All around the city, the villains prepared for their final plans. Elvin Clovar sulked in the factory of Doctor Mandroid, his zombies having lost to the robots and the terms of their agreement stating that he would serve under Doctor Mandroid in the coming battles. Elvin Clovar, too late, realized he shouldn’t have trusted another villain and probably could have gotten out of Doctor Mandroid’s terms had he remembered that the terms weren’t defined until after the battle. The robot factory had picked up production, creating an army of robots which dwarfed that which had been at Belle Isle. Zombies, too, were being created, their numbers nearly matching those of the robots. Still, Elvin Clovar sulked, wishing nothing more than to go back to creating minor mischief and sitting in his basement eating Funyuns.
A robot walked up to him, his movements more fluid, and Elvin recognized this as Doctor Mandroid’s nameless robotic companion.
The robot spoke, “Our lord and master is resting, but there is work to be done. We must modify the factory to sustain production. Are these plans agreeable?”
Thus spake Elvin Clovar, “Yeah. Sure. Make it look like a skull, too.”
“What purpose does this serve?” said the robot.
“It serves the purpose of making this place awesome,” said Elvin Clovar.
At the bar, Black Raven perched on the bar, holding the Wiper up by his collar.
“You let him get away,” said Black Raven, “I had to send out one of my men to clean up your mistake!”
“He was just a kid,” said the Wiper, “Around here, we don’t do that sort of thing to kids.”
Black Raven grimaced, his teeth grinding, and he hurled the Wiper into Bootman.
Bootman whispered, “I’ll give ‘em the boot, I will.”
The Wiper coughed, wiping blood from the corner of his mouth, “Not yet.”
Novacaine had been given the task of finalizing the coming of Kumbiya, and had brought Chuckles Fairbanks and Amos Andrew, America’s Fastest Growing Criminal, to aid him. Shadow Beast and Club arrived with Liana Koleyna, who brought with her one of her father’s Native American heirlooms.
“You should have seen the looks on their faces,” said Shadow Beast, “It was priceless.”
“I care not for your mirth, simply deliver to me his blood so that the rite can be completed,” said Novacaine, “And the two of you, give me the tokens of your religious beliefs.”
Amos handed over a crucifix, and Chuckles a small statue of Buddha. Koleyna only had a dream-catcher, and hoped it would be enough. Club gave him a vial of Night Rabbit’s blood. Novacaine took them all and threw them into a pile in the middle of a giant golden ring, the vial of blood shattering and pouring over the other items.
“You must leave now. None can see what it is that I am about to do,” said Novacaine.
The other villains left. Koleyna asked, “I thought Kumbiya was a space minotaur. Why do you need to conduct a sacred rite to bring him here? Why not just use technology?”
“Novacaine is a quirky man,” said Shadow Beast, “We don’t argue.”
***
At the headquarters of the Astounding Superhero Syndicate, Mark King had just made his announcement, disbanding the team. All the heroes turned to him, especially the Can.
“Night Rabbit just got tossed off a roof,” said the Can.
Mark King looked at him and narrowed his eyes, activating the microscopic vision that was his sole superpower.
“Whoa!” he said, lurching back in surprise, “He needs medical attention!”
El Scientist Magnifico was summoned, carrying with him a device designed to safely transport victims of spinal trauma. He activated it and Night Rabbit was enveloped in a blue aura, rising off the ground. The Can grabbed the device and ran into headquarters, unknowingly knocking Night Rabbit against so many walls. El Scientist Magnifico chased him, all the time petitioning the Can to slow down, with Land Captain and Mark King following behind.
“We just passed Connor’s office,” shouted Mark King.
The Can realized that Connor, being a doctor, or at least wanting to be a doctor, would probably be the best person to go to. He turned, ramming Night Rabbit into a potted plant, and banged on the door. After three solid minutes of knocking on the door, Connor said, “Why did you keep knocking? I opened it on your third knock.”
The Can grabbed him by his shirt, “Night Rabbit’s been hurt!”
Connor looked at the prone figure floating in blue and nodded, knowingly, “I think I know what the problem is. He’s been frozen by a basilisk, yes?”
“No! He was thrown off a roof,” said the Can.
“By a basilisk?” said Connor, “They don’t have any arms, you know. I don’t think you know what you’re talking about.”
“It wasn’t a stupid basilisk,” said the Can, “I think! There may have been a basilisk involved at some point, but then he was thrown off a roof.”
“He was then thrown into walls by a madman,” said El Scientist Magnifico, angrily.
“When did that happen?” said the Can, “Can you help him, doc?”
Connor nodded and stepped to the side, “Bring him in. I’ll see what I can do.”
Two hours of poking and prodding later, Connor the Wanna-Be Doctor delivered his diagnosis, “I don’t know what’s wrong with him. Are you sure no basilisks were involved?”
Land Captain sat in a chair, becoming increasingly annoyed with his choice of team, “Let’s just take him to a real doctor.”
“I am a real doctor,” snapped Connor, pointing to the framed certificates on the wall. None of them were from actual universities, and all bore titles saying that Connor was able to practice medicine on any Federation planet and things like that.
“Just the same, I’d like a second opinion,” said Land Captain.
“Me too,” said the Can, “I’d also like a first opinion.”
“If this other doctor doesn’t back up my basilisk diagnosis, I’ll eat my hat,” said Connor.
“You don’t have a hat,” said Mark King.
“I’ll bake one and eat it, then,” said Connor.
“If you’re as good a baker as you are a doctor, I’ll accept that,” said Land Captain.
***
Clyde, El Scientist Magnifico, and Justice-Bot sat in the lab, boxing up test tubes and all that. El Scientist Magnifico had to stop packing every few minutes to stifle back tears.
“I won’t know what to do with myself,” said El Scientist Magnifico, “I have been with Senor King’s organizations for more than twenty years.”
“I’m sure you’ll find something,” said Justice-Bot.
“Photogra-She can probably help find something for you,” broadcast Clyde.
“I refuse to believe you two are dating,” said Justice-Bot.
“Jealous?” broadcast Clyde, doing his best to send with it a feeling of smugness.
“No. I just don’t see what she sees in you,” said Justice-Bot.
“Why? Because I’m a giant floating embryo, you jerk-ass?” broadcast Clyde.
“No,” replied Justice-Bot calmly, “You’re foul-mouthed and you keep trying to smoke and drink.”
“Whatever,” broadcast Clyde, “You’re just jealous. Hold on, I’m picking up psychic cries of distress. There’s an ass-ton of zombies and robots roaming the city and attacking things.”
“We can’t do anything, not until the paperwork goes through,” said El Scientist Magnifico, “Our hands are tied.”
“No they aren’t, father,” said Justice-Bot, “You built me for peace, for justice, and I’m going to do something about those robots!”
“What about the zombies?” said Clyde.
“I’ll see what I can do about them,” said Justice-Bot, running out the door.
***
Land Captain, Mark King, the Can, and Connor pulled up to the offices of Doctor Bob Smith. The quartet hopped out and pulled Night Rabbit from the trunk. The Can activated the device and a blue aura engulfed the fallen hero, and soon he was on Doctor Smith’s counter. Doctor Smith, a perfectly normal looking man, emerged from a backroom, his bottom half unseen, but the sounds of hooves emanating from behind the counter. He took one look at Night Rabbit.
“Why did you just throw a corpse on my counter,” asked Doctor Smith.
“Dead by basilisk attack?” said Connor hopefully.
Doctor Smith leaned over, “No, it looks like he suffered severe spinal trauma, and then some fool kept smashing him into walls and poking him with things. He’s been dead for hours.”
“That Club did this,” said the Can, “I have to go bring him to justice.”
“There’s nothing you can legally do,” said Mark King, “Once the paperwork is filled out, anything heroics we perform is considered vigilantism.”
“Screw your paperwork,” said the Can, “Justice needs to be done!”
“You’re willing to break the law in order to uphold it,” said Land Captain, “That’s what being a hero is all about. Let’s go. We have a fallen comrade… no, a fallen friend to avenge.”
The Can smiled for the first time in what seemed like days, and he and Land Captain ran out of Doctor Smith’s office.
“I should probably call the police,” said Mark King, “Let them know some vigilantism is going to go down.”
“Before you do that, could you get this body off my counter?” said Doctor Smith.
Connor looked at him, “Are you a centaur?”
Doctor Smith laughed and walked into the backroom.
***
Black Raven stood atop the skull facade the robots had constructed and looked out at the city, smiling and thinking of the chaos that the robots and zombies were causing. He had sent out Club and Shadow Beast as well, and the Detroit villains had mostly decided to take advantage of the chaos. Only Elvin Clovar, still sulking, declined to join in. This was probably beneficial, as he was the source of the zombies. Novacaine’s ritual was probably nearly done as well.
“You know what they say,” said Black Raven, softly, “Today, Detroit. Tomorrow, the world!”
“How the hell did you get to be their leader?” said the Wiper, who had been beaten and tied up, “You’re just a thug in a costume. Your friends all have skills that make them better than you.”
Black Raven turned to the man he had brutalized, “That’s why. They’re obviously better than me, but I keep up. Besides, I killed the hero who I based myself off of. You have any idea what it’s like to kill the person you’ve based your entire gimmick off of? It’s at once the best and worst feeling in the world. Best, because you’ve finally proven yourself better. Worst, because there’s no reason left to keep doing what you’re doing. So now? Now I lead, I scheme. I swear to you, Wiper, by the time we’re done with this town we’ll show the world what we’re made of. Maybe we’ll kill all your lame heroes, too. Then, who knows? We could go back to Ohio, kill off the Neo-Bassets. Then off to Indiana to whack the Paragon People! After that, we’ll just get the straggler solo heroes. There’ll be literally nothing anyone can do.”
“There’ll always be others,” said the Wiper, “Other super-criminals like me who think you’re nothing but a glorified jerk.”
“We’ll kill them, too,” said Black Raven, “After that, maybe we’ll take on the Paci Custodis. Screw that Agreement, right? They’re just a bunch of guys with guns and whatever. We can take them. Who’s left after that? No one. Just a bunch of normal people.”
“There’s actually a bunch of people and creatures who would stand against you,” said the Wiper, “Seriously, even if you do get rid of the superheroes and anti-heroes and Paci Custodis, there’ll be an endless stream of people to stand in your way.”
Black Raven laughed, “We’ll just kill them all!”
The Wiper nodded and smiled, clarity finally setting in, “Oh! I get it! You’re completely insane! That makes all of this make so much more sense.”
***
The robots and zombies had already made their way throughout most of the city, so Justice-Bot didn’t have to travel far. The other robots were weak and poorly made, more likely made to overwhelm the city with their sheer numbers than to be individual threats. The zombies, on the other hand, were just as potent as a zombie could be. It didn’t really matter to Justice-Bot, however. He was easily able to defeat the robots, punching and kicking them away and using their various body parts as projectiles against the zombies, using his shield as needed. Then a robot stepped forward who was obviously better made. He carried with him a blaster, attached by holster to his wrist. Two others of the same design stepped forward, and all three robots took aim. As Justice-Bot stood in a cleared circle, atop the fallen bodies of his enemies, he knew that this was probably the end, but he would go down fighting. He leapt forward and kicked the center robot’s head off, and landed, readying his shield to hopefully block the blasts of the other two. One blast hit, but as the other blast came, a spiked bat came down upon the robot’s head, causing the shot to go off-course and the robot to crumple to the ground. Behind him, a tall black man in a long blackish-blue coat stood, fixing his captain’s hat.
“Robots don’t know shit ’bout watchin’ their backs,” said Captain Zimball, “Lucky for you I got back when I did. Saw a bunch of ‘bots and zombies walking around, thought to myself, ‘Shit, Tyrone, zombies? You got this in the bag.’” Captain Zimball stepped forward, offering his hand to Justice-Bot.
Justice-Bot took it gratefully and stood up, “Thanks.” He reached down and took two of the robots’ wrist blasters and attached them to his own wrists. He shot a robot and a zombie who were slowly approaching Zimball.
Captain Zimball smiled, “Name’s Zimball. Captain Zimball. You that Justice-Bot Mark King was all freaked about?”
“I sure am,” said Justice-Bot, “The Astounding Superhero Syndicate disbanded, you know. We’re not supposed to fight these things.”
Captain Zimball took his spiked club and swung it thoughtfully, “Day they keep me from something like this is the day they put me in the ground. Let’s kick some undead ass.”
Justice-Bot smiled, “I think we should go that way.”
“Why,” said Zimball, “Robot senses tell you that?”
“No, there’s just a big factory that looks like a skull,” said Justice-Bot, shooting a zombie.
“Good reason,” said Zimball, smashing a robot.
***
Jihad Man exploded, taking a bus shelter with him, looking towards City Hall. He took two steps forward, but a voice called out to him. He pulled two blades from his belt and turned, ready to attack.
“We’re here to help,” said Hanser, “Between us, we should be more than able to take out the government and name our heart’s desire.”
“Oui,” said Fromage Roi, “They shall bow to the King of Cheeses! As well as the two of you.”
“No, you capitalist pigs,” said Jihad Man, “Leave unless you want to meet my blades.”
“I’m a terrorist, too,” said Hanser, “Also, from your history, I believe you’ve had some troubles with the Astounding Superhero Syndicate. So have we.”
Jihad Man lowered his blades, “They are a thorn in my side. What do you suggest?”
“We take city hall and lure our enemies there by holding their government hostage,” said Hanser, “Between the three of us, it’ll be a simple job.”
Jihad Man pondered this, “So we don’t blow it up?”
“No, we’ll blow it up. We just wait until our enemies are within,” said Hanser.
Jihad Man grinned like a mad dog, “A good plan.”
***
Land Captain and the Can drove through the city, doing their best to avoid the zombie and robot attacks, trying to find the Club and Shadow Beast.
“For such a big guy, you’d think he would be easier to find,” said Land Captain, “We’ll find him, though.”
“Land Captain?” said the Can, gazing out the window.
“Yes?” said Land Captain.
“If I get killed, I need you to go find a girl named Clarissa and tell her Eugene says he’s sorry,” said the Can.
“We won’t be killed,” said Land Captain, “At least, I hope not.”
“Me too,” said a voice from the backseat.
Land Captain stopped the car suddenly, causing the person in the backseat to hit the seat in front of them.
“Ow!”
The Can turned, his Can-non armed and ready to fire, “Show yourself!”
Photogra-She let the brown cloth she had been hiding under fall to the floor of the car. She smiled sheepishly, “I just wanted to get pictures.”
“When did you get in the car?” said Land Captain.
“I’ve been here the whole time. I had to keep moving so Mister King and Connor wouldn’t feel me,” said Photogra-She, “I think Connor felt me, though. Then he kept feeling me.” She made a disgusted face and stuck out her tongue.
“Why are you here?” said the Can, disarming the Can-non.
“I wanted to take pictures,” said Photogra-She, holding up her camera, “If we are disbanded, then I’ll need to make my money somehow. I’ll need to find a place to live and all that.”
“Why don’t you just go live with Clyde?” asked the Can, “I’m sure he has something lined up.”
“Why would I do that?” snapped Photogra-She.
“Aren’t you and him dating?” said the Can.
“The nerve — ” started Photogra-She.
“Now, kids, is not the time. It’s gotten awfully dark,” said Land Captain.
“It is night,” said the Can.
“Even darker,” said Land Captain.
The windshield window developed a grinning face, and then it dissipated. While it was less dark, it did reveal that the Club was standing on the hood of the car and was pulling his massive fist back.
“Everyone out of the car!” screamed Land Captain.
The other two didn’t need to be told, and they had all escaped the Buick before Club’s fist came crashing through the window. Darkness engulfed them once more.
“The three little heroes, come to avenge their friend,” said Shadow Beast, his voice surrounding them, “You’ll see him soon enough!”
“It’s because we’ll be dead,” said the Can.
“I know!” said Land Captain, sharply, “I hear wings flapping.”
“So?” said the Can.
A hybrid flying-fish/piranha/mudskipper flew through the darkness, trying to bite the Can through his armor.
“Freak-fish!” said Land Captain, hitting another freak-fish out of the air.
“I’ll do what I can to help!” said Photogra-She, readying her camera, “I know all I can do is take perfect pictures, but that’s better than nothing!”
She snapped a photo of the Can and Land Captain fighting off the freak-fish, the camera’s flash went off, and the darkness wavered slightly. Shadow Beast gasped.
“Keep taking pictures!” said Land Captain, grabbing a fish and throwing it into another.
“Aye aye, Captain,” said Photogra-She, smiling. With every picture she took, the darkness wavered and eventually began to shrink. Shadow Beast became less an abstract form and more humanoid, though a rapidly shrinking one.
Photogra-She raised her camera one more time and said, “Smile!”
With the last flash, Shadow Beast vanished. Club, who was still pounding away on the car, noticed that what was basically his thinking-brain beast had vanished. He turned to the heroes and bellowed, a cry equal parts sadness and rage, and charged at them. Off to the side, Liana Koleyna waved her arms, causing more freak-fish to fly from their tanks at the heroes.
“Hey there, lover-boy,” said Liana Koleyna.
Land Captain scowled at her while dodging one of the Club’s attacks, “You lost the right to call me that when we broke up. Also, when you turned evil.”
The Can readied his Can-non and shot the Club with it, “This is for Night Rabbit!”
The Club was completely unfazed, turning his attention to the garbage can-clad hero.
“I’ve got an idea,” said Land Captain.
“Me too,” said the Can, quickly removing the body part of his costume. He held the can up and the Club punched into it, his fist breaking through the bottom and getting stuck. The Club began waving his arm and trying to pull off the garbage can.
“Self-repairing polymer, or something,” said the Can, “Do one of your judo moves on him.”
“It’s not judo, but I know what you’re saying,” said Land Captain. He darted between the Club’s legs, grabbed the man’s ankle, and used his own mass to propel the brute behind them, crashing into the tanks of freak-fish. The Can raised his fists and clenched them both, arming the Can-non. He did so again, and it let loose an immense electrical charge, which coupled with the water, incapacitated the brute.
Liana Koleyna stood looking at them in shock, then turned to run. Land Captain ran at her and managed to tackle her at the knees before she get anywhere. The pair fell to the ground, and within seconds, Liana Koleyna was cuffed.
“You weren’t into this sort of thing when we were dating,” said Koleyna.
“You’re under citizen’s arrest,” said Land Captain, “By the way? I’m seeing someone else now.”
“What?” said Koleyna, who lay on the ground, unmoving, as Land Captain stood up.
***
At City Hall, Ben Hanser walked through a room, semi-automatic weapon raised. Jihad Man stood in the middle of the room, meditating. Fromage Roi sat to the side, making a cheese platter dance around.
“How soon until they get here?” said Hanser, pointing his gun at a clerk.
“Soon! They didn’t say!” said the clerk.
“Wrong answer,” said Hanser, letting loose a burst of gunfire. The clerk fell, a woman screamed and fainted, and several people began crying. Then Hanser looked thoughtfully at the clerk’s body, nudged it with his foot, and said, “Then again, you can hardly be blamed for that. Too bad.”
“That’s the last life you’ll take!” said the Forgiver, kicking the door open. Go-To Guy and the European Branch stood behind him.
“Finally!” said Hanser, “We’ve been waiting for hours!”
“Half an hour,” said Fromage Roi, hopping off the table.
“I sincerely doubt all of us need to be here,” said Englishman.
“Englishman,” said Captain Monocle, hurriedly finding cover, “Look out!”
“Then again, you colonists probably don’t count. Leave this to — ” Englishman was cut off by a burst of gunfire from Hanser. He continued through gritted teeth, “Leave this to the real superheroes. Now then, who’s first?”
Englishman adopted his boxer’s stance. Britain Sandy leapt in front of him, solidifying her body so that Hanser’s next shot dropped harmlessly to the ground, “Move, you daft sod!”
“No need for such language,” said Englishman, “I say, is there any chance someone here knows medicine? Proper British medicine, of course.”
Hanser continued shooting while the Forgiver and Captain Monocle tried to get close enough to stop him. Go-To Guy, being invulnerable, aided Britain Sandy in keeping the bullets from doing anymore damage. The Scottish Boxman stepped through the door, pulling a boomerang out of a ring box, and he chucked it at Fromage Roi, who defended himself by hurling an uncut wheel of pepper-jack. The boomerang and pepper-jack met, and both fell to the floor, the pepper-jack in pieces. Fromage Roi raised his hands, causing the bits of pepper-jack to rise as well, and then he launched them at the Scottish Boxman with the force of a sling-shot. The Scottish Boxman fumbled for another box, but the Scooter drove in front of him, ramping his scooter so that its sturdy would take the brunt of the cheese damage. The Scottish Boxman grinned as Fromage Roi turned to find more cheeses, only to be hit in the head with a flying office chair.
Jihad Man chose this moment to stand, pulling out his blades and leaping towards the Scooter, kicking the man off his vehicle and causing the scooter itself to run into Go-To Guy. It did little damage to either thing, but allowed Hanser to wing the Scooter. He collapsed to the ground holding his wound, and struggled back to his feet. Captain Monocle turned and saw his ally’s injury and, while Jihad Man was in mid-leap, blasted the villain with his monocle, causing him to fall away from his goal. Instead, he rolled towards Englishman, and upon standing, was met with a fist to the jaw, knocking him to the ground.
“Ha ha,” said Englishman, still bleeding.
Meanwhile, the Forgiver tackled Hanser and wrested the gun from his hands, “You’ll take no more lives this day,” said the Forgiver, “Now, apologize.”
Hanser laughed maniacally for a full minute, and then said, “Yes! I apologize!”
The Forgiver stood up and let the man run out of the room, to the collective moans of the room. Before any of the other heroes could go after him, though, Jihad Man stood up.
“Now you’ll all die, capitalist pig-dogs!” He let out a tribal cry and his body began to glow malevolently.
Hanser was completely unaware of this as he ran down the stairs to the front door. As he hit the bottom of the stairs, he slipped on a pillow. Hanser stood up and looked at the pillow for a moment, confused. When he turned to the door, Sitting Tricky Pillow Man emerged from the shadows, holding more pillows. Hanser pulled a revolver from his jacket.
“Who the hell are you,” said Hanser.
“You once meet woman, named Katya. She is beautiful girl. You shoot her,” said Sitting Tricky Pillow Man, throwing a pillow at Hanser and stepping forward with every period.
“Doesn’t ring a bell,” said Hanser, shooting at Sitting Tricky Pillow Man. It clanged off the superhero’s stomach, revealing a steel pillow under his coat.
“That makes it no better,” said Sitting Tricky Pillow Man, only holding one pillow. He hurled it at Hanser with all his might. It hit with little effect, but managed to distract Hanser long enough for Sitting Tricky Pillow Man to run forward and tackle the man to the ground.
Hanser’s next few shots went wild as he looked at the wild-eyed Russian who was now sitting on top of him. Sitting Tricky Pillow Man reached under him and pulled out a pillow and pressed it firmly against Hanser’s face. The man struggled, but before his struggles ceased, Sitting Tricky Pillow Man removed the pillow. Hanser looked at him, fear in his eyes.
“I think long and hard about killing you when I meet you, Hanser. You kill woman I love, it is only fair I kill you. Then I think, Katya? She does not want me to kill. I honor her memory now,” said Sitting Tricky Pillow Man, who then punched Hanser in the face, several times, knocking the man out. “We will find good place to put you, da.”
As Sitting Tricky Pillow Man finished, an explosion erupted behind him. In the office, Jihad Man stood laughing amidst the smoke.
“Sodding loony!” said Britain Sandy, punching him towards the Scooter.
“Lunatic!” said the Scooter, hitting him with his good arm towards Captain Monocle.
Captain Monocle blasted him solemnly and silently towards Englishman.
“When will you learn, you silly man?” said Englishman, punching Jihad Man towards the Forgiver.
The Forgiver delivered an uppercut, knocking out Jihad Man, “I guess I’ll have to apologize later.”
“Good thing I was able to get this bomb-proof shield out before he went off,” said Scottish Boxman, standing in front of most of the surviving clerks.
“I’ll take these two to prison,” said Go-To Guy, wrapping them in bits of broken office chair, “I’ll make sure the police see me. Shame that Hanser got away.”
“Nyet,” said Sitting Tricky Pillow Man, “He is downstairs. I get him.”
“Good job,” said Go-To Guy, flying off with Fromage Roi and Jihad Man in tow.
“What are you doing here?” said the Forgiver.
“I am part of European Branch, yes?” said Sitting Tricky Pillow Man.
“You are, but you usually never show up for anything,” said Captain Monocle.
“Da. I like America better,” said Sitting Tricky Pillow Man.
Everyone laughed, except for Englishman who said, under his breath, “Pissant.”
***
Captain Zimball and Justice-Bot fought through the robot and zombie hordes, the robots and zombie growing stronger with each one defeated. As the robots and zombies closed in upon the two heroes, they smiled.
“Good fighting with you,” said Justice-Bot.
“Damn good,” said Captain Zimball.
As they prepared to fight to their deaths, a head came flying out of nowhere, knocking a robot back. A man appeared behind the robot and punched it, then vanished and appeared again in front of it, punching it again. Another identical man picked up the head and threw it upwards, where the Amazing Serial Hang-Man caught it and threw it at another robot.
“Toss me more,” shouted Serial Hang-Man, “Death from above!”
Two-Places-at-Once Man obliged, one of him getting things to Serial Hang-Man while the other popped in and out fighting robots and zombies. Occasionally, Dismembero’s head would be tossed up and thrown back down, being protected by what appeared to be a see-through orb of some kind.
Captain Zimball smiled and hit a zombie with his club, “Looks like this fight ain’t over!”
“Nope,” said Justice-Bot, blasting robots and zombies with both hands. A robot was about to hit him when it was pushed back by an unseen force. Justice-Bot turned to see Clyde hovering a few feet away.
“Pop wanted me to come out and help,” broadcast Clyde, softly, “Doesn’t mean I like you or anything.”
“As long as you’re here,” said Justice-Bot, with a smile, “Let’s get these jerks.”
“Jerk-asses,” broadcast Clyde.
A cream pie flew through the melee, hitting a falling Dismembero. Chuckles Fairbanks swung his pimp-cane at Two-Places-at-Once Man, failing to realize that he was fighting a man who could be in two places at once. After a barrage of fists rained down upon the clown, he pulled a little white flag from his coat.
“I surrender,” he said, falling to the ground. A massive hand reached down to grab him, placed him on a rooftop, and then pulled the Amazing Serial Hang-Man off his perch.
“America’s Fastest Growing Criminal,” said Two-Places-at-Once Man, bitterly.
“Ain’t only thing you need to contend yo’self wit’”, said Robbin Hood, pistol-whipping Two-Places-at-Once Man.
“Son, you’re just perpetrating the stereotype,” said Captain Zimball.
The two black men stared each other down, and then Dismembero’s head flew out of the air and hit Robbin Hood in the face.
“Dayum,” said Robbin Hood, holding his face, “You guys fight hard.”
“Damn straight!” said Captain Zimball, hitting Robbin Hood with the force of a piston. Once again, the giant hand lifted Robbin Hood out of harm’s way.
“So we need to deal with the robots, zombies, and a giant,” said Justice-Bot.
“I’ll deal with the giant,” said Mark King, striding into battle carrying a giant gun, “You deal with the rest of them.”
“I thought this was vigilantism?” broadcast Clyde.
“I burnt the paperwork. We’re back on,” said Mark King, aiming his weapon at America’s Fastest Growing Criminal. A burst of white energy shot at the man, causing him to shrink, and allowing Mark King to step forward and punch him out. He rubbed his fist, “All right. Let’s get the rest of these jokers. You can bet I’ll be Mark King that down in my report.”
The superheroes continued fighting, joined by their various compatriots, their enemies safely put away for the time being, and soon only a handful of robots and zombies remained.
“I’ll go in,” said Justice-Bot, “I’ll destroy the robot-making machine.”
“All right,” said Mark King.
“I need to go pick up my kid from soccer,” said Two-Places-at-Once Man.
“Go ahead,” said Mark King, “You did all right today. We all did.”
***
Justice-Bot broke through the front door of the factory, broken and sparking but still alive and able to fight, coming face-to-face with Elvin Clovar. Justice-Bot lowered his weapon but Elvin Clovar raised his hands and smiled nervously.
“Hey now, I won’t make anymore zombies, okay? At least, not today. I’m tired of these guys,” said Elvin Clovar.
“How can I believe you?” said Justice-Bot, blasters still at the ready.
“You can’t!” said Doctor Mandroid, lowering from the ceiling on his platform, “Nor can you trust me!”
Doctor Mandroid pushed a button and a massive energy blast hit Justice-Bot, causing him to collapse and his pieces to scatter. Elvin Clovar turned to Doctor Mandroid.
“So not cool,” said Elvin Clovar.
“You think I care? As long as I’m still up and going, I’ll take over this city. They can’t fight my robots forever,” said Doctor Mandroid, going up.
Elvin Clovar sighed and ran out the front door, raising his hands so that the heroes would know he was harmless. Dismembero still hit him.
“Ow, but hey, another one of your guys might be dead,” said Elvin Clovar, “The robot guy.”
“Justice-Bot?” broadcast Clyde, “Good. I hated that jerk.”
“We’ve lost a lot of guys this time,” said the Can, “Well, two, and those ones who got shot, but you know. Also, I have no armor.”
“Go-To Guy, could you take Justice-Bot and the Can back to headquarters? Thanks. The rest of us, we’re going in,” said Mark King, as Go-To Guy did as he was asked.
“This is bloody exciting,” said Sandy.
“I’m sort of sick of it,” said Land Captain, “All we need to do now is defeat that Mandroid fellow, right? Perhaps destroy his factory?”
“I think so,” said Mark King.
“You’ll never do such a thing,” said Doctor Mandroid, descending on his platform.
“Let me see your hat,” said Land Captain to the Can, who gave over what remained of his costume. With a well-aimed throw, Land Captain knocked Doctor Mandroid from his platform. The mad cyborg fell to the ground.
“Good hit,” said Mark King, “Can someone get up on that platform?”
“On it,” said the Forgiver, using the various accoutrements of an evil robot factory to propel himself upwards until he landed on the platform, “What am I looking for?”
“Self-destruct switch. Any self-respecting mad scientist has one,” said Mark King.
“I think this is it,” said the Forgiver, who pressed the button and leapt to the ground.
As the Astounding Superhero Syndicate ran from the building, Doctor Mandroid in tow, they knew it was the right button, as the factory began exploding. They stood and watched the building fall, the skull facade crumbling to nothingness. None of them noticed the lone figure leaping from the factory roof, nor the Wiper and Bootman running out the back.
“So we won?” said the Can.
“I think so,” said the Forgiver.
“Good job, everyone!” said Mark King, “I think we’ve proven to everyone that the Astounding Superhero Syndicate can get things done.”
“We sure have,” said Land Captain.
Suddenly, there was a colossal roar and the team turned towards the lake where a giant space minotaur had appeared. He began smashing buildings nearly immediately.
“Darn it,” said Mark King, “I knew we forgot something.”
