From Newsgroup: rec.arts.comics.creative

Original post: https://lists.eyrie.org/mailman3/hyperkitty/list/racc@lists.eyrie.org/message/OUYR6NLSOWY7RW5TCFVEE2QWTUOZSX2V/
On Sun, Feb 23, 2025 at 4:04rC>PM Arthur Spitzer <arspitzer2@gmail.com> wrote: <snip>

(Also a little correction -- 'Kit' is Christopher Tatro
although he probably went by kristoff too...)

Ahhhh, yes

Is it time for a snowball 'BLOOD BRAWL'?! And is there
room -- for JELLO?!!!!! (trick question -- there is
always room for Jello! All Praise The Dark Gods of JELLO!)

Lady Johanna Constantine is walking down the street her mind on important matters like where can she get the money to buy some chocolate.

Suddenly she spins around...
"Damn, I thought someone was following me."

She continues her stroll, her mind now on where she can get money to buy cigarettes.

She stops again...
"I'm sure I saw something out of the corner of my eye..."

She turns the corner, her mind on where she can buy chocolate covered cigarettes.

X3 That's pretty good

She stops again, but not because she thinks she saw something...she just walked into it. In front of her is a man wearing an ugly brown coat, blue jeans, and shoes that are a few stiches form total diasaster. One arm is behind his back and his expression is one of malignant joy.

D: I see

"No....You wouldn't dare..." she stammers as she looks for an escape.
"HEHEHE YUP, I'm gonna do to you what I've wanted to do for for a long time."
he grinned and wiped foam of his lip as he loomed closer and closer....

...

*whap* a snowball whizzes past her ear and hits a wall. The man`s crazed joy is replaced by a look of great tragedy as he falls to his knees.
"So close, so close how could I miss?" he moaned.

*whap* a snowball hits him in the eye. LJC laughs and and runs away.

XD Wow. Okay that's pretty good, and cute.

He opens the closet door cattle prod ready in one hand. Inside is a large humanoid shaped creature covered in brown fur and wearing chains. It looks
at Ken with Malevolent red eyes. Ken sizes up the 10 inch claws and fangs while
he throws it a slab of meat. As the creature wolfs down it's meal, Ken forms a
plan.
"Mongo, I have a job for you...when you complete it, I will reward you handsomely."
"MMMMMMMMM KIIIIIIITY?" Mongo asked.
"No, you can't have my cat. Now here's a pack of cigarettes and a box of chocolates...NO Don't eat them! This is the bait...now here's my plan."

Huh. X>

LJC looked at the fangs, claws, and snowball....
"Ohyouaresocute!" she declared while fluttering her eyes in a way that caused several male onlookers to faint.

"Areyouastudenthere?Whatyearareyou?Thisismysecondyear,wellactuallymyfirstyearat
theUofI,myfirstyearwasspentinMadridIwenttoschooltheresoIguessthatmakesmeasophom
ore....

...this is a very different characterization, I must say. X>

"YAAAAAAAAARRRRG!" Mongo yelled.
"UhhumIseeyouputitsoeloquentlyDoyoulikeanime?I'mintheanimeclub,nextsemesterth
eclubofficerswon'tbeheresotheyaskedmetobeanofficer,me?Canyoubelieveit?Meincharg
e?Ihopeforthegoodoftheclubthatitdoesn'thappen.AmIspeakingtoofast?*giggle*
"eeep!" mongo whined

*Fascinating*. X> I gotta assume these two were close friends.

Toobadmydormit orydoesn'tallowpets.IcouldtelltheRAthatyouareaveryhairyfreshmanthatImetinabar*t
eehee*

oh my god. X>

"Aha! Mongo has returned! Vengence is mine!" he said as he opened the door.

*whap* a snowball hits him in the face.
"AAAAHAAAHAAAHAAA." Mongo chortled.

heeheeheehee

AAAAAAAAH...warm weather! sittin' in the sun and NO MORE SNOW! NO MORE SNOWBALLS!
*sizzle* *sizzle*
"Oh damn, I keep forgetting the Irish people should stay out of the sun"

X3

"HMMMM FEEEERRRR YYYYEEEEEWWWWW" Mongo said as her dropped a grisley prize at her feet.
"Oh how...sweet...a headless squirrel...I'll treasure it, you go take it and
show it to your friends ok?" she asked sweetly.
Mongo ambles off to play with the quad dogs.

Amazing.

" Behold The Mark IV experimental winter warbot aka "Snowbunny". It has Three rapid fire snowball guns. Three racks of wire, radar and heat seeking snowballs. A mega snowball gun that fires snowballs as big as a car. A snowthrower, a refridgerator that makes instant snow, and an ice cube maker for
drinks... Well? What do ya think?" he paused.
"HUH? I can't hear you? Your speakers have made me deaf." LJC answers.

X3 X3 X3

"Tadah! One fine hand made snowball, ain't it COOL?" Ken said as he displayed his work.
"Oh you are soooo witty *giggle* can I look at that snowball?" she asked.
"Sure! Here ya go...Do you like it? Nice aerodynamic shape eh?" he said.
"Yes, very nice." she commented as she nails Ken right between the eyes. "Duoh'...fooled by feminine whiles again!"

Welp. X>

"No, just stupid." Came a chorous of voices from all around.
Ken looks up and sees that he surrounded by an angry mob of trenchcoat clad beings holding snowballs.
"Enough of the stupid snowball stories. Let him have it guys!" she ordered.
And Ken is buried under an avalanch of snow....

X3 X3 X3 Amazing.

The electronic buzzer zapped the fading tendrils of a really
interesting dream into oblivion. I had learned to hate the
machine, but it was the only thing on this planet that would awaken
me, and was a large reason why I graduated last year. 9 AM classes
are a bitch, especially if you miss them.

Oof, relatable

First to the refrigerator. It was a Kenmore, model XRT-14,
centuries old, with _plenty_ of shelfroom. If cars were built like
refrigerators, the highways would be clogged with Model T's that
smelled faintly of mouldy lettuce, no matter how much baking powder
you added.

That's a heck of a metaphor. X>

My mother commented
that maybe Concorde Grape is especially sensitive to chaos waves,
and is constantly being shaken up before it can set. My mother is
an idiot. If Concorde Grape would never set, then why would they
market the damn thing? The fault had to lie within me.

Oh *sweetie*. Wow, this is some on-point characterization.

Perhaps a note of introduction is in order. I am Weevil
Dendrite, recent graduate of the University of Michigan, and dark
forseer of mystic events. Some charlatans employ cards, others tea
leaves, still others crystal balls. My medium is perhaps the best,
for it is modern, efficient, scientifically accurate, and tasty,
too.

Fascinating. X>

Much to the chagrin of the guests, the swirls in the cake
seemed to form letters. Some endeavored to try to arrange the
letters in a discernable pattern. Most were shocked by the
relevation that AEEEEEGHHIIIIKLLMMMMNNPRRSSSTWY spelled out "MRS.
MEYERS IS SLEEPING WITH THE MILKMAN," which was very awkward,
since Mrs. Meyers was there with Mr. Meyers, as well as the
milkman. After the fight was broken up, most of the partygoers
left, thinking it it bad taste, which Miss Manners supported.
"Dessert is supposed to be delicious, not malicious."
My mother, however, never intended it to be slanderous.
Instead, she realized that she was blessed with preternatural
powers, to tell the future in baked goods.

Amazing. X>

A strongly devout
woman, she saw it was the work of the devil, and never baked again
(which is why I always looked like a schmo at the bake sales, with
twinkies in _my box._ Let my mom consort with Satan..._I_ wanted
tollhouse cookies!)

XD XD XD Welp

Jello was...fantastic, almost an
obsession with me. Its colors, its textures, everything _screamed_
sensuality and _power!_ Oh, the power!
Then I got out more often.

heeeheeheehee

whenever I approached a perfectly
molded piece of Jello, it shivered in my presence, as if scared I
might eat it (and with good reason, too).

I then recalled it shivered more when I thought of certain things.
Things I was wondering about. Things in the future. And the more
it shook, the more it came to pass.

oooooooh

It took me a B.A. in theoretical physics, an M.A. in mathematics,
and a PhD in Parapsychology (the first two garnered from Sally
Struther's mail order school when I was still a freshman in high
school)

XD

All these have one problem: they only gain a snapshot of
the future, a static representation taken at the moment of the
reading. I, with my prodigious gelatin molds, capture the surges
of probability as they occur in the gentle wave form.

Huhhhhh, interesting perspective. X> I like it.

Jellomancy is a harsh mistress, requiring persverance, talent, and
a good eye for quivers. Some flavors work better than others.
Strawberry banana is a good overall flavor, while blackberry
should be universally avoided, since it only seems to predict the
coming of the Apocalypse, the rising of Elder Cthulhu from Ry'leh,
and the next time the Cubs win a world series. I keep one in the
back, just in case.

I see, I see :o

Mere moments before his knuckles rapped on the door, I was
there, whipping it open, as his hand connected with empty air. The
first few times I did this stunt, it really unnerved him, until he
noticed the closed circuit tv on the door. When one trafficks with
the Trenchcoats, one must always be prepared.

Yes indeed.

He slid in, and his whiskers scraped against the closing door
as he forced it shut, making a noise not unlike two pieces of
sandpaper rubbed together vigorously.

Wow. X>

The guest was taller than I
by a few inches, and substantially thinner. He smelled as if he
hadn't washed in days, which was fairly accurate, and his hair was
a sullen blonde mop which looked like it had given up combs for
Lent.

XD Good shit

"They're after me. Again. I lost another one."
"Another what?"
"Another near, dear, close personal soulmate. The third this
week."

X3 Yep, this is trenchcoat stuff.

"Oh dear, how did he go?"
"Lima beans. Never trust them, Dendrite. Vegetable of
darkness."

XD

That was my name. Weevil Dendrite. Hell of one, I know, but
with a goofy last name like Dendrite, the first just _can't_ be
normal.

I mean, fair

He lit up. It was time to pull
out the big guns.
"Okay, Mr. _Constantine._"
"BIERCE, DAMMIT! ARE YOU _STUPID?_ You get that wrong every
felching WEEK! Ambrose Bierce!"

...on the one hand, that's a real historical person; on the other, I'm
pretty sure this is just a straight use of the Stanley and His Monster
version. X> But then again, that character was created when Phil
Foglio couldn't use Willoughby Kipling, who was created when Grant
Morrison couldn't use John Constantine... so maybe it's better to just
use him. X3

"Thanks, Weeve. I owe ya."
From the amount he "owed me," I was beginning to side with the
bill collectors' story.

Heeheehee

"Weevil, we've had this discussion a _thousand_ times. It's
_WAY_ too dangerous. All the people I get near die in some
tragically horrid fashion. I _don't_ want that to happen to you."
"Why not?"
"Because I don't want you to die, that's why! Is that so
terribly difficult to understand? If I make you my pal, then you
get cacked by commando squirrels from Saturn, or some other arse-
backward threat, which no one can really explain. That's why I'm
so mean to you, Weeve. If I didn't, you'd be dead on the spot.
I'm doing you a favor."

X3 Just really establishing this bit of parody.

"Thanks a lot. But you forget, I'm immortal."
Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you guys that in expostion. More on
it later, when it becomes relevant.

XD XD XD omg. That's such a good way to drop it.

"Heh. Good one, Weeve. No, I mean I make a lousy
Trenchcoater."
"The one you have looks fine. Stained and everything. What's
that one?"
He looked at the red blotched, then rubbed a bit off with his
nail and tasted. "Goat blood. No, virgin blood. Definitely a
virgin."
"See! You have what it takes!"
"You understand so little, kid. I can do all that magic
claptrap. What I don't have is a weirdness magnet, and until you
have one of those puppies, you're nobody.

Fascinating.

He opened the door in a blinding rush, and then scurried for
the bus stop. One of the prerequisites of being a Trenchcoater
apparently was lack of driving skills.

It's true, but only because most trenchcoaters are in fact mystery protagonists, who also can't drive.
I watched for several

minutes as Eldritch bolts whissed over his head, hurled by a
strange dark native,

Efy4

It wasn never going
to be one of those Sundays again, because I wouldn't let it. I had
the tools, the talent, the time, the tokens for the train, and the
tender to make it in the world of the Occult. I even had a
Trenchcoat, for God's sake, not to mention, fairly well honed
alliterative skills that would pass for spellcasting in tense
moments. I was ready for all the world would hurl me in its
primal fury. All I had to do now was find a weirdness magnet.
If I only knew what it was...

Hell yeah, that's the spirit!
Drew "magnetize that weirdness!" Nilium
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