Welcome to Mystery Octagon Theater's message board, where we write our MiSTings. Please read these guidelines:
before you submit a MiSTing post, make sure that you've checked your spelling. Please, as a favor to your long-suffering editor, adhere to the MOT Style Guide as much as possible, DAMMIT.
MOT is usually peopled by six to eight self-insertions. To get into the theater, call dibs when a new episode begins.
How to MiST: when someone posts part of a 'fic to be worked on, reply to that message with your jokes. When a section has been thoroughly worked over, we move on.
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all comments, compliments, and criticism relating to our MiSTings are encouraged and welcome on this board.
we are usually up to our collective ass in interested newbies. To handle these individuals, there is Quasispace, also known as the MOT B-Team. If you're interested in writing for MOT, go there.
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Updates [3/1/2005]: several eps are in the editing stage, and will go up when I next update the site.
The plan, such as it is, is for ep. 205 to be a MiSTing of the script for Metal Gear Solid. Nick is the Mad with TV's Austin as his lackey; theater meat includes Gavok, MMK, TBS, and Wanderer, with n00bs Viper and Zemyla. You may wish to get it started, monkeypants.
Admins: Thomas Wilde (Wanderer), the Black Snotling
Urk.
by Sara, the Wanna Be MM
http://www.fanfiction.net/read.php?storyid=317272
The spiders... OH GOD, THE SPIDERS!!! AAAARRRRGGGHHH!!!
MM, a recommendation. If that tripe freaks you out, I would ask you to go nowhere near any of Superjizz's works. You'd be commiting seppuku, what, maybe eighty times?
8: Thou Shalt Not Write About Randy Spiders, Thou Simply Shalt Not!
by Alair
... come to think of it, where are all the female randy spiders in these fics, anyways? Especially when you consider how much bigger and stronger female spiders tend to be than males, anyways.
9.8: Naughty tentacles are NOT a fact of life. Deal with it.
9.9: Size DOES *NOT* matter.
And finally...
10: Snuff lemon stories is bad. Dismemberment lemon stories is bad. In fact, any lemon story where more that one taboo is carelessly and pointlessly violated is very, very bad.
-Sig
I wish Reality would stop being a bitch and just sucks, because at least I'm getting blown.
Extending this list, because we've barely scratched the surface. :)
by
11: Numerically specifying exactly how many inches a penis is does NOTHING for the person reading your lemon, unless it's in the double digits, in which case, it will make a sane person *cringe*. Similar rules apply for breast sizes.
12: While people *do* talk dirty during sex at times, if you have your characters turn into Snoop Dogg movie extras in a matter of minutes, you're probably doing something very, very wrong.
I think we should compile these a la the SF Mary Sue Test. :)
13. There is no such thing as a self-lubricating ass - and without lube, it fucking *hurts*. For *more* than a millisecond. The only thing on the human body that self-lubricates is the vagina (and technically the mouth, I suppose), and even *that* doesn't do it *instantly*.
14. On that note, take at least a basic high school health class before attempting to write porn. Better yet, get some background information on what you're planning to write (and for the love of *god*, if you're a virgin, don't write sex scenes unless you've done *extensive* research.)
15. No tears. Unless there's trauma/agony/rape/extremly strong emotions/etc involved, the only liquid I should be seeing in your lemon scene should be coming from the *other* end of the body.
16. And on *that* note, if I see too *much* liquid from that end, you had damn well better rehydrate the poor characters. And you had better *not* 'redecorate' the room they're fucking in. (Seen *this* one...two or three times that I can recall offhand. One Sailor Moon lemon, one Young Jedi Knights, and I'm pretty sure the 'Robin + Impulse' (?) fic - all MSTed on SVAM.)
17. Even if it's a PWP, give it at least a *hint* of plausibility. Such as the characters involved actually meeting up at some point in canon, or the characters actually being *attracted* to each other... (Read: no damn bestiality, since animals generally *aren't* driven to mate with humans...)
18. Please don't type with one hand during the sex scene. The English language is your friend, not your bitch. You can do that *after* you've got the scene done.
19. Some things just should not be going into or coming out of the human body - and not always just because it's horribly *wrong*. Size matters inasmuch as it needs to be able to *fit*. (On that note, keep the penis size to a sane level; it's supposed to be at least *theoretically* capable of fitting in a normal human vagina, regardless of what you're actually putting it in...)
20. Sexual fetishes that have an aspect of humiliation and degredation is exactly that -- humiliation and degredation. Do not even begin to pretend that normal, sane people would find certain disgusting and perverse acts to be in any way erotic and pleasurable.
-Sig
I wish Reality would stop being a bitch and just sucks, because at least I'm getting blown.
#21: The Japanese have an incredibly repressive; constricting culture. They have almost no social freedoms. They compensate with twisted; perverted fantasies. [Most of] You live in the US, one of the most socially free nations in the world. In short: STOP IT WITH THE CARD CAPTOR SAKURA LEMONS.
#22: On second thought; an incredibly repressive culture is _still_ no excuse. JAPAN; STOP IT WITH THE _WAAAAYYYY_ TOO NUMEROUS CARD CAPTOR SAKURA HENTAI DOUJINSHI. This goes for DiGi Charat and that cute little Japanese version of Smokey The Bear, Ecoco, as well.
#23: Referring to characters as "Cum-filled sluts" _will_ provoke an angry fanbase reaction. Don't act so utterly shocked when you get flamed.
#24: Some characters are not designed for hentai. Do not make small adjustments to change them so. Example: Darkforce is an unimaginably powerful entity that is impossible to completely destroy, can exist in several universes at once, and does not function or even think along the same levels that humans do. It would _not_ take a break from its infathomable plans to go and molest a nubile Numan; even though it does have tentacles. It just wouldn't.
#25: Bending canon is fine, if done with care (Ex: Ranma/Ryouga. Both are technically hetero). Throwing canon out the window; while always frowned upon, might also be acceptable (Ex: Ryoko/Ayeka. Dislike eachother, competing over tenchi, are both hetero. Well; Ryoko is questionable. :\). However; using canon for FREAKING TOILET PAPER is never acceptable, and will generally result in Internet Ignominy (Ex: Seymour/Tidus [Um, ew. I've seen this on FF.net]. Tidus hates him, thinks he is scum, wishes to destroy him, is also competition for Yuna, is hetero. Seymour is UNDEAD, views Tidus as a worthless nuicance, competes for Yuna, competes for Sin, is hetero, if rather effeminate.)
#26: Poo is not sexy. If you think it is, please go to goatse.cx and leave us alone.
> #21: The Japanese have an incredibly repressive; constricting culture. They have almost no social freedoms. They compensate with twisted; perverted fantasies. [Most of] You live in the US, one of the most socially free nations in the world. In short: STOP IT WITH THE CARD CAPTOR SAKURA LEMONS.
> #22: On second thought; an incredibly repressive culture is _still_ no excuse. JAPAN; STOP IT WITH THE _WAAAAYYYY_ TOO NUMEROUS CARD CAPTOR SAKURA HENTAI DOUJINSHI. This goes for DiGi Charat and that cute little Japanese version of Smokey The Bear, Ecoco, as well.
22.5: If you're going to write hentai for shows or manga where the majority of the characters are *prepubescent* (as is a large chunk of the fandom), either write it about the *older* characters (and *only* the older characters) or at least have the decency to make it a future-fic and plausible. (To use the CCS image, Touya/Yukito is fine because they're both...what, late high school/early college-age circa the series? However, don't write something like Syaoran/Sakura unless they're, oh, *out* of grammar school. Preferably out of high school and college, and married to boot. Likewise, the only huge age difference there should *possibly* be in a CCS lemon is if you're doing Fujitaka/Nadeshiko.)
22.75: Exceptions will be made in certain cases if you can pull it off plausibly, but these are few and far between. And the characters still need to be sexually mature enough, at a *bare* minimum.
So. You're going to write a lemon where the characters are based in Japan. This fic is for an English-speaking audience, but hey, you're mad skills anime buff, so you think, hey, using some of that great Japanese "knowledge" you've taken from all your fansubs and putting it all into your lemon would be pretty cool.
Hey, what's the harm in using "-san" instead of Mr. or Mrs. *all the time*? Japanese curses every other chapter? Sure, why not. It'll add flavor, and show that you have the mad knowledge. Hey, for good measure, sprinkle some Japanese greetings wherever you can. You took that one semester of Japanese as a freshman in college, right? Go for it!
Sex scene? Sweet! Yo, dude, let's have the characters say "onegai, onegaiiiii!" over and over again. Sounds authentic! Shifting into Japanese for dirty-talking and squeals of delight for entire *paragraphs*, and capping it all off with a profound, "IKUUUUUUUUUUUUU!"? Hell fucking yes. After all, the CHARACTERS are Japanese, right? It's only right. Why yamete now?
Yeah! That's what you'll do. Write an English fic that's only 40% English! The rest is Japanese, which is inherently so much bettter. That's right. You fic will be SOOOOOOOOOOOOO COOL.
And best of all, YOU'LL BE TRUE TO THE CHARACTERS YOU'RE WRITING ABOUT.
#27: ENGLISH, MOTHERFUCKER! DO YOU SPEAK IT? Yes? Good. Now there's about 250,000 words in the English language. If you feel the need to use a Japanese word (one that has an equivalent word in English) in an English story that will presumably be read by an English-speaking audience, you are NOT being culturally aware. You are NOT being literate. You are being a damn moronic lugan of a fanboy. Go back to high school and re-take English.
#28: If more than 90% of your story's feedback is negative, take a hint and leave the lemon writing to the professionals. Better yet, learn from them. ("Okay, first lesson: Tentacles are NOT sexy. Got that? NOT sexy.")
Baiting people is usually a bad idea. Keep that in mind. If your pride is wounded, fine, nurse it. but don't go out and *try and piss people off* to feel better.
dub
liberally stealing jokes from Sheep in the Big City.
And I mean *real* old. Plus its also been MSTed several times. I thought one of those MSTings was actually on the grey archive. His writing gets worse anyways. If you want to scar yourself; read something of his with demons in it. Curling irons are not meant to go certain places.
Most of the people around here bathe. Some still don't, but most do. And thank the Gods above, the women shave.
In reality, this place is so much like the US it's frightening. No wonder they're worried about their culture eroding away. If people weren't gibbering at me in such an asinine language, I'd swear I was in the US.
And then on top of that, LINK TO US on that board, could you at least give us a passing word of notice?
Because all other *obvious* reasons aside (come on. Try and guess what these reasons are.), the fact tis, we have to sign up and post on their board, but they don't have to sign up to post on ours.
I'm just glad there hasn't anyone "zealous" enough from over there to start a flamewar over here. At least not yet.
Just tell us. So we (or at least I) can stomp on your head beforehand. Thank you.
(I don't think I'm overreacting here, really. But it at least prevents me from having to read things like Pyros' reply. Boshez moi. :) At least that Sereanna person got the message, and they all decided to make a real discussion out of it instead of just jetting over here....)
-Racewing
Paranoid, yes. But only from experience.
>Here I was, very tired late last night, thinking I'd get a chuckle out of some readers with the list, never thinking I'd get the >attention of the Big Man Himself.
Update thingy reposted from the main archive...somewhat...
by
Well, hey all...just typing from one of the info modes of the conglomerate known as the University of West Florida. One of those thoughts in between classes, student film projects, Dalnet RPing, and overdosing majorly on the Dreamcast and the games I had acquired for less than it would cost to buy an X-Box. Without any games.
So without any further ado, status reports and basic opinions.
1) The compilation of Episode 201 is currently in progress as I write this, and if is sent to the capable hands of Mister Wilde by the fifteenth, it would mean that I had managed to get ahead of schedule and I had reclaimed the free time I had thought lost. Pretty good job so far, I think.
2) I HAVE actually come up with a beginning to Episode 113, and I will probably post what I have on it so far unless our MMK has completed a miracle and brings out a piece better than mine, which includes the Mortal Kombat ninjas as waiters and lampoons heavily on the opening of "Reservoir Dogs", which I am near memorizing and will note has been released on DVD in a special edition. That reminds me. Gavok, you DID finish "Reservoir Fighters", correct?
3) I had an idea kicking around in my head about a sketch for Episode 201, basically a sophomoric "school play" about the life of Ben Hutchins, which includes this scene, slightly lifted from Austen Lethbridge's "A Palmer Christmas Carol":
WAND: Even when he was young, the young Benjamin Hutchins dreamed for a life controlling the fates and destinies of those around him.
(Scene opens. MMK, playing a young Ben, is sitting on the lap of GAVOK, dressed in Santa costume)
MMK (as Ben): An' I want an Atari system, Mister T's bodybuilding set, the new Bananarama tape, a string of palopannies, an' to be supreme ruler of earth an' have all the chicks swoon over my pear-shaped body!
GAVOK (as Santa): Ho ho ho! That's a tall order, son. I'll see what I can do about the tapes, but being popular will be pretty hard on my old back!
MMK: Okay. How about an elf?
GAVOK: HO HO HO! Oh, I don't use elves anymore! Nopt after that PJ infiltrated my ranks and tentacle raped all the elfgirls! They refuse to go to work after that, so I use Mexicans in the meantime! They're easier to feed and cheaper to pay.
MMK: Oh. Can I have a Mexican?
GAVOK: Sure. Here ya go.
(TBS, dressed in pancho and sombrero comes in.)
TBS: Ay es bueno! Mi cabesa essa frijole!
As you can see, a lot of ironing out I need to do. Oh, and if anyone thinks up a DBZ based sketch for 113, I can help with that too.
4) Hey, if you're planning showing more of Sorge's works and continuing the Dave/Dyne series, you got my votes for that, but here's a pipe dream that some of you may not have considered. Anyone familiar with the "Sabrina Online" fanstory by someone called "ChrisFoxx"? I'd say a quick proofreading and testing of the waters is in order of that marked. A big caveat might be that some of the SO faithful have had damn bad experiences with Something Awful and Portal of Evil goon attacks. Even then, it might be a refreshing change of pace to do, say, the first five chapters. There's about a hundred so far, I think.
And YES, Racey, I remeber what you said about not mentioning Sabrina again. I am in sorrow to losing her to the counter-fur spooge culture as much as you are type thingy. :(
MMK sent in an updated version of part 1 of the Hopelessly Lost MSTing. The parts are now reposted on the IFR Board [ http://network54.com/hide/forum/51339 ]. Anyone who wants to add a few more riffs to this baby, feel free to drop by and add riffs or comment on the work so far.
Has WLch3-4 gone to editing yet? (I'm not asking in an "I want to add another riff or two" way so much as a "Is the finished product being prepped for general consumption yet?" way.)
Also, did we ever decide what we were doing next? The main candidates, last time there was any discussion on the matter, seemed to be:
* that Super Smash Bros. lemon
* Mark of Zenretsu (Sorge! Sorge!)
* and the next inciting exstallment of "Ashura Ninpocho" (Pokemon SCROLL).
Did we resolve the issue? Did we expand the list? Am I frothing at the mouth, or falling over backwards, or falling over backwards to froth at the mouth?
I've been a little busy lately, so I've been letting WL sit here and take care of itself. I figured that anyone who wanted to go after it, but didn't have the time, could go ahead and do it now, like MMK, for example.
As for whatever's next, it was discussed idly, but never finalized. I'm open to suggestions. "Pokemon MASTER," "Mark of Zenretsu," the Hutchins/Creeper twofer, and, gods help us, more Dave and Dyne are all options.
<< I've been a little busy lately, so I've been letting WL sit here and take care of itself. I figured that anyone who wanted to go after it, but didn't have the time, could go ahead and do it now, like MMK, for example. >>
Or I could, just for shits'n'giggles. (For that matter, I've got my own copy of the DnD draft, with marks at the places where I'd put sketches if I were editing the beastie.)
<< As for whatever's next, it was discussed idly, but never finalized. I'm open to suggestions. "Pokemon MASTER," "Mark of Zenretsu," the Hutchins/Creeper twofer, and, gods help us, more Dave and Dyne are all options. >>
Out of all those, I still think "Mark of Zenretsu" sounds best, simply because we've had time to recover from our last bout of Sorge. (In theory, anyway.) Other votes?
I'd probably go back over the past posts and see if I can add riffs over the weekend. No promises though.
My opinion on the next MSTing is... anything BUT Hutchins. I've probably OD'ed on the guy's writing with HL and WL back-to-back. Heck, I can't even write enough riffs for WL as is.
I'd like to see Mark of Zenretsu or Pokemon Master. Hopefully, by then, I'd be able to get back to regular MSTing. :)
So, to date, that's 1.5 votes for "Mark of Zenretsu" (which would be my first time doing Sorgery) and half a vote for "Ruroni Ketchum". Anyone else care to weigh in?
("Walking" because it's not going fast enough to be running.)
So, unless someone posts another vote while I'm typing this, the totals are:
Mark of Zenretsu -- 2.5
Pokemon MARY SUE -- 0.5
And the other reason I'm bothering to make this post is that I went digging through the archives and, for the life of me, I couldn't find the thread in which we got the URL for "Mark" (or, at least, couldn't recognize it for what it was). Could someone either repost the URL or find the thread and bring it up to the surface? Please?
<< Didn't Sorge's page get aced in the Xoom implosion? >>
Most likely.
<< Did he ever bother putting a new one up? >>
Somebody did, once upon a time. The page "Zenretsu" was on, per the thread that alerted us to it, was at GeoCities (I know it by the shape of its banner ads). However, comma, Yahoo couldn't seem to find it there or, indeed, anywhere else. Nor could Altavista or Google. Next stop: FFn.)
<< I'm happy with either, even though I'm not *really* a part of the crew, but I digress. So make it a half-vote each way. Useless, aren't I? >>
Not completely. Sure, the margin doesn't change, but M.o.Z. is still ahead of PM 3-1. (I felt a Great Need [TM] to put dots after those initials to forestall jokes about the other Moz.)
<< Of course, I'd probably need to get off my date and do some work on WL first, especially after I nearly exploded with joy onm the topic... >>
You've done enough to get your name in the credits, and that's enough for me. (Then again, I'm in anti-charge. Unless, of course, my request is granted.)
Austin, dropping the whole "Djinn" thing due to Shady opining, on the session, that the joke had worn out
And on so many levels, too. Bad in that Sorge shows us that English is not his first language. Bad in that many scenes are more like rough drafts than actual exciting moments.
<< Folks, if you weren't around for CotN, you are in for a *treat*. >>
I was technically *around* for it, but I didn't take part. This should be...interesting.
And can I be the Mad this time, chief, and put you in the theatre? (The angle, see, is that MVTN Austin is pissed at Wanderer for dropping all those fighters in his lap during UVR3. Works for you?)
Austin, and good day.
"I'm sick of your insane demands." -- Allen Ginsberg, "America"
I may as well make a return for this one, too. Maybe as a co-mad(What, you want to do Sorge? Are you MAD? I still haven't completely repaired from the last time!), or another poor victim(Sees self being taunted by rest of cast).
I was planning to be in there as Austin, but coming in as Zedd (or Dezz), and being unmasked (Mystery Inc. style) as Austin at the end, actually makes sense.
<< Might we see the return of TV's Putrid? >>
I hadn't thought of it on my own, but now that you've suggested it, we might just. If I'm coming in under false colors, though, he probably won't be there, as it'd give the game away. Besides, to the best of my knowledge, all the Mads and assistants have been avatars of actual people.
<< All in all, I don't see why not, really. Not like we've had any other volunteers for the Mad seat, although we've not really issued the all-call. >>
There seldom is a properly issued call for that post, but I see SAMAS has spoken up, and wherever Damien wants us to put him is fine with me.
Apologies, everyone who was waiting for D&D. I dropped the ball on this one and haven't had time to really dig into it as much as I'd like -- that said, I'll send it along Tuesday, regardless of how much shit I get accomplished, though, because it's been damn well long enough.
(Yeah, I'm a loser, but not to worry: if there's anything America can teach us, it's that losers can con and swindle their way into a happy and successful life.)
Chapter 4E (and really last, I mean it this time)! It's WAFF to the rescue!
by
> When I awoke, I was momentarily confused to hear the
> continuing sounds of a fight. A quick check of my own current state -
> lying on my back on cool concrete, dizzy and in a great deal of pain -
> led me to conclude it wasn't -me- who was still fighting. If not me,
> though, who was it? Maybe I was just hallucinating. But no, as I
> tried to concentrate on it, I had to believe I was really hearing it.
> -Somebody- was doing some righteous ass-kicking.
> Convinced I was hearing it, I felt no great impulse to
> investigate further. Instead, I decided it would be best if I stayed
> where I was, taking a small amount of comfort from the coolness of the
> concrete floor. It was really quite comfortable there. Comfortable
> enough that I wandered back out of consciousness again.
> When I came to the second time, someone was shaking my
> shoulder and whispering. It took me several seconds to put together
> the basic fact that they were whispering to -me-, and a few more to
> get the language they were speaking sorted.
> "Can you stand?" the voice was saying, softly, in a tone and
> accent I found familiar. "We've got to get out of here."
> I pried an eye open, winced at the pain as the light outside
> invaded my skull, then tried, slightly successfully, to focus on the
> person speaking to me. I knew her, I was sure I knew her... a cute
> little blue-eyed blonde with a forelock and braid, British Isles
> accent, dressed in an Air Force uniform, yes? Air Force? Only woman
> I know in the Air Force is a brunette.
> You idiot, it's Cammy.
> Oh! So it is.
> "Hi," I said.
> "Hi," she replied.
> "Say," I declared, frowning suspiciously. "You're supposed to
> be in Scotland."
> "Little detour on my way home," she said, then repeated her
> question: "Can you stand?"
> "I dunno," I replied honestly. The punch-drunkness was
> fading, I was becoming aware that my body was not, in fact, one solid
> hurt, but rather a network of pain composed mainly of a badly bruised
> shoulder, a headache the size of Texas and a broken nose, with
> everything else registering a background-noise-level hum of aches and
> soreness. "I'll give it a shot."
> As I worked at remembering how to get all these aching parts
> to work together as a whole and shambled to my feet, I became aware of
> my surroundings in greater detail. Cammy -was- dressed in an Air Force
> uniform. The hangar was still right where I'd left it. The storm
> drain was open. The crumpled pile of USAF Air Police fatigues over by
> the big crate marked 'Hamdingers' was Guile. He looked like I felt.
> Actually, he was still unconscious, so it's more accurate to say he
> looked like I would rather have felt.
> "Hey," I observed. "You beat up Guile."
> Cammy smiled a little as she briskly helped me on with my Air
> Force uniform jacket. "The job does have its fringe benefits from
> time to time."
> "That wasn't a nice thing to say," I chided her as she guided
> me toward the door. OK, so maybe the punch-drunkness wasn't fading
> all that fast.
> "I'll write him a letter of apology."
> "Well, that's OK, then."
> "Right, now just follow my lead and let me do the talking, and
> we'll get out of here. All right?"
> "Ten-four. You look great in uniform, y'know."
> "Thank you. Now hush."
> "Oki-doki."
> We'd limped, arms over shoulders, to the door by that time.
> Shooting back the bolt, she shoved the door open, and we went right
> out into the group of APs, who were still standing tensely around the
> doorway, wondering what to do. They'd set up a couple of bright
> floodlamps, and I restrained an impulse to cringe and hiss,
> vampire-style.
> "You lot, see to Captain Guile and start a search of the drain
> and transport tunnels!" Cammy barked in an impressive voice of
> command. "I'll get Captain Hudson to the infirmary."
> I considered protesting that my name isn't Hudson, then
> remembered that the tag on my uniform jacket said it was. Who am I to
> argue with the guys who make name tags for the Air Force?
> The APs didn't even think to argue. Soldiers are trained to
> obey authority. Here was a woman in the uniform of a major in the
> United States Air Force, a full-access visitor's pass clipped to her
> lapel, confident, assured, supporting a badly battered fellow officer
> and speaking with a tone of complete authority. They did what
> soldiers do: they obeyed their orders. With much hustling and team
> spirit, they went to see to Guile and start that tunnel search.
> Cammy and I, meanwhile, set off in what I would assume was the
> direction of the infirmary. As soon as we were out of sight of the
> APs, she pushed me behind a dumpster - the same one, I realized, I'd
> begun my evening hiding behind. I hadn't noticed the black duffel bag
> lying on the ground next to it. Maybe it hadn't been there at the
> time.
> "Not much time," she observed. "We'll have to get you cleaned
> up a bit, you'll draw too much attention looking like this. Here, let
> me set your nose for you. We can't have it healing up all crooked,
> can we?" she added with a grin.
> "No, I guess we can't," I replied, sitting down with my back
> against the building wall. She knelt before me, pulling
> a first-aid kit from the duffel bag, and got out gauze and tape.
> "This will hurt a bit," she admitted, gingerly taking hold of
> my battered snout.
> I didn't really have anything to say to that, so I shrugged,
> and she straightened it. I think it actually hurt more being fixed
> than it had being broken; I let out a muted grunt as tears sprang to
> my eyes. Any trace of remaining daze vanished in the pain, which was
> actually good. I might be in pain, but at least now I was completely
> lucid.
> "Sorry," said Cammy apologetically as she packed my rebleeding
> nostrils with gauze and reinforced the bridge with tape. "There, that
> should do it," she said as she finished up. "You should see a proper
> doctor when you get home, but that will hold you for now."
> I blinked away the tears as the pain receded. "Tch," Cammy
> went on, shaking her head and getting out a large gauze pad. "You
> look a fright," she went on, wiping at the tear tracks and blood on my
> face. As she worked, she leaned closer, then closer still, and it
> didn't occur to me that she was going to kiss me until our lips
> actually met.
> Considerate of the fact that I couldn't breathe through my
> nose, she kissed me gently and undemandingly. Confused by the turn of
> events, touched by her consideration, it took me a moment to respond,
> but I quickly abandoned whatever plans I might have had for the
> evening. Her arms found their way around me as mine encircled her.
> We'd kissed before, of course, but something about this moment - this
> incongruous tenderness in the United States' most secret of secret
> places - would be burned into my memory forever as one of the key
> moments in our early relationship.
> It was a comfortable, unhurried sort of intimacy we felt.
> There was no heavy breathing, no furtive fumbling with fasteners, no
> sense of urgency - just a warm feeling of contentment. As I had the
> first day I knew her, I felt a little drunk with her nearness.
> "Cammy?" I murmured when I got an opening.
> "Mm?" she replied.
> "What are -you- doing here?"
> She chuckled, breath warm against my lips. "I -was- here to
> steal an aeroplane, but your lot seems to have carried it off before
> I arrived." Standing, she helped me up. Now that I was starting to
> feel like I lived in my body again, it wasn't as hard to stand up as
> it had been last time.
> "Lose the shirt," said Cammy, her businesslike briskness
> returning. Obligingly, I removed my bloody dress shirt and tie and
> consigned them to the dumpster. "Put the jacket back on, for now,"
> she continued. "We're not out of here yet."
> Someone had considerately left a Humvee standing parked in
> front of Building 10, so we took it. We pulled up to the guard
> station where Zoner, Meg and I had entered the base about a year ago.
> "Sorry, Major White," said the guard as Cammy presented her
> ID. "We're under lock-down. There's been a major security problem -
> someone's stolen one of the experimental aircraft.."
> "Don't I know it," said Cammy severely. "We're going to have
> another if you don't let me pass, soldier. Captain Hudson here is the
> only person on this base who knows the codes for that aircraft's
> weapons security system, and if I don't get him to Cheyenne within the
> evening, we're going to lose whatever chance we may have of getting it
> back."
> The guard wavered. "I haven't been informed of - "
> "Of course you haven't," said Cammy impatiently. "This is a
> national security matter, Airman. That aircraft is equipped with
> thermonuclear weapons, and if I don't get Captain Hudson to Cheyenne
> in time to change those codes, whoever stole it might just decide to
> use them. They could be over Chicago in two hours, Washington in
> three. Do you want millions of deaths on your conscience?"
> "No, ma'am!" said the airman, saluting. "You may pass!"
> "Thank you, Airman," said Cammy, and as the gate went up, she
> returned his salute, then floored the accelerator. I'm sure we made a
> merry sight, bouncing away up that narrow desert road that leads to
> one of the loneliest places on Earth.
> It wasn't until two hours later, as we were pulling into Las
> Vegas in a BWM sedan and street clothes (the Humvee abandoned by
> the side of the road an hour or more behind us), that I felt I could
> finally get away with relaxing, letting out a deep breath, and saying,
> "I can't believe that worked." As Cammy looked over,
> grinning, I added, "Of course, now the Air Force thinks Zoner intends
> to nuke a major city, but we didn't get shot, so I'm willing to call
> it a moral victory."
> "Doesn't matter much," said Cammy. "Even if they go on full
> alert, they'll never be able to touch Sky Dancer. What do you and
> Zoner want with it, anyway?"
> I told her.
> "That's wild," said Cammy. "Say - how soon is he expecting
> you back?"
> "Well, he has to fly back out sometime tomorrow to pick up the
> Prince, which is at the airport in Needles... we weren't really
> expecting me to get left behind, so we don't have a contingency plan."
> "Well, look, why not let him head home on his own? I've got
> to go do a little business in San Francisco tomorrow and then I'm at
> liberty for a week. I -was- planning to head to Worcester and look
> you up, but since you're here anyway, well... " She smiled. "Ever
> been to San Francisco?"
> "Can't say as I have." Is she inviting me to spend a week
> with her in San Francisco? Just the two of us?
> "Well, then, let's make a week of it," she said. "Just the
> two of us, and San Francisco."
> I guess she is. Unfortunately...
> "I'd love to, but I can't. I have to get back as soon as I
> can."
> "What for?"
> "Well, uh... I have a houseguest."
> By the time I finished that explanation, I was feeling
> distinctly fuzzy around the edges; the length and excitement of the
> day were taking their toll.
> "What are you going to do?" Cammy wondered, her face
> thoughtful as she turned the Beemer onto the garish expanse of the
> Strip. "She can't stay with you forever."
> "No... I suppose not. Although... "
> "What?"
> I started to reply, but it turned into a yawn. "Sorry," I
> said. "Long day... "
> "No worry," said Cammy. "Pick out a place to stay - we've no
> shortage of choices."
> "How about that new place I read about a while back, the one
> that's shaped like a pyramid... "
> "The Luxor?" Cammy grinned. "I thought that might appeal to
> you. The Luxor it is!"
>
> It is my distinct pleasure to inform you that, even if you
> have been soundly and professionally beaten up, the beds at the Luxor
> are of a high standard of comfort. I was asleep within minutes.
> Respectfully submitted,
> --G.
>
> END BATTLE 04
>
I'm the freak... of the week. Show me what you got!
by
> When I awoke, I was momentarily confused to hear the
> continuing sounds of a fight.
[MMK and GAVOK open fire on the screen with light guns.]
> A quick check of my own current state -
> lying on my back on cool concrete, dizzy and in a great deal of pain -
ARL <Gryphon>: Huh. It must be Tuesday.
> led me to conclude it wasn't -me- who was still fighting. If not me,
> though, who was it?
S.D.: The Poison Pussies have arrived!
> Maybe I was just hallucinating. But no, as I
> tried to concentrate on it, I had to believe I was really hearing it.
GAVOK <singing>: I believe!
[GAVOK air-guitars.]
GAVOK <singing>: I believe!
> -Somebody- was doing some righteous ass-kicking.
RACE: ...and that somebody... was *Tak Sakaguchi*!
[ALL cheer.]
> Convinced I was hearing it, I felt no great impulse to
> investigate further. Instead, I decided it would be best if I stayed
> where I was, taking a small amount of comfort from the coolness of the
> concrete floor. It was really quite comfortable there. Comfortable
> enough that I wandered back out of consciousness again.
> When I came to the second time, someone was shaking my
> shoulder and whispering. It took me several seconds to put together
> the basic fact that they were whispering to -me-, and a few more to
> get the language they were speaking sorted.
> "Can you stand?" the voice was saying, softly, in a tone and
> accent I found familiar. "We've got to get out of here."
> I pried an eye open, winced at the pain as the light outside
> invaded my skull, then tried, slightly successfully, to focus on the
> person speaking to me. I knew her, I was sure I knew her... a cute
> little blue-eyed blonde with a forelock and braid, British Isles
> accent,
MMK: Oh, it's King. Got it.
[Well, if anyone can think of a fighting-game woman with long blonde hair from Britain, have at it.]
> dressed in an Air Force uniform, yes? Air Force? Only woman
> I know in the Air Force is a brunette.
> You idiot, it's Cammy.
MMK: No, you just described King.
> Oh! So it is.
> "Hi," I said.
> "Hi," she replied.
> "Say," I declared, frowning suspiciously. "You're supposed to
> be in Scotland."
> "Little detour on my way home," she said,
S.D. <Cammy>: I *hate* flying Vanguard.
> then repeated her
> question: "Can you stand?"
> "I dunno," I replied honestly. The punch-drunkness was
> fading, I was becoming aware that my body was not, in fact, one solid
> hurt, but rather a network of pain composed mainly of a badly bruised
> shoulder, a headache the size of Texas and a broken nose, with
> everything else registering a background-noise-level hum of aches and
> soreness.
ARL: He's been seriously beaten, and he *still* prevaricates at tiresome length.
RACE: Could even *death* stop this man's muddled verbiage?
> "I'll give it a shot."
> As I worked at remembering how to get all these aching parts
> to work together as a whole and shambled to my feet, I became aware of
> my surroundings in greater detail. Cammy -was- dressed in an Air Force
> uniform. The hangar was still right where I'd left it.
> The storm drain was open. The crumpled pile of USAF Air Police fatigues over by
> the big crate marked 'Hamdingers'
[ALL applaud mockingly.]
> was Guile. He looked like I felt.
> Actually, he was still unconscious, so it's more accurate to say he
> looked like I would rather have felt.
> "Hey," I observed. "You beat up Guile."
> Cammy smiled a little as she briskly helped me on with my Air
> Force uniform jacket. "The job does have its fringe benefits from
> time to time."
> "That wasn't a nice thing to say," I chided her as she guided
> me toward the door. OK, so maybe the punch-drunkness wasn't fading
> all that fast.
> "I'll write him a letter of apology."
S.D. <Cammy>: "Dear Bitch, oh, I mean *Guile*--"
> "Well, that's OK, then."
> "Right, now just follow my lead and let me do the talking, and
> we'll get out of here. All right?"
> "Ten-four. You look great in uniform, y'know."
> "Thank you. Now hush."
> "Oki-doki."
> We'd limped, arms over shoulders, to the door by that time.
> Shooting back the bolt, she shoved the door open, and we went right
> out into the group of APs, who were still standing tensely around the
> doorway, wondering what to do. They'd set up a couple of bright
> floodlamps,
GAVOK <AP>: Are you now, or have you ever been, a member of the Communist party?!
> and I restrained an impulse to cringe and hiss,
> vampire-style.
TBS: Augh! Photons!
RACE: You shut your filthy mouth.
> "You lot, see to Captain Guile and start a search of the drain
> and transport tunnels!" Cammy barked in an impressive voice of
> command. "I'll get Captain Hudson to the infirmary."
> I considered protesting that my name isn't Hudson,
S.D. <Cammy>: Your name is whatever *I* say it is, beefstick!
> then
> remembered that the tag on my uniform jacket said it was. Who am I to
> argue with the guys who make name tags for the Air Force?
> The APs didn't even think to argue. Soldiers are trained to
> obey authority. Here was a woman in the uniform of a major in the
> United States Air Force, a full-access visitor's pass clipped to her
> lapel, confident, assured, supporting a badly battered fellow officer
> and speaking with a tone of complete authority. They did what
> soldiers do: they obeyed their orders. With much hustling and team
> spirit, they went to see to Guile and start that tunnel search.
> Cammy and I, meanwhile, set off in what I would assume was the
> direction of the infirmary. As soon as we were out of sight of the
> APs, she pushed me behind a dumpster - the same one, I realized, I'd
> begun my evening hiding behind. I hadn't noticed the black duffel bag
> lying on the ground next to it. Maybe it hadn't been there at the
> time.
> "Not much time," she observed. "We'll have to get you cleaned
> up a bit, you'll draw too much attention looking like this. Here, let
> me set your nose for you. We can't have it healing up all crooked,
> can we?" she added with a grin.
> "No, I guess we can't," I replied,
ARL <Gryphon>: That'd be too much like tangible proof that I actually *failed* at something.
> sitting down with my back
> against the building wall. She knelt before me, pulling
> a first-aid kit from the duffel bag, and got out gauze and tape.
> "This will hurt a bit," she admitted, gingerly taking hold of
> my battered snout.
> I didn't really have anything to say to that, so I shrugged,
> and she straightened it. I think it actually hurt more being fixed
> than it had being broken; I let out a muted grunt as tears sprang to
> my eyes. Any trace of remaining daze vanished in the pain, which was
> actually good. I might be in pain, but at least now I was completely
> lucid.
> "Sorry," said Cammy apologetically as she packed my rebleeding
> nostrils with gauze and reinforced the bridge with tape. "There, that
> should do it," she said as she finished up. "You should see a proper
> doctor when you get home, but that will hold you for now."
> I blinked away the tears as the pain receded. "Tch," Cammy
> went on, shaking her head and getting out a large gauze pad. "You
> look a fright," she went on, wiping at the tear tracks and blood on my
> face. As she worked, she leaned closer, then closer still, and it
> didn't occur to me that she was going to kiss me until our lips
> actually met.
> Considerate of the fact that I couldn't breathe through my
> nose, she kissed me gently and undemandingly.
RACE: Suck all the air out of his lungs!
ARL: No time. Use Death Blossom!
> Confused by the turn of
> events, touched by her consideration, it took me a moment to respond,
> but I quickly abandoned whatever plans I might have had for the
> evening. Her arms found their way around me as mine encircled her.
> We'd kissed before, of course, but something about this moment - this
> incongruous tenderness in the United States' most secret of secret
> places - would be burned into my memory forever as one of the key
> moments in our early relationship.
[*Gag*!]
> It was a comfortable, unhurried sort of intimacy we felt.
ARL: So! You're using forged passes and fake identities to rummage around Area 51 without permission! What do you do?
[RACE hits a bell.]
ARL: Racewing!
RACE: Grab a quick grope behind a dumpster!
ARL: Apparently correct!
> There was no heavy breathing, no furtive fumbling with fasteners, no
> sense of urgency - just a warm feeling of contentment. As I had the
> first day I knew her, I felt a little drunk with her nearness.
> "Cammy?" I murmured when I got an opening.
> "Mm?" she replied.
> "What are -you- doing here?"
> She chuckled, breath warm against my lips. "I -was- here to
> steal an aeroplane, but your lot seems to have carried it off before
> I arrived." Standing, she helped me up. Now that I was starting to
> feel like I lived in my body again, it wasn't as hard to stand up as
> it had been last time.
> "Lose the shirt," said Cammy, her businesslike briskness
> returning. Obligingly, I removed my bloody dress shirt and tie and
> consigned them to the dumpster. "Put the jacket back on, for now,"
> she continued. "We're not out of here yet."
> Someone had considerately left a Humvee standing parked in
> front of Building 10, so we took it. We pulled up to the guard
> station where Zoner, Meg and I had entered the base about a year ago.
> "Sorry, Major White," said the guard as Cammy presented her
> ID. "We're under lock-down. There's been a major security problem -
> someone's stolen one of the experimental aircraft.."
> "Don't I know it," said Cammy severely. "We're going to have
> another if you don't let me pass, soldier. Captain Hudson here is the
> only person on this base who knows the codes for that aircraft's
> weapons security system, and if I don't get him to Cheyenne within the
> evening, we're going to lose whatever chance we may have of getting it
> back."
> The guard wavered. "I haven't been informed of - "
> "Of course you haven't," said Cammy impatiently. "This is a
> national security matter, Airman. That aircraft is equipped with
> thermonuclear weapons, and if I don't get Captain Hudson to Cheyenne
> in time to change those codes, whoever stole it might just decide to
> use them. They could be over Chicago in two hours, Washington in
> three. Do you want millions of deaths on your conscience?"
S.D. <Airman>: Yes! I like that sort of thing, *ma'am*!
ARL <Cammy>: Shit!
MMK <Gryphon>: Didn't see *that* one coming.
> "No, ma'am!" said the airman, saluting. "You may pass!"
> "Thank you, Airman," said Cammy, and as the gate went up, she
> returned his salute, then floored the accelerator.
GAVOK: Cammy White pops the clutch and tells Area 51 to *eat her dust*!
> I'm sure we made a
> merry sight, bouncing away up that narrow desert road that leads to
> one of the loneliest places on Earth.
> It wasn't until two hours later, as we were pulling into Las
> Vegas in a BWM sedan and street clothes (the Humvee abandoned by
> the side of the road an hour or more behind us), that I felt I could
> finally get away with relaxing, letting out a deep breath, and saying,
> "I can't believe that worked." As Cammy looked over,
> grinning, I added, "Of course, now the Air Force thinks Zoner intends
> to nuke a major city,
GAVOK: Right now, Zoner's probably trying to light a bomber joint with a plasma cannon.
> but we didn't get shot, so I'm willing to call
> it a moral victory."
> "Doesn't matter much," said Cammy. "Even if they go on full
> alert, they'll never be able to touch Sky Dancer. What do you and
> Zoner want with it, anyway?"
> I told her.
> "That's wild," said Cammy. "Say - how soon is he expecting
> you back?"
> "Well, he has to fly back out sometime tomorrow to pick up the
> Prince, which is at the airport in Needles... we weren't really
> expecting me to get left behind, so we don't have a contingency plan."
> "Well, look, why not let him head home on his own? I've got
> to go do a little business in San Francisco tomorrow and then I'm at
> liberty for a week. I -was- planning to head to Worcester and look
> you up, but since you're here anyway, well... " She smiled. "Ever
> been to San Francisco?"
> "Can't say as I have." Is she inviting me to spend a week
> with her in San Francisco? Just the two of us?
ARL <Gryphon>: Guile must've gotten in a couple of good head shots.
> "Well, then, let's make a week of it," she said. "Just the
> two of us, and San Francisco."
> I guess she is. Unfortunately...
> "I'd love to, but I can't. I have to get back as soon as I
> can."
> "What for?"
> "Well, uh... I have a houseguest."
S.D. <Gryphon>: Without me, who *knows* what wacky misadventures she'll get into?!
> By the time I finished that explanation, I was feeling
> distinctly fuzzy around the edges; the length and excitement of the
> day were taking their toll.
> "What are you going to do?" Cammy wondered, her face
> thoughtful as she turned the Beemer onto the garish expanse of the
> Strip. "She can't stay with you forever."
> "No... I suppose not. Although... "
> "What?"
> I started to reply, but it turned into a yawn. "Sorry," I
> said. "Long day... "
> "No worry," said Cammy. "Pick out a place to stay - we've no
> shortage of choices."
> "How about that new place I read about a while back, the one
> that's shaped like a pyramid... "
ARL <Chosen One>: That's French!
RACE <Betty>: Stinky pits and all, baby!
> "The Luxor?" Cammy grinned. "I thought that might appeal to
> you. The Luxor it is!"
>
> It is my distinct pleasure to inform you that, even if you
> have been soundly and professionally beaten up, the beds at the Luxor
> are of a high standard of comfort. I was asleep within minutes.
S.D. <Gryphon>: Then I woke up, and my body had locked into its current position.
> When I awoke, I was momentarily confused to hear the
> continuing sounds of a fight.
[MMK and GAVOK open fire on the screen with light guns.]
> A quick check of my own current state -
TBS: It's good to carry a map with you where ever you go.
> lying on my back on cool concrete, dizzy and in a great deal of pain -
ARL <Gryphon>: Huh. It must be Tuesday.
> led me to conclude it wasn't -me- who was still fighting. If not me,
> though, who was it?
S.D.: The Poison Pussies have arrived!
GAVOK <Michael J. Fox>: It was Death...
> Maybe I was just hallucinating. But no, as I
> tried to concentrate on it, I had to believe I was really hearing it.
GAVOK <singing>: I believe!
[GAVOK air-guitars.]
GAVOK <singing>: I believe!
> -Somebody- was doing some righteous ass-kicking.
RACE: ...and that somebody... was *Tak Sakaguchi*!
[ALL cheer.]
> Convinced I was hearing it, I felt no great impulse to
> investigate further. Instead, I decided it would be best if I stayed
> where I was, taking a small amount of comfort from the coolness of the
> concrete floor.
ARL: So apparently it's the end of the world as he knows it, but he feels fine.
> It was really quite comfortable there. Comfortable
> enough that I wandered back out of consciousness again.
> When I came to the second time, someone was shaking my
> shoulder and whispering. It took me several seconds to put together
> the basic fact that they were whispering to -me-, and a few more to
> get the language they were speaking sorted.
> "Can you stand?" the voice was saying, softly, in a tone and
> accent I found familiar. "We've got to get out of here."
> I pried an eye open, winced at the pain as the light outside
> invaded my skull, then tried, slightly successfully, to focus on the
> person speaking to me. I knew her, I was sure I knew her... a cute
> little blue-eyed blonde with a forelock and braid, British Isles
> accent,
MMK: Oh, it's King. Got it.
[Well, if anyone can think of a fighting-game woman with long blonde hair from Britain, have at it.]
> dressed in an Air Force uniform, yes? Air Force? Only woman
> I know in the Air Force is a brunette.
> You idiot, it's Cammy.
MMK: No, you just described King.
> Oh! So it is.
> "Hi," I said.
> "Hi," she replied.
> "Say," I declared, frowning suspiciously. "You're supposed to
> be in Scotland."
> "Little detour on my way home," she said,
S.D. <Cammy>: I *hate* flying Vanguard.
> then repeated her
> question: "Can you stand?"
TBS <Benimaru> and MMK <Rubber Soul>: Do you understand?
S.D. <Cammy>: Get out of here!
(TBS and MMK walk away with their heads down)
> "I dunno," I replied honestly. The punch-drunkness was
> fading, I was becoming aware that my body was not, in fact, one solid
> hurt, but rather a network of pain composed mainly of a badly bruised
> shoulder, a headache the size of Texas and a broken nose, with
> everything else registering a background-noise-level hum of aches and
> soreness.
ARL: He's been seriously beaten, and he *still* prevaricates at tiresome length.
RACE: Could even *death* stop this man's muddled verbiage?
> "I'll give it a shot."
> As I worked at remembering how to get all these aching parts
> to work together as a whole and shambled to my feet, I became aware of
> my surroundings in greater detail. Cammy -was- dressed in an Air Force
> uniform. The hangar was still right where I'd left it.
> The storm drain was open. The crumpled pile of USAF Air Police fatigues over by
> the big crate marked 'Hamdingers'
[ALL applaud mockingly.]
> was Guile. He looked like I felt.
GAVOK <Gryphon>: He looked like Van Dam, and I felt *damn* tired.
> Actually, he was still unconscious, so it's more accurate to say he
> looked like I would rather have felt.
> "Hey," I observed. "You beat up Guile."
> Cammy smiled a little as she briskly helped me on with my Air
> Force uniform jacket. "The job does have its fringe benefits from
> time to time."
> "That wasn't a nice thing to say," I chided her as she guided
> me toward the door. OK, so maybe the punch-drunkness wasn't fading
> all that fast.
> "I'll write him a letter of apology."
S.D. <Cammy>: "Dear Bitch, oh, I mean *Guile*--"
> "Well, that's OK, then."
> "Right, now just follow my lead and let me do the talking, and
> we'll get out of here. All right?"
> "Ten-four. You look great in uniform, y'know."
> "Thank you. Now hush."
> "Oki-doki."
> We'd limped, arms over shoulders, to the door by that time.
> Shooting back the bolt, she shoved the door open, and we went right
> out into the group of APs, who were still standing tensely around the
> doorway, wondering what to do. They'd set up a couple of bright
> floodlamps,
GAVOK <AP>: Are you now, or have you ever been, a member of the Communist party?!
> and I restrained an impulse to cringe and hiss,
> vampire-style.
TBS: Augh! Photons!
RACE: You shut your filthy mouth.
> "You lot, see to Captain Guile and start a search of the drain
> and transport tunnels!" Cammy barked in an impressive voice of
> command. "I'll get Captain Hudson to the infirmary."
> I considered protesting that my name isn't Hudson,
S.D. <Cammy>: Your name is whatever *I* say it is, beefstick!
MMK <Gryphon>: Aye lass. Then get me me sword before the sun comes up, will ya.
> then
> remembered that the tag on my uniform jacket said it was. Who am I to
> argue with the guys who make name tags for the Air Force?
> The APs didn't even think to argue. Soldiers are trained to
> obey authority.
ARL: Except Mellencamp. He likes to fight authority.
> Here was a woman in the uniform of a major in the
> United States Air Force, a full-access visitor's pass clipped to her
> lapel, confident, assured, supporting a badly battered fellow officer
> and speaking with a tone of complete authority. They did what
> soldiers do: they obeyed their orders. With much hustling and team
> spirit, they went to see to Guile and start that tunnel search.
> Cammy and I, meanwhile, set off in what I would assume was the
> direction of the infirmary. As soon as we were out of sight of the
> APs, she pushed me behind a dumpster - the same one, I realized, I'd
> begun my evening hiding behind. I hadn't noticed the black duffel bag
> lying on the ground next to it. Maybe it hadn't been there at the
> time.
> "Not much time," she observed. "We'll have to get you cleaned
> up a bit, you'll draw too much attention looking like this. Here, let
> me set your nose for you. We can't have it healing up all crooked,
> can we?" she added with a grin.
S.D. <Cammy>: Then you'd look like Owen Wilson.
> "No, I guess we can't," I replied,
ARL <Gryphon>: That'd be too much like tangible proof that I actually *failed* at something.
> sitting down with my back
> against the building wall. She knelt before me, pulling
> a first-aid kit from the duffel bag, and got out gauze and tape.
> "This will hurt a bit," she admitted, gingerly taking hold of
> my battered snout.
> I didn't really have anything to say to that, so I shrugged,
> and she straightened it. I think it actually hurt more being fixed
> than it had being broken; I let out a muted grunt as tears sprang to
> my eyes. Any trace of remaining daze vanished in the pain, which was
> actually good. I might be in pain, but at least now I was completely
> lucid.
> "Sorry," said Cammy apologetically as she packed my rebleeding
> nostrils with gauze and reinforced the bridge with tape. "There, that
> should do it," she said as she finished up. "You should see a proper
> doctor when you get home, but that will hold you for now."
> I blinked away the tears as the pain receded. "Tch," Cammy
> went on, shaking her head and getting out a large gauze pad. "You
> look a fright," she went on, wiping at the tear tracks and blood on my
> face. As she worked, she leaned closer, then closer still, and it
> didn't occur to me that she was going to kiss me until our lips
> actually met.
> Considerate of the fact that I couldn't breathe through my
> nose, she kissed me gently and undemandingly.
RACE: Suck all the air out of his lungs!
ARL: No time. Use Death Blossom!
> Confused by the turn of
> events, touched by her consideration, it took me a moment to respond,
> but I quickly abandoned whatever plans I might have had for the
> evening. Her arms found their way around me as mine encircled her.
> We'd kissed before, of course, but something about this moment - this
> incongruous tenderness in the United States' most secret of secret
> places - would be burned into my memory forever as one of the key
> moments in our early relationship.
[*Gag*!]
> It was a comfortable, unhurried sort of intimacy we felt.
ARL: So! You're using forged passes and fake identities to rummage around Area 51 without permission! What do you do?
[RACE hits a bell.]
ARL: Racewing!
RACE: Grab a quick grope behind a dumpster!
ARL: Apparently correct!
> There was no heavy breathing, no furtive fumbling with fasteners, no
> sense of urgency - just a warm feeling of contentment. As I had the
> first day I knew her, I felt a little drunk with her nearness.
> "Cammy?" I murmured when I got an opening.
> "Mm?" she replied.
> "What are -you- doing here?"
RACE <Cammy>: I just contracted herpes and I needed someone to give it to.
> She chuckled, breath warm against my lips. "I -was- here to
> steal an aeroplane, but your lot seems to have carried it off before
> I arrived." Standing, she helped me up. Now that I was starting to
> feel like I lived in my body again, it wasn't as hard to stand up as
> it had been last time.
> "Lose the shirt," said Cammy, her businesslike briskness
> returning. Obligingly, I removed my bloody dress shirt and tie and
> consigned them to the dumpster. "Put the jacket back on, for now,"
> she continued. "We're not out of here yet."
> Someone had considerately left a Humvee standing parked in
> front of Building 10, so we took it. We pulled up to the guard
> station where Zoner, Meg and I had entered the base about a year ago.
> "Sorry, Major White," said the guard as Cammy presented her
> ID. "We're under lock-down. There's been a major security problem -
> someone's stolen one of the experimental aircraft.."
> "Don't I know it," said Cammy severely. "We're going to have
> another if you don't let me pass, soldier. Captain Hudson here is the
> only person on this base who knows the codes for that aircraft's
> weapons security system, and if I don't get him to Cheyenne within the
> evening, we're going to lose whatever chance we may have of getting it
> back."
> The guard wavered. "I haven't been informed of - "
> "Of course you haven't," said Cammy impatiently. "This is a
> national security matter, Airman.
MMK <Airman>: But Dr. Wily said nothing of this!
> That aircraft is equipped with
> thermonuclear weapons, and if I don't get Captain Hudson to Cheyenne
> in time to change those codes, whoever stole it might just decide to
> use them. They could be over Chicago in two hours, Washington in
> three. Do you want millions of deaths on your conscience?"
S.D. <Airman>: Yes! I like that sort of thing, *ma'am*!
ARL <Cammy>: Shit!
MMK <Gryphon>: Didn't see *that* one coming.
> "No, ma'am!" said the airman, saluting. "You may pass!"
> "Thank you, Airman," said Cammy, and as the gate went up, she
> returned his salute, then floored the accelerator.
GAVOK: Cammy White pops the clutch and tells Area 51 to *eat her dust*!
> I'm sure we made a
> merry sight, bouncing away up that narrow desert road that leads to
> one of the loneliest places on Earth.
ARL: An Emo Phillips film festival?
> It wasn't until two hours later, as we were pulling into Las
> Vegas in a BWM sedan and street clothes (the Humvee abandoned by
> the side of the road an hour or more behind us), that I felt I could
> finally get away with relaxing, letting out a deep breath, and saying,
> "I can't believe that worked." As Cammy looked over,
> grinning, I added, "Of course, now the Air Force thinks Zoner intends
> to nuke a major city,
GAVOK: Right now, Zoner's probably trying to light a bomber joint with a plasma cannon.
> but we didn't get shot, so I'm willing to call
> it a moral victory."
> "Doesn't matter much," said Cammy. "Even if they go on full
> alert, they'll never be able to touch Sky Dancer. What do you and
> Zoner want with it, anyway?"
TBS <Gryphon>: eBAY.
> I told her.
> "That's wild," said Cammy. "Say - how soon is he expecting
> you back?"
> "Well, he has to fly back out sometime tomorrow to pick up the
> Prince, which is at the airport in Needles...
GAVOK: We'd like to thank you for flying Sweet Tooth Air. Our plane will be crashing in two minutes into Phoenix. The time is 5:56pm.
> we weren't really
> expecting me to get left behind, so we don't have a contingency plan."
> "Well, look, why not let him head home on his own? I've got
> to go do a little business in San Francisco tomorrow and then I'm at
> liberty for a week. I -was- planning to head to Worcester and look
> you up, but since you're here anyway, well... " She smiled. "Ever
> been to San Francisco?"
> "Can't say as I have." Is she inviting me to spend a week
> with her in San Francisco? Just the two of us?
ARL <Gryphon>: Guile must've gotten in a couple of good head shots.
> "Well, then, let's make a week of it," she said. "Just the
> two of us, and San Francisco."
> I guess she is. Unfortunately...
> "I'd love to, but I can't. I have to get back as soon as I
> can."
> "What for?"
> "Well, uh... I have a houseguest."
S.D. <Gryphon>: Without me, who *knows* what wacky misadventures she'll get into?!
> By the time I finished that explanation, I was feeling
> distinctly fuzzy around the edges; the length and excitement of the
> day were taking their toll.
> "What are you going to do?" Cammy wondered, her face
> thoughtful as she turned the Beemer onto the garish expanse of the
> Strip. "She can't stay with you forever."
> "No... I suppose not. Although... "
> "What?"
> I started to reply, but it turned into a yawn. "Sorry," I
> said. "Long day... "
> "No worry," said Cammy. "Pick out a place to stay - we've no
> shortage of choices."
> "How about that new place I read about a while back, the one
> that's shaped like a pyramid... "
ARL <Chosen One>: That's French!
RACE <Betty>: Stinky pits and all, baby!
> "The Luxor?" Cammy grinned. "I thought that might appeal to
> you. The Luxor it is!"
>
> It is my distinct pleasure to inform you that, even if you
> have been soundly and professionally beaten up, the beds at the Luxor
> are of a high standard of comfort. I was asleep within minutes.
S.D. <Gryphon>: Then I woke up, and my body had locked into its current position.
> Respectfully submitted,
> --G.
>
> END BATTLE 04
> When I awoke, I was momentarily confused to hear the
> continuing sounds of a fight.
[MMK and GAVOK open fire on the screen with light guns.]
> A quick check of my own current state -
TBS: It's good to carry a map with you where ever you go.
> lying on my back on cool concrete, dizzy and in a great deal of pain -
ARL <Gryphon>: Huh. It must be Tuesday.
> led me to conclude it wasn't -me- who was still fighting. If not me,
> though, who was it?
S.D.: The Poison Pussies have arrived!
GAVOK <Michael J. Fox>: It was Death...
> Maybe I was just hallucinating. But no, as I
> tried to concentrate on it, I had to believe I was really hearing it.
GAVOK <singing>: I believe!
[GAVOK air-guitars.]
GAVOK <singing>: I believe!
> -Somebody- was doing some righteous ass-kicking.
RACE: ...and that somebody... was *Tak Sakaguchi*!
[ALL cheer.]
> Convinced I was hearing it, I felt no great impulse to
> investigate further. Instead, I decided it would be best if I stayed
> where I was, taking a small amount of comfort from the coolness of the
> concrete floor.
ARL: So apparently it's the end of the world as he knows it, but he feels fine.
> It was really quite comfortable there. Comfortable
> enough that I wandered back out of consciousness again.
> When I came to the second time, someone was shaking my
> shoulder and whispering. It took me several seconds to put together
> the basic fact that they were whispering to -me-, and a few more to
> get the language they were speaking sorted.
> "Can you stand?" the voice was saying, softly, in a tone and
> accent I found familiar. "We've got to get out of here."
> I pried an eye open, winced at the pain as the light outside
> invaded my skull, then tried, slightly successfully, to focus on the
> person speaking to me. I knew her, I was sure I knew her... a cute
> little blue-eyed blonde with a forelock and braid, British Isles
> accent,
MMK: Oh, it's King. Got it.
[Well, if anyone can think of a fighting-game woman with long blonde hair from Britain, have at it.]
> dressed in an Air Force uniform, yes? Air Force? Only woman
> I know in the Air Force is a brunette.
> You idiot, it's Cammy.
MMK: No, you just described King.
> Oh! So it is.
> "Hi," I said.
> "Hi," she replied.
> "Say," I declared, frowning suspiciously. "You're supposed to
> be in Scotland."
> "Little detour on my way home," she said,
S.D. <Cammy>: I *hate* flying Vanguard.
> then repeated her
> question: "Can you stand?"
TBS <Benimaru> and MMK <Rubber Soul>: Do you understand?
S.D. <Cammy>: Get out of here!
(TBS and MMK walk away with their heads down)
> "I dunno," I replied honestly. The punch-drunkness was
> fading, I was becoming aware that my body was not, in fact, one solid
> hurt, but rather a network of pain composed mainly of a badly bruised
> shoulder, a headache the size of Texas and a broken nose, with
> everything else registering a background-noise-level hum of aches and
> soreness.
ARL: He's been seriously beaten, and he *still* prevaricates at tiresome length.
RACE: Could even *death* stop this man's muddled verbiage?
> "I'll give it a shot."
> As I worked at remembering how to get all these aching parts
> to work together as a whole and shambled to my feet, I became aware of
> my surroundings in greater detail. Cammy -was- dressed in an Air Force
> uniform. The hangar was still right where I'd left it.
> The storm drain was open. The crumpled pile of USAF Air Police fatigues over by
> the big crate marked 'Hamdingers'
[ALL applaud mockingly.]
> was Guile. He looked like I felt.
GAVOK <Gryphon>: He looked like Van Dam, and I felt *damn* tired.
> Actually, he was still unconscious, so it's more accurate to say he
> looked like I would rather have felt.
> "Hey," I observed. "You beat up Guile."
> Cammy smiled a little as she briskly helped me on with my Air
> Force uniform jacket. "The job does have its fringe benefits from
> time to time."
> "That wasn't a nice thing to say," I chided her as she guided
> me toward the door. OK, so maybe the punch-drunkness wasn't fading
> all that fast.
> "I'll write him a letter of apology."
S.D. <Cammy>: "Dear Bitch, oh, I mean *Guile*--"
> "Well, that's OK, then."
> "Right, now just follow my lead and let me do the talking, and
> we'll get out of here. All right?"
> "Ten-four. You look great in uniform, y'know."
> "Thank you. Now hush."
> "Oki-doki."
> We'd limped, arms over shoulders, to the door by that time.
> Shooting back the bolt, she shoved the door open, and we went right
> out into the group of APs, who were still standing tensely around the
> doorway, wondering what to do. They'd set up a couple of bright
> floodlamps,
GAVOK <AP>: Are you now, or have you ever been, a member of the Communist party?!
> and I restrained an impulse to cringe and hiss,
> vampire-style.
TBS: Augh! Photons!
RACE: You shut your filthy mouth.
> "You lot, see to Captain Guile and start a search of the drain
> and transport tunnels!" Cammy barked in an impressive voice of
> command. "I'll get Captain Hudson to the infirmary."
> I considered protesting that my name isn't Hudson,
S.D. <Cammy>: Your name is whatever *I* say it is, beefstick!
MMK <Gryphon>: Aye lass. Then get me me sword before the sun comes up, will ya.
> then
> remembered that the tag on my uniform jacket said it was. Who am I to
> argue with the guys who make name tags for the Air Force?
> The APs didn't even think to argue. Soldiers are trained to
> obey authority.
ARL: Except Mellencamp. He likes to fight authority.
> Here was a woman in the uniform of a major in the
> United States Air Force, a full-access visitor's pass clipped to her
> lapel, confident, assured, supporting a badly battered fellow officer
> and speaking with a tone of complete authority. They did what
> soldiers do: they obeyed their orders. With much hustling and team
> spirit, they went to see to Guile and start that tunnel search.
> Cammy and I, meanwhile, set off in what I would assume was the
> direction of the infirmary. As soon as we were out of sight of the
> APs, she pushed me behind a dumpster - the same one, I realized, I'd
> begun my evening hiding behind. I hadn't noticed the black duffel bag
> lying on the ground next to it. Maybe it hadn't been there at the
> time.
> "Not much time," she observed. "We'll have to get you cleaned
> up a bit, you'll draw too much attention looking like this. Here, let
> me set your nose for you. We can't have it healing up all crooked,
> can we?" she added with a grin.
S.D. <Cammy>: Then you'd look like Owen Wilson.
> "No, I guess we can't," I replied,
ARL <Gryphon>: That'd be too much like tangible proof that I actually *failed* at something.
> sitting down with my back
> against the building wall. She knelt before me, pulling
> a first-aid kit from the duffel bag, and got out gauze and tape.
> "This will hurt a bit," she admitted, gingerly taking hold of
> my battered snout.
> I didn't really have anything to say to that, so I shrugged,
> and she straightened it. I think it actually hurt more being fixed
> than it had being broken;
GAVOK <Kalten>: I can break it for you again, if you'd like.
ARL <Sparhawk>: Thanks anyway.
> I let out a muted grunt as tears sprang to
> my eyes. Any trace of remaining daze vanished in the pain, which was
> actually good. I might be in pain, but at least now I was completely
> lucid.
> "Sorry," said Cammy apologetically as she packed my rebleeding
> nostrils with gauze and reinforced the bridge with tape. "There, that
> should do it," she said as she finished up. "You should see a proper
> doctor when you get home, but that will hold you for now."
> I blinked away the tears as the pain receded. "Tch," Cammy
> went on, shaking her head and getting out a large gauze pad. "You
> look a fright," she went on, wiping at the tear tracks and blood on my
> face. As she worked, she leaned closer, then closer still, and it
> didn't occur to me that she was going to kiss me until our lips
> actually met.
> Considerate of the fact that I couldn't breathe through my
> nose, she kissed me gently and undemandingly.
RACE: Suck all the air out of his lungs!
ARL: No time. Use Death Blossom!
> Confused by the turn of
> events, touched by her consideration, it took me a moment to respond,
> but I quickly abandoned whatever plans I might have had for the
> evening. Her arms found their way around me as mine encircled her.
> We'd kissed before, of course, but something about this moment - this
> incongruous tenderness in the United States' most secret of secret
> places - would be burned into my memory forever as one of the key
> moments in our early relationship.
[*Gag*!]
> It was a comfortable, unhurried sort of intimacy we felt.
ARL: So! You're using forged passes and fake identities to rummage around Area 51 without permission! What do you do?
[RACE hits a bell.]
ARL: Racewing!
RACE: Grab a quick grope behind a dumpster!
ARL: Apparently correct!
> There was no heavy breathing, no furtive fumbling with fasteners, no
> sense of urgency - just a warm feeling of contentment. As I had the
> first day I knew her, I felt a little drunk with her nearness.
> "Cammy?" I murmured when I got an opening.
> "Mm?" she replied.
> "What are -you- doing here?"
RACE <Cammy>: I just contracted herpes and I needed someone to give it to.
> She chuckled, breath warm against my lips. "I -was- here to
> steal an aeroplane, but your lot seems to have carried it off before
> I arrived." Standing, she helped me up. Now that I was starting to
> feel like I lived in my body again, it wasn't as hard to stand up as
> it had been last time.
> "Lose the shirt," said Cammy, her businesslike briskness
> returning. Obligingly, I removed my bloody dress shirt and tie and
> consigned them to the dumpster. "Put the jacket back on, for now,"
> she continued. "We're not out of here yet."
> Someone had considerately left a Humvee standing parked in
> front of Building 10, so we took it. We pulled up to the guard
> station where Zoner, Meg and I had entered the base about a year ago.
MMK <Kilgore Trout>: Time is funny.
> "Sorry, Major White," said the guard as Cammy presented her
> ID. "We're under lock-down. There's been a major security problem -
> someone's stolen one of the experimental aircraft.."
> "Don't I know it," said Cammy severely. "We're going to have
> another if you don't let me pass, soldier. Captain Hudson here is the
> only person on this base who knows the codes for that aircraft's
> weapons security system, and if I don't get him to Cheyenne within the
> evening, we're going to lose whatever chance we may have of getting it
> back."
> The guard wavered. "I haven't been informed of - "
> "Of course you haven't," said Cammy impatiently. "This is a
> national security matter, Airman.
MMK <Airman>: But Dr. Wily said nothing of this!
> That aircraft is equipped with
> thermonuclear weapons, and if I don't get Captain Hudson to Cheyenne
> in time to change those codes, whoever stole it might just decide to
> use them. They could be over Chicago in two hours, Washington in
> three. Do you want millions of deaths on your conscience?"
S.D. <Airman>: Yes! I like that sort of thing, *ma'am*!
ARL <Cammy>: Shit!
MMK <Gryphon>: Didn't see *that* one coming.
> "No, ma'am!" said the airman, saluting. "You may pass!"
> "Thank you, Airman," said Cammy, and as the gate went up, she
> returned his salute, then floored the accelerator.
GAVOK: Cammy White pops the clutch and tells Area 51 to *eat her dust*!
> I'm sure we made a
> merry sight, bouncing away up that narrow desert road that leads to
> one of the loneliest places on Earth.
ARL: An Emo Phillips film festival?
> It wasn't until two hours later, as we were pulling into Las
> Vegas in a BWM sedan and street clothes (the Humvee abandoned by
> the side of the road an hour or more behind us), that I felt I could
> finally get away with relaxing, letting out a deep breath, and saying,
> "I can't believe that worked." As Cammy looked over,
> grinning, I added, "Of course, now the Air Force thinks Zoner intends
> to nuke a major city,
GAVOK: Right now, Zoner's probably trying to light a bomber joint with a plasma cannon.
> but we didn't get shot, so I'm willing to call
> it a moral victory."
> "Doesn't matter much," said Cammy. "Even if they go on full
> alert, they'll never be able to touch Sky Dancer. What do you and
> Zoner want with it, anyway?"
TBS <Gryphon>: eBAY.
> I told her.
> "That's wild," said Cammy. "Say - how soon is he expecting
> you back?"
> "Well, he has to fly back out sometime tomorrow to pick up the
> Prince, which is at the airport in Needles...
GAVOK: We'd like to thank you for flying Sweet Tooth Air. Our plane will be crashing in two minutes into Phoenix. The time is 5:56pm.
> we weren't really
> expecting me to get left behind, so we don't have a contingency plan."
> "Well, look, why not let him head home on his own? I've got
> to go do a little business in San Francisco tomorrow and then I'm at
> liberty for a week. I -was- planning to head to Worcester and look
> you up, but since you're here anyway, well... " She smiled. "Ever
> been to San Francisco?"
> "Can't say as I have." Is she inviting me to spend a week
> with her in San Francisco? Just the two of us?
ARL <Gryphon>: Guile must've gotten in a couple of good head shots.
> "Well, then, let's make a week of it," she said. "Just the
> two of us, and San Francisco."
> I guess she is. Unfortunately...
> "I'd love to, but I can't. I have to get back as soon as I
> can."
> "What for?"
> "Well, uh... I have a houseguest."
S.D. <Gryphon>: Without me, who *knows* what wacky misadventures she'll get into?!
> By the time I finished that explanation, I was feeling
> distinctly fuzzy around the edges; the length and excitement of the
> day were taking their toll.
> "What are you going to do?" Cammy wondered, her face
> thoughtful as she turned the Beemer onto the garish expanse of the
> Strip. "She can't stay with you forever."
> "No... I suppose not. Although... "
> "What?"
> I started to reply, but it turned into a yawn. "Sorry," I
> said. "Long day... "
> "No worry," said Cammy. "Pick out a place to stay - we've no
> shortage of choices."
> "How about that new place I read about a while back, the one
> that's shaped like a pyramid... "
ARL <Chosen One>: That's French!
RACE <Betty>: Stinky pits and all, baby!
> "The Luxor?" Cammy grinned. "I thought that might appeal to
> you. The Luxor it is!"
>
> It is my distinct pleasure to inform you that, even if you
> have been soundly and professionally beaten up, the beds at the Luxor
> are of a high standard of comfort. I was asleep within minutes.
S.D. <Gryphon>: Then I woke up, and my body had locked into its current position.
> Respectfully submitted,
> --G.
>
> END BATTLE 04
>
MMK: Roll end credits!
GAVOK: Remember to worship Gryphon at the Eyrie message board of your choice!
> When I awoke, I was momentarily confused to hear the
> continuing sounds of a fight.
[MMK and GAVOK open fire on the screen with light guns.]
> A quick check of my own current state -
TBS: It's good to carry a map with you where ever you go.
> lying on my back on cool concrete, dizzy and in a great deal of pain -
ARL <Gryphon>: Huh. It must be Tuesday.
> led me to conclude it wasn't -me- who was still fighting. If not me,
> though, who was it?
S.D.: The Poison Pussies have arrived!
GAVOK <Michael J. Fox>: It was Death...
[OR... both could probably work with... uh, work:]
S.D.: It was Zoner, who returned to save his one true love!
ARL: That would be really touching if it weren't so full of WRONG.
RACE: Eh, maybe Cammy and Meg'll end up hooking up.
GAVOK: Wait! Could it be...?
MMK: Yes! Fury the Wonder Dog followed them there, and now he's kicking Guile's ass!
THE LOONS: YAY! FURY!
> Maybe I was just hallucinating. But no, as I
> tried to concentrate on it, I had to believe I was really hearing it.
GAVOK <singing>: I believe!
[GAVOK air-guitars.]
GAVOK <singing>: I believe!
> -Somebody- was doing some righteous ass-kicking.
RACE: ...and that somebody... was *Tak Sakaguchi*!
[ALL cheer.]
> Convinced I was hearing it, I felt no great impulse to
> investigate further. Instead, I decided it would be best if I stayed
> where I was, taking a small amount of comfort from the coolness of the
> concrete floor.
ARL: So apparently it's the end of the world as he knows it, but he feels fine.
> It was really quite comfortable there. Comfortable
> enough that I wandered back out of consciousness again.
GAVOK: Consciousness really should install a fence one of these days.
> When I came to the second time, someone was shaking my
> shoulder and whispering. It took me several seconds to put together
> the basic fact that they were whispering to -me-, and a few more to
> get the language they were speaking sorted.
> "Can you stand?" the voice was saying, softly, in a tone and
> accent I found familiar. "We've got to get out of here."
> I pried an eye open, winced at the pain as the light outside
> invaded my skull,
ARL: ...claiming the northern lands. They entrenched themselves in the deep woodlands, making a frontal assault nearly impossible. By the time winter came, the defending forces were-
TBS: Bo-ring.
> then tried, slightly successfully, to focus on the
> person speaking to me. I knew her, I was sure I knew her... a cute
> little blue-eyed blonde with a forelock and braid, British Isles
> accent,
MMK: Oh, it's King. Got it.
[Well, if anyone can think of a fighting-game woman with long blonde hair from Britain, have at it.]
> dressed in an Air Force uniform, yes? Air Force? Only woman
> I know in the Air Force is a brunette.
> You idiot, it's Cammy.
MMK: No, you just described King.
> Oh! So it is.
TBS <Gryphon>: Thanks, voices in my head!
MMK, RACE, GAVOK <voices>: You're welcome!
RACE <voice>: Now kill her! She's full of Kegare!
> "Hi," I said.
> "Hi," she replied.
ARL: Snappy dialogue.
> "Say," I declared, frowning suspiciously. "You're supposed to
> be in Scotland."
> "Little detour on my way home," she said,
S.D. <Cammy>: I *hate* flying Vanguard.
> then repeated her
> question: "Can you stand?"
TBS <Benimaru> and MMK <Rubber Soul>: Do you understand?
S.D. <Cammy>: Get out of here!
(TBS and MMK walk away with their heads down)
> "I dunno," I replied honestly. The punch-drunkness was
> fading, I was becoming aware that my body was not, in fact, one solid
> hurt, but rather a network of pain composed mainly of a badly bruised
> shoulder, a headache the size of Texas and a broken nose, with
> everything else registering a background-noise-level hum of aches and
> soreness.
ARL: He's been seriously beaten, and he *still* prevaricates at tiresome length.
RACE: Could even *death* stop this man's muddled verbiage?
> "I'll give it a shot."
> As I worked at remembering how to get all these aching parts
> to work together as a whole and shambled to my feet, I became aware of
> my surroundings in greater detail. Cammy -was- dressed in an Air Force
> uniform. The hangar was still right where I'd left it.
> The storm drain was open. The crumpled pile of USAF Air Police fatigues over by
> the big crate marked 'Hamdingers'
[ALL applaud mockingly.]
> was Guile. He looked like I felt.
GAVOK <Gryphon>: He looked like Van Dam, and I felt *damn* tired.
> Actually, he was still unconscious, so it's more accurate to say he
> looked like I would rather have felt.
> "Hey," I observed. "You beat up Guile."
> Cammy smiled a little as she briskly helped me on with my Air
> Force uniform jacket. "The job does have its fringe benefits from
> time to time."
> "That wasn't a nice thing to say," I chided her as she guided
> me toward the door. OK, so maybe the punch-drunkness wasn't fading
> all that fast.
> "I'll write him a letter of apology."
S.D. <Cammy>: "Dear Bitch, oh, I mean *Guile*--"
RACE <Cammy, continuing>: "I apologize for schooling you like a red-headed stepchild..."
> "Well, that's OK, then."
> "Right, now just follow my lead and let me do the talking, and
> we'll get out of here. All right?"
> "Ten-four. You look great in uniform, y'know."
RACE <Gryphon>: You'd look even better out of it...
S.D.: Lame.
RACE: Geez, what do you WANT from me? I used up all my good material in the beginning?
[S.D. blinks.]
S.D.: *That* was your *good* material?
[RACE growls.]
> "Thank you. Now hush."
> "Oki-doki."
> We'd limped, arms over shoulders, to the door by that time.
> Shooting back the bolt, she shoved the door open, and we went right
> out into the group of APs, who were still standing tensely around the
> doorway, wondering what to do. They'd set up a couple of bright
> floodlamps,
GAVOK <AP>: Are you now, or have you ever been, a member of the Communist party?!
> and I restrained an impulse to cringe and hiss,
> vampire-style.
TBS: Augh! Photons!
RACE: You shut your filthy mouth.
> "You lot, see to Captain Guile and start a search of the drain
> and transport tunnels!" Cammy barked in an impressive voice of
> command. "I'll get Captain Hudson to the infirmary."
> I considered protesting that my name isn't Hudson,
S.D. <Cammy>: Your name is whatever *I* say it is, beefstick!
MMK <Gryphon>: Aye lass. Then get me me sword before the sun comes up, will ya.
TBS: Days later...
ARL <clerk>: I'm sorry, but I can't take this check unless you sign it properly, Mr. Hutchins-
GAVOK <Gryphon, on edge>: Hudson, damn it! My NAME is Hudson! See this tag?
ARL <clerk>: Well, it's-
GAVOK <Gryphon>: SEE IT??
ARL <clerk, meekly>: Yes...
GAVOK <Gryphon>: If it says I'm Hudson, then I'm Hudson! You DO. NOT. FUCK. With the Air Force name tag. Got it?
ARL <clerk, small voice>: Yessir.
> then
> remembered that the tag on my uniform jacket said it was. Who am I to
> argue with the guys who make name tags for the Air Force?
> The APs didn't even think to argue. Soldiers are trained to
> obey authority.
ARL: Except Mellencamp. He likes to fight authority.
> Here was a woman in the uniform of a major in the
> United States Air Force, a full-access visitor's pass clipped to her
> lapel, confident, assured, supporting a badly battered fellow officer
> and speaking with a tone of complete authority. They did what
> soldiers do: they obeyed their orders. With much hustling and team
> spirit, they went to see to Guile and start that tunnel search.
> Cammy and I, meanwhile, set off in what I would assume was the
> direction of the infirmary. As soon as we were out of sight of the
> APs, she pushed me behind a dumpster - the same one, I realized, I'd
> begun my evening hiding behind. I hadn't noticed the black duffel bag
> lying on the ground next to it. Maybe it hadn't been there at the
> time.
> "Not much time," she observed. "We'll have to get you cleaned
> up a bit, you'll draw too much attention looking like this. Here, let
> me set your nose for you. We can't have it healing up all crooked,
> can we?" she added with a grin.
S.D. <Cammy>: Then you'd look like Owen Wilson.
> "No, I guess we can't," I replied,
ARL <Gryphon>: That'd be too much like tangible proof that I actually *failed* at something.
RACE <Gryphon>: ...and besides, it might effect my rakish good looks.
S.D. <Cammy>: ...right...
> sitting down with my back
> against the building wall. She knelt before me, pulling
> a first-aid kit from the duffel bag, and got out gauze and tape.
> "This will hurt a bit," she admitted, gingerly taking hold of
> my battered snout.
> I didn't really have anything to say to that, so I shrugged,
> and she straightened it. I think it actually hurt more being fixed
> than it had being broken;
GAVOK <Kalten>: I can break it for you again, if you'd like.
ARL <Sparhawk>: Thanks anyway.
> I let out a muted grunt as tears sprang to
> my eyes. Any trace of remaining daze vanished in the pain, which was
> actually good. I might be in pain, but at least now I was completely
> lucid.
> "Sorry," said Cammy apologetically as she packed my rebleeding
> nostrils with gauze and reinforced the bridge with tape. "There, that
> should do it," she said as she finished up. "You should see a proper
> doctor when you get home, but that will hold you for now."
> I blinked away the tears as the pain receded. "Tch," Cammy
> went on, shaking her head and getting out a large gauze pad. "You
> look a fright,"
ARL <Cammy>: ...and the fact that you got beat up doesn't help either.
> she went on, wiping at the tear tracks and blood on my
> face. As she worked, she leaned closer, then closer still, and it
> didn't occur to me that she was going to kiss me until our lips
> actually met.
> Considerate of the fact that I couldn't breathe through my
> nose, she kissed me gently and undemandingly.
RACE: Suck all the air out of his lungs!
ARL: No time. Use Death Blossom!
> Confused by the turn of
> events, touched by her consideration, it took me a moment to respond,
> but I quickly abandoned whatever plans I might have had for the
> evening. Her arms found their way around me as mine encircled her.
> We'd kissed before, of course, but something about this moment - this
> incongruous tenderness in the United States' most secret of secret
> places - would be burned into my memory forever as one of the key
> moments in our early relationship.
[*Gag*!]
> It was a comfortable, unhurried sort of intimacy we felt.
ARL: So! You're using forged passes and fake identities to rummage around Area 51 without permission! What do you do?
[RACE hits a bell.]
ARL: Racewing!
RACE: Grab a quick grope behind a dumpster!
ARL: Apparently correct!
> There was no heavy breathing, no furtive fumbling with fasteners, no
> sense of urgency - just a warm feeling of contentment.
S.D. <Gryphon>: Then we tore off our clothing and fucked like rabbits on speed.
ARL: That Thief kid's been a bad influence on you, Shady...
S.D.: You don't know him like I do.
ARL: Thank heaven for that.
> As I had the
> first day I knew her, I felt a little drunk with her nearness.
> "Cammy?" I murmured when I got an opening.
> "Mm?" she replied.
> "What are -you- doing here?"
RACE <Cammy>: I just contracted herpes and I needed someone to give it to.
> She chuckled, breath warm against my lips. "I -was- here to
> steal an aeroplane, but your lot seems to have carried it off before
> I arrived." Standing, she helped me up. Now that I was starting to
> feel like I lived in my body again, it wasn't as hard to stand up as
> it had been last time.
> "Lose the shirt," said Cammy, her businesslike briskness
> returning. Obligingly, I removed my bloody dress shirt and tie and
> consigned them to the dumpster.
S.D. <Cammy, covering her eyes>: AUGH! Put it back on! PUT IT BACK ON!!
> "Put the jacket back on, for now,"
> she continued. "We're not out of here yet."
> Someone had considerately left a Humvee standing parked in
> front of Building 10, so we took it. We pulled up to the guard
> station where Zoner, Meg and I had entered the base about a year ago.
MMK <Kilgore Trout>: Time is funny.
> "Sorry, Major White," said the guard as Cammy presented her
> ID. "We're under lock-down. There's been a major security problem -
> someone's stolen one of the experimental aircraft.."
> "Don't I know it," said Cammy severely. "We're going to have
> another if you don't let me pass, soldier. Captain Hudson here is the
> only person on this base who knows the codes for that aircraft's
> weapons security system, and if I don't get him to Cheyenne within the
> evening, we're going to lose whatever chance we may have of getting it
> back."
ARL: ...but wouldn't that mean that the weapons couldn't be activated without his help, so they couldn't be used?
> The guard wavered. "I haven't been informed of - "
> "Of course you haven't," said Cammy impatiently. "This is a
> national security matter, Airman.
MMK <Airman>: But Dr. Wily said nothing of this!
> That aircraft is equipped with
> thermonuclear weapons, and if I don't get Captain Hudson to Cheyenne
> in time to change those codes, whoever stole it might just decide to
> use them. They could be over Chicago in two hours, Washington in
> three. Do you want millions of deaths on your conscience?"
S.D. <Airman>: Yes! I like that sort of thing, *ma'am*!
ARL <Cammy>: Shit!
MMK <Gryphon>: Didn't see *that* one coming.
> "No, ma'am!" said the airman, saluting. "You may pass!"
> "Thank you, Airman," said Cammy, and as the gate went up, she
> returned his salute, then floored the accelerator.
GAVOK: Cammy White pops the clutch and tells Area 51 to *eat her dust*!
> I'm sure we made a
> merry sight, bouncing away up that narrow desert road that leads to
> one of the loneliest places on Earth.
ARL: An Emo Phillips film festival?
> It wasn't until two hours later, as we were pulling into Las
> Vegas in a BWM sedan and street clothes (the Humvee abandoned by
> the side of the road an hour or more behind us),
S.D.: ...along with the corpses of the BWM's former occupants...
> that I felt I could
> finally get away with relaxing, letting out a deep breath, and saying,
> "I can't believe that worked." As Cammy looked over,
> grinning, I added, "Of course, now the Air Force thinks Zoner intends
> to nuke a major city,
GAVOK: Right now, Zoner's probably trying to light a bomber joint with a plasma cannon.
> but we didn't get shot, so I'm willing to call
> it a moral victory."
ARL: For some reason, associating all that BS with the word "moral" really, *really* annoys me...
> "Doesn't matter much," said Cammy. "Even if they go on full
> alert, they'll never be able to touch Sky Dancer. What do you and
> Zoner want with it, anyway?"
TBS <Gryphon>: eBAY.
> I told her.
S.D. <Cammy>: Oh, so you're doing it so Zoner can get laid, huh?
RACE <Gryphon>: I only work for the noblest of causes.
> "That's wild," said Cammy. "Say - how soon is he expecting
> you back?"
> "Well, he has to fly back out sometime tomorrow to pick up the
> Prince, which is at the airport in Needles...
GAVOK: We'd like to thank you for flying Sweet Tooth Air. Our plane will be crashing in two minutes into Phoenix. The time is 5:56pm.
> we weren't really
> expecting me to get left behind, so we don't have a contingency plan."
> "Well, look, why not let him head home on his own? I've got
> to go do a little business in San Francisco tomorrow and then I'm at
> liberty for a week. I -was- planning to head to Worcester and look
> you up, but since you're here anyway, well... " She smiled. "Ever
> been to San Francisco?"
> "Can't say as I have." Is she inviting me to spend a week
> with her in San Francisco? Just the two of us?
ARL <Gryphon>: Guile must've gotten in a couple of good head shots.
> "Well, then, let's make a week of it," she said. "Just the
> two of us, and San Francisco."
RACE <Cammy>: We can get some Slurpees!
TBS <Gryphon>: Verily!
> I guess she is. Unfortunately...
> "I'd love to, but I can't. I have to get back as soon as I
> can."
> "What for?"
> "Well, uh... I have a houseguest."
S.D. <Gryphon>: Without me, who *knows* what wacky misadventures she'll get into?!
> By the time I finished that explanation, I was feeling
> distinctly fuzzy around the edges; the length and excitement of the
> day were taking their toll.
> "What are you going to do?" Cammy wondered, her face
> thoughtful as she turned the Beemer onto the garish expanse of the
> Strip. "She can't stay with you forever."
> "No... I suppose not. Although... "
> "What?"
> I started to reply, but it turned into a yawn. "Sorry," I
> said. "Long day... "
> "No worry," said Cammy. "Pick out a place to stay - we've no
> shortage of choices."
> "How about that new place I read about a while back, the one
> that's shaped like a pyramid... "
ARL <Chosen One>: That's French!
RACE <Betty>: Stinky pits and all, baby!
> "The Luxor?" Cammy grinned. "I thought that might appeal to
> you. The Luxor it is!"
>
> It is my distinct pleasure to inform you that, even if you
> have been soundly and professionally beaten up, the beds at the Luxor
> are of a high standard of comfort. I was asleep within minutes.
RACE: ...much to Cammy's displeasure.
S.D. <Gryphon>: Then I woke up, and my body had locked into its current position.
> Respectfully submitted,
> --G.
>
> END BATTLE 04
>
MMK: Roll end credits!
GAVOK: Remember to worship Gryphon at the Eyrie message board of your choice!
> When I awoke, I was momentarily confused to hear the
> continuing sounds of a fight.
[MMK and GAVOK open fire on the screen with light guns.]
> A quick check of my own current state -
TBS: It's good to carry a map with you where ever you go.
> lying on my back on cool concrete, dizzy and in a great deal of pain -
ARL <Gryphon>: Huh. It must be Tuesday.
> led me to conclude it wasn't -me- who was still fighting. If not me,
> though, who was it?
S.D.: The Poison Pussies have arrived!
GAVOK <Michael J. Fox>: It was Death...
[OR... both could probably work with... uh, work:]
S.D.: It was Zoner, who returned to save his one true love!
ARL: That would be really touching if it weren't so full of WRONG.
RACE: Eh, maybe Cammy and Meg'll end up hooking up.
GAVOK: Wait! Could it be...?
MMK: Yes! Fury the Wonder Dog followed them there, and now he's kicking Guile's ass!
THE LOONS: YAY! FURY!
> Maybe I was just hallucinating. But no, as I
> tried to concentrate on it, I had to believe I was really hearing it.
GAVOK <singing>: I believe!
[GAVOK air-guitars.]
GAVOK <singing>: I believe!
> -Somebody- was doing some righteous ass-kicking.
RACE: ...and that somebody... was *Tak Sakaguchi*!
[ALL cheer.]
> Convinced I was hearing it, I felt no great impulse to
> investigate further. Instead, I decided it would be best if I stayed
> where I was, taking a small amount of comfort from the coolness of the
> concrete floor.
ARL: So apparently it's the end of the world as he knows it, but he feels fine.
> It was really quite comfortable there. Comfortable
> enough that I wandered back out of consciousness again.
GAVOK: Consciousness really should install a fence one of these days.
> When I came to the second time, someone was shaking my
> shoulder and whispering. It took me several seconds to put together
> the basic fact that they were whispering to -me-, and a few more to
> get the language they were speaking sorted.
> "Can you stand?" the voice was saying, softly, in a tone and
> accent I found familiar. "We've got to get out of here."
> I pried an eye open, winced at the pain as the light outside
> invaded my skull,
ARL: ...claiming the northern lands. They entrenched themselves in the deep woodlands, making a frontal assault nearly impossible. By the time winter came, the defending forces were-
TBS: Bo-ring.
> then tried, slightly successfully, to focus on the
> person speaking to me. I knew her, I was sure I knew her... a cute
> little blue-eyed blonde with a forelock and braid, British Isles
> accent,
MMK: Oh, it's King. Got it.
[Well, if anyone can think of a fighting-game woman with long blonde hair from Britain, have at it.]
> dressed in an Air Force uniform, yes? Air Force? Only woman
> I know in the Air Force is a brunette.
> You idiot, it's Cammy.
MMK: No, you just described King.
> Oh! So it is.
TBS <Gryphon>: Thanks, voices in my head!
MMK, RACE, GAVOK <voices>: You're welcome!
RACE <voice>: Now kill her! She's full of Kegare!
> "Hi," I said.
> "Hi," she replied.
ARL: Snappy dialogue.
> "Say," I declared, frowning suspiciously. "You're supposed to
> be in Scotland."
> "Little detour on my way home," she said,
S.D. <Cammy>: I *hate* flying Vanguard.
> then repeated her
> question: "Can you stand?"
TBS <Benimaru> and MMK <Rubber Soul>: Do you understand?
S.D. <Cammy>: Get out of here!
[TBS and MMK walk away with their heads down.]
> "I dunno," I replied honestly. The punch-drunkness was
> fading, I was becoming aware that my body was not, in fact, one solid
> hurt, but rather a network of pain composed mainly of a badly bruised
> shoulder, a headache the size of Texas and a broken nose, with
> everything else registering a background-noise-level hum of aches and
> soreness.
ARL: He's been seriously beaten, and he *still* prevaricates at tiresome length.
RACE: Could even *death* stop this man's muddled verbiage?
> "I'll give it a shot."
{I'd place an Austin Powers joke here about broken legs, but I can't remember the dialogue well...}
> As I worked at remembering how to get all these aching parts
> to work together as a whole and shambled to my feet, I became aware of
> my surroundings in greater detail. Cammy -was- dressed in an Air Force
> uniform.
TBS <Gryphon, thinking>: My God! She's overdressed!
>The hangar was still right where I'd left it.
> The storm drain was open. The crumpled pile of USAF Air Police fatigues over by
> the big crate marked 'Hamdingers'
[ALL applaud mockingly.]
> was Guile. He looked like I felt.
GAVOK <Gryphon>: He looked like Van Dam, and I felt *damn* tired.
> Actually, he was still unconscious, so it's more accurate to say he
> looked like I would rather have felt.
> "Hey," I observed. "You beat up Guile."
> Cammy smiled a little as she briskly helped me on with my Air
> Force uniform jacket. "The job does have its fringe benefits from
> time to time."
MMK <Cammy>: Dental plan, car loan, jobbing Air Force jocks...
> "That wasn't a nice thing to say," I chided her as she guided
> me toward the door. OK, so maybe the punch-drunkness wasn't fading
> all that fast.
> "I'll write him a letter of apology."
S.D. <Cammy>: "Dear Bitch, oh, I mean *Guile*--"
RACE <Cammy, continuing>: "I apologize for schooling you like a red-headed stepchild..."
> "Well, that's OK, then."
> "Right, now just follow my lead and let me do the talking, and
> we'll get out of here. All right?"
> "Ten-four. You look great in uniform, y'know."
RACE <Gryphon>: You'd look even better out of it...
S.D.: Lame.
RACE: Geez, what do you WANT from me? I used up all my good material in the beginning?
[S.D. blinks.]
S.D.: *That* was your *good* material?
[RACE growls.]
> "Thank you. Now hush."
> "Oki-doki."
> We'd limped, arms over shoulders, to the door by that time.
> Shooting back the bolt, she shoved the door open, and we went right
> out into the group of APs, who were still standing tensely around the
> doorway, wondering what to do. They'd set up a couple of bright
> floodlamps,
GAVOK <AP>: Are you now, or have you ever been, a member of the Communist party?!
> and I restrained an impulse to cringe and hiss,
> vampire-style.
TBS: Augh! Photons!
RACE: You shut your filthy mouth.
> "You lot, see to Captain Guile and start a search of the drain
> and transport tunnels!" Cammy barked in an impressive voice of
> command.
>"I'll get Captain Hudson to the infirmary."
> I considered protesting that my name isn't Hudson,
S.D. <Cammy>: Your name is whatever *I* say it is, beefstick!
MMK <Gryphon>: Aye, lass. Then get me me sword before the sun comes up, will ya.
TBS: Days later...
ARL <clerk>: I'm sorry, but I can't take this check unless you sign it properly, Mr. Hutchins-
GAVOK <Gryphon, on edge>: Hudson, damn it! My NAME is Hudson! See this tag?
ARL <clerk>: Well, it's-
GAVOK <Gryphon>: SEE IT??
ARL <clerk, meekly>: Yes...
GAVOK <Gryphon>: If it says I'm Hudson, then I'm Hudson! You DO. NOT. FUCK. With the Air Force name tag. Got it?
ARL <clerk, small voice>: Yessir.
> then
> remembered that the tag on my uniform jacket said it was. Who am I to
> argue with the guys who make name tags for the Air Force?
> The APs didn't even think to argue. Soldiers are trained to
> obey authority.
ARL: Except Mellencamp. He likes to fight authority.
> Here was a woman in the uniform of a major in the
> United States Air Force, a full-access visitor's pass clipped to her
> lapel, confident, assured, supporting a badly battered fellow officer
> and speaking with a tone of complete authority. They did what
> soldiers do:
RACE: Acted like frat boys and wolf-whistled?
>they obeyed their orders. With much hustling and team
> spirit, they went to see to Guile and start that tunnel search.
> Cammy and I, meanwhile, set off in what I would assume was the
> direction of the infirmary. As soon as we were out of sight of the
> APs, she pushed me behind a dumpster - the same one, I realized, I'd
> begun my evening hiding behind. I hadn't noticed the black duffel bag
> lying on the ground next to it. Maybe it hadn't been there at the
> time.
> "Not much time," she observed. "We'll have to get you cleaned
> up a bit, you'll draw too much attention looking like this. Here, let
> me set your nose for you. We can't have it healing up all crooked,
> can we?" she added with a grin.
S.D. <Cammy>: Then you'd look like Owen Wilson.
> "No, I guess we can't," I replied,
ARL <Gryphon>: That'd be too much like tangible proof that I actually *failed* at something.
RACE <Gryphon>: ...and besides, it might effect my rakish good looks.
S.D. <Cammy>: ...right...
> sitting down with my back
> against the building wall. She knelt before me, pulling
> a first-aid kit from the duffel bag, and got out gauze and tape.
> "This will hurt a bit," she admitted, gingerly taking hold of
> my battered snout.
> I didn't really have anything to say to that, so I shrugged,
> and she straightened it. I think it actually hurt more being fixed
> than it had being broken;
GAVOK <Kalten>: I can break it for you again, if you'd like.
ARL <Sparhawk>: Thanks anyway.
> I let out a muted grunt as tears sprang to
> my eyes. Any trace of remaining daze vanished in the pain, which was
> actually good. I might be in pain, but at least now I was completely
> lucid.
> "Sorry," said Cammy apologetically as she packed my rebleeding
> nostrils with gauze and reinforced the bridge with tape. "There, that
> should do it," she said as she finished up. "You should see a proper
> doctor when you get home, but that will hold you for now."
> I blinked away the tears as the pain receded. "Tch," Cammy
> went on, shaking her head and getting out a large gauze pad. "You
> look a fright,"
ARL <Cammy>: ...and the fact that you got beat up doesn't help either.
> she went on, wiping at the tear tracks and blood on my
> face. As she worked, she leaned closer, then closer still, and it
> didn't occur to me
RACE: ...to look down her cleavage?
[ALL blink.]
TBS <doubtful>: Yeah, right!
>that she was going to kiss me until our lips
> actually met.
> Considerate of the fact that I couldn't breathe through my
> nose, she kissed me gently and undemandingly.
RACE: Suck all the air out of his lungs!
ARL: No time. Use Death Blossom!
> Confused by the turn of
> events, touched by her consideration, it took me a moment to respond,
> but I quickly abandoned whatever plans I might have had for the
> evening. Her arms found their way around me as mine encircled her.
> We'd kissed before, of course, but something about this moment - this
> incongruous tenderness in the United States' most secret of secret
> places - would be burned into my memory forever as one of the key
> moments in our early relationship.
[*Gag*!]
> It was a comfortable, unhurried sort of intimacy we felt.
ARL: So! You're using forged passes and fake identities to rummage around Area 51 without permission! What do you do?
[RACE hits a bell.]
ARL: Racewing!
RACE: Grab a quick grope behind a dumpster!
ARL: Apparently correct!
> There was no heavy breathing, no furtive fumbling with fasteners, no
> sense of urgency - just a warm feeling of contentment.
S.D. <Gryphon>: Then we tore off our clothing and fucked like rabbits on speed.
ARL: That Thief kid's been a bad influence on you, Shady...
S.D.: You don't know him like I do.
ARL: Thank heaven for that.
> As I had the
> first day I knew her, I felt a little drunk with her nearness.
> "Cammy?" I murmured when I got an opening.
> "Mm?" she replied.
> "What are -you- doing here?"
RACE <Cammy>: I just contracted herpes and I needed someone to give it to.
> She chuckled, breath warm against my lips. "I -was- here to
> steal an aeroplane, but your lot seems to have carried it off before
> I arrived." Standing, she helped me up. Now that I was starting to
> feel like I lived in my body again, it wasn't as hard to stand up as
> it had been last time.
> "Lose the shirt," said Cammy, her businesslike briskness
> returning. Obligingly, I removed my bloody dress shirt and tie and
> consigned them to the dumpster.
S.D. <Cammy, covering her eyes>: AUGH! Put it back on! PUT IT BACK ON!!
> "Put the jacket back on, for now,"
> she continued. "We're not out of here yet."
> Someone had considerately left a Humvee standing parked in
> front of Building 10, so we took it. We pulled up to the guard
> station where Zoner, Meg and I had entered the base about a year ago.
MMK <Kilgore Trout>: Time is funny.
> "Sorry, Major White," said the guard as Cammy presented her
> ID. "We're under lock-down. There's been a major security problem -
> someone's stolen one of the experimental aircraft.."
> "Don't I know it," said Cammy severely. "We're going to have
> another if you don't let me pass, soldier. Captain Hudson here is the
> only person on this base who knows the codes for that aircraft's
> weapons security system, and if I don't get him to Cheyenne within the
> evening, we're going to lose whatever chance we may have of getting it
> back."
ARL: ...but wouldn't that mean that the weapons couldn't be activated without his help, so they couldn't be used?
> The guard wavered. "I haven't been informed of - "
> "Of course you haven't," said Cammy impatiently. "This is a
> national security matter, Airman.
MMK <Airman>: But Dr. Wily said nothing of this!
> That aircraft is equipped with
> thermonuclear weapons, and if I don't get Captain Hudson to Cheyenne
> in time to change those codes, whoever stole it might just decide to
> use them. They could be over Chicago in two hours, Washington in
> three. Do you want millions of deaths on your conscience?"
S.D. <Airman>: Yes! I like that sort of thing, *ma'am*!
ARL <Cammy>: Shit!
MMK <Gryphon>: Didn't see *that* one coming.
> "No, ma'am!" said the airman, saluting. "You may pass!"
> "Thank you, Airman," said Cammy, and as the gate went up, she
> returned his salute, then floored the accelerator.
GAVOK: Cammy White pops the clutch and tells Area 51 to *eat her dust*!
> I'm sure we made a
> merry sight, bouncing away up that narrow desert road that leads to
> one of the loneliest places on Earth.
ARL: An Emo Phillips film festival?
> It wasn't until two hours later, as we were pulling into Las
> Vegas in a BWM sedan and street clothes (the Humvee abandoned by
> the side of the road an hour or more behind us),
S.D.: ...along with the corpses of the BWM's former occupants...
> that I felt I could
> finally get away with relaxing, letting out a deep breath, and saying,
> "I can't believe that worked." As Cammy looked over,
> grinning, I added, "Of course, now the Air Force thinks Zoner intends
> to nuke a major city,
GAVOK: Right now, Zoner's probably trying to light a bomber joint with a plasma cannon.
> but we didn't get shot, so I'm willing to call
> it a moral victory."
ARL: For some reason, associating all that BS with the word "moral" really, *really* annoys me...
> "Doesn't matter much," said Cammy. "Even if they go on full
> alert, they'll never be able to touch Sky Dancer. What do you and
> Zoner want with it, anyway?"
TBS <Gryphon>: eBAY.
> I told her.
S.D. <Cammy>: Oh, so you're doing it so Zoner can get laid, huh?
RACE <Gryphon>: I only work for the noblest of causes.
> "That's wild," said Cammy. "Say - how soon is he expecting
> you back?"
> "Well, he has to fly back out sometime tomorrow to pick up the
> Prince, which is at the airport in Needles...
GAVOK: We'd like to thank you for flying Sweet Tooth Air. Our plane will be crashing in two minutes into Phoenix. The time is 5:56pm.
> we weren't really
> expecting me to get left behind, so we don't have a contingency plan."
> "Well, look, why not let him head home on his own? I've got
> to go do a little business in San Francisco tomorrow and then I'm at
> liberty for a week. I -was- planning to head to Worcester and look
> you up, but since you're here anyway, well... " She smiled. "Ever
> been to San Francisco?"
> "Can't say as I have." Is she inviting me to spend a week
> with her in San Francisco? Just the two of us?
ARL <Gryphon>: Guile must've gotten in a couple of good head shots.
> "Well, then, let's make a week of it," she said. "Just the
> two of us, and San Francisco."
RACE <Cammy>: We can get some Slurpees!
TBS <Gryphon>: Verily!
> I guess she is. Unfortunately...
> "I'd love to, but I can't. I have to get back as soon as I
> can."
> "What for?"
> "Well, uh... I have a houseguest."
S.D. <Gryphon>: Without me, who *knows* what wacky misadventures she'll get into?!
> By the time I finished that explanation, I was feeling
> distinctly fuzzy around the edges; the length and excitement of the
> day were taking their toll.
> "What are you going to do?" Cammy wondered, her face
> thoughtful as she turned the Beemer onto the garish expanse of the
> Strip. "She can't stay with you forever."
> "No... I suppose not. Although... "
> "What?"
> I started to reply, but it turned into a yawn. "Sorry," I
> said. "Long day... "
> "No worry," said Cammy. "Pick out a place to stay - we've no
> shortage of choices."
> "How about that new place I read about a while back, the one
> that's shaped like a pyramid... "
ARL <Chosen One>: That's French!
RACE <Betty>: Stinky pits and all, baby!
> "The Luxor?" Cammy grinned. "I thought that might appeal to
> you. The Luxor it is!"
>
> It is my distinct pleasure to inform you that, even if you
> have been soundly and professionally beaten up, the beds at the Luxor
> are of a high standard of comfort. I was asleep within minutes.
RACE: ...much to Cammy's displeasure.
S.D. <Gryphon>: Then I woke up, and my body had locked into its current position.
> Respectfully submitted,
ARL: ...for the approval of the Midnight Society...
> --G.
>
> END BATTLE 04
>
MMK: Roll end credits!
GAVOK: Remember to worship Gryphon at the Eyrie message board of your choice!
TBS: Bring your sacrificial anime babe for consecration every first Friday of the month.
There's more to Needles than just serial killer clowns.
by
> When I awoke, I was momentarily confused to hear the
> continuing sounds of a fight.
[MMK and GAVOK open fire on the screen with light guns.]
> A quick check of my own current state -
TBS: It's good to carry a map with you where ever you go.
> lying on my back on cool concrete, dizzy and in a great deal of pain -
ARL <Gryphon>: Huh. It must be Tuesday.
> led me to conclude it wasn't -me- who was still fighting. If not me,
> though, who was it?
S.D.: The Poison Pussies have arrived!
GAVOK <Michael J. Fox>: It was Death...
[OR... both could probably work with... uh, work:]
S.D.: It was Zoner, who returned to save his one true love!
ARL: That would be really touching if it weren't so full of WRONG.
RACE: Eh, maybe Cammy and Meg'll end up hooking up.
GAVOK: Wait! Could it be...?
MMK: Yes! Fury the Wonder Dog followed them there, and now he's kicking Guile's ass!
THE LOONS: YAY! FURY!
> Maybe I was just hallucinating. But no, as I
> tried to concentrate on it, I had to believe I was really hearing it.
GAVOK <singing>: I believe!
[GAVOK air-guitars.]
GAVOK <singing>: I believe!
> -Somebody- was doing some righteous ass-kicking.
RACE: ...and that somebody... was *Tak Sakaguchi*!
[ALL cheer.]
> Convinced I was hearing it, I felt no great impulse to
> investigate further. Instead, I decided it would be best if I stayed
> where I was, taking a small amount of comfort from the coolness of the
> concrete floor.
ARL: So apparently it's the end of the world as he knows it, but he feels fine.
> It was really quite comfortable there. Comfortable
> enough that I wandered back out of consciousness again.
GAVOK: Consciousness really should install a fence one of these days.
> When I came to the second time, someone was shaking my
> shoulder and whispering. It took me several seconds to put together
> the basic fact that they were whispering to -me-, and a few more to
> get the language they were speaking sorted.
> "Can you stand?" the voice was saying, softly, in a tone and
> accent I found familiar. "We've got to get out of here."
> I pried an eye open, winced at the pain as the light outside
> invaded my skull,
ARL: ...claiming the northern lands. They entrenched themselves in the deep woodlands, making a frontal assault nearly impossible. By the time winter came, the defending forces were-
TBS: Bo-ring.
> then tried, slightly successfully, to focus on the
> person speaking to me. I knew her, I was sure I knew her... a cute
> little blue-eyed blonde with a forelock and braid, British Isles
> accent,
MMK: Oh, it's King. Got it.
[Well, if anyone can think of a fighting-game woman with long blonde hair from Britain, have at it.]
> dressed in an Air Force uniform, yes? Air Force? Only woman
> I know in the Air Force is a brunette.
> You idiot, it's Cammy.
MMK: No, you just described King.
> Oh! So it is.
TBS <Gryphon>: Thanks, voices in my head!
MMK, RACE, GAVOK <voices>: You're welcome!
RACE <voice>: Now kill her! She's full of Kegare!
> "Hi," I said.
> "Hi," she replied.
ARL: Snappy dialogue.
> "Say," I declared, frowning suspiciously. "You're supposed to
> be in Scotland."
> "Little detour on my way home," she said,
S.D. <Cammy>: I *hate* flying Vanguard.
> then repeated her
> question: "Can you stand?"
TBS <Benimaru> and MMK <Rubber Soul>: Do you understand?
S.D. <Cammy>: Get out of here!
[TBS and MMK walk away with their heads down.]
> "I dunno," I replied honestly. The punch-drunkness was
> fading, I was becoming aware that my body was not, in fact, one solid
> hurt, but rather a network of pain composed mainly of a badly bruised
> shoulder, a headache the size of Texas and a broken nose, with
> everything else registering a background-noise-level hum of aches and
> soreness.
ARL: He's been seriously beaten, and he *still* prevaricates at tiresome length.
RACE: Could even *death* stop this man's muddled verbiage?
> "I'll give it a shot."
{I'd place an Austin Powers joke here about broken legs, but I can't remember the dialogue well...}
> As I worked at remembering how to get all these aching parts
> to work together as a whole and shambled to my feet, I became aware of
> my surroundings in greater detail. Cammy -was- dressed in an Air Force
> uniform.
TBS <Gryphon, thinking>: My God! She's overdressed!
>The hangar was still right where I'd left it.
> The storm drain was open. The crumpled pile of USAF Air Police fatigues over by
> the big crate marked 'Hamdingers'
[ALL applaud mockingly.]
> was Guile. He looked like I felt.
GAVOK <Gryphon>: He looked like Van Dam, and I felt *damn* tired.
> Actually, he was still unconscious, so it's more accurate to say he
> looked like I would rather have felt.
> "Hey," I observed. "You beat up Guile."
> Cammy smiled a little as she briskly helped me on with my Air
> Force uniform jacket. "The job does have its fringe benefits from
> time to time."
MMK <Cammy>: Dental plan, car loan, jobbing Air Force jocks...
> "That wasn't a nice thing to say," I chided her as she guided
> me toward the door. OK, so maybe the punch-drunkness wasn't fading
> all that fast.
> "I'll write him a letter of apology."
S.D. <Cammy>: "Dear Bitch, oh, I mean *Guile*--"
RACE <Cammy, continuing>: "I apologize for schooling you like a red-headed stepchild..."
> "Well, that's OK, then."
> "Right, now just follow my lead and let me do the talking, and
> we'll get out of here. All right?"
> "Ten-four. You look great in uniform, y'know."
RACE <Gryphon>: You'd look even better out of it...
S.D.: Lame.
RACE: Geez, what do you WANT from me? I used up all my good material in the beginning?
[S.D. blinks.]
S.D.: *That* was your *good* material?
[RACE growls.]
> "Thank you. Now hush."
> "Oki-doki."
> We'd limped, arms over shoulders, to the door by that time.
> Shooting back the bolt, she shoved the door open, and we went right
> out into the group of APs, who were still standing tensely around the
> doorway, wondering what to do. They'd set up a couple of bright
> floodlamps,
GAVOK <AP>: Are you now, or have you ever been, a member of the Communist party?!
> and I restrained an impulse to cringe and hiss,
> vampire-style.
TBS: Augh! Photons!
RACE: You shut your filthy mouth.
> "You lot, see to Captain Guile and start a search of the drain
> and transport tunnels!" Cammy barked in an impressive voice of
> command.
>"I'll get Captain Hudson to the infirmary."
> I considered protesting that my name isn't Hudson,
S.D. <Cammy>: Your name is whatever *I* say it is, beefstick!
MMK <Gryphon>: Aye, lass. Then get me me sword before the sun comes up, will ya.
TBS: Days later...
ARL <clerk>: I'm sorry, but I can't take this check unless you sign it properly, Mr. Hutchins-
GAVOK <Gryphon, on edge>: Hudson, damn it! My NAME is Hudson! See this tag?
ARL <clerk>: Well, it's-
GAVOK <Gryphon>: SEE IT??
ARL <clerk, meekly>: Yes...
GAVOK <Gryphon>: If it says I'm Hudson, then I'm Hudson! You DO. NOT. FUCK. With the Air Force name tag. Got it?
ARL <clerk, small voice>: Yessir.
> then
> remembered that the tag on my uniform jacket said it was. Who am I to
> argue with the guys who make name tags for the Air Force?
> The APs didn't even think to argue. Soldiers are trained to
> obey authority.
ARL: Except Mellencamp. He likes to fight authority.
> Here was a woman in the uniform of a major in the
> United States Air Force, a full-access visitor's pass clipped to her
> lapel, confident, assured, supporting a badly battered fellow officer
> and speaking with a tone of complete authority. They did what
> soldiers do:
RACE: Acted like frat boys and wolf-whistled?
>they obeyed their orders. With much hustling and team
> spirit, they went to see to Guile and start that tunnel search.
> Cammy and I, meanwhile, set off in what I would assume was the
> direction of the infirmary. As soon as we were out of sight of the
> APs, she pushed me behind a dumpster - the same one, I realized, I'd
> begun my evening hiding behind. I hadn't noticed the black duffel bag
> lying on the ground next to it. Maybe it hadn't been there at the
> time.
> "Not much time," she observed. "We'll have to get you cleaned
> up a bit, you'll draw too much attention looking like this. Here, let
> me set your nose for you. We can't have it healing up all crooked,
> can we?" she added with a grin.
S.D. <Cammy>: Then you'd look like Owen Wilson.
> "No, I guess we can't," I replied,
ARL <Gryphon>: That'd be too much like tangible proof that I actually *failed* at something.
RACE <Gryphon>: ...and besides, it might effect my rakish good looks.
S.D. <Cammy>: ...right...
> sitting down with my back
> against the building wall. She knelt before me, pulling
> a first-aid kit from the duffel bag, and got out gauze and tape.
> "This will hurt a bit," she admitted, gingerly taking hold of
> my battered snout.
> I didn't really have anything to say to that, so I shrugged,
> and she straightened it. I think it actually hurt more being fixed
> than it had being broken;
GAVOK <Kalten>: I can break it for you again, if you'd like.
ARL <Sparhawk>: Thanks anyway.
> I let out a muted grunt as tears sprang to
> my eyes. Any trace of remaining daze vanished in the pain, which was
> actually good. I might be in pain, but at least now I was completely
> lucid.
> "Sorry," said Cammy apologetically as she packed my rebleeding
> nostrils with gauze and reinforced the bridge with tape. "There, that
> should do it," she said as she finished up. "You should see a proper
> doctor when you get home, but that will hold you for now."
> I blinked away the tears as the pain receded. "Tch," Cammy
> went on, shaking her head and getting out a large gauze pad. "You
> look a fright,"
ARL <Cammy>: ...and the fact that you got beat up doesn't help either.
> she went on, wiping at the tear tracks and blood on my
> face. As she worked, she leaned closer, then closer still, and it
> didn't occur to me
RACE: ...to look down her cleavage?
[ALL blink.]
TBS <doubtful>: Yeah, right!
>that she was going to kiss me until our lips
> actually met.
> Considerate of the fact that I couldn't breathe through my
> nose, she kissed me gently and undemandingly.
RACE: Suck all the air out of his lungs!
ARL: No time. Use Death Blossom!
> Confused by the turn of
> events, touched by her consideration, it took me a moment to respond,
> but I quickly abandoned whatever plans I might have had for the
> evening. Her arms found their way around me as mine encircled her.
> We'd kissed before, of course, but something about this moment - this
> incongruous tenderness in the United States' most secret of secret
> places - would be burned into my memory forever as one of the key
> moments in our early relationship.
[*Gag*!]
> It was a comfortable, unhurried sort of intimacy we felt.
ARL: So! You're using forged passes and fake identities to rummage around Area 51 without permission! What do you do?
[RACE hits a bell.]
ARL: Racewing!
RACE: Grab a quick grope behind a dumpster!
ARL: Apparently correct!
> There was no heavy breathing, no furtive fumbling with fasteners, no
> sense of urgency - just a warm feeling of contentment.
S.D. <Gryphon>: Then we tore off our clothing and fucked like rabbits on speed.
ARL: That Thief kid's been a bad influence on you, Shady...
S.D.: You don't know him like I do.
ARL: Thank heaven for that.
> As I had the
> first day I knew her, I felt a little drunk with her nearness.
> "Cammy?" I murmured when I got an opening.
> "Mm?" she replied.
> "What are -you- doing here?"
RACE <Cammy>: I just contracted herpes and I needed someone to give it to.
> She chuckled, breath warm against my lips. "I -was- here to
> steal an aeroplane, but your lot seems to have carried it off before
> I arrived." Standing, she helped me up. Now that I was starting to
> feel like I lived in my body again, it wasn't as hard to stand up as
> it had been last time.
> "Lose the shirt," said Cammy, her businesslike briskness
> returning. Obligingly, I removed my bloody dress shirt and tie and
> consigned them to the dumpster.
S.D. <Cammy, covering her eyes>: AUGH! Put it back on! PUT IT BACK ON!!
> "Put the jacket back on, for now,"
> she continued. "We're not out of here yet."
> Someone had considerately left a Humvee standing parked in
> front of Building 10, so we took it. We pulled up to the guard
> station where Zoner, Meg and I had entered the base about a year ago.
MMK <Kilgore Trout>: Time is funny.
> "Sorry, Major White," said the guard as Cammy presented her
> ID. "We're under lock-down. There's been a major security problem -
> someone's stolen one of the experimental aircraft.."
> "Don't I know it," said Cammy severely. "We're going to have
> another if you don't let me pass, soldier. Captain Hudson here is the
> only person on this base who knows the codes for that aircraft's
> weapons security system, and if I don't get him to Cheyenne within the
> evening, we're going to lose whatever chance we may have of getting it
> back."
ARL: ...but wouldn't that mean that the weapons couldn't be activated without his help, so they couldn't be used?
> The guard wavered. "I haven't been informed of - "
> "Of course you haven't," said Cammy impatiently. "This is a
> national security matter, Airman.
MMK <Airman>: But Dr. Wily said nothing of this!
> That aircraft is equipped with
> thermonuclear weapons, and if I don't get Captain Hudson to Cheyenne
> in time to change those codes, whoever stole it might just decide to
> use them. They could be over Chicago in two hours, Washington in
> three. Do you want millions of deaths on your conscience?"
S.D. <Airman>: Yes! I like that sort of thing, *ma'am*!
ARL <Cammy>: Shit!
MMK <Gryphon>: Didn't see *that* one coming.
> "No, ma'am!" said the airman, saluting. "You may pass!"
> "Thank you, Airman," said Cammy, and as the gate went up, she
> returned his salute, then floored the accelerator.
GAVOK: Cammy White pops the clutch and tells Area 51 to *eat her dust*!
> I'm sure we made a
> merry sight, bouncing away up that narrow desert road that leads to
> one of the loneliest places on Earth.
ARL: An Emo Phillips film festival?
> It wasn't until two hours later, as we were pulling into Las
> Vegas in a BWM sedan and street clothes (the Humvee abandoned by
> the side of the road an hour or more behind us),
S.D.: ...along with the corpses of the BWM's former occupants...
> that I felt I could
> finally get away with relaxing, letting out a deep breath, and saying,
> "I can't believe that worked." As Cammy looked over,
> grinning, I added, "Of course, now the Air Force thinks Zoner intends
> to nuke a major city,
GAVOK: Right now, Zoner's probably trying to light a bomber joint with a plasma cannon.
> but we didn't get shot, so I'm willing to call
> it a moral victory."
ARL: For some reason, associating all that BS with the word "moral" really, *really* annoys me...
> "Doesn't matter much," said Cammy. "Even if they go on full
> alert, they'll never be able to touch Sky Dancer. What do you and
> Zoner want with it, anyway?"
TBS <Gryphon>: eBAY.
> I told her.
S.D. <Cammy>: Oh, so you're doing it so Zoner can get laid, huh?
RACE <Gryphon>: I only work for the noblest of causes.
> "That's wild," said Cammy. "Say - how soon is he expecting
> you back?"
> "Well, he has to fly back out sometime tomorrow to pick up the
> Prince, which is at the airport in Needles...
GAVOK: We'd like to thank you for flying Sweet Tooth Air. Our plane will be crashing in two minutes into Phoenix. The time is 5:56pm.
RACE: Hey, maybe they could mess around with the Howitzer and the three-legged prostitute while they're there...
ARL: Or they could have a grand old time with the Cult of the Mushroom Cloud.
RACE: Better them than the Hubologists.
> we weren't really
> expecting me to get left behind, so we don't have a contingency plan."
> "Well, look, why not let him head home on his own? I've got
> to go do a little business in San Francisco tomorrow and then I'm at
> liberty for a week. I -was- planning to head to Worcester and look
> you up, but since you're here anyway, well... " She smiled. "Ever
> been to San Francisco?"
> "Can't say as I have." Is she inviting me to spend a week
> with her in San Francisco? Just the two of us?
ARL <Gryphon>: Guile must've gotten in a couple of good head shots.
> "Well, then, let's make a week of it," she said. "Just the
> two of us, and San Francisco."
RACE <Cammy>: We can get some Slurpees!
TBS <Gryphon>: Verily!
> I guess she is. Unfortunately...
> "I'd love to, but I can't. I have to get back as soon as I
> can."
> "What for?"
> "Well, uh... I have a houseguest."
S.D. <Gryphon>: Without me, who *knows* what wacky misadventures she'll get into?!
> By the time I finished that explanation, I was feeling
> distinctly fuzzy around the edges; the length and excitement of the
> day were taking their toll.
> "What are you going to do?" Cammy wondered, her face
> thoughtful as she turned the Beemer onto the garish expanse of the
> Strip. "She can't stay with you forever."
> "No... I suppose not. Although... "
> "What?"
> I started to reply, but it turned into a yawn. "Sorry," I
> said. "Long day... "
> "No worry," said Cammy. "Pick out a place to stay - we've no
> shortage of choices."
> "How about that new place I read about a while back, the one
> that's shaped like a pyramid... "
ARL <Chosen One>: That's French!
RACE <Betty>: Stinky pits and all, baby!
> "The Luxor?" Cammy grinned. "I thought that might appeal to
> you. The Luxor it is!"
>
> It is my distinct pleasure to inform you that, even if you
> have been soundly and professionally beaten up, the beds at the Luxor
> are of a high standard of comfort. I was asleep within minutes.
RACE: ...much to Cammy's displeasure.
S.D. <Gryphon>: Then I woke up, and my body had locked into its current position.
> Respectfully submitted,
ARL: ...for the approval of the Midnight Society...
> --G.
>
> END BATTLE 04
>
MMK: Roll end credits!
GAVOK: Remember to worship Gryphon at the Eyrie message board of your choice!
TBS: Bring your sacrificial anime babe for consecration every first Friday of the month.
>
> G
> The next morning, after lingering in bed as long as I could
> possibly justify it to myself, I got up, showered, took the dog for a
> walk, and then went to deal with the day's arduous job.
> This is the kind of task that no high-school or college-level
> English class can really prepare a person for: calling a retired
> government scientist up out of the blue, as a total stranger, and
> recruiting him for a project that wanders around the jagged edge of
> legality. Fortunately, I didn't have to approach it cold; I may not
> have as many connections as Zoner, but I have good ones.
> "Who are you calling first?" Zoner asked as I plonked down on
> the couch and picked up the phone. "Dr. Sharp?"
> "No," I replied. "Benton Quest."
> Zoner looked perplexed. "Who?"
> "Benton Quest," I repeated. "You know. Founder of the Quest
> Foundation. President of Quest Industries. Seeker of ancient wisdom.
> That Benton Quest."
> "You know Benton Quest? You never mentioned it before."
> "Yeah, I went to high school with his son." Gryphon chuckled.
> "Not that Jonny showed up for school much. He was usually busy
> scrounging around the world seeking the unknown."
> "You have some pretty out-there connections," Zoner observed.
> "Et tu, Mr. I-Have-Jim-Greer-On-Speed-Dial?" I replied. "I
> hope they're home... they aren't, all that often."
> "What are you calling Benton Quest for?"
> "Shh! It's ringing."
> Fortunately, they were home; after three rings, there was a
> click, and a familiar voice answered,
> "Quest Compound."
> "Hey, Race!" I replied. "How's business?"
> "Who is this?" Race Bannon's voice replied, sounding puzzled.
> "You don't recognize my voice?" I said, trying to put as much
> disappointment in my tone as I could.
> "No," replied Race. "Should I?"
> "Well, I'll give you a hint," I said. "I'm the smartass who
> gave you the 'World's Greatest Mom' mug for Christmas one year."
> For a moment, I thought he might have forgotten; as the
> silence stretched into two moments I began to suspect he remembered,
> but no longer found it as amusing as he had then. Then I realized
> he'd muted the phone so I wouldn't be deafened by his guffawing into
> the receiver. He came back on, his voice a little shaky with residual
> chuckles, to exchange some pleasantries.
> "Hey, is Dr. Quest handy?" I asked afterward. "I've got a few
> questions for him."
> "Sure, hold on... let me put you on speaker," said Race.
> "Wish I had one of those cool video phones you guys make," I
> said.
> "You'd need ISDN," Race replied.
> "Oh, well, hell, forget that," I scoffed. "By the time NYNEX
> gets around to installing it, humanity will have developed long-range
> telepathy."
> Race chuckled again, and then the sound became wide,
> cavernous, and echoey.
> "Hello? Hello? Is this thing on?"
> "Go ahead, Ben," came the voice of Benton Quest.
> "Well, I don't know any slick way of jumping into this, so
> I'll just go directly, I guess. Do you know a couple of scientists,
> names of Amadeus Sharp and Rudy Wells?"
> "I've met Dr. Sharp a few times, yes, at conferences," replied
> Quest. "I know him to say hello to. Dr. Wells I only know by
> reputation. Why?"
> "Well, I've got a proposition for you, and I needed to make
> sure you didn't have any sort of weird scientist rivalry with them,
> 'cause they're involved."
> "I see." He had that intrigued tone I knew him to get from
> time to time. It was a good sign.
> "Well, it's like this. Ever heard of the Bionic Six?"
>
> MZ
> While Ben was busy calling around, I prowled around online.
> Greer's info confirmed what I had suspected. Most of the Bionic Six's
> equipment was stored in Sky Dancer, which in turn was stored at Area
> 51 in Nevada. That figured, I expected it, but wasn't exactly pleased
> about it. It was going to take some work getting in and out of there.
> The remainder of the equipment was scattered about. The OSI
> offices and the SPL had been gutted, nothing left there. Dr. Sharp
> had managed to keep most of his critical instruments; I hoped Ben was
> able to convince him to sign on. It looked like most of the major
> bionizing equipment was stored at an Army research lab - I'm wasn't
> sure I wanted to know what they were doing with it. Maybe I'll ask
> Greer someday, maybe not. It didn't matter much anyway - I didn't
> anticipate needing to bionize anyone else.
> A few other items had gone to various DARPA contractors as
> technology demonstrators, but since there was only Meg we didn't need
> to equip a team. With Sky Dancer, the Mule, and a couple of quad
> runners all stored together, I figured that's all we would need.
> Of course, we still had to get it. That was easier said than
> done.
> We could try a straight sneak, but the chance of that
> succeeding was roughly the same as those of a good Highlander sequel
> coming out. I wasn't ready to die or visit scenic Leavenworth just
> yet, so I tossed that idea. Trying to spoof our way in might work,
> but it wasn't really solid. I wasn't sure just how far we could get
> on faked credentials. What we really needed were credentials that at
> least worked as if they were real. They didn't have to exactly -be-
> real. So that was what I would try for.
> I figured the best thing to do was get a number of agencies
> set up so that they were requesting the inventory from each other, a
> Gordian knot of red tape. Hopefully anyone who pokes their nose into
> it would tire off following the links, and anyone who didn't would end
> up back where they started, and would probably assume they had screwed
> up and try again. And, with any luck, Greer's help would keep them
> from finding out the truth.
> If we could just make it out of there with the goods, we
> should be safe. Getting in and out was going to be nervy. But
> doable.
> I had to get started on the paper trail.
> I'm not sure how long I worked at it; when I get into the
> groove on a project like that, time ceases to have any meaning. For
> that matter, so do most other things. All that matters is the endless
> duel - computers, their legitimate operators, and me. Inserting
> records into government computers is a lot easier than pulling data
> out, though; they don't put as many safeguards on them. Who would
> want to put information -into- a computer they've breached
> illegitimately?
> It was just dumb luck that I noticed Ben was wrapping up his
> phone conversation; glancing at my watch, I realized it had been
> nearly two hours since we both began.
> He hung up the phone and looked up to see me watching. This
> went on for a couple of seconds, until finally I said, "Well?"
> "Well what?"
> "Well aren't you going to call the others?"
> "Nah," Ben replied. "Dr. Q's going to take care of that for me.
> In fact, he's going to take care of almost everything - all we have to
> do is get the stuff and take it up to Maine."
> "Maine? Why Maine?"
> "Because," he said, "the Quest Foundation has agreed to
> provide space and funding for the Tactical Applications Center for the
> Advanced Cybernetic Sciences."
> "TACACS?!"
> "We could always call it Bureau Eight of Zone Services."
> "No, TACACS will do."
> "What about your end?"
> "It'll take me a few days to call in all the markers I'm going
> to have to call, but I've got the basic battle plan laid out."
> "Well, that works out, then. Dr. Quest will need a few days
> to settle everything on his end too - and I have a fight tomorrow,
> don't forget."
> "Oh yeah... I -had- forgotten. Darn... and here I was hoping
> to finish all this up this weekend."
> "A good violation of Federal law should never be rushed," said
> Gryphon philosophically. Before I could come up with a good comeback
> for that, the doorbell rang. "I'll get it," Gryph continued, tramping
> around the corner by the kitchen to answer it. I heard the sounds of a
> cheerful reception, which meant it probably wasn't a solicitor, and a
> moment later, he returned to the living room, laughing, with a friend
> of ours.
> At a glance, Ken Masters looks like a surfer dude, except that
> he lives in the wrong part of the country; he's around five-ten and
> buffed, with long reddish-gold hair and a face that usually had a
> rakish grin. There's only good surfing off the Massachusetts coast
> when a stray hurricane whacks into the South Cape (although Ken has
> balls enough to go surfing when that happens), but people who call
> his good looks Californian are right anyway - he's originally from
> someplace in the San Francisco Bay Area, and his parents are
> absolutely loaded. They make me look like a welfare case.
> The fact that Ken is used to having money is obvious by the
> way he dresses -- here he was having an informal visit with some pals,
> and sporting a $1200 Armani "casual" suit. Some guys just gotta
> flaunt it, I guess. Armani -is- comfortable stuff, though. I
> wondered if he'd driven over in the Porsche or the Vector. Now that's
> a sweet set of wheels.
> I met Ken through Gryph - he's one of Gryph's oldest friends
> from the fight circuit, and eight of Ben's sixty-seven fights on
> that circuit were with him, more than with any other fighter Ben's
> opposed. I would probably have known of him anyway, since he's one of
> the only fighters in that circuit to do any 'legitimate' fighting,
> which has made him more famous than most. He's even been in a couple
> of really bad movies, one of which is called - I kid you not -
> "Revenge of the Vengeful Ninja Warrior II: The Vengeance". (Actually,
> Ben's in that one too, for about six seconds; he's the random cop who
> takes out two of the evil ninjas with his nightstick and then catches
> a shuriken in the forehead.)
> "Hey, Zoner," said Ken, clapping me on the shoulder as he
> passed my chair. "How goes?"
> "Not too bad," I replied. "You?"
> "Oh, same old," Ken replied, plopping down on the couch. Fury
> looked up from his station next to the sofa, checking out the new
> arrival; since it was someone he knew, he didn't get too excited.
> (Actually, I've never seen Fury get too excited about anything.)
> "Hey, Fury!" said Ken, scratching the hound's ears. "How's a
> pup? Huh?" He looked up at Gryph, who was taking a seat on the
> opposite couch, and grinned. "Katie and John keep pestering me to get
> them a dog. Maybe I should hit Brother Tommy up for a puppy."
> "A bloodhound? In the heart of downtown Boston? Probably not
> the best of ideas."
> "Well, we're down there on the harbor, and I go for my run
> every day. He'd get enough exercise. Wouldn't you, boy?"
> "Hey! Get your own," said Gryph, tossing a paperclip
> playfully at Ken.
> Ken grinned and leaned back. "Yeah, well... maybe I will.
> Hey, you guys eat yet?"
> "Nope," Ben replied. "I was planning to make pizza later.
> Why, has Eliza stopped feeding you?"
> Ken chuckled. "C'mon, man, have you ever known a time when I
> wasn't hungry? No, Liza and the kids went out to the Cape for the
> weekend. She sends her love, but she said the kids are still too
> young to be going to fights with their father."
> "Should've known you didn't just come to see us," I
> remarked.
> "Well, you know how it is, guys," said Ken with a smug smile.
> "I can't get her to let me out of her sight all that often."
> "Crack that whip," I replied, wiping away the smugness, if
> not the smile.
> "Yeah, well, maybe it's what I needed," he said. "You get to
> a point where you've got to have something to come home to, or it just
> doesn't seem worth it any more. At least, I did."
> Coincidentally, I'd been having similar thoughts, and from the
> look of his face, Ben had, too. Curiouser and curiouser.
> The doorbell rang again.
> "It's for you," Gryph and I said in unison. Ken blinked, then
> got up, grumbling good-naturedly as he went to answer the door. I
> heard the sound of the lock being worked, then Ken greeting a familiar
> voice.
> "Well, hey, looks who's here!" announced Ken as he returned to
> the living room. "It's a surprise visit from everybody's favorite
> jarhead!"
> A beefy arm seized Ken from behind, hauling him down and back,
> and the grinning face that appeared over his shoulder said, "You young
> layabouts are all the same, making fun of the Corps. I think a little
> military service would have done you a world of good!"
> "I'd throw you over, Charlie, but I imagine it'd piss Zoner
> off if you went flying through his picture window," replied Ken from
> within the headlock.
> "It would be amusing, seeing as it's bulletproof acrylic.
> Take a closer look." Ken smirked a bit; Charlie just kind of blinked.
> "Might be worth it just for the image," said Gryph with a
> grin. "Now quit manhandling the other guests and sit down. Boy... at
> this rate I'm going to have to go out for more supplies before I
> attempt making supper... "
> "I'm in time for chow call? An unexpected bonus!" said our
> newest arrival, Gunnery Sergeant Charlie Nash, USMC. Gryph and I
> hauled his butt out of a Shadolu prison camp in Thailand a couple
> years back, and we've been friends ever since. I don't know how he
> gets away with that hairdo in the Corps, but I guess he's got enough
> seniority to get away with it, or just enough brownie points banked up
> for all the special operations he's been in on.
> "You're looking well, Marine," said Ken as he and Charlie took
> seats on opposite couches.
> "Yeah, I feel good, too," replied Charlie. "In fact, I feel
> better than ever. Guile's been on my ass to train up for the fight
> circuit so I can join him. He's got this grand idea that the two of
> us together can do this Lone-Ranger-and-Tonto thing and bring down
> Shadolu all by ourselves." He grinned. "Personally, I'm hoping it's
> just a phase he's going through." The grin faded as memories
> intruded, and he went on more seriously, "I'd feel a lot better
> dealing with Shadolu with about a company of my fellow Marines
> watching my back. That leader of theirs is a serious freak job. I
> don't think he's human."
> Ken grinned. "Hardly the attitude I'd expect from a big,
> tough Marine like you."
> "Hey, man, don't get me wrong: I eat nails for breakfast, but
> I'm not stupid. You're going up against a guy who can fly and read
> minds, you better bring some seriously heavy weaponry to the table."
> Gryphon nodded, the mention of Bison turning him grave and
> contemplative, if only for a moment. Then he reached to the end table
> and grabbed a notebook, clicking a pen into readiness.
> "OK, so, since I have to do a little unexpected shopping, are
> there any special topping requests? Nails for Charlie, any others?"
> Charlie laughed. "Hold the nails, I'm off duty."
> "No fish," said Ken. "Other than that, it doesn't really
> matter to me."
> "OK, that's one no nails, one no fish... " said Ben,
> exaggeratedly jotting on the notebook.
> The doorbell rang. Gryph looked up, blinking. "ANOTHER
> unexpected visitor?"
> "Busy night," Charlie observed. "Do your neighbors know you
> fight?"
> "Most of the City of Worcester knows he fights," I said with a
> grin. "He's quite the local celebrity."
> "Yeah, me and Jerry Harrison," he replied wryly, naming the
> weatherman at Worcester's only TV station, WORC Channel 66. "Charlie,
> it's for you."
> "Sir yes SIR!" Charlie replied, jumping up from the couch and
> doing his best Marine Hustle to the foyer. "Hel-LO!" came his deep
> voice after the sound of the door being opened. "Ben said it was for
> me, but I don't think I'm destined to be that lucky today."
> "Well," said Rose airily as she breezed past him into the
> living room, "if I ever find myself in the market again, I'll be sure
> to keep you in mind."
> "Rose!" chorused Gryphon and Ken, punctuated by a deep "Woof!"
> from Fury that may well have meant the same thing in Dog.
> "Boys," Rose replied, taking a seat on the red couch next to
> Ben. "You're having a busy evening," she remarked to him.
> "Yeah, it's a non-stop festival of surprises tonight." He
> held up his notebook. "What do you want on -your- pizza?"
> "Oh, I'm in time for dinner, how fortunate," said Rose with a
> smile that said luck had little to do with it.
> "Well, y'know, now that we've got more than four people, it's
> officially a prefight party," he replied.
> The doorbell rang.
> "Egad!" said Gryphon.
> "It's for me," Rose observed, and she went to get the door as
> Ken and Charlie launched into a reminiscence of the first time Ken met
> Guile (barroom brawl, San Francisco, 1987, if you're curious). Gryph
> and I had heard it before, but we still got quite a laugh out of it.
>
> G
> The next morning, after lingering in bed as long as I could
> possibly justify it to myself, I got up, showered, took the dog for a
> walk, and then went to deal with the day's arduous job.
ARL: Working as a bingo caller.
> This is the kind of task that no high-school or college-level
> English class can really prepare a person for:
RACE: Waxing Zoner's disgustingly hairy back.
> calling a retired
> government scientist up out of the blue, as a total stranger, and
> recruiting him for a project that wanders around the jagged edge of
> legality. Fortunately, I didn't have to approach it cold; I may not
> have as many connections as Zoner, but I have good ones.
TBS <interviewer>: Just how did you know about the stocks going down, Mr. Hutchins?
MMK <Gryphon>: Excuse me, I'm making a salad.
> "Who are you calling first?" Zoner asked as I plonked down on
> the couch and picked up the phone. "Dr. Sharp?"
> "No," I replied. "Benton Quest."
GAVOK: Unfortunately he's too busy in a custody battle along with Harvey Birdman, Attorney at Law!
> Zoner looked perplexed. "Who?"
> "Benton Quest," I repeated. "You know. Founder of the Quest
> Foundation. President of Quest Industries. Seeker of ancient wisdom.
> That Benton Quest."
> "You know Benton Quest?
GAVOK <drunken Zoner>: I KNOW Benton Quest!
MMK <drunken Gryphon>: Then let me buy you a round!
> You never mentioned it before."
> "Yeah, I went to high school with his son." Gryphon chuckled.
S.D.: He's really letting this go to his head. Now he's talking in third person.
> "Not that Jonny showed up for school much. He was usually busy
> scrounging around the world seeking the unknown."
RACE <Gryphon>: Because you know, hot chicks covered in body paint are neat.
> "You have some pretty out-there connections," Zoner observed.
> "Et tu, Mr. I-Have-Jim-Greer-On-Speed-Dial?" I replied. "I
> hope they're home... they aren't, all that often."
> "What are you calling Benton Quest for?"
TBS <Gryphon>: I need a ride to the supermarket and your car smells.
> "Shh! It's ringing."
> Fortunately, they were home; after three rings, there was a
> click, and a familiar voice answered,
> "Quest Compound."
> "Hey, Race!"
RACE: Hiya.
> I replied. "How's business?"
> "Who is this?" Race Bannon's voice replied, sounding puzzled.
> "You don't recognize my voice?" I said, trying to put as much
> disappointment in my tone as I could.
> "No," replied Race. "Should I?"
> "Well, I'll give you a hint," I said. "I'm the smartass who
> gave you the 'World's Greatest Mom' mug for Christmas one year."
MMK <Race>: Oh, that could be anybody.
> For a moment, I thought he might have forgotten; as the
> silence stretched into two moments I began to suspect he remembered,
> but no longer found it as amusing as he had then. Then I realized
> he'd muted the phone so I wouldn't be deafened by his guffawing into
> the receiver. He came back on, his voice a little shaky with residual
> chuckles, to exchange some pleasantries.
> "Hey, is Dr. Quest handy?" I asked afterward. "I've got a few
> questions for him."
GAVOK <Randal Graves>: Why do they call him Silent Bob anyways?
> "Sure, hold on... let me put you on speaker," said Race.
> "Wish I had one of those cool video phones you guys make," I
> said.
> "You'd need ISDN," Race replied.
> "Oh, well, hell, forget that," I scoffed. "By the time NYNEX
> gets around to installing it, humanity will have developed long-range
> telepathy."
> Race chuckled again, and then the sound became wide,
> cavernous, and echoey.
> "Hello? Hello? Is this thing on?"
> "Go ahead, Ben," came the voice of Benton Quest.
> "Well, I don't know any slick way of jumping into this, so
> I'll just go directly, I guess. Do you know a couple of scientists,
> names of Amadeus Sharp and Rudy Wells?"
> "I've met Dr. Sharp a few times, yes, at conferences," replied
> Quest. "I know him to say hello to. Dr. Wells I only know by
> reputation. Why?"
S.D. <Gryphon>: Do you know if he likes me?
> "Well, I've got a proposition for you, and I needed to make
> sure you didn't have any sort of weird scientist rivalry with them,
> 'cause they're involved."
ARL <Quest>: Well there was that one time I created 8 killer robots to do yard work and he stole them and reprogrammed them for evil. But that's water under the bridge!
> "I see." He had that intrigued tone I knew him to get from
> time to time. It was a good sign.
> "Well, it's like this. Ever heard of the Bionic Six?"
GAVOK <Quest>: Wasn't Dr. Octopus a member?
MMK <Gryphon>: No, that's the Sinister Six.
GAVOK <Quest>: What about Lee the scared cowboy?
MMK <Gryphon>: No, that's the Magnificent Seven.
GAVOK <Quest>: Okay okay. The Bionic Six are the guys who fight the Coyotes using car combat.
MMK <Gryphon>: No, that's the Vigilante 8.
GAVOK <Quest>: Oh. Then what is the Bionic Six?
MMK <Gryphon>: It's that movie where Rocky beats up the Russian. Duh!
>
> MZ
> While Ben was busy calling around, I prowled around online.
S.D. <Zoner>: This ninja site rules!
> Greer's info confirmed what I had suspected.
GAVOK: Bruce Wayne really is Batman.
> Most of the Bionic Six's
> equipment was stored in Sky Dancer, which in turn was stored at Area
> 51 in Nevada. That figured, I expected it, but wasn't exactly pleased
> about it. It was going to take some work getting in and out of there.
> The remainder of the equipment was scattered about. The OSI
> offices and the SPL had been gutted, nothing left there. Dr. Sharp
> had managed to keep most of his critical instruments; I hoped Ben was
> able to convince him to sign on. It looked like most of the major
> bionizing equipment was stored at an Army research lab - I'm wasn't
> sure I wanted to know what they were doing with it. Maybe I'll ask
> Greer someday, maybe not. It didn't matter much anyway - I didn't
> anticipate needing to bionize anyone else.
TBS: Bionize an egg! That would rock!
> A few other items had gone to various DARPA contractors as
> technology demonstrators, but since there was only Meg we didn't need
> to equip a team. With Sky Dancer, the Mule, and a couple of quad
> runners all stored together, I figured that's all we would need.
> Of course, we still had to get it. That was easier said than
> done.
> We could try a straight sneak, but the chance of that
> succeeding was roughly the same as those of a good Highlander sequel
> coming out. I wasn't ready to die or visit scenic Leavenworth just
> yet, so I tossed that idea. Trying to spoof our way in might work,
> but it wasn't really solid. I wasn't sure just how far we could get
> on faked credentials. What we really needed were credentials that at
> least worked as if they were real. They didn't have to exactly -be-
> real. So that was what I would try for.
> I figured the best thing to do was get a number of agencies
> set up so that they were requesting the inventory from each other, a
> Gordian knot of red tape. Hopefully anyone who pokes their nose into
> it would tire off following the links, and anyone who didn't would end
> up back where they started, and would probably assume they had screwed
> up and try again. And, with any luck, Greer's help would keep them
> from finding out the truth.
> If we could just make it out of there with the goods, we
> should be safe. Getting in and out was going to be nervy. But
> doable.
> I had to get started on the paper trail.
GAVOK <singing>: Caught up 'tween the conflict of his brain and his tail.
> I'm not sure how long I worked at it; when I get into the
> groove on a project like that, time ceases to have any meaning. For
> that matter, so do most other things.
MMK: In other words, there's no change to the ending of the new Planet of the Apes.
> All that matters is the endless
> duel
GAVOK: MEEP MEEP!
(MMK holds up a sign saying "Genius")
- computers, their legitimate operators, and me. Inserting
> records into government computers is a lot easier than pulling data
> out, though; they don't put as many safeguards on them. Who would
> want to put information -into- a computer they've breached
> illegitimately?
> It was just dumb luck that I noticed Ben was wrapping up his
> phone conversation; glancing at my watch, I realized it had been
> nearly two hours since we both began.
> He hung up the phone and looked up to see me watching. This
> went on for a couple of seconds, until finally I said, "Well?"
> "Well what?"
> "Well aren't you going to call the others?"
> "Nah," Ben replied. "Dr. Q's going to take care of that for me.
GAVOK <Q>: .........................(This won't hurt a bit)
> In fact, he's going to take care of almost everything - all we have to
> do is get the stuff and take it up to Maine."
> "Maine? Why Maine?"
> "Because," he said, "the Quest Foundation has agreed to
> provide space and funding for the Tactical Applications Center for the
> Advanced Cybernetic Sciences."
> "TACACS?!"
> "We could always call it Bureau Eight of Zone Services."
> "No, TACACS will do."
> "What about your end?"
> "It'll take me a few days to call in all the markers I'm going
> to have to call, but I've got the basic battle plan laid out."
MMK <Gryphon>: You take the big guy with the beard...
TBS <Zoner>: Okay.
MMK <Gryphon>: And I'll take on the goldfish he's holding in that bowl.
TBS <Zoner>: Okay. Hey!
> "Well, that works out, then. Dr. Quest will need a few days
> to settle everything on his end too - and I have a fight tomorrow,
> don't forget."
> "Oh yeah... I -had- forgotten. Darn... and here I was hoping
> to finish all this up this weekend."
> "A good violation of Federal law should never be rushed," said
> Gryphon philosophically. Before I could come up with a good comeback
> for that, the doorbell rang. "I'll get it," Gryph continued, tramping
> around the corner by the kitchen to answer it. I heard the sounds of a
> cheerful reception, which meant it probably wasn't a solicitor, and a
> moment later, he returned to the living room, laughing, with a friend
> of ours.
GAVOK: Here's hoping for Don Knotts as the wacky landlord.
> At a glance, Ken Masters
GAVOK: Aw...
> looks like a surfer dude, except that
> he lives in the wrong part of the country;
MMK: IN A VAN DOWN BY THE RIVER!
> he's around five-ten and
> buffed, with long reddish-gold hair and a face that usually had a
> rakish grin. There's only good surfing off the Massachusetts coast
> when a stray hurricane whacks into the South Cape (although Ken has
> balls enough to go surfing when that happens), but people who call
> his good looks Californian are right anyway - he's originally from
> someplace in the San Francisco Bay Area, and his parents are
> absolutely loaded. They make me look like a welfare case.
> The fact that Ken is used to having money is obvious by the
> way he dresses -- here he was having an informal visit with some pals,
> and sporting a $1200 Armani "casual" suit. Some guys just gotta
> flaunt it, I guess. Armani -is- comfortable stuff, though. I
> wondered if he'd driven over in the Porsche or the Vector. Now that's
> a sweet set of wheels.
> I met Ken through Gryph - he's one of Gryph's oldest friends
> from the fight circuit, and eight of Ben's sixty-seven fights on
> that circuit were with him, more than with any other fighter Ben's
> opposed. I would probably have known of him anyway, since he's one of
> the only fighters in that circuit to do any 'legitimate' fighting,
> which has made him more famous than most. He's even been in a couple
> of really bad movies, one of which is called - I kid you not -
> "Revenge of the Vengeful Ninja Warrior II: The Vengeance".
GAVOK: You... you're not Cynthia! You... you're one of the Vengeful Ninja Warriors on the Vengeance! II!
> (Actually,
> Ben's in that one too, for about six seconds; he's the random cop who
> takes out two of the evil ninjas with his nightstick and then catches
> a shuriken in the forehead.)
> "Hey, Zoner," said Ken, clapping me on the shoulder as he
> passed my chair. "How goes?"
> "Not too bad," I replied. "You?"
> "Oh, same old," Ken replied, plopping down on the couch.
ARL: There goes the quality of the Armani.
> Fury
> looked up from his station next to the sofa, checking out the new
> arrival; since it was someone he knew, he didn't get too excited.
> (Actually, I've never seen Fury get too excited about anything.)
> "Hey, Fury!" said Ken, scratching the hound's ears. "How's a
> pup?
MMK: Delicious!
> Huh?" He looked up at Gryph, who was taking a seat on the
> opposite couch, and grinned. "Katie and John keep pestering me to get
> them a dog. Maybe I should hit Brother Tommy up for a puppy."
> "A bloodhound? In the heart of downtown Boston? Probably not
> the best of ideas."
> "Well, we're down there on the harbor, and I go for my run
> every day. He'd get enough exercise. Wouldn't you, boy?"
> "Hey! Get your own," said Gryph, tossing a paperclip
> playfully at Ken.
MMK <Ken>: Fuck that! C'mon, paperclip! Fetch! I'll call you Spot! You're a good little paperclip, aren't you? Aren't you?
> Ken grinned and leaned back. "Yeah, well... maybe I will.
> Hey, you guys eat yet?"
> "Nope," Ben replied. "I was planning to make pizza later.
> Why, has Eliza stopped feeding you?"
> Ken chuckled. "C'mon, man, have you ever known a time when I
> wasn't hungry?
RACE <Zoner>: There was that one time...
GAVOK <Honda>: Hey, anyone know where my pants are at?
TBS <Ken>: I've suddenly lost my appetite.
> No, Liza and the kids went out to the Cape for the
> weekend. She sends her love, but she said the kids are still too
> young to be going to fights with their father."
MMK: Kim, Genan and Terry will have more balls then you will ever know.
> "Should've known you didn't just come to see us," I
> remarked.
> "Well, you know how it is, guys," said Ken with a smug smile.
> "I can't get her to let me out of her sight all that often."
> "Crack that whip," I replied, wiping away the smugness, if
> not the smile.
ARL <Ken>: Actually, I'm fighting Ralf tomorrow. But you were close.
> "Yeah, well, maybe it's what I needed," he said. "You get to
> a point where you've got to have something to come home to, or it just
> doesn't seem worth it any more. At least, I did."
> Coincidentally, I'd been having similar thoughts, and from the
> look of his face, Ben had, too. Curiouser and curiouser.
> The doorbell rang again.
MMK: And in enters Ryan Styles, pretending to be a lion tamer.
> "It's for you," Gryph and I said in unison. Ken blinked, then
> got up, grumbling good-naturedly as he went to answer the door. I
> heard the sound of the lock being worked, then Ken greeting a familiar
> voice.
> "Well, hey, looks who's here!" announced Ken as he returned to
> the living room. "It's a surprise visit from everybody's favorite
> jarhead!"
GAVOK: Chang Koehan!
> A beefy arm seized Ken from behind, hauling him down and back,
> and the grinning face that appeared over his shoulder said, "You young
> layabouts are all the same, making fun of the Corps. I think a little
> military service would have done you a world of good!"
> "I'd throw you over, Charlie,
GAVOK: Aw.
MMK: There there.
> but I imagine it'd piss Zoner
> off if you went flying through his picture window,"
MMK: That was a big turning point in Ken's career when he became heel and broke up the Rockers.
> replied Ken from
> within the headlock.
> "It would be amusing, seeing as it's bulletproof acrylic.
> Take a closer look." Ken smirked a bit; Charlie just kind of blinked.
> "Might be worth it just for the image," said Gryph with a
> grin. "Now quit manhandling the other guests and sit down. Boy... at
> this rate I'm going to have to go out for more supplies before I
> attempt making supper... "
> "I'm in time for chow call? An unexpected bonus!" said our
> newest arrival, Gunnery Sergeant Charlie Nash, USMC. Gryph and I
> hauled his butt out of a Shadolu prison camp in Thailand a couple
> years back, and we've been friends ever since. I don't know how he
> gets away with that hairdo in the Corps, but I guess he's got enough
> seniority to get away with it, or just enough brownie points banked up
> for all the special operations he's been in on.
> "You're looking well, Marine," said Ken as he and Charlie took
> seats on opposite couches.
> "Yeah, I feel good, too," replied Charlie. "In fact, I feel
> better than ever. Guile's been on my ass to train up for the fight
> circuit so I can join him. He's got this grand idea that the two of
> us together can do this Lone-Ranger-and-Tonto thing and bring down
> Shadolu all by ourselves."
GAVOK (takes out a pad): Guile and Charlie as the Lone Ranger and Tonto.
RACE: What are you doing?
GAVOK: Ideas for RECBT.
> He grinned. "Personally, I'm hoping it's
> just a phase he's going through." The grin faded as memories
> intruded, and he went on more seriously, "I'd feel a lot better
> dealing with Shadolu with about a company of my fellow Marines
> watching my back. That leader of theirs is a serious freak job. I
> don't think he's human."
> Ken grinned. "Hardly the attitude I'd expect from a big,
> tough Marine like you."
> "Hey, man, don't get me wrong: I eat nails for breakfast,
TBS <Apollo Creed>: N-n-n-nails!
> but
> I'm not stupid. You're going up against a guy who can fly and read
> minds, you better bring some seriously heavy weaponry to the table."
> Gryphon nodded, the mention of Bison turning him grave and
> contemplative, if only for a moment. Then he reached to the end table
> and grabbed a notebook, clicking a pen into readiness.
> "OK, so, since I have to do a little unexpected shopping, are
> there any special topping requests? Nails for Charlie, any others?"
> Charlie laughed. "Hold the nails, I'm off duty."
> "No fish," said Ken. "Other than that, it doesn't really
> matter to me."
> "OK, that's one no nails, one no fish... " said Ben,
> exaggeratedly jotting on the notebook.
> The doorbell rang. Gryph looked up, blinking. "ANOTHER
> unexpected visitor?"
> "Busy night," Charlie observed. "Do your neighbors know you
> fight?"
> "Most of the City of Worcester knows he fights," I said with a
> grin. "He's quite the local celebrity."
> "Yeah, me and Jerry Harrison," he replied wryly, naming the
> weatherman at Worcester's only TV station, WORC Channel 66. "Charlie,
> it's for you."
GAVOK <Charlie>: General Thundertrunks, what are you doing here?
> "Sir yes SIR!" Charlie replied, jumping up from the couch and
> doing his best Marine Hustle to the foyer. "Hel-LO!" came his deep
> voice after the sound of the door being opened. "Ben said it was for
> me, but I don't think I'm destined to be that lucky today."
> "Well," said Rose airily as she breezed past him into the
> living room, "if I ever find myself in the market again, I'll be sure
> to keep you in mind."
> "Rose!" chorused Gryphon and Ken, punctuated by a deep "Woof!"
S.D.: What's W4 doing there?
> from Fury that may well have meant the same thing in Dog.
> "Boys," Rose replied, taking a seat on the red couch next to
> Ben. "You're having a busy evening," she remarked to him.
> "Yeah, it's a non-stop festival of surprises tonight." He
> held up his notebook. "What do you want on -your- pizza?"
> "Oh, I'm in time for dinner, how fortunate," said Rose with a
> smile that said luck had little to do with it.
> "Well, y'know, now that we've got more than four people, it's
> officially a prefight party," he replied.
> The doorbell rang.
> "Egad!" said Gryphon.
> "It's for me," Rose observed, and she went to get the door as
> Ken and Charlie launched into a reminiscence of the first time Ken met
> Guile (barroom brawl, San Francisco, 1987, if you're curious).
RACE: Ah, so if we're going with Street Fighter 2 V as canon, does that mean Ken is a blatant homosexual in this?
> Gryph
> and I had heard it before, but we still got quite a laugh out of it.
> G
> The next morning, after lingering in bed as long as I could
> possibly justify it to myself, I got up, showered, took the dog for a
> walk, and then went to deal with the day's arduous job.
ARL: Working as a bingo caller.
> This is the kind of task that no high-school or college-level
> English class can really prepare a person for:
RACE: Waxing Zoner's disgustingly hairy back.
> calling a retired
> government scientist up out of the blue, as a total stranger, and
> recruiting him for a project that wanders around the jagged edge of
> legality. Fortunately, I didn't have to approach it cold; I may not
> have as many connections as Zoner, but I have good ones.
TBS <interviewer>: Just how did you know about the stocks going down, Mr. Hutchins?
MMK <Gryphon>: Excuse me, I'm making a salad.
> "Who are you calling first?" Zoner asked as I plonked down on
> the couch and picked up the phone. "Dr. Sharp?"
> "No," I replied. "Benton Quest."
GAVOK: Unfortunately he's too busy in a custody battle along with Harvey Birdman, Attorney at Law!
> Zoner looked perplexed. "Who?"
> "Benton Quest," I repeated. "You know. Founder of the Quest
> Foundation. President of Quest Industries. Seeker of ancient wisdom.
> That Benton Quest."
> "You know Benton Quest?
GAVOK <drunken Zoner>: I KNOW Benton Quest!
MMK <drunken Gryphon>: Then let me buy you a round!
> You never mentioned it before."
> "Yeah, I went to high school with his son." Gryphon chuckled.
S.D.: He's really letting this go to his head. Now he's talking in third person.
> "Not that Jonny showed up for school much. He was usually busy
> scrounging around the world seeking the unknown."
RACE <Gryphon>: Because you know, hot chicks covered in body paint are neat.
> "You have some pretty out-there connections," Zoner observed.
> "Et tu, Mr. I-Have-Jim-Greer-On-Speed-Dial?" I replied. "I
> hope they're home... they aren't, all that often."
> "What are you calling Benton Quest for?"
TBS <Gryphon>: I need a ride to the supermarket and your car smells.
> "Shh! It's ringing."
> Fortunately, they were home; after three rings, there was a
> click, and a familiar voice answered,
> "Quest Compound."
> "Hey, Race!"
RACE: Hiya.
> I replied. "How's business?"
> "Who is this?" Race Bannon's voice replied, sounding puzzled.
> "You don't recognize my voice?" I said, trying to put as much
> disappointment in my tone as I could.
> "No," replied Race. "Should I?"
> "Well, I'll give you a hint," I said. "I'm the smartass who
> gave you the 'World's Greatest Mom' mug for Christmas one year."
MMK <Race>: Oh, that could be anybody.
> For a moment, I thought he might have forgotten; as the
> silence stretched into two moments I began to suspect he remembered,
> but no longer found it as amusing as he had then. Then I realized
> he'd muted the phone so I wouldn't be deafened by his guffawing into
> the receiver. He came back on, his voice a little shaky with residual
> chuckles, to exchange some pleasantries.
> "Hey, is Dr. Quest handy?" I asked afterward. "I've got a few
> questions for him."
GAVOK <Randal Graves>: Why do they call him Silent Bob anyways?
> "Sure, hold on... let me put you on speaker," said Race.
> "Wish I had one of those cool video phones you guys make," I
> said.
> "You'd need ISDN," Race replied.
> "Oh, well, hell, forget that," I scoffed. "By the time NYNEX
> gets around to installing it, humanity will have developed long-range
> telepathy."
> Race chuckled again, and then the sound became wide,
> cavernous, and echoey.
> "Hello? Hello? Is this thing on?"
> "Go ahead, Ben," came the voice of Benton Quest.
> "Well, I don't know any slick way of jumping into this, so
> I'll just go directly, I guess. Do you know a couple of scientists,
> names of Amadeus Sharp and Rudy Wells?"
> "I've met Dr. Sharp a few times, yes, at conferences," replied
> Quest. "I know him to say hello to. Dr. Wells I only know by
> reputation. Why?"
S.D. <Gryphon>: Do you know if he likes me?
> "Well, I've got a proposition for you, and I needed to make
> sure you didn't have any sort of weird scientist rivalry with them,
> 'cause they're involved."
ARL <Quest>: Well there was that one time I created 8 killer robots to do yard work and he stole them and reprogrammed them for evil. But that's water under the bridge!
> "I see." He had that intrigued tone I knew him to get from
> time to time. It was a good sign.
> "Well, it's like this. Ever heard of the Bionic Six?"
GAVOK <Quest>: Wasn't Dr. Octopus a member?
MMK <Gryphon>: No, that's the Sinister Six.
GAVOK <Quest>: What about Lee the scared cowboy?
MMK <Gryphon>: No, that's the Magnificent Seven.
GAVOK <Quest>: Okay okay. The Bionic Six are the guys who fight the Coyotes using car combat.
MMK <Gryphon>: No, that's the Vigilante 8.
GAVOK <Quest>: Oh. Then what is the Bionic Six?
MMK <Gryphon>: It's that movie where Rocky beats up the Russian. Duh!
>
> MZ
> While Ben was busy calling around, I prowled around online.
S.D. <Zoner>: This ninja site rules!
TBS: And by "rules" I mean "is totally sweet".
> Greer's info confirmed what I had suspected.
GAVOK: Bruce Wayne really is Batman.
> Most of the Bionic Six's
> equipment was stored in Sky Dancer, which in turn was stored at Area
> 51 in Nevada. That figured, I expected it, but wasn't exactly pleased
> about it. It was going to take some work getting in and out of there.
> The remainder of the equipment was scattered about. The OSI
> offices and the SPL had been gutted, nothing left there. Dr. Sharp
> had managed to keep most of his critical instruments; I hoped Ben was
> able to convince him to sign on. It looked like most of the major
> bionizing equipment was stored at an Army research lab - I'm wasn't
> sure I wanted to know what they were doing with it. Maybe I'll ask
> Greer someday, maybe not. It didn't matter much anyway - I didn't
> anticipate needing to bionize anyone else.
TBS: Bionize an egg! That would rock!
> A few other items had gone to various DARPA contractors as
> technology demonstrators, but since there was only Meg we didn't need
> to equip a team. With Sky Dancer, the Mule, and a couple of quad
> runners all stored together, I figured that's all we would need.
> Of course, we still had to get it. That was easier said than
> done.
> We could try a straight sneak, but the chance of that
> succeeding was roughly the same as those of a good Highlander sequel
> coming out. I wasn't ready to die or visit scenic Leavenworth just
> yet, so I tossed that idea. Trying to spoof our way in might work,
> but it wasn't really solid. I wasn't sure just how far we could get
> on faked credentials. What we really needed were credentials that at
> least worked as if they were real. They didn't have to exactly -be-
> real. So that was what I would try for.
> I figured the best thing to do was get a number of agencies
> set up so that they were requesting the inventory from each other, a
> Gordian knot of red tape.
GAVOK <Tomax>: Your fault!
MMK <Xamot>: His fault!
GAVOK <Tomax>: Your fault!
MMK <Xamot>: His fault!
> Hopefully anyone who pokes their nose into
> it would tire off following the links, and anyone who didn't would end
> up back where they started, and would probably assume they had screwed
> up and try again. And, with any luck, Greer's help would keep them
> from finding out the truth.
> If we could just make it out of there with the goods, we
> should be safe. Getting in and out was going to be nervy. But
> doable.
> I had to get started on the paper trail.
GAVOK <singing>: Caught up 'tween the conflict of his brain and his tail.
> I'm not sure how long I worked at it; when I get into the
> groove on a project like that, time ceases to have any meaning. For
> that matter, so do most other things.
MMK: In other words, there's no change to the ending of the new Planet of the Apes.
> All that matters is the endless
> duel
GAVOK: MEEP MEEP!
(MMK holds up a sign saying "Genius")
- computers, their legitimate operators, and me. Inserting
> records into government computers is a lot easier than pulling data
> out, though; they don't put as many safeguards on them. Who would
> want to put information -into- a computer they've breached
> illegitimately?
> It was just dumb luck that I noticed Ben was wrapping up his
> phone conversation; glancing at my watch, I realized it had been
> nearly two hours since we both began.
> He hung up the phone and looked up to see me watching. This
> went on for a couple of seconds, until finally I said, "Well?"
> "Well what?"
> "Well aren't you going to call the others?"
> "Nah," Ben replied. "Dr. Q's going to take care of that for me.
GAVOK <Q>: .........................(This won't hurt a bit)
> In fact, he's going to take care of almost everything - all we have to
> do is get the stuff and take it up to Maine."
> "Maine? Why Maine?"
> "Because," he said, "the Quest Foundation has agreed to
> provide space and funding for the Tactical Applications Center for the
> Advanced Cybernetic Sciences."
> "TACACS?!"
> "We could always call it Bureau Eight of Zone Services."
> "No, TACACS will do."
> "What about your end?"
> "It'll take me a few days to call in all the markers I'm going
> to have to call, but I've got the basic battle plan laid out."
MMK <Gryphon>: You take the big guy with the beard...
TBS <Zoner>: Okay.
MMK <Gryphon>: And I'll take on the goldfish he's holding in that bowl.
TBS <Zoner>: Okay. Hey!
> "Well, that works out, then. Dr. Quest will need a few days
> to settle everything on his end too - and I have a fight tomorrow,
> don't forget."
> "Oh yeah... I -had- forgotten. Darn... and here I was hoping
> to finish all this up this weekend."
> "A good violation of Federal law should never be rushed," said
> Gryphon philosophically. Before I could come up with a good comeback
> for that, the doorbell rang. "I'll get it," Gryph continued, tramping
> around the corner by the kitchen to answer it. I heard the sounds of a
> cheerful reception, which meant it probably wasn't a solicitor, and a
> moment later, he returned to the living room, laughing, with a friend
> of ours.
GAVOK: Here's hoping for Don Knotts as the wacky landlord.
> At a glance, Ken Masters
GAVOK: Aw...
> looks like a surfer dude, except that
> he lives in the wrong part of the country;
MMK: IN A VAN DOWN BY THE RIVER!
> he's around five-ten and
> buffed, with long reddish-gold hair and a face that usually had a
> rakish grin. There's only good surfing off the Massachusetts coast
> when a stray hurricane whacks into the South Cape (although Ken has
> balls enough to go surfing when that happens),
ARL: Zangief jogs naked in Siberian winters, Ken goes surfing in hurricane-force waves...obviously, Hutchins thinks being a Street Fighter requires the survival instincts of a lemming. The Psygnosis kind.
RACE: Dude, chill. Your ears are starting to bleed.
> but people who call
> his good looks Californian are right anyway - he's originally from
> someplace in the San Francisco Bay Area, and his parents are
> absolutely loaded. They make me look like a welfare case.
> The fact that Ken is used to having money is obvious by the
> way he dresses -- here he was having an informal visit with some pals,
> and sporting a $1200 Armani "casual" suit. Some guys just gotta
> flaunt it, I guess. Armani -is- comfortable stuff, though. I
> wondered if he'd driven over in the Porsche or the Vector. Now that's
> a sweet set of wheels.
> I met Ken through Gryph - he's one of Gryph's oldest friends
> from the fight circuit, and eight of Ben's sixty-seven fights on
> that circuit were with him, more than with any other fighter Ben's
> opposed. I would probably have known of him anyway, since he's one of
> the only fighters in that circuit to do any 'legitimate' fighting,
> which has made him more famous than most. He's even been in a couple
> of really bad movies, one of which is called - I kid you not -
> "Revenge of the Vengeful Ninja Warrior II: The Vengeance".
GAVOK: You... you're not Cynthia! You... you're one of the Vengeful Ninja Warriors on the Vengeance! II!
> (Actually,
> Ben's in that one too, for about six seconds; he's the random cop who
> takes out two of the evil ninjas with his nightstick and then catches
> a shuriken in the forehead.)
> "Hey, Zoner," said Ken, clapping me on the shoulder as he
> passed my chair. "How goes?"
> "Not too bad," I replied. "You?"
> "Oh, same old," Ken replied, plopping down on the couch.
ARL: There goes the quality of the Armani.
> Fury
> looked up from his station next to the sofa, checking out the new
> arrival; since it was someone he knew, he didn't get too excited.
> (Actually, I've never seen Fury get too excited about anything.)
> "Hey, Fury!" said Ken, scratching the hound's ears. "How's a
> pup?
MMK: Delicious!
> Huh?" He looked up at Gryph, who was taking a seat on the
> opposite couch, and grinned. "Katie and John keep pestering me to get
> them a dog. Maybe I should hit Brother Tommy up for a puppy."
> "A bloodhound? In the heart of downtown Boston? Probably not
> the best of ideas."
> "Well, we're down there on the harbor, and I go for my run
> every day. He'd get enough exercise. Wouldn't you, boy?"
> "Hey! Get your own," said Gryph, tossing a paperclip
> playfully at Ken.
MMK <Ken>: Fuck that! C'mon, paperclip! Fetch! I'll call you Spot! You're a good little paperclip, aren't you? Aren't you?
> Ken grinned and leaned back. "Yeah, well... maybe I will.
> Hey, you guys eat yet?"
> "Nope," Ben replied. "I was planning to make pizza later.
> Why, has Eliza stopped feeding you?"
> Ken chuckled. "C'mon, man, have you ever known a time when I
> wasn't hungry?
RACE <Zoner>: There was that one time...
GAVOK <Honda>: Hey, anyone know where my pants are at?
TBS <Ken>: I've suddenly lost my appetite.
> No, Liza and the kids went out to the Cape for the
> weekend. She sends her love, but she said the kids are still too
> young to be going to fights with their father."
MMK: Kim, Genan and Terry will have more balls then you will ever know.
> "Should've known you didn't just come to see us," I
> remarked.
> "Well, you know how it is, guys," said Ken with a smug smile.
> "I can't get her to let me out of her sight all that often."
> "Crack that whip," I replied, wiping away the smugness, if
> not the smile.
ARL <Ken>: Actually, I'm fighting Ralf tomorrow. But you were close.
> "Yeah, well, maybe it's what I needed," he said. "You get to
> a point where you've got to have something to come home to, or it just
> doesn't seem worth it any more. At least, I did."
> Coincidentally, I'd been having similar thoughts, and from the
> look of his face, Ben had, too. Curiouser and curiouser.
> The doorbell rang again.
MMK: And in enters Ryan Styles, pretending to be a lion tamer.
> "It's for you," Gryph and I said in unison. Ken blinked, then
> got up, grumbling good-naturedly as he went to answer the door. I
> heard the sound of the lock being worked, then Ken greeting a familiar
> voice.
> "Well, hey, looks who's here!" announced Ken as he returned to
> the living room. "It's a surprise visit from everybody's favorite
> jarhead!"
GAVOK: Chang Koehan!
> A beefy arm seized Ken from behind, hauling him down and back,
> and the grinning face that appeared over his shoulder said, "You young
> layabouts are all the same, making fun of the Corps. I think a little
> military service would have done you a world of good!"
> "I'd throw you over, Charlie,
GAVOK: Aw.
MMK: There there.
> but I imagine it'd piss Zoner
> off if you went flying through his picture window,"
MMK: That was a big turning point in Ken's career when he became heel and broke up the Rockers.
> replied Ken from
> within the headlock.
> "It would be amusing, seeing as it's bulletproof acrylic.
> Take a closer look." Ken smirked a bit; Charlie just kind of blinked.
> "Might be worth it just for the image," said Gryph with a
> grin. "Now quit manhandling the other guests and sit down. Boy... at
> this rate I'm going to have to go out for more supplies before I
> attempt making supper... "
> "I'm in time for chow call? An unexpected bonus!" said our
> newest arrival, Gunnery Sergeant Charlie Nash, USMC. Gryph and I
> hauled his butt out of a Shadolu prison camp in Thailand a couple
> years back,
[A distant sound of breaking glass.]
ARL: [jumps] What was that?
MMK: Just Gryphon throwing a brick through the window that is Street Fighter continuity.
> and we've been friends ever since. I don't know how he
> gets away with that hairdo in the Corps, but I guess he's got enough
> seniority to get away with it, or just enough brownie points banked up
> for all the special operations he's been in on.
> "You're looking well, Marine," said Ken as he and Charlie took
> seats on opposite couches.
> "Yeah, I feel good, too," replied Charlie. "In fact, I feel
> better than ever. Guile's been on my ass to train up for the fight
> circuit so I can join him. He's got this grand idea that the two of
> us together can do this Lone-Ranger-and-Tonto thing and bring down
> Shadolu all by ourselves."
GAVOK (takes out a pad): Guile and Charlie as the Lone Ranger and Tonto.
RACE: What are you doing?
GAVOK: Ideas for RECBT.
> He grinned. "Personally, I'm hoping it's
> just a phase he's going through." The grin faded as memories
> intruded, and he went on more seriously, "I'd feel a lot better
> dealing with Shadolu with about a company of my fellow Marines
> watching my back. That leader of theirs is a serious freak job. I
> don't think he's human."
> Ken grinned. "Hardly the attitude I'd expect from a big,
> tough Marine like you."
> "Hey, man, don't get me wrong: I eat nails for breakfast,
TBS <Apollo Creed>: N-n-n-nails!
> but
> I'm not stupid. You're going up against a guy who can fly and read
> minds, you better bring some seriously heavy weaponry to the table."
> Gryphon nodded, the mention of Bison turning him grave and
> contemplative, if only for a moment. Then he reached to the end table
> and grabbed a notebook, clicking a pen into readiness.
> "OK, so, since I have to do a little unexpected shopping, are
> there any special topping requests? Nails for Charlie, any others?"
> Charlie laughed. "Hold the nails, I'm off duty."
> "No fish," said Ken. "Other than that, it doesn't really
> matter to me."
> "OK, that's one no nails, one no fish... " said Ben,
> exaggeratedly jotting on the notebook.
> The doorbell rang. Gryph looked up, blinking. "ANOTHER
> unexpected visitor?"
GAVOK: It's either Rufus T. Firefly or Captain Geoffrey Spaulding, I'm not sure.
> "Busy night," Charlie observed. "Do your neighbors know you
> fight?"
> "Most of the City of Worcester knows he fights," I said with a
> grin. "He's quite the local celebrity."
> "Yeah, me and Jerry Harrison," he replied wryly, naming the
> weatherman at Worcester's only TV station, WORC Channel 66. "Charlie,
> it's for you."
GAVOK <Charlie>: General Thundertrunks, what are you doing here?
> "Sir yes SIR!" Charlie replied, jumping up from the couch and
> doing his best Marine Hustle to the foyer. "Hel-LO!" came his deep
> voice after the sound of the door being opened. "Ben said it was for
> me, but I don't think I'm destined to be that lucky today."
> "Well," said Rose airily as she breezed past him into the
> living room, "if I ever find myself in the market again, I'll be sure
> to keep you in mind."
> "Rose!" chorused Gryphon and Ken, punctuated by a deep "Woof!"
S.D.: What's W4 doing there?
> from Fury that may well have meant the same thing in Dog.
> "Boys," Rose replied, taking a seat on the red couch next to
> Ben. "You're having a busy evening," she remarked to him.
> "Yeah, it's a non-stop festival of surprises tonight." He
> held up his notebook. "What do you want on -your- pizza?"
> "Oh, I'm in time for dinner, how fortunate," said Rose with a
> smile that said luck had little to do with it.
> "Well, y'know, now that we've got more than four people, it's
> officially a prefight party," he replied.
> The doorbell rang.
> "Egad!" said Gryphon.
> "It's for me," Rose observed, and she went to get the door as
> Ken and Charlie launched into a reminiscence of the first time Ken met
> Guile (barroom brawl, San Francisco, 1987, if you're curious).
RACE: Ah, so if we're going with Street Fighter 2 V as canon, does that mean Ken is a blatant homosexual in this?
> Gryph
> and I had heard it before, but we still got quite a laugh out of it.
[I swore I wasn't going to riff this thing, but then I read this chapter and couldn't resist. This chapter contains, incidentally, the second-worst hacking scene I've ever read. Dammit, Hutchins, go back to being boring and predictable.]
> G
MMK: Word, dawg.
> The next morning, after lingering in bed as long as I could
> possibly justify it to myself, I got up, showered, took the dog for a
> walk, and then went to deal with the day's arduous job.
ARL: Working as a bingo caller.
> This is the kind of task that no high-school or college-level
> English class can really prepare a person for:
RACE: Waxing Zoner's disgustingly hairy back.
> calling a retired
> government scientist up out of the blue, as a total stranger, and
> recruiting him for a project that wanders around the jagged edge of
> legality. Fortunately, I didn't have to approach it cold; I may not
> have as many connections as Zoner, but I have good ones.
TBS <interviewer>: Just how did you know about the stocks going down, Mr. Hutchins?
MMK <Gryphon>: Excuse me, I'm making a salad.
> "Who are you calling first?" Zoner asked as I plonked down on
> the couch and picked up the phone. "Dr. Sharp?"
> "No," I replied. "Benton Quest."
GAVOK: Unfortunately he's too busy in a custody battle along with Harvey Birdman, Attorney at Law!
> Zoner looked perplexed. "Who?"
> "Benton Quest," I repeated. "You know. Founder of the Quest
> Foundation. President of Quest Industries. Seeker of ancient wisdom.
> That Benton Quest."
> "You know Benton Quest?
GAVOK <drunken Zoner>: I KNOW Benton Quest!
MMK <drunken Gryphon>: Then let me buy you a round!
> You never mentioned it before."
> "Yeah, I went to high school with his son." Gryphon chuckled.
S.D.: He's really letting this go to his head. Now he's talking in third person.
> "Not that Jonny showed up for school much. He was usually busy
> scrounging around the world seeking the unknown."
RACE <Gryphon>: Because you know, hot chicks covered in body paint are neat.
> "You have some pretty out-there connections," Zoner observed.
> "Et tu, Mr. I-Have-Jim-Greer-On-Speed-Dial?" I replied. "I
> hope they're home... they aren't, all that often."
> "What are you calling Benton Quest for?"
TBS <Gryphon>: I need a ride to the supermarket and your car smells.
> "Shh! It's ringing."
> Fortunately, they were home; after three rings, there was a
> click, and a familiar voice answered,
> "Quest Compound."
> "Hey, Race!"
RACE: Hiya.
> I replied. "How's business?"
> "Who is this?" Race Bannon's voice replied, sounding puzzled.
TBS <Race>: And what's that heavy breathing? You want to know what I'm wearing?
> "You don't recognize my voice?" I said, trying to put as much
> disappointment in my tone as I could.
> "No," replied Race. "Should I?"
GAVOK <Gryphon>: Palm Beach, 1989. You said you were going out for ice in the morning, but then you never came back to me....
> "Well, I'll give you a hint," I said. "I'm the smartass who
> gave you the 'World's Greatest Mom' mug for Christmas one year."
MMK <Race>: Oh, that could be anybody.
S.D.: -- wait, Gryphon works for Cartoon Network, too?
> For a moment, I thought he might have forgotten; as the
> silence stretched into two moments I began to suspect he remembered,
> but no longer found it as amusing as he had then.
RACE <Gryphon>: As the two moments became a jiffy, I realized that I really needed to run to the bathroom.
> Then I realized
> he'd muted the phone so I wouldn't be deafened by his guffawing into
> the receiver.
ARL <Race>: HAW. HAW. HAW.
> He came back on, his voice a little shaky with residual
> chuckles, to exchange some pleasantries.
> "Hey, is Dr. Quest handy?" I asked afterward. "I've got a few
> questions for him."
GAVOK <Randal Graves>: Why do they call him Silent Bob anyways?
> "Sure, hold on... let me put you on speaker," said Race.
MMK: Absolute proof that deep down, Race really hates Gryphon too.
> "Wish I had one of those cool video phones you guys make," I
> said.
TBS: Well, hey, if you started a *POKEMON* SI series, then--
[I suspect someone will silence Snot here. Feel free to play around with it.]
> "You'd need ISDN," Race replied.
> "Oh, well, hell, forget that," I scoffed. "By the time NYNEX
> gets around to installing it, humanity will have developed long-range
> telepathy."
> Race chuckled again, and then the sound became wide,
> cavernous, and echoey.
GAVOK <Race>: HAW. HAW. HAW. I'M HUGE!
> "Hello? Hello? Is this thing on?"
> "Go ahead, Ben," came the voice of Benton Quest.
> "Well, I don't know any slick way of jumping into this, so
> I'll just go directly, I guess.
RACE <Gryphon>: Are you busy this Saturday night?
> Do you know a couple of scientists,
> names of Amadeus Sharp and Rudy Wells?"
> "I've met Dr. Sharp a few times, yes, at conferences," replied
> Quest. "I know him to say hello to. Dr. Wells I only know by
> reputation. Why?"
S.D. <Gryphon>: Do you know if he likes me?
> "Well, I've got a proposition for you, and I needed to make
> sure you didn't have any sort of weird scientist rivalry with them,
> 'cause they're involved."
ARL <Quest>: Well there was that one time I created 8 killer robots to do yard work and he stole
them and reprogrammed them for evil. But that's water under the bridge!
> "I see." He had that intrigued tone I knew him to get from
> time to time. It was a good sign.
> "Well, it's like this. Ever heard of the Bionic Six?"
GAVOK <Quest>: Wasn't Dr. Octopus a member?
MMK <Gryphon>: No, that's the Sinister Six.
GAVOK <Quest>: What about Lee the scared cowboy?
MMK <Gryphon>: No, that's the Magnificent Seven.
GAVOK <Quest>: Okay okay. The Bionic Six are the guys who fight the Coyotes using car combat.
MMK <Gryphon>: No, that's the Vigilante 8.
GAVOK <Quest>: Oh. Then what is the Bionic Six?
MMK <Gryphon>: It's that movie where Rocky beats up the Russian. Duh!
>
> MZ
> While Ben was busy calling around, I prowled around online.
S.D. <Zoner>: This ninja site rules!
TBS: And by "rules" I mean "is totally sweet".
> Greer's info confirmed what I had suspected.
GAVOK: Bruce Wayne really is Batman.
> Most of the Bionic Six's
> equipment was stored in Sky Dancer,
ARL: -- wait, the girly version of those goddamn "Dragon Flyz" things?
> which in turn was stored at Area
> 51 in Nevada. That figured, I expected it, but wasn't exactly pleased
> about it. It was going to take some work getting in and out of there.
> The remainder of the equipment was scattered about.
MMK <Zoner>: The living room, the den, the kitchen, even the *bathroom*!
> The OSI
> offices and the SPL had been gutted,
GAVOK <Zoner>: ASAP on the QED, PT. Crap, BRB.
> nothing left there. Dr. Sharp
> had managed to keep most of his critical instruments;
S.D. <Dr. Sharp>: Gentlemen, I'm afraid that your story really sucks.
> I hoped Ben was
> able to convince him to sign on. It looked like most of the major
> bionizing equipment was stored at an Army research lab - I'm wasn't
> sure I wanted to know what they were doing with it.
RACE: Don't worry, they're just gonna use it to make Superpatriot.
Maybe I'll ask
> Greer someday, maybe not. It didn't matter much anyway - I didn't
> anticipate needing to bionize anyone else.
TBS: Bionize an egg! That would rock!
> A few other items had gone to various DARPA contractors as
> technology demonstrators, but since there was only Meg we didn't need
> to equip a team. With Sky Dancer, the Mule,
ARL: I'd better not hear one fucking WORD about "Donkey Bread".
> and a couple of quad
> runners all stored together, I figured that's all we would need.
> Of course, we still had to get it. That was easier said than
> done.
TBS <Zoner>: We'd need equipment to make the break into Area 51, and that would require another lengthy online search...
S.D.: Where's he getting all this info from, anyway? "secretinfo.gov"?
RACE: Nah, prolly Google.
ARL: Or Usenet.
> We could try a straight sneak, but the chance of that
> succeeding was roughly the same as those of a good Highlander sequel
> coming out.
TBS: And little did Zoner know of the "Rogue Version" of Highlander 2....
> I wasn't ready to die or visit scenic Leavenworth just
> yet, so I tossed that idea. Trying to spoof our way in might work,
> but it wasn't really solid.
S.D. <Zoner>: Our humor could possibly get buried by awkward attempts at drama.
> I wasn't sure just how far we could get
> on faked credentials. What we really needed were credentials that at
> least worked as if they were real. They didn't have to exactly -be-
> real.
RACE: So... fake credentials.
> So that was what I would try for.
> I figured the best thing to do was get a number of agencies
> set up so that they were requesting the inventory from each other, a
> Gordian knot of red tape.
GAVOK <Tomax>: Your fault!
MMK <Xamot>: His fault!
GAVOK <Tomax>: Your fault!
MMK <Xamot>: His fault!
> Hopefully anyone who pokes their nose into
> it would tire off following the links, and anyone who didn't would end
> up back where they started, and would probably assume they had screwed
> up and try again.
ARL: Wow, this is genius on the level of "Hackers".
> And, with any luck, Greer's help would keep them
> from finding out the truth.
MMK: ... but isn't it his stuff that you want to take, anyway?
> If we could just make it out of there with the goods, we
> should be safe. Getting in and out was going to be nervy. But
> doable.
TBS: I guess this is a summary for people who fell asleep during portions of the last paragraph.
> I had to get started on the paper trail.
GAVOK <singing>: Caught up 'tween the conflict of his brain and his tail.
> I'm not sure how long I worked at it; when I get into the
> groove on a project like that, time ceases to have any meaning. For
> that matter, so do most other things.
MMK: In other words, there's no change to the ending of the new Planet of the Apes.
> All that matters is the endless
> duel
GAVOK: MEEP MEEP!
(MMK holds up a sign saying "Genius")
>- computers, their legitimate operators, and me. Inserting
> records into government computers is a lot easier than pulling data
> out, though; they don't put as many safeguards on them.
S.D.: Oh, I see-- HUH?
> Who would
> want to put information -into- a computer they've breached
> illegitimately?
RACE: Um... a hacker?
> It was just dumb luck that I noticed Ben was wrapping up his
> phone conversation; glancing at my watch, I realized it had been
> nearly two hours since we both began.
ARL: At least, that's how long it feels like.
> He hung up the phone and looked up to see me watching. This
> went on for a couple of seconds, until finally I said, "Well?"
MMK <Gryphon>: ... look, we can't see each other anymore. I'm sorry.
> "Well what?"
> "Well aren't you going to call the others?"
> "Nah," Ben replied. "Dr. Q's going to take care of that for me.
GAVOK <Q>: .........................(This won't hurt a bit)
> In fact, he's going to take care of almost everything - all we have to
> do is get the stuff and take it up to Maine."
> "Maine? Why Maine?"
GAVOK <Gryphon>: Well, when the last time you ever noticed something happening in Maine?
> "Because," he said, "the Quest Foundation has agreed to
> provide space and funding for the Tactical Applications Center for the
> Advanced Cybernetic Sciences."
> "TACACS?!"
S.D.: Those great little mints that come in the plastic case?
> "We could always call it Bureau Eight of Zone Services."
> "No, TACACS will do."
> "What about your end?"
RACE <Zoner>: That's kinda personal, man.
> "It'll take me a few days to call in all the markers I'm going
> to have to call, but I've got the basic battle plan laid out."
MMK <Gryphon>: You take the big guy with the beard...
TBS <Zoner>: Okay.
MMK <Gryphon>: And I'll take on the goldfish he's holding in that bowl.
TBS <Zoner>: Okay. Hey!
> "Well, that works out, then. Dr. Quest will need a few days
> to settle everything on his end too - and I have a fight tomorrow,
> don't forget."
> "Oh yeah... I -had- forgotten. Darn... and here I was hoping
> to finish all this up this weekend."
ARL: Yeah, it's so hard to engage in anti-government espionage on Sundays. Everything's closed, there's all kinds of traffic out....
> "A good violation of Federal law should never be rushed," said
> Gryphon philosophically. Before I could come up with a good comeback
> for that, the doorbell rang.
MMK: Thank God.
> "I'll get it," Gryph continued, tramping
> around the corner by the kitchen to answer it. I heard the sounds of a
> cheerful reception, which meant it probably wasn't a solicitor, and a
> moment later, he returned to the living room, laughing, with a friend
> of ours.
GAVOK: Here's hoping for Don Knotts as the wacky landlord.
> At a glance, Ken Masters
GAVOK: Aw...
> looks like a surfer dude, except that
> he lives in the wrong part of the country;
MMK: IN A VAN DOWN BY THE RIVER!
> he's around five-ten and
> buffed,
TBS: With a floor waxer.
> with long reddish-gold hair and a face that usually had a
> rakish grin. There's only good surfing off the Massachusetts coast
> when a stray hurricane whacks into the South Cape (although Ken has
> balls enough to go surfing when that happens),
ARL: Zangief jogs naked in Siberian winters, Ken goes surfing in hurricane-force waves...obviously,
Hutchins thinks being a Street Fighter requires the survival instincts of a lemming. The Psygnosis kind.
RACE: Dude, chill. Your ears are starting to bleed.
> but people who call
> his good looks Californian are right anyway - he's originally from
> someplace in the San Francisco Bay Area, and his parents are
> absolutely loaded. They make me look like a welfare case.
S.D. <Zoner>: They own TWO top-secret organizations! Can you believe that?!
> The fact that Ken is used to having money is obvious by the
> way he dresses -- here he was having an informal visit with some pals,
> and sporting a $1200 Armani "casual" suit. Some guys just gotta
> flaunt it, I guess. Armani -is- comfortable stuff, though.
RACE <Zoner>: Don't think for a minute Ken has more stuff than I do!
> I
> wondered if he'd driven over in the Porsche or the Vector. Now that's
> a sweet set of wheels.
ARL: ... which, the Porsche or the Vector?
> I met Ken through Gryph - he's one of Gryph's oldest friends
> from the fight circuit, and eight of Ben's sixty-seven fights on
> that circuit were with him, more than with any other fighter Ben's
> opposed.
MMK: Hmm. Kuwabara Masters, looks like.
> I would probably have known of him anyway, since he's one of
> the only fighters in that circuit to do any 'legitimate' fighting,
> which has made him more famous than most. He's even been in a couple
> of really bad movies, one of which is called - I kid you not -
> "Revenge of the Vengeful Ninja Warrior II: The Vengeance".
GAVOK: You... you're not Cynthia! You... you're one of the Vengeful Ninja Warriors on the Vengeance!
II!
> (Actually,
> Ben's in that one too, for about six seconds; he's the random cop who
> takes out two of the evil ninjas with his nightstick and then catches
> a shuriken in the forehead.)
TBS: Geez, why can't we be reading a story about that?
> "Hey, Zoner," said Ken, clapping me on the shoulder as he
> passed my chair. "How goes?"
> "Not too bad," I replied. "You?"
> "Oh, same old," Ken replied, plopping down on the couch.
ARL: There goes the quality of the Armani.
> Fury
> looked up from his station next to the sofa, checking out the new
> arrival; since it was someone he knew, he didn't get too excited.
> (Actually, I've never seen Fury get too excited about anything.)
GAVOK <Zoner>: So I'm not sure what the point of telling you all this was.
> "Hey, Fury!" said Ken, scratching the hound's ears. "How's a
> pup?
MMK: Delicious!
> Huh?" He looked up at Gryph, who was taking a seat on the
> opposite couch, and grinned. "Katie and John keep pestering me to get
> them a dog. Maybe I should hit Brother Tommy up for a puppy."
S.D.: That makes it sound like he's gonna send a troupe of mafiosos over to beat it out of him.
> "A bloodhound? In the heart of downtown Boston? Probably not
> the best of ideas."
> "Well, we're down there on the harbor, and I go for my run
> every day. He'd get enough exercise.
RACE <Ken>: Fuck my neighbors! ^_^
> Wouldn't you, boy?"
> "Hey! Get your own," said Gryph, tossing a paperclip
> playfully at Ken.
MMK <Ken>: Fuck that! C'mon, paperclip! Fetch! I'll call you Spot! You're a good little paperclip, aren't
you? Aren't you?
> Ken grinned and leaned back. "Yeah, well... maybe I will.
> Hey, you guys eat yet?"
> "Nope," Ben replied. "I was planning to make pizza later.
> Why, has Eliza stopped feeding you?"
> Ken chuckled. "C'mon, man, have you ever known a time when I
> wasn't hungry?
RACE <Zoner>: There was that one time...
GAVOK <Honda>: Hey, anyone know where my pants are at?
TBS <Ken>: I've suddenly lost my appetite.
> No, Liza and the kids went out to the Cape for the
> weekend. She sends her love, but she said the kids are still too
> young to be going to fights with their father."
MMK: Kim, Genan and Terry will have more balls then you will ever know.
> "Should've known you didn't just come to see us," I
> remarked.
> "Well, you know how it is, guys," said Ken with a smug smile.
> "I can't get her to let me out of her sight all that often."
> "Crack that whip," I replied, wiping away the smugness, if
> not the smile.
ARL <Ken>: Actually, I'm fighting Ralf tomorrow. But you were close.
> "Yeah, well, maybe it's what I needed," he said. "You get to
> a point where you've got to have something to come home to, or it just
> doesn't seem worth it any more. At least, I did."
> Coincidentally, I'd been having similar thoughts, and from the
> look of his face, Ben had, too. Curiouser and curiouser.
> The doorbell rang again.
MMK: And in enters Ryan Styles, pretending to be a lion tamer.
> "It's for you," Gryph and I said in unison.
ARL: Wait, how do they-- argh, nevermind.
> Ken blinked, then
> got up, grumbling good-naturedly as he went to answer the door. I
> heard the sound of the lock being worked, then Ken greeting a familiar
> voice.
> "Well, hey, looks who's here!" announced Ken as he returned to
> the living room. "It's a surprise visit from everybody's favorite
> jarhead!"
GAVOK: Chang Koehan!
> A beefy arm seized Ken from behind, hauling him down and back,
> and the grinning face that appeared over his shoulder said, "You young
> layabouts are all the same, making fun of the Corps. I think a little
> military service would have done you a world of good!"
> "I'd throw you over, Charlie,
GAVOK: Aw.
MMK: There there.
> but I imagine it'd piss Zoner
> off if you went flying through his picture window,"
MMK: That was a big turning point in Ken's career when he became heel and broke up the Rockers.
> replied Ken from
> within the headlock.
> "It would be amusing, seeing as it's bulletproof acrylic.
> Take a closer look." Ken smirked a bit; Charlie just kind of blinked.
TBS: Guess Charlie hasn't adjusted to being in the presence of an Eyrie field yet.
> "Might be worth it just for the image," said Gryph with a
> grin. "Now quit manhandling the other guests and sit down.
GAVOK <Gryphon>: Manhandling Ken can wait until *after* dinner.
> Boy... at
> this rate I'm going to have to go out for more supplies before I
> attempt making supper... "
> "I'm in time for chow call? An unexpected bonus!" said our
> newest arrival, Gunnery Sergeant Charlie Nash, USMC. Gryph and I
> hauled his butt out of a Shadolu prison camp in Thailand a couple
> years back,
[A distant sound of breaking glass.]
ARL: [jumps] What was that?
MMK: Just Gryphon throwing a brick through the window that is Street Fighter continuity.
> and we've been friends ever since. I don't know how he
> gets away with that hairdo in the Corps,
S.D.: Same way Guile does, I guess.
> but I guess he's got enough
> seniority to get away with it, or just enough brownie points banked up
> for all the special operations he's been in on.
> "You're looking well, Marine," said Ken as he and Charlie took
> seats on opposite couches.
> "Yeah, I feel good, too," replied Charlie. "In fact, I feel
> better than ever.
> Guile's been on my ass
ALL [*cough uncomfortably*]
> to train up for the fight
> circuit so I can join him. He's got this grand idea that the two of
> us together can do this Lone-Ranger-and-Tonto thing and bring down
> Shadolu all by ourselves."
GAVOK (takes out a pad): Guile and Charlie as the Lone Ranger and Tonto.
RACE: What are you doing?
GAVOK: Ideas for RECBT.
> He grinned. "Personally, I'm hoping it's
> just a phase he's going through." The grin faded as memories
> intruded, and he went on more seriously, "I'd feel a lot better
> dealing with Shadolu with about a company of my fellow Marines
> watching my back. That leader of theirs is a serious freak job. I
> don't think he's human."
S.D.: He's not, he's Raul Julia!
> Ken grinned. "Hardly the attitude I'd expect from a big,
> tough Marine like you."
> "Hey, man, don't get me wrong: I eat nails for breakfast,
TBS <Apollo Creed>: N-n-n-nails!
> but
> I'm not stupid. You're going up against a guy who can fly and read
> minds, you better bring some seriously heavy weaponry to the table."
> Gryphon nodded, the mention of Bison turning him grave and
> contemplative, if only for a moment. Then he reached to the end table
> and grabbed a notebook, clicking a pen into readiness.
> "OK, so, since I have to do a little unexpected shopping, are
> there any special topping requests? Nails for Charlie, any others?"
> Charlie laughed. "Hold the nails, I'm off duty."
> "No fish," said Ken. "Other than that, it doesn't really
> matter to me."
> "OK, that's one no nails, one no fish... " said Ben,
> exaggeratedly jotting on the notebook.
> The doorbell rang. Gryph looked up, blinking. "ANOTHER
> unexpected visitor?"
GAVOK: It's either Rufus T. Firefly or Captain Geoffrey Spaulding, I'm not sure.
> "Busy night," Charlie observed. "Do your neighbors know you
> fight?"
> "Most of the City of Worcester knows he fights," I said with a
> grin. "He's quite the local celebrity."
> "Yeah, me and Jerry Harrison," he replied wryly, naming the
> weatherman at Worcester's only TV station, WORC Channel 66.
RACE: Y'know, if you have to explain all your wry local humor in excruciating detail, it's probably not worth including the joke in the first place.
> "Charlie,
> it's for you."
GAVOK <Charlie>: General Thundertrunks, what are you doing here?
> "Sir yes SIR!" Charlie replied, jumping up from the couch and
> doing his best Marine Hustle to the foyer. "Hel-LO!" came his deep
> voice after the sound of the door being opened.
ARL: Sargeant Slaughter in a role that will surprise you.
> "Ben said it was for
> me, but I don't think I'm destined to be that lucky today."
> "Well," said Rose airily as she breezed past him into the
> living room,
MMK: Wow, she's a Jupiter Djinn.
> "if I ever find myself in the market again, I'll be sure
> to keep you in mind."
> "Rose!" chorused Gryphon and Ken, punctuated by a deep "Woof!"
S.D.: What's W4 doing there?
> from Fury that may well have meant the same thing in Dog.
> "Boys," Rose replied, taking a seat on the red couch next to
> Ben. "You're having a busy evening," she remarked to him.
> "Yeah, it's a non-stop festival of surprises tonight." He
> held up his notebook. "What do you want on -your- pizza?"
TBS <Rose>: "Rest in Peace."
GAVOK: ... that joke doesn't really work backwards.
> "Oh, I'm in time for dinner, how fortunate," said Rose with a
> smile that said luck had little to do with it.
S.D.: Is pizza really this hard to get in Worcester?
> "Well, y'know, now that we've got more than four people, it's
> officially a prefight party," he replied.
RACE: Or an orgy. Whichever.
> The doorbell rang.
> "Egad!" said Gryphon.
ARL: It's Mr. Mustard in the Library with the candlestick!
> "It's for me," Rose observed, and she went to get the door as
> Ken and Charlie launched into a reminiscence of the first time Ken met
> Guile (barroom brawl, San Francisco, 1987, if you're curious).
RACE: Ah, so if we're going with Street Fighter 2 V as canon, does that mean Ken is a blatant
homosexual in this?
> Gryph
> and I had heard it before, but we still got quite a laugh out of it.
If they took off their shoes, it would be an orgy in Texas...
by
> G
MMK: Word, dawg.
> The next morning, after lingering in bed as long as I could
> possibly justify it to myself, I got up, showered, took the dog for a
> walk, and then went to deal with the day's arduous job.
ARL: Working as a bingo caller.
> This is the kind of task that no high-school or college-level
> English class can really prepare a person for:
RACE: Waxing Zoner's disgustingly hairy back.
> calling a retired
> government scientist up out of the blue, as a total stranger, and
> recruiting him for a project that wanders around the jagged edge of
> legality. Fortunately, I didn't have to approach it cold; I may not
> have as many connections as Zoner, but I have good ones.
TBS <interviewer>: Just how did you know about the stocks going down, Mr. Hutchins?
MMK <Gryphon>: Excuse me, I'm making a salad.
> "Who are you calling first?" Zoner asked as I plonked down on
> the couch and picked up the phone. "Dr. Sharp?"
> "No," I replied. "Benton Quest."
GAVOK: Unfortunately he's too busy in a custody battle along with Harvey Birdman, Attorney at Law!
> Zoner looked perplexed. "Who?"
> "Benton Quest," I repeated. "You know. Founder of the Quest
> Foundation. President of Quest Industries. Seeker of ancient wisdom.
> That Benton Quest."
> "You know Benton Quest?
GAVOK <drunken Zoner>: I KNOW Benton Quest!
MMK <drunken Gryphon>: Then let me buy you a round!
> You never mentioned it before."
> "Yeah, I went to high school with his son." Gryphon chuckled.
S.D.: He's really letting this go to his head. Now he's talking in third person.
ARL: So let me get this straight: Johnny Quest went to school in
*Worcester*.
MMK: Everybody who's *anybody* goes to school in Worcester!
> "Not that Jonny showed up for school much. He was usually busy
> scrounging around the world seeking the unknown."
RACE <Gryphon>: Because you know, hot chicks covered in body paint are neat.
> "You have some pretty out-there connections," Zoner observed.
> "Et tu, Mr. I-Have-Jim-Greer-On-Speed-Dial?" I replied. "I
> hope they're home... they aren't, all that often."
> "What are you calling Benton Quest for?"
TBS <Gryphon>: I need a ride to the supermarket and your car smells.
> "Shh! It's ringing."
> Fortunately, they were home; after three rings, there was a
> click, and a familiar voice answered,
> "Quest Compound."
> "Hey, Race!"
RACE: Hiya.
> I replied. "How's business?"
> "Who is this?" Race Bannon's voice replied, sounding puzzled.
TBS <Race>: And what's that heavy breathing? You want to know what I'm wearing?
> "You don't recognize my voice?" I said, trying to put as much
> disappointment in my tone as I could.
> "No," replied Race. "Should I?"
GAVOK <Gryphon>: Palm Beach, 1989. You said you were going out for ice in the morning, but then you never came back to me....
> "Well, I'll give you a hint," I said. "I'm the smartass who
> gave you the 'World's Greatest Mom' mug for Christmas one year."
MMK <Race>: Oh, that could be anybody.
S.D.: -- wait, Gryphon works for Cartoon Network, too?
> For a moment, I thought he might have forgotten; as the
> silence stretched into two moments I began to suspect he remembered,
> but no longer found it as amusing as he had then.
RACE <Gryphon>: As the two moments became a jiffy, I realized that I really needed to run to the bathroom.
> Then I realized
> he'd muted the phone so I wouldn't be deafened by his guffawing into
> the receiver.
ARL <Race>: HAW. HAW. HAW.
> He came back on, his voice a little shaky with residual
> chuckles, to exchange some pleasantries.
> "Hey, is Dr. Quest handy?" I asked afterward. "I've got a few
> questions for him."
GAVOK <Randal Graves>: Why do they call him Silent Bob anyways?
> "Sure, hold on... let me put you on speaker," said Race.
MMK: Absolute proof that deep down, Race really hates Gryphon too.
> "Wish I had one of those cool video phones you guys make," I
> said.
TBS: Well, hey, if you started a *POKEMON* SI series, then--
[I suspect someone will silence Snot here. Feel free to play around with it.]
> "You'd need ISDN," Race replied.
> "Oh, well, hell, forget that," I scoffed. "By the time NYNEX
> gets around to installing it, humanity will have developed long-range
> telepathy."
> Race chuckled again, and then the sound became wide,
> cavernous, and echoey.
GAVOK <Race>: HAW. HAW. HAW. I'M HUGE!
> "Hello? Hello? Is this thing on?"
> "Go ahead, Ben," came the voice of Benton Quest.
> "Well, I don't know any slick way of jumping into this, so
> I'll just go directly, I guess.
RACE <Gryphon>: Are you busy this Saturday night?
MMK <Gryphon>: Do you like pancakes?
> Do you know a couple of scientists,
> names of Amadeus Sharp and Rudy Wells?"
> "I've met Dr. Sharp a few times, yes, at conferences," replied
> Quest. "I know him to say hello to. Dr. Wells I only know by
> reputation. Why?"
S.D. <Gryphon>: Do you know if he likes me?
> "Well, I've got a proposition for you, and I needed to make
> sure you didn't have any sort of weird scientist rivalry with them,
> 'cause they're involved."
ARL <Quest>: Well there was that one time I created 8 killer robots to do yard work and he stole
them and reprogrammed them for evil. But that's water under the bridge!
> "I see." He had that intrigued tone I knew him to get from
> time to time. It was a good sign.
> "Well, it's like this. Ever heard of the Bionic Six?"
GAVOK <Quest>: Wasn't Dr. Octopus a member?
MMK <Gryphon>: No, that's the Sinister Six.
GAVOK <Quest>: What about Lee the scared cowboy?
MMK <Gryphon>: No, that's the Magnificent Seven.
GAVOK <Quest>: Okay okay. The Bionic Six are the guys who fight the Coyotes using car combat.
MMK <Gryphon>: No, that's the Vigilante 8.
GAVOK <Quest>: Oh. Then what is the Bionic Six?
MMK <Gryphon>: It's that movie where Rocky beats up the Russian. Duh!
>
> MZ
> While Ben was busy calling around, I prowled around online.
S.D. <Zoner>: This ninja site rules!
TBS: And by "rules" I mean "is totally sweet".
[OR]
[GAVOK, RACE, S.D. and MMK begin speaking simultaneously.]
GAVOK <MegaZone>: Hey, Half Horse Productions updated!
RACE <MegaZone>: Ooh, new 'fic at Racewing Productions. Sweet.
S.D. <MegaZone>: "Shadow Dragon Nexus?" Looks interesting...
MMK <MegaZone>: Holy crap, someone actually updated the Church of Kaphwan
page!
[They blink and look at each other.]
WAND <over intercom>: You realize that I'm going to have to hurt you for
those horribly shameless-
TBS <MegaZone>: Man, Elsewhere is the coolest web page *ever!*
[Pause.]
WAND <over intercom>: I'll let it slide *this* time...
> Greer's info confirmed what I had suspected.
GAVOK: Bruce Wayne really is Batman.
> Most of the Bionic Six's
> equipment was stored in Sky Dancer,
ARL: -- wait, the girly version of those goddamn "Dragon Flyz" things?
> which in turn was stored at Area
> 51 in Nevada. That figured, I expected it, but wasn't exactly pleased
> about it. It was going to take some work getting in and out of there.
> The remainder of the equipment was scattered about.
MMK <Zoner>: The living room, the den, the kitchen, even the *bathroom*!
> The OSI
> offices and the SPL had been gutted,
GAVOK <Zoner>: ASAP on the QED, PT. Crap, BRB.
> nothing left there. Dr. Sharp
> had managed to keep most of his critical instruments;
S.D. <Dr. Sharp>: Gentlemen, I'm afraid that your story really sucks.
> I hoped Ben was
> able to convince him to sign on. It looked like most of the major
> bionizing equipment was stored at an Army research lab - I'm wasn't
> sure I wanted to know what they were doing with it.
RACE: Don't worry, they're just gonna use it to make Superpatriot.
S.D.: Or they could be building an army of atomic supermen.
ALL: PULL THE STRING!!
Maybe I'll ask
> Greer someday, maybe not. It didn't matter much anyway - I didn't
> anticipate needing to bionize anyone else.
TBS: Bionize an egg! That would rock!
GAVOK: I dunno, Gryph... "Fury the Bionic Wonder Dog" has a nice ring to it...
> A few other items had gone to various DARPA contractors as
> technology demonstrators, but since there was only Meg we didn't need
> to equip a team. With Sky Dancer, the Mule,
ARL: I'd better not hear one fucking WORD about "Donkey Bread".
> and a couple of quad
> runners all stored together, I figured that's all we would need.
> Of course, we still had to get it. That was easier said than
> done.
TBS <Zoner>: We'd need equipment to make the break into Area 51, and that would require another lengthy online search...
S.D.: Where's he getting all this info from, anyway? "secretinfo.gov"?
RACE: Nah, prolly Google.
ARL: Or Usenet.
> We could try a straight sneak, but the chance of that
> succeeding was roughly the same as those of a good Highlander sequel
> coming out.
TBS: And little did Zoner know of the "Rogue Version" of Highlander 2....
> I wasn't ready to die or visit scenic Leavenworth just
> yet, so I tossed that idea. Trying to spoof our way in might work,
> but it wasn't really solid.
S.D. <Zoner>: Our humor could possibly get buried by awkward attempts at drama.
> I wasn't sure just how far we could get
> on faked credentials. What we really needed were credentials that at
> least worked as if they were real. They didn't have to exactly -be-
> real.
RACE: So... fake credentials.
> So that was what I would try for.
> I figured the best thing to do was get a number of agencies
> set up so that they were requesting the inventory from each other, a
> Gordian knot of red tape.
GAVOK <Tomax>: Your fault!
MMK <Xamot>: His fault!
GAVOK <Tomax>: Your fault!
MMK <Xamot>: His fault!
> Hopefully anyone who pokes their nose into
> it would tire off following the links, and anyone who didn't would end
> up back where they started, and would probably assume they had screwed
> up and try again.
ARL: Wow, this is genius on the level of "Hackers".
> And, with any luck, Greer's help would keep them
> from finding out the truth.
MMK: ... but isn't it his stuff that you want to take, anyway?
ARL: Zoner, you make that sound as if the U.S. government can figure out what
it's doing *normally.*
> If we could just make it out of there with the goods, we
> should be safe. Getting in and out was going to be nervy. But
> doable.
TBS: I guess this is a summary for people who fell asleep during portions of the last paragraph.
> I had to get started on the paper trail.
GAVOK <singing>: Caught up 'tween the conflict of his brain and his tail.
> I'm not sure how long I worked at it; when I get into the
> groove on a project like that, time ceases to have any meaning. For
> that matter, so do most other things.
MMK: In other words, there's no change to the ending of the new Planet of the Apes.
> All that matters is the endless
> duel
GAVOK: MEEP MEEP!
(MMK holds up a sign saying "Genius")
>- computers, their legitimate operators, and me. Inserting
> records into government computers is a lot easier than pulling data
> out, though; they don't put as many safeguards on them.
S.D.: Oh, I see-- HUH?
> Who would
> want to put information -into- a computer they've breached
> illegitimately?
RACE: Um... a hacker?
ARL: People who want to break into secure government facilities without leaving a trail of bodies or shell casings, big-time con artists, enemies of the state... wait, that's what they *become*...
> It was just dumb luck that I noticed Ben was wrapping up his
> phone conversation; glancing at my watch, I realized it had been
> nearly two hours since we both began.
ARL: At least, that's how long it feels like.
> He hung up the phone and looked up to see me watching. This
> went on for a couple of seconds, until finally I said, "Well?"
MMK <Gryphon>: ... look, we can't see each other anymore. I'm sorry.
> "Well what?"
> "Well aren't you going to call the others?"
> "Nah," Ben replied. "Dr. Q's going to take care of that for me.
GAVOK <Q>: .........................(This won't hurt a bit)
> In fact, he's going to take care of almost everything - all we have to
> do is get the stuff and take it up to Maine."
> "Maine? Why Maine?"
GAVOK <Gryphon>: Well, when the last time you ever noticed something happening in Maine?
S.D.: Because Maine is the geographical center of the Eyrieverse. Duh.
ARL: "Eyrieverse?"
[S.D. shrugs.]
> "Because," he said, "the Quest Foundation has agreed to
> provide space and funding for the Tactical Applications Center for the
> Advanced Cybernetic Sciences."
> "TACACS?!"
S.D.: Those great little mints that come in the plastic case?
[TACACS is a UNIX thing, right?]
> "We could always call it Bureau Eight of Zone Services."
> "No, TACACS will do."
> "What about your end?"
RACE <Zoner>: That's kinda personal, man.
> "It'll take me a few days to call in all the markers I'm going
> to have to call, but I've got the basic battle plan laid out."
MMK <Gryphon>: You take the big guy with the beard...
TBS <Zoner>: Okay.
MMK <Gryphon>: And I'll take on the goldfish he's holding in that bowl.
TBS <Zoner>: Okay. Hey!
> "Well, that works out, then. Dr. Quest will need a few days
> to settle everything on his end too - and I have a fight tomorrow,
> don't forget."
> "Oh yeah... I -had- forgotten. Darn... and here I was hoping
> to finish all this up this weekend."
ARL: Yeah, it's so hard to engage in anti-government espionage on Sundays. Everything's closed, there's all kinds of traffic out....
> "A good violation of Federal law should never be rushed," said
> Gryphon philosophically. Before I could come up with a good comeback
> for that, the doorbell rang.
MMK: Thank God.
> "I'll get it," Gryph continued, tramping
> around the corner by the kitchen to answer it. I heard the sounds of a
> cheerful reception, which meant it probably wasn't a solicitor, and a
> moment later, he returned to the living room, laughing, with a friend
> of ours.
GAVOK: Here's hoping for Don Knotts as the wacky landlord.
> At a glance, Ken Masters
GAVOK: Aw...
> looks like a surfer dude, except that
> he lives in the wrong part of the country;
MMK: IN A VAN DOWN BY THE RIVER!
> he's around five-ten and
> buffed,
TBS: With a floor waxer.
> with long reddish-gold hair
S.D.: -dyed, of course-
[TBS gasps.]
TBS: No!
S.D.: Yes!
TBS <sadly>: There are no more heroes...
[He begins sobbing, then stops abruptly.]
TBS: Oh well.
> and a face that usually had a
> rakish grin. There's only good surfing off the Massachusetts coast
> when a stray hurricane whacks into the South Cape (although Ken has
> balls enough to go surfing when that happens),
ARL: Zangief jogs naked in Siberian winters, Ken goes surfing in hurricane-force waves...obviously,
Hutchins thinks being a Street Fighter requires the survival instincts of a lemming. The Psygnosis kind.
RACE: Dude, chill. Your ears are starting to bleed.
> but people who call
> his good looks Californian are right anyway - he's originally from
> someplace in the San Francisco Bay Area, and his parents are
> absolutely loaded. They make me look like a welfare case.
S.D. <Zoner>: They own TWO top-secret organizations! Can you believe that?!
> The fact that Ken is used to having money is obvious by the
> way he dresses -- here he was having an informal visit with some pals,
> and sporting a $1200 Armani "casual" suit. Some guys just gotta
> flaunt it, I guess. Armani -is- comfortable stuff, though.
RACE <Zoner>: Don't think for a minute Ken has more stuff than I do!
> I
> wondered if he'd driven over in the Porsche or the Vector. Now that's
> a sweet set of wheels.
ARL: ... which, the Porsche or the Vector?
> I met Ken through Gryph - he's one of Gryph's oldest friends
> from the fight circuit, and eight of Ben's sixty-seven fights on
> that circuit were with him, more than with any other fighter Ben's
> opposed.
MMK: Hmm. Kuwabara Masters, looks like.
> I would probably have known of him anyway, since he's one of
> the only fighters in that circuit to do any 'legitimate' fighting,
> which has made him more famous than most.
ARL: As opposed to illegitimate fighting, where everyone pulls punches
and the outcomes are predetermined.
RACE: Don't they call that "wrestling?"
> He's even been in a couple
> of really bad movies, one of which is called - I kid you not -
> "Revenge of the Vengeful Ninja Warrior II: The Vengeance".
GAVOK: You... you're not Cynthia! You... you're one of the Vengeful Ninja Warriors on the Vengeance!
II!
TBS <little kid>: My teacher said that every time a bad ninja movie is made,
an angel of Jabootu gets its wings!
RACE <father>: Your teacher's full of snot, kid.
> (Actually,
> Ben's in that one too, for about six seconds; he's the random cop who
> takes out two of the evil ninjas with his nightstick and then catches
> a shuriken in the forehead.)
TBS: Geez, why can't we be reading a story about that?
> "Hey, Zoner," said Ken, clapping me on the shoulder as he
> passed my chair. "How goes?"
> "Not too bad," I replied. "You?"
> "Oh, same old," Ken replied, plopping down on the couch.
ARL: There goes the quality of the Armani.
> Fury
> looked up from his station next to the sofa, checking out the new
> arrival; since it was someone he knew, he didn't get too excited.
> (Actually, I've never seen Fury get too excited about anything.)
GAVOK <Zoner>: So I'm not sure what the point of telling you all this was.
MMK: Fury's a world-weary traveller. If you've seen even *half* of what he's seen, you'd be pretty bored with your measly government facility breaking-into antics too.
> "Hey, Fury!" said Ken, scratching the hound's ears. "How's a
> pup?
MMK: Delicious!
> Huh?" He looked up at Gryph, who was taking a seat on the
> opposite couch, and grinned. "Katie and John keep pestering me to get
> them a dog.
ARL: Oh, how interesting. So who in the blazing crimson *hell* are Katie
and John?
RACE: His wife and kid?
ARL: Their names are Eliza and Mel, unless some fell being from beyond the cosmos just VOMITED up a new continuity for his personal use...
? Maybe I should hit Brother Tommy up for a puppy."
S.D.: That makes it sound like he's gonna send a troupe of mafiosos over to beat it out of him.
> "A bloodhound? In the heart of downtown Boston? Probably not
> the best of ideas."
> "Well, we're down there on the harbor, and I go for my run
> every day. He'd get enough exercise.
RACE <Ken>: Fuck my neighbors! ^_^
> Wouldn't you, boy?"
> "Hey! Get your own," said Gryph, tossing a paperclip
> playfully at Ken.
MMK <Ken>: Fuck that! C'mon, paperclip! Fetch! I'll call you Spot! You're a good little paperclip, aren't
you? Aren't you?
GAVOK <Ken>: AUGH!! MY EYE!! It's hanging by a nerve! IT'S HANGING
BY A NERVE!!
> Ken grinned and leaned back. "Yeah, well... maybe I will.
> Hey, you guys eat yet?"
> "Nope," Ben replied. "I was planning to make pizza later.
> Why, has Eliza stopped feeding you?"
> Ken chuckled. "C'mon, man, have you ever known a time when I
> wasn't hungry?
RACE <Zoner>: There was that one time...
GAVOK <Honda>: Hey, anyone know where my pants are at?
TBS <Ken>: I've suddenly lost my appetite.
> No, Liza and the kids went out to the Cape for the
> weekend. She sends her love, but she said the kids are still too
> young to be going to fights with their father."
MMK: Kim, Genan and Terry will have more balls then you will ever know.
> "Should've known you didn't just come to see us," I
> remarked.
> "Well, you know how it is, guys," said Ken with a smug smile.
> "I can't get her to let me out of her sight all that often."
> "Crack that whip," I replied, wiping away the smugness,
S.D.: Now *there's* a lesson in futility if I ever saw one.
> if
> not the smile.
ARL <Ken>: Actually, I'm fighting Ralf tomorrow. But you were close.
> "Yeah, well, maybe it's what I needed," he said. "You get to
> a point where you've got to have something to come home to, or it just
> doesn't seem worth it any more. At least, I did."
> Coincidentally, I'd been having similar thoughts, and from the
> look of his face, Ben had, too. Curiouser and curiouser.
> The doorbell rang again.
MMK: And in enters Ryan Styles, pretending to be a lion tamer.
> "It's for you," Gryph and I said in unison.
ARL: Wait, how do they-- argh, nevermind.
> Ken blinked, then
> got up, grumbling good-naturedly as he went to answer the door. I
> heard the sound of the lock being worked, then Ken greeting a familiar
> voice.
> "Well, hey, looks who's here!" announced Ken as he returned to
> the living room. "It's a surprise visit from everybody's favorite
> jarhead!"
GAVOK: Chang Koehan!
S.D.: Flynn Taggart!
> A beefy arm seized Ken from behind, hauling him down and back,
> and the grinning face that appeared over his shoulder said, "You young
> layabouts are all the same, making fun of the Corps. I think a little
> military service would have done you a world of good!"
> "I'd throw you over, Charlie,
GAVOK: Aw.
MMK: There there.
> but I imagine it'd piss Zoner
> off if you went flying through his picture window,"
MMK: That was a big turning point in Ken's career when he became heel and broke up the Rockers.
> replied Ken from
> within the headlock.
> "It would be amusing, seeing as it's bulletproof acrylic.
> Take a closer look." Ken smirked a bit; Charlie just kind of blinked.
TBS: Guess Charlie hasn't adjusted to being in the presence of an Eyrie field yet.
> "Might be worth it just for the image," said Gryph with a
> grin. "Now quit manhandling the other guests and sit down.
GAVOK <Gryphon>: Manhandling Ken can wait until *after* dinner.
> Boy... at
> this rate I'm going to have to go out for more supplies before I
> attempt making supper... "
> "I'm in time for chow call? An unexpected bonus!" said our
> newest arrival, Gunnery Sergeant Charlie Nash, USMC.
ARL: Um, no. Charlie's in the Air Force...
>Gryph and I
> hauled his butt out of a Shadolu prison camp in Thailand a couple
> years back,
[A distant sound of breaking glass.]
ARL: [jumps] What was that?
MMK: Just Gryphon throwing a brick through the window that is Street Fighter continuity.
> and we've been friends ever since. I don't know how he
> gets away with that hairdo in the Corps,
S.D.: Same way Guile does, I guess.
> but I guess he's got enough
> seniority to get away with it, or just enough brownie points banked up
> for all the special operations he's been in on.
> "You're looking well, Marine," said Ken as he and Charlie took
> seats on opposite couches.
> "Yeah, I feel good, too," replied Charlie. "In fact, I feel
> better than ever.
> Guile's been on my ass
ALL [*cough uncomfortably*]
> to train up for the fight
> circuit so I can join him. He's got this grand idea that the two of
> us together can do this Lone-Ranger-and-Tonto thing and bring down
> Shadolu all by ourselves."
GAVOK (takes out a pad): Guile and Charlie as the Lone Ranger and Tonto.
RACE: What are you doing?
GAVOK: Ideas for RECBT.
> He grinned. "Personally, I'm hoping it's
> just a phase he's going through." The grin faded as memories
> intruded, and he went on more seriously, "I'd feel a lot better
> dealing with Shadolu with about a company of my fellow Marines
> watching my back. That leader of theirs is a serious freak job. I
> don't think he's human."
S.D.: He's not, he's Raul Julia!
> Ken grinned. "Hardly the attitude I'd expect from a big,
> tough Marine like you."
> "Hey, man, don't get me wrong: I eat nails for breakfast,
TBS <Apollo Creed>: N-n-n-nails!
> but
> I'm not stupid. You're going up against a guy who can fly and read
> minds,
GAVOK <Charlie>: ...and can kill a yak from two hundred yards away...
WITH THE PSYCHO CRUSHER!!
> you better bring some seriously heavy weaponry to the table."
> Gryphon nodded, the mention of Bison turning him grave and
> contemplative, if only for a moment. Then he reached to the end table
> and grabbed a notebook, clicking a pen into readiness.
> "OK, so, since I have to do a little unexpected shopping, are
> there any special topping requests? Nails for Charlie, any others?"
> Charlie laughed. "Hold the nails, I'm off duty."
> "No fish," said Ken. "Other than that, it doesn't really
> matter to me."
> "OK, that's one no nails, one no fish... " said Ben,
> exaggeratedly jotting on the notebook.
> The doorbell rang. Gryph looked up, blinking. "ANOTHER
> unexpected visitor?"
GAVOK: It's either Rufus T. Firefly or Captain Geoffrey Spaulding, I'm not sure.
> "Busy night," Charlie observed. "Do your neighbors know you
> fight?"
> "Most of the City of Worcester knows he fights," I said with a
> grin. "He's quite the local celebrity."
> "Yeah, me and Jerry Harrison," he replied wryly, naming the
> weatherman at Worcester's only TV station, WORC Channel 66.
RACE: Y'know, if you have to explain all your wry local humor in excruciating detail, it's probably not worth including the joke in the first place.
> "Charlie,
> it's for you."
GAVOK <Charlie>: General Thundertrunks, what are you doing here?
> "Sir yes SIR!" Charlie replied, jumping up from the couch and
> doing his best Marine Hustle to the foyer.
THE LOONS <singing>: We're not here to start a tussle, we're just here to
do the Marine Hustle!
> "Hel-LO!" came his deep
> voice after the sound of the door being opened.
ARL: Sargeant Slaughter in a role that will surprise you.
> "Ben said it was for
> me, but I don't think I'm destined to be that lucky today."
> "Well," said Rose airily as she breezed past him into the
> living room,
MMK: Wow, she's a Jupiter Djinn.
> "if I ever find myself in the market again, I'll be sure
> to keep you in mind."
> "Rose!" chorused Gryphon and Ken, punctuated by a deep "Woof!"
S.D.: What's W4 doing there?
> from Fury that may well have meant the same thing in Dog.
> "Boys," Rose replied, taking a seat on the red couch next to
> Ben. "You're having a busy evening," she remarked to him.
> "Yeah, it's a non-stop festival of surprises tonight." He
> held up his notebook. "What do you want on -your- pizza?"
TBS <Rose>: "Rest in Peace."
GAVOK: ... that joke doesn't really work backwards.
> "Oh, I'm in time for dinner, how fortunate," said Rose with a
> smile that said luck had little to do with it.
S.D.: Is pizza really this hard to get in Worcester?
TBS: I wonder if Bison ever uses his psychic powers to see if his
underlings are cooking dinner...
MMK: Probably. Bison strikes me as a huge moocher.
GAVOK: He just *reeks* of moochosity!
MMK: He's full of moochismo!
TBS: He's the mooch king of the whole mooch empire!
> "Well, y'know, now that we've got more than four people, it's
> officially a prefight party," he replied.
RACE: Or an orgy. Whichever.
S.D.: Only in Texas, and that's if they took off their shoes and all did the same thing.
ARL: ...why do you know things like that?
S.D.: I plead the Fifth.
> The doorbell rang.
> "Egad!" said Gryphon.
ARL: It's Mr. Mustard in the Library with the candlestick!
> "It's for me," Rose observed, and she went to get the door as
> Ken and Charlie launched into a reminiscence of the first time Ken met
> Guile (barroom brawl, San Francisco, 1987, if you're curious).
RACE: Ah, so if we're going with Street Fighter 2 V as canon, does that mean Ken is a blatant
homosexual in this?
> Gryph
> and I had heard it before, but we still got quite a laugh out of it.
[GAVOK, RACE, S.D. and MMK begin speaking simultaneously.]
GAVOK <MegaZone>: Hey, Half Horse Productions updated!
RACE <MegaZone>: Ooh, new 'fic at Racewing Productions. Sweet.
S.D. <MegaZone>: "Shadow Dragon Nexus?" Looks interesting...
MMK <MegaZone>: Holy crap, someone actually updated the Church of Kaphwan
page!
***
Someone either drop my line or have me say something else here, if this riff goes in. I'm trying to close *down* the Nexus, except Angelfire is a Bastard and won't let me in. Failing that, I'm just trying to get rid of any links to it, including this one. At least until I get my new site off the ground.
Hakubi messed up one of my riffs. Lemme fix that...
by Gavok
> "Should've known you didn't just come to see us," I
> remarked.
> "Well, you know how it is, guys," said Ken with a smug smile.
> "I can't get her to let me out of her sight all that often."
> "Crack that whip," I replied,
ARL <Ken>: Actually, I'm fighting Ralf tomorrow. But you were close.
> wiping away the smugness,
S.D.: Now *there's* a lesson in futility if I ever saw one.
> The next morning, after lingering in bed as long as I could
> possibly justify it to myself, I got up, showered, took the dog for a
> walk, and then went to deal with the day's arduous job.
ARL: Working as a bingo caller.
> This is the kind of task that no high-school or college-level
> English class can really prepare a person for:
RACE: Waxing Zoner's disgustingly hairy back.
> calling a retired
> government scientist up out of the blue, as a total stranger, and
> recruiting him for a project that wanders around the jagged edge of
> legality. Fortunately, I didn't have to approach it cold; I may not
> have as many connections as Zoner, but I have good ones.
TBS <interviewer>: Just how did you know about the stocks going down, Mr. Hutchins?
MMK <Gryphon>: Excuse me, I'm making a salad.
> "Who are you calling first?" Zoner asked as I plonked down on
> the couch and picked up the phone. "Dr. Sharp?"
> "No," I replied. "Benton Quest."
GAVOK: Unfortunately he's too busy in a custody battle along with Harvey Birdman, Attorney at Law!
> Zoner looked perplexed. "Who?"
> "Benton Quest," I repeated. "You know. Founder of the Quest
> Foundation. President of Quest Industries. Seeker of ancient wisdom.
RACE: So he's on a quest for wisdom.
MMK: That's *nothing*! I know a Bomberman that places bombs!
ARL: ...
[...that might need work.]
> That Benton Quest."
> "You know Benton Quest?
GAVOK <drunken Zoner>: I KNOW Benton Quest!
MMK <drunken Gryphon>: Then let me buy you a round!
> You never mentioned it before."
> "Yeah, I went to high school with his son." Gryphon chuckled.
S.D.: He's really letting this go to his head. Now he's talking in third person.
> "Not that Jonny showed up for school much. He was usually busy
> scrounging around the world seeking the unknown."
RACE <Gryphon>: Because you know, hot chicks covered in body paint are neat.
> "You have some pretty out-there connections," Zoner observed.
> "Et tu, Mr. I-Have-Jim-Greer-On-Speed-Dial?" I replied. "I
> hope they're home... they aren't, all that often."
> "What are you calling Benton Quest for?"
TBS <Gryphon>: I need a ride to the supermarket and your car smells.
> "Shh! It's ringing."
> Fortunately, they were home; after three rings, there was a
> click, and a familiar voice answered,
> "Quest Compound."
> "Hey, Race!"
RACE: Hiya.
> I replied. "How's business?"
> "Who is this?" Race Bannon's voice replied, sounding puzzled.
> "You don't recognize my voice?" I said, trying to put as much
> disappointment in my tone as I could.
> "No," replied Race. "Should I?"
> "Well, I'll give you a hint," I said. "I'm the smartass who
> gave you the 'World's Greatest Mom' mug for Christmas one year."
MMK <Race>: Oh, that could be anybody.
> For a moment, I thought he might have forgotten; as the
> silence stretched into two moments I began to suspect he remembered,
> but no longer found it as amusing as he had then. Then I realized
> he'd muted the phone so I wouldn't be deafened by his guffawing into
> the receiver. He came back on, his voice a little shaky with residual
> chuckles, to exchange some pleasantries.
> "Hey, is Dr. Quest handy?" I asked afterward. "I've got a few
> questions for him."
GAVOK <Randal Graves>: Why do they call him Silent Bob anyways?
> "Sure, hold on... let me put you on speaker," said Race.
> "Wish I had one of those cool video phones you guys make," I
> said.
> "You'd need ISDN," Race replied.
> "Oh, well, hell, forget that," I scoffed. "By the time NYNEX
> gets around to installing it, humanity will have developed long-range
> telepathy."
> Race chuckled again, and then the sound became wide,
> cavernous, and echoey.
> "Hello? Hello? Is this thing on?"
> "Go ahead, Ben," came the voice of Benton Quest.
> "Well, I don't know any slick way of jumping into this, so
> I'll just go directly, I guess. Do you know a couple of scientists,
> names of Amadeus Sharp and Rudy Wells?"
> "I've met Dr. Sharp a few times, yes, at conferences," replied
> Quest. "I know him to say hello to. Dr. Wells I only know by
> reputation. Why?"
S.D. <Gryphon>: Do you know if he likes me?
> "Well, I've got a proposition for you, and I needed to make
> sure you didn't have any sort of weird scientist rivalry with them,
> 'cause they're involved."
ARL <Quest>: Well there was that one time I created 8 killer robots to do yard work and he stole them and reprogrammed them for evil. But that's water under the bridge!
> "I see." He had that intrigued tone I knew him to get from
> time to time. It was a good sign.
> "Well, it's like this. Ever heard of the Bionic Six?"
GAVOK <Quest>: Wasn't Dr. Octopus a member?
MMK <Gryphon>: No, that's the Sinister Six.
GAVOK <Quest>: What about Lee the scared cowboy?
MMK <Gryphon>: No, that's the Magnificent Seven.
GAVOK <Quest>: Okay okay. The Bionic Six are the guys who fight the Coyotes using car combat.
MMK <Gryphon>: No, that's the Vigilante 8.
GAVOK <Quest>: Oh. Then what is the Bionic Six?
MMK <Gryphon>: It's that movie where Rocky beats up the Russian. Duh!
>
> MZ
> While Ben was busy calling around, I prowled around online.
S.D. <Zoner>: This ninja site rules!
TBS: And by "rules" I mean "is totally sweet".
> Greer's info confirmed what I had suspected.
GAVOK: Bruce Wayne really is Batman.
> Most of the Bionic Six's
> equipment was stored in Sky Dancer, which in turn was stored at Area
> 51 in Nevada. That figured, I expected it, but wasn't exactly pleased
> about it. It was going to take some work getting in and out of there.
> The remainder of the equipment was scattered about. The OSI
> offices and the SPL had been gutted, nothing left there.
MMK: What about the ASPL? Huh?
ARL: Or the Scoutmaster, for that matter.
Dr. Sharp
> had managed to keep most of his critical instruments; I hoped Ben was
> able to convince him to sign on. It looked like most of the major
> bionizing equipment was stored at an Army research lab - I'm wasn't
> sure I wanted to know what they were doing with it. Maybe I'll ask
> Greer someday, maybe not. It didn't matter much anyway - I didn't
> anticipate needing to bionize anyone else.
TBS: Bionize an egg! That would rock!
> A few other items had gone to various DARPA contractors as
> technology demonstrators, but since there was only Meg we didn't need
> to equip a team. With Sky Dancer, the Mule, and a couple of quad
> runners all stored together, I figured that's all we would need.
> Of course, we still had to get it. That was easier said than
> done.
> We could try a straight sneak, but the chance of that
> succeeding was roughly the same as those of a good Highlander sequel
> coming out. I wasn't ready to die or visit scenic Leavenworth just
> yet, so I tossed that idea. Trying to spoof our way in might work,
> but it wasn't really solid. I wasn't sure just how far we could get
> on faked credentials.
ARL: You could become a coach at West Virginia if you tried hard enough.
[I hope I got the university right.]
>What we really needed were credentials that at
> least worked as if they were real. They didn't have to exactly -be-
> real. So that was what I would try for.
> I figured the best thing to do was get a number of agencies
> set up so that they were requesting the inventory from each other, a
> Gordian knot of red tape.
GAVOK <Tomax>: Your fault!
MMK <Xamot>: His fault!
GAVOK <Tomax>: Your fault!
MMK <Xamot>: His fault!
> Hopefully anyone who pokes their nose into
> it would tire off following the links, and anyone who didn't would end
> up back where they started, and would probably assume they had screwed
> up and try again. And, with any luck, Greer's help would keep them
> from finding out the truth.
> If we could just make it out of there with the goods, we
> should be safe. Getting in and out was going to be nervy.
S.D.: You mean, involving young kids saving the world with big robots?
ARL: Let's hope not.
>But doable.
> I had to get started on the paper trail.
GAVOK <singing>: Caught up 'tween the conflict of his brain and his tail.
> I'm not sure how long I worked at it; when I get into the
> groove on a project like that, time ceases to have any meaning. For
> that matter, so do most other things.
MMK: In other words, there's no change to the ending of the new Planet of the Apes.
> All that matters is the endless
> duel
GAVOK: MEEP MEEP!
(MMK holds up a sign saying "Genius")
- computers, their legitimate operators, and me. Inserting
> records into government computers is a lot easier than pulling data
> out, though; they don't put as many safeguards on them. Who would
> want to put information -into- a computer they've breached
> illegitimately?
> It was just dumb luck that I noticed Ben was wrapping up his
> phone conversation; glancing at my watch, I realized it had been
> nearly two hours since we both began.
> He hung up the phone and looked up to see me watching.
MMK [Zoner]: Hey, at least wait until I'm gone to have phone sex.
>This
> went on for a couple of seconds, until finally I said, "Well?"
> "Well what?"
> "Well aren't you going to call the others?"
> "Nah," Ben replied. "Dr. Q's going to take care of that for me.
GAVOK <Q>: .........................(This won't hurt a bit)
> In fact, he's going to take care of almost everything - all we have to
> do is get the stuff and take it up to Maine."
> "Maine? Why Maine?"
ARL [Gryphon]: So I can go crab-trapping while saving the world.
> "Because," he said, "the Quest Foundation has agreed to
> provide space and funding for the Tactical Applications Center for the
> Advanced Cybernetic Sciences."
> "TACACS?!"
> "We could always call it Bureau Eight of Zone Services."
> "No, TACACS will do."
> "What about your end?"
> "It'll take me a few days to call in all the markers I'm going
> to have to call, but I've got the basic battle plan laid out."
MMK <Gryphon>: You take the big guy with the beard...
TBS <Zoner>: Okay.
MMK <Gryphon>: And I'll take on the goldfish he's holding in that bowl.
TBS <Zoner>: Okay. Hey!
> "Well, that works out, then. Dr. Quest will need a few days
> to settle everything on his end too - and I have a fight tomorrow,
> don't forget."
> "Oh yeah... I -had- forgotten. Darn... and here I was hoping
> to finish all this up this weekend."
> "A good violation of Federal law should never be rushed," said
> Gryphon philosophically. Before I could come up with a good comeback
> for that, the doorbell rang. "I'll get it," Gryph continued, tramping
> around the corner by the kitchen to answer it.
MMK: But this reincarnation would not go according to plan.
I heard the sounds of a
> cheerful reception, which meant it probably wasn't a solicitor, and a
> moment later, he returned to the living room, laughing, with a friend
> of ours.
GAVOK: Here's hoping for Don Knotts as the wacky landlord.
> At a glance, Ken Masters
GAVOK: Aw...
> looks like a surfer dude, except that
> he lives in the wrong part of the country;
MMK: IN A VAN DOWN BY THE RIVER!
> he's around five-ten and
> buffed, with long reddish-gold hair and a face that usually had a
> rakish grin. There's only good surfing off the Massachusetts coast
> when a stray hurricane whacks into the South Cape (although Ken has
> balls enough to go surfing when that happens),
ARL: Zangief jogs naked in Siberian winters, Ken goes surfing in hurricane-force waves...obviously, Hutchins thinks being a Street Fighter requires the survival instincts of a lemming. The Psygnosis kind.
RACE: Dude, chill. Your ears are starting to bleed.
> but people who call
> his good looks Californian are right anyway - he's originally from
> someplace in the San Francisco Bay Area, and his parents are
> absolutely loaded. They make me look like a welfare case.
RACE [Zoner]: Can anyone spare change for a demigod with thirty million in hi-tech gadgetry?
> The fact that Ken is used to having money is obvious by the
> way he dresses -- here he was having an informal visit with some pals,
> and sporting a $1200 Armani "casual" suit. Some guys just gotta
> flaunt it, I guess. Armani -is- comfortable stuff, though. I
> wondered if he'd driven over in the Porsche or the Vector. Now that's
> a sweet set of wheels.
> I met Ken through Gryph - he's one of Gryph's oldest friends
> from the fight circuit, and eight of Ben's sixty-seven fights on
> that circuit were with him, more than with any other fighter Ben's
> opposed. I would probably have known of him anyway, since he's one of
> the only fighters in that circuit to do any 'legitimate' fighting,
> which has made him more famous than most. He's even been in a couple
> of really bad movies, one of which is called - I kid you not -
> "Revenge of the Vengeful Ninja Warrior II: The Vengeance".
GAVOK: You... you're not Cynthia! You... you're one of the Vengeful Ninja Warriors on the Vengeance! II!
> (Actually,
> Ben's in that one too, for about six seconds; he's the random cop who
> takes out two of the evil ninjas with his nightstick and then catches
> a shuriken in the forehead.)
> "Hey, Zoner," said Ken, clapping me on the shoulder as he
> passed my chair. "How goes?"
> "Not too bad," I replied. "You?"
> "Oh, same old," Ken replied, plopping down on the couch.
ARL: There goes the quality of the Armani.
> Fury
> looked up from his station next to the sofa, checking out the new
> arrival; since it was someone he knew, he didn't get too excited.
> (Actually, I've never seen Fury get too excited about anything.)
> "Hey, Fury!" said Ken, scratching the hound's ears. "How's a
> pup?
MMK: Delicious!
> Huh?" He looked up at Gryph, who was taking a seat on the
> opposite couch, and grinned. "Katie and John keep pestering me to get
> them a dog. Maybe I should hit Brother Tommy up for a puppy."
> "A bloodhound? In the heart of downtown Boston? Probably not
> the best of ideas."
> "Well, we're down there on the harbor, and I go for my run
> every day. He'd get enough exercise. Wouldn't you, boy?"
> "Hey! Get your own," said Gryph, tossing a paperclip
> playfully at Ken.
MMK <Ken>: Fuck that! C'mon, paperclip! Fetch! I'll call you Spot! You're a good little paperclip, aren't you? Aren't you?
> Ken grinned and leaned back. "Yeah, well... maybe I will.
> Hey, you guys eat yet?"
> "Nope," Ben replied. "I was planning to make pizza later.
> Why, has Eliza stopped feeding you?"
> Ken chuckled. "C'mon, man, have you ever known a time when I
> wasn't hungry?
S.D. <Ken>: Full...fuullllll...No comprendo, senor.
RACE <Zoner>: There was that one time...
GAVOK <Honda>: Hey, anyone know where my pants are at?
TBS <Ken>: I've suddenly lost my appetite.
> No, Liza and the kids went out to the Cape for the
> weekend. She sends her love, but she said the kids are still too
> young to be going to fights with their father."
MMK: Kim, Genan and Terry will have more balls then you will ever know.
> "Should've known you didn't just come to see us," I
> remarked.
> "Well, you know how it is, guys," said Ken with a smug smile.
> "I can't get her to let me out of her sight all that often."
> "Crack that whip," I replied, wiping away the smugness, if
> not the smile.
ARL <Ken>: Actually, I'm fighting Ralf tomorrow. But you were close.
> "Yeah, well, maybe it's what I needed," he said. "You get to
> a point where you've got to have something to come home to, or it just
> doesn't seem worth it any more. At least, I did."
> Coincidentally, I'd been having similar thoughts, and from the
> look of his face, Ben had, too. Curiouser and curiouser.
> The doorbell rang again.
MMK: And in enters Ryan Styles, pretending to be a lion tamer.
> "It's for you," Gryph and I said in unison. Ken blinked, then
> got up, grumbling good-naturedly as he went to answer the door. I
> heard the sound of the lock being worked, then Ken greeting a familiar
> voice.
> "Well, hey, looks who's here!" announced Ken as he returned to
> the living room. "It's a surprise visit from everybody's favorite
> jarhead!"
GAVOK: Chang Koehan!
> A beefy arm seized Ken from behind, hauling him down and back,
> and the grinning face that appeared over his shoulder said, "You young
> layabouts are all the same, making fun of the Corps. I think a little
> military service would have done you a world of good!"
> "I'd throw you over, Charlie,
GAVOK: Aw.
MMK: There there.
ARL: And canon goes down the hole again. Charlie's an Army officer, just like Guile.
TBS: Tsk, tsk. What would Vid think?
RACE: He'd be thinking the screen needed a new hole right about now.
TBS: True, true.
[Feel free to delete TBS and beyond if it's a gratuitous insert. That said, if Charlie's a Marine, then why am I in cammies and a high-and-tight haircut while he's wearing that orange jacket and out-of-ARMY-regulation hairdo?]
> but I imagine it'd piss Zoner
> off if you went flying through his picture window,"
MMK: That was a big turning point in Ken's career when he became heel and broke up the Rockers.
> replied Ken from
> within the headlock.
> "It would be amusing, seeing as it's bulletproof acrylic.
> Take a closer look." Ken smirked a bit; Charlie just kind of blinked.
> "Might be worth it just for the image," said Gryph with a
> grin. "Now quit manhandling the other guests and sit down. Boy... at
> this rate I'm going to have to go out for more supplies before I
> attempt making supper... "
> "I'm in time for chow call? An unexpected bonus!" said our
> newest arrival, Gunnery Sergeant Charlie Nash, USMC.
ARL: ...will not make an E-7 joke. I will not make E-7 joke....
Gryph and I
> hauled his butt out of a Shadolu prison camp in Thailand a couple
> years back,
[A distant sound of breaking glass.]
ARL: [jumps] What was that?
MMK: Just Gryphon throwing a brick through the window that is Street Fighter continuity.
> and we've been friends ever since. I don't know how he
> gets away with that hairdo in the Corps, but I guess he's got enough
> seniority to get away with it, or just enough brownie points banked up
> for all the special operations he's been in on.
RACE: I wonder how he gets away with that haircut myself...IN THE ARMY!
> "You're looking well, Marine," said Ken as he and Charlie took
> seats on opposite couches.
> "Yeah, I feel good, too," replied Charlie. "In fact, I feel
> better than ever. Guile's been on my ass to train up for the fight
> circuit so I can join him. He's got this grand idea that the two of
> us together can do this Lone-Ranger-and-Tonto thing and bring down
> Shadolu all by ourselves."
GAVOK (takes out a pad): Guile and Charlie as the Lone Ranger and Tonto.
RACE: What are you doing?
GAVOK: Ideas for RECBT.
> He grinned. "Personally, I'm hoping it's
> just a phase he's going through." The grin faded as memories
> intruded, and he went on more seriously, "I'd feel a lot better
> dealing with Shadolu with about a company of my fellow Marines
> watching my back. That leader of theirs is a serious freak job. I
> don't think he's human."
> Ken grinned. "Hardly the attitude I'd expect from a big,
> tough Marine like you."
> "Hey, man, don't get me wrong: I eat nails for breakfast,
TBS <Apollo Creed>: N-n-n-nails!
> but
> I'm not stupid. You're going up against a guy who can fly and read
> minds, you better bring some seriously heavy weaponry to the table."
[Guys, I don't want to horribly plug and insert myself into a episode I'm not in, but...dude, they're deliberately *asking* for it here.]
> Gryphon nodded, the mention of Bison turning him grave and
> contemplative, if only for a moment. Then he reached to the end table
> and grabbed a notebook, clicking a pen into readiness.
> "OK, so, since I have to do a little unexpected shopping, are
> there any special topping requests? Nails for Charlie, any others?"
> Charlie laughed. "Hold the nails, I'm off duty."
> "No fish," said Ken. "Other than that, it doesn't really
> matter to me."
> "OK, that's one no nails, one no fish... " said Ben,
> exaggeratedly jotting on the notebook.
> The doorbell rang. Gryph looked up, blinking. "ANOTHER
> unexpected visitor?"
GAVOK: It's either Rufus T. Firefly or Captain Geoffrey Spaulding, I'm not sure.
> "Busy night," Charlie observed. "Do your neighbors know you
> fight?"
> "Most of the City of Worcester knows he fights," I said with a
> grin. "He's quite the local celebrity."
> "Yeah, me and Jerry Harrison," he replied wryly, naming the
> weatherman at Worcester's only TV station, WORC Channel 66. "Charlie,
> it's for you."
GAVOK <Charlie>: General Thundertrunks, what are you doing here?
> "Sir yes SIR!" Charlie replied, jumping up from the couch and
> doing his best Marine Hustle to the foyer. "Hel-LO!" came his deep
> voice after the sound of the door being opened. "Ben said it was for
> me, but I don't think I'm destined to be that lucky today."
> "Well," said Rose airily as she breezed past him into the
> living room, "if I ever find myself in the market again, I'll be sure
> to keep you in mind."
> "Rose!" chorused Gryphon and Ken, punctuated by a deep "Woof!"
S.D.: What's W4 doing there?
> from Fury that may well have meant the same thing in Dog.
> "Boys," Rose replied, taking a seat on the red couch next to
> Ben.
ARL: [singing] Be my boys.
S.D.: [singing] I wanna feel your body....
>"You're having a busy evening," she remarked to him.
> "Yeah, it's a non-stop festival of surprises tonight." He
> held up his notebook. "What do you want on -your- pizza?"
> "Oh, I'm in time for dinner, how fortunate," said Rose with a
> smile that said luck had little to do with it.
> "Well, y'know, now that we've got more than four people, it's
> officially a prefight party," he replied.
> The doorbell rang.
> "Egad!" said Gryphon.
> "It's for me," Rose observed, and she went to get the door as
> Ken and Charlie launched into a reminiscence of the first time Ken met
> Guile (barroom brawl, San Francisco, 1987, if you're curious).
RACE: Ah, so if we're going with Street Fighter 2 V as canon, does that mean Ken is a blatant homosexual in this?
> Gryph
> and I had heard it before, but we still got quite a laugh out of it.
MMK: Word, dawg.
GAVOK: I've already taken care of G. You're next.
> The next morning, after lingering in bed as long as I could
> possibly justify it to myself, I got up, showered, took the dog for a
> walk, and then went to deal with the day's arduous job.
ARL: Working as a bingo caller.
> This is the kind of task that no high-school or college-level
> English class can really prepare a person for:
RACE: Waxing Zoner's disgustingly hairy back.
> calling a retired
> government scientist up out of the blue, as a total stranger, and
> recruiting him for a project that wanders around the jagged edge of
> legality. Fortunately, I didn't have to approach it cold; I may not
> have as many connections as Zoner, but I have good ones.
TBS <interviewer>: Just how did you know about the stocks going down, Mr. Hutchins?
MMK <Gryphon>: Excuse me, I'm making a salad.
> "Who are you calling first?" Zoner asked as I plonked down on
> the couch and picked up the phone. "Dr. Sharp?"
> "No," I replied. "Benton Quest."
GAVOK: Unfortunately he's too busy in a custody battle along with Harvey Birdman, Attorney at Law!
> Zoner looked perplexed. "Who?"
> "Benton Quest," I repeated. "You know. Founder of the Quest
> Foundation. President of Quest Industries. Seeker of ancient wisdom.
RACE: So he's on a quest for wisdom.
MMK: That's *nothing*! I know a Bomberman that places bombs!
ARL: ...
[...that might need work.]
> That Benton Quest."
> "You know Benton Quest?
GAVOK <drunken Zoner>: I KNOW Benton Quest!
MMK <drunken Gryphon>: Then let me buy you a round!
> You never mentioned it before."
> "Yeah, I went to high school with his son." Gryphon chuckled.
S.D.: He's really letting this go to his head. Now he's talking in third person.
ARL: So let me get this straight: Johnny Quest went to school in
*Worcester*.
MMK: Everybody who's *anybody* goes to school in Worcester!
> "Not that Jonny showed up for school much. He was usually busy
> scrounging around the world seeking the unknown."
RACE <Gryphon>: Because you know, hot chicks covered in body paint are neat.
> "You have some pretty out-there connections," Zoner observed.
> "Et tu, Mr. I-Have-Jim-Greer-On-Speed-Dial?" I replied. "I
> hope they're home... they aren't, all that often."
> "What are you calling Benton Quest for?"
TBS <Gryphon>: I need a ride to the supermarket and your car smells.
> "Shh! It's ringing."
> Fortunately, they were home; after three rings, there was a
> click, and a familiar voice answered,
> "Quest Compound."
> "Hey, Race!"
RACE: Hiya.
> I replied. "How's business?"
> "Who is this?" Race Bannon's voice replied, sounding puzzled.
TBS <Race>: And what's that heavy breathing? You want to know what I'm wearing?
> "You don't recognize my voice?" I said, trying to put as much
> disappointment in my tone as I could.
> "No," replied Race. "Should I?"
GAVOK <Gryphon>: Palm Beach, 1989. You said you were going out for ice in the morning, but then you never came back to me....
> "Well, I'll give you a hint," I said. "I'm the smartass who
> gave you the 'World's Greatest Mom' mug for Christmas one year."
MMK <Race>: Oh, that could be anybody.
S.D.: -- wait, Gryphon works for Cartoon Network, too?
> For a moment, I thought he might have forgotten; as the
> silence stretched into two moments I began to suspect he remembered,
> but no longer found it as amusing as he had then.
RACE <Gryphon>: As the two moments became a jiffy, I realized that I really needed to run to the bathroom.
> Then I realized
> he'd muted the phone so I wouldn't be deafened by his guffawing into
> the receiver.
ARL <Race>: HAW. HAW. HAW.
> He came back on, his voice a little shaky with residual
> chuckles, to exchange some pleasantries.
> "Hey, is Dr. Quest handy?" I asked afterward. "I've got a few
> questions for him."
GAVOK <Randal Graves>: Why do they call him Silent Bob anyways?
> "Sure, hold on... let me put you on speaker," said Race.
MMK: Absolute proof that deep down, Race really hates Gryphon too.
> "Wish I had one of those cool video phones you guys make," I
> said.
TBS: Well, hey, if you started a *POKEMON* SI series, then--
[I suspect someone will silence Snot here. Feel free to play around with it.]
> "You'd need ISDN," Race replied.
> "Oh, well, hell, forget that," I scoffed. "By the time NYNEX
> gets around to installing it, humanity will have developed long-range
> telepathy."
> Race chuckled again, and then the sound became wide,
> cavernous, and echoey.
GAVOK <Race>: HAW. HAW. HAW. I'M HUGE!
> "Hello? Hello? Is this thing on?"
> "Go ahead, Ben," came the voice of Benton Quest.
> "Well, I don't know any slick way of jumping into this, so
> I'll just go directly, I guess.
RACE <Gryphon>: Are you busy this Saturday night?
MMK <Gryphon>: Do you like pancakes?
> Do you know a couple of scientists,
> names of Amadeus Sharp and Rudy Wells?"
> "I've met Dr. Sharp a few times, yes, at conferences," replied
> Quest. "I know him to say hello to. Dr. Wells I only know by
> reputation. Why?"
S.D. <Gryphon>: Do you know if he likes me?
> "Well, I've got a proposition for you, and I needed to make
> sure you didn't have any sort of weird scientist rivalry with them,
> 'cause they're involved."
ARL <Quest>: Well there was that one time I created 8 killer robots to do yard work and he stole them and reprogrammed them for evil. But that's water under the bridge!
> "I see." He had that intrigued tone I knew him to get from
> time to time. It was a good sign.
> "Well, it's like this. Ever heard of the Bionic Six?"
GAVOK <Quest>: Wasn't Dr. Octopus a member?
MMK <Gryphon>: No, that's the Sinister Six.
GAVOK <Quest>: What about Lee the scared cowboy?
MMK <Gryphon>: No, that's the Magnificent Seven.
GAVOK <Quest>: Okay okay. The Bionic Six are the guys who fight the Coyotes using car combat.
MMK <Gryphon>: No, that's the Vigilante 8.
GAVOK <Quest>: Oh. Then what is the Bionic Six?
MMK <Gryphon>: It's that movie where Rocky beats up the Russian. Duh!
>
> MZ
> While Ben was busy calling around, I prowled around online.
S.D. <Zoner>: This ninja site rules!
TBS: And by "rules" I mean "is totally sweet".
OR]
[GAVOK, RACE, ARL and MMK begin speaking simultaneously.]
GAVOK <MegaZone>: Hey, Half Horse Productions updated!
RACE <MegaZone>: Ooh, new 'fic at Racewing Productions. Sweet.
ARL <MegaZone>: "Autumn Haven?" Looks interesting...
MMK <MegaZone>: Holy crap, someone actually updated the Church of Kaphwan
page!
[They blink and look at each other.]
WAND <over intercom>: You realize that I'm going to have to hurt you for
those horribly shameless-
TBS <MegaZone>: Man, Elsewhere is the coolest web page *ever!*
[Pause.]
WAND <over intercom>: I'll let it slide *this* time...
[Unless Arlieth has a problem with having his web site plugged...?]
> Greer's info confirmed what I had suspected.
GAVOK: Bruce Wayne really is Batman.
> Most of the Bionic Six's
> equipment was stored in Sky Dancer,
ARL: -- wait, the girly version of those goddamn "Dragon Flyz" things?
> which in turn was stored at Area
> 51 in Nevada. That figured, I expected it, but wasn't exactly pleased
> about it. It was going to take some work getting in and out of there.
> The remainder of the equipment was scattered about.
MMK <Zoner>: The living room, the den, the kitchen, even the *bathroom*!
> The OSI
> offices and the SPL had been gutted, nothing left there.
GAVOK <Zoner>: ASAP on the QED, PT. Crap, BRB.
MMK: What about the ASPL? Huh?
ARL: Or the Scoutmaster, for that matter.
>Dr. Sharp
> had managed to keep most of his critical instruments;
S.D. <Dr. Sharp>: Gentlemen, I'm afraid that your story really sucks.
> I hoped Ben was
> able to convince him to sign on. It looked like most of the major
> bionizing equipment was stored at an Army research lab - I'm wasn't
> sure I wanted to know what they were doing with it.
RACE: Don't worry, they're just gonna use it to make Superpatriot.
S.D.: Or they could be building an army of atomic supermen.
ALL: PULL THE STRING!!
>Maybe I'll ask
> Greer someday, maybe not. It didn't matter much anyway - I didn't
> anticipate needing to bionize anyone else.
TBS: Bionize an egg! That would rock!
GAVOK: I dunno, Gryph... "Fury the Bionic Wonder Dog" has a nice ring to it...
> A few other items had gone to various DARPA contractors as
> technology demonstrators, but since there was only Meg we didn't need
> to equip a team. With Sky Dancer, the Mule,
ARL: I'd better not hear one fucking WORD about "Donkey Bread".
> and a couple of quad
> runners all stored together, I figured that's all we would need.
> Of course, we still had to get it. That was easier said than
> done.
TBS <Zoner>: We'd need equipment to make the break into Area 51, and that would require another lengthy online search...
S.D.: Where's he getting all this info from, anyway? "secretinfo.gov"?
RACE: Nah, prolly Google.
ARL: Or Usenet.
> We could try a straight sneak, but the chance of that
> succeeding was roughly the same as those of a good Highlander sequel
> coming out.
TBS: And little did Zoner know of the "Rogue Version" of Highlander 2...
> I wasn't ready to die or visit scenic Leavenworth just
> yet, so I tossed that idea. Trying to spoof our way in might work,
> but it wasn't really solid.
S.D. <Zoner>: Our humor could possibly get buried by awkward attempts at drama.
> I wasn't sure just how far we could get
> on faked credentials.
ARL: You could become a coach at West Virginia if you tried hard enough.
[I hope I got the university right.]
>What we really needed were credentials that at
> least worked as if they were real. They didn't have to exactly -be-
> real.
RACE: So... fake credentials.
> So that was what I would try for.
> I figured the best thing to do was get a number of agencies
> set up so that they were requesting the inventory from each other, a
> Gordian knot of red tape.
GAVOK <Tomax>: Your fault!
MMK <Xamot>: His fault!
GAVOK <Tomax>: Your fault!
MMK <Xamot>: His fault!
> Hopefully anyone who pokes their nose into
> it would tire off following the links, and anyone who didn't would end
> up back where they started, and would probably assume they had screwed
> up and try again.
ARL: Wow, this is genius on the level of "Hackers".
> And, with any luck, Greer's help would keep them
> from finding out the truth.
MMK: ... but isn't it his stuff that you want to take, anyway?
ARL: Zoner, you make that sound as if the U.S. government can figure out what
it's doing *normally.*
> If we could just make it out of there with the goods, we
> should be safe. Getting in and out was going to be nervy.
S.D.: You mean, involving young kids saving the world with big robots?
ARL: Let's hope not.
>But doable.
TBS: I guess this is a summary for people who fell asleep during portions of the last paragraph.
> I had to get started on the paper trail.
GAVOK <singing>: Caught up 'tween the conflict of his brain and his tail.
> I'm not sure how long I worked at it; when I get into the
> groove on a project like that, time ceases to have any meaning. For
> that matter, so do most other things.
MMK: In other words, there's no change to the ending of the new Planet of the Apes.
> All that matters is the endless
> duel
GAVOK: MEEP MEEP!
(MMK holds up a sign saying "Genius")
- computers, their legitimate operators, and me. Inserting
> records into government computers is a lot easier than pulling data
> out, though; they don't put as many safeguards on them.
S.D.: Oh, I see-- HUH?
> Who would
> want to put information -into- a computer they've breached
> illegitimately?
RACE: Um... a hacker?
ARL: People who want to break into secure government facilities without leaving a trail of bodies or shell casings, big-time con artists, enemies of the state... wait, that's what they *become*...
> It was just dumb luck that I noticed Ben was wrapping up his
> phone conversation; glancing at my watch, I realized it had been
> nearly two hours since we both began.
ARL: At least, that's how long it feels like.
> He hung up the phone and looked up to see me watching.
MMK [Zoner]: Hey, at least wait until I'm gone to have phone sex.
>This
> went on for a couple of seconds, until finally I said, "Well?"
MMK <Gryphon>: ... look, we can't see each other anymore. I'm sorry.
> "Well what?"
> "Well aren't you going to call the others?"
> "Nah," Ben replied. "Dr. Q's going to take care of that for me.
GAVOK <Q>: .........................(This won't hurt a bit)
> In fact, he's going to take care of almost everything - all we have to
> do is get the stuff and take it up to Maine."
> "Maine? Why Maine?"
ARL [Gryphon]: So I can go crab-trapping while saving the world.
GAVOK <Gryphon>: Well, when the last time you ever noticed something happening in Maine?
S.D.: Because Maine is the geographical center of the Eyrieverse. Duh.
ARL: "Eyrieverse?"
[S.D. shrugs.]
> "Because," he said, "the Quest Foundation has agreed to
> provide space and funding for the Tactical Applications Center for the
> Advanced Cybernetic Sciences."
> "TACACS?!"
S.D.: Those great little mints that come in the plastic case?
[TACACS is a UNIX thing, right?]
> "We could always call it Bureau Eight of Zone Services."
> "No, TACACS will do."
> "What about your end?"
RACE <Zoner>: That's kinda personal, man.
> "It'll take me a few days to call in all the markers I'm going
> to have to call, but I've got the basic battle plan laid out."
MMK <Gryphon>: You take the big guy with the beard...
TBS <Zoner>: Okay.
MMK <Gryphon>: And I'll take on the goldfish he's holding in that bowl.
TBS <Zoner>: Okay. Hey!
> "Well, that works out, then. Dr. Quest will need a few days
> to settle everything on his end too - and I have a fight tomorrow,
> don't forget."
> "Oh yeah... I -had- forgotten. Darn... and here I was hoping
> to finish all this up this weekend."
ARL: Yeah, it's so hard to engage in anti-government espionage on Sundays. Everything's closed, there's all kinds of traffic out...
> "A good violation of Federal law should never be rushed," said
> Gryphon philosophically. Before I could come up with a good comeback
> for that, the doorbell rang.
MMK: Thank God.
> "I'll get it," Gryph continued, tramping
> around the corner by the kitchen to answer it.
MMK: But this reincarnation would not go according to plan.
I heard the sounds of a
> cheerful reception, which meant it probably wasn't a solicitor, and a
> moment later, he returned to the living room, laughing, with a friend
> of ours.
GAVOK: Here's hoping for Don Knotts as the wacky landlord.
> At a glance, Ken Masters
GAVOK: Aw...
> looks like a surfer dude, except that
> he lives in the wrong part of the country;
MMK: IN A VAN DOWN BY THE RIVER!
> he's around five-ten and
> buffed,
TBS: With a floor waxer.
> with long reddish-gold hair
S.D.: -dyed, of course-
[TBS gasps.]
TBS: No!
S.D.: Yes!
TBS <sadly>: There are no more heroes...
[He begins sobbing, then stops abruptly.]
TBS: Oh well.
> and a face that usually had a
> rakish grin. There's only good surfing off the Massachusetts coast
> when a stray hurricane whacks into the South Cape (although Ken has
> balls enough to go surfing when that happens),
ARL: Zangief jogs naked in Siberian winters, Ken goes surfing in hurricane-force waves...obviously, Hutchins thinks being a Street Fighter requires the survival instincts of a lemming. The Psygnosis kind.
RACE: Dude, chill. Your ears are starting to bleed.
> but people who call
> his good looks Californian are right anyway - he's originally from
> someplace in the San Francisco Bay Area, and his parents are
> absolutely loaded. They make me look like a welfare case.
S.D. <Zoner>: They own TWO top-secret organizations! Can you believe that?!
RACE [Zoner]: Can anyone spare change for a demigod with thirty million in hi-tech gadgetry?
> The fact that Ken is used to having money is obvious by the
> way he dresses -- here he was having an informal visit with some pals,
> and sporting a $1200 Armani "casual" suit. Some guys just gotta
> flaunt it, I guess. Armani -is- comfortable stuff, though.
RACE <Zoner>: Don't think for a minute Ken has more stuff than I do!
> I
> wondered if he'd driven over in the Porsche or the Vector. Now that's
> a sweet set of wheels.
ARL: ... which, the Porsche or the Vector?
> I met Ken through Gryph - he's one of Gryph's oldest friends
> from the fight circuit, and eight of Ben's sixty-seven fights on
> that circuit were with him, more than with any other fighter Ben's
> opposed.
MMK: Hmm. Kuwabara Masters, looks like.
> I would probably have known of him anyway, since he's one of
> the only fighters in that circuit to do any 'legitimate' fighting,
> which has made him more famous than most.
ARL: As opposed to illegitimate fighting, where everyone pulls punches
and the outcomes are predetermined.
RACE: Don't they call that "wrestling?"
> He's even been in a couple
> of really bad movies, one of which is called - I kid you not -
> "Revenge of the Vengeful Ninja Warrior II: The Vengeance".
GAVOK: You... you're not Cynthia! You... you're one of the Vengeful Ninja Warriors on the Vengeance! II!
TBS <little kid>: My teacher said that every time a bad ninja movie is made,
an angel of Jabootu gets its wings!
RACE <father>: Your teacher's full of snot, kid.
> (Actually,
> Ben's in that one too, for about six seconds; he's the random cop who
> takes out two of the evil ninjas with his nightstick and then catches
> a shuriken in the forehead.)
TBS: Geez, why can't we be reading a story about that?
> "Hey, Zoner," said Ken, clapping me on the shoulder as he
> passed my chair. "How goes?"
> "Not too bad," I replied. "You?"
> "Oh, same old," Ken replied, plopping down on the couch.
ARL: There goes the quality of the Armani.
> Fury
> looked up from his station next to the sofa, checking out the new
> arrival; since it was someone he knew, he didn't get too excited.
> (Actually, I've never seen Fury get too excited about anything.)
GAVOK <Zoner>: So I'm not sure what the point of telling you all this was.
MMK: Fury's a world-weary traveller. If you've seen even *half* of what he's seen, you'd be pretty bored with your measly government facility breaking-into antics too.
> "Hey, Fury!" said Ken, scratching the hound's ears. "How's a
> pup?
MMK: Delicious!
> Huh?" He looked up at Gryph, who was taking a seat on the
> opposite couch, and grinned. "Katie and John keep pestering me to get
> them a dog.
ARL: Oh, how interesting. So who in the blazing crimson *hell* are Katie
and John?
RACE: His wife and kid?
ARL: Their names are Eliza and Mel, unless some fell being from beyond the cosmos just VOMITED up a new continuity for his personal use...
> Maybe I should hit Brother Tommy up for a puppy."
S.D.: That makes it sound like he's gonna send a troupe of mafiosos over to beat it out of him.
> "A bloodhound? In the heart of downtown Boston? Probably not
> the best of ideas."
> "Well, we're down there on the harbor, and I go for my run
> every day. He'd get enough exercise.
RACE <Ken>: Fuck my neighbors! ^_^
> Wouldn't you, boy?"
> "Hey! Get your own," said Gryph, tossing a paperclip
> playfully at Ken.
MMK <Ken>: Fuck that! C'mon, paperclip! Fetch! I'll call you Spot! You're a good little paperclip, aren't you? Aren't you?
GAVOK <Ken>: AUGH!! MY EYE!! It's hanging by a nerve! IT'S HANGING
BY A NERVE!!
> Ken grinned and leaned back. "Yeah, well... maybe I will.
> Hey, you guys eat yet?"
> "Nope," Ben replied. "I was planning to make pizza later.
> Why, has Eliza stopped feeding you?"
> Ken chuckled. "C'mon, man, have you ever known a time when I
> wasn't hungry?
S.D. <Ken>: Full...fuullllll...No comprendo, senor.
RACE <Zoner>: There was that one time...
GAVOK <Honda>: Hey, anyone know where my pants are at?
TBS <Ken>: I've suddenly lost my appetite.
> No, Liza and the kids went out to the Cape for the
> weekend. She sends her love, but she said the kids are still too
> young to be going to fights with their father."
MMK: Kim, Genan and Terry will have more balls then you will ever know.
> "Should've known you didn't just come to see us," I
> remarked.
> "Well, you know how it is, guys," said Ken with a smug smile.
> "I can't get her to let me out of her sight all that often."
> "Crack that whip," I replied,
ARL <Ken>: Actually, I'm fighting Ralf tomorrow. But you were close.
> wiping away the smugness,
S.D.: Now *there's* a lesson in futility if I ever saw one.
> if
> not the smile.
> "Yeah, well, maybe it's what I needed," he said. "You get to
> a point where you've got to have something to come home to, or it just
> doesn't seem worth it any more. At least, I did."
> Coincidentally, I'd been having similar thoughts, and from the
> look of his face, Ben had, too. Curiouser and curiouser.
> The doorbell rang again.
MMK: And in enters Ryan Styles, pretending to be a lion tamer.
> "It's for you," Gryph and I said in unison.
ARL: Wait, how do they-- argh, nevermind.
> Ken blinked, then
> got up, grumbling good-naturedly as he went to answer the door. I
> heard the sound of the lock being worked, then Ken greeting a familiar
> voice.
> "Well, hey, looks who's here!" announced Ken as he returned to
> the living room. "It's a surprise visit from everybody's favorite
> jarhead!"
GAVOK: Chang Koehan!
S.D.: Flynn Taggart!
> A beefy arm seized Ken from behind, hauling him down and back,
> and the grinning face that appeared over his shoulder said, "You young
> layabouts are all the same, making fun of the Corps. I think a little
> military service would have done you a world of good!"
> "I'd throw you over, Charlie,
GAVOK, S.D.: Aw.
MMK: There there.
S.D.: I don't need your pity.
GAVOK: Can I have it, then?
S.D.: ...yeah, whatever.
GAVOK: Woo!
ARL: And canon goes down the hole again. Charlie's an Army officer, just like Guile.
TBS: Tsk, tsk. What would Vid think?
RACE: He'd be thinking the screen needed a new hole right about now.
TBS: True, true.
[Feel free to delete TBS and beyond if it's a gratuitous insert. That said, if Charlie's a Marine, then why am I in cammies and a high-and-tight haircut while he's wearing that orange jacket and out-of-ARMY-regulation hairdo?]
> but I imagine it'd piss Zoner
> off if you went flying through his picture window,"
MMK: That was a big turning point in Ken's career when he became heel and broke up the Rockers.
> replied Ken from
> within the headlock.
> "It would be amusing, seeing as it's bulletproof acrylic.
> Take a closer look." Ken smirked a bit; Charlie just kind of blinked.
TBS: Guess Charlie hasn't adjusted to being in the presence of an Eyrie field yet.
> "Might be worth it just for the image," said Gryph with a
> grin. "Now quit manhandling the other guests and sit down.
GAVOK <Gryphon>: Manhandling Ken can wait until *after* dinner.
> Boy... at
> this rate I'm going to have to go out for more supplies before I
> attempt making supper... "
> "I'm in time for chow call? An unexpected bonus!" said our
> newest arrival, Gunnery Sergeant Charlie Nash, USMC.
RACE: Um, no. Charlie's in the Air Force...
ARL: ...will not make an E-7 joke. I will not make E-7 joke....
Gryph and I
> hauled his butt out of a Shadolu prison camp in Thailand a couple
> years back,
[A distant sound of breaking glass.]
ARL: [jumps] What was that?
MMK: Just Gryphon throwing a brick through the window that is Street Fighter continuity.
> and we've been friends ever since. I don't know how he
> gets away with that hairdo in the Corps,
S.D.: Same way Guile does, I guess.
> but I guess he's got enough
> seniority to get away with it, or just enough brownie points banked up
> for all the special operations he's been in on.
RACE: I wonder how he gets away with that haircut myself...IN THE ARMY!
> "You're looking well, Marine," said Ken as he and Charlie took
> seats on opposite couches.
> "Yeah, I feel good, too," replied Charlie. "In fact, I feel
> better than ever. Guile's been on my ass
ALL [*cough uncomfortably*]
> to train up for the fight
> circuit so I can join him. He's got this grand idea that the two of
> us together can do this Lone-Ranger-and-Tonto thing and bring down
> Shadolu all by ourselves."
GAVOK (takes out a pad): Guile and Charlie as the Lone Ranger and Tonto.
RACE: What are you doing?
GAVOK: Ideas for RECBT.
> He grinned. "Personally, I'm hoping it's
> just a phase he's going through." The grin faded as memories
> intruded, and he went on more seriously, "I'd feel a lot better
> dealing with Shadolu with about a company of my fellow Marines
> watching my back. That leader of theirs is a serious freak job. I
> don't think he's human."
S.D.: He's not, he's Raul Julia!
> Ken grinned. "Hardly the attitude I'd expect from a big,
> tough Marine like you."
> "Hey, man, don't get me wrong: I eat nails for breakfast,
TBS <Apollo Creed>: N-n-n-nails!
> but
> I'm not stupid. You're going up against a guy who can fly and read
> minds,
GAVOK <Charlie>: ...and can kill a yak from two hundred yards away...
WITH THE PSYCHO CRUSHER!!
> you better bring some seriously heavy weaponry to the table."
[Guys, I don't want to horribly plug and insert myself into a episode I'm not in, but...dude, they're deliberately *asking* for it here.]
> Gryphon nodded, the mention of Bison turning him grave and
> contemplative, if only for a moment. Then he reached to the end table
> and grabbed a notebook, clicking a pen into readiness.
> "OK, so, since I have to do a little unexpected shopping, are
> there any special topping requests? Nails for Charlie, any others?"
> Charlie laughed. "Hold the nails, I'm off duty."
> "No fish," said Ken. "Other than that, it doesn't really
> matter to me."
> "OK, that's one no nails, one no fish... " said Ben,
> exaggeratedly jotting on the notebook.
> The doorbell rang. Gryph looked up, blinking. "ANOTHER
> unexpected visitor?"
GAVOK: It's either Rufus T. Firefly or Captain Geoffrey Spaulding, I'm not sure.
> "Busy night," Charlie observed. "Do your neighbors know you
> fight?"
> "Most of the City of Worcester knows he fights," I said with a
> grin. "He's quite the local celebrity."
> "Yeah, me and Jerry Harrison," he replied wryly, naming the
> weatherman at Worcester's only TV station, WORC Channel 66.
RACE: Y'know, if you have to explain all your wry local humor in excruciating detail, it's probably not worth including the joke in the first place.
> "Charlie,
> it's for you."
GAVOK <Charlie>: General Thundertrunks, what are you doing here?
> "Sir yes SIR!" Charlie replied, jumping up from the couch and
> doing his best Marine Hustle to the foyer.
THE LOONS <singing>: We're not here to start a tussle, we're just here to
do the Marine Hustle!
> "Hel-LO!" came his deep
> voice after the sound of the door being opened.
ARL: Sargeant Slaughter in a role that will surprise you.
> "Ben said it was for
> me, but I don't think I'm destined to be that lucky today."
> "Well," said Rose airily as she breezed past him into the
> living room,
MMK: Wow, she's a Jupiter Djinn.
> "if I ever find myself in the market again, I'll be sure
> to keep you in mind."
> "Rose!" chorused Gryphon and Ken, punctuated by a deep "Woof!"
S.D.: What's W4 doing there?
> from Fury that may well have meant the same thing in Dog.
> "Boys," Rose replied, taking a seat on the red couch next to
> Ben.
ARL: [singing] Be my boys.
S.D.: [singing] I wanna feel your body....
>"You're having a busy evening," she remarked to him.
> "Yeah, it's a non-stop festival of surprises tonight." He
> held up his notebook. "What do you want on -your- pizza?"
TBS <Rose>: "Rest in Peace."
GAVOK: ... that joke doesn't really work backwards.
> "Oh, I'm in time for dinner, how fortunate," said Rose with a
> smile that said luck had little to do with it.
S.D.: Is pizza really this hard to get in Worcester?
TBS: I wonder if Bison ever uses his psychic powers to see if his
underlings are cooking dinner...
MMK: Probably. Bison strikes me as a huge moocher.
GAVOK: He just *reeks* of moochosity!
MMK: He's full of moochismo!
GAVOK: Yeah, he is!
> "Well, y'know, now that we've got more than four people, it's
> officially a prefight party," he replied.
RACE: Or an orgy. Whichever.
S.D.: Only in Texas, and that's if they took off their shoes and all did the same thing.
ARL: ...why do you know things like that?
S.D.: I plead the Fifth.
> The doorbell rang.
> "Egad!" said Gryphon.
ARL: It's Mr. Mustard in the Library with the candlestick!
> "It's for me," Rose observed, and she went to get the door as
> Ken and Charlie launched into a reminiscence of the first time Ken met
> Guile (barroom brawl, San Francisco, 1987, if you're curious).
RACE: Ah, so if we're going with Street Fighter 2 V as canon, does that mean Ken is a blatant homosexual in this?
> Gryph
> and I had heard it before, but we still got quite a laugh out of it.
MMK: Word, dawg.
GAVOK: I've already taken care of G. You're next.
> The next morning, after lingering in bed as long as I could
> possibly justify it to myself,
???: I lingered some more.
> I got up, showered, took the dog for a
> walk, and then went to deal with the day's arduous job.
ARL: Working as a bingo caller.
S.D: Why does the world need another description of Ben's Usual Morning?
> This is the kind of task that no high-school or college-level
> English class can really prepare a person for:
RACE: Waxing Zoner's disgustingly hairy back.
> calling a retired
> government scientist up out of the blue, as a total stranger, and
> recruiting him for a project that wanders around the jagged edge of
> legality.
???: I'm sure you want the orbital death-ray cannon for perfectly normal reasons and not anyhting dangerous or the like.
> Fortunately, I didn't have to approach it cold; I may not
> have as many connections as Zoner, but I have good ones.
TBS <interviewer>: Just how did you know about the stocks going down, Mr. Hutchins?
MMK <Gryphon>: Excuse me, I'm making a salad.
> "Who are you calling first?" Zoner asked as I plonked down on
> the couch and picked up the phone. "Dr. Sharp?"
> "No," I replied. "Benton Quest."
GAVOK: Unfortunately he's too busy in a custody battle along with Harvey Birdman, Attorney at Law!
> Zoner looked perplexed. "Who?"
> "Benton Quest," I repeated. "You know. Founder of the Quest
> Foundation. President of Quest Industries. Seeker of ancient wisdom.
RACE: So he's on a quest for wisdom.
MMK: That's *nothing*! I know a Bomberman that places bombs!
ARL: ...
[...that might need work.]
> That Benton Quest."
> "You know Benton Quest?
GAVOK <drunken Zoner>: I KNOW Benton Quest!
MMK <drunken Gryphon>: Then let me buy you a round!
> You never mentioned it before."
> "Yeah, I went to high school with his son." Gryphon chuckled.
S.D.: He's really letting this go to his head. Now he's talking in third person.
ARL: So let me get this straight: Johnny Quest went to school in
*Worcester*.
MMK: Everybody who's *anybody* goes to school in Worcester!
> "Not that Jonny showed up for school much. He was usually busy
> scrounging around the world seeking the unknown."
RACE <Gryphon>: Because you know, hot chicks covered in body paint are neat.
S.D: For some reason, Jonny as described here sounds a lot like DJ Croft. Can't figure why...
> "You have some pretty out-there connections," Zoner observed.
> "Et tu, Mr. I-Have-Jim-Greer-On-Speed-Dial?" I replied. "I
> hope they're home... they aren't, all that often."
> "What are you calling Benton Quest for?"
TBS <Gryphon>: I need a ride to the supermarket and your car smells.
> "Shh! It's ringing."
> Fortunately, they were home; after three rings, there was a
> click, and a familiar voice answered,
???: Oddly enough, it was "Howling Mad" Murphy.
[Am I the only one here who thinks Race and Murhpy look identical?]
> "Quest Compound."
> "Hey, Race!"
RACE: Hiya.
> I replied. "How's business?"
> "Who is this?" Race Bannon's voice replied, sounding puzzled.
TBS <Race>: And what's that heavy breathing? You want to know what I'm wearing?
> "You don't recognize my voice?" I said, trying to put as much
> disappointment in my tone as I could.
> "No," replied Race. "Should I?"
GAVOK <Gryphon>: Palm Beach, 1989. You said you were going out for ice in the morning, but then you never came back to me....
> "Well, I'll give you a hint," I said. "I'm the smartass who
> gave you the 'World's Greatest Mom' mug for Christmas one year."
MMK <Race>: Oh, that could be anybody.
S.D.: -- wait, Gryphon works for Cartoon Network, too?
> For a moment, I thought he might have forgotten; as the
> silence stretched into two moments I began to suspect he remembered,
> but no longer found it as amusing as he had then.
RACE <Gryphon>: As the two moments became a jiffy, I realized that I really needed to run to the bathroom.
> Then I realized
> he'd muted the phone so I wouldn't be deafened by his guffawing into
> the receiver.
ARL <Race>: HAW. HAW. HAW.
> He came back on, his voice a little shaky with residual
> chuckles, to exchange some pleasantries.
> "Hey, is Dr. Quest handy?" I asked afterward. "I've got a few
> questions for him."
GAVOK <Randal Graves>: Why do they call him Silent Bob anyways?
> "Sure, hold on... let me put you on speaker," said Race.
MMK: Absolute proof that deep down, Race really hates Gryphon too.
> "Wish I had one of those cool video phones you guys make," I
> said.
TBS: Well, hey, if you started a *POKEMON* SI series, then--
[I suspect someone will silence Snot here. Feel free to play around with it.]
> "You'd need ISDN," Race replied.
> "Oh, well, hell, forget that," I scoffed. "By the time NYNEX
> gets around to installing it, humanity will have developed long-range
> telepathy."
> Race chuckled again, and then the sound became wide,
> cavernous, and echoey.
GAVOK <Race>: HAW. HAW. HAW. I'M HUGE!
> "Hello? Hello? Is this thing on?"
> "Go ahead, Ben," came the voice of Benton Quest.
> "Well, I don't know any slick way of jumping into this, so
> I'll just go directly, I guess.
RACE <Gryphon>: Are you busy this Saturday night?
MMK <Gryphon>: Do you like pancakes?
> Do you know a couple of scientists,
> names of Amadeus Sharp and Rudy Wells?"
> "I've met Dr. Sharp a few times, yes, at conferences," replied
> Quest. "I know him to say hello to. Dr. Wells I only know by
> reputation. Why?"
S.D. <Gryphon>: Do you know if he likes me?
> "Well, I've got a proposition for you, and I needed to make
> sure you didn't have any sort of weird scientist rivalry with them,
> 'cause they're involved."
ARL <Quest>: Well there was that one time I created 8 killer robots to do yard work and he stole them and reprogrammed them for evil. But that's water under the bridge!
> "I see." He had that intrigued tone I knew him to get from
> time to time. It was a good sign.
> "Well, it's like this. Ever heard of the Bionic Six?"
GAVOK <Quest>: Wasn't Dr. Octopus a member?
MMK <Gryphon>: No, that's the Sinister Six.
GAVOK <Quest>: What about Lee the scared cowboy?
MMK <Gryphon>: No, that's the Magnificent Seven.
GAVOK <Quest>: Okay okay. The Bionic Six are the guys who fight the Coyotes using car combat.
MMK <Gryphon>: No, that's the Vigilante 8.
GAVOK <Quest>: Oh. Then what is the Bionic Six?
MMK <Gryphon>: It's that movie where Rocky beats up the Russian. Duh!
>
> MZ
> While Ben was busy calling around, I prowled around online.
S.D. <Zoner>: This ninja site rules!
TBS: And by "rules" I mean "is totally sweet".
OR]
[GAVOK, RACE, ARL and MMK begin speaking simultaneously.]
GAVOK <MegaZone>: Hey, Half Horse Productions updated!
RACE <MegaZone>: Ooh, new 'fic at Racewing Productions. Sweet.
ARL <MegaZone>: "Autumn Haven?" Looks interesting...
MMK <MegaZone>: Holy crap, someone actually updated the Church of Kaphwan
page!
[They blink and look at each other.]
WAND <over intercom>: You realize that I'm going to have to hurt you for
those horribly shameless-
TBS <MegaZone>: Man, Elsewhere is the coolest web page *ever!*
[Pause.]
WAND <over intercom>: I'll let it slide *this* time...
[Unless Arlieth has a problem with having his web site plugged...?]
> Greer's info confirmed what I had suspected.
GAVOK: Bruce Wayne really is Batman.
> Most of the Bionic Six's
> equipment was stored in Sky Dancer,
ARL: -- wait, the girly version of those goddamn "Dragon Flyz" things?
> which in turn was stored at Area
> 51 in Nevada.
???: Which in turn was under a rock in Canada.
[Along with EVA-04, actually. I'll shut up now. - Rick R]
> That figured, I expected it, but wasn't exactly pleased
> about it. It was going to take some work getting in and out of there.
> The remainder of the equipment was scattered about.
MMK <Zoner>: The living room, the den, the kitchen, even the *bathroom*!
> The OSI
> offices and the SPL had been gutted, nothing left there.
GAVOK <Zoner>: ASAP on the QED, PT. Crap, BRB.
MMK: What about the ASPL? Huh?
ARL: Or the Scoutmaster, for that matter.
>Dr. Sharp
> had managed to keep most of his critical instruments;
S.D. <Dr. Sharp>: Gentlemen, I'm afraid that your story really sucks.
> I hoped Ben was
> able to convince him to sign on. It looked like most of the major
> bionizing equipment was stored at an Army research lab - I'm wasn't
> sure I wanted to know what they were doing with it.
RACE: Don't worry, they're just gonna use it to make Superpatriot.
S.D.: Or they could be building an army of atomic supermen.
ALL: PULL THE STRING!!
>Maybe I'll ask
> Greer someday, maybe not. It didn't matter much anyway - I didn't
> anticipate needing to bionize anyone else.
TBS: Bionize an egg! That would rock!
GAVOK: I dunno, Gryph... "Fury the Bionic Wonder Dog" has a nice ring to it...
> A few other items had gone to various DARPA contractors as
> technology demonstrators, but since there was only Meg we didn't need
> to equip a team. With Sky Dancer, the Mule,
ARL: I'd better not hear one fucking WORD about "Donkey Bread".
> and a couple of quad
> runners all stored together, I figured that's all we would need.
> Of course, we still had to get it. That was easier said than
> done.
TBS <Zoner>: We'd need equipment to make the break into Area 51, and that would require another lengthy online search...
S.D.: Where's he getting all this info from, anyway? "secretinfo.gov"?
RACE: Nah, prolly Google.
ARL: Or Usenet.
> We could try a straight sneak, but the chance of that
> succeeding was roughly the same as those of a good Highlander sequel
> coming out.
TBS: And little did Zoner know of the "Rogue Version" of Highlander 2...
> I wasn't ready to die or visit scenic Leavenworth just
> yet, so I tossed that idea. Trying to spoof our way in might work,
> but it wasn't really solid.
S.D. <Zoner>: Our humor could possibly get buried by awkward attempts at drama.
> I wasn't sure just how far we could get
> on faked credentials.
ARL: You could become a coach at West Virginia if you tried hard enough.
[I hope I got the university right.]
>What we really needed were credentials that at
> least worked as if they were real. They didn't have to exactly -be-
> real.
RACE: So... fake credentials.
> So that was what I would try for.
> I figured the best thing to do was get a number of agencies
> set up so that they were requesting the inventory from each other, a
> Gordian knot of red tape.
GAVOK <Tomax>: Your fault!
MMK <Xamot>: His fault!
GAVOK <Tomax>: Your fault!
MMK <Xamot>: His fault!
> Hopefully anyone who pokes their nose into
> it would tire off following the links, and anyone who didn't would end
> up back where they started, and would probably assume they had screwed
> up and try again.
ARL: Wow, this is genius on the level of "Hackers".
> And, with any luck, Greer's help would keep them
> from finding out the truth.
MMK: ... but isn't it his stuff that you want to take, anyway?
ARL: Zoner, you make that sound as if the U.S. government can figure out what
it's doing *normally.*
> If we could just make it out of there with the goods, we
> should be safe. Getting in and out was going to be nervy.
S.D.: You mean, involving young kids saving the world with big robots?
ARL: Let's hope not.
>But doable.
TBS: I guess this is a summary for people who fell asleep during portions of the last paragraph.
> I had to get started on the paper trail.
GAVOK <singing>: Caught up 'tween the conflict of his brain and his tail.
> I'm not sure how long I worked at it; when I get into the
> groove on a project like that, time ceases to have any meaning. For
> that matter, so do most other things.
MMK: In other words, there's no change to the ending of the new Planet of the Apes.
> All that matters is the endless
> duel
GAVOK: MEEP MEEP!
(MMK holds up a sign saying "Genius")
- computers, their legitimate operators, and me. Inserting
> records into government computers is a lot easier than pulling data
> out, though; they don't put as many safeguards on them.
S.D.: Oh, I see-- HUH?
> Who would
> want to put information -into- a computer they've breached
> illegitimately?
RACE: Um... a hacker?
ARL: People who want to break into secure government facilities without leaving a trail of bodies or shell casings, big-time con artists, enemies of the state... wait, that's what they *become*...
> It was just dumb luck that I noticed Ben was wrapping up his
> phone conversation; glancing at my watch, I realized it had been
> nearly two hours since we both began.
ARL: At least, that's how long it feels like.
> He hung up the phone and looked up to see me watching.
MMK [Zoner]: Hey, at least wait until I'm gone to have phone sex.
>This
> went on for a couple of seconds, until finally I said, "Well?"
MMK <Gryphon>: ... look, we can't see each other anymore. I'm sorry.
> "Well what?"
> "Well aren't you going to call the others?"
> "Nah," Ben replied. "Dr. Q's going to take care of that for me.
GAVOK <Q>: .........................(This won't hurt a bit)
> In fact, he's going to take care of almost everything - all we have to
> do is get the stuff and take it up to Maine."
> "Maine? Why Maine?"
ARL [Gryphon]: So I can go crab-trapping while saving the world.
GAVOK <Gryphon>: Well, when the last time you ever noticed something happening in Maine?
S.D.: Because Maine is the geographical center of the Eyrieverse. Duh.
ARL: "Eyrieverse?"
[S.D. shrugs.]
> "Because," he said, "the Quest Foundation has agreed to
> provide space and funding for the Tactical Applications Center for the
> Advanced Cybernetic Sciences."
> "TACACS?!"
S.D.: Those great little mints that come in the plastic case?
[TACACS is a UNIX thing, right?]
> "We could always call it Bureau Eight of Zone Services."
> "No, TACACS will do."
> "What about your end?"
RACE <Zoner>: That's kinda personal, man.
> "It'll take me a few days to call in all the markers I'm going
> to have to call, but I've got the basic battle plan laid out."
MMK <Gryphon>: You take the big guy with the beard...
TBS <Zoner>: Okay.
MMK <Gryphon>: And I'll take on the goldfish he's holding in that bowl.
TBS <Zoner>: Okay. Hey!
> "Well, that works out, then. Dr. Quest will need a few days
> to settle everything on his end too - and I have a fight tomorrow,
> don't forget."
S.D: I was wondering how long it'd be before we got to Ben's opponent of the day.
???: I guess now's as good a time as any to throw a few random elements into the plot mixer.
> "Oh yeah... I -had- forgotten. Darn... and here I was hoping
> to finish all this up this weekend."
ARL: Yeah, it's so hard to engage in anti-government espionage on Sundays. Everything's closed, there's all kinds of traffic out...
> "A good violation of Federal law should never be rushed," said
> Gryphon philosophically. Before I could come up with a good comeback
> for that, the doorbell rang.
MMK: Thank God.
> "I'll get it," Gryph continued, tramping
> around the corner by the kitchen to answer it.
MMK: But this reincarnation would not go according to plan.
> I heard the sounds of a
> cheerful reception, which meant it probably wasn't a solicitor, and a
> moment later, he returned to the living room, laughing, with a friend
> of ours.
GAVOK: Here's hoping for Don Knotts as the wacky landlord.
> At a glance, Ken Masters
GAVOK: Aw...
> looks like a surfer dude, except that
> he lives in the wrong part of the country;
MMK: IN A VAN DOWN BY THE RIVER!
> he's around five-ten and
> buffed,
TBS: With a floor waxer.
> with long reddish-gold hair
S.D.: -dyed, of course-
[TBS gasps.]
TBS: No!
S.D.: Yes!
TBS <sadly>: There are no more heroes...
[He begins sobbing, then stops abruptly.]
TBS: Oh well.
> and a face that usually had a
> rakish grin.
???: By "Rakish" he means "Shit-eating."
> There's only good surfing off the Massachusetts coast
> when a stray hurricane whacks into the South Cape (although Ken has
> balls enough to go surfing when that happens),
ARL: Zangief jogs naked in Siberian winters, Ken goes surfing in hurricane-force waves...obviously, Hutchins thinks being a Street Fighter requires the survival instincts of a lemming. The Psygnosis kind.
RACE: Dude, chill. Your ears are starting to bleed.
> but people who call
> his good looks Californian are right anyway - he's originally from
> someplace in the San Francisco Bay Area, and his parents are
> absolutely loaded. They make me look like a welfare case.
S.D. <Zoner>: They own TWO top-secret organizations! Can you believe that?!
RACE [Zoner]: Can anyone spare change for a demigod with thirty million in hi-tech gadgetry?
> The fact that Ken is used to having money is obvious by the
> way he dresses -- here he was having an informal visit with some pals,
> and sporting a $1200 Armani "casual" suit. Some guys just gotta
> flaunt it, I guess. Armani -is- comfortable stuff, though.
RACE <Zoner>: Don't think for a minute Ken has more stuff than I do!
> I
> wondered if he'd driven over in the Porsche or the Vector. Now that's
> a sweet set of wheels.
ARL: ... which, the Porsche or the Vector?
> I met Ken through Gryph - he's one of Gryph's oldest friends
> from the fight circuit,
???: Between the two of you, is there anyone you don't know?
> and eight of Ben's sixty-seven fights on
> that circuit were with him, more than with any other fighter Ben's
> opposed.
MMK: Hmm. Kuwabara Masters, looks like.
> I would probably have known of him anyway, since he's one of
> the only fighters in that circuit to do any 'legitimate' fighting,
> which has made him more famous than most.
ARL: As opposed to illegitimate fighting, where everyone pulls punches
and the outcomes are predetermined.
RACE: Don't they call that "wrestling?"
> He's even been in a couple
> of really bad movies, one of which is called - I kid you not -
> "Revenge of the Vengeful Ninja Warrior II: The Vengeance".
GAVOK: You... you're not Cynthia! You... you're one of the Vengeful Ninja Warriors on the Vengeance! II!
TBS <little kid>: My teacher said that every time a bad ninja movie is made,
an angel of Jabootu gets its wings!
RACE <father>: Your teacher's full of snot, kid.
> (Actually,
> Ben's in that one too, for about six seconds; he's the random cop who
> takes out two of the evil ninjas with his nightstick and then catches
> a shuriken in the forehead.)
TBS: Geez, why can't we be reading a story about that?
> "Hey, Zoner," said Ken, clapping me on the shoulder as he
> passed my chair. "How goes?"
> "Not too bad," I replied. "You?"
> "Oh, same old," Ken replied, plopping down on the couch.
ARL: There goes the quality of the Armani.
> Fury
> looked up from his station next to the sofa, checking out the new
> arrival; since it was someone he knew, he didn't get too excited.
> (Actually, I've never seen Fury get too excited about anything.)
GAVOK <Zoner>: So I'm not sure what the point of telling you all this was.
MMK: Fury's a world-weary traveller. If you've seen even *half* of what he's seen, you'd be pretty bored with your measly government facility breaking-into antics too.
> "Hey, Fury!" said Ken, scratching the hound's ears. "How's a
> pup?
MMK: Delicious!
> Huh?" He looked up at Gryph, who was taking a seat on the
> opposite couch, and grinned. "Katie and John keep pestering me to get
> them a dog.
ARL: Oh, how interesting. So who in the blazing crimson *hell* are Katie
and John?
RACE: His wife and kid?
ARL: Their names are Eliza and Mel, unless some fell being from beyond the cosmos just VOMITED up a new continuity for his personal use...
S.D: Welcome to the Eyrieverse.
ARL: "Eyrieverse?"
> Maybe I should hit Brother Tommy up for a puppy."
S.D.: That makes it sound like he's gonna send a troupe of mafiosos over to beat it out of him.
> "A bloodhound? In the heart of downtown Boston? Probably not
> the best of ideas."
> "Well, we're down there on the harbor, and I go for my run
> every day. He'd get enough exercise.
RACE <Ken>: Fuck my neighbors! ^_^
> Wouldn't you, boy?"
> "Hey! Get your own," said Gryph, tossing a paperclip
> playfully at Ken.
MMK <Ken>: Fuck that! C'mon, paperclip! Fetch! I'll call you Spot! You're a good little paperclip, aren't you? Aren't you?
GAVOK <Ken>: AUGH!! MY EYE!! It's hanging by a nerve! IT'S HANGING
BY A NERVE!!
> Ken grinned and leaned back. "Yeah, well... maybe I will.
> Hey, you guys eat yet?"
> "Nope," Ben replied. "I was planning to make pizza later.
> Why, has Eliza stopped feeding you?"
> Ken chuckled. "C'mon, man, have you ever known a time when I
> wasn't hungry?
S.D. <Ken>: Full...fuullllll...No comprendo, senor.
RACE <Zoner>: There was that one time...
GAVOK <Honda>: Hey, anyone know where my pants are at?
TBS <Ken>: I've suddenly lost my appetite.
> No, Liza and the kids went out to the Cape for the
> weekend. She sends her love, but she said the kids are still too
> young to be going to fights with their father."
MMK: Kim, Genan and Terry will have more balls then you will ever know.
> "Should've known you didn't just come to see us," I
> remarked.
???: Would you visit G and MZ if you could avoid it?
> "Well, you know how it is, guys," said Ken with a smug smile.
> "I can't get her to let me out of her sight all that often."
> "Crack that whip," I replied,
ARL <Ken>: Actually, I'm fighting Ralf tomorrow. But you were close.
> wiping away the smugness,
S.D.: Now *there's* a lesson in futility if I ever saw one.
> if
> not the smile.
> "Yeah, well, maybe it's what I needed," he said. "You get to
> a point where you've got to have something to come home to, or it just
> doesn't seem worth it any more. At least, I did."
??? <Ken>: I had my collection of singing potatoes!
> Coincidentally, I'd been having similar thoughts, and from the
> look of his face, Ben had, too. Curiouser and curiouser.
> The doorbell rang again.
MMK: And in enters Ryan Styles, pretending to be a lion tamer.
> "It's for you," Gryph and I said in unison.
ARL: Wait, how do they-- argh, nevermind.
> Ken blinked, then
> got up, grumbling good-naturedly as he went to answer the door. I
> heard the sound of the lock being worked, then Ken greeting a familiar
> voice.
> "Well, hey, looks who's here!" announced Ken as he returned to
> the living room. "It's a surprise visit from everybody's favorite
> jarhead!"
GAVOK: Chang Koehan!
S.D.: Flynn Taggart!
> A beefy arm seized Ken from behind, hauling him down and back,
> and the grinning face that appeared over his shoulder said, "You young
> layabouts are all the same, making fun of the Corps.
???: Well what do you expect for two-buck GI Joe knockoffs? Respect?
[Well that was stupid and obscurish of me. Chop if you wish - Rick R.]
> I think a little
> military service would have done you a world of good!"
> "I'd throw you over, Charlie,
GAVOK, S.D.: Aw.
MMK: There there.
S.D.: I don't need your pity.
GAVOK: Can I have it, then?
S.D.: ...yeah, whatever.
GAVOK: Woo!
ARL: And canon goes down the hole again. Charlie's an Army officer, just like Guile.
TBS: Tsk, tsk. What would Vid think?
RACE: He'd be thinking the screen needed a new hole right about now.
TBS: True, true.
[Feel free to delete TBS and beyond if it's a gratuitous insert. That said, if Charlie's a Marine, then why am I in cammies and a high-and-tight haircut while he's wearing that orange jacket and out-of-ARMY-regulation hairdo?]
> but I imagine it'd piss Zoner
> off if you went flying through his picture window,"
MMK: That was a big turning point in Ken's career when he became heel and broke up the Rockers.
> replied Ken from
> within the headlock.
> "It would be amusing, seeing as it's bulletproof acrylic.
> Take a closer look." Ken smirked a bit; Charlie just kind of blinked.
TBS: Guess Charlie hasn't adjusted to being in the presence of an Eyrie field yet.
> "Might be worth it just for the image," said Gryph with a
> grin. "Now quit manhandling the other guests and sit down.
GAVOK <Gryphon>: Manhandling Ken can wait until *after* dinner.
> Boy... at
> this rate I'm going to have to go out for more supplies before I
> attempt making supper... "
> "I'm in time for chow call? An unexpected bonus!" said our
> newest arrival, Gunnery Sergeant Charlie Nash, USMC.
RACE: Um, no. Charlie's in the Air Force...
ARL: ...will not make an E-7 joke. I will not make E-7 joke....
Gryph and I
> hauled his butt out of a Shadolu prison camp in Thailand a couple
> years back,
[A distant sound of breaking glass.]
ARL: [jumps] What was that?
MMK: Just Gryphon throwing a brick through the window that is Street Fighter continuity.
> and we've been friends ever since. I don't know how he
> gets away with that hairdo in the Corps,
S.D.: Same way Guile does, I guess.
> but I guess he's got enough
> seniority to get away with it, or just enough brownie points banked up
> for all the special operations he's been in on.
RACE: I wonder how he gets away with that haircut myself...IN THE ARMY!
> "You're looking well, Marine," said Ken as he and Charlie took
> seats on opposite couches.
> "Yeah, I feel good, too," replied Charlie. "In fact, I feel
> better than ever. Guile's been on my ass
ALL [*cough uncomfortably*]
> to train up for the fight
> circuit so I can join him. He's got this grand idea that the two of
> us together can do this Lone-Ranger-and-Tonto thing and bring down
> Shadolu all by ourselves."
GAVOK (takes out a pad): Guile and Charlie as the Lone Ranger and Tonto.
RACE: What are you doing?
GAVOK: Ideas for RECBT.
> He grinned. "Personally, I'm hoping it's
> just a phase he's going through." The grin faded as memories
> intruded, and he went on more seriously, "I'd feel a lot better
> dealing with Shadolu with about a company of my fellow Marines
> watching my back. That leader of theirs is a serious freak job. I
> don't think he's human."
S.D.: He's not, he's Raul Julia!
> Ken grinned. "Hardly the attitude I'd expect from a big,
> tough Marine like you."
> "Hey, man, don't get me wrong: I eat nails for breakfast,
TBS <Apollo Creed>: N-n-n-nails!
??? <Charlie>: And crap nickels.
> but
> I'm not stupid. You're going up against a guy who can fly and read
> minds,
GAVOK <Charlie>: ...and can kill a yak from two hundred yards away...
WITH THE PSYCHO CRUSHER!!
> you better bring some seriously heavy weaponry to the table."
[Guys, I don't want to horribly plug and insert myself into a episode I'm not in, but...dude, they're deliberately *asking* for it here.]
> Gryphon nodded, the mention of Bison turning him grave and
> contemplative, if only for a moment.
??? <Space Butler>: Now I'm getting all sentimental for some reason.
> Then he reached to the end table
> and grabbed a notebook, clicking a pen into readiness.
> "OK, so, since I have to do a little unexpected shopping, are
> there any special topping requests? Nails for Charlie, any others?"
> Charlie laughed. "Hold the nails, I'm off duty."
> "No fish," said Ken. "Other than that, it doesn't really
> matter to me."
> "OK, that's one no nails, one no fish... " said Ben,
> exaggeratedly jotting on the notebook.
> The doorbell rang. Gryph looked up, blinking. "ANOTHER
> unexpected visitor?"
GAVOK: It's either Rufus T. Firefly or Captain Geoffrey Spaulding, I'm not sure.
> "Busy night," Charlie observed. "Do your neighbors know you
> fight?"
> "Most of the City of Worcester knows he fights,"
???: Most of them cheer on the other guy.
> I said with a
> grin. "He's quite the local celebrity."
> "Yeah, me and Jerry Harrison," he replied wryly, naming the
> weatherman at Worcester's only TV station, WORC Channel 66.
RACE: Y'know, if you have to explain all your wry local humor in excruciating detail, it's probably not worth including the joke in the first place.
> "Charlie,
> it's for you."
GAVOK <Charlie>: General Thundertrunks, what are you doing here?
> "Sir yes SIR!" Charlie replied, jumping up from the couch and
> doing his best Marine Hustle to the foyer.
THE LOONS <singing>: We're not here to start a tussle, we're just here to
do the Marine Hustle!
> "Hel-LO!" came his deep
> voice after the sound of the door being opened.
ARL: Sargeant Slaughter in a role that will surprise you.
> "Ben said it was for
> me, but I don't think I'm destined to be that lucky today."
> "Well," said Rose airily as she breezed past him into the
> living room,
MMK: Wow, she's a Jupiter Djinn.
> "if I ever find myself in the market again, I'll be sure
> to keep you in mind."
> "Rose!" chorused Gryphon and Ken, punctuated by a deep "Woof!"
S.D.: What's W4 doing there?
> from Fury that may well have meant the same thing in Dog.
MMK: Fools! Fury's ways are well beyond the comprehension of mortal men!
> "Boys," Rose replied, taking a seat on the red couch next to
> Ben.
ARL: [singing] Be my boys.
S.D.: [singing] I wanna feel your body....
>"You're having a busy evening," she remarked to him.
> "Yeah, it's a non-stop festival of surprises tonight." He
> held up his notebook. "What do you want on -your- pizza?"
TBS <Rose>: "Rest in Peace."
GAVOK: ... that joke doesn't really work backwards.
> "Oh, I'm in time for dinner, how fortunate," said Rose with a
> smile that said luck had little to do with it.
S.D.: Is pizza really this hard to get in Worcester?
TBS: I wonder if Bison ever uses his psychic powers to see if his
underlings are cooking dinner...
MMK: Probably. Bison strikes me as a huge moocher.
GAVOK: He just *reeks* of moochosity!
MMK: He's full of moochismo!
GAVOK: Yeah, he is!
> "Well, y'know, now that we've got more than four people, it's
> officially a prefight party," he replied.
RACE: Or an orgy. Whichever.
S.D.: Only in Texas, and that's if they took off their shoes and all did the same thing.
ARL: ...why do you know things like that?
S.D.: I plead the Fifth.
> The doorbell rang.
> "Egad!" said Gryphon.
ARL: It's Mr. Mustard in the Library with the candlestick!
> "It's for me," Rose observed, and she went to get the door as
> Ken and Charlie launched into a reminiscence of the first time Ken met
> Guile (barroom brawl, San Francisco, 1987, if you're curious).
RACE: Ah, so if we're going with Street Fighter 2 V as canon, does that mean Ken is a blatant homosexual in this?
> Gryph
> and I had heard it before, but we still got quite a laugh out of it.
> MZ
> I didn't pay much attention as Ben related his tale. I knew
> it all by now anyway, and he was leaving out a lot of the good bits.
> My mind was drifting on the topic of finding funds for Meg. I know
> what you're thinking: "Oh, slick. Win her heart with money." You
> should be ashamed. The money had nothing to do with it. I just hate
> seeing cool people get a raw deal, and if I can rectify that in some
> way, good. And while I felt like a nervous schoolboy hoping the
> object of his crush would give him the time of day, I wouldn't want
> anyone to like me because of what I did for them. If Meg was going to
> like me I wanted it to be because of me. Yeah, I tend to get myself
> into weird mental Mobius loops a lot.
> But while the personal matter was out of my control, the
> professional was not. Meg would have to decide on her own if that was
> what she wanted. I would never pressure anyone into a decision like
> that; it isn't fair. But if that is what she wanted, then I would do
> what I could to get it for her. And I was fairly confident that I
> could do it.
> She seemed to be doing what I had done. Going to school for
> music seems like a natural course for her, after all, but I could tell
> her heart wasn't really into it. I did the same thing. I loved
> aircraft, I loved to fly, and I had an aptitude for engineering; so it
> seemed natural to major in Aerospace Engineering. Except I found it
> bored me to tears. The hard part was realizing that in the first
> place. I thought it was me, that I just wasn't cut out for college.
> Once I wised up to the root of the problem and changed majors, I had a
> much better time and actually enjoyed what I was doing. Sure, so I
> ended up with a double major in Technical Writing and History. It
> isn't all that unusual for people to have careers in areas completely
> unrelated to their degrees. Besides, the History degree comes in
> handy at times on our trips.
> So I never got that aerospace degree. But I still loved
> aircraft. Aircraft? Something in the back of my mind was awakening.
> Wait, didn't the Bionic Six have a plane? What was it? I remember
> looking at it almost as much as (ok, more than, I'm a geek) Rock-1. I
> had a big poster of it, an "artist's interpretation", big white and
> red B-1-like plane chasing an F-4, and while I was mentally picturing
> that poster something in my mind went
> click.
> "Sky Dancer!"
> Having been interrupted by a seemingly unrelated exclamation,
> Ben looked understandably puzzled. Meg was momentarily startled, but
> recovered quickly.
> "What about it?"
> "Whatever happened to it?"
> "Beats me. Last I saw of it the government was taking it
> away. They pretty much cleaned out the SPL when they let us all go.
> They loaded Sky Dancer up with the Mule and the rest of our gear and
> flew it out. I haven't seen it since then. Why?" We had left Ben
> far behind; he had no clue what we were talking about. But he seemed
> comfortable, knowing he'd be sucked into it in the end - whatever it
> was.
> "Well, it seems a shame to let such a fine aircraft go to
> waste. Maybe we could find it. And if we find it we may find the
> rest of your gear."
>
> G
> Zoner had that gleam in his eyes that meant I was going to get
> sucked into this mess whether or not I wanted to. He had a mission,
> and by God nothing was going to stand in his way. When he got his
> teeth around the bit there was no stopping him. Besides, I didn't
> have anything on the agenda for the excruciatingly near future.
> Meg looked uncertain -- understandable, really. Zoner's plans
> always sound like harebrained schemes, mainly because they're
> harebrained schemes. We almost always manage to pull it together,
> though.
> Just about then the food arrived, effectively ending that
> branch of conversation. I could tell Zoner was still thinking about
> it, though; he always gets a bit distant when he's running a major
> background job.
> Instead of duplicating his effort, I mulled over what she had
> told me. Something about it was nagging at me, something had popped
> up a red flag in my memory, but I hadn't been able to pin down what it
> was. I ran through the story again in my head, and then lit on what
> had rung the mental bell.
> "Hey, Meg... did you say you had a brother named Bunji?"
> She blinked at me, then said, "Yeah. Like I said, he's in
> Hong Kong."
> "Is that short for 'Bunjiro'?"
> "Yeah, it is, why?"
> "Well, can you beat that? I know him. Well, I've -met- him,
> I know him to say 'hi' to."
> "Really? How'd you meet him?"
> "Last time I hit a tournament in Hong Kong he was there," I
> replied. "Not fighting, just watching. He hangs out with Fei Long,
> the kung fu champ." The last time I was in Hong Kong I fought Fei
> Long, and beat him narrowly, with about as much luck as skill; neither
> of us were World Warriors at the time, but he had trained even harder
> after that defeat and had reached the bracket six months before me.
> Zoner blinked. "Oh yeah! The guy who worked Fei Long's
> corner -was- named Bunjiro, wasn't he? I forgot all about it."
> Meg nodded. "Fei Long is helping Bunji get his movie career
> off the ground. He was a big action star before he started street
> fighting. I guess you could say he's Bunji's mentor."
> "Small world, isn't it?"
>
> Our meal over, we hit the awkward stage of the day: going our
> separate ways. Evening was hinting at the possibility that it might
> be considering the ramifications of starting to gather in the eastern
> sky, and Zoner and I were heading back to Worcester. Zoner gave Meg
> one of his cards; she took another from him, scribbled her number on
> the back of it and returned it, then waved off his offer of a lift
> back into town.
> "Driving in Boston with this landmass? I don't think so.
> We're right next to the station, I'll just take the T."
> "Well... if you're sure."
> "Relax, I ride the T all the time. I know a thing or two
> about self-defense," she said with a grin.
> Zoner chuckled. "OK," he said, "but be careful."
> "I will." She stepped up to Zoner and did her best to kiss
> his cheek. "Call me."
> "Count on it. And think about my offer," he added.
> "I will, seriously. Nice meeting you, too, Gryphon."
> "It was lovely meeting you, too, and I'm glad you're feeling
> much better," I said. "You're still very pale, though. You need more
> sun."
> "You're silly," she said. "I don't even play the cello.
> Bye!"
> It took me a moment to realize that she had not only parsed my
> reference but come around the back side of it, and by then, she was
> across the street and heading into the big gray bulk of the station,
> past the big silver disc with the 'T' knocked out of it they have
> standing out by the bus stops.
> "You know," I declared as I watched the glass doors close
> behind her, "I believe I like that girl."
> "Yeah," murmured Zoner absently.
>
> We drove home in relative silence; Zoner was still mulling
> over his offer to Meg, and for that matter, so was I. It had been a
> remarkably weird day, but, oddly enough, not our weirdest. When we
> got home, I took Fury for a romp in the park as a reward for staying
> home all day. Fascist hotel administrators, not allowing pets. Maybe
> I should feign blindness. With a bloodhound? Probably wouldn't
> work... them hotel administrators is smart.
> When we returned, panting and damp, an hour later, he was in
> the same position on the couch. It had gotten fully dark, but he had
> been too busy thinking to turn on any lights, so I did it before
> heading to the master bathroom for a shower. When I came back from
> that, wearing old sweats and scrubbing at my hair with a towel, he was
> still there, staring into space. Fury was sitting next to the couch,
> regarding him as one might regard a particularly intriguing piece of
> statuary, but he lost interest when I entered the room, deciding to
> curl up instead next to my armchair.
> I had been thinking about the same things as Zoner, so I
> figured it was time to offer my input.
> "Before you plan the sneak, we should figure out how we're
> going to cover our collective ass."
> He jumped. Apparently he hadn't realized I was sitting there.
> "Huh?" he said, his train of thought derailed.
> "I said," I repeated, "'Before you plan the sneak, we should
> figure out how we're going to cover our collective ass.'"
> He smiled. "You're in, then?"
> "If we do it right," I replied, leaning back and dropping a
> hand to scratch at Fury's ears. "I'm not interested in boosting
> expensive experimental stuff from the government and getting plastered
> all over the wanted lists, but if we can figure out a way to do it at
> least semi-official-like, I have no objection to rounding up some
> equipment and the like."
> "Yeah, that's the angle I've been trying to figure," Zoner
> admitted. "OSI is history and I don't think we can get them
> reinstated; espionage and enforcement have been completely taken out
> of DoD's hands. There are possibilities in the CIA, or maybe the NSA
> or the IMF, although deniabilty is real low when you've got a motif as
> distinctive as the Bionic Six, and now more than ever deniability is
> the name of the game."
> "MI-5 is too traditional and MI-6 is having budget problems as
> it is," I observed. "Maybe what we need to do is start a new agency.
> Independent contractors have been used for that kind of work before.
> I'm not talking about freelance operatives like us, who get hired from
> job to job like temp secretaries, I'm talking about whole third-party
> agencies who the Powers that Be work with 'cause they get the job
> done. The espionage equivalent of the difference between a lone
> bounty hunter and a well-organized merc army."
> "Isn't Spectrum like that?"
> "More or less. Right now Spectrum Intel - the Rainbow Group -
> is part of the UN Intel Taskforce under Lethbridge-Stuart, along with
> Cammy's group from MI-6 and some special operatives from Interpol.
> The big anti-Shadolu task force. SHIELD is still independent, though.
> So is International Rescue, come to think of it."
> "Should you even know about that UNIT thing?"
> "Don't see why not - I'm a reserve officer in Spectrum, lest
> you forget; I haven't been activated, but the last time I checked I
> still had Rainbow-level clearance. But before you ask, no, Cammy
> didn't tell me. The Brigadier did, oddly enough. He's probably going
> to push Spectrum to activate me so he can draft me one of these days,
> since I work along those same lines anyway in my spare time."
> "Nice work if you can get it." Zoner considered. "If we did
> that, we'd have to get recognition from a couple of the big national
> agencies before anyone would take our new group seriously."
> "Yeah," I agreed. "I can talk to Admiral Messervey, Colonel
> White and Nick Fury, but you'll have to deal with NSA and IMF. It's
> certainly feasible -- look at International Rescue. They go so far as
> to keep their identities secret, but they do good work, so nobody
> hassles them." I paused for a moment as a thought hit me. "Still, we
> have to keep in mind - we're never going to get anywhere without the
> cooperation of the CIA. You don't do anything in Western intel
> without at least the CIA's tacit approval."
> "Hmm... " Zoner sat back on the couch and lost himself in
> thought as we both pondered the big question: who did we know in the
> CIA who would go for something this wild, and be senior enough to make
> his support meaningful?
> Click.
> I looked up and saw Zoner looking up at me.
> "Jim Greer," we said together.
> "*3," I said as Zoner grabbed the phone and started searching
> the end table for the Filofax.
> "Thanks," said Zoner, punching the speed-dial code.
> "It's 9:30 on a Saturday night," I pointed out. "He's
> probably not going to be in."
> "You never know," said Zoner. "Hi, yes. My name is Martin
> Zorn, I'd like to speak to Admiral Greer if he's available. Yes, I'll
> hold." There was a somewhat lengthy pause. "Jim? Marty Zorn. Is this
> line secure? Got a few minutes?"
>
> MZ
> "Yes, it's secure. Do you have any idea what time it is?" Jim
> Greer growled at me as I switched him to the speaker phone.
> "9:30," I replied. "What's that got to do with anything? The
> Eyes of Democracy never close in sleep."
> "True," Greer admitted gruffly, then relented. "All right, go
> ahead. I was just going over some old files and materials reqs
> anyway. What's on your mind?"
> "Can you pull your file on the Office of Scientific
> Intelligence, used to be part of DoD? They got shut down by the Bush
> administration in '91."
> "OSI? What do you want to know about them?" demanded
> Greer, a suspicious note creeping into his voice.
> "Not much, just the disposition of some of their personnel and
> equipment."
> "Damn it, Zoner, this isn't my lunch order you're asking for,
> you know."
> "I'm well aware of that, Admiral. That's why I called you."
> "You're up to something, aren't you." It wasn't a question.
> "You know us, Jim," Ben interjected. "Always thinking of ways
> to help our fellow human beings. Listen, when Bush shut down OSI a
> bunch of good people got screwed. We're working on an angle to help
> them out, make it up to them a little, and we thought maybe you could
> give us a hand."
> There was a pause.
> "This is the United States Government you're talking about,"
> said Greer at length. "We don't -do- that sort of thing."
> "Oh, come on, Jim," I said. "You remember what you told me
> and Ryan back during that mess with the IRA? Sometimes you've got to
> forget about the procedures and do the Right Thing. Look, just pull
> the files and read 'em, and you'll see what I mean. Read the files
> and then decide, OK?"
> "OK," Greer agreed. "But no promises!"
> "Got a pen?"
> "I'm sitting at my desk, pen in hand, just waiting for you to
> call and give me more work to do."
> "Eternal vigilance," said Gryph, "is the price of liberty."
> "Give me the names," said Greer.
> "OK. Goldman, Oscar. G-O-L-D-M-A-N, just like it sounds.
> Used to be the Director of OSI."
> "Mm hmm."
> "Wells, Dr. Rudy, probably short for Rudolph."
> "Rudy Wells the cyberneticist?"
> "The same. I take it you've heard of him."
> "He did some prosthetics work for the Air Force back in the
> seventies. Nothing ever came of it, as I recall."
> I shot Ben a bemused glance. "Sharp, Dr. Amadeus, that's
> A-M-A-D-E-U-S."
> "Him I've never heard of. Anyone else?"
> "Yes. Six more, all with the same last name, Bennett.
> B-E-N-N-E-T-T. Jack, probably a nickname for John; Helen; Eric; J.D.,
> I don't know what it stands for; Bunjiro; and... " It occurred to me
> that I didn't know if 'Meg' was short for something else. Probably.
> "... and Meg, probably short for Margaret or Megan or some such."
> There was a long pause and the sound of a pen scratching on
> paper.
> "OK," said Greer. "I'll pull the files, I'll look them over,
> and then if I'm interested I'll call you and we'll talk about your
> plans. Fair enough?"
> "More than fair," I replied. "Talk to you soon."
> When I hung up, I noticed Gryph was looking thoughtful again;
> presently, he said, "You know, we should probably consider the
> possibility that we're not going to be able to recruit the rest of
> them. From what Meg was telling us, it sounds to me like her brothers
> have their own lives, and it wouldn't surprise me if her parents were
> enjoying their retirement."
> I shrugged. The thought had occurred to me, but what could I
> do about it either way? Not much.
> Wait.
> Jack Bennett.
> My brain did another of those tickle things. I knew that
> name. Where did I know that name from? Argh! I'm terrible with
> names.
> The next two hours crawled past. I refrained from biting my
> nails, and watched some show about war on the Discovery Channel ("All
> Hitler, all the time"). Gryph, the picture of unconcern, sprawled on
> the other couch reading his book. In his head he was probably
> composing his pitch to Colonel White.
> The phone rang. I think I may have picked it up before the
> bell actually started ringing.
> "Jim Greer," said that unmistakable voice. "Where did you get
> this list of people? Those last six are especially interesting, in a
> you-shouldn't-know-about-them sort of way."
> "Oh, come on, Jim, you're not going to start splitting
> clearances -now-, are you?"
> Greer made an irritated rumbling noise, then relented. "All
> right, I'm assuming you know that the Bennett family used to be
> special operatives."
> "Yes, I know about the Bionic Six."
> "OK, then. Are you going to tell me what you're up to?"
> "I know Meg, aka Rock-1, and she isn't dealing with the whole
> 'back to a normal life' thing very well. She didn't have anything to
> fall back on; I'm worried about her."
> "And?"
> "Well, I want to help her out."
> "And?"
> "OK, I was thinking of setting up a front agency for her to
> work for, get some of their gear back, find out what the good doctors
> are up to, etc., etc."
> Greer sighed. "You can't leave well enough alone, can you."
> "Not when good people get screwed. I'd rather do this without
> having to watch my back the whole time, but either way... So, can you
> help?"
> He took on a cautious tone. "What do you need from me?"
> "First, I need you to stay out of it. I don't want the CIA to
> shut this operation down. The way I look at it, it isn't a threat and
> it may turn into a valuable resource."
> "OK."
> "Second, I'll need to know the locations of the good doctors
> Wells and Sharp, and any remaining equipment."
> "Your secured fax still the same?"
> "Yes, and the scrambler code is up to date as of last
> Thursday."
> "All right, you'll have that data shortly. And you didn't get
> it from me, you hear? When you're done with it, burn it."
> "Loud and clear, roger wilco. One more thing."
> "Naturally. What would it be?" He had that 'uh-oh' tone in
> his voice.
> "If you get other agencies poking around about this, can you
> deflect them for us?"
> "Ohh, no," said Greer in his 'now that's going too far' tone.
> "The Company is not going to get burned on this one. I'll do what I
> can, but if they catch on, your on you're own. Understand?"
> "Completely."
> "Mr. Hutchins?"
> "Yeah?" Ben replied.
> "Do -you- understand?"
> "I just go where Zoner tells me to and hit the people that
> have to be hit, Jim. Hired muscle with no opinions."
> "Try to be serious, if only for a moment, will you?" came
> Greer's voice, weary-sounding.
> "If you insist. Yes, I understand. Skirting the corners of
> national security is always a chancy business. If we screw up, you'll
> throw us to the wolves. All right?"
> "Good enough. Gentlemen?"
> "Yes?" we chimed.
> "Good luck."
> "Thanks." And with that the connection dropped. The fax
> beeped almost immediately.
> "Well, I guess we should start making some calls."
> "Why don't we wait until morning," said Ben. "I hardly think
> anyone will be very favorable at, close to midnight on a Saturday.
> Let alone the Brits - it's what, 5 AM there? I can never remember if
> they do daylight savings time. At any rate, M. might be up, but I
> doubt he wants to talk shop that early in the morning."
> "Yeah, you're right. (They do.) Ah, it'll give us more time
> to go over this data anyway. Here, this is the stuff on the
> scientists... why don't you talk to them tomorrow. I'll see what I
> can do about the equipment. And, of course, we'll have to talk to a
> few agencies. I'll see what I can do on their systems. If we're
> lucky we'll have all of them thinking the others are behind it."
> "Yeah, and if we're not they'll all be looking at us."
> "Ah, you have to have the right attitude."
> Ben just glared at me.
> "I'm about to violate the National Security Act and who knows
> what other important laws so you can impress some chick you met at a
> music festival, and you're talking about 'the right attitude'."
> I shrugged.
> "Well, fine," he said, getting up. "I'm going to bed.
> There's no sense violating Federal law without sufficient rest."
> MZ
> I didn't pay much attention as Ben related his tale. I knew
> it all by now anyway, and he was leaving out a lot of the good bits.
ARL <Zoner>: But that's what the DVD is for.
> My mind was drifting on the topic of finding funds for Meg. I know
> what you're thinking:
MMK <Zoner>: 10 CDs for a dollar? No way!
> "Oh, slick. Win her heart with money." You
> should be ashamed. The money had nothing to do with it. I just hate
> seeing cool people get a raw deal, and if I can rectify that in some
> way, good. And while I felt like a nervous schoolboy hoping the
> object of his crush would give him the time of day, I wouldn't want
> anyone to like me because of what I did for them. If Meg was going to
> like me I wanted it to be because of me. Yeah, I tend to get myself
> into weird mental Mobius loops a lot.
> But while the personal matter was out of my control, the
> professional was not. Meg would have to decide on her own if that was
> what she wanted. I would never pressure anyone into a decision like
> that; it isn't fair. But if that is what she wanted, then I would do
> what I could to get it for her.
GAVOK <Zoner>: So I would walk five hundred miles. And I would walk five hundred more. Just to be the man who'd walk a thousand miles and fall down at that door.
> And I was fairly confident that I
> could do it.
> She seemed to be doing what I had done.
TBS: She was getting a tattoo of Spongebob Squarepants on her backside.
> Going to school for
> music seems like a natural course for her, after all, but I could tell
> her heart wasn't really into it. I did the same thing. I loved
> aircraft, I loved to fly, and I had an aptitude for engineering; so it
> seemed natural to major in Aerospace Engineering. Except I found it
> bored me to tears. The hard part was realizing that in the first
> place. I thought it was me, that I just wasn't cut out for college.
> Once I wised up to the root of the problem and changed majors, I had a
> much better time and actually enjoyed what I was doing. Sure, so I
> ended up with a double major in Technical Writing and History. It
> isn't all that unusual for people to have careers in areas completely
> unrelated to their degrees.
RACE <Ryu>: I swear by my computer programming degree that I will become the greatest fighter ever!
> Besides, the History degree comes in
> handy at times on our trips.
GAVOK: Ah. Zoner hangs out with Peabody.
> So I never got that aerospace degree. But I still loved
> aircraft. Aircraft? Something in the back of my mind was awakening.
TBS <Zoner>: It was late for work and had a breakfast burrito.
> Wait, didn't the Bionic Six have a plane? What was it? I remember
> looking at it almost as much as (ok, more than, I'm a geek) Rock-1. I
> had a big poster of it, an "artist's interpretation", big white and
> red B-1-like plane chasing an F-4, and while I was mentally picturing
> that poster something in my mind went
> click.
> "Sky Dancer!"
> Having been interrupted by a seemingly unrelated exclamation,
> Ben looked understandably puzzled. Meg was momentarily startled, but
> recovered quickly.
> "What about it?"
> "Whatever happened to it?"
> "Beats me. Last I saw of it the government was taking it
> away.
S.D. <Meg>: They say it knew too much.
> They pretty much cleaned out the SPL when they let us all go.
> They loaded Sky Dancer up with the Mule and the rest of our gear and
> flew it out. I haven't seen it since then. Why?" We had left Ben
> far behind; he had no clue what we were talking about. But he seemed
> comfortable, knowing he'd be sucked into it in the end - whatever it
> was.
GAVOK <Ben>: What's the Sky Dancer?
MMK <Zoner>: Goddammit, Ben! Not everything begins and ends when you say it does! You're out of your element!
SD <Meg>: So anyway...
GAVOK <Ben>: I am the Walrus.
MMK <Zoner>: Shut the fuck up, Ben! You're out of your element!
SD <Meg>: Fuck it. Let's bowl.
> "Well, it seems a shame to let such a fine aircraft go to
> waste. Maybe we could find it. And if we find it we may find the
> rest of your gear."
>
> G
> Zoner had that gleam in his eyes that meant I was going to get
> sucked into this mess whether or not I wanted to. He had a mission,
> and by God nothing was going to stand in his way.
RACE <Zoner>: I'M UNSTOPPABLE!
> When he got his
> teeth around the bit there was no stopping him.
MMK <Zoner>: This Proton Energy Pill gives me the power of 10 atom bombs in 10 seconds!
> Besides, I didn't
> have anything on the agenda for the excruciatingly near future.
> Meg looked uncertain -- understandable, really. Zoner's plans
> always sound like harebrained schemes, mainly because they're
> harebrained schemes. We almost always manage to pull it together,
> though.
> Just about then the food arrived, effectively ending that
> branch of conversation. I could tell Zoner was still thinking about
> it, though; he always gets a bit distant when he's running a major
> background job.
> Instead of duplicating his effort, I mulled over what she had
> told me. Something about it was nagging at me, something had popped
> up a red flag in my memory, but I hadn't been able to pin down what it
> was. I ran through the story again in my head, and then lit on what
> had rung the mental bell.
> "Hey, Meg... did you say you had a brother named Bunji?"
> She blinked at me, then said, "Yeah. Like I said, he's in
> Hong Kong."
> "Is that short for 'Bunjiro'?"
> "Yeah, it is, why?"
> "Well, can you beat that? I know him.
ARL <Zoner>: I met Burt Ward at a gas station.
TBS <Ben>: Damn!
> Well, I've -met- him,
> I know him to say 'hi' to."
> "Really? How'd you meet him?"
GAVOK <Ben>: We played Russian Roulette together.
> "Last time I hit a tournament in Hong Kong he was there," I
> replied. "Not fighting, just watching. He hangs out with Fei Long,
> the kung fu champ." The last time I was in Hong Kong I fought Fei
> Long, and beat him narrowly, with about as much luck as skill; neither
> of us were World Warriors at the time, but he had trained even harder
> after that defeat and had reached the bracket six months before me.
> Zoner blinked. "Oh yeah! The guy who worked Fei Long's
> corner -was- named Bunjiro, wasn't he? I forgot all about it."
> Meg nodded. "Fei Long is helping Bunji get his movie career
> off the ground.
MMK <Norm MacDonald>: Hey, I know what it's called! Box Office Poison!
> He was a big action star before he started street
> fighting. I guess you could say he's Bunji's mentor."
> "Small world, isn't it?"
>
> Our meal over, we hit the awkward stage of the day:
RACE <Ben>: For some reason we agreed that we'd bathe together once every day.
> going our
> separate ways. Evening was hinting at the possibility that it might
> be considering the ramifications of starting to gather in the eastern
> sky, and Zoner and I were heading back to Worcester. Zoner gave Meg
> one of his cards;
SD <Meg>: "How to play Black Jack"?
> she took another from him, scribbled her number on
> the back of it and returned it, then waved off his offer of a lift
> back into town.
> "Driving in Boston with this landmass? I don't think so.
> We're right next to the station, I'll just take the T."
> "Well... if you're sure."
> "Relax, I ride the T all the time. I know a thing or two
> about self-defense," she said with a grin.
> Zoner chuckled. "OK," he said, "but be careful."
> "I will." She stepped up to Zoner and did her best to kiss
> his cheek. "Call me."
> "Count on it. And think about my offer," he added.
> "I will, seriously. Nice meeting you, too, Gryphon."
> "It was lovely meeting you, too, and I'm glad you're feeling
> much better," I said. "You're still very pale, though. You need more
> sun."
> "You're silly," she said. "I don't even play the cello.
RACE <Zoner>: Uh, what? I said, "You're still very pale, though! You need more sun!"
> Bye!"
> It took me a moment to realize that she had not only parsed my
> reference but come around the back side of it, and by then, she was
> across the street and heading into the big gray bulk of the station,
> past the big silver disc with the 'T' knocked out of it they have
> standing out by the bus stops.
> "You know," I declared as I watched the glass doors close
> behind her, "I believe I like that girl."
> "Yeah," murmured Zoner absently.
>
> We drove home in relative silence; Zoner was still mulling
> over his offer to Meg, and for that matter, so was I. It had been a
> remarkably weird day, but, oddly enough, not our weirdest. When we
> got home, I took Fury for a romp in the park as a reward for staying
> home all day. Fascist hotel administrators, not allowing pets. Maybe
> I should feign blindness. With a bloodhound? Probably wouldn't
> work... them hotel administrators is smart.
> When we returned, panting and damp, an hour later, he was in
> the same position on the couch. It had gotten fully dark, but he had
> been too busy thinking to turn on any lights, so I did it before
> heading to the master bathroom for a shower. When I came back from
> that, wearing old sweats and scrubbing at my hair with a towel, he was
> still there, staring into space. Fury was sitting next to the couch,
> regarding him as one might regard a particularly intriguing piece of
> statuary, but he lost interest when I entered the room, deciding to
> curl up instead next to my armchair.
> I had been thinking about the same things as Zoner, so I
> figured it was time to offer my input.
> "Before you plan the sneak, we should figure out how we're
> going to cover our collective ass."
> He jumped. Apparently he hadn't realized I was sitting there.
> "Huh?" he said, his train of thought derailed.
> "I said," I repeated, "'Before you plan the sneak, we should
> figure out how we're going to cover our collective ass.'"
> He smiled. "You're in, then?"
> "If we do it right," I replied, leaning back and dropping a
> hand to scratch at Fury's ears. "I'm not interested in boosting
> expensive experimental stuff from the government and getting plastered
> all over the wanted lists, but if we can figure out a way to do it at
> least semi-official-like, I have no objection to rounding up some
> equipment and the like."
> "Yeah, that's the angle I've been trying to figure," Zoner
> admitted. "OSI is history and I don't think we can get them
> reinstated; espionage and enforcement have been completely taken out
> of DoD's hands. There are possibilities in the CIA, or maybe the NSA
> or the IMF, although deniabilty is real low when you've got a motif as
> distinctive as the Bionic Six, and now more than ever deniability is
> the name of the game."
MMK: Deniability! By Milton Bradley!
> "MI-5 is too traditional and MI-6 is having budget problems as
> it is," I observed. "Maybe what we need to do is start a new agency.
GAVOK: The Men in Plaid.
> Independent contractors have been used for that kind of work before.
> I'm not talking about freelance operatives like us, who get hired from
> job to job like temp secretaries, I'm talking about whole third-party
> agencies who the Powers that Be work with 'cause they get the job
> done. The espionage equivalent of the difference between a lone
> bounty hunter and a well-organized merc army."
> "Isn't Spectrum like that?"
> "More or less. Right now Spectrum Intel - the Rainbow Group -
> is part of the UN Intel Taskforce under Lethbridge-Stuart, along with
> Cammy's group from MI-6 and some special operatives from Interpol.
> The big anti-Shadolu task force. SHIELD is still independent, though.
> So is International Rescue, come to think of it."
> "Should you even know about that UNIT thing?"
> "Don't see why not - I'm a reserve officer in Spectrum, lest
> you forget; I haven't been activated, but the last time I checked I
> still had Rainbow-level clearance. But before you ask, no, Cammy
> didn't tell me. The Brigadier did, oddly enough. He's probably going
> to push Spectrum to activate me so he can draft me one of these days,
> since I work along those same lines anyway in my spare time."
> "Nice work if you can get it." Zoner considered. "If we did
> that, we'd have to get recognition from a couple of the big national
> agencies before anyone would take our new group seriously."
> "Yeah," I agreed. "I can talk to Admiral Messervey, Colonel
> White and Nick Fury, but you'll have to deal with NSA and IMF. It's
> certainly feasible -- look at International Rescue. They go so far as
> to keep their identities secret, but they do good work, so nobody
> hassles them." I paused for a moment as a thought hit me. "Still, we
> have to keep in mind - we're never going to get anywhere without the
> cooperation of the CIA. You don't do anything in Western intel
> without at least the CIA's tacit approval."
> "Hmm... " Zoner sat back on the couch and lost himself in
> thought as we both pondered the big question:
GAVOK: Who in their right mind would want to buy a ticket to see Like Mike?
> who did we know in the
> CIA who would go for something this wild, and be senior enough to make
> his support meaningful?
MMK: The answer is, you guessed it, Frank Stallone.
> Click.
> I looked up and saw Zoner looking up at me.
> "Jim Greer," we said together.
> "*3," I said as Zoner grabbed the phone and started searching
> the end table for the Filofax.
> "Thanks," said Zoner, punching the speed-dial code.
> "It's 9:30 on a Saturday night," I pointed out. "He's
> probably not going to be in."
> "You never know," said Zoner. "Hi, yes. My name is Martin
> Zorn, I'd like to speak to Admiral Greer if he's available.
SD <secretary>: I'm sorry, he's married.
> Yes, I'll
> hold." There was a somewhat lengthy pause. "Jim? Marty Zorn. Is this
> line secure? Got a few minutes?"
>
> MZ
> "Yes, it's secure. Do you have any idea what time it is?" Jim
> Greer growled at me as I switched him to the speaker phone.
> "9:30," I replied. "What's that got to do with anything? The
> Eyes of Democracy never close in sleep."
> "True," Greer admitted gruffly, then relented. "All right, go
> ahead. I was just going over some old files and materials reqs
> anyway. What's on your mind?"
GAVOK <Zoner>: They call them "fingers" but I've never seen them "fing".
> "Can you pull your file on the Office of Scientific
> Intelligence, used to be part of DoD? They got shut down by the Bush
> administration in '91."
> "OSI? What do you want to know about them?" demanded
> Greer, a suspicious note creeping into his voice.
> "Not much, just the disposition of some of their personnel and
> equipment."
> "Damn it, Zoner, this isn't my lunch order you're asking for,
> you know."
> "I'm well aware of that, Admiral. That's why I called you."
> "You're up to something, aren't you." It wasn't a question.
> "You know us, Jim," Ben interjected. "Always thinking of ways
> to help our fellow human beings. Listen, when Bush shut down OSI a
> bunch of good people got screwed. We're working on an angle to help
> them out, make it up to them a little, and we thought maybe you could
> give us a hand."
MMK <Ben>: We want you to feud with them until losing a cage match at the PPV and putting them over.
> There was a pause.
> "This is the United States Government you're talking about,"
> said Greer at length. "We don't -do- that sort of thing."
> "Oh, come on, Jim," I said. "You remember what you told me
> and Ryan back during that mess with the IRA? Sometimes you've got to
> forget about the procedures and do the Right Thing. Look, just pull
> the files and read 'em, and you'll see what I mean. Read the files
> and then decide, OK?"
> "OK," Greer agreed. "But no promises!"
> "Got a pen?"
ARL <Greer>: That's classified!
> "I'm sitting at my desk, pen in hand, just waiting for you to
> call and give me more work to do."
> "Eternal vigilance," said Gryph, "is the price of liberty."
> "Give me the names," said Greer.
> "OK. Goldman, Oscar. G-O-L-D-M-A-N, just like it sounds.
> Used to be the Director of OSI."
> "Mm hmm."
> "Wells, Dr. Rudy, probably short for Rudolph."
> "Rudy Wells the cyberneticist?"
> "The same. I take it you've heard of him."
> "He did some prosthetics work for the Air Force back in the
> seventies. Nothing ever came of it, as I recall."
> I shot Ben a bemused glance. "Sharp, Dr. Amadeus, that's
> A-M-A-D-E-U-S."
GAVOK: R-O-C-K M-E!
> "Him I've never heard of. Anyone else?"
> "Yes. Six more, all with the same last name, Bennett.
> B-E-N-N-E-T-T. Jack, probably a nickname for John; Helen; Eric; J.D.,
> I don't know what it stands for; Bunjiro; and... " It occurred to me
> that I didn't know if 'Meg' was short for something else. Probably.
> "... and Meg, probably short for Margaret or Megan or some such."
> There was a long pause and the sound of a pen scratching on
> paper.
> "OK," said Greer. "I'll pull the files, I'll look them over,
> and then if I'm interested I'll call you and we'll talk about your
> plans. Fair enough?"
> "More than fair," I replied. "Talk to you soon."
> When I hung up, I noticed Gryph was looking thoughtful again;
> presently, he said, "You know, we should probably consider the
> possibility that we're not going to be able to recruit the rest of
> them. From what Meg was telling us, it sounds to me like her brothers
> have their own lives, and it wouldn't surprise me if her parents were
> enjoying their retirement."
> I shrugged. The thought had occurred to me, but what could I
> do about it either way? Not much.
> Wait.
> Jack Bennett.
> My brain did another of those tickle things. I knew that
> name. Where did I know that name from? Argh! I'm terrible with
> names.
> The next two hours crawled past. I refrained from biting my
> nails, and watched some show about war on the Discovery Channel ("All
> Hitler, all the time"). Gryph, the picture of unconcern, sprawled on
> the other couch reading his book. In his head he was probably
> composing his pitch to Colonel White.
> The phone rang. I think I may have picked it up before the
> bell actually started ringing.
> "Jim Greer," said that unmistakable voice. "Where did you get
> this list of people? Those last six are especially interesting, in a
> you-shouldn't-know-about-them sort of way."
> "Oh, come on, Jim, you're not going to start splitting
> clearances -now-, are you?"
> Greer made an irritated rumbling noise, then relented. "All
> right, I'm assuming you know that the Bennett family used to be
> special operatives."
> "Yes, I know about the Bionic Six."
> "OK, then. Are you going to tell me what you're up to?"
> "I know Meg, aka Rock-1, and she isn't dealing with the whole
> 'back to a normal life' thing very well. She didn't have anything to
> fall back on; I'm worried about her."
> "And?"
> "Well, I want to help her out."
> "And?"
> "OK, I was thinking of setting up a front agency for her to
> work for, get some of their gear back, find out what the good doctors
> are up to, etc., etc."
> Greer sighed. "You can't leave well enough alone, can you."
> "Not when good people get screwed. I'd rather do this without
> having to watch my back the whole time, but either way... So, can you
> help?"
> He took on a cautious tone. "What do you need from me?"
> "First, I need you to stay out of it. I don't want the CIA to
> shut this operation down. The way I look at it, it isn't a threat and
> it may turn into a valuable resource."
> "OK."
> "Second, I'll need to know the locations of the good doctors
> Wells and Sharp, and any remaining equipment."
> "Your secured fax still the same?"
> "Yes, and the scrambler code is up to date as of last
> Thursday."
> "All right, you'll have that data shortly. And you didn't get
> it from me, you hear? When you're done with it, burn it."
> "Loud and clear, roger wilco. One more thing."
> "Naturally. What would it be?" He had that 'uh-oh' tone in
> his voice.
SD <Greer>: He knows I killed Hoffa, doesn't he.
> "If you get other agencies poking around about this, can you
> deflect them for us?"
> "Ohh, no," said Greer in his 'now that's going too far' tone.
> "The Company is not going to get burned on this one. I'll do what I
> can, but if they catch on, your on you're own. Understand?"
> "Completely."
> "Mr. Hutchins?"
> "Yeah?" Ben replied.
> "Do -you- understand?"
MMK: The part of Greer will be played by Benimaru.
> "I just go where Zoner tells me to and hit the people that
> have to be hit, Jim. Hired muscle with no opinions."
> "Try to be serious, if only for a moment, will you?" came
> Greer's voice, weary-sounding.
> "If you insist. Yes, I understand. Skirting the corners of
> national security is always a chancy business. If we screw up, you'll
> throw us to the wolves. All right?"
> "Good enough. Gentlemen?"
> "Yes?" we chimed.
> "Good luck."
> "Thanks." And with that the connection dropped. The fax
> beeped almost immediately.
> "Well, I guess we should start making some calls."
> "Why don't we wait until morning," said Ben. "I hardly think
> anyone will be very favorable at, close to midnight on a Saturday.
> Let alone the Brits - it's what, 5 AM there? I can never remember if
> they do daylight savings time. At any rate, M. might be up, but I
> doubt he wants to talk shop that early in the morning."
> "Yeah, you're right. (They do.) Ah, it'll give us more time
> to go over this data anyway. Here, this is the stuff on the
> scientists... why don't you talk to them tomorrow. I'll see what I
> can do about the equipment. And, of course, we'll have to talk to a
> few agencies. I'll see what I can do on their systems. If we're
> lucky we'll have all of them thinking the others are behind it."
> "Yeah, and if we're not they'll all be looking at us."
> "Ah, you have to have the right attitude."
> Ben just glared at me.
> "I'm about to violate the National Security Act and who knows
> what other important laws so you can impress some chick you met at a
> music festival, and you're talking about 'the right attitude'."
> I shrugged.
> "Well, fine," he said, getting up. "I'm going to bed.
> There's no sense violating Federal law without sufficient rest."
> MZ
> I didn't pay much attention as Ben related his tale. I knew
> it all by now anyway, and he was leaving out a lot of the good bits.
ARL <Zoner>: But that's what the DVD is for.
> My mind was drifting on the topic of finding funds for Meg.
S.D.: Oh, slick. Win her heart with money.
> I know
> what you're thinking:
MMK <Zoner>: 10 CDs for a dollar? No way!
> "Oh, slick. Win her heart with money." You
> should be ashamed.
S.D.: Don't you *dare* put me on a guilt trip, Zoner!
ARL: He can't hear you, Shady.
S.D.: Look, just... don't start with me, alright?
> The money had nothing to do with it. I just hate
> seeing cool people get a raw deal, and if I can rectify that in some
> way, good. And while I felt like a nervous schoolboy hoping the
> object of his crush would give him the time of day, I wouldn't want
> anyone to like me because of what I did for them. If Meg was going to
> like me I wanted it to be because of me. Yeah, I tend to get myself
> into weird mental Mobius loops a lot.
TBS: Then he has to run around really fast and get a bunch of emeralds together to stop a really fat guy from taking over a world populated entirely by furries.
> But while the personal matter was out of my control, the
> professional was not. Meg would have to decide on her own if that was
> what she wanted. I would never pressure anyone into a decision like
> that; it isn't fair. But if that is what she wanted, then I would do
> what I could to get it for her.
GAVOK <Zoner>: So I would walk five hundred miles. And I would walk five hundred more. Just to be the man who'd walk a thousand miles and fall down at that door.
> And I was fairly confident that I
> could do it.
RACE <Zoner>: I'm smart enough, I'm strong enough, and doggone it, people like me!
> She seemed to be doing what I had done.
TBS: She was getting a tattoo of Spongebob Squarepants on her backside.
> Going to school for
> music seems like a natural course for her, after all, but I could tell
> her heart wasn't really into it. I did the same thing. I loved
> aircraft, I loved to fly, and I had an aptitude for engineering;
S.D.: He had a spanner, a nailgun, some EMP grenades...
GAVOK: ...and karma.
> so it
> seemed natural to major in Aerospace Engineering. Except I found it
> bored me to tears. The hard part was realizing that in the first
> place. I thought it was me, that I just wasn't cut out for college.
> Once I wised up to the root of the problem and changed majors, I had a
> much better time and actually enjoyed what I was doing. Sure, so I
> ended up with a double major in Technical Writing and History. It
> isn't all that unusual for people to have careers in areas completely
> unrelated to their degrees.
RACE <Ryu>: I swear by my computer programming degree that I will become the greatest fighter ever!
> Besides, the History degree comes in
> handy at times on our trips.
GAVOK: Ah. Zoner hangs out with Peabody.
S.D. <Zoner>: Hey Gryph, do you realize that wall you're smashing that mook's head into was constructed in the sixteenth centry to defend against-
ARL <Gryphon>: Not *now*, Zoner...
> So I never got that aerospace degree. But I still loved
> aircraft. Aircraft? Something in the back of my mind was awakening.
TBS <Zoner>: It was late for work and had a breakfast burrito.
> Wait, didn't the Bionic Six have a plane? What was it? I remember
> looking at it almost as much as (ok, more than, I'm a geek) Rock-1. I
> had a big poster of it, an "artist's interpretation", big white and
> red B-1-like plane chasing an F-4, and while I was mentally picturing
> that poster something in my mind went
> click.
GAVOK <John Cleese>: Ah, I see Zoner has a mind that goes "click!"
> "Sky Dancer!"
> Having been interrupted by a seemingly unrelated exclamation,
> Ben looked understandably puzzled. Meg was momentarily startled, but
> recovered quickly.
> "What about it?"
> "Whatever happened to it?"
> "Beats me. Last I saw of it the government was taking it
> away.
S.D. <Meg>: They say it knew too much.
MMK <singing, nasally>: Take it awaaay, 'cause it just don't wanna stay, and the lies you make it saaay are gettin' deeper every day...
> They pretty much cleaned out the SPL when they let us all go.
> They loaded Sky Dancer up with the Mule and the rest of our gear and
> flew it out. I haven't seen it since then. Why?" We had left Ben
> far behind; he had no clue what we were talking about. But he seemed
> comfortable, knowing he'd be sucked into it in the end - whatever it
> was.
GAVOK <Ben>: What's the Sky Dancer?
MMK <Zoner>: Goddammit, Ben! Not everything begins and ends when you say it does! You're out of your element!
SD <Meg>: So anyway...
GAVOK <Ben>: I am the Walrus.
MMK <Zoner>: Shut the fuck up, Ben! You're out of your element!
SD <Meg>: Fuck it. Let's bowl.
> "Well, it seems a shame to let such a fine aircraft go to
> waste. Maybe we could find it. And if we find it we may find the
> rest of your gear."
SD: ...then you can fix it nanomachines and drive it around between the half-hour long shots of the main characters sitting in the spotlight.
[This may be far too bitter... -RoP]
>
> G
> Zoner had that gleam in his eyes that meant I was going to get
> sucked into this mess whether or not I wanted to. He had a mission,
> and by God nothing was going to stand in his way.
RACE <Zoner>: I'M UNSTOPPABLE!
> When he got his
> teeth around the bit there was no stopping him.
MMK <Zoner>: This Proton Energy Pill gives me the power of 10 atom bombs in 10 seconds!
> Besides, I didn't
> have anything on the agenda for the excruciatingly near future.
ARL <Gryphon>: Wait, Iron Chef is on... DAMN it!
> Meg looked uncertain -- understandable, really. Zoner's plans
> always sound like harebrained schemes, mainly because they're
> harebrained schemes. We almost always manage to pull it together,
> though.
> Just about then the food arrived, effectively ending that
> branch of conversation. I could tell Zoner was still thinking about
> it, though; he always gets a bit distant when he's running a major
> background job.
TBS: He might need more RAM.
RACE: Believe me, with Meg in the story, Zoner's going to get all the RAM he needs...
> Instead of duplicating his effort, I mulled over what she had
> told me. Something about it was nagging at me, something had popped
> up a red flag in my memory, but I hadn't been able to pin down what it
> was. I ran through the story again in my head, and then lit on what
> had rung the mental bell.
> "Hey, Meg... did you say you had a brother named Bunji?"
> She blinked at me, then said, "Yeah. Like I said, he's in
> Hong Kong."
> "Is that short for 'Bunjiro'?"
> "Yeah, it is, why?"
> "Well, can you beat that? I know him.
ARL <Zoner>: I met Burt Ward at a gas station.
TBS <Ben>: Damn!
> Well, I've -met- him,
> I know him to say 'hi' to."
> "Really? How'd you meet him?"
GAVOK <Ben>: We played Russian Roulette together.
> "Last time I hit a tournament in Hong Kong he was there," I
> replied. "Not fighting, just watching. He hangs out with Fei Long,
> the kung fu champ." The last time I was in Hong Kong I fought Fei
> Long, and beat him narrowly, with about as much luck as skill; neither
> of us were World Warriors at the time, but he had trained even harder
> after that defeat and had reached the bracket six months before me.
> Zoner blinked. "Oh yeah! The guy who worked Fei Long's
> corner -was- named Bunjiro, wasn't he? I forgot all about it."
> Meg nodded. "Fei Long is helping Bunji get his movie career
> off the ground.
MMK <Norm MacDonald>: Hey, I know what it's called! Box Office Poison!
> He was a big action star before he started street
> fighting. I guess you could say he's Bunji's mentor."
> "Small world, isn't it?"
>
> Our meal over, we hit the awkward stage of the day:
RACE <Ben>: For some reason we agreed that we'd bathe together once every day.
> going our
> separate ways. Evening was hinting at the possibility that it might
> be considering the ramifications of starting to gather in the eastern
> sky, and Zoner and I were heading back to Worcester. Zoner gave Meg
> one of his cards;
SD <Meg>: "How to play Black Jack"?
> she took another from him, scribbled her number on
> the back of it and returned it,
ARL <Zoner>: 212-479-7990? You've got the same number as the last girl I met...
> then waved off his offer of a lift
> back into town.
> "Driving in Boston with this landmass? I don't think so.
> We're right next to the station, I'll just take the T."
> "Well... if you're sure."
> "Relax, I ride the T all the time. I know a thing or two
> about self-defense," she said with a grin.
SD: She knows Jeet Kun Do, Tae Bo, Muei Thai and seventeen other names of martial arts styles!
[Could use rephrasing...]
> Zoner chuckled. "OK," he said, "but be careful."
> "I will." She stepped up to Zoner and did her best to kiss
> his cheek. "Call me."
> "Count on it. And think about my offer," he added.
> "I will, seriously. Nice meeting you, too, Gryphon."
> "It was lovely meeting you, too, and I'm glad you're feeling
> much better," I said. "You're still very pale, though. You need more
> sun."
> "You're silly," she said. "I don't even play the cello.
RACE <Zoner>: Uh, what? I said, "You're still very pale, though! You need more sun!"
> Bye!"
> It took me a moment to realize that she had not only parsed my
> reference but come around the back side of it,
ARL: That's nice. Do you mind telling us what the hell it means?
> and by then, she was
> across the street and heading into the big gray bulk of the station,
> past the big silver disc with the 'T' knocked out of it they have
> standing out by the bus stops.
> "You know," I declared as I watched the glass doors close
> behind her, "I believe I like that girl."
> "Yeah," murmured Zoner absently.
>
> We drove home in relative silence; Zoner was still mulling
> over his offer to Meg, and for that matter, so was I. It had been a
> remarkably weird day, but, oddly enough, not our weirdest. When we
> got home, I took Fury for a romp in the park as a reward for staying
> home all day. Fascist hotel administrators, not allowing pets. Maybe
> I should feign blindness. With a bloodhound? Probably wouldn't
> work... them hotel administrators is smart.
> When we returned, panting and damp, an hour later,
MMK: You know, if you thought about it, that sentence could sound really wrong...
[A beat. SD and RACE twitch.]
MMK <^_^ing>: Ah, you thought about it, didn't you? I warned you, but did you listen? Nooo...
SD: I'm sending all my therapy bills to you, Knight...
> he was in
> the same position on the couch. It had gotten fully dark, but he had
> been too busy thinking to turn on any lights, so I did it before
> heading to the master bathroom for a shower. When I came back from
> that, wearing old sweats and scrubbing at my hair with a towel, he was
> still there, staring into space. Fury was sitting next to the couch,
> regarding him as one might regard a particularly intriguing piece of
> statuary, but he lost interest when I entered the room, deciding to
> curl up instead next to my armchair.
> I had been thinking about the same things as Zoner, so I
> figured it was time to offer my input.
> "Before you plan the sneak, we should figure out how we're
> going to cover our collective ass."
TBS: "Collective ass?" This is some sort of Commie thing, isn't it?
> He jumped. Apparently he hadn't realized I was sitting there.
> "Huh?" he said, his train of thought derailed.
> "I said," I repeated, "'Before you plan the sneak, we should
> figure out how we're going to cover our collective ass.'"
> He smiled. "You're in, then?"
> "If we do it right," I replied, leaning back and dropping a
> hand to scratch at Fury's ears. "I'm not interested in boosting
> expensive experimental stuff from the government and getting plastered
> all over the wanted lists, but if we can figure out a way to do it at
> least semi-official-like, I have no objection to rounding up some
> equipment and the like."
> "Yeah, that's the angle I've been trying to figure," Zoner
> admitted.
RACE <Zoner>: This one's 2x plus 20, and the ones around it are 3x plus 10, x plus 50 and 5x minus ten...
> "OSI is history and I don't think we can get them
> reinstated; espionage and enforcement have been completely taken out
> of DoD's hands. There are possibilities in the CIA, or maybe the NSA
> or the IMF, although deniabilty is real low when you've got a motif as
> distinctive as the Bionic Six, and now more than ever deniability is
> the name of the game."
MMK: Deniability! By Milton Bradley!
> "MI-5 is too traditional and MI-6 is having budget problems as
> it is," I observed. "Maybe what we need to do is start a new agency.
GAVOK: The Men in Plaid.
> Independent contractors have been used for that kind of work before.
> I'm not talking about freelance operatives like us, who get hired from
> job to job like temp secretaries, I'm talking about whole third-party
> agencies who the Powers that Be
TBS <confused>: Ashby and McLees?
> work with 'cause they get the job
> done. The espionage equivalent of the difference between a lone
> bounty hunter and a well-organized merc army."
> "Isn't Spectrum like that?"
> "More or less. Right now Spectrum Intel - the Rainbow Group -
> is part of the UN Intel Taskforce under Lethbridge-Stuart, along with
> Cammy's group from MI-6 and some special operatives from Interpol.
> The big anti-Shadolu task force. SHIELD is still independent, though.
> So is International Rescue, come to think of it."
> "Should you even know about that UNIT thing?"
> "Don't see why not - I'm a reserve officer in Spectrum, lest
> you forget; I haven't been activated, but the last time I checked I
> still had Rainbow-level clearance.
SD: Just can't hide that pride, can you Zoner?
> But before you ask, no, Cammy
> didn't tell me. The Brigadier did, oddly enough. He's probably going
> to push Spectrum to activate me so he can draft me one of these days,
> since I work along those same lines anyway in my spare time."
> "Nice work if you can get it." Zoner considered. "If we did
> that, we'd have to get recognition from a couple of the big national
> agencies before anyone would take our new group seriously."
> "Yeah," I agreed. "I can talk to Admiral Messervey, Colonel
> White and Nick Fury, but you'll have to deal with NSA and IMF. It's
> certainly feasible -- look at International Rescue. They go so far as
> to keep their identities secret, but they do good work, so nobody
> hassles them." I paused for a moment as a thought hit me. "Still, we
> have to keep in mind - we're never going to get anywhere without the
> cooperation of the CIA. You don't do anything in Western intel
> without at least the CIA's tacit approval."
> "Hmm... " Zoner sat back on the couch and lost himself in
> thought as we both pondered the big question:
GAVOK: Who in their right mind would want to buy a ticket to see Like Mike?
> who did we know in the
> CIA who would go for something this wild, and be senior enough to make
> his support meaningful?
MMK: The answer is, you guessed it, Frank Stallone.
> Click.
> I looked up and saw Zoner looking up at me.
> "Jim Greer," we said together.
> "*3," I said as Zoner grabbed the phone and started searching
> the end table for the Filofax.
> "Thanks," said Zoner, punching the speed-dial code.
> "It's 9:30 on a Saturday night," I pointed out. "He's
> probably not going to be in."
> "You never know," said Zoner. "Hi, yes. My name is Martin
> Zorn, I'd like to speak to Admiral Greer if he's available.
SD <secretary>: I'm sorry, he's married.
> Yes, I'll
> hold." There was a somewhat lengthy pause. "Jim? Marty Zorn. Is this
> line secure? Got a few minutes?"
>
> MZ
> "Yes, it's secure. Do you have any idea what time it is?" Jim
> Greer growled at me as I switched him to the speaker phone.
> "9:30," I replied. "What's that got to do with anything? The
> Eyes of Democracy never close in sleep."
MMK: They do take occasional catnaps, however.
> "True," Greer admitted gruffly, then relented. "All right, go
> ahead. I was just going over some old files and materials reqs
> anyway. What's on your mind?"
GAVOK <Zoner>: They call them "fingers" but I've never seen them "fing".
> "Can you pull your file on the Office of Scientific
> Intelligence, used to be part of DoD? They got shut down by the Bush
> administration in '91."
> "OSI? What do you want to know about them?" demanded
> Greer, a suspicious note creeping into his voice.
> "Not much, just the disposition of some of their personnel and
> equipment."
> "Damn it, Zoner, this isn't my lunch order you're asking for,
> you know."
> "I'm well aware of that, Admiral. That's why I called you."
> "You're up to something, aren't you." It wasn't a question.
> "You know us, Jim," Ben interjected. "Always thinking of ways
> to help our fellow human beings. Listen, when Bush shut down OSI a
> bunch of good people got screwed.
RACE <Zoner>: ...and I'm doing all this to make sure a great guy gets screwed, ifyaknowwhatImean.
> We're working on an angle to help
> them out, make it up to them a little, and we thought maybe you could
> give us a hand."
MMK <Ben>: We want you to feud with them until losing a cage match at the PPV and putting them over.
> There was a pause.
> "This is the United States Government you're talking about,"
> said Greer at length. "We don't -do- that sort of thing."
> "Oh, come on, Jim," I said. "You remember what you told me
> and Ryan back during that mess with the IRA? Sometimes you've got to
> forget about the procedures and do the Right Thing. Look, just pull
> the files and read 'em, and you'll see what I mean. Read the files
> and then decide, OK?"
> "OK," Greer agreed. "But no promises!"
> "Got a pen?"
ARL <Greer>: That's classified!
> "I'm sitting at my desk, pen in hand, just waiting for you to
> call and give me more work to do."
> "Eternal vigilance," said Gryph, "is the price of liberty."
> "Give me the names," said Greer.
> "OK. Goldman, Oscar. G-O-L-D-M-A-N, just like it sounds.
> Used to be the Director of OSI."
> "Mm hmm."
> "Wells, Dr. Rudy, probably short for Rudolph."
> "Rudy Wells the cyberneticist?"
> "The same. I take it you've heard of him."
> "He did some prosthetics work for the Air Force back in the
> seventies. Nothing ever came of it, as I recall."
> I shot Ben a bemused glance. "Sharp, Dr. Amadeus, that's
> A-M-A-D-E-U-S."
GAVOK: R-O-C-K M-E!
> "Him I've never heard of. Anyone else?"
> "Yes. Six more, all with the same last name, Bennett.
> B-E-N-N-E-T-T. Jack, probably a nickname for John; Helen; Eric; J.D.,
> I don't know what it stands for; Bunjiro; and... " It occurred to me
> that I didn't know if 'Meg' was short for something else. Probably.
> "... and Meg, probably short for Margaret or Megan or some such."
> There was a long pause and the sound of a pen scratching on
> paper.
> "OK," said Greer. "I'll pull the files, I'll look them over,
> and then if I'm interested I'll call you and we'll talk about your
> plans. Fair enough?"
> "More than fair," I replied. "Talk to you soon."
> When I hung up, I noticed Gryph was looking thoughtful again;
> presently, he said, "You know, we should probably consider the
> possibility that we're not going to be able to recruit the rest of
> them. From what Meg was telling us, it sounds to me like her brothers
> have their own lives, and it wouldn't surprise me if her parents were
> enjoying their retirement."
> I shrugged. The thought had occurred to me, but what could I
> do about it either way? Not much.
> Wait.
> Jack Bennett.
> My brain did another of those tickle things. I knew that
> name. Where did I know that name from? Argh! I'm terrible with
> names.
> The next two hours crawled past. I refrained from biting my
> nails, and watched some show about war on the Discovery Channel ("All
> Hitler, all the time").
ARL: Actually, that would be the History Channel. Which makes sense when you think about it; the logo's a giant "H", what else could it stand for? Besides that, Race.
> Gryph, the picture of unconcern, sprawled on
> the other couch reading his book. In his head he was probably
> composing his pitch to Colonel White.
> The phone rang. I think I may have picked it up before the
> bell actually started ringing.
> "Jim Greer," said that unmistakable voice. "Where did you get
> this list of people? Those last six are especially interesting, in a
> you-shouldn't-know-about-them sort of way."
> "Oh, come on, Jim, you're not going to start splitting
> clearances -now-, are you?"
> Greer made an irritated rumbling noise, then relented. "All
> right, I'm assuming you know that the Bennett family used to be
> special operatives."
> "Yes, I know about the Bionic Six."
> "OK, then. Are you going to tell me what you're up to?"
> "I know Meg, aka Rock-1, and she isn't dealing with the whole
> 'back to a normal life' thing very well. She didn't have anything to
> fall back on; I'm worried about her."
> "And?"
> "Well, I want to help her out."
> "And?"
> "OK, I was thinking of setting up a front agency for her to
> work for, get some of their gear back, find out what the good doctors
> are up to, etc., etc."
> Greer sighed. "You can't leave well enough alone, can you."
> "Not when good people get screwed. I'd rather do this without
> having to watch my back the whole time, but either way... So, can you
> help?"
> He took on a cautious tone. "What do you need from me?"
> "First, I need you to stay out of it. I don't want the CIA to
> shut this operation down. The way I look at it, it isn't a threat and
> it may turn into a valuable resource."
> "OK."
> "Second, I'll need to know the locations of the good doctors
> Wells and Sharp, and any remaining equipment."
> "Your secured fax still the same?"
> "Yes, and the scrambler code is up to date as of last
> Thursday."
> "All right, you'll have that data shortly. And you didn't get
> it from me, you hear? When you're done with it, burn it."
> "Loud and clear, roger wilco. One more thing."
> "Naturally. What would it be?" He had that 'uh-oh' tone in
> his voice.
SD <Greer>: He knows I killed Hoffa, doesn't he.
> "If you get other agencies poking around about this, can you
> deflect them for us?"
> "Ohh, no," said Greer in his 'now that's going too far' tone.
MMK: Greer Tone #57!
TBS: I thought that was the "my coffee tastes funny" tone.
MMK: That's #47.
TBS: Ah.
> "The Company is not going to get burned on this one. I'll do what I
> can, but if they catch on, your on you're own. Understand?"
> "Completely."
> "Mr. Hutchins?"
> "Yeah?" Ben replied.
> "Do -you- understand?"
MMK: The part of Greer will be played by Benimaru.
> "I just go where Zoner tells me to and hit the people that
> have to be hit, Jim. Hired muscle with no opinions."
> "Try to be serious, if only for a moment, will you?" came
> Greer's voice, weary-sounding.
> "If you insist. Yes, I understand. Skirting the corners of
> national security is always a chancy business. If we screw up, you'll
> throw us to the wolves. All right?"
> "Good enough. Gentlemen?"
> "Yes?" we chimed.
> "Good luck."
> "Thanks." And with that the connection dropped. The fax
> beeped almost immediately.
> "Well, I guess we should start making some calls."
> "Why don't we wait until morning," said Ben. "I hardly think
> anyone will be very favorable at, close to midnight on a Saturday.
> Let alone the Brits - it's what, 5 AM there? I can never remember if
> they do daylight savings time. At any rate, M. might be up, but I
> doubt he wants to talk shop that early in the morning."
> "Yeah, you're right. (They do.) Ah, it'll give us more time
> to go over this data anyway. Here, this is the stuff on the
> scientists... why don't you talk to them tomorrow. I'll see what I
> can do about the equipment. And, of course, we'll have to talk to a
> few agencies. I'll see what I can do on their systems. If we're
> lucky we'll have all of them thinking the others are behind it."
> "Yeah, and if we're not they'll all be looking at us."
> "Ah, you have to have the right attitude."
> Ben just glared at me.
> "I'm about to violate the National Security Act and who knows
> what other important laws so you can impress some chick you met at a
> music festival, and you're talking about 'the right attitude'."
> I shrugged.
> "Well, fine," he said, getting up. "I'm going to bed.
> There's no sense violating Federal law without sufficient rest."
MMK: Somewhere in Liberty City, a nameless wheelman has a motivational poster with that phrase on his wall...
> MZ
> I didn't pay much attention as Ben related his tale. I knew
> it all by now anyway, and he was leaving out a lot of the good bits.
ARL <Zoner>: But that's what the DVD is for.
> My mind was drifting on the topic of finding funds for Meg.
S.D.: Oh, slick. Win her heart with money.
> I know
> what you're thinking:
MMK <Zoner>: 10 CDs for a dollar? No way!
> "Oh, slick. Win her heart with money." You
> should be ashamed.
S.D.: Don't you *dare* put me on a guilt trip, Zoner!
ARL: He can't hear you, Shady.
S.D.: Look, just... don't start with me, alright?
> The money had nothing to do with it. I just hate
> seeing cool people get a raw deal, and if I can rectify that in some
> way, good. And while I felt like a nervous schoolboy hoping the
> object of his crush would give him the time of day, I wouldn't want
> anyone to like me because of what I did for them. If Meg was going to
> like me I wanted it to be because of me. Yeah, I tend to get myself
> into weird mental Mobius loops a lot.
TBS: Then he has to run around really fast and get a bunch of emeralds together to stop a really fat guy from taking over a world populated entirely by furries.
> But while the personal matter was out of my control, the
> professional was not. Meg would have to decide on her own if that was
> what she wanted. I would never pressure anyone into a decision like
> that; it isn't fair. But if that is what she wanted, then I would do
> what I could to get it for her.
GAVOK <Zoner>: So I would walk five hundred miles. And I would walk five hundred more. Just to be the man who'd walk a thousand miles and fall down at that door.
> And I was fairly confident that I
> could do it.
RACE <Zoner>: I'm smart enough, I'm strong enough, and doggone it, people like me!
> She seemed to be doing what I had done.
TBS: She was getting a tattoo of Spongebob Squarepants on her backside.
> Going to school for
> music seems like a natural course for her, after all, but I could tell
> her heart wasn't really into it. I did the same thing. I loved
> aircraft, I loved to fly, and I had an aptitude for engineering;
S.D.: He had a spanner, a nailgun, some EMP grenades...
GAVOK: ...and karma.
> so it
> seemed natural to major in Aerospace Engineering. Except I found it
> bored me to tears. The hard part was realizing that in the first
> place. I thought it was me, that I just wasn't cut out for college.
> Once I wised up to the root of the problem and changed majors, I had a
> much better time and actually enjoyed what I was doing. Sure, so I
> ended up with a double major in Technical Writing and History. It
> isn't all that unusual for people to have careers in areas completely
> unrelated to their degrees.
RACE <Ryu>: I swear by my computer programming degree that I will become the greatest fighter ever!
> Besides, the History degree comes in
> handy at times on our trips.
GAVOK: Ah. Zoner hangs out with Peabody.
S.D. <Zoner>: Hey Gryph, do you realize that wall you're smashing that mook's head into was constructed in the sixteenth centry to defend against-
ARL <Gryphon>: Not *now*, Zoner...
> So I never got that aerospace degree. But I still loved
> aircraft. Aircraft? Something in the back of my mind was awakening.
TBS <Zoner>: It was late for work and had a breakfast burrito.
> Wait, didn't the Bionic Six have a plane? What was it? I remember
> looking at it almost as much as (ok, more than, I'm a geek) Rock-1. I
> had a big poster of it, an "artist's interpretation", big white and
> red B-1-like plane chasing an F-4, and while I was mentally picturing
> that poster something in my mind went
> click.
GAVOK <John Cleese>: Ah, I see Zoner has a mind that goes "click!"
> "Sky Dancer!"
> Having been interrupted by a seemingly unrelated exclamation,
> Ben looked understandably puzzled. Meg was momentarily startled, but
> recovered quickly.
> "What about it?"
> "Whatever happened to it?"
> "Beats me. Last I saw of it the government was taking it
> away.
S.D. <Meg>: They say it knew too much.
MMK <singing, nasally>: Take it awaaay, 'cause it just don't wanna stay, and the lies you make it saaay are gettin' deeper every day...
> They pretty much cleaned out the SPL when they let us all go.
> They loaded Sky Dancer up with the Mule and the rest of our gear and
> flew it out. I haven't seen it since then. Why?" We had left Ben
> far behind; he had no clue what we were talking about. But he seemed
> comfortable, knowing he'd be sucked into it in the end - whatever it
> was.
GAVOK <Ben>: What's the Sky Dancer?
MMK <Zoner>: Goddammit, Ben! Not everything begins and ends when you say it does! You're out of your element!
SD <Meg>: So anyway...
GAVOK <Ben>: I am the Walrus.
MMK <Zoner>: Shut the fuck up, Ben! You're out of your element!
SD <Meg>: Fuck it. Let's bowl.
> "Well, it seems a shame to let such a fine aircraft go to
> waste. Maybe we could find it. And if we find it we may find the
> rest of your gear."
SD: ...then you can fix it nanomachines and drive it around between the half-hour long shots of the main characters sitting in the spotlight.
[This may be far too bitter... -RoP]
>
> G
> Zoner had that gleam in his eyes that meant I was going to get
> sucked into this mess whether or not I wanted to. He had a mission,
> and by God nothing was going to stand in his way.
RACE <Zoner>: I'M UNSTOPPABLE!
GAVOK <Cosgrove>: Hey Zoner, want to see a bear ride a motorcycle?
TBS <MZ>: Do I ever!! Let's ROLL!!
> When he got his
> teeth around the bit there was no stopping him.
MMK <Zoner>: This Proton Energy Pill gives me the power of 10 atom bombs in 10 seconds!
> Besides, I didn't
> have anything on the agenda for the excruciatingly near future.
ARL <Gryphon>: Wait, Iron Chef is on... DAMN it!
> Meg looked uncertain -- understandable, really. Zoner's plans
> always sound like harebrained schemes, mainly because they're
> harebrained schemes. We almost always manage to pull it together,
> though.
> Just about then the food arrived, effectively ending that
> branch of conversation. I could tell Zoner was still thinking about
> it, though; he always gets a bit distant when he's running a major
> background job.
TBS: He might need more RAM.
RACE: Believe me, with Meg in the story, Zoner's going to get all the RAM he needs...
> Instead of duplicating his effort, I mulled over what she had
> told me. Something about it was nagging at me, something had popped
> up a red flag in my memory, but I hadn't been able to pin down what it
> was. I ran through the story again in my head, and then lit on what
> had rung the mental bell.
TBS <Gryphon>: Then I gave it a mental cookie.
MMK: Food for thought?
[ALL groan.]
> "Hey, Meg... did you say you had a brother named Bunji?"
> She blinked at me, then said, "Yeah. Like I said, he's in
> Hong Kong."
> "Is that short for 'Bunjiro'?"
> "Yeah, it is, why?"
> "Well, can you beat that? I know him.
ARL <Zoner>: I met Burt Ward at a gas station.
TBS <Ben>: Damn!
> Well, I've -met- him,
> I know him to say 'hi' to."
> "Really? How'd you meet him?"
GAVOK <Ben>: We played Russian Roulette together.
> "Last time I hit a tournament in Hong Kong he was there," I
> replied. "Not fighting, just watching. He hangs out with Fei Long,
> the kung fu champ." The last time I was in Hong Kong I fought Fei
> Long, and beat him narrowly, with about as much luck as skill; neither
> of us were World Warriors at the time, but he had trained even harder
> after that defeat and had reached the bracket six months before me.
> Zoner blinked. "Oh yeah! The guy who worked Fei Long's
> corner -was- named Bunjiro, wasn't he? I forgot all about it."
> Meg nodded. "Fei Long is helping Bunji get his movie career
> off the ground.
MMK <Norm MacDonald>: Hey, I know what it's called! Box Office Poison!
> He was a big action star before he started street
> fighting. I guess you could say he's Bunji's mentor."
> "Small world, isn't it?"
>
> Our meal over, we hit the awkward stage of the day:
RACE <Ben>: For some reason we agreed that we'd bathe together once every day.
> going our
> separate ways. Evening was hinting at the possibility that it might
> be considering the ramifications of starting to gather in the eastern
> sky,
ARL: "It was getting dark."
> and Zoner and I were heading back to Worcester. Zoner gave Meg
> one of his cards;
SD <Meg>: "How to play Black Jack"?
[OR]
SD <Meg>: Ooh, a foil Mirari...
> she took another from him, scribbled her number on
> the back of it and returned it,
ARL <Zoner>: 212-479-7990? You've got the same number as the last girl I met...
> then waved off his offer of a lift
> back into town.
> "Driving in Boston with this landmass? I don't think so.
> We're right next to the station, I'll just take the T."
> "Well... if you're sure."
> "Relax, I ride the T all the time. I know a thing or two
> about self-defense," she said with a grin.
SD: She knows Jeet Kun Do, Tae Bo, Muei Thai and seventeen other names of martial arts styles!
[Could use rephrasing...]
> Zoner chuckled. "OK," he said, "but be careful."
> "I will." She stepped up to Zoner and did her best to kiss
> his cheek. "Call me."
> "Count on it. And think about my offer," he added.
> "I will, seriously. Nice meeting you, too, Gryphon."
> "It was lovely meeting you, too, and I'm glad you're feeling
> much better," I said. "You're still very pale, though. You need more
> sun."
> "You're silly," she said. "I don't even play the cello.
RACE <Zoner>: Uh, what? I said, "You're still very pale, though! You need more sun!"
> Bye!"
> It took me a moment to realize that she had not only parsed my
> reference but come around the back side of it,
ARL: That's nice. Do you mind telling us what the hell it means?
> and by then, she was
> across the street and heading into the big gray bulk of the station,
> past the big silver disc with the 'T' knocked out of it they have
> standing out by the bus stops.
> "You know," I declared as I watched the glass doors close
> behind her, "I believe I like that girl."
> "Yeah," murmured Zoner absently.
>
> We drove home in relative silence; Zoner was still mulling
> over his offer to Meg, and for that matter, so was I. It had been a
> remarkably weird day, but, oddly enough, not our weirdest. When we
> got home, I took Fury for a romp in the park as a reward for staying
> home all day. Fascist hotel administrators, not allowing pets. Maybe
> I should feign blindness. With a bloodhound? Probably wouldn't
> work... them hotel administrators is smart.
> When we returned, panting and damp, an hour later,
MMK: You know, if you thought about it, that sentence could sound really wrong...
[A beat. SD and RACE twitch.]
MMK <^_^ing>: Ah, you thought about it, didn't you? I warned you, but did you listen? Nooo...
SD: I'm sending all my therapy bills to you, Knight...
> he was in
> the same position on the couch. It had gotten fully dark, but he had
> been too busy thinking to turn on any lights, so I did it before
> heading to the master bathroom for a shower. When I came back from
> that, wearing old sweats and scrubbing at my hair with a towel, he was
> still there, staring into space. Fury was sitting next to the couch,
> regarding him as one might regard a particularly intriguing piece of
> statuary, but he lost interest when I entered the room, deciding to
> curl up instead next to my armchair.
> I had been thinking about the same things as Zoner, so I
> figured it was time to offer my input.
> "Before you plan the sneak, we should figure out how we're
> going to cover our collective ass."
TBS: "Collective ass?" This is some sort of Commie thing, isn't it?
> He jumped. Apparently he hadn't realized I was sitting there.
> "Huh?" he said, his train of thought derailed.
> "I said," I repeated, "'Before you plan the sneak, we should
> figure out how we're going to cover our collective ass.'"
> He smiled. "You're in, then?"
> "If we do it right," I replied, leaning back and dropping a
> hand to scratch at Fury's ears. "I'm not interested in boosting
> expensive experimental stuff from the government and getting plastered
> all over the wanted lists, but if we can figure out a way to do it at
> least semi-official-like, I have no objection to rounding up some
> equipment and the like."
ARL: So you have no problems stealing top-secret military equipment, so
long as you don't get caught. You're a real bastion of morality, you
know that?
> "Yeah, that's the angle I've been trying to figure," Zoner
> admitted.
RACE <Zoner>: This one's 2x plus 20, and the ones around it are 3x plus 10, x plus 50 and 5x minus ten...
> "OSI is history and I don't think we can get them
> reinstated; espionage and enforcement have been completely taken out
> of DoD's hands. There are possibilities in the CIA, or maybe the NSA
> or the IMF, although deniabilty is real low when you've got a motif as
> distinctive as the Bionic Six, and now more than ever deniability is
> the name of the game."
MMK: Deniability! By Milton Bradley!
> "MI-5 is too traditional and MI-6 is having budget problems as
> it is," I observed. "Maybe what we need to do is start a new agency.
GAVOK: The Men in Plaid.
> Independent contractors have been used for that kind of work before.
> I'm not talking about freelance operatives like us, who get hired from
> job to job like temp secretaries, I'm talking about whole third-party
> agencies who the Powers that Be
TBS <confused>: Ashby and McLees?
> work with 'cause they get the job
> done. The espionage equivalent of the difference between a lone
> bounty hunter and a well-organized merc army."
> "Isn't Spectrum like that?"
> "More or less. Right now Spectrum Intel - the Rainbow Group -
> is part of the UN Intel Taskforce under Lethbridge-Stuart, along with
> Cammy's group from MI-6 and some special operatives from Interpol.
> The big anti-Shadolu task force. SHIELD is still independent, though.
> So is International Rescue, come to think of it."
> "Should you even know about that UNIT thing?"
> "Don't see why not - I'm a reserve officer in Spectrum, lest
> you forget; I haven't been activated, but the last time I checked I
> still had Rainbow-level clearance.
SD: Just can't hide that pride, can you Zoner?
> But before you ask, no, Cammy
> didn't tell me. The Brigadier did, oddly enough. He's probably going
> to push Spectrum to activate me so he can draft me one of these days,
> since I work along those same lines anyway in my spare time."
> "Nice work if you can get it." Zoner considered. "If we did
> that, we'd have to get recognition from a couple of the big national
> agencies before anyone would take our new group seriously."
> "Yeah," I agreed. "I can talk to Admiral Messervey, Colonel
> White and Nick Fury, but you'll have to deal with NSA and IMF. It's
> certainly feasible -- look at International Rescue. They go so far as
> to keep their identities secret, but they do good work, so nobody
> hassles them." I paused for a moment as a thought hit me. "Still, we
> have to keep in mind - we're never going to get anywhere without the
> cooperation of the CIA. You don't do anything in Western intel
> without at least the CIA's tacit approval."
> "Hmm... " Zoner sat back on the couch and lost himself in
> thought as we both pondered the big question:
GAVOK: Who in their right mind would want to buy a ticket to see Like Mike?
> who did we know in the
> CIA who would go for something this wild, and be senior enough to make
> his support meaningful?
MMK: The answer is, you guessed it, Frank Stallone.
> Click.
> I looked up and saw Zoner looking up at me.
> "Jim Greer," we said together.
> "*3," I said as Zoner grabbed the phone and started searching
> the end table for the Filofax.
> "Thanks," said Zoner, punching the speed-dial code.
> "It's 9:30 on a Saturday night," I pointed out. "He's
> probably not going to be in."
> "You never know," said Zoner. "Hi, yes. My name is Martin
> Zorn, I'd like to speak to Admiral Greer if he's available.
SD <secretary>: I'm sorry, he's married.
> Yes, I'll
> hold." There was a somewhat lengthy pause. "Jim? Marty Zorn. Is this
> line secure? Got a few minutes?"
>
> MZ
> "Yes, it's secure. Do you have any idea what time it is?" Jim
> Greer growled at me as I switched him to the speaker phone.
> "9:30," I replied. "What's that got to do with anything? The
> Eyes of Democracy never close in sleep."
MMK: They do take occasional catnaps, however.
> "True," Greer admitted gruffly, then relented. "All right, go
> ahead. I was just going over some old files and materials reqs
> anyway. What's on your mind?"
GAVOK <Zoner>: They call them "fingers" but I've never seen them "fing".
> "Can you pull your file on the Office of Scientific
> Intelligence, used to be part of DoD? They got shut down by the Bush
> administration in '91."
> "OSI? What do you want to know about them?" demanded
> Greer, a suspicious note creeping into his voice.
> "Not much, just the disposition of some of their personnel and
> equipment."
> "Damn it, Zoner, this isn't my lunch order you're asking for,
> you know."
> "I'm well aware of that, Admiral. That's why I called you."
> "You're up to something, aren't you." It wasn't a question.
> "You know us, Jim," Ben interjected. "Always thinking of ways
> to help our fellow human beings. Listen, when Bush shut down OSI a
> bunch of good people got screwed.
RACE <Zoner>: ...and I'm doing all this to make sure a great guy gets screwed, ifyaknowwhatImean.
> We're working on an angle to help
> them out, make it up to them a little, and we thought maybe you could
> give us a hand."
MMK <Ben>: We want you to feud with them until losing a cage match at the PPV and putting them over.
> There was a pause.
> "This is the United States Government you're talking about,"
> said Greer at length. "We don't -do- that sort of thing."
> "Oh, come on, Jim," I said. "You remember what you told me
> and Ryan back during that mess with the IRA? Sometimes you've got to
> forget about the procedures and do the Right Thing.
S.D. <MZ>: Screw federal law, I need you to do this so I can score!
> Look, just pull
> the files and read 'em, and you'll see what I mean. Read the files
> and then decide, OK?"
> "OK," Greer agreed. "But no promises!"
> "Got a pen?"
ARL <Greer>: That's classified!
> "I'm sitting at my desk, pen in hand, just waiting for you to
> call and give me more work to do."
> "Eternal vigilance," said Gryph, "is the price of liberty."
> "Give me the names," said Greer.
> "OK. Goldman, Oscar. G-O-L-D-M-A-N,
LOONS <chanting>: Goldmaaaaan... Goldmaaaaan...
> just like it sounds.
> Used to be the Director of OSI."
> "Mm hmm."
> "Wells, Dr. Rudy, probably short for Rudolph."
> "Rudy Wells the cyberneticist?"
> "The same. I take it you've heard of him."
> "He did some prosthetics work for the Air Force back in the
> seventies. Nothing ever came of it, as I recall."
> I shot Ben a bemused glance. "Sharp, Dr. Amadeus, that's
> A-M-A-D-E-U-S."
GAVOK: R-O-C-K M-E!
> "Him I've never heard of. Anyone else?"
> "Yes. Six more, all with the same last name, Bennett.
> B-E-N-N-E-T-T. Jack, probably a nickname for John; Helen; Eric; J.D.,
> I don't know what it stands for; Bunjiro; and... " It occurred to me
> that I didn't know if 'Meg' was short for something else. Probably.
> "... and Meg, probably short for Margaret or Megan or some such."
> There was a long pause and the sound of a pen scratching on
> paper.
RACE <paper>: Little lower... ah, right there. Great...
> "OK," said Greer. "I'll pull the files, I'll look them over,
> and then if I'm interested I'll call you and we'll talk about your
> plans. Fair enough?"
> "More than fair," I replied. "Talk to you soon."
> When I hung up, I noticed Gryph was looking thoughtful again;
> presently, he said, "You know, we should probably consider the
> possibility that we're not going to be able to recruit the rest of
> them. From what Meg was telling us, it sounds to me like her brothers
> have their own lives, and it wouldn't surprise me if her parents were
> enjoying their retirement."
> I shrugged. The thought had occurred to me, but what could I
> do about it either way? Not much.
> Wait.
> Jack Bennett.
> My brain did another of those tickle things. I knew that
> name. Where did I know that name from? Argh! I'm terrible with
> names.
> The next two hours crawled past. I refrained from biting my
> nails, and watched some show about war on the Discovery Channel ("All
> Hitler, all the time").
ARL: Actually, that would be the History Channel. Which makes sense when you think about it; the logo's a giant gilded "H", what else could it stand for? Besides that, Race.
> Gryph, the picture of unconcern, sprawled on
> the other couch reading his book. In his head he was probably
> composing his pitch to Colonel White.
> The phone rang. I think I may have picked it up before the
> bell actually started ringing.
> "Jim Greer," said that unmistakable voice. "Where did you get
> this list of people? Those last six are especially interesting, in a
> you-shouldn't-know-about-them sort of way."
> "Oh, come on, Jim, you're not going to start splitting
> clearances -now-, are you?"
> Greer made an irritated rumbling noise, then relented. "All
> right, I'm assuming you know that the Bennett family used to be
> special operatives."
> "Yes, I know about the Bionic Six."
> "OK, then. Are you going to tell me what you're up to?"
> "I know Meg, aka Rock-1, and she isn't dealing with the whole
> 'back to a normal life' thing very well. She didn't have anything to
> fall back on; I'm worried about her."
> "And?"
> "Well, I want to help her out."
> "And?"
> "OK, I was thinking of setting up a front agency for her to
> work for, get some of their gear back, find out what the good doctors
> are up to, etc., etc."
> Greer sighed. "You can't leave well enough alone, can you."
> "Not when good people get screwed.
RACE <MZ>: Or when good people *could* get screwed. Heh heh...
ARL: Alright Race, Zoner's doing this so he can get laid. Now shut up.
> I'd rather do this without
> having to watch my back the whole time, but either way... So, can you
> help?"
> He took on a cautious tone. "What do you need from me?"
> "First, I need you to stay out of it. I don't want the CIA to
> shut this operation down. The way I look at it, it isn't a threat and
> it may turn into a valuable resource."
ARL: So you think that, even though you're setting up a barely-legal
mercenary-slash-special forces organization both behind the government's
back AND under its nose, they're going to be alright with it?
SD: Of course they are. It's *Gryphon*.
> "OK."
> "Second, I'll need to know the locations of the good doctors
> Wells and Sharp, and any remaining equipment."
> "Your secured fax still the same?"
> "Yes, and the scrambler code is up to date as of last
> Thursday."
> "All right, you'll have that data shortly. And you didn't get
> it from me, you hear? When you're done with it, burn it."
> "Loud and clear, roger wilco. One more thing."
> "Naturally. What would it be?" He had that 'uh-oh' tone in
> his voice.
SD <Greer>: He knows I killed Hoffa, doesn't he.
MMK: Ah, Jim Greer Tone #17.
> "If you get other agencies poking around about this, can you
> deflect them for us?"
> "Ohh, no," said Greer in his 'now that's going too far' tone.
MMK: Greer Tone #57!
TBS: I thought that was the "my coffee tastes funny" tone.
MMK: That's #47.
TBS: Ah.
> "The Company is not going to get burned on this one. I'll do what I
> can, but if they catch on, your on you're own. Understand?"
> "Completely."
> "Mr. Hutchins?"
> "Yeah?" Ben replied.
> "Do -you- understand?"
MMK: The part of Greer will be played by Benimaru.
> "I just go where Zoner tells me to and hit the people that
> have to be hit, Jim. Hired muscle with no opinions."
> "Try to be serious, if only for a moment, will you?" came
> Greer's voice, weary-sounding.
> "If you insist. Yes, I understand. Skirting the corners of
> national security is always a chancy business. If we screw up, you'll
> throw us to the wolves. All right?"
> "Good enough. Gentlemen?"
> "Yes?" we chimed.
> "Good luck."
> "Thanks." And with that the connection dropped. The fax
> beeped almost immediately.
> "Well, I guess we should start making some calls."
> "Why don't we wait until morning," said Ben. "I hardly think
> anyone will be very favorable at, close to midnight on a Saturday.
> Let alone the Brits - it's what, 5 AM there? I can never remember if
> they do daylight savings time. At any rate, M. might be up, but I
> doubt he wants to talk shop that early in the morning."
> "Yeah, you're right. (They do.) Ah, it'll give us more time
> to go over this data anyway. Here, this is the stuff on the
> scientists... why don't you talk to them tomorrow. I'll see what I
> can do about the equipment. And, of course, we'll have to talk to a
> few agencies. I'll see what I can do on their systems. If we're
> lucky we'll have all of them thinking the others are behind it."
> "Yeah, and if we're not they'll all be looking at us."
> "Ah, you have to have the right attitude."
> Ben just glared at me.
> "I'm about to violate the National Security Act and who knows
> what other important laws so you can impress some chick you met at a
> music festival, and you're talking about 'the right attitude'."
> I shrugged.
> "Well, fine," he said, getting up. "I'm going to bed.
> There's no sense violating Federal law without sufficient rest."
MMK: Somewhere in Liberty City, a nameless wheelman has a motivational poster with that phrase on his wall...
Good evening, Mr. Phelps. Your riffing, should you choose to accept it...
by
> MZ
> I didn't pay much attention as Ben related his tale. I knew
> it all by now anyway, and he was leaving out a lot of the good bits.
ARL <Zoner>: But that's what the DVD is for.
> My mind was drifting on the topic of finding funds for Meg.
S.D.: Oh, slick. Win her heart with money.
> I know
> what you're thinking:
MMK <Zoner>: 10 CDs for a dollar? No way!
> "Oh, slick. Win her heart with money." You
> should be ashamed.
S.D.: Don't you *dare* put me on a guilt trip, Zoner!
ARL: He can't hear you, Shady.
S.D.: Look, just... don't start with me, alright?
> The money had nothing to do with it. I just hate
> seeing cool people get a raw deal, and if I can rectify that in some
> way, good. And while I felt like a nervous schoolboy hoping the
> object of his crush would give him the time of day, I wouldn't want
> anyone to like me because of what I did for them. If Meg was going to
> like me I wanted it to be because of me. Yeah, I tend to get myself
> into weird mental Mobius loops a lot.
TBS: Then he has to run around really fast and get a bunch of emeralds together to stop a really fat guy from taking over a world populated entirely by furries.
> But while the personal matter was out of my control, the
> professional was not. Meg would have to decide on her own if that was
> what she wanted. I would never pressure anyone into a decision like
> that; it isn't fair. But if that is what she wanted, then I would do
> what I could to get it for her.
GAVOK <Zoner>: So I would walk five hundred miles. And I would walk five hundred more. Just to be the man who'd walk a thousand miles and fall down at that door.
> And I was fairly confident that I
> could do it.
RACE <Zoner>: I'm smart enough, I'm strong enough, and doggone it, people like me!
> She seemed to be doing what I had done.
TBS: She was getting a tattoo of Spongebob Squarepants on her backside.
> Going to school for
> music seems like a natural course for her, after all, but I could tell
> her heart wasn't really into it. I did the same thing. I loved
> aircraft, I loved to fly, and I had an aptitude for engineering;
S.D.: He had a spanner, a nailgun, some EMP grenades...
GAVOK: ...and karma.
> so it
> seemed natural to major in Aerospace Engineering. Except I found it
> bored me to tears. The hard part was realizing that in the first
> place. I thought it was me, that I just wasn't cut out for college.
> Once I wised up to the root of the problem and changed majors, I had a
> much better time and actually enjoyed what I was doing. Sure, so I
> ended up with a double major in Technical Writing and History. It
> isn't all that unusual for people to have careers in areas completely
> unrelated to their degrees.
RACE <Ryu>: I swear by my computer programming degree that I will become the greatest fighter ever!
> Besides, the History degree comes in
> handy at times on our trips.
GAVOK: Ah. Zoner hangs out with Peabody.
S.D. <Zoner>: Hey Gryph, do you realize that wall you're smashing that mook's head into was constructed in the sixteenth centry to defend against-
ARL <Gryphon>: Not *now*, Zoner...
> So I never got that aerospace degree. But I still loved
> aircraft. Aircraft? Something in the back of my mind was awakening.
TBS <Zoner>: It was late for work and had a breakfast burrito.
> Wait, didn't the Bionic Six have a plane? What was it? I remember
> looking at it almost as much as (ok, more than, I'm a geek) Rock-1. I
> had a big poster of it, an "artist's interpretation", big white and
> red B-1-like plane chasing an F-4, and while I was mentally picturing
> that poster something in my mind went
> click.
GAVOK <John Cleese>: Ah, I see Zoner has a mind that goes "click!"
> "Sky Dancer!"
S.D. <singing>: Fly for me, fly for me, Sky Dancers fly for me!
> Having been interrupted by a seemingly unrelated exclamation,
> Ben looked understandably puzzled. Meg was momentarily startled, but
> recovered quickly.
> "What about it?"
> "Whatever happened to it?"
> "Beats me. Last I saw of it the government was taking it
> away.
S.D. <Meg>: They say it knew too much.
MMK <singing, nasally>: Take it awaaay, 'cause it just don't wanna stay, and the lies you make it saaay are gettin' deeper every day...
> They pretty much cleaned out the SPL when they let us all go.
> They loaded Sky Dancer up with the Mule and the rest of our gear and
> flew it out. I haven't seen it since then. Why?" We had left Ben
> far behind; he had no clue what we were talking about. But he seemed
> comfortable, knowing he'd be sucked into it in the end - whatever it
> was.
GAVOK <Ben>: What's the Sky Dancer?
MMK <Zoner>: Goddammit, Ben! Not everything begins and ends when you say it does! You're out of your element!
SD <Meg>: So anyway...
GAVOK <Ben>: I am the Walrus.
MMK <Zoner>: Shut the fuck up, Ben! You're out of your element!
SD <Meg>: Fuck it. Let's bowl.
> "Well, it seems a shame to let such a fine aircraft go to
> waste. Maybe we could find it. And if we find it we may find the
> rest of your gear."
SD: ...then you can fix it nanomachines and drive it around between the half-hour long shots of the main characters sitting in the spotlight.
[This may be far too bitter... -RoP]
>
> G
> Zoner had that gleam in his eyes that meant I was going to get
> sucked into this mess whether or not I wanted to. He had a mission,
> and by God nothing was going to stand in his way.
RACE <Zoner>: I'M UNSTOPPABLE!
GAVOK <Cosgrove>: Hey Zoner, want to see a bear ride a motorcycle?
TBS <MZ>: Do I ever!! Let's ROLL!!
> When he got his
> teeth around the bit there was no stopping him.
MMK <Zoner>: This Proton Energy Pill gives me the power of 10 atom bombs in 10 seconds!
> Besides, I didn't
> have anything on the agenda for the excruciatingly near future.
ARL <Gryphon>: Wait, Iron Chef is on... DAMN it!
> Meg looked uncertain -- understandable, really. Zoner's plans
> always sound like harebrained schemes, mainly because they're
> harebrained schemes. We almost always manage to pull it together,
> though.
> Just about then the food arrived, effectively ending that
> branch of conversation. I could tell Zoner was still thinking about
> it, though; he always gets a bit distant when he's running a major
> background job.
TBS: He might need more RAM.
RACE: Believe me, with Meg in the story, Zoner's going to get all the RAM he needs...
> Instead of duplicating his effort, I mulled over what she had
> told me. Something about it was nagging at me, something had popped
> up a red flag in my memory, but I hadn't been able to pin down what it
> was. I ran through the story again in my head, and then lit on what
> had rung the mental bell.
TBS <Gryphon>: Then I gave it a mental cookie.
MMK: Food for thought?
[ALL groan.]
> "Hey, Meg... did you say you had a brother named Bunji?"
> She blinked at me, then said, "Yeah. Like I said, he's in
> Hong Kong."
> "Is that short for 'Bunjiro'?"
> "Yeah, it is, why?"
> "Well, can you beat that? I know him.
ARL <Zoner>: I met Burt Ward at a gas station.
TBS <Ben>: Damn!
> Well, I've -met- him,
> I know him to say 'hi' to."
> "Really? How'd you meet him?"
GAVOK <Ben>: We played Russian Roulette together.
> "Last time I hit a tournament in Hong Kong he was there," I
> replied. "Not fighting, just watching. He hangs out with Fei Long,
> the kung fu champ." The last time I was in Hong Kong I fought Fei
> Long, and beat him narrowly, with about as much luck as skill;
RACE: And about as much plot contriving as luck and skill *combined*...
> neither
> of us were World Warriors at the time, but he had trained even harder
> after that defeat and had reached the bracket six months before me.
> Zoner blinked. "Oh yeah! The guy who worked Fei Long's
> corner -was- named Bunjiro, wasn't he? I forgot all about it."
> Meg nodded. "Fei Long is helping Bunji get his movie career
> off the ground.
MMK <Norm MacDonald>: Hey, I know what it's called! Box Office Poison!
> He was a big action star before he started street
> fighting. I guess you could say he's Bunji's mentor."
> "Small world, isn't it?"
>
> Our meal over, we hit the awkward stage of the day:
RACE <Ben>: For some reason we agreed that we'd bathe together once every day.
> going our
> separate ways. Evening was hinting at the possibility that it might
> be considering the ramifications of starting to gather in the eastern
> sky,
ARL: "It was getting dark."
> and Zoner and I were heading back to Worcester. Zoner gave Meg
> one of his cards;
SD <Meg>: "How to play Black Jack"?
[OR]
SD <Meg>: Ooh, a foil Mirari...
> she took another from him, scribbled her number on
> the back of it and returned it,
ARL <Zoner>: 212-479-7990? You've got the same number as the last girl I met...
> then waved off his offer of a lift
> back into town.
> "Driving in Boston with this landmass? I don't think so.
> We're right next to the station, I'll just take the T."
> "Well... if you're sure."
> "Relax, I ride the T all the time. I know a thing or two
> about self-defense," she said with a grin.
SD: She knows Jeet Kun Do, Tae Bo, Muei Thai and seventeen other names of martial arts styles!
[Could use rephrasing...]
> Zoner chuckled. "OK," he said, "but be careful."
> "I will." She stepped up to Zoner and did her best to kiss
> his cheek. "Call me."
> "Count on it. And think about my offer," he added.
> "I will, seriously. Nice meeting you, too, Gryphon."
> "It was lovely meeting you, too, and I'm glad you're feeling
> much better," I said. "You're still very pale, though. You need more
> sun."
> "You're silly," she said. "I don't even play the cello.
RACE <Zoner>: Uh, what? I said, "You're still very pale, though! You need more sun!"
> Bye!"
> It took me a moment to realize that she had not only parsed my
> reference but come around the back side of it,
ARL: That's nice. Do you mind telling us what the hell it means?
> and by then, she was
> across the street and heading into the big gray bulk of the station,
> past the big silver disc with the 'T' knocked out of it they have
> standing out by the bus stops.
> "You know," I declared as I watched the glass doors close
> behind her, "I believe I like that girl."
> "Yeah," murmured Zoner absently.
>
MMK <Zoner as George>: All right, love...whatever love wants. Just don't start in on the bit, that's all.
> We drove home in relative silence; Zoner was still mulling
> over his offer to Meg, and for that matter, so was I. It had been a
> remarkably weird day, but, oddly enough, not our weirdest. When we
> got home, I took Fury for a romp in the park as a reward for staying
> home all day. Fascist hotel administrators, not allowing pets.
GAVOK: Particularly not allowing FURY!
LOONS: YAY FURY!
> Maybe
> I should feign blindness. With a bloodhound? Probably wouldn't
> work... them hotel administrators is smart.
> When we returned, panting and damp, an hour later,
MMK: You know, if you thought about it, that sentence could sound really wrong...
[A beat. SD and RACE twitch.]
MMK <^_^ing>: Ah, you thought about it, didn't you? I warned you, but did you listen? Nooo...
SD: I'm sending all my therapy bills to you, Knight...
> he was in
> the same position on the couch. It had gotten fully dark, but he had
> been too busy thinking to turn on any lights, so I did it before
> heading to the master bathroom for a shower. When I came back from
> that, wearing old sweats and scrubbing at my hair with a towel, he was
> still there, staring into space. Fury was sitting next to the couch,
> regarding him as one might regard a particularly intriguing piece of
> statuary,
ARL: Like Rodin's lost masterpiece "The Mary Sue"?
> but he lost interest when I entered the room, deciding to
> curl up instead next to my armchair.
> I had been thinking about the same things as Zoner, so I
> figured it was time to offer my input.
> "Before you plan the sneak, we should figure out how we're
> going to cover our collective ass."
TBS: "Collective ass?" This is some sort of Commie thing, isn't it?
> He jumped. Apparently he hadn't realized I was sitting there.
> "Huh?" he said, his train of thought derailed.
> "I said," I repeated, "'Before you plan the sneak, we should
> figure out how we're going to cover our collective ass.'"
> He smiled. "You're in, then?"
> "If we do it right," I replied, leaning back and dropping a
> hand to scratch at Fury's ears. "I'm not interested in boosting
> expensive experimental stuff from the government and getting plastered
> all over the wanted lists, but if we can figure out a way to do it at
> least semi-official-like, I have no objection to rounding up some
> equipment and the like."
ARL: So you have no problems stealing top-secret military equipment, so
long as you don't get caught. You're a real bastion of morality, you
know that?
> "Yeah, that's the angle I've been trying to figure," Zoner
> admitted.
RACE <Zoner>: This one's 2x plus 20, and the ones around it are 3x plus 10, x plus 50 and 5x minus ten...
> "OSI is history and I don't think we can get them
> reinstated; espionage and enforcement have been completely taken out
> of DoD's hands. There are possibilities in the CIA, or maybe the NSA
> or the IMF, although deniabilty is real low when you've got a motif as
> distinctive as the Bionic Six, and now more than ever deniability is
> the name of the game."
MMK: Deniability! By Milton Bradley!
> "MI-5 is too traditional and MI-6 is having budget problems as
> it is," I observed. "Maybe what we need to do is start a new agency.
GAVOK: The Men in Plaid.
> Independent contractors have been used for that kind of work before.
> I'm not talking about freelance operatives like us, who get hired from
> job to job like temp secretaries, I'm talking about whole third-party
> agencies who the Powers that Be
TBS <confused>: Ashby and McLees?
> work with 'cause they get the job
> done. The espionage equivalent of the difference between a lone
> bounty hunter and a well-organized merc army."
> "Isn't Spectrum like that?"
ARL <W. Morgan Clark>: This is the voice of the Mysterons. We know that you can hear us, Earthman.
> "More or less. Right now Spectrum Intel - the Rainbow Group -
> is part of the UN Intel Taskforce under Lethbridge-Stuart, along with
> Cammy's group from MI-6 and some special operatives from Interpol.
> The big anti-Shadolu task force. SHIELD is still independent, though.
GAVOK: YAY NICK FURY!
> So is International Rescue, come to think of it."
> "Should you even know about that UNIT thing?"
> "Don't see why not - I'm a reserve officer in Spectrum, lest
> you forget; I haven't been activated, but the last time I checked I
> still had Rainbow-level clearance.
SD: Just can't hide that pride, can you Zoner?
> But before you ask, no, Cammy
> didn't tell me. The Brigadier did, oddly enough. He's probably going
> to push Spectrum to activate me so he can draft me one of these days,
> since I work along those same lines anyway in my spare time."
> "Nice work if you can get it." Zoner considered. "If we did
> that, we'd have to get recognition from a couple of the big national
> agencies before anyone would take our new group seriously."
> "Yeah," I agreed. "I can talk to Admiral Messervey, Colonel
> White and Nick Fury, but you'll have to deal with NSA and IMF. It's
> certainly feasible -- look at International Rescue.
SD <singing>: R-E-S, C-U-E, Rescue Aid Society...
TBS: F.A.B.
> They go so far as
> to keep their identities secret, but they do good work, so nobody
> hassles them." I paused for a moment as a thought hit me. "Still, we
> have to keep in mind - we're never going to get anywhere without the
> cooperation of the CIA. You don't do anything in Western intel
> without at least the CIA's tacit approval."
> "Hmm... " Zoner sat back on the couch and lost himself in
> thought as we both pondered the big question:
GAVOK: Who in their right mind would want to buy a ticket to see Like Mike?
> who did we know in the
> CIA who would go for something this wild, and be senior enough to make
> his support meaningful?
MMK: The answer is, you guessed it, Frank Stallone.
> Click.
> I looked up and saw Zoner looking up at me.
> "Jim Greer," we said together.
> "*3," I said as Zoner grabbed the phone and started searching
> the end table for the Filofax.
> "Thanks," said Zoner, punching the speed-dial code.
> "It's 9:30 on a Saturday night," I pointed out. "He's
> probably not going to be in."
> "You never know," said Zoner. "Hi, yes. My name is Martin
> Zorn, I'd like to speak to Admiral Greer if he's available.
SD <secretary>: I'm sorry, he's married.
> Yes, I'll
> hold." There was a somewhat lengthy pause. "Jim? Marty Zorn. Is this
> line secure? Got a few minutes?"
>
> MZ
> "Yes, it's secure. Do you have any idea what time it is?" Jim
> Greer growled at me as I switched him to the speaker phone.
> "9:30," I replied. "What's that got to do with anything? The
> Eyes of Democracy never close in sleep."
MMK: They do take occasional catnaps, however.
> "True," Greer admitted gruffly, then relented. "All right, go
> ahead. I was just going over some old files and materials reqs
> anyway. What's on your mind?"
GAVOK <Zoner>: They call them "fingers" but I've never seen them "fing".
> "Can you pull your file on the Office of Scientific
> Intelligence, used to be part of DoD? They got shut down by the Bush
> administration in '91."
> "OSI? What do you want to know about them?" demanded
> Greer, a suspicious note creeping into his voice.
> "Not much, just the disposition of some of their personnel and
> equipment."
> "Damn it, Zoner, this isn't my lunch order you're asking for,
> you know."
> "I'm well aware of that, Admiral. That's why I called you."
> "You're up to something, aren't you." It wasn't a question.
> "You know us, Jim," Ben interjected. "Always thinking of ways
> to help our fellow human beings. Listen, when Bush shut down OSI a
> bunch of good people got screwed.
RACE <Zoner>: ...and I'm doing all this to make sure a great guy gets screwed, ifyaknowwhatImean.
> We're working on an angle to help
> them out, make it up to them a little, and we thought maybe you could
> give us a hand."
MMK <Ben>: We want you to feud with them until losing a cage match at the PPV and putting them over.
> There was a pause.
> "This is the United States Government you're talking about,"
> said Greer at length. "We don't -do- that sort of thing."
> "Oh, come on, Jim," I said. "You remember what you told me
> and Ryan back during that mess with the IRA? Sometimes you've got to
> forget about the procedures and do the Right Thing.
S.D. <MZ>: Screw federal law, I need you to do this so I can score!
> Look, just pull
> the files and read 'em, and you'll see what I mean. Read the files
> and then decide, OK?"
> "OK," Greer agreed. "But no promises!"
> "Got a pen?"
ARL <Greer>: That's classified!
> "I'm sitting at my desk, pen in hand, just waiting for you to
> call and give me more work to do."
> "Eternal vigilance," said Gryph, "is the price of liberty."
> "Give me the names," said Greer.
> "OK. Goldman, Oscar. G-O-L-D-M-A-N,
LOONS <chanting>: Goldmaaaaan... Goldmaaaaan...
> just like it sounds.
> Used to be the Director of OSI."
> "Mm hmm."
> "Wells, Dr. Rudy, probably short for Rudolph."
> "Rudy Wells the cyberneticist?"
> "The same. I take it you've heard of him."
> "He did some prosthetics work for the Air Force back in the
> seventies. Nothing ever came of it, as I recall."
> I shot Ben a bemused glance. "Sharp, Dr. Amadeus, that's
> A-M-A-D-E-U-S."
GAVOK: R-O-C-K M-E!
> "Him I've never heard of. Anyone else?"
> "Yes. Six more, all with the same last name, Bennett.
> B-E-N-N-E-T-T. Jack, probably a nickname for John; Helen; Eric; J.D.,
> I don't know what it stands for; Bunjiro; and... " It occurred to me
> that I didn't know if 'Meg' was short for something else. Probably.
> "... and Meg, probably short for Margaret or Megan or some such."
> There was a long pause and the sound of a pen scratching on
> paper.
RACE <paper>: Little lower... ah, right there. Great...
> "OK," said Greer. "I'll pull the files, I'll look them over,
> and then if I'm interested I'll call you and we'll talk about your
> plans. Fair enough?"
> "More than fair," I replied. "Talk to you soon."
> When I hung up, I noticed Gryph was looking thoughtful again;
> presently, he said, "You know, we should probably consider the
> possibility that we're not going to be able to recruit the rest of
> them. From what Meg was telling us, it sounds to me like her brothers
> have their own lives, and it wouldn't surprise me if her parents were
> enjoying their retirement."
> I shrugged. The thought had occurred to me, but what could I
> do about it either way? Not much.
> Wait.
> Jack Bennett.
> My brain did another of those tickle things. I knew that
> name. Where did I know that name from? Argh! I'm terrible with
> names.
TBS: Ooh! I know! He did the voices of Owen, and Brooklyn, and the Archmage!
MMK: That's *Jeff* Bennett.
TBS: Then he must be one of the cast of the original "Dark Shadows".
GAVOK: That's *Joan* Bennett.
[Anyone wanna continue this? -z]
> The next two hours crawled past. I refrained from biting my
> nails, and watched some show about war on the Discovery Channel ("All
> Hitler, all the time").
ARL: Actually, that would be the History Channel. Which makes sense when you think about it; the logo's a giant gilded "H", what else could it stand for? Besides that, Race.
> Gryph, the picture of unconcern, sprawled on
> the other couch reading his book. In his head he was probably
> composing his pitch to Colonel White.
> The phone rang. I think I may have picked it up before the
> bell actually started ringing.
> "Jim Greer," said that unmistakable voice. "Where did you get
> this list of people? Those last six are especially interesting, in a
> you-shouldn't-know-about-them sort of way."
GAVOK <Zoner>: I could tell you, but then you'd have to kill me. I mean...
> "Oh, come on, Jim, you're not going to start splitting
> clearances -now-, are you?"
> Greer made an irritated rumbling noise, then relented. "All
> right, I'm assuming you know that the Bennett family used to be
> special operatives."
> "Yes, I know about the Bionic Six."
> "OK, then. Are you going to tell me what you're up to?"
TBS <Terry Jones>: Well, I'm up to about page 39, where Peter Pan first mannyfests 'imself.
> "I know Meg, aka Rock-1, and she isn't dealing with the whole
> 'back to a normal life' thing very well. She didn't have anything to
> fall back on; I'm worried about her."
> "And?"
> "Well, I want to help her out."
> "And?"
> "OK, I was thinking of setting up a front agency for her to
> work for, get some of their gear back, find out what the good doctors
> are up to, etc., etc."
> Greer sighed. "You can't leave well enough alone, can you."
> "Not when good people get screwed.
RACE <MZ>: Or when good people *could* get screwed. Heh heh...
ARL: Alright Race, Zoner's doing this so he can get laid. Now shut up.
> I'd rather do this without
> having to watch my back the whole time, but either way... So, can you
> help?"
> He took on a cautious tone. "What do you need from me?"
> "First, I need you to stay out of it. I don't want the CIA to
> shut this operation down. The way I look at it, it isn't a threat and
> it may turn into a valuable resource."
ARL: So you think that, even though you're setting up a barely-legal
mercenary-slash-special forces organization both behind the government's back AND under its nose, they're going to be alright with it?
SD: Of course they are. It's *Gryphon*.
> "OK."
> "Second, I'll need to know the locations of the good doctors
> Wells and Sharp, and any remaining equipment."
> "Your secured fax still the same?"
> "Yes, and the scrambler code is up to date as of last
> Thursday."
> "All right, you'll have that data shortly. And you didn't get
> it from me, you hear? When you're done with it, burn it."
> "Loud and clear, roger wilco. One more thing."
> "Naturally. What would it be?" He had that 'uh-oh' tone in
> his voice.
SD <Greer>: He knows I killed Hoffa, doesn't he.
MMK: Ah, Jim Greer Tone #17.
> "If you get other agencies poking around about this, can you
> deflect them for us?"
> "Ohh, no," said Greer in his 'now that's going too far' tone.
MMK: Greer Tone #57!
TBS: I thought that was the "my coffee tastes funny" tone.
MMK: That's #47.
TBS: Ah.
> "The Company is not going to get burned on this one. I'll do what I
> can, but if they catch on, your on you're own. Understand?"
> "Completely."
> "Mr. Hutchins?"
> "Yeah?" Ben replied.
> "Do -you- understand?"
MMK: The part of Greer will be played by Benimaru.
> "I just go where Zoner tells me to and hit the people that
> have to be hit, Jim. Hired muscle with no opinions."
> "Try to be serious, if only for a moment, will you?" came
> Greer's voice, weary-sounding.
> "If you insist. Yes, I understand. Skirting the corners of
> national security is always a chancy business. If we screw up, you'll
> throw us to the wolves. All right?"
MMK: Fury can probably negotiate with the wolves anyway.
TBS <Gaspode the Wonder Dog>: Wolves mate for life, right?
S.D. <lady wolf>: Vell?
TBS <Gaspode>: Wish *I* could.
> "Good enough. Gentlemen?"
> "Yes?" we chimed.
> "Good luck."
> "Thanks." And with that the connection dropped. The fax
> beeped almost immediately.
> "Well, I guess we should start making some calls."
> "Why don't we wait until morning," said Ben. "I hardly think
> anyone will be very favorable at, close to midnight on a Saturday.
> Let alone the Brits - it's what, 5 AM there? I can never remember if
> they do daylight savings time. At any rate, M. might be up, but I
> doubt he wants to talk shop that early in the morning."
> "Yeah, you're right. (They do.)
TBS: But I think they call it Summer Time.
> Ah, it'll give us more time
> to go over this data anyway. Here, this is the stuff on the
> scientists... why don't you talk to them tomorrow. I'll see what I
> can do about the equipment. And, of course, we'll have to talk to a
> few agencies. I'll see what I can do on their systems. If we're
> lucky we'll have all of them thinking the others are behind it."
[There's a riff there, but I can't remember the right line of dialogue to make it with. -z]
> "Yeah, and if we're not they'll all be looking at us."
> "Ah, you have to have the right attitude."
> Ben just glared at me.
> "I'm about to violate the National Security Act and who knows
> what other important laws so you can impress some chick you met at a
> music festival, and you're talking about 'the right attitude'."
> I shrugged.
> "Well, fine," he said, getting up. "I'm going to bed.
> There's no sense violating Federal law without sufficient rest."
MMK: Somewhere in Liberty City, a nameless wheelman has a motivational poster with that phrase on his wall...
> MZ
> I didn't pay much attention as Ben related his tale. I knew
> it all by now anyway, and he was leaving out a lot of the good bits.
ARL <Zoner>: But that's what the DVD is for.
> My mind was drifting on the topic of finding funds for Meg.
S.D.: Oh, slick. Win her heart with money.
> I know
> what you're thinking:
MMK <Zoner>: 10 CDs for a dollar? No way!
> "Oh, slick. Win her heart with money." You
> should be ashamed.
S.D.: Don't you *dare* put me on a guilt trip, Zoner!
ARL: He can't hear you, Shady.
S.D.: Look, just... don't start with me, alright?
> The money had nothing to do with it. I just hate
> seeing cool people get a raw deal, and if I can rectify that in some
> way, good.
S.D.: ...hey, *wait* a sec.
RACE: Huh?
S.D.: This isn't Legacy Zoner, it's Symphony Zoner! He's got the 'give lots of money to hot young women I've known for maybe ten minutes cumulatively, minus the attempts at comedy' schtick down *pat*! Just give Meg color-coded hair, and it *is* SotS.
RACE: You know *far* too much about Eyrie.
{More? Edit? ~S.D.}
> And while I felt like a nervous schoolboy hoping the
> object of his crush would give him the time of day, I wouldn't want
> anyone to like me because of what I did for them. If Meg was going to
> like me I wanted it to be because of me. Yeah, I tend to get myself
> into weird mental Mobius loops a lot.
TBS: Then he has to run around really fast and get a bunch of emeralds together to stop a really fat guy from taking over a world populated entirely by furries.
S.D. <singing, fast>: Just like a circle in a spiral like a wheel within a wheel...
> But while the personal matter was out of my control, the
> professional was not. Meg would have to decide on her own if that was
> what she wanted. I would never pressure anyone into a decision like
> that; it isn't fair. But if that is what she wanted, then I would do
> what I could to get it for her.
GAVOK <Zoner>: So I would walk five hundred miles. And I would walk five hundred more. Just to be the man who'd walk a thousand miles and fall down at that door.
> And I was fairly confident that I
> could do it.
RACE <Zoner>: Because I'm good enough, I'm smart enough, and doggone it, people like me!
{Minor edits to fit that skit, but I don't think 'smart' is right... ~S.D.}
> She seemed to be doing what I had done.
TBS: She was getting a tattoo of Spongebob Squarepants on her backside.
> Going to school for
> music seems like a natural course for her, after all, but I could tell
> her heart wasn't really into it. I did the same thing. I loved
> aircraft, I loved to fly, and I had an aptitude for engineering;
S.D.: He had a spanner, a nailgun, some EMP grenades...
GAVOK: ...and karma.
> so it
> seemed natural to major in Aerospace Engineering. Except I found it
> bored me to tears. The hard part was realizing that in the first
> place. I thought it was me, that I just wasn't cut out for college.
> Once I wised up to the root of the problem and changed majors, I had a
> much better time and actually enjoyed what I was doing. Sure, so I
> ended up with a double major in Technical Writing and History. It
> isn't all that unusual for people to have careers in areas completely
> unrelated to their degrees.
RACE <Ryu>: I swear by my computer programming degree that I will become the greatest fighter ever!
> Besides, the History degree comes in
> handy at times on our trips.
GAVOK: Ah. Zoner hangs out with Peabody.
S.D. <Zoner>: Hey Gryph, do you realize that wall you're smashing that mook's head into was constructed in the sixteenth centry to defend against-
ARL <Gryphon>: Not *now*, Zoner...
> So I never got that aerospace degree. But I still loved
> aircraft. Aircraft? Something in the back of my mind was awakening.
TBS <Zoner>: It was late for work and had a breakfast burrito.
> Wait, didn't the Bionic Six have a plane? What was it? I remember
> looking at it almost as much as (ok, more than, I'm a geek) Rock-1. I
> had a big poster of it, an "artist's interpretation", big white and
> red B-1-like plane chasing an F-4,
ARL: Miss.
{Continue this Battleship skit? ~S.D.}
> and while I was mentally picturing
> that poster something in my mind went
> click.
GAVOK <John Cleese>: Ah, I see Zoner has a mind that goes "click!"
> "Sky Dancer!"
??? <singing>: Fly for me, fly for me, Sky Dancers fly for me!
S.D. <singing, Japanese>: Toui sora no mannaka de/Dareka o matteiru...
MMK: That's Sky *Dreamer*.
{Continue? ~S.D.}
> Having been interrupted by a seemingly unrelated exclamation,
> Ben looked understandably puzzled. Meg was momentarily startled, but
> recovered quickly.
> "What about it?"
> "Whatever happened to it?"
> "Beats me. Last I saw of it the government was taking it
> away.
S.D. <Meg>: They say it knew too much.
MMK <singing, nasally>: Take it awaaay, 'cause it just don't wanna stay, and the lies you make it saaay are gettin' deeper every day...
> They pretty much cleaned out the SPL when they let us all go.
> They loaded Sky Dancer up with the Mule
???: ...who rewrote Zoner and Gryphon's minds so that they were totally loyal to him, then took over the universe, only to be stopped at the last minute by *another* smarmy overpowered bastard. The End.
> and the rest of our gear and
> flew it out. I haven't seen it since then. Why?" We had left Ben
> far behind; he had no clue what we were talking about. But he seemed
> comfortable, knowing he'd be sucked into it in the end - whatever it
> was.
GAVOK <Ben>: What's the Sky Dancer?
MMK <Zoner>: Goddammit, Ben! Not everything begins and ends when you say it does! You're out of your element!
S.D. <Meg>: So anyway...
GAVOK <Ben>: I am the Walrus.
MMK <Zoner>: Shut the fuck up, Ben! You're out of your element!
S.D. <Meg>: Fuck it. Let's bowl.
> "Well, it seems a shame to let such a fine aircraft go to
> waste. Maybe we could find it. And if we find it we may find the
> rest of your gear."
S.D.: ...then you can fix it nanomachines and drive it around between the half-hour long shots of the main characters sitting in the spotlight.
[This may be far too bitter... -RoP]
{It may be, but I'm not quite sure what I'm *saying* there, so it's hard to tell. ^_^;; ~S.D.}
>
> G
> Zoner had that gleam in his eyes that meant I was going to get
> sucked into this mess whether or not I wanted to. He had a mission,
> and by God nothing was going to stand in his way.
RACE <Zoner>: I'M UNSTOPPABLE!
GAVOK <Cosgrove>: Hey Zoner, want to see a bear ride a motorcycle?
TBS <MZ>: Do I ever!! Let's ROLL!!
> When he got his
> teeth around the bit there was no stopping him.
MMK <Zoner>: This Proton Energy Pill gives me the power of 10 atom bombs in 10 seconds!
> Besides, I didn't
> have anything on the agenda for the excruciatingly near future.
ARL <Gryphon>: Wait, Iron Chef is on... DAMN it!
> Meg looked uncertain -- understandable, really. Zoner's plans
> always sound like harebrained schemes, mainly because they're
> harebrained schemes. We almost always manage to pull it together,
> though.
> Just about then the food arrived, effectively ending that
> branch of conversation. I could tell Zoner was still thinking about
> it, though; he always gets a bit distant when he's running a major
> background job.
TBS: He might need more RAM.
RACE: Believe me, with Meg in the story, Zoner's going to get all the RAM he needs...
> Instead of duplicating his effort, I mulled over what she had
> told me. Something about it was nagging at me, something had popped
> up a red flag in my memory, but I hadn't been able to pin down what it
> was. I ran through the story again in my head, and then lit on what
> had rung the mental bell.
TBS <Gryphon>: Then I gave it a mental cookie.
MMK: Food for thought?
[ALL groan.]
> "Hey, Meg... did you say you had a brother named Bunji?"
> She blinked at me, then said, "Yeah. Like I said, he's in
> Hong Kong."
> "Is that short for 'Bunjiro'?"
> "Yeah, it is, why?"
> "Well, can you beat that? I know him.
ARL <Zoner>: I met Burt Ward at a gas station.
TBS <Ben>: Damn!
> Well, I've -met- him,
> I know him to say 'hi' to."
> "Really? How'd you meet him?"
GAVOK <Ben>: We played Russian Roulette together.
> "Last time I hit a tournament in Hong Kong he was there," I
> replied. "Not fighting, just watching. He hangs out with Fei Long,
> the kung fu champ." The last time I was in Hong Kong I fought Fei
> Long, and beat him narrowly, with about as much luck as skill;
RACE: And about as much plot contriving as luck and skill *combined*...
> neither
> of us were World Warriors at the time, but he had trained even harder
> after that defeat and had reached the bracket six months before me.
> Zoner blinked. "Oh yeah! The guy who worked Fei Long's
> corner -was- named Bunjiro, wasn't he? I forgot all about it."
> Meg nodded. "Fei Long is helping Bunji get his movie career
> off the ground.
MMK <Norm MacDonald>: Hey, I know what it's called! Box Office Poison!
> He was a big action star before he started street
> fighting. I guess you could say he's Bunji's mentor."
> "Small world, isn't it?"
>
> Our meal over, we hit the awkward stage of the day:
RACE <Ben>: For some reason we agreed that we'd bathe together once every day.
> going our
> separate ways. Evening was hinting at the possibility that it might
> be considering the ramifications of starting to gather in the eastern
> sky,
ARL: "It was getting dark."
> and Zoner and I were heading back to Worcester. Zoner gave Meg
> one of his cards;
S.D. <Meg>: "How to play Black Jack"?
[OR]
S.D. <Meg>: Ooh, a foil Mirari...
> she took another from him, scribbled her number on
> the back of it and returned it,
ARL <Zoner>: 212-479-7990? You've got the same number as the last girl I met...
> then waved off his offer of a lift
> back into town.
> "Driving in Boston with this landmass? I don't think so.
> We're right next to the station, I'll just take the T."
> "Well... if you're sure."
> "Relax, I ride the T all the time. I know a thing or two
> about self-defense," she said with a grin.
S.D.: She knows Jeet Kune Do, Tae Bo, Muai Thai and seventeen other names of martial arts styles!
[Could use rephrasing...]
> Zoner chuckled. "OK," he said, "but be careful."
> "I will." She stepped up to Zoner and did her best to kiss
> his cheek. "Call me."
> "Count on it. And think about my offer," he added.
> "I will, seriously. Nice meeting you, too, Gryphon."
> "It was lovely meeting you, too, and I'm glad you're feeling
> much better," I said. "You're still very pale, though. You need more
> sun."
{I want to put a vampire joke here, but I'm blanking... ~S.D.}
> "You're silly," she said. "I don't even play the cello.
RACE <Zoner>: Uh, what? I said, "You're still very pale, though! You need more sun!"
> Bye!"
> It took me a moment to realize that she had not only parsed my
> reference but come around the back side of it,
ARL: That's nice. Do you mind telling us what the hell it means?
> and by then, she was
> across the street and heading into the big gray bulk of the station,
> past the big silver disc with the 'T' knocked out of it they have
> standing out by the bus stops.
> "You know," I declared as I watched the glass doors close
> behind her, "I believe I like that girl."
> "Yeah," murmured Zoner absently.
>
MMK <Zoner as George>: All right, love...whatever love wants. Just don't start in on the bit, that's all.
> We drove home in relative silence; Zoner was still mulling
> over his offer to Meg, and for that matter, so was I. It had been a
> remarkably weird day, but, oddly enough, not our weirdest. When we
> got home, I took Fury for a romp in the park as a reward for staying
> home all day. Fascist hotel administrators, not allowing pets.
GAVOK: Particularly not allowing FURY!
LOONS: YAY FURY!
> Maybe
> I should feign blindness. With a bloodhound? Probably wouldn't
> work... them hotel administrators is smart.
> When we returned, panting and damp, an hour later,
MMK: You know, if you thought about it, that sentence could sound really wrong...
[A beat. S.D. and RACE twitch.]
MMK <^_^ing>: Ah, you thought about it, didn't you? I warned you, but did you listen? Nooo...
S.D.: I'm sending all my therapy bills to you, Knight.
> he was in
> the same position on the couch. It had gotten fully dark, but he had
> been too busy thinking to turn on any lights, so I did it before
> heading to the master bathroom for a shower. When I came back from
> that, wearing old sweats and scrubbing at my hair with a towel, he was
> still there, staring into space. Fury was sitting next to the couch,
> regarding him as one might regard a particularly intriguing piece of
> statuary,
ARL: Like Rodin's lost masterpiece "The Mary Sue"?
S.D.: Oh my God! *The lost Monet!*
{...feel free to switch 'Monet' for a famous sculptor; it's a ref but I can't think of a better person. ~S.D.}
> but he lost interest when I entered the room, deciding to
> curl up instead next to my armchair.
> I had been thinking about the same things as Zoner, so I
> figured it was time to offer my input.
> "Before you plan the sneak, we should figure out how we're
> going to cover our collective ass."
TBS: "Collective ass?" This is some sort of Commie thing, isn't it?
> He jumped. Apparently he hadn't realized I was sitting there.
> "Huh?" he said, his train of thought derailed.
> "I said," I repeated, "'Before you plan the sneak, we should
> figure out how we're going to cover our collective ass.'"
> He smiled. "You're in, then?"
> "If we do it right," I replied, leaning back and dropping a
> hand to scratch at Fury's ears. "I'm not interested in boosting
> expensive experimental stuff from the government and getting plastered
> all over the wanted lists, but if we can figure out a way to do it at
> least semi-official-like, I have no objection to rounding up some
> equipment and the like."
ARL: So you have no problems stealing top-secret military equipment, so long as you don't get caught. You're a real bastion of morality, you know that?
> "Yeah, that's the angle I've been trying to figure," Zoner
> admitted.
RACE <Zoner>: This one's 2x plus 20, and the ones around it are 3x plus 10, x plus 50 and 5x minus ten...
> "OSI is history and I don't think we can get them
> reinstated; espionage and enforcement have been completely taken out
> of DoD's hands. There are possibilities in the CIA, or maybe the NSA
> or the IMF, although deniabilty is real low when you've got a motif as
> distinctive as the Bionic Six, and now more than ever deniability is
> the name of the game."
MMK: Deniability! By Milton Bradley!
> "MI-5 is too traditional and MI-6 is having budget problems as
> it is," I observed. "Maybe what we need to do is start a new agency.
GAVOK: The Men in Plaid.
> Independent contractors have been used for that kind of work before.
> I'm not talking about freelance operatives like us, who get hired from
> job to job like temp secretaries, I'm talking about whole third-party
> agencies who the Powers that Be
TBS <confused>: Ashby and McLees?
> work with 'cause they get the job
> done. The espionage equivalent of the difference between a lone
> bounty hunter and a well-organized merc army."
> "Isn't Spectrum like that?"
ARL <W. Morgan Clark>: This is the voice of the Mysterons. We know that you can hear us, Earthman.
> "More or less. Right now Spectrum Intel - the Rainbow Group -
> is part of the UN Intel Taskforce under Lethbridge-Stuart, along with
> Cammy's group from MI-6 and some special operatives from Interpol.
> The big anti-Shadolu task force. SHIELD is still independent, though.
GAVOK: YAY NICK FURY!
> So is International Rescue, come to think of it."
> "Should you even know about that UNIT thing?"
> "Don't see why not - I'm a reserve officer in Spectrum, lest
> you forget; I haven't been activated, but the last time I checked I
> still had Rainbow-level clearance.
S.D.: Just can't hide that pride, can you Zoner?
TBS: Rainbow? Is that better than Ultraviolet or worse than Infrared?
ARL: It's Zoner. Rainbow's higher than the *Computer's* clearance.
> But before you ask, no, Cammy
> didn't tell me. The Brigadier did, oddly enough. He's probably going
> to push Spectrum to activate me so he can draft me one of these days,
> since I work along those same lines anyway in my spare time."
> "Nice work if you can get it." Zoner considered. "If we did
> that, we'd have to get recognition from a couple of the big national
> agencies before anyone would take our new group seriously."
> "Yeah," I agreed. "I can talk to Admiral Messervey, Colonel
> White and Nick Fury, but you'll have to deal with NSA and IMF. It's
> certainly feasible -- look at International Rescue.
S.D. <singing>: R-E-S, C-U-E, Rescue Aid Society...
TBS: F.A.B.
> They go so far as
> to keep their identities secret, but they do good work, so nobody
> hassles them." I paused for a moment as a thought hit me. "Still, we
> have to keep in mind - we're never going to get anywhere without the
> cooperation of the CIA. You don't do anything in Western intel
> without at least the CIA's tacit approval."
> "Hmm... " Zoner sat back on the couch and lost himself in
> thought as we both pondered the big question:
GAVOK: Who in their right mind would want to buy a ticket to see Like Mike?
> who did we know in the
> CIA who would go for something this wild, and be senior enough to make
> his support meaningful?
MMK: The answer is, you guessed it, Frank Stallone.
> Click.
> I looked up and saw Zoner looking up at me.
> "Jim Greer," we said together.
> "*3," I said as Zoner grabbed the phone and started searching
> the end table for the Filofax.
> "Thanks," said Zoner, punching the speed-dial code.
> "It's 9:30 on a Saturday night," I pointed out. "He's
> probably not going to be in."
> "You never know," said Zoner. "Hi, yes. My name is Martin
> Zorn, I'd like to speak to Admiral Greer if he's available.
S.D. <secretary>: I'm sorry, he's married.
> Yes, I'll
> hold." There was a somewhat lengthy pause. "Jim? Marty Zorn. Is this
> line secure? Got a few minutes?"
>
> MZ
> "Yes, it's secure. Do you have any idea what time it is?" Jim
> Greer growled at me as I switched him to the speaker phone.
> "9:30," I replied. "What's that got to do with anything? The
> Eyes of Democracy never close in sleep."
MMK: They do take occasional catnaps, however.
> "True," Greer admitted gruffly, then relented. "All right, go
> ahead. I was just going over some old files and materials reqs
> anyway. What's on your mind?"
GAVOK <Zoner>: They call them "fingers" but I've never seen them "fing".
> "Can you pull your file on the Office of Scientific
> Intelligence, used to be part of DoD? They got shut down by the Bush
> administration in '91."
> "OSI? What do you want to know about them?" demanded
> Greer, a suspicious note creeping into his voice.
> "Not much, just the disposition of some of their personnel and
> equipment."
> "Damn it, Zoner, this isn't my lunch order you're asking for,
> you know."
> "I'm well aware of that, Admiral. That's why I called you."
> "You're up to something, aren't you." It wasn't a question.
> "You know us, Jim," Ben interjected. "Always thinking of ways
> to help our fellow human beings. Listen, when Bush shut down OSI a
> bunch of good people got screwed.
RACE <Zoner>: ...and I'm doing all this to make sure a great guy gets screwed, ifyaknowwhatImean.
> We're working on an angle to help
> them out, make it up to them a little, and we thought maybe you could
> give us a hand."
MMK <Ben>: We want you to feud with them until losing a cage match at the PPV and putting them over.
> There was a pause.
> "This is the United States Government you're talking about,"
> said Greer at length. "We don't -do- that sort of thing."
> "Oh, come on, Jim," I said. "You remember what you told me
> and Ryan
S.D.: ...tell me this isn't going to take a left turn into Canada getting invaded by Hello Kitties.
> back during that mess with the IRA? Sometimes you've got to
> forget about the procedures and do the Right Thing.
RACE <MZ>: Screw federal law, I need you to do this so I can score!
> Look, just pull
> the files and read 'em, and you'll see what I mean. Read the files
> and then decide, OK?"
> "OK," Greer agreed. "But no promises!"
> "Got a pen?"
ARL <Greer>: That's classified!
> "I'm sitting at my desk, pen in hand, just waiting for you to
> call and give me more work to do."
> "Eternal vigilance," said Gryph, "is the price of liberty."
> "Give me the names," said Greer.
> "OK. Goldman, Oscar. G-O-L-D-M-A-N,
LOONS <chanting>: Goldmaaaaan... Goldmaaaaan...
> just like it sounds.
> Used to be the Director of OSI."
> "Mm hmm."
> "Wells, Dr. Rudy, probably short for Rudolph."
> "Rudy Wells the cyberneticist?"
> "The same. I take it you've heard of him."
> "He did some prosthetics work for the Air Force back in the
> seventies. Nothing ever came of it, as I recall."
> I shot Ben a bemused glance. "Sharp, Dr. Amadeus, that's
> A-M-A-D-E-U-S."
GAVOK: R-O-C-K M-E!
> "Him I've never heard of. Anyone else?"
> "Yes. Six more, all with the same last name, Bennett.
> B-E-N-N-E-T-T. Jack, probably a nickname for John; Helen; Eric; J.D.,
> I don't know what it stands for; Bunjiro; and... " It occurred to me
> that I didn't know if 'Meg' was short for something else. Probably.
> "... and Meg, probably short for Margaret or Megan or some such."
> There was a long pause and the sound of a pen scratching on
> paper.
RACE <paper>: Little lower... ah, right there. Great...
> "OK," said Greer. "I'll pull the files, I'll look them over,
> and then if I'm interested I'll call you and we'll talk about your
> plans. Fair enough?"
> "More than fair," I replied. "Talk to you soon."
> When I hung up, I noticed Gryph was looking thoughtful again;
> presently, he said, "You know, we should probably consider the
> possibility that we're not going to be able to recruit the rest of
> them. From what Meg was telling us, it sounds to me like her brothers
> have their own lives, and it wouldn't surprise me if her parents were
> enjoying their retirement."
> I shrugged. The thought had occurred to me, but what could I
> do about it either way? Not much.
> Wait.
> Jack Bennett.
> My brain did another of those tickle things. I knew that
> name. Where did I know that name from? Argh! I'm terrible with
> names.
TBS: Ooh! I know! He did the voices of Owen, and Brooklyn, and the Archmage!
MMK: That's *Jeff* Bennett.
TBS: Then he must be one of the cast of the original "Dark Shadows".
GAVOK: That's *Joan* Bennett.
[Anyone wanna continue this? -z]
> The next two hours crawled past. I refrained from biting my
> nails, and watched some show about war on the Discovery Channel ("All
> Hitler, all the time").
ARL: Actually, that would be the History Channel. Which makes sense when you think about it; the logo's a giant gilded "H", what else could it stand for? Besides that, Race.
> Gryph, the picture of unconcern, sprawled on
> the other couch reading his book. In his head he was probably
> composing his pitch to Colonel White.
> The phone rang. I think I may have picked it up before the
> bell actually started ringing.
> "Jim Greer," said that unmistakable voice. "Where did you get
> this list of people? Those last six are especially interesting, in a
> you-shouldn't-know-about-them sort of way."
GAVOK <Zoner>: I could tell you, but then you'd have to kill me. I mean...
> "Oh, come on, Jim, you're not going to start splitting
> clearances -now-, are you?"
> Greer made an irritated rumbling noise, then relented. "All
> right, I'm assuming you know that the Bennett family used to be
> special operatives."
> "Yes, I know about the Bionic Six."
> "OK, then. Are you going to tell me what you're up to?"
TBS <Terry Jones>: Well, I'm up to about page 39, where Peter Pan first mannyfests 'imself.
> "I know Meg, aka Rock-1, and she isn't dealing with the whole
> 'back to a normal life' thing very well. She didn't have anything to
> fall back on; I'm worried about her."
> "And?"
> "Well, I want to help her out."
> "And?"
> "OK, I was thinking of setting up a front agency for her to
> work for, get some of their gear back, find out what the good doctors
> are up to, etc., etc."
> Greer sighed. "You can't leave well enough alone, can you."
> "Not when good people get screwed.
RACE <MZ>: Or when good people *could* get screwed. Heh heh...
ARL: Alright Race, Zoner's doing this so he can get laid. Now shut up.
> I'd rather do this without
> having to watch my back the whole time, but either way... So, can you
> help?"
> He took on a cautious tone. "What do you need from me?"
> "First, I need you to stay out of it. I don't want the CIA to
> shut this operation down. The way I look at it, it isn't a threat and
> it may turn into a valuable resource."
ARL: So you think that, even though you're setting up a barely-legal
mercenary-slash-special forces organization both behind the government's back AND under its nose, they're going to be all right with it?
S.D.: Of course they are. It's *Gryphon*. The only time any Earth government got mad at him, all they managed to do besides fuck themselves was blow up the Enterprise in such a way as to both rip off and preclude 'Star Trek: Generations'. [pause] Not that that's a *bad* thing, mind you.
> "OK."
> "Second, I'll need to know the locations of the good doctors
> Wells and Sharp, and any remaining equipment."
> "Your secured fax still the same?"
> "Yes, and the scrambler code is up to date as of last
> Thursday."
> "All right, you'll have that data shortly. And you didn't get
> it from me, you hear? When you're done with it, burn it."
> "Loud and clear, roger wilco. One more thing."
> "Naturally. What would it be?" He had that 'uh-oh' tone in
> his voice.
S.D. <Greer>: He knows I killed Hoffa, doesn't he.
MMK: Ah, Jim Greer Tone #17.
> "If you get other agencies poking around about this, can you
> deflect them for us?"
> "Ohh, no," said Greer in his 'now that's going too far' tone.
MMK: Greer Tone #57!
TBS: I thought that was the "my coffee tastes funny" tone.
MMK: That's #47.
TBS: Ah.
> "The Company is not going to get burned on this one. I'll do what I
> can, but if they catch on, your on you're own. Understand?"
> "Completely."
> "Mr. Hutchins?"
> "Yeah?" Ben replied.
> "Do -you- understand?"
MMK: The part of Greer will be played by Benimaru.
> "I just go where Zoner tells me to and hit the people that
> have to be hit, Jim. Hired muscle with no opinions."
> "Try to be serious, if only for a moment, will you?" came
> Greer's voice, weary-sounding.
> "If you insist. Yes, I understand. Skirting the corners of
> national security is always a chancy business. If we screw up, you'll
> throw us to the wolves. All right?"
MMK: Fury can probably negotiate with the wolves anyway.
TBS <Gaspode the Wonder Dog>: Wolves mate for life, right?
S.D. <lady wolf>: Vell?
TBS <Gaspode>: Wish *I* could.
> "Good enough. Gentlemen?"
> "Yes?" we chimed.
> "Good luck."
> "Thanks." And with that the connection dropped. The fax
> beeped almost immediately.
> "Well, I guess we should start making some calls."
> "Why don't we wait until morning," said Ben. "I hardly think
> anyone will be very favorable at, close to midnight on a Saturday.
> Let alone the Brits - it's what, 5 AM there? I can never remember if
> they do daylight savings time. At any rate, M. might be up, but I
> doubt he wants to talk shop that early in the morning."
> "Yeah, you're right. (They do.)
TBS: But I think they call it Summer Time.
> Ah, it'll give us more time
> to go over this data anyway. Here, this is the stuff on the
> scientists... why don't you talk to them tomorrow. I'll see what I
> can do about the equipment. And, of course, we'll have to talk to a
> few agencies. I'll see what I can do on their systems. If we're
> lucky we'll have all of them thinking the others are behind it."
[There's a riff there, but I can't remember the right line of dialogue to make it with. -z]
> "Yeah, and if we're not they'll all be looking at us."
> "Ah, you have to have the right attitude."
> Ben just glared at me.
> "I'm about to violate the National Security Act and who knows
> what other important laws so you can impress some chick you met at a
> music festival, and you're talking about 'the right attitude'."
> I shrugged.
> "Well, fine," he said, getting up. "I'm going to bed.
> There's no sense violating Federal law without sufficient rest."
MMK: Somewhere in Liberty City, a nameless wheelman has a motivational poster with that phrase on his wall...
> "Well, it seems a shame to let such a fine aircraft go to
> waste. Maybe we could find it. And if we find it we may find the
> rest of your gear."
S.D.: ...then you can fix it nanomachines and drive it around between the half-hour long shots of the main characters sitting in the spotlight.
[This may be far too bitter... -RoP]
{It may be, but I'm not quite sure what I'm *saying* there, so it's hard to tell. ^_^;; ~S.D.}
It's a Xenogears reference. Nanomachines are one of the game's many deus ex machina, used to "improve" and alter damn near *everything,* and the game has long, meandering, boring scenes with characters sitting in chairs under spotlights, expositing what happens (it's so *nice* to be able to *read* what you do in a game rather than *play* it, isn't it?).
Sorry if you take offense at my using your person-dudine-avatar-thingy to channel my [[HATE]] of the game... and that should've been "fix it WITH nanomachines." Damn aversion to prepositions...
--RoPOH
"Hey, useless "improvements," deus ex machinae, long, boring scenes... Xenogears was made by Hutchins!"
> MZ
> I didn't pay much attention as Ben related his tale. I knew
> it all by now anyway, and he was leaving out a lot of the good bits.
ARL <Zoner>: But that's what the DVD is for.
> My mind was drifting on the topic of finding funds for Meg.
S.D.: Oh, slick. Win her heart with money.
> I know
> what you're thinking:
MMK <Zoner>: 10 CDs for a dollar? No way!
> "Oh, slick. Win her heart with money." You
> should be ashamed.
S.D.: Don't you *dare* put me on a guilt trip, Zoner!
ARL: He can't hear you, Shady.
S.D.: Look, just... don't start with me, alright?
> The money had nothing to do with it. I just hate
> seeing cool people get a raw deal, and if I can rectify that in some
> way, good.
S.D.: ...hey, *wait* a sec.
RACE: Huh?
S.D.: This isn't Legacy Zoner, it's Symphony Zoner! He's got the 'give lots of money to hot young women I've known for maybe ten minutes cumulatively, minus the attempts at comedy' schtick down *pat*! Just give Meg color-coded hair, and it *is* SotS.
RACE: You know *far* too much about Eyrie.
{More? Edit? ~S.D.}
> And while I felt like a nervous schoolboy hoping the
> object of his crush would give him the time of day, I wouldn't want
> anyone to like me because of what I did for them. If Meg was going to
> like me I wanted it to be because of me. Yeah, I tend to get myself
> into weird mental Mobius loops a lot.
TBS: Then he has to run around really fast and get a bunch of emeralds together to stop a really fat guy from taking over a world populated entirely by furries.
S.D. <singing, fast>: Just like a circle in a spiral like a wheel within a wheel...
> But while the personal matter was out of my control, the
> professional was not. Meg would have to decide on her own if that was
> what she wanted. I would never pressure anyone into a decision like
> that; it isn't fair. But if that is what she wanted, then I would do
> what I could to get it for her.
GAVOK <Zoner>: So I would walk five hundred miles. And I would walk five hundred more. Just to be the man who'd walk a thousand miles and fall down at that door.
> And I was fairly confident that I
> could do it.
RACE <Zoner>: Because I'm good enough, I'm smart enough, and doggone it, people like me!
{Minor edits to fit that skit, but I don't think 'smart' is right... ~S.D.}
> She seemed to be doing what I had done.
TBS: She was getting a tattoo of Spongebob Squarepants on her backside.
> Going to school for
> music seems like a natural course for her, after all, but I could tell
> her heart wasn't really into it. I did the same thing. I loved
> aircraft, I loved to fly, and I had an aptitude for engineering;
S.D.: He had a spanner, a nailgun, some EMP grenades...
GAVOK: ...and karma.
> so it
> seemed natural to major in Aerospace Engineering. Except I found it
> bored me to tears. The hard part was realizing that in the first
> place. I thought it was me, that I just wasn't cut out for college.
> Once I wised up to the root of the problem and changed majors, I had a
> much better time and actually enjoyed what I was doing. Sure, so I
> ended up with a double major in Technical Writing and History. It
> isn't all that unusual for people to have careers in areas completely
> unrelated to their degrees.
RACE <Ryu>: I swear by my computer programming degree that I will become the greatest fighter ever!
> Besides, the History degree comes in
> handy at times on our trips.
GAVOK: Ah. Zoner hangs out with Peabody.
S.D. <Zoner>: Hey Gryph, do you realize that wall you're smashing that mook's head into was constructed in the sixteenth centry to defend against-
ARL <Gryphon>: Not *now*, Zoner...
> So I never got that aerospace degree. But I still loved
> aircraft. Aircraft? Something in the back of my mind was awakening.
TBS <Zoner>: It was late for work and had a breakfast burrito.
> Wait, didn't the Bionic Six have a plane? What was it? I remember
> looking at it almost as much as (ok, more than, I'm a geek) Rock-1. I
> had a big poster of it, an "artist's interpretation", big white and
> red B-1
ARL: Miss.
S.D.: Dammit!
> -like plane chasing an F-4,
S.D.: You hurt my hearse!
ARL: Hah! Take that!
{Continue this Battleship skit? ~S.D.}
{Sam & Max makes everything better. Someone might want to expand, though, I'm not sure I got it right. --e}
> and while I was mentally picturing
> that poster something in my mind went
> click.
GAVOK <John Cleese>: Ah, I see Zoner has a mind that goes "click!"
> "Sky Dancer!"
GAVOK <singing>: Fly for me, fly for me, Sky Dancers fly for me!
S.D. <singing, Japanese>: Toui sora no mannaka de/Dareka o matteiru...
MMK: That's Sky *Dreamer*.
{Continue? ~S.D.}
> Having been interrupted by a seemingly unrelated exclamation,
> Ben looked understandably puzzled.
{I'm thinking that there needs to be a "Tom Swifty" joke here, but I can't figure it out. --e}
> Meg was momentarily startled, but recovered quickly.
> "What about it?"
> "Whatever happened to it?"
> "Beats me. Last I saw of it the government was taking it
> away.
S.D. <Meg>: They say it knew too much.
MMK <singing, nasally>: Take it awaaay, 'cause it just don't wanna stay, and the lies you make it saaay are gettin' deeper every day...
> They pretty much cleaned out the SPL when they let us all go.
> They loaded Sky Dancer up with the Mule
ARL: ...who rewrote Zoner and Gryphon's minds so that they were totally loyal to him, then took over the universe, only to be stopped at the last minute by *another* smarmy overpowered bastard. The End.
> and the rest of our gear and
> flew it out. I haven't seen it since then. Why?" We had left Ben
> far behind; he had no clue what we were talking about. But he seemed
> comfortable, knowing he'd be sucked into it in the end - whatever it
> was.
GAVOK <Ben>: What's the Sky Dancer?
MMK <Zoner>: Goddammit, Ben! Not everything begins and ends when you say it does! You're out of your element!
S.D. <Meg>: So anyway...
GAVOK <Ben>: I am the Walrus.
MMK <Zoner>: Shut the fuck up, Ben! You're out of your element!
S.D. <Meg>: Fuck it. Let's bowl.
> "Well, it seems a shame to let such a fine aircraft go to
> waste. Maybe we could find it. And if we find it we may find the
> rest of your gear."
S.D.: ...then you can fix its nanomachines and drive it around between the half-hour long shots of the main characters sitting in the spotlight.
[This may be far too bitter... -RoP]
{It may be, but I'm not quite sure what I'm *saying* there, so it's hard to tell. ^_^;; ~S.D.}
{That was supposed to be "its," right? --e}
>
> G
> Zoner had that gleam in his eyes that meant I was going to get
> sucked into this mess whether or not I wanted to. He had a mission,
> and by God nothing was going to stand in his way.
RACE <Zoner>: I'M UNSTOPPABLE!
GAVOK <Cosgrove>: Hey Zoner, want to see a bear ride a motorcycle?
TBS <MZ>: Do I ever!! Let's ROLL!!
> When he got his
> teeth around the bit there was no stopping him.
MMK <Zoner>: This Proton Energy Pill gives me the power of 10 atom bombs in 10 seconds!
> Besides, I didn't
> have anything on the agenda for the excruciatingly near future.
ARL <Gryphon>: Wait, Iron Chef is on... DAMN it!
> Meg looked uncertain -- understandable, really. Zoner's plans
> always sound like harebrained schemes, mainly because they're
> harebrained schemes. We almost always manage to pull it together,
> though.
> Just about then the food arrived, effectively ending that
> branch of conversation. I could tell Zoner was still thinking about
> it, though; he always gets a bit distant when he's running a major
> background job.
TBS: He might need more RAM.
RACE: Believe me, with Meg in the story, Zoner's going to get all the RAM he needs...
> Instead of duplicating his effort, I mulled over what she had
> told me. Something about it was nagging at me, something had popped
> up a red flag in my memory, but I hadn't been able to pin down what it
> was. I ran through the story again in my head, and then lit on what
> had rung the mental bell.
TBS <Gryphon>: Then I gave it a mental cookie.
MMK: Food for thought?
[ALL groan.]
> "Hey, Meg... did you say you had a brother named Bunji?"
> She blinked at me, then said, "Yeah. Like I said, he's in
> Hong Kong."
> "Is that short for 'Bunjiro'?"
> "Yeah, it is, why?"
> "Well, can you beat that? I know him.
ARL <Zoner>: I met Burt Ward at a gas station.
TBS <Ben>: Damn!
> Well, I've -met- him,
> I know him to say 'hi' to."
> "Really? How'd you meet him?"
GAVOK <Ben>: We played Russian Roulette together.
> "Last time I hit a tournament in Hong Kong he was there," I
> replied. "Not fighting, just watching. He hangs out with Fei Long,
> the kung fu champ." The last time I was in Hong Kong I fought Fei
> Long, and beat him narrowly, with about as much luck as skill;
RACE: And about as much plot contriving as luck and skill *combined*...
> neither
> of us were World Warriors at the time, but he had trained even harder
> after that defeat and had reached the bracket six months before me.
> Zoner blinked. "Oh yeah! The guy who worked Fei Long's
> corner -was- named Bunjiro, wasn't he? I forgot all about it."
> Meg nodded. "Fei Long is helping Bunji get his movie career
> off the ground.
MMK <Norm MacDonald>: Hey, I know what it's called! Box Office Poison!
> He was a big action star before he started street
> fighting. I guess you could say he's Bunji's mentor."
> "Small world, isn't it?"
>
> Our meal over, we hit the awkward stage of the day:
RACE <Ben>: For some reason we agreed that we'd bathe together once every day.
> going our
> separate ways. Evening was hinting at the possibility that it might
> be considering the ramifications of starting to gather in the eastern
> sky,
ARL: "It was getting dark."
> and Zoner and I were heading back to Worcester. Zoner gave Meg
> one of his cards;
S.D. <Meg>: "How to play Black Jack"?
[OR]
S.D. <Meg>: Ooh, a foil Mirari...
> she took another from him, scribbled her number on
> the back of it and returned it,
ARL <Zoner>: 212-479-7990? You've got the same number as the last girl I met...
> then waved off his offer of a lift
> back into town.
> "Driving in Boston with this landmass? I don't think so.
> We're right next to the station, I'll just take the T."
> "Well... if you're sure."
> "Relax, I ride the T all the time. I know a thing or two
> about self-defense," she said with a grin.
S.D.: She knows Jeet Kune Do, Tae Bo, Muai Thai and seventeen other very dangerous names of martial arts styles!
[Could use rephrasing...]
> Zoner chuckled. "OK," he said, "but be careful."
> "I will." She stepped up to Zoner and did her best to kiss
> his cheek. "Call me."
> "Count on it. And think about my offer," he added.
TBS: Yes, ma'am, it's an offer you can't... think about without retching.
> "I will, seriously. Nice meeting you, too, Gryphon."
> "It was lovely meeting you, too, and I'm glad you're feeling
> much better," I said. "You're still very pale, though. You need more
> sun."
{I want to put a vampire joke here, but I'm blanking... ~S.D.}
> "You're silly," she said. "I don't even play the cello.
RACE <Zoner>: Uh, what? I said, "You're still very pale, though! You need more sun!"
> Bye!"
> It took me a moment to realize that she had not only parsed my
> reference but come around the back side of it,
ARL: That's nice. Do you mind telling us what the hell it means?
> and by then, she was
> across the street and heading into the big gray bulk of the station,
> past the big silver disc with the 'T' knocked out of it they have
> standing out by the bus stops.
> "You know," I declared as I watched the glass doors close
> behind her, "I believe I like that girl."
> "Yeah," murmured Zoner absently.
>
MMK <Zoner as George>: All right, love...whatever love wants. Just don't start in on the bit, that's all.
> We drove home in relative silence; Zoner was still mulling
> over his offer to Meg, and for that matter, so was I. It had been a
> remarkably weird day, but, oddly enough, not our weirdest. When we
> got home, I took Fury for a romp in the park as a reward for staying
> home all day. Fascist hotel administrators, not allowing pets.
GAVOK: Particularly not allowing FURY!
LOONS: YAY FURY!
> Maybe
> I should feign blindness.
ARL: Maybe you should feign being a deaf-mute with no fingers and no computer.
MMK: Easy, there.
> With a bloodhound? Probably wouldn't
> work... them hotel administrators is smart.
> When we returned, panting and damp, an hour later,
MMK: You know, if you thought about it, that sentence could sound really wrong...
[A beat. S.D. and RACE twitch.]
MMK <^_^ing>: Ah, you thought about it, didn't you? I warned you, but did you listen? Nooo...
S.D.: I'm sending all my therapy bills to you, Knight.
> he was in
> the same position on the couch. It had gotten fully dark, but he had
> been too busy thinking to turn on any lights, so I did it before
> heading to the master bathroom for a shower.
RACE: Curiously, though, the light levels remained the same.
S.D. <Gryphon>: So, Zoner... what does it feel like to be a character in a dream?
> When I came back from
> that, wearing old sweats and scrubbing at my hair with a towel, he was
> still there, staring into space. Fury was sitting next to the couch,
> regarding him as one might regard a particularly intriguing piece of
> statuary,
ARL: Like Rodin's lost masterpiece "The Mary Sue"?
S.D.: Oh my God! *The lost Moore!*
{...feel free to switch 'Monet' for a famous sculptor; it's a ref but I can't think of a better person. ~S.D.}
{better? --e}
> but he lost interest when I entered the room, deciding to
> curl up instead next to my armchair.
> I had been thinking about the same things as Zoner, so I
> figured it was time to offer my input.
> "Before you plan the sneak, we should figure out how we're
> going to cover our collective ass."
TBS: "Collective ass?" This is some sort of Commie thing, isn't it?
> He jumped. Apparently he hadn't realized I was sitting there.
> "Huh?" he said, his train of thought derailed.
> "I said," I repeated, "'Before you plan the sneak, we should
> figure out how we're going to cover our collective ass.'"
> He smiled. "You're in, then?"
> "If we do it right," I replied, leaning back and dropping a
> hand to scratch at Fury's ears. "I'm not interested in boosting
> expensive experimental stuff from the government and getting plastered
> all over the wanted lists, but if we can figure out a way to do it at
> least semi-official-like, I have no objection to rounding up some
> equipment and the like."
ARL: So you have no problems stealing top-secret military equipment, so long as you don't get caught. You're a real bastion of morality, you know that?
> "Yeah, that's the angle I've been trying to figure," Zoner
> admitted.
RACE <Zoner>: This one's 2x plus 20, and the ones around it are 3x plus 10, x plus 50 and 5x minus ten...
> "OSI is history and I don't think we can get them
> reinstated; espionage and enforcement have been completely taken out
> of DoD's hands. There are possibilities in the CIA, or maybe the NSA
> or the IMF, although deniabilty is real low when you've got a motif as
> distinctive as the Bionic Six, and now more than ever deniability is
> the name of the game."
MMK: Deniability! By Milton Bradley!
> "MI-5 is too traditional and MI-6 is having budget problems as
> it is," I observed. "Maybe what we need to do is start a new agency.
GAVOK: The Men in Plaid.
> Independent contractors have been used for that kind of work before.
> I'm not talking about freelance operatives like us, who get hired from
> job to job like temp secretaries, I'm talking about whole third-party
> agencies who the Powers that Be
TBS <confused>: Ashby and McLees?
> work with 'cause they get the job
> done. The espionage equivalent of the difference between a lone
> bounty hunter and a well-organized merc army."
> "Isn't Spectrum like that?"
ARL <W. Morgan Clark>: This is the voice of the Mysterons. We know that you can hear us, Earthman.
> "More or less. Right now Spectrum Intel - the Rainbow Group -
> is part of the UN Intel Taskforce under Lethbridge-Stuart, along with
> Cammy's group from MI-6 and some special operatives from Interpol.
> The big anti-Shadolu task force. SHIELD is still independent, though.
GAVOK: YAY NICK FURY!
> So is International Rescue, come to think of it."
> "Should you even know about that UNIT thing?"
> "Don't see why not - I'm a reserve officer in Spectrum, lest
> you forget; I haven't been activated, but the last time I checked I
> still had Rainbow-level clearance.
S.D.: Just can't hide that pride, can you Zoner?
TBS: Rainbow? Is that better than Ultraviolet or worse than Infrared?
ARL: It's Zoner. Rainbow's higher than the *Computer's* clearance.
> But before you ask, no, Cammy
> didn't tell me. The Brigadier did, oddly enough. He's probably going
> to push Spectrum to activate me so he can draft me one of these days,
> since I work along those same lines anyway in my spare time."
> "Nice work if you can get it." Zoner considered. "If we did
> that, we'd have to get recognition from a couple of the big national
> agencies before anyone would take our new group seriously."
> "Yeah," I agreed. "I can talk to Admiral Messervey, Colonel
> White and Nick Fury, but you'll have to deal with NSA and IMF. It's
> certainly feasible -- look at International Rescue.
S.D. <singing>: R-E-S, C-U-E, Rescue Aid Society...
TBS: F.A.B.
> They go so far as
> to keep their identities secret, but they do good work, so nobody
> hassles them." I paused for a moment as a thought hit me. "Still, we
> have to keep in mind - we're never going to get anywhere without the
> cooperation of the CIA. You don't do anything in Western intel
> without at least the CIA's tacit approval."
> "Hmm... " Zoner sat back on the couch and lost himself in
> thought as we both pondered the big question:
GAVOK: Who in their right mind would want to buy a ticket to see Like Mike?
> who did we know in the
> CIA who would go for something this wild, and be senior enough to make
> his support meaningful?
MMK: The answer is, you guessed it, Frank Stallone.
> Click.
> I looked up and saw Zoner looking up at me.
> "Jim Greer," we said together.
> "*3," I said as Zoner grabbed the phone and started searching
> the end table for the Filofax.
S.D. <brightly>: Just dial INTERPOL-*!
> "Thanks," said Zoner, punching the speed-dial code.
> "It's 9:30 on a Saturday night," I pointed out. "He's
> probably not going to be in."
> "You never know," said Zoner. "Hi, yes. My name is Martin
> Zorn, I'd like to speak to Admiral Greer if he's available.
S.D. <secretary>: I'm sorry, he's married.
> Yes, I'll
> hold." There was a somewhat lengthy pause. "Jim? Marty Zorn. Is this
> line secure? Got a few minutes?"
>
> MZ
> "Yes, it's secure. Do you have any idea what time it is?" Jim
> Greer growled at me as I switched him to the speaker phone.
> "9:30," I replied. "What's that got to do with anything? The
> Eyes of Democracy never close in sleep."
MMK: They do take occasional catnaps, however.
> "True," Greer admitted gruffly, then relented. "All right, go
> ahead. I was just going over some old files and materials reqs
> anyway. What's on your mind?"
GAVOK <Zoner>: They call them "fingers" but I've never seen them "fing".
> "Can you pull your file on the Office of Scientific
> Intelligence, used to be part of DoD?
TBS: ...they used to be part of the Damsels of Distress? Don't they need to talk like dirtbags for that?
> They got shut down by the Bush
> administration in '91."
> "OSI? What do you want to know about them?" demanded
> Greer, a suspicious note creeping into his voice.
> "Not much, just the disposition of some of their personnel and
> equipment."
> "Damn it, Zoner, this isn't my lunch order you're asking for,
> you know."
> "I'm well aware of that, Admiral. That's why I called you."
> "You're up to something, aren't you." It wasn't a question.
> "You know us, Jim," Ben interjected. "Always thinking of ways
> to help our fellow human beings. Listen, when Bush shut down OSI a
> bunch of good people got screwed.
RACE <Zoner>: ...and I'm doing all this to make sure a great guy gets screwed, ifyaknowwhatImean.
> We're working on an angle to help
> them out, make it up to them a little, and we thought maybe you could
> give us a hand."
MMK <Ben>: We want you to feud with them until losing a cage match at the PPV and putting them over.
> There was a pause.
> "This is the United States Government you're talking about,"
> said Greer at length. "We don't -do- that sort of thing."
> "Oh, come on, Jim," I said. "You remember what you told me
> and Ryan
S.D.: ...tell me this isn't going to take a left turn into Canada getting invaded by Hello Kitties.
> back during that mess with the IRA? Sometimes you've got to
> forget about the procedures and do the Right Thing.
RACE <MZ>: Screw federal law, I need you to do this so I can score!
> Look, just pull
> the files and read 'em, and you'll see what I mean. Read the files
> and then decide, OK?"
> "OK," Greer agreed. "But no promises!"
> "Got a pen?"
ARL <Greer>: That's classified!
> "I'm sitting at my desk, pen in hand, just waiting for you to
> call and give me more work to do."
> "Eternal vigilance," said Gryph, "is the price of liberty."
> "Give me the names," said Greer.
> "OK. Goldman, Oscar. G-O-L-D-M-A-N,
LOONS <chanting>: Goldmaaaaan... Goldmaaaaan...
> just like it sounds.
> Used to be the Director of OSI."
> "Mm hmm."
> "Wells, Dr. Rudy, probably short for Rudolph."
> "Rudy Wells the cyberneticist?"
> "The same. I take it you've heard of him."
> "He did some prosthetics work for the Air Force back in the
> seventies. Nothing ever came of it, as I recall."
> I shot Ben a bemused glance. "Sharp, Dr. Amadeus, that's
> A-M-A-D-E-U-S."
GAVOK: R-O-C-K M-E!
> "Him I've never heard of. Anyone else?"
> "Yes. Six more, all with the same last name, Bennett.
> B-E-N-N-E-T-T. Jack, probably a nickname for John; Helen; Eric; J.D.,
> I don't know what it stands for; Bunjiro; and... " It occurred to me
> that I didn't know if 'Meg' was short for something else. Probably.
> "... and Meg, probably short for Margaret or Megan or some such."
> There was a long pause and the sound of a pen scratching on
> paper.
RACE <paper>: Little lower... ah, right there. Great...
> "OK," said Greer. "I'll pull the files, I'll look them over,
> and then if I'm interested I'll call you and we'll talk about your
> plans. Fair enough?"
> "More than fair," I replied. "Talk to you soon."
> When I hung up, I noticed Gryph was looking thoughtful again;
> presently, he said, "You know, we should probably consider the
> possibility that we're not going to be able to recruit the rest of
> them. From what Meg was telling us, it sounds to me like her brothers
> have their own lives, and it wouldn't surprise me if her parents were
> enjoying their retirement."
> I shrugged. The thought had occurred to me, but what could I
> do about it either way? Not much.
> Wait.
> Jack Bennett.
> My brain did another of those tickle things. I knew that
> name. Where did I know that name from? Argh! I'm terrible with
> names.
TBS: Ooh! I know! He did the voices of Owen, and Brooklyn, and the Archmage!
MMK: That's *Jeff* Bennett.
TBS: Then he must be one of the cast of the original "Dark Shadows".
GAVOK: That's *Joan* Bennett.
[Anyone wanna continue this? -z]
> The next two hours crawled past. I refrained from biting my
> nails, and watched some show about war on the Discovery Channel ("All
> Hitler, all the time").
ARL: Actually, that would be the History Channel. Which makes sense when you think about it; the logo's a giant gilded "H", what else could it stand for? Besides that, Race.
> Gryph, the picture of unconcern, sprawled on
> the other couch reading his book. In his head he was probably
> composing his pitch to Colonel White.
MMK <humming>: Mi mi mi mi mi... so fa mi re do...
[ALL groan.]
> The phone rang. I think I may have picked it up before the
> bell actually started ringing.
> "Jim Greer," said that unmistakable voice. "Where did you get
> this list of people? Those last six are especially interesting, in a
> you-shouldn't-know-about-them sort of way."
GAVOK <Zoner>: I could tell you, but then you'd have to kill me. I mean...
> "Oh, come on, Jim, you're not going to start splitting
> clearances -now-, are you?"
> Greer made an irritated rumbling noise, then relented. "All
> right, I'm assuming you know that the Bennett family used to be
> special operatives."
> "Yes, I know about the Bionic Six."
> "OK, then. Are you going to tell me what you're up to?"
TBS <Terry Jones>: Well, I'm up to about page 39, where Peter Pan first mannyfests 'imself.
> "I know Meg, aka Rock-1, and she isn't dealing with the whole
> 'back to a normal life' thing very well. She didn't have anything to
> fall back on; I'm worried about her."
> "And?"
> "Well, I want to help her out."
> "And?"
> "OK, I was thinking of setting up a front agency for her to
> work for, get some of their gear back, find out what the good doctors
> are up to, etc., etc."
S.D. <Greer>: Face it, you wanna screw her like a bunny in heat.
> Greer sighed. "You can't leave well enough alone, can you."
> "Not when good people get screwed.
RACE <MZ>: Or when good people *could* get screwed. Heh heh...
ARL: Alright Race, Zoner's doing this so he can get laid. Now shut up.
> I'd rather do this without
> having to watch my back the whole time, but either way... So, can you
> help?"
> He took on a cautious tone. "What do you need from me?"
> "First, I need you to stay out of it. I don't want the CIA to
> shut this operation down. The way I look at it, it isn't a threat and
> it may turn into a valuable resource."
ARL: So you think that, even though you're setting up a barely-legal
mercenary-slash-special forces organization both behind the government's back AND under its nose, they're going to be all right with it?
S.D.: Of course they are. It's *Gryphon*. The only time any Earth government got mad at him, all they managed to do besides fuck themselves was blow up the Enterprise in such a way as to both rip off and preclude 'Star Trek: Generations'. [pause] Not that that's a *bad* thing, mind you.
> "OK."
> "Second, I'll need to know the locations of the good doctors
> Wells and Sharp, and any remaining equipment."
> "Your secured fax still the same?"
> "Yes, and the scrambler code is up to date as of last
> Thursday."
> "All right, you'll have that data shortly. And you didn't get
> it from me, you hear? When you're done with it, burn it."
> "Loud and clear, roger wilco. One more thing."
> "Naturally. What would it be?" He had that 'uh-oh' tone in
> his voice.
S.D. <Greer>: He knows I killed Hoffa, doesn't he.
MMK: Ah, Jim Greer Tone #17.
> "If you get other agencies poking around about this, can you
> deflect them for us?"
> "Ohh, no," said Greer in his 'now that's going too far' tone.
MMK: Greer Tone #57!
TBS: I thought that was the "my coffee tastes funny" tone.
MMK: That's #47.
TBS: Ah.
> "The Company is not going to get burned on this one. I'll do what I
> can, but if they catch on, your on you're own. Understand?"
> "Completely."
> "Mr. Hutchins?"
> "Yeah?" Ben replied.
> "Do -you- understand?"
MMK: The part of Greer will be played by Benimaru.
> "I just go where Zoner tells me to and hit the people that
> have to be hit, Jim. Hired muscle with no opinions."
> "Try to be serious, if only for a moment, will you?" came
> Greer's voice, weary-sounding.
> "If you insist. Yes, I understand. Skirting the corners of
> national security is always a chancy business. If we screw up, you'll
> throw us to the wolves. All right?"
MMK: Fury can probably negotiate with the wolves anyway.
TBS <Gaspode the Wonder Dog>: Wolves mate for life, right?
S.D. <lady wolf>: Vell?
TBS <Gaspode>: Wish *I* could.
> "Good enough. Gentlemen?"
> "Yes?" we chimed.
S.D. <singing>: Oranges and lemons, sang the bells of Saint Clemens...
> "Good luck."
> "Thanks." And with that the connection dropped. The fax
> beeped almost immediately.
> "Well, I guess we should start making some calls."
> "Why don't we wait until morning," said Ben. "I hardly think
> anyone will be very favorable at, close to midnight on a Saturday.
> Let alone the Brits - it's what, 5 AM there? I can never remember if
> they do daylight savings time. At any rate, M. might be up, but I
> doubt he wants to talk shop that early in the morning."
> "Yeah, you're right. (They do.)
TBS: But I think they call it Summer Time.
> Ah, it'll give us more time
> to go over this data anyway. Here, this is the stuff on the
> scientists... why don't you talk to them tomorrow. I'll see what I
> can do about the equipment. And, of course, we'll have to talk to a
> few agencies. I'll see what I can do on their systems. If we're
> lucky we'll have all of them thinking the others are behind it."
[There's a riff there, but I can't remember the right line of dialogue to make it with. -z]
> "Yeah, and if we're not they'll all be looking at us."
> "Ah, you have to have the right attitude."
> Ben just glared at me.
> "I'm about to violate the National Security Act and who knows
> what other important laws so you can impress some chick you met at a
> music festival, and you're talking about 'the right attitude'."
> I shrugged.
> "Well, fine," he said, getting up. "I'm going to bed.
> There's no sense violating Federal law without sufficient rest."
MMK: Somewhere in Liberty City, a nameless wheelman has a motivational poster with that phrase on his wall...
> MZ
> I didn't pay much attention as Ben related his tale. I knew
> it all by now anyway, and he was leaving out a lot of the good bits.
ARL <Zoner>: But that's what the DVD is for.
> My mind was drifting on the topic of finding funds for Meg.
S.D.: Oh, slick. Win her heart with money.
> I know
> what you're thinking:
MMK <Zoner>: 10 CDs for a dollar? No way!
> "Oh, slick. Win her heart with money." You
> should be ashamed.
S.D.: Don't you *dare* put me on a guilt trip, Zoner!
ARL: He can't hear you, Shady.
S.D.: Look, just... don't start with me, alright?
> The money had nothing to do with it. I just hate
> seeing cool people get a raw deal, and if I can rectify that in some
> way, good.
S.D.: ...hey, *wait* a sec.
RACE: Huh?
S.D.: This isn't Legacy Zoner, it's Symphony Zoner! He's got the 'give lots of money to hot young women I've known for maybe ten minutes cumulatively, minus the attempts at comedy' schtick down *pat*! Just give Meg color-coded hair, and it *is* SotS.
RACE: You know *far* too much about Eyrie.
{More? Edit? ~S.D.}
> And while I felt like a nervous schoolboy hoping the
> object of his crush would give him the time of day, I wouldn't want
> anyone to like me because of what I did for them. If Meg was going to
> like me I wanted it to be because of me. Yeah, I tend to get myself
> into weird mental Mobius loops a lot.
TBS: Then he has to run around really fast and get a bunch of emeralds together to stop a really fat guy from taking over a world populated entirely by furries.
S.D. <singing, fast>: Just like a circle in a spiral like a wheel within a wheel...
> But while the personal matter was out of my control, the
> professional was not. Meg would have to decide on her own if that was
> what she wanted. I would never pressure anyone into a decision like
> that; it isn't fair. But if that is what she wanted, then I would do
> what I could to get it for her.
GAVOK <Zoner>: So I would walk five hundred miles. And I would walk five hundred more. Just to be the man who'd walk a thousand miles and fall down at that door.
> And I was fairly confident that I
> could do it.
RACE <Zoner>: Because I'm good enough, I'm smart enough, and doggone it, people like me!
{Minor edits to fit that skit, but I don't think 'smart' is right... ~S.D.}
> She seemed to be doing what I had done.
TBS: She was getting a tattoo of Spongebob Squarepants on her backside.
> Going to school for
> music seems like a natural course for her, after all, but I could tell
> her heart wasn't really into it. I did the same thing. I loved
> aircraft, I loved to fly, and I had an aptitude for engineering;
S.D.: He had a spanner, a nailgun, some EMP grenades...
GAVOK: ...and karma.
> so it
> seemed natural to major in Aerospace Engineering. Except I found it
> bored me to tears. The hard part was realizing that in the first
> place. I thought it was me, that I just wasn't cut out for college.
> Once I wised up to the root of the problem and changed majors, I had a
> much better time and actually enjoyed what I was doing. Sure, so I
> ended up with a double major in Technical Writing and History. It
> isn't all that unusual for people to have careers in areas completely
> unrelated to their degrees.
RACE <Ryu>: I swear by my computer programming degree that I will become the greatest fighter ever!
> Besides, the History degree comes in
> handy at times on our trips.
GAVOK: Ah. Zoner hangs out with Peabody.
S.D. <Zoner>: Hey Gryph, do you realize that wall you're smashing that mook's head into was constructed in the sixteenth centry to defend against-
ARL <Gryphon>: Not *now*, Zoner...
> So I never got that aerospace degree. But I still loved
> aircraft. Aircraft? Something in the back of my mind was awakening.
TBS <Zoner>: It was late for work and had a breakfast burrito.
> Wait, didn't the Bionic Six have a plane? What was it? I remember
> looking at it almost as much as (ok, more than, I'm a geek) Rock-1. I
> had a big poster of it, an "artist's interpretation", big white and
> red B-1
ARL: Miss.
S.D.: Dammit!
> -like plane chasing an F-4,
S.D.: You hurt my hearse!
ARL: Hah! Take that!
{Continue this Battleship skit? ~S.D.}
{Sam & Max makes everything better. Someone might want to expand, though, I'm not sure I got it right. --e}
> and while I was mentally picturing
> that poster something in my mind went
> click.
GAVOK <John Cleese>: Ah, I see Zoner has a mind that goes "click!"
> "Sky Dancer!"
GAVOK <singing>: Fly for me, fly for me, Sky Dancers fly for me!
S.D. <singing, Japanese>: Toui sora no mannaka de/Dareka o matteiru...
MMK: That's Sky *Dreamer*.
{Continue? ~S.D.}
> Having been interrupted by a seemingly unrelated exclamation,
> Ben looked understandably puzzled.
{I'm thinking that there needs to be a "Tom Swifty" joke here, but I can't figure it out. --e}
> Meg was momentarily startled, but recovered quickly.
> "What about it?"
> "Whatever happened to it?"
> "Beats me. Last I saw of it the government was taking it
> away.
S.D. <Meg>: They say it knew too much.
MMK <singing, nasally>: Take it awaaay, 'cause it just don't wanna stay, and the lies you make it saaay are gettin' deeper every day...
> They pretty much cleaned out the SPL when they let us all go.
> They loaded Sky Dancer up with the Mule
ARL: ...who rewrote Zoner and Gryphon's minds so that they were totally loyal to him, then took over the universe, only to be stopped at the last minute by *another* smarmy overpowered bastard. The End.
> and the rest of our gear and
> flew it out. I haven't seen it since then. Why?" We had left Ben
> far behind; he had no clue what we were talking about. But he seemed
> comfortable, knowing he'd be sucked into it in the end - whatever it
> was.
GAVOK <Ben>: What's the Sky Dancer?
MMK <Zoner>: Goddammit, Ben! Not everything begins and ends when you say it does! You're out of your element!
S.D. <Meg>: So anyway...
GAVOK <Ben>: I am the Walrus.
MMK <Zoner>: Shut the fuck up, Ben! You're out of your element!
S.D. <Meg>: Fuck it. Let's bowl.
> "Well, it seems a shame to let such a fine aircraft go to
> waste. Maybe we could find it. And if we find it we may find the
> rest of your gear."
S.D.: ...then you can fix it with nanomachines and drive it around between the half-hour long shots of the main characters sitting in the spotlight.
[This may be far too bitter... -RoP]
{It may be, but I'm not quite sure what I'm *saying* there, so it's hard to tell. ^_^;; ~S.D.}
{That was supposed to be "its," right? --e}
>
> G
> Zoner had that gleam in his eyes that meant I was going to get
> sucked into this mess whether or not I wanted to. He had a mission,
> and by God nothing was going to stand in his way.
RACE <Zoner>: I'M UNSTOPPABLE!
GAVOK <Cosgrove>: Hey Zoner, want to see a bear ride a motorcycle?
TBS <MZ>: Do I ever!! Let's ROLL!!
> When he got his
> teeth around the bit there was no stopping him.
MMK <Zoner>: This Proton Energy Pill gives me the power of 10 atom bombs in 10 seconds!
> Besides, I didn't
> have anything on the agenda for the excruciatingly near future.
ARL <Gryphon>: Wait, Iron Chef is on... DAMN it!
> Meg looked uncertain -- understandable, really. Zoner's plans
> always sound like harebrained schemes, mainly because they're
> harebrained schemes. We almost always manage to pull it together,
> though.
> Just about then the food arrived, effectively ending that
> branch of conversation. I could tell Zoner was still thinking about
> it, though; he always gets a bit distant when he's running a major
> background job.
TBS: He might need more RAM.
RACE: Believe me, with Meg in the story, Zoner's going to get all the RAM he needs...
> Instead of duplicating his effort, I mulled over what she had
> told me. Something about it was nagging at me, something had popped
> up a red flag in my memory, but I hadn't been able to pin down what it
> was. I ran through the story again in my head, and then lit on what
> had rung the mental bell.
TBS <Gryphon>: Then I gave it a mental cookie.
MMK: Food for thought?
[ALL groan.]
> "Hey, Meg... did you say you had a brother named Bunji?"
> She blinked at me, then said, "Yeah. Like I said, he's in
> Hong Kong."
> "Is that short for 'Bunjiro'?"
> "Yeah, it is, why?"
> "Well, can you beat that? I know him.
ARL <Zoner>: I met Burt Ward at a gas station.
TBS <Ben>: Damn!
> Well, I've -met- him,
> I know him to say 'hi' to."
> "Really? How'd you meet him?"
GAVOK <Ben>: We played Russian Roulette together.
> "Last time I hit a tournament in Hong Kong he was there," I
> replied. "Not fighting, just watching. He hangs out with Fei Long,
> the kung fu champ." The last time I was in Hong Kong I fought Fei
> Long, and beat him narrowly, with about as much luck as skill;
RACE: And about as much plot contriving as luck and skill *combined*...
> neither
> of us were World Warriors at the time, but he had trained even harder
> after that defeat and had reached the bracket six months before me.
> Zoner blinked. "Oh yeah! The guy who worked Fei Long's
> corner -was- named Bunjiro, wasn't he? I forgot all about it."
> Meg nodded. "Fei Long is helping Bunji get his movie career
> off the ground.
MMK <Norm MacDonald>: Hey, I know what it's called! Box Office Poison!
> He was a big action star before he started street
> fighting. I guess you could say he's Bunji's mentor."
> "Small world, isn't it?"
>
> Our meal over, we hit the awkward stage of the day:
RACE <Ben>: For some reason we agreed that we'd bathe together once every day.
> going our
> separate ways. Evening was hinting at the possibility that it might
> be considering the ramifications of starting to gather in the eastern
> sky,
ARL: "It was getting dark."
> and Zoner and I were heading back to Worcester. Zoner gave Meg
> one of his cards;
S.D. <Meg>: "How to play Black Jack"?
[OR]
S.D. <Meg>: Ooh, a foil Mirari...
> she took another from him, scribbled her number on
> the back of it and returned it,
ARL <Zoner>: 212-479-7990? You've got the same number as the last girl I met...
> then waved off his offer of a lift
> back into town.
> "Driving in Boston with this landmass? I don't think so.
> We're right next to the station, I'll just take the T."
> "Well... if you're sure."
> "Relax, I ride the T all the time. I know a thing or two
> about self-defense," she said with a grin.
S.D.: She knows Jeet Kune Do, Tae Bo, Muai Thai and seventeen other very dangerous names of martial arts styles!
[Could use rephrasing...]
> Zoner chuckled. "OK," he said, "but be careful."
> "I will." She stepped up to Zoner and did her best to kiss
> his cheek. "Call me."
> "Count on it. And think about my offer," he added.
TBS: Yes, ma'am, it's an offer you can't... think about without retching.
> "I will, seriously. Nice meeting you, too, Gryphon."
> "It was lovely meeting you, too, and I'm glad you're feeling
> much better," I said. "You're still very pale, though. You need more
> sun."
{I want to put a vampire joke here, but I'm blanking... ~S.D.}
> "You're silly," she said. "I don't even play the cello.
RACE <Zoner>: Uh, what? I said, "You're still very pale, though! You need more sun!"
> Bye!"
> It took me a moment to realize that she had not only parsed my
> reference but come around the back side of it,
ARL: That's nice. Do you mind telling us what the hell it means?
> and by then, she was
> across the street and heading into the big gray bulk of the station,
> past the big silver disc with the 'T' knocked out of it they have
> standing out by the bus stops.
> "You know," I declared as I watched the glass doors close
> behind her, "I believe I like that girl."
> "Yeah," murmured Zoner absently.
>
MMK <Zoner as George>: All right, love...whatever love wants. Just don't start in on the bit, that's all.
> We drove home in relative silence; Zoner was still mulling
> over his offer to Meg, and for that matter, so was I. It had been a
> remarkably weird day, but, oddly enough, not our weirdest. When we
> got home, I took Fury for a romp in the park as a reward for staying
> home all day. Fascist hotel administrators, not allowing pets.
GAVOK: Particularly not allowing FURY!
LOONS: YAY FURY!
> Maybe
> I should feign blindness.
ARL: Maybe you should feign being a deaf-mute with no fingers and no computer.
MMK: Easy, there.
> With a bloodhound? Probably wouldn't
> work... them hotel administrators is smart.
> When we returned, panting and damp, an hour later,
MMK: You know, if you thought about it, that sentence could sound really wrong...
[A beat. S.D. and RACE twitch.]
MMK <^_^ing>: Ah, you thought about it, didn't you? I warned you, but did you listen? Nooo...
S.D.: I'm sending all my therapy bills to you, Knight.
> he was in
> the same position on the couch. It had gotten fully dark, but he had
> been too busy thinking to turn on any lights, so I did it before
> heading to the master bathroom for a shower.
RACE: Curiously, though, the light levels remained the same.
S.D. <Gryphon>: So, Zoner... what does it feel like to be a character in a dream?
> When I came back from
> that, wearing old sweats and scrubbing at my hair with a towel, he was
> still there, staring into space. Fury was sitting next to the couch,
> regarding him as one might regard a particularly intriguing piece of
> statuary,
ARL: Like Rodin's lost masterpiece "The Mary Sue"?
S.D.: Oh my God! *The lost Moore!*
{...feel free to switch 'Monet' for a famous sculptor; it's a ref but I can't think of a better person. ~S.D.}
{better? --e}
> but he lost interest when I entered the room, deciding to
> curl up instead next to my armchair.
> I had been thinking about the same things as Zoner, so I
> figured it was time to offer my input.
> "Before you plan the sneak, we should figure out how we're
> going to cover our collective ass."
TBS: "Collective ass?" This is some sort of Commie thing, isn't it?
> He jumped. Apparently he hadn't realized I was sitting there.
> "Huh?" he said, his train of thought derailed.
> "I said," I repeated, "'Before you plan the sneak, we should
> figure out how we're going to cover our collective ass.'"
> He smiled. "You're in, then?"
> "If we do it right," I replied, leaning back and dropping a
> hand to scratch at Fury's ears. "I'm not interested in boosting
> expensive experimental stuff from the government and getting plastered
> all over the wanted lists, but if we can figure out a way to do it at
> least semi-official-like, I have no objection to rounding up some
> equipment and the like."
ARL: So you have no problems stealing top-secret military equipment, so long as you don't get caught. You're a real bastion of morality, you know that?
> "Yeah, that's the angle I've been trying to figure," Zoner
> admitted.
RACE <Zoner>: This one's 2x plus 20, and the ones around it are 3x plus 10, x plus 50 and 5x minus ten...
> "OSI is history and I don't think we can get them
> reinstated; espionage and enforcement have been completely taken out
> of DoD's hands. There are possibilities in the CIA, or maybe the NSA
> or the IMF, although deniabilty is real low when you've got a motif as
> distinctive as the Bionic Six, and now more than ever deniability is
> the name of the game."
MMK: Deniability! By Milton Bradley!
> "MI-5 is too traditional and MI-6 is having budget problems as
> it is," I observed. "Maybe what we need to do is start a new agency.
GAVOK: The Men in Plaid.
> Independent contractors have been used for that kind of work before.
> I'm not talking about freelance operatives like us, who get hired from
> job to job like temp secretaries, I'm talking about whole third-party
> agencies who the Powers that Be
TBS <confused>: Ashby and McLees?
> work with 'cause they get the job
> done. The espionage equivalent of the difference between a lone
> bounty hunter and a well-organized merc army."
> "Isn't Spectrum like that?"
ARL <W. Morgan Clark>: This is the voice of the Mysterons. We know that you can hear us, Earthman.
> "More or less. Right now Spectrum Intel - the Rainbow Group -
> is part of the UN Intel Taskforce under Lethbridge-Stuart, along with
> Cammy's group from MI-6 and some special operatives from Interpol.
> The big anti-Shadolu task force. SHIELD is still independent, though.
GAVOK: YAY NICK FURY!
> So is International Rescue, come to think of it."
> "Should you even know about that UNIT thing?"
> "Don't see why not - I'm a reserve officer in Spectrum, lest
> you forget; I haven't been activated, but the last time I checked I
> still had Rainbow-level clearance.
S.D.: Just can't hide that pride, can you Zoner?
TBS: Rainbow? Is that better than Ultraviolet or worse than Infrared?
ARL: It's Zoner. Rainbow's higher than the *Computer's* clearance.
> But before you ask, no, Cammy
> didn't tell me. The Brigadier did, oddly enough. He's probably going
> to push Spectrum to activate me so he can draft me one of these days,
> since I work along those same lines anyway in my spare time."
> "Nice work if you can get it." Zoner considered. "If we did
> that, we'd have to get recognition from a couple of the big national
> agencies before anyone would take our new group seriously."
> "Yeah," I agreed. "I can talk to Admiral Messervey, Colonel
> White and Nick Fury, but you'll have to deal with NSA and IMF. It's
> certainly feasible -- look at International Rescue.
S.D. <singing>: R-E-S, C-U-E, Rescue Aid Society...
TBS: F.A.B.
> They go so far as
> to keep their identities secret, but they do good work, so nobody
> hassles them." I paused for a moment as a thought hit me. "Still, we
> have to keep in mind - we're never going to get anywhere without the
> cooperation of the CIA. You don't do anything in Western intel
> without at least the CIA's tacit approval."
> "Hmm... " Zoner sat back on the couch and lost himself in
> thought as we both pondered the big question:
GAVOK: Who in their right mind would want to buy a ticket to see Like Mike?
> who did we know in the
> CIA who would go for something this wild, and be senior enough to make
> his support meaningful?
MMK: The answer is, you guessed it, Frank Stallone.
> Click.
> I looked up and saw Zoner looking up at me.
> "Jim Greer," we said together.
> "*3," I said as Zoner grabbed the phone and started searching
> the end table for the Filofax.
S.D. <brightly>: Just dial INTERPOL-*!
> "Thanks," said Zoner, punching the speed-dial code.
> "It's 9:30 on a Saturday night," I pointed out. "He's
> probably not going to be in."
> "You never know," said Zoner. "Hi, yes. My name is Martin
> Zorn, I'd like to speak to Admiral Greer if he's available.
S.D. <secretary>: I'm sorry, he's married.
> Yes, I'll
> hold." There was a somewhat lengthy pause. "Jim? Marty Zorn. Is this
> line secure? Got a few minutes?"
>
> MZ
> "Yes, it's secure. Do you have any idea what time it is?" Jim
> Greer growled at me as I switched him to the speaker phone.
> "9:30," I replied. "What's that got to do with anything? The
> Eyes of Democracy never close in sleep."
MMK: They do take occasional catnaps, however.
> "True," Greer admitted gruffly, then relented. "All right, go
> ahead. I was just going over some old files and materials reqs
> anyway. What's on your mind?"
GAVOK <Zoner>: They call them "fingers" but I've never seen them "fing".
> "Can you pull your file on the Office of Scientific
> Intelligence, used to be part of DoD?
TBS: ...they used to be part of the Damsels of Distress? Don't they need to talk like dirtbags for that?
> They got shut down by the Bush
> administration in '91."
> "OSI? What do you want to know about them?" demanded
> Greer, a suspicious note creeping into his voice.
> "Not much, just the disposition of some of their personnel and
> equipment."
> "Damn it, Zoner, this isn't my lunch order you're asking for,
> you know."
> "I'm well aware of that, Admiral. That's why I called you."
> "You're up to something, aren't you." It wasn't a question.
> "You know us, Jim," Ben interjected. "Always thinking of ways
> to help our fellow human beings. Listen, when Bush shut down OSI a
> bunch of good people got screwed.
RACE <Zoner>: ...and I'm doing all this to make sure a great guy gets screwed, ifyaknowwhatImean.
> We're working on an angle to help
> them out, make it up to them a little, and we thought maybe you could
> give us a hand."
MMK <Ben>: We want you to feud with them until losing a cage match at the PPV and putting them over.
> There was a pause.
> "This is the United States Government you're talking about,"
> said Greer at length. "We don't -do- that sort of thing."
> "Oh, come on, Jim," I said. "You remember what you told me
> and Ryan
S.D.: ...tell me this isn't going to take a left turn into Canada getting invaded by Hello Kitties.
> back during that mess with the IRA? Sometimes you've got to
> forget about the procedures and do the Right Thing.
RACE <MZ>: Screw federal law, I need you to do this so I can score!
> Look, just pull
> the files and read 'em, and you'll see what I mean. Read the files
> and then decide, OK?"
> "OK," Greer agreed. "But no promises!"
> "Got a pen?"
ARL <Greer>: That's classified!
> "I'm sitting at my desk, pen in hand, just waiting for you to
> call and give me more work to do."
> "Eternal vigilance," said Gryph, "is the price of liberty."
> "Give me the names," said Greer.
> "OK. Goldman, Oscar. G-O-L-D-M-A-N,
LOONS <chanting>: Goldmaaaaan... Goldmaaaaan...
> just like it sounds.
> Used to be the Director of OSI."
> "Mm hmm."
> "Wells, Dr. Rudy, probably short for Rudolph."
> "Rudy Wells the cyberneticist?"
> "The same. I take it you've heard of him."
> "He did some prosthetics work for the Air Force back in the
> seventies. Nothing ever came of it, as I recall."
> I shot Ben a bemused glance. "Sharp, Dr. Amadeus, that's
> A-M-A-D-E-U-S."
GAVOK: R-O-C-K M-E!
> "Him I've never heard of. Anyone else?"
> "Yes. Six more, all with the same last name, Bennett.
> B-E-N-N-E-T-T. Jack, probably a nickname for John; Helen; Eric; J.D.,
> I don't know what it stands for; Bunjiro; and... " It occurred to me
> that I didn't know if 'Meg' was short for something else. Probably.
> "... and Meg, probably short for Margaret or Megan or some such."
> There was a long pause and the sound of a pen scratching on
> paper.
RACE <paper>: Little lower... ah, right there. Great...
> "OK," said Greer. "I'll pull the files, I'll look them over,
> and then if I'm interested I'll call you and we'll talk about your
> plans. Fair enough?"
> "More than fair," I replied. "Talk to you soon."
> When I hung up, I noticed Gryph was looking thoughtful again;
> presently, he said, "You know, we should probably consider the
> possibility that we're not going to be able to recruit the rest of
> them. From what Meg was telling us, it sounds to me like her brothers
> have their own lives, and it wouldn't surprise me if her parents were
> enjoying their retirement."
> I shrugged. The thought had occurred to me, but what could I
> do about it either way? Not much.
> Wait.
> Jack Bennett.
> My brain did another of those tickle things. I knew that
> name. Where did I know that name from? Argh! I'm terrible with
> names.
TBS: Ooh! I know! He did the voices of Owen, and Brooklyn, and the Archmage!
MMK: That's *Jeff* Bennett.
TBS: Then he must be one of the cast of the original "Dark Shadows".
GAVOK: That's *Joan* Bennett.
[Anyone wanna continue this? -z]
> The next two hours crawled past. I refrained from biting my
> nails, and watched some show about war on the Discovery Channel ("All
> Hitler, all the time").
ARL: Actually, that would be the History Channel. Which makes sense when you think about it; the logo's a giant gilded "H", what else could it stand for? Besides that, Race.
> Gryph, the picture of unconcern, sprawled on
> the other couch reading his book. In his head he was probably
> composing his pitch to Colonel White.
MMK <humming>: Mi mi mi mi mi... so fa mi re do...
[ALL groan.]
> The phone rang. I think I may have picked it up before the
> bell actually started ringing.
> "Jim Greer," said that unmistakable voice. "Where did you get
> this list of people? Those last six are especially interesting, in a
> you-shouldn't-know-about-them sort of way."
GAVOK <Zoner>: I could tell you, but then you'd have to kill me. I mean...
> "Oh, come on, Jim, you're not going to start splitting
> clearances -now-, are you?"
> Greer made an irritated rumbling noise, then relented. "All
> right, I'm assuming you know that the Bennett family used to be
> special operatives."
> "Yes, I know about the Bionic Six."
> "OK, then. Are you going to tell me what you're up to?"
TBS <Terry Jones>: Well, I'm up to about page 39, where Peter Pan first mannyfests 'imself.
> "I know Meg, aka Rock-1, and she isn't dealing with the whole
> 'back to a normal life' thing very well. She didn't have anything to
> fall back on; I'm worried about her."
> "And?"
> "Well, I want to help her out."
> "And?"
> "OK, I was thinking of setting up a front agency for her to
> work for, get some of their gear back, find out what the good doctors
> are up to, etc., etc."
S.D. <Greer>: Face it, you wanna screw her like a bunny in heat.
> Greer sighed. "You can't leave well enough alone, can you."
> "Not when good people get screwed.
RACE <MZ>: Or when good people *could* get screwed. Heh heh...
ARL: Alright Race, Zoner's doing this so he can get laid. Now shut up.
> I'd rather do this without
> having to watch my back the whole time, but either way... So, can you
> help?"
> He took on a cautious tone. "What do you need from me?"
> "First, I need you to stay out of it. I don't want the CIA to
> shut this operation down. The way I look at it, it isn't a threat and
> it may turn into a valuable resource."
ARL: So you think that, even though you're setting up a barely-legal
mercenary-slash-special forces organization both behind the government's back AND under its nose, they're going to be all right with it?
S.D.: Of course they are. It's *Gryphon*. The only time any Earth government got mad at him, all they managed to do besides fuck themselves was blow up the Enterprise in such a way as to both rip off and preclude 'Star Trek: Generations'. [pause] Not that that's a *bad* thing, mind you.
> "OK."
> "Second, I'll need to know the locations of the good doctors
> Wells and Sharp, and any remaining equipment."
> "Your secured fax still the same?"
> "Yes, and the scrambler code is up to date as of last
> Thursday."
> "All right, you'll have that data shortly. And you didn't get
> it from me, you hear? When you're done with it, burn it."
> "Loud and clear, roger wilco. One more thing."
> "Naturally. What would it be?" He had that 'uh-oh' tone in
> his voice.
S.D. <Greer>: He knows I killed Hoffa, doesn't he.
MMK: Ah, Jim Greer Tone #17.
> "If you get other agencies poking around about this, can you
> deflect them for us?"
> "Ohh, no," said Greer in his 'now that's going too far' tone.
MMK: Greer Tone #57!
TBS: I thought that was the "my coffee tastes funny" tone.
MMK: That's #47.
TBS: Ah.
> "The Company is not going to get burned on this one. I'll do what I
> can, but if they catch on, your on you're own. Understand?"
> "Completely."
> "Mr. Hutchins?"
> "Yeah?" Ben replied.
> "Do -you- understand?"
MMK: The part of Greer will be played by Benimaru.
> "I just go where Zoner tells me to and hit the people that
> have to be hit, Jim. Hired muscle with no opinions."
> "Try to be serious, if only for a moment, will you?" came
> Greer's voice, weary-sounding.
> "If you insist. Yes, I understand. Skirting the corners of
> national security is always a chancy business. If we screw up, you'll
> throw us to the wolves. All right?"
MMK: Fury can probably negotiate with the wolves anyway.
TBS <Gaspode the Wonder Dog>: Wolves mate for life, right?
S.D. <lady wolf>: Vell?
TBS <Gaspode>: Wish *I* could.
> "Good enough. Gentlemen?"
> "Yes?" we chimed.
S.D. <singing>: Oranges and lemons, sang the bells of Saint Clemens...
> "Good luck."
> "Thanks." And with that the connection dropped. The fax
> beeped almost immediately.
> "Well, I guess we should start making some calls."
> "Why don't we wait until morning," said Ben. "I hardly think
> anyone will be very favorable at, close to midnight on a Saturday.
> Let alone the Brits - it's what, 5 AM there? I can never remember if
> they do daylight savings time. At any rate, M. might be up, but I
> doubt he wants to talk shop that early in the morning."
> "Yeah, you're right. (They do.)
TBS: But I think they call it Summer Time.
> Ah, it'll give us more time
> to go over this data anyway. Here, this is the stuff on the
> scientists... why don't you talk to them tomorrow. I'll see what I
> can do about the equipment. And, of course, we'll have to talk to a
> few agencies. I'll see what I can do on their systems. If we're
> lucky we'll have all of them thinking the others are behind it."
[There's a riff there, but I can't remember the right line of dialogue to make it with. -z]
> "Yeah, and if we're not they'll all be looking at us."
> "Ah, you have to have the right attitude."
> Ben just glared at me.
> "I'm about to violate the National Security Act and who knows
> what other important laws so you can impress some chick you met at a
> music festival, and you're talking about 'the right attitude'."
> I shrugged.
> "Well, fine," he said, getting up. "I'm going to bed.
> There's no sense violating Federal law without sufficient rest."
MMK: Somewhere in Liberty City, a nameless wheelman has a motivational poster with that phrase on his wall...
> MZ
> I didn't pay much attention as Ben related his tale.
???: It's okay, neither did we.
> I knew
> it all by now anyway, and he was leaving out a lot of the good bits.
ARL <Zoner>: But that's what the DVD is for.
> My mind was drifting on the topic of finding funds for Meg.
S.D.: Oh, slick. Win her heart with money.
> I know
> what you're thinking:
MMK <Zoner>: 10 CDs for a dollar? No way!
> "Oh, slick. Win her heart with money." You
> should be ashamed.
S.D.: Don't you *dare* put me on a guilt trip, Zoner!
ARL: He can't hear you, Shady.
S.D.: Look, just... don't start with me, alright?
> The money had nothing to do with it. I just hate
> seeing cool people get a raw deal, and if I can rectify that in some
> way, good.
S.D.: ...hey, *wait* a sec.
RACE: Huh?
S.D.: This isn't Legacy Zoner, it's Symphony Zoner! He's got the 'give lots of money to hot young women I've known for maybe ten minutes cumulatively, minus the attempts at comedy' schtick down *pat*! Just give Meg color-coded hair, and it *is* SotS.
RACE: You know *far* too much about Eyrie.
{More? Edit? ~S.D.}
> And while I felt like a nervous schoolboy hoping the
> object of his crush would give him the time of day,
??? <Zoner>: And if she doesn't, I'll writew her into a fanfic where she does!
??? <Gryphon>: Uh, Zoner, this is a fanfic and you *are* writing it.
> I wouldn't want
> anyone to like me because of what I did for them. If Meg was going to
> like me I wanted it to be because of me. Yeah, I tend to get myself
> into weird mental Mobius loops a lot.
TBS: Then he has to run around really fast and get a bunch of emeralds together to stop a really fat guy from taking over a world populated entirely by furries.
S.D. <singing, fast>: Just like a circle in a spiral like a wheel within a wheel...
> But while the personal matter was out of my control, the
> professional was not. Meg would have to decide on her own if that was
> what she wanted. I would never pressure anyone into a decision like
> that;
???: And you call yourself a self-inserttion authour? For shame!
??? <Zoner>: Of course, I could just write her as agreeing then.
> it isn't fair. But if that is what she wanted, then I would do
> what I could to get it for her.
GAVOK <Zoner>: So I would walk five hundred miles. And I would walk five hundred more. Just to be the man who'd walk a thousand miles and fall down at that door.
> And I was fairly confident that I
> could do it.
RACE <Zoner>: Because I'm good enough, I'm smart enough, and doggone it, people like me!
{Minor edits to fit that skit, but I don't think 'smart' is right... ~S.D.}
> She seemed to be doing what I had done.
TBS: She was getting a tattoo of Spongebob Squarepants on her backside.
> Going to school for
> music seems like a natural course for her, after all, but I could tell
> her heart wasn't really into it. I did the same thing. I loved
> aircraft, I loved to fly, and I had an aptitude for engineering;
S.D.: He had a spanner, a nailgun, some EMP grenades...
GAVOK: ...and karma.
> so it
> seemed natural to major in Aerospace Engineering. Except I found it
> bored me to tears. The hard part was realizing that in the first
> place. I thought it was me, that I just wasn't cut out for college.
> Once I wised up to the root of the problem and changed majors, I had a
> much better time and actually enjoyed what I was doing.
MMK <Zoner>: Andf who know,s a degree in Medieval Plumbing may yet come in handy.
> Sure, so I
> ended up with a double major in Technical Writing and History. It
> isn't all that unusual for people to have careers in areas completely
> unrelated to their degrees.
RACE <Ryu>: I swear by my computer programming degree that I will become the greatest fighter ever!
> Besides, the History degree comes in
> handy at times on our trips.
GAVOK: Ah. Zoner hangs out with Peabody.
S.D. <Zoner>: Hey Gryph, do you realize that wall you're smashing that mook's head into was constructed in the sixteenth centry to defend against-
ARL <Gryphon>: Not *now*, Zoner...
> So I never got that aerospace degree. But I still loved
> aircraft. Aircraft? Something in the back of my mind was awakening.
TBS <Zoner>: It was late for work and had a breakfast burrito.
> Wait, didn't the Bionic Six have a plane? What was it? I remember
> looking at it almost as much as (ok, more than, I'm a geek) Rock-1. I
> had a big poster of it, an "artist's interpretation", big white and
> red B-1
ARL: Miss.
S.D.: Dammit!
> -like plane chasing an F-4,
S.D.: You hurt my hearse!
ARL: Hah! Take that!
{Continue this Battleship skit? ~S.D.}
{Sam & Max makes everything better. Someone might want to expand, though, I'm not sure I got it right. --e}
> and while I was mentally picturing
> that poster something in my mind went
> click.
GAVOK <John Cleese>: Ah, I see Zoner has a mind that goes "click!"
> "Sky Dancer!"
GAVOK <singing>: Fly for me, fly for me, Sky Dancers fly for me!
S.D. <singing, Japanese>: Toui sora no mannaka de/Dareka o matteiru...
MMK: That's Sky *Dreamer*.
{Continue? ~S.D.}
> Having been interrupted by a seemingly unrelated exclamation,
> Ben looked understandably puzzled.
{I'm thinking that there needs to be a "Tom Swifty" joke here, but I can't figure it out. --e}
> Meg was momentarily startled, but recovered quickly.
> "What about it?"
> "Whatever happened to it?"
> "Beats me. Last I saw of it the government was taking it
> away.
S.D. <Meg>: They say it knew too much.
MMK <singing, nasally>: Take it awaaay, 'cause it just don't wanna stay, and the lies you make it saaay are gettin' deeper every day...
> They pretty much cleaned out the SPL when they let us all go.
> They loaded Sky Dancer up with the Mule
ARL: ...who rewrote Zoner and Gryphon's minds so that they were totally loyal to him, then took over the universe, only to be stopped at the last minute by *another* smarmy overpowered bastard. The End.
> and the rest of our gear and
> flew it out. I haven't seen it since then. Why?" We had left Ben
> far behind; he had no clue what we were talking about. But he seemed
> comfortable, knowing he'd be sucked into it in the end - whatever it
> was.
GAVOK <Ben>: What's the Sky Dancer?
MMK <Zoner>: Goddammit, Ben! Not everything begins and ends when you say it does! You're out of your element!
S.D. <Meg>: So anyway...
GAVOK <Ben>: I am the Walrus.
MMK <Zoner>: Shut the fuck up, Ben! You're out of your element!
S.D. <Meg>: Fuck it. Let's bowl.
> "Well, it seems a shame to let such a fine aircraft go to
> waste. Maybe we could find it. And if we find it we may find the
> rest of your gear."
S.D.: ...then you can fix it with nanomachines and drive it around between the half-hour long shots of the main characters sitting in the spotlight.
[This may be far too bitter... -RoP]
{It may be, but I'm not quite sure what I'm *saying* there, so it's hard to tell. ^_^;; ~S.D.}
{That was supposed to be "its," right? --e}
>
> G
> Zoner had that gleam in his eyes that meant I was going to get
> sucked into this mess whether or not I wanted to. He had a mission,
> and by God nothing was going to stand in his way.
RACE <Zoner>: I'M UNSTOPPABLE!
GAVOK <Cosgrove>: Hey Zoner, want to see a bear ride a motorcycle?
TBS <MZ>: Do I ever!! Let's ROLL!!
> When he got his
> teeth around the bit there was no stopping him.
MMK <Zoner>: This Proton Energy Pill gives me the power of 10 atom bombs in 10 seconds!
> Besides, I didn't
> have anything on the agenda for the excruciatingly near future.
ARL <Gryphon>: Wait, Iron Chef is on... DAMN it!
> Meg looked uncertain -- understandable, really. Zoner's plans
> always sound like harebrained schemes, mainly because they're
> harebrained schemes.
??? <Zoner>: I have a cunning plan, Gryphon.
??? <Gryphon>: Zoner, you wouldn't know a cunning plan if it painted itself purple and danced naked in front of you shouting "Cunning plan, cunning plan!"
> We almost always manage to pull it together,
> though.
> Just about then the food arrived, effectively ending that
> branch of conversation. I could tell Zoner was still thinking about
> it, though; he always gets a bit distant when he's running a major
> background job.
TBS: He might need more RAM.
RACE: Believe me, with Meg in the story, Zoner's going to get all the RAM he needs...
> Instead of duplicating his effort, I mulled over what she had
> told me. Something about it was nagging at me, something had popped
> up a red flag in my memory, but I hadn't been able to pin down what it
> was. I ran through the story again in my head, and then lit on what
> had rung the mental bell.
TBS <Gryphon>: Then I gave it a mental cookie.
MMK: Food for thought?
[ALL groan.]
> "Hey, Meg... did you say you had a brother named Bunji?"
> She blinked at me, then said, "Yeah. Like I said, he's in
> Hong Kong."
> "Is that short for 'Bunjiro'?"
> "Yeah, it is, why?"
> "Well, can you beat that? I know him.
ARL <Zoner>: I met Burt Ward at a gas station.
TBS <Ben>: Damn!
> Well, I've -met- him,
> I know him to say 'hi' to."
> "Really? How'd you meet him?"
GAVOK <Ben>: We played Russian Roulette together.
> "Last time I hit a tournament in Hong Kong he was there," I
> replied. "Not fighting, just watching. He hangs out with Fei Long,
> the kung fu champ." The last time I was in Hong Kong I fought Fei
> Long, and beat him narrowly, with about as much luck as skill;
RACE: And about as much plot contriving as luck and skill *combined*...
> neither
> of us were World Warriors at the time, but he had trained even harder
> after that defeat and had reached the bracket six months before me.
> Zoner blinked. "Oh yeah! The guy who worked Fei Long's
> corner -was- named Bunjiro, wasn't he? I forgot all about it."
> Meg nodded. "Fei Long is helping Bunji get his movie career
> off the ground.
MMK <Norm MacDonald>: Hey, I know what it's called! Box Office Poison!
> He was a big action star before he started street
> fighting. I guess you could say he's Bunji's mentor."
> "Small world, isn't it?"
>
> Our meal over, we hit the awkward stage of the day:
RACE <Ben>: For some reason we agreed that we'd bathe together once every day.
> going our
> separate ways. Evening was hinting at the possibility that it might
> be considering the ramifications of starting to gather in the eastern
> sky,
ARL: "It was getting dark."
> and Zoner and I were heading back to Worcester. Zoner gave Meg
> one of his cards;
S.D. <Meg>: "How to play Black Jack"?
[OR]
S.D. <Meg>: Ooh, a foil Mirari...
> she took another from him, scribbled her number on
> the back of it and returned it,
ARL <Zoner>: 212-479-7990? You've got the same number as the last girl I met...
> then waved off his offer of a lift
> back into town.
> "Driving in Boston with this landmass? I don't think so.
> We're right next to the station, I'll just take the T."
???: I pity da foo who thinks they can take the T.
[Sorry - Rick R.]
> "Well... if you're sure."
> "Relax, I ride the T all the time. I know a thing or two
> about self-defense," she said with a grin.
S.D.: She knows Jeet Kune Do, Tae Bo, Muai Thai and seventeen other very dangerous names of martial arts styles!
[Could use rephrasing...]
> Zoner chuckled. "OK," he said, "but be careful."
> "I will." She stepped up to Zoner and did her best to kiss
> his cheek. "Call me."
> "Count on it. And think about my offer," he added.
TBS: Yes, ma'am, it's an offer you can't... think about without retching.
> "I will, seriously. Nice meeting you, too, Gryphon."
> "It was lovely meeting you, too, and I'm glad you're feeling
> much better," I said. "You're still very pale, though. You need more
> sun."
{I want to put a vampire joke here, but I'm blanking... ~S.D.}
> "You're silly," she said. "I don't even play the cello.
RACE <Zoner>: Uh, what? I said, "You're still very pale, though! You need more sun!"
> Bye!"
> It took me a moment to realize that she had not only parsed my
> reference but come around the back side of it,
ARL: That's nice. Do you mind telling us what the hell it means?
> and by then, she was
> across the street and heading into the big gray bulk of the station,
> past the big silver disc with the 'T' knocked out of it they have
> standing out by the bus stops.
> "You know," I declared as I watched the glass doors close
> behind her, "I believe I like that girl."
> "Yeah," murmured Zoner absently.
>
MMK <Zoner as George>: All right, love...whatever love wants. Just don't start in on the bit, that's all.
> We drove home in relative silence; Zoner was still mulling
> over his offer to Meg, and for that matter, so was I. It had been a
> remarkably weird day, but, oddly enough, not our weirdest.
??? <Gryphon>: The time when we flew out college dorm into outer space, met our nigh-omnipotent benefactor and told Iczer-2 to wait while we agrued before killing us was our weirdest. Maybe.
> When we
> got home, I took Fury for a romp in the park as a reward for staying
> home all day. Fascist hotel administrators, not allowing pets.
GAVOK: Particularly not allowing FURY!
LOONS: YAY FURY!
> Maybe
> I should feign blindness.
ARL: Maybe you should feign being a deaf-mute with no fingers and no computer.
MMK: Easy, there.
> With a bloodhound? Probably wouldn't
> work... them hotel administrators is smart.
> When we returned, panting and damp, an hour later,
MMK: You know, if you thought about it, that sentence could sound really wrong...
[A beat. S.D. and RACE twitch.]
MMK <^_^ing>: Ah, you thought about it, didn't you? I warned you, but did you listen? Nooo...
S.D.: I'm sending all my therapy bills to you, Knight.
> he was in
> the same position on the couch. It had gotten fully dark, but he had
> been too busy thinking to turn on any lights, so I did it before
> heading to the master bathroom for a shower.
RACE: Curiously, though, the light levels remained the same.
S.D. <Gryphon>: So, Zoner... what does it feel like to be a character in a dream?
> When I came back from
> that, wearing old sweats and scrubbing at my hair with a towel, he was
> still there, staring into space. Fury was sitting next to the couch,
> regarding him as one might regard a particularly intriguing piece of
> statuary,
ARL: Like Rodin's lost masterpiece "The Mary Sue"?
S.D.: Oh my God! *The lost Moore!*
{...feel free to switch 'Monet' for a famous sculptor; it's a ref but I can't think of a better person. ~S.D.}
{better? --e}
> but he lost interest when I entered the room, deciding to
> curl up instead next to my armchair.
???: I must say I agree with him.
ALL: YAY FURY!
> I had been thinking about the same things as Zoner, so I
> figured it was time to offer my input.
> "Before you plan the sneak, we should figure out how we're
> going to cover our collective ass."
TBS: "Collective ass?" This is some sort of Commie thing, isn't it?
> He jumped. Apparently he hadn't realized I was sitting there.
> "Huh?" he said, his train of thought derailed.
> "I said," I repeated, "'Before you plan the sneak, we should
> figure out how we're going to cover our collective ass.'"
> He smiled. "You're in, then?"
> "If we do it right," I replied, leaning back and dropping a
> hand to scratch at Fury's ears. "I'm not interested in boosting
> expensive experimental stuff from the government and getting plastered
> all over the wanted lists, but if we can figure out a way to do it at
> least semi-official-like, I have no objection to rounding up some
> equipment and the like."
ARL: So you have no problems stealing top-secret military equipment, so long as you don't get caught. You're a real bastion of morality, you know that?
> "Yeah, that's the angle I've been trying to figure," Zoner
> admitted.
RACE <Zoner>: This one's 2x plus 20, and the ones around it are 3x plus 10, x plus 50 and 5x minus ten...
> "OSI is history and I don't think we can get them
> reinstated; espionage and enforcement have been completely taken out
> of DoD's hands. There are possibilities in the CIA, or maybe the NSA
> or the IMF, although deniabilty is real low when you've got a motif as
> distinctive as the Bionic Six, and now more than ever deniability is
> the name of the game."
MMK: Deniability! By Milton Bradley!
> "MI-5 is too traditional and MI-6 is having budget problems as
> it is," I observed. "Maybe what we need to do is start a new agency.
GAVOK: The Men in Plaid.
> Independent contractors have been used for that kind of work before.
> I'm not talking about freelance operatives like us, who get hired from
> job to job like temp secretaries, I'm talking about whole third-party
> agencies who the Powers that Be
TBS <confused>: Ashby and McLees?
> work with 'cause they get the job
> done. The espionage equivalent of the difference between a lone
> bounty hunter and a well-organized merc army."
> "Isn't Spectrum like that?"
ARL <W. Morgan Clark>: This is the voice of the Mysterons. We know that you can hear us, Earthman.
> "More or less. Right now Spectrum Intel - the Rainbow Group -
> is part of the UN Intel Taskforce under Lethbridge-Stuart, along with
> Cammy's group from MI-6 and some special operatives from Interpol.
> The big anti-Shadolu task force. SHIELD is still independent, though.
GAVOK: YAY NICK FURY!
???: There's a completely pointless Dr Who cameo in all that. How many does it make so far?
> So is International Rescue, come to think of it."
??? (As before): Plus one...
TBS: But what about Action Force? Where do they fit in to all this?
> "Should you even know about that UNIT thing?"
> "Don't see why not - I'm a reserve officer in Spectrum, lest
> you forget; I haven't been activated, but the last time I checked I
> still had Rainbow-level clearance.
S.D.: Just can't hide that pride, can you Zoner?
TBS: Rainbow? Is that better than Ultraviolet or worse than Infrared?
ARL: It's Zoner. Rainbow's higher than the *Computer's* clearance.
> But before you ask, no, Cammy
> didn't tell me. The Brigadier did, oddly enough. He's probably going
> to push Spectrum to activate me so he can draft me one of these days,
> since I work along those same lines anyway in my spare time."
> "Nice work if you can get it." Zoner considered. "If we did
> that, we'd have to get recognition from a couple of the big national
> agencies before anyone would take our new group seriously."
???: I think you've got a lot further to go then that.
> "Yeah," I agreed. "I can talk to Admiral Messervey, Colonel
> White and Nick Fury, but you'll have to deal with NSA and IMF. It's
> certainly feasible -- look at International Rescue.
S.D. <singing>: R-E-S, C-U-E, Rescue Aid Society...
TBS: F.A.B.
> They go so far as
> to keep their identities secret, but they do good work, so nobody
> hassles them."
???: Except for the Claw.
???: Aw, Ben could take him down easy.
> I paused for a moment as a thought hit me. "Still, we
> have to keep in mind - we're never going to get anywhere without the
> cooperation of the CIA. You don't do anything in Western intel
> without at least the CIA's tacit approval."
> "Hmm... " Zoner sat back on the couch and lost himself in
> thought as we both pondered the big question:
GAVOK: Who in their right mind would want to buy a ticket to see Like Mike?
> who did we know in the
> CIA who would go for something this wild, and be senior enough to make
> his support meaningful?
MMK: The answer is, you guessed it, Frank Stallone.
> Click.
> I looked up and saw Zoner looking up at me.
> "Jim Greer," we said together.
> "*3," I said as Zoner grabbed the phone and started searching
> the end table for the Filofax.
S.D. <brightly>: Just dial INTERPOL-*!
> "Thanks," said Zoner, punching the speed-dial code.
> "It's 9:30 on a Saturday night," I pointed out. "He's
> probably not going to be in."
> "You never know," said Zoner. "Hi, yes. My name is Martin
> Zorn, I'd like to speak to Admiral Greer if he's available.
S.D. <secretary>: I'm sorry, he's married.
> Yes, I'll
> hold." There was a somewhat lengthy pause. "Jim? Marty Zorn. Is this
> line secure? Got a few minutes?"
>
> MZ
> "Yes, it's secure. Do you have any idea what time it is?" Jim
> Greer growled at me as I switched him to the speaker phone.
> "9:30," I replied. "What's that got to do with anything? The
> Eyes of Democracy never close in sleep."
MMK: They do take occasional catnaps, however.
> "True," Greer admitted gruffly, then relented. "All right, go
> ahead. I was just going over some old files and materials reqs
> anyway. What's on your mind?"
GAVOK <Zoner>: They call them "fingers" but I've never seen them "fing".
> "Can you pull your file on the Office of Scientific
> Intelligence, used to be part of DoD?
TBS: ...they used to be part of the Damsels of Distress? Don't they need to talk like dirtbags for that?
> They got shut down by the Bush
> administration in '91."
> "OSI? What do you want to know about them?"
??? <Zoner>: It's about those spandex suits of theirs. I want to know where I can get one.
> demanded
> Greer, a suspicious note creeping into his voice.
> "Not much, just the disposition of some of their personnel and
> equipment."
> "Damn it, Zoner, this isn't my lunch order you're asking for,
> you know."
> "I'm well aware of that, Admiral. That's why I called you."
> "You're up to something, aren't you." It wasn't a question.
> "You know us, Jim," Ben interjected. "Always thinking of ways
> to help our fellow human beings. Listen, when Bush shut down OSI a
> bunch of good people got screwed.
RACE <Zoner>: ...and I'm doing all this to make sure a great guy gets screwed, ifyaknowwhatImean.
> We're working on an angle to help
> them out, make it up to them a little, and we thought maybe you could
> give us a hand."
MMK <Ben>: We want you to feud with them until losing a cage match at the PPV and putting them over.
> There was a pause.
> "This is the United States Government you're talking about,"
> said Greer at length. "We don't -do- that sort of thing."
> "Oh, come on, Jim," I said. "You remember what you told me
> and Ryan
S.D.: ...tell me this isn't going to take a left turn into Canada getting invaded by Hello Kitties.
> back during that mess with the IRA? Sometimes you've got to
> forget about the procedures and do the Right Thing.
RACE <MZ>: Screw federal law, I need you to do this so I can score!
???: Tom Clancy cameo...
> Look, just pull
> the files and read 'em, and you'll see what I mean. Read the files
> and then decide, OK?"
> "OK," Greer agreed. "But no promises!"
> "Got a pen?"
ARL <Greer>: That's classified!
> "I'm sitting at my desk, pen in hand, just waiting for you to
> call and give me more work to do."
> "Eternal vigilance," said Gryph, "is the price of liberty."
> "Give me the names," said Greer.
> "OK. Goldman, Oscar. G-O-L-D-M-A-N,
LOONS <chanting>: Goldmaaaaan... Goldmaaaaan...
> just like it sounds.
> Used to be the Director of OSI."
> "Mm hmm."
> "Wells, Dr. Rudy, probably short for Rudolph."
> "Rudy Wells the cyberneticist?"
> "The same. I take it you've heard of him."
> "He did some prosthetics work for the Air Force back in the
> seventies. Nothing ever came of it, as I recall."
> I shot Ben a bemused glance. "Sharp, Dr. Amadeus, that's
> A-M-A-D-E-U-S."
GAVOK: R-O-C-K M-E!
> "Him I've never heard of. Anyone else?"
> "Yes. Six more, all with the same last name, Bennett.
> B-E-N-N-E-T-T. Jack, probably a nickname for John; Helen; Eric; J.D.,
> I don't know what it stands for; Bunjiro; and... " It occurred to me
> that I didn't know if 'Meg' was short for something else. Probably.
> "... and Meg, probably short for Margaret or Megan or some such."
> There was a long pause and the sound of a pen scratching on
> paper.
RACE <paper>: Little lower... ah, right there. Great...
> "OK," said Greer. "I'll pull the files, I'll look them over,
> and then if I'm interested I'll call you and we'll talk about your
> plans. Fair enough?"
> "More than fair," I replied. "Talk to you soon."
> When I hung up, I noticed Gryph was looking thoughtful again;
> presently, he said, "You know, we should probably consider the
> possibility that we're not going to be able to recruit the rest of
> them. From what Meg was telling us, it sounds to me like her brothers
> have their own lives, and it wouldn't surprise me if her parents were
> enjoying their retirement."
> I shrugged. The thought had occurred to me, but what could I
> do about it either way? Not much.
> Wait.
> Jack Bennett.
> My brain did another of those tickle things. I knew that
> name. Where did I know that name from? Argh! I'm terrible with
> names.
TBS: Ooh! I know! He did the voices of Owen, and Brooklyn, and the Archmage!
MMK: That's *Jeff* Bennett.
TBS: Then he must be one of the cast of the original "Dark Shadows".
GAVOK: That's *Joan* Bennett.
[Anyone wanna continue this? -z]
> The next two hours crawled past. I refrained from biting my
> nails, and watched some show about war on the Discovery Channel ("All
> Hitler, all the time").
ARL: Actually, that would be the History Channel. Which makes sense when you think about it; the logo's a giant gilded "H", what else could it stand for? Besides that, Race.
> Gryph, the picture of unconcern, sprawled on
> the other couch reading his book. In his head he was probably
> composing his pitch to Colonel White.
MMK <humming>: Mi mi mi mi mi... so fa mi re do...
[ALL groan.]
> The phone rang. I think I may have picked it up before the
> bell actually started ringing.
> "Jim Greer," said that unmistakable voice. "Where did you get
> this list of people? Those last six are especially interesting, in a
> you-shouldn't-know-about-them sort of way."
GAVOK <Zoner>: I could tell you, but then you'd have to kill me. I mean...
> "Oh, come on, Jim, you're not going to start splitting
> clearances -now-, are you?"
> Greer made an irritated rumbling noise, then relented. "All
> right, I'm assuming you know that the Bennett family used to be
> special operatives."
> "Yes, I know about the Bionic Six."
> "OK, then. Are you going to tell me what you're up to?"
TBS <Terry Jones>: Well, I'm up to about page 39, where Peter Pan first mannyfests 'imself.
> "I know Meg, aka Rock-1, and she isn't dealing with the whole
> 'back to a normal life' thing very well. She didn't have anything to
> fall back on; I'm worried about her."
> "And?"
> "Well, I want to help her out."
> "And?"
> "OK, I was thinking of setting up a front agency for her to
> work for, get some of their gear back, find out what the good doctors
> are up to, etc., etc."
S.D. <Greer>: Face it, you wanna screw her like a bunny in heat.
> Greer sighed. "You can't leave well enough alone, can you."
> "Not when good people get screwed.
RACE <MZ>: Or when good people *could* get screwed. Heh heh...
ARL: Alright Race, Zoner's doing this so he can get laid. Now shut up.
> I'd rather do this without
> having to watch my back the whole time, but either way... So, can you
> help?"
> He took on a cautious tone. "What do you need from me?"
> "First, I need you to stay out of it. I don't want the CIA to
> shut this operation down. The way I look at it, it isn't a threat and
> it may turn into a valuable resource."
ARL: So you think that, even though you're setting up a barely-legal
mercenary-slash-special forces organization both behind the government's back AND under its nose, they're going to be all right with it?
S.D.: Of course they are. It's *Gryphon*. The only time any Earth government got mad at him, all they managed to do besides fuck themselves was blow up the Enterprise in such a way as to both rip off and preclude 'Star Trek: Generations'. [pause] Not that that's a *bad* thing, mind you.
> "OK."
> "Second, I'll need to know the locations of the good doctors
> Wells and Sharp, and any remaining equipment."
> "Your secured fax still the same?"
> "Yes, and the scrambler code is up to date as of last
> Thursday."
> "All right, you'll have that data shortly. And you didn't get
> it from me, you hear? When you're done with it, burn it."
> "Loud and clear, roger wilco. One more thing."
> "Naturally. What would it be?" He had that 'uh-oh' tone in
> his voice.
S.D. <Greer>: He knows I killed Hoffa, doesn't he.
MMK: Ah, Jim Greer Tone #17.
> "If you get other agencies poking around about this, can you
> deflect them for us?"
> "Ohh, no," said Greer in his 'now that's going too far' tone.
MMK: Greer Tone #57!
TBS: I thought that was the "my coffee tastes funny" tone.
MMK: That's #47.
TBS: Ah.
> "The Company is not going to get burned on this one. I'll do what I
> can, but if they catch on, your on you're own. Understand?"
> "Completely."
> "Mr. Hutchins?"
> "Yeah?" Ben replied.
> "Do -you- understand?"
MMK: The part of Greer will be played by Benimaru.
> "I just go where Zoner tells me to and hit the people that
> have to be hit, Jim. Hired muscle with no opinions."
> "Try to be serious, if only for a moment, will you?" came
> Greer's voice, weary-sounding.
> "If you insist. Yes, I understand. Skirting the corners of
> national security is always a chancy business. If we screw up, you'll
> throw us to the wolves. All right?"
MMK: Fury can probably negotiate with the wolves anyway.
TBS <Gaspode the Wonder Dog>: Wolves mate for life, right?
S.D. <lady wolf>: Vell?
TBS <Gaspode>: Wish *I* could.
> "Good enough. Gentlemen?"
> "Yes?" we chimed.
S.D. <singing>: Oranges and lemons, sang the bells of Saint Clemens...
> "Good luck."
> "Thanks." And with that the connection dropped. The fax
> beeped almost immediately.
> "Well, I guess we should start making some calls."
> "Why don't we wait until morning," said Ben. "I hardly think
> anyone will be very favorable at, close to midnight on a Saturday.
> Let alone the Brits - it's what, 5 AM there? I can never remember if
> they do daylight savings time. At any rate, M. might be up, but I
> doubt he wants to talk shop that early in the morning."
> "Yeah, you're right. (They do.)
TBS: But I think they call it Summer Time.
> Ah, it'll give us more time
> to go over this data anyway. Here, this is the stuff on the
> scientists... why don't you talk to them tomorrow. I'll see what I
> can do about the equipment. And, of course, we'll have to talk to a
> few agencies. I'll see what I can do on their systems. If we're
> lucky we'll have all of them thinking the others are behind it."
[There's a riff there, but I can't remember the right line of dialogue to make it with. -z]
> "Yeah, and if we're not they'll all be looking at us."
> "Ah, you have to have the right attitude."
> Ben just glared at me.
> "I'm about to violate the National Security Act and who knows
> what other important laws so you can impress some chick you met at a
> music festival, and you're talking about 'the right attitude'."
> I shrugged.
> "Well, fine," he said, getting up. "I'm going to bed.
> There's no sense violating Federal law without sufficient rest."
MMK: Somewhere in Liberty City, a nameless wheelman has a motivational poster with that phrase on his wall...
TBS: Ooh! I know! He did the voices of Owen, and Brooklyn, and the Archmage!
MMK: That's *Jeff* Bennett.
TBS: Then he must be one of the cast of the original "Dark Shadows".
GAVOK: That's *Joan* Bennett.
TBS: Blonde wrestler, smiles alot, had a guitar?
GAVOK: Jeff Jarret.
TBS: Wasn't he imprisoned in Reading Goal?
MMK: That was *Oscar Wilde,* man.
TBS: Ah, yes. He had that web page. Amusing opening graphic.
GAVOK: No, that was Alex Valle.
TBS: Right. Thanks.
...but Jeff bennet did not voice the Archmage in "Gargoyles", he played the Magus (who was the former apprentice of the Archmage, who was voiced by David Warner).
Sorry to interrupt, please, continue with the MSTing.
---
The Lobe: I went to all the trouble to think up this brilliant plan, the least you can do is chase me around!
<< ...but Jeff bennet did not voice the Archmage in "Gargoyles", he played the Magus (who was the former apprentice of the Archmage, who was voiced by David Warner). >>
Oops.
<< Sorry to interrupt, please, continue with the MSTing. >>
I actually don't know about this web page thing, and I party with the guy once every couple of months. Tell meee~
(Or I could try swapping it with the story of the blue vomit stain on the car window that was said to grant Street Fighter greatness if someone licked it... nahhhh...)
> MZ
> I didn't pay much attention as Ben related his tale.
S.D.: It's okay, neither did we.
> I knew
> it all by now anyway, and he was leaving out a lot of the good bits.
ARL <Zoner>: But that's what the DVD is for.
> My mind was drifting on the topic of finding funds for Meg.
S.D.: Oh, slick. Win her heart with money.
> I know what you're thinking:
MMK <Zoner>: 10 CDs for a dollar? No way!
> "Oh, slick. Win her heart with money." You
> should be ashamed.
S.D.: Don't you *dare* put me on a guilt trip, Zoner!
ARL: He can't hear you, Shady.
S.D.: Look, just... don't start with me, alright?
> The money had nothing to do with it. I just hate
> seeing cool people get a raw deal, and if I can rectify that in some
> way, good.
S.D.: ...hey, *wait* a sec.
RACE: Huh?
S.D.: This isn't Legacy Zoner, it's Symphony Zoner! He's got the 'give lots of money to hot young women I've known for maybe ten minutes cumulatively, minus the attempts at comedy' schtick down *pat*! Just give Meg color-coded hair, and it *is* SotS.
RACE: You know *far* too much about Eyrie.
{More? Edit? ~S.D.}
> And while I felt like a nervous schoolboy hoping the
> object of his crush would give him the time of day,
RACE <Zoner>: And if she doesn't, I'll write her into a fanfic where she does!
ARL <Gryphon>: Uh, Zoner, this is a fanfic and you *are* writing it.
> I wouldn't want
> anyone to like me because of what I did for them. If Meg was going to
> like me I wanted it to be because of me.
ARL: Oh, so he admits the reason why he writes his romances himself.
>Yeah, I tend to get myself
> into weird mental Mobius loops a lot.
TBS: Then he has to run around really fast and get a bunch of emeralds together to stop a really fat guy from taking over a world populated entirely by furries.
S.D. <singing, fast>: Just like a circle in a spiral like a wheel within a wheel...
> But while the personal matter was out of my control, the
> professional was not. Meg would have to decide on her own if that was
> what she wanted. I would never pressure anyone into a decision like
> that;
S.D. <sarcastic>: And you call yourself a self-insertion authour? For shame!
MMK <Zoner>: Of course, I could just write her as agreeing then.
> it isn't fair. But if that is what she wanted, then I would do
> what I could to get it for her.
GAVOK <Zoner>: So I would walk five hundred miles. And I would walk five hundred more. Just to be the man who'd walk a thousand miles and fall down at that door.
> And I was fairly confident that I
> could do it.
RACE <Zoner>: Because I'm good enough, I'm smart enough, and doggone it, people like me!
{Minor edits to fit that skit, but I don't think 'smart' is right... ~S.D.}
> She seemed to be doing what I had done.
TBS: She was getting a tattoo of Spongebob Squarepants on her backside.
> Going to school for
> music seems like a natural course for her, after all, but I could tell
> her heart wasn't really into it. I did the same thing. I loved
> aircraft, I loved to fly, and I had an aptitude for engineering;
S.D.: He had a spanner, a nailgun, some EMP grenades...
GAVOK: ...and karma.
> so it
> seemed natural to major in Aerospace Engineering. Except I found it
> bored me to tears. The hard part was realizing that in the first
> place. I thought it was me, that I just wasn't cut out for college.
> Once I wised up to the root of the problem
ARL <Zoner>: Me.
MMK <Zoner>: And my love for Gryphon...
>and changed majors, I had a
> much better time and actually enjoyed what I was doing.
MMK <Zoner>: Andf who know,s a degree in Medieval Plumbing may yet come in handy.
> Sure, so I
> ended up with a double major in Technical Writing and History. It
> isn't all that unusual for people to have careers in areas completely
> unrelated to their degrees.
RACE <Ryu>: I swear by my computer programming degree that I will become the greatest fighter ever!
> Besides, the History degree comes in
> handy at times on our trips.
GAVOK: Ah. Zoner hangs out with Peabody.
S.D. <Zoner>: Hey Gryph, do you realize that wall you're smashing that mook's head into was constructed in the sixteenth centry to defend against-
ARL <Gryphon>: Not *now*, Zoner...
> So I never got that aerospace degree. But I still loved
> aircraft.
MMK: And we have the pictures to prove it!
RACE: Shut up, Knight.
>Aircraft? Something in the back of my mind was awakening.
TBS <Zoner>: It was late for work and had a breakfast burrito.
> Wait, didn't the Bionic Six have a plane? What was it? I remember
> looking at it almost as much as (ok, more than, I'm a geek) Rock-1. I
> had a big poster of it, an "artist's interpretation", big white and
> red B-1
ARL: Miss.
S.D.: Dammit!
> -like plane chasing an F-4,
S.D.: You hurt my hearse!
ARL: Hah! Take that!
{Continue this Battleship skit? ~S.D.}
{Sam & Max makes everything better. Someone might want to expand, though, I'm not sure I got it right. --e}
> and while I was mentally picturing
> that poster something in my mind went
> click.
GAVOK <John Cleese>: Ah, I see Zoner has a mind that goes "click!"
> "Sky Dancer!"
GAVOK <singing>: Fly for me, fly for me, Sky Dancers fly for me!
S.D. <singing, Japanese>: Toui sora no mannaka de/Dareka o matteiru...
MMK: That's Sky *Dreamer*.
{Continue? ~S.D.}
> Having been interrupted by a seemingly unrelated exclamation,
> Ben looked understandably puzzled.
GAVOK <Zoner>: But then, that's how he always looks, so I couldn't be sure...
{I'm thinking that there needs to be a "Tom Swifty" joke here, but I can't figure it out. --e}
> Meg was momentarily startled, but recovered quickly.
> "What about it?"
> "Whatever happened to it?"
> "Beats me. Last I saw of it the government was taking it
> away.
S.D. <Meg>: They say it knew too much.
MMK <singing, nasally>: Take it awaaay, 'cause it just don't wanna stay, and the lies you make it saaay are gettin' deeper every day...
> They pretty much cleaned out the SPL when they let us all go.
> They loaded Sky Dancer up with the Mule
ARL: ...who rewrote Zoner and Gryphon's minds so that they were totally loyal to him, then took over the universe, only to be stopped at the last minute by *another* smarmy overpowered bastard. The End.
> and the rest of our gear and
> flew it out. I haven't seen it since then. Why?" We had left Ben
> far behind; he had no clue what we were talking about. But he seemed
> comfortable, knowing he'd be sucked into it in the end - whatever it
> was.
GAVOK <Ben>: What's the Sky Dancer?
MMK <Zoner>: Goddammit, Ben! Not everything begins and ends when you say it does! You're out of your element!
S.D. <Meg>: So anyway...
GAVOK <Ben>: I am the Walrus.
MMK <Zoner>: Shut the fuck up, Ben! You're out of your element!
S.D. <Meg>: Fuck it. Let's bowl.
> "Well, it seems a shame to let such a fine aircraft go to
> waste. Maybe we could find it. And if we find it we may find the
> rest of your gear."
S.D.: ...then you can fix it with nanomachines and drive it around between the half-hour long shots of the main characters sitting in the spotlight.
[This may be far too bitter... -RoP]
{It may be, but I'm not quite sure what I'm *saying* there, so it's hard to tell. ^_^;; ~S.D.}
{That was supposed to be "its," right? --e}
>
> G
> Zoner had that gleam in his eyes that meant I was going to get
> sucked into this mess whether or not I wanted to. He had a mission,
> and by God nothing was going to stand in his way.
RACE <Zoner>: I'M UNSTOPPABLE!
GAVOK <Cosgrove>: Hey Zoner, want to see a bear ride a motorcycle?
TBS <MZ>: Do I ever!! Let's ROLL!!
> When he got his
> teeth around the bit there was no stopping him.
MMK <Zoner>: This Proton Energy Pill gives me the power of 10 atom bombs in 10 seconds!
> Besides, I didn't
> have anything on the agenda for the excruciatingly near future.
ARL <Gryphon>: Wait, Iron Chef is on... DAMN it!
> Meg looked uncertain -- understandable, really. Zoner's plans
> always sound like harebrained schemes, mainly because they're
> harebrained schemes.
ARL <Zoner>: I have a cunning plan, Gryphon.
S.D. <Gryphon>: Zoner, you wouldn't know a cunning plan if it painted itself purple and danced naked in front of you shouting "Cunning plan, cunning plan!"
> We almost always manage to pull it together,
> though.
> Just about then the food arrived, effectively ending that
> branch of conversation. I could tell Zoner was still thinking about
> it, though; he always gets a bit distant when he's running a major
> background job.
TBS: He might need more RAM.
RACE: Believe me, with Meg in the story, Zoner's going to get all the RAM he needs...
> Instead of duplicating his effort, I mulled over what she had
> told me. Something about it was nagging at me, something had popped
> up a red flag in my memory, but I hadn't been able to pin down what it
> was. I ran through the story again in my head, and then lit on what
> had rung the mental bell.
TBS <Gryphon>: Then I gave it a mental cookie.
MMK: Food for thought?
[ALL groan.]
> "Hey, Meg... did you say you had a brother named Bunji?"
> She blinked at me, then said, "Yeah. Like I said, he's in
> Hong Kong."
> "Is that short for 'Bunjiro'?"
> "Yeah, it is, why?"
> "Well, can you beat that? I know him.
ARL <Zoner>: I met Burt Ward at a gas station.
TBS <Ben>: Damn!
> Well, I've -met- him,
> I know him to say 'hi' to."
> "Really? How'd you meet him?"
GAVOK <Ben>: We played Russian Roulette together.
> "Last time I hit a tournament in Hong Kong he was there," I
> replied. "Not fighting, just watching. He hangs out with Fei Long,
> the kung fu champ." The last time I was in Hong Kong I fought Fei
> Long, and beat him narrowly, with about as much luck as skill;
RACE: And about as much plot contriving as luck and skill *combined*...
> neither
> of us were World Warriors at the time, but he had trained even harder
> after that defeat and had reached the bracket six months before me.
> Zoner blinked. "Oh yeah! The guy who worked Fei Long's
> corner -was- named Bunjiro, wasn't he? I forgot all about it."
> Meg nodded. "Fei Long is helping Bunji get his movie career
> off the ground.
MMK <Norm MacDonald>: Hey, I know what it's called! Box Office Poison!
> He was a big action star before he started street
> fighting. I guess you could say he's Bunji's mentor."
> "Small world, isn't it?"
>
> Our meal over, we hit the awkward stage of the day:
RACE <Ben>: For some reason we agreed that we'd bathe together once every day.
> going our
> separate ways. Evening was hinting at the possibility that it might
> be considering the ramifications of starting to gather in the eastern
> sky,
ARL: "It was getting dark."
> and Zoner and I were heading back to Worcester. Zoner gave Meg
> one of his cards;
S.D. <Meg>: "How to play Black Jack"?
[OR]
S.D. <Meg>: Ooh, a foil Mirari...
> she took another from him, scribbled her number on
> the back of it and returned it,
ARL <Zoner>: 212-479-7990? You've got the same number as the last girl I met...
> then waved off his offer of a lift
> back into town.
> "Driving in Boston with this landmass? I don't think so.
> We're right next to the station, I'll just take the T."
MMK: I pity da foo who thinks they can take the T.
[Sorry - Rick R.]
> "Well... if you're sure."
> "Relax, I ride the T all the time. I know a thing or two
> about self-defense," she said with a grin.
S.D.: She knows Jeet Kune Do, Tae Bo, Muai Thai and seventeen other very dangerous names of martial arts styles!
[Could use rephrasing...]
> Zoner chuckled. "OK," he said, "but be careful."
> "I will." She stepped up to Zoner and did her best to kiss
> his cheek.
ARL: No, wait, I read that as "did her best to avoid"...
>"Call me."
> "Count on it. And think about my offer," he added.
TBS: Yes, ma'am, it's an offer you can't... think about without retching.
> "I will, seriously.
S.D. <Meg>: Right.
ARL <Meg>: Honest.
MMK <Meg>: For sure!
GAVOK <Meg, thinking>: Keep smiling 'til he's out of sight... Keep smiling 'til he's out of sight... then hurl.
>Nice meeting you, too, Gryphon."
> "It was lovely meeting you, too, and I'm glad you're feeling
> much better," I said. "You're still very pale, though. You need more
> sun."
{I want to put a vampire joke here, but I'm blanking... ~S.D.}
> "You're silly," she said. "I don't even play the cello.
RACE <Zoner>: Uh, what? I said, "You're still very pale, though! You need more sun!"
> Bye!"
> It took me a moment to realize that she had not only parsed my
> reference but come around the back side of it,
ARL: That's nice. Do you mind telling us what the hell it means?
> and by then, she was
> across the street and heading into the big gray bulk of the station,
> past the big silver disc with the 'T' knocked out of it they have
> standing out by the bus stops.
> "You know," I declared as I watched the glass doors close
> behind her, "I believe I like that girl."
> "Yeah," murmured Zoner absently.
MMK <Zoner as George>: All right, love...whatever love wants. Just don't start in on the bit, that's all.
> We drove home in relative silence; Zoner was still mulling
> over his offer to Meg, and for that matter, so was I. It had been a
> remarkably weird day, but, oddly enough, not our weirdest.
S.D. <Gryphon>: The time when we flew out college dorm into outer space, met our nigh-omnipotent benefactor and told Iczer-2 to wait while we agrued before killing us was our weirdest. Maybe.
> When we
> got home, I took Fury for a romp in the park as a reward for staying
> home all day. Fascist hotel administrators, not allowing pets.
GAVOK: Particularly not allowing FURY!
LOONS: YAY FURY!
> Maybe
> I should feign blindness.
ARL: Maybe you should feign being a deaf-mute with no fingers and no computer.
MMK: Easy, there.
> With a bloodhound? Probably wouldn't
> work... them hotel administrators is smart.
> When we returned, panting and damp, an hour later,
MMK: You know, if you thought about it, that sentence could sound really wrong...
[A beat. S.D. and RACE twitch.]
MMK <^_^ing>: Ah, you thought about it, didn't you? I warned you, but did you listen? Nooo...
S.D.: I'm sending all my therapy bills to you, Knight.
> he was in
> the same position on the couch. It had gotten fully dark, but he had
> been too busy thinking to turn on any lights, so I did it before
> heading to the master bathroom for a shower.
RACE: Curiously, though, the light levels remained the same.
S.D. <Gryphon>: So, Zoner... what does it feel like to be a character in a dream?
> When I came back from
> that, wearing old sweats and scrubbing at my hair with a towel, he was
> still there, staring into space. Fury was sitting next to the couch,
> regarding him as one might regard a particularly intriguing piece of
> statuary,
ARL: Like Rodin's lost masterpiece "The Mary Sue"?
S.D.: Oh my God! *The lost Moore!*
{...feel free to switch 'Monet' for a famous sculptor; it's a ref but I can't think of a better person. ~S.D.}
{better? --e}
> but he lost interest when I entered the room, deciding to
> curl up instead next to my armchair.
MMK: I must say I agree with him.
ALL: YAY FURY!
> I had been thinking about the same things as Zoner, so I
> figured it was time to offer my input.
> "Before you plan the sneak, we should figure out how we're
> going to cover our collective ass."
TBS: "Collective ass?" This is some sort of Commie thing, isn't it?
> He jumped. Apparently he hadn't realized I was sitting there.
> "Huh?" he said, his train of thought derailed.
> "I said," I repeated, "'Before you plan the sneak, we should
> figure out how we're going to cover our collective ass.'"
> He smiled. "You're in, then?"
S.D. <Gryphon>: As a third wheel, yeah.
> "If we do it right," I replied, leaning back and dropping a
> hand to scratch at Fury's ears. "I'm not interested in boosting
> expensive experimental stuff from the government and getting plastered
> all over the wanted lists, but if we can figure out a way to do it at
> least semi-official-like, I have no objection to rounding up some
> equipment and the like."
ARL: So you have no problems stealing top-secret military equipment, so long as you don't get caught. You're a real bastion of morality, you know that?
> "Yeah, that's the angle I've been trying to figure," Zoner
> admitted.
RACE <Zoner>: This one's 2x plus 20, and the ones around it are 3x plus 10, x plus 50 and 5x minus ten...
> "OSI is history and I don't think we can get them
> reinstated; espionage and enforcement have been completely taken out
> of DoD's hands. There are possibilities in the CIA, or maybe the NSA
> or the IMF, although deniabilty is real low when you've got a motif as
> distinctive as the Bionic Six, and now more than ever deniability is
> the name of the game."
MMK: Deniability! By Milton Bradley!
> "MI-5 is too traditional and MI-6 is having budget problems as
> it is," I observed. "Maybe what we need to do is start a new agency.
GAVOK: The Men in Plaid.
> Independent contractors have been used for that kind of work before.
> I'm not talking about freelance operatives like us, who get hired from
> job to job like temp secretaries, I'm talking about whole third-party
> agencies who the Powers that Be
TBS <confused>: Ashby and McLees?
> work with 'cause they get the job
> done. The espionage equivalent of the difference between a lone
> bounty hunter and a well-organized merc army."
> "Isn't Spectrum like that?"
ARL <W. Morgan Clark>: This is the voice of the Mysterons. We know that you can hear us, Earthman.
> "More or less. Right now Spectrum Intel - the Rainbow Group -
> is part of the UN Intel Taskforce under Lethbridge-Stuart, along with
> Cammy's group from MI-6 and some special operatives from Interpol.
> The big anti-Shadolu task force. SHIELD is still independent, though.
GAVOK: YAY NICK FURY!
S.D.: There's a completely pointless Dr. Who cameo in all that. How many does it make so far?
> So is International Rescue, come to think of it."
RACE <as before>: Plus one...
TBS: But what about Action Force? Where do they fit in to all this?
> "Should you even know about that UNIT thing?"
> "Don't see why not - I'm a reserve officer in Spectrum, lest
> you forget; I haven't been activated, but the last time I checked I
> still had Rainbow-level clearance.
S.D.: Just can't hide that pride, can you Zoner?
TBS: Rainbow? Is that better than Ultraviolet or worse than Infrared?
ARL: It's Zoner. Rainbow's higher than the *Computer's* clearance.
> But before you ask, no, Cammy
> didn't tell me. The Brigadier did, oddly enough. He's probably going
> to push Spectrum to activate me so he can draft me one of these days,
> since I work along those same lines anyway in my spare time."
> "Nice work if you can get it." Zoner considered. "If we did
> that, we'd have to get recognition from a couple of the big national
> agencies before anyone would take our new group seriously."
???: I think you've got a lot further to go then that.
> "Yeah," I agreed. "I can talk to Admiral Messervey, Colonel
> White and Nick Fury, but you'll have to deal with NSA and IMF. It's
> certainly feasible -- look at International Rescue.
S.D. <singing>: R-E-S, C-U-E, Rescue Aid Society...
TBS: F.A.B.
> They go so far as
> to keep their identities secret, but they do good work, so nobody
> hassles them."
???: Except for the Claw.
???: Aw, Ben could take him down easy.
> I paused for a moment as a thought hit me. "Still, we
> have to keep in mind - we're never going to get anywhere without the
> cooperation of the CIA. You don't do anything in Western intel
> without at least the CIA's tacit approval."
MMK <Zoner>: You have to fill up form A-1969-B in quintuplicate and submit your right arm for decontamination.
> "Hmm... " Zoner sat back on the couch and lost himself in
> thought as we both pondered the big question:
GAVOK: Who in their right mind would want to buy a ticket to see Like Mike?
> who did we know in the
> CIA who would go for something this wild, and be senior enough to make
> his support meaningful?
MMK: The answer is, you guessed it, Frank Stallone.
> Click.
> I looked up and saw Zoner looking up at me.
> "Jim Greer," we said together.
> "*3," I said as Zoner grabbed the phone and started searching
> the end table for the Filofax.
S.D. <brightly>: Just dial INTERPOL-*!
> "Thanks," said Zoner, punching the speed-dial code.
> "It's 9:30 on a Saturday night," I pointed out. "He's
> probably not going to be in."
> "You never know," said Zoner. "Hi, yes. My name is Martin
> Zorn, I'd like to speak to Admiral Greer if he's available.
S.D. <secretary>: I'm sorry, he's married.
> Yes, I'll
> hold." There was a somewhat lengthy pause. "Jim? Marty Zorn. Is this
> line secure? Got a few minutes?"
>
> MZ
> "Yes, it's secure. Do you have any idea what time it is?" Jim
> Greer growled at me as I switched him to the speaker phone.
> "9:30," I replied. "What's that got to do with anything? The
> Eyes of Democracy never close in sleep."
MMK: They do take occasional catnaps, however.
> "True," Greer admitted gruffly, then relented. "All right, go
> ahead. I was just going over some old files and materials reqs
> anyway. What's on your mind?"
GAVOK <Zoner>: They call them "fingers" but I've never seen them "fing".
> "Can you pull your file on the Office of Scientific
> Intelligence, used to be part of DoD?
TBS: ...they used to be part of the Damsels of Distress? Don't they need to talk like dirtbags for that?
> They got shut down by the Bush
> administration in '91."
> "OSI? What do you want to know about them?"
??? <Zoner>: It's about those spandex suits of theirs. I want to know where I can get one.
> demanded
> Greer, a suspicious note creeping into his voice.
> "Not much, just the disposition of some of their personnel and
> equipment."
> "Damn it, Zoner, this isn't my lunch order you're asking for,
> you know."
> "I'm well aware of that, Admiral. That's why I called you."
> "You're up to something, aren't you." It wasn't a question.
> "You know us, Jim," Ben interjected. "Always thinking of ways
> to help our fellow human beings. Listen, when Bush shut down OSI a
> bunch of good people got screwed.
RACE <Zoner>: ...and I'm doing all this to make sure a great guy gets screwed, ifyaknowwhatImean.
> We're working on an angle to help
> them out, make it up to them a little, and we thought maybe you could
> give us a hand."
MMK <Ben>: We want you to feud with them until losing a cage match at the PPV and putting them over.
> There was a pause.
> "This is the United States Government you're talking about,"
> said Greer at length. "We don't -do- that sort of thing."
> "Oh, come on, Jim," I said. "You remember what you told me
> and Ryan
S.D.: ...tell me this isn't going to take a left turn into Canada getting invaded by Hello Kitties.
> back during that mess with the IRA? Sometimes you've got to
> forget about the procedures and do the Right Thing.
RACE <MZ>: Screw federal law, I need you to do this so I can score!
S.D.: Tom Clancy cameo...
> Look, just pull
> the files and read 'em, and you'll see what I mean. Read the files
> and then decide, OK?"
> "OK," Greer agreed. "But no promises!"
> "Got a pen?"
ARL <Greer>: That's classified!
> "I'm sitting at my desk, pen in hand, just waiting for you to
> call and give me more work to do."
> "Eternal vigilance," said Gryph, "is the price of liberty."
> "Give me the names," said Greer.
> "OK. Goldman, Oscar. G-O-L-D-M-A-N,
LOONS <chanting>: Goldmaaaaan... Goldmaaaaan...
> just like it sounds.
> Used to be the Director of OSI."
> "Mm hmm."
> "Wells, Dr. Rudy, probably short for Rudolph."
> "Rudy Wells the cyberneticist?"
> "The same. I take it you've heard of him."
MMK <Greer>: Nope, doesn't ring a bell.
> "He did some prosthetics work for the Air Force back in the
> seventies. Nothing ever came of it, as I recall."
> I shot Ben a bemused glance. "Sharp, Dr. Amadeus, that's
> A-M-A-D-E-U-S."
GAVOK: R-O-C-K M-E!
> "Him I've never heard of. Anyone else?"
> "Yes. Six more, all with the same last name, Bennett.
> B-E-N-N-E-T-T. Jack, probably a nickname for John; Helen; Eric; J.D.,
> I don't know what it stands for; Bunjiro; and... " It occurred to me
> that I didn't know if 'Meg' was short for something else. Probably.
> "... and Meg, probably short for Margaret or Megan or some such."
> There was a long pause and the sound of a pen scratching on
> paper.
RACE <paper>: Little lower... ah, right there. Great...
> "OK," said Greer. "I'll pull the files, I'll look them over,
> and then if I'm interested I'll call you and we'll talk about your
> plans. Fair enough?"
> "More than fair," I replied. "Talk to you soon."
> When I hung up, I noticed Gryph was looking thoughtful again;
> presently, he said, "You know, we should probably consider the
> possibility that we're not going to be able to recruit the rest of
> them. From what Meg was telling us, it sounds to me like her brothers
> have their own lives, and it wouldn't surprise me if her parents were
> enjoying their retirement."
> I shrugged. The thought had occurred to me, but what could I
> do about it either way? Not much.
> Wait.
> Jack Bennett.
> My brain did another of those tickle things. I knew that
> name. Where did I know that name from? Argh! I'm terrible with
> names.
TBS: Ooh! I know! He did the voices of Owen, and Brooklyn, and the Magus!
MMK: That's *Jeff* Bennett.
TBS: Then he must be one of the cast of the original "Dark Shadows".
GAVOK: That's *Joan* Bennett.
TBS: Blonde wrestler, smiles alot, had a guitar?
GAVOK: Jeff Jarret.
TBS: Wasn't he imprisoned in Reading Goal?
MMK: That was *Oscar Wilde,* man.
TBS: Ah, yes. He had that web page. Amusing opening graphic.
GAVOK: No, that was Alex Valle.
TBS: Right. Thanks.
[Anyone wanna continue this? -z]
> The next two hours crawled past. I refrained from biting my
> nails, and watched some show about war on the Discovery Channel ("All
> Hitler, all the time").
ARL: Actually, that would be the History Channel. Which makes sense when you think about it; the logo's a giant gilded "H", what else could it stand for? [a beat] Besides that, Race.
> Gryph, the picture of unconcern, sprawled on
> the other couch reading his book. In his head he was probably
> composing his pitch to Colonel White.
MMK <humming>: Mi mi mi mi mi... so fa mi re do...
[ALL groan.]
> The phone rang. I think I may have picked it up before the
> bell actually started ringing.
> "Jim Greer," said that unmistakable voice. "Where did you get
> this list of people? Those last six are especially interesting, in a
> you-shouldn't-know-about-them sort of way."
GAVOK <Zoner>: I could tell you, but then you'd have to kill me. I mean...
> "Oh, come on, Jim, you're not going to start splitting
> clearances -now-, are you?"
> Greer made an irritated rumbling noise, then relented. "All
> right, I'm assuming you know that the Bennett family used to be
> special operatives."
> "Yes, I know about the Bionic Six."
MMK: As did any kid with a TV in the 80's...
> "OK, then. Are you going to tell me what you're up to?"
TBS <Terry Jones>: Well, I'm up to about page 39, where Peter Pan first mannyfests 'imself.
> "I know Meg, aka Rock-1, and she isn't dealing with the whole
> 'back to a normal life' thing very well. She didn't have anything to
> fall back on; I'm worried about her."
> "And?"
> "Well, I want to help her out."
> "And?"
> "OK, I was thinking of setting up a front agency for her to
> work for, get some of their gear back, find out what the good doctors
> are up to, etc., etc."
S.D. <Greer>: Face it, you wanna screw her like a bunny in heat.
> Greer sighed. "You can't leave well enough alone, can you."
> "Not when good people get screwed.
RACE <MZ>: Or when good people *could* get screwed. Heh heh...
ARL: Alright Race, Zoner's doing this so he can get laid. Now shut up.
> I'd rather do this without
> having to watch my back the whole time, but either way... So, can you
> help?"
> He took on a cautious tone. "What do you need from me?"
RACE <Zoner>: Guns. Lots of guns.
> "First, I need you to stay out of it. I don't want the CIA to
> shut this operation down. The way I look at it, it isn't a threat and
> it may turn into a valuable resource."
ARL: So you think that, even though you're setting up a barely-legal
mercenary-slash-special forces organization both behind the government's back AND under its nose, they're going to be all right with it?
S.D.: Of course they are. It's *Gryphon*. The only time any Earth government got mad at him, all they managed to do besides fuck themselves was blow up the Enterprise in such a way as to both rip off and preclude 'Star Trek: Generations'. [pause] Not that that's a *bad* thing, mind you.
> "OK."
S.D.: Right. Some guy calls up in the middle of the night and demands that your agency not interfere with anything and without telling you why and you just go along with it, Mr. Big Shot CIA Guy?
[Pause]
ARL: Yeah, what she said.
> "Second, I'll need to know the locations of the good doctors
> Wells and Sharp, and any remaining equipment."
> "Your secured fax still the same?"
> "Yes, and the scrambler code is up to date as of last
> Thursday."
> "All right, you'll have that data shortly. And you didn't get
> it from me, you hear? When you're done with it, burn it."
> "Loud and clear, roger wilco. One more thing."
> "Naturally. What would it be?" He had that 'uh-oh' tone in
> his voice.
S.D. <Greer>: He knows I killed Hoffa, doesn't he.
MMK: Ah, Jim Greer Tone #17.
> "If you get other agencies poking around about this, can you
> deflect them for us?"
> "Ohh, no," said Greer in his 'now that's going too far' tone.
MMK: Greer Tone #57!
TBS: I thought that was the "my coffee tastes funny" tone.
MMK: That's #47.
TBS: Ah.
> "The Company is not going to get burned on this one. I'll do what I
> can, but if they catch on, your on you're own. Understand?"
> "Completely."
> "Mr. Hutchins?"
> "Yeah?" Ben replied.
> "Do -you- understand?"
MMK: The part of Greer will be played by Benimaru.
> "I just go where Zoner tells me to and hit the people that
> have to be hit, Jim. Hired muscle with no opinions."
> "Try to be serious, if only for a moment, will you?" came
> Greer's voice, weary-sounding.
> "If you insist. Yes, I understand. Skirting the corners of
> national security is always a chancy business. If we screw up, you'll
> throw us to the wolves. All right?"
MMK: Fury can probably negotiate with the wolves anyway.
TBS <Gaspode the Wonder Dog>: Wolves mate for life, right?
S.D. <lady wolf>: Vell?
TBS <Gaspode>: Wish *I* could.
> "Good enough. Gentlemen?"
> "Yes?" we chimed.
S.D. <singing>: Oranges and lemons, sang the bells of Saint Clemens...
> "Good luck."
> "Thanks." And with that the connection dropped. The fax
> beeped almost immediately.
> "Well, I guess we should start making some calls."
> "Why don't we wait until morning," said Ben. "I hardly think
> anyone will be very favorable at, close to midnight on a Saturday.
> Let alone the Brits - it's what, 5 AM there? I can never remember if
> they do daylight savings time. At any rate, M. might be up, but I
> doubt he wants to talk shop that early in the morning."
> "Yeah, you're right. (They do.)
TBS: But I think they call it Summer Time.
> Ah, it'll give us more time
> to go over this data anyway. Here, this is the stuff on the
> scientists... why don't you talk to them tomorrow. I'll see what I
> can do about the equipment. And, of course, we'll have to talk to a
> few agencies. I'll see what I can do on their systems. If we're
> lucky we'll have all of them thinking the others are behind it."
[There's a riff there, but I can't remember the right line of dialogue to make it with. -z]
> "Yeah, and if we're not they'll all be looking at us."
> "Ah, you have to have the right attitude."
> Ben just glared at me.
> "I'm about to violate the National Security Act and who knows
> what other important laws so you can impress some chick you met at a
> music festival, and you're talking about 'the right attitude'."
> I shrugged.
> "Well, fine," he said, getting up. "I'm going to bed.
> There's no sense violating Federal law without sufficient rest."
MMK: Somewhere in Liberty City, a nameless wheelman has a motivational poster with that phrase on his wall...