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This message #104: Untold Tales of the Next Lair Legion: First Day on the Job was posted by The Hooded Hood plays with the new line-up... because he can. on Sunday, January 5, 2003 at 13:10.
#104: Untold Tales of the Next Lair Legion: First Day on the Job
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“This first meeting of the new Lair Legion will come to order.”
Finny looked up in surprise at Goldeneyed’s sudden outburst.
“Fin Fang Foom, chairman, presiding,” G-Eyed added hastily. “Chairdragon, that is.”
“Put the gavel down,” Hatman advised the new deputy leader, “and back away.”
“This is it?” Pegasus sniffed. “This is what a meeting of the Lair Legion’s like?”
“Well,” encouraged Dancer, “sometime we have crullers.”
“Where did you get the gavel anyway?” Nats asked Goldeneyed.
It was amazing that Bry Kotyk’s blush was visible from beneath his black full-face mask. “Uh, well, when I got made deputy leader, I figured…”
“That it was only a matter of time before our glorious leader got stamped into Makluan paste and you needed to chair a meeting?” Ziles suggested. “Smart thinking.”
Finny growled. Dancer passed him a coffee. He took the time to sip it and looked around at the new line-up of the Lair Legion. To his left sat Hatman and Sorceress, Jay Boaz in his usual casual t-shirt and default baseball cap with the red H on it, Whitney in one of the long silk numbers she’d taken to wearing lately. Finny suspected they were holding hands under the table.
Then there was Dancer, waist-length black hair tied back from her face, quirky little smile on her lips. Today she was wearing the pink leotard. Sometimes it was the powder blue or the sunset purple or the buttercup yellow, but they all served to remind the world just how… fit, dancing made a body. Sarah Shepherdson flashed him another of those killer smiles and Finny rapidly moved on.
CrazySugarFreakBoy! came next, hunched over his reversed chair, leaning forward in anticipation, and munching on the snacks. Dreamcatcher Foxglove’s day-glow orange and fluorescent green costume screamed for attention and he was already getting restless for action.
Beside him was dull thud, a stranger to the Legion Meeting Room with its holoportaits of the founding members (Lisa’s covered over with a cloth for decency’s sake and spiffy’s lamentably defaced by an unknown hand; Enty’s had a habit of periodically exploding). thud was dressed in one of his infinite collection of black t-shirts and a pair of what, if they were washed, darned, patched, and replaced with a different garment all together, might be described as jeans. This particular black t-shirt proclaimed Flint Mitchigan and the Turpulent Weasels.
Next to dull thud was the flying phenomenon Nats, his ITC flight jacket draped over the back of his chair. Finny wondered if Bill Reed knew that he was absently fondling the blackwood stave he used to amplify his telekinetic powers. Or that he had taken to sometimes calling it “my precious”.
The other newcomer sat between Nats and Goldeneyed. Penelope Christopoulos was attending today in a semi-classical robe over Calvin Kline designer jeans that were as far removed from what dull thud was wearing as Liv Tyler was from Neanderthal Man. Her shoulder-length hair was held back by a silver fillet. Pegasus was looking at Foom with an expression of mild disappointment at the proceedings so far.
Goldeneyed wasn’t. He sat straight in his chair, notepad at the ready, pencils poised to take down whatever important decisions the Legion made today. He was taking his new role very seriously, and Finny was beginning to feel somewhat harassed.
Ziles, the last of the people round the table, was waiting for G-Eyed to notice that she’d managed to swipe all the lead out of his pencils. The Xnylonian exile was dressed in one of her customary form-fitting silver body suits. It was impossible for her to conceal all the gadgets she did inside that low-zipped outfit, yet she did. There would be plenty of volunteers willing to try and find out how.
His mental checklist completed, the humanoid-sized dragon leaned forward to begin the meeting.
“Is that it, then?” dull thud asked. “Can we go now?”
“No,” Hatman scowled. “We haven’t even started. And then there’s your induction.”
Thuddy perked up a bit. “Lisa?” he asked. “I heard that she…”
“That was the old Legion,” Finny put in quickly. “And even then it never happened. And then we phased it out.”
“I must have missed that vote,” complained CrazySugarFreakBoy!
dull thud smiled weakly. “Ah. Well, in any case, I’m afraid I have to decline your very kind offer to join the Lair Legion, on the grounds that I want to have a life expectancy longer than a mayfly.”
~~They didn’t invite you to join~~ Cressida the wonder-worm, the psionic tapeworm in thud’s stomach noted telepathically. ~~They invited me.~~
“Er, well yes, technically that’s right,” Nats admitted as thud glared at him. “We thought… you know, she’s keen, and we need more female members, and…”
“Not that we’re into tokenism with females,” glared Sorceress coldly.
“No, oh no, not tokenism at all no, sir, er ma’am,” Nats hurriedly corrected himself.
“It’s just that you have to be here for Cressida to be here,” Hatman explained to the sour looking Scotsman. “Sorry.”
~~Given the uncountable amounts of urine-smelling music dives he drags me into, before attempting to drown me in cheap alcohol, him bringing me along to meetings is the least he can do.~~ Cressida noted.
“I suppose we can find a use for him,” Pegasus sniffed. “In case Flapjack’s too busy to fetch something, maybe.”
Goldeneyed looked longingly at the discarded gavel and wondered if he could get to bang it again for some order before being disarmed.
“I have a question,” Ziles piped up. “About dull thud.”
“Who’s not a member, apparently,” thud muttered, biting down on a chocolate chip cookie.
“What’s with the italics? And the lack of capitals?”
“I’d been wondering that too,” Sorceress admitted. “It seems so… spiffy.”
“What, first you only want me for my tapeworm and now you want to strip me of my cultural heritage?” scowled thuddy.
“No, no,” Finny intervened. “We respect your, um, your ethnicity, and are equal opportunities superheroes regardless of gender, sexuality, race, creed, or choice of poor capitalisation. Really.”
“Can we get on yet?” Pegasus demanded. “In the Scourge we would have determined half a dozen minor nations for conquest by now.”
“We do things a little bit differently in the Legion,” Dancer explained kindly. “A sort of consensus by bickering.”
“And none of us have taken over a country for years now,” CSFB! noted. “Not since spiffy blew up France, I think.”
“The good old days,” sighed Finny.
“Well I have business to raise,” Pegasus persisted. “I’ve assembled a list of known enemies that I think it would be prudent for us to eliminate before they have more chance to cause trouble. I think we should schedule perhaps three executions a week before…”
“Hold it,” G-Eyed interrupted. “We’re not in the business of, er, pre-emptive assassinations.”
“The Lair Legion is a force for good,” Hatman insisted.
“Yeah,” agreed CSFB!. “We’re not about to go all Squadron Supreme/Kingdom Come. Again.”
“Exterminating public menaces is being a force for good,” Pegasus insisted.
“Let me see that list,” Nats frowned. “Hmm… so this week we take down HERPES, the Word, and Akiko Masamune, and then next week it’s the Supreme Interference, B.A.L.D., and Camellia of the Fey…”
“And the week after it’s Peter van Doom again and Britany Spears,” Dancer noted. “Do-able.”
“We could slot in Dirth Vortex and Ben Affleck if we worked weekends,” Pegasus added hopefully.
“It’s tempting,” Finny admitted, “but the LL just doesn’t work that way. We have a charter.”
“Somewhere,” Ziles added honestly.
“The Legion doesn’t like being proactive,” Dancer warned Pegasus. “When I joined I wanted them to sponsor this massive Feed the World programme, and a prison reform strategy, and all kinds of stuff.”
“We did make some very substantial charity donations,” Hatman argued.
“And some of us had to go on your telethon,” Nats recalled with a shudder.
“And my mom offered to do a sponsored event,” CSFB! added with a wide grin. “But you turned that down.”
“And the plan to bring offenders into our ranks to reform them…” Finny scowled. “I don’t think we’re quite ready to rehabilitate Messenger like that.”
“Shame,” pouted Dancer.
“Could we add a few musicians to that list of Pegasus’?” dull thud asked interestedly. “Well, so-called musicians.”
Finny slammed his hands down on the table. “We are not. Having. An assassination. List.” He explained very carefully. “No matter how they did it in the Scourge,” he added as he saw Pegasus about to protest.
“And they had better pastries,” Pegasus added sullenly.
~~If you could find something that rhymes with croissants I’ll see what I can do~~ Cressida offered helpfully. Her transmutative powers worked only to alter objects that rhymed.
“How long is this meeting going to go on for?” dull thud asked. “Only it’s Flint Mitchigan and the Black Pudding Stompers at the Fatal Toilet tonight, and I said I’d be there in case Big Huey does what he’s famous for in the sound system again.”
“We haven’t even started yet!” shouted Goldeneyed, diving for the gavel.
“Hold it together, man,” Hatman advised him, laying a restraining hand on the miniature hammer. “With great power comes great responsibility.”
“Amen!” murmured CrazySugarFreakBoy! in religious tones.
And the meeting continued.
***
“Ah. Sorry about that.” Al B. Harper used the handily-positioned fire extinguisher to put out the fire on his now-discarded tweed jacket. “I was in the middle of a little ultraphasic molecule-shunting experiment when you sent the car for me and I just shoved it in my pocket for later and forgot about it. The transquantum superstrings must have interacted with the lint and caused a…”
The Lair Legion’s new scientific advisor caught the expression of Amber St Clare’s face and fell silent.
“I told you we should have head hunted Miss Framlicker,” legal advisor Laurie (Lisette) Leyton muttered to engineer Amy Racecar.
“As I was saying,” Amber went on, “it is good to have such a distinguished scientist on the LL support team, so that we can defuse all those dangerous gadgets that NTU-150 and Zebulon left lying around the workshop spaces.”
“And the kitchens,” added Amy.
“And the bathrooms,” shuddered Laurie. It would be a long time before anybody tried using Enty’s eco-vacuum lavatory again, for example. Unless the Legion were in a very desperate struggle and were willing to break the Geneva Convention.
“Right,” nodded Al nervously. “It’s a great honour.” He surreptitiously stamped out the smouldering spots on the carpet. “I look forward to working with you all…”
The women glared back at him in welcome.
Flapjack snickered. “Aw, don’t mind the ice-queens. It’ll be good to have another guy around the place while the LL’s out dyin’ spectacularly.”
“You’re claiming to be male?” Amy Racecar asked with a puzzled frown.
“I could prove it if you like, sweetheart. Just come here and oooof!”
“And this is Flapjack,” Lisette explained helpfully, removing her elbow from the major domo’s stomach. “And these are his kidneys.”
“Er,” said Al B. He was beginning to see why the departed NTU-150 had chosen to wear full body-armour.
“Now a few basic questions,” Amber told the scientist. “Standard, routine stuff. Are you in the habit of converting household implements into wacky gadgets that tend to explode when somebody breathes upon them?”
“No,” Al told them. All of his wacky exploding gadgets used very expensive specialised components.
“Are you a lying, cheating, no-good slime of a male that deserves to be run over by a steam roller while your genitals are attached to the national power grid?”
Al B. closed his legs while Flapjack winced in sympathy.
“No. Definitely not,” he assured them.
“Are you sure?” Laurie pressed. “Because that’s not what Miss Framlicker says in your reference.”
“Moving on,” Amber continued, “What does the B in Al B. Harper stand for?”
“That’s a secret the world is not yet ready to know,” Al explained cautiously.
And so it went.
***
“I have a question,” Dancer ventured. “I thought we were going to recruit De Brown Streak? After all, he came through for us in the recent troubles.”
Hatman shuffled uncomfortably. “Whit and I asked him. He wasn’t interested.”
“Well, not in joining the LL,” Sorceress clarified with a little secret smile.
“And didn’t we also consider Falcon?” Nats recalled.
“He’s tied up with SPUD,” G-Eyed reported. Then, realising he was using jargon in front of newbies, he added, “Er, that’s the Super-menace Principal Undercover…”
“I know,” Pegasus answered shortly. “I fought them. Dan Drury’s espionage boy scouts, plus the usual rogue enclave of dirty wetworkers. Your files on them are woefully incomplete.”
“Yes, them,” Bry tried to recover. “Well anyway, he’s their major metahuman field operative now, so…”
“What’s with all this metahuman bit?” Nats snorted. “Back before Technopolis we always used to be superheroes.”
“We are superheroes!” grinned CSFB! “And maybe metahumans. And I think I might be becoming a science hero too.”
“We’re all very glad that Dream was willing to give up active participation in the Goofball Gauntlet and take his place back here with us,” said Finny neutrally.
“They’re not the GG anymore, Foomy,” CSFB! explained earnestly. “See, they reasoned that…”
“The meeting?” G-Eyed prompted desperately. “Hey, where’s the lead from my pencils gone?”
“I miss Donar,” admitted Dancer. “And Exy too of course, and I’m sure he and Val will have some amazing adventures helping out her people in the Mythlands…”
Nats noticed how Pegasus stiffened at the mention of her former homeland, and noted it down to think about later.
“…but Donar, well he just had this way of… filling a room, if you know what I mean,” Dancer concluded.
“Yes,” agreed Ziles, Sorceress, and Pegasus. And Cressida.
“Well being Acting King of Ausgard is bound to bite into his time a little bit,” CSFB! considered carefully. “And we can maybe all go visit, like we did before.”
“Or not,” shuddered Hatman.
“It’s about time for another world tour anyway,” Dream continued happily.
“Or not,” Hatman repeated. “We’d never drag Visionary back onto a bus again anyway.”
Finny thought back wistfully to the times when Vizh had had to chair these committee meetings. Or Jarvis. He presumed Lisa would have had to hold them during her tenure as leader of the LL too but now he thought about it he couldn’t remember any such events. Or maybe he’d blocked them.
“We have Dark Knight on call in case of emergencies,” the Makluan advised the team, “and we’re still holding a place for Trickshot, when and if he gets back from his mysterious voyage of self-discovery and mass destruction.”
“I hope he brings presents,” Ziles noted hopefully.
“But not underwear,” Sorceress qualified wisely.
“Or anything requiring taste,” added dull thud automatically.
“Hey, you can’t diss senior members,” G-Eyed protested, outraged.
thuddy leaned back in his chair and smirked. “Sure I can,” he argued. “Cressida’s the member, not me. I can do whatever I like.”
“Why you little…”
“I think what we need is a little bit of team-building,” Dancer suggested hastily. “You know, some time together, doing something fun.”
“Wasn’t that the Lisa induction?” Sorceress recalled.
“No, I mean all together.” Dancer explained.
“Wasn’t that the Lisa induction?” Sorceress repeated.
“I know what Dancer means,” CSFB! grinned. “Like in New Teen Titans limited series where they all go on a camping trip and swap origin stories and stuff. That kind of thing.”
“Hmm…” Nats considered. “Sounds okay. Will there be wieners?”
There was a horrible silence.
“I really miss Trickshot,” CSFB! eventually admitted. “When’s he due back?”
Sorceress stirred restlessly. “Not to pour cold water on a quite good idea, but this is the weekend that Hat and I are supposed to be opening up Darkness Mansion as a guest house. We already have some bookings, er, sort of.”
“Yes,” Hatman agreed, trying to look positive, “and some of them may be humans.”
“I’m sure that grandmother was just trying to be helpful in referring possible lodgers to us,” Sorceress assured him. “You know how fond of you she is.”
“Yes,” swallowed Hatman.
“Don’t worry,” Finny assured the capped crusader. “I’m sure we’ll manage without the two of you if you have important life stuff to do. You can’t neglect important life stuff/”
Ziles raised one eyebrow at the Makluan.
“Bry can take the rest of the team on some kind of manoeuvres,” the dragon pressed swiftly on. “I’ll stay here and deal with the SPUD security checks on the new members, the press updates, the HQ repairs and upgrades…”
“Oh no,” Dancer objected. “You can’t get away that easily, Finster. You have to be there establishing relationships with us all, gaining our confidence and learning how to transform us into a wall oiled machine. And stuff.”
“But I have to…”
“G-Eyed can take care of all that other work.”
“I can?” Bry started. “Er, I can. Yes. Of course. Leave it to me, Finny. Once I find some more pencils.”
“I have plans for this weekend,” dull thud objected as the field trip was sketched out.
~~You can drink yourself insensible and pass out next weekend~~ Cressida assured him.
“Where shall we conduct these training exercises?” Pegasus demanded, planning what weaponry she might need to pack.
Ziles smiled enthusiastically. “I think I know just the place.”
***
Dan Drury growled and chomped down harder on his cigar butt. He’d just about managed to get used to HALLIE, the holographic representation of an artificial intelligence resident in the lair Legion’s computers. Now HALLIE was semi-retired, and EDWIN had taken her place.
“Right,” he told the shimmering butler-shaped AI that hung in midair on his command deck about the SPUD helicarrier. “We got a few questions about this new LL lineup you’re suggestin’.”
“Excuse me, sir,” EDWIN corrected him, “but the line-up is decided. We are merely informing you of the team’s composition out of professional courtesy. The Superhuman Powers Act of 1941, as amended in 1945 and 1963, and supplemented by the 1998 Waltz Accords guarantees…”
“Yeah, yeah, tell it to the legal department, Jeeves,” Drury scowled. He looked down at the information on his screen and remembered a time when he used to get given paperwork.
“Excuse me again, sir,” EDWIN responded, “but my nomenclature is EDWIN, not Jeeves. I am the Electronic Device With Infinite Notation, the next generation of so-called HALLIE technology. Jeeves was a fictional butler in the writings of the late P.G. Wodehouse, and his skills were considerably less refined than my own superior capabilities. Then again, he was meant to be a human being.”
Dan Drury glared at the hologram. “So you’re wantin’ security clearance for one indy music roadie with a stomach parasite, an’ a former international terrorist whose presidential pardon I personally opposed?”
“More precisely, sir, we are seeking security clearance for the parasite, who has an accompanying human. Well, mostly human.”
“I gotta admit, the parasite’s got better references,” the SPUD director noted. It wasn’t every day that Knifey phoned him up to give a personal commendation, but Drury knew to take the sentient blade seriously when he did. “But Pegasus…?”
“The Lair Legion has conducted most assiduous research, Colonel Drury. As far as they can determine the Pegasus was exiled some time ago from the adjacent dimension known as the Mythlands, in the region devoted to Graeco-Roman belief forms. She appeared intermittently throughout history before electing to settle in the twentieth century. She joined the terrorist group known as the Scourge mainly for the challenge of combat and adventure, but there is no record of her ever directly committing a major crime such as murder, although she has killed in self-defence and beyond Earth’s jurisdiction.”
Drury ignored the file presented by the smug holo-butler and relied on his briefing from Natalia Romanza, “And this stuff about being an agent of some outfit called the Constellation?”
“The Lair Legion charter guarantees anonymity into the private affairs of its members, sir.”
“Another Lisa clause,” Drury breathed. “And she sure knew her affairs.”
“The Legion is even unaware of the true identities of some of its members, such as the Probability Dancer.”
“Yeah, I heard that. Well, I got the President an’ the UN chewin’ off my ear about giving your guys a break. I guess the Technopolis stuff and the Tenth Planet incident bought ‘em a few brownie points. Awright, I’ll spring for the clearances. But you tell that dragon-boss of yours that if Peggy sets one hoof outta line I’ll expect the Legion to be first in line to take her down. Capeesh?”
“Your colloquialisms are most expressive, Colonel Drury.”
***
It was raining in Hell’s Bathroom and Lisette and Goldeneyed nearly missed the little alleyway that led down to Xander the Improbable’s plumbing and watch repair shop. They raced into the building, sending the poorly-attacked bell over the door pinging away where it knocked free a stick holding up a rickety shelf of crockery, which in turn crashed down onto a see-saw that span an apostle teaspoon high in the air so that it landed on the lever that activated an old-fashioned wind-up gramophone. The scratchy 1922 rendition of Here Comes the Bride alerted the people in the backroom that visitors had arrived.
“Bry? Laurie?” Rick Foreman puzzled as he peered through the streamers in the doorway to the back office. “What are you doing here?”
“You didn’t think we were just going to let you and Val slip off to the Mythlands without saying goodbye, did you, cuz?” G-Eyed chided.
“We didn’t want to make a fuss,” Valeria of Carfax explained. “You see, since they got shifted back out of the Dreary Dimension my people have needed leadership and protection, and they invited Dread Derek to help them. And… and me.”
“Yes, we heard from Nats that you’d contracted ITC to shift the whole of your island to the Mythlands,” Lisette revealed. “And that Xander was sending you off there tonight while we were all busy with the new LL and stuff. But we thought you deserved a proper send-off.”
“With presents,” grinned G-Eyed. “Six bags of Bulbasaur-Chow, a PS2 and X-Box, a bunch of DVDs in case you feel the urge to watch stuff blowing up, and a box of cookies with extra double choc chip.”
“Then I’m glad you made it,” Exile grinned back.
Valeria politely added the cookies to the seven cases of other cookies that Rick had already packed. Laurie took the moment to have a private word with the otherdimensional princess. “You know, I’m really going to miss you, kid. Who’s going to stop me becoming a bitch supreme now?”
Valeria smiled mistily at her old friend. “I guess you’ll just have to start admitting how big your heart is, Laurie. And not being afraid to let people into it.” She glanced across at where Bry and Rick were shaking hands and patting each other’s backs. “Especially him. You need to tell him about his son. He deserves to know. You can’t deceive him forever.”
“One day, maybe,” Laurie swallowed. “And what about you. How long before you give up the good gal stuff and jump Exy’s bones, huh?”
Valeria allowed herself a little secret smile. “One day, maybe,” she answered. “There’s a very traditional ending to that story where a gallant hero rescues an enslaved princess, and I’m starting to think that it might just come true.”
“The bit where Rick finds out that you don’t have to obey his commands any more, like ‘Hey, stop that, get offa me, what are you doing with my pants?’” Lisette suggested.
“The bit where we live happily ever after,” Valeria answered.
Xander the Improbable just watched with a far-off look in his eyes until it was time for them to go.
***
The moon rose over the ocean, painting the sea in silver and grey. A frosty sky made the stars twinkle with romantic promise. Jay Boaz put his arm around Whitney Darkness’ shoulders and pulled her close to him, not for warmth but simply because he could.
“Well,” he said. “Here we are.”
“Here we are,” she agreed, leaning on the porch in front of the ramshackle old Darkness House where she had grown up with her terrible witch grandmother. “Ready for a new step.”
“I’ll fix it in the morning when I unpack my carpenter’s cap,” Hatman promised absently., looking at the rotting woodwork, “Oh, I see what you mean. Yes. New for us. Keeping a boarding house.”
The Sorceress smiled up fondly at her big, straightforward man. “Any regrets?” she wondered. “Sorry that you’re not going with the LL on their camping trip?” She glanced out to sea. “They’ll almost be there by now.”
“A few, maybe,” Jay admitted, “but not enough to keep me from being here with you.” He thought about that a bit more, and added. “Alone with you.”
Whitney felt his hands slide lower down the silken nightgown and didn’t mind one bit. Then she broke away. “Lights, Jay! There’s a car coming.”
Suddenly Hatman was all business. “I thought the first guests weren’t arriving till Monday? We’re not ready yet.”
“They could just be passers-by.”
“Passers-by out here? Get a robe on, Whit. I’ll see what they want.”
The battered Ford ground to a halt on the gravel in front of the looming mansion. A flustered-looking young man leaned through the driver’s window. “Hi. Is this a hotel?”
“We have some rooms to let,” Jay admitted. “But we’re just opening.”
A young girl with long curly black hair spilled out of the passenger door. “Great, because we need a place for the night. Please.”
“Sure. I guess we can set something up,” Hatman agreed, leading them into the hallway. He opened the guest book and asked, “What names, please?”
The couple exchanged glances. “Smith,” the young man answered. “Jones,” the girl said.
The young man put an arm around her shoulder and smoothed his tousled red-brown hair. “Smith-Jones, that is. Yes. Mr and Mrs Smith-Jones,” he explained, badly. “Randy and Misty Smith-Jones.”
***
And just then Ziles’ spaceship made a delicate landing on soft shining dust beneath the light of a full Earth. The beauty of the moment was somewhat marred by the sonic boom of Aunt Sally, Nats’ bizarre interdimensional cycle, ripping back into N-space and screeching to a halt beside the sleek silver cruiser.
“Urh!” said dull thud, prizing his fingers off Aunt Sally’s roll-bar.
“You’re welcome,” Nats told him. “Welcome to the moon.”
CSFB, Dancer, Foom, and Pegasus followed Ziles from her craft. It was already cloaking itself to blend into the bizarre lunar landscape. “So it’s true,” Shep said. “There is an area of the moon that has a pocket of breathable air!”
“The Turquoise Area,” Finny explained. “Built by the Skree thousands of years back around some abandoned Celestian technology. These ruins have never been properly explored.”
“Which is what makes this a perfect field trip,” Ziles added happily. The venue had been her suggestion, after all, and it was too long since she’s had a chance to explore anything really unusual.
“It has a certain ruined grandeur,” Pegasus owned.
“And we couldn’t have just done the Grand Canyon or Niagra Falls, complained Nats. “Oh no.”
“Of course not,” CSFB! enthused. “We’re heroes. We have to go on trips to far-our places with bizarre Kirby buildings. Heck, it’s only a matter of time before we get attacked by some nefarious villain intent on using these ruins for his own evil purposes.”
“These ruins scan as completely deserted, Dream,” Ziles assured her multi-hued comrade. “We’re just here to camp out and do a little exploring, that’s all.”
And the hidden minions of the villain intent on using the ruins for his own evil purposes watched intently and reported back to their master for further instructions.
Next time: The Lair Legion’s lunar legacy! The secret villain revealed, and joined by many other secret villains in a secret and villainous plot. G-Eyed vs paperwork (and Herbert P. Garrick)! Al B.’s first day on the job! More on Mr and Mrs Smith-Jones and the world of trouble they’ve got two hours behind them. And the secret of the Constellation. It’s all in Untold Tales of the Moonstruck Lair Legion, due whenever it’s written.
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