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Tie-In To Untold Tales Of The Lair Legion: Take It To The Rush Hour … Three Cousins, Three Dimensionally Displaced Good Guys, An Infinite Line of CrazySugarSuperHeroes!, And The Obligatory Team-up. Wednesday, 19-Jul-2000 23:08:35
Tie-In To Untold Tales Of The Lair Legion: Take It To The Rush Hour … Three Cousins, Three Dimensionally Displaced Good Guys, An Infinite Line of CrazySugarSuperHeroes!, And The Obligatory Team-up. Goldeneyed: “Alright, robot, you have five seconds to surrender and answer my questions before I reduce you to scrap metal.” GlitchedGadgetRiotgrrlRobot!: “Searching history files … scanning … human Bry Katz, superhero designate Goldeneyed, sidekick of superhero designate Frog-Man, cousin of human Derek Foreman, superhero designate Exile, and member of the Lair Legion. Goldeneyed: “Wait … how do you know – ” GlitchedGadgetRiotgrrlRobot!: “And according to my data records, you also partnered up with the Dreamcatcher on at least one occasion. Am I correct?” Goldeneyed: “Dream? You know CrazySugarFreakBoy!?” GlitchedGadgetRiotgrrlRobot!: “Human Dreamcatcher Kokopelli Foxglove is no longer classified under that superhero designate. At least, not in the time zone that I hail from. He retired roughly around the same time that the Resolution War concluded, about a decade into the future, relative to your era of origin. Now, he is simply the Dreamcatcher, father of human Iris Paintbrush Foxfire.” Goldeneyed: “That still doesn’t answer my original question. How do you even know Dream in the first place?” GlitchedGadgetRiotgrrlRobot!: “The Dreamcatcher may have retired from his identity as superhero designate CrazySugarFreakBoy!, but the role must remain occupied, in order to preserve the continuity of the CrazySugarSuperHero! line. Autobot Glitch, function sabotage, superhero designate GlitchedGadgetRiotgrrlRobot! Pleased to meet you.” Goldeneyed: “You’re a Transformer?” GlitchedGadgetRiotgrrlRobot!: “I tend to prefer the term ‘Cybertronian’ myself, but the intended meaning behind your appellation is correct. If it helps, just think of me as the ‘Batman Beyond’ style successor to superhero designate CrazySugarFreakBoy!” Goldeneyed: “Okay, that makes about zero sense, but if you really are the one who ends up carrying on CSFB’s! legacy, then the fact what you’re saying DOESN’T make any sense probably just proves how true it is. Mind telling me why you’re here, then?” GlitchedGadgetRiotgrrlRobot!: “Apparently, to rescue you, human Bry Katz. Human Lair Legion ally Sir Mumphrey Wilton imbued me with a minor chronal charge, just enough to warp me back approximately ten years or so into my past, which would be the present day from your perspective, so that I could retrieve you from the dimensional crossroads, and then return you to your proper place in the space-time continuum … by way of a minor detour.” Goldeneyed: “Good to know Mumph is still alive and well in the future – wait, what do you mean, ‘a minor detour’?” GlitchedGadgetRiotgrrlRobot!: “Well, for reasons that were NOT revealed to me, we’re meant to sort out some situation in the distant future, and by ‘distant future’ I mean a future far in advance of BOTH our eras of origin, before you can be returned to your native time zone and reunited with your allies in the Lair Legion.” Goldeneyed: “And I’m guessing that Mumph didn’t drop any hints regarding what we could expect to encounter in this far future, did he?” GlitchedGadgetRiotgrrlRobot!: “True to form, as always. His talent for obfuscation rivals that of my other mentor, Janus Doctor Xeno Phobia, superhero designate Extraterrestrial Enigma. Not even Alpha Trion was as deliberately obscure as those two.” Goldeneyed: “Well, we’re not going to find out what’s waiting for us in the future by sitting around here, so let’s head out. I mean, unless there’s some reason for us to stick around here, in the literal middle of nowhere?” GlitchedGadgetRiotgrrlRobot!: “None that I can determine, no, but for some reason I can’t seem to warp us forward to our intended destination.” Goldeneyed: “What? Why not?” GlitchedGadgetRiotgrrlRobot!: “Anomaly unknown. If I had to hazard a guess, I’d say that outside forces must be blocking my access to the remaining charge of chronal energy with which human Lair Legion ally Sir Mumphrey Wilton imbued me. Given the little we know of the properties of this realm, any number of unquantifiable factors could be responsible for such circumstances – ” Goldeneyed: “Hey, is it just me, or is it getting darker in here?” GlitchedGadgetRiotgrrlRobot!: “The amount of visible light in our area has decreased by nearly ten percent within the short span of the few minutes that we’ve been conversing. Hang on a bit … There we go. My motorcycle brights should grant your organic optics a greater degree of visibility.” Goldeneyed: “Yeah. Um, nice … headlights.” GlitchedGadgetRiotgrrlRobot!: “Thanks. The Dreamcatcher was awfully fond of watching me flash my high-beams, too … you organic males are so cute when you blush, you know that?” Goldeneyed: “Anyways, about getting us the heck out of here – ” GlitchedGadgetRiotgrrlRobot!: “Right. Sorry. It’s just that I’m usually the one getting teased, so it’s hard to resist when the opportunity presents itself to poke a little fun at someone else. I do apologize if my comment crossed the line, though.” Goldeneyed: “Nah, it’s okay. It’s just sort of weird, to think about Transformers being … you know, that way.” GlitchedGadgetRiotgrrlRobot!: “Possessed of a sexuality which mirrors that of you organics, you mean? Tell me about it. In the course of one of my first team-ups with the Lair Legion, we faced off against supervillain designate The Enemy of the World. He actually managed to capture me and a handful of the members of the Lair Legion, but as soon as his diagnostic scans of our superhuman abilities revealed that my femme chassis wasn’t just for show, and that we ‘Transformers’ do indeed include construction underneath our armor that makes us capable of interfacing with each other sexually, he immediately curled up into fetal position and began crying. It’s an idea that not many humans seem to be ready for, which is why, around most members of your species, we tend to keep it under the hood, so to speak. Or at least, most of us do, anyway.” Goldeneyed: “Heh. Sorry, I don’t mean to laugh, but it’s just funny, because Dream would kill to be a part of this conversation right now.” GlitchedGadgetRiotgrrlRobot!: “Hahahahahaha! He would, wouldn’t he? In my era of origin, he’s so different, all calm and mature and into the responsible father trip, that I occasionally forget how he was when I first met him, in your time zone. Beta’s spark, even I could barely believe how fixated he was on the idea of cartoon and comic book characters interfacing with each other. It’s probably why I found him so irresistible. Come on, then. Let’s scout out the surrounding area, and see if we can locate the source of whatever’s preventing our tesserracting through to the far-flung future. “Wanna ride me, big boy? “In motorcycle mode, I mean.” Goldeneyed: “Um, thanks, but in order to avoid overlooking anything, I’m thinking maybe we should cover the terrain on foot, at least for now.” GlitchedGadgetRiotgrrlRobot!: “Suit yourself. You’re missing the ride of a lifetime, though …” __________ Goldeneyed: “… It was supposed to work out perfectly. Derek and I were going to fake my death at his hands, so that Derek could fool Colonel Destiny into thinking that I really had been killed, and my powers had been transferred to Derek, so that Colonel Destiny would release his hold on Valeria, and Derek could rescue her. But thanks to those stupid Celestians, things must have gone wonky somehow, so that I wound up zapped into the formless void when I tried to teleport away, which means that Derek must think he really did kill me, and Laurie still doesn’t know that I never wanted to … do any of those THINGS, that she assumes was all I was ever after in the first place. And because I’m stuck sitting here, I’ll never get the chance to tell them how wrong they were, or to make things right between us.” GlitchedGadgetRiotgrrlRobot!: “Human Laurie Layton, superhero designate Lisette, ally of the Lair Legion – she is your mate, then?” Goldeneyed: “I – I’d like her to be, yeah, but given what she believes about my intentions towards her, I don’t see that happening anytime soon.” GlitchedGadgetRiotgrrlRobot!: “You have a pure spark, human Bry Katz – a ‘good soul’, as your species would say. If human Laurie Layton is worthy of your affections, then she will come to realize this as well, and will eventually recognize your worth as a mate, as well. And you WILL have the opportunity to explain yourself and your actions to her, face-to-face, because I WILL return you to your home and your friends. I promise. In the meantime, don’t beat yourself up too badly about your little strategy not being able to account for the presence of the Celestians. Let me tell you a story, to help you put the power of the Celestians into some sense of perspective. “You see, we femmes were among the resistance fighters stationed on Cybertron during the Third Cybertronian Civil War. We were there, manning the communication stations, when the troops received news of Megatron’s siege against Autobot City on Earth. We were already mourning the loss of Optimus Prime and the others, honoring the fallen on our planet’s metallic surface, when the Dark God Unicron descended upon us. “I lost count of how many more Autobots and Decepticons died in those brief moments of battle, their sparks silenced forever as they were sent back to the Matrix or the Inferno for the last time. Even worse was when the conflict was over, and I saw, firsthand, the effect that our fallen comrades’ absence had on the lives of those who had survived. “Chromia had been so tough and invulnerable before, all full of aggression and bravado, but she was inconsolable without Ironhide beside her. I don’t think she had ever loved a male before, and I know for a fact that she has never loved another male since. “Firestar and Moonracer were almost as distraught, and in some ways, even more so. After all, unlike Chromia, they had only known Inferno and Powerglide, their respective mates, for a relatively short period of time, since the two couples had just recently progressed from mere interface partners to true mates, when Inferno and Powerglide became members of the crew of other Autbot males that departed Cybertron on the Ark, and subsequently crash-landed on Earth, where they would be stranded for the next few million years, before they could be revived by Teletran-1 and reunited with Firestar and Moonracer. So, in many ways, Firestar and Moonracer mourned not only the deaths of their mates, but also the opportunities that they had missed, to really get to know the males with whom they had shared themselves so intimately. “Elita-One was hit the hardest, though. She and Optimus Prime were not merely mates – they completed each other. Not even Arcee could alleviate her depression, although I’m guessing that Elita, like a lot of the femmes, might have been holding a grudge against Arcee, since Arcee’s mate, Springer, had survived. It was just so strange, considering how proud and regal Elita-One had once been, to see her retreat so totally from her own life. She was just beginning to recover from the blow, and recover some measure of her former independence, when Optimus was finally returned to us. “The point is, I saw the despair that had followed in Unicron’s terrible wake, and I became convinced that, more than Megatron, more than Galvatron, more than even all of the other Decepticons put together, Unicron was the greatest personification of absolute evil in existence. I still do, to a certain extent, even though I know now how irrational such a belief probably is, in the grand scheme of things. “And yet, for all of that, I never failed to recognize that the whole of Unicron’s power, and the scope of destruction of which he was capable, was as nothing compared to that of the Celestians. They are ABOVE Godhood. Not even the Quintessons dare utter their names in their dark prayers, to whatever unspeakable evil they worship. That you and your fellow human superheroes have merely survived, not just one, but TWO encounters with the Celestians, is a testament to ALL the members of your species.” Goldeneyed: “Geez … I hope you don’t take offense or anything, but when I first met you, I kinda had you pegged as a bit – well, okay, a LOT like Dream, you know? But from what you’re saying, it sounds like you’ve been through quite a bit.” GlitchedGadgetRiotgrrlRobot!: “We all have, Autobots and Decepticons alike. Plus, from your standpoint as an organic, I suppose the comparative length of the average Cybertronian lifespan wouldn’t help any. I mean, I’m the youngest of all the Autobot femmes, and I’m at least four million years old, by your Terran units of time measurement. Don’t let that fool you, though. If the constant counseling sessions I receive from Optimus Prime and Ultra Magnus, and yes, even Goldbug, are any indication, then I’m still the most immature, impulsive, reckless, heedless, and thoroughly thoughtless Mech ever to bear the Autobot insignia. So don’t flatter me too much. I have a ways to go yet before I can even hope to be half the superhero that Dream was.” Goldeneyed: “Did – did YOU lose anyone close you, during the war?” GlitchedGadgetRiotgrrlRobot!: “A few friends, some of them close. But that’s not what you’re asking, though, is it? No, I didn’t lose my mate in the Cybertronian Civil Wars, mainly because I didn’t have a mate to lose. “I … I’ve never interfaced with anyone, ever. “Hot Rod certainly wanted to, if his come-on lines were any indication, but he’d already been with enough of the femmes for the stories to filter back to the rest of us. “Arcee, in particular, had been burned pretty badly by him, not long before he received the Autobot Matrix of Leadership, and was reborn as Rodimus Prime – one of the many reasons why he and Springer never quite saw optic to optic during the brief period that Rodimus led the Autobots, up until Optimus Prime returned from the dead and reclaimed the Matrix, effectively reverting Rodimus to Hot Rod again. “Even though nearly every last datum of the Matrix’s accumulated generations of wisdom was needed to cure the Madness Plague, it was kind of a shame that Rodimus Prime had to surrender its inherited maturity, since he was finally starting to earn Springer’s grudging respect as a leader – and perhaps even mine as well. “For all of these reasons, as well as various others, I recognized that, however flattering Hot Rod’s engine-revving and showing off when I was around him might have been, if I had given in to him, if I had let him have his way with me, and let him interface with me, it wouldn’t have signified any sort of deep or spiritual mating between us. “He would have been my first, but I would have been nothing more than another notch in his flame decal armor, and that would have been about it. “Now that I think about it, I suppose I can understand human Laurie Layton’s reservations about romantic interactions with males of her species, since I’ve occasionally felt the same way myself. “As for the rest of the Mechs, either they were cocky young hard-chargers whose optics never managed to scan past my ‘headlights’, or they were dented-up old vets who viewed me as being too much of a ‘baby ‘bot’ even to consider as a potential mate. “All except for Bumblebee. “He was so cute in his VW Bug mode, all compact and chubby and sunny yellow, and in robot mode … oh, by the Matrix, no one was as adorable! I had SUCH a crush on him, but he was so sweet and unassuming and afraid of being overbearing that he never even suspected that any femme could be attracted to him. Unfortunately, by the time I’d finally worked up the courage to tell him how I felt, the Madness Plague had befallen us, and once it was all over, the Quintessons had rebuilt him … and he wasn’t Bumblebee anymore. “He was Goldbug now. “I mean, he had all of Bumblebee’s memories, and he even had Bumblebee’s spark, his ‘soul’ as you humans would probably classify it, but somehow, in the rebuilding, something inside of him had changed, and while he was still the same noble, honest, self-sacrificing Autobot we had all been proud to call our ally and our friend, he wasn’t the same charmingly nervous, funny, winningly self-effacing Mech I had fallen in love with. “Damn these malfunctioning optics … always leaking lens cleaning fluid out of the tear ducts. Anyway – “When all was said and done, I had lost my one chance with the Mech who was probably my intended mate, and worst of all, I have no one to blame but myself. Primus, I can’t believe how stupid I was.” Goldeneyed: “Don’t say that! You’re not stupid. Trust me, I’ve made much worse mistakes. Even if I hadn’t hurt Laurie, by not being honest with her, I’d still have plenty of regrets. When I went up against Brackets – ” GlitchedGadgetRiotgrrlRobot!: “I know, Bry. I know. I downloaded the data files from HALLIE. I know all about it. I know what you were forced to do. I know how much you must condemn yourself for your actions, every time you scan over your bootlogs of the event, replaying it, over and over again, in your head. “But I also know that, in one way, being a superhero is like being a native of Cybertron, because no matter what else you are, whether you’re a medic, a scientist, a worker, a technician, or even just a consumer goods ‘bot, you’re also a soldier, by simple virtue of being a native of Cybertron, if for no other reason than the fact that Cybertron has been at war with itself, almost ever since its creation by the Quintessons. And in war, enemy soldiers die. “I was still fresh out of the foundry of Vector Sigma’s master-mold when I was handed my first blaster-rifle. The Third Cybertronian Civil War was already well underway before the Creation Matrix ever implanted my spark into the Impossibilityium-composed construct that would become my body. By the time Optimus Prime and the other Autobot males had departed Cybertron, I’d already deactivated my fair share of Decepticons, and sent their sparks screaming into the Inferno – we all had, all of us femmes, even though we had been designed as nothing more than consumer goods ‘bots originally. “Even though I’ve since resolved never again to resort to deadly force, unless there are no other alternatives, there are occasions in every soldier’s career of combat when it simply can’t be avoided. “If it’s any consolation, I sincerely believe that your situation was one of them.” Goldeneyed: “Actually, it is. Thanks. So, um, you don’t kill at all anymore?” GlitchedGadgetRiotgrrlRobot!: “Decepticons? “Again, not unless it’s them or me, with no other way out. “But if that is indeed the case, and my back is to the wall, then whoever the Decepticons are, they’re getting slagged, end of story. “Organics, though? “Never. “Never ever ever. “Ever. “No matter what. “Call it an irrational prejudice if you wish, but I refuse to take the life of any member of any organic species. Maybe it’s because I feel like I already have an unfair advantage over them, I don’t know, but I don’t think I could excuse myself for resorting to that, regardless of the circumstances. “Besides, killing is just something that a CrazySugarSuperHero! doesn’t do. “Something I learned about superheroes from the Dreamcatcher is that, when you strip everything else away from a human superhero, if he or she really is as much ‘hero’ as ‘super’, then at his or her core is nothing more, and nothing less, than a human who doesn’t want to see anyone die. No matter whether it’s Superman, Batman, Captain America, or Spider-Man, the same principle always applies. It’s what makes them ‘good guys’, as the Dreamcatcher put it. “It’s what makes you a ‘good guy’ too, by the way.” Goldeneyed: “Well, now, I don’t know if I’d go quite that far, but *ahem* anyway – Dream taught you all that, huh?” GlitchedGadgetRiotgrrlRobot!: “Dream taught me EVERYTHING about being a superhero. He lent me his entire collection of superhero comic books, cartoons, TV shows, movies, role-playing manuals, magazines, novels, and internet site files to download into my permanent hard drive. He instructed me in all the important points, until I could retrieve them from my memory banks instantly. “The Justice League of America are The World’s Greatest Superheroes. The Fantastic Four are The World’s Coolest Family. Batman is The World’s Greatest Detective. Captain America is The World’s Greatest Leader. The Flash is The Fastest Man Alive. Spider-Man is Your Favorite Friendly Neighborhood Web-Slinger. Stan is The Man. Kirby is King. Rob Liefeld is Satan. John Byrne After ‘Man of Steel’ is more evil than Lex Luthor. Chapter One is Crap. With Great Power Comes Great Responsibility. With Lame Supervillains Come Enormous Opportunities For One-Liners. The more impossible the odds, the more likely you are to pull a come-from-behind victory. Supervillains who talk about themselves in the third person are self-absorbed megalomaniacs, which is good for you, because if you’re lucky, then you can trick them into defeating themselves, just by letting them talk. And nothing, but NOTHING, is a more humiliating defeat for any supervillain worthy of the title, than to be beaten by the one superhero who had no business challenging them in the first place, ESPECIALLY if the superhero in question fires off a one-liner after he or she has utterly demoralized the supervillain.” Goldeneyed: “Heh. Yep, it sounds like you’ve learned all the major life lessons associated with the career of a costumed crimefighter. In fact, if I were Dream, I’d be pretty proud of how well you’ve turned out as a superhero.” GlitchedGadgetRiotgrrlRobot!: “Awww. Are all you organic males so sweet? You and Dream both, so kind and gentle … and you both blush so easily! “Sorry, sorry, I’m teasing again, I know, but your embarrassed reactions are too delightful for me to resist giving in to my more mischievous impulses every now and then. Besides, if YOU had spent the entirety of YOUR four million years of existence being made over as the ‘little sister’ of all the other Autobot femmes, I suspect that YOU would seize upon any opportunity to turn that tortuous treatment onto someone else, too. “I suppose that’s why I play up the ‘sexy femme’ persona so much around you humans. At least when I’m among members of your species, I’m not trapped by anyone else’s preconceived notions of who I should or shouldn’t be. I can flirt or dare as much as I please, without all the Autobots who have known me ever since I was assembled telling me that I’m too much of a ‘baby ‘bot’ to be behaving in such an adult way. “Among you organics, I can be a sultry siren of a superheroine if I wish, without Ultra Magnus or Hot Rod or Elita-One or Arcee or any of them pointing out that, no, I can’t be a sexy femme, because it’s inappropriate for a ‘Transformer’ to flaunt her wares in front of the Terrans, like some brazen pleasure ‘droid, and because I’m nothing but a – a ‘virgin’? Is that your people’s term for it?” Goldeneyed: “Hey! Don’t you dare let anyone make you feel ashamed of that! I mean, let’s face it, you’re not the only one here who’s, um … inexperienced.” GlitchedGadgetRiotgrrlRobot!: “Oh, fine for you to say, Bry! You’re not even a millennium old yet! Talk to me when you’re four million years old, and have never been kissed by one of your own kind. Most of the femmes had already interfaced with their prospective mates by the time they were my age. “Well, except for Chromia, but then, until she found herself attracted to Ironhide, she had always been more interested in her fellow femmes than in any of the Autobot males whom she had fought alongside against the Decepticons. “In fact, after the Descent of the Dark God over Cybertron, Chromia and Moonracer had nowhere to turn but each other for consolation following the loss of their respective mates. As they mourned the absence of Ironhide and Powerglide in their lives, they soon discovered the solace they had sought in each other’s arms, and eventually, they became mates themselves.” Goldeneyed: “You mean … they were – ” GlitchedGadgetRiotgrrlRobot!: “I admired their bravery. Even though Cybertronian civilization doesn’t affix nearly the same degree of social stigma to mono-gender mating as the majority of your Terran cultures tend to do, mainly because, among our species, the sexual interfacing that’s an implicit condition in mating has only recently become associated with any sort of reproductive process as you organics would classify it, it’s still considered non-standard for two Mechs of the same gender to declare their romantic commitment to one another so openly.” Goldeneyed: “Wow … gay Transformers. I have to admit, this was definitely not a conversation I expected to take part in when I woke up this morning. If nothing else, though, I can certainly say that I learned something new today.” GlitchedGadgetRiotgrrlRobot!: “I apologize if I’m volunteering too much information, but I believe in being open about these matters. I’ve made no secret of my disagreement with Ultra Magnus’ counsel, that we Autobots should simply refuse to share any data related to our sexual issues with humans, and instead should merely seek to ‘keep it under the hood’. Optimus Prime, on the other hand, is intelligent enough not to mind if his troops are a bit more forthcoming in that regard, since I think he’s somewhat uncomfortable with the idea of concealing any aspects of our identities as Cybertronians from our Terran allies anyway, but he’s still rather reserved in the extent of his testimony for my taste. “As far as I’m concerned, it’s better in the long run to have full disclosure at the outset, on all sides, rather than wearing down the trust built between our two species, with each subjecting the other to a constant stream of surprise admissions that have been forced upon them by whatever the circumstances happen to be at that moment. “After all, you can bet your axle that Firestar would have appreciated some measure of the same honesty, when she discovered that her mate, Inferno, and his best friend, Red Alert, had been going at it pretty much ever since Teltran-1 had revived them, along with the rest of the Autobots in their expedition crew, in the Terran calendar year 1984 AD, roughly four million years after the Ark had crash-landed on the Earth’s surface, which was not long after its departure from Cybertron to begin with. “As if grieving over her mate’s death wasn’t enough for her to deal with, following the Descent of the Dark God, she also had to cope with the indignity of finding out that her mate’s infidelity had long since been all but acknowledged among the rest of the members of the Earth-bound Autobot crew, except that none of them had seen fit to tell her anything about it!” Goldeneyed: “Hahaha – um …*ahem*. And she was slightly pissed, I take it?” GlitchedGadgetRiotgrrlRobot!: “‘Post-nuclear’ was the turn of phrase Kup employed to describe it, if my memory banks are functioning properly. In the males’ defense, however, it’s almost always been a traditional tenet of etiquette among our kind not to intrude in each other’s personal affairs, unless one of the troops’ off-duty activities was directly affecting their ability to accomplish the mission objectives. I doubt that any of the Autobots actually knew for a fact whether or not Firestar WAS, or WASN'T, aware of what they suspected MAY, or MAY NOT, have been going on between Inferno and Red Alert, and more importantly, I’m fairly confident that none of them really WANTED to know, either, unless credible evidence could be brought to bear to prove that the males’ covert relationship was responsible for impeding the mission readiness of our side as a whole. “I must confess, I’ve never understood the preoccupation of your human fighting forces with excluding those who prefer to interface with members of their own gender, since their presence poses no more risk of their military’s mission being compromised than does the presence of male and female soldiers serving together under the same command, as part of the same unit, in the same troop lodgings. Starscream being the exception that proved the rule, of course. His exceptional knowledge of aerial combat tactics aside, why Megatron tolerated him as long as he did is beyond me – ” Goldeneyed: “Actually, as far as I know, a lot of Earth nations still DO segregate their armed forces into male and female divisions, if they allow women to join at all. It’s only recently that some countries have even allowed women to sign up for active duty, much less serve alongside men in actual combat.” GlitchedGadgetRiotgrrlRobot!: “What!? But that’s absurd! Do they think that their troops have such minimal levels of self-control that all of the male and female soldiers will start interfacing indiscriminately with each other as soon as they’re left alone together?” Goldeneyed: “Um, well … yeah, I guess. The way you worded it, though, makes it all seem a bit sillier then how they tend to explain it – ” GlitchedGadgetRiotgrrlRobot!: “Of course it does! Primus, how ignorant can a species be in its misuse of logic?! After all, even if such an unlikely worst case scenario extrapolation happened to be valid in a handful of isolated instances, then SO WHAT if they did? I mean, Beta’s spark, it’s not like the unit’s mission readiness will be undermined if a few of the troops are going off to undo the latches on each other’s chest or breast plates, and cod or sod pieces, in the privacy of their own quarters, when their watch shifts have concluded, so long as the effects of whatever romantic relationships they choose to involve themselves in are confined to after working hours. “In fact, I’d argue that allowing the soldiers to relieve their tensions in such a fashion actually increases their level of discipline and focus when they’re on duty, since it stands to reason that they could probably concentrate a lot more effectively on accomplishing the essential tasks at hand if they’re not preoccupied by the absence of a mate in their personal lives. “And don’t deceive yourself, just because of whatever preconceived notions you might harbor, regarding the true nature of Cybertronians’ non-biological anatomy. Everyone, but EVERYONE, feels that need – either for a mate, or just a partner to interface with – at least once during the course of his or her existence, no matter who he or she might be, or what species he or she might belong to. “I’ll never forget the one late evening, that I went to access Teletran-2’s database browser at the Metroplex, and an image of HALLIE appeared onscreen, with mussed-up virtual hair and what appeared to be virtual sheets clutched over her virtual bosom. I apologized for interrupting her in the midst of what was obviously a private moment, averting my optics to avoid staring, and she apologized for responding to my information request with a virtual visage so visibly lacking in decorum, and once we’d both spent a couple of silent seconds recovering from our shared embarrassment, I politely excused myself, and quickly exited out of the database browser program. “She’s never volunteered any explanation of why she’d been inside Teletran-2’s system, and although I certainly have my suspicions, I’ve never asked her about it, because I’m not really sure that I want to know. First and foremost, it’s none of my business, but it’s also that I’m afraid of what I find out changing the manner in which I relate to her. In the time that I’ve spent among you humans, HALLIE has become the closest thing I’ve ever had to what you organics would classify as a ‘mother’, and I’d prefer not to learn the history or intimate details of whatever sex life she MIGHT, or MIGHT NOT, have. “Besides, it would be rather hypocritical of me to condemn her for seeking out some semblance of companionship, sexual or otherwise, behind closed doors – well, actually, ‘behind encryption barriers’ would be a more accurate descriptive phrase, in this specific instance, but you understand my intended meaning. Especially considering the minimal amount of off-duty time that HALLIE allows herself, I’d say that she’s more than entitled to have a little fun in private, with whomever she wishes, as long as everyone involved is consenting and sentient. I mean, my own personal preferences might not run to Casey Kasem voices, but who am I to judge, right? At least she’s managed to obtain some measure of … satisfaction, which is probably more than this little ‘baby ‘bot’ will ever be able to say for herself.” Goldeneyed: “Okay, I’m probably going to regret saying this, but … what about Dream? It seems like you two, you know, get along pretty well, and unless I’m misreading things, you act like you’re, well, attracted to him. Maybe he could be your, um, mate?” GlitchedGadgetRiotgrrlRobot!: “Oh, no! I could never ... not with an organic.” Goldeneyed: “Why not? After all, it sounds like your people are pretty tolerant when it comes to non-traditional, um, mating, at least by human standards. I mean, unless it has to do with some sort of, well … taboo, about revealing the details of your, um, you know, romantic lives, to us humans?” GlitchedGadgetRiotgrrlRobot!: “No, nothing like that. It’s just – you have to understand something, Bry. “Our two species perceive time by entirely different increments of measurement. And as much as I’ve treasured the moments that I’ve spent among you humans, and no matter how much I’ve come to value organics as friends as well as allies, I can never escape the fact that your lives are little more than a blink of our optics. “It seems like less than a cycle since I first met Dream, and yet, he’s already aged so much in that short span of time. “I’ve already lost so many who were close to me, that I can’t bear the idea of pledging myself to one whom I know will be even older, or possibly even gone for good, with the next blink of my optics. Perhaps that’s somewhat cowardly of me, but I don’t care. I won’t subject myself to that sort of loss again. Not if I can help it, anyhow. “Also, not to put too fine a point on it, but there’s the more practical matter of anatomical compatibility to consider. There’s a reason that the Decepticons’ favorite racial slur for organics is ‘squishies’. “Apparently, Rumble and Frenzy, two of Soundwave’s more disgusting little lackeys, were the ones who came up with that particular derogatory description, when they decided to put into practice some of the acts that they had seen demonstrated in the movie ‘A Clockwork Orange’, with the unwilling aid of a few of the human females that they had captured during a raid on a nearby power plant. I guess that none of the Cybertronian femmes that Soundwave’s mini-Mechs had encountered had ever allowed either Rumble OR Frenzy to interface with them, probably because their pathetic little interface units were too small to satisfy ANY femme, whether Autobot or Decepticon. So, the twin tapes opted to take out their frustrations on the helpless organics, interfacing with them without their consent. “By the time we arrived on the scene, both human females had sustained massive internal damage. I had never imagined, that – I mean, of course, I had heard some of the stories, from during the Wars, about the enemy soldiers who used their interface units as weapons, against their femme prisoners, but I – I had never truly understood how such a thing could be, until I saw, with my own two optics, what those monsters had done. “The point is that, medically speaking, humans and ‘Transformers’ aren’t designed for such couplings. If I attempted to interface with an organic, I’d be terrified of injuring him, crippling him, possibly even killing him, all without ever meaning to do so. Even though any embraces I shared with an organic mate would be purely consensual, unlike Rumble and Frenzy’s deliberate abuse and violation of those poor human females, the potential for me to wound ANY organic mate during our embraces would be just as real. “Definitely a different interpretation of ‘With Great Power Comes Great Responsibility’ than even the superheroes of your species are accustomed to, I’m assuming? “Am I correct, Bry? “Bry? “Bry!? “BRY!!! “Bry, where are you!? I’m not registering your presence on either my optics or my audio sensors! If you can hear me, please answer! “Okay, if you can’t answer me, just follow the sound of my voice. I’ll keep talking until we can locate each other. Switching to infrared vision … scanning … negative thermal signatures. Switching to ultraviolet spectrum … scanning … negative. SLAG! “Bry, why can’t I see you? Why can’t I see anything? Why can’t my optics compensate for the lack of visible light? Why is everything going dark? All of my sensory inputs – audio, visual, tactile, olfactory, everything – it feels like it’s all going offline, and I don’t know why, and I can’t stop myself from shutting down – “BRY! “Bry – I’m so sorry. I never meant to break my promise to you … ” << SYSTEMS ERROR >> __________ Bry Katz was happy. He and his wife, Laurie Layton, had just returned from the marriage of Bry’s cousin, Derek Foreman, to Valeria of Carfax, in time to tuck their own children in for the night, and to relieve the alien thought being, Yo, of his/her babysitting duties just before s/he had run out of ways to entertain the “cuteling babys”. Bry was a senior advisor to the Lair Legion now, semi-retired from the superhero game despite his relatively young age, for no other reason than his desire to devote himself more fully to his family, so that he could spend his days raising and caring for his grade school aged children, and taking advantage of every opportunity to let his successful lawyer wife know how much he loved her, and how grateful he was to be a part of her life. To a great extent, Bry was happy because Laurie was happy, something that she had almost never been during her tenure as a superhero. Laurie had taken over Lisa’s lucrative law practice, when the First Lady of the Lair Legion had left her seat vacant at the legal firm where she served as a senior partner, not only to redirect her time and efforts towards the upbringing of her infant son, Christopher, but also to allow the former junior superheroine, and one-time leading lass of the quickly-disbanded New Battlers, to escape the shadow of her brief career as the costumed crimefighter nicknamed “Lisette”. Now, Laurie fought for truth, justice and the American way under her own name and identity, without her status as a would-be sex kitten sidekick diminishing or disguising the true worth to humanity of her heroic deeds in the courtroom. At long last, Laurie Layton was her own person – an acclaimed and ethical lawyer to her clients and colleagues in the profession, an attentive and affectionate mother to her children, and a respected and beloved spouse to the man she married – free from the adolescent obligations of her absurd adventures or her immature teenaged teammates, and her loving husband wouldn’t have had her any other way. And yet, as Bry and Laurie hugged and kissed their wee ones to sleep, and padded with silent footfalls up to their own bedroom to retire for the night, a nagging doubt gnawed at the edges of Bry’s sense of contentment, making him wonder if perhaps he had actually earned this fate after all. Once inside the privacy of their bedchambers, Laurie locked the door, and pursed her lips in a seductive smirk, sliding her arms around her wonderful husband, and as Bry leaned in to press his lips firmly against hers, his eyes shot wide with the realization of exactly WHAT the annoying buzz was, in the back of his conscious perception, that refused to leave him be. In that instant, he knew, with a regret greater than any that he had ever felt, that he could not stay in this desperately desired illusion, that he still had to prove to Laurie that he deserved more than merely her total loathing and contempt, much less any measure of her love, and so, as he lifted her chin with his fingers, and craned his neck down to return the passionate contact which her own lips so clearly sought out, he reconciled himself to the bitter reality that this was, both figuratively and literally, a kiss goodbye to his fondest and most wished-for dreams, at least until he could put things right … __________ Glitch was happy. No, she decided, she was more than happy. She was deliriously, ecstatically, completely overjoyed. As she undid the latches on her breastplate with trembling fingers, she gazed with undisguised lust at the Autobot male who stood across the room from her, who had already unfastened his own chest plate and was now anxiously fumbling with his cod piece, his eagerness mirroring her own as they embraced each other, two pairs of metallic arms wrapping around each other, two pairs of metallic lips pressed against each other, until they broke off their kiss to gasp for breath, two sharp intakes of oxygen that served to regulate their gradually rising internal temperatures. Already, both Glitch and her mate were slick with the sheen of liquid coolant perspiration on their overheated metallic exteriors, and the servo-motors of their mechanical musculature hummed in anticipation of the sacred act that they would soon be engaging in. Glitch had fallen deeply in love with this particular Mech quite a while ago, for reasons that went well beyond the pale of purely physical attraction. It wasn’t just his fluorescent orange and neon green paint job, whose colors and luminosity matched her own, nor was it the fact that his chassis had been constructed out of an Impossibilityium alloy, as had her own. Yes, she would freely admit how cute she thought he looked in his vehicle mode, as a newer-model Volkswagen Beetle, and how adorable his day-glow yellow face plate appeared to her when he flashed that lopsided smirk at her, and how aroused she became when he turned the penetrating stare of those neon green optics upon her. And yet, despite the obvious charm of all of these handsomely crafted features, Glitch knew that her love for this “Transformer” transcended any such surface concerns, for she had loved him just as much, back when he had been nothing more than … an organic. Once, he had been human Dreamcatcher Kokopelli Foxglove, superhero designate CrazySugarFreakBoy!, but after the Quintessons had repaired the nearly-fatal damage he had sustained in battle, through the only method that they knew, by rebuilding him, by replacing his biological tissue with mechanical anatomy, and by transplanting his spark – his consciousness, or “soul”, as the humans were wont to classify it – intact into his freshly minted Impossibilityium frame, which had been forged from the smelted remains of his former Silly Suit, he was the Dreamcatcher no longer. Now, he was Autobot Love Bug, function reconnaissance, second in command to Autobot Goldbug, function leader of Autobot espionage section, and mate of Autobot Glitch, function sabotage. And tonight, he and Glitch were about to consummate their mating, through the one experience that Glitch had waited nearly four million years to share, with the right partner. “My core is molten with lubricant,” Glitch whispered seductively into his audio sensor, the intensity of her emotional responses making her concerned that her neural net might simply short out altogether, as the seemingly infinite array of previously unknown tactile sensations that flowed continuously from her pleasure sensors nearly overloaded her central processors, to the point that her equilibrium stabilizers briefly underwent a touch of technical difficulties, before she recovered her bearing, slid her sod piece out from between her shiny metallic thighs, and tossed it impatiently against the polished deck of their shared quarters. “By the Matrix, I need you. I need to feel you, to feel you inside of me, inside of my interface port. Please, my mate … complete me.” The Impossibilityium-composed Autobot who had once worn the organic body of Dreamcatcher Kokopelli Foxglove grinned mischievously at her. “God, I love it when you talk dirty to me.” His metallic hips ground roughly against hers, as she moaned, and giggled to herself about how GOOD it felt, about how PERFECT this all was – How perfect it was, she realized with a start, because it was TOO perfect. Where was Iris, after all? Even if Dream WERE to become a Cybertronian, raising his daughter would remain his main reason for being. Where was SHE, then, in the midst of all this embarrassingly self-serving, badly scripted fantasy? For that matter, what about Iris’ MOTHER? Dream would NEVER be so callous, or so uncaring, either towards his daughter, OR towards the mother of his child, Glitch reminded herself. So, she told herself, forcing her heart to admit to those empiric conditions which her head had pretty much figured out already, even as the living image of her fondest desire prepared to merge with her, if Dream would never behave in this fashion … Then, this couldn’t be Dream. Which meant that this wasn't really her Dream come true, after all. __________ Bry and Glitch awoke suddenly, at almost the exact same second, to find themselves enmeshed in a deeply committed kiss. It didn’t last long, perhaps less than half a second, before both broke off the unexpected embrace by shoving each other away, as Glitch wiped Bry’s septic organic saliva off of her otherwise sterile lips, and Bry attempted to spit the distinct and distasteful metallic tang of Glitch’s mouth out of his own, muttering under his breath about how her tongue tasted like licking aluminum foil, until they each, in turn, caught sight of the shimmering, indistinct, androgynous figure that floated before them, its flowing palette of fluorescent orange, neon green and day-glow yellow remaining slightly translucent, even as their brightness nearly blinded Goldeneyed and the GlitchedGadgetRiotgrrlRobot!, who soon spotted the orange and green smiley face symbol that shone out from the genderless energy being’s chest and back, in no small part due to the fact that this quickly recognizable icon was the only feature on its exterior that could be distinguished from the rest of its ever-changing pattern of swirling colors. And yet, in the midst of its eddying spectrum of perpetually mixing hues, Glitch swore that she could detect a strangely familiar, lopsided smirk on its otherwise indescribable face. LudicrousLuminousKineticKid!: “Congratulations. You two just freed yourselves from the Hero Feeders through pure force of will, an act of which few individuals in this universe are capable. You experienced a mild dose of one of their favorite entrapment strategies, that of making the hero in question believe that his or her story has already ended, when in fact it has yet to be written. By tricking their victims into believing that all their tales have been told, the Hero Feeders can lull them into dropping out of continuity, through the soothing tranquility of spiritual apathy. Hey, Glitch, Bry. Been a while, hasn’t it?” Goldeneyed: “Okay, and who the heck are you supposed to be?” LudicrousLuminousKineticKid!: “Oh, yeah, that’s right. Every time I interact with the supporting cast members from one of my previous incarnations, I keep forgetting that none of you are exactly expecting to encounter me in this amalgamated manifestation. My name’s … well, I’ve already had way too many names to keep track of – believe me, when Joseph Campbell talked about the ‘Hero With A Thousand Faces’, he had no idea – so anymore, I just go by the LudicrousLuminousKineticKid!” GlitchedGadgetRiotgrrlRobot!: “You’re a CrazySugarSuperHero!? Searching history files … scanning … negative matches found. If there’s no record of you in the past, than are we to assume that you hail from the future? More specifically, are you a native inhabitant of the time zone which Mumph said would serve as our trans-temporal detour?” LudicrousLuminousKineticKid!: “A few trillion millennia further into the future than that, actually. I’m the last CrazySugarSuperHero! in all of existence. The end of the line. There ARE no more CrazySugarSuperHeroes! after me, mainly because there isn’t ANYTHING after me. Once the Parodyverse’s customer service hours have concluded, and it’s no longer open for business, I’m the one whose job it’ll be to close up the shop, turn off the lights, and lock all the doors behind me when I leave. You know, kind of like Death’s quote, in Neil Gaiman’s ‘Sandman’? Look, I can see that this is just confusing you two even more, so if it helps you understand where I’m coming from any better, just think of me as the ‘DC One Million’ counterpart to the CrazySugarFreakBoy! that you both knew.” Goldeneyed: “Fair enough, although that still doesn’t explain why you’re here. I mean, unless Mumph or Doc Phobia or whomever sent Glitch ALSO sent you, to rescue the ‘rescue party’? Of course, at the rate that things seem to be proceeding so far, I wouldn’t be much surprised … ” GlitchedGadgetRiotgrrlRobot!: “Hey! In case you haven't noticed, I don’t need any ‘rescuing’, just because I happen to be female. I’d like to see how well you would have coped with the considerable difficulties of your dimensional displacement WITHOUT my aid and assistance, big boy – ” LudicrousLuminousKineticKid!: “Ease off the accelerators, junior motorists. Now is not the moment for a personality conflict to take hold. As I see it, our first priority is leaving this twisted limbo behind, as in, yesterday ago, before the Hero Lurkers get hungry again, and happen to remember that they still have our essences stored away, in the back of their refrigerator, like leftover Chinese restaurant takeout, just waiting to be twirled onto their Nth-dimensional chopsticks, and scooped into the singularity of their bottomless maws. So, unless either of you two are dying – in this instance, quite literally – to wind up as the Elder Gods’ Ramen, I’d consider amping down the volume a bit, at least until we’re all walking out the door with the sign marked ‘EXIT’ posted directly above it.” Goldeneyed: “Um, that’s all well and good to say, but how exactly do we manage to put that helpful suggestion into any sort of practical application?” GlitchedGadgetRiotgrrlRobot!: “If the LudicrousLuminousKineticKid! was once the individual whom I believe him or her to be, then I’m guessing that he or she has already formulated an almost flawless solution to our current situation. Am I correct?” LudicrousLuminousKineticKid!: “It’s actually rather simple, when you think about it. “All you really need to travel from any place in this universe to any other place in this universe is enough energy to sustain you ‘til the end of your trip, at least one path that will take you from your starting point to your end destination, and the knowledge to find that path, and recognize it when you see it. The rest is just expending the effort of putting one foot in front of the other, until you’re finally there. “Glitch, you’re the energy. Mumph imbued you with enough of a chronal charge to carry both yourself and Bry to your eventual destination. The only problem is, you need a way to get there, and you need to know what that way is. “Bry, you ARE the way. The reason your powers weren’t working at all before is kind of like the reason that a compass ceases to be a useful tool for finding your way around once you’ve reached the North Pole. Thanks to my presence, however, the rules of this place are being bent a bit, and a number of exceptions are cropping up to contradict many of the traditionally hard-and-fast guidelines of this neverwhere. However, your teleportation powers are still far too inhibited by the fundamental forces of this vortex for them to operate independently, which is where Glitch comes in. You can piggy-back off of the power of the chronal charge that Mumph imbued her with, to open up a portal at the proper point along the timeline, and direct her energies towards that destination. “Only problem is, you need to know WHERE to direct her, and that’s where I come in. I’m your guide. I can travel through time and space and an infinite number of alternate realities under my own will, so you two don’t need to worry about further diluting the chronal charge Mumph lent you by sharing it with me. However, I can’t just grab passengers as I please, and bring them along for the ride as well, or at least, I can’t summon the strength to do it from the inside of this void, especially since my normal power levels are being severely sapped at the moment from holding the Hero Lurkers at bay. But thanks to the chronal charge, you two can move through time under your own will, and you don’t need me to carry you like dead weight. And that being the case, what I CAN do is lead you by the hand, and show you exactly where Mumph intended for you to go. “Due to my diminished power, however, I’m not going to be able to lead you out via the standard route, which would be to fast-forward through the centuries. Instead, I’ll have to try and attempt the ‘slingshot’ approach that Doctor Phobia recommended – in simplified terms, rewinding ourselves to the genesis of the Parodyverse, like pulling back the strap of a wrist rocket, and then deliberately releasing all control over the chronal charge, basically letting us all fly through time, into your intended destination in the future, like a well-aimed pellet through a neighbor’s plate glass window, by way of the unbroken continuity of the CrazySugarSuperHero! line itself. “So, now that everybody knows what they need to do in order for us all to get where we need to be, are there any questions? “No? “Then let’s book, gang.” GlitchedGadgetRiotgrrlRobot!: “Heh. Looks like you’re gonna get that ride after all, Bry. So, what are you in the mood for, as far as travel tunes are concerned?” Goldeneyed: “Huh? What do you mean, ‘travel tunes’?” GlitchedGadgetRiotgrrlRobot!: “Well, we can’t very well take a road trip without having some soothingly melodic sounds on the speakers to keep us entertained, now can we? So, what type of music do you go in for? I have an extensive library of Lion, Stan Bush and Vince DiCola songs to choose from, including ‘Dare’, ‘The Touch’ – ” Goldeneyed: “GAH!!! No thank you. Ever since Mark Wahlberg sang his off-key rendition of that song in ‘Boogie Nights’, just listening to it leaves a sour aftertaste in my mouth. Um, not that I ever saw that film, of course … well, or at least, I only watched it out of the corner of my eye, and THAT was only because Laurie had rented it for us to watch together that night – but *ahem* anyway, do you have any, you know, NON-Eighties travel tunes that we could listen to?” GlitchedGadgetRiotgrrlRobot!: “Tell me you’re kidding! How can you NOT like the Eighties!? ALL of the best Earth music was recorded during that decade of human history! Okay, so maybe I’m a tiny bit biased, seeing as how that era just so happens to be the period when I first encountered your Terran cultures, since that was when Teletran-1 finally got around to reviving the Autobot expeditionary force on board the Ark that had crash-landed on your planet approximately four million years before, thereby marking it as the start of my interactions with the people of your world, but nonetheless, I challenge you to find a more active, adventurous, eclectic, energetic, epic OR exciting age in the lyric lore of your species’ civilization. “After all, just take a moment to consider how much actually HAPPENED, during the short span of those ten rapid orbits around your solar system’s sun. A-Ha showed everyone that The Sun Always Shines On TV. The Bangles Walked Like An Egyptian through their Hazy Shade Of Winter, while Bananarama suffered through a cruel, Cruel Summer. The Buggles mourned how Video Killed The Radio Star, even as James Brown extolled the virtues of Living In America, and Belinda Carlisle learned that Heaven Is A Place On Earth. Depeche Mode reminded everyone that People Are People, and preached to us all to find our own Personal Jesus, while the Go-Gos simply went on Vacation, and Siouxsie & The Banshees played Peek-A-Boo. Pink Floyd was always putting Another Brick In The Wall, even as Starship told us all how We Built This City with rock and roll, but Toto topped them both by blessing the rains down in Africa. It got to the point that everyone was so busy doing something – from Tears For Fears Sowing The Seeds Of Love, to ‘Weird Al’ Yankovic urging us all to Dare To Be Stupid – that all that was left for Yes to do was lament being the Owner Of A Lonely Heart. In retrospect, it’s no wonder that Genesis deemed yours to be a Land Of Confusion. “In fact, I’ll even prove my point to you, by selecting our travel tune from the hit singles of the Billboard Top 40 music charts for the 1980s. Searching history files … scanning … match located. Human musical artist Jane Wiedlin, former rhythm guitarist of the Go-Gos, with her hit single ‘Rush Hour’, from her 1988 album ‘Fur’. Song peaked at 9th place on the Billboard Top 40 music charts on June 11th, 1988, and remained on the Billboard Top 40 music charts for a total of ten weeks. A perfect selection, if I do say so myself.” Goldeneyed: “And that’s gonna be our ‘travel tune’ for this trip? Great, I get to listen to the mewlings of an ex-Go-Go. No, really, thanks a lot. Way to make the prospect of having my mind and soul devoured alive by the Hero Lurkers seem appealing.” GlitchedGadgetRiotgrrlRobot!: “Hey, you know, if the travel accommodations don’t suit you, I’m sure that a resourceful individual such as yourself could locate plenty of other transportation options.” Goldeneyed: “Ouch. I’m beginning to see why Ultra Magnus and the other Autobots might have had some problems with your attitude.” GlitchedGadgetRiotgrrlRobot!: “Believe it or not, I’m being nice right now. If I didn’t like you, by now I would have broken out a few of the harsher human obscenities that Dream taught me.” The LudicrousLuminousKineticKid! raised its hand to silence the black-clad teen hero with the glowing golden eyes, and the orange and green-painted futuristic motorcycle upon whose seat the teleporting Lair Legionnaire clutched the handlebars and revved the engine in preparation. It then pointed directly at both driver and motorcycle, signaling the Cybertronian Transformer vehicle to squeal her tires, at high speed, directly in reverse, taking her unsuspecting superhuman passenger completely by surprise, as a Nagasaki of indescribable colors exploded around the three dimensionally displaced superheroes, and they soon found themselves in the midst of a featureless void, which for some strange reason reminded Goldeneyed of a blank sheet of typing paper, until the LudicrousLuminousKineticKid! touched its hand to the smiley-face symbol emblazoned on the GlitchedGadgetRiotgrrlRobot’s! fuel tank, his Impossibilityium-based chronal energies allowing her to release the chronal charge with which Sir Mumphrey Wilton had imbued her own Impossibilityium alloy of construction, thereby sending both passenger and vehicle zooming through the space-time continuum, blurry images whizzing past their field of vision as the stereo’s speakers surrounded them with the synthesized strains of Eighties pop music, and Jane Wiedlin’s own alluring bubble-gum vocals. Somethin’s comin’ over me … In the beginning, when the universe was still new, the Janus were already old, and they were entrusted with the keys of the dimensional doors, which kept all the elements of existence separate, but one Janus, the one who would later call itself Doctor Xeno Phobia, was too inquisitive, and needed to understand the nature of those elements which it and the other Janus kept divided up into their neat little categories … and in its attempts to satisfy its curiosity, the Janus unlocked the doors, and unintentionally released all the forces of the Parodyverse, including the Impossibilityium which it would use to construct its own set of inter-dimensional doorways, and as a result of its crime – the crime of curiosity, of wanting to travel through the sacrosanct gates of creation in order to satisfy that curiosity, and of subsequently unleashing Chaos upon a universe that had previously been one of pure and perfect Order in the course of satisfying that curiosity, thereby transforming it into the Parodyverse that it has been ever after – the other Janus had no other choice but to cast the one Janus out, branding it with the ultimate shame, that of an individual identity, by naming it the GateTravelerGameTransformer!, the very first CrazySugarSuperHero! in all of existence. I’m so dizzy I can’t see … In the Time when Time was still new to the Earth, the ageless age which Native American tribes speak of in their stories, the man who would come to be known as Charles “Charlie” Smiling Coyote, the SacredClownSmilingCoyote!, used his gifts as the Wild’s agent of primordial Chaos and Creation to outsmart Grandmother Spider, the mad Weaver Queen of Order, and to betray his lowly Brother Worm, his kindred spirit of Chaos and his balancing force as the bringer of Destruction, engendering the deep-seated grudges that continue to exist to this day, before he became the teacher of the tribes of man, instructing humanity through his own mistakes. Can’t make out … In an Ancient Age Long Undreamt Of By Mortal Men For Many Millennia, Upchukk the Uproarious, the h----HoneyBerserkerBarbarian!, ruled over the post-Atlantean kingdoms of man, beating back the obscene hordes of the Ab-Men with his holy war mallet of impossibly impervious Luni Tunz metal, and recording the exploits of his people in a bizarre form of pictographs, eventually printed on bound leaflets of papyrus, whose much sought-after entertainment value led their becoming the currency of his lands. The forest for the tress … In the legendary Greek age of heroes, Parodysseus Paradoxterix, the LuckyLustfulDementedDemigod!, and his loyal band of Dorkonauts, went to the Underworld and back, quite literally, to retrieve the sacred tome whispered of as the Golden Joke Book, so that the stand-up philosopher could use the comedic material in his routines, but he discovered a far greater prize, in the form of his newfound love, the minxy witch Medea … whose children preserved and furthered their mother’s ancestral lineage of women ever devoted to Demon Lovers, generation after generation, as was their inheritance as daughters of the House of Darkness. My heart is beatin’ faster now … In Arabian Nights past, Iblis Ibn al-Hazred, the JourneyingJinniTreasureThief!, inherited from his father, the Necronomicon author known only as the Mad Arab Adbul Alhazred, a collection of mystic artifacts whose incredible power made them, and the Mad Arab’s son, attractive targets to the forces of darkness, even as the orphaned purse-snatcher somehow managed to outwit the evil beings at every turn, thanks in no small part to the Chaotic Spirit of Pure Impossibility that was bound inside his father’s old lamp, who never tired of reminding young Iblis, often in song, that, “You ain’t NEVER had a friend like me.” As the traffic’s slowin’ down … In the age of valiant princes and damsels in distress, Sir William of Wonkham, the BabblingBardJesterJouster!, maintained his code of knightly chivalry, and added to it his own unique vow to make play out of his crusades, even as he slew foul beasts, rescued fair maidens, and outwitted the wiles of malefic magicians, chronicling all of his adventures in song and verse as he lived through them, and pioneering such eternal poetic phrases as, “Thine Asse shalt beith as Grasse, and I, like upon unto yon righteous Lawnmowere, so go ahead – maketh my day, Punk!” Suddenly … In Renaissance Italy, Dante de Zanni, the MerryHereticHarlequinMask!, used his enchanted actor’s masks to become a master of disguise, outwitting the agents of the Inquisition, fighting for right on the seedy streets of Florence, and atoning for the sins of his accursed ancestors past, all as he and his traveling theater company of the ‘Lair of Hilarity’ toured throughout Europe, ensuring that, no matter how powerful their political opponents or how close the local constabulary was to capturing them, the show would ALWAYS go on for the humble peasant folk that they entertained. I’m all alone with you … In Feudal Japan, Kuno Kitsune, the BakaGaijinHanumanRonin!, led the life of a masterless samurai, upholding his own code of honor, to protect the weak and defend the innocent, even as his former disciples, the Thunder Monkey-Worshipping Brotherhood, became the feared and pitiless assassins known as … the Ass-Raping Ninjas Student Loan Collection Agency, who would become the sworn arch-enemies of all future CrazySugarSuperHeroes! thereafter. Feel it gettin’ hot in here … On the choppy tempest of the Atlantic, from the coasts of pre-revolution France to the shores of the colonial Americas, Wesley Valentine, the JollyJauntySweetmeatSwashbuckler!, engaged the forces of spoiled royalty in rapier duels, robbed from the fattened coffers of the greedy wealthy through his acts of high seas piracy, and giggled with glee all the while, as he and his loyal seafaring musketeers ever upheld their credo of, “Fun for all, and all for fun!” Feel me gettin’ close to you, dear … On the high plains and dangerous frontier lands of the post-Civil War American West, Jezebel “Jesse” O’Hare, the LocoQuick-DrawSarsaparillaOutlaw!, posed as a man and drew her pistols for the cause of justice, standing up for settlers, immigrant laborers, and Redskins alike, even when the local lawmen were dead set against seeing them get their fair due, but before too long, all those who had done wrong learned to fear the thunder of her unstoppable guns. Slow motion … In Victorian London, Phineas Quimby, the EccentricEtherInvestigatorInventor!, ran his own detective agency, solving mysteries and pursuing nefarious rascals through the fog-cloaked city streets with the aid of his astounding mechanical contrivances, which were powered by the mysterious Ether of Improbability that he had discovered, and he even went on to serve a term in the League of Improbable Gentlemen, a collection of fellow extraordinary crime-fighters, before disappearing into the void of the unknown himself. Movin’ you, movin’ me … At the turn of the century, the safari expedition ship containing Shauna Naughton, the daughter of the famous zoologist and botanist, as well as the girl who would come to be known as Sha-Na-Na, the QueerJumbledJungleQueen!, crashed upon the rocky shores of the Savage Park, a hidden island where the flora and fauna of all the eras in Earth’s history co-mingled, from the dinosaurs of the Triassic period to the ancestors of mankind who had died out during the Ice Age, and it was in this lost world that Sha-Na-Na acquired honey-yellow skin and uncanny abilities of mind and body from eating the sugary-sweet native fruits, eventually becoming queen of all the tribes that inhabited this strange realm. Now your lips are touchin’ mine … In the wake of the First World War, Gabriel Ravenscroft, the CacklingCappuccinoSupernaturalSleuth!, was so horrified by the degree of meaningless death that he had seen as a soldier that he abandoned his family fortune and his father’s lucrative medical practice, journeying to the Far East to study with Oriental mystics, and returning to America as a forensics examiner in the city’s police department, with a secret identity as a shadowy urban avenger during the night … one who was now sought out by that dedicated adversary of the CrazySugarSuperHero! line, the Ass-Raping Ninjas, whom he had encountered in his travels to Asia. And in your eyes, I see them shine … Shortly before the bombing of Pearl Harbor pulled the United States into the Second World War, rugged archaeologist and anthropologist Terrence “Terry” Lucas, the CrazySugarBlast-OffLad!, unearthed the ancient jet-pack, helmet and shield that he would wear as a high-flying invader of Japanazi territory, rocketeering alongside the Golden Age Hatman, Sgt. Dan Drury and his Prowling Commandos of Sleazy Company, his sidekick, U.S. Army Air Corps Corporal Charles “Charlie” Smiling Coyote, and his future wife, U.S. Naval Reserve WAVES Ensign Patricia Pike, as they pushed back the Axis aggression of Baron Zemo, Count Wolfgang Fokker, and Molestro the Mirthless, sensei supreme of both the Ass-Raping Ninjas AND the Sinister Oriental Stereotypes (SOS), before Terry and Pat faded from view as the Red Menace began to loom. Honey, I know … During the height of the Fifties Cold War paranoia, British intelligence operative and atomic scientist Ian Isaac Bradbury, the AutisticAtomicSci-FiSpy!, used his nuclear energy-related powers and charm with the ladies to foil the diabolical plots of the global terrorist organization, S.O.D.O.M.Y., employing the periodic technological aid of Doctor Xeno Phobia, an anonymous scientist who apparently manufactured top-secret military weapons for the United States government, even as the sugar-addicted secret agent occasionally found time to trade both blows and bedroom liaisons with the Cobra, a slinky and sinister mercenary assassin from the Sect of Buto, who was often employed by S.O.D.O.M.Y. to carry out their nefarious ends. Just where you’re takin’ me … In the decade before the Apollo crew landed on the Moon, crack-shot astrophysicist Carter Armstrong, the CrazySugarCosmicIconoclast!, flew an experimental rocket ship into outer space to investigate an inexplicable phenomenon occurring just above Earth’s atmosphere, and was infused with the energies which the Janus had sought to return to their proper little container ever since the birth of the universe, but instead of demanding that Armstrong return the Impossibilityium he had inadvertently stolen from them, the Janus appointed him the leader of an existence-spanning CrazySugarCosmicIconoclastCollective!, whose mission it would be to maintain Order in the Chaos that was the Parodyverse, against such threats as the Plant People and other would-be universe conquerors … but as Armstrong’s supervillain arch-enemy, Doctor Xeno Phobia, the Extraterrestrial Enigma, realized all too well, agents of Chaos CAN’T maintain Order, simply by the nature of who and what they are, and the CrazySugarCosmicIconoclastCollective! nearly destroyed the universe, before it was mercifully disbanded. It’s so good … In the blaxploitation and monster movie-dominated era of the swingin’ seventies, a black private dick who was a sex machine to all the chicks, Ebony Koffey, the MachoMartial-ArtsDemonicDetective!, used the powers he had gained from being forced to bargain with Mefrothto, the then-Prince of Fibs, to save the lives of his loved ones, and subsequently rebelled against his infernal master, explaining his actions by telling the absolute incarnation of all evil in existence that, “ain’t NOBODY my ‘Massa’, you fruity-ass honky hornhead muthaf*cka,” as he dispatched countless legions of Mefrothto’s minions back to the pit with his trademark kung-fu kicks and karate chops, as well as the signature catch phrase, “‘Absolute evil’ my black ASS, bitch.” Baby, when you’re at the wheel … In the post-Vietnam years of Reaganomics and Rambo, hard-bitten veteran and highly decorated police officer Howard M. Murdock, the InsaneCaffeineRevengeSoldier!, volunteered for a highly classified genetic experiment, which endowed him with powerful physical mutations, thereby allowing him to finally do what he had always wanted to do, and clean up the grim and gritty metropolis, purifying it of its crime and corruption by donning a leather smiley-face mask and firing quips at hoodlums, dirty cops, and greedy officials, before shooting them all in the head … he did a pretty comprehensive job of it, too, before he was tracked down, and ultimately defeated, by the backroom machinations of the Order of Order. I can’t believe the way I feel … In the mercifully brief decade of comic book collecting when Rob Liefeld was king of the hill, the nameless refugee from a possible alternate future, the RetroRebootWastelandsWanderer!, traveled back in time to the modern day, to prevent the world from becoming the hellish, post-apocalyptic nightmare he had grown up in, which was composed of equal parts Mad Max and The Terminator, except that every action he took in the present day affected the history he had originated from in the future, so that he was constantly and unintentionally revising his own continuity with every move he made, becoming an effect of his own cause, perpetually “retconning” HIMSELF as he tirelessly struggled to save the future, retroactively acquiring a battle-scarred eye, a techno-organic arm, and an indecipherably complicated origin story – becoming the ConfusedContinuityWastelandsWanderer!, the OrigamiOriginWarpedWarrior!, and the PossiblePostapocalypticTimestreamTwister!, among countless others – until the moment that he had at last eliminated any possibility of the reality he had known coming true … and, as a logical consequence of succeeding in his lifelong mission, he erased himself from existence, before he’d ever had a chance to come into being. It’s such a rush … Shortly before the turn of the millennium, estranged siblings Dreamcatcher Kokopelli Foxglove and his younger sister, Gwendolyn “Wendy” Leslie, became the twin inheritors of the Impossibilityium’s trickster legacy, as CrazySugarFreakBoy! and PsychoAcidPervGirl!, the agents of Creative and Destructive Chaos, respectively, just in time for them to witness the reemergence of the Order of Order, led by The Word and his daughter, Priestess Pelopia, the Disciple of Logos, setting the vicious cycle of Wild, Weaver and Worm into motion once more. Just bein’ with you … Glitch saw herself, as the GlitchedGadgetRiotgrrlRobot!, assuming the mantle of her immediate predecessor, Dreamcatcher Foxglove, when he stepped down, and even glimpsed quick snippets from her own future, as she and her fellow Autobots fought against her soon-to-be Decepticon adversary, the ImmatureAnimeArtificialIntelligence! … we’re drivin’ in the Rush Hour. Not long afterwards, Glitch glimpsed Dream’s daughter, Iris Paintbrush Foxfire, inheriting her father’s connection to the Impossibilityium with the onset of puberty, and donning the costume of the HyperActiveLunaticLass!, juggling all the typical trials of an adolescent girl trying to survive the high school academic and social scene, along with the added pressures of learning how to fight costumed criminals, as well how to come to terms with her own homosexuality. Oooh, you send me … And yet, still ahead of all these blurring images, always waiting at the end of the line, always one step faster, was the LudicrousLuminousKineticKid!, the ultimate culmination of the CrazySugarSuperHero! line and the Impossibilityium’s trickster legacy … because the LudicrousLuminousKineticKid! WAS all of it its predecessors, all of the tricksters and CrazySugarSuperHeroes! ever to wear the orange and green smiley face, all bound up into one body, one form, one mind, one soul. The genderless being, composed of pure Impossibilityium, resided in Entropolis, the city at the end of time and space that existed on the splice mark between the end and the beginning of the Parodyverse, where all of creation looped back to the starting point like a song on an 8-track, passing on his wisdom to the students at Utopia University, the university at the end of the universe, which Doctor Xeno Phobia had founded so that the residents of all times and places and possible realities in existence could come together. You take it to the Rush Hour … “This is your stop,” the LudicrousLuminousKineticKid! said, continuing to race on ahead as it motioned Goldeneyed and the GlitchedGadgetRiotgrrlRobot! off towards one of the rapidly approaching blurs of imagery, where strangely familiar superheroes were struggling to contain a rampaging menace in what could only be considered a true City of Tomorrow, and with a squealing screech of her motorcycle tires, the GlitchedGadgetRiotgrrlRobot! made a high-speed, hard left turn, and managed to steer herself into the shimmering portal only after the centrifugal forces had nearly thrown Goldeneyed off of his seat, and the acrid stench of burning rubber had become nauseatingly thick under his nose. Oooh, you send me … A sudden jarring jolt, a shift in the hum of reality, as both passenger and vehicle shattered through the transparent barrier separating them from the City of Tomorrow, materializing in mid-air at an incredibly high altitude above the costumed crimefighters’ battle down below, soaring in a brief arc above the dauntingly tall skyscrapers, before gravity took control and they began their quick and dizzying descent into the sprawling metropolis that spread out in all directions beneath them – a frighteningly fast acceleration to ground level that was interrupted when what resembled a yo-yo fired out of the back of motorcycle’s seat, looping around one of the atmosphere-piercing spires and swinging both Goldeneyed and the GlitchedGadgetRiotgrrlRobot! around in a loop, the grappling line detaching from passenger and vehicle only after it had redirected their momentum, flinging them away to deflect against a seemingly randomly chosen monolithic structure, so that the motorcycle’s resilient tires could ricochet them safely off the sides of a succession of nearby buildings, until they had reached the sector of intersecting streets where the Lair Legion of Super-Heroes were channeling all of their tremendous energy into safeguarding every last one of the civilian pedestrians and bystanders in the area from the threat of one of their most fearsome foes to date. “It’s a Brave New World,” Glitch shouted to Bry, grinning as she transformed into robot mode and charged into the thick of combat, acting on her first impulse without hesitation, as always. “All we’ve got to do is live through it.” … you got me in the Rush Hour. This was just the opening act, folks. Watch for the future installments of this Untold Tale Tie-In from Goldeneyed, Amazing Guy and the Hooded Hood himself. After all, it simply goes without saying that a story like this is “To Be Continued …” A Quick Snippet Offered By ... CrazySugarFreakBoy! (Ha! Thought I Was Gonna Say "The Hooded Hood", Didn't You?) |
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