24 - Dance Dance Rularuu

Pocket D, an inter-dimensional watering hole created by the mysterious DJ Zero. Flatfoot stands near the bathroom looking out the windows at the alien landscape beyond. Someone walks out of the bathroom behind him.

"All done," Deadfoot says.

"Hey, if you’re dead how do you have to--never mind, I don’t want to know," Flat says. He’s been allowed to take his alternate reality self to Pocket D in the hope of finding someone from his home dimension, and hopefully to send the brute back home.

"So where’s your sidekick?" Deadfoot asks.

"You mean Teck? Last I heard he was doing some hush-hush stuff for the government over in the Shadow Shard," Flat says.

"Man, I hated that place."

"Yeah, I couldn’t go, something about being a security risk and all that."

"That’s bull." The brute shakes his head.

"So, find anyone from your dimension yet?" Flat asks.

"Nope."

"That’s a shame. I was hoping we’d get you out of here tonight."

"Why’s that?" Deadfoot asks.

"Well, I mean, its not that I don’t like hanging out with myself, I do, but, well…its just that I think that this dimension can only handle so many versions of myself."

"So…me being technically undead doesn’t bother you?"

"No, no, no, no, maybe, I mean, no. No, I just think that we should evenly distribute the sheer awesomeness that is me, us, whatever."

"Then don’t get shot by quantum weapons."

Flat shrugs and looks out the big glass window. "Funny, this place certainly does look a lot like the Shadow Shard..."

When there’s no answer, Flat turns around to see Deadfoot over on the dance floor busting a move in front of a female stalker.

Flat sighs and goes up to the second floor of the dance hall, buys a drink and leans against a wall next to the railing, looking down.

"What dimension are we in?" Flat asks a woman in green and black hair.

"Pocket D, same as the name of the club," she answers.

"Oh, that helps. Thanks," Flat says sarcastically.

"Hey, cheer up, its not like you just found out that an alternate version of yourself is recently dead and still more popular than you," she says.

Flat looks down at the dance floor, where a large crowd of women have gathered appreciatively around Deadfoot. "You have no idea…"

"Oh, you brought your alternate version with you here? That’s…nice."

"What? No! Its not like that!" Flat says. "Apparently I have this condition where quantum energy yanks alternate reality versions of me to my own dimension. Case in point…" he says, pointing to the dancing brute. "I’m actually trying to find any others who might’ve been pulled through. Though, um, not with much success."

"Well I’ll keep my eyes open for any tall, dumb and average-looking guys."

"Thanks for offering and all but--wait, average looking?" Flat says.

The woman nods.

Flat shrugs. "I’ll take it. Say, I don’t think I caught your name."

"Its War W-"

A commotion down on the dance floor catches their attention. "Oh no…" Flat says.

"Hey Mr. Flatfoot!" Kid Flatfoot says, running up to Deadfoot. "I got these nifty two-way communications watches so we can call each other up if we spot a crime!"

Deadfoot’s pupil-less eyes go wide in horror. "No! Noooo!" He screams, starting to step back. "Get him away from me!!!"

"Are you being mind controlled again, Mr. Flatfoot?"

Deadfoot howls in terror and begins running around club at super speed. Kid Flat takes off after him, shouting "Don’t worry Mr. Flatfoot, I’ll catch you so we can undo that mind control!" Several tables get turned over in the chase, along with countless glasses being shattered by the sonic booms generated by the speedsters.

Flat sighs and turns apologetically to the green haired woman, who’s already gone back to the bar for a refill. He frowns, then looks out at the giant window. A small dark shape is flying toward it. As it gets closer, flat notices that its very small and lumpy, with a pair of bat-like wings.
The creature smacks into the window at full speed and slowly slides down. It’s a Natterling holding a small white sign that says "Happy Valentine’s Day, Flat!!"