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| Christmas Special December 2005 |
"The Night it Snowed in Vermillion, California" Written By Thomas Deja |
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NOTE: This takes place after CHAMPIONS #6 (or maybe 7, we'll find out)
"This is low," Fabian Stankowicz, who had been using the sobriquet of The Blue Bullet of late, proclaimed. "Even for someone like you."
The lithe, feline form of the Black Widow stepped forward from the darkness and fired her widow's line. The thin monofilament wrapped itself around the massive orange, mottled flesh of the being's wrist. "You do know this is Christmas?"
"What do I care for some pagan celebration thought up to delude you worthless pieces of stone?"
"Stone?" Mattie Franklin, who had only recently turned her back on the legacy of Spider-Woman to call herself Rebound asked. "He's the one making like--"
"Ben Grimm explained it to me once," Piotr Rasputin told his teammate as he triggered the genetic mutation that allowed him to become a veritable Colossus of organic metal. "Because they are so mutable in form, they think of humanity and other stable life forms as being made of stone. Unyielding, hard...."
Mattie closed her eyes and reached out with mental abilities grown stronger since recovering from her addiction. She started exploring the neurons of her opponent, neurons as alien as his appearance. "Still seems too pot-calling-the-kettle."
Their opponent roared and flicked his wrist. The Widow found herself flying through the air, a nearby derelict building her apparent destination. The Blue Bullet activated his air jets to assist his leader, but a gout of flame dissuaded him. Fabian quickly worked his HUD to switch his omni-gun to his 'tarpit' bullets when a flash of white silently flew in and lifted the beautiful woman into the air.
"None of you are worthy of death at the hands of the magnificent Super Skrull!" their opponent roared, his mottled slowly green skin turning translucent.
"Verily, we have something in common, dog!" came the response from behind the alien warrior. The ground shook as the massively muscled form of Hercules charged, his golden mace held firmly in his hand. "For the Prince of Power thinks you are unworthy of the precious gift of battle!"
The powerful alien turned and gestured with his left, flaming hand. Hercules collided with an invisible shield--just a moment before Colossus rammed into him from the opposite side. The Blue Bullet fired, a projectile hitting the Super Skrull in the face and covering his eyes with a viscous black substance. "Any luck, Rebound?"
"His mind is crazy weird...but I think I'm pinpointing where he manages his powers!" she replied.
Blinded by the Bullet's attack, the Skrull's force shield dissipated. The two powerhouses of the Champions converges, their fists landing a series of blows that echoed throughout the empty streets of Tanniger Square. "You will not spoil this night, abomination," Colossus promised.
"I thought the Abomination was the other green bumpy guy," Blue Bullet interjected.
"It's a figure of speech, Fabes. Focus!" The Angel admonished before flying by and adding his own fist to those of his larger, stronger companions.
Quickly, the purple and black form of the Super Skrull oozed out from the spaces between the two strongmen. As he reformed, the Angel swooped down and put the green-skinned monstrosity in a stranglehold. "I have ground the Hulk beneath my heel. I...will not be beaten...by the likes of you!"
A force field expanded outward from the Super Skrull, throwing Angel backwards. The Blue Bullet rushed in low, his omni-gun scattering the ground below the alien with incendiaries. Hercules leapt up and brought his mace down hard, causing the creature's bulk to sink into the softened tarmac. "You shall be beaten, foul beast....so swears the Prince of Power!"
The Super Skrull backhanded Hercules with one massive, rocky fist. "Away with you!"
Suddenly, Rebound's eyes flew open. She took to the air, grinning like a child. "Got you!"
"What..." For a moment, concern flickered on the Super Skrull's face. He twirled to face the young woman in the simple brown costume. "Leave my mind, slattern!"
He fired a force bolt at Mattie. The young girl stopped short in her trajectory. Before the bolt impacted, Colossus put himself in the path. The bolt bounced off his organic steel hide...
It was The Black Widow, who was on the roof waiting for her moment, who noticed where the bolt landed.
"Oh, no," she gasped.
Warren flew upwards. "What?"
Natasha simply pointed to a spot where what appeared to be an aircraft disappeared below the city's skyline. A split second later, a booming clatter rent the air. "Our disagreement with our alien friend may have brought something down.," she said, he words coming out in a breathless torrent. "I'll notify the authorities; have the others join me once you shut the Super-Skrull down."
"But--" Warren said as the Widow was already halfway across the rooftops. Below, the Blue bullet endeavored to keep Rebound protected while Hercules and Colossus struggled to keep the Skrull still.
"Shut him down now," she admonished. "No telling how many lives we can avoid losing."
In the days following the discovery of Jamal Porter's brand new X-Box 360 by his grandmother, he would not divulge the circumstances surrounding his obtaining it. Melissa Porter, who had lived in Vermillion since it was declared a city, suspected Jamal stole it. But there was no evidence of his doing so, and when she searched her heart she couldn't turn him in without evidence. After all, Jamal was a good boy; he kept up his studies, he got good grades, he avoided the pitfalls of falling in with the local gangs and managed to be both an example and an authority figure to his younger brother. To believe he had stolen the device would mean she had to admit he had fallen away from all his good habits, and that she could not believe.
Melissa Porter would be pleased to know that Jamal had, in fact, not stolen the video game console.
The reason Jamal wouldn't tell her where he got it was that she wouldn't believe him if he told her.
Would you believe him, he would say, if he told his gramma that he was coming home from seeing a movie at The Roman with some of his friends, and they were all acting stupid and acting out their favorite parts, when there was this noise like an M80 or a Black buster going off. He and his friends looked up and saw this weird ship coming down. They also heard this other noise, like animals crying out in pain, and then there was this whistling, and some old guy landed hard right in the middle of Marcus Garvey Boulevard. The old guy skipped and skidded along the center line like a stone chucked across the surface of Prometheus Fountain (when the fountain is actually, you know, full of water) before he came to a stop at the place where Garvey intersects Gold Street. He only had to look to see how the guy's head was sticking out into Gold, and he knew a delivery truck or something would come down any minute, so he got his friends to drag the old guy out of the road and onto the sidewalk.
The old guy was dressed in a red, fur-trimmed outfit, which prompted some of his friends to make jokes about Santa Claus. One of Jamal's friends, who everyone called Tech, started to go through the old guy's pockets. But Jamal stopped him, telling Tech that the guy was probably hurt real bad, and they needed to go get help. Tech started getting up in Jamal's face, and his other friend Wall joined in. It was then that they all saw that Widow-lady from the Champions swing by, going in the direction of the noise. Jamal pointed out that if they rolled the poor guy--or if he died because they were too busy robbing him--he was sure the Champs would find out.
That shut Tech and Wall up real good. So Jamal sent his friends to the hospital to get the man some help. He decided to stay with the old guy.
When Jamal's two friends were out of sight, the old guy opened one eye.
"Jamal," he said to him, "you're a good boy. You need to go to your grandma; she worries about you and she shouldn't spend this night alone."
Jamal told him that he shouldn't talk or move, that he probably was hurt, and that they were getting help for him. But then there was this noise, and Jamal left the man's side for a moment to check it out.
When Jamal turned his attention back to the old man, he was gone. And in his place was...
Well, Jamal would say, I don't need to tell you, do I?
"Verily, child," Hercules said through gritted teeth, "It would do us well for you to do your magics on this knave."
Mattie Franklin shot the Prince of Power a dirty look. "I lost my concentration when he tried to par broil me," she explained.
"Mattie," Colossus told the young girl with a calm a voice as he could muster, "I think enough time has passed for you to regain that concentration."
The Super Skrull growled low in his throat and whipped his head around to face Hercules. His neck stretched, and the alien's skull hit the Prince of Power full on. The Blue Bullet swore under his breath and fired his omni-gun, this time producing a net that caught the elongated head. The armored hero pulled the Skrull's head forward.
"Got it again," Mattie said, as a strange corona of energy radiated from her brow, an corona that resembled the spindly, angular legs of a spider. Suddenly, the Skrull's neck snapped back to its normal length, an action that caused the Blue Bullet to fall forward. The alien glared at Mattie with his emerald, red-rimmed eyes.
"Witch," he hissed. "What have you done?"
Mattie smiled and barreled towards him to lay a punch on the alien's knobbled jaw. "I'm not sure, but I think I shut down the part of your brain that acts as an interface between your body and the broadcast energy that fuels your powers."
"Which means," Colossus added as he struggled to put the alien into a full nelson. "that you are no stronger than any other Skrull with cybernetic enhancements."
"Which means," Hercules chimed in as he pulled his fist back, "that you are about to know the bliss of Lethe thanks to the efforts of my fist. Give my regards to the Lotus Eaters!"
Mattie looked away before impact. She always hated this part.
As she swung through the streets, Natasha prepared for the worst.
This was, after all, potentially a major disaster. It was the sort of thing that their detractors on the Vermillion City Council (one of which, Bryce Lillimore, actually was a detractor because he wanted Mayor Aguilar's job) claimed The Champions would attract. That it looked like the aircraft hit landfall somewhere in the Fold made things immensely worse. The last thing the Mayor needed were some of his patrons turning their back on his dream project.
If this was going to be a mess, Natasha needed to have it squelched, and quickly.
Finally, she made her way to Moses Avenue. She took a deep breath; the last thing the people of Vermillion needed to see was the leader of their new super-team panic. All of the major avenues in The Fold headed toward the City Square, so all she needed to do was follow the street and she'd come across Ground Zero. She concentrated on the chill of the streets, the way the stars shone down on this special night.
And it was special in some ways. It seemed most of the criminal vermin that preyed upon Vermillion took Christmas Eve off; there wasn't even any evidence of Jones and Hamilton's people skulking about looking to sell their poisonous wares. The dead quiet of the city made her anxiety bleed away bit by bit. A quick look around indicated no smoke or flames; a more or less clear sky meant the disaster hadn't set off any secondary disasters--which, in a place as rough as Vermillion, meant a lot.
As Natasha swung across The Bartholomew Concourse, its statuary appearing particularly ghostly in the moonlight, she finally saw what she took to be Ground Zero. What was going on was a little difficult to discern, as a crowd seemed to have gathered. The people, many still in their bedclothes, were jostling each other in an attempt to get closer. Some broke away from the pack, objects under one arm.
Great, she thought, they're looting the crash site. This will not do.
Nimbly, the woman who had spent most of her adult life witnessing and averting the horrors of the modern world, landed on top of one of the abstract bronze sculptures that decorated the Concourse. She only barely registered the obscene graffiti someone had sprayed on the bump she balanced on.
Her arm extended and she fired a widow's bite into the crowd. Her aim was so good, so instinctive, that it scattered the crowd without injuring any of them.
"You know who I am," Natasha proclaimed in her best stentorian voice. "You know I have the authority of the City behind me. Leave this site now."
It was only then, as the crowd dispersed--a few grumbling about only taking what was theirs--that Natasha got her first clear look at Ground Zero...
And the ornate red sleigh lying on its side in the grass of one of Moses Avenue's pocket parks...
And the neatly wrapped presents scattered across the lawn....
And the coterie of reindeer looking up at her calmly with eyes as emotionless as black glass buttons.
"Boshemoi," she hissed under her breath, her arm lowering slowly.
Warren turned away from his four teammates to hide the surprise on his face.
"'Tash, this is the wrong time to develop a sense of humor," he said into the microphone of his headset.
"I've always had a sense of humor," the Widow protested.
"I know. It's just ...subtle."
"There's nothing wrong with subtle!" The exasperation came through the microphone clearly. Warren heard some background noise, that prompted her to add, "Those better have your names on them!"
Warren looked over at the others. Hercules had wrapped a number of trash cans around the Super Skrull, and he and Piotr were sitting on the alien. Fabian had his helmet off; he waved to Warren. "You're telling me we accidentally shot down San--"
"Or someone very much like him...and he's missing," Natasha replied. "Even if this is some powered lunatic, he's running around the city, maybe hurt. If he's dressed as Santa claus, and he gets mugged or worse...."
"The publicity will kill any goodwill the Mayor has garnered. I got it."
Behind Warren, Hercules exclaimed, "Do you not know when to stat asleep, ugly one?" followed by a particularly nasty thump.
"Have you wrapped up our super-villain problem?"
"Yeah," Warren admitted. "I've got Herc sitting on his bumpy head, and O'Riley's dragging Code Blue in to whisk him off to The Vault."
"Good," he heard Natasha said before warning, sternly, "I'm expecting ID if you take one!" He heard her take a deep breath. "Get somebody to baby sit Hercules and let us fan out and find our Saint Nicholas before it all goes wrong."
>She Claims He Is The Actual Santa Claus?<
"She's keeping the possibility open," Fabian sub vocalized into the secondary comm link, the one he used only to talk to his Friend. He used his heads-up display to engage the ambient filter so he could concentrate on the conversation. He heard his Friend grunt.
>I had taken Natasha Romanova for an intelligent woman. It seems I was mistaken.<
"Hey!"
To his right, Warren banked and glanced over. "You okay, Fabes?"
Even though Fabian's face couldn't be seen underneath the sapphire-colored helmet, he gave the Angel and uneasy smile. "It's okay. Just talking to myself."
>You may need to develop a more plausible cover for our conversations.<
"I know," Fabian said before something out of the corner of eye drew his attention. He pressed the fingertip switches on his right hand and fired a tracer from his right omni-glove. The tiny, orb-shaped object circled him before Fabian indicated the direction for the device to go. A quick manipulation of his heads-up display brought a small video monitor up in the upper left hand side of his face plate. After a minute of wandering, the orb began to slowly descend in reaction to a number of heat signatures.
"Hey, Angel! I think I found him."
And indeed, down in an alleyway was a large man with a mane of snow-white hair and a full beard in a red suit standing before a trio of young men brandishing knives and pipes. The man seemed oblivious to the black and gold bandanas the young men wore, which indicated that they were members of Los Tigre Malo, a street gang that operated out of Timely. It was the neighborhood that acted as the buffer zone between The Fold and Blue Heights, and many people counted on the Tigres feud with the other gangs to keep everyone outside The Fold itself.
Fabian activated the homing protocol of the probe and then manipulated his omni-gun to fire his compressed air bullets. He plotted his flight path on a wide parabola so that he was approaching slightly off center and between the Tigres and their target. He caught sight of Warren following behind, ready to provide air support. As Fabian descended he let fire, the targeting computers in his armor guiding each projectile to disarm the gang members. Fabian went into the center gangsta hard, driving into the wall and effectively knocking him out. Meanwhile, Warren swooped in and batted at another attacker with his wingspan, an action that distracted him enough for the mutant to land a powerful punch. The final Tigre was about to take off, but Fabian was already in position, using his compressed air to knock him off his feet.
Warren turned to the man in the red suit. "Are you okay?" he asked.
The man smiled. In spite of himself, Fabian found that he felt ...gladdened for some reason. "You're a good boy. You shouldn't be beating yourself up for what happened. She wouldn't want that."
Warren turned white. Fabian stepped forward and took his arm. "Angel, you okay?"
The man in the suit looked to Fabian. Even behind the featureless helmet of his Blue Bullet armor, he felt the man was looking right into his eyes. "You're a good boy, too. You've done some bad things, but you've become a very good boy. You should stay away from the Bad Man; he believes he's helping you, but his help will cost you everything."
"The bad ...I-I don't know what you're talking about," Fabian stammered, even though he knew exactly who...
Well, he might as well admit it...who Santa was talking about.
The man smiled, a smile that lit up his face. "You can be so wonderful. Please don't listen to him."
Angel seemed to sag in Fabian's grip. For a moment, he looked to his boss to make sure everything was okay.
When Fabian turned back to face St, Nick, the man was gone.
Captain Bathsheba 'Baba' O'Riley hated being the head of the Vermillion Code Blue almost as much as she hated The Who for writing the song that would terrorize her her entire life.
There wasn't a Code Blue before these Champions rolled into town. That there was a need for a Code Blue division in the city was another matter--this place had been attracting super-villains looking for dumb hired muscle almost as long as the city existed. But with the Mayor bringing his pet super-team to town to spruce the place up made starting a Code blue arm of the VPD a priority. And Bathsheba, because of how she helped the supers in the whole snuff reality show run by the crazy Texan, ended up being named head to the division. Now if only she could duck the requests made by Aguilar to undergo 'augmentation therapy'...
she kicked the console of the heavy duty 'Scram Van' the Oakland Code Blue had given them. Oakland had donated a large variety of equipment to the nascent department, and it was only when Bathsheba examined them that she discovered this was the dilapidated material the Oakland officers had worn out. The Scram Van, which was supposed to be able to outrun most 'metaphysically dextrous perpetrators' short of speedsters like Quicksilver, worked in fits and starts. If it wasn't the sturdiest of the vehicles handed over to Code Blue, she would never have taken it out to deal with this alien the Champs had captured.
On Christmas Eve. When she was five minutes away from getting in a car and driving up to San Francisco for an overnight date with Jack....
She kicked the console again and ignored the inquiries from one of the uniforms assigned to help her.
It was lucky she ignored the uniform, because if she hadn't, she would have hit the fat guy dressed as Santa claus that appeared in the middle of the street.
With a curse on her lips, Bathsheba swerved....
Mattie Franklin kept looking up and down the street for signs of Captain O'Riley's arrival. She had quickly gotten bored watching Hercules watching the Super Skrull, the Olympian sitting on the alien's chest and thumping him whenever he showed signs of coming to. Only a small portion of her mental powers kept watch on the Skrull's brainwaves, ready to shut down his ability to access his powers at a moment's notice.
She secretly wished that Fabian had been assigned to baby sit Herc. It wasn't like she couldn't fly, and she was reasonably certain her increased psychic abilities could locate the guy playing Santa faster than Fabian's little probe thingies. And besides, it would mean being close to Warren. Warren...did something to her, something that she was having trouble figuring out how to handle. She knew that his girlfriend died recently, but still...
Finally, she saw the bulky van that Captain O'Riley's unit drove. Mattie waved broadly to let their police contact know where they were...
And that was when the fat guy in the red suit seemed to step out from a spot out of the corner of Mattie's eye onto the street. The van swerved suddenly to avoid the curious figure in red and white, slamming up onto the sidewalk and smashing into a fire hydrant. Mattie rushed to the new arrival, who seemed oblivious of the chaos he had just caused.
"sir, you have to get off--"
The man reached out and caressed Mattie's cheek. A smile slowly dawned on his face. "You're struggling, but you're a good girl. You just have to let go....and give him time. He's not ready yet. Neither are you."
Behind her, she heard Hercules say, "Lord Odin?" She turned to see the Olympian slowly rise from the perch on the Super-Skrull's chest, a quizzical expression on his face.
"Another very good boy," the guy in the red suit offered.
Officer O'Riley came out of the van and fast-walked toward Mattie. Her eyes were on the fat man, and they were a terrible thing to behold.
Hercules was not standing. "It is you, Lord Odin! Have you lost your memory again and abandoned Asgard to wander amongst the mor--"
He didn't see the blast coming that took him off his feet and melted the pavement around him. And Mattie cursed herself for not being aware of the Skrull's consciousness thanks to the distraction of the guy who looked like Santa.
The Super skrull roared and drew himself to his full height. "Will no one leave me alone?"
Officer O'Riley cursed. "Get the heavy munitions out, stat!"
The fat man's eyes narrowed. He pointed at the Skrull. "You...you are bad. You are very, very bad."
The Skrull laughed. He started towards Mattie and the new arrival, his hands forming into facsimile's of The Thing's. She put herself in front of the man, her mind already preparing as powerful a psychic blast as she could muster.
He raised his fists as he got within arm's length of Mattie. "And all of you in this damnable city will be very....what trickery is this?"
Mattie turned. The guy in the suit was gone.
Piotr had gotten out of the police car to find Natasha still perched on top of the statuary of Bartholomew Commons, her chin resting on her hands. He had expected to see a mob scene, but what he found was an overturned sleigh, a number of reindeer calmly munching on the grass, and an empty canvas sack. Seeing such a calm--if bizarre--sight, he powered down, allowing organic steel to turn into flesh and blood.
"What are you doing here?" she asked in a small voice he had never heard her use before.
"Warren was concerned about the crowd. He thought I would be best used assisting you in keeping the peace."
"There was no peace to keep," Natasha started.
Piotr offered his fellow Russian a hand. She took it and climbed down the bronze structure. "Are you okay, my friend?"
"They were all addressed," she told him.
"Pardon?"
"The packages...that the people were taking," Natasha explained. "They were all addressed...to them. I know; I checked ID."
Piotr mulled this over in his head. "This is strange."
He watched Natasha's eyes grow wide. "You do not know strange," she muttered.
He followed her gaze to see that a large man in a red suit with white trim had appeared in the middle of the reindeer and were petting them. He seemed to be searching for something.
"Excuse me!" Piotr said.
"There it is," the large man said, picking up the sack. He turned to face Piotr and a flicker of surprise crossed his face. "Oh, my ...you're...you're not just good. You're blessed, aren't you?"
"Are these your animals?" Piotr asked.
"Of course," the man replied simply. "Excuse me, but I must go for a second. Please keep an eye on them, will you? I'm afraid they might get skittish."
Piotr stared for a moment, then nodded dumbly.
The man drew closer and whispered, "and please watch over her. I know she wants to be good, but she'll need you to help cleanse the taint of all the bad things."
"Who--do you mean Natasha?" Piotr asked, taking a moment to glance over his shoulder at the Widow. When he looked back, the man in red was gone.
Mattie silently thanked God that she still retained the ability to fly; she barely was able to take off a split second before the rocky fists of the Super-Skrull landed with enough force to smash the concrete. Hercules came at the alien from the left, having dug himself out of a wall, but the Skrull was ready, stretching one of his limbs and forming a mace that clocked the Olympian in the side of the head.
Mattie concentrated. The corona of energy appeared around her head, and she sent a lancet of pure mental energy into the Skrull's brain. The creature convulsed, grimaced and threw a globe of invisible force around Mattie's head. The fit was tight, like someone had put a plastic bag over her head. "I will do what your parents should have done when you were birthed, you pebble."
Mattie panicked as she felt her lungs burn. The Skrull pressed Hercules against the street with an invisible force construct. Captain O'Riley's men fired, but the alien just laughed off the attempts to injure him.
Black spots crawled across her eyes, and she feared she was going to die.
That was when the man in red showed up again, right behind the Super-Skrull. He held a big canvas sack open with both hands.
"You're a very, very bad boy," he told the Skrull. The alien turned around and sneered a moment before the man threw the sack over the Skrull's head. Rapidly, the bag lowered all the way over the massive monstrosity's body, even to a point where Mattie knew it was impossible for it to go....
Suddenly, the force bubble disappeared from around Mattie's head. She fell a few feet before she stabilized herself.
"I don't like doing that," the man in red said, "but some boys...they just need a lesson."
"What the Hell...." murmured Captain O'Riley.
The man threw his sack over his shoulder. Mattie thought it was a trick of the light, but she swore she saw the bag start to change shape, as if it was being filled up with...
No. That was crazy.
"Please, watch your language," the man in red told Captain O'Riley. "You're a good girl, but you're also a role model. Don't spread such a bad habit."
Mattie lit down on the ground. Around her, the sky was speckled with bits of white...as if...
No. That was crazy as well.
"Sir," Mattie said. "Are you...?"
He looked back at her, his eyes alit with mirth. Somehow she knew her answer. "I'm sorry, but I'm rather late. My apologies for making a mess."
Mattie nodded.
"And keep on eye on your friends. Things will be tough, but you will all get by. Good boys and girls always do.
And the snow started coming down. And the big man disappeared into it.
"I don't know what to tell you," Natasha told Warren. She handed him a fresh cup of coffee. "We're taught not to believe in these things where I come from."
"And yet," Piotr suggested. "All that we have been through--together and separate--how can we rule out that who we met was--"
"Because he doesn't exist," Fabian stated. "The news is saying the snow was a freak occurrence."
Mattie curled up in front of the television. "Can't we just forget this? It's too weird to think about."
Warren stared into his coffee. "He knew a lot about me, Tash. Personal stuff."
For a second, Fabian looked ill.
"I keep thinking," he continued, "there was some message we're supposed to get from all this."
"Or it could be just a bunch of stuff that happened," Fabian countered.
"Ho, my friends!" Hercules boomed as he came in from the kitchen of the Champion's HQ. Piled high were hamburgers, charred black."The Prince of Power brings glorious foodstuffs to fill the belly of good comrades! Something his good friend Hawkeye taught him to make!"
"If Hawkeye taught you," Natasha said with a mock-scowl, "I'm not eating them."
"Oh, come on'," Mattie said as she grabbed one off the plate. "He took the time."
"Because he's our friend," Fabian added. "That's what matters, isn't it?"
"I am still not touching those things. I have nightmares of the stomach pains I received from the last time I let Clint cook for me."
Piotr grabbed pair of burgers and handed one to Fabian. "For friendship."
"And being good boys and girls," added Warren in an undertone.
The Comments Page That Could Be YOU!
I hope everyone enjoyed this silly mess. My hope is that we can make this a yearly tradition, with other writers pitching in in the future. This story does take place some issues into the future--and you'll notice that there are some strong hints as to the adventures to come. Keep these hints in mind as the story of Vermillion's Heroes for the Common Man continue to unfurl.
And, of course, please tell me what you think.
