the best fantasy literature I've ever read.

Al Ciao: Look, Thand, I don't know what your game is these days, but we knew each other once. Maybe we were even friends.

Thand: "What is a friend? One soul in two bodies." Aristotle.

Al Ciao shakes his head in rueful amusement.

Al Ciao: You know, Thand, I never quite understood why you choose to quote people are who eons younger than yourself.

Thand smiles, a small but perhaps sincere smile.

Thand: What is it you want, Master Ciao?

Al Ciao: You know what I want.

Thand: Well, perhaps I do, but surely you're not here in an effort to get me to resurrect Harem Girl #87, Alole, and all your ancient family and friends. Even assuming that was within my power.

Al Ciao: Look, I just want to help Geb. He's my friend, and it doesn't seem right that he has to reject the woman he loves in order to save the universe.

Thand: When has "what's right" ever determined destiny in the world?

Al Ciao slams his fist down on Thand's desk and grips the sides of the desk, leaning forward.

Al Ciao: Thand, I will sell my soul if it means helping Geb.

Thand: Still melodramatic as ever, I see.

There is a whisper of motion as the tall, cloak-swathed form of
Morthrandur materializes within the study.

Morthrandur: You would sell your soul, King Emp? Like I did?[/b]

Al Ciao: Yes, Erro, I would. What are you doing here?

Morthrandur: You object to my presence?

Al Ciao: No, but I am curious. Are you even real? Or *he turns to face Thand* are you just a manifestation of Thand's will here in the dreamstate?

Thand: Does it matter?

Al Ciao: No, I suppose not.

Thand: There is a way, Master Ciao, that your Master Simon can unite with his beloved.

Al Ciao: What is it?

Thand raises a finger.

Thand: I will approach Master Simon and reveal the secret to him, on one condition.

Al Ciao: What's that?

Thand: That, should the time ever come, you protect my beloved.

Al Ciao blinks in surprise.

Al Ciao: YOUR beloved? I didn't even know you had one...

Thand: There is much you do not know, Master Ciao. Have we a deal?

Al Ciao's gaze flicks between Morthrandur, who sold his soul to save Catherine, and Thand, who though inscrutable he may be, still seems to know love.

Al Ciao: ...yes.

Morthrandur: Return to your dance with Harem Girl #87, King Emp; the rest of your slumber shall be untroubled till morning...

In the "real" story world, in the forest, a smile appears on Al Ciao's face.

Meanwhile, Geb is having his own Thand-sent dream, with Rachel in place of Losien or HG87, when the dream is parted like a curtain, and he sees Thand step into his mind.

Geb: Thand? What do you want? Out to manipulate me again?

Thand: No, Master Simon. Your friend Master Ciao has sent me to redeem your love for Rachel.

Geb: What? Al? Rachel? Wait - you mean, there IS a way I can be with her?

In the forest, an expression of wonder slowly appears on Gebohq's sleeping face...

---------

The next morning, our heroes awaken.

JMX01: Ugh... Why couldn't we have some decent beds?

Matthias: Yeah, this hard ground isn't doing anything for my spine.

Howard: Soft-bodied children! In my day, we slept in thornbushes and were GLAD for the privilege!

Geb approaches Al Ciao.

Geb: Al, I had a dream... Did you--?

Al Ciao: Yes, I did. I hope it works for you.

Geb: I... I don't know what to say. It's a lot to take in.

Al Ciao: I understand. But it's a good thing, right?

Geb: Oh, yes... a VERY good thing.

Suddenly a shout from Howard interrupts any conversation the other heroes have been having.

Howard: 'Ware!

The NeSheroes turn as one to see none other than Master Thand strolling out of the trees.

Thand: Good morning.

TLTE: Villain! Why do you show yourself?

Thand raises an eyebrow.

Thand: You call me a villain? When it is MY treasury you are going to plunder?

TLTE's brow crinkles uncertainly.

Matthias: Oh, come on, if we have to, we can rip the story convention out of Conan the Barbarian, who's always plundering treasures and such - and HE'S a hero.

Geb: *bravely* You won't stop us, Thand.

Thand: Perhaps I won't, at that. That's why I'm not going to stand in your way.

There is a brief silence.

Amal: Er, what?

Thand: I'm not going to try and stop you. Go ahead to my vaults and plunder them.

Geb: But- You- That is- I mean-

Krig: Krig head hurt.

Thand: The story convention is that the heroes succeed in their quest, so there's probably nothing I can do to stop you.

JMX01: But- That's not right. You're SUPPOSED to try and stop us!

Thand: But I'm not.

As our heroes are milling about in confusion, Bhac and Mayaal are monitoring the NeS from the dimension of 1337.

Mayaal: Red alert! The story is showing rapid deterioration! It's fraying at the edges and unraveling from the center!

Bhac: You're right. How could this be happening?

Mayaal: I'm scrying... Oh, no. It looks like the central conflict of this story arc has disappeared! A story needs conflict to survive and thrive, and without it, the NeS is dying!

Bhac: We need to generate as much conflict as we can to stave this off. Get Ares on speed-dial!

As Ares starts World War III in an effort to keep the story alive, back in the forest, TLTE is pummeling the holy snot out of Thand.

TLTE: Fight, darn you! Fight back! FIGHT!

Thand only smiles beatifically. Geb hangs back, uncertain.

Geb: He's like Gandhi. Exemplifying the nonviolent resistance and so forth I'd like to be able to practice. Are we doing the right thing here?

Al Ciao: Geb, he's fighting for his own selfish reasons. It has nothing to do with loving your enemies. Don't let him manipulate you like that.

Matthias: You fools! Don't you see that the story is dying! With Thand stepping down, there is no conflict! We have to switch quests, find some new conflict!

Howard: Thand is a genius... He's trying to force us to find a new quest. How do we fight someone who won't fight back?

Krig looks around uncertainly. He knows he's not the sharpest tack, but there are simple things he knows. Food is good, for example. And hitting defenseless old men who aren't fighting back is wrong. He hefts his axe.

Krig: TLTE not hurt old man.

In a rage, TLTE doesn't even hear his diminutive friend, continuing to wail on Thand.

Krig: TLTE NOT HURT OLD MAN!

With that, he whacks TLTE with the flat of his axe, sending him sprawling, then steps protectively between Thand and TLTE and the others.

TLTE: Krig? What?

Krig: Old man not fighting. Not hurt non-com-bat-ant.

In the dimension of 1337, Bhac and Mayaal are stunned as the NeS suddenly stabilizes.

Mayaal: What happened?

Bhac: It appears new conflict has been created. Since Thand wasn't defending himself, Krig the Viking stepped in, creating conflict by proxy. That little Viking is a genius!

Mayaal: *tapping his chin thoughtfully* No, he was just doing the right thing...

The Bi-weekly Universal Mega Pwning B.U.M.P.! It's movin'...

Currently at, oh... let's say 5% completion. Yeah, I need to stop letting freak blizzards distract me.

TLTE stands slowly, nursing the lump growing on the back of his head as he glares at Krig. The Viking is unmoved by the glare, continuing to defend the slightly bruised Arkng Thand.

TLTE: Get out of the way, Krig. I can finish this now.

Krig: No one hurt old man.

TLTE: He's not just an - by Trotsky's trousers, I've already been through this song-and-dance routine with Gebohq! He's using his feigned innocence to turn you against us!

Krig: Eh?

Thand straightens his suit and steps out from behind Krig.

Thand: Very well, Spymaster. I will not stop you from entering my former dwelling place, nor will I stop you collecting my ancient weapons and armor.

Gebohq: Wow, some good luck for a change -

Thand holds his hand up, signaling that he was not quite finished.

Thand: That is to say, I will not personally stop you. I cannot say the same for the dozens of lethal booby-traps and horrifying inhuman guardians I left there.

Gebohq: Ah. There's the bit I was expecting.

JMX01 slaps his hands together in a gesture of reasonableness.

JMX01: Now, er, Mr. Thand. Vs-a-vis the dozens of lethal booby traps and the horrifying inhuman guardians: is there some sort of "off" button or remote control you could lend us so that we could just...let ourselves in quietly? In the back, maybe?

Thand smiles and shakes his head.

Thand: I am afraid that I have no desire to make the theft of my most sacred earthly possessions a pleasant or simple task. Since you seem so keen to put everything in terms of morality and valor, consider it thusly - if you run the gauntlet of my traps and guardians and yet live, the prizes are yours.

He turns and moves to leave, stopping only to lob one final remark over his shoulder.

Thand: There is one possession in there that I value more than anything else on this planet. You'll know it when you see it. I would advise against taking it or touching it in any way, shape or form, lest you risk my anger.

Thand disappears in a puff of blue smoke. TLTE and the group rush forward to where he was standing, only to find themselves standing on the edge of a vast and treacherous cliff, overlooking -

Al Ciao: Holy ****, we made it! We're at the end of our journey!

The NeSHeroes stand in awe at the sight in front of them - in the middle distance, surrounded by a brilliant cobalt sea shining as if encrusted with diamonds, is an enormous island. In its epicentre is a crumbling structure; an impressive and daunting castle, still proud despite the ravages of time. At the bottom of the cliff are several small boats, replete with oars.

Krig: Krig looking forward to swim.

Gebohq: Here we go. Certain death or not, we're not leaving that island until we have what we need...

*Meanwhile, at Cris's Chickin Shack a.k.a the new NeS heroes HQ...*


Sam Reyom (new female recruit): (In response to The Otter's demands) Given that you are not a soldier but just as important an NeS hero...I regain my right to speak and not to not be treated like an invalid along with everyone else.

Are you not an NeS Hero yourself, important and needed to fight the unecessary evils close at hand? If I may, can we please just cut to the chase and proceed with the interviews? Errrr explain to us whatever being a NeS hero in training entails...?

The Bi-weekly Universal Mega Pwning B.U.M.P.! It's shufflin'...

Currently at, hmm... 6% completion? I really need to pick up the pace if I hope to make my August deadline.

The Bi-weekly Universal Mega Pwning B.U.M.P.! It's shakin'...

Currently at, hmm... 7% completion? While my guesstimates at percentages are likely off, at this pace, I'll likely only be done a quarter by August, so please, feel free to kick me into doing more, or else my time away from NeS won't have been for much!

Krig looks down the steep cliff, contemplating his jump into the water below, and notices something. On a small rocky outcropping a few feet below our heroes is a book sitting next to the skeleton of a mongoose. The diminuitive viking kneels down and picks up Postcards from Master Thand's, Bokken Monkey's obscure, totally unpopular follow up to his first travel book. It's easy to see why it sold about four copies total, the thing is about six pages total, and the price on the back says $23.95. Krig stares at it blankly until TLTE snatches it out of his hands.

TLTE: Let me see that...

He opens the book, flips past the title page and the essentially blank table of contents, and begins reading.



The book stops there, the other 3 pages are blank. So much for a guide through all the traps.

The best end for the NeS must remain unseen to the non-seeker.

Rachel: April Fool's! Uh... where is everybody?

Geb: So, what does the travel guide say?

TLTE: Well, we know of a mouse trap, a squirrel trap, a bear trap, and a hippopotamus trap.

Geb: Hmm... Every little bit helps, I suppose.

Al: But why are the last three pages blank?

TLTE: Adding more pages makes the book look thicker, and thus the consumer believes he is getting more for his money. Typical capitalist pigdog marketing scheme.

Al: OR...

TLTE: There is no "or"! The last three pages are blank because BokkenMonkey wanted to make more money!

Al: OR...

TLTE: For the love of Lenin, what are you getting at?

Al: I dunno. Maybe they're written in invisible ink?

TLTE: *smacking his forehead in mock astonishment* Of course! Why didn't I think of that? Naturally, a writer would print his work in invisible ink! Honestly, Al, when you're not powerplaying, you're pretty daft.

At this point, Krig starts gnawing on the edges of the booklet. His saliva dribbles over the pages, and suddenly writing appears on the previously blank pages! Al Ciao smiles smugly. TLTE groans.

TLTE: Times like this give me that old nuke-the-free-world itch all over again...

Amal: What does it say, TLTE?

JMX01: *reading over TLTE's shoulder* It looks like a recipe for rhubarb pie.

Al: OR...

TLTE: Not this again.

JMX01: Or... maybe it's an encrypted map of Thand's mystical island?

Matthias: That would be nice. If unlikely.

Howard: *peering at the script* Wow. I daresay, I'm cracking this code. Every time it says 1 tsp of sugar, it means duck to avoid the swinging axes, whereas each "stir occasionally" refers to leaping over a pit of snapping alligators.

Geb: Wow, Al is on a roll! It really is a guide to Thand's traps!

Al: OR...

Geb: No, Al, don't change it!

Howard: ...no, no, wait, it really is a recipe for rhubarb pie.

Everyone turns to glare at Al.

Al: Hehe. Oops?

Matthias: Well, nothing for it but to get in these conveniently placed boats and row to the hidden island of Morchazima.

TLTE: Is it just me, or does it seem like these boats are a little TOO conveniently placed?

Amal: No, I put them there, Uncle Tee Ell Tee Ee.

TLTE: *blinking* Oh. In that case, thanks.

Amal: No problem.

The hero-types get into the boats, and begin rowing. That is to say, everyone but Howard starts straining their muscles at the oars, while the elderly Dragonbane shouts such pithy remarks as "Put your backs into it, swine!" Suddenly, they see the fin of a gigantic shark cutting the waves towards them!

Krig: Big ugly shark.

Geb: Oh no! The writers have decided to do a parody of Jaws! Heaven help us!

Suddenly the shark breaks the surface of the water, revealing an animated cartoon shark who speaks in a whiny voice.

Jabberjaw: Who you calling a big ugly shark? I get no respect! No respect, I tell ya! Nyuh nyuh nyuh!

----------

In the World of Writercraft...

Ben The Writer: Jabberjaw? Who in tarnation is that?

Al Ciao The Writer: Um... I'm sure Geb knows, he's into animation and such. Hopefully that includes decades-old animated shows.

Geb The Writer: Just because I know doesn't mean I like the idea. Why didn't you go with the Jaws parody?

Al Ciao The Writer: Um... because I've never seen Jaws?

A stunned silence descends upon the Massassi ISB Writers Office. A lone Canadian tumbleweed rolls by, between the cubicles of Jim the Writer and Janitor Bob The Writer.

Krig The Writer: You've NEVER seen Jaws?

Al Ciao The Writer: Nope. I don't like horror movies. Too suspenseful and full of blood and gore.

Tracer The Writer: HAHA! What a pansy!

Geb The Writer: Wait a second, Al - you told me that you play Fallout 3, and that's really bloody!

Al Ciao The Writer: Now that's what in NeS we like to call a plothole.

Britt The Writer: But what in real life we like to call hypocrisy.

Al Ciao The Writer: Um, well, the thing is - OH MY GOD IS THAT MISTER T?!

The other writers simply stare at Al.

Al Ciao The Writer: What? It works for characters in NeS. Look, I did a cameo of Jabberjaw and not a Jaws parody; if you don't like it, write a post of your own! It's not like y'all are burning up the post count.

The other writers shuffle their feet uneasily.

Krig The Writer: There's too much plot and not enough zaniness in this story arc for me.

Tracer The Writer: And Thand is WAAAAY too difficult to write for.

Al Ciao The Writer: Hmmm, mostly because TLTE is keeping his plans for Thand's motivation close to his chest. I'll fix this. Hey TLTE!

A muffled snoring from the next cubicle over turns abruptly into a cough.

TLTE The Writer: What? I'm very busy, uh, donating money to charity!

Al Ciao The Writer: I'm going to give you an ultimatum. Either tell us what Thand's motivations are--

TLTE The Writer: NEVAR!!

Al Ciao The Writer: --or read NeS1888!

TLTE The Writer: Oh no! I can't possibly choose between those horrific fates! Can't you give me a more humane choice, like between poking my eyes out or chopping my ears off???

----------

On the military ground outside the Dining Hall of Heroes, otherwise known as Cris B's Chikin Shack...

Otter: I see much potential within you, Recruit #1!

Sam Reyom: I told you, my name is Sam Reyom.

Otter: You don't get a name until I say you get a name!

Zip to the World of Writercraft.

Geb The Writer: Now you're just ripping off the jokes from Tracer's last few posts.

Al Ciao The Writer: Um... imitation is the sincerest form of flattery?

Zip back to the Chikin Shack of Heroes.

Sam Reyom: But I've got a writer and everything! That makes me a Character(TM)!

Otter: A writer who's only posted ONCE! Until she posts more than that, you have no name!

Sam Reyom: Oh, yeah? Then I quit!

Otter: What? No! You can't quit!

Sam: I can too! Whatchoo gonna do about it, huh?

Otter: DESERTION! Has the Army sunk so low?

Sam: Wait, no, I'm not gonna quit.

Otter: Oh, good.

Sam: I'm gonna take over your job.

Otter: What? You can't do that!

Sam: Oh, yeah? Who's with me?

Recruits #2-42: YEAH!!!!

Otter: Mutiny! Well, I'll just have to dispatch you with my Vulcan's Flames, then!

Sam: You don't drink any more.

Otter: Right. Well, then I'll just chop you all up with my huskarl sword!

Sam: Um, welcome to the modern age. We all have SMGs.

Otter: Crap.

Sam: Now drop and give me fifty!

Inside the Chikin Shack of Heroes itself, Maybe consults with MZZT.

Maybe: So, MZZT, have you finished setting up the hardware and tech we need?

MZZT: Sure have! Over here we have the home theater so we can watch Die Hard 24/7, and here we have a GameCube jury-rigged with 10 controllers, AND I programmed the nearest pizza place's number into the speed dial of all our hero watches!

Maybe: So... you haven't actually set up any of what we REALLY need? Like maybe our interdimensional technology, or a state-of-the-art security system?

MZZT: Oh, that. Yeah, I did that, too.

At that moment, the door into the Shack of Heroes opens as a shadowy figure steps inside. Twenty alarms go off, red lights start flashing all over the place, a dozen turrets come out of the walls to point at the intruder, and a cage of lasers springs into life around the shadowy intruder.

MZZT: See? I told you.

Maybe: Er, MZZT...

MZZT: What?

Intruder: What is all this? I just wanted to buy one of Cris B's deluxe chikin sandwiches!

MZZT: Oops.

----------

Outside Disneyworld in Florida, the battle between the forces of Hell under General Qhobeg and of Disney under Dr. Gebiyl is underway. They have all taken cold showers - LOTS of them - and have returned to their original purpose. Namely, beating the holy snot out of each other. Or, since this is Disney and Hell we're talking about, beating the UNholy snot out of each other.

Surprisingly, Disney has the upper hand, because in addition to Mouseketeers and Disney villains, Dr. Evil's acquisition of Marvel Comics [[yes, this happened in the real world, Disney bought Marvel]] gives his army various superheroes and villains. However, due to copyright laws, we can't actually show any specific Marvel characters or mention them by name. But demons are tied up with webbing, clawed by adamantium, and torn apart by lasers left and right.

Random Audience Member: Since when do you care about not infringing copyrights?

Since my attorney, Krig Krogsson, stopped answering my calls. Seems he's out of the office on adventuring now.

Anyway, mafia members are furiously making headshots against Mouseketeers while Dr. Gebiyl and General Qhobeg are dueling fiercely. Dodging and twisting and parrying with their swords in bullet time, their hands and feet flying in furious flurries--

----------

Geb The Writer: Nice alliteration.

Al Ciao The Writer: Thanks. I knew you'd appreciate it.

----------

--but neither able to gain the upper hand. Finally, Dr. Gebiyl calls a halt to their duel.

General Qhobeg: What? Don't tell me you want another five-minute break?

Dr. Gebiyl: No, but I think this fight is going nowhere. We should resolve our differences some other way. Perhaps through a game of skill.

GQ: I've got it. How about MarioKart on the GameCube!

DG: You're on!

GQ: But where will we find a GameCube?

DG: You mean, aside from all the used ones you can get in game stores everywhere?

GQ: Be quiet. Those don't count. A quest must lead to some sort of dramatic tension.

DG: You really have been influenced by your primary. Nonetheless I concede your point.

GQ: I remember the heroes have one.

DG: Hero Force One? Somehow, I can't imagine the Patriot playing Wind Waker.

GQ: Not them. The NeS Heroes.

DG: Oh, those wannabes. Didn't their hall of heroes get trashed and replaced by Helebon's citadel?

GQ: Yes, and then they moved to the 8th dimension for a while, but now they're back on Earth, setting up camp at Cris B's Chikin Shack!

DG: Perfect! Let's go!

They slip away from the titanic conflict, the various Prince Charmings too busy slaying demons to notice.

----------

Sam: Forty-eight... forty-nine...

Otter: *huffing and puffing* I... can't... do... it...!

Sam: What kind of soldier are you, meatbag? Come on, sissy boy, one more and we can all go home! Just one more, and you gain the right to look me in the eye!

Otter: *puff WHEEZE* Okay...

Sam: Fifty!

Otter slumps to the ground, exhausted.

Sam: Great job! Now run forty laps.

Otter: *groan*

----------

MZZT: Alright, so I turned off the security system so customers can still get in.

Cris B: THANK you. I gotta make money somehow if we're gonna support the team.

Maybe: Actually, we're funded by the PPV executives.

Cris: Really? But you haven't been on PPV since the Arena days!

Ford: True, but after The Last True Television Executive's demise and the subsequent organizational chaos, they conveniently forgot to cut us off. We've been drawing humongous checks ever since.

Voodoo: That confuses me, actually. Why do we need room and board? We never eat or sleep. Well, hardly ever, at any rate.

JM: Maybe not, but we still need our equipment. What would we do without our hero watches?

Soriel: Wait - we get hero watches? I want one, gimme gimme GIMME!

MZZT: We don't have any extra right now. I just used the last one to upgrade mine.

Soriel brandishes Fred Teh Uber Blade threateningly.

MZZT: On the other hand, a newbie probably has greater need of it than I. *hands it over*

At that moment, General Qhobeg and Dr. Gebiyl smash in through the doors.

Dr. Gebiyl: Give us your GameCube!

Qhobeg: All your base are belong to us!

MZZT: I KNEW I shouldn't have turned that security system off...

----------

Our hero-types have arrived at the shore of Thand's mystical island of Morchazima, sanity safely intact after JMX01 took his Cleave-O-Matic to the annoying Jabberjaw. Disembarking from the boats, they look up at the crumbling ruin before them. Thick vines climb up ancient stone, and--

CRASH!!

Er, one of the stone walls has fallen, revealing the stage facade of the set.

Director: CUT! Someone put that screen back up NOW!

The forgotten maintenance men, some of them kirbies who begged for their old jobs back after it became apparent that their summoner Geb had forgotten about them too, hurry forward and lift up the fake stone wall, shoring it up from behind with bricks.

Director: Okay, let's get it right this time. Lights! Camera! ACTION!

Geb: How big do you think it is?

TLTE: Well, it covers the whole island, plus it's ten stories tall.

Matthias: Not to mention that it probably goes underground as well.

Al Ciao: So, Howard, what kind of treasure is inside, do you think?

Howard: Well, that crown, of course. Your standard gold and jewels, natch. Also probably the largest library known to man, all bound up in ancient tomes. But there are several artifacts within. Weapons, armor, arcane devices. For example, Al Ciao, you might find a legendary bow within.

Al Ciao blinks at the mention of his former favorite weapon type.

Al Ciao: A... bow? I haven't picked one up in (p)AGES...

Geb: You know how to use a bow, Al?

Al: Back when I was in your great-great-grandfather's League of Heroes, Geb, I was the finest shot in the world. But part of that was from my powerplaying, and it's been so long...

TLTE: Forget the bow, comrade. Take up a trusty semi-automatic pistol instead.

Krig: Or Krig teach Al how to use axe!

Al: Heh. Thanks, both of you. I do miss using a longbow, and riding a horse into the wind... but you know what I miss most? Holding the elements in the palm of my hand. Riding the waves of energy that transported me from place to place. That feeling of power. So help me, I miss it.

TLTE places a hand gently on Al's shoulder.

TLTE: We're here for you, comrade.

Al: Thanks.

Howard: If we're QUITE done with this touching interlude, might I suggest we proceed? There won't be time for this sort of thing once we get inside. Squirrel traps everywhere, you know.

As the hero-types file into the entrance archway - whose giant wooden door has long since withered away - three figures appear on the other side of the lake out of the woods.

Antestarr: Crap. We're too late. They've already gone into the armory.

Losien: Oh, I knew I'd mess it up somehow!

Nyneve: Quit your sniveling, girl! *to Ante* THIS is going to be the new main character?

Ante: *shrugging* If Geb can pull it off, she can. Plus she's better looking. I think the modesty and general low self-esteem comes with being an Ohq. Perhaps it balances out the power and destiny accorded to them.

Losien: HELLO! I'm right here!

Nyneve: *ignoring Losien* Not so, Starr. I was the first NeSferatu Desmond created after he became one, so I remember some of the original Ohqs from ancient Atlantis. The Ancient One in particular, was very poised and confident. Though now that you mention it, her ancestor, Lord Simon, was pretty humble.

Ante stops dead in his tracks.

Ante: You KNEW the Ancient One?

Nyneve: Only briefly. He moved into the dreamstate with Thand after Atlantis sank in the giant plothole. He didn't leave Deitopos again till he died at the end of page 50, or so I hear.

Ante: Hmph. Well, he's gone now, thanks to the writers. Nothing to be done about it now.

Losien: If you two are through ignoring me, perhaps we should cross this lake and follow my brother into the armory.

Nyneve: Not just your brother, girl. Your lover as well.

Losien: You mean... TLTE's with them?

Nyneve: Yep. Not gonna quit on us now, are you?

Losien: Keep up that attitude and I might.

Nyneve: Finally she grows some backbone. Good spirit, girl.

Losien, however, doesn't hear her as she spots a body floating in the water near their side of the shore. She runs to it.

Losien: Oh no! Someone's cut this poor shark up! Don't worry, mister shark, I'll help you!

Jabberjaw: ...

Losien: Speak to me, mister shark! Don't go. Don't go!

Jabberjaw: ...

Obviously Jabberjaw has no idea how to respond to someone actually showing respect and concern for him. Just as obviously, Nyneve, Ante, Losien, and Jabberjaw all miss the presence of the shadowy lurking figure following them: The Next True Evil.

DUN DUN DUNNNNNN! The Next True Evil has come out of hiding! What are his nefarious plans? Does he still have Highlander running through his system? What about the intrusion of Qhobeg and Dr. Gebiyl into the Chikin Shack of Heroes? Will Otter regain his authority? And what deadly hippo traps await the intrepid explorers of Morchazima? Find out next time on NeSquared: Deep Space 9!

In the cabin in the woods in the 8th dimension, Ben and Young are sitting together at a simple wooden table that Ben had fashioned himself, using tools that were conveniently in the tool chest that was itself conveniently placed in the likewise convenient tool shed out back (behind the equally convenient outhouse).

Ben: Speaking of the outhouse, how come we never use it?

Young blinks.

Young: Perhaps you don't know this, Ben, but we usually ignore the Narrator.

Ben: The what? Oh, right, that's what you call the disembodied voice hanging out around here.

Young: What would you call it?

Ben: A ghost, probably.

Young: So you believe in ghosts, but not in Narrators?

Ben: I'm a WERERAT. Believing in ghouls and goblins comes with the territory. "Narrators", not so much.

Young: Why is it so hard for you to believe that we're in a story?

Ben opens his mouth to fire back a sarcastic reply, then closes it for a moment as he seriously considers Young's question.

Ben: I have to believe that we have free will, that our lives have meaning.

Young: Who has more meaning than a character in a story, one who is destined for a great purpose?

Ben: Maybe, but it's NOT REAL.

Young: Is anything real? Maybe the Writers Realm itself is a gigantic dream of one of the writers. Mostly likely Geb the Writer...

Zip to the Writer's Realm.

Geb The Writer: You REALLY think we're in a dream?

Al Ciao The Writer: Not really, but philosophically speaking, the possibility must be admitted. Actually, if this is a dream, it's probably YOUR dream, like Young said.

Geb The Writer: Why, thank you sir!

Al Ciao The Writer: Which would mean that I'm not really real, and that the compliment I'm giving you is in fact your own ego pandering to itself.

Geb The Writer: Aw...

Zip back to Ben and Young.

Ben: That's weird. For a second there, I felt... I don't know... sort of phased out, like I wasn't really here.

Young: That's because there was a brief cut to another scene. We were in limbo.

Ben: That's crazy!

Young: It fits the facts. That's more than a lot of beliefs can say.

Ben: But- but-

Young: Do you believe in anything, Ben?

Ben: Well, I guess I believe in God-

Zip to the Writer's Realm again.

TLTE The Writer: Careful, Al, the censors get twitchy when we start talking about religion.

Krig The Writer: Yeah, remember when Canada sued us after we called their country the 9th circle of hell?

Al Ciao The Writer: That wasn't Canada, Krig, that was you in a tumbleweed outfit with a so-called "affidavit" scribbled in pencil.

Krig The Writer: Okay, but what about the time Russia sued us for having TLTE's Russian superspy character actually become a good guy?

Al Ciao The Writer: Bah. They only wanted a million rubles - which amounts to about two cents American money.

Zip back to Ben and Young.

Ben: -but I've never really - hey, I had that weird feeling again!

Young: Yep, another scene swipe. The writers were arguing. You were saying?

Ben: Uh, right. Well, actually, I HAVE felt kinda empty lately, like God's not listening to me.

Young: Oh, that's not God you're missing. Your writer's gone AWOL.

Ben: My... writer? You mean, I have a writer? I mean, in your cosmology, that is.

Young: You sure do.

Ben: Um, does everyone have a writer?

Young: Very few people have a writer of their own. But you're a Character(TM).

Ben is a little excited despite himself.

Ben: So what's my writer like?

Young: Well, I don't associate with the writers myself, being created independent from them, but let's see what they have to say about him.

Geb The Writer Voice-Over: Anyone who writes for NeS is okay in my book!

Britt The Writer Voice-Over: He's hilarious!

Al Ciao The Writer Voice-Over: He's utterly brilliant, seamlessly integrating story developments with humor and past references! Okay, where's my twenty bucks?

Ben: So... he's well-thought of?

Young: Of course!

Ben: What's his name?

Young: Benjamin Mahir.

Ben: But - that's MY name!

Young: What? You don't actually expect writers to be creative when naming their characters, do you? Besides, it's a time-honored convention.

At that moment, the door to the cabin bursts open. Ben and Young snap their heads to the newcomer. It is none other than Mustang Ford, the modern-day hero-type Ford's great-grandfather.

Mustang: Finally, I've found some heroes.

Young: I'm not a hero. I'm the princess of NeS.

Ben: And I'm just a sidekick.

Mustang: Close enough. I just wanted to see some friendly faces again.

Random Audience Member: Hey, weren't you gobbled up by Tsolo or something, several pages back?

Mustang: Frankly, the Writer doesn't remember. But even if I was, I'm a lich. Anytime I'm destroyed, I reform at my phylactery in the Haunted House of Heroes!

Random Audience Member: Hate to break it to you, but the HHH was destroyed by an undead dragon a page ago.

A plothole appears and gobbles up Mustang.

Mustang: Crap. It's way too dark in here.

Plot Hole Wizard: Welcome to the plot hole, Mustang Aurelius Ford. You're the first newcomer since Thrawn49995 here.

He gestures to an android who looks very similar to Thrawn42689. This Thrawn49995, trapped in this plothole since NeSquared was in the single digits, is sulking, arms crossed, head down.

Plot Hole Wizard: I must say, he's not very cheery company. But now I've got you!

Mustang: Wait! I remember this part! Don't I get a wish?

PHW: Um - surely you'd rather spend a little time with me first?

Mustang: Not a chance. Give me my wish.

PHW: *grumble grumble* ...fine. What is it?

Mustang: I wish for the Jellybean Pony!

PHW: Your wish is my command.

The mute Jellybean Pony, whom only the deceased cyborg Ahnuld can understand, reappears suddenly, after being lost for umpteen pages!

Mustang: Excellent. Jellybean Pony, I command you to take me to the HHH!

JellyBean Pony: ...

Mustang: Fine, the RUINS of the HHH.

He hops onto the JBP, who teleports out of the plothole - but Thrawn 49995 vaults onto the pony behind Mustang at the last minute! Before Mustang can exclaim his surprise, all three of them appear at the ruins of the HHH.

The creepy complex which is Teh Secret Base of Jim7 is still intact beneath the foundations of the ruined HHH (formerly the ancestral Simon manor of Geb and Losien's famed family), and a smaller purple rectangle with an arched entrance - the latter created by JM and serving as the new locale for various ghosts.

Thrawn49995 leaps off the JBP and runs around screaming, "I'm free! I'm free!" Mustang grumbles as he dismounts.

Mustang: Just what this story needs. Another insane android. I'd actually prefer the company of good ol' Galvenstein these days.

Thrawn49995: Hey, YOU try spending 20 pages in a plothole and see how sane you stay.

Mustang: Hey, I spent a hundred years in a non-story limbo after NeS1888, waiting for the Nes to start!

Thrawn49995: Well, you didn't have to spend that time with an obsessive-compulsive plothole wizard! I swear, that guy is worse than Janitor Bob!

Mustang: Yeah, so? I spent YEARS on a team with Janitor Roberto in the 19th century! So shove off!

A dangerous glint comes into Thrawn49995's red eyes, and he draws two AK-47s, each held easily in one of his strong hands.

Thrawn49995: Perhaps you should think twice before telling me to "shove it".

Mustang: I didn't say "shove it", I said "shove off".

Thrawn49995: No, you didn't, you said "shove it".

Mustang: I swear! I said "shove off"!

It's true, he did.

Thrawn49995: Oh, well, in that case - hey wait a minute! That's just as bad! *brandishes his twin AK-47s*

Mustang: Er, well, I'll just take you out with my runic magic!

Thrawn49995: Ha! Any NeScholar worth his salt knows that you lost your runes when you taught them to JK the White as the new Hand of the Plot and Druid of Doughnutdelf!

Mustang: But you're NOT a...

Thrawn49995 raises his guns threateningly.

Mustang: What I wouldn't give to still have my Cheshire Zippo. Er, um, LOOK OVER THERE!

Thrawn49995: What do you take me for, a fool?

Mustang: No really, it's Mr. T!

Thrawn49995: Ha! As if I would-

At that moment, Mister T lays his hand on the android's shoulder, and flips him into a tree.

Mister T: I pity the foo' who don't believe I'm here!

Mark Hamill walks up behind Mister T, looking sympathetically at the android's dented form against the tree.

Thrawn49995: Urgh...

Mark Hamill: Aw, that poor robot...

Mister T: I pity the foo' who pity the foo'!

Mustang: Mister T! Mark Hamill! What are you doing here?

Mark Hamill: Well, we heard that our good friends the NeS heroes had had their HQ destroyed, so we brought Tokyo's construction crews to rebuild the HHH!

Mustang: That's wonderful! But, uh, well...

Mister T: Speak up, foo'!

Mustang: Er, the heroes aren't here anymore.

Mark Hamill: That's not true. That's impossible!

Mister T: Search your feelings, foo', you KNOW it to be true!

Mustang: But any local preservation projects would love it if you restored this ancient manor, Geb and Losien's ancestral home.

Mark Hamill: Really? They never told me they had an ancestral home.

Mustang: Well, they didn't know about it, seeing as how it'd been missing since 1902. Actually, I still haven't gotten around to telling them about it...

Mister T: Let's get started, foo'!

The Tokyo construction crews come up and begin rebuilding the HHH. They decide to keep JM's purple addition as an outhouse. The Jolly Green Giant is used to lift the heaviest stones. TLTE's poor garden is trampled under his green feet, but let's be honest, it wasn't winning any awards anyway.

----------

Meanwhile (NeS count: More than YOU can imagine. I dunno, I can IMAGINE quite a bit...), inside Thand's fortress on Morchazima...

Geb: Wow, this is one humungous place.

Howard: Thand added to it over the centuries before he moved to Atlantis. It was his castle, his personal retreat, since the dawn of time.

Al Ciao: Which way should we go?

TLTE: Perhaps THAT would help us.

Before them is a crossroads, with many hallways branching off, and signs labeling each one. They say things such as "Oor Mines - This Way", "Cinnabore gardens - That Way", and "Library".

Krig: Krig think we go this way.

The sign Krig is pointing to says, "This Way to Avoid All the Traps."

Geb: Great! Let's go that way!

TLTE: Wait a moment, tovarish. That's probably a trap right there, meant to induce us into lowering our guard, only to be swept away by a gamut of squirrel traps!

Al Ciao: Okay, then which way should we go?

TLTE: Unless... it's REVERSE reverse psychology, and that IS the right way to go.

JMX01: Fine, then we'll go that way.

TLTE: UNLESS... Thand KNEW we'd figure that out, and trapped it after all.

Matthias: For the love of God, man, make up your mind!

TLTE glares at Matthias.

TLTE: Alright, I have made up my mind. We'll go that way, yes - but YOU'LL be five feet in front of the rest of us.

Matthias: Er, can we get a second opinion?

New Voice: Certainly.

Geb jumps ten feet in the air.

Geb: Ack! It's Thand again!

Amal: Ring.

Geb: Oh, right. Rachel, seriously, you have GOT to stop doing that to me.

Rachel: But it's just so FUN, Gebbit dear. You know that's why I love you.

She stops suddenly, aware that perhaps she's said too much.

Geb: You... still love me, Rachel?

Rachel: Er...

Howard: Hold on, youngsters. Little lady, we left you miles back, unconscious. How'd you catch up with us?

Rachel: Aha! An easier question! Well, see, what happened was- Well, actually, what I did - wait, no. Drat. It's NOT an easier question.

TLTE: Doesn't matter. We can't let her stop us now.

Rachel: STOP you? What makes you think I want to STOP you?

TLTE: Well, you did say you couldn't let us get to the treasury.

Rachel: And? Come on, you know I'm April Fools personified. I had to prank you like that.

Krig: Krig head hurt.

Rachel: Look, I'm a complex character with complex motivations. Not only am I April Fools personified, with the solemn duty to place a flaming bag of doggie doo in front of Jim's hellish Canadian throne at least once a year, I also am a woman with mixed feelings for Geb, AND the only current protector of the plotfractal, who has to keep any side from getting the upper hand and to keep the conflict going.

Matthias: Well, that was a long and needlessly expository monologue. Who's writing this crap anyway?

Zip to the Writer's Realm.

Krig The Writer: Yeah, Al Ciao, was that really necessary?

Al Ciao The Writer: I just wanted to jot down Rachel's motivations for my reference and for the reference of other writers, in-story!

Tracer The Writer: But what about those of us who don't care about character development and just want to write zany stuff?

Al Ciao The Writer: It's not my fault! It's, uh, Geb's fault! Yeah, that's it! He threatened to hurt me if I didn't include Rachel in this post!

Geb The Writer: Well, that's not EXACTLY what I said...

The other writers have turned to glare at him.

Geb The Writer: Um... free donuts for everyone?

Other Writers: Yay!

Zip back to Morchazima.

Rachel: Bottom line - I'm here to help you. For now.

New Voice: How charming.

Geb jumps ten feet in the air.

Geb: Ack! It's Thand - no, wait, it's Rachel again, isn't it?

Rachel: No, Geb, I'm right here.

Thand: I'm afraid it really is me this time.

TLTE: What are you doing here? You said you wouldn't try to stop us, except for the traps.

Thand: Firstly, that was only a ploy to eliminate conflict in order to force you to choose another quest. Thanks to your audacious Viking, that didn't work. Secondly, what trap is deadly than the trapmaker?

TLTE: Alright, everyone, get ready to take him! Krig, you and I will take the center! Geb, hang back with Rachel and Al! Matthias, you and--

Thand: I'm not here to fight you.

JMX01: What?

Thand: Not at the moment, anyway. I'm here to talk.

Howard: What, you're going to convince us not to loot your temple?

Thand: Perhaps so, Master Dragonbane.

Al: Give it your best shot!

Thand: what if I can prove that you're going to fail?

Al: Hah! If it's one thing I've learned about this story, the heroes always win. It's an ultimate convention.

Thand: Even ultimate conventions can be subverted, Master Ciao. Particularly if you're not heroes.

Amal: What are you talking about, Uncle Thand? Of course they're heroes!

Thand: So certain, are you? Did you know that their leader, Geb, kicked a helpless poodle back in '86?

All the heroes whip their heads to stare at Geb.

Matthias: It's true. Janitor Bob ratted him out on page 45.

Even Rachel seems shocked by this revelation.

Rachel: Gebohq - WHY?

Geb: Well, I wanted to play a prank on Dean Stockwell at NeSU, and I couldn't find any doggie doo anywhere, and then the darn dog wouldn't crap, and I-

He cuts off, ashamed. Al Ciao breaks the silence.

Al Ciao: I'm your friend, Geb, for better or for worse. I accept you as who you are.

TLTE: We all do.

The other hero-types nod, even Rachel after a moment. Krig pats Geb's back.

Howard: Friendship, Thand. Perhaps a greater convention than mere heroics. I'd say that undoes your little scheme.

Amal: See, Uncle Thand?

Thand: We'll see, nephew. Friendship will be particularly tested when Master True Evil's future comes to pass. In any case, what about the fact that all these hero-types took over Switzerland on page 28 of the original NeS? Isn't conquest normally associated with villainy?

JMX01: What? Y'all... conquered a whole country?

Geb: Oh, yeah...

TLTE: Do you know, I'd forgotten all about that?

Krig: Krig remember! Krig still go to Swiss-land sometimes! They give Krig shinies!

All the other heroes blink, stunned.

Al: They do, Krig?

Krig: Yes! See?

The diminutive Viking starts pulling various jewels, brooches, bracelets, watches, and even a crown out of his blue tunic for inspection.

Rachel: Apparently, THEY remember, even if the rest of you don't.

Krig: Swiss even call Krig King and bow to Krig!

Al: Wow.

He reaches wonderingly for the golden crown, but Krig jerks it away and eyes Al suspiciously.

Krig: You not take Krig's shinies!

Thand: Rachel - your duty is to create conflict, but for conflict to exist, there must be free will, for only where there are different wills can there be opposition. Your heroes have overthrown a country and deprived its citizens of their will. Can you stand with them?

Rachel: Well, um...

Thand: Consider carefully before you speak, protector.

Rachel: I will definitely have to speak with them *she eyes Geb meaningfully, who gulps* about this, but in this story arc, you still have the upper hand, and as such, I still have to stand with them.

Geb crows triumphantly.

Geb: For all your manipulations, Thand, you still can't stop us!

Amal: Take that, Uncle Thand!

Thand smiles, just barely.

Thand: My dear "nephew", did you know that your idols are all *he pauses for dramatic effect* notorious double-parkers?!

Everyone gasps.

Amal: Uncle Tee Ell Tee Ee - is this true?

TLTE hangs his head.

TLTE: I'm sorry, Amal. One of the writers mentioned it back on page 8 of NeSquared, and we've never lived it down.

All the hero-types shuffle their feet uneasily, hanging their heads in shame. Surprisingly, it is Geb to leaps to all their defenses.

Geb: This is what forgiveness and repentance are for, Master Thand. We are all sinners, yes, but redeemed.

Zip to the Writers Realm. What, again? How many times are we going to go through this? Alright, fine, fine. Shutting up.

Geb The Writer: Al, seriously, I love this, it's a great part of Geb's character, and one of his primary differences from Thand, but, uh, the censors are getting REALLY twitchy with all this religious stuff.

Al Ciao The Writer: So? Isn't dealing with censors YOUR job?

Geb The Writer: Er, maybe, but it's a heck of a lot easier if my writers don't--

Al Ciao The Writer dangles a donut in front of Geb The Writer's face, and Geb's eyes glaze over.

Geb The Writer: ...mmm, donut...

Al Ciao The Writer throws the donut over his cubicle wall, and Geb dives after it.

Al Ciao The Writer: Problem solved. Now where was I? Oh, yes...

Zip back to Morchazima.

Thand: There is no redemption, Master Simon. Not for you, not for humanity. We are what our choices make us.

Geb: Then I guess we don't see eye to eye, Thand. We're not stopping.

The hero-types start forward.

Thand: You leave me no choice, then.

He waves a hand, and with a SNIKT, all the traps in Morchazima are opened, releasing hundreds of now-rabid squirrels, who rush our beloved heroes, intent on devouring them whole. A merry scene for all involved! Well, except for our heroes, at least. But they deserve it. Double-parking, I tell you...

Ah, Austria. Its greatest distinction in history comes from the fact that the ignorant often confuse it with Australia. Some of this confusion probably comes from the fact that a bunch of German-Australians (who are all kinds of weird by themselves, but that's another story) founded a hamlet in a remote section of the European country which came to be known as Astralianismitish.

Random Audience Member: Okay, moving past the fact that "Astralianismitish" is not a word in ANY known language except Gibberish--

Random Linguist Audience Member: I'll have you know, that Gibberish is a perfectly acceptable dialect, if one uses the definition of language as something designed to obscure one's meaning!

RAM #1: MOVING PAST ALL THAT... I thought Astralianismitish was a village in the dreamstate! What is it doing here in the real world?

RAM #3: Haha! You said "real world".

RAM #1: Story world, then.

Don't worry. We have Master Thand here to explain!

Professor Phand: Actually, Master Thand is busy unleashing rabid squirrels on our heroes, so it's up to me. You see, the dreamstate is a state of constant flux and chaos, often subject, at least in part, to one's will, especially one's subconscious. Often, places in the so-called "real" world, or main NeS state, have a reflection within the dreamstate. Astralianismitish is one such place that has a reflection in the dreamstate, based on the dreams and nightmares of its inhabitants.

Satisfied?

RAM #1: Would it make a difference if I said no?

Not really. So, anyway, in Astraliansmitish, a hamlet in Austria founded centuries ago by German-Australians, the pretty-much Forgotten Character(TM) known sometimes as Ricky and other times as Red, is slapped awake by a rough hand. She comes to consciousness, finding herself tied to a chair in a midsize room with faded flower prints on the wall, and a one-handed paramedic in front of her.

Red: What are you slapping me for?

Joe the One-Handed Paramedic: To get you awake, of course. *turning to someone behind him* She's awake, boss.

Joe the Paramedic, who lost his hand to Mayaal in the dreamstate on page 8, steps aside to reveal a desk with an imposing Austrian man in a dark business suit squeezed in. Well, perhaps, the imposing Austrian man in the dark business suit would be more imposing if the desk he was sitting in wasn't an elementary school desk designed for a child. This ambiguously imposing man is none other than... the Mayornator.

Random Audience Member: Hahaha! The "Mayornator"? What kind of stupid name is that?

Mayornator: You shut up! It's not my fault that "Governator" is already taken.

RAM: Oh, I get it. This is some kind of gibe suggesting that all Austrians are like Arnold Schwarzenegger. Clever. *rolls eyes*

Red: Okay, Mayornator, you're the one who hired me to assassinate Gebohq, and I couldn't do it. You didn't have to fork over any cash, though. So why am I trussed up here?

Mayornator: We don't take failure lightly, Red. Tell me, would you like to know why we wanted you to kill Mr. Simon?

Red: Actually, I really don't care.

Mayornator: Well, for the sake of our audience, I'll explain.

RAM: Actually, we really don't care, either.

Mayornator: Hush you. On page 8, Ms. Red, Mr. Simon led a band of so-called heroes into the dreams of Astralianismitish, where he wreaked havoc on our fair citizenry. Even today, in our waking lives, we are still traumatized - and our nightmares are the stuff of... nightmares.

Joe the One-Handed Paramedic: I lost my hand in that dream; and when I woke up, the hand was gone for real.

Mayornator: So we vowed revenge upon Mr. Simon. And you were to be the instrument of that revenge. But you failed.

Red: Well, excuse me for living.

Mayornator: But now we have a better plan. Our scientists have constructed a cyborg, christened "Ahnuld", who runs on rainbows. He is an unstoppable killing machine. Of course, he likes to grope people, but one bug doesn't spoil his design. But then we thought, why merely kill Mr. Simon in revenge? Why not send Ahnuld back in time to kill him before he ever has the chance to prey on us and ruin our lives? So, not half an hour ago, we sent him back in time to page 3 to destroy him!

Red: Uh, not to rain on your parade or anything, but I remember hearing about him. He was destroyed by an EMP bomb in the Dominion of Bleeding Eyes on page 10.

Mayornator: ...crap.

Red: But look on the bright side!

Mayornator: Yeah? What's that?

Red: In one fell swoop, you have explained both Ahnuld's mysterious origins AND the motivations of the people who had hired me when I first appeared - things previously unexplained!

Mayornator: *sullenly* Happy happy joy joy.

----------

In the 8th dimension, Tokyo construction crews under Mark Hamill, Mister T, and Mustang Ford have completed the rebuilding of the HHH in record time!

Mark Hamill: I can't wait to tell my friends Geb and Krig that I rebuilt their base!

Mustang: Well, actually, they're on some kind of quest right now. Have to wait.

Mark Hamill: Aw, but I wanted to go to Tosche Station and get some power converters!

Mustang: ...what?

Mister T: Stop whining, foo'!

Mustang: So let's watch TV till they get back!

Mark Hamill: I know! Let's watch Star Wars!

Mister T: Naw, foo', let's watch A-Team!

The clicking of the remote interrupts them as Thrawn49995 changes to NENBC - the Never Ending News Broadcast Channel, first introduced on page 40-something and forgotten since then.

Ying Hu Jackuzimama (the TV reporter): In other news, the new movie "From Russia With Love" opens up in theaters everywhere today, starring Liam Neeson and Rachel McAdams. Originally pitched as an action-packed biopic of the former KGB agent code-named The Last True Evil #105, it has instead become an action-packed romance, depicting TLTE's epic romance with the renowned charity worker Losien Simon. This film has been highly anticipated since the real TLTE signed off on it on page 12, not so much because of TLTE's story, but because of Miss Simon's role in his life. Known fondly as "a sexy Mother Teresa", Miss Simon is who every woman wants to be and who every man wants to date. Played by Rachel McAdams in the film, the real Losien Simon is out of reach, last reported in an African village doing - what else? - charity work.

He pauses, in order to break up his long, hard-to-read paragraph.

Ying Hu Jackuzimama: This film chronicles the romance between TLTE and Losien from its rocky inception up till TLTE's death in the Kirby Brawl. A sequel is being planned to cover the daring showdown between TLTE and Michael MacLongname over Losien, but since the character of Losien would not have an appearance till the end of said sequel, pundits don't think it would do well. The current film has received critical acclaim for its use of Losien's hairpin as a thematic element, but is the subject of much controversy for its depiction of TLTE's insistence that Losien's hair is raven black - rather than its famous bright auburn color - as almost hallucinatory. Still, theaters are packed with filmgoers who love the romance between the good girl and the bad boy.

Thrawn49995: I don't get it. Why is this post including a movie referred to by TLTE on page 12?

Mister T: Because the Writer's running out of ideas, foo'!

Ying Hu Jackuzimama: Losien Simon herself is rather shy of the public eye. Paparazzi and pornographers have been trying to get scintillating pictures of her for years, without success. However, we have here the recorded comments of two eyewitnesses who have seen her in her beautifully indecent moments.

Brodie Thomas (On TV): I lived next door to Losien and her brother Geb for 6 years! I used to watch her in the shower through my window - she is HOT, man!

Joe the Sound Guy (On TV): I totally did her, man! We did it in the laundromat. But then she fell in love with Mick MacLongname, so I became evil and gave her a bomb giftwrapped as a birthday present.

Ying Hu Jackuzimama: If you're still not satisfied, there are many pictures available of Losien's head Photoshopped on another woman's body. Also, pick up back issues of her mother, Mrs. Geb's Mom Simon, who was a Playboy Bunny in the '60s.

Mark Hamill: Wait a minute. I thought the NeS heroes were not very well-known.

Mustang: It's weird, actually. While teams such as Hero Force One are more famous and liked, the NeS Heroes make good tabloid fodder in certain circles, as referenced page 12. And certain members of the team - especially Losien - have a fame of their own, quite apart from the hero-types.

Thrawn49995: Just why is Losien so well-liked?

Mustang: I think "sexy Mother Teresa" says it all.

Zip to the Writer's Realm.

Geb The Writer: Somehow, "Mother Teresa" and "sexy" don't exactly go together.

Al Ciao The Writer: It just means that she's well-loved and charitable as well as beautiful and sexy.

Geb The Writer: Hmm, but I don't like the idea of NeS heroes being well-known at all. They're supposed to be obscure.

Al Ciao The Writer: Yeah, I know, but the idea of their being tabloid fodder was introduced by TLTE the Writer on page 12. What was I supposed to do, ignore that and sweep it under the rug?

Geb The Writer: YES!

Al Ciao The Writer: Oh.

Zip back to the HHH.

Mustang: What are you looking at us for? We don't have any more lines.

Right. In that case, let's listen to some more of the news.

Ying Hu Jackuzimama: In other news, astute readers will recall that earlier on page 29, World War III began. Most citizens were unfazed by this, as it was small potatoes next to subjugation by Helebon and his demonic forces, but a peace treaty was just signed today! It seems that Hawaii was nuked, and since every major leader in the world loves to go there on vacation, this horrified every regime in the world! Thus the peace treaty was rushed to be signed. Every country also agreed to disarm their nuclear bombs, only to discover that most of their nuclear arsenal has already been pilfered by one-post thread killers.

Mark Hamill: Huh?

Thrawn49995: You know, those wannabes who launch a million nukes at everything in the universe.

Mark Hamill: Ah.

Ying Hu Jackuzimama: Unfortunately, every animal and insect in Hawaii has mutated into horrific monsters. Fortunately, the human survivors of Hawaii developed superpowers. Unfortunately, most of them were eaten by the monsters. Fortunately, the survivors of the survivors are being relocated to Hero Force One's space station, to be evaluated for the possibility of forming "backup squads" (such as Hero Forces Two, Three, Four, etc.).

Zip to the Hero Force One space station.

Seraphim: So what's your superpower?

Punk with Mohawk: I have acidic spit.

Seraphim: *sighs tiredly*

Zip back to the HHH.

Mustang: I don't know why you keep zipping back to us. I told you we don't have any more lines.

Well, let's go back to the Hero Force One space station, then.

Judge: Hey, maybe one of these new radioactively superpowered Hawaiians can replace the Company Kid. Since that new one - what was his name? Ben? - went AWOL.

Dr. R. Deep: Actually, without the Patriot, we don't really need the Company Kid.

Magick Snowflakes: Just as well. We kept losing them despite Seraphim's healing powers.

Qhobeg #2 (the first Qhobeg is the general of Hell): I don't get it. Seraphim's an angel - why can't she resurrect the Company Kids when they die?

Dr. R. Deep: Because they don't want to come back.

Magick: Why not?

Judge: Apparently it's very traumatic being the Patriot's sidekick. So whatever happened to the Patriot?

Qhobeg #2: All we know is that TLTE mysteriously took care of him on page 28. But with my storywielding powers, we can view a flashback!

The air shimmers in front of Hero Force One, and a scene from page 28 appears. The Last True Evil stares down the Patriot.

Patriot: So how do you destroy someone who's invulnerable, Commie?

TLTE: Heh. Narrator! Tell a lie!

Um... The Patriot wears ladies' underpants.

TLTE: Hey, nothing happened!

Patriot: Erm... *grows beet red* Perhaps you should know something, heh...

Zip to the World of Writercraft.

Geb The Writer: You're recycling a joke from some 20-odd pages ago.

Al Ciao The Writer: Erm... I don't know what you're talking about.

Geb The Writer: Come on! I've read the NeS multiple times! You didn't think you could really slip that past me!

Al Ciao The Writer: Alright, you caught me. But I'm only recycling jokes because it's good for the environment!

Geb The Writer: Suuuuure you are...

Losien The Writer: Oh, Al! That's so great of you! *huggles*

Al Ciao The Writer:

Geb The Writer: Grr...

Zip back to the flashback.

TLTE: Alright, so the Patriot really DOES wear ladies' underpants. Narrator! Try again.

Er... TLTE wears nipple clamps?

Patriot: He does?

TLTE: No, you see, if the Narrator tells a lie, it opens a--

At that moment, a plothole swallows the two of them, and TLTE and the Patriot find themselves facing the Plothole Wizard.

PHW: Alright, you know the drill. One wish apiece.

Patriot: I wish to be freed from this miserable pit!

PHW: And yours?

TLTE: *smiles devilishly* I wish that Patriot's wish be switched with me!

Patriot: What? No! You can't steal my wish!

As TLTE fades out from the plothole back into the story proper, he grins and says:

TLTE: You asked me how you destroy someone who's invulnerable, comrade. The answer is--you don't.

And then he is gone, leaving the Patriot trapped forever.

Patriot: NOOOOOOO!

PHW: Want to play poker?

The flashback fades, and the members of Hero Force One stir uneasily.

Judge: So I suppose we should go rescue him?

Qhobeg #2: I'm not sure we can... at least anytime in the foreseeable future.

Magick Snowflakes: Besides, he may be superstrong and invincible, but he's a jerk and was still caught up in Cold War rhetoric that I'm too young to understand.

Judge: Shouldn't we choose someone else to replace him at least? Someone powerful.

Qhobeg #2: But well-versed in the ways of NeS, too. The Patriot knew nothing of the story, but he was still iconic, a symbol, and as such was potent in the ways of the story as well.

Magick: Who?

Dr. R. Deep: I've been researching this. And I have an idea...

Judge: Well, don't leave us in suspense. Tell us!

Qhobeg #2: Actually, there has to be a little suspense - that's part of the story.

Judge: Look, Qhobeg, you may be our resident storywielding expert, but that doesn't give you leave to be a bloody wise guy.

Qhobeg #2: A wise guy, eh? Well, you oughta know, being a snooty Brit!

Judge: Yeah, that's original, insult my nationality. It's not easy when your homeland's been renamed the Dominion of Bleeding Eyes!

Qhobeg #2: You think so, huh? Well, Helebon's takeover IMPROVED it!

Judge: You little...

As the two bicker heatedly, Magick turns to Dr. R. Deep.

Magick: So, who is it?

Dr. R. Deep: I hesitate to bring this up, as he is a very dangerous and ambitious man. But he might be just the thing this team needs. His name... is Highemperor.

Magick: And again, who is that?

Dr. R. Deep: Well, I'm not sure. According to the historical record, there was an Armenian king who became a creature named Highemperor about a hundred years ago. But in more arcane history, there was a Highemperor among the champions of ancient Atlantis. I'm not sure if the current Highemperor is one of them, or neither. Perhaps the more modern one is a clone of the Atlantean one, or a successor. At any rate, he is very powerful, both in raw concrete ability and in the ways of the story.

Magick: So where is he?

Dr. R. Deep: Well, that's the thing. He dropped out of sight a few years ago. I recently cast a scrying on him, but it's confusing. Here, I'll show you.

He moves his fingers in complicated motions, and the air in front of them shimmers, revealing Al Ciao and the other heroes fighting off rabid squirrels in an ancient temple.

Dr. R. Deep: That's all the scrying will show me. No sign of Highemperor anywhere.

Magick: Who's THAT? He's cute.

She is pointing to the image of Amal, who is about her age.

Dr. R. Deep: I don't know. But I'm sure Qhobeg would tell you that your comment is an obvious tell. A convention indicating that you and he are destined to be together someday. Of course, who knows when the writers will actually get around to doing that. *suddenly* Hey, that's unusual, I haven't seen him in this scrying before.

A familiar spokesman has wandered into the ancient temple in the scrying past the rabid squirrels.

Verizon Guy on Cell: Can you hear me now? Good!

OMQ! Will Hero Force One attempt to recruit Al Ciao? Will any other writers (besides Geb) pick up on the obscure references in this post? Does anyone care? Stay TOONED!

Geb The Writer: "Stay tooned"? The Verizon guy? Now you're just nicking off Cool Matty's old jokes.

Al Ciao The Writer: Well, I'm just paying homage to a couple of classics.

Geb The Writer: You're kissing up to Cool Matty, you mean.

Al Ciao The Writer: Well, he IS the head of Massassi these days. Maybe he'll give me a raise.

At that moment, Cool Matty the Writer storms into the office, his face an angry thundercloud.

CM The Writer: Alright - WHO ripped off my jokes?!

Al Ciao The Writer pales. Thinking quickly, he points to Geb.

Al Ciao The Writer: It was Geb! It was him, I swear! I had nothing to do with it! He threatened to kill my family if I told!

CM The Writer: Good going, Geb! I'm gonna buy you a box of donuts a day for a year!

Geb The Writer: W00t!

Al Ciao The Writer:

Meanwhile, back at the HHH...

Cool Matty, Mimiru, Subaru and Wai burst through the door, laughing it up, having a good time.

Mimiru: Those guys sure were different, huh?

Subaru: You said it!

CM: Never thought that Michael guy would figure out a way back though, but I guess it's for the best!

Mustang suddenly looks over at the loud racket, annoyed.

Mustang: Where in the hell have you kids been?

CM: Oh nowhere, just helping some random subplot find its way back home in another story. Nothing big.

Mister T: Foo', that ain't nothin'! That there's a great thing you did for dem folks! You all shuld be proud! I pity da foo' who ain't!

Mustang: Oh right, some little thing about non-NeS characters stepping in. You know, that never was resolved. What did you do?

Wai: Their story needed them back ahead of schedule, so that subplot was abandoned. Sometimes you just have to cut out the fluff and keep going, right?

CM: Yep!

Mustang: That made no sense whatsoever, but in the interest of my sanity I will drop it. So what brings you here? More importantly, why are you here?

CM: This is the HHH, right?

Mustang: Sure, but it was just finished!

Wai: Right, what's the problem?

Mustang: How did you know where it'd ... you know what, forget it.

Mimiru: I have a question though!

Mark Hamill: Oh good, a question! I like answering questions!

Mustang: Yeah, whatever. Go on.

Mimiru: Why did you rebuild the haunted part of the HHH?

Mister T: It wouldn't be the Haunted House of Heroes without it being haunted, foo'!

Subaru: Right... I think we better let that go for our sanity, Mimiru.

Mimiru nodded. Mark Hamill, suddenly reminded of the haunted part, looked cautiously over at a dark room.

Mark Hamill: What's in there?

Mustang: Only what you take with you.

Mark Hamill slowly got up and walked into the dark room, disappearing quickly out of the light. Moments later a lightsaber was heard, then a scream. Mark Hamill came running back out.

Mark Hamill: Damnit! My own head again! It never changes!

Mimiru: So, what are you guys up to?

Mustang: Watching this useless crap.

Mister T: I told ya to put on da A-Team, foo'!

Mustang: First, it's not on. Second, even if it were, I'd rather watch this drudgery of news than that. Third, this news is slow enough, that if you kids keep your mouths shut, I might actually get some sleep!

Subaru: Mind if we join you?

Mustang: Only if you sit down and stay quiet!

CM: Sure sure, old man, we won't disturb your hibernations.

Mustang groaned in discontent, but otherwise ignored the remark. The group found seats around the TV, and they continued to watch the broadcast.

Stay TUNED! Get it, because they're watching TV? So it's like, doubly funny now! Isn't that awesome? I am SO CREATIVE.

Mustang: SHUT UP ALREADY!

Oh right, sorry.

The heroes, or rather Geb in particular, make quick work of the squirrels. Geb, using his practiced animal-kicking abilities, send the squirrels back from whence they came.

Geb: A hero must be prepared for all eventualities!

Suddenly, there is a loud squeal, and the heroes look up just in time to see the 101st Airborne Squirrel Division dropping upon them.

TLTE: Oh, borscht!

TLTE releases his patented nut launcher, blanketing the incoming squirrels with tasty treats.

The airborne division drop like flies, but not before suicide bombing the heroes with squirrely wrath.

Amal: Ow! They're nipping at my ankles!

Krig: Krig axe being gnawed! NOOOO!

Krig goes on a rampage, releasing his age-old Viking RODENT REVENGE technique. The squirrels retreat, but only to regroup, prepared to mount another attack.

Thand: Well, that took less time than expected. Hold on, squirrel army. Let us attempt a peaceful resolution.

Geb: Prepared to hand over your valuables and meet your maker, Thand?

Thand: Perhaps after I give you one more thought experiment.

TLTE: We don't need any of this.

Thand: Don't be so hasty, TLTE. There are plenty of traps to fight soon enough. Let me ask you a question, Geb... do you still believe yourselves to be heroes?

Geb: Of course!

Thand: Intriguing. You also believe that without conflict, NeS as we know it would cease to exist, yes?

Geb: Right.

Thand: It seems we agree on one particular point, then. I simply disagree on one minor detail: none of you are heroes.

Geb: You already said that.

Thand: I am the NeS's true hero.

TLTE: Wait, what?

Thand: Of course, let me explain for your feeble minds. You all wish to defeat me, I am your conflict. But I am one of the longer standing foes you've faced in NeS history. I purpose that in actuality, I have done more to maintain the NeS than you have ever attempted to, Gebohq.

Thand: Your concepts of good and evil, are truly the storybook definition of heroes. But this is not any old storybook, Gebohq. I have done more to protect the NeS's existence than you ever had. Your motives have been wrong from the beginning. Through my "evil", I have sustained conflict. And as a protector, I am sure Rachel can understand this.

Rachel looks intently at Thand.

Rachel: I'm not sure what you're suggesting. You're playing a fine line.

Thand: As I must! It is a difficult job, to be a villain who both plays to win, and plays to lose, at the same time. But you get this, don't you? You play for the conflict, not for the victory. Do you get it? I am the NeS's true protector, the one destined for greatness. That is why you will not win here, Gebohq. You cannot win here. If you defeat me now, Rachel will be forced to take my place in conflict, but more importantly, the tides will be greatly imbalanced in your favor. Do you think you could reboot the NeS and save it again, Gebohq? Do you still hold that power?

Thand: I think you know that answer.

Thand, the master manipulator seems to have the heroes in his grip once again. Is he the true protector of the plotfractal? Or is this yet another ruse to further push Thand's greater purpose? Most importantly, will the heroes figure it out in time? STAY TOONED!

NSP: welcome back, Cool Matty! NeS' resident firemaster has been sorely missed!

In the realm of 1337/leet, order has been imposed on the chaos, ever since the great battle between JK the White and Qwerty. Divided into black and white squares, like a chessboard, the domains of Bhac and Mayaal are clearly marked out.
Over the emptiness, an airyacht hovers. Mayaal sips his brandy, then lays it down on the waiting tray profferred by ButlerKirby. On the deck in front of him, a spot of blood appears, pooling into a larger puddle, and Bhac slides up through it.

Bhac: There you are!

Mayaal: As if my floating yacht is hard to find.

Bhac: Hush you. I just have a quick question.

Mayaal: No, I will NOT wash your back for you!

Bhac: Not THAT. Although I do wish you'd reconsider - but that's not why I'm here. Is Thand a protector of the plotfractal?

Mayaal: Not last I checked. Why?

Bhac: He's just finished claiming to the heroes that he is.

Mayaal: Hmm. Well, perhaps in an unofficial capacity he is, but the protectors serve the story. While Thand might look out for the story's best interests, he doesn't SERVE it, per se.

Bhac: So he's lying, eh? Now I can exploit this chink in your precious Thand's armor!

Mayaal: What are you talking about? Isn't Thand on your side?

Bhac: What? Of course not! He's a protagonist!

Mayaal: No, clearly, he's one of the story's greatest antagonists.

Bhac opens his mouth to retort, then stops, as he and Mayaal simply stare at each other. Mayaal breaks the silence first, voicing the question on both their minds.

Mayaal: Just whose side is he on, anyway?

In the Haunted House of Heroes, a beeping is heard.

Mark Hamill: What's that?

Mister T: It's a beeper, foo'!

Mustang: Mine, sorry. I'm being paged by the Magium. Top secret meeting of the greatest minds in the world, you know.

Cool Matty: Hey, I didn't know you were part of the Magium!

Mustang: Yes. Trained there in my youth, returned there in 1902. Did you go?

Cool Matty: Can't answer that.

Mustang: Why not? Vow of secrecy?

CM: No...

Mustang: A geas of silence?

CM: No...

Mustang: What, then?

CM: The writer of this post doesn't know if CM The Writer would be cool with the idea of me having attended the Magium, so is leaving that question unresolved for now.

Mustang: Ah... Well, cheerio, then!

He disappears in a puff of green smoke.

Subaru: So what now?

Thrawn49995 ignores everyone. Mister T is channel-surfing. CM and Mimiru have taken the opportunity to engage in a make-out session on the couch. Mark Hamill leans over to Subaru with a glint in his eye.

Mark Hamill: Well, you and I could join the make-out club...

Subaru: Ewwwwwwww, no!

Mark Hamill: If only you knew the POWAH, of the COOL side, you'd do it.

Subaru: If YOU knew the power of the cool side, you wouldn't say stupid stuff like that.

Suddenly, CM's hero watch beeps, and they hear MZZT's voice through it.

MZZT: Come in, come in! Calling all available heroes to Cris B's Chikin Shack! We've just been assaulted by Qhobeg and Dr. Gebiyl!

CM: *ignoring the watch as he continues to kiss Mimiru* Ah, just another villainous duo...

MZZT: They're trying to steal our GameCube!

CM: *breaking away from liplock* NOW THEY GO TOO FAR! Come on, gang, let's go!

Subaru: But where are we going?

MZZT: Repeat, we're at Cris B's Chikin Shack! Backup requested!

Mimiru: Dr. Gebiyl? Is that the evil Geb from NeShattered?

MZZT: Any heroes who receive this message beware of Dr. Gebiyl, as he is an unknown factor, using the same name as the evil Geb from NeShattered, only with a Ph.D.! No one knows where he comes from or what he's capable of!

Mimiru stares at CM's hero watch, from which MZZT's voice is issuing.

Mimiru: You can hear us, can't you, MZZT?

MZZT: Um... no?

Subaru: What are we waiting for? Let's go!

CM: Wait, where's Wai?

Zip to the crumbling fortress of Morchazima, where Thand is confronting our heroes.

TLTE: I understood that protectors weren't necessarily heroes, as they could be required to do bad things in order to further the story.

Thand: But what greater heroics can there be, than furthering the story?

Geb: Hmm...

Rachel: But since when are you a protector, Thand?

Thand: Not officially, certainly. But you must admit, I've been acting in that capacity.

Amal, heretofore silent, speaks up.

Amal: But Uncle Thand, just because you're a hero doesn't mean you're the protagonist of the story.

Howard: Aha! That defeats your logic, Thand!

Thand: True. But you have admitted - I am a hero.

JMX01: Is this going to bite us in the butt a few pages later?

Matthias: I'm not sure how, but Thand is a master.

Krig: Master at what?

Al Ciao: Everything.

Thand: But we are still at an impasse regarding my treasury. I suggest a game.

Geb: Yay! A game!

Matthias: *suspiciously* What kind of game?

Thand: A contest of laughter. We take turns telling jokes or funny stories, and the one who laughs last, wins.

TLTE: Why would we play your game, when we've already defeated your squirrels?

Thand: Surely you're not suggesting that you want to combat me personally?

TLTE: That's EXACTLY what I'm--

Al Ciao: TLTE, that might not be the best idea.

Howard: Besides, he's already invoked the convention of a contest. Once invoked, it cannot be rescinded. We have to either accept, or give up on our quest.

TLTE: *grits his teeth* Very well. We accept.

Suddenly, the Game Show Host and several beautiful models show up, and neon lights and a crowd of spectators appear all around them.

Game Show Host: Welcome to Don't Make Me Laugh! On one side, we have the NeSheroes!

The crowd cheers and applauds, even as several of its members whisper to one another, "Who?"

Game Show Host: And coming up against them, on his own, is MASTER THAND!

The crowd claps its hands and stamps its feet.

TLTE: Wait a minute - didn't I blast you apart with a rocket launcher nearly 20 pages ago?

Game Show Host: A minor setback. The show must go on, you know. Even the game show.

TLTE's sharp eye notices the spittle drooling out of the side of the Game Show Host's mouth, the stitching along his skin.

TLTE: Oh my WriterGod, you're a zombie now.

Game Show Host: Yes, but I'm allergic to brains, never having had any in life. So I'm a vegetarian zombie.

TLTE: Vegetarian...?

Game Show Host: Yes. I want GRAAAAAAAAIIIIIINS!

Dead silence meets his pronouncement. The Game Show Host clears his throat.

Game Show Host: Well, I thought it was funny.

Zip to the Writer's Realm. Al Ciao the Writer is doubled up with laughter in front of his computer. The other writers are watching him, shaking their heads.

Tracer The Writer: Extremely bad form, laughing at your own jokes.

Ford The Writer: Well, you know our motto has always been, "We Laugh At Our Own Jokes So You Don't Have To." Still, he's carrying it a little far.

Geb The Writer: Alright, Al, not only did you plagiarize a joke I told you, you set it up so that no one thought it was funny. That's doubly insulting!

Al Ciao struggles to speak, but can't get any words out around his giggles. Geb The Writer sighs.

Geb The Writer: You're not gonna make me finish your post, are you?

----------

In France, hidden behind a veil of unseeing-

Random Audience Member: A "veil of unseeing"? Does that mean it's invisible?

Well, it's VISIBLE, it's just that people don't pay attention to it.

RAM: Huh?

Well, you know, like something you see but don't notice? For example, what color is the paint on your bedroom wall?

RAM: Mauve.

Okay, so maybe that's a bad example.

RAM #2: Either that, or RAM #1 is obsessive-compulsive about attention to detail.

RAM #1: I heard that! *body slams RAM #2*

OKAY, so behind a magical veil of unseeing lies the Magium [/shameless NeS1888 plug], the premier center for the mystic arts on Earth, perhaps in the whole of NeS itself. The Magium's campus includes the Arcane Academy, from which Semievil graduated summa cum laude.

Random Arcane Academy Alum: Only because he skipped all the classes and then just imbibed massive quantities of Coca-cola before exams!

Still nursing a grudge cuz you barely passed?

RAAA: It's rather upsetting, you know! I slave away on projects and studying, and HE just breezes by-

Yes, yes, we're all very sad for you, but that was 20 years ago! Don't tell me you've let this consume your life - that's just pathetic!

RAAA: You're wrong! My mother tells me I'm a good boy, I tell you, a good boy!

... I rest my case.

RAM #3: Hang on, didn't Sem appear in the NeSU college days flashbacks? How could he have been at the Arcane Academy, too?

The writer doesn't remember if Sem was there or not, but during the Atlantis/Lord of the Rings rip-off that turned out to just be a massive holodeck farce, Semievil mentioned that he'd attended the Arcane Academy with Lightside. If you must make an issue of it, let's just say the Arcane Academy has a satellite campus at NeSU.

RAM #3: That doesn't make any sense, either! He couldn't have gone to school with Lightside. He'd just been created by a magic mirror of opposites that a writer had invented on the fly - the same writer who is writing this very post, I might add!

Hmmm, well, instead of listening to him ramble on, let's have a moment of silence to remember The Last True Evil the Boromir Rip-Off, who was slain during the aforementioned Atlantis/Lord of the Rings holodeck farce.

...

Alright, now that that's settled, let's move on to this post. The Magium is a center for the greatest mages of the world - some powerful in politicking, some in sheer fame, others simply by the sheer puissance of their magickal skill. Some of these top mages are consulting with one another right now in a hidden chamber in one of the Magium's otherwise forgotten cellars.

Dr. R. Deep: Yes, yes, I know we're all upset about the loss of your summer retreat on Maui, Faust, but we really do have more important matters to discuss.

Faust: Hmph. I didn't sell my soul to the devil to live forever just to have all my luxuries taken from me.

Hermes Trismegistus: Don't you have a dozen more tropical retreats?

Faust: Yeah, most of those were kamikazed by the Japs in World War II.

Mustang Ford: Can't you just conjure up new retreats with a wave of your hand?

Faust: It's the principle of the matter!

Hermes Trismegistus: I motion that we move on.

Taliesin: Seconded!

Deep: Motion carried. Now then, I am searching for the one called Highemperor.

The other master mages go very still. Deep notices the telltale twitch in Mustang's eye, but does not comment on it.
Faust: Him? The one who briefly ruled the Omnicon before shattering it? Why?

Deep: I want him to join Hero Force One.

Taliesin: What ever for?

Deep: Look, we agreed that I should join HF1 in order to channel some of their efforts into maintaining the balance of magickal power in this plane, so I don't see why you should question my decisions regarding the team.

Mustang: Highemperor IS a wild card, Deep. I think we have every right to question.

Deep: Very well. He is strong both in the ways of the story and in concrete reality-warping. Imagine not only the greater effectiveness Hero Force One would have with him, but how we could divert ley lines from all over the universe to this planet!

Hermes Trismegistus: There is a certain amount of sense to that. In the 4th century A.D., I reinvented myself from a mythological god into a patron of alchemists and sorcerers. A similar reinvention of Highemperor could grant him - and us - greater influence.

Mustang: Perhaps. But it doesn't matter. He's dead. Died in the dreamstate on page 8.

Taliesin: We all know that both great characters and great men cannot long be held by death. And Highemperor is both.

Mustang: WAS both. After his quest in the Shattered Story, Highemperor lost much of his will to live. If he did not WANT to come back, then he wouldn't have.

Faust: I find myself curious to know if this Highemperor is the same one from the arcane histories of ancient Atlantis - you know, the one in the Champions?

Deep: Mustang, you knew the current Highemperor when he was just an Armenian king in the 1800s. Was there any indication of how he could have derived his power and title? Ancient Atlantean artifacts he may have possessed, perhaps?

Mustang: No, although when he reappeared shortly before World War I and contacted me, he seemed to have a great age in his eyes - and his body hadn't aged in the decades since I'd last seen him.

Hermes Trismegistus: Time-traveling?

Deep: Maybe. If only we could talk to someone who knew the Atlantean Highemperor.

Hermes Trismegistus: Ares did. He was one of their Champions, remember?

Taliesin: Somehow I don't see Ares deigning to share his old memories with us.

Hermes Trismegistus: He shares them with me.

Faust: He does?

Hermes Trismegistus: Yep. I bet him that he couldn't destroy me even if I gave him a year to do it. He took me up on it. Well, I wasn't the messenger of the gods for nothing. I ran swifter than warpspeed across creation for a year, and though he pursued he couldn't catch me, even with his storm of fireballs. So I was alive at the end of a year, and he lost, so as my reward I made him give me access to all his knowledge with me. I did it mainly to be as powerful in combat as he, but I get unlimited access to his memories at any time. 'Course, then he beat me up and left me with bruises that didn't fade for another year...

Deep: Show us then.

Hermes Trismegistus - ancient god, immortal patron of master mages, and noted candymaker - waves a hand negligently, and all those present are suddenly plunged into a scene from the far past, as seen through a much younger Ares' eyes. Ares is in Atlantis; though this is before the city-state fell into the giant plothole, much of it is in ruins, being in the middle of a devastating war, launched by the invasion of a suddenly rebellious Helebon, master of Hell.

Ares: Ha! I love a good battle!

He swoops around, blasting hordes of demons with fireballs. Collateral damage such as collapsing white marble pillars only makes him smile more broadly.

A flash of white catches the corner of his eye, and he turns to see the mysterious one called Highemperor hovering through the air to him, wrapped in an aura of silvery-white power.

Ares: Come, share in the bloodbath, Highemperor!

Highemperor: While I appreciate cutting loose as much as the next, I do not revel in blood and gore as you seem to, Ares.

Ares: Why not? It's great!

Highemperor: Well, I won't get into my philosophy of happiness with you, as you aren't wired for anything but war and combat, so let me put it to your level.

He waves a hand, and a hulking pit fiend, which had been soaring towards them, vanishes into white powder.

Highemperor: If there is too much war-

Ares: Too much? No such thing!

Highemperor: If there is too much war, everything will be destroyed, and there will be no one left to fight against.

Ares stops in the middle of summoning another fireball. The bull-headed demon he was aiming at blinks, perplexed at its good fortune, and hightails it to a safer part of the battlefield.

Ares: I never thought of that before. If only there were a way to have endless war without losing the combatants.

Highemperor: Oh, don't worry. You'll solve that problem in the future.

Ares: The future? How do you know?

Highemperor: Because I was born thousands of years into the future, part of a league which finds its glorious beginning in an arena you create.

Ares: An Arena? Brilliant! I'll have to build one just as soon as--

At the moment, a three-meter tall demon lord appears out of nowhere, lashing out at Highemperor with a violet energy lance and denting Ares' skull with a mighty fist. Ares' memory of the last few seconds is forgotten until A.D. 1694, when he suddenly remembers and builds his Arena then and there, and thus, no time paradox is created.

But just then, Ares and Highemperor recover from the demon lord's blasts and turn to face him, for he is none other than Vashuko, one of Helebon's four lieutenants...

In the present-day cellar beneath the Magium, Hermes Trismegistus snaps his fingers, and the master mages jerk out of Ares' memories.

Taliesin: Hmm. It seems the current Highemperor and the Atlantean one might be one and the same.

Deep: Doesn't solve the problem of how to find him. Mustang, are you SURE he's dead?

Mustang: Yes.

Deep: Then why does my scrying keep showing the NeSheroes?

Faust: Honestly, Deep, for such a master mage, you don't know much about scrying.

Deep: Yeah, I barely scraped by on that course when I was attending the Arcane Academy.

Taliesin: If Highemp's dead, he may not be visible by scrying, but what it IS showing you is a clue as to how you need to proceed. Seek out the NeSheroes, and perhaps you'll find a clue.

Deep: Very well, then. What's the next item on the agenda?

Mustang: You all are familiar with the firemaster Matthew Tsukasa?

Faust: Yes, I'd sell my soul to the devil to be as powerful as he is...

He trails off as the others look at him, and belatedly realizes the irony of his statement.

Taliesin: We discussed him at a session a few years back, as I recall. We decided he might one day make a valuable addition to us masters of Magium.

Deep: He dropped out of sight, didn't he?

Mustang: Well, he's back now. And with vastly increased power.

Hermes Trismegistus: How much increased?

Mustang: Well, his Phoenix Gales are now ten times as large and potent, with less effort.

Deep: What?

Faust: That's impossible! What'd he do, sell his soul to the devil?

The other master mages stare at Faust.

Faust: What? Oh, right. I do seem to be stuck on that, don't I?

Taliesin: We'll have to keep an eye on young Tsukasa.

Hermes Trismegistus: MOre than that, I think. As leader of this council, I believe that we should introduce young Tsukasa to our little conclave here, and teach him wisdom in addition to power. Mustang, it's up to you to bring him here to the Magium.

Mustang Ford: Yes, sir.

Deep: Alright then. I'm looking for Highemperor, and Mustang's looking for Matthew Tsukasa. Any other business?

Hermes Trismegistus: There's more trouble in the seedy magical underbelly of the world again. A new set of rumors concerning a "perfect" lycanthrope.

Mustang: *rolls eyes* Not another one. Seems every few years we get another wave of those rumors.

Hermes Trismegistus: Yeah. Funny thing, though, this time the gossip isn't going on about weretigers and werebears - no, this time, they're saying it's a wereRAT.

The master mages laugh uproariously for several seconds.

Taliesin: *wiping a tear from his eye* Oh, that's classic!

Faust: Funniest thing I've heard in at least a century or two.

Deep: Alright, then, moving on. Next item of business. Faust, you wanted to bring something up?

Faust: Yes, I was concerned about Mustang, actually.

Mustang: Oh? What about?

Faust: Well, you sold your soul to the devil back in the 19th century, right?

Mustang: Well, yes, only for the sake of the story.

Faust: But then you made yourself a lich, giving you immortality and basically cheating ol' Jim of your soul. He can't be too happy about that. And trust me, I would know.

Mustang: Maybe, but I was still serving the plot, so he gave me a little leeway, being protector of the plotfractal and all that.

Faust: Yeah, but - Mustang, Jim hasn't been a protector since the end of page 50.

Mustang: ...crap.

Zip to the Great Granite Fortress of Canada, inside which Jim is sitting on his hellish throne.

Jim7: Why do I keep getting the feeling that I'm forgetting something?

Oh noes! Will the master mages find out that the rumors of a perfectly lycanthropic wererat are true? Will Dr. R. Deep uncover
Al Ciao's secret when he visits the NeSheroes? Will Jim remember that he has to claim Mustang's soul? Stay BAMBOOZLED!

Geb The Writer: "Stay bamboozled", huh? Trying to get in Cool Matty's good graces again?

Al Ciao The Writer: Well, he gave you a box of donuts a day for a year, so what could it hurt for me to get a little something?

Cool Matty The Writer comes in then. Al Ciao turns towards him expectantly.

CM The Writer: Al, look, the first time Geb paid homage to my jokes was a compliment. But now you're just kissing up.

Al Ciao The Writer: Er...

CM The Writer: No vacation for you this year!

Al Ciao The Writer: Aw...

Tracer The Writer: Wait, we get vacations?!

Geb The Writer scratches his head, perplexed.

Geb The Writer: But who would want to take a vacation from writing NeS?

Back at the HHH, CM was preparing to teleport the heroes to Cris B's Chikin Shack, when in a puff of smoke, Mustang reappears.

Mustang: I don't know why I keep going back there. It's always bad news.

CM, surprised at Mustang's arrival, trips over himself like a sprinter interrupted right before the start of a race.

CM: Holy-- could you be a LITTLE less horrible in your timing? I almost blew my concentration and landed us at who knows where!

Mustang: Yes yes, sorry about that. But I have more important things to concern myself with. Turns out the Magium wants to see you, CM. They're interested in your immense power.

CM: Immense? I didn't think it was that much...

Mustang: You're one of the strongest mages the Magium as a whole has seen in ages. However, you lack greatly in the intellectual side of the mages. They're concerned and wish to help you, if you're willing.

CM: Well about that, we were just about to go help MZZT with Dr. Gebiyl and Qhobeg, they're taking our Gamecube!

Mustang just stares at CM.

CM: What? That Gamecube is important!

Mustang: Don't you think your friends could handle it without you?

CM: But how are they supposed to get there?

Mustang: You know, before teleportation, there were other methods of travel. Most of us mages still cannot teleport to locations we haven't visited before.

Mimiru walks up to CM's side, and holds his arm.

Mimiru: We can handle ourselves, really. Go run off and do your mage thing. Maybe you'll learn something and you can teach me sometime.

CM sighed, gave Mimiru a peck on the cheek, and turned back to Mustang.

Mustang: Good, I was hoping you'd come with me. Now one last thing before we go... You're familiar with Jim7 and Hell, yes?

CM: We've been there, yeah.

Mustang: I'm glad to hear that. Let's go.

Mustang grabbed CM's arm, and in a puff of smoke, both disappeared, heading to the Magium.

Subaru: Why do you suppose Mustang asked about Jim7?

Mimiru: I don't know, but he seemed nervous. Anyway, we need to get my jet and head over to MZZT. Hamill, I don't suppose you have a computer around here that I could contact my jet and have it fly over, do you?

Mark Hamill: The computer? I turned that off. I prefer to let the force guide me.

Subaru: That doesn't make any sense... why couldn't you just use the force in combination with it?

Hamill: What? No, that couldn't possibly work!

Mimiru: Whatever! It's just switched off, right? So where is it?

Hamill: It's right o--

Hamill begins to point at the computer in the corner, but as he does so, the heroes witness Mister T bashing the PC to pieces.

Mister T: You fools ain't getting me on a plane! No way!

Mimiru: Oh for the love of... you weren't going in the first place! My jet isn't big enough!

Mister T: You sayin' I'm fat, woman?

Subaru: Perhaps we should find someplace with some cell phone signal and just call it in.

Mimiru: Yes, that. Anything to get us away from these idiots.

Subaru and Mimiru stormed out of the HHH in search of cellular coverage.

Verizon Guy: Heh, if only they'd let me continue my testing, then they would have had coverage! But no! Complain about my methods, say I'm annoying, and look where it gets you. You can't hear me, now!

RAM1: Was that whole bit about contacting the jet just to bring back the Verizon joke?

CM the Writer: No, it was a major plot point, they have to find transportation!

RAM2: Couldn't they just use the HHH's phone?

CM the Writer: Would YOU use a haunted phone?

RAM1: Uhm, yes?

CM the Writer: Shut up. I hate all of you.

RAM3: We know.

Back at the Magium, Mustang arrives with CM.

Taliesin: That was prompt work, Mustang.

Faust: Don't kid yourself, Taliesin. Mustang's just hoping to use him as a bodyguard should Jim7 appear.

CM: Wait, that's why you asked me?

Mustang: Okay we really don't have to bring that up again. Let's focus on CM, shall we?

CM: No let's focus on this! Focus on this!

Faust: We've recognized your power as a firemaster. You're possibly one of the strongest we've ever encountered, and you easily overpower many of us here.

Taliesin: However, we have many questions. For someone who has had such little true training as a mage, we're quite concerned as to... the source of your power.

Deep: I'll come right out and say it. Mages with such power in the past have typically met an unpleasant end. We don't wish to see that repeated here with you.

CM: Well, I draw my power from my inner self, I'm not sure how you would describe it. And it's grown over the years by training and extensive use of my power. I try to push my limits to expand my pool of power.

Hermes: Of course. But understand, that the pool from which you draw your power, it is like a muscle. As you train and exercise it, it grows stronger. However, muscles have limits. And as far as we can tell, your "muscle" should have reached its peak long ago.

Mustang: CM, what separates you from the rest of us mages is control and efficiency. None of us have the sort of pool of power to draw from that you have. But even now, a few of us could outlast you in a battle, if it were to come to it. And we certainly have a much larger selection of techniques to draw from.

Deep: There are many dangers from having such a large pool of power to draw from. It can be hard to contain, and even harder to control. You have managed to keep it held in for now, but if this continues, one day, your power is going to go out of control.

CM: So what would happen? Fireballs just start flying out of my fingertips at random?

Deep: No. What would happen is, at a time of a spell you cast, you would end up releasing all of your power at once. This can be deadly, not just for yourself but everyone around you.

CM: But you all are here to help me, right? Just need to learn more control, and I'll be the best mage you all have seen?

Hermes: It won't be that simple. You need to learn control, yes, but unlike the rest of us, you don't have the advantage of many calm, stress-free years of school training to learn. You'll need to take a far more rigorous method of training.

CM: And by rigorous, you mean dangerous.

Hermes nodded.

CM: Wonderful.

Taliesin: Don't fret, Tsukasa. You are among the finest of mages here. We won't let anything happen to you.

CM: Tsukasa?

Taliesin: That is your name, is it not?

CM sighed.

CM: It was an old name. I threw it away for Matthew a long time ago. It represented some darker times of my powers.

Taliesin: I see. Well, perhaps after this training, we shall be able to call you by your rightful name once again?

CM: Maybe.

Deep: Well, now that that is decided, Mustang, would you like to train him? You seem to know him much better than the rest of us.

Mustang: Wait, me? Oh no, we don't get along.

Faust leans over to Mustang and whispers.

Faust: You know, you'll be safe from Jim7 while you're training Tsukasa. Jim7 wouldn't dare come here.

Mustang's eyes lit up, and sighed.

Mustang: Alright, to the chambers, CM.

Will Mustang be able to teach CM control? Will Mimiru and Subaru find their way to MZZT in time? What does Dr. Gebiyl and Qhobeg have planned for the precious GameCube?

All this, or perhaps less, next time, on the NEVER-ENDING STORY THREAD SQUARED.

RAM1: This story sucks.

RAM2: Tell me about it. It's a bunch of self-serving crap for the writers.

RAM3: We should start our own story. It'd be so much better.

RAM1: Yeah, it'd have tons of action, and zombies, and no unnecessary plot! Nothing but adrenaline, page after page!

CM the Writer: I hate you all!

CM the Writer runs off the stage.

The Not-So-Punctual Bi-weekly Universal Mega Pwning NSP B.U.M.P.! OK, so maybe these need a new name, like "Update Whenever I Feel Like It" or something...

Currently at about 10-13% or 1/8th completed! Major landmark, woo! I should be picking up some speed as I go along, and I'll update whenever this thread drops off the 2 weeks new view (which I hope it doesn't again)!

The "Update Whenever I Feel Like It That Suspiciously Looks Like A B.U.M.P.!"

Currently at about 14% or 1/8th completed. Been surprisingly busy, so I only got the equivalent of a B.U.M.P. in my progress as well.

Meanwhile, (I'm not saying it this time. For reals, yo. ****s old.) back at the Dining Hall of Heroes (Formerly Cris B's Chikin Shack) Ford the Hero groans.

Ford: *Groaning* Won't someone stop that infernal B.U.M.P.ing! For cryin out loud, i've been injured for nearly a page! No one has even had the sense to make a M*A*S*H* joke!

Yeah....sorry about that. Thats because no one really cares. Martini?

Ford: Well, if it isn't evil reverse-Gebohq, and his counterpart Doctor...uh, evil reverse-Gebohq.

Dr. Gebiyl: Indeed!

*Huffing and puffing, Otter comes jogging around the corner.*

Otter: Villains!

Dr. Gebiyl: Hello.

*Screaming an incoherent war cry, Otter snatches an RPG off a nearby weapons rack, dives for cover and fires off a grende. However, not being trained in the device's operation he manages to miss everybody and blow a gaping hole in the wall of Cris B's.*

Cris B: Not the wall! I needed that!

Otter: How are you supposed to work these things anyway?

Hopper Johnson: Yarr, to battle it be!

MaybeChild: Why are the pirates still here?

MZZT: I dunno.

One-Eye Pete: Avast!

*The pirate crew draws their sabres and charges at the two bad guys.*

Dr. Gebiyl: To arms!

*Dr. G and Qhobeg unsheath their own blades and respond with thier own attack.*

Ford: So do you think we should get involved?

MZZT: I dunno.

Otter: I'm not really clear on how to use these 'swords'.

*Otter makes quotation marks in the air with his fingers. The new recruits and the rest of the gang all mill about, unwilling to get involved in the melee. In fact the only hero who seems concerned is Cris B, who is frantically running around the restaraunt trying to move furniture out of the fight's path.*

Cris B: Be careful!

Ford: Relax, you've got insurance.

Cris B: Not pirate insurance!

*Cris winces as the cash register sails through the front window.*

Hopper Johnson: Ahoy!

*Gaining the upper hand on Dr. Gebiyl, Hopper slices off the doctor's expensive hat.*

Dr. Gebiyl: Oh, whatever.

*Dr. Gebiyl discards his sword and pulls out an incendiary grenade which he hurls at the pirate. Hopper barely avoids the blast by diving behind the countertop but several booths aren't so lucky.*

Cris: Oh, the humanity!

*Close to tears, Cris starts yelling into his NeS Hero Decoder Watch.*

Cris: Send help! Send reinforcements!

Watch: Joe's Pizza, can I take your order?

Cris: Do something! Do anything!

*Unfortunately for Cris Joe's Pizza can't do anything about the raging battle, which is rapidly destroying his chicken shack.*

In the crumbling grandeur of Morchazima, Arkng Thand's earth-bound fortress, a modest contingent of NeSHeroes are party to a very peculiar challenge. The zombified Announcer - crudely stitched back together after having been blown apart by TLTE's bazooka several NeSEpisodes prior - rolls his head grotesquely in a boneless pivot, and extends a jarring arm gesture at the surrounds.

Announcer: Ladies and gentlemen, the contestants - from the cavernous depths of the history of the universe, a mysterious immortal with a knowledge base that spans the breadth and depth of time and space itself - the incumbent champion, ARKNG THAND!

Thand steps forward and adjusts the creases in his immaculate silver suit. The crowd - summoned out of thin air into makeshift vestibules and bleacher stands - erupts into rapturous applause.

Thand: A pleasure, as always.

He pulls out a pipe and lights it with an elongated match, puffing bright blue smoke into the musty air of the fortress.

Announcer: And the challenger - representing the NeSHeroes....

The NeSHeroes are huddled into a corner. TLTE, Al Ciao, Gebohq, Krig, Amal, Matthias, Howard and JMX01 all look at each other nervously.

Krig: Can Krig go axe funny old man yet? Or zombie? Zombie would do in pinch.

The NeScholars shake their heads.

Matthias: We're bound, unfortunately, by our own chivalric hero principles. The game will be almost impossible to win; however, we must assume that it is possible to defeat Arkng Thand in this one small area.

Al Ciao: How is that possible? He seems omnipotent in every way. There isn't a single time yet where he hasn't been at least three steps ahead.

Matthias: I can see how that might appear to you. Remember, however, that for all of his scholarly insight and wisdom, Thand can only predict how the NeS will ultimately turn out. He reads into the ends of characters and plotlines, and works backwards to divine his knowledge. The outcome of something like this - a relatively harmless verbal joust - is just as mystifying to him as it is to us.

Howard: ******* will be good, though. This is his domain.

JMX01: He doesn't strike me like a particularly funny person.

Howard: He doesn't have to be, boy. He just has to tell a good joke. It'll do all the work for him.

Gebohq: Alright, alright. Which one of us is going to tell our joke?

Silence.

Gebohq: Does anyone here actually know any jokes?

Krig: Krig once heard story about man from Nantucket. [Pause] Very sad. Unhappy ending. Not useful here.

Gebohq: Well, I suppose as long as one of our more amusing members gets selected, they can improvise something -

Announcer: As I was saying, representing the NeSHeroes, from the godless Siberian tundra, a scarred human wreckage and destined-to-be-Ultimate-Villain of the NeS, Codename: The Last True Evil!

The audience explosion of applause is lost on the NeSHeroes, who slowly turn to TLTE. His appearance is equivalent to a man who has just been informed that his wife has given birth to a pair of spark plugs.

TLTE: No. Not me. I can't do jokes.

Matthias: [Clapping him on the shoulder] It appears you don't have a choice, old boy -

TLTE elbows Matthias in the face, sending him flying. He rushes over to the Announcer.

TLTE: Don't make ME the champion! Make one of the other ones!

Announcer: Oh, I'm sorry, I can't seem to hear you through the set of ears YOU BLEW TO PIECES. Take your place, chuckles.

TLTE glares at him, then stands next to Arkng Thand, who looks at him mockingly.

Thand: What are you worried about, my boy? This should be a walk in the park. You are a hero, after all...aren't you?

He says it seriously, but his eyes are mocking. TLTE looks ahead at the phantom crowd, his jaw set.

TLTE: What happens if I win?

Announcer: Arkng Thand cannot personally intervene in your quest any more. The booby traps, personal defence systems et al. will all be deactivated.

Thand: I vow to take the sidelines in this matter. Loot and pillage away.

TLTE: And if I lose?

Thand: Then I take back my nephew.

Thand points a gnarled finger at Amal, who looks pleadingly at TLTE.

Thand: You saw fit to take him away from me. I had other purposes for the boy; purposes far more important than teaching him how to hold a sword and fail at existence. If you lose here and now, I shall take him back to shape as I see fit.

TLTE's fists clench.

TLTE: I won't see the boy in a cage anymore. You go first, old man...

The crowd falls silent instantly. The NeSHeroes take to the bleachers, watching intently. The zombie Announcer waves a hand at Thand to begin, accidentally losing three fingers in the process.

Announcer: Best humorous anecdote wins, Master Thand. I will be the judge.

Thand: Very well.

Thand takes one more puff of his pipe, places it delicately on the Announcer's desk, clears his throat and proceeds to tell the funniest joke in the universe.

An account of some priceless moments from Thand's younger years, it spans three eras of human history, is alternatively witty, self-deprecating and dryly hilarious, and contains moments of genius on par with the greatest artworks of the world. Several audience members actually die laughing. The NeSHeroes, although trying to be supportive, are themselves rolling around in the aisles.

Only TLTE does not laugh, feeling the immense pressure of following the most difficult first act in history.

Announcer: Oh, wow...ah heh. Heh. I'd be wiping tears out of my eyes if they hadn't glazed over with death-induced rheumatism. TLTE. Let's hear the response.

Thand takes a step back and falls into a freshly-materialised sofa.

Thand: They're all yours, Spymaster.

TLTE takes the centre-stage. He looks across at the Announcer.

TLTE: So...you judge who wins out of me and Thand? Not them?

Announcer: That's right. But I don't like your chances, pal. You did kill me, after all. You're not exactly playing to a supportive crowd here.

TLTE considers the logic of the game. A small hope flickers in the back of his brain; lateral thinking gives him a window of opportunity. He opens his arms and addresses the crowd.

TLTE: Comrades...I am afraid that I am not a comedian. Even if I were, Arkng Thand's masterful joke would make anything pale in comparison. And even if I could somehow trump it, the biased judge would rule against me. It is a dead man's hand, in gambling terms. I could never win. But...

He tilts his head upwards and winks at Amal. The young boy gasps, watching on intently.

TLTE: There is a saying, famous words of wisdom in my country - "Зако́н что ды́шло, куда́ повернёшь -- туда́ и вы́шло". This means - "the law is like a shaft of a cart, it points wherever you turn it to". You understand? No?

The audience scratches its collective head, mystified. Gebohq leans back, putting his hands over his eyes.

Al Ciao: What are you doing?

Gebohq: Trust me. I've known him long enough. This is going to be bad.

TLTE: This means, comrades, that every system has a loophole. Every game has a trick, a con. And after all, if we are to play at humour, which form of the art could possibly be better than -

The Announcer explodes in a fountain of zombified gore.

TLTE: - irony?

TLTE drops his bazooka and bows humbly. Coagulated blood rains over the audience, who shriek and run for cover. Amal beams at the display of violence, and he starts clapping. JMX01 nods approvingly. The other NeSHeroes are alternatively admiring and horrified at the trick.

TLTE turns to Thand, who plucks rotten intestines off of his face gingerly.

TLTE: With no Announcer, there can be no winner. The challenge ends in a draw, and we are free to go.

Thand stares at him for a moment, then smiles thinly.

Thand: You realise you will now face the full might of my defensive systems?

TLTE: We'll take our chances.

Thand: Very well. Enjoy your moment in the sun, Spymaster. It will not last.

Thand disappears, the gore on him splattering to the floor. TLTE gestures to the golden archway leading on to Arkng Thand's Armory, giving his team-mates the thumbs up.

TLTE: Funny stuff, no, comrades?

*Meanwhile at the smoldering wreckage of Cris B's Chicken Shack...*

Qhobeg: Give us the Nintendo and nobody gets hurt!

Cris B: What do you mean 'nobody gets hurt'? You already blew up my store!

*Indeed, Cris B's joint has been completely destroyed and is now little more than a large pile of debris. The two villains are huddled behind a collapsed section of wall while the pirates have taken cover in a large crater in what was once the kitchen.*

Dr. Gebiyl: Just hand it over!

Hopper Johnson: Nevarr!

One-Eye Pete: Yarr!

*Another volley of musket fire is sent in Dr. Geb's general direction.*

Qhobeg: Wait, I'm sitting on something funny...

*Qhobeg sticks an arm into the detritus underneath him and pulls out a slightly singed but nonetheless fully functional Nintendo Gamecube.*

Qhobeg: Look, we won.

Dr. Gebiyl: Success!

Qhobeg: Victory!

Dr. Gebiyl: And now to make our escape!

*The bad doctor presses a few buttons on his NeS Villain's Decoder Watch, which is substantially more useful than it's heroic counterpart. In this case Gebiyl uses it to remotely signal an evac dropship for immediate dustoff.*

Ford: Wow, they have a spaceship. We should get some of those.

*The dropship whooshes overhead. It slowly descends to the ground and the evil duo hurries aboard. As the dropship lifts off again it fires several futuristic plasma blasts into the ground, completely annihilating whatever may have remained of poor Cris B's fast-food restaurant. As Cris surveys the destruction that sad song from Platoon strikes up in the background. Finally Otter decides to speak up.*

Otter: Hey, I heard your chicken thing got broken. Sorry about that.

*A single tear drips down Cris' cheek.*

Otter: But you knew the risks when you entered the restaurant business.

*Cris reaches down and picks up a scorched menu detailing today's specials.*

Otter: Let's face it: this type of thing was probably bound to happen.

Cris B: Bound to happen? My restaurant was destroyed by our time-travelling pirate doubles and a pair of super-villains armed with advanced technology!

MZZT: He has a point. Statistically, that's just about the least likely outcome.

Ford: Especially the part about the pirates.

*The heroes look over at the pirate quartet who are celebrating their recent battle by pounding back the grog and singing sea-shanties. Otter puts an arm around Cris' shoulders.*

Otter: Well, maybe we can clean the place up. I'll call Janitor Bob. I think he has a broom or something.

Cris B: What, so I can reopen Cris B's Chicken Pile of Rubble? I don't think so.

Otter: That's good because I don't actually know his phone number.

Cris B: This is entirely your fault!

Otter: Mine? Look I'm sorry about that thing with the wall but I'm not responsible for pirates -

Cris B: No, all of you! You all let this happen! I welcomed you into my home treated you like family but when push comes to shove nobody could lend a hand!

Otter: Technically it's not your home -

Cris B: I thought you were my friends but you don't really care about me!

*Embarrassed, the heroes stare at the ground.*

Cris B: Well, goodbye! I quit the NeS Heroes!

Nsp: this comp hates me, so forgive the errors.

B.U.M.P.!

Mr Roboto: at last! My masterpiece is complete - The Machine That Goes Bump! Now he shall pay!

He breaks off, thinking for a moment.

Roboto: dj_dtm! Get in here!

RAM: wait - mr roboto? Dj_dtm? Who are these guys?

RAM #2: I think they're from pg 47 - members of the yakuza

RAM: I think I was asleep on pg 47

RAM #3: I don't think I'd been born yet...

Dj_dtm: yeah boss?

Roboto: I need a hero to give my villainous monologue to. Get one!

Dj_dtm: er - they're all busy on quests right now. You'll have to wait till they're thru. Although at the rate the writers are writing, that won't be for a while...

Roboto: drat! Well, you'll just have to do. Listen closely!

Dj_dtm: sure boss

Roboto: the mafia are our sworn enemies - especially Vinny. I loathe Vinny! So to destroy his ambition to end the NeS, I have created TMTGBump!

Dj_dtm: holy barnacle loaf batman! Boss I hate to break it to ya but vinny was killed pg 50...

Roboto: criminy! Well I'll just have to get rid of TMTGBump with a Lord of the Rings rip-off...

Dj_dtm: well we can count Gettle in as Bumpbearer - he's desperate for scenes these days. Oh, and also The Last True Evil The Boromir Rip-Off.

Roboto: I thought he died.

Dj_dtm: yes, but his agent is Zdrovsky the Russian Saint of Lost Characters

Roboto: ah...

Zip to writers realm.

Al Ciao the writer: er geb? You're okay with the destruction of a device that could maintain NeS forever?

Geb the writer: YES! TMTGBump would give the writers yet another excuse to not write!

TMTGBump: B.U.M.P.!!!

Cris B: from henceforth, I dedicate myself to the eradication of the NeSheroes!

Otter: huh. Well, join the club.

Maybe: yeah, we've already got a zillion enemies dedicated to our eradication.

Cris B slumps. Then he brightens up.

Cris B: I just need to find some dastardly minions! HEY PIRATES! How'd you like to loot and pillage in my name?

Hopper Johnson: yarr!

MZZT: not to nitpick, but weren't the pirates hired by dr evil to man the pirates of the caribbean ride in florida?

Maybe: but then why were they fighting against dr gebiyl, who also works for dr evil?

Everyone turns to look at the pirates.

One-eyed Pete: well, the dental benefitd were terrible, and look at us - we've got wooden teeth, we NEED dental --

Pirate #3 elbows him sharply.

One-eyed Pete: uh, I mean, yarr!

At that moment, mimiru and subaru parachute down into the ruins of the chikin shack from the jet flying past overhead.

Mimiru: Hi everyone! We're here to defend the gamecube!

Maybe: just a tad late, aren't you?

Mimiru: aw...

Subaru: mim - you and I were piloting that jet, right?

Mimiru: yeah?

Subaru: so who's piloting it now?

Mimiru: oh, shi--

At that moment, the jet crashes onto the ruins of the chikin shack of heroes in a great fireball.

In Thand's citadel on Morchazima, our heroes are walking along. It may not make a whole lot of sense, given all the traps infesting the place, but narrative convention creates story spaces such as this for interludes such as the following:

Geb: So does anyone know any good jokes?

JMX01: Actually, Thand's is a LITTLE hard to follow.

Geb: But he didn't actually tell it!

JMX01: Yes he did! You were there!

TLTE: I think Geb is sensitive to the nature of the story - I too noticed that the audience was never actually told the joke.

Geb: Yeah, so let's hear some jokes!

Howard: Walking through a trap-infested fortress may not be the best time--

Matthias: Ooh, I know one! Why did the bourgeois NeScholar flunk out of NeSU? Because he had no CLASS!

The others stare at him blankly.

Matthias: Bugger it. Someone else try.

Al Ciao: Okay - why did the ghost cross the road? To get to the Other Side.

Everyone rolls their eyes. Krig's eyes light up though.

Krig: Know why Krig cross road? Because KRIG SMASH!

This elicits no reaction, and Krig stares at his compatriots.

Krig: Why Krig's friends not laughing?

Amal: Er...

Krig's left eye begins to twitch. Seeing this, the hero-types hurriedly fake raucous laughter, and the Viking's twitch subsides.

Al Ciao: TLTE, I notice you don't seem to laugh anymore. At anything. Even Thand's joke didn't crack your face.

TLTE: There is no place for frivolity like that.

Al Ciao: Are you kidding?! This is the NeS! We're made for frivolity! Hilarity and zaniness is the only way I can please my writer! And maybe a sense of humor is exactly what Losien wants you to have!

TLTE: There may be some truth to that. But I cannot seem to find laughter in my soul.

Al Ciao: *whipping out a shickling stick* I'll help you find it.

TLTE: *eyeing the electrified feather* You wouldn't.

Al Ciao: Try me.

Quick as a flash, TLTE draws one of his semiautomatic pistols and levels it at Al.

TLTE: Don't even think about it, Al.

Al Ciao: You wouldn't.

TLTE: Try me.

Al Ciao: *chuckling weakly as he lowers the shickling stick* Ah. Cruel irony. We need to work on your sense of humor, friend.

TLTE smiles briefly as he holsters his pistol.

TLTE: At least it's there.

Al Ciao: Hmph. If I were powerplaying, I could tell a joke funnier than Thand's.

For a moment, there is dead silence. Then all the hero-types burst into paroxysms of laughter. Even TLTE! Al Ciao stares at them.

Al Ciao: What?

(NSN: A very special Al Ciao/Gebohq collaboration!)

At the moment, all the actor-characters are milling aimlessly about on stage, waiting for the writers to hand them their new scripts. Speaking of the writers, let's check in on them.

The Massassi writers' office is dim and full of cobwebs. A Canadian tumbleweed rolls by despite the absence of any breeze. It's not unusual for writers to take impromptu vacations, but they haven't before done it all at once. There is only one occupied cubicle, and in it, Al Ciao the Writer stares disconsolately at his computer screen.

A side office door opens and closes, briefly illuminating the cubicles as Geb the Writer steps in.

Geb the writer: Hey, Al, you're the only writer left these days -- why aren't you posting?

Al Ciao the writer: My internet connection's been on the blink. I tried tech support, but even a diseased, constipated, epileptic, schizophrenic ape would've been more help!

Sam (the diseased, constipated, epileptic, schizophrenic ape): Hey!

Geb the writer: Um...we don't actually have tech support.

Al Ciao the writer: Well, that explains why the guy kept asking me what I wanted on my pizza...

Geb the writer: You didn't ever consider, y'know, using one of the other computers in here?

A light seems to dawn in Al Ciao the Writer's eyes.

Al Ciao the writer: Crap! All that wasted time!

Geb the writer: Well, let's make up for it by collaborating on a post.

Al Ciao the writer: That's a great idea! We'll put Abbott and Costello to shame!

Random Audience Member (aka RAM) #325: You'll put someone to shame, all right. Probably yourselves.

Geb the writer: It's odd, but I suddenly have a weird sensation, like we're meeting for the first time...

Al Ciao the writer: Don't be ridiculous. We've worked in this office for nearly ten years! You have the strangest fancies sometimes...

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

Last we left our (more competant) heroes, back at the (now formerly-standing) Dining Hall of heroes, they had a plane crash-land on top of them. And--

RAM #1337: --they escaped in the nick of time through a plot-hole, right? Or Mister T. swoops in and saves them from certain doom?

Actually, they died.

RAM #1337: ...oh.

Yup. They have booked a one-way ticket to Hell.

RAM #1337: Canada?

Only the ninth circle for our best.

Maybechild: I think there's been some mistake here. I don't belong wit these others. I worked for Greenpeace after all!

Demon #73516662: You plagerized your hero name from a Monkees song.

Maybe: I don't know what you're talking about...

Demon #73516662: Alright, you all are to follow me. Apparently, Mr. Seven wants to see you personally.

Cris B.: Well, this puts a dent in my plans of revenge.

Otter: Wait!

Demon #73516662: Er...yes?

Otter: Why am I here?

Demon #73516662: You mean, other than the fact that you're a lush and a womanizer?

Otter: Oh.

Demon #73516662: Anyone else?

Voodoosnowflakes: Yeah, why am I--

Demon #73516662: Guilt by association.

Sam Reyom (a.k.a. Recruit #1): But what about--

Demon #73516662: Guilt. By. Association.

Ford: On the bright side, I'm no longer injured or in constant pain.

Demon #73516662: You will be. You will be...

The Mega-ZZTer: Wait, now I know why you look familiar! The pointy ears, the short green stature -- you're Yoda!

Demon #73516662: Yeah, about that. I ate some yodafication cheese.

Sem: Tell me about it. SOOO annoying. Wears off after a while though. A few posts at most.

Demon #73516662: You forget, the concept of time is weird in hell. I've been yodafied since 1999, best as I can figure anyway. Ah, here we are.

They have arrived at an office door with the name JIM SEVEN written in blood. At the yodafied demon's touch, the door swings open, and the heroes, pirates, and recruits are all ushered in.

Jim Seven: What is it?

Demon #73516662: You said you wanted to see these souls immediately after they died, sir.

Jim: Hmm? Oh, yes. Go away now.

Confused, the group of heroes, etc. begin walking back out.

Jim: Not you all! Demon #73516662! Idiots...

Demon #73516662: Yes, sir.

The demon leaves.

Jim: Right then. Welcome to Hell. Abandon all hope, yadda, yadda, you know the drill. We'll deal with the official paperwork later. Now that you all are my subjects, I'm sending you all to Disney World!

Otter: Woohoo!

Jim: To fight my war against Dr. Evil and his Disney empire.

Otter: Aww.

Maybe: Why us? Why do you personally need us to do this?

Jim: Er, well, I, that is...

Maybe: Yes?

Jim: I...*mumble mumble*

Maybe: Speak up!

Jim: I WANTED A CAMEO, ALRIGHT?!

Nelson: Ha-ha!

As one, the Devil and the hero-crowd turn to look at Nelson of Simpsons fame.

Sem: Where did he come from?

Nelson: Look, Jim's not the only one who wanted a cameo.

Nelson saunters off.

Mimiru: Don't you already have a big battle going on down there? How are we supposed to get there in time to do any good?

Jim: Aha! So glad you asked. MZZT is going to build a new Thingy to teleport you there instantly!

Otter: But the Thingy hurts like the craziness!

Jim: *evil grin* I know.

MZZT: Actually, we could fly to Flordia in the time it'd take to build a new Thingy.. So how does this save us any time?

Jim: Aha! So glad you asked. The answer is -- er, well, I don't know the answer. Drat it all.

Otter: Well the concept of time is weird in hell, and he's got to torture us somehow to boot.

Jim: Right! Yes. What he said.

Subaru: Thanks a lot, Otter.

Jim: So what are you waiting for? Get to it! Chop-chop!

Thirty nine days, six hours, six minutes and six seconds later (or about a commercial break's time in non-Hell time), The Mega-ZZTer finishes construction of the Thingy^-1

MZZT: Thanks for not offering any help, guys. -_-

Cris B: I offered! And then you insulted me!

MZZT: Details, details.

Jim: Right then, sod off.

Maybe: Don't we get any sort of weapons? Equipment? Provisions--

Jim Seven shoves Maybe through the Thingy^-1.

Maybe: YYEEEEAAAARRGH!

Jim: Don't make me shove the rest of you too, now.

Reluctantly, the rest of the crew follows suit, screaming in agony as they teleport to Disneyworld...

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

Meanwhile (NeS count: first one in person!), at Thand's island fortress...

Al Ciao: ...so then he said, I was just trying to get ahead!

He doubles up in laughter as the other heroes stare blankly at him.

TLTE: Y'know, that might've been funny if we'd heard the beginning of the joke.

Al: But you did! I just said--

Howard: You said it while the previous scene was going on, so we essentially didn't hear it.

Al: Oh. In that case, this guy is looking to buy a shrunken head--

Everyone else: SHUT UP!

Geb: In any case, we did the jokes last post. 'nuff said.

Amal: Let's get on to the treasury! Lead on, Mr. Geb!

A voice floats out of the shadows behind them.

Voice: He will not be the one to lead you.

Our heroes turn to see Antestarr, as well as Losien and Nyneve.

Krig: Loh-see! Watch Krig flex!

Losien: Hello, Kriggy-pie!

She smooches him on the surely-non-hygienic helmet. it should be noted that Losien is the only one Krig will allow to call him Kriggy-pie--

Krig: Hey! Funny invisible man can't call Krig Kriggy-pie! KRIG SMASH!

No, wait! I didn't mean to--AAAAIIIIEEEE!!!

Antestarr: So while krig is busy playing with the Narrator, we can take this time to swap main protagonists.

Al: With yourself, I presume?

Ante: No, with Losien.

Losien: Uh...hope you don't mind, Geb.

Geb: You're not going to kill me to do this, are you?

Losien: No! Of course not!

Nyneve: I will...

Geb: What was that?

Nyneve: Nothing.

Geb: Usually, mumbling means something far worse than nothing... but I'm sure this is the exception!

Nyneve: Right, of course...

TLTE: I don't think that's wise, Geb.

Al: Yeah, you need to be the main character for the good of the NeS!

Geb: I'm sure my sister will be great at it! I believe in her!

A heartfelt tear runs down Losien's face.

Los: Thank you. That really means a lot.

Geb: Of course, sis! Besides, what's the point in being a main character other than being the center of attention for every blood-thirsty villain to try and chop off your head...

Los: Yeah...

Geb: ...for pitting yourself against traps certain to skewer your insides...

Los: Uh...

Geb: ...and let's not even get into Forms X-312 through X-471--

Los: We get the point, Geb! So anyway...what do I do now, exactly?

Ante: You could start by leading the way, Fearless Leader Losien.

Los: Right, let's go adventuring!

Losien waves the others towards her as she heads for the treasury.

Rachel: Wow, she actually knows where she's going. That's more than what was going for Geb, and that can't go over well... This might be a good move after all.

With little complaint at the moment, most of the others easily follow Losien's lead. The Last True Evil, though, takes the opportunity to walk up beside her.

TLTE: Do you mind if I have a word with you, my love?

Los: Well, I suppose the main character needs a love interest.

TLTE: I... I think you'll be a great main character. I believe in you, too.

Los: Aw, thanks honey!

TLTE: So... I just finished watching our movie -- you know, From Russia With Love--

Los: Really? You must have been here since it came out. When'd you get the chance to watch it?

TLTE: Downtime between posts, on my SpyPhone.

Los: ...SpyPhone?

TLTE: The KGB's iPhone knockoff. Anyway, the scene where we snog in the park--

Losien giggles.

TLTE: --well, it just got me thinking how special we are to each other--

Losien giggles again.

TLTE: I'm trying to make a serious statement of affection here...

Los: Shut up and kiss me.

The following kiss is so steamy that we had to censor it, but it's quickly interrupted by the other heroes politely clearing their throats and Nyneve rudely pulling them apart.

Nyneve: We don't have all day!

TLTE: Yes, we do. This is the NeS. A day can take a post, or several pages.

Nyneve: Then we don't have all post.

Los: She's right, TLTE. besides, I'm still mad at you. I... just figure you've been a good boy, I suppose.

The Last True Evil stands very confused. Al's eyes, meanwhile, have gone misty, his jaw slack, and his expression dreamy as he watches the two lovebirds.

Matthias: Wait a second! Losien, your inexplicable warming towards TLTE has been caused by Al's subconscious powerplaying!

Al: Uh... oops? I'll try to be more mindful in the future.

TLTE: Hey, comrade?

Al: Hmm?

The Last True Evil moves closer to Al's side, so that only he can hear him.

TLTE: Perhaps your powerplaying could have some... advantages after all...

The Last True Evil motions Al's attention to Losien with his eyes.

Al: TLTE!

TLTE: Just a thought, is all. We'll talk later, da?

The Last True Evil pats Al's shoulder in a firm, friendly manner.

Ante: We better move quick before M-- before Thand makes an appearance.

Rachel: I think we have more immediate concerns at the moment.

Rachel gestures behind them, where The Next True Evil stands.

TNTE: There can only be one!

Geb: Er... one what?

Losien: Geb, I'm the main character now -- it's my job to be spokesperson!

Geb: Oops, sorry sis!

Losien: No problem, bro. *turns to TNTE* Er... one what?

The Next True Evil shakes his head as if to shake some cobwebs out of his head. He reaches behind his head, where he removes a VHS tape of HIGHLANDER, pockets it, and pulls out a VHS tape of STAR TREK II: THE WRATH OF KHAN, which he shoves into the back of his head. He jitters momentarily.

TNTE: Revenge is a dish best served cold!

JMX01: I'll take care of this...

JMX01 steps forward, but in an instant, the evil Soviet-spawned genetically-modified clone of Gebohq rushes forward and, with seemingly superhuman strength, hurls JMX01 far into the sky.

Matthias: Holy cow!

TLTE: Pfft, so he's had some basic Soviet training. We had to hurl a Siberian tiger at least 100 meters every day or we didn't have breakfast.

Al: Guess you went hungry a lot, huh?

TLTE: I didn't have a taste for Siberian tiger.

TNTE: Let them eat static.

Oh noes! What will happen to our Siberian-tiger-averse heroes now? Will The Next True Evil drown them in obscure Trekkie trivia?

Well, at least he's not playing HIGHLANDER anymore...

(NSN: A very special Krig-Gebohq collaboration!)

Losien, Gebohq, Al Ciao, Krig the Viking, The Last True Evil, Antestarr, Rachel Pi, Nyneve, Howard, Matthias, and Amal stand in shock at the sight of this new VCR-and-eye-patch-adorned enemy before them.

Geb: Aw crap, not another clone of me!

TNTE: Yes, Gebohq! Or should I say, father! I am you, but as you were meant to be! The strength of twenty men flows through my viens! You will all kneel before me!

Al: Hey! Melodrama is my bag!

Losien: We will never kneel before Zod! I mean... whoever you are!

Geb: We might kneel if you asked nicely...

Losien: No we won't!

TNTE: I am called... The NEXT True Evil! Muahahaha!

TLTE: Oy. Let me guess -- you're from Russia.

TNTE: I am more Russian than you have ever been, traitor!

TLTE is speechless with apoplectic indignation.

TLTE: Pfphf.... yih... WHAT?

TNTE: I'm not seeing any kneeling! I said to kneel!

Rachel kneels.

Geb: What are you doing? Quit it!

Rachel: I live to serve, my master!

TLTE: THAT'S IT! WE MUST FIGHT TO THE DEATH!

TNTE: Dissapointing. I was hoping you would kneel. Oh well. ATTACK!!!

Rachel jumps up and starts punching Geb in the face.

Geb: AAugh! Hey! I don't think he was talking to you!

Just then, from behind some bushes, a massive flock of Siberian Flying Monkeys leaps into the air and swoops toward our Heroes! Oh no!

Antestarr: Losien! Remember, you're the main character now! It's up to you to lead us!

Losien: Right! TLTE! Al Ciao! Take the sixteen on the right! Antestarr! Nyneve! Take the ten on the left! Geb! Run away! Krig! ...Where's Krig?

Zip-pan to Krig, nearby, chasing a small rabble of butterflies, his mouth open with a child-like grin of joy.

Krig: Ha-ha! Krig like pretty flyer thingies!

Losien: Krig! Bad man wants to hurt pretty butterflies!

Krig: WHAT?! KRIG SMASH TO TINY PIECES!!!

Chaos ensues. The flying monkeys descend upon our heroes, and everything become an incomprehensible shaky-cam blur. You can tell the monkeys are Siberian because they're all wearing furry little Russian hats. And also...

Al Ciao: Ow! Something hit me! The monkeys are throwing something!

Antestarr: Its -- it's frozen Siberian Flying Monkey feces!

Amal: Ow! My eye!

Matthias: His eye! TNTE's eye-patch! He only has one eye! Exploit his two-dimensional sight!

Losien kicks her leg high, her heel soaring square towards TNTE's face. With one hand, he flicks his eye-patch up, and with the other, grabs her ankle. She sees his other, perfectly good eye, moments before he hurls her through Krig the Viking and into a wall.

TNTE: He is intelligent, but not experienced. His pattern indicates two-dimensional thinking.

Matthias slumps back to the wayside with Howard as observer. The Next True Evil approaches Losien's prone body, bearing a wicked grin as he aims to crush her head with his boot. Losien's eyes flash open, though, as do her hands as they grab his foot and pushes it away, sending The Next True Evil falling to the ground.

TNTE: Ah... not so wounded as we were led to believe. So much the better!

The Next True Evil stands back up and spits at Losien's foot.

TNTE: Are you game for a rematch?

Before Losien can respond, however, Krig the Viking leaps on top of him and attempts to show him the finer points of axing properly. Several VHS tapes fly out of his overcoat, one of which Losien grabs. She glances at the VCR embedded in the back of The Next True Evil's skull while he is preoccupied, then shuffles through the VHS tapes she now holds.

Krig: GRAR!

TNTE: GHAH!

With all the finesse she can afford, she ejects the current tape from The Next True Evil's head. As he manages to throw Krig away from himself in a convulsion, she inserts one of the others she had in its place. Al Ciao, The Last True Evil, Antestarr and Nyneve are about to press their full attention on him as they finish fighting off the last of the flying monkeys.

Losien: Wait!

They hold their positions as The Next True Evil shudders once more.

Losien: I think he might be--

TNTE: Quiet, woman, before I get angry, because when I get angry even flies don't dare to fly!

Losien: Eh, good enough.

TLTE: What did you do to him?

Losien: I stuck a copy of Fiddler on the Roof in him. Figure he'd be a little less violent with a good musical stuck in his head.

TNTE: How do we keep our balance? That I can tell you in one word:TRADITION!

TLTE stops, a single tear in his eye.

TLTE: As a child... I watched that movie many times...

TNTE: Without our traditons, life would be as shaky as...as...as a fiddler on the roof!

TLTE: I... *ahem*... er... Good thinking, Losien!

TLTE quickly turns away, and kills a stray flying monkey to cover up his emotional vulnerability.

Antestarr: Well... that was surprisingly easy! Good main character-ing, Losien!

Losien: Oh, I don't know, I don't think I'm as good as my brother Geb... Geb? Where's Geb?

TLTE (smirking): Last I saw him, he was still being beaten up by his ex-girlfriend.

Just then, Geb and Rachel walk out from behind some bushes, all scratched up and dishevelled.

Losien: Oh, good, you made up!

Al Ciao: ...or made out!

Geb: Uh...

Rachel: Um....

Krig: Krig regain consciousness! What Krig miss?

Has The Next True Evil truly been defeated? Are Gebohq and Rachel an item now again? Will Krig ever fulfill his lifelong dream of eating a butterfly? Answer: Yes, No, and Maybe, not in that order and possibly with one or two left out and one used two or three times!

In a special room designed for magic combat training (in other words, really expensive and ornate), Mustang brings Cool Matty to the center.

Mustang: Our first step is to teach you control. Control is broken into two categories in magic: accuracy and efficiency. We'll start with efficiency.

Mustang conjured up some smoky targets in front of them.

Mustang: These targets contain a typical defensive ability of your average foe. You must use your magic spells to take them out, but only doing so with as little power as you can.

CM nodded, and attempted to use a simple flame attack with as little power as possible. A small flame popped out, hitting the target, and engulfing it.

Mustang: Good, you know exactly the amount of power needed to take out a target. That simplifies things somewhat. Unfortunately though, you still wasted far too much power to create it.

Mustang: Magic spells have two costs, the cost of using the spell, which is waste, and the cost of the power of the spell. Your power is fine, your waste is enormous. Watch this, and pay careful attention to my power as I do so.

Mustang conjured up a similar flame spell to CM's, and ignited the target, just as CM had.

CM: I barely felt you do anything!

Mustang: Exactly. Such a spell is extremely basic, there is no reason to use so much power simply to cast it.

CM: How do I control the waste?

Mustang: There are two ways of learning that. One is through lots of practice, performing the spell over and over for weeks on end.

CM: Sounds difficult... and I don't think I have that sort of free time.

Mustang: The other is... dangerous.

Just then, a magic intern came running in with a note, handing it to Mustang.

Mustang: Thank you.

He read it to himself, looked at CM, and looked back at the note, before crumpling it and forcing it into his pocket.

Mustang: Looks like you'll be doing the other method, you really don't have that sort of free time.

CM: Did something happen?

Mustang: I'll tell you when we're done. It's of the upmost importance that we finish your training here.

Mustang: The other method is to drain you of nearly all the power you have. We will leave you with only just enough power to perform one waste-less, perfect flame attack.

Mustang: As I'm sure you're aware, running out of magic is extremely dangerous, and this will bring you to the brink of that. If you use more power than you have, you begin to draw off of your life essence.

CM: Life essence? That's possible? What happens then?

Mustang: Your life essence is something everyone, magical or not, has. Your life essence is used up slowly as you grow older, and when you run out, well... that is when you die. Those with ability in magic can reduce the daily usage of their life essence; this is why many mages live for so long. But when you hear about immortality spells and life extending potions, those mythical things are attempting to refill a person's supply of life essence. Throughout history, there has only been one man ever capable of extending their life essence.

Mustang: Only he has the ability to restore that essence, though, so it is obvious that if you begin to use your life essence for power, you are cutting weeks, months, even years off of your life. The upside is that whatever spell you create with that life essence will be immensely strong. The real danger, however, is it is addictive. The power you receive from your life essence is invigorating, but there's no easy way to determine how much you have left. Many mages have lost their lives to misuse of this ability. You don't feel older, you don't feel the drain. Simply one day, without warning, you'll run out.

CM: Who was it that managed to refill their essence?

Mustang: You know of him. Arkng Thand. This is one of many reasons why he is so dangerous. We have no idea how he achieved it, simply that he has. And since that grants him the ability to use life essence for power, it means his magical ability is far greater than any of our own.

Mustang: Anyway, I've explained enough. You are needed elsewhere, and so we must hurry. Are you prepared for this challenge? It will hurt, as I'm sure you realize. Imagine the last time you ran low on power, how the headaches became migraines, and how it became difficult to concentrate on simply casting at all. But you must not pass out. You have to do this the first time. It's too risky to try again.

CM: I'm as ready as I'll ever be, I suppose.

Mustang: Good, then let's get started. Give me your hand.

CM placed his hand on Mustang's, which began to glow, as Mustang drew in all of CM's power.

What will happen with CM's training? What is CM needed for? Will he survive? Will anyone survive? Is there enough Advil in the world for such a migraine? STAY TOONED!