Blue Light Productions presents

-----=====##### G U I T A R   M A N  1 #####=====-----

[Issue 1.   It begins.]
"It's a long way to the top if you wanna rock'n'roll"
-AC/DC

   It was a warm Saturday morning in Net.ropolis.   Mouse kicked a
stone into the gutter.   She was getting tired of these shopping
expeditions; WBW always ended up in the shops for hours and never
bothered to ask Mouse for her opinion, or anything except "Please hold
this for me, dear."   Mouse mooched along the shopfronts peering
disenheartedly into the windows.   Why would anyone in this town want
to buy custom-fitted elbow polishers anyway? Another week bottled up
in Net.tropolis and she'd go insane.   And besides, she missed home...

A loud, disharmonious noise broke her train of thought; it had a hint
of guitar in it, but was not in the usual run of noises produced by
guitars - more a sort of "train full of geese colliding with a truck
full of guitars next to a hotel with a bagpiper's convention in it".
She looked up, and spotted the source; a busker was just warming up.
People were exiting the scene as fast as they could; they seemed to
know him.   Mouse examined him critically, then stood and watched for
a few minutes.   Satisfied with the noise his guitar was making, the
busker burst into song.   Sort of.

"Get down ya boom da widdy noo nah nah" he sang, very badly.   Mouse
cringed, and almost bolted, but held her ground until he finished his
song.   "Bah doo wah..." finished the busker, some time later, and
bowed to his audience of one - aside from Mouse the street was clear.
"Thank you very much," he said, then sighed and started to pack up his
guitar.   Mouse paused a moment for the ringing to subside from her
ears and tapped him on the shoulder.   He dropped his pick in
surprise.   "Um, yes, can I help you?"
"Well," said Mouse, "That depends.   Are you going to sing again?"
"Not much point really, is there?   Must be lunchtime, everyone's
vanished off to get food or something.   I always time my busking
really badly."
Mouse looked at her watch ... it was 11:30am.   "Um.   I don't mean to
be personal but are you a hero?"
"Well, yes, how did you know?"
"It was the costume that gave it away."
"Hmmm."   The busker, dressed in an electric blue jumpsuit with yellow
boots and a yellow musical score across his chest looked at his
(yellow) watch.   "I guess I have a little time before my next
appointment... can I interest you in a coffee?"
"No, thanks, I should hang around here in case mum comes looking for me."
"Oh, well, another time then, er..."
"Mouse."
"Mouse.   Bye now!"
The busker picked up his guitar case and flew off.   Mouse watched him
take off, then bent down and picked up the dropped pick.  "Hey," she
called after him, "You left..."    But he was gone.   The pick was the
same yellow as the boots and had "Guitar Man" etched into it.
"Someone really should teach that guy some style," Mouse muttered,
then continued on her mooching way.

===

WBW bounced into the LNH HQ lobby and flashed a smile at the reception
desk ... but there was no-one there.   She walked across to it and
spotted the note on the desk - "Out getting Elbow Polishers fitted."
A pile of boxes trailed in the door and bumped into a potplant.
"'Scuse me," said the pile, in a suspiciously Mouseish voice, and
moved carefully around the plant to stop beside WBW.

"Darn," said WBW, "I hoped I'd surprise everyone with these."   On her
elbows, polishing manically, were robotic arms with brushes on the
end.   "Um, mum?"   said the pile of boxes, starting to quiver, "this
is really heavy."
"Nonsense dear, carrying that will tone your muscles and give you
nearly a full physical workout, and" ... the pile quivered more
strongly ... "build your portering skills."
"Wargh!" said the pile, and collapsed.   "NO!   Don't let the
perfumerie box hit the plasmic coupler..." said WBW, jumping to
support the pile, but she was too late...
*Boooom*   Fragments of wrapping paper and plasmic perfume sprayed the
lobby.   WBW was thrown backwards by the blast but managed to keep her
feet ... Mouse was shielded by the hosiery and the plasmic driver
(originally intended for attaching to the plasmic coupler, but still
useful for this secondary purpose, as well as providing the chance (as
a tertiary function, it's important to keep track of these things) to
include a pretty big aside in brackets from the narrator) and managed
to escape with merely a small bruise on her left temple, seemingly
unimportant but bound to be brought up later.   An evil looking, nice
smelling, glowing wave of foam cascaded out of the perfumerie/plasmic
coupler conglomeration and spread quickly across the lobby and out the
front doors of LNH HQ to pour down the steps and into the storm drains
of Net.ropolis.   Fred the receptionist, his elbows sparkling with the
polish they were getting, stood in the street outside, his flabber
truly ghasted.

===

Guitar Man sat dejectedly in his secret hideout, and absent-mindedly
stirred the water in his goldfish bowl with his finger.    The lone
goldfish inside scurried for the cover of a plastic castle as dirt
swelled up from the bottom of the bowl, making the water murky.
Unless his busking picked up he was going to be out of rent money and
he'd have to live on the street.   Things seemed to be about as bad as
could be ... if only he could find something heroic to do and get
himself noticed.   Nothing's sadder than a hero with nothing heroic to
do.

===

The glowing green slime cascaded through the storm sewers.   Where it
touched the rats, they grew.   It washed over a very surprised
alligator, and out into the sea.   Behind it, the rats started walking
on their hind legs, and dug for sharp things to hold in their paws...

===

Mouse sat on the steps of LNH HQ, which still smelled faintly of
perfume.   The night was clear and dark and the stars showed well in
the sky.   Behind her, the noise from the drunken revelling of the LNH
'What excuse do we need for a party?' party rattled the windows and
grated her spine... how could these people get drunk when evil might
strike at any moment?   Mouse watched a dark figure sneak out of the
alleyway across the street, looking furtively left and right as though
to check no-one was watching, locking a door behind them, and then
moving onto the pavement.  Mouse readied her powers, in case it was a
villain - but then the figure moved into the light.   "Guitar Man!
Over here," she shouted, standing up.   The figure jumped about 5 feet
in the air in surprise.
"No, Guitar Man over _here_!" he replied, and flew across the street
to land at Mouse's side.   "So you live in an alleyway across the road
from LNH HQ?" asked Mouse, in surprise. 
"Um, no, nowhere near there, my secret hideout is miles and miles
away, on another continent even." replied Guitar Man, unconvincingly.
"Though these LNH'ers make terrible neighbours," he continued, nodding
at the building, "er, if I lived next to them they would, that is."
Mouse found herself liking this curiously confused hero, even despite
his general vagueness.   "Well, I think that the LNH can survive
without me for a little while, how about that coffee?" said Mouse
"Can't stand coffee," said Guitar Man.   "But I'd love a hot chocolate."   
"Let's go."

===

The green slime poured along the bottom of the sea, and into a dip in
the floor of the sea some 30 miles offshore.   It pooled there, and
went unnoticed until the very next morning when the person whose
window it had pooled against opened his curtains.   Initially, he was
not amused.

===

"So how long have you been a hero, GM?" asked Mouse.
"Ever since I was bitten by a radioactive guitar, when I was 6 years old."
"A radioactive guitar?"
"Yep.   Don't ask," said Guitar Man, finishing his chocolate.   "Shall
we go somewhere else?"
"Um.   It's 3am.   Maybe I should go home, Mum might be wondering about me."
"Well ... all right.   But at least let me walk you home," said Guitar
Man, in possibly the best, or worst, decision of his life.

Guitar Man and Mouse walked out of Al's Coffee Shop.   They turned
towards LNH HQ and chatted as they walked.   As they passed the first
alleyway, a ratman jumped into their path and hissed at them,
brandishing a long metal pipe.
"Um," said Guitar Man, "A foe!   Finally!" and charged the rat.   This
surprised Mouse almost as much as it surprised the ratman, which in
turn was almost as much as surprised as Guitar Man was at his action.
"This looks more like a case for an Exterminator to me," said Mouse,
subtly working in a glib witticism that Guitar Man, with his lack of
hero experience, had overlooked.   She tried to remember everything
she'd been taught at self-defence classes, and moved into the melee.
Guitar Man arrived at the ratman at a full run, shoulder first.   The
ratman described a long, flat arc that disappeared into the alleyway.
GM didn't slow down, and followed the path of the ratman.   Mouse ran
after.   "This is definately a bad idea."
GM vanished, with a "Waargh," and then a muffled, "wait a minute - I
can fl--sploosh."   Mouse slowed down, but fell through the manhole
that GM had vanished through anyway.   GM caught her neatly, if wetly.
"Thanks."
"No problem, I'm sure if you were under a manhole I fell through you'd
catch me too."
"Er," said Mouse, looking at Guitar Man's large and well-built frame.  "Sure."
"Excuse me, I'm going to put you down now so I have both hands free to fight."
Mouse appraised the situation.   The storm sewer was dimly lit, but
she could see the reflections of the eyes around here.   There were a
dozen or so ratmen around.   "Sure, be my guest," she replied, "but
not in the wa-glub".   GM dropped Mouse, and hovered a few inches
above the knee-deep water.
"Step up," said GM, spotting the chance - but he was too late, they
already had.   The first ratman swung at GM, connecting firmly with
his ribs.   The armoured suit held nicely and the sharpened pipe
became somewhat bent.   GM hammered his fist on the head of the ratman
and it vanished below the water as Mouse surfaced.   "Why you...".
GM blocked another pipe on his forearm, and kicked the pipe's owner in
the stomach, kneeing it in the face as it doubled over.   "...never
mind," continued Mouse.
"I knew that Karate would come in handy sometime."   A third rat
jumped him from behind, scratching at his face with its claws, but it
was knocked free with a swift elbow and a dirty kick as it went down.
"This is how I really get my kicks."
"You're overdoing it on the witticisms," said Mouse, and ducked.
"Thanks," replied GM, and punched the ratman that had swung at her
with a swift 1-2-3 combo knocking it senseless.
"But you're quite good at fighting."
"Thanks again," said GM, knocking two ratmen's heads together as he
despatched another with a back kick.   "But I'm somewhat pressed
still."   Crunch.   "Oh, wait, that seems to be it."   But he was
wrong, the ratmen were just pulling back, dragging their wounded, and
watching.
"What do we do now?" asked Guitar Man.
"I don't know... this is _your_ story, I saw the title."
"You did?!"
"Yes.   So... What do we do now?"
Guitar Man was saved from having to answer by the appearance of an
8-foot alligator wearing boxing gloves.   "Uhoh," said Mouse.
"You're telling me.   Why do you think they're attacking us, anyway?"
"Don't ask me, I don't write this stuff."
"Um, yeah, and frankly I'm glad.   I mean... an alligator in boxing
gloves...?   Anyway, um, unless you've got some mighty powers to
defeat it I guess I'd better."
"I'm a sidekick forced into a heroish role, I don't have anything mighty."
"OK.   You ... er... cover me."
Guitar Man formed the traditional flying-kick pose, hovering in
mid-air, and accelerated towards the alligator.   "You know," he
called over his shoulder, "I really must adapt more  Karate to
flying."   The ratmen scattered from his path, and the alligator
leaned forward, fists ready, in anticipation of the impact.   Mouse
covered her eyes, but peeked.   "Hoka-Hei!" yelled Guitar Man, and
impacted on the alligator, glancing off its rather large nose and
slamming harder than he would have liked into a wall.   Musical notes
danced around his head as he stood up, and shook it to clear them
away.   "I must remember flight insurance next time."   He looked up,
and the alligator swung a quick left-right-left combo that GM only
just dodged under - and then he struck back, punching the foul beast
in the jaw and scraping skin off his knuckles on its teeth.   But he
had no time to recover, the thing was at him again.   GM blocked the
first punch, forcing the 'gators arm high above his head and reaching
behind its head to grab the spines on its neck.   "Um," said Mouse,
dubiously, but GM was already finishing his move... the 'gator fell
hard, its foot swept neatly and its fall controlled by GM.   "The
Dallas technique.   Gotta love it."   He dropped his knee hard into
the 'gator's ribs, but forgot something that an human opponent
wouldn't usually have.   As the 'gator's tail whipped up, GM noted
that it had a glove on too.   It didn't seem to help the impact any,
he mused, as he flew backwards and landed in the water.   Mouse was
squinting at the 'gator, and Guitar Man wondered if she'd lost a
contact lens.   "I'd love a ratburger... I'd love a ratburger... I'd
love a ratburger..." she seemed to be chanting under her breath.   The
'gator looked confused, then hungry, and then bit one of the ratmen.
The ratmen screeched at this, and jumped on the 'gator en masse.
Mouse slumped, and Guitar Man jumped up to catch her before she hit
the water again.   "Let's get out of here," she said, and GM obliged.
They flew out the manhole and into the night.

===

Mouse awoke in strange surroundings.   The mattress she was lying on
was thin but comfortable.   Posters from all sorts of rock bands lined
the walls, and all the posters were of lead guitarists.   Guitar Man
walked into the room holding a cup of something steaming.
"Hot chocolate?" he asked.
"Please," said Mouse, and sipped it.   "Where are we?"
"This," said GM grandly, "is Guitar Man's Secret Headquarters.   The
bedroom annex.   Base of operations for my crimefighting.   I mean the
Headquarters is the base, not the bedroom."
"I see.   You fight a lot of crime, do you?"
"Well.   Not so far, but I'm working on it.   Take today, for example.
I've already scoured the sewers for clues."
"Find any?"
"Yep... the ratmen all smelled of perfume.   I checked up on that, and
in fact there's a long trail of the smell right through the sewers.
It leads from the sea all the way to LNH HQ, I figure whatever made
that smell came in from the ocean and intends to attack LNH HQ from
underneath.   I tried to explain this to the receptionist but he
refused to believe me.   The whole reception area smelt of perfume.
I'm developing smell-blockers and tracers on my computer as we speak."
Mouse took this in silently, put together the pieces, and explained.
"Close.   The perfume smell is from a plasmic mass that flowed into
the sewers from LNH HQ yesterday.    It must have flowed out into the
sea.   If it changed the rats like that, who knows what it could do to
the sealife."   Mouse looked at her watch - 8am.   "I've been asleep
for 5 hours?"
"I guess about that."   Mouse noted the dark rings under GM's eyes.
"Did you get any sleep last night?"
"Evil never sleeps, and good's supposed to be ever-vigilant... but I
ran out of NoDoz.   I'm pretty tired."   GM smiled.   "I'll be OK."
"I need to get home, how do I get there?"
"This location is secret, I'll have to blindfold you and fly you there."

===

Officer O'Malley wandered past LNH HQ on his rounds.   The building
itself smelt suspiciously perfumed but who knows what those heros were
up to.   He stopped and watched a figure open a door in the alleyway
across the street, and walk out awkwardly with a smaller figure in its
arms.   The first figure locked the door and then flew out into the
street and picked up speed.   Just before it hit LNH HQ, the
now-visibly blue figure made a 90 degree left turn and accelerated
down the street.   It looped around the block 4 or 5 times, visible
only as a blue blur, before finally slowing down and landing on LNH HQ
steps.   Officer O'Malley hurried down the street, whistling nonchalantly.
"And here we are," said Guitar Man, depositing Mouse at the top of the
(perfumed) steps and removing her blindfold.   "Three quarters of the
way around the world in less than a minute.   Pretty good, huh?"
"Hmmm," said Mouse, suspiciously - noting the lack of timezone change
and also the city noises heard all the time during the flight.
"Well, thanks..."
"Bye now" said Guitar Man, and waved, flying off into the sky.
Mouse hid in the foyer and peeked out... about 5 minutes later GM
descended carefully into the street, checking for anyone watching, and
then ducked into the alleyway.   As Mouse turned she heard a door
bang, and smiled.

===

Guitar Man lay stretched out on his bed, dreaming of electric chords
and shiny jumpsuits and snoring heavily.

===

Somewhere else, someone dripped green glowing perfumed stuff out of a
test-tube into a glass tank containing a frog and giggled.   The frog
twisted, and moved, and grew...

===


Coming in Guitar Man #2:
   Captain Nome The Dyslexic and his legions of fishmen!
   101 Ways to fight underwater!
   Several bad puns!
And of course, the Star of our show:
   Guitar Man.

Guitar Man is copyright me - Campbell "Sasquatch" March
(bigfoot@akeake.its.vuw.ac.nz)

WBW and Mouse are copyright Jessica Ihimaera-Smiler (jaelle@mu.sans.vuw.ac.nz)

Anyone who wants to make any sort of comment, please feel free.   I've
got a fairly resilient ego, and it's hard to crush.   But if by some
odd turn of chance, you actually enjoy this, please say so too...