E8 Flash #8

[jtisthekey]

The Multiverse Presents...

EARTH 8

ISSUE #8

Written by: Jollyoldsaint

Edited by: Gabriel Vargas

Multiverse logo created by : Tony Peterson

[jtisthekey]

The flagship of the IITYIHTKY organization held 112 officially deceased residents of the United States of America. Thaddeus Rage, the captain of this ship, considered each and every crewmember to be an extension of himself. Much to the crew’s dismay, however, Thaddeus Rage was a paranoid psychopath known to cut off any and all appendages which he no longer cared for. It was for this reason that an awkward silence spread through the mess hall following the words: "What do you mean, there's a flare in his eyes?!"

Ensign Rick Sloan, 24, kicked Ensign Ronnie Slim's sizeable shin. "Not so loud! But yeah, I'm positive. That's why Captain Rage is so..."

"Insane?" Ronnie offered.

Rick shrugged. "I was gonna say brain-damaged, but yeah. He's nuttier'n a sackfull o' nuts in New Nutsville, Nuttesee. Anyway... no one knows why, but he's been keeping those firecrackers in his skull for years. Heck, I can't even guess how they fit. Or why he'd want 'em there, for that matter. But I know they're in there. Remember last month, when smoke actually shot out of his ears?"

Ronnie choked on his lunch gruel at the thought. "Of course I remember," Ronnie eventually coughed out with the gruel. "How could I forget? He ordered us to fire the nukes and blow each other's heads off! But wasn't that his robot double? Or clone? Or something? Heh, I bet it was a skr-"

"The Admiral," Rick interrupted, "has some history with the Captain. He only said that to cover Rage's ass. I bet the cap was talked out of his tantrum while they fixed up his head…but think about it. He was rushed off to his private sick bay. How many cap'ns have one of those?"

Ronnie stared at his lunch gruel, wishing he had some other form of sustenance. "I dunno," he said after a moment. "Actually, I'm not sure if that's normal or not...this place pulled me outta debt, not some navy. But maybe he was thinking of the other recruits? He does curse a lot, especially after scraping through one of his suicide missions. And he never stops smoking...even though we're at sea and indoors. I can see how that wouldn't fly near the sick bay. But on the other hand, why the hell am I defending him? If anyone would put some rockets in his head, it'd be him. Still, I can't believe it's physically possible...even though we are hiding the cure for cancer..."

Rick looked around cautiously. Pulling in close, he mouthed several words Ronnie couldn't make out.

"Speak up, man," Ronnie requested.

After smacking the side of Ronnie Slim's head, Rick whispered in a slightly louder tone. "I think I'm his next Bobby Barnes."

Ronnie bit his lip.

"Yeah," said Rick, "he's been asking me about shippedos."

"Should I ask?" Ronnie asked.

"He thinks he can hollow out a torpedo, throw in an eject seat, and use it to reach land faster. Some jackass told him it was possible, so he's getting two ready as we speak. I just....damnit. Is he right behind me?"

Ronnie shook his head and pointed upwards. "Moni-screen."

Ted Rage's televised scowl loomed over the lunch hall ceiling. He somehow managed to keep a cigar in his mouth while coughing up smoke. "Listen up, crew," the appropriately dubbed Captain Rage began. "As you all know, we changed course at 2300 hours last night. Admiral Astral has since requested our ship's return to the main fleet. He has not, however, specified my return. As such, I will be leaving the flagship Nonexistahnt on a standard issue personal vendetta. Commander McGillicutty will be acting captain until my return. On an officially unrelated note, if Ensign Rick Sloan doesn't reach the bridge within five minutes he'll be executed."

Rick spat out his slop and ran towards the exit. "Poor guy," Ronnie muttered. "He won't last a week on the human witness/shield job....but a flare in the head? It can't possibly....hm. I wonder if he did do it."

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[jtisthekey]

Plunder kicked the large metal sphere blocking Central City traffic. Though his boot was armored, he felt a sting from the kick. "Where's the Folded Man," he muttered angrily, "when you need a can opener?!"

Major Disaster pulled a card from his deck and flung it at the spherical object. He stared at the point of impact for a moment, then shook his head. "Can't do a thing," he confirmed. "Still no read on the pod. Or that ship in the sky... couldn't even get an echo on the card. There's not a single chaos strand! I can't remember the last thing I saw like that..."

'Hmm," Plunder pondered. "I always thought it was odd, you know... you call them chaos strands, but you measure up cause-and-effect. Isn't that order? You know, physics and all that?"

Major Disaster glared at his ally in crime. "Order? Order?! I shorten life spans and break things, man! What in the hell does that have to do with order?! Why, back in 'Nam, I had to wear a blindfold for weeks...didn't help the second sight, mind you, but it was easier on the psyche. ‘Course, with the blindfold I couldn't tell the home boys from the commie rats...but I figure god sorted 'em once I was through."

Plunder held his hands up. "Right, right, sorry I asked. Some insane part of me wanted to make small talk. Rest assured, I won't try it again."

"Order vision," Major Disaster spat. "I could've crippled you with that card, you know..."

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[jtisthekey]

Crapcrapcrapcrapcrapcrapcrapcrapcrapdamnitcrap, Argus Kovak silently panicked. He clung to the wall of the newly grounded escape pod while breathing heavily. The faint metal clangs resonating from the walls did little to calm his nerves. Using his alien-acquired trait, Argus focused in on these sounds. By measuring the frequency of the sound waves, Argus judged the noises to be a thankfully minor disturbance.

Rocks, thought Argus. They were just rocks. A big one and a little one, eh? Probably just some kid messing around. Nothing to worry about, Kelly. KOVAK! YOUR NAME IS KOVAK! Right….stay focused. Lousy estranged mother, had to keep her own name…focus! This is not good, not good at all...it's broad daylight out there! Got a splitting headache just from looking out the window...where'd that Russian go? Aw, I was better off taking my chances with Roy...then again, he'd be trying to kill me. So maybe I'm better off here...but it's too bright to leave the pod! I'll have to wait it out...wait, no, that's a terrible idea. The government'll be here in a few hours to a few days! Or worse, IITYIHTKY! I've gotta leave somehow...damn, I should've brought my helmet! Hmm… maybe I should hit one of these buttons? No, random tapping might set off a trap. Like that time in Zanzibar. Wait, isn't that upside down?!

Argus sat on the ceiling of the escape pod while sorting through his dilemma.

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[jtisthekey]

Kid Trickster could not help but stare at the sight of a man's legs being eaten by snapping turtles. He looked away, however, after ten minutes of the man slowly dying in a pool of acid. When he heard a cackle from the Turtleman, the child almost fell over.

"Some days," said the kid, "you really creep me out."

The wheelchair-riding Turtleman whacked the boy with his cane. "This is....the best trap....I've....ever thought up. So shut...your pie-hole."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," the boy said while pulling a small laptop from his parachute pants. "It's Island of Gunmagik time. Some twerp called me out last night, I'm shoving my custom flaming gunsaw + 5 right up his tenth level...aw, crap."

Icicle smacked the boy on the back of the head before stepping off her slide of ice. Chillblaine grabbed the Turtleman's wheelchair and began pushing.

"Where's the Folded Tightwad?" Icicle asked.

"How should I know?!" Kid Trickster uselessly answered.

A white oval appeared at Icicle's side. Out of it stepped a man in what looked like a dark wetsuit. After brushing off said suit, the man bowed. "The Candyman’s factory," he spoke, "appeared lacking in the guard department. I had a look-see in the fourth dimension, but there wasn't anything to speak of. It’s strange…he’s been threatening us with his so-called Network for months. We should be up to our necks in trouble, but here we are. All things considered, I’d say this has gone FAR too smoothly."

Icicle smacked Kid Trickster again. She punched him when he gave a questioning look.

"Right," Icicle nodded. "Swell. Look, we've gotta get out of here! The Scot's trying that ice trick again!"

The Folded Man rolled his eyes. "Yes, I saw. I can’t believe you’d let him try that after the last time…"

Chillblaine continued to push the Turtleman away from the scene.

"Run now, talk later," Icicle urged.

"Don't have to tell me twice!" Kid Trickster shouted while running away.

"This wasn't as much entertainment as I'd hoped for," the Folded Man mused before stepping back inside the fourth dimension.

“Tell me about it,” Icicle grumbled.

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[jtisthekey]

Roy Bivolo grit his teeth as his sight returned. He was sitting on a pile of rocks. Damn, he thought. Still alive. Immer, in der tat! And I know this place....damnit, why here?! This is my problem, damnit! Don't bring that guy into this...or is it her they're after? Tch. No. Maybe it's a coincidence... riiiight. No choice, though. They’re my only way back…

Sitting up, Roy looked around. A large and broken bridge overhead confirmed his suspicions. He was on the edge of Keystone, next to the polluted river separating it from Central City. To his side was John Fox, faceflat between three large rocks. After seeing him Roy shut his eyes in frustration.

John pushed himself over. "Zoldinarios IV's hairy left tentacle," he gasped out. "I need medicalary treatment! Get me to a hospitarium, you cave-dwelling savage! While I'm still conscious!"

After a heavy sigh, Roy offered John an arm. Before Fox could grab it, however, Roy punched him in the nose.

John leapt up, shouted incoherent nonsense, and shook his fist at Roy. Bivolo merely tapped his head as John pulled back said fist.

"You're standing," Roy noted. As John looked to his legs in shock, Roy walked out from under the bridge.

"Molecular reconstitution," Bivolo explained. "It's one use of the photon slider. My hand’s healed too, see? That thing can remold the human body...which is why I destroyed it a long time ago. Tch! Seems Barry hid a spare. Build’s improved, the range goes far beyond his original…but who else would he trust with it? Who WAS that guy up there?"

"Who's Barry?" John asked. He was answered with silence.

Roy looked across the unusable bridge to Central City. Seeing an extremely large and metallic object crossing two dark holes in the sky, Roy raised an eyebrow.

John squinted in the direction Roy was looking. After finding a yellow insignia on the ship's side, John whistled. "That’s it, alright. Time-ship of the linear men, Argonaut class CLU-1K14G," he recited. "The rogue solar vessel, eh? You'd think something a little less grand would be the thing to ruin my life…and you’d think something powered by three miniature suns would be bigger."

Turning to John, Roy's eyebrow raised further. "You know what that thing is?" He asked.

"I was a watchmonkey at the museum of time," John responded. "The job's a legal precaution - I'm only there to shut down the guards if they turn rogue. So on some of my...*ahem*...breaks I read the displays. Most of them bored the living scringe out of me, but I found it funny how the nickname for that ship's model turned out as 'clock king.' Then again, 'clucking' doesn't have quite the same ring. But it'd still be better than most of the other things in that place…"

"Museum of time?" Roy asked. "Isn't that redun-oh, what do I care. I'm talking to a guy with a damned lightning bolt hovering over his chest."

"And I'm talking to a man from the silver age," John retorted. "Doesn't mean I'll punch you in the face for no reason!"

"Silver age?" Roy asked. "That one has me curious.."

"You savages still exchange silver, right?" John asked.

"Of course," Roy sighed. "But hasn't that age already been taken?"

"By who?" John asked.

"Doesn't matter," Roy answered while rubbing his forehead. "Let's just go - there's only one straight shot back to Central City. For anyone that isn’t an eccentric thief, anyway. We need to find the underground passage."

"Why should I go with you?" John asked.

"Because you owe me two walls and I'm the only one who won't call the police after seeing you in that getup."

John looked down at his suit. "Fair enough," he said after a moment. He then followed Roy as the man angrily trekked the coastline.

to be continued