Comics by Shaenon II

[Professor Zobot]

(Hey guys! I'm feeling a bit better now. I'm gonna just go ahead and say I'm back. Might as well. Anyways, I did some writing earlier today, and I finally finished the conclusion to the story I started earlier. After thinking for a bit, I'm going to go ahead and declare it canon. It just seems to make sense that it's what David's been doing while I've been away. So, without further ado, I present...)

The Nega-Files: David Vs. Zobot, Part 2: Ninja Handjive Edition

It was David who made the first move. Running forward, he twisted his body and thrust his robotic arm straight at his doppleganger's head. Nega-Zobot grinned, bending his knees as David's arm whizzed past his head. He responded with a punch to David's stomach, knocking the wind out of him. "Too slow, hero!" he hopped backwards as David doubled over and wheezed for air.
David frowned and pointed up with his metal arm. The palm opened as two mini-missles fired out of it. His alternate smirked. “Relying on that old trick? Yikes!” He rolled as the missles flew at him, ducking behind a bush. Both missles exploded harmlessly where he had once stood. “If your arm is anything like mine, you only have one missle left to be useless with. Disappointing.” Leaving the protection of his bush, he walked back between the two craters left by the mini-missles. “Ah hah hah hah ha ha ha! Show me power, 'hero!' My fighting style is flawless.”
Then he felt a cold, steel hand clamp around his throat. His body tensed as David lifted him, then tossed him into the bush he had dived behind. Standing up, Zobot frowned, his body wobbling from the impact. “Alright, so you're a little clever. Using those missles as a distraction wasn't something I would have expected.” He grinned devilishly, and his mechanical arm made a fist. “You should have just crushed my throat... but you wouldn't do that, would you? Goody-two-shoes.”
David sighed. “Are you done acting yet?”
His double paused and raised an eyebrow. “Hm?”
“You're baiting me. Trying to control my behavior and make me predictible by making me mad. Acting like more of a jerk than you are. I mean...pausing to laugh? Claiming that you are 'flawless'?” He locked eyes with Toboz. “Either you're acting meglomanical and failing to be convincing, or you're just stupid.”
“Hm.” Zobot narrowed his eyes. “You really believe that, don't you?” He pushed up his glasses, just in time to narrowly leap away.
David propelled himself forward with his arm's rocket boosters, barely missing his double and impacting a pine tree with force that would shatter stone. “Woah...” He stood up, his head still spinning from the rush. "Of course I do. Situations like this are all about control: who has it, how, and what they're doing with it. I can't let you control me by pushing my buttons or I've already lost.”
Nega-Zobot grinned. “I was wondering what sort of person you were.” He shifted his body left as David swung his fist at his double. “But you'll have to forgive me... when you've worn a mask for so long, it becomes part of who you are. Perception begats identity.” An impish smile grew along his face.
“I don't understand what you're saying!” David crouched and lunged, slamming into Nega-Zobot, knocking them both to the ground. “But if that's all you've got, then we're done here.” He smiled “And good riddence.”
Zobot swung his android arm upward, striking David in the face and knocking him to the left, falling off of his double. “I mean that what you see is only a part of the whole, not a mask. Part of a whole... just like this.” Reaching into his pocket, Zobot pulled out a small remote, pushing a button on it and laughing manically.
David raised an eyebrow. “I don't get it. Was that supposed to do some-” Straight ahead of him reality itself began to warp... and a giant metal leg burst forth from nowhere, arcing back and kicking him. It slowly pulled back through the rift, which quickly vanished. His body aching, he pushed himself off the ground. “Ok, no fair... you have giant robots?”
“AND access to Andy's riftmaker! With both of them hooked up to this universal remote, I can attack you from anywhere!” Zobot pushed another button. A humongous metal fist slammed into David from behind, knocking him to the ground again. “You can't even dodge it, because you don't know where the next blow will come from!”
Another fist surged down from above, trying to flatten David. He grinned. “But I can block!” He swung his robot arm up in the air, parrying the giant robot fist attacking him. It delayed the arm's descent for about 3 picoseconds before it knocked him flat.
Zobot sneered. “Learn basic physics. You didn't have a fourth of the density you'd need to stop an object with that much force.”
David stood up, his whole body aching. It was time to reevaluate the situation. He couldn't stop the robot's attacks. He couldn't attack it back, because it was in a parallel universe. However...its master wasn't. David gave a loud cry and charged forward straight at Zobot.
Zobot grinned. “Predictible.” The air right in front of Zobot began to distort, as a giant fist flew at David.
David pointed his arm at the ground and fired his last mini-missle. “Nice try!” the explosion sent him flying into the air, landing on the length of the metal appendage as it started pulling back through the rift, carrying him with it.
Zobot's eyes widened “That was...strange.” he looked at his remote, pushing buttons and getting increasingly angry. Several minutes passed. Then the air distorted again, and David went flying through the rift, landing down next to Zobot. David's alternate sneered at him. “What did you DO? Why won't my robot respond!”
David grinned. “Well, I had to do something...so I reprogrammed the whole thing. It's off spreading peace and joy right now. Jumping between realities is a real rush, by the way!”
“That's impossible! No one could reprogram my ingenious creation that fast!”
David shrugged. “Modifying things is pretty much all I'm good at, but I do it well.”
Zobot scowled. “Well, it appears I have to cut this little battle short. I have a robot to fix. I'll let you say you won.” He sighed and began inputting the coordinates for his trip home. “But David... why do you think I stopped being a hero? I regained my memories. I could have returned to walking the good path.”
“You were seduced! Or you just gave into your own selfish desires.” David narrowed his eyes.
“Incorrect... it's because fighting the good fight is pointless.” Nega-Zobot turned around and faced David. “Remember this, other me: Villians need only win once, but a good guy has to save the world over and over again... and even if they win, it's rarely without losing something of theirs that can't be regained. And in the grand scheme of things, no one really cares about what happens in life. If I took over this whole world tomorrow... people would whine and moan and complain, but after one generation they'd have gotten used to it, and after two they'd be be depending on me for leadership. Heroes aren't needed at all.”
“T-that's not true! It can't be.” David felt cold.
Nega-Zobot removed his glasses and stared into David's eyes. “Perhaps you feel that way now... but even if we are different, we are similar as well. I've seen a you who felt the same way I did.” he sniffed. “You went into a future once. I only looked into one.” A rift opened behind him. “Your future self came to the same conclusion I did... Eventually you'll see that truth as well. So think about that, David. Eventually, you'll either die, or become just like him...and like me.” Nega-Zobot vanished into the rift, which slowly closed behind him. And in his passing, David lay on the earth, too tired to move.

And he wept.

[That Guy]

Don't Listen to him David Villains need Heroes. Who else would they beat up. And they have to give their Megalomaniac Speeches to someone.

[chicgeek]

Just because a hero can't save everyone, doesn't mean that they don't have a tremendous impact on the individuals they aid. A hero is more about saving *people*, than saving the world.
Look at the more enduring heroic myths and legends. Even if they eventually bite it, saving their world from a fearsome foe-
Most of the stories are about individual good deeds, single lives saved, helped, and inspired.
And *those* are the tales that never die.
So yeah, maybe Nega has a point about not changing the world.
But he's missed the bigger point entirely.

[Professor_Tinker]

Where you get bogged down is in thinking that it's winning that matters. The point is helping people.
But it seems like David got the right message from it all- you can't do it alone.

[Professor Zobot]

The opinions spouted by my characters does not necessarily reflect the ideas or convictions of the author himself, although I'm fairly sure everyone knew that already.

Tinker kinda nailed one difference between Nega-Zobot (Maybe I should shorten it to Nobot?) and David: Nobot identifies most things in a "winning and losing" perspective whereas David sees things differently. Nobot HATES to lose at anything, and is relentlessly competitive, (one of the reasons that he challenged his alternate) whereas David tends to be more amiable in general. I thought, since we don't get to see a lot of differences between the two in the piece, that I'd illustrate other differences between them:

-Nobot: Attempts to manipulate circumstances and people by exposing them to different stimuli. An example of this was the attitude he displayed towards David: He acted more megalomaniac and "old-school" villainish in order to get David mad and make him act recklessly
-David: Attempts to understand his own behavior and how other people expect him to act, and alters his actions accordingly. We've seen signs of this before, during Hero's Quest. (Most clearly verses Narbon and Sayasuke)

-Nobot: Extroverted, but guards his personal thoughts and feelings very closely. I imagine him as being very chatty but rarely confides about personal things to anyone.
-David: Introverted but wears his heart on his sleeve. Less talkative, partially because he's not really sure what people talk about. However, he is very open about his feelings and emotions, sometimes even telling the wrong things to the wrong people.

-Nobot: Prefers checkers over chess
-David: Would prefer chess over checkers. (If he ever remembered playing either one)

Regarding the hero issue: It's difficult to say. What Nobot was trying to say was that entropy always wins, and heroes typically go against entropy. A villain only has to take over the world once to "win" whereas a hero might be expected to stop evil plots over and over again, and is undoubtedly going to lose something valuable in his attempts. Think of how tragic it would be to Peter Parker if one of his arch-nemesises killed Mary Jane or his Aunt because of who he was. As a general rule, villains usually employ a lot less restraint than heroes do.

Of course, that's hardly universal. I don't think Eric Tinker's arch-nemesis, for example, would have gotten so personal as to kidnap Eric's child and wife and try to kill them to cause Eric pain. He didn't seem the type, and also Kathleen Risk would have made him regret the attempt. Villains in the Mad Sci Wars haven't usually taken the good/evil struggle so personally.

Then there's also the general dynamic of heroes and villains to consider. Bad guys in stories are typically the agents of change: they kill people, destroy things, and alter the world in drastic ways. In contrast, good guys are a lot more reactive. You don't hear as many stories about how good guys set out to do something good (like say, set up a new charity for starving infants or something) and struggle to see it through. (There are exceptions, such as "Mr. Smith Goes To Washington," however) Good guys in most works of fiction arise as defenders of the Status Quo, fighting to preserve, undo, or correct what villains have already threatened, caused, or wronged. Looking at it from that perspective, if the hero(s) have lost any ground by the end of the story, then they've "lost" something. This is what Nobot was hitting at, because this is what I imagine his perspective would be.

There's another side of the story, and if I keep writing for David the way he is, we'll probably see him come to understand it. But at it's core, Tinker hit the nail on the head: It's about helping people, plain and simple.

Woof. I ended up writing a lot more than I thought I would. Sorry, this has been a concept I've thought about a lot. Anyways, this isn't really the place for such a discussion, so I'll just cut it off here. Glad to see people enjoyed the story!

[Professor_Tinker]

(Confused? See Acts One and Two. Once again, 'Tinker' refers to Nega-Tinker)

Tinker picked up his wineglass now that the story was done, elegantly filling it with the last of the wine- he had wasted half of it breaking glasses, thanks to Zobot.

"That's all?" asked Zobot, raising an eyebrow.

"All that matters. There were further happenings, of course. I caused some mayhem in his universe, he chased me back into mine. Dear Primary ended up writing some agreements up with his alternate, basic formality's and rules and such. But none of that really matters- fun though it was." he sat again, setting his glasses aside.

"What about that was supposed to be such a deep, dark secret? You accidentally contacted an alternate universe, fought with your alternate-"

"I failed." he hissed, staring resolutely out the window.

Zobot blinked, noting the sudden tension in Andy's form.
It wasn't about the failure. It was about his father. He had even admitted in telling the story that he hadn't even been betting on bringing hi back to life. He'd just wanted to have his fathers body back.

He put an arm around his shoulders, ruffling his hair.
"You can try again." he suggested.

"No. I can't. Not until I know *exactly* what coordinate I need, and I can be sure the machine will work. It's going to take years." he said bitterly, roughly wiping his eyes.

Zobot grabbed his hand, taking out a handkerchief and wiping his eyes for him.
"Don't rub your face like that- you'll scratch yourself." he chided him.

"...bah. Stop coddling me." said Tinker roughly, covering for his earlyer emotional state.

"I can't do that. When I meet your father, I want him to like me." he retorted.
After a moment of silence, Tinker 'Humph'ed and shifted closer to him, smiling just the tiniest bit.

It was the way they were- even if they ever did think that the other was manipulating him, they didn't care.

[SoItBegins]

Wow. Nice stuff!

[chicgeek]

Dr.Omega touches the stinging slash on his cheek. Eyes narrowed, fingers sticky with blood, he meets the enraged glare of his foe.
"Ah, my dear...Goodbody, you are so lovely when you are angry." His voice is deceptively calm, as he cooly bats her rapier aside.
Anger has made her rash, as she heedlessly lunges again.
Tack! Tink!
"You...you bastard! Do you have *any* idea how long I'd been planning? The months of research? "
"Why yes, my dear-" beating aside her thrust-"I found it quite helpful. You did your usual thorough job."
Ha! She's letting her rage interfere with her swordplay. Omega smiles thinly, and continues to taunt her.
"careful, my dear-"she parries frantically.
"Don't call me that!"-he ripostes elegantly.
"You've left your whole left side exposed." And-disarm!
Smiling ruefully, he pulls out a pristine white handkerchief from his jacket, and holds it to his cheek.
She smiles wickedly at the sight. "Looks like you'll have another'dueling scar', Omega."
"Vilhelm, my dear Penelope, Vilhelm. Was it necessary to burn down my villa?"
".....You stole my Botticelli!"
"It wasn't yours yet. Come now, things will look better over a late dinner. I have taken the liberty of making reservations at your favorite place."
"Oh, all right...But nothing flambe. Not after what you did last time."
"Sheerest accident, I assure you. Pity about what happened to those papers of yours..."
"Hmmf. Oh, all right. But just dinner."
"But of course."

A year later-
"Mein Gott! When..." Dr. Omega is momentarily speechless. "That night in Minsk?"
"No, it was that night at the Acropolis."
"Ah, you were so lovely under the moonlight."
"And you were such a good target."
"Heh. What now, my dear?"
"Well...for one thing, I want her to have your name."
"You mean..."
"What I mean is that she's not going through what I did! Do you know how hard it is to be taken seriously in the world of academia with a name like Goodbody?"
'Especially when one is as lovely as you. So..."
"Oh, we've tried living together. It doesn't work, and this doesn't change that. But she's as much your daughter as mine. So...we share her. Give her a happy life."
"Yes...let me hold her."

Dr.Minerva Dries has found countless precious objects in her lifelong search for stories, but there are only two she cherishes. A small portrait of her father, done in her mother's exquisite hand. And her mother's treasued Botticelli.

Okay, it's sappy. But I wanted to write a scene with Dr. Omega, and Dr.Goodbody. Mad professors,sworn rivals with a lifelong attraction.
So sue me-I'm sure it'll get angsty soon enough!

[Desius]

'Nother random thought rang through my head, and while I should be concentrating on poor Des, I feel the urge to portray another little short.

"Heya Toby!!" waved Kuma.
"..'ey Kuma." sniffed Toby, kicking the dirt.
"Whats wrong?" the animated stuffed bear asked, crawling up onto the stone railing around the old haunted house. Worn and threadbare, he was always warm and alive under the grasping hands of the neighborhood children, if a little soggy at times. The legend ran among the playground that Kuma was the cursed soul of a runaway trapped forever in the body of a bear. He had been around forever, a secret told among the children of the cul de sac. He helped them when noone else would, and he could solve everything.
Toby picked Kuma up, holding him in his lap. Kuma squirmed a little until he could look him in the eyes. "What's wrong, he asked again, his glass bead eyes warm and friendly.
"...Mom's moving." He sniffed, burying his face into the bear's head. "I'm going to have to move too."
"Oh."
Toby sniffed as he cried. "I don' wanna move," he mumbled,squeezing him tight. "Can you make us not move."
Kuma paused for a moment. Them squirmed as he tried not to giggle.
"Hey!" gasped Toby, "It's not funny!"
"Sorry!" Kuma giggled, fighting a fit, but your breath was tickling my ears!"
"What about my wish?" Tiby insisted.
"I... I could." Kuma said softly, "But would you really want me to?"
"Of course!" Toby squealed, a surge of hopein his eyes, "I wanna stay here and be friends forever, and all my other friends live here too!"
"I'd have to ask... Him." Kuma said folding his arms, "You still sure?"
"Not Him!" gasped Toby, "He's the biggest scariest man in the whole world!"
"It'd take strong magic to do it." insisted the bear, "I can't do it alone."
"You... you sure?"
"I'm sure." the bear nodded firmly.
"Can you ask him?" Toby asked, lip quivering.
"No." said the bear, "he's not really mean you know."
"Sure he is!" insisted Toby, he has to be, I heard it 'round the yard, he's as big as a room, and doesn't ever go outside 'cause the sun would burn him!"
"Nope, " the bear laughed, "I don't know how these things got started, but he's not mean."
"Not mean at all," the bear added with a sigh, shaking his head. "You coming?" Kuma asked as he skipped down and started towards the house.
"I... we can't do it today!" squeaked Toby, "the sun's doing down, he'll turn evil! I.. I know, I've heard strange things going on at night. I've seen him wander around his house, his a strange glow and he'll eat me!"
"Will you come tomorrow?" Kuma asked gently. "I'll be there the entire time."
"O..okay." Toby sniffed.
"Promise?" Kuma asked.
"Promise." Toby insisted.

Kuma wandered into the house, careful to shut the dog door behind him. The real kuma got up fro mhis bench, blinking through his glasses, and stretching. His back ached, he neeeded a bigger chair. He wheezed as he pushed himself up, huffing to himself as he wander down the hallway.
He admitted it, he shouldn't have promised that. But he loved the children, and would do anything for them. He picked up his bear, tsking at it's state.
"M..Mo..o...o..o.."He stuttered, his voice sliping from the playful singsong he had worked so hard to perfect into the gruttal rumble of his normal voice. He finished the thought in his head, "Motor's gone, I really need to redesign my poor bear. Doctor of robotics and you can't even get a little toy up and running." He shook his head, the glow of the automated lights brightenening and dimming behind him as he waddled to the basement to work on his bear. "Perhaps." he thought, "I could call a favor or two with some of my colleagues," he grinned, "I know poor Mrs Watson's having some trouble with the mortage, maybe I could arrange her to win something that'll pay off her house and such." He looked at the mirror over his work station. He was pretty frightening he imagined, overweight as he was, with a face scarred and potmarked from childhood illness.
Better they see only the bear, he thought, thinking of what Kuma, the childhood friend of the neighborhood would say about some test of courage or something.
Better they not see Dr. Friekle.
Still...
He hugged his bear, wishing that the children he so loved would one day give him a hug in return, taking what comfort he could from the bear they loved so much.

[Professor_Tinker]

... so, do you *try* to make me cry, or what? *sniffle*
Very, very well done. And neat to see a ToM about someone not in the main cast.

[SoItBegins]

Wow. Little did I know that I'm surrounded by people who can write much better than I can.

[Claire]

I had some extra time, so I thought I'd practice writing a bit more.

“Lunch!” called Dr. Smith, as Claire finished watering the latest batch of ferns. The last batch of ferns had been a bit too volatile, which was why there was a new greenhouse behind the castle. Hopefully *these* ferns wouldn’t react to sound.

“Master, I’m supposed to cook.” Claire frowned disapprovingly. She didn’t seem really upset, though. Dr. Smith brought a tray of sandwiches outside.

“You’ve cooked everything so far, so you can take a break for one meal. Besides, Dr. Dvorak is on vacation and Dr. Diggs is busy with some Hero in a deathtrap, so no one’s going to notice.” He sat down on the lip of the crater where the first greenhouse had stood and took a sandwich. “And don’t call me master. If you really feel the need to be that formal, you can call me Dr. Smith, but when no one’s around, surely you can call me Seth.”

Claire put down the watering can and walked over, sitting next to Dr. Smith. “Whatever you say, Master.” She eyed the sandwiches suspiciously.

“You know that joke’s been done before, right? And stop looking at the sandwiches like that. They aren’t going to attack you.”

“I was afraid of that. They look disturbingly safe.” Claire picked up a sandwich and paused for a moment, watching it. “It didn’t even *try* to bite me.”

“Your cooking never tries to bite me.”

“I’m not Mad.”

“And I’m on my lunch break. Just eat your PB&J.”

“Phosphorescent barium and jelly?” Claire asked hopefully.

“Peanut butter and jelly. Eat it.”

“Yes, master.” Claire took a bite, dubiously. Her eyes suddenly widened. Three seconds later, the sandwich was gone. “That was amazing, master! Peanut butter and jelly, it’s called?”

“Well, mostly. I added a little something extra.” Dr. Smith grinned sheepishly. “They *do* taste better when they have some cyanide seasoning.” Claire grinned. She loved her job.

[Desius]

very nice.
Where was your character raised? You have me interested in her background. Though, she's going to have conniption fits when she makes it over. Des and Chic are about as far from the 'normal' henchman master duo out there as you can get. He's surly, rude, and often ignores her orders, and even bosses her around at times, while she only enjoys teasing him, not mutating, poisoning or otherwise maiming him. Fredric I can see as an exception considering he's a creation and Thad and the Professor have a relationship that very professional. Amino and Ingrid would be acceptable, considering how much Amino relies on her.
Dunno, just rambling here really.

To Tinker,
Strangely enough (Or not really, this is me writing it), Kuma and Dr. Friekle's tale wasn't supposed to be depressing or sad or anything, it just turned out that way. Dr. Friekle is a large scary Mad Scientist, scarred from a childhood illness, that has a heart of gold and loves children who used his abilities to build him the perfect way to interact with the kids so they wouldn't be scared of him.
It was supposed to be uplifting @#$% it!
Oh, well.

[Professor_Tinker]

It was supposed to be uplifting @#$% it!
Oh, well.

It was the hugging the teddy bear at the end that did it- just made it so sad that he can never hug the kids themselves. Plus, I have a very sypathetic attachment to teddy bears and dolls- I have been known to buy second-hand 'holiday' bears because they 'look sad'.

[Claire]

Well, right now Claire's supposed to be finishing her senior year at a perfectly normal college (not like the one Professor Tinker works at) and working in a normal research lab part-time. After that, she's supposed to go to grad school, get a normal PhD, and do normal research for the rest of her life. Since she doesn't actually know anything about these things, it's a bit strange when she tries to write letters home.

Anyway, she doesn't want her family to find out what she's doing right now, so she's trying to keep as much about them (and thus her past) hidden at the moment. This probably won't last very long when she makes it over, especially if she ever encounters Nega-Tinker, but I thought I'd try to keep stuff secret as of right now. (She does have a back story, though, and I'll probably put up some more stuff, like why she left college, at some point.)

As for the conniptions, I would have to agree, but I don't think they'll all be in the form one would expect...

[blazerflarey]

Desius the Tale that you wrote, well I find it cute, but I have to agree with Tinker in the fact that it is a bit sad. And to anybody reading this, everybody this is probably a good example of a good person, he knows that his looks would scare the kids, so he uses a robot teddy bear instead so he can help them.

[chicgeek]

Claire, I've been enjoying your stories.
But remind me to never accept a sandwich from you...

[Professor_Tinker]

(Music Starts)

In the God-Knows when future,
After Narbonic left off
There was a Mad named Andrew
A nutty English Prof!
He had adventures with his friends,
Sending Evil to it's end,
He was a pretty good hero
Until he ticked off Mad Desius
And then he had to go! (The Deans gonna kill me!!)

We'll Send him bad Stories!
The Worst we can find (la la la)
He'll be forced to sit and read them all,
While we try to break his mind (la la la)
Now keep in mind he can't control,
When the stories begin or end
He'll cling to shreds of Sanity,
With the help of his Insane friends!

Mad Sci Roll Call!
Xerox! (Just my luck)
David ( A Hero!)
Chic Geek! (Who wants coffee?)
Freeeeedric! (Aw bloody 'ell.)

If you're wondering how they Eat and Breath,
And other Science facts (la la la)
Just remember: They're all Mad Scientists!
I should really just relax
For Mad Science Theater 3000!!

(Door Number One is made of Stone, Unity breaks through with a Pickaxe and runs off)
(Door Number Two Is hit with a ray and turns into a bowl of Petunias)
(Door Number Three is knocked over by a passing ur-Gerbil)
(Door Number Four has a goatee, and swings open whilst cackling)
(Door Number Five offers you a Mint, you wisely decline)
(Door number Six smiles, then vanishes. Creepy)

The camera Zooms out, revealing Xerox placidly typing on a control panel in the backround, while Chic mutters angrily and fixes some Electrified Coffee.

Andrew enters, looking the worse for the wear.
"No luck- no escape pods, no loose panels, no space suits, nothing. and there's a firm self-containing continuity feild- so my notebook is useless. Any luck, commander?"

"Nope. I can pilot us around a little, and Lemon can get into the computer fine, but the important stuff is sealed away tighter than a vault."

Chic swore, sipping her coffee.
"Who would have guessed that Desius' mad self would use funding from the Nega-Verse to send us into Space in an attempt to turn us into willing servants?"

"Thank you, Miss Exposition." muttered Xerox, as David walked in and collapsed. Fredric walked fter him, looking a little singed.
"I checked and double checked, but the teleporter only goes one way- and trying to change that just activates it's Defense System. The Defense system most consists of a lot of pain." he said weakly, helped to his feet by Andrew.

"An' chewin' the circuits didn't work- they're coated in Epsilonium. And the ones I *could* chew through were decoys- just shocked me." said Fredric, picking his teeth.

"Well, we'll just have to put up with this silly MST3K parody for now, then. Just so long as we don't break the Hubble we should be fine." Said Andrew, leaning on a Wall marked 'Number Four' for some odd reason.

A red light started blinking, prompting Xerox to roll his eyes.

"Great. The mighty schmucks are calling- Lemon? Put 'em through."

"Okey doky Dr. Smith!" said lemon from the intercom.

"Does that make me the mom?" Asked Chic.

"I believe that would be Andrew- he's rather the maternal one, isn't he." sneered Mad Desius, appearing on the View screen with Nega-Tinker standing next to him.

"Wait a second- *I'm* TV's Frank?" muttered Nega-Tinker, looking insulted.
"It was you or Jane Narbon, and she has a no-parodies clause in her contract. So, 'Tinker and Co', enjoying your time on the Satellite of Hate? Comfy?"

"Charmin'. Nice view. I always heard that orbit was lovely in th' spring." said Fredric sarcastically.

"Cry me a river, pikachu. Ready for our first Invention Trade?" drawled Mad Desius, smirking as David restrained Fredric from attacking the view screen.

"As a matter of fact, we are. Chic?" said Andrew cheerfully, smiling at his cousin.

Chic grabbed a box from the table, stepping in front of the view screen.
"Well, I've had this Idea rolling around in my head for a while. Let's say you just got your brand-new shiny hideout, fortress, or Laboratory- what;s the first worry on your Mind? That's right, heroes. Well, no longer with... this!" She opened the box, bringing out a big, red button marked 'Warning, Do Not Touch'.

"The Button! Just affix this prominently on a control panel, set to activate a trapdoor, capture net, or knockout gas. You'll have barely installed it before it's saved you from some dunderhead wandering around."
as f to prove her point, as soon as she set it down, Fredric poked it curiously.

"Impressive, impressive. A clever solution to a common problem, Miss. Chic. TV's Nega Tinker, bring out my new invention."

"Fine, but add 'TV' to my name again and I kill you." grumbled Nega-Tinker, dragging a huge covered object into the room.

"Ladies and Gentlemen- oh, you too Andrew- may I present: The Mid-Screen!" he revealed a TV, with a helmet attached by cables.

"As my snarky assistant will demonstrate-"

"I will not!"

"Yes, you will. Anyway, the thoughts of the wearer of the helmet will be displayed on the screen. I foresee a variety of uses, mostly in interrogation- or as a party trick." he explained, as Nega Tinker put the helmet on.

After Mad Desius adjusted a few knobs, an image appeared on the TV screen.
As one, everyone went completely silent- save for the sound of Andrew sitting down without a chair behind him.
Xerox whistled, impressed.
"Huh. Looks like Nega-T has a.... lot on his mind. Can you bend like that, Toboz, or is that just your alternate?" asked Chic, tilting her head slightly.

David choked, stuttering unintelligibly as Fredric cracked up. Andrew managed to get to his feet, face a bright scarlet as Mad Desius wordlessly shut the TV off.

"Right. Well, while I go and see if I can't induce a concussion to get rid of *this* little gem of an experience, my *distracted* assistant will send you your first story."

Nega-Tinker rolled his eyes, pulling the lever.
"Prude." he muttered, as the veiwscreen turned off.

Lights flashed, as Chic grabbed her stunned cousin.
"Shake it off, man! Fredric, help me carry him into the viewing room- we got Story Sign!!"

[Professor Zobot]

...

I can't decide whether this is hilarious or creepy.

Either way, it's interesting.

[Professor_Tinker]

...

I can't decide whether this is hilarious or creepy.

A little from column A, a little from Column B. The campyness of Doc F. mixes kinda weird with Mad Desius, I will agree.

[Claire]

I wrote a bit more on Claire. Here's how she started working for Dr. Smith.

Claire dragged her cooler behind her, walking slowly. She had been walking a *long* time. Hopefully, it had been long enough that people around here wouldn’t make the connection between a new college-age girl with scorches on her coat and the college that had recently had its residence offices blown up. She wanted some coffee. There was a village ahead. Maybe there she could…

Claire blinked. What was she looking for, exactly? She had left college, so she wasn’t looking for a different college. She was done with college. She wanted… she wanted to be around mad scientists again. Forget what Dad said, she was going to work with mad scientists. That meant her options were Rival, which she didn’t think she could pull off, Hero, which she discounted out of hand, and henchman. Henchman was ideal.

Having figured this out, Claire once again started towards the village. How could she find a mad scientist? There was an ominous-looking castle perched on a cliff near the village. Whoever lived there probably knew the area pretty well. Maybe they could help her.

Dr. Smith carefully poured a few drops of fertilizer onto his rose seeds. Hopefully, this batch would have the proper knock-out drug in their pollen. Behind him, John played solitaire on the desk. John, of course, wouldn’t lift a finger unless explicitly instructed, and even then would probably manage to mess up anyway. The last time John had tried to fertilize seeds, half of them had withered, and the other half, instead of becoming ravenous monsters, had joined PETA.

“…why you don’t just sell some of this stuff,” John was saying. “You could easily grow the biggest fruits and vegetables, or make some new plant that could feed the world, and make a nice profit on top of that. What’s the point of knock-out roses or tulips that change color based on the number of cats in the room?”

Dr. Smith frowned. He didn’t like the idea that his experiments should have a point, and he *certainly* didn’t like the implication that he would act for a motive like feeding the world or money. “I TOLD you I was a mad scientist when I gave you this job. What about mad science is so hard to understand?” The doorbell rang, saving John from having to answer. “John, will you answer that?” He couldn’t mess that up, could he?

Outside, Claire waited nervously. She took her wrench out of her belt. Most people, she had found, were more willing to give information when they saw what was in it for them. If ‘not being hit anymore’ was a possibility, most people tended to be very cooperative.

John dawdled, eventually opening the front door. “Hello, welcome to-“ His disinterested drawl was cut off as Claire reached up and cracked the top of his head with a wrench. She was glad he was short. As he fell, she caught him and set him on the ground. She must have been really nervous; she could normally differentiate between ‘knockout’ strength and ‘headache’ strength. At least he was still breathing.

Claire stepped into the castle. Maybe there was someone else around to answer her questions. She set the cooler just inside the door, shut the door, and picked up the guy she had knocked out. Dragging him by the back of his shirt, she started to wander through the castle.

Fifteen minutes later, Dr. Smith decided his roses worked, although they could use some tweaking. The reason for this was that fifteen minutes ago he had smelled one, and he had just woken up. If he increased the concentration, the subject should remain unconscious for two hours. There was something slightly off, though… John was missing. This wouldn’t be odd, but he hadn’t put the 10 on the jack in his solitaire game, and John *always* remembered to do that. Something was amiss. He could carefully search the house until he figured out what had happened… or he could take that weird gun he had built last night and start shooting ugly furniture until the problem went away.

Claire had gotten to what she finally thought was the last room. This place was huge! If there wasn’t anyone here, the guy she had been dragging around the castle must own it. That was somehow a very disappointing thought.

From behind the door came a loud explosion. Explosions were always interesting. Threw open the door and ran into the room. She found Dr. Smith, gun in hand, grinning at the smoldering remains of a five-legged S-shaped table. When he saw her, he pointed the gun at her. “Shoot, or I’ll tell you what I want!” Wait, that wasn’t right. Was it? There hadn’t been any intruders in a while, and he couldn’t quite remember how it went.

Claire, sensing his confusion, quickly spoke up. “I think ‘Halt, intruder!’ works better.”

“Oh, forget it.” Dr. Smith threw the gun at the floor, causing it to go off and blast a hole through the wall. “Why is he unconscious?” He asked, gesturing at John.

“I hit him too hard. Do you own the castle?”

“Yes, I thought I’d try for the traditional feel, although certain people,” he glared at John, “are being particularly unhelpful with that.”

“Traditional? What do you do?” Claire mentally crossed her fingers. Maybe, just maybe…

“I’m a mad scientist. Botany is my specialty.”

“Really?! I’m looking for a mad scientist to work for, and I know lots of the traditions! Can I work for you?”

Dr. Smith looked at John, lying on the ground. Then he looked at Claire, who was watching him with anticipation. She must have dragged John all over the castle. John wasn’t that big, but if a tiny girl like that could drag him everywhere, maybe she would be useful for lifting things, and she had said she was good with traditions… “Alright, you’re hired.”

“Thank you, Master!” She had a job! “So I don’t push it accidentally, where’s the self-destruct button for the castle?”

“You don’t have to call me Master. My name is Dr. Seth Smith. As for the self-destruct button… um, it self-destructed. I’m working on building a new one.” He realized he had forgotten something. “What’s your name, by the way?”

“Claire. What do you want me to do with this guy, Master?” She lifted John to his feet by the back of his shirt.

Dr. Smith grinned evilly. “He’s not my henchman anymore, and certain PETA-member plants were looking for a human liaison, so…” Claire grinned back at him. It was so nice to be working for someone evil.

Oh, and I *really* liked the MST3K parody.

[Jane Narbon]

Knockout roses, eh? I think I might have to borrow that idea...

[Professor_Tinker]

Oh, and I *really* liked the MST3K parody.

Yay! Thanks! I do my best work sleep-deprived. Although, I have to say that Claire would make a better TV's Frank than Nega-T.

I Like Claire a lot- she's so enthusiastic. Desius is good, but a grump. Thaddeus is super-professional, but has.. problems. Fredric is sarcastic, and technically 'Family' not Hench. Sayasuke.. well, he's pretty enthusiastic but a 'Specialty' type.
So it;s nice to see someone who likes their job.

[That Guy]

He saw the targets...His hands moved...All three guns flew from the table...Incinerate target one...Bullet in the next...Electric bolt in the last.

"Two seconds," said his father.

Thaddeus caught the guns and put them back in their original position.

"Son..." said Sebastian Guy.

"Yeah Dad."

"You're sixteen now, and I judge that you've masted the Brandt Belmetod.* You've also close to mastering the other fighting styles."

"Your point..."

"Thaddeus it's time for you to become educated in the ways of the Family."

So Thaddeus was told to pack. He was flying to Europe tomorrow. His dad told him that he was going to be taught the ancient laws of the family. He put his guns in their disguised cases. He put everything in his suitcase. He was going to stay there for two months. It was a big suitcase.

He arrived safely in the country he remembered from the family reunion. He rode the bus to the city his father had told him to find. He eventually found his destination after several misturns and dark alleys.

Thaddeus knocked against the door nervously. A man looked out and said, "Name."

"Thaddeus Atrius Guy, Brandt Line**," Thad replied nervously.

The man opened the door to let Thaddeus inside. The man kicked the door closed with a loud bang. Thad moved quickly before the sabre cut him in half. He jumped back from the man and pulled his ray gun into the shooting stance.

"Hmmmm," said the man. "Fast, but you're not as quick as me." The man was in front of Thad in beat. He batted the gun from his hand in the next. Holding his sword to Thad's chest he said, "You are family, but are as slow as the others."

"Not necessarily," said Thaddeus. The man looked to Thad's other hand. Another gun.

"Hmm," said the Man. "<James, show Thaddeus to his room.>"

A boy emerged from the crowd that had formed. He motioned for Thaddeus to follow him. Thad grabbed his cases and the gun from the ground. The boy, James, led him upstairs to a room.

Later that evening another fight broke out, as they rushed down someone told him to take the new person to the room opposite his. After the man knocked the staffs from the girl's hands he told Thad to take her upstairs.

This girl introduced herself as Izydora, but told him that she'd prefer it if he called her Iz.

"Okay Izy," he replied teasingly.

"Don't call me that Tha-ad," she mocked back.

At Dinner the Man stood up and said, "<For those of you who don't know my name is Dieter Guy of the original line. You will call me Master Dieter at all times. Tomorrow I will begin instructing you in the performance of your duties as a member of die Famhilie***.>"

The Next Day
Thaddeus and the other fifty some teenagers here sat in silence as Dieter told them of their heritage.

"<Three generations after Ichor the Family had spread over the region. There was one man Darien who worked for the Mad Rica Dacht. She was kinder than most Mads in that age. She and Darien eventually were married though this happened after this story takes place.

Darien heard some strange things had been happening with his brother, Leander. He went to investigate what was wrong with him. As he drew near the village where Leander worked he began to hear tales told of a horrible Mad who did terrible things to the people. But he heard conflicting stories. Some said that the Mad was dead. Others claimed he was still alive.

Darien didn't know who to believe. But he became sure that Leander was in danger, so he hurried. Once he reached the village he saw that it was totally abandoned and destroyed. He saw that there was a relatively unharmed castle on a hill above the town.

Inside the castle he found strangely crackling contraptions and there were growls coming from the shadows. He walked slowly through the dark hole until he came upon a man.

It was Leander, and he seemed to be giggling. Darien called out to him. Leander turned, revealing the mutated lump of flesh in front of him.

He told Darien that he was free. He had finally broken from the trap that their family had upon them. Darien tried to tell him that they should go get some help, but Leander said no to that. He said it in a voice like a Mad's command voice but it was hollow and not quite the same.

Leander told Darien that the Mad who used to work here was dead and that he had killed him. The Mad had been using Mind Control on the people of the town and had used it on him, but he had broken free.

Darien asked him if all of the destruction was his doing. Leander told him that it was. They argued about what had been done, and soon their words became fists.

Darien soon realized that his brother was gone and all that was left of Leander was broken. So in order to save Leander from himself and the retribution of others he killed him.>”

“<So you see,>” said Dieter. “<Why we must have order and rules. To protect everyone and our own we must stop those with the Amenfalch****. Throughout the next two months I will teach you of the Bellije***** and of Bellije-amenti******.>” Dieter got up and left the room.

The room was silent as all of the Guys sat and thought. Later at lunch Dieter told them to meet him back in the hall for the rules of Belije.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The following are terms that the Guy family have created, to define things of their experience.

*Belmetod: style of fighting specific to certain branches of the Guy family (i.e. the Brandt Guy line-Thaddeus- and gun fighting, the Salcedo Guy line-Izydora- and staff wielding, the Makris Guy line and short blade fighting. Explanation: all persons in the extended Guy family are responsible for learning martial arts, many styles are taught to them as children, but above all they learn how to use the specific style developed by their line in the family.Some members of the family no longer practice as strict rule anymore. For instance the Heinmen no longer learn martial arts for their specific family branch.

**Brandt Line: Branch of the Guy family tree to which Thaddeus belongs. Split off in 1564. Josephine Guy married Linus Brandt (expert on firearms and handguns) whose influence helped develop the Brandt Belmetod. The Brandts are notable for being the branch of the Guy family most prominent in the settlement of the American West-during which time the Belmetod was further developed.>Its current form in most Brandt lines is a quick-draw style using juggling of weapons.

***die Famhilie: The Family- when some one of the Guy family refers to the entire extended family as an institution he will call it die Familhee

****Amenfalch: false-madness ''' A specific mental illness of the subspecies family >Guy. Wherein mind control pushes their automatic obedience too far and causes a condition similar to Science Related Memetic Disorder. The difference being that those with Amenfalch create things that only work half right or in an incorrect manner.

*****Bellije: war-upon-family/a duel when you fight a member of the family

******Bellije-amenti: the Guy Family's method of dealing with those affected by Amenfach. A variant of Bellije.

[Desius]

And now something totally unrelated!

Andrew ran through the town, preforming his best interpretation of Archimedies.
Unfortantly this involved him dressed only in his birthday suit, screaming "Eureka!" at the top of his lungs and streaking through town to the strattled eyes of Dave, who promptly passed out, and the impressed nod of Miz Narbon before Chic covered her eyes with a sigh, He was being chased by Fredric who struggled to keep up, sporting a towel to wrap his deranged father.
"I've done it! I've done it!" he cried, panting up to his shocked cousin. Andrew leaned againstthe table, beaming wildly as Des chocked and threw his cup aside.*
"There goes my appetite." he grumbled, shaking his head as Fredric wrapped his securly with the towel.
"I've done it!" Andrew beamed waving his globe under Des's nose.
"Joy." Growled des with a shake of his head, "What is it?"
"It's my bestest most super special awesome thing I've ever super special awesomed out of thin air ever!'
"Did you just use super special awesome?" Des winced.
"You betcha!" beamed Tinker.
"This is a Fan fic isn't it." snarled Des, folding his arms.
"Yep!" Tinler clapped, waving the globe again. "How did you guess?"
"The juvenile dialouge, the cheesecake. And I tell whoever is writing this now, even breathe yaoi, and I'm going to do terrible things to you."
"Yes, that means you." Des waved his finger from behind the monitor, "Don't think I don't see you behind that screen. I have half a nerve..."
"Des! Back to the story." Tinker grabbed his hand pulling away from the fourth wall.
"Do I have to? I think I have a no Fanfic clause somewhere in my contract."
"ANYWAYS." Tinker said, waving the globe. "Most super special awesomest thing ever."
"But!"
"MOST SUPER SPECIAL AWESOMEST THING EVER!"
"Fine." Des growled, crossing his arms. " What is it."
"It's going to change everything."
"Nice." deadpanned Des, not even bothering to act anymore. "What is it?"
"Des!" Tinker, frowned.
"That's all your getting," Des snorted, "Take it or leave it."
"Fine. Its going to explain everything, make everything better, do anyth-"
"What is it?" Des repeated, getting angrier.
"I call it!"
Tinker paused.
..
...
....
"Yes?" sighed Des, rubbing his temple.
"Just waiting for the dramatic pause."
"Get on with it!" screamed Des.
"Yes get on with it!" Called Chic and Jane.
"Really? do you think it's enough?" Tinker asked hesitantly.
"Get on with it!" growled Fredric.
"Get on with it!" cried David.
"I mean-"
"GET ON WITH IT!" chanted the crowd and the audience.
"Fine!" huffed Andrew waving the device up in the air,"I call it....!"
"The Plot Device!"

Amino popped out the manhole, and wipped a pie into Andrew's face.
"Only I'm allowed to use surreal humor!"
Amino quickly dissappeared into the depths cackling all the while.
"Really." Andrew said wiping the cream from his eyes.
"I didn't think it was that bad."
"Andrew." Des sighed shaking his head. "that has got to be the worst pun ever."
"Hrmph, Philistines, all of you."



*The cup landed in just the right time and place to destroy several national landmarks, spark world war III and lead eventually to the enslavement of the human race by three inch tall traders from Gibbilson IV. And I'm not going to tell you how. So, ha.

[Professor_Tinker]

((Alright, I see your self-aware pun-fic, and raise you a Violet Prose Romance-Fic!!))

Desius sighed, resting his head on his hand as he stared out of the rain-streaked window, moodily glaring over the sodden landscape of the abandoned warehouses. The weather matched his mood, even as Chic wheeled about giggling at some absurd plan or other.

He envied his bubbly cousin some days, as lately his usual foul countenance was layered with Grey wisping threads of melancholy, lancing him like a wound not yet clotted.

It was like he was missing something.. something he had been missing for a long time, but the pain of it;s loss was renewed by having it suddenly within his grasp again, after so very long.

He stood from the seat he had been sitting in, gryffly throwing on his coat.

"I'm going out! I'll be back in a few hours." he called out, leaving via the door.

"Alright! " said Chic, smiling fondly after him. Poor Desius- she hoped he figured things out soon.

Desius walked without thinking, haven taken this rout many times before. Half of the time, he just ended up standing there, staring wistfully at the house, not daring to go in.

... just as he was now, squinting handsomely through the rain, where he could just make out Andrew, reading in his favorite chair.

Desius blinked, glancing upwards at the Narration.
"Wait, ANDREW?! The hell? We're cousins. What part of that do you people not understand?"

Well, no I mean, you guys aren't *related*, you were adopted, and you hardly even saw each other...

"Oh, come on!! What is this, some third-rate shonen-ai manga? Just because I'm adopted doesn't mean were not family- and we're even shown repeatedly to be comparable to brothers in our relationship! And thanks for the indication that being *adopted* doesn't really *count* as being related."

...look, this could be worse, okay? At least *I* don't ship Gun/Bunny. And if you ask me, the fact that you and Andrew are his *parents* isn't helping your case.

"Oh please. That was retconning and we both know it. Now put this freakin' story back in your 'Work-on' folder until you forget about it, delete the Twinshipp story, and don;t post the one with the spelling errors- you'll thank me after you turn sixteen."

.... can I at least post my Xerox/Calypso fic, where-

"No!"[/i]

[chicgeek]

Quintus sighed, and rubbed his eyes. The air was getting worse, but at least the work was done. The rarest writings were placed into clay jars and sealed against the elements, the rest carefully boxed up. Not that it would do any good. The last ship had departed two days ago.
Oh, he’d tried to get that unshaven jackal of a captain to at least take a few to save. “No room for nonessentials!” he’d bawled. “And those jars are too small for wine, and too big for chamberpots.” The crew brayed as they cast off, leaving him on the dock. Barbarians.
At least he’d had the pleasure of breaking the captain’s nose. He smiled thinly at the memory.
Perhaps he had the slight nearsightedness of the avid reader, but he was also a warrior, strong even by his tribe’s standards. As those fools found to their dismay.
He coughed. Volcanic ash had been falling steadily-could the eruption be far off?
Quintus broke the seal on the bottle of wine he’d been saving, settled himself at his desk, and pulled a favorite scroll from his pouch. He’d sworn an oath never to abandon his post-and there were worse ways to meet the end. He’d donned his old armor, and his helmet, of course. He was ready.
A weird, unearthly whine came from the far wall. Scant seconds later, it was joined by a whirling vortex, the eerie sound rising and falling in time with the spinning. He leapt to his feet, grabbing his spear.
Coolly facing forward, he pondered what this new threat could be. What dared invade his domain? Gods? Monsters? The mists cleared, revealing…a titian haired woman, smaller than he. And most strangely garbed!
“What the-“
She interrupts him, in flawless but oddly accented latin.
“Quintus Scribonius Dentatus?”
“How did you know-“
“Do you want to save your library?”
He gestures at the boxes. “Yes,” he replies simply. “How?” Who and what are of secondary importance.
“We need to stack everything here-“ she draws out a piece of chalk and inscribes a circle on the floor. “As high as need be, but within this radius.”
He’s grabbing boxes before she finishes speaking. “Or the magic will not work?”
“No, the time portal will only stretch so far. Just save a space for us, and hurry.” She sprints over to help. Goodness, he’s flinging them about like they’re weightless!
“Time travel? Why here? Even I know of lost centers of learning greater than this.” She’s either mad or telling the truth. Or the volcanic fumes have finally gotten to him. Might as well humor her.
“And I rarely risk time travel. But my research finally uncovered the exact location. Nothing survived, by the way-a valiant effort, but no match for lava. By swooping in at the last minute, grabbing you moments before your death, I’m not changing history. And when I learned of your valiant sacrifice, I thought-well, I’ve been needing an assistant.”
“And how did you learn of my, um, death?”
“Oh, a brief mention. A quote from the last captain to leave.”
“Ah, the fool did have the wit to appreciate my deeds after all!”
“Er-not quite. He called you a book besottled idiot without enough sense to-“
“That’s enough.” Quintus sighes. “And that’s close enough to his parting words for me to almost believe you.”
The pile almost brushes the ceiling. He runs back to his desk and grabs his spear. They’ve barely left space in the circle for one. Rather than leave anything behind, he unceremoniously grabs the madwoman and hoists her to the top of the stack.
Present day-

Farnsworth smiles coldly at the visitor standing before his desk. “Minerva will be out momentarily-she just needs to finish that call to the dean before joining you for lunch. And since we have a brief moment-“ he pulls out a pristine linen handkerchief and starts polishing his pince-nez. “Since she has no family living, I shall stand in as elder brother for her. If you hurt her-“
He gives a graphic account of the many things that can be done with a spear. Minerva bustles out of her office, smiling, before her tall guest can respond.
“Have a good lunch-I shall spend the afternoon cataloging the Mayan section.” He smiles broadly at Minerva’s guest, showing a mouthful of needle sharp teeth.

I know he's a bit character, but I like Farnsworth. And I like the idea of jaegerkin in the ancient roman empire. And yes, he chose his new name himself. He's loyal to Minerva like the Viktors are to Miss Agatha.
EDIT-and the praenomino, nomen, and cognomen are from the Nova Roma website-not made up latin!

[Claire]

Claire stopped walking and sat on her cooler. “Hey, writer!” No response. “Hey, I know you can hear me! How come all the other characters get fun fan-fic stories and I don’t?”

It's not all the other characters. There was just a bit about Desius and Prof. Tinker, which was immediately stopped.

"It sounded like there was more stuff. Besides, you made me walk through the same patch of woods about 20 time so far. If you aren't going to think up something besides 'Claire walks through the same five trees repeatedly,' you can think up something interesting for me to do."

What do you want of me? You haven’t even been introduced to any of the characters!

“Pssht, like continuity matters. I can talk to the writer, but I can’t have a fan-fic with someone I haven’t met?”

No. No, you can’t. I don’t even know how the other characters are going to react to you. For all I know, someone will probably strap you to a doomsday device and leave you to die or something.

“First of all, I’m a hench, so that would have to be the rival of my boss, which is unlikely because it would probably be my boss on the doomsday device. Second, I’d probably escape anyway. Besides, that would be awesome! Have someone strap me to a doomsday device!”

I thought you wanted a fan-fic.

“Yes. Preferably one with a doomsday device. Or I could strap him to the doomsday device. I’m not picky.”

You know, all the other characters are yelling at their writers to *stop* this sort of thing.

“All the other characters have long, complicated relationship stuff going on. You haven’t written *any* for me yet.”

Well, I’m not going to. I’m not introducing two new characters. It’s hard enough just dealing with you.

“But-“

Look, I’m the writer, I get final say. If you aren’t good, I’ll post a story where you cry like a little girl, capiche? Now keep walking.

Claire stood up, picked up the cooler, and started walking again. “Stupid writer, never letting me have any fun…” suddenly, she glared at the fourth wall. “You’re going to post that story anyway, aren’t you?!”

Maybe. But keep this in mind. I had planned to have you enter the story in that dress. However, if, say, a bramble were to tear that dress, you’d have to enter in your pajamas…

“...I’ll be good.”

[Claire]

Yes, there is a certain situation under which Claire will cry like a little girl. It's rather ridiculous, though.

And Claire does in fact have a set of pajamas in that cooler. They're in the cooler because she had never planned to wear them, ever. So, of course, I'm looking for an excuse to make her wear them. (but not too soon, because then I'd lose my leverage)

[Jane Narbon]

I should warn you now that Jane Narbon always keeps a camera hidden somewhere on her. Beware blackmail.