Main Sfstory Page     Previous Log     Next Log     Index for Logs 031-060

Sfstory Log 049

Subject:     Renegade Anarchists episode twelve
From:        talk hard -- so be it (34EPWQL at CMUVM)

Episode Twelve: "There's No Place Like Hell" by Gary W. Olson

     "So, tell me," Lenin said.  "How did you come to be on such a primitive
planet as Karma Chameleon II?"
     "We flew out of the Eye at that point, and had to land for fuel,"
173 said.  She gave a sharp glance at the box that held the William
Buckley AI, which sat quietly mumbling to itself.
     "The Eye?" Trotsky inquired.  "The Eye of what?"
     "The Hypernet," James Dean said.
     "El, what wele you doing *in* the Hypelnet?" Mao Tse-Tung inquired.
     Over the course of the next few hours, the anarchists related the
whole story to their newfound allies - if you have forgotten what that
story is, read the previous episodes.
     "You say Emma was one of the escapees from Hell?" Lenin asked.
     "Yes," Dean nodded, the image of the rebel without a cause.
     "Very...interesting," Lenin pondered.  "But no matter.  We will be
arriving on Satan's main flagship, and we need to plan our uprisings
immediately!  Everyone to the meeting room - you all may join us if you
like."  Except for some bewildered bridge officers, the anarchists and
their captives were alone on the bridge.
     "Excuse me," the Grand High Spatula asked.  "May we put our hands down?"
     "Go ahead," Jerriphrrt said.  "Just no sudden moves, okay?"
     "Who are you dweebs, anyway?" Shadebeam asked.
     "I," the Egg Beater said, "am the Omnipotent Egg Beater of the Chaotic
Bastion of Silliness, and this is the Grand High Spatula.  We preside over the
Celestial Body of Kitchen Appliances and Utensils, our ruling council.
     "Centuries ago, the CBS ruled the galaxy, through control of the
Hypernet, which allows us to access the present of any portion of the
galaxy we wished.  It was powered by the Cosmic Cuisinart, whose power
we accessed through the Eiffel Thing and the..."  The Egg Beater was
interrupted as the Grand Spatula slapped a hand over the Egg Beater's
mouth.  "Er, anyway.  The Eiffel Thing was stolen by Tarrfell t'Krodkzik
(may her name be cursed forever - amen), and we were without any means
of accessing the power of the Cosmic Cuisinart.
     "Recently, the home of the Cosmic Cuisinart, the sole satellite of
the third planet of the Sol System, which you quaintly refer to as 'the
Moon,' was assaulted by a powerful ship, which blasted away a significant
chunk of the planet.  Whether or not the Cuisinart was damaged we do not
know - without the Eiffel Thing to power the Hypernet, we had no easy
way of going to check.  But if it was damaged, we'll...we'll..."
     "You'll what?" Gham said languidly.
     "Come to think of it, I've forgotten," the Egg Beater said.  "Centuries
of inactivity will do that to a person.  Anyway, we contracted Satan T.
Lucifer Jones to find the Eiffel Thing, and set out after you in our
Toaster.  Unfortunately, we seem to be at your mercy at the moment, rather
than the other way around."
     "Hold on," Time Agent 173 said.  "Back up.  What contract did you make?"
     "We agreed that if Satan found the Eiffel Thing and returned it to us, we
would allow him free, unlimited use of the Hypernet for the rest of time.  Not
a bad deal, really, as we aren't really interested in ruling the galaxy
anymore.  It's grown a lot less silly, and frankly, it repulses us."
     "We've got to find a way to get out of Hell once we're on," 173
told James Dean pointedly.
     "No arguments here, lady," Dean said.  "I'm not keen on returning."
     "That's not what I meant," 173 said.  "If Satan gets his hands on
the Eiffel Thing, no place in this galaxy will be safe.  Time Central
won't listen to me - they think *I* have the thing, when Milagro Bekn'kse
and Hourus Jebillip really do.  We've got to get our hands on it first,
to save the galaxy!  You must help me!"
     "Can't we just find Barbados instead?" Jerriphrrt asked.
     "What about the tyrannical enslavement of the galaxy?" 173 replied.
     "It will be," James Dean said, "a pity."
     "I think her arguments have merit," Gham said.  "I don't understand
anything she says, but she makes sense."
     "Who cares about some dumb jewel thing?" Shadebeam asked.
     "So that's it, huh?" 173 said.  "I'm in this alone?"
     "Hey, we're with ya as far as getting out of hell," Dean said.  "Let's
worry about saving the galaxy after we've got that accomplished, okay?"
     "I suppose," 173 said, finally relaxing a bit.  "It's just that..."
     "Just what?" Jerriphrrt said.
     "The situation seems straightforward as we've presented it," 173
went on.  "Yet I feel the danger Satan presents is only one facet of this
puzzle."  Just then, the door opened, and Lenin rushed in.
     "Quickly, get into some guard uniforms and hustle down to the
disembarkation terminals," he said.  "We've arrived."
     "I don't *believe* it," J. Edgar Hoover ranted, pacing around the
brig of the PLS Tell-Tale Heart.  Sitting on a bunk, Edgar Allen Poe
watched him warily.  "Those bloody reds did it to me *again*!"
     There were some alarms in the hall.  Hoover stopped and listened.
     "You hear those?" Hoover said.  "Disembarkation sirens.  We've
docked on Satan's flagship, just as our orders specified before the commie
rebels took over our ship."  Poe sighed.
     "We've got to escape!" Hoover concluded.  "Warn Satan about the
approaching red menace!"
     "How do we do that?" Poe asked.  "These cells are escape-proof."
     "There's always a way," Hoover said.  "Listen..."
     On Karma Chameleon II, Ottsamaddawidu warriors and College Republicans
moped listlessly.  The only positive thing that had come out of the whole
afternoon was that the two tribes were no longer at war, and the
respective leaders, Ragnuruk and Nat Rephue, were not especially thrilled
with that.  All of this was about to change, however.
     "Sir!" a young warrior said, running up to Ragnuruk.
     "Speak, Benchen," Ragnaruk ordered.
     "We have found a large metal thing, similar to the 'ship' that the deity
and the heretics came down in." With this news, the tribes rushed to the site.
     "What is it?" Nat Rephue asked.  Had they been technologically
advanced enough, they would have recognized the shape as that of a giant
Toaster.  But they weren't, so they just gaped at it for a while.
     "There is an opening here!" Benchen noted.  He, Nat and Ragnaruk
boarded the Toaster and looked around.
     "The two silly looking ones that joined up with the heretics must have
come down in this ship," Nat said.  "They did not come in the deity's ship."
     "Shall we go after them?" Ragnuruk said.
     "You mean, attempt to control this thing?" Nat said.  "We are but
simple savages, Ragnuruk.  We'll likely crash the bloody thing."
     "Doesn't look that hard," Ragnuruk went on.  "Here, look at this
button."  He pushed a button.  Immediately, the engines sprang to life.
     "Hmmmm," said Nat.  "Why not?  If nothing, it will give us new
lands to conquer."  They selected the best warriors from their united
tribes, including Benchen, and pushed a button that looked like it wanted
to take the ship up.  In the next several hours, they retrieved the
warriors, who had been ejected from the ship through it's two large
docking portal slits, and tried again.
     The tribal members wept and waved goodbye as the oversized kitchen
appliance rose unsteadily through the trees, wobbling like a baby bird
on a three-day-bender, and eventually became a lurching speck in the sky.
     "Are you sure you know what you're doing?" Emma Goldman asked.
     "Trust me," Machiavelli said.  "I got us out, I can get us back in.
This program took me a century to research - it's the only path in and out
of the ship that is completely free of any weapons fire from Satan's
flagship.  Once we disembark, the auto-defense system will go into effect."
     "I dunno," Benjen said.  "Can one ship hold up against all that
Hell can throw against it?"
     "It can if they forget we're there," Machiavelli said.  "To do that,
we've got to download this program into the central computer."  He held
up a floppy disk that presumably contained said program.  "It'll create
so many emergencies around the ship they won't know which way they're going."
     "You certainly seem prepared," Goldman said, with a hint of suspicion.
     "Of course I am," Machiavelli said.  "I am prepared for *all* things.
That is why I survived for all those centuries at the top in Hell."
     "Second fron the top," Slithis corrected.  "Under Satan."  Machiavelli
refused to be baited however, and continued explaining his plan.
     "The cells of Satan's favorite prisoners are in the administrative
complex, which is the section of the ship where we'll be docking," he
said.  "This is where he keeps prisoners who have given him an especially
hard time.  If Dean and Jerriphrrt are in Hell, that's where they'll be."
You'll need me to lead you there - you'd become lost otherwise.  Besides,
if I stayed, you'd suspect I'd leave as soon as you were out of sight."
     "You know us like a book," Goldman said.  Machiavelli chuckled a bit.
     "Get on those instruments," he said.  "This requires precision timing."
     Hell loomed in the viewscreen - the largest ship any of them had
ever seen, a massive bulge of firepower, flame and general nastiness.  As
they accelerated on their approach, they saw the behemoth waking up.
     The Man With Two Names looked around the hut, looking for a way in.
There was no door, it seemed.  Experimentally, he tried knocking.  A
window-sized hole appeared in the hut, and a familiar face looked out.
     "Hello," she said.  "I'm Mary Elizabeth Mastrantonio.  And you are?"
     "Very happy," the Man said.  "Er, I mean, The Man With Two Names.
I just heard that the Swede had made it to the Author's Beach, and I
wanted to welcome him here.  Is he around?"
     "Well," Mary said.  "You could say he's a bit tied up at the moment."
The Man heard some groaning from the hut, coupled with promises that he'd
spell Mary's last name right next time.  The Man shuddered a bit, and bid
Mary adeiu.  She smiled and the hole in the hut disappeared again.
     "That was weird," he said, as he walked back to his spot.
     The sounds of alarms woke Satan T. Lucifer Jones from the light sleep
he had been sleeping on his desk.  He had been trying to figure out what
Machiavelli was planning from the notes of his he had found, but was
getting nowhere.
     "What's that infernal racket?" he growled.
     "It's an intruder alert," Susan B. Anthony said, rushing into the
room with a stack of paperwork.
     "Who's invading?" Satan asked.  "Dante?  Those fruity Valhallans again?"
     "A single ship," Susan said.  "Sign here.  And here.  And here."
Satan signed the forms authorizing the expenditure of firepower against
the attacking foes, countersigning against the insurance claims, counter-
countersigning against any destruction caused by anyone, and that was only
the first sheet.  Defending against invasions required a lot of paperwork.
     "Which ship?" Satan asked, although he already had an idea.
     "The so-called Red Emma," Susan said.  "The prototype ship."
     "Damnation!" Satan cursed.  "Fire all weapons!  I want that ship dead!"
     On Spyro Gyra III, Bennett Quark chuckled idly as he watched what
was going on in Hell.  The information was incomplete, but it seemed that
Satan was trying to blow a single ship out of the sky, and failing.
     "Ironic, is it not?" Bennett said to the figure in shadows behind him.
"The Prince of Darkness has built a ship that even he cannot destroy."
     "That has yet to be seen," the shadowy figure said.  "Come, my ally.
Goebbel's fleet will be here soon.  We have much to plan, if we are to control
the galaxy."  Bennett walked jauntily away from the computer banks with the
shadowy figure.


***** Received 18:59:51 on 04/28/91, Posting #    84 *****
Subject:     Indestructible Kid #8
From:        Eric the half-bee (PAUL at HARTFORD)

                            The Indestructible Kid
                                  Episode 8
                              Hell hath no fury
                    Having a good time, wish you were here
                                  Written by
                                  Bill Paul
                         The man with two first names

     The Indestructible Kid and Moose Lee walked cautiously up to the door of
the Burger Hell fast food emporium. After a few moments of angst-ridden soul
searching, they went inside. What they found was surprisingly normal. The
establishment seemed to resemble an ordinary fast food joint, except for that
fact that employees and the partons were all dead.
     Behind the counter, Nelson Rockafeller, Howard Hughes and J.P. Morgan
stood dressed in matching uniforms and grease-ridden paper hats. Together, they
waited on what seemed like an endless line of customers. The main reason that
the line seemed endless was that, well frankly it was endless. And to make
matters worse, they were all bent on paying for five dollars worth of food with
twenty dollar bills.
     "So, where do we get in line?" asked Lee.
     "I don't know. Let's ask someone." replied Bill.
     Bill proceeded to walk up to one of the less dangerous-looking patrons and
tapped her on the shoulder.
     "Excuse me." said Bill.
     "Yuh don't need to tuh excuse yuhself, big boy." said Mae West.
     "Ah, yes. Look, my friend and I really need to get some food, but we
don't have time to wait in line for the rest of eternity."
     "Well, if yuh really are in such a big hurry, you can uhlways cut to the
front. Nun of us really need tuh eat here: this is just Satan's way of
punishing us."
     "Oh, okay. Thanks a lot."
     "You two aren't from around here, are yuh?"
     "No, we're just passing though, actually."
     "Well, don't be strangers, boys."
     "Ah, sure. Yeah. Fine." said Lee.
     Bill and Lee then walked up to the counter and examined the menu. After a
few moments, Howard Hughes approached.
     "Greetings, can I take your order?"
     "Well, we're still trying to make up our minds, actually." said Bill.
     "What do you recoment?" said Lee.
     "Well, the ribs are especially good today."
     "Oh? How much are they?" asked Bill.
     "Two dollars. Three if you want meat on them."
     "We'll take them." said Bill. "With the meat, if you don't mind. And
something to drink."
     Surprisingly, Bill and Lee were served fairly quickly and found and empty
booth in a secluded corner of the establishment. Hughes was overjoyed that Bill
and Lee had exact change available. They hastily ate their food, as noone
wants to spend anymore time than neccessary in Burger Hell.
     "You think we'll have any trouble reaching Satan?" said Lee.
     "Most likely." replied Bill. "But I'm not going to let that stop me. I'm
going to find Liz one way or another."
     "You'll need more than a little determination, my friend." said a voice
from the next booth.
     "Oh no, not another one." said Lee.
     The pair watched as Daniel Webster stepped out of the booth and stood at
their table.
     "Satan won't give her up without a fight." said Webster. "And Satan always
fights dirty."
     "I don't suppose you'd care to help us out." said Bill with a smile.
     "Perhaps." said Webster. "But first, there's a few things about hell that
I think you should know. Such as exactly where it is."
     "And where exactly is it?" asked Lee.
     "In space." replied Webster. "Aboard the flagship of the 666th fleet of
Hell. The flagship itself is very large and has many different sectors."
     "A ship?!" exclaimed Bill. "All this is a ship?"
     "Of course. Haven't you noticed that there's no day or night here?"
     "Then that space port that I thought I saw..." began Bill.
     "Is actually a space dock." finished Webster.
     "Terrific." said Lee. "Not only are we in hell, but we're lost in space."
     "So if we could steal one of those ships from the space dock, we could
     "Sure. If Satan's army doesn't get to you first. The whole place is
crawling with soldiers looking for you. You might be able to evade them,
however. There seems to be some other events going on in hell that have
attracted Satan's attention. With the right kind of help, I think you could get
to Satan's office and rescue your friend."
     "Well? What are we waiting for?" said Bill. "Lead the way, Mr. Webster."
     Webster escorted Bill and Lee through back alleys and darkenned streets to
a seedy establishment somewhat closer to Satan's main offices called the Hell
Hilton. Webster asked them to take a seat in the lobby while he went to summon
some friends. A radio behind the manager's desk played hellishly eerie music.
After some minutes, the song ended and the disk jockey came on.
     "Thank you Jimi Hendrix for that 'live' performance. Coming up later on
WHEL, we'll be playing the latest from Jim Morrison, Kieth Moon, Buddy Holly,
Roy Orbison, Al Jolson and a new arrival, Stevie Ray Vaughn. Right now, it's
time to go to the phones and take some requests... hello, you're on the air!"
     "Hi. This is Wolfgang Motzart again. I was just wondering why you don't
play any classical music anymore--*click*"
     "Sorry about that, folks! That's the twelfth time he's called tonight.
Him and that Beethoven character just won't leave us alone. Although what
Beethoven would be doing listening to the radio I'll never know. Let's take
another caller..."
     "Ooh... Am I on the air...?"
     "Marylin! is that you?"
     "Ooh, yes! *giggle* I'm so glad I got through."
     "Good to hear from you again baby! What can I do for you this evening?"
     "I was just wondering... could you play Goodbye Norma Jean for me?"
     "Well, you've requested that soon a couple of times already, but hey: what
the hell, right?!"
     Bill and Lee listened as the selection began to play. Finally, Webster
returned with a motley crew of individuals in tow.
     "Gentlemen," said Wesbter, "I'd like you to meet a few aquaintances of
mine. From left to right, this is Ted Bundy, Vlad the Impaler, Attilla the Hun
and a few of his friends, Lee Harvey Oswald, General Robert E. Lee, Errol
Flynn, General George S. Patton, and General George Armstrong Custer."
     "Custer?" echoed Lee apprehensively. "Lee and Patton I can buy, but
     "Trust me." said Webster. "These men have a lot of backers here in hell.
Especially Lee, Patton and Attilla."
     "They're better than going it alone, Lee."
     "Yeah, I guess you're right."
     "Tell me," began Flynn, "do you intend on battling Satan un-armed?"
     "Well, I've never really needed weapons before." said Bill.
     "Here. Take this." said Wesbter as he handed Bill a pistol.
     "Say... this doesn't look like any gun I've ever seen before."
     "It's a hellfire pistol." explained Webster. "Be very carefull with it.
Even at it's lowest setting it can cause burns that will never heal."
     "Come on then!" said Attilla. "Battles are not won by idle chatter!"
     "Well, lead the way Webster." said Lee.
     "The south shall rise again!" cried Grant.
     "Oh knock it off." said Oswald as he cocked his rifle.
     Meanwhile, back in Satan's main office, Liz sat nervously as she watched
his un-holliness plod through a monumental stack of paperwork that his
secretary seemed to delight in suplying.
     "Damnation! Someday I'm going to have to come up with a better system to
take care of all this beaurocratic nonsense!"
     "I don't suppose you'd care to tell me what that's all for." said Liz.
     "I've got to deal with a bunch of renegades. People must be taught that
noone can escape me for long. Waitaminit!!! I just signed this!"
     "That's an extra copy for our records." said Susan B. Anthony as she
wheeled in yet another batch of papers.
     "Requistions for extra toilet paper!? Tell them to wait until after
they've captured those anarchists!! Tell me, has there been any news from
Napoleon or the others about this Kid?"
     "Not yet. There was a report that they were seen at a Burger Hell not too
long ago, but they left before anyone could get there. Apparently, he and his
friend were seen talking to... a certain Mr. Webster."
     "Oh, no!!! Not him! Quick! Double the guards in the area!! I want them all
blasted to... to... well, to *hell* the moment they set foot in the vicinity
of my office!"
     The Man With Two First Names edited his desk back into existance in his
little corner of the Author's Beach and sat back down to writing. He took a
moment to reflect on the unusual experience he had while visiting the Swede's
     "Hm. Maybe I had better hold off an creating that secretary like I had
planned. Looks like it could be more trouble than it's worth. Than again..."
     He then he glanced over at his now idle Superguy plot generator and sighed.
     "Well, enough sentimentality. I've still got to get this plot finished
before summer. I hope the dilithium crystals can stand the strain...!"
     The Man With Two First Names then edited his Superguy plot generator into
the shape of a passion fruit and placed it on his desk. Then he threw his
Sfstory plot generator into overdrive and resumed his writing.
     "Wow. This place looks much bigger when you get closer to it." said Bill
as he and his troupe apprached the main entrance to Satan's home office.
     "It gets even bigger when you get insode." said Flynn.
     "Wonderfull." said Moose Lee drawing his swords.
     The band of would-be rescuers quietly walked up to the main doors and were
about to open them, when a hatchway in one of them swung back and a strange
balding man in a doorman's outfit stuck his head out.
     "Ah, hi." said Bill. "We were wondering if you could possible let us in to
this building."
     "OOOOOoooooooh, reeeEEEaaaally!? Well... what possible reason could you
possible have to want to come in here."
     "We're here to see Satan." said Lee.
     "I see. But then, aren't we all!"
     "Look, I don't mean to be rude, but if you don't let us in here I'll be
forced to something nasty... with this!"
     Bill brought out the hellfire pistol that Webster had given him, set it to
the highest output level and pointed it in the doormans's face.
     "OOOOOOoooooooh! Touchy, aren't we?!"
     The doorman retreated and slammed the hatch. A second later, the two main
doors swung open and admitten them.
     "Well, that was easy enough." said Bill.
     "Don't kid yourself." said Webster. "This is just the tip of the iceberg."
     "Oh, did you have to mention ice?" said General Custer.
     The group advanced slowly into the lobby of the building which was
ominously dark, as one might expect. The walked on for a minute, hoping to find
more lighted area, or possibly an elevator, to no avail. Suddenly, and without
warning, the lights snapped on, revealing a horde of northern Civil War
soldiers mixed with the occaisional StormUndDrangTrooper led by General
Ulyssese S. Grant.
     "So, General Lee. I see you're still siding with rebels." snorted Grant.
     "I did a fair job of holding you at bay against overwhelming odds once
before, General."
     "The North triumphed once, it triumph again!" cried Grant.
Find out in the next episode, appearing only in... SFSTORY!

***** Received 00:35:50 on 05/03/91, Posting #    85 *****
Subject:     Indestrucible Kid #9
From:        Eric the half-bee (PAUL at HARTFORD)

                            The Indestructible Kid
                                  Episode 9
                         Damn yankees or War is hell
                                  Written by
                  Bill Paul    The man with two first names

     The Man With Two First Names perused his plot generator, meticulously
searching for any signs of a malfunction. After much effort, he put down his
magnifying glass and slumped into his chair.
     "I can't figure it out. It must be a bug in the works somewhere. I mean,
just look at all the mistakes in this last issue! There's a word missing in the
last line... General Grant's name is spelled wrong... maybe this thing is just
a lemon. I mean, my Superguy plot generator wasn't letter perfect either, but
this is ridiculous. Maybe I shouldn't have thrown it into overdrive like that.
I know! I'll whip up somebody to help me troubleshoot it!"
     The Man took a moment to look back through the files of his mind and
settled finally on a suitable assistant. In an instant, he edited Lt. Commander
Montgomery Scott into existance.
     "Mr. Scott, I've got a little job for you..."
     "Aye, that ya have, laddie. Ah haven't seen one of these Mark II's in
years. Ah'm surprised it's still runnin'!"
     "Really? Do you think you can keep it in working order for me?"
     "Well, ah don't rightly know. It's in pretty poor shape as it is now! All
of these modifications that have been done to it have put it under quita a
strain! Ah might me able ta keep it goin' fer another few episodes, but then
it'll have to be taken in for an overhaul."
     "Rats!" the Author said.
     "You called!?" said the Head Rat.
     "No! G'way!" cried the Author.
     The Man quickly edited the annoying horde of rodents off the Author's
Beach. With them gone, he turned his attention back to the generator.
     "Well, do your best Scotty. I guess I'll just have to make due until the
end of the term. Then I can bring this thing in for proper repairs. Let me know
if you need anything."
     "Well, I might need a few spare parts. You wouldn't happen to have another
one o' these lyin' about would you?"
     "Well, actually..." said The Man as he eyed the passion fruit on his desk.
     "I'll only need one or two things..."
     "No, sorry. I don't want to alter the other plot generator for...
sentimental reasons. I might also be able to use it again next term. You just
describe to me what you need and I'll just whomp it right up."
     "Well, suit yourself." said Scotty.
     It had been about 200 years since the American Civil War had been waged.
In 200 years, it has remained the bloodiest conflict ever fought on American
soil. And in 200 years, the Civil War soildiers who were currently battling the
Indestructible Kid and Moose Lee deep inside the flagship of the fleet of hell
still hadn't learned how to shoot straight. This was probably the main reason
that our heroes and their allies had not been blasted into little pieces.
Satan T. Lucifer Jones had toyed with the idea of sending them out to be
better trained but the thought of the paperwork that it would require quickly
changed his mind.
     "This can't be happening!" cried Lee as he unleashed a barage of throwing
stars against a group of advancing Civil War soldiers. "You said all you wanted
to do was rescue this one girl! You never mentioned anything about having to
fight the Civil War all over again--from the wrong side!"
     "Hey! What did you expect?" said Bill as he blasted a Muuuahahahan
trooper to ashes with the hellfire pistol that Daniel Webster had given him. "I
mean, this is hell after all! Besides: we aren't doing that badly."
     Errol Flynn bounded over The Indestructible Kid and leapt into a squad of
musket weilding souldiers with nothing but a rapier in hand. Surprisingly, he
did rather well against them. General Lee ordered Attilla and the Huns to take
out General Grant's front lines while Patton and Custer tried to sneak around
behind them. Lee Harvey Oswald provided cover fire from a convenient perch atop
a statue of Satan T. Lucifer Jones himself that sat in the lobby of the Hell
Hilton while Vlad the Impaler deterred anybody from climbing up to him in his
own inimtable fashion. Bill and Lee pressed forward in an attempt to deal with
the StormUndDrangTroopers and reach General Grant himself.
     "It's working!" cried Bill. "We're actually making headway!"
     "Great. Now what?!?" cried Lee.
     "We make a run for that elevator over there!" said Webster as he bashed a
Muuuahahahan trooper in the head. "We have to get to Satan's office in order to
find out what he's done with your friend."
     "Well, I hate to run out on the rest of our allies, but I think now would
be a good time to make a run for it." said Lee.
     "Right! You go call the elevator: I'll cover you!" said Webster.
     "They're where!?!?!?"
     "In the lobby. General Grant and his men are attempting to stop them now."
     Liz Anderson listened intently to the conversation between Satan T.
Lucifer Jones and Susan B. Anthony. A thought blossomed in her mind. Perhaps,
in the confusion, she could escape from Satan's office and meet Bill and Lee
part way. She carefully inched her way to the door, being carefull not to
attract Satan's attention.
     "Try and find out where the hell Napoleon and his men are! Get them back
here as soon as possible!"
     "You'll have to sign a set of forms rescinding the orders listed in the
last set of forms, then sign their compensation checks...
     "What compensation checks?!"
     "They have to be payed compensation for being sent off on a mission and
then being re-called."
     "Tell them they won't get paid at all if they don't capture the intruders!"
     "You can't do that. It's a union policy. If you withold their pay, they'll
send Jimmy Hoffa after you."
     "Oh, alright! Fine! Bring me the forms. But be quick about it!"
     Susan left the room to prepare the paperwork for Satan to sign. Satan
himself sat back down behind his desk and mumbled obscenities to himself. At
least, he thought, he could enjoy a moment of peace alone.
     "ALONE?!?!?!? ANTHONY!!!!! GET BACK IN HERE!!!!!"
     "What is it!?"
     "The girl! Where's the girl?!"
     "I thought she was in here with you."
     "Well she's gone now! Alert security! She must be found at once!"
     "You'll have to sign the other papers first..."
     *DING!* "Lee! Webster! The elevator's here!" urged the Indestructible Kid.
     "Well it's about time!" said Lee sheathing his swords.
     "Hurry! Get inside!" said Webster.
     Webster rushed into the elevator and Bill pressed the 'Door Close' button.
     "Well, that takes care of one problem." said Bill. "Now we've got another."
     "Like what?" asked Lee.
     "Just look at this damn panel! There must be hundreds of buttons here!
Just which floor are we supposed to go to?"
     "The 666th floor, naturally." said Wesbter.
     "Oh. Of course." said Bill. "I should have known."
     While Bill, Lee and Webster ascended the 666 floors to Satan's office, Liz
tried very hard not to be noticed as she searched for a means of escape. All
around her, the souls of the damned walked listlessly from office to office
mechanically carrying out their assigned tasks. She noticed that soooner ot
later, they all seemed to wind up at one room in particular, labeled 'Photocopy
Room', wherein they spent much of their time. She couldn't decide if this was a
form of punishment or just the way a corporation is run.
     "Excuse me, are you looking for something?"
     Liz turned quickly to see who had spoken.
     "Wha--?! Who--? Hey! I know you! You're Mary Tyler Moore!"
     "That's right. Who are you?"
     "Liz. Liz Anderson. What are you doing here? I didn't know you were dead."
     "I was killed over in the Superguy continuum. It's a long story. Satan has
me in charge of infomation gathering, along with my associate: Ted knight."
     Mary turned and pointed up the corridor to a white haired man walking
towards them with a stack of papers in his hand.
     "What are you doing out here, Mar! We've got work t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t...
wh-wh-wh-wh-who is that?" stuttered Knight.
     "Liz Anderson. Nice to meet you."
     "Do-do-do-do you know who that is?" continued Knight. "Satan's turning the
whole place upsode down trying to find her! If we're caught with her, he'll be
     "Satan's always furious." said Mary. "Personally, I don't care if he finds
her or not. I'm still mad at him for cutting back our salaries."
     "Ah, listen." said Liz. "If you could just show me the way out of here,
I'll just run along and leave you alone."
     "The main elevator is down this corridor to the right." said Moore. "But
it's guarded."
     "Great." fumed Liz. "What about the stairs?"
     "Down the hall, to the left." said Moore.
     "Are they guarded too?"
     "That seems a little odd."
     "We're on the 666th floor." Knight added.
     "Oh. Then I guess I had better get moving."
     Liz took off up the hall, followed by Moore and Knight. Actually, Moore
followed dragging Knight with her. Just as they reached the end of the corridor,
the inicator light above the elevator to their right lit up."
     "Hey! The elevator's here." said one of the guards, an American WWII
     "But ve vere not tolt to expect anyvone!" said the other, a German WWII
soldier. "Ve shoult inform ze Fur--I mean Satan at vonce!"
     "Let's find out who it is first." said the first guard. "We don't want
Satan to get mad at us if it's just a false alarm."
     Liz, Moore and Knight looked on quietly as the guards pointed their rifles
at the elevator doors. Slowly, the doors opened and a hail of throwing stars
flew out, striking the two guards in the chest.
     "Nice shootin', Lee!" exclaimed Bill. "But where do you keep getting all
of those stars from?"
     "It's a long story."
     "Bill?!" cried Liz. "Is that you?!"
     "In the flesh!"
     Liz ran forward and greeted both Bill and Lee with a hearty hug.
     "You don't know how happy I am to see a familiar face. Even yours, you...
you... you moose, you."
     "Thanks. I think." said Lee.
     "Alright." said Webster. "Enough for now! We have to get going before
Satan knows we're here!"
     "What's our next stop?" said Liz.
     "The space port." said Bill. "We're going to have to steal a ship and get
the hell out of here."
     "C'mon!" urged Webster. "Back in the elevator!"
     "Good luck!" said Moore. "I hope you make it."
     "Thank's Mary!" said Liz as the doors to the elevator closed.
     Webster pressed the "Lobby" button on the enormous panel and the group
began it's ride back down.
     "I didn't know Mary Tyler Moore was dead." said Lee.
     After a long while (hey: it's 666 floors!), the elevator arrived and the
doors parted. The group found itself staring down the barrels of several dozen
Ottsamaddawidui pulse rifles.
     "Victoire!!" cried Napoleon. "C'est magnifique."
     "Oops." said Bill.
Find out in the next episode, appearing only in... Sfstory!

***** Received 14:51:31 on 05/05/91, Posting #    86 *****
Subject:     Renegade Anarchists episode thirteen part the first
From:        bloodletting (34EPWQL at CMUVM)

Episode Thirteen: "To Hell..." by Gary W. Olson

     "Run!" James Dean exclaimed.  "They've spotted us!"  He, Jerriphrrt,
Time Agent 173, Shadebeam, Gham, the Omnipotent Eggbeater and the Grand
High Spatula broke into a run as a mix horde of Muuuahahahan StormUndDrang
Troopers, mongols, Warrior-Accountants from Stenax IV, Viet Cong and
demons, all wearing the uniforms of Hellish Internal Security, stormed
after them.
     "We're gonna be killed!" the Eggbeater wailed.
     "Ah, cut yer whinin', baldy," Shadebeam said.
     "There is an opening in the wall over there," Gham said.
     "It's an elevator!" Jerriphrrt exclaimed.  "Quick, get on it!"
     "No!" exclaimed James Dean.  "Never, EVER get on an elevator in--"
He was swept up in the general panic into the elevator.  "--Hell."
A large eye opened up and looked at them.
     "Name and id number," it said.
     "Just take us to floor 666," Dean said.  "Now!"
     "Name and id number!" it demanded.
     "Uh, er...William Tell, i.d. number 1812.666," Dean said.
     "What about them?" it asked, looking at the others.
     "Them too," Dean said.  "We're clones."
     "Which floor again?" it asked.
     "666," Dean said.
     "They're all the 666th floor," the eye said.  "Be specific."
     "The 666th 666th floor you encounter," Dean said, guessing wildly.
     "Okay, yer the boss," the eye said, and withdrew into the wall.
Promptly, everything went dark.
     "Oh, excuse me, Mr. Khomeni," J. Edgar Hoover said nicely.
     "What?" the former Ayatollah mumbled.  He shifted his turban and
sat up from where he had been napping.
     "Did you know my cellmate here is an American?"
     "Yes, I recognized him as the great...well, not Satan, but...damn,
now I'm confused.  Here, you'd better take the keys while I figure this out."
     As Hoover and Poe raced out of the ship, Poe thought to ask Hoover
just how the Hell he had known Khomeni would do that.
     "Machiavelli put him under hypnotherapy when he first arrived,"
Hoover said.  "Programmed that code phrase into his skull so that in
the event he was imprisoned, he could escape.  A genius, that man.  Wish
I had him on my side when I was leading the CIA."
     "Halt!" a Warrior-Accountant shouted.  "Who...oh, Mr. Hoover!"
     "Never mind the salutes, soldier," Hoover said.  "Just take us to
Mr. Jones at once."
     "Yes, sir!"
     "Are you sure this is the right way to go?" Slithis said.
     "It looks kinda creepy and evil," Benjen added.
     "It's Hell," Emma Goldman informed them.  "That's how it's supposed
to look."
     "This is my personal secret passageway to the inner offices of
Satan T. Lucifer Jones," Machiavelli said.  "I doubt even the big moldy
cheese himself knows about them.  Besides, this way we can avoid that
annoying doorman at the main enterance."
     "Good," Emma said.  "That guy always gave me the creeps."
     "If no one knows about this place," Slithis said.  "Who's that?"
The reptilian anthropomorphic was pointing towards a cloaked figure who
was sleeping on a makeshift cot in the section of the passageway in
front of them.  She appeared to be sleeping.
     "Odd," Machiavelli said.  "How the Hell did she get in here?"
     "It doesn't matter," Benjen said.  "Let's just rescue our friends
and get out of here!"
     "It does matter," Machiavelli said.  "If this vermin found my
superbly hidden tunnels, there's a good chance Satan knows about them
as well."
     "Watch who you're calling vermin, worm," the figure said.  They
looked at her again -- she was awake and pointing a hell-pistol at them.
     "Excuse me," Benjen said.  "But we're rather busy for a robbery at
this point.  We've got some friends to rescue, see.  Could you catch us
on the way back?"
     "I'm not--say, you look familiar," she said.
     "I do?" Benjen said, puzzled.
     "No, not you, you two," she said, pointing at Goldman and Machiavelli
"Say, you must be those anarchists who escaped from this place!"  Suddenl
the pistol was down and she was shaking Emma's confused hand.  "You're
already legends here," she said.  "Hasn't been this much of a big deal
about anything since Elvis did a tour here in 1977.  Why'dja come back?"
     "Some of our friends have been captured," Machiavelli explained.
"We are here to retrieve them."
     "Well, count me in!" she said.  "Any friend of yours is a friend of
     "We could use all the help we can get," Goldman said.  "What is
your name, anyway?"
     "Tarrfel," she said.  "Tarrfel t'Krodkzik."
     "Dead souls of Hell unite!" Karl Marx yelled, and a hundred thousand
oppressed souls screamed out their support.
     "Too long you have suffered the wrath of the Prince of Darkness!"
Lenin cried out.  "It is time to rise up against our oppressor and
overthrow him!"
     "Long live the revolution!" Trotsky exclaimed.
     The crowd surged forward and broke through the barrier that stood
to protect the horde of dead corporate executive officers that demons had
rounded up to hold off the legions while they tried to get a cohesive
army together.  Their forces were running all over the ship, responding
to dozens of false alarms, none of which could seemingly be tracked.
What's more, there was a ship in the 666th shuttle bay that seemed
inpenetrable, although the more advanced weapons had yet to be tried on
it.  All in all, it was a Hell of a day.
     No one saw Edgar Allen Poe and J. Edgar Hoover sneak in to a turbo
shaft at the edge of the large courtyard.  The shaft closed, and they
disappeared into the bowels of the ship.
     "No, I think this is the button that makes the pretty lights,"
Ragnaruk said, stabbing a red button.  Instantly, a lethal light lept
out of the Toaster and sliced a Bohemian battle cruiser in half.
     "Well, you're right about that," Nat Rephue said.  "But what does
this one do?"
     At that particular moment, the captain of the Bohemian armada and
the captain of the Pez armada that had been waging an epic, thunderous
battle until the Toaster had showed up and wasted half their fleets,
settled their differences and opened fire on the Toaster.  The Toaster
disappeared however, and the Bohemian and Pez armadas were totally
annihilated by each others lasers.
     "What does 'hyperspace' mean?" Benchen asked.  Ragnaruk shrugged.
     The Swede looked at the sleeping form of Mary Elizabeth Mastrantonio
and sighed.  Sometimes love could be painful.  He looked in the mirror
and noted the whip lashes weren't as noticible today.  Once again he
reminded himself not to misspell her name, edited a door back into
existence in his hut, and went back to work.
     "Hmmm," the Swede said.  "Looks like events are picking up.  I
wonder what I could do next semester to make it even more interesting."
Suddenly, and without warning, the notes from a lecture on parallel
processing and hypercubes caught his eye.  He re-read them and smiled
a wicked little smile, then started typing.


***** Received 16:54:56 on 05/05/91, Posting #    87 *****
Subject:     Renegade Anarchists episode thirteen part the second
From:        bloodletting (34EPWQL at CMUVM)


     The elevator opened up, and James Dean and co. spilled out, literally.
Eventually, they regained some consistency and reverted from liquid to
their original bodies.
     "Cat," Jerriphrrt said.  "That was painful."
     "I told you never to ride an elevator in Hell," Dean said. "This is why."
     "Has anyone seen my major organs?" the Omnipotent Eggbeater asked.
     "Never mind that," the Grand High Spatula said.  "Look where we are!"
     "What does the sign say?" Gham asked.
     "It says, 'Abandon All Hope ye who enter Here,'" Shadebeam told her.
     "This is it," Dean said.  "Satan's offices are on this floor, as
well as the prisons for his favorite prisoners."
     "Couldn't we do this some other way?" Jerriphrrt asked.  "Like long
     "We don't have a choice," Time Agent 173 said.  "This is the only
way through which we can get to the docking bays on the other side of
Hell, from where we can pick the fast ships.  Come on."  She opened the
door and was forced to step aside as a blaze of gunfire, spears, lasers,
phaser fire, rocks and hellfire blazed from down the corridor.
     "We have you pinned down now, Indestructible Kid!" a voice called.
"Surrender and we'll let you keep most of your internal organs!"
     "Who's the Indestructible Kid?" Jerriphrrt asked.
     "Aren't you the Indestructible Kid?" the voice asked.
     "No," James Dean said.  "None of us are.  Why, is he expected?"
     "Yeah," the voice said.  "Satan gave us specific orders to blast
the Indestructible Kid and Moose Lee to Hell if they set foot in the
vicinity of this office.  He even signed 'em, so they're official.  By
the way, are any of you Moose Lee?"
     "Nope," Shadebeam said.  "Never heard'a the dweeb."
     "Can we come through?" Dean asked.
     There was some conferring.  "Who are you guys?"
     "Renegade Anarchists and friends," Gham shouted.
     "Aren't you wanted by Satan too?" the voice asked.
     "Yes," Dean admitted.
     "Why should I let you in then?" the voice asked.
     "You weren't ordered not to, were you?" 173 asked.
     There was more conferring.  "No, we weren't.  Come on through."
James Dean, Jerriphrrt, Shadebeam, Gham, 173, the Eggbeater and the
Spatula walked past entrenchments of Hellish-looking weapons and soldiers
from the Roman Empire, the stone age and the Mexican war who looked
rather disappointed that they weren't the Indestructible Kid.
     Eventually, they left the group behind and came to a large, looming,
flaming door.
     "What do we do now?" 173 asked.
     "Dunno," Dean said.  "I've never been here.  Very few ever have.
Wish Machiavelli were here now.  He could guide us properly around here."
He shrugged and opened the door, and the group walked in to a surprisingly
normal outer office, with flaming ferns and some lava bubbling in the
water machine.  Susan B. Anthony looked up from packing a wheelbarrow
with paperwork and gasped.
     "You''re..." she said.
     "Expected," Satan T. Lucifer Jones said.  They looked at his infernal
majesty looking at them from the open doors to the inner office.  Standing
next to him were Edgar Allen Poe and J. Edgar Hoover, smiling viciously.
Satan's eyes glowed with the Hellish fury of triumph.  "Do come in." The outer
doors slammed behind them, and the ferns grew teeth and plucked the
weapons out of the anarchists hands and pushed them into the inner office.
     "So," Satan said.  "What brings you back to my humble abode?"
     "They've just been captured," Machiavelli hissed, looking out of
the grate into Satan's office.  "I don't understand, I thought they had
been captured already."
     "We can learn the real story later," Slithis said.  "Right now let's
rescue them!"
     "You can't just charge in there, mate," Tarrfel said.  "That's
Satan T. Lucifer Jones your dealin' with."
     "So?" Benjen said.  "He don't look that tough."
     "Who's the woman in the office with him?" Goldman asked.
     "His secretary, Susan B. Anthony," Machiavelli answered.
     "No, the other one," Goldman said.
     "Don't know," Machiavelli said.  "Haven't seen her before.  She
seems rather forlorn.  Must be a new arrival or something.  He doesn't
seem too concerned with her at the moment.  In fact, she appears to be
     "Well, what are we going to do?" Tarrfel asked.
     "Wait 'till he and the anarchists are gone," Machiavelli said.  "We
don't dare take on Satan directly.  Best to wait until they're locked up
in cells and he's gone for his evening meal."
     "But how will we break the locks?" Emma asked.  "They're Hellocks.
No one has been able to break them since Hell was a one-man scout ship!"
     "I've never met a lock that can't be broken," Tarrfel said.  "I'm
-- well, I used to be, centuries ago - the greatest thief in the galaxy.
Still am, I suppose - haven't seen anyone on this tub who can top me.
If those locks can be broken, I'm the one who can do it."
     "Very well, that's what we...ssshhhh!" Machiavelli hissed.  Satan
was looking at the grate intently.  Suddenly it came off it's hinges.
A hot wind, the sort that made the Santa Anna look like Santa Claus,
burst forth from behind them, and literally blew them into the office.
The grate welded itself back onto the wall.
     "Er, hi boss," Machiavelli said.  "Was just looking for you."
     "I'll bet you were," Satan said.  "I found this."  He pointed to
the manila envelope that had fallen out of his desk a couple episodes
ago.  "Details on the Eiffel Thing, engineering details, and a diagram
of a Cosmic Cuisinart of sorts."
     "Yes," Machiavelli said.  "We've known all along about your scheme
to ally yourselves with *them*."  He pointed to the Omnipotent Eggbeater
and the Grand High Spatula.  "We know you want to take control of the
Hypernet so you can dominate the galaxy!  Admit it!"
     "But--" Satan said, clearly flustered as the material in the
envelope was all in Machiavelli's handwriting.
     "Admit it!" Machiavelli said.
     "Stop it!" Satan exploded.  Susan B. Anthony swept up the pieces,
put them in the re-integrator, and pressed the button.  Satan T. Lucifer
Jones grumbled and stepped out.  Hoover sighed.
     "Don't make me do that again," he growled.  "I'm in charge here, and
I'll do the accusing.  Or in this case, the executing.  Step aside, Mr.
Eggbeater and Mr. Spatula.  Follow Ms. Anthony into the waiting room.
Since you are my business partners, it would be poor manners for me to
kill you.  The Omnipotent Egg Beater and Grand High Spatula thanked
Satan profusely, and walked out of the room with Susan.  "Go along with
them, Hoover, Poe.  You've earned a reprieve from your bumbling by helping
me capture them."  Hoover and Poe thanked Satan profusely and backed out
of the office.  The doors slammed shut after they left.
     "You've made me look like a fool," Satan growled.  "Stole the
prototype ship *which I designed myself*, tried to disrupt my latest
efforts to rule the galaxy, and have Hell in a state of higgledy-
piggledy.  Normally, I would interrogate you for useful information, but
since Goebbels should be retrieving the Eiffel Thing from the crooks who
have it any hour now, I shant bother."
     The anarchists huddled as Satan started growing, shedding his
three-piece suit.  His face turned into that of a black dragon, hideous
to behold, and flames shot up from all over the office.
     Slithis held Shadebeam protectively, while Machiavelli, Benjen,
James Dean, Emma Goldman, Tarrfel t'Krodkzik, Gham, Time Agent 173, and
Jerriphrrt generally trembled, and the lady in the chair slept.
     "Renegade Anarchists," the mighty black dragon roared.  "I pronounce
your sentence as...death!"  With a mighty arc, black, bloodstained claws
came flashing down.
     "We will accept and obey your orders," Goebbels said, a blank look
on his face.  "...Master."
     "Excellent," Bennett Quark said.  "He's the last of those on board
his armada, my friend.  We now have a vastly powerful army at our disposal."
     "That we do," the shadow figure said.  "With it, we should be able
to take the Eiffel Thing with little problem.  Where were Milagro Bekn'kse
and Hourus Jebillip last seen heading?"
     "The Sol System," Bennett said.  "They're heading towards Earth."
     "Earth," the figure said, an obvious distaste in his mouth.  "No
matter.  We will get there before Satan, and we will retrieve the Eiffel
Thing.  Then, we will retrieve the other thing, that is necessary for
the full utilization of the Cosmic Cuisinart and the Hypernet.  So swears
     Omegas stepped out of the shadows and tilted his head back for a
full, hearty, evil laugh.  "And they said I'd never work again."


***** Received 17:04:32 on 05/05/91, Posting #    88 *****
Subject:     Renegade Anarchists: epilogue
From:        bloodletting (34EPWQL at CMUVM)

     Slithis held Shadebeam protectively, while Machiavelli, Benjen,
James Dean, Emma Goldman, Tarrfel t'Krodkzik, Gham, Time Agent 173, and
Jerriphrrt generally trembled, and the lady in the chair slept.
     "Renegade Anarchists," the mighty black dragon roared.  "I pronounce
your sentence as...death!"  With a mighty arc, black, bloodstained claws
came flashing down.

     "Cut!" the Swede called out.  The flashing black claws stopped an inch
short of the Anarchists, and Satan reverted to his regular form.  Susan B.
Anthony came in and gave him a new three-piece suit.
     "Who are you?" Satan demanded.
     "I'm the Swede," the Swede said.  "The author of this storyline."
     "Well," Satan said.  "What do you want?"
     "Season's over," the Swede said.  "According to the contracts they
signed, they get a full summer's vacation, plus expenses."
     "But...but..." Satan said.  "I was about to kill them.  I was about
to win!"
     "And you *are* about to," the Swede assured him.  "I promise, as per
union regulations, when we return in the fall, we'll pick up right where
we left off."
     "What about these alarms and that revolution that's going on?"
     The alarms stopped.  "They won't resume until Fall as well.  Technically,
the action picks up a split-second later, but we've got to have this room
cleared for your scenes in the upcoming episodes of Indestructible Kid."
     "Well, okay," Satan said.  "See you here in the Fall."
     "Yup yup," the Swede said, walking off the set.  The anarchists followed.
     "You mean we have to go back to being a split-second from being killed
in the fall?" James Dean asked.
     "That's right."
     "Gosh, talk about lack of job security," Machiavelli said.
     "Where are you going for summer?" Shadebeam asked Slithis.
     "Barbados," Slithis said.  "Jerriphrrt and Benjen too.  Wanna come along?"
     "Sure!" Shadebeam said.  "How about it, Gham?"
     "What sort of world is Barbados?" Gham asked.
     "You'll see," Slithis promised.
     "What do you have planned for the summer, Swede?" Emma Goldman asked.
     "Have to get a job, an apartment, a modem, a terminal, and an account,
not necessarily in that order," the Swede said.  "But I should have all of
those by the fall."
     "Darn," Machiavelli said.  "Well, I figure I'm going to Earth to tour
the Pentagon and CIA buildings.  I'm told their rather amusing."
     "I've decided to go haunt some movie studios," Dean said.  "Make some
money on the side.  What about you, Emma?"
     "Oh, I dunno, maybe I'll blow up a few buildings," Emma said.
     "Well, I'll transport you all to your respective destinations," the
Swede.  "Have fun, and see you all in the fall."  Amid a chorus of goodbyes,
the anarchists disappeared.  The Swede turned to face *you*.  "Goodbye,
reader.  I hope you'll be back in the fall to read my little tales.  So
long, and may the forces of evil become confused on their way to your
doorstep!"  With that, the Swede disappeared.


***** Received 17:09:56 on 05/05/91, Posting #    89 *****
Subject:     Indestructible Kid #10
From:        Lord Worfin must live!!! (PAUL at HARTFORD)

The Indestructible Kid  Episode 11  The best laid plans  or
Deal with the Devil  Written by  Bill Paul  The man with two first names

     After a less than pleasuarble trip back up the elevator, Bill, Liz and
Moose Lee, found themselves face to face with the root of their problems. As
they stood in Satan T. Lucifer Jones' office, waiting for him to unleash an
unholy tyraid, Bill quietly leaned over to Liz and shoved something into her
hand.    "Hey!" she remarked.
     "Shh! Just take this and keep it handy." Bill whispered. "It's a hellfire
pistol. I think you might need it more than I will."
     Before she could reply, Jones got up from behind his desk and stood
before our hapless heroes.
     "So." he began , looking at Bill and Lee. "You thought that you could
just barge in here and make a mess out of my entire operation."
     "Well, yeah. That was the general idea." replied the Indestructible Kid.
     "SILENCE!!" Satan exploded.
     Fortunately, the explosion was not enough to hurt anyone and Satan was
able to pull himself together without any aid from Susan B. Anthony. Once
reconstructed, he continued.
     "Boy, people just don't know when to quit these days! First those
anarchists, now you fools. How's a guy supposesd to run a netherworld with
people like you running around?"
     "Well, have you tried restructuring your management system?" Bill asked.
     It was obvious that Satan was not in the mood to hear the Indestructible
Kid's little witicisms. Not so much by the fact that his blood presure
suddenly became high enough to run the turbines at Hoover Dam for a month, or
the fact that smoke was begining to pour out of every avaiable orrifice in his
body, but mostly because Bill found himself flying through the air on a
collision course with the window of Satan's office mere seconds after he had
shut his big mouth.
     "He knocked him through the window!" exclaimed Moose Lee. "But we're 666
floors up!"
     "Well, just think of it as a way to test just how indestructible he
really is." Satan sneered.
     Moose Lee, Liz and even Satan himself watched as Bill plunged the 666
stories to the ground. He soon disappeared from view. After many anxious
seconds, a muffled 'thud' heralded the end of his flight.
     "There's no way he could have survived that fall!" Satan laughed.
"Don't be so sure." Liz countered. "BILL! CAN YOU HEAR ME?! PLEASE ANSWER ME!"
     In truth, Liz didn't expect to hear a reply. It was, after all, a long
way down. But, just as they were all about to turn away, a faint voice floated
up from the surface.
     "I've fallen... and I can't get up."
     "WHAT?!?!" Satan exploded again.
     This time, Lee and Liz were ready. The explosion took everyone by
surprise, except them. Liz took out the hellfire pistol, Lee drew his Katanas
and and they both proceeded to wipe out the guards that were in the office
with them.
     "Quick!" yelled Lee. "Let's beat it before he gets himself together!"
     "Don't tell me we have to go for another ride in that elevator again."
     "'Fraid so. If we take the stairs, we'll be here forever."
     The two quickly bounded into the hallway and made a beeline for the
elevator. Fortunately for them, Satan had called off all of the guards once
they had all been captured so their path was clear. However, just before
reaching the elevator they passed a huge group of cubicles filled with people
busily working with adding machines.
     "I don't remember seeing this place before." Lee remarked. "I wonder what
they're all doing."
     "Maybe they're all Satan's accountants. I mean, hell's finances can't be
that simple."
     "Satan's accountants? Wait! That's it! Look at that insignia on the far
wall! It's just three letters: I.R.S. This must be where the Internal Revenue
Service is based!"
     "Somehow it figures."
    "Hey! As long as we're here, why don't we trash the place!" Lee suggested.
     "I'd rather not stick around. Maybe some other time."
     "Yeah right. C'mon: the elevator's right over there. Let's go."
     Meanwhile, back in Satan's office, Susan B. Anthony had returned with yet
another wheelbarrow full of paperwork only to find that her boss had gone to
pieces... again. She quickly helped him pull himself together.
     "That does it!" he cried. "I'm through playing around with this guy! I
want you to notify our 'secret weapon'. Tell him I've got a job for him."
     "Oh please, don't make me talk to him again.  It took me amost a week to
recover after that last time and all he did was pass me in he hall."
     "Then send someone else to do it!! Get that Ted Knight character to give
him the message. Or just send him a memo! I don't care what you do: just make
sure he understands that I want those three caught. And tell Napoleon to put
his soldiers back on alert!"
     "Of course you realize that you'll have to sign some more overtime
agreements to get the soldiers back on the job. Plus you'll have to make out a
pay voucher for the 'secret weapon' and..."
    "ALRIGHT!!! Just bring it all in here and I'll sign it!"
    "You'll have to sign the rest of this first." Anthony added pointing to
the wheelbarrow.
    "WHAT?! What's all that for?!"
    "Work orders and materials requisition forms to have that window fixed."
    "All that paperwork to fix one lousy window? What fool came up this
cocamamie system?!"
    "Well, now that you mention it..."
    "NEVER MIND! Just bring me those forms. And a large bottle of Pepto."
     By now, Liz and Moose Lee had been able to reach the ground floor and
dashed out of the building. Somehow, despite the fact that Elvis had weakened
the Indestructible Kid's invulnerability, he had managed to survive the fall
from the 666th floor. Even so, he was a little worse for wear. So too was the
pavement which had broken his fall.
     "Bill?' said Liz. "Are you alright?"
     "I just fell out of a building and you want to know if I'm alright? I
would have broken every bone in my body if they weren't unbreakable. Now would
you mind giving me a hand? First one who claps is dead!!"
  "I'll say this much for you," began Lee as he and Liz lifted Bill out of the
hole he had created in the ground, "you sure know how to make an impression."
     "Oh very funny. Say... how did you get away from Jones?"
     "Never mind that now." said Liz. "I don't suppose you two had figured out
an escape plan before you decided to rescue me."
     "Actually, we had planned to steal a ship from the space dock." said Lee.
"But we needed Webster's help for that and he's nowhere to be found."
     "We don't need his help." said Bill. "We know where the space dock is.
All we have to do is get there without being caught."
     "Easier said that done." remarked Lee.
     "I could help you."
     Startled, the three fugitives turned to find that they had been snuck up
on by yet another denizen of hell. Fortunately for them, it was not one of
Satan's troops.
     "I don't belive it!" Bill exclaimd. "I never thought we'd meet HIM here!"
     "Hey! What happened!"
     The Man With Two First Names stared in disbelief as an unplanned segue
appeared on his computer screen.
     "There isn't supposed to be a segue there! Scotty! What the heck are you
doing to my plot generator!!??"
     "Ahm doin' muh best to keep it goin', sah. She's bearly holdin' together
now! Ah wouldn't be surprised if the story's integrity begins to come apart."
     "Neither would the readers, I'm sure."
     "Are ya sure yuh don't want me to use the other generator for parts?"
     "Yes I'm sure! I'm going to need that thing in the fall. You'll just have
to make due."
     "Aye sah. Whutevah you say sah."
     Just then, the red phone on the Author's desk rang. It was an impetuous
sort of ring. The Author could tell almost immediately who was on the other
end. He answered it anyway.
     "What is it now Jones. Make it quick: I've got a story to finsh. What?
Your office is flooded with Jell-O? What flavor? Yes, I know it's a stupid
question. Listen: the Jello-O wasn't my idea--honest. I'm having a few
problems with my plot generator... Yeah, yeah. I'll see what I can do about
it. But I must warn you: I may not be able to fix it. Tell you what: how 'bout
if I get some scantilly clad women to wrestle _in_ the Jell-O? Paula Abdul and
Julia Roberts? Well, they might be a little busy but I'll give it whirl.
Right--I'll get right on it. And listen, I'm sorry about the mess. Really. Un-
hunh. Well, I'd say `same to you' but you're already there. 'Bye."
     Meanwhile, back in hell...
     "Why do I get the feeling that something unplanned just happened."
remarked the Indestructible Kid. His comrades seemed to echo his sentiment.
Nonetheless, before them stood what they hoped was their salvation.
     "It's Michael Landon!" Liz exclaimed. "But you're not dead!"
     "You people must have been here for a while." Landon exclaimed. "Anyway,
I can show you a route to the space dock that will let you avoid Jones'
troops. I have it on the highest authority that there's a small scout ship
there that's in for maintenance. It should be able to get you back to Earth
and it's unimportant enough that Satan won't bother to try and re-capture it."
     "Why should you want to help us?" Lee asked apprehensively.
     "Well, I spent most of my life trying to help people. I figure there's no
reason  why I should stop now."
     "Great!" said Bill. "C'mon guys: we're getting the hell out of here!"
     "Wait." said Liz. "Why don't you come back to Earth with us."
     "Because you come from the wrong Earth. Where I come from we don't have
people who can survive a fall from 666 floors up. Or people with antlers."
     "And what's wrong ith having antlers?" growled Lee.
     "Oh, nothing I'm sure. We shouldn't waste time here though. You have to
get to the space dock before Jones decided to have it guarded."
     Michael Landon led them carefully through the winding back streets of
hell. It was obvious that Satan T. Lucifer Jones hadn't wasted any time in
signing the overtime authorizations papers as there were soldiers at almost
every turn. Luckily, Landon seemed to be pretty well informed and was always
able to find a way around them.
     "How much longer is this going to take?' asked Liz.
     "We're more than halfway there." said Landon. "I'm sorry this is taking
so long, but the only way to avoid being seen is to take the senic route."
     "You call this senic?' Lee remarked.
    "Consider yourself lucky." Landon added. "This is the high rent district."
     Suddenly, and without cheese dip, a figure stepped from the shadows in
front of them. Well, he didn't so much step as he did slump. Liz's heart
pounded.  Bill's mind raced. Lee's muscles tensed. Landon's bladder weakened.
For only he recognized the figure as one of Satan's most fiendish weapons.
     "Wh-who is that?" stammered Lee.
   "It's Satan T. Lucifer Jones' secret weapon!" cried Landon. "Robert Smith!"
     "Robert Smith?" Bill said quizzically. "The lead singer of The Cure? But
he isn't dead!"
     "Oh, of course I am." Smith said dejectedly. "Why else would I be here?
The Awesome Force Author killed me while I was stuck on planet New Jersey.
And that was right after the Rad Author had me posessed by Gorgax. It's all so
depressing. I just wish they would leave me alone."
     "He's from Earth-Superguy!" Landon explained. "Satan had his scientists
give him the power to project his extreme depression into others! We have to
get out of here now or we'll be to depressed to escape!!"
     "I don't really feel like escaping." said Bill. "We'll never be able to
reach the space dock in time anyway. I just want to find someplace where
nobody will bother me."
     "I think he's right." Lee added.
     "No! Listen to me you have to fight it!" urged Landon. "If we stay here
to long, Satan's guards will find us! WE HAVE TO GO NOW!"
Find out in the next episode, appearing only in... Sf-Story!!

***** Received 09:28:20 on 09/05/91, Posting #    93 *****
Main Sfstory Page     Previous Log     Next Log     Index for Logs 031-060