The Enduring Man-Child (Registered User) Sunday, June 2, 2002 at 2:21:42 PM CST Twenty years later--the great Mrs. Brisby anniversary celebration The Enduring Man-Child looked at an old calendar of 1982. His plans were informal but determined. He only hoped he could keep it a surprise from his Ultimate Toon Hero. The Rescue Ranger Coffeehouse on the Dragon Planet had been discreetly reserved for the occasion. Now he had but to circulate the news and the invitations in such a way that the object of these preparations would not find out prematurely. "Look at this, boys," he said to his cats Blue and Sam, showing them the calendar, "on july 1, 1982 I first heard of The Secret of NIMH when Siskel and Ebert mentioned it on 'Sneak Previews' as being one of the movies reviewed on their next show. I missed the th*rsday night show that next week but tuned in to the s*t*rday repeat, where it was never mentioned." "WOW???" asked Blue. "Mew?" said Sam. "Correct, my friends," Man-Child answered, "but fortunately, on th*rsday night, july 15, 1982, it was indeed featured on 'Sneak Previews.'" A wistful expression formed on Man-Child's features. "Two short clips, my friends, and I was in love. For the first time ever." And he sighed. "WOW???" said Blue. "Mew?" said Sam. "Yes, I'm planning a huge celebration in her honor," he said, providing I can find anyone else who's interested. You know, you two are invited as well." "WOW???" said Blue. Sam took off like the wind in sheer terror, being afraid of anyone and everyone other than Man-Child and his mother (and sometimes he was afraid of them). No, Sam wasn't going to be part of anything. "Oh well," Man-Child muttered, "I really didn't expect him to participate. But now I must begin the process of inviting the others." Then, going into the dilapidated old barn in the pasture he found the special doodlebug hole that was in reality a dimensional link to the Coffeehouse (a gift from The Phantom Lord and Electra the Fire Lizard) and transported himself to the Coffeehouse. From there he would begin the process of sending invitations to the Rescue Rangers, his fellow Rangerphiles, and various and sundry other beloved characters for the big anniversary celebration of the most beloved character of all. ------ Indy (MB Admin) Meanwhile, on the outskirts of Hondo, Texas... Indy had left his ivory tower and had decided to spend a few days with one of his favorite fanfic creations. Bedivere Fairmont whooped when he saw the fedora-clad adventurer coming. "Yee-haw!" Bedivere shouted. "Well, I haven't seen y'all round in a mustang's age. Where you been keepin' yerself, pardner?" "Oh, you know how it is in the land of Academe," Indy began. "We write papers, professors insist on us rewriting them. It's a living, but a guy's got to get out and have some fun every now and again." Bedivere slapped Indy on the back, which knocked him down because Indy was at the moment the same height as Bedivere due the Law of Ironic Convenience. "You said it, buckaroo!" Bedivere said. "Why I remember back in the summer of '47, we had a real Texas Twister come and sucked up all the beetles off the ranch. I had to play like I was Pecos Bill and hogtie that mean funnel cloud! I dragged that sucker clean through to the depot, and became the first prairie bat to move a herd of bombardier beetles single-handed!" Indy's attention had long since strayed. "So, what shall we do? Ride the prairie dogs, go panning for gold? Call the neighbors and have a good old-fashioned hoe-down?" "Hold on a minute, there," Bedivere said. "I hear the phone ringing." Indy was too far away from the bunkhouse to hear it, but Bedivere's sensitive ears pick up the ringing right off. After a quick flyover and return, Bedivere landed next to Indy. "That was your secretary back at the university," Bedivere said. "Seems you've jest got an in-vite from Man-Child for a very special party on that there Dragon Planet ta celebrate the 20th anniversary of Mrs. Jonathon Brisby's debut in film." Indy thought it over. "The Dragon Planet? Been a while since I've been there. Well, it's a fine cause. I remember when I first saw Secret of NIMH. She sure was good in that." "Darn tootin'!" Bedivere said. "She's one fine lady. Say, mind if I tag along? I'd be real pleased and proud ta meet that there Mrs. Brisby." Indy motioned him forward. "Fine by me, but I think we'll have time for a ride on the prairie before Man-Child gets the word out to everyone." Indy and Bedivere went out to the corral and harnessed two prairie dogs. Soon they were out in the open spaces, exchanging memories of Mrs. Brisby and talking of the trip soon to come. ------ The J.A.M. (Registered User) Meanwhile, somewhere in Mayan Mexico... [...unWARP!!!] Good evening. ******* A certain Jaguar was video-conferecing with his nephew, while his niece sat on his lap. "Oh, come on, Uncle," said The N.I.M.H. "You mean you lost to a squirrel?" "I'm still not sure what his species is. It's either a squirrel, or a fox-squirrel, with maybe a dash of deer." "Sounds good to eat," said The E.M.M.Y. "Maybe he was. But I doubt Bonnie would have appreciated--hang on a moment, someone's IM-ing me..." The Jaguar moved the mouse over to the alert icon, double clicked, and read the message. "Hmmm...hey, would you guys like to go to the Dragon Planet again?" "YEAH!!" yelled the cubs. "Okay. Go ask permission from your parents, and wake up The T.A.N. if she can come along too." ******* Until next time, remember: I AM THE J.A.M. Good evening. [WARP!!!] ------ SomeGhol (Unregistered User) Meanwhile, in the Green hills of East Tennessee Late at night, I stumbled stumbled onto a ragged army cot that sat next to my desk while muttering evil things about people who ate one-hundred doller meals and tipped like they had eaten at a fast food joint... Before my tired body could drop off to sleep however, I felt two light weights drop (lightly) onto my chest. Opening one eye, I had to let out an exasperated groan. "Ohh, not you guys again!" Great and Redding rolled their eyes at my theatrics (sometimes I exagerate, so sue me). "Yes, us, again." said Great. "Look, I said I would finish your story as soon as I get more time..." Redding poked me on the nose, much to my suprise and annoyence. "More time? You seem to have enough time to start on another story before ours is even finished." "I havent been able to work on that in nearly a week!" "Never the less," said Great. "You should finish us soon, but that is not why we dropped by." "No?" I was now suspicious. Great had visited me for some odd reasons in the past. The gray mouse leaned on his staff pointed to my computer with his free hand. "You've been invited to an special party. Every hear of Mrs. Brisby?" My eyes grew quite wide. "Have I? Why she's the insperation for..." Great snorted at my gushing. "Stop gushing, it's embaricing." he looked at Redding, who had a rather dreamy look in his eyes. "And you, stop whatever you're thinking. Mrs. Brisby is a well bred, well mannered lady. I think she's just out of your reach my friend." Redding frowned, but before an argument could develope I desided to exert some of my limited controle over the two charicters. "If you guys don't stop insulting me and get down to busness I'm going to write you both into such a corner you'll never get out." Great was unimpressed, but Redding apparently desided to give me the low down so he could find some place warm to hole up in for the night. "The party's being held at a place called The Dragon Planet. We've managed to get directions." I wondered at this. "Wasn't there a set of directions in the invitation?" Now Redding looked, well, humble and smugg at the same time. "Well, we didn't get an invitation, umm, directly. But Great and I are confident that we can sneak in." "You mean we weren't invited?" "Not in the strictest sense... um, no." he looked at me. "You're not saying you won't go are you?" Now I was exited. "Are you kidding, I love crashing partys, and if Mrs. Bris is there... well, I'd never miss the chance to meet her!" The two mice grinned and slipped away while I dropped back onto my cot. "Wow, just think, I'm going to get to meet Mrs. Brisby..." :Gets his pattented wire cutters and stalking kit ready...: SomeGhol ------ CD (Registered User) Meanwhile, in the Netherlands CD woke up to see that it was sunny outside. Birds were singing, the air was clear and it looked like there wouldn't be any rain at all. "This can't be Holland." CD thought to himself. He looked around to see he wasn't even in his own house anymore. "Why do things like this always happen without me knowing it?" He found himself in the Ranger Coffeehouse again, without a warning. "It's the Law of Ironic plot convienience, that's why." His own creation replied. "It's going to be Ms. Brisby's birthday soon and we were bestowed the honor of decorating the place." Steve informed him. "Lucky me." CD murmured and sighed. He never really liked working with his hands to much, using a brain was much less exhausting. "Don't be so cranky and help me." Flora warned him while she was busy finding out how to hang up a few of the party balloons without them flying up all the time. "Who else is going to help me with this?" CD replied while he walked toward a crate of goodies and tried to find out were to place them. "Well, there is me and..." Mercy replied. She was about the last person CD expected to help. "Who else?" "Volunteers." She finished. CD expression changed to one that read 'who's going to save me?'. He started putting down plates and beakers. "The sooner this is over the sooner I can get back to dreaming of Clarice." He thought. Good day and yes, I'm lazy. ------ Loki (Registered User) Meanwhile, somewhere on the Atlantic Ocean Loki plopped down into a chair in the Combat Systems office, wondering to himelf for the nth time why people in other departments couldn't take care of their own gear. This time he'd been taped by the command to repair some dozen or so faults on the Damage Control Console in Central Control. This was normally some other technician's job, and Loki had enough to worry about, between a sick radar and a printer which seemed to have gone schizo, and preparing training for the Ship's Safety Petty Officers that he had to deliver next week. He'd already gotten shocked once, because this wasn't his equipment and he wasn't too familiar with it. Even so, Loki had already managed to clear eight of the faults, many by the simple expedient of replacing light bulbs or adjusting switches. This had earned him the positive notice of his Chain of Command, including being named "Sailor of the Week". A nice bullet when you're up for Chief Petty Officer. Though use of the Internet is wisely limited to official business, Loki decided to take a break from getting material from the Naval Safety Center Website to see what was going on at the Acorn Cafe. "A new Coffeehouse thread, eh?" he mused to himself. Sailors naturally thrived on coffee, and Loki was positively swimming in the stuff since the repairs kept him busy until 6PM, and writing his lectures and presentations kept him busy until Taps. "Mrs. Brisby's Twntieth Anniversary? Wow," he said, and then he said it again because he couldn't think of anything else to say. "Wow." On one hand, to know that that was all of twenty years ago made him feel old, but that was okay. On the other hand, Mrs. Brisby was very very special to him, albeit for a tragic reason. There was no way he would pass up this party. Besides, what was a party without a representative of the World's Finest Navy? "Going to see Mrs. B. eh?" asked Thomas. Loki jumped in surprise, glad that no one else was in the office with him. "Thomas? What the heck are you doing here?" Thomas was a character from a NIMH fan-fic Loki had written many years ago, "The Survivor of NIMH". It existed nowhere except for Loki's cluttered-up mind and on the yellowing pages of a dusty old notebook in storage somewhere. "You're going to see Mrs. Brisby for her party, right? Well, I'm coming along then. You can't just create characters who know Mrs. Brisby and not expect them to tag along when you go to see her, can you?" Loki admitted that the mouse had a point. "Okay, but there's not much I can do until we pull back into port. I'll need to check my charts for the Dragon Planet, and then we'll set sail." "You're on!" Said Thomas enthusiastically. Even though Loki's most recent sailing experience had ended up with him capsized in Willoughby Bay, Thomas still trusted his seamanship and navigation skills, especially since he had a larger boat this time. Loki tapped out a quick message and logged off. His lunch hour was over and it was time to get back to work. The load seemed more bearable now that he had something to look forward to. "That which is essential is invisible to the eye. It is only with the heart that one can see rightly." -Antoine de Saint Exupery ------ The Enduring Man-Child (Registered User) Meanwhile, back in the Coffeehouse . . . When The Enduring Man-Child emerged from the dimensional rift in the Coffeehouse, imagine his surprise in finding CD, Steve, Flora, and Mercy already there decorating the place. Well, actually CD was drawing pictures of Clarice, a look of rapture on his face. "Um . . . what are you guys doing here?" he asked. "We're decorating the Coffeehouse for the party for Mrs. Brisby," Steve answered (CD was too engrossed with his drawing of Clarice to reply). "What? Is someone else throwing a party for Mrs. Brisby?" Man-Child drooped noticeably. It wasn't that Mrs. Brisby didn't deserve all the fans in the universe; he was just hoping the idea had been his alone. He liked to think of himself as her number one fan. "Nah, this is for your party," Mercy said; we got the invitations and somehow found ourselves here, so we decided to get an early start on the decorating." "But how could anyone have been brought to the Coffeehouse for my party when I've only just gotten here myself and haven't even sent any invitations yet?" he wondered. Then a gleam of recognition entered his eye. He walked knowingly over to The Bureau Drawer With The Neckties and knocked. In response a drawer opened slowly and a Palomino's face appeared. "So, my friend; this is thy doing," he said. "Nay," saith the horse. "What??? Then this is not thy doing?" he asketh, more puzzled than ever anon. "Nay," saith the horse. "Now letteth us getteth our stories straight. I ask thee if thou hast been the one to do this and thou sayeth 'nay,' yet when I asketh if thou hast not done this then thou likewise sayeth nay! What giveth???" "Nay, thou doth misunderstand," said the Palomino right merry anon; "I saidst not 'nay' but rather 'neigh,' which all horses must utter in order to be true to character." Man-Child reached up to pull out his hair, but alas, he had none. "Then who invitedeth these people?" quoth he. "It was indeed I," quoth the Palomino, "for all things are indeed possible through the non-sequitur world of Mr. Benchley." "Oh. Well, now we're getting somewhere!" said Man-Child. "But Palomino, while I appreciate your intentions, I was really looking forward to doing all this myself (unlike in Real Life where I am lazy as h*ck). Now what is there left for me to do???" And his eyes began to tear. "Thou hast torn thine eye," saith the Palomino. "Nay; I didst not say 'tear' but rather 'tear,' as in lachrymal fluid." "Didst thou say 'neigh?'" asked the horse. "Nay, I saidst 'nay.'" "Neigh?" "No; nay." "Neigh?" "Nay. I saidst nay, not neigh." "Thou saidst 'neigh' yet thou didst not say 'neigh?'" asked the Palomino, thorougly puzzled. "Oh, for the love o' Mike fuhgeddabouddit!" Man-Child said in exasperation. "Just how many invitations have you sent out already?" "Oh, only a few. I've just begun, so don't worry!" he said with a twinkle in his eye that communicated peace of mind and soul to everyone who came in contact with him. "Well, at least maybe I'll get to do something!" Man-Child said, a bit sullenly. "Listen," the Palomino suggested, "tell you what . . . why don't I continue to send invitations to the Rangerphiles, while you invite the Rangers and the other Various Beloved Cartoon Characters? They haven't been alerted yet." "That's a great idea, Palomino!" Man-Child said, brightening at last, "er . . . how do I go about it? I'm afraid I never really thought about how to do it. I just wanted to do it myself." "Thou art forgetting The Bureau Drawer With The Neckties!" the Palomino said with a hearty laugh, "for Mr. Benchley's Strange, Non-Sequitur Dimension doth lead to all worlds!" "Really?" asked Man-Child. "Really! As a matter of fact, you can pay a visit to each and every character through the Bureau, and be automatically sized for each one to boot." "Wow!" said Man-Child, "and that way, I get to have all the fun while the rest of you do all the drudgery! Great! Er . . . but I am afrain!" "Nay, fear not. Do not dare not to dare, but enter with a good heart." And saying this another drawer full of neckties opened up and the Palomino beckoned with a hoof. Man-Child looked at the swirling maelstrom of worlds among the neckties with some trepidation, but the assuring look on the face of the Palomino comforted him. So, squinching his eyes shut and holding his nose (for no good reason; it just seemed appropriate) Man-Child jumped into the drawer and was gone. But to where??? ------ Karl (Registered User) Suddenly, EMc remembered the palomino's exact words. "It was indeed I," quoth the Palomino, "for all things are indeed possible through the non-sequitur world of Mr. Benchley." The term "non-sequitor" implies lack of sequence - cause and effect are nullified, a person who is here may also be there... With a buzzing like that of a hundred thousand cicadas and a swirling dizzy explosion of probability, EMc emerged, like as to the noble 7-year locust, in many places in many sizes, throughout the known universe of Rangerity! One of those places was an unpainted metal building on a wind-swept and chilly hilltop, around 2:00 am local time, where a bleary-eyed but woozily triumphant Karl was putting his tools away. He heard a thump outside, and began to pick up a handy shovel from the rack - then he remembered that invitations to the Ranger Coffeehouse always happen when he is falling down with fatigue, and alone on top of this hill. He walked outside, unafraid, looking for the Magic School bus. He met a large man who seemed, if possible, even more dazed than himself... In a like manner, people of all sorts began receiving their invitations, all at the same time, by the same man. For it is only fitting that paradox bring forth improbability in the shadowy world we know as - The Ranger Zone. ------ The Enduring Man-Child (Registered User) Wow . . . how do I follow **that**??? "Man-Child! Fancy meeting you here! Er . . . you aren't here to ask me for help with that computer of yours, are you?" Karl asked a bit warily. Man-Child seemed to take a great deal of time to gather himself. He eventually shook some of the grogginess out of his noggin and answered, "No Karl, actually, I've come to invite you to the Rescue Ranger Coffeehouse for a grand celebration in honor of the 20th anniversary of her Imperial Adorableness, Mrs. Jonathan Brisby. Er, you can put that shovel down now." "Oh. Sorry," Karl said. "Mrs. Brisby, hmmm? A most worthy lady, I must say. What's wrong? You seem a bit . . . confused." "I don't . . . know for sure," Man-Child answered slowly. "I feel as if I'm not all here. It's as if I'm only a part of myself, while some other part of me is somewhere else." "You've been hitting the heavy water, haven't you?" Karl asked with some suspicion. "No! Honest! Hmmm. Something must have happened to me when I entered the Bureau Drawer With The Neckties." Not that again! thought Karl. But aloud he said, "Is that how you got here?" "Yes . . . yes it was," Man-Child answered slowly. "Is . . . that . . . how we're getting to the Coffeehouse?" asked Karl. He was not looking forward to it. Man-Child looked at him strangely. "I . . . don't . . . know . . . " ***Meanwhile*** After Dale and the diminutive Man-Child stopped screaming they recognized each other and regained their breath. "Oh, it's only you!" said Dale with relief, "what are you doing here? And how come you're appropriately sized without being in the Coffeehouse?" "I'm . . . not . . . sure . . . " Man-Child said. "Golly! That's a lot of ellipses!" Gadget said, having come to the door upon hearing who it was. "Gadget!" exclaimed Man-Child. "Now why was I here? Oh yeah! I'm here to invite y'all to the Rescue Ranger Coffeehouse for a surprise party for Mrs. Brisby to celebrate her twentieth anniversary! Um, where's everyone else?" "Oh, they're around here somewhere," Gadget replied. Something was bothering Man-Child, but he was finding it very difficult to think properly (well, more so than usual!)--almost as if he was only a fraction of himself. But nevertheless he exerted a great deal of effort, which elicited puzzled expressions on the faces of Gadget and Dale. Wait a minute. Gadget and Dale? "Wait a minute! You two aren't married, are you???" Man-Child asked with horror (being a Dale/Foxglove fan himself). The objects of this question merely looked at each other and blushed. "Wait a minute," Man-Child muttered, "Indy wrote that last post, and in Indy's RR universe Dale is married to Gadget, one half of Chip is married to Lawhainie, and the other half married to Foxglove. And became a bat," he added. But in my RR universe everthing is pretty much like the show except that Dale is married to Foxglove and (I hope eventually) Gadget will marry Chip. Meanwhile in the show itself Foxglove is a one-shot and Gadget is going to eternally torment Chip and Dale without mercy until the end of time! Which Rangerverse am I in? How many are there? Which one(s) am I supposed to actually go to? And how am I gonna straighten this mess out???" Man-Child was even more confused than usual, and not being all there (so to speak) could not even begin to think of a solution to all this multiversal confusion. He looked at Dald and Gadget. They were staring back at him with particularly sinister smiles on their faces. Where am I really? he asked himself. No one answered. It was going to be one of those days. ------ Indy (MB Admin) Dale and Gadget opened the door the rest of the way... From the now-visible interior, Chip came and put his arm around Gadget and Foxy came and hugged Dale. "Whew, it's my part of the Ranger multiverse!" Man-Child said. Gadget brightened and nodded. "Of course! Even dimensionally fragmented like you are at the moment, you wouldn't be drawn to another writer's universe. Or wait, you could, but there'd probably be copyright disputes and there's very few lawyers who are brushed up on inter-universal law." Man-Child didn't want to even consider the ramifications of an inter-universal trial. "So will you guys come to the Coffeehouse, then? Uh, not to be impolite, but just being here makes me really nervous." "Sure!" Gadget said. "We all love Mrs. Brisby, and who wouldn't want to be at a party celebrating her wonderful achievements?" "Jenner, the mean old owl in the tree, Fat Cat," Dale began counting off, until Chip bonked him. "It was a rhetorical question, Dale!" Dale absorbed that. "Oh, okay. I don't speak rhetorical." The Rangers and Man-Child looked heavenward to whatever source of eternal strength they replied upon, and Man-Child hoped things would go this easy in every part of the multiverse the tie drawer had opened up to him. Somehow, he didn't think that would be the case. ------ Loki (Registered User) And aboard the Mighty Strike Destroyer USS Arthur W Radcford . . . Since the Combat Systems Office was full, Loki let himself into the classroom where he had earlier been delivering his safety training. The computer terminal there was a little slower, but adequate to the task. Until he had returned to port and set sail in his own vessel, Verdandi, he had to keep up with what was going on somehow. The trash in the corner was beginning to get a bit ripe. Loki decided he would have to talk to someone about that. He wouldn't be surprised if the contents of the barrel began to move on their own accord at this point. In fact, it was beginning to move. Loki regarded the moving trash with suspicion and picked up the nearest object he could lay hands on for defensive purposes, which turned out to be a rolled-up chart that someone had spilled soda on. Gasping for air, the EMC emerged none too gracerfully from the trash can, much to Loki's surprise. He did at least recognize him from the picture Julie had put on her website, and so all defensive thoughts were immediately banished from his mind. "How did you wind up in the trash can?" As Loki helped him out, the EMC was again forced to use the term, "I'm . . . not . . . sure . . ." Loki brushed the trash off of him and asked, "Where did you come from?" The EMC, or at least the splinter of him that had arrived unexpectedly in this little corner of the world, attempted to gather his thoughts from across the inter-dimensional distances that they were now stretched. "I came from the Drawer with the Neckties." Loki wrinkled his nose a bit. "I would speculate, sir, that the Drawer with the Neckties has a rather juvenille sense of humor. Talk about a violation of causality. Welcome aboard. What can I do for you?" "Well, after a shower and deodorant, I was hoping you might be able to come to a celebration in honor of Mrs. Brisby's Twentieth Anniversary." A shadow of pained guilt crossed Loki's face. Certainly a party in honor of such a fine lady was an event to be wished for, but the fact that twenty years had passed meant that another twenty year anniversary had also passed, one which he had not, to his way of thinking, given sufficient thought to. In his defense, he had been rather busy. "Twenty years? I had no idea it had been so long. Actually, I have heard of it." "Really?" asked the EMC. "From where?" "I'm sorry, I can't reveal my sources." "Is the DoD spying on the Ranger Coffehouse?" The EMC asked suspiciously. "I can neither confirm nor deny . . . aw the heck with that. No they're not," he said, to the EMC's great relief, "but I have other ways of gathering intelligence beyond normal military channels, thank goodness." "So we can count on your attendance?" "I expect so, unless something unusual happens. As soon as I am finished up here, I'll set sail for the Dragon Planet in Verdandi. I'll need a chart, of course." "Don't you have a chart there in your hand?" the EMC asked. Loki held it up, having quite forgotten he was holding the thing. "Yes, but it's only good for the North Carolina coastline. In any event, it appears to be stuck to my hand." "In that case here," said the EMC, handing Loki the correct chart, a copy of which he happened to have on him owing to the Law of Improbably Convenient Plot Devices. "Thank you so very much kind sir. I will make every effort to be there." "As will I," said a muffled voice from Loki's imagination." "What was that?" asked the EMC in confusion. "Have you got a mouse in your pocket?" "As it so happens I do, in a manner of speaking." Loki reached into his pocket and pulled out a mouse dressed in a long, well-worn but carefully preserved home-spun overcoat. "This would be Thomas, an old creation of mine." "Pleased to meet you," said the EMC. Thomas regarded the EMC cautiously. A lifetime running about the countryside alone after escaping on his own from NIMH had made him a cautious mouse, one who did not easily bestow his trust on people he did not know. "Oh, don't be rude Thomas, say hello!" Loki prompted him. "Hi," said Thomas. Loki chuckled. "I suppose that's the most you'll get out of him. He says even less to most other people." "I see. Well, I suppose I'll be on my way then," the EMC said. "May I offer you an alternate mode of transportation? I don't think I would recommend exiting the same way you came in." "Most kind," the EMC agreed. "What did you have in mind?" "Well," said Loki, looking about the classroom. His eyes lit on the dry-erase whiteboard. Going to the desk, he removed a green marker and drew a doorway on the board with it, adding a doorknob last. He drew a sign on the door saying "Trans-dimensional gateway, Authorized Personnel Only". Having finished, he gave the doorknob a tug, opening the door. "That will do nicely, thank you very much." "Thank you sir, for your kind invitation," Loki answered him. "You'll understand of course if I do not accompany you. I have rather a lot of work to do here." "Of course. See you at the celebration!" The EMC stepped through the doorway and was gone. Loki closed the door carefully and erased it. "Say, that's pretty neat. Where'd you learn a trick like that?" asked Thomas. "You'd be surprised at the sort of things you learn in Navy Technical Training Schools," responded Loki cryptically. "Ah," replied Thomas. ------ The Enduring Man-Child (Registered User) AH-HA! But **before** Man-Child left the ship, he and Loki had the following conversation! "There is just one thing I don't understand," said Loki, "from what I know of the Rangerphile community, The Bureau Drawer With The Neckties is under the custodianship of the Palomino." "Yes?" Man-Child encouraged him. "Well, it's just that I have read a great deal of the great Mr. Benchley, and I don't recall a Palomino being in any of his stuff," Loki continued, removing his uniform cap to scratch his scalp just a bit. "I mean, in the actual piece, it is The King and The Old Man who are in The Bureau Drawer With The Neckties. Furthermore, while I recall some of Benchley's other characters--Whang the Gong, Uncle Edith, Major General Hannafield of the Royal Welch Lavaliers, and Miss Helen the Last of the Heath Hens among them--" . . . and here he looked directly at Man-Child in a way that made him most uncomfortable, "I am still unaware of any Palomino in Benchley. Man-Child, just what is going on here?" Man-Child sighed and looked down. He knew he would be found out eventually. "The Palomino isn't a Benchley character," he said sadly. "And yet he guards the all-important Bureau Drawer With The Neckties," Loki responded, giving the impression he was not really so surprised to learn this. "Do you wish to relate just how this Palomino has become so associated with Benchleyana in your story threads?" "Well," Man-Child began (and it was ever so much easier to come clean once the awful truth was out), "actually the Palomino is from an old filmstrip (remember those things?) on Pecos Bill which our American Literature class viewed back when I was a junior in high school." "I still don't get the connection," Loki said. "Well, you see, in the filmstrip Pecos Bill rides this wild horse (I forget its name) who supposedly cannot be ridden by anyone. And when he's finished, he tells the horse something like, 'Looka here! You can stay here and maintain your free roaming lifestyle or you can come with me and be my horse.' And then all of a sudden, without the slightest warning," and Man-Child began to laugh anew at the old memory, "in the next frame of the filmstrip, the caption reads '"I'd like to be your horse," the Palomino said.' That is so ridiculous! A talking horse!!!!!" And Man-Child fairly rolled on the floor (or whatever you call them on ships) in pure merriment. "And the idea of the sudden speech of the horse in that old high school filmstrip on Pecos Bill was so ridiculous and so unexpected that you automatically made it your personal symbol of non sequitur," Loki said. "I get it now." "There's a little more to it than that," Man-Child replied, "when I first participated in a story thread it was the old original 'Magic Bus' thread. And I sort of stumbled on it right in the middle, andit didn't make any sense. There were these things called 'dibbuns' that I didn't know what were, and a 'fire lizard' dragging toilet paper, and the aisle of the bus was full of mayonnaise. I found out later that there were logical explanations for all these things, but at the time I merely thought I had stumbled upon a masterpiece of Benchleyesque non-sequitur, so I contributed both the Palomino from my old filmstrip and The Bureau Drawer With The Neckties. The two somehow got together in a way I don't recall exactly--it just seemed so natural--and it's been that way ever since." "So. I understand now," Loki said, "A charming tale. I only hope your Palomino can control the Benchleyesque powers under his care. That may be one reason for the problems you seem to be having. "Well, he took to it like a duck to water and none of us have had a second thought about the arrangement," Man-Child said, "Not even Major General Hannafield has complained about it, and Major General Hannafield complains about everything." "Major General Hannafield doesn't have a mouth," Loki reminded him. Man-Child looked downcast as he recalled the forgotten factoid. "Oh. Yeah." "Well, not to worry! We'll get you on the way to correcting this little glitch!" Loki said, and it was at this point that he drew the door and opened it. Man-Child's smile brightened. For this drawn door that assumed three-dimensional reality was a classic concept of the late great Ernie Kovacs, whom Man-Child considered in a way to be Benchley's successor." "That will do nicely, thank you very much!" he said. And he was gone. But where to this time? And what of the other Man-Childs . . . er . . . Men-Children . . . um . . . whatever you call them????? ------ Karl (Registered User) Back on top of Ahtaneum Ridge "Well, come in out of the cold and dark, anyway." Karl guided his friend into the transmitter building. "It's noisy, but it's better than.." Impelled by some inner knowledge, EMc (I use a lower-case "c" because children are smaller than adults, OK?) had grasped Karl's arm and pulled him toward some large gray things that looked somewhat like oversized school lockers. He flipped open the latches on the far right cabinet. "That's the IOT, the tube that delivers our signal-" Karl started explaining, a bit startled but trying to be polite. But the door did not open to a transmitting tube. It revealed a sight like what one sees when standing between two mirrors, an infinity stretched out before and behind. The next thing he knew, they were falling toward a light. "Not the light! Surely not yet?" Yes, it was a light. Karl thought for a moment he'd seen two or three other EMc's somehow merge with the one holding his arm, then more. Other people and - things - were appearing as well, but somehow the endless corridor wasn't crowded. "Well, this is interesting." he thought. Then he took a nice little nap. ------ KS (Registered User) Back in the Coffeehouse... No sooner had EMC disappeared into The Bureau Drawer With The Neckties than one of his multiple dopplegangers reappeared not too far off in a far corner near a cluster of potted palms and other assorted decorative plants. Looking around, rather dazed, a little confused and generally feeling 'not all there', he mumbled to himself, "Why would I wind up back here... I entered the drawer..." As EMC tried to find logic in the illogical, the plants nearby began to rustle. There was no breeze and no one immediately visible to disturb the greenery. That is, until a small mechanical looking device began to emerge, followed shortly by it's owner. Working past the stands of decorative plants, the interloper walked into the open carrying a metal detector before him, a shovel flung over his shoulder and a topigraphical map rolled up and tucked into a 2" diameter key ring. Looking about in a bewildered manner, he eventually stated to himself, "Go hiking in the woods looking for railroad relics, find interdimensional gateway- makes perfect sense... or as much sense as anything else since I've started coming here." Recognizing the newcomer as fellow rangerphile KS, EMC explained the upcoming party in honor of Mrs Brisby's 20th. KS, being a longtime fan of the matronly mouse, and being quite exhausted from fighting his way uphill through heavy weeds, readily agreed to stick around and found someplace safe to stow his equipment... making sure to mark the apparent location of that gateway he stumbled through on his map for future reference. KS ------ SomeGhol (Unregistered User) Somewhere, sometime, in a swamp... "I thought you said the map would take us right to the place!" Exclaimed a dirty, torn, scratched and exasperated SomeGhol. "So far you've only managed to nearly get me scalped, stomped, steamed, strung and slapped!" Redding snorted. "You forgot to mention being rolled, wrapped, rung and reaped." Great was ignoring the pair, choosing to concentrate on studying the transdimentinal map of the lower United States and keeping an ear out for anymore-giant armadillos. The three tiny travelers (SomeGhol being mouse sized due to some law he was as yet unsure of, and slightly irritated by the fact) were sheltering beneath the leaves of a giant reed plant in the middle of a vast, primordial swamp which Great had lead them into an hour before. "Hmm, let's see. Now the Dragon Planet was supposed to be the third laundry chute for the slimy mud creature extra suite at the 50's monster world, so we must have taken a wrong turn..." his mental back tracking was interrupted by the increasing volume of the discussion behind him. "And I'm telling you that armadillo wouldn't have seen us if you hadn't insisted on running from that little dragon fly!" Redding was more than a little irked. SomeGhol flung his hands heavenward. "Little! The thing was six feet long if an inch, and who knows if it would have eaten us if we hadn't jumped into that mud puddle?" Redding crossed his arms, refusing to budge. "Listen here mister, 'I'm on top of the food chain six days out of the week', when you've been food for other critters as long as I have you get a sense about these things." Before SomeGhol could say anything about Redding or his 'sense', Great let out a joyful shout and turned to his two fighting friends. "I think I found where we went wrong." Great pointed at the map. "It wasn't the laundry chute for the mud critters, it was the dressing room for the impossibly cute." Both SomeGhol and Redding's faces filled with abject horror. "You don't mean..." Great grinned with grim gratification. "That's right friends, we get to visit Dot, from The Animaniacs!" "Nooooo!" "As much as I would like to sit here and enjoy your fear, I think we better get a move on." Great said, looking down as a puddle rippled with a distant impact. SomeGhol noticed it too, and drawing on his vast experience with feature films, made the connection. "Um, right. Let's get going. Which way back to the portal Redding?" Redding looked surprised. "I thought you were keeping up with that." "No, I thought you were." both looked hopefully at Great, who frowned and pointed at the map. "I am busy trying to find our actual destination." "It's this way." His two partners each pointed in a different direction as another impact sounded deeper in the swamp. The two looked at each other incredulously. Great began to roll up the map, stuffing it inside his battered shirt. "We can figure this out later," he began. "Right now we need to go!" The three took off just as the giant, black-eyed, flesh eating, mutant chicken burst through the trees after them. ------ CD (Registered User) Meanwhile, at the Coffeehouse Flora was finally able to ask the strange hunter a question. "Who are you?" She asked nervously. The man put down his shotgun and spoke with pride evident in his voice. "I'm the stereotypical hunter. A middle European man who knows the forest like his thumb." The stranger answered. "I could have figured that out by the way you dress, but why did you come to the Ranger Coffeehouse?" Flora wanted to know. "It's because of your storytelling! You don't know anything about fairy tales so I decided to correct your mistakes. First of all it was not Cinderella, but little Red Riding Hood who traveled the swamps, not forests." Flora raised an eyebrow. Something seemed odd about his tale. "And she was warned by her grandmother, not a fairy, about the dangers the swamp had in store for her." The stereotypical hunter continued. "These dangers were the clock ringing at twelve in the morning, not to touch any treasures except the magic lamp and the short tempered dragon. Riding Hood was then questioned by Ali Baba who wanted to eat the house made out of candy without permission of the warlock that lived inside. So Riding Hood then beat him up with her purse and..." Flora was suspicious of this stranger. Was this really what Cinderella was all about? For some reason her attention went to the Drawer with Neckties. She had heard some of the rumors about this legendous place and wondered if the stereotypical hunter came from there. ---------- What is wrong with the Stereotypical Hunter? Does the Drawer with Neckties has anything to do with all of this? And will EMC finish his task and return to normal? Don't miss the next story tread of Brisby's Anniversary. Good day and buy a fairy tale book so you know what's wrong here. ------ Indy (MB Admin) A dimensional tear (rip, not from the eyes) opened in the multiverse... In Ranger Headquarters, Dale had been in the middle of playing his new video game "Attack of the Slimy Icky Gooey Chewy Mutant Vampire Space Aliens from Parts Unknown 7", when he heard a thump on the veranda outside. Normally, that wouldn't have bothered Dale so much, but he'd just finished up the level where his player was surrounded with the very descriptive space aliens in question and his overactive imagination was heading for warp drive. "Hello, Dale," Gadget said, coming into the room. 1.78 hundreds of a second later--Gadget confirmed it mentally to herself--Dale was on the ceiling, his claws stuck there firmly. Gadget looked up in amazed surprise. "Jeepers, I didn't know that you could do that! Wait, I knew you could hang there, but I just didn't know you could get there like that to hang there! By the way, why are you hanging up there?" Dale let go once he'd registered it was Gadget in the room and not something ready to suck out his brains. The chipmunk plopped to the floor, and Gadget helped him up. "Gadget, did you hear something outside?" Dale asked. "Well, no," Gadget said. "Then again, I've been in my workshop so I might've missed it. Did you go check?" "Uh, nope. I was thinking we might go together?" Dale asked, hopefully. Gadget considered that. "Well, there might be someone in trouble out there. Okay." Together--well, actually Dale was strategically placing himself a little behind Gadget, just in case--the two Rangers approached the door. Gadget was about to open the door when she realized there was the possibility of danger. "Dale, would you mind going first?" Dale ducked his head. "Do I haveta?" Gadget shook her head. "But if you don't, I'll volunteer to cook dinner tonight." Dale immediately took the lead. After all, one must have priorities. "All right, you stay back and I'll check it out." Dale cracked the door open and his shiny red nose came nose-to-nose with--well, another nose. Only this one belonged to a certain human that was chipmunk-sized and appeared extremely nervous to have met up with him. The two owners of the noses had the same reaction. "Aaaaaah! It's a Slimy Icky Gooey Chewy Mutant Vampire Space Alien from Parts Unknown!" ------ CD (Registered User) Meanwhile, another event ocurred. Steve walked up to CD to fill him in on what just happened. "Hey day-dreamer, EMC just visited." "What? E is equel to MC? I didn't know that." CD responded, wide awake. Steve grabbed CD's drawing out from under his nose. "No, it's your friend. He has nothing to do with Einstein's theory." Steve was starting to get annoyed by CD's lazyness. But what was he to do? ---------- Meanwhile, Flora and Mercy where talking to each other. While they barely knew each other in fanfiction, the Coffeehouse was the place to go if she wanted to chat with other fanfic charachers. "So that fairy told Cinderella about the dangers of the forest. The poisenous toadstools, wolf traps and of course the hunter." "What happened then?" Mercy wanted to know. "Well..." Flora began while turning around. Then she stared right into the double barreled shotgun of a hunter. ---------- What will become of EMC's plan to have a birthday party? Will CD finally learn what "priority" means? And who is this mysterious armed stranger? And how did he get in the Coffeehouse? This and more in the next 'Meanwhile' of Mrs. Brisby's Anniversary. Good day and if there are only seven of one creature, a hunter shoots only seven. ------ Loki (Registered User) And again aboard the U.S. Navy's finest Spruance-Class Destroyer . . . Loki bent himself over his desk, working out the complicated interdimensional calculations he would need for navigating from the Chesapeake Bay to the Ranger Coffeehouse on the Dragon Planet. Thomas watched with mild interest, but the math was almost entirely incomprehensible so he left to raid the Officer's pantry. As Loki was nearing completion of the complex navigational equations, the speaker above his head, known as the 1MC or Ship's General Announcing System, crackled into life. The Captain made an announcement that since there were still a lot of issues to be worked in order to prepare the ship for her inspection, they would not be pulling in to port this weekend, but would remain underway and conduct further drills and exercises. Loki stared at the page full of complex equations in exasperation as the speaker fell silent. That would cramp his preparations for sure. He had a very special event planned for Mrs. Brisby's party, and hoped he would still have time to prepare when the ship pulled in next Friday. The temporal differential, however, rendered his calculations quite useless. He would have to start over. "The beatings will continue until morale improves," Loki grumbled to himself, as he crumpled up the sheet and threw it away. Pulling a fresh sheet of paper out of the printer with a sigh, he consulted his astrolabe again. ------