The Story
Chapter 5
"Why Can’t I Get this Image Out of my Mind?!?!?"
Joe maneuvered the Pogo Plane to an easy landing a few yards from the battlesite before turning to face his friends.
“Okay,” he said, his lecturing face sternly fixed. “We’ll wait for the X-Men to show up, we’ll watch them kick much ass, and then we’ll go meet them. We will NOT under ANY CIRCUMSTANCES join the battle at hand. Is that understood?”
“Yes, Joe,” droned Charles and Kyle.
“We aren’t equipped to handle supervillains, even if we did win a few battles before. Don’t you guys run off getting yourselves killed, okay?”
“Yes, Joe,” droned Charles and Kyle.
“Good. Now, let’s play a little game. Charles, you start by suggesting something interesting that I can picture in my head. The object is to give me a visual that I CANNOT shake, no matter what other disturbing pictures might be in my head right now. Got it?”
“Did you walk in on the Thing taking a shower?” asked Kyle.
“None of your goddammed business!” snapped Joe. He opened his mouth as if to continue his rant, but the ground itself chose that moment to sweep the young friends from their Pogo Plane, depositing themselves at the feet of (sound-off alphabetically) Avalanche, the Blob, Mastermind (his daughter, not him- he died of the Legacy Virus), Phantazia, Pyro, and the Toad. Kyle was the first to scrub the dirt from his eyes.
“Oh damn,” he said.
* * *
“Perfect!” cackled the Toad, running his dirty little fingers through Kyle’s hair. “Hostages! When those X-Clowns show up, they’ll have to do whatever we want! Hee-hee! Hoo-hoo! God, this stuff kills me!”
“An’ whul were waitin’, wekin do all sortsa sicko things to em, right, boss?” asked the mutant lump of lard known as the Blob.
“Ey now, Blob,” interrupted Pyro’s Australian accent, “Ain’t you got any compassion for these folks? They just ‘appened along at the wrong time, s’trewth. Aren’t you the least bit moved by their plight?”
Shaking his head, the morbidly obese supervillain solemnly intoned, “Nothing moves the Blob.”
“I knew he was going to say that,” whispered Joe.
“Let me toy with them, Blob,” said the coldly beautiful Martinique Jason. “My psychic powers will make them live their worst fears. Now then, which of them shall I turn telepathically inside-out first?”
Joe raised his hand in the air, shaking it furiously. “Ooooh! Me first! Me! Me! Oooh! Telepathically scan me!”
“Very well,” said the new Mastermind. “I’ll just--- ah, I see you’ve defended your subconscious mind quite nicely. No matter- I can still pull your greatest fears from your surface thoughts. What’s been on your mind lately, Joe?” Mastermind closed her eyes, and threw her mental self completely into Joe’s most recent thoughts. Seconds later, she was on the ground, weeping. “Dear Lord! What the hell’s the matter with you, boy?” she cried, twitching and shrieking.
“What? What is it?” asked the Toad, clamoring toward her.
“You want to know what it is? You want to know what it is? I’ll show you!” Mastermind cried out once more, then forced the disturbing thought from her mind, channeling it through her illusion powers and into the minds of her teammates. Five evil mutants were suddenly overcome by the most terrifyingly real depiction of a nude Ben Grimm they had ever seen.
“Now!” cried Joe, leaping to his feet. “Hit ‘em while they’re distracted!” So as he said, he did. With a backhand from his Wonder Glove, Joe sent Mastermind flying across the park. His intention was to eliminate the most dangerous of their number first. In a way, he succeeded. Still, the removal of Mastermind enabled the other members of the Brotherhood to (grudgingly) reclaim their thoughts. The battle began in earnest.
* * *
The Toad was the first to regain his bearings, and his mutant-powered legs sent him flying toward Kyle, who managed only to throw his arms in front of his face and cry out, “Please don’t hurt me!”
“Don’t worry No Powers Boy!” cried Joe. With the agility borne of absolute luck, Joe threw his left (Wonder-Gloved) hand in front of Kyle, snagging the front of the Toad’s tunic. Dangling from a hand that could crush two feet of steel, the Toad could do little more than whine. Still, there wasn’t much Joe could do back to the Toad. “Phantazia’s building up her power reserves, Kyle- go hit her or something!” Kyle slowly moved to do as Joe suggested.
Meanwhile, Charles had already picked out his dancing partner. Before Pyro could fully recover from the world’s grossest psychic attack, Charles was upon him. Pyro regained his composure just as Charles jerked loose the two hoses that power Pyro’s flame throwers. “Not so cool without your fire-jets, are you, Not-so-cool-Boy?” Charles slugged the mutant master of flame in the face.
“So hot, he’s cool,” cried Chuck, bashing Pyro again with his two intertwined fists.
“So cool, he’s hot,” shouted Charles, kicking Pyro in the face.
“Pyro pops up hot, hot, hot!” With the delivery of that exit line, Charles bodyslammed the supervillain, then looked around to see whom to bash next. He never got that far.
“Silly fool!” Phantazia spat. “My mutant powers will short-circuit your own superhuman abilities, leaving you nothing but a quivering pile of jelly!”
“You can’t hurt me! I’m No Powers Boy!” Kyle roared, smacking Phantazia silly. He continued to roar with rage long after Phantazia lay senseless on the ground, nothing more than a quivering pile of jelly (grape).
“Hey, Avalanche!” Joe shouted. “Scotta Stoh Potatto Soo!” Joe wasn’t just babbling nonsense. Long ago, Joe’s Greek cousin Jon taught Joe one single phrase in Avalanche’s native language. Roughly translated, it meant, “I shit on your father’s head.” All things considered, it wasn’t much of an insult, but it was enough to make Dominic Petros angry. He launched a wave of earth at Joe. The moment it was in motion, though, Joe launched his own projectile at Avalanche. The Toad struck Avalanche’s earth ramp, and fell to the ground, unconscious. Joe smirked, and was then suddenly jerked off his feet.
“Youse guys is annoyin’ me,” said the Blob, breathing heavily through his mouth. He held Charles off the ground with one meaty fist, Joe with the other. I’m gonna crush da life outta ya.” Kyle ran to assist his friends, but No Powers Boy’s punches meant nothing against the superhuman bulk of the Blob.
Clawing at the Blob’s hand with both of his own, Charles managed to free his mouth. “Christ, Blob! Don’t you EVER bathe? I can’t even breathe through all this B.O. And the heat- dear God don’t get me started on that!”
“Tcklm,” said Joe, waving frantically at Kyle.
“Tcklm?” asked Kyle.
“Tckl. M,” Joe shouted, pointing at the Blob.
“Tickle him?”
“Yh! Tcklm!” So saying, Joe kicked off one of his sneakers, and began poking his foot into the Blob’s tummy.
“Hee-hee,” said the Blob. “You stop that.” Joe continued to poke, aided by Kyle’s fingers. “Hee-hee. Hee. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA.” The Blob began to laugh. He loosened his grip on Joe and Charles, who pushed themselves free. “HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” The Blob began to laugh harder and harder, his enormous bulk vibrating with the effort. Soon, tidal waves of pure flab began to build in the Blob’s gut, bouncing back and forth along his body until they began to crest near his head. With one last great “HA!”, the Blob collapsed, pummeled to the ground by his own sweaty, greasy lumps of fat. Joe high-fived Charles and Kyle as he put back on his shoe. “We did it, guys!” In point of fact, they did not do it. Charles, Kyle, and Joe were covered seconds later by a few metric tons of earth.
* * *
As they broke the surface, Kyle, Charles, and Joe each took in deep breaths of air. Kitty Pryde turned to them, her face looking haggard. “I don’t often take that many passengers. Are you guys alright?” All three men nodded their assent. Kyle pointed towards a second wave of earth, and Shadowcat dropped the four of them back out of phase.
Once the wave swept once more harmlessly by, Joe began to gyrate his hips and arms, taunting Avalanche all the while. “Neh-neh-neh-neh neh-neh neh-neh Can’tTouchThis! Neh-neh-neh-neh neh-neh neh-neh Can’tTouchThis! Neh-neh-neh-neh neh-neh neh-neh Can’tTouchThis!”
“Stop that,” said Kitty.
“You don’t like the Hammer?” Joe asked, looking a little hurt.
“Just stop, alright?”
“Okay,” said Joe, dejected. He stared at his shoes for a second, feigning depression. When he looked back up, Avalanche lay unconscious at the feet of (sound-off alphabetically) Colossus, Gambit, Marrow, Nightcrawler, Rogue, Storm, and Wolverine. Charles’ jaw fell to the ground.
“Not bad for a buncha rookies, eh, Storm?”
“Indeed, Wolverine. These young men seem to have handled themselves quite well.”
“Dude, I am SO taking that,” said Joe. While Kyle and Charles shook the hands of each X-Man in turn, Joe dismantled Pyro’s flame-thrower. I can hook it up in a minute, thought Joe. First- the important after-battle details.
“Can I bum a smoke?” Joe (whose nicotine levels now ran dangerously low) asked Gambit.
“Sure,” said the Cajun, flipping Joe a cigarette and pulling out one of his own. Both men reached for their lighters, striking a flame simultaneously. Both men simultaneously realized what a bad idea it was. The flame from each lighter twisted itself into the shape of a tiny, fiery imp. The imps scurried together into a large hawk, the hawk into a panther, the panther into a man, and the man into a wall of flame separating the heroes from the Brotherhood of Evil Mutants. When the wall of flame vanished seconds later, the villains were gone.
“They’re not gone!” yelled Joe. “It’s Mastermind! She’s just hiding them. They’re walking away! They’re- aw, fuck it- I don’t care.”
“Gentlemen,” said Nightcrawler, “It was good fighting alongside you. But now, we must return to our- er, secret headquarters.”
“1407 Graymalkin Lane,” Joe rattled off (for the second time).
“Wait!” shouted Charles. “You have to take us with you! I need a lot of training!”
“Charles,” Joe cautioned. “We need to be getting on our way- finding a way back home, remember?”
“Look, this is a once-in-a-lifetime chance. Screw going back to Best Buy, I’m training with the X-Men.”
“It is our policy,” interrupted Storm, “Only to aid young mutants. You boys aren’t mutants, are you?”
Charles’ eyes pleaded with Joe.
“Yes,” Joe sighed, turning on his hypno-jacket.
“We’re the, um, Supercools,” Joe continued. “We pledged our lives to fighting injustice and oh yeah! Protecting a world that hates and fears us.” The X-Men nodded approvingly. “I am, uh, the ‘Scavenger!’ I use all these cool weapons that I, er, found in my grandmother’s attic. Charles there is ‘Mr. Negativity.’” Charles winced at the code name he was suddenly given. His control over the Negative Zone is DEFINITELY a mutant power. He’s been doing it since he was, like, four or something. I swear to God. Oh, and this is Kyle. We call him No Powers Boy!”
“He does not have any mutant powers?” Storm asked suspiciously.
“No! I mean, he’s got lots of them. Did you see the way he took out Phantazia? Let’s see he’s got… the proportional strength and agility of a man. And um,” Joe fumbled for a moment. Charles took over the narrative.
“And he can shrink himself down to the size of a human while retaining his full human strength!”
“Plus, I can do this,” said Kyle, attempting to twist his arms around themselves. “No I can’t,” he admitted.
“I see,” said Storm. “Well, I suppose we should assist you then. Would you like to accompany us back to our jet?”
“Yeah!” said Charles.
“Sure,” shrugged Kyle.
“I guess,” pouted Joe.
“Who’s talking to you, Not A Mutant Boy?” coughed Wolverine. “Ain’t no room on the jet for someone who gets his powers from Grandma’s attic.”
“But that’s reverse discrimination!” shouted Joe. “By eliminating me from your roster for the same reasons that you are cast out of society, you’re perpetuating the cycle of hatred and unreasoned bigotry that has left your people shunned and mistrusted for so long. Only when you fail to recognize your mutancy as a distinction will the peoples of the world be able to live again in harmony. Can’t you understand that?”
“Shut up, Not A Mutant Boy,” said Kyle.
“Yeah, Not A Mutant Boy.”
“Fine!” Joe shouted. “I didn’t want to hang out with you guys any way. I’m just going to take my Pogo Plane and go home. Have fun with your new COOL friends, guys. I’ll be spending MY time trying to get us out of this stinkin’ dimension.” Joe stormed off towards the Pogo Plane, fumbling with his newly-acquired flame thrower. Charles and Kyle watched, both wanting to speak, but both wanting desperately to see the X-Mansion.
“He’ll be back,” said the newly-christened Mr. Negativity. “He can’t just leave us.”
“Yeah,” said Kyle. “I’m sure we’ll see him again.”
Interlude
"Justice is Served"
“I shwear! I shwear its true- I wazzh a membuh * hic * of the Frightful Four!” The Terrifying Mitch was very, very drunk.
He was sitting somewhere in New York, at a place called The Bar With No Name. His companions at the table were known (to what degree they were known at all) as the Red Bee*, the Jester*, El Matador*, and Humbug*. (*AUTHOR’S NOTE- I SWEAR I didn’t make these names up.)
“Yeah, man, I heard they were hiring,” the Jester said.
“But Jesus- the Terrifying Mitch?” asked El Matador. “I mean, I used to think ‘El Matador’ was bad- but ‘The Terrifying Mitch?’”
“Hey, shut up you guys!” moaned the Terrifying Mitch.
“He- he- he is right, you you you know,” stuttered Humbug. “You you you d-do need a new code name.”
“Okeydokey. What about… Scourge!”
“Nah, man- that ain’t cool,” said the Red Bee. “Scourge is that white-jacketed skull-faced dude with the guns who shoots bad guys and yells ‘Justice is Served!’”
Trembling and pointing, the Terrifying Mitch repeated his last statement. “Scourge!” He had just enough time to throw himself under the table before a white-jacketed, skull-faced dude with gun shot the Red Bee, the Jester, El Matador, and Humbug, shouting, “Justice is Served!” The Scourge of the Underworld turned on his heel and walked from the Bar with No Name. The Terrifying Mitch picked himself up, looking down at the bodies of his former drinking buddies. Suddenly, an idea crept into the Terrifying Mitch’s alcohol-addled brain.
“A new code-name, huh? What about… the Scavenger!”
The Scavenger-Formerly-Known-As-The-Terrifying-Mitch began picking bits and pieces of the villains’ costumes and weaponry out of the four pools of blood that were beginning to form.
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Chapter 6
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