🚀 go-pugleaf

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And we're back in the past and can check the eyrie archive
once again.


Here's where you can find this and more NTB One Shots:

https://archives.eyrie.org/racc/ntb/One.Shots/


And it's the next part of The Wrath of The Administrator.
Three Interludes is by Ken Primer.
Part Five is by Timothy "Jellomancer" Toner.

(Also a little correction -- 'Kit' is Christopher Tatro
although he probably went by kristoff too...)


Is it time for a snowball 'BLOOD BRAWL'?!  And is there
room -- for JELLO?!!!!!  (trick question -- there is
always room for Jello!  All Praise The Dark Gods of JELLO!)



Find Out In...







                           C L A S S I C

                    N E T  T R E N C H C O A T  B R I G A D E

                                A D V E N T U R E S  #362




                         =====================
            W R A T H  O F  T H E  A D M I N I S T R A T O R
                               Part Four
                         =====================




 T  H  R  E  E    I  N  T  E  R  L  U  D  E  S
 ---------------------------------------------


-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

1.

   Lady Johanna Constantine is walking down the street her mind on important
matters like where can she get the money to buy some chocolate.

Suddenly she spins around...
"Damn, I thought someone was following me."

   She continues her stroll, her mind now on where she can get money to buy
cigarettes.

She stops again...
"I'm sure I saw something out of the corner of my eye..."

   She turns the corner, her mind on where she can buy chocolate covered
cigarettes.

  She stops again, but not because she thinks she saw something...she just
walked into it. In front of her is a man wearing an ugly brown coat, blue
jeans, and shoes that are a few stiches form total diasaster. One arm is
behind his back and his expression is one of malignant joy.

   "Look, get a clue...the answer is still NO! she said.
   "HEHEHEHEHEHEHEH" the man chortled. "You humiliated me...*wheeze* I'm
gonna
give you what you should have gotten a long time ago".
   LJC looks at the man and ponders...(smoke rises from her ears) suddenly
a horrible thought comes to mind.
  "No....You wouldn't dare..." she stammers as she looks for an escape.
  "HEHEHE YUP, I'm gonna do to you what I've wanted to do for for a long
time."
he grinned and wiped foam of his lip as he loomed closer and closer....





















    *whap* a snowball whizzes past her ear and hits a wall. The man`s crazed
joy is replaced by a look of great tragedy as he falls to his knees.
   "So close, so close how could I miss?" he moaned.

   *whap* a snowball hits him in the eye. LJC laughs and and runs away.


2.

   >> somewhere in an a dilapidated apartment at the edge of town <<

   Ken broods on the turn of events.
"Damn, this kind of thing can't go unavenged...LJC is beginning to cop
an attitude." he thought to himself.

 "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRG!" came from behind the closet door.
 "Quiet Mongo, I'll feed you in good time, but at the moment I'm hatching an
evil plot."
  "BLLLLLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!" Mongo snorted as he clanked his chains.
 "I say! Be quiet, or I'll...hey...I know this gives me an idea."
He opens the closet door cattle prod ready in one hand. Inside is a large
humanoid shaped creature covered in brown fur and wearing chains. It looks
at Ken with Malevolent red eyes. Ken sizes up the 10 inch claws and fangs
while
he throws it a slab of meat. As the creature wolfs down it's meal, Ken
forms a
plan.
  "Mongo, I have a job for you...when you complete it, I will reward you
handsomely."
   "MMMMMMMMM KIIIIIIITY?" Mongo asked.
   "No, you can't have my cat. Now here's a pack of cigarettes and a box of
chocolates...NO Don't eat them! This is the bait...now here's my plan."




   Later that day LJC is walking to class trying to think of an excuse to
tell
the professor for not showing up for 3 weeks. Suddenly her path is blocked
by
a figure that dropped from a treelimb above. It was wearing a trenchcoat and
a fedora but nothing else. It stared at her with gleaming red eyes and foam
dripping from it's mouth. gripped in one paw was a snowball.

LJC looked at the fangs, claws, and snowball....
   "Ohyouaresocute!" she declared while fluttering her eyes in a way that
caused several male onlookers to faint.

"Areyouastudenthere?Whatyearareyou?Thisismysecondyear,wellactuallymyfirstyearat
theUofI,myfirstyearwasspentinMadridIwenttoschooltheresoIguessthatmakesmeasophom
ore....
  "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRG!!!! Mongo roared.

"Ohthat'sinteresting,whatisyourfavoritetvshow?MineisQuantumLeap.Doyoureadcomi
cs?IlikeSandman,Hellblazer,DeathHighcostofLivingsomepeoplethinkIlooklikeDiDiY'k
nowbutnotsinceIgotmyhaircutnowmyhairistooshortAreyouaPagan?
  "YAAAAAAAAARRRRG!" Mongo yelled.

"UhhumIseeyouputitsoeloquentlyDoyoulikeanime?I'mintheanimeclub,nextsemesterth
eclubofficerswon'tbeheresotheyaskedmetobeanofficer,me?Canyoubelieveit?Meincharg
e?Ihopeforthegoodoftheclubthatitdoesn'thappen.AmIspeakingtoofast?*giggle*
   "eeep!" mongo whined

"Doyouhaveacigarette?IquitsmokingaboutthirtyminutesagowhenIfinishedthelastpac
kmmmmI'mhungrydosmellchocolate?CanIhavesome?thankyouyouaresonice!Toobadmydormit
orydoesn'tallowpets.IcouldtelltheRAthatyouareaveryhairyfreshmanthatImetinabar*t
eehee*myfatherwouldlovetomeetyouhealwaysencouragesmetommeetinterestingpeople.Do
youlikeIrishcooking?yes,ittakessomegettingusedtobut...
   "ulp." Mongo gurgled.

 "doyouknowKenPrimer?Yousoundjustlikehimmaybeyoushouldmeethimheycanyoudomeabi
gfavor?" she smiled in a way that caused Mongo's snowball to melt
instantly.


  A few minutes later that day Ken is pacing the length of his apartment.
"1,2,3,4 turn 1,2,3,4"

  *knock knock*
"Aha! Mongo has returned! Vengence is mine!" he said as he opened the door.

  *whap* a snowball hits him in the face.
"AAAAHAAAHAAAHAAA." Mongo chortled.


3.

   The first warm day of Spring and LJC is sitting on the quad.

AAAAAAAAH...warm weather! sittin' in the sun and NO MORE SNOW! NO MORE
SNOWBALLS!
*sizzle* *sizzle*
  "Oh damn, I keep forgetting the Irish people should stay out of the sun"
she
mused as she watched Mongo lope towards her.
   "HMMMM FEEEERRRR YYYYEEEEEWWWWW" Mongo said as her dropped a grisley
prize
at her feet.
   "Oh how...sweet...a headless squirrel...I'll treasure it, you go take it
and
show it to your friends ok?" she asked sweetly.
Mongo ambles off to play with the quad dogs.
   "The hall RA is getting suspicious about him...what shall I do?" she
thought.
Suddenly...(yeah you saw this coming eh?)

The ground shakes....a huge shadow falls over the quad...the ground shakes
again, so hard that it causes everyones voice to be out of synch. LJC looks
up
and beholds a 100 meter tall metal behometh. Humanoid in shape, the Robot
looms
over her ominously.
   "this is getting tiresome...Ken? Is that you again?" she asked.
   "Bwahahahahahahahaha try to get out of this one eh?" a familiar voice
boomed. LJC covers her ears, the volume is cranked higher than a Megadeath
concert.
   " Behold The Mark IV experimental winter warbot aka "Snowbunny". It has
Three rapid fire snowball guns. Three racks of wire, radar and heat seeking
snowballs. A mega snowball gun that fires snowballs as big as a car. A
snowthrower, a refridgerator that makes instant snow, and an ice cube maker
for
drinks... Well? What do ya think?" he paused.
   "HUH? I can't hear you? Your speakers have made me deaf." LJC answers.
High up in the cockpit located in the head of the mecha Ken reaches for the
volume dial which has been set at 11. It doesn't budge. Ken opens the canopy
and yells at the small figure at the feet of the bot.
   "I said, Aren't you impressed?" He yelled.
   "Huh?" as she cupped her hand over her ear.
   "Damn, I just climb down!" he exclaimed.
    "LJC, aren't you impressed?" he said as stepped off the huge foot next
to
her.
   "Oh yes, can you show me how the refridgerator works?" She said while
fluttering her eyes.
   "Sure no problem...Y'see this panel here? I can access the fridge and
make
a snowball by hand, he said as he reached in and grabbed a handful of snow.
   "Tadah! One fine hand made snowball, ain't it COOL?" Ken said as he
displayed his work.
   "Oh you are soooo witty *giggle* can I look at that snowball?" she asked.
   "Sure! Here ya go...Do you like it? Nice aerodynamic shape eh?" he said.
   "Yes, very nice." she commented as she nails Ken right between the eyes.
"Duoh'...fooled by feminine whiles again!" Ken complained as he reached
towards
the fridge.
   "No, just stupid." Came a chorous of voices from all around.
Ken looks up and sees that he surrounded by an angry mob of trenchcoat clad
beings holding snowballs.
   "Enough of the stupid snowball stories. Let him have it guys!" she
ordered.
And Ken is buried under an avalanch of snow....

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

        by ken@uxc.cso.uiuc.edu




    P  A  R  T    F  I  V  E
    ------------------------

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

      The electronic buzzer zapped the fading tendrils of a really
 interesting dream into oblivion.  I had learned to hate the
 machine, but it was the only thing on this planet that would awaken
 me, and was a large reason why I graduated last year.  9 AM classes
 are a bitch, especially if you miss them.
      I rolled out of bed.  Damn.  Sunday.  Why the hell did I set
 my alarm clock for Sunday?  Then I remembered.  _HE_ was coming.
 I was out of bed and dressed in a flash.
      First to the refrigerator.  It was a Kenmore, model XRT-14,
 centuries old, with _plenty_ of shelfroom.  If cars were built like
 refrigerators, the highways would be clogged with Model T's that
 smelled faintly of mouldy lettuce, no matter how much baking powder
 you added.
      As I suspected, with a quick peek, Number 15 was a complete
 failure.  DAMN!  Was I ever to understand the complexities of
 Concorde Grape?  It never set properly at all.  My mother commented
 that maybe Concorde Grape is especially sensitive to chaos waves,
 and is constantly being shaken up before it can set.  My mother is
 an idiot.  If Concorde Grape would never set, then why would they
 market the damn thing?  The fault had to lie within me.
      Perhaps a note of introduction is in order.  I am Weevil
 Dendrite, recent graduate of the University of Michigan, and dark
 forseer of mystic events.  Some charlatans employ cards, others tea
 leaves, still others crystal balls.  My medium is perhaps the best,
 for it is modern, efficient, scientifically accurate, and tasty,
 too.
      It began, I suppose, with my mother.  She noted that whenever
 she would try to make Bundt cake (you know the one that requires the
 special ring shaped pan, and that never came out right, with a
 little bit left sticking to the side--which is what frosting is
 for, I guess) with fudge swirling in the mix, it never seemed to
 come out right.  She finally settled on a foolproof recipe, and
 concentrated on it for days.  After it had been baked, and came out
 quite perfectly, she cut it up to serve at a party.
      Much to the chagrin of the guests, the swirls in the cake
 seemed to form letters.  Some endeavored to try to arrange the
 letters in a discernable pattern.  Most were shocked by the
 relevation that AEEEEEGHHIIIIKLLMMMMNNPRRSSSTWY spelled out "MRS.
 MEYERS IS SLEEPING WITH THE MILKMAN," which was very awkward,
 since Mrs. Meyers was there with Mr. Meyers, as well as the
 milkman.  After the fight was broken up, most of the partygoers
 left, thinking it it bad taste, which Miss Manners supported.
 "Dessert is supposed to be delicious, not malicious."
      My mother, however, never intended it to be slanderous.
 Instead, she realized that she was blessed with preternatural
 powers, to tell the future in baked goods.  A strongly devout
 woman, she saw it was the work of the devil, and never baked again
 (which is why I always looked like a schmo at the bake sales, with
 twinkies in _my box._  Let my mom consort with Satan..._I_ wanted
 tollhouse cookies!)
      My power came to me at an early age.  Since baking was
 outlawed in my house, for fear the curse had spread to the
 children, the only dessert we could make was smooth, creamy Jello
 products and ice cream.  Since ice cream actually involved physical
 labor in its production, as opposed to "add some hot water, stir,
 add some cold water, stir, put in refrigerator, wait, eat," I
 seldom toiled in its production.  Jello was...fantastic, almost an
 obsession with me.  Its colors, its textures, everything _screamed_
 sensuality and _power!_  Oh, the power!
      Then I got out more often.
      I did notice, after my Jello-retentive phase (wonder where
 Freud put that one...), that whenever I approached a perfectly
 molded piece of Jello, it shivered in my presence, as if scared I
 might eat it (and with good reason, too).
      At first, I chalked it down to seismic activity (well, I don't
 weigh _that_ much, but I do enjoy the occassional gelatin dessert),
 but then I noticed that it quivered as long as I stared at it.
 Gravity?  Once again, I needed the mass of a small asteroid to
 affect it so profoundly, and that wasn't the case (fortunately).
 I then recalled it shivered more when I thought of certain things.
 Things I was wondering about.  Things in the future.  And the more
 it shook, the more it came to pass.
      It took me a B.A. in theoretical physics, an M.A. in mathematics,
 and a PhD in Parapsychology (the first two garnered from Sally
 Struther's mail order school when I was still a freshman in high
 school) to truly understand my uncanny powers.  Most people have a
 small degree of precognitive powers.  Some can note patterns in tea
 leaves as indication of how future events will transpire, others
 rip open seagulls and sniff their guts for a glimpse of the
 unknown.  All these have one problem:  they only gain a snapshot of
 the future, a static representation taken at the moment of the
 reading.  I, with my prodigious gelatin molds, capture the surges
 of probability as they occur in the gentle wave form.
      Now I am quite the expert.  I have parlayed my power into a
 substantial fortune, betting on American Gladiator events and the
 occassional presidential election.  I have used my spare time, when
 not watching MTV or drinking Peach Faygo, to perfecting my art.
 Jellomancy is a harsh mistress, requiring persverance, talent, and
 a good eye for quivers.  Some flavors work better than others.
 Strawberry banana is a good overall flavor, while blackberry
 should be universally avoided, since it only seems to predict the
 coming of the Apocalypse, the rising of Elder Cthulhu from Ry'leh,
 and the next time the Cubs win a world series.  I keep one in the
 back, just in case.
      Enough exposition.  My guest has almost arrived.  I pull out
 the orange batch with little marshmallows I whipped up for such an
 occasion, and readied the table for the parlance that was to come.
      Mere moments before his knuckles rapped on the door, I was
 there, whipping it open, as his hand connected with empty air.  The
 first few times I did this stunt, it really unnerved him, until he
 noticed the closed circuit tv on the door.  When one trafficks with
 the Trenchcoats, one must always be prepared.
      He slid in, and his whiskers scraped against the closing door
 as he forced it shut, making a noise not unlike two pieces of
 sandpaper rubbed together vigorously.  The guest was taller than I
 by a few inches, and substantially thinner.  He smelled as if he
 hadn't washed in days, which was fairly accurate, and his hair was
 a sullen blonde mop which looked like it had given up combs for
 Lent.
      "Morning, Weeve," he gasped.
      "Morning, sir.  What's wrong?"
      "They're after me.  Again.  I lost another one."
      "Another what?"
      "Another near, dear, close personal soulmate.  The third this
 week."
      "Oh dear, how did he go?"
      "Lima beans.  Never trust them, Dendrite.  Vegetable of
 darkness."
      That was my name.  Weevil Dendrite.  Hell of one, I know, but
 with a goofy last name like Dendrite, the first just _can't_ be
 normal.  Most of my friends call me Weeve.
      "Thanks for the tip.  Uh, you want to come in?  I'm all
 ready."
      He scooted past me, and headed for the kitchen, reaching into
 a pack of silk cuts, and extracting one.
      "Sir...remember when I asked you not to smoke?  That it ruined
 my concentration?"
      "What of it?  I only need a rough estimation.  If you tell me
 exactly where it is, then there'll be no suspense at all.  I'm just
 stacking the deck in their favor."
      At the expense of _my_ lungs.  He lit up.  It was time to pull
 out the big guns.
      "Okay, Mr. _Constantine._"
      "BIERCE, DAMMIT!  ARE YOU _STUPID?_  You get that wrong every
 felching WEEK!  Ambrose Bierce!"
      "Right, sorry.  It won't happen again.  I just got confused,
 what with that fag dangling out of your mouth..."
      He took it out and extinguished it on the Arcane Talisman of
 Unknown Power (TM) he had around his neck.  Bierce then grabbed the
 pack and offered them up to the Great God of the Disposal that
 lives under my sink.
      Score 1, Jellomancer.

      The talk was productive.  We had ascertained Ambrose was being
 pursued by a shaman of a lost zulu tribe that worshipped Tenessee
 Tuxedo Velvet paintings...either that or some really nasty bill
 collectors.
      "Well, it looks like I'm up to my arse in trouble again."
 There was a wide grin on his face.
      "Yup, Mr. Bierce, looks like your life is in mortal peril,
 your soul is in immortal peril, and the world is in its standard
 extradimensional-invasion-from-the-forces-we-don't-understand
 peril."
      "Thanks, Weeve.  I owe ya."
      From the amount he "owed me," I was beginning to side with the
 bill collectors' story.
      "Umm...one more thing."
      "Whassat, Weeve?"
      "Mr.  Bierce, I just graduated college, am hopelessly rich,
 and have no real marketable skills.  Do you think I could aid you
 in your quests against Things The Reader Was Not Meant To
 Understand?"
      He let out a heavy sigh, and motioned as if he was going to
 remove the cigarette, which wasn't there, from his mouth in
 disgust.  He tried to cover up the obviously staged action by
 scratching his belly on the downswing, popping off a button in the
 process.
      "Weevil, we've had this discussion a _thousand_ times.  It's
 _WAY_ too dangerous.  All the people I get near die in some
 tragically horrid fashion.  I _don't_ want that to happen to you."
      "Why not?"
      "Because I don't want you to die, that's why!  Is that so
 terribly difficult to understand?  If I make you my pal, then you
 get cacked by commando squirrels from Saturn, or some other arse-
 backward threat, which no one can really explain.  That's why I'm
 so mean to you, Weeve.  If I didn't, you'd be dead on the spot.
 I'm doing you a favor."
      "Thanks a lot.  But you forget, I'm immortal."
      Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you guys that in expostion.  More on
 it later, when it becomes relevant.
      "Immortality?  You call that immortality?  Ha!  I'd really
 take a good long hard look at your role model, because that's all
 he can do!"
      "There's something you're not telling me."
      "Felching heck.  All right, I'll admit it.  I need you, boy,
 'cause I haven't got what it takes."
      "To be what?  A professional moocher?  You do a pretty good
 job at that."
      "Heh.  Good one, Weeve.  No, I mean I make a lousy
 Trenchcoater."
      "The one you have looks fine.  Stained and everything.  What's
 that one?"
      He looked at the red blotched, then rubbed a bit off with his
 nail and tasted.  "Goat blood.  No, virgin blood.  Definitely a
 virgin."
      "See!  You have what it takes!"
      "You understand so little, kid.  I can do all that magic
 claptrap.  What I don't have is a weirdness magnet, and until you
 have one of those puppies, you're nobody.
      "Listen, kid, I gotta run.  I'll see you next Sunday, same
 time.  Okay?"
      "Sure, Mr. Bierce."
      He opened the door in a blinding rush, and then scurried for
 the bus stop.  One of the prerequisites of being a Trenchcoater
 apparently was lack of driving skills.  I watched for several
 minutes as Eldritch bolts whissed over his head, hurled by a
 strange dark native, wearing a Walrus costume.  It was going to be
 one of those Sundays...
      No it wasn't.  Damn it!  _No_it_wasn't!_  It wasn never going
 to be one of those Sundays again, because I wouldn't let it.  I had
 the tools, the talent, the time, the tokens for the train, and the
 tender to make it in the world of the Occult.  I even had a
 Trenchcoat, for God's sake, not to mention, fairly well honed
 alliterative skills that would pass for spellcasting in tense
 moments.   I was ready for all the world would hurl me in its
 primal fury.  All I had to do now was find a weirdness magnet.
      If I only knew what it was...

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        by tgt33358@uxa.cso.uiuc.edu



==========

Next Week:  More NTB Fun with Wrath of The Administrator Part Five!!

==========

Arthur "Same Classic Channel.  But Same Time?  Probably not." Spitzer

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<div dir=3D"ltr">And we're back in the past and can check the eyrie arc=
hive <br>once again.<br><br><br>Here's where you can find this and more=
 NTB One Shots:<br><br><a href=3D"https://archives.eyrie.org/racc/ntb/One.S=
hots/">https://archives.eyrie.org/racc/ntb/One.Shots/</a><br><br><br>And it=
's the next part of The Wrath of The Administrator.<br>Three Interludes=
 is by Ken Primer.<br>Part Five is by Timothy "Jellomancer" Toner=
.<br><br>(Also a little correction -- 'Kit' is Christopher Tatro<br=
>although he probably went by kristoff too...)<br><br><br>Is it time for a =
snowball 'BLOOD BRAWL'?!=C2=A0 And is there<br>room -- for JELLO?!!=
!!! =C2=A0(trick question -- there is <br>always room for Jello!=C2=A0 All =
Praise The Dark Gods of JELLO!)<br><br><br><br>Find Out In...<br><br><br><b=
r><br><br><br><br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =
=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0C L A S S I C<br><br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0=
 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 N E T =C2=A0T R E =
N C H C O A T =C2=A0B R I G A D E<br><br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0=
 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=
=A0 A D V E N T U R E S =C2=A0#362<br><br><br><br><br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =
=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0=3D=3D=
=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =
=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 W R A T H =C2=A0O F =C2=A0T H E =C2=A0A D M I N=
 I S T R A T O R<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0=
 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0Part Four<br>=C2=A0=
 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=
=A0 =C2=A0=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D<b=
r><br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0<br><br><br>		 =C2=A0=
T =C2=A0H =C2=A0R =C2=A0E =C2=A0E =C2=A0 =C2=A0I =C2=A0N =C2=A0T =C2=A0E =
=C2=A0R =C2=A0L =C2=A0U =C2=A0D =C2=A0E =C2=A0S<br>		 =C2=A0---------------=
------------------------------<br><br><br>---------------------------------=
----------------------------------------------<br><br>1.<br><br>=C2=A0 =C2=
=A0Lady Johanna Constantine is walking down the street her mind on importan=
t<br>matters like where can she get the money to buy some chocolate.<br><br=
>Suddenly she spins around...<br>"Damn, I thought someone was followin=
g me."<br><br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0She continues her stroll, her mind now on w=
here she can get money to buy<br>cigarettes.<br><br>She stops again...<br>&=
quot;I'm sure I saw something out of the corner of my eye..."<br><=
br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0She turns the corner, her mind on where she can buy chocola=
te covered<br>cigarettes. =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =
=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 <br><br>=C2=
=A0 She stops again, but not because she thinks she saw something...she jus=
t<br>walked into it. In front of her is a man wearing an ugly brown coat, b=
lue <br>jeans, and shoes that are a few stiches form total diasaster. One a=
rm is<br>behind his back and his expression is one of malignant joy.<br><br=
>=C2=A0 =C2=A0"Look, get a clue...the answer is still NO! she said.<br=
>=C2=A0 =C2=A0"HEHEHEHEHEHEHEH" the man chortled. "You humil=
iated me...*wheeze* I'm gonna<br>give you what you should have gotten a=
 long time ago".<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0LJC looks at the man and ponders...(s=
moke rises from her ears) suddenly<br>a horrible thought comes to mind.<br>=
=C2=A0 "No....You wouldn't dare..." she stammers as she looks=
 for an escape.<br>=C2=A0 "HEHEHE YUP, I'm gonna do to you what I&=
#39;ve wanted to do for for a long time."<br>he grinned and wiped foam=
 of his lip as he loomed closer and closer....<br><br><br><br><br><br><br><=
br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 *w=
hap* a snowball whizzes past her ear and hits a wall. The man`s crazed<br>j=
oy is replaced by a look of great tragedy as he falls to his knees.<br>=C2=
=A0 =C2=A0"So close, so close how could I miss?" he moaned.<br><b=
r>=C2=A0 =C2=A0*whap* a snowball hits him in the eye. LJC laughs and and ru=
ns away.<br><br><br>2.<br><br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0>> somewhere in an a dilap=
idated apartment at the edge of town <<<br><br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0Ken brood=
s on the turn of events.<br>"Damn, this kind of thing can't go una=
venged...LJC is beginning to cop<br>an attitude." he thought to himsel=
f.<br><br>=C2=A0"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRG!" came from behind the=
 closet door.<br>=C2=A0"Quiet Mongo, I'll feed you in good time, b=
ut at the moment I'm hatching an<br>evil plot."<br>=C2=A0 "BL=
LLLLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!" Mongo snorted as he clanked his chains.<br>=C2=
=A0"I say! Be quiet, or I'll...hey...I know this gives me an idea.=
"<br>He opens the closet door cattle prod ready in one hand. Inside is=
 a large<br>humanoid shaped creature covered in brown fur and wearing chain=
s. It looks<br>at Ken with Malevolent red eyes. Ken sizes up the 10 inch cl=
aws and fangs while<br>he throws it a slab of meat. As the creature wolfs d=
own it's meal, Ken forms a<br>plan.<br>=C2=A0 "Mongo, I have a job=
 for you...when you complete it, I will reward you <br>handsomely."<br=
>=C2=A0 =C2=A0"MMMMMMMMM KIIIIIIITY?" Mongo asked.<br>=C2=A0 =C2=
=A0"No, you can't have my cat. Now here's a pack of cigarettes=
 and a box of<br>chocolates...NO Don't eat them! This is the bait...now=
 here's my plan."<br><br><br>=C2=A0<br><br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0Later that=
 day LJC is walking to class trying to think of an excuse to tell<br>the pr=
ofessor for not showing up for 3 weeks. Suddenly her path is blocked by<br>=
a figure that dropped from a treelimb above. It was wearing a trenchcoat an=
d<br>a fedora but nothing else. It stared at her with gleaming red eyes and=
 foam<br>dripping from it's mouth. gripped in one paw was a snowball.<b=
r><br>LJC looked at the fangs, claws, and snowball....<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0&quo=
t;Ohyouaresocute!" she declared while fluttering her eyes in a way tha=
t<br>caused several male onlookers to faint.<br><br>"Areyouastudenther=
e?Whatyearareyou?Thisismysecondyear,wellactuallymyfirstyearat<br>theUofI,my=
firstyearwasspentinMadridIwenttoschooltheresoIguessthatmakesmeasophom<br>or=
e....<br>=C2=A0 "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRG!!!! Mongo roared.<b=
r>=C2=A0 "Ohthat'sinteresting,whatisyourfavoritetvshow?MineisQuant=
umLeap.Doyoureadcomi<br>cs?IlikeSandman,Hellblazer,DeathHighcostofLivingsom=
epeoplethinkIlooklikeDiDiY'k<br>nowbutnotsinceIgotmyhaircutnowmyhairist=
ooshortAreyouaPagan?<br>=C2=A0 "YAAAAAAAAARRRRG!" Mongo yelled.<b=
r>=C2=A0 "UhhumIseeyouputitsoeloquentlyDoyoulikeanime?I'mintheanim=
eclub,nextsemesterth<br>eclubofficerswon'tbeheresotheyaskedmetobeanoffi=
cer,me?Canyoubelieveit?Meincharg<br>e?Ihopeforthegoodoftheclubthatitdoesn&#=
39;thappen.AmIspeakingtoofast?*giggle*<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0"eeep!" mo=
ngo whined<br>=C2=A0 "Doyouhaveacigarette?Iquitsmokingaboutthirtyminut=
esagowhenIfinishedthelastpac<br>kmmmmI'mhungrydosmellchocolate?CanIhave=
some?thankyouyouaresonice!Toobadmydormit<br>orydoesn'tallowpets.Icouldt=
elltheRAthatyouareaveryhairyfreshmanthatImetinabar*t<br>eehee*myfatherwould=
lovetomeetyouhealwaysencouragesmetommeetinterestingpeople.Do<br>youlikeIris=
hcooking?yes,ittakessomegettingusedtobut...<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0"ulp."=
; Mongo gurgled.<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0"doyouknowKenPrimer?Yousoundjustlikeh=
immaybeyoushouldmeethimheycanyoudomeabi<br>gfavor?" she smiled in a wa=
y that caused Mongo's snowball to melt instantly. =C2=A0 <br><br><br>=
=C2=A0 A few minutes later that day Ken is pacing the length of his apartme=
nt.<br>"1,2,3,4 turn 1,2,3,4"<br><br>=C2=A0 *knock knock*<br>&quo=
t;Aha! Mongo has returned! Vengence is mine!" he said as he opened the=
 door.<br><br>=C2=A0 *whap* a snowball hits him in the face.<br>"AAAAH=
AAAHAAAHAAA." Mongo chortled.<br><br><br>3.<br><br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0The fi=
rst warm day of Spring and LJC is sitting on the quad.<br><br>AAAAAAAAH...w=
arm weather! sittin' in the sun and NO MORE SNOW! NO MORE <br>SNOWBALLS=
!<br>*sizzle* *sizzle*<br>=C2=A0 "Oh damn, I keep forgetting the Irish=
 people should stay out of the sun" she<br>mused as she watched Mongo =
lope towards her.<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0"HMMMM FEEEERRRR YYYYEEEEEWWWWW"=
; Mongo said as her dropped a grisley prize<br>at her feet.<br>=C2=A0 =C2=
=A0"Oh how...sweet...a headless squirrel...I'll treasure it, you g=
o take it and<br>show it to your friends ok?" she asked sweetly.<br>Mo=
ngo ambles off to play with the quad dogs.<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0"The hall R=
A is getting suspicious about him...what shall I do?" she <br>thought.=
<br>Suddenly...(yeah you saw this coming eh?)<br><br>The ground shakes....a=
 huge shadow falls over the quad...the ground shakes<br>again, so hard that=
 it causes everyones voice to be out of synch. LJC looks up<br>and beholds =
a 100 meter tall metal behometh. Humanoid in shape, the Robot looms<br>over=
 her ominously.<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0"this is getting tiresome...Ken? Is th=
at you again?" she asked.<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0"Bwahahahahahahahaha tr=
y to get out of this one eh?" a familiar voice<br>boomed. LJC covers h=
er ears, the volume is cranked higher than a Megadeath <br>concert.<br>=C2=
=A0 =C2=A0" Behold The Mark IV experimental winter warbot aka "Sn=
owbunny". It has<br>Three rapid fire snowball guns. Three racks of wir=
e, radar and heat seeking <br>snowballs. A mega snowball gun that fires sno=
wballs as big as a car. A<br>snowthrower, a refridgerator that makes instan=
t snow, and an ice cube maker for<br>drinks... Well? What do ya think?"=
; he paused.<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0"HUH? I can't hear you? Your speakers=
 have made me deaf." LJC answers.<br>High up in the cockpit located in=
 the head of the mecha Ken reaches for the<br>volume dial which has been se=
t at 11. It doesn't budge. Ken opens the canopy<br>and yells at the sma=
ll figure at the feet of the bot.<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0"I said, Aren't =
you impressed?" He yelled.<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0"Huh?" as she cup=
ped her hand over her ear.<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0"Damn, I just climb down!&q=
uot; he exclaimed.<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 "LJC, aren't you impressed?&qu=
ot; he said as stepped off the huge foot next to <br>her.<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0&=
quot;Oh yes, can you show me how the refridgerator works?" She said wh=
ile <br>fluttering her eyes.<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0"Sure no problem...Y'=
see this panel here? I can access the fridge and make<br>a snowball by hand=
, he said as he reached in and grabbed a handful of snow.<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0&=
quot;Tadah! One fine hand made snowball, ain't it COOL?" Ken said =
as he <br>displayed his work.<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0"Oh you are soooo witty =
*giggle* can I look at that snowball?" she asked.<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0&quo=
t;Sure! Here ya go...Do you like it? Nice aerodynamic shape eh?" he sa=
id.<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0"Yes, very nice." she commented as she nails =
Ken right between the eyes.<br>"Duoh'...fooled by feminine whiles =
again!" Ken complained as he reached towards<br>the fridge.<br>=C2=A0 =
=C2=A0"No, just stupid." Came a chorous of voices from all around=
.<br>Ken looks up and sees that he surrounded by an angry mob of trenchcoat=
 clad<br>beings holding snowballs.<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0"Enough of the stup=
id snowball stories. Let him have it guys!" she ordered.<br>And Ken is=
 buried under an avalanch of snow....<br><br>------------------------------=
-------------------------------------------------<br><br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=
=A0 =C2=A0 by <a href=3D"mailto:ken@uxc.cso.uiuc.edu">ken@uxc.cso.uiuc.edu<=
/a><br><br><br><br><br>			 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 P =C2=A0A =C2=A0R =C2=A0T =C2=A0 =
=C2=A0F =C2=A0I =C2=A0V =C2=A0E<br>			 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 ----------------------=
--<br><br>-----------------------------------------------------------------=
--------------<br><br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 The electronic buzzer zapped the=
 fading tendrils of a really<br>=C2=A0interesting dream into oblivion.=C2=
=A0 I had learned to hate the<br>=C2=A0machine, but it was the only thing o=
n this planet that would awaken<br>=C2=A0me, and was a large reason why I g=
raduated last year. =C2=A09 AM classes<br>=C2=A0are a bitch, especially if =
you miss them.<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 I rolled out of bed.=C2=A0 Damn.=C2=
=A0 Sunday.=C2=A0 Why the hell did I set<br>=C2=A0my alarm clock for Sunday=
?=C2=A0 Then I remembered. =C2=A0_HE_ was coming. <br>=C2=A0I was out of be=
d and dressed in a flash.<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 First to the refrigerator=
.=C2=A0 It was a Kenmore, model XRT-14,<br>=C2=A0centuries old, with _plent=
y_ of shelfroom.=C2=A0 If cars were built like<br>=C2=A0refrigerators, the =
highways would be clogged with Model T's that<br>=C2=A0smelled faintly =
of mouldy lettuce, no matter how much baking powder<br>=C2=A0you added.<br>=
=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 As I suspected, with a quick peek, Number 15 was a com=
plete<br>=C2=A0failure.=C2=A0 DAMN!=C2=A0 Was I ever to understand the comp=
lexities of<br>=C2=A0Concorde Grape?=C2=A0 It never set properly at all.=C2=
=A0 My mother commented<br>=C2=A0that maybe Concorde Grape is especially se=
nsitive to chaos waves,<br>=C2=A0and is constantly being shaken up before i=
t can set.=C2=A0 My mother is<br>=C2=A0an idiot.=C2=A0 If Concorde Grape wo=
uld never set, then why would they<br>=C2=A0market the damn thing?=C2=A0 Th=
e fault had to lie within me.<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 Perhaps a note of int=
roduction is in order.=C2=A0 I am Weevil<br>=C2=A0Dendrite, recent graduate=
 of the University of Michigan, and dark<br>=C2=A0forseer of mystic events.=
=C2=A0 Some charlatans employ cards, others tea<br>=C2=A0leaves, still othe=
rs crystal balls.=C2=A0 My medium is perhaps the best,<br>=C2=A0for it is m=
odern, efficient, scientifically accurate, and tasty,<br>=C2=A0too.<br>=C2=
=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 It began, I suppose, with my mother.=C2=A0 She noted that=
 whenever<br>=C2=A0she would try to make Bundt cake (you know the one that =
requires the<br>=C2=A0special ring shaped pan, and that never came out righ=
t, with a<br>=C2=A0little bit left sticking to the side--which is what fros=
ting is<br>=C2=A0for, I guess) with fudge swirling in the mix, it never see=
med to<br>=C2=A0come out right.=C2=A0 She finally settled on a foolproof re=
cipe, and<br>=C2=A0concentrated on it for days.=C2=A0 After it had been bak=
ed, and came out<br>=C2=A0quite perfectly, she cut it up to serve at a part=
y.<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 Much to the chagrin of the guests, the swirls in=
 the cake<br>=C2=A0seemed to form letters.=C2=A0 Some endeavored to try to =
arrange the<br>=C2=A0letters in a discernable pattern.=C2=A0 Most were shoc=
ked by the<br>=C2=A0relevation that AEEEEEGHHIIIIKLLMMMMNNPRRSSSTWY spelled=
 out "MRS.<br>=C2=A0MEYERS IS SLEEPING WITH THE MILKMAN," which w=
as very awkward,<br>=C2=A0since Mrs. Meyers was there with Mr. Meyers, as w=
ell as the<br>=C2=A0milkman.=C2=A0 After the fight was broken up, most of t=
he partygoers<br>=C2=A0left, thinking it it bad taste, which Miss Manners s=
upported. <br>=C2=A0"Dessert is supposed to be delicious, not maliciou=
s."<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 My mother, however, never intended it to b=
e slanderous. <br>=C2=A0Instead, she realized that she was blessed with pre=
ternatural<br>=C2=A0powers, to tell the future in baked goods.=C2=A0 A stro=
ngly devout<br>=C2=A0woman, she saw it was the work of the devil, and never=
 baked again<br>=C2=A0(which is why I always looked like a schmo at the bak=
e sales, with<br>=C2=A0twinkies in _my box._ =C2=A0Let my mom consort with =
Satan..._I_ wanted<br>=C2=A0tollhouse cookies!)<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 My =
power came to me at an early age.=C2=A0 Since baking was<br>=C2=A0outlawed =
in my house, for fear the curse had spread to the<br>=C2=A0children, the on=
ly dessert we could make was smooth, creamy Jello<br>=C2=A0products and ice=
 cream.=C2=A0 Since ice cream actually involved physical<br>=C2=A0labor in =
its production, as opposed to "add some hot water, stir,<br>=C2=A0add =
some cold water, stir, put in refrigerator, wait, eat," I<br>=C2=A0sel=
dom toiled in its production.=C2=A0 Jello was...fantastic, almost an<br>=C2=
=A0obsession with me.=C2=A0 Its colors, its textures, everything _screamed_=
<br>=C2=A0sensuality and _power!_ =C2=A0Oh, the power!<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=
=A0 Then I got out more often.<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 I did notice, after =
my Jello-retentive phase (wonder where<br>=C2=A0Freud put that one...), tha=
t whenever I approached a perfectly<br>=C2=A0molded piece of Jello, it shiv=
ered in my presence, as if scared I<br>=C2=A0might eat it (and with good re=
ason, too). =C2=A0<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 At first, I chalked it down to s=
eismic activity (well, I don't<br>=C2=A0weigh _that_ much, but I do enj=
oy the occassional gelatin dessert),<br>=C2=A0but then I noticed that it qu=
ivered as long as I stared at it. <br>=C2=A0Gravity?=C2=A0 Once again, I ne=
eded the mass of a small asteroid to<br>=C2=A0affect it so profoundly, and =
that wasn't the case (fortunately). <br>=C2=A0I then recalled it shiver=
ed more when I thought of certain things. <br>=C2=A0Things I was wondering =
about.=C2=A0 Things in the future.=C2=A0 And the more<br>=C2=A0it shook, th=
e more it came to pass.<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 It took me a B.A. in theore=
tical physics, an M.A. in mathematics,<br>=C2=A0and a PhD in Parapsychology=
 (the first two garnered from Sally<br>=C2=A0Struther's mail order scho=
ol when I was still a freshman in high<br>=C2=A0school) to truly understand=
 my uncanny powers.=C2=A0 Most people have a<br>=C2=A0small degree of preco=
gnitive powers.=C2=A0 Some can note patterns in tea<br>=C2=A0leaves as indi=
cation of how future events will transpire, others<br>=C2=A0rip open seagul=
ls and sniff their guts for a glimpse of the<br>=C2=A0unknown.=C2=A0 All th=
ese have one problem: =C2=A0they only gain a snapshot of<br>=C2=A0the futur=
e, a static representation taken at the moment of the<br>=C2=A0reading.=C2=
=A0 I, with my prodigious gelatin molds, capture the surges<br>=C2=A0of pro=
bability as they occur in the gentle wave form.<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 Now=
 I am quite the expert.=C2=A0 I have parlayed my power into a<br>=C2=A0subs=
tantial fortune, betting on American Gladiator events and the<br>=C2=A0occa=
ssional presidential election.=C2=A0 I have used my spare time, when<br>=C2=
=A0not watching MTV or drinking Peach Faygo, to perfecting my art. <br>=C2=
=A0Jellomancy is a harsh mistress, requiring persverance, talent, and<br>=
=C2=A0a good eye for quivers.=C2=A0 Some flavors work better than others. <=
br>=C2=A0Strawberry banana is a good overall flavor, while blackberry<br>=
=C2=A0should be universally avoided, since it only seems to predict the<br>=
=C2=A0coming of the Apocalypse, the rising of Elder Cthulhu from Ry'leh=
,<br>=C2=A0and the next time the Cubs win a world series.=C2=A0 I keep one =
in the<br>=C2=A0back, just in case.<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 Enough expositi=
on.=C2=A0 My guest has almost arrived.=C2=A0 I pull out<br>=C2=A0the orange=
 batch with little marshmallows I whipped up for such an<br>=C2=A0occasion,=
 and readied the table for the parlance that was to come.<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =
=C2=A0 Mere moments before his knuckles rapped on the door, I was<br>=C2=A0=
there, whipping it open, as his hand connected with empty air.=C2=A0 The<br=
>=C2=A0first few times I did this stunt, it really unnerved him, until he<b=
r>=C2=A0noticed the closed circuit tv on the door.=C2=A0 When one trafficks=
 with<br>=C2=A0the Trenchcoats, one must always be prepared.<br>=C2=A0 =C2=
=A0 =C2=A0 He slid in, and his whiskers scraped against the closing door<br=
>=C2=A0as he forced it shut, making a noise not unlike two pieces of<br>=C2=
=A0sandpaper rubbed together vigorously.=C2=A0 The guest was taller than I<=
br>=C2=A0by a few inches, and substantially thinner.=C2=A0 He smelled as if=
 he<br>=C2=A0hadn't washed in days, which was fairly accurate, and his =
hair was<br>=C2=A0a sullen blonde mop which looked like it had given up com=
bs for<br>=C2=A0Lent.<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 "Morning, Weeve," h=
e gasped.<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 "Morning, sir.=C2=A0 What's wron=
g?"<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 "They're after me.=C2=A0 Again.=
=C2=A0 I lost another one."<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 "Another what=
?"<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 "Another near, dear, close personal so=
ulmate.=C2=A0 The third this<br>=C2=A0week."<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 &=
quot;Oh dear, how did he go?"<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 "Lima beans=
.=C2=A0 Never trust them, Dendrite.=C2=A0 Vegetable of<br>=C2=A0darkness.&q=
uot;<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 That was my name.=C2=A0 Weevil Dendrite.=C2=A0=
 Hell of one, I know, but<br>=C2=A0with a goofy last name like Dendrite, th=
e first just _can't_ be<br>=C2=A0normal.=C2=A0 Most of my friends call =
me Weeve.<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 "Thanks for the tip.=C2=A0 Uh, you w=
ant to come in?=C2=A0 I'm all<br>=C2=A0ready."<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =
=C2=A0 He scooted past me, and headed for the kitchen, reaching into<br>=C2=
=A0a pack of silk cuts, and extracting one.<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 "S=
ir...remember when I asked you not to smoke?=C2=A0 That it ruined<br>=C2=A0=
my concentration?"<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 "What of it?=C2=A0 I o=
nly need a rough estimation.=C2=A0 If you tell me<br>=C2=A0exactly where it=
 is, then there'll be no suspense at all.=C2=A0 I'm just<br>=C2=A0s=
tacking the deck in their favor."<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 At the expen=
se of _my_ lungs.=C2=A0 He lit up.=C2=A0 It was time to pull<br>=C2=A0out t=
he big guns.<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 "Okay, Mr. _Constantine._"<b=
r>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 "BIERCE, DAMMIT!=C2=A0 ARE YOU _STUPID?_ =C2=A0=
You get that wrong every<br>=C2=A0felching WEEK!=C2=A0 Ambrose Bierce!"=
;<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 "Right, sorry.=C2=A0 It won't happen aga=
in.=C2=A0 I just got confused,<br>=C2=A0what with that fag dangling out of =
your mouth..."<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 He took it out and extinguished=
 it on the Arcane Talisman of<br>=C2=A0Unknown Power (TM) he had around his=
 neck.=C2=A0 Bierce then grabbed the<br>=C2=A0pack and offered them up to t=
he Great God of the Disposal that<br>=C2=A0lives under my sink.<br>=C2=A0 =
=C2=A0 =C2=A0 Score 1, Jellomancer.<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 <br>=C2=A0 =C2=
=A0 =C2=A0 The talk was productive.=C2=A0 We had ascertained Ambrose was be=
ing<br>=C2=A0pursued by a shaman of a lost zulu tribe that worshipped Tenes=
see<br>=C2=A0Tuxedo Velvet paintings...either that or some really nasty bil=
l<br>=C2=A0collectors.<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 "Well, it looks like I&=
#39;m up to my arse in trouble again." <br>=C2=A0There was a wide grin=
 on his face.<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 "Yup, Mr. Bierce, looks like you=
r life is in mortal peril,<br>=C2=A0your soul is in immortal peril, and the=
 world is in its standard<br>=C2=A0extradimensional-invasion-from-the-force=
s-we-don't-understand<br>=C2=A0peril."<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 &qu=
ot;Thanks, Weeve.=C2=A0 I owe ya."<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 From the am=
ount he "owed me," I was beginning to side with the<br>=C2=A0bill=
 collectors' story.<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 "Umm...one more thing.=
"<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 "Whassat, Weeve?"<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0=
 =C2=A0 "Mr.=C2=A0 Bierce, I just graduated college, am hopelessly ric=
h,<br>=C2=A0and have no real marketable skills.=C2=A0 Do you think I could =
aid you<br>=C2=A0in your quests against Things The Reader Was Not Meant To<=
br>=C2=A0Understand?"<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 He let out a heavy sigh,=
 and motioned as if he was going to<br>=C2=A0remove the cigarette, which wa=
sn't there, from his mouth in<br>=C2=A0disgust.=C2=A0 He tried to cover=
 up the obviously staged action by<br>=C2=A0scratching his belly on the dow=
nswing, popping off a button in the<br>=C2=A0process.<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=
=A0 "Weevil, we've had this discussion a _thousand_ times.=C2=A0 I=
t's<br>=C2=A0_WAY_ too dangerous.=C2=A0 All the people I get near die i=
n some<br>=C2=A0tragically horrid fashion.=C2=A0 I _don't_ want that to=
 happen to you."<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 "Why not?"<br>=C2=
=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 "Because I don't want you to die, that's why=
!=C2=A0 Is that so<br>=C2=A0terribly difficult to understand?=C2=A0 If I ma=
ke you my pal, then you<br>=C2=A0get cacked by commando squirrels from Satu=
rn, or some other arse-<br>=C2=A0backward threat, which no one can really e=
xplain.=C2=A0 That's why I'm<br>=C2=A0so mean to you, Weeve.=C2=A0 =
If I didn't, you'd be dead on the spot. <br>=C2=A0I'm doing you=
 a favor."<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 "Thanks a lot.=C2=A0 But you f=
orget, I'm immortal."<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 Oh yeah, I forgot to=
 tell you guys that in expostion.=C2=A0 More on<br>=C2=A0it later, when it =
becomes relevant.<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 "Immortality?=C2=A0 You call=
 that immortality?=C2=A0 Ha!=C2=A0 I'd really<br>=C2=A0take a good long=
 hard look at your role model, because that's all<br>=C2=A0he can do!&q=
uot;<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 "There's something you're not tel=
ling me."<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 "Felching heck.=C2=A0 All right=
, I'll admit it.=C2=A0 I need you, boy,<br>=C2=A0'cause I haven'=
;t got what it takes."<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 "To be what?=C2=A0=
 A professional moocher?=C2=A0 You do a pretty good<br>=C2=A0job at that.&q=
uot;<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 "Heh.=C2=A0 Good one, Weeve.=C2=A0 No, I =
mean I make a lousy<br>=C2=A0Trenchcoater."<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 &q=
uot;The one you have looks fine.=C2=A0 Stained and everything.=C2=A0 What&#=
39;s<br>=C2=A0that one?"<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 He looked at the red =
blotched, then rubbed a bit off with his<br>=C2=A0nail and tasted. =C2=A0&q=
uot;Goat blood.=C2=A0 No, virgin blood.=C2=A0 Definitely a<br>=C2=A0virgin.=
"<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 "See!=C2=A0 You have what it takes!&quo=
t;<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 "You understand so little, kid.=C2=A0 I can=
 do all that magic<br>=C2=A0claptrap.=C2=A0 What I don't have is a weir=
dness magnet, and until you<br>=C2=A0have one of those puppies, you're =
nobody.<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 "Listen, kid, I gotta run.=C2=A0 I'=
;ll see you next Sunday, same<br>=C2=A0time.=C2=A0 Okay?"<br>=C2=A0 =
=C2=A0 =C2=A0 "Sure, Mr. Bierce."<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 He open=
ed the door in a blinding rush, and then scurried for<br>=C2=A0the bus stop=
.=C2=A0 One of the prerequisites of being a Trenchcoater<br>=C2=A0apparentl=
y was lack of driving skills.=C2=A0 I watched for several<br>=C2=A0minutes =
as Eldritch bolts whissed over his head, hurled by a<br>=C2=A0strange dark =
native, wearing a Walrus costume.=C2=A0 It was going to be<br>=C2=A0one of =
those Sundays...<br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =C2=A0 No it wasn't.=C2=A0 Damn it! =
=C2=A0_No_it_wasn't!_ =C2=A0It wasn never going<br>=C2=A0to be one of t=
hose Sundays again, because I wouldn't let it.=C2=A0 I had<br>=C2=A0the=
 tools, the talent, the time, the tokens for the train, and the<br>=C2=A0te=
nder to make it in the world of the Occult.=C2=A0 I even had a<br>=C2=A0Tre=
nchcoat, for God's sake, not to mention, fairly well honed<br>=C2=A0all=
iterative skills that would pass for spellcasting in tense<br>=C2=A0moments=
. =C2=A0 I was ready for all the world would hurl me in its<br>=C2=A0primal=
 fury.=C2=A0 All I had to do now was find a weirdness magnet.<br>=C2=A0 =C2=
=A0 =C2=A0 If I only knew what it was... <br><br>--------------------------=
-----------------------------------------------------<br><br>=C2=A0 =C2=A0 =
=C2=A0 =C2=A0 by <a href=3D"mailto:tgt33358@uxa.cso.uiuc.edu">tgt33358@uxa.=
cso.uiuc.edu</a><br><br><br><br>=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D<br><br>Next =
Week: =C2=A0More NTB Fun with Wrath of The Administrator Part Five!!<br><br=
>=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D=3D<br><br>Arthur "Same Classic Channel.=
=C2=A0 But Same Time?=C2=A0 Probably not." Spitzer </div>

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