Post by redsycorax on Sept 7, 2020 5:46:51 GMT
There are many Earths that are terribly, terribly improbable, but which carry on blithely without any regard for continuity, coherence, aesthetic taste or regard for observers forced to watch them. Take Earth-9767, for example. This Earth had no real reason to exist, other than to focus primarily on the exploits of one Jerry Lewis (1926-2017), a US comedian. It happens to be a metaverse unfortunately, so everything that was recorded in the Adventures of Jerry Lewis, a sixties DC comic, actually did happen there. Lewis had been the "Fearless Tarantula" in 1964 already, but an irate Peter Parker sued him for infringement of intellectual copyright, which led to the rapid end of that momentary interlude. In 1966, Lewis ventured into costume again, as Ratman, a cheap rip-off copy of a certain Caped Crusader, which led to a crossover with the real Batman and Robin a la 1966. For reasons that are infathomable but probably generic, Jerry Lewis knew the Dynamic Duo's secret identities. Jerry's no-good fictional subteen nephew Renfrew Lewis also got in on the act as Rotten. The whole adventure left a jaded Batpair deeply annoyed and they refused to appear alongside Lewis, and later retired on the royalties from the sixties television series. Incidentally, Batman didn't have access to Bruce Wayne's fortune. Robin got fed up with Renfrew and tried to strangle him. Which should have been 'it' for Ratman as well. Unfortunately, Earth-9767 thereupon veered off on its own tangent, in which Lewis retained that identity. Renfrew finally grew up and left the series, but Lewis continued to be bedevilled by Witch Kraft, a homo magus native to that particular alternate Earth. Superman, the Flash (1968) and the depowered Diana (Wonder Woman) Prince (1970) also crossed paths with Lewis. Yes, I know the archival material actually says Earth 12, but Earth-9767 is one of those convenient exactly identical alternate Earths that suddenly branched off at some point. Which leaves the inconvenient fact that on most conventional alternate Earths, Mr Lewis died in 2017. Fortunately, although ramshackle in other ways, Earth-9767's metaversal continuity provides an escape route- Lewis mixed it up with various monsters and there's a witch in his immediate vicinity. Cue convenient immortality in which he doesn't age from 1971 onward. Anyhow, on with this unconvincing adventure.
++
Ratman dragged his inutility belt across the clearing, which rather prevented him from pursuing his archnemeses, the Kangaroo Gang. Unlike his winged myotid namesake, Ratman didn't have any budget at all for a convenient secret headquarters or fancy vehicles or props with the "Rat" prefix attached to them. He wished his old flame Witch Kraft was around somewhere, but she was busy somewhere doing her own crimefighting, having gotten rather pissed off at him because of her unannounced non-inclusion in his exploits as the Righteous Rodent. Still, at least his pestiferous nephew Renfrew wasn't around anymore, having grown to manhood abruptly in 1971 after seven years as a preteen, meaning that he went off to Thudson University. Because of Ratman's incompetence at crimefighting, the Kangaroo Gang invested their loot in sophisticated criminal technological applications of their own. Partly because they were also extremely stupid, however, and had a lamentable modus operandi of their own, mainstream supervillains got annoyed at their success rate against the Masked Murine and threw them out of the American Society of Costumed Villains due to jealousy. Shortly thereafter, Superman got married to Latona Lysistrata, the Ultrawoman of the planet Algon, and left Earth to fend for itself. Wonder Woman returned to Paradise Island, but was replaced by the renegade Valkyrie Brawnhilda. Brawnhilda developed a crush on Ratman, which led to more friction with Witch Kraft. As for the ASCV, bereft of Batman, they retired in disgust and abandoned the supervillain field as a consequence, induced by Batman's offer of a share in the lucrative series royalties which had made him independently wealthy of his secret identity.
Abruptly, there was a flash of light and a wrinkled, seriously stereotyped old crone materialised in front of the Murine Manhandler:
"Witchie! Am I glad to see you."
"Is that no-good Valkyrie with the bad Scandinavian accent around?"
In reply, a battleaxe impacted on the wood above her
Witch Kraft glared: "Hey! Watch my hat, you."
From the forest stalked a tall, statuesque, armour-clad Valkyrie with rippling muscles. Quite why she was interested in Ratman was not clear, perhaps due to unexpected desire for puny, out of shape guys in their forties. Anyhow, Brawnhilda, last of the Valkyries, extracted her battleaxe from out of the oak and hissed:
"Get lost, you redhaired eldritch temptress!"
"Hey now, no fighting, you two! I was tracking down the Kangaroo Gang and I'm trying to foil their latest bank robbery."
"Let us help!" Ratman's two would-be lovers unintentionally chorused. Ratman sighed to himself- this wouldn't be easy. He almost missed his one-time sidekick Rotten, the Boy Quandry, but his nephew Renfrew had long since passed puberty, gone to university and moved to the financial district of New York, where his obnoxious and abrasive immaturity was a much-treasured personality trait in the share market. Out of embarrassment at his incompetence and shoddy preparation for crimefighting, replacement Rottens had been hard to find once his one-time companion had started to wear long trousers and his voice broke.
Meanwhile, the Kangaroo Gang were counting their ill-gotten loot and gloating about it in their tilted, strangely lit derelict warehouse headquarters:
"Wack the doodle and stuff the jumbuck in your tucker bag! Struth! Bonza!"
"Excuse me, what language are you speaking?"
"Strine, the natural argot of Australians everywhere."
"Well, cut it out. This is a predominantly American readership who have no idea whatsoever what you're talking about. And anyway, the author's only doing it because he's a patriotic New Zealander and has it in for Aussies. Now, have you finished tallying up our bank robbery proceeds?"
"It comes to twelve hundred and fifteen dollars."
"What? All that for a paltry sum? We risked capture from the Rodent of Righteousness for that?"
"Look, it's not our fault that given the number of successful bank raids we've carried out, most of Stoatham City's financial institutions have improved their security measures and we can't get in there any more. Or that our world never experienced the 1973 oil shock, 1987 or 2008 stock market crashes and recessions, so small banks like the Third Trans-American Bank of Arkansas were viable financial entities despite their meagre actual holdings."
"Enough expository dialogue and worldbuilding. Ratman is going to track us down any moment now and we'll have a luridly overcoloured fight scene with him."
"Can't we redesign our uniforms? They're badly designed for combat purposes and they don't conceal our own identities."
"If only we knew whom Ratman was beneath that domino mask he wears...." [Yes, well, I did tell you they had as much cerebral matter as two Planck measurements- Ed]
"STAND AND FACE THE MUSIC, YOU HOPPING HELLRAISERS!!!"
"Ratman! The redhaired old crone with the warts on her nose! And the tall, statuesque Norse mythological figure!!!"
"Hang on, I know that spherical head shape! Why, it's Lex Loofa!!!"
"Curse you, Ratman!!! Yes, it is I!!! Who else do you think built all of the Kangaroo Gang's current technological ensemble??? Only a crooked supergenius like I fits the bill!!!"
Witch Kraft frowned: "Why is Loofa speaking in multiple exclamation marks?"
"He hasn't had an easy time of it since Superman flew off with that Algon floozy." Again, there was something troublingly familiar about the other Kangaroo Gang character. Suddenly, Ratman realised what:
"Holy reporter for a great metropolitan newspaper!!! Lotus Line!!!"
"Your deductive powers do you credit, Ratman."
Brawnhilda unsheathed Worldshatterer, her ominously named Valkyrie sword:
"Hah! So one of you is a woman!"
"Good, this means I can save Ratman by immobilising Loofa. And must there be so many exclamation marks in our dialogue?"
"Witchy, what would I do without you? So there, Loofa! Your evil plan is thwarted!"
Lex Loofa wasn't through, however:
"Ever since Superboy made me bald and unattractive to woman, man and beast alike, I have been itching for the day when I would reach global domination!"
"But Superman isn't even on Earth anymore. Why didn't you get a life, doing other things?"
Loofa frowned: "It's all right for those bloody Batman supervillains, they had merchandising revenue from that infernal television series and continuing royalties. And when Superman left Earth, our series was cancelled. Jiminy Olsoon is now a male exotic dancer, Periwinkle Fawn is retired and being haunted by Great Caesar's Ghost, Lala Long is a catwalk supermodel."
"Yes, and the Daily Satellite was shut down. After all that time chasing that gorgeous Kryptonian studhunkdude, I was left with nothing to lust after either. So, I decided arbitrarily to turn evil for no real reason. Careful with that sword, you'll dishevel my bouffant, you tall sweaty Valkyrie."
"You fight well, mortal. 'Tis a shame one of us will have to depart for Valhalla shortly."
"Time for a fight scene, Kangaroo Gang."
"Do we really have to have those tacky sound effects?"
"This is supposed to be a Batman '66 rip off, so yes. Hang on and don't run away while I ditch my inutility belt."
POW!
WHAM!
SCHLEP!
KABLOOIE!
BANG!
ABRACANDELABRA!!!
"And let that be a lesson to you, Kangaroo Gang. Virtue always triumphs!...Kangaroo Gang? Kangaroo Gang..?"
"While we were undergoing the lavish technicolour combat soundscape, I zapped them to Stoatham City Jail. Chief O'Flatulence and Commissioner Gargoyl will have to deal with them now." Witch Kraft said, smirking.
"Is that a good idea? You know how hopelessly incapable Stoatham City's police and correctional facilities are. They'll be out in another three days."
Ratman shrugged: "Yes, but at least this means we can relax for the next while. Let's go to a banal disco in badly colour coordinated clothes, big man hair and far too much costume jewelry."
"Why?" Brawnhilda asked
"Because we've run out of episode content and it's a weird sixties segue out of the plot. Come on, groove cats, let it all hang out!"
"Wow, man, it's a happening! Far out!" Witch Kraft enthused.
"Okay, that's overdoing it." Brawnhilda said, rolling her eyes.
"It's always 1971. What do you expect, continuity from a budget this cheap?" Ratman asked as they began the long walk back to the Lewis Lair, where the Rodent Rough-Houser assumed his daily identity as Jerry Lewis, mildly manic US comedian in his mid-forties.
Soon, Stoatham City Park was left to the noise of cows, sheep and strangely out of place rustic ornaments, primarily because the budget didn't run to realistic urban backdrops.
THE END
++
Ratman dragged his inutility belt across the clearing, which rather prevented him from pursuing his archnemeses, the Kangaroo Gang. Unlike his winged myotid namesake, Ratman didn't have any budget at all for a convenient secret headquarters or fancy vehicles or props with the "Rat" prefix attached to them. He wished his old flame Witch Kraft was around somewhere, but she was busy somewhere doing her own crimefighting, having gotten rather pissed off at him because of her unannounced non-inclusion in his exploits as the Righteous Rodent. Still, at least his pestiferous nephew Renfrew wasn't around anymore, having grown to manhood abruptly in 1971 after seven years as a preteen, meaning that he went off to Thudson University. Because of Ratman's incompetence at crimefighting, the Kangaroo Gang invested their loot in sophisticated criminal technological applications of their own. Partly because they were also extremely stupid, however, and had a lamentable modus operandi of their own, mainstream supervillains got annoyed at their success rate against the Masked Murine and threw them out of the American Society of Costumed Villains due to jealousy. Shortly thereafter, Superman got married to Latona Lysistrata, the Ultrawoman of the planet Algon, and left Earth to fend for itself. Wonder Woman returned to Paradise Island, but was replaced by the renegade Valkyrie Brawnhilda. Brawnhilda developed a crush on Ratman, which led to more friction with Witch Kraft. As for the ASCV, bereft of Batman, they retired in disgust and abandoned the supervillain field as a consequence, induced by Batman's offer of a share in the lucrative series royalties which had made him independently wealthy of his secret identity.
Abruptly, there was a flash of light and a wrinkled, seriously stereotyped old crone materialised in front of the Murine Manhandler:
"Witchie! Am I glad to see you."
"Is that no-good Valkyrie with the bad Scandinavian accent around?"
In reply, a battleaxe impacted on the wood above her
Witch Kraft glared: "Hey! Watch my hat, you."
From the forest stalked a tall, statuesque, armour-clad Valkyrie with rippling muscles. Quite why she was interested in Ratman was not clear, perhaps due to unexpected desire for puny, out of shape guys in their forties. Anyhow, Brawnhilda, last of the Valkyries, extracted her battleaxe from out of the oak and hissed:
"Get lost, you redhaired eldritch temptress!"
"Hey now, no fighting, you two! I was tracking down the Kangaroo Gang and I'm trying to foil their latest bank robbery."
"Let us help!" Ratman's two would-be lovers unintentionally chorused. Ratman sighed to himself- this wouldn't be easy. He almost missed his one-time sidekick Rotten, the Boy Quandry, but his nephew Renfrew had long since passed puberty, gone to university and moved to the financial district of New York, where his obnoxious and abrasive immaturity was a much-treasured personality trait in the share market. Out of embarrassment at his incompetence and shoddy preparation for crimefighting, replacement Rottens had been hard to find once his one-time companion had started to wear long trousers and his voice broke.
Meanwhile, the Kangaroo Gang were counting their ill-gotten loot and gloating about it in their tilted, strangely lit derelict warehouse headquarters:
"Wack the doodle and stuff the jumbuck in your tucker bag! Struth! Bonza!"
"Excuse me, what language are you speaking?"
"Strine, the natural argot of Australians everywhere."
"Well, cut it out. This is a predominantly American readership who have no idea whatsoever what you're talking about. And anyway, the author's only doing it because he's a patriotic New Zealander and has it in for Aussies. Now, have you finished tallying up our bank robbery proceeds?"
"It comes to twelve hundred and fifteen dollars."
"What? All that for a paltry sum? We risked capture from the Rodent of Righteousness for that?"
"Look, it's not our fault that given the number of successful bank raids we've carried out, most of Stoatham City's financial institutions have improved their security measures and we can't get in there any more. Or that our world never experienced the 1973 oil shock, 1987 or 2008 stock market crashes and recessions, so small banks like the Third Trans-American Bank of Arkansas were viable financial entities despite their meagre actual holdings."
"Enough expository dialogue and worldbuilding. Ratman is going to track us down any moment now and we'll have a luridly overcoloured fight scene with him."
"Can't we redesign our uniforms? They're badly designed for combat purposes and they don't conceal our own identities."
"If only we knew whom Ratman was beneath that domino mask he wears...." [Yes, well, I did tell you they had as much cerebral matter as two Planck measurements- Ed]
"STAND AND FACE THE MUSIC, YOU HOPPING HELLRAISERS!!!"
"Ratman! The redhaired old crone with the warts on her nose! And the tall, statuesque Norse mythological figure!!!"
"Hang on, I know that spherical head shape! Why, it's Lex Loofa!!!"
"Curse you, Ratman!!! Yes, it is I!!! Who else do you think built all of the Kangaroo Gang's current technological ensemble??? Only a crooked supergenius like I fits the bill!!!"
Witch Kraft frowned: "Why is Loofa speaking in multiple exclamation marks?"
"He hasn't had an easy time of it since Superman flew off with that Algon floozy." Again, there was something troublingly familiar about the other Kangaroo Gang character. Suddenly, Ratman realised what:
"Holy reporter for a great metropolitan newspaper!!! Lotus Line!!!"
"Your deductive powers do you credit, Ratman."
Brawnhilda unsheathed Worldshatterer, her ominously named Valkyrie sword:
"Hah! So one of you is a woman!"
"Good, this means I can save Ratman by immobilising Loofa. And must there be so many exclamation marks in our dialogue?"
"Witchy, what would I do without you? So there, Loofa! Your evil plan is thwarted!"
Lex Loofa wasn't through, however:
"Ever since Superboy made me bald and unattractive to woman, man and beast alike, I have been itching for the day when I would reach global domination!"
"But Superman isn't even on Earth anymore. Why didn't you get a life, doing other things?"
Loofa frowned: "It's all right for those bloody Batman supervillains, they had merchandising revenue from that infernal television series and continuing royalties. And when Superman left Earth, our series was cancelled. Jiminy Olsoon is now a male exotic dancer, Periwinkle Fawn is retired and being haunted by Great Caesar's Ghost, Lala Long is a catwalk supermodel."
"Yes, and the Daily Satellite was shut down. After all that time chasing that gorgeous Kryptonian studhunkdude, I was left with nothing to lust after either. So, I decided arbitrarily to turn evil for no real reason. Careful with that sword, you'll dishevel my bouffant, you tall sweaty Valkyrie."
"You fight well, mortal. 'Tis a shame one of us will have to depart for Valhalla shortly."
"Time for a fight scene, Kangaroo Gang."
"Do we really have to have those tacky sound effects?"
"This is supposed to be a Batman '66 rip off, so yes. Hang on and don't run away while I ditch my inutility belt."
POW!
WHAM!
SCHLEP!
KABLOOIE!
BANG!
ABRACANDELABRA!!!
"And let that be a lesson to you, Kangaroo Gang. Virtue always triumphs!...Kangaroo Gang? Kangaroo Gang..?"
"While we were undergoing the lavish technicolour combat soundscape, I zapped them to Stoatham City Jail. Chief O'Flatulence and Commissioner Gargoyl will have to deal with them now." Witch Kraft said, smirking.
"Is that a good idea? You know how hopelessly incapable Stoatham City's police and correctional facilities are. They'll be out in another three days."
Ratman shrugged: "Yes, but at least this means we can relax for the next while. Let's go to a banal disco in badly colour coordinated clothes, big man hair and far too much costume jewelry."
"Why?" Brawnhilda asked
"Because we've run out of episode content and it's a weird sixties segue out of the plot. Come on, groove cats, let it all hang out!"
"Wow, man, it's a happening! Far out!" Witch Kraft enthused.
"Okay, that's overdoing it." Brawnhilda said, rolling her eyes.
"It's always 1971. What do you expect, continuity from a budget this cheap?" Ratman asked as they began the long walk back to the Lewis Lair, where the Rodent Rough-Houser assumed his daily identity as Jerry Lewis, mildly manic US comedian in his mid-forties.
Soon, Stoatham City Park was left to the noise of cows, sheep and strangely out of place rustic ornaments, primarily because the budget didn't run to realistic urban backdrops.
THE END