Posted by The Hooded Hood presents this special anniversary invocation of the Parodyverse's early years, featuring Jarvis, Enty, Lisa, spiffy, Finny, DK, and one Bad Word on September 23, 2001 at 05:54:40:
Lair Legion: Year One, part 3 – What happened when Banjooooo declared war on the human race, and why it’s a bad idea to ever go to the lavatory again
THE STORY SO FAR: The 
cosmically-powered Jarvis, the amorous advocatrix Lisa, armoured adventurer 
NTU-150, and completely unpowered cub reporter spiffy have been joined in the 
League of Regulars by the Makluan dragon Fin Fang Foom. Finny is the only one 
who knows for sure that urban legend the Dark Knight is real and out there. 
Gavan Carstenson is lost in the Warralorracaves in the outback, tormented by the 
mysterious Hoki, Ausgardian god or goddess of mischief. Pure alien thought being 
Yo is seeking a human host, having failed to merge with the explorer who has now 
discovered a mystic cave and been transformed into the Master of the Gah! Force 
known as Starseed. Space Ghost’s TV show has been cancelled. And the cosmic 
entity known as the Chronicler of Stories has taken an interest in the doings of 
the growing superhero community of the Parodyverse.
 Previous episodes are available here.
“And in closing, I’d 
like to officially welcome you here to Paradopolis – in this all-important 
mayoral election year – and invite you to say a few words to the fine people of 
our fine city.” The Mayor stepped aside and made way from Banjooooo, King of the 
Sea Monkeys, to come to the podium. “Alright you surface dwellers. This is Banjooooo, King of the Sea Monkeys 
speaking to you, using my occasional power to communicate through all forms of 
sea life. So listen up.” “The way I see it, there are still all kinds of things to do to establish a 
proper superhero team,” Fin Fang Foom told the League of Regulars. “I mean, we 
don’t have any kind of equipment, we don’t have any kind of protocols, 
codewords, procedures of operation…” “So how did it go, dear?” Cheryl asked her husband as he trudged into their 
condo in the quiet suburb of Dullard’s Corner. “Did anybody take any notice of 
you this time?” The creatures were about seven feet tall, with mottled green-grey hides of 
stone and iron talons. They merged out of the rock all around Gavan ready to 
rend him to pieces. They brought with them an aura of fear which made it 
impossible for the young man to move. He was crushed by their very presence, and 
then they moved forward to crush him physically too. It was clear that the government man did not care for superheroes. He took 
the chair furthest away from Lisa, Jarvis, NTU-150 and Fin Fang Foom, unlatched 
his briefcase, and took out a dossier. “This is what we have on the so-called 
King of the Sea-Monkeys,” he told the League of Regulars. “Our intelligence 
assessments indicated that he was of little strategic or diplomatic importance. 
We have no proof this his supposed kingdom exists at all.” “Er, hello? Big giant sea monkey? We need to talk. Please don’t step on 
me!” “So what you’re saying,” Jarvis sighed as he spoke to Commissioner of Police 
Graham, “is that the building-high monster got fed up of terrorising the city 
and went off with one of our members to get a drink?”
 A thousand light years from Earth in the voids of space, red LEDs lit up long 
darkened visual receptors. A computer brain with more capacity than all the CPUs 
on Earth calculated odds and examined sensor data. Then something huge and 
metallic began to move towards the Solar System at speeds which made light stand 
still.
 The grimiest and most dangerous part of Paradopolis is the area variously 
known as Seedytown or Hell’s Bathroom. It was quite an achievement on behalf of 
the individual who lay on a pile of rotting garbage in one of the many dark 
alleys that he actually managed to make the whole place slightly more grimy on 
average. As the mound of empty bottles around him showed, it had been quite a 
bender. “Where exactly is this again?” Lisa asked uncertainly, looking round the 
lobby of a building he hadn’t actually known was there 
before. Several meteor tracking stations noted the burning object that impacted into 
the Baltic Sea, and logged it down as another argument for more budgeting to 
stop things happening like they did in that movie, you know the one where they 
have to nuke a meteor, and dude that could really happen you know. None of them 
were able to continue tracking the metallic object once it had gone into 
underwater mode and continued its quest.
 NTU-150’s experimental sub-aqua suit worked perfectly except that the plastic 
ducks kept sinking. The young technologist propelled himself deeper and deeper 
into the abyssal rift, an old tectonic faultline in the middle of the Sargasso 
Sea. His only light now was the thousand candlepower beam from his chest unit. 
His only navigation method was the computer overlay on his optical sensors. 
Without his duck flotation devices he had no other way of knowing which was 
up. “I’m only going to ask you one more time,” the Dark Knight told the thug he 
was dangling over the edge of the Gothametropolis Peace Hall, “Where is 
Visionary? Where is Banjooooo?” “Right,” breathed Jarvis as NTU-150 picked bits of combat robot out of his 
charred underwater armour and replaced the modular attachments to revert to his 
regular battle suit. “So Banjoooo’s got a huge alien device down there which is 
how he’s making the change to the physical properties of water, and he’s got 
killbots protecting it.” “That was to being exciting!” Yo panted as s/he and Gavan finished off the 
last of the trolls. “Yo is going to be liking this planet.” “I’d like to point out that I’m not actually a member of the League of 
Regulars,” Visionary pointed out to the King of the Sea Monkeys. “I mean, Jarvis 
isn’t likely to pay any ransom for me. He might give you money to keep 
me…” The metallic creature from the stars rose out of the water at Bermuda, 
ignoring the screams of sunbathers and tourists. It stood seventy feet tall and 
was composed entirely of alien metal. It paused only to take another sensor 
bearing and then walked inland. Any cars and houses it crushed were purely 
incidental.
 “Eeep,” eeped Lisa. The amorous advocatrix stared around her at the strange 
alien architecture. “Alright, Sea Monkey. Don’t move or the plankton gets it!” spiffy warned, 
holding a sample of pondweed hostage in an attempt to stop the Fin Fang Foom / 
Banjoooo battle. Things were getting quite literally messy. “Get it yourself!” shouted Jarvis, shrugging aside the man with the size 
nineteen hob-nailed boots and the irritating little guy who was trying to give 
him Chinese burns. He picked up a vast fat dog and used it to hit the woman with 
the hair who was strangling Lisa. Before the surprised canaine could use its 
Abhuman teleportation powers Lisa was free. In the weed-choked depths of the Sargasso, Banjoooo and Fin Fang Foom 
examined a patch of dark and empty water. “Gone!” snarled the King of the Sea 
Monkeys. “I’ve been set up. ZOXXON has stolen my artefact.” “So you’re, um, you’re real,” spiffy told the Dark Knight. “Hi honey, I’m home!” Visionary called out as he trudged back into his 
condo. Impossibly high in the Himalayas was the Kirbyesque futuristic city of the 
Abhumans. Pointlessly tall needle-shaped towers were surrounded by overhead 
zoomways and large pole-mounted spheres that crackled off black dots for no 
apparent reason. “All is in readyness, my lord,” Mr Montiver Hole, CEO of ZOXXON oil told the 
monitor screen. “The device is secured in our Atlanta plant, under heavy guard. 
By now the heroes will have worked out that we have taken it, and probably 
traced its emissions. They will be hurrying over there to retrieve it, little 
knowing that when they arrive we will trigger the thermonuclear device concealed 
in the plant, thus eliminating Jarvis and his troublesome team forever. 
Admittedly we will leave a big glowing hole where Atlanta used to be, but on the 
bright side our preliminary studies suggest that the artefact won’t even be 
scratched so we can really use it later.” The seventy-foot tall metallic humanoid robot was named the Obliterator, and 
his gun metal grey body was packed with enough killing devices to keep Arnold 
Swarznegger happy for at least twenty minutes. Think of the Iron Giant on 
steroids. “No, I don’t know what the hell it is,” Montiver Hole snarled as he punched 
buttons on his comm panel. “And I don’t know where it came from. Fortunately it 
seems to be killing the heroes for us.” “It’s all over the web, Mister President,” Herbert P. Garrick warned his 
Commander in Chief. “An exposé of the ZOXXON corporation, with live webcams 
showing their depredations in the Sargasso, and a whole set of pages linking 
them to all kinds of shady deals breaking federal and international conservation 
laws. The public think this Sea Monkey creature is vindicated in his protests 
against what they were doing.” “We did it, Cheryl!” Visionary beamed. “Well, you did it and I sat and 
watched. It’s a PR coup! You should do this for a living!” “I summons the brain of that big Obliterator robot!” Lisa shouted; but either 
the creature was shielded or her power didn’t work that way. “Oh poo!” “Shred everything,” Hole demanded. “Then we blame some stupid mid-level 
employee and get public sympathy as the corporation abused by a man we 
trusted.” “Ouch!” Banjooooo said, as the Obliterator dropped the ZOXXON complex on him. 
“Ouch ouch ouch ouch ouch!” “Where is it?” demanded the Obliterator, seizing up Lisa in one massive hand 
that could have squashed her to pulp with the slighted squeeze. “Where have you 
taken it? I hate teleporters!” “So we are pleased to announce that the threat of, er, world toilet clogging 
has been averted and the lavatory is safe for people everywhere once more,” 
Jarvis told the press conference. He was healing nicely now that the broken 
bones had been set. And afterwards:
 “Thanks for tying up the ZOXXON end,” Finny told the Dark Knight. “No, really, we need a PR expert,” Lisa smiled, “and after that coup with the 
Sea Monkeys we can’t think of a better person to offer the job to.” “So what are you going to do now?” spiffy asked the King of the Sea Monkeys. 
“I mean, you’re not going back to trying to conquer the world are you?” And in his dark tiny office at Coot, Coot, Wellfudge, and Coot, the old man 
known nowadays as Ezriah Coot chuckled over his ledger and prepared to make his 
move.
 And assuming there is ever another episode of this: The League of 
Regulars meet Starseed and Space Ghost, Sersi throws a party and Rocket Racoon 
crashes it, the Sorceress suffers a broken heart, Pilar has an unexpected 
visitor in her shower, a gritty new vigilante rises to send a Message to 
organised crime, Gavan finally finds out what that baseball bat is all about, 
and the secret of Ezriah Coot is revealed.
“He looks just like a man-sized mutant 
prawn,” spiffy considered, trying to peer over the shoulders of the taller and 
more experienced pressmen to get any kind of decent camera angle on the strange 
visitor from beneath the oceans.
“There’s certainly more to him than meets 
the eye,” Gregory Burch agreed, speaking suddenly in the cub reporter’s left ear 
and scaring him out of his wits.
“Zoinks!” spiffy gasped, in his best Shaggy 
impression. “What are you doing here, Mr Burch? I thought you covered the crime 
beat for the Gothametropolis Times?”
The dishevelled and grizzled reporter in 
the stained trenchcoat gestured to the podium where the Mayor and City 
Councilmen sat and watched a giant humanoid shrimp move to the speaker’s desk. 
“There’s more crime up there, more greed and betrayal and faith-stabbing septic 
voids than in all the slums of Hell’s Bathroom,” Burch warned. He looked down 
and glared suspiciously at Mark “spiffy” Hopkins. “I’m surprised to see you 
here, though. I’d have thought that old man Jerkson would have fired your butt 
off his newspaper the minute he discovered you were palling around with those 
League of Regular superheroes he’s so busy writing inflammatory articles 
about.”
“Ah well…” spiffy admitted to the man who, if he but knew it, was the 
urban legend the Dark Knight in one of his many alternate identities, “the thing 
is I don’t think J. James Jerkson has actually worked out my name yet. Old JJJ 
just doesn’t associate the copy boy he throws his coffee mug at with the spiffy 
who’s in the League of Regulars. And I need the cash he pays for hero pictures, 
to be honest.”
“You didn’t take those shots of Lisa that appeared in…” Burch 
growled.
“No,” spiffy assured him quickly. “I’m not even old enough to buy 
the mag.”
By this time the King of the Sea Monkeys had come to the front of 
the platform and launched into his speech. “Ladies and gentlemen of the surface 
world, Mr Mayor, members of the press, thank you for inviting me here today. I’d 
like to take this opportunity to tell you that since you have not ceased your 
oil drilling operations as I demanded when I first appeared amongst you many 
weeks ago, and since your petrochemical industry has persistently blocked my 
legal and diplomatic efforts to prevent the destruction of my undersea homeland, 
I am now declaring war on the human race.”
“What?” gasped the Mayor, checking 
his copy of the script Banjoooooo was supposed to have used.
“After midnight 
tonight I shall prevent any and all forms of sea travel, fishing, water pumping, 
and hydroelectric applications. We have activated a device which changes the 
physical properties of water, and will turn all large bodies of H2O solid. 
Within two weeks we will have reduced your surface civilisations to ruins. Then 
you will regret the day you ignored the rightful claims of the Sea Monkey 
peoples. Thank you for listening, and for the excellent lunch.”
“What?” 
gasped the Mayor again, for emphasis. “Why you overgrown crustacean! Your people 
– assuming they exist at all – must be about a fifth of an inch high. How 
exactly do you imagine you’re going to stop humans?”
“Ah,” Banjoooooo smiled 
sweetly, “We can grow.” And as he spoke he stopped being a six-foot tall 
pinkish-white humanoid with three prominent head-crests and swelled until he was 
fully sixty feet tall and could lean on skyscrapers. “See?”
“Whore your way 
out of that one, Mister Mayor,” Greg Burch snarled at the stricken city 
leader.
spiffy’s League of Regulars pager went off – well, it was NTU-150 
designed so it first vibrated then set fire to his pocket. “Gee,” spiffy sighed 
as he doused his groin with water from the Paradopolis Square fountain, “I 
wonder what this call could be about?”
Deep in the Worralorracaves in the 
Australian Outback, Gavan Carstensen scrambled ever further into the confusing 
labyrinth of passages. He had long since lost any sense of direction or of time. 
He didn’t know if he had been in the tunnels minutes or days, although his torch 
was dimming and the passageways were getting narrower. All he knew was the 
tugging of the strange wooden object in his hands, the baseball bat with a nail 
in the end that had been sent to him from a mysterious attorney’s firm in 
distant Paradopolis. It seemed to guide him unerringly ever deeper, and Gavan 
followed.
Occasionally he would pause as he spotted carvings on the walls of 
the tunnels. They were thin scratched runes, and they looked familiar to Gavan 
though he couldn’t understand them. He traced his fingers across the sigil 
Thuriaz and wondered at it. “What does it say?” he whispered.
“That’s not 
important right now, meat” the trolls told him. “Except that it makes a really 
appropriate grave marker.”
Across America, the sound of the angry giant brine 
shrimp echoed out of goldfish bowls and aquariums. Diners in restaurants were 
horrified to hear their grilled bass and jellied eels talking to them. Such was 
the power of the King of the Sea Monkeys.
“My people and I have been pretty 
patient. We’ve tried to establish proper lines of communication with you humans 
and all we’ve got is copyright infringement from those guys selling sea monkey 
eggs in comic books. We’ve warned you about the devastating effects your actions 
are having on the ecology of the seas, on the ozone lair, on the whole planet 
and you just won’t listen. So we’re declaring war on the surface 
world.”
“Yeah right,” snickered Defence Advisor Herbert P. Garrick. “Don’t 
worry Mister President. It’s not like we have much to fear from little wriggly 
things a quarter inch long. What are they going to do to the United 
States?”
“Even as we speak, agents of our undersea empire are working to 
bring your country to its knees,” Banjooooo continued. “We have infiltrated your 
sewage systems and, um, well clogged them up with our own bodies. From this 
moment forth, no lavatory in America will work! We shall leave you to stew in 
your own juices – well, you know what I mean – for twenty-four hours. After that 
our water-solidifying apparatus will have brought the oceans and rivers to a 
standstill. Then you will hear our demands.”
Herbert Garrick stopped 
laughing.
The President reached for the telephone.
“I’ve sort of come up with a battle 
cry,” spiffy called out helpfully.
Everybody ignored him. 
“Actually, I 
have been thinking about the equipment requirements,” NTU-150 noted. “I have an 
idea for a kind of all-environment vehicle called a Lairjet, after our 
mansion.”
“I was up all night working on this battle cry,” spiffy said 
aggrievedly.
“I was up all night too,” Lisa smirked wickedly. “Some might 
call it working.”
Jarvis looked worriedly at the pretty brunette. By popular 
accord the battling butler had taken the Chair of their new alliance. Of course, 
that didn’t stop Lisa trying to sit on the same chair on top of him. “I hope 
part of your activity included finding out how you gained the power to summons 
people from across the planet to be teleported to you when you need them,” the 
butler said worriedly. “There are too many mysteries about this group which will 
come back to bite us if we don’t fathom them.”
“I agree,” Lisa nodded. “Then 
there’s the matter of this house that HV got for us, and the problem of the 
Scourge of the BZL, and how we convince the public that Finny here isn’t going 
to eat them any more…”
“That wasn’t me,” Andrew Dean protested. “It was 
before this body was under my management.”
“It’s a good battle cry,” 
continued spiffy plaintively.
“Finny is still a PR problem, though,” Lisa 
noted. “Let me work on it.”
“I am not going through your proposed induction 
screening process,” the Makluan dragon told her firmly.
“I’ve upgraded my 
armour especially to avoid it,” Enty admitted. 
“Doesn’t anyone want to hear 
this battle cry, then?” spiffy kept trying.
Jarvis sighed. “What is it then, 
spiffy? I hope it’s less lame than ‘League of Regulars, Line Up!’”
“Er,” 
spiffy hesitated. “It’s not that urgent. I’ll get back to you on it.”
There 
was a small explosion from the hallway and fragments of molten plastic sprayed 
the walls.
“An attack?” Jarvis gasped, leaping to his feet with the 
JarvisCosmic shimmering around him..
“Actually, no,” NTU-150 admitted. 
“That’s the emergency warning signal that an important telephone call is coming 
in. Only it seems to have got overexcited.”
“Alright,” Jarvis said, his hands 
buried in his head. “Lisa, would you please go find a payphone and find out who 
was trying to call us before our emergency line exploded into several hundred 
pieces?”
“I didn’t actually get into the Lair Mansion,” Vizh answered 
disconsolately. “When I got near the door these automatic stunners tried to 
disintegrate me. If they hadn’t got tangled up with each other and blown each 
other to bits it might have got nasty.”
“Well at least this time you didn’t 
get Jarvis throwing garbage out of the upstairs window at you,” Cheryl suggested 
as the would-be hero trudged into the bathroom. “Visionary, don’t use 
the…”
But it was too late. An appalling smell gushed out of the smallest room 
in the house.
“Have you forgotten that that sea monkey creature is holding 
the nation’s sanitary facilities hostage?” Cheryl asked. “Visionary? 
Vizh?”
But inexplicably the toilet was empty. The possibly fake man had gone.
“Yo is thinking that 
that would be not be being a very nice thing to do,” a voice from the darkness 
suggested. The trolls turned to see a slim grinning shimering figure of 
indeterminate gender doffing the swashbuckling black hat that s/he had deemed 
appropriate Earth attire. “Hello,” Yo bade them all.
“What in Fafnir’s name 
is that?” a troll demanded. “That is weird.”
“Oh, like you’re not,” Gavan 
complained.
“Yo is preferring for you you not to be rending cute human, thank 
you,” Yo explained to the menacing trolls. “Yo is to be visiting Earth for some 
time to be, and Yo can only be doing that if Yo is be able to merge with cute 
Earth human. Yo is to be hoping this Earth-human will be to merge with 
Yo.”
“You want to, uh, merge?” Gavan worried. “Could you kind of tell me what 
gender you are before I answer?”
“Rend them both,” the troll commander 
ordered.
“Yo is thinking you are uncute and nasty,” the pure thought being 
began, but was slammed to the ground by the trolls’ sudden attack.
Gavan has 
been unable to shale off the fear paralysis while his own life was in danger, 
but as he saw the bright creature hurt he somehow managed to break free of their 
spell. He had to do something. And in his hand was a heavy wooden bat.
“So you ignored 
his warnings that this oil drilling was endangering his people, and now that it 
turns out he can become a sixty-foot tall monster you want us to do something 
about it?” Fin Fang Foom answered cynically. “Have you got something 
against beings that grow to giant size, hmmmm?”
“Sympathetic monster 
or not, if he’s menacing the people of Paradopolis then we’ll have to put him 
down,” Jarvis pointed out.” 
“He seems to have manifested a number of 
additional super-powers as well,” NTU-150 considered, looking at the dossier. 
“Lightning strikes, super-speed, the ability to turn any object orange…”
“The 
President is very concerned,” the government man warned the League of Regulars. 
“He’s thinking of using a low-yield nuclear strike if this menace can’t be 
stopped by conventional means.”
“A nuke?” objected Lisa. “That’ll kill 
millions in Paradopolis! It’ll do more damage than this giant sea monkey ever 
could.”
“But Paradopolis didn’t vote for this president, remember?” Finny 
snorted.
The first lady of the League of Regulars swivelled round to the 
Special Liaison on Superhuman Affairs. “Look, Mister…?”
“Garrick, Herbert P. 
Garrick.”
“What’s the P stand for?” Jarvis wondered.
“I could hazard a few 
guesses,” muttered Fin Fang Foom.
“…Mister Garrick,” Lisa continued, flashing 
him her best advocate’s smile, “why not leave this with us for a while. I’ll 
check into the legal situation about these Sea Monkeys and their oil drilling, 
Enty can inspect this oil drilling site, Jarv will make sure Banjooooo doesn’t 
cause any trouble while we’re checking things out…”
“I’ll make a view 
investigations my own way,” Finny added. “I have a… contact that can 
help.”
“And spiffy can…” concluded Lisa, “Er, where is spiffy anyway?”
Banjooooo, king of the sea monkeys, looked down at the juvenile human 
cringing beside his feet. “Yes?” he boomed.
“Hi there!” spiffy called. “Er, 
before you go rampaging across the city and all the usual stuff do you think 
that we could talk for a minute? Perhaps get a coffee?”
The sixty foot high 
crustacean considered this. “With biscotti?” he checked.
The stern men in the pristine white coats who were closing in on him 
were the ones who brought up the danger quotient however.
“Hnnnh? Washsup?” 
Space Ghost slurred as he felt himself being lifted up and placed into a 
straight jacket. “Whassit?”
“Don’t worry, partner. We’re just going to make 
you comfortable,” one of the mental health workers told him. “We’re going to let 
you have a nice lie down in our padded wagon.”
“They cancelled m’ show. M’ 
lovely show.”
“Eeew. What’s he been drinking?” another one asked, shying away 
from the pile of detritus that surrounded the unemployed former chat show host 
and superhero. “And where did all this chewed tandoori come from?”
Space 
Ghost helpfully demonstrated by producing some more.
“Let go’a me,” he 
struggled. “You don’ love me. Nobody loves me.”
“Just come with us, buddy, 
and we’ll make sure you’re never unhappy again.”
“Leggo. ‘M not 
coming.”
“Oh, but I think you’ll find you are.” In the gloom of the alleyway 
the men in white coats had red glowing eyes. “I think you’ll find you’re never 
going to trouble the world again.”
They were called the Hero Feeders, 
parasites of the Parodyverse, and they preyed upon stories and the heroes in 
them. Vulnerable, forgotten characters had a special flavour.
“And I think 
you’re going to back off and let him go,” the newcomer in the alley demanded. He 
was dressed in ordinary street clothes but flickers of purple light danced 
around his silhouette.
“Or what?” the Hero Feeders smirked. “What can you do 
against us? This prey is ours.”
“I have only one thing to say,” Starseed 
answered the interdimensional predators who preyed upon heroes and devoured them 
from existence. “GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”
The sound reverberated 
across the city, shredding the corporeal essence of the Lurkers. Starseed looked 
quite shocked that it had actually worked. Ever since his awakening to the Gah! 
Force during his escape from Dirth Vortex and his minions he had known he should 
be able to do things like this; but to actually see the force at work was 
astounding.
“You saved me,” Space Ghost rambled, clutching Starseed’s knees. 
“Frien’!”
“You’d, er, you’d better come with me so we can sober you up and 
get you cleaned,” Starseed decided uncertainly. “And for goodness’ sake put on 
some pants, will you?”
“Interdimensional Transportation Corporation,” Fin Fang Foom 
explained for the seventh time. “Their building is shielded from normal view. 
You can only see it if you have a legitimate reason to.”
“Ah. Right. That 
makes sense. Of course.”
“I found out about it while I was being trained in 
the Golden Age Heroes dimension,” Finny continued. “They contract for all the 
business from the order of the Observing Eye and that kind of stuff.”
This 
helped Lisa’s comprehension just as much as the previous statement. “So we’re 
here to see somebody who can tell us about Sea Monkeys?”
“Yes,” conceded the 
dragon. “We’re here to see somebody who can tell us about Sea Monkeys.” He 
turned to the receptionist. “Is Mr Limpqvist in, please?”
The thin effete 
administrator of the ITC complex looked up in surprise as he saw the Makluan and 
the amorous advocatrix enter. He put down the resumé dossiers of a Mr Harper and 
a Miss Framlicker and rose to greet his guests. “Oh!” he gasped. “Oh, excuse me, 
you quite startled me for a moment.” 
“Yeah, well it’s not every day you see 
a humanoid dragon in your office, I guess,” Lisa noted.
“Oh no. I’m well used 
to seeing young Mr Foom. It was your lingerie that made me take notice,” 
Limpqvist shrugged.
Lisa smirked and stretched. Finny shuddered.
“I must 
get some like that,” Mr Limpqvist concluded. “Do you think they make it in my 
size?”
Finny choked as he swallowed his tongue. Lisa hammered him on the back 
until he could breathe again.
“So what brings you here, dears?” the Manager 
of the Interdimensional Transportation Corporation asked at last.
“Sea 
Monkeys,” Finny said hoarsely. “We need to know about Sea Monkeys.”
The ZOXXON oil company’s depredations were easy to see. Cruel steel 
columns had been planted down through the delicate coral patterns, and a greasy 
sheen hovered in the deep waters. The sounds of the drilling carried well 
through the ocean, a series of persistent throbbing hums. But NTU-150 tuned 
those sounds out, masked those energy sources. He was seeking something 
else.
He almost didn’t sense it, so alien was the power source; but there it 
was, even deeper in the trench, further than he’d ever tested the pressure 
tolerances of his NTU-150 subsea rig. And already around it the physical 
properties of the water were changing. It was becoming turgid and gluey – not 
frozen, because the temperature remained unchanged – and if that carried on over 
a planetary scale then the human race really was doomed.
“I’m going in,” 
Jaimie Bautista reported, although he was unsure if his communications gear 
would work this far down. “I can just about see something glimmering down there. 
Something big.”
“Be careful, Enty,” Jarvis advised the armoured inventor. 
“Enty?”
“I swear man, I don’t know. Really. I 
don’t.”
“Don’t give me that crap, Benny. You work for the Lynchpin, run 
messages for the fat slug. And word is you’ve been delivering supplies out to 
the Boxleitner Sewage Works upstate. Lots of sanitary workers suddenly get a 
craving for pizza, Benny?”
“I… I just did what I was told!”
“What’s 
happening out there, Benny?” the Dark Knight demanded, his eyes boring into the 
criminals’ mind.
“He’s… he’s gathering hostages. That Sea Monkey guy. I dunno 
why. He’s setting something up. That’s all I know, man. Really.”
Two figures 
watched the drama from the side of a nearby building. Neither of them seemed to 
notice that they were stood at ninety degrees to gravity.
“He’s rather good, 
isn’t he?” the Chronicler of Stories admitted.
“I suppose so, in a 
criminals-are-a-cowardly-and-superstitious-lot way,” admitted the Shaper of 
Worlds. “Does he remember?”
“That he had done this before, twenty years ago? 
That he died and became me? That I arranged for him to be born once more and 
grow up to become a Dark Knight again, so that I could interact in the Age of 
Resolution?” shrugged the Chronicler. “I’d say not. But he’ll work it out one 
day. He’s smart.”
“I’m going to have to do something like that, you know,” 
the Shaper suggested. “I’m planning an accident involving a young man named 
Carrington, the Man Who Wasn’t There from the Scourge, a winning lottery ticket, 
and an enraged Jarvis. Then I can create myself and play too.”
“Lots of 
cosmic agencies are lining up their players for the big finale,” the Chronicler 
suggested. “Some of the fundamental forces are getting ready to manifest again. 
There’s a new CrazySugarHero due in a couple of years or so, perhaps the 
template for all the others. The Order of Order is going to want to imbue 
somebody with Serious Matter. The Psychostave is active again. The Observing Eye 
have saved their two best champions and will be cutting them loose in a while. 
Eggo the Living Waffle is considering a new Protector of the Parodyverse. We 
might get a DarkHwk manifestation. I understand that even Knifey might be 
looking for a new wielder.”
“It’s going to be exciting,” the Shaper of Worlds 
anticipated. “And the best part is, nobody knows how its going to end.”
“Yep,” agreed NTU-150. “It seems like we found a 
solid lead to where this Banjooooo character is getting his energy from. The big 
device in the Sargasso Sea that is receiving projected power, and the energy 
signature I’m detecting here is exactly the same as the one in Visionary’s 
toilet.”
“This Banjooooo guy really wanted to protect that device, didn’t 
he?” Lisa worried. “It’s a good job Enty had those anti-personnel charges with 
him when those undersea robot drones attacked.”
“Honestly, I think the 
explosions were just Jamie’s underwater propulsion gear malfunctioning,” pointed 
out Jarvis, “but it had the same effect.”
“At least he got out,” Lisa 
conceded. “We really need Finny here too for underwater action. I wonder where 
he ran off to after Mr Limpqvist told us about Sea Monkeys being genetically 
engineered?”
“We’re all allowed to keep our secrets,” Jarvis reminded the 
first lady of the League of Regulars. “Like what you have locked in that trunk 
in your bedroom.”
“Oh, I’ll show you that sometime,” Lisa smiled 
wickedly.
Jarvis hastily moved back to business. “Where’s the power being 
projected from, Jamie?”
NTU-150 looked up into the starry Atlantic sky where 
a big sickle moon hung over the silent sea. “Actually…” he admitted.
“What the 
Niffleheim is going on?” Gavan Carstenson demanded. He hadn’t even noted his 
strange Norse reference. “Who are you and what’s this about you needing a host 
and…”
“Yo is sorry. Yo cannot be to be accepting of you. Yo sees now that you 
are to be not counting as mortal. Yo must have to be going before Yo’s time to 
bonding find is at an end. Goodbye cute friend.”
Gavan looked in astonishment 
as the pure thought being vanished. Then he noticed that where there had been 
fallen trolls there were only piles of old rubble. “Hallucinogenic gas pocket,” 
he told himself. “Has to be.”
That just left the baseball bat tugging him 
forward to explain. Instead he just followed it.
Vengeful eyes watched him 
from the shadows. “You got lucky getting help with the first challenge, 
half-brother,” Hoki the Deceiver admitted. “But next time there’ll be nobody to 
help you.”
Banjooooo seemed rather nonplussed. This wasn’t really the way he had 
planned his war with the surface world to go.
“And another thing,” Vizh added 
more crossly. “This is the second time I’ve been whisked away whilst sitting 
quietly in my lavatory. If this happens much more I’m going to get constipation 
or piles or something.”
“The man has a point,” spiffy admitted. “I mean as 
world conquests go, blocking lavatories is a bit gross isn’t it?”
“No,” 
Visionary argued. “Using his ability to shrink people down and suck them away 
through the u-bend is gross. I would like to emphasise that.”
“Shut up, you 
two,” Banjooooo complained. “I’m trying my best to fight against the 
despoliation of my seas and you two just keep…”
“I’m all for green issues,” 
Visionary promised. “I’m not too keen on brown issues just now, 
admittedly.”
“The point is that this isn’t the way to do it, Banjooooo man,” 
spiffy cajoled. “We can still try again to take on ZOXXON through the courts. I 
even know a lawyer, and her fees are very… atypical.”
“Until the Sea Monkey 
nation is recognised I can’t apply to the courts,” objected Banjooooo. “So I’m 
afraid it’s taking over the planet or bust.”
Then Fin Fang Foom smashed 
through the wall and pounded the Sea Monkey into the ground.
“Ouch,” snarled 
Banjooooo, hurling the massive Makluan back through the other wall. That was 
when the roof fell in. Visionary and spiffy had enough time to spot that they 
were at the Boxleitner Sewage Works before being buried in rubble. Meanwhile 
Finny and Banjooooo wrestled with each other, rolling over and over across the 
ground until they found the treatment pools the hard way.
“Shit,” snarled the 
Dark Knight.
“Don’t worry,” Jarvis assured her. “Even before I 
teleported us here with the Jarvis Cosmic I’d erected a force field around us. 
We brought our own air along.”
“But we don’t actually need it,” NTU-150 
reported, consulting his armour’s scanners. “Somehow there’s air out 
there.”
“Out there?” Lisa puzzled. “This is the moon, isn’t it?”
Jamie 
Bautista was engrossed in examining the turquoise ruins of the abandoned lunar 
city. “Whatever this place is, it’s old. Really old. And it wasn’t constructed 
with materials from Earth.”
“Aliens,” Jarvis surmised. He had met aliens 
before. “Could be the Puppeteers, maybe?” he suggested. “Or those shapeshifting 
Skunks?” Actually the city in the Turquoise Area had been built by the Skree 
Star Empire to exploit abandoned Celestian machinery but he had no way of 
knowing that just then.
“I still don’t see why you couldn’t just let me 
summons Visionary and the other folks who vanished off their toilet bowls to me, 
Jarvykins,” Lisa protested. “I mean, we could just pull them out and…”
“We 
might not have got them all out in time though,” Jarvis pointed out. “Suppose 
hostages start vanishing and then this Banjooooo menace decides to kill the 
rest? We don’t know how quickly or how often you can use your mystery power, and 
this isn’t the time to experiment.”
“But we can experiment later?” Lisa asked 
sexily, brushing up against the butler.
“I’m not so sure about this lead 
after all,” NTU-150 interrupted hurriedly. “All the energy signature readings 
I’m getting here are residual, from waaaay back. The Sea Monkeys sure aren’t 
using this as a base of operations now.”
“Damn,” scowled Jarvis. “Still, if 
we look around maybe we can find some clue to where these things…”
An alarm 
siren sounded in Enty’s red and gold battlesuit. “We have incoming! We have…” he 
had time to shout before the sonic wave smashed him into the 
ground.
“Actually, we have in-come!” the first of their attackers announced, 
gripping Lisa’s throat with impossibly long hair so that the First Lady of the 
League of Regulars couldn’t call a summons. “We’re the Abhumans, and we don’t 
like trespassers.”
“I don’t think 
that’s going to work,” Visionary admitted. “It’s kind of like holding a gun to 
somebody’s Big Mac.”
“That’d work on me,” spiffy admitted.
The Dark Knight 
sighed. He detonated a few remote thermite charges to get the combatants’ 
attention and then made his play. “If I might just ask a salient question?” he 
hissed scathingly. “Banjooooo, where exactly did you get those killer underwater 
robots from to protect your water-changing device?”
The King of the Sea 
Monkeys looked puzzled. “What killer underwater robots?” he asked.
“The ones 
that nearly killed NTU-150 when he investigated the Sargasso Sea,” Finny 
answered.
“I don’t have any killer underwater robots,” Banjooooo told them. 
“It’s a bum rap. You can’t frame me.”
“That’s strange,” Visionary admitted. 
“If you didn’t send the killer underwater robots then who did?”
“Aw man!” 
spiffy exploded. “Don’t you see? It’s a set up! Banj, where did you get that 
water changing thingy from?”
“I know many of the secrets of the sea,” 
Banjooooo admitted. “I am the King of the Sea Monkeys you know.”
“But where?” 
spiffy persisted.
“There’s this hidden island of monsters. I borrowed the 
artefact from there. It’s really old.”
“And this isle of monsters is usually 
shielded from normal detection, which is why we haven’t heard of it?” Fin Fang 
Foom deduced.
“Sure. Occasionally the monsters take a field trip to go stomp 
Tokyo but otherwise…”
“So anybody wanting that amazing machine would have to 
set up a scenario where somebody who knew where it was brought it out where they 
could get at it?” the Dark Knight suggested. “Perhaps they might provoke some 
sort of conflict that would prompt its use?”
The giant Sea Monkey looked 
pale. “You’re saying… I was set up? By ZOXXON?”
“If we can’t trust 
multinational petroleum organisations who can we trust?” asked a dismayed 
Visionary.
“A device which can change the physical properties of liquids 
would be a huge asset to an oil company,” Finny observed.
“It can do a lot 
more than that,” explained Banjooooo. “It’s the alien device that the Sea 
Monkeys were originally created from. It can alter any matter on the 
planet.”
“And I’m betting it won’t be where you parked it when we go back and 
look,” DK predicted grimly.
“Get us help, then relieve Enty!” 
Jarvis called to the amorous advocatrix. “And by that I mean help him get away 
from the folks trying to kill him,” he added hastily.
“Right,” Lisa agreed, 
as Brown Blot swatted Jarvis through priceless Skree architecture. “I summons 
the Marines!”
The first lady of the League of Regulars almost fell to her 
knees with the strain of so massive a teleportation, but somehow her power 
latched on to the same energy source that was feeding Banjooooo’s machine and 
there was a golden flash. A fully armoured Marine combat unit appeared in the 
lunar plaza. “Hi, Lisa!” they chorused.
“Hello, boys,” she called back. “Bad 
guys need taking out.”
“Well I was thinking of Fin Fang Foom,” Jarvis 
admitted as the elite fighting force went into operation, “but this is, um, this 
is fine.”
“Hey, look!” Enty called as the battle raged. “Some of the old city 
automated defences are still around. I bet I could get them working if I just 
connect these things to my on-board computer.”
“Nooooooo!” both sides of the 
combat screamed in unison. But by then it was too late.
“We’ll get it 
back,” Fin Fang Foom assured him. “The League of Regulars has traced where this 
thing of yours draws its power from. We can contact them and find out where the 
signal is going now. But you have to call off your war with the humans 
first, and unblock their toilets. Deal?”
“I guess so,” the crestfallen 
crustacean agreed. “Deal.”
The urban 
legend glared down at the cub reporter. “No,” he answered. “You never saw 
me.”
“You’re standing right there,” spiffy pointed out. “Er, Dark Knight? DK? 
DK?”
“Hello dear,” Cheryl called back. “You’re rescued then?”
“Actually 
I helped get all the other kidnapped people home,” Vizh answered. “But I’ll 
think twice before using a toilet again.”
“Oh. Good.” Cheryl shuddered, 
making a note to buy some really big diapers. “And has Banjooooo been brought to 
justice.”
“Actually…” Visionary began, and then explained how the Sea Monkey 
King had been set up and robbed of his artefact. “So it wasn’t really 
Banjooooo’s fault as such, apart from he did it all,” the possibly fake man 
concluded. “I just wish we could find a way to tell the world.”
Cheryl 
considered this. “Well perhaps we can,” she suggested at last.
The goddess of 
HTML turned back to her computer.
“Welcome to the great relief,” Princess Aphasia told the 
League of Regulars. “You are almost the first humans to come here since we awoke 
from our great hibernation.”
“We come in peace,” NTU-150 told the beautiful 
woman hastily. The LoR was outnumbered around a thousand to one here. Everybody 
in Atticland had some kind of super-power due to the effects of the 
Plot-Enhancing Mists that rose from the caves below. “That thing with the 
automated defences on the moon was a bit of a misunderstanding. Besides, our 
side got fried too. Jarvis is still smouldering. And Brown Blot will probably 
wake up soon. Really.”
“I know you mean no harm,” Aphasia smiled. “It is my 
power to be able to sense good and evil intent. I have even considered taking on 
the name Spandex Lass and venturing out from the great Relief to be fight evil 
in the wider world. I know that your hearts are pure. Except Lisa of course, but 
then she’s a lawyer.”
“This place is amazing,” spiffy admitted. “If I took 
pictures back for old man Jerkson he’d think they were fakes.”
“Our existence 
must remain a closely guarded secret,” the princess warned them. “We have been 
exploited and attacked too many times since our creation. Although our legends 
say we were created as warrior-slaves by the aliens who built the sacred 
Turquoise Area on the moon we rose up and became our own free people. We will 
not become chattels again.”
“I’m glad we can be friends,” Jarvis answered 
diplomatically.
“That’s because she’s a hot readhead wearing skintight yellow 
spandex that’s wedged up her butt-crack,” muttered Lisa bitchily. “Sense my 
intent now, you fat sow.”
“You captured those same gene-resequencing devices 
the aliens used to create you and utilised them yourselves?” Fin Fang Foom 
surmised. “And that’s where Sea Monkeys come from?”
“Nah,” Banjooooo smirked. 
“What happens is when the tides are right, the King of the Sea Monkeys uses his 
special powers to go to shore in search of a bride. Sometimes our memories are 
kind of messed with so we wander around as bums or something but eventually we 
find the special lady, and then we get to do these quests for her and stuff so 
we can marry and interbreed, and then she spawns the next generation of…”
“I 
think he meant where the Sea Monkey race originally came from,” spiffy 
clarified. “You can come out from under that table now, Finny.”
“Go away,” 
the Makluan called back. “I’m in my happy place.”
“I have quite a few happy 
places,” Lisa smirked. “Want me to show them to you?”
“Ack!”
“You’re 
saying that you Abhumans created my species?” Banjooooo checked of Spandex Lass. 
“You’re our creators?”
“We made a number of races, of which you were the 
last,” Aphasia admitted. “It seemed like the thing to do at the time, since we 
needed aid in a war against terrible opponents. But the original owners of the 
machines we used objected. They returned to punish us.”
“The aliens who 
created you?” checked Jarvis.
“Oh no,” the Abhuman princess admitted, turning 
pale. “It turns out that the aliens built the Turquoise Area only because they 
found the abandoned machines there. It was the creators of these devices that 
came in wrath and placed out whole Abhuman people in stasis, locked behind a 
Barrier of Negativity.
“So if ZOXXON tries to use that machine they stole for 
anything serious,” NTU-150 surmised, “then the builders of the thing might come 
back and punish the human race!”
“I suppose so,” Spandex Lass admitted. She 
was really enjoying being with this team. In fact, if she wasn’t about to be 
retconned out of existence by the Hooded Hood she would have joined them at this 
point and become one of their greatest members.
“We’ve got to stop them,” Jarvis determined. “We need a reading on where 
the power is being beamed to, Enty.”
“Got it, Jarv.”
“Then let’s go!” the 
leader of the League of Regulars called.
“League of Regulars, Line Up!” 
whispered spiffy, very quietly so nobody would hurt him.
“Excellent. Proceed,” came back the 
Teutonic-accented commend from the shadowy masked figure on the viewscreen. 
“Nothing can stop us now.”
That is always a stupid thing for an archvillain 
to say of course. Immediately a panel started to beep.
“What?” Montiver Hole 
gasped. “What’s this? I didn’t realise that the League of Regulars had a giant 
robot on their side? I thought they only had a giant dragon and a giant Sea 
Monkey?”
“That is correct.”
“Then we have a problem.”
Nobody knew where the thing had come from, but it was pretty 
evident that it had been attracted by the shining cosmic device that was the 
cheese in ZOXXON’s League of Regulars trap. Now it tore through devices designed 
to destroy Fin Fang Foom and Banjoooo without even noticing. Its eyeblasts 
melted tanks and combat drones, its chest missiles targeted command centres and 
control nexii, and its point finger lasers seared the ground troops.
In 
slightly under a minutes the killing ground was killed.
“Note to self: Humans 
die so easily,” commented the Obliterator, reaching forward for the Celestian 
artefact.
A blast of JarvisCosmic hit it in the chest and sent it spinning 
backwards. “Nail him, guys!” the battling butler shouted as the League made a 
dramatic appearance. “Whatever he is.”
“I’m on him with arrayed 
electromagnetic pulses,” NTU-150 reported.
“I’m using a 
previously-unsuspected matter disintegration ray I seem to have,” Banjooooo 
contributed.
Fin Fang Foom rose to his full draconic majesty and breathed 
nuclear fire over the robot.
“I’ll just, uh, take a tactical overview from 
behind this debris, guys,” spiffy suggested.
The Obliterator ignored the 
attacks except to swat Finny from the skies with one massive fist and to 
detonate a spread of antimatter shells against Banjoooo. “Next?” he asked 
smugly.
“This one is going to be tough,” admitted Lisa.
“Sir, we have other problems,” a 
technician warned the CEO of ZOXXON oil. “On the internet!”
“You’re telling me that the voters approve of 
this Banjoooo’s stand?”
“Yes, Mister President. What shall we do?”
“Are 
you an imbecile, Garrick? We support him, of course. We always have done. Clear 
up this unfortunate misunderstanding and get me a photo op, ASAP.”
“Yessir. 
And shall I have the website creators assassinated?”
“No, we can’t afford the 
scandal” snarled the President nastily. “Just alert then IRS”
“Now we only need 
to wait for the League of Regulars to retrieve the stolen artefact then,” Cheryl 
suggested.
“Hold 
on, folks,” Enty called. “I’m digging up some national grid powerlines to boost 
my armour.”
“As if we didn’t have enough to worry about,” answered Jarvis as 
he was stomped underfoot by a robotic boot.
“We can beat this thing,” Finny 
gasped as he took another pounding. “Heroes always find a way!”
“Like 
Custer?” asked spiffy.
The Obliterator let rip with his remote attack drones 
just then and the ultrasonic barrage blanked out any further dialogue.
“There’s only one problem with that plan, malefactor,” the Dark 
Knight suggested, looming out of the shadows. “Me.”
“Hey, you think you hurt,” complained spiffy. 
“I’m under you.”
“This isn’t working,” Lisa noted as the Obliterator hammered 
quantum pulse bolts into Fin Fang Foom. “Jarvy, can you teleport that device 
back where it came from?”
“I don’t know where it came from,” Jarvis pointed 
out, “but I can get it away from here. I think. It’s rather huge.”
“Then do 
it,” the first lady of the League of Regulars urged. “Fast.”
“Okay,” Jarv 
agreed. “Meanwhile, Enty, see if you can repair that big robot.”
“Repair it?” 
Jamie puzzled.
“Yes, look. There’s some wires loose where Finny tried to bite 
it,” Lisa urged. “Perhaps if you… if you make it better it might regard us as 
friends. Yes, that’s it.”
“Well, if you say so,” Enty agreed doubtfully. “I 
suppose I could use some of the broken bits from the traps here to cobble 
together some kind of fix-up.”
“Stay under the rubble,” spiffy urged 
Banjoooo. “Don’t move, man!”
“Gah!” gasped Jarvis, and teleported the 
Celestian artefact away. To his surprise, his teleportation was usurped by the 
device itself; it seemed to know where it wanted to go. The butler found himself 
on a volcanic atoll where the machine floated comfortably to rest in an old 
hollow that perfectly fit its shape.
Jarvis was just congratulating himself 
on a job well done when a giant lightning-breathing dinosaur stepped on him.
“Let her go!” demanded Finny. “Or I’ll… 
urk!”
“Where is it?” roared the angry robot.
“Stop it! You’re killing the 
dragon!” demanded Banjoooo. “Stop…agh!”
“Where. Is. It?”
“Where you won’t 
find it, big boy,” Lisa snarled back at the Obliterator. “You’ve lost!”
“Then 
you’re paste,” promised the giant robot. “You’re zaaaaarggggjhhh!”
The 
Obliterator fell over and didn’t move.
“Sorry,” Enty apologised to his 
friends. “I didn’t mean to break him. I was just trying to improve his power 
induction grid. I guess if I could cross-wire the amplification circuits to the 
interstitial fusion rectifier then I…”
“Don’t worry Enty,” Lisa grinned. “You 
did just fine.”
“I’m still going to work on an improved vacuum fusion 
lavatory anyway,” Enty confided in his teammates.
Lisa shuddered.
“No 
problem. Hole was overdue to be taken down anyway,” Greg Burch replied.
“They 
want you on the team,” Foom added.
“I don’t do teams,” DK replied.
“We 
could really use you,” Finny persisted.
“I don’t like spotlights. I can’t 
work effectively in public.”
“Couldn’t you be kind of, I dunno, our secret 
member or something?”
“That’s stupid,” Dark Knight answered.
“That’s the 
League,” Finny admitted.
“I’m not 
a public relations specialist,” Cheryl explained to the advocatrix.
“You’ve 
managed to keep people from beating him to death for years, haven’t you?” Lisa 
pointed out, indicating Visionary.
“Nah. 
That was boring anyway. The only bit I liked was when we went solving the 
mystery of who stole the device. I kind of liked being a detective.”
“You 
know,” spiffy considered, “I think I’m having an idea…”