Equity on Holiday

Take a gander at the picture on the right. I'm sure that you'll recognize several of the folks therein contained and, needless to say, they're a classy lot of defenders, avengers, and contenders.

Who wants to fuck with Superman? Yeah, you guessed it; no one wants a piece of the Kryptonian pie. Wonder Woman? Well, okay, plenty of people want to fuck -with- her, and I can appreciate that, but the fact remains that you really wouldn't want to be forced into telling the absolute, unadultered truth about anything and everything under the sun, would you? (Alas, it appears that I've confused you for me.)

Let's not even get started on Batman, or Bruce Wayne for that matter. Playboy by day, badass by night; he's probably got a dick the size of the Joker's grin, too, and you just know that he's giving it to Catwoman some of the time. At this point, I don't even know what I'm talking about.

They're the Justice League! That's what I was slithering toward. They champion humanity, despite the enormous risk involved, all for the sake of beloved justice. Don't believe in justice? Too bad, as justice believes in -savagely beating- you.

Whoa, whoa, hey, stop. Stop.


The Justice League was participating in their annual goodwill parade within the great town of Corruption Junction, and so they left a few portly gentlemen armed with outdated costumes, a Camaro, and a bucket of fried chicken in charge of the monumental task of serving planet Earth.

The most unexpected event occurred: they failed. It's not what you may think, though, and that's an even greater shock. They received a distress call from the Republic of Korea, and from their hidden abode in the unsuspecting town of Spearfish, the 7-11 guys-turned-fourth-tier-superheroes had planned an unrelenting assault on the nefarious forces plotting against some of the better folks on the Korean peninsula. What they hadn't accounted for, however, was that a dilapidated 1984 Chevrolet Camaro -nicknamed the Hand of Rustice because they're witty like that- scarcely had the capability to make a journey beyond the borders of South Dakota, let alone across the Pacific.

A transcript of the second phone call (slightly edited for objectionable content*)

Man in Need: Where the fuck are you guys! I called you forty -five minutes ago, and...hold up.....and actually, as it turns out, I needed you an hour ago. Don't give me that 'My Beefaroni isn't out of the microwave yet' shit, either.

Caped Crusader: No man, no it's not like that. Hawkman gave us a ten dollar voucher for Ethanol fuel, see, and we thought that would get us there, like yesterday, but it didn't work. I mean, as in the coupon is expired. No good.

Man in Need: Look, if you would just dispense with some, nay, any justice, I'll even throw in a bag of popcorn and-

Caped Crusader: Hey, I'll call you right back. Just accept the charges, okay?

Man in Need: This is...absolute shit. Even Kennan could do a better job than you jackasses, and he's nailed Betsy Palmer...

The story itself may or may not be our business, but what does matter is this: Justice took a breather, and good people suffered. It wasn't the first time, and it certainly won't be the last. More on the issue later, when someone better equipped comes along.

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Anguirus


*In actuality, the Man in Need mentioned Bea Arthur, and not Betsy Palmer. Harsh.