In honor of the one year anniversary of WebcomicUnderdogs.com, we asked our members to come up with an origin story for our mascot, Space Lincoln. Behold the winning story, written by the incomparable Jerry Mcmasters! Our beloved Space Lincoln now has a history, and his history is pure gold.
Space Lincoln Origin Story by Jerry Mcmasters
Did I know Space Lincoln? Of course I knew Space Lincoln. But that’s what you call him. I remember him from a time before that, back when he was just Lincoln Lincoln…Abraham I believe they called him. He was President of the United States, you know.
He comes to me and says: “John”…that’s my name, John, and he says “John…” and this was some time back, mind you; my memory ain’t what it was. But I remember his face, that expression, those eyes just set and blazing, real determined.
And he says “John, I done all I can do here, the race is run. The war is fought and won…or close enough….and the slaves are freed. But there’s…other slaves need freein’ out there.” And he kinda cocks his head and looks up. I knew what he meant.
“Yes, Mr. President.” I said.
“John, you think all those alien slave masters in outer space are gonna understand the Emancipation Proclamation?”
“I don’t know, Mr. President…I ain’t sure the rebs understand it here.”
Lincoln chuckled for a second, then asked if it was ready. “It” was my super-special super-secret single person inter-space inter-time travel vehicle…Eli Whitney ain’t got nuthin’on me.
Lincoln’s eyes got big when I showed it to him. “Ain’t steam powered, is it?”
I shook my head. He contorted his tall lanky frame into the cockpit, his knees about touching his chin. He put on the helmet. “Like this?” he asked.
I nodded. “Just push that button there” I said. “Steer it like the old days; outer space ain’t different from the Mississippi River, just bigger.”
And he gave me this smile and there was this twinkle in his eye, and I just knew…well, I wouldn’t want to be in the shoes of a slave-owner on Mars…or Jupiter…or…well, he ended up going to quite a few places, didn’t he?
“John…” he said quietly moments before blasting off, “You know, I’m still President of the United States, and we’re technically still locked in a war with the South…lots of things still at stake…I can’t just disappear; the commander-in-chief can’t just…disappear. You’re a theatrical person, John, perhaps you can…take care of it?”
I nodded. “I’ve already thought of that, Mr. President. You’re going to be a martyr.”
He looked a bit puzzled but seemed satisfied. “Thank you, John.”
We shook hands, mine engulfed by his giant paw.
I stepped away and in a moment he was gone, upward and onward to do great things…I went on to some…less favorable fame of my own.
But to answer your question: Yes, I knew Space Lincoln.
Illustration by Michael Yakutis.