The Friday Nite Game. Whew. I’m not the hostess type, but this was a lot of fun. We had absolutely 0 annoying guests, 0 blowouts, 0 injuries (not even the cat). I didn’t get to play 100% of the time, but when I got to, I had fun.


The Tinfoil Avenger/Black Iron — Phillip

Black Squirrell –Sharon

Nice Guy — Roland

GM — Lee

Ol’ Lady Johnson/Gilber the Hellhound — De

Splorch — Matt

Mr. Floofy — Joe

Cornfield Commando — Steve

Various elements of chaos — Cammie, Nick, and Ray

Mommie Patrol — Stephanie

Sarcasm and kitchen therapy — Stacy


Megalopolis, the home of the Supreme Squadron, about 50 of the nation’s top superheroes, and their base, a 6-block, 15-story pentagon-shaped base in downtown Megalopolis.


Not there. We’re not part of the Supreme Squadron…we’re the other guys.

Gathered around the black-and-white TV we call Information Central, or something, we see a news bulletin: the Supreme Squad has been abducted! While at city hall accepting an award from the mayor, they disappeared in a shower of yellow-brownish…sparks. Our would-be leader, Nice Guy (who just got out of prison for ten years for “accidentally” killing a ten-year old kid), declares that we must go out on patrol to discover what happened to the Supreme Squad.

Cornfield Commando (“It was aliens. I seen ’em”), The bodaceous Black Squirrel (“Nuts? Where?”), and Ol’ Lady Johnson (“Would yew just shaddap?”) jump into the Nice Car (after defacing a couple of the smiley-face stickers and drive off, with Gilbert’s mastiff head dangling out the window, tires screeching and spit flying.

Nice Guy and the Tinfoil Avenger (who has been kicked out of every superhero squad in the nation…for being such a wuss) fly off to the Supreme Squad’s Base.

Splorch and Mr. Floofy, respectively a living booger and a warped, 8-foot, 600-pound cybernetic engineer who is strangely dependent on a stuffed rabbit, have gone out for Krispy Kremes. Neither one of them is very bright, so the rest of the team ditches them. Besides, they’re out of range of our walkie-talkies that we just got from Radio Shack.

The Nice Car spots some looters rampaging through a strip mall, and pulls over to investigate. As The Corncob Commando (“That’s Corn-field“) turns on the hazard lights, Gilbert bursts through the rear window (you know, the one that only rolls halfway down) of their mighty ’87 Chevy Nova. Black Squirrel, a good bit faster than a hellhound, gracefully steps from the car and scampers over to the nearest looter. Corncob (“Cornfield”) whips out his sawed-off shotgun and enters the fray. Ol’ Lady Johnson, cackling gleefully, hobbles onto the sidewalk somewhat behind the others.

Meanwhile, Nice Guy and The Tinfoil Avenger have arrived at the Supreme Squadron’s base.

Sort of.

Actually, they’ve arrived at a…six story, six block hole in the ground. Um.

The multitude of cops cordoning off the area, directing traffic, etc., aren’t very cooperative when the dynamic duo arrives. Nice Guy questions an officer, Officer Thompson, who may or may not be a relation of the mayor, Mayor Thompson. Officer Thompson casually remarks that he’s heard of Nice Guy before–“in connection with the death of some kid, right? All over the newspape–urgk!” Nice Guy loses it. The officer begins pleading for his life, claiming a wife and twelve kids to support….the situation breaks down further, until Nice Guy finds himself with a patrol car over his head, and a wallet (left in the driver’s seat by mistake) with pictures of Officer Thompson and what look to be…uh…twelve kids or so.

Nice Guy finds himself suddenly in control of his actions again, brushes off Officer Thompson, and announces that he and the Tinfoil Avenger are going to fly off to find the perpetrators of this foul deel. Away!

They fly off just as the SVST (Super Villain SWAT Team) cars start pulling up.

Back to the Corndog (“Cornfield!”) Commando and pals…

A mysterious UPS van pulls up the side of the curb, and the looters begin to carry their loot toward it.

One of the looters eyes Black Squirrel’s cleavage, and, reaching into his pants, pulls out a length of bicycle chain. “Hey baby,” he says, and starts putting the moves on her. Black Squirrel responds with a Nut Strike.

Another of the looters moves to attack Cornfield Commando. Keeping with tradition, he takes his man down with a Low Blow, which makes for two men hunched over and clutching their privates.

As the group of twenty or so hoodlums notices our heroes and begins to close on them, Gilbert enters the fray.

And howls.

It was the kind of howl that starts subsoncially, below the aubible level, and subliminally, below the conscious level. Even before you heard anything, the lizard part of your brain had informed you that you were very, very afraid.

And then it got worse.

Ol’ Lady Johnson chuckled evilly and scuttled into the passeger side of the van. There was the sound of her voice saying, “You wouldn’t hurt a little old lady, would you,” evil laughter, and a flash of light. The driver (no actual UPS men were harmed in the making of this scenario) rolled out onto the street.

After a couple of pointless arguements about restraining the hoodlums and who was to drive what vehicle, they loaded the thugs into the back of the van and drove off. Cornfield and Black Squirrel (a citizen of the Himalayas (The Himalayas? That’s not a country.) (Shut up. I’m the GM), did not herself have a liscence) took the Nice Car and Ol’ Lady Johnson took the UPS van, with Gilbert to guard the prisoners. They drove off to the nearest precinct and dropped off the prisoners…

To Be Continued…