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Sfstory Log 082

=========================================================================
Date:         Fri, 3 May 1996 11:40:23 -0400
Reply-To:     UCF SUPERGUY List (SUPERGUY at UCF1VM.BITNET)
Sender:       UCF SUPERGUY List (SUPERGUY at UCF1VM.BITNET)
From:         Nopporn Wongrassamee (NoppornW at AOL.COM)
Subject:      SF: One Shots #7

* RED ALERT * RED ALERT * RED ALERT * RED ALERT * RED ALERT * RED ALERT *

        Due to events beyond our control, our regularly scheduled episode
- to wit, part 2 of A Little Trouble in Big China - will not be seen
today.
        The Author has been (shudder) Inspired.

                  Overly Bar-B-Cued Authorial Productions              __
                                Presents:                    __..--''^^
               |____                ______         __..--''^^
               [] \_\         ..--^^/  ___\..--''^^
        ___,.___\_|_|____ .../    _/__/
       |^'.:._/L[/____/ /^^/{-^^^^ \  \________________..................
        \_|   |L[   .{ /__// \   ___\_____/
       __:=\._|L|.-^  \\__|-^ ^^^^^^^^^
.--[]^^    _\_^/'._____\.'            @@@@  @@  @@ @@@@@@
:==:| _..-'.--|^'^|--.               @@  @@ @@@ @@ @@
'--'^^     |--|   |--|               @@  @@ @@@@@@ @@@@
          /^'-|___|/\^\              @@  @@ @@ @@@ @@
         /   /    \  \ \              @@@@  @@  @@ @@@@@@
       _/   /      \ _\ \__
      /|^'-/        /  \/| |      @@@@@ @@  @@  @@@@  @@@@@@  @@@@@
-----: :._/|--------\__/ |_|-----@@-----@@--@@-@@--@@---@@---@@----------
     |/  //        / |  / /       @@@@  @@@@@@ @@  @@   @@    @@@@
    /'..//       _/  | / /           @@ @@  @@ @@  @@   @@       @@
   /_//./      .'|^'\|/.:__      @@@@@  @@  @@  @@@@    @@   @@@@@
  /| ^/\|      \ |O''/^^'\ \
 / | |  \       ^''-/     \ \  Episode #7: "Planet Delicatessen:
 ^^^^^^^^           ^^^^^^^^^              An Analogs Interlude"

                               by Nopporn Wongrassamee
                                  the Evil Author

{000SFSTORY}
        "This is a nice place," Mary commented as she devoured her pizza.
"Especially compared to some of the planets I've been, too."
        "Always liked it I have," Yoga agreed, munching on his fish 'n
chips.
        "I don't understand it," Doc Brownish was saying as he absently
munched on his streudel. "We should have wound up on Barbados, planet of
Physical Delights in 001SFSTORY."
        "Really?" Doctor When asked, pausing from eating his Teriyaki
escargot. "I thought we were going at arrive at Brainios, Planet of
Mental Delights, in 002SFSTORY."
        "Gah, you would," Brownish mumbled. "I don't know about the rest
of you, but spending a few days playing Go and chess and doing crossword
puzzles doesn't really interest me."
        "We'll take your word for it," Michael Squire said around his
hamburger. "Say, SIK, have you figured out what went wrong?"
        "Who me? I'm just a dumb machine! Aah, that's much better," the
car sighed in pleasure as a technician replaced the dripping can of 940W
motor oil with a full can.
        "Well, you guys complain if you want," Mary put in. "I intend to
fully ejoy myself." She giggled. "Author! Gourmet Pizza from a vending
machine and it tastes great, too."
        "Well, this IS Delicatessan, Planet of Gourmet Delights," Doctor
When put in. "It just happens to be the analog of Barbados and Brainios."
        Mary nodded. "Okay, I get it. Say, what's that?" She pointed at a
pair giant robots in the distance who were enjoying some glowing cubes. A
red truck pulled up to them and transformed into another giant robot.
        "Trackformers," Yoga supplied. "A trail wherever they go they
leave behind."
        "I'd hate to be the guy to clean up after them," Michael
commented.
        "Yes, they're an interesting bunch," When mused aloud. "They've
been engaged in a civil war for the past few million years or so. Their
home planet was once a war machine to feared, but the Trackformers tore
the place apart for spare parts. I believe those Trackformers belong to
the faction known as the OughtToBots."
        "Not Decrepticons at least they are," Yoga added.
        "Well, I'm full, how 'bout the rest of you?" When asked. There
were agreements all around. "Great, let's see to our next destination."

WHAT'S THEIR NEXT DESTINATION?

WHAT'S MARY'S ENEMIES' NEXT MOVE?

FOR THAT MATTER, WHAT'S THE POINT OF THIS EPISODE?!

Superguy, love it or become a prisoner of it, yammering at the whole list
about how to unsubscribe and junk.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------
Copy Right Notice:
This story is (C)opyright by Nopporn Wongrassamee in 1996. All rights
 reserved.

Send feedback to: NoppornW at aol.com

"unsubscribe superguy"
                 - sent to listserv at ucf1vm.cc.ucf.edu by unsubscribers
=========================================================================
Date:         Tue, 7 May 1996 01:53:07 -0400
Reply-To:     UCF SUPERGUY List (SUPERGUY at UCF1VM.BITNET)
Sender:       UCF SUPERGUY List (SUPERGUY at UCF1VM.BITNET)
From:         flag on the moon (swede at SOJOURN1.SOJOURN.COM)
Subject:      SF: Renegade Anarchists IV, episode twenty five

                            RENEGADE ANARCHISTS IV:
                            IN THEIR FINAL EPISODE
                             (a Tale of Sfstory!)
                                  Episode 25
                                 "One Hundred"
                                      by
                                 Gary W. Olson
         _____________________________________________________________
        [ Based on a grant from the William S. Lotsadough Foundation, ]
        [ only don't tell them, because we didn't, either.  Hopefully ]
        [ we'll reach Argentina before they find out.                 ]
         ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
                                     -~-_-

     "And so do you, Jerriphrrt of Planet Calico, take this woman for your
lawfully wedded wife?" Captain J. Michael Spaulding asked.
     "I do," Jerriphrrt answered, as he gazed at Gham's radiant face.
     "Hmmm," Spaulding said, "I took her for the window cleaning lady.
Guess I'd better see the optometrist, or, if he's not in, the pessimetrist.
If I do that, I won't be able to see better, but I'll feel assured things
are as bad as they look."
     "Er--" Gham started.
     "And you!" Spaulding exclaimed, making her jump.  "Do you take this
man, in sickness and in health, in poorness and in wealth, in windows and
in macintosh, until you decide to drop him and run off with me?"
     "I do," Gham told him.
     "Then, by the authority vested in me, I call for wardrobe to send me
a more dignified vest, then pronounce you husband and wife," Spaulding
said.  "I may kiss the bride."
     "Hey, what do you think you're doing?" Jerriphrrt asked, putting an
arm up to keep Spaulding away from Gham.
     "The last episode of one of the worst parodies I've ever been in,"
Spaulding retorted.  "Why, if I had another pair o'dese, I'd flush them!"
     "He's got a point," Slithis, the Best Male, noted.
     "Don't encourage him," Benjen, the Bridesmaid, told Slithis.
     "Why I--mmmmmmph!"
     Jerriphrrt failed entirely to complete his sentence, as his attention
was completely taken by Gham's kiss.  Chicobaldi immediately brought a roll
of tickets up to the dais, and Spaulding began calling out numbers.
     "Now serving number four-hundred and seven!" he exclaimed.  "Four
hundred and seven!  Twenty!  Ninety-one!  Pi!"
     "What number do you got?" Ronald, in the audience, asked.
     "Three," Norman replied.  "I hate these alien counting systems."

                                     -~-_-

     The door to Satan T. Lucifer Jones's inner office opened, and Susan B.
Jones stepped in, expecting the worst.  Guillotines, impalement spikes,
iron maidens, a TV set that could only tune in the Family Channel -- all
these things were mysteriously not present in the room.  There were plenty
of flames, sure, but those were essentially decorative.
     Satan looked up as she entered, his face curiously expressionless.  He
motioned for her to come the rest of the way in and approach his desk.  As
she did, the doors shut behind her.
     "Sir," Susan said, "I'm ready for my punishment."
     "Punishment?" he asked.  "Ah, yes, your punishment.  In a bit."  He
stood, and she noticed he was wearing his most elegant flame-red tuxedo.
"I've read your official report on losing the Spam smuggling route to
Earth.  Very thorough, very impressive.  No attempts to shift the blame to
others... unusual, but appreciated."  His nostrils flared, and the strains
of Spoonman's "Devil Came Down to Georgia (Big Spoon Incoherence Mix)"
wafted from the office speakers.  "Do you have anything to say in your
defense?  Anything?"
     "No," she answered, looking down.
     "Well, I do."
     She looked up, surprised.
     "The circumstances of the battle were extraordinary," Satan said, "and
your forces were outnumbered.  Plus, there was an Author involved, and
they've screwed my life up, made me mad, made me mean mad, more times than
I can count.  You see, I understand.  And..."
     "Sir?"
     "I'm... I'm... oh, Hell(tm).  Susan, I love you, and I want the
underworld to know!"
     "Sir!"
     "Call me Satan.  Or Lumpy-kins, whichever you prefer."
     "Si-Satan... I never knew...."
     "Marry me, Susan!" Satan pleaded, getting down on one knee.  "Make me
the happiest fallen angel with dark, evil plans for claiming every soul in
this universe and in 000SUPERGUY!"
     Bagelos's words, spoken only days ago, came to her, unbidden.  Two
people, having worked together for so long, could hardly not feel something
for one another....
     "You said something about punishment," Susan prompted.  Satan got out
his remote control and pointed it at the office wall.  With a click of a
button, the wall slid back to reveal a bedroom furnished in early
Inquisition, complete with stretching rack, maggots, and a heart-shaped
hot-tub filled with boiling oil.
     "What do you think?" Satan asked, mischeviously.
     She grabbed him by the neck and lifted him to eye level.  They kissed,
various portions of their bodies spontaneously starting to smoke.
     "Take me, you steaming hunk of he-devil," she ordered.  He picked her
up and carried her in the direction of the hot tub, their clothing going up
in flames as he did.

                                     -~-_-

     "Pope's Log, Stardate... um... hey, Hagen, what's today's date?" Joe
Don I asked.
     "Friday," Cardinal Hagen, sitting at the tactical station, doing
nothing that could remotely be considered tactical, aside from throwing
ping pong balls at Cardinal Van Cleef, who was sitting in the navigator's
chair, said.
     "Friday," Joe Don I repeated.  "As a reward for my divine help in the
final battle against the Shadoes, and to, as I was told, 'get me the
Hell(tm) off the station,' I was given my own ship, which used to belong to
some guy called Bagelos until it was reposessed to pay for damages.  I have
renamed it the V.S.S. Vatican II, and am in the process of redesigning the
ship's specs so that it resembles the Vatican Building that was destroyed
in the last series."
     "Hey, Joe," Sajon interrupted, from his place at the Helm.  "What
course should I set?"
     "I have, against my better judgment, accepted among the crew certain
individuals who have, among their few virtues, knowledge of how to fly a
starship.  Helmsman Sajon is one of them, as is our doctor, Cerulean
Brazier..."
     "Look out!" Dr. Brazier yelled.  "The arch-toad of Nelfendor is about
to hop!"  He leapt and grabbed a tricorder out of Hagen's hands, proceeding
to stomp on it until it was in pieces.
     "...our communications officer, Lenin..."
     "Hailing frequencies, they are open, da!"
     "...our science big shot, Professor Parsasentence..."
     "Sir, according to my calculations..."
     "...our loveable little droid, TH1K1..."
     "I can't understand why my flesh-eating virus failed on Sajon," TH1K1
squeaked, too fast to be understood.  "Perhaps if I set the warped engines
to explode...."
     "Our incredibly violent guy, Greez Hyperiok..."
     BOOM!
     "His mother, Priscilla Fussbonnet..."
     "Greez, stop that!"
     "But ma..."
     "And our resident shapeshifter and talk d.j., Blob..."
     "Sir, my calculations..." Parsasentence interrupted.
     "It's Blob's turn for a line," Joe Don I said, sternly.
     "Thank you, Captain," Blob said.  "I--"
     "But I have accepted them, and I'm sure they'll do fine," Joe Don I
completed.  "Now, Navigator!"
     "Your Holiness!" Cardinal Van Cleef exclaimed.
     "Set a course for Planet Schlitz!  Warp Ten Zillion!"
     "Aye, sir!"
     The VSS Vatican II shot into overly-hyped space, leaving Fredonia 5
far behind.

                                     -~-_-

     "Ah, it's good to be back!" the Swede exclaimed, as he put his shoe-
shaped Plot over his foot.
     "You were gone?" the Man with Two First Names asked.
     "Dohw!"
     "I'm going down to the office, see what I missed," Janice said,
hurrying out.

                                     -~-_-

     "We're on course for Time Central," Lark Purree, Time Agent 90210,
reported.  He patted his sideburns, Sid and Johnny, neither of whom got
much screen time in this series, due to budget constraints.  They gleeped,
sullenly.
     "Very good," Floyd Cobalt, in the command chair, replied.  Around the
bridge, various Time Agents relaxed, played cards, watched Radar Vogel
videos, drank, or did several of these activities in combination.
     "The prisoners are requesting better quarters," Thelona Wyndingrode
reported.
     "But we put them in our best cell!" Mapa Marbles protested.  "It's got
carpet, satellite TV, a fully-stocked wet bar, and munchies!"
     "They say they'd rather move to a worse cell, so long as that cell
isn't guarded by Zark Flyby."
     "Is he taking potshots at them again?" Floyd asked.
     "That's what Logan/Meester says," Thelona reported.  "Though
Sajanseel, Mu'tard and the Duck say it has more to do with his refusal to
change the channel from 'Dukes of Hazzard' when 'Star Trek' is on."
     "Typical," Ronald Hastings commented.
     "Someone remind me why these two are here?" Thelona asked.
     "I invited them," Lark said.  "They'll be enrolling at Interstellar
University, majoring in Space Heroics."
     "What?" Floyd asked.  "*Them?*"
     "You say that as though we weren't worthy," Norman whined.
     ((E.T.A. at Time Central in six hours,)) BRENDA told them.  ((Anyone
mind if I shut down my sensors for a while?  You people are starting to bug
me.))
     "Um... go ahead," Floyd said.
     The H.M.S. Shannon II continued cruising through overly-hyped space
towards Time Central.

                                     -~-_-

     "It's good of you to give us a lift," Tarrfel t'Krodkzik commented as
the ship lurched into overly-hyped space.  "Right, Bata?"
     "Right," Bata confirmed.  "Of course, I knew you'd ask me that."
     "Not a problem," Lyle Hitowers said.  "Thanks to my wise investment
choices prior to going forward in time by about a decade, I'm now quite
filthy rich, and as such, could afford this luxury starship easily."
     "I can hardly wait to get back to IU," Kissy said.  "Only, I've been
absent for so long... I hope this doesn't affect my graduation!"
     "I've already transmitted a full report of what you've been through,"
Lyle assured her.  "They want you to give the commencement speech for the
entire Ingenue Class."
     "What about you, G.X.P?" Lyle asked.  "Got any plans for the future?"
     "Oh, always," Varneyloop answered, cryptically.
     "How'd you like to go into our business venture?" Chatsia Slacks
asked.
     "Hmmm?" Varneyloop asked.  "How many of you are in this venture?"
     "Oh, just myself, Bin Shishkabob, and Quirk here," Slacks said.
"We're going to sell stainless-steel faucets to the native populations of
backwater worlds."
     "We can't lose," Shishkabob stated.  "You know how big the faucet
market has gotten!"
     "This is my only line," Quirk grumbled.
     "Okay," Varneyloop said.  "Count me in... Chatsia Slacks, Wondrous
Wench of the Way of the Wallopian War Weasels!  Bin Shishkabob the Savage
Plunderer of Time and the Local Zip-Mart!  and Quirk the... um... Feren
Guy!"
     Lyle Hitowers ship continued its merry way through overly-hyped space.

                                     -~-_-

     "It is good that you were able to pick us up on such short notice,
friend Navigator," Quooth said to Zen Navigator as Zen's psychedaelic VW
minibus streaked through overly-hyped space.  Behind Zen and the Wzaxtil,
Zen's two other passengers, Steve Vogel and Bagelos, were consuming
homebrewed beer freely.
     "This is *damn* good stout," Steve said.
     "Indeed," Bagelos agreed.  "With a brew such as this, I, Bagelos,
could launch a plan to take over the universe!"
     "That's all I made of it!" Zen told them.
     Bagelos shrugged and drank some more.  Steve tapped Quooth on the side
of phis multi-segmented arm to get phis attention.
     "Hey, Quooth," he said, "was that *really* your big quest, to tag an
Author?"
     "Indeed, friend Steve Vogel!" Quooth replied, happily.
     "So now that that's done, you're on your way to Wzaxtil?"
     "No!" Quooth answered.  "Now that I have tagged an Author, I can move
on to the Deeper Quest that that touch set me upon!"
     "And I have returned to guide him!" Zen announced.
     "Will you help me, friend Steve and friend Bagelos?" Quooth asked.
     "I, Bagelos, shall," Bagelos replied, "because I, Bagelos, figure if
I, Bagelos, stick around with you long enough, I, Bagelos'll find some way
to gather enough monetary capital to put together an armada with which I,
Bagelos, may conquer the universe!"
     "Plus, he's got nothing better to do," Steve noted.  "And neither do
I."
     "Excellent!" Zen exclaimed.  The minibus continued through overly-
hyped space.  Kind of a trend, huh?

                                     -~-_-

     "What's our status?" Emma Goldman asked.
     "We're ready to enter overly-hyped space, any destination," Benjen
replied.  "All fluids are full, engine is stable, the refrigerator is
stocked, the pizza guy is on the speed dial, and channel 5,143 is showing a
rerun of 'Attack of the 50-Foot Gandhi.'  Plus, for the first time since
the end of the second series, all of the official Renegade Anarchists are
together again.  What more could we want?"
     "Sound insulation," Slithis suggested.  "My room is right next to
Jerriphrrt and Gham's.  And the way they've been going at it ever since
they got in there...."
     "We'll stop at the next space station and get some," James Dean
assured him.  "So, what course shall we set?  Any votes?"
     "Planet Barbados?" Kalvin Certain asked.
     "Nah, we've done that," Emma said.  "How ab--hey, who let you on this
ship?"
     "You did," Kalvin replied.  "You said I fought well, and after a
secret meeting consisting largely of drinking massive quantities of beer
and singing along with the Home Shopping Network, you made me an official
Renegade Anarchist."  He paused.  "Well, that, and the Author is trying to
show every character in the series, and he didn't have anywhere else to put
me."
     "Ah, right," Emma said.  "Okay.  Other suggestions for a destination."
     ((AI World,)) Cylla suggested.
     "Planet Toyzarus!" Kalvin voted.
     "The Oogalaboogala Nebula!" Benjen yelled.
     "DisneyPlanet!" James exclaimed.
     "Hef's Mansion!" Slithis suggested.
     "Right," Emma said.  "Planet Barbados it is.  We're all going to end
up in the Sfstory Home for Forgotten Characters eventually anyway, so we
might as well enjoy our last months."
     "Yay!" the bridge crew cheered.  The Red Emma... well, you know.

                                     -~-_-

     "Well, that's the last of 'em," Captain Spaulding said as he watched
the ships depart through the bay window of Fredonia 5's bridge.  "Good
riddance, I say!  Now I can get back to my bath, and maybe my Beth, or
both, if I can find a Beth in a Booth."
     "Sir," Zeppus Coleslaw said, "I've disbanded the Bruins, and I've seen
Ambassadors DePenn and B'Gosh to their quarters.  Can I go play hackey-sack
now?"
     "Yes, you may," Spaulding told him.  "But only after you do your
homework!  Or meet a nice girl to marry!  Or meet a nice Mary to girdle.
Don't forget to ask if she has a sister."
     "Hey, boss," Chicobaldi said, as Zeppus rushed off.  "I'a think'a we
should'a move'a the station, so thatta they'a don't'a find us again."
     "Amazingly enough, that's a good idea," Spaulding said.  "Where do you
think we should move?  Another planet?"
     Just then, Fredonia 5 shook with the force of a huge impact.
     "Sir!" a voice echoed over Spaulding's Fred-Com.  "This is Commander
Suzarain Ivanovaandayoudon't, your Russian second-in-command.  I was
watching the scopes in my particularly Russian way, and noticed, as
Russians do, that we just got hit by an enormous rock the size of Earth's
moon, at least as it looks from Russia.  In fact, it *is* Earth's moon.
Did I mention I'm from Russia yet?"
     "Didn't Earth's moon get revealed to be a hollow shell protecting the
Cosmic Cuisinart back in the first series?" Spaulding asked.  "And what
nationality are you again?"
     "Russian, sir," Suzarain replied.  "And yes, it was.  This Moon must
have come from a different SFSTORY altiverse.  I'm getting a communication
now."  A monitor next to Spaulding lit up, showing a being who looked
remarkably like Martin Landau.
     "Sorry," the being said.  "We weren't looking where we were going.
Did we break anything?"
     Spaulding didn't answer, instead turning to Lt. Zacko, who had just
cut the belt loops off of Spaulding's suit.
     "Lieutenant!" Spaulding ordered.  "Go fire the engines.  We're getting
out of this series before it's too late."
     Zacko honked his horn, withdrew a sheaf of pink slips from his
pockets, and charged in the direction of the engine room, followed by
Chicobaldi.
     "Okay, so it's too late.  Good night, everybody.  Remember, if you
enjoyed this story, please give generously, and check yourself into the
mental institution of your choice afterward."

IS THIS THE END OF THE LINE FOR SFSTORY?
I MEAN REAL, SFSTORY-ONLY-BASED-SERIES, RATHER THAN ONES THAT ONLY TAKE
     PLACE PART OF THE TIME IN SFSTORY.
WILL MORE GET WRITTEN, EVEN THOUGH THIS IS THE LAST EPISODE TO BEAR THE
     'RENEGADE ANARCHISTS' NAME?
WHAT ABOUT THE RABBITS, GEORGE?

That's it.  This series is over!  No more!  It has ceased to be!  Etc!
Goodnight!  Enjoy the buffet!  And please, keep an eye out for more
SFSTORY, only on... SUPERGUY!
=========================================================================
Date:         Fri, 10 May 1996 12:34:42 -0400
Reply-To:     UCF SUPERGUY List (SUPERGUY at UCF1VM.BITNET)
Sender:       UCF SUPERGUY List (SUPERGUY at UCF1VM.BITNET)
From:         Nopporn Wongrassamee (NoppornW at AOL.COM)
Subject:      SG/SF/MW/WW: Analogs #14

                             Continuity Alert!

It's come to my attention lately that some Authors have been devoting
obscene amounts of creativity to continuity notes. They pad out their
episodes with paragraphs and paragraphs of continuity notes, practically
replacing their prologues with the monsters. Robotech Master speculated
that the Superguy Listserv might devolve into an academic discussion of
continuity.
        To Hell(tm) with continuity!
        I don't know about the other Authors, but I'm going to write my
episodes and not worry about it. If I concern myself with continuity,
I'll mention it in the text of the story and let the Readers figure
things out. They aren't stupid after all.

        "Hey! How do I unsubscribe from Superguy!"

        Well, most of them aren't.

{000SUPERGUY}
        Ah, Los Angeles. It's an interesting place to live; interesting
in the Chinese curse sense of the word. It's got CalForce, beaches
bunnies, beaches, superstars, and superguys. Of course, it also has smog,
traffic jams, one of the highest crime rates in the U.S. inspite of
having a resident superteam, the occaisional riot...
        "Chief?"
        Los Angeles Chief of Police Daniel Doors looked up from his
paperwork at the officer sticking his head through the door. "What is
it?" Doors asked, irritated.
        "Chief, we're getting reports of a riot from the UCLA area," the
officer reported. "It appears to be spreading. What should we do?"
        "A riot?" Doors asked scornfully. "Didn't we make plans for this
sort of thing? You didn't need to come to me for something as commonplace
as a riot."
        "Chief," the officer said, agitation showing, "their are reports
of energy weapons, monsters, and even armored vehicles!"
        "Looks like this is a job for CalForce," Doors mused aloud. The
officer winced at the cliche. "Have you called them?"
        "Yes, sir," the officer replied, nodding. "We got a recording
saying they're out of town. Something about Canada and a plague."
        "I see," said Doors. Damn. His people weren't equipped to handle
supervillains or monsters. That was what superguys were for. Suddenly, he
wished he had fought harder for the Heavy Weapons budget.
        "Chief, maybe we could call those guys in Bakersfield, those
H.E.R.O. Corpses or whatever they're called," the officer suggested.
        "What?!" exclaimed Doors. "Bring in out-of-towners! Never!"
        The entire building shook from the sonic boom left behind by a
passing space fighter. "Call them! Call them!" Doors ordered quickly as
he picked himself up off the floor.


                  Overly Bar-B-Cued Authorial Productions
                                Presents:
                             ______________
                            /\  \      /  /\
                           /__\  \    /  /__\
                |                 \  /
            o   |   o              \/               /\_/ | \
              o | o                    _  __  __      |__/\/
           _ __/ \__ _  /\ |\ | /\ |  / \/ _ (_   /\/\/  \  /
               \ /     /--\| \|/--\|__\_/\__|__)   /  \__/\/\/
              o | o                                _/\/  \_
            o   |   o          Episode #14          \    / \
                |      "Hey, there's some action!"
                         *                  ______
                     *  ** *               /\____/\
                     * **  * *            / /\__/\ \
                       ***   *           /_/_/  \_\_\
                      ***** *            \ \ \__/ / /
                      *******             \ \/__\/ /
                      _*****_              \/____\/

                          by Nopporn Wongrassamee
                              the Evil Author

{000WAROFTHEWORLDS}
        The Enterprise's massive thrusters flared to life, slowing its
approach to Mars. Wedge shaped fighters detached from the ship and fell
ahead in freefall, rushing ahead to meet perhaps half their number in
Martian fighters. Behind the terrestrial aerospace fighters came the
shuttles carrying their precious cargo of mecha and ground troops.
        Missiles leapt forward to screen the Earthlings' approach. The
Martian fighters opened up with lasers, destroying a good many of the
missiles. One missile managed to reach a fighter, blowing off one of the
wings and sending the Martian tumbling into the great void. Then the
dogfight was on.
        Jon Anderson, pilot of one of the Earth fighters, fired several
thruster in a complicated pattern to evade Martian laser beams. Most
human pilots weren't very good at freefall dogfighting; Earth only just
started building space capable fighters. But Jon was one of the best. As
his fighter aquired a lock, Jon fired his rail gun. The ferrous slug
it fired struck a Martian dead center. The explosion was rather
gratifying.
        Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a Martian blow away one of
his comrades. He spun his own fighter as the Martian spun to meet him. It
was going to be close to see who fired first. He was deprived of the
answer when three missiles struck the Martian from an oblique angle and
blew it to smithereens.
        "Watch your back, Maverick," came a familiar female voice. He
recognized it as belonging to his wingmate, Elizabeth Jewelkowski.
        "Thanks, babe," he replied, looking for more Martian fighters.
There weren't any; the way to Mars was clear, but at the cost of eight
Earth fighters. Considering their inexperience, a near one for one kill
ratio wasn't too bad.
        "Don't call me babe!" Jewelkowski snapped. "My callsign is
Tsunami!"

{223DON'TTRYITAUTHORSONLY}
        "So, tell me my Big Secret(tm)," Mary said.
        "But you already know that," Vicky protested. "You read all about
it over my shoulder."
        "Please, we already did this routine last episode!"
        "Oh, yeah. Sorry," Vicky replied. She paused a moment to collect
her thoughts. "Imagine the Multiverse as a really big tent. Now to keep
this tent from blowing away in the wind or collapsing or whatever, you
drive stakes into the ground to hold the tent stable. You and your other
four selves are those tent stakes, Mary."
        "That's it?" Mary asked, unimpressed.
        "There's more," Vicky continued. "It is extremely difficult but
not impossible for you and your counterparts to travel from altiverse to
altiverse. The Multiverse will resist your transaltiversal travel because
your location is very important to the Multiverse's stability. If you or
your counterparts could move from altiverse to altiverse freely, all
sorts of havoc would result."
        "Okay, but why are all these guys chasing after my counterparts?"
Mary asked. "Why not me?"
        "Well, the Author's Altiverse already has so many travel
restrictions placed on it that regular demons of any sort can't get in
easily and Heck demons not at all," Vicky explained. "As for the others,
apparently alot of energy is grounded out through you. Each of you
grounds out a different cosmic force and if you knew about it, you could
wield the force running through you. If any of these villains gained
control of one of these flows, they could in theory control the flow
throughout the entire Multiverse."
        "And if I controled it?" Mary asked.
        "You might be able to go toe to toe with Elvis himself and win,"
Vicky said. "Assuming the Multiverse survived the fight. You're not going
to do that are you?"
        "Hell(tm), no!" Mary exclaimed, taken aback.
        "Hmm, okay. This is interesting. Simply learning this information
allows you to start wielding your powers," Vicky added.
        "Really?" Mary made a fist and concentrated. Her fist took on a
bluish glow. "Hey, maybe I can put a stop to all these Authorial Wars and
get all the Authors to concentrate on posting stories. That way, we'll
get all the crossovers finished and have everyone in continuity and...
and..."
        "Mary! We're Musae!" Vicky said shocked. "Well, I'm a Muse and
you've become a Main Character. But anyway, we do NOT interfere in AA
plots!"
        "Oh, yeah," Mary sighed wistfully, letting the glow disipate, "I
forgot."

{000SUPERGUY}
        Peering around the corner, Mary saw a pitched battle in progress.
Imps and Imperial Storm Troopers blazed away at each other. In the middle
of it all, a Cyberdemon traded fire with a Summoner Omnimech. A straffing
A-10 added to the general carnage. Mary wouldn't have minded the video
game creatures killing each other off, but the ArchVile that was running
around kept ressurecting everyone right and left.
        "This is incredible," Paul said to no one in particular (I am NOT
doing that joke), "I've seen elements from at least 10 games I'm familiar
with plus those from several I'm not..."
        Mary sent an elbow into his face, knocking Paul onto his back.
She didn't like him. "Professor Weston, is there anyway to shut off the
Dimensional Portal?" Mary asked as the Death Star floated by overhead.
        "Well, if I can get back to my lab, I might be able to shut the
Portal down," Weston replied as the Death Star exploded.
        "But to get back to the lab, we gotta go through that!" Roger
Wilco said, gesturing at the monster mellee in progress with the magazine
in his hand. "We'll never make it!"
        "Say, what's that?" Paul asked as he got off the ground,
indicating Roger's magazine.
        "This? I think it's a magazine about computer games," Roger
replied.
        "Computer games?" Mary echoed, snatching the magazine from Roger.
She flipped through it. "Oh what's the use?" she muttered. "It's got
nothing but cheat codes. No information on how how to deal with these
things."
        "Cheat codes?" Roger asked, interested. Maybe this way, he'll be
able to breeze through his next adventure.
        "Yeah, like this one for Doom," Mary remarked. "What use is it?
If I say, IDKFA, I won't..." Mary was suddenly interupted by a flash of
black light enveloping her. When it subsided, she found herself dripping
with firepower. "Huh, guess I was wrong," she said, hefting her newly
acquired BFG-9000.
        "Hey, it worked!" Paul exclaimed. "IDKFA!" Nothing happened.
"Huh, weird."
        "Whatever," Mary said dismissively. "C'mon Professor, we're going
back to your lab." She stepped around the corner and opened fire.

{000METAWORLD}
        Something was wrong. Mary's intuition was screaming like crazy
that she was in danger. Looking around the gas station she had stopped
at, both with her magical and mundane senses, Mary saw nothing out of
order. But still...
        "Something bothering you?" Hazel asked from where she rested on
the motorcycle.
        "You mean aside from cleaning cat vomit off my shirt?" Mary asked
back as she straddled the bike.
        "I told you I didn't like motorcycles," Hazel remonstrated. "But
I know that's not bothering you."
        "How can you tell?" Mary asked, fiddling with her helmet.
        "Mary, I'm your Familiar," the cat replied. "I'm supposed to be
able to tell these things about you."
        "You're my grandmother's Familiar," Mary pointed out.
        "Yes, but I'm with YOU right now," Hazel corrected. "By the way.
We're getting some funny looks from the mundanes..." As if to prove her
point, a man was walking up to them.
        Mary magical senses felt that there was something odd about this
man. Unfortunately, it had been so long since she had spent much time
around mundanes that she couldn't quite say what it was. However, it
seemed...familiar.
        "Can I help..." she began. Mary was interupted when the man
belted her across the jaw, sending her sprawling to the ground.
        "Hey!" exclaimed the gas station attendent, "you can't just..."
He broke off and dove for cover when Mary's assailant drew an Uzi from
his coat and sprayed bullets in his general direction.
        "Mary! Wake up!" Hazel said urgently, licking Mary's cheek. At
the moment, Hazel wished she had a pair of functional hands. Mary stirred
with a groan.
        Seeing his target start to wake up, the hunter pulled a hypo from
his coat and injected a fast acting sedative into Mary's system.
Satisfied that Mary would be unconscious for a good long while, he hauled
the unconscious girl to his car and stuffed her into the trunk. Then he
drove off, ignoring the cat who hopped in at the last minute.

{000SFSTORY}
        "Ooooh," groaned the Interloper as a pair of Heck demons pulled
him out of the impression in the ground he had made when Anonymech had
blasted him. (whew!)
        "Ah, so you're awake!" Sissyphus observed. "You two! Take him
back to the Cruiser. I want to interrogate him once we're under way!"
        "Wait a minute," the Interloper protested groggily. "What
happened to my ship?"
        "That Anonymech guy took it," the demon to the left replied.
        "Yeah, he took it," the other concured.
        "My ship," the Interloper mumbled, then more loudly, "He stole my
ship! You, SissyFoot! I want yours, now!"
        "Sissyphus!" SissyFoo...er, Sissyphus snarled in reply. "And why
should I give you my ship? You're my prisoner!"
        Planting both feet firmly on the ground, the Interloper hauled
his guards off their feet and tossed them aside like rag dolls. "Because
I gave myself more than a big ship when I started out," he growled, "and
because I doubt you'll enjoy being pounded into a basketball!" He grabbed
Sissyphus by the neck and lifted him off his feet. "Understood?"
        "Coach or first class?" Sissyphus squeaked.

WILL THE INTERLOPER CHOOSE COACH OR FIRST CLASS?

WHY DID THE CHEAT CODE WORK FOR MARY AND NOT PAUL?

WHERE IS THE HUNTER TAKING MARY?

WHERE'S WW AND SF MARY?

DOES MARY'S BIG SECRET(tm) MAKE ANY SENSE?

Find out, only on...SUPERGUY!!!

-------------------------------------------------------------------------
Copyright Notice:
This story is (C)opyright by Nopporn Wongrassamee in 1996. All rights
 reserved.

Send feedback to: NoppornW at aol.com

"They were the bad guys, we were the good guys, and they made a very
satisfying thump whan they hit the floor!"
                                          - G'kar, Babylon 5
=========================================================================
Date:         Tue, 21 May 1996 22:02:30 -0400
Reply-To:     UCF SUPERGUY List (SUPERGUY at UCF1VM.BITNET)
Sender:       UCF SUPERGUY List (SUPERGUY at UCF1VM.BITNET)
From:         Nopporn Wongrassamee (NoppornW at AOL.COM)
Subject:      SG/SF/MW/WW: Analogs #15

{000WAROFTHEWORLDS}
        The Martian air shimmered for a moment and then there was a blast
of light and sound akin to cheap '60s style special effects. When it
cleared, two heavily armed Heck demons with oversized yellow beaks could
be seen.
        "Well, we're here Heh'kul," the first one said, scanning the
surrounding desert. "Where's our target?"
        "She's not here, Jeh'kul," the second  replied. "Neither is the
base camp she should be in. Perhaps we are in the wrong place?"
        Jeh'kul snorted. "Typical. Someone obviously got our coordinates
mixed up. Now we'll have to search this whole rock to find this Mary
Sinclair. Now...what's that noise?" There was a roaring in the background
that was getting louder.
        Before Heh'kul could reply, the two of them were burned to a
crisp and then squashed flat as the Earth-built shuttle came to a
vertical landing right on top of them. Several other shuttles, identical
except for the lettering on there sides. A door opened on the first
shuttle and a ramp was lowered from it. A WarHorse mecha walked out, and
its pilot scanned the terrain for enemies.
        "We're heeeere," Private Mary Sinclair sang.

                  Overly Bar-B-Cued Authorial Productions
                                Presents:
                             ______________
                            /\  \      /  /\
                           /__\  \    /  /__\
                |                 \  /
            o   |   o              \/               /\_/ | \
              o | o                    _  __  __      |__/\/
           _ __/ \__ _  /\ |\ | /\ |  / \/ _ (_   /\/\/  \  /
               \ /     /--\| \|/--\|__\_/\__|__)   /  \__/\/\/
              o | o                                _/\/  \_
            o   |   o          Episode #15          \    / \
                |            "Here be demons"
                         *                  ______
                     *  ** *               /\____/\
                     * **  * *            / /\__/\ \
                       ***   *           /_/_/  \_\_\
                      ***** *            \ \ \__/ / /
                      *******             \ \/__\/ /
                      _*****_              \/____\/

                          by Nopporn Wongrassamee
                              the Evil Author

{000SUPERGUY}
        Mary peered around the corner. It was all clear. She found out
the hard way that the Doom cheat code for invulnerability only worked on
things that came from the Doom game. The ED-209 had only grazed her, but
it had hurt like Hell(tm). On the other hand, the ED-209 didn't stand up
very well to her Plasma Rifle either. The nanites running through her
system had repaired all of her injuries, so she wasn't too badly off.
        She was going to have to ask Dr. Chives about that sometime.
        "All clear," she told the others, "the lab should just be a few
doors down. C'mon."
        Mary led the way, Plasma Rifle ready. Paul Baines, Professer
Westin, Dr. Laura Chives, and Roger Wilco crept after her. It was touch
and go for a moment when a squad of SS troops rounded the far corner, but
a passing T-72 tank came through a wall, ran over the SS, and kept going
through the other wall.
        In any case, they made it into the lab safely enough. The portal
had grown some since they'd last saw it. One wall was just gone from here
to several floors above the lab. Equipment blinked wildly.
        "Well, it's nice knowing you guys," Roger called, mindful of the
Space Quest 6 cheat book in his infinitely deep pockets. "Bye!" With that
he was gone through the portal.
        "Can you shut the portal down, Professor?" Mary asked, turning to
Westin.
        Westin nodded as he dithered over the equipment. "Give me a
moment, here," he said. "I'll have done in a moment."
        "Do we have a moment?" Paul asked.
        Westin shrugged. "What could go wrong?" he asked back.
        In response to this summons, Frobozz's Muse went into immediate
action. Hordes of little red, winged imps began pouring out of the
portal. Mary opened up with her Plasma Rifle, Paul with his pistol. The
imps flew around, tossing fire bolts and hitting each other more often
than not. Westin dived behind a console. Chives watched the action like a
kid fascinated by seeing fireworks for the first time. When one of the
imps got too close, Laura reached out and grabbed it by the neck. Making
sure that the others were too busy to notice her, Chives squeezed
slightly and snapped the imp's neck. She tossed it aside.
        The portal suddenly collapsed and ceased to exist, leaving only
the huge hole in the wall. And the imps. Paul shot down a few more. The
last made an attack run at Mary, whose weapons seemed to have vanished
with the portal. No matter; a spinning kick to its head was enough to
send its body spinning into a console. The head smacked against the wall
above the console.
        "Nice job, Prof," Mary said, examining herself. There seemed to
be alot of blood on her, but it wasn't any of hers as far as she could
tell.
        "Thanks," Westin mumbled in reply, tossing the plug he was
holding aside as he surveyed the damage.
        "Well, I'm glad that's over," Paul said to no one in particular.
Of course, Murphy wasn't quite gone yet.
        The 100 ton Dire Wolf came stomping into view. Spotting them, it
turned towards them and opened fire.

{223DON'TTRYITAUTHORSONLY}
        Mary and Vicky circled each other warily. Mary jabbed several
fists at Vicky, a probe of her defenses more than a serious attack. Vicky
deflected them handily enough. Vicky did some probing herself, then
lashed out with a kick without warning. Almost faster than the eye could
follow, Mary twisted out of the way, grabbed Vicky's passing leg, twisted
around, and sent Vicky sprawling.
        "You're good," Vicky complemented as she picked herself off the
practice mat. "I've got nearly seventy years of practice behind me and I
don't think anyone has ever beaten me so fast barehanded before."
        "Thanks, Vicky," Mary replied. "The funny thing is that I don't
ever recall taking any martial arts lessons in my life."
        "I thought so," Vicky said. "We'll just chalk that up to the
subconscious leak from your counterparts." Well, that WAS the whole point
of the exercise, after all. There tended to be a subconscious leak of
skills and feelings to and from Mary's counterparts. Sometimes knowledge,
too. Combat skills in particular seemed to get around.
        "I guess that explains the spaceship I built in my apartment,"
Mary mused aloud.
        "You built a spaceship?"
        "You'd be surprised what you can do with some of the 'rubbish'
that people throw away," Mary laughed. "Although how I'm going to get it
out of my apartment is going to be a problem."
        "No problem at all. I'll just have the Shadowlike Cruiser tra...
DUCK!" Vicky shouted as an Imperial Stormtrooper stepped into the room.
Both women hit the floor as the laser bolt passed over harmlessly over
their heads. As she dropped, Mary threw a spell at the Stormtrooper that
literally stopped his heart.
        Mary paused. When had she learned magic? Oh, right, the leak. She
examined the Stormtrooper. "Say, Vicky," she began, "are these things
leaking in from 000SUPERGUY, too?"
        Vicky picked up the laser rifle. The Stormtrooper obviously
didn't need it anymore. "No," she said slowly, "I think it's one of the
mutants that live in the Catacombs." The Catacombs were the lower levels
of the Castle o' Doom, a maze of dark caverns where monstrous mutants
lived. The Evil Author apparently considered them target practice. "They
shouldn't be able to enter the upper levels," she continued, miffed at
being interupted by the explanation from yours truly, "unless someone
left a door open..."
        A sergeant wandered in. A minute later, Mary chambered her newly
acquired shotgun with a loud clack.
        "Looks like this is your first adventure, Mary," Vicky commented.

{000SFSTORY}
        "I just don't understand it," Doctor When muttered to himself.
"All the software is working properly. Doc?"
        "All the hardware's okay, too," Doc Brownish said. "So why can't
we hop from altiverse to altiverse any more?"
        "Have you checked for alterations in the space-time continuum?"
Mary asked. "Or maybe some localized nonstandard phenomena that may
account for..." At this point, the dialogue between the three experts in
pseudoscience devolved into technobabble which, in a fit of mercy not
characteristic of the narrator, shall be mercifully left out.
        "You know what they're saying?" Michael Squire asked Yoga.
        "A clue I haven't," the Semi master replied.
        "Hey! Stop that!" SIK exclaimed as When, Brownish, and Mary began
disassembling his sensor array and inspecting its parts. "I'm ticklish!"
        "I wonder where we are," Squire mused, looking around. They were
in a ghost town of some sort. The buildings were shoddily built and
empty of all life.
        "A clue I haven't," Yoga repeated. "Hmm. Trouble coming sense I."
        Squire took a moment to make sense of the butchered sentence.
"Trouble? This is a ghost town. There's noone here! What trouble could
there possibly be?" Thus did Murphy arrive in 000SFSTORY.
        "LADIES, GENTLEMEN, AND ASSORTED OTHERS!!!" blared a voice that
came from nowhere and everywhere at once. "I'M PETER NOONE AND WELCOME TO
THE THIRD CENTENIAL MECHA CHAMPIONSHIPS!!! TODAY'S MATCH IS ONE HUNDRED
AND EIGHT MECHA IN A TOTAL FREE FOR ALL, COMPLETE WITH LIVE FIRE!!! TAKE
A LAST LOOK AT SHODDY CITY, FOLKS!!! IT'LL BE LEVELED AT THE END!!!
HARHARHAR!!!"
        "THAT IT WILL, PETER!!!" replied a second voice, definitely
female. "HI, I'M HEATHER NOONE (no relation!)!!! AS YOU CAN SEE, OUR
EAGER CONTESTENTS HAVE APPARENTLY SHOT DOWN THE GATES AND ARE NOW BEATING
THE CRAP OUT OF EACH OTHER!!!"
        Thumping could be heard in the distance, like the footfalls of
giants in armor. ALOT of giants. Explosions could be heard.
        "We gotta get outta here!" Squire exclaimed.
        All eyes went to the half disassembled SIK. It wasn't going
anywhere, and consequently, neither were they. "We're doomed!" the car
wailed.

{000METAWORLD}
        The car pulled to a halt. "Can I help you, officer?" the hunter
asked politely. For some reason, he didn't seem to notice the police
officer's decidedly nonhuman features like the pink skin, claws, fangs,
and horns. The hunter didn't even glance at the officer's large dog,
which had similar features.
        Must be affirmative action in progress. For paranormals no less.
        "Please step out of the car, please," the officer ordered. His
nametag identified him as "Shahg'ee". The dog's tag said that he was
"Skuub'ee".
        "Is there a problem?" the hunter inquired as he stepped out.
        Taking advantage of the distraction, Hazel leapt up to the top of
the rear seat and fumble with the catch that swung the seat down so you
could access the trunk. Not easy, when you only have your mouth to work
with.
        The sudden violence that erupted outside prodded Hazel to work
faster. The hunter seemed to have figured out that the two Heck demons
outside weren't exactly your average paranormal (whatever that was). With
a click, the seat swung down. Hazel entered and found the unconscious
Mary scrunched up inside.
        "Mary!" Hazel called. "Mary, wake up!" Frustrated, Hazel trotted
over and began analyzing Mary's system. There was still enough of the
sedative in Mary's bloodstream to keep her under for a while yet. But as
Mary's Familiar, Hazel could help Mary's body clear the sedative faster.
All that was needed was a little time.
        The seat swung up, locking Hazel in the trunk with Mary. The car
lurched forward a moment later. Sighing, Hazel kept on with what she was
doing.

{000WAROFTHEWORLDS}
        "So this is Mars," Mary murmured, gazing at the Martian landscape
that surrounded the camp and the shuttles.
        "Well, its one of Mars' deserts, anyway," Paul commented as he
took a seat beside her.
        It was rather cool out by human standards, but still hot by
Martian standards. Or so Dr. Andersen said. It made Mary wonder what the
planet's temperate regions were like.
        "I would've thought that the Martians would have contested our
landing zone," Mary said.
        "They might have," Paul agreed, "if they had a base close enough
to respond. Which is why this LZ was picked in the first place. For some
reason, the Martians haven't dispached any mecha or fighters to fight us.
Strange considering that they must KNOW by now that we've landed."
        Mary nodded absently. The Enterprise had made Mars orbit and so
had the fighters that had survived combat with their Martian
counterparts. They were keeping watch overhead.
        Movement caught her eye. Suddenly she had her gun in her right
hand and her comlink in her left. "Sinclair to Control. I've spotted
movement on the camp perimeter. I haven't positively IDed it, but it was
big. Over." Paul drew his sidearm and began scrutinizing the terrain.
        The comlink was silent for a moment. "Sinclair, this is Major
Greyson. Are you sure? Sensors aren't picking up anything that might be
mecha except what we brought with us. Over."
        "It's not THAT big, sir," Mary replied. "I'm didn't get too clear
a look at it, but I'm estimating that it's only slightly bigger than the
average human being. Over." One of the WarHorses on sentry duty turned
and started in Mary's direction.
        "Sinclair, I'm sending one of the WarHorses to you," Greyson told
her. The WarHorse stopped behind Mary and Paul and began scanning the
terrain. "If there is something out..."
        Suddenly, a green creature popped up from behind a hillock Mary
wouldn't believe a child could hide behind. It was about eight feet tall,
and was startlingly humanoid. It just had an extra pair of arms, a tail,
and a lizard-like head. It clutched a spear in one four fingered hand and
was jabbering something that Mary couldn't understand. Then it bowed
obsequiously...at the WarHorse.
        It didn't look anything at all like the Martians that had
periodically invaded Earth.

OKAY, WHAT'S GOING ON?

WHY DOESN'T THIS MARTIAN RESEMBLE THE ONES THAT INVADED EARTH?

WILL MW MARY WAKE UP IN TIME?

IS SG MARY AND COMPANY TOAST?

IS SF MARY AND COMPANY TOAST?

ARE THE CASTLE O' DOOM MUTANTS TOAST?

Find out in future episodes of Analogs, only on...

SUPERGUY!!!

-------------------------------------------------------------------------
Copyright Notice:
This story is (C)opyright by Nopporn Wongrassamee in 1996. All rights
 reserved.

Send feedback to: NoppornW at aol.com

"They were the bad guys, we were the good guys, and they made a very
satisfying thump whan they hit the floor!"
                                          - G'kar, Babylon 5
=========================================================================
Date:         Fri, 7 Jun 1996 01:05:45 -0400
Reply-To:     UCF SUPERGUY List (SUPERGUY at UCF1VM.BITNET)
Sender:       UCF SUPERGUY List (SUPERGUY at UCF1VM.BITNET)
From:         Nopporn Wongrassamee (NoppornW at AOL.COM)
Subject:      SG/SF/MW/WW: Analogs #16

{000SUPERGUY, a future}
        "Now, Weaver," John Smith was saying as he programmed the
temporal coordinates into the Time Projector, "you sure you understand
what you have to do?"
        "Absolutely," Weaver replied. She was standing on the Projector's
transport pad. "Would you like me to repeat it back to you verbatim or
use my own words?"
        "Hmm, no than..." John was interupted when the entire room, the
entire station shook as if an earthquake had just struck them.
        "Perhaps, Smith, that you should send Weaver backtime as soon as
you can," Sunburst suggested.
        Delta rushed in, dragging a silvery figure dressed in starfield
black. "I felt him come in," she explained quickly. "I think he's hurt."
        Sunburst leaned over and felt the Avatar's forehead. "Gateway?
Can you hear me?"
        "Sunburst?" Gateway whispered. Then stronger. "Sunburst, it's all
gone. The entire altiverse. Only Tesseract Station's left and I don't
think the shields will hold much longer..." His voice faded. There was a
flash of black light and he was gone. The station shook again.
        Sunburst held back tears, but her face made ship armor seem soft.
Another old friend gone, and the whole altiverse too, apparently. She
stood and turned to John. "Smith. Transport. Now." she ordered tersely.
Another shake; she didn't noticed. Or cared.
        "Right, coordinates entered," John acknoledged quickly. He
stabbed a pair of buttons. "Transporting!" There was a technicolor flash
and then Weaver was gone, too.
        An instant later, so was Tesseract Station.

{the Multiverse, Positive Branch}
        AH WELL, 729SENTIENT sighed, I ALWAYS LIKED THAT AVATAR.
        THAT WAS A FUTURE VERSION AND YOU KNOW IT, 999SENTIENT snorted.
YOU STILL HAVE THE PRESENT ONE.
        HEY, IT'S THE PRINCIPLE OF THE THING, 729SENTIENT said
defensively. I DON'T LIKE MY AVATARS DYING, EVEN IF IT'S ONLY IN FUTURE
WHAT IF SCENARIOS.
        TOO BAD THIS EMERGENCY ELIMINATES THAT FUTURE FROM EVER OCCURING,
230CONSCIOUS said regretfully. I RATHER LIKED THE IDEA OF HUMANITY RULING
THE GALAXY.
        IF WE DON'T RESOLVE THE EMERGENCY, IT'LL ELIMINATE US, TOO, said
666SELFAWARE sourly. He turned to the their GM. ARE YOU SURE WE CAN'T FIX
THIS OURSELVES?
        QUITE SURE, 000SELFAWARE assured him. IT WILL BE IMPOSSIBLE TO
MAINTAIN AN AVATAR LONG ENOUGH FOR HIM/HER/IT TO REPAIR THE DAMAGE. I
HOPE THE NEWS OF HER HOME'S DESTRUCTION SUPPLIES ENOUGH MOTIVATION FOR
WEAVER TO DO WHAT SHE MUST.

                  Overly Bar-B-Cued Authorial Productions
                                Presents:
                             ______________
                            /\  \      /  /\
                           /__\  \    /  /__\
                |                 \  /
            o   |   o              \/               /\_/ | \
              o | o                    _  __  __      |__/\/
           _ __/ \__ _  /\ |\ | /\ |  / \/ _ (_   /\/\/  \  /
               \ /     /--\| \|/--\|__\_/\__|__)   /  \__/\/\/
              o | o                                _/\/  \_
            o   |   o          Episode #16          \    / \
                |     "Crossover Part 3 of whatever"
                         * "The Plot Device"______
                     *  ** *               /\____/\
                     * **  * *            / /\__/\ \
                       ***   *           /_/_/  \_\_\
                      ***** *            \ \ \__/ / /
                      *******             \ \/__\/ /
                      _*****_              \/____\/

                          by Nopporn Wongrassamee
                              the Evil Author

{000SUPERGUY, the "present"}
        Paul Baines watched this altiverse's version of Mary and who
appeared to be Elizabeth Jewelkowski talking quietly to each other. They
were only a short distance away and Paul could have eavesdropped
magically, but he was already sure what Mary was telling Liz: a slight
distortion of the truth that Bane had expertly fed her. Apparently,
Paul's possessed counterpart had told Mary that he had done "something"
to Mary's mother.
        "Wow, what a mess," commented a redhead as she walked up. She was
clad in a spandex uniform similar in design to Liz's. Paul recognized her
immediately. She was Mindlocke, this altiverse's version of...
        He did a double take. No...it couldn't be.
        Mindlocke saw him and nearly did a doubletake of her own. She
recovered, grabbed his arm, and dragged him out of eavesdropping range of
the others. "There you are!" she hissed. "Do you have any idea how long
I've been looking for you!"
        "Melanie?" Paul whispered back in astonishment. He was right; her
quantum signature was identical to hers. "What are you DOING here? For
that matter, what were you doing here BEFORE I arrived?"
        "Listen, cousin," Melanie Baines replied, "when the Family heard
that you disappeared, Lazarus sent me after you. Just to make sure I
found you, I was sent to when and where you would arrive. Something went
wrong and I went back in time alot farther than was intended. I've been
making a living for the past year as a...a...superguy."
        "Yeah, I've seen the news," Paul said wryly. "How did you find
out where I went?"
        "Er, Lazarus questioned your friend, Mary," Melanie answered.
        Paul winced. He threw a quick glance at this altiverse's Mary.
"Is she okay?" he asked. He knew what his undead ancestor's "interviews"
were like.
        "Mary? She's fine so far as I know."
        Unnoticed, Dr. Laura Chives eavesdropped on both conversations.
She was out of earshot of both pairs. Out of earshot of humans anyway.
Her hearing was much better that human-normal.

{000METAWORLD}
        Darkness. She opened her eyes. More darkness. Judging by the
darkness, the general rocking of her confines, and the muted background
noise, Mary figured that she was in the trunk of someone's car. Her head
hurt.
        Something nuzzled her cheek. Something...furry?
        "Thank Isis, you're awake," Hazel said.
        "Ow, wish I wasn't," Mary groaned, feeling the bump on her head.
"What's going on? Where am I?"
        "You've been kidnapped and stuffed into the kidnapper's trunk,"
Hazel told her. "As to where we are right now, I haven't a clue."
        "Okay, I suppose the first order of business is to get out of
here," Mary thought aloud. There was a bump and gravity seemed to change.
The car was mounting a ramp, she thought. The car leveled out and pulled
to a stop. Well, getting out wouldn't be a problem; they'd arrive to
wherever they were going. Mary readied a few spells.
        The trunk popped open, revealing the man who had knocked her out
at the gas station. She hit him with an Instant Sleep spell right away.
The man staggered back and collapsed. Mary leapt out of the trunk...
        ...and jerked to a halt as a hand closed around around her throat
and held her up off the ground. She automatically threw another Instant
Sleep spell at the man holding her. It had no effect.
        Then her magical senses caught up with her. The "man" holding her
was in fact was one of those GURPS androids like the one that had killed
her mother. Other things caught her eye. She, her captors, and the car
were in some kind of elongated metal room. At one end, a ramp was closing
up. There was a pool of some silvery liquid nearby.
        "You put her down!" ordered Hazel as she leapt out of the car.
        The android studied the Familiar for an moment. It apparently
decided that the cat was harmless, because it dragged a thrashing Mary to
the pool and forced her head first into the pool, ignoring the cat trying
to scratch its leg off. The silvery metal oozed over her, clinging to the
skin and moving beneath her clothing. A few seconds later, the metal
oozed off her head, letting her breath again. The android released her.
        Mary moved to jump away, but the android chirped a series of
musical notes that Mary recognized as a modem signal froze her in place.
It wasn't her fear or anything; the liquid metal covering her neck to
foot solidified itself, immobilizing her on the floor.
        A few minutes later, the cargo shuttle she was in lifted off and
was cruising over the Pacific.

{000SFSTORY}
        "Ooh! A head shot! That's gotta hurt, Peter," the woman on the
screen was saying.
        "I have to agree with you, Heather," Peter, the man sitting next
to her was saying. The picture changed to the mecha filled battle field.
"Looks like the Bwahamaster pilot is alone in his sector. He's moving
towards the center of the city. Who do you suppose he'll run into,
Heather?"
        "I don't know, Peter," the other sports caster replied. "Let's go
take a look see, shall we?" The image changed to an empty street. "Well,
looks like there's nobody here. Hey, what's that?" She pointed to
something in the corner of the image. The scene shifted again to show
another street. There was a partially disassembled vehicle frantically
being reassembled by two men.
        "Well, Heather, looks to me like some fans wandered into the
battlefield," Peter commented. "Looks like our boys are gonna stomp some
ground pounders, too."
        "And here comes the Bwahamaster...hey! Who's that?" Heather
asked. A figure ran out in front of the Bwahamaster. There was a flash of
light and the big mecha tripped over. "Whoa! That's a lite epee!"
        "I'll be...it is!" agreed Peter. "Ladies, gentlemen, and others,
it appears that we have a surprise obstacle in the field. A full fledged
Semi Knight and she just severed the Bwahamaster's right leg! What do you
suppose this'll do to our ratings, Heather?"
        "They'll go into orbit," she chuckled. "Hey, it looks like all
the surviving mecha pilots are converging on the Knight."
        "Let's get a closeup her while she's still reasonably intact,"
Peter suggested. The view altered, showing a clear view of the Knight's
face.
        Anonymech leapt to his feet. "There she is!" he exclaimed in
glee, pointing to the image on his view screen. He stabbed the intercom
button. "Captain Kirkway! Set course for the planet Solaris Several!"

{000WAROFTHEWORLDS}
        "Well, Doc?" Colonel Wulf asked.
        "One, call me 'Doc' again and I'll slip a laxative into your next
meal," Dr. Gillian Andersen replied. "Two, our guest is definately a
native. His cell structure is close enough to the cell structure of the
local plantlife for a match. Funny thing is that the Martians that have
been invading Earth for the past century have a cell structure that
DOESN'T match the Martian wildlife. If anything, Martian plantlife is so
much like Earth plantlife that I'd say they had common ancestry. I'll
have to wait on the results of the DNA comparison first, though. But I'm
beginning to think that the guys we've been calling Martians aren't
native to Mars."
        "But did you get anything out of the prisoner?" Wulf persisted.
        "Colonel, we don't even speak a common language yet," Andersen
replied. "How could I get anything? I am sure that our GUEST" - she
emphasized that word - "speaks a coherent language. We just haven't
deciphered it, yet."
        "Colonel, message from Krik," said Natalie Kerins as she walked
up to them. She was Wulf's second in command. "He reports a force of
fifteen Martian mecha heading toward our location. They'll be here in
five hours."
        "So they're finally responding," Wulf mused. "Kerins, take out
A and B companies and repel them. Capture any that you can. C company
will remain in camp just in case." He smiled wolfishly. "These Martians
are gonna get a taste of their own medicine, now."

{223DON'TTRYITAUTHORSONLY}
        "Burt Ward," Mary was saying. "It's gotta be Burt Ward."
        Mary and the trio of Vickies with her turned a corner and opened
fire on the mutants waiting there in ambush. The hail of lead, rockets,
and plasma reduced them to a thin red paste.
        "You sure?" the Vicky on Mary's left asked. "Nobody has seen him
around lately. Maybe some Author snatched him up."
        "It has to be him," Mary insisted. "Who else could open the
doors to the Catacombs?"
        "Certainly not Burt Ward," Vicky said on her right. "I changed
all the pass codes since he went to live with the mutants."
        A Spidermind leapt out at them, but a crossfire of rockets and
RPGs from a pair of balconies slagged it. Mary looked up at one of the
balconies and saw a Vicky wave from it.
        "Really?" Mary asked as if nothing had happened. "Then how do we
go about finding the guy who DID open the doors?"
        The Vickies all shrugged. "Up to you, Mary," the Vicky behind her
said. "I'm not the heroine, after all."
        "Thanks alot," Mary replied witheringly. Mary mulled over Vicky's
advice, blasting a few more mutants as she did so. Then she brightened.
"I know, we'll follow that sign!" she declared, pointing at the brightly
lit neon sign that read, GUY WHO OPENED DOOR IN HERE. An equally bright
neon arrow pointed to an open door.
        "Looks good to me," Vicky said.
        "Of course, you realize that this is a trap," Mary said.
        "Of course," all three Vickies chorused, smiling.
        They all strolled into the room, guns ready. A heavy cage dropped
down on them, trapping them within. "Gotcha!" someone said in the
darkness. He was thin, in his early twenties, and had really thick
glasses. "I am..." he began.
        "The Evil Author!" Mary and the Vickies finished in unision.
        "No! I'm NOT the Evil Author," the man disagreed. "I'm not even
one of his many spin off personalities."
        Silence.
        "Then who are you?" Mary asked after some prodding by Vicky.
        "I'm glad you asked," he chuckled in reply. "I'm an Authorial
counterpart," he intoned melodramatically. Close to melodramatically,
anyway. "I am a Galivantan Time Lord! I am...the Plot Device!"
        Mary glanced at Vicky. Vicky glanced at Mary. Vicky glanced at
herselves. They all broke down laughing.

THE PLOT DEVICE???

WHO IS HE KIDDING?

IS WW MARY GOING TO FIGHT MARTIANS?

IS SF MARY GOING TO GET OFF SOLARIS SEVERAL BEFORE ANONYMECH ARRIVES?

WHAT IS GURPS GOING TO DO TO MW MARY?

WHAT IS DR. CHIVES UP TO?

WHERE AND WHEN DID WEAVER WIND UP?

THE PLOT DEVICE???

Find out...somewhere on Superguy!!!

-------------------------------------------------------------------------
Copyright Notice:
This story is (C)opyright by Nopporn Wongrassamee in 1996. All rights
 reserved.

Send feedback to: NoppornW at aol.com

"They were the bad guys, we were the good guys, and they made a very
satisfying thump whan they hit the floor!"
                                          - G'kar, Babylon 5
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