"Do you know where you are, Mister Carter?"

"I'm on a stage. I'm a lounge singer. Women are swooning, sliding out of their seats. I'm HOT!"

The man reached up and under his glasses, squinting as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

"No, Mister Carter, you are not on a stage. What is the last thing you remember?"

"Nicole Kidman taking her shirt off."

The man sighed.

"Mister Carter, you're going to have to be more serious if we're going to help you."

"Who says I need help?"

"Do you think you need help, Mister Carter?"

"No, I don't think I need any help," I said. "And the name's Bush43."

"Bush43," asked the man, "can I please speak with Jeffery Carter?"

I rolled my eyes.

"Jesus Christ, man, someone in this room needs help but it sure as hell ain't me."

The man sighed and opened a folder he held.

"Jeffery Scott Carter, born September 3rd, 1978 in Baltimore, Maryland, United States to Michael and Elizabeth Carter, both deceased. Oh my, very recently, too." He looked to me. "My condolences."

"Sure," I said, starting to move a bit and pull at the clamps that held my arms and legs to the chair. "Listen, this is all really fascinating and I'm sure you've got some great stories in there, but would you mind releasing me so I can kick your ass or something?"

"Mister Carter, such outbursts are completely unnecessary. You will get out of here when you are cured."

"Cured, yeah, sure, hey, you know what? I feel better already! Yeah, wow, I don't know what you did but I feel GREAT!"

"Bush43," the man continued reading, "was first sighted July 10th of 2001 when he stopped a mugging of a young couple in Bristol Park." The man paused and looked at me. "Good for you."

"Thanks," I said, stopping my struggling.

"This is about four months after your parents died during the Imperial Magistrate's attack, correct?"

"Who the hell are you?" I asked. "And where the hell am I?"

"My name is Doctor William Tage and you are currently in Alhazred Asylum. And if you hope to ever leave here, Mister Carter, I suggest you begin cooperating with me."

Bush43
Issue #6
Welcome to the Nuthouse
by Jason Kenney

I'd never been in an asylum. Or a cell of any kind, for that matter. It was interesting, but certainly not something I would do for kicks. You get a lot of alone time.

And I mean a LOT of alone time.

Especially if you're in Alhazred Asylum.

You see, Alhazred is different than the rest because of its contents. Alhazred's specializes in detaining and institutionalizing those with meta-human abilities, or some sort of jargon like that. Everyone in these halls is certifiably nuts and has dangerous super powers to boot.

Well, technically everyone in here is nuts. Every prisoner (or patient as they like to call us) that is. And, even then, there's room for error.

I mean, I'm here. What the hell, right?

And not only am I stuck in here and therefore unable to defend Pacific City, but these white coats know my name. My REAL name. And I don't know if that's any more comforting than that damn Happy and Sad duo knowing who I am.

Christ, so much for secret identities.

And they got me drugged up with something or another. It's weakened me, I'm not strong or invulnerable like I used to be. They can poke me at will and I can't even struggle enough for it to really count as putting up a fight.

Bastards.

And if that wasn't bad enough, NO WOMEN! ARUGH!!!!

Though, on the flip side, no men either, so I can bend over and pick up anything I want whenever I want without fear. Okay, so maybe it's not as bad as prison...

"Let's start with a few basic questions, shall we?"

"Shoot, doc."

"Why the George Bush mask?"

"Why not? I mean, for starters, I'm an American so it kinda highlights that, but, also, how funny is that, you know? A guy running around saving the world wearing a George W. Bush mask. Pretty hilarious if you ask me."

"So it was just for show? For attention?"

"Sure, isn't that what a lot of this heroing thing is about? I mean, saving lives is great, but there's a certain amount of play in the press required to be successful. And I'm not really going to get a lot of time if I wear a burlap bag over my head and call myself 'The Sack', you know?"

"Indeed. Jeffery, on a scale of one to ten, one being low and ten being high, where would you place your self esteem level?"

"Eleven. I'm hot, chicks dig me, I kick ass, and I save the world, what's not to be all esteemed about?"

"Jeffery, we're talking about you here. Not Bush43, Jeffery Carter. What kind of self esteem does Jeffery Carter have?"

"Jeffery Carter? We're talking eleven still. Maybe more. Cause I'm hotter without the mask."

Doctor Tage sighed and reached under his glasses to squeeze the bridge of his nose.

"Jeffery, this facade of ego is all well and good, but it's a thin sheet of glass."

"So is that what I'm here for, doc? To break this thin sheet of glass? Are you here to help me make the brick that we shall see thrown through that horrible sheet and lead us to the other side?"

"You are here because you are not healthy, Jeffery. You are here because you are suffering. You are here because, for one reason or another, you have been granted great powers and it's understandable that you be at a loss, that you be confused, that your mind reacts the way it does to these extraordinary circumstances."

"Actually, I'm here because a big ass robot kicked my ass and the police dragged me here."

"Indeed."

"And I'm not at a loss, I'm not confused, I know what I can do and I do it to help other people. What's so wrong with that?"

"You tell me, Jeffery. Do you think a god complex is healthy?"

"Do you think I have a god complex?"

"On some level we all do. But it has been my experience that it becomes more defined in those with powers beyond what a common man holds. You have such powers, Jeffery, and it has led you to believe that you must defend Pacific City, those you perceive weaker than you and in need of your help despite all of the other heroes and despite the remarkably low crime rate this city holds over all. Why do you think you feel the need to do that?"

"The women?"

"How many women have thrown themselves at you since you started being Bush43?"

"Um... five, maybe six. Eight if you count those that passed out and fell into my arms."

"And how many women have thrown themselves at Jeffery Carter since you started being Bush43?"

"Hey, I know where you're going with this!"

"Do tell."

"I am not using the mask to hide from being Jeffery or create a false persona or whatever the hell it is you all want to call it."

"Jeffery, have you ever used your powers without your mask on?"

"Sure, I run faster to catch a bus or not get hurt by running into things."

"Have you used them the same way you do when you wear a mask?"

"Not really, but that's more for my personal protection and the protection of those around me. Last thing I need is some guy seeing me leaping around like Bush43 and putting two and two together."

"Do you feel safe when you wear the mask?"

"Sure."

"Emboldened? Empowered? Stronger? Like you can take on the world?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"Would you say you feel these things without the mask?"

"Um...." Crap, a corner. "Sure."

Doctor Tage cocked an eyebrow at me as he jotted down a note.

"Look, Doc, let's say I am using this mask to hide my personal insecurities, which is bullshit, by the way, but we're talking hypotheticals here. If that is the case, why the hell would I need to be locked up in an asylum to deal with that? Why not just have some sort of intervention and say 'Hey, Jeff, you know what would be really good for you right now? A good talk with a shrink, you know, just to straighten some stuff out.' But, no, someone sent some robot after me to kick my ass and kill two innocent bystanders just to tell me I have a self esteem issue."

"Jeffery, when you have powers like you do, your mental state is a risk not only to yourself but the world around you."

"So you send something after me that kills other people just to save me?"

"Jeffery, your method of apprehension was not my doing. What occurred to physically bring you here is not my concern. What I am concerned about is the route you took that led you here, going back to the beginning of your trip, even before when you put on that mask."

"So you're going to sit here and tell me I'm possibly nuts and a risk when there's some robot out there that killed people to get to me? Isn't that the ends justifying the means or something? I've never killed anyone and, quite frankly, I've taken great pains to make sure innocent people don't get hurt. So I don't see this risk I am to myself or anyone else."

"Jeffery," said Tage as he took off his glasses and again rubbed the bridge of his nose. "The people in the car were dead before the Siege Engine threw it at you."

"The what do what?"

"They died when their car struck the machine after the two of you tumbled into the road."

Tage put his glasses back on as I just sat there, stunned.

"Jeffery, people make mistakes, it's part of being human. As our strengths increase, so does the severity of our mistakes. Some people are stronger in the field of management, and a mistake there could destroy a company. Some have strength in spirituality where a mistake could lead to damnation, if you tend to believe in that. Some have strength through powers beyond those of normal humans and they choose to save lives. Their mistakes usually end up doing quite the opposite of their intent."

"I didn't kill those people," I said, anger building up. How dare he insinuate I killed them?

"But your actions did, Jeffery. How long should you wait until you seek help? How many more people would have to die before you came in on your own?"

"I DIDN'T KILL THEM!" I shouted, pulling on my restraints as I tried to stand, but to no avail. "That damn robot did it. If it hadn't had come after me like it had, if it had simply let me do my job, it would not have happened. IT caused that accident, IT caused those deaths."

"I believe we're done for today, Jeffery," said Tage as he stood up and turned towards the door.

"Oh, fine, leave me hanging like this, Doc, thanks. This'll go a long way towards curing me of whatever it is you fuckers think I'm suffering from."

And Doctor Tage left without saying another word.

Ass hole.

"How did you get your powers, Jeffery?"

"Well, doc, you see, it all happened back in high school."

"Yes..."

"We were on this field trip. And suddenly there was this freak accident involving a truck full of chemicals and a radioactive elephant. It was so tragic."

"Jeffery, please," said Doctor Tage as he squeezed the bridge of his nose again. He seemed to do that a lot. At least, when he was talking to me he did.

"Do you do that often?" I asked.

"Do what?" he said with a sigh, looking at me.

"That squeezing of your nose thing you do. You do it a lot when we're talking, do you do it with everyone else or just me?"

"I believe it's just you, Jeffery."

"Because, what I'm thinking is that that's some sort of passive aggressive thing, you know? Instead of you outright saying 'Christ, this kid's a moron', you're just going to think it and just make some ugly ass squinting face so I still know it but you don't have to say a word, therefore, you can get away with calling me a moron without actually doing it and I really have no way of knowing for sure if that's what you're trying to say, so I'm embarrassed and you're in the clear."

Doctor Tate's hand started to move but stopped once he noticed he was about to squeeze his nose again.

"Where did that begin, Doc?" I asked him. "At what point did you stop expressing your feelings outwardly and start doing it cowardly?"

Doctor Tage slammed shut his notebook and glared at me.

"Jeffery," he said, trying to keep a calm voice but I heard the frustration, "I am trying to help you here and all you are giving me is grief."

"I'd say I touched a nerve, Doc," I said, "but I can't even touch myself in this place without you all catching me. So, what is the root of this problem?"

"Currently the root of the problem is you, Jeffery. Before any progress can begin you must want to help yourself but you haven't even begun to do that."

"That's because I don't have a problem, Doctor, that's what I've been trying to tell you since day one."

"You don't have a problem? You think moving around for most of your youth is good for your self-esteem? You think having your parents die suddenly is perfectly normal? You think wearing a rubber mask and throwing yourself off of buildings is perfectly sane and healthy?"

"Do you think spending all of your time conversing with nutcases is exactly the sign of picture perfect mental health, doc?"

"Your father worked for the Department of State for the United States government, correct?" asked Tage, opening his notebook and changing the subject.

"Do you really need me to confirm that?"

"What exactly did he do for them?" asked Tage, ignoring my last comment as he kept his view on the notebook.

"Don't you have that written down somewhere already?"

Doctor Tage sighed and looked up at me.

"Jeffery, please. I am trying to help you."

"Doc, if you want to be of some help to me, let me go."

"I'm afraid I can not do that, Jeffery. Now, you can cooperate with me and answer my questions, or you can spend a very long time here. The decision is yours. Personally, I'd like to see you get better and be able to return as a productive member of society."

I cut him off with a laugh.

"Or," he said after a pause, "we can go through this, day after day after day."

"Or," I said, "I could get out of here."

"Escape, you mean?" asked Tage. I didn't respond verbally, but I'm sure he saw the answer in my eyes. "Jeffery," he said with a smile and a shake of his head, "I can guarantee you that is not going to happen. In all of it's ninety years there has never been one successful escape from Alhazred Asylum, and as long as I have anything to do with it, there never will be."

"You seem so sure of yourself, doc. Would you happen to be a gambling man?"

"No, Jeffery, I am not. Nor am I of the habit of taking money from my patients," said Doctor Tage as he stood up to leave. "There is only one way out of Alhazred, Mister Carter, and that is through me."

"What is this stuff you all keep pumping into me, doc?"

"Without going into the technicalities of it, it's a power inhibitor."

"So that's why I've been all weak and vulnerable?"

Doctor Tage nodded as he flipped through papers in what I assumed to be my file.

"But how did you all poke me in the first place?" I asked. "I mean, I'm supposed to be invulnerable and in order to stop that you'd have to have poked me while I was still super strong and all that good stuff. So how did the needle get through?"

"You were unconscious at the time."

"So I'm not invulnerable when I sleep?"

"When your mind does not see you as being invulnerable, you aren't."

"Wait, wait, I'm only invulnerable as long as I think I am?"

"So it seems."

"And my strength?"

"Much the same," said Tage, pulling out a sheet from the folder and studying it for a moment and then looking up to me. "From the tests and observations we have done, your powers seem to be psychosomatic. When you think you are strong and invulnerable, you are. When you think yourself weak and easily bruised, you are."

"So, like, right now, if I sat here and thought 'I'm fuckin' Hercules' I could tear through these straps and out of this building?"

"Normally, perhaps," said Tage with a smirk. "But not while we have you drugged."

"Oh."

"And you'd have to truly believe that for it to be any good. Your mind knows how you really feel, what you're really thinking. You can't fool it."

"But doesn't that contradict the whole self esteem thing you're trying to say I have a problem with?"

Tage looked at me but didn't respond.

"I mean," I continued, "if I truly had a self esteem problem and thought I sucked, I wouldn't have any powers. And, if it's only in the mask, as you want to think, then, well, how did I survive the whole laser thing?"

"Laser thing?" asked Tage. "What do you mean by that?"

Oops. Maybe he didn't know everything about me.

"Uh... Well, when I fought the Zapper, yeah, he, um, had this laser power that he zapped me with and it did nothing. And I thought 'oh, crap, this is going to suck,' as he fired it. Yeah."

Doctor Tage stared at me with a look that said he knew I was lying.

But I wasn't going to crack.

"Before I asked if you'd ever used your powers without the mask. Do you remember your answer?"

"Sure, I think it was something about catching a bus but not using them like I do with the mask on and stuff."

"Right," said Tage, looking down at the folder. "Jeffery, have you ever involuntarily used your powers outside of the mask? For example, survive when at car hit you or fallen and not gotten hurt?"

"Sure."

"Jeffery, how did you discover you had your powers?"

"I, uh..." Crap. "Well, I tripped and fell and didn't get hurt one day. And, all delighted about not getting hurt, I threw myself to the ground as a test. Low and behold, I broke my arm. But when I tried it after I got the cast off I didn't get hurt and ever since I've been dandy!"

Tage looked at me for a moment and then back to the folder. "Was this before or after the death of your parents?"

"Uh..." Crap. "Before?"

"So you had a feeling you were invulnerable before they died?"

"Sure."

"Do you think that's what helped you survive?"

"Doc, you haven't done that nose pinch thing all day," I said, changing the subject. "Very good."

"Thank you," said Tage. "Do you think your invulnerability played a part in your survival?"

Crap, he came right back to it.

Don't tell him.

Don't tell him.

Crap.

Silence is bad. He knows I'm hiding. He knows I'm going to lie. He knows he's got me.

Bastard.

I don't want to deal with this. I don't want to deal with him. I don't want to deal with the memory.

Christ, why can't I get out of here?

"Jeffery," said Doctor Tage, trying to look me in the eyes, but I kept looking around the room, dodging his gaze, "please, tell me about that night."

I tried to think of a smart ass answer, tried to come up with a witty comeback or some sort of retort to really piss him off and change the subject. But I couldn't come up with a thing.

I locked eyes with him and inhaled deeply.

"No," I said as I failed to fight back tears.

I had nightmares that night, that son of a bitch.

"Why did you start this hero thing?"

"I was bored," I said with a shrug, or, something resembling a shrug considering my wrists were strapped to the arms of the chair.

"Bored? So instead of going to watch a movie or to a pub, you put on a mask and decide to be a hero?"

"Sure."

"You didn't think there were enough heroes in this town?"

"Well, no, I mean, hell, Millennium Man went nuts and pound the shit out of one guy, Mysteria's been all over the place, that Silver Shadow guy's an ass hole, and there are been tons of bad guys popping up. I mean, if there were too many heroes in this town to begin with then I would have continued to be bored right? Right. But, no, I had plenty to do. And even though they were lame asses, the people I beat up needed a good kick in the nuts."

Tage looked at me and nodded. "Did you rehearse that speech?"

"Well, sure," I said, "I mean, you have to be ready to answer questions like 'why did you do it'. I figured there were a few good quotes in there for the paper to use or something. A good sound bite, you know?"

"What was the real reason for you doing this?"

"I read comic books as a kid like everyone else. I grew up being a fan of all those old heroes, you know. Champion, Freelancer and the like. Every kid wants to be like that. So, when I found I had these powers I thought, 'neat!' I had to do something with them. And I figured 'hey, baby, I'm a superhero,' would be a kick ass pick up line."

"How long did you know about your powers before you started being a hero?"

"Five months or so."

"Why did you wait five months?"

"Well, as I said, Millennium Man had just gone ape shit more or less and up and disappeared. Not that I'm blaming him for going nuts, I mean, some guy takes a shot at a hottie like Regina Darling when I'm around, they can expect a hell of a lot more than a kick in the nuts, know what I mean? So Millennium Man went into hiding or whatever he's doing and Pacific City felt so empty, you know? The police had their hands full with regular crime things and there was no one to pick up the slack where double-M left off. I figured that was as good a time as any to get started."

"So you grabbed a George Bush mask and started being a hero?"

"Sure."

"Did you try being a hero without the Bush mask or was that the first thing you wore?"

"First thing."

"Ever think about changing it?"

"Well, once I found out folks knew my real name I did."

"People knew your real name?"

"A couple. Some guys who tried to use me to get to Mysteria. And that robot. And you. And probably all of Pacific City now."

"Actually, Jeffery, we take ourselves very seriously here and we understand the necessity of an alter ego," said Tage. "We take pains to keep your identity secret from the public, not just for our sake but also for yours, especially after we release you back into the public. The last thing one needs is to have to deal with the past a second time, especially once they've gotten over it."

"So no one knows my identity?"

"A few select members of the asylum staff do, a few members of the police, and that's about it."

"Really?"

"Really."

"Oh, God, what a relief."

"How did you feel when you found out other people knew who you were behind the mask?"

"Scared shitless, to tell you the truth."

"Why's that?"

"Well, it put a lot of things at risk. I mean, a whole part of this hero thing is the public not knowing who you really are. It allows you to be a hero without having to worry about some bad guy getting all pissed and hunting down your friends and family, you know?"

"Were you concerned for your own personal safety?"

"Not really. I mean, legally, sure, it's not like being a vigilante is all right in the eyes of the law. And the police were after me for bullshit I didn't do. But physical safety and stuff, nah, I'm invulnerable and super strong and stuff. They couldn't get to me.

"Hey, doc, I've been meaning to ask."

"Sure," said Tage.

"Is there any chance of getting out for fresh air or anything? I mean, I've been in here for Lord knows how long and I'd really like to see the sun and breathe some real air and stuff."

"I think that can be arranged, Jeffery."

The courtyard was about one hundred feet squared and surrounded by the asylum, which towered over it on all sides. There was a lone tree towards the center of the courtyard, a picnic table underneath it, a sidewalk cutting towards it through the grass. There was only one way in and out of the courtyard and that was the door that closed behind me as I stepped outside with two guards flanking me.

The sun was brighter than I remembered as it beamed from straight above, the light spilling along the walls and onto the grass. I looked to one of the guards who simply nodded and I took a few tentative steps towards the center of the courtyard.

Screw the sidewalk, I thought to myself as I walked through the grass as best I could with my ankles chained together. It felt good to be outside again, no matter how artificial it may have been.

I didn't bother to go to the picnic table, stopping about halfway there and sitting in the grass, leaning my head back, enjoying the sun.

It was so much easier to think outside of that cell.

"Does that folder say how smart I am?" I asked.

"Well, there are a few test results and old school records in here that give us a good idea, but I've never put much faith in those."

"Me either, I've never done well on tests."

"Why do you ask?"

"I was just wondering, really. I've never taken an IQ test, not that I know of or got the results of, except for the few online, but those are about as trustworthy as a tabloid. I want to take one of those logic puzzle tests, you know? Something that can tell me how my deductive reasoning is and stuff."

"Why's that?"

"Just to know," I said with a shrug. "I've always been curious about how I rank on those things. I mean, I don't fancy myself a master detective or anything, but I think I'm okay at that kinda stuff and it'd be interesting to see how I measure up to the rest of the populace in that stuff. It's always an ego booster. Or a deflator, depending on the results."

"How do you think you measure up?"

"Percentile wise?" I asked. Tage nodded. "Oh, I'm probably better than about seventy percent of the populace. I'm pretty good at those logic puzzle magazines and I've always worked well with visual things and what not."

"Did you ever use deductive reasoning as Bush43?"

"Not really, most of the time, if I found out about a crime, it was in progress, so I was able to put a stop to it right then and there, no need for detective work and all. I have used it to try and think of ways out of tough spots, but that's about it."

"What kind of tough spots did you find yourself in?"

"Besides being locked in an asylum?" I said with a smile, getting a smirk from Tage. "Well, um, let's see. I fought that robot pretty well considering I was overpowered and getting the crap beat out of me. I had some guy go get The Human Termite to eat The Human Tree, that was quick thinking on my part. Uh... Well, really, I guess any encounter with a bad guy was a tough spot, but most of the time I responded with a swift kick in the nuts."

"Yes, I'd been meaning to ask, what is with that?"

"The kick in the nuts? It's my signature move."

"What do you do if the guy's wearing a cup?"

"None of them have yet, so I don't know. Probably punch them in the face until they give up."

"What do you do against women?"

"Act all suave and smooth and make mad passionate love to them."

"Jeffery..."

"Hey, can I go outside again? That was really nice."

"Sure, Jeffery, but I want you to do something for me first, and I know you're uncomfortable with this, but I need you to try."

"Uh, doc, you're a nice guy and all, but I don't swing that way."

Tage sighed as he pressed the bridge of his nose.

"Hey, you haven't done that in a long time," I said.

"Jeffery, I want you to tell me about the night your parents died. I want you to tell me what happened."

"I mean, you seem to be making great progress in that whole expression of true feelings thing."

"Jeffery, you have been very cooperative as of late and I appreciate that. I'm only asking for one more thing, and I think it would go very far in helping you."

"Doc, I've been cooperative because we've just been talking."

"Yes," said Tage, "but you seem to have problems when we try and associate your real life with your life as Bush43. That is part of the problem here, you act as if it's two distinct personalities when it is not. They're both you, Jeffery, they both effect each other and that's what we need to get to the root of."

"The whole point of a mask, the whole point of a secret identity, is to keep the two separate, doc. You've dealt with enough of these guys to know that, I'm sure."

"And that is usually the root of their problems as well."

"So I'm schitzo?"

"No, not that far," Tage said, "but it's happened before. No, I think you're simply at the stage where Bush43 always refers to Jeffery Carter in the third person and vice versa."

"Uh, doc, I don't think I've done that."

"Verbally, not often, no, but you see yourself as two people. Bush43 is one person, Jeffery Carter is another, and each would act differently to a certain situation."

"And how did you come to this conclusion?"

"You laid it all out for me, Jeffery. When we talk about Bush43, you're loose, open, any and everything comes out. When we turn to Jeffery Carter, you're tight, quiet, sometimes even aggressively protective of yourself. Bush43 is the confidence and protection while Jeffery Carter is the insecurity and the sheepishness."

"So Jeffery is the wuss while Bush43 is the badass?"

"To put it one way, yes."

"Oh." I sat there for a moment, mulling over his words, but could only think of one thing. "Doc, I think you're full of shit, but that's just my unprofessional opinion."

"Do tell."

"Well, other than the fact I'm still getting over this whole thing where you know my real name outside of the mask and being locked up in a dungeon, I'd talk freely about being Jeffery if you asked, but, no, the only time you bring up my personal life is with tragic events, and, you know what? Of course I'm going to be quiet and reserved about that crap! Oh, yeah, here ya go, all of my nightmares, take 'em, let me know what you see. Please. Now, if you asked about my tenth birthday party I'd tell you about the presents and the pony ride and the trip to the zoo and all that fantastic stuff that is the history of Jeffery Carter, but don't expect me to just up and say 'oh, yeah, my parents died right in front of my eyes and this is what I saw and this is what I felt, and, tee hee, isn't that great?!!!' Frankly, I don't trust you enough to give you that kind of leverage and I'd really prefer not to dig up those demons, thank you very much."

We sat in silence for a moment, our eyes locked, me angry, Tage a blank slate.

"I see we still have a lot of work ahead of us, Jeffery."

"LET" to the izzo, "TERS" to the izzay....

PUT YOUR DAMN HANDS UP!

Okay, well, there aren't really any "letters", unless you count the ones I'm using in these sentences, but I just couldn't think of a funny title for a notes section and I kinda like the one up there, so suffer.

Speaking of suffering, I usually don't bother you three with notes from me at the end of issues because they're usually pointless and it's not like I have any fanmail to bother people with. Besides, a letters column is just masturbation anyways. "Look at my greatness, bask in my greatness, uhhhhh....." Ego stroke.

But I felt the need to write a note this ish and let the three of you know what was up with the huge gap between issues 5 and 6.

Continuity. Pretty much, that's the thing that's been holding this issue up. And that's not a bad thing. Bush43 is now getting closer and stronger ties to the rest of the Artifice Universe, and I dig that. It opens up a whole lot more stories.

And if that's not enough, look at how long this issue is! It's only beaten out by issue #2 so far, and wait until the next issue, it's twice as long! Yeah! And then #8's about as long as this one! So, because the three of you were so patient, over the next few months you'll be getting three issues who's total content is longer than the first five issues COMBINED.

And not only that, but there are wonderful side projects involving Bush43 that will be coming out soon as well. Keep your eyes open for the "The Bush43 Wonderful, Happy Adventure Activity Book!" coming out around Christmas as well as an annual that will ideally be ready by Feb/Mar of 2003. Ideally.

So thanks for the support, thanks for your patience, and thanks for enjoying Bush43. It's fun to write and I'm glad at least three other folks are getting a kick out of it as well.

J~
12/12/02