Thursday, June 30, 2005
Storytime 1: Creamy or Extra-Crunchy?
This is my first post of my scribblings to this blog. It was writ in early '03 and has been posted on a couple messageboards about that time. One of those boards no longer exists and the other has been very quiet.
This was written for fellow comicgeeks, aimed especially at the fans of DC's Golden Age characters and all the retroactive stories and characters that have been added to DC's history. Many non-comicgeeks will be left scratching their heads.
Thus, an introduction:
Alexi Sivana (my nom de Net) was originally created to be the true identity of the Ultra-Humanite, a long-time DC villain (most recurrently a foe of the JSA). It has been mentioned in passing at least once that UH may not remember his real name, due to the brain transplants. I gave him one. The significance of the name is rooted in DC's Crisis on Infinite Earths and is a long one. I may get around to explaining it in a future lecture on geekery.
Johnny Thunder, while having (access to) a power in his own right, was the JSA's bumbling comedy relief. He may or may not be dead now.
Starman was also in the original Jsa and was the first in a line of heroes. His son retired as Starman and the current bearer of his cosmic rod is Stargirl (a member of the current JSA).
Sandman was another member of the original JSA. When he passed on, his (then) kid sidekick Sandy inherited his prophetic dreams and with other powers joined the current JSA as Sand. Sand is currently MIA.
Crimson Avenger is considered by many to be DC's first masked mystery man (what they called superheroes in the old days) and was a member of the Seven Soldiers of Victory. He's dead and a new Crimson Avenger is on the scene.
Flying Fox was a Native American from northern Canada. Given shamanistic powers by his grandfather, he joined the Young All-Stars, a teen auxilary to the All-Star Squadron (a super-group of almost all the mystery men operating during WWII). His current whereabouts or fate are unknown.
That should be enough to get you started. But I will post links to the above names over time to (potentially) help.
CREAMY OR EXTRA-CRUNCHY?
A condiment commendation from 1948
by Alexi Sivana, CRSVaL
As I recall it was 1948, and I was hiding out in Montreal. The mystery men once again thought me dead. All on account of that damned Johnny Thunder.
My last attempt at world domination had been a giant robot I was operating via remote control. I was going to take over post-war Japan and then..... Ah, never mind. Needless to say it didn't work. That clumsy Thunder stumbled into Starman, who dropped his Cosmic Rod, which stuck in a crack in the asphalt. The robot stepped on the rod, which cracked upon puncturing the foot, frying the robot and sending a feedback through the link back to my HQ, which (temporarily) fried me. On top of that, the blast blew me out of the building and into the sea.
Damned Johnny Thunder.
Anyway, I had been pulling jobs in the Triplets (NYC, Gotham and Metropolis) to get the money together for my next attempt. (Don't ask. It didn't work either. Sigh....) Sandman and the Crimson put two and two together and I thought it an opportune time to make my exit north.
Maybe I shouldn't have traveled by train.... Maybe I shouldn't have started pulling similar jobs once I got to Montreal.... Maybe..... Water under the bridge (or possibly a Stream of Ruthlessness through the Colorado grotto)..... I made a mistake. Sandman and Crimson followed me, enlisting the aid of Flying Fox to track me.
It was late. They caught up with me in a jewelry store, after hours. A battle ensued. We crashed through one business after another. I grabbed whatever I could find to use against them. Unfortunately the best I could do was in a bowling alley. Butter-substitute spilled on the floor and a couple well-thrown bowling balls slowed them down for a moment.
But only a moment.
After that came a gift shop, a corner grocery and a storage room, where I hid, with a still warm coffee urn, trying not to gasp as I checked for broken ribs and fingers. (One cracked rib from a can of cream corn, two broken fingers from a bowling ball.) I could hear sirens in the distance and I knew it wouldn't be long before Flying Fox would be able to find me with his magicks.
I didn't have time for anything big. It had to be quick. It had to be simple. It had to work against all three of them.
I smelled peanuts.
In my grouch bag I found a can of peanut butter split open (yeah, it was canned in those days) and scooped up a taste with my good hand. The peanut butter had splattered on my (few) ill-gotten gains ("You got peanut-butter on my diamond necklace!" "You got your necklace in my peanut-butter!") and the things I snagged in our rampage: a couple Zippos, lighter fluid, balloons, a can of chili, tape, ribbon, part of a now-broken bowling trophy and straws. In the storage room were boxes of I-don't-know-what, piles of newspapers and a few metal tubes.
A smile played across my face as I realized the trio of heroes all had one thing in common and I quickly downed a mug of coffee and went to work.
I set one of the tubes upright on the cement floor, stuffed wads of paper in the bottom, which I sprayed with lighter fluid. Setting the paper alight, I placed the can of peanut butter on the makeshift chimney and proceeded to melt it. I just hoped I had enough time. And coffee.
Once the peanut butter was sufficiently melted, I poured and forced it into the balloons using the straws. The whole procedure was complicated by my broken fingers and to this day I don't know why they didn't find me before I was finished. Possibly they were interrupted and had problems with the local police. There's no way to know at this late date.
But at least it gave me time to finish. I had 6 peanut butter balloons. A 7th burst in the process, but I was able to clean up to some small degree with the newspaper. My plan would not work cornered, so I gingerly loaded my grouch bag with the balloons and went to meet my tormentors.
I found them in a parking lot, inching slowly forward, police trailing a few paces behind. Flying Fox was in the lead casting some incantation while he walked. I guessed it was a locating spell to find me. As they were going to see me in a moment anyway, he was the least of my worries. Crimson and Sandman had their guns drawn. They came first.
One claim to fame I SHOULD have, but don't, is that I have damned fine hand/eye coordination. The first balloon hit Crimson square in the face, the second hit Sandman's gas gun, making it useless. The third I aimed at Flying Fox's medicine bag.
By this time I was standing upright. I was screaming something about my new invention: an acid-glue that stuck to and burnt flesh & bone. Lying my ass off to scare off the cops. It worked. The fourth and fifth hit Fox and Sandman in the face. The sixth I threw at the police to scatter them.
And that, my friend, is pretty much the whole story. No wonder the heroes never reported it. Would you want it to be known that you had been bested by peanut butter? Of course, if I had lost, I would be a laughing-stock amongst the spandex crowd.
I found out later, in a verbal battle with Sandman, that at the time they didn't even know it was me! Probably the most angry I have ever seen him. I don't think he ever told the others.
Heh. And as I sit here writing in my journals, I can see that self-same bowling trophy on the fireplace's mantle, a monument to absurdity and the power of caffeine.
This is my first post of my scribblings to this blog. It was writ in early '03 and has been posted on a couple messageboards about that time. One of those boards no longer exists and the other has been very quiet.
This was written for fellow comicgeeks, aimed especially at the fans of DC's Golden Age characters and all the retroactive stories and characters that have been added to DC's history. Many non-comicgeeks will be left scratching their heads.
Thus, an introduction:
Alexi Sivana (my nom de Net) was originally created to be the true identity of the Ultra-Humanite, a long-time DC villain (most recurrently a foe of the JSA). It has been mentioned in passing at least once that UH may not remember his real name, due to the brain transplants. I gave him one. The significance of the name is rooted in DC's Crisis on Infinite Earths and is a long one. I may get around to explaining it in a future lecture on geekery.
Johnny Thunder, while having (access to) a power in his own right, was the JSA's bumbling comedy relief. He may or may not be dead now.
Starman was also in the original Jsa and was the first in a line of heroes. His son retired as Starman and the current bearer of his cosmic rod is Stargirl (a member of the current JSA).
Sandman was another member of the original JSA. When he passed on, his (then) kid sidekick Sandy inherited his prophetic dreams and with other powers joined the current JSA as Sand. Sand is currently MIA.
Crimson Avenger is considered by many to be DC's first masked mystery man (what they called superheroes in the old days) and was a member of the Seven Soldiers of Victory. He's dead and a new Crimson Avenger is on the scene.
Flying Fox was a Native American from northern Canada. Given shamanistic powers by his grandfather, he joined the Young All-Stars, a teen auxilary to the All-Star Squadron (a super-group of almost all the mystery men operating during WWII). His current whereabouts or fate are unknown.
That should be enough to get you started. But I will post links to the above names over time to (potentially) help.
CREAMY OR EXTRA-CRUNCHY?
A condiment commendation from 1948
by Alexi Sivana, CRSVaL
As I recall it was 1948, and I was hiding out in Montreal. The mystery men once again thought me dead. All on account of that damned Johnny Thunder.
My last attempt at world domination had been a giant robot I was operating via remote control. I was going to take over post-war Japan and then..... Ah, never mind. Needless to say it didn't work. That clumsy Thunder stumbled into Starman, who dropped his Cosmic Rod, which stuck in a crack in the asphalt. The robot stepped on the rod, which cracked upon puncturing the foot, frying the robot and sending a feedback through the link back to my HQ, which (temporarily) fried me. On top of that, the blast blew me out of the building and into the sea.
Damned Johnny Thunder.
Anyway, I had been pulling jobs in the Triplets (NYC, Gotham and Metropolis) to get the money together for my next attempt. (Don't ask. It didn't work either. Sigh....) Sandman and the Crimson put two and two together and I thought it an opportune time to make my exit north.
Maybe I shouldn't have traveled by train.... Maybe I shouldn't have started pulling similar jobs once I got to Montreal.... Maybe..... Water under the bridge (or possibly a Stream of Ruthlessness through the Colorado grotto)..... I made a mistake. Sandman and Crimson followed me, enlisting the aid of Flying Fox to track me.
It was late. They caught up with me in a jewelry store, after hours. A battle ensued. We crashed through one business after another. I grabbed whatever I could find to use against them. Unfortunately the best I could do was in a bowling alley. Butter-substitute spilled on the floor and a couple well-thrown bowling balls slowed them down for a moment.
But only a moment.
After that came a gift shop, a corner grocery and a storage room, where I hid, with a still warm coffee urn, trying not to gasp as I checked for broken ribs and fingers. (One cracked rib from a can of cream corn, two broken fingers from a bowling ball.) I could hear sirens in the distance and I knew it wouldn't be long before Flying Fox would be able to find me with his magicks.
I didn't have time for anything big. It had to be quick. It had to be simple. It had to work against all three of them.
I smelled peanuts.
In my grouch bag I found a can of peanut butter split open (yeah, it was canned in those days) and scooped up a taste with my good hand. The peanut butter had splattered on my (few) ill-gotten gains ("You got peanut-butter on my diamond necklace!" "You got your necklace in my peanut-butter!") and the things I snagged in our rampage: a couple Zippos, lighter fluid, balloons, a can of chili, tape, ribbon, part of a now-broken bowling trophy and straws. In the storage room were boxes of I-don't-know-what, piles of newspapers and a few metal tubes.
A smile played across my face as I realized the trio of heroes all had one thing in common and I quickly downed a mug of coffee and went to work.
I set one of the tubes upright on the cement floor, stuffed wads of paper in the bottom, which I sprayed with lighter fluid. Setting the paper alight, I placed the can of peanut butter on the makeshift chimney and proceeded to melt it. I just hoped I had enough time. And coffee.
Once the peanut butter was sufficiently melted, I poured and forced it into the balloons using the straws. The whole procedure was complicated by my broken fingers and to this day I don't know why they didn't find me before I was finished. Possibly they were interrupted and had problems with the local police. There's no way to know at this late date.
But at least it gave me time to finish. I had 6 peanut butter balloons. A 7th burst in the process, but I was able to clean up to some small degree with the newspaper. My plan would not work cornered, so I gingerly loaded my grouch bag with the balloons and went to meet my tormentors.
I found them in a parking lot, inching slowly forward, police trailing a few paces behind. Flying Fox was in the lead casting some incantation while he walked. I guessed it was a locating spell to find me. As they were going to see me in a moment anyway, he was the least of my worries. Crimson and Sandman had their guns drawn. They came first.
One claim to fame I SHOULD have, but don't, is that I have damned fine hand/eye coordination. The first balloon hit Crimson square in the face, the second hit Sandman's gas gun, making it useless. The third I aimed at Flying Fox's medicine bag.
By this time I was standing upright. I was screaming something about my new invention: an acid-glue that stuck to and burnt flesh & bone. Lying my ass off to scare off the cops. It worked. The fourth and fifth hit Fox and Sandman in the face. The sixth I threw at the police to scatter them.
And that, my friend, is pretty much the whole story. No wonder the heroes never reported it. Would you want it to be known that you had been bested by peanut butter? Of course, if I had lost, I would be a laughing-stock amongst the spandex crowd.
I found out later, in a verbal battle with Sandman, that at the time they didn't even know it was me! Probably the most angry I have ever seen him. I don't think he ever told the others.
Heh. And as I sit here writing in my journals, I can see that self-same bowling trophy on the fireplace's mantle, a monument to absurdity and the power of caffeine.
Look at me!!! I'm blogging! I'm bloooogggggiiiinnnnggggg!!
(with apologies to Bill Murray)
Y'know..... I just know remembered I had started a blog. It took a combination of mentioning that I had written a little ficiton to some people and reading The Darth Side for me to remember.
Obviously, I have too much blood in my coffee-system....
Anyways, here's some odd links I've run across:
Star Trek New Voyages
which is producing seasons 4 and 5 of classic Trek!!
Batman: Dead End
which has the a Joker that HAS to have been inspired by the excellently creepy Arkham Asylum.
And there is a familial connection between the Dead End and New Voyages projects, which I will let you discover on your own.
(with apologies to Bill Murray)
Y'know..... I just know remembered I had started a blog. It took a combination of mentioning that I had written a little ficiton to some people and reading The Darth Side for me to remember.
Obviously, I have too much blood in my coffee-system....
Anyways, here's some odd links I've run across:
Star Trek New Voyages
which is producing seasons 4 and 5 of classic Trek!!
Batman: Dead End
which has the a Joker that HAS to have been inspired by the excellently creepy Arkham Asylum.
And there is a familial connection between the Dead End and New Voyages projects, which I will let you discover on your own.
