The Eagle has
Landed
Stephen Colbert was sitting at his desk, shuffling
papers. He wasn't reading them; they were blank. He just liked
showing those eco-liberals that he could waste paper and be sexy at
the same time. Of course, he could trudge through waist-high slime
and be sexy at the same time. He was Stephen Colbert.
"Now, Patriotism," Colbert said aloud to the empty studio, practicing. "That's sexy." He cleared his throat, lowering his voice a little and trying it again. "Now Patriotism. That's sexy. Now Patr--"
"Did I hear my name?" asked James Potter, walking out of the shadows from the back of the empty audience. He walked swaggeringly down the steps toward the stage, winking as he approached Stephen.
"What are you doing in here?" Stephen asked, flustered by the sudden appearance. He wanted to put up a strong show of calling security, but he found himself oddly drawn to the man who was trespassing in his studio. At least the intruder had the courtesy to be attractive.
"Can I borrow your glasses?" James Potter asked, ignoring the pundit's question. He was very close to the other man now. "I'm supposed to wear them. Part of the charm, you see," James Potter said, running his hand through his hair and ruffling it for effect.
"Well if you're looking for charm, you've come to the right pair of glasses." Stephen said, taking off the glasses and polishing them on his sleeve before handing them over to the attractive interloper. "All of my clothing and accessories are hand-infused with charm by a team of small Chinese children. They're the same kids who make the American flags, so you know they're patriotic."
"I'm James Potter," he said, putting on the glasses and looking even more Potter-ish to prove his identity.
"Ah!" Stephen Colbert said, suddenly recognizing the father of the famous wizard. He tried to hold in his squeal of delight. Then suddenly, Stephen noticed something else. "Hey, aren't you British?" He scoffed. "So you're British, you're wearing hair product, and all you're wearing from the waist down is a strategically-wrapped bright pink feather boa.. Could you get any gayer?"
James Potter grinned, pausing for a moment to pluck a stray feather from an uncomfortable place. "Well, Stephen, I can't tell you that," James said, smirking. "I could show you, though."
Stephen licked his lips. Normally, he frowned upon homosexuality. In theory, at least. But faced with someone as handsome as this magnificent stag, theory went out the window. "I'd like to Better Know Your District."
Just as James was unwrapping his boa, a newcomer walked--nay, limped--into the studio. Stephen Colbert felt his nether regions defy physics by becoming even more aroused. "Doctor House!" he shrieked. He felt like a kid in an eye-candy store. Well, hopefully they wouldn't let children in the sorts of stores Stephen was thinking of.
House, intrigued by the goings-on, made his way down the stairs toward the stage. "Looks like you've got a hell of a show tonight," he commented.
"Hey, House! I need your help! I'm having homosexual fantasies!" Stephen cried. His own honorary doctorate of fine arts couldn't help him now.
House rolled his eyes. "I'm a doctor. I only deal with real medical diagnoses and make them much more sexy and interesting than they actually are."
Stephen grinned, holding back the urge to fan himself. "House, I don't want you to cure them. I want you to fulfill them."
"Oh," House said, throwing away his cane. It tended to get in the way during sex. "In that case, you'd better let me examine the symptoms. Pants off." Ah, how many patients had he said that to over the years? This time he really meant it, though.
As Stephen fumbled to unbutton his pants, giddy at the idea of being in the same room as James Potter and Greg House, MD, a third man walked in. Stephen was absolutely sure that he was going to pass out.
"I came looking for my shield," said Captain America, notably shieldless.
Stephen spoke up, though his voice sounded high and squeaky. "I thought you were dead!" he cried, tears starting to well up in his eyes. "I'm so glad you're alive!" He ran over to Captain America and wrapped him in a bear-hug. He didn't even care that he was breaking his own boycott of every word with 'bear' in it. "I've missed you so much!"
Captain America raised an eyebrow, looking down at the strange man who was hugging him. Well, when you were a superhero, especially one that was the personification of America, you could never really be a stranger to anyone. He patted Stephen on the back, though he could tell from the bulge pressing into him that it wasn't his back Stephen wanted petted. "Is that a penis in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?" Captain America asked, having never really gotten the hang of innuendo.
Stephen tried to answer, but couldn't do more than giggle. Finally, he let his idol go and pointed at the shield on the wall.
Captain America retrieved it and turned back to thank Stephen for taking good care of it. "Well, I suppose I should be going.." He was intrigued by what was going on, but he really shouldn't take part in it. He was Captain America, after all. He had standards to uphold.
"I have standards to uphold, too!" Stephen shouted, having suddenly developed the power to read minds. It was what happened when someone had such a high level of truthiness. "You're on Notice, Captain America. My Love Notice."
"Well, when you put it that way," Captain America said, throwing away his shield and inadvertently cutting House's cane in half and lodging the shield in the wall. Oh well, he'd take care of that later. Now he had something more important to take care of.
Captain America started unzipping the hidden zipper that all heroes secretly had on their suits. He placed a hand on Stephen's head and gently pushed him suggestively downward. "Suck my America-flavored--"
"And that's the word!"