Chapter 13: Cheez 'Em!
Dr. Mid-Nite's mandible goes slack. His jaw drops. Charles sees Mr. Atom slam Starman by the mantle into a marble mantel. May Ted's forcefield be with him! From the side, maleficent Mr. Banjo swings his namesake instrument. Smack! The cowhide head hits hero Mid-Nite right in the face. Like slapstick farce in silent cinema.
Promptly furious, Doc seizes stout schlub and silly supervillain, "C'mer!"
Brown leather glove jerks white seersucker suit to blurring fist. Scarlet sprays. Mr. Banjo slumps, and slugger Charles spills him onto the floor.
"One down, nine to go," notes matter-of-fact Mid-Nite. He knows that nine churls against six champions still isn't very good.
Nearby, Nyola, Oggar the Accursed, and Mr. Mind gang-up on Spectre. Snared by sinister sorcery, the Spirit of Vengeance snarls viscerally like a lion hubristically held betwixt three vain boobs. Ersatz "gods" grind their teeth, scream, strain. Unbeknown to Mid-Nite, they already feel the drain of summoning seven more Monsters of Evil and of attacking via universal elements and indentured annelids. So, when Spectre summons nigh endless reserve, those who would shackle his puissance might as well spar with wildfire. Thus, Priest Oggar's upraised hands commence excruciatingly smoking. Similarly, Nyota's palm skin also starts to sear and split.
Normally sympathetic, Dr. McNider does not feel too sorry for the progressively sooty sots. He surveys the room's other skirmishes such as Flash and Oom the Mighty. The speedster skips circles about the prodigious pug-ugly who pointlessly—and perhaps painfully—punches solid floor each time he swings. Knuckles crack as they quake concrete. Interestingly enough, Oom's enormity increases with his anger. The madder he gets, the more massive he gets, so the cella ceiling could strike his head soon. Or, he could clownishly crash through it. Either way, a concussion could be keen and good.
Over yon, Wonder Woman wrestles both Ibac and the Dummy. The Dummy is simply stupid for assailing her. He can only hope to be a distraction. Ibac, on the other hand, isn't too shabby at slugging and slamming the awesome Amazon around. That is actually not a great surprise. Unbeknown to Mid-Nite, Ibac is a Shazam simulacrum, a near equal.
As mentioned, the Astral Avenger opposes Mr. Atom—occasionally unsuccessfully. Although, at the moment, Starman manages magnificent counterattack. The big robot releases a concentrated atomic burst—capable of disintegrating beings. Amazingly, Knight's incredible implement, the Gravity Rod, entirely absorbs the immense energy and reissues it in almost equal force. The bolt bops Mr. Atom's head off! The decollated dome does an arc across the area until the head—resembling a warhead—heartily hits the ground. Fortunately, it does not explode.
Unfortunately, Mr. Who sneaks-up on Starman and knocks him in the head too. Stunned Ted takes a knee. Then, Mr. Atom automatically summons his top back to him, for it is a devious device capable of dramatic detachment. In a different dimension, Mr. Atom often fires it at Bulletman and that world's mightiest mortals.
Over yon, Diana forcefully uppercuts Dummy and knocks a knucklehead across Aphrodite's naos. The three-foot fink sails forty feet. His faux flesh—wood—sprinkles in splinters as he goes. His half-shattered "mahogany" mug lands just left of Charles, who half-expects Dummy to cartoonishly turn into piled kindling. The living log seems leveled for a loop (with the knots knocked out of him). So, the Master of Darkness turns attention toward the chamber's last fight.
Phantom Lady stands frozen before some scaly scoundrel staring her down. Set in the sight of the Evil Eye, she slobbers (slack-jawed) sans movement, her half-raised ray weapon rigid in her right hand. The Evil Eye is a stereotypical troglodyte in trousers. He is shirtless with sickly-green, depilous, scaly skin. Like a mesmerist, the creepy cyclopean (actually, one eye is kept shut tight) keeps supermen and women in his hypnotic hold tacitly threatening to do them harm. Licking liverish lips, the Evil Eye shuffles toward transfixed Sandra Knight like Albert Dekker in that one 1940 movie.
Luckily, Charles McNider, in truth, lacks sight. The Master of Darkness is blind, so he is Sandy's perfect unseeing savior. He simply shuts his eyes, extends his finger, and strides forward. Then, his digit pops Evil Eye fiercely in the damn peeper!
"Ow! Fuuudge!" croaks the crumb-bum caressing the insulted oversized orb.
Liberated, Phantom Lady makes two fists. One immediately impacts Eye's nose. The other clasps her black "light" tight. She commences to smite, like a cave-wight, despite her weapon's elegance. Rather, she rapidly and repeatedly clubs a contemplable creature on the coconut.
Charles cracks a smile, "Three down, seven to go."
Then, dazed Dummy gets up in his dilapidated condition. From his jacket, the diminutive dastard draws a Derringer and directs it at Dr. Mid-Nite. Nodding and swaying, dizzy Dummy now seems semi-shellacked. His hand shakes, and his wood rattles. His first shot goes utterly astray. Doc dodges, ducks, dashes toward Dummy danger. Then, he decks, boosts, and dropkicks Vigilante's ventriloquist doll arch-foe out the temple. Thud! The Dummy obstinately arises again. But, then timber. He's flat.
"Now, three down, seven to go," grants Charles.
Gleaming goggles look to aid other heroes. Flash cyclonically crashes Mighty Oom through the ceiling, so the Crimson Comet is okay. Like a headless telamon, towering trapped titan throws a tantrum.
Charles' chin turns. He spots Starman still pressed for support. The swarthy swashbuckler sprints to help. While charging ahead, Charles prudently checks his weapon pouches, and he need pout slightly. Only one blackout bomb remains! The initial barrage, upon entering the Aphrodisias, exhausted his supply. Ergo, he may only obscure one more anything one more time. Although, his medical kit (decently stocked) contains ammonia capsules, "smelling salts". They could prove useful.
Foremost, though, there is always people power instead of fancy innovation. Sailing through the air, Dr. Mid-Nite simply delivers a flying sidekick. It shatters Mr. Who's spectacles, and the startled lummox howls. Ironically, his sight seems unhindered by either glass shards or astigmatism (perhaps, the lenses are for show). Who hauls-off to hit Mid-Nite back.
But, Starman suddenly and smartly sprains Who's wrist before the woeful blow. Great gravity snares the high hand and snaps the extremity down sharply such that ligaments lash left fist lower than sinister forearm. Supervillain squalls.
"Eat ammonia," Mid-Nite casts the capsules down bad guy's gullet.
Surgeon McNider is no sadist. He would never vitriol the average opponent. But, he figures that a strapping Monster may have a strong stomach, so his astringent attack likely just disables another enhanced evil-doer. In Mid-Nite's mind, "four down, six to go".
Abruptly, angry Mr. Atom grabs one hero in each hand, hefts them, and rams them against the temple wall. Rattled, Ted drops the Gravity Rod—again. He really needs a way to remotely retrieve that thing like Brainwave would. With animosity, automaton Atom pins the pair and painfully presses precious air from their anatomies. Their lungs arrest, and their ribs bow beneath wide robotic mitts.
Phantom Lady rushes in to rescue the boys. Her Black Light Ray blinds Mr. Atom and, hopefully, baffles him a bit. Knight attempts bodily battle. She bounds on the big 'bot's back and beams optical obfuscation. With the other hand, she bludgeons Atom brutally with a blackjack. He still will not abate from crushing her cousin and her colleague. Sandy gets her gun and tries bullets—which bounce off. Suddenly, she spots Starman's staff on the floor. She sets to flip herself smoothly backwards, snatch the spiffy baton, and bring it to Ted.
However, abruptly, Atom's "onion" rotates completely around and looks into Phantom Lady's face from inches away. Irradiated illumination flashes full in her face from visor to cornea to cones to visual cortex. Only Sandy's extraordinary optical wear spares her permanent sightlessness.
Then, the sentient bomb shrugs and brusquely sends Sandy from his back.
Next, Flash rushes in, but a counter-flash blinds him too.
However, it does not hinder Garrick before he grabs McNider and Knight from under pressing palms such as a prestidigitator pops a spread tablecloth from beneath set dishes. Check the physics. In a flick, fast movement fabulously overcomes friction and can free superfriends or flaxen sheets. And, the Crimson Comet can do this trick with his eyes closed—or spangled—as the case may be. Doc croaks that Ted and he are grateful to avoid cursed costochondritis and crush injuries.
Beyond this conflict, Oom dislodges himself from the ceiling by shrinking slightly slimmer. His soles tag tile, and he descends a smidge shorter to stand seventeen-feet. In his vicinity, he views groping Phantom Lady fumbling about and gives a vile smile.
Oom scoops-up vulnerable Sandra like an object of affection. To her credit, she sharply kicks him several times. He chortles amused and eyes the altar before Aphrodite's image a bit away. Ambling to it, Oom imagines sacrificing Sandy upon it. He would love that. The term "serial killer" does not exist yet in 1948, but that is what awful extraterrestrial ogre Oom is. As Venus-Aphrodite loves everyone, the Mighty relishes ritual eviscerations and other mortal atrocities on a regular basis.
Beyond Sandy's seamy scene, Wonder Woman and Ibac slap each other around. Ibac grows exhausted, and Wonder Woman grows weary. However, neither heavyweight has had quite enough. Each acquires objects to aid their enmity. Ibac hauls two hanging oil lamps with their tethers and twirls them in deleterious display. He hurls them at Hera's heroine. But, Diana harmlessly deflects one into an adjacent pool (possibly there for orgies in Aphrodite's abode). And, she nimbly snatches the other from mid-air. That flaming missile returns to Ibac. Although, all he does is catch it, chug the conflagrant contents, and spit flame forth like a fire-eater. Unimpressed with the abominable freak, Wonder Woman cracks-off a water cock providing the pool and casts that iron at Ibac. Pelting votive coins in turn accompany it. Then, the champion charges, fractures free an entire support column, and swings to conk supervillain with it. Or, she at least plans to. Most impressively, Ibac punches the incoming column and instantly demolishes it. In passing, each fighter eyes expansive beds adjacent their altercation area. They could attempt fierce pillow fighting, but it would be likely as ineffective as inanely snapping sheets at "invincible" exteriors.
The brute beats his hairy chest and bounds back into a mano a mano brawl. His flying headbutt comes fast—although Themysciran tiara does fissure his forehead. Greco-Roman gam grappling takes Diana down. Then, yahoo Ibac yanks her back upright by the tresses. Swiftly, he slugs her all the way to slug Mr. Mind and his sordid duo aggrieving the Ghostly Guardian.
"Hey, Ibac, get Flash. He's blind too," instructs Oom from at the altar. Prone, pretty Knight knees and slaps the Mighty perpetually and petulantly. Goddess Venus, with granite gaze, looks on with apparent disapproval.
Ibac is almost Shazam, so he sort of has the speed of Mercury. He commences chasing Jay who jukes about, hoping not to run into stuff.
Before suspended Spectre, Wonder Woman sits starry, as her shorts, a wee moment. Even an Amazon has only so much endurance and resilience. As Wonder rallies, the Wickedest Worm in the World watches her woe. And, he cannot resist. Like every "stupid" supervillain ever, Mr. Mind must gloat when he should assiduously advance his evil plan. Diverting mental energy, the little devil balefully delivers increased eldritch load upon Oggar and Nyota. Miserably, the moiling, sweaty sorcerers moan and suffer as their control wanes over wan Righteous Revenge, raging against their restraint. Nyota's nose releases red blood. Oggar's ears do the same. Electric agony interpolates their flesh from marrow to mane.
The egotistical grubby idiot utters, "Let all you interloping louses know that the Universe shall have a new order! I, Mr. Mind, shall steal not only the sum power of the supreme Spectre but also Venus' entire sphere! Not only here, on this earthen orb, but also Aphrodite's sphere of influence throughout eternity, entirety, and Olympus! First, Oggar the Accursed, Nyota the Aztec Elemental, and (most of all) I shall funnel Aztar's almost infinite energies and agency into ME! And, we shall tap the goddess' genius loci to do it! The Monster Society has made the markings and summoned the necessary supernatural elements, sorcerous and psionic! We need only spew the spell's words!"
"Do it soon!" exasperated Nyota nears accidental defecation.
In tinny tenor, the tiny tin tyrant's talk box blares, "All know that Love triumphs over Vengeance!"
"Hey, that is not quite true in Old Testament terms!" shouts saucy Sandy, knowing her Scripture. She can hear Mind yelling all the way over on the altar—where scantily-clad she continues to oppose stereotypical savage sacrifice.
Wonder Woman stands and fixes her outfit while politely paying attention to the pompous evil-doer.
The megalomaniac mite blusters, "Beware all of existence! Once the Monster Society of Evil acquires Aztar's angelic acumen, it shall swiftly steal Venus' vast vitality, in turn, using Vengeance's very virility. I shall be the all-powerful viscount of the solar system from Sol to Pluto until I progressively plunder all of reality! Already, I, Mr. Mind, am the monarch of the Morning Star, not Desira, and the new numen of this naos, not Desire herself!"
Demigod Diana guffaws at the gall. "Oh, shut up, you grub who would be a goddess. To Hades with you!" the decorous Amazon unleashes her Magic Lasso.
From twenty feet away, she manages to lash a six-inch levitating a-hole. Briefly, Mind loudly laments like a larruped brat. And, his psychical concentration completely ceases. His coercive conscience control catastrophically fails as the viscous Venusian cries like a corrected little snot. The quintessential containment of Spectre quells by a third or more.
Roman (deity) Vulcan's magma has more mercy than the Spirit of Vengeance so enraged. Suspended Spectre bolts erect from his floating, flat position, and the phantasmal feedback breaks all four of Oggar and Nyota's hands. Then, Justice (or savage retribution) is swift and serves upon sinners macabre miracles. Successively, Spectre strikes down the Monster Society in short order. Transmundanely, the Spirit strips off the sigil besmirching the Cytherean shrine's floor and sticks forth an accusing finger upon miscreant Mr. Mind, upon his pedestal. Violently, Vengeance's digit strokes the air, and the sigil scourges itself—at smaller size—into a grave sinner's midsection, exposing the underlying worm meat. Mr. Mind moans under the control symbol's mystic enslavement.
"Stay, dog," dictates Holy Wrath, "I shall punish you in full last."
Spectre pivots upon perverse priestess Nyola. Perpetually pervicacious, perhaps by "the power of women", Nyola the Elemental opposes Spectre once more when she raises the earth, through the floor, into a little barrier. The shaky, squat bulwark, built of sand, somewhat reaches Wrath's shorts. He sneers. Unmercifully, he releases the other elements onto Nyota. First, fire ignites all over her. It devours and desiccates her to charred caricature. Then, the Ghostly Guardian's glove gushes a watery torrent that blasts off her flesh and fractures her skeleton, forming sludge. Finally, fierce winds dry the sludge fleetly and deliver Nyola's dust out the deity's dwelling and onto planet Venus.
Vengeance veers to view odious Oggar vehemently. Spectre manifests a swift sword and slices Oggar's head off. He orders the immortal to leave with his head in his hurting hands. Horribly humbled, the Accursed does so.
Next, Spectre stares daggers at dolt Mr. Who, who swallows hard—despite a sore throat. Spectre simply snaps his fingers. Mr. Who disappears for who knows where. (Okay, it's Uranus).
The Ghostly Guardian gives Mr. Atom radiation poisoning. In agony, the evil android unbelievably experiences the effects of rabid rems racking his body resulting in rapid aches, nausea, seizures, scalp loss, pep paucity, and an unforgiving fever like nuclear fission. These fleshy symptoms are unnatural in an artificial abomination. Spasming, Mr. Atom rests his active uranium insides and clammy steel outside on the floor.
Oom is Spectre's subsequent victim. The Spirit of Vengeance approaches his old foe. The Mighty minces his teeth and tensely mills in place. He knows that he cannot manage to both ritually murder Phantom Lady, mashed beneath his mammoth mitt, and set to Spectre in mortal melee simultaneously. So, he hastily snaps hostage heroine free from her hemp and slings her aside. Standing straight, maniacal madness in his mien, Oom the Mighty challenges consequences' champion.
"Hmph," unimpressed Spectre snorts and crosses his arms. He eyes the immense, important alabaster image of pulchritude, passion, endearment, order, and affection overlooking pathetic Oom.
The Ghostly Guardian does not actually summon the Greek goddess, but he does animate Aphrodite's art awfully. Suddenly (seemingly) alive, the big statue seizes Oom, as he did Sandra. She hauls him forcefully to her. From behind, the colossus hugs his hips as the Mighty kicks empty space and makes protest. Cytherea squeezes her prize passionately until his person figuratively pops. She kisses and nibbles her catch so vehemently that carnage and blood bespeckle the naos. In her vise, her vitiating overlong tongue vexatiously visits Oom's vulnerable ear and neck vertebrae. Then, venerated Venus impacts Oom upon her altar, spears stiff phallanges through fleshy vest, violating him, and rips out the sacrificial victim's heart like a Valentine, vitally vanquishing him. Apparently no vegetarian, the golem voraciously then eats crudely acquired item.
Only Ibac remains—other than Mr. Mind. The Monster Societarian makes a brave show. Spectre strides over, and Ibac immodestly spits to the side. The dastard smiles defiantly—and insecurely—into the phantom, frightful face. He solicits a full-on fight, for Ibac figures that he almost has the impressive powers of Shazam. "Come on! Strike me, you sonofa . . ." is the shout.
However, the grim Ghostly Guardian just slaps a glove onto the aggrandized goon's brow and casually ogles him. Curiously, Ibac only gasps heavily and stands still in the stringent grip, both psychic and physical. For his part, Spectre also practices pacific poise like a pastor touching a transgressor.
Tacitly, the planted palm probes the sinner's psyche so that Spectre knows Ibac's deepest secrets. "Satan, you shall leave this man" is the pronouncement of God's Wrath. So, he purges demonic pestilence, seeds dear notions, and "neuters" a proud, petulant person and pagan—before punishing him so that Ibac might repent, ponder, and prosper. Apparently, helpful purgatory exists in a pleasant hand. Praise be. . . . .
Semi-recovered and ever resilient, fellow Justice Society members congregate around Spectre. They suppress anger toward Ibac for recent abuses. Their Amazon and each of them assess the situation. They should either attack an Evil Monsters to finish him or mercifully restrain unsettling avenger Spectre. The heroes are undecided.
Unfortunately, others will never know Dr. Mid-Nite and chums' eventual decision, for they get no chance to duly deliberate. Instead, the Ghostly Guardian tricks them—and Ibac. Just now, Aztar miraculously enervated Ibac in an instant back to pathetic Stanley "Stinky" Printwhistle, his alter ego. The angel unreservedly announced "Satan, you shall leave this man", and the ejaculation sent evil infusion into the ether. Awhile back, punk Printwhistle petitioned the Prince of Darkness for power so as to pound pure-hearted Shazam to a pulp. The Adversary agreed, and that obscene arrangement created Ibac. The ignoble Stinky stands shrunken and impotent now. His big britches and boots don't even fit nicely.
However, dip-"Schmidt" doesn't know such. Spectre has instilled an instructive illusion in Stanley's psyche so that poor Printwhistle might reap what he has sown. Thus, a stinking numbskull distinctly imagines that he is still strong and "invincible" like Ibac. The oaf is unaware that he is objectively altered anatomically and in his incredible abilities.
Interestingly enough, the Justice Society is also hornswoggled. JSAers just see ominous Ibac yet standing there. Spectre made sure of that. Ignoring a fiendish fool further, Vengeance flits away—toward vermicular vermin—on the vapors.
Thus, pretentious Printwhistle pipes, "Hey, JSA jerks! I see that I'm the last supervillain standing! Which is outstanding! 'Cause, now, I'll take you all on and brag about it later!"
The Justice Society whup him like a rented mule. Dr. Mid-Nite decks him hard. Phantom Lady delivers a flying elbow. Flash flogs him with gonfalon fabrics. Starman shoots Stan to the ceiling and unsparingly skips "Ibac" along. Wonder Woman lassos him down, lands a devastating punch, lunges into another, and levels him with a whirling roundhouse. Mid-Nite concludes the clobbering with crisp Queensberry combinations.
One chain away, the Spirit of Vengeance crossly swats pest Mr. Mind from his pedestal. The puny psychopath tags the tile. Truculent Aztar taps a hallux toe upon the little hellion. He judiciously applies just enough painful pressure to make Mind's eyes bug. Spectre could shoot sunlight optically and, thereby, immediately wizen the worm. But, this gradual corrective crushing is more agreeable to the Ghostly Guardian. Purposefully, a declining digit presses as a Puritan would a witch or a press would a grape.
"Grovel, grub!" adjures the avenging angel.
"Mr. Mind is never on his knees," notes the narcissist, "The Wickedest Worm crawls for no one."
With gloom and doom, the Ghostly Guardian gifts gravity gratuitously by aggregate. Aggrieved, the green miscreant gobs gut matter. Growling, Spectre grinds Mind agonizingly against the gritty ground, ignoring all plaintive grousing. This notch of gnash incidentally skins the sigil from Mind's middle, and his affected abdomen glosses gory grime, from his affected person, upon the shrine's fine Grecian floor. The lowlife's girth gruesomely gives, and greasy gunk issues organs grossly forth in oleaginous gel.
His eye gleam nearly gone, his gizzard gurgling, Mr. Mind recalcitrantly wrestles to recoup himself. With waning consciousness and weeping carcass, the Whole Universe's Wickedest Worm reviews the runes that Nyota and Oggar gouged over the ground. Gleaned from Gaia, the graphs originate from Earth's country Kahndaq, in a temple committed to a different ancient entity antecedent even Olympians. Though armless and nearly harmless, the mastermind may yet have something up his sleeve.
Spectre surveys the semi-mashed and half-manifest mite under his shoe. The small medium manages no mighty mind control or telekinetic manipulation or any metaphysical tricks. He is merely motionless and mawkishly maimed.
Wrath wonders, "Any last words?"
"Yeah," spits the spiteful, sneaky, slimy, slick slug, "Shazam!"
Suddenly, the air and earth explode. Magic lightning strikes through the temple ceiling and Spectre's torso—and firm foot. A flaming hole perforates the grave hero's person. Accompanying it, another ignited aperture smolders through his shoe. Under the foot, a sizable and strange sort of thing sits for a second. Then, it veers angrily upward like a surly, disturbed snake, which a certain slug now resembles. Spectre spills backward in temporary shock.
In contrast, the lightning bolt has startled the Justice Society to their senses. They blink liberally, for a smashed-up Stanley lies splayed in unsettling shape on the cella stone. Aw s***! What happened?
Suddenly, a streaking cestoid shape swirls around the chamber's ornate ceiling. Duo Diana and Jay can actually discern the velocious vermicular viper, for their enhanced vision views quick objects quite ably. Each reacts "Hera" and "Ho boy".
You see, Mr. Mind momentarily has the powers of Shazam. And, he intends to impressively use them upon the impudent JSA, the jokers who have jived his evil plans. He judges that each entreated entity offers him apt amazing ability against each avenger. (Sometimes, the Shazam acronym stands for different gods and legends, as it does for Black Adam and others; however, Mind has usurped those of Captain Marvel).
The speed of Mercury matches Flash's fleetness nigh fully. The missile Mind divebombs and drops Flash flat before Jay can dodge as though Mind is Flash's fast foil now.
Then, the Promethean Purloiner of Paragons' Properties promptly pivots and pursues a sucker-punch. Spinning, a fifty-centimeter celadon super-pickle swipes its terrible tail. The strength of Hercules swats Dr. Mid-Nite like a Brooklyn Dodgers slugger. The Master of Darkness sails from sight. Only extraordinary acrobatic ability spares McNider a mortal outcome when impacting beyond the naos.
Wonder Woman nimbly nabs the nascent titan by the tail. She starts to scold the audacious slug. In response, the ersatz Shazam unleashes the power of Zeus, and unchecked voltage surges through the Themysciran champion for the second time today. Electricity "corrects" the Princess of Power as the Queen Kriglo or the king of the gods could. It spectacularly straightens her hair, her spine, and her out (i.e. straightens her out). Diana drops prone.
The courage of Achilles motivates the Mind Marvel in regard to Phantom Lady, for it offers him a certain gall. Shall he have the audacity to treat her as Oom the Mighty just did? Nah. He but has the gall to simply ignore her. What the hell is she going to do against a "god"? (Although, in common myth, many gods and monsters find out just what wee guys and gals can do).
Perhaps unwise with one Knight, the Wicked Worm lets the wisdom of Solomon steer him with the other. Rising aloft, Starman targets the tilting troublemaker. Tremendous gravity should take the biggity grub to the temple terrain. In theory, ol' icky "Icarus" will encounter ingenious, impeccable innovation. However, the super-slug anticipates every forceful field fast thrown, for Mind's enhanced mind can outdo the Astral Man's intellect. By Solomonic strategic cerebration, and the Power of Shazam, the whizzing worm evades aggressive apprehension, and Starman cannot seize his shrewd adversary.
Abruptly, Starman simply shoots plasm pulses in a willy-nilly swath. Something should hit. However, Mr. Mind reckons the seemingly random barrage, and bolts riddle the temple roof instead of wily reprobate. Locally razed, the wreckage falls, and dangerous debris drops. Starman is utterly occupied using anti-gravity to spare Justice Societarians below.
Gleefully, volatile and volant Mr. Mind goes great guns, grazes the good guy hard, and giggles "hee-hee". Haughtily, the helminthic hands it to himself. He could have gored through Starman, but the Shazam-hybrid generously did not. Seemingly, no self-respecting supervillain ever just kills a hero when given the chance. Mania must muss their astute murderous instincts into sadistic activity and self-amusement. They interminably think that they will toy with their targets until next Tuesday or until their anti-social temptations be tuckered. The trope truly trumps tactical wit.
Mr. Mind descends to Spectre's vicinity. Certainly, the stamina of Atlas should serve him well when reengaging Almighty Wrath. Already, Aztar has regenerated wholly from the holes in his holy chest and chock, and he looks as chafed and cheerless as ever. He appears as empowered as ever too—assessing his angry aureole, ambient auroral energies, and enlarged anatomy. Enhanced evil alights before belligerent equity, and it rears like a serpent to challenge the JSA's champion of champions (besides Superman, Wonder Woman, Wildcat, Atom, or any other member embodying actual justice). The Spirit of Vengeance stares down the lowly leech who is so insolent as to suckle Venus' vast and vital victuals and so obscene as to acquire Aphrodite's abode for bellicose purposes.
The Spectre solemnly speaks, "You have been a thorn in my side today, avaricious vermin. Thrice have you stifled your sanctified slaughter, sending you to the cellars of Stygia. Half of six times have you inconceivably survived the avowed Angel of Vengeance, Aztar. Indeed, I ventured to Venus to crush Kriglo Martians, vain crooks and would-be conquerors, yet conflict with you has constantly commandeered me like a clarty cobweb. However, I assure you, contemptible creature, I shall currently kill you. Nothing will conserve you. You are now clew-less, so no collective can kidnap me. Your Monster Society comrades are quashed and kaput. And, your freshly-acquired capabilities—crassly stolen from Earth-S—cannot stop the Spectre, for I could chew-up Captain, Mary, Junior, and Hoppy and then crap thunder like a faucet. Your fate is at hand."
Mr. Mind hisses in response. He coils to hurl himself at the holier-than-thou homicidal maniac. The serpent strikes, Herculean strength matched with Mercurial speed. However, Spectre hastily swipes his hand. The charger snaps straight—and slams his chin into the solid floor. Behind Mind, the marble has liquified and reset in a centisecond. So, pseudo-Shazam has his tail suddenly trapped.
Then, Spectre seizes the indecent psychic telekinetically and tips him upward, extended terribly taut. A titan's stamina, such as Atlas', doesn't spare Mind some strain and pain. Tetchy telepathy threatens "you will be taught humility before termination". Promptly, tortuous torturous movement tosses the trespasser with terrific torque at great tempo. Like in a Tex Avery cartoon, when Droopy destroys a lout, the Discarnate Draconian forcefully flips a bully back and forth, fracturing the ground. The immediate quadrant cracks into offbeat cobblestone, and the earth quakes with Mind's brutal quelling. Contusions cumulatively form from the tenacious thrashing.
Encircling Spectre, the harried Justice Society reassembles. Hazy Wonder Woman leans on Phantom Lady. Flash helps hurt Dr. Mid-Nite, nursing broken ribs. Starman has successfully slung debris to the side. The heroes behold the harsh beating and consider controlling the castigation. Holy Wrath really claps Mr. Mind like a cuckoo church bell. Holy s***!
Unexpectedly, cranky and battered bug Mind blasts a Jovian bolt out his butt. And, he fiercely flies at his foe. Spectre stops the whizzing worm with a single jarring jab and nabs him about the neck. A strong stranglehold cinches about an adamantine throat, thewy and tough as Hercules'. Spectre slugs the spectacular slug in the schnoz, and the scoundrel goes slack. Sighing, the Spirit of Vengeance still seeks to squish the snollygoster beneath his shoe. The intended image makes the most example of Mr. Mind, for it best illustrates an angel's power over the small. Thus, Spectre schemes a smidge.
"Say, grub, whose gifts did you steal again?" asks Aztar.
"Why, of SHA . . .," Mr. Mind stops, "Ha! Nice try!"
"Well, don't claim that I have no sense of humor," smirks Spectre. The Spirit's ceaseless strength should suffice to split, sever, and shred quasi-Shazam if Consummate Wrath concentrates well.
Bloody and bleary-eyed, the woozy worm wonders, "Say, Spectre, are you wearing a watch?"
"No. Why?"
"That's all right," replies wide wry rictus, "Thaddeus has some nice timepieces that I gave him."
Suddenly, a scintillating circle, seven feet in radius, surrounds Spectre and Mr. Mind on the stone stylobate. An open space appears under mint-colored moccasins. Out of the ebon abyss, a spry mad scientist springs. Call him Sivana.