PROEM

Pure B.S. is set in a skewed version of our reality. The time is 1980. The AsAres, as Those-InThe-Know call the omniverses, are at various degrees twisted on a spiral path and layered not quite tangent to each other. At a point in Urths distant past a biological war created a gnashing of teeth and a rending of bone. The atmosphere was engulfed in a deadly form of mutant spawning bacteria. The resultant life forms adapted to this with relish and in its own fatheaded way life flourished. Animals can now talk with humanity and appear just as dumb and not one bit wiser. The first cull, is about the general domain of Yargolan, The Land That Never Was and Always IS. Also in that mix is the general musings of John C. Badmoon as he wandered among the lonely Wastes of Drossmark. The second part is in the form of a sort of song, a canto if you will. It features Badmoon & Smith in one of their earlier fatheaded escapades. The final set, entitled Cosmic Guys I leave for you to discover and enjoy for yourself.

A V A N T I !
-AMT!

A WOLFSHEAD

Unbound
2

Production

YARGOLAN

Shall I tell you of far Yargolan

the Fair? Of her merchants, craftsmen and folk? Of her housewives, children and souls? The Dreamers and Doers all gone now for they fell in a grievous conflict; a smashing, a clashing and rending of bone. Fear not for these fair folk of Yargolan, for their spirit reknews with each generation to make up the world today. Yargolan, The Land that lies Beyond The Sonset, The Land that Neverwas and Always is.

RAMSHIP
The ships Captain strode from the council of Captains stronghold his mandates tucked under his arm. Possessing a cocksure manner and steadfast ways endeared him to his crew as they sailed from far Axholm. The kettledrums beat to the oar masters command as the ramship ploughed through the brine towards far Yargolan. The Skipper had heard of timekeeping flutes but preferred the beat of the drums like a heart. Her new painted eyes just put on her prow bespoke of her crews love of her life, for to them the vessel was alive. The ships crew, freemen and slave, hoped the coming conflict would be short lived. Blackwine braced the spirit of each man as they heeded their tasks. The foe from Souterr had been sighted, Down sails! Ram speed! Up oars! Slamscreechcrash-contact! The splintering inrush of sea foam and blood as the fate of both crews weighed in the balance. As soon as she could the ramship withdrew and counted her losses. The Souterr ship plunged to the shark ridden depths below. Her attack on the foe was just part of her mission. The ship continued on to Yargolan to ravage the shipping lanes for many months. Superior Yargolan forces compelled her to yield after a bloody battle. The ramships crew and her captain spent the rest of their short lived careers as arena bait for Yargolan blades.

FLYCATCH
In the fabled city of Koh, the official flycatch used Honey, instead of Vinegar, to attract the flies away from the delicacies of The Street of Sweets.

The W one
flesh and bone it is those that die but if you live with spirit and seek the why substance goes, not one and I

FAR KAITOLAN
The ring of cold steel from the hands of hot hearts as men met in combat to decide victory that day. Blood ran freely from scores of wounds as champions of both camps became sangfroid and killed without compunction. No quarter asked and none given as Yin battled Yangsoon it became clear that neither side would call The Shots. Through joint compliance tentative Tranquility reigned in far Kaitolan.

A dis-eased mind is not for the Faint-hearted and not for everyone

CAIRN
As Badmoon strode among the familiar ruins he came across a cairn. Mute evidence to a lost memory and of years long past. Musing but a moment over this artifact to ancient vanity, Badmoon carried on with his mission of world wide priority.
-Badmoons Saga

vex
vexed with ourselves crazed with hurtstop and reflect on whom we are

As he wandered about lost Yargolan, Badmoon wondered how hed puzzle the current riddle of runes together. -Badmoons Saga

IDLE
Badmoon wondered what riddles of rhyme hed compose in the coming seasons then shrugged his shoulders and accepted whatever the future held. -Badmoons Saga

terms and acknowledge The Hero Within. -Badmoons Saga

BARD
Steeped in the legends of his race the young bard began his journey through the world. Always searching for the hidden Land of Heroes on his trek, which took him to many lands, he met scores of people and they all told him the same: Your quest ends Now! Not understanding this he went further until one day he grew AWARE that all that traveling was for a purpose which taught him to broaden his outlook and to face life on his own

Though only a bard, Badmoon felt a kinship with those that knew The Mystique of The Sword.
-Badmoons Saga

It is the living of life and the journey through it that defines, proves and shows the truth of will and Spirit.
-The Bard, Badmoon

BADMOON & SMITH

Canto: ONE

Two Fisted Bearcats

As John C. Badmoon and Smith (Whos secret name was Aurealius) Ranged the forest some foul fear Stalked them amid the boughs. Two legged Badmoon and his four Footed chum were old boon Companeiros of many adventures. Smith, a black and white Great Cat, was an intrepid mouser by Nature though not much of a Talker. That suited Badmoon just fine. It was his job as bard of The Kin To do all the communicating. Soon enough would John C. Badmoon thank The Power that The Cat could, indeed, commune With Fang and Claw

BADMOON & SMITH

Canto: TWO

Cocksure & Blind!

As Badmoon and Smith emerged From the trees and ambled on The High Preyrie, a foulness Of five Ratlings surrounded them. Smith, wise to the ways of this Kind, signaled to Badmoon to lay Off the bladework and resist not. Ssss0 Mr. Cat, I sssee you have a Pet manling at your ssside. said Muck, The Ratlings leader. Does he talk? mused Joik, another. Not only that, but I sing, too! retorted John Badmoon. Oh, Great! Now youve went an cooked our goose! Signed The Great Cat. Why? What happens now? asked John. Theyre going to force you to sing The Seven Lays of Sugarplum and if you dont Know every word, were the main banquet! Fussed the Furious Smith. Awe shucks! Is that all?! smirked John

BADMOON & SMITH

Canto: THREE

A Bore in the Hand is Worth Two in The Bush?

Our Lads have been seized by foul Ratlings And just why are you so smug? Smith motioned. My Uncle Owen is the guy who wrote The Seven Lays Of Sugarplum quipped John. Just watch what happens! So just as the party settled down to a Fire and a pipe of stinkweed, Muck the Head goon bade Badmoon start singing twas on the First of Idledown you know, When The Gods shine down with nary A frown warbled John. By the fifth lay of Sugarplum, everybody Including Smith, was sawing logs. And still Badmoon droned onuntil he Realized Smith was snoring the loudest. Pssst! went John barely piercing the Heat fevered dreams of his bud, Smith. Lets scram! hissed Badmoon. Cutting and gnawing Badmoons bonds The duo nimbly scampered off Into the twilight

BADMOON & SMITH

Canto: FOUR

Chasing The Dream

As John C. Badmoon and Smith, his Feline friend, high-tailed it away From the gang of Ratlings A few miles down the road BoilOn A destiny far worse than the Ratling Muck awaited them at The Purple Prose Inn I think its safe enough to catch our Breath! wheezed John. Yeah, and come to think of it, I grow Thirsty too! signed the bewhiskered Smith. Slumping against a nearby Log, John sighed deeply and recalled.. Hey, lardbutt, I just remembered that when I passed Through here the last time there was A tavern of sorts just down the road. Okay, stinknose. Lets make haste to your Place of ale and hope theres some milk There, too! meowed Smith. So our two saps, er, bearcats, raced each Other to their twin dooms

BADMOON & SMITH

Canto: FIVE

Dilemma?
The Purple Prose Inn loomed only A short distance away as our heroes, J.C. Badmoon and A. Smith paused But a moment.. all the same, John, what if they Dont have milk? Smith asked with Dismay. Not to worry, ol hoss, not to worry. Retorted Badmoon. Or worse yet, what if they dont serve My kind?! queried The Cat. Hhhmmm that old prejudice, eh? They been serving Cats at least since The thirties, havent they? responded John. With that between their noggins Our Lads warily wearily approached The roadhouse

10

BADMOON & SMITH

Canto: SIX

Calm Before the Storm

Our stalwarts have just entered A den of depravity They should have a sign outside Posted Abandon Hopeetc.! Signed Smith. Just shut up and watch your tail Cause the latest fad around here is Cuttin Kittys Can and I hear theres a Bounty on certain colors winked John. Ssshudders! yawned the Cat. Seating themselves at the bar, our Bravos ordered.. Ill have a cold ale and a saucer Of milk for me mate. John smiled. As Badmoon quenched his thirst and Smith lapped up his cream from out Of Damnations Shadows approached Two furtive figures. Shoot! Here comes trouble! muttered The innkeeper

11

BADMOON & SMITH

Canto: SEVEN

Dame Fortuna Steps In.

Ahhhthis is the life, eh Smith. exulted Badmoon. Yeah, right. purred Smith. As our two bearcats gloated over their Minor victories and major whammies Next to them came two lovelies WOW! Land o Goshen an all that! Blurted John. Are you a sight for sore eyes! meowed Smith. Allow me to introduce my companion and Myself. This is my four footed friend Gigi (whos secret name was Olga, For as we all know, cats have secret names). As for me, I am The Laedi Cheri D Poupee said an attractive middle-aged Dark haired strumpet on the prowl. My mate here is A. Smith and Im John Badmoon. John spoke. Yes, I know all about you and your Cat Ive been studying you both for months. Inside his deepest soul John now began To sweat, and Smith began to twitch

12

BADMOON & SMITH

Canto: EIGHT

A Horrible Doom!
Our two madcaps were enjoying a wee bit Of rest at a roadhouse when along came The Laedi Cheri and her Great Cat, Gigi. W-w-what d-do you mean that youve been Studying us for several months? Quoth John quite quiveringly. HHHISSSS!!! signed Smith most wrathfully. Relax, my heroesAs you know there Has been a scarcity of pure human males since The Great Kindling of over two thousand Years ago rambled The Laedi. Yeah, sew buttons?! spoke Badmoon. What I propose to you and your Cat is A fine place to live, riches beyond Avarice And no worries other than providing through Me of course, an heir to all my bounty. Related DPoupee. Smith twitched to John (in their private lingo) Smacks a tad too close to the change of Matrimony, ol chum! Hhhhmmm shivered Badmoon. Meanwhileback at the ranch, so to speak, Muck and his pack o Ratlings were hot On our hotspurs trail

13

BADMOON & SMITH

Canto: NINE

A Brush With DEATH!

As our heroes, J.C. Badmoon and Smith sat quivering over their fates, Not for away down the road a pace and a Little to the left came Muck and his homies! SniffsniffWere right on their trail And THIS time hes gonna finish thet song Fore we eats em! growled Muck. Yeah, I smells em, too, boss! sneered Joik. Back at the roadhouse, The Purple Prose Inn, So my heroes, whats it going to be? My Obvious charms and comfort? Or a continued life of utmost banality and Poverty? said The Laedi Cheri D Poupee. If youll buy us dinner, well let you know After. John said hastily. Just what The Heel you up to?! Hissed The Cat. Im tryin t buy us some time! John Replied. Little did our Lads realize that minutes away Fate, in the form of Muck and his Ratlings, Would attempt to interfere Hey, Joik! Ya got that torch ready? Yelled Muck. Yah, I hope it stays lit til we git to the Inn! Joik squeeked. And all the while, J.B. and Smith sat a Gobblin possibly their last supper!

14

BADMOON & SMITH

Canto: TEN

Impending Gloom?!
Joik, light the corner over here! cried Muck the Ratling. So doing the scrawny beast stepped back As that fine example of nineteenth century Trash, The Purple Prose Inn, started to Blaze. Thet oughtta flush the faker out! laughed MuckMeanwhile, inside the joint The fat on the fire was gittin thick Well. said The Laedi D Poupee.Whats It to be? A charmed life with me, or your Continued misery? Just then! Snifffsniff, HEY J.B.! Do you smell Smoke?! spoke Smith. Heck yah! piped John. The Laedi and Gigi started fainting on a Kinna because o the thickening smoke. Taking that as a cue to vamoose our heroes Snuck from the blazing inn. Once outside the building they ran smack Dab into the foul Ratlings!

15

BADMOON & SMITH

Canto: ELEBEN

Burrbutt Gumbo!
This is it, boykid! drawled John. Reckon so, ol chum! signed Smith. Lay down yer arms n well go Easy! drooled Muck. Smith, what say we do the oogie Boogie with a number sixtynine combo?! Went Badmoon. Gotcha! purred The Cat. And from there our scamps feinted left Jabbed rightclawed and mauled Bit and kicked and even gave the Ratlings a bloody nose or two, too! I think we better scootch outta here While the scootchins good! yelled John. I concur! Smith meowed. Later, a mile away John, I think you better see a tailor, One of those Ratlings ripped your drawrs And your heinies showing! Smith Ribbed. Is that so?! Badmoon squeaked. And so our stars limped into the neon Sonset for better or for worse.

16

COSMIC GUYS!
Chapter ONE: Two figures sat by a small campfire. One was a man, about forty years old. He appeared long and lanky. A hooded gray mantle covered his torso. A loin cloth girded his waist and leggings fell to his moccass-ined feet. His only weapon was a reverse curved long knife. As he sat chewing his portion of bigworm he hummed some tunes of Far Tildae. His partner, a Great Cat, about the size of a small pony was black and white. Minutes before The Cat had just killed the bigworm. After eating his morsel, he began to preen. Tomorrow, what say you n me head south toward the Misery Ribber? spoke the man, John C. Badmoon. Sounds right finely by me, now don baddah me whilst Im doin me nails! rumbled The Cat, A. (for Aurealius) Smith. False dawn and the moon in The Sky found Badmoon and Smith just rising to greet The Son of The Sun. Sure is a bit nippy this mornin croaked John. Yah, right, lets hope it warms up. yawned Smith. Hope we don run inta any Ratlings today! posed John. Or any other day for that matter! purred Smith. The day wore on and the sun rose higher in The Sky. Having arrived at a crossroads along that nonesuch of highways, The Boy-lon, our Lads found themselves hot and thirsty. Resting under a nearby tree, the pair finished what remained of the past nights meal. Smith-- in a rare mood-slowly began to speak, Y know, John, you humans are lucky my Da.I never really knew him. He was always on the run. Its not like the fact that he catted around from lair to lair thats natural for a Cat. What I mean to say, about my Da is the fact that I never knew his thoughts, his views on Life. How he felt about us Kitts. At least if you humans don know someone, even after they die you might read their thoughts on paper if they knew how to write. Badmoon thought a moment then slowly replied. Yeah pard, but most of us humans cant read even The Old Tongue, never mind The Runes. Let it resteasy for me to say, hard for you t doLet it rest. So saying Man and Friend continued down Boylon. Sometime later, the duo came across a most peculiar sight. A brace of jackasses was dragging around in circles on bed-raggled looking cart with the logo Bombae, Soother of Fortune emblazoned on it, though indeed faded and weathered after many years of abuse. What do you spose thats all about? spoke John. I don care just as long as it aint trouble! growled The Cat. One things sure! Im glad asses an their kin cant talk and unnerstan us cause then theyd be too embarrassed t see how dumb they is! drawled John. Bless the Beasts an the Kittlins burped Smith.
17

Drawing closer to the cart, after the jackasses had stopped for a moment, J. B. and S. searched the scene carefully. Anythin worth takin? asked the plunder glutton Smith. Naw, nothin thet I can see. wheezed John. Whats that sign onna cart say? It seems t have belonged t a Bombae. He was a Scientwist of sorts. Badmoon chortled. Then a wandering thought crossed the wily Badmoons brain I think Ill just take these here jackasses an sell em to git money sos we can ride up ribber! As the group trotted along, because he had chosen to ride one of the mangy beasts Badmoon observed that it sure beat walking They wound down the road and a while later some troopers, mounted on horses approach-ed them. One of the more surely looking of these louts got within a swords arc, real close-like if ya knows what I mean! My troops an me are on a mission for NoBullman Morro. What are you, a low caste gray, doing riding on a mount?! You know that its against The Codes! My friend an me John then went on to describe how they had come across the lot of their mangy, decrepit asses. Just who are you to go round taking other peoples property?! demanded the trooper. As for meself, Im John C. Badmoon! This frisky fella beside me is my bud, The Great Cat Smith!And just-Who-Might-You-Be? Why Im Chief Shangalangadingdong, by Jingoh! roared the goober. Badmoon knew that Smith an he might git in trouble for his bladder started a twitchin! All the while Smith began to clean his razor sharp claws. Both the troopers and John got more than a little edgy. The Cat commenced t lick his chops as well, thus exposing Natures Fine Needle Sharp Dental work. At this the soldiers began t aim their loaded crossbows towards Our Lads. Some started to unsheathe their swords quite oh-so-menacingly. We seem t be at an impasse, Chief Shang, etcMight I suggest both parties withdraw before someone gits ended? After all-as thet ol kittlins saying goes-He who fights an runs away, gits t fight on St. Swithins Dei!, eh wot?! said J.B. Just let me confab wit me squad an well do dinner! Shangalangadingdong said a bit more apprehensively. With that the troopers withdrew to a tidy distance away Minutes by went an slowly, unbeknownst t J.B. an Smith, the troopers, one by one snuck away! Soon all that was left was Chief Shang-alangadingdong. Nervously he approached Badmoon. Ive decided t forgit this incident of illegal riding an let you both go! beamed the rogue. He
18

added as an afterthought The Vagabond Farewell of May the Road be Clear before you. May You Always have Clear Road! came Johns reply. Watchin his Scarlet Cape dwindle in The Dust down The Road Badmoon an Smith trod the road at ease. After a few miles had been trekked J.B. an A. Smith looked upon an Awe inspirin sight! Their destination, The Misery Ribber! As they got closer, within several yards of The Ribber they both grew acutely Aware of its noxious vapors. Hmmmsmells jist like yer cookin! snorted Smith. Yeah, really?! I always thought my cookin smelled worser en this! chuckled John. Soonly the twain began to search for a means t cross The Wide Misery. Try as they might they couldnt find a passage on any flat boat, steamboat, keel boat or any other kina ribber craft. Frustration an Dismay foreshadowed any Sunshine in their Hearts. Time wore on an then Badmoon hit on an idear in his silly fatheaded way He had The Notion of Buildin a Raft! When John put his idear t Smith, The Cats reply was Gee, How Novel an Original! A gentle razz was Badmoons only response. As Fate would have it J.B. wouldnt have t break his back makin a raft fer just thet afternoon they found a leaky rowboat that sold at a rock bottom half-pricewhew! See how lucky we yam t git this prize craft?! gloated John. Jist as long as it gits us cross The Rib-ber! chided The Cat. At that particular moment a mile or two up ribber the skipper of The Flatboat, Other-Wise, a certain Bill Call Me Jim Gurck was preparing his Wessel for a Trip Hmmm lets see everythins seems t be in order n Ship Shape n Bristol Fashion. Its too bad only me n Mr. Smokk can find the time to breakaway fer th festival. Too bad St. Swithins Dei falls but once a year, the locals don wanna leave their homes for nothin when WholeyDei is here! mused Jim Gurck. So with his cargo secured the skipper ambled over to a nearby dockside pub--The Laury Lye by name--for a brew or two before shuteye. Vespers found Our Lads with their craft pulled up shoreward. They were heating a can of beans on a cozy little fire John, d ya think itll take us long t cross th Misery? quizzed Smith. Nah, it just depends on how thick th smudgesmudgepukestink is this time a yearrelax, babe, no sweat! grinned John. You think everything is easy, don ya? Nah, not really. Its just a matter of altitude an attitude. Im jus a natural born optimess. winked Badmoon. After Vespers The Stars began t twinkle an they both had t tinkle. Soonly B. an S. settled down for th night.
19

A few miles away upribber sly Jim Gurck had his last swig of rum and tottered dock wise towards his craft, The OtherWise. A roosters crowing woke Smith up before John. He saw that he was the only one awake so The Cat began to play. He chased his tail for a while, batted at a leaf and then nothin in particular. Smith then chose t wake John up by nippin at Badmoons butt Yyyeeeooowwwwchhh! Hey! Whad-dayah thin youre doin, bobba- boy!?! Don yell at me! I jus wanted t make sure we got started in time, is all. smirked Smith. After a warm breakfast of porridge for J.B., and a skunk for The Cat, they both got in their now nearly sinking overcrowded little craft. Soon nough they were merrily row, row, rowin their boat Southward bound.

The goin got t be a bore chore so Hey Smith ol Cat, know any good shanties? said John. No, but if ya hum a few bars an join in a meow or two Ill hum along! yucked Smith. Just THEN! The caulkin onna boat began t leak! An you know how Cats LOVE Watah! As John was gaily singin along Smiths turgid lil big brain noticed HIS Paws were gittin WET! Tarnation! John! Stop thet caterwaulin an listen! Were sinkin! snapped The Cat. Don git yer knickers inna twist big fella! Were only in five feet o watah! Ill jus start bailin fer a while, thets all! smoothed John. Alternatin betwixt bailin an rowin ever few minutes, Badmoon had them cruisin The Ribber at Warp Seven in No Time (ya-Right!)! An indignant Cat continued his whiney-heinie ways J.B., how much did ya git fer sellin Bombaes jackasses? quizzed the furry one. Over a peck n a half a piece. Well worth ever koozle, too! Whyd ya ask? Ya coulda bought a better wessel! Tightwad! Smith bitched. Not tightwad but frugal is the word, if ya heard from a bird, curd! winked John. Suddenly from out of The Mornings Fog a Blast from A Horn Resounded! Ahoy ye lubbers! Move that flotsam! Do it in double-time or die! bellowed a fellow from a long flat boat, The OtherWise, to be exact! We sure could use some help out here. Im not bailin fast nough to stay afloat! Permission t come aboard!? Badmoon asked. An why should I let you lubbers come aboard? said the man. BecauseHummmannahhh wait! Ive got it! Im a GREAT Mage n Ill turn ya inta a jackasswait! Worse n thet, Ill turn y inta a great big kitty cat jus like cousin Brucie here! said Badmoon gleefully as he pointed at a none to amused Smith all the while. Brucie, huh?! Sheesh! Thanks loads! thought Smith. Dat don scare me none cause bein a kittlin would proly be lots bettern woikin fer my
20

boss, The Skipper Jim Gurck! spoke the man in a rather hush-hush subdued sorta way. MISTER Smokk! bellowed a loud VOICE from out of The Darkness towards the stern. At that moment Mr. Smokk--for, indeed, t was he whom Our Lads were conversing with--excused himself and went sternwards. Dammit John! My keisters gittin WET! Do something, will ya!? hissed The Cat! Im thinnin, bahbba-boy! Im thinnin! Yowsa! Yes! Thats IT! Now listen heres th plan n with that John C. Badmoon proceeded wit his PLAN o Craft n Wit! Soon, actually bout twenny minutes later with B. n S. nearly up t their ankles n watah, came a big burly fellow, along with Mr. Smokknatch. Ho! Ho! Ho! Ya Lubbers! Hows it goin Down there n thsmudgesmudge-pukestink?! Ah gots t know! laughed The Big Man. Weuns jes right fahnly, septin if n we sink n The Smudgesmudgepukestink my critter an Ill never git t Gramma Tilleys Diamon Mine, which She did leave t Us oh so kindly, in Her Last Will an Teste-momentarily! conned John The ol smoothy. Hhhmmnnmmmhmmm. thought The Big Man as He cogitated Oh-So-Swiftly! Weeeeelllll! Whyinyajissayso! Throw em a line, Mr. Smokk n well discuss this further with some Good Rhumeloon Ale! chortled The Big Fellow. But a moment or two later Our Lads dried themselves an were downing a few brewskieseven The Cat?! Twas then the Big Burly Fellow introduced his mate n HimSelf. Me swabby here is Lenny Smokk a.k.a. Boopsie. As fer meSelf, my current moniker is Big Billie, Call me Jim Gurck. Im The Skipper of this Good Wessel The OtherWise. We could use a coupla deckhands; though I really cant see how a critter such as yer Cat--with no opposable thumbs--can be of much use. Mind you, this is just til we reach The Parsai Delta part of Poomlimmy. Deal? Sounds square t us, eh chum? In-cidentally my, hehheh, Cat has come up with a wunnerful ider that, besides bein chief rat n vermin chaser, hes tol me hed be De-Lighted t Sing Any Shanties you might like. His rendition of The Seven Lays of SugarPlum--all eight hundred verses--is a particular fave from here to the Far North of Kooglesburg. drawled Badmoon. Ya don say?! said The Skipper, n since were all boon Companeiros by now well just calls im Jim! The Deis passed swiftly but quietly as John learned all th tricks of punting from that Able Bodied Punster, Lenny Boopsie Smokk. Smith managed t keep the varmint population down an all went rather tidily as Our Lads cruised The Ribber, Southbound. One Night, bout a week later, as B. n S. lay down t nap before their watch, The Cat whispered in Johns ear ppsssttt John, pssst JohnDoes yer Gramma Tilley Really have a Diamon Mine, does She, huh does She?!
21

Now thet Im fully AWAKE, ol Fleabag FriendNo she does NOT. I jus said that sos theyd git GREEDY n take Us down Ribber murmured Badmoon. It was at that moment that Boopsie passed by outside the little cabin where Our Lads lay. He must have overheard Johns stage whisper for in a thrice he went off n tol Jim about it Ya don say?! Hmmmm well heres what well begins t do an with that utterance Jim outlined to Boopsie HIS Masterwork of Craft n Wit. So there. A day or two passed when Our Lads observed peculiar (yknow funny) behavior in their hosts. A malignant stare would come across Jims face whenever he thought B. and S. werent looking. Boopsie once or twice tried starting an argument with Smith, but The Cat simply ignored him as all cats are fond of doing to most humans. And so it went til one fine morning The punt had put in on a particular nasty stretch of ribberside when Jim gathered his crew along the side of the craft. Our Lads glanced anxiously at each other an started gurgletwitchin (ya git real sweaty n you can even get a bellyache, evenyeah, no kiddin!). Someones been fibbin round here. Ill give the people whove been dishonest one chance t git ashore. Ifn those fibbers chooses t stay aboard MY boat, then theyll takes their chances some nasty naughty night. Hehhehheh. said Jim rather menacingly. Unbeknownst t the folk of The Good Punt OtherWise furtive figures were lurking in th underbrush along th shore. Indeed these, as it turned out, were the Infamous Skoot-chez, a band of The Un Sauvage Rude People! Sssshudders! The half-naked leadman tootled on his birdcall (natch!) and from all sides, even in the water, The Rewdstirs showed themselves to the baffled boys on the boat. G-g-gulp! went three human an one nonhuman throats on thee boat. W-w-whaddahyah want?! quaked Jim. Chickennah Quatchatoryee! screamed The Leadman. Do any ah youses guyses unnerstand im? Jim asked Our Lads. Shucks, no! was the reply! All the while, Smith caught the eyes of Sappy, the second in command of The Skootchez. Slowly The Cat, whose un-blinking eyes could stare a frog down at twenty paces, began Mastering the puny intellect of The Rewdstir (Oh Great Leadman Piffy, The Great Black and White FourFoot Demands we let them go!) wailed Sappy to his leadman. (Let them go?! Whatever do you mean, Old Chap? Let them go, pon my word! Indeed!) said Piffy The Leadstir. Quite by accident Piffy caught, out of the corner of his baby blues, the dominating glare of Smith. Inch-by-inch Smith poked along til he came abreast of Piffy The Skootch Rewdstir. He placed his left fore paw on top of Piffys head, meowed once, drew blood (just enough, mind you) and from that moment to this Piffy The Lead Rewdstir, scourge of The Tropic Mains, knew HE was OWNED!
22

John, walk as cockily as you can off the punt! Im ordering this human to take us to his chief. I hear they have large stores of Catnip around here n I want to question the headstir. I aint had a bit o nip in months n livin wit you can drive me bonkers sometimes, ya dig?! purred The Cat. Not a problem, Ol friend. What do ya want done wit Jim n Boopsie? smirked Badmoon. Leave that t me. said Smith. So saying Smith ordered The Skootch Rewdstirs to tie Jim n Boopsie together on the punt and to take away all sundries and set The OtherWise adrift without poles. Jim n Boopsie, glad t just t be alive, thanked The Master of Life and Death for escaping with all their hair. Chapter TWO Soon enough the raiding party of Skootchez along with Badmoon n Smith wound their way through the viney paths of Thee Forest Primeval. Broad vistas and ragged mountains soon passed under their weary feet. One day as the group entered the ruins of an insipid little burg, Smith turned to John and said Well, Here we arePiffy just informed me the name of this place is Here-We-Are, their village. Ya don say?! mocked John. The hot afternoon sun beamed down upon Badmoon n Smith as Piffy guided them to the Jefes lodge. Piffy then indicated by sign that John should wait outside while Smith, He-WhoMust-Be-Okay, conferred with Thee Chief. That suited John right finely as that gave him a chance to sit and ooooogle all the surrounding half naked Rude Women. Ahhhh, this is the life thought Badmoon. Reaching into his possible pouch (a small bag filled with Lifes possibilities), John withdrew a finely carved pipe. He had lost his trusty corncobbber some months back. Somehow he had acquired this fine briar. Lighting his pipe in a casual manner Mr. B. started to relax Just then! (OHMY! BYTHEMASTEROFLIFE! Look! Smoke is coming from that mans head! Hes on fire!) were the numerous responses which, for him, was a common feat. Ashamed by the villagers unexpected response, John got all gurgletwitched! He even started to chew his nails n you know what THAT means! As soon as Badmoon began to faint out from the lodge of The Jefe strode Smith, Piffy and The CHIEF! John! John! Snap outta it! Whats the matter?! asked The Great Cat. (Oh Great Fourfoot, what can we do to help your companion?) asked Piffy.
23

As Smith explained what may have happened, The Chief noticed Johns pipe in his limp hand. (My Chief, The Great Tootlepip, wishes to know what that object is in your friends hand.) spoke Piffy to The Cat. That, my gracious hosts, is whats called a pipe. Folk in the Outlands where John n I come from use them to smoke what we call Kinnikinik or tobacco if you prefer. As to why people smoke, only The Bigunmighty-cigarettemakers know why. rambled Smith. Ooooohhh my heeead!! W-wha happened?! said Badmoon rather quiz-zically. Lately, John, youve been letting your gurgletwitchin get the best of you. You simpl y fainted when you felt the odds were overwhelming. Relax, ol friend, everythings fine now. Were among good company. soothed The Cat. Ya don say mumbled John rather sheepishly. Later that night after vespers, the village held a feast in honor of Badmoon and Smith. John in his typical fashion proceeded to drink the night away. His drink was pooki, a potent fermented beverage made from goat spit and bananas. As for The Cat, Smith got all the cat nip he wanted. Both Our Lads soon fell into the revelry and swung til dawn. When the duo couldnt make merry any more they fell into a deep stupor in each others lapsThe sun rose and John had a headache. The flies kept buzzing around his eyes and when he went to swat them off BOY WAS HE SURPRISED! HEYWhats goin ON?! SMITH! Smith! WAKE UP! roared Badmoon. MEEEEEOOOOWWWW! HSSST! Spit! Spit! growled Smith upon hearing Johns plaintive cries. The reason Our Lads were so alarmed was onna kinna because they were both bound head to tail over a large boilin cookin cauldron! (Ahh do tell! Our dinner is awake. Dear chaps dont fret over your fate. This is what happens around here on this most auspicious day. Dont you know?! Why the village medicine men or horseographers, if you prefer, have deduced in their shamanic like ways, that this is indeedSt. Swithins Dei! Ta rah Ta rah!) chortled Chief Tootlepip. John! John! These Rewdstirs is stark ravin certifiable uncontestable and dyed in the wool NUTS! bemoaned The Great Cat, rather frantically I should say. All I know is back when I was a kid, when Swithins Dei came round n all th gifts from the jolly ol harelip himself were opened under the holy Prickerbush, all my kin shared the choke berry pie--with mustard frosting, natch!-- n wed get a chance at th toome board. Siiighth halcyon days of yout! murmured John. J.B., was the traditional chopping n after wards, burning of th toome board spose to be symbolic of Harelips diving into th Suzzlebums Jaws as his friends looked on? asked a very
24

concerned Smith. Why, yes, of course. Why do you ask? cause I think these Rude People take their Scriptures way too seriously! Notice the stirring of The Sacred Sizzle Sauce yonder in the shadow of Beth (for the time and place, a common enough term for chicken coop!). These Rewdstirs are dedicated Winchellites! Whatta we gonna do?! wimped The Cat. I guess well just have t pray t our heathen god, Deus Ex Machina, t git us outta here! In th meantime I suggest you relax! soothed th Badmoon. All the lib long day Our Lads were ever so slowly, inch by excruciating inch lowered into the steaming pot. Badmoon knew this could be their last escapade. So having done all he could, simply by relying on ol Deus Ex Machina, he settled back to wait for Deaths kind embrace. As an after thought he idly blew in his chums furry pointed ears just to be a pain in the ass n pass th time away. After a while--maybe ten seconds or so-- The Cat grew irritated Badmoon! Cut that out! Im tryin to concentrate on us getting outta here! shrieked thee kitty. Shucks Im just tryin a pass th time away sos you wont bewail our fatewait whats that humming sound I hear?! Its coming closer Oh my stars! A HUUUUGGEE Shadow loomed over the village and blacked out thee sun! The Rewd-stirs quickly panicked. One even ran blindly, in haste, into the cauldron spilling its con-tents. People everywhere were yelling. (The sky is falling! The sky is falling! Lets go see The King!). But to no avail seeing their king would halt what was happening. For indeed the sky hadnt really begun to fall. For what was casting the huge dark spot in the hearts and minds of these simple folk was a very large airship of a radical and innovative design! From the belly of the beast leaped forth strangely garbed figures. Covering the dozen or so people as they descended on cables from the ship, was a no nonsense helmet-with a strange Y type opening on the face and a flaring of metal to protect the neck. A fleece lined coverall and high jackboots completed the figures clothing. Fierce look-ing swords and nasty crossbows were their armaments. One fierce looking fellow strode over, upon landing, to where Badmoon and Smith were dangling over the now cauldron less spot. Be you John Badmoon? asked the fellow in bad Tonguelish. J.B. couldnt be sure what kind of accent the fellow had for it was muffled by his wind scarf. Taken aback by this show of good fortune, Badmoon stut-tered the affirmative. Me free you now. the bold fellow replied. John still couldnt quite figure out why the man talked so ape-like. Moments later, after freeing Our Lads the fellow indicated to them the way to climb on the cables from the airship. Realizing that Smith couldnt hold on to the cable, John held him as best he could. As soon as the weight was on the cable it started ascending. While they were going up, John saw the carnage below.
25

Outta the cookin pot an inta another? I pray Thee not! thought Badmoon. Smith, the big galoot squirmed against John in their harness. The combined weights of the two of them put a strain on the cables as it was hauled upward into the belly of the airship. Minutes later after giving the Rewdstirs the old what for, the remaining rescue squad rose skyward. John, just what the heck kinna thing is this? trembled The Great Cat. I dunno but we sure are havin fun an were flyin besides. Uncle Owen would give a zillion pecks for THIS ride. chortled John. As they scrambled and attempted to free themselves from their harness, one of their rescuers came over to them. Me help you. He said. John got a better look at the type of person that had just saved them from certain and untimely-though tasty, to The Rewdstirs-- death. The only part of his jump suit that wasnt red were his fleece lined black jackboots, his broad black belt--with brass buckle, natch!-- and on both his shoulders was a patch symbol of a curious design. It was an emblem of a pink posey. Putting a great sack of stuff down on the deck, he went to help Our Lads out of their harness. Badmoon and Smith after scrambling free looked around their new locale. There was no one else, beside the rescue squad and themselves in the dimly lit cargo hold of the big craft. John grew appre-hensive when he thought about the people of this vessel and their ability to make such things. He was just about to voice this con-cern when Posey nodded toward a side door, indicating they should go through it. Posey didnt say much, which was fine with Badmoon for it grated on his fine sensibilities to hear The Mother Tongue garbled so badly(?!). They went forward and up several decks and finally came to a large chamber with several viewing ports arranged around it. Diverse figures were at various posts doing what ever it is that keeps such a large aircraft like this afloat upon the currents of a dream. One figure sat on a higher level than the others. His position was centrally located and as sat in his high chair hes l o w l y turned around. Upon seeing whom it was that had just arrived on his bridge he gave a great sigh of relief and winked at John. UNCLE OWEN! beamed John so Very HAPPILY. What a great surprise! he added. For you, maybe, but not for me and with that Uncle Owen very briefly went into a small, tiny wee bit of a peck of an explan-ation. For you see, there might be spies on board! Follow me lads, to my stateroom and well be able to talk more freelyUh, Johnny has your kitten been deloused? Speaking of which, my nose tells me you need some freshening up also. Uncle Owen remarked. First, Uncle Owen, can you tell us what this is all about? asked John. Only after youve both been cleaned up!
26

I dont allow stinkers on board my ship, relatives or not! said Uncle Owen The Tactful. Reaching into a coat pocket, Uncle Owen brought out a bosons whistle. Tootling on his toy Uncle Owen explained that if Posey were within hearing he would soon come a runnin to do Uncle Owens bidding. While they waited for Posey to get there, John closely looked at his Uncle for the first time in twenty years. His close cropped silvery gray hair gave no indication of thinning. He wore a beard for now--Uncle Owen was a Master of Disguise--without a moustache. His one good eye pierced the will of most sentient creatures but for those who knew him well--far and few between, Im sad to say--a gentle good humor could often escape his thin lips. The patch of black leather--with an embossed cross of an el-dritch design--was what may be the single most peculiar aspect about the current visage of Uncle Owen. He knew the price of THAT Cross and would gladly pay The Were gild a billion times over if but one person would only Honor the cost of That Cross. A long dark indigo coat, blue denim jeans and black jack boots completed what this doughty man wore when not spying for The Family AsAre. A few minutes passed and Posey came by just as Uncle Owen said he would. Uncle Owen told Posey to take care of cleaning Our Lads up. John and Smith dutifully foll-owed Posey to a special little room called in the lingo of these people, a commode. Both of Our Lads squealed with delight for here indeed was proof that they were in the presence of gods! Wowie! Imagine! Hot and cold running watah! said Badmoon gleefully. And an indoor poop shupe, too! I wonder if theyll let me drink from the bowl?! replied The Cat wistfully. A while later, after Posey had fallen asleep outside waiting for them, B. and S. examined each other closely I-is that y-you, John? I almost dont recognize you without your whiskers or smell! Its me alright! You little fur ball! Your fur sure looks shinyNow where is Posey with my new clean clothes?! remarked John Just then Posey appeared with a lilac colored robe for Badmoon to wear. Posey assured J.B. that such attire was the current rage for upper deck officers. Upon hearing THAT, John most happily slipped into the soft terry cloth kimono. Passing through seven sets of doors, down five flights of stairs, one or two hallways and a secret hush hush panel brought them to Uncle Owen s stateroom. Ah, there you are! Good lads! Now that we can finally talk let me begin by saying how good it is to see once again, Johnny! The Cat is a new companion is he not? asked Uncle Owen. Smith n me have been together for about eight years now. He was just barely out of kitten hood(In this Age, kitten hood lasts about seven years among Great Cats) and hes the bestest pal a guy could have. Anyway, Uncle Owen, you disappeared from The Kin about twenty years ago just after presenting to The Family what was to be your last composition. said John. You have a very good memory, Johnny. said Owen. Some would say otherwise, Uncle. Do you recall what that final song was?
27

Thats easy! You had me memorize it word for word. Smith, who knows it by heart as well as me, sings it with me around the campfires during our far travels. The name of the song is The Seven Lays of SugarPlum said Badmoon. You see all this around us, John? It re-presents ONE of the highest degrees of technological know how on this planet. There are other high civilizations to the north and east of us. Some are highly competitive and will stop at nothing to destroy our mighty family empire of which I am an agent for. Uncle Owen stated emphatically. Badmoon gazed around the room. It was a small sleeping chamber but even so it showed to Our Lads the degree of advancement these people had. Highly polished paneling, a ceramic wash basin with hot n cold runnin watah! And most marvelous of all; a magick bulb which lit the room like day light! Overcome with awe, Badmoon just let his uncle ramble on and what makes SugarPlum so special as a song is that its a code for a certain formula. The figures of that codex are in-tertwined within both the music and the lyrics of that most important tune. What those sounds and words contain is perhaps one of the most lethal forces once known to Elder Man. Elder Man was so taken with the power of this highly destructive force that it did indeed lead the ancients to their own demise and eventually to our present day screwy reality. remarked Uncle Owen, The Verbose! So where exactly do Smith n me fit in the grand scheme of things? said John. That, youll find out after a brief summary of the dire danger to be had from men once again tempting Fate without proper guidance. The force of which I speak started out in the Far East in Shyna. That was about two thousand years ago. It worked its way west and eventually became known as black powder. The weaponry which resulted from mans ingenuity and insatiable greed developed a form of controlling black powder in whats known as guns. Your part in our planet spawning drama is this: We need an agent who can pass as a member of the various races around The Globe began Uncle Owen. W-wait, whaddaya mean around the globe? Whats a globe? interrupted Badmoon. Im sorry, Johnny, I forgot just how bassackwards Yargoleans are. Im going to be blunt and youll just have to take my word for it. Johnny our world, Urth is just a great big round ball floating in space. Until The Allies From OtherWise show you personally, from the deck of one of their starships, youll have to take my word for it. To help you understand it a little better its like this and with that Uncle Owen went on to explain with questionable success about the Way of The UniVerse and The Nature of Things. Later with Badmoons head spinning, Uncle Owen tootled for Posey. Seconds passed and Posey arrived with his usual alacrity. Uncle Owen then introduced Our Lads to what was to be for John at least, a turning point in his life. John and Smith, allow me to introduce to the both of you Hefae (Chief/Boss) Marku Sergaloodepupemuffmuff. He generally answers to the name Serge. Hes going to train you both in all the known forms of not only how to survive but how to relish every single moment. And THAT includes ALL known ways of the martial arts. Kom-prenu?! spoke Uncle Owen.
28

So Posey er rather, Serge took them both out of Uncle Owens chamber to a rather short hallway. In the middle of the hallway was a hole with a pole extending up into the darkness of the airship and down into its depths. By now Serge had changed from his nickelausing suit (to go nickelausing meant to go exploring/pillaging/raping/plundering, to be a pirate in another words!). He now wore the far more comfortable lilac kimono like one that Badmoon had on. This be our holeydeck. We go down three decks, dig?! said Serge. Huh? said John, who was gettin slightly ascared. Smith was wondering how in Hades hed get down three decks. He decided to wait an see. Me go first, you next. When kitty go last, yo catch. Ya follah?! spoke Serge. So saying Serge leaped into space and grabbed the greased pole and shot down nearly instantly! They heard a thump seconds later and a booming voice urging them to jump. So grabbing destiny by the cajonas, John, who almost wet his un-derdrawers took his leap of faith. Next, after some coaching, came The Cat ascreechin an a hissin all the while! Badmoon very gingerly caught his furry pal and both collapsed on the third deck down. Posey er, Serge was laughing hysterically at such a sight. And to thinkthought Sergethat his kind were once masters of this planet. yuck. yuck. yuck.! Thats enough fellows! We have much work to attend to and accomplish! said Serge rapidly dropping his bad Tonguelish and into more acceptable speech. It took Badmoon a few minutes to calm Smith down and as he did so, he, too, noticed a change in Serges demeanor. Puzzled, he cautiously stood up and became alert to any gurgletwitchin activities. Serge approached them both with a big smile on his ebon face and hugged them profusely. SURPRISE! SURPRISE! SURPRISE! Had you both fooled didnt I?! But seriously to get down to brass tacks, as it were, I play a myriad of roles around here. You, I pre-sume, saw me as a token Moor so I played the part. Your Cat, who knows what he thought of me. The Cats have their own prejudices so Im told. Anyway besides being chief cook and bottle washer Im also NoBullman Owens Master Agent In All Affairs Unusual. And THAT, Johnnyboy just about covers the whole spectrum of Life on THIS Planet and many more besides. Ya follah?! rambled on Serge. Let me catch my breathapparently what your tellin me, is that theres more to life than meets the eye, my Moorish ally? asked the ever quick study, Badmoon. All the while, Smith, who really didnt care about such mundane matters, began to preen and clean his own self. What Id really like right now is either a juicy young ratlin or a great fat bigsnake! sighed Smith whist lickin one of his double pawed forefeet. Correctomundo my oafish friend! Let me begin by telling you what Uncle Owen couldnt, for fear of spies. John and Smith, you must believe and accept that there is other intelligent life OtherWise. By Other-Wise I mean other worlds, other times and other dimensions. As your training goes on youll begin to understand. The people NoBullman Owen and I work for locally, The Puntz are a peaceful race resembling the type of stock I come from, The Moors. But
29

anyway, I digressJohn, there is only ONE Place! To get to THAT place and maintain equilibrium requires a strong, dedicated intellect. I didnt say mind, for some creatures dont acknowledge its existence. Other Places, false places want to take over OUR PLACE, ya follah? Oui, mon capitan, oui! drawled Badmoon. And so the weeks passed as The Great Airship, The Clinchpoop wended its way ever southward toward the capital of The Puntz. They reached a point one day when they began to cross the ocean. Terrified, without knowing why, both Badmoon and Smith got to gurgletwitchin real bad, like! To allay their fears, Serge and Uncle Owen taught Our Lads to play the card game called in the Far North of OhKanada Mutton. They rigged up special manipulators for The Cat just so he, too, could whip the crap out of John at this most befuddling of card games. It seemed to John far more complicated than any Set Back rules--both cut throat & the way wimmin play it--than he had ever encountered before. As the months passed Serge finally began to drill into Badmoons thick noggin the basics of Bixada, the MOST Deadly Martial Art Form Known to Man! It was far more be-wildering to John than Mutton and there were times that he wished he was back home playing a friendly game of Poke Her even with the local Ratlin population! One fine day just about before arriving at their destination, Badmoon got up the gumption to comment Serge, about these martial arts you teach, isnt the one that every one of The Kin knows, called Phooshaiwell isnt Phoo-shai enough? It would be Johnny if you were just going to stay an ackbassward barbarian from Yargolan. Your Uncle Owen, myself and The High Mucketymuck of Qarth have other plans for you and SmithNow let us continue our katas for now. said Serge. And with that Our Lads practiced and practiced and practiced. About a week later Serge knocked on Badmoons door HURRY UP, GUYS! Were almost there! Well be docking at Kookapah Tower within the hour. Uncle Owen says to wear dress reds, ya follah?! So John put on his bestest white and red striped jersey. Over that he put on his scarlet tunic with fake fleece around the sleeves. Putting his best well worn denims with holes in the knees-natch!--then over his denims after a pair of tube socks, of course John put on his bestest spit shined jack boots. The only thing Smith wore was a big wide red ribbon around his neck. Smith thought he looked like the veritable Cats Meow. The quintessential Kitty Cat, so there! After dressing, Badmoon and Smith followed Posey er rather, Serge to the bridge. Seated in his command chair was Uncle Owen. Uncle Owen signaled to Our Lads to come stand by the command chair while the great airship eased to the tether of the docking spire. Signalman stand-by to semaphore that the I.S.A. Clinchpoop is awaiting docking apparatus. This is Gold Owen Gosselin over and out. said Uncle Owen.
30

Wasnt Clinchpoop my mothers maiden name? asked Badmoon. Indeed it was. But your Aunt Florry, my dear departed wife, was your mothers sister so that made her a Clinchpoop, too.Now pay attention lads and brace yourselves cause it gets a little shaky. stated Uncle Owen.

About fifteen minutes later, after the great airship was safe and secure, John and Smith descended a loading ramp and entered ter-minal B of A building. Uncle Owen told Our Lads that he had important matters to attend to. Not to worry, guys. Ill be along shortly but later. and with that Uncle Owen went up the ramp and back inside the Clinch-poop. Our lads followed Serge into a little cubicle. Smith thought it looked a little like an outhouse but kept it to himself. John noticed the panel of tiny buttons with numbers on them. With a matter of fact motion Serge pressed the bottom button. Suddenly with a sickening speed the room descended! Our lads, taken quite aback, gurgle twitched like crazy! Serge had to suppress a belly laugh. Moments later the trio came to a stop. The doors opened and out stepped Our Lads to the main hallway of a grand terminal. The people! There were so many and of all races, though some John couldnt recognize. Though mostly Moorish, there were Rice Folk from Far KTy. There were Plateau People from Middle Hexicahwahco. There even were, surprisingly enough, some red haired Kaux from Upper Norskovkorsk. Gaining Our Lads attention finally, Serge took them aside to an alcove of most curious design. Serge took from his pants pocket a little round flat metal bauble. As Badmoon and Smith watched from outside the win-dows of the booth, Serge dropped his bauble into a slot in a wall mounted box. Somehow, perhaps on a hook, was a horn-like device. Serge put the device to his right ear and waited. Curiouser an curiouser thought J.B. Watching Serge play finger pie on the box, John wondered just what kind of place he and Smith were in. Well, fellas, in a few minutes well be heading to one of the finest eateries of this zone of Qarthdom. said Serge. How are we gonna get there? By magick carpet? asked John most curiously. By taxi, of course! By a steam powered four wheeled horseless chariot! Incidentally, John, from now on when speaking The Mother Tongue, please refrain from slipping into Gutter Tongue. When you and Smith talk privately between the two of you, its okay to slur the limits of Tonguelish. But enough said and done, eh Lads, lets just relax and wait for our ride. spoke Serge.
31

John looked quizzically at his Cat, shrugged his shoulders as if to say what the hell, and ambled along with their Moorish ally. They then exited the building by passing through double doors. The trio halted on a common sidewalk alongside the huge towering edifice from which they had been in. Huffin an apuffin as it chugged along came something John C. Badmoon and even Smith had never seen before in all their lib long daze. Just what in Hells Bells is THAT critter, some kinna monaster?! asked Badmoon most incredulously. Smith just started hiss and spit, for he was quite ascared. THAT monaster as you call it, Johnny, is the very device which is our transport-ation. And this is your last warning: speak The Mother Tongue as proper as pos-sible...And where ever and when ever possible. A persons spoken language or accent makes them a marked man. It may cost you your life one day, if you ignore your training! said Serge sternly. I understand, mo commandantSmith calm down! Its only a can of beans on wheels, right Serge?! Winked John to Serge. Nodding his agreement to Badmoon, Serge and Our Lads mounted the steam machine by means of a small ladder in the back of the machine. Stepping up into the luxu-riantly leather upholstered and wooden paneled interior, Our Lads breathed a sigh of relief. Serge reached into a large pocket of his coat and brought forth a trinketUpon seeing the object in Serges big brown hand, John beamed a big wide grin! My pipe! My beautiful pipe! How can I ever thank you?!Uhmmmn would you happen to have any kinnikinik or tobacco on you? asked John. Johnny hold on. Im only giving you this because its the last item we found from your possible bag. The rest: razor, locket, and weapon--whatever else was left--all was lost at that Rewd village. said Serge seriously. Damn! thought Badmoon. Of all things to have lost, Ill miss the locket from Janielle the most. Too bad. Maybe if I can get back to her someday, I can replace it. Hey JohnSnap out of it! You were caught napping! Let me explain something to you and the Cat. You see around you many different races of people. What they all have in common is just THAT: Were all common. United in a single cause, the like of which youll know about once you BOTH become acceptable as agents of our hidden masters. spoke Serge. The taxi rumbled on and John sat glumly in the darkness of the cab. Smith tried cheering John up by kneading his arm and purring against his chest. To no avail did the Cat sway his bud. Finally Badmoon spoke up It sounds to me, Serge, like I have no choice. Do I have a choice in my future? Let me mull over the answer to your question as we dine at Qarths finest restaurant, The Chicanery. Were just about there and theres one thing I want YOU TWO to think about while we dine: Where WERE you both and what were you doing some months back, on the day I rescued you?! So saying Serge turned to the driver in the adjoining compartment and requested that the vehicle stop.
32

Tipping the driver a double koothek, Serge and Our Lads disembarked from the steamer. Entering the gold and diamond studded faade the trio was met by a maitred. His fair skin, blue eyes and closely trimmed red hair bespoke of his Norskovkorsk heritage. Good evening Sirs and pussycat. Welcome to The Chicanery. If youll just follow me to your table, I will summon a waiter for you. Which do you prefer: Smo-king or nonsmoking? spoke the maitred in fluent Tonguelish. Karl, you old rascal! You know my routine by now. Ive been coming here since the forties. Smoking section will do just fine. Oh, and heres a kooth bit, would you please get us a couple of fine Cabun cigars? chortled Serge. Shortly but later Our Lads and Serge were accommodated at a fine plush booth. Soon both Badmoon and Serge were puffing merrily away on some fine Cabun tobac. Smith meanwhile, just wanted to die! He couldnt stand the smell so he excused himself--with Johns blessing and Serges leave--to hunt his own morsels. Have a good time and get back before the witchin hour! winked John. A good looking young woman came by to take their order. She was dressed from lovely head to wondrous feet black and orange stripes, like a fierce tygah from Far KTy. On her blonde head she wore a set of large ears in the shape of a cats. On her beautiful behind extended a prehensile tail somehow! The whackey tail kept flirting with Serge, who responded in kind. For footgear she wore thigh high shiny black seven league boots. John felt those boots complimented her shapely legs rather well. The other female personnel at the estab-lishment were attired very similarly. It might be added here that as near as Badmoon could discern, there didnt seem to be any male employees other than Karl, the maitred. The shapely little sex kitten purred saucily at John and introduced herself as Kyra Whatll it be, boys? Ill have my usual ham, pastrami, liver-wurst, olive loaf, lettuce, tomato, honey mustard, mayo, thousand island sauce WOODDAG sandwichOh, and Kyra, please hold the thin slice of muenster cheese. I was gurgletwitchin like no tomorrow the last time I had a dagger. Thanks, Cherpy. smiled Serge. And you, NoBullman, what will you have? sighed Kyra. Badmoon looked at the menu finely after ogling the server. He stumbled on the writ-ten Tonguelish. Iuhmmmmughaww sheesh just forget it! Clearly embarrassed at his own lack of reading ability, John nearly ran out the door of The Chicanery. He would have made it too, except for one thing Serge called Badmoons name. As John turned to look back at Serge and Kyra, he ran right smack dab into The Most Stunning Woman hed ever be likely to meet (Honest n for truly!). John knocked the NoBullWoman off her feet. She fell into a great big soup ball containing several flies among the pea soup. Badmoon quite shaken by the incident, apologized til he was blue in the face. Ob-viously that wasnt enough. The golden red tressed High Born Laedi kept swearing Sacra Bleu! and Damn Yankee! These words appeared to be foreign to Badmoon.
33

When he attempted to further soothe the womans temper, wiser heads prevailed. Serge drew John away from the incensed NoBullWoman. Serge then turned to the annoyed woman to smooth things over. A few minutes passed and this interlude gave Badmoon a chance to observe The Laedi. Once again noticing her golden red wavy shoulder length hair, John looked upon her countenance. She had a fair complexion but was be freckled, too. When not expressing the darker side of herself, her light brows seemed constantly quizzical. Her nearly translucent light grey eyes flared angrily whenever she glanced from Serge toward John. Of her finely shaped nose, what more could be said? From her petite ears depended earrings of a peculiar pentacle design. Her white halter top failed to hide the ample charms within. The womans genuine bigsnake skin belt had several used red army pouches attached to it. J.B. could only hazard a guess as to what was con-tained within those pouches. The buckle appeared to be pure trumanium. The Laedis left thigh high leather black skirt could not hide the shapeliness of her long legs. On her sweet feet--in Badmoons opine, anyway--she wore stylish but durable calf high narrow thronged sandals. All of this, John took in at a glance, trained as he was in woodcraft. The taming of the shrew apparently done, Serge left the woman still sputtering, to her own devices. With a great big grin and hearty chuckle, Serge came to John. Beside himself with laughter the Moor slapped Badmoon on the back and collapsed in their booth. Whats so funny?! demanded John. Oh, nothingjust a private joke between me, myself and I. Besides youll find out soon enough. Now eat that slice of tomato I ordered for you with gusto, for its the last thing youll eat for a week! Haw! Haw! Haw! Meanwhile, in the murky little alley in back of The Chicanery Hmmmm, Dont these Qarthagenians EVER throw anything tasty out?! mused Smith to himself. Not very likely, Msieur Chat! said a strangely accented voice from out of nothingness. Huhn? WHO Said THAT?! Stop reading my thoughts! Nosey creep whomever you are! Spoke an indignant A. (for Aurealius) Smith. So with THAT said and done The Cat continued sniffing about the garbage cans in the alley. Surveying this scene with great care and curiosity was a magpie. Perched as he was some several stories above the Great Cat, The Bird preened himself and then flew off. Smith thought nothing of the magpie and went on about his business. Dismissing the incident with the interloping voice in his head, The Cat prayed (in HIS Feline way, natch!) and preyed for a fat juicy little baby ratlin to fall his way. Nosing just around the curve of a beat up old garbage can, Smith came upon two spiders debating the culinary delights of domestic flies as opposed to those of a foreign strain. Seeing that it was none of his affair, The Cat quietly backed away. Minutes later he joined John and Serge just as the big Moor was finishing his desert of razzleberry dressing with a flamb of honey mustard sauce. Yum!
34

.so you see, John, Serge was saying, every single person here in The Im-perium has, is and will pay their dues to the betterment of Life. I still dont get it, Serge. said a befuddled Badmoon. Old Boy, its actually quite simple. The Qarthagenians Imperium does not own any slaves, indentured servants, serfs or any other form of esteem killing drudgery. Doubts started to rise in Johns head. Gaining the courage to ask, what he felt was a pointed question, J.B. spoke his peace Then how does all the toil get done? Even in Cankerberrah Hollah we have some form of servitude. Prisoners and suchlike, taken in raids do a lot of the manual laboring. Please explain some more of this grand system. John, Im getting real proud of you. Not only is your Tonguelish greatly improving, but your thinking is levels above what it was. Anyway back to your query. Let me explain about THIS Imperiums conception of modern time keepingGiven that there are twenty four hours in a day. Seven days a week so on and so forth. Of those twenty four hours a person generally spends their time in thirds. A time to sleep, a time for work, a time for leisure and relaxation. Most of us agents do our penance in various sundry positions. Take Kyra or even Karl. They are a team of two. Most of our operatives work in teams of two to seven. Any larger than THAT, The Family AsAre has found the teams get mismanaged very easily. During their waking moments Karl and Kyra are either working here or teaching subspace particle flowquackquacktechNObab-blegobbledegook....Nudge Nudge Wink Wink. By the way, they do THAT sub-quackbabble thing as a form of leisure and relaxation. The nudge- winkingIF theyre not doing it before bed or on the bed, they do it in the morningbut thats THEIR business, ya follah? If what youre saying is true then even people such as you and Uncle Owen clean toilets, too?! asked Badmoon incredul-ously. Exactimundo! You see, John, even as we converse Im spending my leisure third of my day, addressing your concerns. Incid-entally, the Qarthagenians have a convenient expression for saying the awkward phrase third of the day. Its referred to as this: FOOF. Foof and nothing more. Well its about time I got you back to your digs where you and your Cat will be staying So saying the trio then proceeded out the front doors of the restaurant. Serge hailed a taxi and five minutes later they settled down in the relative comfort of the vehicle. Serge then lit a stogie with his fulmination im-plement (Just kiddin!) er, rather, lighter. As the Moor fumbled with his tobac lighter, Smith groaned at the thought of such pleasant cigar smoke. Johnny, you and Smith will be holed up with me at Kookapah Towers for just tonight. Tomorrow I ship out to the cold countries. Dont fret. If I know your next mentor like I think I do, you wont have any housing problem for you or The Cat! and with that Serge gave Smith a great big stage wink. I wonder just what a mentor is? Guess Ill find out soon enough. And with such thoughts already fading from his pragmatic wit, Badmoon sank down in the plush cushions in the
35

passenger compartment of the taxi. About twenty minutes later, upon arriving at Kookapah Towers, the trio rose to the twenty fifth floor in the strange movable room that had previously brought them street level after the Clinchpoop had docked. Serge called the little room a levaton. Curiouser and Curiouser. Getting off the levaton they turned left. Slowing down at chamber number sixty three, the Moor peeked through a peephole set in the heavy maple door. DAMNYOUALLTOHELL! cried Serge in his best Harleton Ceston mock rage. Hah! Ill probably catch her when I get back from The Coldwastes. Our Lads, confused by his possible aberrant behavior, just quietly shadow boxed each other under the glare of a nearby chandelier. Serge then took the bearcats down to the corner several yards away. John began to see his surroundings more clearly. Instead of the opulence that he half expected to see, the hallway and its contents seemed a sham. By slyly touching the various objects placed before them, Badmoon discovered the untruth of it. The objects in question seemed made of a hard shiny substance. John decided to ask Serge about this material when the chance arose. After walking through several more hallways and turning many corners, they came at last to their destination. Ahhhh Good Ol sevenohfourdash-fivemy home away from home. Welcome to my parlor, Lads! said the Moor glee-fully. Through the threshold of the particle board door stepped the trio into the simple (!) but comfortable quarters of Serges Shangri-La. It was the size of a figurative shoe box but Serge called it home. It had but one room and a folding screen hid a tinkle booth when needed. A hammock suspended be-tween floor supports served as the Moors only comfort. The single candle of tallow set in a broken half of a clamshell was the only source of light. A crumbling cinder block was both hassock or chair--whatever your mood--and was set in a corner. A pile of week old dirty clothes of mostly threadbare materials looked inviting as a place to sleep. Encouraging Our Lads to make use of his pile, Serge blew out the candle, stubbed his small right toe and stepped on Smiths beautiful tail! RRRRRoooOOAAArrr! went the kitty. OOPS! Sorry! giggled Serge as he finally hit the hammock. Chapter THREE Serges alarm device--actually a rooster in the apartment next door, those darn Beverly Hillbillies!--went off promptly at dawn. Our Lads slept soundly through the clamor. Serge felt they needed their beauty sleep so he let them be. He laxly washed his himself from a basin tucked in a dark corner. Leaving John a note he felt J.B. could read--tacked to the inside of his door--he quietly left. Humming a happy tune of Sugar-Plum, Serge strode confidently toward his goal. Taking a levaton to the roof of Kickapoo Tower he then approached the grand airship Clinchpoop.
36

El Admiral Owen Gosselin was just coming off duty. Dressed in tattered rags and bare feet, Uncle Owen grinned widely. Saluting, they each gave a nudge nudge wink wink to each other Shes all yours. Shes ship shape and in Bristol fashion. Take good care of her. By the way, Sub Commander Serge, Ill expect the same cleansing of her from you when you get back from your mission. Carry on. Spoke The WON Id Man. Aye-aye, mon Capitan! so saying Serge The Large mounted the boarding ramp. Gazing at the graceful Clinchpoop as the mooring lines were slipped, Uncle Owen sighed wistfully. Oh, but to be sixty againthe lasses were fairand I with out a care he thought as he wearily drooped his one hundred sixty five year old body along. Gaining a levaton Uncle Owen pushed the third floor button. Soon he was shuffling homeward to his opulent digs. Apartment three-o-three awaited him as he rounded a corner. A moment later, Uncle Owen arrived home and gave a secret knock. Peals of delighted laughter could be heard from behind the door Daddys Home! sounded siren-like voices as Uncle Owen awaited the opening to his haven. Throwing open the oaken door, Uncle Owen boomed Ho-Ho-Ho! Springing from their various activities, seven sexy geishas greeted Uncle Owen. He fondled them. They fondled him. Not quite nudge-winking yet, Uncle Owen counted his blessings. He was thankful for having lived through enough infighting amongst the ranks. The higher the rank, the closer to the ground The NoBulls dwelt. The more really and for truly furnishings were on an ever descending scale. Gold, diamonds and real wood were just what they appeared to be. No particle board, card board ready mix fast food yummyyums here! No Siree, Bob, and I dont mean maybe! Uncle Owen let forth a great belch of gratisfaction. Thus clearing his thoughts, Uncle Owen anticipated the pleasure to momentarily to come and settled down to brass tacks. As the first vixen, a certain Cheri, soothed Uncle Owens troubles away, he suddenly realized that he wasnt tired anymore Smith awoke with a start. Where in blue blazes are we, by Phoustah?! thought the Great Cat. Well, Id better wake up sleeping beauty. So Smith proceeded first to lick Johns face. Then the wily galoot laid his stinky old tail across Badmoons ever open lax fully lazy snoring away to beat the band mouth Ooooh Suzanneahhh Jill wow Marie I pray thee continue GASP! SPUTTER! Awww geez Mom does I hafta go to school to-wait! Where the heck am I?! exclaimed John. With that rude awakening, Badmoon bolted upright on the stinky pile of clothes. Just what do you think youre doing Mister?! mocked J.B. in the best Tonguelish he could
37

muster. Upon hearing how stupid he sounded, John winked at Smith. That caused them both to go into fits of laughter. After a few minutes they calmed down and John saw the note on Serges door. Mustering up his brain cells as best he could, Badmoon read the note G.ogototo about forty five minutes later and quite proud of himself, J.B. had the letter deciphered. Listen to this, Smith! I can read, thanks to all that time weve spent with Serge! Heres whats on the note: Go to room sixty three when you wake up. Later Dudes, Serge-Nudge, nudge, wink, winkPretty good cipherin, huh? boasted John. John, youre the greatest! But Im gettin kinda hungry right now. meowed the Cat. Yeah, me, toosniffsniffWhats that smell? asked Badmoon. Dont you remember where we slept last night? Right on top of Serges laundry! Pee You! rumbled Smith. Deodorizing themselves as best they could with the Moors pet, Chia, the twain plotted their next move. Serges pet was the current quickly fading rage of all of Qarthdom. Our Lads simply were non-plussed as to why a grown man--a part-icularly HUGE one t boot--would be so taken with an inanimate objects ability to fascinate and capture the buying publics imagination. Perhaps it was frenzy envy. Maybe the folk here were so filthy rich that they spent their daze in some sort of feeding frenzy, like the mythical sharks in The Ocean of which Badmoon and Smith had never seen. At best, the bearcats of the real world of Yargolan, where ones wits were severely challenged every minute of every day with the sheer acts of surviving, chalked it up to the machinations of this Imperiums Princes of Mullah. So after twenty minutes of debating this incredulous enigma, J.B. won the argu-ment. Securing Serges chamber, B. an S. headed for the mysteries of Room Sixty Three. The dynamic duo retraced their steps of the previous night--Smiths greatly en-hanced smeller helping to a very large degree, there--and got lost several times. Going up to the nearest occupant of their current hallway Uh, excuse us, pleasecould you please give us directions to Room Sixty Three?! asked John. The unarmed female just stared stonily into space. Badmoon tried again Pardon me, MLaedi. Could you give us directions to Room sixty Three? getting rather vexed, John was about to say some-thing rude. Luckily Smith intervened John! You chowder head! Youre talking to a statue! Bah! rumbled The Cat. But she looked so real thought Badmoon sheepishly as they slunk down the hall. Noting that the hall furnishings got less as they traveled, J.B. stopped and thought Hmmmanah, Serge told me the lower the number, the less junk in the hall. Theres not much stuff around here now. We must be gettin close. With that, Badmoon relied once again on his pals superior sense of smell to gain a more accurate way of travel in the dark complex of Kickapoo Towers. Slowly they crept forward. Going down the very same hallway of which Our Laedi of Marble had absolutely refused them solace, about two hundred feet, there on a corner unit was the number Sixty Three! Nervously they tip toed forth to the authentic but tastefully varnished maple door. John, courage in hand, knocked firmly three
38

timesKnockKnock.Knock! Come on in, the doors unlocked said a fetchingly familiar voice. Trusting soul, in this day and age thought J.B. as he and The Cat crossed the threshold. The person that had invited them in had her back turned to Our Lads. Thus positioned that way, Badmoon took note of her fine form. She had a white terry cloth towel wrapped around her head. A dark emerald green towel covered her torso and just barely left her shapely behind to Johns already over active imagination. Her well formed legs and petite bare feet belonged to a goddess. There was but one thing she lacked, thought John in his ignorance. Her skin was very pale. She needed a tan was Badmoons opine. Paying no mind to this scene of domestic bliss, Smith scanned the well lit comfortable room. Ahah thought he. I thought I smel-led home cookin when we were in the hall. It smells just like the tuna casserole Johns Ma used t make. Hmmm, I also smell Norskovkorsk meatballs! I hope J.B. gets t know this Laedi and doesnt screw up! Fat city here we come! And then the woman turned around..! YOU! she screamed! AAARRRGGGHHH! said he. What had made John so ascared was be-cause the creature had a horrible neon blue mud mask all over her kisser. Other than that, Badmoon felt she looked quite fet-ching. He especially liked the part where the emerald towel ALMOST fell off. Sigh thought John. Merde! Filthy Yankee cochon! How dare you lust after me! Get out! She shrieked. It was then that Badmoon recognized her lilting voice. It was the same woman he bumped into at The Chicanery! Yikes! thought J.B. as he bolted for the door. John didnt stop til he reached the bottom of Kickapoo Towers. With that attained he let out a sigh and leaned against a bordering wall. As his panting breath slowed down, Badmoon noticed his surroundings. The wall was made of real stone. That surprised John; for in this topsy turvy town a person couldnt be sure of anythingThe wall had a nice professional look to it. He thought of the days of his youth spent with Pa looking for just the right stones made many a weary day go by swiftly. Badmoon reflected upon the craftsmanship of this stone wall and knew his Pa had done better than these masons had. Vacantly whistling a happy tune, he wondered where The Cat was. It was then that a crow cawed oh, so quietly from the top of a nearby maple tree Smith, meanwhile, was back at the enraged womans apartment. Padding over to the food heating on her stove, he spoke Hey, Babe, whatcha got cookin onna stove? It smells real good. Can I have some? Huhn, can I have some?! Huhn?! oo said that? Come out whayrr ayvair you are! Beware! I ave a black belt in the
39

ancient art of Bixada thus stated the woman. Mmmeeeeeooowwww purred the con artist Cat. Alors! The bad man damn Yankee left is pussycat beind. Poor baby. spoke she. Now, if youll just scratch behind my left ear, everything will be peachy dandy! said Smith. Sacre Bleu! A talking chat! exclaimed the woman, quite taken aback. How novelle! You must be lonely for other pussycats, eh Msieur Chat? Actually, there are quite a number of us Great Cats. We roam The Great Barrens of Yargolan. Now about that lunch hinted Smith. You mean my tuna casserole with cream of mushrooms? You might find my Norskovkorskish meatballs are quite tasty, too. But enough of cookingJust oo are you, my fine pretty? asked the briefly clad woman. As Smith introduced himself he took in with a practiced eye his surroundings. A resplendent but unmade water bed was centrally located. The headboard was au-thentic teak. At the foot of the bed was a chest with a great padlock. The Cat knew he was in the presence of a pirate by that chest! Yikes and Wowie at the same time! Off to one side--on a stand--was a crystal ball. Along one wall was a beautiful bow window. One of the screen-less panes was open. Below the window was a long low row of books filled with eldritch, arcane lore. At the other end of the bookshelf was a box. The box was made of that shiny hard stuff they saw in the upper hallways. On the front of the box it was glass and--most wondrous of all!--had moving pictures and sound! Phoustah! As for the kitchen, there was a freezerator, like in the better homes back in Yargolan. A metal sink and a gas stove completed the womans apartment ensemble. Just then a great black crow flew through the open windowbut previous to doing that, the bird held an interesting con-versation with Badmoon. It went something like this And just why are you so appy, you great big smelly popinjay!?! telepathed the crow. Wh-whos there?! squeaked John. tis I, and me, the one and only Korby Stinqfethur! At your service! beamed the bird. It took Badmoon several minutes but he finally located the source of the voice. It was a fastidious crow many feet above John in an ancient maple tree. John then thought to Korby a request to get closer. Seconds later the crow swooped down just inches from Badmoon. Both were now quite comfortable on the wall. Wow! A talkin bird! Well, why not? I spose if some other critters speak, why not birds, too thought John. M sieur, I assure you that, I, The Grand Marshal to Thee Archmage of La Claire, erself do not talk!I read thoughts! Ahfret not my Yankee confrere, your ead is as free of any thought as like a bebes behind is smooth! Besides I can only get generalities not specific details. Your common little secrets are safe within your eart. and with that all said and done the pompous magpie flew up to an awaiting window. Overblown road kill! And theres that queer term Yankee again. Wonder what it means? with that thought Badmoon took out from his tunic pocket a stogie butt that was a fresh cigar that Serge had given him some time before. After lighting it, John puffed contentedly. But he still wondered where Smith had gone to. Ah, hell show up he thought idly. J.B.s belly growled
40

but he knew he couldnt eat for one week. The Moor had forbidden such a luxury. The slice of tomato he had last night sure seemed puny then! Badmoon would give a NoBullMans ransom right now for even half a walnut A few minutes later Smith pranced down the cement stairs of the building where Badmoon was then. Coming over to where John was on the wall, he spoke Well, Boykid, are ya ready to meet your next instructor? Badmoon, ever so sensitive, looked up at the cloudless azure skyHe looked down and around at the bustling cityHe scratched his noseHe ground out his cherootand put it back in his pocketHe OHFERCRYINOUTLOUD!!! Answer ME! roared The Cat. Huh? You talkin t me? Because if you arent who you be talkin to? So you must be talkin t me! said John. WAAAAAAKKKKKEEE UP!! screamed Smith. OkayOkayOkaaay! and with that the twain sauntered back into Kookapah Towers. Luckily Smith left scratch marks as a trail to follow and about an hour and a half later they found their way back to Room Sixty Three. After being received somewhat better by the woman this time, she bade them to make themselves comfortable. Badmoon sat down on the bed and prompt-ly fell backwards at once. He unwittingly fell victim to her waterbed. The woman bent over double with laughter. John turned as red as her hair. Smith yawned at such tri-viality. Only the crow, in the corner, kept his emotions in check. Korby Stinqfethur was there to protect his Mistress in ways that only his kind could fathomand the ways of this particular man seemed to disturb him to say the least. Why are you damn Yankees so stupid and clumsy?! asked the woman. By now, instead of being so briefly clad as she was before, she wore a soft homespun gown. It was white and gathered at the waist by a dark blue cord. The v cut opening at her elegant neck did little to hide the clea-vage of her obvious charms. The blue mud mask she had worn when J.B. got ascared was gone. The soft pale freckled face be-spoke of great mirth. Her hazel eyes hid a cunning intellect years beyond that of an average person. Of her hair, what can be said except that it was red with shoulder length curls past counting and continued down to the middle of her back. She wore it loose and comfortable. Her sleeveless robe was bordered with a narrow staggered band of blue. On her upper right arm was a band of silver with that of a knot work design etched into it. On her left forearm, a beaten copper band was held. Her elegant long legs were concealed by the length of her attire. Her petite feet could move with a dancers grace thought Badmoon. Whatever do you mean, MLaedi? And pray thee tell me what is a Damn Yank-ee?! said John after adapting to the water-beds motion. He smelled the aroma of her cuisine and tried stifling the demands of his belly in deference to Serges command. The woman, noting his gaze, walked over to her stove. Dawdling with her kitchen imple-ments she introduced herself I am presently called Yony Maihermaboni. I was born, this time around, in Noveau Gaul thirty
41

three years ago. On my home time line, this sphere we dwell on here is called Oyt. There is only one true place, as Serge has probably told you. Our planet has many, many names: ERIDU, Earth, Urth, Oyt, Terra, Jord , Midgaard and Kielendh to name but a few. The privilege of finding ones genuinely true home in the cosmos is the realization of all people, all the time. There are as many realities as there are people who believe in them. As to your questions about your behavior when weve previously met, let me tell you a little about my Oyts version of your countrymen. Your continent of Yargolan is known on my sphere as Vinland. It was settled by Norsk explorers four thousand years ago .My folk, The Keltoi of Gaul, colonized the wild nor-thern barrens and deep forests of what would become known as Noveau Gaul. What you call Oh!Kanadah! All this oc-curred roughly five hundred years in the past Badmoon wondered if shed ever shut-up. AnywayAnd the reason I thought you were a Yankee was because down through the centuries the natives of Vinland became known as Yankees in honor of a patriot hero of theirs named Johan Kees. In every typical way this Johan Kees represented boorish manners, vulgarity and general tactlessness. His only saving grace and skill was that he never seemed to back down from any and all comers. No matter how big the opposition was. You seemed to fit the bill and so Im stuck guiding my Yargolan Yankee through the many phases of AsArean agentry. rambled Yony. Talk about Yony Fullabaloney thought John. Lying down on the bed Badmoon pon-dered his next question. Gazing out the bay window, John asked Yony just what made The Masters of Time and Space choose you and how did you become involved with this particular AsAre? And, I thought you just said that this con-tinent of Vinland, with Noveau Gaul to the north, was colonized four thousand years ago. Are you telling me that the great barrens and deep forests of the Oh! Kanadah! of your Oyt were uninhabited until you Keltoi came along merely five hundred years ago? Very good, Johnny! At least now your realizing and putting into words the facts of whatever current realities that youre faced with! As to your pointed questionsin my native realm I am known as a spaewoman or spell caster-shaman, if you will Among The Keltoi such people are held in high esteem. However, in the land of Vin-land, south of Noveau Gaul, such arcane powers are an abomination in the eyes of their over civilized patriarchs. One of their secret societies known simply as U, after years of spreading dissent in native Vinland, marauded north into my locale of Noveau Gaul. Among the indig-enous folk inhabiting Noveau Gaul--The Mowhanks, The Quois, Salimash and so many others-- I had become something of a legend for my healing skills. The Patriarchs of U knew that if any one person could stir up rebellion amidst the native Redbones of The Barrens, that person would be me. So, with danger in the air and threats all around growing, I took the only action I felt was safe for all concerned. Escaping with barely my life and my est-eemed confrere, Korby, we fled into the deepest forest. There I found a crack in an ancient manmade mound. I lit the inside of the small chamber within the mound with a spell of luminescence. There on one of the walls I faced was a long series of glyphs. Luckily for me they were an ancient form of Keltic runes that with some effort I could decipher... spoke the
42

verbose Laedi. By that time Badmoon had stopped counting sheep and the sound of logs being sawed could loudly be heard. Still Mistress Red tress droned on and on. and so with the enchantment finally canted, Korby and I materialized on this ackbassward world. As for your lessons in this part of your discipline, it will mostly show you the spiritual side of your agentry. Msieur JohnJohn! Ooh you damn Yankee! Wake up, you stupid canard! begged the beauteous Yony, fulla baloney. Going to her kitchen sink and turning the cold water on, Yony filled a pot from a cabinet. Tip toeing elegantly to her bed, she then poured the pot of water on Badmoons head. Unbeknownst to the wench, John had woken but moments before. It was with rare nerves of steel that J.B. calmly braced him-self as the water hit his head. Seeing that the water had no effect on her dormant guest, Yony stormed back to her kitchen just ten feet away. Taking from a cabinet drawer a hefty meat tenderizer, she smiled slyly and wickedly to herself. She then saucily approached Badmoon. John, ever so cun-ningly, slit open his eyes. Just in Time! While the vivacious tart was raising the hammer above his headJohn leaped up and grabbed her. Colliding with her on the ever quaking waterbed, they embraced each otherand kissed profuselyamong other things as well. Chewing face and swapping spit for several long intervals, they finally came up for air. Ugh! Body odor! thought she. Yikes! Bad breath! thought he. What the hell! said both and they went and continued sucking various and sundry parts of each others flesh. While romance bloomed between the human couple, The Cat and Crow eyed each other suspiciously. Smith licked his chops and began to stalk. The bird, no stranger to danger, started squawking. The raucous noise just created brought the impassioned pair of John and Yony back to reality. Gasping for breath man and wife--Oops! Getting a little ahead, sorry!-er, woman took the situation in at a glance. Aurealieaus Smith! Im surprised at you! Dont you know better?! In the vagabonds code of The Junior Posse Scouts Trail Guidebook it states: When man and feline are travel mates, the eating of birds, except road kills, is strictly forbidden up to six months passed St. Swithins Dei. Need I say more?! Bad kitty, bad bad. Say Yony, do you have a rolled up newspaper around here somewhere? so saying Badmoon gave Smith a great big stage wink. Smith, taken quite aback at hearing his secret name spoken aloud, sought to crawl in a corner. He coulda died! The bird, however, haughtily strutted to the window. Gazing about the room regally he spoke to his audience in a macabre tone I, Msieur Korby Stinqfethur, will not have my feelings disregarded so lightly! Harumph! and with that said and done, he hopped out the bay window and flew into the twilight air. Both John and Yony looked deeply into each others eyes and simultaneously said
43

Why stop now?! falling then into a gentle embrace, they laughed together. A while later Smith grew bored and wandered about the cozy apartment. Going to the bathroom, The Cat saw The Throne. Sniffing around the lid, he saw that the cover was up. Wow! This is paradise! he thought. Sticking his head in the bowl, kitty lapped to his hearts content. With his face in the water, Smith soaked up a lot of liquid. At last slaking his thirst, The Cat padded silently over to where Badmoon and gal were cooing. With her elegant legs draped over the edge of her bed and her attention on John, Yony failed to notice Smith. Pressing his great wet head on her lower legs, amazement and astonishment all the way through wonderment struck Yony! Manger d lard! Stupid pussy kat! Yuck! Johnny, Ill be right back. so saying the Imperatress got up to wipe her legs. Yony, maybe my fat Cat and I should be leaving spoke Badmoon anxiously. Mais non, mo cher... where will you go? You have no place to stay. The only other person you know, besides the absent Serge, is AmirEl Gosselin, your uncle. Yet, Im quite sure he has other concerns right now. So please reconsider and stay hereas long as you like. urged the red tressed one. Upon hearing her encouraging words, John sighed with relief But THEN, IS something burning?! he asked. Sacre Bleu! Chalice! Excuse me, please! with that the tart went to take care of her burnt offerings of tuna casserole and Norskovkorsk meatballs. Barely saving the food in time, minutes later Yony called Our Lads to dinner. Hungrily eyeing the delicious looking grub, J.B.s mouth began to water. The meal was served in typical AsArean fashionon the floor, in front of The Box. About to reach for some meatballs, John was very sternly warned THAT is NOT for You, mo cher. Remember The Moors order: No food for a week! All this food is for your grand chat, Msieur Smith. Here THIS small glass of brine is just right for you. giggled Une Grande Chef d Tete Rouge. So there they sat gathered round The Box. Badmoon was about to ask what the device was for when dingalingalingcracklesputter. Hels Belles! What is THAT thing?! he quiveringly questioned. Shhhh, my oafish one. Wait and see. She then gave The Box a hardy swat and it sprung into life! Its that merde sucking subspace frequency regenerator! I need to have it replaced soon enough. Ahhh, very good, Beauteous YonyI see our new disciple is with you. said Uncle Owens voice. Badmoon was dumb struck! (hah!) There on the front of this bulky black box was Uncle Owen! Howd he get in there?! In his now void like belly, John could feel some mighty big whopping
44

gurgletwitchin about to happen! Hey! Ive gotta use the bathroom! Okay, but dont forget to use the fan. His Gal lyrically lilted. Chortling with the on-screen image of Uncle Owen, Yony asked Did Johnny always have such a nervous stomach? If this continues, perhaps we should consider another candidate, Owen. Not to worry, ma petite cheri, Johnny is his own worst enemy. Out in the barrens of Yargolan hes faced far worse dangers than hell ever have to encounter where were sending him to. Of the dangers, what were they? When John was younger he had a yen to be a bard. He had been married for several years, with children. Taking his accountable responsibilities as serious as they demanded to be, did not quell his hunger for bardship. His memory, of which being a bard is so important, was beyond phenomenal. John could recite the whole history of the kin hold. The Heroes and the consequences of their deeds. Sort of like a living memory. And all this eloquence not by rote, either! When John spoke of The Burning of Njal, of Wayland forging Albion or of how Kickaha schemed The Treasure from Beelzebub, well he spoke of these legends with such passions that it was as if he actually lived his stories. A bard of such magnitude comes along but once in a generation. said Uncle Owen. So what appened? Why isnt e a famous bard? asked Yony sincerely. As you may or may not know, I, too, have been a bard in my day. In one of my guises I taught John the rudiments of bardship. He was brilliant to say the least. However, the pressures of everyday life brought on by the duties of family and work, after a time, shat-tered Johns mind. After being tagged insane by Yargolan Doctors, with a straight jacket impound, he was cast out into The Barrens. I might add Yony (fulla ba-loney) that this is in accordance with Yargolan Law. Those barbarians judge all undesirables the same way. The wards at the Barrensborder freed him from his straight jacket and hastily bid Johnny adieu. Hearing the toilet flush, Uncle Owen and Yony quickly switched to arnutt. Listening to their now rapid speech reminded Bad-moon of a coupla frogs belching. Ahh, these civilized folk and their queer tongue. thought John bemusedly. Anyway Johnny survived as best he could in the terror ridden deeps of The Barrens for many years. Several years ago he came upon a brood of Great Cats. One in particular caught Johnnys eye. They impressed and became imprinted with each other so much that theyre bonded still today. You became acquainted with Johnnys bud, Smith, a few days ago. spoke Uncle Owen. I see you have a special fondness for your nephew. I find that refreshing considering all the aloofness among fellow AsAreans. said she of the long legs. Thats true. I just dont wish to see an-other spirit crushed. You know the old saying we Hubbubers (sort of a society of continuum Shepards) have When you kill the dream, you kill the man. Well Im here to see to it that Johnny gets another chance.
45

Badmoon sat down next to Yony on her bed U-uncle O-owen, howd you get in that box?! he asked incredulously. Relax, John. Im not in the box at all. Im really just a few floors above you. Ill try to keep this simple for you. Johnny this device were talking with is what we Hubbubbers call a comp. The term comp is Hubbub slang for Comprehensive-Computerized-communications device. In the other whens of the different AsArean continuums there may be two way wrist TV, or even tricord-ers, but here in the Agency we have the comp. This mechanism serves a multitude of functions. Primarily the main purpose is to maintain a direct link with other planetary base installations and our field agents known as STARS. You look thunderstruck, Johnny. What do you say we call it a day? Ill contact you later. Ta Ta for now. To say Badmoon was spellbound would be putting it mildly. Even as Uncle Owen winked out of transmission, J.B. looked slack jawed at the screen. Johnny, snap out of it! Its only the comp! laughed Yony. Smith, meanwhile, padded up to John and licked his face. Feeling the Great Cats barbed sand paper -like pink tongue on his cheeks brought Badmoon back to awareness M-m-my Uncle and you are as Gods and Goddesses! Is this The Volholl?! Have I died and youre a Valkyrae? I must be dead, for I dont even feel the urge to purge. Im-agineThe Dead dont gurgle twitch! and so saying Badmoon slumped back against the foot of the bed. Johnny, Ive got just the idea to bring you around. Computer-Open channel D! spoke his galpal. Minutes later a great space battle could be seen on the comps view screen This is Captain Sean-Lou Popdard of the P.S.S. CERBOFURZ. I order you dastardly Kahledreans to surrender or fall under fire from our main blazer banks. Comply or Die! On the view screen of the comp was a big handsome fellow of powerful physique and noble bearing. W-whats this? Whats going on? asked J.B. I thought this old rerun of Space Drek: Diaz Whine would perk your interest. The big hunk on screen is far more than an actor. Hes an agent of The Family AsAre. We call those special operatives STARS. His current name is Ernst Schmartfakir. This show is actually a representation of a pro-bable otherwhen in The Continuum of As-Are. spoke Yony. STARS? Show? Actor? sayeth John. Let me explain. In your backward country of Yargolan, you have the Punch and Judy man who comes around every couple of months, right, Johnny? Yeah, so what? THAT you see before you is a form of Punch and Judy. It is a form of make believe. Yony spoke soothingly. Whats that have to do with acting and whats a STAR? And what happened to your accent? Badmoon observed dryly. Last things first. It is true that I come from Noveau Gaul. It is also true that I am a mimic, that fact you may not have been aware of. There is far more to being a Hu-Bubber Agent of The Family AsAre than meets the I, mo Cher. To be an actor you must possess the ability to make your au-dience suspend their belief in the logic of local reality. To be a STAR you must be a superior performer as an AsArean agent or whatever the entertainment buying public defines as a STAR. You mean that you can disguise your voice and such like? said John.
46

I can do that and so much more. spoke the red tressed one. The trick to it all, no matter what you do, is to be true to yourself. And to be true to yourself requires a solid background in spirituality. Johnny, as a syple, you will have to discover for your own self just what you consider personally important Truths in regard to you. To do that requires discipline as a syple. I am here only to guide you in these mattersBut enough of these concernsLets watch the comp a while before bed. One of my fav-orite episodes of Becharmed is coming on. Its the one where Daryls ears grow bigger every time he lies. Ha Ha, its very droll! Settling back comfortably on Yonys waterbed, the couple began watching the comp. Smith was not allowed on the bed for fear that his claws would rip the bed and spring a leak. Instead The Cat reposed at the foot of the bed on the floor, near the pirate chest. A few minutes went by and Korby, the crow, came coasting back in through Yonys open window. Smith eyed the bird rather hungrily. Fortunately for Korby he was perched on the headboard near Yonys noggin. Just as the story got to the part where Daryl has to hide his ever increasing ears under a bee keepers helmet, the comp snowed out! Damn! Damn! Damn! Stinking cable! shouted Yony. Huh? Whats wrong, ma Cheri? Its that lousy stinkin pointy-eared Vulgarean cable company! They think theyve cornered the Continuum on the cable market! Oooooh! It makes me sooo mad! Why are you so emotional all the time? You seem to loose control at the twirl of a tail Badmoon said. It is because I am impassioned with Life. To loose oneself in a given direction creates a certain magick. That magick so created can demand perfection. If that perfection is disturbed, all hell breaks loose and my bal-ance is gone. Some people have their choice of poison when it comes to restoring their balance. For some, alcohol or various drugs offer solace. For me, my poison is Love. sighed the lassie. And my poison, what would that be? asked John. Your situation is different from other people. Johnny, you have an imbalanced brain, so that it affects your mind, if you will. Your brain lacks certain elements found in some forms of salt. Without this chemical known on this world as brine, you may tend to go insane by local standards of decorum. Your uncle tells me this has occurred at previous times in the past. Your so-called poison then is brine. Speaking of which, it is time you had a glass of it. You used a word that Im not that familiar withwhats a mind? asked J.B. The peoples of The Continuum of The Family AsAre use , for them, a more proper term to describe the thought process some quaintly refer to as The Mind. The term is Wit or wisdom. Wisdom is simply gained through applied knowledge. The Mind is somewhat more unclear as to exact define-tion. The Mind is a song that you Hear in Your Head and wont go away. Or its like being hurt or insulted and your mind wont shut the incident out. There are many more instances which can illustrate The Mind but Im quite sure you get my point by now. Go drink your brine now and well go to bedtogether, mo Cher. spake Yony. There IS a Volholl after all! thought Badmoon giddily. Chapter FOUR I have but one request of you before we turn in. Please take a shower and clean up. You should shave, too. Your whiskers are giving me, as the Redbones of Noveau Gaul say, shalo-wee-ee47

koo-poos, which by the by, means Skin Rash. And after youre done brushing your teeth, floss them, too. Youll find a robe hanging up behind the bathroom door. The Temptress of Red Tress said. Who died and left HER the head cheese?! J.B. snorted under his breath. Did YOU say something, mo Cher? From in the commode John fumbled in the shower. Yeah, I said something alright! How in blue blazes do you turn the plumb-ing on, ma Cheri? Just say computer. When the comp re-sponds, tell it what temperature you wish the water to be. For instance, if you wish it to be a boring tepid affair just say Earl Grey, sev-enty degrees Use your imagination, my great big Yankee stud. she laughed. Finally getting the hang of it, Badmoon played around with the shower controls via the comp. From a rather cool shade of Jean- Luc to the fever pitching and bitching of Big Jimmy--as in JAMES T. KIRK-- John ran the gamut with glee. At last with skin like a prune, he quit showering. Finding the neon pink robe fit him to a t, Badmoon stepped forth all cleansed in body at least, never mind his mind! Seconds later, he stepped forth and stood before his gal pal. Who are you?! And what have you done to my Johnny?! Yony said in mock surprise. Grabbing the lass with gusto, she and he flopped onto the trembling waterbed. And then proceeded to nudge wink. They rubbed, squealed and cooed, but seeing how this is a tale for ALL ages, Ill just let your over ac-tive imaginations do the work for me, ya pervs! But I digressthe romancing lasted for a spell and Smith, used to Badmoons nightly noise while sleeping, stirred nary a whisker by The Pirate Chest. Professing undying, eternal, immortal and unequivocal love an lust for each other, the lovers fell asleep. A few hours later J.B., while in a light slum-ber, began to hear strange noises in the chamber Beeep*Beeeep*Burzzz*Dweezle among other queer sounds were coming from the box called comp. Reaching over to gently waken his galpal, Badmoon was puzzled. Where had she gone to? Sitting up he saw her there on the floor in front of the ma-chine. Fidlin round with some doohickey, Yony seemed totally enthralled with what was on the screen in front of her. Hey Cherpah, what in Sam Hill are you doing? said John. Getting no response from his cherry pie, Yony, Badmoon gently shook her shoulder. Hunh?! W-wha appened? Yony said groggily Dont ask me, cause sweet tatter pah, I sure dont know! On the comp is a distraction from the otherwhen of Earth called a video game. This particular game is fairly simple and is known as Pack Rat. These forms of games represent just one way the other or Olkyn seek to dominate all of creation. These types of games if played without balance can cause an addiction of sorts. All things, if a person becomes obsessed with them, can lead to imbalance scuse me tater pah, but what the heck is an Olkyn? spoke a befuddled J.B.
48

The word Olkyn in the tongue of our adversaries means old kind, the supposed original master species of The Continuum. Let me show you a picture of an olkyn. It was High Moon and The Witchin Hour to boot so RedTress was dressed--or really Ill say undressed--in a very alluring man-ner. Telling the computer to make the necessary adjustments, Yony looked at John and gave a saucy wink. Badmoon, ever quick for a little lust, reached for one red silk covered breast. Uh-Uh-Uh, I can see your Yankee noodle is over active enough, mo Cher!.. Look! The comp has our image ready! she teased. There on the screen before them was a visage ofofthe most banal, boring individual John had ever seen in his middle aged life. The little girl may have been boring but she was also cute. She had great big brown eyes, a head full of shiny black hair. She was seated in a yellow high chair. Crawling about her shoulders was a great white rat. The rat seemed to be a pet. As her mother fed her pabulum, she played with the rat. You m-mean that that cute lil girl is the horrible for I have to fear? I know that when little girls grow up they can turn into awful bixesbut, hmmm, perhaps this little girl could be a boss some day. spoke Badmoon. NO! You Great Big Lunk head! We women already rule The Continuum! What my sisters and I dont like is others trying to get a piece of our action! Yony mock raged. What others are you talking about? All I saw was a little girl being fed by her mother and her petratyou mean the rat is an Olkyn?! asked J.B. Give that man a cigar! Oui, mo cher, that tape was taken twenty years ago. The little girl, under the tutelage of The Olkyn, has risen in power and is now Supreme Paynen-denex of the other- when of Howcum Four. Yony purred. Yawning with great exaggeration Badmoon hinted that it was time for some shut eye. Yes, my great pumpkin, I guess youre right. After all its High Moon, The Vixing Hour. The best time for some loving lust. Its right after the Joanie Carlson Show,' too. Nudge winking for a bit, they both soon were in a deep sleep. The Cat, getting quite restless, was finally able to--now that the love birds were asleep--able to lap from The Throne in the bathroom. Now content, he circled around his own self and Cat-napped. Yonys avian confrere, Korby, had dreams of wild abandon chasing down kit-tens and drowning them in a river thrown bag. Yikes! Promptly at four a.m. the comp set off a klaxon loud enough to hear among Helas own hoard What the expletive deleted?! Whyd you wake us up so early? I was just gettin to the good part, y know, where they roast St. Swithin over coals and happily apply the special Thousand Isle mustard sauce Badmoon said. Oh, how you do carry on, my sweet. Yony giggled. But enough of the chit chat. For your spirit to be fit, you also must have a fit body. So for the next several hours were going to do
49

STAR making cal-isthenics. Now heres a great big mug of Big Jim Brine--the best brand available for hero worshippers everywhere--warmed of course to get you going. As for me, Ill have my usual bowl of oatmeal with maple syrup, brown sugar and a stick of butter. After suffering through breakfast and dressing accordingly, they left Kookapah Towers. Yony dressed in a tight faded scarlet tank top and thigh high faded em-erald green short shorts, led the way. Stri-ving to keep up with the lassie was proving to be chore for John. His attire was a neon pink snow parka, underneath which was a dark blue lumberjack shirt. For pants he had on too tight knickers of a brilliant teal color in a linsey-woolsey material. Trudging along in heavy duty hiking boots (untied and three sizes too big, the current rage among the younger set in Qarth), Badmoon looked like Little Red Riding Jerk. As he swerved out of balance upon occasion every few minutes, J.B. cursed the bix and all her kin for five generations. Hurry up, my great big dullard! We only have a half a mile to go. teased the tart, a thousand feet ahead of John. Smith, who trotted beside Badmoon, spoke softly to him.as Korby flew overhead. John, dont put yourself through this torture and up on a cross again. Who needs it?! It wont even be remembered five min-utes from nowWhat say you n I quit this crazy burg and head out yonder?! I-I puff, c-cant do puff itIowe... a debtt-to someone gasped John. The Cat, stunned by Johns expression of integrity spoke unbelievinglyJohn, who could you possibly owe that much to make you go through with this? I mean, look at you! Youre sweating like a pig. Youre scratching your legs every other minute. And the time not spent scratching your legs is spent falling on your face and wiping it up afterwards! Wake up, boykid and smell the coffee! Shocked at his friends frank converse, Badmoon numbly swayed where he was. Never before in their love for one another had they come to this edge Im truly sorry, my brother, but Im compelled to do see this through. with glistening eyes, John turned and continued with his struggle. Okay, ol friendif thats the way it is, fine. But I cant bear to continue to watch you in anguish anymore. Im going back to the towers. spoke Smith. Greatly saddened by The Cats seeming lack of faith in him, Badmoon scuffled along toward Yony. Footbyagonizingfoot the road wore onandon. Over and over in his head The Great Cats words stung the truth. Badmoons mind reeled with the psychic pain. After several minutes of self pity, a glimmer of resolve snuck into his thoughts. After a spell, it be-came far more than a glimmer! It was a star of will and intent! With posture erect and head held high, John spiral danced along the road. The Sun; up in the azure sky beat down mightily on this lone jackass. How dare the impudent manling defy ME! But John heeded the heat of the Sun, not! With the realization of his mission, J.B. strode on About twenty five minutes later, John saw Yony casually resting under an oak tree by the side
50

of the road. He wearily approached her, with worry about what sort of sordid ba-loney Yony might pull next to test him with. She called out to him Hey! My big apple strudel, come join me?! Demon Bix!! was all John could muster. What ever are you spouting about, mo cher?! The very first trial is over! The first whack of The Hammer forging your future is over--for now--giggle. But beware: The Anvil of Life stands ever anew to test you before your final Rite of The SABRE she spake. Just what in blue blazes are you squawk-ing about now?! Badmoon mustered as best he could in a rather brazen fashion. Come away with me from Boylon for a few minutes. There is a stream nearby. You can discard those horrible clothes Did you say Boylon...? If I get rid of my clothes what will I wear? Boylon is that great way we all must travel. Be it a lonely little game trail or a thronging Los Angeles--Earth--highway. Its all in your head, mo Cher, its all in your head. Yony spoke quizzically. What about my clothes?! Ahhh, ever the prude, I see. I guess thats what happens when you come from a Ackbass-ward land like Yargolan, eh?We shall see, we shall see.. She teased. And stop repeating yourself; do you take me for a ninny? Badmoon roared. The answer to that is self evident, mo tete d pomme de terre! Arriving at the stream, Yony quickly helped Badmoon out of his clothes. Taking a bar of aloe soap from her butt-bag, she gave it to John. As he lathered up in the water, Yony unclothed herself also I can tell youre very happy to see me, mo grand homme, but for one week, no sex between us, COMPRI?!!! What IS this, some kind of game?! You STARS really have a bizarre sense of hu-mor! First, no food. Then, no fun. I suppose next I cant smoke my tobaack?! John whined. As to your smokingDont press your luck. Now finish bathing, weve got work to do! commanded Yony. While Badmoon continued lathering up, Yony drew from her butt-bag a curious little device. She then switched it on and made a fluid motion over Johns clothing. The wee, queer tool made a droning sound while in operation. Having done that, Yony put the device back where it belonged. The lassie then pulled out of the other side pocket of her bag a pair of rose colored spectacles. The eye glasses had small head phones attached to them. Ooooh my Johnny, are you ready to redress now? cooed Yony. Yeah, yeah Im ready. Good! But first you must put these special eye wear on. She handed the rose colored spectacles to her man and then said. Very well, now that you have them on, you must promise me not to take them off until we get back home, compris?! Swearing unyielding fealty to Yony and her off spring for ten generations, Badmoon thought he looked just as good as The Gov-ernator. Casting a gaze about his new attire, he then spoke
51

Aint these green paisley bellbottoms show?! And hows about this faded red work shirt? Its boss! These sandals seemed to have been made just for me! Laedi Red Tress had a hard time suppressing a royal knee slapper as she knew that as long as Badmoon kept the vanity eye wear on and the positive thinking tapes kept playing through the head set, he wouldnt know that he had put his torture suit back on. A bit later, after leaving the babbling brook and regaining The Road Boylon, the duet enjoyed the fresh air as they walked How come, Yony, other than we two, there are no other people alive and about? Dont be silly! You mean you dont know that its the eighth week after Swithins Cost? Qarthagenians take their holy days very seriously. said Yony. I had absolutely no idear that St. Swithin was such a world wide phenom phenomyou know thing! J.B. bungled. Oh, indeed it is! But there is one thing I hope you can tell me. Not being natives to this otherwhen, before we arrived here sev-eral years ago, neither Korby nor myself had ever heard of St. Swithin. Could you please tell me how this holy day came to be? she soothed. The legends told by the wise ones say it all began just about two thousand years ago. It was during the time of a world war. In this particular age of chaos, the great powers of Urth sought dominion over all of creation. The powers of men back then were en-ormous. Great land machines called trundles and tundros. Air machines called arrow-plants with rocketsredglares. The myths tell that they even had--I shudder to even speak of it!...Turniphaters!-- way back in those hellish times. Badmoon, now at last in his element said. Mesmerized by J.B.s droning cant, the lass felt herself drawn into Johns tale there the arrowplant was flying over restricted airspace above the east coast of Yargolan. Hey, wait just a darn minute, Johnny! exclaimed Yony. What arrowplant? Why, the one I just told you about, lunk head! It was the one carrying the load of beauty contestants, several of which were impregnated by that arch villain, Danold Rudy Blitzen! Now pay attention, will ya?! Badmoon said sternly. Ooops! Ssssorry! So, anyhowlets see, where was I, ahhh yes. The great powers unleashed their I.C.-B.M.s with their payloads of halluhalluyknow, drugs. Ya ever hear that childrens song about it? J.B. asked. No, but Im quite sure Im about to, so if you hum a few bars Ill just join right in. chuckled the tart. Everybody loves a comedienne! Ready? Ahone ahtwoahthree: .And the Rocketsredglares, The missiles bursting all year Gave proof to the might-y as they Hunted the bear What a virtuoso! beamed curly locks. A what?! Dont swear at me! spoke Badmoon. So the dusts of delusion, from the
52

bombarding missiles, hit the arrowplant the beauties were on. Dan Blitzen, agent for several of the ladies, and all aboard got a real quick mind rape. The pilots, so con-fused because of what was happening, start-ed to loose control. Something about pink elephant in a purple haze. So down the arrowplant went into a crash dive among the awesome wilderness of the Callhoolaminka Mountains. It went in just south of the Kawinqeetink River. Blitzen, knowing their fate, struggled into the cockpit. He slapped one of the pilots around just enough to bring him to his de-teriorating senses. The arrowplant thus under semi-control careened into a mountain valley AND then teased Yony. Barely alive amid the wreckage of their flying machine, Danold R. Blitzen was pulled from the cockpit by several other survivors of the crash. Still grappling with the mists of mania, the lost souls counted their losses. Luckily all the women who were pregnant were whole and healthy. Lets rest a moment, mo Cher. she panted. They both then sat down on a nearby roadside stone as Badmoon went on Legend has it that there was a singing nun and a hawkeyed young mowhank doctor on board the craft. One of the mothers to be, a devout Winchellite in fact, was due in a very few short weeks. A few days had gone by and the crash survivors were starting to very hungry. At that point in the history of the Yargolanese, they were a far more civilized folk than they are currently today. Then they knew not the ways of woodcraft we present vipers of the wilds take for granted. Realizing that he was dying, Blitzen offered his body, his flesh, his life to the assemblage. How could they refuse?! As he prepared for his death, Blitzens last thoughts may have been of his fathers farm or his mothers home cooking. But who can say truly what one anothers last thoughts are? The Winchellite woman told him that shed pray for him and called him a saint. How Dan R. Blitzen died isnt so impor-tante. Its what he died for that has meaning to most of us now alive in Yargolan. Later, after Blitzen committed the prerequisite suicide so that the others could live and she had received her portion of his flesh, the Winchellite woman--a certain Mara--spoke the now holy words of The Saints Within us! With the advent of their now permanently altered brains by the bombs of chaos, down the generations of survivors children have slurred the sacred words into St. Swithinso there you have it. Butbut, mo Cher... How does the story end? Laedi Redtress asked. Cmon weve been sitting here long enough Badmoon said. Rising from where they were, they continued down Boylon. Flying high overhead flew the Laedis mysterious confrere, Korby. As to what happened to the crash survivorsa few months later they were rescued by a celebrity journalist looking for sales of tabloid news tales. said J.B. Strolling further upon the road, John turned to Yony Time went on, and the legend of Blitzen had spread to even this corner of the Urth, and the folk stay inside on St. Swithins Dei so they wont get caught and eaten like good ol Dan R.
53

Blitzen, correct? It appears so. Stated Yony, while she yawned. Just why havent we been caught yet? Because, my dearest of lunkheads, the people of this particular otherwhen are color conscious folk. We simply are wearing pro-tective colors. The red and green that make up a STARs outfit are a symbol or a warning if you prefer. For some the color red means passion. Those that wear this color find that it helps keep them stimulated and excitable. There are other otherwhen where red is considered a warriors color. It is one of the ever boundless pigments of Life Eternal. And what about the green we wear? asked J.B. Ahhh, mo Cher, I was just getting to that. The color green for some STARS rep-resents the opposite of the red of pas-sionand that is the green of control. Again, for some, green can be a soothing hue of growth. It, too, is a color of Life. spake she. As they were getting closer to the burg, they noticed darkening clouds. With Koo-kapah Towers just a few thousand feet away, it started pouring like crazy. Racing each other the rest of the way--with Korby in hot pursuit--they gained the Towers. There on the steps before them was one great big wet hairball SMITH! cried Badmoon! JOHN! purred The Cat as he rubbed against John. Seconds later all the Companeiros headed up to cubicle Sixty-Three and Yonys home cooking. Chapter FIVE Tell me my boon bro, just why you arent snug as a bug in a rug somewhere. said Badmoon as they all plumbed the depths of the Towers. Take a good look at me, idiot! With all paws and no hands, does it look like I can open doors?! spoke an irritated Smith. Enough, enough boys! Johnny just forgets at times that youre not human. Chalk it all up to your sterling personality, mo gran chat! chimed Yony. Rounding a rather dark, scary sorta shadowy and gloomy macabre kinna corner Yony exclaimed Ahh hah! Home sweet home! Welcome to my parlor said thewell you know the rest! Im taking a shower first! cried John. NOYou are NOT! I AM! bossed Yony. Why because??! whined Badmoon. Because IM a LAEDI and while men think they rule this world, Laedis and women own it, THATs why! So go and suck an egg, my dearest of poopsies! Upon opening her door to the domicile, she then headed straight to her linen closet. John noted that the towel Yony had grabbed had a Welcome to Asbury Park,, N.J. Yony then flung it to Badmoon and said Please wipe your Cat down and yourself--in THAT order--for I wont have you two dripping all over my fine Pirzin carpet.
54

As he wiped Smith down, John wondered just where in the known Continuum Ash-bury Park was. Done with wiping his pal, J.B. then proceeded with himself. As he did so, all thought of malice towards Yony fled his feeble minded ways. Activating the comp, Badmoon saw that one of his favorite dramatic stories was being enfolded on-screen. It seemed to be about all manner of twisted degeneracy and passion. Being sponsored by most of the soap major com-panies, he thought it must be a fairly clean type of show. Ho hum thought John as he fell into a snooze while waiting for Yony (fulla baloney) to get out of the shower. Oliversudden! Eeeeekk-Merde de Beouf!! Johnny, hand me my towel now! screamed Yony. Not until you say Mother may I and please Go to Hell! she roared. Not even a single please? John, the damn McCoy unit has started to whine again. You know how THAT is even in ackbassward Yargolan, Im quite sure! Yony stated. Please call a plumber now Badmoon then spoke to the comp Computer, call the nearest and most com-petent plumbers. Coming onscreen after the prerequisite five minute holding pattern of piped in music, was a pair of likely looking gents. One was fat with thick white hair and he wore eye glasses. The other guy was skinny and bald. They hailed as Criscoe and Egbert: Private Plumbing A.S.A.P.! Yony, my honey, the comp says theyll be here in about twenty minutes. Ya better put some togs on. John said. Okay, youll find my sweats third drawer down. Rummaging through her bureau, Badmoon finally after lingering and fingering Yonys ungeries for about five minutes, came to the right drawer. Pulling out an olive drab T shirt and peach colored sweats, John brought the togs to his petite Cheri. He then began to pace as was his wont when lost in the vagaries of his mind. Noting, too, that Smith was also rather restless, he then asked his boon feline companiero about it Smiths reply was thus: It causes me the greatest of physical pains to see you fall under your own illusion of people failing to acknowledge your sacrifices or wha-tever these supposed uncaring folk around here would uncaringly call it. We ALL go beyond the extra mile once in a while, ol chum, so get over it! THAT, I certainly can appreciate. However, it would be nice to get a gold star once in a while, too. Yes, how true, ol chumbut those certainly do NOT pay the bills, do they?! The Cat said. Yeah, I know they dont. But it would be nice all the same. J.B. said. What, so you could be put on a pedestal? Or yet even worse, so that all those little whiners alive and about that dont even dare to pull themselves out of the crap of their own making could call upon you and watch with nasty glee in their eyes as you have yet another break down, no matter the way The Killer put thusly as a break through?
55

Ahhh, lets just drop it for now. Im fin-ally starting see to your point. I feel being among the so-called chosen as STARS weve got more than a full plate as it is. Im quite sure that if Uncle Owen felt we werent up to the challenges of our world changing agenda, he wouldnt have even bothered rescuing us from the Skootch Rewdstirs, right compadre? Allayed now of Badmoons brief spell of a bleak mood, Smith promptly fell into a deep sleep, or what past for one among feline kind. Korby, also relaxed and preened him-self on a nearby perch. Just as John, who had returned to his walkin the quarter deck as he put his pacing, was done making his forty fifth pass along Yonys braided rug, the intercom buzzed. Yes, who is it? said Badmoon is his best womans voice. Tis us, Criscoe and Egbert, at your ser-vice. spoke a chortling voice. After buzzing the security door of Kookapah Towers, John heard them approaching Yonys home. How come other folk can find ma Cheris place so easily and I cant. he pondered. KNOCK-KNOCK-KNOCK Ah, do come in gentlemen spoke Badmoon. Barely squeezing through the door came Egbert. After pushing, huffing, and puffing his partner through the door, Criscoe fo-llowed. Thats funny, thought J.B. ...theyre bigger in reel life. Yony, in all her glory, then appeared from the bathroom. Even with the salt encrusted T shirt and sweats--though washed in the latest of bleaches for cleaning, which still hadnt removed some of her personal crud--she still looked marvelous, thought Bad-moon. Maam, what seems to be the problem? chortled Egbert. That darn manger d lard McCoy control valve has started to whine once again. Just as the water temperature was reaching a soothing Tiberius, the same ol whine of JIMHESDEAD! can be heard! ex-claimed an irate Yony. Sounds like well have to use the ol spockometer on it. Not to worry, Mam we sure wont leave you folks as cold as a picard. said Criscoe. Meanwhile still stinky from his afternoon frolic, Badmoon sat back on the bed. He just loved listening to professionals talk their technobabble Yknow Joe, this is the third time this month weve been to this otherwhen. stated Egbert. I know, Rob. said Criscoe, But it does present some lucrative possibilities. The only thing I dont like is filling the tank on our vehicle every time we come here Ya, I know. That high octane gozinta juice is getting to be pretty expensive. spoke Rob. Weve got to watch out for pan dimensional hooligans, though. On the way here I think at that last Dinkum Doghnuts shop, one of our muffler bearings was stolen And that just about does it, Miss. Might I suggest you purchase, from us perhaps, one of the new sisko units? No water while cleansing, just a whole lot of mild air with temperature somewhere between jean-luc and Big Jimheres your bill. You know where to send it. Oh, and by the way, those are holiday ratesah ah ah, remember its the eighth week after Swithins
56

Cost. Gnight now and so saying the two pirates scuttled Yonys craft and stalked other victims. BY Hernes Horns! Those men have rob-bed me again! Johnny boy, Ill have your butt for breakfast! Yony stormed. What-what-but-who stammered John. Thence Yony proceeded with the rest of her shower. Meanwhile J.B. took out one of her ungies and put it on The Cat. Upon awakening Smith was not amused. Then it was Badmoons turn to take his shower, after which he felt quite comfortable. Yony put his torture suit in the main semmbler in the kitchen. A few minutes later and out came some new clothes for Johnny. Naked and dripping on the bath-room floor, Badmoon asked Yony why they needed clothes at all since they werent going anywhere. Because knowing ourselves as we do, carnal desire could arise between us. As a syple you must master discipline in order to pass The Rite of The Sabre spoke Yony mysteriously. What is this Rite of The Sabre? Something we all must do in our own fashion. That is enough for now. Get dress-ed, its almost supper time. she said. Donning his new knee length green and red plaid kilt, J.B. felt renewed at last. Then he spoke of something that had been on his mind as of late Where do all my clothes come from? I only had on what I came with yesterday. Opening up a can of cat food and putting it in the semmbler, Yony replied. Do you see how these headphones Im using are attach-ed to this techno box? This particular techno box is called a semmbler. You put in it the basic matter of whatever it is you wish. For instance, I wish to give Smith a great big juicy gopher. I then, use the phones to focus my thoughts into the machine and a few minutes later a gopher appears. The semm-bler assembles then resembles the basic particles of a given object. Ok, that works with clothes and food. What about tools and suchlike? Clothes have to come from cloth, wood from wood and so on and so forth. Johnny, youd be surprised at what youre actually wearing! twinkled Yony. So then Badmoons little entourage settled down and watched a little comp during supper, or as Badmoon put it, My brine Time. As they watched, enrapt in some more of this particular Otherwhens version of high drama, an ad caught Johns eye Look, Yony honey, theres an ad about a movie coming on tonight. Its about a guy that needs a left-handed smoke shifter to complete work on a job hes doing. He looks around several parts stores and cant find it. His boss says hes getting obsessed with it. Thats all they show. Can we watch it? Not tonight, hon. You have to get up early for a test tomorrow. Tomorrow is your first task toward STARDOM. Besides Ive been throughOOPS! I mean Ive seen that story before. said the red tressed one. What happens in the end to the guy? asked John.
57

Thats none of your business. You have to take it easy and not get caught up in any more of the Hollywood, Earth fantasies! Now finish your brine and go to sleep. Slipping into darkness, Badmoon had a strange dream about being wrapped up to his neck in type writer ribbon. The comps klaxon woke him promptly at six-thirty. Putting on a suit given to him by Yony, John felt like a new man. A white shirt with a brilliant big green tie, pink plaid tourists shorts with red argyles and black patent leather loafers completed Badmoons ensemble. How am I supposed to find this place, Yony? he asked. Dont worry, mo Cher, Im bringing you. Its only on the fortieth floor of this very building. I confirmed your position several days ago with an agent we have working there. Youll be working as a floor systems applicator and curator of clean-liness. This job will either teach you hum-ility or arrogance. All STARS-to-be have to do similar things. Now go and have a big glass of brine, I hear your belly grumbling. spoke Yony. As they rode in the levaton, John noticed how his gal was dressed. In a very pale light blue blouse over which was a white lab coat, Yony looked very business like. Her knee length navy blue dress hid her charming legs. The lass petite feet winked at sexuality in the red pumps she wore on them. Badmoon also noted the clipboard she held in her right hand. Aha, ma Cheri, I see youre working at Thee Sanctum tonight, arent you?! he exclaimed. It must be the way Im dressed. It gives it away every time! Those pimpled faced manic teens want their brain salads and cerebellum burgers all the time! Not to mention the mind quaking shakes. Im an assistant counselor there under the guid-ance of doctor Rory Ray Cahill. Hes a swell choke choke guy. Excuse me said fulla baloney Yony. BING They reached their destinationat The Hall of Records, where everything a Qarthegenian owns is licensed. Rumor had it that the nefarious government was looking into registering everything a Qarthegenian doesnt own, too! Yikes! Meanwhile, having been contacted by Uncle Owen, via the comp, Smith proceeded to the sub sub sub basement. Luckily for him, Uncle Owen told him that all doors were computer voice activated. To open a door, just say Sesame seed bun and it would open. Now romping ever downward Smith had visions of dining on plump rats, Yum, for such was his mission: RAT PATROL! Leaving the levaton at ground level and going to sub level three, The Cat padded softly through the dust and dirty grime of centuries old unkempt housekeeping in the eldritch darkness of Kookapah Towers. It must have been like this, living underground, during the time of the turnip- haters. Hanging with the guard dogs as they sniffed hands to be sure that whoever came through their posts were humansit must have been Hellish! thought Smith.
58

Shortly, but later he came to a thick oaken door just several feet from the main circuit junketry, er, rather, the main junction cir-cuitry. The fat Cat sniffed about Hmmmm, this spoor smells familiarbut I cant seem to place it SUDDENLY! Out of the corner of his eye, Smith thought he saw movement! Chasing his bug-a-boo, The Cat came to a dead end with nothing but a pile of ropes nearby. Cautiously Smith sniffed around THEN one of the ropes moved! Yikes! Im getting outta here! hissed The Cat. High tailing it from there, Smith real-ized why the spoor was so familiar. It was the smell of Ratlings! He rapidly approached the levaton door, and then screamed Se-same seed bun! as fast as he could! And true to its computerized core door, the door OPENED! (Fooled Ya, dint I?!) Whew! thought Smith I thought I was rat chow for sure! Just as the levaton lifted a coupla feet, a fierce howling & pounding on its door ensued. As the fur on his back rose the Cat prepared to do battle. Barely had the pounding stopped when ping -ping-ping, the levaton stopped at his destination. (PHEW!) Hurrying to get in touch with Uncle Owen, Smith arrived at number sixty-three. Then he gained the entrance to Yonys pad, and comped up Uncle Owen. Uncle Owen digested this news with aplomb and a greasy jelly stick, finishing his morning break. Tell-ing The Cat not to worry, he said he would take care of it and to stay put. Then he wink-ed out. Meanwhile Badmoon was introduced to his co-workers. All wore to certain degree the clownish clothing John had on. His foreman, Jim DStykk was a real nice guy. One fellow from Apple City, a certain Charlie Fewlya, was the joker of the bunch. The time then passed quickly for J.Bfrom dry and wet mopping the long halls of Kookapah Towers to buffing those same halls with battery powered floor buffing machines. All this type of work gave John time to thinkthink too much. So much seriousnessit was too much to handle. Once, while washing out a mop in a secluded custodial closet, Charlie and a coupla other guys came up and locked Badmoon in the closet. Furious at first, after a while John relaxed. Sitting on a barrel of cleaning chemicals he fell fast asleep.and dreamed of how Charlie had defended him once recentlyEarlier, while buffing the floor of a busy section of the Hall of Records, John and Charlie had put rubber bands on the handles of their machines, sort of like auto-pilots. They then could better watch all the fine, young female Qarthegenian flesh going about their business in the Hall of Records. Charlie had then called Badmoon over to share in the ooglement of some choice lass ass as John had walked away from his buffing machine; he failed to note
59

a man standing nearby The rubber band on the handle of his machine contracted which caused the machine to activate and swing around on its base on the floor... Which, being stationary (the floor could NOT move, BUT the buffing machine could, you see) caused the machine to swing around and hit the bystander in the groin! A much embarrassed Badmoon apologized profuselythe fellow, murder in his eyes, was ready to killluckily Crazy Charlie intervened and the lamed fellow backed off THEN a fierce banging on the closet door brought John back to awareness. Alright, already! I cant open the door, you have to! Okay Toejoe, just hold on while Ah finds de rahght key! said the masterful voice of Jim Dstykk. A few minutes later with J.B. outta the closet Hey, homeboy, theres a Laedi waiting for you down in section A. Shes says shes your momma. And she wants to you to hurry up or momma spank! Hyuck! Jim chortled. Arriving at section A, John found Yony standing there. Hurry up! she urged. Why? What happened? Ill tell you on the levaton! As the levaton shuttled them home Yony revealed to Badmoon what had happened I got a comp call from Uncle Owen. He sounded very nervous! He told me Smith found signs of Ratling activity way below ground level. I told Dr. Cahill I had to leave because something came up at home. Reluctantly he let me go. This emergency better be a good one now or Ill have to make up for it on a weekend shift! So I took a steamer across town and here I am. Dont worry about leaving work early, because your boss Jim DStykk is one of us. As they finally reached their destination, John felt his belly start to go a gurglin and a twitchin as the left the lift. Yony said open sesame seed bun on her door and it auto-matically opened for she felt at the moment that there wasnt enough time to use her keys. When the door opened Boy! Were they SURPRISED! There on the floor was a wounded Ratling! The Cat proudly stood over it, and pinned it down. Restrained as it was, the Ratling couldnt get away. There was a large gash along the left side and blood oozed profusely out of the wound. The Ratling lay dying as Yony finally spoke Sacre Bleu! What is that thing?! A foul Ratling! I didnt know these curs lived here in Qarthage. If these critters exist here, were in for a heap of trouble! stated John. I cccccuuurrrssse you hhhuuummmaannnsss! O issss ccccommmingggg! and with that the Ratl-ing gave his death rattle, shuttered and died LOOK! They all cried at once. For there the foul beasty was changing from its once roughly man-like form it changed into a fully formed human. My GAWD! I know that guy!! cried Badmoon.
60

Chapter SIX Huhn? Who is he? asked Yony. I just met him recentlyhis name is Charlie Fewlya. Imagine, ol Charlie is a skinwalker! spoke J.B. Awhat?! A man-beast. A critter that can change from human to whatever and back again. What do we do now? said John. Wed better contact Owen. Comp, open channel G! stated the red tressed One. The comp came on and showed Uncle Owens weary face on the screen. He then spoke Oui, ma petite Cheri, what is it? I think youd better get down here pronto! Yony said emphatically. Shortly, Uncle Owen arrived on the scene. After filling him on what had happened, Uncle Owen asked Badmoon So you couldnt tell he was a skin-walker until his death. Where were you when this Charlie Fewlya was chasing down your Cat? Daydreaming in a custodial closet that Charlie had locked me inso what else is new?! said John. The skin-walker must have used that time to sneak down to sub sub sub level three and spy. Not realizing anyone was around Charlie reverted to a more comfortable state. It must be a hellish existence! To live as both beast and man, with the qualities of both but without the realities of either. said Uncle Owen. So Owen is our base here in Qarth com-promised? asked Yony. No not yet. With Serge away in The Cold Wastes for a couple of more days, things will be a little more on edge. Once my Moor gets returns though, Im sure things will be fine. One things for sure, Uncle Owen, I aint goin down the tholar, er, cellar without an armed guard! said Johnny. Just THEN all the power went out! EEEK! O touched me?! screeched Yony. From all sides could be heard the lecherous giggles of Owen, Badmoon andThe Cat (?)! Damn! Now someones got to go down to the main junction circuitry and find out whats wrong! Id go but Im real ascared of the dark. winked Uncle Owen, to no one in par-icular. And I cant go because Ive got tim-pinnazation of thee right clavicle, ya, THATs the ticket! said Yony, truly full o baloney!
61

Well you all can count me out because Ive got a hang nail! spoke Smith. So, by process of elimination John was elected to go on a heros quest. Gurgletwitchin like Gramma Tillys beef stew, Badmoon asked Why me?! Because youre the only one dumb, idiotic, er rather brilliant, brave, wise etc. ad nausea to descend allll those steps to the dark, murky scary hell hall of sub sub sub level three! they all said. Did you say sub sub sub level three? Isnt that where Smith chased the skin-walker from? He must have rode a levaton cable to get up herecant I take the levaton to get where Im going? asked Badmoon. The only thing working is a gold plated napoo. But it, too is getting weaker by the minute as we stand here jawing with you about your accountable responsibilities and duties! Ill lend you my special magickal thingamaboob. To use it you just say the magick word Bingo!Then press the magick switch to the on position. And there you are nudged Yony to Uncle Owen. G-g-golly. was all John managed to mumble. Oh, heres also a special left handed crow bar to open all the doors! sayeth the red tressed bix. A bit later, equipped with his special crow bar and flashlight, John haltingly headed toward his goal. He reached the door to the stairwell that lead down to the sub-terranean depths and classic stygian dark-ness of all fantasy stories. Badmoon then pried open the rusty door with great effort. From up above the eldritch depths, John peered into the gloom of sub sub sub level three very nervously. Minutes later as he slumped ever toward bedrock J.B. paused H-huh, what was that?! he shakily asked. More than half tempted to give up on his quest, Badmoon steeled himself and drove on. John at last reached the main entrance to sub sub sub level three. Taking the magick left handed crow bar with both hands, he successfully wrenched open the centuries old rust tainted door. Bracing himself, John poked his head through and peered into the blackness. There but for the sparking cables of the main circuit junketry, er rather main junction circuitry was total darkness. So, grabbing his courage by the short hairs, Badmoon strode forth. Just as he was about to grab both sparking cables. WAIT! Ya dumb toe joe! growled a voice. Jumping out of his skin, J.B. nearly wet his pants. Ha-ha-hyuck! Its only me, Jim DStykk! What in blue blazes are you doin here?! exclaimed John. Watchin out fer my prize hoojy, thats all. said Jim. Now what?! Have I come all this way only to be burnt and shocked by these cables? Hex, no! Just use these magick rubber gloves! said Jim. What is it with you STARS? Everything has to be magick. asked John. Which would you rather have? The vulgarity of reality or the glory of illusion? Use your imagination once in awhile, butt-head! growled Jim, breaking out of cha-racter. Sensing this mentor was far more than he appeared to be, J.B. applied himself to the task at hand.
62

Meanwhile as Jim and Hotblood, er rather John were solving the classic main junc-tion circuitry scenario, up in Yonys flat the following took place well, ma petite Cheri Yony, I certainly dont like sitting around in the dark any more than the next guy said Uncle Owen. GUY?! Yony asked. Guy, its an old Earth term. Means the same as fellow. Anyway, Jim and John should be just about done by now if all goes according to schedule. said Owen. Do you think your nephew suspects anything? asked Yony. That all depends upon what youre referring to. Does he suspect the main junction circuitry problem is just a test of his courage? No, I dont think so. That guy doesnt have an ounce of mistrust in his soul. As to any other suspicions he might have, lets just wait and see. Smith, in the meantime, pretending to be asleep on the floor, took this whole conversation in. SUDDENLY! The lights came on and there on the floorthe Ratling was gone! Sonavabix! roared Uncle Owen. Whered that Ratling go?! Ha-ha-ha!! Here it is! chuckled Yony. I moved it a few minutes ago to the other side of the bed in the dark. You little vixen! If I were twenty years younger Then youd still be quite a bit older than I even though by AsArean standards youd only be middle aged! teased the bix. Just then John and Jim strode in from the dark, stygian depths of sub-sub-sub level three. Well, Jim, did Johnny have any trouble passing the test? asked Uncle Owen. Badmoon meanwhile stood there with thumb in bum and mind in neutral with his mouth all agape Whaddaya mean pass the test?! He exclaimed. John, your current boss from way up Tower is in reality a team mate of a group of STARS operating in this sector. Hes here on the lookout for unusual activities which might obstruct our business in this locale. spoke Owen. Shooflypieandapplepandowdy! Owen, I can surly see just where Hotblood gits his gift of the gab from! Anyway, Hotblood and Smith, thanks big time for flushing out that skin-walker, Charlie Fewlya. said Jim. One thing, Jim. Before Fewlya went and died on us without our permission, he men-tioned that a certain O was coming. Do you know anything about this? asked Yony. Dat be de foist Ahs hoid o it. said the Jimster. Meanwhile in Johns furtive little mind, he began putting two and three together and got minus nine?! Ma Cheri, when you told me of your origin last night, you mentioned some homies work-ing on your turf. They were known, according to you, simply as O. Could they be related? he asked. Im not too sure. We Hubbubers and Olkyn, to my present knowledge, are the only ones that know of pan-dimensional travel. Of course there are always the probabilities of exceptionsWAIT! O...Olkyn! Thats it! The Olkyn must have spread their poison to
63

this world, too! she exclaimed. That could be the very force behind all the current developments of gun powder, too. spoke Uncle Owen. As they mulled over this new situation, Jim quietly dismissed him-self Remember to be upstairs at eight oclock tomorrow morning, ToeJoe! A few minutes later things wound down and Uncle Owen, too, left for home. When his uncle was gone Badmoon asked Now what are we gonna do with Charlies body? I was thinking of making a stew or souffl with itOR you can shove it in the disinteburner! You decide, mo Cher. spoke Yony. Sheesh, I dunno. Its been a while since Ive had Ratling venison. Will it keep in the freezerator? Yony then said. I dont see why not. Nah, I just cant do it! This body was once somebody I knew. Besides, knowing Charlie, hed keep me on the toilet all night. Lets just burn the puppy! Johnny ex-claimed. Tresses of Red then asked Badmoon if anyone would miss Charlie If theres any kin of Charlie that might miss him, theyre long dead by now. Myth conceptions have it that skin-walkers live at least for a few hunnerd years. After disposing of Charlie in the disinter-burner Yony, John and Smith settled down for supper. Boy! Ma Cheri, you sure do make me some goooood brine! Just think in a few more days Ill regretfully have to back to solid food again. said J. B. Oh, dont worry, sweetie youll be drinking brine as a supplement to your diet for some time to come! Thus with his nutritional future gone to hell in a hand basket, Badmoon grumbled and activated the comp. The R-for Rhythm-station was on Oh goody! My favorite group, GRAYL is on! Dont ya love it when the lead singer, J. C. FoGoody wails on his harp sighed Yony. Finishing their hit single, Choogle Bait, GRAYL then segued into Vixens Lament. Both Johnny and Yony wouldve been mes-merized for a long time by the comp but for one factorJust out of the corner of his eye Badmoon saw The Cat slink toward the dark side of the chamber where Yonys bed was. Too late! J.B. knew at once the reason why his feline friend snuck awayCat Flatulence! As they reeled from the experience of being victims of one of Smiths olfactory bombs Somebody- gasp!-light a match! cried John. Id better open more windows! Bad kitty! Bad! Bad! exclaimed Yony. On into the evening Badmoon, Yony and Smith watched the various shows that were beamed from all the different AsAres. As Yony made herself a snack of four quarter pound cheeseburgers in the kitchen, John asked Ive told you of St. Swithin and you said youve never heard of him. Just what are your beliefs? I could simply say my own, but that would as rude as your own question con-cerning my
64

beliefs. So, instead Ill strive to be as concise as possible. We VIX live and die by but as few rules as necessary. Our Prime directive goes something like this: Do as You Will, BUT Harm NONE. We VIXEN have a belief that has a heritage common to all being with navels and other-wise as well. The Four attributes we VIX use as guide lines are thus: to Know, to Dare, to Will and to Keep Silent. To live as uncomplicated a life as possible in league with the ten thousand things of Creation is a goal every VIX, Male or Fe-male aspires to. Now shut up, mo Cher! A Stullski & Hootch marathon is coming on channel twenty seven. Seeing as how it was time for his brine, J.B. made his elixer extra frothy and very hot. Getting back on Yonys waterbed and leaning as comfortable as he could he noted that Korby hadnt been around in a while Where in Sam Hell has your bird been lately? First of all. said Yony. I dont own him. Like Smith is for you, hes my compatriot. Where he goes, I dont know. I think hes got a brood somewhere floating around out there. Now be quiet! My fave actor, Dave Sol, is about to speak some great pith! As the pasty faced comp star spoke his lines, Badmoon drifted off to Neverland The following couple of days went by without further incident. One afternoon Uncle Owen contacted Jim DStykk and asked if the body of Charlie Fewlya had yet to be recovered. As Badmoon arrived at where he worked upTower and saw Jim, he was spoken to about it Hotblood, your Uncle wants to know what you did with Charlies body. They want to take a few tests to determine what kind of critter he was. Taking the bull by the cubes John declared We put him in the burner and digitized him! OH MY GAWD! The poop is really gonna hit the fan when Owen finds out about this! exclaimed Jim. Maybe he wont have tofor Ive got a plan John said softly. Man, this guy is shaping up fast! Only a few days in The Hall of Records an hes already conniving like the best of em! thought Jim. When Badmoon got home that night, he put his plan into action. J.B. had Smith catch a nice plump rat. Putting the semmblers head phones on, Badmoon thus put the rat into the machine. Luckily for John that the sembler that Yony owned was the triple giant family economy size. He then began to think into the machine the resemblance of Charlie Fewlya. Chuggguinchugggingrootintootinsnortfeardyin went the old device. From out of its belching and smoking maw spewed forth the form of the skin-walker known as Charlie Fewlya. Damn! I sure made a mess of Yonys kitchen! Theres soot all over the place and it smells like scat. Id better clean up the joint before she comes home from work. spoke Badmoon. Smith, who had been in the main room snoozing, came in and asked John, howd your unman work out? Right fine as far as I can tell.Oh, by the way, thanks for pitchin in and draggin my butt outta the fire. Dinnada, ol pal! said Smith. The caper of the false unman drew to a close when a couple of special lab techs came and
65

carted Charlie away. As soon as Badmoon finished his enterprise, Yony came home bushed and beat. There was a package of about a foot long in her weary hands. I was just getting my mail and there was this leaning below my box against the wall. Its addressed to you, mo Cher. With his Cherpahs help, John was able to decipher the note attached to the cylindrical carton. It turned out to be from Uncle Owen. In the package was a simple wooden flute of a quite nondescript designor you might even say, lack thereof. This here note say that its a genuine heart-caller-flute. According to Uncle Owens note he says that only in all the wise cultures of the continuum of The Family AsAre only-those-in-theknow can fully appreciate its value. spoke J.B. Come play me a tune, my hero. said Yony. Having scant knowledge about playing musical instruments, because he was a vocal artist-- not an instrument player- -Badmoon made a half hearted attempt any way Nothing happened! No Sound! He tootled for several more timesBUT again, nothing happened. He turned to his Laedi Have you heard anything? Nope! was all she said. Well then kay then Ill just have to take it back to where Uncle Owen got it. It must be defective. The return address says its from Sinclairs. I know that place by heart, mo Cher. Its a positively huge pawn emporium where they take all kinds of loose screws and diverse nuts that you bring in and fix em up real right finely. From there they go and take these peculiar parts and make the most useful sorts of things out of them. Their motto is From Dross to Floss! Tomorrow is the weekend. Im scheduled to work the night shift. But Ill go with you to Sinclairs and we can have lunch together. spoke Yony, fullabalony. Can Smith come with? asked John. No, I strongly suggest that hed better not. They have a lot of fragile minds--OOPS!-- I mean parts there. The way your Cat moves around, he may break some hearts, er, parts there. As they relaxed into their evening routine, Badmoon and his companieros watched a little comp. One of Yonys all time fave westerns was coming on. It was called CIMMERON STRIPT, a tale about how that bearcat of heroes Marshall Jim Cronk and how he saved a divided mind, OOPS! er rather, land from marauding reavers. Just as the opening credits began rolling We interrupt this program for an important news bulletin: From the AsAre of Oyt, an extremely dangerous felon has escaped from the Yankee authorities of the government of Vinland. Netizens of all the AsAres across The Great Pandimensional Rift are strongly urged to use extreme cau-tion when traveling outside until his cap-ture. The felon, a Keltoi Mohank National-ist, goes by his current name of Lang Maqdub There on the comps screen appeared a likeness of Maqdub. Upon seeing the video, Yonys jaw dropped! Computer, freeze frame! commanded Yony. She then added. Print that!
66

J.B., clearly mystified by his cherpahs behavior, simply drank his brine in silence. Moments after the decrepit old device spewd forth the data and image that his Laedi had ordered. Yony then held it up to Badmoons face Oh My GAWD! It can not be! Johnny, go to the mirror in the commode and hold this photo up to your kisser. Obeying his galpal as had become his wont, John gawked at the image of Lang Maqdubh before him. Holy Scat! Thats my face! Except for the hairdo on that fella and my whiskers, we could be twins! he exclaimed. John, there is something that you must know about Lang. At one point in our sordid little lives we were lovers. That may very well be the reason I accepted you into my heart so easily. From now on whilst travel-ing OUTSIDE we have to be extremely careful. Beware, mo Cher, doppelgangers are everywhere! Yony cried. Pardon me, but what in blue blazes is a doppleganger? A persons double. Everyone one has at least one. Whether theyre of the Flesh, Heart or Mind, it doesnt matter. That sit-uation of where someone thinks they may be seeing double or even is reminded of some-one when they meet a stranger is caused when The AsAres interphase at times with each other. Maqdubhs Mohank hair style and lack of facial hair may disguise you for a little while. said Yony. Olliversudden! The regularly scheduled program came back on. Marshall Cronk was giving his galpal some lessons in Tonguelish when Mac, the barkeep, tapped him on the shoulder. Thus he said The El Dusterrrios Blanko from Middleville arrre back in town, Jim, an theyrrre a hankerrrrin forrrr yourrr hide! in his Scotchenwhiskey burr. Squintin real Heroic-like, Jim Cronk gravelly-voiced his reply. Yall ken go n tell them gorbellied milk livered pignuts in their fancy-shmancy white lab coats thet ol James Cronk aint a goin to Asylum Hill so lily livered easily! Come ere, Dullcie, an gimme a kiss! Our Gang of Badmoon, Yony and Smith lapped up this High Western Drama like flies on kahkah Soon enough, Saturday morning rolled around but they all slept in for a bit. After a brisk shower and shave, J.B. watched a little comp while waiting for Yony to finish get-ting dressed. On the tube in front of him was a kidvid show called MONIQUE MANN. It starred the voice of that WhirlDs renown thespian, Ernst Schmartfakir. This particular episode was about the time that Manny and his polar pal, DUMBTUSK The Walrus had started a little brush fire in their Sacred Place they had (as all children do, especially boykids!) and knew as BUFFALOE. Enraptured with the cartoon, Badmoon didnt hear Yony speaking to him. I said to turn that stupid garbage off and drink your brine so we can get going. Weve got to be at Sinclairs before I start my shift at that greasy spoon I work at for my penance. Now get moving, Mister! Howre we gonna get there? asked John. By klackety-klack. was the urbane reply. By what-what-but-who?! said J.B.
67

Mo Cher spoke The Lass Youll see when we get to the station. Now say good-bye to Smith because were leaving now. Taking the levaton to the street level, they then left the vicinity of Kookapah Towers. Badmoon observed to himself that this was the first time that he had left the Towers since their Hellwalk on Monday. Where is the klackety-klack station? he asked. Across the street and about half a block from here. Yony said. Watching his cherpah walk beside him, Badmoon appreciated the way she walked and how she looked. With her radiant red hair held back by a wide emerald green cloth band, her grey eyes, too, reflected the spark-ling mirth that lay just below the substratum of her persona. A bright scarlet bleep-me sweater did little to hide her curves under a dark green denim Western style jacket. A short teal colored skirt did much to show off her lithesome legs to her advantage. Her feet looked quite comfortable in soft light brown ankle boots. The Laedi, not wishing to attract any attention to John because of Lang Maqdubhs escape, dressed her man in a casual sort of way. Wearing a loose worn plaid flannel shirt under a fringed suede jacket, J.B. felt relaxed. His faded green denim jeans made him feel comfort that he thought he had lost since coming aboard the great airship, The Clinchpoop for what seemed to John, oh-so-long ago. His desert style moccasins seemed to him just made for his feet. Finally arriving at the station, the pair had a twenty minute wait fro their klackety-klack. As the vehicle arrived ultimately got to where they were, just chooglin away to beat the band, Badmoon was certainly not surprised by both Qarthegenian and AsArean technological eccentricities too much anymore. So, this is a great klackety-klack, eh, galpal? Oui, mo Cher. Impressive, mais-non? No, not really. My Pas moose, Ol Petunia can pull a load of scat a whole lot faster than this bucket of bolts. spoke the urbane Badmoon. Reaching their destination at long last at the other end of the city, the pair headed through the milling crowd. The twain then headed to Sinclairs Complaint Department. There they were told to fill out Form 36638030324-A in quadruplicate. The clerk, after receiving their completed form then went to the nearest round file with all due speed and dumped their form into its maw. The surly little clerk then told them to take a number and wait to be called. Luckily for them their number was twenty-four. The number now being served was three. Wake me when its time they each said to each other. At long last their number came up. Yony then asked to speak with the manager of the emporium. A few minutes later along came a short little middle aged fellow. He had a small pencil thin moustache and was dressed in a tuxedo. I am POP Zoapdish. How may I POP be of service POP to you? POP he spoke oh -soannoyingly. John thus explained to POP Zoapdish about the defective flute that Uncle Owen had sent him from this very establishment. I see POP, Msieur. Perhaps if we POP replace it another model? Concurring with the manager, Badmoon and Yony waited while another flute was brought
68

forth. With Zoapdishs permission, John tried tootling on this flute. While this particular flute was more fancy and shone like the moon reflecting the sun, it too, prod-uced no sound. Taking the flute from a rather perplexed Badmoons trembling hands, POP Zoapdish then spoke softly Msieur, I can show you one more model that we carry. POP Are you willing to POP try it outPOP? So, after having this last model brought forth from the dusty ol back stockroom, POP Zoapdish then gave it to J.B. to try but, alas, too with no positive results. Taking the cubes of Johns dilemma by the horns-so to speak-POP Zoapdish then said in a very quiet but reassuring way Perhaps, POP, Msieur, you do not yet realize that POP the best of music is often not played with an POP instrument at all. Then what is it played on or with? asked a by now even more perplexed and getting vexed Badmoon. THAT, mon ami, is POP up to You to discover. spoke Zoapdish mysteriously. So in order for J.B. not to hurt Uncle Owens feelings, John took back his original flute. They then headed for Yony s home. Later on in the afternoon, Laedi Maher-maboni went to her job as a counselor in The Sanctum, the fast food joint at which she was paying her penance as well as rent. Leaving her sweetie in the capable hands of Smith, Yony felt that Johnny would fare all right. As Badmoon and Smith relaxed in front of the comp, John sipped his nice cold brine. A new season of real catchy shows was being touted by the AsArean Beaming Comrades. There was one hour long dramedy that especially caught J.B.s eyes. It was called by the rather pretentious title of BY THE MIND DIVIDED and subtitled And The Truth United. The story concerned a wandering ZoLow monk caught up in the Immortal clash of Round-heads and Calvinists during the AsAre of Earths sixteen hundreds. The monks quest was to his lost sun--OOPS! Sooorrry! I Meant--son named SOL. Alas the name of the monk is never revealed and the plot of this WhirlDs spanning saga hinted that His name is quite common and might even be legion. On into the night the show played and the snores from both feline and human throats could be heard from Kookapah Towers to the far and distant (doncha Love redundancies?!) shores and steppes of Yargolan. Badmoon dreamed of wandering The Barrens Steppes barefoot and freebeing addressed by Master Pao as Cricket and chopping off other Immortals heads with a KTyan samurai blade When Yony came home from work she found her two little cherubs sound asleep. Commanding off the comp, she covered John up. She then went and took a brief shower. Soon enough even her snores could be heard even on her own Home Time Line of Oyt, Continuumingly Distant as far as the most distant STAR. The following day was Sunday. Uncle Owen called and said hed like to meet with John, alone. Uncle Owen arrived and said Well, Johnny, its been a week since both you and Smith have come to Kookapah To-wers. As a sort of celebration, were going for a walk. Chapter SEVEN Gaining ground level, J.B. and Uncle Owen ambled down The Road Boylon. To Badmoon the
69

road seemed strangely familiar. After a moments thought, he realized that it was the very same road upon which he traveled his hell trek six days before. At last now being able to warm up to his nephew, Uncle Owen spoke Johnny, I took you out here along the walls of this country road to discuss your doom, or fate, if you will. Ragnarok is at hand, son! Youd better get prepared for it! W-whats R-Raganarok, Uncle Owen?! The Ol Smoke n Fire of The Gods! THEIR Judgment Day! I took you out here because one does not talk of ones personal doom in front of non-kin. At times even the closest of friends cannot grasp the situation fully. When I was young, maybe in my twenties, I had an overwhelming desire for knowledge. At that time, I even tried emulating one of our Holds ancient kins Way of Self-knowledge. HIS name was Villy Ymrsson. He hung himself on a wind swept tree and wounded himself unto his left side. He fell into a dizzying swoon and hung there nights all of nine. After a time of unknown quantity, Villy gained Awareness and a form of Well Being, tooBUT at the cost of his humanity! exclaimed Uncle Owen, I, in my youth as I said, copied Villy. I wounded myself in my left eye with a sharpened shaft of a thrown away broom. Also, like Villy, I won Wisdom! I, also, in losing one eye, won another. My I now knew dead nuts The Acknowledgment of The Won True Reality. Letting his Uncle drone on as was his wont, Badmoon just then gazed up into the azure sky. SUDDENLY! Out of the corner of his right eye, John saw something! LOOK! Uncle Owen! he exclaimed. Yes, Johnny, thats also the other reason that Ive brought you out upon The Road. To view Serges arrival from The Cold WastesBut back to me and my ego spanning adventures of a misspent youth. You see, Johnny, not all are cut out to experience what those-in-the-know know as Ragnarok. It takes great personal sacrifice and will power to even dare go beyond the norms of common society. Among all the AsAres, most of the local populaces are completely naive and almost unaware of just what it takes to breach those walls of Dedication and get committed, if you know what I mean. Uncle Owen droned on and on. Every two thousand years or so, an avatar of sorts-if you will-is borne and at times even created by the extreme stress and pres-sure of an ignorant civilization. To that end, I have brought you out here to try to explain just why you are here by telling of my own personal history-but just a bit, mind youFor where would all the fun of HUB-BUB be without The Grand Mystery of it all, eh?! J.B. had by this time grown quite accustomed to letting his Uncle and all others he somehow knew superior to him-self, have their wont and ways about them. Thus he simply let Owen The Verbose prattle on... as I was saying, the days of my healing, after my self-inflicted wounding to somehow get knowledgeofied--as The Yargoleans put it--would have been quite boring with the exception of one fact. There was, at that time in The KinsHold, a certain wrangler or hand, if you will, by the name of Raynor. From time to time, Raynor would stop by to see how his Young Bahss--as he liked to call me--was healing. Almost when I was just about done with the healing process, he
70

came up to me one fine spring day and said: Young Bahss, jever drink yer own peess? At the time I was still somewhat in a state of shock because of my wounds, so I really didnt comprehend what Raynor was act-ually telling me. Time and tide, as well as tears wait for no man, so I, in my ignorant youth let that very strange remark, slide. It has been many years, but Ive since learned, at least to my own way of living, just what Raynor meant by that cryptic remark. I feel that you, too, my Johnny, have drunk your very own share of brine... Ahhh, never mind the insane ramblings of a somewhat old man. But there is just one more thing that may be even be of more paramount importance that that crazy Kareebeanhead, Raynor, had said to me: Young Bahss, Never Forget Where You Came From! Well, I do believe Ive spent enough time speechifying with my only remaining kin left alive and dont really wish to leave him with the memories of being bored half to death, so lets head back to Yonys place because its getting kind of brisk out here. Realizing that much of what Uncle Owen said was beyond his current comprehension, Badmoon shuffled besides his Uncle in be-numbed silence. Owen, noting this, tried striking up some foolish light talk about the poorly constructed walls of Qarthagenean Road work. But to no avail, for J.B. remained mum. A half hour later, they arriv-ed back at Yony s pad and were pleasantly surprised to see the very large girth of Serge once again making himself at home in her kitchen. Heeeeyyy Johnnny, ol bean! Its so good to see once more! Hey, guess what?! While I was away on my trip, I learned from the Inanouts Redbones from AwayupNorth a few new selfdefense tricks Id like to show you. Serge said quite enthusiastically. I know that youve been practicing your mar-tial skills, havent you or do I even have to dare to ask? No?! Well, thats quite alright because Im recruiting Yony to teach you the cube curling hair straightening martial art bar none called BIXADA! Go ahead and tell me what you think of THAT, Bucko! G-g-gulp was all Badmoon could manage to sputter. Noticing J.B. s quietude, Serge thus spoke softly Ahhhh, I see that Owen has given his famous Ragnarok speech to yet another young but intrepid fool, am I not wrong, Owen?! Oh cmon now! Am I that transparent?! Uncle Owen joked. Somehow John knew that Uncle Owen was not yet done in regard with his Myth Conceptions about Ragnarok. So, of course, The Dark Man thus continued Nephew, there are yet a couple of more points of pith to ponder before I let you off the hook in regard to just why we all here--even Smith--have considered you, of all folk, a WhirlD saver. As mentioned before a type of ransom must be paid, perhaps you might like to consider it some form of marker in this Cosmic Continuum Spanning game of worlds and Lives that we Hubbubbers just absolutely adore playing. On the AsAre of Earth, some two thousand years ago, a cer-tain Yesuare was their redeemer. Down the centuries since then, he has acquired a cer-tain cult-of-personality and became even more powerful than any incarnation of The Won could ever have possibly even been imagined. Are there or have there been other redeemers as well, Uncle Owen? asked J.B. where do I finally fit in this grand Punch and Judy show? And just

Be patient, my boy, Im getting to thatGreat Redeemers exist in all The AsAres and their
71

lives dont just occur in every two thousand year cycles, either. Folk refer to these redeemers as Heroes. Heroes such as William Tell, Joan DArc, Teo Bane, Ghandi, Red Cloud and Hiawatha to simply name but a very far few that have stood up to oppression and a darker side of their own lives. John, you have the potential, as does absolutely everyone else whos ever lived in all The AsAres, to realize the Re-demption of a souleven if its only your own. What-what-but-who? spoke Badmoon rather nervously. Just a trifle bit more of your precious time, though a long and adventurous life youll have IF you trod it The Correct Way. Every time a person is put in a situation that is beyond their prevention but guilt forces them to feel a sense of Duty or Respon-sibility and then, for instanceA parent physically abuses his child and something horrible happens as a result of such abuse. The parent--if they have a conscious at all--prays to his maker, in effect, stating that if only the child will be alright then the parent will stop abusing the childor stop smok-ingor stop drinkingor stop adulterating, etc. Whatever it takes to redeem or safe a lost soul. Uncle Owen said. Uncle Owen, what did all those people have in common? asked J.B. Whatever their beliefs were symbolized by Shield, by Cross, by Grail, by Pentagram, by Seal of Solomon or whatever the case may beit didnt matter. The only thing that really mattered to The Creator was the fact that these Redeemers or Heroes, if you will all had a common link. And that was the courage of conviction. Some were faced with great odds at the very least. Some even faced death-as they thought they knew it. Some even thought they faced Eternal damnation. However the case may be, The Creator must see these same WhirlD beat-ing qualities within you, John. Tsk, tsk, tsk-You men-All you eveer talk about is business! proclaimed Laedi Red-tress. Come. Serge, tell me and then show just what awesome giftings that you have brought to me! Badmoon noted that his galpal spoke that last utterance with just a slight touch of the SummArean God, Avarice in her lilt. Perhaps taking no heed to Yonys tone, the Moor spoke Whilst Away Upnorth amongst The InanOuts, I was pillaging--ooops, sorry!--investigating and negotiating for some rare relics and possible mineral deposits left over from The Big Rape of two thousand years ago. There upon a bashed in ol freezerator stuck out in the middle o nowhere was this! Serge then brought forth from his great coat pocket a small, but clearly not ruined by time, object. Holding it up to whom he thought was a sweetie pie, the lass thus exclaimed OOOH, Serge! A genuine freezerator magnet! And Look! It says: New Jerseys Got it! on it! You shouldnt have! Awww shucks! Twerent nothin! spoke the Moor, some what chagrinned I might add. I knew then and there that my sweet potater pah just had to have it! While I do appreciate the sentiments behind your actions, Serge, you must re-member that theres a new young GOD--Oops!--I mean STAR being groomed and brought along The Way by all here in this room. So with that in mind Im afraid I can no longer afford the time to trifle among the daisies with you too much. I truly do hope that you do understand, my Grand Omme! Yony spoke most affectionately toward her big companion. Oui, Jai compris! So then Serge cleared his throat, and thus continued John, Ill expect you and Yony at LaMont Park at ten a.m. sharp on the practice field! and with that said and
72

done, The Big Fellow left Yonys domicile and the company of his comrades in arms.at least til tomorrow morningScared ya dint I?! D-did I say something wrong, ma Cheri? asked J.B. plaintively. No, dont be concerned about it. This sort of thing has been going on between The All of Us long before any of we were currently bornand I also suspect that it will continue for some time to come as well. But tom-orrows a very big day. Besides looking forward to the martial exercises of tomorrow, you get to eat solid food once again, starting tonight, mo Grand Chef d Tete Platte! Tell me what you feel about that! After all it has been one week since you and I bumped into each other and The Moor restricted your diet. As Badmoon was about to speak on that issue, Uncle Owen--being The Being that HE Is-knew that it was time for him to leave. Thus taking -the-pebble-from-The-Masters-Hand, he quietly excused himself and left them to their own devices. At the mention of solid food once again, J.B.s mouth began to water. Pulling no punches as was his wont, he asked Yony C-can I eat now?! No, Im afraid not, mocher! she said softly. You have to wait til suppertime. Once you begin to realize and apply all that we--even Smith--have been and are , teaching you, then you wont be asking so many questions and can then fully rely on YourSelf for the Answers, nest-ce pas?! However, I will tell you this: If you tell me of your very favorite thing to eat, I will see that you get it to eat tonight. Sound like a deal? Shortly after telling his galpal of his fave meal, Badmoon and Smith thus settled down to watch a little comp before suppertime. As J.B. surfed the Web, looking for something that he could latch his lids on, he came across several enticing dramas. First was a tease about the new season of CAPTAIN JIM-Swashbuckler of Space! Then came a promo about some new prikflik known as MISSION:IMPROBABLEJ.B. learned that that was about a hearty band of fakirs lead by a certain JIM PHELTZ . According to the ad, it was coming to the local cine billionplex near you within one weeks time, so ya better get yer dough out and be prepared for chaos! Finally John settled on one of his current faves: WILD, WIDE WEST! That featured a story about a couple of The AsAre of Earths secret agents set in their past one hundred and twenty years or so. The heroes names were JIM WEST and ARNEMOST GORMAN. After having viewed his share of Family AsArean comp shows for about a week now, Badmoon came to the strange conclusion that when you want a hero to succeed, ya name him JIM! No Oliver, Percy, Phil will do and definitely NOT Arnold! So Bad-moon, in his fat-headed little way asked his cher pah about the situation Hey, ma Cheri, after a week now of watching all these shows about heroes and such-like and guys named JIM featured on those shows, how come they never name the main characters Orville, Sidney or even Stanislau for a heros name? Because The Gamesters of Triquetra declared a loooong time ago that JIM is to be The Heros Name, thats why! Now come eat your meal before it gets spoiled! While eating supper, they watched the news. John almost choked up his hoagie of liverwurst, honey mustard, Thousand Island sauce, mushrooms and lettuce and tomatoes when an urgent report came on telling of how Lang Maqdubh had just crossed The Great Pandimensional Rift
73

and was heading for this part of The Continuum. Skat! What if Maqdubh heads for this AsAre of Urth? spoke J.B. rather nervously, I might add. A-are we still goin to LaMont Park in the morning with that guy still at large? Nonsense! Of course we are, mo Cher! soothed Yony, Dont forget, I have a sixth degree pink belt in BIXADA! So that allayed any fears that Badmoon had about THAT subjecthowever a little while later Cheri, if we have to practice our martial skills tomorrow morning, what about me going to work with Jim DStykk and company? As to that, sweetie, its all been pre-plotted by the auTHOR-Skat! I mean, Jim DStykk as well as us others in our little passion play. Having been a novice agent for The Family AsAre himself back in the day, Jimbo is quite aware of all the bulls-OOPS!, I mean all the trials and tribulations that were putting you through to test your mettle. By the way, you and us three; that is to say Uncle Owen Gosselin, Serge Of-The-Impossibly-Long-Ridiculous-Name and myselfThe Laedi Yony FreyANI Jill Rene Mahermaboni, are whats known in Hub-bubing slang as a JAG team. It stands for Joyfully Aggressive Group. So when you go on a jag so to speak, youll be with your teammates in spirit and sometimes bodyI should hope.Ooooh look, mo Cher! The British--and the best--version of ROBIN HOOD is coming on! Its the one with Michael Preyed! exclaimed the lass. And so it went. Monday morning bopped into being and J.B., Yony andSmith, hmmmn now just where has THAT Darn Cat gone off to?! Here kittykitty.Just where is that darn Cat?! asked a befuddled Badmoon. SUDDENLY! From out of the bathroom came Smith! His muzzle was quite wet. Smith! I do hope that when youre drink-ing out of the throne that you make sure that the thing is flushed! said John, rather stern-ly I should suggest. Naturellement! What do you take me for, a tete d lard?! asked a perplexed Cat. NO! I dont take you to be a fat headand quit using forny words. It makes you sound like a Jean DesFrog. Just where are you learning this lingo anyway?! Her bird, Korby, has been attempting to mind-sift through my brain recently. He thinks that Im not aware of his little game. spoke Smith, Little does he realize that all felines are MASTERS of Mind Control! Badmoon then asked. Want to come down with us to LaMont Park and watch us exercise? Smith replied, rather slip shod, I might addSure, why not?! It should be inter-esting to watch you work up a sweat for once! So hastily dressing--because it was now about eight oclock in the morning and ya know how Badmoon hated to be late!--in tank tops and sweats, the pair and Cat thence struck out for LaMont Park. J.B.s galpal had on a faded red tank that had MASTER emblazoned on it in brilliant neon green. Her emerald green cut-off sweat shorts-cut just high enough to tease ya, mind you, exhibited her fine figure beautifully. Badmoons tank top, which was just made in the sembler minutes before from the only clothes that hed been wearing all week, had the word slave hand painted via Johns own digits. His green sweat pants were nice and loose, just the way real martial artistes like
74

em. They strode barefoot along The Boylon Road because Yony felt it would give them an increased advantage when applying BIX-ADA techniques. Smith, as was his wont, romped gaily along beside them and every once in a while stopped to nibble on The Roadside grasses. Soon enough they arrived at LaMont Park. John couldnt help but no-tice The All AsArean Womens Naked Volleyball Team practicing a ways over but just close enough for J.B. s well practiced eyes to oogle upon. Yony, watching Bad-moon s eyes go uuuuupppp annnd ddddooowwwnnn, was almost thoroughly tempted to kick him where it counted. So, sweetie, do you like what you see? Uh-huh! was all J.B. could muster to say. Tonight is the night we can resume our love makingBUT if you continue to lust after any of the buxom bouncing babes, I can always increase the ban on sex. As I see by Mr. Willy there behind your sweat pants, that youd like nothing better than to be boinking right now, eh, my Big Yankee Pig!?! exclaimed The Laedi of PANE. Just THENfrom out of a CONVENIENT nearby tree Hooo Hah! Prepare to defend thyself, Varlet! yelled Serge. Running away as fast as his body permit-ted, Badmoon reached warp eight in no time! Jjjjooooohhhnnnyyy, Come back here! yelled both Yony and Serge. Extremely embarrassed now in front of The All AsArean Womens Naked Volleyball Team, J.B. began to slink back to his two mentors. The A.A.W.N.V.T., with boobs abouncin an butts aflashin, laughed up-roariously! John, my good Fellow, that is but an inking of what a STAR goes through all the time! spoke The Moor, The potential for danger is everywhere! You have to be on your toes at all times! Okay, Johnny, Serge-lets start said Yony. They then went through several drills of hair pulling, scratching, nail breaking and finally biting, Badmoon felt a renewed sense of confidence that he hadnt felt since leav-ing Yargolan. Smith, in the meantime, roll-icked in the grasses in search of field mice. What the four of them failed to notice how-ever, was that one of The A.A.W.N.V.T. members leave. She had apparently gotten a good look at Badmoon and thought that he was Lang Maqdubh! YIKES! So, after a few minutes of more drills, J.B. and company took a little break. SUDDENLY sirens could be heard coming their way. Badmoon, gurgletwitchin like crazy already, started to get real ascared like. Merde! sighed Yony. SKAT! roared Serge. Kaka whimpered John. Hhhsssssttt! hissed Smith. As a group of local Qarthagenean POLice and AsArean Field Reps surrounded them, our hero gave up. With their crossbows aim-ed at Badmoons heart. The Gen d arms moved in. Hold on, ya putrid lil Cayuses! This heres AsArean Jurisdiction. said an As-Arean Field rep. With those terse words, John was led quickly away with the Field Reps Shokkgoads aimed at his solar plexus. Minutes later, they cuffed their suspect and threw him in a Qarthagenean steam powered squad car. They all then headed back to their base here in Qarth, which co-inky75

dinkily enough was the thirteenth floor right in Kookapah Towers! Serge, Yony and Smith headed in hot pur-suit all the while. The Doom Patrol then ar-rived at their base and threw Badmoon in a padded cell for the time being. Just outside the tiny little window of Johns cell, he could see a massive guard standing tall with his Shokkgoad at the ready. J.B. looked at the Shokkgoad with that certain dread that only those-in-the-know can fully appreciate, kinda like goin inta battle against a Panzer but only armed with a sling! The goad brought back certain, though he thought, buried, memories of a far distant painful past. For, ya see, these were the same type of tools that science had used to damn him so many long, lost years before. They had dared to strip and mind rape his sol, his will and even his memory. God of my Fathers! Badmoon thought How will I ever overcome this?! An adjacent door brought John out of his doom and gloom reverie. Oooh, John, my Johnny, are you all right? Yony asked breathlessly. Y-yony, Thank The Maker that youre here! cried J.B. Serge is just outside getting clearance for Smith. Im afraid that if they dont capture the real Lang Maqdubh within twenty-four hours, that youre doomed. Gee, thanks for such welcome news! said Badmoon rather gloomily. My Hero, do not despair as of yet. The Family AsAre has Laws that protect you even unto death. Our Law prohibits your own body from being killed. What will happen instead is that you will have to un-dergo shock treatment into being a new net-izen. A so-called model of perfection. Be prepared Yony spoke. for the worst. Badmoon thought. Having already gone through this same process in years gone by, John grew pen-sive. Just when I was growing quite fond of this particular lifeSKAT! Looks like I might as well get a new one. When does it all stop?! The answer to that, whatever it may be, can only be answered by me! John! John! Wake up! exclaimed Yony. Hunh? Whats the matter?! Youd grown so thoughtful and silent. I thought that I had lost you already and that you were mad at me! spoke his galpal, ra-ther ruefully I might add. I hope that they catch Maqdubh soon. My soul has been battered enough as of late. despaired Badmoon. Mo Cher, youve always had and will always have me by your side, no matter what guise the world takes on after your treatment. Uncle Owen, Serge and myself will always be here for you. spoke Yony, certainly not full of baloney, this time! What of mo frere, Smith?! Your brother is eternal also. said The red-tressed one. No matter the disguise that he takes, Smith will always have unyielding devotion toward you. Just then the door to the holding pen creaked eber so slowly open. In walked Serge and The Great Cat. Smith padded up to his pal behind the cold, ferrous bars and started to purr. Reaching through the bars, John scratched his Cats ears and thus spoke Any news of Maqdubh? Certainly not to get your hopes up or to sound too promising, but theres been a series of
76

robberies from outlaying delica-tessens and markets that specialize in ser-ving cheese to various and sundry folk from across The Continuum. An antiquated secu-rity camera in one of the shops caught the thief in the act. said Serge. Andsaid John, Yony and Smith all at once! The thief is none other than our boy Lang Maqdubh! As to why he steals cheese is anybodys guess. But already, in Badmoons mind, the answer to that lay abrewin!Soon enough to came time for his boon Companeiros to leave. As they prepared to depart, Yony blew John a kiss. That action only served to reinforce J.B.s misery, for it was upon this night that they were to have resumed their love making. As the door to the forbidden zone was closed behind them, Badmoon was left for-lorn and all alone. After a time his jailers came to feed and water him. To pass the time, John sang The Seven Lays of Sugar-Plum in his head. Soon, despite but maybe because of it all, Badmoon fell into a fretful sleep. He tossed and turned, having night-marish visions of a world doomed because of the nefarious plotting of men empowered with the wisdom of weapons such as gunpowder. Morning couldnt come soon enough as Badmoon paced within his cell. A short breakfast of a hard roll and some gruel failed to brighten his spirit, not even a tad. John noted, for the first time, that the adjoin-ing cells, of which there were four, stood empty. A surveillance camera positioned from a high vantage point within the eldritch shadows of this particular bardo recorded the occurrences within each cell. Late in the afternoon Yony, Uncle Owen, Serge and Smith came by to see him Well, Johnny, as if you didnt know, shortly theyll be coming for you spoke Uncle Owen solemnly. Unexpectedly! The door burst forth and two AsArean Marshals held a new prisoner betwixt them YOU! exclaimed booth Badmoon and the prisoner! Chapter EIGHT Here before the small assemblage stood, in applied phlebotium manacles of course, stood his nefarious twin, Lang Maqdubh! Im gonna KILL You! roared Maqdubh! Badmoon shrunk back against the opposite wall of his cell. As Lang gazed with wrath at all about him, his malevolent glare lit upon Yony So, my lover consorts with foul humans, eh? spoke Maqdubh with maniacal glee. Laedi Redtress, feeling slightly nervous, rebuked Maqdubh Why, Im quite sure that that is former lover to you, Lang. And, prithee what do you mean
77

foul humans? Youll find out soon enough if I dont get some cheese! Cheese! I must have cheese! The more foul the better! But I must have cheese! roared the maniacal Maqdubh. Minutes later, a certain Marshall Wayne came upon the scene NoBullMan Owen, your man is free to go. I hate to admit it, but my cohorts an I made a mistake. No more needs to be said and so saying Marshall of Le Duke, Wayne bid Badmoon forth from his cell. LOOK! J.B cried and the group followed his yelp. THERE, in what was Maqdubhs cell, was a malformed, maladjusted skin-walkin, (one eyed , one horned, flyin poiple eater, NAH jest kiddin on THAT score) were-rat, Rat-lin all atwitchin an seethin most hideous-ly about the cell. What th F! exclaimed Le Duke! M-m-mussst h-have Ch-ch-eese! cried the thing that was Maqdubh. Wayne unsung his Shokkgoad and rammed it down the snarlin troat o the thing that was Maqdubh! Soon the smell an sound of burnt flesh could be attested to in the small confines on the Thirteenth Floor Of Kook-apah Towers. The ratlin soon enough was declared stabilized. Damn! Badmoon said. Well, pilgrim, I didnt kill em if n thats what yer all thinkin. I only stabilized im. From now on he stays a rat til I say so und-er section c, page one hundred and ten pa-ragraph Q/13 stated Marshall Wayne. The Great Cat then went to the edge of Maqdubhs cell and sniffed around C-c-cat squealed the ratlin ever so softly, know ye th-this: There is one among your group that may or maybe not be here is not all that they entirely claim themselves to be. and with that the ratlin lapsed into unkonkshishness. Relating this latest news to Uncle Owen, Smith still felt quite disturbed. Determined to route out any further danger, Uncle Owen declared that the group should go about their business as usual but maintain a constant vigil. That night, after thoroughly discussing the days events, Yony and John boinked, did the nasty and made love together (YAY! Fer all you pervs out there! AND you KNOW who you ARE!) Badmoon was finally able to re-lax and get a lot of tension out of his body. The following days became quite routine as once again John went back to work in the Hall of Records. Yony continued her work at The Sanctum. In the afternoons, when they both were home, The Art of Bixada was perfected. Getting quite accomplished in his martial skills, Badmoon was finally able to fight his way out of a paper bag. Weeks had passed with no sign yet of the mysterious other agent The Ratling had spoken about. One fine day, Badmoon re-ceived a summons in the mail. Minutes went by for the very frustrated J.B. onna kinna be-cause he could not yet read the Qarthagenian OR even AsArean language yet. Not quite there at his boiling point, he handed the letter over to his galpal to decipher The letter is an official summons from The Continuums High Tribunal of Comedy. You have three days to prepare, mo Cher and after that, youre on trial. Oh fer cryin out loud! Badmoon wail-ed. Havent I been on enough trials?! Besides, what
78

am I on trial for?! Johnny, havent you learned by now that The Way of STARdom is one Great Big Challenge or trail? Yony spoke sternly, Anyway, your trial is to be one of humor. Is it going to be tough? asked J.B. It all depends on how funny you can be. I believe that you, Serge and Uncle Owen find me amusing. As for Smith, hes my pal and will laugh at anything I do or say. said Badmoon. We find you amusingbecauseto us, now please dont get me wrong mo Cher, to us you are a novelty. Yony said very care-fully. And so, how am I a novelty? John asked, slightly chagrinned. In your innocent navet and the effect it has on people. People in your position are many times quite unaware of just how they affect others around them. And just what effect is that? Some feel contempt. Other people feel amusement. Some even ignore whatever they think that you might possess as de-ficiencies. Thats most certainly to their credit. Some are quite afraid of you as The Beast that they are themselves within. Some try to help. But for whatever the reason, each person must face you and acknowledge that there for the Grace of G.O.T.S. go I. The Laedi of Pane said. GOTS?! asked John. If you wish to think of it that way, thats ok. Yony spoke. However, those-in-the-know realize that its just an acronym for Given Om Tat Sat. SHUT UP! But do go on! Oh, will I ever get used to these stupid oh-so-rapidly-changing euphemisms of Qarthagenean youth?! But I digressIt simply means in terms that you can pre-sently accept: That which is Given Freely and without question, OM or in The (Uni)Versal Lingo, LOVE. TAT: That which is THAT, in other words, Solid and TRUE. SAT is The IMMOVABLE WON. KOMPRENU?! And That last remark of Komprenu is a COMMAND Statement as in UNDERSTAND?! After about five more minutes of attempt-ting to absorb such scintellatin wisdom, J.B. finally got up the gumption to ask some normal stuff fer a change Wheres that darn Cat? Outside, catching his dinner. It was at that moment that Korby flew in Ahhh, Msieur Genius is conversing with ma petite cheri. How droll. thought the bird. And Msieur Stinqfethur, might I strongly suggest to you that if you dont have any-thing nice to say about mo Cher, then do not dare to say anything at all?! You can still be turned very easily into a mouse, mo confederate. Kompris?! intimated Yony. The day may yet come when you will regret those words! the Crow said. And just what do you mean by that? asked Yony. That remains to be seen! and so saying Korby thus flew off. That damn crow never seems to stay put long enough, eh ma Cheri? spoke J.B. Yes, I believe that youre rightbut the strange thing is, he never was such an el-usive creature. Before we materialized here from our Oyt, Korby was like my right hand. However, over the passed several years, hes slowly changed.
79

Just then the door bell rang. Who is it? asked Yony. Tis I, Serge The Magnificent! Ive come to go over Johnnys comedy routine with him. Well come on in. you can stay and have supper with us. Were having Norskovkorsk meatballs with a tuna casserole. said Red tresses. Moments later, Serge had joined them. He shook Johnnys hand in a friendly gesture Yeeeouch!!! went Badmoon! I see that you like my joy buzzer, eh kiddo?! Even Yony was amused. Where upon seeing that, he offered to have his Laedi friend smell the flower on his lapel. She smelled it and was promptly squirted right in the kisser! Manger d Lard! OOOOhhhh Serge! Youre such a child! she exclaimed. Thats the trouble with you women, no sense of humah! laughed Serge. Well the, Ive got a joke for you, Msieur Big! Whats twelve inches long and white? Yony teased with an awful smirk on her lips. Her captive audience gave her a puzzled look. Give up?! She teased. NOTHING! Both John and Serge looked upon their galpal with further bewilderment on their faces Dont you get it?!No?! Aww forget it! and with that said and done Yony stormed out of the room and into her kitchen to pre-pare supper. A few minutes went by and The Cat showed up with his catch. Carrying his prize, a good sized woodchuck in his strong jaws, he approached John and dropped it at Badmoons feet. Hey guys, wanna bite? asked Smith. Sure, why not? said Serge. Thus ripping off a good sized portion of haunch, Smith gave it to Serge who then asked. Uh, Smith, you wouldnt be insulted if I skinned and cooked it would you? Go right ahead, grand dhomme. meowed The Cat. I think Ill save my appetite for Yonys meal, ok ol bud? said Badmoon. Thusly it was a little while later that they all were found munching away at their meal in front of the tube. On the tube was a retrospective of Patrick Magewys series The Prisonerd. Following that came an expose on the old Brit series, The Aven-gered The darn remote must have stuck on some stupid Brit tv channel or some-thingBut, anyhow, John felt that Dyana Rigged sure was a number in her day. Although he found that Honor Blakemann and Linda Torsson were quite fetching also. The impeccable Patrick MacNab was amus-ing too. During the commercials, Serge kept prepping John for his comedy routine. By the time the evening was over, Badmoon felt that he had it down pat. Soon enough it came time to bid Serge adieu Well thats it, pard. spoke Serge. Ill be seeing you when you do your routine. W-what do you mean? asked John. Youre going on Starched Shirt, dint ya know? U-ulp! was all Badmoon managed to say as he started to gurgletwitch. Ulp with good reason, Johnny! When your humor is on trial, youll be appearing before nigh countless zillions of viewers via The All AsArean Comp Network. Ulp, again! went John. Dont worry, mo Cher! Im sure with all our help that youll soon have your routine down pat. said Yony smoothly.
80

Shortly, but later Serge bid John and company Good Night. Sensing in her man great agitation, Laedi Redtress offered to allay any deep fears that he felt. Touching a soft spot in the right place Yony helped her man feel like a king that night. Badmoon responded in kind. Soon they both slept soundly. The Cat, meanwhile, was keeping a weather eye out for the bird, for he had his suspicions. Momentarily, Korby came on the scene. Trying hypnosis on Yony, he di-scovered that that didnt work on his Mi-stress. He then plied his hypnotic skills on Smith. It, too, failed to work on The Cat. Getting quite frustrated by now, he thought of easier pickinsAnd we all know by NOW just who that would be, eh?! Hopping about as only Crow can, he thus went over to where John lay. Peering into Badmoons left ear, he softly probed. However all he seemed to get from the Genius was Yes, dear, anything you say. I promise to be good and take out the garbage all of the time. he was almost ready to withdraw his sifting of Johns mind butdeep in the substrata of The Mountain That Is Mined, he heard Johns fave rock group, GRAYL playing Badmoon Choo-glin. Getting quite ascared now for himself and others, he then withdrew as hastily as he could from the presence that was Badmoon. Knowing how close that he was to almost going insane because of sifting in Bad-moons Mined, he quickly preened himself once and flew out the open window. However before flying off on the business that he had to do, he stopped by his nest to see how his nestlings were doing. Seeing that all was safe within the nest, he gave each of the five a nice big fat worm. Thus satisfied, he then flew off. The following day, Badmoon tried some of his comedy sketches at work. After J.B. had done some of his routine, instead of resounding laughter, all he received was silence. Man! Hotblood, you cain do bettah than that caint you?! said Jim DStykk. Shoot! Mah Gramma is a whole lots fun-nier when she falls flat on her face than you are! spoke another. So it went. The day wore on until the end of his shift came. Feeling somewhat embar-rassed, J.B. headed for home. When he got there he saw a note taped to Yony s free-zerator door. He note had on it simple, pithy little advice in Yonys fine handwritten style. It stated very simply:To Thine OwnSelf be True. Be ThySelf. Absorbing this succinct advice for a few minutes, Bad-moon began to feel more heartened. I now know what I have to do thought John. While he waited for Yony to come home from work, he watched a little comp. On screen was a new show starring Ernst Schmartfaker. It was called The Seekers. It was about a group of individuals who sought truth wherever it could be found and in any and all forms. It was touted as a science fiction-westernsoap opera-sports-drama type show. The producers of the show even went ahead and coined a new word to describe it. They called it TROTH, That which is True and Faithful Engrossed in the show, Badmoon didnt hear Smith speak to him I saidWhen is Yony coming homeDOH! as he nuzzled John arm. Oh, ah Hi Pal, Yony should be home any minute now. On screen now was Sheltowee and how he tricked the Shawnee into sparing his settle-ment of Boonesborough. His ransom to the Shawnee Chief, Blackfish: His life in ex-change for all the lives in Boonesborough. It nearly cost Sheltowee, a.k.a. Danl Boone, his life but his reputation
81

as a man of HONOR as well. Inspired by such bearcats and heroes of long ago, John felt fortified in his decision. It was then that his cherpah came home. Sheeesh! Man, am I bushed! If I hear that damn jingle for a quarter pound cerebellum burger one more time, I swear Im going to throttle someone! Yony exclaimed, quite exasperated I should think. Hold Thee headcheese, hold Thee Ham hocks teased John as he sang the merry lil jingle of The Sanctum. AAAARRRRGGGGHHHH!!!! screamed The Beauteous One. She thusly proceeded to chase Badmoon round the room. Yony finally caught J.B. when he tripped and fell over his bud, Smith ROOOAAARRR! went The Kitty! S-s-sorry! went John. Gotcha! went Yony with a murderous glare behind her eyes. Badmoon defended himself as best he could with his newly acquired Bixada tech-niques. John finally managed to get a lip lock on Yony and from there libidos arose. After a century or two-HAH!-- with their passions satisfied, the lovers disengaged and life resumed back to normalc y. Im going to fix supper now, mo Cher. What would you like? Hows about a pizza loaded with mush-rooms and whatever youd care to put on it? asked J.B. meeooow hinted The Cat. What!? Another country heard from! laughed Badmoon. Dats right! Hows about putting some fish heads and chicken gizzards on there, too?! Smith said. Why dont I just make you your own. It should only take a few minutes in the semmbler spoke Yony. Sounds yummy! purred the hairball. Noting that her man was some what in a morose mood, Yony then asked Whats the matter, my Johnny? Just fol-low the advice on the note I wrote and youll do right fine. Twenty four hours later Badmoon still didnt feel confident. Ma Cheri, I still dont feel right about this. Its not quite gurgle twitchin feelin. Listen here, Johnny! Face up to the fact that you have to do this! You positively absolutely can not wuss out of this! Your future as well as countless others depends on what you do tomorrow night. Now shut up and relax! Yony sternly said. Badmoon then went on to polish his routine for the umpteenth time. Soon enough it came time for bed. It was a Saturday tom-orrow and they all could sleep just a little later. Sensing that her man could use a little extra care, she started to rub his back, soon after that, Yony felt inclined to rub else-where. Quite quickly, they both just plain ol rubbed and their fires of passion became ignited. Shortly, but laterwhen they lay quietly together, Badmoon asked Yony, do you ever use any form of birth control? Other than abstinence, no. Why do you ask, mo grand omme? Arent you afraid of bringing a baby into this world?
82

John, my Yankee Strudel, if I had ever felt that way about it, I never would have gone to bed with you in the first place. Now hush, its time for sleep. case closed, eh?! Presently their snores were heard resound-ing in a South American, Earth rain forest. A few hours later, they arose at a reasonable hour. They then prepared themselves for the trip. Badmoons trial was being taped that afternoon. The AsAre Cosmoversal Studios located in Oreland, Florese is where they had to travel to. Uncle Owen arrived and took them to the place where their PAN-D ship would leave from. It was called a PAN-D ship for it had the capabilities of traveling in all dimensions. Upon arriving at their destination, Uncle Owen ushered them inside a building he called a hanger. Here in the middle, almost lost in yet again Stygian darkness, was their wessel, er rather vessel. Roughly spherical in form and about as tall as TWO GROWN MEN lay the bell-oh poop! Wrong tale! Sorry bout THAT!--anyhow, was The Ship! Numbered Ninety Three Ninety Three. As their party approached the craft, John noted a slightly green emerald metal flaked paint job on it. It was suspended on a hook from away up high in the gloom of the hangers ceiling. J.B. thought it resembled nothing more than a Swithins Dei ornament. Mounting the gang plank and walking in-side Badmoon stood aghast! The cabin of the craft was bathed in a soft red light. In the center of said cabin were a set or group--hey ya knowd that new math shinola they tried pullin on us in the sixties?!--of large bea-nbag chairs. Mounted on the walls was a variety of scientific gadgetry so necessary to guide these crafts through and about The Great Pan-Dimensional Rift or The Rift, as it was affectionately called by The Pan-Dynauts. The Pan-Dynauts were a hardy breed of men of iron whos only fear was a dreaded mind quake as they rode The Rift, plying their trade among The Solar Mains. Not even Pan-Dypirates could quell the mettle of such men. Here, my Johnny! Come sit here. Ill put these earphones and a pair of light deflect-ing goggles on you. giggled Yony. W-why do I need these things? asked RolfOOPS! Not that darn story again! I meant to write J.B. sorry bout THAT! The intensity of light is so much while Rift Roving that it can cause blindness. The earphones youll find will play only what you wish to hear, ya follah?! spoke Uncle Owen. Minutes later all the group-set (giggle!), that is to say: John, Yony and Uncle Owen were seated in their respective beanbag chairs. Their fierce pilot, a Mister Al Voyerah, commanded the voice activated computer to start the ignition sequence. The ignition sequence simply consisted of quieting ones mind, relaxing and letting the computers own personality do the rest. The computer for this particular Rift Roving jaunt was known as ALICE. Her persona was that of your favorite aunt. Okay, does everybody have their goggles on? Good! Just sink back into your chairs, flip on your phones and relax. Alice and I will do all the rest. See you all in a couple of hours. spoke Big Al. So as Badmoon and company lay quietly amid what could become the wreckage of their minds if all was not secure by DEUX EX MACHINA--that would be me! Ha ha!--John began to hear GRAYLs version of ELMERSSON, BLAKE and PAHMURs Buccaneers. Because his eyes were blocked and his ears so totally involved with the music, J.B. could only surmise that the others of his party were like-wise as occupied as he was. The time passed and John felt a gentle tug at his shoulders. It was Al and he was taking off Johns goggles and earphones
83

So Johnny, were all here in Florese. Did you enjoy the trip? asked Al. Uh, yeah, sureWhere are the others? said Badmoon, somewhat befuddled. Why, were right behind you, mo Cher! said Yony. W-what time is it? asked J.B. NOW! Now is The Time! said all of them, including Al and Alice. And so the party disengaged from PAN-D Craft Ninety Three-Ninety Three. Uncle Owen then showed them to a door at the other end of the hanger. To Johns wood crafted experienced eyes, the hanger ap-peared an identical twin of his own worlds hanger, even down to the grease stains on the floor and ol spider webs placed oh-so-conveniently but scattered tastefully around the premises. Most curious! thought Badmoon. Awaiting them outside was a marvel of wonderment J.B. thought hed never live to see. A genuine infernal compuketion engine powered vehicle quite like they had two thousand years ago on his own home world! Uncle Owen then explained as simply as he could to his nephew that it was studio prop-erty and was known locally as a mini-van. As they all entered the van, Badmoon could-nt help but wonder and compare this vehicle to the Qarthagenean Steam Clunkers that were the pride and joy of that civiliza-tion. A while later they arrived at the studio where John was quickly made ready. Soon enough it came time for him to appear on stage. When he got to where it all was sup-posed to happen, boy was he surprised! For there before him as he opened the correct door as he was directed to do, was no stage at all! No audience! No host, either! Upon going further, all the while exercising his world famous--by now--gurgletwitchin technique that had saved his hair on many a cue, he began to note the rooms dcor. It was painted non-photographic blue and there was but a simple, non-glaring micro-phone stand placed in the center of it. W-what-what-b-but-w-who?! he queasily shook Are you ready, Mr. Badmoon? said a mysterious voice coming from a speaker set flush high up among the ceiling tiles. Y-yes! spoke John very nervously. You seem rather anxious. Didnt they brief you about what goes on around here? See those little lenses mounted all over the walls and ceiling of this huge room that youre currently locked in? Those are called cameras. Theyre used to film you as you go about your life and death struggle right here and very soon right now to determine if your life has any value at all to The Great Continuum Spanning and Spawning Family AsAre. An ya know what?! said the voice quite menacingly. G-gulp! W-what?! he gurgletwitched. Were filming even as we speak! Once everything is done and UnDone, polished and made all spiffy-like, well skillfully edit out aaalll the shinola that we need to and beam it all over the Cosmos! W-what about my trial? Why, its happening even as we converse! The trio of Moe Showard, Larry Shine and Curly Shaw, also known as The Madhat-ters are deciding your fate, er, I mean, score right now. Then I guess Id better get started said Badmoon. Good luck, Mr. Badmoon! And break a leg!
84

Dismissing such a curious send off from his already upset mind, J.B. remembered Yonys kind adviceBe yourself and so without further adieu There once was a lass from Lorrainewhos hair was Quite full like a mane. Of Don Juans, they refused For they were wholly Amused when she knotted Her hair outright insane. Alternating between lecherous limericks and saucy shanties for several minutes, he noted that a red light came on and started to blink a few times. Recalling that this was the signal to end his routine, he patiently waited for any indication of the results of his trial. Laedis and Gentlemen, lets give a big hand for the challenger, John C. Badmoon! said the voice of Eb Macbayn, entrepreneur and slave trader par excellent. While waiting, Badmoon just stood idly picking his nose. Olliver Sudden, caught in the act, the door to the room became unlocked and in walked his friends! When said John. Ssshhhh, mo Cher! Theyre revealing the winner now Okay folks the present STAR, Bill Murphy gets three stars. Lets see what challenger, John C. Badmoon rec-eivesTwo starsThe champion once again for the twenty fifth week in a row Somewhat numbed by the gravity of his loss, Badmoon paid the rest of the announ-cements no heed. Uncle Owen, noticing his down trodden nephew, gently asked Johnny, do you wish to stay in town and have dinner? Id really rather not. Can we all just head for home now? So it was agreed then that theyd head back to their own AsAre. Upon arriving at the hanger, Al greeted them. Tough break, kid. Hex! We all get our fifteen minutes of fame. We grab the baton. Kill a few dragonsBut in the end, a guys got to ask himself Was it Worth it? The correct answer will carry you back to nor-malcy. The wrong path will lead to pain. Quickly enough all was in readiness to re-sume their backwards journey. Al secured his passengers of PAN-D Craft ninety Three-Ninety here. With his goggles on and headphones onhisearsJ.B. was ere long lulled into afretfulsleep.dreaming of standing in a huuuuge line at a concert hall. Badmoon needed special tickets. Ones with a green background and a red embossed STAR on it just to get in the joint. The band playing was the fave group of allll The AsAres, The Releasers! With J.B. were all his kin, friends and family. After waiting for a million years, they all got to
85

enter the building and found their seats. All of Humanity was there. The Place was as Big as Creation and as mini-scule as the head of a pin. A demonic looking host with a rat perched on his left shoulder was the emcee. His sleek silken demeanor sickened Johns stomach waaay beyond gurgletwitch. The emcee then opened his gap teethed and mangled maw to speak Ladies and Gentlemen! I am proud to present to you all starting tonight and proceeding to every night for allll of eternity the band that youve been waiting forTHE RELEASERS! Right straight from Golgotha, here he is, lead singer JESUS CHRIST! On base, GHANDI! On drums, THORR ODHINNSSON! On keyboards, WILLIAM TELL! And on background vocals and groupie sex afterwards, HARRIET TUBMAN! Lets give a big round of applause for these heroes, these redeemers! What seemed to Badmoon like centuries went byIn Johns hellish vision the personnel of the band slowly and subtly changed. Various and sundry members of his own family, friends and kin took up the positions and still the audience continued to rave on. The emcee came on once again Ladies and knuckleheads! Right here and now in the second part of our lil passion play yall be treated to a new kind of game show calledNAME THAT RANSOM! Who wants to be the first on their block to start the charade?!You there, with the hook nose and baldhead, you say you cheated on your wife and thus caught a horrible and malingering disease from your mistress? Youd give anything to undo the damage done? Say no more! Say no more! And with that said and done came two loathsome henchmen from seemingly out of nowhere! In the blink of an eye they had hook nose straight jacketed and thus pro-ceeded to remove with glee the mans re-productive system! The audience paid what was happening to that man no heed. They all went on going about carousing by drinking, drugging, smoking and having sex in their seats as they all waited for the next victim to ransom themselves. As Badmoon gripped his nightmare, the horse from hell revealed even more dementia In his vision J.B. was seated next to his thenwife of long ago, Damnhell. Next to her were their two children, Urk and Julep. John could tell that Damnhell was very nervous and concerned for the children. Julep then opened her mouth to speak I want to ransom my teeth and tongue. I lied to my Daddy and told him I didnt love him! As quick as diarrhea came the two hench-men from Damnations Shadows. Just as they were about to straight jacket his little girl, Julep, now grown to womanhood, Badmoon woke up screaming NO! NO! YOU CANT DO THAT! TAKE ME! OH GOD! TAKE ME! MY LIFE FOR HERS! Chapter NINE Johnny! Johnny! Wake up! cried Yony! With a brisk slap of her hand, Badmoon was brought back to reality. W-what happened?! asked a befuddled J.B. You must have had a helluva nightmare! Tell us about it. said Uncle Owen. A while later after John had told of his experience, Uncle Owen nodded to both Yony and Al John, I think youve just been under the workings of that nefarious PAN-D pirate, Jean d Mopp! said Uncle Owen. And further more
86

Wait, Owen! Look! His phones werent even plugged in OR turned on! cried Yony. Commander Voyerah, I think we all stop this particular voyage right now. It seems to me and probably all of us present that weve reached our destination. My son, er, rather nephew, has developed a conscious of his own even without any interference from Jean D Mopp! spoke Uncle Owen with the greatest of pride. Oui, mo Capitan, mo Capitan! Prepare to disembark! winked Al to his AsArean cohorts. And so PAN-D craft Ninety Three Ninety Three came to a sudden halt within the dark cavernous hold of a hanger, to be found where ever it was such things proceed from so necessary to promote the growth of spiri-tual values, eh?! As the ships gang walk lowered, Al noticed it was quite dark ALICE! he exclaimed! What-is-it-my-great-big-graham-cracker- spoke the device. Turn on the expletive light so we can see our way out of here! Thank you! Little while later all, that is to say, Uncle Owen, Yony and John, were on their way in a Qarthagenean steamer. Badmoon, exhaust-ed from his ordeal, fell into a deep dream-less slumber. Before long, Johns party arrived back at Kookapah Towers. As they rounded a corner near Yonys pad, a furtive figure darted ahead of them. Badmoon was about to give chase when LOOK at the damn door! Mo Cher, forget about that person down the hall. It was a Ratling. I saw its tail. cried Yony. The door to her place was bashed in and off its hinges. Inside, the apartment was a shambles. There was debris all over the placeIn one corner cowered Korby Stinqfethur. F-forgive m-me, ma petite cheri! It was I who managed to let the creature in. The Olkyn hold a sword over me. If I dont help them in their machinations against humanity, they swear theyll eat my nestlings! Surely Msieur Badmoon can understand, being a father himself. The Cat, sensing something was very wrong, reacted quickly! Leaping with fright-ening speed upon the bird M-make it quick. Make it clean! Korby uttered. With that, Smith snapped the bird in two in his great jaws. Why did you do that?! exclaimed Yony! He was mind-raping you even as we stood there. I with my Great Cats will, determin-ed it was he that somehow, got in with the Ratling to your pad. Perhaps he had the Rat-ling mimic your voice and got in that way. Cest la guerre, mes amis. A few moments of very awkward silence followed. Finally Uncle Owen spoke Those two, Korby and the Ratling, sure made quite a mess of things, eh ma Cheri? Oui, mo Cher. said Yony very softly, By the way, where is Serge? Out making ready the Clinchpoop. The Clinchpoop is being sent back to Yargolan to resupply our jag team there. Wilknot Shattered, Leo Kneadme and DeFrost Beau MacWhine are in dire need of the urgent sundries so necessary for carrying out their mission. Why do you ask? II need to see him. Korby was his friend, too. she said as a small tear brushed down her cheek.
87

Ill take the trip upTower and tell him to stop by Just then as Owen strode to the door, he slipped on Yonys crystal ball bur-ied amid the rubble of her broken in pad. Landing obliquely on the floor, Uncle Owens head hit hard and he passed out! G.O.D.T.S.! No! Mocher Owen, not you, too! Johnny do something! So Badmoon went over to where his uncle lay and examined him closely. Moments later, J.B. looked up with tears streaming from his eyes and cried PREPARE A FUNERAL FOR A VIKING! SUDDENLY! Wait! You damn idjit! Dont be so anxious! Im not Valhalla bound yet! groaned Uncl e Owen! U-uncle O-owen! Youre okay! Still a little groggy from his fall, Uncle Owen kiddingly said Its a good thing I changed my under-wear! The parameds will soon be here, wont they?! WellSomebody call them, fer cryin out loud! And so the parameds came a few moments later after Yony had summoned them by comp call My Johnny, Im going with Owen to Hospital. The parameds say that its just a mild concussion. They said that at your uncles age we have to be careful. Theyre going to take xrays. I hope to be home soon. A bientot! with that Laedi Redtresses gave Badmoon a peck on his cheek and left with the ambulance. Well, its like this Cat, I guess I have not-hing better to do than clean up this place. spoke J.B. By the way, where were you when I was in Florese? Out getting laid! As IF THATs any of YOUR Beeswax! wink nudged Smith! About an hour later everything, including the door, was ship shape in Bristol fashion. In Badmoons misspent yout he had done time as a carpenters helper and thus all the needed skills came by to him when it came time to fix the door. The comp buzzed just moments after John finished tidying up Johnny, its me, Yony. The physicians say Uncle Owen is going to be fine. They just wish to keep him overnight for observation, thats all. Oh, by the by, please try to contact Serge for me. Owen says your Grael test is due real soon. Love ya, tootle pip! Comp. Locate and contact individual who goes by the name of Serge. said John. W-o-r-k-i-n-g-Serge-atop-Towers-over-seeing-loading-of-I-S-S-Clinpoop-Contact-in-threetwo-one- Serge here. Johnny! Whats going on?! Badmoon filled Serge in on the events of the day. Serge then expressed his sympathy to Yony and his concerns for Owen to J.B Johnny, Ill be by tomorrow. Itll be a Sunday. We can go for a walk in LaMont Park then. Just some minor details to discuss and youll be a full-fledged STAR real soon! Uh, Serge, youre outside and on top of The Towers. How is it that you be talkin to me? asked a bewildered Badmoon. Youll find THAT out soon enough, Laddiebuck! Now if thats all there is, Im signing of. Weve got to make room for an enterprising new agent and his entourage on board ship. Were taking this new STAR back to his ROKKHOME to act as a deputy and envoy for Wilknot
88

Shattered and us. Serge out! Later that evening Yony came home. Expressing a desire for relaxation, Badmoon rubbed her back without complaint. After-wards nestled in each others arms, they soon, snore less fell asleep. Hours later with The Sun of The Son rising ever higher in the morning sky, they were still asleepUntil Smith licked Johns face, that is! Oooooh, ma Cheri, you want some fun now in the morning?W-what, hunh?! Smith! You ol rascal!!! Hey, John. Remember me?! You havent paid attention to me in a while. Im getting kinda hungry.! spoke the feline. Cmere, bud. Ill rub yer tummy. said J.B. As Our Lads (thought youd never see THAT expression again, huhn, dint ya, huhn?!) communed together, Yony stretched and lazily got up. Mo Cher, perhaps you should get ready. Serge will be here very soon. All things considered, just how are you, ma Cheri? Ill be all right, I guess. Its going to take a while. I miss him, Korby. He was a bon confrere before the Olkyn got to him I had an ider last night before you came home from The Hospital. So I put Korbys body in the freezerator in hopes that we could put him in the semmbler. The semm-bler could then make a new bird, right? asked Badmoon. My most thoughtful lover, Im afraid that just wouldnt do it. No machine created by Man can do what The Maker can. A thing without a soul--but whos to say that mac-hines do NOT have souls ,eh?!--cannot replicate The Spirit of Life. I-Im truly sorry for Korbys death, ma belle amie. Can you forgive the enormity of what I did? asked Smith. Mo Gran Chat, you were just acting in the best interest of all of us. Is there not one among us who would not have done the same? Now carry on and dont fret, mo Coeur DLeon. Then the door buzzer rang and it was Serge announcing his Presence. Of course you can come in! But give me a moment to put a robe on, okay? sayeth Yony, no longer full of baloney. Minutes later Serge came in with a bouquet of yellow roses for Yony. Oh, Serge! You shouldnt have! Just a little token to cheer you upAre you going to bury or burn Msieur Stinq-fethur? Korby has told me many times that upon his present passing to have him burned. replied Yony. He will then enter Paradise at once that wayBut anyway, The Grael Cru-cible draws nigh. Let me see if Johnnys ready. Going to the bathroom, where J.B. was performing the three esses, The Laedi of Pane thus called out John, Serge is here for your ordeal, er, rather hike. Are you ready? From out in the apartments hall, a toilet could be heard flushing Yeah, I guess Im ready. came a muffled reply. Yony suppressed a laugh at her boys as they made ready to leave. Serge had on faded blue denim shorts and his massive girth was somehow compressed into a tight red tank top. A wide green bandana served as a headband. For footgear, he wore leather sandals. Two curious rings, one on each ring finger, caught Badmoons eye. The rings were black onyx with a pentagram of silver embossed on the face. J.B. asked what the rings were for; he had never seen Serge wear jewelry before.
89

THAT, Johnny, youll find out soon enough! Badmoon was dressed in a faded red t shirt and wore green cut offs. For footgear, a pair of black hi-top Kez were just the thing. They made you run faster and jump higher! What are you and Smith doing while were gone? asked J.B. Were going to Hospital to see how Uncle Owen is doing. Ive got a special pass that will allow Smith inside. See you later, mes chers. Sometime after, Badmoon and Serge arrived at LaMont Park. Applying some in-sect repellant on himself, the Moor offered some to John. Badmoon shunned it saying liquids, potions and ointments are for the sick. I was hoping that youd say that! thought Serge. So whats going on? Why are we here? asked John. The time has come, John, for you to take the pebble from our hands. Stand straight and perfectly stillGood! Eyes front! and with that said and done, Serge walked around Badmoon and brought his right fist up to his mouth. He spoke into the ring on his finger in a most curious manner! Open channel D. Open channel D. Owen, do you copy? From deep inside Hospital, an audience of three were listening to Serges trans-mission We hear you loud and clear! Carry on! Owen spoke. Meanwhile back at the ranch, oops! Sorry, park! John, Im going to tell you about a small portion of The Grael now. Youve heard of The Grael? Uhn, nope! Tough! But here is how some OtherWise have a Knowing about The Grael. There is a duality and more, in the nature of The Co-smos. Light and dark. Hot and Cold. Mania and Depression. The Grael can be a persons Way of Dealing with these, at times, oppos-ing forces. In one word, describe to me your Grael. You have but one minute to comply! As J.B. began his ordeal, two mosquitoes went on holiday on his left leg. Just as he was about to answer, Badmoon went to scratch his left leg with his right one and! Oh, Skat! thought John. Im out of BALANCE! he shouted as he fell on his keister! John! Johnny! Did you just say balance?! THATS IT, Man! Youve done it! shouted Serge! I was going t say boinkin thought Badmoon. Owen! Did you hear?! Our guy said it! He knows! All thats left is The Rite of The Sabre! exclaimed The Moor! Back at Hospital there was much jubil-ation! Yony, our guy did it! Just one more thing and hes a STAR! Fun, eh wot?! said Uncle Owen most proudly! Uncle Owen was released from Hospital later that day. Yony walked Uncle Owen to his apartment within Kookapah Towers. The Cat pranced alongside the pair. He was very proud of the fact that HIS bud triumphed in his ordeal. Well, Owen, here we are. spoke Yony. Oui, ma Cheri. Til we meet again tomor-row morning, I bid you adieu. Leaving Badmoons Uncle to his geishas tender loving care and otherwise, Yony left for her place. Minutes later, she found Serge and J.B. within. Oh, Hi, Yony! Johnny and I were just about to cerebrate, er, rather, I mean, cele-brate the solving of HIS equation. Care for a can?
90

Okaybut Johnny better not be drinking any beer. You know how it may affect his brine level. Yony replied rather too cautiously I FEEL! Relax, ma Cheri, Im only drinkin ginger ale. Here Smith, want a sip? As Smith downed at least half of Johns beverage, Yony spoke Serge, mo frere, Im afraid that you can-not stay too long. I desire Johnny to get a little sleep before he faces The Ultimate Won. Ol TomatoWhats the ol tomato? Mo Cher, you may jest now, but when some people face this challenge, they are not quite the same after, if they come back at all. said Yony very gravely. I pray that your own buoyant heart carries you through this last of our challenges known as The Rite of The Sabre! It would a few hours yet before Badmoon had to face down this most private of fears, but already J.B. felt in his belly a gurglin an a twitchin start on a kinna because to happen. Well I guess Ill be going then, guys. Ill be seeing you all soon enough, when The Clinchpoop is ship shape and in Bristol fashion. A bientot then! spoke Serge. It was after Thee Moor had left that Yony replied John, its time for you to take a nap. I have to prepare my artifacts now that will enhance your journey. Were leaving for La-Mont park just before High Moon. Please try to get some rest now. W-what about tomorrow? Itll be a Monday you know and Ill have to work. Mo Cher, if you pass this most crucial of tests when I send you to meet your most Ultimate of Foes, you surely will not have to worry about living an ordinary life ever again. said Yony very mysteriously. And if I fail? You might slip deeper into the depths of dementia than ever before. Or you could continue living a life and lie of utmost ba-nality. Orbut enough, the choice, as always, is up to you. Without further adieu, Yony hushed her lover off to bed and soon John was fitfully asleep. Poring over a book of arcane lore, she then was able to revive her very adept skills at spaework(thats spell work for yall norm ills.) Reaching into her pirate chest for a knapsack, Yony also withdrew a vol-uminous hooded black robe. The Laedi then took a few small items from her shelf, though it was Ochully her altar or harrow. This stuff consisted of her pouch of rune stikks, a tarot deck and of course, from her kitchen, a bagged lunch for grounding afterwards. She then put all this in her knapsack along with her crystal ball. In point of fact, it was the very same ball that Uncle Owen had slipped on. Having gotten from its sacred space tucked out of harms way--from itself and towards others, natch!--she retrieved her Rune staff. Feeling thus that all was in order, she gently woke Our Lads up. Soon enough all were ready to go. Laedi Mahermaboni was secure in the knowledge that theyd be quite safe in La-Mont Park for she had turned on her Rolo-trix Cloaking Device so very necessary to plotlines like these and to DEU EX MACH-INA like yours truly. She also had a permit from thee local POLice to make a small fire. Yony also knew that the local constabulary wouldnt come around for the nearest donut shop was having a twofer one special. Jim DStykk had set it all up. He was part time night shift manager at said donut emporium. The little troop arrived at the park. They set their small soiree under a certain maple tree.
91

Soon Uncle Owen and Serge showed up too. THIS is MOST curious! thought J.B. Did anybody bring the marshmallows? asked Yony. I did. said Uncle Owen. And I got the wienies! exclaimed Serge. Are you bragging or complaining?! chortled Uncle Owen. Ho! Ho! A fellow of infinite jest! re-posted The Moor! Enough, Guys! I must make ready with JohnJohnny, pay attention! Ive just laid out objects that might seem strange to you. They are really only to be used by the two of us together to help focus our energies or KI on the journey which draws nigh. They are but toys when compared to the power of The Three: Mind, Body and Spirit. BUT those too, are insignificant when gauged against THE SOL! The runestikks are a tool for meditating as well as the cards and crystal ballIt is the ball that I now appeal to you to gaze upon. RelaxLet your body be at ease. Your thoughts are as a mist, let them dissolve Yony spoke with a very low key and soft monotone As Yony droned on with her charge, Uncle Owen and Serge got a cheerful little blaze going. Brewskies were passed around and even The Cat joined in the frolics. J.B. began to fixate on the crystal. Presently he felt himself drawn into the sphere Okay, guys, this is it. Our little horror show has begun. said Yony, full of liver-wurst. They all gathered round John and the crystal. On the dark blanket, which Red Tresses had spread before them, was a scene like no other in all their combined ReKnew-als. Badmoon tumbled and was tossed along his way through a dark void. Alone, except for an occasional glimpse of other lost souls, he was quite not yet, ascared. The Shrieks of Perdition were everywhere! Gradually, a soft reddish light began to slip into J.B. konkshishness. His feet at last seemed to tread on solid ground. Wherever he was be-gan to take on a certain definition. The reality of where he was, crystal-wise that is, began to slap him upside d head with a very pungent salty atmosphere. A dark rust colored sky, just hinting at even-ing, roiled above him. The terrain was rocky and hot. He found himself to be dressed in a red karate shirt and green cargo pocket pants, the then current rage among the ig-norantae of Qarth. The Esotericae knew them truly as B.D.Us or Battle Dress Uni-forms. To top it all off, at the bottom of him-self, he was barefoot! The ground--such as it was--was toasty warm. Not bad, so far! said Serge. SSSSHHHHH! said three other throats! Making his way through this lost land, Badmoon came upon a figure sitting upon a knoll. The person was in a cross legged po-sition and placed on a buffalo robe. A huuuge buffalo skull was centrally located on the skin. The figure seemed to be con-templating it. Raising its eyes at J.B.s approach, it spoke Oh, its you again?! What have you done this time?!Wait a minute. Youre not my three oclock! Who-might-you-be? I was praying that you might give me some answers in that direction. John said. John noticed that the person was beginning to look vaguely familiar. On the buffalo robe, next to the skull, was a highly polished sabre. It reflected like a mirror. Badmoon gurgle twitched at
92

the sight of it. Ahhh, Msieur, I see that you covet my toothpick. Not on your life! Who are you? I AM called by SUM: ODHINN (Breath/Spirit), WAKAN TAKAN (Great Mystery), ORENDA (Power), GOD and considerably so much more that to name them all would take up too much time that we have for you in your present Life, eh? BUT you can call meDEU (THAT which Is TRUE) Does he have a copyright yet?! said Uncle Owen in hushed tones. I see what you mean! spoke Yony Thats MY Bud! meowed Smith. Beck in the Crystal What IS this place? asked Badmoon. I like to call it KOR. Some refer to it as BARDS ZOOM! Or VALHALLA or if yer so inclined, AVALON. Others such as the weak and sick, name it as Hels Domain, Hades or Perdition. It is in the blink of an eye and that of an I. It lays between heart beats. It is as close as your own heart and as far as the most distant star. Take yer pick! Its all up to you! I, and my Realm, are your yin to your yang. I can be your bridge across troubled waters. I can be the maelstrom below What about The Sabres Rite? pestered John. Its always THAT! You damn novices! Im lost! I have no faith! Ill ransom wha-tever! Ya make me sick! Filthy little puke stocking! Peevish sort, aint he? thought John. I resemble that remark! exclaimed DEU. Hunh?! went Badmoon. I know you like a book! I know your thoughts, your deeds. Havent you guessed by now, Skootch?! Pick up that sabre. Look onto its polished and so very finely etched blade, served by The Won for aeons Be-yond Count. Tell me what you see. Badmoon did as he was commanded to do M-my eyes. said he. Now, look into MY eyes. said DEU. Indeed, as John gazed into his adversarys eyes, DEU subtly changed into Johns twin! What-what-but-who?! spoke Badmoon. Need I say more, Mo Frere? Dont ya see, Johnny? said DEU softly with com-passion. Comprehension finally it him upside the head as fast as toilet paper goes in a family of twelve HAW HAW HAW! Badmoon belly laughed uproariously for five minutes. I think youre finally ready for The Rite of The Sabre or whatever way you wish to call it. spoke DEU, Stand straight and tall before me.Good! Give me your Is! Here goes. Repeat after me: May The Edge be Worthy Of The Blade. May The Blade be Worthy Of The Hilt.
93

May The Hilt be Worthy Of The Hand. May The Hand be Worthy Of The Heart. May The Heart be Worthy Of The SELF. J.B. completed his vows. DEU gave him the sabre thus saying Do with it as you will. It has served me well down the aeons. But one last request from me. Bring the edge of the blade across your right palm. Draw blood. As you can see, Ive already done so to myself. Badmoon felt the edge cut into the flesh of his palm. Now grasp my hand in Eternal Fraternity and make just Won more Pledge I AM I You are You WE Are. Instantly afterwards, DEU proclaimed! Congratulations, Johnny! Youve just sworn eternal featly to The Family AsAre or what ever those inveterate Saturday night poke-her players calls themselves now a days! Badmoon then took the sabre and in one swift motion brought it down on his uplifted knee and broke it! Wh-what-but-who! went DEU! If I am to survive and thrive as a STAR then it shall be by my wits alone and not by any specific weapon or tool! exclaimed John! Author! Author! Bravo! Well met, good fellow! John, it is time to for us to bid adieu. But remember Ill always be here for you. Au revoir! Wait! One last question. Why do all the people I meet know Gaulish? It is the language of Diplomacy. More importantly, however, it is the language of PASSION! said GOD, er rather, DEU. A Bien tot! With a final embrace that only equals can ever know and share, J.B. felt himself being pulled back

FAIT ACCOMPLI
Badmoon slowly began to feel himself be-ing pulled back through The Chaos of Per-dition. As he was driven, by LOVE only knows, passed Ginningagap, he started pounding his chest with his fists LOOK! Mes Amis! Whats he doing?! said The Being of Strength and Humor! I-I dont know! Owen, whats he doing?! Relax, my kinsmen. John knows exactly what hes doing, doesnt he, Smith? replied The Being of Intellect and Guidance. Oui, mo Capitan, mo Capitan! said The Faithful Friend. What then, is he doing? Maybe we should call an ambulance! said the ignorant ones!
94

As your senior officer, Im commanding you both, Body and Spirit, to relax! Theres no amount of scientific bru ha ha that can alter his path nowThe pounding of Johns chest is His way of offering to The Verse His Life and dedication. Much as The Plain Rewdstirs perceive that Ta-tanka The Bull or Pta The Cow offer their flesh so that others may live. went Uncle ODHINN, er rather, Owen. Dont you damn humans see?! John is seizing the day! He is NOT suicidal! spoke Smith emphatically. John has now come into his own as a warrior. Before his incarceration in a Yar-golean loony bin, John was also a warrior. But he possessed such zest for LIFE that it led to his own destruction. Now, years after complying with societys regime, hes rip-ped himself free of the wasteland. Now at long last, he is a true warrior. Having faced his Greatest of Foes, himSelf, he can now rely on himSelf as his greatest of allies Yony, I think its time to reel him in. Serge, what say you and I go home. The Clinch-poop sails tomorrow and I want her ready. said Uncle Owen. A-auntie EmA-auntie Em, is that you? murmured Badmoon softly. Stupeeed Yankee! Americain buffoon! Who said that? Korby? I thought he was dead! Whats an Americain? asked John. Those voices that you hear, Johnny, are Korbys brood. Theyre just about ready to leave homeand so are we, mo Cher. spoke Yony. But first we have to go back to my apartment to get a few things. We leave in the morning for Yargolan, your home. Dont look sp glum, sweetie. Ive got something that should make you happy! What? A stomach remedy? No silly! This! and with that Yony withdrew from her knapsack his ol flute, the one that Uncle Owen had given him. Cmon, Johnny, play us a tune! they all pleaded. You know it dont work! Youll never know until you do it. said Uncle Owen. Hesitantly Badmoon began to tootle. Suddenly the air was filled with notes! It was a rather noisy raucous affair, but at last the flute could be heard. Thats wonderful, Sweetie!Ooooh, look! Your right hand is bleeding! ex-claimed Yony! Slipping his flute into to his belt, J.B. ex-amined his hand. Sure as shinola there on the palm of his hand was a gash! The blood was just starting to dry. Looking around at his friends, Badmoon saw something that they all failed to notice and shouted Hey look! It aint just on my hand! Its all on yours, too! For there in the palms of their right hands was the sign of
95

The Rite of The Sabre! they all ex-claimed! Man, John, when you put on a show, you really make it real! said Serge. I told you my Johnny was a first class bard! replied Uncle Owen proudly. How will I know other STARS, Uncle Owen, when I meet them? asked Badmoon. The way they laugh, the way they cryWhen you come across a stranger as a friend youve hadnt met yet and it seems like youve known each other foreverIf they have a certain je ne sais quois pas, that certain I dont know what quality best expressed by a simple smile and a twinkle in their Is as well as their eyes. THOSE are marks of a STAR. No dragon or tiger scars in THIS mans league! Oh, before we all start balling, Johnny, Ive got a lil trinket I felt you might find useful. Here, catch! yelled The Moor. Badmoon nearly missed the object but was nimble enough and caught it. It was just like the silver embossed onyx ring with the pen-tacle on it that Serge wore during his Grael test. He tried it onIt fit perfectly! Thanks, Serge! Whyd you give me such a fine ring? Its far more than a mere ring, mo frere. Its a communicator. It acts just like Dix Trakies wrist radio or Captain JIMs little box. To activate it just say open channel D. Its designed for all field agents. Before we all depart for some much needed shut eye, I feel that its time to attend also to another, perhaps more grave af-fairMo confreres last request. He was a bon amie. He was my Light to my Dark. The Key to my Lock. Though a Brother of The Winned, Korby was a solid perch for my oft flighty extremes. We burn him now in an in-stant so that his spirit can wend its way to whatever Volholl there is for Avian Kin. said The Laedi, softly. So saying the small assemblage including The Cat, who had a firebrand clenched in his jaws, placed The Flames of Release upon the little cardboard box containing Msieur Korby Stinqfethur. The pyre consumed the box in minutes. The quiet of Reverence as well as Long Remembrance held sway After a respectful interval, Yony and J.B. doused the flames. A few minutes later and what passed as normalcy for them all, re-turned. Well, guys, I think its time for some shut eye. spoke Yony. Well see you in the morning Sayonara! exclaimed Thorr, er, rather, Serge. Alohah said Uncle Owen. Gnight, yall! replied Badmoon. John and Yony decided to spend the rest of the night at LaMont Park. Smith chose to go hunting up a midnight snack. In the mean-time Unh, Sweetie, if you can rise to the occasion, you know, we can love in honor of your winning the mead of wisdomslaying your dragonAnd putting up with all our nonsense of these past few months. What do you say?! asked Yony. Within seconds they were boinking away to beat the band. Later, after their libidos were satisfied, they fell asleep. Their twain snores could be heard until dawn. They then hurried back
96

to Yonys pad to clean up and pack. Seducing Badmoon with a kiss, Yony told him to close his eyes. It was the hottest, sensual and lingering lip lock J.B. had eber had in all his lib long days. When allowed to open his eyes! Yony! Whatever happened to your place?! And just look at us! Naked as jay birds! The black and white grid that you see around us now, my Johnny, is whats known as a Holy Deck. Havent you leARNed by now that we STARs live in a world of illus-ion? This, however, I do know to be true, my love for you. spoke Freya, er, rather, Yony. So, tell me true then, has everything been a mere faade, ma Cheri? All the things which dealt with passion, spirit and your mind were as real as you made them be. So here we are, as defense-less and naked as when were first born. And so I suppose that Ive just gone through some sort of rebirth? asked John. C. Badmoon. All of humanity at one time or another must go through The Crucible of The Holy Deck when faced with Crisis. We are all indeed reborn with fire and ice in a bi-polar exchange of Spirit. So then they all headed UpTower and The Clinchpoop. Smith padded proudly along-side and couldnt help but notice the slight jiggle of Yonys firm flesh. On the way up to the top, Badmoon had finally gotten used to the fact that all the folk they encountered were just as naked as they were. Gaining the berth of the airship, the trio was brought to the bridge. J.B. greeted Uncle Owen with a big embrace and likewise Serge. He noted with awe how young Uncle Owen seemed. Even The Moor appeared more powerful than ever before. Uncle Owen, the ship seems so different! said John. Yes, I know Johnny! replied Uncle Owen, Weve had it refitted with the latest technologies. To the untrained eye, its still the same ol Clinchpoop. But those-in-the-know really realize it for just what it is! A Bi-polar powered cranium driven, cerebel-lum shielded warp crashing rift splitting stealth whispering dragon prowed and proud JING Ript ship capable of cosmos spanning adventures in a single thought! G-Golly! Thought youd be impressed! Johnny, when you finally settle down at your trading post spoke Uncle Owen. Trading post?! exclaimed Badmoon. Oh?! Dint I tell ya, you, Yony and Smith are going to be running an enterprising little affair in The Holler, a section of The Kardell Ridge Mountain Range. There youll be making regular contact with this man Uncle Owen then reached over and pressed a button on the touch screen of his comp in front of him. Uncle Owen then stated Wilknot Shattered. The colleagues of his jag team are Leo Kneadme and DeFrost Beau MacWhine. Badmoon then said rather suddenly! I-I know that guy! Aint that wily Bill call me JIM Gurck and his mate, Boopsie?! I dont know the other gent though. Right you are, Johnny-O! This time his current moniker is Pasquenez, a Gaulish Voyager. He is a master of disguise. But then, arent we all?! Unh, Uncle Owen, before we leave said J.B. What do you mean, leave?! Were already there! chortled Uncle Owen.
97

I just wanted a quick hand of muffin. Weeeeellll, why dint ya say so?! Cmon, all lets retire to The Gaming Room! About a half hour later as the craft hovered so very high in the sky above The Trading Post, they finished the last hand of cardsand Badmoon still lost! Well, Johnny, its about time to go said Uncle Owen. Giving his Uncle a tearful embrace as well as The Moor, they were then digitized down (Chuckle) to what was to be Their Realm. Serges last words to them were Ill see you in the fall, Jeremiah, oops, I mean, Johnny! Have a nice honeymoon, Mrs. Johnson, er rather, Yony! About a week later, after getting their post all straightened out, Badmoon was happily chopping wood and carrying water, all the while singing a cheerful lil shanty about Lil Sally Racket outside. A lone figure, naked as himself, approached him, with no stealth or malice in mind, directly from within The Woods. Msieur, I really must apologize for my forwardness, but I really cannot not find too much favor with your singing. However, here is one thing that I do like and that is a man that sings a universal song of brother-hood while he works. No matter the words, mo ami, it is a buoyant heart that brings tears of joy to my eyes! Wilknot Shattered? asked J.B. Oui, but remember, I am now Pas-quenez! hushed The Man. is Ma Belle Ami, is she still around? If you mean Yony, ya shes in the post. Tell me something if you would, please, mo ami. Was it worth the pane? Huhn, what pain? spoke Badmoon. Yknow, The Combat SpirAll. The Great Spiral of Life. Life of Eternal Spirit. Death to mere flesh. We all contest within the arena and after we get our fifteen minutes of fame, pass on our way so a new generation can enjoy the view, nest-ce pas, mo Frere? Clasping each others forearms as only Won Warrior Tu another can ever dare, Badmoon noted the ring of embossed onyx on one of Pasquenez fingers. The ring a communing sigil? asked J.B. Certement, mo ami. By the way, do you have any toback on you? My current pet project is looking after a guy named Jere-miah Johnston. I wish to offer him some so he can make High Palaver with The Rewdstirs. Just a second and Ill have my wife, er, Yony, bring out my pouch and pipe along with a couple of bottles of cold brine. You like brine? It is my favorite drink. Cest vrai! So, tell me about Jeremiah Johnston. said John. Not much to tell. An archetypical tale most assuredly. Basically it is about the Tao and how a MAN faces HIMSELFAhhhhh here is our petite Cheri now! Arn, er,Mark, er rather just what or whom are you calling yourself these daze?! asked Yony with a wink in her eyes as she lightly gave the new comer a peck on his cheek. Ma Belle, you may call me ABBA. spoke The Man. Sweetie, I brought you your flute. I thought that you might like to share with ABBA your latest composition. replied Yony.

98

Please do. Id be honored. And perhaps Yony, if thats what she presently calls herself, will join me in a dance. For are we not all LoreDs of The Dance?! spoke Pasquenezor ABBA, er Wilknot Shattered, er, JIM Gurck er, ad nausea Badmoon tootled on his flute a saucy number called Donkey Riding. Soon they all, including Smith who had been dozing nearby, pranced and danced alive and about in The Glade near The Trading Post. A few minutes later, flushed with fatigue, they all paused in their routine Uhn, Johnny, Sweetie, Ive got some great good news I want to share with you and now that were all here, nows the perfect time to say it spoke Yony. Gurgle Johann Corad BadmoonIm Pregnant! TWITCH!

THEND!

99