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Crisis on Infinite Message Boards - Trade Paperback Edition!

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Issue 12, Part 1E: Dressing For Success

 

 

The stranger is played by Drummy.

 

Issue 12, Part 1E: Dressing For Success

 

"Psst -- let's go," whispers the invisible Where'd He Go.

 

Flame War and Brick put down their imaginary knives, admiring their imaginary whittling. Flame war had made a small statuette of a naked woman and Brick had made a tub of Parkay.

 

The 3 men, looking more like 2 men because WHG is still invisible, slip behind the general store into an empty alley. WHG becomes visible, showing off a huge haul of western wear.

 

"Wow! Cool!" says Flame War, grabbing a pearl-buttoned, purple shirt.

 

"Whadja get me?" asks Brick, eagerly.

 

WHG drops the clothes on a nearby crate, looks through the bundle and pulls out a pair of extremely large, dark blue underwear. "The only thing in your size. Sorry."

 

Brick is about to explode when he stops to think. "I guess it's normal for superheroes to wear underwear on the outside. Just don't tell the other guys. Mylite gets grief for wearing short shorts -- imagine what me and my Calvins would start!"

 

Flame War finishes dressing. He looks like a fake cowboy in a Hollywood movie.

 

"You are now officially gay," says Brick, laughing at his Dude-wear.

 

"Shut up, underoo! I look fantastic. School marms are going to be lined up at my feet."

 

Meanwhile, WHG turns invisible and gets dressed. He is too modest to change in front of the others. No one cares.

 

"How do I look?" WHG asks, becoming visible again. He is dressed in Levis, a homespun, nut brown shirt with a leather vest, chaps, and spurs, with a Colt 45 holstered at his waist. His white cowboy hat is tilted ever so slightly at a rakish angle.

 

"Pretty ordinary."

 

"That was my plan. I like blending in. Not getting noticed."

 

"Being invisible?"

 

"Yeah... kinda."

 

"Whooda thunk it." Flame War twirls his sidearm, fumbles the gun into his holster, then tips his black hat with one finger. "Ma'am. I hear you've got trouble on this yar ranch. Name's Flame. I'm here to help."

 

"Name's Flame. I'm here to date your sons," mimics Brick, laughing.

 

Flame War shoots him several times, but it only makes Brick laugh harder.

 

"Quit wasting ammunition!" says WHG.

 

"Sorry. He ticks me off, that's all. He's just jealous because I'm ruggedly handsome, and ooze charm."

 

"You're oozing, all right, but it's not--"

 

"What's going on back here?" asks a voice from the head of the alley. "I heard shots." He is silhouetted by the harsh western sun, which makes a halo around his shadowed head. He's big -- around 6'4" and 250 pounds of solid muscle. He walks slowly forward with the gait of a man who's spent most of his life in the saddle. His spurs make a scraping jingle as he walks. It's an ominous sound, and the 3 friends pause, unsure what to say. Flame War clears his throat.

 

"Target practice," says Flame War, holstering his pistol and adjusting his hat. "You got a problem with that?" The last word comes out a wee bit too squeaky for his taste.

 

"Yeah I got a problem with that." The stranger is now standing right in front of the men and they get their first good look at him. He has the weathered face of the Marlboro Man. A black mustache frames his harsh mouth, downturned in disapproval. A square jaw and piercing blue eyes complete the picture. This is a cowboy. An authentic cowboy. The genuine article. The real McCoy. But on which side of the law does he reside? The guys look for a badge, but his chest is free of adornment.

 

"We're... um... sorry..." mumbles Flame War.

 

The stranger's right hand hovers near his holstered gun. With the left, he removes the matchstick he had been chewing on. "We got laws in Tombstone. You don't shoot unless your target is breathing. Ya got it?"

 

"Uh huh."

 

"And who might you be?" asks Brick. Even though he is invulnerable, this stranger still has the ability to frighten him, and he doesn't like it.

 

"You ain't from these parts," the stranger says, eyeing Brick from top to bottom. "We never had no spongy bod square pants types 'round here before."

 

"I'm not spongy. They call me The Brick."

 

The stranger pauses, a small smile pushing at his mustache. "You ain't seen my mug before. That's good. Too many people think they know all about me."

 

WHG sees an opportunity to slip behind Flame War and as soon as he is blocked from the stranger's view, he disappears.

 

"Where'd he go?" asks the stranger.

 

"You know my name?" says WHG, startled into talking while invisible.

 

"Who said that?"

 

"He's on first," says Brick, smiling in spite of himself.

 

"What are you talking about? Are you making fun of me?" asks the stranger, his hand twitching nearer to his gun.

 

"Utshay, upay," murmurs Flame War to Brick.

 

"You Mexican or something?" asks the stranger.

 

"No, my apologies. I'm Flame War. You've met The Brick. And our suddenly absent friend is WHG, short for 'Where'd He Go'. You can see why we found your question amusing." Flame War was aware of vast amounts of sweat rolling down his back, under his arms, and from the brim of his hat. His smile widened to compensate.

 

"Kid Twister, hired gun."

 

"Kid Twister -- nice to meet you," says Brick, holding out his hand. "So, what brings you to these parts? Or are you a local?"

 

"The Earps sent for me. Clantons are causing trouble and he wanted back-up."

 

"Wyatt Earp?"

 

"The Clantons?"

 

"Tombstone?"

 

"Oh geez."

 

 

 

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Issue 12, Part 1F: The Results of a Hissy Fit

 

Appearing in this issue:

 

Lord Rawl (Lord Rahl)

The corpse of Dr. Gloom (Joe Collector)

A disembodied voice

A mysterious woman

Prof. Nefarious (Bronty)

Assoc. Prof. Heinous (AlexH)

 

 

 

 

 

Issue 12, Part 1F: The Results of a Hissy Fit

 

Lord Rawl looks at the corpse of Dr. Gloom. "That does not bode well for this visit." Briefly, he considers leaving the mysterious boarding house with the eerie, disembodied voice, the corpse of a seemingly healthy man, and the fire that radiates no heat whatsoever. Then he pictures the beautiful woman who met him at the door, and decides to stay. "It would be rude to leave without spank-- er thanking her."

 

"Who are you talking to?" asks the disembodied voice.

 

"No one. Just thinking out loud."

 

"Oh. Okay." The voice goes silent.

 

Just then, the woman comes in carrying a shot of Scotch. "What happened to your friend?" she asks, her sultry voice caressing each word.

 

Rawl notices she only brought one drink, despite the fact that she had no way of knowing Gloom had died. He decides it's coincidence. "He was not really a friend, more of a colleague. We're super-villains. Well, he was a super-villain, that is, until his sudden demise. Now he is, at best, compost."

 

The woman shoves Gloom out of the chair and takes the seat. "There's a graveyard out back. We can bury him in the middle of the night. As is custom around here," she adds hastily.

 

Rawl nods his head, poking the body with the toe of his wingtip. "He loved to speak of his hyper-intelligence. I guess he wasn't as proud of his hyper-tension."

 

"So you've decided to tell yourself it was a heart attack? Very good, I'll go with that, too."

 

Rawl takes a sip of his drink, the grandfather clock ticking a rhythmic pattern into his thoughts. "A lovely clock. 19th century?"

 

"Yes, Pickford of Liverpool, 1840. Too bad it doesn't work."

 

"But... I hear it ticking."

 

"I don't hear anything."

 

"It's quite loud, actually."

 

"Ticking? Really?"

 

"The pendulum is moving, and it displays the correct time."

 

"Even a broken clock is correct twice a day."

 

"But the excessively loud ticking -- you truly don't hear it?"

 

"I hear the crackle of the fire, the soft hum of the refrigerator, and the honeyed timbre of your voice, but ticking? No. No ticking. Would you like a tour of the house?"

 

Rawl feels that standing would be inappropriate at that moment, due to the effect her beauty and the compliment she'd just paid him are having on his... biology. He holds up his half-empty glass. "If it is all right with you, I'd like to finish this first."

 

"All right. Lots of people have difficulty drinking and walking at the same time, I've noticed. Well, mostly men. Come to think of it, it's always men. I give them a drink, chat a bit, and they never take me up on the tour until quite some time has passed."

 

"Have there been a lot of men?"

 

"This is a boarding house. I get all kinds here. And I'm pleased to say I've serviced them all."

 

Rawl crosses his legs. "You don't say."

 

"A room and 3 meals a day, $5.00. It's a fair price."

 

"Yes, yes, the rooms. $5.00 seems more than fair. In fact, it's downright inexpensive."

 

"I'm glad you think so. So many come in here expecting me to give it away. I always tell them, 'It's not 1949 anymore. Times change, things go up."

 

"Yes, things do go up," he says, shifting his leg to mask more of his body. The ticking of the clock seems to grow louder. He knows he has to change the subject and desperately searches his mind for an innocuous topic. "So... that disembodied voice in your house. Had that long?"

 

Just then, there is a knock at the door.

 

"Excuse me," she says. Gliding gracefully across the room, she opens the door. Two men stand in the doorway, soaked to the skin from the violent, slashing storm that rages outside.

 

"Have you any rooms for two travelers on this beastly night?" one of the men asks.

 

"Of course, come in. Have a seat. Allow me to take your coats and hats." They hand her their overcoats and hats. She leaves the room to put them away.

 

"A fire! Just what the doctor ordered," says the taller of the two. He sees Rawl and extends his hand. "Duckworth P. Bronty, Canadian super-villain. Though you may know me by my nom de villainy, 'Professor Nefarious'. And this is my associate, Alexander Hattaboy."

 

"Canadian super-villain-in-training, known to the world as 'Associate Professor Heinous,'" Alex adds. "But you may call me Heiny. Everyone does."

 

"I am Lord Rawl, ruler of the 17th dimension, master of the xathosphere. I'm pleased to meet you both."

 

The two newcomers shove Gloom's corpse into a corner, then grab the small divan his body had been blocking. "Is he one of yours?" Nefarious asks, pointing to the carcass.

 

"Excuse me?"

 

"Victims. The object of your villainy."

 

"Oh! Oh, no. That's Dr. Gloom, former Canadian super-villain. I'm not sure what caused his unfortunate demise, so I'm pretending it was a heart attack."

 

"We'll pretend so, too!" says Heiny.

 

"Go! Go from this place! Go while you still live! Or beware the consequences!" says the disembodied voice.

 

"Here, now, what's this?" asks Nefarious.

 

"It's a disembodied voice," says Rawl. "Apparently, it greets all the visitors with the same message."

 

"What a friendly idea," says Heiny. "I suppose it's because that stunningly beautiful woman who greeted us takes quite some time to hang up a couple of pieces of outerwear."

 

"I must install one in my lair," says Nefarious.

 

"Oh, do, Professor. You have so many wonderfully inventive touches, that would be icing on the cake."

 

"Consider it done, Heiny."

 

"I'm flattered," says the disembodied voice.

 

"My pleasure."

 

The voice giggles.

 

"I do believe you've charmed her," says Heiny. "He has such a way with the ladies," he adds with a wink to Rawl.

 

Rawl is suddenly less happy to see the two men. "Is that so?"

 

"Perhaps I should go see what's happened to our hostess?" says Nefarious.

 

"No!" shouts Rawl, shooting to his feet. "I mean, I'll do it. You two have just arrived. Relax... attempt to warm yourselves by the fire. I'll get her. We're well acquainted, and I know my way around," he lies.

 

"As you wish."

 

Rawl quickly leaves the room through the door where the woman had disappeared with the coats. He finds himself in a hallway with three doors, two of which are open. One is a bathroom, the other appears to be the master bedroom. Both are empty. The third door is shut. Slowly seeping from the narrow space at the bottom is a thick, crimson pool of blood.

 

To be continued...

 

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Chapter 12, Part 1H: At long, long last!

 

Appearing in this issue:

 

Flying Donut (Flying Donut) Flight

Lighthouse (Lighthouse) eye beams

Spelling Bee (PovertyRow) flight, stinger

Raspberry Toaster Pastry (Darthdeisel) flight, goo

KostumeKween (MajorKhaos) not all that deceased Week Guy (NewtSamson) Lord of Time Stream

Month Guy (Johnny Double) Lord of Time Stream

 

Chapter 12, Part 1H: At long, long last!

 

Flying Donut, Lighthouse, Spelling Bee, Raspberry Toaster Pastry and KostumeKween tumble through the time stream toward the beginning of time. Their freefall is ungainly, uncoordinated, and painful as they bounce off the walls into each other.

 

"Knock it off, Bee!" shouts KK, rubbing the eye that moments ago had been invaded by Bee's elbow.

 

"Like I can help it! Ack! Sorry, 'House."

 

"Gnnnfff!" House grabs his stomach, the wind knocked out of him. The impact sends him hurtling into Donut's groin.

 

"Eeep!" Donut's voice is now a high-pitched squeak. He blacks out, but his body, also reeling from the impact, heads straight toward Bee, who is bounced toward RTP. Bee tries to stop his motion, his hands outthrust. Both hands land, as if targeted, on RTP's chest.

 

"Quit trying to cop a feel, ya damn geezer!" shouts RTP. Unfortunately, Bee's grasp unleashes RTP's powers and she both squirts prodigious amounts of goo and begins spiraling out of control, with Bee still hanging on for dear life.

 

Newt and Jonny ride the time flow comfortably, as if lying on their backs on a rubber raft in a drowsy stream.

 

"Newbies," says Newt.

 

"Tell me about it," says Jonny. He glances downstream and reluctantly readies himself. "Prepare for the landing, people!"

 

"Prepare?" asks House. "How does one--"

 

There is no time to finish his sentence as abruptly, they are all tossed heavily onto a four lane highway in the middle of rush hour traffic. Newt and Jonny casually stroll to the side of the road, miraculously able to avoid any vehicles.

 

The impact has given Donut back his consciousness, so he quickly grabs House, and flies him off the road. Bee manages to squeeze the proper breast to get RTP and himself to safety. KK sees the word "Peterbilt" heading straight for him, and he leaps into the air just in time.

 

"Thank you, powers of Kara. We won't forget you!" he says, straightening his Supergirl costume, and landing gracefully near the group. "So... what's for dinner? I'm starving."

 

"This is the beginning of time?" asks RTP, a little disappointed. "I thought it would be more low tech. This doesn't look any different from the 21st century. Where's the primordial soup?"

 

"Mmm... primordial soup..." Homers KK.

 

"This is the beginning of time, not the start of life on earth. That happens way later. The beginning of time is sort of like Reno, without the gambling."

 

"What's Reno without the gambling?" asks House.

 

"This place. C'mon. We need to get him to the hospital," says Jonny, pointing to Bee.

 

"I agree," says RTP. "We need to have him surgically removed from my breasts!!"

 

"Oops. My bad." Bee removes his hands reluctantly. "She used to be a guy, she used to be a guy..." he repeats under his breath.

 

They begin walking toward a small city on the horizon.

 

"Do we have to walk? These shoes are killing me," says RTP, her stiletto heels sinking into the mud.

 

"Yes. Your powers are useless here," says Newt.

 

"But... we all just flew a moment ago," says Donut.

 

"Don't you recognize a retcon when you hear one?" shouts Jonny. "All of your powers are useless, and always have been since you arrived, so you are to forget everything that happened prior to this moment!" Jonny glares at all the participants until they nod agreement. "Damn continuity freaks," he mutters.

 

"Is that why I'm dressed as a Bee again? I could've sworn I was turned into a Wasp awhile back, but nothing ever came of it."

 

"Stop with your nitpicking, and your inability to accept new things only to have them replaced by old things!"

 

"Do I still get to be called Flying Donut, now that I can't fly?" He begins to hover. "Wait a second... I can fly. A second ago, I couldn't, but--"

 

"The retcon was unpopular, so the retcon got retconned. In the beginning of time things change, you got it? It's the beginning. It's all experimental at this point. Some things work, others don't, nothing has consequences, except for those things that do have consequences, though there's no way to tell which is which because it's the beginning of time. Is that clear?"

 

"Please stop saying 'the beginning of time!'" says Bee.

 

"Do they serve food at the beginning of time?" asks KK, smiling innocently at Bee. "I have to watch my blood sugar, and it's been hours since I've eaten."

 

"Supergirl never had blood sugar problems," says House.

 

"Yeah, well, I ran into some Red Kryptonite last Tuesday. It gave me glucose problems, a trick knee, and turned me into a talking stalk of broccoli for 24 hours."

 

"Bummer."

 

"It happens."

 

"The hospital is just over that hill," says Jonny.

 

The group walks the last few steps and are treated to a wide vista of the city at the beginning of time. The large, white hospital building is clearly visible in the foreground.

 

"What's that?" asks RTP.

 

Running toward them is a giant red blob, being urged on by a frightened young man. Behind them is a murderous-looking gang of biker thugs.

 

"No idea," says Newt. "But they're coming straight for us."

 

To be continued...

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Issue 12, Part 2A: Still Lost in Time

 

Solar Powers in the Time of Dinosaurs

 

Mercury (Dam60) flight, heat, speed

Venus (CosmicBob) flight, love

Earth (Ubiquiti) flight, power over dirt

Mars (Mushroom) flight, warrior skills

Uranus (Old Guy) flight, noxious scent

Saturn (Odin) flight, energy rings

Jupiter (BronzeBruce) flight, gas

Neptune (Zonker) flight, water

Pluto (hkp) flight, ice

 

Issue 12, Part 2A: Still Lost in Time

 

The planets step lightly over the fried carcass of the T-Rex. They hear some distant roaring and realize that the smell of freshly roasted meat is drawing a crowd.

 

"Dinos at 2 o'clock -- and they're wearing bibs!" says Pluto.

 

"Time to hover?" asks Neptune.

 

"Up, up, and orbit!" shouts Jupiter as the thundering footsteps of hungry carnivores draws near.

 

The planets launch themselves skyward just as a family of raptors arrives.

 

"Count off!" shouts Jupiter.

 

"Mercury!"

 

"Venus!"

 

"Earth!"

 

"Mars!"

 

"Saturn!"

 

"Jupiter!"

 

"Neptune!"

 

"Pluto!"

 

There's a moment of silence while everyone glances at his fingers. "That was only eight," says Jupiter. "Who didn't count off?"

 

"Hmmm... let's see... there was me, Venus, Earth, Mars... um..."

 

"Uranus!" says Saturn.

 

"Shut up, Saturn, I'm trying to count. This is no time for stupid butt jokes."

 

"Look below, Braniac."

 

Mercury glances down at the T-Rex carcass and sees Uranus is growling at a family of raptors. "What the blazes are you doing, you insufficiently_thoughtful_person?" Merc shouts.

 

"They're after our kill!" answers Uranus. "I'm keeping them at bay with my powers of noxious scent, but I fear they like it. It does rather resemble rotting eggs and week-old meat -- with just a hint of skunk for flavor." A raptor leaps at Uranus, but he ducks out of the way. "It's mine, I tell you! Shoo!"

 

"Get up here, now!" shouts Jupiter.

 

Uranus pulls out his keys and uses the tiny little Swiss Army knife keychain to cut the T-Rex meat. He lets off another blast of noxious scent while his back is turned, and the raptors start leaping around in ecstasy.

 

"I think the one on the left is in love," says Mars.

 

Saturn shoots off an energy ring and knocks down a raptor that was closing to within inches of Uranus. "Got him!"

 

The other raptors look around, confused. They sniff their fallen comrade, then begin eating him.

 

"Almost done..." says Uranus, cutting the last edge of an enormous haunch of meat. "There!" He turns around only to find himself eye to eye with a raptor. "Niiiice, doggy..." Quickly, he leaps into the air just as the raptor rakes the air where he'd been standing with his enormous toe claw. "Ha! Missed me! Suckaaah!"

 

"Very mature," says Pluto.

 

"What did you think you were doing?" asks Venus, when Uranus takes his orbiting position.

 

"I'm hungry. Besides, who else has ever had grilled T-Rex?"

 

"What does it taste like?" asks Saturn.

 

"Tastes like chicken. Guess they really are the ancestors of birds."

 

"I want some," says Earth.

 

"No way! I almost gave my life for this happy meal!" says Uranus, guarding the huge chunk of T-Rex. "Hey, Merc -- could you give this a little more flame? It's a tad pinkish."

 

"Only if you give me half."

 

"A quarter."

 

"Deal."

 

"Whoa! I asked first!" says Earth.

 

"Yeah, but he's got the power of the Bar-B-Que."

 

Mercury sticks his tongue out at Earth, carefully flames the meat and takes his portion. "Wow, that's delicious!"

 

"Please share," says Earth in a tiny voice.

 

"I hate it when you get all pathetic. Here, you can have one bite." Merc hands him the haunch.

 

Earth takes a bite. "Rrooh! Faffaashick!"

 

"Don't talk with your mouth full."

 

"Look!" shouts Jupiter. "I think I see cave men!"

 

"Impossible," says Mars. "Cave men never lived in the time of dinosaurs."

 

"Tell that to those Neanderthals over there."

 

A tribe of Neanderthals is gathered around a fire, feasting on fresh Mammoth.

 

"That doesn't make any sense."

 

"They always had cave men with dinosaurs in the comics," says Pluto, helpfully.

 

"That's right!" says Saturn. "Comics never cared about historical accuracy. So what does this mean? Are we back in time or are we in some sort of bizarre comic book come to life?"

 

"Who cares? I recognize some of those guys!" says Venus. "Check out the spandex -- it's the Hostess Hoard!"

 

"Holy cow -- it is! What are they doing here?" asks Neptune.

 

"This is so wrong. There shouldn't be cave men and there really shouldn't be superheroes with cave men."

 

"Maybe they've found the time portal?" asks Mercury.

 

"Let's go ask them," says Jupiter. "Solar Powers -- follow me!"

 

"Yeah, like we wouldn't know where to go if you weren't leading us." Uranus takes another bite. "Who wants the rest of this? I don't want to fill up in case we get to try mammoth."

 

Earth takes the rest of the haunch happily. "Mmmm... T-Rex."

 

Happily orbiting their way toward the Neanderthals, the Solar Powers barely notice a small "whoosh!" as they cross from one world to another.

 

To be continued

 

 

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Issue 12, Part 2B: Forbidden Love

 

 

The Hostess Hoard

 

Twinkie (Hogations) goo

Snowball (The Beyonder) goo

Ding Dong (Aman) goo

Ho Ho (Ninanina) goo

Fruit Pie (JLA All the Way) goo

Cupcake (Doyle) goo

Susie Q (Andrew Knight) goo

 

 

Issue 12, Part 2B: Forbidden Love

 

Big Red, the head of the small tribe of Neanderthals, is running back and forth down the long valley on a sugar high of Paleolithic proportions. The rest of his tribe chase him, with the exception of his daughter, Goo. Goo and Snowball are nowhere to be found.

 

"Anyone seen Snowball?" asks Cupcake.

 

"I think he went into the cave with Goo to see her etchings," says Fruit Pie.

 

"Neanderthals don't do etchings. That's a Cro-Magnon thing," says Twinkie.

 

"Whatever."

 

"Do we need to find him?" asks Ding Dong.

 

"I think we need to stop introducing foreign products like creamy Hostess filling into the diets of Neanderthals," says Ho Ho, watching the chasing tribesmen.

 

"They run funny," says Susie Q.

 

"What do you suppose Snowball is talking about with a Neanderthal chick? It's not like they speak the same language," says Cupcake.

 

"You wanna break them up? Be my guest. I'm too full of mammoth to care," says Twinkie, popping a seam on his spandex. "Dangit. Anyone have a needle and sinew I can borrow?"

 

"I'm going to go look for him," says Cupcake, trying to get to his feet. The energy needed to stand proves too much and he plops back down. "In about an hour."

 

"Wise decision. Ding Dong need nap. Him sleep now. Unh." Ding Dong closes his eyes and is soon snoring loudly.

 

"Ding Dong need therapist," mumbles Ho Ho. "Does he think that sounded like the Neanderthals? Because it didn't. I found their grammar to be surprisingly advanced."

 

"Don't freaking pretend you understand them, you liar!" Fruit Pie says with a sneer.

 

"Was I, or was I not the one who, halfway through dinner, passed the beetle paste to Big Red when asked? Answer that and we'll see who's lying."

 

"He pointed at the bowl and grunted. The rest of us were stymied by that complex and erudite example of hominid communication. Thank Grog the Magic Tree Toad you were there to interpret!"

 

"Heh. Tree Toad," chuckles Susie Q.

 

"But I was right! He wanted the beetle paste, I gave him the beetle paste, and he thanked me for it!"

 

"He blew his nose in his hand and wiped the snot on your sleeve!"

 

"A gesture of gratitude!"

 

"Shut up the both of you! Some of us are trying to nap!" says Ding Dong.

 

"You started this!" shrieks Ho Ho.

 

"On what planet? I was asleep!"

 

Ho Ho, Ding Dong, and Fruit Pie stand, ready to fight.

 

Twinkie glances at them, listening to them grunt and posture, then looks toward the meadow and sees the Neanderthals are now picking flowers and chasing butterflies. "Aaaand all is right with the world. Carry on, men!" He turns his back and goes to sleep.

 

Meanwhile...

 

Inside the cave, Goo and Snowball stop listening to the fight and turn back to each other.

 

"It'll never work. We're from two different worlds," says Snowball. Gosh, she's awful pretty when she isn't in direct sunlight. Those deep brown eyes, full lips, and flat nose really compliment the overhanging brow ridges, lack of chin and occipital lobe. I wonder if I have a chance with her?

 

"Gruh nkkkt mablt, Snnnnbl," says Goo. He's so dreamy. None of the other girls know any boys with chins. If only my parents weren't so old-fashioned. So what if his kind have small throwing spears instead of big thrusting ones. Big spears aren't everything. My friend Blehhh says that it's not the size of the spear, it's how you use it. Besides, thrusting is soooo [!@#%^&^] erectus.

 

"I wish I knew what you were thinking, Goo." Kiss her! Kiss her! Kiss her, you wuss! Now, while she's unarmed!

 

"Blllt mnbg flurk, Snnnbl." This is so frustrating! If only we had more vowels, I know I could communicate with him! I guess I'll just have to use the universal language of horniness.

 

Goo reaches over and softly caresses Snowball's cheek. The answering sparkle in his eyes gives her strength so she rips his clothing off with one powerful stroke and begins screeching wildly in the age-old Neanderthal mating ritual. Snowball screams, trying to cover his nakedness but he is instantly pinned beneath her voluptuous, hairy body.

 

Moments before...

 

"What's that up there?" asks Susie Q, interrupting the all-out brawl between Ho Ho, Ding Dong, and Fruit Pie.

 

"Wha...?" asks Twinkie, sleepily. He glances toward the sky where Susie Q is pointing. Nine figures are orbiting toward them on a steady path. "If it weren't impossible, I'd say that's the Solar Powers."

 

The outermost orbiting figure waves and they hear a faint shout. "Yo! Hostess!"

 

"It is the Solar Powers!" says Susie Q. Wonder what they're doing here?"

 

Just then, they all hear a piercing Neanderthal wail from inside the cave. It's followed shortly by a high-pitched scream human scream.

 

"Anyone want to go check on Snowball?" asks Twinkie.

 

"In a bit. I want to see what the Solar Powers are doing here."

 

"Me, too."

 

"Yeah, me too."

 

"Okee doke. I'm sure he's fine," says Twinkie, rising to greet their fellow superheroes.

 

To be continued...

 

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Issue 12, Part 2c: Gotta Find Me Some Action

 

The N'Superables

 

Emoticon (BachelorOfComix) can be any emoticon

Rerun (Araich) TV in belly

Alias (Bonds) can split into 12

Mylite (greggy) slabbed, irresistible

Dirk Diamond (MinuteKev) Private Eye

 

Issue 12, Part 2c: Gotta Find Me Some Action

 

 

Dirk Diamond, Private Eye, leaves the N'Superables when he finally figures out that they haven't any money. The group is despondent, and sit on a park bench, trying to figure out their next move. Alias is reading a discarded newspaper while Mylite looks over his shoulder. Rerun turns all the channels on his belly, but can only get static.

 

"I don't get it! There's nothing here. Static... static... more static... static..."

 

"You gonna say that with every channel? You have about 600 or so," says Emoticon.

 

"Maybe."

 

"Turn the page," says Mylite.

 

"I'm not done yet," says Alias.

 

"I am, so turn the page, already."

 

"Shut up! I'm reading here."

 

"What is so fascinating?"

 

"They found the mummy of a Neanderthal in a glacier. Totally preserved. But here's the weird part." He reads aloud,"'An analysis of the contents of his stomach showed a substance with the same chemical formula as that of the creamy filling found in Hostess Twinkies and Ho Ho's.' Bizarre, huh?"

 

"...static... static... static... static..."

 

"Yeah. Turn the page."

 

"In a second. What's up your butt? We're talking a Neanderthal here, man!"

 

"Is the Neanderthal me? Because if the Neanderthal isn't me, I'm not interested. Turn the page."

 

"Let's see... continued on page 4..."

 

"...static... static... static..."

 

"Not page 4! The next page, doofus!"

 

"Is your slab too tight? I don't want to turn to the next page. I want to read about the Snack Cake Cave Man. That's what they're calling him. How would a cave man get his hands on a Hostess Twinkie?"

 

"...static... static... static..."

 

"SHUT UP!!!" screams Emoticon. He tries to turn into an angry smiley with an axe, but nothing happens. He tries again, this time shooting for an army smiley with a bazooka. Still nothing. "Uh oh."

 

"...static... static... what? Static... static..."

 

"I can't turn."

 

"Turn the page!"

 

"No! Get your own paper!"

 

"...static... static... turn what? Static... static..."

 

"I can't turn into an emoticon! My powers! They're... ::gasp:: gone!"

 

Everyone turns to emoticon. Rerun stops changing his channels, Alias puts down the paper, Mylite steals the paper.

 

"Your powers are gone?" asks Alias.

 

"Mine too!" says Rerun. "All I get is static!"

 

"This isn't good."

 

"No TV," mumbles Mylite.

 

"What?"

 

"TV. There wasn't much being broadcast in freaking 1938, you know."

 

"Was it even invented?" asks Emoticon.

 

"Yeah, but it didn't really catch on until after World War II."

 

"So what does that have to do with my not being able to turn into things?"

 

"Personal computers, email, the net -- emoticons? 1938? Getting the picture?"

 

"I can't get a picture," whines Rerun.

 

Alias splits himself into 12 people, just to check. His powers work.

 

"You look particulary nice today, Mylite," says one of his aliases.

 

"Thank you, I--"

 

From behind, a second alias snatches the paper while the others laugh. "Suckahhhh!" Alias quickly reintegrates and goes back to reading the paper.

 

"That's it? 'You haven't been invented yet' and then back to your stupid newspaper? This is a crisis!"

 

"Duh," says Mylite, checking the thread title.

 

"So, boys, you still on the nut?" says Dirk Diamond, approaching the four despondent superheroes.

 

"Yeah, we're still broke," says Rerun. When the others look at him, he says, "I watched a lot of gangster films on my stomach."

 

"Don't mind us, Dirk. We're a little depressed because Rerun is here before World War II, Emoticon is here before the internet, and Mylite is just here," says Alias, playing keep-away with the paper.

 

"World War II?" asks Dirk, then he shakes his head. "You mean the Great War, but it's over."

 

"Nah, we're talking the Hitler version," says Emoticon.

 

Dirk laughs. "That Hitler fellow, he's full of hooey. Don't mind him. The frenchies'll take care of that sap."

 

"Give me the paper!" says Mylite, now not even able to read over his shoulder.

 

"You need something to read? Here," says Dirk. He pulls a folded copy of Action Comics #1 out of his jacket pocket and holds it out to Mylite.

 

"You... f-f-f-folded it... ::gnork::"

 

"Just picked it up at the newsstand. Bought it for the Pep Morgan story. But don't let the title fool you -- it may have action, but it ain't much on comedy."

 

Mylite stares at the once minty-fresh Action Comics #1, now with a non-color-breaking creased down the center. "::gnork::"

 

"Here, I opened it to Pep for ya." Before Mylite can move, Dirk opens the comic, folds back the cover, then runs his nail down the edge to keep the cover turned.

 

"::Snnggrkkt::" Mylite passes out. Turning to see what's going on, Alias, Emoticon and Rerun see the folded comic and also pass out.

 

"Huh. Didn't take them for roundheels, but you can't always crab things by looks alone. C'mon, wake up, ya mugs."

 

The guys slowly regain consciousness, their eyes fastened on the Action #1.

 

"Where did you get that?" asks Alias.

 

"Newsie's got'em. Dropped a dime on it."

 

"When? When did you buy it?"

 

"This morning, why? What's the skinny?"

 

"To the newsstand!" shouts Mylite, already hopping his slab in that direction.

 

"I thought you guys were looking for a swirly thing!" shouts Dirk. "Some sort of portal? I think I--"

 

They're all gone.

 

"--found one. Huh. They must be hitting the nose candy." Shrugging, he folds the comic back into his pocket and heads off in the direction they were last seen.

 

To be continued...

 

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Issue 12, Part 2D: Prisoners of War!

 

Appearing in this issue:

 

The Hero Squadron:

 

Sgt. Rocky (Awe4one) Super strength

Damp Dude (Elvis) Aqua powers

Magic Tape (Scottish) stickiness

Go Go (Speedjunkies) Superspeed

Zilla (Zillatoy) Ninja dinosaur

Ape (CD4ever) Shape shifter

Chrome Dome (Chromium) power over metal

 

Sgt. Hoffman (leader of the German patrol) Alex H.

 

Issue 12, Part 2D: Prisoners of War!

 

 

Go Go, Magic Tape, and Ape are surrounded by a dozen German soldiers. Their job had been to tape the German uniforms to the trees, so that Sarge could shoot at something. It was Chrome's plan, and not a very good one. In fact, all three men are thinking that it was truly one of the suckiest plans ever.

 

"Say something in German," whispers Tape.

 

"Dahnk-ah-shane, darling dahnk-ah-shaaaane," sings Ape.

 

"Wayne Newton?" asks Tape. "That's the best you can do?"

 

"Yah-vole," says Ape, phonetically.

 

"Warum danken Sie uns?" asks a German soldier who learned to speak on babblefish.com because not everyone actually speaks German and therefore couldn't begin to write in it.

 

"What's he saying?" asks Go Go.

 

"He asks vhy you are thanking us," says the leader of the German patrol. "I personally vould ask why you are singing to us, but that is just me."

 

"You speak English?" asks Tape.

 

"No, it is pure coincidence zat you are understanding me. Of course I speak English, you dolt!"

 

"And very well, too," says Ape.

 

"Ja, vell, I vas a good student. I von a medal in ze 8th grade!"

 

"No kidding? I never won anything."

 

"It is your lucky day! You haff just von a free trip to stalag 19!"

 

The other Germans applaud. "Glückwünsche!"

 

"They are giving you their congratulations. You may now sing your response."

 

""Dahnk-ah-shane, darling dahnk-ah-shaaaane," sings Ape. "Distraaact them, I've got a plaaa-aaaan."

 

"Vas I not supposed to understand zat last part? Because I still speak English, you know. I did not suddenly forget it because you sang ze vords."

 

"Oops. "

 

"Ve vill now confer, my men und I. While you 3 are standing here alone, do not make any plans or try to escape. You vill die if you do."

 

The Germans go huddle, their weapons still pointed at the 3 members of the Hero Squadron.

 

"So what's your plan, Ape?" asks Go Go.

 

"Are you nuts? You heard him! He'll kill us if I tell you my plan!"

 

"How will he know if we're planning or just talking about strippers or something?"

 

The German looks over and frowns. "Are you discussing plans?"

 

"Strippers!" says Tape. "Talking about strippers."

 

"That is, of course, perfectly acceptable. In fact, we, too, are discussing strippers. Carry on."

 

"So what's the plan?" whispers Tape.

 

"One of you distract them. I'll morph into a German soldier and say that you're my prisoners. They'll release you to my custody and we'll get out of here."

 

"And you're going to convince them that you are a German soldier by speaking English?"

 

"With an accent! It can't fail."

 

Meanwhile...

 

Damp Dude continues to distract Sarge.

 

"You add the eggs before or after the flour?" asks Damp Dude.

 

"Before! You sift the flour over the batter with the eggs, then you stir it in."

 

"Gotcha. So why are they called Toll House instead of plain old chocolate chip cookies?"

 

"They just are, okay? I am never sharing recipes with you again. You ask too many questions."

 

"I'm just trying to learn."

 

Suddenly, several grenades explode nearby.

 

"Everybody down!" shouts Sarge. Damp Dude gets down. "Where the hell is everyone?"

 

"I've been shot!" screams Damp Dude.

 

"That was a grenade. No one is shooting."

 

"I've been grenaded!"

 

"Where are ya hurt, buddy?"

 

DD clutches his chest. "The pain! The pain!"

 

Sarge tries to loosen DD's hands, but DD holds on tight. "Let me see...!"

 

"You go on without me. No reason both of us should die."

 

"I'm not headed anywhere right now. Let me see."

 

"My life... flashing before my eyes..."

 

"I'm not seeing any blood. Where are you hit?"

 

"Momma...? Is that you...? Just ten more minutes... please, Momma..."

 

"There really should be some sign of blood by now. "

 

"...huu...lk... 1... 81..."

 

"Your face is still pink, your pulse is strong, your eyes are clear, there's no blood... "

 

"...oh, I have... wasted... my... life..."

 

"...you're able to quote the Simpsons, your blood pressure is normal, you're clutching a different place on your chest now... is it possible that you just thought you were grenaded?"

 

"Tell Momma I... loved her..." DD's head slumps to the side, his eyes staring into space.

 

"Why... WHY... WHY! Why did he have to die so young!" screams Sarge.

 

A short time ago...

 

"You'll use an accent?"

 

"The head German guy has an accent. He'll think I'm just a German guy like him, who talks in English but says 'v's instead of 'w's."

 

Suddenly, several grenades explode near the Amercian position.

 

"Erhalten Sie hinunter! Und, for ze Americans, get down!"

 

Everyone drops to the ground. Ape turns into a German Field Marshall. Go Go disappears.

 

"Where'd Go Go go?" asks Tape. He sees Ape. "Ahh!"

 

"Shh! It's me! Don't vorry!" whispers Ape in the worst German accent in recorded history.

 

"This plan just might work!" says Tape brightly. "You totally fooled me."

 

"See? Toldja so."

 

Tape glances over at the German solders. They're all unconscious. Go Go gathers their weapons.

 

"So, Tape, you want to stick them on the trees now? The grenades were Chrome's part of the plan. We still haven't done our part. By now, Damp Dude must be desperate -- probably trading recipes or something."

 

"Are they really out?" asks Ape, slowly rising. He suddenly falls unconscious.

 

"Sorry, didn't see that one," says Go Go.

 

"That was Ape!"

 

"Oh geez. Man, he totally fooled me!"

 

"He's very good."

 

"Let's just skip this plan. We'll stage a fake battle some other time."

 

"I'm with you, Go Go. We need to look for the portal."

 

The two men grab the unconscious Ape and carry him back to the Sarge's position. Neither man remembers to secure the German patrol.

 

To be continued...

 

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Issue 12, Part 2E - "The World's Greatest Western Gang!"

 

Appearing in this issue:

 

The Brick (Crisco) invulnerable

Flame War (Fantastic Four) Flame power

Where'd He Go (Clobberintime) invisibility

Kid Twister (Drummy)

 

Issue 12, Part 2E - "The World's Greatest Western Gang!"

 

Kid Twister, still staring at the 3 heroes, twitches his hand near his holstered gun.

 

"You boys have a problem with the Earps? Or Tombstone? Or the Clantons? Well, actually, it's fine if you have a problem with the Clantons. We all do. They're so whiny." He catches himself. "What I means is, you guys have a problem with the Earps or Tombstone?"

 

"No problem," says Flame War.

 

"Good. So how come you're all so... weird?"

 

"Weird?" asks Brick, attempting to cross his arms but his enormous brick-o-butter body doesn't allow it. "Whatever do you mean?"

 

"Well, you got one guy who keeps disappearing, and you're not even shaped like a person, and then there's the guy dressed in purple who looks like a flaming--"

 

"Okay, okay, we get it," says Flame War. "We're different. We're not like everyone else. The truth of the matter is... we're Superheroes!"

 

They strike a heroic pose.

 

Kid Twister just stares. "Uh-huh. What's that mean exactly?"

 

"Superheroes!" reiterates Flame War. "We have strange powers and use them to fight evil!"

 

"What kind of powers?"

 

Flame War blasts a tongue of fire at a tumbleweed, instantly engulfing it. "Like that."

 

Kid Twister doesn't seem phased. "Okay. So you shoot fire, the other guy goes invisible, what's with the yellow dude?"

 

"I'm invulnerable."

 

"And you guys think these things make you special?"

 

The three of them look at each, shrug, and WHG says, "Yes."

 

Kid Twister, still standing several yards away, stretches both of his arms across the distance and knocks Flame War's head into WHG's noggin. "Big deal. We all have our little tricks."

 

"You've got elastic powers!" shouts Brick.

 

"Keep your voice down," says Kid Twister. "I ain't advertising."

 

Flame War instantly sees the implications. "Oh, man! You have to join us! We need to form a gang!"

 

"Huh?" Twister stretches one finger and touches Flame's shirt. "You got something on your..." When Flame looks down, Twister lifts his finger and flicks his nose. "Made you look."

 

"For a scary western cowboy guy, you sure have an immature sense of humor," says WHG. From out of nowhere, a giant fist punches him in the gut. WHG falls down and turns invisible.

 

"Anyone else want to make fun of me?" asks Twister with a snear.

 

"Ooh! I will!" says Brick. "You can't hurt me! In fact, we could be at odds with each other all the time and fight and bicker and stuff!"

 

"No thanks. I have a girlfriend."

 

"Brick is on to something, Twister. If the four of us joined forces, we could be the world's greatest western gang! We need to think of a name, though."

 

"Lemme see," says Brick. "A guy who can flame on, someone who goes invisible, a big brick who's invulnerable, and a stretchy guy. Maybe we should call ourselves 'The Plagiarists!' 'The Copyright Infringers!' 'The Homagers!'"

 

"I got it!" says WHG, woozily standing up. "The Marvelous Four!"

 

"Works for me," says Flame War.

 

"Me, too," says Brick.

 

"I dunno," says Twister. "I'm originally from Washington -- DC, that is -- and this whole idea of a team of heroes sounds really derivative."

 

"Derivative? Aren't you the same guy who just said 'ain't' and played 'made you look' with Flame War? I think your suddenly expanding vocabulary is making this whole scene implausible." Brick hitched up his dark blue undies to emphasize the point.

 

"I gradee-ated from Cornel. I can say what I please." He reaches out and gives Brick a giant wedgie.

 

"Ow," squeaks Brick.

 

"You felt that?" asks Flame War.

 

"Uh-huh."

 

"That means you aren't invulnerable! You have an Achilles Heel! Only it's not your heel, it's your--"

 

"We all get it, okay?" says Brick, readjusting himself.

 

"I didn't even know he still had that equipment," says WHG.

 

"Of course I have it!" snarls Brick, wishing his hands would reach around his big, square body enough to shield the delicate area.

 

"All right, I'll join," says Kid Twister.

 

"Huh?"

 

"You heard me. I'll join your gang. First up, we help the Earps take out the Clantons. Then we go after Billy the Kid. Once we get Billy, we'll look for some cosmic villains. The Marvelous Four is in business, boys. And I'm gonna be the leader. Any questions?"

 

"Just one," says WHG. "No matter how much you insist, I am not going to marry you."

 

"You do realize that everything on me stretches really, really big?"

 

WHG considers it for a moment, then says, "Tempting, but no, I'm sticking to my guns."

 

Kid Twister draws his pistol and shoots Brick in the chest. "Just testing. Let's get'em, guys!"

 

To be continued...

 

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Issue 12, Part 2F: Hickory Dickory Doc

 

Appearing in this issue:

 

Lord Rawl (Lord Rahl)

The corpse of Dr. Gloom (Joe Collector)

A disembodied voice

A mysterious woman

Prof. Nefarious (Bronty)

Assoc. Prof. Heinous (AlexH)

 

 

Issue 12, Part 2F: Hickory Dickory Doc

 

Lord Rawl stares at the pool of blood seeping from under the door.

 

"Oh dear. That looks messy. I'm glad I don't have to clean it up." He returns to the front room where Heiny and Nefarious are having an argument.

 

"What do you mean, you can't hear it ticking?" asks Heiny.

 

"I am saying that the clock is obviously broken. It is not ticking," responds Nefarious.

 

"But that's absurd! It is, in fact, some of the loudest ticking I have ever heard. And I am a registered expert on ticking."

 

"Where are you registered?"

 

"The Royal Canadian Bureau of Ticking, Tocking, and Other Clock-Related Noises."

 

"You continue to surprise me, Old Chum. Though I half suspected you were referring to the RCBoTTaOCRN, I did not for a moment realize you were so influential."

 

"My father has friends in high places. He played hockey as a youth."

 

"I was less fortunate. My father was the announcer on 'Friendly Ghost'."

 

"Look up! Look waaaaayyy up!" said Heiny.

 

"Yes, yes, that was the catch phrase."

 

"No, I was referring to the ceiling. There appears to be blood dripping down the walls."

 

The men look at the ceiling. There are indeed streams of viscous crimson fluid oozing down the walls. Lord Rawl notes the similarity to the blood coming from under the door.

 

"There is a great similarity between that viscous crimson fluid and what I have discovered in the hallway. In my expert opinion, both fluids are bloodlike in their appearance," says Rawl.

 

"Your qualifications for making such a pronouncement, sir?" asks Nefarious.

 

"The 17th Dimensional Xathospheric Department of Oozing Liquids."

 

"Ah, but are all oozing liquids bloodlike? I think perhaps your pedigree is not as secure as you would make us believe," says Heiny.

 

"In the 17th Dimension, of which I am Lord and Master, all oozing liquids are either bloodlike, or have a bloodlike quality, i.e. a crimson hue, a metallic scent, or they contain platelets."

 

"In that case, please carry on."

 

"Then I repeat my hypothesis that the oozing liquid is bloodlike in quality."

 

The two professors applaud his expertise, looking duly impressed.

 

"Did you locate the charming mistress of this establishment?" asks Nefarious, licking his thin lips in anticipation.

 

"Or our overcoats?" asks Heiny.

 

"Er... no. Neither. But there were several doors and I opened none of them."

 

"Ah well, that might explain it."

 

From out of the kitchen walks the beautiful woman, carrying two drinks.

 

"Prof. Nefarious, I took you for a bourbon man. And Assoc. Prof. Heinous, here's a Shirley Temple."

 

"But... how did you... that is, I saw you go through that door," says Rawl, pointing to the door that led to the hallway.

 

"If you had taken the tour, you would have realized that the kitchen has an entrance in the hallway." The woman hands the drinks to the two professors, both of whom suddenly find themselves aroused by her beauty.

 

The woman appears not to notice. Instead she scowls at the bleeding walls. "Oh bother. Not again."

 

"What causes the, er, oozing fluidic problem?" asks Rawl, trying not to notice that the corpse in the corner was beginning to smell a tad ripe.

 

"It's an old house, with many unhealed wounds. I suspect it may have been bitten by a termite." She pauses, listening. "Do I hear ticking?"

 

"Aha!" says Heiny. "As I explained to my colleague, your grandfather clock is putting out quite a high volume of ticking."

 

"I said that first," says Rawl, fearing that he is losing the attention of the beautiful owner to the interlopers. "Remember? When I told you I heard ticking? Remember? It was me that said it, not him."

 

The beautiful owner laughs softly, a sound so musical and seductive all three men are struck dumb, the walls stop bleeding, and the ticking stops.

 

"Geez, even I was affected and I don't swing that way!" says the disembodied voice.

 

"Shall I show you gentlemen to your rooms?"

 

Because none of the men feel capable of ambulation they all quickly express an interest in remaining seated to finish their drinks.

 

"It's getting late," says the woman with a glance at the non-working clock. "Soon we can bury Dr. Gloom out back and then spend a few hours under the sheets. I only have one room, so I hope you don't mind if you all share my bed with me."

 

"Guh."

 

"Blrk."

 

"Glrg."

 

"I'll take those as yeses. Oh, and if it's not too inconvenient, I prefer sleeping in the nude."

 

"Flrg."

 

"Yrtz."

 

"Glarg."

 

"You speak Lithuanian? My uncle taught me a few phrases when I was young." She yawned, then poked Dr. Gloom's corpse with her stiletto heel. "I'd say in less than half an hour he'll be done. Meanwhile, I'll fix us a light snack." She arises and glides from the room.

 

The three men spend five minutes in silence, staring at the door to the kitchen.

 

"Well," finally says Nefarious.

 

"Quite," says Heiny.

 

"Indeed," says Rawl.

 

"Hello? Much more of this witty banter and we'll all be asleep!" says the disembodied voice. The clocked chimes 11:43.

 

Nefarious stands and begins slinking toward the kitchen. "I think I'll see if she needs any help. After all, I'm a member of the Royal Canadian Light Snack Advisory Committee."

 

Heiny and Rawl rush to beat him to the door. Just as all three arrive, the door opens, clonking them all on their heads. They fall down, out cold.

 

The beautiful owner laughs, the sound both exquisite and eerie. "Works every time," she says, withdrawing a large butcher knife from under a napkin on her snack tray.

 

To be continued...

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Issue 12, Part 2G: Not So Funny Now, Are Ya?

 

Appearing in this issue:

 

Negative Lad (Murpho) can affect self-esteem

Larry Von Dork (Werner Von Doom) evil scientist

Fission (Rob_React) Atomic powers

Pyro (Blazingbob) Pyro powers

Ki-Zar (Comicwiz/dadaist) Killer lizard

Origami (Kevthemev) power over paper

Runt (BigMan) Shrinking power

Squatter (Lantern) knee laser beams

 

 

Issue 12, Part 2G: Not So Funny Now, Are Ya?

 

 

The Bad Brigade is jailed in the land of Funny Animals. Their prison is a cheerful place, with gigantic strong bars, and tilted architecture. They all wear black and white striped jumpsuits and have large iron balls chained to their ankles.

 

Squatter carefully lines his sights on ten folded-paper bowling pins, courtesy of Origami. He aims, and rolls the ball. As soon as the chain plays out, he is violently pulled behind the ball. His body helps to make it a strike.

 

"Bowling. Too many lives are lost to this sport every year," says Runt, watching the action.

 

Squatter is still unconscious, having clonked himself on the head with his own ball and chain. Slowly, he comes to. "Did I get the strike?"

 

"Yeah," says Fission, writing down the score. "You're up, Ki-Zar."

 

Ki-Zar walks over to the paper pins, flicks out his lizard tongue and eats all the pins. "I win."

 

"No fair!" says Squatter, woozily sitting up.

 

"Check the rule book," Ki-Zar says with a belch.

 

"Zar is right. It's on page 32," says Fission, holding up the penciled rulebook that Ki-Zar had presented to them at the start of the game.

 

"I think I have a plan to break out of here!" says Larry Von Doom, studying the oversized bars.

 

"Break out? Duh!" says Negative Lad. "Let's see... Fission could blast us out, Pyro could burn us out, Ki-Zar could muscle us out, and Squatter could laser us out. Runt can just walk out cuz he fits through the bars. It's not about breaking out. Didn't you hear Pyro's plan?"

 

Larry shuffles his feet in embarrassment. "I was on the can."

 

"To summarize," says Pyro, joining the conversation. "We need to wait until another prisoner is incarcerated. At that time, we can cross over into his reality and begin to make our way back to superhero comics."

 

"What if no one else gets jailed?"

 

"Impossible. There's always someone causing trouble."

 

"What if he's not from a different continuity? What if it's that freaking monkey that has the hots for Origami?"

 

"You are so gonna get folded, spindled, and mutilated for that!" says Origami, tossing away the single, poop-covered rose he had received from the monkey.

 

"You and what army?"

 

"Hey youse! What's da racket in here?" says the cigar-chomping raccoon guarding their cell. The others join in the hub-bub until there's a deafening din.

 

The noise apparently alerts others and soon the bazooka-wielding teddy bear with the eye patch bursts into the room. "Quiet, freaks!" Everyone shushes. "Man, I hate dealing with fleshies," he mumbles to the raccoon.

 

"Nertz to dem all."

 

"All right," says the bear. "One more peep out of you and we start rigging anvils to fall on your heads. And if that doesn't work, we have a variety of bank safes, and large blocks with their weight written on the side. So I don't want any more fighting in here!"

 

"Excuse me, Mr. Bear, sir," says Larry. "We were wondering if anyone else was due to be incarcerated soon."

 

"Next Tuesday, we have an entire gang of western outlaws, some detectives, a pair of young lovers, and a bunch of superheroes due in town. I'm sure there'll be troublemakers in the bunch."

 

"Did you hear that?" says Larry, delighted. "We're saved!"

 

The teddy bear laughs. "Too bad your execution is scheduled for Monday." The teddy bear turns to leave, but changes his mind. "Oh, and if any of you try to use your powers -- like in an escape attempt or something -- I think you should be aware that the rules of physics do not apply in our land. I would think twice before you try anything. One never knows what consequences a wrong action could bring."

 

Angrily, Origami grabs a piece of paper to make a paper airplane, to throw at the bear. The moment he makes the first fold, a loud 'pop' is heard, there is a puff of smoke and where Origami stood is a pile of smoldering ash.

 

"See what I mean?" says the bear. He laughs and leaves the Bad Brigade staring at the remains of their friend.

 

"Nertz," whispers Runt, shaking in his tiny boots.

 

To be continued...

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Oops, forgot to post this last time. I just recovered all the chapters I lost, so now I can get writing.

 

Chapter 12, Part 2H: New Beginnings That Seem Like Old Beginnings!

 

Appearing in this issue:

 

Flying 'House (Flying 'House) Flight

Lighthouse (Lighthouse) eye beams

Spelling Bee (PovertyRow) flight, stinger

Raspberry Toaster Pastry (Darthdeisel) flight, goo

KostumeKween (MajorKhaos) Powers of Supergirl Week Guy (NewtSamson) Lord of Time Stream

Month Guy (Redhook) Lord of Time Stream

 

 

Chapter 12, Part 2H: New Beginnings That Seem Like Old Beginnings!

 

The JBH (Justa Buncha Heroes) and two of the time masters watch as a man leading a giant red blob, which is being chased by angry bikers, comes toward them.

 

"Newt, I don't like the looks of this," says Month Guy.

 

"Me neither, Red."

 

"Hang on a minute," says 'House. "Your name isn't Red. It's Jonny Double."

 

"No, it's not," says Red, his steely gaze unblinking.

 

Newt pulls 'House aside. "Just chill with the Jonny references. He ran into a little trouble."

 

"What kind of trouble?"

 

"Woman trouble."

 

"Is there any other kind?"

 

"Well, there's girl trouble, but we're going to keep this clean." Newt glances at the rest of the group, to make sure they're not listening. They aren't. Instead, they're all watching RTP squeeze her breasts in a demonstration of her powers. It's one of the JBH's new favorite things ever to watch.

 

'House, usually the one to ask RTP to demonstrate, reluctantly pulls his attention back to Newt. "What did Jonny do? I mean, we've been here together the whole time. I don't see how he could have done anything."

 

"I thought we already explained that in the beginning of time, things aren't always what they seem. The laws of physics and nature are more like suggestions."

 

"So an irresistible force meeting an immovable object..."

 

"Here we'd say a somewhat alluring force met a slightly stubborn object. Neither is really all that keen on staying still or moving."

 

"This is quite the fun place."

 

"Wonderful vacation spot. Next time you should bring the kids."

 

"So what did Jonny do?"

 

"He called a woman 'cunning'. That's a big insult around these parts."

 

"Cunning? Really? Cunning as in clever and artful?"

 

"Sshhh!" Newt looks around, hoping no one is listening. "For crying out loud, never use cunning, clever, and artful in the same sentence! In fact, don't use them in any sentences! You want to get us all killed? Geez, I'd better warn the rest of you guys."

 

"Don't tell KostumeKween. He'll take it as a challenge to use all three words as often as possible."

 

"Are you two picking out a china pattern or something?" shouts Donut. "I mean, we do have a blob and a bunch of bikers running at us."

 

"Funny how they made no progress since the last time we looked at them," says Bee. "In fact, they stopped all together when RTP was squeezing her breasts. I wonder why?"

 

"Just how old are you?" asks KostumeKween.

 

Newt says, "Red, explain about the suggestions of physics and nature, okay?"

 

"Will do." Red huddles with the rest of the group, while the blob and bikers run in place so that all the characters can get out their exposition.

 

Newt and 'House eye Kostumekween. "So you think he might be trouble?" asks Newt.

 

"Only with linguistics. With everything else, he'll be like the rest of us: totally useless."

 

"Gotcha. We'll just have to keep him away from wordplay. You wouldn't believe what some of the other bad words are."

 

"Like what?"

 

"I'm not tellin'! For crying out loud, my mom might read this!"

 

"Oh, c'mon, just tell me one more."

 

Newt whispers it in his ear.

 

"Cool? That's a bad word?"

 

"Shut up! It's the absolute worst. Carries the death penalty."

 

'House pales. "That's not good." He glances toward the group. RTP is bent over, searching the ground, her posterior high in the air.

 

"Funny, I don't even remember you wearing contact lenses, Kween," she says.

 

'House grunts in frustration. "If only there were some way to mask the words and therefore stay away from trouble."

 

"Hmm... there might just be a way." Newt leads 'House back to the group, rubbing his chin thoughtfully in a clichéd manner.

 

"And as that demonstration showed, it's not the law of gravity, it's the suggested method of staying glued to the earth. But then, half of you guys fly, so you should understand this stuff. At least here you'll only be breaking a suggestion, instead of a law." Red turns to see Newt and 'House arrive back at the group. "Ready?"

 

"Yes. I had to pee," says 'House, covering for why he left the group, his mind spinning with the possible dangers they might face in the beginning of time.

 

"And you needed Newt to hold it for you or something?" asks Kostumekween. "What a cunning way to avoid Red's boring lecture on the science of non-science, though you missed a clever demonstration of why contacts don't always fall to the ground."

 

Red, Newt and 'House gasp at KK's use of the words 'cunning' and 'clever' in the same sentence.

 

"You can't--" says Red.

 

Newt slaps a hand over his mouth. "Hang on, Red, there could be a problem." He looks at 'House, who has sidled next to KK.

 

"Shut up, KK. Just don't talk for awhile."

 

"Huh? What's wrong? Why shouldn't I talk? It isn't like that blob is going to get here before dinnertime, at the rate he's running."

 

"What's going on?" asks Donut. "Is this some artful way of trying to get us to do your evil bidding?"

 

Again, Newt, Red, and 'House cringe. "Just shut up! Everyone!" says 'House.

 

"Did Newt corrupt you?" asks Bee. "Are you the new villain in this scenario? Frankly, I thought it'd be the blob. Or maybe the bikers. But having 'House turn on his fellow JBHers would be a truly cunning plot twist."

 

"GAK!" shouts Red, sweating bullets.

 

"Are you guys incapable of shutting your mouths?" asks Newt.

 

'House throws up his hands in defeat. "I really thought it would be Kween who'd screw us. But apparently I don't know my teammates as well as I thought I did."

 

"It really is clever to use 'House against us," says RTP.

 

"Did you see how he told that artful lie about peeing?" says Bee.

 

"And his cunning use of dismissive hand gestures -- don't forget those," says Donut.

 

"Just shut up all of you... you... 'TARDS!" shouts 'House.

 

All of the color drains from the faces of Newt and Red.

 

"He did NOT just say that," says Red.

 

"I didn't think I had to mention that word. I mean, who in their right mind would ever call another human being a... a... I can't say it."

 

Just then sirens are heard.

 

"Oh, God, it's the ROBOT squad."

 

"Robots?" asks Bee, suddenly interested.

 

"RIGHTEOUS OFFICERS of the BEGINNING OF TIME," says Red.

 

"Cool!" says Kween.

 

"Holy cunning," whispers Newt. "We are dead men talking."

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Issue 12, Part 2.5: Parsley, Sage, Rosemary and Time

 

The Time Masters

 

Second Guy (Ares) Lord of Time Stream

Minute Guy (DiceX) Lord of Time Stream

Hour Guy (PedgreeMan) Lord of Time Stream

Day Guy (hobbes) Lord of Time Stream

Year Guy (justiceleaguefiend) Lord of Time Stream

Decade Guy (Chrisfuccione) Lord of Time Stream

Century Guy (sfilosa) Lord of Time Stream

Millennium Guy (blowout) Lord of Time Stream

 

Issue 12, Part 2.5: Parsley, Sage, Rosemary and Time

 

Millennium Guy strides into the room, his regal bearing and long, flowing white mane, long, flowing purple robe, and long, flowing back hair making him a force to reckoned with, though rarely dated.

 

"By the clocks of Ganthor, what is going on in here?"

 

"Nuffin," says Year Guy, shuffling the toe of one foot while whistling and looking guilty.

 

"He did it!" shouts Minute Guy, pointing to Century Guy. "He sent Week Guy and Month Guy into the time stream and all heck broke loose!"

 

"You mean 'Time of the Month' Guy," snickers Hour Guy.

 

Day Guy glares at Hour Guy, but Year Guy hides a small smile.

 

"Who in Ganthor's name are those... those... costumed cossacks?" asks Millenium Guy, pointing to the meeting of the Solar Powers with the Hostess Horde in the time of Neanderthals.

 

"Um... they're, uh, you see... um..."

 

Century Guy breaks off Year Guy's mumbling response. "They are superheroes, sir. Costumed do-gooders who managed to breech the time tunnel. We sent Week Guy and Month Guy in to contain the situation, but unfortunately, the various groups slipped through the fabric of time and landed somewhat willy-nilly throughout several eras."

 

"They're looking for time portals," says Minute Guy.

 

"Time portals? Time portals? Are they daft? Who in the name of Ganthor's left testicle told them that were such things as time portals?" Millennium Guy's back hair is standing on end, adding to the frightening majesty that is the Supreme Lord of Time.

 

"They read comic books, sir." Day Guy gives a shrug, then returns to monitoring the monitors, in a somewhat redundant fashion.

 

Off Millennium Guy's confusion, Hour Guy says, "Comic books are illustrated texts extolling the virtues of heroic individuals who wear primary colors."

 

"Hence, the fashion errors," added Minute Guy helpfully, pointing to a monitor showing the N'Superables.

 

"I see..." says Millennium Guy. "None of them have touched anything, though, right?"

 

The rest of the Lords look at each other sheepishly and hide their faces. "Unfortunately, they have, sir," says Century Guy. "They have had somewhat of a disruptive effect on their various eras. The Solar Powers have killed a T-Rex. One of the Hostess Horde appears to be moments away from impregnating a Neanderthal girl. The N'Superables have just realized that Action 1 – the most famous of their beloved comic books – is on the newsstand and will most likely disrupt comic values so severely that there will be a crash in 2004. The Hero Squadron has killed German soldiers in World War II. The Marvelous Four have picked up a new member native to the time period and are heading to the OK Coral. The villains have lost one member, and gained two more and there's no telling what havoc they'll wreak. The Bad Brigade is in jail in the land of funny animals, and the JBH has landed smack dab in the middle of the Beginning of Time, which was the destination of all these interferers in the first place. It seems they're all fighting the Archi-Moderator and think they're soooo important, gonna save the world, yadda yadda. It is... well, there's no other way to say it. It is as hairy as Ganthor's bal—"

 

"I get the picture," says Millennium Guy. "We need to take action. And not the comic book, I mean action like we have to do something. Something powerful and overwhelming with lots of special effects."

 

"Uh, sir, if I may?" cuts in Decade Guy.

 

"Proceed."

 

"I fear that a flashy display, though impressive, might aggravate the situation even further. Remember when that small kitten fell into the red sea and you parted the whole bloody thing so she could crawl out? They're still talking about that!"

 

"And I never get credit. Yes, perhaps you're on to something. Decade Guy, right?"

 

"Yes, sir."

 

"Do you have some sort of plan to get all these spandexed spankers out of the time stream?"

 

"I might. We need to create some sort of low budget time portal that a comic book fan would recognize, but no one else would notice or care about."

 

"Hmm... and what would this look like?"

 

"Swirly," says Minute Guy

 

"Whooshy," says Hour Guy

 

"Milky," says Day Guy

 

"Roundish," says Year Guy

 

"Fleshy!" says Minute Guy, swooping into the room with non-dairy creamer. They all look at him. "What, you're not describing breasts?"

 

"No," says Century Guy, "we're describing fake time portals. Next on the list was your dismissal. What took you so long?"

 

"The 7-11 was out. I had to go to the beginning of time to get some, and there's all sorts of stuff going on there, what with a big red blob, a bunch of bikers and some weirdos from the future. Saw Week Guy and Month Guy, though. Month Guy looks different."

 

Millennium Guy fills his cup with coffee and non-dairy creamer then sighs in relief. Seeing the lords just standing around, he gives them a lethal glare. "Enough talk! It's obvious that this group of would-be heroes is destroying the balance of time! Get to work on building those fake, swirly, whooshy, milky, roundish, fleshy time portals, or by Ganthor's mangled teat, I'll fire you all!" With that, Millennium Guy sweeps regally from the room, taking care not to shut the door on his back hair.

 

"You heard the man. Move!" shouts Century Guy. "And for the love of Ganthor's left something or other, don't blow this one. The fate of the universe and most of greater Akron depends on you!"

 

To be continued...

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Issue 12, Part 3A: When When the Mood Hits with Goo, Planets Come From the Blue: That's Amoré!

 

 

Starring

 

Twinkie (Hogations) goo

Snowball (The Beyonder) goo

Ding Dong (Aman) goo

Ho Ho (Ninanina) goo

Fruit Pie (JLA All the Way) goo

Cupcake (Doyle) goo

Susie Q (Andrew Knight) goo

Mercury (Dam60) flight, heat, speed

Venus (CosmicBob) flight, love

Earth (Ubiquiti) flight, power over dirt

Mars (Mushroom) flight, warrior skills

Uranus (Old Guy) flight, noxious scent

Saturn (Odin) flight, energy rings

Jupiter (BronzeBruce) flight, gas

Neptune (Zonker) flight, water

Pluto (hkp) flight, ice

Century Guy (sfilosa) Lord of Time Stream

 

And introducing...

 

Bono fantasyfootballbono super strength

 

 

 

Issue 12, Part 3A: When When the Mood Hits with Goo, Planets Come From the Blue: That's Amoré!

 

 

In the time of the Neanderthals, the members of the Hostess Horde, with the exception of the amorous Snowball, watch as the Solar Powers orbit into a soft landing a few yards away.

 

"Yo, Horde! How's it hanging?" asks Neptune.

 

"Big and hairy," answers Ding Dong.

 

"Nice," says Cupcake. "My mother reads this."

 

"No kidding?" asks Susie Q. "She still keep you in her basement?"

 

"Ha. Ha. Coinee humor, I get it. No, as a matter of fact, she reads it for the JBH. She loved them as a kid."

 

"Welcome to the land of the Neanderthals," says Twinkie.

 

"Neanderthals, huh?" says Jupiter, watching as the cave men cavort and frolic among the daisies and buttercups of their serene valley.

 

"So... any mammoth left?" asks Uranus.

 

Fruit Pie glances at the enormous carcass of a mammoth with only one small square cut from its side. "I dunno. There might be a scrap or two, if you're willing to dig for it. What do you think? They're bigger than freaking elephants!"

 

"Just asking," says Uranus grumpily. He lets off some noxious scent to nonverbally voice his disapproval of wise guy superheroes whose only power is making creamy filling.

 

"Oh, man!"

 

"Sheesh!"

 

"Give a guy some warning, Slick!"

 

"I gotta barf."

 

Down in the valley, several of the Neanderthals pass out.

 

"Nice one. You killed a bunch of cave men with your natural gas," says Saturn.

 

"That's a PR nightmare," says Pluto. "Quick, think of a way we can spin this to make us look better."

 

"Easy. They have weapons of mass destruction," says Mars.

 

"They have pointy sticks," says Earth.

 

"Same difference."

 

Jupiter pulls Twinkie aside. "So what's the score here. Any trouble from Gorilla Grodd and his friends?"

 

"Nah, they're a great bunch of guys. So how did you find us?"

 

"I have no idea. We fell through the time stream and landed right in the middle of the age of dinosaurs. We killed a T-Rex then orbited out of there. Next thing we know we see you guys."

 

"Hmm..." Twinkie paces a bit, frowning in concentration. "Dinosaurs and cave men never existed at the same time, yet somehow, in this mixed-up world, they do. Very curious."

 

"It's like the comics. People and dinos existed together there."

 

"Interesting theory. What do we do next?"

 

"We need to find a portal." Jupiter pauses dramatically. "A time portal."

 

"Yeah, we thought of that, too." Off Jupiter's disappointed look, Twinkie says, "But we never thought to pause so dramatically when saying it. So kudos to you."

 

Jupiter smiles. Suddenly, a human scream rings out. "What the blue blazes is that?"

 

Twinkie glances toward the cave. "Snowball. He's been screaming like that for fifteen minutes now. I have no idea why. Probably just letting off a little steam with that Neanderthal female who just achieved the age of mating."

 

"Ah, well, as long as nothing is wrong." Jupiter and Twinkie return to their tête-à-tête, doing their best to ignore the throat-ripping, lung-tearing screams.

 

Meanwhile...

 

"Grnnndt!" says Goo, beating her chest. Why does he run from me? Is my butt not hairy enough? My brow ridges too small? My build not stocky enough? What's wrong with me? The other girls were right – I'll never land a mate by age 10.

 

"GET AWAY FROM ME! GET AWAY FROM ME! GET AWAY FROM ME!" says Snowball. Get away from me! Get away from me! Get away from me!

 

"Glrnnndt?" Those sounds he's making; they're so passionate! He really does love me! I can't wait to tell daddy that I've found my soulmate! Finally, I can dump that loser I've been dating since age 7. I wuv my widdle Snowy-bowy, mwah, mwah, mwah!

 

"GET AWAY FROM ME! GET AWAY FROM ME! GET AWAY FROM ME!" says Snowball. Get away from me! Get away from me! Get away from me!

 

Using all the brainpower residing in her enormous cranium, Goo says, "Kuhm tooo Mah Mah!"

 

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

 

Meanwhile...

 

"So that's where it stands. Now, does anyone have any theories on what a time portal would look like? I'm assuming it would have to be close to what we've seen portrayed in the comics. Any theories?" Jupiter sees Earth with his hand up. "Earth?"

 

"I feel it would be swirly," says Earth.

 

"And perhaps whooshy," says Mercury

 

"It could be rather milky," says Venus

 

"Most likely roundish," says Saturn

 

"Fleshy globes, with big hard nipples that you use to dial the era you want to travel to," says Uranus. They all look at him. "You read the comics you like, and I'll read the comics I like."

 

"All right then, we look for something that might've been used in an X-rated episode of Star Trek, the original series."

 

Meanwhile...

 

Up in Time Central.

 

"Minute Guy, there's a design change. Add some big nipples that double as dials. Can't believe we never thought of that," says Century Guy.

 

Meanwhile...

 

Snowball, now smiling contentedly, smokes a cigarette. "You were wonderful, baby."

 

"Glllblllblllb," says Goo.

 

"Aw shucks, honey, you really think so? Well, I hate to brag, but I was voted sexiest member of the AV Club, my sophomore and junior year." Damn that Dexter Allen Minskowitz for transferring to our school senior year.

 

Goo smiles toothily at Snowball. So he sucks at honka-honka. He's still really cute, in a flat-faced, pointy-chinned way.

 

"Hey, you wanna come with us? We're on an adventure in time, on our way to saving the universe. We'll probably all die, but we could have some laughs on the way."

 

"Fllrt." Shyah, right.

 

"You're flirting with me! Great! C'mon, let's tell the others."

 

Snowball grabs Goo by the hand and runs for the entrance to the cave. When they emerge, it's a chaotic scene. A large, swirling, whooshing, milky, roundish breast is hovering near the cave. Ho Ho is playing with a giant nipple while the rest of the horde and the Solar Powers look on. Before Snowball can react, he is grabbed by the back of his uniform and hoisted off his feet.

 

"Grrrahhh!" roars his attacker.

 

"Help!"

 

The Neanderthals in the valley look up at the roar and begin running toward the scene, panic in their faces.

 

"Grrraahhh! Gorn da flllkkt rapchit klllrg!" says the Mighty cave man holding Snowball.

 

"Uh oh," says Goo.

 

"Who... what... whoa!" says Snowball as the cave man shakes him.

 

"Mah ecks-boyfrennn," says Goo. "Znobaww, Bono. Bono, Znobaww."

 

To be continued...

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Issue 12, Part 3B: Minty Fresh

 

Starring

 

Emoticon (BachelorOfComix) can be any emoticon

Rerun (Araich) TV in belly

Alias (Bonds) can split into 12

Mylite (greggy) slabbed, irresistible

Dirk Diamond (MinuteKev) Private Eye

 

And introducting

 

Shortie Spumoni (Puny Human) Gangster

 

Issue 12, Part 2c: Minty Fresh

 

Mylite thumps his way to the newsstand, his eyes glued to the fresh pile of Action 1s lying on the counter. He wets himself.

 

"Omigod, omigod, omigod." He ignores the stare of the proprietor as he gingerly picks up the first book. "9.0." He puts it aside and picks up another. "9.4." He continues to look through the pile. "8.5. 9.6. 9.4. 9.4. 9.8. 9.2. 9.4. 9.0..."

 

The others arrive, and watch in awe as Mylite handles the sweet, sweet National Periodicals.

 

"Wait, Mylite!" shouts Alias.

 

"Leave me alone. 9.0. 9.2. Don't these freaks know how to handle new books? Half of these are worthless 9.0-9.2-9.4s."

 

"No – your grading – it's all wrong!"

 

"Shut up! I know what I'm doing. 9.4."

 

"What I mean is, you aren't accounting for golden age bias!"

 

Mylite begins to shake. A 9.6 almost slips through his fingers, but Emoticon gently removes it from his hands.

 

"Golden age bias... do you know what this means?"

 

Alias looks at Mylite, then at the others, then back to Mylite. "Sell it through Heritage and these are all freaking 11's?"

 

"I'll call it the Mylite Pedigree. It fits the parameters. Bought off the newsstand, every major issue, single owner—"

 

"Hold on, Buckaroo," says Rerun. "Every single issue? Since when? You've got one issue."

 

"Do you have any more comics?" asks Mylite to the owner of the newsstand.

 

He stares at the slabbed man. His eyes dart toward a pile of Detective Comics.

 

"Sweeeeet!" says Alias. "9.4. 9.0. 9.6."

 

Soon all of the N'Superables are carefully grading the cream of 1938's comic crop. "Ian would wet his pants," mumbles Emoticon.

 

"You mean like Mylite did?" asks Alias.

 

"You try living in a slab!"

 

"No thanks." Alias splits into 12 people, causing the newsstand owner to faint. "I'm going to go look for some more newsstands. We are gonna be rich!" He sends his aliases in every direction.

 

"We can't let anyone know. If anyone knew we had these, they'd lose their value. We have to make a plan," says Rerun.

 

"A plan," says Mylite, "that includes traveling through time in every era, buying comics. Next stop, the Silver Age!"

 

At that moment, Dirk Diamond catches up to the N'Superables.

 

"You boys sure like to read."

 

"No one is going to be reading anything!" snaps Mylite, his hands shaking at the thought of an inadvertently cracked spine.

 

"So anyways, as I was saying back there, I think I found your swirly portal thing. It's weird, too, cuz when I first saw it, it looked more like a warped pane of glass. I was gonna chisel you guys out of a sawbuck for finding it. Thought it would be fun to see you trying to get through solid glass. But as I was chasing you mugs over here, I saw what you were describing. A swirly portal thing. You didn't tell me it looks just like a giant breast. I would've thought you'd remember that detail."

 

Emoticon whips around. "A breast, you say? Where? Where?"

 

"Finally, one of you ginks cares about the portal."

 

"You mentioned a breast. Where is the breast? Can I see it? Can I touch it? Can I photograph it and call it my girlfriend?"

 

"10!!" shouts Mylite. The others crowd around, Emoticon torn between seeing a perfect 10 copy of Action 1, and finding out about the breast.

 

"It's beautiful..." says Alias.

 

"Look at the colors..." says Rerun.

 

"Just think if it were a Hulk 181?" says Emoticon, his mind not quite on the find as solidly as it should be.

 

"Up wich yer hands, ya droppers!" says a strange voice. As one, the N'Superables turn to see a very short man with a gun. "Ya cants fool me! Yer part of Newsie Balboa's gang, aincha? Well, I'm gonna fog ya. Whacha think a that?"

 

They all shrug. "Fog?"

 

"He's gonna fill you with lead, you saps!" says Dirk. "He's one of Tony 'Big Balls' Provolone's gang."

 

"Ya ain't gotta prayer! I never miss!"

 

"He never misses," says Dirk.

 

With Rerun unable to tune in, Emoticon unable to switch, and with all of Alias's aliases out searching for comics, Mylite knows it is up to him to save his team. But in his hand is a gem mint 10.0 copy of Action 1. Even the slightest move could 9.x it. A trickle of sweat forms on his temple as he weighs his next move.

 

"Do something," whispers Alias as the small man raises his gun.

 

"So, what's your name, good-looking?" says Mylite, turning on all of his charm while standing perfectly still. Usually he uses his super-powered body language to help boost his charm levels, but he dares not twitch even a single muscle.

 

The small man hesitates. "Who, me?"

 

"Of course you, handsome."

 

"Oh... I, uh, I's Shortie Spumoni. I's a button man for Big Balls."

 

"A button man, how fascinating."

 

"It means he's a professional killer," says Dirk helpfully.

 

Mylite swallows. The tiny drop of sweat, now fully formed, begins its slow journey down his face.

 

First Emoticon, then Rerun, then Alias see the drop of sweat, and notice that it is directly above the Gem Mint 10.0 Action Comics 1. If it drops, the book is trashed. Seconds tick sluggish and hollow as they stare mesmerized at the inexorable pull of gravity. The drop travels down his cheek, inching ever closer to his jaw.

 

"...of course, I've never actually met a button man before, but my admiration is genuine," says Mylite, unaware of the drama unfolding on the side of his face. "Love the pinstripes."

 

"Yeah? Sears junior dept. I could show ya the shelf, if youse was innerested or sompin."

 

"I'd love that." Without thinking, Mylite nods his approval.

 

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

 

To be continued...

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Issue 12, Part 3D: Earp. Excuse Me.

 

The Brick (Crisco) invulnerable

Flame War (Fantastic Four) Flame power

Where'd He Go (Clobberintime) invisibility

Kid Twister (Drummy) Stretching Power

 

Issue 12, Part 3D: Earp. Excuse Me.

 

The Marvelous Four, under the guidance of their newest member, Kid Twister, set out to find the Earps. They want to fight the Clantons at the OK Coral, and to do so, they need to locate Wyatt and his brothers. They check the saloon and find Doc Holliday. He's sitting alone, drinking whiskey.

 

"Hey, Doc," says Twister. "You busy?"

 

"Yes."

 

"Busy how?" asks Brick.

 

Doc looks up, sees the strange newcomers and downs the rest of his whiskey. "I'm not nearly drunk enough to be seeing what I'm seeing. Let me catch up. Barkeep, another shot. And leave the bottle."

 

"We're not an alcohol-induced hallucination," says Flame War. "We're a team of superheroes, and we're here to help you and the Earps clean up Tombstone."

 

"When did it get dirty?"

 

"He's talking about the Clantons," says Brick.

 

"I hate the Clantons. They're so damn whiney." Doc throws back another shot and refills his glass.

 

"So, how do we get deputized?" asks Twister.

 

"Damn it, Kid, I'm a doctor, not a lawman. How the heck should I know?" He downs another shot.

 

"As a doctor you should be aware of the evils of alcohol poisoning," says WHG.

 

"I'm an 19th century doctor. We don't know squat."

 

"This isn't getting us anywhere. Let's keep looking for Wyatt Earp," says Flame War.

 

"You're leaving? But I've almost drunk enough for that square yellow guy to make sense."

 

"Powerful whiskey," mutters Brick.

 

"Want some?"

 

Not ones to turn down a perfectly good chance to drink with Doc Holliday, the Marvelous Four belly up to the bar and start slugging shots. Unaccustomed to the high alcohol content of 19th century rotgut whiskey, the three future travelers are soon rip-roaring drunk. Kid Twister isn't feeling much pain, either.

 

"Yer my bestest, bestest, beshish, beeshash, beesh, beesh, beesh friend," says WHG to Brick. "I mean that. My beesh, beesh, bssshhhhhhh!"

 

"Are we in a library?" asks Brick, looking around.

 

"A bar. I think," says Flame War, downing another shot.

 

"Your buddies are almost more annoying than those whiny Clantons," says Doc Holliday to Kid Twister.

 

"Yeah. But they can do weird things. That makes them innneresting."

 

"What weird things?"

 

"The big yellow guy is invel... unvul... emvil... um... Shoot 'im and find out."

 

Doc Holliday draws his gun and shoots Brick. The bullet bounces off Brick, ricochets off a metal frying pan and kills the piano player.

 

"Cut it out, I'm readin' here. Librarian! Another shot!" says Brick. "Oh wait. That was a shot. Heh. My mishtake."

 

"It didn't even make a mark," says Doc. He sees the dead piano player. "Except on him. Definitely left a mark on him."

 

"You gonna save him, Doc?"

 

Doc looks at the dead piano player then back at Kid Twister. "Nah. He was a lousy piano player."

 

"Damn lousy piano players. I hate them so much."

 

"Barkeep! Another bottle f'my friends." Doc picks up the now empty whiskey bottle and breaks it over Brick's head.

 

Brick flicks away a glass shard like it was a mosquito. "I don't need glasses. Ha! Did you get my joke? Did you get it?"

 

WHG is slumped on the bar, snoring. Flame War is looking uncomfortable. "I gotta whiz. Whereza barfroom?"

 

"You gotta whiz or you gotta barf? There's a difference," says Brick.

 

Flame War looks confused. "I dunno. Can I decide later?"

 

"Only if you bring that librarian. I'm in the mood for some Chaucer!"

 

Suddenly, Wyatt Earp and his brothers walk in. They look around until they spot Doc Holliday.

 

"C'mon, Doc. It's time."

 

"Righteo." Doc stands unsteadily, swaying as he waits for the room to stop spinning.

 

"You drunk, Doc?" asks Wyatt.

 

"Lil bit."

 

The Earps shrug. "S'okay. We can still use you."

 

"Should I bring my new friends?"

 

The Earps look over the Marvelous Four. WHG is snoring and drooling on the bar. Flame War is peeing on his barstool. Brick is smashing bottles and glasses on his head, trying to get someone to laugh at his glasses joke. Kid Twister is smiling sardonically.

 

"We'll take Kid Twister. The rest of them don't look so good."

 

"You take me, you take my friends," says Twister, standing. He's also none too steady. "They're freaks. The kind of freaks you want on your side. C'mon, boys. Let's kill some whiney Clanton butt!"

 

"Boo yah!" shouts Flame War, trying to figure out if zippers had been invented yet.

 

"To finity and beyonder!" says Brick, downing a final shot, then breaking the glass on his head. "I don't need... Forget it." He falls in behind Flame War and Kid Twister.

 

Flame War grabs WHG, slapping him awake. "C'mon. Gonna shoot people."

 

"'Kay," says WHG, who turns invisible.

 

"Where'd he go?" asks Wyatt.

 

"Present!" says the spot where WHG just was.

 

"Roll call? Here!" says Brick.

 

"Up, up, and away!" says Flame War.

 

Kid Twister whispers to Doc, "I don't really know half of what they say, but they told me if I joined their group, I'd get to wear spandex."

 

"What's spandex?"

 

"Not sure. But they said it shows off the unit, and with my stretching powers, I'll have every marm in the county after me."

 

"God, I love marms."

 

With that, the newly formed, drunk out of their gourds super group, the Marvelous Four, joins Doc Holliday and Wyatt to confront the Clantons at the OK Coral. None of the soused superheroes notice the giant, swirly, whooshy, breast-like portal that opens in the back of the saloon.

 

To be continued...

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Issue 12, Part 3E: Death and Taxis

 

Appearing in this issue:

 

Lord Rawl (Lord Rahl)

The corpse of Dr. Gloom (Joe Collector)

A disembodied voice

A mysterious woman named Madeleine

Prof. Nefarious (Bronty)

Assoc. Prof. Heinous (AlexH)

Morty, the robed figure (Deathlok)

 

 

Issue 12, Part 3E: Death and Taxis

 

The beautiful owner of the mysterious inn stands over the unconscious bodies of Lord Rawl, Prof. Nefarious, and Assoc. Prof. Heinous. In her hand is a blood-stained knife. On the sofa is a mysterious robed individual with skeletal hands.

 

"Now that I've finished cleaning up the blood in the hallway, shall I wake them?" asks the woman.

 

"Suit yourself," says the robed figure.

 

She disappears into the kitchen and returns with a plant spritzer. She mists Lord Rawl back into consciousness.

 

"Wha...? Who...?" sputters Lord Rawl, wiping the dampness from his face. "I say, did you just spritz me?"

 

"You were unconscious. What kind of hostess would I be if I allowed you to remain comatose when I own a perfectly good spritzer?"

 

"Point well taken."

 

She turns to Assoc. Prof. Heinous, or Heiny, as he is known by his friends, and begins to spray.

 

He slowly awakens. "Is it hot in here? I appear to be perspiring."

 

"You've been misted," says Rawl.

 

"I misted you, too. Where have we been?"

 

"We were all unconscious and our kind hostess has spritzed us back to the land of the living."

 

"For the nonce," says the robed figure.

 

"Excuse me?" Lord Rawl hadn't noticed the robed figure earlier and now wonders where he came from and why the questionable wardrobe choice.

 

"Nothing, nothing. Just pretend I'm not here. Everyone does."

 

"It's difficult to pretend you are not here, sir," says Heiny, getting to his feet. "Your presence fills this room."

 

"You don't say?" asks the figure, now suddenly interested.

 

"Indeed. In fact, I would go so far as to say you have a looming quality."

 

"Looming? You flatter me, sir."

 

"No, I quite agree," says Lord Rawl. "Perhaps it is a combination of your personal charisma and your somewhat sepulchral voice."

 

The figure covers the opening to the hood with his bony hand and giggles. "Your guests are too kind, Madeleine."

 

The beautiful innkeeper now found to be named Madeleine, smiles at her robed guest. "I've always said you shrink a room when you enter it, Morty."

 

Morty puts down his paper, no longer appearing distracted and bored. "What of that third fellow. Are you going to spritz him, as well? Or should we leave him be?"

 

"Oh, let's leave him," says Heiny, quickly. Realizing that he had sounded a tad too enthusiastic, he adds, "It's just that he has been plagued by insomnia. This is probably the first true rest he's had in days."

 

"Do I sense a spark of jealousy?" asks Lord Rawl.

 

"Whatever do you mean?"

 

"I mean that your boon companion tends to dominate you. There is a freeness to your tone now that was missing whilst he was conscious."

 

"Is it so obvious?"

 

"I'm afraid it is."

 

"I agree," says Madeleine.

 

"As do I," says Morty. "And that's without technically having been here while he was awake."

 

"Hadn't you be getting to your business?" asks Madeleine, looking pointedly at the corpse of Dr. Gloom.

 

"But I was enjoying myself," says Morty. When he sees her cross her arms and frown, he says, "Oh, all right. You can be so severe." Morty picks up the corpse of Dr. Gloom and glides from the room.

 

"Did you see that? Not only does he loom, he apparently glides, as well," says Heiny.

 

"A most peculiar man. He could use a meal, that's for certain. He was skin and bones. Well, mostly bones. As a matter of fact, I don't recall seeing any skin at all."

 

Heiny is looking at Prof. Nefarious, feeling guilty. "I suppose we should wake him. I feel badly that he missed Morty."

 

"Oh, don't worry about that. Morty will be back soon," says Madeleine.

 

"Do tell?"

 

"I invited him here for all of you to enjoy. He is quite an accomplished saxophonist. And his origami is to die for."

 

"I adore origami to the strains of a sax!" says Heiny.

 

"I do as well!" says Prof. Nefarious, waking up after a solid misting. "Have you any paper?"

 

"Perhaps tomorrow. Right now, we should probably retire."

 

"But I just woke up," says Nefarious.

 

"Professor, " whispers Heiny, "please recall that she has but one bed and we all must share it."

 

"And that she sleeps in the nude," adds Rawl.

 

Nefarious yawns loudly. "Gosh, I'm exhausted. Let's retire, shall we?"

 

Just then, a large, swirling, whooshing, breast-like portal opens up in the room.

 

"Ooh! That tickles!" laughs the disembodied voice.

 

Morty rushes in, and stops cold. "That is not supposed to be there."

 

Madeleine looks at her guests, at the portal, then back at her guests. Everyone is staring at the portal. Quickly, she removes her blouse, and stands in front of it, her magnificent breasts thrust forward. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you gentlemen to choose. You can stare at that ridiculous swirling thing, or you may fondle these. Keep in mind that I have two to its one. Now which will it be?"

 

To be continued...

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511549-GoGo.jpg

 

Issue 12, Part 3F: Crossing Over

 

Appearing in this issue:

 

Negative Lad (Murpho) can affect self-esteem

Larry Von Dork (Werner Von Doom) evil scientist

Fission (Rob_React) Atomic powers

Pyro (Blazingbob) Pyro powers

Ki-Zar (Comicwiz/dadaist) Killer lizard

Runt (BigMan) Shrinking power

Squatter (Lantern) knee laser beams

 

 

Issue 12, Part 3F: Crossing Over

 

"I miss Origami," says Runt.

 

"He folded a mean bowling pin," says Ki-Zar.

 

"All right, enough – all of you!" says Squatter. "We have to learn from the lesson of our late compatriot. Origami used his power to fold paper, and was vaporized. From now, no one can use their powers. Got it?"

 

"My power is being small. How do I not use that?" asks Runt.

 

"And mine is being an evil scientist. That's a very loose definition," says Larry Von Dork.

 

"Runt, just make sure you don't shrink any smaller, or do things only small people can do," says Negative Lad. "And Larry, turn over a new leaf. Be a benevolent artist or something. Whatever is opposite of an evil scientist."

 

"I could be a waiter. I did that in college," says Larry.

 

"Fine, be a waiter."

 

"May I take your order? We have a lovely salmon mouse tonight."

 

"Stop talking about me!" shouts a pale orange-pink moose standing just outside their cell.

 

The teddy bear with the bazooka and the eye patch walks in leading a broken-down nag, wearing a straw hat. "In ya go, Haytruck."

 

"I'm CGC-ready!" the horse says.

 

"Great, a spammer. Just what we needed," grumbles Squatter.

 

"CGC-it!" says Haytruck.

 

"Hang on, this gives me an idea," says Fission.

 

"Probably a lousy idea," says Negative Lad.

 

"Cool it, NL. Upbeat thoughts, remember? You are Mr. Positive now!"

 

"Geez, you're right. Gosh, Fission, please tell us your idea. I'll bet it's ever so dreamy."

 

"It's CGC worthy!" says haytruck.

 

"Someone shut him up before I make him my lunch," says Ki-Zar.

 

"Would you like fries with that?" asks Larry.

 

"Ki-Zar – remember, no powers," says Runt.

 

"Since when is eating a power?"

 

"Since Matter-Eater Lad."

 

"D'oh!" Ki-Zar slinks to the corner and tries to tune out everything Haytruck says.

 

Fission gathers his friends around him, trying not to let Haytruck hear. "We need a crossover, right? Well, Spammer here is a horse. Horses are in western comics. All we need to do is cross over into his reality, just like Pyro said."

 

"Thank you for remembering whose brilliance thought up this plan."

 

"That plan is CGC quality!" says Haytruck.

 

"You heard?"

 

"It was CGG not CGC."

 

"I think that means yes," says Runt. "Or no. One of the two."

 

"Thank you, Runt. Remind me to fry you to a crisp when this is over," says Pyro.

 

"Tonight we're serving blackened Runt with a gorgeous cajon sauce," says Larry.

 

"CGC that hot, hot Runt!"

 

"So how do we cross over?" asks Squatter.

 

"Pyro?" says Fission.

 

"Sure, now you turn to me. Let's all jump on the nag."

 

They turn to look at the small, bony horse. His outsized, bulbous eyes are crossed, his ribs showing through on his terribly swayed back, and his mane pokes out of the brim of his straw hat.

 

"Scratch that. Let's put Runt on him," says Pyro.

 

"Wait, isn't that a small thing?" asks Runt.

 

"We're willing to take the risk." Ki-Zar, anxious to torture Haytruck in any way, grabs Runt and sticks him on the horse.

 

"Oooh, investment grade and CGC ready!"

 

"Um... giddyap?" says Runt, puffing out his chest and sitting tall in the non-saddle.

 

"No, no, say something western," says Negative Lad.

 

"Howdy partner. This here jail cell ain't big enough for the..." He counts the people in the cell. "...Seven of us."

 

"Eight, counting you," says Ki-Zar.

 

"Them's fightin' words, varmint."

 

"Don't you call me a varmint, you lilly-livered Lilliputian!"

 

"I don't think this is working," says Squatter.

 

"CGC candidate!" shouts a frightened Haytruck.

 

Runt holds his hands out from his sides, hovering over imaginary holsters. Ki-Zar does the same. A tumbleweed blows across the cell as Squatter plays the harmonica.

 

"It's working!" whispers Fission.

 

"Did you doubt me?" says Pyro.

 

"Of course."

 

"Me, too," Pyro admits.

 

"Anyone for some Redeye or Sasparilla?" asks Larry nervously.

 

Ki-Zar twitches and Runt draws, making guns out of his fingers. Ki-Zar has no fingers. Runt says, "Bang!" and Ki-Zar falls, fatally wounded.

 

"Perhaps it's working a tad too well," says Squatter.

 

"Doesn't you mugs unnerstan?" says the Teddy Bear, entering the jail and sizing it up in a glance. "In Funny Animal land, this is normal, everyday stuff. We don't need no stinkin' crossovers."

 

Larry runs to Ki-Zar's side, offers him an hors d'oeuvres, gets turned down, then administers CPR. He stops short at the breath of life, however.

 

Suddenly, a large mammoric portal opens in the cell.

 

"That ain't normal," says the Teddy Bear.

 

"CGC it!"

 

To be continued...

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