He-Man

The White Buffalo

2004-01-15T20:47:51Z

Eternia is cold. In fact, it's cold as hell - making it no place to raise your kids.

Mer-Man came over today and was all, "Did you find Spalding Gray?" and I had to admit that we hadn't but we're still trying.
"You guys should probably look in the closet. That's where I go when I'm sad sometimes," he suggested, and we all pointed and laughed.
"Way to be gaaaaaaaaaaaaaaayyyyyyyyyyyy!" stressed Beast-Man, who had been using my stove 'cause his is broken. "Mer-Man's in the closet!"
"No, I'm not! I'm right here."
"Dude, Mer-Man's come out of the closet! Too funny!!! Lemme write this down in my LOL Organizer."

I had to explain to Mer-Man the occult meanings behind being in/out of the closet. He, not being too quick, wanted to know what being in a closet had to do with sexual orientation. I sighed and explained Fashion to him.

It was getting pretty dull inside, so we thought we might go out and I bundled up in my fur-trimmed parka, like the one Han Solo wears but bigger. Once I opened the door, though, I changed my mind. IT IS COLD OUT TODAY!

How cold is it, you ask? Well, it's so cold that if Jesus was here He would climb down off the cross, put on a scarf and say, "Christ, it's effin' freezin' out!!!"

The chill wind prompted Beast-Man to quote that Outkast song and ask, "What's cooler than being cool?" to which Mer-Man and I chorused: "Outside!"

To warm ourselves up, we watched a movie with a cold-related but highly offensive porn name which I cannot repeat here so I'm gonna substitute the Charles Bronson "White Buffalo" movie for it.

"Dude," asked Beast-Man, "do you think those are real?"
"As real as anything you see in a Charles Bronson movie."
Battlecat staggered in just then and watched with us for a bit before observing that "you wouldn't have to pay me to do that!" and we were all like, "Ewwwww, dude! That is sick."

Mer-Man got kinda shy about the whole thing and told us he wasn't allowed to watch Westerns and I was like, "Well, who's stopping you?" and he shot back, "God!" and just then Jesus came in to get His scarf, and said, "It's effin' cold," and He left without saying anything about the Westerns. Mer-Man tried to plead Judaism but we wouldn't believe him and tied him to a chair with his eyes held open and made him watch the rest, especially the six-man gunfight.
"Man," complained Beast-Man, "bullets are flying everywhere."

I got bored pretty quick, though. I mean, how many times can you watch someone ride a horse? So, I decided I'd write something in my LiveJournal. Beast-Man followed me and I was like, "I thought you were waiting for the cowgirl scene," but he was just like, "Hey, does this mean you are updating your journal and continuing the tale of He-Man and more importantly Me?"

But I had thought about it and told him, "No. If I'm gonna update it has to follow the story line of Season 2.1. I'm just telling the He-Friends that it's cold on Eternia."

After the movie was over we all had hot chocolate, even Jesus.

Well, He-Friends, it's cold on Eternia.

FIND SPALDING GRAY!!!

2004-01-13T18:40:03Z

*The following is a public service announcement*

As some of you may know, writer/actor/kinda weird guy Spalding Gray has disappeared and he was last seen somewhere on your planet (not mine) so I figured we could organize a search for him. Let's call it "Find Spalding Gray!!!" for lack of a better title.
Now sure, I know you guys are all saying, "Hey, He-Man, I already have to look for that email baby that keeps getting kidnapped!" Well, you gotta understand that babies are cute, and people are gonna look for them regardless of whether or not you read that email. Not so for poor Spalding Gray! How many people do you know that are gonna go out of their way to find a missing raconteur? And how many of those are sober?
You see, He-Friends, the search for Spalding Gray is up to us (you guys in particular, though I'll check the Slime Pit). Only we have the dedication to heroism and sheer people-power to get this job done!

To find Spalding Gray, I would suggest that first we search for him as a Livejournal interest. When you find people that list him, give them a good going-over. You never know!
Also, someone should go to the main Livejournal page and read the latest posts thingie. Keep refreshing and don't skim!!! There may just be a clue to his location hidden between those "High Fidelity" quizzes.
When you are done searching Livejournal, I'll need you to brush the cobwebs off your sedentary form and get out of the house! I understand that some of you haven't seen daylight in years, and to you I suggest high SPF sunscreen and dark glasses. If anyone asks, say you are an Anne Rice fan.
Once you are outside, I want you to check your yard if you have one, and then go door-to-door. Take a picture with you if you can (preferably one of Spalding Gray...crayon is okay). Don't leave any doorsteps 'til you have a concrete answer as to whether or not the inhabitants A) have seen Gray or B) are holding him prisoner. This may require the application of force but hey, what doesn't?
When you have found Spalding Gray comment in my Livejournal or email me. Then call the police. If Gray seems to be a flight risk use jujitsu moves to immobilize him.

For those of you not familiar with his oeuvre - I would suggest checking out "Swimming to Cambodia" and "Monster in a Box". If you've seen "The Paper" I apologize.

Here is a picture to help in your search:

Now let's get out there and "Find Spalding Gray!!!"

-heman

Please, feel free to post this in your own journal if you think it will help in the search.

He-Man and the House in the Swamp

2003-10-31T01:43:56Z

HAPPY HE-MAN HALLOWEEN!

The wake of the flat boat spun iridescent waves into the brackish waters of the cypress swamp. The lights on the far shore marked Zodac's plantation house against the night sky.

I had intended to stay in this Halloween, but Zodac's emailed invitation to a party (which had strangely wound up in my bulk mail folder) got me thinking. Maybe it was healthier these days to spend a night amongst fake monsters than locked in a room with my own all-too-real ghosts. I adjusted my ginger mustache. There would be time for all that later. For now, like the souls of the dead, I was bound to go amongst the living.

Mer-Man was already crying when my boat bobbed against the dock. "Hey, He-Man," he whined.
"Heya, Mer-Man. Why are you dressed like the guys from that 'Freeze Frame' video?" He was all in white with a lank black wig on.
"Oh, just--" he snotted, began to wail again, and ran away to stick his head under water.
"Don't pay attention to him," said Beast-Man, handing me a can of Red Stripe. He was dressed as Dido. It was a costume party. For my part, I was uniformed as an officer of the Royal Welch Fusiliers, down to the boots and collar tail.
"Mer-Man's just upset. You see, he came as Jack White and I was supposed to go as Meg, but I decided to come as Ziggy Stardust instead." I nodded like it all made sense to me and drank my beer.
"Who's he supposed to be?" I asked as Orko floated by.
"Les Yeux sans Visage," hissed the big-eared blue freak.
"Funny," said Mer-Man, who had by now gotten some control over himself, "he told me he was the Boy with the Arab Strap."

Zodac ushered us all into the spacious, if creepy, house. Orko congratulated him on his cool Angel costume. Zodac corrected him, saying he was "actually Angelus, who is Angel when he is evil and without a soul." I found the whole thing to be rather pedantic and occupied myself trying to find a place for my empty Red Stripe can.
"Where are the girls?" I asked.
"Hmm?" Zodac pretended not to have heard. "Tonight we will be playing a very spooky and angsty Vampire the Masquerade mega-adventure," he said, leading us into the library. "Oh, and you will be using pre-made characters so we don't have any problems." He shot a look my way.
"I hope I don't have to be a Gangrel again," predicted Beast-Man.
"Hey, Orko," asked Mer-Man, "did you watch String Theory on Nova?"
"Yeah. I hate it when they tart it up like that."

The library was big and oppressive, like Zodac's dad. The bookshelves were crammed with dog-eared volumes and curios acquired through a lifetime of "I'm-a-freak" collecting: hands, flayed skins, pickled babies, large knives, and a big painted skull. I hid my beer can behind a copy of the Necronomicon.
"It's cool that your parents are away, Zodac. Boy, do they ever collect some weird stuff."
"Ha! It's a priceless occult collection, Orko. But yeah, it's cool that my dad and new mom went out of town. They left me pizza money."
"Look, I'm Richard Cranium," laughed Beast-Man, taking the skull from the shelf and dancing with it.
"Leave that alone, that's my third mom!" shouted Zodac.
"Oops, faux pas," admitted Beast-Man, setting the skull clumsily on the table. Zodac sat the grizzly noggin upright.
"She was a famous sorceress. It is said that if you make a wish while touching the skull, it will come true."
"OK, wish we were at another Halloween party. One with girls," I suggested.
"No, no, it's not like that. It's one of those 'be careful what you pray for' evil wishing devices. You know, the kind where you wish you had a friend your age and you wake up with an evil conjoined twin who tries to eat your flesh." That explained Zodac's third grade skin graft operations, I thought.
"Nonsense. You just need to word it right. No loopholes. Watch!" commanded Beast-Man, and he thrust his hand upon the skull. "I wish I was a little bit taller, I wish I was a baller. I wish I had a girl who looked good, I would call her--"
Lightning flashed and the lamps flickered.
Outside it seemed to be getting windier and the house groaned in protest.
"Dumbass," laughed Orko. "If you want to get your wish, you have to ask for something the skull would want to grant, comme ci!" He placed a pale blue hand on the skull. "I wish a dark and evil force bent on our destruction were to take control of this house. Dead by dawn!!!" he cackled.

Suddenly all the French doors blew open and a dirty wind tore through the house. The timbers of the decaying mansion shrieked an unearthly chorale and the lights went out. For a heartbeat all we could hear was the sound of every window, storm shutter and door slam shut and then...silence.
"Ziggy peed his pa-aaa-ants," sang Beast-Man.

"That was a lame gag, Orko", critiqued Zodac.
Slivers of moonlight peeked into the room.
"Anyone dead yet?" asked Orko.
"Hold on, I've got a lighter," I said, fumbling in my pockets. Then, with a click, I bathed the room in a warm orange light. "Everyone present and accounted for? Beast-Man, Zodac, Orko..." I turned to face Mer-Man and found my gaze reflected in two large white soulless fish eyes. Mer-Man was motionless and then he slapped my lighter closed.
I tripped backwards in the darkness and heard what sounded suspiciously like one of Zodac's dad's antique sacrificial daggers being unsheathed.
Beast-Man screamed an agonized, "Oh, snap!"

I got the lighter on just in time to dodge a vicious knife slash directed at my face. The blade sprayed me with wet blood as it whipped by. Beast-Man's blood. Mer-Man grabbed Zodac by the helmet and, with one hand, threw him across the room. Orko flew up a chimney. I grabbed Beast-Man, who was holding his bleeding guts, and dragged him through the first door I found.

Mer-Man was right behind us and I slammed the door in his face and braced it with all my weight. There was a popping noise as the knife point pierced through the old wood. I nearly lost my grip as half a panel was punched out by a webbed hand.
"Die, you bastard!" roared Beast-Man, and pulling the service pistol from my holster, opened fire on the searching hand.
Blam. Blam. Blam. A string of smoldering spent paper caps curled out of the top of the gun.

Zombie Mer-Man smashed his face through the now half-destroyed door. My powerpunch sent him flying backwards, but even as Beast-Man and I took to our heels, I could hear him scrambling back to his feet.
We ran up a carpeted staircase and ducked into a room. It looked to be some sort of guest bedroom. I tried the windows. They were stuck and not even He-Strength would budge them. Beast-Man hobbled into an armchair. He was looking pretty wiped out, like Bowie circa "Low".
"I could have been getting candy...instead I'm going to die," he self-pitied.
"Shut up. We have to---" Slow carpet-muffled footsteps approached our hiding place, coming to a stop just outside. The door knob shook roughly, and then...the footsteps began moving off.
"Look," I whispered when it seemed safe, "we've got to keep moving. Either we find a way out or we destroy that thing."
"OK, OK," wheezed Beast-Man. "Just give me some time to rest." Just then the phone next to him began to ring. Once, twice. He answered. "Hello?"
"Beast-Man?"
"This is he."
"Why don't you ever call me?!" demanded an attractive-sounding woman's voice on the other end. He slammed down the receiver.
"Let's go."

As we quietly slipped through the upper hallway, we heard a faint creaking in one of the walls. I stopped to listen. I could almost make out the sound of overweight breathing. Suddenly a dumbwaiter opened and out tumbled Zodac, sweaty, but alive.
"He-Man!"
"Shhh! Where's Evil Mer-Man?"
"I don't know. I ran while he went to kill you and Beast-Man."
"Orko?"
A scream of terror from downstairs answered that for me. Mer-Man had Orko.
We listened in horror as in that midnight hour he cried, "No, no, no." With a rebel yell, he cried, "Oh, please, God, don't kill me!"
"He was a prick anyway," bled Beast-Man.
"Zodac, there has to be a way to stop this curse. It's your third mom's head - what do we do?"
"Well," he began, regaining some of his old self-importance, "to destroy the curse of the wishing skull, one must reattach the head to its original body."
"Great! How the hell are we gonna do that? We can't get out of the house, let alone go to a cemetery."
Zodac stared at me uncomprehendingly. "Why go to a cemetery? The body is in the basement with all my other old moms."
Beast-Man fainted, apparently from loss of blood.

* * *

"All right, here's the game plan - you two make for the front door and try to get the boat somehow. I'll sneak down to the library, grab the skull, and run it down to Bluebeard's basement."
"OK," agreed Beast-Man, "but I keep the cap gun."
Zodac drew a map to the basement on a dusty end table. We wished each other good luck and we were off.

Slinking down the back stairs, I nearly slipped on a wet rag. On closer inspection, it turned out to be a torn cloth with a big O on it. Now it was just a matter of hoping that Mer-Man had decided to spend his time skinning Orko's body.

There was no sign of anything demonic as I slipped into the library. The skull was still lying on the table and I scooped it under my arm. I made a small torch with some bits of curtain and a piece of the broken door. Eerie shadows painted the walls as tiptoed towards the basement. The door was unlocked.
Somewhere in the distance I thought I heard a cap gun firing.

The basement stairs disappeared into darkness after about three steps. Zodac had warned me that it had been allowed "to go a bit" and "some damp may have gotten in". My fourth step on the rickety stairs saw me crashing through the rotten planks and plunging into cold, dank nastiness.

There was at least a foot of water and two of mud. Rats swam away from my torch as I trudged through the sludge. Scratch one good pair of boots.

I tripped on something and barely managed to keep my torch dry. With my free hand I groped around in the ooze. My fingers wrapped around what turned out to be a partially broken ribcage with tatters of a wedding dress still attached. I followed the gruesome discovery to its pinnacle and pulled from the mud a decomposed but almost-recognizable head. Something in the mud mixture had preserved not only the skin of the face, but had kept the hair soft and lustrous. Not being the corpse I was looking for, I tossed it back.

I had found two more bodies before I heard the basement door open and a cold breeze extinguished my torch with a hiss. I crouched as low as I could in the filth, cradling the skull and searching frantically for a headless corpse. There was a loud splash and small waves rocked against my waist.

"He-Man...Adam...it's me," whispered a familiar voice as it waded blindly towards me.

"Remember the time you played hide and seek in the dungeons of Grayskull and no one found you all day? You were so scared that time, remember?"

My toe nudged something hard in the ground. I hoped it was a shovel or a flamethrower, but it was a femur.

"I found you. I spent all night looking for you. Remember, Adam? You were so happy to see me! Come to me now!"

I blindly felt over the cracked sternum and mangled limbs until I reached the vertebrae of the neck where my hand found nothing.

"Where are you, Adam? Come to me! Come to your dear dead daddy!"

I screamed and smashed the witch skull down upon the neck of the unfinished corpse.

A great cry filled the basement and the house. I flicked on my lighter and saw Mer-Man, still white-eyed, reel back, grabbing his head. His wig was slick and askew, his white clothes covered in blood and mire. As he howled, I ran at him and, catching a foothold on his shoulder, vaulted myself up to the remaining steps to freedom, the doorway glowing before me.

I burst panting from the cellar and realized that the light I had seen from below had been coming from the flames that licked the walls of the old mansion.

The front door flew open at my touch and I ran onto the dock. Beast-Man was cowering in the flatboat.
"He got Zodac." Beast-Man was crying. "I told him not to go back for his lucky dice bag."
"Get this boat moving," I ordered.
"There's no pole," blubbered Beast-Man.
"Screw it," I said, and leapt into the viper and alligator-infested water and swam/crawled away from the growing inferno, towing the boat and its single passenger behind me.

We were halfway through the swamp. Beast-Man had either passed out or died after realizing he was no longer a baller. I turned to watch the final moments of the house. After a great roar of flames, the roof collapsed with a crash. An orange haze of fire and smoke filled the night. Some swamp birds, tricked by the light, had begun to sing. It seemed to me that other voices joined them from somewhere beyond the shadows.

"Happy effing Halloween," I whispered to myself.

20 years on...

2003-09-18T18:18:45Z

Hi! I'm He-Man, the most powerful man in the universe. Did you know that 20 years ago this month my original TV show premiered? Neither did I. Most of that time is a bit of a blur - my abs weren't the only six-packs seen on the set in those days.
Lately it's a lot tougher to drink one's way through a TV season, and consequently my journal has been a little bit behind, BUT after only one wasted year, I feel that it is time to put the last nail in this coffin and finish the final 30 episodes of my LiveJournal. Unfortunately, I am on allergy medicines, so there's a chance that my posting schedule will be erratic, but dammit, we're gonna finish it this time (as soon as Days of Our Lives is over)!
Anyway, as a kind of treat and insurance policy against never finishing, here is a spoiler!

Season 2.1 Episode Guide

1) Red Stripe Machine Talk
2) He-Man Hates You
3) VR Remembrance Day
4) Escape from Snake Mountain
5) Enter Actor
6) Leatherman pt. I
7) Encore Actor
8) Hillbilly Wedding
9) Leatherman pt. II
10) Leatherman pt. III
11) Halloween
12) Leatherman Finale
13) MNSKPX
14) How to Run a Business
15) Lady Troubles
16) Visiting Hours
17) Cottage in the Country
18) Tubthumping
19) Happy Birthday, He-Man
20) The Deluge
21) He-Man the Movie
22) He-Man the Movie Strikes Back
23) Eternian Softball Revisited
24) Hello?
25) The Story of He-Ro
26) Terror Island
27) The Secret of Terror Island
28) Escape from Terror Island
29) The Eternia LJ Bash
30) Meteor

Of course, those are all working titles and subject to change, but who isn't?

Hope to see you soon,
He-Man

heman @ 2003-02-24T22:03:00

2003-02-25T03:05:33Z

Hi! I'm He-Man, the most powerful man in the universe! I'm thinking of buying a new hat, but I also wanted to announce that Chapter 2 of the new Starfiction epic Fantasy! is finally up at fantasyfiction. Oh yeah, I also got a network adapter for the He-Computer, so if anyone wuld actually like to adventure with Hrothgar and the rest of the Fantasy! cast, hook up your Playstation 2 to Everquest Online Adventures and come to the Diren's Hold server. Keep your eyes peeled and you might even see He-Guy.

heman @ 2003-02-13T00:32:00

2003-02-13T05:38:20Z

Hi! He-Man here. How's it going, He-Friends? I admit to being a very naughty non-posting superhero, BUT I have some good news. Until the budget for Season 2 is restored, the folks at Starfiction.com and I have decided to film a much cheaper series (one in which we can recycle a lot of the He-Man props). It will air one episode a week and from what I'm told its some kind of fantasy/lame role-playing geeky sorta thing. So everyone put on their nerd pants and enjoy FANTASY!

I'll leave you now with the haunting strains of "Forever Young" (not the Rod Stewart song - Orko likes that one, though).

The Halloween Special: Randor's Summer House

2002-10-31T04:53:24Z

My father, King Randor, had at his disposal a handful of castles and palaces, but there was one place that was special to him. It had been in our family for generations. In fact, there was some speculation as to whether it was the true seat of our familial line. Whatever its origin, by the time I was born, it was used only seasonally and was referred to simply as 'the summer house'.

The house seemed to enjoy its reclusive nature and huddled into itself broodingly on the small hill upon which it lay. It is a compact house built in the style of a hunting lodge - all dark wood and forest-green shingles. Its hallways and galleries are narrow and cramped. Some have shifted over time to lie at unnatural angles. Though it was a summer residence, the small windows never allowed a ray of summer sun to pass into the house unmolested. The labyrinth of rooms and stairwells and servants' quarters that made up the house would creak and shrink with the approach of morning, the house withering beneath the sun only to bloom like a night orchid as darkness fell. It was an oppressive house that seemed to breathe with a consumptive's wheeze, taking its air often in brief, shuddering gasps.

We arrived at night.

The trees that lined the drive were black and thin, impassive sentinels awaiting nothing except perhaps rot and finally destruction. There was the house, tightly wound upon itself, its doors locked and windows shuttered, like a schizophrenic so intent on deciphering the secrets of his inner demons that he loses sight of the world around him.

The house gave a complete sense of disuse and of the past, but I happened to know that it had been put to a certain purpose, and recently. The summer house was now the last resting place of King Randor, or more exactly his remains...what little the Sorceress had salvaged. She had gathered up the pieces of my father, the man she loved, and before her banishment, she had buried him here, beneath the old oak tree in the backyard of his favorite place.

Beast-Man, Mer-Man and He-Ro got out of the Battlebones while I fished through the extra weapon compartment for shovels. Personally, I had no desire to desecrate my father's grave, but circumstances left me with few alternatives. A killer had begun stalking the streets of Eternia City - a killer whose crimes were somehow tied to my father's past. The latest clue left by the murderer had lead us here to see what secrets Randor 'took with him to his grave'.

The oak was in a clearing 'round the back of the house. A light rain had started to fall. We gathered beneath the tree in a circle, exposed in the moonlight to the curious eyes of the house.

"Once we start this..." Mer-Man began.
"We can't go back," I finished for him and drove my shovel into the soft earth. "Dig."

All while we labored, I felt the energy of the house increase as its interest in our actions grew. It was obviously aware of what we were doing and in some ways became like a fifth silent conspirator.

The more we dug, the more the house came to life, and its voyeuristic delight sickened me. I lay my shovel against the oak, told the others to continue working, and wandered off.

The back door to the servants' kitchen cracked off its hinges when I threw my shoulder against it. The temperature was cooler and dry inside and the house was completely still. I walked through the kitchen and into one of the hallways, feeling my way along in the darkness.

Though I didn't realize it then, I had a destination in mind. At the center of the house, at its heart, was a small bedroom. The room had belonged to my father when he was a child and it had always reminded me of him. It seemed steeped in his smell and essence. It was, as I said, a small room. It had a small fireplace, a child-size cot and a closet, but no windows.

There was a funny story that my father used to tell me about the closet. He would say a monkey baby lived there and would play in the closet all night, and when my father was sad, he would talk to the monkey baby, and after a while, they became friends. As a kid I thought this was very funny, and I thought too that he was lying and crazy.

But I remember one summer when we stayed in the house, my parents decided that I had grown too big for the nursery and Randor suggested I sleep in his old room. I was excited and very proud, but that night, I found I had trouble adjusting to my new surroundings and couldn't get to sleep in the strange room. Finally, just as I was beginning to doze off, I was awakened as the closet door creaked open just a few inches and a rubber ball rolled out. I sat up in bed and stared at the ball and then watched in absolute terror as a little furry hand about the size of a toddler's reached out and silently grabbed the ball and withdrew it into the darkness. I remember praying for the door to close, for anything to add one more barrier between me and the thing in the closet.

The route of my impromptu tour of the house had finally brought me to the small hall, at the end of which was an open door to that room. There was a window in the hallway, but not much light was coming though. I felt a soft breeze from the other end of the hall and a chill passed over me. My body froze. The floorboards behind me groaned as if a sudden weight had come to rest upon them.

I didn't move.

There was a raspy sound, like a person inhaling suddenly after holding their breath for a very long time, and then someone whispered my name.

"Mermista?" I turned around and there she was, standing in the shadows. I could only barely make out her features, but I knew I couldn't be mistaken.

"You've come to be with me, He-Man. I've waited so long."
"But Mermista, you're with Crabby..."
"Shh...I'm here now. We're all here, all those people."
Curlicues of frost began creeping around the window edges.

"Mermista, you're--"
"I've missed you so much, He-Man. I love you soooo much. Now we can be together again."

Her face became darker as shadows moved across it. I drew closer to her.

"I can't, Mermista."
"I died for you, He-Man. You owe me my life."
"I didn't kill you. I just--"
"You didn't save me. You lied to me and let me die. You said you loved me."
"I did...I do love you, but--"
"I'm so lonely. I'm alone here. I need you. I love you."
"What can I do?" I could only just make out her lips. She seemed to be swallowed by the cold blackness. I was losing her again.

"Love me, He-Man! Promise me, swear that you'll stay with me forever. Promise."

Mermista's ice-black arm reached out to me and I meant to take it.
"Promise. I love you."
"I love you, Mermista."
"Promise."
"I pro--"

"He-Man?!" He-Ro called to me from somewhere in the house. I closed my eyes and felt a frigid wind blow past me down the hall, slamming the door to the little room with its metal cot and haunted closet.

I heard the key turn in the door's lock.

"He-Man." He-Ro had reached the end of the hallway. "Come quick - they found something in the grave."

I nodded at him and rubbed my eyes. Before I followed him, I saw that someone had drawn a small heart on the frost on the window, and in a weak feminine hand, they had written H+M Forever at its center.

Lights Out, Scare-Glow

2002-10-30T05:01:31Z

“Where ya goin’?”
“Back to Eternia, Alabam-Ra. I’ve got some unfinished business back there.”
“But I thought you weren’t He-Man no more. I thought you was Prince.”
“Right now i don’t know who I am, but I know what I’ve got to do, and it’s not singing Purple Rain again.”

Outside, Mountain-Man was trying to start his old Volkswagen van.
‘Me an’ the missus saw the Lovin’ Spoonful in this van,” he told me proudly.
“Don’t tell me you actually drove this thing to concerts!”
“Hell no! But one day we was stopped at a light an’ saw the Lovin’ Spoonful sittin’ right in this here van. So we bought it from ‘em for fifty dollars.”
The van let out an explosive groan.
“You sure you gonna need to be goin’ anywhere soon?” asked Mountain-Man with a dubious glance at the engine.

I thought about Mer-Man and Beast-Man, who were slated for execution at the red triangle. Orko didn’t really enter into my thinking - what’s one less blue wizard guy? They were going to die because of me. Because I had failed in my duty as superhero extraordinaire. It was up to me to save them.

I grabbed Mountain-Man by his stained overalls. "Look, Hillbilly Bob, I don't care if you have to sell your wife/sister for parts. You are going to fix that bus!!!"

As the triangle of their death inched ever closer, Mer-Man and Beast-Man prepared themselves, confident they would leave life just the same way they had lived it...crying and complaining.

‘It’s almost the red triangle,” sniffed Mer-Man. He was chained to an execution block at the center of St. Skeletor Cathedral. The chains were making it difficult for him to rub his eyes, so he cried even more.
“This sucks!” moaned Beast-Man. “I don’t want to die!!!”
Orko was ignored because while he was a friend and all, he wasn’t what you’d call a close friend. He was left to dwell in his own pointy-hatted misery, which he did with some degree of success.

The crowd of onlookers and well-wishers were gathering. Some pelted the condemned with rotten fruit and Insane Clown Posse dolls. Others enjoyed the complimentary refreshments.
“We’re makin’ a killing on brownie sales today,” chortled Trap-Jaw, still in his apron.

Scare-Glow approached the podium.

“Friends, enemies, and relatives. We are gathered here today to celebrate my elevation to the rank of God-Emperor and the demise of certain unsavory Eternians who for too long have been the subject of an uneven comic LiveJournal...” He paused to clear his throat.

Just then the doors to the cathedral were thrown open and, silhouetted against the bright light of an Eternian afternoon, was a powerful and statuesque form.
“OMG!” shouted Mer-Man. “It’s He-Man!!!”

“That’s right,” cried the intruder, stepping into focus. “It’s me, He-Man Johnson!”
Applause.
“Hope I’m not late, but my alarm is broke.”
A sympathetic sigh escaped from the crowd as He-Man Johnson found his seat.

“As I was saying,” continued a nonplussed Scare-Glow, “today we usher in a new age. There will be no more Blonde Ambition lording his power over common Eternians.” He paused to allow for laughter, of which there was some, mostly from Orko.
“We will continue with my strategy of ever-increasing public works projects which will unite the people, give them a goal, structure and hope, and provide work for the throngs of jobless writers who fill our streets.
“Once I am declared God, I will have several temples built in my honor and I promise you that every able-bodied...”

Scare-Glow’s speech was interrupted again when a figure in the front row cast off his Moss-Man disguise to reveal a tall, muscled and Nordic barbarian-type guy.

“It’s me, He-Man!” the interloper declared bravely.
The minions of evil fell back in terror. Scare-Glow braced himself for an attack.

“Isn’t that He-Ro?” asked Orko brainlessly. Beast-Man kicked at him, but it was too late - the damage was done.
“Someone kill that wanker,” commanded Scare-Glow.

“Crap!!!” cried He-Ro, reaching into his belt. “Don’t anyone move - I’ve got a gun.”
With a flourish, he produced a .38 pistol and waved it at the crowd.
“Damn,” growled Trap-Jaw. “That’s a real gun!”
A shot rang out in the cathedral, deafening everyone.

“Damn again,” added Trap-Jaw. “I’ve been shot with a real gun!” He collapsed to the floor holding his bleeding side.

“There, ya see?! Shouldn’t mess with the wizard, should you? Didn’t expect to see a gun in a kiddie cartoon, did you?!!!” He-Ro held his gun gangsta sideways and let fly with a few more bullets. One winged Buzz-Off and another passed through the “O” on Orko’s shirts, causing him to deflate slightly and prompting Beast-Man to cheer, “Bullseye!”

The unexpected clicking of He-Ro’s gun quickly reminded everyone that real handguns, unlike their cartoon equivalent, need ammo.
As Scare-Glow’s men subdued the now-weaponless dufus, Trap-Jaw was bundled onto a stretcher and carried out of this journal entry to receive real medical attention.

“To get back to my point...”
As Scare-Glow droned on, I was rapidly approaching Eternia City in the Lovin’ Spoonful mobile.
Mountain-Man hadn’t really fixed it. Instead he had put it in neutral with the optimistic belief that it was all downhill from here. I should have realized that after I ended Season 1. I crested one last hill and began my final descent upon Castle Skeletor.

“And that is a brief outline of my five-year plan for starfiction.com, Eternia, and the next ‘Survivor’.

The audience snapped awake as I neutrally rammed the van through the doors of the cathedral.
“WTF?!” demanded Scare-Glow, stomping his foot.

I leapt out of the driver’s seat and was about to scream “It’s ass kickin’ time!” but I got caught up on a seatbelt and shouted, “It’s ass time!” which was kinda embarrassing.

“Maybe that’s He-Man,” hoped Mer-Man.
“He-Man here, you magnificent bastards!” I announced.
“That’s not He-Man,” screamed Rio Blast, “that’s Prince Adam just dressed like He-Man!”
“Prince Adam?” wobbled Scare-Glow shockedly. “That brainless man of fashion!?”
“He’s a deadbeat dad!!!” cried an old woman, waving a baby at me. “That ol’ horndog got me with child...twice!”
“That’s a lie,” complained Mer-Man, coming to my rescue. “Everyone knows he’s gay!”

“Look,” I said, “Prince Adam, He-Man, it doesn’t matter. I’m here to beat the hell out of Scare-Glow and save Eternia.”
“Oh,” accepted the audience.

Scare-Glow said a very bad word.

“Momma said knock you out,” rapped Beast-Man.
Scare-Glow grabbed his magic lance. It began to crackle with a nefarious energy.
“Smoke this, he-Man!”

A great bolt of lightning flew from the lance’s tip and struck me full in the chest. My head exploded. Even my eyes were electrified.
“How do you like that, Prince Charming?!”
I was knocked down to the ground by the blast. My muscles were tensing up and my blood was boiling in my veins. Things sucked pretty much. I was still weak from the fight I had been in over in The Sticks and I was in no mood to be zapped by a wannabe God-Emperor.

“I...like it...like...I...like...”
I squeezed my eyes shut and summoned all my Prince Adam strength.
“Like...I like...”
I forced myself to my feet.
“LIKE I LIKE YOUR MOM!!!”

I rushed Scare-Glow and grabbed the point of his lance. There was a great explosion of light and I could feel the skin on my hand charring as power coursed into my body.
“YOU SMELL!!!” I cried, and began to bend the tip of the spear backwards. A red glow began to slink down the hilt of the lance towards Scare-Glow. Suddenly he cried out and dropped the now-useless and bent weapon to the ground.
“Danger: High Voltage,” sang Mer-Man, ushering in a White Stripes argument with Beast-Man.
Scare-Glow spun and ran towards the back of the skeletal altar.

Following him and completely mad with anger, exhilaration and electrocution, I taunted, “Turn around, Bright Eyes!”
A young girl screamed “Conor!” and fainted.
Scare-Glow grabbed something and twisted to face me. “Total eclipse of my butt!” he cried, and I only narrowly dodged the unique powersword in his hand.

“I have the power!!!” he yelled and rose the sword above his head in a two-handed grip.

I kicked him in the balls.

Okay, so maybe I’m not proud of it, but it worked. Scare-Glow dropped the powersword and yelped.
I powerpunched him.

Then I powerpunched him again.

Then, once more, I powerpunched him.

Scare-Glow’s lightbulb of a head flickered a bit, then went out, leaving just a sour skull face.
“Skeletor!” hissed the crowd.
For it really was Skeletor after all.

“Hello...is it me you’re looking for?” whispered Skeletor, a single tear in his eye.
I pulled back my fist and powerpunched him as I have never powerpunched any skull-headed freak guy before. There was a great ripping noise, and his head, which was stitched on, tore off and sailed through the air and broke a window which I would have to pay for later.

I lifted the powersword off the ground and pointed it towards the sky.

"I HAVE THE POWER!!!"

Outside, after I had freed the guys and signed autographs, a little girl with a flower ran up to me. I recognized her as the one who had watched as I was stabbed back at the attack on Disposable.
“He-Man! He-Man!” she giggled.

I knocked her down into a puddle and said, “That’s what ya get for gettin’ me stabbed, you crybaby!”

It’s good to be He-Man again.

heman @ 2002-10-28T23:11:00

2002-10-29T04:16:44Z

“Where the hell is He-Man when you need him?” wondered an irritated Beast-Man as he crawled through the maze-like air ventilation ducts of Castle Skeletor.
Behind him Orko whistled in appreciation.
“Scare-Glow sure keeps these vents clean, and they’re big like in the movies.”
“Something in here smells like ladies!” complained He-Ro for the millionth time. The group stopped as Beast-Man came to a fork in the vents.

“No more talk about smells,” he ordered over his shoulder.
“Dude!” disregarded He-Ro, “it’s you!”
“No, it isn’t,” denied Beast-Man.
Orko began to hum.
“Yes, it is,” continued He-Ro. “You smell like perfume!”
“He’s a fragrant liar,” suggested Orko readily.
“Screw you, Orko, you don’t even have a nose!!!” Beast-Man began crawling quickly ahead.

“You can’t get away! You are wearing perfume!” shouted He-Ro as he shuffled after him. “Admit it!!!”
“That’s the last time I let prostitutes wash my clothing, heh heh,” chuckled Beast-Man lamely.
“Dude, you are wearing girlfume. Now what is it?”

Beast-Man slowed.
“................”, he mumbled.
“What?!” demanded Orko and He-Ro in unison.
“OH MY DOG!!!” screamed Beast-Man as the grate beneath him broke open and he fell deeper into mystery.

Meanwhile, Mer-Man was in his cell sitting in front of his Bondi Blue original iMac and preparing a post for the My Little Pony message boards.

DeAR PoNy FRiEnDs,
My FAvoRiTe PoNy bOOk iS UnDeR THe BiG Top! LoL!!!!
DoES AnYONE KnOW ThE NAmE oF The BAby PoNY WiTH A SaiLBoaT oN iTS BuTT? I HEaRd A SonG oNCE

Mer-Man’s message was interrupted when Beast-Man improbably fell through a hole in the ceiling.

“OH MY DOG!!!” screamed Beast-Man as he descended.

Beast-Man hit the ground with a thud, and Mer-Man waited anxiously as his friend dusted himself off. He had a strong urge to run and hug the furry and teddy bear-like Beast-Man but felt that this might be considered inappropriate, so he satisfied himself with a small hand wave at hip height and a fairly nonchalant “Hey!”

“Hey, Mer-Man,” responded Beast-Man wearily. Orko floated down through the hole in the vent.
“Hey.”
“Hey.”
“Hey,” shouted He-Ro from the vent, “is it safe to come down?”

“What took you guys so long in coming to save me?” asked a teary-eyed Mer-Man.
“We were trying to get tickets for the Interpol show,” admitted Beast-Man.
“That show is like soooooooooooo sold out!” marveled Mer-Man as a flutter pony traipsed across his screen saver. Beast-Man politely looked away.

“Is it safe?” hissed He-Ro again. Everyone ignored him.
“We were gonna wait for He-Man,” began Orko, “but he’s like dead or something. My birthday’s next week, wanna come?”

Before Mer-Man could answer, the door to his cell was kicked open and in hustled Scare-Glow, Trap-Jaw and three assorted stooges.
“Larry, Moe, seize them!!!” commanded Scare-Glow.
“I could have sworn that was going to be an Iggy Pop joke,” wistfulled Mer-Man.

As the thugs held Beast-Man and Orko at gunpoint, a voice from the air vent whispered, “Is it safe yet?”
“Yes! Very safe,” lied Scare-Glow in a wavering falsetto.
‘It’s about time!” humpfed He-Ro as he stuck he head in the room only to retract it as laser beams scorched his hair.

“Crap!” he decided, and began shuffling backwards down the air vent which was now the subject of attention of four turbo laser carbines.
“Don’t worry about him,” Scare-Glow laughed. “The electro-death rodents will see to him. We have much better things to attend to!”

As Beast-Man, Mer-Man and Orko were shepherded out of the room in chains, it became readily apparent that one of the “things” was not going to be the Interpol show!

Elsewhere in the Sticks...

“ALF, qu'avez-vous fait?!”
“Guillaume, pourquoi êtes-vous tellement rapidement irrités?!!”

We interrupt today’s Rerun-En-Francais to bring you this important news bulletin. Evil Lord Scare-Glow has just announced that there will be a public execution of the traitors Beast-Man, Orko, and Mer-Man tomorrow at the red triangle and this will be followed by a short ceremony declaring the skull-faced politician God-Emperor of Eternia. All are invited to join in his happiness.

For the first time in a great while, He-Man spat up his Bitch Flakes.

Prince Adam, the Most Powerful Man in the Universe

2002-09-27T16:09:57Z

After several hours of crying and denial I had finally come to grips with the fact that I was now Prince Adam exclusively. But that didn’t mean I was going to wear lavender pants without a fight.
As soon as I was well enough (and I learned, much to my annoyance, that Prince Adam doesn’t heal as fast as He-Man), I asked Alabam-Ra to take me to Target to buy some new clothes.

“So what’s it like being Prince Adam?” she asked as we drove.
“Like He-Man, but kinda lame.”
“You look the same as you did before.”
“Actually, in this form I have a mole, but I can’t show it to you, and I’m also much weaker.”
“Hmmm,” she pondered, “I wonder how other things stack up...”
“Hands on the wheel, young lady.”

Seeing how it was going to be such a big shopping day, Alabam-Ra decided to stop by the bar that she works at on the way to pick up her paycheck.
It was a rundown building with a large sign that said “The Shimmy Shack” out front. The sign looked to have some bullet holes in it but I guess it might have just been moth-eaten.
“Come on in, He-Man,” Alabam-Ra insisted. “ I want to show you off to my friends.”
After a lot of begging and boredom I finally agreed.

It was only about midday, so the bar wasn’t really crowded, but it was very dark with week-old smoke and lack of light bulbs. The handful of regulars who were there were mostly looking at some ladies who were dancing unenthusiastically in discount shark cages. When Alabam-Ra noticed me looking towards the cages she blushed a bit.
“I do that. I’m a dancer. One day I’ll be in that Fame movie.”

A burly and dirty man ambled forward to greet us.
“Why Alabam-Ra, you ain’t never said no nothin’ ‘bout havin’ no sister! An’ such a pretty one, too.”
Alabam-Ra laughed, “Cletus, this ain’t my sister! He’s my friend He-Man--”
Cletus pulled his welcoming hand back in revulsion. A few of the regulars glanced in our direction.
“This is a man!? Looks like some kind of sissy dude!”

“Hold on, Cletus,” shouted a man rising from his table and disturbing a pile of half-eaten walnuts. “Maybe this here sissy dude is English Bob!”
Cletus gave me a hard look. “Is that right, mister? Are you English Bob?”
“No. I’m He-Man.”
“That’s right,” announced Alabam-Ra, “an’ he’s a Prince of Eternia.”
“Prince of Fruitopia, more like,” the redneck who had until recently believed I was English Bob mumbled through a mouthful of walnuts.

“Alabam-Ra, why not get your check?” I suggested, and she and Cletus disappeared into the backroom.
By now a small circle of inbred regulars had formed around me. Cletus’s friend, whose name turned out to be Walnut Joe, was the ringleader.
“Fruitopia, I says,” he laughed for the twelfth time.
“You a prince?” asked another. “So sing ‘When Doves Cry’.”
“Yeah, sing us a song, you’re the piano man.”

I heard a commotion from the back room so I pushed through the crowd which whistled and hooted at me as I walked. As I approached the door to the back room, I heard Cletus say, “C’mon, gimme some sugar, baby!”
I walked in. Alabam-Ra was in his lap. She scurried down and fixed her top when she saw me. She looked sad.
I sighed, and as Cletus stood up, I punched him square on the jaw.
He looked at me with some surprise but with no other damage so I punched him again. This time he ducked. It sucks to be Prince Adam.

As I sailed through the air and crashed down on a table, I regretted not having listened to the Sorceress when she had suggested that I do some Prince Adam exercises.
To help me to my feet, one of the rednecks ran over and planted a pointy-toe boot in my side. This was a big hit with the Hee-Haw crowd.

“We ain’t had this much fun since the mechanical bull gave out!” In a dusty corner I could see the shamed and violated bull ride try and hide itself in the shadows.
I made the mistake of standing up and Cletus was kind enough to punch me in the left eye. As I staggered backwards I tripped over Walnut Joe’s outstretched leg and toppled to the floor in a mixture of blood, glass, and spilled beer.

In a beautifully choreographed move, all the rednecks began doing a Mexican Hat Dance, substituting me for the hat. Whenever I tried to get up, someone would punch, kick or beat me down.

The floor began to seem a very comfortable place. In fact, I kinda felt like taking a nap on it. I closed my eyes and began to fall asleep, lulled by the rhythmic kickings I was receiving. My lack of response had gotten so boring to my attackers that only Cletus and Walnut Joe were left. The others had gone back to their drinks.

“Wake up, He-Man!” screamed a little voice in my head.
“No!” I told it. “Anyway, I’m Prince Adam. Leave me alone.”
“Get up, Alabam-Ra needs you. These guys are gonna kill you and then what do you think will happen?”
“I’ll get to star in ‘Touched By an Angel?’ Screw you, I need a hero this time! Send someone else!!!”
Things in the outside world were lessening up a bit. I was only being kicked by one set of feet now.
I heard from somewhere out in space Cletus saying, “C’mon, girl. I’m-a teach you some respect!” and I heard Alabam-Ra cursin’ and carryin’ on.
“Get up, He-Man” said the little voice again.

I opened one swollen eye. Walnut Joe had pulled up a chair and was now only kicking me once in a while, when he wasn’t pouring beer on me.
“You awake, Princess? I’d love to show you how we treat a Princess of Power down here in The Sticks!” He made a kissy face.
Alabam-Ra was being dragged back into the back room by Cletus. No one else was paying much attention to anything.

“Aw, hell...” I sighed, pulling myself up a bit with the help of a table. If I was going to save people as Prince Adam, I was going to have to do it a little differently.
“What can I do for ya, darlin’?” asked Joe.
“Don’t kill me. I got money! Here, you can have it...” Walnut Joe’s eyes lit up at my words. I stood up on my wobbly legs.
“Give it here.” He extended a shaking alcoholic hand towards me.

In that instant, I lunged forward, grabbed his hand and pulled back two of the fingers ‘til they broke. As Joe let out a howl of pain, I kicked him in the walnuts.
Heads turned. Joe bent double, clutching his pocketful of miracles with broked fingers. I grabbed him by his Skynrd shirt and rammed his face into the jukebox, which shattered and kicked into a rousing rendition of “The Night That Minnie Timperley Died.”

Cletus let go of Alabam-Ra and barreled straight at me like a bull. As he came, I swiped a longnecked beer bottle off a table and screaming, “I HAVE THE POWER!” smashed it across his face. He fell back, grabbing his nose and screaming.

By this point all the rest of F Troop had gotten up and were rushing me.
The first to arrive got the rest of my broken bottle driven into the bit of stomach that hung over his belt. I’m sure it was only a flesh wound, but it bled lots.
Someone landed a punch on me while I was stabbing the ectomorph, and I took it and returned it with interest in the form of a headbutt.
Quickly I discovered that my martial arts moves were all still there - they just felt a bit rusty and maybe better suited to a better body. But I really didn’t have time for preferences at that point. I tossed a chair into one guy’s legs as he ran at me and, as he sprawled out on the floor, I brought a mean axe kick down into the base of his spine.

I was punched and buffeted so much that I lost count, but I refused to fall down.
“I’m He-Man,” I roared, “the meanest sonofabitch in the universe!” And after a few broken arms and ribs the rednecks were starting to believe me.
I lifted a table above my head and used it to crushed two midget-like hicks ‘til all that was left of them was some belt buckles and bits of alfalfa.

“He-Man, look out!!!” cried Alabam-Ra.
I turned to see Cletus standing behind the bar with a laser carbine. His face was a mess of cuts and bruises.
“Get out!” he hissed. “Both of ya, get out, an’ if I ever see either of ya agin, I’ll kill ya.”

I looked around. The place was trashed and all the furniture and patrons lay broken on the floor. Luckily the dancers were unhurt thanks to the shark cages.
“Let’s go, Alabam-Ra.” I turned on my heel and walked out the door, pausing only to tell the survivors, “That’s how we handle things back in Fruitopia.”

We both got outside without being back-shot, and I asked Alabam-Ra if she had gotten her check, and she laughed and showed me a bag of money she had stolen along with it. I couldn’t really make her put it back, what with Cletus’s threat and the fact that she admitted to having set fire to the back room during the fight.
“That’ll be a lesson to me, sure!” she said as she started the ignition. “Never work for relatives!”

Where’s My Vest

2002-09-23T04:14:26Z

[Error: Irreparable invalid markup ('<lj-user=>') in entry. Owner must fix manually. Raw contents below.]

I fell asleep.

“Hello, He-Man!”
“Hi! Who are you again?”
There was a large translucent blue skull floating in front of me. So many skulls in my life, I thought.

“Don’t you remember?” The skull looked hurt. “I’m the Spirit of Grayskull!!!”
“Oh, shouldn’t you be gray in that case? Your name is still lame. Don’t you have a real one like Dave or Moss-Man?”
“No. Just the Spirit of Grayskull.” I started walking through the cartoon landscape of my mind, but the skull followed me.
“Any chance of you turning into She-Ra and being naked?”
“No. But I could become Ted Kennedy. It’s just a power I had.” The skull shrugged shoulderlessly.

“What did you want anyway?”
“I’m here to warn you. Something terrible is about to happen. You know that Scare-Glow has entered into Castle Grayskull with your powersword, right?”
“What?! And here I was thinking he was carrying a loaf of bread.”
“There’s no need to be a bitch about it. Lots of other people would be happy to have me in their dreams. <lj-user= “madrain”>, for instance.”

I turned to face the big shimmery pain in the ass but he had been replaced with an image of Castle Grayskull itself. I saw Scare-Glow striding into the throne room and taking out the sword.
“What’s he doing?” I asked involuntarily.
“He’s replacing you.”
“He’s really Skeletor, isn’t he?”
“Yes. Evil-Lyn brought him back using some spells she found in the Tomb of the Monarchs.”
“Sounds allergenic. What do you mean replacing me?”
“Watch!”

Scare-Glow lifted the powersword above his head and cried, as I have countless times, “By the Power of Grayskull!”
“Can’t you stop him?” I asked the Spirit.
‘No. I am under his command now, but I thought I should warn you about it.”

“Thanks,” I said, and my knees buckled as all the superhero strength drained out of me.
I heard Scare-Glow scream triumphantly and the Spirit of Grayskull whisper, “Goodbye, He-Man.” And then I was back in the bed in Mountain-Man’s cabin.

I felt terrible and it took all the strength I had left to peel back the bedcovers. Underneath I saw that I was wearing lavender pants and I was drenched in sweat. Not a pretty combination.

“Hello, Prince Adam,” I sighed, and swung my legs out of bed.

Ask He-Man

2002-09-22T02:40:19Z

“Buddy, mon Dieu! Qu’avez-vous fait?”
“Charles, je ne sais pas. Les pamplemousses sont partout!”

There was a knock at the door, so I clicked off the TV.
“Are you awake?” It was Alabam-Ra.
“No.” She didn’t believe me and came in anyhow.
“How y’all feelin’?” she asked, popping up on the bed/couch.
“Like I’ve been stabbed in the back.”
“Did a girl do you wrong?”
“Nah, a glowing skeleton guy. What can I do for you, Alabam-Ra?”
“I’s just thinkin’ about how you’re from Eternia City, an’ I always wanted to go to Eternia City and I almost would have once if our cheerleadin’ team had made the finals, but it didn’t because Stacey Jorgensen is such a stuck-up bitch that even her own mama won’t let her in the house at might what with after she stole that money to buy the kangaroo baby she said she found.”
I clicked the TV back on.

“So...you want to go to Eternia City with me?”
“Yes!”
“No.”
“Why not?!” Alabam-Ra pouted and tried to look hurt. “Is it ‘cause I’m young? I may be in years but I’m a whole lot grown up!”
“I’m sure you are, if men’s rooms walls are to be believed.”
Alabam-Ra crept further up the covers towards me. I sighed. One of her fake eyelashes was half hanging down. She tried to push it back up while she pretended to cry.

“You’re just like all men. You use and take what you want and then you leave a girl on her own...” She peered up to gauge my reaction, and then continued. “I could be good for you. I have talent. I just need an opportunity to prove myself.”
“How about...no.”

She discarded the eyelash and tried another tact.
“I can be real, real good to you. It would be worth it. I can be both sassy and slutty. Ask my uncle Orville.”
For a moment, the once benevolent image of Orville Redenbacher, now in a rutting heat, appeared in my mind. I turned my face to the wall in disgust.
“No. You can stay here. This is where you belong.” Eternia’s for people, I almost added.

Just then there was a knock at the door and Scooter appeared. Alabam-Ra got up in a huff and sauntered out of the room hippily. Scooter watched his sister’s egress (almost said ass) with near-amorous devotion.

“He-Man?”
“That’s me. You can’t come to Eternia City.”
“Uh...I don’t want to...” Scooter stammered.
“Well, you can’t have a gun or touch my muscles either.”
“Okay.”
“Repeat after me: ‘No gun, no muscle touching’.”
“No gun, no muscle touching.”
“Good enough, now what do you want?”

Scooter sat down on the bed and wiggled himself good and hard into the warm spot his sister had just vacated.
“He-Man, did you never love a woman? Not in a Bryan Adams way.”
“Did I ever love a woman? Yes, quite a few...this isn’t a question about those ‘Moan Zones’ you read about in Cosmo, is it?”
“Nossir, I just wanted your advice on romancin’ the lady of my dreams.”
“Buy her some false teeth,” I muttered quietly. “Who is this lucky lady?”

“Well, she’s beautiful and sweet and honest and I hear tell she’s still almost a virgin.” Scooter must have been about 8 years old. “I love her dearly, and one day when I become a riverboat gamblin’ man I will surely do right by her and make her my wife.”
“Glad to see you got it all figured out. When’s M*A*S*H come on?”
“Only thing is, I don’t know if she loves me.”
“I’m sure she does. Best way to find out is to slip her some tongue.”
“How do I do that?!”
“I’m not showing you! Ask your gym teacher.”

“So I should tell her how I feel?”
“Sure, can’t hurt unless she gouges you in the eye. Who is the lucky lady?”
Here he giggled and blushed. He whispered a name, but I couldn’t hear him at first, so I made him whisper it a bit louder.
“Your sister?!!!”

Scooter bobbed his head up and down innocently. I turned my face up to heaven and hoped there was still time.
“Listen to me now, Scooter, and listen good. Sister lovin’, much like father rapin’, is frowned upon by society. Only sick, sick, weird, sick people want to get wild with their siblings. It just isn’t done. No! Alabam-Ra is off limits for you completely.”
Tears welled up in the young pervert’s eyes.
“What you need, “I continued, “is another girl. Any girl to take your mind of Alabam-Ra. Myself, I love She-Ra. That’s cool. That’s hot. That’s okay, ya see? Loving your sister, though, is just wrong.”
“Could I love She-Ra?”
“Don’t be stupid, you wouldn’t have a shot. She’s all over me. No. You need a different girl who isn’t related to you.”
“But I’m related to everyone in town! Wait, do nuns count?”
“Depends on the nun. Are you sure there isn’t anyone?”
“Well...There’s Mad Mable. We call her Mad because she’s insane. She has one eye that works and the other is made of a bottle cap.”

“Well, there ya go. Mad Mable sounds real nice. Why don’t you try to love her?”
Scooter closed his eyes and squinted with concentration. Then he shook his head back and forth real fast with obvious mental effort.
“No!” he announced. “Can’t love her.”
“Come on! Give Mable a chance. Isn’t there anything you like about her?”
Scooter thought again for a good long while.
“Well, she wears the same pants.”
“Same pants as you?”
“No, she wears her own pants, the same pants, every day. I like that, I guess.”
“Well, there you go! Write Mable a poem that compliments her pants. She’ll love you in no time!”
Scooter eagerly grabbed a pen and ran out the door.

I hardly had time to watch Alan Alda walk into the tent when Mountain-Man slipped into my room.
“Do you want advice about love?” I asked wearily.
“No. I was just wondering if you had some LJ activation codes?”
Before I got to bed, Mrs. Man came in and talked to me about poisons that leave no trace when used correctly. Sometimes the people part of being a hero is harder than the punching part.

A Whole Passel o’ Trouble

2002-09-20T17:06:24Z

Mountain-Man licked his lips and stared at me with a strange intensity.
“Oh, Father! Shouldn’t we be sure he’s dead yet?” asked Mrs. Man, wringing her hands.
“He’s dead enough. An’ meat tastes better fresh.” He leaned over to taste my nose.

“You pervy face-eating freak!” I yelled, grabbing him by the scruff of the neck and tossing him across the room. Mountain-Man moaned and his wife let out a shrill scream.
“Lord, he’s alive!”
“Sir,” began Mountain-Man, trying to reassemble his dignity, “you was shot, and I have medicced you back to health. Kindly do not throw me around my own home.”
“I was stabbed,” I corrected. “And you tried to eat me.”
“Unh-uh,” protested a small boy. “You was shot. We spent near a whole night lookin’ to take out the bullet with these.” He waved a pair of barbecue tongs at me. “We din’t find it though.”
“Scooter! I tol’ you to shut up! Now shut!!!” chided Mrs. Man lovingly.

I was in a small cabiny-like place. Most of the furniture looked homemade. Even the TV was built out of cereal boxes. Mountain-Man and Scooter were both only wearing overalls, though Mountain-Man complimented this with a beaten-up straw hat which showed his superiority. Mrs. Man was dressed like a couch.

“What time is it? I asked, brushing off some fleas and mice.
“Half-past the shiny triangle. Where do you come from, Mister?”
“From Eternia City. Where am I?”
“Whooooooo hooooo! Eternia City?! You musta walked all night long to get here. You’ve slipped clear over the border. This here’s The Sticks.”

I shuddered inwardly. All good Eternian children are told stories about The Sticks.
“Isn’t this where everyone marries his sister and stuff?”
Mrs. Man blushed, and she and Mountain-Man exchanged a look of marital bliss.

“Well, sir,” blustered my hick host, “you must be hungrier than a radioactive death tomcat what’s raisin’ eight young on its back.”
“I reckon so,” I answered honestly.

As Mountain-Man set to work preparing his “vittles”, the door of the shack blew open and a teenage girl in inappropriate shorts came in stared at everyone, sighed in disgust, and sat down on a barrel.

“Alabam-Ra! What are you doin’ a-sulkin’ an’ sighin’ in front of company?” demanded Mrs. Man, scandalized.
“Hmphh,” answered Alabam-Ra smartly. “Who’s company? I thought that fella was lunch.”
Mountain-Man coughed loudly into the vittles.

“Oh, merciful heavens! Are you wearin’ lipstick again like some tarted-up whore Jezebel on Melrose Place?!” In truth it looked more like the lipstick had had some girl smudged onto it. There was quite a bit. Alabam-Ra’s new lips reached the bottom of her nose. “How will you ever get a man?”

“Same way you got dad, no doubt!” she yelped, flopping around more in the chair. At her answer, Scooter had made himself scarce, not before whispering to me that “she got lices.”

“This gentleman,” continued the doting mother, “is from Eternia City, an’ he only wants to see nice young ladies while he stays with us an’ ‘til he gets his bullet removed.”
“Eternia City?!” screamed Alabam-Ra, “But I always wanted to go there an’ live like a big movie star. Like She-Ra or Evil-Lyn or Teela...”
I groaned loudly. Everyone assumed it was because of my injury.
“What’s your name?” asked Alabam-Ra with childlike innocence.
“He-Man,” I told her.
Mountain-Man glanced up from his cooking. “Could be we’re related.”

“Actually,” I asked, pulling myself into a sitting position, “I need to know what’s happening in Eternia. Do you get any news stations on your TV?”

“Sure,” said Alabam-Ra friendily. “We get Cajun, Mountain, and Country channels. Here!”

The set clicked onto what I must assume was a Cajun channel. As Alabam-Ra jiggled the rabbit ears I could hear:

Charles en charge de nos jours et nos nuits...

She turned the knob, which would have been illegal in most civilized countries, and the news flickered on.

“Channel 7 News here. We are outside Castle Grayskull on this fine day. The Dark Lord Scare-Glow has just approached the Jawbridge of this once hallowed hall of heroes and is gesturing towards it with what seems to be a powersword. Of course, were he able to get into to Castle Grayskull, he would be able to make himself the most powerful man in the universe using its terrible secrets. Oh, look! The gate is coming down. Yes, Scare-Glow is crossing the bridge--” Click.

“I hate the news,” declared Alabam-Ra with what she hoped was a sexy pout. She had changed it to a channel playing Family Feud instead. “Don’t you think Louie Anderson was the best host?” she asked, edging over to me on the bed.

“I’m sorry, I’d better get back to looking for that bullet,” I told her.

Lazarus

2002-09-19T18:03:32Z

Man, well, that hurt. Can’t even get killed right! Okay, okay, let’s stand up. One! Two! Three! Stand!!! Whoa! Lost a lot of blood there. Am I standing? No, still lying down. One more time...stand! I’m up. Quick He-Inventory: Head? Check. Boots? Check. Powersword? Uhhhhhhh...skip that one. Fur shorts? Priceless. I’d better start walking. Which way? Frontwards looks good. That backstabbin’ glowworm almost took me out! Did you hear that, Mermista? I almost died too. Then we would have made a fine couple, wouldn’t we? I don’t believe any of that metaphysical crap Crabby tried to pull on me. You’re dead, honey. Wow, I’m walking just like a toddler. I wonder if you can buy Under-Roos anywhere these days? Dead, dead, dead with tie-dyed shirts and a van full of 40-year-old pot smoke. That dead. Actually, walking like this is kinda fun. I feel a little floaty. Look! I’m walking on the moon! I’m a Moonwalker. What a lame video game that was. I know, I know...I tried to get killed but I screwed up at that too. Or maybe Scare-Glow screwed it up. Last time I get murdered by an amateur. That toad is probably conference calling all three of his friends and telling them how he iced the most powerful man in the universe. Like hell you did, Skull-Boy! I’m right here...lost...in the Eternian wilderness...and bleeding. This bites! Would you like to sign up for a Gap card? Mermista’s dead, Doggor’s dead, Randor’s dead! Mekaneck’s dead too, but who cares? Don’t be so gloomy, He-Man. Now that’s a bad sign. Hold on, I have to break this window. Conversing with yourself is unhealthy. You’ll go blind. Ha ha, so funny I forgot to laugh. Hey, it wasn’t so bad for a guy who’s bleeding to death here. No, I guess you’re right. Yeah, yeah, well, now that we got that settled, I’ll need a name for you if we are going to keep talking. How about Mer-Man? No, he’s got a name. Hey! A bed!!! Who left this here? Anyway, you were saying? You may call me the Spirit of Grayskull. Like the cartoon horse movie? No, like the castle. I’m sorry, sir, but that’s a pretty gay name and I have to take a little nap. Bye...

“Oh, Sweet Lord, Mother, there is a man in our bed!”
“I know, Father. Please don’t let it be that Robert Downey, Jr. again!”
“He looks like Goldilocks, Paw! But with more blood...”
“Shut up, Scooter, an’ get the shovel. At least we’s gonna have some eatin’ tonight!”

Down Came the Rain

2002-09-18T03:04:25Z

“That’s it! The end!” wheezes Eldor into his empty cup. “No more He-Man. Mr. Kurtz, he dead.”
Eldor laughs a toothless laugh and sinks beneath the weight of a series of hacking coughs. Next time, you tell yourself, the closest I get to an LJ personality will be through pjammer’s bookproject.
“He’s dead,” Eldor sobs. “Dead!”

You give him a few moments to blow his nose on his sleeve and gather his wits, then you buy him another drink, marvelling amorally at how the liquor gives life to the story while destroying the storyteller. Oh well, in vino veritas.

“Where was I?” asks Eldor, rubbing his bloodshot eyes.
“He-Man had just been killed by Scare-Glow,” you remind him.
“Oh, yes...”
And the dusty wheels of Eldor’s febrile mind, now greased by a taste of the pure, turn and turn once more.

With a sigh, Mer-Man lay down his dog-eared copy of the Complete Plays of Tennessee Williams and sat up on his cot. The room of his imprisonment was reasonably furnished for a cell, as would befit the stature of its sole inhabitant. It was lifeless, though. What it needed were some goldfish.

The Prime Minister of Eternia, after kicking his feet aimlessly, got up and went over to his desk. Pulling out a new piece of parchment and choosing a quill, he set to work on a letter he now knew by heart, having written it some 800 times since his captivity had begun.

Dear He-Man,

Hey, how are you? I am good, but Scare-Glow has me locked up in the highest tower of Castle Skeletor. Please come save me. Have you heard the new Spoon album?

Hey,
Mer-Man
Prime Minister and friend

And for the 800th time he folded the paper into a little origami swan and tossed it gently out the window, where it was carried by the wind for who knows how many miles.

He thought of his situation, of how he was being forced to betray his beliefs, and of how he wished he could be strong enough to tell Scare-Glow that he would rather die than abuse his power, but he wasn’t. He was just a sniffler like they all said, except he was now Prime Minister.

“That’s it!” he cried. “I won’t sign my letters ‘Prime Minister’ anymore. I’m going to sign ‘A. Sniffler’!” He found this new resolve to be comforting and he began on another letter.

Dear Annie Lennox,

I really enjoyed your Diva album. Do you think Eurythmics will get back together?

As his quill scratched away, he heard something from outside that distracted him. It was like a chorus of angry voices. He rose and walked out onto his balcony for a better look.

Far, far down at the foot of the castle were crowds of people. So small were they from this height that they looked like little more than clusters of feeder fish.
It was a protest, realized Mer-Man with terror. Clearly these people didn’t know what they were dealing with.

End roadwork now!!!
End roadwork now!!!
End roadwork now!!!

they chanted, and their voices rose up to the very spires of Castle Skeletor. Inside the keep itself things were very still. Scare-Glow had still not returned from his excursion. Maybe, hoped Mer-Man, they will let them just leave.
Then he saw the castle’s gun emplacements turning towards the protesters.

Mer-Man surveyed the crowd. Tears streamed down his face.

End roadwork now!!!
End roadwork now!!!
End roadwork now!!!

As if in sympathy with his tears, the heavens themselves opened and a great rain fell down on Mer-Man as he stood helpless in horror.

The weather drowned out the voices and the sounds of gunfire and sizzled as it splashed on cooling gun muzzles.

Miles away, this same rain fell on a battlefield that was once a tiny city. In this place devoid of life and warmth, the life-giving rain had little effect except to cause one corpse to open its eyes and reach for a powersword that was no longer there.

A Man with a Sword

2002-09-17T04:14:56Z

Of the Massacre at Disposable, there were but a handful of survivors. One was a small girl, maybe six or seven.

She watched as the mercenaries crashed like a wave against the pitiful defenders. Scare-Glow stood behind watching and waiting as his men poured out around him like a roiling storm of blades and flame.

The first attack was fast and brutal. He-Man met the oncoming horde unarmed. He struck and kicked and grappled every man that came within his mighty reach. The child’s eyes noticed that often in the fiercer moments his hand would be drawn towards the hilt of his powersword only to be pulled away before he touched it. The enemies fell back and reformed almost instantly.

He-Man powerpunched a barbarian and appropriated the thug’s great-axe which he ran like a scythe through the ranks of men, reaping a bloody harvest. Sheer numbers allowed the marauders to push him back and gain the main square. Houses and buildings were put to the torch and bodies were trampled by retreating and advancing forces.

The men and women and even the children of Disposable fought bravely, but futilely. What had begun as the first line of defense rapidly became the rearguard for a chaotic retreat.
The wounded crawled or dragged themselves away from the carnage that surrounded He-Man. His double-headed axe had been chipped and finally shattered. But still he did not draw his sword.
The townsfolk were in a full route but He-Man stood his ground and, casting a few protective glances over his shoulder, blocked the invading army’s pursuit of them.

By now the thieves and cutthroats were terrified of him. Singlehandedly he had laid down over a quarter of their number. They backed away and circled like angry and frightened dogs.
He held no weapon and he needed none.
Then he saw her.

In all the commotion a young girl, six or seven years old, as we have said, was standing in the doorway of a burning building. She had become separated from her family and had stood as she had been instructed in the last place someone had seen her. She intended to keep on standing there until she was found and taken home.

He-Man gave the mercenaries an insolent glance, daring them to move closer to him. Then he turned his back on his foes and walked towards the little girl.
Something about her must have struck him as familiar, or maybe he was remembering something or someone from long ago, because he smiled a sad little smile and patted her on the head.

From where she was, the little girl watched a shadow rise up behind He-Man and blot out the sun itself. It was the figure of a cloaked man with a glowing skull face. She could see that in one hand he held a lance and in the other a short sword with a skull set in its guard. The sword was made of a dull black steel, and the skeleton man drove it into He-Man’s back.

He-Man’s hand slid off of her little head and he crashed down to his knees before toppling over beside her. She seemed to hear him say something, a word, a laugh, a name...

Nermtisa.

Population 113

2002-09-16T05:20:50Z

Scare-Glow’s army moved faster than Nick Nolte at a wine-tasting event. By late afternoon we were deep into the Eternian countryside, passing farms, prairie dogs and Amish people.
Scare-Glow had one very special target in mind to vent his wrath upon: “The City of Disposable, population 112”.
As the walled city popped up on the horizon, I called to Scary (we were already referring to each other with Spice Girl nicknames) and suggested that I ride on ahead and announce him formally while at the same time demanding the unconditional surrender of our enemies. He said, “Sure, Baby!” and I was off like a shot.

At this point I wasn’t sure what I was going to do. If I blew my cover with Scare-Glow, how would I be able to find and save Mer-Man? On the other hand, was I going to stand by and even help as a city of innocent people was destroyed?
I reigned in my horse before the gates.

“You there, people of Disposable! Open your gates!!!” I cried.
“No!” came the response.
“Dudes!” I added forcefully. “Open the damn gates!”
“Who are you?”
“I’m a lone hero who wishes to save you from destruction at the hands of Scare-Glow’s marauding army.”
There was silence for a long time, then: “Why are you wearing an eyepatch?”

As I explained that I was in disguise and actually the mighty He-Man, precious bits of triangle passed by. Finally they made me prove who I was by having me twirl my sword a lot, no matter how much I tried to explain that Twirly-Sword was the other guy. At least they let me in without making me transform into a 14-year-old boy.

By the time I rode into the city square, all the citizens had assembled.
“What can we do, He-Man?!” begged a village elder.
“There is only one option open to you. The women and children must be sent up to those mountains outside the city, there to hide in tunnels. Meanwhile, the men shall fight Scare-Glow’s army of paid killers and pay a dear price for the safety of their loved ones. Now, if you’ll all pick up a rake, I can show you how to become an army of farmers.”

At this there was much grumbling. Finally one voice complained, “How come the women don’t have to fight? Why do the men?”
“‘Cause that’s the manly thing to do,” I answered. I was booed.
“Sexist dog! There’s no such thing as ‘manly’! The women should fight too.” There was much discussion of this point and I glanced at my watch nervously.
“Okay,” I allowed, “the women will fight too. Now will someone get the children out of here, and everyone else get a rake.”
“No!” came the firm refusal. “Are you saying that we should die so that our snivelling brats can live?! Have you seen college tuition prices? We have to put up with enough of their Gameboy crap as it is! Give them rakes and let them fight!!!”

With that, all the adults handed farming tools to the kids and took off heels and elbows for the mountain caves.
“Well, kids,” I sighed, “this is how you hold a rake...”
They began to cry.

When the army of killer mercenaries arrived it was almost a relief. I had changed two diapers and had also been forced to repeatedly try my hand at a George W. impression without great success.

Scare-Glow surveyed the scene appreciatively. “Wow, you took the whole city! Let’s get the kids chained up and drag them back to the castle where they can be alternately sacrificed or used as slave labor.”
A little girl of about six shook her rake at Scare-Glow and he booted her in the face.

“Plans have changed,” I announced. “No one is going anywhere in slavery, and none of you are leaving here alive.”
Scare-Glow looked at me with deep hurt in his eyes. Slowly he asked, “What you talkin’ about, Willis?”
I threw my eyepatch onto the ground.
“My name is He-Man. I’m the protector of these children, and you won’t have them.”

“That’s it!” screamed Scare-Glow, dismounting. “You are out of the Secret Spice Girls Club!”

The air around him shimmered and he raised his dark lance heavenward. Lightning split the sky.
“Time to die, He-Man.”

Will Kill for Food

2002-09-15T04:12:08Z

I waited for dawn and strode up to the gates of Castle Skeletor.
“Whaddya want?” challenged the captain of the guards.
“I hear you’re hiring mercenary scum,” I replied cooly.
“Yeah. So?”
“So, I’m scum.”

The portcullis was raised and I was shown inside. The outer keep was a large affair with stables, an armoury and a Starbucks.
“They’re hirin’ over there.” My guide gestured towards a table that wouldn’t have been out of place at a blood drive. I adjusted my eye patch and approached with cagey glances to my left and right.

There was a short line of would-be villains in front of the table. As I got to the end, a whitish womanly man a black outfit with lots of silver buckles stomped past me muttering, “You know I'm bad! I'm bad - come on!!! Woo!”
I ignored him and waited for my turn.

The grizzled war veteran at the table didn’t even look up from his clipboard.
“Name?”
“Adam...the Bad.”
‘Previous work experience?”
“Killer for hire, thief, short-order cook, northern barbarian and looter.”
“Ever served with Umbi Two-Fingers?”
“Nope, never had the privilege.”
I had assumed that in a case like this honesty would be the best policy, but I saw the interviewer dude’s pen sliding towards the “application rejected” box.
“Oh wait, did you say ‘served with Umbi’?! I thought you asked if I had slept with Umbi! Ha! Yeah, I served with him all the time. Taught me everything I know. Never slept with him though, and that is somethin’ that not many can say, mind you. That Umbi! Hands like an nymphomaniacal octopus.”

The old soldier got up and went to confer with his pals. They came back in a group and formed a circle around me.
The smallest, greasiest one pointed to my eye patch and said, “Wot’s wif dat?”
“Oh, it’s only for reading,” I answered smartly.
“So, you served with Umbi?” asked a scarred melon-headed freak lippily.
“Is your mom a cheap whore?” I rejoined.
“I say we give him a florin and make him our sweet boy,” suggested one lascivious wag.

“Look, boys,” I sighed, “I think you’re wasting my time. I want 20 grand a year plus commission or I’m gonna go hire on with the Pirates of Blackwater down the street. Oh, and before I go, I’m gonna kill the lot of you for smelling so bad.”

“Heh,” laughed Melonhead, and he went for his sword. When his hand got there, he was surprised to find nothing but air. That was because an instant earlier I had snatched it from his scabbard and cut his nose off. The nose hit the floor with a sound that’s not unlike the one made by an ear hitting the floor, only this one is slightly more nasal.
I then handily dispatched Mr. Sweet Boy and amputated someone’s pegleg.

They all leapt back and cried out. More armed guards came running over to surround me.
“I think now I’ll want 25 grand a year,” I drawled.
The brigands eyed me in astonished and cowed fury.
“Done!” cried Grizzly Beard, my original interviewer. “You shall have your money. Please just don’t kill anyone else.”
“Sure,” I grinned, looking at Melonhead, who was rolling on the ground, his face in his hands. “No skin off my nose.”

Just then a big Ricola horn was blown and all the mercenaries lined up in ranks. I was pushed to the front, where I snapped to attention.
An apelike shuffling heralded the appearance of my old chum Trap-Jaw. He looked the army up and down.
“My Lord Scare-Glow will ride forth tonight with his host. His glorious vengeance shall be felt on those dogs who have tithed neither men nor money to the State Construction Project. Prepare yourselves to commit the bloodiest acts of murder and intrigue. We ride!”

Wonderful, I thought, now I can stay behind as the army pulls out and search the castle for Mer-Man at my convenience!

Just then a figure in ancient and rotted robes walked quickly out into the courtyard. His face was that of a glowing skull. He carried a dark lance that was etched with runes and crackled with a faint electricity. He passed an eye over the troops, but his gaze froze on me.

“You there,” he snarled, “The big blond one.”
I pointed at my own chest and mouthed an unbelieving “me?”
“Yes, you! You will be my standard banner. Mount up beside me!”

Scare-Glow swung himself into the saddle of his massive stone horse and I hopped onto a perky lil’ roan next to him. Trap-Jaw handed me the flag with a look of bitter resignation in his eyes.
“Jealous much?” I whispered.

Before he could answer we were off. Mer-Man was still somewhere in the halls of Castle Skeletor and I was riding in the vanguard of Scare-Glow’s army.

Homecoming

2002-09-14T04:46:07Z

It was night. A cab pulled up to the curb in Eternia’s City Centre.
The lone passenger got out, paid his fare, and examined his surroundings with a wistful sigh.
The cab disappeared into the night, leaving only a cloud of dust floating in the red brake-light haze.
Belatedly, its former occupant shouted, “Smell you later!” but when he realized no one had heard, he began to walk.

It wasn’t long before he came upon an unusual scene. The entire roadway was illuminated by hundreds of flood lights, and army of of workers were hammering down flagstones and repaving the streets.
“This is madness, if they’re getting union rates,” mumbled the weary observer.
“Hey, you there!”

A man with an outdated laser rifle rushed up to the stranger.
“Haven’t you ever seen roadwork before? Who are you?”
The recent arrival pulled the hood of his cloak tighter around his face.
“Hi! I’m Prince Adam!”
The man with the gun screamed.
‘Damn, I mean, I’m...Freddie Prinze, Jr.”
A crowd of nearby teenage girls screamed.
“Crap, I’m Adam! No first name, last name or title, okay? I’m just regular Adam. Sheesh!”

The rifleman weighed these words for a moment.
“Well, Adam, I am Fore-Man, and this is my worksite. How can we help you here?”

Adam let his hood slip down to reveal his blonde hair and hardened jawline.
“What a prodigious sculpt,” thought Fore-Man to himself in wonderment.

“Fore-Man, long have I enjoyed your grill. Now I find myself once more in Eternia City after many years absence. Some things I recognize, others seem foreign to me. Will you be my guide tonight and re-introduce me to a city I once loved?”
Adam’s words were so sincerely delivered and held such gravity that Fore-Man was naturally overcome.
“I would be honored to, Prince Adam...no, please allow me to address you that way. If you are not a prince, then you should be. Imagine, our last prince wore purple tights!”
“Lavender,” whispered Adam to the wind.

They walked together along the perimeter of the construction site.
“Why all this late-night activity?” asked Adam innocently.
“To meet the demands of our lord, Scare-Glow.”
“Scare-Glow? I had heard that Mer-Man was the enlightened ruler of Free Eternia.”
“‘Tis true, he was, and a good leader too, if a bit wet-faced. But then Scare-Glow came. He was a dark wizard from out the wastes. His army took the city and Mer-Man declared the enchanter to be God-Emperor of Eternia. The lawful government has been dissolved and replaced by his crazy glow-in-the-dark tyranny.”
“Hmmm,” was all Adam had to say.

“Now Scare-Glow has decided to show that his palace is the heart of all power, so he makes us build roads spreading out from it. A web, more like, with his Spiderness at the center!” Fore-Man spat on the ground with distaste.
“Scare-Glow’s palace?”
“Yes, we are almost to it.”

The two men walked on in silence, one lost in his own thoughts, the other in a half-remembered city.
Suddenly out of the night before them loomed a huge tower and keep. It was built out of faintly luminescent stones and seemed to throb in the near-light of the lamps.
“Castle Skeletor!” announced Fore-Man gloomily. “One day it was the City Tennis Courts, and the next an evil palace had been thrown down on the spot, as if by magic or the sweaty hand of a dark god!”

Adam could see that all around Castle Skeletor were more construction teams, all building a maze of interconnecting roads which spread like rot from the center.
“The work is progressing quickly.”
Fore-Man looked hard at Adam. “And so it needs to. Every day Scare-Glow will execute an honest Eternian lad or lass ‘til its finished.”

“Is there no hope of salvation?” Beneath his cloak Adam’s fingers played on the hilt of his sword (no, not in that way).
“No, my friend, no salvation. There are no heroes left in Eternia.”

The two had made it as close as they could to the tainted walls of the castle. They approached some workers at a bonfire and warmed theie hands against the chill night air.
“Who are all those men who move in and out of the castle gate?”
Fore-Man’s eyes blazed. “Scum! Interlopers and mercenaries from the north. More arrive with each day. Some are still vengeful after the war with Randor that laid them low, others live only for destruction and micro-brew beers. They are the lamest of the lame!!!”
“Hmmmm,” Adam hummed again. “I think I’d like to give that castle a closer look.”
The workers around the fire couldn’t help but hear his intention, and scrutinized his face in shocked wonder. He seemed calm, perhaps even bored.

“No, Prince Adam, I’m afraid that you cannot do. No goodly people enter...or leave Castle Skeletor. Any attempt is met with death or worse. Stay here with me! You are a sturdy young man, you could do good work on the roads. Forget Castle Skeletor, it can only bring doom to you.”

“You were wrong earlier, Fore-Man. As long as I live, Eternia will not be without a hero.”
“As long as you live,” repeated Fore-Man dumbly.
Prince Adam’s eyes burned with reflected firelight.

Scare-Glow peered down from the highest window of Castle Skeletor’s tower and stared fixedly at a dot of a man who was warming his hands and conversing with workers by a bonfire.
“So!” he breathed. “You’ve come.”

Mind the Gap

2002-09-13T04:48:36Z

“Good morning, Courtney!”
“Morning, He-Man!”
“Morning, Brittney!”
‘Hey, He-Man!”

I put on my Gap name pin and got ready to punch in.
“Hi, He-Man!”
“Uh, yeah, Chad. Hi.”
“Big day today, right, He?” asked Chad the manager, punching my arm.
“That’s right!” I answered, diplomatically omitting the “you Feldman-faced son of a bitch!!!”
I got down to folding XXL clearance shirts.

The repetitive nature of my work allowed me to think on the events of yesterday, of Beast-Man’s and Orko’s appeal for help. And there was that new guy too, but he struck me as a bit of a fancy-pants.
Sometimes I did kind of miss being a superhero. I wasn’t allowed to powerpunch customers, no matter how lame they got or how many pairs of capris they tried on.
The job was boring but it paid, and maybe it was the boring bit that was some of the appeal. No one was relying on me for anything more than a tobacco-colored suede jacket in size XS. Nobody died at the Gap. Well, not often.
But, you know, sometimes it would be nice to have a little action again.

“He-Man?”
“Yes, Chad?” Chad was nervously twisting the nasty strands of his sophomore-year goatee.
“There is a customer who wishes to speak to you.” In a whisper he added, “He’s real weird, try and sign him up for a Gap card.”

With a sigh, I got up off the floor and sauntered my way towards the cash registers. My customer was there, examining a pair of loose-fit carpenter pants.
“Hi! He-Man here. Can I help you?” I could tell even from this distance that the pants weren’t his size. At first I thought he might be buying them as a gift, but who would give somebody discount carpenter pants besides a mom, and he wasn’t no mom.
“Help me?” questioned the weird pants non-mom guy in an electronic voice. “Help me by dying!”
He threw the pants at me and I dodged their wide leg just in time as he swung a dangerous axe-arm at my head.
‘Whoa, you crazy machine man! What gives?”

The evil wacky robot monster took a second swipe at me and laughed that eerie Cher-vocorder song laugh again.
“Don’t you recognize your old friend Roboto?” He sneered mechanically.
“No,” I answered with feigned nonchalance as I ducked behind a giant Dennis Hopper poster.

“Have you forgotten me, then?” demanded the wild metallic hatchet man. “I, who have not forgotten you! I, whose life you destroyed. Have you forgotten my father...The Ballerina!”
“Ah, shi--”
The axe went right through Dennis’s Blue Velvet-sniffing nose. I grabbed it and, using my super strength, tore the damn thing off Roboto’s body.

Before I could so much as sing, “I’ve got your arm!” Roboto had switched weapons and was firing machine gun rounds from his stump.

“My father was a great scientist,” he moaned, blowing all my shirt displays to hell. “A genius!!! And his only weakness was he enjoyed tap-dancing! Is there anything wrong with that?!!!”

I dove across the floor and threw a fleecy-collared trucker jacket into the air. The innocent garment exploded as a hail of bullets streaked the air.

“But you saw him dancing, didn’t you, He-Man! You saw that great man doing a little soft shoe, and you told everyone! You told them he liked ballet! You told everyone at school that my father was a great gay ballerina, and was going to be a fairy princess.”
Roboto collapsed and held his face in his hands.
I took the time to wonder how people like this always seem to find me.

From across the street at a cafe, Beast-Man commented to Orko, “Looks like the guy from Daft Punk found He-Man.”
“Who? Guy-Man?”
“Yeah, what a dumb name.”

I worm-crawled across the floor and into the back room. Roboto had started up with his laser arm, and was making his way towards the Baby Gap. A collective cry went up from the mothers, toddlers, and anorexic girls who were shopping there. I had to stop him.

I slipped my bag off the shelf, accidentally spilling Courtney’s double latte on my shirt.
My unique powersword landed with a thud on the floor. I stroked its hilt with my hand.
Take me! Use me! Kill with me!!!
I heard Roboto laughing. I pushed the bloodthirsty sword away, dusted myself self off and walked back out onto the sales floor.

“Roboto!”
“He-Man! Ready to die?”
“Yes.” Roboto was taken aback. His gears whirred loudly in shock. “First though, I want to tell you why I said those things about your father.”
I slowly walked closer to him. His eyes flashed redly.
“I’m listening.”
“You’re right, I saw him dance. He was amazing! I had never seen anything like it. I never knew anyone could move like that. I was jealous!”
“What?!”
“I hated myself for my clumsiness, for my lack of grace. I hated myself and... I hated him. He was too perfect.”
A wistful smile lit up Roboto’s LED display.
“He was the best dancer I had ever seen. He was...”
I was within 4 feet of Roboto.
“He was...”
“Yes?”
“Completely and savagely flaming!!!”

My first powerpunch landed just above his techno-belt. I followed with an uppercut that lifted him into the air, and then, with all the grace of Roboto’s ballerina dad, I spun on the heel of my motorcycle boot and landed a perfect roundhouse kick to the side of his head.

Roboto sailed through the air and exited the Gap shatteringly by way of the front window.
“Take that, son of Twinkletoes.”

I strode to the back room, picked up my stuff and my sword, and tossed my name pin down on the counter.
“What are you doing?” wailed Chad, coming out from under a ribbed sweater display.
“I’m He-Man, the most powerful man in the universe, Chad...and I quit!”

As I left the Gap, I thanked God for direct deposit, kicked Roboto twice in the CPU, and hailed myself a cab.

“Where to, pal?”
“Eternia City, and step on it!”

Visiting Day

2002-09-12T02:27:02Z

Today was my day off. I had planned on going down to Eternian Comics and maybe picking up some new 7’’s. I had finished dressing and was making my lunch when there was a knock at the door.

I scooped up my laser pistol and tiptoed towards the door. Pressing myself up against the wall, I asked, “Quien es?”
“Hayley Mills,” came a familiar voice.

I threw open the door, “Beast-Man!” It was he. My furry chum laughed and I saw Orko and another gentleman over his shoulder.
“Come in, come in. I see you’ve brought a friend.”
“Oh,” said Orko with a backward glance, “this is just He-Ro. He’s a wuss.”

“Hi! I’m He-Ro, the most powerful man in the universe,” mumbled the blushing young man as he offered me he hand.
“He-Man here. Pleased to meet you, He-Ro. Most powerful man? That’s a lot to live up to.”
He-Ro blushed again and stared at his own golden boots.

“Never mind him, He-Man,” interrupted Beast-Man, “he’s just pissy ‘cause he screwed up his job and Mer-Man’s been kidnapped. What the hell are you wearing, anyway?”
“Gap jeans. Don’t you like them? What do you mean Mer-Man was kidnapped? This isn’t like the time Orko told him he was a crybaby and he hid in the cupboard for three days.”
“No, he’s kidnapped,” stated Orko firmly.

It was then that I took a quick glance at my kitchen and only just in time.
“Damn, my gorditas are burning!”
“Whoa!” sympathized He-Ro.
As I ran to try and salvage my lunch, I saw Beast-Man and Orko exchange glances and could sear I saw Beast-Man mouth the word “gay”.

As I went about my cooking, I asked them to fill me in on the details of Mer-Man’s abduction.

“Well, a glowing skeleton that calls himself Scare-Glow showed up, beat the crap outta He-Ro, and stole Mer-Man and the magic picture book we had just found.”
“Amazing. Anyone want some gorditas? They’re good!”

“No thanks. We need you to come save Mer-Man and murder Scare-Glow like in the old days,” said Orko, finally coming to the point.

I smiled sadly. “Well, I’m sorry to burst your bubbles, but I’m not a superhero anymore. I’ve got a job - I sell trendy clothes in a boutique. He-Ro seems to have the situation under control. He may be a bit green, but give him time.”

He-Ro obviously wanted to make a comment but Beast-Man cut him off.
“He-Doofus here couldn’t even take out Webstor, let alone this skeleton dude. He’s a Lame-R!”

“OMG!” exclaimed Orko. “Are you still listening to the Strokes?” he asked, pointing to a concert poster on my wall.
“Yeah, so?”
“So?!!! They just happen to be soooo six months ago!”
“Yeah,” agreed Beast-Man, “you should be listening to some Black Rebel Motorcycle Club!”
“Or The Vines,” Orko suggested swarmily.
“I like Shakira,” admitted He-Ro, shaking his hips in a manner that left his lifestyle choices open to question.

By now I was a tad annoyed and decided that I would be happier if my friends just left me to my books and my albums and my lunch.
“Look, guys, I can’t help you with Mer-Man. I’m not a superhero anymore. I just work at the Gap. I sell boot-cut jeans!”

“We know who you are, He-Man. Even if you’ve forgotten. Anyway, this belongs to you.” Beast-Man reached into his bag and pulled out my powersword.

As I held the blade in my hands they started heading for the door.
“We need an answer by tomorrow!” warned Orko.
“How will I reach you guys?” I demanded. “Where are you staying?”
“That’s for us to know and you to find out,” answered Beast-Man cheekily.

As the door closed behind them, I could hear He-Ro say, “I thought you told me he was a dick?”
I was alone again, but I had my powersword. I thought about sliding it out of the scabbard but I decided to wait. There would be more than enough time for that later. First I had to eat my gorditas...and think.
I accomplished both in silence.

I never took my eyes off the sword.

Red Letter Day

2002-09-11T02:35:38Z

Dear Mermista,

How are things up in space with Crabby? You may have heard that I gave up the whole superhero-of-Eternia thing. In the end it just seemed to me that people could get by without me and my fur shorts. With Skeletor and Randor gone, what did they need protection from?

I waved goodnight to the other guys at the store and started on my walk to the train station.

Since I left Eternia I’ve had a lot to think about. I’ve been trying to improve myself, and not just my scores for PS2 games! I watch that show with the talking aardvark sometimes. He has inspired me to read more. Right now I am reading a book called The House at Pooh Corner.

Sometimes I get a little lonely. I haven’t seen any of my old friends in months. I spend most of my time working or reading my book or listening to my records. Sometimes I get sad and miss you or Mer-Man and Beast-Man and stuff but it’s never too bad.

The train keeps ringing its little bell at me ‘cause I’m standing inside the yellow line that you aren’t supposed to stand in. In the end it gives up and just barrels past me, as I rock on my heels, blasting me with the warm air caught in its wake. The doors open and I get on.

A strange thing happened the other day. I was walking out of my apartment when a small ball of red string rolled past me.
It was wobbling down the sidewalk right in front of my building! Behind it the ball left a small trail of string, so I could see that it had already come at least a block. I followed the ball, wondering where it was going. We got to an intersection and the ball gradually slowed down, let a car pass, then rolled right down the curb ramp. It crossed the street and bounced up onto the other side.
By this point I was completely fascinated by it. The red ball seemed to know where it was going. We took a left at the next intersection and continued for another two blocks, leaving behind us the string as a Theseus style marker.
Suddenly the ball gave one more quick roll and disappeared. It happened so quickly my eyes followed the route it would have taken for a few feet before realizing the ball was no longer there. Instead there was just the line of string. The ball had unwound itself.
I stared at the string for a long time. There was no way for me to know where it had been going or whether or not it had gotten there. I could only see where it had been.

I always liked this escalator. It’s one of the ones where when you reach the middle the people going in the opposite direction look like they are leaning really far forward or really far back. I always laugh when I see people like that and sometimes I sketch it at home and give the people little ski poles.

Another block and I was at my apartment building door, turning the key in the lock.
“Welcome back, He-Man,” I greeted myself.

Sometimes I think of that little ball of string. I hope you are okay with Crabby. I never wanted you to get hurt.
I’m sorry if I sound down tonight. It’s just been one of those days. Maybe I’ll call Orko or something...but those guys are probably doing fine without me. I’m gonna read now. I’ll write you again later.

I put the letter I had been working on all day into a little drawer in my desk that I could lock.

Bye, Mermista.

Love,

~~He-Man, the most pow~~
just plain He-Man

P.S. Tomorrow will be funnier, I promise. I’ve just got a feeling that things are going to turn around soon.

Snatched

2002-09-10T03:05:07Z

“So he told me that it was in my cubbyhole but when I checked the cubbyhole nothing was there. Some bastard must have swiped it...”
“Wow, Beast-Guy, that’s rad!” approved He-Ro, not paying a bit of attention. “Just one more tumbler to go...” Blue light from He-Ro’s hand illuminated the lock. Finally, with a satisfying click, the heavy door swung open as if by magic.

A strong gust of air blew out from the cavernous maw now open before us. It stank of decay and sin and malevolence.
“I smell sex and candy!” observed Beast-Man. He and I followed He-Ro into the tunnel.

“So,” mulled He-Ro, “this is where King Randor kept all his good stuff, eh? Anyone wanna stick around after we find the Tome and see if we can find anything for eBay?”
“Not me,” answered Beast-Man as he checked the levels on his laser carbine. “Knowing Randor, we’d prolly find flesh-eating maggot monsters with cherub faces! He was weird that way.”
“We came for the book,” I grunted. “Leave the rest.”
I thought I heard He-Ro say “Blow me,” but it was lost in the wind.

”My Dark Lord, what do you see in your magic chalice?” Trap-Jaw lay prostrate on the floor averting his eyes from his master’s glowing aura.
He chanced to look up when he heard a sharp hiss of breath and a dry laugh.
“They have almost reached the book! Yes, find it my little heroes, and return it to its rightful owner...Trap-Jaw, prepare my horse. I will be with Evil-Lyn.”
A booted foot and tattered robes covered in dust and mold swept by Trap-Jaw’s face as he pressed it against the damp flagstones.
“If on your return, Snake Mountain is a-rockin’, don’t come a-knockin’.”
“Yes, my lord.”

We were deep into the subterranean tunnels which ran beneath the old palace. Many turnings had collapsed and we followed a glowing orb that He-Ro had enchanted to guide the way to the Tome.
“I would have thought this place would be better defended,” He-Ro commented prematurely.
Just then bright red electric eyes flickered to life in the shadows. There was a whir of machines and all hell broke loose.
“Killer robots!” screamed Beast-Man, firing wildly into the blackness. Beam weapons answered his salvo and buzz-saw blades began to streak through the air. Eight killer robots with electro-whips blocked our way.
“Duck and cover!!!” called He-Ro. He reached into a pouch at his belt and through a handful of small pellets at the robots.
There was a bright flash and a blinding explosion. Servos and circuit boards rained down upon us. Beast-Man kept shooting the melted automatons.
“Get some! Get some!!!”

”Your horse is ready, my lord.”
“Good work.” The dark figure in its tattered robes walked brusquely down the flagstones. He held a lance covered in vile runes up to the sky and his sleeve slipped down to reveal glowing bones.
“Tonight, Eternia, you will drink a bitter draught!”
Given strength by his master’s words, Trap-Jaw added, “Yeah, Eternia, you can suck it!”
The skeletal lord reached his horse, made of living stone, in a few long strides. With a terrible cry he swung himself up into the saddle and, laughing, galloped off into the dusky horizon.

“Here’s a chest!”
We had finally found a large box sealed with Randor’s own insignia and several large locks. The gold bands which held it together and the craftsmanship of the item showed it was used for no mean purpose.
“I bet this is where he put his most valued treasures!” Saliva dripped from Beast-Man’s fangs.
He-Ro chanted a short spell and the lid slowly opened.
“Oh my.....oh, God! That is just...oh, God!!!”
“WTF!”
“That’s disgusting! Close it!”

Beast-Man slammed the chest shut with the butt of his rifle. The action must have awoken some depraved device inside, because the chest began to hum and vibrate across the floor.
“I’m gonna hurl.”

The dread creature of bone and evil crossed the broken plains an army of monsters and mercenaries at his back. His pennant of a bass with a hook in its mouth flapped ominously in the wind behind him. As he drove his enchanted steed onward, he gnashed his teeth and tightened a grip on his lance.
He blew down through the mountain passes like a storm living death and blood and fire and heartache behind him...heartache forever linked to the name Scare-Glow.

He-Ro and Beast-Man burst into the courtyard together, laughing drunkenly. Mer-Man and his advisors, Orko included, wandered out to see what the commotion was about.
“He-Ro, you’ve returned! What news?” asked the amazed Prime Minister.

“Well, we found some of these.” He reached into his rucksack and withdrew a large maggot with the face of a two year old.
“They make good eating,” advised Beast-Man.
“And,” He-Ro continued, “this!!!”

He held the Tome of Knowledge above his head.
Great tears of wonderment sprang to Mer-Man’s eyes.
“Now we can finally bring peace to Eternia!” he cried in triumph.

“The peace of the dead!” came a voice from the door. All heads turned to the threshold, where now stood a robed figure, rags blowing about his body in the light breeze. He had no skin on his face or hands and his eyes burned with an unholy light. All around him the air shimmered and power radiated from his person.

“Skele--” began Mer-Man.
“Scare-Glow!” screamed the fiend, froth spitting from his lipless mouth.
The monstrosity raised his bony hand and brought the end of his lance down with a thundering crack onto the marble stones of the courtyard.
Men fell down wailing and writhing in pain. The figure pointed at He-Ro.
“Give me the book.”

“Don’t you have an Alice Cooper concert to go to or something?” growled He-Ro, putting up a strong front. He tossed the book to Mer-Man and raised an eyebrow.
Scare-Glow’s troop of mercenaries rushed into the courtyards shouting great battle cries.
He-Ro held out his hands and, gritting his teeth, bellowed at them. From out his hands grew a translucent bear almost twenty feet tall. It roared at the crowd of scum and, as they broke formation to escape its fury, it began to lay into them, swinging its powerful paws and sending henchman spiraling through the air.

Sweat poured down He-Ro’s face. His eyes lost focus. The bear grew larger and more powerful. All those who stood against it were crushed beneath its gigantic feet or met a sloppy end in its betoothed jaws.

Scare-Glow watched the massacre of his men with a casual ease. He let out a hollow laugh and raised his lance towards He-Ro’s ursine manifestation. From the tip of his evil weapon sprang a great black serpent.
The two magical beasts collided, the serpent wrapping its coils around the bear, striking at the confused creature’s face with its red dripping fans. The bear tried to ward off the poisonous attack and grappled with the serpent about its neck.
Suddenly there was a scream and He-Ro staggered backwards, falling to the ground in exhaustion. The bear disappeared almost immediately.

Mer-Man yelped as the giant magical snake swiftly slithered its coils around his shoulders and began to squeeze. At a nod from Scare-Glow, the nightmaric creature sprouted wings and began to fly off, Mer-Man and the Tome of Knowledge firmly in its clutches.
As he disappeared into the night sky, Mer-Man begged his friends, “Feed my Sea Monkeys while I’m gone!!!”

He-Ro raised himself to his knees and began to whisper to himself. Scare-Glow waved the lance almost imperceptibly in his direction and the superhero was cast violently against the stone wall, the life and air forced out of him.

Scare-Glow turned on his heel and, with a laugh that was like a curse, walked to his waiting horse. Eternia City was in flames.

When he was gone, Orko and Beast-Man ran over to He-Ro. He was unconscious.
“What are we going to do?” asked Beast-Man.
“About He-Ro?” wondered Orko.
“No, about Mer-Man’s Sea Monkeys.”
“Oh, don’t worry about them. They died months ago. I just poured some Parmesan cheese into the bowl. Fools him every time.”

He-Ro let out a groan. Creeping out of my hiding place, I approached them.
“I think it is time you found the owner of this.” I held out the battered and sheathed powersword.
“My cousin had one just like that,” volunteered Beast-Man.

Tomorrow: The Return of He-Man!!!

The Next Most Powerful Man In the Universe

2002-09-08T19:22:11Z

"Come again?" inquired Beast-Man prettily.
"He-Ro," proclaimed the young man, though now with some doubt, "the most powerful man in the universe."

Mer-Man's eyes grew large. "But I thought He-Man was--"
Orko cut him off with an impatient gesture of his few-fingered hand. "The Prime Minister will remember that He-Man is no longer serving Eternia. Consequently, we decided to hire a new superhero. You were just looking at the file a moment ago."
Mer-Man began to rummage through his desk.
"It's the one with the Snorks," sighed Orko.
"Two-faced bitch," muttered Beast-Man under his breath. Orko blushed facelessly.
"Here it is!" cried Mer-Man in delight, happily scanning the Snork letterhead. "Hmm..." he pondered. "He-Ro, do you like Snorks?"
"Wow, pretty liberal! I guess if you're cutting some lines, I wouldn't mind one or two."
Mer-Man regarded him in stunned silence.

"So what makes you such a hero?"
"Well, Beast-Guy," answered He-Ro, "I did go to superhero training school."
"It's true," admitted Mer-Man, sliding a photograph of impish blond-haired children at play out from the Snork folder. Beast-Man snatched it from his hand.
"Looks like a Hitler Youth picnic."
He-Ro shrugged his shoulders expressively.
"How did you get to be the most powerful man in the universe anyway, Heinrich?"
"Yeah," chimed in Mer-Man eagerly, "do you powerpunch, kick ass or sell Sexual Chocolate?"
He-Ro propped his gold-plated boots up on the desk. "Well, I do a little martial arts, some small arms stuff, and magic."
"Oh, Magic: the Gathering?!" asked Orko.
"No, like this." He-Ro extended his hand towards Orko and whispered an ancient word of power. Suddenly, a bolt of flame burst from his fingertips and torched the top of Orko's hat.

As the little blue freak screamed in terror and tried to extinguish his chimney-like headwear, Beast-Man and Mer-Man looked on appreciatively.
"You're hired!"

Mer-Man got up and walked past the remains of Orko's smoldering hat. "Here is the unique powersword of He---"
Beast-Man coughed.
"--of He-Ro, the most powerful man in the universe."
He-Ro looked at the sword, still wrapped in its antique scabbard. "Actually, I don't really do the whole sword part of the sorcery thing. I've got a wand already." At this, he brandished a wand with a feathery tongue. "Swords are too old-school for me."
"Like Coolio."

"One last thing," finalized Mer-Man as He-Ro signed the at-will employment contract, "do you have a LiveJournal?"
"Um, no, but I have a uJournal."
To conceal their laughter, Beast-Man, Mer-Man and Orko pretended to be busily engaged in playing invisible kazoos.

Yes, Prime Minister

2002-09-07T03:36:46Z

I looked down at the dossier Orko had just handed me. It was printed on my favorite Snork stationery.
“Beast-Man, do you like Snorks?” I asked.
“Sink me, what’s a Snork?” he yawned, letting the monocle drop from his weary eye. He had started wearing a monocle when I promoted him to Minister of Propaganda.
“You know, Snorks. I love them. The ones with the tubes coming out the top of their heads. Snorks. Like Smurfs, but Snorks.”
“No,” he decided, “I hate them.”
I looked back to the stationery, but seeing the happy Snorks on it only made me feel sad. It’s not easy being Prime Minister of Eternia.

“What’s this for again?” I asked Orko. I get so many reports these days that I prefer not to read them. Sometimes I look at the pictures, but only when there are nice pictures. It would be silly to look at sad pictures. I put the Snorks in a drawer.

“That is all about our new superhero. He’s in the waiting room if you want to meet him,” advised Orko, who was absentmindedly stamping “Deceased/Return to Sender” on a few files.
“Who else do I have to see today?”
Orko checked the closed circuit TV monitor.
“Oh, that’s right. There is a guy out there. Old with a hood and big white beard. Says he has important news about the fate of Eternia. I told him to fill out an appeal sheet, then I gave him one of the citizenship applications instead. Let’s see how long it takes him to figure it out.”
“Fate of Eternia,” I choked. “Wears a hood, big white beard--”
“Must be Santa! Must be Santa! Must be Santa! Santa Claus!!!” sang Beast-Man.
“Send him in,” I ordered.

Orko returned shortly with a slightly portly man who did indeed have a giant white beard and dark hood.
“Hey, I’m Mer-Man, the Prime Minister. You’ve met Orko and this is Beast-Man, recently elevated to the title Le Comte de Morcerf.”
“At your service, sir,” charmed Beast-Man/Morcerf.

“Thank you for your warm welcome, Minister, I’m sure I don’t deserve it, but I do have important news for you...but I have not yet introduced myself. I am Eldor, Keeper of Legends and Lore.”

“Never heard of you,” voiced Orko, again stamping files.
“Well, until the glorious revolution I was imprisoned by the evil Randor and forced to live in a dungeon.”
“Alas!” I cried, and my heart wept for the man.
Beast-Man whispered to me conspiratorily, “He looks awful fat for prison life. Don’t trust him. I’ve seen an episode or two of ‘Oz’.” He then gave me a significant look and tugged his ear twice.

“Speak freely, sir, these gentlemen are my most trusted advisors. Anything I know, they know.”
Orko snorted.

“It is like this, Prime Minister. Before my unjust imprisonment, I was sent on a fact-finding mission by the Council of Elders (which my lords will remember was dissolved by King Randor during the Corn Crisis). I was to search out an ancient artifact of power, the Tome of Knowledge, wherein was recorded the entire history of Eternia, past, present and future, albeit written in code and allegory.
“As soon as I returned to the city with this noble instrument, I was seized by Randor’s elite Deathhead Commandos and flung into the darkest oubliette. I was not killed, I supposed at the time that I would be tortured for further information, but I was left alone and in time completely forgotten...”

“I am moved, Monsieur, but pray how does this effect the fate of Eternia today?” I asked, dabbing away tears with the end of my cravat.

“Ah, well, I am a curious man by nature, I need to be what with my job as Keeper of Legend and Lore--”
“Naturally,” agreed Beast-Man charitably.
“The truth is, my lords, I peeked.”
A hush fell over the room.

“I read one page of the book. Though I did not understand it then, the page I read foretold the fall of Randor and his tyranny, but...”
“Yes?”
“It spoke of an even greater peril that would effect the entire planet of Eternia. A peril that could only be averted by one man - the most powerful man in the universe!”

At these words my heart grew heavier than it had in months. My eyes fell upon a sword still tied in its scabbard that hung above my fire place. I had heard nothing from my friend He-Man since I had seen him row into the fog on that fateful morning. Some reports I had received claimed he was dead, others said simply he worked at a Radio Shack.

“Prime Minister,” continued Eldor, oblivious to the effect his words had had on me, “if we can recover the Tome, then I can study it. We can prepare ourselves for the event and defeat it...”
“C’est impossible!” lamented Beast-Man. “There is no longer a most powerful man in this universe! Oh sad day, to meet my doom when I have only recently become a count!”

“Excuse me,” came a voice from the door, “I couldn’t help but overhear because I was eavesdropping, but I think I can solve your problem.”

Our collective mouth dropped. The speaker was a youngish man with blond hair and striking features. He was tall and sturdily-built with a sly grin and tusseled blond hair. He wore as ornament a gold headband, chestplate and boots. Behind him flowed a long red cape.

“Hi! I’m He-Ro, the most powerful man in the universe.”