SF: Univesal Solvents #23 (2/2)

(continued from part one, preceding...)

-~-_-

Gham fidgeted in her loose plum-colored robes, and tried hard to
look janitorial as three soldier-monks stomped past. Beside her,
Jerriphrrt, also wearing the plum-colored robes that meant that he was
a janitorial monk, pushed a mop in loose circles on the tile floor.
The soldiers gave them a glance, but no followup. She let out her
breath.
"Where's Benjen?" she asked. "He should have been back by now."
"Dunno," Jerriphrrt answered. "It's not like there's a lot of
personnel in here right now."
It had not taken their group long to reach the Daaksvong complex
where Toni had indicated they should go to find Sark Flyby and conduct
generally disruptive activities. The underpopulated current state of
the complex made it easy for them to reach a janitorial alcove and
assume convenient disguises. Benjen had taken the opportunity to log
into a workstation, after hacking past its relatively primitive
firewall, and had quickly determined that the complex was on alert
because a prisoner had escaped, and was low on Soldier Monks because
most were out chasing after him. At the same time, the names of two
other prisoners had caught his eye, and he and the three marines
immediately headed for the cell blocks. Gham and Jerriphrrt had been
left behind to keep an eye out for returning soldiers.
"Do you suppose--" Jerriphrrt started.
"There he is!" Gham interrupted. A set of double doors slid
open, admitting the plum-robed Benjen and the three plum-robed Space
Marines. Her heart fell when she saw no one else was with them. Her
eyebrow raised when she saw that Benjen was carrying what looked like
a wetvac.
"They weren't there," said Benjen. "At least, not by the time we
got there. But we saw what happened on the video playback."
"Then---"
"Slithis and Shadebeam are somewhere else," Benjen confirmed.
"They were in the cell, talking about something or other--"
The Marines started sniggering.
"--and then they started going at it."
"Um," said Jerriphrrt. "Point of clarification. 'Going at it?'"
"Bow-chikka-bow-ow," Benjen replied, his tone deadpan. "Up until
the end, where the light emerged from this..." He held up the wetvac.
"...and they disappeared into it."
"Er," Gham said. "They're not..."
"It's not really a wetvac," Benjen told them. "In fact, it
didn't turn into a wetvac until well after they disappeared. Before
that, it was an ABPSARI--the one Doctor Von Spleen was using when he,
Sajon, Shadebeam, and that TH1K1 robot showed up on Shoon-Ma's ship.
The upshot is... wherever they are now, they're out of this
storyline."
Everyone paused to think of their comrades, stopping only when
they threatened to turn green with envy.
"Why did it take so long to review the video?" Gham asked.
"It didn't," said Benjen. "It took that long to figure out how
to get their DVD burner going." He held up a disc. Jerriphrrt
grinned, and Gham swatted the back of his head.
"We also got schematics for the entire complex," one of the Space
Marines, whose name tag said he was 'Corporal Rhedshart,' added.
"Everything seems centralized on a massive teapot in a central chamber
one floor down."
"Er," said Gham. "Teapot?"
"I just read 'em, ma'am," the marine replied.
"Right," Gham said with a sigh. "Let's go see what we can screw
with."
"Now there's a battle cry I can get behind," said Jerriphrrt.
The trek to the central chamber was, to Gham, surprisingly
uneventful. The complex seemed nearly deserted, and they had only had
to hide once, when a group of Kitchen Monks wheeled a sandwich trolley
past. Soon, they were at an open doorway, where they beheld the inner
workings of the monks' lair.
"Geez," whispered Benjen. "They're putting away the sandwiches,
ain't they?"
Indeed, the monks in the room were tucking into the sandwiches on
the trolley as if they were starving. For all Gham knew, they had
been; they had probably been so focused on the upcoming apocalyptic
prophesied confrontation between Champions that they had forgotten
lunch. She quickly picked out Sark Flyby (as described to her by Toni
Williams) from the group—the grey-skinned gnome's facial resemblance
to Freddie Prinze Jr. was as remarkable as his ability to polish off a
large portion of a ham-on-rye in seconds.
Her eye then went to the one person in the room who was not
momentarily obsessed with food--if only because he was chained to a
mammoth teapot, out of reach of the sandwiches. He was pressing his
fingers against several pieces of dangling cardboard.
"Isn't that Bagelos, the Space Villain?" Jerriphrrt asked.
"The same," Gham said. "I wonder how he got roped into all
this."
"Doesn't look like a willing participant," Benjen observed.
"Right, so what chaos shall we sew?"
"None," a voice from behind them answered.
"I think that's a counterproductive suggestion," said Jerriphrrt.
"What if we just ran in, waved the wetvac around, and yelled
incoherently?"
"We'd shoot you," the voice replied.
"You'd... what?" Gham asked. She looked over her shoulder, and
saw that the three Space Marines who she had thought were behind her,
Jerriphrrt, and Benjen were no longer there. Instead, six Soldier
Monks, each armed with mean-looking laser pistols, were in their
place. The monk that had spoken grinned in an un-monk-like way.
Gham put her hands up and entered the chamber, followed by her
companions. The sandwich-eating monks looked up with no apparent
surprise.
"Ah," said Sark. "There you are. I was wondering when you would
get here."
"You knew we were here?" Jerriphrrt asked.
Sark nodded. "Yes. Sadly, we're a bit short on personnel at the
moment, so we had to wait for you to come to us." He paused. "So,
what do you think of our operation?"
"Aside from the way you wait for both prisoners and sandwiches to
come to you?" Benjen asked. "It's certainly... competent." He looked
around. "What *is* it, anyway?"
"Our captive, here," said Sark, "is re-asserting his control over
the cosmic-power-streaming process. Which will allow us to reassume
control of Zark Flyby. I *assume* that that is something you *don't*
want to disrupt, yes?"
"Actually, yes," said Benjen. Jerriphrrt and Gham gave him
strange looks. "What?" Benjen asked. "Toni said to disrupt whatever
he was---"
"I, Bagelos, believe that I, Bagelos, have located him!" declared
Bagelos, startling everyone present and causing Sark to fumble the
sandwich he was holding. Gham frowned as Bagelos continued to
manipulate the pieces of cardboard that were attached to the machine
that resembled a massive teapot. To judge from the attitude of the
soldier monks, Bagelos was also a prisoner, though he seemed quite
unperturbed by this fact. "Behold!" Bagelos declared. "The video
screen!"
They beheld the video screen. It was having a difficult time
showing a clear picture of Zark Flyby, owing to the amount of bright
light and energy Zark was exuding. There were two people in front of
Zark, one wearing a carrot-based outfit, the other appearing clad in
sticky fruit roll-ups. Gham thought she recognized one of them.
"That's Sajon, right?" Gham asked, indicating the cowering,
carrot-clad man.
"Looks like," Benjen. "And that's Doctor Bing Von Spleen. I was
wondering if we'd see him again. You know Shoon-Ma wanted him to
experiment on me to make his cosmic power pill?"
"You covered that in the briefly summarized exposition two scenes
ago," Jerriphrrt reminded him.
"Oh, yeah."
"Well, villain?" asked Sark. "Can you draw down Zark's power
now?"
"I, Bagelos, cannot," Bagelos admitted. "He has too closely
merged his consciousness with the cosmic energies. Unless something
occurs to jar him from that identification..."
"Hmm," said Jerriphrrt. "Does this mean we can go now?"
"No," Sark answered.
"Aw."

-~-_-

For a world at the center of violent cosmic melodrama, Ronald
Hastings thought, it certainly seemed peaceful. The forest was
immense and not too difficult to traverse, the air slightly crisp
without being too cool. There were a fair number of uprooted trees
lying about, he noted, which indicated that it had not always been
peaceful.
Norman, who was hiking next to him, seemed a little winded by the
trek. He was trying to hide it as best he could, though, helping
Kissy avoid muddy areas and over tree trunks. Kissy, for her part,
rewarded his help with snide comments and imperious indifference,
showing a professionalism Ronald admired.
"This has been some Senior Project, hasn't it?" Ronald asked.
"If I'd known it would be this tough," said Norman, "I'd've built
a diorama of alien foreheads from the various Trek series."
"Again?" Ronald asked.
"It got me a passing grade in Exo-Anthropology 332," Norman
noted. "I just wish... nah, nevermind."
"What?" asked Kissy, who slowed to fall in between them.
"My last heroic charge," said Norman, "didn't end up all that
heroic."
Kissy sighed. "It's hard to be heroic with a veteran around,"
she said, gesturing at Toni Williams, who was leading their group.
"But if it's any consolation, I think the way you charged that
Arachno-Newton was foolhardy, insanely suicidal, and shows you're
either very brave or have severe brain damage. In other words, you're
a natural for being a Space Hero."
"Thanks!" Norman replied, seeming pleased. He considered Toni.
"Hey, Ronald, you ever get a chance to talk to her about... old
times?"
Ronald winced. He had hoped Norman had more sense than to bring
that up.
"Oh, right, the crush," said Kissy. "She said she didn't
remember you when we met her in the Nega-Cell. And you didn't talk
much to her after we escaped to Mydrus."
Ronald shrugged. "No reason she should remember me. We were
kids." He opened his mouth to say something else, something along the
lines of 'now would you shut up on this topic before I do something
extremely unheroic to the both of you with a tree branch.' But before
he could, a blast of brilliant yellow and white energy sheared through
the trees above and all around them.
"Down!" Norman exclaimed, tackling Kissy as severed tree trunks
rained all around them. Ronald tripped over them and rolled on the
mossy ground. Trees thundered down for a few moments more, then
silence returned to the forest.
"What... was that?" one of the Space Marines asked.
"There!" Toni exclaimed. "It came from that clearing!" She
immediately demonstrated her own traits of bravery, foolhardiness, and
possible brain trauma by charging toward said clearing. The Space
Marines followed, after a moment's hesitation and another moment's
well-contained freaking out.
"Get off me, you oaf!" Kissy exclaimed. Norman stood, then
helped Kissy up. Ronald struggled to his feet on his own. Something
seemed to be happening between Norman and Kissy, he thought. The sort
of sparks between a Hero and an Ingenue that were known to endanger
galaxies. Though Ronald had kissed Kissy not too long ago, there had
been no such sparks between them. Perhaps, he thought, because his
mind was on someone else.
Then Norman took a deep breath, puffed up his chest as heroically
as possible, and ran after Toni and the Marines. Ronald ran after
him, determined not to look less heroic than Norman. Kissy ran next
to him, weird little noises escaping her lips. Ronald realized she
was priming her voice for some massive screaming.
Soon, they burst into what could have charitably been called a
clearing. Chunks of tree, ground, and foliage were everywhere. Dust
and dirt were settling. Ronald and Kissy had to come to a sharp stop
to avoid running into Toni, Norman, and the Space Marines.
"What's going on?" Ronald asked, as he peered over Toni's
shoulder.
"Zark!" Toni exclaimed, ignoring and answering Ronald at the same
time. "How are you today?"
To Ronald, it seemed an odd question to ask of the large, cosmic-
power-exuding biped--whom Ronald barely recognized as the Time Police
Commandant who had given him the files on the 'missing' Toni Williams
so many episodes ago--just ten yards away. Confusion gave way to
understanding as he saw Zark's face screw up with intense
concentration as he tried to figure out the right answer.
Before Zark were two guys Ronald remembered from his time on
Freedonia Five--Doctor Bing Von Spleen and Sajon. Like Norman, they
were clad in theoretically edible garments, though Ronald strongly
doubted any appetites in the vicinity were desperate enough to take a
bite. He remembered what Benjen had said about Sajon supposedly being
Shoon-Ma's Chosen One and/or Champion, and how his prophesized
confrontation with Zeta Ricola Beta's Champion and/or Chosen One (aka
Zark) would lead to universe-wide cosmic carnage. Sajon was hardly
looking cosmic at the moment, though. Perhaps the situation could yet
be salvaged.
"Von Spleen," said Toni. "And you, other guy. Get over here
while he's trying to---"
"I AM HAVING A VIOLENT DAY," Zark said. He seemed pleased with
his answer. "I AWAIT SHOON-MA'S CHOSEN ONE, SO THAT I CAN BE VIOLENT
AT HIM."
"Speaking of floaty things," muttered Sajon, "where did TH1K1
go?"
Ronald decided that, if he was going to save the universe and get
an A on his Senior Project, he would have to tap his Inner Kirk and
step up.
"That's a logical inconsistency, Zark!" he declared. "You can't
be having a violent day if you're waiting to be violent!"
"Yeah!" Norman added. "So you have to self-destruct now!"
Toni groaned. But Zark seemed to be seriously considering their
words.
"KILL," said Zark. His eyes flashed, and the ground in front of
them erupted. Ronald went flying back into the woods. Kissy
screamed, causing everyone, including Zark, to wince.
"You can't kill!" Sajon insisted. "I'm not Shoon-Ma's Champion
yet, and I won't be until I consume Doctor Von Spleen's pink pill,
which is now permanently and forever lost in the forest!"
"Hello!" a new voice called. "I think I found it."
A four-foot tall buglike biped with feelers, tentacles, antennae,
and a well-polished harmonica emerged from the undergrowth, carrying a
pink pill with one of phis feelers. Sajon appeared flummoxed. Von
Spleen was dumbfounded. Kissy screamed. Toni slapped her forehead.
"Quooth," said Von Spleen, identifying the alien Wzaxtil. Ronald
remembered phim also from Freedonia 5. "What the hell are you---"
"I escaped Daaksvong to find you," Quooth interrupted, phis
tentacles quivering. "I received a warning from friends Shadebeam and
Slithis, just before they left this altiverse. You, friend Sajon,
must not consume this pill! It is the only way to prevent universal
apocalypse!"
"Well, then," said Toni, as she essayed a few steps closer.
Ronald remembered reading that she had psi powers, and wondered if she
was planning to use them--though she had gotten along very well
without them while battling the Arachno-Newtons. "Thank goodness you
found it so that he could be tempted."
"You're welcome, friend Toni!" replied Quooth, master of not
perceiving sarcasm. "Here you are, friend Sajon!" Phe placed the
pill in Sajon's unresisting hand. "I am so glad I arrived in time to
give you this warning!"
"Well... then," said Sajon, eyeing the pill with trepidation. He
then looked at Zark, then at Von Spleen, then at the forest beyond.
The fact that so little of the forest was visible in the crowd
surrounding Sajon, and so much of Zark was all but in his face, seemed
to Ronald to be weighing heavily on him.
"Sajon..." said Von Spleen. "My apprentice. My assistant.
My... friend..."
"No way, Doc," said Sajon. "I'd rather... whumff!"
For such a scrawny, clean-complexioned guy, Ronald thought, Von
Spleen could *move.* Von Spleen's swung his hand in such a way that
it caught the back of Sajon's hand, causing the pill that had been in
the palm of said hand to fly directly toward Sajon's mouth. There had
been stories... nay, legends... of Von Spleen's prowess at the
drinking game of quarters, but as the pill shot into Sajon's mouth,
Ronald had to admit there was something to his ability to bank a shot
just right.
Space warped. Space shook. Space did the lambada, which was
forbidden. Ronald felt his insides go jelly-like for a second before
solidity returned. Before anyone could comment, Von Spleen followed
up his slap with a punch to Sajon's gut.
The pill flew out, glistening with Sajon's saliva. Von Spleen
reached for where it would be--
--and closed his fingers on empty air, as the pill deflected off
of Ronald's fingertips.
"Needlewarp!" both Von Spleen and Ronald exclaimed.
"I've got it!" Toni yelled, only to miss as Sajon lunged after
the pill and deflected it off of his fingertips. Quooth tried to
catch it with his feelers, succeeding in only knocking it aside--
"KI--" Zark started to bellow, only to gag a bit as the pill flew
directly into his mouth. Everyone watched, aghast, as Zark swallowed
it.
A hush fell over the forest.
The angry glow that had been rising from Zark grew more intense,
and was soon joined by odd bolts of lighting and a massive rumbling
from deep within Zark that, Ronald guessed, was not merely a cosmic
burrito on its way to backfiring.
*KILL.*
The word rang in their minds, while Zark's grin grew broader and
more portentous.
"Well," said Von Spleen, "that's the last time I try *that.*"

WILL VON SPLEEN TRY *THAT* AGAIN?
WHAT DID HE HOPE TO ACCOMPLISH WITH *THAT*, ANYWAY?
WILL JERRIPHRRT AND HIS TEAM FIND A WAY TO INTERVENE?
WILL THEY GET TASTY SANDWICHES?
WILL SHOON-MA GET HIS REVENGE?
WILL LUCKY GET CATNIP?
WHAT'S GOING ON WITH THE _CHALLENGER III,_ ANYWAY?

Find out, we hope, in the next plausibility-rupturing episode of
Universal Solvents, a SFSTORY production on the SUPERGUY mailing list.

Why won't they look?
--
Copyright (c) 2011 Gary W. Olson, All Rights Reserved.
--
Gary W. Olson swede at garywolson dot com
Sfstory Archives: http://sfstory.garywolson.com/
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SG/SF Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/group.php?gid=47273370926

SF: Universal Solvents #23 (1/2)

UNIVERSAL SOLVENTS
(a Tale of Sfstory!)
Episode 23
"Plum"
by
Gary W. Olson

-~-_-

Death had finally come for him, Norman Sassafras realized.
Unlike many of his young peers, he had for quite some time understood
that he was mortal, and that one day he would go the way of all mortal
things. One could not watch Star Trek as much as he had, and hear
Doctor McCoy say 'He's dead, Jim' for as many times as he had, without
this sliding deep into the furrows of his consciousness. It was one
of the immutable truths of the universe, as far as he was concerned--
sooner or later, no matter one's rank in life, one eventually had to
put on the red shirt.
What his many years of watching Trek and its sequels had not
prepared him for, though, was the truth that one might come to welcome
death--to regard the velour of security with relief. As the Arachno-
Newton closest to him continued belting out the words to 'Danke
Schoen,' the fear Norman felt at the sight of its razorblade legs was
swiftly eclipsed by the gagging sensation brought on by the cloying
sappiness of the song.
Norman's ankle slid out from under him in the soft grass, and
that was all that saved him. A massive blade breezed over him as he
fell. What reflexes his heroic training from Interstellar University
had instilled in him kept him from landing flat on his back--he caught
his descent with his hands, scrambled back, and quickly got to his
feet. Another blade slash cut into the red beets that made up his
garment, though the tip did no more than graze the skin of his
stomach.
The others who were in the clearing with him fared no better.
Kalvin Certain--the now-former casino manager and currently clad-in-
bacon cad whose machinations had more-or-less resulted in Norman's
current predicament--scrambled to avoid being scrambled by another
Arachno-Newton's blades. Benjen--a onetime Renegade Anarchist whom
Norman had met years ago and had, as a result of different
machinations, been brought here to planet Zeta Ricola Beta and
outfitted in lettuce--was trying to fly above the battle, only to
discover that the aural assault of the Arachno-Newtons was interfering
with his bioelectrical field. Shoon-Ma--the powerful ur-Bagel whose
desire for revenge was one of the prime drivers of the current drama--
had no such problems, and equally no problem with hanging back and
avoiding the battle.
"Any last requests?" asked the Arachno-Newton trying to kill him.
"'I'll Be With You in Apple Blossom Time,' maybe? Or shall I cover a
song by my good pal Neil Diamond?"
"Gurk," Norman replied, as he dodged another blade.
"'Heartlight' it is," said the Arachno-Newton, sounding
delighted. Immediately, all three of the Wayne Newton-emulating
killer robo-arachnoids started emitting the syrupy orchestral music
that was the start of the song. Norman started seriously considering
leaping toward the slashing blades.
Before he could do so, the Arachno-Newton's face exploded.
"Yaaah!" exclaimed Norman, as he stumbled back. A massive form
slammed into the Arachno-Newton, toppling it to the ground. Norman
was alarmed to see that it was a six-foot-tall-at-the-shoulder black-
furred mutant cat, and was further alarmed to see the cat sit on the
remains of the robot, raise its leg, and start in on a dignity-free
round of self-grooming. A flying metal skiff swooped low over
Norman's head, and Norman saw multiple other figures--these all more
bipedish--jump out.
"Down!" a woman's voice ordered, and Norman hit the forest floor
again. Further laser blasts echoed above and around him, and Norman
realized he knew who had given the order. He looked up and saw Toni
Williams, just as she plunged her laser sword into the neck of the
Arachno-Newton that had been threatening to slice Kalvin Certain into
kibble.
"Norman!" a man's voice called, and Norman realized he knew who
owned this voice as well. Forgetting Toni's order, he sprang to his
feet and looked around.
"Ronald!" he called, as he saw his best friend and fellow Star
Trek fanatic running towards him. With Ronald were two heavily armed
human Space Marines who were waving their guns around as if daring
more killer robots to come out of the undergrowth.
Before the reunion could take place, the air was split by an ear-
rending shrill scream. Norman clutched his ears, even as he
recognized this hearing-damaging noise as well. Sure enough, he saw
Kissy Hitowers a moment later. She had somehow gotten between the
last remaining Arachno-Newton and Benjen, in such a way that it kept
Benjen's attempted rescuers--Jerriphrrt and Gham, two more former
Renegade Anarchists--from having a clean shot at the machine while
simultaneously blocking Benjen's escape path. There was no doubt
about it, he realized with pride--Ronald and he had chosen a Space
Ingenue who knew her stuff.
Norman knew it was time to do something heroic. It was his and
Ron's senior Space Heroing project that had led to their hiring Kissy
to be their Ingenue, and she had set them up so that the only way they
could save her from a messy death would be to do something so unlikely
to succeed that the odds were massively against it. With that in
mind, Norman picked up the severed blade-leg of the Arachno-Newton
that had threatened him, hoisted it over his head, let out his most
heroic bellow, and ran at the robot threatening Kissy.
Both the Arachno-Newton and Kissy stopped emitting their
competing noises, regarding him with what Norman felt sure was
amazement at his heroic recklessness. The Newton recovered first,
raising two of its bladed legs into a position that Norman belatedly
realized would both parry his blade and relieve him of his aching feet
by removing everything below his knees.
This failed to happen, if only because the blade of a laser sword
emerged from the mouth of the Arachno-Newton. The machine sparked and
hissed, then collapsed. Toni Williams, who was now standing behind
it, withdrew her sword.
Norman swung his blade down at the Newton anyway, if only because
his momentum had decided that action for him. It clanged against the
Newton's metallic hair-helmet, left Norman's hands and went flying.
"Hey!" Benjen exclaimed, as the blade embedded itself in a tree
trunk, just inches above his head. He considered the blade, gulped,
and said 'hey' again, just in case he had not been clear before.
Norman stumbled to a halt. He breathed hard, then looked up at
Toni.
"I would've got him," said Norman.
"I know," Toni replied. He searched her eyes and expression for
signs of derision, but she seemed utterly sincere. She even seemed
unfazed by the fact that he was clad in beets. He heard footsteps to
his left, then felt a hand on his back.
"Norman, you okay?" Ronald asked. "That was great--kind of like
Kirk in 'Amok Time,' you know?"
Norman straightened, and beamed at his friend's compliment. His
reply was cut short by a snort from Kissy.
"My heroic rescuers," she said. "Thanks for reminding me to fill
out my organ donor card. Another rescue like that and it'll see some
use."
"Look, Little Miss Hearing Loss," said Toni, "we were doing
*fine* until you got into a mess. Why don't you walk your little pert
behind over to the skiff where you'll be safe?"
"Er, Toni," said Ronald. "She's *our* Ingenue."
Toni looked at Kissy, who shrugged and nodded. "Right," she
said. "Sorry. Instinct. Go on."
Norman wondered how often such an Ingenue-poaching situation came
up in the annals of Space Heroics, and how it got resolved. He soon
found out, as Kissy wheeled on him and Ronald.
"My 'pert little behind,'" Kissy went on, as if it had been
Ronald or Norman she was quoting, "is the only reason you even had a
shot at that thing. If it wasn't for me, you'd have been run
through!"
"Um," said Norman. Suddenly, the pressure was on. He thought,
frantically, trying to come up with a suitable heroic response.
"That's because our behinds aren't pert!" Ronald declared.
Kissy's brow furrowed. Ronald elbowed Norman, and Norman
realized he was trying to prod a followup heroic zinger out of him.
"Yeah!" Norman said. "They're... um... they're Pert Plus!"
Toni winced. Kissy looked as if her retort had gotten caught at
the 'make sense of the Space Hero's statement' stage of her train of
thought. Norman wondered if he should find a bush to hide under.
"Hey!" someone yelled. Norman realized it was Jerriphrrt.
"Kalvin's getting away!"
Norman looked past Toni and Kissy in time to see a bacon-wearing
figure dashing madly into a very foliage-clogged area of forest. He
was followed closely by the massive mutant black cat Norman had seen
earlier.
"What happened?" Toni demanded, sounding simultaneously angry
that her quarry was escaping and relieved that she did not have to
witness more of a train wreck of a heroic repartee session.
"There was a bagel floating up in the trees," said Gham. "Kalvin
saw it and was off before we could stop him."
"It was Shoon-Ma the ur-Bagel," Benjen added. "He's---"
"Lucky!" Toni called into the forest. "Get back here!" She
waited, then sighed. "Stupid cat. Wasn't supposed to even be on the
skiff. Hope Captain Vogel wasn't too attached to him. Kalvin
Certain's not important right now... stopping universal apocalypse
is."
"What's been going on?" Norman asked. "You have more marines
with you?"
At this point, a large wad of exposition occurred. Toni started
it off, explaining as succinctly as possible how she came to be on
Zeta Ricola Beta, investigating the prophecies concerning it, Shoon-
Ma, and the Breaking of the Fast at the Dawn of the Universe.
Jerriphrrt, Gham, and Benjen added details about how they had been
minding their own business, salvaging derelict spaceships and such,
and had gotten drawn into the mess by boarding the wrong ship at the
wrong time. Ronald, Norman, and Kissy explained how Ronald and
Norman's Senior Space Heroics Project had gotten them crossed with
Kalvin Certain's henchmen and thus to Zeta Ricola Beta. The six space
marines told moving stories about their Facebook settings that had
nothing to do with the adventure at hand. Somehow, between them all,
they managed to summarize large parts of Universal Solvents #1-22 in
under six minutes, something the Author has never managed to do, which
is why he is Telling and not Showing in this paragraph. At the end of
the exposition, Norman thought of a pertinent question.
"What now?" he asked.
"Now," said Toni, "we've got to split up. If, as I suspect, Zark
Flyby has been maneuvered into being Zeta Ricola Beta's Champion
and/or Chosen One, we have to find him and take him down, assuming he
hasn't already come into his power. I'll head that team. Ron,
Norman, Kissy, you're with me." She gestured at three of the six
marines. "You three as well."
"And the rest of us?" Gham asked.
"Stay with the original mission," said Toni. "Get to the
Daaksvong complex. It won't be far from here. Find Sark Flyby--he's
Zark's father, and the guy pulling his strings. Disrupt whatever he's
doing."
"We'll try," Jerriphrrt promised. "Um... do we get marines,
too?"
"Yes," said Toni. "The other three."
"And waffles?" Benjen asked. The others glared at him. "What?"
he added. "I missed breakfast."
"Fix your lettuce," Jerriphrrt suggested. Benjen looked down,
saw what the lettuce was not covering, and slapped his forehead.
Norman, Ronald, Kissy, and the remaining marines watched as
Jerriphrrt, Gham, Benjen, and three Space Marines slipped into the
forest, with all the stealth that comes naturally to ex-Renegade
Anarchists and Space Marines. Once the torrent of disturbed birds,
squirrels, and other small animals subsided, Toni shook her head.
Norman thought of another question.
"How are we going to find Zark?"
Toni and Ronald winced. A second later, a large portion of the
forest in the opposite direction from which the others had gone
erupted. They gaped as massive trees flew overhead.
"Right," said Norman. He checked again to be sure his beet-suit
was still mostly intact, then followed the others into the woods.

-~-_-

It was not a good day for running away from cosmically violent
maniacs, Dr. Bing Von Spleen decided. For one thing, the weather was
awful, in that it was raining trees. For another, he was sober, and
thus had no chemically-induced delusions regarding his chances for
survival to give him the maniacal disregard for probability that
sometimes allowed him *to* survive certain death. For a third, he was
wearing--thanks to the ABPSARI that had brought him to Zeta Ricola
Beta--a suit made of fruit roll-ups, which were by now very sticky in
unpleasant places. For a fourth, instead of having with him a
competent Space Hero such as 357, who might reliably think of a way to
take on the cosmic menace, he was with his carrot-tutu-wearing ex-
assistant Sajon, who was, just as reliably, way out of his depth.
The aforementioned cosmic menace, Zark Flyby, growled 'KILL!'
again, then let loose another blast of power. It sheared through the
air above him, blasting away more of the forest's trees. Von Spleen
knew that Zark, while generally ultrastupid, was extremely competent
in his chosen specialty, which was violence and mayhem, and that any
deficiency in areas such as 'aiming' would be--as they always were
with Zark--compensated for by 'overkill.'
"We should split up, Doc!" yelled Sajon, who was a bit behind
him. "He can only get one of us that way!"
Von Spleen had already thought of that, but had not suggested it,
as he had not come up with a way to guarantee that the one being 'got'
would not be him. Instead, he tried another gambit, one only someone
unable to outwit an anvil might fall for.
"Wallaby!" he yelled, pointing to his left.
A long moment passed, then the air was rent with the sizzling
sound of another power blast. Trees well to Von Spleen's left
exploded into splinters and chunks.
"KILL!" yelled Zark, who was veering left. Von Spleen dared to
hope he would escape--
"No, over here!" called a high-pitched voice. "They're right
here, Zark!"
Von Spleen looked up and snarled. The tiny robot TH1K1 flew
overhead, staying close with Von Spleen. Von Spleen knew what he had
heard had not actually been English; rather, it was a high-pitched
burst of beeps and squiggles, translated by some drug-mutated part of
his brain. He also knew why TH1K1 was doing this--he was a would-be
homicidal maniac who saw in Zark an opportunity to actually succeed
in causing death and mayhem for once.
"Wretched robot!" Von Spleen yelled. "I'll get you yet!"
Another blast hit trees nearby, as Zark corrected course and came
after them again. This time, a tree trunk slammed down right in front
of Von Spleen and Sajon, barely missing crushing them. Unfortunately,
Von Spleen and Sajon could not barely miss running into it at full
speed.
"Whunf!" said the tree trunk.
"Splat," said their bodies, as they fell back into the dirt.
"Ow," said Von Spleen, as he struggled to his feet.
"KILL!" roared Zark.
"Not yet!" exclaimed Von Spleen, as he attempted to cover most of
his body with his arms while simultaneously hiding behind Sajon.
Sajon, for his part, was trying to remove the carrots that formed the
collar of his unusual outfit from his face.
Von Spleen waited for the end.
And waited.
And waited.
"WHY NOT?"
Von Spleen opened his eyes and looked up at Zark Flyby.
Incredibly menacing and promising of violence in ordinary times, Zark
had grown even more dangerous-looking in these cosmic times. Heat and
light shimmered from his skin like smoke, obscuring most of his
sizeable body--just as well, as Zark's clothing had been vaporized a
long time ago, and Von Spleen had little wish for his last mortal
sight to be of Zark au natural.
"Um... because!" said Von Spleen. His mind raced. Zark was
ultrastupid, and thus easily fooled, but there was a danger. Anything
he tried that seemed like trying to dissuade Zark from violence would
not work, because violence was Zark's first--and usually only--
solution to most situations he encountered. How he had become Time
Police Academy Commandant was beyond Von Spleen, although he imagined
it was to keep Zark away from positions where he might do even more
damage--i.e. anywhere else. On the other hand, any suggestion that
encouraged violence would not work, because even if it was directed at
anything other than Von Spleen, the power at Zark's fingertips would
likely do considerable damage just from proximity.
"Because of the prophecy!" Sajon declared. The lad, Von Spleen
observed, had gotten to his feet, and amazingly had spoken to Zark as
if the man could not obliterate them at any second.
"PROPHECY?" Zark asked. He was not shouting; Von Spleen assumed
it was cosmic power that caused him to talk in all capitals.
"Right," said Sajon. "You're with the Time Police, so you know
all about prophecy and stuff, right? How you can't go against it, and
have to do whatever it says?"
"UM..." Zark started.
"And the prophecy from this world says you have to face off
against Shoon-Ma's Champion," Sajon went on. "Only once you defeat
him can you go on to... I dunno... blow up the universe and stuff."
Zark broadly smiled. Von Spleen guessed it was the thought of
blowing up the universe that made him so happy.
"SO WHO IS THE CHAMPION?" Zark asked.
"Someone who lives fa--" started Von Spleen.
"I am!" Sajon declared.
Von Spleen wondered if Zark's ultrastupidity was rubbing off.
Certainly Sajon had to be wondering that, as Zark's eyes narrowed, and
his power rose.
"But only after I *get* that power," Sajon went on. "I don't
have it yet. Until I do, you can't go blowing stuff up or killing
anybody. Says so in the prophecy. Right, Doctor?"
"Er, right," said Von Spleen. He wondered what Sajon was playing
at.
"Which is why Doctor Von Spleen is going to hand over that pill
now," said Sajon. He held out his hand in Von Spleen's direction.
Von Spleen regarded it as if it were the hand of a bill collector or a
D.E.A. agent.
"What pill?" Von Spleen asked.
"GIVE," Zark ordered. His eyes flared with raw power.
"Eepyesssir!" Von Spleen replied, producing the Altoids box that
he had earlier stowed the pink pill in. He popped it open and
deposited the pill into Sajon's hand.
It was the pinnacle of Von Spleen's spamological know-how; a
shell containing a small quantity of Spam engineered by Von Spleen to
remove all barriers between a sentient being and the primordial Spam
that was the ur-substance of the universe. It had been further
engineered so that only contact with Sajon's saliva could unlock the
pill's cosmic-power-bestowing properties; a safeguard Shoon-Ma had
forced him to include so that, if Von Spleen's ABPSARI-enforced
sobriety wore off, he could not just take the pill and the power
himself. He had earlier tried to get Sajon to take it, knowing
exactly what his next move would be. It was still possible now,
though having an uberviolent ultracosmic idiot standing just feet away
itching for a fight made the move he was contemplating much harder.
But running away, his favorite other option, was not feasible.
So, Von Spleen thought, the hell with it. He waited for Sajon to lift
the pill to his lips...
...then cried out, as Sajon threw the pill into the forest with
all his strength.

(continued in part two, following...)
--
Copyright (c) 2011 Gary W. Olson, All Rights Reserved.
--
Gary W. Olson swede at garywolson dot com
Sfstory Archives: http://sfstory.garywolson.com/
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SG/SF Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/group.php?gid=47273370926

SG: WCD #51 "Victory and Defeat"

[Nikon Ninja's Journal]
Okay, if I am going to earn any money on this trip I better start
writing. I promised old KKK back at the newspaper some "man on the
scene" reports and some exclusive interviews. How was I to know I'd
have a front row seat to our mission's failure? Maybe it's too late
for me to write anything. I wonder if will we be shipped off to some
desert mining prison colony, or will they space us, or will we be on
the Nintan's next buffet menu? Rumors have been flying around the
ship like crazy in the last 15 minutes since Commander Tonk, sounding
more sober than I have ever heard her, announced that a full-dress
honor guard was to assemble in the main hangar bay to receive the
Nintan Delegation to discuss the terms of surrender. I have to hurry
up and get cleaned up for the event. I've been ordered to attend,
both since I'm a reporter and this is a historic moment, and well, I'm
a member of a Super Group, the West Coast Defenders, and if there is
any hope of turning this event into a victory for mankind, it's going
to be up to us. I just wish British Airwave could be there.

WCD #51 "Victory and Defeat"
Starring Spectrum and the West Coast Defenders, Aurora, and the Crew
of the Lenny Bruce
Co-Authored by Chris Angelini and Lawrence Brown, aka Frobozz and Amigoid

The Doctor stepped out into the hallway a few yards from where an
anxious group of heroes stood waiting by the med lab entrance. He
glanced at them for a moment, snorted in consternation, and popped a
jelly baby into his mouth. At the sound, Foxy's ears twitched and she
glanced in his direction. Tipping his hat, he softly muttered,
"Congratulations." He twisted a small device in his hands and a door
opened in front of him, which then closed and disappeared from
existence as he strode through.

"Spectrum?" She was about to ask about the scarf-wearing strange man
who was suddenly no longer there, when doctor Dick van Sloan strode
out of the medical bay, drawing all eyes in the waiting room towards
him.
Sloan glanced wearily around at the West Coast Defenders, eyes
pausing on Spectrum with some unspoken curiosity, before finally
drawing breath to speak.

"I'm sorry. Events have caused Randall to suffer a serious heart
attack. We fought for an hour to stabilize him, and like with all
battles that've gone on lately, we came up too damned short. He's
currently on life support; but he's holding on. That man is a fighter
if ever I've seen one."

"When can we ssspeak with him?" TDSM hissed.

"I'm truly sorry," began Sloan, somehow meeting the Spider's many
glaring eyes. "I'd have to say that will have to wait until we get
home. *If* we make it back home. Based on ship scuttlebutt, our
chances are worse than his." He sighed in frustration. "We've done
what we can with the resources we have left on board. Until we get
back to earth, where there are medical bays that weren't lasered all
to Hell(tm), he won't be off of life support and we can't bring him
around. He'll be safe for now... well, as safe as any of us are,
considering."

Sloan returned his attention to Spectrum. "I know that you've been
through a lot in a very short time; you all have. But when you're
feeling able, please come back to see me. You and I have to have a
discussion about an important issue. A private discussion."

The doctor turned and walked back into the overcrowded medical bay.
Puzzled by his last words, Spectrum glanced after him before shrugging
and leading the others down the corridors. As they neared the hangar,
they were joined by Parker Peterson, the Nikon Ninja. His clothes and
sword looked freshly cleaned, and he carried a small handheld recorder
along with his signature camera slung around his neck. Parker gave
the team the high sign and fell in step. He gestured with the
recorder, "Tonk authorized it. It's a historic moment, so someone
needs to record things on the scene."

"Maybe you'll get a Pulitzer," Spectrum sighed. "Just try not to
cause any new problems. If a fight breaks out, it might cost the
whole crew's lives. We'll let Tonk take the lead, and speak when
spoken to. Foxy, do what you can to clamp things down."

"I'll try…" She responded softly, not wanting to dwell on her
empathy abilities more than she needed to.

The team entered the hangar bay, which had been cleared of almost
every item possible, aside from the Nikon Ninja's huge rabbit Dord.
It was parked in the corner, looking almost like a small baby bunny
doing the 'If I stay still, nobody will notice me…' routine which was
of course impossible for a construct the size of a minivan.

The only other construct of any significance, was the Nintan
shuttle, landed near the external doors to the hangar. Its alien
presence cast an air of exotic menace over the docking bay, an
atmosphere punctuated by the almost too familiar sound of metal-clad
footsteps marching in unison behind the team. Spectrum tore his gaze
away from the strangely crafted shuttle to face Commander Tonk, who
brought up Clark's detail of armoured troopers.

Spectrum traded salutes with the commanding officer while the
soldiers took up honor guard positions, crisply assuming a parade rest
stance. He nodded to his team, and they assumed a semblance of the
same stance. Nikon Ninja coughed softly to get Spectrum's attention,
drawing the man's attention to his recorder. Spectrum gave the barest
of nods and whispered "Just stay back.". He then turned to take a
position opposite Clark, flanking Tonk, who gestured forward with
hands that shook, for once, not with the D.T.s.

As the trio approached the transport, its gangway hissed open and a
wave of tropical air wafted out from within. A moment later, three
serpentine Nintan followed it out, slithering down the ramp to form up
their own, opposing triad. One snake appeared to be the head warrior
or perhaps the security chief, as he was bristling with weapons.
Bristling also seemed to describe the Nintan's feelings about the
negotiations ceremony, his tongue flicking in and out as his eyes
darted around the room, sizing up the possibility of threat. Another
snake, pale and thin, seemed more interested in the readings of
various displays on what was most likely some sort of scanner. The
presumed leader, a more weathered-seeming serpent than the
security-minded Nintan, carried with him an air of lethality that was
far more intimidating than any of the three, despite having no
apparent weapons. He carried an egg, a simple egg about the size of a
grapefruit, with the solemn decorum that a ruler might hold a scepter.

"I am Commander Tonk, Captain of the CSS Lenny Bruce," began Tonk,
hoping that nobody else heard her voice crack when she began. "This is
John Clark, commander of my assault team. And this is Spectrum, leader
of the West Coast Defenders. We come from--"

"WE ARE AWARE OF YOUR ORIGINS, EARTHER!" The battle-snake hissed
with barely contained rage. "Do not prolong this suffering with talk!
Lost, many warriors to you have been!" The hissing of the angry
snake synchronized with the disjointed English translation that was
being broadcast from the device the pale snake carried. Its
positional audio made the words seem to come from the right snake,
rather than from the device itself.

The snake took a breath to continue his tirade, when the leader
raised one clawed hand from holding the egg, with a gesture that
universally could be interpreted as "STFU". Smoothly taking control of
the situation, he regarded the Captain. Tonk mentally shivered,
wondering how a trapped rat might feel before the cobra struck.
Snakes. Why did it always have to be snakes? Especially while she was
stone cold sober?
"Prepared, you are, to hear our terms?"

Tonk nodded. "I am. Without either accepting or refusing, ah...
respectfully I listen."

She hoped that what intel her team had scraped up regarding protocol
was correct, and was rewarded with a startled twitch of recognition by
the serpent trio hearing a familiar formula.

Good, she thought. We're not going to die immediately.

The warrior snake cocked his weapon and its power systems whined.
Clark prayed to all the gods who would listen that his men would
remember themselves and stay at ease. TDSM hissed, but immediately
shut up when Spectrum shot him a withering glance, eyes pulsing with
energy.

The leader of the Nintan regarded Spectrum, and then returned his
gaze to Tonk. "Very well. In honor we complete this." He handed
Tonk the egg that, to her practiced eye, would make one Hell(tm) of a
Prarie Oyster. It felt warm and and unpleasantly alive to the touch.
Hiding her revulsion, Tonk examined it cautiously, while trying to
recall the words that went along with this gesture. "I accept this as
your bond and responsibility I claim." Tonk paused, choosing her
words carefully, as her briefing had gone no further, leaving her to
guess at the correct way to proceed. "We apologize that we do not know
what is appropriate to offer in return, and intend no dishonor or
disrespect. The, uhm, the failure is ours. What are your intentions
at this juncture?"

The snake leader paused, as if unsure how to continue. "By this we
are confused. But for the glory of the Nintan Empire, we take the
difficult way of mystery, and... " He drew himself up to full height,
clothing himself in a strangely humble dignity. "We surrender."

The silence was deafening. Tonk glanced at Clark. Clark shot
Spectrum a sudden look, as if to ask 'did you hear that too?'

Speaking for everyone assembled on deck, Foxy blurted out, "Say what?!?"

The pale snake spoke. "We are the Nintan. We are not hatchlings
wiggling in new skins. Powerful you are. While we may yet triumph,
many questions unanswered would be. Destroyed our ships and outposts
might be, and our homeworld would proceed in darkness with nothing
gained."

The warrior snake set his weapon down on the ground in front of
Clark, barrel pointed back at the snake. The soldier serpent drew
back, his eyes flashing with anger and... sorrow? "Why did you dare
attack us? Unwarranted this was!"

Clark glanced at Tonk, who gave him a nod. Great, he thought. How do
I explain this one?

"Enemy ships and combatants identifying themselves as part of an
invading Nintan army attacked our planet, and our ship." He began.
"The intel we gained from captured sn--ah, the Nintan, revealed an
armada was forming here in this area. We were sent here to stop the
invasion, out of self-defense."

The lead snake muttered something that was not picked up by the
translator, but somehow Tonk knew it translated to the desire for a
stiff drink. "This humble outpost is hardly the place of a strike
force. As I suspected, somehow your race and ours has been misled by
another party." The snake slithered calmly around Spectrum, and slowly
passed by the rest of the West Coast Defenders. "It is because of
such as these that your planet was classified as a quarantined region
of space by most intelligent forms of life." He spoke the words
without malice, as calmly as a doctor would in discussing a minor skin
infection. "While the Nintan race collectively has the power to
annihilate your entire system, it was decided long ago the best choice
was to leave your race to their own ends, at least until you either
molted and matured, destroyed yourselves, or through your interstellar
expansion became a threat to our Empire."

Spectrum opened his mouth to speak, and then closed it.

The lead snake cocked his head. "Something to say, you have?"

Spectrum replied, "Sir, it is not my place to speak. Captain Tonk, I
request permission."

"Oh what the Hell(tm) ever," growled Tonk. "I think we're about
three left turns too far into Wackyland to stand on ceremony anymore."

Spectrum retracted the gauntlet from his right hand, and extended
his hand towards the leader. "My name is Lawrence Brown, and I am a
superguy. I lead the team known as the West Coast Defenders, and my
team encountered the first cluster of disguised terrorists claiming to
be Nintan. May I know your name?"

The leader regarded Spectrum's hand, and then extended his own. "An
Earth handshake of greeting this is? Very well, I exchange my name in
greeting too. You may call me Cheese Fondue…" he whipped his head
toward the thin snake, which slapped the translation device, "Pardon.
My name is hard to translate. You may refer to me as Adelind, my
counselor of war is Ormarr, and my science counselor shall be
addressed as Bindy." He took Spectrum's hand firmly and gave it an
experimental shake before releasing it.

Spectrum nodded, and gravely regarded the trio. "Adelind, I agree
that there must be a misunderstanding. For my part, I hope that we
can straighten things out so that you no longer regard us as a threat
to your race."

Ormarr hissed, "So speaks walking-death-star. Much you must answer for!"

Clark unshouldered his rifle, and in the same fashion as Ormarr had,
placed his rifle on the ground in front of Ormarr. "Answers are what
we are here for."

Tonk regarded the egg he was holding. "So, this is one of your
eggs? Its alive?"

Adelind replied, "Yes. This is a helpless one that has yet to be
hatched. A symbol of our earnest intent to make hostilities stop, and
trust that placing ourselves in your hands you will treat this as a
precious action."

Tonk's face quirked into an almost rictus smile at the thought of
ordering Sparks to hatch the egg, but practicality -- and a desire to
let go of the rejected prop from an alien movie -- won out over
gallows humour, "Would I be offending you if I thanked you for the
gift, and then returned it to you for you to care for it? I would
hate to drop it and cause an interstellar war."

Bindy reached for the egg. "As you are not rejecting the token, but
showing respect for the life within, you cause no offense.
Traditionally, eggs would be exchanged, and the hatchlings would be
raised by the disputing parties as a gesture of intent for unity and
peace. "

Tonk grinned as a thought came to her. "Perhaps we can adapt this
custom for this circumstance. We accept your word that those who
attacked us were not Nintan. Understand then that we seek to find out
who would want us at war."

"May we speak to the Nintan whom you have captured?" inquired
Adelind, seeming to respond to a silent request from his advisor. "We
would like to know why they turned traitor and bent you towards our
destruction."

"I'm afraid the captives are all dead," began Clark, who nearly
slapped gauntlet to forehead as he realized what he had just
implied...

"You *murdered* your prisoners of war?" bellowed Ormarr, his scales
bunching together as he reared towards Clark. "You savage monkey-mice!
You deserve nothing more than to be cleaned from the skies by--"

"Patience," hissed Adelind, who seemed no less angered than Ormarr.
He turned to Clark. "Speak clearly. Now. Why did they die?"

"It wasn't by our hands," replied Clark, feeling a gnawing sensation
in his stomach that he could only identify as the return of 'fear of
imminent death'. "They destroyed themselves whenever we tried to take
them alive."
While he suspected that it wasn't possible for the three snakes to
turn pale, somehow Clark knew that were they human, the trio would
have done just that.

"Destroyed themselves?" whispered Ormarr, clearly shaken to the
core. "Destroyed themselves? Deliberately... they deliberately took
their own lives?"

"No," hissed Adelind. "No, none of our race could have fallen so far
as to throw away the gift of life, not by their own hand. Surely they
provoked you? Please. Please speak the truth. Tell us that they
spurned you into killing them, and take back this nightmare you have
woven. We will not fault you for it..."

"I wish that I could," replied Clark, mustering all his will to keep
from glancing down and away from the all-too recognizable anguish and
horror written across otherwise alien faces. "But our way is to
capture when we can and to kill only when needed."

"Some... sort of atavism?" Bindy asked of the other two. "Perhaps
they were abducted by the third party and broken, somehow...?"

"I will hold to the hope of such a thing," replied Ormarr, his
scales bunching once more. "Even as such a crime must be answered..."

"EXCREMENT!" Bindy suddenly shouted, thrusting the egg to a
startled Ormarr. "This must wait... hostile warship appearing from
unseen light!" She turned all of her attention to her handheld
device. "It is non-Terran, non-Nintan…"

The ships alarms sounded. Tonk punched her commo, "Sparks what the
Hell(tm) is going on?"

"Captain," replied Sparks, his voice a melange of fatigued anxiety.
"We have a hostile. A big one."

IS THIS THE END OF THE CREW OF THE LENNY BRUCE?

(WAIT, WE SAID THAT LAST TIME!)

IS THIS THE BEGINNING OF THE LENNY BRUCE?

(NO… THAT'S SILLY. START AGAIN!)

IS THIS THE END THAT WE THOUGHT WAS THE END LAST TIME BUT TURNED OUT
TO BE A NEW BEGINNING FOR THE LENNY BRUCE?

SUPERGUY. WORTH THE WAIT.