A
robed figure sat at a break room table, a cup of coffee in his hand. A
hood enveloped his head, shadowing his features, creating a sense of
awe and intrigue. The figure was brooding.
In due course, a second robed, hooded figure stepped into the well-lit
room, the brown fabric swaying as he walked. He stepped over to the
coffeepot, poured himself a cup of coffee, then proceeded to add some
cream to it. He tossed in a pack of Sweet N Low for good measure and
then took his seat across the table from the other robed, hooded
figure. Silence among them. Then the newer arrival spoke.
"So....how about those Yankees?"
The other robed, hooded figure twitched visibly and then, in a sweeping
gesture, brought the length of his arm across the table and knocked
both coffee mugs to the floor. The ceramic shattered into tiny pieces,
leaving brown, murky liquid splattered across the tile. And some of the
refrigerator. The figure pounded both fists upon the table and then
jerked his hood back, revealing a distinctly Canadian face, if it's
possible to look distinctly Canadian. A hint of flannel peeked over the
neckline of the robe.
"Do we have to wear these things?" SimonBob glowered at
his companion. The second figure jerked back his own hood, revealing a
young man with blue-tinted glasses.
"Yes! It's for effect. You know, for the tourists, and all." Falcon said.
"Whatever. I hate these things. It's giving me a rash! And believe me, you don't want to see where."
Falcon shuddered visibly and turned his head toward the door, where
both Skulryk and Liar were standing, looks of shock and awe on their
faces, respectively. "What?"
After several seconds of gaping at the mess on the floor, Skulryk
spoke. "Oh, yeah. We need to get back to the chambers. There's a new
group coming through."
Simon sighed. "Come on, let's go."
The GIFE Council of Elders was an eccentric bunch, a group of five
people who dealt with the numerous problems plaguing interactive
stories across the land. They dealt with hundreds of problems each day,
from clichéd plot twists to obstinate posters, to downright crappy
premises. Their job was a thankless one, but it afforded some illusion
of power, and that's why they kept it. Besides, they got free dental.
Falcon, SimonBob, Skulryk and Liar moved in single file down the hall,
their hoods covering their faces, heads lowered, hands folded. They
moved as wraiths down the arched stone hallways. They entered the
lobby. The passed a receptionist's desk. At the desk, a pretty young
blonde woman sat, her eyes darting between a computer screen a
switchboard. She noticed the Elders and looked up momentarily from her
work, covering the microphone on her headset. "Sir, the newest issue on
RPG topics for the IF board is up for review. I've put the dossiers on
your desk."
Each Elder moaned loudly, grunted, sighed, or made some sort of
exasperated sound to indicate their displeasure. Falcon turned to the
receptionist and nodded, his action seemed almost painful. "Thank you, Luna." His voice was laden with sarcasm.
The four Elders proceeded into their Inner Chambers. In one of the
seats, as usual, sat the cardboard cutout of NeoPaula, which hadn't
been moved in a year ever since the real NeoPaula inexplicably vanished
from the Starmen.Net scene. They each took their seats. Falcon picked
up a bunch of papers in front of him and bounced them against the
desktop a few times. "All right, gentlemen, let's get down to business."
---
Luna, meanwhile, flitted about the lights cropping up on her
switchboard, frantically responding to calls of every IF complaint
known to man. The automated lobby doors slid open. A large shadow
loomed over the hapless receptionist. Without looking up, she waved the
shadow away. "I'm sorry, sir, the Elders are currently in session.
Tours are over for today. If you'd like, you can come back tomorrow."
The shadow didn't move.
"Sir, I told you--" Luna looked up, and her eyes grew wide.
"We'd like to see them, if you don't mind." A monstrous voice bellowed.
"R-right. Right away!" Luna punched up the intercom. "Paging the Elders, you have a group to see you."
Falcon's voice came back, slightly irritated. "We're busy! Tell them to
come back tomorrow!" SimonBob's voice could be heard in the background
saying something about catgirls and cool whip.
"Falc," Luna said, "I really think you'll want to see them..."
---
Meanwhile in the Chamber of Elders, Falcon and SimonBob were playing
cool whip Twister with SimonBob's pet catgirl, Neok. This leisurely
activity was brought abruptly to a close as the Chamber doors burst
open, and Silver Tyrano marched in. AC Falcon, Joe, Old Man Jenkins,
and approximately three thousand Ninja slid off Silver Tyrano's back.
SimonBob and Author Falcon backed away, quickly pulling their hoods up.
"Begone!" Author Falcon motioned powerfully. "Or you shall face the
true power of the GIFE Council of Elders!" Author Falcon wiggled his
fingers, making spooky wind sounds. Silver Tyrano flicked him aside,
and he crashed into a support beam.
"Well, don't this just beat all." SimonBob said, noting some severe burn marks all over Silver's body. "What happened to you?"
"Oh, it was nothing. You know, dragons in Canada that the author of
this particular post was too lazy to expand upon. That sort of thing."
"Gotcha." Bob said, glancing over at Falcon's crumpled form. "No sweat,
I can fix you right up." So saying, SimonBob withdrew a laptop from the
folds of his robes, opened it up, and began typing rapidly. Then, with
a slam, he closed the laptop, and Silver Tyrano's wounds were all gone.
"Hey, schnazzy. You'd be worth having around. Guess I won't eat you after all."
"If you ate me, you'd cease to exist. Speaking of which, what are you doing here? You're supposed to be in the story right now!"
Joe moved forward. "Well, you see, we were tracking Dark Figure, but we
got sort of lost, and Falcon got a Ninja army, and we've been having
all kinds of wacky hijinx."
Skulryk stepped forward and smacked Bob on the head. "Way to force him into a recap. We knew that already. We wrote it, remember?"
Bob whimpered. "Yeah, I know."
Meanwhile, AC Falcon had moved over to the form of Author Falcon and
was helping him to stand. Upon his feet once more Author Falcon
frowned. "Hey, thanks..." He drew his hood back and the two Falcons
stared at each other.
SimonBob gasped.
Skulryk jumped.
Liar shrieked like a little schoolgirl.
Neo didn't do anything. She was a cardboard cutout.
"Nooooooooooooo!" The three dove toward AC and Author --
but it was too late. In a blinding flash of light, a rip opened within
the fabric of spacetime. A swirling, purple vortex. A plot hole. And it
began sucking Author Falcon and AC Falcon in.
"Quick!" Bob shouted. "Grab the Proton Packs!" SimonBob, Skulryk and
Liar immediately suited up with their Proton Packs, which are obviously
not a ripoff of the Ghostbusters. They pointed at the emerging plot
hole and fired. "Cross the streams!" SB shouted. They crossed the
streams. In a snap, crackle and pop, the plot hole released Author
Falcon and AC Falcon from its holey grasp. It then fell to the floor,
pulsing wildly.
Both Falcons scrambled away, gasping for breath. SimonBob approached
the plot hole reluctantly, sidling up to it and cautiously poking it
with his foot. Suddenly, two arms appeared out of the plot hole and it
stood up! The plot hole hovered upward, then at eye-level, stopped, and
merely floated there. "Hi!" It said. "I'm Pancho, the Personable
Plothole. You might remember me from such posts as Skulryk's Deus Ex
Machina to bring Hobo Mike back into the story!" Everyone looked to
Skulryk.
"Errr, yeah. Sorry about that."
"Anyway!" Pancho continued. "It's so great to be here with all of you
guys! Gee, just the other day I was a mere sentient plothole and now
here I am, chatting it up with the GIFE Council of Elders and the rest
of you guys! That must mean I'm an AC now!"
Author Falcon shrugged. "Sure. We did change the AC count, after all."
SimonBob frowned. "Is that retroactive?"
Author Falcon glared at him. "IT IS NOW." He bellowed.
Pancho, meanwhile, had procured a taco from the depths of his swirling
mass, and then proceeded to digest it -- that is, he merely place it
back inside. "Oh yeah!" The Plothole exclaimed. "I remember why I'm
here. Plot exposition. You might want to look up there." The Plothole
pointed to a series of glass windows high up in the chamber -- a
viewing window of sorts for any tourists passing by. At the moment,
Luna was up there with a group, explaining to them why SimonBob and
Falcon were between a catgirl covered in nothing more than a bikini
bottom and whipped cream. However, the real sight to behold was within
the tour group. Two individuals within the group, to be exact. Standing
amid the throng of overweight old folk and young couples with toddlers
were two men. One was ghastly pale and bore two red streaks through his
hair. He gazed deep into the assembled crowd down in the Chamber with
crimson eyes. The other was a shadow, a wraith a large blotch of
darkness upon the windowpane.
"Oh, crap." Liar said.
As soon as he uttered these words, an explosion rocked the Chamber of
Elders. The glass partition up above gave way, shattering into millions
of pieces and spraying the thousands of Ninja below with thousands of
tiny cuts and lacerations. Dark Figure and Raltise floated through the
considerable hole they had just made in the wall, and descended toward
the ground. They found a place among the long conference-style desk,
now littered with debris and rubble. Both of them had their arms
crossed. Both of them smirked evilly.
"Hey! What happened to you trying to kill JP!" Author Falcon exclaimed.
"Well, you tell us. You're the one who decided to abandon that plotline and bring us here."
"Oh, right." Falcon scratched his neck, biting his lip.
"Yes, yes! But as to why we are here...we have come to rob the Council
of Elders of their greatest power -- the ability to write! Which
means...we shall be taking your precious instrument of power, now." So
saying, Raltise waved his hand, and knocked SimonBob to the floor. The
laptop he was holding flew out of his hand and slid along the floor.
Author Falcon scrambled for it.
"Quick! We can't let them get the laptop! If renegade ACs were to get a
hold of it, they could bend the whole GIFEverse to their will!"
AC Falcon stepped forward. "We won't let that happen. Right, my
brethren?" As he spoke these words, thousands of Ninja appeared before
him, creating a wall between Raltise, Dark Figure, and the precious
laptop -- the source of the Council's powers. Raltise began charging
volatile Nightmare Rock energy into both hands, while tendrils of
darkness crept outward from Dark Figure's body. The sound of crackling
energy filled the air.
"Ninja!" Falcon exclaimed, shouting above the roar of the evil power.
He pointed toward the two enemies. "Flip out and kick them in the face!!"