From: lawrence@ctron.com (Gary S. St. Lawrence)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.comics.misc
Subject: LNH: AND NOW .... POCKET MAN!
Date: 5 Nov 92 16:44:36 GMT
Reply-To: lawrence@olympus.ctron.com (Gary S. St. Lawrence)
Organization: Cabletron Systems INc.


			THE COMING OF POCKET MAN
			     "From the Hip"

	A bomb blast ripped through the oter walls of the Ninth
Interplanetary Bank at the Cos-Mall. Shattered glass and twisted,
near-molten metal barraged passersby who dove for cover under whatever
was nearest their path.
	The Net.Police, Net.Fire Department, Net.Rescue Squad and a
team of Net.Medics surrounded the area, caring for the injured and
securing the perimeter of the building. Cos-Mall security officers
vainly attempted to calm the mass panic as thousands of shoppers 
rampaged toward the exits. Two old women from the local chapter
of the Net.Red Cross sat at a fold-out card table dispensing 
thin blankets, plain donuts and excessively sweet hot chocolate.
	Net.Firemen dashed about to quell the raging flames and
beat the fires from spreading into other stores in the Cos-Mall as
Net.medics bandaged the injured and commented on how the consussion
of the explosion had ripped the tops off many women shoppers in
the bank. A captain of the Net.Rescue Squad sharply chastised them
for their blatant sexism, but lowered his voice and asked them
if they'd seen the big redhead at the escalator.
	"Great suns! It's gonna take a miracle to get this fire
under control," said Capt. Bryce of the Net.Fire Department. "Who
the hell would want to blow up a bank in the middle of a shopping
day?"
	Ever-so-conveniently, a sleek hover craft buzzed over the
Cos-Mall, from which hundreds of leaflets fell. The captain grabbed
one of the falling leaflets and read, "Free the Shrimp or lose
another bank! Signed, The Shellfish Coalition."
	"Oh terrific! Another radical group of terrorists with a
completely ridiculous cause! Just what Net.ropolis needs!"
	Another blast came from within the bank office, sending
shards of metal and thousands of complementary ball-point pens
razing into the crowd, furthering the damage and injuries and
pretty much ensuring that no deposits would be credited to anyone's
account this day.
	"Damn it!" The captain shouted. "If only we had some kind 
of device which could generate a protective forcefield and dissipate
the concussive force of these explosions ... maybe one of those
neat Coluan jobs with the clear rings circling up the end of the 
rod that have a sort of rafier-type base and an attachment. If we
could get our hands on one of those, this scene could be cleared in
minutes! But just our luck, the Net.City Council cut our budget
so tight that we couldn't afford one. Damn! Damn! And even Darn!"
	"Er, excuse me Captain. Is this what you're looking for?"
asked a very plain-looking man whose clothing was covered with
dozens of pockets of various shapes and sizes. From the right hip
pocket, the man was withdrawing the very item the captain had
described.
	"That's IT!" The captain exclaimed. "No time to talk now!
You've got that thing, so use it!"
	"But I don't know how to use it," the man said flatly.
"It's just something I had in my pocket."
	Without a word, the captain grabbed the instrument from 
the ordinary-looking man and hit the button marked "Push Me To
Engage Forcefield." The device began to hum and a great golden
glowing beam eminated from the end with the neat clear rings
circling up the rod. The beam expanded and engulfed the entire 
south end of the Cos-Mall, quickly extinguishing the flames by
cutting off all oxygen and dampening the concussive forces of
the several smaller explosions which still rocked the inside
of the bank.
	"Pheeew!" the captain phewed. "Just in the nick of time."
He said in direct reference to nearly all Marvel comic books
published between 1963 and 1974 which involved last minute
salvation. "How did you happen to be carrying this thing Mr. er ...
umm ... what's your name anyway?"
	"Well, I'm not from around here," the man said. "On my
home planet, everybody is too uninteresting to have names. So we
all go by `You.' But I like my friends to call me `You.'"
	"Umm, yeah," Bryce said. "Okay ... You. Mind telling me
how you, that is, ummm, that YOU just happened to have the exact
thing I needed to get this crises under control?"
	"I really don't know, Captain," I just put my hand in my
pocket to find some gum and it was there. I thought you might
need it, so ..."
	"Well it's a damn good thing that you, I mean, YOU did."
the captain said. "Hey listen, calling you `You' is going the be
confusing. Mind if I call you Bruce to keep it clear?"
	"Well, on my home planet, "bruce" is a dirty word,"
the man said. "Could you think of something else?"
	"Well, you've got an awful lot of pockets on that outfit
of yours. Whataya say I call you POCKET MAN!?"
	"Gee, I kinda like that,' Pocket Man said. "Pocket Man
it is! Listen, Captain. I'm new to the area and I don't have a 
place to stay and all my credits were in that bank. Is there
someplace I could go? A club of some kind maybe?"
	Just then, a news-vid reporter approached the two men.
	"Captain, I'm Pact Nicely of WNET News," the reporter
said. "How did you manage to get this fire scene under control
so quickly?"
	Well, we couldn't have done it without this guy right
here, Pact. He saved the whole mall and thousands of innocent
people. Pocket Man here is the hero of th..."
	The captain was interrupted by the reporter, who was
experiencing some king of malfunction with his broadcast
equipment.
	"Sorry captain, can you hold on a minute?" Pact said.
"Damn this lousy mike! And I don't have the spare! Where the 
hell am I going to get an Unrealistic Bing 500 C-M274-991 series
multi-com omni-directional microwave uplink microphone in this
catastrophe?"
	Pocket Man reached into his back pocket and produced
a device looking very similar to the object in Pact's hand.
	"Umm, this is a Bing 500 C--M274-*990* series multi-com
omni-directional microwave uplink microphone," he said. "Will it
do?"
	The reporter looked blankly at Pocket Man. The captain
just smiled, realizing that with this newfound hero's seeming
abilities, he'd thought of the perfect place to send the wayward
alien visitor.
	Completing the interview, the captain put his arm around
Pocket Man and walked him to a nearby Net.Police Cruiser.
	"I think I know where to send you Pocket Man," the captain
said. "Officer Bimt? Take this man to the headquarters of the
Legion of Net.Heroes. I think we've got ourselves a new protector
in town!"
	Pocket Man looked at the captain quizziacally. "The LNH?
But I'm no hero captain! What will I do at the LNH?"
	"Plenty," Captain Bryce said smiling broadly. "Trust me,
Pocket Man. The LNH is perfect for you. When you get there, tell
them I sent you."
	"Excuse me captain," interjected Officer Bimt. "Someone
else will have to take him. The multi-radium fuel converter is
shot on this cruiser. It got blown out in the explosion."
	"Is it a nutranium converter or a plasma converter,"
Pocket Man asked.
	"Plasma converter. Why?" the officer asked in puzzlement.
	"Here, you can use mine if you want. I don't need it,"
said Pocket Man, pulling the device out of his chest pocket.
	The officer took the device and began installing it in
the cruiser. The captain shook hands with Pocket Man and patted
him on the back.
	"Kid," he said, "You're going to be very popular around
here. You tell the LNH to call me as soon as you get settled.
We're going to be good friends, you and I."
	Pocket Man smiled, gladdened at making new friend, but
puzzled as to why everyone was making him out to be a hero.
	"Really captain, I just had these things on me," he said.
"You really think that qualifies me to be an LNHer?"
	"Pocket Man, wait'll you get there. There are people in
that group who have absolutely useless powers! Hell, there's even
one guy who does nothing but die! And Stupidly! And you wonder
if *YOU'VE* got what it takes? Don't worry about it! You're a 
shoe-in!"
	"Actually, I'm from the planet Kareol. We prefer to think
of ourselves as the cargo planet of the universe."
	"Ha ha ha! You're alright Pocket Man. Listen, thanks
for all your help today. I'm sure we'll run into each other a
lot from now on."
	"I'd like that Captain. Thank you."
	Pocket Man got into the cruiser, which hummed perfectly
with the newly installed fuel converter installed. As the cruiser
pulled into the stratosphere, Captain Bryce smiled, patting his
pockets looking for his laser pen to write his report for the
commissioner. Suddenly, a pen identical to the one he was looking
for fell from the sky into his hands, with a note attached which
read, "Here. You might need this to do your report later, Thanks
again. POCKET MAN."

To be continued ...

POCKET MAN >_> lawrence@Olympus.ctron.com

	
Newsgroups: rec.arts.comics.misc