🚀 go-pugleaf

   They entered the motel in a conga line, singing "We Are the
Champions" at the tops of their lungs as they took a victory lap
around the courtyard.  The denizens of the Dillweed City Motor
Lodge and Syphilis Clinic peered out their windows at the three
supervillainesses, marveling at the way the rain made their
costumes appear almost transparent.  The three then danced their
way into room 22, and their observers reluctantly went back to
whatever they had been doing before.
   Number One leaped onto one of the beds and spiked a large
moneybag like a football.  "Touchdown!  Two-point-three million
dollars in untraceable cash!"  Then she noticed Number Six fast
asleep in the other bed.  "Oops, sorry," she added in a whisper.
Number Six stirred in her sleep but did not wake up.
   "You were able to get *all* of the money from the armored
truck?" asked Nobody Important.  He sounded surprised and
strangely disappointed.
   "Want us to bring the rest of it in?" asked Number Three.  She
playfully tousled Number Six's hair, and the girl smiled in her
sleep and rolled over.
   "I don't understand...  You guys are almost *never* able to
follow one of my master plans without messing it up!  Weren't
there any complications this time?"
   "Well, we did have to use contingency 4-R," said Number Two,
distastefully.  "I knew we couldn't trust that albino to properly
lubricate the bison..."
   "But what about Spoonman?" he demanded.  "Surely he must have
tried to stop you!"
   "Oh, he was there all right, opening one of his Spoonman
Souvenir Shoppes right across the street from the bank."  Number
One stuck her tongue out distastefully.  "Then, after we showed
up, he spent most of the time cowering behind the podium."
   "I think he's just a big fraud, boss," Number Two added.
Nobody Important threw the moneybag at her, but she turned
insubstantial and let it pass harmlessly through her body.  Then
she reconsidered, and ran to the other side of the room in time to
allow the bag to hit her hard in the stomach.
   "Spoonman is my nemesis, and I won't stand for any of you
badmouthing him," Nobody Important declared.  "He is a
crimefighting genius, the first worthy opponent I have encountered
in my criminal career, and he deserves your respect."
   "Well, I suppose you know what you're talking about, boss--"
said Number One.
   "--and as loyal underlings, it's certainly not our place to
second-guess you," Number Two added.  "But Spoonman, well--"
   "He's an idiot!" exclaimed Number Three.  "And we mean that in
the most respectful way."  The three of them winced in
anticipation of the inevitable violence that their boss would
inflict upon them, but the blows never came.  Nobody Important was
too rapt in thought to even hear them.
   "He knew!" he exclaimed, after a long pause.  "Somehow he knew
that the whole thing was just a set-up!"
   "It was?"
   "Yes!  He knew that I was planning for all three of you to fail
and get yourselves captured!"
   "You were?"
   "Yes!  And he refused to fall for it!  Hmmmm.  He's even
smarter than I thought!"
   "Um, he is?"
   "Yes!  Why do you guys look so skeptical?"
   "No reason, boss.  So, what do you want us to do now?"
   "Why don't you go return that money, then we'll talk."
   "Return the money?" asked Number One, incredulously.  "You
mean, like, take it back to the bank?"
   "Number One, you should know by now that we're not in the
villain business for money, power, or fame."
   "Right, boss.  You're trying to get back at your brother--"
She slapped her hand over her mouth and looked for a quick escape.
   Nobody Important scowled at her.  "I've told you never to
mention my that... person," he stated coldly.
   "Sorry, boss.  Uh, we'll go return the money now, if that's
what you really want."
   The three underlings tromped back out into the rain, thoroughly
confused.  "All right," said Number Two.  "When we mess up, he
gets mad.  That part I understand.  And then, when we finally do
something right...  It doesn't make any sense!"
   "He's an evil criminal genius, Number Two.  He doesn't *have*
to make any sense," said Number Three.
   "Say, why don't we go on a little shopping spree before we
bring back the money?" Number One suggested.  "Two-point-three mil
goes a long way, even at Bloomingdales!"
   Back in the room, Nobody Important shook Number Six awake.
"Huh, what?  Is it time to go rescue the others?" she asked,
sitting up and rubbing her eyes.
   "I'm afraid they failed to get themselves captured."
   "Oh, darn."
   "But don't worry, Number Six..."  He dropped a thick booklet
into her lap.  "I have another plan, written just for you."
   She examined the first few pages of the plan.  "The Super
Seven?  Who are they?"
   "A group of young heroes who help Spoonman out from time to
time.  I believe that they will prove to be his Achilles' heal."
Number Six gave him a confused look.  "His weakness," he
explained.  "In order to defeat Spoonman, we must first destroy
the Super Seven!"


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                         DEAD AT @ 21 DAYS
                                 @

                          SUPER SEVEN #9
                        DEAD AT 21 DAYS #3
         Copyright 1994, Greg Fishbone, all rights reserved.

  Permission is hereby granted to disseminate or reproduce this
  work via electronic means only, for entertainment purposes only,
  and only if all attributions and headers remain in place and the
  text of the work (including attributions and headers) is not
  altered in any way.  Any reproduction of this work for profit of
  any form is strictly forbidden without the express written
  permission of Greg Fishbone.  Hard copy reproduction is limited
  to single copies printed for the use of the user only, and
  cannot be mass produced or disseminated in any way.  Implicit
  permission is granted to make reference to the characters and
  events of this work in the context of the Superguy Subtopic of
  the Superguy Mailing List only, and such use does not constitute
  an abridgement or relinquishment of any of Greg Fishbone's
  rights as they are expressed or implied herein.  All other
  rights not specifically referred to in this notice are reserved
  to Greg Fishbone.  "Super Seven", "Dillweed City", and all
  character names used in this story are trademarks belonging to
  Greg Fishbone, who reserves all rights to their use except in
  the context of explicit or implicit permission granted to
  Superguy authors.  (Gatorade contains: water, sucrose sugar,
  glucose-fructose syrup, citric acid, natural flavors, salt,
  sodium citrate, monopotassium phosphate, ester gum, yellow 5,
  brominated vegetable oil, and yellow 6.)

  As always, feedback to fishbone@astro.ocis.temple.edu


   Mark held the bits of scrap metal in place with his magnetic
powers as Kyle heated them to their melting point.  The liquid
metal poured into the cracks around the door, sealing it
completely.  "There," said Kyle, cooling the metal back to room
temperature.  "Now we won't have to worry about anyone from the
Maintenance Department or the Housing Office coming in here!"
   "Good," said Tom, who had just finished making two new
entrances to the dorm-room-turned-secret-headquarters.  A hole in
the left-hand wall led to the room where he and Mark were living,
and the other hole led to the twins' room.  Nick, of course, did
not need a door, and Kyle had made a copy of Stacy's key in case
he needed to enter the base when nobody else was around.
   "See?" asked Nick.  "I told you this would work!"
   "Yeah, this just puts the other super-groups' state-of-the-art
high-tech bases to shame," said Tracy and Stacy sarcastically.
   "Well, let's find out," said Nick, taking a magazine off of the
nearly empty bookshelf and handing it to Tom.
   "_The Superguy Companion Monthly_, the Magazine Written by
Superguys, for Superguys, about Superguys," Tom read from the
cover, "formerly _The Superguy Headquarters Companion_, formerly
_The Superguy Home Companion_.  In this issue, an Exclusive
Pictorial Review of the Trial of Spandex Babe; an Insider's Report
on the Breakup of Team M.E.C.H.A.; the second in our three-part
series, 'How to Cope with Post-Revolution Angst'; 101 More
Practical Jokes Involving Xolchaportation; Your Guide to the
Superguy World-Wide-Web Site; an Exclusive Interview with the
Second Most Totally Evil Kid in the Universe; Smartman's Monthly
Crossword Challenge; and this month's special quiz -- How Does
Your Secret Headquarters Measure Up?"
   "The quiz is on page 96."
   "Okay...  I can see already that we lose five points for not
having a juice-bar and espresso machine."
   "You only lose five points for that?" asked Kyle.
   "And another three for not having a hangar bay filled with air,
space, and ground vehicles, and four more for not having any
training facilities."
   "So we have something to work on in the future," said Nick.
"Go on."
   "Supercomputer with artificial intelligence program capable of
passing an unrestricted Turing test?"
   "Right here," said Nick.
   "Nick, that's a Mac SE/30."
   "With those little eyes in the menu-bar that follow the cursor
around the screen," he insisted.  Plus it has an Ethernet
connection to the school's mainframe."
   "Just give it to him, Tom," said the twins.  Tom shrugged and
checked the box next to the item in the quiz.
   "Costume storage and changing area?"
   "Over here -- we can keep our costumes in this closet, and
change in that one other there."
   "Library containing at least half a million volumes of
reference material?"
   "Check."
   "Where are you hiding it?" asked Kyle, looking around the room.
   "Two blocks down the street.  This is a university, remember?"
   "Xolchaportation station?"
   "I'm better than any old Xolchaportation station," said Nick.
"I can go *anywhere*!"
   "Okay, I'll give you that one.  High-tech communications
system?"
   "Check it out, we have a stereo, police-band radio, television,
and a cellular phone!"
   "And they only work when I'm not in the room," said Mark.
   "Well, yeah..."
   "I'll give you half-credit," said Tom.  "Medical facilities?"
   "Yup."
   "What do you mean, 'yup'?"
   "Two beds and a first-aid kit," said Nick.  "Plus you know CPR,
don't you Kyle?"
   "Yup."
   "Another half-credit.  Automated defense system?"
   "Sure, nobody can get into the building without a valid school
ID card."
   "I don't think that counts."
   "Put it down anyway."
   "Okay, that's it," Tom announced, after going through about a
dozen more items.  "Now when we add it all up we come out with
sixty-seven points.  Going over to the score column, it says--
Yeah, that figures."
   "What?"
   "See for yourselves."  Tom put the magazine down on the desk
and the others gathered around it to see what a sixty-seven meant.

      63. Not a bad secret base, but you may want to consider
          relocating to an area with more crime.
      64. Tres chic!  Very trendy!  We approve!
      65. Pretty good, but beware of lemurs tunnelling in through
          your lower level.
      66. Cool, dudes!  The tanning salon was a perfect touch!
      67. You are the Super Seven.  If this magazine could talk it
          would be laughing at you.


WHY IS THE TEASER BEFORE THE TITLE LONGER THAN THE STORY ITSELF?
  (Don't ask me, I just work here.)

WHY DID THE AUTHOR PUT A LIST OF INGREDIENTS IN THE DISCLAIMER?
  (Because nobody reads that part anyway.)

WHO IS NOBODY IMPORTANT'S BROTHER?
  (Dunno...  Must be Somebody Important, eh?)

WHY ARE YOU ANSWERING THESE RHETORICAL QUESTIONS?
  (I'm bored.)

Look for the next *EXCITING* episode of *THE SUPER SEVEN* (where
  some *REALLY NEAT STUFF* happens and we start a *NEW CONTEST*),
  coming to you in a matter of *MINUTES* on *SUPERGUY*, the only
  listserv that gives you a full day's supply of *VITAMIN C* in
  every 200-line *SERVING*!

--
Greg Fishbone                                  fishbone@astro.ocis.temple.edu

   "As you can see, Your Honor, I have no eyebrows."
           --Defendant on "The People's Court" responding to Judge Wopner's
             question: "What seems to be the problem, ma'am?"