BrickWilson

And Dr_Nefarious solves the mystery! Bravo!

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Jenkins: Hey, pal- not dead.
Vahz: (puts Jenkins down,) Oh- terribly sorry, old bean.
Jenkins: Wow- you speak VERY well for a Vahzilok zombie. They usually just shout "Grr!" or "Brains!" and whatnot.
Vahz: I have quite the difficult time associating with them, myself. I know exactly what you mean.
Jenkins: Oh, I know. It's simply terrible trying to talk to those people. I once tried to get them interested in forming a literary discussion group. Can you IMAGINE the difficulty I had in getting them to read "The Joy Luck Club" once?
Vahz: Let me guess. They ate the books, and threw up on what was left?
Jenkins: YEAH! I mean sure, that COULD be construed as their opinion on the book- It was "The Joy Luck Club" after all... I'm assuming you tried something similar?
Vahz: (nods) ..."The Great Gatsby".
Jenkins: Yeesh. That's rough. Well, thanks for not dragging me away and killing me horribly.
Vahz: Not a problem. I've stuck to only taking the ALREADY dead. If I try to take living folks, they run, heroes save them, then it's just work, work, work all the time. Easier to start off with the fresh corpses if you ask me.
Jenkins: Good luck with that.
Vahz: You seem like a nice fellow- there's room for a few more Mortificators in our...
Jenkins: ...Been there, done that. See you later.

Where was Death_Grog going with this? It is a mystery!

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-



We look in to the barely lighted apartment and find Jenkins eating a bowl of Twinkies and milk, watching the 13” TV on a stool, the channel is full of the super heroes that he so despises and for what reasons….

As he spoons himself another bite he comes up with an idea. Rushing out the door nearly choking on the delicious Twinkie mouthful his idea just becomes better.

Jenkins: Please may I have your attention, I have a few announcements.
Unhappy Thug: *Mockingly* Please may I have your attention….
Continuously laughing Thug: *Can’t stop laughing*
Thug Leader: Stop it you two!
Jenkins: Thank you Bubba….As I was saying My few new announcements are.
Continuously laughing Thug: *Snorts uncontrollably*
Thug Leader: *Smack’s him upside the head* Shad up you dork.
Unhappy Thug: *Mockingly does the smacking movement*Shad up you dork. Might as well nothing else to do right *jibs the laughing thug in the ribs*
Jenkins: Would you please
Continuously laughing Thug: *Burst out laughing from the pain*
Thug Leader: *Starts Beating the two*
Jenkins: We really can’t start until *ooof*

Now we look onto a grave yard and some Vhaz picking up a body that looks some what like a very bloody Jenkins.

From RPGDeluxe, those who can't hench, mastermind! Or... can they...?

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Fed up with his constant failings, Jenkins decides that he cannot fail by bringing together his own villainous group. Jenkins stands in a recently emptied warehouse in front of a Family member, Thorns thorn wielder., Vahz zombie, and Clockwork Robot.

Jenkins: Ok guys, this is gonna be our temporary lair. This is where the Jenkinites can become the most powerful villain group around!
Thorn Wielder: Jenkinites? What’s out goal? Why are we an evil group?
Family Member: I only came to find out if Jenkins got that DVD player…
Jenkins: The one that you threw after me when I was thrown into the water with the cement shoes?
Family Member: Yeah, we need it back. There’s this new guy with a skull for a head, and he needs one. We figured since you drowned, you wouldn’t need it.
Jenkins: Well, you see…I kinda had to use it…
Family Members, notices DVD player under robot’s arm
Clockwork Robot: Metal. Need Metal. Make more robots.
Jenkins: That’s the spirit! We need more members! Any ideas guys?
Vahz Zombie vomits onto floor.
Thorn Wielder: Ugh, guys…I don’t really have the stomach for that sorta thing. I mean, you can’t see me very well, but under these robes, I’m just some guy who can throw knives. Blood and vomit were never my thing. You’ll have to excuse me.
Thorn Wielder vomits into robes
Vahz Zombie vomits onto floor
Clockwork Robot begins gathering Thorn Wielder’s dropped daggers
Clockwork Robot: Metal. Need Metal. Make more robots.
Jenkins: Come on guys! We need to do this right! Let’s think of something to steal. Does the Family have anything we could take?Family Member: You would steal from your own family? I’ll kill ya!
Family Member busts out a tommy gun
Clockwork Robot takes tommy gun, and creates a robot from a DVD player, several knives, and a tommy gun
Jenkins: That’s amazing! That robot will be perfect for this team!
Robot steps on little clockwork, sticks daggers into the Thorn Wielder, shoots family member with his own tommy gun, and crushes zombie into its own puddle of vomit. The new robot turns to a stunned Jenkins, and points to the DVD player contained within its chest
New Robot: Now you watch “Clueless” with me!
Jenkins: Oh, bloody hell….

Things go from bad to worse for Jenkins, according to manofmanychars...

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Jenkins rose to his feet, feeling as if he'd been slipped a roofie.

Jenkins: Huh? Where am I? Last thing I remember was that crazy skull guy... and pickles....

Death Wielder: Silence! I'm trying to sense the prescence of the Legacy Chain.

Jenkins: Okay... are those zombies!?

Lurch: Shuddap, temp-boy. Mr. Bocor gave the boss the Loa Bone only for a little while, so don't think about upstaging me.

Jenkins: Loa Bone? What?

Shamble: Look, I guess this is your first summoning. Fortunately, Death Wielder explained it to us. Your soul is permanently bound to the Loa Bone, and your reanimated corpse shall rise from the ground and serve us whenever the command words are spoken. When the charges run out, you go back to Bocor.

Jenkins: That explains what happened to me when I yelled at that crazy skull guy. Oh, bloody hell....

(He gets Howling Twilighted later, accidentally, returning him to life. Luckily, an unfortunate member of the Legacy Chain replaced him, so Bocor was ok about it. Read the RP thread, Creeper's Inn, to find out more about Death Wielder and his friends.)

Another linky post, this one from CoVJunior.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

For this segment, please view this attachment after reading the missive. It makes a lot more sense that way. lol

A young boy enters, dressed in orange and black. His white t-shirt has an orange and black paw print, signifying that this is the young hero, Test Boy.
Test Boy: There you are.
Jenkins: Who? Me?
Test Boy: My contacts told me I could find you here.
Jenkins: Not again. Look, I gave all of that up.
Test Boy: I know. Just don’t move. Look right over there.
Test Boy motions to an eager young friend of his with a camera.
Jenkins: Wha-
Test Boy: Hang on, Jimmy. Let me get in the shot.
Test boy walks up next to Jenkins, turns around, and flashes a ‘thumbs-up’.
*FLASH*
Jenkins: Wait. What’s going on here?
Test Boy: The kids in my class are never going to believe this. Thanks!
Jenkins stands befuddled, as the two kids bolt out the door. He hears them holler as they run down the street.
Test Boy: I got my picture taken with Jenkins!
Jenkins: Oh, bloody hell…

From Supremacy, Jenkins' troubles weren't only limited to finding the right job...

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

We join our hero Jenkins, being auditted by the IRS.

Jenkins: Ma'am, you guys aren't making this easy on me you know.

Old, cranky lady: look Mr....

Jenkins: Its Jenkins Ma'am.
Old, cranky Lady: Right. Jerkins..*types painfully slowly on her computer*

Jenkins: That's JENKINS Ma'am. Could you hurry it up, I have to get to my job in an hour.

Old, cranky Lady: *gives him a look, Jenkins quiets down* Alright, now I need your W-2's from the past year.

Jenkins: *hands over a huge stacks of papers that looks as thick as a big city phone book*

Old, cranky Lady: What's this?

Jenkins: My W-2's.

Old, cranky Lady: *looks dubious* look sir...this is an audit, if you think you are going to bury me in paperwork, you are wrong. I am going to search through ever document to find any discrepencies.

Jenkins: Look lady, I've had a lot of jobs...

Old, cranky Lady: Well why cant you hold onto one?

Jenkins: Look, do we have to get into this?

Old, cranky Lady: You want to get to your job on time? *looks at Jenkins with meaning*

Jenkins: *sigh* Fine. I've tried joining several villains teams, and now I finally got a good job with Arachnos. Benefits aren't bad, work hours are ok...

Old, cranky Lady: You know I should have you arrested...

Jenkins: My taxes -are- in order!

Old, cranky Lady: No for being a villain you idiot.

Jenkins: *think* err...I am not a villain....really, I just say that to impress my friends, its a bad habit I know...*eyes shift back and forth*

Old, cranky Lady: Look sir. It says in the bylaws: "thou shalt not be a villain or have more then a single W-2 form..."

Jenkins: Hey wait! It doesn't say that in the tax laws!

Old, cranky Lady: And how is it you know so much of tax laws! Its how we got Al Capone! All you villains brush up on the tax laws now...I knew it! SECURITY! Arrest Jerkins!

Jenkins: *as he is dragged off by security* It's Jenkins....

Servant_of_Death tells how Jenkins was running out of options for a while there.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

We find Jenkins speaking with his unemployment represenative.
Rep: Now, Mr...
Jenkins: It's just Jenkins, ma'am.
Rep: Right. Well how has the job search been going?
J: Not too well I am afraid. I seem to have ticked off a lot of people so any help you can give would be great.
R: Well lets see what I got.
The Rep starts to type in her computer and frowns a bit at the readout.
J: What? What is it?R: Seems the pickings are kinda slim. You can be a miner in Sharkhead Isle.
J: Scared of coal.
R: Right. Well you can be part of the Cage Consortium.
J: Last time I worked for a group that started with C, they turned me into a tiny yapping dog.
R: Oh yes, says so here in your file, almost missed it amongst all the copies of death threats.
J: Is there anything? Anything at all?
R: Well there is one, but you wont like it.
J: I'll take it, no matter what. I need this job.
R: Ok, you asked for it. Your new job is gonna be the entry level position of Slag Pile in the Slag Golem branch.
J: Wait. What?
R: Slag Pile. You dress like a big pile of rocks and smack whoever comes near you, keeping in mind that everyone is gonna want a piece of you, since the Slag Golems were just transferred to the Isles. Hope you fun. Now if you excuse, I have other clients. Good day, sir.
J: Oh bloody hell..

I think Jenkins was in Faultline for this post from Archvillain_Neil. Or some other area associated with earthquakes.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Jenkins sat outside a run down apartment at the non-descript housing project. The identical, off white buildings sparsely jotted the bleak, urban landscape of San Andreas like the busted teeth of a crack hustler's mouth. It'd been nearly fourty minutes since his associate, Gangsta, had gone into the apartment for a little "play". That was forty minutes too long as far as Jenkins was concerned. They were sitting in a stolen Mustang '68 convertible. The boys in blue probably weren't too far behind them.

The last thing Jenkins' new boss needed was to stop for some "hot coffee". Jenkins hated it when Gangsta spoke in his gang lingo.

Suddenly the door to the housing unit busted open and Gangsta strolled out. He casually holstered his shiny, black 9mm into the waistband of his extra fluffed boxers and slid into the drivers seat of their stolen car. He smoothed down his tight corn rows and smiled a grill of gold bling at Jenkins.

"Damn J. That <censored> was tight!"

Jenkins replied, "Really sir? Like she was nice? You mean?"

Gangsta shook his head, "No way man. I mean that <censored> was <censored> <censored>. She was all <censored> and <censored>. I <censored> <censored> and she was all like <censored>. I mean trippin'! And then she got out a <censored> and we <censored>! <censored>! I mean it too."

Jenkins blushed and looked toward the horizon. The dim light of a 7-11 sign buzzed in and out of existence as the sun set. "Well sir. That's off-color."

"Aww <censor> my <censor>. Ain't nothing that you prolly ain't <censored> already. Am I right my <censored>?"

"Sir can we just get back to stealing cars, shooting police officers and beating innocent bystanders?"

Gangsta guffawed, "Jenkins, you alright. Here, smoke this and chill. My little hot coffee needs some more creme."

Jenkins wrinkled his nose at the funny baggie of oregano as Gangsta pulled himself out of the stolen car and headed back towards the door.

A quick one from Dr_Nefarious.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Ghost: "Jooooin... oooouuur....gaaaaaaang!"
Jenkins. "For the last time- over my dead body!"

From catsi563, Jenkins vs. the Lawn Gnomes!

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Jenkins: ahh excuse me sir.
Fiend: WHAT!! oh its you Bob.
Jenkins: its jenkins sir *sheesh gthink some one witha head that bug would remember my name by now hat must ne on to tight*
Fiend: of course joe
Jenkins *sighs* At any rate sir i need to inform you that well I need to look for other opportunities.
Fiend: other opportunities you say George
Jenkins: yes other opportunities you see its like this sir
Jenkins: Im having some troubles with this job, I mean the rascals keep playing practical jokes on me and the hooligans keep wanting me to pull down those henge things. and well the witches well the keep blasting me with lightning, and well I just never expected a giant to wipe his rear end with me.well its just all to much to take.
Fiend *considers for a second* rascals snicjer in the back ground* Mathew i have a solution for you
Jenkins it sjenkins sir, and you do?
Fiend: of course smith. coem with me we well perform the ceremony of dismissal
Jenkins: a ceremony huh neat most of the other villians tried to kill me or reduce me to goo or somesuch when i left a ceremony is a refreshing change of pace. thank you sir
Fiend: your welcome oswald. its a pleasure and the ceremony well aid us greatly in our goals.
Jenkins: it well? well thats me sir allways glad to help
*beams this si easier then i thought it would be*
Fiend now stand here by the lake and look at the mountains jones.Jenkins *tkes position* ok sir ready
(redcaps proceed to scamper and dance and chant)(water bubbles and boils)
Jenkins: so sir hows it going are we almost done? i eman i have an appoint ment with some group known as the tuatha denan.
Fiend: of course jenkins your all done
Jenkins Hey sir you remebered my name i feel so happy about all this(sallys head appears above jenkins her moth watering hungrilly) i think this well trully work out for the best i i i...*looks over shoulder* oh fiddlesticks

manofmanychars got off his lazy butt and wrote this one.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

(Hey, guys, this is building off of a theory that someone had about the group being used here, guess it, and you get some pie, Jenkins-flavored!)

Jenkins: Uhh, King Midas... sir?Midas: (yawn) What is it? The Golden Girls are about to come on, so hurry up.
Jenkins: Yeah, about that, I never thought I'd say this, but I think I'm going to have to quit.
Midas: Why? You seemed to love it a few days ago.
Jenkins: Well, all we did was sit around talking and occaisionally threatening other people, as long as it wasn't too much effort, but I'm getting bored. Damn, never thought I'd hear that come out of MY mouth.
Midas: Well, if you MUST leave the Goldbrickers, I guess we'll have to kill you. Attack.
Goldbricker #1: I'm tired, and we're out of donuts!
Goldbricker #2: I don't wanna attack! I'm watching Jeaopardy!
Midas: Ah, screw it, just go. We'll just glare at you.
Jenkins: (mad at the laziness) Oh, bloody hell!

VileTerror goes back to basics. Pun intended.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Jenkins: Uh, sir? Can we talk?
Luddite Monk: Come in, my child. What seems to be troubling you, my son?
Jenkins: Well, it's been bothering me for a few days now, but I don't want to give the impression that I didn't enjoy my time with you guys. I mean, handing out fliers was kinda nice and leisurely. I got to chat with that one lovely tourist for hours, even though I don't think she understood a word I said. Oh! And the sermons are great! All the extra sleep has really done wonders.
Luddite Monk glares.
Jenkins: Uh, not that the lessons didn't go to my heart, mind, and soul, and all that. I just, um . . . I just learn better while I'm asleep. It was the same in high school. I'd ace all my tests! Actually, that probably had more to do with the fact I'd always sit beside that mutant kid with two brains.
Luddite Monk: Is this why you came to me, my son?
Jenkins: Right, sorry. Got a little off track. I've always seemed to have that problem, especially when I'm nervous. I mean, there was this one time when I tried to quit the Warriors, I ended up talking about my old D&D games.
Luddite Monk coughs.
Jenkins: Right. Sorry. Ok, well, like I said, it's been great working with you guys. You know, I really think we were able to ward a few people away from Aeon City too. But, well, I'm going to have to quit.
Luddite Monk: You wish to abandon our holy quest, my son?
Jenkins: Um, if that means "leave the Luddites", then Yes!
Luddite Monk: For what reason could you possibly wish to leave us, my son?
Jenkins: Well, for one: you end every sentence with "my son". It's creepy. My dad only ever called me "son" when he was angry or going to drop some bombshell, like that time he had that mafioso share my bedroom with me when I was seven. Dad said the guy needed a place to stay because the Family was looking for him, and MAN, he reeked of bad pizza.
Luddite Monk: Is this the only reason you wish to leave, my s- uh. *coughs* Hmm?
Jenkins: No. There's also the trouble with the random villain running by while we're handing out fliers. I remember back in Paragon City the heroes would use any excuse to beat me up, even while I wasn't in a gang. I thought I could start a fresh life in the Rogue Isles, free from those do-"good"ers. Instead, I'm just attacked by people with even fewer morals, and these guys aren't afraid to kill you either! Sure, there's the occasional weakling running by, who we nail without effort, I especially liked it when we managed to hit that one villain with about 15 arrows as he jumped into the water trying to escape.
Luddite Monk: The heathens must be taught the truth, or suffer through death! This is how it is written, my son.
Jenkins: Finally, and this one takes the cake . . . you people don't use washrooms!
Luddite Monk: Technology is evil! We must be strong and fight it in all its forms, my son.
Jenkins: But the toilet . . .
Luddite Monk: Nonsense! A true Luddite will refuse to use any form of technology, my son.
Jenkins: Then why do you guys use an automated printing press to make these fliers?
Luddite Monk: Errr . . . I think it would be best if you leave.
Jenkins: Yeah. I agree.
Luddite Monk: But first, just wait here a second. *turns around and yells* Luddites! We've got a deserter!
* in a moments time, about twenty Luddites show up *
Luddite Monk: *readying bow and arrow* Let's give you a proper farewell, my son.
Jenkins: Oh, bloody Aeon City . . .

Unicron employs Jenkins under the highest authority there is.
No pun intended.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Jenkins fidgeted in his seat, hardly able to contain his excitement. After working for seemingly every two-bit villainry outfit on Earth, even when he was trying to turn over a new leaf with the police, he had finally hit the big time. He pulled out his name badge again just to look at it.

RedName Enterprises! He smiled and tucked the badge away. Finally, he was working with the real movers and shakers. And he was fulfilling a childhood dream as well. From now on, he was leaving Earth behind for a job on a space station.

Engines hummed quietly as the shuttle, Weaver I, approached its docking point. Jenkins' new employers had been somewhat cagey about the exact details of his new job, but hell, it was in space. And it had a great dental plan, unlike most of the henching he'd been doing. He'd felt a few pangs of concern when someone had mentioned that his experience working in the ocean would be helpful, and the mention of Captain Mako had been a concern, but he'd dismissed it.

With a hissing sound, the locks around the shuttle door disengaged and it slid open. A helpful female voice quietly suggested that he disembark. Then the recording seemingly malfunctioned, treating him to a long and loud gargling sound. Jenkins shook his head as he stood and retrieved his small rollaway suitcase from the overhead compartment, then approached the door. Curiously, he was the only occupant of the shuttle. The rear section seemed to be entirely for cargo - they probably resupplied the station each time a shuttle arrived.

Surprisingly, the faint fishy smell that he'd noticed in the shuttle actually intensified as he entered the station. Huh, he thought, furrowing his brow. Must be a side-effect of the air recirculation. I guess I'll get used to it.

"Welcome to Cryptic Station," a voice said. Jenkins looked ahead and saw a woman dressed in a crisp uniform in the hallway ahead. She had a clipboard under her arm and an aura of command surrounding her. "My name is Alexa, and I'll be training you to operate the massive shiny orbital laser cannons of death."
"The who to the what now?" Jenkins asked, his jaw dropping.

"The MaSOLaCaD. Massive shiny orbital laser cannons of death," Alexa repeated, as if her estimation of his IQ had dropped as quickly as Jenkins' jaw. "What did you think we did up here at Cryptic Station?"

"Er, nobody really explained it to me. I thought, maybe, research, or..." Jenkins trailed off, not wanting to look like an even bigger idiot than he already seemed to be.

"Sometimes, Jenkins, people get information they shouldn't. We at RedName respond quickly and decisively. The MaSOLaCAD gets our message across in a very... convincing manner."

Jenkins felt a trail of sweat trickle down his back. Why do these things keep happening to me? He pinched the bridge of his nose with two fingers briefly. "So, I'll be operating these... cannons?"

Alexa gave him a brief smile. "Not yet, you're still a trainee. Your hiring is something of an experiment, shall we say. We'll see if you can pick this up as well as... or hopefully better than... our current staff."

"Current staff?" Jenkins asked.

Alexa walked up to a sliding double-door and pressed in the center, where a blue palm-reader was mounted. As the doors slid open, the fishy smell in the air intensified. Jenkins took a look over his guide's shoulder to see a command center straight out of a science fiction film. A huge map that looked suspiciously like a more advanced Google Earth was dotted with red indicators, each of which bore a code for which laser was trained on it at that particular moment. It was almost enough to distract him from the other occupants of the rooms.

Sharks.
Mutated, land-roaming sharks.
With bloodthirsty eyes.
And lasers mounted on their heads.

The sharks turned, almost as one, and their toothy grins widened as they all saw new chum walking into the room.

Jenkins stared. "Oh... bloody hell."

A linky post from VampireGoddess.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-


Snake Lt: Ssssssssssso, in looking over your applicsssation to be a sssssssssnake I am sssssssseeing some dissscrepancssssiessssss...

Jenkins fidgets inside his costume
Jenkins: What on earth could you mean?

From squirec, Jenkins transfers from the valiant Paragon PD to a slightly different beat...

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-


Dissatisfied with his police activities in Atlas Park, Jenkins has decided on a transfer, to conduct law enforcement of a different variety...

Jenkins: "Wow, much nicer brown uniforms. So glad to be here on the Rogue Isles. Bring law to the lawless!!
Cop: "Haha. Yep. We do "protect the innocent" around here.... HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!!! *cough, cough* Oh, jeez- heh- almost choked on my sprinkles..."
Jenkins: Wow. That sounds real familiar. You have a brother?"
Cop: "Yeah. I hear He's a cop in Paragon City."
Jenkins: "That explains alot."
Jenkins: "Hey! Look over there! That one Hellion is spraypainting that wall. We get to beat him down now, right?"
Cop: "Woah there, rookie. Sit back. One of them " tights" will probably come by soon."
Jenkins: "What?! We're NOT going to stop him??"
Cop: "Hell NO! We wait, and then we attack anyone who attacks him."
Jenkins: "What kind of law enforcement is that?":
Cop: "Perhaps you dont know who owns the police kid."
Jenkins: "Biff Tannen?"
Cop: "No. Lord Recluse.
Jenkins: *sigh* "...Oh bloody hell..."

I think I've figured out how to get 'em to show up properly, though without pretty colors, so...

This was from Ryoko, describing Jenkins' rise to hero status! Well, sort of...

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Jenkins sat uneasily in a waiting room inside a non-descript building in Brickstown. The building was so nondescript that he passed by it a couple times just trying to find the right place.
He had been working diligently for Crey Industries for 3 months now. He had a nice comfy job at a computer doing data entry. Well that was his job description, anyway. He mostly played on the internet and hung out in the coffee room. In his spare time, he did whatever data entry was available for him to do. But then, that was what all the data entry folks did, and Jenkins always tried to blend in. His supervisor had called him to his office the day before and said that he was doing a great job and that the guys on the next tier of management would like to see him.

Finally, a legitimate promotion in a legitimate job! No more “Hey when can I be considered a Bone Daddy?” or the like (depending on what group I was with). These guys have recognized my talent and are going to promote me. I just know it! I just wish I wasn’t so nervous about meeting this big boss. Deep breath. Don’t think about it.
After what seemed like 2 hours, but what might really have been 30 minutes, the door to the back opened up.

<guy in suit> “Jenkins? You’re next.”

Next? I didn’t see anybody else here.......

<Jenkins> “Ok, thanks.”

Jenkins gets up to follow the guy in the suit down a brightly lit hallway. Those fluorescent lights always did hurt his eyes some. They come to a stop in front of one of several unmarked doors. Jenkins knew he would never be able to say what room he entered if he didn’t have another guide.

<guy in suit> “If you could enter here, please. They are waiting for you.”

<Jenkins> “Uhh… Ok. Umm… Who, exactly? Is waiting for me I mean. Their names? What should I call them?”

<guy in suit> “I wouldn’t worry about it if I was you. Just go in, state your name, and listen to what they tell you.”

<Jenkins> “Umm…. K”

Jenkins opened the unmarked door and left the strange man to his strange duties. The first thing he noticed was the grey décor. The next several things he noticed was also the grey décor. Sitting in the exact center of the grey room was a grayish (probably metal) table with 2 men and 2 women (in grey suits) sitting behind it, watching him enter. He saw there was a chair placed in front of them. Very probably where he was gonna wind up sitting.

<Man #1> “Ah, so you must be Jennings, right?”

<Jenkins> “Jenkins, sir.”

<Man #1> “Oh, right. Jenkins.” He moved a couple papers around.

He might have been looking at a paper that DID say Jennings on it. Interesting. Are we getting promoted in alphabetical order? Weird.

<Woman #1> “Well, I guess you are wondering why you was sent down here today? First, let me say that you have been doing great work for Crey Industries, and we like to reward those employees that have shined. Today, you will get that reward.”

<Jenkins> “Wow. I didn’t think this would happen. Especially not this fast. I mean, I’ve only been with the company for a little while now.
<Woman #2> “We like to do all this at the same time of the year. It makes it easier on our accountants, I understand.”

<Woman #1> “We would like to move you to one of our special programs. You have shown the incentive we think is needed in our department. We are going to induct you into the ‘Protector Program.’ Congratulations.”

<Jenkins> “I don’t really know what to say. Thank you. I’m honored you would think of me for this position.” What was she talking about? Incentive? Me? I even tried to be kind of anonymous.

<Man #2> “No thanks are necessary. Now if you could please enter the door behind us, you will enter into the training area.”

Jenkins rises, thanks the panel once again and heads to the door in the back. He entered the room, just to have the heavy door shut firmly behind him. He jumped a bit and turned around. His reflexes were still pretty well honed from his past employment activity. He saw that the door was shut and then heard a hiss as automatic locks slid into place. Jenkins quickly looked around the room and saw that the door he entered was the only exit from the room. Jenkins (in a near panic) starts to search the room for a lock release or some kind of hidden door. He hears a sustained hissing sound and notices a white mist pouring in through the air vents in the ceiling.

Huh. See if I ever trust air conditioning vents again. Stupid central air conspiracy. I need to get out of here. There is no telling what this mist stuff is. Those sum-a-bi ***es tricked me. What are they......gon.......na...............do........... ............to.......................
Jenkins collapsed as the mist got thicker and thicker.


************************************************** *****

Jenkins slowly woke up and realized that he was laid out on a metal table. He looked around the room to try to see where he was. He saw that he was in some type of lab.....and that everything had a yellow tint to it. Even the lights above his head glowed yellow. That must explain why everything else was kinda yellowish. About then a door opened. Jenkins looked in the direction the sound came from (even though the sound seemed kinda hallow). Jenkins saw Man #2 from the panel (who wore a lab coat) enter the door.

<Jenkins>(In a hallow-sounding voice) “What am I doing here? What happened? What did you guys do to me? Why does everything look yellow? And why do I sound like I’m speaking into a tin can?”

<Man> “I think you’re a little upset, so I’ll keep this short and sweet. We told you that you were enrolled in our little ‘protection program,’ right? In order for the necessary adjustments to be made, we needed your body in a complete state of relaxation. We have now made those adjustments and have given you your new uniform. I think you will find that you are much more powerful than before, and you will grow used to the weekly injections in time. The ‘yellow’ you see is simply from your helmet.
Congratulations, you are now a Paragon Protector. Crey Industries does not publicly claim knowledge of the Protectors, but know that you have a sponsor. And I am sure that you will be very loyal to your employers. In fact, part of the weekly injections is a drug we manufactured to ‘promote’ loyalty. The other part keeps your new powers in top form. I think you will like your new job of ‘protecting the citizens from vigilante heroes that have run rampant through the city.’”

<Jenkins> “...........So.........you’re telling me I’m a corporately sponsored (though not officially) hero. Of sorts. Oh brother. So I am going to end up fighting.....heroes.....right?”

<Man> “Precisely.”

The man lets Jenkins up and points him to another room for his assignment.

OK, this totally sucks rocks. Here I am, I think I have finally gotten out of the whole crime racket, just to find myself sucked back in. Why can’t I ever make it when I try to go straight?! And this shot they gave me! I can’t even NOT go through this door he pointed me to. I am SO going to have to find a way out of this. I don’t want to fight those heroes anymore. I’m sure I‘ll think of something............ I always do............

************************************************** *********

2 MONTHS LATER


Jenkins is laying in his assigned cell, staring at the ceiling. While in the silence of his ‘room’ his head goes over his upcoming plans...

OK, this Play-Do™ I attached to that metal plate and hid under my uniform seems to have worked. The last 3 shots have absorbed right into that stuff without hitting my arm! I guess it’s a good thing these guys are in a hurry when they give those shots and don’t want us to take off our uniforms. Just a poke through the fabric and, Next! So, I don’t have the nifty powers they gave me, but I have my free-will back. That ought to give me something to work with. I need to figure out how to quit without them training all these fanatics on me. I’ve just been hiding in the background to cover my lack of power. These other PPs will wipe the floor with me if they all jump me. Hmm.... so if I stop them from stopping me, I might have a chance of escaping.......... Hmmm.........

The next day, Jenkins swipes a keycard from a security agent that is supposed to make sure all the Protectors are locked up in their cells for the night. If I can hang with the Carnival of Shadows (even for a little bit), then I sure do know how to do slight of hand stuff. I think the “Sir, I quit,” line won’t work here. Maybe I should just leave this blue and yellow thing, find some civvies and stroll right out of here? Yeah. That might work. Let me lock all these in their cells and then leave.
Jenkins goes to the locker area, finds some unattended clothes, puts them on and stuffs his uniform into a random locker. He then goes to the computer to lock the other PPs in their cells and locks them. He then cuts the keycard in half, and throws the halves into different garbage cans on different floors.

Then (since it was still business hours) he strolled right out the door, never to look back. He had never been so glad in his life to be so unmemorable.

Virtue is the unofficial RP server. It is better than all other servers. Go there. That is all.

Man... I thought we covered this LAST issue.

States... I wanna have faith in ya, man, I really do. I just wish you wouldn't keep testing me.

Burn was strong, no question of that. Drop damage, increase recharge, make it pink and lavender, I don't care. But don't do all that AND make it a mob aversion zone. You did that in I4 test instead of reducing damage and so forth, and it was determined that the change was detrimental to the Tanker's primary purpose.

That has not changed.

Drop the AI aversion - which, I should note, CuppaJo was not aware of when the patch went live and was trying to collect data on, so I'm thinking it was not 100% intentional in the first place - and we'll see how it goes.

But on a personal note... I'd like this to be the last time. Burn has been adjusted more than any other single power (well, except maybe something out of Regen, I dunno. Or maybe Invuln.), so get it where you like it, then LEAVE IT ALONE, PLEASE.

[ QUOTE ]
[ QUOTE ]
Here's the real numbers (that's what I get for doing stuff from memory).

Wet Ice
0.5% base
1.265% Defence from Wet Ice with ++ SO's.

17.71% Max Defence from Energy Absorbtion (not what I had earlier).

[/ QUOTE ]

why should I slot these powers now?

[/ QUOTE ]

I don't play Ice much myself, but I have to agree, especially for Wet Ice. Those numbers are on the far end of negligible, and the returns for slotting it are meaningless. I'd say drop all defense from it, reduce endurance cost correspondingly, and just bill it as Ice's anti-mez power.

I have faith in the devs, and will continue to do so until they seriously let me down. Nowhere in the Issue 5 patch notes is it mentioned that they changed mob AI to avoid Burn even when taunted. Therefore, I firmly believe it was an unintentional change that they just have not fixed yet. I understand that many do not believe this, and are treating this as the 'new Burn' rather than only considering the changes listed in the 7/28 patch. Still, devs, I strongly suggest you drop us a note saying either 'Changed mob AI: Enemies will now avoid Burn patches' or (and, I feel, more likely) 'This is a bug, and we're looking into it'.

But every time this has happened before, it was corrected quickly, and while I wish they'd prevent it *before* it hits test, I doubt this'll stick.

Now. Concerning the damage and recharge change... I'm still going to test this, see how much adding a few recharges improves matters, but even as is I don't see a huge problem. Burn is still greatly effective as an 'alpha strike' power, critically weakening any minion within punching range and putting the hurt on anything else. No, you can't murder minions outright anymore, which means you'll have to use your other attacks more often. I know I speak for very few people, but I find that a better option than being a Burnbot all the time.

*Before Jack can get a word in, the caller bursts out in a loud voice:*

When evil's lurking far or near, I'll punch the things that I don't fear!
But there's no need to wear a frown, for Thunderpunch will save our town!

Thunderpunch demands the attention of these nefarious ne'er-do-wells! Thunderpunch is on to your scheme, oh yes! Just today, Thunderpunch assisted Positron with a mighty task, protecting the Paragon Dam from the forces of EVIL! And as Thunderpunch fought through malevolent mobs of metallic miscreants and conniving collections of corroded cadavers, as well as heinous hordes of hooded heretics, he was struck by the fact that they all seemed to be fighting against one another! He was also struck many times over the head, but that is not the issue!

Now Thunderpunch knows your TRUE scheme! The attack on the dam was just a ploy - yes, a ploy - to keep Thunderpunch from finding out you were making a public appearance! Nice try, Dr. Zombie Guy and Clockwork Elvis, but not nice enough! Thunderpunch is on to you, and your diabolical plans are doomed to failure! Thunderpunch also hears a woman's voice with you; clearly a damsel in distress! Does your evilness know no bounds?!

Now, Thunderpunch's question is this: where are you, so that Thunderpunch may come and deliver many punches of THUNDER and JUSTICE, thus defeating you?! Answer swiftly, and Thunderpunch may go easy on you!

One call for help is all you need: 'A Punch for Justice' is my creed!
Beware, all those who hate the Light, for Thunderpunch will-

*The line goes mercifully dead; apparently Thunderpunch was on a pay phone and ran out of change*

Yeah, this is Brick Wilson... these guys all know me, and I'm glad ta see the Doc's still up and kickin' after I took him down singlehanded back in the day... Remember that, Doc? Good times. Good times.

Anyway, two questions. First, for Vandal: What's up with the Council dweebs parked in front of my apartment building? I wipe 'em out every time I go home, but it seems like five minutes later they're back again. Can't you take a hint, or do you like paying their hospital bills?

This next one's thrown out for whoever wants to answer it: does it ever worry you to think that Nemesis may have already replaced one of your number with an exact replica? I mean, we're heroes, so we're used to that sort of thing, but I hope you guys don't think you're immune to his little schemes.

Looks okay, but the thing is that it uses a purely game term (PVP) in what is supposed to be an IC article. Doesn't quite fit, and the bold faced lists look out of place as well. This one, like the Sister Psyche article, doesn't read like something you'd find in a newspaper.

I remember arriving in Atlas for the first time, running around, and being utterly AMAZED at how well my computer was handling the dozens of civilians wandering around.

I remember deleting my first character at level 14 because I'd made such a mess of slotting and power choices.

I remember wandering into IP from the Row at level 10 or so, noticing the nearby Family goons, and beating a hasty retreat.

I remember the Mass Tsoo Hunt when Icon first opened.

I remember when my Fire Tanker hit level 18, and me and some friends cut a swath through IP.

I remember getting physically nauseous at the frantic pace of said swath-cutting, and I remember being incredibly relieved when Burn was toned down.

I remember soloing Dr. V with that same character, before the fix. Sure, he had to run away to rest once, but solo he did.