broadwaybeyonder

Episode 4: Don’t Go Nowhere August 2nd, 1947. Los Angeles, California. Metropolitan State Hospital “It’s so lovely to see you come visit Miss Frost like this, Mr. Manfredi,” said the doctor. “You must care about her a great deal.” The man who looked like Joseph Manfredi knelt next to the chair where the once critically acclaimed actress Whitney Frost sat. Ever since her encounter with Zero Matter, she had been reduced to a near catatonic state. She just sat in her straitjacket and gazed out the window with a bland expression on her face. “We go a long way back,” ‘Joseph’ said gazing at her. “I just got to believe that she’s still in there. That one of these days you people could bring her back.” The doctor nodded nervously. “Well, there are always new therapies we try. But it will take time, and I can’t guarantee they won’t be painful. But there is a chance…” ‘Joseph’ rose to his feet, gently stroking Whitney’s cheek. “I got to go now,” he whispered. “You take care of yourself, beautiful. Ok?” Whitney remained silent. ‘Joseph’ turned and walked out of the room, and the doctor locked the door behind them. “We will keep you informed if there are any changes, Mr. Manfredi,” the doctor said as they walked down the hall. They passed a room and heard shouting coming from inside. ‘Joseph’ shook his head. “He’s still going at it, huh?” “Mr. Carter is just having a rough morning,” said the doctor, increasing his pace. “He’s been having a rough morning every time I come here,” remarked ‘Joseph’. “I wouldn’t want Whitney to be disturbed because that nut doesn’t know when to shut up.” “I’m sorry, Mr. Manfredi, but we’re…” “Doing the best you can. I know.” ‘Joseph’ turned down a highway that led to the front door of the hospital. “I can find my way from here. See you next week, doc. You just make sure you let me know if there’s any changes. Got it?” The doctor gulped as ‘Joseph’ walked out the door of the hospital. He gathered himself and turned toward a nurse with black hair pushing a cart with trays of medication. “Nurse? Nurse! I’m sorry, you’re one of the new interns. What was your name again?” “Locke, doctor. Nurse Locke.” “Well, Nurse Locke, if you could find me the doctor in charge of Mr. Carter, please? I want to discuss a possible change in Mr. Carter’s regimen.” Nurse Locke continued on her way. “Yes, doctor.” Outside of the hospital, Dmitri, still disguised as Joseph Mafredi, walked toward a large truck parked a few blocks away. He walked up to the drivers’ side and looked in on the muscular gentleman at the wheel. “Is everything prepared?” Dmitri said in Joseph’s voice. “Everything’s green, Mr. Manfredi. We’re ready to roll,” the man said. “The boss is just waiting for you to give him the word.” Dmitri gave a last look at the hospital. “Do it. He can have his fun now.” The man put his hand to his ear, tapping the small, circular device in it. “Did you hear that, Arcade? Client has given you the all clear.” “Well, goody, Mr. Chambers! Miss Locke! Are the rest of our guests ready to play?” Miss Locke covertly tapped the device tucked in her right ear. “Yes, Arcade. A good assortment of doctors, nurses, patients, and visitors. Should be quite a spectacle.” “Brilliant! And I must say you look quite a treat in that uniform, Miss Locke.” Miss Locke shot a look toward a hidden camera in the ceiling. “Thank you, Arcade.” “Alrighty then! Enough of the chit chat! It’s show time!” As if on cue, large metallic doors started slamming shut in front of each exit of the hospital. People shouted out in alarm as every avenue of escape was blocked by walls of steel. “Yowza, yowza, ladies and gentlemen!” a voice cried out over the PA system. “Step right up! Welcome to the midway! You might be crazy to get in here, but you would be even crazier to try to leave!” “What the hell?” the doctor said in shock. A group of interns rushed to one of the steel doors, but as soon as they touched it they screamed in pain. The sound of electric current and the smell of burning flesh filled the hallway. After a few moments, they fell dead on the tiled floor. “Ah ah ah!” chided Arcade. “Just one of the many shocking things to see, folks! Hurry, hurry! How about trying the shooting gallery? Hit the target, win the kewpie doll!” A panel opened in the wall to reveal a machine gun that peppered the hallway with bullets. People ran and screamed in terror as the sound of a calliope playing carnival music blared over the PA. Los Angeles, California. Auerbach Theatrical Agency (SSR Office). Rose Roberts sat at her desk typing as Aloysius Samberly walked in from the hidden entrance to the SSR. He leaned against the desk in an attempt to be casual. “So, Rose, how you doing today?” “Fine,” she said, not looking up from her typewriter. Samberly cleared his throat. “Well, um… would like to know what I’ve found about that key Chief Sousa gave me?” “Not particularly.” Samberly looked hurt. “Why not?” Rose turned towards him with a look of irritation. “Because you’ve been looking over that key for days and have found nothing. And if you had found something you would have told it to Chief Sousa, and no one knows where he is.” Samberly gave a sigh of resignation. “Ok, fine. I seem to have hit a brick wall. I haven’t learned anything new from any analysis I’ve tried on that key. Which is why, um… I was thinking about taking a break, and I was wondering if um… you could join me for a bite to eat?” Rose smiled at Samberly. “Why, Aloysius, are you asking me on a date?” “What? A date? No! Well, that is… Yes. I suppose I am.” Before Rose could answer, the entrance to the SSR office opened and a number of agents ran out. “What’s going on?” Rose asked Agent Ryan, who was in charge in Sousa’s absence. “We just got an anonymous tip,” he replied hurriedly. “Report of gunfire coming from the Met State Hospital.” “Isn’t that where Whitney Frost is being held?” said Samberly. “Don’t worry, Samberly,” one of the agents said mockingly. “We’re headed over there now. We won’t let her make you faint again.” The other agents chuckled as Ryan put on his hat. “Enough of the comedy! Get your gear! If someone is trying to bust out Frost, it’s our job to find out what’s going on and keep her behind bars! Move it!” Rose and Samberly looked on stunned as the agents all headed out the door. From his car parked across the street, Dmitri watched as the agents ran out of the Auerbach Talent Agency, piled into cars and sped off. He removed his mask of Joseph Manfredi, and looked at the new mask he had sitting on the seat next to him. It was the face of Daniel Sousa. Metropolitan State Hospital Bruce Carter fought against the leather restraints that held him pinned to his bed. He grunted with exertion, but they would not give. He could hear the sounds of screaming and gunfire from outside his door, and the incessant carnival music. People are in trouble. They need your help, Bruce. Bruce closed his eyes tight and tried to block out the voice. “No! I can’t do anything! I can do nothing!” Nothing? A Carter can do nothing?! It was the Carters that fought at Bunker Hill! It was the Carters that fought at Gettysburg! “I’ve already fought! I don’t want to fight anymore!” “Now here this, ladies and gentlemen!” Arcade’s voice shouted over the PA. “You want more thrills and chills? Well, don’t worry! You can find it all with Arcade! In just a moment, we’re going to have some more guests! That’s right, folks! Fresh from the intensive care ward, they’re the most blood thirsty bunch of loonies this side of the Mississippi! And they’re just dying to meet you! And you’ll be dying when you meet them!” Do you hear that, Bruce? That loon is going to release the violent patients! If the traps he’s set up don’t kill those people, then those criminals will! You have to help them! Bruce flexed his muscles and roared as he pushed against the straps. Finally they snapped and flew apart. Bruce fell of the bed, breathing heavily. You see? You do have strength left! Remember, Bruce? “Over there, over there! Send the word, send the word, over there! That the Yanks are coming, the Yanks are coming, the drums rum tumming everywhere!” Bruce covered his ears to block out the voice singing, gritting his teeth. He screamed in agony. “SHUT UP!!” He slammed a fist into the floor that smashed a hole in it. Bruce looked at his fist, then toward the white gift box sitting on the chair. The voice continued to sing. “So prepare, say a prayer. Send the word, send the word to beware.” Nurses and doctors ran down the hallway as a group of patients chased after them, armed with whatever they could find. They had passed Bruce’s door when the door flew off it’s hinges. The patients looked behind them in confusion. They saw Bruce Carter III, in blue pants, a shirt with an American flag on it, a cape, a tricorn hat and a mask. The Fighting Yank stood boldly with a resolute look on his face as the voice in his head sang all the louder. “We’re coming over, we’re coming over. And we won’t come back till it’s over over there!” OK: Can the Fighting Yank defeat Arcade’s death traps? What are Dmitri’s plans for the SSR? Stay Tuned and find out! Game On!

AND NOW THE CONCLUSION Daniel knocked over a table to give him and Howard cover. He got off two shots that caught one of their assailants in the shoulder. He ducked back down and glared at Howard as he fiddled with his jitterbug grenade. “Will you hurry up with that thing?” he yelled over the gunfire. “Haven’t you heard you can’t rush a genius?” Howard yelled back. Daniel fired another round and hit another man before he heard the click of the empty chamber of his gun. The four remaining gunmen charged forward into the room. “Howard, get back!” Daniel shouted. He had just used the overturned table to get to his feet when the first gunmen grabbed him and slammed him against a wall. Daniel through a punch to the man’s head that made him grunt, but he still held firm. Howard held up his hands as two of the gunmen approached him. “Look, fellas, this has all been a misunderstanding. How about you just let me walk away? I’ll give you Lauren Bacall’s phone number? what do you say?” Neither man looked impressed. Howard gave a sigh of resignation, then shoved a chair toward the gunmen. He made a dash for the door, only to get tackled by the third gunmen. Getting a grip on his zapper, Howard jammed it into the man’s neck, making him convulse and scream in pain before collapsing unconscious. Daniel got thrown to the floor within arms reach of his cane. He grabbed and swung it against the skull of his attacker, and jammed it into his gut. Clambering to his feet, Daniel swung again and the man fell to the floor. “HOWARD!” The two final gunmen had reloaded their guns and aimed them. Howard twisted a knob on the grenade, and suddenly it started beeping rapidly. “HIT THE DECK!” He flung the grenade and it landed between the two gunmen. They looked down in confusion as Howard and Daniel ducked under tables. The grenade exploded with a sonic blast that sent both of the gunmen flying into the wall and landing on top of each other in a heap. Howard and Daniel slowly rose from their hiding places. “Well, I guess they work,” said Daniel. “Of course, they worked,” said Howard. “I made them, didn’t I?” Daniel rolled his eyes and moved to the two gunmen. He grabbed the one that had landed and top and dragged him to the center of the room. He stuck his crutch into the gunman’s shoulder. “Who sent you? Why did they want Driscoll dead?” The man groaned and tried to squirm out from under the crutch. “Non ti diro niente, maiale Americano!” “Now that’s not a nice thing to say,” said Howard. Daniel looked incredulously at Howard. “You speak Italian too.” “Well, there was this heiress I met in Florence…” Daniel turned his attention back to the gunman. “I’m giving you one more chance to be cooperative.” “Ehi, poliziotto!” The other ‘jitterbugged’ gunmen had pulled out something from his pocket. “Vai all’inferno!” He pulled a pin from the device and threw it. “DANIEL! MOVE!” Howard grabbed Daniel and dragged him from the room as fast as he could. They had just reached the door when the grenade exploded. The two men were sent sprawling into the street as a fireball enveloped the Lady Coleen. Daniel’s ears were ringing as he coughed and turned to Howard. “You saved my life.” Howard held his head as he replied. “You’d do the same. Besides, who else going to make the report of how brilliant I was back there?” Daniel gave a short laugh, but then turned to look back at the burning pub. Whoever’s file that Driscoll had found, not only did someone want it back, but they weren’t afraid to kill anyone who had seen it. New York City, New York. The mansion of Howard Stark. Peggy slowly opened the front door and stepped inside, followed by Jarvis. “I still think this is not a wise course of action, Miss Carter,” he whispered. “Miss Adams is clearly an unstable woman, and not to be trusted.” They moved step by step toward the lounge. “I understand that, Mr. Jarvis,” Peggy said. “And bringing in the police or even the SSR would only force her into a corner. And I’m going to risk Angie’s life.” “Miss Carter! I hear you! Please come in!” Peggy and Jarvis stepped into the lounge to see Angie sitting in a chair, and Miss Adams standing behind her with a revolver pointed at her head. “Angie, are you alright?” Peggy said. Angie tried to give a brave face, but it wasn’t convincing. “Oh, been better. Be careful, English.” “Shut up!” Diana yelled. “Everyone just shut up!” She slowly raised the gun put her hands above her head. “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. I just don’t know what’s going on anymore.” Peggy stepped toward the chair, with Jarvis staying at the entranceway. “Just give me the gun, Diana. And we’ll get you some help.” Diana scoffed. “Help! They’ll just lock me away somewhere! But I’m not a criminal! I’m not crazy!” “Tell that to the folks at 46th Street,” snarked Angie. “I told you to be quiet!” Diana snapped. In an instant Peggy had leapt to Diana and wrestled the gun from her hands. She shoved Angie towards Jarvis, and pointed the gun at Diana as she crouched on the floor. “Now you are going to answer my questions,” Peggy said. “And you better answer them truthfully or I’ll make sure they lock you away. First, what do you remember from the theater?” Diana starting sobbing as she replied. “I don’t know. I remember you, I remember slapping Jervis.” Jarvis cleared his throat uncomfortably. “Then Walter fired me and everything went weird. It was like I was watching myself outside myself, you know? I could see myself doing things I’ve never done before. I’ve never picked up a gun in my life! I’m scared of guns! Honest! I only joined the USO because Daddy thought it would be good for my career!” All other words word drowned out in sobs. “But why did you come here? Why hold Angie hostage?” Diana looked at Peggy through her tears. “I know who you are. I can tell. You are a highly trained operative. Don’t ask me how I know, because I don’t! You got to help me! I’ll never work in this town again if this keeps happening to me! You got to help me! Please!” Peggy turned and walked back to Angie and Jarvis. “See? She’s completely flipped!” said Angie. “She is rather unhinged, Miss Carter,” Jarvis said. “Shall I call the SSR?” Peggy looked back at the weeping actress. “I’m not sure. She may be an actress, but she seems particularly in earnest. It’s possible that someone has given her training and then hid it from her memory; only able to access it when she feels threatened.” Jarvis raised an eyebrow. “Hypnosis? Like Dr. Fennhoff?” “Fennhoff has been in solitary confinement ever since the Leviathan incident. Perhaps we should take Miss Adams to a doctor, someone we can trust.” “Dr. Benton.” The three turned to look at Diana. “What did you say?” asked Peggy. “Dr. Benton,” Diana said, still huddled on the floor. “We can trust him.” “Who’s Dr. Benton?” Diana looked confused. “What do you mean, ‘who’s Dr. Benton’?” “You’re the one who said his name,” Angie said. Diana rose to her feet holding her head. “I don’t know any Dr. Benton. You see? I keep saying and doing things and I have no idea how I know how to say and do them!” Peggy looked to Jarvis. “Mr. Jarvis, if you would be so kind as to check the directory for any Dr. Benton’s?” Jarvis gave a concerned look toward Diana. “Are you sure that is a good idea, Miss Carter?” “I’ll answer that: No!” Angie interrupted. “You’re actually going to let her lead you a wild goose chase when every cop in the city is looking for her?” Peggy placed a hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry, Angie. But I have a feeling something bigger is going on here than an upset starlet. Perhaps this Benton can give us some answers.” Angie sighed. “Ok. Fine. But I’m coming with you.” “No. Absolutely not! It’s much too dangerous.” “That’s why you’ll need me to come along. Hey, I didn’t live in New York without learning a thing or two. If you’re going to be dragging Mr. Jarvis around, then I’m coming too!” Peggy and Jarvis shared a look. “I guess she isn’t leaving us much of a choice, is she, Mr. Jarvis?” “Not particularly, Miss Carter,” said Jarvis dryly. “I don’t know where she gets it from.” Manhattan, New York City. The mansion of Silvio Manfredi. Joseph Manfredi approached the doorway with two Maggia standing guard. They stepped aside and opened the door to reveal the drawing room of Silvio Manfredi. He sat in a velvet chair at an ornately carved oak desk. He was thin and pale, with hair that had long since turned white with age. But the eyes of the man were still alert and active. Standing in front of the desk, was Count Nefaria. “Joseph, my boy!” he said pleasantly. He embraced Joseph, who half heartedly returned it. “It’s been far too long!” “Good to see you again, count,” said Joseph, before looking past him to the man sitting at the desk. “Hiya, Pop.” Silvio Manfredi stared coldly at his son. “You’re late. I was expecting you to land in New York hours ago.” Joseph moved a chair and sat down, not breaking eye contact with Silvio. “We had engine trouble. I had step out of the plane and push.” Nefaria chuckled. “Ah, I’ve missed your humor, Joseph. Didn’t get it from you, eh, Silvio? Not much for jokes, our Silvermane.” “There are many things that a son does not learn from his father,” Silvio stated. “Unfortunately.” Count Nefaria cleared his throat, then gave a bow. “With your permission, Silvio, I will take my leave.” “You may go, Nefaria. I will you see you tomorrow evening.” And giving a final nod to Joseph, Count Nefaria walked out the room and closed the door. The two Manfredi’s sat in silence for a moment. “Aren’t you going to ask me how I’ve been, Pop?” Joseph said sarcastically. “Say how much I’ve grown? Or maybe you could tell me why you really need to send that creep Dmitri to get me to come here?” “Dmitri is loyal to Maggia. A trait you sadly lack. He will stay in charge of our Los Angeles activities until the matter here has been dealt with.” Silvio suddenly burst into a hacking cough. Joseph stayed in his chair, unmoved. “Are you getting worse, Pop?” Silvio glared at Joseph. “I’m fine. You are just like the rest of the families! Vultures! Buzzards waiting for me to die so that they can fight for the head of the table! Well, they aren’t going to get it just yet, and neither will you! I’ve led the Maggia through three federal investigations, a Depression, and two world wars! I will not lose my place because the city has become overrun with masked lunatics!” Shaking, Silvio lifted himself from his chair and moved to look out the window. “At first, we thought it was just the boys telling stories. Some monster killing our people. Then the hits kept coming. Then Fancy Dan’s boys got beaten up by another man with a cape and a sword. Now Nefaria tells me one of the actresses in his show put on a mask and nearly killed him!” Silvio turned to look toward Joseph. “The heads of the families are getting nervous, thinking that that the Maggia is looking weak. That it’s time for new leadership.” “So you want me here so I can around looking for psychos in masks?” asked Joseph. Silvio moved back to the desk, breathing shakily. “Don’t worry, Joseph. I would never dream of entrusting this to you alone, not if I wanted it done right. To deal with men like this, we will be needing some help from outside the family.” Silvio pressed a button under his desk, and a book case sild aside. From the hidden passage stepped a woman with brown hair in a black and red dress. “Hello, Joey,” Dottie Underwood smiled sweetly. “Gee, it’s so nice to see you again.” Joseph jumped to his feet and pointed at Dottie. “What the hell is she doin’ here?!” “Mind your language with the lady, Joseph,” Silvio said sternly. Joseph rushed to the desk and leaned toward Silvio. “This ain’t no lady, Pop! The SSR are after her! She’s nuts!” “Says the man whose girlfriend tied me to a chair and tried to kill me,” said Dottie nonchalantly. “I must admit it took me a couple of days to get over that.” Joseph ignored her as he looked at Silvio. “Pop, listen to me! She’s got an obsession about this SSR agent, a dame called Carter!” “Miss Underwood has already informed me about her… interests,” said Silvio. “And Count Nefaria has told me that his attempted assassination was interrupted by the timely presence of a Miss Carter.” Dottie’s smile grew. “I knew she’d come back home. Peggy and I had so much fun together, but we’re not done yet.” “You can’t trust her!” Joseph said glaring at Dottie. “I can trust her as much as I can trust you, Joseph!” Silvio snapped. He slowly rose from his chair and was assisted by Dottie as Joseph looked on in disgust. “Tomorrow, we will be having a meeting the heads of all the Maggia families. During which time I will explain my plans to deal with these masked nuisances for good. And if Miss Carter should interfere with Maggia business, then she will die with them!” Stay Tuned for Episode 4: Don’t Go Nowhere!

While I do appreciate the... spirited debate we got going here... XD XD, I would like to encourage everybody to check out and vote for the other two 3v3 matches as well. This tournament is all in good fun, but I would like to avoid ties and tiebreakers that make it overstay it's welcome.

3 v 3 Snow Ball Fight! The competitors can take the battle anywhere in the castle grounds. Get hit by 5 snowballs, you’re out. Whoever gets out all three of their opponents, wins! If the losing team loses again, they will be eliminated. Vote for who you think wins, and stay tuned to find out which team goes all the way to end to win the tournament. For the blog post that is the inspiration for this rumble, click here! Calm Before the (Snow)Storm - broadwaybeyonder - The Electric Ferret Message Boards For the match that I wrote that also used the castle set up, click here! Match 16928 Snow White vs. Cinderella - CBUB Rated Matches - The Electric Ferret Message Boards Game On!

3 v 3 Snow Ball Fight! The competitors can take the battle anywhere in the castle grounds. Get hit by 5 snowballs, you’re out. Whoever gets out all three of their opponents, wins! If the losing team loses again, they will be eliminated. Vote for who you think wins, and stay tuned to find out which team goes all the way to end to win the tournament. For the blog post that is the inspiration for this rumble, click here! Calm Before the (Snow)Storm - broadwaybeyonder - The Electric Ferret Message Boards For the match that I wrote that also used the castle set up, click here! Match 16928 Snow White vs. Cinderella - CBUB Rated Matches - The Electric Ferret Message Boards Game On!

3 v 3 Snow Ball Fight! The competitors can take the battle anywhere in the castle grounds. Get hit by 5 snowballs, you’re out. Whoever gets out all three of their opponents, wins! If the losing team loses again, they will be eliminated. Vote for who you think wins, and stay tuned to find out which team goes all the way to end to win the tournament. For the blog post that is the inspiration for this rumble, click here! Calm Before the (Snow)Storm - broadwaybeyonder - The Electric Ferret Message Boards For the match that I wrote that also used the castle set up, click here! Match 16928 Snow White vs. Cinderella - CBUB Rated Matches - The Electric Ferret Message Boards Game On!

*This blog is meant to be the starting point for a series of winter themed rumbles. It will be featuring a plot device I used in Snow White vs Cinderella. If you want to see that, click here! Match 16928 Snow White vs. Cinderella - CBUB Rated Matches - The Electric Ferret Message Boards If you want to see what’s in store, read on!* Calm Before the (Snow) Storm Once upon a time, the wielders of magic looked across the expanse of time and space between their kingdoms. They were Yen Sid, Merlin, the Genies, the Fairies, and the other great magicians, wizards, and witches. By combing their powers, they set about establishing several smaller realms between the kingdoms. They were a collection of castles and lands that would allow people from different kingdoms to gather and explore together. One castle in particular became known as the retreat for the princesses, a place where could get away from the stress of ruling their kingdoms. For many years, the princesses would come to relax and enjoy their fellowship, and all was well. Until one day… Elsa looked around the courtyard of the castle to examine her handiwork. The entire grounds were covered with a soft blanket of snow, and icicles of varying lengths stretched down from the roof. “Oh, sis! You’ve outdone yourself this year!” Elsa smiled and gave a nod of approval before turning to face Anna. “Thank you, Anna. I hope that the other princesses appreciate it.” “Of course they will! Why wouldn’t they? Everything’s so calm and peaceful and….” “OOT OF THE WAY!!” Anna jumped behind Elsa as a sled sped through the open gates of the castle into the courtyard. It kicked up a cloud of snow that hurtled toward the sisters until Elsa used her magic to disperse it. Sitting on the sled looking sheepish, were Merida and Rapunzel. Merida still clutched the edge of the sled, while Rapunzel sat in the back with her hair wrapped around her like a scarf. “Um, good morning, Princess Elsa, Princess Anna,” said Rapunzel nervously. “Merida was just showing me how to ride this thing, and it kind of got away from us. Didn’t it, Merida?” Merida shot Rapunzel a look, who jerked her head towards the sisters. Merida looked back and cleared her throat. “Oh, yes. That’s what happened. I’ll need to talk to Tor back home. He just doesn’t build sleds like he used to.” Elsa looked at Anna and sighed. “Were you about to say quiet?” Anna peeked behind Elsa and carefully walked around her to the sled. “Oh they’re just having some fun, Elsa. No harm done. Besides, you can’t blame them for enjoying this weather you…” Anna was interrupted by a snowball hitting her in the face. She sputtered as the sound of stifled giggles came from one of the archways. Elsa raised an eyebrow and walked toward the archway to see Ariel, Jasmine, and Belle in winter gear. She frowned at the three princesses as they stood with their hands behind their backs, desperately trying to keep from laughing. “Would any of you happen to have seen who threw that snowball?” Elsa asked. The three princesses all shook their heads. “Snowball? Someone threw a snowball?” Belle asked wide eyed. “I wouldn’t even know what a snowball looked like,” said Jasmine. “Me neither,” snickered Ariel. Elsa rolled her eyes and turned to walk away. Sharing a final grin, Ariel, Jasmine, and Belle all pulled out the snowballs they had hid behind their backs and threw them at Elsa. Elsa spun around and used her magic to send the projectiles flying over her head. Unfortunately, they proceeded to land directly on Anna, Merida, and Rapunzel. Merida wiped the snow from her hair and grinned at the snowballers. “So, you want to play, do ya?” She scooped two handfuls of snow, with Rapunzel and Anna following suit. Ariel, Jasmine, and Belle scattered laughing into the courtyard for cover. Within an instant, fozen projectiles were being hurled back and forth across the lawn. “Ladies! Ladies, please!” Elsa shouted, but to no avail. Across the courtyard, Snow White and Cinderella walked through an archway. “Oh! What’s going on hereMMPH!” said Snow White before receiving a mouthful of snow. “Ha! Sorry, Snow White! Or is it Snow Ball?” laughed Ariel. Cinderella pulled Snow White behind a tree just in time to avoid another volley of snow. “I should of known you three would be starting up again!” Cinderella said as she started rolling snow. “You’ve been waiting for this ever since Belle told you about snow!” Elsa stood in the center of the playful warfare until finally she raised her hands to the sky. “ENOUGH!” Instantly every snowball that was still in the air stopped in mid-flight, suspended by Elsa’s magic. The other princesses dropped the snow they had in their hands as Elsa let the snowballs drop to the ground. She looked around the courtyard disapprovingly. “I can’t believe this. I give you all the gift of winter and you instantly turn into a mob of lunatics!” Anna took a step forward. “Elsa, calm down. They didn’t mean any harm. There’s nothing wrong with a little snowball fight. We had them when we were younger, remember?” “But this is not a little snowball fight,” Elsa argued. “If you all kept this up you’d probably wreck the whole castle!” Merida crossed her arms and pouted. “But we were winnin’!” Jasmine scoffed. “Oh please. We would have won!” Elsa silenced any further debate with a glare. Then she took a deep breath to calm herself. “Very well. You want to have a snowball fight? Fine. Then we’re going to try to keep it under control. Meet in the main dining room tomorrow morning. I’ll tell you how we’re going to handle this.” Elsa stalked out of the courtyard, leaving the other princesses to look on in confusion. The next morning, the six princesses made their way into the dining room, only to find they weren’t alone. The hall was filled with familiar faces: Aurora, Pocahontas, Esmeralda, Megara, Mulan, Jane, Kida, Tiana, Moana, and Raya. All were dressed for the winter weather and talking in hushed, excited tones. “Do you have any idea what your sister is planning?” Ariel asked Anna. “Don’t look at me,” Anna shrugged. “She didn’t even come up to our room. She said she had ‘things’ to take care of.” The door to the dining room swung open and Elsa walked in. She looked over the excited and curious faces before her. “Thank you all for coming. I understand that you all are very excited about the snowfall I’ve created for the castle.” Some of the women shouted agreement and thanks. “But I also know that some of you might decide to get carried away and turn our castle grounds into a snowball battlefield.” A couple of knowing glances towards Ariel, Jasmine, and Belle and some snickers followed. “Now I don’t want to interfere in your fun, but I believe we can do it a way that isn’t going to turn into a free for all. So, I’m happy to announce that starting today, we will be having a snowball fight tournament!” The dining room started buzzing with excitement, and Elsa raised a hand to quiet it. “Yes, I know. You choose who you want to have your teams, and then you will be free to have your snowball fights, two teams at a time. If you get hit by five snowballs, you’re out. If all three of your team members are out, you lose the fight. Lose two fights, and your team is out. Seem fair?” The princesses nodded in agreement. “Oh. And one more thing,” Elsa said, smiling sweetly. “Since you all are so ready to go, I figured I might invite some more people to join us.” She strode over to the floor length mirror and laid her hand on the frame. “Visitatores intrant!” The image in the mirror blurred and then six more figures entered. The princesses looked on in shock as Elsa introduced them. “Ladies, allow me to introduce you to your competition: the Swan Princess Odette! From Russia, Anastasia! From Transylvania, Mavis Dracula! From Clan Hofferson, Astrid! From Far, Far Away, Princess Fiona! And from the city of El Dorado, Chel!” Chel waved at the dumbstruck princesses and grinned. “Hey, ladies. Hope you don’t mind if we win this little game of yours?” Megara stepped forward toward Chel. “What makes you think we’re gonna let you?” Snow White got in between the two and looked to Elsa. “Elsa, are you sure you know what your doing? I mean, we’ve never had people not part of the kingdoms come to the castle before.” “Well, excuse us,” Astrid said sarcastically. “Elsa invited us to play a game with you lot. And that’s what we’re going to do. If you don’t like it, then you better be ready for a fight.” Merida turned to Rapunzel. “Oh, I like her!” Snow White looked around the dining room at the princesses. “Do you all still want to go through with this?” The answer echoed throughout the dining room. “YES!” Snow White sighed and turned to Elsa. “Very well. But you better make sure that everyone is following your rules.” Elsa nodded and smiled. “Of course I will. Now, who wants to go first?” OK: Over the next few weeks, I’ll be posting a series of rumbles featuring the princesses mentioned in this post. Be sure to vote and check out the results to see who wins! Have a happy holiday season! Let’s Snow!

AFTER TWO AND A HALF MONTHS, THIS IS THE BOTTOM LINE! Andel Sanap: Miss Cage dodges and rolls out of the way of Miss America swinging Anamaria’s sword! The Lucky Charm falls from the sky into her hands! Al Rossi: A hair dryer? Cassie doesn’t look impressed. She tosses it aside, and goes back to the yoyo and top. That could be a mistake, Andel! The Lucky Charm power may create random objects, but they can be used to win a fight if Cassie would just think! Andel Sanap: But Miss Cage knows she’s in a fight for survival against Miss America! She flings the yoyo and Miss America soars past it! She charges in with Venom, but Miss America Petal Bursts past her to the other side! She’s charging up and ice blast! Al Rossi: Cassie just avoids getting turned into an icicle! She goes to Trini’s power daggers! Leaps up and tries to go for Glow Kick! Andel Sanap: But Miss America easily moves out of the way! Miss Cage lunges with the daggers but Miss America’s got her! Kick to the midsection! Strikes to the head! Takes out the black light projector and nails a shot to the face of Miss Cage! She is being completely out maneuvered here, Al! Al Rossi: But she’s not giving up! She lands a strike with the dagger across the chest of Miss America! If it wasn’t for Miss America’s powers that could have been a fatal blow! Andel Sanap: Miss America’s staggered! She’s against the ropes! Miss Cage with a burst of strength and By The Force! The force of her charge sends them BOTH over the top rope! Al Rossi: Miss America hoists herself into the air and flies to safety, but Cassie is still dangling! Miss America looks unsure. It isn’t very heroic to take advantage of this situation. But it’s all come down to this! She summons a gust of winter wind and sends it at Cassie! Andel Sanap: Miss Cage is holding on for dear life! Miss America turns up the power! We can see frostbite on Miss Cage’s hands! Al Rossi: She could lose her fingers if she isn’t careful! Wait! She’s slipping! She’s losing her grip aaaaaand SHE DROPS! SHE DROPS! MISS AMERICA! MISS AMERICA HAS WON! Justin Roberts: Ladies and Gentlemen! The Winner of the Battlesphere Battle Royal: MIIIIIIIIIIISS AAAAAMERICAAAAAA! Andel Sanap: It took over an hour! 30 truly great competitors! But in a little of 30 minutes, Miss America is the winner of an incredible battle royal! Al Rossi: She lands in the ring and drops to her knees to bask in the USA chants from the crowd. Philippa has beamed in. Let’s see if we can get a few words! Philippa Forrester: Miss America, let me join all of these fans in congratulating you on an amazing victory! Six eliminations to your credit! And one of those power sets will be permanently given to you to use in any future TCC sanctioned matches. Is there anything you would like to say to everyone here in the arena? Miss America: All I can say is thank you to all of you for your support. Some people might not have considered a WWII vet like me to have been able to keep up with all these ladies. But I’m glad I took the chance to step into this ring. Congratulations to everyone who took part, especially Cassie. You did your mother proud. Philippa Forrester: But the question on everyone’s mind, who’s powers are you going to choose? Miss America: All of those powers are very impressive. But I believe it would be only right for me choose the power that gave me the edge and allowed me secure the final elimination I needed to win. I think I’m going to pick Elsa’s powers. You never know when a blizzard might come in handy. Chloe Bourgeois: RIDICULOUS! UTTERLY COMPLETELY RIDICULOUS! Al Rossi: Oh, not again! Andel Sanap: Did Miss Bourgeois learn nothing from July 4th? She’s using the teleporter and now she’s in the ring too! Chloe Bourgeois: This is totally unfair! After all my hard work, all the people I eliminated, this World War II fossil gets her pick of powers! This is utterly… Crowd: RIDICULOUS! Chloe Bourgeois: SHUT UP! Philippa Forrester: Chloe, you knew the rules of the match when you signed up for it! Miss America is the winner. Chloe Bourgeois: Ugh! Don’t tell me about the rules! Where is Pegasus? This was all his idea! Why don’t you come out here and do something about this?! Andel Sanap: Well, there is Maximillion Pegasus at the entranceway. He’s got a microphone, as well. Maximillion Pegasus: There, there, Chloe girl. Unfortunately, this match is over. But if you or anyone else has a problem with it, or with any other decision, then allow me to introduce you all to the true masters of the TCC! PA: NO CHANCE! THAT’S WHAT YOU GOT! Al Rossi: Oh my God. That music! Don’t tell me! Andel Sanap: Al, what is it? What’s happening? Al Rossi: It is! IT’S VINCE MCMAHON! The head of the WWE is in charge of the TCC?! But he’s not alone! That’s Andrew Ryan! And David Xanatos! Andel Sanap: The king of Hell Crowley! The Goblin King Jareth! Mongul! And… BY THE FORCE! RASSILON! Al Rossi: A collection of the most diabolical minds in all the multiverses! They are running the TCC?! Crowley: Congrats on the win, sweetheart. You want Elsa’s magic? It’s all yours. But you should have read the fine print on your contract. Andel Sanap: Crowley snaps his fingers, and Miss America drops to the apron screaming in pain! Get medical in there! Turn off the Battlesphere! Al Rossi: She’s been teleported out! She’s rising to her feet, holding her head. Look at her eyes! She’s standing with the TCC board! Was this the plan all along? Get the strongest competitor under their control?! Andel Sanap: The crowd looks confused and angry, Al, and I can’t say I blame them. But one thing is certain: the TCC is under new management, and it will never be the same. Al Rossi: Folks, I don’t know what to say. For now, all we can do is wait and see what happens next. Until next time, for Justin Roberts, Philippa Forrester, and Andel Sanap, I’m Al Rossi saying so long from TCC Arena. Sonya Blade: You did good out there, Cassie. Cassie Cage: Way better than you, anyway. Sonya Blade: Don’t push it. *To everyone who voted and followed along with this insane arc, THANK YOU!*

Match title from: Warren Zevon - Werewolves of London (Official Audio) - YouTube

Chapter 3: He’s the Hairy Handed Gent Jack Russell groaned as his eyes attempted to focus in the darkened room. He tried to move his arms only to find that both of his wrists were manacled and metal chains extended to the stone wall behind him. A leather collar was around his neck and handcuffs were strapped to his ankles, all with chains clinking against each other. Squinting, Jack could make out a female figure in front of him, fixing him with a cold stare. “You’re finally awake. Good. Now we can proceed.” Jack tried to pull away but the chains wouldn’t give. “Who are you?!” he yelled. “Where am I?!” The woman stepped closer to Jack. He could make out the two ponytails in her hair. “This is the Tower of Shadows,” she intoned in her best attempt at a Dracula accent. “This is where you shall remain, until you die. And, perhaps, even beyond Death itself!” Jack looked back in terror, then the woman burst out laughing. “I’m sorry,” she chuckled. “I’ve always wanted to say that!” She gave a sultry smile as she walked further into the stone room. “But come to think of it, this does remind me of a video I saw once. A sexy woman? A semi-attractive man tied to a wall? Then the guy says…” “Just keep the hell away from me!” Jack shouted. The woman snapped her fingers. “Yes! Just like that. But unfortunately for you, furball, I’m not here to play.” She walked back to the oak door entrance to the room and picked up a plastic tray. “Meatloaf? Potatoes? Digger wanted to give you hot dogs, but we all agreed that would be too on the nose.” She set the tray on the ground, then moved to unlock the bonds on Jack’s wrists and ankles. She gave the tray a shove with her foot . “Go ahead, eat. Though just to give a heads up, Tick Tock isn’t exactly a master chef. You’d think a guy who can see the future would be able to see how his food turns out.” Jack stared at the tray in disbelief. “Just who are the hell are you people? You shoot at me! You hit me with a shovel! Then you…” He looked at the tatters of what was his shirt and jeans. “Oh God. What did you make me do?!” “Calm down, wolf boy. We have nothing to do with those guys who were chasing you. The only reason we know about little Miss Madball is because Tick Tock snuck a peek into your future to see where the meeting would take place.” Jack pulled as far as the collar would let him, stopping a few feet short of the woman. “So what do you want from me? A thank you for chaining me in a dungeon instead of being strapped to an autopsy table somewhere?” The woman rolled her eyes. “Right now, I’d settle for you eating this stupid food. Go ahead. I made sure they didn’t slip any silver in there.” Jack slowly crouched next to the tray, and picked up some meatloaf with his hands. He slowly put it in his mouth and ate it. “See?” the woman smirked. “Now be a good boy, and mommy will give you ice cream for dessert. Oh. I’m Moth, by the way. Welcome to the team.” Hannibal King stared at the figure in the black cloak. He reached for his holster but his gun was gone. “Forgive the intrusion, detective,” the man’s voice boomed. “You’re property will be returned to you after we have finished.” King scrambled to his feet and charged toward the man, only for a woman to seemingly appear out of nowhere and flip him on to his back. The woman held King’s gun and phone in her hands, and put her foot across his throat. “Where did you come from?” King gasped. “Oh, she was always here, detective,” the man said. “Her dance simply blurred your mind to prevent you from seeing her. Let him up, Dansen.” Dansen removed her foot and King massaged his neck as he turned to face the man. “Alright, alright. We’ll talk. First let’s talk about who you are!” “I am Shroud,” the shadowy figure said. “I wish to engage your services.” King finally made it to his feet, not breaking eye contact with Shroud. “My services, huh? Funny, cuz I never thought my services would interest a mob boss. That is you, right? The guy who’s been taking out some of the major players in the LA underworld? Were those freaks I saw at Tombstone’s with you?” “You are partially correct, detective. I am merely a man who believes the same things you do: that this city is on the brink of falling into chaos at the hands of cruel, violent men. These are men who do not fear the law, or those who enforce it. But they do fear me. And I shall bring them to heel.” King turned to look at Dansen, who continued to glare at him. “Sure. And running all of their rackets shouldn’t hurt your bank account either. Look, if you know anything about me, you should know I’m not some dirty cop. I lost my job with LAPD because I wouldn’t look the other way. Why should I work for you?” The darkness billowed from Shroud’s cape, surrounding King and making Dansen and Shroud seem to vanish. “Because I can give you what you want, detective,” said Shroud from the blackness. “Assist me, and I give you my solemn vow that Tombstone will be brought down. I will require your connections with LAPD to acquire some information for me.” The darkness gave way to reveal a square spot on the roof, where King’s gun and phone sat. But another cellphone sat between them. “This cellphone belongs to a young man named Jack Russell. He is another individual I desire to join my organization. However, he is being pursued by another player in the game. A group that his well-organized, and well-equipped.” “So what do you want from me?” King shouted into the darkness. “Why don’t you just send your playmates after these guys?” “I will not send my team into an unknown situation, detective. If this group is looking to acquire their own super powered forces, they pose a risk to everyone in this city.” “The way I see it,” interrupted King. “Your whole crew is a risk to this city. Why don’t we just give a call to the Avengers and let them handle it?” King could of sworn he heard a faint chuckle coming from the shadows. “The Avengers. They are far too busy fighting cosmic threats and world conquerors to deal with this. They are the shining heroes. Figures who gladly stand before the public in the light of day, giving them something to look up to.” King felt the hairs on his neck stand up, as if someone was moving behind him. “Then… who are you people?” Shroud’s voice whispered in his ear. “Consider us… the Night Shift.” King spun around and threw a punch but hit nothing, only to feel a kick take out his left knee and punch to his face send him to the ground. “Your initiative is admirable, detective,” Shroud said. “But at the moment you just need to make a choice. You can either choose to fight me and lose. Or you can work with me, and together we can make certain that Tombstone never harms another person again. Do we have an agreement?” King rose to his knees then looked around the darkened rooftop. “Yes. But when you take down Tombstone, I want to be there to see it. Now. What do you want me to do with this Russell guy’s phone?” The darkness started to disappear as Shroud’s voice echoed. “Jack Russell was in contact with a woman named Alex Bell. It is most likely an alias. Check the LAPD’s database for who it belongs to. You will make a report of your findings on this roof to me. You have three days.” The darkness had completely cleared, leaving King alone on the rooftop with his gun and two cellphones in front of him. He picked up his and searched the files. As he had guessed, the pictures of Shroud’s people that he had taken had been erased. Grumbling, King holstered his gun, and picked up Russell’s phone. Terri wasn’t going to like this. He made his way to the fire escape as the full moon shown down on the roof. Jack was almost finished with the meatloaf as Moth sat on the ground in front of him with her legs crossed. Jack took another bite and looked up at her. “Do you have anything else you could be doing?” “No, not really,” she replied. Jack grabbed a handful of mashed potatoes and scarfed it down. “So. Could you at least tell me where I am?” “Well, I was honest about one thing. This place is called the Tower of Shadows. You probably never heard of the show, haven’t you?” Jack shook his head, and Moth shrugged. “Not surprising. Some old monster movie show from the 70s. Digger used to work on it as a stagehand.” Jack wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Digger. That wouldn’t happen to be the guy with the shovel?” Moth smiled. “Well, well. Abs and brains. Yeah, that’s Digger. Shroud found him here in the Tower. He made it his home, after he killed the cast and crew.” Jack spit out some meatloaf in shock. “Ugh. I’m sorry, what?” Moth leaned in closer and lowered her voice. “That’s right. He killed them all. According to Digger, they all treated him like crap. He was just some horror movie geek that worked for them. Then, one night, the host of the show, Mr. Gravely, invited him to come here to audition for a part in the show. When Digger got here, Gravely seemed to have lost his mind, killing two of the actresses. But it turned to be a trick by Gravely and the rest to humiliate him. Digger says everything went black, and when he came to, he was surrounded by all of their dead bodies and holding a bloody shovel.” Jack gulped nervously, as Moth’s expression grew more excited. “He buried the bodies in the backyard, then hung himself by the chandelier in the living room. That’s where he died. And after the rope finally broke, the shock of the fall woke him up.” Jack started to twitch slightly. “You mean, he really is a zombie?” Moth picked up the tray. “As sure as you’re a real werewolf.” Jack shuddered and shook his head, wrapping his arms around himself. Moth’s face suddenly turned pale. “Jack? Are you alright?” Jack pounded the ground with his fists, which were already starting to be covered with fur. “Moth!” he groaned. “The chains! Quickly!” Moth dropped the tray and grabbed Jack’s right wrist. She quickly locked the manacle in place, but before she could move to the left, Jack grabbed her by the throat. “I can feel it!” Jack snarled. “It’s coming! It’s coming for you!” “Misfit! Digger!” Moth screamed. “Get in here!” The two giants swung open the door and grabbed ahold of Jack’s arms, causing Moth to fall to the floor. “Take it easy, Russell!” Digger grunted. “Or not!” growled Misfit. With a roar Jack yanked the chain out of the wall. Misfit tumbled on top of Digger and Jack leapt through the door and into the creaking hallway, becoming more wolf-like as he went. “Get off of me, freakshow!” Digger shouted, shoving Misfit to one side. Misfit pushed back with a dangerous gleam in his eye. “Why don’t try pushing me again, pus brain!” “Oh will both of you shut up and stop him!” Moth yelled, reforming her wings and flying through the door. By the time they made it down the ornate staircase the werewolf had already sent Tatterdemalion and Needle crashing into some suits of armor. Hangman sent his rope around his waist but the werewolf slashed him with his claws and sent him flying into the study. Tick Tock was hiding behind the sofa, staring wide eyed at the scene. Then the door of the Tower of Shadows swung open and darkness entered the room. Shroud and Dansen had returned. Dansen raised her hands in preparation only for the werewolf to leap on her and bring her to the ground. Shroud sent a current of darkness around the head of the werewolf, and began to rain down blow after blow. The werewolf howled as it finally grabbed hold of Shroud’s robes. Giving a tug, the werewolf raised it’s other paw to come crashing down on his face. But Shroud blocked the blow, gritting his teeth as he gazed at the werewolf with sightless eyes. “You are a guest in our home, Mr. Russell. And it is time you learn some manners.” OK: Shroud (Generation of darkness, Daredevil level extrasensory perception, expert martial artist and acrobat) (Full strength) vs Werewolf by Night (Full strength) If Shroud can immobilize Werewolf and get him back in his cell, he wins. Game On!

AND NOW THE CONCLUSION Hangman’s rope tightened around Robbie’s throat, while Hangman held up Juan by his throat. He threw him toward Tombstone who batted him out of the air. Giving a shout of rage, Hangman swung his fist and connected flush with Tombstone’s jaw. But the pale crime boss didn’t flinch. He delivered a headbutt to Hangman that sent him careening into Moth. “Hey! Watch it!” she yelled. Bushwacker raised his gun-arm and pointed it towards Moth. “Watch yourself, little girl!” Percy reached into his sleeve and pulled out a squirting flower. With a squeeze of the trigger, the flower sprayed it’s contents on Bushwacker’s arm. “ARGH!!!” But the liquid was not water. It was acid. Smoke rose from Bushwacker’s arm as he gripped it in pain. Barton snagged his bag of loot off the floor. “I got the money! Let’s get out of here!” Tombstone advanced toward Percy, who squeezed the trigger again. But Tombstone kept moving forward as the acid burned holes in his suit. “You’re gonna have to do better than that!” Suddenly the sound of running, heavy footsteps rumbled down the hall. It was the misshapen driver of the car, his ponytail flapping behind him. He clotheslined two guards as he ran past. “Outta my way, losers!” Misfit snarled. “Hey, Mr. Tombstone! You’re butt whupping’s ready!” He charged past his colleagues and slammed into Tombstone, both men crashing through the office wall. Moth stretched her fabric wings and rose into the air. “Move it, morons! Time to go!” Percy and Barton both reached into their sleeves and each pulled out a five pointed star. Tossing them to the floor, the stars started to glow and rise off the ground. The Brothers Grimm leapt onto them and followed after Moth. “You too, Jason! Get Misfit!” “But there’s more criminals to punish!” Hangman called back. “Oh shut up and move your butt!” Hangman grumbled his complaints, but extended his rope through the hole in wall. He took off running as the rope dragged Misfit behind him, with bruises and a black eye but still swinging punches. “Aw, come on, Hangman! I had him on the ropes!” Tombstone walked through the hole, his suit torn and tattered, but not a mark on him. Hannibal King jumped out of his car at the sight. The Lincoln Funeral Home’s doors flew off their hinges, as a girl with wings, and two masked men on stars soared out into the open air. Hanging off of one of the stars was the misshapen figure who had laid waste to the men on the lawn, and a man in a hood. King took out his phone and took several pictures as the bizarre group disappeared into the night sky. “Hey, man! What the hell are you doin’?” King turned to see three of Tombstone’s men moving towards him. “I bet he’s with those freaks that wrecked the boss’ place!” one of them said. “Look, fellas,” said King, trying to maintain a calm tone. “This is just a misunderstanding.” But the men weren’t listening. One ran towards King with fists raised, but King was able to easily trip him up. The shorter one pulled a knife, but King was able to catch his arm and take him to the ground. Unfortunately, the third man was able to sneak behind King with a baseball bat, striking him on the base of the neck and sending King into unconsciousness. A few hours later, King was still nursing his headache leaning against an LAPD police car. The air was filled with the squawk of radios and murmur of officers. Tombstone was standing just a few feet away, being interviewed by a brown haired man with a mustache. King unfortunately knew that man all too well. Detective Martin Soap, a man who by some miracle that King wasn’t aware of was still employed by the LAPD in any function other than a janitor. “How’s your head, King?” He turned to see a Black woman in a purple suit coat and skirt. “I’ll live, Detective Lee,” King said unconvincingly. Terri Lee gave him a small grin. “You should be. You’re lucky they didn’t hit you where you had anything vital.” “Ha ha,” King groaned. “Just what’s going to happen with Tombstone? What’s he talking to Soap for?” Terri leaned against the car next to King. “He says that he was the victim of robbery. Some kids broke into his vault and stole his money.” “Some kids?!” King looked back at Tombstone as Soap continued writing down his statement. He stormed toward the pair as Terri hurried after him. “King! Just calm down!” “You lying, son of a bitch!” King yelled at Tombstone. “You let those people in! They weren’t some kids doing a smash and grab! They had powers!” Tombstone stared unimpressed at King before turning back to Soap. “Is it the habit of your department to employ men like this, detective? He’s lucky I don’t press charges for trespassing and assaulting my employees.” “Oh, I assure you, Mr. Lincoln,” Soap simpered. “Mr. King is in no way associated with the Los Angeles Police Department.” “Yeah, he’s right!” snapped King. “I actually do my job!” “King!” Soap stood to attention slightly as a woman in green wearing a beret ducked under the crime scene tape and toward the commotion. “Captain DeWolff! We have just finished securing the scene and are now taking statements from the witnesses. Mr. King is being extremely difficult and…” “I understand, Soap. Continue with the interviews. You too, Lee. King, let’s take a walk.” Terri gave a worried look to King before entering the funeral home. Captain DeWolff held the tape to let King duck out. “How many times do I have to tell you to back off, Hannibal?” she asked as they walked back towards King’s car. “I don’t know. How about when you people get off your butts and get scum like Tombstone off the street?” “We are doing our jobs, Hannibal. We don’t have a strong enough case against Lincoln, and you know that. I want him gone as much as you do, but we can’t afford to be sloppy. The Feds are keeping tabs on him, and when they have something…” King laughed sarcastically. “Yeah. Swell. So we just sit back and let this monster have his way with our city and pray that the Feds bust him for tax evasion. He’s got people everywhere, Jean. In the LAPD, the Feds! That’s why you got pushed to fire me, because I was getting too close!” “Because you were spiraling out of control, King!” DeWolff shouted. She sighed as they made it to his car. “Look. You’ve given your statement. We’ll need you to come in tomorrow for some more questions. Can you do that without getting into trouble?” King gave a mock salute. “Yes, sir, ma’am captain! Ready to serve and protect!” He got into the car as DeWolff glared at him. “Cut the comedy and just be there, King.” King gave a final salute and drove off. King regretted not telling anyone about the pictures he had taken of the attackers. But he wanted to do some checking of his own. As for now, it was his word against ‘Mr. Lincoln’s’. A fired police detective with an axe to grind against a man who by all accounts was a respected citizen. Those Avengers may be all the rage in New York, but that doesn’t mean his story would fly in LA. King noticed that things seemed to darker outside. He glimpsed at the car’s clock, but it wasn’t even 6PM yet. He looked out the window, and despite the fact that there was not a cloud in the sky, there seemed to be a foreboding darkness ahead of the car. Even the street lights that lined the deserted street started to fade a disappear, until the entire car was surrounded in darkness. Suddenly King heard the sound of something landing on the hood of the car. He slammed on the brakes, but now the darkness appeared to be in the car itself. He barely had time to shout out in alarm before the door flew open, and a fist emerged from the darkness to render Hannibal King unconscious for the second time that evening. When the darkness cleared, Hannibal King found himself laid out on a roof. He rose to a seated position leaning against a billboard. Standing in front of him, was a figure in a black robe and hood. He had a mask that completely obscured his face, and beneath his robe appeared to be nothing except darkness, that seemed to be billowing out and gathering as mist around him. “Good evening, Detective King,” the man said. “We have much to discuss.” Next Time: He’s the Hairy Handed Gent!

Episode title from: Headin' Down The Wrong Highway - YouTube

Episode 3: Headin’ Down the Wrong Highway August 1st, 1947. Somewhere over the Midwest United States. Daniel Sousa looked out the window of Howard Stark’s private plane. The sunlight reflected off the wings and scattered across the clouds below them. “Would you like something, sir?” Daniel turned to see the attractive redhead in a white stewardess uniform smiling down at him. She gestured to the beverage cart in front of her. “Um… no. Thanks.” She shrugged and continued on as Howard Stark, in a airline pilot’s outfit and sunglasses, opened the cabin door that led to the cockpit. He squeezed past the cart and gave a wink to the stewardess as she made her way behind the curtain. “It’s the only way to travel, eh, Agent Sousa?” Howard said, sitting down next to Daniel. “I appreciate you letting me use your plane, Howard, but you really didn’t need to come along.” Howard adjusted his seat to recline back. “Don’t be ridiculous. You said so yourself. Somebody seems really keen to get their hands on Peg’s file. And they don’t care about shooting people to do it. After all she’s done for me, I owe her one. Probably more than one.” Howard then took off the sunglasses and shot Daniel a grin. “Besides, if I help the SSR catch a guy who shot one of their agents, it might give me another feather in my cap with the higher ups.” Daniel rolled his eyes. “I should have known. You’re all heart, aren’t you?” “I’m serious! If I play my cards right, I might wind up running the SSR in a year. Maybe two!” “God helps us all,” Daniel muttered under his breath. But Howard was already getting out of his seat. “Relax, Daniel. I’ve already spoke to my contacts in London about this Driscoll. He’s a boozehound, but he’s a creature of habit. We’ll find him, and then you can ask him all you want to know about Peg’s file. For now, close your eyes and enjoy the flight. I’m going to uh… check the galley. Important to make sure we have enough food.” Daniel gave him a knowing look. “And enough drinks?” Howard’s grin widened. “You’re getting the idea, Agent.” Howard donned his glasses and ducked behind the curtain. Daniel sighed and closed his eyes, trying to ignore the noises from the galley. New York City, New York. Midtown South precinct. “I must say I am shocked, Miss Carter,” said Acting Chief Flynn in a lecturing tone. “I read in your file that you had a tendency to knock over hornet’s nests. But this?! Not even 24 hours back in New York, and you wind up in the middle of a shoot out!” Peggy sat at the table in the interrogation room, watching Flynn pace back and forth in front of her. Her patience had just about reached it’s limit. “Chief Flynn….” “Acting Chief Flynn!” “Sir! I assure you I was not trying to find trouble. I was going to that theater to support a friend of mine. Have the police found Angie yet?” Flynn folded his arms in front of him. “I am sure the NYPD is doing a thorough job looking for Miss Martinelli. They may be a little more preoccupied in the search for this Adams woman.” Peggy got up from the table, walking gingerly after her fight with Miss Masque. “Sir, the SSR needs to assist in this investigation! Miss Adams is not in her right frame of mind, and appears to possess intensive combat training.” “Miss Carter, the NYPD are dealing with the Adams investigation. I’m sure they can handle some woman who obviously suffered some sort of nervous breakdown.” “A nervous breakdown? Miss Adams went from being a one woman army to a scared child. Somethings not right here, Chief, and I’m thinking it might have something to do with these Maggia attacks.’ Flynn scoffed. “Still trying to insert yourself into that investigation, Miss Carter? The reports clearly state that the individual behind these assaults is a man in red and blue costume wielding a boomerang. This is a case of a highly strung actress who snapped, nothing more, nothing less.” Peggy was about to protest, when the door to the interrogation room opened and a police officer stuck his head in. “Miss Carter? We called the Stark house and Miss Martinelli is there, but she says she needs to speak to you.” Peggy breezed past Flynn and out the door. “Don’t think I’m not done with you, Carter!” he yelled. “You get yourself to Stark’s mansion and stay there until you are called upon! Is that clear?” “Oh sod off,” Peggy muttered under her breath. She reached the desk and was handed the phone by the officer on duty. “Angie? It’s Peggy. Where have you been? Mr. Jarvis and I looked for you after the police got to the theater and couldn’t find you!” “Sorry, English,” Angie’s voice replied. “Something came up.” Peggy could hear the nervous tone in Angie’s voice. “Angie, what’s wrong? Is someone with you?” “I don’t have time. You need to come to the mansion, as quick as you can. No cops. Nobody from the telephone company. You understand?” Peggy looked around the precinct, trying to gather herself. “Angie? I need you to stay calm. I’m on my way with Mr. Jarvis. We’re coming to get you.” “Thanks, Peg. Don’t keep me waiting, will ya?” Angie placed the telephone on the receiver. She was sitting in her room in the Stark mansion, and in front of her was Diana Adams. She was still in her Miss Masque attire minus the mask, and her revolver was aimed at Angie. “Well, I did what you asked, Diana,” Angie tried to say calmly. “Could you put the gun down, and maybe we could talk about this?” “We have nothing to talk about it!” shouted Angie. “I need to talk to Carter!” “Why? Why her? She’s just a girl who works for the telephone company!” Diana gave a humorless laugh. “Oh please. It’s obvious. The way she fights, the way she tries to deescalate conflicts. All the marks of an operative. I need her.” Angie looked at the door behind Diana. “And how would you know about that stuff? Listening to the Shadow or something?” Diana’s face grew pale. Her expression became scared and confused. “I don’t know. I honestly don’t know. I don’t know how I was able to fight her like I did. Or how I was able to fight off Nefaria’s guards.” Her expression suddenly became more confident and she re-aimed her revolver at Angie. “I also don’t know how I know the most efficient ways to kill someone, but I know them. And I will not be afraid to use them if Carter doesn’t give me what I want.” Angie’s breath quickened and she bit her lip. “And just what do you want?” she sobbed. Diana’s face softened once again. “I want to know.” London, England. The Lady Coleen pub. Nick Driscoll sat at the bar, finishing up his pint. He slammed down his glass, and wiped some of the beer from his mouth. “Barkeep! Another round, if you please!” “And I’ll pay for it!” Driscoll looked in surprise as Howard Stark sat on the stool next to his. “Listen, mate, I don’t need help buying drinks.” Howard gave a friendly smile. “Oh it’s no trouble at all. In fact, I know a great place where you can enjoy that beer. Make your way to the private room on the other end of the bar.” Driscoll snorted and picked up his drink. “Push off, yank. I’m drinking this here.” Driscoll suddenly felt the pressure of an object into his ribs. Howard continued smiling and his tone stayed cheerful as he spoke. “I know you are in government intelligence. So I know you know who I am. And you know what I can make. The item that’s being jabbed into your ribs is a little gadget I’ve been working on. A flick of a switch, and I send an electrical current into your body. The mildest setting might just shock you, but the stronger setting will send you into cardiac arrest. So you can either drop right here and everyone will think you’re having a seizure, or you can get yourself to the back room slowly, and you’ll get to finish your drink.” Driscoll gulped, then rose from his stool and made his way to the back room with Howard behind him. In the private room, Daniel sat at a booth. “Did he give you any trouble?” Howard shook his head, pulling the spoon out from Driscoll’s back. “Oh none at all. Thanks to my latest invention. I think I’ll call it… the spoon.” Driscoll looked in disbelief at Daniel. “What is this? I know he’s Howard Stark, but who the bloody hell are you?” “I’m a friend of Jack Thompson,” said Daniel, his eyes not wavering from Driscoll. “I want to know where you got the file you gave him.” Driscoll looked behind him and gave a nervous laugh. “File? What file? Look, you say you’re a friend of Jack’s? So am I. It was just a mistake, alright?” “A mistake that nearly got Jack killed,” Daniel said rising from the booth. Driscoll fell back into a chair in shock. “Killed? My God. You mean, someone tried to kill Jack?” “And then ran off with the file you gave him. The file on Peggy Carter!” Driscoll held up his hands in front of him pleading. “Look, mate, let me explain! I didn’t mean to give him the wrong file! I didn’t!” Howard and Daniel shared a look, then Daniel turned back to Driscoll. “What do you mean the wrong file?” Driscoll loosened his tie and set his pint on the table. “Jack asked me to do him a favor. He wanted information on Margaret Carter. I searched through the SOE files and found a redacted file under M. Carter and I figured it was hers!” “You handed Jack a file without even knowing it was the right one?” barked Daniel. “It was a redacted file!” Driscoll argued. “I didn’t think he was going to make heads or tails of it anyway! But then I did some more digging, in case he wanted more dirt on Carter. But then I found it! That file wasn’t for Margaret Carter! It was…” Driscoll’s pleas were cut short as a bullet from a silenced pistol pierced his skull. “Howard! Get down!” Daniel and Howard hit the floor as another round of bullets flew in from the bar. Daniel flipped the table over to give them cover and peeked over it. There were 6 men in trench coats at the bar, and all of them were armed. The rest of the patrons were gone, and the bartended was slumped across the counter, dead. Daniel drew his pistol and returned fire. “I hope you have something more threatening than that spoon, Stark!” Daniel shouted. Howard reached into his suit pocket and pulled out a handheld metallic device with prongs on the end. “I certainly do. I have my electric zapper, and I also have a couple of jitterbug grenades. Sonic blasts, non lethal. Haven’t been tested yet, though.” Daniel looked again at the assailants drawing closer. “Now’s as good a time as any.” OK: Daniel Sousa (Pistol and SSR training) and Howard Stark (Gadgets) vs 6 gunmen. Can Daniel and Howard escape this predicament? Stay tuned to find out! Game On!

AND NOW THE CONCLUSION Peggy dodged the lady in red’s first punch but was hit with another blow to the ribs. The lady in red through blow after blow as Peggy struggled to block them. She jumped over a row of chairs to gain space between them, but the lady in red followed. Peggy trapped her arm and hip tossed her back first into the stage wall. The lady in red groaned as she fought to her feet. “I don’t wish to hurt you, Miss Adams,” Peggy said. “Stand down.” “I am not Miss Adams!” the lady in red snapped. “I am Miss Masque! And you will not get in my way!” She reached into a thigh holster and pulled out another revolver. Peggy ducked as she Miss Masque emptied the chambers into where she had been standing. Peggy looked up just in time for handle grip of the revolver to smash into her face. Miss Masque swung the gun again and connected to back of Peggy’s neck. She fell to the ground seeing stars. Miss Masque picked up one the revolver’s she had dropped earlier and aimed it at Peggy, who looked groggily up at her. “You should not have interfered,” she hissed, and she pulled the trigger. Peggy heard the sound of the gunshot. She braced herself for an impact. But none came. She looked up at Miss Masque, who was looking completely confused. For a moment, Peggy could of sworn that she heard the bullet ricocheting off of… something? Peggy was the first to snap out of it. She delivered a kick to the legs of Miss Masque that sent her sprawling. She kipped up to her feet, and delivered another kick to the chest, followed by a right hand to her face. Miss Masque fell backwards, and Peggy tried to reach for her, only succeeding in tearing off half of the domino mask she wore. Diana Adams gasped for breath, holding her head. “What…what’s going on? What’s happening?” She looked up at Peggy, then with widening eyes at the revolver still in her hand. “My God. What did I do? What did I do?!” The doors of the theater swung open and two police officers entered with guns drawn. “Alright nobody move!” one of them yelled. But Diana wasn’t listening. She jumped to her feet and onto the stage, heading for the wings. “Miss Adams! Miss Adams, wait!” Peggy shouted. But Diana was already running out the stage door. The officers ran down the aisle after her, followed by Count Nefaria. “A tragic end to an illustrious career. But you did quite admirably, Miss Carter. What exactly do you do for a living?” Peggy gingerly turned to face the count. “The telephone company.” “Indeed? Well, I can only hope that police find that poor woman before she injures herself. Or someone else.” Peggy just looked at the stage where Diana had ran. All she could think about was the look on her face. She had gone from a confident assassin, to a confused, scared woman in a matter of moments. It was the look of a person who was not in her right mind, who was in fear of losing it. Los Angeles, California. Waverly Memorial Hospital Jack Thompson sat in his hospital bed reading a magazine when he heard a knock on his door. “It’s open,” he said. The door creaked open and Daniel Sousa entered. Jack glared at him over the magazine. “Oh. It’s you.” Daniel made his way to the bed. “Jack, I know your angry…” “Angry?! You’re damn right I’m angry!” Jack barked at him. “I figure angry is a pretty good response after your fellow agent tries to kill you!” His eyes narrowed on Daniel. “And since you aren’t in custody right now, I’ll bet you didn’t tell the SSR about what I said when I woke up from surgery. Did you?” Daniel took a deep breath, as Jack turned his gaze to the ceiling. “Jack, I’m sorry but I don’t know what you’re talking about. I swear to you I had nothing to do with what happened to you.” Jack scoffed. “Sure you didn’t.” “It’s the truth, Jack. Talk to me. Tell me what happened to you. What do you remember?” Jack closed his eyes and leaned back on his pillow as replied. “I remember everything, Sousa. I was on the phone, talking to Rose. She was letting me know that Carter had requested more time off to stay here. There was a knock at the door. I thought it was housekeeping. I opened the door, and I saw you. Holding a gun with a silencer. You didn’t say anything. You just shot me. Then everything went black.” He opened his eyes to glare at Daniel. “Now you tell me. This wasn’t some illusion, some hypnosis. It was real! I saw you. You tried to kill me. You tell me why.” Daniel stood stunned for a moment. “Jack, I don’t know who did this, but it couldn’t have been me. When Rose was making that call, I was… well… I was with Peggy.” “Oh sure,” Jack laughed ruefully as he looked back up at the ceiling. “She was teaching you how to dance the lindy with that bum leg of yours.” “Oh for God’s sake, Jack, will you shut up and listen for once?!” Daniel shouted. He collected his thoughts then continued. “I’m telling you the truth. I was with Peggy.” Realization dawned on Jack’s face as he looked back at Daniel. “Seriously? You and Peggy?” Daniel sighed and nodded. Jack leaned back on his pillow and gave a short laugh. “Well, I’ll be damned. Good for you, Sousa. About time, probably. Seeing how you were smitten on her from the moment she walked into the SSR.” “Jack, focus. Please. The SSR have been over your hotel room with a fine toothed comb. No trace of that file you were talking about or any evidence pointing toward me, or whoever was impersonating me.” Jack nodded. “Well it was a damn good impersonation. Going to a lot of trouble to get that file.” “Where did you even get that file anyway?” “Driscoll found it for me. Nick Driscoll. He lives in London. I knew him at Cornell. He has some connections with MI and SOE. I asked him to dig for dirt on Carter and that’s what he found.” Daniel started heading for the door. “Then my next step is to find Driscoll. If someone is willing to kill for that file, maybe he can give me more information about where exactly he found it.” Jack straightened up in bed. “What about the SSR? They’re gonna ask questions if you ask them to send you to London.” Daniel gave a determined look to Jack. “Only if I ask them.” Jack smirked. “Look at you, not playing by the book.” “You just take it easy. We’re going to catch who did this. I swear it.” Daniel turned to open the door. “Hey, Sousa!” Daniel looked back. “Just one thing. You and Peggy? How was it?” Daniel rolled his eyes and opened the door as Jack called after him. “I’m serious! I’m sure it was a big moment for you, it probably being your first time and all.” “Shut up and go to sleep, Chief Thompson,” said Daniel and closed the door. Jack put his pillow down and pulled the sheets over him. “Sousa and Carter. Huh. I’ll be damned.” Daniel made his way to a telephone in the lobby and dialed a number he didn’t think he ever wanted to call. The phone rang twice before a familiar voice answered. “Hello? Who is this?” “Hello, Mr. Stark,” Daniel sighed. “I hope I haven’t caught you at a bad time.” “Wait a minute. Is that you, Agent… umm… Conway? No no. Handy? Wagner?” “Sousa, Mr. Stark,” Daniel said, as the sound of a woman’s giggle came over the phone. “Is there someone there with you?” The sound of footsteps and muffled laughter continued as Howard Stark replied. “Just my secretary, Agent. I’m a firm believer in keeping a healthy workplace.” Daniel massaged his temples and sighed. “Howard, I need to speak alone with you. It’s important.” “So is this, Agent. I’m a consultant for the SSR now, but that doesn’t mean I have to be on the clock all the time.” “It’s about Peggy. I think she might be in danger.” There was silence on the other end of the line. Then more footsteps and a slamming door. “Alright, Agent. What’s going on?” Daniel took another deep breath, already regretting his decision. “Mr. Stark, I need to ask you a favor.” Los Angeles, California. Metropolitan State Hospital “NO! NO! GET AWAY FROM ME! JUST SHUT UP AND LEAVE ME ALONE!” Two orderlies struggled to hold the man down on his bed. A third stood at the door to the room, along with a short balding man in a bow tie. “Mr. Carter! Please! We’re here to help you!” The man yelled in rage and thrashed against the orderlies. Finally a nurse ran in with a syringe. The orderlies lifted up the man’s left sleeve and held it down so the nurse could inject the patient with it. “NO! MY COUNTRY NEEDS ME! MY COUNTRY NEEDS… Damn you! I don’t want to fight anymore! Stop talking to me! I don’t want to fight any…” Mr. Carter slowly relaxed and slipped into unconsciousness. “Any idea what started that outburst, doctor?” the orderly at the door asked the man in the bow tie. “Who’s to say?” the man answered in a slight accent. “I was just introducing myself, asking Mr. Carter if he remembered anything of his life before being brought here, then he just went berserk. A very unusual case to be sure.” The orderlies escorted everyone from the room, leaving behind the sleeping man, and a large white gift box wrapped in black, white, and blue ribbons. “We’d appreciate whatever assistance you can give, doctor,” the orderly went on. “The most severe case of shell shock I’ve ever seen. I just hope one day we can find a way to bring him back.” The man in the bow tie adjusted his ring as he smiled confidently. “I’m sure you will. He’s in good hands here. All he needs is time to rest, and… focus.” Stay Tuned for Episode 3: Headin’ Down the Wrong Highway!

Thanks! I figured you wouldn't mind a cameo appearance. lol

Battlesphere Battle Royal FINAL!! Currently in the Ring: Eliminated Chloe Bourgeois Katie Ka-Boom (Toon Monster form) Red Claw (Adult sized, fighting skill) Tinker Bell (Flight, Pixie dust) Wednesday Addams (weapons, fighting skill) Chel (cleverness) Miss America Mercy Graves (Fighting skills) Anamaria (Weapons, fighting skills Elsa (Ice powers) Ruby Rose (Semblance, Crescent Rose, fighting skill) Phantom Lady Chell (Aperture Science Portal Device) Elsa (Ice powers) Carmen Sandiego (Tech, fighting skill) Ladybug Chell (Aperture Science Portal Device) Baby Doll (Tech) Cassie Cage Trini Kwan (Yellow Ranger powers) *THE FOLLOWING BROADCAST IS BEING PRESENTED BY THE TRANSDIMENSIONAL COMBAT COMMISSION. ALL COMBATANTS MUST AGREE TO FOLLOW TCC GUIDELINES AT ALL TIMES. SAFETY OF ATENDEES IS NOT GUARANTEED.* Andel Sanap: Ladybug crashes back into the ring! Miss Cage charges in but Ladybug leaps back to her feet! She’s swinging her yoyo but Miss Cage knocks it aside! Al Rossi: Nails with her pistols and she leaps up! She’s got the green energy going! Right on target and Ladybug is sent sailing over and out! Andel Sanap: Miss Cage lands by the ropes and Look out! Miss Bourgeois from behind! Clotheslining her over the top! Al Rossi: But she hung on! She’s pulling herself back up to the apron! But Chloe doesn’t see her! She’s looking the other way playing to the crowd, celebrating her ‘6th’ elimination! But the lights are flickering around Cassie! Her outfit is being covered in Ladybug spots! And she’s got the yoyo! Andel Sanap: Miss Bourgeois needs to turn around! Miss Cage throws the yoyo, and wraps it around Miss Bourgeois upraised hands! A mighty heave from Miss Cage! Al Rossi: Chloe’s flailing! She’s out of control! She’s hit the Battlesphere wall! She’s out! Andel Sanap: Exactly at the one hour mark, Miss Bourgeois has been eliminated, having participated in eliminating five combatants, the most of any in this match! Err, could security please check at the north guardrail? Someone in a Venom t-shirt has apparently jumped onto the battle terrain in protest. Al Rossi: This crowd has been loving this action, Andel! And it’s heating up, or should I say cooling down, with Miss America and Phantom Lady. The two Golden Age heroines appear to be mastering Elsa’s powers and are trying to get off a final, freezing attack. Phantom Lady launches a portal and slips through to avoid the ice blast. Andel Sanap: But look! Miss America has already Petal Burst-ed to the exit portal to catch Phantom Lady coming out! A right hand from Miss America sends Phantom Lady back through the portal she came from! Another Petal Burst carries Phantom Lady out of the ring, over the ropes, and before she can recover, right into the Battlesphere wall! Al Rossi: And just like that, Andel, we are down to the final two! 30 combatants entered the Battlesphere, now only two remain! Andel Sanap: From Earthrealm, Cassie Cage! With her eliminations, she has the combined fighting skills, strength, and weapons of Trini Kwan, Chloe Bourgeois, and Ladybug! Her Yellow Ranger armor is covered in black Ladybug spots, and she’s duel wielding the Miraculous yoyo and top! Al Rossi: And from WWII, Miss America! Thanks to her eliminations, she now possesses the fighting prowess and powers of Mercy Graves, Anamaria, Ruby, and Phantom Lady, on top of Elsa’s magic! She still has her cape over Elsa’s robes, which also conceal Crescent Rose and the black light projector! Andel Sanap: Miss Cage activates Lucky Charm! Miss America flies ahead! The final fight has begun! OK: The Final Match to determine the winner of the Battlesphere Battle Royal! Cassie Cage (Trini’s skill and Yellow Ranger power, Ladybug’s Miraculous abilities, yoyo, and Lucky Charm, and Chloe’s Miraculous abilities, top, and Venom paralyzing power) (Full strength) vs Miss America (The fighting skills and weapons of Mercy, Anamaria, and Ruby, Elsa’s ice magic, and Phantom Lady’s black light projector) (Full strength) Whoever wins gets to choose one of the powers they’ve acquired to use in any future TCC matches they take part in. It all comes down to this. Game On!

Title from- Eagles - Hotel California (Lyrics) - YouTube

Chapter 2: Such a Lovely Place Private detective Hannibal King sat at the wheel of his darkened car, his focus locked on the building across the street and a block over. It was an ornate building with pillars on either side of the door. In the well kept yard was a sign with the building’s name: The Lincoln Funeral Home. King took a bite out of his In-N-Out burger, wiping off some mustard that dripped on his trench coat. He knew the illustrious Mr. Lincoln probably was responsible for a fair share of the bodies that were tended to in his establishment. He was the cold, calculating gang leader whose ruthlessness had earned a name whispered by every criminal in Los Angeles: Tombstone. King picked up a pair of binoculars and looked through them at the funeral home. It didn’t matter what the LAPD thought. Everyone knew that Lincoln was dirty. Someone just needed to do the work and catch him in the act. And if the LAPD was too busy covering their backsides, then King would just have to do it himself. King’s thoughts were interrupted by a van driving past him and turning to park in front of the funeral home. He focused the binoculars on the van to see two men and a woman get out, leaving the shadowy figure of the driver behind. Two of Mr. Lincoln’s men walked out of the funeral home to meet them, and checked them for weapons. “Alright then,” King breathed. “Now things are getting interesting.” Moth stood with her hands above her head and gave a cheeky grin to the man who was frisking her. “Has anyone told you you have very strong hands?” The man just glared at her and turned to his partner. “She’s clean. What about the other two, Juan?” Juan gave another look at the tall, black haired man in a suit, and the stocky, brown haired man in a black wifebeater. “No guns, Robbie. But the guy did have this.” Juan held the bundle of rope he had taken from the stocky man’s shoulder. “That’s mine,” the stocky man growled. Juan smirked at him, and held the rope out to him. “Not if you want to get in there, it isn’t.” “Please, gentlemen,” the tall man said nervously. “I’m sure we can find a compromise here.” Moth put her coat back on as she interrupted. “There’s no need to compromise anything, Percy. If you want the rope, you hold on to it.” She gave a look to the stocky man, who’s look was becoming more agitated. “You can have it when we’re done. Alright, Jason?” Jason looked away and grumbled his consent. Moth turned back to Juan and Robbie. “See? Settled. Now let’s get going. We wouldn’t want to keep your boss waiting.” As the three guests were escorted into the funeral home, behind the building a man in black snuck over a fence. He quickly moved through the shadows until he got to a window leading to the basement of the building. He opened the window and slid into the funeral home. On the main floor, Moth, Percy and Jason walked past viewing areas until they reached a door marked ‘private’. Juan opened the door for them and they entered the lavishly furnished office. “Take a seat,” Juan said. “The boss will be here in a sec.” Moth and Percy sat down, but Jason stayed standing. Moth looked up intently at Robbie. “What are you looking at, lady?” he said. “Oh, nothing. Just admiring your threads. The jacket, the shirt. It looks very nice. Don’t you think, Percy?” Percy looked away from a clock on the wall. “Hmm? Oh. Oh, yes! Very…um… functional.” The door to the office opened again, and the man known as Tombstone entered. He was dressed professionally in a black suit and tie. His skin was white with albinism, and his teeth looked liked they belonged in the mouth of a shark. Behind him was a muscular man with blond hair in a denim jacket and jeans. He gave an imposing stare toward Jason, who didn’t blink as he returned it. “Sorry about my lateness,” Tombstone said. “We had just finished a service that ran long.” “Not anyone I know, I hope,” Moth smiled. Tombstone sat down at his desk, and took in the sight of his visitors. “I was wanting to see exactly what it is you people were offering. Your initial message was rather… vague.” Moth leaned back in her chair and extended her arms. “We wouldn’t want that, Mr. Lincoln. We understand that you are busy man with a lot on your mind, not all of it legal. And we represent someone who wants to assist you in your daily operations. For a price, of course.” Tombstone stared at Moth, then started laughing. Juan and Robbie joined in as Moth tightened her fist beneath the desk while she maintained her pleasant expression. “Did I say something funny?” “Oh, not at all, miss,” Tombstone chuckled. “I’ve just never had anybody try to shake me down before.” “I assure you, Mr. Lincoln, we are not wanting to take advantage of you. We are prepared to make it worth your while, giving you the protection you need from the authorities and other organizations.” “He already has protection,” the man in denim hissed. “Oh really?” said Jason mockingly. “Does he have you call someone for help?” Tombstone held up a hand. “Easy, Bush. Just how do you people plan on protecting me?” Moth glanced at the clock and then at Percy before answering. “It is a guarantee from our leader: the Shroud.” A hush fell over the office. Moth looked at each of the men in front of her. “Surely you have seen the news? Certain gang members going missing, some turning up dead. Others talking about a living shadow laying waste to 10 men at once? Consider that power at your disposal. Or, maybe, that power turned against you.” Tombstone glanced at his men’s disturbed faces then back to Moth. “Let me get this straight. You work for the guy that’s been taking out my competitors. Now he wants me to sign up with him, and he doesn’t even have the guts to show his face?” Moth smiled and shrugged. “I’ve seen his face. Trust me, you’re not missing much.” Tombstone chuckled and nodded in approval. “Heh. You’re cute. You just bought yourselves 2 more minutes. Talk fast.” Moth gave another look to the clock then went on. “The Shroud will allow you to continue to operate in the city, however there will be some changes made to make certain things run smoothly. Percy?” Percy pulled out a pair of glasses from his pocket and a note pad. He put the glasses on turned to first page. “Er, now, then. If you were to accept our offer, the Shroud or one of his associates…, um that’s us by the way, would be in charge of responding to any threats to your operations, criminal or law enforcement related. The Shroud or his associate will either broker a peace, or will… um…neutralize the problem by the most efficient means possible.” Percy looked up from his notes at the dumbstruck crime boss and his men. “The gist of this is that there will be no more drive bys or retaliation killings of any kind that endanger civilians not in the game. Any action taken without the Shroud’s authority will be punished. Severely. ” In the basement, the man in black fumbled with a flashlight. He shone the light around the room, letting it rest on a large safe. “Lazy,” he muttered beneath his ski mask. “Didn’t even bother to put it behind a picture.” He knelt down next to the safe, and put his ear to the door to listen to the tumblers as he turned the dial. “As for guns,” Percy went on in the office upstairs. “The Shroud is unfortunately kind of particular about that subject. You would be out of the weapons and gun smuggling business, not to kids, and especially not to people planning attacks on civilians. The Shroud is a little more lenient regarding drugs. As long as it’s not to kids, and it’s not enough for them to distribute on their own, it’s fair game for you.” Tombstone stared unblinking as Bushwacker grit his teeth. The man in black finally opened the safe, revealing the stacks of money inside. With a wave of his hand, a white bag with dollar signs on it appeared in his grip seemingly out of nowhere. He started emptying the safe of it’s contents and putting them into the bag. “Hey!” The man in black’s heart stopped, then he turned to see a man wearing a gold chain standing at the stairs leading to the basement. “What the hell are you doing here?!” “And finally, there’s prostitution,” Percy said. Robbie and Juan sat up slightly, having let their eyes close as Percy had rambled. “Now, we aren’t going to get in the way of people’s entrepreneurial spirit. If that’s how a woman, or man for that matter, wants to make their living, so be it. But it will be their choice. No sex slaves, no grooming kids, and no drugging people up to make them perform. And no freebies for your people. They pay the same as everyone else.” “Let’s just cut to the chase,” interrupted Tombstone. Percy gulped as Tombstone’s eyes stared at him. “How much is the Shroud expecting me to pay for all of this?” Percy fumbled with his notepad before finding the answer. “For his protection and assistance, the Shroud will require 33% of your gross earnings at the end of the year. That will still leave you with 67% to use for upkeep and payroll.” “Are you done?” Bushwacker said. Percy gave a last look at his notes. “Umm, yep. Yes, that’s all.” Bushwacker clenched his fist. “Good.” With a swift gesture he pumped his fist, and Bushwacker’s arm started to melt and reform itself. Where his hand was, there was now the barrel of a shotgun. Juan and Robbie pulled out their pistols as well, and aimed that Percy, Moth and Jason. Meanwhile, in the basement, the man in the gold chain approached the man in black with his gun drawn. “Put down that bag, genius. Are you some kind of nut to break in here? Do you even know who you’re stealing from, man?” The man in black swung the bag so it collided with his assailant’s face. He tried to run but the man in the gold chain tackled him by his ankles to the floor. “Oh, you’re going to get it now!” he said as he scrambled to get on top of the thief. The thief didn’t reply or fight back. He just waved his hand in front of his face and whispered under his breath, “Once Upon a Time.” The man in the gold chain didn’t even notice that the thief’s clothes had changed from black to a red and blue harlequin outfit. He grabbed the thief by the shoulder and turned him to see his face, only to see the face of a skeleton. “What the Hell?!” he screamed. “Close enough,” the Brother Grimm said, as sparkling light flew from his finger tips and blinded his attacker. “Please let me waste them, Mr. Tombstone,” Bushwacker said. “Let me start with this geek and finish with this snarky little…” Tombstone stood up from the desk. “Enough, Bush. Lady, and gentlemen. I’ve listened to your proposal. And I believe we have nothing left to discuss.” Moth looked up coyly. “But what do you want me to tell the Shroud?” Tombstone gave a humorless smile. “The Shroud sent you to deliver a message, so it’s only fair I do the same. Bush? You and the boys take these jokers downstairs. I’m sure they’d appreciate a first hand look at how the cremation process works.” Suddenly the door to the office burst open as the Brother Grimm sent his opponent slamming into the desk. “Barton!” Percy shouted. “Now?” said Jason. “Yes, now!” Moth shouted as she ducked beneath the desk. Jason held out his hand and his rope, still hanging around Juan, came undone and started dragging Juan toward him. A fierce right hand knocked down Juan and the rope left off of him into Jason’s hands. “Once Upon a Time,” Percy said and waved his hand in front of his face. He was instantly transformed into the same outfit and Barton. Robbie opened fire, and Percy pulled out a handkerchief from his sleeve. Miraculously the handkerchief wrapped around the bullet, stopping it in midair. Before Robbie could get off a another shot, he cried out in alarm. His jacket and shirt were starting to come undone, long fibers unfurling outward from him. Moth grinned dangerously at him. “Told you I liked that outfit. Let’s see if it looks better if we take it in a little.” The fibers constricted around Robbie’s neck and chest as he fell to floor. Bushwacker opened fire with the gun in his arm and sent Percy sprawling to Barton. “You weren’t supposed to draw attention to yourself, brother,” Percy said. “You’re welcome, Percy,” Barton hissed. “Now let’s get the hell out of here!” Moth stood up and caused the fibers in her coat to reform themselves into a pair of wings. She swung them towards Tombstone only to have them be shot at by Bushwacker. “Reloading that must be a bitch,” Moth said as her fibers flipped the desk over. Tombstone shattered the desk with a single blow of his fist. “Kill these freaks! All of them!” The sound of gunfire carried through the air to Hannibal King’s car. He grabbed the police radio and tuned in to the scanner. “Dispatch! Emergency! Emergency! Shot’s fired! Shot’s fired! Lincoln’s Funeral Home! Send back up immediately!” A confused voice answered back. “Is that you, King? What are you doing on this frequency? You aren’t supposed to have a set up! You were fired, remember?” “Hey, charge me later!” King said, watching as three men ran out of the funeral home to the car parked on the curb. “There was some kind of meet going on at Lincoln’s! They might be in trou…ble.” King stopped short as he watched the door of the car break off, and a large, misshapen man climbed out. The three gang members pulled out their guns, but the thing just roared and knocked out all three with a swinging forearm. King looked in disbelief, then turned back to the radio. “Dispatch! Send all the men you’ve got! We’re going to need it!” OK: The Night Shift: Moth (Mentally can control fibers, either in clothes or hair. Can form fibers into wings that she can use to fly.) The Brothers Grimm (Can magically produce small, novelty objects with magical powers.) Hangman (Strength and mental control of indestructible rope.) Misfit (Strength and durability.) Tombstone (Strength and durability), Bushwacker (Strength, durability, and can transform his arm into a gun), plus 10 gang members. If the Night Shift can defeat Tombstone and his men, and escape with their loot before the cops arrive, they win. Game On!

AND NOW THE CONCLUSION Digger hurried down the hallways of the abandoned hotel, dragging Tick Tock behind him. “Turn left! Turn left!” Tick Tock shouted as they approached the corner. “Why? Are there bad guys if I turn right?” asked Digger. “Yes! Lots of bad guys if you turn right!” Digger grinned. “Good.” He dragged Tick Tock to the door marked ‘Custodial Closet’ and flung it open, tossing Tick Tock inside. “Digger! What are you doing? We have to get out of here!” “No. I had to get you to safety. You’ll be safe in here. I’m not going to run away from the chance to beat up on these dead heads!” Tick Tock lifted up his hands pleading. Please! Don’t leave me in here! Maybe I can help you?” Digger rolled his eyes. “Right. You can tell me the future. I already know. Some rejects from SWAT are about to get swatted. Find some toilet paper, have some fun. See you in a few, Twitter.” “Tick Tock! My name is Tick…” Tick Tock’s complaining voice was muffled by the slamming door. Digger held his shovel at the ready and swung it around the corner, clotheslining the unfortunate mercenary who turned the corner first. The second mercenary swung a nightstick, but it bounced off of Digger and left him open for a headbutt that dropped him to the floor. The final mercenary fumbled with his automatic weapon before spraying Digger with bullets. Digger looked down at the bullet holes in his vest, then back to the terrified gunmen. “Oh! Right! That was supposed to hurt. Don’t worry, let me try it again.” Digger started walking backwards, clutching his body and shouting out in a stilted, over-dramatic style. “Uh, ow! Oh my God! The bullets! I can feel them going through my spleen! Ah no! The pain, the pain! Bleeeeagh!” The mercenary stood in confusion as Digger collapsed against a wall, then jumped up again. “Yeah, I know. Everyone handles pain differently. Let’s see how you deal with it.” One mighty swing of the shovel, and Digger had smashed his adversary’s skull. Needle and Tatterdemalion took turns dispatching of mercenaries and attempting to corral the werewolf. Needle’s victims lay lifeless in the hallway with their body armor cut apart with a few slashes of his blade. Tatterdemalion’s victims moaned in pain from the burns his touch had inflicted. And still the werewolf battered and tore at the men who sought to capture it. Dansen delivered a series of strikes to an opponent before hearing the click of a gun’s hammer behind her. She turned to see a bloodied man standing a few feet away aiming his pistol at her head. “That’s enough of that, freak!” Dansen started to sway back and forth, gracefully spinning in a pirouette. The man sneered at the display. “What? Do you think I won’t shoot you if you dance for me?” “This dance isn’t for you,” Dansen said coldly. “It’s for the man behind you.” The mercenary had just enough time to turn to see one his compatriots aiming his rifle at him with a glazed look in his eyes. Then he opened fire and the bloodied man fell dead to the floor. Just as Dansen’s victim was coming out of her thrall, she delivered a kick to his head that dropped him as well. Needle swung his blade and caught the werewolf in the shoulder. It howled in pain as Tatterdemalion grabbed it from behind by the neck, letting his burning touch scorch it’s fur. “Do it now, Needle! Now! Dansen! Get over here!” Needle stepped forward, ducking from the slashing claws of the werewolf and glared with his paralyzing eye. Dansen joined him, performing another dance in an attempt to calm the beast. The werewolf snarled and thrashed in Tatterdemalion’s grip, but gradually it began to stop struggling. Slowly the werewolf fell to the floor, quietly growling. The three panted and tried to catch their breaths as Digger jogged in from the other side of the hallway. “Anymore creeps to crush up here? The one’s downstairs just went all to pieces.” Tatterdemalion lowered the scarf that covered his face. “Where the hell is Tick Tock? You were supposed to get him out of the building!” Digger shrugged. “I put him somewhere safe. I knew you guys needed my help fighting these clowns.” “More likely you didn’t want to miss a chance to kill some more people,” Dansen said dryly. “Aw, you know me too well.” Tatterdemalion recovered his face with his scarf and walked to the mercenary Dansen had fought, who was groaning and massaging his head. The man looked up in fear at Tatterdemalion, and tried to scramble away. “Who sent you? Who is it you are working for?” The man just stammered in fright. Tatterdemalion hoisted him to his feet and grabbed him by his collar. “I will only ask one more time. Then I let my friend show you just how many ways he can maim you with that shovel. Who are you working for?” The man held up his hands and started to nod. He opened his mouth to answer, but all that came out was a scream of agony. Tatterdemalion looked perplexed as his victim and all the other mercenaries who weren’t already dead cried out in pain. Their bodies twitched uncontrollably, and blood started drip from their noses. Then they all fell silent. Tatterdemalion looked at his prisoner, only to see the blank expression of a lifeless shell. Digger looked mildly surprised. “Whoa. Guess Needle has some competition in the ‘Accidentally Kill People’ Club.” “I didn’t do anything,” said Tatterdemalion as he set the dead man on the ground. He turned him over and lifted the hair on the back of his head to reveal a small square of circuitry. “Whoever these men work for doesn’t want them to talk to us. Or anyone else.” The sound of sirens started to drift through the windows. Dansen briskly started heading for the emergency exit door. “Time to leave. Tatter, Needle. Bring Mr. Russell, and be gentle. And, Digger. Kindly retrieve Tick Tock from wherever it is you’ve hidden him.” Digger gave a salute and headed back down the corridor. “Sure thing, Dansen. Might take a while. These janitor closets all look the same to me.” A mercenary stood in the middle of a circular room. In front of him three figures sat at a crescent shaped table, as well as Dr. Ruby Thursday, who stood with her arms crossed in front of her. “You were unable to capture Mr. Russell?” she asked in an irritated tone. “Yes, doctor,” the mercenary said. “You were unable to defeat the individuals who have captured Mr. Russell?” “Yes, doctor.” Ruby stepped closer to the mercenary so he could see his face in her sphere. “Operative 3099. Would you consider the events of this evening a failure?” Sweat glistened on the mercenary’s brow as he gulped and answered. “Yes, doctor.” A gravelly voice emerged from the largest of the figures as the table. “Are you familiar with Thomas Edison, Operative 3099?” The man nodded. “Yes, doctor. He invented the light bulb, didn’t he?” The large man rose from his chair and walked around the desk, the sound of bare feet pounding the floor. “Actually he made many attempts to invent the light bulb. And despite each attempt not resulting a successful prototype, you know what he said?” Operative 3099 shook his head. “Edison said that he had not failed at making a light bulb. He just found 99 ways to not make one. And finally he found the right way: stealing it from Nikola Tesla.” The mercenary’s blood ran cold as the man the voice belonged to stepped into the light. The head was that of a man with black hair in widow’s peak. The head was sitting on the shoulders of a gorilla’s body that stood over six and a half feet tall and weighed over 600 pounds. The mercenary looked away in fright as the man went on. “Do you understand the moral of the story, Operative 3099? Experiments may fail, but the true scientist never fails. The solution will be found. The goal will be reached. It’s just a matter of removing the unnecessary variables.” The gorilla-man turned to Ruby. “Dr. Thursday? Please remove the unnecessary variable.” Ruby bowed to her colleague. “Of course, Dr. Nagan.” Operative 3099 tried to run, only to have tendrils emerge from Ruby’s sphere that caught his arms and legs. “Please, Dr. Nagan! Dr. Thursday! I can get Russell for you! And those other freaks! Just give me more time! Please!” Ruby projected another tendril that started to wrap around Operative 3099’s throat. “There, there now, Operative 3099. The Headmen would like to thank you for you loyal service.” There was a final scream from Operative 3099, then the sound of his neck being snapped. Ruby let the body fall and her tendrils be absorbed back into her sphere. “These super powered beings he spoke of could cause us some difficulty, Dr. Nagan,” she said as she stepped over Operative 3099’s body to get back to her seat at the table. “Yes, Arthur,” another figure at the table whined. “We need to speed up our projects immediately!’ “Fear not, my colleagues,” Dr. Nagan said as he sat down. “There is no eventuality that we cannot predict. With the resources at our disposal, this city will soon fall to the mental might of the Headmen!” Next Time: Such A Lovely Place!

Stay Tuned!

Episode title from the song Pistol Packin' Mama. Bing Crosby And The Andrew Sisters, "Pistol Packin' Mama" - YouTube

Episode 2: Pistol Packin’ Mama August 1st, 1947. New York City, New York. New York Bell Company (SSR Office) Peggy Carter strode passed the rows of desks and whispering agents straight to door to the chief agent’s office. She opened it to see a man with slightly balding brown hair and glasses looking over a file. He looked surprised at Peggy before clearing his throat and shuffling the file under some paperwork on the desk. “Miss Carter! Um, I wasn’t expecting you coming in so soon.” He offered a handshake with a bland smile. “John Flynn, Acting Chief of East Coast SSR Operations.” Peggy shook his hand and took a seat in front of the desk. “A pleasure to meet you, Agent Flynn. I would like to get started as soon as…” “Acting Chief Flynn,” he interrupted. Peggy looked confused. “I’m sorry?” Flynn moved to sit at the desk as he explained. “The correct title is Acting Chief. It’s proper protocol. Due to Agent Thompson’s unfortunate… incident, I will be in charge here for the foreseeable future. But enough about that. I trust your flight from California was er… comfortable?” Fighting the urge to roll her eyes, Peggy pressed on. “It was a long flight…, Acting Chief. But it did give me time to go over the files regarding these Maggia attacks.” Flynn coughed nervously. “Really? You are familiar with the Maggia?” “Yes, sir. A collection of criminal families that joined together at the turn of the century. The most prominent of these families were the Manfredi’s, headed by Silvio ‘SIlvermane’ Manfredi. Have you picked up any new information regarding the attacker? The file has an eyewitness account of a man in some sort of costume using a boomerang as a primary weapon.” “You are certainly thorough, Miss Carter,” interrupted Flynn. “Agent,” replied Peggy. “That is my correct title.” Flynn folded his hands and leaned back in his chair. “Miss Carter. We have our best operatives coordinating with the FBI to learn the truth behind these killings. With so many men relegated to this, we will be needing all hands on deck here in the office. I understand you do have some experience in codebreaking?” Peggy couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Am I to understand that you had me fly all the way from California to do office work?” Flynn rose from his seat and put his hand on Peggy’s shoulder. “I assure you, Miss Carter, there is no job too small in the SSR. Your assistance here will be greatly appreciated. For now, I would encourage you to rest up after your long flight, and come in ready to go to work tomorrow. That will be all, Miss Carter.” Flynn went back to his seat and started reading the file he had hidden. Peggy got up and walked to the door. But she then turned around with a defiant look in her eyes. “Permission to speak freely, Agent Flynn?” Flynn sighed but didn’t look up from his file when he answered. “Acting Chief Flynn, please, Miss Carter. But granted.” “I know you are new to the New York office. But I can assure you that I could be of more assistance in the field than sitting here sifting through paperwork. And if you’ve read my file you would know that.” Flynn slammed the file on his desk and glared at Peggy. “I did read your file, miss. And it is not your place to decide who goes where in the SSR. I have my best men on this investigation, and you will go where I assign you to go. Is that clear?” Peggy’s grip tightened on the door knob as she turned it and walked out. “Perfectly clear…, Acting Chief.” Peggy walked out of the New York Bell Company building that served as the SSR’s cover. She made her way to the curb, where a black sedan waited for her. Standing alongside it was Edwin Jarvis, Howard Stark’s butler, and Peggy’s loyalist friend. “I trust by your speedy return that things did not go well, Miss Carter?” he asked as Peggy walked towards him. “No, they did not go well, Mr. Jarvis. The man they found to fill in for Jack is a patronizing idiot. All I’ve been through with the SSR and I’m back to being a glorified secretary!” “Well, it won’t be the first time you’ve dealt with boorish persons,” Jarvis mused. “Perhaps you can find a way to still be able to assist in this Maggia business.” Peggy leaned against the sedan and crossed her arms, gazing up at the New York Bell building. “Not if Acting Chief Flynn has anything to say about it.” Jarvis opened the door for Peggy and she sighed and climbed inside. Jarvis then walked around to get behind the wheel. “Where to now, Miss Carter?” Peggy let her head lean back into the soft leather of her seat and gave a wry smile. “Home, Mr. Jarvis. I’ve just had a long flight and I wouldn’t want to overexert myself.” New York City, New York. The mansion of Howard Stark. “English!” Angie Martinelli shouted in delight. Peggy’s roommate rushed down the staircase to give her a big hug. Peggy returned it as Jarvis brought in her luggage. “Angie, it’s so good to see you again.” Angie held Peggy’s hands a took a step back. “Let me take a look at you! Did you get a tan? Ugh, if you weren’t my friend I’d hate you! I’d give anything to go to California! Did you see any movie stars while you were there?” Peggy and Jarvis exchanged a look, then Jarvis went back to get more suitcases from the car. “Well, I really didn’t have the time to do much sightseeing.” Angie gave a knowing grin. “Hard at work with the telephone company, huh? Well, you must have been busy to not reply to my letters. I finally got it!” “Got what?” Peggy asked. “What do you mean ‘got what’? The part! I got the part in the show I was telling you about!” Peggy started walking with Angie out of the lobby to the lounge. “Oh, Angie! Congratulations! What part did you get?” Angie waved her hand dismissively. “Ah, it’s in the chorus. But it’s an actual professional production! They have Diana Adams in the lead for it!” The two friends sat down on the sofa as Jarvis finished carrying in the luggage. “Diana Adams? Well, that is impressive. I hear she is quite a talent.” “Yeah, and you probably heard it from her. Oh, don’t get me wrong, English, she’s good and all, but she’s kind of a stuck up. Goes on and on about doing a USO show with Captain America once.” The clock mantlepiece started to chime 3 o’clock, causing Angie to jump up from the couch. “Yikes! 3 already! I need to get going! Say! Why don’t you come along? We can get Jarvis to drive us and you can sit in on the rehearsal.” “Actually, Miss Martinelli,” interrupted Jarvis as he headed towards the kitchen. “Miss Carter has had a long flight and I was just about to start the preparations for dinner.” Angie quickly ran in front Jarvis and blocked his way. “No! I mean, um, you don’t have to eat here. There’s a great little bakery on the corner across from the theater. Their bagels are to die for. It’ll be my treat for you two.” Jarvis gave a suspicious look. “Miss Martinelli, is there a reason why you don’t want me to go into the kitchen?” Angie glanced from the kitchen door to Jarvis. “Oh, no reason. No reason at all, Mr. Jarvis.” “You wouldn’t happen to have been practicing your tap routines in the kitchen again?” Angie gave a nervous laugh as she walked Jarvis back to the couch. “Oh, come on, Mr. Jarvis. I wouldn’t dream of doing that. After you told me last time. Er… so, what do you say? Will you come?” Peggy chuckled and nodded. “Yes, Angie, we’ll come.” Angie gave a hug to Jarvis and sped towards the stairs. “Great! You’ll love it! I just need to grab my purse and my coat from upstairs, and if we’re lucky we’ll miss the worst of the traffic. Be down in jiffy!” Jarvis turned to face Peggy as Angie’s running footsteps echoed through the mansion. “I know you are friends with Miss Martinelli, Miss Carter, and she is a friendly enough woman. But there are times where she makes me long for Bernard.” Peggy gave a friendly shove to Jarvis’ shoulder. “Really, Mr. Jarvis. Angie is certainly much more pleasant to have around than Howard Stark’s temperamental flamingo.” “At least, Miss Carter, temperamental flamingos do not wear tap shoes that leave black scuff marks all over Mr. Stark’s tiled floors.” Peggy bit her lip to keep from laughing as Angie ran back the stairs to join them with her purse in her right hand and her coat draped over her left arm. “Alright, my two favorite Brits. To the theater!” Manhattan, New York City, New York. 46th Street Theater. Angie pushed open the doors and led Peggy and Jarvis into the expansive theater. They walked passed the rows of chairs and towards the stage where several young women were chatting, stretching, and warming up for the rehearsal. “I still can’t believe it!” Angie said excitedly. “They did “Dark of the Moon” here, and now I’m going to be performing here! Just look at the size of this place!” Peggy grinned at Jarvis as his eyes were drawn to the other chorus girls. “Admiring the architecture, Mr. Jarvis?” Jarvis immediately snapped out of it. “Hmm? Oh! Really, Miss Carter, I am a married man, you will recall.” “MARTINELLI!” Angie winced as a man in suspenders and glasses fumed up the aisle toward them. “Where the hell have you been? You were supposed to be here 30 minutes ago!” Angie quickly set her purse down and took off her coat as she tried to explain. “Sorry, Mr. Hebson. The traffic was worse than I thought and…” “This is New York, Martinelli! You are paid to show up for rehearsals and dance! All we ask is that you try to both of those things on time!” Hebson then turned his eyes on Peggy and Jarvis. “And just what are you people doing here?” Peggy felt bad for Angie as she stammered. “Er…They’re a…couple of friends of mine. I thought they could…” “You aren’t paid to think, Martinelli,” Hebson snapped. “This isn’t some show in your church basement! This is an Equity rehearsal and we don’t need any busybodies snooping around and getting in the way!” Peggy stepped forward to Angie’s side. “Mr. Hebson, I’m sorry, but I don’t think that’s anyway to talk to one of your performers.” Hebson glared at Peggy. “Look, lady, I’m trying to run a rehearsal, here. You and this string bean can clear out right now!” “Is there a problem, Mr. Hebson?” Peggy turned where the voice was coming from. Walking down the aisle was a man in a suit, a ruffled shirt, and an opera cloak. His black hair and beard were well maintained, and the lights glinted off the monocle in his right eye. He had a cane under his right arm, and two imposing gentlemen in suits and fedoras two steps behind him. Hebson’s attitude changed almost instantly. “Count! I’m sorry! I er… forgot you were coming in today. I was just dealing with a late arrival. Miss Adams hasn’t got here yet, and Miss Martinelli thought she could bring her friends here…” The count held up his hand to silence Hebson. “Calm yourself, Mr. Hebson,” he said in his Italian accent, as he gave an elegant bow to Peggy. "Forgive Mr. Hebson. The theater is a place for drama, some of it even on the stage. Permit me to introduce myself. I am the Count Luchino Nefaria. A pleasure to meet you, miss…?” Peggy flushed slightly as Nefaria kissed her hand. “Carter. Peggy Carter. And this is Mr. Edwin Jarvis.” Jarvis gave a small wave, but Nefaria had already turned his gaze back to Angie. “You should both be very proud of Miss Martinelli. She has shown a great deal of talent and potential. I am sure this won’t be the last play we will be seeing her in.” Angie beamed with pride. “Gee! I mean, thank you, sir. I mean, count.” “Think nothing of it, my dear,” Nefaria chuckled. “We didn’t mean to cause any trouble, count,” said Peggy. “We will be on our way and you can begin the rehearsal.” Nefaria waved his hand dismissively. “Nonsense! I am here to observe the process myself. I am sure Miss Martinelli would appreciate seeing some familiar faces in the audience.” Hebson quickly cut between Peggy and Nefaria. “Er, but count! This is a closed rehearsal. What if they went to the papers? The critics would…” “You are not splitting the atom, Mr.Hebson. You are leading a choreography rehearsal. I’m sure Miss Carter and Mr. Jarvis will behave themselves so as to not interfere with the proceedings.” “But, count, I…” Hebson’s voice stopped as he noticed the stern look from Nefaria, and the sterner looks from the two bodyguards behind him. “Um, of course, count. Whatever you say.” Nefaria’s smile returned. “Brilliant! I will take my place in the house and I will leave you to do the same. A pleasure meeting you both, Miss Carter. Mr. Jarvis. Mr. Hebson, come with me. We need to discuss the Miss Adams situation.” Nefaria and his men strode to the back row of the theater and took their seats. Hebson gave a last dirty look to Angie. “Get in your rehearsal gear and get on the stage. We’ll be starting in 5 minutes with or without Miss Adams.” He hurried after Nefaria, and Angie, pausing a moment to share a wink with Peggy, rushed to join the other chorus girls on the stage. Peggy continued to look towards the back row. “So. That’s the famous Count Nefaria.” Jarvis nodded. “He has been in the papers a great deal lately. Donating art. Running charitable balls. And apparently being the bankroller of Miss Martinelli’s play.” Peggy’s expression grew more serious. “I’ve read about him too, Mr. Jarvis, but not in the society pages. In his file at the SSR. He has been investigated by the FBI for possible connections to various criminal organizations.” Jarvis glanced nervously toward Nefaria. “Organizations such as the Maggia?” “Helloooo, everyone!” Before Peggy could reply she was interrupted by the doors of the theater swinging open and a woman’s voice echoing around the room. She was an attractive woman with blonde hair and wore a blue dress, hat and sunglasses. She breezed passed Hebson and made her way down the aisle. Hebson rushed after her. “Miss Adams! We’ve been waiting for you for over 30 minutes! This is the fifth time this week!” “Oh, relax, Walter,” she said nonchalantly. “You’re going to give yourself a heart attack one of these days. Like my mother always said, ‘Gentle, gentle’.” She stopped short when she saw Jarvis. “Well, well! Jervis!” Peggy turned to Jarvis. “You know her?” Jarvis cleared his throat. “Well, somewhat. By association.” Peggy closed her eyes and sighed. “Howard?” “Regrettably, yes.” Diana Adams strolled over to Jarvis with coy smile. “It’s been so long, Jervis. How is poor, busy Howard? Is this his new… friend?” Jarvis looked nervously back and forth from Diana and Peggy. “Um, this is Peggy Carter, an… associate of Mr. Stark. As for Mr. Stark himself, he’s still California working on his picture.” Diana nodded, feigning interest. “Oh, that’s nice. Jervis, when you see poor Howard next, maybe you could give him something for me?” Diana suddenly slapped Jarvis in the face. Peggy moved toward her as Hebson grabbed her arm. “Miss Adams, will you control yourself?” Diana sneered at Jarvis. “That’s for leaving me waiting for an hour at the Onyx! He’s lucky I don’t fly to California to deliver it to him in person!” “Miss Adams!” said Hebson. “Don’t make this any harder than it has to be.” Diana looked confused at Hebson. “What are you talking about, Walter? I’m here now, so let’s get on with the rehearsal.” Hebson looked towards the back row. “Unfortunately it’s not that simple. Not this time. I regret to inform you that you will no longer be a part of this production.” Diana’s eyes flashed in anger. “What are you saying? You’re firing me?!” Hebson held out his hands to Diana. “This is out of my control, Miss Adams. This comes straight from the count himself. You’ve been constantly late for rehearsals and increasingly impossible to work with. You nearly got into a fist fight with a chorus girl at the last rehearsal.” “It was her fault!” Diana screeched. “She was the one out of place in the number! This is real rich! A man like Nefaria, with his two hoodlums is allowed to waltz into the theater whenever they want. Those are some people who’ve been in fist fights and God knows what else!” Peggy touched Diana’s shoulder. “Please, Miss Adams, if you would just take a moment to…” Diana pulled away from Peggy and glared at her. “Keep away from me! I don’t need sympathy from one of Howard Stark’s floozies!” “That’s enough, Diana!” snapped Hebson. “Go to your dressing room and clear it out. You’re done here!” Diana shoved Peggy out of the way past the rest of the chorus girls as she walked onto the stage. “I’m not done, Walter! You can’t throw me out that easily! Nobody pushes aside Diana Adams!” She ran backstage and slammed the door of her dressing room. She leaned against the door, looking to the ceiling in frustration. Then she looked toward the make up table. Sitting on the table in front of the mirror was a large white gift box wrapped in red, blue, and black ribbon. Back in the theater, Peggy tended to Jarvis as Hebson turned his attention to the chorus girls. “Alright, ladies, let get this thing moving. Martinelli! You take the lead for this bit.” Angie’s face lit up in surprise. “You want me to do lead?” “Just for the rehearsal, Martinelli. Don’t get ahead of yourself. Just try to do it right. Okay, Joe, start at the introduction, 5th measure. Places, ladies.” The chorus girls took their positions on the stage with Angie in front. A piano started a ragtime tune and they went into a tap routine. Peggy looked on in approval as she watched Angie seem to effortlessly take to the dance. No doubt after several hours of practice in Howard Stark’s kitchen. A series of gunshots suddenly rang out from the stage. The chorus girls screamed and started running in every direction. Angie ran to the wings out of sight as others ducked behind scenery. A woman in a red trench coat and skirt stormed onto the stage. She wore a domino mask and a red fedora, and she carried a revolver in both hands. Peggy and Jarvis ducked behind the row of chairs as Hebson ran behind the piano. “Nefaria!” the woman yelled. “Face your judgement!” Nefaria stayed in his seat as his bodyguards rushed the stage with guns drawn. The woman in red fired a bullet that struck one of them in the shoulder and the other in the hand. Both yelled in pain and dropped their guns, leaving her free to deliver a kick to the head that sent them collapsing into each other. She marched up the aisle with a revolver aimed at Nefaria. “You will not escape justice!” Peggy leapt from behind the row and tackled the woman to the ground. “Mr. Jarvis!” she yelled as she struggled to pin her to the floor. “Get the others out of here!” Jarvis nodded and hurried to the stage. He stood for a moment in front of the women as they looked frightened up at him. “Um, ladies, if we could all make our way to the exits?” They looked at him in disbelief for a moment before Angie jumped up. “You heard the man! Move it!” Angie took off with the chorus girls, Hebson, the pianist, and Jarvis right behind. The woman in red delivered a backhanded strike to Peggy, forcing her off. Peggy leaned against a chair as the woman stared at her. “This is not your concern. I am here for Nefaria.” Peggy got to her feet. “Is that you, Miss Adams? Why don’t we put a stop to this before more people get hurt?” “The only people who will get hurt are criminal scum like Nefaria. But if you’re going to defend him…” She drew her revolver only to have Peggy kick it aside. She delivered a right hand to the face of the woman who staggered back, but looked back at Peggy with a dangerous smile. “You’ll have to hit harder than that.” She gave a yell and leapt toward Peggy. OK: Can Peggy stop Miss Masque’s rampage? Or will Miss Masque bring Nefaria to ‘justice’? And what is Nefaria’s connection to the Maggia? Stay tuned to find out! Game On!

Battlesphere Battle Royal Part 27 Currently in the Ring: Eliminated Chloe Bourgeois Katie Ka-Boom (Toon Monster form) Red Claw (Adult sized, fighting skill) Tinker Bell (Flight, Pixie dust) Wednesday Addams (weapons, fighting skill) Chel (cleverness) Miss America Mercy Graves (Fighting skills) Anamaria (Weapons, fighting skills Elsa (Ice powers) Ruby Rose (Semblance, Crescent Rose, fighting skill) Phantom Lady Chell (Aperture Science Portal Device) Elsa (Ice powers) Carmen Sandiego (Tech, fighting skill) Ladybug Chell (Aperture Science Portal Device) Baby Doll (Tech) Cassie Cage Trini Kwan (Yellow Ranger powers) *THE FOLLOWING BROADCAST IS BEING PRESENTED BY THE TRANSDIMENSIONAL COMBAT COMMISSION. ALL COMBATANTS MUST AGREE TO FOLLOW TCC GUIDELINES AT ALL TIMES. SAFETY OF ATENDEES IS NOT GUARANTEED.* Andel Sanap: Ladybug has wrapped up Miss Bourgeois up with her yoyo but Miss Bourgeois takes to the air! Miss Cage draws a Blade Blaster opens fire as Miss Bourgeois tries to swing Ladybug into the wall! Al Rossi: But check out Miss America and Phantom Lady! They’ve both finished with their power ups! Miss America is now wearing Ruby’s cloak and hood, and she has the Crescent Rose scythe! Meanwhile Phantom Lady now is adorned in Carmen Sandiego’s trademark hat and trench coat! Andel Sanap: With the other three combatants fighting each other, it appears we will be having a showdown between our two Golden Age heroines. Al Rossi: And here we go! Both of them went to Elsa’s ice magic! The magic blasts collide and scatter all over the ring! Miss America soars toward Phantom Lady who places a portal in the ring! Leaps into the air, ice and black light to the face of Miss America! Andel Sanap: The force of the blasts send Miss America tumbling into the portal! Phantom Lady puts another portal on the Battlesphere wall, but Miss America zooms through it and flies back into the ring! Al Rossi: She’s using Petal Burst! She whirls around Phantom Lady, lifting her into the air! She has to fire one of Carmen’s grapple hooks to keep from being carried out of the ring! Andel Sanap: The hook attaches to the top of the Battlesphere! Phantom Lady is taking a risk by taking the fight to the air. But will it pay off by eliminating Miss America? OK: Miss America (The fighting skills and weapons of Mercy, Anamaria, and Ruby, and Elsa’s ice magic) (Full strength) vs Phantom Lady (Chell’s Aperture Science Portal Device, Elsa’s ice magic, and Carmen’s tech and fighting skill) (Full strength) Also currently in the ring: Chloe Bourgeois, Cassie Cage, and Ladybug. Winner gets the losers powers and abilities. Game On!

AND NOW THE CONCLUSION The Black Terror rolled out of the way of Ox’s fist which cracked the concrete where his head was. He kicked with both feet into Ox’s chest and sent him sprawling on top of Fancy Dan. Montana swung wildly with a right hand but the Black Terror ducked and returned with an uppercut that knocked him against the alley wall. His eyes rolled back in his head as the Black Terror turned his attention back to the stirring Ox. He delivered a swinging hammer blow to the giant’s head, then another and another. With a final hit, Ox finally fell back senseless onto Fancy Dan. Montana reached into his suit coat and pulled out a revolver. He aimed it at the back of the Black Terror. “Play time’s over, friend,” he hissed as he tried to focus his aim. Suddenly a boomerang whizzed passed the Black Terror’s head and collided with Montana’s hand. He cried in pain as the gun went off. The Black Terror looked back at Montana, then above to the rooftops. Leaping from a fire escape was a man in a red and blue suit. He expertly caught the boomerang as it returned to him, then let it fly again to strike Montana in the head, finally knocking him unconscious. The Black Terror gazed at the figure as it landed in front of him, slowly rising from his stance. Taking a look at Montana and his gun, the Black Terror turned back to face the devil. “Thank you. I appreciate the assistance. Who are you?” The devil just tilted his head as he stared back at the Black Terror. “Do you understand me? Can you speak at all?” The devil just strode past the Black Terror and picked up Montana off the ground, dragging him next to his fellow enforcers. “I suppose that answers my question,” the Black Terror mused. The devil pointed at the three moaning and unconscious men with his boomerang and then at the Black Terror. “These men are criminals. They have been extorting money. I’m going to take back what they stole then leave them to the police.” The Black Terror walked toward them only to have the devil grab his right arm. He looked at the devil in confusion. “What? Do you have a better idea?” The devil nodded, then tapped the Black Terror’s cutlass three times with his boomerang. Then he pointed at each of the enforcers, followed by making a slashing motion across his throat. The Black Terror’s eyes widened in shock. “No! I’m not going to kill them!” The devil repeated the gesture, then pointed at the Black Terror and mimed slapping his own hand with the boomerang. “It’s not a slap on the wrist! I’m not going to kill them in cold blood. Look, I know they are criminals. And I can see you want to clean up this city. So do I. But there are other ways of finding justice.” The devil shook his head and held up one finger. He turned to the enforcers and drew a short blade from his belt. Swiftly the Black Terror drew his cutlass and blocked the devil’s way with it. “You will listen to me. I’m not going to let you kill them!” The devil turned to look at the Black Terror, and, holding his gaze, stepped closer so the blade of the cutlass touched his neck. The men locked eyes for a moment, then the devil looked over the Black Terror’s shoulder. He stepped away from the cutlass with a dramatic bow. The Black Terror looked back in confusion to see that the three enforcers had gone. He cursed under his breath. Most likely they ran while he dealt with the devil. The Black Terror turned around just in time to see the devil scurrying up the alley wall, onto the rooftops and out of sight. Los Angeles, California. Waverly Memorial Hospital “Mr. Sousa! Mr. Sousa!” Chief Daniel Sousa’s daydreaming was interrupted by the cries of the nurse. He sat up in his chair outside Jack Thompson’s hospital room as she ran out. “Mr. Sousa! Mr. Thompson is regaining consciousness, sir!” Daniel quickly grabbed his crutch and followed the nurse into the room. Jack stirred in his bed, moaning slightly as the nurse went to his bedside. “Easy does it, Mr. Thompson. Can you hear me, Mr. Thompson?” Jack gave an affirmative groan in reply. “That’s good. And you have a friend from the office hear to see you.” The nurse waved to Daniel to move to the opposite side of the bed. It was strange for Daniel to see Jack, a man so confident to point of arrogance be so weakened. He made his way to Jack’s side and spoke softly. “Jack? It’s Daniel. How are you feeling?” Slowly Jack’s eyes opened, moving from the nurse to Daniel. There was a moment where he squinted to try to clear his vision. Then his eyes widened in fear. He pushed back from Daniel, almost launching himself off the bed if not for the presence of the nurse. “Mr. Thompson! Please calm down! You’re in the hospital! There’s nothing to be afraid of.” Daniel stood in shock as he watched Jack’s reaction. “Jack! It’s ok. I want to help you. Do you remember what happened? Who did this?” Jack’s head snapped back toward Daniel with a look of pain and rage. “You!” he gasped. “Why you?” Any other words were lost in fit of coughing. “Mr. Thompson! Please!” the nurse said. She looked back at Daniel as she eased Jack back into the bed. “I’m sorry, Mr. Sousa. Maybe it would be best if you leave.” As Daniel walked to the door, he took one last moment to look back at Jack in confusion. “You! Why you?” Los Angeles, California. Five miles from the Polizzi’s restaurant. Joseph Manfredi was not in a good mood. He very rarely was in a good mood. But on this evening, sitting in the backseat of one his cars, he was even more enraged than usual. “I don’t believe you guys! I say to pick me up at 6 to get me to the restaurant, those jamokes don’t bother to show up! I have to wait around for you idiots to bring me in this heap!” The two Manfredi family mobsters in the front seats said nothing, knowing how unwise it would be to interrupt their boss. But as they drew closer to Polizzi’s, the mobster in the passenger seat piped up. “Uh, boss?” “What?” Joseph snarled. “Um, no offense, but isn’t that your car?” Joseph leaned to get a better view through the windshield. Lo and behold, another black sedan was parked outside of Polizzi’s. The driver of Joseph’s car pulled behind it and parked, as Joseph swung open the door and stormed into the restaurant. Two more of his men were sitting at a table playing cards. When they saw their boss, they both looked up in confusion. “Boss! Er, did you just step out?” Joseph slapped the face of the unfortunate mobster. “Shut up, Ralph! You and Paul were supposed to pick me up two hours ago? Do you think you can play games with me and keep Nonna waiting for me?” “But..But..But we did pick you up, boss!” Ralph stammered. “Honest! You called and said you wanted us to pick you up early! So that’s what we did!” Joseph delivered another slap to Ralph. “What are you talking about? Now you lying about me calling you?” Tears came to Ralph’s eyes as he pleaded. “I swear on my mother’s eyes, boss. You called us, we picked you up! You’re in the kitchen right now!” Joseph stopped short of delivering another slap, his eyes fixed on the door to the kitchen. Suddenly he drew his revolver, ran to the kitchen door and kicked it open. Standing calmly at the stove, stirring a pot of sauce, stood another Joseph Manfredi in an apron with a towel over his right shoulder. The double turned to face Joseph with his gun drawn and smiled friendly at him. “Hey, Joey!” he said in Joseph’s voice. “How you been? You oughtta try some of this sauce. I’m helping Nonna with a new recipe.” Joseph aimed the revolver at his double. “Is that you, Dmitri? I swear to God if you’ve hurt Nonna…” The double stepped away from the oven with his hands raised, still smiling. “Take it easy, Joey. Most guys are happy to see a familiar face.” The door to the pantry opened, and Joseph’s grandmother Nonna walked in holding a spice jar in each hand. “Continuo a pensare che i chiodi di garofano avrebbereo un sapore migliore di…” She froze in place as she realized she was talking to two men who both looked like her grandson, one of whom was pointing a gun at the other. “Giuseppe? Giuseppe, che sta succedendo?” “Calma, calma, Nonna,” the double soothed, not breaking eye contact with Joseph. “We just have ourselves a case of mistaken identity.” Joseph cocked the revolver and glared at the double. “You have 5 seconds to take that thing off.” “Joey, Joey,” the double chuckled. “Not in front of Nonna. You know I’m not much for crowds anyway. Why don’t we have a freindly talk, man to man, and we can sort this out?” Joseph thought for a moment, then spoke to Nonna. “Nonna? I need you to go in the dining room with the boys, ok? Everything’s going to be fine. Just tell the boys that I want to be alone with our friend here.” Nonna nervously walked out of the kitchen, her gaze shifting from one to the other. When Nonna closed the door to the kitchen, Joseph took a step toward the double. “Ok, we’re alone. Now are you going to take that damn thing off or do I have blow your whole head off right here?” “Very well, Joseph,” the double said, his accent suddenly sounding Russian in origin. The double reached behind his head and pulled on the back of his neck. The skin gave way, because in reality, it was not skin. The latex mask slid off the double’s head, revealing another blank, white mask beneath. Featureless except for holes for the mouth and eyes, which stared piercingly at Joseph. The mobster holstered his weapon and sat at the table, trying not to appear unnerved by the sight of his discarded face lying in front of him. “You have got a lot of nerve messing with Nonna like that, Dmitri.” Dmitri tossed the towel aside and took off the apron. “You understand, Joseph, that my talents must be practiced regular in order that they remain sharp in the service to your father and to the Maggia.” “Yeah, yeah, cut to the chase. What does the old buzzard want?” Dmitri scooped some of the sauce into a bowl and removed a straw from his pocket as he explained. “Mr. Manfredi has requested that you return to New York immediately. You are to choose ten of your best men, and be on the next flight.” Joseph gave a humorless laugh. “Sure. The old man never calls, never writes. Now he expects me to run to him like dog just cuz he says so?” Dmitri’s eyes glared through the mask as he stood over Joseph. “He expects you to act as a member of Maggia, and worthy of his name. After all the inconveniences you caused in New York, you should have considered yourself lucky that you were placed in charge of our interests here. And yet you have squandered it chasing after mad, movie stars.” Joseph glared up at Dmitri. “Oh yes, we know about the fiasco involving you and Whitney Frost. But your father is still willing to give you a chance to redeem yourself. My task is to see that you are on the next plane to New York. Whether that is in a window seat or in the cargo hold inside several pieces of small luggage is up to you.” Dmitri reached into his pocket and tossed a plane ticket on the table in front of Joseph. He picked up the ticket and looked up at Dmitri with a smirk. “You couldn’t have got me an aisle seat?” Dmitri simply sucked at the sauce through his straw. Joseph sighed then slipped the ticket in his pocket. “Fine. I’ll go. But who will run things here?” “As far as the world knows, you will. In reality, I will be in charge in your absence.” Joseph straightened up in his chair. “You mean, you’ll be playing me?! Hey, I’m not ok with that!” Dmitri leaned in close to Joseph’s face. “You do not have a choice in this matter, Joseph,” he hissed. “This is Mr. Manfredi’s decision. And you will abide by it.” Joseph’s head lowered and Dmitri, satisfied, stood up and walked back to the oven. He put down the bowl and put out a workman’s jumpsuit from one of the cupboards. He slipped into it over his clothes, then pulled another mask and wig from his pocket. Dmitri had transformed himself into a Hispanic man in a mustache and brown hair. “Until tomorrow morning, senor,” he said in a new accent. Collecting the spare mask and putting it in a toolbox he carried, Dmitri walked out the door, through the dining room, passed Nonna and Joseph’s confused bodyguards, and out the door of Polizzi’s. Joseph Manfredi sat motionless in the kitchen before putting his head in his hands. “Oh boy.” Stay Tuned for Episode 2: Pistol Packin' Mama!