The Annoyingly Amazing Lisa: Thunderbolt Trickster! [fic]

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Postby Alice Macher » Sun Aug 22, 2010 5:32 pm

CREEPY BARITONE: Oh, won't you come with me,
Strike up the band?
Won't you form a club of glee,
Best in the la-a-a-a-and?
Show choir dreamla-a-a-a-and

LISA: C-c-ourage, faithful sidekicks. We're a-almost there.

(They enter a chamber in which a man, dressed in tuxedo, black velvet cloak, broad-brimmed black hat and half-mask, plays the organ by candleabrum light.)

MAN (continuing to play): Ah! It seems I have guests. Let me see...Mses. Winkelmeyer, Levac and D'Amour, unless I miss my guess. Do sit down.

PENNY: Your sounds familiar somehow, but--hey, how'd you know our names?

MAN: Oho-ho! My dear Ms. Levac, from this my chamber I know all who pass through the hallowed halls above.

AGGIE: But how? Who are you?

MAN: Who am I? I am your angel of music. I make the dumb sing, the lame dance.

AGGIE: Er, not to be "that girl," but the proper terms are "speech-impaired" and "disabled."

MAN: SILENCE! (Organ chord) I put the "muse" in music, the "show" in show choir, the--

PENNY: Yes, but who are you?

MAN: None other than the Phantom of Fandom, specifically music fandom. And it is my musical gift, together with this electromagnetic/alchemical organ, which shall inspire the formation of the greatest glee club ever to--

LISA: F*** this s***. (Steps forward and pulls off his mask. All three girls gasp loudly.)

AGGIE: It's you! Our vocal music teacher from freshman year, Mr. Vivace.

PENNY: We--we all thought you died, when that badly-wired organ you tried out in the basement exploded.

MR. VIVACE: No, not I. The force of the explosion propelled me downward, into the chamber you now stand in. I subsisted for two years on mice and boiled, filtered drainwater, whilst I constructed this wonder of magic and technology to stimulate you potential Liza Minellis and Fred Astaires to sing! and! dance!

LISA: But why? Why manipulate us like that, against our will?

MR. VIVACE (sighing): I--I meant no harm. Truly. It's just...when I was vocal music teacher, it was my dream to form a glee club that would sweep the sectionals, the regionals, perhaps--dare I dream?--the nationals. But to my everlasting sorrow, not one student signed up.

PENNY: So to drum up interest in show choir, you...nearly killed yourself and spent two years setting up this creepy CIA-like operation?

MR. VIVACE: Well, now, Ms. Levac; I give you my word that the accident was entirely--accidental. But a happy accident it was, for once I regained my wits and mobility I at last had the solitude and leisure to--

LISA: Yeah yeah, we get it. But Mr. Vivace--sir--didn't you realize that your... electromagnetic/alcapone thingie was causing students to spill out their private feelings, desires and fears in front of the whole school?

MR. VIVACE: I--can this be true?

AGGIE: I'm afraid so. For example, a number of us, female and male, ended up outing ourselves and our relationships, and this isn't exactly the most gay-friendly school in the state. And that's not all: an, er, friend of Duane involuntarily sang him an aria about how he had to accept Christ like yesterday, while insulting his and every other religion but hers, and right in the middle of Multicultural Day assembly, too. Xena sang a power ballad, with ballet accompaniment, about what "Mr. Hubbard" said was wrong with our society. Giuliani had to call in a SWAT team just to protect her from Brandi, Samantha and other ticked-off students. Lunchlady Helga nearly killed a group of students, and no, not with her cooking. It wasn't until the three of us gave out these copper-foil hats to everyone that order was restored.

MR. VIVACE: Oh. Oh my. What have I done? (Slumps forward on the keyboard and sobs.) My beloved Muses Euterpe and Terpsichore--


AGGIE: Music and dance.

MR. VIVACE: --it was ever my intention to harness them for glory and harmony, not shame and discord. O Apollo Muse-Leader, forgive me! (Sobs some more.)

LISA (patting him on the back): Aww. There, there, Mr. Vivace. It'll be okay. We'll get you the help you need (and you will need a buttload of it, apparently). Come with us.

MR. VIVACE (rising slowly to his feet, addressing the organ): You alone did bring such joy to me
It's over now, the music... of... the... gleeeeeee

(He smashes the organ.)


A few minutes later, in front of the school, as MR. VIVACE goes off in an ambulance

AGGIE: Poor Mr. V. All he wanted was to help us make music.

PENNY: Yeah well, there's a time and place for everything, I guess.

AGGIE: True. Hey, where'd Lisa go?

PENNY: She said something about having to settle up with the copper-foil jobber.

AGGIE: Ah. (Beat.) Say Pen, before we head home...well, even though we're no longer being mind-controlled--

PENNY: Which means we can take off these fugly hats?

AGGIE: Huh? Yeah. Anyway, there's still something I wanted to tell you. In song. *Ahem*
No more talk of glee club, forget the messed-up teach
You're safe; nothing can harm you, no mind control alarm you
Even I won't try converting you with grandil'quent speech
Won't try to modify you, won't try to hippify you

Say you'll share with me one vegan dinner,
And I'll watch with you one O'Reilly episode
Say we'll meet halfway, we'll strike a balance
Give and take can even be fun, too
That's all I ask of you

PENNY (taking her hand): I'll try wearing pleather, if you'll try some L'Oreal
Take turns, it ain't so painful; hell, it just might be gainful
I'll protest old-growth logging, if you'll attend my deb'tante ball
Won't try to neo-con you, to Madoff or Enron you

BOTH: Say we'll share each other's mag subscriptions
From Mother Jones to National Review
Say you'll compromise, and I'll do likewise
Give and take can even be fun, too
{Libby | Hippie}, that's all I ask of you

Say we'll listen to each other's talk radio
Swapping clothes and maybe even 'dos
Share your beliefs with me, no holding back now
Living life in stereo, yes it's true
Agenny, that's all...I...ask...of... youuuuuuuuu!

Last edited by Alice Macher on Tue Aug 24, 2010 1:21 pm, edited 1 time in total.
"Life doesn't wait forever." --Lisa Winklemeyer
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Postby Shadrach » Sun Aug 22, 2010 10:38 pm

...Wow. That was epic.

And hilarious. :lol: Go, Alice!
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Postby Alice Macher » Mon Aug 23, 2010 2:24 am

"Epic" is one way of putting it, yeah. Another is "exhausting."

But thanks! <3
"Life doesn't wait forever." --Lisa Winklemeyer
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Postby L'HommeQuiRit » Mon Aug 23, 2010 9:03 am

*Much applause and standing ovation*
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Postby L'HommeQuiRit » Mon Aug 23, 2010 5:02 pm

One more thing: the song everyone sings in English class in "Act One," what musical is it from?
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Postby Alice Macher » Mon Aug 23, 2010 6:58 pm

It's "I'd Do Anything" from Oliver!, based on Oliver Twist. You may have heard it sampled in Jay-Z's "Anything."
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Postby Alice Macher » Mon Sep 13, 2010 4:01 pm

Issue #8

Greetings, true deceivers! "All-Right" Alice Macher here, ready to lay on yez a tale of the Annoyingly Amazing Thunderbolt Trickster like you've never seen her before. "Nu, schmegeggie," you may ask, "so what's so different about this one?" Lo, I shall answer, pilgrim: because this tale comes from an alternate universe--Not a dream! Not a hoax! Not an imaginary story! Not a "What-if!"--in which our ever-lovin' Lisa is part of the super quippin' quartet, yclept the Fangasm Four! That's right, the tantalizing team-up of derring-do, 'dolescent do-gooders, originally created by yours truly, "All-Right" Alice, and definitely not with any input from artist Jack Kurveball, now with (*shudder*) another publisher. (Always remember, true deceivers: "Make Mine Macher!®" Lisa in excelsis!) Nu, enough already, amigos; sit back and enjoy this sure-to-be epic tale of epic epicness...


There is a place where the heroes of renown gather. Where strategies are plotted, decisions made, dice cast. That place is the D'Amours' basement rec room.

"Okay, guys," said Lisa, (the Thunderbolt Trickster, with the proportional strength and speed of lightning and the proportional trickiness of a coyote). "You find yourselves in a dark cavern beneath the earth. To your left is a gold pillar, to your right a silver pillar. In between them stands an imposing, sky-blue cloaked hermit who bids you choose between them. Aggie, your warrior-bard character rolled highest, so you do the honours."

"I piiiiick... the silver pillar," said Aggie (the Speechifier, able to transform into leaflets and cover any material object, organic or inorganic, while talking foes into submission).

"The silver pillar opens, and you all pass through. On the other side, blocking an emerald curtain, is a ten-foot, one-ton orc who intones, 'Duhhh, none may pass.'"

"As mage, I cast a Stupifier spell to put it to sleep," said Sara (the Razzler-Dazzler, whose lips shoot dozens of tiny, sparkly ninja-stars).

"Okay," said Lisa, "roll a D12. Get 6 or higher." Sara did so, getting an 8. "Nice! You put the orc to sleep and inflicted 12 hit points of damage. You all pass through the curtain and find a lapis lazuli-encrusted sword sticking out of a diamond block."

"I try to pull out the sword," said Rich (the Beryllium Biker, who can traverse the interstellar void with his cosmic cycle).

"You successfully pull it out," said Lisa. An impish smile spread slowly across her face. "And as a result, you are all teleported toooo... the set of The Price Is Right. Come on down, you're the next contestants! And the first item up for bids, as the hottie on stage points out, is--"

"What the hell?" said Aggie.

"That's just--stupid," said Sara.

"F***, man," said Rich. "If we gotta play dork-games together in between heroic missions, can they at least be, y'know, internally consistent dork-games?"

"Hey," said Lisa. "When I'm DMing, we play it my way."

"Well, whose bright idea was it to let you DM?" said Rich.

"Why, should it be you, metal-head? (Metal-whole body, actually.) You've only just learned the basics of this 'dork-game' as you call it. Cry moar, n00b."

"Lisa, no one says that offline," said Aggie. "Besides, 'n00b' is a discriminatory term, and you know it. Why don't you consider--"

"Why don't you consider letting the DM do the DMing?"

"Because you're obviously not taking it halfway seriously," said Sara.

Lisa got up and tossed her pad and pencil to the floor, knocking a sizeable hole in it. "Ah, the hell with you guys, I'm outta here. Maybe find someone who appreciates my company." She stormed out into the raging downpour outside.

"Lisa, wait!" Aggie called after her. "Don't go."

Lisa turned around.

"What about the freakin' hole in my floor, huh? You gonna pay for that?"

Lisa made a rude gesture, then turned and walked into the night.

Across town, in a dimly-lit basement, an elderly, wizened man in a lab coat twisted dials on a giant machine with lots of blinkylights and jotted down readings. "At last! My mind-transplantation device is ready. Now for months of assiduous plotting to get one of the Fangasm Four into my clutches so that I can assume control of his or her body and infiltrate that meddlesome middle-school--er, hindering high-school--team, destroying it from within. And then I, Professor Fitz, shall...go on to destroy other things, until all of Greater Belleville answers to me! A-ha-ha--is that a knock at the door?"

Fitz locked the laboratory door behind him, went up the stairs, and answered the door. "Go away, you pesky little pisher---rrruh?!"

There stood a forlorn Lisa, soaked to the skin, her pigtails a soggy mess. "Heya, um, sir. Sorry to bother you, but I had a bit of a spat with some folks, tried to walk it off, and got caught in the rain. Mind if I just dry off in here for a bit until it lets up? I'll just stand right here, you won't even know I'm--"

Fitz put on his best facsimile of a warm smile. "Nonsense, my child, nonsense. Come right in. Don't worry, I'm far too elderly and wizened to try any funny stuff, if that's what you're thinking. Come, put on this one-size-fits-all track suit. I'll stick your clothes in the dryer, and you can join me for a cup of Ovaltine and a bit of a natter, do."

"Cool," said Lisa. "Though I'll pass on the Ovaltine, if you don't mind."

He handed her the track suit and showed her a bathroom where she could change in privacy. "Take your time, young lady," he said. "I've just got to nip downstairs for a bit."

Once safely in his soundproof lab, Fitz tossed Lisa's clothes on the floor and began to chuckle. "Fool! You have no idea who I am, do you? But I know who you are, Lisa Win--Winky--some Jewish name, I forget. The important thing is, I'd recognize you anywhere, Thunderbolt Trickster. And soon, your body shall be mine to use. Er, but not in a pervy way. I'm talking mind transplant here."

He headed back upstairs to find Lisa, hair wrapped in a towel, wearing the track suit. "Come, my dear. Have a seat."

"Thanks, mister." She sat down. "'S nice to take a load off my feet, because to tell the truth, I'm feeling kinda drowsy. And since I passed on the Ovaltine, I know you di'in slip me an-anythin'." She yawned. "Nah, it must...must be all that walkin'. T-tires a girl..." With that, she slid slowly off her chair, deeply asleep.

"Ha!" said Fitz. "My Soporific Suit worked faster on her than I thought. And now to carry her downstairs for the mind transplant. Here we g--ach! My back. I forgot, the doc says I'm supposed to avoid lifting. I'll get the dolly."

--To be continued--
"Life doesn't wait forever." --Lisa Winklemeyer
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Postby Alice Macher » Tue Sep 14, 2010 6:12 pm

Meanwhile, across the galaxy, a dread giant man-that-was-not-a-man sat on an asteroid and rubbed his hands together, partly in gleeful anticipation and partly because it's freakin' cold in space.

"So. The Golden Years Gods thought to imprison me and stay me from obtaining my sustenance. Well, the jest is on them, say I. In their folly, they realized not that when they perished, so would their bonds which imprisoned me these many eons. And now I, Needlenecticus the Nosher, am free! Free to tuck in and feast on worlds. FOR MINE IS THE POWER EPICUREAN! First stop: the planet Earth! Mm, yummy!"

On Main Street, Belleville, USA, Earth, there is an office tower. On the fortieth and highest floor of this tower are found the corporate head office of Veggie Bales, the Burundi Consulate, men's formal wear and haberdashery...and the headquarters of the Fangasm Four. Inside those headquarters is a lab, and it was there that our heroes, sans one, were toiling the next day.

"Good news, guys," said Aggie. "I've managed to open the portal."

"Nice going, Ag," said Sara. "Now we can finally explore the mysteries of the Dark Matter Zone."

Rich thought for a moment. "Yeah, but how are we gonna do that without getting lost in there forever?"

"Hm," said Aggie. "Guess I shoulda thought of that first. Wait, I know. We'll simply forge a tether to keep us anchored to this side of the portal. And one of us will hold fast to the anchoring end on this side while the others explore. Rich, you're our metallurgy specialist. Can you whip us up something of, say, the titanium variety?"

"Sure, but we could really use some lightning energy to temper it properly. Too bad we're still missin' Lisa."

"Someone call me?" said a voice behind them.

"Lisa!" said the other three.

"Hey guys," said the two-toned hair one, head bowed sheepishly. "Got room for a prodigious, I mean prodigal, daughter?"

"Of course," said Aggie, rushing over to hug her, followed by the others. "Glad to have you back, buddy. We missed you."

"Aw, I missed you guys, too." Ha! The fools, thought Professor Fitz, for so it really was, beneath the pigtails. They have no idea whom they're welcoming into their midst. They think they're hugging Lisa Wink--Winkenblinken... whatever, not realizing that this is an exact clone of her young, nubile body, together with its powers, and that the real Lisa lies asleep and manacled in my lab, for me to eliminate later, at my leisure. Hey, speaking of nubile bodies, Sara's got a pretty sexy midriff, hasn't she? And I wouldn't exactly kick Rich out of b--No! Must focus. I will "assist" them in their labours for now, but as soon as their guard is down, I shall destroy the Fangasm Four!

The asteroid was now nearing the Earth's atmosphere. "Soon," said Needlenecticus. "Soon, I shall break my fast."

The Lisa-impostor let forth from "her" arms a low-voltage stream of electricity, running it through the titanium cable Rich had forged. "How's this?"

"Great, excellent," said Aggie. "Okay, guys, let's tie this baby to that hook on the portal gate, and get ready to--"

Just then, the roof caved in, and through it came a colossus, who reduced himself in size accordingly. "At last! I have landed on Earth, and now I shall begin to--what? Richard Diggle? What are you doing here?"

Rich, brushing the debris out of his goatee, looked his questioner in the eye. "So, Needlenecticus, my old boss, we meet again."

"Aye, ill-met, traitor, Judas. Once you were my herald, the Beryllium Biker, for so did I transmute and empower you for my service. Then you had to go and develop what puny lesser mortals call 'ethics' and 'compassion,' and abandon me without giving two weeks' notice."

"Hey, I'm still the Beryllium Biker. Only now I work for humanity, not for some galactic glutton."

"Glutton? Glutton?! Insolent whelp, how dare you! I am Needlenecticus, and I demand only what is mine rightful sustenance: this planet. FOR MINE IS THE POWER EPICUREAN!" He brought his fist down on a computer panel for emphasis, smashing it. The vibrations knocked the others to their feet.

Blast! thought Fitz. This puts a fly in my ointment, doesn't it? Unless...unless while they're distracted fighting this...thing, I can strike them down and make truce with him. Bide your time, now, Fitz.

Aggie turned herself into a cloud of leaflets and tossed herself on Needlenecticus, but before she could launch into a grandiloquent speechification, he cast her off and sent her smashing against the wall, at which point she reverted, painfully, to human form. "Ow! Dang it to helling rassen frassen..."

Sara shot sparkly ninja star after sparkly ninja star from her lips at the giant, but he deflected most of them, while the others didn't even break the skin. He swatted her into a redundant computer panel, denting it.

Fitz hunkered down in a corner and smiled. Hey, this galoot's doing my job for me. All I have to do is stay out of harm's way while he finishes them off. Ha! These idiots, blessed with super powers, but instead of using them to get wealth and power, like a normal person would, they squander them on being 'heroes' and helping the helpless. I'll never understand that. Especially since they'll soon be toast.

"You an' me, now, Boss," said Rich, driving his bike straight at Needlenecticus, only to be lifted into the air, shaken off the bike, and hurled into yet another redundant computer. The portal, now without computers to regulate it, grew wider and taller.

"Ha!" said the Nosher. "You puny Earth 'heroes' are no match for me. Now I shall tuck in and feast on this savoury-smelling planet. But first! It has been so long since I last ate, I must calibrate my stomach with something small. Something like--" he set his sights on a cage on top of a filing cabinet "--this rodent here."

"No," said Aggie weakly. "Not--glurgle--Finister... Lisa... where are...?"

Needlenecticus opened the cage--no small feat for his fingers, large and bulky even at reduced size--and reached for Aggie's pet.

Wait, what's he doing? thought Fitz, his brilliant mind racing faster than light. He's going to eat that tiny, defenceless rat! Why doesn't he pick on someone his--hold on. What is this...this strange feeling inside of me? This feeling of...can it be? --Yes! I call it: compassion! I can't let that innocent rat, whatsisname, Finister, perish. Think, Fitz. What Would Lisa Do? --Why, she'd do what any... hero would do.

He picked himself up and emerged from his less-than-brave hiding place. "Hey! You with the glandular problem. Yeah, I'm talkin' to you!"

Needlenecticus turned. "Do you address me, puny thing?"

"Yeah, I got your address right here, pal. It's lightnin' time!" With that, Fitz let an enormous blast of lightning loose on the goliath, knocking him towards the ever-widening portal.

"You--you struck me," said Needlenecticus. "No one strikes me. FOR MINE IS THE POWER--"

"Yeah yeah, and the plus-sized airplane seat ya rode in on." Fitz unleashed another blast, drawing closer and closer himself to the portal. Meanwhile, Finister crawled out of his relaxed grip and over to Aggie, who cradled him in her arms as he licked her.

"Lisa!" murmured Sara, as the two combatants fused together in a bath of current, drawing--or perhaps being drawn?--ever closer to the Dark Matter Zone. "What are you--? You can't possibly hope to beat--"

Rich groaned. "You ain't... you ain't thinkin' of sacrificin'..."

"Whatsa matter, guys?" said the faux-Lisa. "Ain't none of you can finish a sentence?"

"You fool!" said Needlenecticus, sounding increasingly less intimidating the closer they came to the edge. "Shut off that infernal current, or you'll take us into the Zone and kill us both!"

"If that's what it takes, big guy." They began to pass, unstoppable, through the portal, out of the hospitable material realm we know. "A th- a th- a that's all, folks!"

A blinding flash of light, and they were both gone, the portal sealing itself conveniently behind them.

Hours later, having regained most of their strength, the three teen heroes set about cleaning up and salvaging what they could of the lab equipment.

"I can't believe it," said Aggie. "I can't believe she's really gone."

Sara brushed away a tear. "I can't believe the second-last conversation we had with her was a fight over a stupid D&D game. I mean, come to think of it, the Price Is Right bit was kinda funny."

Rich nodded. "Yeah. Well, at least she gave her life for the sake of the world. Kinda like a certain other saviour. Y'know, Pre-Crisis Supergirl from the comics."

"Wherever we go, Lisa'll always be with us," said Aggie. "Why, it's almost like I can hear her voice right now."

"Hey guys," said a voice behind them. "Whoa! What'd I miss? Hell of a way to do spring cleanin'."

"Yeah," said Aggie, "just like tha--uhWHAAAA?"

Everyone spun around, then spun around again so they were actually facing her. "Lisa?" said Sara. "But--it can't be. We just saw you go through that portal to your death."

"Nah, that wasn't me. That was a clone of my body with some other person's mind inside it. Y'see, when I woke up, manacled to a lab table, electrodes still attached to my head, that person was dressing in a replica of my costume while muttering like an old mad scientist from some webcomic or somethin'. So I pretended to still be asleep, and once I was satisfied my clone was gone, I burst free of my manacles, changed out of the ugly track suit I was in for some reason, got a bite to eat, went home, downloaded and watched a couple of MST3K episodes, and then made my way over here. From the looks of this place, though, I probably shoulda hustled a bit, huh? Sorry 'bout that. Also about last night. I was a jerkass."

Aggie hugged her. "Don't worry about that, Lis. All that matters is that you're back. But who was that person in your cloned body?"

"Who knows?" said Sara. "Some mad scientist looking for power and glory? Some former foe of ours out for revenge? Someone with a teen super-powered individual fetish who took it a little too far?"

"It don't matter none," said Rich. "Because whoever that person was, whatever that dude may have done--that person died...a hero."

Everyone paused for a moment of silence.

"So," said Lisa. "Okay if I DM again tonight?"

"Oh, Lis," said the others. "HA HA HA HA HA!"

The ever-lovin' END
"Life doesn't wait forever." --Lisa Winklemeyer
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Postby retrophrenologist » Tue Sep 14, 2010 7:08 pm

Hmmm. This seems oddly... familiar. :D
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Postby Alice Macher » Tue Sep 14, 2010 7:08 pm

Gee, ya think? :wink:
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A special presentation from the audio archives

Postby Alice Macher » Sat Oct 02, 2010 3:38 pm

Here's something for all you nostalgia buffs: a recently rediscovered, digitally remastered episode of the 1944 Thunderbolt Trickster radio serial, together with the original ads. Yay!


(Sonorous organ music)

Hey, kids! It's time for this week's episode of The Annoyingly Amazing Lisa: Thunderbolt Trickster, brought to you by Dromedary Cigarettes, made from Grade-A tobacco specially formulated for growing lungs. Remember, more super-powered individuals smoke Dromedaries than any other cigarette, and they'd rather fight than switch! Yes, Dromedary Cigarettes. Guilt your mom and pop into giving you some of their ration coupons today!

And now...see, up there in the heavens! It's a kite! It's a zeppelin! No, it's...Thunderbolt Trickster!

THUNDERBOLT TRICKSTER: A "zeppelin?!" Really, fella?

This week: Call It...Cabaret!

Our story opens with young, all-American Lisa Winklemeyer in third-period French.

TEACHER: Et maintenant, conjugez s'il vous plait la verbe <<voir>> au présent.

CLASS: Je vois, tu vois, il voit, elle voit, nous voyons...

LISA (under her breath): *Yawn* Je sleeps, tu sleeps, il sleept with a silent "t" ...unh? My right pigtail's trying to dip itself in the inkwell. That can mean only one thing: a call from the Major! (Aloud) Mme Pomplemousse! Mme Pomplemousse! May I please use the washroom?

TEACHER: Oh, la! En français, Mlle Winklemeyer.

LISA: Um... Puis-je...m'excuser pour... faire...le oui-oui?

(Everyone laughs)

TEACHER: Eh...close enough, kid. Don't be too long.

LISA (entering the washroom): Heh heh. Fortunately, being too long isn't an issue, what with my ability to travel at light-speed. For "Lisa Winklemeyer," all-American teenage girl, is only my secret identity; in reality, I am--wait a minute, why am I telling myself this, especially out loud? Time to get into costume! Lessee...stockings. Garter. Blouse. Skirt. Boots. Cap...anything else--oh yeah. Mask. And's off to see the Major. (Flies through open window)

Seconds later, at the military base just outside Belleville

THUNDERBOLT TRICKSTER: Sir! Thunderbolt Trickster, Lieutenant First Class reporting for duty, sir!

MAJOR MALCOLM FUNCTION: Ah, prompt as usual, T.T. At ease. Have a seat. Dromedary cigarette?

T.T.: Don't mind if I do, Major. Got a light? Thanks. (Inhales) Ahhh...that's good smokin'. So, how can I serve my country today, sir?

MAJOR: Do you know your German?

T.T.: No, but if you hum a few bars I'll--aah, I'm just ribbin' ya, Maje. Sure, I speak it flüntlich.

MAJOR: Heh. Glad to hear it. And funny you should speak of singing, because our regular undercover agent / cabaret singer in Berlin is on furlough, and we really need someone to smuggle a document sexily in her garters to our operative there.

T.T.: M-me, sir? I don't mind going among Nazis, 'cause I don't look Jewish, nor having to wear a skimpy outfit because, well, lookit me, I r-really have to s-s-sing in front of an audience?

MAJOR (chuckling): Why, T.T., are you scared? Aren't you the one who single-handedly punched out supervillain Herr Doktor Monocle on D-Day, and crushed with your bare hands a Panzer IV, possibly with one or two soldiers inside, not that the Geneva Convention people need to know...and all of a sudden you've got performance anxiety? Get a hold of yourself, girly!

T.T. (exhaling): You're right, sir. I'm just being a bubble-headed ol' dame. It's my patriotic duty to overcome my fears and croon bawdy songs of ever-increasing tempo while wiggling my tuchis in front of drunken, gropey SS men.

MAJOR: Now that's the Thunderbolt Trickster I know. Here's the document--no looksies!--here's your Marlene Dietrich-like outfit, and here's the name, photo, and clearance password of our operative. Good luck, Lieut--hey, where'd she go? And what's that window doing open?

And so, mere seconds later, in Berlin's elite nightclub, Die Wunderfrau

HOST: <Thank you, Otto Schreck and the Leapin' Lederhosen. Let's give 'em all a big ha--Ach! Watch where you're throwing those steins; I already have one creepy-looking glass eye. And now, lads, I'm pleased to present our very special guest performer. Please welcome, all the way from beautiful Heidenheim an der Brenz...the lovely LISEL!!!>

(Applause, hoots and hollers, as a glissando plays on the piano)

LISA (kittenishly): <Churchill...has only got one ball
Roosevelt...has two, but they are small
Mackenzie King...has but a small thing
And Stalin, Josef
Has no stuff
At all!

Play it, fellas!>

(The band starts up, and she begins tap-dancing as the crowd goes wild)

AUDIENCE MEMBERS: <Ach! What a tomater!> -- <And such original, witty lyrics!> -- <I'd like to lebens her raum!> (etc.)

LISA (echoing thinky-voice): (Huh. This ain't so bad after all. I got 'em eating outta my hand. Now all I have to do is skootch my way over to our undercover operative there in the corner, and--oh no, what's he of all people doing here? Is he--climbing up on stage? Gah, he's completely sloshed. Wait, where are those busy fingers going--) Mein Führer! Nein!

But it's too late! Hitler drunkenly rips off her cabaret costume, revealing...

HITLER: *Gasp* <It's--it's *hic* the American! The *burp* Thunderbolt Trickster!> *Bleccccch*

LISA: <And I'm a-thunderboltin' my way outta here! 'Scuse me, Charlie Chaplin. By the way, brown's really not your color.>

HITLER: <Ach no you don't! Get 'er, men.>

As she finds herself surrounded, we may ask: Is this the end for the Thunderbolt Trickster? Find out, after this message from our sponsor!

(Sonorous organ music)

You're listening to The Annoyingly Amazing Lisa: Thunderbolt Trickster. And while you're listening, why not enjoy the smooth, mild, invigorating taste of a Dromedary Cigarette? It promotes easy digestion, keeps you regular and makes the blind see. Would we lie to you? 'Course not; we've got paid doctors' testimonials and everything. Yes, Dromedary Cigarettes! Now available in bubblegum and root beer flavor. Y'know, for kids.

And now, back to our program. In a dimly-lit room somewhere in Berlin, a figure clad in lightning bolt-patterned clothing lies manacled to a table. As the prisoner slowly comes to, groaning in pain, a bald, monocled, goateed man in a labcoat--see, that's how you know he's a Nazi and evil and stuff--enters, rubbing his hands together.

NAZI DOCTOR: Zo! Ze princess hass awakened, ja? Vell, gut! It iss now time to make you talk. Ve haff vays of makink you talk, nicht war? Now iff only ze licht svitch vas not in here unexpectedly shattered, I could much besser see you. Oh vell. By ze vay, you might as vell stop mit ze screamink in ze Austrian-accented Cherman und claimink you can't understand a vord I'm sayink, because it zo happens I like speakink Englisch in zis outraaaageous accent--Was? Who iss from behind grabbink me? I vill turn around to look, und-- VHAAAAA?

That's right, friends. In case you've missed all the transparent hints we've thrown at you, the screaming, sobbing figure manacled to the table is none other than der Führer Schicklgruber himself, in our heroine's clothing. While, grabbing Herr Meshugginer Doktor and cuffing him mightily about the cranium and jaw areas is none other than...the Thunderbolt Trickster herself, in a not-quite-flattering brownshirt uniform.

T.T.: Whaddya mean, "not-quite-flattering?" Honey, I'd look good in an Army-issue bean pup tent, an' don'tcha forget it.

Hm, she really shouldn't be able to hear me. Anyway, in short order, the unconscious Herr Doktor is manacled face down on top of his new bed-mate (Can we say that? Will the censors allow--oh, good, it counts as "war effort" propaganda). And now, with a mighty whistle-blast, our heroine summons her cheery civilian operative friend Weezy and her fellow teenage sorority sisters.

WEEZY: Greetings, 'gator! We're here now, not later! Woo! Woo!

T.T.: Thanks, Weezy. I need you and your sisters to march around somehow disarming and tying up Nazis with your bare hands and feminine wiles, while I finally get this cockamamie secret document safely to our agent.

WEEZY: Piece a' cake, T.T. That reminds me, I could go for a piece of cake right now, but I must do my patriotic duty first. Woo! Woo!

T.T.: And stop saying "Woo! Woo!" Who are you, Daffy Duck?

Later, inside a secret U.S. intelligence headquarters in an undisclosed location

T.T.: Okay, bud, you clearly know the passwords. You're Agent Jones, all right. Here's the document you needed.

JONES: Thanks, Lieutenant. (Sound of envelope tearing) Oh, swell! This is perfect. It's just the information I need.

T.T.: Er, I know I'm probably not supposed to, but do you mind if I ask what--?

JONES: Nah, I don't mind. You've earned it. It's (inaudible whisper)

T.T.: YOUR GRANDMOTHER'S APPLE COBBLER RECIPE?! I flew overseas, compromised my dignity and risked my life for a gall-darned APPLE blessed COBBLER RECIPE?!

JONES: Shh, not so loud, or everyone here'll want some.

T.T.: And you know what's the worst thing? I've now missed twenty whole minutes of French class. Pomplemousse is gonna kill me. I better vamoose.

JONES: O-okay, miss. Sorry. Nice to mee--hey, where'd she go? And why is there a hole in the wall?

And so ends another adventure for Our Lady of Liberty and Lip, the Thunderbolt Trickster! We'll see you all here next week. Until then: keep 'em flying, buy War Bonds, and most important of all, buy Dromedary Cigarettes.

"Life doesn't wait forever." --Lisa Winklemeyer
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HALLOWE'EN SPECIAL (and crossover with Eerie Cuties)

Postby Alice Macher » Wed Oct 20, 2010 11:35 am

Issue #9



It was a balmy evening in late June. Penny, having put her last exam of junior year behind her that afternoon, was curled up on the sofa in her living room with the latest issue of Entertainment Weekly, when she heard a knock and annoying voice at the door.

*Knock knock knock* "Penny." *Knock knock knock* "Penny." *Knock knock knock* "Penny."

She groaned, put down the magazine and opened the door. "Lisa, your Sheldon Cooper impression was kind of funny the first time, but now it's getting--oh hiiiii, sweetie," she said, her voice rising an octave as she noticed Aggie standing there too and leaned forward to kiss her. "Mmm. So what up?"

Aggie brushed the love bubbles aside so she could think straight. "Pen, remember that treatment for a Thunderbolt Trickster biopic you and I wrote up just for fun?"

"Heh, yeah. What about it?"

"Well," said Lisa, grinning and bouncing on her toes, "guess who wants to produce it?"

Penny's mouth fell open. "Puh-produce?"

"Yeah. Remember Meighan McDowell, who saw our production of Macbeth and--"

Penny frosted over and folded her arms. "Yes. I remember her. I believe she only had eyes for Sara, though. The reality show, the Mostest® Fruit Pies commercials, also starring f***ing Rich..." (as seen in Ish #6, and yes, this is our first retcon -- ed.)

"Whoa there, my green-eyed monster," said Aggie. "It's Sara and Rich we have to thank for what I'm about to say. McDowell wanted Rich to star in a new sitcom, Yeah, Bitches!, she created to capitalize on his Hot Lights stunt."

"So he calls Sara with the news," said Lisa, "and get this: she talked him into accepting the offer on the condition that McDowell give your treatment a read--just a read, no commitment--and she loved it. And why shouldn't she, given who it's about?"

Aggie jumped in. "Penny, she's optioned The Thunderbolt Trickster with Warner Bros., with a budget of $150 million, for a June 2013 release. We're gonna be Hollywood screenwriters, babe! ...Babe? ...You in there?"

"...EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!" said Penny, jumping up and down and then smooching both Aggie and Lisa, the latter of whom thought, Huh. Well, not the one I'd hoped to get into casual kissing, but this'll do.

A week later, the three of them were in L.A. for their first meeting with Meighan. Penny and Aggie, despite the 100° weather, wore their best power suits (Aggie opting for the more androgynous sort), while Lisa was in costume. This was, after all, official super-powered individual business...kinda. She at least, in her t-shirt and shorts, didn't have to worry about sweat stains.

Meighan waved her copy of their treatment around as she spoke. "Girls! This is big-screen gold, right here."

Penny, her voice uncharacteristically tiny, bit her lip. "You really like it?"

"Like it? I love it! I want to f*** it! I want to suck its--okay, enough cliché Hollywood producer talk. Let's get down to tachlis, as my Jewish colleagues would say. Ah, hell, this is Hollywood; we're all Jewish. Anyway. We've just made a few changes here and there in your treatment. You know how it is. We get to do that and you nod happily and s**t. That's a joke, girls. Mostly."

Aggie, the most articulate of the three, ventured a reply. "We know there'll be changes, Meighan. Just tell us what they are."

"You got chutzpah, kiddo. I like that. You know what Katzenberg says is the definition of chutzpah? Killing your parents and then throwing yourself on the mercy of the court because you're an--" She cut herself short when she noticed both Penny and Lisa frantically gesturing toward Aggie while drawing their fingers across their throats with the other hand. "Uh...yeah. So the first change is to the costume of the actor playing Lisa. Don't get me wrong, kid; that's a very practical outfit for super-powered adventuring and all. But it's not big-screen friendly. Lemme show you what our designers came up with, and we can work from there." She pushed a button on her desk phone. "Che'nelle? Send Lucy in, please."

Lucy, familiar to teenagers nationwide from Hot Lights, sashayed in, her hair two-toned red and tied in six pigtails. She wore a black leather V-shaped outfit that, together with the nude-coloured pasties on her ample breasts and down below, provided just enough coverage to avoid an NC-17 rating. On her feet were silver, six-inch stiletto heels. "Spin around for the girls, Luce," said Meighan. She then turned to Aggie, whom she'd pinpointed as the spokesperson for the trio. "So, whaddya think?"

"I, er, um, ah...humina humina humina..."

Lucy smiled sweetly. "Hee. I have that emotional defect on people sometimes."

Penny grinned scarily and spoke to her adultery-in-her-heart-committing girlfriend out the side of her mouth. "Ag-gie...The nice producer lady asked you a question..."

Lisa jumped in. "Please excuse my blue-haired bud. She's the more sapphic of these two, y'see."

That did the trick. "Lisa!" said Aggie, scandalized, while Penny counted to ten, then twenty. Aggie cleared her throat and avoided looking directly at Lucy. "Well, Meighan, we know sex appeal is very important for superhero movies--Jessica Alba as Invisible Woman and such--but this is a bit much, don't you think?"

"More like a bit, period," said Lisa under her breath.

"Yeah, that," said Aggie, "and besides, remember how, with Watchmen, one of the reasons it didn't perform as well as hoped at the box office was because it was R-rated. Y'know, Dr. Manhattan's blue...thingie and such? Well surely, with The Thunderbolt Trickster you want to reach as wide an audience as possible, right? Not to mention that Lucy'll be playing a teenager who in our treatment is still underage, like in real life."

Meighan nodded. "Good point, kid. I'll have wardrobe put together something more bor--I mean modest. Oh, and wipe your chin, hon; you're drooling. Lucy, thanks for coming by. See you on the Yeah, Bitches! set next Monday." With a wave and a cheery "Au renoir!," the star left, to everyone's relief but Meighan's.

"Sssso," said Penny, "what about the story outline?"

"Oh yeah. That was the other slight change. Now Lisa. Your origin story is all very fascinating, as was the case of that Kriskristofferson chick or whatever her name was. Great s**t. But audiences today, especially the teen demographic, they want something more out of the ordinary. More paranormal. More...fangy. Y'know, Twilight, The Vampire Diaries, True Blood, hell, even Vampires Suck came in first in its opening weekend and it blew chunks o' s**t."

"Vampires." Aggie wore as neutral a mask as she could manage. "You want the Thunderbolt Trickster to fight vampires."

"Well, mainly a vampire. A teenager like herself. And we have just the young ingenue to play her." Meighan buzzed her secretary again and a few seconds later, another actor walked into the office. "Girls, meet Layla Delacroix, who just finished her junior year at Charybdis Heights. Layla: Lisa Winklemeyer, Aggie D'Amour, Penny Levac."

The three friends sized up the dark-haired, beautiful but vaguely contemptuous-looking girl with a skull hairpin that uncannily matched her haughty facial expression. "Yeah, hi," she said, opening her mouth just wide enough to reveal a set of fangs.

--To be continued--
Last edited by Alice Macher on Wed Oct 20, 2010 8:36 pm, edited 1 time in total.
"Life doesn't wait forever." --Lisa Winklemeyer
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Postby sun tzu » Wed Oct 20, 2010 1:43 pm

O-ho. Interesting. :D
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Postby retrophrenologist » Wed Oct 20, 2010 6:03 pm

Will Lisa defeat the insidious menace of mind-controlled makeouts? Stay tuned! :)
"I am the spirit that denies. All that you call sin and destruction-- or evil, if you will-- that is my proper element."
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Postby Alice Macher » Sun Oct 31, 2010 3:27 pm

[Hey there Lisa fans-- Sorry I haven't continued this story yet. Midterms and papers came first! That, and celebration time afterward with a little someone special... :wink: Anyway. I figure if The Simpsons can be late for Hallowe'en, so can I. Stay tuned! -- Alice]
"Life doesn't wait forever." --Lisa Winklemeyer
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