"Our greatest fears have come to pass, my friends. The CIA has intercepted the delivery of our collection of Looney Tunes PEZ Dispensers to the battlefront. Without them, the Chosen One will not be able to recover. It is now up to us to save the world from the werehyena horde." - Radomir Putnik, circa 1855
Holiday Island
April Fools Day was feeling super bummed. It was his birthday, but no other holiday in the high school seemed to have bothered to remember, not even his own best friend. Ever since Gooseberry Shrub Worshipping Day had started dating Independence Day of the Argentine Republic, April Fools Day had become a total third wheel. He glumly looked into the cafeteria through a window and saw that Gooseberry Shrub Worshipping Day and Independence Day of the Argentine Republic were feeding each other falafel.
"Oh, Independence Day of the Argentine Republic, I cannot wait to taste this chickpea heavy dish known as falafel when our tongues coil together like sexy strands of yarn…" Gooseberry Shrub Worshipping Day seductively purred like he was an anthropomorphic ocelot lothario.
"Mmmmmm! Mmmmmm!" Independence Day of the Argentine moaned in pleasure while swallowing a huge mouthful. "I await tasting it a second time over via your mouth as well, my darling Gooseberry Shrub Worshipping Day!"
In a nearby corner of the cafeteria, International Falafel Day chuckled sinisterly while wringing his hands.
"Yes, foolish young lovers, eat the falafel," he flashed a wicked toothy smile. "None have yet to suspect that I, International Falafel Day, used insidious methods to brainwash Gooseberry Shrub Worshipping Day and Independence Day of the Argentine Republic to develop a shared enjoyment for the taste of fried chickpeas. Now they will eat all the falafel I offer to them, thus allowing me to further spread my dark influence to my fellow holiday personifications! Once my ride to power is complete, all of humanity shall dine upon falafel and despair, starting with the people of Lawndale!"
International Falafel Day bursted into a dramatic evil laugh so loud that even April Fools Day could hear it outside through the shut window. Despite this, the two lovers paid no mind to it and cuddled while whispering sweet nothings to each other about chickpea scented farts. April Fool's Day couldn't stand to watch this anymore and stomped away in a huff.
"This is the worst birthday I've had in ages!" April Fools Day bewailed as he kicked up sand. "If even my best friend doesn't care enough to wish me a happy birthday, then I doubt anyone here on Holiday Island does!"
He climbed onto a boulder near the shore of the island and began to play a somber tune on his kazoo. A tear rolled down his cheek, and—
"Can kazoos and crying really mix? They can when a boy's birthday is forgotten, next on 'Sick, Sad World'!" a voice boomed.
April Fools Day looked up to see that he was no longer alone. A figure was standing on the surface of the ocean water itself, only roughly a couple feet away from the shoreline. The figure had the body of an adult man, but a bulbous oversized head with not even a single hair on it. He wore white and dark blue robes with a tall color and golden jewelry.
"What in the world…?" April Fools Day stood up.
The figure came closer and the anthropomorphized holiday gasped when he saw the man's eyes. His right eye was a solid blank white and glowed, while his left eye was fully detailed, having a light blue iris and looking bloodshot. The skin on his face surrounding his left eye had an expanding bullseye pattern alternating between two different shades of green. Compared to the rest of the being's skin, it almost looked like some kind of infection spreading across the left side of his face.
"What holiday are you supposed to be?" April Fools Day asked, unable to hide his staring.
"I am no holiday like you and your schoolmates, April Fools Day, but I suspect a part of you already knew that," the strange figure spoke. "I am Ziik Zaad Morldi, a Watcher…or at least my mother was. I'm not quite sure what she laid with to make me born with my deformity here," he gestured at the left side of his face. "But it matters not, for I have come here for you, my boy!"
"You have? But why, what for? " April Fools Day looked flummoxed.
Ziik Zaad Morldi smiled and waved his hand, causing April Fools Day to levitate over next to him. A green portal resembling the misfit hybrid Watcher formed near them.
"I have chosen you to accompany me to observe a saga both epic and grand," Ziik answered, placing a hand on April Fools Day's shoulder. "Come with me, my boy, and you shall bear witness to the weaving of…the Tugboat Tapestries!"
Earth-6100
Allentown, Pennsylvania
Thanos had been called many things in his lifetime; The Mad Titan, Master of the Black Order, and, in his school days, Most Likely to Start a Fad Diet. Yet ever since he first came to the little planet called Earth, he had gained a new title; Regional Assistant Manager of the Allentown Corporate Office Location of Petruski Family Adhesives Inc. (A Proud Subsidiary of Frost Industries).
"Yes, honey, I'll pick up some milk on my way home," Thanos said over his landline phone, held delicately between two of his massive purple fingers so as to not accidentally crush it. "…What's that? …Okay, I can get a rotisserie chicken too. Anything else before I hang up?" he asked, not wanting to get interrupted again by another call later. "…I don't think the store carries that brand of cornbread mix, honey, but if they don't I'm sure I can find one just as good. I have to go now, bye."
Thanos hung up the phone and leaned back in his swivel chair. The towering alien looked down at the papers on his desk and frowned.
"Damn it, Thanos," he muttered with palpable irritation. "I'm gonna have to re-alphabetize these complaints by last name again. How can there be so many people working here with last names that start with Y? And it's not my fault the standard font makes them look like Vs…"
There was a knock on his office door.
"Who is it?" Thanos asked.
"Hey, it's Lorenzo," a young man said through the door. "Umm…y'know, Lorenzo Spencer? I'm sure we've talked by the water cooler before."
"Come in, Mr. Spencer," Thanos said apathetically. "Have a seat if you want."
"Oh, it's nothing like that," Lorenzo said, opening the door a crack and just popping his head in. "I just wanted to let you know that Edna from the marketing department had to leave early today to pick up her sister-in-law's stepson from his Muay Thai class."
Thanos shot up from his desk and stomped to the door. Lorenzo gulped.
"You couldn't have told me this before she took off?!" Thanos glowered. "Ms. Appleton was supposed to finish preparing the PowerPoint presentation we need to show to Mrs. Petruski on Monday!"
"Don't worry, she finished it before she left," Lorenzo was quick to assure Thanos that everything was fine. "…She even showed it to me. She set it to this instrumental James Taylor song."
"Oh…Sorry for shouting then," Thanos calmed down and tugged at his rubber ducky necktie. "And I'll have to compliment her on that choice. I've heard Mrs. Petruski is a big fan of that musician."
There was an awkward pause between the two.
"Uhh…I'm gonna go to the vending machine. Do you want anything?" Lorenzo offered.
"Thanks, but there's no need," Thanos held up a hand. "My wife packed me a bag lunch today and I already ate. If you'll excuse me, Mr. Spencer, I have to complete something before I leave for the weekend."
Lorenzo shrugged and left. Thanos walked back to his desk and, just as he was about to sit down, his landline rang.
"Hello, this is Thanos speaking," he answered. "Oh, hello again, honey…" he sat down. "…Oh, you found a box of that cornbread mix? Where? …Yeah, I forget to check the pantry too sometimes. Haha…yeah, I'll see you back home. …ugh, yes, honey, I'll remember the milk this time."
Thanos looked at a framed photo on his desk. The woman in it was not his wife, but one of a rather beautiful woman in her mid-twenties who had an eyebrow piercing and a messy bob of hair. She was named Nadeen Hassan, also known as the magical superheroine Glyph. She was no friend to Thanos, and he kept this here to remind himself of his past. Yes, he told himself, one day he would make Hassan suffer for ever summoning the accursed jinn-like spirit who used his ancient magics to compel the Mad Titan to give up everything he had and leave the cosmos behind to instead live an exceedingly mundane life on Earth. This wasn't that day though, but he told himself it wasn't all bad, since at least he'd be having rotisserie chicken that night instead of his wife's truly awful cooking. She makes her so-called tacos with deli sliced roast beef in lieu of ground meat, uses fat free mayonnaise instead of sour cream, and insists everyone always use hard shells instead of flour tortillas because she was under the impression that they were more authentic.
"Oh darn it," Thanos suddenly remembered out of the blue. "I forgot to call the roofer before they closed for the day…"
Earth-611820
The Auralands (formerly known as Aurora, Colorado)
In the shadow of a long fallen building that had since been reclaimed by nature, a large group of thirty-three men had gathered in what was once a high school basketball court. This band of brothers had journeyed many, many days on foot to make the trek to this place, so that they could hopefully bask in the knowledge of the one who had made it his domain, who lounged on a large pile of basketballs that had bonded together due to the fiery rays of the Colorado sun and then, later, cooled under the shivery rays of the Colorado moon. Because that is how science works, I guess.
"Greetings, travelers," said the much sought after wiseman, who brushed some crumbs off his periwinkle poncho. "My my, you are quite a sizable party. Why, you could easily overpower me and take all that I have scavenged for myself."
While the men in the traveling party appeared to be in their late twenties at the youngest and their mid thirties at the eldest, the wiseman looked to be far older, which was emphasized by his long and braided gray beard. The band of like minded men all bowed forward at him respectfully and then smacked their own butts three times.
"Blerpa blerpa!" they bellowed in unison. "Blerpa blerpa!"
The wiseman smiled serenely. The only men in the Auralands permitted to perform this sacred greeting were devoted members of the Solemn Order of Blerpa, also known as the S.O.B.
"We have been sent to seek your wisdom," one of the men, who was broadly built and wore taupe and puce striped long johns, stepped forward to speak for his companions. "I am Booboo Butterbean of the Solemn Order of Blerp, and we know who you are…Xylophone Xenobiotic!"
"Xylophone…" the wiseman smirked. "Not that's a name I haven't heard in years. Not since I saw ultra-pheasants for the first time."
"I heard once, in ages past, that the pheasants were once small creatures, not like the titans that roam the lands today," Booboo Butterbean said. "It is almost impossible for us to comprehend a world where pheasants do not tower over most men or make the ground shake as they walk."
Xylophone Xenobiotic nodded. He was now certain that these boys were born after what had happened to create the realm known as the Auralands.
"You wish to know why your lives are the way they are. Yes, that much is clear…" the wiseman stroked his beard. "But before I tell you the story, I wish to know the names of you all, so that I may ensure that they too don't go unremembered."
"As you wish, good sir," Booboo Butterbean agreed. "My brothers-in-faith, tell him your names!"
Making sure to go one at a time, all of the other thirty-two men then introduced themselves so that their journey wouldn't be for naught. From the one named Jumbotron Jalopy to the one named Giggles Gastroenteritis, they each strode forward to introduce themselves with great vigor. Each one from Habanero Hardpan to Saxophone Snickerdoodle uttered their own names with passion so passionate that Passionfruit Pulsar almost felt inadequate when it was his turn to go after Licorice Latrine's.
"And, lastly, I am known as Dynamite Doodoo!" spoke the thirty-third member of the group.
"Very well, my darling tots," the wiseman said. "I shall regale you with the tale of why our land came to be…"
He tore off his clothes, revealing his naked body to them all. It was covered in tattoos that looked to be of figures riding motorcycles.
"The tale begins in a land far across the sea in a land called…" he paused for dramatic effect. "Napaj! Whoops, I mean…Japan!"
"Ooooooo," McMuffin Mincemeat clapped. "I like Japan because I can project my own opinions on video games onto their population as a whole, at least until one contradicts me online."
"In this land, there was once a girl known only as the Sakura Hane, who attended a mythical high school that let the all-girl students ride motorcycles if they had one. She saw a girl come to the school on one, and so she joined the school motorcycle club and then purchased her own."
"Oh great Xylophone, I ask a question," Blackboard Bassoon raised his foot up into the air. "How many cornflakes did it cost the girl?"
"It did not cost any corn flakes, my boy, for these were the days when corn flakes were not a currency." Xylophone answered.
The men all gasped in shock. The idea that anything other than corn flakes could ever be used as currency was utterly alien to them. They had even made sure to come with a laundry bag practically bursting with corn flakes in case they needed to buy any vital supplies such as toothpaste, blankets, or jarred yak farts on their journey.
"As I was saying, after Sakura Hane decided to join the school's motorcycle club, the members Amano Onsa and Kawasaki Raimu attempted to recruit another girl to the club, Suzunoki Rin, despite disliking her motorcycle and the manufacturer to which she was so loyal…"
"Such ludicrous names, not at all like our normal and dignified ones at all." Jumbotron Jalopy whispered to one of his companions with a judging sneer.
"I know, right? I wouldn't be caught dead with such an embarrassing name as those," the man named Peppercorn Pornography nodded in agreement. "They ain't even alliterative, for Tyrese's sake."
In the grand, not-as-ancient-as-believed tome of holy texts studied by the Solemn Order of Blerp, Tyrese was the name of a man whom they regarded as one of the three demigod sons of their deity known as Blerpa the Blerp. These three sons were collectively referred to as the Blerpuda Triangle. Tyrese was also known as 'He Who Brings Forth Bountiful Harvests of Apricots'. In actuality, the translators of the tome had grossly misinterpreted a passage about a normal guy named Tyrese who had given the author a plump, juicy apricot once.
"But alas, all did not go well," Xylophone frowned and hung his head. "After a clash over their differing tastes, Rin overheard her beloved ride receive praise from Onsa, who called it a bike that was treated with great love by Rin. Just as a touched Rin was about to run up and embrace the two, the awful truth was revealed when Onsa burst out into meanspirited laughter and she and Raimu, unaware that Rin was in earshot, mocked Rin as a fool who would certainly fall for the cruel act of deception which they had just rehearsed."
Booboo Butterbean, ever the manly and hunky hunk of man he was, took this all in with haunted eyes and steely silence. He was sure he had heard some fragments of this legendary tale before, but this was the first time it truly made sense.
"This is where the lies begin," the Wiseman stood up and stretched out his arm to the crowd of men. "Some say that, despite this, Hane's innocent and sweet disposition nevertheless drew Rin into the motorcycle club. They claim they and the other few members went on amusing, wholesome adventures like wandering their oddly desolate and lifeless yet still functional town, celebrating a bizarre festival known as 'Kristoff's Hummus Day' together, humiliate themselves in front of their classmates, and having to avoid the advances of their deeply sexually repressed teacher whenever she got drunk."
That last one caused all of the thirty-three men to do exaggerated double-takes, with the handful of them who had started drinking from their waterskins spitting out what they'd been drinking in shock. They looked pretty disgusted, and clearly had not appreciated that detail.
"Yeah…I don't get the appeal of that part either. Seriously, don't listen to anyone who includes that part," the older man said before clearing his throat and going on. "Let me assure you that all those takes are falsehoods. In truth, upon realizing they had planned to trick her into joining their school club in such a way, Rin brutally murdered the two girls for it and then fled the scene. Hane and the one other member, named Minowa Hijiri, discovered the bodies and were so traumatized that they could never look at a motorcycle the same way again and were put in a mental health facility by their families to help them recover. There the two teenage girls found a rag doll that had once belonged to a former patient named Nakano Chisame. Since she had written her name on it, they treated that as the doll's own name and pretended it was a real girl who they befriended. Eventually, they recovered and were released into the world to live normal lives once again. They became moderately successful immigration lawyers for some reason. As for Suzunoki Rin, the authorities scoured the entire nation for her, but never did find her. It was like she had vanished from the face of the planet. Some say she drove her motorcycle down a road that led to another world. Because of the scandal, their school never let another motorcycle club form ever again."
"Of course!" Booboo Butterbean exclaimed. "And that is how the city of Aurora, Colorado became the Auralands! It all makes perfect sense and needs no further elaboration whatsoever!"
"Precisely, my son." the wiseman smiled warmly. "And now that you younger men can spread this once little known knowledge far and wide, I can at last permit myself to ascend to a higher form…the form that I knew I truly was meant to be all along, deep inside.
Xylophone Xenobiotic began to shine with a warm orange aura and, before the band of brothers' very eyes, transformed a brand new, pristine basketball with a simplistic cartoon face. They all cheered, overjoyed to have witnessed his ascension.
"Hey! Come on, guys!" the basketball said cheerfully with the voice of an excited, friendly little boy. "Don't just stand there! Dribble me! Dribble me!"
And they did, and it was a really fun time for them all. Even the notoriously snippy Hollandaise Hanglider didn't mind having to act as the referee so they could have equal teams. In the distance, a bouquet of mighty pheasants that stood as tall as the woolly mammoths of old grazed upon bountiful moss that grew on the trunk of a mystical tree which stood as tall as the Eiffel Tower. On that tree was a single word carved into its sturdy chocolate brown bark long ago with a blade; That word was 'Bakuon!'.
Earth-1114
Madrid, Spain
The sounds of angry screams and frustrated yelling could be heard coming from the Plaza de Toros de Las Ventas from over a mile away. It didn't take the world's greatest detective to piece together that the bullfight scheduled for that day had not gone as planned. But who was responsible was another story. The two were currently escaping from the largest bullfighting ring in all Spain, scrambling as they got outside of it.
"Sorry, people of Madrid!" a voice nostalgically familiar to many cried out as he ran. "I know it's a tradition for you and all, but this ain't right! Not when the bull is actually a guy who you can talk to!"
It was that oh-so-lovable misfit known as Ambush Bug, who was wearing a traditional matador outfit over his regular, second skin-like green costume that covered even his face. His two yellow, plug-like antennae poked out from small holes in the fluffy black montera.
"You may seem rather crazy, but I appreciate the assistance," said the second man, who was actually the bull itself. "Of course, your entire species seems crazy to me! I have no idea why other members of your species thought I was a mindless beast even when I told them that I'm a police chief!"
To be more specific, he was an African buffalo who not only walked and talked just like a man, but who wore a very American-looking police uniform. Which certainly lined up with how he had introduced himself to Ambush Bug as Chief Bogo of the Zootopia Police Department.
"Don't worry, my new anthropomorphic bovine compadre! We'll find a place to lay low, and then I'll bring you to a friend who I think may be able to get you back to this 'Zootopia' place!" Ambush Bug smiled as the two ran through the streets of Madrid's Salamanca district.
The two looked over their respective shoulders to see a group of several furious looking matadors who were chasing after them on electric scooters. All of them had wanted to be the first matador to ever fight a talking, walking African buffalo instead of a regular steer. The two ducked into an alleyway between buildings.
"Baby, they're preying on you tonight! Hunt you down, eat you alive! Just like animals!" Ambush Bug shouted in a frightened tone, but then cracked a big grin. "I'm quoting a song by a music group called 'Maroon 5'. I don't actually like most of their stuff, but it sort of fits this scenario, doesn't it?"
"No it doesn't," Chief Bogo bluntly shot the attempt at humor down, as he was quite understandably unhappy about how this day was going. "Firstly, it's the early afternoon and very sunny. Secondly, from what I gathered, those members of your kind were trying to kill me for sport, not for sustenance like the predators of my world once did. Thirdly, from my perspective, you all are animals like any other species back home, just one that doesn't seem to exist there. Also, if that's the best that group has to offer, then I imagine most of their songs are unbearable."
"...Sorry, Bogo." Ambush Bug hung his head sadly. "And…yes, I wouldn't recommend their discography as a whole."
"Look, don't feel too bad…You helped me when no one else did," Chief Bogo sighed. "Come on, they're bound to catch up with us."
"Look over there," Ambush Bug then pointed at a nearby building. "I think it's some kind of movie theater! We can hide in there, and I'll ask if I can use the phone."
The two went inside, bought tickets to a random show that had already started half-an-hour earlier from an employee who didn't bat an eye at their unusual appearances, and they went into a dark screening room. The film being played was 'The Beekeeper 3: Danforth of the Dead', which was being projected onto the screen with the original English audio and with Spanish subtitles because the European Spanish dub hadn't been completed yet. This was an early screening, in fact. Jason Statham was back as the action hero protagonist Adam Clay, the titular Beekeeper, while Josh Hutcherson was back as well as the sleazeball nepo baby villain Derek Danforth, except now in passable but not astounding zombie makeup.
"To BEE punched or not to BEE punched? That is the question should've asked BEEfore pissing me off!" Statham-as-Clay quipped while holding the severed head of a slain zombie in his hand.
He then knocked Hutcherson-as-Derek into a brick wall with a powerful kick, ruining the already forced joke.
"That's where you are wrong, the Beekeeper, for I never ask questions and instead eat sushi on a beanbag chair and drive elderly women to suicide by stealing their money even though I'm super rich!" Hutcherson-as-Derek pulled himself up and threw a brick at Statham-as-Clay. "You will not stop me from taking revenge on my bitch mother, even if she is still the first female President of the United States."
Ambush Bug then turned to look at none other than you, the person/people reading this story right now, and knowingly smirked.
"Heh. If only, right?" Ambush Bug said to you in an aside that Chief Bogo himself didn't pay much attention to. "Not to get political, but…Really, America? I really would like to see it happen in my lifetime, but I now doubt we'll ever reach that milestone. This is why I moved to Spain. I had considered Greenland because of how much green I wear, but…well, you can probably guess why I didn't want to be in the middle of all that."
Thanks to his ability to look past and break the fourth wall, Ambush Bug was able to tell that the upset matadors wouldn't think to look for him and his furry new friend in the theater. He sat back and got comfortable as Jason Statham-as-Clay rode on the back a horse-sized robot bumblebee through the sky that shot bright blue laser beams from its eyes and stinger at the hordes of zombified phone scammers that were attacking Washington, D.C.
"Your species entertains itself in peculiar ways, Mr. Bug." Chief Bogo remarked.
"You don't know the half of it, Bogo! Back in '77, I water-skied over a shark!" Ambush Bug winked, well aware of what he was referencing. "Just an aside though, Ben would like for me to tell you that even though it has no business being brought into the 'Infinity Crisis' Multiverse, Alice Wu's film 'The Half of It' is a well made, pleasant watch with solid performances and a nice story with commendable representation."
Chief Bogo was puzzled by his odd new ally's asides, but just shrugged and kept watching.
Earth-2019022
Eden Academy, Ostania
Henry Henderson had just finished tidying up his office and was sitting in his armchair cleaning his monocle with a cloth. He was expecting his guests to arrive at any moment, and even though their visit did not directly pertain to his position at Eden or his work there, he still had every intention to present the school and himself as elegant to them.
"Ah, perfectly spotless. How elegant!" the longtime educator admired his monocle before putting it back on over his eye.
Despite his confidence in the aesthetics around him, Henderson still nonetheless felt a sense of uncertainty inside. This would be the first time he would ever be meeting these people in person, so he couldn't be completely sure what they would be like. He knew better than to expect perfect elegance on their part, and was open to be accommodating to their own customs. Because even if they were foreigners, these Hendersons were still his family.
Just as he was about to go over the list of their names he had on hand, there was a knock on his office door. He shot up and opened it. Sure enough, it was the branch of the Henderson bloodline who lived in a country far across the ocean, descended from a cousin of Henry's great-great grandfather. The family consisted of the husband and father George, the wife and mother Nancy, their teenage daughter Sarah, and their preadolescent son Ernie. He understood that they had a pet dog as well, but George had told Henry over the phone that they left it with a neighbor. They were all dressed in very casual clothing that looked jarringly out of place at an unabashedly snooty institution as Eden, but Henry knew it would be most inelegant to draw attention to that after his distant relatives took such a long flight just to meet him.
"Welcome, my fellow Hendersons," Henry bowed and ushered them in. "Please, take a seat. I put a call to the cafeteria to brew some tea for us, in case you would like a hot drink. It should be here shortly."
"My my. Such a gentleman," Nancy smiled. "My mother would like you."
"Thanks, cousin!" George beamed as he and his clan walked in. "Sorry our plane landed while you were on the clock."
"No apologies are required, my cousin," Henry closed the door behind the four.
He locked it in the events some of his precocious young students got the idea to peep in to get a look at his non-Ostanian relatives and unfairly judge them, an unbecoming act that even the youngest students at Eden were prone to doing.
"Wow, Cousin Henry," Ernie Henderson fiddled with his thick framed spectacles while looking at an old painting. "This sure is a fancy school you work at."
"I like to think of it less as 'fancy' and more as…Elegant." Henry opined.
"Elegant and ridiculously exclusive and expensive," Sarah plopped down on the office's couch. "Take it in, Ernie, because I doubt either of us will ever get to attend a school like this."
Before Henry Henderson could think of an elegantly worded way to defend the school to which he had dedicated so many of his years to, there was a second knock at the door. This one was louder and blunter, as if the person wasn't used to knocking on doors.
"That must be someone with the tea," he said and walked back to the door. "Just a moment, everyone."
Upon opening the door, Henry Henderson was met by one of the most shocking things he had ever seen in all of his life; Standing in the doorway before him was a massive ape-man covered in a thick layer fur that was mostly dark brown, but with light gray patches around his face that almost made it look like he had an unkempt version of Henry's mustache. He looked at Henry with a big friendly grin and waved hello at the family.
"Harry?! You followed us?! How?!" George, Nancy, Sarah, and Ernie all exclaimed in surprise at once.
The shocking sight of the hulking cryptid who his distant family members identified as 'Harry' caused Henry Henderson to faint onto the floor in a manner that he definitely wouldn't consider elegant. He dreamt of waking up in a forest on an alien moon where a tribe of miniature versions of Harry put him in a white dress and braided his hair who then mistook a stiff armed, golden plated robot version of Loid Forger for their god, thus saving a laser sword wielding Anya from being eaten by them.
"Uh oh." Ernie gulped.
(Author's Note: Uh oh, indeed, Ernie! Just how were the Hendersons going to manage to get out of this pickle? Find out in The Pighead's upcoming one-shot 'Infinity Crisis: Sasquatch x Family AKA Was It Wrong For Us to Laugh II: The Quickening'!)
Earth-88
Bear Country
(Author's Note: This scene is set BEFORE the lurid events of L1701E's one-shot 'Infinity Spotlights: Sister Bear')
"Rot in Niflheim, you Xenomorph scuuum!" roared the usually good natured grizzly who everyone called Papa Bear.
From atop the split level tree that he and his beloved Mama Bear, Brother Bear, and Sister Bear all called home, Papa Bear stared down in both fear and disgust at the inky black, eyeless extraterrestrial monstrosity that was climbing up it with its terrible claws. The grizzly then pulled a grenade from out of his denim overalls, ripped out the pin with his teeth, and threw it down into the hideous maw of the Xenomorph. Within seconds, the grenade exploded from within the Xenomorph, blowing it up into slimy chunks that rained everywhere.
"That's right," Papa Bear said. "You messed with the wrong bear, bitch."
"Papa! Language!" Sister Bear popped her head out from one of the pink framed windows.
"I think someone just earned himself some mixed nuts." Mama Bear said while walking out the front door.
Papa Bear clapped with giddy excitement for his favorite snack.
Earth-5933
Hermosillo, Sonora, Mexico
In an underground nightclub, a trio of trendy young women threw back some shots of tequila and went to the dance floor, but came to a halt. Even though the strobe lights were flashing and DJ was keeping the tunes going and only to see that the people on it were all staring at someone who they had huddled around. After some light shoving, one of the young women saw that it was a guy dressed like a cowboy who had captured everyone's attention.
"Umm…Hola?" he looked confused, like even he wasn't sure why he was there.
It was more than his outfit though, as everything about him from his face and body language made it seem like he was a character from an American Western movie made over ninety years ago who had somehow walked out into the modern world.
"Yo soy Bart Leadly…" he gestured at himself. "Umm…"
Then, suddenly, there was a flash of dark blue light in his eyes and his demeanor took a noticeable change for the better. Somehow, he no longer felt out of place at all. Within less than a blink of an eye, whoever this Bart person was had perfectly adjusted to the new era he found himself in.
"Estamos aquí para bailar, ¿verdad? ¡Vamos! ¡A bailar!" Bart Leadly beckoned everyone in the nightclub and threw his cowboy hat up into the air with dynamic, showy flair. "¡DJ, pon esa canción de Flo Rida con T-Pain!"
The DJ nodded, unaware that Leadly hadn't even known who either of those people were until the very moment the names left his lips.
*Shawty had them Apple Bottom jeans (Jeans), boots with the fur (With the fur)
The whole club was lookin' at her
She hit the flo' (She hit the flo'), next thing you know
Shawty got low-low-low-low-low-low-low-low*
Everyone broke out into a lively dance, the earlier awkwardness being completely forgotten within a couple minutes. The three trendy young women hooted and hollered when he tore off his shirt and whipped it around in circles over his head. No one took note of the dark blue tattoo on Leadly's lower back. It depicted a body of water…and several tugboats.
"Gather round, everyone, and I shall show you all three of my tits. See, here they are. Isn't their plumage lovely? This one here is named Muffin, and this one here is…Wait, why do all look so surprised to see my little bird friends? …Did you mistakenly think I was going to show you my nipples? Get your minds out of the gutter. You'll upset Muffin and her sisters." - Karol Durski-Trzaska, circa 1858