Charlie Bentley, Paper-Pusher First Class in the Office of Mystical Destinies, sighed at the huge mountain of papers that loomed on his desk. Apparently, there had been a critical snafu in the office of Prophetic Dreams and several people with only minor Mystical Destinies received weird dreams that woke them at odd hours of the night and messed with their minds. This kind of snafu was kind of to be expected, what with the Fake Apocalypse and all; but it was not without it's obscene amount of paperwork and files to be taken care of. And when there was paper to be pushed, there was Charlie. He cursed his luck, muttered something about red tape and poor business management, and went for his tenth cup of coffee that day. For Charlie, today would not be a good day. Not at all. * * * * * * Do-Gooders The anti-Amway, pro-retail teen superhero team without even a hint of an X anywhere in their title. A FanArt HQ/Spoof Chase Improfanfic http://www.improfanfic.com Episode 50: Things That Go Squish at Various Hours of the Day written by: Clint Milton Original Concept by Stephan Gagne * * * * * * Warning: The management is not responsible for lost or stolen personal items. You've been warned. * * * * * * Recap: Well, since this is Episode 50, a total flashback should be in order. However, a flashback episode would be seen, and rightly so, as a cheap cop out and a pitiful attempt to avoid writing any plot or character development. However, since I don't want to be accused of coping out, I won't write a recap either. You can catch a really good one in my previous episode, 44. Granted, it won't be completely accurate since six episodes have come since then (not counting mine, of course), but it's still a good recap. If you didn't read it, go read it now. Then read the other episodes in between. I know, it was my idea to bring back the recaps and now this. Well, sorry, but I don't have enough time. And now, on with our story. * * * * * * Nemesis Serendipity Villyn paced back and forth in his secret, underground lab (read as: "basement"). His brow furrowed. He had to figure out some way to take the Do-Gooders out of his hair permanently, while he still had hair. But so far, every one of his evil plans had failed. Even his minions, strong though they were, couldn't defeat them. They were just too strong, too well organized, too . . . good. He sighed. It was hopeless, he just couldn't do it. Some villian he turned out to be. He reached into his wallet and grabbed his villain's license. His license. Wheels began to turn in his head, forming a plan. His mouth curved into a truly evil smile and his right pinkie found its way to the corner of said smile. A new light was in his eyes as he reached for the phone and dialed the number. "Hello, SPOC?" he began, "I'd like to report some unlicensed superheros in Tokyo. Their names? The Do-Gooders. Yes, I know them rather well. My name? Nemesis Villyn. License 6472981, Villainous Overlord First Class. Thank you." He hung up the phone and smiled. If his plans failed to capture or destroy the Do-Gooders, he'd let the Superhuman Powers Oversight Committee handle it. After all, it was their job to take care of things like this. He chuckled at first, then threw his head back and let fly with Supervillain Evil Laugh number 38b. * * * * * * In the vast, expansive headquarters of the Superhuman Powers Oversight Committee an operator slammed the receiver down cursing. If this Nemesis person could be trusted, this could be a disaster not unlike that Captain Narcalepsy escapade of 1972. Or worse, it could be as bad as the emergence of The Rabid Wombat, who actually bit all his "villains." This could be bad, very bad. With a trembling hand, the operator reached for the button that would summon the one agent capable of stopping such a disaster from occurring. "May God have mercy on me for what I'm about to unleash," he breathed as his finger pressed the button. "I hope the world is ready for this." * * * * * * Warning lights flashed, arrows showed the way to the nearest exits, and a prerecorded voice blared out "This is not a drill! Repeat: This is not a drill! All personnel report to emergency stations for further briefing!" People ran everywhere in seeming panic. Kyle Brinstar smiled as he surveyed what was before him. The chaos, the anticipation of battle, this was what he lived for. The enemy could be everywhere, and he loved the idea. The phone rang. Sighing, he put the game on pause and lowered the controller. The phone rang again and, grumbling, Kyle walked over to the endtable and picked up the receiver. "Yes?" he barked, "Make it quick, I'm in the middle of something." He cast a quick look at the television screen. "You're needed again, Brinstar," the voice on the other end replied. "A new power has arisen in Tokyo and threatens the safety and security of peace-loving people everywhere. If this threat isn't quelled, it could be worse than the Commander Strobelight debacle of . . ." "1986," Kyle said grimly. He remembered the event all too well, and would have shuddered if it had been in him to do so. One doesn't easily forget a defining moment in your life; well, not without therapy and/or a massive amount of pills, neither of which Kyle could afford at the moment. "Indeed," the voice replied, "Only you can prevent that from happening. You will be supplied with whatever you need, including a ticket to Tokyo." "First class?" "We'll talk." "All right, so long as I don't have to fly as freight again." "Look, that was during a lean time in the department due to massive government cutbacks. You don't need to worry about it happening again." "Let's hope." "Anyway, your mission details are on their way by our usual courier. They should be arriving momentarily. Those are your orders. Now prepare yourself, and turn off that blasted video game." There was a click, and the line went dead. Kyle hung up the receiver and looked at the television screen again. "No time for games, I've got a job to do," he stated resolutely. At that very moment, a pidgeon flapped near his window. He opened it and inspected the bird carefully, removing the small canister attached to its leg. He patted the bird on its head and let it go out the window. "You did a good job there, Percy," Kyle said as the bird flew off, "Go enjoy your vacation." He took the canister into the kitchen and filled a bowl with water. Hastily, he dropped the canister into the bowl; which promptly exploded into a collection of pictures and a short list of names and directions on how to proceed. He examined each picture carefully and as he put it down, it burst into flames. He then read, memorized, and devoured the list and instructions. "Do-Gooders," he stated in a growl as his eyes flashed red. * * * * * * Kireiko ran. He ran far and fast, and didn't stop until he was completely out of Tokyo. Behind him were numerous monster, devil, and youma hunters not to mention a magical girl or two. Fortunately, due to recently signed treaties, all monsters outside of Tokyo City Limits are safe and cannot be hunted. He breathed a huge sigh of relief and mooned the crowd behind (no pun intended) him. He then expertly dodged the magical projectile lobbed at him by one of the younger magical girls. "MaN," Kireiko sighed as he checked his many tentacles, "SoMe PeOpLe JuSt HaVe No SeNsE oF hUmOr. FoRtUnAtElY, tHeY aLsO hAvE nO sEnSe Of AiM." He chuckled evilly (which was the only way a half-Cthulhu/oni, half-human being could chuckle) and walked further into the woods. "I hOpE tHe OtHeRs ArE aLl RiGhT. I cAn'T dO mUcH fOr ThEm OuT hErE." Cthulhu, from his vantage point inside Kireiko's head, laughed heartily. "JUST GIVE UP, MORTAL," he said through Kireiko's mouth, "YOU CAN'T WIN, YOU KNOW." "ThAt WoN't StOp Me FrOm FiGhTiNg," Kireiko replied. "PITIFUL. YOUR EVENTUALL SUBMISSION WILL BE MADE ONLY SWEETER BY THE STRUGGLE YOU ARE PUTTING UP NOW. OH, I'M GOING TO ENJOY THIS." "I'lL bEt YoU wIlL, yOu OvErGrOwN bAlL oF sLiMe." "TUT TUT, SAVE YOUR STRENGTH. YOU'LL NEED IT SOON ENOUGH." Kireiko launched into a stream of curses that lasted a full two minutes. Cthulhu just laughed. "SUCH LANGUAGE. IT'S SUPRISING THAT YOU CAN CALL YOURSELF A HERO." Kireiko hit a boulder nearby and continued to walk off into the distance. * * * * * * Tejina and the rest of the Do-Gooders (minus Kireiko, of course) were worried. Nobody, not even Hanaki, had heard anything from Kireiko, not since he'd run away from home further taken over by Cthulhu. Hanaki seemed to be taking the news worse than the others, but this was to be expected since they were a couple. To make matters worse, they had a gig to get to in a few minutes. But without a guitarist, they weren't going to have much of a show. Tejina sighed. "I wonder how Kireiko's doing?" Tejina pondered aloud. "I wonder where he is," Hanaki muttered. "That too," Tejina said sympathetically. Hanaki sniffed and dabbed at her eyes. Becky played a somber riff on her bass. Matsuro just sat next to Keiko and, unseen to everyone else, gave her a gentle squeeze around her waist. Keiko's eyes widened a bit for a moment, then she smiled and snuggled up next to him. Aki, who noticed the two of them and how they were seated, smiled a bit, but not enough to be noticed by anyone. Tejina went back to idly messing with her keyboard and worrying about Kireiko. Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. When it opened, Eiji poked his head through. "Sis," he started as Hanaki and Tejina turned to face him, "there's a guy up here looking for your band. He says he's from Spock." "Leonard Nimoy, the American sci-fi actor?" Becky asked hopefully. "Could it be that our music has crossed the ocean?" "Not likely," Matsuro said, "especially since we haven't released a CD yet. So I wonder how he found out about us." "Only one way to find out," Tejina said as she pushed past the others and climbed the stairs to the living room. * * * * * * Kyle Brinstar rubbed the kinks out of her neck as he stood in the living room of the Nakao family. I can't believe they sent me as freight again, he thought bitterly. Next time, I'm going to demand first class or no Kyle. I'm SPOC's best agent, and I won't be treated like this any more. He'd been talking to Tejina's parents for some time now, and they seemed nice enough. It's a shame their daughter was a criminal. They were taking it pretty harsh, he thought, especially considering they didn't know what the Do-Gooders were doing was illegal according to international laws. Then, he saw the group climb the stairs. Tejina didn't like the look of this guy. Not at all. He reminded her of Becky's father, all dressed in black and wearing sunglasses. She also didn't like the look he was giving the Do-Gooders. Then, she saw her parents. She gulped. Somehow, she didn't think this guy was from an American actor. "Uh, hey folks," Tejina said hesitantly, "What's up?" Her father shook his head at her. "I can't believe it," her mother said, "why didn't you tell us you were a criminal?" "A criminal? Mom, we FIGHT crime, remember?" "But without a license," her father added with barely controlled anger, "we didn't raise our daughter to act that way." "A what?" the Do-Gooders exclaimed in unison. "A license," Kyle said evenly. The group now focused on him. Kyle removed his sunglasses. "Allow me to introduce myself. Kyle Brinstar, agent for SPOC." "The character?" Becky asked. Kyle grit his teeth. Must . . . not . . . kill . . . suspect, he repeated mentally. Calming down, he spoke. "Actually, that's a common misconception. I'm from SPOC, the Superhuman Powers Oversight Committee. We monitor all superheroes and supervillains to make sure that they do indeed represent the values of the community they are in; or, in the case of the villains, that they do indeed have a threatening stance toward said community or even the world. This is an extremely important job, and we make sure all heroes and villains have licenses so we can keep track of them. Otherwise, there'd be anarchy." "Anarchy?" Hanaki snorted. "You're talking like we're going to bring about the end of the world or something. We're the good guys, in case you haven't noticed." Kyle locked eyes with her. "Let's explore that, shall we? At the last census I've seen, there are 4.6 billion people in this world. You remember that Tears For Fears song, `Everybody Wants To Rule The World?' They were only half right. At any given moment half the people on the face of the earth, 2.3 billion people, are thinking about either ruling or destroying the world. Now of those 2.3 billion people, only half of them, 1.75 billion people, actually have the power or resources to rule/destroy the world. Here's where things get sticky. Of these people, 1 billion people usually chalk it up as idle fantasy. But that leaves 750 million people who are ready, willing, and oh-so-able to take over or destroy the world. I'll let that sink in for a moment." Hanaki blinked, then blinked again. "But," she started hesitantly, "we're not like that." "Yeah, you're the `good guys.' Well, those same figures that apply to the villains apply to you heroes. That means that, at any given moment, there are 1.5 billion people on this earth who could either save or destroy the world at a whim! Now imagine for a moment if this 1.5 billion people were allowed to run free without any monitoring whatsoever. What kind of world would we have? For starters, every city would be a war zone. Major metropolitan areas like New York, LA, and Tokyo would be nothing but craters. You couldn't even walk out of your house without potentially bumping into people who could either save you in your darkest danger, or destroy you with a thought. And you'd never know, because they look just like anyone else out of costume." "I never looked at it that way," Tejina muttered under her breath. Keiko just clung to Matsuro. Aki and Ayame mentally ran over his figures and hoped they were wrong. The figures lined up, though, and they dropped their heads in defeat. "Of course not, you're a `hero.' You think you're doing `the right thing.' I've seen it before. You need to realize, though, that there are proper channels for things like this. SPOC was formed after the great Discoman debacle in the late 70's. Ever wonder why disco music went out of style? It's because of a little incident in a local nightclub where a hero whose powers relied on disco music set fire to said club while fighting a villain. The resulting fire killed 45 people. But he was a `hero,' doing `the right thing.' Imagine for a moment how he felt, knowing that when he goes to meet his maker that the deaths of 45 innocent people will be his to answer for. But that was nothing compared to what he had to face here on earth. The outrage ripped through both the superhero and supervillain community. Even the villains knew not to kill innocents; at least, not until after the hero is dead. Both sides agreed that a neutral party was needed to keep such an incident from happening again. And the rest, as they say, is history. Now, that being said, please turn over any and all magical transformation broaches, pins, pens, wands, etc." He held out his hand. The Do-Gooders took a collective step back. "You didn't say anything about giving up our powers," Tejina said warily. "Why do you think I'm here?" Kyle sighed in exasperation. "Look, if you want them back, apply for a licensing test and become full-fledged heroes. Until then, cough `em up." Matsuro drew his sword. "Let's just see you take them," he said, striking a defensive pose and brushing the hair out of his eyes. Kyle just looked at the sword. "That," he said, "is a Class II Destiny-Altering Magical Weapon. I'll have to take that, as well." Matsuro gripped his sword tighter. "Don't even think about it," he said evenly. Hanaki put her hand on his arm. "No, don't fight him," she said, turning to Kyle. "I don't have anything to turn over to you, as my transformation is a dance with a fish, but I can tell you that I won't transform without a license again. Also, I'd like to take the test and get my license. I know I can make a difference, and it would be a shame for me not to try." Kyle nodded grimly. "Spoken like a true hero. Now, what about the rest of you?" One by one they turned over their superhero transformation gadgets. Matsuro, after much prodding, gave up his sword. Kyle actually smiled. "You kids have done the right thing here. Now, I am a man of my word, and am prepared to test you all for licenses. I have the written portion with me in my briefcase. When you're ready, we'll begin." They nodded, and he opened the briefcase and passed out the tests. * * * * * * Mermaid, Scotch, and Koohii glanced over the newspaper one last time. "All right," Scotch said as he folded up the paper in half, "I think we've finally decided on a movie." "Indeed," Koohii added. "And it's not here in the paper," Mermaid finished. "Dragonheart!" they exclaimed in unison. * * * * * * Tejina put her pencil down and sighed. "Done at last!" she shouted triumphantly. "What kept you?" Matsuro asked. "The rest of us have been done for some time now." Tejina flashed him a dirty look and gave Kyle her test. He looked over them all and graded them carefully. His pen flew over each test individually, pausing momentarily to mark an incorrect answer. Finally, after a few minutes per paper, he looked up. "You all passed," he said simply. There was a huge celebration. Tejina looked at him. "So," she asked, "when do I get my license?" "Hold on there. There's more. That was just the written test. Now, you get the road test. I'll assign each of you a small, weak, super power. Except for you, Matsuro, since you have no real powers. You'll be issued a slightly less magical weapon than what you're used to." "So what's this `road test'?" Hanaki asked. "It's simple, really. We find a crime and you use the powers assigned to you to stop it. The object here is to do as little damage to the surrounding area as possible. Remember, you're not heroes . . . yet. Only licensed superheroes can get away with massive property damage." "Ah, I see," Aki added. "So, let's get started." * * * * * * Kireiko was losing. It was evident to all around him; well, all the little woodland creatures of the forest anyway. He had just scared the crap out of a nearby squirrel (which is pretty easy, it's a squirrel after all) and was working on frightening a gopher with his numerous slime-dripping tentacles. Though a bit put-off by the tentacles and the slime and all, Kireiko had to admit the power that was coming with it was a bit of a rush. The drawback was he could feel his mind filling with thoughts of his friends and the proper ways to flay the flesh from their bones. When these thoughts turned to Hanaki, he began to beat his head, trying to get the thought out of his mind. "I wOn'T gIvE iN tO yOu!" he screamed out loud. "YoU wOn'T tAkE mY bOdY!" "I ALREADY HAVE IT," Cthulhu chuckled through Kireiko's mouth, "JUST RELAX, IT'LL ALL BE OVER SOON." "NeVeR! I'lL nEvEr SuBmIt To YoU!" "YOU SAY THAT NOW, BUT WHAT ABOUT YOUR . . . GIRLFRIEND?" "YoU kEeP HaNaKi OuT oF tHiS, yOu MoNsTeR!" "AWWW . . . DID I STRIKE A NERVE?" "YoU bAlL oF sLiMe! If YoU tOuCh HeR, I sWeAr I'lL kIlL yOu MySeLf." "I'VE OUTLIVED ALL WHO'VE SAID THAT IN THE PAST, I'LL OUTLIVE YOU." "WeLl, ThErE's A fIrSt TiMe FoR eVeRyThInG!" "YOU ACTUALLY THINK YOU HAVE A CHANCE AGAINST ME? HARDLY. THE ONLY REASON YOU ARE STILL AROUND IS BECAUSE I WISH IT TO BE SO. YOU AMUSE ME, MORTAL, AND WHEN YOU CEASE TO AMUSE ME IS WHEN YOU WILL BE . . . REMOVED." Kireiko then proceed to suggest Cthulhu do something physically impossible. Cthulhu only laughed as Kireiko walked further into the wilderness. * * * * * * Tejina, Hanaki, and the rest stared at the bank. Tejina looked back at the slip of paper Kyle had given them. She then looked back up at the bank. "This looks like the place," she said with a hint of doubt. "He's testing us with a bank robbery?" Hanaki asked. "Not only that, but what's with these powers?" Becky wondered. "I mean, come on. I can summon hummingbirds. Yipee." "You should talk, Becky," Tejina shot back, "I have the amazing ability to turn myself into a plush toy." "What'd you get, Hanaki?" Matsuro asked, brandishing his Butter Knife of Singularity. "I don't want to talk about it," Hanaki said sullenly. Her power, the power to accurately tell the zip code of any area in the world, was nothing compared to what the others had. She felt self-conscious and shifted her weight on her heels. "Well, we don't have enough time to sulk about our powers," Tejina hissed, "look." She pointed to a group of people in front of the bank. "Show time," Matsuro said as he stood up and brandished his butter knife. Tejina nodded. "Becky, conjure up a swarm of hummingbirds and send them at those guys. I'll transform and Matsuro, you toss me at the closest bank robber. Then, the real fun will begin." Matsuro nodded, and the battle began. Since the bank robbers were normal humans, they never stood a chance against the Do- Gooders, even if they were vastly underpowered. It was a massacre. Even Hanaki's power served a purpose; her rattling off of various zip codes managed to distract a robber while Matsuro clocked him with his butter knife (she was really happy about that). Tejina dusted her outfit off and looked at the crooks laying at their feet. "Well," she said, panting, "that was easy." The others quickly agreed with her. "Who knew becoming a plush toy could be so helpful?" Becky was stroking the head of one of the hummingbirds she'd called. "Yeah," she said happily, "and these hummingbirds are kind of cute." Matsuro said nothing, but pocketed the Butter Knife of Singularity. "In any case," Tejina said resolutely, "we passed the test. Let's go home and get our licenses." The others agreed and walked off toward her house. * * * * * * Kyle watched them walk off from his vantage point on a nearby roof. He smiled to himself. These kids are alright, he thought. Sure, they're a little rough around the edges, but they're learning. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the licenses he'd made for all of them while they were fighting. They'd earned them, that's for sure. He smiled a bit, turned around and started to sing quietly. "Well you can tell by the way I use my walk I'm a woman's man, no time to talk. . ." As he continued to sing, a portal opened in front of him. He stepped through it and appeared at Tejina's house. Pausing only for a moment, he placed the licenses and a little slip of paper next to their transformation gadgets on a table and left through the front door. * * * * * * "Mom," Tejina called as she stepped into the house, "Dad, we're back. Where's Mr. Brinstar?" Looking around, the Do-Gooders found the licenses and the paper. Opening it, Tejina found it was a note. "Do-Gooders: "I must say you impressed me tonight. You showed you have the one thing a superhero must have: heart. You passed all three tests with flying colors, and I'm proud of you. Here are your licenses, you earned them. Never forget what you learned today. "Kyle. "PS: The powers you were given to test you are your's. What you do with them, if anything, is up to you. And Tejina, your license does reflect that you, too, carry a Sword of Duality." Tejina crumpled up the note and celebrated with the rest of her friends. Hanaki, secretly wishing Kireiko was with them, tried not to let it show for fear of ruining the other's good moods. * * * * * * Meanwhile, in the secret underground headquarters of the Cult of Cthulhu (read as: sewer), Japan Chapter, a different sort of celebrating was going on. The cultists were celebrating the imment return of their beloved master and Elder God, Cthulhu. Brother Maynard was extremely happy about this, and His Eminence was bubbling over with joy; well, he was bubbling anyway. "this worked out better than i could have forseen," His Eminence said. "who would have known that the Great Cthulhu would accept the body we chose for him?" "WeLl," Brother Maynard replied, "We DiDn'T rEaLlY gIvE hIm MuCh Of A cHoIcE, nOw DiD wE?" "details details. . . besides, there are other cults of the Great Cthluhu besides ours, and all were looking for a suitible host. but he chose our's. i think that's something special." "I sEe YoUr PoInT." They then went back to celebrating, and much punch was consumed by all. * * * * * * Out in the wilderness, Kireiko wasn't in much of a celebrating mood. In fact, he wasn't in much of a mood at all; but this was to be expected as he finally lost the battle and succombed to Cthulhu. "PiTtY, rEaLlY," Cthluhu said in his new body, "yOu ShOwEd So MuCh PrOmIsE, yEt GaVe Up So SoOn. I hAd ExPeCtEd MoRe FrOm YoU, hErO." Cthluhu then laughed evilly and went back to Tokyo looking for his cult. * * * * * * Dragon Chylde enjoyed their movie so much they watched it again. * * * * * * WILL THE CRAZED CULTISTS AND CTHULHU EVER JOIN UP TOGETHER? WHAT WILL BECOME OF THE DO- GOODERS NOW THAT THEY HAVE THEIR LICENSES? WHAT ABOUT BARON VON STANGER? WHAT'S HE UP TO ALL THIS TIME? AND THE DWARVES? WHAT, DRAGON CHYLDE GETS TO WATCH A MOVIE, BUT THE DWARVES DON'T GET TO DO ANYTHING? IS THIS ANOTHER EXAMPLE OF ANTI-DWARF DISCRIMINATION? WILL THEY SUE? Some of these questions will be answered later by me. The rest will just have to wait for Mark Elliot and those following him to take care of. Author's Note: Nah, Kate, no pressure. (twitch, twitch.) All things said and done, this was one heck of a week. I won't bore you with the details. Let's just say that when you're putting the finishing touches on a story at one am the morning your story's due, it's not a good time to get bad family news. And the week your story's due is no time to get sick. I will say this, though, I thought since this was episode 50, I should do something special. And it was high time for the Do-Gooders to get power upgrades. However, since this is a comedy, they can't get more powerful powers, only funny ones. That's why I did what I did. I hate being sick. I can't think of anybody who really likes it, but I really hate it. Being stuck in bed, not being able to do anything . . . it's the pits. Anyhow . . . Thanks to my mother, for helping me come up with the lisencing idea (it was a fluke, really, and I probably shouldn't have taken it so far; but it's a little late now), the other writers in Do-Gooders for doing such a good job with a great story (sure it got confusing at times, but that was partially my fault), Ian Heafer for graciously offering to proofread it (alas, due to this evil week there was no time), Kate Malloy for leaving me an opening with Villyn (that was great, it let me use my idea instead of having to come up with another on the fly), and last but not least everyone who reads Do-Gooders for picking a great story to read (I know, it sounds sappy). The management wishes to convey its regrets that there wasn't a run-on sentence in this episode of Do-Gooders, but it feels that since there was no recap there really wasn't a place to put one, and though it did badger the writer repeatedly to do more with Ayame so that there could be a run-on sentence the writer could only reply that he didn't know what to do with the character and thus didn't write her in anywhere, which the management took as a cop out and politely asked the writer to try harder, but the writer obviously doesn't care about what the management thinks as Ayame is nowhere to be found in this story, a situation which will be rectified should the writer ever think about writing for Do-Gooders again, which is a distinct possibility considering the writer really likes these characters. (143, not too shabby) Once again, the management apologises for the lack of a run-on sentence in this episode and hopes this one in the Author's Note will make ammends. Finally, I'd like to make "gratitous shameless plugs" for the other Impros I'm going to be in: Heart Heart High and FAQing Hostile on the main site, and High Stakes over on Beware the Radish. Come read them and sign up, you'll love it. Clint Milton, signing off. * * * * * * Charlie Bently leaned back in his chair and smiled. He'd managed to take care of that mountain of paperwork quite nicely, he thought. Everything seemed in order now, with things where they were supposed to be. Upon reflection, Charlie found that today wasn't as bad as he'd thought it would be. Oh, well, he thought, any port in a storm. Suddenly, a mountain of paperwork found its way onto Charlie's desk. He sighed, stood up, and walked out. It can wait, he thought, I'll be back tomorrow. It can wait until then.