"Sweet Christmas Doom"
Written by D. Golightly
"You can't seriously expect us to believe that."
Luke Cage, the original hero for hire, returned the look of disbelief to the teenager sitting only a few feet away from him. "You can believe whatever you want, shorty," he replied. "Whether you buy it or not doesn't make it any less true."
"Yeah, just shut your mouth, Carlos," another teenage boy chimed in. "Cage here is all right, you know? He's just telling us what we wanted to know."
Several other teenage boys and girls around the gymnasium murmured similar sentiments aimed at Carlos. There had to be at least twenty of them cramped into the work out room, but it was much better than the alternative. The cold streets of Chicago only got colder during the winter, as any of the kids could tell you. Within the walls of their local YMCA, however, there was more than just a warm, dry place to hang out. That was why Luke had been so adamant about putting in an appearance there every so often.
"You asked and I answered," Luke commented casually as he shrugged off his thick winter coat.
"So you're telling me that you got your catch phrase by saving Christmas from Dr. Doom?" Carlos reiterated.
"S'what I said, ain't it?"
"This I have to hear," the young man said as he flipped a nearby chair around to sit on backwards.
Several other kids came over in anticipation of the story they all obviously wanted to hear. Cage, a small smile forming on his face, was happy to oblige them. After all, he had been like them when he was there age. Eager to find out about things like this, spending all his afternoons at his own Y back in New York, finding any old excuse to keep off the streets.
"I'm not big on storytelling," Luke defended, "but if you really want to know I'll tell you what I remember…"
Luke Cage wrapped his arms around his own torso in an effort to keep the biting frost away. Even with super strength and diamond hard skin the cold could still get to him. In fact, if he wasn't getting paid so well for such a small job he probably would have never accepted, opting to stay in his apartment and watch three or four showings of "It's a Wonderful Life."
"Can I get you some hot chocolate, Mr. Cage?" the man who had hired him asked politely.
"No thanks, Mr. Conroy," Cage answered. "I'd rather not be distracted from my post. I'll be just fine, thanks."
Mr. Conroy shook his head in understanding and then wobbled off, the various layers of clothing under his coat threatening to tip him off balance. Cage turned back to face the giant Christmas tree in the center of Times Square, which he was supposed to protect. He hadn't believed it when he first got the job offer but it had turned out to be true. Mr. Conroy, is all his stumpiness, was in charge of the tree lighting ceremony this year and had hired Cage to guard the large holiday symbol. Apparently the city had received several threats and they were taking it seriously by hiring their very own superhero. The job was laughable but the pay was great, especially for just having to basically stand still all evening while they flipped the switch to light the thing.
A cool breeze swept in from the North side, washing over the thousands of people that had gathered inside the famous Times Square to watch the lighting of the tree. Cage loved the city and the people in it, no matter what kind of wrap the rest of the country gave them. He glanced at his watch and saw it was almost time for what they had all been waiting for.
"Merry Christmas!" a barely legal, scantily clad Mrs. Claus screamed into the microphone at the podium. The audience responded back with the same phrase, the males more enthusiastically than the females. If the snow didn't tell them how cold it was Mrs. Claus' chest did.
"It's time for what you've all been waiting for!" she continued. The crowd applauded and hollered their approval. "Without further ado, I light this tree--OH MY GOD!"
What sounded to Cage like a thunderclap exploded from the sky, shaking the general area and making the giant Christmas tree tilt slightly askew. He looked up to try and see exactly what was happening, but before he knew it the top of the forty-foot tree burst into flames, eliciting cries of terror from the gathered crowd.
"PEOPLE OF NEW YORK!" a sinister voice said over a loudspeaker. "I REGRET TO INFORM YOU THAT CHRISTMAS HAS BEEN CANCELLED! SO SAYS DOOM!"
Then, lowering from the clouds like a majestic harbinger, a small gray craft came into Cage's view with a sole occupant. It was one of the last people Cage had excepted to see and all of a sudden his simply security guard job had become something a whole lot more.
Dr. Doom's green hood flapped in the wind but refused to cover his horrifying metal faceplate. His palms were open and his arms spread out, as if he saw himself as something of a king to the people below.
The young Mrs. Claus screamed into the microphone and continued to do so until Mr. Conroy pulled her away. The rest of the people began to scatter as Doom continued to lower himself, stopping just a few feet above the ground, laughing maniacally all the way. Cage eyed up the Latverian tyrant and decided if he was going to earn his pay he had to move now.
Cracking his knuckles, Luke Cage slipped up onto the raised platform that the podium was on and leapt into the air, his great strength boosting him high and far. He expected to crash into Dr. Doom from behind, tackling him off his gray craft and wrestling him to the ground. Instead he found a force field blocking his aerial path as he smashed against it was a large thud. He bounced off and fell to the ground, unhurt but now locked in Doom's sights.
"Ah, the mercenary who pretends to be a hero!" Doom exclaimed. "How nice of you to drop in. Doom is pleased!"
Cage barely rolled out of the way of a blast from one of Dr. Doom's gauntlets. The yellow energy sizzled through the air, burning away a portion of the asphalt and Cage was relieved it hadn't been him instead. He wasn't in any hurry to test his invulnerability against one of the deadliest villains on the planet. Doom had taken down the Fantastic Four more times than Cage could remember.
Snapping back to attention, the Hero for Hire ducked under another searing blast and dove beneath Doom's strange craft. Since Doom's feet were actually touching the airship's floor the force field had to end somewhere. If he couldn't take him down from behind he would get at him from his underbelly.
"What are you…stop!" Doom ordered as Cage tore into the metal of the craft.
The floor buckled and bent from Cage's powerful fists, rocking it back and forth in the air. Within seconds he had ripped open a sizable hole and reached up to grab the tyrant's armor covered foot. Cage pulled once he had a firm grasp and yanked Doom out of his craft from underneath, tossing him across the street and into a telephone poll. Doom cracked the poll in half when he hit, but thankfully the swarm of people in the area had already dispersed.
"How dare you lay a hand on Doom!"
"Whatever, braceface," Luke retorted. "Be glad I'm filled with holiday joy or else I'd rip you out of that tin suit. Give it up!"
"Doom surrenders to no man! I shall have sweet victory!"
Cage expected his enemy would say something along those lines. Men like Dr. Doom never made things this easy. The fight would continue until one of them dropped and Cage was determined to make sure Doom was the one who did the dropping. Plunging his fingers back into the remnants of Doom's gray metal craft, Cage hoisted the vehicle into the air with minimal effort, blocking yet another energy bolt. Again and again the yellow energy was deflected as Cage slowly stepped closer using the craft as a shield.
"Fall! Fall and kneel before Doom!"
"Anyone ever tell you how annoying it is when you refer to yourself as Doom all the time?" Cage quipped. "You don't hear me saying stuff like 'Give up to Power Man,' do you?"
Dr. Doom ignored the hero's heckling, choosing instead to continue his useless barrage. The energy blasts were becoming more and more intense as Cage stepped closer, the pressure from each hit building. Finally, Cage had enough.
"I don't know what's gotten into your head," he said, "but Christmas ain't cancelled!"
Heaving the nearly shattered, but still bulky, craft over his head Cage spun and launched the wreckage straight at Doom. It crashed into the Latverian with a loud metallic thunk, casting him back into the stub of the telephone poll he originally landed against. Sparks flew as metal scraped against metal, rendering the villain motionless underneath the weight of the decimated craft.
"That was…surprisingly easy," Cage remarked.
Cage kicked the limp hand of the fallen Doom but it stayed completely still. Sliding the wrecked craft off of his adversary, Cage was shocked but not completely surprised by what he saw.
"Perfect," Cage mumbled. "A Doombot."
The face mask had cracked and slid down the front of the automaton, revealing not flesh and bone but wires and circuitry. He could hear gear whirling inside of the advanced robot as it suddenly convulsed with life in a last ditch, and futile, effort to free itself.
"Doom! zzzz …victor ssst Sweet victory! Damn you, Luke Ca zzzz Damn you! kzzzt Sweet Christmas!" the robot sputtered.
"Sweet Christmas?" the hero chuckled. "Are you cussing me out with 'Sweet Christmas?' Big Daddy Doom is going to have to start programming these things better."
"Oh, come on!" Carlos complained. "Seriously? That's how it went down?"
"That's what I'm saying," Luke answered the youth.
"You really think we're going to believe that? I mean, why would Dr. Doom send a robot to destroy a giant Christmas tree anyway? What the hell would the point of that be?"
"Hey," Luke replied as he stood up, "this was way back when evil dictators were doing some messed up stuff, back before you were born. Who knows what goes through those whacko's heads? Anyway, that's when I started saying the catch phrase and saved Christmas."
A couple of the younger kids beamed with pride at their role model, happy with his story whether it was true or not. During the holiday season, when families gathered to celebrate one thing or the other, these kids were the ones who felt left out. Gathering at the Y helped them forget some of the troubles the street handed them and Luke's story provided a small means of escapism. He knew from visiting these kids and shooting hoops with most of them that they had it rough. Especially Carlos.
So what if he had changed a few elements of the story? The point was to get their minds off of their problems, and judging from most of their faces, it had worked.
"So that's the story of how Power Man saved Christmas, huh?" Carlos asked.
"Yeah, but lay off that Power Man stuff. I haven't called myself that in years. Unless retro is hip again?"
Some of the kids giggled at Luke's comment. It warmed him slightly to know that his presence helped them, if only just a little.
"So," Carlos continued. "We were going to put together a game real quick…wanna jump in?"
"You know I'm always down," Luke replied, much to the delight of the rest of the teenagers. "Lead the way, shorty."
"Cool. Just one thing, though."
"What's that?"
"After we beat you on the court you owe us another story."
DOOM COMANDS YOU TO HAVE A SWEET CHRISTMAS!