Oh, right. Arthur's posts don't show up in the Usenet group. So I
shall have to boost. My own comments shall appear at the end.
Scott
On 2024-07-05 11:09, Arthur Spitzer wrote:
The RACCCON 2024 Presents:
***** MOST IMPORTANT SUPERHERO TEAM EVER *****
**** #MOST IMPORTANT NUMBER ****
*** ONE ISSUE EVER ***
By Rob Rogers and Arthur Spitzer
[Cover: There was a Cover That was The Most Important Cover Ever!
And THIS — Was that cover!!!]
Somewhere in the Milky Way Galaxy there's an Earth that's
kind of like Earth. Let's call it Basically Earth. And on this
Basically Earth there was a man that no matter how badly he screwed
up always got rewarded for it.
Teachers were incredibly impressed by him failing even the
most simplest of tasks and just had to have him skip grade after
grade. By the age of eight he had failed his way into High School.
And by ten, he had failed his way to a College Degree. By fourteen
-- a Doctorate. By eighteen, he needed a challenge so he joined
the Marines.
On the first day of bootcamp, the Drill Sergeant was so
incredibly impressed by his extreme inability to do even one
pushup that he took him aside and said with complete sincerity,
"Kid -- You should be the Drill Sergeant!"
And so he became The Drill Sergeant Failup. And then Captain Failup. And then Major Failup. And Eventually by the Age of 22
--Supreme General Failup of all Earth's armies in the battle
against The Christicanthinkupagoodname Intergalactic Empire
(a space empire made up various conquered alien species headed
by a race of highly intelligent and very adorable looking koalas).
Which didn't go very well for Basically Earth and so Supreme
General Failup need to be promoted once again.
And that's how he became the new leader of Basically Earth's
Most Important Superhero Team Ever -- which also happened to be
the team's name.
**** MOST EVER !!!! *****
"Arrrghhhhh!!! I can't believe this idiot is our new leader!!" raged Great-Utopia-Plans-If Anyone-Would-Listen Lass. "He lost
the war! And in less than a week at that!! We're being ruled
by Super Intelligent Koalas!!"
"Yeah, have you seen them on TV? They're so adorable!"
said Close Attention Lad.
Great-Utopia-Plans-If Anyone-Would-Listen Lass just glared
at Close Attention Lad. "God. I'm going in there. And I'm
going to tell him all these great ideas I have to change the
world for the better. And I don't care if he doesn't listen
to me! I don't care!! No, I really, really don't!!!!"
"Well," said Close Attention Lad backing slightly away as
if he had seen this same movie many times before. "Good Luck
with that."
**** MOST EVER !!!! *****
Supreme General Failup sat with his hands nicely placed
behind his head. He was sitting on a very comfy chair, and with
his feet planted on top of the desk in front of him, he
was in a very relaxing position. And right as he was about to
whistle a happy tune, this angry costumed woman with a huge
stack of folders came storming into his office and violently
slammed all of those folders onto his desk. "Umm?"
"These are all my plans about how to best fully utilize
this superhero team of ours to change the world for the better!
It's all there! Every single great plan for Utopia I've ever
had! And, yes, I know you're probably going to say -- Is a
Utopia even possible -- a world where ever single person is happy?
And, yes, that probably isn't actually possible. What I'm
thinking of is more like a Comfortopia type World. I mean, take me
for instance -- I have everything I could possiblly need -- a
nice house, clothes, a loving boyfriend, and all kinds of
other material junk that I really don't need. I have
everything and none of it makes me happy! I'm very miserable.
And that's sort of what I want to the rest of the world.
Even the most unlucky, unfortunate soul should have my level
of comfort. And will that make them happy? Probably not.
But that's life!" And then she took a deep breath.
"Umm? I'm sorry. I really am trying trying to pay attention
to what you're saying -- but... there's this really shiny paperclip
right over there," General Failup said picking the paperclip right
up. "Wow, that's one shiny paperclip! Man, what do people use
these things for? I guess that's one of those questions that no
one really knows the answer to." General Failup had a rather
intense philosophical look on his face.
"Okay. It's not your fault. It's my power. It's my curse.
I have all these amazing ways to make the world so much better
than it is, but my powers cause everyone to not pay any attention
to anything I ever say. My boyfriend Close Attention Lad is the
only one who ever listens to me and he has to really use his
powers very hard to do that. I mean sure it does have its uses
in distracting people and I can use my power to sneak into places
because people refuse to pay attention to..."
"Wow. That mouth of yours is really going -- but I just
can't... look Miss Umm... I forgot that incredibly long name
you gave me. How about I just call you Yappy Lass.
Is that fine?"
"No. That's absolutely not..."
"Okay. Yappy Lass it is. Look. I know you probably don't
like this. You're probably thinking about how you'd be much better
at running this whole team than me. Or maybe how anyone else
would probably be more qualified to run it than me. And, hey,
you'd be right! I don't know why people keep putting me in
these assignments. I guess getting jobs that I'm incredibly
unqualified for getting paid a lot of money is my burden to bear.
Look. I imagine I'm not going to be here that long. After I
fail some missions here I'll probably move onto something way
better than this stupid gig. Perhaps I'll eventually be made
like Emperor of the Looniverse or something like that."
"Could you just read these folders? I've put tons of time
into them. This one here," she said pointing to a red folder,
"Could get us on the fasttrack to Utopia. I mean some of the
ideas might be a little ethically problematic -- like the one
about Brainwashing certain difficult world leaders. But, hey,
sometimes you have to brainwash World Leaders! Sometimes you
just need to do that!!"
"Read?" Supreme General Failup began to look very
uncomfortable. "Not really my thing. Hey, maybe you could make
a bunch of fun TikTok videos to convey all these great ideas
you have. Maybe have some cute animals do dance moves in them.
I really like those!"
Great-Utopia-Plans-If Anyone-Would-Listen Lass balled her
hand into a fist and felt this great urge to punch the World.
**** MOST EVER !!!! *****
"Don't you see?" the caped figure told the assembled
collection of silhouettes gathered around a long table. "If we
don't strike now, he will..."
"Do what?" one of the silhouettes asked. "He's just failed to protect the entire Earth from being taken over by an empire of
marsupials. What possible threat could he pose to our plans?"
"EXACTLY!" the caped figure declared, slamming his fist
down on the table and bringing up the lights on the assembled
former silhouettes, who blinked for a moment before the lights
went off again.
"We really ought to get around to paying that electricity
bill," one of the silhouettes said.
"Sorry," the first silhouette said. "You were saying?"
"The General has failed so many times -- so many, many
times -- that very soon his powers will wrap right around again
and cause him to succeed! And we! Cannot! Let! That! HAPPEN!"
"You were right," the second silhouette said to the first.
"He really would have made a great motivational speaker."
"Wait," the first silhouette said. "What exactly is it that
his failure, or success, is wrapping around?"
"It would be difficult to describe... difficult for anyone
else even to comprehend. Anyone who lacks..." Suspenseful music
began playing before someone realized it was his ring tone and
quickly shut it down.
"...the BOARD VISION!" the caped figure concluded, to the
thunderous applause of everyone in the room.
"As chairman of the BOARD VISION BOARD, you have our full
support, of course," the first silhouette said. "What exactly is
your plan?"
"First," the Board Vision said, "I will manifest greatness."
Applause broke out again.
"Second," the Board Vision continued, "second, I will visualize victory!"
This time, the board broke into a standing ovation.
"And finally," the Board Vision said, "I will maximize my core competencies in order to bring about meaningful, sustainable
change!"
The applause that followed was so prolonged and enthusiastic
that three board members passed out, while another's head exploded.
**** MOST EVER !!!! *****
The Board Vision smiled, and began swirling his cape around
his body. The surviving board members took the hint, each choosing
to look in another direction so that the Board Vision could quietly
depart using the back door.
"And now," the Board Vision said, once he had progressed
far enough down the stairwell that he was fairly certain no one
could hear him, "now it is time to spring my trap -- a plan so
diabolically inept, so utterly and completely dysfunctional, that
it would be impossible for even the greatest imbecile in
human history to fail... which will force Supreme General FailUp
to succeed... which will become his greatest failure... and my
revenge will be complete!"
He paused, several steps later. "I guess I should have said
that upstairs," he said before continuing.
**** MOST EVER !!!! *****
Later that afternoon, television broadcasts throughout the
Northeast corridor were interrupted by a special announcement.
"This just in," said the announcer, a summer intern who had
waited his entire life to say those words. "This afternoon, at
precisely two p.m., a naked man sprinted across the infield at
Tropicana Stadium holding a huge sign that said 'Most Important
Super-Team Ever! I Plan to Steal All the Palladium...' "
"And?" his co-anchor asked.
"That was it," the announcer said. "But at exactly the same
time, a naked man sprinted through the middle of the Charlotte
stock exchange carrying a sign that said 'From Fort McHenry,
Using My Giant Robot!' "
"Wow," said his co-anchor, a strikingly attractive brunette
woman. "It's almost as though someone wanted to publicize some
kind of event without having to pay for it! This raises all kinds
of questions!"
"Yes," the anchor said. "For example, do they really store
palladium at Fort McHenry? Who goes to Charlotte to trade stocks?
And was there even a crowd at Tropicana Stadium?"
"Actually," his co-anchor said, "I was going to say, 'Where
would anyone find so many naked sprinters so close to the Olympics?'
And that's a lead-in to today's sports report. Over to you, Gil!"
**** MOST EVER !!!! *****
The midday sun shone pools of burnt magenta on the waters
outside Locust Point when the enormous robot approached Fort McHenry National Park.
"And it was while watching the bombardment of this very fort
that prisoner of war Francis Scott Key was inspired to write a poem
that would become our national anthem," a tour guide told a crowd
of enthusiastic visitors. "Does anybody have any questions?"
"WHERE IS YOUR PALLADIUM?" the giant robot roared.
"Oooh, here at the National Parks, we raise our hands!" the
tour guide said. "Yes? Little boy in the back?"
"Why would a country founded on liberty choose as its national
anthem a song written by a slave holder that celebrates the
institution of slavery?"
"Good question, good questions all," the tour guide said.
"I'll go with the metal man first. Palladium storage is down the
hall, down the stairs, past the gift shop, and through the
triple-reinforced iron doors with the laser grid bars. Have a
nice day!"
**** MOST EVER !!!! *****
"Pay Lady Deum?" said a very confused Phil Lupper aka Supreme
General Failup.
"No! Palladium!! It's a metal used for Catalytic Converters!"
fumed Greta Tupi, aka Great Utopia Plans If Anyone Would Listen
Lass.
"Hey, superguy next to her. Could you translate what she's saying. Everytime Yappy Lass opens her mouth I have this
incredible urge to look at a paperclip."
"She said it's a metal used for Catalytic Converters," said
Clark Tent aka Close Attention Lad looking very closely at the rage
filled face of his girlfriend. "Look we should probably send a
team!"
"I guess," said Supreme General Failup not too thrilled at the prospect of leaving his comfy desk. "Well, then. Everyone to the
Monster Important Truck!!"
The robot stomped its way down the halls. Its body was a seven-foot-tall rectangular wonder of spinning dials, blinking
lights and aperatures that opened and closed constantly, each
apparently hiding some sort of weapon, probing device or (in one
case) a packet of Slim Jims. Its head was a rotating fishbowl
swirling with green mist with one fiery, unblinking eye hovering
in its center. Its legs were metallic, misshapen, and several,
giving the entire creature the appearance of a spider that had
been partially, but not entirely, crushed by a vending machine.
The mechanical monster tottered forward on its gleaming legs
along the path laid for it by the tour guide, pausing only to
purchase a shot glass and one of those squashed penny souvenirs
from the Fort McHenry gift shop before coming to a rest before a
pair of iron doors marked "Palladium Storage: Staff and
Authorized Visitors Only."
With a hideous grinding noise that sounded as if a dying
jukebox had decided to take up gargling in its last moments, the
robot opened up one of its aperatures, extended a long aluminum
probe, and displayed an Authorized Visitor pass. In moments the
laser grid had disappeared, the iron doors had rolled open,
and the robot's single eye found itself staring at...
**** MOST EVER !!!! *****
...a young woman smiling towards a phone on the end of a
selfie stick, making little "number two" gestures with her
fingers.
"What's up, fanbase? Today we're slumming it in Baltimore
for a visit to historic Fort McHenry, where those in my Platinum
Plus Patreon categories will get to watch me make off with a small
fortune in processed palladium! So go ahead and smash those 'like' and'subscribe' buttons, because..."
The robot made the closest possible approximation of clearing
its throat.
"Heyyy," the young woman said. "Wish I could stop to chat
with a fan, but I'm right in the middle of a recording sesh, so
laters."
"I AM HERE TO ROB THIS DEPOSITORY OF ITS PALLADIUM," the
robot insisted.
"Whoa! Plot twist! Have to admire the fire!" the young woman said, before pausing for nearly two minutes of coughing. "But it
will take more than being a die-hard try-hard to overcome the
feverish following of this doyenne of disease at the intersection of infection -- can I hear a shoutout from all y'all for the
woman who puts the 'sick' back in 'success,' THE INFLUENZER!"
**** MOST EVER !!!! *****
"Okay. My bad!" Supreme General Failup said while dusting
himself off as he backed away from the blazing wreckage of
The Monster Important Truck. "Although you probably shouldn't
have let me do the driving. That's on you."
Greta wondered how much trouble she'd get into if she
murdered this moron. Calm down, just need to take some deep
breaths and...
"So, you have any more of these trucks or are we just going to
have to hitchhike there?"
But just as Clark took out his comm.thingee to try and get a
backup vehicle, a mysterious black car zoomed next to them.
"Need a lift?" said a very mysterious looking dude wearing
some shades and covered in shadows.
"And you are?" said Greta with a very suspicious look.
"Name Later."
"Um, no. Name Now. Who are you?"
"Look. This guy looks pretty trustworthy and I don't feel
like walking all the way to Baltimore. And hey, what's the worst
that could happen?" Supreme General Failup said quickly
hopping into the vehicle.
"Fine. I already know that this is going to be the worst
idea ever and I hope I survive long to tell you all that I told
you so when it all goes to hell!" Greta looked at seat belt in the
car which was just a bunch of chains.
"So, where to?" said Name Later with a wicked grin on his shadow
covered face.
**** MOST EVER !!!! *****
"WELL," the robot said. "THIS IS AWKWARD."
"I know, right?" the Influenzer said. "Hey, I mean, we could totally do a collab on this? Like, both of us? I mean, especially
if we're about to do battle with the Most Important Superhero Team?"
The robot held up one of its many appendages, which held an
Apple watch.
"THEY REALLY OUGHT TO HAVE BEEN HERE BY NOW," the robot said.
"We could, like, count the palladium while waiting for them to
show?"
"VERY WELL," the robot said, as one of its aperatures irised
open. "I BROUGHT TOTE BAGS."
"Hey, yeah! The Influenzer and her chrome-plated compadre are reppin' recyclability, y'all!" she declared, holding her selfie
stick high while shoveling chunks of the shining metal into one of
the bags. "Like to give a shout out to..." she looked at one of
the tote bags. "The Board Vision Board! Give it up for livin'
large with larceny!"
"Not so fast, you net.native nemesis!" came a voice from
the other side of the vault.
"FINALLY," the robot said, as the Influenzer found herself
completely surrounded by several layers of durable paper.
"What the hella uncool?" the Influenzer coughed. "You're not
part of the Most Important Superhero Team!"
"Not yet," admitted a young man dressed in a red bodysuit with
a stylized image of two silver hands holding an iPhone. "But
today... justice comes wrapped up like a birthday present, courtesy
of... THE DOOMSCROLLER!"
**** MOST EVER !!!! *****
"YOUR SUPER-POWER IS TO WRAP PEOPLE UP IN SCROLLS?" the
robot asked.
"That would be my guess," the Influenzer wheezed.
"Only when I'm thinking of something awful," Doomscroller
admitted. "Like just now, when I'm... damn! Can't get that
Dua Lipa song out of my head! It's just so darn catchy!"
"CATCH THIS!" the robot roared, bombarding the would-be hero
with a concentrated spray of assorted forks, knives and spoons.
"Ow! Ooh! Ugh!" the Doomscroller said. "Why the...
silverware?"
"THEY WERE SUPPOSED TO BE FOR GREAT UTOPIA PLANS IF ANYONE
WOULD LISTEN LASS," the robot explained. "THEY'RE ALL MADE BY
ONEIDA."
The Doomscroller looked confused.
"THE FORMER UTOPIAN COLONY IN UPSTATE NEW YORK?" the robot
said. "A UTOPIAN BEATEN BY A UTOPIA? IT'S SUPPOSED TO BE IRONIC."
"You need to work on that," the Influenzer mumbled through a
hacking cough.
"You won't have time to work on it, once you're all rolled up
in..." the Doomscroller began, before he was nearly deafened by
a blast from the android's speakers.
"BECAUSE I'M HAPPY -- CLAP ALONG IF YOU FEEL LIKE A ROOM
WITHOUT A ROOF," the robot sang.
"I really have to stop explaining how my powers work to every
villain I meet," Doomscroller muttered.
**** MOST EVER !!!! *****
"Hey!" Influenzer said. "You need to stop doing that!"
"That's what I _just_ said," Doomscroller said.
"No," the Influenzer coughed. "I mean, YOU -- robot you --
need to stop reciting the lyrics from copyrighted songs. I can't
afford to have YouTube ban me again."
"WAIT," the robot said. "THE HEROES HAVE ARRIVED!"
"Really?" Doomscroller asked, turning in the direction of the
door.
"NO," the robot said, hitting Doomscroller over the head with
a tote bag packed with palladium.
"I thought you were going for irony," Influenzer said, as the
robot began cutting through the thick paper surrounding her.
"MY ATTACK MAY NOT HAVE BEEN IRONIC," said the robot, as the Influenzer rubbed her arms and legs. "BUT IT WAS TOTES
PALLADIUM-IC."
"And this is why I try to keep bots off my channel,"
the Influenzer said.
**** MOST EVER !!!! *****
"Are you sure you want to go there? I mean there so many much better places to go than Baltimore."
"We don't want to go to Baltimore! No one wants to go to Baltimore! We have to -- to stop this Great Palladium heist!
Which we won't because Captain Screwup over there will find some
way to screw this all up so we won't accomplish anything! This is
all totally futile!! God, I hate my life..." Greta bit her lip as
she looked out the window.
"Oh, that's what you want? To save the world? But would
you really -- if you could. Save the World." Name Later made
his way onto the Washington/Baltimore Parkway.
"Yes! Of course that's what I want! I'm a Hero! Heroes
want to save the World!"
"Interesting. Well, if that's your desire..." And then
mysterious black car screeched to a halt. "Well here we are.
Destiny awaits."
"What? How did we...? It should be a least an hour drive?"
she stepped out of black car. They were in the vault and they
various super people hitting other super people with palladium.
She had this really weird feeling. And then she saw as Supreme
General Failup began to punch the hell out of some Robot monster
with a fish bowl head.
**** MOST EVER !!!! *****
"No. This makes no sense! We shouldn't have gotten here
this quickly. Something is very wrong," said Greta as everyone
else ignored her. And she tried to see where the Mysterious
Stranger had gone to. He and the black car had completely
vanished. And then she looked at the huge fight that was
happening. Better get into save the day mode. "Hey, everyone!
I'd like talk to you about how we can make the World a Better
Place!" And the sheer force with which she said caused everyone
(except for Close Attention Lad who unfortunately was paying way
too close attention to her and got smacked with one of the many
palladium sacks that were being thrown around) to block her out of
their minds.
And then an old redheaded man in a helicopter type suit
that was completely made of palladium burst into the scene.
"No no no! Stealing all of the Palladium in the World is my
Thing! No one else is allowed to do this! Stop all this
palladium manhandling at once!" And then he focused his finger --
his Palladium Finger -- on some super people who were busy
swinging palladium sacks. And palladium became alive.
**** MOST EVER !!!! *****
Absolute mayhem filled the vault. General Failup continued
his assault on the robot, who (which?) seemed unscathed. Great
Utopian Plans If Anyone Would Listen Lass plaintively explained
her latest idea for world harmony to the Influenza's army of
listeners, unaware that the Influenza was punctuating her speech
with an array of filters, snarky pop-up emojis and sounds of
flatulence. Close Attention Lad struggled to keep Palladium
Finger from bringing the entire hoard of palladium gathered at
Fort McHenry to life. Doomscroller remained resolutely unconscious
on the floor of the vault.
Things were, in short, not going well for the heroes.
Which is when it happened.
"WE SURRENDER," the robot chirped, a small white flag
emerging from its rectangular body. "YOU HAVE PREVAILED AGAINST
US. A WINNER IS YOU."
"Wait, what?" coughed the Influenzer.
"I don't remember signing on for this," said Palladium Finger.
"We... we won?" General Failup said.
And the room around him suddenly imploded...
**** MOST EVER !!!! *****
A week later....
"We are gathered here today to honor... to celebrate...
to venerate the life of someone who transformed the lives of
so many others," the Influenzer began.
Gone were the two-inch press-on nails, the three-inch
eyelash extensions and the five-inch stiletto heels. The
woman who stood at the gravesite in flowing white robes
and simple sandals spoke not in the lilting, singsong
timbre of a professional YouTuber but rather in the hushed,
reverent tones of a devotee.
"Like so many others, before I met the blessed Supreme
General Failup (praise to His Holy Name!), I cared only about
myself, about my brand, about my trillion followers and
whatever else was trending," the Influenzer said, pausing for
an extended coughing fit.
"I thought -- I believed! -- that life was about
achievement. That my goal should be success! That my worth
was defined by how many people were following me... more than
the population of Southeast Asia, at last count, but I no longer
care about these things," she continued, as a chorus of white-
robed acolytes behind her hummed "Amazing Grace."
"But he showed me the light!" the Influenzer said. "He
taught me that yes, faiure is an option! The only option!
That in a world where all of us are marked for the grave since
birth, where we bask in the rays of a sun that is doomed to
collapse, in a universe whose days are numbered and dwindling
-- in a world where even the tattoos we wear today as a celebration
of friendship or eternal love, or our trillonth follower, no one
is counting, will someday fade and stretch themselves across our
tired, sagging, bloated bodies -- then embracing the power of
failure is the key to unlocking our true potential! The potential
to accept ourselves as the dismal, miserable souls living in
quiet desperation that Thoreau -- and our blessed Supreme
General -- showed us we could be, if we only opened our eyes!"
"This just in," said a former summer intern for the local
news station, who had resigned his position several days earlier
in order to join the burgeoning cult that had formed around the
late leader of the Most Important Superhero Team. "Our beloved
General has just been canonized as a saint!"
"Was he even Catholic?" Doomscroller whispered to Greta,
who covered her face with her hands.
"I know," Doomscroller said, placing his hand on her
shoulder. "He was like a father to me, too. In fact, my own
father feels the same way, even though they never met. Which I
guess means that my father and I are kind of like brothers now.
Which feels weird. But also kind of nice. But mostly weird."
"All I cared about was palladium," said Palladium Finger,
who had ascended to the microphone after the Influenzer left to
thank her sponsors. "I had my reasons. Chief among them was
that anything I aimed my finger at turned to palladium. You
would not believe the number of traffic accidents I caused by
flipping off truckers before I realized what was happening. And
don't get me started on trips to the bath..." he began, before
noticing Doomscroller shaking his head.
"Our Supreme General... excuse me, our Saint FailUp...
taught me that life hadn't just given me the finger," Palladium
Finger said. "His holy wisdom... left behind for all of us
in these many, many indexed folders, praise be to the Prophet..
showed us that life has given _all_ of us the finger. And
rather than cry or curse our luck or... hypothetically speaking
... turn everyone into living statues of palladium (really sorry
about those two members of the chorus, by the way, though you
actually sound better without them) -- we need to accept the
finger that life has given us! Praise the finger! Pull the
finger..."
"And now, this," said the former television intern.
**** MOST EVER !!!! *****
Greta kind of rolled her eyes. And she looked at Clark
who was sitting next to her. "God this horrible. All of this.
I mean I didn't want this to happen. I mean I didn't like the
guy and was kind of hoping he would get brutally murdered,
but still. I mean I guess he saved us. Although it was more
like he imploded all over the place. God, is this woman ever
going to shut up! Still, its a sad day. Although, sacred
folders on his desk! I did that! Failup couldn't even read
much less write all this! And now this dead bozo is going to
get credit for all my ideas!"
"Does that really matter? Whoever gets the credit -- isn't
this a good thing? That people are starting to take these ideas
of yours seriously? Influenzer does have a trillion followers!"
"There aren't even a trillion people on this damn planet!
Most of those are bots! Look. I do get what you're saying.
And yes, even if I get absolutely no credit for any of this --
it's the World becoming a better place that is the real goal.
I mean sure it would be nice to actually get a Nobel Prize or
[continued in next message]
--- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05
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