I Mustache You A Question
...But I'll Shave It For Later.
In which Henry Cavill's facial hair debacle actually happens to the Man of Steel, and Superman is mercilessly teased.
In hindsight, Clark should have realized something was up. But really, how likely was it that a supervillain would create a ray gun capable of affecting him, and use it to give him a god-awful mustache?
...yeah, even money.
He'd wrapped up the interview and gone back to the Watchtower, taken three steps off the teleport pads, and noticed his reflection. With an undignified yelp that would later be denied and a whoosh of displaced air, a burning hair smell began to emit from the nearest bathroom with a mirror.
Superman flew to the Monitor Womb. "Batman, I need you to interpose a news feed."
Bruce swiveled his chair, and Clark was suddenly reminded of the cat-stroking, monocle-wearing villain archetype. "It's just a mustache, Clark." His mouth twitched to a smirk briefly.
"Oh, ha ha. You were just talking about public image." Bruce's lip twitched again. "I was, yes."
Clark threw up his hands. "Unbelievable."
Bruce smirked, slightly longer this time. "Consider it handled."
Superman breathed a sigh of relief. "I knew I could count on you, Bruce."
"This is what I get for counting on Bruce." Clark moaned, head in his hands.
On the tv screen in front of him, the interview played, his face photoshopped so badly it had to be intentional. A second video from a cell phone camera was the top trending on most forms of social media, moustache and all.
Clark dialed his phone. Without preamble, he said, "I hate you."
Bruce's smirk was all but audible. "I have no clue what you're talking about."
Clark huffed. "Tell me, did you deliberately do that bad a job yourself, or did you give the job to your pet rock?"
A quiet sound that was almost a snort of amusement sounded across the phone line. "A pet rock? Of course not. My son has a dog."
At the dial tone, Clark dropped his head into his hands again.
From the moment Clark set foot onto the Watchtower, he knew he was in for it. Wally zipped up next to him, wearing a fake moustache over his cowl. "Hey, Supes, what's up? I mustache you a question…"
Clark plastered a smile on his face. "Ha… good one. Say, have you seen Diana?"
Wally shrugged. "Training room, I think."
Clark nodded, and flew off before he could say something he'd regret.
He entered the room and spotted Diana right away. "Up for a spar?" He called.
Diana turned to him, revealing another stick-on mustache. "Always, Kal." She said pleasantly.
He made sure to knock the mustache off, and by the end of the sparring it was little more than a stain on the floor.
Superman swung by the cafeteria. Hal, Kyle, Guy and John were all there, and the table between them seemed to have become a mountainous green battleground for four tiny green armies. Guy was arguing with Hal about whether or not his catapults should be allowed to launch explosives, but Kyle nudged them and pointed to Superman. Clark got a sinking feeling as they paused their battle game, and made their way over to where he was at the food line.
"So, we were thinking we should do something to honor our fallen mustache comrades, and-" Guy broke off, guffawing. Hal stepped in. "And we were *snrk* thinking, maybe a mustache themed fireworks show in Metropolis?"
Kyle cut in, barely holding it together. "Hal was thinking I could do the cathedral I did for his funeral. I like the idea, but- heh- do you think it should just have mustache symbols, or should it be covered in hair?" He barely finished the sentence before bursting into laughter, and a small construct somewhere between a long-haired terrier and a steepled building set the three of them off all over again.
John chuckled from the back of the group. "Sorry, man. It is pretty funny."
Clark left the cafeteria, tray of food still uneaten.
The Rec Room was crowded, and the heroes were huddled around something attentively. Clark floated closer slowly, in an effort to go unnoticed.
"Okay, we got one thick 'n shaggy 'stache for Fire, one curlicue 'stache for Ice, and Wonder Woman's replacing her old one- lost in the line of duty, the tragedy- with a 'stache-beard combo, the daredevil!"
Clark finally got a good look. Blue Beetle was standing next to Booster Gold, the latter wearing a ridiculous trench coat opened to reveal hundreds of stick-on mustaches. Both of them were wearing five mustaches apiece on their faces alone.
Blue Beetle looked up, and the color drained from his face. "Booster, time to go." Booster laughed, a poorly-attached mustache falling from the bridge of his nose at the motion. "Come on, Ted!" He followed his friend's gaze up, only to meet Superman's eyes just as they flashed a warning in red.
"Umm, all sales are final no refunds that's all folks come on skeets RUN!"
Blue Beetle and Booster booked it, while Skeets bobbed in the air, a handlebar stuck on his display. "Sorry about this, sir." With a small pop, confetti shot out, and then Skeets zipped away.
Clark looked down. Each piece of confetti was in the shape of a mustache. A faint growl echoed in his throat.
Wonder Woman stepped forward, her fake beard almost down to her knees. "Clark, do you need a napkin?"
Clark blinked, then his eyes widened and papers blew about the rec room as he flew away at high speed.
From the bathroom, he could still hear Wonder Woman say "You've got something on your face…"
He crushed the mustache of green light on his face, as the rec room down the hall exploded in laughter. "Totally got it on camera!" Green Arrow boasted.
Clark flew to the cafeteria, only to find the Lanterns already gone. Of course- the meeting was about to start.
He arrived at the meeting room, and pulled up short. "Et tu, J'onn?" He said despairingly, as the Martian's green mustache shifted style to be even more ridiculous.
J'onn nodded. "It seemed like the thing to do. The Lantern you're looking for is John Stewart."
Clark's eyes widened, and he clenched his teeth. "That little no-good, straight faced…" Across the room, John was hurriedly standing up, the other three Lanterns wishing him luck as Clark seethed.
And then the lights dimmed, signaling that everyone was present and the meeting was to begin. Clark turned, looking to the one person he hadn't seen yet.
The Batman, terror of criminals everywhere, sat in his chair, completely straight-faced. On top of his cowl was a stick on mustache. Covering every inch of his suit was a garish mustache pattern. And as he talked, he flipped what could only be called a Mustachearang in his hand.
Clark had what he maintained was a very reasonable response. He stood up, calmly walked down the table to Batman, took the mustache from his face and the mustachearang from his hand, and set them on the table. As Batman continued to talk as if nothing was happening, the entire table stared as Superman went around, removing mustaches. He paused at Green Arrow, settling for only taking the fake one.
At Booster and Beetle, he ripped the mustaches off hard enough for the adhesive to take a layer of skin, and also took the trench coat. He went the rest of the way back around, stood by the pile of mustache-related objects for a moment, and then set them aflame with his eyes. He darted into the hallway, and a moment later, the sprinklers came on, dousing everyone in the room with rancid-smelling fire suppressant foam. He returned, gathered the smoldering remains of the mustaches, and left. A moment later, Superman was on the other side of the room's window into space. He threw the offending mass of fibers and plastic into the sun, dusted his hands, came back inside, and sat down.
Throughout it all, Batman continued to discuss League finances, never so much as looking at Clark.
The Internet loved the photo of Batman's mustache theme, though they assumed it was a clever photoshop.
On the other hand, the rabbit ear headband Batman was seen in a week later made the cover of Time Magazine.