I seriously needed to spread out Barry and Clint's story. Gah. Eleven thousand words is way too long. I hope you guys enjoy this!
Random Lady - Originally I was going to have them transport a few hours forward in time, but where's the fun in that? I feel that Barry and Clint would get along pretty well considering they have the same sense of humor (sometimes). Thanks for the compliment :)
Blue/Bonfire - They get along well huh?
Tenza - Put it this way, Clint is going to have respect for Barry now. Oliver...not so much XD
Crystal - Yep. That's a total Oliver move.
Amy - Thank you
fan01 - I update when I can
Disclaimer: I own only the plot. DC characters belong to DC Comics/CW and Marvel characters belong to Marvel/Stan Lee.
Earth Unknown: Location—Under New York City
8 hours earlier
There were gaps in the ground below them full of twisted metal that were rusted out, a gleamed orange and black against the light. The coloration was so intriguing, that Barry couldn't help but bend down to gently run his finger against them. The metal crumpled to dust with his touch and left behind the smell of oxidized iron.
He stood up and winced as muscle stretched tightly against his ribs and hip. Hot pain spread up his side and made his neck feel as if it were on fire. To keep his mind off the discomfort, he kicked a pebble that was under his foot, "It was some type of rail system at sometime."
The rock bounced and the sound echoed as it danced down the corridor. Barry couldn't help but shutter, memories of the last time he had been underground flashing through his head. It had not entirely been pleasant. Hopefully, this New York would not live up to the term 'the concrete jungle'. By definition...no giant crocs...and no giant talking gorillas.
"Looks like this was part of the old subway system," Clint breathed shining the flashlight down the track, its light becoming swallowed up by the shadows, "Before the city closed it. Years ago no doubt. Like...my great-grandfather existence ago."
He stuck the device under his left arm pit and started digging furiously around in his pockets; finding nothing in his right. The archer extracted a hunting knife, a pack of gum from his the other pocket and cursed. He stuffed the knife into a hidden compartment under his suit before popping a piece of gum into his mouth and discarding its package into its original location.
Barry watched him curiously, wondering what the heck he had planned. But the speedster respectfully did not say anything, and trotted a little away from the archer, making sure to avoid the giant potholes in the ground. He crouched down and gently tapped his finger on the surface of the concrete. Even through his suit, he could feel the chilly air leaking up from the smooth ground, sanded down by rushing water. He glanced back at Clint who had likewise stopped and was bending over as if to tie his shoe, though he was clearly watching Barry out of the corner of his eye. His arms were bare and he could see that even that the man was a seasoned veteran, even he was shivering from the temperature.
Quietly, the speedster stood and walked back over still clutching his side. Clint suddenly pulled a rectangular shaped object from his boot, and his expression became excited.
"Oh...I am so going to make you eat your words Tony."
Seeing Barry's puzzled expression he explained his statement, "In case the string on my bow snaps...all I have to do is restring it. Tony thought me sticking it to the side of my shoe was a stupid idea." His face suddenly soured and he popped a bubble of gum he had formed, "Your archer friend actually made me start carrying a spare."
The speedster scratched the back of head sheepishly recalling what Oliver had told him, "First of all...doesn't that feel a tad bit uncomfortable? And second...yeah...I don't really think he is going to apologize for that."
Clint grunted but he had a smirk on his face, "Somehow that doesn't surprise me." He tossed the spool up in the air before catching it, "These old subway systems are like a labyrinth. Should have a way to backtrack without getting lost."
"We're going to have to watch out for floods," Barry said. He quickly explained his discovery. The archer's expression became just as grim and worried as his.
"Now we know where the water goes when it rains," Clint said shining the flashlight down on the floor below, "This place becomes an underground river."
He turned and shone the light on the pile of rocks they had been trapped under. The debris mass went up to the ceiling, squeezing any available light from above from shining. It was honestly terrifying, and Barry felt his lungs compress. Had he been a little slower...
He watched a Clint limp over to the rocks and quickly tie a knot around the twisted pieces of a water pipe. Water was dripping slowly out of the end of it, and splattered on his shoes as he worked. After a couple of minutes, he began to feed out the string until he reached where Barry was standing. Wordlessly, he handed the spool and a stick of gum to him before making his way painfully down the track. The speedster glanced back at their former prison, before hurrying after him—admitting slower than he had run had his powers been at their peak.
Along the way, he began to chew the gum wishing the entire time it had calories he could use. It tasted of mint, with an odd background taste that seemed almost medicine like.
"So..." he said slowing to a normal pace once he was standing directly next to the archer, "They call you Hawkeye?" He felt rather awkward; he didn't know how to make small talk in this type of situation.
"Got a problem with that kid?" Clint's voice was ragged with pain, but he still managed to sound sarcastic. He spat to the side and the glob of gum became a vibrant blue color on the black floor.
"No," Barry said quickly, "Just wanted to say its a cool codename. Cisco would be jealous."
"Cisco..." Hawkeye grunted and managed to pull himself forward before grimacing, "Is he the guy that Wanda was scaring the crap out of?"
The speedster did not respond, but the archer must have known the answer was yes, for he did not ask it a second time. Instead he picked up his pace with Barry following along. They traveled silently, the only sound they could hear was of their breathing and occasional settling of the foundation as a heavy vehicle ran over it from above. Clint clearly was in agony from his injuries, but he didn't slow, nor appear to want to stop.
Only twice they were forced to stop: once to replace the batteries in the flashlight and the second time to attach another spool of string to the one they were using. Then it was back to searching for a way out. Initially, Barry had offered to race ahead and try to find an exit quicker, but his companion had balked at the idea and said he would shoot him if he did. Clearly, he still had trust issues. Barry tried not to act disappointed and annoyed as they continued walking.
There was something strange about Clint's attitude. He seemed to be wary of Barry and familiar to his powers, which was rather strange since the latter had done nothing to hurt him nor had shown him all his abilities. The speedster had mentioned this, and was met with a glare that seemed to pale Oliver's in comparison. So, he shut his mouth and passed the time counting backwards from fifty-two thousand and watching as the concrete went to dirt before going back to cement.
After it seemed like they would never stop seeing graffiti, deserted passenger waiting ports and rats about the size of house cats, they reached a crossroads. The passage on the right was covered in spider webs and stank of mildew and things best left along. The one in front did not appear to have anything wrong with it. But...it still felt unpleasant. The one on the left was caved in, with an opening barely big enough to squeeze through.
With their injuries...it would be a good decision to choose another passage. Preferably the one that was less dangerous.
"Let's take a break," Clint broke the silence; his voice was weary and his breathing was ragged, "If I go any further...my leg is going to give out on me."
He collapsed against the side of the tunnel and dropped his bow in the dirt beside him. Barry stood uncomfortably above him and rubbed his foot into the patch of dirt that had been worn into the concrete slab. His legs didn't hurt, but his side and right hip were still throbbing like a drum. The archer looked at him and waved his hand, "Sit down will you? You're making me tired just looking at you."
Barry warily eyed him before quickly sitting on a gravel slab that jutted out, taking care to sit with his back to the wall and that he could keep an eye on the way that they came and the tunnels, but could also engage in a conversation. If Hawkeye found this strange, he made no comment. Instead, he stretched his injured leg out and sighed in relief.
"I'd spit that gum out I were you," Clint said noticing that Barry was still chewing it, "Its basically something that helps ease the pain but not to digest. Try to think of it as anesthetic gum."
"Creative," the speedster admitted but decided to continue to chew, hoping that for once pain-meds would work on him.
"If we get out of this alive, my friends are going to be in a shock," Hawkeye snorted with a slight grin as he dropped his head back against the wall behind him, "I bet Cap will lose five years to his life."
"Green Arrow is probably going to punch me in the face," Barry said gently rubbing his injured hip, realizing he probably broken his pelvis, "Hard."
He watched a trickle of water as it dribbled out of the end of a pipe next to him. He stuck his hand under it and found the water to be cold and fast moving suggesting it was pretty clean. By cupping his hand, he was able to collect some in the makeshift bowl.
"You're kidding me right?"
"No," the speedster chuckled washing some of the blood off his face with the water, "He's shot me in the back already...twice."
Clint snorted before picking up a pebble and flinging it accurately at a passing rat. The sound of a surprised squeak echoed through the tunnels before dying as the animal fled to hunt elsewhere. It seemed to ease the tension between the two and both of the men relaxed.
"God," the archer banged his head against the wall behind him again, "What I'd give for food right now. Even a freaking energy bar would do..."
Slowly and before he realized what he was doing, Barry extracted one of Cisco's bars from inside his shoe. Catlin had forced him to store them there for emergencies, and being a stubborn fool he initially refused to do so. Man...he was so glad she wasn't here to see this. Wincing from the effort as it was like trying to crack a brick in half, the speedster managed to snap off a piece about the size of a miniature rice cake; he handed it to Clint who eyed it suspiciously.
"Energy bar," Barry explained extracting the wad of gum from his mouth and wrapping it back up in the wrapper it had come from, "Tastes like cardboard."
"I have nothing against cardboard," the archer grinned, "So I won't mind."
He gingerly nibbled at the end of it and balked, the tip of his tongue hanging out of his mouth in disgust, "Gah. Yep...cardboard. Pttf. You should've mentioned sawdust while you were at it. Who the hell made these?" He bit off another chunk, face souring as he did, "They deserve to taste this with their eyes closed."
Barry snorted with a faint smile before taking a bite of the food. It slid painfully into his stomach which grabbed it, and demanded more. He took another bite and another until it was gone. Only then did he answer, "Ultra-high metabolism. I constantly need food...so my friend created this in order to keep up with the calories I burned. That's why I gave you a very small amount...its extremely potent."
The archer nodded thoughtfully before picking up another rock and throwing it at another rat—or perhaps the same one, drawn in by the smell of the energy bar—who came too close. The animal fled shrieking and both men relaxed once more the sound faded. They allowed their minds and bodies to heal during the temporary stop.
"If you don't mind me asking," Barry broke the silence. He paused before continuing, "That girl who was with you. You know the one with telekinesis? Um...why was she acting so..." He trailed off, unable to finish the statement.
The archer gave him a long look, "You're not going to let this go are you?" Seeing the speedster shake his head, Clint sighed, "She...had a brother who had powers like you. He was a bit of a dick...but he still was a good kid."
"Oh..." Barry bit his lip realizing that this speedster was perhaps this earth's version of him, "You said was."
There was absolute silence, a period that lasted so long that he was uncertain that Hawkeye would ever talk again. His rugged features were lost in the past and he appeared to be grieving. When he spoke, his voice had no emotion but yet seemed warmer than Oliver's tone when he spoke that way.
"He's dead," Clint replied flatly, "He saved my life...but died doing so." He tapped one of his unbroken arrows on the ground in front of him and stated scratching something into the soil, "Wanda took it rather hard. The whole team did. He was...not one of the good guys initially, but he made up for it in the end."
"I'm sorry," Barry truly was and knew how to form his words and tone so it sounded sincere and empathetic. He understood what it was like to lose a loved one, "What was his name?"
"Pietro." Hawkeye sniffed as if he were about to sneeze and continued to draw his design.
The speedster nodded slowly before saying quickly, "I'm sorry for allowing her to see me. If I had known—"
"Not your fault kid," the archer grunted smudging away his drawing with a quick swipe of his hand, "It would have happened eventually. Tony wouldn't have kept his trap shut around her." He paused for a moment and asked with a slight sigh and smile, "You have more questions don't you? Why do I get the sense you're a cop?"
"I'm not a cop," Barry he smiled faintly, "I just work for the police."
"That explains it. If you work for the police, then in my mind you are a police," Clint grumbled though kindly, "Okay. Fine." He held up his index finger,"You get one more question."
"Whose the red-haired lady?"
The archer eyed him curiously but his shoulder stiffened in surprise, "You mean Natasha? What about her?"
"Nothing," Barry tried to keep a straight face, "I just noticed that you guys seem very close. Before I blacked out...I heard her screaming."
It was a sound he never wanted to hear again. It was like his mother's cries the night she had been murdered. Barry's vision started to have black dots swarm in front of it, and he clutched his stomach to prevent himself from keeling over. God, he thought, Stop it Barry. This isn't the time for a memory attack.
"She and I were partners in our old S.H.I.E.L.D days," Clint shrugged not noticing the speedster discomfort, "She has my back, I have her back etc. We're still partners actually...well were until the team split."
"S.H.I.E.L.D?"
"I forgot you aren't from around here," the archer remarked rubbing his leg, "Stands for Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division. Former agent...I handed most missions until I joined the Avengers."
He stood up and braced his uninjured shoulder against the side of the tunnel. Barry did likewise and picked the flashlight and the spool of thread up, "Sound a bit like A.R.G.U.S. It stands for Advanced Research Group Uniting Super. Basically its a bunch of agents who go investigate inhumanly possible events pertaining to Meta...err...superhumans and aliens."
"And I thought S.H.I.E.L.D was a mouthful," Clint smirked.
Barry laughed and held their only light source up. He shone it into the two tunnels, "So which way?"
"When all else fails," Clint said trudging forwards, "Go forward. By which I mean...the one in front."
Earth Unknown: Location—Under New York City
2 hours earlier
Going forwards was the worst decision. Had bad luck been real, Clint would have been rather paranoid about black cats, walking under ladders, and broken mirrors. But he wasn't and had dismissed the whole ideology as bullshit.
Unfortunatly, it seemed to be laughing in his face.
They hadn't even gone a mile before some concrete gave way and almost took Barry with it. Unfortunatly, the man was not able to react in time and fell down through the hole to the level below them. The archer was quick and managed to snatch the Barry's arm leaving him dangling over an abyss. By using his left arm and leg as an anchor, he used his wounded arm in order to make the catch. The archer couldn't believe he managed not to pass out as he hauled the speedster up and over the gap, gritting his teeth to swallow the howls of pain. To the speedster's credit, he had not exactly gone limp, thus providing dead weight, and once his right foot touched the edge, he got out without assistance.
"Guess we're even," Barry deadpanned as he glanced down at the enormous sinkhole that had nearly swallowed him.
"Yeah," Clint couldn't help but whimper from stretching the bruised muscle out, "Man...karma's a bitch right now." He rubbed his right shoulder, grateful he hadn't dislocated it. Despite his thin build, Barry was honestly quiet heavy.
The speedster cracked a grin at the statement. He glanced down at the hole, muttered something under his breath and crossly kicked some dirt and rocks into it, "Next time...I rather fight a giant crocodile."
"At least the hole didn't have razor sharp teeth," the archer joked as they watched debris trickle into the gap.
"And hates bananas," Barry's statement sounded like a joke, but when Clint looked at his face he could sense there was a story behind his words and that he wasn't joking.
"Do I even want to know?"
"No," the speedster shook his head, "Trust me. You don't."
He turned so that his back was to the archer, shrugged the mask off his face and wiped his brow which was sticky with both sweat and dried blood. To Clint's surprise, the wound on the man's head was already half-way healed which should have been impossible considering by the amount plasma that had trickled out, the cut was down to the speedster's skull. Clint could not see much of the speedster's features as he had turned his back so that only part of his profile was visible; Clint estimated his age range young and his hair color a dark brown. Seeing the archer staring at him out of the corner of his eye, Barry without turning around asked suspiciously, "What?"
"Shouldn't you be in high school?" Clint said dumbly.
Barry pulled his mask on, turned, and gave him a lopsided grin, "I'm older than I look. You wouldn't believe how many times I'm teased about this. They used to call me 'baby-face' at the police force until—" he cut himself off and bit his bottom lip.
"Now you're making feel old..." the archer muttered noticing the hesitation but choosing not to point it out. He gestured to the side of his head in the position the other's wound was located, "How did that heal so quickly?"
The speedster didn't answer for a few moments. When he did, his answer was brief, "It wasn't too deep, so it scabbed over quickly."
"Kid...that wound was open a couple of hours ago," Clint sighed already tired of playing this game.
Barry shook his head, "I don't know what you're talking about." He glanced down and watched as the pothole grew bigger, "Lets move before one of us falls through again. Stupid me. I should have been looking where I was going." The speedster trudged away, pretty soon only the gold highlights outlining his back were visible in the flashlight beam.
Clint muttered something non-complementary towards his companion and followed him. It was painful, hard work making it from point a to point b. A few times they had to stop and squeeze through fallen pillars in the tunnel. Other times, they had to skirt along the edges of the tunnel due to the weakness of the ceiling. To lighten the mood, Clint cracked a couple of jokes:
"What do you call a VW bus on the top of a hill?
"How long does it take Tony to change a light bulb?
"What kind of bagel can fly?
"What's Forest Gump's Password?
He only managed to produce a grim smile on the other. Short ridiculous stories also had the same effect. Apparently, after the incident with talking about his abilities, Barry had closed up...again.
It was also freaking cold. A couple time Clint found himself rubbing his arms and shuttering. His companion appeared not be doing any better; the tips of his lips were turning purple, just a shade below blue. The archer recognized it as early stages of hypothermia and realized that if the crushing debris above them didn't kill them, the cold would.
After a million hours, they arrived at an old maintenance door imbedded in the side of the wall. It was locked with a giant metal padlock holding the two doors together.
"Of course," Clint said sarcastically, "We almost died a couple of times...and the only thing that stands between us and freedom is a freaking door."
He set the flashlight down on the ground and removed a thin wire from the base of his shoe. Before, he could take a step forward and pick the lock, Barry wordlessly put his hand out; fingers together, hand turned so that his thumb was in the air and his palm was visible from the side. His hand started vibrating so fast that it appeared to be just a scarlet blur with gold color electricity sparking off it. The speedster, put his hand on the chain and with a metallic tinkle it fell to the ground, the ends glowing red and white from the melted metal.
"That's hell of a way to open a door," the archer commented with a low whistle.
Barry made no comment but struggled to wrestle the door open more than an inch. A couple of spiders scurried out and crawled over their feet in order to get to the shadows around them. Clint not caring he'd squashed a few, stuck the flashlight under his arm and braced his uninjured arm against the door to assist the man. With a high pitch squeal, the corroded metal eventually listened to their efforts and opened. Breathing heavily, both men did not enter. Hawkeye shown the flashlight up the stairwell and panned it back and forth across the stairs. He didn't see anything wrong with them...but the beam of light only went so far.
"Perhaps we should..." he started to say before the speedster quite literally flew past him.
Electricity sparked off Barry as he shot up the stairs, gone before Clint could finish blinking. There was an uncomfortable silence as the archer realized that he was now alone. Mentally, he cursed himself for not doing anything to prevent the speedster from doing this. Before, he could start the uncomfortable, agonizing, journey up the stairs, he heard the sound of rushing wind blowing down the stairwell and a yellow glow at the top. Barry suddenly materialized leaning against the wall, gasping for air and clutching at his ribs. The archer couldn't help but jump back away from the speedster and was rewarded with a pain emanating from his injured leg.
He swallowed the swear he had prepared and chose to glare; an expression that was ignored.
"Stairway is...safe..." Barry wheezed, his legs quivering slightly from the strain, "Door...is...rotten shut. But...its clear..."
"I thought you ditched me," Clint admitted.
The speedster grinned while he kept breathing heavily, "Heh. Sorry...needed...to...stretch...my...legs."
He clapped his hand on the wall next to him and motioned that Clint would go first, bowing slightly as he did. Being a mature grown man, the archer stuck his tongue out at him before limping past him. They were rather quiet on the way up, maybe it had something to do with them getting out of the pits of Hell. Instead of being hot, their prison was cold. The last leg of the journey did not go without its hazards.
Once, Hawkeye slipped and put his hand out to catch himself. Upon feeling something slimy, he recoiled in disgust. He didn't even want to smell whatever it was. Barry didn't seem to find their surroundings particularly gross, but he had his nose wrinkled up as if the stench in the corridor bothered him.
There was a sudden loud snap, and the speedster swore as he jumped into the air. He dropped the spool of thread in his surprise. The sounds were so explosive that Clint would have thought a bomb had gone off if he hadn't seen what had been dropped and activated. Barry bent over, and with a wince extracted an ancient rat trap from the tip of his shoe.
"I didn't step on this the first time I ran through here," he grumbled, "At least we know this stairway is...or was used for maintenance."
"Guess so," Clint frowned as he paned the flashlight around exposing corroded and dangling wires which looked like grabbing fingers, "I've seen a lot of creepy things in my life that haven't scared me...but I have to admit this is a bit scary."
"This better not be a Friday the Thirteenth set up," Barry commented as he hopped up another stair before turning to check on Hawkeye, "If a guy wearing a hockey mask appears...I'm getting us out of here. I don't care if I pass out later from the effort."
Clint had to grin even though the speedster sounded serious about the joke, "If a guy wearing a hockey mask appears...how about you let me shoot him before we get out of here? We can't have a maniacal psychopath roaming the streets."
Barry snickered though not unpleasantly, "God...then you better not come to a horror movie marathon. You and Green Arrow would probably shoot every actor who was paid to scare people."
Hawkeye had no comment to that, but had to begrudgingly agree to the speedster's statement; the archer hated being jump scared...a fact that Tony tried and later regretted. Slowly but surely they eventually reached the final step that was barred by a tall metal door. It was swollen shut and riveted with rusted holes that had insets nesting in them. Clearly, this corridor had not been used for a long time.
Clint used his bow to prod the corded metal, causing parts of the door to cave in on itself, "What I'd give for one of your friends cryorrows."
"At least you call it by the correct name..." Barry grumbled from somewhere behind him, "Arrow hates that term. He just call it an ice arrow...or trick arrow...or whatever."
"Does that guy not hate anything?"
The archer turned back to the speedster who had his chin resting on his knuckles as he considered this statement. When he spoke, he shrugged with a faint smile, "Nah. He hates most things. He likes me and several of his teammates...which must count for something."
Clint grunted in response and turned back to the door. He very carefully used one of his regular tipped arrows to chip away at the hinges of the door. He would have preferred to lock pick it, but there was no lock to use a wire on. Barry also helped. He stood on his tip toes and started heating up the metal of the top hinge until it completely melted; taking care not to allow the molten metal to drip onto his companion. Then he moved onto the middle one while Clint worked on the bottom one. It was hard, slow work, and both men soon became chilled from their efforts. This did not help that they were in a room that was cold enough to store meat in.
With a faint groan, the door began to tip over and Clint stepped to the side to avoid getting his toes squashed. The door smashed into the stairwell and slid down it like a ski slope before smashing into the darkness below. Barry took a step after it and surveyed the torn up pavement it left behind, "That's hell of a way to open a door."
"I copyright that statement," Clint jeered but he grinned.
He smelled the stinky city air, one he hated in comparison to the fresh air he normally got by the farmhouse. But at this point, he didn't even care if it smelled of rose petals and violets...he was just glad he was out of the old subway system. Hawkeye walked out of the tunnel and shielded his eyes from the glare of a street light. The air was not much warmer in the city but he basked in it. A shuffling noise behind him, made him turn his head to see the speedster step out of the dark doorway. The man's face was pale and his bottom lip was bleeding from where he bit it in his pain. But it didn't stop him from smiling.
"Never thought I'd say that the next time I do something this stupid," he huffed, "I'm going to let Catlin chew me out for two hours straight."
"Catlin?" Clint mused before saying slyly, "She's your girlfriend?"
Barry's face turned a perfect shade a red matching his suit's normal color, "What!? NO! She's just a friend...co-worker...teammate...whatever." He paused as he rubbed his injured ribs, "And before you say 'yeah...sure buddy', I'm going to tell you...I'm serious."
"Just teasing you kid," the archer smirked.
He limped forward and surveyed the street. There wasn't a single taxi in sight. He sighed. Even if there was one...he was not about to call it over. Lord knew what the price on their heads were after the giant fight in Manhattan. Clint sighed before shuffling back over to the speedster, "Can you run?"
Barry shrugged and scratched the back of his head. He stopped the second he felt a miniature mud slide cascade down his back, "Maybe. Ribs are still busted...and my hip is killing me. I hope you don't get motion sickness."
"You're looking at the man who managed to hold on to his lunch on the hardest ride on Coney island and the Kingda Ka," Hawkeye scoffed, "I can handle speed."
The speedster shrugged again, "I guess so." He did another awkward pause, "I need to pick something up first, and then give me directions to wherever you guys hang out. Your layer...I mean."
Clint snorted, "Better not let Tin Man hear you say that. He'd get insulted."
Barry rolled his eyes before grabbing ahold of him, making sure to place his hand carefully behind the archer's head to prevent his neck from snapping from the whiplash. In a split second, both of them were gone, leaving only swirling newspapers and the smell of burnt rubber behind.
That was a long chapter. I probably will not update for a while because it. Hope you guys enjoyed!
Here are the answers to the jokes I gave.
What do you call a VW bus on the top of a hill?—a miracle. (Some VW are notorious for sputtering to top of a large hill)
How long does it take Tony to change a light bulb?—Three hours since there was Vaseline rubbed all over the bulb. (Clint...was this joke necessary to play on Stark?)
What kind of bagel can fly?—a plain bagel (This was corny)
What's Forest Gump's Password?—1Forest1 (Get it? Run, Forest, Run?)
Kindga Ka is the world's tallest roller-coaster and the second fastest in the world. Its located in Jackson, New Jersey. I've never been on it personally, but I've heard rumors its scary fast.
~Sil