Beware: DEVIL BAT!

[Metatheory]

Love this story thread - looking forward to the next update!

[cranebump]

Year 1, Day Sasquatch.

Devil Bat gets Freaky (yet somehow remains FULLY CLOTHED)

 

Today we drop in our buddy Andrew Fiore in Talos (like, literally) [as in it really happened, rather than that stupid intensifier teenagers say when they mean "really," or "very," or "I don't have anything that fits what I'm saying, so I'm gonna say "literally" because all my friends do, and THEY know proper English usage] {shut up, Crane. YOU chose to become a teacher....like, you literally did, man.}

 

I am (literally NOT) the DUSK!...Hi, lamppost.

 

Drew is pretty straightforward:

 

Very well, then. FOR LOCKHART! (who's Lockhart?)

 

Oh...THAT Lockhart...Okey doke!

 

Off to Steel Canyon we go. Which, as always, begins with TRAM ROULETTE Here we go, round and round...annnnd:

...yep...every gd'ed time...

 

Switch trains, then take my version of the friendly skies:

Man, I LOVE Skyway Ci...er, this place...which is not even remotely the same. Even though I can never tell them apart when I'm doing Synapse, and I end up in one when I need the other (and all because I didn't pay ANY attention to Levar Burton back in the day).

 

Finally there, and in we go!  Can't WAIT to for a straight-up fight. Just armored dudes and guys that hit you. None of that stupid-a** mezzing, or end-draining, or...

 

Oh, yeah...stunners...okay. So, if I wanna avoid all that, I better scan this place for those weapons! I'll make use of some handy-dandy SUPER TECH to get the job done!

Hmmm...nothing here, and this place is HUGE!

 

Okay, so maybe magnifying the "looks suspiciously like a Yin TF map" was a bad idea. When I drop the BIN-465-Vision Enhancement Device, I see we got a pair of racks. After a brief bout of disappointment that these have nothing to do with the Rockettes, I confiscate the booty and move on.

 

By the way, first combat?

Yeah...it's a thing. And so is my "Hokey-Pockey" step:

That's enough of the sledge, brutha. 'Preciate cha.

 

Looks like my arrival is fortuitous:

Indeed. Exotic. Explains all the feathers and dimples on them. (is that crotchless underwear I see?)

 

Okay, we're putting a STOP to all this. RIGHT NOW!

Nobody puts Batty in a corner!

 

So, Freaks. Not only do they heal and sometimes get back up after a hard tickle. But they also take lessons from the Tsoo:

(sigh) Why so many, bro? Tired just lookin' at'cha.

 

Okay, front seat of the car is clear. I'll just stealth on over...

and...

...or maybe not

Ugh...mez balls. I miss my Tsoo brothers.

 

Of course, we all know that the electricity, and getting back up, and the buzzsaws and stuff is not the REAL reason why Freaks suck. Not at all. 

 

It's THIS:

Teh Pone Noorzl? The Pawn Oryol? Tepid Winnow Norzel? Fo'...shizzle?

 

Well, this just CANNOT STAND!

Tk htah ouy fuawl bda yug! (damn, now, I'M doing it, but WORSE!)

 

So I take out Douche Nozzle, or Pan Fry, or whatever his name is, then hit up my bud, AF. GOOD NEWS! I not only stop the threat, but:

My COSTCO application is approved! Time to buy yam cans by the  dozen!

 

Now we go into full-on story arc mode (which, at first makes me giddy, because I think it's named after ME):

Hell, yeah, m**********r! I-

Ohhh...bummer.

 

We head for the base, where our keenly placed network of dark tunnels will take us to Atlas for the next foray. However, once there, I run into a conundrum. 

Hmmmm...my vigilante training says not to leave the air compressor unguarded.

 

What to do, what to do? Let's get scientific!

Okay, so paper covers...um, nothing. Guess I can head out?

 

ASIDE: In case, you hadn't noticed, ol' DB here has remarked before about what's behind this infernal, eternal, UNENDING crime wave we have in PC. Well, once again, his wisdom holds true:

The demise of Radio Shack. (these guys have NOWHERE else to go for this sh*t)

 

Is what it is, man. I’ll deal with it. Either way, I'm feeling a bit thirsty. As luck would have it, I find this just inside the mission entrance:

(yeah, that's a perfectly good water dispenser there, but do I carry a paper cup? No. No room, what with my pool cue and protest signs).

 

Now 78.9% hydrated, I head in, and:

Whoa...what was in that coke I just drank?

 

Better check the equipment. Maybe it's all hyped up, too.

Okay. Looks like we're all good here. (sigh)

 

On the positive side, the Freaks seem more advanced in their bon mots:

A pop culture reference! Bravo! Here. Have one of these super cokes.

 

After I smash that Freak (while yelling POOR GOOSE!), I run into a bit of trouble. No, not the freakie deakies, but THESE guys:

Seriously, Mike & Ike. I know you're just trying to help by pushing me out the way, but this is really cramping my style. (I call this move “drunken cheetah diving in empty pool at frat party”).

 

Nevertheless, we continue our adventure in The Land of 4,000 crates:

Make that 4,001:

 

EVENTUALLY, after dodging all the pedestrians and such, I Bat-Smack the last of the Freekz and hit up 'Drew. 

Whoa...hmmm...they both sound so appetizing.

 

And so, with DB contemplating his options:

Personally, I think I can lift them BOTH.

 

...we fade out on this installment. But, we'll be back! And BATTIER THAN EVAR! Because guess what? I got an edge, this time:

 

I AM SO SMART!

 

Peace out! (for now)

 

Do I smell something burning...?

 

NOTE: I'm not sure why, but evidently I doubled up on the pics. And since deleting them means I might lose the originals, everyone gets extra beauty shots from the bygone days of this post (remember? from 6 minutes ago? I evidently don't so...here we are). 

Edited January 22, 2023 by cranebump

[cranebump]

Year 1, Day Regis Philbin (who knows HOW old that f*****r was, right).

Devil Bat and the Hand of IRON

 

To recap: Now that Andrew Fiore has offered us VIP access to the entire CostCo inventory, he has a pair of disparate stories for us: The Chameleon Suit and the Hand of Iron.

 

I know which one I’m going with…

Hand of iron baby! (hmmm…why didn’t that call down a lightning bolt?...oh, well…)

 

Our first mish is difficult. I am required to move with a PURPOSE!

…I hate having a purpose…

 

So, it’s a half-mile here, a half-milre there, here a half, there a half, etc., with my usual means of locomotion:

I’m RUN-NING, Jenn-ay!

 

Along the way, I find a location that shares its name with my bedroom:

As in “givin’ perps the SPANK DOWN!” (don’t know what YOU thought)

 

So we go here and there, and everything’s pretty cool. THEN they send me to the last phone box, which is right HERE:

Seriously…Who they gonna call? “Hey, Baron Zoria. What was that last incantation again? Thanks, bro.

 

After I smack some CoT and free poor Jill from the Green Orb of Death, I get word that Detective Rondel Jackson, our man undercover in the Freakshow, may be in trouble. Oh, my! I guess I should get right over there and…

…beat up…other guys not…even close to him…(sigh)

 

After a nice long swim across the Engrish Channel (which is the English Channel, but using a bad google translator), I trundle around Talos, having one of those senior moments where I suddenly forget where the hell things are in this zone. Eventually, I locate some suitable prospects, get my booty Boardwalked by a purple Hewer who decided to stop by, then head back out for Green pastures (as in everything Green or below, and carry a lotta Greens in case Hugh Errrrrr stops in again). NATURALLY, I find large groups of yellows. Noooo problem, After getting Juiced by one gang (I assume the juice is that “super Coke” I drank in a previous mission), I finally say to myself, “Self - where would YOU be if you were a Freak?”

Why, practicing with my garage band, of course?

 

Done, and done.For my pains I get:

Hmmm…Milk, Taters, 3-in-1 oil…that’s some weird names, man.

 

Since I can’t make sense of this, I take the dang thing to Detective Jackson (OOOOH! I am fo’ REEEEEL!). Before that, a stop by the base, where I find Builder Bob (aka @Etched) has my dank a** covered:

I’m not worthy!

 

We collect a little rent from (dis)Able Cain:

More bone dust…hooookay…

 

Base porter puts me right next to RJ, who’s happy to receive the list (but doesn’t explain why the Freaks need 300 heads of cabbage and 1 industrial spool of 18-gauge copper wire).

 

By the way, THIS is our inside man>:

Man…you look FREAKY! Sooo…plain…

 

Flush with pseudo success, I call up Andy Fiore.Surely, I’ve now proven that I can handle the TOUGH ONES< right? RIGHT?

But…no…”Talk to the guy you’re standing next to.”...okay…I…got this…

 

Doh! Our inside man IS “Hand of Iron.” Not Plain Ron. (reading is fundamental - it ruins the surprise) I have to go get him in Booms, Jackson sez. Of course, I’M “Hand of Iron,” too, right? What if I get confused?

 

After being informed that confusion is my natural state, I take off, reassured I can do no further harm to kith, kin, and…pumpkin (I suppose). I head back to base, wondering if Builder Bob has the hook up for me, since hoofing it is wearing out my “Bat Cycle” (aka, the soles of my shoes). After a quick round of Kashmir backwards, I am in the zone.

Dat’s a big zone, man.

 

We hover for a moment, just taking in the natural beauty of this place:

…yuck…

 

After a leisurely flight (with my eyes closed, to avoid the yuck), I find da door. Time to beat up on a boss and some cronies.

A welcoming committee…joy…

 

Further in:

Even MORE joy…

 

The usual Freak shenanigans (I’m dead! Psyche! I’m up!), and a burst of confidence when Jump Kick actually crits (for 92 damage! YAY!...oh…not much is it?), I make my way to the intersection of a 4-way, where I discover that KB empowerment I took:

…it sorta works…

 

Meandering and pummeling. The place is big. And stinky. I think about changing into my white togs, just to defy the turd-smell. Before I can, though, I locate someone who looks suspiciously like a boss. Why?

He’s got a great “Freezeek.” Heh-heh…(ahem)

 

Freezeek’s villainous monologuing sounds a bit come-hither:

 

But it ends up like all my dates - with someone writhing on the floor in shame, and looking like this:

Stay for breakfast?

 

After Big Chief (a**) Swiper goes down, we level up. Back to IP to see Rondel “All’s Not Well” Son of Jackie. We hit the base (thanks to that TP straight to base thing we got from standing next to the 50,000 volt electrified column in KR (don’t worry - it’s DC - you won’t stick).

 

After determining that Disabled Cain is not a hero trainer, I decide to hit Ronnie up before levelling up. Seems “Iron Hand” is in trouble in AP. FINALLY, I’m off to meet my namesake- after stopping by Ms. Lib and complimenting her on that sword she never uses.

 

Lo and behold: one of my powers lets me jump HIGHER! FASTER! SPRINGIER! SPONGIER! (but not too springy, bc Super Jump is scary). I didn’t realize that. Who cares if it’s just a temporary effect. This bum be jumpin’! (imperceptibly higher).

 

Things are looking up. I get to fight pseudo-Nazis!

Weak pseudo Nazis…

Fist > than foot, bro. This time anyway.

 

I find my guy WAY in the back, and lo and behold:

Wt-haydee ho? You’re a traitor! BASTARD! Now you’ve got me:

Seeing RED! Feel my vigilante edge, homeslice!

I warned you, bronnaise...

 

A few more P-Nazi’s waltz in. We give ‘em the heave-ho. Then. we’re done! I’m still breathing red steam when I contact my buddy Rondel. And Holey Moley!

There’s a Costco VIP room! SLAMMIN’!

 

But more importantly:

I get a special pair of Ray Bans, and a slew of delicious MERITS!

 

I am one wascawwy Bat.

 

Edited January 26, 2023 by cranebump

[cranebump]

Year 1, Day Pop Tart (x2.7)

Devil Bat Gets Viggy wid it (again)

 

This episode, we go trom Atlas Park to right up your street! ("street" in no way being a metaphor for an orifice, or band of pirates, or stuff like that, but rather a way to colorfully present...I forgot what I was going to say...)

 

It’s Vigilante (or Hero) time again. Why? Why not? (have we EVER had a reason for anything we've done, thus far?).

 

But, no. We really should have some sort of rationale (if not rations, the K type [blech!]). So,  if we must, then this:

See? I can get El RICH! (I think…)

 

But URG! My choices!

Destruction of people and property? Or extreme happiness in pursuit of self-satisfaction? Damn you, you Sophie’s Choice of Missions!

 

Much as I want to slap Desdemona's a** (er…metaphorically…), I feel I can’t let her blow stuff up and hurt innocents (and Hellions. They're misunderstood).

 

So….

 

HERO TIME IT IS! (now with EX-TRA FLEX-A!):

Hitch a ride, there, brutha? No? (sigh) OFF TO TALOS!

 

(sigh) A whole BUNCH of Talos…

Hey, truckster! Catch a…ride? Hmmmm….(sniffs armpits, checks breath) Guess he don’t like mint & lilac (in that order).

 

FYI: Talos is not exactly a walk in the park for me yet.

(pst) Dude in the green shirt…What’s your secret, man?  I can't even get close to these guys, and you're all, "Don't mind me. I'm wearing khakis."

 

I arrive on Gdisitfar Island. Dangerous place. I better be REALLY careful, ‘cause this far flung patch of cliffs and demon worshippers doesn’t have a random phone booth.  I take an arrow right in the patootie, just for passing by! (that was mean, bro...real mean...)

 

Once inside something like looks like an Oran (Oren?) Burger hideout, I am greeted by chanting. After confirming it is most definitely not Doo-Wah-Diddy-Diddy-Dum-Diddy-Dumber, I gird my flank steak to take on the Circle of Shizz (time to get MEZZED! Or FLOPPED! Or [insert some other annoying things these morons do]). 

 

But I’m ready this time! First we start with the ol’ shimmy shake:

There she was. Just-a walkin’ down the street, singin’-

-doo wah diddy, I am kickin’ your a**. (ow…arrows…pointy…ow…)

 

And the hits keep on rollin’:

Ah’m a SOULLLL (less) MAGE! (Dah-dah-dah, da-dat-da-dahhhhhh)

 

Of course, THEN I get cocky. And we all know what THAT means:

Gdit, Leroy…

 

My new Cosi Fan Tutti power may help with the mezzes and stuff, but all that dark spirit world angel dust is a real bear (a big one...like the one that got Grizzly Man [hmmm...STILL too soon?]. And it's especially a bear when you don’t turn all your toggles on. Or open your Temp Powers tab. Or play like a dumbass.

 

So. Round 2:

Yeah, we might wanna try the OTHER tunnel…

 

Fine, then! Round 3:

Try THIS on for size, you Spectral Suckahs!

(sigh)...

 

Round 4:

It's not cheating if I really, really, enjoy it.

 

Needless to say, things go (a bit) better after that:

 

I even drag out Ol’ Betsy for the Coup de Gras:

This…is my BOOMSTICK!

 

In the end, the people are saved from almost certain temptation (er, destruction, I mean). But me? I need some a** salve. So, after our jaunt with Des’s destructive potentiality, I figure it’s time to slip back into the regular togs and visit the base, where, once again, @Etchedhas some surprises in store. Namely, I have a GD APARTMENT!

See that? That’s MY entryway, beyotches!  YEAHHHH, MUTHAF…er…{ahem} I mean

Welcome to DB Abbey. You may use the front entrance.

 

So, There’s a LOT of cool stuff to see. I mean it! LOTS. But before all that…

 

I’ve finally found you, kemosabe…

Ahhhhh…been holding that for 24 levels…

Okay, so LOTS of touches. I’ll highlight but a few, the ones that are truly “Batty.” Like here:

Plain ol’ office? Sure. But, of course, DB keeps a pair of binoculars handy (and a bottle of Jack, because, when you're window peeping from a distance, the less perspective on your actions, the better). Plus that fanboy poster! (sh…don’t tell anybody, but I think Manticore’s dreamy…that ain’t him? Okay, then THAT guy’s dreamy…somebody is…).

 

Think that’s kitschy? Not even close! Check out how I clip coupons:

Precision, ladies and gentlemen. Precision…

 

This is one of my favorites:

I can mix some guacamole in the mortar bowl while I tend to my server/stereo (as if I know where all these wires go). 

 

On the macro front, we got some nice, ocean front property we stole from the Council (no one bothered us about it, because who cares if Nazis fall prey to random eminent domain?). Which is cool, because no Casa Grande is complete without some views:

Yes! Views, baby!. Especially the view of THIS prominent landmark:

Man, if nothing else illustrates what goes on in my head, this certainly does.:-)

 

Yup…Really nice views of-

WHAT THE-! HOLY F*****’ HELL! HELLLLLLLLLLP!

 

I need a plan! I know! I’ll enlist the aid of my trusty sidekick, Ralph:

That’s it boy! Sit up! Beg! Roll over!...GOOD JOB! (you have lots of teeth, Ralph. LOTS of teeth…I love you?)

 

Okay, Ralph is damn busy with those fleas (though I'm not sure why so many nest in his nether region, and why he has to chew around there so much). C'est la Testicules. I'll have to come up with something else to deal with my Ritkto neighbors.

 

Firepower. I need some firepower. But I don’t want to have to buy 65 steaks at Daddy Yin's Bizarre Bazaar just to get the free rocket launcher. Hmmmm… I wonder if Bob managed to sneak in some heavy equipment? 

I’d call that a ‘yes.’

 

So, we leave it there, for now, with the Bat experiencing decision paralysis because he has 57 ways to blow sh*t up.

 

Of course there’s always THIS reliable option:

 

For the last time, John, I am NOT throwing 16 pizzas at the Rikti! The "Flying Sausage Fest" maneuver just does not work!

 

Peace out, peoples. And thanks again to @Etched (and his toon, Builder Bob) for sprucing up the Bat Digs. We'll try to prove worthy of the effort (with "try" being the operative word).

 

Til next time, STAY BATTY!

Edited February 3, 2023 by cranebump

[cranebump]

Year 1, Day Mangosteen

Devil Bat gets FLASHY!

 

Strange dreams inhabit the head of a young man in love...

 

They also flash through half-used craniums like mine. Specifically, "visions of times gone by that never were. "

 

And no, those aren’t Gordon Lightfoot lyrics. But rather, visions of the PAST (that never were). What I mean is, the Bat is headed to the super hot, super happ’nin’ realm of OUROBOROS!

…hello…Place sure is…jumpin’, eh?

 

But is Ouroboros “ouro-boring?” I think not! Why? This: FREE CALIMARI

Gimme sum o’ dat spongy goodness!

 

After getting trashed by some sort of "Godzilla lobster," I head toward my ACTUAL target. 

Kal-ee-MAAAAAAAA!

 

Why am I here? To go back in my past (that never was)! Turns out, in my rush to Batty-up, I may have missed a few things, namely long forgotten  stories with edgy titles, like this one:

…hmmmm…white after labor day…well, strike me off, Tim Gunn.

 

Officer Fields is mah man. So, of course, he immediately sends me away to AP to see Detective Pierce. Good guy. A bit gruff. Mole with a hair in it on his nose (don'tstaredon'tstaredon'tstare!) Interestingly, even "downsized" to L7, some things about my Battage remain the same. Namely:

Yep. I still have an airborne Evinrude strapped to my back.

 

So, first, Detective Pierce calls me a noob. I guess, since this is a flashback, I sorta am. Then again, maybe I’m perpetually a noob (It’s how I stay young, man!). Anyhoo, nasty business with missing body parts, which can only mean my old friends, the Vahzilok are…What’s that? I haven’t really met the Vahzilok yet? But I clearly remember the lingering poison, rusty blades and non-elective plastic surgery, so…Ah...very well then (hangs up phone). DAMN YOU, YOU TIME-TRAVELING CONUNDRUMS! (sigh) Okay, then - I’m officially a noob.

 

"Vahz? What’s that?" Thank goodness I’m a detective and can figger this stuff out. So off I go, using my SKILLZ!

Alright, I do see blood spatter here, indicating there may be a victim nearby…hmmmm…anybody see anything? Augustus? Tomas?...anybody?

 

Nothing there, so I best question “jaded woman,” a witness, evidently [yeah…sure…like she’s gonna know anything] {see? I can be jaded, too}. Initially, she’s not forthcoming:

I quickly put a stop to that:

C’mon, whassamatter? You chicken? Bakbakbakbakbakbak!

 

My subtle tactics pay off:

Me? Protect YOU? Watch THIS, lady!

See? If I can handle re-attaching those powerlines without insulation, I can SURELY protect YOU!

 

Assured by my extreme bravery in the face of lacking my journeyman electrician's permit (plus the fact that I sang Wichita Lineman while I self-spliced the power cables), Jaded Woman gives me the details:

Vahzilok! I knew i-, er, I mean, who?

 

Seems these fiends (whom I’ve never, ever heard of, not in any way whatsoever), have headed to the sewers (which I’ve also never, ever heard of, nuh-uh, no-way [what’s a soo-er?]). Before I go, though, something really needs to be dealt with, namely Scared Guy in the background. First off, bruh, your “scared pose:”

It's not bad, but I ain’t really buyin’ it. Looks like you’re about to shove a broad-shoulder wombat over a cliff. It’s more like:

Start with a contorted scream, then:

Bit of a toddler drop-and-roll to the ground, followed by:

A pelvic thrust that really drives them craa-a-a-a-aaaazy.

 

Get all that? Good. Now - I have to go to some place I never been, to beat the a$$es of people I’ve never met.

Eh. It’s a living.

 

Off we go! Still using the usual tactics:

First…the disappearing/reappearing fist to the face.

 

Then Ol’ "Empty Muzzle" gets in on the action:

Is that a BOOK!? DAMN YOU AND YOUR ATTEMPTS TO BETTER YOUR LIFE!

 

My Vahz whomping earns me another audience with Officer Fields, who sends me to a starlet. Or a hero. Okay, a starlet that was formerly a hero.  Got it (writing it down...making a little doodle to represent things visually...now a flowchart...now drawing a peni$...). Anyway, she’s talking to me and I get…distracted.

I…LOVE this movie! I’ve seen it 4,751 times! I’ve been IN it! I mean, not me, but…(swoon) soooo good (I have the autographs of BOTH the hydra heads).

 

I give the beatdown to some Vahz on the streets, where I find a note from Dr. Vahz himself! (er, I mean, who? Does he like me? Do I check the box, "yes or no?"). But it’s not about Doc V (bummer!). It’s about Joseph Botte! (who he you aks?)

 

Well, okay. Shivans and meteors and tests (oh, my!). This simply MUST be dealt with. I hurry off to-

 

Waitaminute…Whoa…

...Banksy?

 

I get his autograph anyway (just in case). Then, into a soo-er (strange name - I woulda called it a “turdhole” or something, but I’m not eloquent). Once in, things get monologue-y. I can hear Botte's voice echoing all over the place (because villains have, like, sonic vocal cords and depthless lungs). He's giving a dissertation that includes this nugget:

Oh, my…that’s not proper for a Ted Talk!

 

This will not stand (and if he has a book in his face, it'll stand even less!). I race through the stewage (I like that name better), eventually finding this:

What do they call this now? A villainous “lay-er?”

 

After dealing with his invulnerability device (where can I get one of those?), I deal with Botte’s Booty. As in kicking it.

But, Joseph, a low-interest loan from your friendly, local lender can accomplish the same thing! WITHOUT all the unnecessary surgery!

 

In the end, I wrap up things in the past in the same manner I often do in the present:

That’s right…drool over my badassery…er, I mean, “No problem, citizen!”

 

And, of course, the best thing:

I’m ri-...hang on a second…

 

Are we SURE it’s just 3?...uh, huh…oookay…no problem...

 

Excuse me a moment...

Why, Uncy Cyrus? WHYWHYWHY? ([sniff] Is that a lifesaver in your hand?)

Edited February 18, 2023 by cranebump

[cranebump]

Year Pi, Day Hoobstank

Into the Woods! (not literally, ‘cause that would send me to prison…you’ll see…)

 

After a brief hiatus to get corn chips, fresh off the line:

We’s soooo lucky, ain’t we Bobby?

 

DB swings back into action!

I am the DUSK! (and you are a water tower!)

 

Having gotten all the ogling I can get of Amanda Loomis, I use her for a reference (because if I try to use her for anything else, she will quite frankly crush my sorry arse). This leads me to a new friend-to-be, Kirsten Woods, who is:

…wayyyyyy up there in cornerville…yay…

 

So off we go:

And go…

And f’in GO…

Ahhhh…my adoring public…

 

Til finally:

What? I’m HERE, ain’t I?

 

So, Ms. closed-body-posture-no-way-you’re-going-to-impress-me gets right down to beeswax:

Not as tough as…some other people I know. Like Positron! Yeah. He’s tough, and all that.

 

Since I rate a 2.65 on the Toughometer (is it tuff-AH-meter, or TUFF-o-meter? I can never tell), I sproing into action!

 

But not in IP... Not anywhere, y’know NEAR to the contact, but rather:

Can’t you guys coordinate just a wee bit better, BS? Huh? HEY! I'm shrugging at you, bro!

Shut up, and run to the end of the zone, Bathead.

 

Oooooookey doke…

Boing…

Boing…

Boi-yoi-yoing (attacktheground!attacktheground!)

 

174 boiyoiyoings later…

Hi. Someone call for an ass whoopin’?

Put ya hands in the air like you just don’t…I mean, TAKE THAT!

 

It occurs to me here, that, if I can do this:

Why don’t I just get a normal job? (answer: I’m stupid)

 

I seem to have developed a new ability, y’all:

The Long Range, Psychopomp Drop Kick. Eat your heart out, Reed Richards!

 

But I still dig the old standbys:

Fist sandwich. Which extra mustard and relish (and other stuff…like bacon and soy sauce…yeah….)

 

I head on, looking for Crowe (and Tom Servo, and Mike, and that other robot), all the while trying not to ponder the logic of “Sky Raiders” operating in an office (Sky? What sky? Oh…a mural of the sunset…Yes, I see the tactical advantage now). No problem. Cuz they can’t run, run, run…

Run from my gun! (what the hell did I shoot at? Did I hit it? Do I care? No…I am kewl and edgy)

 

So, Crowe turns out to be about as tough as the Mystery Science Theater Crow. I slap him down, then play Red Rover with his Porter friend for a bit. In the end, I get some valuable clues:

Ahhhh…plans so precise, I can’t even relate them to you in detail. I can only moon eye over their precision and splendor (looks like a bunch of lines and squiggles, honestly. I place a doodle of Moana in the margins, just for good measure).

 

Back to the Woods. What does she give me? Another chance to prove myself! Not to HER, of course, but to this guy:

“Ask me not my name. Only know that I control your destiny…SKYWALKER!” (okay I sorta dropped that last thing in myself).

 

Off to the metaphorical equivalent of culling deer infestations in the suburbs:

Here, Bambi, Bambi, Bambi...

 

Keeping it in the Fam finally gets me in good with Woods. Sort of. She still sends me yon. Way yon. 

I’m getting the sense that there’s no real problem in IP, and she’s just sending me places to avoid my disconcerting, musky, gaze. (or maybe she just doesn’t like me, who knows?). In any case, I take on the case. Cos what ELSE am I gunna do?

 

Steel Canyon...6 pm (or a.m....there's a 6 there)...I arrive at le doore. My mission here is twofold:

The latter’s easy. I just keep one hand cupped around my…equipment. The former? I have to look for things! (damn…and me being blind and all…[she hates me]). (sigh)

 

Off I go:

Damn right there is! Why do you think my hand is here, protecting my…equipment…

 

Wanna see some sneaky sh*t? Check out the flyer on the left:

Hang on the corner and potshot me, will you? (well…I guess you will, I mean… you just DID…either that or I’m  doing my famous Crouching Handstand, Hidden Jackass move).

 

I finally locate one of the beleaguered profs. We have a quick dance off:

Then off he goes. Engineer quits the game. He thought we were playing twister, so I beat the sh*t out of him. (I'm an arse).

 

More Raiderness to follow. Our good walk gets spoiled by backpacky bystanders looking for a handout:

And here ya go, sucker!

 

It's not the most pleasant of walks, I must admit. 'Cause these labs, with all the vators and maze rooms:

Go here, go there. Come back here. Never mind. Go that way. Frankly, it’s enough to drive someone…(yeah, you can finish that one).

 

34 hours later, when I FINALLY find the 2nd of 3 (not Jim) Tremblers, I see a possible dicey situation:

Hmmmm…do I?

Was it even a question?

 

It gets a bit tough at the "corner of patrolling bad guys," because, of course, I miss one of the Engineers, so I have to spend some extra time spanking Raiders ‘cause of this stupid thing:

I hate you…

 

Clearing out the 4-pocket-lab-with-the-highly-valuable-equipment-that-you-can-use-as-a-punching-bag, I run into something interesting. It's happened before, but we've never really talked about it. Honestly, it makes me sorta sad, see, because:

Either I’m REALLY stealthy, and flyboy just doesn't see, hear, or smell me, OR...

He knows I'm there, and is just completely unimpressed. (FIGHT ME BRO! “um…no…”)

 

Eventually, I free everyone. AND I stumble upon the actual equipment I’m supposed to protect (besides mine), where I fight tactically and precisely, like those squiggly line planes the Raiders use. 

 

Or do I? (want to guess? never mind, I'll show you just how tactical I am)

 

TO THE FRAY! (oops...here they come...all of them...)

 

By the way - know what’s worse than 1 Force Field Generator?

Two forcefield generators (god, I am so stupid…)

 

It’s a LOOOONG damned fight. I pull a couple groups, then have to fight off like 10,000 waves of dudes trying to shoot the indestructible prostate examiner (or whatever it is). Thanks to my La Paloma Blanca Con Carne power, I keep my stamina up. SOMEHOW, I don’t die, AND my equipment escapes intact! (for once). All in all, it’s enough to make Kirsten VERY appreciative:

Hey, girl…I won’t tell…(don't hit me!)

 

With my tactical genius (or its reverse) explicitly proven, I decide to take a break and reward myself with a cold one:

An’ THAT’S how Ah beat them Skah Rayders, peanut…

 

TUNE IN NEXT TIME, FOR MORE ADVENTURES IN MAKING FIGHTS A LOT LONGER THAN THEY SHOULD EVER BE!

 

Edited March 5, 2023 by cranebump

[cranebump]

Day 87…or 24…or maybe this is the first day of the rest of my life.

This month: A Salute to (the biggest) April Fool(s)!

 

Yeah, yours is bigger, but mine’s…mine’s somethin’...

 

When last we met, DB had several contacts, none of them lenses. Just people. People with agendas. And bobby pins…Well, some of them…maybe…I’m just guessing here…

 

Anyhoo, one of them, my buddy Kirsten Woods, has this for me:

Y’know, I’m still sorta sore about that Rikti Ship hovering outside my apartment window. So, how’s about I get ahold of some o’ their tech and…wave it at them! With extreme prejudice!

 

Our trek to wreck the Rikti tech wreakers (or rather bandits, but that’s not alliterative) takes us to Faultline, where we hope and pray that Fussionette is not exercising her eternal death wish. Once there, it’s OFF TO THE MISH (and ignore all traffic lights, as per the youzh).

The Golden Gate Bridge? I…oh…never mind…I can buy that at Lowe’s (you can get anything there).

 

Everything is all sideways in FL. But, if I lean my head while I travel, it looks alright. This is fine. I do this in my personal life every day. Eventually, I enter a “spooky warehouse with long shadows (spooky? No. Now, if it had Long Johns…).

 

First, a quick pit stop:

Alright, that’s $6 worth of quarters. Surely this thing will work now.

 

After completely forgetting what all these buttons are for, I opt for my default stance:

Wheeeee, muthaf…hey, why ain’t you falling down?

 

We play a bit of tit-for-tat (though I see no burlesque dancers, this goes well):

See, now, this LOOKS like I got the worst of it, but really, I just obtained an inverse massage from Anathema, because, see, he’s ANATHEMA to the usual way of doing things. (What? I know words…)

 

5 Files to obtain. Along the way, I keep forgetting that (a) bullets hurt and (b) they have bullets. When these powers combine, it’s ass creme time for El Bat-O (for you fellow Texans, I am not saying “ice cream” in our accent). Sometimes, thankfully, the creme is for them, as when I do this:

I don’t know what this is, but them’s gonna be sum sunburnt Lost when they wakeup.

 

After some time of walking around, punching, and generally making small sunbursts out of thin air, I start to get frustrated because I can’t find a SINGLE FILE! Time to use my detective skills!:

These strange, fuzzy relics seem to be everywhere. Perhaps if I dig around a little bit, very carefully…very…gently…

 

Ahhh…screw it!

WHERE ARE THOSE DAMNED FILES?

WHERE ARE THEY? I’M FROM THE DMV!

Good for you, punkin’. Now, WHERE ARE THE GD FILES? WHERE! WHEREWHEREWHERE?

 

WHERE ARE THE-

Oh…um…(ahem)...there they are...thanks.

 

Charlton Heston…Roddy McDowell…Kim Hunter…wait a minute…This is the cast list for the original Planet of the Apes! (swoon…I owned the treehouse playset).

 

Okay, so off to find Dr. Zaius, and that gorilla general dude. Along the way, I discover that my revolver works much better at short range:

REALLY short range…

 

Trucking around, and finally find File #4, only to discover:

…every…gd…time…

 

After getting the production schedule for Apes (and pondering the irony of how I FOUND stuff among the LOST), I give Kirsten a buzz (not literally, because that’s a lawsuit, depending on location and manner of delivery). She follows up with a mission perfectly related to the Rikti, as in:

Not. At. All.

 

So-another “prove yourself, and mayyyyybe you can get my merits” moment. Whatever. I’m down! And up! I’m up and down. My team don’t mess around. Because I am the besssst, from the east to the wesssst, and…(ahem)...sorry…flashbacks from someone else’s life.

 

Recalling my earlier shenanigans with the Raiders, I very much know who to punch in the groin first:

You. Yes, you, you force-field creating bastard.

Then, you, you won’t-stand-still-and-let-me-punch-you a-hole.

Then you, because fire bad!

 

And then, you, because there’s no one else left:

…wait a second…is that a spray can full of fire there?

 

And let’s not forget YOU:

I MUCH prefer breasts to wings, sucka! (or, um, most anything else?)

 

But most of all:

I hate you…so much…

 

Found my first stabilizer, and one thing’s for sure:

This unit is NOT going to overheat anytime soon (Shop Fan. Extra Large. $49.99 at Lowe’s [natch]).

 

You know, on my list of Sky Raider a**holes, I forgot this guy:

JUMP BOT: "Sure…kill me…I’ll just explode and hurt you, Like, real bad...With MY WORDS!"

 

So, if you spend a little more at Lowe’s:

$79.99, but it has 4 settings!

 

I clear the whole damned building, after which Kirsten tells me SERAPH has created a neat gizmo I get to test. YES! A BAT CAR!

 

Or…

…oh…(sigh)...hoookay…

 

After trying it on a car (in hopes it will resequence it into something cool), I give in, and start hunting Lost. Strangely, they’re not hard to find (being Lost and all, you’d think…but never mind…I digress…).

 

The Lost FIND me, so I fire up the gadget:

Why am I bathing you in soothing warmth? Hey! SERAPH! What the hell IS this thing? 

 

18 more to go, so I head to the Row. (rhyme!)

Consider yourself…defeated…And stay off the crates!

 

After 6 and a half seconds of actual fighting L5’s when you’re 23, I finish the “test.” Kirsten only has a hunt mish now. Raiders in Terra Volta.  Fine…but I’m picking up a bank mish in Talos, because I am oh, so close to getting another FANTASTIC COSMIC POWAR! (or maybe a donut…we’ll see).The detectives alert me to Archon Moreno, who is up to no good, because they say so. I SWOOP in, using this hand-dandy landing spot:

The H is for Hero, right? RIGHT?

 

Council. Gotta show ‘em what I’m made of. Or maybe we can compromise. I mean, I've never really tried TALKING to these guys.

So. You have a gun. I have a gun. We have so much in common! So, what say we just talk this out, and…stop that…STOP THAT!

 

Let’s try this another way:

So. You like to kick. I like to (uselessly jump) kick. How about we…hey...HEY! OW! Gdit, OW!

 

Turns out bullets and steel-toed feet are bad for your endurance. I decide to stop talkin’ and start smackin’. And I don’t mean kisses! (well…maybe if one of them is REALLY cute…and he pays me…a LOT…) I get into a NASTY fight with a couple patrols. It’s lookin’ bad for our caped crusader when:

Oh…oh, you’re in so much trouble now, fellas...

Hi! Come n’ get me suckas! (but without the guns and boots, maybe? Hello?...No?...hookay...)

 

GrenadeTaserSpinningkickpunchjump annnnnd Boom! Done. And time to level up! What's my new power to be? It's...

 

…slots…of course…slots…okey doke…let’s just…

 

Hmmm..what the hay-dee ho?

I seem to have shown up during the Boston Marathon. HEY! Where you guys goin’? 

 

Obviously, there’s trouble here. Big trouble. The kind that needs a REAL hero. 

 

Only one thing to do!

Go get’em, BLUE STEEL! (ahhhhh…mango…)

 

And we end on the precipice of heading to TV for KW. For now, Springtime calls, as does this rubber donut. And out there, our invisible enemy lurks. Watching. Waiting. The worst villain of ALL!*

*I'm talking about allergies here. God, I hate Spring. Like, really, really, hate it. (plus I don't look good in swim trunks, so...)

 

Happy Trails,

Crane

 

Edited April 5, 2023 by cranebump

[cranebump]

After an interminable hiatus, we have discovered that Devil Bat has been operating UNDERCOVER! That’s right. To really get attuned to “the criminal mindset,” DB has decided to take a stroll on the unmild side. He promises to return VERY soon to relate his adventures. Provided he can extract that spider armor. That he found lying around next to some strange slag thingy. That attacked him, somehow welding the damned helmet on his head. After which he…

 

Sorry…already too many spoilers. Just watch this space, y’all. Rest assured, that deaf, dumb and blind kid WILL be (mostly) back.

 

P.S. Never prepay for an Uber with a Luddite. It’s a scam. They don’t even OWN cars, man…(sigh)

[cranebump]

No one asked for it…

No one demanded it...

Deep inside, they wished for the opposite...

But...

 

Here it is anyway…

 

Devil Bat - The Nature of EEEEEVIL! (EEeeeeEEEeEEEeeee (slow fade...) EEEEE! e…e…eee (and one to grow on)

Day Quatro-Quatro (and some change)...

 

Sometimes you find yourself in a malaise (not that bad-guy dude, but the actual condition). Like…you’re just floating on an endless sea…

Or maybe, you’re just floating in this little pool, wishing it were an ocean.

Okay, honestly, maybe you were just looking at murky-ass water in Perez Park (so you can use the abbreviation “PP” and laugh like a juvenile.

Heh..pee-pee…(sigh)

 

In any case, you’ve realized that (a) you don’t really know what you’re doing, because (b) you’re just too stupid. 

 

BUT:

 

Because of (b), you think you’re some sort of philosopher-king or something. So you take the deep dive into the question:

 

What is the TRUE nature of my struggle against EEEEeeeeeEEEeEeEeE..ee.ee.eeeevilllll..? (ill…ill…ill….) [As nearby Hellions look on, wondering, Why is that dude pretending to echo?)

 

In any case, you’re left with one recourse: to understand your enemy, you must BECOME your enemy.

 

Only one thing left, then:

 

GIVE YOURSELF THE BIRD!

Whoa, whoa, whoa. I just wanna be SORTA bad. But I ain’t dancin’ in one o’ these cage thingees in here, okay?

There, was that so har...Would you get this fiery red ball out of my eyes, please?

 

So now, we bad. Not like Michael Jackson bad (shaMON!), but sorta ZZ Top bad. Except we not nationwide (and not like insurance, but, like, not well known or anything).

 

In FACT: that’s the point. I want the WHOLE bad guy experience. Which means I need MORE than just the bird. I need some special help (which happens a LOT when you’re a special boy, like me).

 

Only one thing to do now…

Okay, so, um…anybody know how this thing works? There a..button I press, or…do I…(stick of dynamite?) What the hell guys, I…

 

Ohhh…NOW I remember…

This thing again. Derrr…(I get the junior time stone...yay...)

 

Fine then. Let’s do some villaining. FROM THE TOP! Our first task:

Now THAT sounds like a good deal! Let’s start there!

 

Okay, first thing I like about goin’ Red. Their love of irony:

Really? (snort) Okay…

 

Of course, while I’m here, I REALLY need to look the part. Hmmm, how best to achieve? Well, I DO want to win Arachnos’s favor, so:

 

Let’s fly their colors:

Whaddaya think, Ricky? You dig my number? Um…Rick?...Mister Rick?

 

Of course, villains are all menacing looking and stuff, so…let’s tryyyy…

EEEEVILLLLLL! (KAFF!) Urgh…these things are smoky!

 

In the end, seems my usual vigilante togs are enough. There’s just one problem…

I CANNOT GET THIS STUPID HELMET OFF!

 

Well, as a villain, I can only say BAH! And drive on. SO off we go!

 

First off, lemme say this. When Arachnos sends you somewhere:

You travel in style, my friend…

 

Once there:

The definition of a good start. 

 

And my Arachnos brothers? We’re making “Snake-n-Bake:”

An’ theyyy helped!

 

Even so, there's vibe here. 'Cause sometimes? Sometimes my Arachnos bros aren’t, em, very observant:

Or polite. (I’m getting my ass sliced with a scimitar (excuse me, a sssscimitar), and you’r tellin’ me it’s NOT in gear? )

 

After a while, all the backup seems a bit overkill:

Sheesh guys…Do you not think I can handle this?

 

Becomes rather routine rather quickly. But that’s Arachnos efficiency. Only Imperial Stormtroopers are that precise. (What’s that Arbiter Rick? An insult? Really? But I thought that…oookay…but you know you Arbiters DO wear white outfits with helmets and…I’ll shut up now…)

 

Anyhoo, with my edgy red tights and welded-on Spider helm, plus the 1/3rd of a snake skin under my belt (those mace-wielding yahoos took the rest), I’m starting to feel I already fit in. I mean, look at me with this guy - my “fellow,” nefarious baddie:

Hi…we’re villains…(pst…I can recommend a good cream for that sunburn ya got there…It’s NOT a sunburn? Yeee…)

 

My gal Kalinda liked “my” work so well, she’s sent me to do some extermination work in one of the Arachno-, er, that is one of OUR bases. So, off we go!

Okay, to be fair, it’s only strange because lavender interacts really weird with their skin. And honestly, some people LIKE the smell of bear sh*t! (none that I know, but, hey! This is the ‘everything’s okay’ era!). 

 

Regardless, these guys ARE a bit creepy:

Now doesn’t THAT remind me of my honeymoon! (Er…Crane? You’re not supposed to interject) Sorry...

 

Yeah, creepy. So creepy, in fact, that, well, let me put it this way: you know how, like, you’re not supposed fight dishonorably. Like, don’t kick someone when they’re already down and stuff? Well…

I just don’t believe in that right now…

 

Okay so this:

Is actually the result of a good Jump Kick (which actually works at this level). Now, what it LOOKS like is my Cirque du Soleil routine, where I balance an anthropomorphic snake on my nostrils. (which, now that I think about it, is way cooler than jump kick).

 

Deeper in we go, where we soon discover that:

Pappa does NOT love Mamba Blade. my GOD, man - that thing's as big as a...a...that thing's BIG!

 

Ultimately, I discover what may be their lair/HQ/bachelor pad/love nest. How do I know this?

Oh...I have my reasons...

 

Eventually, all this ex-snaker-nation leads to an encounter with this guy:

And yes…I am special. Mom said I was. Right she took me to that specialist.

 

Actually, MY question is, who’s the dude on the right? I mean, we know about Ssssssyrus. But can’t we get a name for “Snakey Redshirt #43?” Otherwise, he might as well be standing there spouting, “Yeah! Simple!” (I’m calling my fan up there, “Guy.” I mean, he’s obviously the plucky, comic relief…)

 

So, now that I’m a villain, how do I start a boss fight? 

FIRE IN THE HOLE! (what, I’m supposed to charge right in and give them a chance? I think not.)

 

I make short work of Syrus and his crew (sorry, Guy - this what happens when you choose the wrong friends). I am rewarded with glowing praise from Ms. Kal:

 

So, a good start. But it’s just that. Only a start. Ol’ DB intends to learn more about the dark side (but not Darkseid, bc that could be hazardous). Oh course, first things first:

SOMEONE GET THIS GD HELMET OFF ME! 

 

Redfully yours, 

THE DUSK!

 

Edited August 22, 2023 by cranebump

[cranebump]

EVILLLLL BAT (continued)

 

Day Grrrrrrr…(‘cause I’m:)

EEEEEEEEEEEVIL…(cough) illll…illl…illl…i…{aheam}

 

Our juant to the dark side turns sojournish, as the ol’ Bat ponders his next move. After making dozens of belts out of the Snakes (Why not salvage body parts? I’m EEEEVIL.), I ditch the silly helmet and red Vigilante togs for something more apropos:

Yeah…see what happens when you f*** with Nicky Santoro? You get…Hm? Nicky Santoro got beat to death and thrown in a hole then buried alive?...I see…Okay, then: see what happens when you are Nicky Santoro and I’m..those other guys?...Yeah, I THOUGHT so.

 

You’ll notice I got the helmet off. Managed to find this high tech solution called Vaz-o-leen or something. Slid right off. Yeah, my hair is a bit slick right now, but, eh, whaddaya gonna do? (Me? Wait for it to dry..it’s been 6 and a half days…we’re getting there.)

 

Speaking of getting there, the architecture here is something else. Some highlights on my hop, skip and lurk to Mr. Flashbacks:

Yeah, so uh, this Gozer the Gozerian, he a nice guy or what?

 

By the way, things are SUPER cheap over here? Ever wonder why?

Who knew?

 

Soooo..what shall we do? Hmmm…I’m looking for someone TRULY villainish. Like, the inside of the villain pie. Not the crust, because all villains are crusty as hell. No. Someone with substance. Like maybe…

This pissed off dude…

 

I love how certain Redside is. They’re WRONG (no wonder they get punched a lot).

 

OFF WE GO! FOR EEEEEEVIL (a small dose-not enough to sway me forever).

 

We head to the ironically-named Mercy Island, seeking to boot the ‘Bow out their base. And such. As long as the alliteration announces all our, er…aaantentions (egad…I’m a blithering blatherskite now).

 

As I head to Merk, by way of Cap and Ferry, I buzz by the local suppliers, who work out of trucks, rather than those stupid WW domes (ahhhh…the smell of diesel…it…sucks, actually). 

 

We peruse their wares, and I’m thinking villains have to be prepared for all SORTS of strange eventualities:

Hmm..I’ll take…1 ancient urn…2 Clockwork torsos…And how about you toss me some of those 40-watt speakers there? Oh -- and half a barrel of radioactive waste, please. Thanks…Got any donuts?

 

More irony in irony land:

Yeah, I’m coming to kick your a**, using one of YOUR jetpacks...Okay, it’s ALMOST your jetpack…It’s red & white, okay?

 

So, after diving in, I’m thinking, my employers are REALLY bringing me along slow:

Wow...one punch…I feel this may not be an adequate test of my abilities. Further, if I may ask:

How about we talk to these guys? I can glare them into coughing up info! No? Okay then how about…

…THESE guys? I mean, we already have them. Further, couldn’t we:

-just send in all THESE guys? I mean, they’re not doing anything. And these Longbow guys seem to be REAL pussycats, so…(sigh) Ooookay. The usual way it is! ([sigh] Recluse has hired like, 10 thousand Bebops and Rocksteadies, man)

 

Okey-doke, so: Kuzmin is sending me after some stupid, frilly hero named Golden Palm, who's known for staying in the bathroom a REALLY LONG TIME (or maybe not, but, really - GOLDEN palm?...dude…Don't you know me? You're just asking me to go there). In keeping with the upbeat atmosphere here, my appropriately-named mish is:

That’s nice. But really, granny - how many times have I asked you to stop naming my msissions? (thanks for the cookies, btw)

 

Off we go to question prisoners. Evidently the ones I laid out like Sunday school clothes on the bed earlier. Or…something like that. I notice that, when negotiating while Redside, we don’t just ease into it:

Nothing about offering cake or bacon. (Do these guys know ANYTHING about human nature?)

 

After I describe in painful detail how I’ll be enjoying bacon and he won’t, Mr. Law-and-Order-and-Semi-Justice coughs up the info:

Actually, it’s the info and a plan I can follow. I feel like they didn’t screen very well when hiring this dude…

 

I stealthily make my way to the Technician’s Streetfood Convention (seriously…they’re everywhere). I know that, as a villain, I should avoid witnesses, so I very carefully…

NO WITNESSES! STRIKE!...er, NO MORE THAN 4 WITNESSES! STRIKE!

 

Now to set some bombs! Once again:

NO WITNESSES!

er…VERY FEW WITNESSES! (What are you staring at, mister? Nothing to see here. No, these aren’t detanators they’re…old Sega controllers…yeah…)

 

So, I set the bombs, and…well..

Evidently I had some issues with the timers. Yessiree Kuz. It won’t be a problem ANY more. Neither will the Vasoline in my hair. Yeah, it’s...all on fire…I…no longer have hair…or a face…Fine, thanks for asking…

 

Thankfully, Ms. Facemaker remakes my face. I’m as handsome as ever (which…is not that much, so…refund?) I call in to Kuzmin, thinking, SUCCESS, BRO! But, no:

You’ve got to be kidding…I gave up my hair for the WRONG BASE? (sigh)

 

Turns out that was just A base. This is THE base:

Doesn’t ANYBODY care what happened to my hair?

 

Fine! You’ll pay for that!

We’re mixing it up, and Longbow maître d' is like “CHECK THE LIST!” (What, do I need an invitation?)

 

FYI: while you fight the reception team to get their togs, the desk phone rings the whole time (*it really does…nice touch).

 

Soooo:

Yeah, this is Bat..senson. Batsenson…I’m new…A Villain? Um, yeah,there WAS one here, but…they’re on the list? (click)...oops…

 

FYI: Longbow seems a bit disorganized:

Guys…really…if you want to stop someone, maybe, I dunno, cover the whole door frame?

Hey, there! Nuthin’ to see here. Just lookin’ for ol’ Golden Palm…He in the bathroom maybe?

 

I play the sneaky snake, walk right past GP and his LB buddy, where I cleverly set my plan into motion…

Gently...gently…

Wow…That was quite the explosion. Ooh! Guns! I’ll play!

 

Ambush breatup, then we run into this guy on the way out:

You know…I kinda want to leave you to die. That color scheme is freakin’ hideous man.

 

Yeah, yeah, I save him. I mean, this villain thing? It’s only temporary.

 

(That’s what YOU think, Devil bat…)

 

What? Who’s that?

 

(Me.)

 

Who?

 

(Me! As in you! [sigh] I’m your inner dark voice.) 

 

Yeah? Well…whaddayou want? Kuzmin’s waiting on me.

 

(I want…YOUR SOUL!...and a breath mint)

 

Um…I’ll see what I can do.

 

(Good! And make it Andes candies, please. Yorks are too harsh).

 

Eh…will do…

 

(Thank you. We'll meet again! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA {KAFF!} HA!) 

 

**POOF!**

 

...Okay, Hell with that. He’ll eat what I give him.

 

I check in with my boss. He’s giddy! (or maybe sullenly gleeful?)

Oh, are you? I can answer where I’m going right now, brutha:

SUMMER’S NOT OVER! I KNOW IT ISN’T!

 

(Pst...Devil Bat. It IS.)

 

Shut up! I'm not crying, you're crying! (sniff)

Edited September 4, 2023 by cranebump