|Some of the following characters belong to Marvel. Kir is
very much mine. We're talking legal copyright here. The rest is Homer's but he's dead now. There's some blood and
gore in this. I'm not profiting by this.
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SC: An Approximation of Everything
And yea did dawn with her rosy fingers rise again
Without any cognizant rhyme or meter in place
But first let us relate to you deeds of great valor
Horror and Silliness amongst the late hours of the Subreality
Be it known that if ye seek fearsome tails of rosy hares and sandles
Or greater tales of convolution and multiplicity known as RRs
This tale will be less than pleasing. Only the stout
Of the greater kind than fermented juices may turn a captive ear
And listen to a myth of lost time, evil beasts, bloody battles
To amorphous and passing death.
Far above and beyond in a world of magnificent and wondrous
Such as cars and computers, CDs and other magicks
The godly Narr -- short for Narrator -- master of all she
Eyes blazing did witness impudence among the lesser immortals
And their petty gods, Daevis, Lohbadael and gnarlish Har-Az
Who lived in a crumbling palace on a decay'd isle past the Sinister
And from their evil deeds arose rebels and warriors of bravery and
Fashioning a greater hidden kingdom of light and dark, dreams and not
A multitude of golems in which they breath'd life and named
To surge forth and rend and tear at the impudent ones
Freeing their enslaved subjects. Alas, might of the pen, flash of the
Did they struggle in vain unheeded a crushing tide of moldering
Striking them down.
Within the oomphalos there grew a commotion so that the
And their kindred of equal self, Man-Ager did shout unto the
Yet, unheeded were they for fearsome monsters had the Fiktives
Wreaking Havok among all unsuspecting travelers. Narr, espying
Did send forth an Avatar engendered with all her whim and great
To slay the fiends and unravel the Tapesty of deceit.
The dark winds did howl upon the skyless vault of this lesser
The Avatar, fiendish as the winds herself, did growl and gnash her
In anticipation of great bloodshed and victory. Gauntlets she
strapped to her legs and arms,
a breast plate of the finest kevlar wrapped her from neck to hip
And helm of macaroni hat she set upon her crown. Drawing her
Forged by Spock of the greater Heavens, from the purest Forces of
And hefting her Shield forged of simple Inanity in the realm of sleep
Shoved past the man at arms, truly for she was the messenger of
and strode black clock flowing, past the bone crushing doors into the
Establishment of Hades.
And therein rose a bloodcurdling sight of foully feathered
Screeching in unknown tongues and besmearing the misfortunate
With vast quantities of Rouge. Flocking together the chittered and
Swooping upon unsuspecting Gamb Its in great flocks tearing
The brightly colored men limb from limb and littering their
On the heads of praying prisoners trapped within. Seeing the
the praying rose to their feet clamoring for mercy, one brightly
Standing apart beseeched,
"Distant traveler, we know not who you are or from whence you
But I see that you come armed with a mighty sword and shield
Towering above all others berobed in ornate mien and fearsome of
As the old gods are my witnesses, you have been sent to free us
The menace and scourge of the Rouges. Only, if a small token of aid
may I lend,
Beware their feather boas."
Yea, the Avatar nodded solemn for she well knew the mischief of
serpents who wished to fly
Leaping into the fray, sword drawn arced over her head, she gave a
mighty battle cry
The Rouges hissed a unanimous *Shoog Gaahhh* and whirled with evil
But our hero slung her sword in great loops, whistling the air with
And fury, rending the foul beasts into gouts of gangrenous flesh and
Enraged the remaining flock plummeted with malice gleaming in their
One harpy did strike our hero on the crown but becoming entangled
in the macaroni
Wheeled through the air striking a second and the Avatar gave a
Skewering a third like a strip of barbecue and becoming like a
Tore through the remaining lot winning great honor and valor.
She stumbled to a finish and amidst the bloody trapping and
Saw a wooden sarcophagus tightly latched with adamantine nails
Through lid to sides. Verily, what nameless horror could be so
It was bound such a way?
Striking the cowards way came a bright flash of blinding light
As luck would have, grazed off her shield of Inanity and she saw that
The timbers of the roof so she crouched behind her shield with faith
For there in front of her was a Mighty Sy-Klops roaring and
At the mouth like the three headed dog Cerebrus. And Sy-Klops,
The minor -- very minor -- infamy of our hero cried out,
"Come little hero, show yourself or are you as cowardly as all the
Tis only I, Sy-Klops, son of Ekgsahvear, crusher of wolverines,
And rightful husband and lord of Phoenix."
Alas, with those fateful words there was a blinding light, greater
than the magicks
of Sy-Klops and there appeared a falcon of deadly flame paralyzing
all who witnessed her
And she spoke louder than the greatest hero so that all of Hades
And Sy-Klops fell to his knees in womanish anguish and shook
For he had done wrong. And the Phoenix, his celestial wife did speak,
"You chauvinistic poppycock! How dare you speak so lowly of me
Daring to command me as your wife? Am I not the destroyer of
And Suns? Did I not reincarnate as only the true immortals can?
Did I not bake the best egg soufflé known in human
Be gone churlish oaf! I banish ye to the Couch!" And there was a
So that where Sy-Klops had stood there was only ash and the
Awoke as if from a terrible dream.
Barely has she time to catch her breath before another paired
Appeared from the shadows a man and woman together the faint
Distortion of corruption about them and our hero saw then that
These two were the bastard offspring of the Unnamed ones and a lesser
A square for the chest, rectangular limbs, triangles for knees, jaw
And a hexagonal monstrosity for a head was the man Angle. Beside was
Liz, blank and slack-jawwed, slime dribbling idiot who approached
Like one undead, a risen corpse.
Astute Avatar, black cloak flapping, drove her sword forged of the
Beheading the abomination. Striking, Angle drove her to a knee,
forcing back ten paces
Til muscles burned and our hero gave a great roar, lunging upwards
Sword against bent wing both fought, neither giving nor gaining
Till Destiny intervened loosening a cane at Angle so that he stumbled
and fell but briefly
Long enough for the Avatar to strike him at the juncture of head and
So that he too fell before our hero's prowess.
Bent with exhaustion, aching to Marrow of bone and weary of
The Avatar rested against a tipped bench but wary still for
From further cloned monstrosities. Discerning none, she sought out
Lost amidst the wreckage and sea of gore seeing it past the Stage
Which she had overtaken while in the heat of battle.
Unaware, our hero drifted towards the state, navigating passed the
Of broken parts and careful lest she slip and be sucked under
The faint melodies and tune of song drifted to her ears enchanting
Grasping the soul with deadly gossamer hooks so that her mind lost
And she ceased motion to listen so that a terrified hush fell from
her fellow warriors
As it seemed her will would be sabotaged but as if a godly hand had
The Avatar slipped and fell, striking her head so that her ears
And the music fell mute.
Unmolested further, she approached the wooden sarcophagus
Hefting her sword forged in the heavens one last time
She struck soundly the rusted adamantine latches so that sparks
As the entire coffin shook creaking fibers and ancient dust
Lid thrown back to reveal -- The Avatar reeled, fumbling for her
Lashing down but the blade was caught by a gloved hand.
"What in sam hill is going on here and why are you trying to kill
Criminey, who are all you folks?" The woman Rogue sat and held her
In mortal agony as she saw that there were lesser versions of
In romantic attachment, delegated idiocy and a handful quite mad
Gathered in one corner. Gazing confused at the shambles and
Surrounding her, she arose from her early grave into the arm of lost
Who greeted her heartily.
Logan the Feral, the smallest mightiest warrior did congratulate
And Razputen lifted her high on his shoulders speaking in a foreign
And a woman of the lower kingdom with flowing white lockes gave
While the Gamb It who had spoken for the other warriors welcomed her
Though she did resist and demand explanation whereupon a strange
Of deadly grace, golden tresses and royal robes took her aside
To explain the repulsive manner of inferior clones.
From the corner, there came a murmuring
As a long standing Rogue clone did whine in protest
"But it's not mah fault! Ah can't help being a pathetic bitch!"
And our hero did reply, in made up sign language, "But why?"
Flummoxed and bewildered as a lemming at a cliff
The Rogueling beat her chest and wailed,
"Ah don't know! Ah can't...Ah can't...it's too hard to think
that hard. Mah brain's too small, shrunken by bad writing."
Verily, did her arms flail and her head explode.
"Ewwww," complained all present in chorus with true Rogue
Who blearily rubbed her eyes and worked at a crick in her neck
Asked she, "who was that foul imposter who mimicked my guise
But carried the manners of a child and manic sophite?"
"She was you, you...you fake! Ah'm the real Rogue!"
Speaker revealed was a woman in chamois and violet
Of bespiked hair and wild angry eyes. "Ah'll kill you!
Ah'll kill you all! Only Ah have the right to judge!
Ah mean...Ah didn't do it! Ah would nevah hurt a fly!
Oh Gambit....Oh God, what have Ah done?" And she too fell
To weeping and wailing til her head did also explode
Met by the relieved sighs of the amassed Gamb Its.
And there was feasting and rejoicing. Whole meat patties were
braised in lard
And roasted over barred shelves and fine mead and ale was drunk from
While jesters entertained, racers raced, boxers boxed and all that
sort of thing
For the entire night through.