“But—”
“
And
Disrupting the Peace!” RIP.
“But—”
“
Two
counts of Disrupting the Peace!” RIP, RIP.
“B—” He clasped his hands over his mouth.
“
Three
—Ah, wised up eh?”
“I didn't know the police were cracking down so hard. When'd they start this ‘Civil Defender’ program? Or get the funding for that fancy equipment?”
“Uh...” The Civil Defender seemed to lose three shades of confidence. “Well, you see. It all started ten years ago. On a most fateful day...”
“Do tell.”
“I am! Ahem. I was a beat cop back in those days. Fred Sentinel, that was the name. I haven’t been called that in so many years…” his voice trailed off as his gaze wandered to the clouds above.
“Come back to us, Cap’n Shiny.”
“Er, right. I’d just sat down outside my favorite sandwich shop, The Metro. It had been a long morning. It was the day of Dragon's Strike, so we were all pretty strung out by lunchtime. The unusually high humidity only added to my hunger: a hunger about to be quenched by the succulent turkey sub before me. I held it admiringly. Oh, the crisp lettuce. The fresh cut turkey, so thin and folded just right. The spicy mustard, onions, peppers, tomato, it was a beautiful monument to sandwiches, I tell ya. But, as custom demanded, I flipped through the headlines of The Metroville Sun before partaking of my lunch.
“‘City Held in Grip of Fear’ the headline announced. The front page featured a rather lengthy article about the world's most infamous and feared crime boss known only as…The Dragon. Between his stupendous black market wealth and the team of powerful overvillains at his command, he knew no rival. And that morning, that fateful morning, was to be his crowning achievement as a worldwide Archfiend. At sunrise, he had demanded three billion dollars within the next 24 hours, or he would cause the new Metroville Nuclear Power Plant to meltdown, thereby leveling half of Metroville in seconds while simultaneously rendering the other half uninhabitable for centuries. ‘Three billion, a small price to pay,’ according to the paper’s article.
“Us local police had been handling the situation all morning until the National Guard and other feds took over and brought the Squad of Diplomatic Immunity with them.” The Civil Defender seemed to wipe at the corner of his eye with an armored finger. “It was quite a moment, let me tell you. The Dragon’s plan for world conquest would take a giant leap forward after this event. After all, if one man can destroy a city described as the pinnacle of all civilization, what could stop him from destroying any city, or for that matter, a nation?
“It seemed that The Dragon would make history even if he didn't throw the proverbial switch. The Squad of Diplomatic Immunity had been called in to investigate the power plant, but even after hours of searching they hadn't found a single trace of the explosives. But The Dragon wasn’t one for bluffing. We learned that with those artificially activated volcanoes of his years back. Anyway, since the risk of a nuclear meltdown was so great, all signs pointed to the U.S. caving in to terrorist action. I remember in the paper there was a picture of the Squad: Captain Liberty, the seasoned superhero who had led the team for decades; Old Glorya, an elderly woman cybernetically melded to her Assault Wheel Chair of Justice; The Bold Eagle, an eagle-man genetic experiment meant to build the ultimate soldier; Dim-Mak-Racy, a patriotic ninja master of the clandestine arts; and finally, The Constitutional Kid, Captain Liberty's faithful sidekick.”
“I know all about the Squad of Diplomatic Immunity. I’ve got all the comic books at home. How else do you think I learned to be a Hero? Sheesh.”
“And then it happened.” Civil Defender’s exposition took on a sinister tone. “From around the corner, a brash youth ran like lightning on wheels. He took one look at my uniform as I perused the newspaper and he charged on. He reached into his tattered leather jacket. It was black. Yeah, street gang motorcycle punk kid black. He passed me, the world seemed to slow to a crawl. He took his hand from his jacket. He was practically on top of me before it happened.”
“He shot you?!”
“No,” Civil Defender’s eyes clamped shut. “Though not a day goes by I wish he had. It was much worse. Much worse.”
“What? What!”
“In a flash…the sandwich was gone.”
Nuklear Man stood there. He could not emote. He was not equipped to respond to what his senses were telling him.
“I’ll never forget what he said as he disappeared behind another corner. It’s haunted me every night of my life since. Just one word. ‘Yoink!’ My life, my dreams, hopes, my whole world was destroyed then. I howled into the rotting void of my soul. That day I vowed that as long as I lived, such a violation of humanity would never occur again. I would spend my life fighting crime, deviancy, and corruption everywhere, no matter how petty and meaningless it was. That single event of betrayal gave birth to The Civil Defender.”
“I see,” Nuklear Man said. “And this puts you
where
on the totem pole of police power?”
“Well I um...I'm not exactly a uh, a police officer as such...”
“Then what are you?”
“A crazed vigilante bent on the eradication of small claims crime.” He thought over his response. “Oh wait, replace 'crazed vigilante' with 'concerned citizen.' Dang, I always mess that part up.”
“I see...” Nuklear Man's eyes became shifty, beady little windows to the soul. He pointed behind the Armored Officer with a look of mock horror. “A jay walker!”
The Civil Defender spun around and let loose with a volley of Infantry-Stopper rounds.
Nuklear Man shot into the air. The traffic tickets written on ordinary pieces of notebook paper swirled from the Hero's back draft as he soared through the skies giggling like a schoolgirl. The taunt “Sucker!” echoed back at Civil Defender.
“Aw nuts!”
__________
Atomik Lad touched down in front of the main entrance to the abandoned Polluto Chemical Factory just outside of town, “HA! I knew I'd beat 'im. Big dope couldn't read Seuss, much less a map.” It was at this point he realized that he was completely alone in front of the lair of their most cunning and vile villain ever. “But he better get here soon... Er, I'd hate to have to blast Menace back to the Stone Age all by myself,” he quickly added to try to make the Mothra-sized butterflies leave his stomach... Failure.
Within the dark innards of the Factory, a sleek figure of deadly beauty observed the sidekick on her giant Evil: Monitor which displayed the view from one of her various Evil: Surveillance Cameras that surrounded the grounds of her Evil: Hideout. She pushed a single unmarked button upon her computer console.
__________
Issue 3 – Dr. Menace Strikes Back. For the First Time. Again!
Atomik Lad, as he often did when alone, thought back to that day. About that first crimson flash. He thought of it now in no different terms than he had before.
A lot of things can happen in the blink of an eye
, he mused as he looked down at his form fitting spandex.
Underneath him, a trap sprung and encased Atomik Lad inside a huge titanium Venus Fly Trap. His head buzzed from the metallic dissonance of reverberation that pounded against him. The orb slowly sunk into the ground with its Atomik prize...
__________
Blazing across the sky, Nuklear Man examined the almost medieval Polluto Chemical Factory as it loomed before him. It was a massive black blight of architecture, all smoke stacks and interwoven pipes. Even with his Nuklear Sight, he could find no sign of Atomik Lad, “Ah ha! I knew it
was
a right on Victory Street!”
Of course he already forgot that it was a left and it was supposed to be Victory Lane. Never mind the fact that the actual street name was in fact Rand Road and that he was just plain wrong about the whole situation altogether. The important thing is that he felt he'd done something somewhat resembling a successful train of logic and that was enough for him.
__________
Atomik Lad awoke with a start. He jerked into consciousness against unseen bonds. He had the feeling that he was suspended by some all-encompassing force, like he was a metal ball caught hovering in a magnetic field. He grit his teeth and struggled against his restraints, grunting in failure.
“Good morning,” the thick Transylvanian accent rolled into his ears from behind him. Craning his neck around to see below and behind, he could just make out what must have been the owner of the voice walking into a less chiropracticly profitable position in the room, “Did you have a nice nap?”
“Until I woke up to
you
,” Atomik Lad spat.
“Oh, don’t be zo rude. With your help, I will catch my ultimate prize, and become the world’s most powerful villain.” She had to quell a maniacal laugh before it broke the surface.He struggled in vain again.
“Tzk, tzk. That will do you no good. I have you suspended in a Negaflux Containment Field.” She turned to a large central computer and punched away at the keys. “I shall spare you the detailz of my ingenious creation, suffice it to say that every zingle ounce of energy or force exerted on the field will be
completely
counteracted.” She smiled proudly to her mirror image in the computer display.
“I'll show you an ounce of force,” he muttered between clenched teeth. His eyes shone with a brilliant vermilion light and red sparkles of energy sputtered around him feebly before being extinguished. “Er...there should be more.”
“You see? Even your famed ‘Atomik Field’ iz powerless against my Negaflux Containment Field! Another interesting feature iz that I can change the ratio from 1:1, such as it iz now, to something more along the lines of, oh say 2,000:1 so that gravity itself, rather than harmlessly suspending you, would crush you like some colorful American metaphor involving ripe fruit.” she laughed madly.
Atomik Lad scowled.
“And once Nuklear Man iz here, he shall have to deal with me on my termz, or else I shall destroy you.”
“So what are your terms?”
She spun to face her captive, leaning back on the bulk of her computer, “You and that Nuklear Moron have defeated me dozens of timez in a spotless display of heroics over the years. I will show the world that I possess the greatest mind of the century when my diabolical riddle renders him utterly defeated. He'll then be honor bound to exchange himself for you.” She gave the traditional dramatic pause, “And that will be the end of Nuklear Dolt!” This exact moment would have been the perfect time for lightning to strike and thunder to boom, but due to the local weather patterns, no such theatric display was possible. Alas.
“A battle of wits, then?”
“Essentially.”
“It's been a fun life.”
She chuckled in amusement. “I'm afraid that attempting to instill me with a false sense of confidence in the hopes that I may fail while drunk on my hubris are futile. No hero could be so successful and yet so incompetent. I'm on to your little ploy,” she said.
“Ploy?”
Another laugh, “Do not insult me. I know that Nuklear Idiot has orchestrated this complex act that he iz a bumbling oaf in order to get the psychological upper hand on the less experienzed villains. A very ingenious, and thuz far, successful tactic.”
“Ugh. Nuke could barely pronounce ‘orchestrate’ and his idea of ‘complex’ borders on the infantile. You of all people should know this!”
“A villain of my brilliance and resourcefulness could only be defeated by the most capable and intelligent of foez. And, with Nimrod Man out of the picture, I will be able to take over the world!”
Several lights began blinking in time with a quiet alarm. Menace turned to face the computer. “It seems our guezt of honor haz arrived.” She grinned deviously and turned to the monitor which now displayed a schematic of the grounds with an orange dot rapidly approaching the center marked “Evil: Hideout.”
A great golden meteor crashed through the wall opposite Menace's computer. Her eyes widened as she dove for cover just before the comet came to a messy stop on the other side of her oversized and now destroyed number cruncher. The building groaned from the sudden punishment, as if saying “Eroding to the ages is bad enough without having idiots like you crashing through my load bearing walls.” Dust and plaster fell from the ceiling.
“Owf! I bit by dongue,” the Hero of heroes said as he rose from the smoking heap of ex-computer.
Atomik Lad rolled his eyes, “Typical.”
Nuklear Man scanned the decrepit grounds, “Badomik Fab!” he said holding his tongue, “Ey... ow’d jew get heel fust?”
The sidekick grumbled to himself, “Let go of your tongue when you talk!”
He complied, “Ah yes, much better. What’cha doin’?”
“I'm being held captive! Now release me so we can thrash Menace!”
“Got it.”
“Not so fast, Nuklear Boob!” Dr. Menace's voice rang from behind several large pieces of equipment that used to be her impressive computer. She stood, hair and dusty lab coat flowing in whatever wind causes things like that to flow in moments like these. “Make one false move, and you can take your precious sidekick home in a tin can!” She held a complex remote control above her head.
“Gasp!” gasped Nuklear Man.
She flashed Nuklear Man a smile of evil triumph. “Now that I have your attention,” she began. Unfortunately, she wasn’t quite right. Nuklear Man was immediately transfixed by the blinking red light atop the antenna of Menace’s remote control.
“Shiny,” he said in a daze.
Atomik Lad hung his head.
Menace's gloating glare faded as she realized the target of Nuklear Man's attention. “Ahem...” she asserted, but to no avail.
“Red,” he grinned in satisfaction.
She growled in annoyance and shook the control violently, rending it from Nuklear Man's eyes. He frowned.
“Now then,” she continued, “With but a turn of this dial, I could crush your lovely sidekick!”
“Gasp again!” he gasped again.
“Quite. However, he iz not what I want—”
“Oh good! You'll be releasing him then, glad to hear it. You're certainly a much nicer villain than you used to be.”