The Font

Chapter 5

John Doe, weasel, Undead Hero, stepped onto the plateau that was the home of the legendary Font of All wisdom. The rodent warrior stood for several moments, looking at the high wall that kept the Font sealed off from reality. When he'd first seen that wall, he'd imagined it a sanctuary, a barrier to keep back the mundane existence of lesser beings. Now he saw it for what it was - the border of a pocket empire, where an insane despot could rule anyone foolish enough to be drawn in by his reputation, and stupid enough to tolerate his antics once there.

Here the Font had cast the Lunatac Goddess as his true love, and her betrothed Elven Lord as the Man in the Way. But the couple refused to play the roles assigned for them, and for that, he had besmirched their names, taken their private business to complete strangers, stalked and threatend them. To their credit, the couple had steadfastly ignored his rudeness and misdeeds, opting for the high road.

*Too bad for you I'm not as gracious as those two are,* John thought. He stomped to the door and banged on it with his fist. "Open up! Open up in there, and suffer the grim vengeance your behavior has have earned you!"

After a moment, the door opened and Lo-Ra stepped into the apeture. "You're alive," she observed neutrally.

"Suprised, Servant of the Font?" John snarled. "As many before you have learned, I am very hard to get rid of. Now stand aside, woman! Grim vengeance has come for your master!"

Lo-Ra blinked, then stepped out of the doorway. "Straight back, then right until you come to the grand hall. But you need to be warned. He is...entertaining."

John stormed past her, then stopped and said over his shoulder, "Entertaining?"

For a moment, Lo-Ra's expression changed, flickered, and in that breach John saw a sorrow and disappointment so intense, it nearly stopped him. Then it was gone, and she said, blandly, "He is always...entertaining." Then the servant of the Font slipped through a nearby door and disappeared into the labyrinth of the compound.

*She loves him,* John realized, the thought ringing in his mind as clearly as if it had been spoken. *She loves him, and looks after him, and all the while he obsesses and chases after something that isn't his to pursue.*

Pity fueled outrage to an even higher pitch. The Undead Hero turned and stormed in the direction Lo-Ra had indicated. He reached the door, threw it open and bellowed, "FONT OF ALL WISDOM, YOUR TIME HAS--"

John stopped short, awed by the surroundings he had come into. The chamber was large, beautiful and ornate, with soft yellow walls and a high vaulted ceiling. The floor was covered in mediterranian tiles in rich colors and glossy sheens. Cushions of luxurious silk were thrown around in carefree fashion, to make up for the lack of othe seating. In the center of the room was a raised dias, bathed in golden sunlight by the artfully contrived overhead windows.

On the dias, standing amidst a host of pillows was the legendary Font of All Wisdom. He was a thin, balding human of middle years, clad in nothing but a blue silk robe, which hung open in the front. The bare, sunken chest was visible, as were the spindly, hairy legs. The nether regions were mercifully obscured by a large wheel of cheddar cheese, held for modesty's sake.

John took a step towards the human, then stopped. All around the Font were Lunatac porno magazines, laid open on the cushions. His eyes were unfocused, his mouth agape, his breathing heavy. John's ears registered a familiar thumping sound, and he realized the Font wasn't just *holding* the cheese.

"YOU SICK SONUVABITCH!" John roared.

"SILENCE!" the human wheezed.

"'SILENCE' MY FURRY LEFT NUT!" John snapped back. "I've had it with your antics! I know what you've been up to! You've been harassing the Lunatac Goddess and Elven Lord for years, and after Florida, you went running to all their friends. You claimed you wanted advice but you were really trying to to assassinate their characters! And when that failed, you trotted their personal business to complete strangers, trying to ruin their reputations!"

"But what REALLY got my goat was your appearances at the Zone forum, pandering to the goddess right in front of her fiance, until they had to block you! And THEN you have the GALL to blame THEM for being unforgiving!"

John's voice dropped to a whisper. "But worst, most inexcusable, you have continually broken the heart of that silly serving girl who, in violation of all sense, adores you. Your antics have shamed her, made a mockery of her affection, and constitute emotional abuse of the cruelest sort."

"THE TIME HAS COME TO PAY FOR YOUR SINS, FONT OF ALL FOOLISHNESS!! NOW GET DOWN HERE AND FIGHT, YOU CHEESE-FUCKING FREAK!!!"

The Font stopped moving his hips, then stood up, leaving the cheese impaled on whatever sort of manhood he possessed. There, at the height of his glory, he leered down at John Doe and sneered, "FOOLISH RODENT! YOU ARE BUT A CHARACTER, A SNIVELLING DOLT WHOSE SOLE ABILITY IS HIS RESISTANCE TO DEATH. YOU DON'T HAVE THE *POWER* TO OPPOSE ME!!"

"You're right. I don't." John said simply. "BUT THEY DO!!"

A high-pitched humm that filled the room, and seven coronas of scintillating light appeared. Then the light faded, and standing in the room beside the Undead Hero were Jean-Luc Picard, James Kirk, Spock, Lieutenant Worf, Commander Sisko, Geribaldi, and Q.

"But...but that's not... but..." the Font stammered in horror. His cheese was drooping noticibly.

"Oh, do shut up, you pretentious idiot," Picard snapped, training his phaser on the Font. "We've already been warned about your plans to bring your moronic behavior to our realms next, and we've come here to ensure that does NOT happen!"

"You have no honor!" Worf snarled, drawing his own weapon. "I will not allow you to disgrace my world with your presence!"

"I'll see you deep-sixed before Deep Space Nine!" Sisko declared.

"The last thing we need on Babylon 5 is another freak," Geribaldi announced, aiming his weapon as well.

"NO! WAIT! YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND WHAT I'VE BEEN THROUGH! WHAT I'VE BEEN SUBJECTED TO!" the Font cried. HE waved his hands around and said, "IT'S ALL THEIR FAULTS! ALL OF THEM! LO-RA AND THE GODDESS AND ANN-MARIE AND--"

"Please," Q sneered. He waved his hand, and the block of cheese vanished from the Font's groin. Everyone assembled in the chamber regarded what hung revealed before them.

"Although not immediately logical, there is anecdotal evidence that originality and penis size are related. Case in point," Spock observed.

"BUT! BUT!"

"Mister Font, do... try... to understand," Kirk said. "The multiverse will be a better place for everyone with you gone. The needs of the the many, outweigh the needs of the few, or the one."

"Well said, Admiral," Picard answered. "Everyone, prepare your weap--"

"Set phasers to 'deep fat fry with a side order of pain'!" John yelled. Everyone, including the sniveling Font, stopped and looked at him. The weasel chuckled sheepishly and said, "Sorry."

"Now, Font of All Wisdom, for crimes against, hmm, well, everyone you've ever known, we sentence you to death." He aimed his phaser and said, "Gentlemen, you may fire at will."

"NOOOOO!" the Font screamed. He lunged for the door, but it was too late. Seven flares of multi-colored energy poured from seven weapons, pouring devouring power into the physical carcass of the Font of All Wisdom. His screech of dying agony was still echoing around the room when his body had already dissolved into it's component atoms.

"WE WON!!" John yelled, and began doing a Warren Sapp end-zone dance.

"Yes, we have. Now please stop dancing," Picard said. "We appreciate your alerting us to this impending peril."

"You're welcome, Captain Picard," John said proudly. "I knew that I'd made the right decision, bringing together the luminary characters of hard science fiction to execute grim vengeance on the Font of All Foolishness. Why, with you at my side, and under my command, victory was all bu..."

John stopped, frozen. His left eye popped out and dangled, followed by the right. Then the Undead Hero folded in on himself and collapsed onto the floor. Behind him, Spock walked back to his captain's side.

"Thank you, Mister Spock. I don't think I could have taken much more of that," Kirk said.

Picard touched his com link and said loudly, "Seven to beam aboard, Number One!" Then the team was enveloped in transporter glow, and disappeared.

********

John Dead, the Undead Hero, walked out of the front of the Font's residence and was greeted by two others. On his left was a bulbous-looking wad of bandages with a few burnt feathers sticking out, a right leg in a flat-footed cast, and a short crutch under it's left wing.

"Honk!" it said. John smiled at it, then turned immediately to the brown-robed acolyte on his right.

"Your 'master' is no more," John said.

The acolyte said, "He is an author. You have succeeded in banishing him to Mundania, but he may yet return."

"Then he will suffer in his disgrace, aware that he is loathed and reviled by all who know of him," John said. "Let him go about his pale imitation of life, his pathetic, dairy-fucking ways, and wallow in his misery for all time. That is punishment enough."

"Do you really believe that?" the acolyte asked.

"No, but I will. One of my main powers is the ability to convince myself of anything," John answered.

When John stooped down and picked up his bird, the acolyte said, "What will you do now? Have you found the wisdom you sought?"

John paused a moment, then said, "I have, I think. I have learned that wisdom must be tested, not accepted blindly, and true wisdom does not fear questioning." He petted the bird and added, "As for my purpose, I have found that as well. I will make it my quest to reunite the schism in the fandom, to bring an end to the long-standing resentments that have broken so many hearts over the years."

"Really? How do you intend to do this?"

"By giving them a common enemy. In the example of the mighty Silver Surfer, I shall unite them against... ME!" John declared proudly. "Then, when they are once more a single body, I shall announce my true nature and recieve the respect and adoration I adore."

The acolyte just stared at him. John said, "I can see you are in awe of my genius, but now, I must be on my way! Farewell, Former Acolyte of the Font!" Then he strolled to the stairs and disappeared beyond the peripice.

On the plateau, the acolyte shook his head. "Despite myself, I wish you luck, little weasel. You played your role admirably." He slid his hood back, his blue eyes dancing with tiny bursts of lightning and mirth.

"I have a feeling we'll meet again."

The End... For Now...