By Jennifer Baker

Summary: Deep in the swamps of Texas, the mysterious figure known as "that Zoomway person" calls upon her network of spies to create repercussions felt around the world — and in Hollywood, too. :-)

L&C-Files (or what happens when FOLCs eat too much Chinese on too few new episodes)

— based on a conversation (kind of :-) with Gloria Barnes


It was a dark and moonless night deep in the swamps of Texas. She sat in the semi-dark, and turned the final page of the last script. Glancing up, she saw that the clock read 11:21. It was time.

She set the script down, and moved to a nearby shelf. She picked up the roll of masking tape sitting on the shelf before stepping over to the room's only window. She ripped off several pieces and stuck them on the window. When she was done, she looked her handi-work over. There, in front of her on the window , a clearly formed S. Now, it was time to wait.


The S had only been up on the window in Texas for a few minutes, when a figure somewhere entirely different went into action. Moving to a nearby pile, the figure reached out, lifting off the top script. The script was slipped into a box, carefully labeled, and surreptitiously placed in a nearby mailbox.


Meanwhile, back in the swamps, the woman glanced back at her watch. It was time to stop making tuna salad and go into action. She left the house, carefully checking to ensure no one had seen her leave. She made her way to the mailbox, and slowly opened it. Glancing quickly inside, she found what she was looking for. It was the box. Pulling the script out, she quickly moved back into the house. The new information was there. She sat down and read the story. Excellent! Just what she had suspected. Time to reveal the truth to the rest of the FOLCs. A truth known as: Blackjack!


It was spread quickly amongst the FOLCs. A whispered word: Blackjack. Many did not understand the truth, but many did. And the ones who did knew that, indeed, the truth *was* out there.


In an office near to the seat of power at Burbank studios, TSM (The Supervising-producer Man) leaned forward, his eyes bright.

"Singer," he said to the man behind the large desk, "we have to do something. That Zoomway person has become a liability, and must be stopped."

"What do you mean?"

"Blackjack, Bob, blackjack. She knows about it, and there's no telling what will happen if she can get other people to believe it. We might have to," TSM's voice wavered a bit as he continued, "admit that she was right. Has been right. It *is* the relationship people want, and our bid for more action has proven disastrous. We must prevent this at all costs."

"What do you suggest we do? Prevent her from letting others know the information she has received?"

"No. We have tried that. Our attempts to sabotage her modem did not work. In spite of replacing the one she had with a Gak2400, she still manages to communicate. And our teams have repeatedly had her kicked off the IRC, but to no avail. She keeps getting through! For all its danger, her persistence is admirable. No, I'm afraid we will have to try something much more permanent."

"You mean…"

"Yes, I do. We have to Plug The Leak."


And so the adventure begins.