Plop! Justice Society of America

One Night Before Christmas

by Drivtaan

The classic Christmas poem retold — JSA style!

***

‘Twas the night before Christmas,
And at the North Pole,
A calamity had struck,
And it was looking no-go.

Chicken soup was cooking,
Hoping it’d do the trick;
Like I said, a calamity,
Because Santa was sick.

Then Mrs. Claus was inspired
On how to save the day;
She put in a call,
To the J.S. of A.

Now, Wildcat was on duty,
When the first call came in.
“Dis must be a joke,”
He said with a grin.

Then came a second call,
But he ignored that one, too.
“Must be dem kids,
“Like that Little Boy Blue.”

Finally, a third call
Saying, “The hour is late.
“Get off your fur,
“And get Doctor Fate!”

So, he sprang to his feet,
Toppling his chair with a crash;
He called on his teammates,
Green Lantern and Flash.

Johnny Thunder and Cei-U appeared
With Doctor Mid-Nite in tow;
Fate, Starman, Atom, and Sandman,
Not a one of them slow.

“The kids need us,” said Johnny,
“So let’s pick up the pace.
“Say, you know, we must hurry;
“We’re off to Santa’s place.”

In the blink of an eye,
They were at the North Pole,
Drinking hot chocolate
To ward off the cold.

“Santa’s schedule is shot,”
Mrs. Claus told the guys,
“The sleigh should already
“Be crossing the skies.

“Even with your help,
“I’m afraid it’s too late;
“We must postpone Christmas,
“‘Til a later date.”

“Not on your life!”
Starman said with a grin;
“We’re the Justice Society,
“And we have a plan.”

So they were off to the stable
Where the sleigh was prepared;
And soon they were ready
To take to the air.

Thanks to the efforts
Of Green Lantern and Fate,
Instead of one sleigh,
Now there were eight.

“I’ll divide up the toys
“And do it real quick.”
And good to his word,
Flash was done in a tick

“But there’s nine of us here,”
Atom included himself.
“Then you ride with me,” said Wildcat
“You’ll be my elf!”

After the laughter,
They were ready to go;
The sleighs were away
Through the cold North Pole snow.

Needless to say,
The heroes succeeded;
Everyone made it
To where they were needed

All over the world,
The children knew joy;
Each had a bright
And shiny new toy

So if you are worried
About Christmas Day,
It’s being taken care of
By the J.S. of A.

The End

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Showcase: Santa Claws

The Christmas Rescue

by Drivtaan

When Santa Claws has to make an emergency, he receives help from a most incredible source.

***

Author’s note: All dialogue is translated from the Kitalian language for your reading pleasure, with the exception of the traditional Kitalian Christmas greeting. Enjoy.

***

“Mayday! Mayday!”

The distress call originated high in the Alpo Mountains of Northern Kitaly and was sent out in a multitude of languages, especially those of the surrounding countries. The white-bearded polar bear raised the mike to his muzzle, squeezed the button, and spoke again.

“This is Santa Claws,” he said, “and I’ve been forced to make an emergency landing. Please, can anyone hear me?” He paused a moment and waited for a response. When none came, he spoke again. “If anyone can hear me, I need help. If you help me, I can guarantee that your name will stay on the nice list for the next three years.”

Santa Claws released the button and climbed out of the SLEIGH1000. The second his black boots hit the snow, he saw what the problem was. The fuel line running to the number two engine had split, causing the engine to quit running. Without the heat from the engine to keep itself warm, it had quickly iced over. The polar bear liked the SLEIGH1000; it had sounded good on paper. No more traveling around the world at breakneck speed in an open sleigh freezing his fur to the roots, listening to the reindeer complaining about having to work overtime on the holiday, and having an inebriated penguin sidekick sing “Here Comes Peter Cottontail” over and over — if he’d just learn a Christmas carol or two. The SLEIGH1000 was supposed to change all of that. It was a vertical take-off and landing craft that provided an enclosed cabin area with heated seats and satellite radio, and there were no whining reindeer. Of course, they thought it was a fantastic idea as well, until they received their final paychecks accompanied by a nice bright pink slip. Looking at his situation now, Santa almost wished he could hear their grumbling one more time.

“Chingedy ching. Hee-haw, hee-haw.”

The polar bear’s head snapped around so fast that his red and white hat sailed off his head. As he looked around, trying to locate the source of the voice he had heard, he called out, “Buon Natale. Who’s there?”

“Buon Natale to you, Santa Claws,” a snow-covered figure pulling a sled said as it emerged from the mountain fog. “I am Dominick, and I’ve come to help you.”

Santa watched the figure toss back his jacket’s hood and brush the snow from his shoulders. With the hood removed, the polar bear could see that his rescuer was a young donkey.

“Not to sound ungrateful, “the polar bear said, “but why didn’t you answer my distress call and let me know you were coming?”

Dominick smiled. “I heard no distress call,” he said. “I was out gathering wood for my fire when I heard your craft going down. I grabbed the sled in case someone was injured and came as quick as I could.”

“How close is your home?” Santa asked. “I’ve only been on the ground for about ten minutes.”

“My home is about twenty miles that way,” Dominick said, pointing back the way he’d came.

The polar bear’s mouth dropped open. “You actually traveled through these mountains, under these conditions, at two miles a minute?”

“I would have been here quicker,” the donkey replied, “but I was afraid if I ran at top speed I would miss you.”

Santa Claws was amazed.

“So,” Dominick said, taking a look at the downed SLEIGH1000, “what happened?”

The polar bear pointed to the problem and explained what had happened. “I need to get it repaired as soon as possible,” he said, “so I can finish delivering the Christmas presents.”

Dominick thought for a second, then said, “My uncle likes to tinker with things; maybe he can help.”

“Do you think he would know what to do?” Santa asked.

“It’s possible,” the donkey said. “You want I go get him?”

“If you think he could help,” Santa replied. “How far away does he live?”

“He lives in my village,” Dominick said.

The polar bear started to nod. Before he had a chance to actually say anything, the young donkey was gone. Echoing through the surrounding mountains, Santa could hear Dominick’s unusual call.

“Chingedy ching. Hee-haw, hee-haw.”

The final “haw” had scarcely died away when Santa heard it again.

Dominick skidded to a stop beside Santa, and an older donkey climbed off his back. The bear could only stare in amazement.

“I knew where I was going,” the young donkey said with a grin.

“Buon Natale,” the older donkey said, extending a gloved hoof to Santa. “I am Giuseppe, Dominick’s uncle.”

Santa readily accepted the hoof and shook it warmly. “Thank you for coming. “Do you think you can fix it?”

Giuseppe walked over to the SLEIGH1000 and began to look it over. After a moment, he nodded. “It shouldn’t take more than a couple hours,” he said, “although you will need some fuel to replace what was lost.”

Santa was relieved that it could be fixed, but was somewhat dismayed at the time that would be lost doing so. Giuseppe could tell what he was thinking by the look on his face.

“Why not let Dominick help you with your deliveries while I fix this?” the older donkey asked.

“Sure,” Dominick said. “I’d be glad to help.”

Santa looked at the anxious Dominick and then at the SLEIGH1000. “How much ground could we cover while this is being fixed?”

The young donkey thought for a moment. “I’ve never tried it, but I think we could get all of Kitaly.”

Santa Claws thought for a second. It was only a little less of an area that he would have covered on his own.

“If we have any time left when we are finished,” Dominick said, “we might pick up a few towns on the way back.”

The polar bear liked the young donkey’s spirit. “All right, then. We’ll give it a shot.”

As Giuseppe began going through his toolbox, Santa Claws and Dominick began transferring the gifts for the Kitalians and a few extra, just in case, from the SLEIGH1000 to the sled Dominick had brought.

Santa took his place on the sled and was ready to go when Giuseppe motioned for his nephew to wait. He picked Santa’s forgotten hat up and handed it to him.

“We can’t have Father Christmas making his rounds without this,” he said.

Santa placed it firmly on his head. “Thank you,” he said. “Expect a little something extra in your stocking.”

Giuseppe blushed. “Buon Natale,” was all he said before turning back to his work.

“Ready, Santa?” Dominick asked.

“Whenever you are,” came the jolly reply.

And in an instant, they were gone.

It was a ride that Santa Claws never forgot. Dominick ran through the snow at such a great speed that the sled’s rails barely touched the ground. Not only did they visit every house and home in Kitaly, but the small kingdom of Monacow received its gifts during this very special trip.

By the time they had returned to where Santa had made the crash landing, Giuseppe was placing his tools back in his toolbox. After Santa and Dominick poured a couple cans of fuel into the tanks that they had picked up at a Gran Prix garage, the SLEIGH1000 was soon ready to go.

Santa Claws thanked his two new friends and then climbed back into his craft. And as he took to the air and flew out of sight, the two donkeys could hear the polar bear’s voice singing over the loudspeakers, “Chingedy ching. Hee-haw, hee-haw!”

Buon Natale to you all.

The End

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Plop!

A Cheery Halloween Tale

by Blackwolf247

The gang from a certain long-running TV sitcom dress up like comic-book superheroes for Halloween. Hijinks ensue!

***

“Well, Carla, nice costume. Zatanna, I presume?”

“!yctcaxE”

“Hey, Sammy, why Batman?”

“Think about it, Cliff — bat… baseball…?”

“Oh, I get it.”

“Nice Superman costume, Mr. Claven.”

“Thank you, Woody — er, I mean, Robin.”

“!oot ,sgel ecin ,haeY”

“.ouy knahT”

“You understood her?”

“I did?”

“Hey is that Norm?”

“Evening, everybody!”

“Norm!”

“Not tonight, folks. Tonight, it’s Herbie!”

“Gee, Mr. Peterson, you don’t look like a car.”

“Not that Herbie, Boy Wonder, a comic-book character from my youth. It was either this, the Blob, or Bouncing Boy.”

“.etuC”

“Thanks, Carla.”

“Well, I need to see some ID. Last I knew, Herbie was underage.”

“Very funny, Caped Crusader, but that was the ’60s, remember? Let’s face it, there haven’t been that many role models for us, uh, larger-built guys.”

“So Sammy, or Batman, rather, any idea what Rebecca is gonna wear?”

“Funny you should ask, Superman, because the office door is opening now, and — oh, my God!”

“Hello, boys and girls. Anybody want to buy this kitty some milk?”

“If I do, can I scratch behind your ears?”

“Only if you want the touch of my cat-o’-nine tails, Batman!”

“Ooh, sure — promises, promises…”

“Purrr…”

Nearby, taking all of this in, sat a man disguised as the Flash.

“Blimey! It’s enough to make a bloke go back down under!”

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!

The End

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Captain Carrot and His Amazing Zoo Crew

Song of the Siren Belle

by Comickook and T Campbell

The Zoo Crew’s newest foe is the Siren Belle. Since she has the power to control the minds of all males listening to her sing, it’s up to Alley-Kat-Abra and Yankee Poodle to stop her crime spree. But can these two Zoo Crewers stop fighting like cats and dogs long enough to work together?

Author’s note: This story takes place between issues #19 and #20 of the Captain Carrot and His Amazing Zoo Crew comic-book series.

• Prologue: A Mighty Fine Debut

• Chapter 1: Fickle Wanda

• Chapter 2: The Multi-Critter

• Chapter 3: One-Note Wonder

• Epilogue: Resolutions

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In the hospital room of Alley-Kat-Abra — who had been badly bruised by the mind-controlled Rubberduck — the sorcerous tabby was already having a telepathic chat with Wanda as the wand bathed Abra in a healing ray.

Wanda: “Look, I really am sorry I let myself get distracted by the Belle’s promises. If I would have stayed more focused, we could have taken her. I never meant for you to get hurt.”

Abra: “Well, if wasn’t for the opening that was provided by the distraction, Rova wouldn’t have had the chance to take her down, so it did work out for the best. Still, we only make a good team when we can actually work as a team. Therefore, if you promise never to let temptation get in the way of duty again, I’ll promise never to take you for granted.”

Wanda: “Well, I can only promise to try to never let temptation get in the way of duty again, but I can and do promise that I’ll try very hard.”

Abra: “That’s all I can realistically ask, old friend. Just try as hard as you possibly can, and I’ll do the same.”

Wanda: “Deal, partner.”

Abra: “Welcome back, friend.”

***

Twenty-four hours later:

Samantha Drake quietly stayed deep in thought. Her powers had since worn off, and she wasn’t going to get ahold of her special helmet and throat spray to recharge those powers anytime soon. She ended up getting captured in the first place because she had succumbed to the temptation to use her powers for criminal purposes. Sure, she placed two members of the Zoo Crew under her spell and came very close to defeating two other members, but trying to be a super-villainess still got her caught and meant she would be spending at least the next ten years behind bars (unless she were to get time off for model behavior).

Well, Samantha had learned her lesson. She would resolve to be a model prisoner throughout her entire incarceration and, once she got out, she would forever more straighten up and fly right. No super-villain’s fantasies about getting revenge on Yankee Poodle and Alley-Kat-Abra for putting her away. Once she got out of prison, she would not do anything to risk going back. In fact, if she were to find a (legal) way to get her powers back after she got out, she would become a super-heroine to honor the two who had captured her. But the odds of that happening were one in a billion.

The End

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The Siren Belle managed to make it to her hideout while Alley-Kat-Abra and Yankee Poodle were busy with CFRP-One, and she reached for a high-tech-looking helmet with a noticable switch on the right side, which she flipped in the upward postion. Suddenly, she was surrounded by a massive golden glow.

“Ah know ah still have six hours left on the previous twenty-four-hour charge from this telekinesis helmet, but ah also have a feelin’ that those two super-biddies will probably find a way to defeat CFRP-One, so ah’ve got to see if I can power myself up while ah’m still carrying a charge,” Samantha Drake said simply, then reached for a bottle of throat spray and squirted some of it into her throat.

After a quick test, Samantha saw that her gambit paid off; her telekinetic powers were greatly increased by the helmet’s charge, and her singing had become even more powerful (as evidenced that all of the super-sensitive sound detection equipment was registering off the scale).

“Ah knew ah was on to something big ever since ah, as a lab assistant at the Mew Orleans division of Von Bruin Labs International, just one month ago stumbled onto that special throat spray and helmet that could give me incredible powers so long as ah recharged them every twenty-four hours. This, however, is the first time ah’ve tried the spray and helmet while ah still had a few hours left on a previous charge.”

***

Meanwhile, inside the Zoo Cruiser, which was once more airborne, Fastback asked, “Whut do ya think y’all are doin’, Mista Rentals, suh? We wuz supposed ta be headin’ back ta the Z-Building ta pick up Cap ‘n Pig-Iron.”

Following the blip on the Zoo Cruiser‘s radar (Rubberduck had planted a homing device on the Siren Belle while he had himself wrapped around her), Rubberduck simply replied, “And let them hog the glory? I don’t think so, Timmy-Joe. I want this gal too badly for that.” As he took the Zoo Cruiser in for a power dive, he silently added, “In more ways than one.”

***

Back at the Siren Belle’s hideout, a flash of very bright light appeared in front of the villainess, and the figures of Alley-Kat-Abra and Yankee Poodle appeared out of that flash. “Excellent work, Wanda,” Abra telepathically told her wand just as the Zoo Cruiser came crashing in. Samantha tried singing when she saw Rubberduck and Fastback. This time, the Belle’s singing was powerful enough to take control of Rubberduck and Fastback despite their respective ear-plugs and ultra-sonic vibrations.

“Ah’d be lying if ah said ah didn’t at least half-expect you super-heroines to find a way to defeat that super-robot,” the Siren Belle said as she, along with the mind-controlled Rubberduck and Fastback, advanced on Abra and Rova. “Howevah, CFRP-One did serve his purpose, keeping you busy long enough for me to increase mah powers enough for me to stand a fighting chance against you. Having two o’ your teammates under mah control makes things all the bettah.”

Magnetic blasts and mystic force-bolts acted as covering fire as Rova and Abra retreated slowly — too slowly to escape. But it bought them a little time.

Even more so than before, Rova had no time to put her thoughts into words. But if she had, they might have run something like this:

OK. Pros and cons.

CON: Byrd and the turtle look TOtally luuded out, so I don’t think the old “Fight it off, guys” speech is going to work.

PRO: Our crooning crone CRANE hasn’t really mastered this group-strategy thing yet. Byrd and Fastback are advancing on us at normal speed, instead of their usual blitzkrieg. And we’re hitting them a lot more often than we should be.

CON: That duck is singing again, louder than ever, and Abra looks pretty stressed. I think that “Félicette” thing took something out of her, and I don’t speak stick, but it looks like the wand is getting unfaithful again, and Abra’s calming it. I don’t know what kind of support I can expect from either of them, if any. Typical.

CON: Oh, MAHvelous. Bellie’s on the learning curve. Byrd’s getting stretchier, and Fastback’s getting faster.

PRO: I’ve signaled for help.

CON: There’s no way Rod and Pig-Iron can get here in time without Fastback, Abra, or the Zoo Cruiser.

CON: Byrd’s fist just connected with Abra’s cheek. She looks bad.

CON: That doggone SINGING! She sounds like Bunny Raitt cranked up to 180 decibels! It’s worse than fighting the Squawker–

–the Squawker…

the SQUAWKER’S weakness…

Fastback’s shell crashed into her ribs, knocking her off-balance. She just managed to create a star-spangled cushion and roll him off her and onto a stripe-slide. It would take his clouded mind maybe ten seconds to figure out what had happened and run back uphill into her.

Byrd had stretched himself into a sheet and completely subsumed Felina, whose struggles were getting progressively weaker.

And the Siren Belle was singing directly to Wanda now, promising her sestinas, antique finish, and the glory and respect she truly deserved, which meant that the Belle was distracted for two shakes of a poodle’s tail.

OK, Rova, sweetheart, thought Rova (and now the thoughts were words), you get this right or kiss your tail-puff goodbye. No pressure.

She clapped her paws together, interlaced her fingers, and pushed — and pulled. Stars and stripes wove themselves into an almost-hypnotic pattern, a pattern that gushed out of her arms and directly toward the Siren Belle, and toward the Siren Belle’s face, and into the Siren Belle’s mouth.

There was a sound like an Ozzy Ostrich concert compressed into one note. Then, for Rova, there was only blackness.

***

“She’s going to be all right?”

“Cap, I’ve checked her every ten minutes since I woke up. She — she should be fine.” Byrd sounded less than totally convinced of his own answer.

“Gnuh?” asked Rova.

“She’s awake.”

There were bright lights over her. “Can you hear us, Rova?” It was Captain Carrot talking.

“Ynnn.”

“Fastback rushed you over here as soon as you snapped him out of it.”

“Whr’s hrrr?”

“St. Bernie’s Hospital.”

“Srrn Bll?”

“She’s here, too,” said Captain Carrot. “On sleeping gas, and not to be awoken until we get her into a soundproof prison cell.”

“Rnfrs cnkrt.”

“Sorry?”

Oh, she was going to have to wake up, wasn’t she? Drat it all. She opened her eyes, painfully, and saw Byrd Rentals and Rodney Rabbit standing there. Her mask was still in place, and she used it to reduce the glare. “Make sure it’s made of reinforced concrete. She… throws things… and animals.”

“Will do,” said Captain Carrot. “You know, we’ve got to get you some earplugs. I know how hard these sonic villains are on you.”

“Sounds fab. I’m gonna play dead now, OK?”

Byrd blanched, even under his feathers. Rodney smiled, understandingly, and walked out of the room. Byrd stayed. “I’m sorry.”

“Huh? ‘S OK.”

“Cap already gave me the third degree, extra crispy, but it’s nothing compared to what I was already going through. Or what you were already going through. Just because I couldn’t keep my glands to my–”

“Byrd. ‘S OK. OK? Now… I’m asleep. G’night.”

“Good night.”

Byrd walked out of the hospital a changed duck. He was tired of being a playbird, reaching around for every pretty piece of animal flesh he could find. What did they all matter, in the end? What mattered were things like integrity and honesty — and friends, friends like Rova.

His resolve lasted almost halfway through the parking lot, whereupon he met one of his typical mobs of squealing fans and received three separate compliments on how sexily he could sign an autograph.

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If you had been looking out over the docks, about ten minutes later, you would have seen a black cat, a white poodle, and a blue tortoise shell float overhead at nearly sixty miles per hour. You wouldn’t have been able to hear their words, but you would have heard that they were shouting over the wind.

“CAN YOU POINT THAT THING IN ANOTHER DIRECTION?” shouted Yankee Poodle.

“DON’T CALL HER A THING!” replied Alley-Kat-Abra. There was anger in her voice, and something else.

Rova Barkitt was pretty sure she overheard a telepathic whisper from Abra afterward: “Shhh. Shhh. It’s OK. It’s OK.” There was kindness in the telepathy, and something else. The same something else as before. It took Rova a moment to recognize what that something else was:

Fear.

If you’d asked her, Rova herself couldn’t have told you why she started thinking back to the day she got her powers — when Byrd Rentals — her best friend — had started swelling and stretching like a CGI effect, and magnetics started shooting out of her hands, smashing everything they touched.

What if she’d never learned to completely control the powers?

And what if they had a mind of their own — a mind she had to placate with improv poetry, a mind that could stop liking her at any time?

It’d be almost as bad as being married.

And despite herself, Rova felt a moment of worry on Abra’s behalf, followed by a much more typical moment of worry on her own. As they descended through the streets of Mew Orleans, homing in on the Siren Belle, Rova’s mind drifted to a line from the Super-Squirrel movie:

“You’ve got me, but who’s got you?”

A few minutes earlier, when the Siren Belle had just blasted Alley-Kat-Abra, Yankee Poodle, and Fastback with some telekinetically moved smoke from a chimney during the mid-air chase, she had landed gently for a brief rest and had hidden from her foes up until now. “Finally lost them three,” the Siren Belle said, “but jus’ in case…”

With that, the villainess telekinetically ripped out three rather large chunks of earth and flung them at Abra, Rova, and Timmy-Joe while they were still reeling from the improv smoke screen. Though the smoke and the earth chunks hardly posed any real danger to the three heroes (they’ve all certainly dealt with much worse — most recently a second run-in with Frogzilla), they did provide just enough of a distraction for the villainess to feel secure in feeling she had escaped.

That was, until she saw a flash of green drop down on her in the form of a living coil and felt that green coil squeeze around her tightly. From the top of this coil emerged a duck’s head, which made the comment, “So, you beauteous bad bird. Come to Mew Orleans often? Seriously, though, how about stopping over by the Cats-bah before I finish bouncing you over to the police.”

Samantha Drake tried singing to get Rubberduck to let her go, but his ear plugs’ protection held. Instead, Rubberduck leered at her and quipped, “You don’t need to sing to put me under your spell; I’m already under it.”

The Siren Belle then tried her gaze, but those special lens Rubberduck wore kept him protected from that aspect of her mind-control, too. “You’ve got very nice eyes, gorgeous, but I’ve still got to turn you in to the police-dogs,” Rubberduck said with a sigh of half-regret.

Finally having enough of the super-stretching would-be Duck Juan, the Siren Belle telekinetically pried herself loose of Rubberduck’s grip and then flung him right into a wall, keeping him pinned telekinetically. Oddly enough, however, Rubberduck didn’t mind that much. In fact, he replied, in all honestly, “I like a gal that plays rough and hard-to-get.”

However, keeping Rubberduck at bay took enough of Samantha’s telekinetic power to leave her wide open for one of Yankee Poodle’s star-blasts. “Back away from our teammate, you baleful bird bandit,” Rova said in a heroic tone as Alley-Kat-Abra signaled Fastback to get Rubberduck back to the Zoo Cruiser while she and Rova dealt with the Siren Belle.

Samantha got up from the blast looking rather pained, surprised the star blast didn’t make her stronger like it did the first time Yankee Poodle tried it. That’s when it hit her — the reason the star blast made her stronger last time was because the wand was protecting her. Now Magic Wanda was back with her original holder, and Rova, Abra, and Wanda never looked more focused. This caused the villainous female waterfowl to gulp loudly. After all, she knew she was no match for all three when they were that focused.

Still, she also realized that all her efforts to elude the trio would be doomed to failure, because one of that trio had her mental marking, which left either surrender or fighting against seemingly hopeless odds.

If she surrendered, she was afraid would be the laughingstock of the super-villain community. However, she knew fighting would prove futile with no males around for her to entrance into helping fight her foes.

That’s when it hit Samantha again — she let fear cloud her mental faculties. She still had one trick left open to her, courtesy of some rather lonely evil scientists she had seduced with her mind-control powers. She wasn’t going to use it unless she absolutely had to, because, though she was a criminal, she wasn’t a killer. Still, she believed in being prepared.

With that thought in mind, she pressed a button on a remote control unit she kept in her purse. In a flash of light, a one-quarter rabbit, one-quarter turtle, one-quarter-duck, and one-quarter pig monstrosity emerged.

“Say hello to CFRP-One, the Multi-Critter,” she drawled. “You will find he possesses the combined might of all four o’ your Zoo Crew teammates, though the scientists who created him found a way to make the Captain Carrot powers permanent in this critter. I truly did hate to call him in, howevah, since it seemed a bit on the drastic side, and I am, by nature, not a killer. But you left me with no othah choice.”

The words flew out of Rova’s mouth as unexpectedly as the first stars and stripes had flown out of her hands: “Joking… right?”

CFRP-One replied: “PRIMARY TARGETS IDENTIFIED. COMMENCING LETHAL–”

The poodle and the tabby’s reflexes and skills responded before their conscious thoughts. In less time than it took to tell it, there was a stripe-shaped cocoon around them both, glowing with Wanda’s xanthic protection.

“–MANEUVERS,” the robot finished, and all high holy Heck broke loose.

Samantha ran, not stopping for anyone or anything, but shouting all the way, “Y’all brought this on yourselves! It wasn’t me! It wasn’t me!”

Imagine the combined strengths of Pig-Iron and Captain Carrot in one creature. Combine that with Rubberduck’s ability to throw punches from any direction, using extended arms like twenty-foot snakes. Finally, add Fastback’s speed, which was nearly supersonic even in close quarters like these. If you could imagine all that, you could just about imagine the punishment Rova’s cocoon was taking. It would have taken an outrageous optimist to hope that they would be safe for long — and Rova was nothing if not a realist.

“Get us out of here!” she shrieked.

Abra was levitating inside the cocoon, twitching and thrashing as if half-possessed, sweating and growling, muttering, “Concentrating…”

“Concentrate faster!” Were there cracks in the cocoon already? Rova strained, shot out more stripes, and built up a second cocoon inside the first. But she couldn’t keep doing that; the air was already getting thin.

“This is much harder than — it’s the magnetism in your stripes, I can’t find the ley lines…”

“Sorry, dearie! I’ll try to–”

Abra’s eyes glowed yellow-green, a glow that spread along her cape, and she called in a voice that was not quite her own, “Félicette, spirit of the astronauts! I call upon you! Heed us! Help us! Open your doors!”

There was a blinding flash within the cocoon, followed by an equally blinding darkness, and then silence, save for Abra’s labored breathing.

After a minute, Rova pulled a few of the stripes back into her hand, just enough to open the cocoon a tiny crack, and let in a bit of air and light. She saw nothing through the peephole. “It’s… gone?”

“Oh, yeah,” said Abra, getting enough breath back to laugh a little. “It’s really gone.”

“Where?”

“About fifty miles up.”

“Uh-huh…”

“Wanda and I and… a third party… were able to teleport it up there, even through the stripes. And tough as the Captain and Pig-Iron are, even they wouldn’t survive a fall from that height. I have to give Wanda credit: I wouldn’t have thought of that.”

Rova widened the peephole. “Didn’t Pig-Iron tell us he met Rod when he caught him from falling out of the stratosphere?”

“Yes, I’ve wondered about that, too. I believe the Captain might have some latent levitational ability, which he isn’t consciously aware of. It’d be interesting to see how his powers worked on a magical world, where the laws of gravity and physics are more flexible. But I doubt the scientists who built this robot could duplicate that.”

By now, Rova had widened the peephole into a door. “Well, faaascinating as this is, dahling, we should be going. That crooning crone is a lot more dangerous than we expected. And I was hoping to get to the sauna tonight.”

She looked back at Abra and saw she was still squatting on the floor and breathing hard. “You all right?”

“Yes. I just… remind me to sacrifice a sardine on Wednesday.”

“I’ll put it on my day planner. Is that for that spirit you paged? Felic–”

“Shhh. Don’t say her name.”

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Webbed feet walked on air, not quite touching the river. Samantha Drake, the Siren Belle, shivered. Even with her powers, it was a long walk, and of course one had to dress appropriately for the party; but there was the boat, up ahead.

The Steamboat Hatchez continued down the Mew Orleans riverfront. Inside, Mew Orleans’ higher animals glittered in jewelry and sequins. The conversation drifted around how wonderful it was to see one another, how much they all loved that dress, how horrible the world situation was, and how difficult it was, since the recent unpleasantness in Afghanhoundistan, to find fresh imported caviar. Rova Barkitt was right at home.

“And now you say it all the time, whenever any old Swinefeld actor starts a new project,” said Jason Alligator. “‘This project is doomed. It’s the curse of Swinefeld.’”

“Oh, pooh-pooh, dahling!” Rova replied. “What do we simple entertainment reporters know, anyway? You’ll come back bigger than ever!”

“Ahhh, I don’t really mind,” said the short, balding, bespectacled Jason. “I mean, I used to be worried that I wouldn’t live up to high expectations, but now everybody’s expectations are through the floor! I do a Kentucky-Fried Chiclets commercial where basically all I do is smile and squint, and everybody says–”

Yankee Poodle! Stay alert!

Rova tensed but tried not to show it. “Can you excuse me for a minute, Jasie, dear? I’ve got a sudden headache.”

It wasn’t a lie. In the privacy of the females’ room, Rova tapped her communicator and hissed into it, “Don’t do that!”

“She’s close, Y.P. You were right.”

“So call me on cell! Stay out of my head!”

“I assumed you’d want me to contact you quietly.”

“Sheez, you really don’t know anything about show business, do you? Nor about your hometown, apparently. These animals are as, aheheh, ‘free-spirited’ as any I’ve met in Follywood. How did you manage to live her so long and stay such a doe-eyed innocent?”

There was a silent pause, during which Rova was fairly sure she could hear Alley-Kat-Abra doing a breathing exercise to keep her temper. “Just get into costume–”

“Already done, dearie. This little chat isn’t taking too much of my concentration.”

“–and get out there. I’ll teleport in once you make your move.”

“Just in time to steal most of the credit. Got it.”

Rova got out of the room just in time to dodge a flying hippopotamus.

Sure enough, the Siren Belle was there, and she wasn’t wasting any time. The males were all immobilized, and the females were helpless before a telekinetic storm straight out of Stephen King-Vulture. Wallets, credit cards, and jewelry were all floating out of their places and into a pile in front of her as she finished her song about lost love and missed alimony payments.

Rova had learned the best time to quip was just after the first attack, when they’re trying to think of a defense. Never quip before you attack, no matter how good it feels, or you’ll lose the surprise.

Stripes shot out of her left hand and wrapped around the Belle’s bill, duck-taping it shut. “Consider this music criticism.”

Cheers went up among the females who could still stand: “Hammerica! Hammerica! United Species forever!” Rova had been wearing the flag since before it was fashionable, but it was very fashionable this year. Of course, Rova, though a proud patriot, was hardly Captain Americat. Someone else might consider it a little declasse to accept those cheers. But Rova wasn’t someone else.

She never saw it coming. The Belle made no gesture, and the air gave no glow. Rova just felt an invisible truck smash into her, smash her into the nearest wall, and pin her there.

For a few seconds, they both struggled, Samantha Drake to open her beak, Rova to wriggle her right hand free. Rova was making slow progress, and Samantha was making none.

Desperately, Samantha applied small telekinetic bursts to either side of her bill. They hurt, but they got her mouth open, and she opened it to sing again…

And her breath caught in her throat.

There was a flash of light in front of her, and then there was a black cat, large, imposing, and levitating just above eye level. Samantha knew of Alley-Kat-Abra, had seen her once or twice before, but barely recognized her now. Abra’s eyes gleamed. Her wand gleamed. Even her tail gleamed. “Surrender,” she said, and the word was more than a word.

Samantha had never been more afraid in her life — but her words were more than words, too.

“Life is sore surrender, life gives endless pain,
But life can offer splendor if you know how to gain,
Gain trust, gain friendship, yes, gain love, the kind that makes you free,
I need a friend, a soulmate, someone who will fight for me.”

Felina Furr felt, rather than saw, the males beginning to respond, to step toward her. Rova was free, but still unsteady. ”Wanda, quickly, close her jaw! Hurry up and — clench her… maw!”

Magic Wanda sputtered, complaining, and nothing happened. ”Look, Wanda, these are ad libs! What do you want from me?”

She was unprepared for the answer. Wanda flew out of her hand and into Samantha’s. Samantha stared, not understanding.

“…what?” said Felina, wobbling in the air.

It’s always something, thought Rova darkly, shooting stripes out of her fingers, hoping to yank that dumb stick out of the battlefield before things got any–

The stripes touched Wanda, and Wanda didn’t like to be touched. She exploded with force in all directions, sending everyone but Samantha flying backward. Felina barely had time to go limp before she slammed into Rova and into unconsciousness.

Samantha looked around at the room, then back at the wand. She tried a few more rhymes, experimentally. Wanda glittered happily with each one.

And Samantha began to smile. “Y’know, ah was thinkin’ ah might want to borrow one of your lifeboats, but now… Ah don’t think Ah’ll… we’ll… be needin’ it. Thank y’all for your hospitality. G’bye, now!”

And Samantha, Wanda, and the pile of valuables levitated out a broken window, with Samantha laughing like the pealing of a bell.

“‘Oh, don’t worry, my friends,’” muttered Rova sarcastically, moving painfully under Felina, reaching for her signal device. “‘I have this totally unique, semi-conscious magical object under my complete control!’ When you wake up, I’m suing you.”

***

The Zoo Cruiser sliced into the Mew Orleans sky with more style and power than any jet. Byrd Rentals flew it in a holding pattern, caressing the curves of nearby clouds, and practiced his lady-killer smile.

The magical alarm had gone off about fifteen minutes ago, so one of two things would probably happen soon. One: Abra and Rova would report they’d captured the Belle, and Byrd would get to help with the interrogation. Two…

The alarm sounded on his wrist, and it was orange alert. So it was number two: that the ladies needed help bringing this dastardly duck damsel to justice. That was much better, especially since Byrd’s method of restraint was to turn himself into an avian body-wrap. Byrd cranked the Cruiser‘s radio to the max and began his dive.

Rubberduck saw the Siren Belle flying off with the loot and Alley-Kat-Abra’s wand, while Fastback was zipping in to grab Yankee Poodle and Alley-Kat-Abra and carry them safely out of the grasps of the attacking mob still under the Belle’s control. Confident in the precautions he took (i.e. the special lens and the ear plugs), Rubberduck steered the Zoo Cruiser right after the fleeing villainess.

Unfortunately, the radio was still loud enough to alert the villainess to the incoming hero. With an all-too-easy aerial side-step, the Belle dodged the incoming vehicle and almost nailed it with a blast from Alley-Kat-Abra’s wand. However, Rubberduck was a skilled enough pilot to dodge the blast.

As the Siren Belle was getting ready to unleash a telepathic assault on the Zoo Cruiser, she got nailed by one of Yankee Poodle’s star blasts, though the Belle was somehow able to absorb enough of the blast to remain not only conscious, but relatively unharmed. In fact, all Yankee Poodle’s star blast did was make the Siren Belle’s powers stronger.

As Alley-Kat-Abra started to come to, she looked at Wanda and telepathically called to it via the psychic link they still had, and said, “Look, Wanda, I really am very sorry for snapping at you. I should have tried harder to come up with a good rhyme. I also shouldn’t have bragged about having any real sort of control over you; nobody controls you but you. I shouldn’t have taken you for granted, expecting you to work for me. Still, if it’s not too late, I’d like you to come back to working with me as an equal partner.”

Touched by this heartfelt (if sickeningly sappy) apology, Magic Wanda broke itself free from the Belle’s grasp and started flying back toward Alley-Kat-Abra, though it was detained by the Belle’s telekinetic power. Fortunately, this tug-of-war took so much of the Belle’s energy that the villainess was left wide open for one of Yankee Poodle’s stripe-traps. Desperately, Samantha Drake started singing again, and this time Fastback fell under her control as well as every male on board the ship (Rubberduck was protected by the special ear plugs he was wearing, but Fastback wasn’t so fortunate).

Under the Siren Belle’s control, Fastback used his super-speed to grab Yankee Poodle’s stripes and zip them again and again around Yankee Poodle and Alley-Kat-Abra. Though Abra was able to free herself and Rova from the stripes with some help from Magic Wanda (help she made absolutely certain to thank Wanda for), this still provided enough of a diversion for the villainess to make good her escape — or so she thought, since Rubberduck discreetly followed her after landing the Zoo Cruiser.

A quick freeze ray blast from Magic Wanda made it possible for all the entranced males to be stopped without being hurt; well, all the entranced males except Fastback, who was able to vibrate his body until he melted through his ice block. Fortunately, those same vibrations also freed Fastback from the Belle’s control. “Much obliged ta ya ‘n yer wondrous wand, Miss Abra, ma’am,” Timmy-Joe Terrapin said matter-of-factly.

“Hey, you freed yourself with your ultra-sonic vibrations — Magic Wanda merely gave you an excuse to use them,” Abra said honestly. She added, “There is one positive aspect to Magic Wanda’s thankfully very brief bonding with the Siren Belle…”

“Which is?” Yankee Poodle asked in an annoyed tone.

“That positive aspect is that Magic Wanda now has a mental marking of our quarry. That means we can now follow her anywhere, assuming, of course, Magic Wanda is feeling up to it,” Alley-Kat-Abra answered as her sorcerous stick started leading the two furry female felon foilers as well as their fleet-footed reptilian ally on the villainess’s trail like a magic-powered bloodhound.

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Mew Orleans:

A tall (well, tall by Earth-C standards), starkly beautiful 23-year-old female duck approached a nightclub. She had bright yellow feathers, medium blue-green eyes, and bright red hair, and she was garbed in a simple but elegant navy blue dress and an expensive-looking, but quite tasteful, jewel-covered necklace.

She was stopped before she could enter the nightclub by two rather burly male rhinoceroses in black suits. “‘Scuse me, ma’am, but we’ll need ta know yer name ta check if ya have a reservation before we can let ya in. Dis is a restricted club,” one rhinoceros said matter-of-factly.

“O’ course, it could take a while fer us ta check da reservation, so I could keep ya comp’ny in da meantime,” the other rhinoceros said with a lustful leer.

With a snort of disgust, the female duck glanced casually at the two rhinoceros bouncers and placed them both under a powerful trance that immobilized them, allowing her to enter without further harassment. Once inside, she then started to sing (and since we’re absolutely no good with lyrics, you’re gonna have to use your own imagination for those), her song placing every male animal in the building hopelessly under her spell, while simultaneously producing the vibrations needed to cause the club cash register and the vault behind the main counter to both spring open.

When a few of the braver female animals in the club tried to stop this daring duck, she simply and casually glanced their way, mentally pinning them to the floor while she levitated all of the cash and jewelry from the vault, the register, and the customers’ pockets over to her side.

As she left with the loot from the robbery in mental tow, the mysterious female duck said in a seductive Southern belle accent, “By the time all y’all free yahselves from the effects of mah powers, which won’t be for another twenty minutes, ah’ll be miles away and have made a clean getaway. Ah’d say that’s a mighty fine debut for the Siren Belle.”

***

The time when she left was 9:35 PM.

At 9:55 PM, the first call came in to the police-dog department.

At 10:05 PM, the police-dog department called the super-animal emergency hotline, 1-800-SQUAWKS.

At 11:00 PM (or 9:00 PM, Califurnia time) Rova Barkitt (a trained interviewer) and Rodney Rabbit (the supervillain expert-in-residence) finished their phone interviews with witnesses and compared notes.

At 9:30 PM Califurnia time, the Zoo Crew convened in the Z-Building’s basement around the carrot-stump-shaped Ground Table. The fern in the middle of the table were dying fast, which is what you’d expect when your architect puts plants in the basement. The Z-Building’s design was actually full of headaches like that, from the diagonal elevator to the unstable plumbing, and Rodney had considered requesting a redesign. But the carrot motif was just so… flattering.

“Thank you all for coming so quickly,” said Captain Carrot, brisk and businesslike.

Pig-Iron looked at him with a mixture of pity and annoyance. He tried to hold in his reply as long as he could, but everyone else was just sittin’ there, and, flamin’ filings, somebody had to say it:

“Why the heck wouldn’t we come so quickly? We all live here! How the frig would we get here slowly?”

“Tarnation!” said Timmy-Joe Terrapin, slapping his forehead. “Ah left th’ feed in th’ oven!” And the reptilian rocket called Fastback ran out of the room, as usual creating a massive tailwind that blew all the papers off the table and further shortened the life expectancy of the fern.

“Wow,” said Rova, alias Yankee Poodle. “Even when he’s on time, he’s late.”

Rodney glanced at Pig-Iron. “Asked and answered. Moving on to more important matters — the Siren Belle. Looks like she’s got telekinetics — somewhere between Abra’s and Rova’s — and some mind-control ability. That’s something we’ve never faced before, and I want to be careful. The last thing we need is to turn our careers into a bad remake of The Invasion of the Body Poachers.”

Rova nodded, solemnly. “Two of them were enough.”

Looking defensive, Byrd Rentals opened his beak as if to speak, then shut it again. Rubberduck decided to let this criticism pass by.

“Fortunately,” Rodney went on, “her powers seem to have limitations. She entranced a couple of male rhinoceroses at close range, but to entrance large numbers of people, she had to sing, like Kitteny Spears in that Pupsi commercial. And even then, her powers only seem to affect males — or, possibly, lesbians.”

“Only sings to males, hm?” said Byrd lightly. “She must be lonely.”

Alley-Kat-Abra, Rova, and Pig-Iron all rolled their eyes at him. But Byrd looked perfectly innocent. Of course, being an actor, he had practiced looking perfectly innocent for hours.

“That means,” Rodney went on before the meeting got away from him again, “that the best thing we can do is give this one to you two, Abra and Rova. You’ll be immune to the worst of her powers.”

“Unless there’s something you’re not telling us, dahling,” added Rova, smiling saccharine at Abra.

Alley-Kat-Abra‘s eye briefly glinted, and a fang briefly bared itself. Consciously, she turned to the Captain. ”Mew Orleans is my hometown, Captain. Two of those females who defended themselves were my old students. You couldn’t keep me away.”

Rodney smiled, actually looking relaxed for a moment. “Good deal. If it gets to be too much for you, signal us, and we’ll get Timmy Joe to rescue you before she can blink.”

The moment was lost. Felina Furr could see it happening to him, word by word. He was writing, not talking — saying the things he imagined a super-hero leader should say.

“But that’s a last resort. For the most part, you guys are going to have to put the cat-and-dog-fights behind you and depend on each other.”

It was a technique that had kept them alive, so she didn’t have too much of a right to complain, but who was he really? Did she still know? Did he?

“Can you do that?”

She blinked. “Do what?”

“Work together,” he said. “The two of you, as a team.”

“Oh, sure!” said Rova, smiling sweetly. “Felinie and I just need to get to know each other better. I always felt we could be like sisters!”

“Or at least stepsisters,” added Abra. She tried to look innocent as she said it, like Byrd. But she failed.

“Ah’m back!” shouted Timmy-Joe, blowing into the room and uprooting the fern once and for all. It landed on the side of the table in a manner that looked like suicide. Fastback sat and looked around. ”Whut’d ah miss?”

“Well, Cap just assigned this Siren Belle case to Abra and Rova, because they’re female and thus immune to her mind control,” Byrd answered before asking. “But what would be the matter with me coming along if I wore special lens and ear plugs to protect myself from her mind control?”

Rodney sighed. Obviously, Byrd really wanted to go on this mission.

“Are you serious, Byrd?” Rova answered honestly. “We’ve all seen her picture. We know why you want to come along. Even with ear plugs and special lens, we couldn’t trust you around her.”

Felina nodded, even though she was more than a little surprised that she and Rova, for once, actually agreed completely on something other than the fact that they could barely stand each other without the others present.

“I’m afraid Rova’s right, Byrd,” Rodney replied. “Besides, the special anti-mind control lens and ear plugs haven’t yet been perfected enough for me to feel comfortable letting one of us accompany Abra and Rova on this case.”

“Well, OK, Cap,” Byrd sighed, though he had his fingers crossed behind his back. There was no way he was going miss out on this case, even if he had to sneak off and commandeer the Zoo Cruiser to get to Mew Orleans.

“Well, we’d better first try to figure out where the Siren Belle is most likely to strike next,” Rova said, “so we can be waiting for her when she does strike next.”

“She might be clever enough to expect us to do just that and then strike somewhere else just to spite us,” Felina countered calmly. “The most efficient thing to do is create special alarm devices, install one in every night club in Mew Orleans under the cover of an invisibility spell, and then wait her out. When she strikes again, Magic Wanda will alert us, and I’ll teleport us to the scene of the crime before our quarry has a chance to get away.”

“Well, I suppose that’s a good plan, Felinie,” Rova commented, “but I just got a stunning new dress, and I was just itching for a good excuse to use it. Swinging by a Mew Orleans night club just seems to qualify.”

That and the fact you would also have a good excuse to flirt with as many guys as possible, Felina thought to herself, though she refrained from saying this out loud. You’re as bad around guys as Byrd is around females.

Instead, Felina simply stated, “Look, let’s just agree to a compromise — you wait for her at whatever nightclub you think the Siren Belle will be likely to strike at next, and I’ll install the silent magic alarms. That way, we can use both of our plans. It’ll be better for all concerned if we just get this case over with as quickly as possible.”

“Agreed,” Rova said as she and Felina shook paws on the matter.

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Ala-Kat-Zam

Wand and Wanda

by CSyphrett

The trial of Fat Kat, kingpin of crime, is about to begin, with stoolie Matt Mouser a chief witness against him. Is it any wonder that Fat Kat wants him and his alter ego Ala-Kat-Zam dead and has hired Feline Faust to do the deed? Good thing the Zoo Crew’s Alley-Kat-Abra is around to watch Matt’s back!

***

The obese kingpin known as Fat Kat stalked back and forth in front of his visitor.

“This is the job,” he growled. “I need two guys gone. One is a stoolie named Matt Mouser. He is supposed to testify against me, but so far he has stayed out of sight, and the trial isn’t too far away. The other is this new hero guy, Ala-Kat-Zam. He has ruined two tries at acquiring pieces of property that I wanted. Can you fix it?”

“Yes, I can,” said the hit cat.

***

Matt Mouser walked into the courthouse, keeping his eyes open in search of any unusual movement. He was finally ready to testify against the biggest gangster the city had ever known since Ducky Duciano. He would have been extremely fearful except for the wand he had tucked up his sleeve.

He had changed a little every day he had waited for the trial to begin. He was afraid of what Fat Kat would do to get him, but it wasn’t crippling like it had been at first. He was almost another cat entirely.

***

Felina Furr never liked New Yak City. She had lived in the city when her team first started, but now Los Antelopes was her home.

She walked toward a small shop off a side street, keeping her hand on her Magic Wanda in her handbag. It was leading her toward something at her destination, and she wondered what was going on.

***

Matt Mouser looked around the lobby of the courthouse. Spotting a sign pointing to his courtroom, he headed that way and pushed on the wooden door.

He realized he was in trouble as soon as he stepped through that door. No courtroom existed where he had been brought. Instead, a wide, open plain under a red sky stretched on for miles in any direction.

“Hello, Mr. Mouser,” said a smooth voice from behind Matt. “I will be your assassin today.”

Matt jumped forward and turned to confront his attacker. He wasn’t surprised to find a cat in a purple dress and head gear. The guy was smiling hugely, like he’d had a good dinner.

“My name is Feline Faust,” said the cat. “Time for your death, Mr. Mouser.”

“Faust?” said Matt. “I know you. Captain Carrot’s crew put you in jail for wearing an eyesore in public.”

“What did you say?” said the assassin, swelling up in his anger.

“I said goodbye,” finished Matt, slapping his wand, which tapped against his other arm, as he thought about the lobby of the courthouse.

He popped out of Faust’s strange limbo back to his normal reality. Another wand tap, and he was garbed in his black costume, ready to do battle with the villainous villain as Ala-Kat-Zam. Matt looked around quickly, familiarizing himself with the coming battlefield.

***

Felina Furr felt a surge of energy through her system. She pulled a black wand from her purse, and a flash of light garbed her in the battle dress of her alter ego, Alley-Kat-Abra. She pointed Wanda into the air and took flight. Something was going on that needed her attention.

Suddenly, part of the courthouse blew out into the air. She waved her wand, and two giant hands caught the debris and placed it on the ground below. It wasn’t exactly what she expected, but it was trouble.

***

Matt Mouser stood ready. He had narrowly avoided a powerful blast that had ripped a hole out of the wall. Now he saw that Faust was unleashing something else.

A tornado erupted and charged Matt with a ferocious howl. He tapped the floor with his wand, and the granite tiles jumped, sending the whirling enemy into the ceiling. A tunnel quickly appeared as the thing dug through to the next floor.

A feminine figure appeared in the hole in the wall and waved her own wand at Faust from across the room. “Feline Faust?” shouted Alley-Kat-Abra. “Shouldn’t you be wasting away the hours in a jail cell on Earth-C-Minus right now?”

“Everyone needs a vacation once in awhile,” said Feline Faust, frowning at the sudden opposition. All he had wanted to do was kill Matt Mouser. Instead, the informer had escaped the trap, and these meddlers were here to cramp his style. Time to deal out some pain.

Casually deflecting the bolt from Abra with a wave of a hand, Faust brought both hands together in the one-thousand clapping hands spell. A thunder and vibration hit the two heroes like a jackhammer, slamming them to the ground.

Matt tried to clear his head from the thunderous blow he had received. He tapped the floor, and that lifted him in a wave, carrying him along in a mad flurry.

Ala-Kat-Zam scooped up Alley-Kat-Abra as he was flung through the hole in the wall to freedom. He tapped his boots so that they would absorb the impact. Then he tapped himself, willing the hesitant birds he saw waiting for him to pass out. Then he tapped his burden awake. Maybe she would have some idea how to confront Faust.

As the swashbuckling sorcerer tried to regroup, Feline Faust recited a rhyme accompanied by grand gestures. A diagram of color leaped from his own piece of wood and struck the two heroes.

Ala-Kat-Zam found himself alone in a void of darkness. He almost lost his wand in his surprise.

Meanwhile, Alley-Kat-Abra was trussed to a giant tree as big as a world. Beetles with smiley faces approached with clicking mandibles.

Matt Mouser felt the heat from his body leech away. He knew he had seconds to act. He tapped himself with his wand.

He popped from the nothingness to the courthouse. He found both enemy and new ally gone, and he frowned as he considered his options. He decided he needed to locate the wizardress from the Zoo Crew. So he needed something he could use to search for her.

His televison came to mind. It could be the perfect crystal ball, with some adjustment.

***

Elsewhere, Felina Furr tried to wiggle out of the grasp of the tree that held her. That was a bust. The beetles were almost in touching range.

Felina tried to point her Magic Wanda at the wood. She willed a beam of light to cut her free, and the beetles paused as she took flight, cape waving in a slight breeze.

She drew a circle in the air. In the middle of the glowing sketch, the courthouse beckoned to her. She stepped through, relieved to be home.

“Fancy seeing you again,” said her new ally, grinning ear to ear.

“Where’s Faust?” asked Felina, looking around at the wreckage caused by the fight.

“Flown the coop,” said Matt. He spotted local police running to the scene. “I have to go.”

“Wait,” said Felina. “How do I contact you?”

“What do you mean?” said Matt. “You are out of it. Stay out.”

Ala-Kat-Zam tapped himself with the wand and teleported away. He changed into his civilian clothes and made his way back.

Matt Mouser reported to the courtroom where he was supposed to testify. The judge had ordered a continuance until another day. He frowned at the thought of waiting for Faust to take another shot at him in the meantime. Time to put his idea into play to hunt the dress-wearing loon down.

Walking out of the courthouse toward a nearby subway entrance, he made sure to check for other familiar faces as he went. No way was he leading Fat Kat’s minions to his hideaway. It was the one place he felt safe in. He wasn’t going to give that up for the overweight mobster. Even a superhero needed somewhere to live.

***

Alley-Kat-Abra flew away after answering the questions from the police. She gave them the number of the Z-Building so that they could get in touch when they needed her. She hovered over the area, scanning for Feline Faust or the other magician. Neither seemed in evidence.

Felina decided a little meditation would help her search. She headed for her hotel and the aids she had in her baggage. She would get to the bottom of this mess and extract a certain satisfaction from Faust.

She opened the window of her room and floated in, then changed into her karate gi before making preparations for looking for her new enemy.

***

Matt Mouser reached his building without incident. Stepping into an alley beside the brownstone, he waited for any attack and was glad none came.

He tapped the brick wall, and he was sucked through to his apartment. He tapped the inner wall, cutting off contact with the outside world. He didn’t want Feline Faust finding him in the same way he expected him to use. He then went to the refrigerator and fixed a plate of sandwiches to eat before he tried out his idea. All this manipulation made a man hungry.

Matt sat down on his couch, put his feet on a stool, and ate while flipping channels with the remote. He settled on a baseball game from out of Kornsas. It was amazing what you could do with a magic wand and a desire to watch sports in real time.

Finishing his meal, Matt got up once in the seventh inning to get a couple of canned sodas to drink. As soon as the game was over, he would have to get to work.

After Matt watched the end of the game, he walked over and tapped the top of the television set. The picture changed to one of a fat cat in a slick suit shouting into the camera. Matt gave the set another little tap, and the picture shifted ninety degrees. The fat guy was shouting at a certain mystical feline in a dress.

Matt smiled. He felt refreshed and ready to rumble. He changed clothes again. Time to make a house call as Ala-Kat-Zam, he decided with a wide grin.

Tapping the screen again, he poited from his apartment, appearing behind Feline Faust just like he planned.

***

Felina Furr sat in her hotel room, her meditation aids on the floor beside her. She breathed the burning incense deeply, and she held Wanda in her hand, the tip glowing in its familiar starburst way.

The piece of wood rotated on its own accord as Felina concentrated on her quarry. A glowing arrow leaped in the air. Felina smiled.

Garbing herself in her costume again, Alley-Kat-Abra flew out of the window, following the arrow toward a townhouse in the rich part of the town.

***

Matt Mouser wasted no time. He tapped Faust on the back even as Fat Kat opened his mouth to say some warning. Faust turned, face dark with anger.

Faust made a gesture, said a rhyme. Nothing happened. He looked down at his hands, looking betrayed by himself.

Matt smiled. His plan had worked perfectly. He tapped Faust again, and the mage flew through a window in a blur.

***

Alley-Kat-Abra saw her quarry hit the ground hard. She landed lightly to one side. Feline Faust tried to work another spell. Again nothing happened.

“That’s too bad,” said Abra. “I had hoped to match you spell for spell. I guess instead I’m just going to have to do something else.”

Faust got up and tried to run, but a hand on the collar of his robe drew him up short. Then his head slammed him against the ground while his legs swooped through the air. Felina brought a foot down to let Faust hear the little birds sing.

Ala-Kat-Zam hopped through the window and smiled at the sight of his beautiful colleague. “Fancy meeting a kitten like you in a place like this,” he said.

***

Ala-Kat-Zam and Alley-Kat-Abra watched as Fat Kat told the cops that Feline Faust had been there to rob him. Faust backed the story up. Matt Mouser shook his head, turned away, and walked from the scene.

“Don’t worry,” Felina Furr said, walking beside him. “He’ll slip up some time.”

“I hope so,” said Matt. “I don’t want to have to face a lot of hired guns before that happens.”

“You’ll do fine,” said Felina. “Good luck.” She took to the air.

Matt smiled and tapped himself home.

The End

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Plop!

The Lecture

by Dave Barnowski

An old joke gets new life as Cain questions the audience at a lecture on the supernatural.

***

Cain ben Adam was well known as a master storyteller and an expert on the supernatural and the occult. Today he was a guest lecturer at the Central City University speaking on the topic of ghosts one Halloween night. The auditorium was filled with well over three hundred students, faculty, and guests who were mesmerized with the man’s talk, as Cain was a master orator.

He was at the end of his discussion when he asked the audience a series of questions. The first one was, “How many of you have ever heard a ghost? Please raise your hands and keep them up until I count you all.” Cain counted the hands and then thanked the audience for their patience.

“I counted one hundred and seventeen of you, which is about thirty-three percent.” Cain smiled as he continued, “That percentage is consistent with the general population and the numbers I come up with whenever I give these little talks — between twenty-eight and thirty-five percent.”

Next, Cain asked if anyone in the audience had ever seen a ghost, as the process was repeated. Cain counted seventy-eight hands, which he said was about twenty-five percent of the audience and was consistent with what he normally found.

He then asked if anyone had ever conversed with a ghost, and thirty-two hands rose up. Again, Cain said this percentage of about fifteen percent was within the normal parameters of what he had found over the years.

The brown-haired man then smiled as he said, “I now ask this question, as I do at every seminar on ghosts that I speak at. I have to tell you that no one has ever positively responded to this question, but I have to ask it. Has anyone here ever had intercourse with a ghost?”

There was a murmur of laughter from the audience at the question, and Cain saw that the answer to his question was again no. Then he saw a hand rise up timidly from the back of the audience. Cain’s heart rose as he asked the elderly man to come forward.

The man needed to use a walker, and he was obviously very frail. He wore two hearing aids and had to be helped out of his chair. Cain could see that the man would never be able to climb the stairs to the stage, and so he went down to meet him as the audience gave the old man a standing ovation.

Cain was buoyant as he looked forward to this conversation. He waited impatiently as the elderly man came down the aisle to the front of the stage. When he finally arrived, Cain couldn’t contain himself by starting with simple questions like what the man’s name was or where he came from. Instead, Cain asked the man directly, “Please tell us, sir, what it was like having intercourse with a ghost?”

The man said, “Eh? What did you say, son? Speak up — I’m hard of hearing.”

Cain smiled at the elderly man and raised his voice as he again asked, “What was it like having intercourse with a ghost?”

The old man looked at Cain incredulously as he said, “Ghost? I thought you said goat.”

The End

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Plop!

Welcome to Gotham City!

by HarveyKent

A pamphlet from the local Chamber of Commerce is usually a fairly ordinary, boring, and even mind-numbing piece of literature. But one from Gotham City’s Chamber of Commerce? Now that’s a different story.

***

WELCOME TO GOTHAM CITY!

Hello, and welcome to the busiest little city on Earth! If you’ve received this special pamphlet from the Gotham City Chamber of Commerce, you have recently applied for a new business license to operate in Gotham City.

Let me be the first to say Thank You for choosing Gotham, and welcome to our city! I’m sure you’ll enjoy many years of prosperity and some of the friendliest clientele in the world!

On the other side of the coin, you’ve probably already heard stories about the criminal situation in Gotham. Well, I’m sure we all know how such stories can snowball and get out of hand as they’re passed from one teller to another. Conversely, all tall tales have some basis in fact.

Does Gotham City have crime? Yes, it does. So does Chicago, New York, Miami, and probably Podunk, Iowa. Gotham’s crimes  just tend to get a little more press coverage because our criminals tend to be more imaginative and creative than most (just another example of why Gotham is such a fun place to live!).

New merchants should, of course, take sensible precautions to prevent becoming victims of crime in this or any other city. In many cities, such actions take special, localized forms. In Gotham City, we strongly recommend using discretion when naming your business. For example:

• Do not give your business a name that in any way evokes playing cards, clowns, comedy, or the opera Il Pagliacci.
• Do not have the name of a bird in your business, be it living, extinct, or mythological.
• Do not have the number 2 in your business name (you will notice that there are no 2s in any address numbers in the downtown business district; this is covered in the handbook you will receive shortly). Likewise, do not use any words with any reference to two: half, double, twin, et cetera.
• Do not have the word cat or the name of any kind of feline in your business name. This extends to the larger members of the feline order, such as lions, tigers, leopards, et cetera.
• Do not have any references to cold, snow, or the Arctic.
• If you’re planning to open a hat store, might we suggest scenic Metropolis?

If you have any questions, or if you’d like a copy of our free educational video, Saints, Commissioner! A Guide To Gotham City’s Outré Outlaws, please feel free to call 555-1939, extension 27, during regular business hours.

And once again, Welcome to Gotham City!

The End

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Plop!

Conversations of Doom

by Martin Maenza and Starsky Hutch 76

What happens when Solomon Grundy and Bizarro — the two stupidest members of the Legion of Doom — sit next to each other for too long? Conversations of Doom, that’s what.

***

On the road to pull a job, the Legion of Doom sits in their ship. Sadly, two of the members once again find themselves next to one another.

Solomon Grundy: Grundy like apples.

Bizarro: Bizarro like apples too.

Grundy: Grundy like pears, also.

Bizarro: Bizarro, too. Bizarro can eat pears all day.

Sinestro, leaning over the seat: Would you two shut up?!

Bizarro: Bizarro find pears tasty.

Grundy: Pears give Grundy gas.

Bizarro: Pears give Bizarro gas, too. That why me like them.

And then the farting contest starts. PLOP! Both white-faced villains laugh loudly.

Bizarro: Why Toyman look green?

The jester-costumed villain falls forward, having the unfortunate luck of having to sit behind these two.

Grundy: Hmmm, Grundy smell something.

Bizarro: Sniff sniff. Bizarro don’t, too. What could it be?

Grundy: Grundy thinks it’s Giganta. She got a big odor.

Bizarro: Why Giganta got big odor, Grundy?

Grundy: Grundy think it girl thing.

Bizarro: Hey, Giganta! You got girl thing?

Grundy: Sometimes Giganta no get that so-fresh feeling.

WHOMPPPP! The villainess slaps the two idiots upside the head and returns to normal size. After their heads clear, the pair decide to head up to the front of the ship.

Grundy: Hey, Luthor — why you not use big brain and find way to grow hair?

Bizarro: Yeah, no understand. You like chrome look?

Grundy: Hey, his head match the Legion of Doom base. Big and round.

Bizarro: Hmm… Maybe that why he no grow hair.

Luthor zaps them once with his blaster. ZAAAAP! The two refuse to heed the warning shot.

Bizarro: Hey, Luthor. You know what most annoying noise in the world am?

Together: GNANNNNNNNNAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!

Luthor, holding his skull: Guys! Guys!

Grundy: Him mean. Me bet if him had hair he not be so mean.

Bizarro: Why can him build doomsday weapons but not cure baldness?

Grundy: Him want to look like Kojak?

Bizarro: Heh-heh. Who loves you, baby?

Grundy: Har. Good one, Bizarro.

The ship screeches to a halt. The side door opens, and two large figures are tossed out onto the side of the road. The door slams shut, and the ship barrels off.

Grundy: Hmmph. Why we get kicked off ship?

Bizarro: Bizarro not know.

Grundy: What we do now?

Bizarro: Hmm… Maybe we call Blockbuster. He fun to talk with.

Grundy: Yeah. Him smart.

The End

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Plop!

A Day in the Life of the Crisis

by Doc Quantum of the Time Trust

When a large group of second-string characters gather in the same place, each told that they would find something they sought under a looming black cloud by the mysterious Wolf-Man of Earth-Prime, they can’t help but begin to wonder if they’ve been set up. And just how many ways can Immortal Man die, anyway?

***

Kole: Hey, what’s that big black shadow overhead?

Dove: I don’t know. Who cares? Want to hear some of my ‘beat poetry’?

Immortal Man: Hi, guys, what’s up?

BAM! Immortal Man suddenly gets killed by a falling meteor. A minute later, he reappears in a brand-new body.

Immortal Man: Damn that hurt!

Bug-Eyed Bandit: Hey, put your hands up, all you heroes, you!

Clayface: Yeah, we want all of Kole’s jewelry and Immortal Man’s ancient mystical gem — don’t make us go all medieval on your asses!

Suddenly, Starman III (the one from a distant planet) comes in and starts spouting what sounds like gibberish, but is really his native language.

Starman III: )(*W&$#Q*^$%Q#%@^#%&^@%)(@#^$%_^%#)(*@^#%)(@*#^%_ %^*#%(!!!

Dove: Hey, watch it, potty-mouth! You kiss your mother with those lips?

Immortal Man suddenly rushes the two villains, but is shot by another couple of villains who suddenly arrive: Alexei Luthor of Earth-2 and Psimon. He dies and comes back in a new body a few seconds later.

Immortal Man: $#!^! Do you have any idea how much dying hurts? Man…

Luthor of Earth-2: All right, put your hands up, this is a robbery! We want this Starman’s staff and Immortal Man’s ancient mystical gem!

Psimon: Yes. Do as he says. We are indubitabuble geniuseseseses. Damn my stutter…

Tula (Aqualad’s girlfriend): Hey, fellow Teen Titans, what’s up?

Kole: We’re being robbed, apparently.

Tula: Oh, cool. Well, I’m completely useless this far from the water, so rob away!

Dove: Thank you for your help.

Immortal Man is suddenly hit by a car and is killed. Three villains jump out of the car, pointing their weapons at the heroes, while noting the other villains’ presence.

Mirror Master: Hey, what are you guys doing here?

The Icicle: Yes, we were planning on robbing these helpless heroes of their riches!

Maaldor the Darklord: Yes, their immortal souls! Bwa-ha-ha-haaaaaaaaaa!

As if on cue, Immortal Man returns from the dead in a completely new body once more.

Immortal Man: @%#&ing hell! I am so sick of getting killed and resurrected all the time! What is up with that?

The Green Arrow of Earth-2 suddenly comes in and sees the villains surrounding the heroes.

Green Arrow of Earth-2: Hey, what’s going on here?

The villains: It’s a robbery!

Green Arrow of Earth-2: Oh, well, I give up. All I can do is shoot trick arrows, anyways. Heh-heh. By all means, take my money!

Suddenly, a buzzing noise in the air begins as the sound like the transporter from Star Trek rematerializes Kid Psycho — the reserve member of the Legion of Super-Heroes from the 30th Century — into the group of heroes and villains.

Kid Psycho: Hello, 20th Century Earthlings! I am Kid Psycho from the future. Every time I use my telekinetic power, I take one year off of my life! So how are you all doing?

Immortal Man: We should talk.

Immortal Man is suddenly pierced through his chest by a green power beam, and dies.

Dove: Green Lantern?

Power Ring of Earth-3: No. I am Power Ring of the Crime Syndicate of Earth-3. And these are my associates — Ultraman, Super-Woman, Johnny Quick, and Owlman.

Ultraman: Hi.

Super-Woman: Hello.

Johnny Quick: Hey, folks.

Owlman: Greetings.

Immortal Man is suddenly resurrected in a new body, and he groans loudly.

Immortal Man: Crap. So let me guess: this is a robbery?

Power Ring: Hey, how’d you–?

Alexander Luthor of Earth-3: So there you are, you pesky Crime Syndicate, you! I’ve come to take you to justice! Oh, hello there, Luthor of Earth-2, my evil counterpart — how are you this fine dark day?

Alexei Luthor of Earth-2: Hello, my good counterpart! We’re in the middle of a robbery here.

Suddenly, half of the Guardians of the Universe show up.

Guardians of the Universe: Hello. We have come as we were summoned to. And we have brought pamphlets with us.

They hand out the pamphlets to all those present. The title: “SO YOU WANT TO BE A GREEN LANTERN? 10 things you should know first.”

As if on cue, a group of Green Lanterns show up, led by Tomar-Re.

Tomar-Re: Guardians?! What are you doing here?

Guardians: We were under the impression that there were some new recruits present.

Tomar-Re: First I’ve heard about it. Anyway, we’re back from our assignment in time and space.

Guardians: Uh… what assignment?

The Green Lanterns “beam” in several people from the past.

A group of grizzled soldiers from all types of American military pop up, as does a western-type gunfighter from the Old West.

Johnny Cloud: Hey guys, we’re, uh… y’know… we’re the Losers.

Captain Storm: Yeah, but don’t get thrown off by the name.

Gunner: The Losers wasn’t my choice for a name. Me’n th’ Sarge, here, wanted to be called Gunner and the Sarge and their Howling Commandoes, but did anyone else want to hear of it? NooOOOOooooo…

Sarge: Shut up, Gunner.

Pooch: Woof! Woof!

Nighthawk: Walllll, I’ll be plum-danged ten times this Sunday, if I ain’t in the feeyoooture! Nighthawk’s the name, and fighting outlaws’s muh game! Yee-hawwww!

Nighthawk shoots off a round of gunshots, and one hits Immortal Man in the head.

Immortal Man, 2 minutes later: AAAAARGGH!

Dove: Hey, what are you guys all doing here, anyway?

Green Arrow of Earth-2: I heard of a rumor of some kind of werewolf haunting this piece of land.

Tula: Hey, dude! That’s what I heard, too! Except I thought it was more like a wolf-man.

Dove: Werewolf, wolfman, same difference.

Starman III: (Q#&%Q*#&%*@&#%@#%^)@(#$^%)(@^#%)(^@#(%^Wolfman(*Q#&%@*#^%)(@^#

Dove: Do you want me to wash your mouth out with soap? I will, y’know!

Luthor of Earth-2: I believe you have heard wrong, foolish heroes. The great villain of Earth-Prime, Wolf-Man, revealed to us that riches could be found at this very spot, at this very time.

Marv Wolfman: Hey, guys, so you’re all here! Great.

All: Huh?

Marv Wolfman: Oh, waitasec, I don’t see Supergirl or the Flash here, but I guess their time is coming soon enough, anyway. Too bad I couldn’t have tossed in a few more. Oh, well, there’s always Zero Hour. Ta!

Kole, Dove, Immortal Man, the Bug-Eyed Bandit, Clayface, Starman III, Luthor of Earth-2, Psimon, Tula, the Icicle, Maaldor the Darklord, Mirror Master, Green Arrow of Earth-2, Kid Psycho, Power Ring, Ultraman, Super-Woman, Johnny Quick, Owlman, Alexander Luthor of Earth-3, Johnny Cloud, Captain Storm, Gunner & Sarge, Pooch, Nighthawk, half the Guardians of the Universe, and a few Green Lanterns led by Tomar-Re suddenly look up as the black cloud they saw earlier looms closer and closer.

Immortal Man: We’re all going to die!

Green Arrow of Earth-2: Way to state the obvious.

Kole: Hey, how come when we die, we get maybe one panel showing our deaths, but when Supergirl and the Flash die, they get immortalized on the covers?

Robin of Earth-2 and the Huntress swoop in.

Robin of Earth-2: Hey, what the hell are we doing? There’s a damned meteor or something coming down on us.

The Huntress, tearing off her clothes: Oh, well, don’t let me die a virgin, Dick!

Robin of Earth-2: Mmm… OK. (Forgive me, Bruce!)

Robin of Earth-2 and the Huntress begin tearing off each other’s clothes and passionately make love. The others see this and decide to do the same with the moments they have left.

Bug-Eyed Bandit: Clayface, I’ve always loved you.

Clayface: Fwuh?

Immortal Man: Heh-heh-heh. They don’t know what they’re in for. Won’t they be sorry when they’re all dead, and I come back in a new body?

Marv Wolfman, from a distance: Oh, Im-mor-tal Maaaan…

Immortal Man: Yeah, Marv? What’s up?

Marv Wolfman: Sorry, pal, but your number’s up. We threw some anti-matter in that big black thing, which will kill your immortal soul permanently.

Immortal Man: Wha–? But, but…

Marv Wolfman: Don’t worry. In ten years you’ll come back as Mitch Shelley, the Resurrection Man, and everyone will have forgotten about you. Ta!

Immortal Man: Damn you, Wolf-Man! Dam yo–

PLOP!

The End

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Ala-Kat-Zam

Screaming Wheels

by CSyphrett

When gigantic metal-rimmed wheels begin destroying buildings and even whole neighborhoods, Matt Mouser, alias the wizard hero Ala-Kat-Zam, steps in to find out why. But can he find the proof linking the destruction to the crime lord Fat Kat before the screaming wheels leave him in the dust?

***

It began with a small rumbling, and then a shaking. Then a huge metal tire roared down the street, careening against buildings and smashing through brick and concrete with ease. Then, like some giant phantom, it was gone.

Walking down the street the next day, Matt Mouser surveyed the damage with blood in his eye. “First Water Fowl, and now this,” he said. “I wonder if there’s a connection. There’s a lot of damage to the neighborhood in both cases. Maybe Ala-Kat-Zam and his magic wand should look into this.”

Matt started his search by asking around the neighborhoods about anything out of the ordinary. Every place he went, he heard a story about someone wanting to buy the land and buildings at cut-rate prices. It was a start, but he needed to know who was behind the realty company’s offer. It was time for a night time visit to the offices of Birdwell, Howell, and Terrier.

He spent the time until night on the look-out for trouble, and when Matt felt the time was right, he changed into his Ala-Kat-Zam costume and rode a flying skateboard to the roof of the office building. A tap of his magic wand opened the roof door, and the wizard entered. Matt took the stairs to the office he wanted and unlocked the door with another tap. Going to the office computers, he tapped them as well, and the information he wanted slid upward into view on the screen.

“Shazam!” Matt whispered when he saw the name.

Ala-Kat-Zam knew he had a connection between the destruction and a mastermind — all he had to do was prove it. But that would be a whole lot easier said than done. Matt left the office and rode his skateboard home. He had a lot of thinking to do if he wanted to stop all of this.

He changed out of his Ala-Kat-Zam costume for pajamas as he watched TV. A tiny picture in a corner gave a roving view of the surrounding area. Something as big as those wrecking machines would be clearly visible from the roof.

Matt had fallen asleep when a clamor shook his building. He tapped his wand to put him immediately in his costume and then tapped the TV to put himself on the scene swiftly.

Two massive metal wheels bore down on the neighborhood, intent on wrecking other homes. Pausing to consider how to handle the twin attack, Matt tapped the street to send a ribbon zipping along at the dual menaces.

The asphalt ribbon sprang one of the monster machines into the air. The other rolled out of the way and rammed into an apartment building. The whole brick edifice quivered before it came to pieces in a shower of bricks.

Matt felt anger in a black cloud above his feathered hat. It was time for Ala-Kat-Zam to do something more permanent to these yahoos.

The other wheel landed in a crunch and spun in place. It rolled to a stop on one side of Matt, while the other backed out to line up on the other side. They charged the swashbuckling sorcerer in a cloud of dust and smoke.

Matt waited until the last second and then tapped the road. It zipped him out of the way with a moment to spare. The wheels collided together and jammed helplessly in a great grinding of gears.

Ala-Kat-Zam tapped one monster wheel, then the other with his wand. He stepped back as bolts and rivets sproinged from their places in a small rain. He smiled as two piles of metal descended in a mad rush on the street.

The two pilots looked dumbfounded at the sudden change. They snarled when they saw Matt standing to one side, twirling his wand. They bounced to their feet to express their fury when a single tap wrapped them in a cage of disrupted metal.

“You’ll pay for this, meddler!” snarled one.

“The check is in the mail,” said Ala-Kat-Zam smugly. A roar filled the air then, and a shadow fell on Matt.

He leaped to one side as a wheel twice as big as the other two bore down on him in a cloud of smoke. The wheel smashed the makeshift cage open and then reversed to run the swashbuckling sorcerer down. It missed in a grinding of gears and a spray of asphalt.

The wizard hero tried to think quickly but felt blinded by panic as the giant wheel chased after him like a wuz-wolf. He tapped the pile of concrete, and it flew at the wheel in a barrage. The metal monster ground the masonry underfoot as it continued to charge. He was doomed.

Matt Mouser had always been a quick thinker, however. He knew exactly what he had to do as the monstrous wheel bore down on him, and he slammed his wand into the asphalt. The street bunched up into a ramp pointing straight up. That wasn’t the end of the spell, the pilot of the wheel discovered, as the whole metallic marauder vanished in a rainbow ribbon of light and the tones of a xylophone. Seconds later, the wheel crashed back into the pavement with a roar and a ka-blam.

Shaking the cloud of dust from his eyes, he couldn’t at first see as the lesser villains tried to flee in surprised realization that their chief lay defeated amidst a pile of ripped-up road and metal.

Ala-Kat-Zam tapped his surroundings and watched everything begin to repair itself. The wrecked wheels stacked up against a building with a cloud of zipping bricks and workings putting itself back together. The pilots ran off while Matt was directing the massive reconstruction like a orchestra conductor.

He let them go after tapping a pair of shoes he had found laying amidst the wreckage. The footwear took off at a run after the leader of the wrecking wheels. They would come back when the lizard had settled in some kind of hiding place. Then Matt would have to talk the demolitionist into trading his boss for freedom and stopping all of this vandalism. He knew it wouldn’t be easy, but there must be something in his bag of tricks to help justice along.

That was for later. Some square blocks of apartments needed to be repaired. Injuries needed to be tended. Being a hero was a lot harder than it looked from the outside. “Shazam! How does the Zoo Crew do this day in and day out?” he asked himself.

Matt Mouser walked from one end of the wreckage to the other. Everywhere he went, things righted themselves with a tap of his magical wand. After an hour, the work was done. The last few pieces floated back into place as he dusted his hands. Luckily, no one had been killed in the rampage. Matt didn’t want to find out if he could raise the dead the hard way.

The empty shoes returned and waited for Matt’s attention. He tapped a piece of metal from one of the wrecked wheels, and it formed into a floating disk to carry him to his destination. The phantom walker led the way.

Floating after the animated shoes, Matt felt tired from all of the energy he expended on repairing the buildings. The shoes led to an apartment building across the city, and he let his conveyance settle to the ground. He stepped into a nearby alley and took several deep breaths to calm his nerves.

This gave the wizard an idea. He tapped his mouth with the wand and took a deep breath, then felt slightly better. He continued until he was up to par again. Now to grab a flock of felons.

Ala-Kat-Zam walked into the building, looking for his animated footwear. He found the shoes waiting for him in front of a door on the fifth floor. Listening at the door, he heard some movement and low voices. It seemed the lizard leader was reporting to an upset boss. Time to upset him more, the wand wielder decided.

Matt tapped the door and smiled as it became transparent. He jumped through the suddenly porous door, and his sudden appearance frightened the drivers into momentary stillness. He pressed his advantage by jumping forward and tapping one of the hench hounds on the shoulder. The hound howled as his shirt wrapped around him tighter than a straitjacket.

The other henchman leaped forward with a squawk as the lizard’s eyes about popped out. Someone’s querulous voice demanding answers could be heard. Ala-Kat-Zam ducked his frightened foe and tapped him on the chest. The henchhawk’s overalls suddenly expanded like a ballon. He floated above the floor, kicking his limbs unsuccessfully. Matt held up a clawed hand.

“Don’t do it!” shouted the bird.

Matt brought his claws down and poked a hole in the inflated coveralls. The driver slammed into the wall with the sudden release of air. Little song notes floated around his head as Matt turned to deal with the last one, but he saw that the lizard had escaped.

Ala-Kat-Zam ran for the window, the only quick escape route other than the bedroom door. The lizard was dashing down the metal fire escape with a cloud of dust. The driver jumped the last twenty feet.

Matt grabbed the rail and tapped the metal. In an instant, he was hanging from a descending ladder. He dropped into the alley as the lizard ran out of the entrance. Matt ran after him.

A loud screeeeeech with ka-thumpa flew to the hero’s ears as he paused at the mouth of the alley. The lizard lay face down in the street. Matt could tell he was no longer alive, even from a distance.

Matt talked to the bystanders. The lizard had run out into the street in front of a delivery truck, and the driver couldn’t stop in time. The wizard picked a telephone receiver up over protests and inquiries of what was going on. He dialed 9-1-1 and gave the police the rundown on what happened in rhyming verse.

He walked away, leaving the hirelings trussed up for the policemen. He knew that the lizard was the only link, and it was gone with the scream of smoking wheels. He would have to find another way to bring Fat Kat to justice.

The End

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