The Attack of the Spaghetti-Faced Aliens From the Planet Zantros! Starring: Bart Allen, aka Impulse Cassie Sansmark, aka Wonder Girl And featuring the Martian Manhunter as the Emitter New York: Bryant Park Bryant Park is the largest privately maintained park in New York City. Located in a picturesque area behind the New York Public Library on 42nd Street and the Avenue of the Americas, Bryant Park is home to numerous public activites like the JVC Jazz Festival, HBO's Movies in the Park and many other free cultural events. The park is located next to a few private schools, that offer an education for the teenagers of Manhattan. The park itself has just recently been renovated, it contains several famous statues including the venerable statues of Goethe and Stein. One of the more beautiful parks in the city, the flowers, trees, bushes, and plants make a picturesque view, no matter what season it is. Decked out in his Pirate Corp$ gear - checkerboard Vans, porkpie hat and all - our young hero Bart Allen makes his way to the Mad Planets show over in the Village. Normally he'd just /be/ there, but ah, the price of showing off your insanely cool threads is actually taking the time to walk. He left early. And what a day to enjoy the sights. Though the sun's long set in the sky, the Park is well-enough lit with the frequent street-lamps, offering slightly monochrome views of the lush vegetation and the occasional statue amongst the grass expanses. It's within one of these fields that the the punk band 'Killer Gumbys' is taking down its stage after an evening performace, part of an ongoing series of concerts in the park. Or at least, the stage hands are tearing things down. Only the faded logo on the trailer gives any indication of the group; the audience and performers are all long gone, leaving the roadies to toil on by themselves. The young rudeboy-on-the-go pauses in his tracks, peering through the badly-lit bark at the side of the trailer. "Huh." He wrinkles his nose, momentarily debates doing anything . o O (What the heck're they doing over there? Looks like fun! Oh, wow, roadies! Kickass!) ...and zips over, apparently appearing out of nowhere. "Whatcha doin'? Can I help?" Even given that roadies are the type to see a lot - they do get around - it might seem strange that none of the dozen or so individuals really gives pause to the fact that this kid just, virtually pops up from nothingness. In fact, all but one of them go about their business, loading various crates and packages onto trailer. The other, affords the briefest of glances to the kid, a fairly deep voice muttering a single word. "No." Thus displaying the all of his sociable charm, he turns and moves back towards the staging area, to help another roadie with a large box. Another roadie.. who happens to look remarkably like he does. In fact... a lot of these roadies look alike. Even though there's like, twelve of them, there's really only three or four, you know? Either the Killer Gumbys are into hiring triplets for their dirty work, or something weird is afoot at the Circle K... Even as the young Impulse begins to notice these ...oddities, an older man dressed in rumpled clothing and a grey trenchoat lurks about in the shadows near the sidewalk, a fedora carefully hiding the features of his face as he looks on almost nevously. Pause. Watch, dumbfounded. "Well, /fine/," says Bart finally, and leans against a tree, still watching. The show can wait. These guys are /weird/, and weird generally means some kind of coolness is afoot. "What the hell am I doing here?" Bart asks himself quietly, as nothing continues to happen, and happen quite loudly. The thunderous silence. Stupid phrase. Then he glances at the sidewalk, frowning -- and his face brightens. "The Cigarette-Smoking Man!" No cancer sticks for this onlooker - but he does have the look of someone who certainly knows more about the situation than anyone else really should. And that information is perhaps taking its toll on the older fellow. He catches Bart's glance, and heedless of the youngster's shout, motions quickly for the boy to join him. Whatever it is that's going on, it's certainly got him jittery. And meanwhile.. the roadies, just keep on loading equipment. In fact, they're just about done now. Maybe ten, fifteen more minutes of work. Bart Allen grins! He 'appears' next to the XCSM, hands out in front of him to ask what's going on - that's the indication - and he does. Damn loud kid! "What? What's up? Are you a spy? What's going on? Do you know Mulder and Scully? Do I get to do cool stuff? Tell me!" "Shhh!! Quiet down before you get us both killed!" The man virtually hisses the words out, his blood shot eyes darting to and fro in fear and paranoia, making sure that the 'repeat roadies' aren't paying the unlikely twosome any undue attention. "This isn't a TV show, kid. This is real life..." His voice lowers another notch then, almost inaudible against the background crickets and rustling trees. "And those... are real aliens..." His head nods almost imperceptibly towards the roadies, an obvious trace of fear and nervousness in his voice. The way this guys acts and carries himself, it's like he's been living on nothing but expresso for the past five weeks; he's a mass of nerves and jitters. And that might also explain the fairly unsightly coffee stain that mars the front of his trenchcoat. The boy nods knowingly, lowering his voice. He peers around, then looks up at the guy. "I gotcha," he hisses. "Kinda like in Buckaroo Banzai, huh? Are they all named John?" He blinks, and straightens. "Ohmigod! The Martian Manhunter! I bet he's a John, too! Wait! He is! He's J'Onn! Ohmigod!" He looks around again, head blurring in an effort of paranoia and the absolute joy of playing spygames. Reaching out with a bony hand, the man tries to grab Bart's arm at the elbow, gripping hard if he can. "Aren't you listening to me..?!" he whispers out harshly again, wrinkles playing about his dry lips as he speaks. "This isn't Buckaroo Bonzai, or X-Files, or anything like that." He does his best to drive the issue home as best he can, obviously fearing that much is at stake. "These.. these *things*. They're real...! I've been following them for weeks. They don't think anyone knows about them... But /I/ do..." "Hey!" cries Bart, vibrating the guy's hand off his arm. "Watch it! For all you know, /I/ could be an alien!" He scowls, rubbing his shoulder and arm. "What're you going on about, old man? Get to the point. I have a show to get to and you're not making any /sense/!" Recoiling some as Bart shoves off his grip, the man narrows his grey eyes sternly. "If you were an alien," he begins slowly, but still with that tangible air of paranoia, "I'd be dead. They don't want anyone to know, you see... Not until they're ready for it." He glances up past the speedster's shoulder, watching as the roadies load up the last of their stage gear and equipment into the trailer. "But I've seen them, and I've learned..." His eyes snap back down to the youngster, voice whispering out in a rush. "Don't you want to know why they look alike? Or why they're the only band in this concert to use their /own/ separate stage?" Crossing his arms, scowl never lifting, the young teenager somehow exudes an aura of skepticism. "Maybe their parents got busy? And maybe the band's snotty, believes that other bands have cooties?" Then he grins. "Or maybe the lead singer's really Chicken Boo!" He starts laughing. "I bet you were their old manager or something and they fired you, and you're trying to spread bad press! Well, you're doing a really bad job! Who'd ever believe they were aliens? I mean, narcs from the Science Police, sure...but they look human enough to me!" Then he pauses, eyes narrowing. "But they /could/ be from Durla." As the roadies finish with their work, they lock up the trailer, about half of them moving to the fore of the craft, piling into a side door. The other six, however - three of the brown-haired mold, and three of the black - begin to walk in evenly matched strides towards the old man and his companion. The line they're in alternates from brown hair to black, making the approach look even odder. Glancing up just in time to see these guys start their trek, the old man's face pales visibly. "Heavens, no! They're on to us," he whispers, frantically. He whips his head around, searching desperately for an escape route - and even though the park is all but deserted, it's obvious that the man isn't in the best of physical shape. Any sort of physical pursuit would leave him easy prey. "Run, run while you still can!" A cursory glance, and Bart shakes his head. "You're weird, Cancer Man, but those guys are just a leeeeeeetle too freaky for me. C'mon." The young speedster-cum-rudeboy hurriedly lifts the old man and zips away. He deposits the old guy about seventy-five feet from the trailer on the opposite side, then goes back in a flash and makes like he's diving into the bushes. He rustles the leaves, then utters a muffled curse, then the leaves in another bush a few feet off shake - and so on. Yes, leave a trail so the guy can have time to explain...or so he'd do if he actually took the time to think about it. Instead, as soon as he lands in the first set of plants, he stays there so the 'aliens' can find him. When they get close, he jumps up, yelling, "ANARCHY IN THE UK!" Who knows. Maybe a couple will have heart attacks. Well, the man in the rumpled trenchcoat's in no position to argue his travel arrangements - nor would he really, if he were advised about them aforehand - but he's not, so he's understandably quite stunned when he finds himself quite far from the /other/ side of the trailer. As he's re-orienting himself and wondering just what happened, a loud 'ANARCHY IN THE UK' rings out proudly through the near-empty park. A shout which might startle any lesser antagonists. But not the sychronized stagehands. Staring blankly at the youth for a few heartbeats, before turning to glance at each other for another moment. Then, as if by some unseen command, each turns back in unison to stare evenly at Bart, withdrawing rather comical looking ray pistols from their pockets. Well, they /would/ be comical if they didn't have those menacing little red glowings ends on them. And if the roadies didn't all mumble out in unison. "We pity you, for you shall not know the grace of the Master. But you can't be allowed to interefere in His plans." Another meaningful pause, which lasts all of two seconds. "Who says I'm interfering?" asks the kid curiously. He stands up, brushes himself off, and grins like a little kid. "I asked you before if I could help, right? I meant it! Sounds like a heck of a lot of fun! And hey, do I get a ray-gun, too?" He starts zipping around like a hummingbird, flitting from clone to clone and checking their weapons out. "Neat! Hey, what's this 'explode' setting do? Let's find out?" He switches one guy's around, turns another guy's off, points another one at someone else, sets a couple to various stages of 'overload', and steals another, pointing it at the remaining guys. "CoooOOOoool! Just like Buck Rogers!" At these series of actions, the similar six are truly at a loss for both words and actions. Really - those who've had their weapons set to 'overload' manage to discard their weapons hastily, tossing them off into the grass, and the others have just about enough wits to gape at Bart dumfounded. But no one can really do much more than that just yet, as this is just one of those situations that they don't cover in the training manual. Meanwhile, off in the shadows behind the trailer, a certain older man goes almost ghostly pale. He clutches his chest as he watches Bart's shenanegans, fearing for the kid's safety, and even his life. He stumbles into a seated position on a nearby bench, catching his breath as he stares on in wide-eyed horror. "Oho, yes! Vic-tor-ee," yells the kid, waving his hat in the air. Then he looks at the Similar Six with a somewhat serious expression -- with a hint of glad insanity in his eyes. He waves the ray gun at them menacingly, automatically adopting the 'hero' stance, and raises his eyebrows. "Okay, guys, drop your weapons and do your villain thing. Y'know. Tell me your plans. Be as gloating and/or subservient as you want. You can even pull the 'INFIDEL' schtick if you want." Snapping back to as the challenge is made and the gauntled thrown down, so to speak, the closest 'clone' to Bart attempts to get in a fast drawn on the young speedster. Not that the poor villain knows any better, though that's really a minor consolation to the fact that he's trying to be speedier than someone who's got a personal relationship with the Speed Force. At any rate, he makes a pretty weird sounding grunt as he brings his arm up, finger pressing into the trigger even as gets a bead on the young boy. "Stupid, stupid, stupid," sighs Bart, shaking his head in disappointment. In a flurry of motion, talking all the while, the teenaged tornado starts beating the lackeys up. *whack* "Don't ya know..." *WHAM!* "...it ain't a good idea..." *THWACK* "...to try an' shoot..." *thunkthunkthunk* "...a boy who can outrun..." *KONK!* "...an ICBM?" Then he snickers, as the Vintage MTV Weekend suddenly occurs to him and he tries a breakdancing move on their lower appendages. Hands - ground. Feet - air. 78 RPM! "Oof!" "Ack!" "Ow!" "Hey!" "Gronk!" A chorus (albiet not a very pleasant one) of cries and shouts emanate from the hapless roadies as they're beaten to defeat in only a matter of seconds. They lay in a rather pathetic pile on the grass, moaning in pain as the young speedster humiliates them further with his breakdancing - but what's really odd, is that as they lay there, one might notice that their faces have become a little askew during the frackas. Noses out of place, eyes uneven,that sort of thing. It's really kind of unnerving and gross if you look at it for too long. Brushing himself off /again/ - new jacket's getting a lot of wear tonight - Bart makes a face. "Now, is someone gonna tell me what's going /on/?" The he pauses. "Hey...wait a second..." He leans forward, peering at their faces. "Either you all got really bad facelifts or somethin's up." The boy frowns, rushes over to get the XCSM, and brings him as quickly over to where the pile of roadies is. He gestures at them vaguely, looking at the old man. "What's the deal? In full!" Stuttering almost intelligibly - while this guy has apparently seen aliens and not been /too/ shaken by it, it's another think entirely to be whisked around the park in the blink of an eye - the old man has to take a few moments before he can formulate any coherent thoughts, also still quite amazed that the roadies are down and out for the count. "My god..." he stammers, "My god... you.. What did you do? You beat them!" He pales then, again - he's really pretty white about now - as he says this, new realizations coming to the fore. "Oh no! There'll be more though, there's always more!" And how true that is. For the other six, the ones that had piled into the trailer? Well, they're piling out again right about now, and they're not taking any chances. A sinister looking red energy blast sizzles through the air towards Bart and the old man. Instinctively, the young hero tackles the old man to the ground. "Hey!" he yells indignantly. "That was just...uncalled for!" he sputters. He scrambles to his feet, poking at the XCSM to get out of here, and pulls a Flying Ninja Masters From Planet Lar kick on 'em - taking a running leap, and thonking the first guy in the solar plexus. He then uses him as a moving stepstool, standing on his head and falling on a couple of the other guys, like unto a miniture tornado. His only problem is, it's a new bunch and they saw what happened to the others. And they probably have a better clue of what's going on. Better clue? Of course. But that doesn't mean that they're going to be in any better of a position to act on that knowledge. The first couple are taken down predictively easily, as they just lack the speed and reaction time to provide an effective counter attack. The remaining three huddle back towards the trailer, firing off a volley of laser blasts at the rampaging Impulse, red energy scorching the air. "For the glory of the Master!" "Grife!" yells Bart, a disgusted look on his face. "You guys sound like you're right outta an old Tom Baker Dr. Who! What're you, jonesing for a world to conquer?" He does his best to dodge the lances of light, making his way toward the three idiots. Then suddenly, he disappears. Where did he go? Oh no! Then, a clanging thud from above, and the aliens KNOW they're in trouble. El Bart-O yells out, "MOSH PIIIIT!" and roof-dives (wearing his ultranasty nasskicker Docs) onto the trio. "Argh!" "Ungh!" "Gack!" Sound familiar? The remaining three triplets crash to the ground under the slam-dance offense, heads banging and limbs flailing. Not unsurpisingly (in light of the other roadies) their faces as well become a little off-kilter, twisted about and generally messed up like you'd never expect to see. The moan gurgled curses, but lack the strength to mount a viable rebuke. As this battle winds down, the old man peeks from behind weathered fingers, his bloodshot eyes rapt with disbelief. He still lays on the ground, fearful to stand or take any other action at the moment. Are they really defeated? Bart stands in front of the alien roadies from Hell, breathing heavily, lone eyebrow raised. He looks over his shoulder at the non-CSM and simply asks, "Any more?" "Not here. Not right now," the man blurts out, scrabbling to a standing position, glancing around nervously at the defeated roadies about him. "But they'll come, if we don't leave... There's a whole colony of them, almost!" He bends down towards one of the villains on the ground near him, hand hovering over the roadie's neck. "Come over here," he whispers to Bart, almost consiratorially. "You should see what you're up against." The kid ers, and leans in closer to see what the old guy's doing to the alien guy. "What? He get bitten by a vampire or something?" He glances up at the other facially skewed roadies, and wrinkles his nose, then looks back at the first. "So show me. And what's this about a colony? Are you /sure/ these guys aren't all named John, and from the eighth dimension? I bet they are." Glancing up at Bart, the man's bloodshot eyes become a little more focused, his posture a little more self-assured. Yeah, maybe the kid he's talking to can zip around at Mach 23, but the ball's in /his/ court now. His tongue darts out to lick his dry lips, his voice coming out in a hoarse whisper. "If they're named John," he begins, "It's only because no one can pronoune their /real/ name. And they're not from the eighth dimnesion. The nearest I can figure.." And at this point, he pauses dramatically, reaching under the roadie's shirt to grab the skin of his neck, tugging and pulling until he just rips off the dude's entire face, off-center nose and all. And what's underneath - well, it's not pretty. It's like, some big ball of over-done spagetti with two black marbles where someone might have eyes. Really creepy, especially since all those little strands are kind of, wiggling about ontop of each other. The old man pauses just long enough for this visage to sink in, before he continues. "They're from the planet Zantros!" "EeeeeeEEEEEeeeeeeeEEEEWWwwwwwwwwWWWWw!" goes Bart, all staggering back, face turning green. "Cthulhu meets Italian food!" His features twist up, totally grossed out. I mean, I know it's not PC - but who're we kidding? You'd react the same way! He definitely steps back a few feet, after recovering from the stumble. Looking warily over his shoulders, peering nervously into the shadows, the kid decides that now's a good time to leave. "CSM," sez he, tapping said person on the shoulder, "Let's go?" Standing in a quick motion, the man turns to Bart, leveling his grey eyes to focus on the young boy. "My name's William. But you're right... We can't stay here long. We need to go to their headquarters, and destroy them before they can hunt us down..!" Seems that being able to take out a dozen of these spaghetti-headed freakos has gotten his adrenaline pumping again. Getting a look at the spaghetti-guy has done the opposite for Bart. Who knows, maybe they remind him too much of his late pet squid. He crosses his arms, scowling again, and taps his foot. "Look, you," he starts, brow furrowing even deeper. "I was on my way to a really great show, which I'm almost /sure/ is nearly over by now, and these monkeys burned HOLES in my new JACKET and HAT with their dumb lasers!" His arms drop, and his eyes narrow. "I /really/ /don't/ /feel/ like going to their sprockin' /HEADQUARTERS/ without you first telling me what the heck is going /ON/! So we are /going/ to the /diner/. OKAY?!" Staring at Bart for a long, long moment, William finally concedes, thought it's pretty obvious that he'd rather start right off to these guys' HQ, wherever that may be. He sighs exasperately, nodding once. "Fine. Fine! But first, I've got to take care of something." He then stoops over to grab one of the discared ray guns, and sets the weapon on maximum. Holding it with both hands, he begins to vaporize the spaghetti-headed roadies, before doing the same to their trailer. They all just glow red for a few seconds after being hit by the beam, before just disappearing in a plume of smoke. Bart Allen gapes. "You /killed/ them!" he bursts out after a second. After a moment of staring at where they were, he looks up at William again, eyes wide - and now scared. "You /killed/ them!" "And what do you think they'd have done to us? Invite us to an ice cream social?" William nearly spits the words out, his face twisting down in to a dour scowl. "This isn't a game, kid. I've told you that before. These.. things.. they're out to kill us all. There's no other way." He pockets the ray gun then, hiding it within the folds of his trenchcoat, before offering Bart the only other one that he didn't vaporize. "Take it." "No!" yells the boy, throwing his arms up in the air in exasperation. "/I/ /don't/ /kill/, okay? I'm not a killer! I don't care if /they/ are or not! If I kill one, I'm as bad as /they/ are!" He stands resolute, defiantly crossing his arms and sticking his chin out. "And listen here, if you're gonna go out and kill 'em, I ain't goin' with you. You can just go suck an egg." He stalks off into the darkness, straightening his jacket and tilting his hat. Blinking at the outburst, William just stands there a moment, dumbfounded. Finally, he finds his voice, and it rings out despreartely into the night air. "Wait..!" he cries, taking a few hurried steps towards the boy. "Wait... Those were just drones. Clones... Manufactured. They weren't /alive/..." He frowns deeply, stopping again, his expression lost and defeated. "You're my only hope," he continues. "You're the /world's/ only hope! You beat them.. without even thinking about it!" Bart stops, but doesn't turn. "Then," he says quietly to the night air, "will you /let/ me do my job? The way I know how? And promise not to kill any more?" He turns, a glimmer of...something...in his eye. "They were sure's hell alive. No drone can have that look of utter /stupidity/ when you're kicking its butt and it didn't expect it. So promise. Tie 'em up or something. Or set that damn thing of yours on stun. No more killing. Okay?" It hurts him to do this, it really does. Probably because of something that these aliens did to him in the past - but regardless, William nods once, a small word escaping his dry lips. "Okay.." With a heavy sigh, he takes the few steps to close the distance, holding both guns out to the boy, handle first. "Take these then. Destroy them. Or, whatever it is you 'do'. I won't kill these.. things. But you've got to help me stop them." Bart Allen pffts. "Stopping 'em's no problem." He takes both rayguns, looking at them in fascination. "Can I keep 'em when I'm done?" He hefts them to get a feel, then sets them both on 'stun', and starts of by firing one at a tree. It doesn't burst into flames, so hey - that's a good thing. Then he disappears for a second. Impulse skids to a halt in front of William. "Lead on, CSM!" "I.." William is about to respond, before Impulse blinks away. And then, blinks right back again. "I suppose you can," he finishes, frowning. He exhales again, taking off his hat to run a hand through his thin, greying hair. "You wanted to know the whole story then? I think we've got some time, before any more of them will find us." His hat is placed back on his head, as he turns to look at the young boy, the vigor that surfaced after the battle fading again. He doesn't even notice. Reading faces...it's not Impulse's thing, see? "Cool," he says. "I'm Impulse, by the way. Wanna tell me on the way there or rush now to a diner and take the time it'd take us to get there walking by having some dinner? Or breakfast? Or whatever you wanna call it - I dunno. I'm hungry. I could eat a house, I swear. I think I'll have an eight-decker sandwich and a milkshake. And a hamburger, and some fries. And maybe some ice cream, or some corned-beef hash. Or both! Hmm, corned-beef-hash ice cream. And some coffee, and Mountain Dew if they've got it there. Probably also a piece of pie." He sighs, and looks wistful. "Too bad there's not enough time for a full meal." Corned-beef-hash ice cream? And William had thought that he was tangling with some odd people /before/. Nonetheless, he seems to take the rambling in stride, only offering the boy the briefest of curious looks. "Impulse, eh? Well, a diner sounds good. I know of a good one on the corner of Seventh and Hall, Harry's. I'll pick up the tab." He slips his hands into his pockets, watching the boy with crinkle-cornered eyes, and prepares himself be whisked away again. Impulse peers sidelong at the old man. "You sure about that? Picking up the tab, I mean." "Listen," William replies back. "Just get us there and don't worry about it. I may not like the sound of ice cream hashbrowns, but I'm willing to pay for them." His thin lips turn into a quirky scowl, as he gestures out with his hand. "Just go easy on the turns, eh?" "Right," says the grinning young superhero. "How about /no/ turns?" Whisks away is right. I mean, wow, like, /wow/. Right? Sheesh, I mean, at least everything before was in the open air. This time, Bart makes a beeline for Harry's. A /beeline/. Through walls, through cars, through people, through red lights...you name it, they see the inside of it. Damn /skippy/ the kid is good. The kid may be good, but he's /used/ to that kind of travel. William, on the other hand, is not. Sure, he's faced spaghetti-headed aliens from the planet Zantros, but zipping through walls at superspeed is something else entirely. He'd been gaining his color back after the run-in with aliens, but alas, his weathered face is once again pale, eyes wide as he finds himself standing before Harry's Diner. "You.. didn't tell me you could walk through walls," he murmurs, reaching out to steady himself on the building's wall. "What do you do, vibrate through them at super speed or something?" Well, at least he's quick on the uptake. He pulls the door open, motioning you inside the retro-50's diner. Impulse walks through the door, nodding in response. "Yeah. Y'know. Move so fast your're out of phase with the stationary molecules. And stuff." He casts about for a location, blinking slightly in the light. "You got a regular booth?" The lighting inside the Diner is a little bright, showcasing the dirty tile floor and the slightly banged-up chrome finish on the counters and stools. A single waitress in a stained pink uniform mans the restaurant, giving a brief nod to the unlikely pair as they enter, before adding a "Heya Will. I'll get ya regulah, comminup. Anything for the kid?" William himself just shuffles to a booth in the back, motioning to Impulse as he walks. "Give her your schpiel, kid." Oddly enough, the diner's otherwise empty, though it is getting rather late into the night. "I'll have an eight-decker everything-on-it sandwich and a milkshake. And a hamburger, and some fries. And maybe some ice cream, and some corned-beef hash. And some coffee, and Mountain Dew if you've got it here. And a piece of lemon pie." He grins. "That okay?" The waitress just stands there, giving Bart the most dead-eyed look. It almost audibly says, 'you were sent here just make this evening hell on me, weren't you?'. But the only sound that really sounds out over the small diner is the small buzzing from the light overhead, and the waitress interrupts that when she finally does speak. "Yeah, whatevuh." She turns about to jot down a list on a piece of paper, handing it back through a window to the recesses of the kitchen. Meanwhile, William slumps down into his seat, crossing his arms before him on the formica-topped table. His fedora and trenchcoat show off their many wrinkles, rumples and stains easily in the bright light, looking in a rather sad state of disrepair. Looks like he's been wearing this outfit for a week straight, or more. Impulse offers, "Take your time?" After handing off the order, the waiterss goes about sloshing two cups full of coffee, walking them over to William's booth. She just gives Bart another even stare, but declines answering him directly. Instead, her words are directed to the older man, as she sets the mugs down with a pair of clinks. "Here's your Joe. Rest is comminup." And then she turns to head back into the kitchen to help the cook. The kid shrugs, and settles back. He blinks at the coffee, pours about half the sugar container into it, stirs it with his forefinger, and...and it's gone. He drank it, yep. Bart settles back again, and idly begins constructing one of his Diner Devices. "So gimme the downlow." Taking a much more deliberate approach to his coffee consumption, William just takes a small sip from his mug, keeping it black. "It all begain about three weeks ago," he starts out, setting the mug back down onto its saucer. His eyes start to get a little bit of a wistful look, though their expression is more haunted than anything. He stares down into the reflective surface of his coffee, and begins to recount the tale. "I'm a scientist you see. Or I used to be. I and my son... Were working on a project, with ramifactions that were completely beyond what we had ever considered. We'd found a new principle of quantum physics, something that could render both the boundaries of time and space... into nothing!" As he speaks, a sort of dream-image begins to form behind William, his head floating about infront of it as the images he speaks of play out like a movie, or a slide show. Really, it happens that way. Honest. Peering at the old guy and the image behind his head, Bart frowns slightly. As the guy talks, he shuts his eyes and concentrates, and a white cloud-shaped bubble appears above his head. Inside the bubble's a picture of Jay, with a chalkboard next to him containing diagrams that show life is not a cartoon or a videogame. A big red 'no' symbol appears over the picture, and Bart grins. Then he blinks, and it all disappears. "So basically, you built a machine that could propel you across the eighth dimension, and when you got back, you sound out that the Johns followed you. Are you in a band?" Breaking out his reverie, William glares over at Bart. "No! No, that's not it at all! Just.. be quiet and listen. I'm not finished yet..." He takes another drink from his coffee, a healthier one this time, before continuing. "*I* didn't go anywhere at all. It was them.. who came here. Or, something of theirs. We didn't know /what/ it was. But they followed it, before we even knew what had happened." His face turns into guilt and disgust, the blame he has for himself coming to the fore. Impulse okayse, okay! "I'm listening, sheesh!" He looks slightly discomfited, and squirms in his chair. "When's the food gonna be ready?" As if on cue, the surly waitress appears with the said entrees, setting a single plate with a ham and cheese sandwhich before William, and then unloading Bart's buffet - the foot-tall eight decker sandwich (everything on it), chocolate milkshake, hamburger, side of fries, dish of ice-cream and another side of corned-beef hash, and a slice of lemon pie and a Mountain Dew. Plus another cup of coffee. She gives Bart an evil stare, before stalking off back towards the kitchen again. William seems to not notice the exchange though, starting right back into this story as soon as the waitress is out of earshot. "They came in, took us by surprise. We tried to stop them... we did everything we good. But... My son." He pauses, jaw tightening. "They killed my son. And all the time, they kept telling us, about how they were going to conquer our world in the name of their God-forsaken 'Master'...!" Before the waitress disappears into the kitchen, Bart quick gives her a hug like a little kid. "Thank you!" he says happily. "I haven't eaten in /hours/!" He plops back down at his seat, and before he responds to William, he makes sure at least /half/ the food is gone. Then, he sits back, looking thoughtful. "I'm sorry," he says finally, "about your son. And I can see why you'd want to kill them. And I can see how useless blathering like that at a time like that can get really damn irritating. And yes, I will help you. But I /do/ have a duty to protect lives, no matter whose...which means making sure they stop. But aren't killed. Like I said." He pauses, disappearing a couple more plates and his milkshake. "And it might be a good idea if we got in touch with this 'master'." "That's just it," William says, as he looks back to you. "I think the thing, that we brought back... I think it /is/ their master!" He shakes his head, finally taking a bite of his sandwhich, giving it a few cursory chews before swallowing. "I don't know, but that's all that I can figure out. It's not even a person, it's just some.. disgusting *thing!*. But they're mutating it, getting it ready. But for what... I don't know. And in the meantime, they've been insinuating themselves into our world." "Huh," says Impulse, polishing off the rest of his food. "Hmn. Well. They're doing a sucky job. The Killer Gumbys are a horrible band. And hey, Superboy and I fought Cthulhu once, and Starman and I defeated a giant radioactive pizza and a disgusting mutated killer squid - all at once - so I should be fine. Can you open up the portal thingie again so we can send it back?" His hope growing as he hears of the boy's previous successes - and the namedropping of Superboy - William nods once. "I might be able to, yes... But I'd need to use the equipment in my lab. I can't, because they've taken it all over. It's swarming with them." He frowns deeply, finishing off his sandwhich in another few bites, settling back in his booth seat. "If you could... I don't know. Clear them out. Something.. Then I could reactivate the trans-quantum field, and.. send their 'master' back. I hope..." "Works for me," says Bart, shrugging non-committally. He holds his damn-near empty cup of coffee above his mouth, waiting for the last syrupy, sugar-laden drops to fall out. Then he blinks, lowering the cup. A wide smirk - one that just screams out 'Lordamighty, look out cuz he has an IDEA..!' - plasters itself across his face. Then, not losing the frightening smile, "Gotta make a side trip. Mind much? Three and a half seconds." Glancing across the table, William raises an eyebrow curiously, though at this point he needs Impulses help enough that he really can't refuse the kid much. "Sure... Just, lemme get the bill first." And at those words, he musters up a grimace, knowing the damage will be great indeed. Pushing away from the table, he heads over to the cash-register, rifling about in his wallet as the waitress rings up his order. Taking this absolutely prime moment to accomplish his side mission, Impulse hightails it out of the diner and to Keystone City. He's there in a flash, of course, and since he only gave himself three and a half seconds, he really can't explain a lot to the young Wonder Girl until they're actually on their way. (Then, of course, as he /runs/, he can explain, and it /still/ will only take a second or so. Speedster Physics 101.) This, though...this'll probably take more than three seconds. A good deal more. Maybe a whole minute. Bart zips around inside the Flash museum, looking to see if they're still there. When he doesn't find them, he goes home and stands in the foyer. "CAAAAAASSSSIEEEEEEEEEEE!" Making her way out of the kitchen, Cassie's eyebrows shoot straight upwards, an apple in one hand, a squirming puppy bouncing at her feet.. her eyes snap towards the yelling boy in the foyer. "Uhm, yeah Bart..?" She inquires, skeptically watching him closely, her mouth sweeping into an impish grin. "Oh MAN you should have seen the Musuem it was just beyond beyond cool." "Seen it," says Bart shortly, stepping forward. He hands you a Buck Rogers-looking gun with a lot of red and yellow and spiffy decoesque designs on it -- and a nasty-looking red pointed crystal at the end. "Here. I need Wonder Girl. Coming?" Quirking her eyebrows straight upwards, Cassie collects the gun. "Oh wow, cool.. do I have time to change?" She asks, sandwich forgotten, or at least, devourd within two quick bites and a gulp. She begins to head up towards her guest room, slower than molassis for a speedster. The young speedster lets out a frustrated "Gah! No!" He blurs up the stairs and is in front of Cassie again, holding out her vest and her goggles and her wig. "Here! Don't care if you're wearing your Superman t-shirt, we have /zero/ time! We're late as it is. Put the other stuff on on the way and you can be Kid Superchick or something!" In a mighty sweep, Impulse catches Cassie up, and they're off. She doesn't even have time to get out a 'Whoa!', before Cassie's caught up, and sped towards the location. Gun, wig, vest and goggles are still clutched between her fingers, held close to her chest. Meanwhile, back at Harry's Diner, William is just counting out the last pennies of his bill, pushing them across the counter, and then folding up his wallet to replace it in his pocket. "Sorry about the kid, Bea. But you wouldn't believe me if I told you." The waitress just gives the man a flat look, before shaking her head slightly, counting out the money as she sorts it into the register. "Didn't ask, did I Will?" And in a matter of seconds, they're back at the diner in New York. Bart sets Cassie down outside so she can put her stuff on, and he says in a low voice, "Inside when you're ready." He goes in and leans by the doorway. "Okay, which way, Non-Cancer-Man?" Casting her gaze nervously around from one direction to the next, before Cassie plops down the wig, covers her eyes with the goggles, and jogs quickly into place behind Bart. Her eyes sweep from the boy, to the one he speaks of, casting her eyes over the man in a youthful, albet curios manor. Held between her thumb and index finger is a true ray gun, with even a crystal set on the outside. Turning towards the door, William draws his hand back out of his pocket, attempting to straighten out his wrinkled and rumpled trenchcoat. "North," he says simply. "Upstate. That's where my lab is... Near the town of Dinsdale." He strides towards Impulse then, readjusting his fedora. "Mind if I ask what you needed to take care of?" Impulse cocks a thumb behind him, indicating Cassie. "My partner," he says matter-of-factly. "And the muscle in the operation. William, meet Wonder Girl." He turns to his friend and says, eyebrows up, "Make sure it's set on stun. We're going spaghettiface hunting." Obeying Impulse, and trying to look impressive in the mean time, Cassie shifts the weapon around in her hand, placing the ray gun from kill, to stun. A wide grin of youth is offered to William, as the teenager finally shifts her gaze to smile at him. "Pleased to meet you." Levelling his gaze on the new arrival, William takes only a moment to respond, his voice fairly gruff. "You might not be, if you knew what you were up against. As I told your friend here," he motions briefly to Bart. "This isn't a game. These creeps play for keeps." Bart crosses his arms, face tightening. "Look. I'm taking you seriously, okay? So give us a /little/ credit. And don't try to scare us. There's no way we won't kick their butts." The confidence in his voice is almost palpable, as is the irritation. "You want Cassie to fly you there, or you wanna go the express route again?" Eying the youth a bit dubiously, William finally answers, "It doesn't really matter. I suppose the 'express' route will be quicker." He pauses then, before adding. "We should try to sneak up on them when we get there though. I have no idea how many of them might be there now... rushing in without surveying the scene might not be a good idea..." Filled with a youthful air of confidence, Cassie stands back, trying to figure out just what is going on, and how she can help. Defeating bad guys is always fun.. comes her quiet thought, though she shifts her stanse from one foot to the other, gazing from Bart to the old guy. "Want I should fly around and check it out?" Actually, she pauses in saying that, placing the ray gun into her other hand. Glancing back into the diner, William nods breifly, before stepping out fully into the street. "Not a bad idea. But..." He glances around again, frowning slightly. "We should be moving. I don't know how well they can track us.. But we shouldn't stay in anyone place too long." His eyes narrow, as he brings his wiry hands up to wring themselves a few times. "As long as you stay hidden. They have rayguns, too, and theirs aren't set for stun." Impulse sighs slightly, then shakes his head and sticks out his chin. "Yeah. Yeah. And as soon as you gimme the okay, we'll rush 'em. They'll never see it coming." This leadership type plan-making thingie is weird for Bart, it's unnatural. But after Columbia U...plans have their value. "And remember. No one needs to die. Okay. We're off. Cass, I'll pace but I still have to go pretty fast, otherwise XCSM'll be too heavy." He takes off, hastily snatching the old guy off the street. She can't even see the blur, as Cassie lets out a "WAIT BA.." Only to quickly dart out the door, the ground disappearing from her feet as she turns to zoom off in the last direction she thought she saw Bart go. Pushing herself to the max, which is, hey fun for a teenage super heroine, Cassie's quick to set the pace, hoping Bart wont get too over whelmed by the big guy's weight. Quickly become used to the 'Impulse express', William just manages to grab his hat before he's grabbed and whisked off in a blur, gritting his teeth and squinting his eyes as the scenery zips past at unreal speeds. He tries to make a gesture to aid with directions, but ultimately resigns himself to just sitting back and... well, trying to enjoy the ride. They get there, and, well, they're missing a person. "Cassie," hisses Bart. "Cassie! Grife..." He leans against the wall, closing his eyes and thinking of where she could have gotten lost. With a glance at the area, Bart looks to the old man and says quietly, "I'll be right back." And he's off; he'll likely find his friend in a matter of moments. Hovering over the ground, only a few miles away from the restuarant, Cassie waits, her arms crossed over her chest, eyes scanning in all directions. . o O(Come on Bart.. you know there isn't any way I could match your speed.) Her foot taps in mid air, waiting .. though she does take the time to adjust her wig.. maybe. Deposited not unlike a sack of potatos, William glances off at where the blur known as Impulse last was, before shaking his head. With a heavy sigh, he turns to look in the other direction, down the valley where an unsuspecting building sits, a few lights winkling in the windows. Impulse skids to a hald directly beneath Cassie, and looks up. "Coming, oh partner mine?" Lowering herself down, Cassie's mouth twists into a grin. "Ready when you are, pard'." She gets out, waiting to be scooped up and once again deposited in another direction, she -too- is use to the sudden starts and stops that come with being friends with the wild haired speedster. "Geez, if I charged I'd make more than the whole department of transportation," mutters the kid, whisking Cassie to the building. "Enough's enough. *mutter, mutter*" So there they all are, against the side of the building with the fearsome spaghetti-faced aliens from Zantros inside, and their Lovecraftian 'master'. "Give it a look, willya, WG?" Just as Bart and Cassie return, lightning cracks once in the dark night sky, a near-deafenign *BOOOM!* of thunder accompanying the bright flash. As the heavens rumble, drops of rain begin to cascade down to earth, their frequency growing ever greater... With her wig slightly askew due to the sudden motion of being deposited to the ground, Cassie straightens it with a slight tug, and nearly jumps into Bart's arm at the clap of thunder.. With a slight grumble herself, the ground once again disappears from beneath her feet, as the /new/ Wonder Girl (who happens to be wearing Superman's t-shirt, go fig..) flies into the air. Ah what terrors will she see as she nears the house, her form moving quickly around, flying towards one of the taller windows. What horrors shall she bare witness too as she flies around the house, keeping just far enough away to attempt to not be spotted, and yet close enough to get a look.. The rain is a nuisance, drenching her wig, and creating fog to her goggles. Impulse starts getting antsy, hopping from foot to foot while Cassie cases the joint. He gives the sky an evil look, half-heartedly complains about the rain, glances at the old guy to see what he's doing, and wonders when he gets to eat again. Ben & Jerry's sounds really good. He starts fiddling with his ray gun, shielding it from the rain in case moisture does bad things to its innards, and accidentally puts a hole in the sidewalk. He sheepishly sets it back the way it was, on stun. Pulling his coat over himself as the rain starts up, William hunkers down under his hat as well, letting out a string of none-too-pleasant curses. His gaze darts over to Impulse as the ray-gun goes off, his voice hissing out. "Stop that! You want them to know we're here??" The building itself is rather innocuous - it could be any other ranch-style home in the wilderness. A few lights are on inside though, giving anyone who would look a closer view of what really lays within. And what does the house hold in it's walls? People. Many, many people - milling about it seems. Just standing there, around the kitchen table, in the living room. But a larger group of them can be seen standing in front of a stair case, leading down to the basement. And each one of these individuals - to tell the truth, is not really a /person/ at all. They're person-shaped. But a closer view, reveals them to be made of something that looks not unlike over-cooked spaghetti. And each of the strands.. they move, and wriggle about atop one another, continuously. Where eyes should be, are set two black-looking marbles, rotating themselves in random motions. As the sneaky, sniffling, slightly drenched, super-heroine hovers upside down, her goggled covered azure eyes gazing curiously inside, just enough to gaze into the room beyond, her hair bounces down, though holds in place by the snap of the goggles. At the revolting sight inside, her mouth curves into a disgusted snarl, lips forming a quiet.. "OH GROSS." Her hand slaps quickly over her lips, form shooting straight up, disappearing from view of the window. Grinning sheepishly, Impulse shrugs again at the old man, and mouths the words, "Trust me." What is the sound of one hand clapping? It is the sound of a facepalm - and this one's pretty quiet. Bart's hand drags down his face slowly as tries valiantly not to giggle at Cassie's reaction. At least hers was quieter than his had been. He glances upward at his partner, and motions for her to come down. Trust... riiiight. The reaction is easily seen on William's less-than-supportive face. But, he's come this far with the teen duo, who else can he turn to now? He doesn't seem to find as much humour in Cassie's reaction to the aliens as Bart does, but rather sets his jaw, whispering quietly as the girl makes her way back. "Pretty damn disgusting, aren't they? The lab's in the basement, and that's where my equipment is. So, you two will need to clear a path for me." With a whispered hush of words, that spill out from the disgusted teenager, Cassie blurts out, "They're the most disgusting creatures I"ve ever seen before in my life. They're gross!!" She hisses the words out, casting her eyes towards the house then back to the two. "There are tons of them inside, lots around the kitchen table, no doubt planning on oozing themselves into a frying pan.." Her nose wrinkles upwards, "And about .." She states however many are in the house, or at least how many Cassie saw, and their locations.. Before she states with a snarl. "Lets go send them to pasta heaven." Her ray gun is tightly held between her fingers, casting her eyes from one to the next. The boy's eyebrows shoot straight up, and his eyes widen. "Cass. Stun. And you can kick ass if you want, or whatever. But we're sending these guys whimpering home to mama, okay? Not in pieces. They're /alive/, no matter what they look like." No more stabbing squid with forks. "Okay - let's show these leftovers what happens when they cross the NBYT!" He zips inside, yelling like a madman - or at least a kid at his first punk show. "The NBYT...?" William is left to whisper confused, a single hand outstreched in question as Impulse speeds away into the house of unsuspecting spaghetti-faced aliens. With a glance at William, Cassie shrugs her shoulders, "Stun it is." Though her ray gun never really was set to anything but. "You stay here until its safe and clear, sir." She begins, turning to fly toward the house, already several seconds behind the speeding Impulse. Her chin sets, action, finally! She ponders making a 'grand' entrance, smashing fists into window, while shooting aliens with her ray gun.. but instead opts to make sure she knows where Bart's at before she does anything irrational.. Thus she flies towards the house, gun raised, and body ready to smash pasta. Inside the house, a series of rather... squishy sounds, emanates as the visitors from Zantros are attacked with fervor. *Splorp!* *Thlap!* *Squish!* Zantros bodies that look remarkably like Italian food are slammed up against walls, trodden under foot and thrown through the air with an accompanying chorus of "Oof!"s and "Arrgh!"s. Well... so much for the vigilance of those on guard duty. But, at least the aliens in the next room are a little quicker on the uptake, whipping out guns of their own to fire off a volley at the young heroes. And it's a sure bet that the angry red blasts, aren't set only on stun. Clenching his fist and shaking it in vicarious determination, William follows closely after the two, jaw set and eyes vivid as he watches the battle ensue. "Don't stop till you've got them all!" he cries out from the doorway. It's like an old Batman show - you can almost /see/ the onomatopoeia in the air. Lots of squishy sound effects, too. Y'know, from the spaghetti and all. Bart ends up with what looks like green vegetarian spaghetti sauce all over his hands, and he wrinkles his nose. "Grife. Slime. ALl I need. I'll never be able to get it out. Face my wrath, alien scum!" He ducks and dodges, every once in a while firing the stun gun at someone who gets too close to Cassie, and making like a whirlwind punching machine at the guys too close to him. It's going to be over in a matter of seconds. *Splosh* "YUCK!" *Thunk* "EWWW!" *Smack* "UGH! GET IT OFF GET IT OFF!" Comes out of Cassie, as she conducts her own rough housing. Her fist shaking off one of the disgusting squirming aliens that has managed to get implanted on her fist. The power house of the duo manages to dart inside the house, she can't even see Bart at this point, though the growing number of aliens around him points to the fact he's taking care of more bad guys than her. Diving in front of a book cabnet, just like a real 'Action Hero', Cassie raises her gun and sends off a couple rounds at the aliens in the kitchen. Which only manages to take down zero, as her shots are wide and basically couldn't hit the side of a large barn. Regardless of Cassie's less-than-perfect aim, Impulse's predictions of the battle are mostly correct. In but a few moments, the main floor of the building is cleared, with a number of prone spaghetti-bodies littering the floors. The door to the basement slams closed hard, though, as the remaining aliens dash downwards to hopeful safety, calling out as they leave, "You'll never defeat us all, meddlers!" The voice is... well, kind of gurgly and wet-sounding. Just as this challenge is laid down, William dashes fully into the house, head jerking about as he surveys the damage. "We've got to get down there!" he implores. "With all my equipment, there's no telling what they'll be able to do!" "Okayokayokay," yells Bart, and tugs at Cassie. He looks wildly back at William. "Follow!" He tugs at Cassie again, trying to get her to follow him, gah, yes, come ON, and he nearly falls down the stairs in his haste. He goes right through the door. Who knows what evil lurks on the other side? Being tugged behind Bart, Cassie nearly smashes her face into the door as Bart goes directly through it. With a grunt, the girl that was granted powers by the All Mighty Zeus gives a firm *yank* on the door, and it comes open.. In fact, it comes apart from the hinges. With a shrug, Cassie just tosses it to one side and dashes down the stairs head strong and without a care to the world. The stairway is dark.. the basement, silent. Silent, save for a continuous humming, a sort of low-level buzzing, like the white-noise of a computer system, or an electrical generator. The soft light shed by the open doorway sheds only enough illumination to reach the bottom of the concrete stairs, but doesn't penetrate the darkness beyond. The air itself seems to crackle a little, with some kind of energy as well, causing those people who are tuned in to those sort of things, have their hair raise up on the backs of their necks. No, it's not really the Twilight Zone, but it might as well be. Motioning a couple times with his hands at the backs of the young heroes, William finally hisses out a whisper, trying to catch their attention without tipping his hand to the aliens. "Left," he says under his breath, "Go left, that's where the machine is." "Go left, young man?" whispers Bart, a half-grin on his face. He's stopped in the middle of the darkness, straining his eyes to get his bearings. He goes to his immediate left, and smacks face first into a wall. "Ow." He pauses, and shakes his head, rubbing his nose. "Left." Its dark, the humming is loud, and the area is freaky as hell, Cassie loves every minute of it. Unlike Bart, she actually turns left, her form sneaking towards the area, creep.. *creep* she slowly makes her way down, goggled covered eyes staring wearily ahead. Without warning, the lights in the room flash on with almost blinding intensity, flooding the room with brightness. As ones eyes adjust to the light, the rough perimeters of the obvious lab can be seen, with main frame computers and odd-looking machines with tubes and transistors and exposed wires tyed from cabinet to cabinet, some of them visibly arcing electricity from one to the other. What's most impressive in the room, however, is the blurry edged circle hovering almost in the center of the basement, showing a bluish-green vista that looks almost underwater. Around this apparent portal are stationed a legion of spaghetti-like aliens, each with a ray-gun in its ever-squirming hand. And in the middle of them all, stands an actual man, immersed to the knees in a pile of green, viscuous material that seems to be a variant on the alien's physiology. He's covered in the stuff as well, looking like he's been attacked with silly-string, and his face is covered with a sinister, though somewhat vacant, grin. Behind Impulse and Cassie, a quiet gasp is heard, a horrified whisper breaking the silence. "David...!" Standing in shock as the lights catch him like a deer in front of a car, Impulse just kind of stops. "Umn." He looks back at the Non-CSM. "I'm guessing that's your son?" He kinda stares at the aliens, too, and wrinkles his nose. He's really not sure how to react. I mean, he really /isn't/ sure. There's just...well, wow. Y'know? Aliens. With this guy's son. "YUCKO!" Comes Cassie's first response as her eyes adjust to the bright lights that suddenly flicker on. "That is just disgusting!" Her nose wrinkles upwards, hands flinging outwards as she waves her ray gun in the general direction of the aliens. She has basically no idea what to do, and frankly isn't really worried about her life, or the chance of losing it. You know, that cocky the world can't hurt me attitude. "My son.." William whispers, tortured, half in answer to Impulse, and half as a plea to the man infront of the portal. "David.. What have they done to you? My god..." He reaches out a hand, as it to offer help, a link back to being human, to salvation. But that offer is summarily rejected. The being, David as he apparently was known, just laughs, his voice coming out in that slimy, gurgly tone of the aliens. "I've been given a new life!" he shouts, arms gesturing out wide, tendrils of green waving about in the air. "As master... of a new world conquest!" Behind him, the dozen aliens that surround the portal begin to level their weapons towards the heroic trio. Impulse runs through David to see what happens. Well, she kind of stands there, gazing with a wild-eyed curiousity, though the beginning idea of a threat seems to enter her mind. Cassie's form quickly darts in front of William. "Stay back sir! We don't know what your son has become." Her words ring out, far too slow for the reaction that Impulse just pulled, and yet, she still has to do the heroic 'Stay back citizen' attitude. Quivering like jelly, David blinks once as Impulse cruises right through his body, apparently shocked at both the youth's speed, and the fact that someone just, passed right through him. A few of the green tendrils slink down the lines of his body though, before they begin to creep back up. "Enough!" he shouts out, gesturing to his followers. "Our plan cannot fail! Destroy them now!" At this, the aliens begin to open fire, though the energy blasts are not red, but rather the safer yellow of stun energy. It doesn't make much of a difference though, as they're rather poor shots, hitting the walls and machinery instead of any of their targets. Most likely why they opted for the less damaging setting. Meanwhile, William does little else /but/ stay back, still gaping in horror at his son's altered visage. In fact, he slumps up against the wall, blinking in shock and disbeleif. "OKAY," yells Impulse, "Okay, that's enough." Of course absolutely no one lsitens to him, but it's a fun thing to yell. Y'know? He glances back at William, and sighs. "AIM, Cassie! Hold the thing at arm's length and make like you're pointing your finger, but you've got a badass stungun at the end!" He starts in with the kicking and the shooting again. Shooting straight up into the air, taking flight, Cassie gazes curiously at the weapon, points down and starts shooting. She misses one alien, hits another on the foot, and manages to hit the floor, about three times. Disgusted, Cassie simply dives forward, and they call Bart impulsive.. one foot kicks outwards, smashing her heel into an alien's slimey chin, which sends the creature strings and all, slumping into another, taking both down in a stream of goo. Her fist comes up, smashing into another, only to be hit by a blast of light, at basically point blank range, sending the young heroine flying backwards, landing with a *CRUNCH* into the wall. And so, the battle is begun again in earnest - save for two individuals, who remain fairly stationary throughout the flying fists and rampant rayguns. One is of course, the stunned and broken William, leaning heavily against the wall by the stairs. The other - his son, or what's left of him, poised almost regally before the odd portal, fists clenched before him as he watches his followers engage the young heroes. His tendril-covered face blanches, however, as Cassie crashes into the wall precariously near one computer. A computer that sits just to the right of the stairwell. "CASSIEEEEEE!" howls Impulse, turning around in a rather awkward flail, hitting a couple of gross aliens on the way. "You /nassheads/!" He makes a run for his fallen comrade, tripping over a pile of unconscious spaghetti-faces as he goes. With a yelp of surprise, he finds himself uncontrollably crashing into the computer next to Cassie, sending part of it toppling to the floor. He ricochets off, and shakes his head, trying to clear it. "Gah. Ow. Hey." He stands there for a millisecond longer, then looks down at Cassie, then looks up at the toppling part of computer - THAT'S HEADED RIGHT FOR HER! - and panicks! And scoops her up and out of the way and puts her somewhere she won't get hurt, if she's unconscious, and if she's semiconscious, he just kinda gets her out of the way. Then he gets his 'second wind', and starts kicking some righteous ass! Goggles askew, wig practically gone, Cassie's semi-conscious, just a bit dazed by the stun. It doesn't last long though, unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately for Cassie, she's rescued by Bart, even if the boy caused it in the first place.. Deposited out of the way, her hand darts to her chest, rubbing it where the blast hit. "Ow.." Her voice is rather dazed, though it doesn't take too much longer, before Cassie rises to her feet, trying to get the cobwebs out. Almost at the exact instant that Impulse careens into the computer, a horrific, gurgling chorus of screams sound out from the aliens who are still up and conscious, the few of them there are. And a quick glance around easily reveals why. The portal in the center of the room is closing, but even worse (for the aliens, that is), is that reality seems to be warping in the area around it, reaching out to encompass the Being Formerly Known as David. Small green tendrils are sucked vacuum-like into the portal, his face a mask of pain and torture. Pyrotechnic bursts of energy flash from computer to computer, machines going haywire as the portal flashes with similar bursts, continuing to suck David into it's reality-bending aura. Then, with an exceedingly loud explosion and flash, it closes entirely, taking David and the mass of green goo with it, only leaving a defiant scream of pain echoing across the basement in its place. Pause. Bart looks around. He looks at Cassie, he looks at William. "Umn. Let's get the /hell/ out of here!!!" he yells, and tugs at them. "Come on! Might explode!" "OH MAN! OHManOhManOHManOHmanohmAAAAAAN!" Cassie's voice echoes out faster than she can move, as she darts quickly towards the exit, reaching out to collect William in her arms if she can, her form in flight, its faster than running. Right on the heels of the trio as they take flight (both figurative and literal) up the stairs, the ensemble of machines and computers in the basement begin to explode with noisy force. The chaos doesn't reach far into the main level though, only a plume of acrid smoke drifts out of the the open stairway, along with the shadows of flickering fires from below. As the trio comes to a stop outside, William sort of sags limply as he's set down, caring less about the property damage than he does about what had happened to his son. But he makes an effort to shake it off, standing upright as the explosions die down inside. "I... don't know what to say," he begins, his somewhat hoarse voice growing stronger as he speaks. "If it weren't for you, that thing... All of those things.. They'd be getting ready to take us all over right now. You saved us." Remaining silent, the scream of the dying still echoing in her ears, Cassie gazes from Bart, to William, before lowering herself to the ground, arms linking behind her back. She remains silent not saying a word, just quietly casting her eyes from one to the other, mouth clamped into a line. Impulse sighs, looking down at William. "It's...I don't know. Don't worry about it too much. You have enough to worry about." He bites his lip. "And...I'm sorry. About your son." Silence for a moment, then he speaks up again. "If you need us again...we're staying with the Flash, in Keystone. Do you need anything right /now/? A ride, maybe?" Shaking his head just once, slowly, William responds to Impulse, his voice weary, yet also relieved. "My son.. is free now, of that I'm sure. When he was killed... I had no idea what they would do, to his body. But it wasn't him who died tonight... They'd already killed him, weeks ago." A small sigh escapes his lips then, before he turns to survey his house. "As for right now. I think... I'll be okay. It just takes time... But, I've got that, now. Don't I?" Pursing his lips, the young hero nods, and glances at Cassie. He looks back at William. "Yes, now you have time," he sighs. "Honestly, if you need anything...contact the Flash Foundation. I'll explain what happened, and they'll be more than glad to give you a hand." He blurs for a second, then is back, and hands William a slip of paper with the address and phone number, should he find the need. And it is hoped that William remembers, if he hadn't convinced Bart, found the courage and had the patience to deal with him, all /would/ have been lost. The speedster looks up at his partner again, and nods. "Please call if you need it." Nodding once, William glances down to the paper, before looking over to Bart, his crinkle-cornered eyes no longer blood-shot as they focus in on the young hero. "I will. And.. thank you." ....The End....