SG: West Coast Defenders #31
Lawrence Brown
It was a clear evening. The first days round of interviews had gone well=
. =20
British Airwave, business leader and CEO of the west coast division of=20
Tyler Industries, sighed softly. It was a sigh of contentment and peace.=
=20
Stetson Tyler, space cowboy and adventurer, had known better than Randall=
=20
himself that the British superhero was capable of managing the business o=
f=20
carefully parlaying the windfall of technology gained from the salvage of=
=20
the Yesj. He=D5d even received letters of welcome from business competito=
rs=20
such as Bruce Rogers himself. Interesting, these Yanks.=20
He smiled slightly. From the top of the Tyler Industries building, he had=
a=20
commanding view of the San Francisco skyline. Glancing east, he could=20
see the lights of the Bay Bridge, and northwest the Golden Gate bridge=20
gleamed in the warm glow of the sunset. A soft breeze carried the smell =
of=20
the sea to the rooftop and gulls floated on the air currents. Randall re=
laxed=20
slightly and allowed the sounds of the city, the electronic sounds of the=
city=20
that only he could hear, to catch his attention. Cellular phones, shortwa=
ve=20
and broadcasts on the telly, aircraft, walkie talkies, wireless phones; a=
ll=20
these sounds washed over his senses like a wave of chaotic music.
I wonder if telepaths feel the same way in a crowd, Randall mused silentl=
y.=20
He strolled along the enormous rooftop, listening to an evening news=20
report. Then a distinct voice came from below, "British Airwave, this is =
the=20
Nikon Ninja, if you could please report to the team conference room, we=20
have a [cough] visitor." Bloody Hell(tm), he thought. Who is the visitor=
?=20
The tone in Parker=D5s voice suggested that the visitor was not altogethe=
r wel-
come, so with a crackle of energy, the british superhero homed in on the=20
signal and suddenly reappeared below the building in the team=D5s HQ. He=20
yawned and wriggled his jaw to clear his ears. "Ah. Thats better." He=20
looked around the room, immediately focusing on a 2=D5 tall, blue, carrot=
=20
chomping cartoon rabbit. "Fuzzy Bunny, what do we owe (and I use the=20
term loosely) the pleasure of this unauthorized entry into our restricted=
=20
area?"
"You too, huh?" Fuzzy Bunny groused. "Well isn=D5t this dandy! I come all=
=20
this way to rejoin my team-mates and get some help, and Chop-Suey here=20
wants to slice and dice, his big furry bug-buddy wants to have me for lun=
ch,=20
literally, and now Jeeves the butler is treating me like a displaced Denn=
y=D5s=20
patron at a black tie social. What else could go wrong?"
The radio crackled, "This is Spectrum to West Coast Defenders, come in=20
West Coast Defenders! Hey guys! Guess what!? I=D5m back!" Fuzzy Bunny=20
rolled his eyes. "Great. I had to ask."
WEST COAST DEFENDERS #31 "You only hurt the ones you pun."
Guest Starring the Mighty Muddy Power Grangers [AGAIN]
{Soon to appear in their own series! Really!=20
Anything to get them outta here!}
The airspeeder skimmed clumsily over a trackless desert of barren sand=20
dunes.
"Uh-huh-huh-huuh...this sucks, like, no babes, nothing to look at, its ho=
t..."
"Heh-heh-heh-yeah-heh-heh..this bites."
"Shaddap yew two idjits!" Bull growled. "It aint easy steering this than=
g, it=20
being all banged up and jury-rigged, its ah wonder it kin even keep us ai=
r-
borne."
Mule leaned into the crude tiller he had constructed from tree branches a=
nd=20
straps and bailing wire. Attached were the four jetpacks, suspended from=20
the corners of the rectangular open airspeeder. Their directed thrust hel=
ped=20
to steer the contraption in a semblance of a straight line. As they clear=
ed=20
another rise, they spotted a line of footprints in the sand. "We gonna f=
ollow=20
=D5em?" Bull asked Sally. She sighed, shrugging in such a way to make he=
r=20
hair bounce softly, "Shore, why not, some feller might need help." She=20
paused, noticing the stares of her team members, "Umm, ah mean, some=20
fool might be strolling along with somethin we could rip off..."=20
"Yeah! huh-huh-huh, Something to shoot!" Reaper chuckled, firing his=20
blaster at a patch of sand at random. "We gonna kick butt. Aint nuthin,=20
nohow, gonna stop us." They all let out an evil laugh, just to stay in pr=
ac-
tice, and the airspeeder skimmed onward. As they roared on past, the san=
d=20
moved where it had been shot, like a leviathan stirring from slumber.
Thats twice now, Murphy. Yeah, I know....
Quickly, the tracks revealed a column of brown-robed hooded men march-
ing single file through the sand. Bull pointed, "Thar! Lookit those fool=
s=20
marching. Ah don=D5t see anythin worth stealin." From the cluster below=
,=20
there arose a low moan, and they all pointed and moaned at the Grangers.=20
Sally watched the figures shake hooked staffs at the Grangers. "What is=20
they frettin about, anyhow?" =20
A low rumble emanated from the sands below them. Hellhound glanced=20
behind them, and did a double-take as the color drained from his face. Th=
e=20
rest of the team, being otherwise occupied with piloting the airspeeder o=
r=20
watching the men below them, took no notice. "Uh, huh-huh, uhhhh."=20
"What is it =D5Hound?" Sally muttered, her eyes on Reaper, who was idly=20
considering whether or not to snipe at one of the men below just on gener=
al=20
principles (or lack thereof).
"Uhhhh, like, uhhh. Imagine uh twinkie...uh, =D5bout the size of a grain=20
silo...."
"Thats a big twinkie." Bull grinned to himself at the obvious Ghostbuster=
=20
joke.
"Uh....like, yeah....uh...." Hellhound lapsed into stunned silence at his=
team=20
member=D5s casual reply. "Uh... cool." The rumbling grew louder, more=20
detectable as being behind the speeder. "Uhhhh. Reaper, uh. Can we, uh,=20
leave now!?"
"Heh-heh-hhehheh. No way man, I=D5m going to have some target practice=20
first."
Hellhound pondered. "Uh... like have you ever roasted a twinkie with a=20
blaster?"
Bull adjusted his steering, hovering near the frettin men below. "Nope, =
but=20
ah once nuked one for a long time in the microwave. Damn thangs are=20
purt-near indestructible."
"Oh." Hellhound replied with some detachment. "Uh, uhuuh. Run away.=20
Run. Must run fast. Fast go now."
Sally turned to face Hellhound. "Hellhound, yew damn aaiiiiIII-
IEEEEEE!"
Bull and Reaper turned as one, and immediately joined the screaming. The=
=20
once farm-punk teenagers stared in terror at the delicious creamy filling=
=20
which was the maw of the largest Twinkie they had ever seen, part of whic=
h=20
was poking out of the desert sands like an enormous snake-like snack-cake=
=20
monster. Gooey viscous rumbling sounds thrummed from inside its unnat-
urally yellow soft hide.
"Aaaahhhhhh!" the team chorused. "RUN AWAaAAAaaaY" Bull jammed=20
the throttle past its stops, snapping the steering linkages and putting t=
he jet-
packs on afterburner. The leviathan slammed downward, intending to=20
engulf them in its sweet smooth silky internals. But the airspeeder jinx=
ed=20
to one side and was batted away by the monster=D5s bulk, bouncing over th=
e=20
dunes like a air-hockey puck on caffeine. "Aaaaaaaaaaaah!"
A worried moan arose from the desert nomads, and they ran towards the=20
giant sand-twinkie. Grasping their hooked poles, they leapt to the sides=
of=20
the juggernaut and pulled themselves up onto the beast=D5s enormous back.=
=20
Gouging their hooks in its sides, they began to slowly turn the massive=20
creature towards the errant skycar, and began chopping bite-sized morsels=
=20
off its backside, spurring the desert dessert to redouble its speed acros=
s the=20
sand. The jetpacks whipped around wildly, at one moment even sending=20
the careworn crooks right at the mouth of the monster.
Bull shouted at Superchick, "Git Mule ready to bail! We=D5re gonna be tas=
t-
iee-snacks for that dang critter if we don=D5t!" Reaper and Hellhound, p=
ar-
tially regaining their composure, had taken a blaster rifle in each hand =
and=20
were emptying all four barrels full auto at the creature, with little eff=
ect. =20
Occasionally a burst would ignite a small patch of the sweetened cake, bu=
t=20
one of the riders would worry the spot with their staff and chop away the=
=20
burning piece.
"It looks like we gonna be, anyway," she retorted. "so come on, mistuh=20
techno-weiner, get us outta this." The speeder veered alongside at the la=
st=20
moment, and the Grangers now had to avoid decapitation by the twinkie-
riders and their poles. As one pole swung down for the kill, Reaper parri=
ed=20
with his own scythe, hooking and violently unseating the worried nomad.
"Huh-huh-huh, she said weiner," Hellhound gleefully chuckled, switching=20
strategy to shooting the fret-men. He paused, checking the charge on his=
=20
rifles. "huh...this sucks. Getting low on ammo, y=D5all." =20
Mule stirred, blinked and mumbled, "Mmmm, s=D5mores....." Bull snorted,=20
then glanced back. The sand-twinkie was gaining on them despite the=20
vehicle=D5s random maneuvers. Bull glanced at Mule, and a slow smile bega=
n=20
to creep over his face. "Hey y=D5all, ah think ah got an idea."
-------------------------
"Curses! Curses!" Rita Repeato, evil Queen of Sabania muttered. "Bester!=
=20
Bester! You fool, you fool, they=D5re escaping the dessert of despair!" =
Her=20
voice stopped, and seconds later, her mouth stopped moving. Cheesy sinis-
ter music played in the background, while steam and fog flowed through=20
the room for no apparent reason.
Rita paused, waiting for her mouth to stop moving, and angrily glanced=20
around the room. The room was empty, save for a cowering tofu warrior,=20
visibly disturbed, clinging to a small scroll like his life depended on i=
t. =20
Rita slowly stomped over to the underling, and snatched the scroll away. =
=20
Breaking the seal, she unrolled the message and screeched angrily.
Dear Dear Rita Rita I I quit quit. Bite me. I now have enough power co=
ins=20
to retire and start my own little bakery. So go ahead and babble on, you=20
fool. Don=D5t try to find me or you=D5ll soon fear your own shadow, wond=
ering=20
when my pie corps will ambush you. One last thing...turn around.
Rita whirled, just as a lemon creme pie smacked her right in the face. =20
"Aauugh! Auugh!" She choked in rage. Someone handed her a towel, and=20
she quickly wiped the goo off her face. Standing in front of her was a=20
strange sequined being with blue skin and a enormous chin and a pompa-
dour. "Who in the 12 channels are you! Who! WHO!"
"Hey there chickee babe! Like quit with the owl impersonation! Who I am=20
is not as important as what I can do for you! I=D5m from the syndication =
team,=20
and my associates have asked me to ask you, What do you want?"
Her eyes widened, and she yanked a spear from the wall display and=20
rammed it though the stranger=D5s chest. "I want you to die. I want them =
to=20
die. I want the Grangers to die. I want that traitor Bester to die."
The stranger coughed and fell. "I get the point, sweetheart babe=20
snookem=D5s, and I mean that in the best way. But unless you find a way =
to=20
revive me, fast, you aint getting nuthin from me, babe. He coughed once=20
and was still.
Rita glared at the corpse. She felt in her pockets and fished out one las=
t=20
dingy and battered ezo power coin, and placed it over the spear hole. =20
Faintly the last coin released its energy and the body shimmered An ethe=
-
real copy of the stranger stood and stretched his arm, yawning. "ahhhh.=20
Thats better, of course anything beats being dead...um...." He paused and=
=20
passed his hand through a wall. "Whoa, major life changing experience. S=
o=20
like sweetheart honey pointy-chest, we=D5re got some new rules here. No=20
more of you sitting on the side stage, when things get busy you are there=
,=20
and I mean in a big way, =D5kay? Now lessee here," he leaned toward the=20
telescope, then leaned away as the lens passed through his insubstantial=20
head. "Ah, yeah. Ah, you look then and tell me if the Grangers have=20
escaped the dessert yet.
Rita=D5s mouth began to move, and a moment later she replied, "Almost,=20
almost." She stood and glared at the ghost, her mouth still moving.=20
"Thats aces, Rita-baby." Now, just pick up and sign that contract over t=
here=20
and I=D5ll send them out to deal with your hillbilly headaches. Rita snat=
ched up=20
the contract and read it irritably. "....author-damned syndicate team, g=
onna=20
cost me, cost me a fortune!" But it will be worth it to be rid of them, =
and that=20
cursed Injor, the legendary masked biker who had slain her manevolent man=
-
fiend, Lord Fred. Then her mastery over the planet would be complete. No=
=20
heroes, no technology to thwart her schemes of domination. "Just a moment=
=20
there, um, what=D5s your name?"
"Flatterer."
"What?" she growled.
"Flatterer. Thats my name, beautiful, and I mean that."
She stared at him for a moment, arched an eyebrow and replied. "Whatever.=
=20
Just who am I signing up to help me defeat my enemies??!"
"Only one of the biggest, buggiest teams ever to grace the henchman indus=
-
try! Double R-baby, these chaps are some of the best at sonics and adapti=
ve-
size cybernetic technology. And they=D5re just the thing to bring wayward=
=20
heroes into the fold." He pointed at their name in the contract as Rita g=
asped=20
in suprise."Not them!"
YES! THEM!=20
No, not THEM, as in the giant ants..."THEM"
THEM?
YES, THEM!
OH. THEM.
Superguy. Read all about THEM here.
--=20
Lawrence H. Brown, Cisco Systems lbr...@cisco.com (408)526-4487
"The shortest distance between two points is off the wall."
Lawrence Brown
It was a clear evening. The first days round of interviews had gone well.
British Airwave, business leader and CEO of the west coast division of
carefully parlaying the windfall of technology gained from the salvage of
such as Bruce Rogers himself. Interesting, these Yanks.
He smiled slightly. From the top of the Tyler Industries building, he had a
commanding view of the San Francisco skyline. Glancing east, he could
see the lights of the Bay Bridge, and northwest the Golden Gate bridge
gleamed in the warm glow of the sunset. A soft breeze carried the smell of
the sea to the rooftop and gulls floated on the air currents. Randall relaxed
slightly and allowed the sounds of the city, the electronic sounds of the city
that only he could hear, to catch his attention. Cellular phones, shortwave
and broadcasts on the telly, aircraft, walkie talkies, wireless phones; all
these sounds washed over his senses like a wave of chaotic music.
I wonder if telepaths feel the same way in a crowd, Randall mused silently.
He strolled along the enormous rooftop, listening to an evening news
report. Then a distinct voice came from below, "British Airwave, this is the
Nikon Ninja, if you could please report to the team conference room, we
have a [cough] visitor." Bloody Hell(tm), he thought. Who is the visitor?
The tone in ParkerUs voice suggested that the visitor was not altogether wel-
come, so with a crackle of energy, the british superhero homed in on the
signal and suddenly reappeared below the building in the teamUs HQ. He
yawned and wriggled his jaw to clear his ears. "Ah. Thats better." He
looked around the room, immediately focusing on a 2U tall, blue, carrot
chomping cartoon rabbit. "Fuzzy Bunny, what do we owe (and I use the
term loosely) the pleasure of this unauthorized entry into our restricted
area?"
"You too, huh?" Fuzzy Bunny groused. "Well isnUt this dandy! I come all
this way to rejoin my team-mates and get some help, and Chop-Suey here
wants to slice and dice, his big furry bug-buddy wants to have me for lunch,
literally, and now Jeeves the butler is treating me like a displaced DennyUs
patron at a black tie social. What else could go wrong?"
The radio crackled, "This is Spectrum to West Coast Defenders, come in
West Coast Defenders! Hey guys! Guess what!? IUm back!" Fuzzy Bunny
rolled his eyes. "Great. I had to ask."
WEST COAST DEFENDERS #31 "You only hurt the ones you pun."
Guest Starring the Mighty Muddy Power Grangers [AGAIN]
{Soon to appear in their own series! Really!
Anything to get them outta here!}
The airspeeder skimmed clumsily over a trackless desert of barren sand
dunes.
"Uh-huh-huh-huuh...this sucks, like, no babes, nothing to look at, its hot..."
"Heh-heh-heh-yeah-heh-heh..this bites."
"Shaddap yew two idjits!" Bull growled. "It aint easy steering this thang, it
being all banged up and jury-rigged, its ah wonder it kin even keep us air-
borne."
Mule leaned into the crude tiller he had constructed from tree branches and
straps and bailing wire. Attached were the four jetpacks, suspended from
the corners of the rectangular open airspeeder. Their directed thrust helped
to steer the contraption in a semblance of a straight line. As they cleared
another rise, they spotted a line of footprints in the sand. "We gonna follow
Uem?" Bull asked Sally. She sighed, shrugging in such a way to make her
hair bounce softly, "Shore, why not, some feller might need help." She
paused, noticing the stares of her team members, "Umm, ah mean, some
fool might be strolling along with somethin we could rip off..."
"Yeah! huh-huh-huh, Something to shoot!" Reaper chuckled, firing his
blaster at a patch of sand at random. "We gonna kick butt. Aint nuthin,
nohow, gonna stop us." They all let out an evil laugh, just to stay in prac-
tice, and the airspeeder skimmed onward. As they roared on past, the sand
moved where it had been shot, like a leviathan stirring from slumber.
Thats twice now, Murphy. Yeah, I know....
Quickly, the tracks revealed a column of brown-robed hooded men march-
ing single file through the sand. Bull pointed, "Thar! Lookit those fools
marching. Ah donUt see anythin worth stealin." From the cluster below,
there arose a low moan, and they all pointed and moaned at the Grangers.
Sally watched the figures shake hooked staffs at the Grangers. "What is
they frettin about, anyhow?"
A low rumble emanated from the sands below them. Hellhound glanced
behind them, and did a double-take as the color drained from his face. The
rest of the team, being otherwise occupied with piloting the airspeeder or
watching the men below them, took no notice. "Uh, huh-huh, uhhhh."
"What is it UHound?" Sally muttered, her eyes on Reaper, who was idly
considering whether or not to snipe at one of the men below just on general
principles (or lack thereof).
"Uhhhh, like, uhhh. Imagine uh twinkie...uh, Ubout the size of a grain
silo...."
"Thats a big twinkie." Bull grinned to himself at the obvious Ghostbuster
joke.
"Uh....like, yeah....uh...." Hellhound lapsed into stunned silence at his team
memberUs casual reply. "Uh... cool." The rumbling grew louder, more
detectable as being behind the speeder. "Uhhhh. Reaper, uh. Can we, uh,
leave now!?"
"Heh-heh-hhehheh. No way man, IUm going to have some target practice
first."
Hellhound pondered. "Uh... like have you ever roasted a twinkie with a
blaster?"
Bull adjusted his steering, hovering near the frettin men below. "Nope, but
ah once nuked one for a long time in the microwave. Damn thangs are
purt-near indestructible."
"Oh." Hellhound replied with some detachment. "Uh, uhuuh. Run away.
Run. Must run fast. Fast go now."
Sally turned to face Hellhound. "Hellhound, yew damn aaiiiiIII-
IEEEEEE!"
Bull and Reaper turned as one, and immediately joined the screaming. The
once farm-punk teenagers stared in terror at the delicious creamy filling
which was the maw of the largest Twinkie they had ever seen, part of which
was poking out of the desert sands like an enormous snake-like snack-cake
monster. Gooey viscous rumbling sounds thrummed from inside its unnat-
urally yellow soft hide.
"Aaaahhhhhh!" the team chorused. "RUN AWAaAAAaaaY" Bull jammed
the throttle past its stops, snapping the steering linkages and putting the jet-
packs on afterburner. The leviathan slammed downward, intending to
engulf them in its sweet smooth silky internals. But the airspeeder jinxed
to one side and was batted away by the monsterUs bulk, bouncing over the
dunes like a air-hockey puck on caffeine. "Aaaaaaaaaaaah!"
A worried moan arose from the desert nomads, and they ran towards the
giant sand-twinkie. Grasping their hooked poles, they leapt to the sides of
the juggernaut and pulled themselves up onto the beastUs enormous back.
Gouging their hooks in its sides, they began to slowly turn the massive
creature towards the errant skycar, and began chopping bite-sized morsels
off its backside, spurring the desert dessert to redouble its speed across the
sand. The jetpacks whipped around wildly, at one moment even sending
the careworn crooks right at the mouth of the monster.
Bull shouted at Superchick, "Git Mule ready to bail! WeUre gonna be tast-
iee-snacks for that dang critter if we donUt!" Reaper and Hellhound, par-
tially regaining their composure, had taken a blaster rifle in each hand and
were emptying all four barrels full auto at the creature, with little effect.
Occasionally a burst would ignite a small patch of the sweetened cake, but
one of the riders would worry the spot with their staff and chop away the
burning piece.
"It looks like we gonna be, anyway," she retorted. "so come on, mistuh
techno-weiner, get us outta this." The speeder veered alongside at the last
moment, and the Grangers now had to avoid decapitation by the twinkie-
riders and their poles. As one pole swung down for the kill, Reaper parried
with his own scythe, hooking and violently unseating the worried nomad.
"Huh-huh-huh, she said weiner," Hellhound gleefully chuckled, switching
strategy to shooting the fret-men. He paused, checking the charge on his
rifles. "huh...this sucks. Getting low on ammo, yUall."
Mule stirred, blinked and mumbled, "Mmmm, sUmores....." Bull snorted,
then glanced back. The sand-twinkie was gaining on them despite the
vehicleUs random maneuvers. Bull glanced at Mule, and a slow smile began
to creep over his face. "Hey yUall, ah think ah got an idea."
-------------------------
"Curses! Curses!" Rita Repeato, evil Queen of Sabania muttered. "Bester!
Bester! You fool, you fool, theyUre escaping the dessert of despair!" Her
voice stopped, and seconds later, her mouth stopped moving. Cheesy sinis-
ter music played in the background, while steam and fog flowed through
the room for no apparent reason.
Rita paused, waiting for her mouth to stop moving, and angrily glanced
around the room. The room was empty, save for a cowering tofu warrior,
visibly disturbed, clinging to a small scroll like his life depended on it.
Rita slowly stomped over to the underling, and snatched the scroll away.
Breaking the seal, she unrolled the message and screeched angrily.
Dear Dear Rita Rita I I quit quit. Bite me. I now have enough power coins
to retire and start my own little bakery. So go ahead and babble on, you
fool. DonUt try to find me or youUll soon fear your own shadow, wondering
when my pie corps will ambush you. One last thing...turn around.
Rita whirled, just as a lemon creme pie smacked her right in the face.
"Aauugh! Auugh!" She choked in rage. Someone handed her a towel, and
she quickly wiped the goo off her face. Standing in front of her was a
strange sequined being with blue skin and a enormous chin and a pompa-
dour. "Who in the 12 channels are you! Who! WHO!"
"Hey there chickee babe! Like quit with the owl impersonation! Who I am
is not as important as what I can do for you! IUm from the syndication team,
and my associates have asked me to ask you, What do you want?"
Her eyes widened, and she yanked a spear from the wall display and
rammed it though the strangerUs chest. "I want you to die. I want them to
die. I want the Grangers to die. I want that traitor Bester to die."
The stranger coughed and fell. "I get the point, sweetheart babe
snookemUs, and I mean that in the best way. But unless you find a way to
revive me, fast, you aint getting nuthin from me, babe. He coughed once
and was still.
Rita glared at the corpse. She felt in her pockets and fished out one last
dingy and battered ezo power coin, and placed it over the spear hole.
Faintly the last coin released its energy and the body shimmered An ethe-
real copy of the stranger stood and stretched his arm, yawning. "ahhhh.
Thats better, of course anything beats being dead...um...." He paused and
passed his hand through a wall. "Whoa, major life changing experience. So
like sweetheart honey pointy-chest, weUre got some new rules here. No
more of you sitting on the side stage, when things get busy you are there,
and I mean in a big way, Ukay? Now lessee here," he leaned toward the
telescope, then leaned away as the lens passed through his insubstantial
head. "Ah, yeah. Ah, you look then and tell me if the Grangers have
escaped the dessert yet.
RitaUs mouth began to move, and a moment later she replied, "Almost,
almost." She stood and glared at the ghost, her mouth still moving.
"Thats aces, Rita-baby." Now, just pick up and sign that contract over there
and IUll send them out to deal with your hillbilly headaches. Rita snatched up
the contract and read it irritably. "....author-damned syndicate team, gonna
cost me, cost me a fortune!" But it will be worth it to be rid of them, and tha
t
cursed Injor, the legendary masked biker who had slain her manevolent man-
fiend, Lord Fred. Then her mastery over the planet would be complete. No
heroes, no technology to thwart her schemes of domination. "Just a moment
there, um, whatUs your name?"
"Flatterer."
"What?" she growled.
"Flatterer. Thats my name, beautiful, and I mean that."
She stared at him for a moment, arched an eyebrow and replied. "Whatever.
Just who am I signing up to help me defeat my enemies??!"
"Only one of the biggest, buggiest teams ever to grace the henchman indus-
try! Double R-baby, these chaps are some of the best at sonics and adaptive-
size cybernetic technology. And theyUre just the thing to bring wayward
heroes into the fold." He pointed at their name in the contract as Rita gasped
in suprise."Not them!"
YES! THEM!
No, not THEM, as in the giant ants..."THEM"
THEM?
YES, THEM!
OH. THEM.
Superguy. Read all about THEM here.
--