Coexistence: Chapter 2
The next day, Wally got a mental call from J'onn as he was pouring an entire box of cereal into a humongous porcelain bowl.
"Hello, Wally," greeted J'onn J'onzz, coolly in Wally's mind.
Wally started and clutched his chest.
"J'onn, dude you scared me!" said Wally, sighing in relief. "Why don't you use the phone?"
"This is faster," replied J'onn simply.
"Uh, O.K.; So what are you calling me for?" asked Wally as he began to eat his cereal with a spoon shaped as the trix rabbit.
"We need you at Justice League headquarters," explained J'onn.
Wally then groaned, "Please don't let it be monitoring duty again! I swear Orion was giving me the stink eye last time…"
"Don't worry Wally," reassured the martian, "there are more important things to attend to today."
"Like…?" trailed off Wally, his mouth full of coco-puffs.
"Four members of the Legion of Doom are planning to break into Fort Knox," explained J'onn.
"Uh…how urgent is it? 'Cause I kind of promised to deliver something to a pal of mine," said Wally.
"Well considering that Wonder Woman and Batman are on the scene and that the villains are not high profile, I estimate that you won't be needed for at least another forty minutes," answered J'onn.
"Perfect! Thanks, J'onn," replied Wally happily.
"You're welcome," said J'onn and then there was silence.
Wally, assuming that J'onn had now left his mind, got up and left his bowl in the sink.
He walked to the drawer next his bed and got out a ring with his insignia, a yellow lighting bolt surrounded by a white circle. Wally pressed a button on the side of the ring, and with a Pop, his costume came shooting out. Within a blink of an eye, Wally changed into his familiar scarlet costume. He tucked the ring back in the cabinet and then ran out his apartment door, then backtracked as he forgot to lock the door behind him. After that, Wally zoomed across the highways of Central City and then stopped at a local bistro called, "Sammy's Sandwich Shop". The door bells chimed as he walked inside the busy shop. People looked up and some waved, while others greeted him with an enthusiastic, "Hey, Flash!"
As Flash waved and greeted the people in the shop, a girl about ten years old stepped in front of him and asked shyly, "Um, hello, Mr. Flash. C-could you please sign this poster? My brother thinks you're cool and I do, too."
She held up a small poster with The Flash posing victoriously in a background of lighting bolts.
"Sure!" smiled Flash as he picked up the poster and quickly grabbed a pen from the pastry counter. "What's your name?"
"Margret," replied the girl.
"And your brother's?" asked Flash.
"Mark," answered Margret.
Flash wrote on the poster and added his signature with flourish. He handed it back to Margret and said, smiling genuinely, "Here you go."
"Thank you!" gushed Margret, now cradling the poster with care.
"You're welcome, kiddo," replied Flash, ruffling the girl's hair before walking up to the shop's counter.
"Hello, Sammy," greeted Flash, waving to the portly man in an apron, who was putting a fresh tray of quiche in the display counter.
"Flash! Welcome back!" welcomed Sammy, whole-heartedly. "What can I do for you today?"
"I need a bowl of chicken soup. A pal of mine is sick and I know that you have the best soup in the whole city," explained Flash.
"Why thank you Flash! I'll get that soup ready right away," answered Sammy as he went back into the kitchen to tell the cook the order.
A few minutes later, Sammy came back to the counter with a Styrofoam bowl full of steaming soup. He handed it to Flash at the counter and said, "Here you go Flash, one bowl of chicken soup."
"Thanks, Sammy," said Flash. He then reached into his boots and brought up a few dollars. He was about to hand the money to Sammy, but Sammy refused, saying, "No, no Flash, you don't have to pay me anything. After you saved my shop from a giant boomerang, I think I at least owe you this."
"You sure?" asked Flash and Sammy nodded. He then picked up the bowl of soup from the counter and Sammy added, "I hope your friend gets better."
"Thanks. Well, I'll be going now. See ya later!" replied Flash and then, like a bolt of lighting, he was off.
A few moments later, Flash arrived at a townhouse complex near the railroad tracks. He was able to jump the fencing that surrounded the complex and ran through the winding streets of the cul-de-sac until he reached a townhouse with the number 450 in bright neon colors. Wally knocked on the door once, twice, but there was no answer. Wally then decided to try his luck and jiggled the doorknob. The door quietly swung open and he peered inside.
"James, are you home?" asked Flash.
"Yes," wheezed out a sickly sounding voice, followed by a hacking cough.
"Mind if I come in?"
"Sure, sure. Be careful for the booby traps though. They're really tricky!" The Trickster then laughed weakly at his own pun.
Flash then proceeded to walk through the Trickster's house. He carefully avoided the stuffed animals, sport equipment, and various knickknacks that littered the hardwood floor. Flash tripped on a catapult on his way, but he was able to dodge the sharp tacks that flew at him. When he reached the Trickster's room, Flash greeted, "Hey James. Heard you were sick, so I brought some soup."
"Thanks," answered Trickster, who was lying on his bed, propped up by a dozen or so pillows. He was dressed in yellow and blue striped pajamas with a nightcap to match. On his nightstand was a stack of tissue boxes and below it was a wastebasket filled to the brim in used tissues.
"You know," added Trickster when Flash placed his soup on the nightstand, "The reason why I'm not doing any fiendish, dastardly things right now is because I'm sick. If I wasn't, Central City would be covered with explosive confetti by now."
"Uh, James, have you been taking your medication?" asked Flash in response, raising an eyebrow.
"Maybe…" answered Trickster, shifting his eyes nervously, but he quickly changed the subject. "Flash, if you don't mind, can you sit down for a sec? I got something to show you."
"Sure, just as long as it's not going to take too long. I gotta go in ten minutes," replied Flash.
"It won't, I promise. Just take a seat while I get my stuff," said Trickster as he got up and looked under his bed.
Flash spotted a chair nearby and sat on it. A loud Phff sounded and Flash got up, alarmed. Trickster then started laughing his head off, saying between laughs and coughs, "I can't believe you fell for it! You're such a sucker sometimes Flash!"
Flash looked under the chair cushion and surprise, surprise, found a whoopee-cushion underneath. Flash then laughed too, to the surprise of Trickster, who was expecting an annoyed look from the speedster.
"Not bad James," said Flash, grinning to Trickster as he threw the deflated whoopee cushion to him. "I did this once to Batman though and let me tell you, it wasn't pretty."
"I'll keep that in mind," answered Trickster. He then turned his attention to his polka-dotted duffel bag that he retrieved from underneath his bed.
As he was searching through the bag, he muttered, "Where are you, you little…ah, here!"
Trickster then exclaimed, "Ta daaaa!" as he pulled out a puppet version of Flash and himself. He handed them to Flash as he explained, "I know they don't seem like much but you know, I can't be a villain forever. So I thought to myself, 'Hey James, you're an inventor! Why not make money off of your genius?' So when I retire from the supervillain biz, I wanna make a toy company!"
"That's a great idea!" said Flash, looking up from the yellow button eyes of his puppet likeness. His smile then turned into a concerned frown as he remembered the various "toys" that Trickster had made in the past to fight him. "Uh, I hope they're not going to be spiting out bullets," added Flash.
"Oh come on Flash! All my toys would be non-lethal of course! Do I look like Toyman to you?" asked Trickster. He then added hastily, "That's a hypothetical question, don't answer it."
"Well I'm sure you'll do great. By the way, nice job on the puppets, the Flash one looks like a stud," said Flash smiling as he handed back the puppets to Trickster.
"If you want my opinion, I think the Trickster one is better looking. There's nothing sexier then yellow and blue striped pants," replied Trickster smirking.
"Ah-uh, in your dreams maybe," answered Flash, unconvinced.
Trickster then responded, "Deny it all you want, Flash, but I know you secretly want a pair."
"And dye my hair pink and wear a shirt with poka-dots? No thanks," said Flash. Trickster blew a raspberry at him and threw a pillow at his head in retaliation. Flash jumped up and caught it midair. He then ran to Trickster and began to pummel him mercilessly with the pillow. It looked like it hurt but Trickster was made of hardier material; all he did was giggle.
Trickster tried to attack Flash, but it was hard to win a pillow fight when your opponent ran at super speed and you weren't feeling so well. Soon Trickster shouted, "O.K, O.K Flash you win, I give up!"
Flash stopped and leaned against the wall. "Hey that's what you get for hitting me with a pillow."
"Yet again, Flash saves the day from the diabolical Trickster!" announced Trickster. He then muttered to himself, "Hey that sounds good. I should write that down."
"Uh, James, what time is it? I can't read your clock," interrupted Flash, looking up at the odd clock that Trickster had mounted on his wall. Instead of numbers, it had pictures of fruits in various hats and the hands of the clock went counter clock wise.
"Technically that clock isn't mine. Well, I guess now it's mine, but the Mad Hatter gave it to me," replied Trickster. His eyebrows furrowed in thought as he continued, "and I don't even know the guy..."
"James?" asked Flash impatiently.
"Oh! Yah, it's twelve o' clock," stated Trickster as he glanced at the clock.
Flash eyes widened as he exclaimed, "I'm late! The league's going to kill me!"
"Really? Well don't forget to invite me to your funeral then," commented Trickster. A pillow was immediately thrown at his face for that remark.
"Well, see ya around, James," said Flash hastily and then added before he zoomed out of the house, "Take your meds!"
"I will!" shouted Trickster as he watched the scarlet speedster run off.
As soon as Flash was gone, Trickster walked to his bathroom cabinet, grabbed his prescription pills and dumped them in the toilet, smiling in triumph as he flushed them down.
"Sorry Flash, but you know I hate medication. Takes away my creativity, that's what it does," muttered Trickster to himself as he walked back to his room and sat on his bed. He looked up on a shelf on the side of his bed that had a row of puppets he had made of his fellow rogues, along with the Flash puppet. The puppet Flash seemed to be looking down at him and Trickster replied, "What? I'm not doing anything wrong." There was a period of silence as the puppet Flash and Trickster stared at each other. Then Trickster broke the silence by responding, "Well, screw you! I don't need anybody telling me what to do, especially you!" Trickster then reached up at the shelf and turned the Flash doll face down. He then got out a voice-recorder and pressed the record button.
"Note to self; make sure to make puppets without a conscious. Another note to self; don't use whoopee-cushions when fighting Batman…"