49) --- At The Dance -------------------------------------------------- "Da daa, da da da, da-da da da da; da daa, da da da, dadaaa da da daa; Da da, da da da, da daaa da da da da da da da, daaa, daaa, daaa, daa-- da da de da de da de da de da de da..." -- The Muppet Show TUESDAY, MAY 3 Life was going great for Philip. Life was going _reaaaaaalllyyy_ great for Philip. Actually, the end of the semester was turning out to be something short of hell. First of all, he still needed to finish up his Honors term paper for tomorrow evening's class. The 15 page paper about Stonehenge. The _astronomical_ significance of Stonehenge. It wasn't like there wasn't enough about it; there _was_, and trying to sort through it all to find what was worthwhile was taxing. Second of all, he was desperately trying to finish his Cmsc projects. Both of them. One of them in lisp, and the other handwritten. And considering that the lisp program was a database, and the written assignment about virtual memory, he wasn't really happy about either. Third, he needed to study for his upcoming Math 241 exam, because if he didn't, he just might get a C in the class-- or worse! Trying to organize a world-class fighting force to defend the free world in his spare time wasn't helping much, either. So it was that Philip was finding that he was spending a _lot_ of his free time in whatever computer lab was handy, trying to do at least five things at once and not doing too well at any of them. "Philip?" Gordo asked as he sat down next to Philip and logged in. "Yeahwuhhuh?" Philip responded, clearly communicating (the _only_ thing that came through clearly) that even though it was only 5:30 in the afternoon, he was ready for a week of sleep and relaxation. "Weren't you going to take Aerianne to that banquet tonight?" "Yeah, I... was... OH, SHIT!" Philip blurted, prompting several of the other lab users to look at him and ask him to be quiet as his brain regained operational status much too quickly for his liking, not to mention his discretion, as he shoved everything of his into his backpack and darted out the door. Gordo was kind enough to log him out of the NeXTstation after he left. Philip straightened his tie one last time, gulped twice, prayed to the gods that Aeri wouldn't be upset that he was late, and opened her suite door. There was nobody there. "Uh, is anyone here?" Philip asked out loud. "Just a second!" Aeri's voice could be heard from inside her room. "I'll be right out!" Philip released the breath he was holding. He wasn't late after all! He smiled, and sat on the living room sofa to wait. After what seemed to be a half hour (but was actually two minutes), Philip heard Aeri's door open, and he got up and made himself presentable. And almost had a heart attack. "GaHE!" Philip's eyes almost (but not quite) bugged out, and his jaw fell open with an almost audible THUD. What was Aerianne wearing? Well, let us put it this way: on Urd, it would look good. On Aeri, it looked _stunning_. "Well, Philip, what do you think?" Aeri asked with an earnest smile. "Philip?" she asked again, and she waved her hand in front of his face. No response. "Phiiilluuup?" she asked once more, this time with more... emphasis. Nothing. she ruefully thought to herself. She went up to him, took his head in her hands, and gave him a long kiss. Philip's eyes blinked suddenly, and he began to return the kiss. Satisfied that he was among the living again, she gently broke it off. "Ahhheheh," Philip said with a sigh. "So, are you going to zone out on me again?" she said with a rueful smile as she stepped back to give him some breathing room. "Do _I_ look like an 6-foot-6 wedge rat to you?" Philip said mock- accusingly, which prompted Aeri to giggle. "An angsting starship captain on _parade_? A cyberpunked netrunner from BGC here to _amuse_ you? Is that what I look like to you?" "No! No, not at all!" she said with barely-contained mirth. "I just asked are you going to zone out on me!" "Alright, THAT'S IT!" he exclaimed with a serious tone and a wide grin. "_I'll_ give you 'zone out'!" And with that, he caught her in a tickle attack. "Come--HAHAHAHAHAHA-_on_, Philip!--HAHAHAHA-We've got to get to the banquet!" she said between breaths of air. "No we don't," Philip replied, almost hyperventilating from his laughter. "Yes, we _must_," Aeri said as she calmed down and picked herself off the floor. "Oh, _alright_," he said ruefully as she pulled him up and dusted him off. "If we _must_..." "Comeon!" she said with a smile as she pulled him out of the suite. Getting to the banquet at Tawes was an... interesting experience, to say the least. Philip counted at _least_ 10 auto accidents on the way, and he could have _sworn_ that some cameras and glasses had shattered from "overexposure". Fortunately, no one seemed to be hurt, although he couldn't _begin_ to approximate how many SO's were currently pounding on their boyfriend's heads with frying pans, rolling pins, and other blunt objects. But finally, they reached the theatre building, and Philip escorted Aerianne inside with a smile. The theme for the banquet that year was 'Masquerade'; and seeing as the majority of attendees were theatre majors, that meant that many of them were wearing masks of their own design and construction. There were several extravagantly feathered masks, while others sparkled and gleamed from the amount of glitter and sparkly stuff on them. Philip had made his mask to look like a Muppet, while Aerianne had opted for a deep iridescent blue mask that went with her dress. However, everyone had to agree that Grady took the show with his Babboon-head mask. As people entered Tawes, they also chose their seats at the tables set up onstage. Philip and Aeri ended up at a table inhabited by mostly techies, while other groups of actors and staff formed as well. But it wasn't like everyone was being elitist; it's just that people were sitting with the people they'd came with. But since everyone in the department knew each other from classes and shows, it made choosing a seat a little bit difficult. The format for the Theater banquet was the same as it always had been since the beginning of recorded time. Two of the actors from the past year's productions acted as MC's, presenting the awards and also bantering, while also subtly parodying the productions they were in (although the thought of Alan Mingo in a Torchsinger's dress is hardly subtle). Between the awards, various other students had prepared pieces for performance, and they were well-received. Also, the seniors were given one final sendoff with the presentation of the roses. But finally, the last award was presented, the last rose given; and then, everyone got up, and with years of techie experience, cleaned off the tables and shifted them to the side of the stage. And now it was time to DANCE!!! Philip stood by the fly rail as the DJ began to crank up some sort of canadian techno. He watched the others as they jammed to the beat, and he sighed to himself. He then glanced towards Aerianne, who was approaching. "Why aren't you dancing?" Aeri asked as she removed her heels to make it easier for her to dance. "It looks like fun!" Philip embarrassingly replied, "Uhh... well, I never did like this techno stuff, and I never was much of a dancer anyway. If they played something I _liked_, perhaps..." Philip's head perked up as the voice of Arethra Fraklin began to play over the speakers, talking about "RESPECT" and what it meant to her. "Yeah, something like _that_ would do," Philip said with a smile as he took Aerianne's hand and lead her to the dance floor. There wasn't really much dancing to be done with a song like RESPECT, but considering that these were theatre majors, they improvised quite handily. Once the song was done, the DJ went onto some more rappish type stuff, and Philip withdrew from the floor for a breather. Aeri, on the other hand, opted to stay in the middle of the dance, and Philip got a good look at the way she moved. You almost couldn't tell that _she_ had never danced either (It had come as a (slight) surprise to Philip that Aerianne had never danced before). He sighed as he took another sip of punch. Philip thought ruefully. Philip was about to resign himself to the fact that he may not end up dancing for the rest of the night, when the DJ put in AC/DC. "You shook me all night long", to be precise. With a wide grin, he joined the dancing mob. After AC/DC, the DJ played some Counting Crows ("Mr Jones") and then some Spin Doctors ("Two Princes"). As that song neared the end, Aeri managed to breathe/yell into Philip's ear as they danced, "So, you were saying?" "I take it back, Aeri! I take it _all_ back!!" he replied as they jammed to the beat. They both slowed as the song ended. "But I do think it'd be a good time to--" Philip's words were cut off as the Extremely Loud and Rough guitar intro of Pearl Jam's "Even Flow" rocked across the stage. All thoughts of quitting left Philip's mind as he exclaimed "YES!!!" and pumped his fist in the air, before getting down to the task of playing heavy metal air guitar. Aerianne just backed out of his way with a smile. This _was_ one of his favorite songs, after all. Finally, exhausted, the song finished, Philip managed to make his way to the punch bowl and get a drink. Aerianne soon joined him, and they watched those who were left continue to boogie. Philip grinned as Aeri took a sip of punch. "So, whadja think?" he said between breaths, totally exhausted and enjoying every minute of it. "I _loved_ it," Aerianne said as she put the punch down, and took him in a gentle embrace, "but can I convince you to join me for one more dance?" "Well, I don't know..." Philip was about to say, but then the DJ changed music once again. "Yeah, I think you can," he grinned as they made their way back to the dance floor, arm-in-arm. <<>> 50) --- Draft Dealings ------------------------------------------------ "I want *you* for the United States Army." -- Uncle Sam SUNDAY, MAY 8 A couple of days ago, Philip had sent out an email message to everyone he could think of: the Blair mailing list, the WST mailing list, plus all the addresses in his address book. The message was simple. It described the current situation, including references to what had happened before, and it included a request to forward the message to others who would possibly be interested. Philip wasn't expecting much to come of this tactic; if someone you hadn't seen in a year (or maybe more) all of a sudden asked _you_ to help him fight against the forces of evil, you wouldn't believe him, right? At most, you'd ask yourself what drug the sender was on. Even so, Philip had to try. The "Terrapin Corps" were severely understaffed as it was; and reports on FOWL's strengths put them in the hundreds, maybe even thousands. Not an even battle, in the least. So Philip found himself once again checking his mail folder, to see if anyone had replied. He brought up an xterm and waited. rac2> mail Mail version 2.18 5/19/83. Type ? for help. "/afs/wam.umd.edu/usr11/pmoyer/Maildrop/pmoyer": 35 messages 33 new Philip blinked. "This can't be right," he muttered. Aerianne, who was working at another computer, noted his concerned expression and came over. "What's wrong, Philip?" Aeri said as she looked at his terminal window. "Look at the number of messages," he replied. Aerianne did so, and commented, "So? You usually don't delete your messages... so why should that bother you?" "I deleted them yesterday. These are all new." Aeri looked at the screen again. "Ah. Have you read them yet?" "No, but I'm about to," he said, as he returned his attention to the screen. Aerianne, seeing that his attentions were drawn elsewhere, sighed, and returned to her machine. Philip continued to read the email replies in silence. This was _not_ good. They were all in the _affirmative_. "Philip?" "huhwah?" Philip groggily replied. "Weren't you going to make that speech to the TAS meeting tonight?" "Yeah..." Philip sat up. "And let me guess, the meeting's soon. Really Soon. As in, say, 15 minutes or less, right?" Aerianne just nodded. "Thought so." By the later portion of the meeting, as was usual for most TAS meetings, the attendance had dwindled significantly. There remained only about the 30 or 40 truly diehard, dedicated anime fans that would congregate in the Hornbake Library through anything short of nuclear fallout or a discount sale at Tower Records & Video. Philip had just finished his recruitment spiel, and looked out to the audience expecting to see one or two tentative hands rise into the air. As the volunteers announced themselves, Philip began counting his new recruits. "One... two... three... four... lots." Philip turned to Aerianne with a plaintive, almost-whining look on his face. "HELP!" Philip's recruitment session had to end rather abruptly. After all, Philip had just fainted to the floor. The doors swung open to let Philip and Aerianne out into the night air. Philip was still half-stumbling (and Aerianne was more than happy to provide support; after all, she had just finished the mouth-to-mouth about a half-an-hour ago -- ["Mouth-to-mouth for fainting?!?!" I hear you cry. Well, you do what you gotta do... -Ed.] But we digress. "Aeri, before this evening, my life at least had _some_ hope of being non-stressful. But now, HOW IN HELL AM I GOING TO FIND **50** CYCLONES IN UNDER A MONTH??!!!!" Aerianne grabbed Philip's shoulders in an effort to stop them shaking. "Philip, _calm down_. We'll find a way." "Yeah, riiiight Aeri," he grumbled, letting the night air cool him down. At least, cool him down physically. His brain was working overtime on how to juggle his social life, his academic life, and his suddenly-created military life. As Aerianne and Philip walked back to their dorm, he continued to think out loud on this little..."conundrum" that reality (not Vaughn) had handed him. "I can't ask Rufus to build us more, because I've already got him working on the Legios; Lugnutz is still modifying the cyclones we _already_ have; Gordo's got his _own_ project he's working on, and 'can't be disturbed'...." he trailed off as he ran out of people who were technically proficient enough to build transformable power armor. "Couldn't we buy some?" Aeri asked earnestly. Philip gave her a perfect "Are you KIDDING me?!" look. "Yeah, riiiight, Aeri. We'll just go down to our nearest Kawasaki dealer and ask them if they have the latest cyclones in, how much they cost, and if they can come in a nice shiny red," he added sarcastically. "Well, I wasn't thinking about going to a car dealer..." Aerianne began to say. "But you know somewhere we can," Philip cut her off, knowing what would come next. "Well, I do..." Aerianne continued with a exasperated sigh. "Ok... but I know I'm gonna regret this..." MONDAY, MAY 9 VERY _EARLY_ MONDAY MORNING "" "Stop that , you'll make me yawn too... damn." "Don't say I didn't warn you," Philip said with a half-hidden smile as he and Aerianne stood outside the Engineering Lab building in the cool morning air. "Well, you didn't, so how could I've been warned?" Aeri said as she turned towards him. Philip just shrugged in apology, and then turned his attention to the large tarp-covered mounds that dotted the parking lot next to the Lab building. "You've got everything?" "Lesse... tryptik, bag of snacks, cooler of cokes, study guides, your backpack and books, _my_ backpack and books (not that either'll be helpful), your tapes and a couple of my CD's.... looks like it, yeah." "What about sleeping bags, pillows, and change of clothes?" "They're right next to me," Aerianne said as she checked. "You know, it was awfully nice of your parents to rush over all this stuff for us." "You're telling me? I was surprised that they'd even _do_ that for me, _especially_ since I'm due home in a week." Philip added to himself. The two stood there a little longer in silence. "You ready?" Aeri asked softly. Philip said nothing, but just nodded. He stepped forward towards the center of the covered piles, and taking a deep breath, pressed the block on a string around his neck. For a moment, nothing happened. And then, something _did_ happen. A rustling sound, quiet at first, began to build below the tarps. Then the tarps began to shift and shudder, as if the wind was blowing them, even thought there was no breeze. Before Philip could move or Aerianne could speak, the tarps suddenly _erupted_, spilling forth their brightly-colored contents in a rainbow of sizes, shapes, and colors as they converged on Philip's location. Philip wasn't able to get a word in edgewise as the millions of enhanced plastic pieces lifted him up in a whirlwind of color and shapes. The whirlwind began to steady as the LEGO around his neck began to relay thoughts and images to the bricks around him. Arms and Legs began to form above and below him, while the torso and chest sealed him in. More bricks began to cover what already existed, strengthing the armor and making it more massive. A final layer of red and blue LEGOs, as well as various other colors for accents, finalized the process. Aerianne took a step back to look up. And up. And up some more. From above, the blue masked head looked back down at her. She had never seen the activation process in action before (before, in Worcester, she had only seen the 'shapings' of the armor, not the individual activations of its component parts), and quite frankly, she was a little worried. "Aa..are you ok?" Aerianne managed to say. "Yeah, pretty much," Philip's voice replied from the red and blue mech. "It's really murder to try to stuff yourself in an engine compartment, though." Aeri couldn't help but smile at this. "Well, are you ready to roll out?" she asked as she began to pick up their stuff. "Hey, that's _my_ line!" Philip's voice smiled as he transformed. SEVERAL HOURS LATER (4, TO BE EXACT) Pennsylvania. Pittsburgh, to be exact. And Trevor Schadt was waiting on the steps of Hamerschlag Hall, wondering for the 1,024th time that day how Philip had talked him into this. He had gotten a phone call from him just the day before, telling him of the current situation, and that he was planning to come up to get his help. He had added that packing an overnight bag would be a good idea. Trevor was quite engrossed in grumbling to himself. After all, it was Monday, and he had not one, but TWO final exams that day: CompSci 211 and Modern Math. He was expecting either an A or a B in each class, depending on where the grading curves fell, and, of course, that was assuming he was going to be at the exams. "And knowing Phil," Trevor muttered, abruptly switching from thinking to himself to talking to himself, "I think the chances of that just went significantly down." As he was finishing this last, slightly vindictive, thought, his good friend Matt Andrews walked down the length of the Mall towards him. "Hey, Trev!" Matt called as he reached the steps of Schlag Hall. "All ready for the exams today?" Matt, being a fellow ECE major and wannabe computer scientist, shared most of his classes with Trevor that semester. Trevor's response was a low moan. "That confident, huh?" Matt answered with a smirk. "Not exactly. My friend Philip told me he'd meet me here this morning." "Where's he coming from?" "Maryland." Blinkblink. "Exactly." "Now wait a sec. You've got two exams today!" "I know. I tried to tell him that, but he said it was important, and when Philip says something's important like he said this was important, he means _IMPORTANT_. I might have to miss the exams. And if that happens, I might have to hurt him." "Ouch. Kinda sucks to be you, doesn't it?" Since Trevor was still ranting (and Matt was playing the role of sounding-board), they didn't notice a Tractor-trailer pull in front of the doom. And it was only until Aerianne got out of the passenger's side door, hopped to the ground, and walked up to the steps that Trevor finally noticed her. "...I mean, I've got a--- Hello, _Nurse_!" he said as he turned around. Matt stood up as well, and looked at this redheaded vision of loveliness in front of him. "Well, hel-LO!" he whistled appreciatively, glancing around quickly to see if his girlfriend was anywhere in sight. She wasn't. Grin. Aeri moaned to herself. But she put on her best smile, and asked, "Well Trev, are you ready?" Trevor discarded the first fifteen responses that came to his mind, and simply said "yep" as he picked up his bag. he asked himself. But before he could ask Aerianne, Mark interrupted them. "Waitaminute... You two _know_ each other?" Matt asked incredulously. he thought. "Well, in a way..." Aeri said halfheartedly, but Trevor interrupted her with a "Yes!" "Ahhh, I understand," Matt said with a smile. "It's not like that at all!!" Aeri exclaimed, before realizing that she had just sounded like Philip before they had declared their love for each other. She couldn't help smiling at this, which (of course) Matt took as confirmation of his suspicions. "yeah. Riiiiighhhttt..." Matt grinned. "Say, where's Philip?" Trevor finally got a chance to ask. "Oh, he's here," she said pointedly. "and I don't think he'll be happy about this..." "I don't see anyone," Matt commented, trying to be helpful, quite sure now that Aeri was a little around the bend in the mental department. "No, he's over _there_," she said, pointing to the Tractor-Trailer. Trevor finally noticed what _type_ of truck that Aeri had arrived in, and started backing away. "Oh, so he's in the truck?" Matt was not convinced. Behind him, Trevor groaned. He knew what was going to come next. "No, he _is_ the truck." "Philip," Trevor asked, unable to keep the grin off his face, "_why_ are you a truck?" "BECAUSE I COULDN'T FIND ANYTHING IN A SIZE 5," a voice announced. "HAPPY???" "HAHAHAHAHAH!" Matt started laughing. This was too much!! "Aw, comeon! You expect me to believe that your friend's currently _inside_ that reject from a cartoon series?!!" "YES," Philip's voice boomed from the truck, and before Matt could get out any more wisecracks or shocked expressions, the red and blue tractor separated from the grey trailer and transformed, shifting its components until it stood a good 30 feet or more. "T-t-t-that's Philip?!" Matt stuttered out. "Yep," Aerianne smiled as she walked towards the LEGO construct. "So, how's it going, Big Guy?" she asked, patting its blue leg. "Oh, alright," the blue and silver head said with a smile (?). "Mind if I get out for a while?" "Sure, go ahead!" she said, stepping back a bit. The mech stood there for a bit, and then the entire engine compartment separated and fell to the ground, transforming as it did so into a person in an evil-looking power armor. It glowered at Matt and Trevor for a little bit, and then turned to Aeri. "Do you think we can trust these two?" "Yeah," she giggled. "I doubt they'll give us any more problems." The two in question nodded dumbly. Philip snorted a laugh, and then nodded. "Gotcha. Lemme get out of this thing." And just to make matters even more confusing for Trevor, Matt, and any other CMU students who where just passing by, the power armor "exploded" into its component pieces, leaving a 6-2.5, thin, bespectacled college student in it's place. "Ahh, that feels _MUCH_ better," Philip said, stretching out his various joints. "Need any help?" Aeri asked, coming closer. "No, don't need any for the joints, but a hug would be nice," he smiled. They did so, kissing as well, and in the process blowing Matt's mind. Philip released the kiss, and walked towards Trev, who was mumbling to himself. "Um, trev?" "Yeah?" Trevor said, still preoccupied. "Which way to the little autobot's room?" Once Philip had relieved himself, and Trevor had said his goodbyes for the day, Philip formed the armor around himself and made a power leap towards the torso of the mech. It transformed to Tractor-Trailer mode while Aerianne helped Trevor to the curb with his stuff. (Not that he _needed_ help, it was just that he wasn't so stupid to refuse Aeri's offer.) As the two climbed into the cab, Trevor commented, "Why aren't we _flying_ to WPI?" "Two reasons," Aerianne stated as she moved over to the center seat. "The first is, we found out that FOWL was tracking us by our engine emissions, so we're effectively groundbound until we can figure out a way to mask it." Trevor nodded as he closed the passenger door and tried to find a seatbelt, and then did a double take when he realized what she had said. "Second," Philip's voice became audible as the tractor trailer began to rev up and pull away from the dorm, "Even if we _could_ use the Suburban, it doesn't have the cargo capacity that we need." "Wait a second... _cargo_? What the hell are we trying to get?" "Sixty Cyclones." "Sixty Cyclones. Ayep, Philip's gone off the deep end, you know that, Aeri? Definitely, yah, yah, definitely gone..." Trevor muttered to Aerianne. "Watch it, Trevor," Aeri replied, nonplussed. "He's the sanest person I know." "Then why's he still crammed into the engine compartment instead of actually -driving- this thing?" Trevor commented nonchalantly. Aerianne blinked, at a loss for words. Philip's voice, however, was heard to go "D'OH!" After Philip managed to extract himself out of the engine compartment, they began the drive towards Massachusetts. Trevor, Philip, and Aerianne arrived in Worcester about 9 hours later. They stumbled out of the construct, Philip slowly letting the LEGOs "dissolve" into a formless pile of plastic pieces. "I _never_ want to do that again!" Philip managed to gasp. "Alright, Philip, where can we crash?" Trevor asked. The drive had taken a lot more out of them than they had originally thought it would. "Well," Philip started, "I thought we'd probably just stop by Megazone's apartment -- " "We _don't_ want to do that, Phil," Trevor interrupted. Philip managed to summon a vestige of an insulted look. "And _why_ not?" Trevor looked at him over the top of his glasses. "First of all, do you know where it is?" "Well, um, no..." "Second of all, I don't think anyone in this town is too pleased with us, considering what we did last time we were here..." "D'OH!" Needless to say, the threesome proceeded to the nearest motel. Trevor went up to the desk and asked for a double room, but Aerianne sidled past him and remarked, "Change that to a two-room suite." "Aerianne, we don't have enough money to pay for two rooms," Trevor reminded her. Aerianne got a triumphant grin on her face and slapped a small plastic card down on the table. The desk attendant, raising his eyebrows at Trevor, took the card and began to ring up the transaction. Philip joined the other two at the desk. "Aeri, you've got a credit card? When'd you get a job?" Aerianne got a blank look on her face as she turned to look at Philip. "Job?" 51) --- One-Stop Shopping --------------------------------------------- "Chaaaaaarge It!" -- The Song of the American Consumer TUESDAY, MAY 10 The next day the three proceeded, well-rested (and now well-armed with a map!), to Spags. Parking was an adventure in and of itself, especially since the lot didn't have enough space for the cars it _did_ have, never mind a 50 ft plus Tractor-trailer built out of LEGOs. Philip ended up having to split the construct into several smaller vehicles, and then find parking spaces for each one of them. However, finally, the three made their way to the front door of Spags, though admittedly a bit out of breath due to the hike. Pushing through the front doors, they allowed the air-conditioned breeze to cool them for a little bit, before trudging on. "Philip," Aerianne said with a glint of recollection, "you remember the glossary at the back of UF2, right?" "Yeah..." Philip responded with the sound of "What are you getting at?" in his voice. "'They have everything,'" Aeri started quoting from the Undocumented Features stories, "'if you don't mind hunting through eight acres of kipple to find it.'" Aerianne pointed to a large pile of assorted junk taking up a rather large of floor space. "Wouldn't you say that's about 8 acres?" Philip was liking this idea less and less. "Yeah..." "Have fun." The group (band? troupe? conglomeration? motley crue - er - crew?) separated, deciding that each member would explore one third of the phenomenon that was Spags. Philip took the northeast corner. There would have been labels to accompany that nomenclature, indicating what could be found in "aisle number one," but the nice thing about Spags was that not even the people who worked at Spags knew what was even _in_ the store, not to mention where they were. There weren't even _aisles_ as one would find in a supermarket, but weird cul-de-sacs, short stairways, and ramps that led all over the place. To an experienced gamer, it almost resembled a twisted version of DOOM, except for the fact that there weren't any Imps, Demons, or Cacadamons running around, and that the Shores of the Dead didn't have vacuum cleaners or sand toys. It was in this situation that these three members of the Terrapin Corps found themselves. Philip looked through a supposedly promising section, carelessly discarding objects that were not immediately relevant to their objective. "Hmm... let's see... Binky the Clown? No... the Clothman diamond? No..." Meanwhile, Trevor, to the south, was having about the same amount of success. "Superman #1... (ooh, signed!) No... live talking squid... (hey, get offa me!) No... zero-gee basketball set... No..." Aerianne was currently ensconced in another section of the store, more to the west. "Eye of newt... No... Toe of frog... No... (hmm, I'm sensing a pattern here) Wool of bat... Ewww, no... Tongue of dog... Oh _gods_, this is disgusting..." They had managed to work through about six sections of Spags, meeting with limited success ("Boomerang... No... ... Ouch!"), when Philip's cry of victory rang throughout the store. "YYYYYYYYYYEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!" Trevor and Aerianne quickly joined Philip in another section (which was laid out like a circuit board), where he was currently drooling over a whole row of folded-up Cyclones. "Cool find, Phil," Trevor said. "But, Philip," he added after peering at the label, "what exactly is 'protoculture' and how are we going to get some?" Philip had a helpless look on his face as he sheepishly replied, "Uh... start looking again?" "Grrr..." Trevor mumbled as he kept searching through the store, finding even more unusable and unbelievable stuff in the annals of Spags. "Hmm... 5 pound shotput... 10 pound shotput... 100.. pound.. urk.. shotput.. OY!" he exclaimed as he managed to unload the 100-pound shotput onto the floor. Right on top, in fact, of the squid that had been tagging along behind Trevor for the last 30 minutes. The squid complained for the following 10 minutes before it gave up and quieted down. Trevor and Philip, having heard Aerianne's cry that she had found protoculture, hurried toward where her voice had originated. "Philip, are you getting cold?" "You know, now that I think about it, I am getting a little bit chilly... oh no. No, no, it can't be..." It was. Aerianne proudly handed Philip a case of protoculture that she had just found, sitting next to the Ben & Jerry's Ice Cream. The threesome somehow managed to cart 60 cyclones and their associated protoculture to one of Spags four front check-out aisles. (They had managed to find some heavy-duty industrial carts next to the Connection Machine 4's and the Onyx^2 Reality Engines.) Unfortunately, the search for the shortest line landed them right behind the middle-aged man purchasing the blue whale and the week's worth of whale food. In other words, they were in for a long wait. Philip took advantage of the sudden lack of activity to assess their ability to pay for all their acquisitions, or lack thereof. Aerianne quickly and calmly assuaged their fears by whipping out her credit card. "Say, Aeri," Philip finally managed to stammer, " what's the credit limit on that card, anyway?" "Oh, about ... $500 billion, I think. I'm not entirely sure." "Ahm ... there an expiration date on that thing?" Aerianne glanced at the card, somewhat curious herself. "Looks like ... November 3159." "....." It is with this confidence that the three consumers got into line. This same confidence was subsequently shattered when the cashier sternly informed them that Spags only took cash. No Credit Cards. No Personal Checks. No "Funny Foreign Bills". Just _Cash_. Aerianne was about to explain to the cashier (in a suitably forceful way) that there was no way in _hell_ that they could pay that amount of money in cash, when Philip came up beside her and took her hand in his. "Aerianne, I think I saw an automatic teller outside, across from the parking lot," Philip said as he guided/dragged Aeri towards the exit. As the doors closed, Trevor could hear Philip say: "Be sure to keep our place!" Trevor looked at the small mountain of compact-mode Cyclones and sighed. "Not that we're going anywhere anyway..." Aeri slid in the Credit Card, entered her PIN, and then waited for a bit as the teller's computer digested the data. "Um, Aeri?" "Yeah?" she replied, distracted. "The teller's got a hundred dollar limit. Per day." "No problem... Rufus' taught me a few tricks..." So saying, she typed the code for cash withdrawal, but before it could bring up the next screen, she began to type out a long string of digits and option buttons. The teller bleeped in the way that only an autoteller with indigestion can bleep, and then fell silent for a few seconds. "'Access Denied'?!?" Aerianne exclaimed. Philip couldn't help but smirk. "Figures..." Aeri had a particularly dark look as she glanced at Philip, and then turned back to the autoteller. As she typed with one hand, she also reached for her hip and grasped the hilt of her Sword. "Now, _computer_," she muttered as she continued to type, "I. Need. money. If you _don't_ give me the money, do you know what I'm going to do?" The teller's computer bleeped questioningly. "If you don't give me the money, I will _reprogram_ you. The _HARD_ way..." As she said this, she drew her Sword, making sure that the teller's security minicam could see it clearly. "Do we _understand_ one other?" The computer bleeped the affirmative, and then began to empty its bill reserves as Aeri smiled and stuffed the money into her wallet. "Thank you!" she positively beamed at the Teller. It chirped happily, and then the 'CLOSED' sign snapped down. "Thank you, 'Zaphod Beeblebrox'," Philip muttered as the two proceeded to the next teller down the block. Once Aerianne managed to "convince" the other three tellers nearby to avail themselves of their cash reserves, they returned to Spags with enough money to pay for 26 Battler Cyclones, 20 Saber Cyclones, and 14 Lite Combat Cyclones, plus ten six-packs of Protoculture. (Actually, there wasn't -enough- cash to pay for it all-- Philip and Aeri ended up emptying their wallets to make the final payment, and Philip ended up asking Trevor for twenty five dollars and twelve cents to handle the rest of the tax) As the three made their way to the parking lot where Philip had rebuilt the LEGO-Optimus Prime truck for loading, Philip continued to wonder at Aerianne's wondrous credit card. "Y'know, you could almost pay off the national debt with that." Aerianne's trademark smile emerged onto her face. "Sorry, dear... the government doesn't take plastic."