Friday, February 6, 2009
Intergalactic Gladiator: Evil is afoot in the swamp!
I stood at the main entrance to the Hall of Doom. One slender red velvet rope was all that separated me from the throng of Legion wannabes. The loud thumping of the techno music reverberated through my chest.
“This is pretty cool, huh?” Igor asked. Apparently, the Legion of Doom has its own apprentice henchmen. I think Igor has a power, I don’t know, maybe looking at his eyes too much gives you a headache. “It’s like we’re in charge of letting people in. We got a clipboard and everything.”
A woman stepped up and looked at us. Looked up and down and almost, just almost grunted a sigh of contempt.
“Bomb Queen,” she huffed impatiently.
“I don’t see you here…” Igor looked up and down the names on the list.
“Gimme that!” I snarled as I grabbed it from him. “You may enter, Miss Queen. Please refrain from detonating any and all explosive or incendiary devices while inside.
“Thank you,” she slid her hand seductively across my cheek before giving it a solid smack. She slapped Igor as well as she walked past.
“Luthor said always let the sexy ones in,” I growled. “Don’t forget.”
“Oh yeah,” he mumbled while rubbing his cheek.
A man stepped up to the rope. “Dr. Sivana.” He nodded and clicked his heals. “I believe that I am expected.”
“I don’t see you on the list,” I said while looking it up and down.
“I assure you that my name is there,” he stated.
“I don’t know,” I answered. “Lex Luthor’s already in there. You can’t have too many bald super geniuses at one party. Too much pressure, you know.”
“Hugo Strange is in there too,” Igor smiled and nodded.
“I am certain that I am on the list,” he said exasperatedly. “Please check again.”
“Yeah, I don’t see you,” I shook my head. He held up a twenty and I grabbed it quickly. “Oh here you are. Go on right in Mr. Sivana.”
“Of course.” I kind of felt bad for the poor guy. He was just trying to fit in.
“I am Professor Pigpen, man,” the next man announced at the ropes. “Master of mud and grime.”
“Wow, you smell.” Igor pinched his nose. “Kind of like skunk or some kind of weed or something.”
“Not on the list,” I said.
“Are you sure, man?” the Doctor of Dirt asked. “I am certain that the Legion is accepting me as a new member tonight.”
“No way,” Igor winced as he pinched his nose.
“Not on the list,” I repeated.
“Well that’s heavy man. Perhaps we could discuss that list like two gentlemen?”
Professor Pigpen tried to casually slip a twenty towards me. I shot him in the face with a blast of knockout gas as I grabbed the money. He slumped over into Igor’s arms.
“Why don’t you take him out back and throw him in the dumpster,” I said. Igor nodded and complied.
“In. In. In. In,” I replied as I let the foursome through.
“Hey did I miss anything while I was gone?” Igor appeared next to me.
“Naw, nothing much,” I answered.
“I am the Trope!” the next character announced with a flourish.
“I don’t see you on the list,” I said as I looked up and down the sheet on my clipboard.
“I must be there,” he insisted. “I am quite the supervillain, if I do say so myself.”
“Really? What have you done?”
“Well I captured Batman and Robin in a super trap,” he replied. “I had them under a giant magnifying glass at noon.”
“Did you fry them?” I asked skeptically.
“Er, no, they escaped during an eclipse,” he replied. “Oh but I also threw a mutagen in the Central City reservoir. It was designed to mutate anyone who drinks it.”
“And did that work?” I asked.
“No, the Flash ran around it so fast that it caused a water spout and separated the formula,” he sighed. “Oh, but I did band a team of supervillains together to crush the Avengers!”
“And did that work?” I repeated.
“Well no,” he admitted. “Everything started out fine, but then the villains started arguing amongst themselves and then the Avengers beat us.”
“Too bad,” I shook my head. “And you’re not on the list.”
“Listen here, I’m an evil genius and I’ve been at this game before you were out of diapers. You let me in now, I'm going in to speak to Luthor or else I'll stuff your girlfriend in a refrigerator.”
I replied by shooting him in the face with the knockout gas.
“Dump him on top of that Pigpen guy,” I ordered Igor.
“Yes, master,” he rasped as he shuffled off with the Trope's unconscious body in his arms.