Crisis On Infinite Message Boards 6 6

[Illiterati-migration]

Who will be the first to die?!?! Who will be the first to be retconned into oblivion?? Who will dress up like Supergirl and be cradled gently in the arms of a large man in tights??

[NewtSamson]

I WILL SACRAFICE MYSELF TO SAVE THE MULTIVERSE FROM THE ANTIMONITOR!

(runs really fast...trips......falls down....vibrates though the earth to china)

[Illiterati-migration]

I WILL SACRAFICE MYSELF TO SAVE THE MULTIVERSE FROM THE ANTIMONITOR!

(runs really fast...trips......falls down....vibrates though the earth to china)

 

One down...

 

We must also determine what we will be like in the new Post-Crisis OIMB universe and who will bear witness to the birth of the NEW Message Board.

 

Greggy, you will finally be free to wear ascots and flounce around just fruity-as-you-please. You will be free to wear short shorts (though anyone with thighs like yours should seriously reconsider anything that does not have a hem reaching their achille's tendon). And, maybe, just maybe, if you're a good boy, we'll allow you to be recreated as a non-virgin!

[Joanna]

Because the most retconned person on the boards is meth/hammer/blackshotzy/comic-keys, I think he needs a complete reworking.

 

Known now as "The Trimmer" because his new origin is as an aerobics instructor in Fresno, with superpowers that allow him to magically trim the fat off of the middle-aged, alcoholic, ex-wives of Fresno's mid-level executives. Once, he dreamed of being in the ballet, but his hopes were dashed by chronic hamstring problems. Now, an embittered, balding, Richard Simmons wannabe, he spends his nights drinking Mogen David wine while yelling catty remarks at the women on reality shows.

[lighthouse]

Because the most retconned person on the boards is meth/hammer/blackshotzy/comic-keys, I think he needs a complete reworking.

 

Known now as "The Trimmer" because his new origin is as an aerobics instructor in Fresno, with superpowers that allow him to magically trim the fat off of the middle-aged, alcoholic, ex-wives of Fresno's mid-level executives. Once, he dreamed of being in the ballet, but his hopes were dashed by chronic hamstring problems. Now, an embittered, balding, Richard Simmons wannabe, he spends his nights drinking Mogen David wine while yelling catty remarks at the women on reality shows.

 

ROTFLSHIPMP....

[Ares]

Who will be the first to be retconned into oblivion?? Who will dress up like Supergirl and be cradled gently in the arms of a large man in tights??

 

I did that last week... :)

[Illiterati-migration]

Because the most retconned person on the boards is meth/hammer/blackshotzy/comic-keys, I think he needs a complete reworking.

 

Known now as "The Trimmer" because his new origin is as an aerobics instructor in Fresno, with superpowers that allow him to magically trim the fat off of the middle-aged, alcoholic, ex-wives of Fresno's mid-level executives. Once, he dreamed of being in the ballet, but his hopes were dashed by chronic hamstring problems. Now, an embittered, balding, Richard Simmons wannabe, he spends his nights drinking Mogen David wine while yelling catty remarks at the women on reality shows.

 

ROFLMAO!!! Dagnabbit, Joanna! How can anyone hope to follow that?? Oh well. That's the end of our 12-post Maxi-series.

 

Personally, I can't wait for the Infinity Message Board, Secret Message Boards I AND II, Zero Message Boards, and Fall of the Message Board!

[Joanna]

Issue 2 of Crisis on Infinite Message Boards: The Fate of MajorKhaos!

 

Fearing the penalty box, Khaos retires his superhero name and begins wandering from con to con, looking for direction. Depressed and craving the sugar he knows he cannot have, he inadvertently ends up in a costume contest at the Mid-Ohio con. To his shock and delight, he wins! As the judges put it, "With your finely-etched features, saucy legs and hairy back, you made the perfect Saturn Girl!"

 

With a renewed sense of purpose, Khaos begins his reign as KostumeKween, hopping from con to con with 7 suitcases full of spandex, aluminum foil and a twill weave. When other wannabes drop out at the mere sight of his satin pumps, he realizes that he must conquer other worlds. Soon he's seen as "Evil Willow" at the Jacksonville Bufferama, as "Season Five Xena, the Pregnant Warrior" at the Fort Lee Xena con and as a very special 7 of 9 based on some slash Deep Space 9 fanfic at the Seattle "Where No Man Has Gone Before" con.

 

Drunk with power, and sensing his own tragic fall, he gives up his quest for spandex glory to sit in front of a computer posting as Pugapoo, the naughty but lovable forum troll who spends his days copying all of Bug's posts backwards. In this new mirror world, the former MajorKhaos finds love and contentment with a cat named Whisker n' Soda, and their pet fleas, the Dancing Wallendas.

 

-- Joanna

[Joanna]

Issue 3: The Transformation of greggy!

 

Tired of the constant innuendo and snide remarks on the forum, greggy retires to his viewing room, to gaze at his enormous collection of sweet, sweet DCs. Outside, a storm is brewing, but greggy has no fear within his pulp-filled temple. Suddenly, a bolt of lightning strikes, melding him with a longbox of bronze age romance comics. Startled, but feeling unharmed, he rises only to discover that he has been transformed into Mylite The Conqueror -- able to make all men feel effeminate in comparison, and all women to swoon at the very sight of his forbidden beauty.

 

Donning a costume made of fused mylars, Mylite begins his quest for world conquest at a Burger King. The moment he walks through the door, men's wrists go limp, women swoon, and the manager asks him to frickin put some clothes on that aren't see-through. Mylite smites the manager, after asking for his order to go.

 

A whirlwind of destrution follows as no man is willing to stand up to him (though many offer to kneel) and no woman can resist him (though many offer to grade him, if he'll just remove the mylar).

 

The earth his for the taking, Mylite realizes that's it's all too easy. There are no challenges left. He longs for the days when his clothes weren't made of transparent archival plastic, and other humans could gaze at him without lust.

 

A broken, bitter hero, he loses a month of his life in an internet cafe drinking latés and telling anyone who'll listen how he was once had the highest post count on the CGC forums. With no one left to care about true glories like that, he uses his contest-winner coupon from the colletor's society to have himself slabbed. In the airless chamber, as his life ebbs, he congratulates himself on being a 9.6, though rues the day he stubbed his big toe, as the bruise knocked him down from a 9.8.

[Joanna]

Issue 4: For Whom the Bug Tolls!

 

While riding his tricycle home from work, Bugaboo gets caught in the radiation from an experimental Black Flag flea and tick bomb. He is blown onto his back, legs and arms flailing helplessly in the air as his life passes before his eyes. He spies a pay phone and, by a systematic clenching and unclenching of his posterior cheek muscles, manages to scootch his way over, hoping his Dad will come pick him up. However, when he tries to grab a quarter, he realizes that his pocket change has formed a thin, metal skin across his entire body.

 

Calling himself the The Coinee Crusader, he decides to destroy any who would speak against the multitudes of coin collectors. He focuses his rage on comic book fans -- those whom once he loved -- thinking that those imbecilic upstarts don't know a good thing (coins) when they see'em. His anti-comic rampages become legendary as he stomps from house to house, peeing on longboxes and tossing a few state quarters in his wake to "pay for the loss of old, useless paper".

 

One of his first victims is KostumeKween (pre-crisis ID: MajorKhaos). The Coinee Crusader not only destroys KK's comic collection, but also his Captain Janeway tunic, his Rogue leotard and his Lois Lane man-bait orange dress. KostumeKween is reduced to a weeping, blonde-wigged tangle of fishnet stockings, vowing that he is too traumatized to do his Black Canary appearane at the Tucson Truck'n'Tack shop that evening. Coinee tosses him a New Hampshire quarter, saying, "Your career is as over as the mountain this coin was based on, manchild. Get some focus in your life and find yourself a full-step Jefferson!"

 

Leaving a wake of .5 destruction in his path, The Coinee Crusader battles it out with The Trimmer (pre-crisis ID: hammer) when he inevitably finds himself in the heart of Fresno. Trimmer battles valiantly, shouting, "I'll show you what toning is!" but it's to no avail. The Coinee Crusader attacks by trying to bounce an Indian Head nickel off Trimmer's abs. When the nickel gets caught in a love handle, Trimmer is banned for life from his aerobics class.

 

Is there anyone who can stop The Coinee Crusader? Stay tuned for more of Crisis On Infinite Message Boards...

[Joanna]

Issue 5: Of Villains and Heroes

 

News of Coinee's comic destruction had made it to the ears of Joe Collector. "I knew it was all going to come crashing down. I told them! I told them! But did anyone listen to me? With my enormous intellect and wit, they should've hung upon my every lavish word, but no. I was without respect from those FOOLS! Those PUNY COMIC COLLECTORS! They'll PAY for this... with their useless slabbed moderns!"

 

Knowing that the universe was being destroyed without him and he had to hurry to catch up, he cut two eyeholes in his extra-large Snoopy lunchbox, jammed it onto his enormous cranium and safety-pinned a towel around his neck, proclaiming himself to be Dr. Gloom!

 

Meanwhile, three lads in a Volkswagon Jetta are having an argument. Supapimp claims that despite Justin's solo career, N'Sync is dead -- gone the way of Menudo and the Backstreet Boys. Bonds agrees, but with hesitation. In his mind, Justin is still a comer and has a few years left. Ariach continues to snore in the back seat, dreaming in rhyming couplets. Or coupling with dreamy rhymes. Or maybe he had just passed out.

 

Supa draws up to Batchelor of Comix's house and honks twice. Boc runs from the front door, does a cartwheel, throwing his hands back like a Romanian gymnast waiting for applause. "You'll never believe what happened!" he shouts. "I've found her! The woman who'll take the 'bachelor' out of my title once and for all!"

 

"Who is she?' the 3 lads ask in unison.

 

"My sweet, sweet Urethra!"

 

"We can wait. Go do your business, man," mumbles Pimpy.

 

"No, no! That's her name! Urethra Jackson. I saw her today on cops. She's a 437 pound ex-supermodel from Biloxi whose kids just got taken away because her trailer is a sty. Isn't that great? No kids! She's like heaven on earth. Or like a big fluffy cloud. A storm cloud. With a tornado for a heart and hands like pancakes. I've got to meet her."

 

"Well, hop in, man, let's book!"

 

Boc jumps in the back, waking Araich, while Supa turns the Jetta south, toward Biloxi. Suddenly, an alien craft hovers above them, showering them with radiation and Lemon Pledge. Before they have time to react, it's gone. Shocked, the quartet looks around and realizes that they are all wearing very tight yellow spandex. "Wha happened?" Bonds asks. "I dunno," Bonds answers. "Shut up, you guys," says Bonds.

 

That's when Bonds realizes he has just split into a dozen people. "I shall call myself Alias he says in unison with all his others Bonds's.

 

Supa notices he's become a giant, wooly mammoth. "Shi'ite, man -- this is frogging bizarre! I'm a Supafreak!"

 

"What does a mammoth have to do with anything?" mutters one of the Bonds.

 

Araich shrugs, then feels a strange pain in his belly. He opens his shirt only to see The Cartoon Network playing on a screen where once was his stomach. "And I've turned into a human satellite dish! Maybe none of these make sense." After thinking a moment or two, he says, "Call me Dishman! Or, or... Cableguy! No, wait -- Abs of Surreal! Or--"

 

"Shut up, Rerun" said Boc.

 

"No, that's the guy on What's Happenin!" Silence. "That's gonna stick, isn't it?"

 

"It's in bold, dork. Of course it is."

 

"Sigh."

 

Boc suddenly realizes that he hasn't found out what his power is. Immediately, he strips, to make sure nothing has gone missing. Everything is there in its original size. "What can I do?" He tries stretching, turning invisible, flying, and farting. Only the last is achievable. "No powers? What a rip!" Suddenly, he becomes an enormous smiley that rips itself in two. "Co" "ol," he says. "I'm Emoticon!.

 

"We need a team name," says Rerun.

 

"The Fantastic Four!" proclaims Emoticon.

 

"Taken," says Supafreak.

 

"I know! We'll be N'Superable!" says Alias.

 

"Huh?"

 

"Based on 'insuperable'? Impossible to overcome, get rid of, or deal with successfully? Like to villains, we'd be insuperable -- you get it?"

 

Eventually, after finding a dictionary and a thesaurus, they got it. And thus, The N'Superables were born!

 

 

 

[BachelorOfComix]

Joanna, we are not worthy!

[BigMan]

Issue 3: The Transformation of greggy!

In the airless chamber, as his life ebbs, he congratulates himself on being a 9.6, though rues the day he stubbed his big toe, as the bruise knocked him down from a 9.8.

 

I think that fits Greggy aka Mylite the Conquerer very well. Though once the bruising is gone you know he is gonna resubmit himself for grading.

 

 

[Bonds25]

Joanna, we are not worthy!

 

What he said! That made me laugh - thanks Joanna!

[Joanna]

Issue 6: Ebony Skies

 

Three men stand in a darkened alley, their figures shrouded by heavy overcoats, their shoulders hunched against the chill of winter's last, wheezing breaths.

 

"4 forums have been destroyed already, and I fear ours is next."

 

"The Philatelist board is gone and it's as if it was never there. When I mention it, no one seems to even remember it existed."

 

"Same with the Beany Baby Boards. Gone. Pfft."

 

"And the film collectables. Posters, photos, memorabilia -- and not a single person has any memory of them. They can't just disappear! I have SO many posters! What the hell am I going to do with a bunch of oversized pictures? Hang them on my wall?"

 

"We remember. And that means we have to do something. It's time we came out of retirement."

 

A hush seems to fall on the empty streets. Background traffic sounds fade into the night and even the chill breeze stops rustling the papers and societal detritus lining the gutters. Slowly, one of the men removes his overcoat, revealing the glitter of silver spandex topped with maroon boxers and matching epaulets. His eyes glow momentarily, a beacon in the ebony mist. "It's time for this House to light the way again."

 

"Hiding in plain sight. They never suspected us," says a chuckling round man with a giant hole through his middle. "I'll do some reconnaissance." With a nod to his friends, he launches himself into the night, his overcoat falling away to reveal the disappearing form of a Flying Donut.

 

"Well I wasn't 'hiding in plain sight'. I mean, what kind of superhero name is 'PovertyRow'? The ability to look homeless?"

 

Lighthouse laughs softly. "Oh, come on, Spelling Bee, no one was falling for that 'I make soooo many typos!" act."

 

"Says who they weren't!"

 

"The only one I worried about was Joanna, since she's such a grammar queen. I thought she was onto you."

 

"She as idiotic as the rest. No worries there." The Bee shakes off his coat revealing an oversized yellow and black costume with an extra pair of arms, large, fuzzy antenna shaped like dice, and a giant stinger glued to his butt. "Where's Donut? He should be back by now."

 

"Getting antsy?"

 

"Ha. Ha. Another insect joke. "

 

"You know how Golden Age humor is. A little corny, a little old-fashioned, but they did it first, by gum. They did it first."

 

"'Nuff said, House."

 

At that moment, Donut returns, his face ashen in the glaring light of House's eyes.

 

"Dear God, we're doomed..." he sputters, then dunks himself in a coffee-colored puddle and passes out.

 

Meanwhile...

 

Far above the multiple forums, a sinister presence watches a bank of monitors. He sees Bee and House trying to revive Donut. He sees N'Superable showering together. He sees Trimmer pour his fourth glass of Mogen David. He sees Mylite being probed by Borack, prior to slabbing. But his attention is on Coinee and Dr. Gloom. "Yes..." he whispers. "Soon."

 

Back to the GA forum...

 

Donut flies toward the nothingness with unerring aim, House looped inside his giant hole, Bee buzzing at his side. "Do you see it?" he asks.

 

"What? I don't see anything!" shouts Bee over the sound of his wings.

 

House focuses his eyes, illuminating the surrounding area as if it were daytime, yet ahead there is only blackness. "It's as if light can't penetrate."

 

"Nothing can. It's the Penalty Box. Somehow, it's all in there. I know it is. I can feel it."

 

"What is?"

 

"The missing worlds! Threads begin and disappear. They have to go somewhere! Perhaps the beany babies and the stamps and the movie memorabilia and all the other collectables are there as well."

 

"It's a theory," said Bee. "And so far, it's the only one we've got."

 

High above...

 

His wrests his attention from Dr. Gloom and Coinee as he sees the three heroes approaching. "Fools. You don't know what you're doing. No one can defeat...

 

The Archi-Moderator!"

 

 

Next issue: Someone dies.

 

 

 

[lighthouse]

 

[chrisco37]

Dammit House! You stretched the board!

 

Chris

[lighthouse]

Not for me I didn't...

 

Shows up as five nice neat rows in my browser... your computer must suck...

[chrisco37]

your computer must suck

 

More than greggy in a Turkish Bath house!

 

Chris

[lighthouse]

Yeah, he's still looking for someone to do a Monroe Transfer...

 

But quit trashing the thread... I am dying to see what happens next!