From Newsgroup: rec.arts.comics.creative

On Sun, May 11, 2025 at 5:00rC>PM Arthur Spitzer <arspitzer2@gmail.com> wrote:

And it's the next part of The Wrath of The Administrator.

HOKAY. I'm picking this up again. X3

Is it time to use some colons?! Is it time for a
whole bunch of Trenchcoaters sit around in a bar
and get really drunk?!! And will this all help
with saving the world?!!!

MAYBE! :D

LJC: Thanks. [she turns around. John Constantine is behind her]

Oh yeah, I forgot we jumped fully into crossover fanfic territory here. X>

LJC: That`s *your* job. But no, this one`s different. Everyone getting hit at
the same time. Coordinated attacks.

Well, relatively speaking.

JC: So you`re getting the NTB together? *Not* a good move.
LJC: Not all of them. Just some. The ones I can trust.
JC: Oh, thanks.

heeheehee

Look, love, the NTB doesn`t work like that. Getting that lot to
work together is like getting the trains to run on time. Can`t be
bloody done.

History did bear this out. o3o;

LJC: Look, if you don`t like it-
PROF. ESOTERIC: This a private argument? Or can anyone butt in?

Okay, making some new pages on the wiki starting now...

PROF. ESOTERIC: Sounds fun. Listen, there`s a guy at the bar I found falling
out of bathrooms.

XD Is that a euphemism!?

LJC: The Professor tells us you want to join the NTB.
JELLOMANCER: Well, yes.
LJC: Okay, raise your right hand and say `I am a suicidal maniac` three times.
JELLOMANCER: I am a suicidal maniac... I am... look, is this strictly
necessary?
LJC: Well done. You`ve passed your first test.

heeheehee

Elric sighed. That flight from Oakland to Chicago had really put a dent into his savings. Ah, well. Who needs money when you've got a trenchcoat.

Most people, I find o3o

Big mistake. Local airports are bad enough, but unfamiliar
airports make L-space and Destiny's garden look like... look like... well, someplace where getting lost is impossible.

X3

"Sloth. 'Lo, Elric. Thought you quit the NTB."
"I did. But every time I try to get out, they keep pulling me back IN!"
"Easy. I'm in no mood for melodrama. I've had a bad day."

Ahhhhh, it's a running gag n.n

"Oh come on. It couldn't have been that bad. I mean, it's not like you
came by bus or anything, is it? . . . Why are you looking at me like that?"

X3

"Oh. What were loan officers doing in a bus terminal?"
"I'd rather not talk about it."
"Okay, Grim. Hey, if you took a bus, what are you doing at the airport?"
"I'd rather not talk about it."
"How's about your luggage? No, wait. Let me guess. You'd rather not talk about it, right?"

hehehehe

Before they could continue their witty repartee, the two frien-
uh, colleagues

X3

"Why do we always run TOWARDS screams of terror? Shouldn't we be running AWAY?"
"See this? It's a trenchcoat," said GrimSloth as he dragged
Elric towards the source of the disturbance. "It comes with the territory."

Being a bastard is different from being a coward.

Elric bent down, then stood with a grim expression on his face.
"He's dead, Grim."
"Oooooh," said the body.
"Nice call, Elric."
"Damnit, Grim, I'm a 'coater, not a doctor!"

X3 This is some good banter!

Elric opened the letter.
"What's it say?"
"There's the name of a bar. Then it says, `Show this to GrimSlut.'"
"GrimSloth. Lemmee see that." Grimsloth peeked over Elric's
shoulder, then wiped the water from his face. "Forgot to duck. Hey, you read it
first. Why didn't you get the snowball?"

heeheehee

Tell you what. Let's
split up, and when one of us finds the bar, he'll wait for the other one to show up."
"But how will we find each other?" Elric asked the man-shaped
space of empty air.

heeheeheehee!

Elric walked out of the
airport, determined to wander aimlessly until he found the bar. And if he
was forced to enter other bars just to make sure it wasn't the right bar under an assumed name, then that was a sacrifice he was willing to make.

Wonderful. X>

"Oh, Kit?" LJC looked unshaken by the man's condition.
"Just ...thought you...might want...to know...The Netromancer..." Slowly,
Kit's inert body fell to the ground.
The room fell silent. No one was sure what to say . Finally, the bartender cleared his throat. "Is that guy okay? Do you want me to call an ambulance?"
"No, that's okay," said LJC." He's just dead. Happens all the time. He'll get over it soon."

Wow. XD

Dr 13 was in the back of a small second hand bookshop in Nottingham
wandering round the aisles in search of a suitable nexus point for entry to L-space. All of a sudden the books seemed to change; the titles were no longer written in English.
"I've done it" thought 13. "All I now need to do is find the cross over to O-space, the space created by storage of information on hard drives and in filing cabinets rather than on bookshelves. Anywhere that stores infomation is privy to distortions in reality.

Ooooooh yeah, that was one of my first thoughts back when I read Small Gods. :D

13 was now in a large maze, small niches led into other libraries in other worlds. He just hoped he could find where he was going, for he sure as hell would have trouble getting back.

Dun dun dunnnnn...

BARMAN: Wrestling? I would`ve thought all you trenchcoat types`d be above all
that dreck.
DEFT: It`s not dreck! It`s the only truth!

Yeah, don't shame low art >:/

Ah, Chicago, that toddlin' town, hog-butcher to the world. Chicago is real--hard, earthy, human. The perfect site for a meeting between
people who live their lives on the edge of fantasy. Lady J has clearly
gone mad.

[...]

He walked deeper into the alley. Behind him, the mists rose and blocked the light from the lamppost, where the crow stood, twisting its
head in an inquisitive manner. It cawed once, only to break the silence,
and flew into the mist.
Chicago would have to wait.

...and it waited indefinitely, because as far as I can tell, this is
the only actual piece of NTB story Greg Morrow ever wrote, and the
only non-roster appearance of Mr. Elmo other than one time Saxon used
him years later. X>

What happened there? I knew. I knew exactly what happened
there. But I didn't want to think about it. It brought back too
many bad memories of . . . similar situations. That was the real
reason I didn't want Elric tagging along, I suppose; I didn't want
him asking about Harrisburg.

Oooooh, nice deep characterization.

Janice, though. I had to find Janice. Yeah, I know she's
just an it, just a machine, but she'd been one of the few constants
in my life the past few years. I guess I'd grown a bit fond of her;
she had a good head on her shoulders. Even if she didn't have any
shoulders.

Hell yes hell fuckin' yes.

"Yes, yes. We know. Your name is printed out quite legibly
on these loan papers. Quite legibly."

Ah man, what a threat.

They walked towards me slowly, deliberately. No hurry. I
had nowhere to run to. One of the loan officers held out some suspicious-looking forms, and a black pen.
Oh Christ, I thought, not again.

Dun dun dunnnnn...

The Cafe Perilous isn`t one of those
prententious coffee-swilling sort of French artist-magnets, it`s a solid, down-to-earth, English food-selling shop, the kind you`ll find in any town near all the lower-class terraced housing. The sort of place where the working
classes go to eat as many carcinogens as they can afford.

I hate anti-pretentiousness pretentiousness. XP

It wasn`t
long before I was in the sort of pit the Cafe Perilous could be called to manifest in; I nailed the menu to the door of an abandoned house with a
ten year old "for sale" sign, and sat down to wait.

That said, I love the idea of a strictly blue-collar mystical phenomenon.

Before ten minutes were over, the door had changed into a glass fronted sort of thing with a tacky "OPEN" sign hanging in it. I went in, dragging the ancient deity of pissheads with me.

heeheehee

I noticed the Coventry street change into a dozen different cities
one by one. This sort of thing does your head in after a while.

Seems pretty normal to me. n.n

What is it about the English that makes them want to
torture themselves so much? Been the same for centuries, every time I come here, the silly bastards are inventing new ways to guilt themselves to death. I suppose it`s something to do with psychology, but it seems more like total bloody-minded self-pity to me..."

Personally, I blame the Victorians.

John stared back at Ramaj Singh "Deft? Isn't he the WWF fan? I HATE WWF ..."
John glared silently, reached into his trenchcoat and proferred a newspaper and "The Anarchists Cookbook". Do you want them?"

Wait, who's this now-- oop, next part

NET.THING: Well? What`s happening? It`s chaos in the net- everything`s going
down at once!
LJC: Look, have a drink, don`t worry about it...
NET.THING: I have to worry! It`s my job- no, my life- to protect the net! LJC: Weevil!
JELLOMANCER: Yeah?
LJC: Explain the situation to this, er, thing, would you?
JELLOMANCER: Sure. There`s this guy...

So then-- oop, next part!

It was a man, well, kind of a man anyway. He was wearing glasses and had pointed ears.
"Hello" said 13.
"Hello. You're one of those trenchcoaters, aren't you?" said the man.
"Yes. Who are you?"
"Lucien. I work for the dreamlord in the library of dreams."

Not again. X3

Several hours (or was it days?) later, 13 was glad he had packed a few kebabs with him. He was just finishing his meal with a banana when a large orange sack like thing flew above him and snatched the banana from his hand.
He turned round to face a pair of intelligent looking eyes.
"Ook?" said the creature.

Look, as long as you don't name which particular library-dwelling
orangutan this is, it'll be fine.

"Unseen University Library Fine. You the Netromancer have not returned your copy of "Complete office time, space and parallel universe management", and must surrender this immediately."

heeheehee

The bartender thought about it, sighed and poured another Gargleblaster.
Two stools away, a thin, blond-haired man glared daggers at John.
The bartender leaned towards the blond, "Woody! What's up?"
Woody continued to glare at John, sighed and said "The guy shows up, makes some bets and wins $2000 ... scum"
The bartender and Woody looked, as one, at empty space. "At least he paid for
the first 10 Gargleblasters in advance."

Well I-- nope never mind...

SHADE: ...Y`know, I`m not really sure what I`m doing here...
E. K. MOUSE: Perhaps you are unaware of our mission. The very fabric of the
universe is threatened!
RAMAJ: What, again?
SHADE: That`s what I mean... Why do you need me? I`ve got enough trouble trying
to keep hold of an account as it is...
E. K. MOUSE: You coward. You would run whilst others save the universe for you!

I like this guy!

Just before the bar door closed, a large owl swooped in. He glided over the heads of the gathered Trenchcoaters and settled down on the bar next to LJC. Then, to the surprise of most, he hooted in the direction of the bartender and
said, "Give me one of what she's having." The bartender glared at the owl and said, "We don't serve birds in here," and began to try to grab the owl, but Constantine interrupted him and said, "Yo-Yo's with me." The bartender still looked suspicious, but drew another Woodpecker cider and put it down in front of the bird.

"Thank yooou, my Lady," hooted Yo-Yo, clutching the handle of the mug in
one claw and sipping the cider in a rather impressive demonstration of strigiform dexterity.

:D Owl! Talking owl! Named Yo-Yo! <3 <3 <3 ...aw dang, this is also a
character from Vertigo but I don't care I love him

Constantine took a long draw on her cigarette and puffed smoke in the owl's face. He let out a long whooping cough. "I don't know why I bother, after that comment you passed on from the Star Trek group," Constantine said,
with a slight smile. "You're lucky I've got a soft spot for birds of prey." The owl merely ruffled his feathers and took another sip of his cider,

d'awwwwww

Still facing forward at the bar, Yo-Yo rotated his head back towards the
rest of the assembled shadowy figures. "I'm sorry tooo arrive so late," he said in his hooting voice, "but the Netromancer's spells first took effect
in daytime, in the peak hours, when any sensible being should be asleep anyway. I only recently realized what was happening. I wouldn't have known what was going on at all if her Ladyship here had not kept me informed." Constantine gave the owl a look that was something between a grimace and a sneer. The bird ignored it, and continued, "So what are we going tooo
dooo?"

I LOVE HIM.

The smelly man moaned "Hold Me!" and stretched out his arms. John gave him
a hug and asked "Say! You wanna come to a party? You are wearing a trenchcoat
aren't you?" The smelly man jerked back, eyes John thoughtfully and proclaimed
"You're on Mac and yeah ... this IS a trenchcoat."

...okay! X>

DOUBT: I am Doubt of the Endless... I think...
BARMAN: Figures. You with those Trenchcoat weirdoes?
DOUBT: Perhaps. Yes, perhaps I am... I`m sorry, I`m having a bad day... I...
fade... occasionally...

Hmmmmm, I see, I see

Suddenly the doors opened, and John Constantine appeared, coughing more horribly than usual.

"What's wrong?" asked one of the 'coaters, who obviously hadn't yet learned not to get involved.
"Lung Cancer."

Within fifteen seconds, he was surrounded by Trenchcoats of all hues.

"Can I borrow $10.00 ?"
"I have first dibs on his Wierdness Magnet!"
"So, uh, your girlfriend's going to be lonely soon?"

Oh my god. XD That's pretty good admittedly

YO-YO: Whoo!
REDLAW: Really! Well, *that`s* not very nice. That`s downright unfriendly, no
doubt about it.
YO-YO: Whoo.
REDLAW: Still, it`s not all too bad, eh? Still got to soldier on, despite all
the troubles of this little old world. Where did the milk go, I wonder?

Redlaw. Okay. X3

After about a mile, I saw the delivery truck, pulled over to the side. As I approached, I could feel the Irishness decreasing gradually.

Irish senses, tingling!

This demon's picked the wrong liquid, the wrong 'coater and the wrong day for a stunt like this. The noise of rolling had stopped, so I put on my best stagger, stood up (pulling the barrel over as I rose) and greeted the
little fucker.

"Hi! Sorry about the barrel, I just tripped over it."
"Prepare to die, fool! No-one may look upon the Liquidator and live!"

Oh Christ, another of these power freaks.

Yesssssss. >:D

Having no wish to see his last meal, I drove off quickly, wondering why all this Guinness didn't make me much happier.

Oooooh, deep

After a while 13 and the Librarian noticed a change in the scenery.

DANGIT YOU NAMED HIM.

Suddenly the librarian paused outside a door. On it was written
"Rupert Lionel Horatio Flomsonby-Bloom Junior - Netromancer."
"A Flomsonby-Bloom. I might have bloody known," said 13.
He opened the door.

...okay I guess this is going into the wiki X3

KID ANARKY: I need a drink... please, someone get me a drink...
[Bacchus does so. Kid Anarky sits on a stool to try and work out where he is] KID ANARKY; Oh god. Not the NTB. Anything but the NTB...

I have bad news, this is going to be one of your Things

KID ANARKY: Christ, you stink of whiskey...
WITHNAIL: Nonsense! I`m totally and utterly sober! [drinks and collapses]
KID ANARKY [headbutts the bar three times in despair]: Why? Why? Why?

Heeheehee

DEFT: If it`s any help, Mauler and Crusher have defeated the Death Squad,
and now have a good chance of recovering at least one item of the
wrestling regalia that they lost to the Astral Twins last month. [everyone looks at him blankly]
DEFT: Or, to put it another way, Kid Anarky is actually a Trenchcoater, but
often tries to hide the fact because of his connections to the Legion
of Net.Heroes.

Makes sense to me. n.n

13 stepped into the Universal Office. A pathetic sallow balding man was hunched over a terminal.
"The office has nearly finished feeding on him. Soon he will be nothing but
a husk." thought 13.

Whew. Yeah that makes sense.

DVANDOM: No! Your search is at an end!
ELRIC: Who`s he?
GRIMSLOTH: What, the one with the purple trenchcoat, haunted expression, air
of mystery, and incredibly worn-down heels?
ELRIC: Yeah, him.
GRIMSLOTH: No idea.

heeheehee

DVANDOM: I have no name that I will tell you, but I am known as a friend and
ally to many of your associates... for the time being, however, I must
remain... a stranger!
ELRIC: Oh, him.

X3 Yep

DARKROSE: Hang on... if you didn`t send these snowballs...
LJC: I didn`t! I`m trying to forget all that snowball business!
DARKROSE: ...then who did?

I'm *very* confused about the snowballs. X>

KIT: What about the Guinness?
SOME IRISH GUY: The Netromancer tried to get at it. I saved it, though. It`s
outside.
ELRIC: Er... I didn`t see it...
[Some Irish Guy rushes out, and then back in]
SOME IRISH GUY: AAAAAAARRRRRRGGGGHHHHH!!!! It`s gone!
SHADE: Oh. Wow. Disaster.
RAMAJ: No- if he can stop the Guinness delivery- what else can he do? [another deathly silence]

DUN DUN DUNNNNN....

"Don't be a cretin." said 13. "You are a tool of the office. It has been feeding on you for years! Have you looked at yourself lately? You are not looking well."
13 produced a mirror from his pocket and reflected the Netromancers face in its depths.
"That can't be me, honest." said the Netromancer.

That's what they all say!!

"Anyway, I suppose you are wondering why everyone is in Chicago."
"No I'm not, I recieved a note and virtual snowball from LJC inviting me to meet up there."
"Ha, that was my masterstroke, the message was really from me pretending
to be her. I closed off her account for this purpose."

Ah, okay. @-@ I guess.

"Well, I gave Burak Racey a briefcase which was a pocket bureauracy, I meant to trap the odd trenchcoater in its depths. The fool lost it, but it was taken
by one of your number, GrimSloth. Sometimes things work out for the best after
all. I now intend to detonate it, trapping the NTB in its depths."

Ohhhhh, I see!

"No you bloody well don't" said 13, grabbing the Netromancer round the neck. Unfortunately he was unable to stop him pressing a large red button on the desk.

Welp. X>

In the meantime the librarian had got the copy of his book and a large reel of red tape from a shelf. He then proceded to wrap this round the Netromancer.
"Ha, caught up in your own red tape." said 13. "Now please reverse the pocket bureauracy."
Something flashed up a computer screen.
"Greetings 13, this is the office speaking. The bureauracy cannot be reversed.
I have won. The NTB is no more."

Yep, here we go. X>

"We will see about that." said 13. "I am removing your host, that will limit your powers matey. I am going to find Xeroxes to destroy you."
"Never" said the office. "He has gone into retirement. You will never find him."
"I will. Xeroxes created you and he will destroy you.

And here we go. X>;;; That idea sure did just come out

Just be thankful the
rest of the NTB never made it, with our combined occult power we would have creamed you. This is just a no score draw."

Yeah, be thankful I defeated the primary antagonist without any of the
other author avatars' help! (Jeez louise...)

JELLOMANCER: Why is no one saying anything?
LJC: SH! *This* is the time for melodrama!
[Suddenly, the case leaps out of GrimSloth`s hands]
GRIMSLOTH: AG! What the hell is this?
[It opens with speed]
PROF. ESOTERIC: This could be a good time to run away.
[A light begins to glow from within it]
WITHNAIL: Oh god... I`m too young to die...
ELRIC: Bloody felching he-
[After a burst of intense light, there is no more]

DUN DUN DUNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN!!!!!
Drew "okay *there* we go" Nilium
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