PART XXVII - ERIC'S FUTURE WIDOW

Lovely Lumpy Linda Lonely sat in the corner, the Ring of Tuth the Whacko gleaming evilly on her finger. Her soul succumbed to the ring's evil with no fight. Eric paced the other side of the room, trying to find a bright side.

"Vell, dear its vonderful you have such ambition now. Still, I zink sacrificing a million mortals is a bit..."

"Shut up, you twit." Her voice was deep and menacing. Eric was accustomed to fear, but not of his fiancé. "And stop pacing. With that stride of yours you look ridiculous."

"Sorry dear..."

"Shut up."

She continued to stare into the ring and become more and more enveloped in its beauty. "Humanity doesn't need to survive for the universe to go on. We can leave our remains as a monument to our achievements for those who visit us later!"

"Ve could achieve more."

"Shut up!! We could achieve complete annihilation - what would that leave?"

"Nothing I guess."

"You're a simp Eric."

Eric tried again to lift his pants, but they were still too heavy. Linda looked into the Ring. "I want to drink from the skulls of America."

"I'm zhure you could find zomezing with more in it..."

She looked at him.

"I know. `Shut up.'"

All the while the Ring of Tuth the Whacko whispered into Linda's mind its plans and desires.

It had such sights to show her.

The Phoenix flew by the window, shrieking, "What am I doing here?!?"

Linda glared at Eric. The ring whispered. She stared into his eyes. His stare held the never dying love that was starting to falter and develop a cancer. Removing part of the heating radiator from the wall with one arm, she held it above her head.

"Vat are you do-ink sveetheart?"

"You're a fucking loser Eric. I can't allow you to exist among the elite."

The radiator came crashing down onto Eric's helpless frame, crushing him to death, and putting a few stains on the freshly sanded floors. It crashed again, and again, and then Linda pounced on the body, rending and stretching it into a more pleasing form.

She smiled. It was perfect. The legs were seven feet long, and the body hung between them. The face sat in the bottom of the torso, the arms protruding from behind the ears. Its enlarged genitals hung below the chin.

She punched its forehead with the Ring. With a spasm, life flooded back into the cadaver. It grinned back at her.

"How may I serve, mistress?"

"Any way I desire. What is your name?"

"Balldrip the Assassin."

PART XXVI - THE SUPREME BEINGS are at it AGAIN

KDAmery and CWBorysowich stood around their one to one scale model of eternity. KDAmery took the Arrow of Time and lined it up with Alpha Centigrade. "Betcha a dozen ion clusters I can get this into Rob Smith's armpit."

"Puhhh, Let's up the stakes a bit. 3 cans of Ready Whip says that you can't get the arrow to split his knee cap."

"Ignore the arrow, willya? I'm using it to shoot the star into his armpit. You do know how to play pool, right?"

"Ok, 5 bottles of Aqua Velva to drop it in the black hole near Mars."

"You're on. Incidentally, how long you think it'll take those scientists to spot that black hole in their neighbourhood?" KDAmery lined up the Arrow of Time.

"How long have they been working on that Stone Henge thing? Well, take that to the 2000th power. It only warps the orbit of the earth by 1 inch every fifty years. They won't notice until Mars becomes a moon."

"I suppose. Then again, after I drop a star into the thing, it'll probably get bigger..." He made the shot. Alpha Centigrade banked off the Magellan Clouds, spun into Michael Jordan's basketball, hopped over the Straits of Gibraltar, then spiralled through the asteroid belt on a Frequent Flyer tour before sliding into the pea sized black hole orbiting Mars. "Your shot."

"You call it."

"Hmm. Put the Clinton Economic Plan across the Milky Way in fluorescent plaid with a green undertone. It's worth a dozen Krakatoas."

"Alright." CWBorysowich rolled his Arrow of Time on the multiverse and noted that it was warped.

"Damn. Oh, well. Not a big deal I'll just have it orbit Cirrus for 113 earth years to compensate."

"What're you complaining about? You warped it last week when you tried to run the NeXT Operating system on an abacus, remember?"

CWBorysowich leaned down to set his shot. With a few micrometers of adjustments, he sent the economic plan through the multiverse. It passed through the M6 Galaxy and really perplexed the Vortons on the planet Gobal. It assumed its orbit around Cirrus for 113 earth years and caught a flight on Pan Dimensional Continuum lines through a version of the Milky way that had humans develop on Jupiter first and then popped back into our own petty existence again. As it gained speed from a ricochet off the Crab Nebula, and approached the speed of light, you could see the plaid pattern streak across the skies of Siberia.

"Not bad," said KDAmery, "But I would have given you more style points if you'd gotten the signatures of the Russian Revolutionary Committee on it first. What's my shot?"

"Take the Volumes of Zoroastrianism and have them result in intelligence for Paisley."

"Hey, man, let's stick to the realm of the possible, shall we?"

"I thought you were a supreme?"

"Yeah, so?"

"I'll bet 250 Hawaiian babes in grass skirts - and nothing else."

"Wait a minute, are you bribing me to wipe out the integrity of this piece with sex?"

"No."

"Sure, and bears travel warp speed. You know as well as I do that if Paisley gets a brain the course of the plot changes."

"True. So that means you give up then?"

"In your wet dreams, pal."

"Now, we're degrading this with sex again."

"Hey, you brought in the hula dancers. Now, lessee..." KDAmery grabbed the Sacred Volumes of Zoroaster, wrapped them around a block of Infinity Stuffing^TM and slingshotted them around the Dialogues of Mort and Phil. They banked around Leslie Street in Moose Genital Nebraska, then spiralled into a bowl of porridge Paisley was stirring absent mindedly. She picked up the strange lump, shrugged, and ate it.

Wisdom flooded into her mind. Suddenly, she knew. She knew. The wisdom washed through her headspace, then washed out, taking what little was there with it out her nose while whistling, "So Long, and Thanks for the Mammaries."

"Okay, pay up," said KDAmery.

"No, no, no. The intelligence had to stay."

"You didn't specify that beforehand. This way, I complete my part of the bet and the plot doesn't get twisted into something it isn't." KDAmery stuck his tongue out.

CWBorysowich's pager went off.

"Ahh, shit it's those blasted politicians again. Those guys are fucking useless."

"And whose fault's that?"

"Tell ya what. We'll settle this thing, double or nuthin' when I get back."

"Uh huh, I've heard that before."

PART XXV - THAT IDEA'S GOT LEGS

Harry sat on the remains of his sign as the workers rebuilt his hotel. Waiting. He hated sitting around, but there was fuck-all else to do while he waited for his new legs to arrive. "No, no, no, you idiots, the bar is supposed to be horizontal!"

The workers ignored him, and he thought of all kinds of things he'd like to do to them. Most required the help of the Secret Assassin, however, and Harry figured letting that guy know he was still alive was not such a cool idea.

A cloud of dust appeared down the road and from it emerged a blue Sears truck with a large bird perched on the top of it.

"What the hell am I doing here?" screamed the Phoenix, clinging to the roof.

The bird disappeared and Harry rubbed his eyes, shook his head and looked at the truck again. No bird. "Guess I picked the wrong week to stop sniffing musty burlap!"

After backing in, two guys jumped out of the truck and opened the doors. They pushed out a large crate, procured Harry's signature and zoomed off again.

"My legs!"

Tearing into the packaging, Harry extracted the limbs.

"Great, not what I wanted, the wrong size, and not my colour!"

Harry held two grasshopper legs - each about six feet long - in his hands.

"Damn catalogues! You can never figure out those stupid numbers!" Slowly, he attached them and started hopping around the construction site.

"Where the fuck's that phone... Hey dude, hand me that will ya? Thanks." He dialled Sears Customer Service. "Hello? Yeah, I ordered a set of legs the other day... Yeah, they're not quite right... Lets just say I'm not a giant grasshopper... Yes it is a problem... Well, that's no excuse... Look, I want a set of human legs... Yes, it really is a problem, some guy over there is looking at me funny and holding a can of Raid... Alright, I'll hold."

Trying to wait patiently, Harry started to get really nervous when the Pest control company showed up. Then she came back on the line.

"Yeah, I'm still here... I'm serious about this, there's some guys here ready to gas me... I dunno, they think I'm going to wreck the crops or something! Hang on a second." Harry covered the mouthpiece for a moment. "Uh, look dudes, this is all a big mix up. Could you hang on until I'm finished bitching at the company that shipped me these? Thanks. Still there? Yeah, its a real bind... Look, how many people really want grasshopper legs?... Sure, and I'm a crop eater... Oh SHIT!!!"

Harry jumped twenty-five feet as the PCO people fired everything they had at him. The phone cord pulled out, the PCO guys reloaded, and Harry bounded off.

"Sheeze, you'd never have thought running a hotel would be this difficult!"

The PCO guys looked at each other. "Wow, they'll never believe this!"

"Yeah, we're already on probation after that jail incident."

"Hey, that was only a small oversight. How were we supposed to know that those guys wanted to get out of there?"

"I know but this one takes the cake. They're never going to believe a six-foot half human grasshopper talking on the phone."

A fizzling image appeared and in popped Smokey the Bear from the USS Unlimited, Inc. "Have any of you guys seen Yellowstone?"

The two PCO guys let out a short burst of manic laughter, jumped into their van and weaved down the road back to the nearest bar.

Smokey watched them flee. "Jeeze, you'd think they'd just seen a six-foot grasshopper. Must be injecting Kevlar fibre. Unlimited, one to zap up."

PART XXIV - THE STICK in the MUD PIE

Three kids sat huddled around a small pit in the driveway, shooting marbles. They each missed, but with nine shots in their automatics, they had plenty of ammunition to hit those pesky pieces of glass. All would have been well, had the slugs not ricocheted into their dad's car.

"Uh-oh," they said in perfect synchronicity.

Ms. Vickers walked around the corner, saw the boys, and started to shake her head. She was wearing her bonnet, a Victorian outfit from ankle to neck and possibly even a chastity belt - we didn't have the balls to check.

{Yet another Author's Note: For the record, it was CWBorysowich who was short on balls. I just wasn't interested.

KDAmery}

"Tsk tsk... Shouldn't be letting mere children play with firearms!"

"Look granny, they're only snail guns. You put snails in here and slugs come out here!"

"Yeah and the shells eject out the side."

Ms. Vickers shook her head again. "Still, look at the mess you've made of that car. Cleanliness is next to godliness. Not to mention the cruelty to those poor..."

"Hey, that snail's getting away!"

Ms. Vickers looked down and saw the snail climb onto her shoe. "Eeeeeeek! Get that thing off me! Such unclean things!" She kicked it off and stepped on it. "Oh no! I killed a living creature!" She rushed to the lawn, wiped off her shoes, and dropped to her knees, reciting twenty-three Hail Marys.

The boys giggled and ran into the back garden to find more snails.

Ms. Vickers continued reciting her rosary as Guido - the first disciple and the reason for needing sixteen more - looked at the dripping slugs on his car and then at the praying weirdo on his lawn.

"Muh-thah of God, how am I evah gonna get to Skuppernung's-a funeral ona time?! Ey lady! Take-a you slugs and get offa my lawn!"

Rushing to her feet and brushing off her petticoats, she turned to Guido and stammered "I am Ms. Petunia Vickers and I must iterate clearly that I had absolutely nothing to do with this outrage upon your vehicle."

"Whata da hell is stuck upa you skirt lady? You-a flatten my grass an you make-a da neighbours stare. Madre de Dios, you are worse dan my kids!"

Stuffing her nose in the air she blurted "Well I never!" And stomped off with the snail shell still crackling under foot.

"Anda you probly nevah will!" Guido pulled open the car door and hopped in. Revving up the engine he tore down the street.

As he passed her, Ms. Vickers said, "Dirty gangster. Oh! I maligned another human being!" She dropped to her knees again, landing on a June bug.

PART XXIII - QUANTUM MECHANICS and BASIC COMMANDO REPAIRS

Lawrence the Arabian opened his eyes and saw horseshoes. Pushing his stall door open, he cantered out to the paddock to find a trainer, or a groom, anyone who could relieve him of this over-enthusiastic hoofwear.

There was no one around.

"Dammit, don't tell me they fell down that space warp again."

Bursting through the time space continuum, ushered by several flares and shrink wrapped jellybeans, came Bob the Quantum Mechanic. Putting down his toolbox, Bob asked, "Spacewarp acting up again?"

"How did you know?"

"You called me."

"No I didn't."

"Sure ya did, twenty minutes... Shit, it must be a time warp too. I'll get right on it." Bob opened his tool box and pulled out a quark wrench. "Let's see what it is now... Holy shit, Schroedinger's having a field day!"

The stable door creaked open and in stepped Niels Bohr, wearing a full jockey outfit and sporting a bull whip. Bob looked up, shook his head and went back into his tool box to find a pair of proton priers, and started to work on some multidimensional anomalies. "Niels, want to give me a theoretical hand. These electron clouds look pretty darned odd. So do you, I might add."

Niels Bohr pulled out a theoretical hand and gave it to Bob.

"Thanks." Bob tied it to a neutron cluster and bonded the fingers each to a muon. "That should just about do it..."

A large puff of flame and smoke scorched the paddock, and when the air cleared the Phoenix was sitting on the charred ground. "Oh, great, what am I doing HERE?"

Niels' eyes widened, and with a leap mounted the bird and let out a crack of the whip, causing the Phoenix to bury it's head in the manure.

Bob rolled his eyes. "This is going to be one fuck of a job. What are the probabilities on this?!"

The phoenix pulled its head out of the ground and said, "What kind of sand is this?"

Lawrence snorted impatiently and went back to his stall to call Bob. Bob dug deep into the tool box and recovered a subatomic drill and started to work harder. After pushing around some particles and doing a neutron dance, Bob had found the problem.

"Here it is. Worst case of infinity twisting I've ever seen. Niels, get off your high bird and give me another hand."

Niels jumped down, clapped, and took a closer look. "My god Bob! It makes the Moebius look like a straight edge!"

"Yeah, it's a pretzel all right. Hand me those neutrino clippers, lets see if we can't untangle this a bit... There we go. All it needs now is a little molecular bonding and... Bingo!"

"Nice job, Bob."

The Phoenix disappeared.

"Uh oh, still got a glitch. Lessee, what else... Hey, is that Oort cloud supposed to be that small?"

"Hmm, looks like we've got a shrunk solar system in here."

"Geez Niels, we may have to call in the Top Guns!"

"No... Not...Beepo the suicidal clown?!?"

"Hey, he is a disciple you know. And he only gets real suicidal on MinuteMaid orange juice."

Smokey the Bear fizzled into existence. "Anybody see Yellowstone?"

Niels looked at Bob. "Call him."