From: "D.S." This is my birthday present to Liz, to commemorate her turning 14 on March 18th . . . some of you may have, erhhmm . . . an "earlier edition" of this story, but this is the only one I'd prefer publicized, thank you. ::grin:: Archivers: If you like it, take it! Rating: PG -- *VERY* mild bad language in only one instance Disclaimer: All MLers own themselves. The Vengaboys are owned by Breakin' Records, a label of Violent Music. Ani DiFranco is owned by no one. Category: ML, H THE REAL ADVENTURES OF LIZ FAVORITO "We Like To Party!" also known as "Happy Birthday, Liz!" Part I Dedicated to my bestest-est-est-est online buddy and partner in crime! Special thanks to Dana for various creative plot elements. ^_^ written by Dark Sentinel Oh, was Liz excited! Tomorrow was her birthday, and, even though she was almost positive that her parents hadn't planned anything, there was something "electric" in the air. All the world seemed tensed and ready to spring, like an animal with its ears up and listening. Something was BOUND to happen. Liz practically danced home from school, bursting in the door with a loud, "I'M HOME!", and dumping all her books in a rather unsightly pile at the foot of the stairs. She immediately trotted into the kitchen, grabbed a box of Kix, and plopped down in front of the computer. After several agonizing hours of waiting for AOHell to load, the slick little digital voice chirped, "Welcome!", followed by, "You've got mail!" moments later. Liz opened up her e-mail program and sifted through the usual six hundred ads for porn sites. Nestled between "FOR ADULTS ONLY" from CumNGetIt5, and "hot hot hot" from Cindy69, was an innocent-looking little e-mail from D.S. Liz clicked on it and scanned over the message: To: LizFav@aol.com From: ackcor@erols.com Subject: HOLY PIECES OF COW YOU HAFTA READ THIS Date: Wed, 17 Mar 1999 12:01:30 -0500 (GMT) Hey biiiiiiiiiiiiiotch!!! You're not going to believe this! Mike Green, yeah, you know, THE one and only, from the ML? He has gone on an absolute rampage! I dunno how exactly he did it, but he got the snail-mail addresses of all the MLers and is storming the country destroying our hometowns. Prolly hacked every MLers ISP database to get the info. Ani-ways, he's targeted the mediators first! (Eek!) It was decided by general and VERY fast consensus that we should convene in New York and decide what to do. The fate of the ML rests upon us! Meet me and the other mediators on the 57th floor of the Empire State building tomorrow at noon. My *other* friend Liz's dad has an office there which he has generously donated to us for the day while we formulate our strategy. This guy's armed and dangerous! Call me sometime before 8AM tomorrow morning if you have any questions, because after that, I'm outtie. It's not safe to stay in our homes ani-more . . . --Darkie P.S. Bring any nuclear weapons you were hoarding for your attack on Joost's hometown in the Netherlands . . . we'll need ‘em. P.P.S. Happy birthday! (*er-herr?*) A glob of Kix was stuck to her teeth; all grinding had ceased. Liz blinked her saucer-sized eyes. Was this some kind of a joke? The urgency in the e-mail sounded real. Liz stood up without even deleting the e-mail and galloped off down the hall and up the stairs. "Mom? I need a ride to New York!" ________________________________________________________________ Will Liz get to New York? How? What will New York be like for a Massachusetts native? Will all the crisp businesspeople scare her away? Will she get lost in Times Square? Will she make it to the Empire State Building? ARE ALL THESE QUESTIONS GETTING ANNOYING?! Find out all the answers and more in Part II of Liz's birthday fic, coming soon, to a mailbox near you . . . --Dark Sentinel ------------------------------------------------------------------------ If you like orange and blue, then you will love our new web site! http://www.onelist.com Onelist: Fostering connections and information exchange From: "D.S." THE REAL ADVENTURES OF LIZ FAVORITO "We Like To Party!" also known as "Happy Birthday, Liz!" Part II written by Dark Sentinel Liz ascended the steps of Penn Station and blinked owlishly in the bright sunlight. What a great way to spend one's birthday morning! Cooped up in a train seat for so freakin' long . . . She looked at all the bustling New Yorkers and wondered how anyone could maintain such a high-stress lifestyle without breaking down. The sewers were belching hot steam. A drunk really WAS belching about ten feet to her right. A ludicrous amount of honking beat against her eardrums. Wondering how the hell to get to the Empire State building, she remembered the five hundred dollars her mother had so generously given her to pay for the train and taxi fare, mostly out of guilt that she would be all alone on the train. "But I'm too shy to call for a taxi!" she mumbled to herself. No one paid her any attention as they zipped to and fro. People babbling to themselves in the middle of the sidewalk was a common sight in the city. Nearby, two women were clawing each other apart in an attempt to get to a waiting taxi first. One tripped the other with her bulging Saks Fifth Avenue shopping bag in an attempt to cancel out her head start. As the second woman went down, she grabbed onto the ankle of the first, causing HER to trip. The first woman pulled off her high heel and began savagely beating the other with it, shrieking every swear word in the book. As several citizens rushed in to pull them away from one another, Liz dove nimbly into the backseat of the taxi. "To the Empire State building, please! And step on it!" Liz slammed the door shut fast, just as one of the women escaped the man restraining her and brutally began pounding her fists on the door in frustration when she realized she'd been tricked. "Sheesh! New Yorkers are like friggin' Neanderthals!" she muttered, more to herself than the cab driver, who couldn't speak any English anyway. He just nodded and smiled, displaying the lovely gold filling on his front tooth. Maverick stood at the head of the table, hands resting upon its edge and spread far apart. Kris stood next to him, and the observant onlooker might notice how occasionally they seemed to be trying to shove the other away to get the more coveted spot. "Now," Maverick boomed, having practiced making his voice carry. "We need to get some kind of a strategy, and we need to get one NOW. Any ideas?" The other mediators blinked. Kris bucked Mav out of the way with a well-targeted swish of her hips. "I propose we lay out a map of all the areas he's struck and see if there's a sort of pattern." "Yeah!" Angel chirped. "Like in the movies!" An eye-catching globe popped up out of the middle of the table, courtesy of Alexis' technical genius. The mediators ooh'ed and aah'ed. Several red spots lit up around the globe. Dana surveyed the map critically. "It appears that they all meet right he–" She was cut off by the door squeaking open slowly. Dark Sentinel dove to the doorway, raised her front paws, bared her fangs, and spread her wings – all in all much resembling a way-too-dramatic gargoyle – and scared the poop out of Liz. "AIYA!" the curly-haired girl screeched in startlement. Dark Sentinel was frightened by the scream and scrambled to hide behind Shawn. She peeked out from behind his knees and saw Liz peeking back at her around the doorframe. "Oh! Liz! Hi!" the sheepish demon blurted out, darting out from behind her convenient bodyguard as if nothing had happened. "Happy birthday!" she added with a casual swish of her tail. Mav rolled his eyes. "Thanks," she responded somewhat shakily. "Did I miss much?" "We're planning our strategy," Lesli informed her. Liz slid into her seat silently, admired her shiny name plate thingie, then turned her attention to Dana. Dana was now pointing frantically to the left half of Long Island. "If he strikes according to his pattern, HE'LL BE DOING IT RIGHT HERE IN NEW YORK CITY IN LESS THAN ONE HOUR!" "AAAAAAAUUUUUUUUGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" everyone screamed instantly, just like in the movies. Scary suspenseful music popped up out of nowhere and completed the intense mood in the room. Mav slowly edged Kris away from the head of the table and took the pitcher of water and poured himself another glass, feeling deliciously professional. Kris "accidentally" knocked his glass over with her elbow. Liz raised her hand tentatively, but Kris and Mav were so busy glaring at each other that Ava finally had to recognize her. "What if we track him down using some kind of high-tech gadget that none of us would have in real life but will conveniently show up because the author couldn't think of any other more creative way to get it?" she asked softly. Everyone turned to stare. "Why . . . what a brilliant idea!" exclaimed RAZOR. "I second that!" Angel cried. "What kind of device shall we use?" Dark Sentinel roared. "How about a one-liner homing device?" Meach put in excitedly. "Yeah!" Lesli shouted. "Excellent!" Mav rubbed his hands together. Things were working out perfectly! "I'll get this guy bagged in no ti–" He cut off, now that everyone had turned to stare at him. A couple giggled, cognizant of what he had just said. "Excuse me, WE'LL get this guy bagged in no time," Kris corrected. Mav could only smile impishly. ________________________________________________________________ Will Maverick "bag" Mike Green? Will the mediators have to help?? Will that lead to all manner of STDs??? Will the lazy author's convenient plot device work???? What if they end up "bagging" a complete stranger instead????? What kind of health implications might that have?????? Find out all this, everything else you had no desire to know, and MORE in Part III of "We Like To Party!", coming soon, to a mailbox near you! --Dark Sentinel ------------------------------------------------------------------------ We are proud as punch of our new web site! http://www.onelist.com Onelist: The leading provider of free email community services From: "D.S." Here's the next installment! I hope you've all been enjoying it thus far . . . --Dark Sentinel, whose creative genius was running on empty until Catherine started commenting! ::GLOMP:: Note: One more teeny-tiny bad word in this part. Nothing major. THE REAL ADVENTURES OF LIZ FAVORITO "We Like To Party!" also known as "Happy Birthday, Liz!" Part III written by Dark Sentinel Liz, having been credited with the brilliant idea of utilizing the author's laziness to succeed in their plan to capture the infamous Mike Green, was given the honor of bearing the great One-Liner Detector. (OLD for short.) Liz held up the enormous – and quite possibly also the world's most misleadingly acronymed – pistol and scanned out the windows throughout the surrounding city. It was by F.A.O. Schwartz that the gun-shaped gadget began blaring, blinking, and otherwise making itself quite an unpleasant disturbance. In the beam of light, there was, far off, illuminated, the figure of what appeared to be an eight-year old. Darkie peered at the figure. "Is that him? He looks awfully young . . ." She glanced around at all the meaningful looks she was getting. "Oh." Angel war-whooped. "LET'S GET ‘IM!" "Not so fast!" Meach cut in, ever the voice of reason. The eleven other mediators and ex-mediators were instantly stuck in a painful crush in the doorway. Meach patiently helped haul out all the young'uns from their stuck positions. "We need to figure out how we're going to attack." "Oh! Why, yes, of course! You silly girls never listen to me! I was TRYING to tell you all that before, but . . . uuh . . . . . . ." Mav trailed off and flashed an evil leer. Lesli sighed. "No need to worry!" Liz announced. "I brought a whole bunch of nuclear weapons!" "Cool!" Kris stared at Liz in admiration. "How'd you smuggle them in past all the security guards, anyway?" A very large sweatdrop formed on one side of Liz's head. "I . . . uhm . . ." Angel booted Liz out the door before she could answer, quite excited at the prospect of nailing Mike once and for all. "C'moooooooon!" she whined. The rest of the mediators followed. The OLD was coming in very handy. As the motley band of mediators roamed the city streets, it successfully pinpointed their terrible target. At last they caught sight of him! A dark-haired eight-year old was standing around shouting various vulgarisms at passers-by, when he spotted the enormous group of people staring at him. At first, he couldn't figure out who they were, but a sleek, silvery-green demon came around one side of the group and surveyed him carefully with glowing eyes. One of the girls in the group, with armpit-length (?!) blonde hair, seemed to have particularly battish features. The only older male of the bunch had a sort of godly aura about him. Instantly Mike knew who they were, and took off like lightning. "Not so fast, buck-o!" Kris screeched, sprinting after the fleeing boy. "I'VE GOT SOME REVENGE TO TAKE HERE!" Mike ducked into an alley, with all twelve mediators in hot pursuit. Shawn drew his Phoenician Paladin sword. "Have ye a taste for steel, thou rebel?!" he bellowed, sending shivers up and down the fugitive's spine out of pure fear. Mike stopped cold at a dead end. He turned around slowly, seeing twelve very evil-looking leers facing him, (one leer more evil than the others, of course) and suddenly . . . WHIPPED OUT A FLAME THROWER! "OH, NO!" all twelve mediators chorused at once, just like in the movies. Kris dove aside just in time as "Bat bitch!" whizzed past her ear. Mike took aim and fired again, this time at Maverick! "Dictator!" sailed through a baggy part of his shirt, thankfully not hitting his skin. There was what seemed like hours of panic as Mike fired his flame thrower at the mediators maniacally, and they were all forced to leap out of the way of their respective flames and insults. Shawn ducked a "Pretty boy!" and stood up. "THAT DOES IT!" he thundered, heaving his beloved Phoenician Paladin sword at Mike. The sword struck his flame-thrower forcefully, knocking both out of reach. Mike gaped at Shawn. Dana started to advance when all of a sudden . . . their arch nemesis . . . PULLED OUT A ONE-LINER GUN! "OH, NO!" all twelve mediators squealed in unison once again. There was chaos as they were rained upon with all manner of useless and insulting one-liners. Liz got tired of this quickly and whipped a gargantuan device out of her pocket. "BEHOLD!" she boomed in a Rage-like fashion, brandishing her free arm wildly. "BIG BABY TEN THOUSAND AND FIVE! THE MOST POWERFUL THERMONUCLEAR DEVICE IN ALL THE WORLD!" She paused, then added as a side note to Darkie, "And really great for taking out small countries such as the Netherlands!" "Holy schnikes!" Lesli exclaimed. "That's one huge son-of-a-biscuit!" Liz was startled by the sudden shout and accidentally dropped her nuclear weapon. Big Baby 10,005 hit the sidewalk and instantly started beeping as it counted down towards doomsday. "WE'RE ALL GONNA BLOW!" Dark Sentinel shrieked, quoting one of Ani DiFranco's more famous lines. "RUN FOR IT!" Angel yelped, taking off like lightning. Mav resisted the urge to beat the crap out of Mike and claim that the victory had been all his, and followed the others. Only Mike remained rooted to the spot, staring at Big Baby 10,005 like a deer in the headlights. Slowly, the timer ticked towards zero . . . ________________________________________________________________ Will Big Baby 10,005 blow up New York City? Wait! More importantly, will it blow up THE MEDIATORS?! *GASP* What will become of Dark Sentinel's home on Long Island? What about upstate New York where our beloved Paladin lives? What about the whole friggin' country?! WILL IT EVER BE THE SAME??????????????????????????? And what the heck is with the Vengaboys? Where the fekrunk do they come into the story? Why does this story have the title it does?! WHAT'S GOING TO HAPPEN NEXT, DAMMIT?!?!?! Stay tuned . . . the conclusion is looming in the near future . . . --Dark Sentinel ------------------------------------------------------------------------ We have a new web site! http://www.onelist.com Onelist: The leading provider of free email community services From: "D.S." To all FFAC members: GOMEN NASAI!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Darkie is a very stoopid little demon for not posting the date! Here is the date when I posted my fic to the list for the first time: 3/21/99 Once again, I'm very very sorry! One last thing before I finish up this sucker . . . ::GLOMPS to Catherine, Liz, and Dana!:: I couldn't have done this without you! Now, on to the final part! THE REAL ADVENTURES OF LIZ FAVORITO "We Like To Party!" also known as "Happy Birthday, Liz!" Part IV written by Dark Sentinel Scarcely had the mediators plunged into the depths of a dumpster for cover, when there was a deafening boom. Ears ringing, twelve curious faces popped out of the disposal and blinked down the alleyway. To their enormous surprise, there was not a speck misplaced. Dark glared at Liz. "THAT was supposed to blow up Joost's house?!" she complained. Liz didn't answer, but suddenly glanced upwards. "Look! Up there!" she cried. They all looked. There was Mike, hanging on by one hand to the edge of the roof of the building. "Nice try, losers!" he taunted. "All that piece of **** did was send up a big blast of air!" He dropped down and landed neatly in a pile of garbage, sneering. Dark continued to glower at Liz, quite annoyed at the ineffectiveness of Big Baby 10,005. "Oh man . . . I've had it now . . ." Liz scrabbled out of the dumpster and ran off down the street. "Where's she going?" Maverick whispered. "I think I know," Dark said ominously, refusing to give any further details. Liz returned moments later, hauling her enormous and conveniently nearby motha-fookin' huge ghettoblaster. "Plug your ears, everyone!" she commanded urgently. They did so, and she smacked a button on it, then turned the volume dial all the way up. "BACKSTREET'S BACK, ALRIGHT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" boomed throughout the alleyway. "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" Mike screamed in agony, melting into the sidewalk. "NOT THEM! NOT THEEEEEeeeeemmmmmm . . . . . . ." The wails gradually died away, leaving nothing but a puddle of goo on the sidewalk. "Good thinking, Liz!" Lesli cheered. Everyone applauded. Liz smiled bashfully. "What made you think to use the Backstreet Boys as a weapon?" Angel asked. Liz grinned. "It has the same effect on Darkie! If it works on good demons, it must work on the bad, too." "How astute!" Meach congratulated. "Besides," Liz continued, "this is my birthday story, so I get to be the heroine. As heroine, I save the day. Therefore, I could have run off and gotten anything at all, even a paperclip, and killed Mike with it. However, our esteemed author wanted to make a statement about how much she hates the Backstreet Boys. So, the weapon I went off to fetch to destroy him just happened to be a huge stereo system with a Backstreet Boys CD in it. See?" There was nothing anyone could do but gape. It was the most profound thing any of them had ever heard. "But wait!" Mav cut in suddenly. "We still left one thing unresolved!" "WHAT?" everyone shouted at once. "What about Joost? Wasn't Liz supposed to blow up Holland or something?" "OH YEAH!" they all chorused. They were all about to start deciding what to do about the whole Netherlands issue, when who should show up but Joost Olivier Verhoef himself! The Dutch twenty-year old looked disheveled and was quite out of breath. "Broadway!" he cried. Dark eyed him suspiciously. "What do YOU want?" she hissed. "I heard a HUGE explosion all the way in Aalsmeerderbrug! I flew over right away to make sure you were okay!" "Oh, please!" Joost stumbled to his knees and clasped his hands together under his chin, looking up at her with huge, pleading eyes. "Emmy dumped me! She thought I was such a schmuck for ditching you like that that she couldn't stand to look at me anymore! Please, babe . . . I want you back!" Dark thought back to when Joost had broken the news to her that he was breaking up with her for another girl. She recalled what he had said to do should he ever come crawling back. With a gloating smile, Dark Sentinel spat at the ground in front of him and started to laugh. Turning her back, she linked arms with the other mediators, who were also laughing. "Hit it, Gooey!" she called to the formless splat back in the alleyway. The blob oozed over to the stereo, switched CDs, and hit play. Instantaneously the Vengaboys' latest hit, "We Like To Party!", began blasting for all of the Big Apple to hear. Together, the twelve most excellent saviors of the JQML boogied, danced, hipped, hopped, rocked, and rolled, all the way down the street and to the waiting Vengabus. They climbed in . . . The Vengabus is coming And everybody's jumping New York to San Francisco An intercity disco The wheels are still a-turning And traffic lights are burning So if you like to party Get on and move your body The Vengabus is coming! . . . and partied off into the sunset. ______________________________________________________________ EPILOGUE Not much else to tell, but here goes: Joost sat in that same kneeling position for exactly thirty-two and a half hours, trying to comprehend that Darkie had rejected him full in the face. He later made friends with Mike The Goo. When Joost finally figured out that no girl would ever want a dork like him, he and Mike The Goo became lovers and, by some miracle, had five adorable, gooey little children. (Naturally the good looks came from Joost's side.) The Verhoef-Goo family was last seen trying to catch rats for food in the slummy areas of Amsterdam. The mediators went on tour with the Vengaboys and gained worldwide fame. Ani dyed her hair blue once again. Liz successfully sued the developers of Big Baby 10,005 thermonuclear bomb, and was awarded ten thousand and five dollars in punitive damages. And, lastly, Mav and Kris are STILL duking it out for that spot at the head of the conference table. . . . the end . . . ? ________________________________________________________ Comments are more than welcome! ::GLOMP Catherine:: --Dark Sentinel ------------------------------------------------------------------------ New hobbies? New curiosities? New enthusiasms? http://www.onelist.com Sign up for a new email list today