Korg Journeys Into Mystery
By Rob Morris
2018, WHAT WAS ONCE THE OUTSKIRTS OF ASGARDIAN SPACE, THE GIMLE' ARK OF THE AESIR WANDERERS
At first, the wanderers had been leery of King Thor's stone man companion, called Korg. His seemingly humorous take on the final explosion of the realm eternal had understandably put them off. But Thor vouched for his Kronan friend, and one by one, they all learned that his mentality made the awkward statement one of simply stating a sad fact without filters.
Then, they all learned that Korg was a storyteller, and surely a storyteller would help pass the time for the survivors of nothing less than Ragnarok itself.
"So myself and a crew of fellow Kronans were assigned to do mischief on a local world a lot like your Midgard, or Earth…well, that went all kinds of wrong, let me tell you…"
The wanderers would come to regret these stories.
YEARS EARLIER, KORBIN IV
Korg kept his doubts about this incursion to himself – they tended to get ignored or derided anyway, so he just listened to his brutish cousins 'whip out their density measures' as his aunt liked to say.
"See me, kinsmen! I pull this plant-thing out of the ground with no effort on this low-gravity world!"
Korg mused to himself that Tucerls was fortunate that tree wasn't a resting Groot. They hated when you did that.
"Ha, well done, cousin! Now watch as I, Darumph, treat the height of this nearby hill as a joke of science! Because of the atmosphere, I leap to it with no effort, and as to the leap from it, my stone body is invulnerable. Nothing on this puny planet can harm…"
2018
Korg shook his head.
"Well, old Darumph, he hit the ground, forgetting that mass plus acceleration plus the hardness of that patch of ground…oooh. Not pretty. I think I still have a chunk of him lodged in me somewhere. Pretty much pulverized entirely."
Hulk was at first engaged by this talk of a violent end, but it was just too sudden and anticlimactic.
"So…how did the rest of the invasion go?"
Korg nodded.
"Well, as it turned out, Korbin IV was the home of Korbinites, and their Cyborg Equine Force – you might have seen one of them on the champions' relief back on Sakaar. They had maces, a lot like our friend's hammer, and they smashed everyone else. Poor Tucerls was about to make a war-boast when he took five of them in the kisser. Me, they warned to leave and tell my people not to trifle with them. I just went back and said we all got drunk and lost. Turns out our assignment was all bollocks on Darumph's part, so they bought it. Next, I will tell of my cousin we called 'The Living Wall' and how he decided that the judges in a major sporting event were all corrupt-victim of a cement replicator accident, he was…"
Loki turned to Thor as the Hulk got up, claiming to need to replicate purple stretch pants, which Thor knew for a fact he hated.
"Brother – he's depressing everyone so much, they're turning to me – and they wanted to kill me not long ago!"
Thor thought quickly.
"Loki – you must follow my lead. Use your ability to read freely exchanged thoughts. I'll have no barriers."
This was a rarely used talent of Loki's, and best if used on someone he knew very well, but would do anything to stop Korg's parade of shaggy wolf tales.
Thor began.
"Now, you must understand first of all – That the players on the St. Louis baseball team have some very unusual names – Who's On First, What's On Second, I Don't Know On Third. Any questions?"
Loki nodded.
"Yes – who's on first?"
"Precisely!"
The two kept on, working their way through many a routine, and eventually forcing Korg to a savage realization.
"No one wants to hear my stories."
Korg would try and corner some listeners as the trip went on, but mercifully, a mad Titan seeking partial universal omnicide invaded them, killing many and scattering the others.
FIVE YEARS LATER, UPSTATE NEW YORK
Thor's metal-suited friend had saved them all, at great cost. Korg was there to show his respects – and tell stories of the metal-suit's bravery. Since he knew little of that past the great battle, where they had all just been, he began to rely on old standbys, till once more his old dilemma kicked in.
"Guy talks too much", said Peter Parker as he went to speak to an unofficial 'little sister' about how awesome her Dad was. But Korg didn't feel awesome.
"Once more, no one wants to hear my stories."
But a voice came from behind him.
"I like your stories. They are filled with viscera and pushing ahead, regardless of what others say. I find them compelling and inspiring."
Korg turned around, smiling at his new fan.
"Thank You, friend. I am called Korg of Kronus."
The green-skin who was not Hulk but who was rather large shook hands with him.
"A pleasure, Korg of Kronus – I am called Drax."
A bond was forged that sad day between poor storyteller and poor comprehender, and perhaps one day, they would make stories of their own.
Or Not.