Several months, two weeks, three days, forty minutes and approximately
seventeen seconds ago....
"What are we looking for again?"
The Teen of Tomorrow clasped his forehead, groaning in frustration. He was Superboy, the most powerful member of Young Justice, heir to the `S' and all that rot. No more than a week ago he (and the others) helped save the Pope. He couldn't believe what he had been reduced to. And having a certain wild-haired speedster with the attention span of mayo didn't help the situation much.
"For the twenty-second time..."
"Twenty-third time."
"...the girls sent us here to get them some...er...feminine protection."
"You mean this?" As fast as a finger snap, Bart was walking along side Superboy, carrying an armful of Mace.
"No, not that kind of protection," Superboy said. "They need some, uh, feminine napkins."
"These?" He said, holding up a packet of napkins.
"No no no." He gently massaged his temples with his fingers. "They need padding."
"Like this?" He was now holding football pads. SB rolled his eyes into the back of his head.
"No, not THAT kind of padding. "Pads!"" He made quotation marks in the air with his fingers.
"Note pads?" he asked, holding a stack of sticky notes. "No, Bart," he huffed. "Pads for their periods." He continued walking through the store, as far away from other people as possible, desperately searching for a ball bat to beat his teammate with.
Bart scratched his head. "Periods?" He looked down at the sticky notes he was holding, trying to figure out why they would need pads for periods. "Why would they need pads for periods? Isn't that what typewriters are for?"
(Without much effort, the Teen of Tomorrow came up with at least thirty different ways to knock his companion unconscious with his tactile telekinesis without compromising his identity.)
"No Bart," he sighed, opting to take the path most difficult (although the idea of dropping an entire display of Spam on his head with a TTK `earthquake' didn't seem like such a bad idea). "They don't need to WRITE periods. They're ON their periods!"
"Ohhhhhh," Bart said, trying to sound like he knew what he was talking about. In his mind he imagined Cassie and Cissie chasing after him on giant periods. Superboy noticed the glazed look in his eye; he had no CLUE what he was talking about. Typical.
"Look, Bart," he said, putting his arm around his shoulder. "You remember how cranky Cass and Ciss were earlier?"
"Kinda, yeah."
"Remember how Cass told you that if you played your Bleamblast one more time she'd shove the controller down your throat then hog tie you with the power cord?"
"Yeah!" he said with a gaping smile. "You mean she was serious?" The smile replaced by a look of confusion.
"*sigh* No, I don't think she was serious. She's just cranky because she's on her period." Another look of confusion. "She's menstruating."
"Men-straight-ing?" he repeated, eye cocked. He pondered to himself, and for a second SB thought he might get it.
"But we don't know anyone like that, do we?" Nope. Not even close.
"What? What do you mean by....oh!" Superboy smacked himself on the forehead. (He could almost hear the lawsuits mounting.) "You mean to tell me Max never talked to you about any of this?" He glanced back at the young speedster, who was occupying himself with a pair of paddle-balls. "No, of course not," he muttered under his breath. "Why would he? It'd be like explaining quantum physics to a chimp."
"Hmm?" Bart looked up. "What about chips?" "Never mind," he said. `Some days I just wish I'd get stuck in Hypertime and be replaced by another clone,' he thought to himself. "Let's just keep shopping."
*************
Nestled safely in a large mountain range (or, more appropriately, WITHIN a mountain) was the headquarters of the teen super team (boy, try saying THAT ten times fast) known as the Junior Justice League (although they preferred to be known as Young Justice).
Occupied on the computer, updating files and purposefully secluded from the remains of the remains of the group, was the Urban Legend known as Robin. He had been assigned with several cases by Batman, which he took with great reluctance at the time. When Batman approached him with these cases he had intended on some quality bonding with his teammates, allow them to get to know him a little better (for some reason he felt that they didn't trust him, though he was probably just being paranoid). He objected initially. Walking into the cave just in time to catch Superboy dodging a puke arrow from Arrowette, however, made him appreciate his workload even more.
He was typing up a report on what appeared to be several tectonic disturbances beneath Gotham City (which was probably a fluke), he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end, and felt a slight wisp of wind float in.
"Hey Secret," he said, not looking back.
"How did you know I was here?" She inquired, floating next to the leader.
"Practice," he responded. "What's up?"
"Nothing," she sighed. "Bored." She propped her knee up to her chest as she took a seat next to Robin. They were silent for a few seconds, save for the typing of the keyboards.
"Avoiding Wonder Girl and Arrowette too?" he asked.
"Yep," she replied.
"Smart girl."
"We heard that!" a shrill voice cracked from behind like fingernails against a chalkboard. The pair swung around.....
**************
"This'll be brilliant," a menacing voice whispered. There was a slight rustle, as two dark and domineering figures stepped out of the bushes. One a robed lizard creature, the other seemed to be a horrible mix between a man and a Terrier. Hair seemed to sprout from areas where none should be, and was wearing so much black leather one would think it was going out of style. The large pair slunk around the entrance to the cave, Cheshire- grins on their faces and sinister intents in their souls.
"Yessss," the other hissed. "What better way to make namesssss for oursssselvesss than by dessstroying Young Jusssstice."
"Yes. And who would ever expect an attack like this in broad daylight?"
*wham!*
The pair were sent crashing into the rock side by a sudden blast of cold mountain air.
"Anyone who just so happens to be flying overhead," a mechanical voice spoke from behind. The two turned to see the master of the maelstrom himself, the Red Tornado. He did not seem the least bit impressed, nor intimidated, by the two, who loomed over him. Traya sat on his shoulder, looking on with child-like curiosity at the pair, unafraid of any threat they might pose.
"Hey, ain't he the Red Whirlwind?" the hairy one asked his lizard-like companion.
"Nah, I think he'sssss the Crimson Breezzzzze," he responded.
Red Tornado sighed, shaking his head. "This never happened when I was with the Justice League," he moaned. "It's Red Tornado, though I'm sure for individuals such as yourselves the difference is hardly noticeable."
"What'd he ssssssay?"
"I think he's dissin' on us, man."
"Daddy," Traya said, hugging her dolly. "Who are they?"
"They're called `delinquents', child," he said softly. "The byproducts of a time when children such as yourselves were deprived of Toaster Pops and couldn't exorcize their more violent inhibitions through video games."
"Ahhhh."
"Heh, laugh it up," the dog-like individual boasted. "But you can't hope to beat the combined might of Corporal Lizard and The Burden..."
"Corporal Lizard and The Burden?"
"Laugh now, artificial beasssst. I can sssssenssse your powerssssss, and I know you are incapable of dealing with ussssssss."
"Plus, with my heightened senses, I can smell that your most powerful members are gone, and....*sniff* *sniff sniff*." And odd scent caught his attention mid-sentence. As he fervently inhaled the air around him his skin seemed to melt of all color.
"What?" Corporal Lizard asked. "What isssss it?"
"I smell something. I can't quite put my finger on it, but it's....familiar. Kind of like my old girlfriend used to smell when...." He stopped short of completing his sentence, his eyes growing to the size of saucers. With all the urgency of a man who was looking down the barrel of a gun, he snagged Corporal Lizard by his arm and drug him as fast as he could move.
"What? What isssss it?" He inquired. "What'sssss wrong? I thought you ssssaid we could beat them. What was it that you sssssmelled that hasssss you ssssso ssssscared?"
"If you knew what I knew, you'd be scared too," he said, dragging his confused partner behind. "You'd be scared too."
"Daddy?" Traya asked. "What were they so scared of?"
"I'm not too sure," he said, gazing into the dark (and suddenly foreboding) opening of the cave. "But something tells me the girls aren't going to be in the mood to play today." And, taking his cue from the cowardly lion and the human hand-bag, he lifted off on a gust of wind and sailed away into the sky.
*****************
The pair of teens continued walking through the aisles of the supermarket, SB doing his best to look incognito, and Bart doing his best to stay out of trouble.
"Superb..."
"Calvin."
"Huh?"
"Calvin," Superboy said as he flipped through a magazine. "We're supposed to be incognito, remember. Secret identities only." He noted the teaming masses, all going about their daily shopping routines, all unaware that the young man in the tight jeans, leather coat and sunglasses was Superboy, and the junior-high school child in the cargo pants, cream-colored turtleneck and pullover seaweed green sweatshirt was Impulse.
"But you don't have a secret identity," Bart noted.
"I know, but until I can come up with a better one, I'm Calvin for today." He tossed the magazine in the cart.
"Okay...`Calvin'?"
"*sigh* Yes, Bart, what is it?
"If we're only supposed to buy....uh....padding, then why are we buying all this other stuff?" The young male motioned to the contents of their shopping cart. Inside, piled together, were items of every sort; a hot rod magazine, three cases of Mountain Fizz cola, twelve pounds of potatoes, what looked like a Swedish electricity_socket adapter, two Get Well Soon balloons (Superboy insisted that Cassie and Cissie would find them funny "eventually"), two disposable cameras, floor polish, and a kit on how to make Origami. "I mean, some of this stuff I've never even heard of before."
"I'm trying to be inconspicuous. We have to make it look like the pads aren't the only thing we have to buy."
"But they ARE the only thing we have to buy," he retorted.
"That's not the point." Great, there was that headache again. "The point is that we don't WANT it to look like those are the only things we need to get. We want it to look like we're just here to pick up a few items, at the pads are just on the list."
"I think that's stupid," he commented, filling the basket with as many Oreo's as he could in a half a second.
"This coming from the living argument why caffeine should be illegal," he sighed, head leaning in his hand. "You should be paying attention to some of this y'know. It might come in handy IF you ever have a girlfriend."
"Now why would I want a girlfriend when I have you?" He smiled the smile of a thousand adventurers, his arm around his buddy's waist, body flung out dramatically, a pair of boggle-eyed glasses flailing with each spasmodic motion of his head.
"I could tell you, but I think I'll let Max deal with that headache."
The young man reached into the back pocket of his jeans, the image of Rob having to put up with the ladies offering some comfort. He counted the money inside his wallet. At least when Rob `nominated' him to do the shopping, he made sure there was enough money for the extra expenses. But with Bart's prid-pro-quo impulsiveness with the chocolates, he had just enough money for what he was sent for, plus maybe two other items.
They proceeded past the bread and pastry aisle, past the canned food and spaghetti aisle, and (much to Bart's chagrin) past the candy aisle. There, stretching without end, adorned with colors of pink and purple and smelling of talcum powder, was the feminine products aisle...No Man's Land.
Superboy proceeded down that stretch with all the zeal of a man on his way to the gas chamber. Bart looked around, curious by all the odd items on the shelves. He'd been to the grocery store with Max a couple of times (up until he mistook the lobsters in the seafood display for an infestation of nuclear irradiated cockroaches, but the less said about that the better), but he had never seen this aisle before. He marveled at all the strangely named products; Maxi, Tampax, Cotex, and many others.
Superboy glanced around nervously. He felt like he was breaking some kind of guy law, and at any moment the Masculine Police would spring forth and send him away. Sudden footsteps sent his hairs on end, but he cooled a bit when he figured out that they were coming from the next aisle over.
`Now, which one did the girls say they wanted?' he thought to himself. `Did they want the super absorbent, or did they want the super duper absorbent?' He fumbled through the display, trying not to look TOO interested. He listened to the speakers playing above, and could have sworn they were playing a musak version of Metallica's "Ride the Lightning". `Blasphemy," he thought to himself. He also thought he heard something tapping, like plastic bags falling to the ground. The first one he paid no mind to, nor the second and third , but the feeling of something smacking the side of his head finally piqued his curiosity.
"Bart, what are you...GREAT CAESAR'S GHOST!!!" he exclaimed. Bart had torn open one of the packages of pads and had taken to tossing them in the air.
"I think these are defective," he said calmly.
"WHAT IN THE NAME OF ALL THAT IS GOOD AND HOLY DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?!?"
"Well, I read one of the packages that said it had wings, so I was just checking to see if they could fly." He tossed another one through the air, and frowned when it came crashing down. "I think we should sue for false advertising."
He was about to choke the life out of him, when he noticed that his yelling had caught the attention of several patrons, and a nun, who were all giving them what could only be described as `weird looks'.
"Hehe...don't mind him," he said, trying to play it off as something else other than what it looked. "He's....uh...from Uzbekistan. They don't have Maxi's where he comes from."
"But I'm not from....aiee!" "Come now, cousin," he said, grabbing Bart by the ear. "We mustn't keep Auntie waiting." He tossed a packet of pads into the cart and, with all the coyness of a man with `stupid' tattooed on his forehead, he and his wailing comrade made their way to the checkout counter.
*************
Walking into the cave, arms full of paper bags, Superboy could instantly see that they made it in just the nick of time. The command room was in shambles; Robin was hog tied and hanging by an arrow in the wall, files stuffed in his mouth; Secret was trapped inside a Mason jar with several dozen copies of the Bible stacked on top, and their table was shoved through the monitor (good thing Rob was talking about getting a new one anyway). And there, standing at the entrance, feet tapping and faces grim, were Arrowette and Wonder Girl themselves, in all their menstruating wrath.
"Took you long enough," Wonder Girl started into the pair.
"*Psh!* Knowing Superboy he was caught up saving some blonde from her clothes," snorted Arrowette, bow in hand. The two advanced, their male counterparts retreating slowly back towards the outdoors.
"Wouldn't be surprised," Wonder Girl replied. "If there's one thing you can guarantee from Superboy, it's...."
Thinking quickly, Superboy reached into a bag and pulled out salvation....mint chocolate chip ice cream. Somewhere in the distance could be heard a `Popey the Sailor Man' trumpet trio.
"Ooooo..." the pair pined. "Ice cream!" Superboy handed them the gallon of `female tranquilizer' and the bag containing the pads, and the two ladies rushed off as fast as they could with their bounty.
"Thanks guys," Robin gasped as Superboy released him from his bondage.
"Yeah," Secret commented similarly, Bart releasing her from the jar. "You two made it just in time. You should've seen what they were about to do with your Bleamblast, Bart."
"Next time, Rob, YOU get the blasted thing," Superboy huffed.
"Next time? Who said there's gonna BE a next time? I'm gonna talk to Nightwing about exchanging those two for Damage and Argent. Bart...uh...what are you doing?" The three glanced over at Bart, who was giving Robin an odd, cock-eyed look.
"Boy, those girls sure have their work cut out for them," he said, then took off with his bags of Oreo's.
"What was that all about?" Robin asked.
"You've got me," he said as he downed a bottle of Asprin. "But no more women on the team, boss. I do NOT want to deal with any more periods."
"Unless they're at the end of a sentence."
"Here here!" Secret chimed.
"So you guys want some coffee?"
"I'd kill for some."
"You guys think Cassie and Cissie'll share their ice cream?"
"Hey, you're the one with the death wish, Secret. YOU go try it."
The End
"What are we looking for again?"
The Teen of Tomorrow clasped his forehead, groaning in frustration. He was Superboy, the most powerful member of Young Justice, heir to the `S' and all that rot. No more than a week ago he (and the others) helped save the Pope. He couldn't believe what he had been reduced to. And having a certain wild-haired speedster with the attention span of mayo didn't help the situation much.
"For the twenty-second time..."
"Twenty-third time."
"...the girls sent us here to get them some...er...feminine protection."
"You mean this?" As fast as a finger snap, Bart was walking along side Superboy, carrying an armful of Mace.
"No, not that kind of protection," Superboy said. "They need some, uh, feminine napkins."
"These?" He said, holding up a packet of napkins.
"No no no." He gently massaged his temples with his fingers. "They need padding."
"Like this?" He was now holding football pads. SB rolled his eyes into the back of his head.
"No, not THAT kind of padding. "Pads!"" He made quotation marks in the air with his fingers.
"Note pads?" he asked, holding a stack of sticky notes. "No, Bart," he huffed. "Pads for their periods." He continued walking through the store, as far away from other people as possible, desperately searching for a ball bat to beat his teammate with.
Bart scratched his head. "Periods?" He looked down at the sticky notes he was holding, trying to figure out why they would need pads for periods. "Why would they need pads for periods? Isn't that what typewriters are for?"
(Without much effort, the Teen of Tomorrow came up with at least thirty different ways to knock his companion unconscious with his tactile telekinesis without compromising his identity.)
"No Bart," he sighed, opting to take the path most difficult (although the idea of dropping an entire display of Spam on his head with a TTK `earthquake' didn't seem like such a bad idea). "They don't need to WRITE periods. They're ON their periods!"
"Ohhhhhh," Bart said, trying to sound like he knew what he was talking about. In his mind he imagined Cassie and Cissie chasing after him on giant periods. Superboy noticed the glazed look in his eye; he had no CLUE what he was talking about. Typical.
"Look, Bart," he said, putting his arm around his shoulder. "You remember how cranky Cass and Ciss were earlier?"
"Kinda, yeah."
"Remember how Cass told you that if you played your Bleamblast one more time she'd shove the controller down your throat then hog tie you with the power cord?"
"Yeah!" he said with a gaping smile. "You mean she was serious?" The smile replaced by a look of confusion.
"*sigh* No, I don't think she was serious. She's just cranky because she's on her period." Another look of confusion. "She's menstruating."
"Men-straight-ing?" he repeated, eye cocked. He pondered to himself, and for a second SB thought he might get it.
"But we don't know anyone like that, do we?" Nope. Not even close.
"What? What do you mean by....oh!" Superboy smacked himself on the forehead. (He could almost hear the lawsuits mounting.) "You mean to tell me Max never talked to you about any of this?" He glanced back at the young speedster, who was occupying himself with a pair of paddle-balls. "No, of course not," he muttered under his breath. "Why would he? It'd be like explaining quantum physics to a chimp."
"Hmm?" Bart looked up. "What about chips?" "Never mind," he said. `Some days I just wish I'd get stuck in Hypertime and be replaced by another clone,' he thought to himself. "Let's just keep shopping."
*************
Nestled safely in a large mountain range (or, more appropriately, WITHIN a mountain) was the headquarters of the teen super team (boy, try saying THAT ten times fast) known as the Junior Justice League (although they preferred to be known as Young Justice).
Occupied on the computer, updating files and purposefully secluded from the remains of the remains of the group, was the Urban Legend known as Robin. He had been assigned with several cases by Batman, which he took with great reluctance at the time. When Batman approached him with these cases he had intended on some quality bonding with his teammates, allow them to get to know him a little better (for some reason he felt that they didn't trust him, though he was probably just being paranoid). He objected initially. Walking into the cave just in time to catch Superboy dodging a puke arrow from Arrowette, however, made him appreciate his workload even more.
He was typing up a report on what appeared to be several tectonic disturbances beneath Gotham City (which was probably a fluke), he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end, and felt a slight wisp of wind float in.
"Hey Secret," he said, not looking back.
"How did you know I was here?" She inquired, floating next to the leader.
"Practice," he responded. "What's up?"
"Nothing," she sighed. "Bored." She propped her knee up to her chest as she took a seat next to Robin. They were silent for a few seconds, save for the typing of the keyboards.
"Avoiding Wonder Girl and Arrowette too?" he asked.
"Yep," she replied.
"Smart girl."
"We heard that!" a shrill voice cracked from behind like fingernails against a chalkboard. The pair swung around.....
**************
"This'll be brilliant," a menacing voice whispered. There was a slight rustle, as two dark and domineering figures stepped out of the bushes. One a robed lizard creature, the other seemed to be a horrible mix between a man and a Terrier. Hair seemed to sprout from areas where none should be, and was wearing so much black leather one would think it was going out of style. The large pair slunk around the entrance to the cave, Cheshire- grins on their faces and sinister intents in their souls.
"Yessss," the other hissed. "What better way to make namesssss for oursssselvesss than by dessstroying Young Jusssstice."
"Yes. And who would ever expect an attack like this in broad daylight?"
*wham!*
The pair were sent crashing into the rock side by a sudden blast of cold mountain air.
"Anyone who just so happens to be flying overhead," a mechanical voice spoke from behind. The two turned to see the master of the maelstrom himself, the Red Tornado. He did not seem the least bit impressed, nor intimidated, by the two, who loomed over him. Traya sat on his shoulder, looking on with child-like curiosity at the pair, unafraid of any threat they might pose.
"Hey, ain't he the Red Whirlwind?" the hairy one asked his lizard-like companion.
"Nah, I think he'sssss the Crimson Breezzzzze," he responded.
Red Tornado sighed, shaking his head. "This never happened when I was with the Justice League," he moaned. "It's Red Tornado, though I'm sure for individuals such as yourselves the difference is hardly noticeable."
"What'd he ssssssay?"
"I think he's dissin' on us, man."
"Daddy," Traya said, hugging her dolly. "Who are they?"
"They're called `delinquents', child," he said softly. "The byproducts of a time when children such as yourselves were deprived of Toaster Pops and couldn't exorcize their more violent inhibitions through video games."
"Ahhhh."
"Heh, laugh it up," the dog-like individual boasted. "But you can't hope to beat the combined might of Corporal Lizard and The Burden..."
"Corporal Lizard and The Burden?"
"Laugh now, artificial beasssst. I can sssssenssse your powerssssss, and I know you are incapable of dealing with ussssssss."
"Plus, with my heightened senses, I can smell that your most powerful members are gone, and....*sniff* *sniff sniff*." And odd scent caught his attention mid-sentence. As he fervently inhaled the air around him his skin seemed to melt of all color.
"What?" Corporal Lizard asked. "What isssss it?"
"I smell something. I can't quite put my finger on it, but it's....familiar. Kind of like my old girlfriend used to smell when...." He stopped short of completing his sentence, his eyes growing to the size of saucers. With all the urgency of a man who was looking down the barrel of a gun, he snagged Corporal Lizard by his arm and drug him as fast as he could move.
"What? What isssss it?" He inquired. "What'sssss wrong? I thought you ssssaid we could beat them. What was it that you sssssmelled that hasssss you ssssso ssssscared?"
"If you knew what I knew, you'd be scared too," he said, dragging his confused partner behind. "You'd be scared too."
"Daddy?" Traya asked. "What were they so scared of?"
"I'm not too sure," he said, gazing into the dark (and suddenly foreboding) opening of the cave. "But something tells me the girls aren't going to be in the mood to play today." And, taking his cue from the cowardly lion and the human hand-bag, he lifted off on a gust of wind and sailed away into the sky.
*****************
The pair of teens continued walking through the aisles of the supermarket, SB doing his best to look incognito, and Bart doing his best to stay out of trouble.
"Superb..."
"Calvin."
"Huh?"
"Calvin," Superboy said as he flipped through a magazine. "We're supposed to be incognito, remember. Secret identities only." He noted the teaming masses, all going about their daily shopping routines, all unaware that the young man in the tight jeans, leather coat and sunglasses was Superboy, and the junior-high school child in the cargo pants, cream-colored turtleneck and pullover seaweed green sweatshirt was Impulse.
"But you don't have a secret identity," Bart noted.
"I know, but until I can come up with a better one, I'm Calvin for today." He tossed the magazine in the cart.
"Okay...`Calvin'?"
"*sigh* Yes, Bart, what is it?
"If we're only supposed to buy....uh....padding, then why are we buying all this other stuff?" The young male motioned to the contents of their shopping cart. Inside, piled together, were items of every sort; a hot rod magazine, three cases of Mountain Fizz cola, twelve pounds of potatoes, what looked like a Swedish electricity_socket adapter, two Get Well Soon balloons (Superboy insisted that Cassie and Cissie would find them funny "eventually"), two disposable cameras, floor polish, and a kit on how to make Origami. "I mean, some of this stuff I've never even heard of before."
"I'm trying to be inconspicuous. We have to make it look like the pads aren't the only thing we have to buy."
"But they ARE the only thing we have to buy," he retorted.
"That's not the point." Great, there was that headache again. "The point is that we don't WANT it to look like those are the only things we need to get. We want it to look like we're just here to pick up a few items, at the pads are just on the list."
"I think that's stupid," he commented, filling the basket with as many Oreo's as he could in a half a second.
"This coming from the living argument why caffeine should be illegal," he sighed, head leaning in his hand. "You should be paying attention to some of this y'know. It might come in handy IF you ever have a girlfriend."
"Now why would I want a girlfriend when I have you?" He smiled the smile of a thousand adventurers, his arm around his buddy's waist, body flung out dramatically, a pair of boggle-eyed glasses flailing with each spasmodic motion of his head.
"I could tell you, but I think I'll let Max deal with that headache."
The young man reached into the back pocket of his jeans, the image of Rob having to put up with the ladies offering some comfort. He counted the money inside his wallet. At least when Rob `nominated' him to do the shopping, he made sure there was enough money for the extra expenses. But with Bart's prid-pro-quo impulsiveness with the chocolates, he had just enough money for what he was sent for, plus maybe two other items.
They proceeded past the bread and pastry aisle, past the canned food and spaghetti aisle, and (much to Bart's chagrin) past the candy aisle. There, stretching without end, adorned with colors of pink and purple and smelling of talcum powder, was the feminine products aisle...No Man's Land.
Superboy proceeded down that stretch with all the zeal of a man on his way to the gas chamber. Bart looked around, curious by all the odd items on the shelves. He'd been to the grocery store with Max a couple of times (up until he mistook the lobsters in the seafood display for an infestation of nuclear irradiated cockroaches, but the less said about that the better), but he had never seen this aisle before. He marveled at all the strangely named products; Maxi, Tampax, Cotex, and many others.
Superboy glanced around nervously. He felt like he was breaking some kind of guy law, and at any moment the Masculine Police would spring forth and send him away. Sudden footsteps sent his hairs on end, but he cooled a bit when he figured out that they were coming from the next aisle over.
`Now, which one did the girls say they wanted?' he thought to himself. `Did they want the super absorbent, or did they want the super duper absorbent?' He fumbled through the display, trying not to look TOO interested. He listened to the speakers playing above, and could have sworn they were playing a musak version of Metallica's "Ride the Lightning". `Blasphemy," he thought to himself. He also thought he heard something tapping, like plastic bags falling to the ground. The first one he paid no mind to, nor the second and third , but the feeling of something smacking the side of his head finally piqued his curiosity.
"Bart, what are you...GREAT CAESAR'S GHOST!!!" he exclaimed. Bart had torn open one of the packages of pads and had taken to tossing them in the air.
"I think these are defective," he said calmly.
"WHAT IN THE NAME OF ALL THAT IS GOOD AND HOLY DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?!?"
"Well, I read one of the packages that said it had wings, so I was just checking to see if they could fly." He tossed another one through the air, and frowned when it came crashing down. "I think we should sue for false advertising."
He was about to choke the life out of him, when he noticed that his yelling had caught the attention of several patrons, and a nun, who were all giving them what could only be described as `weird looks'.
"Hehe...don't mind him," he said, trying to play it off as something else other than what it looked. "He's....uh...from Uzbekistan. They don't have Maxi's where he comes from."
"But I'm not from....aiee!" "Come now, cousin," he said, grabbing Bart by the ear. "We mustn't keep Auntie waiting." He tossed a packet of pads into the cart and, with all the coyness of a man with `stupid' tattooed on his forehead, he and his wailing comrade made their way to the checkout counter.
*************
Walking into the cave, arms full of paper bags, Superboy could instantly see that they made it in just the nick of time. The command room was in shambles; Robin was hog tied and hanging by an arrow in the wall, files stuffed in his mouth; Secret was trapped inside a Mason jar with several dozen copies of the Bible stacked on top, and their table was shoved through the monitor (good thing Rob was talking about getting a new one anyway). And there, standing at the entrance, feet tapping and faces grim, were Arrowette and Wonder Girl themselves, in all their menstruating wrath.
"Took you long enough," Wonder Girl started into the pair.
"*Psh!* Knowing Superboy he was caught up saving some blonde from her clothes," snorted Arrowette, bow in hand. The two advanced, their male counterparts retreating slowly back towards the outdoors.
"Wouldn't be surprised," Wonder Girl replied. "If there's one thing you can guarantee from Superboy, it's...."
Thinking quickly, Superboy reached into a bag and pulled out salvation....mint chocolate chip ice cream. Somewhere in the distance could be heard a `Popey the Sailor Man' trumpet trio.
"Ooooo..." the pair pined. "Ice cream!" Superboy handed them the gallon of `female tranquilizer' and the bag containing the pads, and the two ladies rushed off as fast as they could with their bounty.
"Thanks guys," Robin gasped as Superboy released him from his bondage.
"Yeah," Secret commented similarly, Bart releasing her from the jar. "You two made it just in time. You should've seen what they were about to do with your Bleamblast, Bart."
"Next time, Rob, YOU get the blasted thing," Superboy huffed.
"Next time? Who said there's gonna BE a next time? I'm gonna talk to Nightwing about exchanging those two for Damage and Argent. Bart...uh...what are you doing?" The three glanced over at Bart, who was giving Robin an odd, cock-eyed look.
"Boy, those girls sure have their work cut out for them," he said, then took off with his bags of Oreo's.
"What was that all about?" Robin asked.
"You've got me," he said as he downed a bottle of Asprin. "But no more women on the team, boss. I do NOT want to deal with any more periods."
"Unless they're at the end of a sentence."
"Here here!" Secret chimed.
"So you guys want some coffee?"
"I'd kill for some."
"You guys think Cassie and Cissie'll share their ice cream?"
"Hey, you're the one with the death wish, Secret. YOU go try it."
The End