“You ought to do something about that, it's messy.”
Bibbles raised an eyebrow. “Do you have two pieces of identification or not?”
Nuklear Man’s expression told the world that he just discovered that he had become the very living incarnation of genius. “Yeah, I've got two pieces of identification. In fact…” He paused for dramatic effect but it just made Bibbles yawn widely. Nuklear Man opened his arms wide to encapsulate the whole of the city. “I've got eleventeen million pieces of identification right here!” he declared, beaming his proud grin at the populace of the city.
“Outta the road, you freaks!” a passing motorist yelled as he drove by. As it has been mentioned, the citizens of Metroville were used to vacating an area at the first sign of a Climatic Battle of Good Against Evil. They were equally apt at returning to their daily routines as soon as Good was victorious.
Bibbles stared blankly at the muscle-bound buffoon in front of him. He was tired, even by his standards, and had several million other deliveries to make before lunch.
“Yeah, whatever, here.” He handed the letter to Nuklear Man.
“Goody!” Nuklear Man looked back down at Bibbles. The alien’s probability of existence began shifting to a universe slightly to the left. He became incorporeal from the inside out.
“Bye!” Nuklear Man said with a wave. “Now then!” An anxious and excited look broke out across Nuklear Man’s heroic visage as he clumsily opened the stamp-covered envelope.
Inside was—surprise, surprise—a letter. He opened it with fumbling fingers. It read:
Dear “Nuklear Man”,
Happy Birthday!
Dad
His excitement faded. It was replaced with confusion and even a twinge of anger. He looked skyward.
“Dad?”
But the clouds above held no answer.
“Nuklear Maaaaan!” The voice was distant and somehow familiar, as if in a dream. Like a link to his past!
“Faaaather!” Nuklear Man cried out.
“What? Fath—no. Nuke! It's me, Atomik Lad. Faithful sidekick through the good, the bad, and your incompetence.” He was nineteen, slim, but athletic from a lifetime of thwarting evil. He wore a full body outfit of spandex-like material the same as Nuklear Man, only the sidekick’s was a more complex combination of dark red and blue. In the center of his chest was a radiation hazard symbol with a red A in it that melded into the red of the uniform. His hair was a wavy light brown mass that reached to the bottom of his ears. A field of crimson energy surrounded him, twitching and lashing like a roaring fire burning in all directions at once. He landed next to Nuklear Man and it vanished. “You hungry?”
“Starved!” Nuklear Man said. “But I just found a clue to my mysterious past which has haunted me lo these many years.”
“Wanna check out a new restaurant? Cap'n Salty's House of Fugu? I got coupons.”
“Coupons? You make a compelling case. I’m sure my faultless memory will have no trouble reminding me about…oh, whatever it was.” Nuklear Man posed and flexed while pointing skyward, “Onward, Atomik Lad! Ha-ho!” he bellowed dramatically as he shot into the sky like a golden bullet.
Atomik Lad sighed. “It's just lunch, Nuke.”
“My car!” A man's voice, shrill with disbelief, rang out near the bank. A pile of rubble that had once been a very sturdy part of the bank’s wall now lay atop his destroyed SUV. Atomik Lad hunched over and wished he had coat lapels to pull over his face. He beat an extremely conspicuous retreat around a corner. Red light splashed across the alley walls and Atomik Lad took to the skies surrounded by a fiery field of crimson.
Sirens could be heard in the distance as rescue workers and Überdyne Reclamation teams rushed to the scene.
“I'll see you in court!” the man screamed uselessly at Nuklear Man's figure as it diminished into the distance.
__________
The two Heroes soared over Metroville. Nuklear Man admired the shiny towers of glass and steel, true testaments to the might of humankind and the height to which society had risen, far higher than even the highest skyscraper. Since Nuke had a nasty habit of flying where he looked, Atomik Lad had to steer him away from running through them.
Nuklear Man gave an approving thumbs up with a wink. “Cap'n Salty's is just ahead!”
Atomik Lad looked at him, “You don't even know where it is.”
“Do so...I was ah, just there yesterday. Hmmphf!”
“Were you now?”
“Yes. A Hero never lies. Write that down or something.”
“All right then, what'd you have?”
The Hero was momentarily set back, but his tenuous foothold on reality let him concoct a story of amazing credibility. “Er, ah. I had the Cherry, um, gufu.”
“You mean ‘fugu’.”
“…You heard what I said.”
Atomik Lad sighed as he looked at Nuklear Man who was having a hard time maintaining eye contact. “You don't even know what fugu is, do you?”
“Try to accuse me, of all people, of not knowing what flugu is. Feh!”
“All right then, Nuke. Lead the way to the restaurant.”
Nuklear Man smiled triumphantly for the 4.71 seconds that it took him to remember that he didn't know where Cap'n Salty's was after all. “Ah...why don't you, just for a change of pace mind you, lead the way? Yeah! It'll be a good experience for you. Confidence building. Empowering. Fun!”
“Sure thing.”
“Whew, covered my tracks pretty good,” Nuklear Man thought he said to himself.
“What was that, Nuke?”
“WAH! Er, I said, ‘Habadda, habadda, I likes food?’”
Knowing full well what the Hero had really said and merely wanting to torture his strained intellect, Atomik Lad let it drop. “True, good point.”
“Whew, covered my tracks pretty good.” Nuklear Man thought he said to himself again, but Atomik Lad didn't bother to respond.
Atomik Lad took the lead as per the Golden Guardian's advice. They soared through the pure air, weaved between workplaces and apartment complexes, and waved at those below.
Nuklear Man called ahead to his sidekick, “Say, Atomik Lad, could I see the coupons?”
“Sure,” Atomik Lad said, looking back at his mentor. He dug into his pocket and slowed down as the Hero sped up. “Here,” the sidekick said, reaching the coupons back.
Nuklear Man grasped for the two pieces of paper but in the middle of the transaction a rather surprised pigeon invaded his air space. “ACK!” the Hero tried to say through a mouthful of bird.
Atomik Lad's eyes widened, “Nuke! The coupons!” he pointed where the coupons flittered to the ground far below. They danced like insanity with the wind.
“MMMMM—Sptooey!—NNNNNNNOOOOO!” Nuklear Man exclaimed.
“Now what?” Atomik Lad asked in despair.
Nuklear Man's voice was steeled with determination. “We search!” His Nuklear Sight absorbed every detail for miles as he swept from one horizon to another, “There!” he posed a point, “They're landing in Anderson Circle Garden. If we hurry, we can get 'em before they get all icky gross and sticky with leaves and dirt or maybe stuck in some gum—”
“Nuke!” Atomik Lad yelled in exasperation. “C'mon!” He waved the Hero forward while heading down to the park.
“Oh. Oh yeah!” Nuklear Man followed suit.
__________
Issue 2 – So Many New Characters!
In the lush Anderson Circle Garden, the merry citizens of Metroville frolicked in the warm sun and cool breeze. Some were skating, others were jogging, a few were performing as street entertainers, and the staple elderly people were sitting on park benches feeding birds and fluffy tailed rodents.
“Ah ain't no ‘elderly people’ ye stick-armed laddie!”
And then there was Angus, the Iron Scotsman.
“Ah said, eat ye damned feed, ye bloody rats!”
Angus's doctor had prescribed a strict regimen of relaxation i
n an attempt to lower the hero's volcanic blood pressure. “Rest and relaxation with absolutely no aggravation,” were his M.D.'s exact words. The Iron Scotsman complied by sitting on park benches and feeding the squirrels.
This compliance aggravated him greatly.
Wearing a fearsome and intimidating Iron: Battle Suit apparently frightened squirrels so they were few and far between. The fact that he was feeding them Momma McDougal's Haggis Bits wasn't helping either. Seeing the other animal patrons attract a larger audience aggravated him which aggravated him more because he hated squirrels even more than the elderly which further aggravated him because he was supposed to be relaxing which was an aggravating practice in its own right.
“ARGH!” he howled in rage and hurled the box with Momma McDougal's nurturing face at a pack of animals huddled around a more successful elderly couple. He picked up his helmet. It bore the enraged visage of a fierce bearded Scotsman and did nothing to help gain the attention of squirrels. Angus hopped off the bench because he was, to be kind, of below average human adult height.He stormed off with blackened clouds of anger over his head. While walking to no particular destination he saw two objects flutter from the sky. He snatched them angrily from the air with his spiked gauntlet.
He suspiciously examined the crumpled papers. “Half Off Sale? All the Fugu Ye Can Eat? Cheap food! Ah loves it!” The clouds lightened a bit, but hung nonetheless. With a bounce in his step, the Surly Scot made his way to the House Cap'n Salty built.
But, not too far down the litter free trail, Angus encountered a group of mimes practicing their fine art. He considered demonstrating his Surprisingly Concealable and Wieldly Enemy-B-Crushed Named Bertha on each of them in a rather random and violent manner. The mighty club was a testament to pain: as thick as a steel girder and twice as dense, covered in spikes and studs, and adorned with rude limericks about your mother. It was a beautiful weapon.
However, Angus's mime mangling was not to be. In the evil, evil shadows lurked an evil, evil form. It slinked, it snuck, it scuttled. All with the intent of reaching the stout Scot.
At last it was near enough. A hand slowly emerged from the depths of the shadows...
Angus's grip on his massive Enemy-B-Crushed tightened. Veins popped up from his leathery skin, “This'll huurt ye a lot more'n it’ll hurt me,” he whispered longingly.
The shadowy hand hovered just behind the Scotsman's exposed neck. It struck like a snake—ZZZZZZZT!
“BWAAAAAAAAAH!” Hundreds of volts of electricity coursed through Angus's iron laden body. He jumped forward, brandishing the graphic club that was, until then, unseen. “Ye got bite, but Ah bite back, lassy!”
From the shadows of a centennial tree a sleek sexy figure stepped into the light of day. She wore a white lab coat that reached to the bottom of her shapely calves and waved in a suddenly present breeze. Under the coat a black rubber body suit that emphasized each of her perfectly seductive curves in all the right ways clung enticingly against her. Her hair shone with its blackness as the wind tossed thin silken locks into her exotic face. She was something straight out of a How To Draw Fan Service book. She holstered a tazer and squinted her eyes in the sunlight as she stared at Angus's static frizzled beard.
She spoke with a thick Transylvanian accent, “You ought to look into some relaxer for that.”
“Insultin’ a Scootsman's beard isn’t a good idea, lassy!” Angus reared his feared weapon and charged the Venomous Villainess before him.
She stepped out of the way and snatched the coupons from his free hand as he ran past her wildly swinging his Enemy-B-Crushed at air.
“Hey! Thems is mine!”
She rest her lithe hand on an exquisite hip and tilted her head to one side. “Oh really, darling? Then why are they in my hand, hmmm?”
“Ye be askin’ for it, lassy!” Angus shook his oversized club threateningly.
She adopted a look of mock fear. “Oh, vhatever shall I do? Out of my way little man, I have bigger fugu to fry.”
He sputtered angrily.
“And that club. Ever hear of Freud? I'm not certain which inadequacy you're over compensating for, but you should really look into it.”
The Surly Scot's face reddened as his blood boiled. The veins on his forehead and neck became plainly visible. He bit his bottom lip. His entire body shook with the intensity of a paint mixer. A battlecry erupted from his tiny lungs and thundered across the park, “DWARRRRF-A-PULLLLLT!”
Fierce fire flared from Iron: Battle Suit's Bagpipe Thrusters. They sounded like a gaggle of geese being put through slow, painful deaths that probably involved a rusty, half-broken meat grinder.
“YYYYYYYYEARGHABLBLBLBLBLE!” the Scotsman roared as he flew past the Venomous Villainess at over seven hundred miles an hour.
She watched Angus shrink into the distance, his limbs flailing madly, battlecries and curses still booming above the sounds of tormented Bagpipe geese. His speck slammed against a building, clung to the wall for a few seconds, and plummeted to the unforgiving ground.
She rubbed her chin, “Flashy, but unimpressive.” She held the coupons and kissed them gently. “Let'z see how valuable you truly are.”
She disappeared as sneakily as she had arrived.
And just in time too, as Nuklear Man and Atomik Lad touched down seconds later.
“All right, first we—Atomik Lad! My you've grown!”
He blinked with surprise. “What are you—Nuke, step out of your crater.”
The Hero looked around himself. “Ah yes, well uh...lookforthecoupons.”
“Sure, Nuke.”
Nuklear Man floated out of his little hole and strode majestically into the park search of his coveted coupons.
Atomik Lad strolled around looking for those oh so sought after pieces of paper. He sat in the shade of a large tree for a moment. He watched Nuklear Man pose for a mostly uninterested elderly couple as he passed by them. The sidekick stood again and dusted his bottom when he felt something that didn't belong there: a piece of paper!
“Nuke!”
“Eh?” The Hero turned his head and stumbled out of his pose, though the elderly couple hadn't noticed him being in the pose anyway so it was a moot point.
The sidekick, holding the note at arms length, trotted to Nuklear Man. “I found something.”
The Hero smiled proudly. “Good work!” He took the paper and unfolded it clumsily. “This must be the villain's typical note revealing his location and intents in a vague and cryptic manner and/or riddle. They're all the rage nowadays. I'm so excited!” His eagerness grew and his sky blue eyes widened as he read the note. “Ooooh!”
“’Oooh’ what?”
“This one is so vague and cryptic that it's in code.”
“Let me see what I can do.” Atomik Lad grabbed the bottom and top of the note, took it form his mighty mentor, and turned it right side up. “How's that?”
Nuklear Man beamed. “Good! You've just saved us hours of dudective work.”
“Dudective?” Atomik Lad shook his head. “Anytime, Nuke.”
“Now to read it.” He cleared his thick throat. “’I know all too well of your many heroic explosions, so I—’”
“Wait!”
“What?”
“Explosions?”
“Yes, right here...‘heroic explosions’.”
“Gimme that!” Atomik Lad snatched the note.
Nuklear Man gave him a stern look. “You ought to be more careful with the evidence. And, I might add, more respective-able to your Hero.”
“’Exploits!’” Atomik Lad slapped the note. “’Heroic exploits.’ Can’t you read?”
Nuklear Man snatched the note back. “No one asked you, hmmphf! Now then, where was I?”
Atomik Lad crossed his arms over his chest and muttered. “I think you were about to explode heroically.”
Ignoring the comment, Nuklear Man went on. “Ah yes, ‘...too well of your many heroic explcough!...ahem, so I shan't bore you with the typi
cal note revealing my intentions and location in a vague and cryptic manner and/or riddle since you'd solve it within moments.’”
“Don't hold your breath.” Atomik Lad said.
“‘I will be blunt. If you ever wish to see your beloved coupons again, then come to my lair, the abandoned Polluto Chemical Factory just outside of town. I am awaiting your imminent arrival. Evily Yours, Dr. Veronica Menace.’”
The Hero of heroes paused for a moment. “Shucks!” He spat in frustration as he clenched the fist not holding the taunting note; a liquid-like sphere of golden energy flared around it for a moment. “This is gonna be tougher than I thought.”
“Shucks? What are you talking about? Let's go!” The impetuous sidekick started to fly, but found that a powerful grip held him firmly to the surface by his collar. Atomik Lad struggled against Nuklear Man's unbreakable grasp but quickly gave up. “And I thought Nuke’s Rule #1 was Don't wrinkle the outfit.”
Releasing his grasp of the sidekick and seeming to peer through the note, Nuklear Man spoke. “This note is so vague and cryptic by virtue of how straightforward it is that we can't hope to crack it without help! We'll need to regroup at the Silo of Solitude so we can run this through the supercomputer! This Dr. Menace could be anywhere!”
“Nuke. What are you talking about? It’s Dr. Menace. She’s been our arch nemesis for like ten years. She told us she's staying at the old Polluto Chemical Factory. Hell, that’s where she always is.”
“That's what she wants you to think!” He leaned forward, shoving his finger into Atomik Lad's face.
“That's because it’s true.” Atomik Lad said tiredly.
“That may be, but that doesn't account for the fact that....” Nuklear Man's gaze, attention, and Big Wheel of thought trailed off.
“Hey! Big Guy.” The sidekick elbowed the Golden Guardian to rouse him.
“Who-What-Where?!” The Hero looked to and fro with intimidating poses to keep evil stuff at bay.
“It's alright, Bright Eyes, we were just about to head to the Polluto Chemical Factory.”
Nuklear Age Page 2