Post by The Polar Phantasm on Sept 28, 2016 15:46:47 GMT -6
Phantasm (voiceover): Woke up with my back against a wall again. Literally; I'm not sure who keeps doing this to me while I'm sleeping, but their point is made. Thoroughly.
[Scene: the bedroom of the Unstable Elements. Here at Guardians HQ, now located in the tunnels beneath the Drunken Dragon in Little China, the Bankstons have made a comfortable home for themselves... though this would seem almost insulting to Cameron Bankston Jr. these days. He hasn't woken up feeling rested in weeks... and, weary as he is upon waking, he continues to find a massive amount of drama awaiting him each morning. Here we see him open his eyes, think for a few moments... blink awkwardly. Door opens; in comes Bonnie Blue, cup of coffee in hand. She hands the coffee to Polar, giving him a smile.]
Bonnie: Mornin', sunshine. So how do we handle the match this week?
[He sighs.]
Phantasm: Fuck, what day is this?
Bonnie: Cam, it's Thursday. How do you not already know what we're doing? That's... what you do.
Phantasm: I know. I know. Just give me a minute- god, my brain hurts.
Bonnie: Alright, well... get on that, 'cause we also have to figure out what to do with-
[He groans loudly with frustration.]
Phantasm: Jesus, Bonnie, give me a minute... I want to solve all of our problems, but I have to be able to solve one of them before I can solve the other however many things.
Bonnie: If you didn't want to have to deal with all of this, you shouldn't have decided to be the leader.
Phantasm: Ouch.
[There is a quiet moment. Bonnie isn't quite mad, but she isn't quite not mad; Cam is... crying?]
Bonnie: Cameron... oh shit, Cam...
Phantasm: I don't know what's wrong with me, Bonnie. I feel like I might be dying or something. I wake up feeling like I never slept... I try to remember yesterday and end up remembering two months ago. I don't know what's happening to me and I'm scared.
[Her countenance softens... she approaches slowly, not sure what to say.]
Comedian: It's not you- it's me.
[Bonnie and Polar turn to see a familiar sight... though looking a bit (ok, a lot) rough around the edges. The Comedian, creator of the Unstable Elements (and much of this universe, in fact) can barely stand up straight; he's dripping with sweat, his face is sunburned and his eyes are glazed over.]
Phantasm: Shit, what happened...?! You look like you've walked through a desert-
Comedian: Just a food desert... hour walk across the Seventh Ward to get to keys. Cam, Bonnie- I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I lost my powers somewhere.
[The Guardians look to one another... neither know particularly what to say to this, though there are many metaphysical questions this brings up.]
Comedian: It's taking all I've got just to hold this up. I just... fuck, I... I failed.
[The strange man collapses on the floor... as the pair rush to help him, he shouts in a pained mumble.]
Comedian: NO, DON'T-
[Bonnie recoils in time; Polar pulls back, but the Comedian reaches out to grab his arm.]
Comedian: She can't save us... not from ourself.
[And, with that, both men vanish in a huff of smoke. Bonnie Blue, despite all she's seen in her young but interesting life, seems dumbfounded by what just transpired. She stumbles a bit as she heads for the door; frantically, she looks around for anyone who could confirm she's not dreaming (or anything else, for that matter). As she enters the living area, she sees Alex Richards and Rebecca Thatch having a beverage (evidently now quite accustomed to Guardian life, Miss Thatch seems to be drinking from a high-heeled ladies' boot)... upon seeing them frozen in time, though, she realizes what has happened.]
Bonnie: God damnit. God damn you, Comedian... damn you to hell for making me need you. Bring us back Polar... a whole Polar.
[She huffs in worry.]
Bonnie: Please.
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[Scene: Antarctica, LA - boyhood home of Cameron Bankston. Well, it's a bit different here... Cam glances around, wondering why the wallpaper and the furniture is different. Once he sees the nostalgic haze on his creator's face, though... once he sees the tear form in his eye... that's when he makes a very large jump in logic.]
Phantasm: This is where it started, isn't it?
[Sniffling a bit, the Comedian nods very slightly. He reaches up and touches a doorframe as he walks beneath it; Polar notices that, there in the doorframe, is carved the word "ANTARCTICA".]
Phantasm: This is the door to- our room. Oh my god...
[Cam walks into a scene so different but so strikingly similar... there, in what was his bedroom (with a few obvious differences; he was never, ever this gothy) he notices five others... five men the spitting image of Lucien Hicks, Renegade Reporter/Detective/?. Five men who, instinctively, he knows share an identical but quite different name.]
Phantasm: Is this where you go when you disappear?
Comedian: No. This where the rest of me has gone as it's slowly been driven out of what's left of me... see that? That's our determination. He was the first to leave... motherfucker's aggravating when he doesn't have shit to do. Next to him, sitting on the edge of the bed staring longingly at that woman's photograph? That's love; he hung on the longest. Now all he's got to cling to is that picture. That's our vision- know how you can't see even one move ahead anymore instead of six or seven like usual? It's that fucker's fault- all he wants to do now is sleep. That one's wit, and he's probably the one we miss the most... fuck, man, what kinda Comedian can't come up with a line on the spot? And then... there's THIS FUCKER!
[Polar recoils a step or two as the other aspects stare in shock and trepidation... their final aspect, frustration, has come for them; none of them expected, however, that his strength would be greater than all of theirs combined by the time he'd come calling. None of them could even fathom, then, that he would pull a .38 Colt Detective Special and hold it at the forehead of knowledge.]
Phantasm: What the fuck, man, that's our brain! You can't-
Comedian: I CAN AND I FUCKING WILL! KNOWLEDGE, YOU ARE AS USELESS AS THE REST OF ME UNLESS YOU TELL ME- ALL OF ME- WHAT YOU THINK YOU HAVE FORGOTTEN. WHAT IS IT?! WHAT HAVE I FORGOTTEN THAT-
Knowledge (whispering): In the corporeal world, I am a comedian... in many, many others I am the master of reality. I build worlds. I create because most won't or can't. I am-
Comedian: Oh my fuck, how did I forget... that's why I've been so murderous and desperate. That's why you're dying... it's 'cause I'm a fucking idiot. Come on, Cam- I think we can still save your team.
Phantasm: My team?! What the-
Comedian: Guardian, reassemble.
[With a flash, all aspects are reunited... Cam notices as the Comedian surges with power. He seethes for a second, and then... reaching into his trenchcoat pocket, he pulls out a pack of Pall Mall cigarettes. He retrieves and lights one of them with what is obviously a degree of practice... he then calmly says one sentence.]
Comedian: My name is Brian Bonhagen, and I can do *anything*.
[With that, all becomes white... the Phantasm appears in the living quarters at Guardians HQ (a bit confused but otherwise intact) about three feet from a bewildered Bonnie Blue.]
Bonnie: Cam- what the hell just happened?
Phantasm: I- I think god got his mojo back.
[As if to punctuate Cameron's sentence, the pair hear a loud chime that seems to come from everywhere and nowhere at once.]
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[Scene: The Hague. We see what appears to be a library; rows of shelves lined with books surround a table and a few chairs, two of which are filled with members of Earth's first international metahuman peacekeeping organization. Seated before us, pouring through old tomes in search of clues, we see Philip Bacon (aka Quartz) and Jack Hampshire (aka Jack of Shadows)... two founding members of the Renaissance Men and two very in-tune fellows by any measure.]
Quartz: Jack- you got that book on the Magyars handy still?
Hampshire: It should be- blast, where'd I-
[...a loud chime echoes, seemingly from a great distance away... yet heard as clearly as if in the room with them.]
Hampshire: ...what fresh hell is this?
-------------------------------------
[Scene: New Orleans, Louisiana. We see a disheveled looking shotgun house turned small office... though its paint peels and its sun-baked roof needs reshingling, this office is perhaps the most important (yet barely known) entity in post-Wave NOLA. This is 439 S. Murat Street. This is the home of one Lucien Harold Hicks... and, more importantly, the Ouroboros Defense Agency. Alone in the front room of the office, Jackson Masters - known to his friends as Jax - sits at a desk rubbing his temples. A loud chime, seeming to echo from the heavens, snaps him out of his headache-management ritual... he blinks twice, as if something has suddenly disappeared.]
Jax: What the fuck? My headache's just... gone.
[The phone beside him rings... with a slight laugh, he answers.]
Jax: Ouroboros Defense Agency... *can* we help you?
[At the other end of the phone, the slightly panicked voice of Nikolette Kinsey - known to her friends as Nike - makes a very general-sounding but very specific-intended inquiry.]
Nike: Are you alright?
Jax: Yeah, Nike, I'm great. Hey, did you hear a-
Nike: I felt it... I felt everybody within two square blocks of me feel it, Jax. Something's different.
Jax: Hold up- lemme get Lucien. He musta gotten trashed with Alvin and them last night... hey, Lucien!
[He shouts to the rear of the house, expecting to hear perhaps an angry mumble. He hears nothing.]
Jax: Lucien, you alright man?!
[...a door opens... a man the spitting image of the Comedian emerges, determination plain as day on his face.]
Lucien: Tell Nike to get over here. We've got work to do.
Jax: What? Hey, you're-
Lucien: I'M ALIVE, JACKSON. I'm fucking alive. I haven't felt like this in eight fucking years, man.
Jax: ...like how? Like what?
Lucien: Like I can actually *save* this fucking town.
[He picks up his pipe from his desk... he puts it back on the desk, turning toward the door.]
Lucien: I'll celebrate when I'm done. Catch up if you can, ok?
[Before Jax can respond, Lucien opens his door... as it swings closed behind him, we watch as he leaps into the air... about two miles away, we see a cloud of dust emerge.]
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[Scene: an abandoned processing plant, somewhere in Western Nebraska. A loud unearthly chime distracts a frustrated-looking young bespectacled man in his attempts to build a twelve-foot tall robot out of Sega Dreamcasts... he stumbles, falling from a ladder and into a box filled with packing peanuts. His robot tumbles to pieces, its crash - somewhat ironically - sounds like a muffled "SEGA". This activates a voice-operated switch, which turns on a Genesis system across the room...]
Genesis: SEGA!
8-Bit: That blasted racket had to have been those shitsucking Guardians... oh, don't worry, Guardians... you'll be seeing me again very, very soon. You'll be seeing me... and Deathcast!
[He looks at his crumbled creation.]
8-Bit: Piece of shit- no wonder you asshats got donkeypunched by Sony.
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[Scene: the Rock of Ages. Amidst a room of hovering clocks, some with no hands (and some with more than twenty), we see a throne made of an aethereal substance... and a dark, scarred figure sitting upon it. The chime deafens the dark time god...]
Scathe(?): NO! You are supposed to die! YOU ARE SUPPOSED TO BE DEAD BY NOW!
[This 'man', obviously no mere mortal, is known to the Guardians by another name... a name that drives fear into the hearts of even the bravest of souls. A name that has such great power that - it is rumored, anyhow - it may even have power over the entity itself.]
Scathe(?): You who have led them to know too much... YOU DO NOT BELONG IN THIS REALM!
[With one last utterance, the very fabric of time reverberates like ripples in a pond...]
Scathe(?): TIMASTENZI COMMANDS THAT YOU. SHOULD. NOT. BE!
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[Scene: Andromeda Galaxy... Daran System. More specifically, the planet of Aja Darrik... and the throne room of Darrikaan Empress Sasha. As she is fanned by two purple-skinned chambermaids, the chime echoes loudly through her chamber... it shatters beautiful colored glass sculptures along the walls, leaving not a one intact.]
Sasha: Guards- defend your Empress, we are under attack!
[An emissary rushes into the room.]
Emissary: Mistress, it appears we have encountered a sonic phenomenon... it has likely come from space, your majesty.
[She snarls angrily.]
Sasha: Have the Imperial Astronomers find the source of this... 'sonic phenomenon'.
[She looks around at her messied throne room... under her breath, she mumbles through gritted teeth.]
Sasha: I would like to crush it.
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[Scene: the broken world of Last Bastion... more specifically, the headquarters of the Paradigm Industries Corporation. In the breakroom of the large corporate structure - an obvious standout amongst a backdrop of midevil castles and fortified city walls - we see two odd figures; one, a man made entirely out of corporeal shadow, eats a pudding cup. The other, an eight-foot tall minotaur, appears to be chowing down on a reuben sandwich. The loud chime echoes through the walls of the building, causing both to look up in confusion.]
Mikkel: ...Holy Siva, did Rynor fart again or what?
Expungus: Wasn't *that* loud... besides, you'd already see the cloud. That sounded interdimensional to this Phantasm.
[The shadow-man looks at his wristwatch.]
Mikkel: Think we got time after lunch to check it out?
[The minotaur shrugs.]
Expungus: If this is another realm with only two dimensions, though...
Mikkel: Right, right. You'll chop my head off.
Expungus: That's right. I'll chop your goddamn head off.
Mikkel: You are the worst best friend ever, Sponge.
[The minotaur shakes his head, trying not to laugh.]
Expungus: Please don't ever call me that again. You know I go by-
Mikkel: "Polar"? Dude, you're from Sonoirh Myrk. How the fuck you get a name like "Polar" living in the swamp?
[Expungus nods his head slightly, grunting something under his breath. His lunch companion finds he is unable to speak; in frustration, he chars three words into the table.]
"NOT COOL BRO"
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[Scene: Garfield Park, Chicago. What was once a crime-infested slum was turned into 'City Hollow'... and what was City Hollow has once again been turned into Garfield Park. The churches have no boards on the doors... the buildings show no sign of arson, the streets showing no sign of massive riots. We see the Comedian gazing at his craftwork... a large black man with knotty dreads, obviously homeless, approaches the Comedian. This shocks the Comedian briefly, as time in the city has been stopped... for all but those out of phase with this reality, of course. That would include one Miss Bonnie Blue... and one celestial being known to us on this world simply as 'the Viewmaster'.]
Viewmaster: Bonhagen... big fan, man.
Comedian: Really? You know who I am?
Viewmaster: I see everything. Your anal sex joke? About the Waffle House?
Comedian: Yeah, too many people tell me how much they like that joke... in public... when I'm on dates. Fucks the whole ice-breaking thing up, you know? Big fan of yours too, man-
[Viewmaster reacts as if to shush the Comedian.]
Comedian: -the whole thing where Mae Young gave birth to the hand was kinda weak, but-
[Viewmaster laughs, even as he tries to silence the Comedian.]
Viewmaster: Come on, man, I'm incognito here.
Comedian: They're all frozen, nobody can hear us. We're just two non-fictional guys fucking around in a fictional reality... what else you gonna do, right? Shoot the shit, bust some balls, remap a major metropolitan area... you know, whatevs.
Viewmaster: You're doing a great thing here today, man.
Comedian: What kinda Comedian would I be if I didn't show some love to the Second City?
Viewmaster: This place was hurtin'.
Comedian: All I'm doing is undoing the damage a bunch of shit-heels did before they cut out and ran off chasing belts to Pennsylvania. Any asshole can ruin the world. Shit, I'm a double asshole for helping them break it in the first place. They split... this one specific asshole gets to fix it.
Viewmaster: Careful... as the man said, "You want the position of God, then take the responsibility."
Comedian: ...you quotin' Chris Eccleston at me, 'Sexual Chocolate'?
[The Comedian laughs.]
Comedian: 'Cause if so, that makes my fuckin' day. Problem is, man... I ain't got much choice. It has become increasingly clear to me that I already *have* the responsibility.
[He looks at his cellphone, noticing he has eight texts awaiting him.]
Comedian: Oh, shit- the team! Later, man- don't tear any ligaments!
Viewmaster: Don't bomb on stage, brutha.
[And with that, the Comedian vanishes.]
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[Scene: South Wentworth Avenue, Little China. Bonnie Blue and the Polar Phantasm charge through the doors of the Drunken Dragon just in time to see two amazing things- the world around them begins moving once more, almost as if they'd unpaused it... and the city around them appears as it did so many months before. The gleaming jewel of the Midwest... polished, shining and full of hope.]
Comedian: I fixed it.
[Polar and Bonnie look to the Comedian in confusion.]
Bonnie: What do you mean, you fixed it?!
Comedian: Chicago ruined this team. I mean, the Syndicate ruined Chicago... and I fucked up sending you here. I helped Fausse and Wright and Sanchez wreck this town and they bailed on this mess, so I put it back the way it was. Because otherwise... you guys were NEVER getting out of the pit I shoved you into. You wasted months of your lives fighting nobodies when you've ignored the actual problems of this world... and what's worse, you've let this team become the one thing I never wanted it to become. You're the fucking Pantheon.
Phantasm: Hey!
Comedian: Fuck you, Bankston, you let me finish! I was part of the problem and now I'm being the solution. This is your one notice- if I ever catch you people acting like some regular fucking wrestling stable again I am *personally* shutting this team town with the kind of force you can only *imagine* I'm capable of.
Bonnie: Now wait just-
Comedian: YOU ARE THE GUARDIANS. FUCKING ACT LIKE IT.
[The Guardians have no response; anything they'd have to say, they'd just be arguing against the truth.]
Comedian: This world- this whole fucking universe- is completely fucked. I fixed this one little place in the world so you people could get the fuck out there and do what you were meant to do in the first place. Don't quit your day jobs... just don't forget that your night jobs are why you're here. You have important work to do, and it's not in a wrestling ring.
Bonnie: Hey, fuck you- I'm the IC Champ!
Phantasm: And we're gonna get the tag belts back-
Comedian: Great! When the fucking world ends, you'll go down as the greatest stable of all time in a company that is as non-existent as the rest of human life and all its fucking byproducts. You're in the wrong place, and you're months late for work... so get to it.
Bonnie: Where are we supposed to go?
Comedian: I don't know about you, but I'm going home.
[He pulls a jump-drive from his pocket, tossing it to the Phantasm.]
Comedian: Never forget that I love you. Both of you. Very much. I love this fucking team. And that's why I'm saving you. Bonnie- tell her hi for me, ok?
Bonnie: ...who? Who do you keep asking me to say "hi" to?
Comedian: If you ever meet her someday, you'll know.
[He turns to leave... Polar shouts one final question.]
Phantasm: What's on the drive?
[Without turning back, he responds...]
Comedian: Thought you two might wonder what happened to Sanchez.
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[Scene: Reading, PA. The video is obviously taken from a low quality security camera in an arena locker room... former Mayor of Chicago David Sanchez finds himself the meat in the worst sandwich imaginable. Seated to his left is a scraggly haired man wearing roughly eight title belts; seated to his right is obviously a man in drague.]
Logan: Heeey... you got your ticket?
K-Rod: Wanna hear the most annoying noise in the world? ENNNNNHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
[Sanchez hangs his head in shame.]
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MASTER OF REALITY
Written by the Polar Phantasm
[(c) United Championship Infinite 2016. All rights reserved.]
[Scene: the bedroom of the Unstable Elements. Here at Guardians HQ, now located in the tunnels beneath the Drunken Dragon in Little China, the Bankstons have made a comfortable home for themselves... though this would seem almost insulting to Cameron Bankston Jr. these days. He hasn't woken up feeling rested in weeks... and, weary as he is upon waking, he continues to find a massive amount of drama awaiting him each morning. Here we see him open his eyes, think for a few moments... blink awkwardly. Door opens; in comes Bonnie Blue, cup of coffee in hand. She hands the coffee to Polar, giving him a smile.]
Bonnie: Mornin', sunshine. So how do we handle the match this week?
[He sighs.]
Phantasm: Fuck, what day is this?
Bonnie: Cam, it's Thursday. How do you not already know what we're doing? That's... what you do.
Phantasm: I know. I know. Just give me a minute- god, my brain hurts.
Bonnie: Alright, well... get on that, 'cause we also have to figure out what to do with-
[He groans loudly with frustration.]
Phantasm: Jesus, Bonnie, give me a minute... I want to solve all of our problems, but I have to be able to solve one of them before I can solve the other however many things.
Bonnie: If you didn't want to have to deal with all of this, you shouldn't have decided to be the leader.
Phantasm: Ouch.
[There is a quiet moment. Bonnie isn't quite mad, but she isn't quite not mad; Cam is... crying?]
Bonnie: Cameron... oh shit, Cam...
Phantasm: I don't know what's wrong with me, Bonnie. I feel like I might be dying or something. I wake up feeling like I never slept... I try to remember yesterday and end up remembering two months ago. I don't know what's happening to me and I'm scared.
[Her countenance softens... she approaches slowly, not sure what to say.]
Comedian: It's not you- it's me.
[Bonnie and Polar turn to see a familiar sight... though looking a bit (ok, a lot) rough around the edges. The Comedian, creator of the Unstable Elements (and much of this universe, in fact) can barely stand up straight; he's dripping with sweat, his face is sunburned and his eyes are glazed over.]
Phantasm: Shit, what happened...?! You look like you've walked through a desert-
Comedian: Just a food desert... hour walk across the Seventh Ward to get to keys. Cam, Bonnie- I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I lost my powers somewhere.
[The Guardians look to one another... neither know particularly what to say to this, though there are many metaphysical questions this brings up.]
Comedian: It's taking all I've got just to hold this up. I just... fuck, I... I failed.
[The strange man collapses on the floor... as the pair rush to help him, he shouts in a pained mumble.]
Comedian: NO, DON'T-
[Bonnie recoils in time; Polar pulls back, but the Comedian reaches out to grab his arm.]
Comedian: She can't save us... not from ourself.
[And, with that, both men vanish in a huff of smoke. Bonnie Blue, despite all she's seen in her young but interesting life, seems dumbfounded by what just transpired. She stumbles a bit as she heads for the door; frantically, she looks around for anyone who could confirm she's not dreaming (or anything else, for that matter). As she enters the living area, she sees Alex Richards and Rebecca Thatch having a beverage (evidently now quite accustomed to Guardian life, Miss Thatch seems to be drinking from a high-heeled ladies' boot)... upon seeing them frozen in time, though, she realizes what has happened.]
Bonnie: God damnit. God damn you, Comedian... damn you to hell for making me need you. Bring us back Polar... a whole Polar.
[She huffs in worry.]
Bonnie: Please.
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[Scene: Antarctica, LA - boyhood home of Cameron Bankston. Well, it's a bit different here... Cam glances around, wondering why the wallpaper and the furniture is different. Once he sees the nostalgic haze on his creator's face, though... once he sees the tear form in his eye... that's when he makes a very large jump in logic.]
Phantasm: This is where it started, isn't it?
[Sniffling a bit, the Comedian nods very slightly. He reaches up and touches a doorframe as he walks beneath it; Polar notices that, there in the doorframe, is carved the word "ANTARCTICA".]
Phantasm: This is the door to- our room. Oh my god...
[Cam walks into a scene so different but so strikingly similar... there, in what was his bedroom (with a few obvious differences; he was never, ever this gothy) he notices five others... five men the spitting image of Lucien Hicks, Renegade Reporter/Detective/?. Five men who, instinctively, he knows share an identical but quite different name.]
Phantasm: Is this where you go when you disappear?
Comedian: No. This where the rest of me has gone as it's slowly been driven out of what's left of me... see that? That's our determination. He was the first to leave... motherfucker's aggravating when he doesn't have shit to do. Next to him, sitting on the edge of the bed staring longingly at that woman's photograph? That's love; he hung on the longest. Now all he's got to cling to is that picture. That's our vision- know how you can't see even one move ahead anymore instead of six or seven like usual? It's that fucker's fault- all he wants to do now is sleep. That one's wit, and he's probably the one we miss the most... fuck, man, what kinda Comedian can't come up with a line on the spot? And then... there's THIS FUCKER!
[Polar recoils a step or two as the other aspects stare in shock and trepidation... their final aspect, frustration, has come for them; none of them expected, however, that his strength would be greater than all of theirs combined by the time he'd come calling. None of them could even fathom, then, that he would pull a .38 Colt Detective Special and hold it at the forehead of knowledge.]
Phantasm: What the fuck, man, that's our brain! You can't-
Comedian: I CAN AND I FUCKING WILL! KNOWLEDGE, YOU ARE AS USELESS AS THE REST OF ME UNLESS YOU TELL ME- ALL OF ME- WHAT YOU THINK YOU HAVE FORGOTTEN. WHAT IS IT?! WHAT HAVE I FORGOTTEN THAT-
Knowledge (whispering): In the corporeal world, I am a comedian... in many, many others I am the master of reality. I build worlds. I create because most won't or can't. I am-
Comedian: Oh my fuck, how did I forget... that's why I've been so murderous and desperate. That's why you're dying... it's 'cause I'm a fucking idiot. Come on, Cam- I think we can still save your team.
Phantasm: My team?! What the-
Comedian: Guardian, reassemble.
[With a flash, all aspects are reunited... Cam notices as the Comedian surges with power. He seethes for a second, and then... reaching into his trenchcoat pocket, he pulls out a pack of Pall Mall cigarettes. He retrieves and lights one of them with what is obviously a degree of practice... he then calmly says one sentence.]
Comedian: My name is Brian Bonhagen, and I can do *anything*.
[With that, all becomes white... the Phantasm appears in the living quarters at Guardians HQ (a bit confused but otherwise intact) about three feet from a bewildered Bonnie Blue.]
Bonnie: Cam- what the hell just happened?
Phantasm: I- I think god got his mojo back.
[As if to punctuate Cameron's sentence, the pair hear a loud chime that seems to come from everywhere and nowhere at once.]
--------------------------------------------
[Scene: The Hague. We see what appears to be a library; rows of shelves lined with books surround a table and a few chairs, two of which are filled with members of Earth's first international metahuman peacekeeping organization. Seated before us, pouring through old tomes in search of clues, we see Philip Bacon (aka Quartz) and Jack Hampshire (aka Jack of Shadows)... two founding members of the Renaissance Men and two very in-tune fellows by any measure.]
Quartz: Jack- you got that book on the Magyars handy still?
Hampshire: It should be- blast, where'd I-
[...a loud chime echoes, seemingly from a great distance away... yet heard as clearly as if in the room with them.]
Hampshire: ...what fresh hell is this?
-------------------------------------
[Scene: New Orleans, Louisiana. We see a disheveled looking shotgun house turned small office... though its paint peels and its sun-baked roof needs reshingling, this office is perhaps the most important (yet barely known) entity in post-Wave NOLA. This is 439 S. Murat Street. This is the home of one Lucien Harold Hicks... and, more importantly, the Ouroboros Defense Agency. Alone in the front room of the office, Jackson Masters - known to his friends as Jax - sits at a desk rubbing his temples. A loud chime, seeming to echo from the heavens, snaps him out of his headache-management ritual... he blinks twice, as if something has suddenly disappeared.]
Jax: What the fuck? My headache's just... gone.
[The phone beside him rings... with a slight laugh, he answers.]
Jax: Ouroboros Defense Agency... *can* we help you?
[At the other end of the phone, the slightly panicked voice of Nikolette Kinsey - known to her friends as Nike - makes a very general-sounding but very specific-intended inquiry.]
Nike: Are you alright?
Jax: Yeah, Nike, I'm great. Hey, did you hear a-
Nike: I felt it... I felt everybody within two square blocks of me feel it, Jax. Something's different.
Jax: Hold up- lemme get Lucien. He musta gotten trashed with Alvin and them last night... hey, Lucien!
[He shouts to the rear of the house, expecting to hear perhaps an angry mumble. He hears nothing.]
Jax: Lucien, you alright man?!
[...a door opens... a man the spitting image of the Comedian emerges, determination plain as day on his face.]
Lucien: Tell Nike to get over here. We've got work to do.
Jax: What? Hey, you're-
Lucien: I'M ALIVE, JACKSON. I'm fucking alive. I haven't felt like this in eight fucking years, man.
Jax: ...like how? Like what?
Lucien: Like I can actually *save* this fucking town.
[He picks up his pipe from his desk... he puts it back on the desk, turning toward the door.]
Lucien: I'll celebrate when I'm done. Catch up if you can, ok?
[Before Jax can respond, Lucien opens his door... as it swings closed behind him, we watch as he leaps into the air... about two miles away, we see a cloud of dust emerge.]
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[Scene: an abandoned processing plant, somewhere in Western Nebraska. A loud unearthly chime distracts a frustrated-looking young bespectacled man in his attempts to build a twelve-foot tall robot out of Sega Dreamcasts... he stumbles, falling from a ladder and into a box filled with packing peanuts. His robot tumbles to pieces, its crash - somewhat ironically - sounds like a muffled "SEGA". This activates a voice-operated switch, which turns on a Genesis system across the room...]
Genesis: SEGA!
8-Bit: That blasted racket had to have been those shitsucking Guardians... oh, don't worry, Guardians... you'll be seeing me again very, very soon. You'll be seeing me... and Deathcast!
[He looks at his crumbled creation.]
8-Bit: Piece of shit- no wonder you asshats got donkeypunched by Sony.
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[Scene: the Rock of Ages. Amidst a room of hovering clocks, some with no hands (and some with more than twenty), we see a throne made of an aethereal substance... and a dark, scarred figure sitting upon it. The chime deafens the dark time god...]
Scathe(?): NO! You are supposed to die! YOU ARE SUPPOSED TO BE DEAD BY NOW!
[This 'man', obviously no mere mortal, is known to the Guardians by another name... a name that drives fear into the hearts of even the bravest of souls. A name that has such great power that - it is rumored, anyhow - it may even have power over the entity itself.]
Scathe(?): You who have led them to know too much... YOU DO NOT BELONG IN THIS REALM!
[With one last utterance, the very fabric of time reverberates like ripples in a pond...]
Scathe(?): TIMASTENZI COMMANDS THAT YOU. SHOULD. NOT. BE!
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[Scene: Andromeda Galaxy... Daran System. More specifically, the planet of Aja Darrik... and the throne room of Darrikaan Empress Sasha. As she is fanned by two purple-skinned chambermaids, the chime echoes loudly through her chamber... it shatters beautiful colored glass sculptures along the walls, leaving not a one intact.]
Sasha: Guards- defend your Empress, we are under attack!
[An emissary rushes into the room.]
Emissary: Mistress, it appears we have encountered a sonic phenomenon... it has likely come from space, your majesty.
[She snarls angrily.]
Sasha: Have the Imperial Astronomers find the source of this... 'sonic phenomenon'.
[She looks around at her messied throne room... under her breath, she mumbles through gritted teeth.]
Sasha: I would like to crush it.
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[Scene: the broken world of Last Bastion... more specifically, the headquarters of the Paradigm Industries Corporation. In the breakroom of the large corporate structure - an obvious standout amongst a backdrop of midevil castles and fortified city walls - we see two odd figures; one, a man made entirely out of corporeal shadow, eats a pudding cup. The other, an eight-foot tall minotaur, appears to be chowing down on a reuben sandwich. The loud chime echoes through the walls of the building, causing both to look up in confusion.]
Mikkel: ...Holy Siva, did Rynor fart again or what?
Expungus: Wasn't *that* loud... besides, you'd already see the cloud. That sounded interdimensional to this Phantasm.
[The shadow-man looks at his wristwatch.]
Mikkel: Think we got time after lunch to check it out?
[The minotaur shrugs.]
Expungus: If this is another realm with only two dimensions, though...
Mikkel: Right, right. You'll chop my head off.
Expungus: That's right. I'll chop your goddamn head off.
Mikkel: You are the worst best friend ever, Sponge.
[The minotaur shakes his head, trying not to laugh.]
Expungus: Please don't ever call me that again. You know I go by-
Mikkel: "Polar"? Dude, you're from Sonoirh Myrk. How the fuck you get a name like "Polar" living in the swamp?
[Expungus nods his head slightly, grunting something under his breath. His lunch companion finds he is unable to speak; in frustration, he chars three words into the table.]
"NOT COOL BRO"
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[Scene: Garfield Park, Chicago. What was once a crime-infested slum was turned into 'City Hollow'... and what was City Hollow has once again been turned into Garfield Park. The churches have no boards on the doors... the buildings show no sign of arson, the streets showing no sign of massive riots. We see the Comedian gazing at his craftwork... a large black man with knotty dreads, obviously homeless, approaches the Comedian. This shocks the Comedian briefly, as time in the city has been stopped... for all but those out of phase with this reality, of course. That would include one Miss Bonnie Blue... and one celestial being known to us on this world simply as 'the Viewmaster'.]
Viewmaster: Bonhagen... big fan, man.
Comedian: Really? You know who I am?
Viewmaster: I see everything. Your anal sex joke? About the Waffle House?
Comedian: Yeah, too many people tell me how much they like that joke... in public... when I'm on dates. Fucks the whole ice-breaking thing up, you know? Big fan of yours too, man-
[Viewmaster reacts as if to shush the Comedian.]
Comedian: -the whole thing where Mae Young gave birth to the hand was kinda weak, but-
[Viewmaster laughs, even as he tries to silence the Comedian.]
Viewmaster: Come on, man, I'm incognito here.
Comedian: They're all frozen, nobody can hear us. We're just two non-fictional guys fucking around in a fictional reality... what else you gonna do, right? Shoot the shit, bust some balls, remap a major metropolitan area... you know, whatevs.
Viewmaster: You're doing a great thing here today, man.
Comedian: What kinda Comedian would I be if I didn't show some love to the Second City?
Viewmaster: This place was hurtin'.
Comedian: All I'm doing is undoing the damage a bunch of shit-heels did before they cut out and ran off chasing belts to Pennsylvania. Any asshole can ruin the world. Shit, I'm a double asshole for helping them break it in the first place. They split... this one specific asshole gets to fix it.
Viewmaster: Careful... as the man said, "You want the position of God, then take the responsibility."
Comedian: ...you quotin' Chris Eccleston at me, 'Sexual Chocolate'?
[The Comedian laughs.]
Comedian: 'Cause if so, that makes my fuckin' day. Problem is, man... I ain't got much choice. It has become increasingly clear to me that I already *have* the responsibility.
[He looks at his cellphone, noticing he has eight texts awaiting him.]
Comedian: Oh, shit- the team! Later, man- don't tear any ligaments!
Viewmaster: Don't bomb on stage, brutha.
[And with that, the Comedian vanishes.]
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[Scene: South Wentworth Avenue, Little China. Bonnie Blue and the Polar Phantasm charge through the doors of the Drunken Dragon just in time to see two amazing things- the world around them begins moving once more, almost as if they'd unpaused it... and the city around them appears as it did so many months before. The gleaming jewel of the Midwest... polished, shining and full of hope.]
Comedian: I fixed it.
[Polar and Bonnie look to the Comedian in confusion.]
Bonnie: What do you mean, you fixed it?!
Comedian: Chicago ruined this team. I mean, the Syndicate ruined Chicago... and I fucked up sending you here. I helped Fausse and Wright and Sanchez wreck this town and they bailed on this mess, so I put it back the way it was. Because otherwise... you guys were NEVER getting out of the pit I shoved you into. You wasted months of your lives fighting nobodies when you've ignored the actual problems of this world... and what's worse, you've let this team become the one thing I never wanted it to become. You're the fucking Pantheon.
Phantasm: Hey!
Comedian: Fuck you, Bankston, you let me finish! I was part of the problem and now I'm being the solution. This is your one notice- if I ever catch you people acting like some regular fucking wrestling stable again I am *personally* shutting this team town with the kind of force you can only *imagine* I'm capable of.
Bonnie: Now wait just-
Comedian: YOU ARE THE GUARDIANS. FUCKING ACT LIKE IT.
[The Guardians have no response; anything they'd have to say, they'd just be arguing against the truth.]
Comedian: This world- this whole fucking universe- is completely fucked. I fixed this one little place in the world so you people could get the fuck out there and do what you were meant to do in the first place. Don't quit your day jobs... just don't forget that your night jobs are why you're here. You have important work to do, and it's not in a wrestling ring.
Bonnie: Hey, fuck you- I'm the IC Champ!
Phantasm: And we're gonna get the tag belts back-
Comedian: Great! When the fucking world ends, you'll go down as the greatest stable of all time in a company that is as non-existent as the rest of human life and all its fucking byproducts. You're in the wrong place, and you're months late for work... so get to it.
Bonnie: Where are we supposed to go?
Comedian: I don't know about you, but I'm going home.
[He pulls a jump-drive from his pocket, tossing it to the Phantasm.]
Comedian: Never forget that I love you. Both of you. Very much. I love this fucking team. And that's why I'm saving you. Bonnie- tell her hi for me, ok?
Bonnie: ...who? Who do you keep asking me to say "hi" to?
Comedian: If you ever meet her someday, you'll know.
[He turns to leave... Polar shouts one final question.]
Phantasm: What's on the drive?
[Without turning back, he responds...]
Comedian: Thought you two might wonder what happened to Sanchez.
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[Scene: Reading, PA. The video is obviously taken from a low quality security camera in an arena locker room... former Mayor of Chicago David Sanchez finds himself the meat in the worst sandwich imaginable. Seated to his left is a scraggly haired man wearing roughly eight title belts; seated to his right is obviously a man in drague.]
Logan: Heeey... you got your ticket?
K-Rod: Wanna hear the most annoying noise in the world? ENNNNNHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
[Sanchez hangs his head in shame.]
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MASTER OF REALITY
Written by the Polar Phantasm
[(c) United Championship Infinite 2016. All rights reserved.]
