And we're back in the past and can check the eyrie archive
once again.

Here's where you can find the whole Integrity Quest and well as
Amabel Holland's very nice Integrity Quest Companion, which is
well worth a read:

https://archives.eyrie.org/racc/lnh/Crossovers/


And we're still in the Integrity Quest storyline! Doug Wojtowicz and Hubert Bartels write episodes 19 and 20! Lost Cause Boy and Rochester face off against
Yakblood! Will John Byrne have time to save them?! And Is This The End of Panta?! And maybe just to be safe you should buy an extra Panta action
figure (along with those extra List Lad ones!!) Gotta Buy Them All!!

*Ahem* Anyhow...



_
| | Classic
| | =
| | ____ ____ _ ____ ___
| |__ | [] | | [] | | | | [] | | _ \

|____| \__] \__ | |_| \__/ |_|\_\
||
|_| OF NET.HEROES

ADVENTURES #274


=====================
Integrity Quest Part Eleven
=====================






-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I N T E G R I T Y Q U E S T

Reprinting the Integrity Quest books from 1993

Vol 3.3

In which there is a face-to-face confrontation between
Lost Cause Boy, Rochester and Yakblood. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- From: [email protected]
Subject: INTEGRITY QUEST Of Yaks and Youngblood.

NET.PATROL: Integrity Quest - part 19: Of Yaks and Youngbloods

--SPECIAL GUEST APPEARANCES BY THOSE ANNOYING CROSSPOST BROTHERS!!!!--
(The Fanboy Faves of alt.comics.lnh. All other gun toting maniacs
merely pale by comparison....)

WHAT HAPPENED SO FAR...
(When we last left off, the two less interesting characters, er.. Lost Cause Boy and Rochester, were walking off into the sunset after defeating the
evil Spitt and sending him to alt.fan.bugtown. However, little known to
they that their two erstwhile, and definately the cuter half of them,
allies had been captured by the evil forces of ERNIE. But that is merely a sidepoint as the pair rush into heated, brainless combat with Yakblood at
the Crossroads.)
(This issue's cover is a super rainbow foil hologram of Lost Cause Boy looking very confused as Rochester and Flintstone do heated battle.)

Lost Cause Boy looked at the parenthetical "what happened so far" box and paused for a moment. "Less interesting...?"

(Well, you've got that big muscle bound goof. Anarky has Panta with him. Which is more interesting?)

"Oh, so you're saying that wit and storytelling skill is less important than tits and ass? Fine, that does it, I'm quitting."

(Hey! Wait a minute!!! What's wrong now?)

"Jeez. Nothing's going my way. Character's not going where I want them to. Some stupid ninja going and killing us off in the middle of a pitched storyline. And I just got my ass kicked by Harras."

(I didn't write that. The only editor I had you fight...)

"Naw. It's in comics conspiracy. Don't you read what other people write?"

(I save it until the story's finished.)

Rochester tapped Lost Cause Boy on the shoulder. "The audience just fell
dead asleep. We're gonna have to wake them up."

Lost Cause Boy smiled wryly. "This'll wake them up all the way down to
wherever Rebel Yell posts from."

"No. Not... the WORD. Don't..."

"Woody."

The net suddenly came crashing wide open as the Legion of Net Heroes dropped everything, rushing towards Lost Cause Boy. Rochester cowered behind LCB,
who merely pressed the button on the plot device and barely avoided having
both of them trampled by a horde of angry heroes.

"You get stop hanging around my neck now Rochester," LCB said. "We're safely at the Crossroads..."

They looked around. It was a field of total whiteness. Their jaws were slack. The only thing to be seen was a huge sign.

THIS SPACE LEFT INTENTIONALLY BLANK. CROSSROADS MINI IS OVER.

LCB cocked an eyebrow. "Hmmm, he must have finished the work on it. Now it's just in production and distribution. So this place is safe from Defacto. But..."

Rochester dropped LCB's comic bag and he whirled. "Hey! Some of your First comics are starting to change color."

"They have color art..." LCB began.

"No you fool! The insides!!! They're... COMPUTER COLORIZED!!!!"

LCB whipped up several issues and gawked. Formerly clean looking art and subtle colorations were suddenly harsh and brilliant. And the fine paper had turned to cheesy newsprint. "My Sable... it's been Marvelized."

"That's the Crossroads he was talking about!" Rochester exclaimed. "Remember that big crossover in the first comics? Dreadstar, Nexus, Grimjack, Sable..."

"But first doesn't exist!" LCB exclaimed.

"But the characters still do. And they're divided up between Dark Horse and Tundra. That's how Defacto's getting at two universes at once!!!!"

LCB dropped his comics. "This is too big for us to handle. We're doomed.
Game over. It's forth and ninety yards man. Game over and we got no more tokens! What are we gonna do?!?!?"

Rochester slapped LCB. "Quit acting like that geek in Aliens! You're a net.hero dammit!"

LCB nodded, "Yeah. Action Lord must have boosted the Hicks Factor over in
the aliens book."

"It wasn't Hicks who acted like that in the movie..."

"Who gives a rat's butt? We're going in," LCB said. "Before I start becoming Cliche Dude..."

He knealt, opening up the one Dark Horse Comic that could never be tainted by the reek of ERNIE's hideous forces. Predator Vs. Batman. A vortex opened
up, and they were sucked down into the book, and it collapsed upon itself, returning to LCB's bag.

"How come this wasn't effected if ERNIE's already in Dark Horse?" Rochester asked.

"Marvel and DC cannot co-exist. Not since the JLA/Avengers crossover."

"There was no JLA/Avengers crossover though..."

"See what I mean?" LCB asked.

"Freeze... Rochester? What the hell are you doing here?" a voice called.

LCB and Rochester looked up, seeing a man holding a bow, the string taut, but with no arrow in it. Rochester hunched over. "String... we're going to have
to turn you back. You can't do this to the alternative comics universes."

String sneered. "We were born in an alternative comics universe. We have as much right to do as we please here as anywhere!"

"Uh, String, how can your bow and arrow work without any arrows?" LCB asked.

Suddenly, a shaft(tm) sprouted within LCB's shoulder, blood spraying everywhere. LCB went down as the other members of Yakblood suddenly surged forwards, Steeple, Slut, Flintstone, Goodyear, Thunderbird, and Beach Bimbo.

Rochester swelled and flexed, providing an impenetrable wall that everyone slammed into, stunned. However, the massive impact of rushing superheroes flattened Rochester, leaving him stunned as well.

LCB struggled with the shaft (tm) in his shoulder. He looked at it. There were no fletches on the end. There wasn't even a base notch. It looked like just some stick that a hack, no talent would draw. He even tasted the blood. It was paint. Had to have been. His arm spewed like it was a broken
ketchup bottle.

"Rochester! There are deadlier forces at work here than Yakblood! We have
a derranged artist on hand!!!" LCB called, rummaging for some art gum to
erase the drawing of his wound.

He looked up and saw Rochester running like hell towards him, eyes wide with fear. "Rochester?"

"Run! He's making more heroes!!!"

LCB looked behind Rochester and saw waves upon waves of costumed beings
rushing towards him, carrying bows without strings or shafts, or guns with
no grips, merely glued to the sides of hands. All of them had rictusi, and many had scars that flitted between the left and the right side, or glowing eyes. "I thought Yakblood only had 12 members..."

"We're the Guest Stars you fool!" the roared. "He summoned us! The creator
of Yakblood. He who is known as..."

"Not another he-who-is-known-as guy," LCB groaned.

"HACKMAN, THE FANBOY ARTIST!"

LCB whimpered. "Where's John Byrne when you need him?"

* * * * * *

Jon Crosspost nursed the beer as he sat at the bar, fuming that the LHH had been killed off by a freakin' ninja. This guy was getting to be as much a
pain as that Fodder twerp. He was not happy. He wanted to kill someone.
But he planned on getting drunk first.

Jeff was relaxing, reading rec.guns and rec.sci.military for some good belly laughs. One of the threads on rec.guns was stupid shooter tricks, and they
had finally gotten around to putting out the formula for RAID based
Zyklon B on sci.military. Jeff considered looking over at alt.evil for
some good suggestions as to where to use the stuff when a crash boomed
behind him, and a strangled cry of rage rose from nowhere.

Jeff turned, seeing a huge, overly muscled creature had just nearly crushed Jon, and had totally destroyed the collection of German Industrial music
that Jon so cherished, as well as several crates of beer.

Spitt rose to his feet. "I liiiiiive!!!! Hahaha! Lost Cause Boy's impotent attack on me has failed! HOOOOOOOOOOOOEEEEEEKKK- SPA-WATTTTT!!!!"

Jeff ducked, seeing the monster loogie smash into his laboratory where he was going to brew the RAID-base Zyklon B. The evil, stinking wad of plegm ignited the chemicals, and a noxious smoke started contaminating alt.fan.bugtown.

"Lost Cause Boy did this?" Jeff asked. He looked up, and saw that Jon had 'ported over to Sci.military and had returned with a GAU-8A Avenger 30mm chaingun. Spitt snarled at Jeff.

"Yes! He sent me here because he didn't have the balls to kill me! The fool!!!" Spitt growled.

"Oh, he killed you," Jon sang. Spitt turned, and a hail of 30mm high explosive anti-tank shells the size of milk cartons started hammering into the inhuman spit machine before he could summon up another demonic loogie. Flesh and gore sprayed all throughout the warehouse where the Crosspost Bros lived.

"You could have waited until we shifted him outside," Jeff snarled.

"Eh, ferget that lump of meat. He gives me a good excuse to pick up some heavy artilery and use it in the house," Jon said. "But that goody goody net.twerp wimped out. I thought he held the spirit of Ron Post in him!"

"Not this time," Jeff said. "So, what do you think we should do?"

Jon smirked, shifting over to rec.arts.anime and coming back at the controls
of the Macross in humanoid configuration, totally crushing several blocks of alt.fan.bugtown. "Hey Jeff! Pop on over to star.trek.written and see what
you can pick up. We're going after LCB."

Jeff returned instantaneously with a Borg ship, only configured like his head. "Great. We assimilate the runt, and then we drag him to alt.fan.bugtown and dump him in an acid bath, making him regenerate and scream in pain for all eternity (even though our stuff will regenerate, we'd rather enjoy this overkill as it has so kindly presented the opportunity to us)."

* * * * * *

LCB dropped to his knees in prayer as the hordes of costumed cretins charged towards him. At last count, there were 75,000 of them, and when they stepped as one, the earth shook. The sheer amounts of gunfire in the air was blinding and defeaning, and he looked up to Rochester, who was standing and sucking his thumb.

"I think this might be the end," LCB said.

"No shit sherlock," Rochester answered.

Suddenly the sun was blotted out by a huge shadow. The horde of metabeings rushing headlong towards them stopped, jaws dropped wide open and gaping. Several screamed and they all opened fire with all kinds of weaponry.

LCB looked up, seeing the gunfire slam haphazardly into the Macross! "Can't
be Manga Man, i thought he was a bad guy. Besides, he hates Robotech," he thought. Then, squinting through the sheet of gunfire, he saw a sharply
angled mustache and a leather jacket. "Jon Crosspost!!!!!"

A Borg ship shaped like Jeff's head hurtled from the other direction as the swarm of characters took to flight, lunging towards the two titanic craft piloted by psychopaths. As the swarm hung in the air, suddenly awesome
blazes of phaser and photon fire lanced through the group. Even though Hackman, the Fanboy Artist kept churning out his demonic creatures as fast
as he could scribble, they were being sliced down and toasted.

Jeff's Borgship took horrendous hits as well, but it regenerated as fast as
he could in alt.fan.bugtown. However, Jon's Superdimensional Fortress has been nearly blasted to useless shreds. Jon scowled and popped over to rec.arts.film to pick up the chaingun used by Jesse Ventura in Predator, as well as an armload of Heckler and Koch MP-5's. Jon opened fire mercilessly, and by the time his weapons were empty, nearly 500,000 dead Hackman created characters littered the fragile crossroads between Dark Horse and Tundra.

Hackman dropped his pencil, shuddering with utter fear as LCB stepped towards him. "Y-y-you wouldn't dare hurt me. You didn't kill Spitt..."

"Why did you draw Spitt, and why did you force me to send him to Bugtown?"
LCB asked loudly.

"You mean he forced you to send that spud to alt.fan.bugtown?" Jon asked.
"He's the one who smashed my rare Spoon collection?"

"No! It's a lie! It's a lie!!!!!" Hackman whined.

"C'mere you," Jon snapped.

"Where to?" Jeff asked.

"First, we go to sci.tech.cuisinart, and then back to alt.fan.bugtown. We're gonna use the mechanized cheese grater method," Jon chuckled.

"Mess-see," Jeff cackled.

The Crosspost Brothers left and Rochester looked after them with a tear in his eye. "That man created me."

"Don't worry. He will never die," LCB said. "But we are going to need someone to clean up this horrendous mess."

"I shall do it. You go on and find the rest of your friends," Rochester said.

"You're welcome to come along."

"In due time," Rochester said.

LCB handed Rochester a stack of graphic novels. "Here Rochester. Read these. It will give you the means to go on."

Rochester looked at them. Alan Moore's Miracleman. He smiled, hugging them
to his chest. "I don't know what to say."

Lost Cause Boy pressed the button on the Plot Device. "Well, just remember, wherever you are..."

He faded out.

Rochester frowned, starting to turn away when LCB faded in once more. "You
are there. And so're some editors."

Rochester whirled, but LCB was gone, only Peter-Out-Son was in his place,
with a chain leash on his neck. Rochester grabbed the chain, smiling.

"C'mere you..."

Those Annoying Crosspost Brothers made bloody by Mark "Klone Krimson" Friedman ERNIE and Peter-Out-Son were created by Scav (I believe)
Yakblood and Hackman were de-created by Douglas P. Wojtowicz.
Rochester and Lost Cause Boy were related by Douglas P. Wojtowicz.
Panta and Kid Anarky are still missing in action, but are not to be mated by Hubert Bartels and Stephane Savoie.

NEXT: IF YOU THOUGHT THAT THIS ISSUE WAS NOTHING BUT NON-STOP CARNAGE...
well, you're right. But next issue, things are going to slow down a bit...
as Panta and Anarky continue with their daring plan, and Lost Cause Boy
is thrown into meaningless, insane combat in the Perilroom against
Ultimate Ninja. Copyright 1994, Hubert Bartels


-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I N T E G R I T Y Q U E S T

Reprinting the Integrity Quest books from 1993

Vol 3.4

In which the wounded Panta and Kid anarky return to the
Legion of Net.Heroes HQ while Lost Cause Boy begins to
go after DeFacto. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------

From: [email protected] (Hubert Bartels)
Subject: Integrity Quest: The beginning of the beginning of the end

NET.PATROL: Integrity Quest - part 20: THE BEGINNING OF THE BEGINNING
OF THE END

[ In the last issue, Panta was badly hurt when she leaped onto Thunder-blot's
face to save Kid Anarky. Kid Anarky's not-so-futile gesture shorted out the
god's massive iron fountain pen and melted the god into a steaming
puddle. Now he is kneeling in a corridor of Defacto's rolling superbase,
holding a dying Panta in his arms.]

The cover repeats the scene of Kid Anarky holding the dying Panta
in his lap. Her head is thrown back, a trickle of blood dripping to the
floor. Every line of her shapely body and firm breasts is sharply outlined
to increase sales to the fanboys. Thick red letters ask 'IS THIS THE END
OF PANTA?' A smaller logo states 'LNH Action Figures! Get Yours Now!'

"NO!" Kid Anarky screams. "NOOOooooooo...."
The words echo off the empty walls of the steel walled corridor.
Only the rumbling of the treads of 'MachineThing' answered his scream.
"NO, PANTA, DON'T LEAVE ME LIKE THIS!!!"
He reached into a pocket on the inside of his trenchcoat and pulled
out the Plot-Device. Kid Anarky knew it was a one-time use device, that
using it meant that they wouldn't be able to return to this place and that effectively, Defacto would have won, and furthermore, Kid Anarky hated the thought of losing to Defacto almost as much as he hated run-on sentences
like this that seemed to go on forever and forever.
He raised the cyan Plot-Device over his head and pressed the shiny magenta button.
A bright flash of lightning stabbed from overhead. Kid Anarky and
Panta disappeared.

(Several pages of advertising interrupt the story at this time. The pages illustrate the various LNH action figures. Collect them all. Mrs.
Allen of Socorro NM collected the LNH heros set and sold them for $1 million. Mr. Barkely of Red River OK ignored the chance to buy the List Lad figure
and died broke and disgraced, his collection worthless. And now, available
for the first time at your local KT hobby store, the LNH Headquarters building to store your LNH action heroes in.)

With a thunderous roar, two figures appeared in the middle of the
LNH Headquarters. Kid Anarky glanced at the windows; it seemed to be late
at night. The hallway was empty; only a single light appeared at the end
of the hall. The LNH computer room.
Kid Anarky burst into the brightly lit LNH computer room, shouting, "Help Panta, Help me!"
Two figures turned away from the X-window'd screen. Late-Nite Lad
and the Incredible Unsleeping Man. The older man spoke first. "Gee, uh, I
don't know about that. We've got this project due tomorrow at eight..."
"And besides that, we're only-"
Kid Anarky pulled the used Plot-Device from his pocket and aimed
it at the two men. "This is the most dread device you'll ever see!" he
bluffed, "it's so evil that I won't even begin to describe the torment
you will undergo. It's so evil that if this wasn't a matter of life or
death, I wouldn't even consider using it. It's so evil that even Dr. Doom
won't use it. It's SO EVIL-"
"Ok, ok, we get the picture." Late-Nite Lad interrupted. "So, like, what do you want us to do anyway?"
The Incredible Man smiled. He had managed to lean back against the computer console and trigger the LNH silent alarm. Soon this intruder and
his pet mutant would be taken care of and then they could return to reading rec.arts.startrek.flame.
"Help Panta. She's dying. Get a doctor, get someone!" Kid Anarky sobbed.

With a rush of footsteps, the computer room filled with LNH heroes. Shouts of 'A fight!', 'Kill them all', and 'We're gonna bring them down bad', filled the air until they realized why they had been roused from a good
night's sleep.
"A boy and his sick mutant? Nice emergency you woke us up for. What's next, kid, cockroaches in the kitchen?" sniped Sarcastic Boy.
"She looks awfully hurt," stated Sister-State-The-Obvious.
"Hah! In my time, heros never got hurt. No, sireee. They'd stand
up and take on the chin. You would never see blood. Just good old punches." said Old Comics Man.
"That last statement was a sentence fragment. Would you be so kind
as to retract it in order to replace it with a properly constructed
sentence?" warned Grammer Lad.
"No, you gonna make me, you young whipper-snapper?" snarled Old
Comics Man?
"Stop this." Kid Anarky stood up. "Just get me a doctor. Anybody."
"What's going on? Is it a party? I missed the last one," commented California Kid.
"A party. What a great idea," added Bandwagon Chick. "I'll go get popcorn.
"And beer," said Catalyst Lass, "it's not a party without beer."
" " said Figment Lad who may or may not really exist.

Kid Anarky sighed. Then someone tapped him on the shoulder. "I think you should go tell Dr. Boring there is/might be/probably will be/ a party/ celebration/ in the computer room. Or maybe in the library. Or perhaps in
the hallway." Fuzzy thought for a second. "Or maybe there won't be a party,
but then you should tell Dr. Boring to come anyway." Fuzzy paused for a
second again. "Then again, maybe you should tell him not to come because
he's a boring old fart, but..."
Kid Anarky sighed again. He slipped Panta onto his shoulder and
started to leave the now going party. Behind him, the first champagne
cork was being popped.
"Gee, that date of yours is a cheap drunk," commented Bad Timing
Boy to Kid Anarky on the way out. "The party's not even started and she's already passed out."

Dr Boring's room was on the next flight up. Kid Anarky huffed
his way up the stairs and down the hall. Outside the clinc's door, he
slid Panta's body to the floor and pounded and yelled. Moments later,
the door opened.
"Yes,whatisthemeaningofwakingmeinthemiddleofthenightandthen..."
began the portly old doctor. He spoke in a muttered blur that immediately
had the effect of putting the listener immediately to sleep. Kid Anarky's
eyes began to cross with the effort of trying to understand the old bore. Finally, he reached down and pushed Panta's body at the old man to get him
to understand what the problem was.
"Ah,sick mutant, homo panthera sapiens, obviously,ingreatpainand perhaps,dying,evenaswespeak,which,ofcourse-" He paused for a breath,"Ihave beenknown,fromtimetotime,to-"
Kid Anarky pushed the doctor and Panta into the clinc, turned on
the lights, pushed the doctor and Panta into the operating room, slammed
the door shut, and sat down.
He guessed that the good doctor, without a audience to bore, would probably go to work. He guessed. But it was Panta's last chance. Only Dr. Boring would work on mutants. Apparently a villain, the doctor was
hiding from the Brotherhood of Evil Net.Villains for terminally boring
one of their leaders to death. It really was Panta's last hope.

The one thing that Kid Anarky would remember of the rest of that
night is the Happy Tooth poster in the clinc waiting room. He stared at
it for hours. From the operating room came the low mutter of the doctor's continous monologue. At least Panta couldn't hear it, he thought to himself. >From below came the occasional sounds of a party in full swing. Apparently
you CAN find a band at 3:00 in the morning.

As the sun rose, Aunt Comic-Relief slipped into the clinc waiting
room. She patted Kid Anarky reassuringly on the back of the hand and moved
on to the operating room.
Moments later, she stumbled out again. "Landsakes, lad, that
man can talk, she cackled. "But your girl is going to make it. Do you
want to see her?" She smiled at him.
Kid Anarky jumped to his feet. "Please."
"Not too long now, she's very tired still." She led him out of the clinic waiting room past the operating room and into a small bedroom. Panta
sat up in bed, her upper body supported by a pile of pillows. As he entered, she gave him a weak smile. Aunt Comic-Relief sat down nearby and pulled
out her knitting.
"Hi," Kid Anarky started.
"What happened?" Panta said in a small voice.
"I killed ThunderBlot by throwing water on him. Are you alright?"
"Doctor Boring says that I had several broken ribs, some internal bleeding, and a collapsed lung. At least that's what I gathered from all
his talking. Do you want to see?" Panta slid the bed sheets down, revealing
her furry breasts and stomach. Wrapped in layer after layer of bandages.
Aunt Comic-Relief looked up from her knitting and gave Panta a
firm stare.
"Opps, I'm not supposed to do that." Panta said, pulling the
bedsheets up again.
"That's OK," Kid Anarky said. "Listen, is there anything I can
do? Do you want anything?"
"Boring says I'm not supposed to leave this bed for a few days -
that's why she's here." she said, pointing at Aunt Comic-Relief with her
head. "I'd like something to read, please."
"Anything?"
Panta's cat eyes narrowed. "I think Marvel comics might be a good idea." She paused. "I think there is a clue to the missing Writer-With -Integrity in the back issues, somewhere....."


There came a knock at the door as Kid Anarky was leaving. As he exited, he quickly closed the door so Panta's rest would not be disturbed
by these... dwarfs? (That's 'Vertically Challenged' for all you politically correct people out there).
"Good day." said the child. He couldn't have been more than 12
years ols, yet he was decked out in a suit of silver full plate armor, a two-handed sword twice his size strapped to his back along with a
backpack also many times his size. The simple fact he was standing showed
a complete defiance of gravity. A few other such figures were also present.
"Uhhh...yeah?" muttered Kid Anarky, quite thrown off by all this.
"We're here representing rec.games.frp.dnd. We'd just like to let
you know that after you actions last issue, we've decided to award you
with..."
"Oh no..." muttered Kid Anarky, "Anything but this..."
"The Munchkin of the Month award!! (For killing a god, don'tcha know)".
"Munchkins!! Aaaargh!", Ranted KA. "I HATE MUNCHKINS!!" He
screamed at the frightened adolescents as they scurried down the corridor, grabbing ash-trays as they did...

[ Have you gotten in on the latest collecting frenzy? LNH action figures!
Buy yours now! And don't forget the LNH villains when you go. Buy them too.
So, with Panta out of action, what is Kid Anarky going to do. Is the
party in the LNH Computer room still going and should you bring a bottle?
Only the next issue will tell. Only the next issue will tell.... ]

Lost Cause Boy (tm) Douglas P. Wojtowicz, Kid Anarky (tm) Stephane Savoie
Panta (fur and spots) Hubert Bartels. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------


==========

Next Week: More Integrity Quest!

==========

Arthur "Same Classic Channel. But Same Time? Probably not." Spitzer

--- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05
* Origin: fsxNet Usenet Gateway (21:1/5)