The Brave and the Bold: Green Arrow and Mister Miracle

Sideshow Lowdown

by Martin Maenza

The bell above the door of the Pretty Bird Flower Shoppe jangled as it opened. Oliver Queen, dressed in a pair of dark slacks and a white turtle neck sweater, entered the florist shop with a large, full green duffel bag slung over his shoulder.

Dinah Lance was working on an arrangement behind the counter when she looked up and noticed his arrival. “Hey there, you,” the brunette woman said. “Heading out to do some laundry?”

The blonde haired man smiled as he approached, his facial gesture causing his mustache to turn up. “Nothing like that, baby,” he said, setting the bag down. “Just wanted to drop by in person to let you know I’ll be out of town and out of touch for awhile.”

Dinah’s mood changed drastically, and she snipped off some of the excess leaves from the flowers with some shears. “Oh really,” she said flatly. “How long are you going to be gone?”

“Can’t really say for sure.”

She snipped again. “What’s the trip for?”

“It’s kind of personal business.”

“Personal? Huh.” She snipped again, this time taking off the top of one of the flowers. She tried to compose herself, putting the shears down on the counter. “Just how personal?”

Oliver approached her. “It’s something I can’t talk about right now,” he said as he reached for her arm. Dinah jerked it away suddenly. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

Dinah glanced around the shop and saw a few customers still mulling around the display cases. She was trying her best not to make a scene but really felt like she had to speak her mind. She spun around quickly and pushed the man towards the back room. “We need to talk privately, now!” she said.

“What gives, pretty bird?” Oliver Queen asked as he almost stumbled backwards.

Once in the back room, Dinah did her best to talk in a whisper, a loud one. “Don’t ‘pretty bird’ me, Oliver Queen! You come in here, acting all mysterious, and refuse to tell me where you’re going off to, and you expect me to be all nice about it.”

“It’s just a little personal business is all,” he said in his defense.

“Sure it is,” Dinah replied. “And I bet it has something to do with Connor Hawke, right?”

Oliver Queen blinked. “Connor Hawke? You mean that kid from the future who claimed–”

She finished his sentence. “–to be your son. Exactly! Don’t lie to me about this. You’re heading off to find Moonday Hawke, aren’t you? You want to see if she has a son named Connor, to see if the future he came from could actually come true.”

Oliver Queen was speechless for once. Then he started to chuckle.

“What’s so funny?” Dinah exclaimed.

“You are,” he said. “Green’s usually my color. I’ve never seen you so jealous.”

Dinah was so angry. She felt like slapping him.

“Hey, Dinah, sweetie,” he said. “You need to relax. You’re getting worked up over nothing.” She put her hands on her hips in defiance. Ollie could tell she wore the don’t-tell-me-how-to-act look. “Look, I’m sorry to be so secretive about my trip. I was wrong to not tell you about it. This has nothing to do with Connor or Moonday or anything like that.

“The wife of an old friend contacted me recently. She suspected some foul play involved in the death of her husband, but didn’t know what to do about it. I promised her I’d look into it for her. So that’s why I’ll be out of town without knowing for how long. I’m going to have to do some undercover work on this one.” He raised his open right hand and gently placed it under Dinah Lance’s chin. “You trust me, right?”

Dinah opened her pouting lips. “Yeah, I trust you,” she said softly. She looked up at him, feeling kind of ashamed for her outburst. Ollie smiled at her, and then she smiled back. That single gesture was enough to reassure her that the man loved her with all his heart. Nothing would ever change that. She then gave him a great big hug. “Don’t get in over your head, OK?”

He squeezed her tight. “When do I ever do that?” And they both laughed.

***

Clyde Stock stood aside the train car, looking over the letter of reference. “Haly’s Circus, eh?” The well-built man with thin hair said. He wore dark pants and a white buttoned shirt. “They’re a pretty good outfit.”

“Yes, sir,” said Oliver Queen. He mentally reminded himself to thank Nightwing again for helping with his paperwork.

“Knife thrower, eh?” Stock asked. “I certainly can use one. We lost our last one in a fire a few months back.”

Oliver Queen said nothing, but of course he knew all about that. Juanita Sanchez had told her all about Carlos’ death. The blonde man, however, had no intentions of revealing what he knew.

“Care to give me a demonstration?” asked Stock.

“Gladly,” Ollie said. He removed a rather large switchblade knife from his pocket and flicked it open. “Any requests?”

Stock glanced around, then noticed one of his carnival fliers that had been tacked up to a telephone pole across the train yard. He pointed to it. “How’s about that? Think you can hit that?”

“Works for me,” Ollie said. He took the knife by the pointed end and tipped it back. Eyeing the poster, he flicked his wrist and let the blade fly. It somersaulted through the air at great speed.

A black haired man stepped out in the path of the blade. Stock noticed and yelled out. “Freeman, move!” At the last second, the young man dropped to the ground out of the deadly path. The blade slammed into the telephone pole.

Ollie and Clyde Stock rushed over to the young man as he rose from the ground. “Freeman, you OK?” the owner asked.

“Of course,” the man replied. “You know me: quick reflexes.”

Clyde Stock smiled. “Good, good. While you’re here, let me introduce you. Freeman Scott, this here’s Oswald Kingsley. Oswald, Freeman here is one of our daredevils.”

Freeman extended his hand. “Pleasure to meet you, Oswald,” he said.

Oliver Queen shook his hand. “Call me, Ozzie.”

Stock examined the poster on the telephone pole; the knife point hit dead center in the first ‘O’ in the Stock’s Shows logo. The man then pulled out the knife, closed the blade and handed it back to its owner. “Well, Freeman, looks like we found us a new knife thrower. The job’s yours if you want it, Mr. Kingsley.”

Oliver Queen smiled. He was in. “When do we hit the rails?”

***

For the first few weeks or so, Oliver Queen found it difficult to adjust to a life he was not readily used to. The traveling carnival and sideshow stopped at a few towns in the Midwest, places like Atchison, Kansas, and Beatrice, Nebraska. Ollie spent a good bit of time traveling the country a few years back with Hal Jordan, but the two adventures ceased being similar right there.

The crowds at the shows were always pretty good, but it wasn’t all the thrill of the performance. Those who worked the acts also had to assist with the unloading, setting up, taking down and reloading of equipment. That on top of hours of practice, very little privacy and the off-chance of getting both a decent meal and shower in the same day added to the crazy experience. Whoever thought that running away to the circus could be so hard?

About the time Clyde Stock came around to give him his first paycheck, the owner also presented his new knife thrower with some paperwork to be signed. “What’s this?” Ollie asked in a rather naive manner.

“Nothing to be too concerned about,” Stock replied. “Just some paperwork that I need to keep filed for my employees.” He handed him a pen. “Don’t let any of the big language throw you. It’s just for medical coverage and such. Just sign them on the bottom, Ozzie.”

Ollie had a feeling this was just the type of clue he was looking for. However, he didn’t want to arouse Stock’s suspicion by insisting to read it right now. He took the pen, and quickly signed it with his false name. “I’ll take your word for it,” he replied. He signed all three in the spots noted and handed them back to Stock.

“Good man,” Clyde Stock said as he slipped them back into a folder. He was about to leave the small compartment when he turned back. “Oh, say, Ozzie. I need you to have a chat with Freeman. I’m thinking maybe you two could work out an act or something. With your great aim and his uncanny reflexes, it could make for some exciting stuff.”

“Sure thing,” Ollie replied. Then Stock left the compartment and closed the door. “Yeah, right.” While Freeman Scott certainly appeared to be a lucky individual, often getting out of dangerous situations at the last minute, the last thing Ollie needed was a reckless showoff in his ‘act’. Knives weren’t exactly the same as arrows; while he was an expert at the later, the former was still something he was trying to master. He had enough skill to pull off his cover, but he didn’t feel like pressing his own luck further.

Besides, he had more important things to think about. Like breaking into Stock’s office and getting his hands on a copy of those forms.

Oliver Queen would have to wait one more day before he’d get his chance at the paperwork.

Clyde Stock played in a weekly poker game on Wednesday nights with some of the roustabouts; Stock figured he could get back a bit of the money he paid them in wages by gambling with them. He left for his game sharply at 10 PM. That would give Ollie a few hours to take care of his own business.

Packed within his travel bag were a number of his trick arrow heads. While a glass cutter or an explosive charge could easily give him entrance to the compartment that served as Stock’s office, they’d also leave an obvious mess. And the last thing Ollie wanted to do was leave evidence of his break-in. He decided to go a more traditional route.

Working with a small wire, Ollie attempted to pick the lock on the door. What I wouldn’t give for Batman’s utility belt right now, he thought. I’m sure he’s got a quick and dirty lock pick in it. After a few more moments, the tumblers clicked, and the knob turned freely. “Bingo!”

Ollie slipped inside the compartment. Stock had left a light on for when he returned later. The hero was happy for that because then he wouldn’t have to scramble around in the darkness. There was a small file cabinet in the corner; naturally it was locked. “Don’t want to mess with that if I don’t have to,” he said to himself quietly. Instead, he went for the desk.

There were a few small piles of paper on it. Mostly invoices for supplies to keep the carnival show moving. A calendar noted the dates for the next cities to be visited. “Oh, boy. Bakersfield next week,” Ollie said dryly.

Ollie went to the drawers of the desk and pulled them open. The bottom drawer to the left contained a number of hanging folders. “What do we have here?” Pulling them out one at a time, he flipped through the contents. Eventually he hit upon the items he was seeking.

Removing a very small camera from his pocket, Ollie took pictures of the pages of many of the documents. They were the waiver forms that Stock made the employees sign, waivers that basically named Stock as beneficiary to any life insurance payouts due to on the job accidents. He even found the one he himself signed the other day. “That should do it.”

Ollie returned the folder back to its proper place, closed the drawers and prepared to leave the office. He had the evidence he needed to support the claim that Clyde Stock was benefiting from the accidents. Now all he would have to do is catch the man in the act of one such accident.

Oliver Queen locked the compartment door behind him, hopped down from the step and started back down the line to his own car. Trying to act as casual as possible, he began to whistle lightly. As he passed the gap between cars, a voice called out to him, “Nice night for a stroll, eh?”

Ollie whirled back around, startled. “Who the…?”

From the shadows between the car merged a familiar figure. “Relax, Ozzie, it’s just me,” said Freeman Scott. The dark haired man hopped down and stepped into the light.

“You startled me, Scott,” Ollie said.

“You must be more careful when sneaking around at night,” Freeman said with a smile. “Of course, I’m sure I don’t have to remind you of that. You’re an expert at this covert stuff.”

Ollie cocked his head slightly. “What are you getting at?”

“Oh, don’t be coy with me, Ozzie.” He emphasized the name, almost to imply an unspoken ‘if-that-is-your-name’. “I know a professional when I see one.”

Ollie didn’t like the way the conversation was going, but he played ignorant. “What’re you talking about, man? You’re crazy.”

Freeman just smiled more. He was enjoying the game. “You can drop the act. I’ve got a great eye for detail, very few things escape me. And while I haven’t been around as long as you, I definitely don’t consider myself green.” He emphasized the last word then gave him a wink.

Ollie rushed Freeman. “Look, buddy. I don’t know what you think you know, but you’re barking up the wrong tree.”

Suddenly, a loud voice interrupted the discussion. “Hey! What’s going on here?” It was Clyde Stock, accompanied by a couple of rather large guys. “What are you two doing out here?”

The two men glanced at one another, then back at the show’s owner.

“Nothing,” Oliver Queen said quickly.

“Talking,” Freeman Scott said at the same time.

Clyde Stock looked at them both with an inquisitive eye. “Really? Which is it?”

“Talking,” said Queen at the same time Scott said, “Nothing.”

Stock stared at the two men again. “Well, whatever it is, go do it someplace else! Hear?”

“Yes, sir,” Queen said. “C’mon, let’s go!” He pushed the daredevil along, and they headed off down the tracks to another car.

Clyde Stock waited for them to get out of ear shot and then leaned in to the guys with whom he was standing. “Chuck, Dave, keep an eye on those two!” he said. “They looked too suspicious to be up to nothing.” The two large roustabouts nodded.

As they neared the cars that housed the living compartments for the performers, Oliver Queen stopped and pulled Freeman Scott aside. “Hey, I don’t appreciate you gettin’ me in trouble with the boss,” Queen said.

The black haired daredevil smiled. “Oh, I’m certain you can handle someone like him,” Freeman said.

Ollie’s face began to turn red. He was quickly losing patience with the man. He grabbed Freeman Scott by the collar, but he then remembered his mission and quickly let him go. “Forget it!” he said as he started to walk off.

Freeman ran after him. “Wait a minute, wait,” he said, cutting in front of the blonde man. “Look, I’m sorry about that. I was just having some fun with you. Come on back to my compartment. I’ve got something to show you.”

Oliver Queen stopped for a moment and raised one eyebrow. “Sorry, kid, I’ve got a lot to think about right now.” And with that, he continued on his way to the car where his own compartment was.

***

The last performance for the week in this particular town completed, and everyone assisted with the breakdowns as usual. Oliver Queen was doing his share when Freeman Scott approached him.

“Say, Ozzie, got a minute?” Freeman asked.

Ollie was coiling some rope. “Kind of busy right now, kid,” he said. “Don’t you have stuff you need to be tending to?”

“It can keep,” Freeman replied. “You kind of cut me off the other night. I was hoping we could finish our conversation. I think you’d get a lot out of it.”

Ollie was trying not to lose his patience. After all, it was bad enough he had to continue with the charade and put up with this kind of lifestyle. He missed the comforts of his place back in Star City. He especially missed Dinah. Heck, even going a few rounds with Katar on social issues looked good right about now. But this Scott guy had been hovering around him ever since he hooked up with Stock’s Shows; he was relentless.

“So, how about it?” Freeman asked. “Can we talk more in private?”

Ollie exploded. “No! For the last time, no!”

Most of the people in the tent area turned at the outburst. Two of the larger roustabouts had been following the conversation between the two. Chuck turned to Dave and gave him a silent throw of his neck. Dave nodded and took off across the way to alert Mister Stock.

Chuck turned back to watch the two men further. When they left to carry some equipment to one of the supply cars, Chuck followed them. Along the way, he grabbed a piece of metal pipe and carried it along at his side, just in case.

As Chuck arrived at the supply car, there wasn’t anyone else in sight except Ozzie Kingsley and Freeman Scott. Again, Kingsley was arguing with Scott. It was time to put an end to the conversation permanently. The large man snuck up behind the two unnoticed, raised the pipe and brought it down hard on the back of Kingsley’s skull.

***

Oliver Queen finally regained consciousness, and he was startled by his surroundings. It appeared to be one of the train’s box cars, and the train was moving. He tried to rise from the floor, only to realize that his hands and feet had been tied together with some very strong rope.

“Don’t try to escape,” said the voice of Clyde Stock as he stepped from the shadows. “That’s just a waste of effort.” The man looked down upon Ollie with a concerned look on his face.

“What’s going on here?” Ollie asked. “Who attacked me from behind and tied me up?”

Stock bent down and smacked him across the face. “Shut up! You ask a lot of questions, you and your friend! I don’t take kindly to people who are nosy, especially in my business!”

It was then that Oliver Queen realized that Freeman Scott was there too, also tied up. “Whatever you’ve got planned,” Ollie said defiantly, “you won’t get away with it.”

Stock laughed. “Really? Who’s gonna stop me? You two? I doubt that.” Stock gestured to the closed door. Dave and Chuck, the roustabouts, appeared from the shadows and moved over to open the heavy metal door. As they did so, bright morning light and air rushed into the car. The train was moving at a good clip; the telephone poles and landscape rushed by at a blurring rate.

“So you’re gonna throw us off the train,” Ollie said plainly. “How unoriginal.” He tried to work at the ropes binding his hands, but the rope wasn’t about to budge.

Stock smiled. “Normally this isn’t how I like to handle things, but I’m not at all comfortable with you two around,” he said. “Oh, you might survive if I just had you tossed out of the train anywhere. We can’t have that. Luckily, there’s a large trestle in the mountains that we’ll be passing over in a few moments. If the drop isn’t enough to kill you, you’ll end up drowning in the river at the bottom! It’s a perfect place to unload unwanted garbage.”

Chuck and Dave went for Freeman Scott first. One took his legs while the other held the bound man about the shoulders. “You won’t get away with this,” Scott said as he squirmed a bit. The two men merely laughed as they moved him towards the open car door.

The sound of the train on the rails changed slightly as the cars began to cross the great trestle. “On three,” Chuck said to Dave as they began to swing the body. “One. Two. Three.”

On the last count, both men let go. Freeman Scott’s body launched out the door and dropped immediately down out of sight. “No!” screamed Oliver Queen. He didn’t like the man much but felt responsible for the predicament both men were in. He swore to himself that he would avenge Freeman Scott’s death, assuming of course he somehow survived himself.

Chuck and Dave then grabbed the bound blonde man. “End of the line for you, Mr. Kingsley. Bet you would kill for one of your knives right about now?” Stock sneered. “Toss ‘im!”

As Oliver Queen’s body sailed out the open door of the train car, the wind was the first thing to sting his face. He tried to keep his eyes open as he struggled unsuccessfully with his bonds. If I’m going to die this way, I’d like to see it coming, he thought.

As he body plummeted down, it was hard for him not to think about the events of his life. Fate had a strange way of throwing him curve balls. First falling overboard from that ship in the south seas, only to end up on the deserted Starfish Island where he had to learn how to hunt to survive. That lead to him becoming Green Arrow. And then how Dinah came into his life from another Earth, and how the two fell in love. Finally, he thought of how he lost his entire fortune, leading him to claw his way back from financial ruin.

Ollie also thought of Roy Harper, and about how the young man managed to overcome so many obstacles in his young life. From heroine addiction to being a single parent, Roy was a shining example of perseverance and courage. Ollie regretted not telling Roy often enough how proud he was of him.

In a way, Ollie regretted too the fact that he had yet to leave a legacy of his own behind. He and Dinah occasionally talked about settling down and starting a family, but they hadn’t acted upon it yet. Sure, there was Roy, but he was more of a very younger brother to Ollie than a son. He wondered, again, if perhaps the Connor Hawke they had met from the future could in fact be out there somewhere. He’d never know. The ropes still held his hands tight. There was no way he’d be able to save himself at the last moment. A tear began to form in his eye.

Suddenly, Ollie felt a sudden jerk. “Hey, perk up, buddy,” a familiar voice said. Ollie realized that a hand had grabbed him by the back of his belt, slowing his descent.

“What the…?” Turning his head around, Oliver Queen was shocked by what he saw through his squinted eye. Like an angel or something, Freeman Scott was floating in the air, his left hand firmly holding Oliver’s belt. “You? You’re alive. It’s a miracle!”

Freeman Scott smiled back at the man. “Yes, indeed. Miracles are my specialty. Didn’t think you’d get rid of me that easily, did you?”

“But… how?” Ollie asked. “How are you flying?”

Freeman nodded towards his feet. “Aero-Discs.”

“Arrow discs?” Ollie asked.

Freeman laughed. “That’s a good one. Aero as in aeronautical, not arrow which you are used to.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Oh, I think you can drop the pretense now. It’s just you and I out here, Green Arrow.” Ollie’s jaw dropped at Freeman’s words. The dark haired man smiled. “Oh, come now. The perfect aim, the distinct facial hair, the attitude. You may have fooled Stock and his like, but anyone in the business can recognize you even without the mask.”

“Not to sound ungrateful for the rescue and all, but who the hell are you?” Oliver Queen asked.

“I take it Batman never mentioned me to you? He and I worked together a few times in the past. I even met some of your JLA friends once before. I’m actually Scott Free, but you probably know me better by the name of Mister Miracle.”

Ollie shook his head for a second as it started to click. “Mister Miracle, the escape artist. Yeah, I’ve heard of you. But what were you doing here, and undercover no less?”

“We can compare notes later,” Scott Free said. “Right now, I think we have a train to catch.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Oliver Queen said. “But first maybe you can untie me and then we can make a quick detour. I’d like to be prepared better for a fight.”

***

The train that conveyed the Stock’s Shows arrived at the station, and the engine let forth a mighty burst of steam. For most of the passengers, it was just one more town and one more show. The door to Clyde Stock’s car opened, and he stepped out followed by his two partners in crime. “Remember, keep it under your hats,” he instructed them as they stepped off the train.

“Can’t keep a secret once word gets out,” a voice said from behind him.

Clyde Stock whirled around to see two costumed figures standing there, arms crossed. One man wore a colorful costume of yellow, red and green with a high colored green cape. The other man was dressed entirely in green with a bow in his hand. “Wh-wh-what can…?” Stock stammered, trying to keep his composure. “That is, uh, is there something we can, uh, do for you, gentleman?”

“Yeah, there is,” Green Arrow said. “You can give yourselves up! You’re under arrest for murder and extortion.”

Stock freaked out. “Hold them off!” he said as he burst past Chuck and Dave. The man began to run down the platform.

“I’ll take the runner,” Green Arrow said. “You play with these two.” Mister Miracle nodded as the archer took off in pursuit.

Chuck and Dave rushed the costumed man. With smooth grace, the New God leapt into the air and avoid the grasping hands. “Really, boys, you’ll have to do better than that,” Mister Miracle laughed. Chuck spun around and charged again. The hero backed up to a light pole and waited; as Chuck got extremely close, he ducked out of the way. Chuck’s face slammed hard into the metal pole, and he slumped to the ground unconscious.

Dave pulled a knife from his pocket and flicked it open menacingly. Mister Miracle smiled under his mask. “Oh, we get to use weapons?” he asked playfully. “Let me get mine.” He pulled forth from his costume a small cube, about an inch in size. Dave began to laugh. Mister Miracle just shook his head. “Uh-uh. It’s not the size of the prize but the power inside.” From the multi-cube shot a thin blast of energy. The laser beam stung into Dave’s large hand, causing him to scream out in pain and to drop the knife.

“Allow me to get that,” Mister Miracle said. He sprang forward, tumbled, and reached for the fallen knife. As he did so, he sprang into a handstand with his feet launching upwards. The soles of his boots slammed into Dave’s jaw, knocking the roustabout backwards. He hit the ground hard.

Mister Miracle sprang back to his feet, looking back and forth at his fallen opponents. “What, show’s over already?” A few folks on the platform who had watched the melee suddenly began to applaud and cheer. Mister Miracle smiled. “Never tire of hearing that.” He began to take a bow. “Thank you, thank you. You’re too kind.”

Clyde Stock pushed people aside as he ran down the platform. His whole world was crashing down around him. All his plans, all that money, his show – all of it was about to be ruined if he didn’t get away. Why here? Why now? he thought in a panic.

He hopped down a few steps and rounded the corner that lead to the street. He stopped suddenly in his tracks.

“Going somewhere, Stock?” Green Arrow said. He had an arrow cocked in his bow, aimed directly at the man.

“I-I…” Stock stammered.

“You think you can talk your way out of this, Stock?” the archer sneered. “I don’t think so. Guys like you that manipulate the system for their own benefit are sick, especially when you kill other people just so you can get rich from it! It’s the end of the line for you, buddy.”

Stock turned to run again.

“I said the show’s over,” Green Arrow stated, letting the arrow fly. As the shaft whizzed past the man’s feet, a bolo shot forth from the arrowhead and entangled Stock’s feet. Clyde Stock fell forward.

Green Arrow hurried over to the man and hoisted him into the air. He looked him dead in the face. “Don’t mess with me, scum bag,” the hero said. “I’m not in the mood right now.”

Stock looked into the man’s eyes then realized who he was facing. “You? You. It was you all along, wasn’t it?”

Green Arrow tossed him to the ground. “Greed blinded you, Stock. It corrupted your life and tripped you up in the end. Maybe you’ll learn something from this. You should have a long prison sentence to think about it.”

Epilogue

A few hours later, in the Justice League satellite, Green Arrow and Mister Miracle sat around discussing the case.

“I had actually heard rumors about Stock’s shows being a dangerous place to work,” Mister Miracle said. “Word like that tends to spread in my line of business, so I thought maybe I’d go check it out.” He took a sip of the coffee the archer had provided him. “I arrived there maybe a week or so before you did.”

“So, you had no clue Stock was up to insurance fraud?” Green Arrow asked.

“Nope,” the escape artist replied. “But when you showed up as Kingsley, I figured something must be up. I recognized you pretty much right away. After that, I was trying to get you alone so I could let you know who I was.”

“Sorry about that,” Green Arrow apologized. “Still, I’m glad you were around since things hadn’t gone quite the way I had planned. If not for you, I’d probably be dead at the bottom of a river.”

Mister Miracle laughed. “I guess I’m partly to blame for putting you into that position anyway. But I’ve learned that sometimes the best way to get out of a tricky situation is to just go with the flow. Take whatever opportunities that present themselves.”

“I see your point, Miracle.” Green Arrow glanced at the clock on the console. “I hate to be a bad host and all, but we probably should be getting back planetside. I’ve got a pretty lady waiting for me back home, and I don’t want to keep Black Canary waiting any longer.”

“I hear you,” Mister Miracle said. “I’m sure my wife Barda is anxious to see me too.” They started towards the transporter tube. “Say, I have an idea, Arrow. Maybe the four of us could get together sometime, under less stressful circumstances. It might be kind of fun for two heroic couples to hang out for a relaxing evening.”

Green Arrow nodded. “Perhaps,” he said. “You like chili?”