On The Jazz
On The Jazz Newsletter: Volume 3 Issue N°5

Date: December 7, 1996
Author: Nicole Pellegrini
Download: otjv03i05.zip

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The totally unofficial A-Team electronic mail newsletter
***** Now in it's THIRD year of publication !! *****

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Administrivia: Nicole Pellegrini
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Also use that address if you wish to change your subscription status to receive the newsletters only (or go from newsletter to news + reflector).

The A-Team Homepage: http://www.seas.upenn.edu/~pellegri/ateam.html
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*Home of the On the Jazz Newsletter Archives**
DATE:   December 7, 1996

Current newsletter + mailing list subscribership: 143
Current newsletter subscribership: 151
Greetings everyone!

Hope those of you in the U.S. all had a good Thanksgiving a short while back. It's been very busy here at "Teamsters" headquarters, that's why this issue is so late. But...the good news is there is lots of material and information to report, and I decided the heck with it, I'll make this a bonus huge edition as reward for the extra wait for it. Enjoy!

NEWS AND ANNOUNCEMENTS: Dwight Schultz spotting/News Leaf Press news/
Sockii Press Fanzine news/Vidcon '97

DWIGHT SCHULTZ SPOTTING: As most of you probably know or have seen already, Dwight makes a (very) brief cameo in the new Star Trek movie. It's a very funny scene, and the good news is thankfully Barclay was *not* assimilated when the Borg invade Engineering. I won't give away any more than that if you haven't seen the movie yet.
NEW LEAF PRESS: This is the fanzine Press that has taken over for the "Peg Kennedy and Bill Hupe" 'zine distribution network. I have finally received a copy of their October '97 fanzine catalog, which included several titles with A-Team fiction in them (mostly reprints and multi-media 'zines - check the Fan Fiction Index on my web site). If you would be interested in a copy of the catalog, I can email it to you upon request.
SOCKII PRESS FANZINE NEWS: First, I'm announcing that "Plans Scams and Vans 3" is now officially *CLOSED* for submissions - earlier than the previously announced deadline. Due to the volume of submissions, I decided to close out this issue before it got too huge - final page count will be in the range of 110-120 pages. Expected date of publication is late January (to hopefully premiere at Vidcon), so watch for announcements here.

Also, starting with PSV#3, all future Sockii press 'zines will be available in both *electronic* as well as standard print versions. I have not decided on how the electronic versions will be distributed, but it will either be available for downloading off the internet or by sending me blank floppy disks. Electronic versions will be in cross-platform Adobe Acrobat format, with the free Acrobat Reader program included. Electronic version will contain all artwork and formatting found in the print version. PSV1&2, as well as "The A-Files", will, for the immediate future, only remain available in the print editions.

That said, if you didn't get that submission to me in time for PSV#3, have no fear - I am already accepting submissions for PSV#4, another edition of our fun and action-oriented A-Team fiction 'zine. I am setting a tentative deadline of April 1, 1996 for submissions to this issue, but as always, the earlier the better, and issue will be closed once about 100 pages of material has been accepted. Issue #4 will hopefully be finished in time for MediaWest Con in late May '97.

Besides PSV#4, several of us have been knocking around ideas for other, specially themed A-Team 'zines. Right now these ideas include the following:

1. "Where's Mary Sue When You Need Her?" - a romance/Mary Sue/straight adult A-Team 'zine, which will also accept material revolving around other characters played by the A-Team stars. Material is already in the works for this one - again, I'll set a tentative deadline of April 1, 1997 for submissions.

2. No-name-yet A-Team 'zine #1 - for stories of a more serious nature. PSV submissions are generally of PG-13 rating at maximum. However, if you have a darker/more serious idea for an A-Team story (R rated for adult themes, violence, whatever), we'll use it here.

3. No-name-yet A-Team 'zine #2 - Have you ever imagined the A-Team set in another era of time? In the future, or in the past? On another planet? An alternative universe? Was there an A-Team in the Wild West or in the 23rd century? If you've got an idea related to this type of theme, let me know, as this will be the 'zine for it. No deadline yet, waiting to find out what theinterest in the title is...
VIDCON '97: Feel like a trip to Florida in the middle of Winter to hang out with some fellow A-Team fans and discuss media and fanzines? Let's take over Vidcon! So far, it appears that (at last count) five of us from the mailing list were hoping to attend this con, so I thought I would include the Con flyer here for anyone else who might be interested...

Vidcon, Florida's only media fanzine convention, is going to be held at the Camberly Inn in Tampa! The dates are Jan 31 thru Feb 2. Membership is $20 until 1/15 and $25 at the door. The price includes dinner on both Friday (Chinese) and Saturday (bar-b-que). We have a huge con suite, a dealers room filled with zines, lots of panels and a video room. Wildlife Rescue will be there agian this year with a Florida panther for fans to meet and have their picture taken with. Rooms at the Camberly are $72 for 1-4 people. There is a free shuttle from the airport. To reserve a room the phone is 800-555-8000.

Vidcon is small but very friendly! Drop in, sit around and talk about your favorite fandom, sit in on a panel on a show you've never heard of or ask our professional writers the tricks of getting into the trade.

For furthre info: Vidcon PO Box 2076, Riverview, FL 33569
Or Debbie at [email protected]
Or Debbie at www.stonehill.org
Or 813-677-6347

Checks can be made out to Vidcon.

Attention all Murdock fans! Newly appointed St. Pamela is announcing the official establishment of the "Church of Murdock" and asks:

>I need to know everyone who is joining the Church of Murdock so that I
>can figure up how many to put down for the congregation. E-mail me
>personally at [email protected] so that it will cut down on
>traffic on the list.

If you've been following this thread on the mailing list, you know all about the formation of the Church. If not, please feel free to email Pamela for more details, and don't forget Murdock's Prayer:

Our Murdock
Who flies near heaven
Howlin' Mad be thy name
Thy A-TEAM friends come
Thy will be done
As in the USA
Give us this day
Our crazy fun
And forgive B.A. Baracus
Even though he thinks thou is a crazy foo'
And lead us not into danger
But deliver us to the VA Hospital
For thine is the craziness
The multi-languages
And the Shock Therepy for all


I'm selling off a few titles from my fanzine collection - some with A-Team fiction, others without. All prices listed below do not include postage. Please email me privately at [email protected] if interested in any of these titles. All are in good to excellent condition.

The Equalizer Report #2 - 322 pages. All Equalizer fiction. $16.00.

The Equalizer Report #3 - 282 pages. All Equalizer fiction. $14.00.

Frak #7 - Multi Media by Janet Ellicott. 94 pages. A-Team, Simon & Simon,
Tomorrow People, more. $5.00.

Grip 48. 98 pages. Star Trek (TOS, TNG, DS9), B5 filks, Galactica. $5.00.

Heroes' Plight #1 - Multi Media by Theresa Evans. 138 pages. A-Team,
ST:TNG, Kung Fu:TLC, SeaQuest, War of the Worlds, Rat Patrol, more. $7.00.

The Osiris Files #3 - Multi Media. 158 pages. A-Team, Indiana Jones,
Airwolf, Beauty & the Beast, more. $6.00.

The Osiris Files #4 - Multi Media. 138 pages. A-Team, Airwolf, Star Trek, more. $7.00.
Suffering Heroes - Multi Media by Theresa Evans. 61 pages. A-Team, Magnum
PI, Beauty & the Beast, more. $4.00.

Uncharted Waters - Multi Media adult (slash). 100 pages. A-Team,
Galactica, Simon & Simon, Hardcastle & McCormick, more. For sale only with 21+ age statement. $5.00.
For those of you asking for more fiction in the newsletter, here we go! This is a story transcribed from one of the British A-Team Annual Books (I'm not sure which year this one is from. These annuals are rather difficult to find today, and often at outrageously high prices - I've seen asking prices of $50 and up.) Much thanks to Craig Robertson for transcribing this story!


The Face Man adjusted his clerical collar, stepped out of the swamp, and approached the lonely cabin. To his right, dead fish were drying over a fire. As he neared the cabin the canvas over the doorway was pulled to one side and the face of a toothless old woman appeared.

Face grinned his best travelling salesman's grin.

"Do you feel life is passing you by?" he asked.

The woman's expression didn't waver.

"Do you feel somehow 'different' to other people? Do some folks think you're strange?"

Face was now close enough to smell the piles of animal skins by the doorway. He cranked up his smile a notch or two and persevered.

"You see, we believe that if you are what other, less enlightened folk might call abnormal, you might be onto something - it could be because you are actually better than others. And we at the Self Help Hypno School - dedicated to better living through positive thought - are prepared to offer you one year's free subscription to our very own magazine, and all we require in return is...." Here Face checked a small piece of paper in his trouser pocket, "...about twenty feet of tubular aluminium piping, a large sheet of industrial silk, and some snake bite serum. What do you say? A deal?"

Face heard some clicking noises inside the cabin and the woman drew the canvas further back to reveal a very small, heavily bearded man loading the second barrel of a double-barrelled shotgun. As he snapped it and took aim, Face turned and ran, splashing through the murky swamp waters as shotgun pellets peppered the huge cottonwood trees around him.

It had been that kind of day. Only two hours previously, after springing a bishop held by South American terrorists, they had been relaxing on board a Dakota provided by Howling Mad Murdock. They were somewhere over Louisiana when Sue noticed smoke pouring from the engine on the port wing. When the propeller stopped, Face checked out with Murdock.

"Where did you get this bus anyway?" Face asked.

Murdock took his harmonica out of his mouth and wiped it on his trousers. "From a film lot," he said. "Some World War II movie. 'Frankenstein Joins The Army' is the working title."

"Didn't you check out the plan?"

"Let's say this one's been modified," said Murdock. "For a start, there's extra buttons and switches and things. Like this thing here." Murdock flipped a switch on the controls, there was a huge explosion from the starboard engine and the ancient plane began losing height rapidly.

"This plane's rigged, dummy," said Face. "It's a prop for the film, wired to explode!"

"How would I know that?" asked Murdock. "Don't forget, I'm crazy. Where are we?"

Face looked down at the endless forest of cottonwood trees below. "Swamp land," he said grimly.

"Then get back in there and strap down. This might tickle a bit."

An eerie silence settled on the A-Team as the Dakota glided over the tops of the cottonwood trees. When Murdock spotted an open stretch of water he tried to put her down.

In a flurry of dirty spray and tearing metal, the Dakota aquaplaned across the water while Murdock wrestled with the controls. The water slowed the Dakota but didn't stop it, and suddenly the space ran out and they were plunging through the trees.

Within seconds, both wings had been ripped off. The fuselage bounced once, rolled, broke open, then stopped.

They were shaken, but no bones were broken. Hannibal had dragged B.A. out of the wreckage and was beginning to revive him when Sue screamed. They turned to see Sue clutching a small wound on her calf, while a deadly moccasin snake slithered into a tangle of roots at the bottom of a nearby tree.

A search of the plane revealed plenty of stage and film props including a giant wind machine - but no serum. It was then that the Face Man had gone on his woefully unsuccessful mission to the cabin.

Back at the wreck, B.A. was muttering angrily to himself as he placed a metal rod in the cleft of a tree and bent it into shape. Murdock was removing the engine from a flat bottomed boat he had found nearby.

"Wouldn't it be better just taking the boat?" Face asked, on his return.

Hannibal shook his head. "Sue's getting worse and it could take us months to find our way out in a boat."

"Won't anybody mind?"

As if in answer to the Face's question there was a sharp crack, followed by a creaking sound, and as a cottonwood toppled down towards them, a fusillade of rifle fire opened up from the forest. As he dived out of the way of the crashing tree Hannibal saw several shadowy figures fanning out in the thickening mist. Grabbing his machine gun and several pistols from the wreck, he told the others of his intentions.

"They're hunters - I'm going to be the game. I'll buy you some time - so use it."

"Who are those guys?" Asked B.A.

"Hasn't anyone told them I've got a low threshold of death?" said Murdock indignantly.

Hannibal put two clips of ammunition in his belt and shrugged.

"Maybe they think we're tax collectors," he said. "Or maybe we busted their still. Who knows? Maybe they think the war's still going on."

Hannibal smiled briefly and then, running quickly from side to side at a crouch, he set off to present a tempting target to his pursuers.

While Hannibal was using up a good deal of many tricks he had learned for staying alive, B.A. was bolting and taping a frame together, using fuel and water pipes from the wreck. Face was measuring out strips of cloth he had cut from a parachute, and Murdock was fixing up the boat's outboard motor to the wind machine. Sue sat slumped against a piece of the fuselage, shivering violently.

"You think this is going to work?" asked Face, when they finally carried the completed craft to the water's edge. B.A. glared at him as they placed it in the boat and strapped Sue into her seat. There was a slight bluish tinge round her mouth and her breathing was becoming increasingly irregular. Murdock switched the motor on and the giant blades of the wind machine whirred into action.

"If we can get up the speed on the water we're home free," he said.

Face and B.A. gave the boat a shove.

After taxiing round the edge of the stretch of water, Murdock gave it full power and the flat-bottomed boat picked up speed. As the trees on the other side loomed closer, Murdock saw a rifle in the bushes aimed directly at him. He pulled hard on the controls and the motorised hand-glider lifted agonizingly slowly from the speeding boat, dipped once across the surfaceof the thick green water, then soared high above the treetops and into the sky, leaving only the echo of lunatic laughter, and the tiny drone of the engine as it carried them away.

Back on the ground, the Face Man's elation was interrupted by a shuffling in the undergrowth beside him and the hooting of an owl. Hannibal appeared, smiling but dirty.

"You bin watching too many cowboy films, Hannibal," said B.A.

"I know it," Hannibal agreed, "and right now we should be circling the wagons. I reckon they'll try and hit us again before dark. If we can scare 'em off till the sun goes down we can slip away."

"Slip away where?" asked B.A.

"You remember that time when we hid out near here, when we had to bust out?"

"You mean when I got shot in the hand?" asked Face.

"And I got the clothes burned off my back?" B.A. chipped in.

Hannibal nodded and smiled into his friends' worried faces.

"We'll use the same plan," he said. "We should get the hang of it this time. Come nightfall we'll be safe."

"How can you be so sure?" the Face Man queried.

"Why, didn't you know...." said Hannibal, re-lighting his cigar, "Indians never attack at night."

It was dusk when the attack came and B.A., Face and Hannibal had spent the time well, preparing for it. Further investigation of the crashed plane's cargo had brought to light several explosive flares, gas-guns that fired red paint balls designed to burst on target, a thousand rounds of blank ammunition, two rubber knifes, a machine that made a noise like a ricochet, a box full of stick-on scars, and a gorilla mask. B.A. was putting some leaves over one of several holes he had dug when the leading attackers triggered a flare charge with a trip wire to signal the beginning of the fight.

Hannibal immediately opened up with a barrage of blanks and Murdock loosed off some paint balls, causing a great deal of confusion among the men he hit.

B.A. cut a rope that held a small tree bent double, and a shower of sharpened sticks rained on the attackers. Carefully placed flares exploded with ear-splitting bangs and the ricochet machine worked overtime. To the hunters, who were expecting minimal resistance, it all came quite a shock. When a spiked weight on a rope was swung among them, they began to scatter.

"Come back!" yelled one of the men, standing firm. As he stepped resolutely forward his foot caught in a concealed noose, and he was swung high into the air where he remained, hanging upside down. Two others rushing to rescue him disappeared down one of the holes B.A. had dug.

More flares exploded, Murdock scored three consecutive direct hits with his paint balls, and when Hannibal rushed forward, firing continuously from the hip, the rest of the attackers scattered.

Hannibal cut the man down from the tree, and after checking that the men in the hole couldn't get out, demanded an explanation.

"You don't know?" asked the man, genuinely surprised. He stood around 5 feet 10 inches, wore a beard and a black wool cap. He looked like he was peering through a hedge.

"We don't know," said Hannibal.

"My son got shot this morning. The girl with him said a bunch of men did it. "We figured it was you."
"Is he dead?" asked Hannibal.

The man shook his head. "Nope. Not yet, anyhow. We daren't move him, though - he's weak."

Hannibal drew his pistol and placed it at the base of the man's spine.
"Take us to him," he said.

"You're crazier than Murdock, man!" snarled B.A. "We're talking survival here!"

"You got it," smiled Hannibal. "But didn't you see the film where the army doctor saves the chief's sun?"

"I was it," said the Face Man. "But we're not in the army any more -this guy's no chief - and you aren't a doctor."

"Hey," said Hannibal, pushing the man ahead of him, "why can't you guys think positive?"

They reached the man's village around midnight. With Hannibal keeping his pistol pressed in the man's back, they walked slowly down a corridor of heavily armed men to the shack where the wounded boy lay ill. A quick examination by Hannibal told him the bullet was lodged near the spine. Any sudden movement could paralyse the boy for ever.

The door burst open and a skinny little man, with a large cowboy hat came in, dragging a young girl with him.

"Are these the men?" he barked.

The girl's frightened eyes studied the three members of the A-Team. Face smiled uneasily. B.A. winked quickly then continued glaring. Hannibal smiled.

"Tell the truth now, girl" he said kindly. "Nobody's been killed yet and we can save the boy's life if you let us."

The girl's eyes filled with tears as she looked at the boy in the bed.
"I didn't mean anyone to get hurt," she said. "It was an accident. The gun went off when he was showing me how it should be loaded. I knew if he died I'd be to blame. I didn't expect them to find anybody else round here. I'm sorry - really sorry."

She put her hands to her face and burst out crying. Hannibal knelt and stroked her hair.

"It's ok," he said.

"No it isn't."

The voice was cold, hard and firm. It came from behind the beard of a tall fat man in a coonskin cap. Hannibal rose to face him. On tiptoe he was level with the necklace of animal bones the man wore on his chest. The man carried a big club.

"Ever thought of taking up wrestling?" Hannibal asked. The man grabbed him by the front of his clothes and lifted him into the air with one hand.

"I don't like jokes," he said simply. Hannibal chewed his cigar. "And this thing has gone too far. You killed two of our men."

"No, they're not dead," interrupted the Face Man eagerly. "They're in a hole back near the plane. They'll be a bit wet but they're alive. Honestly. Really....truly."

As B.A. stepped forward, the man felled him with one tremendous blow of his club.

There were murmurs of admiration and assent from the crowd that had gathered.

"What about the boy?" asked Hannibal.

"You won't be alive to worry about that."

In the distance, Hannibal heard the faint buzz of an approaching helicopter. He lifted his gun and placed it to his captor's temple.

"Listen good, death-breath," he said, still smiling. "When that chopper lands we're gonna take that boy to hospital and we're going too. Nobody's been killed yet, but you try and stop us and you'll get the big cigar and somewhere new to put it."

The man in the coonskin cap looked round the room. The thick night air grew more tense as the helicopter came closer and closer. Eventually, the boy's father broke the silence.

"Put him down," he said. "We'll do as he says."

Hannibal was lowered gently to the ground and he went outside to wave Murdock down. Standing in the helicopter's spotlight as the wind sent piles of dead leaves flying around him. Hannibal could hear Murdock's voice shouting above the roar of the engines.

"Sue's ok," he yelled. "She's a tough old bird. So tough, buddy, that the doctor sent me back to see how the snake is!"

They loaded the boy carefully onto the chopper and made room for his father to sit down. B.A. still unconscious was laid alongside him. Hannibal and Face Man climbed aboard and signalled Murdock to take off.

"Where did you get this one?" asked Face as the chopper rose noisily into the night skies. "It's not another flying joke shop, is it?"

"I'm crazy, not stupid," Murdock replied. "This here's a mean machine. A numero uno."

"Where did you get it?" Face persisted.

"At the airport. Some bigwig was coming around. I just told the pilot I wanted to clear his chopper for security reasons. Did you notice the seal on the door?"

"The seal! Murdock, you're crazy!"


As Murdock and the Face Man argued, the wounded boy's father drew Hannibal's attention to the pistol he was still holding.

"Would you have used it?" he asked.

Hannibal pointed the pistol at the back of Murdock's head. "I don't see why not," he said, pulling the trigger.

The man stiffened as the hammer came down, but instead of a bullet, a wooden stick came racing out of the barrel, stopped, and a small flag unfurled beneath. In big red letters on a yellow background the word BANG had been written.

The man laughed and Hannibal joined in. When Face and Murdock saw what had happened they joined in too. Even the boy managed a smile, and though none of the others ever thought to mention it to him, B.A.'s body shook a little, and Hannibal could have sworn he heard the sound of suppressed laughter coming from his supposedly unconscious friend.


Care to help finish an A-Team story of our very own? The following story went around the mailing list a few weeks back but we seem to have hit a snag in finding someone to write the next part. So, get your creative juices going, and think up a page or two to continue the adventure(and send it in!):

By (so far): Irene Snyder Schwarting, Tracey Phillips, Greg Althoff, Sockii

Templeton "Faceman" Peck closed the door and breathed a sigh of relief. "The things I do for the team," he muttered to himself. Hannibal and BA had no idea how onerous his job was sometimes. He'd long ago given up explaining to them how unpleasant it was to have to seduce somebody he didn't like, didn't even find remotely attractive, just because they had something the team needed. Still, this woman was a real prize. Short, dumpy, with bad breath and a shrill voice that could wake the dead, she was about as far from his ideal dinner date as it was possible to get. It had taken an entire evening of gritted determination and his most seductiveefforts to get the combination to her bosses' safe out of her, and then another two hours just to get her out of the apartment without raising her suspicions. He felt like he'd run a marathon.

Still, he'd gotten what he set out to get; time to fly the coop. Or was there time for a shower first? Her disgusting perfume had permeated the entire apartment, and he felt distinctly greasy after she'd been pawing him all evening. Stripping off his jacket as he went, he opened all the windows to
air the place out, then called Hannibal. "Got it, colonel," he reported succinctly.

Hannibal sniggered. "Have a good time, Face?"

"No," Face snapped. "But I got the damned combination. Send BA over and get me outta here."

"Hold your horses. We're in a traffic jam on the freeway. We'll be there in about half an hour."

"Fine. Seeya." Just long enough for a good hot shower. Face hung up the phone, tossed his tie onto it, and went into the bathroom, wrinkling his nose at the perfumed odor rising from his shirtfront. He didn't notice the observer on the rooftop across the street, watching his every move through binoculars...

"Colonel, I've see Peck. He's alone."

"Good, Jones, keep an eye on him and keep me aprised," sneered Col. Decker via his walkie talkie from a van across the street from the apartment building. A sergent put down his headphones and yelled, "Colonel, he's contacted Smith he should be arriving within 30 minutes." Col. Decker's sorry excuse for a smile grew wider. Decker had men posted all over the building. There was no way that Smith would escape him this time. Decker picked up his walkie-talkie, "Alright, listen up everyone. You know the drill. We take Peck and wait for Smith and Baracus to walk right into this trap. Anyone who messes up answers directly to me. Move out!"

As Face got dressed after his shower, he still felt dirty from that awful woman's touch. As he brushed his teeth for the seventh time, still not believing that he kissed her, he felt the door ring. He yelled, "who is it?"

"It's your neighbor, Sheila Martin, from 7b."

Face smiled. Things might turn out OK after all. As he opened the door, he wasn't greeted by the sexy redhead from down the hall but a blonde in an army uniform, with three men dressed similiarly, all pointing guns at him. Face muttered, "Me and my big mouth."

"Colonel, we have Peck."

"Good job, Michaels. Anderson, what's the news on Smith and Baracus?"

"Eta 2 minutes, Colonel."

Decker smiled. He had spent too much time trying to catch the A-Team the army way. Now he's playing by their rules and things couldn't be going smoother. Suddenly, a familiar Black Van pulled up. "Baracus," he muttered. He picked up his walkie-talkie and shouted, "Listen up. Smith and Baracus are here. Initiate phase two."

Hannibal looked at the building. "Pretty ritzy," he sighed, "How does Face do it?"

"C'mon, Hannibal, let's get Face and get outta here. I got a bad feeling 'bout this."

"BA, have I ever steered you wrong?"

"Yeah, that's why I got a bad feelin' sucka. You gonna get us caught. Decker almost got us last night cause you was on the jazz."

"BA, he's no doubt miles away from here. We'll be long gone before he realizes that we got off that expressway."

"Thanks to me. When you get on the jazz, you crazier than Murdock."

"Tell you what BA, you wait here in the van. If Face and I aren't down in five minutes, leave. Alright?"

"I still think you crazy."

"Relax, what could happen?"

As Face waited in his room, he tried to think of a way to warn Hannibal. Suddenly he had an idea. "Would it be OK if I excused myself to go to the bathroom?"

"Why?" barked one of the soldiers, a corporal.

"Number two?" Face said with a grin.

"Ok, but no funny stuff."

As Face walked to the bathroom, the corporal followed him. When he got to the door, Face turned around and asked, "Are you planning to wipe?" and the corporal backed off. Face shut the door and looked out the window, and he saw BA's van. Hoping that BA was still in there, Face grabbed the plunger and dropped it out the window onto the van.

Hannibal stood in the elevator with two businessmen and pressed the 7 button. He then pulled out a cigar and lit it. "You guys don't mind, do ya?" As they pulled out guns, he replied, "Sorry. Non-smokers, huh?"

The first businessman replied, "Hannibal Smith, you're under arrest."

Decker saw something fall onto the A-team's van. "It's Peck!" he shouted. "What's going on?" he screamed into the walkie-talkie, "What's Peck doing?"

A voice replied, "Um, going to the latrine, sir."

"No he's not, you idiot! He's warning Baracus! Stop him!"

BA sat waiting in his van when he heard a bang on the roof. He got out and looked up. "I'm gonna get the fool who's trashing my van!" Face was leaning out the window. He yelled, "Get out of here! It's a trap! Get Murdock!" Face was then dragged from the window. BA got in his van and peeled out.

"Baracus is moving! Get him! Go!" shouted Decker. A dozen MP cars spilled out of the parking ramp across from the building and took off after BA. BA turned 180 degrees and sped right toward the cars, scattering them. Eight of the cars crashed into parked cars or each other, and the remaining four spun around in pursuit. BA tore through a red light, narrowly missing a bus. The MPs, however, didn't make it through, one hit the bus and the other hit a pizza delivery car and flipped over. "Uh, sir," started one of the young soldiers, "Baracus got away."

"Dammit," shouted Decker. "Well, at least we got Peck and Smith.".....

A huge, gold-covered fist slammed down on the night nurse's desk. She looked up, alarmed, at the burly mohawked figure standing before her.

"Where's that fool Murdock?!" roared B.A.

Resisting the urge to dive under the desk, the nurse cleared her throat and pointed down the hallway to her right. "Umm, room 108 is Mr. Murdock's room. But, visiting hours are over, sir..."

"I ain't interested in visiting that crazy fool! I just wanna know where he is!" With a growl that caused the nurse's fingers to tighten on her schedule book, B.A. turned and stormed off down the hall. The nurse, unable to decide whether to scream or pass out, did the next best thing and pressed the silent alarm underneath her desk.

The sound of his door being kicked in woke Murdock. He instinctively leapt off of his bed and ducked for cover, then cautiously peered up at the person blocking the doorway.

"B.A! What are you doing here at this time of night? If I'd known you were coming, I'd have called out for a pizza, or 4..."

"Shut up, fool!" said B.A., crossing the room and lifting the pilot from his crouched position. "Don't you know I'd never be visitin no crazy man unless I had to? Decker's got Face and Hannibal, and we gotta help 'em! Come on!"

"But B.A., I'm......"

"Come ON!" B.A. lifted a chair and broke Murdock's window, then began to climb out.

"Hold on, there, B.A." said Murdock, reaching underneath his mattress. "You might need this," he added, as he handed B.A. a rope made out of various pieces of discarded laundry, old sheets, and towels. They quickly secured one end of the rope to the leg of Murdock's bed, then slid out the window and ran for the van. Behind them, white-coated security guards were just beginning to respond to the alarm.

"You know, B.A., your rescue, while exciting, certainly lacked Face's finesse. I mean heck, you coulda given me a heart attack busting in like that! And I didn't even have time to prepare!" Murdock pointed at the bunny slippers on his feet. "This mission is not getting off to a proper start, attire wise. I don't have my bathrobe, and my nightcap doesn't match my jammies. If you'd at least TOLD me that I was going to be making a public appearance tonight, well, I could have put on something more appropriate, but NOOOOO, you had to drag me out wearing any old thing. Mr. Blackwell would be appalled!"

"Shut up, fool, or I'll stuff those slippers down your throat! We gotta find Hannibal, not a matching bathrobe!"

"Hmmm." Murdock twirled the tasseled end of his nightcap around his fingers as he thought. "I guess Decker'll have that whole apartment complex staked out. Still, we need to find out what they're up to--maybe get a message to the Colonel and Faceman. We need a plan."

"Yeah, man, and plans are Hannibal's thing, not ours."

"Don't be so sure, B.A." Murdock turned toward the seargant, grinning. "I've been known to come up with a plan or two myself. Let's head over to Face's building."

"Don't wanna be tryin' no plans with some crazy man," grumbled B.A. as he turned the van in that direction, "but I guess we ain't got no choice."

B.A. and Murdock parked the van in an alleyway several blocks from Face's apartment, then proceeded on foot. As they drew near, they noticed that most of the soldiers were involved in haggling with the local authorities and cleaning up the mess caused by B.A.'s rapid departure.

"This is perfect, B.A! We can cruise right by these guys, no problem!" Murdock started from behind the dumpster where they were hiding, then stopped when he realized that B.A. had a firm grip on his nightshirt.

"You can't cruise by nobody dressed like that, fool! Who you think you are, Wee Willie Winkie? Decker's men gonna pick you up and dump you right back in the VA, and then where we gonna be?"

"Ooh, good point, big guy. I guess we need some appropriate gear. Let's see, what would Face wear for such an occasion...."

"I don't care what Face would wear! Stay here and don't move. I'll be right back." Murdock obediently crouched behind the dumpster and waited. Soon B.A. returned, carrying an unconscious soldier under each arm. "Here, fool! Put on some decent clothes!"

Murdock surveyed the MPs' uniforms warily. "I don't know......olive drab isn't really my color-----ok! Ok! I'll wear one! Just put me down, ok? I'm wrinkling, here! Geez." Murdock straightened his P.J.s, then started switching clothes with the soldier.

A little while later, 2 more MPs entered the lobby of Face's apartment building and headed for the elevator.

"Uh, Colonel Decker? Come in, Colonel Decker!" Decker's walkie talkie crackled. Decker stood up, still glaring at his inexplicably calm prisoners. Hannibal Smith's unflappable demeanor really got his goat sometimes. He didn't seem the least bit bothered by the fact that 2 out of 3 of his team were captured, and that the chances of a typical "A-Team rescue" were getting slimmer by the minute. He still responded to Decker's questions and threats with flip answers, punctuated by puffs on that damnable cigar. At least Peck looked a little nervous--Decker could take some consolation from that.

"We'll continue this in a moment, Smith," said Decker grimly, crossing to pick up his radio. "This is Decker. This better be good news about Baracus!"

"Well, I don't know, sir. I mean, it might be, but.."

"Get to the point, soldier! What's going on?"

"I don't know how to put this, but -- two more MPs are on their way upstairs."

"And is there something unusual about this situation, corporal? Don't MPs usually relieve each other when on duty? I'm losing patience with this conversation!"

"But sir, it's about these MPs. One of them seems to be wearing, um, seems to be wearing--bunny slippers!"

Decker spun around to catch Smith's reaction, but Hannibal just grinned widely, puffed on his cigar, and remarked, "Gee, you folks sure have been getting slack about those dress codes lately. Either that, or you're recruiting way too young."

Decker gave Smith his dirtiest look and turned back to the radio. "I want to see those MPs in custody within the next thirty seconds, corporal. Your stripes depend on it, do you understand me?"

"Yes sir!"

"That's the way to keep 'em on their toes," Peck remarked. "Are bunny slippers standard issue nowadays, colonel?"

"Perhaps you should reenlist, Face," Smith suggested, indicating Peck's stockinged feet. "Free food, free housing, bunny slippers, what more could a soldier ask for?"

"Reenlistment isn't going to be one of your options for a long time, Peck," Decker growled, "although you will be getting room and board from the Army for the next twenty years."

"The government's generosity knows no bounds," Peck said cheerfully.
Decker decided to ignore their banter and went out into the hall to await Baracus and whoever the man in the slippers was, carefully securing the door behind him.

"Murdock you fool! Whatchyou wanna be wearing those dumb slippers for?" BA snarled.

"Well, his boots were just way too small," Murdock said defensively. "Besides, I couldn't just abandon Suzanne and Raphael behind a dumpster, could I? I've got to get them back to their burrow-she's expecting, you know."

BA raised a threatening fist. "Don't wanna hear no more 'bout your slippers, Murdock! That sentry saw them fool feet of yours, an' called ahead-they're gonna be waitin' for us at Faceman's apartment."

Murdock lapsed into seriousness for a moment. "Then we'd better make sure that we aren't where they're waiting." The elevator was passing the fifth floor as he spoke, and he quickly reached over to hit the '6' button. The doors opened onto an empty corridor. The two men hastily got out and sent the empty elevator on its way. Relying on his memory of the layout of the floor above, Murdock led BA to the end of the hall. "Face's bedroom should be right above us here," he said. "And like all good citizens, he has a high-quality smoke detector in his bedroom."

Picking up on his idea, BA grinned. He boosted the other man, slippers and all, onto his shoulders, and held him patiently while Murdock removed the ceiling tiles and wrenched open the heating duct. "This is the right one," Murdock said softly, peering up through the vent. The vent was evidently under the bed and disheveled bedcovers half-obscured his view, but the small section of the room above that he could see looked familiar. "At least, it looks like his bedspread, from this angle. And a lovely bedspread too, probably a down comforter, satin lining-"

"Hurry up, fool!"

Murdock sighed. "Pity." He pulled a lighter out of his pocket (the unfortunate soldier was, fortunately, a smoker) and held it up to the vent. After a few moments, the fabric on the other side began to smoulder. Murdock withdrew hastily and dropped lightly to the floor. "Okay, that should get things started. Let's get up there."

The advantage to not having a plan, Hannibal explained later to Face, is that you have no expectations. Therefore, you are prepared to adapt to whatever situation presents itself. Face and Hannibal weren't expecting the sprinklers to suddenly turn on all over the apartment, but they moved fast when it happened. Faster,indeed, than the two humorless MPs guarding them. Even handcuffed, the two members of the A-Team laid their guards out in seconds. "Slowing down a bit, there, Face?" said Hannibal wryly as he unfastened his cuffs.

"I dunno, looked like you were breathing a bit hard yourself. All that rich food and cushy living's getting to you," the younger man chided him cheerfully.

"_I_ have cushy living?" asked Hannibal disbelievingly.

"Can we discuss this later? I think we need to get a new plan, one involving getting out of this place and back to the case, remember?"

Murdock and B.A. avoided taking the elevator and headed instead towards the building's interior stairwell. Murdock paused for a moment by the doorway when he spotted the lever to activate the building's fire alarm. He activated it and they both flinched at the loud ringing that erupted from the bell. "That oughta help gets things even more confused 'round here," he explained, then he followed B.A. past the fire door and up to the seventh floor.

B.A. threw the 7th floor door open and, indeed, right into the MP stationed right outside who had grown confused and distracted by the loud siren right above his head. The MP fell to the ground with a thud and a moan.

"Nice move and lovely execution, B.A.," Murdock commented appreciatively.

"Shut up, fool! You stay back here, make sure none a'his friends come this way. I'm gonna go get Hannibal and Face."

"All by yourself? What're you gonna do?"

B.A. paused and thought for a moment. People were starting to come out of their apartments in confusion and panic at the ringing alarm, heading for the stairwell and giving Murdock, B.A., and the unconscious MP very peculiar looks as they hurried past. Then, looking down at Murdock's feet, the sergeant got at an unusual yet brilliant burst of inspiration.

"Gimme one a your slippers!" he demanded of Murdock.

"Wha - B.A., no! No way! You are NOT going to do anything to harm poor little Suzanne or Raphael, why I -"

B.A. grabbed Murdock by the collar of his stolen uniform and lifted him high off the ground.

"Ack! All right! All right! Take Raphael, go on! No, the OTHER foot, B.A., can't you tell the difference?!"

B.A. dropped Murdock back down, clutching the slipper removed from Murdock's right foot. Murdock glared at him and bent over to stroke the other slipper's ears gently. "There, there, Suzie. I'm sure Uncle B.A. will return Raphael in one piece, RIGHT, B.A.?"

"Be glad I leave YOU in one piece, foo'," B.A. replied, then with an MP's stolen pistol in one hand and Raphael in the other, he headed off to the right and down the corridor towards Face's apartment.

As BA ran down the hall, he tried to remember where Face's apartment was. He came to the corner and stuck the bunny slipper around it as a "lookout". Sure enough, Raphael's head was blown off when one of the soldiers saw it. As BA heard the soldiers run up to the corner, he swung around and plowed his fist into the first one's face, sending him flying into the soldier behind him. BA leveled his rifle at the conscious soldier and bellowed, "Where's Face and Hannibal?" The soldier gestured to the end of the hall but suddenly BA felt the barrel of a gun press against the back of his neck and an all to familiar voice sneer, "Turn around, Baracus." BA turned around to face Col. Decker, who wore what BA guessed was supposed to be a smile, but instead looked like Decker had just eaten some bad fruit, "Let's go join your friends."

"Oh, no, my designer satin sheets," moaned Face.

"Is there another way out of here, Face?" asked Hannibal as he finished tying up the soldiers.

"Do you know how much these sheets cost me, Hannibal?"

"Face, I've kind of got other things on my mind, like finding a way out of here. Is there another one besides the front door?"

"Well, there is the fire escape," Face replied, "But I'm sure that there are troops waiting down there."

"Face, considering the pandimonium cause by the fire alarms, the troops would have left their posts, leaving an easy route," Hannibal smiled as he climbed out the window and jumped back in as bullets ricocheted off the side of the building, "Then again, I could be wrong."

Suddenly, there were voices at the door. Hannibal mouthed "Decker!" and motioned for Face to hide by the door. BA burst in with Decker behind him and Decker paused when he was greeted by a smiling Hannibal chomping on a cigar and his guards unconscious and bound on the floor.

Hannibal's grin grew wider, "Hiya Colonel. You're buddies would say hi, but they're a little tied up at the moment. Face,"

Face stepped out behind Col. Decker with a pistol aimed at his head and said, "Drop it, Colonel." BA turned around and grabbed the gun from Decker.

After BA tied Decker to the chair, he turned to Hannibal and asked, "Hannibal, how are we gonna get out of here? This place is swarming with guards."

"Relax, BA, just wait until Face gets back with Murdock and I'll take care of everything. I've got a plan, don't worry."

"Hannibal, whenever you say 'Don't worry', it always makes me more worried."

At that point, Face returned with Murdock, who grasped Raphael's shredded body in his hands and sobbed, "Oh, poor, poor, Raphael, he had a litter of bunnies on the way you know."

Face nodded, "I know Murdock, but at least he went down in the line of duty, remember that."

BA turned and looked at Murdock, "What's that crazy fool going on about now?"

Murdock replied, "You murderer! You sent Raphael out there to die!"
"Shut up fool! I don' wanna hear no crazy talk about yo' bunny slippers!"

"How can you live with yourself? Now Suzanne will have to raise the kids on her own! The poor babies will grow up without a father!"
Hannibal stepped in as BA lunged toward Murdock and said, "Calm down, fellas, let's get out of here."

Face looked at him, "And how do you plan to do that, Colonel?"
"Why, with a little help from our friend, Col. Decker," the four men all looked at Decker, bound and gagged in the chair...

<To be continued.....?>

Last issue's question was:

>What was the name of Tawnia's fiance in "Bend in the River"?

The answer was supplied correctly by Andrew Ariens and DDMESSER%[email protected] (Denise.Messer) who knew that it was BRIAN LEFTCOURT.

This issue's question is:

>In "Lease with an Option to Die," what was Mrs. Baracas's address?
Well, that's finally everything, this issue is too big already and I still have a transcript from the Backchat show on fX to get to. It'll have to wait until next issue, I suppose. So, until then, stay on the jazz!

sockii, aka nicole
"Reports of my assimilation have been greatly exaggerated."
Proud member of the Narn Bat Squad <Whack!> and the C.o.M.

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