Earth ANew York CityGreenwich VillageA Dorm RoomJoe Rice wished he drank coffee. He really wished he liked coffee. If he liked coffee, h could go next door and ask his beautiful Italian neighbor to go drink some with him. He'd charm her with a beguiling wit and frankness. She'd flash that smile and say his name with that accent . . .she'd be impressed with his honesty. Also intrigued by his dual rockstar/superhero life, though she hadn't heard much about him before. They'd go back to his dorm room, the one right beside hers. He'd play a few songs for her. "You really like women, no?" she would comment. He'd smile. "I am woman, no?" she'd say and press herself against him and his guitar. He'd say something clever and she'd laugh and look into his eyes. He'd be wearing blue, so his eyes would seem extra bright.They'd kiss.But he doesn't like coffee. So he looked down into his handkerchief and noticed there was less there than the night before, and put it out of my mind. He put his pants back on and paced about the room.He was hungry. His friend, Kirk "Cappy" Diaz had insisted on dining hall food which they had had about ten minutes to eat. Half a plate of lasagna, some minestrone. Not enough.Joe grabbed his jacket and headed to McDonalds. Big Mac meal. Tasted good. The Dunhill tasted not as good, but felt better.Standing outside, he looked around finally. Disrepair to put it mildly. About now he wished he knew how to build things. What can a rock and roll superhero do to put the world back together?He figured not much and took another drag off the Dunhill.He looked in the window of a still-standing Nobody Beats the Wiz and there was Captain Stellar. His face was still effed up from his fight with Moira. Still bald. But he was still going strong. "Folks, this is Captain Stellar. Ed Kowalczek." Ever since that naked battle, his secret identity had been pretty much moot. The world marveled that their greatest hero was a sixty-year-old garbage man. "With the help of the Pantheon, we defeated the War Council and kicked the crap out of Moira, excuse my French. But it ain't over. Far from it. We have to bury the dead. Build everything back. We've got to clean up. I know I can count on everyone to do their part. Thank you."Joe took another drag and held it in until it started to sting.
A brief introductory interlude . . .ElsewhereWe were halfway through the multiverse, somewhere near Earth B, when the drugs started to kick in."King Goob!" I said to my good friend and sidekick sitting at my side in a Trans-dimensional Impala."Yes, Rocket Fish?" he replied earnestly, downing a bottle of Coluan vodka, using it to swallow a handful of assorted brightly colored goodies."Take the wheel. I believe I shall vomit now.""OK. Where we going?"In between beautiful wretches I gave him his answer. "How the f*ck should I know? Just go fast. I think those folks we shot on Earth K were pretty popular.""Mmmm. OK. Pass the tabs."
Earth ANew York CityGreenwich VillageSt. Marks StreetJoe had a special love-hate relationship to the famous Village road. They had a good comic store staffed nearly totally by women. A decent Kim's Underground Video. But all the dumbass pseudo-punkrockers annoyed him silly. Sitting on the sidewalk, begging for money, when they obviously spent more on their body alterations than most folks made in half a year. They wanted, it seemed, to be as alternative as possible. They weren't crooks, they were just irritating. He did his best to ignore them.At the end of the street was a Gap store. Joe wondered how much it infuriated the punks that their home had been invaded by the very worst of suburban homogenia. If it irritated him, how much more angry would they be?Someone through a brick through the window. Not a punk. Just your average moron. Joe didn't have anything better to do."Hey, genius. What the f*ck you think you're doing?"The man looked at him. The looter had to be about 6'4", 220-240 lbs. "What?" he said, simply."Man, you're extra-smart. Why don't you just vamoose on out of here and I mark that brick you just through as a sign of good taste, not criminal intent.""Hey, you little weasel, shut the f*ck up before I kill you. Just get out of here.""Oh, if you put it that way," Joe said. They were only about a foot away from each other now. He turned to leave, then suddenly stopped. "What's that? Huh? Really? Uh-oh." He turned back around. "I'm sorry, dumbf*ck, but Michelle doesn't think leaving's a good idea.""What the . . .who are you talking about? Are you nuts?""Nuts?" Joe said and brought his black DaDamerican weighted fighting stick out and quickly smashed it into the man's groin. "No, those are nuts." As the man doubled over, he spun around and brought the stick to the man's shin, which made a satisfying snap and he fell. "And this is Michelle," Joe said, spinning the stick and kissing it lightly.The man pushed himself out of the puddle of vomit he'd created. "Kill you," he said."Ennnng, sorry, that's not even a complete sentence," Joe flipped into the air and landed feet-first on the man's back, then crouched down, grabbed his hair, and slammed his head against the pavement with each beat: "Now YOU stay the F*CK DOWN!"The man obliged quite nicely.
From: Joe Rice (DaDamerican@hotmail.com)To: Dork Patrol (pantheon@jstreet.net)Message as follows:Hey, guys. I know I said I'd be back to J Street by now, but things are a bit more complicated than I thought. I have to do something. I feel partially responsible for what happened, and it IS my Earth after all. I'm not sure what exactly a destructive, chaotic guy like me can do to help rebuild, but I have to do something. Maybe I'll put on a benefit show for victims of that Moira stuff. Maybe I'll just rebuild my own life. But the point is, I can't come back to the Pantheon for a while. You're welcome to visit Earth A anytime, but I'm going to be way too busy for the next month or two to be gallivanting about the multiverse and hanging out at the Pond. Don't worry, though, I'll be back. Amy, you'll have to break the news about "us" to Joe yourself, sorry. JYu, it's great to have you back. Come visit me before I tell the Todds where you live. Mickey, don't you lose that crush on me, someday it'll work out. Grendel, you eat poo, but I guess that's OK. Gail, thanks for the advice, and you know what I'm talking about. Merl, keep drinking. Cowman, every time I eat a burger (MEAT!) I'll think of you, buddy. Willie, you know, the JLAshland doesn't have a lame water guy. And tell your girlfriend to stop hitting on me. Trench, get a haircut, you filthy hippie. Jason, beware of sticks. Rob, I'm real sorry about that misunderstanding I hear Evil Bill had with you. Too much AD&D. Dom, I'm flattered, but I don't think officially becoming a Sex God is something I need. Ozzie, remind me to tell you about this cartoon I think you'd dig. J'onn: guess what I'm thinking now. Don't die, Revenant. Harm, that Pulque is some rough shit. You're a good hombre, though. White Knight, I've learned a few new moves from a samurai. You're not gonna get me this time. Phannie, you can get my number from Willie. Hat, stay away from Nazis, you pansy-ass. Helga, I'll get back to you about that Bomb Squad business. Nick, it was good working with you. And Vance, thanks. I mean it. If I forgot you, then f*ck you.Rock and Roll,Joe Rice, DaDamerican