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Article #1964

LNH: Pliable Lad #10: Reality Takes a Paid Vacation

#1964
From: moving is hell
Date: Wed, 31 Aug 1994 05:59
222 lines
14499 bytes
        Before we begin, I should explain this for those new to the list
since PL #9.
        In return for Chris, Gadge, and Bill Paul posting some of their
early stories to alt.comics.lnh, I've decided to repost a few of my early
Pliable Lad stories to here.
        But first a few things you should know.
        The Legion of Net.Heroes started out on the newsgroup Rec.Arts.Com-
ics back in the Spring of 1992.  Then there was the great RAC* split, and
the group wound up on RAC.misc, acquiring an alt. group in September of
'92 or thereabouts.  There is now a RAC* group, rec.arts.comics.creative,
where the LNH also appears.
        Hrm.  I seemed to have rambled.  Anyways, here's the information
pertinant to this story:  The LNH consists of over 100 members -- that is,
over 100 characters -- so LNHers tend to do their own things while hanging
out at the LNH headquarters (or otherwise, in some cases).  Pliable Lad is
my focus character, and the character who has appeared in the majority of
my stories so far.  He actually comes from a different universe, but, at
the time that this story is set at, is suffering from near-total amnesia.
But that changes.
        Tour Guide Girl is Pliable Lad's girlfriend.  This was established
in #9.
        This issue ties into the "Bad Forms" storyline in Constellation
#14-16, which is also being reposted here.  Don't worry if those issues
havn't be reposted yet; I need to get these reposts caught up to where I
am on the series within the next month or so.
        Oh, yeah...the scene at the end was supposed to set up a crossover
another writer and I were going to do.  Said other writer has wandered, so
the story's in limbo.
        Ladies and gentleAuthors, I bring you Pliable Lad of the LNH.


        Pliable Lad #10: "Reality Takes a Paid Vacation"
        A "Bad Forms" tie-in, (c)1993 Mike Escutia
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
        [Opening quote deleted for failure to fill out forms AY294,
        Reservation of Quote Space, and BB7737X42, Request for Quote
        Marks.]
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

        "I said, I need to see your Form NJ209U, City of Net.ropolis Regis-
tration of Personal Nicknames.", the woman repeated.
        Pliable Lad and Tour Guide Girl looked at each other, each expecting
the other to come up with a good excuse to get them out of their current pre-
dicament.  The two net.heroes had been confronted on their way back from the
Pizza Pit by a woman asking to see some form neither LNHer had heard of be-
fore.  Even worse, things were just a bit too orderly around them, and amaz-
ingly efficient, as well.
        "Umm...", Pli said.  "We didn't know there was a Form NJ209U."
        "You _didn't_ know?", the woman asked increduously.  She pulled out
of the small pack at her side two identical forms and gave one to each of
them.  "Fill out these forms and bring them to your local Form Request Cen-
ter.", she said sternly.
        "Which would be where, again?", Tour Guide Girl asked.
        The uniformed woman turned around and scanned the buildings.  "Right
over there, in that building.", she said.

                *       *       *       *       *

        "That building" turned out to be the LNHQ itself, though that did
not make Pli and Touri's job any easier.  The Form Request Center itself
turned out to be the receptionist's desk, and the two net.heroes spent
a few hours there filling out form after form, almost every one being a
request for the form following it.  Finally, after about what seemed like
five or six hours, they finished filling out the forms and headed upstairs
to Pli's quarters.  Along the way, the noticed that the hallways looked
more like office hallways, which made them wonder about the rooms them-
selves.  Pli feared the worst.
        Slowly and carefully, Pli unlocked his door and opened it, bracing
himself for any possibility.  But nothing could prepare him for what he
saw next.
        "AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  MY ROOM!", he screamed.
"What happened to my room?  Everything's so...organized and everything..."
        "Well, at least you won't have to clean it up.", Touri said with
a smile.
        "It's not funny!", Pli said.  "It's been turned into an...*office*!
Something strange is going on, Touri (can I still call you that?)."
        "C'mon," Touri said as she turned to leave the room.  "let's check
my room.  (Not legally, I think.)"  Pli, still gaping at his...office, only
left when she practically dragged him out, and couldn't take his eyes off of
what was his quarters.

                *       *       *       *       *

        Curly woke up expecting to find himself under Kid Anarky's bed, just
as he had been every day since the receptionist had kicked him out from under
his desk.  This day, however, he awoke to find himself under another desk.  It
wasn't the receptionist's desk --he could see out from it-- but it wasn't any
desk that he recognized, either.  What's more, the room he was in looked
_awfully_ familiar.  He decided there was only one thing to do.
        He got out from under the desk.
        Then he recognized the room: it was Kid Anarky's.  Which meant that
somebody had replaced all of Kid Anarky's stuff with office...stuff.
        "Kid Anarky ain't gonna like this.", he mumbled as he turned over and
went back to sleep.  "He gonna be reeeaaalllll mad!"

                *       *       *       *       *

        "AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!", Tour Guide Girl exclaimed
as she and Pli entered her quarters.  "My room!  It happened to my room, too!"
Like Pli's room, Touri's had been turned into an office, too.  Pli resisted
the urge to comment.
        "Um...I'm going to go take another look at my 'office'.", he told
her.  "You going to be okay?"
        "Yeah...", she said.  "I'll be fine."
        "Ok.  I'll be back in a few.", he said as he left, jogging down the
hall.
        Touri started walking around the room, looking at the blue-and-white-
striped wallpaper.  (For some strange reason, it reminded her of the office of
her last employer.)  She studied the human-sized floor plants --they were
ferns, which seemed to be popular in offices-- and skimmed over the bookshelf
that was where her bureau (no, not THAT kind!) once was.  Approaching the
room's one window, which was now covered by vertical blinds, she looked out
to see the same street of Net.ropolis she was used to seeing, and yet it was
far from the same.  Slowly walking over to the desk, she sat down in the chair,
which was more of an office chair than a bedroom chair, laid her head face down
in her arms, and wept.

                *       *       *       *       *

        Down in the LNHQ basement, a lone cat girl awoke to find herself
surrounded.  Reacting reflexively, she drew the sword from the hilt laying
by her side, and, bounding to her feet, raised the sword to be ready for an
attack.
        But no one attacked.  She was surrounded by boxes.
        "What the...", she began.  Deciding to see just what was in the boxes,
she carefully opened one up with one hand, her other hand still griping the
sword, just in case she needed it.  Inside the box, she found paper.  More
precisely, she found forms.  The kind that you don't really want to fill out,
but have to.  And lots of them, too.  Inspection of another dozen boxes, via
the sword, revealed the same contents.  She didn't bother with the remaining
boxes.
        As she cautiously left the room, her mind traced back to the events
of a few hours ago, when she had returned to the LNH.  She knew something
was wrong, but she didn't know what.  She had a feeling, however, that it had
something to do with an office...

                *       *       *       *       *

        Back in his "office", Pli wandered around the room, making sure ever-
ything was there.  All of his books, which were previously in random order
on a few shelves and other places about his room, were now ordered alphabet-
ically in a white wooden bookcase near his desk.  The desk itself was where
his bed used to be, and his bed was nowhere to be found.  The desk was white
and black, and seemed to fit the room very well.  The chair was a black vel-
vet recliner, and looked inviting, so Pli sat down in it.  Sitting down felt
good, as he had been on his feet ever since he and Touri had left the Pizza
Pit.  His legs hurt.
        Closing his eyes, he let his mind wander...

        Pli was busy filling out form after form, just as he had been doing
every day for just over a year now.  His job was to make sure that the building
had enough supplies to keep operating non-stop.  To others, it would instantly
seem dull and tedious, but he enjoyed his work, since he did not have much
else.  He did nothing but fill out forms, which didn't seem to bother him in
the least bit.
        All of a sudden, he got the urge to go for a walk.  It was strange,
since he had not had such an urge in months.   Yet, it was an urge he could-
n't resist.
        Stepping out of his office, he randomly picked a direction and walked
that way.  But as he walked, he realized that it wasn't a random choice; some
part of him wanted to walk in this direction.  Pli couldn't understand why,
but he decided to see where it took him.
        In her office one floor up, Tour Guide Girl was busy filling out the
day's paperwork when she, too, felt like going for a walk.  She wasn't finished
with the paperwork --the pile that she still had to do was taller than her desk
lamp-- and the next office tour wasn't until 1:00pm, but she just couldn't stay
seated.  Clicking her pen closed, she got up, stretched, and wandered out into
the hall, deciding to go take a look out the window at the far end of the hall.
        As she walked, she failed to notice the rather long stream of forms
wending its way around the corner and towards her.  Silently, it crept closer,
until it was in striking distance.  Then, it pulled back, ready to snap forward
in an instant.
        "Touri!  Get out of there!", shouted a voice from behind Tour Guide
Girl.  Whirling about, she saw Pliable Lad down at the far end of hall, run-
ning towards her, his body extending as he ran.  But her view was suddenly
blocked as the stream of forms shot down in front of her.
        Suddenly, something yanked it back, and with a growl, it turned and
attacked its attacker.  All Tour Guide Girl could see was the stream of forms,
which looked more like a giant worm made out of paper, and Pli, who was
stretched out to the same length, intertwining and attacking each other.  Sud-
denly, the confusing mass of person and paper starting collapsing in on it-
self, disappearing completely with a climatic "pop".
        Tour Guide Girl, confused and just a bit scared, did the only thing she
could do at that point.  She screamed.

        "Touri...Touri..."
        Tour Guide Girl awoke to find herself laying face down on her bed,
her head buried in her pillow.   Pli was squatting down next to the bed, a look
of concern on his face.  The office furniture was gone, and Touri's room was
back to normal.
        "Are you okay?", he asked.
        "I...I had the strangest dream...", she began weakly as she sat up.
        "I know.  I had it, too.", Pli said.  "Only, I don't think it was a
dream.  At least not all of it.  I'll have to talk to somebody about it.  Maybe
Kid Anarky when he comes back from Antarctica, or Sig.Lad."
        "Oh!  Than it *was* real.", Touri said.  "I was so scared."
        "Me too.", Pli admitted as he sat down next to her.  He was relieved
to see that she was alright.
        "Is this a private moment or can I come in and say hi?", came a voice
at the door.  Pli and Touri both looked up to see...
        "Panta?!?"

        *             *             *                *               *

                Epilogue -- the Alt.veria embassy in Net.ropolis:

        Mivegar walked briskly into the office, a look of concern on his face.
Ambassador Mulnz had never been late to tea, and this was most unusual.
        The ambassador was on the phone --the direct line to the Alt.verian cap-
ital-- a shocked look on his face.  "...<Yes, yes, I understand.  I'll inform
the United Nations immediately>", he was saying in Alt.verian.
        Hanging up, the ambassador turned to his assistant, a sad look in his
eyes.
        "<What is it, General?  What's wrong?>", Mivegar asked.
        "<There's been a coup.>", came the reply.


--
Mike Escutia | NOTICE: If you notice this notice, you will notice after
mike@unh.edu | noticing this notice that this notice was not worth noticing.
Ergh on IRC  | ---------------------Read Superguy!--------------------------
-----Author, "Hero Patrol", Superguy Digest (listserv@ucf1vm.cc.ucf.edu)----
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From: moving is hell <MikE@UNH.EDU>
Subject: LNH: Pliable Lad #10: Reality Takes a Paid Vacation
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