38 - Here We Go Again

Deep, deep in the shadows of the Tropic of Cancer, a gathering of criminals meets for a high stakes card game. The grog flows freely tonight, and more than likely, the blood will soon follow suit.

"You know what I don’t get?" asks Teck Nique, a sword weilding love child from another dimension.

"What?" asks a large muscular monster called Invisi-Bull.

"How come you never see big groups of Stalkers hanging out much?"

"We don’t really play well with others. Lone killers, that’s our M.O.," growls a cat faced girl named Pizzicato Polecat.

"Arr, t’would be nice ta have a crew beside me inna fight," the bar’s owner, Flatbeard says.

"I mean, why not?" Teck Nique says. "I mean, Brutes head butt each other to say hello. Corruptors share in the suffering of others. Masterminds make their minions do unsightly things to show off, and Dominators…."

The rest of the table nods. They‘ve all heard what Dominators do when they get together.

"Got any sevens?" Invisi-Bull asks.

"Go fish." Polecat says.

"Bloody hell! More grog!"

Meanwhile in Independence Port, a gathering of heroes is taking place.

"Tell me again why coming here was a good idea?" Flatfoot says, remembering the last time he was in this part of town.

"Look, we’re just here to put the squeeze on the Family. They’ve been getting bolder lately," Teckstyle says.

"So? Can’t some other guy handle it? Isn’t Manticore all ‘street level’ and everything?"

"Last I remember, you were street level too."

"No way man, that whole Hamidon thing just about made me cosmic level and you know it. I can’t be wasting my time with hoodlums anymore."

"Well if that’s how you feel, we can always go back to the Shard."

"Though like I’ve always said, its good to get back to your roots every once in a while…"

Back at the Tropic of Cancer, the card game’s been completely discarded.

"I’ll tell you wha’ I think," Tecknique slurs.

"Go for it," Invisi-bull says from under the table.

"I shay we show ‘em all what a team of stalkers can do. We gotta deshtroy shomthin’ big."

"Like what?"

"…I dunno."

Back in Independence Port, Flat & Teck marvel at just how easily the Family bust went down.

"That was, like, what, five minutes?" Teck asks, looking at his watch.

"Something like that," Flat says, scratching his head. "I don’t get it. I remember these guys being tougher. I mean, obviously not pants-wetting inducing danger, because I would never, never, never, ever do that in the face of peril, not even that one time in the sewers where those demons were coming right out of the walls and wailing the unearthly cries of the damned. Although that was pretty scary, in retrospect-"

"Flat?"

"What?"

"Nobody cares about your bladder control."

"My doctor cares. Hey, wait. You’re a doctor, that must mean you care! Hippocratic Oath and everything."

"I’m not a doctor."

"Oh, your mouth says no, but your eyes say ‘Why yes, I do in fact have a degree.’"

"I’m wearing a HELMET! You CAN’T SEE my EYES!"

"That’s deep."

"Why are you behaving so…what’s the word?"

"Antsy?"

"Typical. Why are you so typical today?"

"I’m bored. Fighting crime’s been a walk in the park lately."

"…How bored?"

"I’m thinking of getting my Academic Badge."

"Ouch."

"Yeah."

"You could always hunt Fake Nemesises instead."

"That doesn’t sound right."

"You don’t want that badge?"

"Its not that. It sounds like it should be Nemesii."

"That doesn’t sound right either."

"So…you don’t know the plural of Nemesis?"

"I thought you did."

"Didn’t think I’d need to. I mean, you can only have ONE nemesis, right? That’s what makes them special," Flat says, rubbing his chin in thought.

"Well then, take your frustration out on all those Fake Nemesisisess."

"Nah," Flat says. "Already got that badge last week."

"Flat," Teck says, pointing to the forehead of his helmet. "Right here is a throbbing vein. I’m telling you this, because you cannot see it under my helmet, but I assure you, its there."

"Hey!" Flat snaps his fingers, ignoring Teck. "I’ve got an idea. Let’s do a task force or something!"

"Eh. You can only fight the Clockwork King so many times before it gets old."

"Well…you wanna stand around outside the Icons here? I’ll bring my boom box."

Teck thinks about this for a moment. "Sounds good."

Meanwhile, in the Tropic of Cancer…

"Hsss!" Pizzocato Polecat purrs. "I hate that Atlas statue. We could torch that."

"No way," Invisibull says, waving his hands. "No way I’m going near Ms. Liberty again. Not worth the risk." He pats his horns tenderly, remembering the pain.

"Whattabout the Arena in Galaxshy?" Tecknique asks, his head rolling around on the table.

"Bah, what’s the point? Nobody goes there!" Pizzocato snarls. "I say we tear down Galaxy Girl instead."

"What is it with you and statues?" Invisibull asks.

Tecknique raises a hand from the table. "Edifice complex."

"Arrr," Flatbeard says, interrupting the conversation. "Ye be thinkin’ way to small. We be needin’ somethin’ huge, somethin’ vulnerable, somethin’ prone to serious mechanical failure…"

Meanwhile, in Independence…

Teckstyle leans against the wall of Icons, arms crossed. Flatfoot walks up, places a boom box down on the ground and looks at Teck.

"Yeah…" Teck says, leaving the wall. "I could run a trial team. I mean, why not me? I can destroy people single-handedly. I shoot energy at people. No I don’t know what kind, stop interrupting me, blue boy. I’ve got the skills to do it. [Censored], I could do it all by myself if I wanted to. But I’m not gonna do that. People gotta know what an awesome leader I am. We need a posse! But where…? Cue up some thinking music, Flatso, I need to meditate on this!"

Flat leans down and turns on the boom box. Teck pauses and looks straight ahead.

"Oh, that’s meaty," he says, and starts to do the Chicken Dance.

Flat starts dancing behind him.

Back in the Tropic Of Cancer

"You mean…Terra Volta?" Invisibull asks. "The reactor?"

"Why not? Its perrrrrfect."

"Arrr, that cliché be older than me granddad’s hemorrhoids, Pizzo," Flatbeard says.

"But the plashe ish crawlin’ with Freakshow, an’ Shkyraidersh, " Tecknique says.

"Ye be forgettin’ that we be experts at the unseen arts."

"Oh. Yeah…"

Back in Independence…

"I’ve got it! The perfect place to recruit heroes desperate for work!" Teck shouts. "The Hollows!" He pauses. "Man, what is with you and that green ray gun, Flatipus? I don’t need any healing."

"Got it from Crey’s Pointier Image catalogue."

"Well do you have to keep whipping it out while I’m dancing?"

"Hey, I could’ve gotten the air purifier instead… It clears up animal dander."

"This conversation’s over. Yo! Taxibot!"

Meanwhile, unseen by the two heroes below, a pair of nebulous, glowing shapes hover high in the air.

"Are you sure these are the two?" the darker purple shape asks.

"You have seen the vision yourself. These are the two." the light blue shape answers.

"…Are you SURE you’re sure?"

"YES."