His footsteps ricocheted along the sterile cave walls. A trail of dust
followed behind the path of his cape as he made his way through the
darkness. His hand inched forward, searching for something familiar. His
finger grazed a small protrusion and, smiling, he flipped it upward. With
a snap the darkness bowed before the power of light, its dark hold giving
way to the white blaze of the fluorescent lights.
It'd been years since he'd been in the old Justice Cave. The place was remarkably spotless, which was odd considering the condition they had left it in. Raising his eyes towards the ceiling, he chuckled, gazing almost longingly at the mural Impulse had painted there all those years ago.
*We Rule* It said, in faded spray paint. Around it were crude representations of himself and his other fellow founders.
"Yes," he said to the mural. "We do indeed `rule'."
Robin pondered why he had come back. It wasn't like him to be sentimental like that. *Leads to too many mistakes* Batman had reasoned to him. It was almost macabre comedy coming from him.
Still, he was here. And, looking around, he wondered why he left in the first place. Or, rather, why THEY left in the first place. Looking at the new computer, which Oracle probably donated, he was starting to wish he had checked the place out before he told Batman they wouldn't be needing it anymore.
Yes, it had been a long and winding road from there to here. He often wondered how they even managed to stay alive this long. But they had, and, through all their adventures and misadventures, they had grown into something more than just a team. They had evolved into a family. And he was sure that, no matter what the future held in store for them, that it was nothing that they couldn't handle.
*flick*
*pffffffft*
The smell of lighter fluid and Nail cigarettes burned his nostrils. The sounds of rubber soles on cold earth scratched his inner ear. The Urban Legend spun on his heels, fists at the ready. But what stood before him was something he would have never suspected, and, frankly, would have liked NOT to have encountered.
"Yo yo yo! Jay and Silent Bob are in the HIZZOUS!" Jay and Silent Bob, two of the most recognizable, and certainly most controversial, characters ever to grace the silver screen. And there were there, in all their mis-adventurous glory. Which could mean only one thing...
"Crap! Not another cross-over!"
"`Fraid so, Tinkerbell," Jay said in his typical, cocky, oblivious, stoned-out Jersey way. "Me and Silent Bob were minding our own business when this voice was like *Yo, Jay and Silent Bob! You guys wanna be in a fan fic?* And I was all like, `We ain't into any of that gay stuff.' And the voice was all like *No, you misunderstand. A fan fic is where some socially repressed or creatively stifled individual such as myself takes characters not of his copyright and inserts them into stories of his own creation.* And I was all like, `Will there be chicks in it?' And he was like *%^& yeah* , and I..." He pauses. For the first moment in his entire life, Jay stopped talking of his own free will.
"%^&!" He yelled out at nothing in particular. "%^&!" he yelled again. Frustration and annoyance wrinkled his face. He turned his attention to Robin. "Man, why the %^& can't I say %^&!?"
"Because this is a PG-rated message board," he said with a sigh. "Which means no cursing, no gratuitous violence, and no sex."
"WHAT?!?"
"Those are the rules," he said with a shrug. "So what's the story about?"
"Huh?"
"*Sigh* You DID get a script, right?"
Jay stared at him blankly for a second, not sure what he meant (or having been too stoned at the time to remember ever GETTING a script). Bob, his cohort, DID know what he was talking about, and produced from his `utility jacket' a rather weighty script, which he handed to Jay.
"Looks like a long one," Robin remarked.
"No $#*%! You must have been trained by the world's greatest detective to figure that one out." Robin gave him the Bat-stare. For the second time in his life, Jay willingly shut up.
Just as he was about to actually read the text a new group of footsteps came from behind. Robin spun around, wielding the script like it was his bo staff.
Before him stood a very shocked Teen of Tomorrow.
"What do you plan to do, paper cut me to death?" Kon quipped as he regained his composure, sipping from his Slurpie to calm his nerves.
"What are you doing here?" Robin asked, handing the script back to Jay, who flashed him a rather indignant look.
"Dunno. I was just minding my own business, buying a Slurpie, when I had this overwhelming urge to visit the old cave. Which probably means we're doing another fan fic, right?"
"Afraid so."
"Eh. Hopefully the author's someone hot, like Su. I mean, there's just something about a girl with Gummi Bears up her nose that's just so darn....cute!"
"Give me Dixey any day."
"Man, you've never SEEN Dixey."
"She SEEMS cute."
"Whatever." Superboy glanced curiously at their two co-stars. The pair smiled and waved rather childishly, but still in a friendly manner. "So who's Tweedle Dumb and Tweedle Dumber over there?"
"Superboy, this is Jay and Silent Bob. Jay and Silent Bob, this is Superboy."
"`Sup."
"..."
Superboy gave them a cock-eyed look. "`Mallrats' $@%#ed. So, what's the script?"
Jay scanned the cover page.
"`Pending in Pennsylvania.'"
"You're joking, right? THAT'S the title? Who wrote it?"
Again, he scanned the cover page.
"Some guy named The Chosen One."
"ACK!" Robin cried.
"Not HIM!" Superboy groaned, holding his head as if he had the biggest migraine in history.
"What? What's wrong with The Chosen One?"
"What's WRONG with him? Did you ever read what he did to me in `The Last Laugh'? Him and that stupid `Kill Robin' fan fiction contest. I'm STILL having nightmares about it."
"At least he gave you the dignity of DEATH. You should've read the one he was working on for Orion. I mean, A SEX CHANGE?!? WHAT WAS HE THINKING??? Why is it that Kator's the only one that writes me with ANY respect? I just thank GOD the story got erased."
"Dude, you were gonna get a sex change?" Jay quipped, giving Silent Bob `the nod'.
"Not by CHOICE!" He yelled.
"Rrriiiggghhht."
"Oh sweet Mother of Mary," A voice echoed behind them. "Of all the people to get stuck in a fan fic with."
All four men turned to face the mouth of the cave. Emerging from the shadows were two unassuming sorts. They looked more like store clerks than characters of any significance. The one doing the talking, who was also the tallest of the pair, looked like someone you'd see frequently at hockey games. His sand brown hair was tucked underneath a backwards baseball cap, adorned with a simple white t-shirt and red over shirt, sleeves rolled up, and blue jeans. He had a air of cockiness about him, like he wasn't better than everyone else in the world, just better than anyone else in the room. His shorter, stumpier companion was almost his exact opposite. Slightly overweight and with black hair and moustache/goatee combo, he sported tan cargo pants, a green v-necked sweater and white t-shirt underneath. The way he stood betrayed the fact that he did NOT want to be there.
"Randal and Dante? What the *%^& are you two guys doing here?"
"Don't ask me," Dante whined. "I'm not even supposed to be in today."
"Geeze, must you always be a slave to repetitive dialogue?" Randal poked.
"Hey, can I help it if it's my tag line?"
"You COULD come up with something a little better than `I'm not even supposed to be in today'. Homer Simpson has more variety than you."
"I can't see how `D'oh' and `Woo hoo' can be considered tag lines. It's like that stupid grunt Tim Allen does."
"Hey, at least `D'oh' got into Webster's dictionary. And at least Tim Allen's stupid grunt garnered a sequel for `The Santa Clause'."
"Uh, guys," Robin interjected. "It's not that I'm finding your little argument annoying or anything..."
"Because we are..." Superboy wittily added.
"...but why ARE you here? And, for that matter, who are you?"
Randal, the tall one with the red over shirt, cleared his throat. "He's Dante Hicks. I'm Randal. You might remember us as the lead characters from the hit movie `Clerks', which helped springboard the careers of Scott Mosier and Kevin Smith." Silent Bob gave a knowing wink to the non-existent camera. "Turns out some guy who calls himself `The Chosen One' recently bought the DVD of our not-so-famous cartoon series, also called `Clerks', and loved it so much that he actually had the urge to include us in one of his fan fics. And thus, our reason for being here."
"No way!" Jay exclaimed. "You mean someone actually LIKED that piece of garbage?"
"Like you have any room to talk, Mr. `Heroes-Reborn-and-Maximum- Clonage-are-the- coolest-storylines-in-comic-book-history'."
"Hey, I LIKED Maximum Clonage," Robin interjected. Three sets of eyes bore through to his soul in response to his heretic words.
"Okay, enough pointless dialogue," Dante spoke up. "Let's take a look at this script."
The six men huddled over the mound of dead tree and ink, perusing the text with critical care, pointing out the various flaws in the plot line, and noting points that they actually liked.
"Alright! I get to score with Terri Jewel-Jackson!" Superboy exclaimed, pumping his fist in the air. "Thank YOU Chosen!"
"Now, if I'm supposed to be invulnerable, how is it that I'm injured by a flying cheese wedge?" Dante inquired.
"It's not really cheese, you see," Randal pointed out. "It's actually composed of Dorktonite, your natural weakness."
"No it doesn't. Let me see that." He flipped back through the pages to find that point in the plot.
"See," Randal said, fingering a rather out-of-place paragraph. "Right there."
Dante gave him a rather dubious look. "Okay, first off, that wasn't written there originally, YOU wrote it in there. Secondly, you wrote it in magic marker. Thirdly, you wrote it in three different colors of magic marker."
"Can't put anything past you, not can I?"
"What's up with me and Silent Bob through all this?" Jay complained. "All we ever do is stand around, get high, and say `Snoochie Boochies'. Who the heck says `snoochie boochies' anyways?" They group stared at him for a moment, hoping he'd figure it out for himself. When he didn't, they turned their attention back to the script.
"Okay okay," Robin said, getting back to the matter at hand, " we've fought off the giant flying monkeys, blah blah blah Superboy and Terri go off to make out again yadda yadda enter Bluntman and Chronic..."
"Bluntman and WHO?" Superboy ceased his fist-pumping.
"Our alter-egos," Jay said proudly. "I'm the MAAAAD Chronic, and tubby here's my side kick, Bluntman."
Superboy blinked. "Bluntman....and Chronic?" He shook his head in disgust. "You guys are the slacker amalgamation of `Cheech and Chong' and `Wayne and Garth' and you're considered icons. I'M the heir-apparent to Superman, PLUS happen to have the coolest powers out of anyone, and I get my comic cancelled. I tell you, there's no justice in the world."
"None whatsoever," Randal says. "Would it make you feel any better if I told you that in the next scene you get to make out with Terri AND Lucy Lu?"
"You better believe it!"
"Well, you don't. I, on the other hand, wind up in a room full of naked harems."
"Wait, how come you guys get all the chicks?" Dante asked, annoyed.
"Yeah, when do me and Bob here get to make it with the ladies?"
Robin flipped through the pages at random speed, slowing to a stop at an interesting passage. "Okay, here we go. `Bob, gazing into his true loves eyes, leans in closer...'"
"Alright. Lunch Box here gets some action."
"`And, in mad, uncontrollable passion...'"
"Wow," Randal said. "I should have brought popcorn for this."
"`...makes out with Robin'."
Dramatic music echoes from nowhere, as the large bearded man and the Urban Legend shot their heads up, the expressions on their faces not unlike that of a deer trapped in oncoming headlight. Silent Bob looked to his lanky companion, rapidly shaking his head, denying that he'd willingly let ANYTHING like that happen.
"Ew. I *%^& new it."
"THAT'S IT!" Robin exclaimed, tossing the script down to the cave floor with a thundering *SMACK!*
"Oh c'mon Rob," Superboy tried to reason, not wanting to lose his one- and-only chance with Terri Jewel-Jackson. "It's not THAT bad."
"Oh yeah. Well, you didn't read what happens in the next scene."
Curious Superboy picked up the script and flipped to the page in general. His eyes grew to the size of dinner plates.
"We do WHAT with a branding iron?!?"
*OH, GOOD. YOU'RE ALL HERE!* A voice boomed from both everywhere and nowhere at once.
"God?" Dante asked, awed by the voice.
*UH, CLOSE ENOUGH. IT'S ME, THE CHOSEN ONE.*
"Good, just the messed up freak case I wanted to see!" Robin spat, pointing and ranting at the sky, which he assumed was where C1 was residing. "I don't know where you get off subjecting people to your sick masochistic fantasies, but it stops HERE! I am TIRED of always being mistreated in your fan fiction. For once I want to be in a story where I don't have to worry about being gouged, gorged, shot at, beaten, or whatever sick plans that you've been concocting in that...that...fruity brain of yours!"
"`Fruity?'" Randal asked, cock-eyed. "That's the best insult you could come up with? `Fruity'?"
"Shut up! I'm sick and tired of it. And further more..."
*THE STORY'S CALLED OFF.*
"...come again?"
*THERE IS NO MORE STORY. YOUNG JUSTICE HAS BEEN CANCELLED.*
Superboy and Robin both stared at each other, searching for some kind of answer or logic with the other. And when none could be found, they responded the only way appropriate.
"WHAT?!?"
*YEP. DC DECIDED TO GET RID OF YOUNG JUSTICE AND TITANS IN ORDER TO PROMOTE A NEW TEEN TITANS CARTOON SHOW.*
"What happens to us?" Superboy asked. "Or, more importantly, what happens to ME?"
*OH, YOU'LL STILL BE AROUND. YOU'LL BE ON THE REVAMPED VERSION OF THE TEEN TITANS. HERE. SEE FOR YOURSELF.*
From the sky fluttered a single piece of paper. The pair picked it up, and gazed at what to be their future.
"I look like a crack junkie!" Was Robin's initial reaction.
"What the heck's up with my costume?? What was wrong with the old one???"
*HEY, I DON'T MAKE THE DECISIONS. IF IT'S ANY CONSOLATION, GEOFF JOHNS IS DOING WRITING.*
The pair shifted their heads from side to side, obviously not TOO disappointed with DC's choice of writers.
"Well, I guess..." Robin said, still rather pensive.
"He's no PAD, but he IS a Superboy fan..."Superboy said, finding a little more to be positive about then Robin.
"WHAT THE HECK IS UP WITH MY COSTUME???" A familiar voice squealed from the other side of the cave.
"YOUR costume? At least YOU don't turn to the dark side!" Another familiar voice rang out. The cave quaked with the sounds of angry Young Justice members, none of which too happy about their predicament.
"And with that as the obvious high note of our evening," Randal said matter-of-factly, noting that things were starting to get uncomfortably crowded, "I say we get going while the gettin's good."
"Here here!" Jay said.
"Were we that bad when our series was cancelled?" Dante inquired.
"Are you kidding. You were crying in your underwear for a week."
"No I wasn't. That was you."
"Snooch to the nooch."
Soft music plays us through as we fade to black.
The End.
It'd been years since he'd been in the old Justice Cave. The place was remarkably spotless, which was odd considering the condition they had left it in. Raising his eyes towards the ceiling, he chuckled, gazing almost longingly at the mural Impulse had painted there all those years ago.
*We Rule* It said, in faded spray paint. Around it were crude representations of himself and his other fellow founders.
"Yes," he said to the mural. "We do indeed `rule'."
Robin pondered why he had come back. It wasn't like him to be sentimental like that. *Leads to too many mistakes* Batman had reasoned to him. It was almost macabre comedy coming from him.
Still, he was here. And, looking around, he wondered why he left in the first place. Or, rather, why THEY left in the first place. Looking at the new computer, which Oracle probably donated, he was starting to wish he had checked the place out before he told Batman they wouldn't be needing it anymore.
Yes, it had been a long and winding road from there to here. He often wondered how they even managed to stay alive this long. But they had, and, through all their adventures and misadventures, they had grown into something more than just a team. They had evolved into a family. And he was sure that, no matter what the future held in store for them, that it was nothing that they couldn't handle.
*flick*
*pffffffft*
The smell of lighter fluid and Nail cigarettes burned his nostrils. The sounds of rubber soles on cold earth scratched his inner ear. The Urban Legend spun on his heels, fists at the ready. But what stood before him was something he would have never suspected, and, frankly, would have liked NOT to have encountered.
"Yo yo yo! Jay and Silent Bob are in the HIZZOUS!" Jay and Silent Bob, two of the most recognizable, and certainly most controversial, characters ever to grace the silver screen. And there were there, in all their mis-adventurous glory. Which could mean only one thing...
"Crap! Not another cross-over!"
"`Fraid so, Tinkerbell," Jay said in his typical, cocky, oblivious, stoned-out Jersey way. "Me and Silent Bob were minding our own business when this voice was like *Yo, Jay and Silent Bob! You guys wanna be in a fan fic?* And I was all like, `We ain't into any of that gay stuff.' And the voice was all like *No, you misunderstand. A fan fic is where some socially repressed or creatively stifled individual such as myself takes characters not of his copyright and inserts them into stories of his own creation.* And I was all like, `Will there be chicks in it?' And he was like *%^& yeah* , and I..." He pauses. For the first moment in his entire life, Jay stopped talking of his own free will.
"%^&!" He yelled out at nothing in particular. "%^&!" he yelled again. Frustration and annoyance wrinkled his face. He turned his attention to Robin. "Man, why the %^& can't I say %^&!?"
"Because this is a PG-rated message board," he said with a sigh. "Which means no cursing, no gratuitous violence, and no sex."
"WHAT?!?"
"Those are the rules," he said with a shrug. "So what's the story about?"
"Huh?"
"*Sigh* You DID get a script, right?"
Jay stared at him blankly for a second, not sure what he meant (or having been too stoned at the time to remember ever GETTING a script). Bob, his cohort, DID know what he was talking about, and produced from his `utility jacket' a rather weighty script, which he handed to Jay.
"Looks like a long one," Robin remarked.
"No $#*%! You must have been trained by the world's greatest detective to figure that one out." Robin gave him the Bat-stare. For the second time in his life, Jay willingly shut up.
Just as he was about to actually read the text a new group of footsteps came from behind. Robin spun around, wielding the script like it was his bo staff.
Before him stood a very shocked Teen of Tomorrow.
"What do you plan to do, paper cut me to death?" Kon quipped as he regained his composure, sipping from his Slurpie to calm his nerves.
"What are you doing here?" Robin asked, handing the script back to Jay, who flashed him a rather indignant look.
"Dunno. I was just minding my own business, buying a Slurpie, when I had this overwhelming urge to visit the old cave. Which probably means we're doing another fan fic, right?"
"Afraid so."
"Eh. Hopefully the author's someone hot, like Su. I mean, there's just something about a girl with Gummi Bears up her nose that's just so darn....cute!"
"Give me Dixey any day."
"Man, you've never SEEN Dixey."
"She SEEMS cute."
"Whatever." Superboy glanced curiously at their two co-stars. The pair smiled and waved rather childishly, but still in a friendly manner. "So who's Tweedle Dumb and Tweedle Dumber over there?"
"Superboy, this is Jay and Silent Bob. Jay and Silent Bob, this is Superboy."
"`Sup."
"..."
Superboy gave them a cock-eyed look. "`Mallrats' $@%#ed. So, what's the script?"
Jay scanned the cover page.
"`Pending in Pennsylvania.'"
"You're joking, right? THAT'S the title? Who wrote it?"
Again, he scanned the cover page.
"Some guy named The Chosen One."
"ACK!" Robin cried.
"Not HIM!" Superboy groaned, holding his head as if he had the biggest migraine in history.
"What? What's wrong with The Chosen One?"
"What's WRONG with him? Did you ever read what he did to me in `The Last Laugh'? Him and that stupid `Kill Robin' fan fiction contest. I'm STILL having nightmares about it."
"At least he gave you the dignity of DEATH. You should've read the one he was working on for Orion. I mean, A SEX CHANGE?!? WHAT WAS HE THINKING??? Why is it that Kator's the only one that writes me with ANY respect? I just thank GOD the story got erased."
"Dude, you were gonna get a sex change?" Jay quipped, giving Silent Bob `the nod'.
"Not by CHOICE!" He yelled.
"Rrriiiggghhht."
"Oh sweet Mother of Mary," A voice echoed behind them. "Of all the people to get stuck in a fan fic with."
All four men turned to face the mouth of the cave. Emerging from the shadows were two unassuming sorts. They looked more like store clerks than characters of any significance. The one doing the talking, who was also the tallest of the pair, looked like someone you'd see frequently at hockey games. His sand brown hair was tucked underneath a backwards baseball cap, adorned with a simple white t-shirt and red over shirt, sleeves rolled up, and blue jeans. He had a air of cockiness about him, like he wasn't better than everyone else in the world, just better than anyone else in the room. His shorter, stumpier companion was almost his exact opposite. Slightly overweight and with black hair and moustache/goatee combo, he sported tan cargo pants, a green v-necked sweater and white t-shirt underneath. The way he stood betrayed the fact that he did NOT want to be there.
"Randal and Dante? What the *%^& are you two guys doing here?"
"Don't ask me," Dante whined. "I'm not even supposed to be in today."
"Geeze, must you always be a slave to repetitive dialogue?" Randal poked.
"Hey, can I help it if it's my tag line?"
"You COULD come up with something a little better than `I'm not even supposed to be in today'. Homer Simpson has more variety than you."
"I can't see how `D'oh' and `Woo hoo' can be considered tag lines. It's like that stupid grunt Tim Allen does."
"Hey, at least `D'oh' got into Webster's dictionary. And at least Tim Allen's stupid grunt garnered a sequel for `The Santa Clause'."
"Uh, guys," Robin interjected. "It's not that I'm finding your little argument annoying or anything..."
"Because we are..." Superboy wittily added.
"...but why ARE you here? And, for that matter, who are you?"
Randal, the tall one with the red over shirt, cleared his throat. "He's Dante Hicks. I'm Randal. You might remember us as the lead characters from the hit movie `Clerks', which helped springboard the careers of Scott Mosier and Kevin Smith." Silent Bob gave a knowing wink to the non-existent camera. "Turns out some guy who calls himself `The Chosen One' recently bought the DVD of our not-so-famous cartoon series, also called `Clerks', and loved it so much that he actually had the urge to include us in one of his fan fics. And thus, our reason for being here."
"No way!" Jay exclaimed. "You mean someone actually LIKED that piece of garbage?"
"Like you have any room to talk, Mr. `Heroes-Reborn-and-Maximum- Clonage-are-the- coolest-storylines-in-comic-book-history'."
"Hey, I LIKED Maximum Clonage," Robin interjected. Three sets of eyes bore through to his soul in response to his heretic words.
"Okay, enough pointless dialogue," Dante spoke up. "Let's take a look at this script."
The six men huddled over the mound of dead tree and ink, perusing the text with critical care, pointing out the various flaws in the plot line, and noting points that they actually liked.
"Alright! I get to score with Terri Jewel-Jackson!" Superboy exclaimed, pumping his fist in the air. "Thank YOU Chosen!"
"Now, if I'm supposed to be invulnerable, how is it that I'm injured by a flying cheese wedge?" Dante inquired.
"It's not really cheese, you see," Randal pointed out. "It's actually composed of Dorktonite, your natural weakness."
"No it doesn't. Let me see that." He flipped back through the pages to find that point in the plot.
"See," Randal said, fingering a rather out-of-place paragraph. "Right there."
Dante gave him a rather dubious look. "Okay, first off, that wasn't written there originally, YOU wrote it in there. Secondly, you wrote it in magic marker. Thirdly, you wrote it in three different colors of magic marker."
"Can't put anything past you, not can I?"
"What's up with me and Silent Bob through all this?" Jay complained. "All we ever do is stand around, get high, and say `Snoochie Boochies'. Who the heck says `snoochie boochies' anyways?" They group stared at him for a moment, hoping he'd figure it out for himself. When he didn't, they turned their attention back to the script.
"Okay okay," Robin said, getting back to the matter at hand, " we've fought off the giant flying monkeys, blah blah blah Superboy and Terri go off to make out again yadda yadda enter Bluntman and Chronic..."
"Bluntman and WHO?" Superboy ceased his fist-pumping.
"Our alter-egos," Jay said proudly. "I'm the MAAAAD Chronic, and tubby here's my side kick, Bluntman."
Superboy blinked. "Bluntman....and Chronic?" He shook his head in disgust. "You guys are the slacker amalgamation of `Cheech and Chong' and `Wayne and Garth' and you're considered icons. I'M the heir-apparent to Superman, PLUS happen to have the coolest powers out of anyone, and I get my comic cancelled. I tell you, there's no justice in the world."
"None whatsoever," Randal says. "Would it make you feel any better if I told you that in the next scene you get to make out with Terri AND Lucy Lu?"
"You better believe it!"
"Well, you don't. I, on the other hand, wind up in a room full of naked harems."
"Wait, how come you guys get all the chicks?" Dante asked, annoyed.
"Yeah, when do me and Bob here get to make it with the ladies?"
Robin flipped through the pages at random speed, slowing to a stop at an interesting passage. "Okay, here we go. `Bob, gazing into his true loves eyes, leans in closer...'"
"Alright. Lunch Box here gets some action."
"`And, in mad, uncontrollable passion...'"
"Wow," Randal said. "I should have brought popcorn for this."
"`...makes out with Robin'."
Dramatic music echoes from nowhere, as the large bearded man and the Urban Legend shot their heads up, the expressions on their faces not unlike that of a deer trapped in oncoming headlight. Silent Bob looked to his lanky companion, rapidly shaking his head, denying that he'd willingly let ANYTHING like that happen.
"Ew. I *%^& new it."
"THAT'S IT!" Robin exclaimed, tossing the script down to the cave floor with a thundering *SMACK!*
"Oh c'mon Rob," Superboy tried to reason, not wanting to lose his one- and-only chance with Terri Jewel-Jackson. "It's not THAT bad."
"Oh yeah. Well, you didn't read what happens in the next scene."
Curious Superboy picked up the script and flipped to the page in general. His eyes grew to the size of dinner plates.
"We do WHAT with a branding iron?!?"
*OH, GOOD. YOU'RE ALL HERE!* A voice boomed from both everywhere and nowhere at once.
"God?" Dante asked, awed by the voice.
*UH, CLOSE ENOUGH. IT'S ME, THE CHOSEN ONE.*
"Good, just the messed up freak case I wanted to see!" Robin spat, pointing and ranting at the sky, which he assumed was where C1 was residing. "I don't know where you get off subjecting people to your sick masochistic fantasies, but it stops HERE! I am TIRED of always being mistreated in your fan fiction. For once I want to be in a story where I don't have to worry about being gouged, gorged, shot at, beaten, or whatever sick plans that you've been concocting in that...that...fruity brain of yours!"
"`Fruity?'" Randal asked, cock-eyed. "That's the best insult you could come up with? `Fruity'?"
"Shut up! I'm sick and tired of it. And further more..."
*THE STORY'S CALLED OFF.*
"...come again?"
*THERE IS NO MORE STORY. YOUNG JUSTICE HAS BEEN CANCELLED.*
Superboy and Robin both stared at each other, searching for some kind of answer or logic with the other. And when none could be found, they responded the only way appropriate.
"WHAT?!?"
*YEP. DC DECIDED TO GET RID OF YOUNG JUSTICE AND TITANS IN ORDER TO PROMOTE A NEW TEEN TITANS CARTOON SHOW.*
"What happens to us?" Superboy asked. "Or, more importantly, what happens to ME?"
*OH, YOU'LL STILL BE AROUND. YOU'LL BE ON THE REVAMPED VERSION OF THE TEEN TITANS. HERE. SEE FOR YOURSELF.*
From the sky fluttered a single piece of paper. The pair picked it up, and gazed at what to be their future.
"I look like a crack junkie!" Was Robin's initial reaction.
"What the heck's up with my costume?? What was wrong with the old one???"
*HEY, I DON'T MAKE THE DECISIONS. IF IT'S ANY CONSOLATION, GEOFF JOHNS IS DOING WRITING.*
The pair shifted their heads from side to side, obviously not TOO disappointed with DC's choice of writers.
"Well, I guess..." Robin said, still rather pensive.
"He's no PAD, but he IS a Superboy fan..."Superboy said, finding a little more to be positive about then Robin.
"WHAT THE HECK IS UP WITH MY COSTUME???" A familiar voice squealed from the other side of the cave.
"YOUR costume? At least YOU don't turn to the dark side!" Another familiar voice rang out. The cave quaked with the sounds of angry Young Justice members, none of which too happy about their predicament.
"And with that as the obvious high note of our evening," Randal said matter-of-factly, noting that things were starting to get uncomfortably crowded, "I say we get going while the gettin's good."
"Here here!" Jay said.
"Were we that bad when our series was cancelled?" Dante inquired.
"Are you kidding. You were crying in your underwear for a week."
"No I wasn't. That was you."
"Snooch to the nooch."
Soft music plays us through as we fade to black.
The End.