"And now I am the doctor who did it!" Destro looked proudly over his audience of world leaders and military men.

"The doctor who did what?" asked someone in the back.

"The doctor who invented these magical little nanomites," Destro replied. "Pay close attention, boys and girls, because I'm setting up the premise of the movie right now. These nanomites eat metal – for example, the Eiffel tower. They eat everything in their path until I turn them off with a kill switch, which could be turned off by a good guy to save Paris…this is all, of course, theoretical."

"Can they make bigger machines?" asked a scientist near the front.

"What were you thinking of?" Destro asked.

"Specifically, a Dalek," the scientist replied.

"Let's just chill it with the Doctor Who references now, okay?" Destro said. "Yes, I'm mad that I went from playing the star of a British cultural touchstone to the washed-up villain of a fanboy movie, but you don't have to rub it in my face."

A collective groan rose from the audience.

"This PowerPoint presentation is over," Destro snarled, stalking off stage.

As the audience left, General Hawk approached Destro. "Mr. McCullen, I was wondering when my nanomite warheads ship," Hawk said.

"They are shipping as we speak…just a heads up, Hawk, but you'll want to be careful with those," Destro said.

"Wait, here's a question…you've got the factory that makes these things, right?" Hawk asked.

"Yes."

"And the blueprints?"

"Yes."

"Then why don't you just make more warheads instead of stealing the ones that I already have in my possession?" Hawk asked. "Why don't you just delay shipping? Why don't you just-"

"General, screenwriters aren't known for their practicality," Destro said.

"Touché."


"So Duke, I have a question."

Duke tightened his grip on the steering wheel, and took a deep breath. "What is it, Ripcord?"

"Well, we've got these futuristic warheads, and these futuristic guns, and futuristic everything…and yet we still drive around in Hummers?" Ripcord looked expectantly at Duke.

"Apparently," Duke replied woodenly.

"And Duke? Please don't tell me that your lack of emotion is going to be a constant throughout this whole movie, because it's really getting on my nerves. I mean, seriously man, I'm having to talk about three times as much as normal to make up for your reticence, and I'm just getting more and more annoying every time I open my mouth," Ripcord said.

"Ripcord, do us all a favor and shut your face," Duke said.

"But I have some more foreshadowing that I need to do," Ripcord explained. "You see, I can fly lots of airplanes. In fact, I'm an amazing pilot. I'm so amazing, that the only thing the military could think to do with me is stick me in a car with a bunch of warheads."

Duke just stared straight ahead, apparently attempting to ignore Ripcord.

"So, Duke, what should I chatter about incessantly now?" Ripcord asked. "Women? Paris? You?"

"Just. Shut. Up."

Ripcord was about to launch into another monologue when an explosion shook the car. "Crap! It's the magic helicopter!"

"It's magic?" Duke asked, slightly puzzled.

"It comes bearing plot twists and unrealistic weaponry," Ripcord said.

"Great."

Not surprisingly, Duke and Ripcord's Hummer was blown to kingdom come. As the two men scrambled to retrieve the warheads, a woman in a black catsuit jumped from the helicopter and began to shoot people. Through some well-choreographed klutziness, she came face to face with Duke.

"Ana? Ana Lewis?" Duke asked.

"That's right, Duke," Ana replied. "It's your long-lost fiancée, Ana Lewis, available as 'The Baroness' for $6.99 at most locations. I'm here for the warheads."

"Ana, I can't let you do that," Duke said. "And are you sensing any onscreen chemistry?"

Ana responded by giving Duke a loving roundhouse kick to the face, managing, by some miracle, not to split the seams of her leather pants. "No, actually, I'm not," she replied, running after the nanomite warheads. "I wish Storm Shadow was here…"


She never said that. Besides, it's a vain, unnecessary thing to put in a story.

"She was thinking it," Storm Shadow said. "I should have been there."

Then where were you?

"It's none of your business," Storm Shadow replied primly. "Shall we continue?"


Meanwhile, the rest of the American soldiers had been slaughtered like the redshirts they were. Ripcord was alone. Just as it seemed that Vipers would overtake him, another magic helicopter showed up. Cripes! If this movie weren't completely brainless action, I would be looking for some symbolism, he thought.

Down came Scarlett (available for $6.99 at Target ©), Snake Eyes (life-sized mask and sword set available for $25.99 at Target ©), Heavy Duty (also available for $6.99 at Target ©), and Breaker (also available for, you guessed it, $6.99) riding in another magical helicopter (which I'm sure you can also buy at Target, although I couldn't find it on the website.)

"Greetings, United States peon," Scarlett said. "NATO is here, having finally decided that this is important."

"But the battle is over," Ripcord said.

"Wow, if this wasn't completely brainless action, I would be looking for some symbolism," Duke said, walking up with his gun ready and aimed.

"That doesn't matter. Give us the warheads," Scarlett said.

"No," Duke replied. "We sort of almost got killed for these things."

"Fine then. Let's blow part of our CGI budget," Scarlett said. "That'll convince you. Breaker?"

Breaker sighed, and placed a prop on the ground. "That thing is going to produce a hologram," he said, and sure enough, a hologram popped up.

"Wow. You guys have lots of money to burn, don't you?" Ripcord asked.

"We're trying to disguise the ineptness of our actors by covering it with CGI," Breaker explained. "It worked for Star Wars, so we were pretty sure that it would work for us too."

"Hello. I'm General Hawk," the image said.

"Skype has really improved in the future," Ripcord murmured.

"This movie is moving to North Africa, where our super-secret base is," Hawk said.

"I thought the Pit was in New York," Duke said.

"Nope. New York is so passé," Hawk replied. "Besides, we were only stationed there because every other Marvel hero in the universe – with the exception of the West Coast Avengers – was stationed there. Just because we never crossed over with them doesn't mean that there weren't…incidents."

Ripcord cocked an eyebrow.

"We're not affiliated with Marvel anymore," Hawk said. "That's just life."

"Spider-man didn't get sold," Scarlett said. "Neither did the X-Men, or the Avengers, or Howard the Duck for that matter. Why us?"

"I'm not privy to the inner workings of Marvel, Scarlett," Hawk replied. "All I know is-"


Seriously, Tommy, where were you?

"Snakes, it's rude to interrupt people," Storm Shadow said. "And I'm supposed to be the one with bad manners…"

Can I assume that you just weren't in the movie, or that you were visiting that fabled woman in Tokyo?

"If there was a woman in Tokyo, I wouldn't tell you about her," Storm Shadow replied. "Can we just-"

Why?

"Because if I did, the Joes would track her down and give her trouble. Now, we are ending this conversation about theoretical girlfriends, okay?"

Who is she?

"I'm not answering that."

Better question: how much do you pay her?

"I don't. And just for that, we're skipping directly to the helicopter scene-"


"So, who all is here?" Ripcord asked.

"I'm Scarlett. That's Heavy Duty, and this is Snake Eyes," Scarlett said.

"Snake Eyes, huh?"

Snake Eyes just stared at Ripcord like the antisocial psychopath that he is.

"Not a big talker I guess. Thank goodness. This way, I can hog lots and lots of screen time," Ripcord said. "Also, I can flirt with your love interest right in front of you! Hey Scarlett, if you were a pirate, would you put your parrot on your left shoulder…or your right?" Ripcord asked, leaning around to touch Scarlett's right shoulder and attempting to pull her into an embrace in the same motion.

Snake Eyes did nothing, once again hampered by either his inability to feel human emotion or his bizarre refusal to speak. Sometimes, one wonders why no one ever tried to put him out of his misery.

~~*~~

Put me out of my misery? Snake Eyes asked, indignant.

"Freudian slip," Storm Shadow replied nonchalantly.

It's still terrible.

"But you certainly can't begrudge me the thought, every now and again," Storm Shadow said.

I didn't ruin your life, Snake Eyes said.

"No, Snake Eyes, I like to give credit where it's due," Storm Shadow said. "And I have a continental breakfast with my name on it, so if you'll excuse me…" Storm Shadow swept up a duffel bag and headed for the bathroom.

Before he made it to safety, Snake Eyes caught his arm. I want to tell the next bit, he said.

Storm Shadow looked puzzled. "Sure. You only had to ask."

Snake Eyes smiled, and Storm Shadow couldn't help but wonder what lay behind those inscrutable blue eyes…