******Miami******

"Saddle up, muchachos. Time for a road trip." The DaDamobile, a black Ford Explorer with all the nice deluxe crime-fighting trimmin’s gave off a bright reflection in the parking lot of the Ritz Plaza Miami. Willie Maxwell, the member of the collection of cosmic beings The Four known as The Old Blues Man, had arranged for its arrival. Still in civilian gear, our Rock N Roll heroes climbed in. Josh and his female companion (who they’d discovered was named Lindsey Cameron) climbed in the back, Casey having called "shotgun." Didn’t see Josh complaining too much, though.

Joe revved up the engine and popped in a mix tape. "Next stop, Athens. Georgia, that is."

******On the Road to West Virginia******

It was Wonder Mormon’s turn to drive the JLAshland Van. Back when Kung Fu had owned it, it was a featureless, windowless old van, often kiddingly referred to as a "kidnapper-mobile." When he joined the team, he brought his wheels. Infinite Mike and El Wood had, of course, made a few modifications. Chameleon 2000 Morhpogenic Paint being one such change. For this trip, it was in full splendor, with the JLAshland emblem blazing in all its glory. If the FBI was . . .less than cooperative, then it could be changed to blend in more fully.

Whiteguy and Wonder Mormon started their song again.

"Mock!" Whiteguy would say.

"Yeah!" said Wonder Mormon.

"Ing!"

"Yeah!"

"Bird!"

"Yeah!"

"Yeah!"

"Yeah!"

"Tell me baby have you heard?"

"Have you heard?"

"I’m gonna buy you a mocking bird!"

"Mocking bird!"

"And if that mocki—"

"SHUT UP! SHUT UP, SHUT UP, SHUT UP!" Ice Queen had lost her cool. "I do believe we have heard your rendition of Carrey and Daniel’s interpretation of ‘Mocking Bird’ enough times for three lifetimes!"

The two Leaguers fell silent. Whiteguy gave a few hand-signals to Wonder Mormon. At the count of three, they began, "One bottle of beer on the wall, one bottle of beer! Take one down, pass it around, put it back up, one bottle of beer on the wall!"

******Athens******

"Good to see you again, old chums," Joe said to the four men in space suits standing over a bizarre tentacled creature. "I suppose you have this under control?"

"DaDamerican! Long time no see! Is that Girlman and the Battlin’ Beatnik with you? Who’s the lovely lady?"

"CoCo, this is Lindsey Cameron. Lindsey, this is Man . . .or Astroman?--from right to left, CoCo the Electronic Monkey Wizard, Birdstuff, Star Crunch, and Dexter X, the Man from Planet Q."

The girl smiled widely. "You superheroes all know each other?"

"Well, the Justice League here has helped us on a few occasions. And afterwards, there’ve been a few wicked jams. These guys are some of our favorite humans in this continuum. You seem perplexed, DaDa. Can we be of assistance?"

"Sure can. Remember Kung Fu?" the heroes from a far future time nodded, Dexter in his mechanical way. "Well, he was disintegrated a while back. But The Old Blues Man can feel his presence in the Rock & Roll Field. Only by reaching his unique frequency can we bring him back. But just us isn’t enough. We need all the rock we can get. Care to lend your future sounds to the effort?"

"Affirmative," Dexter X said. Star Crunch gave the "OK" sign and Birdstuff nodded.

"What’s the plan?" CoCo asked.

"Meet us in Ashland in . . .let’s say the first week of August. We’ve got a few more folks to contact."

A screen on CoCo’s left arm started flashing. "Great galaxies!" he said. "We’ve got to get back to the Astrolab quick! The Lounge Lizard is breaking its container! Prepare for molecular transportation!" The rest of Man . . .Or Astroman? stood still and rigid as they disappeared.

The three Leaguers and their friend watched in wonderment. After a few moments, Casey asked "Where to next, big man?"

"Little town in Mississippi. Holly Springs. Old friend of Willie’s lives there."

******New Orleans******

Clouded in darkness, a man stroked his goatee. He gripped a warped, deviant cane. He looked in the mirror, but he gave no reflection. The reflective surface swirled and changed to that of an ugly man with a partially shaved head. What hair was there had been dyed black, green, purple, and a myriad of other unnatural shades.

"I am here to serve you, my dark master."

"Excellent, Agent Wilburn. I require the use of you and your Evil Horde. One of my minor sources has informed me of the existence of an extradimensional "soul trap" in West Virginia. It seems I’ll be coming home for a while."

******Holly Springs******

Our four searchers of Rock and Roll rolled past the gate to Lunati Farms and pulled up to the house. A few chickens walked awkwardly across the porch.

"This is it, I think. If Willie’s directions were correct."

"I don’t know about this, Joe. It’s pretty . . .rustic."

"Don’t be such a wuss, Casey. I’m sure there’s nothing to be afraid of."

The porch door burst open explosively. A circle of flames surrounded our heroes.

"WHO THE F*** ARE YOU BURSTIN’ IN ON MAH FAHM? I OUGHTTA BURN YO’ *SS TO A MUTHAF***IN’ CRISP!"

"R.L.?" Joe screamed. "R.L. Burnside? We’re here as friends! Willie Maxwell sent us!"

The flames disappeared. "Willie Maxwell? Sh*t, that’s all you hadda say! C’mon in. Already got company, but they oughtta be enough whiskey fo’ all of us." R.L. went back in his home. Casey, Josh, and Lindsey looked at Joe.

"What? Come on, let’s go in!" As they entered the crowded living room, Joe immediately recognized the three men R.L. had mentioned. "The Blues Explosion! Holeeee sh*t!"

Jon Spencer looked up from his flask. "Damn straight. Who the f*** are you?"

Russell Simmins put down his drumsticks. "Hey, you’re that DaDamerican guy, ain’tcha? You kids must be the Justice League."

"We gonna team up?" Judah Bauer asked. "If so, can we skip that fightin’ sh*t that always goes on?"

"Sounds good to me," Josh said. "Gimme some o’ that whiskey, man. We got a story to tell."

---Where? A several hour drive into West Virginia.---

The crescent moon hangs high in the sky as Infinite Mike slows the JLA van to a curious stop in the middle of the country road.

"What's going on, Infinite Boy?" asks Wonder Morman.

"I distinctly remember having been here before. I think we're going in circles."

El Wood sits up in the back of the van. "That is not logical. My global positioning and atlas systems have detected no other roads to have turned on for hours. It must be human error."

"Error or not," Infinite Mike says, "I know I saw that exact sign about an hour ago." He points to an old black and white sign that reads: "Scarry Creek." "I'm going to teleport back to Ashland and get better directions. Back in a jiff', fellow heros." With that, Mike disappears from sight.

Whiteguy opens the side door and steps out. "I needed to pee anyway." There is a struggle as he remembers that his costume wasn't outfitted with a zipper, but momentarily there is a happy trickle on the back tire of the van.

Ice Queen steps out of the van and walks over to the sign. "They're right about one thing. It sure is scarry here."

"Don't be such an old woman, Mary," Wonder Morman yells from inside the van. "You know what they say about West Virginia, though. How only the outskirts of the state have actually been explored and some kind of ancient civilization still exists in the heart of the state and curses anyone who disturbes their sacred home."

"That's not funny, Annie," retorts Ice Queen. "Do you want me to tell Joe that you like him again?"

"You wouldn't dare, you...."

Wonder Morman is cut off by an alarm form within the van. El Wood calls out. "Detected! Significant vibrations detected in the earth near us! Something is coming fast, and it's big!"

Moments later the others can feel the vibrations and hear trees smashing and being crushed as something is making its way toward them. Stricken with fear, the heros can do nothing but stare in amazement as a herd of armored elephants tear through the forest, each with its own mounted rider straight out of some savage Robert E. Howard fantasy story.

--A few minutes later---

Infinite Mike appears back in the drivers seat of the van. "I think we need to turn back. There is supposed to be a turn off a few...Hello?" All he finds is an abandoned van, Whiteguy's costume in a pile on the road, and a trail of curious looking animal goog.

---Ashville, North Carolina---

The Battling Beatnik steps out of the DaDamobile into the excited sreet in front of Barley's, a favorite local resturant and bar. There is a dirty looking bluegrass band playing in the street in front of the clothing store next door.

Girlman, DaDamerican, and Lindsey go into the resturant to get a table while the Battling Beatnik walks over to the bluegrass band. He drops a dollar in the hat and picks up a banjo.

Inside, Linsey asks Girlman and DaDamerican, "So, do you think he likes me?"

"Why wouldn't he? I know I do," answers girlman.

"I mean, he's...um...he's just so damn cool. I can't tell."

The Beatnik walks in and sits at the table. "They'll be there."

The waitress walks over and falls into DaDamerican's lap, kissing him hard.

tbc

--Somewhere near Scarry Creak, West Virginia--

"What in the world happened here?"

Mike was left clueless. The JLA(or what was left of it) had disappeared. To where, he didn't know, and this scared him. All that he knew was that some of Whiteguy's oufit was left behind, there was this strange substance all around the area, and some of the trees that he distinctly remembered standing had snapped and fallen into the ground.

Something really strange was going on, and he was in the middle of it.

"I have to find out what's going on." Three other Infinite Mikes appeared, and each of the four went their seperate way searching. For what they were searching, they didn't know. But they'd know it when they found it.

-Time Passes-

One of the Mikes had been following the path of the snapped and uprooted trees. The thing that did this was probably responsible for the disappearence of his friends. But it seemed that the uprooted trees just kept going on and on. Something sinister was there, but Mike just couldn't put his finger on what it was...

*BANG*

"Wha..." Mike spun around, and was hit hard by something. He was knocked off his feat and back into some brush. The other three Mikes, knowing what just happened, teleported back into one Mike, who was now lying on the ground holding his chest. The pain stung like nothing that he'd felt before. He took his hand away from his chest and saw that it was covered in hot scarlet. A long dark shadow appeared over Mike.

"Welcome to Scarry Creek."

The voice sounded familiar. It was one that Mike knew that he'd heard a long time ago, but he wasn't sure where. He looked up at the figure. The moonlight cascaded down onto his face. Mike began to feel very tired. He tried to sit up, but couldn't.

"Do you like my new and improved paintball? These even have the look and texture of blood. They also have drugs in them. They should be taking effect any moment now."

Mike looked at the ghosty figure. He was shorter than Mike, and a bit corpulent. And he had a bad haricut.

"What are you doing here? Aren't you ..."

Infinite Mike was unable to finish his sentence as he collapsed into darkness.

tbc...

******Los Angeles******

The Donut Prince opened up a Twinkie. "So . . .‘DaDamerican’ . . .we Go-Nuts sympathize with your plight. But I’m afraid it’s a bit out of our jurisdiction. Right, Kaptain Korn Nut?" he asked his black-clad companion, who was adjusting his German-style helmet.

"The Donut Prince speaks truthfully! We Go-Nuts are The World’s Greatest Super-Hero Snak Rock and Gorilla Entertainment Revue, not some weird voodoo bringin’ folks back to life band." The man in the green tights and black dog mask beside him nodded, mouth full of M&M’s.

A man in a yellow, purple, and red jester’s outfit with a black mask and round pastries instead of bells sipped his Hi-C. "See, even the Korn Dog agrees!" he said.

"But Donut Hole . . .all of you, we need your help. Besides, there’s gonna be a party afterwards. With snacks." DaDamerican used his last ploy. The other band’s eyes brightened.

"The Go-Nuts will be there . . .with our gorillas, Dolly and Madison!" Kaptain Korn Nut said.

"Speaking of which . . .what are they going crazy about?" Lindsey asked. "What’s on that TV?"

"Some sort of ancient army of undead cowboy villains in Texas!" Donut Prince said, nearly losing his crown.

"If you’ll excuse us, then, I think we’re needed," Girlman said.

"Cool," said the Battlin’ Beatnik.

******An Evil Lair in Ashland, KY******

Infinite Mike woke to a cold table, a foul stench, a woozy head, and a disgusting sight. He meant to say something heroic and witty, but "Yer schtuuuuupida Beeeezhay!"

The pock-marked face in front of him twisted into a smile that not even a mother could love. "I see the drugs are still in your system, you supposedly infinite fool! And don’t call me that! Call me . . .Doctor Doom!"

Infinite Mike chuckled, "Can’t. That namesh takin’, doooooork." Then Mike thought to himself Drugs? What drugs? I feel great!, while watching the cool lights that trailed his captor when he moved.

"Dammit! All the good names are taken! Sigh. How about Ultimor?"

"Iyeeeee don’ tink sho. I don’ know innybodee wit’ that naaame."

"Excellent! I, Ultimor, have captured Infinite Mike! The world will fall before me!"

Mike remembered something. "Yooo cannn’t tapkure . . .patcure . . .catch me! I kin tellllllaport."

"Just try it. In your state, you’d end up in the middle of a passing family car, killing you and all inside."

Something inside of the Infinite one knew this to be true. He had to get un-drugged.

******Dallas******

Our hard-traveling heroes made the scene, and quite a scene it was. Some of Texas’s greatest superhumans were all joined in battle against the dead cowboy legion.

The Reverend Horton Heat (the band) had formed The Reverend Horton Heat (the composite being). Towering over the battle field in its trademark black leather pastor’s clothing, it pinned in five with a circle of flame.

The Highwaymen, respected maverick heroes, were also fighting against the menace. There was a large patch of complete darkness where the Man in Black had used his powers to drain the light from the area and was taking a few zombies down by hand. The Rhodes Warrior spouted Shakespearean poetry and country lyrics while savagely beating two zombies with a concrete block on a bar. The Red-Headed Stranger, finding no use for his disguise ability, took a few out with his special shotgun. And the Balladeer wove his magical ballad, narrating how three zombies fought each other into oblivion.

"YEEEEEEE-HAW!" DaDamerican screamed as the DaDamobile barreled into one zombie, splattering it. Battlin’ Beatnik opened up the rear window and jumped out onto the field as Girlman took to the skies. "Lindsey, hang on, sweetheart. This ride’s gonna be rough, and BB would kill me if I mussed your pretty face." The DaDamobile peeled out again in search of more prey.

Swooping from above, Girlman grabbed two zombies and flew high into the sky with them. Battlin’ Beatnik grabbed to crosses out of his pouch and held them in each hand. The two zombies fell from the sky onto them, instantly disintegrating. Four more ran at him, and he dropped to the ground and then leapt and did a spin kick 360° decapitating all four. "Too damn easy," he sighed.

******A Completely Different Evil Hideout In Ashland, KY******

Agent Wilburn adjusted a couple of his piercings and knocked gently on the Dark Lord Gullett’s coffin. "Dark Lord," he said, "it’s night-time. I’ve assembled the Evil Horde. Time to wake up."

The ebony coffin creaked open, revealing a disheveled Dark Lord. "You would think waking up wouldn’t be so tough after death, wouldn’t you?" Agent Wilburn’s face remained blank. "Well, don’t just stand there. Help me out of this thing!"

The Dark Lord straightened his dark-cherry red velvet robe and looked about the room. There twentysome pale, black clad, multiple-pierced, body-altered punks and goths. And they were his to command. Soon, so would this supposed "Soul Trap."

"To West Virginia we must go!" he shouted.

******Madison******

"I still can’t get over how cool that was," Lindsey said. "We kicked so much *ss! And all those guys are going to come help!"

The Battlin’ Beatnik took a long draw off his pipe. "It was ok."

"I’m excited about this meeting," Girlman said. "For more than the obvious reasons. I mean, we used to cover this band, Joe!"

"I know, man. I’ve met so many of my personal heroes on this trip. It’s cool that Ben got disintegrated."

"Better hope he didn’t hear that," Girlman said. "WHOA, STOP!" The DaDamobile skidded to a halt.

"WHAT?" DaDamerican asked.

"Better be good. My pipe went out."

"Look in that café! It’s them!"

"Sh*t! You’re right! Good thing, too. I didn’t have the slightest idea where I was going!" Joe quickly parked his mean black machine and fed the meter a few nickels.

As they walked in, the Leaguers couldn’t help but feel stares. Then they realized, oddly at once, that they hadn’t put their civilian clothes back on. A smallish man with large blue eyes walked up to them.

"‘Spose you’re here for us. You bad guys are good guys? Can we change into our costumes first?"

"Don’t worry, Mr. Gano. We’re good guys. And we have a proposition for the Violent Femmes."