Message-ID: <343DEF08.16232599@eagle.ptialaska.net>
Date: Fri, 10 Oct 1997 01:02:05 -0800
From: Jenn the Ice Raptoress <raptor@eagle.ptialaska.net>
MIME-Version: 1.0
To: Dinosorceror <dino@ptialaska.net>
Subject: [LD4] SB052: Bright Colored Packages Tied Up With String
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    Here it is kids!  Oh, I feel I must pre-apologize in case I offend
anyone with the manner in which I wrote a certain character out of the
Story Bored.  It was very petty of me.  I'm much better now.  So,
without further ado . . .

SB052:  BRIGHT COLORED PACKAGES TIED UP WITH STRING

 When last we left our insipid villain:

 What's this?  Sa was raptor?  Hmm . . . apparently someone has not been
paying very close attention to previous Story Boreds.

 And not only was she a raptor, but she was currently a dead raptor from
another dimension by the name of Jenn.  All is not well in the
omniverse.

 Not to mention that the Patriarch's once dino-free palace is now
infested with dead coelosaurs, and several soon-to-be written out
members of a certain Dinosorceror's intrepid band.

 And we won't even get into the fact that Selsun and Jenn (some version
of her) were recently seen at this same palace where neither of them
have ever set foot.  Ever.

 So . . .

 In between completing his 12,476th task of the day, and before starting
his 12,477th, the Patriarch returned to his palace, followed faithfully
by his bodyguard Kell, to find that local reality had been torn asunder,
thus resulting in the bizarre events listed above.  He found this very
annoying because, not only had he paid good money to have his palace
asunder-proofed, but the culprit of the said asundering was back in his
throne room, acting rather pleased at having made a mess of things,
along with all the other members of this particular irksome group.
Feeling a center of anger well up inside from this violation of his very
own home, the Patriarch turned his shimmering blue-grey eyes on this
particular player copyrighted character, and the very air around him
grew heavy with his ire.

 "Ha!" this soon-to-be written out character sneered, raising a sword
high.  "Perhaps this will teach you not to go mucking about in other
realities."

 "Your rhetoric is starting to sound like the dialog from a bad comic
book," the Patriarch growled.  In the back of his mind he reflected on
the fact that he had destroyed the Earth not too long ago, and since
that particular Earth had been the sole source of comics in the
universe, his "Uncanny X-Men" #1 (First edition) was now staggeringly
priceless.  Of course, what the Patriarch didn't know was that at that
moment, the young female velocilophus in his care was happily shredding
his priceless mint condition collector's item and scattering the pieces
all about her playroom.

 The character in question continued unabated.  "We're sick to death of
your mind fuck games."

 The Patriarch smiled slowly, and it was not really a pleasant smile.
It was the type of smile one used when pulling the legs off of pigeons,
not that anyone should go about doing this, of course.  But if someone
did, this was the type of smile they might muster up.  The members of
the group with good sense all took a collective step back, and
considered rethinking their position.  The particular annoyance in
question, however, did not.  Sie stood her ground, glaring right back at
the Patriarch.

 "You want a mind fuck, you stuck up little wench?  I'll give you a mind
fuck," the Patriarch hissed through his fangs, venom gleaming in his
mouth.  He raised his hands (for dramatic effect, he didn't really need
to) and for the first time in the entire history of the Story Bored, the
Patriarch let loose with some power of his own.

 "This is for screwing with my reality, for not reading past episodes,
and for trying to bring folks back from the dead once they've been
dead!  That is the _height_ of tacky!"

 With a wrenching yank, the troublesome character was hirself torn
asunder, each and every one of hir individual molecules broken violently
down to the basic elemental atoms and tossed about the universe as the
Patriarch viciously sent hir back to hir own reality where sie could
cause all the problems sie wanted and wouldn't be his concern.  Of
course the fact that it took hir several centuries to get there was also
of no concern to him.  And, because in that time a good deal of hir
atoms were either vaporized by stars or duly incorporated into other
matter, hir eventual rematerializion was rather on the messy side.

 The Patriarch felt much better.  Of course, he hadn't seen his comic
collection yet.  But his smile was much more pleasant now as he faced
the rest of the group and asked lightly.  "Who's next?"

 No one seemed inclined to volunteer.  But the point was moot anyway,
because in the very next instant, the entire group was whisssh'ed away
in a quick flash of blue light, yellow stars and purple horseshoes.

 The Patriarch sighed, deprived of his fun, but he knew what had
happened.  "Damn interfering Dinosorceror Council," he muttered to
himself, and as he returned reality to what it was normally suppose to
be like, he mused over the fact that one certain particular
Dinosorcerorian thorn in his side had been absent from the group that
had just disappeared.  Thinking this was quite interesting, he took Kell
and the now properly reformed (leggy, buxom and silver-haired) Sa with
him for some investigating, putting his 12,477th task on hold for a few
moments, and skillfully dodging the young male velocilophus who always
seemed to be underfoot.


Meanwhile, in another dementia, not too much later . . .

 "I thought you said we could stop and get Chinese food somewhere?"
Helvetica Bold inquired of his Dinosorceror, looking around rather
sulkily.  Although the Patriarch's palace was rather gaudily decorated,
it didn't really have a Chinese motif that Helvetica could detect.  And
though his Earth of origin had been destroyed, he had discovered that
there seemed to be an abundance of Chinese restaurants throughout the
universe, a curious fact that most astrophysists are still puzzling out.

 "I told you, _after_ I get shed of the Patriarch, and on our way to the
wormhole, we'll stop someplace," Dino was feeling a bit exasperated with
his new companions, neither of whom seemed as purposefully minded as
some of his former companions.  He hadn't yet decided whether or not
that was a good thing.

 "At least the ceilings are nice and high," Astor mused, craning his
long surprisingly flexible neck to check out the flying buttresses.  He
lost interest quickly and eyed Dino instead.  "So, that ring of yours
really shrinks things, does it?"

 "I don't get it," Dinosorceror frowned heavily as they passed
un-checked through another guarded doorway.  He had landed the
Apotheosis right in the main hanger of the palace, and no one had
stopped him, or even seemed to mind that he had crushed several smaller
vehicles in the process.  They had been wandering through the briskly
populated corridors of the palace for some time now, and they had
attracted no attention save for friendly nods and "good morning!"s from
the various creatures going about their business.  Even the guards, most
of whom were the same definitely non-raptor species as the Patriarch,
smiled pleasantly and let them go where they wanted.  It was eerie, and
Dino did not like it.

 He found the way back to the throne room, and burst in with a dramatic
"Ah-HA!" only to find it pretty much empty.  He tried several other
rooms with the same technique, and achieved the same result.  Eventually
Sa found them and took them directly to the Patriarch.  She didn't say
much, simply eyed Dino with gleaming ocean-colored eyes, secretly
wishing he would call her Toots again, and took him to the Control Room.

 Dino made everyone stand back as he burst into the room with the best
heroic sounding "Ah-HA!" he could blow through his crest.

 Busy at the instrument board, the Patriarch acknowledged him with a
slight wave.  "Ah- ha yourself," he said with a touch of irritability,
"Its about time you showed up, just a moment," He raised a cellular
phone back to his ear and talked to whomever was at the receiving end.
"Look.  If I _own_ the damned planet, then I can evict everyone if I
want."

 Dino and the others stood waiting in the doorway.  Dino, rather put off
by the Patriarch's reaction to his entrance, thought that he really
should be doing something, engaging his arch-foe in mortal kombat or
whatever.  But he really wasn't sure what was appropriate in these
cases.  How did one go about approaching a megalomaniac and telling him
to step aside?

 "I don't care where you relocate them to," the Patriarch grumbled into
the phone, obviously trying to wrap up the conversation.  "There's
always more planets.  That's what "more" means."  Irritably, he snapped
the phone shut then turned to Dino with a pleasant expression.
"3263827, what brings you by?"

 Dino faltered.  "Ah, what?"

 "Well, that's who you are, isn't it?  A number in the big cog?  I'm
glad they finally got around to assigning one to you, you have no idea
how tiring it is to constantly call someone by their title."

 Dinosorceror shook it off quickly.  It seemed that every time he ended
up dealing with the Patriarch he came out more confused than when he
went in, and he was determined that was not to happen this time.  He
positioned his feet firmly on the floor, stood up straight and tried to
be as commanding as he always wished he was.  "Listen, you!" he snapped,
pleased to sound so forceful.  He ignored the fact that Kell unbelted
his lightsaber and stood alertly nearby with the hilt unignited in his
hand.  "I want my damn kids, and I want them now!"

 The Patriarch looked unconcerned.  He waved a hand down at the two
hatchlings which were stalking Helvetica stealthily.  Well, the female
was stalking, the male was doing his best to get under Helvetica's
foot.  "Fine," said the Patriarch lightly.  "Take them."

 Dino was thrown completely off-guard, much to his chagrin.  "What do
you mean, take them?  Just like that?  You stole my kids, killed their
mother, and now you're just letting me have them?"

 The Patriarch smiled.  It wasn't quite the smile for torturing pigeons,
but it came close enough to send most people scrambling for the hills.
"Of course.  You are no longer any threat or concern to me, 3263827, and
so I need no more leverage over you.  Take the hatchlings."

 "Heh, they're cute, Dino," Astor grinned as he pressed his foot down
lightly on the little male, who squeaked and flopped on the floor in
delight.

 Dino tore his gaze away, reluctantly, to seethe at the Patriarch a
bit.  "I'm no longer a threat?  Check your sources, Patriarch old buddy,
I'm a full-fricken-fledged Dinosorceror now!"

 "Uh-huh," the Patriarch nodded.  "One who has been assigned to watch
over a wormhole."  He bent down slightly to address the hatchlings in a
surprisingly low and caring voice.  "Little ones, go to daddy," he said.

 The two hatchlings immediately scrambled up and skittered across the
floor to take up residence at the Patriarch's feet.  The male rested his
head on the man's shiny black boot.  The female took up a more defensive
position and hissed at everyone else in the room.

 "Goodness," the Patriarch said, "It appears they've imprinted on me in
the absence of their real parents.  My mistake.  Terribly sorry, old
chap."  He beamed at Dino, his eyes twinkling with an evil amusement.
Even if this visit was an interruption to his schedule, the Patriarch
rather thought it was worth it, if only to see the bewilderedly
pissed-off expression form on the parasaur's face.

 Dino seethed and felt his own anger and rage building up in him.  He
took several swift steps forward until he was face to face with the
Patriarch and yelled through his gritted teeth.  "You smug bastard!  I
am bringing you down for once and for ALL!"

 "Wrong, Dinosorceror!" the Patriarch gave him a mental shove backwards,
but Dino kept his feet, and even managed to avoid his son who darted in
on the opportunity of an adult off- balance.  "Don't you get it yet?
You CAN'T beat me!  You can't get rid of me!  For chrissake, I rule this
particular universe!  I rule several adjacent universes!  I am GOD!"

 Still holding his lightsaber at ready, Kell cleared his throat
meaningfully.  The Patriarch shot a look his way.

 "Okay, I'm not God, but I am directly related to one, and for all the
attention certain gods pay to the universe, right now I'm the closest
thing you got.  They never call, never visit, never even write.  Jesus,
you think it would kill God to dial a damned phone once in awhile?
Anyway, the point is, 3263827, you can't just push me aside, and you
sure the hell can't kill me.  Give it up, already!"

 "Never!" Dino spit.  "We'll see how well you can't be killed, once I
separate your damned head from the rest of you!"

 "Don't be stupid.  You can't get rid of me.  Far better Dinosorcerors
than you have tried and failed.  Besides, your job is now that wormhole,
not me.  If you're a Dinosorceror, then go be a Dinosorceror and leave
me the hell alone.  You can't have it both ways, kiddo.  Either you
follow the glorious tradition of the Dinosorcerors and go sit in front
of your wormhole, or you throw it all aside in a fruitless attempt to
take me down." The Patriarch's tone was steady and sensible, and for
some reason that was more frightening than if he had been snarling.  The
Patriarch knew his rules.  Good evil is always calm and subtle.

 "No, I can't let you get away with everything you've done!" Dino
frowned, but realized he was losing his momentum.

 The Patriarch glared at him levelly.  "What have I done?"

 "Well, well, you know.  You . . . well, for starters, you killed the
Dinosorceror that created me!"  Dino sputtered out in a breath.

 "Nnnnnggt!  Wrong!" the Patriarch did a fair imitation of a game show
buzzer.  He grabbed a large leather bound book off the console beside
him and threw it at Dino.  The parasaur was barely able to catch it and
maintain his balance at the same time.  Bewildered, he looked down at
the cover and found the words "Story Bored" in gold gilt imprinted
there.  Frowning, Dino opened the book to the first page.

 It was beautifully calligraphied with handsome swirls and whorls, and
colorful inks lent a certain elegant splash to the overall effect.  The
title of the book was artfully written as:

 "The HML (the word was barely visible through hastily scribbled sharpie
marker ink) LD4 Story Bored -or- What Happens When You Put the Fate of
the Universe in the Hands of a Being with a Brain the Size of a Walnut."

 "Hey!" Dino protested.

 The Patriarch smiled apologetically.  "Sorry.  You know how these
things are.  Since we didn't  actually have your brain for comparative
measurement, we had to guess.  I was inclined more towards a pecan, but
was overruled by more kind-hearted souls," he sent a scathing glance in
Sa's direction.  "Anyway, that's all the episodes up to this one.  If
you look through it carefully, you will find that never once is it said
that I was the one who killed the old Dinosorceror."

 Dino blinked.  "Ah . . ."

 "And in fact, upon discovering that such a tragedy had occurred, I sent
X in to act as your bodyguard, to keep you out of trouble. That was a
bad idea on my part," the Patriarch admitted.  "Never hire a raptor on
the basis of subtleness.  They don't have any."

 "Wait a goddamned minute.  What do you mean, keep me out of trouble?
You were trying to manipulate me that entire time, trying to get me to
do your dirty work, collecting all the pieces of that friggen Device.
You were using me!"

 "Of course I was!  I'm the villain, after all.  But I did have a
greater goal in mind.  I was hoping to prevent you from becoming a
Dinosorceror."

 Dino nodded, thinking he could see it all now, and he was relieved
because "it all" did not seem quite as imposing as he might have
feared.  "Right, because eventually I would have the power to overthrow
you, and you didn't want that to happen."

 The Patriarch looked as if he were trying to explain the concept of
space-time to a three year old.  He sighed very heavily.  "You will
never have the power to overthrow me, 3263827.  Did I not just tell you
that I rule several universes?  You don't just toss someone like me down
a reactor shaft, you know."

 Now Dino was confused again, but since this was becoming his natural
state, he was beginning to think he rather liked it.  Not in this case,
of course, because at the moment he was facing his arch-nemesis.  The
Patriarch seemed to have a way of talking circles around him, and Dino
definitely did not like the fact that he had to possess a compass and a
scientific calculator just to understand the conversation.

 Luckily, Astor asked the question that Dino himself wanted to get
around to asking.  "Well, then, why didn't you want him to become a
Dinosorceror?"

 The Patriarch checked his watch.  This was getting lengthy, and he
still had 7,548 things to do before _Simpsons_ came on.  Even though
Earth had been destroyed, its TV signals hadn't, and one of the few
relaxing things the Patriarch got to do was watch _Simpsons_ in
syndication every evening over dinner.  He sure the hell wasn't going to
let Dino keep him from that.  So he leveled a gaze at the parasaur that
was as cold as Denali meltwater.  "Dinosorceror, have you ever left any
place you have ever been just as it was when you arrived?"

 Dino was rather taken aback by the question.  He stumbled over his
thoughts a few times.  "What do you mean by that?"

 "Think about it!  Since you have become a Dinosorceror, have you ever
been any place where you have _not_ left chaos in your wake?"

 Dino thought about it.  He thought about the battle on Pollux in the
Dark dimension.  He thought about the fight with the Pneumonia Dragons
on Peger IV.  He thought about the shambles of Disneyworld after
confronting the cryogenically enhanced Walt.  He fumbled around in his
memory quite a bit, then finally settled on one.  "Yes!"  He declared
triumphantly.  "That planet where we stopped and had a picnic in a
bridge episode!"

 The Patriarch looked disturbed.  "Your people left plastic sandwich
baggies all over the landscape.  Several species of salamander went
extinct from trying to digest them.  I won't even get into the remains
of the toaster oven."

 Dino grimaced.  "Earth!"

 "It was destroyed," the Patriarch retorted flatly.

 "That was _not_ my fault!" Dino spit.

 The Patriarch tipped his head.  "Well, okay, not directly.  The point
is, 3263827, you Dinosorcerors are nothing but chaos magnets.  Every
place you go is left in shambles, every life you touch is uprooted and
changed drastically, and usually not for the good.  Every damn thing you
all do has twisted and violent repercussions for the entire omniverse,
and not a single one of you even realizes it!"  The Patriarch was
looking a bit crazed now, prompting Helvetica, Astor and Sa to edge a
little closer to the door.  "And while you all run around �watching over
the universe', who the hell do you think has to come behind you and
restore proper order to things?  ME!"

 Dino furrowed his brow, wondering what kind of drug-induced trip this
guy was on.  "You?  You, the villain?  You, Mr.
�I-can-rule-them-but-only-you-can-inspire-them'?"

 "Yeah, and that's the bastard thing about it all too," the Patriarch
snapped.  "As before stated, I rule this universe.  I rule several
universes.  I represent order and discipline and management.  Sure I can
be a little tyrannical at times, but most people are cattle,
Dinosorceror, you know that.  They want to be ruled.  They want to have
someone tell them what to do.  So I give them exactly what they want.
And yet, who do they look to for guidance and inspiration?  Who do they
speak reverently about in hushed tones?  Who do most of the females want
to have their young conceived by?  The Dinosorcerors!  The
home-wreaking, chaos-causing, planet- destroying, reality-altering
Dinosorcerors!  The whole thing makes me sick."

 There was silence for a long moment, while everyone contemplated this
little bit of news.  Finally, Helvetica cleared his throat and ventured,
"So, Mr. Patriarch . . . did it ever occur to you that maybe you're
going about things a little wrong?"

 "Really, if the people want the Dinosorcerors, then let them have �em,"
Astor interjected.

 The Patriarch shot them all down with hateful glares.  "None of you get
it.  You go the hell back to that Council and ask them how many times I
have had to pull their collective asses out of God's frying pan.  You'll
be rather shocked by the number they give you.  I suggest you write it
down, its difficult to keep track of those exponents.  The universe
thinks it wants the fun and frivolity of the Dinosorcerors, but when the
chips are really down, kids, they all scream for someone to step in and
restore order.  I'm the only one who has been able to do it so far,
that's why I made a lousy Dinosorceror."

 He looked at Dino again.  "So, everything I told you was true, from a
certain point of view."

 Dino tilted his head.  "A certain point of view?"

 The Patriarch smiled.  This time, it was a smile that might belong to
someone who had just watched a favored puppy preform an interesting
trick, sort of fond and light.  "I'll let you in on a little secret,
3263827.  You're going to be very powerful someday.  I would love you
see you really tweak out those stuffy bastards in the �Crest Club for
Males' Council.  It'd be a real hoot.  I was hoping to nurture you
along, bring you around to my way of thinking eventually, because you
are going to have great influence over the universe.  But go ahead and
let those dolts sit you in front of a wormhole.  I can rule the
omniverse just fine without you, Dino, though I would have rathered use
your influence as a means to my end.  Everything needs direction, and I
am that direction."

 The Patriarch raised his hands, which glowed a soft blue color (again,
he didn't need to, but he could be flashy if he wanted).  The blue glow
surrounded Dino, Helvetica and Astor, and hummed softly around their
heads.  It made Helvetica's floof stand on end.

 "Hey, what - " Dino began.

 "Think about it, 3263827," the Patriarch said.  "You want to be a
number for the rest of your career?  You want to sit in front of a
wormhole for god-only-knows how long, and score points with a group to
which you owe nothing?  Go ahead. But if you want to really make a
difference in the omniverse, you come talk to me.  Until then, get in my
way again, and your children might not always have things quite as good
as they do now."

 Dino sputtered, even as he and his two companions were
dematerializing.  "What?!  You damned bastard!"

 As the glow enveloped them, to everyone's surprise, Dino's son
skittered from his place at the Patriarch's feet and jumped into the
warp to join his father.  Though some might have mistaken this as an act
of loyalty, in truth the little velocilophus simply preferred the
taloned toes and bare feet of Dino's group to the booted feet of the
Patriarch.

 The little female tilted her head cutely as the blue warp glow sucked
itself up and carried her father and brother away.  Then she turned
adoring eyes up towards the Patriarch.

 "Interesting," the ruler of the omniverse mused.  "Well, no matter.
You were the only one that really showed any sort of potential anyway,"
he scooped the baby up into his arms.  "Now, let's get some ice cream.
_Simpsons_ will be on in a few minutes."

 Of course, he still hadn't seen his comic collection.



 Dino and friends found themselves back on the Apotheosis, sitting
prettily in front of the wormhole to which Dino had been assigned.

 And you know," Astor commented.  "Its not even an entire wormhole.
Just one end of it."

 "And undoubtedly the rear end," Helvetica nodded.



--
       Jenn the Ice Raptoress - Raptor X
          raptor@eagle.ptialaska.net
"Not long ago, I tried your path.  Now I ask you. . .
  Do you have the courage to do what I have done?
 Are you willing to walk down my path for a time?"
          - Erik Magnus Lehnsherr