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OVERLORDS (FOUNDERS/EDITORS)
Johne Cook, L. S. King, Paul Christian Glenn
Matthew Winslow
 
Book Reviews Editor 
Shannon McNear
 
Lord High Advisor, Grammar Consultant, Listening Ear for Overlord Lee
Paul Christian Glenn
-
PR, Executive Tiebreaker, Desktop Publishing 
L. S. King
-
Lord High Editor, proofreader, beloved nag, muse, webmistress
Johne Cook
-
art wrangler, desktop publishing, chief cook and bottle washer 
Submissions Editors
John M. Whalen, Alice M. Roelke. Jenn Silva, Martin Turton
Serial Authors
M Keaton, Keanan Brand. L. S. King, John M. Whalen
Cover Art
“Cor”
by Gabriel Gajdoš (Prešov, Slovakia)
Bill Snodgrass
Site host, Web-Net Solutions, admin, webmaster, database admin,
mentor, confdante, liaison – Double-edged Publishing
Special Thanks
Ray Gun Revival
logo design byHatchbox Creative
v52d 
 
Already, I can hear you, crying outin confusion and disbelief:
What inthe name of Blast Flanagan has hap- pened to Ray Gun Revival? This isn’t our beloved ‘zine! Someone must beheld responsible!
Funny story...Many of you don’t know me, but asa founding Overlord, I’ve always beenhere, lurking just behind the curtain,whispering vile nothings into the earsof Johne and Lee, your more visibleOverlords.I was there when the spark thatwould become RGR spontaneouslyignited in Johne’s labyrinthine mind.I was there when Lee joined the col-
lecve and got her very rst planet-vaporizing buon. (It was adorable!
No planet was too puny for her to
obliterate in those days!) I was there,
holding umbrellas in the brainstorm
as torrents of inspiraon rained down
upon us, pooling into big, sploshy
puddles of rippling creavity. Ah,those were heady days, indeed!
And then, I was gone.Okay, I was never
completely 
gone.
I connued to serve as Execuve Tie-breaker, someme serial author, and
human sounding board. I remember
this one me, I even read a few sub
-missions. But as a virtual presence
around the oce, I went notably
missing.Meanwhile, Johne and Lee werebusy building a ‘zine, and a commu-
nity around it. With no experience,
limited funds, and persistent space-
monkey infestaons, they managedto create a haven for the nest conon the web, and to aract you ne
folks as readers. It’s already a legacyof which we can all be proud.As our forum members’ alreadyknow, Johne has taken a hiatus from
wring
The Sky Pirate
so he can fo-
cus on creang a new chapter in Real
Life
(TM),
and while I have no desire toprolong his absence, I felt like it was
me to step up and do my part for
RGR. I volunteered to take over thedesktop publishing for a while.It should have been very simple.
Aer all, he’d already done the hardwork of designing and ne-tuning a
gorgeous ‘zine that our readers loved.All I had to do was ... well, I can’t leavewell enough alone, I guess. What can
I say? I’m a ddler.
We’re looking for feedback on the
new design, folks! Love it? Hate it?Take to the forums and let us know!Next month’s issue may be tweaked
slightly, or it may be completely rede-signed again. It’s as much yours as itis ours.
This oce, though — this is minenow. I might just do a lile redecorat
-ing, too. Nothing major, of course...“Drop the monkey and nobodygets hurt,” said the young man with
the n star on his brown shirt. Hisrm grip kept the barrel of his laser
pistol neatly aimed at Dean’s heart.
The winds whistled down throughthe valley on Arca-Delphia. High
above, a hawk variant screeched.
“What about the monkey? That’s along fall for such a lile guy if we just
drop
him,” said Cloey, keeping herstunner aimed at the closest man.
“That’s not what I meant. Set the
primate on the ground and slowlyback away,” said the lawman.Dean struggled to hold onto theglow-in-the dark squirrel monkeywhile keeping his own laser pistolpointed at the brown shirts.
Threeof them, two of us—bad odds evenwithout a squirming animal under one arm
, thought Dean. The grassyvalley oered lile cover or conceal
-ment. If it turned into a shoot out,things would get ugly. Overhead thebinary suns of the backwater planetshined brightly.“We’re saving this animal from be-coming some lord’s evening entrée.Don’t you have a heart?” asked Dean.It was always a long shot to appeal to
someone’s beer nature, but it mightbuy me.The monkey bit Dean’s thumb and
scrambled onto his shoulder. Deancursed like a solar sailor, the monkeymade a laughing screech.
“Dean! Not in front of the mon
-
key,” admonished Cloey. The monkey
smiled at her.“Look, it’s not my concern what
happens aerwards. It’s my job touphold United Galacc Law, and right
now you’re on the wrong side of it,”
said the lawman. His face had seri
-
ous wrien all over it, complete with
square jaw and steely eyes.Dean struggled to keep his mouthshut.
United Galacc Law? 
With at
least ve compeng governments,no such thing as United Galacc lawexisted, which meant the men before
him were either delusional or highly
drugged. Either way, the crazies had
the drop on him, which meant play-ing along would probably be the best
opon. Before he could cater to their
fantasy, the lead lawman’s laser pistol
started to glow an interesng shade
of red.
Sparks ew and the lawmandropped the melng gun with a yelp.“Drop your weapons! We’ve gotyou surrounded,” yelled Captain Se
-dona from the hill above the valley.Dean thought his heart might burst in
 joy. Cloey let out a “Woo hoo!”The young man scowled in deeprage but mooned for his men to
drop their guns.
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