“Lousy dust.” He beat the fashion accessory a few times. “There. Much better. Good thing you noticed that. You get twelve superpoints.”
“No, it’s one piece again. It’s not torn any more.”
Nuklear Man pondered for just over one second. “Must be like in the cartoons. Everything heals up when you step off screen.”
“Off screen? What are you…? That doesn’t make sense!”
“Of course it does. You just don’t watch enough cartoons.”
__________
Crushtacean was sprawled across his topside with his pincers lying half inside a couple severely damaged office buildings. He had tipped over a butter truck on impact. The Nova Beam had broiled a fair portion of the Angered Arthropod’s main body. The smell was delicious.
__________
Angus was sprawled across his back atop a random downtown skyscraper. He awoke with a jerk, blinked his bleary eyes in the sun, rubbed his throbbing skull, and suddenly got very angry. “That blasted Nuuklear haggis brained nimrod! Ah’ll have his pretty boy Frenchie blond locks and stuff them down that smug face o’ his fer this! DWARF-A-PULT!” The hideous mutation of sound echoed through the calm of post-crab Metroville.
__________
Crushtacean awoke. The haunting melody of the mating call roused his aching body from the verge of death. His eyes opened to an upside down world. The exoskeleton was already healing the damage dealt to it. The mating call was no dream. Crushtacean sprang to its eight feet and scuttled through the city, heedless of buildings or whatever else might obstruct his path.
She will be mine. Oh yes. She will be mine...
__________
Issue 22 – Planning for Failure
Librarian, Mail Man, Meter Maid, and Delivery Boy, The Minimum Wage Warriors, posed among the wreckage which had, minutes before, been a few rather bustling and productive blocks of Metroville. “Our job here is done,” Mail Man said with a salute.
“Now off to our real jobs,” Meter Maid added. The group gave the kind of hokey laugh usually reserved for the end of poorly produced and overly cliché cartoon programs aimed at children and their parents’ wallets. They left in Delivery Boy’s Suburban Assault Vehicle despite the fact that I said Crushtacean had eaten it just a little while ago. So
there.
Nuklear Man looked down at Atomik Lad. “You know, Sparky, y'oughta head back to the Silo and change.”
“Yeah, I know. Rule #1: Always look your best.” Atomik Lad had learned the most important rule years ago. Rule #1:
All
rules are Rule #1.
“Mainly, I was thinking that without a shirt on, compared to me you might develop some inferiority complex. Or at least a worse one than you must have now from all these years of being around me. But I guess you’ve got a point too.”
“Thanks.”
“An inferior point, but a point just the same.”
“You’re too kind.”
“I know.”
“
Any
way, there should be a spare outfit in the Nukemobile’s trunk. I’ll head back to the beach and change.”
“Whatever happened to what’s-her-name?”
“What’s-her—RACHEL! Oh geez.” His Atomik Field erupted and he shot into the dusty sky. He mused that a post apocalyptic sky would probably look like this. He just hoped he wouldn’t have to find out for sure when he got back to Rachel. Nuklear Man heard the most disgusting sound in the world. He spun around to see, “Angus?” The rest was a blur.
__________
Rachel slipped a T-shirt over her bikini top. She reached into the backseat of the Nukemobile and pulled out her backpack. She lay down on her beach blanket, tied back her shoulder length hair, took a notebook and some pencils from her pack, and started sketching to distract herself from the haunting feeling that she’d been stood up.
It then occurred to Rachel that her life of school, work, reading, art, and general tedium had been interrupted as of late and that she was actually on a date with The Atomik Lad. She had seen and spoken to The Nuklear Man. In person and very casually too. She’d met a score of other hero types, nearly kissed The Atomik Lad, battled some overgrown purple mutant alien guy, and her date, The Atomik Lad, had been dragged from her by the vicious attack of a giant crab from the bottom of the ocean. And how could she forget that she’d nearly kissed The Atomik Lad. Wait. Did she say that one already? Whatever, that’s not the point. “What the hell am I doing?” she asked the ocean. “Why can’t I meet normal boys? This is insane.”
__________
“Ah’ll teach ye to use me Dwarf-a-Powers like that!” Angus roared as he battered the Golden Guardian with head-butts and kicks.
Nuklear Man, despite being thoroughly roughed up, couldn’t help giggling. “Heh, ‘Dwarf-a-Powers.’ What’s next, a Dwarf-a-Kick?”
It was.
“Ouch! My shin!” was not the right thing to say.
“Grrr! YYYYYYEARGHBLBLBLBLE!”
__________
Dr. Ima Genius toiled over a hot supercomputer. She compiled results, cross-referenced conclusions, sent for coffee that arrived cold, cured a form of cancer, and determined one more piece of Crushtacean information. “It’s mating season?”
__________
Norman crashed into the beach some distance from Rachel and a ton of sand exploded into the frothy waves. She ran toward him. “Norman! It is Norman, right? Are you okay?”
His tungsten body was covered with international postage. “Stupid high-rise post office,” he muttered to himself. “I think I’m fine, but you gals look a little green.”
“What?”
“It’s probably from all that spinning around you’re doing. And this plaid sunlight isn’t good for your skin. You should go inside and rest for a while.”
“Um. I think you should just lie down for a bit. Don’t try to, um, anything.”
Atomik Lad landed near them and his crimson field evaporated. Somehow, the sight of Rachel’s bare legs sticking out of the shirt was exponentially sexier than the bikini could have ever been. “Hhhhhhiiii,” he sighed and, in a lucky coincidence of phonetics, Rachel took it as a greeting rather than the lewd sensory overload that it was.
“John, Norman here is hallucinating. I think.”
“Who?”
“John?”
“Where?”
“Don’t tell me you’re hallucinating too.”
“I’m not sure, it’s hard to believe such a vision of beauty could be real.” He ended it with a little snap-point move that would’ve made Nuklear Man proud.
She was taken aback for a moment. “Oh my, aren’t you the smooth one.”
Before he could reply, Norman stood. Or rather, standing was his intention, but rolling his face into the sand was the result. “Mmf mblm.”
“We’ve been eating a lot of sand today. I think we ought to roll him back over. It’s probably hard to breathe through solids.”
Rachel helped heave the Tungsten Titan onto his side. “Do you know what’s wrong with him?”
“Well, his Magnosmash attack magnetically propels him around the world. When Crushtacean dodged that last one, I think he continued to accelerate out of control and got his brain a little jumbled.”
“So he’s just really dizzy?”
“I hope so.”
__________
“Dwarf-a-punt!” Nuklear Man yelled as he dropkicked Angus like a football.
The Surly Scot spun around in midair. “That did it!”
__________
Crushtacean stealthily scuttled from street to street. This involved a lot of citizens screaming, several cars being stepped on, a score dogs barking, and half a dozen seafood restaurant owners repenting.
Come on, my little darling, where are you?
A resounding cry of “Dwarf-a-pult!” bellowed across the city. The mating call wafted after it like perfume.
Ah!
There
you are!
__________
Rachel looked from Mighty Metallic Magno Man’s prone body to Atomik Lad. “So is that crab thing all taken care of?”
“Yeah, Nuke went a little psycho and blasted it back to the Mesozoic Age.”
Crushtacean chose that minute to scuttle over the wreckage Angus had left strewn across the highway behind the dunes. Atomik Lad’s shoulders slumped “Or not. Keep an eye on Norman for me. I’ve got to find Nuke. This crab thing is getting serious.”
“That sounds like a personal problem,” Rachel winked.
Atomik Lad laughed. “Blast, she found out my dirty secret.” He managed a semi-serious demeanor. “I’ll be back soon.” His Atomik Field surrounded him as he once more took to the sky.
Damn thing’s always working when I don’t need it to.
He tried not to dwell on the thought too much. He always suspected his Field had a cruel sense of irony. “Now how do I get Nuke without losing track of Crabby? Wait a second. Didn’t I just come this way?”
__________
Crushtacean scuttled right over and past a comical dust cloud that roamed through the not-so-mean streets of Metroville. Atomik Lad stopped following it for a moment and paused. The cloud was impenetrable to the naked eye, but he could guess what was inside by the sparks and constant stream of curses with a strong Scottish flair that flew out of it. “Poor Nuke. Musta made a little joke,” he said.
The cloud immediately dispersed. Nuklear Man had his foot against Angus’s forehead as the Surly Scot’s arms swung in a wildly fruitless effort to come within striking range. “Hey, Sparky,” Nuklear Man said.
“Looks like you’ve got a little trouble there.”
Angus ceased his limb flailing. “What’d that laddie say?”
“Naw, I’m fine,” Nuklear Man said with a thumbs up. “How’s it goin’ on your end?”
“We’ve got a small problem.” Atomik Lad gestured to Crushtacean as the monster looked under a car for something, seemed frustrated, and tossed the vehicle into a nearby building before moving on to the next car.
“
Small
problem, eh?” Angus muttered through clenched teeth. “Ah never woulda thought the laddie was against me too.”
Nuklear Man surveyed Crushtacean. “Again? Maybe we should use that shampoo they’ve got down at the free clinic. I’ve got a coupon from last time!”
“Where did you—no, why do. Forget it. We’ve got to do something about our Crab friend here. He’s proving to be more than a tiny inconvenience.”
“
That
does it!” Angus roared, toppling Nuklear Man onto his back. “DWARF-A-PULT!!!”
Crushtacean smashed through half a building, causing the other half to collapse due to several factors, among them gravity and a sudden lack of structural integrity.
She’s right around here!
Atomik Lad’s Field repulsed the Iron Scotsman’s attack and sent Angus screaming, “YYYYYYEARGHBLBLBLBLE!” right over Crushtacean and into the urban jungle.
“Oof!” Nuklear Man uttered as Crushtacean stood on his golden-clad tummy. Crushtacean frantically thrashed around tearing down the walls of any building within his reach . He didn’t have the most complicated brain, but he had capacity for enough abstract thought to know it shouldn’t be this hard to find a fellow Crushtacean. He stopped to consider his options.
Atomik Lad viewed these events almost outside himself. “You know, I don’t think it likes the sound of Angus’s Dwarf-a-Pult,” he said.
“Who does?” Nuklear Man said in a strained whisper. He was out of breath from the giant beast standing on his torso.
“Now that I think about it,” Atomik Lad rubbed his chin. “Every time I’ve heard Angus Dwarf-a-pult, Crushtacean here goes a little crazy.”
“I can see why,” Nuklear Man grunted as he tried, rather unsuccessfully, to heave the beast off his chest.
“Maybe we could use this to our advantage,” Atomik Lad said. “We could taunt it with the Dwarf-a-pult until it becomes so cross that it would make a mistake.”
“Couldn’t we just run away?” Nuklear Man said.“Apparently not,” Atomik Lad said.
“Stupid physics.. I’ll bash you good!” He unleashed a “PLAZMAAA BEAM!” against he Crab’s underbelly.
Oh gross! A warm spot! One of those damn Clamzillas was probably around here Gah!
Crushtacean removed himself from Nuklear Man’s chest.
“Beware the power o’ Plazma, vile ancient deep sea creature, for it is of the eternal flames of heaven, whereas you descend from the briny—”
“Nuke!”
“Shush, I’m quipping in a Heroic fashion as per my particular idiom.”
“You can jibba-jabba later.”
“Not in public!”
Atomik Lad held his head and hoped it would be enough to keep his brain from jumping out. “Whatever. Crushtacean is getting away!”
Nuklear Man dusted himself off. “Technically speaking, that’s not altogether a bad thing.”
“C’mon!” Atomik Lad chased after it.
“Aww nuts.” Nuklear Man followed.
Atomik Lad, invincible Field set to maximum , soared after the rampaging Crushtacean with Nuklear Man close behind.
“Where
are
all the fire trucks and everything?” Atomik Lad said. “You’d figure they’d be all over this disaster by now.”
__________
Every fire truck, police car, and ambulance in Metroville was like a fly in the web of Metroville’s clogged roads. At the front of the line of flashing lights and blaring sirens was the Civil Defender. His Infantry Stopper 2000 Assault Cannon was aimed at Fire Chief, the superhero of EMTs and firefighters who was to lead the efforts in Metroville, while he wrote what seemed to be an endless series of tickets. Each ticket, upon completion, was thrown at Fire Chief’s bare feet. The Fire Chief wore a fire fighter’s hat with a feather through it and a stony, patient face with deep set eyes that yearned for a simpler time.
Rip
. “Obstructing Traffic!” Civil Defender tossed the ticket into the pile that now came up to Fire Chief’s knees. Noticing the mess, Civil Defender scribbled out another ticket and tossed it to the pile. “Littering!”
“You already write’um that ticket,” Fire Chief noted.
Civil Defender twitched with anger. “Oh yeah? How does Indecent Exposure sound to you, Chief Running Bare?”
The ticket danced into Fire Chief’s face, tumbled down his exposed chest, over his crossed arms, and joined its brothers in the pile.