The Legion of Booze KILLS someone.

Date: 4/7/2000
From: SpaceTime

"Damn it."

Dark finished unbinding Space from the chair. He'd already kicked the monitor showing MrBrown.net over.

"No monitor that's shown such tripe can ever be cleansed," said Space.

"Are you okay?"

"I've got the Lame List ingrained in my memory, but I think I'll manage." Space dusted himself off and stood. "There's still the matter of Jorge."

Dark gritted his teeth. "He took off. He's completely full of tequila. He's one spicy Mexican, now. It's the last time we let someone get the best of us, right?"

"Oh, yeah."

Downstairs, the Dominion Bar was being restocked by Kipper2222 and Slider8_. Alcohol of all kinds adorned the mirrored wall behind the bar and a keg of every good kind of beer was strapped to a tap, ready to pour forth its frosty goodness. Space and Dark came in and immediately took shots of Barenjager, chased by an ice-cold Heineken.

"Good job, recruits," Space said. "Where the hell did you get all this booze?"

"We stole it, sir!" they chimed in unison. "From a raffle trying to raise money for war widows!"

"Excellent," Dark said. "Space, these two signed on last night. I put them through the Wringer™. They've been sassified and are now so damn drunk their eyes have gone from blue to brown."

"Fine job, boys. Let's get down to the game plan," Space said.

"What about me?" asked a voice. The four spun around to find Brand_S leaning in the door jam, cleaning his fingernails with a knife and kicking a small cat on his foot like a Hackey-Sack. "I mean, I'm always down for kicking some ASS!"

"Pull up a chair and we'll spell out the game plan, S. But before you even think about sitting down, you'd best get some serious booze in your belly. Get a boilermaker," said Space.

"No sweat," said Brand. As he poured himself a shot of 150-proof rum, set it on fire and dunked it in a pitcher of seriously good beer, Lolita and Tembi Locke strolled in and put their fine-ass bodies in the laps of those they desired - namely Space and Dark, respectively. Brand pounded his pitcher like a champ and sat down.

"You wanna do the honors, Dark?" Space asked.

"Thanks, Poppa," Dark said as he picked up Tembi and stuck her in his chair. He walked over to the wall and pressed a button, revealing a huge display screen that would make Trinitron jealous. "Okay, here's the situation. First, it's good to note that our forces are strong, just like our liquor. There's seven of us here, which I believe outnumbers just about any other group.

"Second, we have sources in both the BFA and the ABL. We all know about Space's sass-attack on Sarah, so she's clearly able to leak us information when it's necessary. There's also a highly placed source in the ABL that I know would prefer to remain anonymous.

"Last, we need to get the goods on Yeontoo. Yes, yes, we have those sick, twisted emails of hers to use as a bargaining chip, but this leaves me completely baffled." Dark flicked a button on a remote he picked up from the table and the screen came on. It showed the closings of the Glory Boys auction. "Now, somehow, despite the fact that Sabre got the stuffing knocked out of him by yours truly and Jorge's blood was supplanted by Cuervo Gold after being on the business end of Mr. Belvedere's *ManHandler*, the two can be seen here, back in the auction room, as though nothing has happened. It's as if there's been a discontinuity in the space-time continuum, or Yeontoo has some seriously twisted tech at her disposal that could get these abominations of the Y chromosome back on their feet."

"I know what it is," Brand said, not slurring his words like most weaklings do after pounding a heckuva lot of alcohol. "She's gotta have a cloning machine. She probably rebuilt the one Le_Monde built during the Dominion War. If that's the case, then Glory Boys are sitting it out like two rejects from a Rainbow Brite convention in a secret lair, playing My Little Pony and eating the legs off of their Cobra Commander GI Joe dolls. And that means we should strike their clones."

"Agreed," said Space. "The time for traipsing around and putting towels on is over. The Age of Kicking Serious Ass has just begun. A war is a war because hard-core mercs like us want to KICK SOME LILY-LIVERED ASS, not go on mystic quests for fedoras. THE TIME HAS ARRIVED FOR PAIN."

A cheer went up from the table. Much liquor was imbibed.

Zack walked over to the bar and pressed another button. The bar depressed into the wall and revealed a huge, totally sweet armory with every conceivable weapon in the multiverse. "Lock and load."

All five guys immediately grabbed some serious weaponry and dropped ammo. Meanwhile, Tembi and Lolita looked so sassy that Dark and Space had to go take care of business. No one else seemed to mind.

All assembled, the seven members of the Legion of Booze hopped in the Sassmobile and cruised at a respectable 85 miles per hour to the Glory Boys televised WussVision. Sabre and Jorge didn't know what hit them as the doors blew open... with a vengeance.

"Come get some," Space said.

"Whoa, easy there!" Sabre managed to eek out before thousands of rounds of ammunition tore through his body. The roar of the guns, the odor of gunpowder and the clink of ammo dropping to the floor overwhelmed even Space. For good measure, Space took an atomizer (last seen in "Strangers and Comrades") and hurled it at Sabre's limp and mangled corpse. It went off, turning his battered flesh into component molecules and sending them in a thousand different directions.

"How's it like being unstuck?" Dark quipped.

Jorge tried to hide, but was no match for seven highly trained warriors. Lolita stealthily made her sassy, 17-year-old self behind Jorge's panicked, urine-soaked body and separated his head from his body with one perfect slice from her katana blade. Jorge's body, still working on impulse, flailed around while the other six (including Tembi) relieved pent up agression on it with a hailstorm of bullets.

"They're clones, all right," Lolita said. "There's a clone identifying tag on the back of Jorge's head."

"I knew it," Brand said as he dropped plastique all around the room, wiring it to a central detonator. "But where is Yeontoo? Shouldn't she be here to help arouse suspicion?"

As if on cue, Yeontoo, in a bulletproof escape pod, blasted from the floor and out of the building. She had escaped... for the moment.

"Let's get out of here," Dark said. Rank and file, the seven left. Walking out of the building, Brand detonated the explosives without even looking back. The explosion rocked the surrounding BBoard countryside, blowing out windows, frightening small animals and setting off car alarms.

"Now the war has begun," said Space.

Later that night Kipper and Slider8_ went out and stole more booze, since their supply was empty.

-=Legion of Booze=-
Don't mess with us.