Post by redsycorax on Sept 30, 2018 21:49:59 GMT
One night, Mr Might had a peculiar if recurrent dream...
"Was it really neccessary to drag me all the way out of the Hopping on One Leg Labs, Father Dum-Bell?"
"Barb-El, my son, I have portentous news to relate."
"Seriously, Father, we're on the verge of making a breakthrough back there. We think we have finally found the fabled post consciousness particle which goes Neep after it survives death."
"There are more important things than postmortal particles that go Neep, son Barb-El. You see, Neon is dead. Your mother K'lara, your uncle and aunt Driv-El and Alustra, your cousin Phlara, your second grandparent once removed Nyg-El and so on. Yes, the entire civilisation of Neon is now extinct."
"Er, Dum-Bel, you do realise we're actually on Neon at the moment? Right, that does it, turn around, I'm taking you to see Doctor Ned-Flan."
"I have no need of medical treatment, Barb-El and definitely not from that honking avian creature. As you know, Neon scientists have discovered that at the cessation of human consciousness at the time of death, a small white spheroid is released which accelerates around the afterlife going Neep repeatedly."
Barb-El (Mr Might) sighed to himself. Oh, so it was going to be one of those dream conversations with his father, was it?
"Yes, as I've told you, I'm busily engaged in that very research project. So...?"
"You see, my son, you too are en route to becoming a small white spheroid that sashays around going Neep in the afterlife."
"Right, that's enough. This dream sequence is becoming totally ridiculous. I have no desire to continue to pander to your delusions of grandeur and megalomania, Father Dum-Bel. I'm surprised Doze of the Without Endless let this one through, incidentally."
"Beware, Son Barb-El. Beware... beware...bew..."
Well, that was an absolutely weird dream, thought Mr Might. For one thing, my father Dum-Bell is still alive, somewhat well, and much the same is true of Neon.
The Troubalert started to throb:
"Go away," said Mr Might,"I'm nursing an horrendous hangover from too much Altairian Brandy."
"This is serious, Cliff. It's our old ally Patriot. He's..."
"Dead."
"No, that's just it. He's alive, Cliff. He awoke in our morgue and seems none the worse for wear whatsoever."
"Uh oh. That sounds suspiciously like Haney's Syndrome at work, again, with its viral contempt for decent continuity and characterisation. Hang on, I'll get dressed and head up to our satellite."
Bat Woman was waiting, as was the puzzled Patriot: "Hey, Jabez. How was the afterlife?"
"I can't remember. Why was I dead?"
"Uh oh. Memory loss. Not good."
Deep below Stately Payne Manor, another cheap resurrection had spontaneously occurred. Badman sat up, looked in the mirror and noticed his flab format Badsuit was now hopelessly ill-suited to current requirements. He stepped out of it, then rigged up the BadTailor (c) programme to create a newly buff Badsuit. He decided to call an old friend:
"What?..." Dirk Grierson said, enjoyably entangled with his partner, Hamish MacHunk, in a Peculiar Place bedroom.
"Yoo hoo, Dirky boy, look at me. Want to slide down my Badpole?"
Dirk opened one eye and stared at his communicator device: "Oh, Brian. You appear to have resurrected, and lost some weight. Sorry, still not interested. You know where you can stick your Badpole, and it had better not be anywhere near me."
Hamish joined him: "Who's yon exhibitionist manslut, Dirk?"
"Hamish MacHunk, meet my thankfully ex-partner Brian Payne, otherwise known as Badman. Also gay, although there was a thirty year age gap between us. And still is, even if there has been a cheap resurrection and regeneration. The wrapping may be nicer, but it's still the same awful personality underneath."
"Hmmm, nice. Hamish, my boy, what would you say to triangular love?"
"I'm nae intae polygons?"
"Four words, Brian. Try monogamy. Good night." Before he became once more enjoyably entangled with Hamish, though, Dirk texted the FBUS satellite. They had to be warned about Brian's return from the afterlife and his suddenly nubile status.
Lady Liberty groaned: "Oh, please, not another cheap resurrection."
"That was Lightswitch. Apparently, Badman has reanimated, turned hot all of a sudden, and is parading nekkid around the Badcave."
"And Dirk never thought to freezeframe that for me? How unthoughtful."
"Er, Dana, now that Patriot's alive again, what do you intend to do about the divorce?"
"Oh, what a nuisance these inexplicable reanimations are. At least with zombies it's straightforward, their lack of brains prevents them from being eligible for inheritance purposes. And Bat Woman's Warlock beau is a nicer sort of undead which hangs onto its property indefinitely. Back to the lawyers..."
Swinging through the night, Badman nearly collided with Badgirl:
"Oh, hello, Brian. You seem...different. Incidentally, isn't that Badcodpiece a little large?"
"I see you've formed a new Duo of Darkness, Badgirl. Can I have my trusty former loyal retainer back, please?"
"Albumin is his own zombie now. And you never provided him with the appropriate amount of..."
"Braaaainsssss." Albert Happennysworth said from the sidecar of the Badmobile below.
"Incidentally, that's my Badmobile too."
"Sorry, I have the official documents of ownership and purchase."
"You what? You do recognise that was my secret identity?!"
"Sorry, Brian, you were somewhat rancid and inert. Even before you officially died."
"All right, how about a Toxic Trio?"
"Hmmm. All right. But you're the third wheel on this tricycle..."
"I don't think that metaphor quite made sense."
"You may well be right."
And at that point, yet another couple of caped and masked figures swept into the FBUS satellite:
"Who are you?"
"We're Batqueen and Guido the Clone Wonder, from Earth-79, in pursuit of our archfoe, The Thatcher!!!"
Bat Woman sighed: "Sorry, I have the Bat franchise for this universe..."
"No, you don't understand. The Thatcher is an insane megalomaniac dedicated to taking over Great Britain." Bat Queen replied
"Isn't it a little too late for bad Margaret Thatcher jokes? She died five years ago on most Earths, except on those she blew up in the eighties."
"Clone Wonder?" Mr Might asked
"Our Earth's a little ahead of yours when it comes to human genetic modification. Anyhow, that's not important now." Guido said, unrolling a portable viewscreen:
"On our world, Batqueen and I started our careers in the late sixties, and fought a range of supercriminals... Blondeman, The Niggler and the Thatcher amongst them. The Thatcher was the most heinous of them, wreaking havoc across much of the United Kingdom in the eighties, with the assistance of her Zombitory legions. Finally, even they had enough of her reign of terror and deposed her in 1990. She wouldn't accept that and started self-defeating reprisals against her former mindless servants for most of the ensuing decade. Recently, in an act of utter fanaticism, the Niggler, one of her most abject cronies was responsible for blowing the European Community of Nations. He was apprehended, but fingered her." Guido finished his expository dialogue.
"So basically, you're a cross between the Bat franchise and wear an Amazon tiara and golden lasoo..." Lady Liberty noted.
"Yes, when my drag mother Queen Herculanea was cruelly rubbed out by the mob, I fossicked around in her wardrobe and found these outfits. So I spliced them together. Later, I rescued Guido from a cloning facility in Detroit."
"So, to cut an industraial strength piece of expository dialogue mercifully short, is this The Thatcher behind the current reanimation of dead superheroes and supervillains on our world, or is it just lousy continuity by a lazy fanfiction writer?" At that point, however, Green Canary was flattened suddenly by a falling grand piano:
"Pretty green bird!" sobbed Bowman, her husband.
Meanwhile, The Thatcher was carving a reign of terror across Northern England on Earth-55, much as had been the case on Earth-79 thirty years beforehand:
"They say the good things in life are priceless
But I don't care, give them to the flowers and trees
I want money
That's what I want
Ronnie Raygun gave me cheap thrills
But your foreign exchange won't recoup my costs
I want money
That's what I want
Money can't provide everything, it's true
But what can't be monetised, I will never be able to use
I want money
That's what I want
I want money
I want the entire average British GDP
In fact, I want so much money
it'd bankrupt the IMF!
Give me all of your money
Just give me poll tax money.."
The Thatcher wailed surrealistically on her way to destroy the European Union.
Meanwhile, on the FBUS satellite, yet another existential crisis was brewing, given Green Canary's sudden death and the equally abrupt resignation of the Bowman in grief and shock. Bat Woman frowned:
"All right, what is the association between the cheap resurrection of Badman and Patriot, and the sudden appearance of The Thatcher on our Earth? Or is it just a loose correlation?"
"Wait, that's it! The Thatcher must have reanimated her Zombitory army on this Earth and the thaumaturgic backwash caused the abrupt resurrection of our deceased team member and minor league supervillain." The Mermaid exclaimed.
"We're missing a bizarre plot twist somewhere in all this. If... it had that effect on one of our foes, what's to stop it from reanimating our other nemesis..."
"Not....!" Patriot gasped.
"Yes...the Super Fiends!!!"
And at that point, in an ornate tomb that looked suspiciously like the Hall of Freedom, but with the words Hall of Unfreedom etched atop it:
Gathered together from the worst corners of the galaxy come the most sinister villains ever assembled, dedicated to one objective, the conquest of the universe!!!... Supermenace! Warrior Woman! Badman and Robber! Aqueous Criminal! In a fit of grief after the sudden death of Green Canary, Bowman shot the annoying narratophage before resigning from the Freedom Brigade.
"One question. Why does Warrior Woman have a moustache? In fact, why do they all have moustaches?" Lightswitch asked.
"Dirk, you were a Super Fiend. What do you remember of the others?"
"They were cheap knock offs of main continuity DC metahumans, even compared to us. They're from the Dork Multiverse, stultifyingly badly designed alternate Earths that embarrass those with better narrative design, plotting and characterisation. Worse still, elements of it are starting to infect our own Earth. For example, the moustache and goatee on Warrior Woman."
"Excuse me, we've just spotted a cunning plot twist by the resident supervillain. We think The Thatcher is conniving with the Superfiends so the menace she represents to Northern England will go undeterred." Batqueen pointed to the pulsating blue blob on the hardly state of the art jury rigged FBUS Troubelalert graphic interface.
"Nyahahaha! I am Supermenace, strange evildoer from a distant planet, oolp!"
"Diamond kryptonite is a woman's best friend- even better when it dispatches pseudo-Kryptonian pests into the Twilight Zone." Lady Liberty observed happily.
"Happy herpes! Kol! You will pay, oolp." Princess Power shut off her welding torch after she welded together Warrior Woman's Fakazonian bracelets, with that ridiculous plot loophole that makes her lose her powers in the process:
"Women should learn a trade, you can never tell when it'll come in useful."
Badman protested: "This is unfair..." Bat Woman crash tackled him and in no time at all, the Bat Girls had tied him up.
Aqueous Criminal was promptly swallowed by a convenient if anachronistic Megalodon prehistoric shark, which had never died out on Earth-55. Nor did it respond to his telepathic communications, only those of Mermaid.
Having disposed of their extremely minor threat in less than two minutes, the heroes were free to search for The Thatcher, who had somehow enlarged and who was rocking around on top of the Empire State Building, with Guido in her hand:
"Hahahaha!!! Even if they threw me off Earth-79, I shall dominate this planet instead!!! Nyahahaha!"
Batqueen quailed:
"Oh no...she's read the Apocryphal Gnostic Book of Liber Al, which fortells the coming of Thatcher, the Fifth Horsewoman of the Apocalypse, who will come to wreak poverty, despair, cruelty and pain across Scotland, Wales and Nothern England!!!"
Lightswitch cleared his throat: "Ahem. Isn't this hackneyed antiquated Thatcher hate-in business going a bit too far?"
"Listen, you, come back to us after that orangutan president of yours in the White House isn't swinging from the chandeliers, biting people and throwing his own excrement at random passersby."
Patriot gasped: "You're not suggesting we should have elected a w-w-w-w..." He turned a ghastly red colour and began choking:
"Hilary Clinton? Look, you do realise what an embarrassing situation your world is in, right? Apart from Earth-33, whose Southern United States is exceptionally stupid and backward, you're the only other Earth in the multiverse where there isn't a first US female president at least behaving with some dignity, intelligence and sanity."
"How do you propose to eliminate that ghastly creature from our world and send her back to yours, where she belongs?"
"Good point. Look, we can't hit a woman, even an enormous demonic entity from an alternate world." Princess Power, Batwoman and Lady Liberty looked at each other, nodded, and flew toward the gigantic Thatcher and threw her toward a multiversal hole that had conveniently opened up. Batqueen and Guido waved goodbye and jumped in after her. Abruptly, Patriot dropped dead again:
"Oh, excellent, how highly useful for the purposes of my final property settlement."
"Yeah, if only I could get that cheap single entendre from the opening out of my mind..."
"I hate to point this out, but now we've lost three members- Patriot, Green Canary and Bowman. We're shortchanged on our membership yet again."
THE END