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Page Two: What Weapon?
Page Three: We Approve Of Communal Showers.
Page Four: DoGA Acquires Sun Crusher! How Does This Bode?
Page Five: Special run: How to get a Day Off!!!! Exclusive!
Page Six: Horoscopes -See what the New Year has In Store for You!
Page Seven: PPC -Fact or Fiction?!
Page Eight: Gilbert and Sullivan!
Page Nine: Surrealist Realms Ahoy!
Page Ten: Sudden Spate of Assassin Abductions!
Page Eleven: LO of the Month *SPECIAL*.
Page Twelve: Adverts.

Page Two.

(This page will be filled by tomorrow. Sincere apologies are offered, but Starwind's in a tizz and running low on material.)

Page Three.
Agent Wayne, caught just outside the shower.

Page Four.
Department of Geographical Aberrations gets Sun Crushers

The Department of Geographical Aberrations recently acquired four Sun Crushers to facilitate the destruction of Suvian worlds.

The idea was first propounded by Agents T'Zar and Tadkeeta after they sustained severe damage to their ship slagging the heavily-defended Sue-Planet Mancoturela in the Star Wars 'verse. "Whole worlds are harder to fry than Ardan villages which can be burned or D'ni Ages which can have instabilities Written into their Books," Tadkeeta told a Monitor reporter. "And often a whole star system needs destruction." Agent T'Zar mentioned the Sun Crusher from the Star Wars continuum. Makes-Things and the Department of Sufficiently Advanced Technology got on it right away.

The new Sun Crushers have the same quantum armor, token guns, and eleven-torpedo capacity as the original. Like all PPC vessels, they have Remote Activators on the bow to facilitate travel between the continua. Trained pilots must swear to use them only on Sue!Systems, never on canon systems or systems that are assimilating into canon.

T'Zar and Tadkeeta reportedly took DoGA's first Sun Crusher to destroy the Naklab system, which had survived the killing of a Marissa Picard fic too long and not assimilated into canon.

Page Five.

How To Get A Day Off
Or, how to manufacture an emergency that isn’t your problem

Any discussion about days off must naturally begin with the point that the PPC is understaffed, and that therefore you should not under any circumstances reasonably expect a vacation of any length. That said, we work at the PPC. We are not reasonable people. Any circumstance which would lead to a day off is quite outside the ordinary, but again, anyone expecting the ordinary here is obviously on something and should share. Days off do come from time to time on their own, but this article concerns engineering events to result in an immediate day off.

One time honored method of achieving a day off is some sort of emergency. Not just any emergency though, but one that isn’t your problem. This is an important distinction, because if the emergency is your problem, it will result in more work, not less. Writing up an ubersue or something similar to tie up an entire other department, while potentially amusing, is not recommended, as that sort of emergency does not give days off to people in other departments, and only serves to make those in the affected department irritable. We don’t want assassins more irritable than they already are. The trick, then, is in generating an emergency that necessitates the closing down of all departments other than the one solving the problem.

One suggested method is going to the trekkieverse, retrieving a tribble, (nobody will miss it,) and putting it somewhere in the cafeteria. Before long the hallways will become impassable, everybody not currently in their RC will have some extra time off, and the DoMFF agents will get to have lots of fun shooting furry creatures into space. This can, however, fail, seeing as how PPC agents, with their natural inclination to kill so-called “pretty” things, may just end up taking the matter into their own hands and clear up the hallways in a matter of minutes. Especially since when they die, tribbles make a deliciously alarming “SQUEEEEE!” noise, much like a metroid with indigestion. Alternatively, this could be done with some sort of fast-breeding land octopus, which most agents are less likely to kill for fun, seeing as how octopi are just so darn cute and cuddly.

And of course, when all else fails, simply ask. Of course, simply asking won’t work very well, but it is possible to make asking work so long as you get ready first. Find a discarded empty medication bottle somewhere. There’s bound to be at least fifty in the nearest waste disposal bin. Next find a flamethrower. If you ask really nicely over at DoGA while muttering about pretty lights, they’ll probably let you have one. Now somehow attain the look of bloodshot eyes. You probably have this one down already, what with not getting any sleep that isn’t interrupted by loud beeping noises. Finally, ruffle up your uniform and mess up your hair. There, now, empty medication bottle in one hand, flamethrower in the other, you are ready to go ask one of the Flowers That Be for time off on grounds of mental health.

This article is meant only as suggestions and not as any sort of surefire guide. Failure of any method to work is not at all the fault of either the article writer or the publication carrying said article. Any trouble caused by following any of these methods is entirely the fault of the person following the method. Neither this writer nor this publication condone setting sentient plants on fire. Additionally, this writer denies any and all allegations that he may have accidentally left a box of tribbles and a box of fast-breeding land octopi unattended in the cafeteria. Also, this writer would like to apologize personally to anybody in DoMFF, and will give them cake and brownies if they don’t hurt him.

Page Six.

Horoscopes! See What You're In For This Year!

ARIES: Possible disagreements with cabbages lie in store on rainy days. Weekends may be turbulent times (aren't they always?). Avoid brown mice, white rabbits, cats of all varieties, and Irish wolfhounds.
AQUARIUS: While sunlight may bring smiles, it also brings sunburn. The first few months will be fine, but around May you'll find yourself struggling. Keep your head above water -stay away from the swimming pool.
CANCER: Eat plenty of fresh vegetables. Unexpected encounters will bring run-of-the-mill consequences. Kuh-ri-bohs are not to be hugged, and if you do it's your own darn fault.
CAPRICORN: While your love life may seem to hit a volcano pretty soon, by autumn you'll not only have forgotten about it -you'll be enjoying the best weeks of your sex life ever. Hot chocolate should be absorbed through the ears in small quantities to keep away horseradishes.
GEMINI: Silver sixpences may cause hair loss. Gold jewellery is reccommended, and if you want to make 'One Ring' armour, you'd better do it on the first of Octember or the thirty-fifth of March. Sew diamonds into the clothing to avoid being killed by firing squad while on duty.
LEO: Do not take on anything above PG13 in Lord of the Rings or Pirates of the Caribbean, but R-rated Harry Potter will cause only minor damage to the feet. Lettuces will be your friends whenever it is snowing, i.e. halfway up Caradhas. Wear fur-lined kilts in rocking chairs.
LIBRA: Gravity will be optional on Thursdays for most of the year. Tie cushions to your head to avoid major damage, and try not to sink rowing boats. Being eaten by the Kracken often offends.
PISCES: Do not make any jokes about twins -you will probably find yourself dealing regularly with the Peredhil or the Weasleys. Fires may be a good solution. Stomach trouble will occur, but swallowing Aztec gold will help.
SAGGITARUS: Goats will be a regular pest. Grab them by the horn and the rump and run them out of the door. They may form herds and glare at you, but you can surely deal with that. Tie garlic over your doorknob to ward off weasles.
SCORPIO: Your new partner is a nusiance. Good news: Upstairs will in fact move you. Bad news: The next five will be just as bad. Fortunately, you will not catch any lung diseases this year, although digestive problems loom.
TAURUS: Stay well away from the colour red, chickens of all sizes, and unhatched ducks. Tentacles will be a problem, but can be sorted with chainsaws. Paint yourself in woad and dance tribal dances to build lasting friendships.
VIRGO: You will be imaginative and successful this year. Unfortunately, you will also have your immune system shut down. Try not to catch colds.
Page Seven.

The Protectors of Plot Continuum: Fact or Fiction?

By Georgia Branch

At the PPC Headquarters hundreds of people (be they human, elf or alien) live their lives, dedicating themselves to saving the hundreds of universes that are affected by fanfiction. Not all the people here are assassins, but despite that every single one of them is crucial to the operation of this establishment no matter how many time Kumori tells me I am disposable.

However, there have been rumors concerning the PPC. These rumors may have been brought about by the fact that many agents were created from fanfiction, my partner is one. The rumor is a worrying one and one the flowers seem intent on ignoring. The rumor is that the PPC does not exist, we are merely the figment of some person’s mind. Is it possible that we only exist in a story ourselves? Is it possible that the purpose to which we dedicate our lives is simply the figment of two young Tolkien readers’ imagination? Is it possible that we, the people who dedicate their lives to protecting the continuums from invading forces, are such invading forces ourselves? Are we the famed Original Characters? Or even Mary Sues or Marty Sams? How would we know?

These thoughts entered my mind one-day as I found myself passing by the lounge on the ground floor on my way to the bathroom on level sixty-two, and I over heard voices. Fellow agents, obviously, who had stumbled onto the truth concerning the existence of the PPC.

“Now, that person, fourth wall, and fanfic are all in of themselves fictional, so I don't really know if she thinks that she's free and self-motivated, or if she knows she's just switched authors from a fictional one to a real one.” I heard one person say. Authors? Fictional? Had one agent recently recruited an original character that still hadn’t adjusted to the realization of fanfiction? Perhaps, but I thought that further investigation was necessary. I heard another voice speak, presumably in answer to the original questioner.

“As an example, my own Agent Lou is fully aware that she's been shoved into fiction, and she doesn't like it one bit. Her partner, on the other hand, hasn't a clue.” I’ll leave that statement for you, the readers, to figure out for yourselves. I opened the door in order to confront the speakers, but there was nobody there. Most suspicious.

In an attempt to reach the bottom of this case, I decided that a visit to the Sunflower Official was in order. Somehow I knew that if anyone in HQ had the answers it would be him.

After many days searching most attentively –I’m new to HQ and still don’t know my way around very well. I was most upset when everyone I asked directions from in the halls offered to bash my head against the wall- I finally discovered the SO’s office just after I’d given up and decided to search for a bathroom. After explaining my case to the Sunflower Official, he seemed most confused and agitated.

Agent Branch, I can assure that I am completely real and so are you and the rest of your co-workers. Those were his words, followed by an agitated order to get back to work. Obviously he was hiding something. Back in the ‘real’ world, I was an extremely intelligent and politically aware individual and I was well aware of the media’s attempts to buy the souls from the youth of the world. It was obvious to me at the time, that HQ and everyone I’d met in it was some sort of hallucination caused by the media in an attempt to get me to buy all their trashy music and skimpy cloths that don’t fit me anyway. After I told the SO that his gig was up, he had me forcefully removed from his office by the security dandelions.

My partner found out about my investigations and was most interested. Being an ex-Mary Sue herself, I thought she could provide valuable insights to the investigation. Kumori Tenki had this to say, “Fictional? Who cares? If we are, then there’s probably no way out. Plus, why would we want to? I say we’ve got a pretty sweet deal here. Also, do you really want to find out that some giddy teenager with a computer decides upon your every action? I promise it’s not a happy experience. Now go get to work on something!”

Do the flowers have something to hide? Or are they simply being controlled by some higher source, the all-powerful author? Perhaps I am wrong, and there is nothing suspicious about the headquarters of the Protectors of the Plot Continuum and it’s occupants. I’ll leave that to you, the readers, to decide.

Page Eight.

If Gilbert and Sullivan were PPC "The Agent's List" To the tune of "I've Got a Little List" from The Mikado

1ST. AGENT: As someday it may happen that a victim must be found,
I've got a little list! I've got a little list!
Of Suvian offenders who might well be underground
And who never would be missed! They never would be missed!
There's Legolas' beloved who's half-Vanya, half-Maia.
There's Sirius' young lover who's Class of '98. Gah!
The sorcerer who is in love with Susan Pevensie,
And Achenar's twin sister who's as mad as mad can be,
And poor Worf's Klingon lover who is "less brave than a wrist,"
They'll none of them be missed! They'll none of them be missed!

He's got them on the list! He's got them on the list!
And they'll none of them be missed! They'll none of them be missed!

There's the sister to Darth Vader who will Jacen Solo face.
Saavy's nephew raised on Myst, I've got him on the list.
The tootsitramps who're boffing every warlock in the place
They'd none of them be missed! They'd none of them be missed!
The piratess so pretty who's not much more than a girl,
Who woos Jack Sparrow and makes him forget about the Pearl
And the Lady Firebird's cousin from bloodlines that never were
And also Brennan's kin by uncles kidnapped by the Shuhr.
And that singular anomaly, Tom Riddle's little sis
I don't think she'll be missed! I'm sure she'll not be missed!

He's got her on the list! He's got her on the list!
And he's sure she'll not be missed! He's sure she'll not be missed!

1ST. AGENT: And that puella nimia nuisance who just now is rather rife,
The Paravel Fifth-Throne-ist (I've got her on the list).
The Pegacorn who's humanoid and who'd be Leggy's wife
I don't think she'll be missed! I don't think she'll be missed!
And fan-created phantoms of a canon-warping type
Such as once made Garfield Odie kill and Jon Arbuckle. Yipe!
Likewise such as make Harry go to bed with You-Know-Who.
I'm sure that much more of such types will soon occur to you.
And you ought to put as many as will fit upon the list
For they'll none of them be missed! They'll none of them be missed!
You may put them on the list! You may put them on the list!
And they'll none of them be missed! They'll none of them be missed!

"Take a Pair of Wilver Eyes"
To the tune of "Take a Pair of Sparkling Eyes" from The Goldoliers

Take a pair of wilver eyes
Hidden for not long enough
(If at all) in an eclipse
Take, to Legolas' surprise,
Urple hair (you know the stuff)
And a pair of fruited lips
Take a figure barely there
(But with boobs out to here)
Basically a Barbie doll
And take attitude to spare
(Which will quickly disappear
When love, when love to her calls
Ai, take this freak, you hapless man,
Feed to Shelob if you can, if you can.
Take this freak, you hapless man,
Feed to Shelob if you can.

Take the frame of a Dryad
(although not the movieverse)
To whom Peter gives his heart.
Watch the fanfic start at bad,
And quickly jump to worse.
This is writing, but not art.
Take a disregard for canon
(Peter ne'er had wife or kids
And at a young age he died)
They do things that Aslan's bannin'
Acting on the calls of their ids
And all of the readers sighed
O, throw this freak, you hapless man,
In Deathwater if you can, if you can.
Throw this freak, you hapless man,
In Deathwater if you can,
Hapless man, if you can.

Page Nine.

The Surrealist Menace! Could YOU Be Next?
by Noah Tall, reporter in the field

Throughout the history of the PPC, its halls have witnessed some of the most terrifying spectacles in the universe. The gray corridores have bveen the site of epic battles, invasions, and counter-invasions, and Agents run amok with flamethrowers. But nothing could have prepared the PPC for the most recent epidemic horror to sweep the halls-- surrealism.

The outbreak of nonsense, which has rapidly come to be known as 'Transitfish Syndrome,' has been affecting Agents in all departments. The name comes from the mysterious message that appeared scrawled in two-foot-high letters on a wall near the cafeteria early last week. It read: "Transitfish! Is it a lollipop or isn't it? From the moon table answers are eaten. 3, 8, .2, manganese." The only thing the affected Agents have in common is that they were all near the cafeteria on the day the message appeared. The area containing the Transitfish message has since been blocked from view, but the word in the halls is that the writing resists all attempts to clean it off the wall and appears through the thickest coat of paint.

Theories abound as to the origins of the Transitfish message. Some claim it was put on the wall by an extradimensional entity. Others, like Agent Than Dropwater, hold the opinion that it's some kind of curse. "It's all part of the plan," Than explained. "The Sues have figured out a way to condense their illogic and put it in a place where it will infect us all."

"Obviously it's a spell," said Agent Auriga Goode, whose partner, Specksynder Macy, was one of the first to be claimed by Transitfish. "I'd guess it's one from D&D-verse, one of the ones that has to be spoken out loud by the target. Speck did read it out loud when we were coming back from lunch. He read it, then he laughed for like a bazillion minutes, and then when he started talking again it was all gibberish. He was going on about Post-It notes and PH being a letter. It was really strange. Eventually I had to take him to Medical." But why is it here? "Beats me," Auriga said. "Weird stuff happens here all the time."

Transitfish Syndrome has been particularly devastating for those Agents already suffering from mission-related neurological compromise. Agent Conqu of the Plothole Division, who had just been released from Medical having had a bad case of Songfic Sickness, was quickly readmitted with complications after reading the message. "It's one of the strangest things I've ever seen," said Agent Twist, who is monitoring Conqu's case. "Logicillin would be the standard remedy, but it's done no good at all. We can't figure out what could be causing it. Plus," she added, "it's really weird to hear French operetta sung with nonsense words, especially when it's a bass singing what ought to be a soprano aria."

If the Flowers know anything, they aren't talking. "Agents are always insane," said the Marquis de Sod, director of Personnel. "This new form of insanity is nothing different." None of the other department heads were available for comment, but the Sunflower Official threw a paperweight at the head of one intrepid reporter.

Of course, there are those who consider the whole thing an elaborate hoax. "It's ridiculous," insisted Agent Z'reth Sha of the Department of Implausible Crossovers. "Just because a few people started talking crazy talk they want us to believe there's an epidemic on? I never saw that message. If you ask me I think they're all in on it, they're making it up."

So far there have been no confirmed reports of Transitfish Syndrom being passed from one Agent to another. Efforts continue to remove the message from the wall, but until the barrier comes down, Medical urges all Agents to find alternate routes to the cafeteria and to take preventive dosages of Logicillin. Anyone with relevant information should contact Dr. Fitzgerald immediately.

Page Ten.

Assassins Abducted! Investigation!

Three weeks ago, a number of Assassins, Slashers, and other Agents vanished mysteriously from our halls. (And by 'mysteriously' we don't mean 'through a portal in the usual manner'.) Chaos ensued, with many making loud declarations of war on all Laws of Narrative Comedy. (This coincided with a sudden peak in Medical patients. We are assured that there is no link.)

After a week of hapless searching, the missing Agents were located in a room not far from the Multiverse Monitor offices. Many of them accused the esteemed Editors of abuction. This reporter went to find out more.

"Well, of course we abducted them," said Agent Estelnar Celebduin, looking irritated. "We need more reporters. We were going to train that lot up and then release them." Asked how she and her partner intended to 'train' a group of uncooperative Assassins, Agent Estelnar merely looked shifty and declined to answer. Her partner, Starwind Rohana, was no more forthcoming, but did take the oppurtunity to violently attack her questioner with a letter knife.

It is rumoured that the SO has said that there will be no long-term charges brought against the two, although he was heard to comment that, Having them out of action would be a lot more peaceful and would prevent the workers learning things they don't need to know.

Page Eleven.
Lust Object of the Month -Special!

Celebrian, Lady of Imladris:
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Arwen Undomiel, her daughter:

Page Twelve.

Have magic food, variety of enchantments. Most food is dessert-like and sugary. Willing to trade for a pair of collapsible ski poles with a button to electrify the ends and another button to release sleeping gas. Any interested parties can find The Eternal Newb in the cafeteria kitchens.