jeriendhal: (Wazagan)
Dr: Threat

Dr. Illuminati

Dr. Heck.

and today: Dr. Collector.

I swear the Maryland State Super Villain Association must have a terrific health plan.
jeriendhal: (Wazagan)
Yes, it's a crossover between the live-action television version of The Incredible Hulk and The Andy Griffith Show. No, I don't know why.

Set four years after the events of Return to Mayberry

* * *

North Carolina, 1990
Population 7,550

The last of David’s money, save for five dollars, had paid for the bus trip from Raleigh to this little town. He knew he should have walked or hitchhiked to avoid paying a fare, but the urge to get as far away from the city had been too much to ignore. Too close that time, he thought to himself. And while little towns had their own share of difficulties for him, at least it was a shorter distance to reach the road again.

The Greyhound bus sighed to a halt and the doors slid open. No station here, just a bench with a green painted corrugated awning over it, next a large shady oak tree at the edge of the town square. A young woman stepped out, waving to an older couple that waited by the tree , obviously her parents. David slipped out behind her, shouldering his knapsack, the only luggage he carried, with his spare clothes, shaving kit, and an extra pair of cheap sneakers. If there was a Goodwill store in this town he’d have to get another pair as soon as he could afford it.

David looked up and down the street. A man with thinning red hair was approaching from down the street, pulling a wagon filled with stacked newspapers, a cheerful looking red haired boy of maybe four years age walking beside him and chattering happily. David smiled slightly at the sight and turned away, only to bump straight into the police officer.

“Hey there!” the officer shouted. He was short, skinny man, barely over 5 and a half feet in height, a high peaked hat sitting on his balding head, with protuberant eyes and a prominent Adam’s apple. Recovering quickly he stood up straight, hooking his thumbs in his gun belt, looking over David suspiciously. “New in town, eh?” he asked, his voice too high pitched to manage a growl.

“Er, yes officer,” David said, backing up a step as he silently cursed his luck. He hadn’t even been in town for five minutes before bumping into the Law. And these little towns, especially in the South, always had something ugly underneath them, usually starting with a corrupt sheriff that had been in place since before the Voting Rights Act.

Wellllll you be careful,” the officer drawled. “I’m Deputy Fife, and I keep an eye on new folks who come into town.” He tugged on his gun belt with his thumbs, then kept tugging, looking down in dismay as the right one got stuck in his belt loop.

“You okay, Barney?” the red headed man asked, coming up beside them.

“Oh, hey Opie, hey Junior. Yep, just greetin’ this stranger here,” Deputy Fife replied amiably, still tugging futility at his belt. The little boy giggled, while his father reached over and disentangled the older man from his predicament. “Thanks, Ope.” He turned back to David, waggling his finger. “I’ll be watching you,” he stated, before turning away and walking off with a Bantam strut.

“Uncle Barney’s silly!” the boy stated.

His father grinned. “He sure is.” Turned back to David, he stuck out his hand. “Opie Taylor. Welcome to Mayberry.”

“Oh, hello. I’m David. Er, Belsen, David Belsen,” David shook hands briefly, Opie looking at him with considerably more friendliness than the deputy.

Opie grinned. “Good to meet you, David. Don’t mind, Barney. He always hangs around when the bus comes in. I think he gets bored sometimes.” He spoke to his son. “Hey, Junior. Want to give David a paper?”

“Sure!” Junior took the top newspaper off the pile in the wagon, handing it to David. “The Mayberry Gazette,” the boy announced proudly. “The best paper this side of Mount Pilot!”

“Thank you,” David told him, fishing in his pocket for a quarter.

“Naw, the first issue’s free,” Opie said, waving him down. “$1.50 a week, $2.00 if you want the Sunday edition.”

“I’ll think about it,” David carefully. “Though I do thank you, I was going to get a copy anyway and check the want ads.”

“Looking for work?” Obie asked.

“Yes,” he admitted.

“Can you drive? I always need somebody to deliver papers.”

“I, uh, don’t have a license right now,” he admitted. At least not in David Belsen’s name.

“Know anything about computers, like WordPerfect?”

David nodded. “A bit, yes.” Most home computers were pretty easy to use in comparison to, say, a hospital CAT scanner, he’d found.

“Terrific,” Opie said eagerly. “I bought this fancy new system to do all the page layouts and I can’t make heads nor tails of it. Tell you what, you find yourself a place to stay and then come over to my office. It's right down on the corner. By the time you get settled I should be done delivering the afternoon edition and we can talk.”

“Thank you,” David said sincerely. “Do you know a good place to stay?”

“Well there’s the YMCA three blocks down, or Mrs. Mendelbright's boarding house on Elm St.”

“Thank you. I’ll check out the Y. Good to meet you, Mr. Taylor.”

Taylor laughed. “Just Opie. My pa’s Mr. Taylor. Well, Sheriff Taylor.”

“Sheriff Taylor?” David asked cautiously.

“Yep.” Opie waved cheerfully and started pulling his wagon again. “See you around, David. Welcome to Mayberry!”

“Thanks,” David said, nonplussed, still wondering if coming to this sleepy looking town was a good idea or not.
jeriendhal: (Wazagan)
Just an excerpt from an Elseworlds story I've had bouncing in my for a couple of years, set during WWII, as an answer to a really terribly racist Batman serial that Columbia Pictures released in 1943.

Cut for period appropriate racism )
jeriendhal: (Mayhem)
So, assuming Bruce is eternally 35 in any baseline DC continuity, and his parents murder occurs when he was 8 as per the usual canon, that means the defining event happened in 1988, assuming "now" is 2015.

Exactly how many more Crisis reboots are going to happen before there's a storyline centered around Alfred's criminal levels of parental neglect for failing to get young Master Bruce proper psychological counseling after his trauma?
jeriendhal: (Wazagan)
So what do you call a fanfic based off a webcomic based off an out of copyright Superman cartoon?

Me neither.

Inspired by Brian Fies' webcomic The Last Mechanical Monster.

The Last Mechanical Monster and related concepts, characters, and images are copyright Brian Fies and used here without permission.

Story behind the cut. )
jeriendhal: (Wazagan)
Scene: The Chez Ritz, the fanciest restaurant in Gotham City. Harvey Dent is sitting at a table with a raven haired woman at his side. Harvey gets up to greet Bruce as he approaches.

Harvey: Bruce! Good to see you. Out of uniform for once?

Bruce (smiling): I'm off duty, Harvey. For once. Who's this?

Harvey: Let me introduce you. Bruce Wayne, this is Selina Kyle, the socialite and environmental advocate. Selina, this is Bruce Wayne, the best uniformed cop in the GCPD.

Selina: A pleasure.

(They all sit.)

Bruce: Selina Kyle? Ah, the sponsor of the new panther reserve down in Florida. I thought I'd heard of you.

Selina; I should hope so. The Wayne Foundation contributed 20% of the funding for that project.

Bruce: I think you're right. Sorry, I'm afraid my police work keeps me from being directly involved in the Foundation's decisions.

Harvey: Don't believe him, Selina. Bruce keeps his hand in. Actually between being a cop, CEO of Wayne Corp. and and watching over his family's charity foundation, I'm not sure when he sleeps.

Bruce (looking concerned): I'm not the one who needs to worry about his sleep. You look ragged out, Harv.

Harvey (frowning and rubbing his temple): I've been getting headaches when I sleep. Bad ones. My doctor says I need to reduce my stress. I told him I'll be a lot less stressed when Sal Moroni stops sending hit men after me.

Bruce: Hmm. I'll snoop around a little. Maybe if I can "persuade" one of Moroni's goons to make a move on me, I can arrest him and get some information about his boss's next move.

Harvey: Jesus, Bruce. Don't do anything like that. The GCPD has few enough good cops as it is. I can't afford to lose you.

Bruce: We can't afford to lose you, Harvey. I'm just a beat cop. You're the first clean DA Gotham has had in decades.

Harvey: You're more than just a beat cop, Bruce. I wish you'd stop pretending otherwise.

Bruce (irritated): You think I'm wasting my time with this?

Harvey (holds up a hand to stop Bruce): I'm saying that I know two cops in this city that are completely clean, you and Lt. Gordon. And maybe Bullock, depending which day of the week it is. I can't trust anyone else, Bruce. (turns to Selina) Sorry, dear. I mean on the force.

Selina (concerned): I know what you meant. (checks her watch) Ah! I have to meet with panther reserve's board of regents. I'm sorry, love.

Harvey (kisses her briefly): Go on, sweetheart. I'll talk to you later.

(they watch her go)

Bruce: Lovely woman.

Harvey: Yeah. I'm going to ask her to marry me next week, after we wrap up the Fries trial.

Bruce: Really? Congratulations!

Harvey: She hasn't said "yes" yet. (beat) I'm scared to death.

Bruce: That she might turn you down?

Harvey: That she agrees to marry me. I've got a target on my forehead, Bruce. She will too if we're together.

Bruce: Don't worry about that. I've got you're back, Harv.

(he holds out his hand, They shake.)

Harvey: Same here, Bruce. Same here.
jeriendhal: (Wazagan)
Gotham Correctional Administration

Parole Hearing for Joseph Chill

February 23rd, 201-

“Good afternoon. I'm Officer Bruce Wayne. Twenty-five years ago, the man before you today murdered my father, Thomas Wayne, and my mother, Martha Wayne, in front of my eyes. They were each shot twice with a .38 caliber revolver, for the pearls my mother wore around her neck. I was eight years old. No child should lose their parents like that.

Never )
jeriendhal: (Mayhem)
So Meg Sveryud wrote a little comic based off my Best Buds scriplet and has kindly given me permission to repost it.

Cut for film spoilers )
jeriendhal: (Wazagan)

This was a request by Naziha Zahed, for something she could practice her comic skills on.

Same Beginning, Different Direction )

jeriendhal: (Wazagan)
Scene: Captain Gordon's office. Again. Wayne is standing at attention in front of Gordon's desk. Again.

Gordon: Congratulations on foiling that bank robbery attempt, Sgt. Wayne.

Wayne: Thank you, sir.

Gordon: (unamused) Amazing how you just happened along.

Wayne: I won't claim credit for precognition, sir. I saw the two of the suspects involved the day before. They appeared to be casing the bank, but I didn't have any grounds to arrest them at that time.

Gordon: And you didn't see fit to notify me either.

Wayne: I didn't see the point in putting something into my daily report that might not add up to anything..

Gordon: But you did see fit to make sure you were near the bank when things went down.

Wayne: Yes, sir. I would like to point out that I called for backup immediately.

Gordon: And by the time they arrived you had subdued all the suspects. Bare handed.

Wayne: I did have my tonfa, sir.

Gordon: (starts rubbing his temple) Sgt. Wayne, there's this thing hanging off your belt called a “gun”. You might want to consider the idea of using it occasionally.

Wayne: Captain, I have drawn my weapon in the past when I thought it necessary.

Gordon: But you've never fired it.

Wayne: No, sir.

Gordon: Wayne, don't get cute with me. You've been involved in more confrontations with armed suspects than any five other officers in the Major Crimes Unit. But somehow you never shoot anyone. Why?

Wayne: (hesitiating slightly) Sir, I have a thing about guns.

Gordon: I'm aware of your background, Wayne. But the murder of your parents by an armed thug has nothing to do with the use of a weapon by an officer of the law. This isn't London and you're not a bobby. You're permitted, no, required to use your gun when needed for the safety of the public or yourself.

Wayne: I understand that, sir. But guns are something you can't walk away from. They only have one purpose, to kill. You can't use one and then step back and say “Sorry, I made a mistake.” Bones will heal if they're broken, but a gunshot wound will definitely kill if the shooter knows what they're doing. And I do.

(cont.) I'm lucky in that I have superior hand-to-hand combat training than your average officer. I much prefer to use those skills in a confrontation.

Gordon: (resigned) Duly noted. I talked to your hand-to-hand trainer at the police academy. He says with your level of ability you looked like you were trained by a ninja.

Wayne: Thank you, sir.

Gordon: That was a joke, Wayne. (beat) You weren't were you?

Wayne: Am I required to answer that question, Captain?

Gordon: (holding his head in his hands) No, Sgt. Dismissed.

(as Wayne turns and walks out) I have a headache...
jeriendhal: (Wazagan)
Scene: A UHF television studio in Gotham. Wayne, smiling slightly, is watching from the side as Jack (this universe’s version of the Joker) dressed as a Jack Sparrow expy, addresses a studio of full of happy young children.

Narration: WGC Studios, 7:58am, Liaison with parolee.

Jack: Well kids, looks like it’s time for ol’ Captain Clown to sail back home!

Children: Awww!

Jack: But don’t be sad, I’ll be here tomorrow! Same Clown Time, same Clown Channel! Goodbye!


Jack takes a bow and heads off stage, meeting Wayne.

Jack: Hey there, Officer Friendly! So glad you could make it!

Wayne: (amused) Hi , Jack. Looks like you’re enjoying your new job.

Jack: You bet! It’s been great! All these years trying to be a comedian and it seems I’ve been talking to the wrong audiences. Turns out, when you’re talking to eight-year olds, the cornier your jokes are, the better!

Wayne: Great to hear. But you said you had something important you wanted to tell me?

Jack: Oh, yes! I owe you so much, getting this job for me, and giving a good word to the parole board, that I wanted you to be the first to hear the good news.

Moves in closer to whisper melodramatically

(cont.) I’m getting married! My therapist and I were getting so well that I decided to take a chance and pop the question, and she said YES!.

Wayne: (shakes Jack’s hand) Congratulations, Jack. I’m sure you and Dr. Young will be very happy together….

* * *

“Captain Clown” refers to one of the odder one shot villains from Batman: TAS an android used by the Joker in the episode The Last Laugh.

Dr. Young appeared as a regretful (and soon dead) ally of the Joker in the video game, Batman, Arkham Asylum. Given their mutual interest in chemistry and her questionable medical ethics, this might not be a good thing….
jeriendhal: (Wazagan)
Establishing Shot: The sun is rising over Gotham Bay, illuminatng Wayne Manor as it looms on its bluff overlooking the city.

Bruce (offscreen): Yes, Captain Gordon. I understand the seriousness of the situation.

Bruce opens his mouth and sticks his foot in it. )
jeriendhal: (Muppets)
Georgia: (watching MST3K on YouTube with Daddy) "Why is everything in black and white?"

Daddy: "Well honey, this was before colors were invented. Everyone looked like that."

Mommy: "Daddy!"
jeriendhal: (Sporfle)
And I was impressed that [ profile] jimhines took the time to mention that yes, libriomancers can pull items from RPG supplements like they can from novels. And that Gutenberg locks them down as fast as he can.

Which is a real pity because GURPS Ultra Tech would be damned useful to have around.

Now I wonder if you can do the same thing for comic books....
jeriendhal: (WTF)
April 21st 2014 will be the 10th anniversary of Doonesbury character B.D. finally taking his helmet off.
jeriendhal: (Wazagan)
Thomas and Martha Wayne, devastated after their young son Bruce's death in a robbery attempt gone wrong, adopt a young orphan baby recently found floating in a steel cylinder in Gotham Bay. Clark grows up a civic minded and fabulously wealthy individual, while WayneTech busies itself examining and reverse engineering the technology found in his spaceship...
jeriendhal: (Muppets)
Has Deadpool ever fought Squirrel Girl?

Or worse, have they ever teamed up?
jeriendhal: (Chicken)
Premise: Random Reporter asks Steve Rogers "What's your opinion on abortion?" Hilarity culture shock ensues.

One can assume Steve got a thick FAQ and orientation classes along the lines "Your Handy Guide to the 21st Century", but he couldn't possibly be prepared for everything. OTOH if his SHIELD handlers had an ounce of sense, they'd have advised him to have an answer for that question, not to mention a plan for when every tea party and other right wing group in the country tries to co-opt his patriotism into their vision of how America should be.

Personally, I think he'd take a fallback position on the first question along the lines of "Not being a woman, I can't answer that." I can't imagine he'd have a very high opinion of the heirs of Father Conklin either.

Anyway, its way too political for me to write it.

September 2017

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