King Fralboneezer sat on his large golden throne and peered out the window at the huge blue and white orb spinning below. He grinned a slimy smile, drool falling from vicious white fangs and sizzling wickedly on the metal floor. He rubbed his fingers together in a methodical and thoughtful way, contemplating what that spinning orb down below meant to him. Just another toy, he thought, that the richest man in the galaxy could afford to buy.

Earth Sale

by Long Haired Hippy Freak & Doom Bunny

Bill sat and watched the news. He didn't particularly care for the news, but at this instant it seemed to be on every channel at once. So, he sat back and listened to the idiots who had pre-empted The A-Team.

"A large golden ship has landed in the parking lot of the UN building this afternoon," said a beautiful blonde reporter in the short black skirt. "A large humanoid, approximately five feet tall and weighing close to 300 pounds, observers said, exited the craft with an entourage of roughly 3,000 other humanoid creatures, all fancily dressed and playing strange musical instruments. The procession made its way into the front lobby and began demanding to see who was in charge so that he could tell them they weren't in charge anymore."

"What are you watching, Bill?" asked The Guardian as he sat back on the couch next to Bill with a fresh bag of Cheez Dootles™.

"Oh, something about a bunch of alien creatures who came smashing down into the United Nations parking lot this afternoon. Apparently, they believe they have just recently purchased the Earth."

"Can they do that?" asked The Guardian, intrigued. "Who did they buy it from?"

"Well, as far as I can tell, this tremendously fat alien claims to be the new ruler of Earth. He's trying to convince everyone else of that fact, too."

"Shouldn't the Corps try to stop him?"

"I think the people at the UN are trying to verify this guy's claim before they start kicking his ass. But I bet it's not too long before the Corps is sent to deal with them."

"Hey, you fucking lousy guards! What the hell are you doing in there? Having a fucking convention or something? There's somebody out on the front lawn who looks kind of suspicious, so fucking get out there and kick him the hell off of our property, okay you fucks?"

It was Captain Dick's voice coming from over the loud speaker. The Guardian got up and headed for the door, feeling obligated to remove the trespasser, since he was the guard for the Corps Headquarters. He opened the front door and looked out. It was a man in a three piece suit, nice tie and a heavy briefcase. As soon as he saw The Guardian open the door, he was in the threshold. His hand was extended and he was desperately trying to shake The Guardian's hand as he casually maneuvered his way into the entry.

"How you doing, my good man - Pleased to meet you, really, pleased to meet you - Let me introduce myself to you, my friend - Name's Sherman, Sherwood F. Sherman - Glad to meet you, really glad to meet you - Nice place you have here - Nice front lawn too - And, hey, who's your friend on the couch. . ."

The Guardian was so thoroughly confused by this man's constant babble that he forgot about not letting him in. He shut the door and introduced the man to Bill.

"Pleased to meet you," said Bill around a mouthful of Cheez Doodles™, never once taking his eyes from the TV.

"Hey, I see you're watching the exciting action live from the UN, hunh, boys - That's exactly what I'm here to talk to you about." And before either The Guardian or Bill knew what the man was talking about, he had whipped open his briefcase and pulled out a large bundle of papers. "That there on the TV is your new boss, fellas," said the fast talking man pointing to the television. On the screen was an immensely fat humanoid. He was dressed in bright red flowing robes and wearing a heavily ornamented golden crown. He carried a beautiful ivory scepter and smiled a slimy smile to the crowd.

"That there is King Fralboneezer. He is your boss, or, well, would have been your boss if he had decided to keep you. Here are your eviction papers," Sherman said, handing Bill and The Guardian a large stack of papers. "The King would like you gone by say, um, nine tomorrow morning. If you're not, you'll be sued and arrested and probably worse considering King Fralboneezer has brought with him your replacements."

"Replacements?" questioned The Guardian as he tried to make sense of the papers in front of him.

"Well, this planet is the home of the Galactic Hero Corps and King Fralboneezer has just bought this planet, along with all the rights to the Galactic Corps members, too. So, if you'll just sign these papers, and get the rest of the members to sign too, and of course be on your way when your done, everything should be fine."

"What's this part mean?" asked The Guardian, pointing to a small section in the middle of one of the papers.

"Oh, well, seeing as how the King has bought out all rights to The Galactic Hero Corps, none of you can use your super-hero names without a copyright infringement. You'll all have to change your names, or we'll have to sue." He smiled a helpful smile and blinked his eyes.

"You mean, nobody can call me Bill," Bill asked.

"No way, not unless you want a couple hundred Bergonian Lawyers breathing down your neck." The man stood up and closed his briefcase. The Guardian walked him to the door. "Oh, and be sure to tell the others, we'd rather not have too much of a hassle moving you out and the others in."

"The others?" asked Bill.

"Yeah, King Fralboneezer's Galactic Holiday Hero Troop."

"Why the fuck didn't you kick his fucking piece of shit ass, you good for nothing fucking call yourselves guards piece of shits! Fuck! You two aren't worth shit! Fucking Bill, you can't. . ."

"You're not allowed to call me Bill anymore."

Captain Dick just stood there with his mouth half open, looking at Bill in stunned silence. "It's your FUCKING name!" he roared.

"I know, but it says right here," said Bill pointing to a bundle of legal papers in his hand, "We can't use anything related to the Galactic Hero Corps in any way or we'll get sued."

"Fuck getting sued! Who the fuck does this fat assed alien think he is anyway, fucking shithead!" Captain Dick stormed around the room and sat down.

His ass hit the floor with a loud thunk.

"Where the fuck is my chair?!" he screamed from the floor. He looked around. "Where the fuck is my desk? Where the fuck is my computer? Where the fuck is anything?"

"Um, the movers were here at six to load up the U-Haul."

"FUCK!"

"Well, Captain Di. . ., I mean, um, well, um, I have to go now. It's almost nine and I don't cared to get sued by a bunch of Bergonian Lawyers. Bye." Bill left Captain Dick alone on the floor.

"FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK. . ."

About five after nine, a fat man in a red and white suit with a long white beard came walking into the room.

"Well, hohoho, who do we have here?" he chuckled jollily. "Move that right in here, please." He motioned to a couple of muscled men as they struggled to stuff a large desk through the door. He extended a black gloved hand. "Santa Claus, head of King Fralboneezer's Holiday Hero Troop, new guardians of the galaxy. Who might you be?"

Captain Dick sat on the floor. "The name is Captain Dick and I'M the head of the Galactic Hero Corps, THE guardians of the entire universe, you FAT FUCK, GET THE HELL OUT OF MY OFFICE YOU BIG HAIRY PIECE OF SHIT." Captain Dick jumped up from the floor, saliva flying from his mouth as he lost all of his control, or at least, what little control he ever had. "YOU LOOK LIKE A GREAT BIG FAT LOSER! WHAT KIND OF IDIOT DRESSES UP LIKE SANTA CLAUS TO FIGHT EVIL YOU MORON. I HOPE YOU GET YOUR ASSES KICKED, REAL FUCKING BAD, YOU FUCKING PIECE OF FUCKING CRAP!"

"Anything wrong in here, SC?" came a cool voice from behind Santa.

"Hohoho, well, I think this ex-Captain Dick is trying to start trouble. He's been using some very naughty words. I think he needs to be taught a lesson, Easter Bunny."

A very large man dressed in a velvet white bunny outfit stepped out from behind Santa Claus. Captain Dick froze in terror.

"Uh. . . Duh. . . Uh. . . I . . . Duh. . . Um. . ." Captain Dick sputtered. The rabbit grabbed him by the skin of his neck and carried him out of the room. As he was leaving he asked, "Should we file charges on him for using the names 'Captain Dick' and the 'Galactic Hero Corps?'"

"No, hohoho, just give him a warning. I'm sure he'll change his naughty ways." The rabbit started out of the room again. "Oh, but kick his ass first, I'm sure it will help him learn."

"Yes sir."

Captain Dick tried to break out of the grasp of Easter Bunny. But the trauma that had engulfed him upon seeing the bunny had not left him. He felt as weak as anybody would in the clutches of a giant rabbit.

As he was carried down the hallway, he looked around frantically for someone to help him. Every one had left. All of the furniture had started being replaced, and a new group of people had started milling around the living room. As Easter Bunny carried Dick out the front door, they passed a man in a long black coat, white shirt, and black hat, who had two long locks of hair dangling down next to each of his ears.

Captain Dick looked up at the rabbit inquisitively.

"Oh him?" the rabbit nodded in the man's direction. "That's Passover." The Easter Bunny nodded at Passover and walked out on to the front lawn. "Now, remember, stop going by the name 'Captain Dick.'" He punched Captain Dick squarely in the nose. Blood began pouring down Dick's face. The rabbit dropped him and squealed, dodging out of the way of the flow of blood. "Now get out of here, you pathetic loser!" The Easter Bunny kicked Captain Dick in the ass as Captain Dick ran from the rabbit and away from Headquarters.

Bill got up from the couch when he heard the knock on the door. Captain Dick was standing in the hall.

"Bill, where are. . ."

"My name is Sam."

"Uh, okay, Sam, where are the others? We've got to find them so we can stop this King Fralboneezer!"

"Why? Jack -" Bill motioned to the Guardian who was sitting on the couch, " - and I are having a great time in our new apartment. We can watch television all day and don't have to stress over guarding the headquarters. This is the life."

"But how are you going to make a fucking living, you stupid waste? Where are you going to find a job?"

"A job?" asked Bill, perplexed. "Why would I need a job?"

"To pay rent!"

"Rent?"

"You know, rent. My God, you're an idiot! You have to pay rent to live in an apartment. Who owns this place?"

Bill shrugged. "I don't know."

"You don't know?"

"We were just walking by and heard the television. When we came up to the door and knocked, this lady answered. I said hi, and so did The - Jack. The lady seemed very surprised to see us here, especially Jack. She ran off screaming, I guess to go tell all her friends that we were moving in with her.

The conversation was interrupted by the sound of a police siren.

"Shit," cursed Captain Dick. "Let's get the hell out of here and find the others."

"But I already told you. . ."

"Come the fuck with me now. You too Guardian."

"His name's Jac. . ."

"I know what his fucking name is, you stupid fuck. Now let's get the hell out of here before we're all arrested."

Captain Dick knocked on the door of the small red brick house and shuffled his feet nervously. Bill and The Guardian stood behind him on the brick path, talking about how they hoped this place would have a television.

"Just a minute!" came an elderly lady's voice from behind the door as they heard the sound of chains being unchained and locks being unlocked. The door opened and an old lady stuck her head out, shifting her glasses so she could see better. She laid her eyes on Captain Dick and frowned. "Get out of here, you fucking good for nothing never come visit your poor old mother shit head fucking ugly I wish you'd never been born fucked up loser!" She slammed the door shut in his face.

"Mommy? Come on, its your own son."

The door opened again. "I know you're my son, you fucked up useless piece of moldy dog vomit! Why didn't I hear from you at Christmas?"

"But you did mother, you wouldn't let me in the house."

"Well that's because you didn't call me on Mother's Day."

"But I did call. You hung up on me when -"

"Goddamn it I know! Don't you tell me who I did and didn't see, you pathetic fuck. You really are a pathetic fuck, you know that?"

Captain Dick looked down at his feet. "Yes mother, I know that. I'm sorry."

"Well then get your pathetic asses in here, its cold outside. Make sure your loser friends don't get mud on my carpet."

"Do you have a television?" asked Bill as he entered the house.

"No, why the fuck would I need a television. All they ever fucking show on those things is sex and violence. I think it's fucking disgusting the way television carries on the way that it does." She continued to grumble as she walked into the kitchen. Bill and The Guardian wandered dejectedly into the living room, not sure what to do without a TV.

"This sucks. I wish we were back at headquarters," complained Bill as he plopped himself down in a plastic-covered chair.

"Don't sit in my chair, you mooching bastards. There are some fold-outs in the garage. Richard, get your friends some chairs already, you lazy fuck."

"Yes Mom." Captain Dick wandered out to the garage to gather up some chairs for the others.

When he was gone, Captain Dick's mom stuck her head out from the kitchen. "Would you boys like some cookies?" she asked.

Bill looked at The Guardian . "Uh, sure!"

Captain Dick came lugging two chairs into the room. "Fucking piece of shit bitching fucking nagging fucking whore. . . "

"What was that, you ungrateful bastard? Where did you learn that kind of language, you disrespectful shit! Now sit down and shut up."

Captain Dick sat down, looked at Bill and The Guardian, and shut up.

Four hours later, Bill was bouncing off the walls. "We have to get headquarters back, Richard. We just have to." He'd been whining since they got here and Captain Dick just couldn't stand it anymore.

"Okay, if you'll just fucking shut up! But first we have to find the others. And you have to start calling me Captain Dick."

"But we'll get sued."

"Who gives a fuck! If we get sued by the bastards, we'll just have to kick their asses. You and The Guardian start looking for the others, while I think of a plan."

"All right, we're going to get our TV back!" Bill jumped up, grabbed The Guardian and ran out the door.

Bill poked his head up over the gate back at Galactic Hero Corps Headquarters. The coast was clear, so he motioned The Guardian forward. The Guardian stepped over the fence and snuck to the front door. I wish Ranger Ruben was here, Bill thought. We have to make it to the computer room so we can locate the others with the Hero Corps Satellite. The Guardian motioned for Bill, and he hopped the fence and ran to The Guardian. We have to get to the TV.

Bill and The Guardian were standing on either side of the entrance to Headquarters as the door opened up and a giant groundhog shambled past down the walk. They ducked in the door, rolled, and came to a stop behind the television couch. At least, where the television couch used to be. It was gone. And so was the TV. Bill, still out in the open, sat shocked and mourning.

Where was the TV?

The Guardian picked Bill up and ran down the hallway toward the computer room. He ducked into the computer room just as a short fat man in blue and green tights came huffing around the corner. He was mumbling to himself as he ran.

"EarthGuy, savior of Earth Day, most important holiday on this planet, is off to save the galaxy once again, even though, being EarthGuy, and being on the planet Earth, he should be the leader of this Holiday Hero Troop, so that he can boss around that fat old Santa Claus and his kiss ass buddy, Mr. Valentine. But, since he's only a minor hero in the group, he'll just have to be content in his minor role, as the savior of the rest of these holiday heroes. Thank Hanukkah for King Fralboneezer!" He disappeared around the corner, never once laying eyes on The Guardian or Bill.

The Guardian sat Bill down in a chair in front of the computer terminal and slapped him across the face. Bill's head snapped back and his eyes flickered with comprehension.

"Where's the TV? Hunh Guard - uh, Jack - it's here somewhere, right?" Bill focused on the computer terminals and a gleam appeared in his eyes. "A TELEVISION!" He sat up and watched the blinking green words on the screen.

"Patty!" The voice of Santa Claus came booming cheerfully down the hall. "Find out what that noise was, hohoho."

"All right sir," an Irish voice could be heard in reply. "Me and my Shellaly will check it right out, by golly."

A green-clad figure wearing a top hat with a shamrock entered the computer room. "Jumpin' stars! What might you be?"

"I'm Sam," Bill responded. "And this here is Jack."

"And what holidays might you be?"

Thinking quick, the Guardian responded. "I... uh... represent Happy Day. And Bill, uh, I mean Sam here is from The Flower Festival Of The Spring."

"Well, purple horseshoes, I don't think I ever heerd of such holidays before, laddy. But I'm from a different planet and I ain't quite got em all figgered out yet. What ya doin' in here, Happy Jack?"

"Well, we're looking for, um, for wrongdoers! Yeah, we're monitoring crime right at this minute, right Sam?"

"Yeah, right Happy Jack. I think we found some, too. Let me just make a few notes here." Bill began scribbling down the information he needed.

"Ya need any help there, laddie? I can go with ye, if ye need some help?"

"No, that's all right," answered Bill, "We've got it under control."

"Okay, well, see you two around, then." Patty left the room.

"I got it! Let's go find the others so that we can get our TV back." Bill hopped up and ran excitedly out of the headquarters, The Guardian following.

"Those two aren't dressed up quite like I'd suspect," said Patty off-handedly.

"What two?" asked Santa Claus, sticking his head out of his office as Patty walked by.

"Oh, Happy Jack and Flowery Sam."

"Who?"

"The guys running the computer room."

"Patty, I think we've just had our first break-in. Alert the others!"

Bill and The Guardian returned to Dick's mom's house. After a few minutes of useless discussion, they were off to find more of their group. The plan that Captain Dick had devised for them had been simple: Go out and find more of the group. The man simply couldn't think straight unless he was busy yelling at people. From the constantly updated computer files, they had been able to locate the whereabouts of all the other members. The first one they decided to get was Nice Alice.

The three men entered Walmart and saw Alice immediately, acting as one of those useless Walmart greeters who have nothing more important to do but say: Welcome to Walmart, have a nice day; or: Thank you for shopping at Walmart, have a nice day.

"Welcome to Walmart," Nice Alice greeted. "Have a nice day."

"Nice Ali... , um, I mean, Kind-Hearted Alicia, we're here to save you from this boring existence. We have to get back our headquarters!"

Nice Alice looked at Bill, perplexed. "But headquarters has been sold, Bill."

"Shhhh!" Bill said. "Don't say that, we'll get sued!"

"Okay, but we can't get headquarters back either. It's been sold to the nice King, who bought it fair and square. I don't think we have any right to. . . uh, Bill, where are you going?"

Bill had seen the wall in the back of the store covered in TV sets. They were all showing the same program and blaring out the same sounds. It was heaven to Bill. As he approached, all the sets were interrupted by a special news bulletin.

"Former member of the former Galactic Hero Corps, Death Rock, is being sued for a couple of thousand cases of copyright infringement." A picture appeared in the upper right hand corner of dozens of televisions of Death Rock, a scowl across his face. "He has apparently refused to give up his name after King Fralboneezer bought all rights to the Galactic Hero Corps and refused any of the members to use any name associated with the group."

"Oh, no," gasped Nice Alice who had wandered up next to Bill. "We have to help poor Deathy! Forget that darn King and his gosh darn Hero Troop. You guys are my family, and I'm going to help!"

"All right," exclaimed Bill. "You guys go ahead, I'll meet you back here when you're done."

"No way, fuckhead, you're coming with us to get the rest of the group. Let's go, shitface." Captain Dick grabbed Bill by the scruff of the neck and dragged him out of Walmart with the others following.

Death Rock stood at the front desk of the Fralboneezer police station.

"You can't say Jovi don't suck and not expect to meet my duke!" he yelled at the sergeant.

The sergeant turned to a man who was holding a clipboard. "I'm sorry, that phrase is a registered trademark of The Galactic Hero Corps. How many are we up to now?"

The other man glanced at his clipboard. "4,368."

The 22 police officers who were holding Death Rock back were straining. They couldn't hold him much longer.

"Listen, Cinderella!" Death rock screamed. "Nobody controls my dukes but me! And don't you be telling me what I can say don't suck and what can. Else you'll be getting up close and personal with my dukes."

"He said the word 'dukes' two more times. Should I mark that down?" The man with the clipboard poised his pen.

"Definitely," the sergeant answered.

Suddenly, cops exploded all over the room. They flew in every direction, bouncing off the ceiling, the desk, the other cops.

"I knew you were all just a bunch of Jovi fans. Give me that!" Death Rock snatched the pen and clipboard from the man's grasp. "Jovi fan." He marked the pad. "Jovi fan." He marked the pad again. "Dukes." He marked the pad a third time. "Am I doing all right?" he asked the sergeant.

"Um, yeah," the sergeant replied nervously.

Just then the doors banged open and a trumpet blew. A red carpet rolled into the room, tread on by a tremendously fat man in a red cape and a gaudy gold crown. He approached Death Rock.

"So, you're the one causing me so much trouble, are you?"

"Yeah, and what are you going to do about it, Jovi?" Death Rock marked the pad again.

"I'm going to hire you to be a member of the Holiday Hero Troop."

"Fuck that!"

"A thousand dollars a week."

"You got a deal, Metal Head."

"Well then, from now on, no more Death Rock. From this day forward, as one of my grand Holiday Hero Troop Fighters, you will be known as Yom Kippur."

Santa Claus, Easter Bunny, Patty, Groundhog, EarthGuy, Mr. Valentine and Passover sat watching television in what used to be Captain Dick's office. A large man with a red cape entered the room. Santa Claus jumped up to greet his employer. Before the Hero of Christmas could utter a word, King Fralboneezer spoke.

"Here are some more recruits for you Santa. Let me introduce them to you one by one. First, we have Yom Kippur."

Death Rock stepped into the room. In his arms was a costume identical to Passover's.

"This is for wusses!" the disgruntled hero spoke. "I ain't wearing no wuss costume for no thousand bucks a week."

"Two thousand."

"Go to hell, Alternative!"

"Three thousand."

"Uh... "

"Four thousand."

"Okay, where do I change?"

"In the back." Death Rock trotted off grumbling about the costume. "Next, The Veteran, Hero of Veterans Day!" A man came limping into the room at the announcement of his voice. He was dressed in dirty, holey jeans and a ragged T-shirt. His face was covered by a scruffy beard and long dirty hair. He scowled at Patty and Passover as he walked in.

"This is America. I don't see why my holiday, a holiday for Americans, isn't celebrated like your Goddamn St. Patrick's day. A bunch of foreign alcoholics, that's what you are. Shit, you damn immigrants are ruining the country. I fought for freedom, man, freedom. You damn Irish have a history of running when the going gets bad. Fucking immigrants, man, fucking immigrants."

"Hey," spoke up EarthGuy, "let's not be racist. We're all one race here: the human race. Except most of us are from another planet, but still, we all live on Earth together; we should try to get along."

"Fat fuck," muttered The Veteran.

"Hey, now, let's all try to be civil. Holidays are supposed to be happy," beamed King Fralboneezer. "That's why I bought Earth. I just love its personality! No other planet in the universe celebrates such trivial days as these Earthlings. I want this to be fun, so no more fighting, okay? That's what the old Corps was like, and they just always brought me down. But now they'll never interfere with my happiness again, now that I bought them out."

"Um... pssst, King Fralboneezer?" came a voice from just outside the room.

"Oh yeah, I forgot the others. Well, let me introduce my next hero for the Holiday Hero Troop. I hope you guys all like him. I want you all to meet Soot."

"Soot?" the group asked collectively.

"Yeah," the King began. "You know, from Ash Wednesday. I was going to call him Charcoal at first, but then I thought it might piss off the Catholics.

"Damn right it would!" Patty declared.

"Shut up Patty," the King told him. "You're an alien, remember?"

"Oh yeah."

Soot walked over to the couch and sat down. A cloud of ash followed him and everybody began choking.

"Jesus Fucking Christ!" The Veteran yelled.

"You best be watching your language," Patty threatened.

"You don't even know what it means!" King Fralboneezer said.

"Yes, but those is fightin' words none the less. Pass me some o' yer whiskey."

"Will everyone just please calm down! This group is supposed to be fun! Damn, your ruining my mood!"

"Everybody listen to King Fralboneezer," commanded Mr. Valentine. "We have to join together in order to defeat evil in the universe." He looked at Santa Claus. "Right, Santa?" He gave him a thumbs up. Santa returned the thumbs up with a grin.

Death Rock walked into the room dressed in a dark coat, a dark hat, white shirt and two locks of hair trailing down the sides of his face.

"This costume definitely does not rock. Who is Yom Kippur, anyway? Is he anything like Yankee Doodle, cause Yankee Doodle, he rocked."

"I don't know," answered King Fralboneezer. "I just saw the name in a calendar and thought that everyone enjoyed the holiday. I'm sure you'll be very popular."

A six foot tall, 130 pound black man walked into the room. All he wore was a tiny diaper around his waist. "Yo, where you be wantin' Baby NewYear?"

"This sucks!" Death Rock yelled to nobody in particular. "This guy don't rock either."

"Now lets calm down," Fralboneezer said. "We want unity here."

"Hey jack," Baby NewYear said. "Didn't you hear me. I ain't gonna stand around all day."

"Yes, have a seat next to Soot."

Baby NewYear looked over to the dirty white man sitting on the couch.

"You gotta be shittin' me," said Baby NewYear looking down at King Fralboneezer. "That guy'll fuckin' dirty my diaper. Shit, I don't think this shit's worth it, man." He walked over to the couch, passing Death Rock on the way. "Nice beard, Jew." He chuckled.

Death Rock grabbed Baby NewYear by the back of the diaper and hefted him into the air. "You got a problem with me, pansy?"

"Hey, get your hands off my diaper, white boy!" Baby NewYear pulled a semi-automatic pistol from out of his diaper and shoved the muzzle up Death Rock's nose.

"All right, you are a rocker!" Death Rock put him down and threw an arm around his shoulder. "You're my kinda baby, dude."

The black man whispered to himself as he sat down. "Shiiiit."

King Fralboneezer cleared his throat. "We have one more Holiday Hero troop member to introduce to you. Please, lets give a warm welcome to Columbus."

A white individual in a 15th Century outfit stepped nobly into the room. He ignored the rest of the heroes and stood cleaning his fingernails in the corner.

"Good," the king began. "Now that everyone is here, for the time being, let me tell you about the group. As most of you know, I now own this planet, and thus I own whatever hero group is protecting it. I've known most of you for along time. Some of you are relatives, and others of you are simply close friends of mine. This is to insure a good camaraderie. Before I elaborate on that, let me give you each a pamphlet which tells you about your particular holiday."

King Fralboneezer began handing out the pamphlets as a mosquito landed on his arm. He waved it away nonchalantly and continued to pass out the packets.

"I'll prove to this court that my client, Mr. Smith, is not guilty of killing his mother in cold blood." The Stranger walked across to stare at the prosecutor. He stood before the table, leaning on it as he stared at the prosecutor. "You are totally wrong. Wrong, I say!" The Stranger slammed his fist down on the table. "My client is a good man!" He spun around with his arms in the air and looked at the jury out of the corner of his eyes. He heard them gasp. He had them going. "You!" He spun, pointing his finger at the prosecutor. "You are trying to prosecute an innocent man in the murder of his own mother, the mother he loved with all his heart! Imagine," he turned to the jury, "Killing your own mother. Could you do it? I'm willing to bet none of you could. None of you, except him!" He wheeled around pointing at the prosecutor. "Except him," he repeated.

A pitiful sob came from the defense table. "I... I can't go on. I did it! I killed my own mother! I hated her so much!"

The Stranger continued to point at the prosecutor. "And him... " he whirled around to point at his client. "I bet he could do something like that too. Yeah." The Stranger looked at his outstretched index finger for a second and then replaced it in his pocket as if it were a gun going into a holster. He walked over quietly, closed his briefcase, and left the courtroom.

"Where do you think you're going, counselor?" the judge could be heard saying before the door to the courtroom closed. Despite the discouraging resumption of his career, The Stranger still felt comfort as he could feel the fabric of his Daisy costume under his suit.

"There he is," screamed Bill. He ran over to The Stranger. "Come help us regain the television, Stranger!"

"And Headquarters," said Captain Dick. "We need a strategist, Stranger, and you're the man to do it." Captain Dick walked over and put his arm around The Stranger's shoulder. "We need you to make a plan to kick those idiot holiday jerk-offs out of our headquarters. It's us who should be protecting the fucking universe, and of course, should be accepting the check every week from the Universal Save The Universe Committee. What do you say?"

The Stranger looked back at the courthouse. He had had a pretty successful career as a lawyer when he wasn't a hero, but his mind was never happy defending the law. Now, defending mankind, no, universekind, that was a job for him. Make a plan to regain headquarters? He could do it!

"I'll do it Captain Dick! Who do we have together again?"

"Um, well, me and Bill and The Guardian and Nice Alice." Captain Dick looked over as he heard a moan from Bill.

"Man, we're gonna get sued, we're really gonna get sued." Bill shook with fear and looked to the sky, waiting for a Bergonian Lawyer shuttle craft to rocket down at any second.

The card table was set up in front of Waldenbooks. Grunion Guy sat behind it in a lawnchair. Photocopies of his latest novel laid under a chunk of concrete he'd found in the parking lot that he decided to use as a paperweight. Now that his hero career had seemingly been ended he had made up his mind to start writing full time. First, he decided that he had better at least get his name known a little bit in the writing world, so that was why he was sitting outside of Waldenbooks giving out free autographed copies of "An Adventurous Adventure."

"Would you like a copy of my book?" he asked a lady entering the store.

"Sure," the lady said excitedly. "But where are the books?"

"They're right here," he said as he took out a stapled copy from underneath the concrete. "Would you like it autographed?"

"No, that's all right."

"Hey!" a gruff voice said from behind them. "You don't have permission to be here. What kind of shit are you peddling here?" The Waldenbooks manager stood with his arms folded across his chest.

"I'm Grunion Guy," said Grunion Guy, thinking that this statement would answer the man. The man stood tapping his foot. "Um, I'm from The Galactic Hero Corps." Again, the man just stood there staring at him. Grunion Guy pulled out a copy of Sam Samson; Detective. "I'm a writer!" He smiled at the manager. The manager took the copy of Sam Samson and thumbed through it. His frown remained a frown.

"What is this shit? Get out of here, you idiot!" The manager of Waldenbooks tore up the stapled papers. "Get out of here, jerk." The man kicked over the table, knocking the concrete block to the ground; Grunion Guy's stories blowing away in the wind.

"You'll be sorry!" he screamed. "I'm going to be famous one day and I'll never allow my publisher to sell my books at your dumpy store! You're going to lose so much money." Grunion Guy stood up, desperately trying to catch one copy of his story, since he had typed it up at the library having lost his computer in the Corps Headquarters sale, and he had no hard copy of it. "This is my best work," he screamed, scrambling down the street trying to catch one of the copies. Halfway down the street, he bumped into The Guardian.

"Come on, Grunion Guy, we'll get your computer back for you, if you help regain Headquarters."

Grunion Guy looked up, watching his story blow away in the wind. He sighed, knowing he had lost something really special.

"Okay, Guardian, let's go."

The sign on the door said: Maynerd Shank, Speech Therapist.

"Okay," Maynerd said quietly. "One more time, say it with me -- 'ball.'"

"Unnnhhhhh," Super Mummy replied.

"No, 'ball'."

"Unnnnnhhhhh."

"No no no, you stupid freak. 'Ball!'"

"Unnnnnnnhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh."

"This is hopeless! Don't bother coming back tomorrow. I've been working with you for hours, and you're just not putting any effort into it. That will be $150. Pay on the way out."

Super Mummy left the office, and he paid the receptionist. The wind was cold as he stepped out onto the street. He wondered how many job opportunities there were for a retired super hero with experience as a pharaoh. He also wondered if his purple cape and crown would be a deterrent for employers. Oh well, at least he was confident with his people skills.

"Freak!" yelled someone from across the street.

"Weirdo!" yelled someone else from a passing car.

"Idiot!" screamed yet another pedestrian.

Super Mummy tried to ignore the comments. He couldn't defend himself, seeing as how he couldn't talk. A tear fell from his eye as he remembered back to the day he had been reborn.

Super Mummy opened his eyes. A man was standing over his crypt, his arms full of Super Mummy's own golden possessions. The man's eyes were opened wide in surprise, staring down at the moving dead man.

"Halt, infidel," moaned Super Mummy. At least, that is what he had wanted to moan. Instead, all he moaned was "Unnnnhhhh." Super Mummy began to stand, coming fully to life as the curse began to work; the curse that promised to wake him if any person ever came to rob his tomb. He began to pull himself out of his golden coffin as the man in the tomb dropped the gold and ran out of the crypt.

"Stop," yelled Super Mummy. Again, "Unnnhhhhh," was all that came out. Super Mummy lumbered out of the pyramid in frustration, forgetting all of his golden treasures. He emerged in the golden sun, hundreds of people milling about outside his fantastic pyramid.

"Where am I?" asked Super Mummy. "Unnnnhhhhh," was all that the people heard. They looked at the gigantic robed mummy and ran terrified in every direction. Super Mummy wandered away into loneliness.

Super Mummy was brought out of his reverie by another shout.

"What an imbecile," cried a beautiful woman as she passed by on her bike. Super Mummy walked down the street, crying.

A soothing voice caught his attention. "What's wrong Big S?"

Nice Alice stood in front of him, along with about half of the Corps.

"Unnnnhhhh." was all that Super Mummy could reply.

"Ahhhh," Nice Alice cooed. "You look like you really want to say something to us. Maybe if we unwrapped your face a little."

Alice reached up and began unraveling Super Mummy's face. She continued until she exposed his rotting lips and gums. "How's that."

"Pretty cool," Super Mummy said until he suddenly realized that he'd said the first articulate words he'd uttered in ages. "Holy shit, I can talk! Man, do I have a lot to say. Let me tell you that it has been hell being the walking dead. People are always picking on me, and they simply don't understand that I'm royalty. You all knew that I was royalty didn't you? Not that you guys ever showed me any respect either. In fact, I think that I should be the leader of the Corps now, since I think that my blood line almost demands it. I think that I'll keep things pretty much as they were at headquarters. But I think a new policy about bowing to royalty will have to be enacted just as soon --"

"Here," Nice Alice said as she started wrapping Super Mummy's face back up. "We don't want your face to get cold."

"Unnnhhhh," continued Super Mummy, as they walked on to find the others.

"Our first mission!" exclaimed King Fralboneezer. "My Holiday Hero Troop, led by Santa Claus, shall head out to Ganymede and stop our new evil arch enemy team, The Wastoid Weremen! They've started a plot to take over this universe, especially Earth, and we, as the new protectorate of the universe, but especially this galaxy, and especially Earth, need to stop them from there fiendish deeds. Now, here is Santa Claus with the plan."

Santa Claus stepped forward. "Now, here is the plan. We, The Holiday Hero Troop, shall head out to Ganymede and stop this evil from infecting the universe. We'll send out an advance troop consisting of Passover, Yom Kippur and Baby NewYear. They will stage a main assault on The Wastoid Weremen's headquarters while the rest of the group will be really sneaky and sneak around the back to infiltrate the group and stop them from inside."

Mr. Valentine cheered the plan. "Good plan, Santa Claus." He stood up and clapped appreciatively.

Santa Claus smiled. "Now, we've already sent the first team out. The rest of you, prepare to head out to Ganymede, for tonight, we triumph!" Santa Claus shot his fist in the air and the crowd cheered.

After the two week flight to Ganymede, the advanced team arrived. On the way, Death Rock had discovered that Baby NewYear was probably the only one who rocked. Passover had openly admitted that the only reason he was going on the advanced team, and even why he was a member of the Hero Troop to begin with, was that he was the king's brother-in-law. He didn't even have a clue as to what Passover was, the pamphlet hadn't helped either since the hero was illiterate.

"Come on!" Death Rock screamed as he jumped out of the shuttle. "We'll show you how to rock!"

"Yeah!" Baby NewYear yelled along with Death Rock. Spending two weeks in a shuttle with Death Rock had apparently effected the baby. "Jovi fans suck! And rap music sucks the big dick too!"

"Rock on!" Death Rock yelled.

"Uh... yeah," Passover said quietly. "Rock, rock rock."

Death Rock frowned at the identically dressed hero.

"Hey jack," Baby NewYear said as he set his hand on Death Rock's shoulder. "You can't make him an instant rocker. Hey Passover, remember the charging call?"

"Uh... meet my dick?"

"Close enough for now. Lets go kick those Belinda Carlyle fans in the face."

Baby NewYear and Yom Kippur, AKA Death Rock, charged the large building that was the Wastoid Weremen Headquarters. Yom Kippur let the advanced guards shoot him up, as the fire bounced off his chest. Baby NewYear followed, keeping behind Yom Kippur's body, his gun out. Baby NewYear was picking off guards left and right when they finally reached the door. Passover was already there, the door opened.

"What the fuck?" asked Yom Kippur.

"Well, I don't know what Passover is, but having the richest brother-in-law in the universe, you learn how to pick locks. I've taken so much of his stuff, I must be the second richest man in the universe."

Yom Kippur looked at him with a new appreciation. "Well, you'll buy the beers after we kick these werefags asses." Yom Kippur, Passover and Baby NewYear stormed the entry room of the Wastoid Wereman's Headquarters. Nothing but furniture.

"Well, this should be easy enough," laughed Baby NewYear as he headed toward the far exit. Suddenly, a chair next to him transformed into a giant hairy humanoid.

"Roooaaaaarrrr!" it screamed. Baby NewYear shit his diaper. He pulled a knife from his diaper and slit the monster's throat.

"Holeee Shit, what the hell was that?" Just then, a table transformed into another of the giant hairy monsters. It jumped on Yom Kippur, knocking him to the ground. Yom Kippur kicked it in the groin and threw it through the wall.

"Man, this place is really rocking! This is the best shit I've been in since before I joined that boring Corps! Fucking non-rockers, I'm glad they got bought out."

Passover, Yom Kippur and Baby NewYear ran up the hallway and deeper into the Wastoid Wereman's Headquarters.

A few more of the Wastoid Weremen attacked them. Yom Kippur easily crushed them into werebits. Finally, they came into what looked like the secret chamber of the leader. The famous wereman, Ralph "Wolfy" Montana, stood waiting.

"Who the hell are you?" he yelled.

"I be Baby NewYear. And these guys be Passover and Yom Kippur, otherwise known as the Holiday Hero Troop."

"What happened to the Corps?"

"They didn't rock!" Passover screamed, and he received a content nod from Yom Kippur.

Ralph had seen how the one calling himself Yom Kippur had easily handled his weremen. "Uh... you're right. The Corps didn't rock, not like me."

"You don't rock!" Passover yelled.

"Um... what are you talking about? I kicked all of my men's asses yesterday. I just thought it would be neat to see you do it, too." The wereman cracked a smile.

"You rock?" Death Rock asked.

"Yeah, I rock hard."

"You know," Death Rock said as he turned to Baby NewYear. "You guys are the only rockers of the group. Why don't we ditch those country western fans and rock by ourselves?"

"Cool," Baby NewYear responded, rubbing his gun.

"Shit," Passover sighed. "Oh well, I have enough of my brother-in-laws money stashed away. Why don't I fund it?"

"Does that mean you'll buy the beer?"

"MGD all the way!"

"Rock on!" Yom Kippur yelled. The heroes walked out of the secret chamber.

Surveying his base, Ralph saw nothing but carnage. "Hey rockers, wait up for Ralph "The Rocker" Montana!"

By the time the Holiday Hero Troop arrived at Ganymede, it was a ghost planet. Dead bodies lay everywhere. The base was empty.

Santa Claus stood before his team. "Our first mission is a success! We have easily defeated this Wastoid Weremen team!" The Hero Troop yelled hooray!

"Good plan, Santa Claus. It worked like a charm," commented Mr. Valentine as he gave Santa a wink.

"Blue Diamonds, I can't believe we be doin so well, already," said Patty. He climbed back on the ship, along with the rest of the Holiday Hero Troop as they prepared for the two week trip back to Earth.

Ralph "The Rocker" Montana changed into a super-than-fast-light ship for Yom Kippur, Passover and Baby NewYear. They were speeding back to Earth.

"What should we do about our group?" asked Death Rock as he was tearing his costume up in the back of the ship. "Yom Kippur is no more: Death Rock is back!" Baby NewYear took his lead.

"Yeah, fuck this shit," he yelled as he pulled off his diaper. "I sure ain't gonna be this idiot no more." He stood naked, brandishing his gun. "Gotta get me some baggy pants to hide my piece."

Passover remained in his Jewish clothes. "Hell, I guess I'll keep this outfit. I think it rocks." Death Rock shook his head in exasperation.

"You got a lot to learn about rockin, Passover."

"Ladies and gentleman," the ringmaster said. "Today we have a unique sight for you at the circus. It is a rare, badgerlike, burrowing mammal that emits a foul-smelling fluid when molested. It comes straight to you from Borneo, led by its holder Teleman. It's a teledu!

"A what?" little Jimmy asked his mother.

"A teledu."

"What's that, mommy?"

"I don't know, Jimmy. But look at how nicely the trainer is handling it."

Teleman stood in the center ring with a big smile on his face. He handled the teledu like nobody had ever handled any animal before. The animal almost acted like it understood him. Of course, this was only possible because it had the prefix tele- in its name.

"Look how it does a somersault!" the announcer boasted.

Teleman seemed to have finally found his niche in life. He would be famous. This was where he had always belonged. Everybody here would show him the respect he deserved.

"Hey Teleman," a crewman said as Teleman walked off stage. "Put that skunk thing away and get busy cleaning up the elephant shit!"

"But I'm a natural," cried Teleman. "I can make this animal do anything!" Teleman waved his arms and the Teledu stood up and waved to the crowd. "See!" cried Teleman triumphantly. Just then, an explosion rocked the tent.

"Ha ha ha ha!" cried a strange voice from the corner of the tent. Teleman looked over and saw a dark figure. "I hate the circus!" he cried. "Ever since I was a little kid, the circus has given me nightmares: the clowns, the lions, the elephants, the tigers, and all the strange sideshow freaks. I hate the circus. I am The Three Ring Annihilator and I am here to stop this frightening travesty!" Another explosion rocked the tent as Teleman tried to figure out what was happening. I have to stop this freak, thought Teleman. Teleman ran out of the ring, removing the teledu from his power. Suddenly, the teledu began to ravage the audience. But Teleman didn't notice. The Three-Ring Annihilator had to be stopped. And Teleman was a super hero. He had been part of the Galactic Hero Corps when it was still banded together, and now, even though he was a normal circus guy, he had to do something. He ran at him, his telekinetic power at the ready.

Another explosion hurled Teleman through the air. He landed at the ringleader's feet.

"Do something," the ringleader pleaded. "Didn't you used to be a hero?"

"Yeah, I think so. Yeah."

Teleman charged again. This time he got within ten feet of him before an explosion knocked him unconscious. The Three-Ring Annihilator acted as if he could not be stopped as he ran to torment the crowd. But unfortunately for the villain, he did not see the teledu until it was too late. And even after he saw the teledu, it was obvious that he was not well educated in teledu lore, for he immediately attacked the creature.

A stream of foul-smelling stuff was sprayed directly into his mouth.

"Blygark!" he screamed before he fell to the ground immobilized. Teleman ran forward and put his foot on the man's chest.

"I am Teleman, hero of the Galactic Hero Corps! I have captured you."

"Teleman, we've finally found you!" screamed Nice Alice as she ran into the tent. "I knew you would be okay!" Nice Alice hugged him. The rest of the hero corps ran in behind her as the teledu bit off the Three-Ring Annihilator's head. "Come back and help us regain headquarters!"

Teleman looked down at the dying villain. "My work is complete here. I will come back to the Galactic Hero Corps. I know I can be of valuable service to you, being one of the greatest hero's ever." Teleman stepped up to Captain Dick. "I am once again a member of the Galactic Hero Corps!"

Bill moaned. "Man, if you guys don't stop using our names, we are going to be in such deep shit!"

"Don't worry," said Captain Dick. "The Bergonian Lawyers will never know. It's not like we're trying to profit off the names or anything."

"But we keep using them," cried Bill. "We're definitely going to get sued."

All of the heroes ran out of the tent, but not before Teleman remembered to pick up the teledu. Nobody could handle it like he could. He decided to call him Spot. Spot was a nice name for a teledu.

"Rock. Rock. Rock."

"No, you pansy," Death Rock screamed. "Try again!"

"Rock! Rock! Rock!" Passover yelled.

"Better, keep practicing. We don't want people to think you're a Jovi fan or something. What do you think, Joe Cool?"

Baby NewYear had recently assumed a new identity. "I think he needs a gun, then he'll be otay!"

Death Rock belched loudly as he finished another beer. "Why don't we go kick those holiday-wimps' asses. They sure don't rock."

"Cool," Joe Cool said. "But lets finish off the 24-pack first."

"Yeah, meet my dick!" Passover shrieked.

"Boy," Joe Cool shook his head. "You best keep practicing."

The ship continued to hurtle to Earth.

Carlotta Everyday sat upon the top of the ark. She had been sitting there for at least a day. The Galactic Hero Corps had finally broken up, as she knew it would. And it would also be getting together again, soon, as she knew it would. But until that time, somewhere in the future, she had some time to kill.

Carlotta watched Noah as he wandered from stable to stable. He had been keeping pretty good care of all the animals. She loved to watch him tend the animals. She always enjoyed visiting Noah. The zebras, the giraffes, the cats, the bears, the teledus: all the animals were peaceful to Carlotta. She especially liked it when Noah sent out the dove and the raven. The raven got a bad name because Noah had sent it out just a bit too early, and Carlotta felt bad about this. She always wanted to change the outcome of this, but to change the three dimensional world, well, she was totally against that. She was here to keep things the way they were supposed to be. Epochalypse: he was the one who fucked things up. Carlotta watched now as Noah fed the cows. She smiled as she tucked her knees up under her chin. The time was almost up. She needed to get back. But, Noah was about to send the raven out and she didn't want to miss this. It almost always made her cry.

"Would you like some fries with that?" Brandon asked the customer in front of him. In the time since the break up of the Corps, he had found the only job that was open to a sixteen year old without an education. "And how about one of our Slippery Shakes?"

The customer growled an answer that Bright Boy didn't understand and threw some money on the counter. Brandon put the money in the register and handed the guy his order.

"Brandon!" his manager yelled. "You're on drive-thru duty now. Get over there."

The rookie ran over to the drive up window and put on the headset. "Hi, welcome to Slippery Sal's Burger In A Styrofoam Container. How can I help you."

"Hi," the female customer resounded in the headset. "I'd like four Slippery Burgers and three large fries, please."

"Would you like some soda to go with that?" Bright Boy asked.

"That would be really nice."

There was a short pause. "Alice?"

"Brandon, is that you?"

"Yeah, hey, Nice Alice, what are you doing here? I mean, ever since the Corps was disbanded, my life has been a complete wreck. My life have just been complete hell. I don't know what to do. I'm a failure, a failure." Bright Boy was on the verge of tears, screaming into the headset.

A finger tapped him on the shoulder. Brandon turned around to see his manager standing there.

"What the hell do you think you're doing, Brandon? Happy smiles, happy smiles, God Damn It! You think our customers want to hear your sorry sob working for minimum wage stories? Fuck no! Get to work you, you shit head! I'm sick of your whining ass, already. Get to work or fucking get out!"

"Come on Brandon, we need your help. We're going to get headquarters back and start the Corps back up. The universe needs us." Nice Alice was at the window now with Captain Dick, Bill and The Guardian. Captain Dick stuck his head in the window.

"Hey, how are you doing Mr. Jones?" Captain Dick smiled his best kiss ass smile. The manager looked over and frowned at him.

"Do I know you, you sorry puke? Get the fuck out of my restaurant!" The manager turned back to yell at another kid while Bright Boy climbed through the drive-thru window and into the car.

"Wow, my old manager still hasn't changed," said Captain Dick as they drove off to find the others.

"Pash me anodder beer, Little Rock," Death Rock said as he finished up another. "That name shounds much better than Overpass."

"Its Passover," Passover said. "But you know, I like that. Rock On!"

They had landed on Earth and were partying in some hotel. After the first 24-pack they had decided to open another. Then another. All three of the new friends had lost track of how many beers they'd had.

"Shouldn't we be kickin' shome ashes," Joe Cool slurred. "And lets get us shome big-breashted women whiles we at it."

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" Passover yelled. "Meet me!"

Death Rock and Joe Cool lost it. They were both rolling on the ground in laughter. Even in their drunken state, they realized Little Rock would always have his own style of rocking.

"Okay!" Death Rock screamed. "Lets kick ashhh! Whoshe okay to drive?"

"I can drive!" Passover shrieked.

"Cool," Joe Cool said as he tried to avoid passing out. "I'll ghet my gun. We'll shoot dat Santa in da fashe."

"You guysh go ahead," Death Rock said as he stumbled towards the bathroom. "I gotta take a whiz. I might jusht puke too, even though rockersh never puke. But thish ish a shpecial occasion."

"Hey, maybe we should invite Ralph in," Little Rock wondered aloud.

"Oh yeah," Death Rock said as he pissed. "I forgot about the ship."

Insectorama sat on the couch in the new television room. He couldn't understand why the Corps had rearranged Headquarters, but he really kind of liked it this way. The only thing he couldn't understand is why they had also re-decorated his room the way they had. It was all red with lots of hearts and happy love messages all over it. He didn't know why they had done it, but he liked it just the same. It made him feel happy.

Insectorama was flipping through the stations when he heard someone whisper his name.

"Insectorama!" Insectorama looked around the room. Nobody was there.

"Insectorama!" Again, Insectorama looked around. Nothing.

"Over here! The potted plant! It's me, Ruben." Insectorama got up and walked over to the plant.

"What are you doing in that pot, Ruben?" Suddenly the plant disappeared and Ranger Ruben stood there. He grabbed Insectorama and pulled him down on the couch.

"Where are those holiday freaks?" He looked around nervously.

"Who?"

"Those new heroes who think they're holidays! They left quite some time ago and I was wondering when they might get back. But then I saw you here and I thought that maybe the Corps was back together. Are they?"

"Huh?"

Ranger Ruben explained the whole situation to Insectorama.

Dirk Daring finished his speech. "And if you vote for me for mayor of this fine city, you will not have cast a vote in vain. I will clean up this city. I will make it a better place, and I will initiate change in the system. A vote for me is a vote for good. Afterall, I was voted most popular hero in the Galactic Hero Corps three years running."

He looked around. None of the people on the sidewalk were paying him any attention. He reached down, picked up his milk crate, and decided to go try another corner. The people on this street just didn't seem to care what happened to their city. Dirk only wished that he knew what city he was in.

He set up his crate on the next corner and started his speech. "Attention. My name is Dirk Daring and I'm running for mayor!"

A wino who was passing by made a quick grab for the milk crate.

"Hey!" Dirk yelled. "That's mine."

The old wino continued to pull at the milk crate Dirk was standing on.

"Hey, stop that! This is my crate, old man!" Dirk stepped off the crate, and the sudden lack of weight on it sent the wino flying. Dirk walked over and grabbed his crate. "Stupid freak!"

Just then, a group of familiar people walked up to him.

"Dirk," Bill said. "I'm glad we found you. You have to help us get the television back."

"Somebody stole the television?"

"No," Captain Dick interrupted. "Its at our old headquarters. We're going to get everything back."

"I'm in," Dirk said proudly.

"Say," the captain added. "Do you know where we could find Duck Wonder? We don't know where to begin looking for him."

Dirk cringed. "Why don't you try the park, or Anaheim or something."

Grunion Guy stepped forward. "Captain, do you remember that Duck Wonder had his own business before he recently rejoined the Corps. Why don't you try his house?"

"Shut up, you fuck," the captain retorted. "I was just about to say that."

Greased Lightning pulled his cowboy hat down over his eyes and fixed the gun at his belt. He straightened his vest and pulled up his jeans. The spurs rattled on his boots as he fidgeted uncomfortably: his thong underwear was riding up. Suddenly the music started and he heard the DJ over the microphone scream out his intro.

"Here he is, that rodeo guy you'd love to ride, the bull you'd love to take by the horns, the guy who's trigger you'd love to pull, Greased Lightning!"

At the sound of his name, Greased Lightning came on stage gyrating his hips madly. Hundreds of women began screaming his name again and again. They were throwing clothes out on stage and waving money in the hopes that he'd come their way. Greased pulled his hat off, screamed Yeeeee-ha, and tossed it in the crowd. A dozen women jumped at it and began scratching and clawing in the hopes that the hat would be theirs.

In the middle of a pelvic thrust, Greased Lightning's eyes met with someone he knew. He suddenly became very uncomfortable as he recognized The Stranger staring up at him.

"What are you doing here, you sick pervert," Greased yelled at his former second in command. His voice could barely be heard above the screaming of the women. By now, Greased Lightning had completely stopped his dance.

"I lost the toss. Everyone's outside waiting for you. We're gonna take back headquarters." Everything would have been fine if Greased had heard what the Stranger said. Unfortunately the roar of the crowd had deafened the sound.

"I knew I saw you looking at my butt back at headquarters, you freak," Greased Lightning screamed as he jumped off the stage and came towards The Stranger. "Now there's nothing stopping me from kicking your butt. And to think I saved it a couple of times too."

The crowd of women slipped off of Greased Lightning easily, as he had turned off his friction when he jumped off the stage. Everyone thought it was part of the act. The Stranger thought Greased had heard him and was coming into the crowd to meet him. He also couldn't hear what was being said. So, he began to push his way towards Greased.

"Come on," The Stranger said when he was only a few feet from Greased Lightning. He held out his hand for the hero to grab, in order to help him through the mass of women.

"Here, faggot," Greased yelled as he punched The Stranger in the nose. "And I don't ever want to catch you looking at my butt again." As Greased turned on his friction to be able to hit The Stranger, the mob of women got a quick hold of him. With a scream of surprise, Greased Lightning disappeared beneath a pile of women.

Nice Alice stood outside Biffy's House of Buff waiting for The Stranger to bring out Greased Lightning. Teleman shuffled about anxiously.

"Maybe we should go in and get him," said Teleman as he pictured the mobs of beautiful screaming women. They wouldn't be able to resist a man, thought Teleman. I could get lucky. He looked at Nice Alice with pleading eyes.

"Well, if that's what you want, then go ahead." Teleman ran for the door. The door opened just as he got there and it knocked him on his ass. Greased Lightning came flying out, stepping on Teleman's gut as he went. He was half naked, his clothes were hanging in tatters.

"Hey," was all Teleman was able to say before The Stranger stepped on his face.

"He. . ." was all he said before a dozen fat women came screaming through the door, trampling Teleman in their mad dash to get a feel of Greased Lightning's body.

"Let's get the hell out of here," shouted Greased as he flew by Nice Alice and the others. The Corps saw the fat women approaching at a speed which few fat women ever attained and decided that a full scale retreat was indeed necessary. They all bolted, the mob of fat women following close behind.

Teleman stood up in the doorway. He began dusting himself off when a hand shot out, grabbed him by the arm and pulled him inside. He was pushed toward the stage and tossed on before he even realized what was happening. Music began to blare over the speakers and the DJ began.

'"Um, here he is, uh, the master of swing, or uh, um, the golden god of, um, uh, well, here he is, Tele-"

Teleman looked around as a room full of fat women began screaming and waving dollar bills in front of him. He shrugged his shoulders and began to dance.

The van was parked outside of Galactic Hero Corps headquarters. Death Rock, Joe Cool, and the recently initiated Little Rock were deciding on what to do.

"Letsh jusht kick ash," Joe Cool said.

"Yesh," Death Rock added. "Thoshe Shinderella fans shuck."

"I bet they're listening to Perry Como as we speak," Little Rock interjected proudly.

"Hey," Death Rock sputtered. "Hey Little Rock. Why ish you talking sho normal?"

"I don't know. I guess I just don't feel that drunk."

"But you've had almosht twenty beersh." Joe Cool was finding it more and more difficult to talk.

"Letsh go lick... I mean, kick,,, some Jovi fansh in the heads."

Insectorama and Ruben sat watching television in Mr. Valentine's quarters.

"So you say that this isn't the television room?" Insectorama asked.

"For the hundredth time, no! Everyone is gone. The Galactic Hero Corps is through, just like it should have been after The Gobi Campaign. Nothing can be done to change that."

The sound of a large motorized object crashing through the former conference room interrupted their conversation. The two heroes ran out to see what had happened.

A van was parked in the middle of the room, debris was everywhere. Suddenly, three individuals jumped out of the van.

"Die Jovi fansh!" Joe Cool screamed as he knocked Insectorama flat with one punch.

"Meet!" Little Rock yelled as he tagged Ruben. He was knocked cold as well.

"Wait," Death Rock said. "I know theshe guysh. They aren't the holiday pushies."

The van instantly materialized into Ralph. "Can I join the fun now?"

"Shure," Death Rock said. "Theshe aren't the right guysh, but they don't rock either."

Duck Wonder answered the door.

"Yes, who is . . ." Captain Dick shoved his way past and headed for the kitchen as the other members of the Galactic Hero Corps shuffled in.

"You have any beer, Duck Wonder?" asked Captain Dick.

"Or a TV?" asked Bill who's entire body was shaking. He hadn't been able to watch TV for the entire time they searched for the other members of the Corps.

"Yeah, right in there," pointed Duck Wonder. Bill ran into the other room, gibbering and crying madly.

"Finally," he screamed in ecstasy, snatching up the remote control and kneeling just a few inches in front of the television. The rest of the Corps found places to sit. Captain Dick entered with a beer in one hand.

"Now, Corps, we must decide on what to do." He popped open the beer and took a sip. "We need to get the fucking headquarters back. So, we need a plan. Our information says Ranger Ruben and Insectorama are staked out inside headquarters, so we have spies that can tell us of the movements of those holiday hero queers. Now, I don't know where Carlotta is. . ."

"Right here, chief," came Carlotta's voice from the back of the room. She saluted Captain Dick and sat down cross legged to listen to his plan.

"Well, okay, we now know where everybody is. The plan is to regain headquarters and fucking start the Galactic Hero Corps up again. Teleman, you'll be our contact with Ranger Ruben and Insectorama. Dirk Daring, Greased Lightning, Super Mummy and Bright Boy will be our advance force. Storm the place and kick whoever's asses you see. Nice Alice and The Guardian will guard the perimeter to make sure no one gets in or out until we have the place secure. Duck Wonder, Grunion Guy, Bill and The Stranger will. . ." Captain Dick stopped. "Do you guys hear that?" Everyone stopped to listen. There was a slight rumbling sound coming from the front yard.

"I hear it," said Teleman. And suddenly the front door exploded inward and hundreds of lizard skinned reptile men came swarming in with lasers.

"Nobody move. You're all under arrest for copyright infringement." Bill turned off the television and moaned.

"I knew it man, I just knew it."

"But we didn't use the names for profit," Captain Dick pleaded.

"That doesn't matter," the Bergonian lawyer stated. "Under the new laws set down by King Fralboneezer, even using the names is a violation of the law. You could all face up to five years in prison and/or a $5,000 fine. Of course, I'm sure the king will gladly dismiss the charges if a settlement can be reached."

"Settlement?"

The lawyer smiled. "You know, a large some of money that you will pay us. Unfortunately for you, the king is away on a mission and you'll have to sit here in jail until he returns. We expect him to be home any time now." He walked away and left the heroes alone in their cell.

"I knew we should have just kicked their butts back at Duck Wonder's house," Greased Lightning said with a pout. "We could have taken those lizard wimps."

"I didn't want to risk getting bad publicity," the Captain answered. 'We didn't know if the media was outside or not. But, I see no choice but to escape now. Alice, call over one of the guards, and when he comes over, you show him a little cleavage to distract him."

"No, that wouldn't be nice."

"Fuck nice!"

"Why don't I just teleport over to the guard station and grab the keys?" Teleman asked.

"Will you shut up, you useless shit," Captain Dick said. "I'd ask for your help if I think it would do any good. Super Mummy, why don't you bend the bars or something."

"Unnnnh," moaned Super Mummy as he motioned to the bandages around his lips. He couldn't quite get a grip on them with his bundled up hands and nobody was offering to help clear his mouth.

"Unnnnnnnhhhhh," he wailed in frustration.

"Um, okay, forget that, then. Greased, slip through the bars and go get the fucking keys."

"I can't fit," replied Greased Lightning from the corner of the cell.

"Carlotta, get us the hell out of here." Carlotta looked at Captain Dick, winked and gave him a thumbs up before turning back and staring at the wall. "Shit, I hate this fucking team."

"Um, Captain Dick, I think I can get us out." Captain Dick turned around to see Bill standing there.

"What the hell can you do?"

"Well, I saw this one episode of MacGyver where he used a tampon and a pair of thong underwear to pick the lock on a cell door."

"Great, Bill, but where the hell are we going to get a pair of thong underwear. . ."

"I got some," said Greased Lightning.

". . .or a tampon?"

"Right here," said Teleman, holding up a tampon for Captain Dick. Captain Dick took it and gave it to Bill.

"I'm not even going to ask you, Teleman." Captain Dick walked over to get the underwear from Greased Lightning.

"It's okay," Teleman replied. "One of the women stuck it in my pants instead of a dollar back at the bar."

Bill went to work on the lock. Sure enough, with the strange device he constructed from the tampon and the underwear, the lock sprang open.

"But how do we get out without any of the guards seeing us," Nice Alice inquired.

All of the heroes turned to look at Bill.

"I don't know. After that, they went to a commercial. But I did learn that Crunchy Munchys have seven essential vitamins and minerals."

"Lets just kick their asses," Greased declared.

"I kind of like the cleavage idea," Dirk said. He saw Alice throw him a nasty glance. "Sorry, but it'd work on me."

"Come on," the captain whispered. "I like Greased Lightning's idea."

The group walked down the hall and into the guard station. It was empty. So, they continued down a string of corridors. Each one was equally as empty as the guard station had been. Finally, they walked out into the parking lot. The Bergonian lawyer was getting into his car.

"Hey," he yelled at the heroes. "What are you doing? We sent all the guards home already, you're not supposed to be out here. We thought you'd be too afraid of bad publicity to escape."

"Sorry," Captain Dick said as he picked the lawyer up by his jacket. "Hey Death Rock, make this scum meet your duke."

All of the heroes stood there in silence, and Captain Dick came to a sudden realization. "Uh, we forgot about Death Rock, didn't we?"

"Hee hee hee," the lawyer laughed. "Let me tell you what happened to Death Rock --" Before he could say anymore Greased Lightning laid him out.

"Oops."

"Couldn't you have waited one more second?" the captain bellowed.

"I couldn't help it."

Santa climbed out of the space ship and looked at the enormous hole in the side of the Holiday Hero Troop Headquarters. Something was wrong, he decided.

"Something's wrong," Santa warned. The others stopped pulling luggage from the ship and looked toward Santa Claus. "There's a big hole in our headquarters. That means someone has broken in."

"Good observation," cooed Mr. Valentine.

"Who was in charge of guarding the headquarters?"

"No one," said EarthGuy. "You said it should be safe enough. You said nobody would be bad and mean enough to break into somebody else's house. You said we should all realize the potential good of every person and trust our fellow mankind and even make an effort to . . ."

"Okay, already, so I was wrong. People suck. Let's go in their and kill whoever destroyed our wall." The Holiday Hero Troop stormed inside.

"Come on, Pissover, pash the beer thish way," pleaded Death Rock. Passover passed the keg over to Death Rock who immediately began pumping beer down his throat.

"Don't you think you've had enough?" asked Insectorama, who had just recently recovered from the beating he had taken. Death Rock glared over at Insectorama.

"You wanna shut your loushy inshec mouth, you pieshe of shit bug."

"I just want you to know that drinking alcohol is not good for you. It can cause all sorts of problems with your heart and your liver. I once knew this one guy, he was sorta my friend and his name was Billy. He used to drink alcohol all of the time. He never stopped drinking, not even when we had to go shopping or something because the first thing he would do is buy the beer and he always drank it in the car or whatever. But this guy Billy, who wasn't really my friend now that I think about it, he was a friend of my friend Tom. Tom was this really great guy I knew from this hamburger place in the mall that made these really great hamburgers with this really great. . ."

KERPOW!

Insectorama flew across the room and landed unconscious against the wall. Passover polished his duke proudly.

"How was that, fellas?"

"You're a natural rocker," Joe Cool intoned just before he hit the ground. The alcohol had finally overtaken him.

"Wow," Death Rock exclaimed. "He got rocked."

A magnolia bush in the center of the room suddenly turned into Ranger Ruben. "Is it safe to come out now?"

Death Rock looked as if he was about to pass out as well. Little Rock still didn't look phased.

Suddenly, Ruben noticed that there were more people standing in the room than there were a moment ago. The Holiday Hero Troop had returned.

"Look," Santa said eyeing Ranger Ruben and Insectorama. "They took out Baby New Year and Yom Kippur! Get them, Holidays!"

All of the members of the Holiday Hero Troop jumped atop Ranger Ruben and the still-dazed Insectorama. By sheer numbers they were pummeled.

Death Rock raised his almost-unconscious head. "Who dat?"

"It's okay, Yom Kippur," Santa said. "The Holiday Hero Troop is here to save you."

With his last bit of conscious energy, Death Rock reached up and smacked Santa.

"Oh my God!" Insectorama exclaimed as he was being hit repeatedly. "Death Rock just hit Santa Claus."

Santa Claus took the duke square in the jaw. His head snapped back and he fell to the ground unconscious.

"Santa! Are you okay Santa? Oh no, somebody help Santa!" screamed Mr. Valentine as he ran to Santa's side. He picked up Santa's gloved hand and began patting it gently. "Come on, Santa. You'll be okay." Mr. Valentine looked up at the woozy Death Rock who had just gotten to his feet.

"You'll pay for this, Yom Kippur!"

Mr. Valentine lunged at Death Rock, his velvet gloved hands hunched into little fists. He punched Death Rock in the stomach and winced as he heard three of his fingers break. Death Rock bopped him on the head and he, too, passed out.

"Theshe guysh can't rock! Let'sh get em, Pashoverrock!" Death Rock started forward to pummel some more of the Holiday Hero Troop when he tripped over Mr. Valentine and hit his head on the corner of the coffee table. He lay on the floor unmoving.

Passover glanced around to see who he could beat up. He wanted Death Rock and Joe Cool to be proud of him. He reached out and pulled the closest Holiday Hero Troop member to him: Mother Day, their newest member. She was a short fat black woman, and he just knew he could take her. He belted her in her fat black nose. She opened her eyes wide in surprise.

"Who the hell do you think you are, young man? I'm just gonna have to give you a whuppin', ain't I?" She popped him in the face and Passover, who had never been hit before in his life, fell to the ground with a broken nose.

"Oh by God, oh by God, I'b dying! I'b dying!" Blood poured in torrents from his nose as he sat on the ground holding it with both hands.

"NOW!" Captain Dick screamed, and The Galactic Hero Corps stormed into what had been their headquarters. Every member was there to aid in the fighting, except The Stranger who had been sent on a special mission of his own.

"Are any ob you a doctor?" Passover asked still holding his bleeding nose. Greased Lightning's response was to kick him in the head.

Paddy tried valiantly to fight the invaders, but unfortunately he had discovered Death Rock's stash of alcohol and was almost completely inebriated. "Santa Claushe? Ish dat you?"

Dirk Daring leapt into the fray. He was just about to take a swing at a dust-covered individual when his eyes spotted someone he knew. He froze up. His gaze was locked on Mother Day.

"No," he gasped to himself. "Not again. Why does this always happen?"

"Dirk? How come you never called me?" Her face turned up to his in that same old pout she used to use whenever she wanted her way that always used to work. It was working again.

"Um, well, I'm sorry Freda but with the super hero business and all, well, I sometimes get so busy. . ."

"But it's been over ten years. You promised me you'd never leave me, Dirk."

"I know, I'm sorry." Dirk walked up to Mother Day and hugged her passionately. "I'll never do it again."

Just then, Ranger Ruben, who had gotten loose when the Holiday Hero Troop was surprised by the Hero Corps, came running up and smashed a cast iron lamp over Mother Day's head.

"Way to stall her, Dirk," he said as Mother Day slumped to the ground, dead.

"What the hell are you doing?" screamed Dirk, tears beginning to stream down his face. "I... I... well... I mean... OH GOD!" Dirk fell to his knees and began to weep. Ranger Ruben shrugged his shoulders and started to look for somebody else to hit with his lamp.

"Take them out, Corps," screamed Captain Dick when out of the throng of fighting people stepped the six foot tall bunny. "Eeeep!" whined Captain Dick as he looked for someplace to hide.

Easter Bunny's massive fist connected with Dick's face. The two did not go well together. Dick mumbled some phobic nonsense and toppled over.

Suddenly Easter Bunny was knocked over by a small figure zipping past him yelling, "Television! Television!" He glanced back to see who it was and a giant metal foot came down on his head, knocking him senseless.

The Guardian caught up with Bill who was flipping through the channels like a madman. He squatted on the floor next to Bill as they tried to find an interesting infomercial.

"Stop this madness, damn it! Stop it right now!" King Fralboneezer had entered the room with a Bergonian lawyer on either side of him. "Will you all just please knock it off!" Everyone in the room stopped fighting and turned toward King Fralboneezer.

"Yeah, Uncle, what do you want?" asked EarthGuy from his sitting position on top of Grunion Guy's head.

"I want this to stop! I own you, you Galactic Hero Corps people, and I'm telling you to stop once and for all!" Greased Lightning's fist connected with King Fralboneezer's fat mouth, shutting the king up as he ran from the room crying. The Bergonian lawyers had other things on their minds. They pulled their lasers around and started shooting crazily into the room. The first bolt caught Soot directly in the back of the head. His head blew up and the room was filled with dark ash.

"Hey, I can't see," screamed Bill in a sudden panic. He began frantically looking for the brightness control on the television. Laser bolts were still bouncing back and forth through out the room barely whizzing past Bill's head, but he didn't even notice.

A bright flash lit up the room as Bright Boy shot a blast at the lawyers. It was pretty obvious to him that the Holiday Hero Corps wasn't much of a threat. The real menaces were standing at the door. His bolt of energy shot through the room and struck both lasers. They instantly melted around the lawyers' hands, welding the four extremities together.

"Can't we all just get along," screamed Nice Alice as her power was unleashed through the darkened room. Everyone instantly stopped fighting. In about five hours, the room cleared up. Everyone was sitting around watching television with Bill and The Guardian, laughing and giggling.

The Bergonian lawyers were still standing by the door, unaffected by Nice Alice's power when King Fralboneezer came walking back into the room. He was talking to a man in a pink daisy outfit: The Stranger.

"You see," explained The Stranger, "When you bought the Earth from Intergalactic Real Estate Agency, that was all fine and dandy. It's all on the up and up: The Earth is yours. But The Galactic Hero Corps is owned by, let's see. . ." The Stranger began ruffling through a sheaf of papers he was carrying. "Ah, right here. It's owned by a Mr. Shleprock Caesar, chairman of The Galactic Hero Corps Subcommitee. He isn't even an Earthling, so there is no way that you could possibly own us: The Galactic Hero Corps."

"But the Earth is mine?" asked King Fralboneezer.

"Oh yeah, the Earth is definitely yours. But you can't interfere with us or we could sue you."

"Oh, well, um, yes, I see, well, um, okay, um, fellas, um, Holiday Hero Troop? Guys? Um, we have to leave now, okay? Guys?"

The remaining members of the Holiday Hero Troop swiveled their heads to look at King Fralboneezer. They all had big goofy smiles on their faces.

"Well, maybe you can wait until Nice Alice's niceness wears off before you guys leave. It may take a couple of months, but, well, I don't think they'll be much good as they are." The Stranger sat down and grabbed a handful of Cheeze Dootles™. King Fralboneezer shrugged and sat down also.

Two months later. . .

"Who the fuck is this piece of shit dirty fucking scum bag sitting on our couch, huh? I thought those fucking shit head Holiday assholes had left."

Bill turned to look at Captain Dick. "This is The Veteran. He decided he'd like to remain and be a member of the Galactic Hero Corps."

"Well, who the fuck made you in charge of new recruits, hunh Bill? Who the fuck do you think you are? What kind of decision is this for you, the fucking lowliest member in this Goddamn Corps, to make? Hunh? Why don't we all just start calling you Captain Bill? How would you fucking like that, you fucking shit head? You're a great big good for nothing piece of crap, do you know that Bill?"

"I thought maybe the public would appreciate us bringing in a member who had actually fought for the Earth at one time in his life. The people of Earth will love him! He's one of them: fighting to protect the earth, saving his home at the risk of his own life, with nothing to gain for doing so: no money, no fame no power. He just fights to keep his homeland and his loved ones free. Don't you think the public will love it?"

"Did you write that down, you fucking idiot? You better be able to remember that! We'll use it for our next promo. Introducing the people's hero: The Veteran. Yes! This will work! Good job, Bill. So, what can you do? Oh, who cares what you can do. You'll be great for our image." Captain Dick walked out of the room raving over his new public relations gimmick.

"Is he always that stressed out?" asked The Veteran as he moved his long hair out of his face. He scratched at his shaggy beard and handed the joint he was holding over to Bill. Bill shook his head and shoved a handful of Cheeze Dootles™ into his mouth instead. The Veteran shrugged. "At least it will be a steady pay check. I guess I can get rid of this." He tossed his cardboard "Will Work for Food" sign behind the couch and turned to watch Gilligan's Island with Bill.

The Holiday Hero Troop headed back to King Fralboneezer's home planet of Guadasia Major. King Fralboneezer was sending them home to have the group set up shop and protect his home planet, even though he had remained behind to enjoy his new possession, Earth.

"Santa, what's this strange blip on the monitor?" asked Easter Bunny as he stared at a strange blip on the monitor. "It seems to be giving out some sort of strange radiation."

Santa walked over to take a look. "Hmm, looks like a strange blip, now don't it?" Santa said as he scratched at his beard and looked perplexed.

"You think that might be it?" commented EarthGuy as he pointed out the forward window at a huge comet headed straight for the ship.

"Hmm, could be," said Santa as the comet smashed into the ship, blowing it to smithereens.

Easter Bunny regained consciousness first. He looked around him. He was laying on his back on the fast moving comet, glowing a strange pink glow. The others -- Santa, EarthGuy, Groundhog, Columbus, Passover, Baby NewYear, Mr. Valentine, and the newest recruits, TurkeyBoy, The Hallowed Weenie and M.L. King -- were scattered around him, glowing themselves. Easter Bunny jumped up, feeling stronger than ever. He noticed his suit had been grafted to him in the accident. Hmm, he thought, something really weird has just taken place and if I don't know better, I think The Holiday Hero Troop has just been through an origin event.

"No longer will we be known as just King Fralboneezer's Holiday Hero Troop. We shall be known as King Fralboneezer's Super Holiday Hero Troop!" Easter Bunny stood up to his full height with his fist triumphantly in the air. Or at least dead space.

"Now, if we can just figure out how to get off of this rock," he pondered as the comet streaked toward deep space.