Blue Light Productions presents

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       [Fan.Boy stands in the Library of Infinite Stories, looking 
        embarrassed at the pile of books that have fallen at his feet.
        A sticker at the bottom proclaims: "SPECIAL DOUBLE-ISSUE SIZE!"]
 
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
 
Fan.Boy groaned and rolled over, trying to make himself more comfortable.
He struggled for a few moments, but the ground underneath was harsh and
ungiving. Fan.Boy wriggled, and then realised something.  He was awake.
Then he remembered something. 
        "Bates!" he yelled, sitting upright, his brain kicking into
overdrive, instantly providing him with details of great danger, but
failing to tell him the really important facts, such as: Where was he now? 
        As no-one immediately shot him, or yelled at him, Fan.Boy's heart
calmed down, and he looked around to see where he was. 
        The first thing he saw was a very stern Ultimate Ninja, looking at
him with his arms crossed and a foot tapping. Fan.Boy blinked at him a few
times, before turning his head to see who else was here. Beside the ninja
was Doctor Stomper, with a concerned, and puzzled, expression on his face,
and next to him was Retcon Lad, who just looked concerned. 
        Focusing on what was beyond, Fan.Boy recognised where he was with
a sinking heart. The Peril Room. Boy, was he getting really sick of this
place. But that would explain why the floor was so hard. 
        Fan.Boy stood up carefully, making sure no bones decided to snap
on him, and stretched. One further thought entered his mind. 
        "WHOOPEE!" he yelped. "I'M HOME!" 
        Before the Ultimate Ninja could react (or possibly he was slightly
stunned due to the punctuation), Fan.Boy bounced over to him and gave him
a bear hug. 
        When the Ultimate Ninja did react, Fan.Boy found himself
face-planted back into the Peril Room floor. "And hello to you too," the
ninja said. 
        "Okay, okay," said Fan.Boy. "I'm all right now." 
        The foot on the back of his neck moved, and Fan.Boy was allowed to
rise and dust himself off. 
        "What happened to you?" asked Retcon Lad. 
        Fan.Boy stared at Retcon Lad. "I don't know. I remember trying to
electrocute myself for the goodness of mankind..." Fan.Boy rubbed his
mouth. "Now that was really dumb. Still, I'm pretty sure it stopped
Professor Bates." 
        "Who?" asked Doctor Stomper. "I think you'd better tell us your
version of events." 
        Fan.Boy continued to look at Retcon Lad. "I was home, Joe. I was
really home." 
        "Geez," Retcon Lad replied, the only person who was able to
understand what that meant to Fan.Boy. 
        Doctor Stomper took Fan.Boy's arm and led him out of the Peril
Room. 
 
                                _-~-_
 
"..and then I stuck my tongue on the plug, shorting things out. I'm pretty
sure I heard something blow up, but I wasn't quite up to a full analysis
of the situation," Fan.Boy said. "And then there was a bright pain, then
darkness, and I woke up in the Peril Room. 
        "Why, did something happen here?" 
        Doctor Stomper grinned. "You could say that. The Barry here was
fighting.. Kismet, I think her name is, then he just fell out of the sky.
Not a pretty result." 
        "As far as we can tell," put in the Ultimate Ninja, "the same
happened in all the other newsgroups. Their Barrys just collapsed, and
have woken up as normal, not remembering anything." 
        "And Censor Girl?" 
        The Ultimate Ninja and Doctor Stomper exchanged looks. "She was
really involved?" Stomper asked. "We weren't sure." 
        Fan.Boy closed his eyes for a moment, and picked up on the latest
issue of _Misfits_. "Ah," he said. "She's reverted back to her organic
side." Fan.Boy sighed. "And she back to a child again. I wish her luck." 
        "Barry?" This was from Retcon Lad, and Fan.Boy turned his
attention to him. 
        "Who was Dreck?" 
        Barry made it as far as the stairs before he started crying. He
sank onto the steps, sorrow flooding through him. "Oh, Dreck," he
whispered. 
        Someone sat down beside him, and Barry heard Joe say "Hey, I'm
sorry. I didn't mean to cause you pain." 
        "I.. I loved him," Barry said through his tears. "And.. I.. I
killed him!" Barry tucked his head into his arms and wept anew. 
        Barry felt Joe put his arm around him. "I know. I caught up on the
back issues. That wasn't you. That was a.. construct, a puppet being
controlled by this Professor Bates. You didn't kill him, she did." 
        "But it was me he loved, and he was trying to stop who he thought
was me when he died," Barry said. "If I hadn't met him, he might still be
alive." 
        "No he wouldn't," replied Joe. "Flashback would have killed him
first. Remember, it was only due to you that he lived as long as he did,
and as good as he did. He was miserable and hurt, living as he did. You
freed him, Barry. Although he was only with you from a few months, even I
could tell they were they most precious moments of his life. 
        "He knew that you weren't you when he tried to stop you, but he
tried to stop you anyway because he loved what you had been. He knew what
he was getting into, but he did it anyway. Can you hear what I'm saying?"
Joe asked. 
        Barry nodded, sniffing. "Yeah, but it still isn't easy to accept." 
        "It never is." 

                                _-~-_
 
Upstairs, Organic Lass checked the equipment again. It wasn't necessary,
but it gave her something to do while she waited for Doctor Stomper to
join her. 
        She looked down at the patient on the table, now unconscious. 
This operation was Inacoustic Kid's decision, but Organic Lass felt
nervous. Too many things could go wrong, too many variables that weren't
understood. 
        After Inacoustic Kid had asked for Kid Kirby, the Kirbian had
arrived as requested. Inacoustic Kid asked him about the scans Kid Kirby
had taken. Over the years, Kid Kirby had amassed detailed medical records
of every LNHer he could, for reasons just like the one Inacoustic Kid
asked for. 
        The Wielder of the Power Kirby provided a in-depth analysis of
Inacoustic Kid's aural tract, of how it had been before Queen Enterprises
interfered. Instead of returning Inacoustic Kid's anatomy to human normal,
which would have resulted in a loss of his powers, he asked for Organic
Lass and Doctor Stomper to return his body to how it had been according to
the charts, at least, as much as possible.  Inacoustic Kid was older now,
so the biology wouldn't be exact. 
        Organic Lass made sure that the scanners were operating at peak
efficiency, and rechecked the warning levels. If any part of this
operation caused Inacoustic Kid's reading to fall outside of the given
range, alarms would go off (visible ones only, in this case) and emergency
shut off and reversal procedures would automatically activate. 
        Organic Lass bit the inside of her cheek, and checked her watch
again. Where was he? 
        With the impeccable timing of those who are unaware of it, Doctor
Stomper entered the Med Lab. He nodded to Organic Lass, and ran an eye
quickly over the setup. He had been here when they got most of it ready,
and trusted that Organic Lass had organised things properly. 
        After the sterilisation field had fallen into place, the operation
to save Inacoustic Kid from terminal mental anguish began. 
 
                                _-~-_
 
Fan.Boy wandered around the LNHQ, not really looking where he was going. 
He was feeling somewhat better, but not a lot. There wasn't really anyone
he could talk to. No-one knew Dreck like he did. He considered visiting
Special Bonding Boy, but that was like admitting he couldn't deal with his
own problems. That might be true, but he didn't want to face that yet. 
        He also considered going to see Brittany. She had been the only
other person whom had talked to Dreck for any length of time, and she
liked him. Then again, she might blame him for Dreck's death, possibly
almost as much as he did. 
        Fan.Boy knocked against something, and rubbed his leg
automatically. Looking down, he saw a chair in his way, and then he looked
up to see where he had ended up. The Peril Room control room.  Hah. Nearly
as bad as the room itself. 
        Fan.Boy sat down, and idly flicked a few switches. The Peril Room
lit up, and the bare room inside changed to become a harsh, unforgiving
desert. Flicking another switch, the desert became a jungle.  Hurriedly,
Fan.Boy flicked some more switches and the scene became a city street,
street gang members running from hiding place to hiding place, firing
machine guns as they went. 
        This must be some of the more generic settings, Fan.Boy decided. 
Finding nothing of particular interest, Fan.Boy switched the room off. 
        "You do realise that no-one else has been able to do that for a
long time," said a voice behind, and Fan.Boy whirled around in his chair
to face himself. Himself dressed differently. 
        "Oh, hello.. Allen? Isn't that what your calling yourself
nowadays?" 
        Allen, aka Faq Boy, aka Fan.Boy's dimensional twin, nodded. 
"Wouldn't want anyone getting the two of us mixed up." 
        "I'm sure Paytan wouldn't like it if we switched places,"  Fan.Boy
said, grinning. 
        Allen smiled faintly. "It's not going easy with her. I keep
thinking of..." He shook his head. "Never mind." He gestured to the Peril
Room proper. "How did you do that?" 
        "Do what?" asked Fan.Boy. "I just flipped switches, and voila." 
He flipped the Peril Room on, and the city scene came back to life. 
        "Yes, but no-one's been able to affect anything ever since
Writer's Block Woman used it to test sidekicks." 
        "I remember that," said Fan.Boy, wincing. By the time it was his
turn, problems were already happening. 
        "We couldn't switch the Peril Room off, and we couldn't change it
from jungle. Not long after you entered, the Peril Room became blackness,
couldn't see a thing, even though the main door," Allen explained. "It was
like a solid wall. We couldn't penetrate it. And then, after you broke out
through the top, or rather the evil you," Fan.Boy looked up at the roof of
the Peril Room. It was mostly back to normal, but some patches still
looked fragile. "the Peril Room was on, but no program was running, it was
just an empty room. Nothing we did could affect that either. Not even
cutting power, nor breaking the electronic circuits. 
        "And now, you return to normal, and the Peril Room is back to
functioning properly. As much as it ever did. What happened in there?" 
        "I can only remember some of it," Fan.Boy said. "Going through the
jungle. Being forced to play Indiana Jones in parodies of the movies.. I
remember drinking from a cup, but it goes blank there.  Professor Bates
said something about that being #15, and it was posted, although nobody
saw it. That must be why I can't remember it." 
        "Can you remember what you had for breakfast last week?" Allen
asked. 
        "Sure." 
        "Was that ever posted?" 
        "Don't think so." 
        "Then posting can't have anything to do with it. Perhaps there's a
more simple explanation of either something thing happening to you that
you don't want to remember, or simply can't remember." 
        "Well, I should like to find out," Fan.Boy said. 
        "How? You can't read it by checking the newsgroups." 
        "Noo," said Fan.Boy slowly, an idea coming to him, "but I'll bet
that the Library of Infinite Stories (the biggest plot device that ever
existed) has a copy." 
        "Fine. Get over there then." 
        Fan.Boy stood up, then remembered something. "Er, I can't," he
said, somewhat sheepishly. "I've been grounded." 
        "Yeah, me too," replied Allen. 
        Due to Fan.Boy's recent cosmic episode, the Ultimate Ninja told
Fan.Boy that he had to stay inside for a while so that he wouldn't get
lynched, until the city recovered. As Allen was an identical twin, the
same applied to him. 
        "But, I've got to get over there somehow," said Fan.Boy, more or
less to himself. 
        Allen snapped his fingers. "Easy. Come with me." 
 
                                _-~-_
 
"I'm still not sure about this," Fan.Boy said, piloting the
flight.thingee. 
        "I hope you don't expect me to drive," said Allen. "You know me. 
I can't operate any of those damn .thingee things." 
        "And you're sure the Library agreed?" 
        "Yes," assured Allen. "I rang ahead. They say they do things like
this all the time. Not everyone who visits that place wants the fact
broadcast, but... I used the fact that we were LNHers to get in, but I
didn't say which ones we were." 
        "Meaning?" asked Fan.Boy, setting the flight.thingee down
carefully on the roof. The section they were positioned on descended
smoothly, and another piece slid into place above them, hiding their
presence. 
        "Meaning," said Allen, tossing a long robe to Fan.Boy, "we're
about to become two Kid Unknowns. You don't think the Library will let in
someone who recently tried to blow the city up, do you?" 
        Fan.Boy sighed. Unfortunate, but true. He stood up and donned the
robe, pulling the cowl well over his face. 
        "Do you really think they'll believe us?" 
        Allen passed Fan.Boy something else. "LNH passes," Allen said. 
"Used by LNHers in disguise who need the LNH clout without revealing who
they are. I swiped them from the Ultimate Ninja's office." 
        Fan.Boy gulped. "And if he finds out?" 
        "Don't worry. He'll be too busy worrying about the missing
flight.thingee." 
        "Hey! I thought you said you signed it out." 
        "And you believed me?" snorted Allen. "Bite me, Fan.Boy." 
        Fan.Boy inadvertently grinned at the line, then activated the
door. Outside were waiting a librarian and someone who looked like they
had bricks in their ancestry. 
        "Good afternoon, gentlemen," the librarian said. "We've been
waiting for you." 
        Fan.Boy and Allen showed their passes, and no questions were asked
about their identities. "What's with the goon squad?" asked Allen,
somewhat tactlessly. 
        The librarian raised an eyebrow, glancing at the man in question.
"Merely a precaution, sir. While we are satisfied as to your credentials,
our security procedures will not allow unidentified persons to peruse the
library without a visible reminder of our restrictions."  The librarian
smiled. "Merely a routine. I'm sure you understand." 
        Fan.Boy sighed. "Yes, all right. Let's get on with it shall we?" 
        The librarian looked at the two of them with a careful eye, as if
he was trying to work out why the both of them should have the same voice.
Without venturing a comment, however, he turned and strode ahead, leaving
Fan.Boy and Allen to fall in behind, and the guard to bring up the rear. 
        Soon, they were in the section they had requested, known as the
Eyrie. Fan.Boy spotted other patrons reading the comics stored there, and
wondered which of them, if not all of them, were working for the Queen Bee
        "This is the issue you requested, sir," said the librarian, going
to a particular shelf, and selecting an issue. He brought it over to them. 
        Fan.Boy looked at it, feeling a slight creepiness flowing over
him. Although he was used to the fictional nature of the Looniverse, it
was still eerie looking at a comic that depicted an important part of your
life. 
        Fan.Boy sat down, and, with Allen looking over his shoulder, he
began to read. 
 
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Click here to read Fan.Boy #15 
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
 
Fan.Boy put the comic down gently. It explained a lot. How he got his
powers. How he became so evil. And what the exact relationship between
here and home was. 
        He had nearly started crying when he had come to Dreck again, but
had managed to contain himself. Still, he could feel another flood of
tears, just waiting below the surface. 
        "I can see why you didn't want to remember some of that," said
Allen, "and the force of the take over must have erased a lot before it." 
        "Come on," Fan.Boy said, standing, his voice husky. "Let's go
home." 
        Allen followed quietly, letting Fan.Boy keep his fragile peace. 
        The return trip was more subdued, Fan.Boy thinking about a number
of things. He also tried not to think of the reception waiting for him. 
 
                                _-~-_
 
Marsha Burgenstock walked into the Med Lab to hear Organic Lass chatting
quietly with Doctor Stomper. Was quite surprised to be able to hear
Organic Lass chatting to Doctor Stomper. 
        She walked quietly up to them, giving a sidelong look to
Inacoustic Kid, who lay sleeping on a bed. "It went well, then?" she
asked. 
        Organic Lass nodded. "Oh yes, we're very pleased with the results.
As you can hear, we managed to remove the silencing field.  Unfortunately,
we couldn't return Inacoustic Kid back fully to his previous anatomical
configuration due to age, so we'll have to wait for him to wake up and
then we can find out if there are any side affects." 
        Marsha turned to look at Inacoustic Kid again, seeing how peaceful
he looked asleep. She heard Doctor Stomper move away, then Organic Lass
whispered to her. 
        "So, will you be leaving soon, then?" 
        Yes, that decision lay ahead of her still, and Marsha still wasn't
sure about the answer. As she had found out, she was still as useless as
she had been before, and if it wasn't for Inacoustic Kid she would have
been gone long ago. 
        Then again, if it hadn't been for Inacoustic Kid, she would never
have returned. 
        "I'm not sure," she whispered. "But there really isn't anything to
keep me here." 
        Organic Lass smiled to herself. She recognised that look Marsha
had on her face whenever she saw Inacoustic Kid. It's the same look she
herself wore when she looked at Pocket Man. It was just a matter of Marsha
realising that she was wearing it. 
        "There's him," Organic Lass said. "I'll bet he'll keep you here." 
        Marsha looked at Organic Lass carefully, and then both started
giggling quietly. 
        "He is very handsome," Organic Lass said. 
        "I know," said Marsha. "But..." 
        "But what? What's stopping you? Yourself, perhaps?" 
        "Do you really think I am?" 
        "I'd say so." 
        "But..." 
        "You just haven't realised it yet." Organic Lass patted Marsha on
the shoulder, and moved away. 
 
                                _-~-_
 
Fan.Boy was right. The Ultimate Ninja stood waiting for them, a look of
anger on what was visible of his face. 
        Allen smirked. "Leave this to me," he said, exiting the
flight.thingee first. 
        "And your explanation is..?" inquired the Ultimate Ninja. 
        "We were on an important research mission," said Allen. 
        "And for such an important mission, you decided to steal a
flight.thingee?" 
        "Ultimate Ninja," said Allen, putting his arm around the leader. 
Fan.Boy moved away as unobtrusively as possible. "Ninj. What is your
position here?" 
        "Leader," said the ninja, eyes narrowing. 
        "Are you sure?" said Allen, feigning puzzlement. "I'm sure it says
in the FAQ that you're a cousin of Limp-Asparagus Lad, and are more of a
wet blanket than he is." 
        "It says no such thing." 
        "Are you sure?" asked Allen, an edge to his voice. "I could make
it say that." 
        "Like that, is it?" The ninja stared at Allen silently for a
minute, obviously wanting to punch Allen's knowing smile out. "Very well. 
Be gone." 
        "You're a real pal," said Allen, slapping the Ultimate Ninja on
the back. He motioned to Fan.Boy, and left the hanger bay whistling. 
        "Wasn't that, ever so slightly, more than mind-bogglingly stupid?"
hissed Fan.Boy, once they were outside. 
        "Hah," Allen snorted. "What's he going to do? Kill us? He's Mister
Nice Ninja now. He'll let it pass. Although," Allen looked around quickly,
"I wouldn't be too quick checking for snakes in my bed tonight, if I were
you." 
        Fan.Boy struggled to keep a straight face, but failed. 
 
                                _-~-_
 
Fan.Boy sat up in the Peril Room control room, waiting for Doctor Stomper
to join him. He flicked idly through the Peril Room situations, looking,
but not really seeing. 
        The explanation maestro emerged from the doorway. "What is it
Fan.- How did you do that?" 
        "It's back to normal now. After Professor Bates's computer
exploded, it must have relinquished its control on all the systems. I
think you'll find you can do whatever you like." 
        "I'm sure the Ultimate Ninja will be pleased," said the doctor,
manipulating the controls, and watching as the Peril Room responded as it
should. 
        "I also found out how my powers work," said Fan.Boy casually. 
"Would you like to hear?" 
        Doctor Stomper immediately turned away from the controls. "Would
I? You bet!" To Fan.Boy, he sounded like a excited school kid. Or a
fanboy. 
        Fan.Boy explained, as best he could, about the relationship
between the various systems of the LNHQ, and how they contributed to his
abilities. 
        Doctor Stomper sat raptly throughout the explanation, and pursed
his lips at the end. "So, these systems here," he gestured to the
controls, "are responsible for all your other selves existing in all the
newsgroups." 
        "Precisely. Without them, they're as vulnerable as anyone," 
Fan.Boy said. "Oh, by the way, you were right." 
        "Oh? When?" 
        "Way back when we first met. You said that the real Barry Knewbee
probably wouldn't know what had happened. I might be Barry Knewbee Prime,
as it were, as far as the net realities go, but I'm just a mere copy of
him." 
        Doctor Stomper nodded sagely. "Yes. That sounds about right. 
You've come along way since then. Especially when you first arrived." 
        "Oh? Ah, yes. The angst. That was a retcon, I'm afraid. In a
Christmas story, the Ghost of Christmas Repast took me back, and showed me
what would happen if I came in angsting. Not a very pretty sight." 
        "Repast?" 
        "Long story." 
        "Ah. So, what are you going to do now? All your questions you've
ever asked about yourself have been answered." 
        "Have they?" said Fan.Boy. "I suppose so." 
        "Is there something else bothering you now?" 
        "I want to know what happened to Professor Bates," Fan.Boy said.
"Was she really killed? If not, is she going to try again?  Everything is
still available to her." 
        "Not quite. Instructions have been passed ordering Firewall to
deconstruct her devices. If Professor Bates does want to try again, she'll
have to find another way." 
        "That's good. But, if she didn't survive, will others duplicate
her work? I don't mean to sound overly paranoid, but what if someone less
vindictive than her got hold of it? Someone with more than revenge on
their mind? What if a government gained control? Or some secret
organisation?" 
        "I think," said Doctor Stomper, "that you've been watching too
much _Nowhere Man_." 
        "Possibly." 
        "So, go back again." 
        "What?" 
        "You've done it once, already," said the doctor. "You now know it
can be done. Why not go back and find out what happened afterwards?" 
        "I could be dead there. I don't know what happened after I shorted
things out." 
        "Then you should just bounce back here. No harm done." 
        "I suppose so. Yeah," said Fan.Boy, gaining enthusiasm in the
idea. "Yeah, I think I will." He stood up. "I'll just go talk to someone
first." 
        Doctor Stomper watched in amusement as Fan.Boy left, nearly at a
run, then turned back to the Peril Room systems. 
 
                                _-~-_
 
"So you'll help me?" Fan.Boy asked Retcon Lad, once Fan.Boy had explained
his plan. 
        "Are you sure you want to go through with this?" 
        "Yes. I have to find out, or it's going to nag me forever. 
Besides, I might be able to see my family one last time." 
        Retcon Lad knew how powerful a feeling that would be, and also
knew with such an attractant, Fan.Boy was going to go anyway, with or
without his help. 
        "Yeah," Retcon Lad said. "I'll help. What is it you want me to
do?" 
        "Mainly, keep an eye on me," Fan.Boy said. "Lock the door to make
sure no-one gets in. I don't really want to come back and find out my
body's been used for target practice by the entire LNH." 
        Retcon Lad grinned. "Fair enough." 
        "Got your ear-muffs?" 
        Retcon Lad held them up. They were a wise investment given
Fan.Boy's temperament after having sticky tape put across his mouth. 
        "Ready?" 
        Retcon Lad put the ear-muffs on, and gave Fan.Boy the thumbs up. 
        Fan.Boy closed his eyes, and breathed deeply. He was still new at
this, and didn't want to end up with his brain a cheese sandwich. 
        His mind leapt. 
 
                                _-~-_
 
Fan.Boy opened his eyes. He was lying down, so all he saw was an expanse
of white, with an occasional light hanging here and there to show that it
was a ceiling. Well, this wasn't his room, so he'd gone somewhere. 
        Fan.Boy listened carefully, letting his senses retune to the
multiple sounds of a proper universe. The sound of shoes slapping on the
floor far away. The rustle of trees being blown gently outside. The odd
squeak of what was probably a wheelchair. 
        Fan.Boy sat up, finally looking around to see where he was. He was
sitting on a low bunk, one of many in the large room. High up on the
walls, small windows looked out onto a clear sky. Some of the other beds
had men lying on them, and at one end a woman in a white uniform was
pushing a wheelchair with an old man in it. 
        Fan.Boy decided he was in a hospital ward. Pretty sensible.  After
someone had been in whatever accident must have happen, keeping them for
surveillance was an idea he could respect. 
        Fan.Boy swung his legs over the side, and slowly stood up. 
Nothing too bad happened to him. No wash of dizziness, no signs of his
legs collapsing underneath him. Nothing whatsoever to indicate he's been
in a room with an explosion of any kind. Not even a scratch on his arm. 
        Fan.Boy moved over to the end of his bed, and, making sure there
were no nurses around, looked at his chart. There were no graphs on it,
just some medical notes that made no sense to him, and what looked like an
entire list of pharmaceutical supplies. Pretty hefty drugs for someone who
had escaped major injuries... 
        Fan.Boy quickly patted his chest through his white smock that he
wore. Nope, no bandages, so no broken ribs or other internal injuries with
external signs. 
        Fan.Boy wandered down the room, idly looking at the patients with
him in the ward. A pretty odd mixture. One was a young man, who was curled
up in a fetal position. Another was an old man who continually mumbled to
himself. And another one who thrashed up and down on his bed every now and
then. 
        Fan.Boy decided that he was in the head trauma ward. Must be. 
Fan.Boy put a hand to his head, but didn't feel anything wrong there. He
gave his head a subtle shake. Nope, everything seemed all right. 
        Fan.Boy walked out of the ward, keeping an eye out for anyone who
looked like they were suddenly going to point at him and yell "He's
moving!" With no idea of what Barry had actually been brought in for, he
couldn't be too sure that he hadn't just performed a minor miracle. 
        Pull back. Through the corridors, past other wards, and out to the
main entrance. 
        Pull back. The building sits in, and is surrounded by a large
garden and lawn, where other patients and nurses walk and talk. 
        Pull back. A wall circles this place, keeping it away from
everything else. 
        Move to the side. A sign is here. 
        Splash page:
 
                +--------------------+
                |                    |
                |       Porirua      |
                |                    |
                | Mental Institution |
                |                    |
                +--------------------+
 
        "Confetti and Lamingtons."
        by Jamas Enright
 
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
NEXT ISSUE: Well, Fan.Boy's a basket case. How? Find out in _Fan.Boy #21_:
"A sparrow in a cuckoo's nest." 
 
Credits:
--------

Ultimate Ninja - wReam
Organic Lass - Rebecca
Doctor Stomper - Public Domain
Retcon Lad - Saxon
All others - mine
 
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