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Sfstory Log 054

Date:         Sun, 13 Sep 1992 20:54:00 EDT
From:         i'm voting for harry truman (SWEDE at DRYCAS.BITNET)
Subject:      SF: Renegade Anarchists episode sixteen

Episode Sixteen: "Between Stir and Mix Lies...Purree!" by Gary W. Olson

     "There's the ship," Time Agent 173 said, seeing the ship called 'the
Fritz'.  "They're here."
     "Initiating landing procedures," Machiavelli called out.  "Drop Trou."
     "In public?" Jerriphrrt asked, confused.
     "No, no, no," Machiavelli said.  "Drop Trou - the Troukanskzki Landing
     "Oh," Jerriphrrt replied.  The ship dropped Trou.  After settling, the
landing ramp snaked out of the Red Emma, and the Renegade Anarchists
     "Don't see the bad guys," Shadebeam said.  "You see 'em, Gham?  Gham?"
She looked at Gham, whose breathing was starting to get shaky.  "Oh, geez.
Not this again.  It was barely funny in the previous episode."
     "This is different," Benjen declared.  "I can feel it too.  Like being
close to an engine that's coming to life."
     "All'a feel is cold," Tarrfel t'Krodkzik said, shivering.  "Why's this
place so cold?"
     "It's an abandoned outpost, from the looks of it," Machiavelli said.
"The security screens keep the atmosphere in, but don't heat it up a whole
lot.  The cons probably re-activated the lights when they came in."
     Inside the Fritz, Milagro Bekn'kse and Hourus Jebillip looked at the
approaching assemblage with growing alarm.
     "It's her!" Milagro declared.  "The boss has brought the Lady Van Van
with him.  Doesn't he know she's really Time Agent 173?"
     "Maybe he's doublecrossed us," Hourus grumbled.
     "Whether he has or not, I'm not gonna sit here and get captured,"
Milagro said.  "Start the engines."
     "Where we gonna go?" Hourus said.  "Their ship is covering the exit with
it's auto-defense systems.  This ship doesn't have enough shielding."
     "Remember that passage down that the boss told us about?" Milagro said.
     "But the boss said not to dare go down there," Hourus replied.  "He says
it's extremely dangerous.  There's a lot of weapon systems, combat droids,
laser grids, pit bulls, and pogo stick brigades!"
     "He's just makin' that up to scare us off, Hourus," Milagro said.
"Besides, we got a choice?"  Hourus shook his head.  "Then let's get goin'."
     Outside the ship, the Renegade Anarchists stopped short as the Fritz
started to lift off.  "What's going on?" Machiavelli cried out.  "Surely they
can see our laser cannons trained on the exit."
     "I don't think that's where they're going," Tarrfel said.  Sure enough,
the Fritz pivoted about and punched through the far wall of the docking bay,
ripping through aged plate and rock.  For a few seconds, the atmosphere in
the bay was ripped about, battering the Anarchists.  When they recovered,
the Fritz was gone.
     "Where'd they go?" Slithis asked.
     "Down," Time Agent 173 said.  "The Cosmic Cuisinart must be located in
the center of the Moon."
     "Oh, well, looks like they got away then," Jerriphrrt said.  "Let's go."
     "What?" Tarrfel asked.  "We've got to get that jewel back from 'em,
     "I'm trying not to," Jerriphrrt replied.  Suddenly, and without warning,
the Moon was rocked severely, knocking the Anarchists down.
     "Satan T. Lucifer Jones must have arrived," Emma noted.
     "It's too soon," Benjen said.  They boarded the Red Emma and looked at
the scopes.  "It's the PLS Tell-Tale Heart.  Hoover's ship!"
     "Well, what are we waiting for?" Jerriphrrt said.  "Let's follow those
con guys!"
     "Keep firing!" Hoover ordered.  "We'll flush those communists out yet!"
     "Um, could you find some other way of doing this?" the Omnipotent
Eggbeater asked.
     "What?" Hoover demanded, whirling on them.
     "I-I-It's just that, um," the Grand High Spatula said.  "This place is
the Holy Planetoid, home of the Cosmic Cuisinart, and firing on it is really
quite blasphemous, non-civic-minded, and just generally a pain in the blender."
     "Talk about cramping my style," Hoover grumbled.
     "Sir!" Edgar Allen Poe called out.  "The mega-armada is arriving..."
     "Good!" Hoover said, lighting a cigar, the entire length of which burst
into flame.
     "...along with two other mega-armadas coming from different directions."
     "Not so good!" Hoover bellowed.
     "We're coming out of warp," Bob said to Tane Tessier.  "Earth's moon is
on the viewscreen."  Tane Tessier gazed at the dull-yellowish looking orb.
     "Not very pretty, is it?" she mused.  "After we get the jewel, we'll
totally annihilate it, because it's so tacky.  The planet, too.  They just
clash so badly, don't you agree?"
     "Of course, my lady," Bob said.  "I--hold on, I'm getting a report."
Bob paused.  "No, I don't want to hear about the industrial uses of
mayonnaise.  Give me the *other* report!"  He paused again, then turned to
Tane.  "My lady!  There are *two* other mega-armadas arriving!"
     "Destroy them both!" Tane ordered.
     "We're emerging from overly-hyped space, mein fuhrer," Goebbels reported
to Omegas.  Omegas grunted and thwapped Goebbels.  "Ow," Goebbels replied.
     "There are two other mega-armadas emerging from warp," Bennett Quark
said.  "They're both bigger than ours."
     "No matter," Omegas rumbled.  "We shall be able to keep them occupied
long enough for myself and you to slip down to the Moon and get the Eiffel
Thing for ourselves."
     Satan T. Lucifer Jones relaxed and sipped a flaming cocktail.  Slender
female swedish masseuses rubbed his thighs while he relaxed, soaking up the
heat.  Then, predictably, he woke up.
     "Wake up!" Susan B. Anthony was saying, shaking him.  "We've arrived."
     "Whuh...but...oh, of course," Satan said.  "Did I get the paperwork
done yet?"
     "Not even close," Susan said.  "And I *sup-pose* you won't be doing it
anytime soon."
     "Are you kidding?" Satan snarled.  "One of my plans to rule the galaxy
is about to actually come to fruition, instead of trailing off into being
forgotten like so many other of my storylines!"
     When he reached the bridge of his flagship, the crew snapped to
     "Your infernal magesty!" a demon said.  "We have arrived!"
     "I know that!" Satan growled.  "What's with all those other ships!"
     "One of them is the missing 666th division that Goebbels took to
search for Bennett Quark, which is now under the command of said Quark.
The other is the mega-armada that has been gathered by Tane Tessier to
obtain the Eiffel Thing for herself.
     "Oh, hell," Satan grumbled.  "Prepare my shuttle."
     "This is incredible," Shadebeam said.  "The moon is...hollow!"
     The Red Emma descended slowly, mindful of the huge, Moon-size space
they were traveling in.  Lights projected by the ship disappeared into the
inky blackness, although instruments showed that, in places, thin metallic
struts extended from the surface shell to the core.
     "The feeling is getting stronger," Gham said.  "As that Eiffel Thing
approaches the Cosmic Cuisinart, they react to each other.  Can you not
feel it?"
     "Oddly enough, yes," Emma Goldman admitted.  "The sheer psychic
wave generation here must be off the scale."
     "There must be a tremendous battle going on in space," Slithis noted.
"The outer shell's starting to heat up, with all the laser blasts it's
     "We're getting close to the core," Time Agent 173 said.  "Gravity is
approaching 1.0.  The Cuisinart must be powering the grav generators."
The ship passed through another slot, into a blindingly bright sphere,
approximately the size of the Epcot center, only spherical.  The gravity,
oddly enough, was not concentrated in the center of the sphere, but was
on the inner surface of the sphere.  The Anarchists set down and got out.
     "They followed us!" they heard a voice saying, from where the Fritz
was parked.  "You said they wouldn't do that!"
     "Relax, relax," the other voice said.  "I'll handle this.  Um...hello!
Boss!  Sorry to run out on ya like that, but we thought..."
     "The jig is up, Milagro Bekn'kse and Hourus Jebillip," Time Agent 173
said authoritatively.  "You're both under arrest."
     "I *knew* it was a doublecross!" Jebillip cursed.
     "Boss, what's going on?" Milagro asked, looking at Machiavelli.  Slowly,
the rest of the Anarchists turned to look at Machiavelli, who was grinning
     "I see it's time for some confessions," he said.  "Yes, I knew about
the Cosmic Cuisinart, a long time before anyone else outside of Time Central
or the Chaotic Bastion of Silliness did.  I discovered it while interviewing
some of the dead members of the CBS, as part of my position as Satan's Cheif
of Coversion.  From their information I was able to find the Cosmic
Cuisinart, and use the computers located here to determine that I needed the
Eiffel Thing to run it.
     "Some more investigation made me discover where the Eiffel Thing currently
was, on Sagistus Epsilon IV, where a genius named Bennett Quark kept it well
guarded.  I hired Milagro Bekn'kse and Hourus Jebillip here, two of the best,
for their particular price bracket, con-men to steal the Thing, and instructed
them to bring it here.  I told them that I would be bringing some buyers, and
that we would sell the Thing and split the profits.  As they saw the Thing as
just an expensive jewel, rather than the key to the Cosmic Cuisinart, they
readily agreed.
     "However, being Satan's Cheif of Coversion, I was in turn under constant
scrutiny, and would never have been able to pull off such a maneuver as the
Cheif.  So, I had to arrange to discredit myself, and allowed J. Edgar Hoover
to outmaneuver me, letting him believe he had won my job from me.  I was
assigned to the PLS Tell-Tale Heart in disgrace.  At the same time, Satan's
new prototype ship, the Red Emma, was being tested on the ship, and I saw
the opportunity to escape.  Using the information I gathered through centuries
of espionage, I programmed a course for the Red Emma to escape from Hell,
knowing eventually I'd be able to manipulate events so that I could
rendezvouz here.  Although there were considerable detours along the way,
here I am!  And revior, Renegade Anarchists!"
     Niccolo Machiavelli broke from the Anarchists and ran towards Milagro,
who was holding the box containing the Eiffel Thing.  Hourus Jebillip moved
to block him, but Machiavelli spun away and tackled Milagro, causing him to
fumble the box, which bounced on the floor and opened, spilling the Eiffel
Thing.  Everyone gasped, seeing it's deep, pulsating green glow, almost
blinding in it's intensity.
     "Look at the Cosmic Cuisinart!" Emma declared.  The Cuisinart, which
was suspended in the center of the sphere, in the exact geographic center of
the Moon, by large beams protruding from the inner surface, was pulsating
wildly in time with the Eiffel Thing.  Emma thought she saw two depressions
in the otherwise smooth, cuisinart shaped surface of the Cuisinart.  One
was small, matching the outline of the Eiffel Thing.  The other was large,
and was unrecognizable to Emma.
     Time Agent 173 shouted as Machiavelli grabbed the Eiffel Thing and
started to sprint for one of the beams.  He was scaling it rapidly, with
Jerriphrrt in rapid pursuit.  Benjen and Gham took to the air, using their
bioelectric fields to propel them, as all members of their race can do.
Machiavelli drew a laser pistol and fired at them, making them veer wide.
     "Not so fast!" two villainous voices said in unison.  The Anarchists
looked at the owners of the villainous voices.
     "Satan!" the Anarchists said, shocked.
     "Omegas!" Satan said, shocked.
     "Omegas!" the Anarchists said, shocked.
     "Satan!" Omegas said, not shocked.
     "Less filling!" the Anarchists exclaimed.
     "Tastes great!" Omegas and Satan shouted back.
     "You're too late!" Machiavelli declared.  Everyone looked up at him.
He had inserted the Eiffel Thing into it's slot in the Cosmic Cuisinart, and
the pulsating green light had became a solid green, a glow that was now
flowing through Machiavelli, causing his eyes and the ends of his fingers
to crackle most impressively.
     "Oh, hell," everyone else said in unison.

Date:         Mon, 14 Sep 1992 17:00:00 EST
From:         "What am I doing in Indiana?" (GEBROWN at INDSVAX1.BITNET)
Subject:      captain galaxy episode five


                      Captain Galaxy Episode Five

        Lieutenant Andrea Skeiner, assisted by Art and Norman, plotted the
course of the little spy ship as it left the F'leerk'va system for parts

        "Why would they want to go there?" asked Art after reviewing the
probable destinations.

        "You never can tell with Zorgoths" said Skeiner.  She turned towards
the captain, who was still upbraiding Lieutenant Hendershot.  "Course laid
in," she announced.  "Most probable destination is Skurvaria system."

        "Why whould they want to go there?" asked Captain Galaxy.  "Okay,
prepare for hyperwarp."

        Skeiner hit the alarm, and the crew scuttled for their seats.


        "Commodore, they're preparing for hyperwarp," said Captain Rong of
the Zorkoth dreadnought Devastator.

        "Follow them," said Commodore Urgfelt.  "They're sure to be following
that spy ship.  Find it's course, and we'll find theirs.  With luck, we can
overtake them."

        "The most probable destination of the spy ship," said Lieutenant
Commander Drenek," is to the Skurvaria system."

        "Why would they want to go there?" asked Urgfelt.


        Lord Blex was mildly angry.  He did not know any details about the
dreadnought squadron, the spy ship, or the Avenger.  This was what made him
angry.  When you're commander of a fleet and you've lost track of your ships
this will make you angry.  Trust me on this one.  Not that I've ever been
commander of a fleet, but I just lost my hat, and not knowing where it is makes
me angry.  That was just a five dollar hat.  Imagine if I had lost a whole
squadron of multi-billion dollar battleships.  That would really get me mad.
Actually, considering the situation, I'd have to say that Lord Blex was taking
it rather well.

        "VARK!" bellowed Lord Blex.

        "Yes, my lord?" said Major Vark obsequiously.

        "Has Urgfelt reported yet?"

        "No, my lord.  Would you like me to put in a request for you to have
him keelhauled."

        "Hmm," mused Lord Blex.


        Jeet sat in a rather uncomfortable chair in the lounge of the spy
ship, guarded menacingly by two Zorgoths.  The Zorgoth captain was continuing
to interrogate him without much success.

        "Are you sure that we were in commonwealth space?" asked said captain.

        "You have it on my honor as a member of the Corps of Independent
Scouts," said Jeet.

        "You're in the Corps of Independent Scouts?" said the captain, as
much as a statement as a questions.  "I'll have to kill you then."

        "Oh," said the rather stunned Lieutenant Querber.  "Why?"

        "Orders," said the captain.  "The naval high command doesn't like
you people very much."

        "Um," Jeet fumbled for a reply.

        "'All members of the Commonwealth Corps of Independent Scouts
penetrating Imperial Space are to be shot on sight.'" quoted the Zorgoth,
"This ship is by definition Imperial space, and I can't think of any good
reason to keep you alive.  Can you?" he asked the large menacing fellows
behind Jeet.

        The afforementioned large menacing types (being the first officer
and the weapons officer) shook their heads.

        "Well, "said Jeet meekly, fumbling for any reason to stay alive,
"I can cook."

        The look on the Zorgoth captain's face slowly changed.  "Something
besides noodles?" he asked quietly.

        "Sure," said Jeet, now regaining control of the conversation.
"I can make a pretty good chili, and my stir-fried vegetables aren't bad.
I also make cole slaw, tossed salads, and all sorts of things like that."

        "Welcome aboard," said the captain, his demeanor doing a 180 with
full tire squealing.  "You're our new ship's cook.  Get rid of the old

        "He was captured in the raid," said the first officer.

        "Saves us the trouble of tossing him out of the airlock," said the

        The weapons officer frowned.  He was rather looking forward to tossing
someone out of the airlock.





we will attempt to answer these questions, with varying degrees of success in
upcoming and/or future episodes of. . .

                         CAPTAIN GALAXY!!!!!
Date:         Mon, 21 Sep 1992 18:48:00 EDT
From:         i'm voting for harry truman (SWEDE at DRYCAS.BITNET)
Subject:      SF: Renegade Anarchists episode seventeen

Episode Seventeen: "Going Out With A Bang" by Gary W. Olson

     "The battle seems to be going well, sir," Tom Cruise reported to Edgar
Allen Poe.  Poe relayed the report to J. Edgar Hoover.
     "Of course they're going well!" Hoover snarled.  "Good ol' American know
how is what's doing it."  The PLS Tell-Tale Heart had arrived and started
bombarding the Moon of Earth scant minutes before three large mega-armadas,
under the seperate commands of Satan T. Lucifer Jones (his infernal magesty
and duke of smelly feet), Tane Tessier (ruthless art collector), and Omegas
(a villain from SfStory's glory days who's just glad to be working again).
Since then, the battle had see-sawed between the three armadas, with Satan's
armada slowly taking the advantage, due to it's numerical superiority (approx.
666 billion ships at last count) and it's hellish weapons.  Naturally, Earth
had taken quite a pounding, seeing as it was located so near (Remember Paris?
It ain't there no more.), though it was the Moon that was taking most of the
stray weapons fire, which was causing great distress to the Omnipotent
Eggbeater and the Grand High Spatula, who regarded Earth's Moon as a Holy
     "Arrrgh!" they screamed.  "We are in great distress!"
     "Cork it, kitchen weasels," Hoover barked at them.  "This is war, in case
you haven't figured it out.  And we're winning it (of course).  So stop yer
sniveling, and your holy fnording planetoid will be safe from commie aggression
very soon now."
     "Sir!" a slightly fearful Edgar Allen Poe said.
     "Can't you see I'm busy?" Hoover growled.
     "But sir," Poe said, "Scanners report that a new ship is entering the
     "Is it a big ship?" Hoover asked.
     "Then what are you worried about?" Hoover screamed, causing Poe's hair to
stand straight out and behind him.
     "It's...the Toaster!" he said.
     "The what?" Hoover inquired.
     "The toaster!" Poe said.  "The same toaster that was responsible for the
utter annihilation of four seperate armadas to date."
     "Oh, well, that's different then," Hoover replied.  "Concentrate all
weapons on blowing that goddamn toaster away!"
     "But that's our ship!" the Grand High Spatula whined.  "I mean, it has to
be our ship.  No one else has a flying toaster, do they?"
     "Yeah," the Omnipotent Eggbeater agreed.  "The natives of Karma Chameleon
II must be behind this somehow.  I just know it."
     "I suppose you're in league with the communists flying it then, eh?"
Hoover asked, blowing smoke rings into the faces of the two top officials of
the Chaotic Bastion of Silliness.
     "Um, no, no, not at all!" the Spatula said.  "Go ahead and blow it up."
     "Right!" Hoover said.  "All weapons fire!"
     "Stop clowning around, you fool," Satan T. Lucifer Jones called up to
Niccolo Machiavelli, who was glowing a deep, pulsating green.  "Leave the
mad lust for ultimate power to the professionals!"
     "Right!" Bennett Quark said.  "That Eiffel Thing belongs to me!  Ergo,
the Cosmic Cuisinart, and it's attendant power, belongs to me as well!"
     Omegas coughed.
     "Oh, and Omegas as well," Quark added.
     "I've brought ten thousand of my soldiers with me," Satan said.
     "I've brought ten thousand as well," Omegas added.  "*Plus* a division
of the Indiana National Guard."  Everyone gasped with fear at the mere mention
of the mighty Indiana National Guard.
     Emma Goldman looked around.  Everywhere she could see was stuffed with
soldiers and/or guardsbeings.
     "Ah take it things aren't going well," Tarrfel t'Krodkzik said.
     "No, they're not," Emma agreed.  Next to her, Benjen, Jerriphrrt, and
Slithis pointed laser pistols in the direction of the soldiers, who were,
fortunately for the anarchists, ignoring them.  Time Agent 173 watched the
scene impassively.  Shadebeam and Gham were quickly smoking the last of
Shadebeam's special cigarettes.  Hourus Jebillip and Milagro Bekn'kse looked
around in vain for a way to sneak back to their ship, which had been blocked
off by the invading soldiers.
     Next to the Cosmic Cuisinart, Machiavelli hovered a while.
     "Not nearly enough," Machiavelli said.  "Dig this action."  He closed
his eyes, and twenty thousand emerald lances shot out from his body, in all
directions.  Each lance impaled a soldier, who started to shimmer a bright
green.  Some soldiers managed to fire their weapons at Machiavelli, who
seemed to absorb the energy.  Finally, the lances flared and faded away, and
the soldiers faded with them.
     "What is it you want, Machiavelli?" Satan asked.  "It's clear this has
been your plan from the start, a tribute to your unequaled skills at intrigue.
What do you hope to gain from this?"
     "Your job, of course," Machiavelli replied.
     "My job..." Satan said.  "You mean, you want to be Head Honcho of Hell?"
     "Yes," Machiavelli said.  "I had advanced to the position of Cheif of
Coversion, which for all intents and purposes is the number two position in
all of Hell.  There was only one way to go from there.  And now, I have the
power to challenge you.  If I win, I become the new ruler of Hell.  If you
win, you get the power of the Cosmic Cuisinart and become unstoppable."
     "Um, excuse me," Omegas said.  "What if I win?"
     "You get all of the above," Machiavelli said.
     "You have but a fraction of my ships," Satan said to Omegas.  "Return them
to me, combine your power with mine, and I'll split the power of the Cosmic
Cuisinart and use of the Hypernet 50-50 with you."
     "Agreed," Omegas said.  The two villains turned to Machiavelli, who had
started to pulse a very violent green.  Satan touched his communicator.
"Focus energy grid on my location.  I want every ounce of power."
     "But sir," a voice replied.  "Our battle with the other mega-armadas..."
     "Is insignificant," Satan replied.  "Focus every last ounce of power on
my location.  My Omni-Vavoom Multi-Phase Energy Channeler is on standby."
     "Yes sir," the voice said.  "We're also getting power from the renegade
ships commanded by Omegas, per your truce."
     "Um, you know," Emma whispered to her compatriots, "it might be very
advisable to make a strategic advance."
     "Toward where?" Time Agent 173 asked.
     "Somewhere other than here," Emma replied.
     "Good idea."  Suddenly, though, a beam of intense, red energy blazed from
Satan, joined by a slightly weaker beam from Omegas, and impacted into
Machiavelli, knocking him from the Cuisinart into the far wall/floor.
Machiavelli shot a brilliant green beam back, which struck Satan on an angle,
causing him to ricochet around the chamber at the center of the Moon like a
ping pong ball.  More soldiers streamed in from outside the chamber and
started firing at whatever was moving.  Structural damage from the battle
outside was causing the chamber to shake - and the battle was yet beginning.
     "Noooooo," Tane Tessier cried out.  "That damn toaster is doing it
*again*!"  The sensor instruments continued to flash the toll the toaster
was taking on her now severely-depleted mega-armada.  Actually, the toaster
was doing very little - it was just that every ship in Satan's fleet was
firing at it, and was missing, and the errant firepower was decimating her
     "My lady, we've got to get away," Bob said.
     "I want that Eiffel Thing," Tane snarled.
     "But my lady, we're down to one ship...this one!"
     "No buts...return fi...*ack!*"  Tane Tessier slumped to the floor of the
bridge.  Bob lifted her body into the command chair, and ordered the crew
to guide the sole remaining ship of Tane's mega-armada the hell away from the
     As the ship blipped into overly-hyped space, Tane began to revive.
     "Bob..." she said, slowly.
     "Yes, my lady?" Bob asked, secure in the knowledge that his death was
about to be ordered.
     "When is my first number?" Tane asked.  "And what am I doing in this
gaudy military-style outfit?  You know I only give concerts au natural."
     "Um, tonight's concert, cancelled," Bob said.  "We're traveling
en route to the, concert."  Inward, Bob was in a state of amazement.
The prized blow on the head he had administered to Tane had adjusted her
personality from ruthless art collector to concert singer, one who would prove
to be quite popular, given the right manager...
     "Just trust me, your manager," Bob said quickly.  Tane nodded and
fell asleep again.
     "I tell you, Ragnuruk, they're traitors!" Nat Rephue howled.
     "Not now, Nat," Ragnuruk replied.  "I'm trying to steer this thing."
     "Mmmmmf!" Benchen and Katayin added.  Being bound and gagged, they could
not say a whole lot more, you see.  That's kind of the point, really.
     "Look out!" Viol cried out.  "The sensors say we're going to hit this
'Moon' of theirs!"  Seconds later, the Toaster hit, causing a violent
     "!" Shadebeam screamed in Slithis' ear.
Slithis pulled her down as a violent green beam shot over them, creating
a shattering impact somewhere.  It was difficult to see, with smoke and
soldiers of Hell obscuring the view, but the battle between Machiavelli,
Satan, and Omegas was evidently reaching a fever pitch.
     A few meters away, Milagro Bekn'kse and Hourus Jebillip slipped past
the soldiers blocking them from their ship and hid under it.
     "We're getting out of here," Milagro said.  "Nothing can stop us now."
Suddenly and without warning, a Toaster crashed through the other wall and
landed directly on Milagro and Hourus' ship, utterly smashing it and the two
con men as well.
     "Well, so much for taking them in," Time Agent 173 sniffed.
     "Get back here!" a voice from the Toaster declared.  Through the chaos,
Jerriphrrt could see two forms running towards them, pursued by a variety
of similar forms.
     "It's the natives of Karma Chameleon II!  Run!"  The Anarchists ran,
dodging laser fire from the natives, the soldiers, blasts from Satan/Omegas
and/or Machiavelli, stray schrapnel, and unwanted offers to discuss their
insurance needs.  They found the Red Emma, which, amazingly, was still
intact, although it's defensive screens were almost kaput.  They stormed
aboard, and started warming the ship for takeoff.
     "Get that landing gear up!" Jerriphrrt yelled.  "They're following us
     "That's Benjen!" Slithis declared.  "Let him in!"  The figure boarded,
followed closely by another figure, who bowled over Slithis.  There was
a large, powerful explosion, that rocked the ship and stunned everybody.
Tarrfel thought she saw someone else board in that moment, but she shook her
head and saw no one, save the two natives of Karma Chameleon II who had
     "Benjen!" Jerriphrrt said.  "Who's this?  And why are you wearing that
silly looking primitive clothing?  I mean..."
     "Um, Jerriphrrt," Benjen said.  "I'm behind you.  That's not me."
Jerriphrrt whirled, and regarded Benjen.  He turned again to regard the
newcomer.  Then back to Benjen.  Newcomer.  Benjen.  It was like Wimbledon.
     "My name is Benchen," Benchen said.  "I must confess I am as greatly
confused as you are.  This is Katayin, my fiance, by the way.  We were
escaping from our fellows, who believe us to be traitors for being against
throwing Gham there into the volcano."
     "Whatever, you're in," Emma said.  "Close that damn ramp!"  The ramp
closed slowly, reluctantly, and the Red Emma punched out of the battle
area, through the same hole that the Toaster came in.  They covered the
distance from the center of the moon to the surface in record time, exiting
through the hole that the Toaster had made when they impacted on the surface,
in the part that had been earlier hit by a bolt from the Red Emma (in RA #3),
which had weakened that section of the surface so much that a tonka toy could
have broken through.
     The ship threaded it's way through now silent battle cruisers of Hell,
and the debris that had been Tane Tessier's armada.  Behind them, the Moon
exploded, showering the Earth with fragments of the hollow surface.  Most of
the fragments burned up on entry into Earth's atmosphere, but a few made it
to the surface, mashing Sydney and Portland.  Emma could see the Cosmic
Cuisinart drifting, glowing with naked power, though she couldn't see any
signs of a victor.  But there had been one, she knew.  But who...?

Date:         Sun, 27 Sep 1992 22:13:00 EDT
From:         i'm voting for harry truman (SWEDE at DRYCAS.BITNET)
Subject:      SF: Renegade Anarchists episode eighteen

Episode Eighteen: "Hostile Takeover" by Gary W. Olson

     "Well, what do we do now?" Jerriphrrt asked from where he lounged in a
couch.  Beside him, Tarrfel t'Krodkzik was going through all the wallets she
had picked off of the demon-soldiers Satan had brought to the chamber in the
center of the Moon.
     "A good question," Time Agent 173 said.  "No matter whether Machiavelli
or Satan T. Lucifer Jones and Omegas won the battle in the last episode, the
victor undoubtedly has control of both Hell and the Hypernet.  That means they
can send ships anywhere in the galaxy, instantaneously, bypassing the defenses
of any world they choose.  It also gives them 10% off of every purchase out of
the Fredericks of Hollywood catalog.  Clearly, the sheer power this represents
is insurmountable."
     "Oh, good," Slithis said.  "That means we won't have to try and surmount
it, and can just fly around and try to find a good party."
     "No, you dweeb," Shadebeam said, bapping Slithis.  "We gotta do something,
or Satan'll muck up every party place in the galaxy."
     "She's right," Emma added.  "But what can we do?"
     "How about telling me and Benchen what happened?" Katayin asked.  "We
kinda just got here."  Benjen handed Benchen a copy of the Renegade Anarchists
episode synopsis, and he and Katayin looked at it.  "We haven't really evolved
literacy yet," Katayin added.
     "We'll breif you later," Emma said.  "What about you?"
     "We were part of the expedition to capture Gham," Benchen said.  "After
months of flying around the galaxy in the space toaster that had been left on
our planet, Karma Chameleon II, we learned of your location, and flew in.  By
that time, Katayin and I had decided it would be wrong to sacrafice Gham to
the volcano god, and had planned to sabotage the effort to capture her.  But
Nat Rephue, the leader of the College Republicans on our ship, learned of our
plans and warned Ragnuruk, who ordered us tied up."
     "Ragnuruk?" Benjen asked.  "In the altiverse I come from, there was a
fellow named Ragna Rok, who took the identity of Galaxy Hunter.  Just like we
are the same person, only from different altiverses.  Only I've never met
anyone like Katayin."  Katayin rolled her eyes.
     "What about the Sage?" Time Agent 173 asked.  "Surely, the Sage will know
what to do."
     "Maybe he'll also tell us what happened to James Dean," Jerriphrrt mused.
"But how will we pay him?  We don't have all that much money."
     "I've taken care of that," Tarrfel announced, holding a fistful of varied
monetary units.  "Demons don't seem to have a lot of cash, since they prefer
travelers checks, but this should cover our visit."
     "Then we're on our way," Emma said.
     Around Earth, various debris was scattered.  If there was atmosphere, I'd
say the debris was scattered in de breeze, but there isn't, and it's not, so
I won't.  You're welcome.
     The Cosmic Cuisinart pulsed a bright green, casting an emerald pallor on
the ships of Hell that were still clustered in the system.  Slowly, a toaster
started to fall to Earth, caught in the planets gravitational field.
     "Wow, I'm glad I understand what's going on now," Benchen and Katayin
said, having just been exhaustively briefed on everything that's happened from
Renegade Anarchists #1 onward.  Emma shushed them, and continued into the
aged space station that was the home of the Sage.  She pushed a button, and
the door opened.
     "Where is he?" Gham asked.  They looked around.  The Sage's recliner was
empty, although there was a half-full can of Pabst on the tv tray beside the
recliner.  There was the sound of flushing, and the Sage return to the room.
     "What?" the Sage said.  "Oh, sorry!  Was the nature
of the altiverse!"  He hid the latest issue of PlayBeing behind his back.
     "I see you have some new faces since we last met," he went on.  "For all
you newcomers, I am the Sage!  I know everything!"
     "Everything?" Katayin asked.
     "Everything!" the Sage boasted.  "Ask away."
     "What should we do next?" Jerriphrrt asked.  The Sage was silent, and
extended his palm.  Jerriphrrt took a bill from Tarrfel and gave it to the
Sage.  The Sage pocketed it, and answered.
     "You've really blown it, Anarchists," the Sage said.  "Boy, have you
blown it!  In fact, you've got only one last chance to save the galaxy from
total domination!  Do you remember that odd depression in the Cosmic Cuisinart
that you noticed?"
     "Um, yeah," Shadebeam said.  "The really big one, you mean?"
     "Yes!" the Sage said.  "Remarkably perceptive for someone whom I tower
over in wisdom!  The really big one was indeed the nub of my gist.  Now, the
Eiffel Thing gives the winner of the battle control over the hypernet - in
effect, the winner controls three dimensions of space.  However, there are
more than three dimensions.
     "The Hypernet was designed as a four-dimensional hyperspatial matrix.
The Eiffel Thing controlled the physical dimensions, but control over the
fourth dimension, time, was assigned to a different object, an object that
has been missing since time immemorial.  Even Time Central does not know of
the existance of this object, it's been missing so long.  Omegas knows of it,
though how he learned the information I do not know, and it can be safely
assumed that the winner of the battle now knows, as well.  You must find this
object, before they do!"
     "What is this object?" Time Agent 173 asked.  The Sage was silent.
Tarrfel paid the Sage $20.  The Sage spoke.
     "The object you seek..."
     "Yes?" the Anarchists said in unison.
     "You're sure you want to know?"
     "Okay!  Okay!  The object you want is...THE ZAMBONI OF DOOM!"
     "THE ZAMBONI OF DOOM?" the Anarchists asked.
     "Will you stop talking in unison?" the Sage growled.  "Yes, THE ZAMBONI
     "What's THE ZAMBONI OF DOOM?" Shadebeam asked.  "And why is it always
capitalized like that."
     "It's capitalized like that because sound effects like voice reverber-
ations don't come across well in a text adventure," the Sage said.  "THE
ZAMBONI OF DOOM is the object that controls the time function of the Cosmic
Cuisinart.  You know it's approximate size, and when you see it, there won't
be any mistaking it."
     "Where is it?" Tarrfel asked.  The Sage was silent.  Tarrfel tried to
give the Sage another $20, but the Sage refused the bill.
     "No one knows where THE ZAMBONI OF DOOM is," the Sage said.
     "I thought you said you knew everything," Benjen accused.
     "I do!" the Sage said.  "I'm the Sage!  I'm the only one who knows that
no one knows where THE ZAMBONI OF DOOM is!"
     Emma sighed.  "Okay.  Just one more question."  Tarrfel slipped the Sage
a ten dollar bill.  "Who won the battle between Satan and Machiavelli?"
     "Why don't you just ask Mr. Jones himself?" the Sage said, pocketing the
bill.  "He's standing right behind you."
     "Satan!" Emma said, shocked.  Satan T. Lucifer Jones stood in the doorway,
looking like he had just gone through hell.  "But if you're here, then that
     "I am the new ruler of Hell!" Machiavelli announced, striding onto the
bridge of the flagship of Hell.  A demon guard moved to stop him, but
Machiavelli merely glanced in his direction, and the guard spontaneously
combusted.  "I have defeated Satan T. Lucifer Jones and the whole force of
Hell combined, with the power of the Cosmic Cuisinart.  Announce this to all
of Hell, effective immediately."
     The bridge crew gulped, but complied.  Machiavelli smiled and went down
the corridor.  He threw open the door to Satan's office.  Susan B. Anthony
looked up from her paperwork and gasped.
     "No need to be alarmed, my dear," Machiavelli said, striding into the
room.  "You'll still be my Chief Secretary."
     "How did you manage to defeat Satan?" Susan asked.
     "I caused his energy focusing device to short out," Machiavelli said.
"Not terribly sporting of me, but it did make things easier.  As for Omegas,
I have no idea where he is now, but I doubt he's in any shape to challenge
my power, nor is Satan, who managed to escape with the Renegade Anarchists."
     "I...see," Susan said.  "Do you have any instructions?"
     "On what?" Machiavelli asked.
     "We have numerous plots and schemes being run, in this altiverse and
the Superguy altiverse," Susan said.  "Shall we suspend these operations,
pending your review?"
     "Certainly not!" Machiavelli replied.  "I order that all plots, schemes,
intrigues, and other errata terra nova redundata, be continued.  Even with
all the changes I intend to implement, I find it desirable to maintain a
sense of continuity."  Machiavelli threw open the door to Satan's inner
office.  "As for this paperwork..."  Beams of green light shot out of
Machiavelli, striking the mounds and mounds of paperwork that were piled
chesthigh around the office.  The piles flared and disappeared.  Machiavelli
turned back to Susan, a dark look on his face, his eyes glowing a sinister
emerald green.  "Also effective immediately - screw the paperwork."
     Susan gulped.  "Yes, sir."
     "Okay," Machiavelli said.  "There was a plot I remember from a while
ago, regarding the elections in the Superguy altiverse.  Is that plot still
going forwards?"
     "Not very quickly, but yes," Susan said.  "Agents Kinison and Perkins
are carrying it out, and Agent Truman has just contacted Bush."
     "I'll want to talk to Kinison and Perkins," Machiavelli said.  "Tell me
when you've established visual and audio contact."
     In the Superguy altiverse, the head waiter placed a sign on the wall of
Fong's House of Oriental Delights.  It read "under new management", in chinese.
     "I'm ruined," Satan said, sitting in a barc-a-lounger.  "All I've worked
for, all I've slaved for, is gone.  After centuries of causing terror in the
hearts of beings all across the galaxy, after centuries of torture and plotting
and scheming, I'm...unemployed!"
     It was nearly a full minute before the Anarchists stopped laughing.
     "Come on, you've got to help me!" Satan told them.  "Without Hell...I'm"
     "Like a fish without a bicycle!" Jerriphrrt said, brightly.
     "Like Walter Cronkite, only uglier!" Tarrfel giggled.
     "Like a really sleazy day at Six Flags over Topeka!" Slithis added.
     "Stop it!" Satan said.  "I can help you find THE ZAMBONI OF DOOM!  I know
all sorts of secret hidden places in this galaxy.  I know how to evade the
ships of Hell.  And...I know what those unlabeled switches on your ship do!"
     "Why should we help you?" Emma asked.  "If you get control of Hell again,
you'll just keep trying to capture us."
     "Grrrrr...okay!" Satan said.  "If you let me join you, I promise that,
once I'm in control of Hell again, I will decree that I have no claim on your
soul, or the souls of anyone in your crew, for now and evermore.  You will be,
in effect, free of me forever."
     "How can we trust your promises?" Gham asked.
     "Sigh," Satan sighed.  "Cross my heart and hope to die, stick a needle in
my eye."
     "Even Satan cannot break a vow such as that," the Sage said.  "It is the
most binding vow anyone can make."
     "Okay," Emma said, holding out a hand, reluctantly.  "Welcome to the
Renegade Anarchists, Satan T. Lucifer Jones."

Date:         Sun, 4 Oct 1992 20:21:00 EDT
From:         welcome to the faith dome explosion (SWEDE at DRYCAS.BITNET)
Subject:      SF: Renegade Anarchists episode nineteen

Episode Nineteen: "The Color of Hell" by Gary W. Olson

     "Gentlemen," Machiavelli said, from behind his desk, which used to
belong to Satan T. Lucifer Jones.  "Welcome."
     "Um, thanks, boss," Milagro Bekn'kse said.  Behind him, Hourus Jebillip
gulped and smiled weakly.  "Can we sit down?"
     "But of course," Machiavelli said, and clapped his hands.  A couple
demon servants came in, carrying chairs, and quickly exited.  Machiavelli
gestured, and Milagro and Hourus took their seats.
     "I like the glowing green eyes, boss," Milagro said.
     "Thank you," Machiavelli replied.  "Now, as you are no doubt acutely
aware, you two are dead."
     "We were alerted to this," Milagro said.  "We died when we were crushed
under our ship by a toaster of some kind."
     "Precisely," Machiavelli said.  "Yet, had it not been for your service
to me, in stealing the Eiffel Thing, which allowed me to harness the power of
the Cosmic Cuisinart and defeat Satan T. Lucifer Jones, thus allowing me to
take control of Hell, none of us would be here.  So, in repayment for the role
you played in my ascent to power, I am going to make you members of Hell's
Board of Directors."
     "Board of Directors?" Hourus asked.  "I was told this was a public
institution - you know, like the Galactic Reserve Bank, or Wal-Mart."
     "It *was*," Machiavelli said.  "I have come to the conclusion, over my
centuries in Hell, that it was an enormously inefficient operation, wraught
with bloat and incredible mismanagement.  Our share in the afterlife industry
is dropping like a rock.  Our cash flow isn't doing so, and frankly, our
image among mortals age 18-35 is far too low.  No one wants to go to Hell
     "That is why I've decided to take Hell corporate," Machiavelli said.  "As
of tomorrow, the first share of stock in Hell will be going on sale on the
New York Stock Exchange on Earth tomorrow, with shares to be offered in the
coming weeks in the stock markets on Gibblegrum, on Kookamonga IX, on Planet
California, as well as Earth-Superguy.  Naturally, I will retain 51% of the
stock, thus retaining complete control of Hell.  But the stock should provide
us with lots of new revenue.  You, Milagro, will be the Director in charge of
     "That's very generous of you, boss," Milagro said.  "But I don't think I
really want to--"
     "Of course, if you refuse, I'll have Joan of Arc give you a spontaneous
sex change operation with a rusty hacksaw..."
     " refuse, that is!  I don't want to refuse!"
     "Excellent," Machiavelli said, lighting a cigar with a blast of green
light.  "As for you, Hourus, you're going to be in charge of marketing."
     "M-m-m-marketing?" Hourus asked.
     "Of course, marketing!" Machiavelli said.  "Hell needs a new image.  Some-
thing that's in synch with the 90's.  Sexy, flashy...just a sec.  Hey, Susan!
Is Cindy Crawford dead?"
     "No she's not!" Susan called back from the front office.  Machiavelli
snapped his fingers.  "Well, you'll think of something else, Hourus.
Otherwise...klzzzzktch!"  Machiavelli slid his finger over his throat as he
did so.  The finger actually tore *through* Machiavelli's throat, and an eerie
green light poured out.  Hourus gulped and nodded vigorously as the skin
sealed itself up.
     "Great!  Now get outta here.  Susan!  Get Hoover, Poe and Goebbels in."
     "Wait, wait, wait," Satan T. Lucifer Jones said.  "What about James
Dean?  I killed him, back in episode thirteen, and he turned out to be a
robot?  What gives?"
     The Sage looked at him evenly.
     "Well?  Oh, yes..." Satan rummaged around his pockets.  ", wait...
maybe in seem to be a embarassed."
     "What's that, lad?" Tarrfel asked.  "Ye don't have a cent on ye?"
     "No!  I'm Satan!  I've never had to carry cash before.  Usually, when
I want something, I simply go into a solar system, threaten to take it unless
they give it to me, and then usually destroy the solar system anyway."
     "Well, we'll loan you the money," Emma said.
     "Thank you, my dear..."
     "Which you'll have to repay."
     "With interest."
     "Two percent."
     "Phwew!" Satan sighed a breath of relief.
     "Compounded hourly."
     "Hourly?!" Satan said.  "That's outrageous!  That's despicable!  That...
you know, I wish I had thought of that.  Sigh...okay, I agree.  When I get
Hell back, I'll be more than able to repay you."  Tarrfel gave Satan a $20
bill, which Satan gave to the Sage.
     "Your fellow Anarchists," the Sage said.  "Have theorized that the James
Dean that you killed in your office was substituted at some time during their
original flight from Hell.  They are incorrect.  The James Dean you slew was
the same one that arrived in Hell immediately after he died.
     "Then, that would mean..." Shadebeam began.
     "Don't interrupt me!" the Sage screamed.  "I am the Sage!"
     "Go ahead, dorkmeister," Shadebeam replied.  Gham giggled.
     "As I was saying!" the Sage continued.  "This means that the James Dean
that was on Earth was a robot, although he was one so cleverly designed,
that nothing could detect that he was not an organic being."
     "So, the real James Dean was a robot?" Time Agent 173 asked.
     "No, no, no!" the Sage said.  "The James Dean that was on *Earth* was a
robot.  The Real James Dean is something else entirely."
     "Which is?" Satan prompted.  The Sage looked at him silently.  "Oh, come
on!  Please?"  The Sage stayed silent.
     "It doesn't matter," Jerriphrrt stated.  "We have to find THE ZAMBONI
OF DOOM, not the Real James Dean."
     "Jerri's right," Emma said.  "Get up, Satan, you smoldering pile of bayou
biscuits.  We've got a ZAMBONI to find."
     "And where, my dear, do you suggest we look?" Satan asked, a thin smile
on his face.
     "I don't know," Emma was forced to admit.  "If *only* we had someone to
guide us..."
     "This is a job..." a sublimely heroic voice said, "for...ZEN NAVIGATOR!"
     "Oh, don't tell me *you* get *your* name in caps, too?" Katayin asked.
     Omegas stirred.  Omegas stirred some more.  Omegas added some milk and
creamer, then sipped the java.  "Bleah!" he commented.
     "Hey guard!" Bennett Quark called out.  "This coffee sucks!"
     "Hey, it's Hells Brothers, whad'ya expect?" a demon guard growled.
     "This is some fine how-do-you-do," Omegas grumbled.  "Me, a big name
sfstory villain, imprisoned in Hell, being served bad coffee, stuck in here
with a supposedly mad genius who whines more than Woody Allen."
     "That's not very nice," Bennett commented.
     "Of course it's not nice!  I'm a villain!"
     "Oh, that's right.  Never mind, then."
     There was a noise in the hall.  The guard heard it and moved off, his
hellfire pistol at ready.  After he was gone, another figure entered from the
other end of the hallway, and came up to the cell.
     "You are the villain Omegas?" the figure asked.
     "Why, yes, I am," Omegas said, flattered that someone recognized him.
     "My name is Lenin," the figure said.  "I have an offer for you and
Mr. Quark..."
     "MIS-ter Hoover," Machiavelli said, pacing around J. Edgar Hoover, Edgar
Allen Poe, and Goebbels, all of whom were standing rigidly at attention.  "It
would seem I am your new boss now."
     "Yeth thir!" Hoover said, his teeth clenched.
     "You know," Machiavelli continued.  "I recall how you thought you had
maneuvered me out of my position as Satan's Cheif of Coversion.  Naturally,
this was part of my plan - the only lucky part was that I had someone as
truly blockheaded as yourself to not catch on to what I was doing.
     "Mein fuhrer..." Goebbels began.
     "Don't start that with me!" Machiavelli said, singing Goebbels mustache
off with a green blast.
     "Ooch!" Goebbels said.  ", sir.  Ve have control of the
Hypernet.  Vhen vill ve be striking out against the galaxy?"
     "At once," Machiavelli said.  "In fact, you will be personally commanding
the mission against the core systems.  The fleet is dispersing from Earth
as we speak.  Better get going!"  Goebbels ran out of the office.
     "Uh, sir," Poe asked, his voice quivering.  "What are you going to do
to--er, with us?"
     "You two still have to complete the mission you were previously charged
with," Machiavelli said.  "You must locate the Red Emma and bring it back."
     "Satan has likely joined forces with the Anarchists," Hoover said.
     "Of course he has!" Machiavelli said.  "Very good, Hoover!  You're
learning.  Think for a moment.  I know it's difficult, but please try.  What
was Satan's favorite color?"
     "Exactly!  And what other things do we know that are red?"
     "Um...the Soviet flag?"
     "Correct!" Machiavelli said.  "Satan is obviously a communist.  Now,
what is my favorite color?"
     "Well, this is just a wild guess,"
     "Correct!  Green, the color of money, is the color of Hell!"
     "I see!" Hoover exclaimed, suddenly inspired.  "I'll catch those reds,
sir!  You can count on me!  C'mon, Poe!"  Poe gulped as Hoover tugged him out
of the office.
     On Earth, the people were still recovering from being shot up and
bombarded from the recent battle in space around Earth.  They saw there was
no longer a Moon in the sky, but there was a giant, glowing green thing that
was shaped like a cuisinart floating about.  It was a thing that occasioned
much debate, and not a small amount of drinking.
     So, when the populace of Juneau, Alaska, saw a giant toaster plummeting
towards them at great speeds, they merely assumed it was just a byproduct
of said drinking.  This proved to be untrue when the Toaster impacted on
the city, causing the city to blow up.
     The smoke cleared, revealing a huge crater, where Juneau used to be.
At the center of the crater, on it's side, a large, spacegoing Toaster
rested.  Many moments passed.  Eventually, a door opened, and a head popped
     "Sorry!" Ragnuruk called out.  "Didn't mean to blow up your city!"
     "Are you saying you can guide us to THE ZAMBONI OF DOOM?" Benjen asked.
     "Of course!" Zen Navigator said.  "My powers of Amazing Zen Awareness
will lead us to it!"
     "Aren't you involved in that search for Planet BBC storyline?" Satan
     "Let me think," Zen mused.  "Ah...yes, I believe I was.  Of course,
I do so much time and dimensional traveling, that I could be involved in
any number of totally different storylines simultaneously.  Aren't you
involved in some sort of storyline involving a twinkie?"
     "What?" Satan asked.  "Oh, that...I bulk-taped a bunch of Tales of a
Junk Food Confection episodes over the summer.  Didn't know if they'd ever
get around to showing them."
     "We've got your psychadaelic VW minibus in the cargo hold," Tarrfel
said to Zen.  "We're ready to go."  With that, the Red Emma left the Sage's
space station, to search for THE ZAMBONI OF DOOM.

Date:         Sun, 11 Oct 1992 09:53:00 EDT
From:         welcome to the faith dome explosion (SWEDE at DRYCAS.BITNET)
Subject:      SF: Renegade Anarchists episode twenty

Episode Twenty: "I Know a Wiener Man, He Owns a Hot Dog Stand..."
                by Gary W. Olson

     "Left" Satan said, his words straining.  "Aggh...I can't...
reach...ow!"  Satan slipped and fell on the Twister mat, tripping up Jerriphrrt
as he fell.  Gham jumped up and squealed with joy, as she had won yet another
game of "Twister".  "Oh, my back," Satan T. Lucifer Jones moaned, crawling
his way to a seat.  "When I get back to Hell, I'm going to have to replace the
rack with this game.  Owowowowowow..."
     "Oh, you big baby," Gham teased, while she helped Jerriphrrt up.  "Were
you hurt?  You're all banged up.  Tell me where it hurts..."
     "My back," Satan moaned, "and my elbows, and my shoulders...ow...and..."
     "Not you, silly," Gham said.  "Jerri here."  Jerriphrrt grinned sheepishly
(or cattily, given his species), and Satan sighed.
     "Hey, Zen Moron," Satan yelled.  "You figured out where we oughta be,
yet?  I gotta get off this nut tub!"
     "Have patience!" Zen Navigator said in a heroic voice.  "My Amazing Zen
Awareness is directing us to where we ought to go."
     "Oh, by the gods," Benchen moaned.  "That's what you said six planets
ago.  I mean, are we even getting close?"
     "It is clear," Zen said, "that you doubt my brilliant abilities, stagger-
ing though that doubt is.  Very well, I tell you, on the next planet, we shall
learn where the ZAMBONI OF DOOM is located!"
     "Just so long as it's a planet with a good duty-free shop," Shadebeam
grumbled.  "I'm all outa cigarettes, and we don't dare use the Hypernet, since
Machiavelli took control of it."
     Emma Goldman nodded her head.  "The Core systems are under heavy attack.
Hell has been able to use the Hypernet to bypass all the defense systems.
Once they have the core secured, they'll be able to launch an attack on the
eastern spiral, and the best western spiral, and the spirograph spiral."
     "Planet's coming in sight," Benjen said.
     "It's the Planet Wedonknownuthinboutnozamboni," Slithis added.  Third
planet from the sun in the Zamboni?neverheardofit System.  Zen, are you
sure we'll find something here?"
     "Of course!" Zen Navigator beamed.  "My navigational sense is infallible!
It's my destinations that tend to get lost."
     "Right," Time Agent 173 said.  "Everyone had a line to say?  Good, we're
landing now.  Strap yourselves in."
     "You heard her," Katayin said, snuggling next to Benjen.  "We'd better
strap in."
     "Er, yoo hoo!" Benchen said.  "That's Benjen.  I'm Benchen, over here.
Your fiance, remember?"
     "Oh...that's right!" Katayin said.  Benjen sighed as Katayin left him and
snuggled next to Benchen.  "You just look so much alike, it's confusing."
     "Anybody got a band-aid?" Satan asked plaintively.
     "Sir!" Edgar Allen Poe said.  "We've got a fix on the Red Emma!  One of
the Eyes of the Hypernet witnessed them landing on Planet Wedonknownuthinbout-
     "Excellent!" J. Edgar Hoover said.  "Before, we never would have made it
there in time.  But now that Hell has control of the Hypernet..."
     "Uh, sir, that's Hell, Inc."
     " that Hell, *Inc.*, has control of the Hypernet (razznfrazzn
bureaucratic commies...), we can get there in seconds.  Set course!"  With
that, the PLS Tell-Tale Heart lumbered into one of the glowing Eyes of the
Hypernet that drifted, now constantly alight, near the flagship of Hell, and
     "Hello, big boy," singing sensation Tane Tessier cooed.  "You know, a
gal like me knows there's only one place to go when you die, and that's Hell.
It's the hottest place around, and everyone who's anyone is there or on their
way, including me."  Tane rolled on her back, her body covered only by a thin
red silk sheet.  "So, sign your soul away today, and we can have a really...
horny...time."  Tane giggled, the number (666) 666-6666 flashed on the
screen, and the monitor flickered off.
     "Well, sir?" Hourus Jebillip, the Marketing Director on Hell's newly
formed Board of Directors, asked.  "Whad'ya think?  We've been test-marketing
it on selected planets, and we've already seen a 666% increase in soul
signings.  You know, I never thought much of her as a menacing rich art
collector, but she's great as a concert performer.  Why, I was talking to her
manager, Bob, and..."
     "Quiet," Machiavelli grumbled.  "It's perfect.  Run the ad and the others
you've developed in full circulation, in prime time spots in the Sfstory
altiverse and the Superguy altiverse.  Milagro - you've got a report on how
stock in Hell, Inc. is selling."
     "Yes, sir," Milagro Bekn'kse replied.  "Our stock is red hot on the
intergalactic stock exchanges.  It's been burning up the market, and already,
a quarter of the stock available for sale has been sold.  There's one more
thing, too..."
     "Yeah, what is it?" Machiavelli said, his eyes flashing an angry green.
     "There's this Author, you see," Milagro said.  "He's called the Man
With Two First Names.  He wants to buy some stock, you see.  About 25%, which
would make him the second biggest stockholder, and put him on the board of
directors.  He's on line 6 right now."
     "So he is, is he," Machiavelli said.  "Okay, patch him through."
Machiavelli picked up the phone.  "Hello, Mr. With Two First Names.  Oh, just
call you Bill? ...okay.  Uh huh.  Uh-HUH.  No kiddin.  A midget...with a
camcorder...a saint burke...greased hamsters...hahahahahhaha!
That's a great joke, Bill, great.  Now, about this stock thing, I can't really
sell it too you.  Why?  Well, uh, basically, I'm evil.  No, really, I am.
I'm evil like you just wouldn't believe.  Listen...I don't *care* if you're
an Author.  The answer's still no.  Well, if you must know, I don't like how
you've been stringing out my plot to capture the presidency on Earth-Superguy.
I'm on a timetable, man, do you hear me, a timetable!"
     Machiavelli paused, and listened to a strong, angry bit of cursing from
the telephone.  "Why, thank you!" he said at the end of it.  "But flattery
will get you nowhere. down, Mr. Paul, or I'll get rough.
Mr. Paul...oh, take this!"  A green bolt shot out from Machiavelli's eyes
into the telephone receiver.  There was a yelping sound.  "Yes, I know I
fried your eyebrows clean off.  That was just a warning, you here me?  I
rule here!  Oh yeah...yeah, you're gonna get back at me, sure.  Do your
worst, Mr. Hot-Shot Big Time Author.  I--hello?  hello?  Damn, he hung up."
Machiavelli shrugged as he set the phone back down.  "Thank you for your
report, Milagro.  I'll let you keep your major organs intact."
     "Now, it has come to my attention, that employees have been abusing their
one toilet break per week," Machiavelli went on.  "I'm sorry, but we all have
to tighten our belts, if we want Hell, Inc. to become a truly staggeringly
profitable enterprise.  And this habit of having to sleep will just have
to be stopped.  It's just eating into the amount of hours I can get from you.
Are there any questions?"  Naturally, there were none - the other members of
the board knew there would be trouble if they said anything.  "Very well,
you're dismissed."  The board members fled the room, and Machiavelli chuckled.
Soon, the galaxy would be under his grasp.  If only he could find the ZAMBONI
OF DOOM, which he learned of from the Cosmic Cuisinart, then he would be the
master of the galaxy for all eternity, since the centuries would no longer
be a barrier to his ships.
     "The ZAMBONI OF DOOM?  Never heard of it," the mayor replied.  "Would
you care to see the GOLF CART OF GENOCIDE instead?  Or maybe the MOPED OF
MADNESS?  We can tell you exactly where those are.  But we don't know
anything about any ZAMBONI OF DOOM."
     "He lies," Gham said.  "I can sense it."
     "You'd better tell us where the ZAMBONI is," Slithis threated.  "Or..."
     "Or what?" the mayor asked, unperturbed.
     "Or I threaten you some more!" Slithis announced.  The mayor rolled his
eyes.  Resting her head on Slithis' shoulder, Shadebeam rolled her eyes.
     "Forget it," Time Agent 173 said.  "He's not talking.  No one on this
stupid planet will talk about the ZAMBONI.  We're back where we started."
     "But these people are the only people who know where the ZAMBONI is!"
Zen Navigator said.  "My infallible Amazing Zen Awareness tells me this."
     "Wait, I've got an idea," Satan T. Lucifer Jones said.  "Sir, my
companions and I are on a mission, one that will hopefully result in my
being reinstated as head honcho of Hell."
     "Hell?" the mayor asked.  "How about that!  I just bought a couple
shares this morning.  Looks like it's gonna be a real sizzler."
     "Well," Satan said.  "Once I get back my former despised position back,
I'll be in a position where I can reward you very
women...substances of an illicit nature..."
     "Aw, I get all those now," the mayor replied.
     "I could give you a seat on the Board of Directors," Satan said.
     "You could?" the mayor said, his eyes lighting up.  "If you do that,
it's a deal!"
     "Okay...hmmm...I don't seem to have any of the standard contracts on
me...oh, here's one.  I'll just cross out 'soul ownership transfer agree-
ment' here, and write in 'board of directors application.'"  The mayor filled
it out.  "Don't worry about that mandatory 50 hours of community pain.
Directors get to skip that requirement.  Same with the Steven Seagal rectal
exam.  Just sign down here, in blood, if you please.  Thank you."  Satan
rolled up the contract and tucked it away.
     "The ZAMBONI," the mayor whispered, "is..."
     "Yes?" Emma murmured.
     "On..." the mayor said.
     "Yes??" Benjen and Benchen said.
     "You sure you're ready for this?"
     "YES!!" the Anarchists said in unison.
     "It's on Planet Earth," the mayor said.
     "Planet Earth?" Emma asked, confused.  "We were just there a while ago."
     "And you must return," the mayor answered.  "Did you think the ZAMBONI
would be so far away from the Cosmic Cuisinart?  Think again."
     "Where on Earth is the ZAMBONI?" Katayin asked.
     "That, even I don't know," the mayor said.  "Hey, just remember, you
didn't hear ANY of this from me, got it?"
     "Right," Jerriphrrt said.  "Come on, kids, let's go!"  He grabbed Gham
by the hand and raced out the door, followed by the rest of the Anarchists.
The mayor watched them leave, impassively.  After he saw their spaceship
rising into the atmosphere, he took off his groucho glasses and nose.  The
Anarchists would have been very surprised to learn that the mayor of Planet
Wedonknownuthinboutnozamboni looked exactly like James Dean.
     "Are you sure this is a good idea?" Nat Rephue asked Ragnuruk.
     "Of course it is," Ragnuruk asked.  He cracked the whip again, and the
sled dogs pulled harder.  Polar bears, had they the capacity to be stunned
by such things, would have been stunned to see a large toaster skidding
over the ice and snow of Alaska, heading north, pulled by a large team of
sled dogs.  "We've got to find a place to hide out on this planet while we
repair the Toaster's engines."
     "I don't think the people in that town we just passed liked it very much
when we blew up their town," Viol added.  "Otherwise, they would have helped
us.  But we did get a nice souvenier."  Viol held up the stuffed moose head,
to emphasize his point.
     "I keep telling you - steer *around* the gas tankers," Nootgingitch
said.  "But do you listen?  No!  Now CBS' fall lineup is all screwed up."
     "Ah, don't bug me," Ragnuruk grumbled.  The toaster sledded off into
the icy whiteness of the Great White North (coo-loo-coo-coo-coo-coo-COO-COO!).
     Susan B. Anthony stepped through a door, and was quickly pulled inside.
The door was shut, and a dim light finally came on.  She recognized those
gathered with her: Lenin, Mao Tse-Tung, Karl Marx, Bennett Quark, the
Omnipotent Eggbeater, the Grand High Spatula, and..."
     "Omegas!" she gasped.
     "Yes, Omegas," Omegas said, vaguely irritated.
     "Thank you for attending, my dear," Lenin said.  "I know it must not have
been easy slipping away from Machiavelli, since he does not need sleep."
     "He's in meditation with the Cosmic Cuisinart," Susan said.  "Says he's
looking for a ZAMBONI of some kind.  Don't know what he means."  Omegas
started perceptibly at the mention of the ZAMBONI.  Bennett Quark nearly
     "At any rate, we may not have much time left to strike," Karl Marx said.
"The communist revolution in Hell was a disaster, but this current conspiracy
must not fail, else Hell, Inc, will be with us forever, as will Machiavelli.
Once he's overthrown, Hell shall no longer be so Hellish!"
     "Well said," Omegas complimented Marx.  "Now, let us make plans."
Inwardly, he grinned.  The Cuisinart would be his, yet, along with the might
of Hell itself.

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