Low Budget Productions proudly presents,
A chaotic add-on cascade-type Legion of Net.Heroes title
Dedicated to Marc Singer
Birth of a Villain #29
"Another 48 Minutes", or "Eddie Murphy and Nick Nolte Did *What*?"
Written by Jamie Rosen
WHAT HAS GONE BEFORE:
A whole heckuva lot, including: A slew of evil beings called Melissa/Vector
attack the Legion of Net.Heroes and putting a good number of them to sleep;
an unholy alliance between the Church of the Fourth Wall and the Church of
Dvandom being broken in favour of an unholy alliance between the Church of
the Fourth Wall and the Nodakommandos; Mouse, Easily-Discovered Man Lite and
company being sent back in time to 1984 and having to battle Russian heroes
Boris and Natasha; Writer's Block Woman, Insomnia Lad, Chinese Guy, and
Fourth Wall Lass having to fend off a mechaLissa; Authorial and Lad (and
Narcoleptic Lad *clunk* zzzz....) being saved from Vector by
Invisible-Intangible-Inaudible Lass; Former President WH Taft being brought
back from the dead to attack the Church of the Fourth Wall; the
Cabbage-Wielding Angel of Death being summoned to battle Former President WH
Taft; and Fourth Wall Demolisher Lad, the Expendable Man, and Pedestrian
Girl of the extra-dimensional Legion of Costumed Individuals accidentally
arriving in the Loonieverse and teaming with a classic hero nobody has ever
heard of before, Google-13.
Minute 1
*Zppft*
*Phloom*
*Skra-ma-na-KWANG!*
The sounds of battle emanated from the building Google-13 had identified as
the headquarters of the Church of the Fourth Wall -- a group somehow related
to all of the catastrophic goings on Pedestrian Girl and her two team-mates
had witnessed since arriving in this... Loonieverse, and quite possibly
responsible for Fourth-Wall Demolisher Lad's accidental transporting of the
three of them there in the first place.
"Hey, you," she said, tapping Google-13 on the shoulder. "What's that
sound?"
Google-13 lit a cigarette. "Everybody, look -- what's going down is that
we've got a super-battle inside the Church of the Fourth Wall. Don't know
who's involved, or what they're fighting over. So let's go." Taking a long
drag on his cigarette and drawing his custom-made-in-1984 handgun from its
holster, he ran toward the building.
"I'm glad he managed to reload between issues," Fourth Wall Demolisher Lad
said, before the three costumed individuals ran off in pursuit of their
erstwhile leader. Well, two of them ran. Pedestrian Girl walked very quickly.
*Zppft*
*Phloom*
*Skra-ma-na-KWANG!*
Minute 4
The battle inside the Church of the Fourth Wall was pitched. Zombie
strength, deadly cabbages, and sundry other special effects had conspired to
demolish a good portion of the lobby, not to mention the men's washroom. The
ladies' washroom, naturally, was untouched -- just because they're undead or
Angels of Death is no reason to assume they're perverts.
Taft bellowed. His vocal chords, after such a long time of being subjected
to the perfectly natural process of decomposition, were not well suited to
doing much else. So he bellowed again. In response, the Cabbage-Wielding
Angel of Death brandished a deadly cabbage in his direction. It was on this
scene of devastation that our heroes (for the moment) arrived.
Now, consider the image confronting them:
-a reanimated corpse bellowing and waving its powerful arms about in a
threatening and destructive manner
-an angel -- yes, an Angel of Death, but an angel nonetheless
What would you do?
"Freeze, you son of a gun," Google-13 said, pointing his pistol at the
shambling monstrosity that was Former President Taft. "Or by gosh I'll shoot
you where you stand."
Taft froze, but only because it took a while for him to react to new and
unusual situations. Or any other situations at all. DESTROY, DESTROY, KILL
ALL WHO OPPOSE YOU didn't really give him much room for improvisation,
although he was getting pretty good at the bellowing bit. Then, with all the
speed of a 286 trying to run Netscape, he reacted.
"ROAAWAAAR!" he bellowed, turning to face the four newcomers.
"I warned you," Google-13 muttered, squeezing off two rounds that thudded
into Taft's torso to no effect.
"ROAAWAAAR!" Taft repeated for emphasis.
Pedestrian Girl grabbed Google-13 and pulled him out of the way of a clumsy
flail of the perambulatory posthumous president's arms. On the follow through
the blow struck the Expendable Man, knocking into the wall.
"Don't you ever shoot something and have it *work*?" she hissed as the two
of them ducked behind a water cooler while Fourth Wall Demolisher Lad tried
to distract the zombie by... dancing.
"Hey, Taft, can you keep up?" Fourth Wall Demolisher Lad asked, breaking
into a fast-paced Mashed Potato. "Well, can you?"
Taft paused, and this time it wasn't solely because of his misfiring
synapses. What would Teddy do? flitted across the bleak landscape of his
interior monologue once again, followed by the answer...
The Charleston.
Fourth Wall Demolisher Lad's jaw dropped as the zombie began its number,
kicking sideways with one foot while pivoting on the other, every motion
eliciting creaks and protests from dry and dusty bones.
"Well what do you know," the Expendable Man said as he stood up, rubbing
his jaw. "Dead can dance."
"Come on, Fourth Wall Demolisher Lad, you've got him distracted!"
Pedestrian Girl shouted over the water cooler. "Keep dancing!"
Fourth Wall Demolisher Lad nodded and began to do the Swim. "Is that all
you've got, Taft?" he asked. The zombie stopped and stared at him out of
hollow, lifeless eyes. "Uh oh," Fourth Wall Demolisher Lad muttered as the
mindless president (no, not you, George W.) began to advance on him.
"Walk, Fourth Wall Demolisher Lad!" Pedestrian Girl shouted.
"Run!" shouted the Expendable Man, more thoughtfully.
But before Fourth Wall Demolisher Lad could get away, the creature made its
move -- swiping the entire choreography for "Thriller"!
Fourth Wall Demolisher Lad's eyes lit up. "Oh yeah?" he asked. "Well, can
you rock it like this?"
He squatted, fell back onto his hands and kicked one leg high in the air,
then sprung back to both legs and repeated it again.
"Applejacks," Pedestrian Girl whispered. Then she turned to Google-13.
"He's challenging Taft to battle," she explained.
"I know that," he said, starting in on a fresh cigarette and holstering his
custom-made-in-1984 weapon. "You think I've never seen b-boys before?"
A hush fell over the room as agents, heroes, and costumed individuals
formed a circle around Fourth Wall Demolisher Lad and Former President Taft.
Even the Cabbage-Wielding Angel of Death moved in for a closer look.
Thoughts of DESTROY, DESTROY and KILL ALL WHO OPPOSE YOU were supplanted in
Taft's mind by more pressing instincts, instincts that could not be ignored.
BUST, BREAK and BOOGIE took up all of his limited thought processes.
And so it began.
Taft kept it simple at first, replying to Fourth Wall Demolisher's
applejacks with a pair of his own before moving on to a helicopter, into some
footwork, and then into a a hollowback and back into some airswipes. The
gathered crowd murmured in appreciation.
"Not bad," Google-13 said between puffs.
"Fourth Wall Demolisher Lad can take him."
On cue, Fourth Wall Demolisher Lad strode confidently to the centre of
the circle, starting out with some footwork, then segueing into a float
which turned into an impressive bronco series. Some more footwork bridged
the gap into a rubber band. The crowd cheered enthusiastically.
"I hope he didn't bust out a big move too early in the game," Google-13
said.
"Well, it's challenged Taft to match him already, before the ex-president
may have had the chance to warm up," Pedestrian Girl observed.
Taft seemed to hesitate for a second before taking up his spot in the
circle. He started out with a front flip, then into some downrock, but as
he went for a hand glide he lost his balance and fell in a heap on the floor.
"Ooooh," the crowd said in unison.
"Well, that's that," Pedestrian Girl said, turning her back so she could
face Google-13. "I told you Fourth Wall Demolisher Lad could--"
"ROAAWAAAR!"
The circle scattered as the zombie got back to its feet. It had been
burned, and that was something it would neither forget nor forgive easily.
"ROAAWAAAR!" it added for emphasis.
*Zppft*
*Phloom*
*Skra-ma-na-KWANG!*
*Whomp*
The Cabbage-Wielding Angel of Death's cabbage found its mark, crashing full
on into the humiliated ex-president and driving the unlife from his body,
which collapsed in a heap of improperly-exhumed body parts on the floor as
the Angel disappeared from the scene.
Minute 11 (elsewhere in the compound)
Father Brown looked over the readouts he had been receiving on an hourly
basis. Something was going wrong. Terribly, terribly wrong. As wrong as a
movie about a chimpanzee playing hockey. As wrong as movie about a dog
playing football. As wrong as a movie starring Pauley Shore, David Arquette,
or Tom Green.
Father Brown shuddered. Maybe not quite *that* wrong.
"Deacon Split-The-Defense, to me," he commanded. One of the golden deacons
of his inner sanctum stepped forward.
"Father Brown," he said.
"Read this to me," Father Brown said, handing a sheaf of papers to the
deacon. "I trust not my own eyes."
"*ahem*,* Deacon Split-The-Defense began. "'Temporal flux coincided with
weapons discharge. Summoning of Cabbage-Wielding Angel of Death recalled
death/non-death of Legion of Net.Heroes. MegaLissa defeated by beings not of
our reality.' Father Brown, what is this?"
"It's a list of everything that's going wrong with our plans!" Father
Brown shouted in a most unpriestly way. "Every step we take, we do more and
more damage to the Fourth Wall! Just imagine what will happen if we use this
interdimensional teleportation device ourselves!" He sighed and tried to calm
down. "I can't catch a break around here. I mean, really. We have agents
reporting intervention by characters who haven't been seen in *years*. It's a
mad house, I tell you, a mad house!!!!!"
Deacon Split-The-Defense glanced at his fellow deacons, who were studiously
ignoring Father Brown's imminent nervous breakdown.
"Father," the deacon said. "What should we do?"
"What *can* we do?" Father Brown wailed, burying his face in the sleeves of
his robe of office. "I should have just stayed in bed today."
"Should we abort the collaboration with the Nodakommandos?"
Father Brown shook his head. "No... it is... our best hope." As he pulled
his face from his sleeve and dabbed at his nose with one cuff, all of the
alarms in the compound went silent.
"That's a relief," he said.
Then they burst into a renewed cacophony.
"WHAT NOW?!!?!!!??!!" he wailed.
"I'm sorry, sir," a technician said, running into the office. "We ran out
of alarms, so we had to reboot the system so we could use the alarms for a
new calamity."
Deacon Split-The-Defense stroked his chin. "Reboot, eh?" he muttered under
his breath before turning to Father Brown. "Father, I... have a plan."
Minute 26
"Wakey wakey, eggs and bakey!"
wReamicus Maximus frowned. Fourth Wall Lass was still asleep.
"Rise and shine, pumpkin."
Still no response.
His frown deepening by the second, wReamicus put down the tray of scrambled
eggs and bacon and walked over to the tap, where he got a glass of water.
Returning to Fourth Wall Lass' prone form, he emptied the contents directly
onto her face. Still no reaction.
"Curses!" he cursed. "What use is a sleeping Fourth Wall Lass?"
Minute 28
"Tell me," Pedestrian Girl said to Google-13 as she bandaged the cuts and
scrapes the Expendable Man and Fourth Wall Demolisher Lad had accumulated
during the battle, "why are you such a bitter anti-hero?"
Google-13 opened a fresh pack of smokes, looking off into the distance. "It
happened a long time ago. I'd been in the heroing game for a few years
already, but I was still naive. I still thought I could make a difference. I
still thought people were inherently good." He patted the custom-made-in-1984
gun that sat dutifully in its holster. "It was right after I'd had this baby
made." He pulled a lighter out of his pocket, but didn't start the cigarette
that was dangling from his mouth.
"It was a woman," Pedestrian Girl said.
"How did you know?"
"It always is."
Minute 35, but 17 years earlier
"Now we set off the bomb and destroy you, hostage Stomper, and Times Square
all at same time!"
Those were the first words the idealistic young man heard upon arriving on
the scene. He didn't know who the men and women that had shown up to fight
these Russkies were, but he had seen enough on the news coverage to be
impressed by their bravery and ingenuity. Well, some of them. Drawing the
handgun his associate Queue had just finished making specially for him, the
hero leapt over the police barricade (and a squirrel doing pirouettes) and
levelled it at the two hostage-takers. The gun, that is.
"Alright you two," he shouted. "Freeze."
"What is this?" Boris shouted. "You are to be ambushing us?"
A slight grin playing at his lips, the gun-wielding hero moved over to the
other heroes. "Put the detonator down, or I'll shoot."
"American dog-monkey!" The Russian woman, Natasha, spat in his general
direction as she joined her partner. "If we set off the bomb, we die anyway."
"So my threats are meaningless," the young man said, lowering his weapon.
"Because you are willing to be blown to tiny little bits that will give city
sanitation workers nightmares trying to clean it all up."
"Yes."
"Because you're willing to die for your beliefs," Mouse said.
"Yes."
"Because you're willing to sacrifice your life for a meaningless and
utterly symbolic act devoid of any real value as a catalyst for change,"
added Easily-Discovered Man Lite.
"Yes."
Boris tapped Natasha on the shoulder. "I am not being sure about this," he
said.
"What?" Natasha asked, turning to her comrade.
"I am not being sure about this sacrificing bit."
"Oh. Da. It is accurate that I was having difficulty with it, in addition."
Natasha thought. "Perhaps it is best to be putting down detonator?"
"Da. Da." Boris nodded, placing the detonator on the ground beside his
foot.
"Much better," the heroic newcomer said, moving quickly to pick up the
detonator before a clumsy Russian Net.Villain accidentally stepped on it. He
walked over to the other heroes, who were gathering and starting to yell at
each other. "Here you go," he said, handing the device to Mouse. He glanced
at her clothes. "Nice outfit."
Mouse glared at him. "Thanks," she said, dryly.
"Hey, buddy," Lite said. "Eyes off my woman."
Mouse's glare turned to Lite and redoubled in strength.
"That's not a very enlightened way to talk," the fellow said. He turned to
Mouse. "I'm sure you could do better. Well, see you around." He saluted them
with the barrel of his gun and turned to go.
"Hey, buddy," Lite said, causing the man to turn around once more. "What's
your name?" he asked.
"Google," the man said, smiling. "Google-13."
Minute 48
Beep.
Beep.
Beep.
Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep.
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* * * * * * * * *
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WHERE DID THE CABBAGE-WIELDING ANGEL OF DEATH RUN OFF TO?
WHAT IS DEACON SPLIT-THE-DEFENSE'S PLAN?
WHAT WAS THAT SINISTER BEEPING SOUND?
WHAT USE *IS* A SLEEPING FOURTH-WALL LASS?
WILL MR. STOMPER HELP LITE, MOUSE, AND THE OTHERS ESCAPE FROM THE YEAR
1984?
IS THAT BETTER, MARC?
For answers to these and/or other questions, be sure to tune
in to the next issue of Birth of a Villain!
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Author's Note: Hope I did a good job of actually furthering the plot.
--
"Smoke is smoky!"
