Warning: Do NOT read the DC Comics 2008-2009 mega-event comic Final Crisis in order to understand this story. Sure, you'll probably miss some context here, but you'll get by.
And honestly you can't even read Final Crisis to understand Final Crisis.
If you do, however, wish to read the DC Comics 2008-2009 mega-event Final Crisis, do yourself a favor and get a lot of drugs in you. I'm not talking Advil or headache medicine here. I'm talking pot.....heroine, cocaine.....maybe some crystal meth......and as much acid as you can get your hands on.
Not the liquid kind of acid that would make your hands melt; the drug kind. But then, if you do the drug acid maybe it will make you think your hands are melting......in which case, that's what you get, hophead.
Or better still, just hit yourself in the head with a hammer a few times. Either or, Final Crisis probably makes more sense in that condition.
However, I think I can promise you when I say, this story you are about to read is.....somewhat more coherent than Final Crisis.
...somewhat.
THERE CAME A TIME WHEN THE OLD GODS DIED!
Michael Ponte: Did you say the New Gods died?!
NO, PONTE, I DID NOT.
Michael Ponte: Aw..... [snaps fingers and walks away, dejectedly]
.....THERE CAME A TIME WHEN THE OLD GODS DIED!
THE BRAVE DIED WITH THE CUNNING!
THE NOBLE PERISHED, LOCKED IN BATTLE WITH UNLEASHED EVIL!
LIBERALS AND CONSERVATIVES INTERMINGLED AND PARTISAN CHAOS ENRAGED ALL.
ENTERTAINMENT STUDIOS BEGAN GETTING THE RIGHTS TO TURN BOARD GAMES INTO MOVIES. BOARD GAMES. SERIOUSLY.
OLD LADIES AND YOUNG MEN BEGAN DOING IT AND EVERYONE ELSE KILLED THEMSELVES BECAUSE THAT WAS TOTALLY GROSS.
IT WAS THE LAST DAY FOR THEM. AN ANCIENT ERA WAS PASSING IN FIERY HOLOCAUST. AND NOT IN CONCENTRATION CAMP OVENS EITHER....
...I HAD BEEN ADVISED THAT I NEED TO APOLOGIZE FOR THE INSENSITIVITY OF THAT PREVIOUS COMMENT. I BLAME NO ONE EXCEPT MYSELF, MY OXICONTIN ADDICTION, MY ABUSIVE PARENTS AND GEORGE W. BUSH.
THE FINAL MOMENT CAME WITH THE FATAL RELEASE OF INDESCRIBABLE POWER WHICH TORE THE HOME OF THE OLD GODS ASUNDER - SPLIT IT IN GREAT HALVES - AND FILLED THE UNIVERSE WITH THE BLINDING DEATH-FLASH OF ITS DESTRUCTION.
THEN LOTS OF SILENCE AND STUFF, BECAUSE EVERYTHING WAS DEAD.
....AND THEN THIS SHIT HAPPENED...
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[Scene: a street. In a big city. Doesn't matter where. Does it ever? Our main characters are walking and talking in a public area. Can you tell I minored in writing?]
Herve: I mean, really, I know he's blind, but he had to HEAR how awful that song was.
Piett: But you don't get the whole package of awful without both the audio *and* the visual.
Herve: Well either way, the Jonas Brothers suck, Stevie Wonder should've known that ahead of time, and I'll hear nothing to support either of those monsters.
Piett: I was never arguing with you. I agree, as well, that they suck. Not so much the blind guy, but definitely the virgins.
Herve: Is this what we've been reduced to? Bickering for the sake of bickering?
Piett: I know. A few years ago we were fighting wars in heaven and adventuring with our countless supporting cast member friends. Now we just hang out at our place in the Space Time Continuum, and whenever we do go anywhere or anywhen else it's just to walk around and do nothing.
Herve: Life has indeed sucked these past few years. So boring. So pointless. Thank god I have my porn.
Piett: Yes, yes, you and your porn. Between you and Chronos it's been like living with Hugh Hefner and Larry Flynt's retarded half brothers for the past few years.
Herve: Which one of us is the cripple?
Piett: Well, you.
Herve: Hey!
Piett: Emotionally. Not so much physically.
Herve [pauses]: I guess...but we wouldn't have to be living there if you hadn't totally destroyed the Executor II.
Piett: How was I supposed to know it couldn't fly through a black hole?
Herve: Ok, first off.....physics and basic astronomy. And second, just because someone said it maybe COULD withstand flying thru a black hole does not mean it actually WOULD!
Piett: I thought George Gaynes was being serious. He was old and wise in his years, [aside] even though in the end that couldn't help him from being consumed by the black hole along with the ship...
Herve: And that's been MY gripe with you lately. You take things too literally, dude.
Piett: For a good reason.
Herve: Not really. You really gotta stop doing that. It's annoying as hell, and combined with your increasing paranoia, it's gonna kill you.
Piett: I'm pretty sure that wouldn't actually kill me...
Herve: GOD! Stop already!!
Piett: Sorry. I guess it's gotten even worse since I'm not getting laid anymore.
Herve: That's right. You and Lucy splitting up. [stops] What DID happen with that?
Piett: This wasn't her fight.
Herve: What?
Piett: This wasn't her fight.
Herve: Dude, that line worked for Clooney in Ocean's 13, but you're no Clooney. What happened??
[Pause]
Piett: She cheated on me. Big time.
Herve: Oh dude. Sorry. [pause] So who with?
Piett: Shut up!
Herve: Come on, fess up. It wasn't Tom Arnold, was it?
Piett: I'd rather not say.
Herve: We could go kill him. Would that make you happy? We could kill Tom Arnold.
Piett: Dude! It's not Tom Arnold. But it'd be a long list.
Herve: Shit. That many?
Piett: Yeah. And all at once too.
Herve: .........ALL AT ONCE?!
Piett: They were all gang members. From what she said, they banged her pretty hard. But she enjoyed it, so.......that was that.
[Pause]
Herve: Gang members.
Piett: Yes.
Herve: Banged her all at once.
Piett: Yes.
[Herve is horrified.]
Herve: She went into porn, dude.
Piett: What?
Herve: She was in a gangbang. That's not cheating. That's porn.
[Long pause]
Herve: Your wife is a pornstar.
[Very long pause]
Piett: You know, that would explain why she kept saying she was going into porn to find more ways to please me.Huh.
[Herve leaps up and slaps Piett across the face.]
Herve: You SON OF A BITCH! Do you know how much free porn you cut us off to?!?
Piett: Wow, this is awkward. I am just red in the face.
Herve: You should be, you stupid f....hey, wait, you -are- red in the face.
[Piet touches his face, and looks at his hand. Blood.]
Piett: You little shit, you broke skin! All because I--what are you looking at?
[Herve, with his gaze fixed up to the sky, points up, and Piett looks. The sky is red, and the clouds are dark and black. From them falls rain. A red rain. Of blood.]
Piett: The sky is bleeding.
Herve: Oh man, I hope we don't get AIDS.
Piett: I told you we should've gone back to the happy 1950's to walk around. But no, you insisted the dreary days of 2009.
[Suddenly the sky shudders, as if the heavens themselves were rapturing with a chaotic force. Lightning flashes and thunder rumbles behind the darkened clouds. As those on the street are either frozen in shock or running for cover, the clouds begin to clear and objects begin appearing in the sky. Those objects......are planets, within clear eyesight of those on the Earth below them.]
Herve: This......cannot good.
[Piett grabs his cellphone and places a call.]
Herve: I'm fairly certain you may not get a signal with Jupiter and Neptune in such close orbit.
Piett: I'm calling the Continuu.......there's no answer.
Herve: You know Cosmos and Chronos, one's probably complaining loudly about something the other did.
Piett: No, I mean, there's no answer because they're no ringing. It's like the number's dead--
[Suddenly the skies light up. The sounds of explosions, unseen yet quite audible, burst out from the new cosmic scenery, with a force that shakes the very Earth below. Several people point, as a figure falls from the heavens. Like a comet, it plummets to Earth.....to the area near our time travelling duo. They and the many others assembled scatter for cover, as the object strikes the ground, creating a bright explosion. Some people flee but Piett and Herve walk closer. As the smoke of the impact clears, they are shocked at what - or rather who - they see.]
Piett & Herve: BEN THE SPIDER-MAN?!?!
Ben the Spider-Man: Owie.....
Piett: What the hell happened?!
Ben the Spider-Man: Legs....arms.....body......all broken...
Herve: Is there a war in heaven?! Holy crap, there was a war in heaven and we missed it!
Ben the Spider-Man: No.....got hit.......by plane.....
Piett: You can fly?
Ben the Spider-Man: Well, no, but.....got......got thrown out of heaven, and totally hit....a plane....on my way down....
Herve: I KNEW IT!
Piett: A war in heaven?! Why didn't we know?
Herve: How did you get recruited? You, a minor supporting cast member of our past adventures?
Ben: I'm......a Spider-Man, dude.....I still have some cred you'll never have...
Piett: Well, ouch.
Herve: You dick!
Ben: Damn it, listen....must listen.....fading......fading away.....
Herve: Well, for not giving us the heads up on the war in heaven, we should let--
Ben: Dude.....war in heaven....w-we lost....
Piett: We?
Ben: Heaven......heaven lost......but hell.......hell won...
[Pause]
Herve: That's a vital moment for the plot right there, man. Dramatic.
Piett: Yeah, it sounds neat. But it's my brother-in-law. Pretty sure we can take him again.
Ben: NO.....not him...
Piett: Wha?
Herve Well then who?
Ben: It's D......Da....it's Daarrrrrrrrrrgh....
[Ben the Spider-Man dies. Piett and Herve stand silently, and somber, over the broken body of their dead minor supporting cast member friend.]
Herve: Tender moment here, man.
Piett: Did he say "arrrrrgh?" Was his last word in life "arrrrrgh?" Man, what a cliched end to a life.
Herve: Ah, but he was a clone. So technically, he was never alive to begin with.
[Pause, as Piett grits his teeth. He then kicks Ben's corpse.]
Herve: Harsh, dude.
Piett: Sorry. But we are well aware from past experiences that I do NOT like clones.
Michael Clarke Duncan: Hey fools, what up?
Piett & Herve: Michael Clarke Duncan?!
Piett: Wow, heaven may've killed a clone, but it seems they sent us a kickass replacement!
Herve: What up, Michael Clarke Duncan?!
[Herve tries to fist pump Michael Clarke Duncan, but can't reach up that high.]
Michael Clarke Duncan: No, no...it's me, guys. It's Darkseid.
[Long pause]
Herve: Hey Darkseid!
Piett: You believe him?
Herve: Dude, why the fuck would Michael Clarke Duncan know who Darkseid was unless he WAS in
fact Darkseid?
Piett: So, Darkseid, what's this all about?
Michael Clarkseid Duncan: You will not believe this. So, I'm languishing in obscurity, not being misused and abused by second-rate comic book creators--
Piett: Naturally.
Michael Clarkseid Duncan: --when I realize...."Yo, I'm a fucking GOD!"
Herve: Of course. "New Gods" and all. [rolls eyes]
Michael Clarkseid Duncan: Yeah! So I figured, there's gotta be a better way to be all evil and stuff. So I finally kill the New Gods
Piett: How?
Michael Clarkseid Duncan: Eh, I punched holes in them or something.
Piett: That is completely lame.
Herve: And now you understand the point of the New Gods.
Michael Clarkseid Duncan: So after I did that, then I destroyed the Space/Time Continuum.
Piett: Sure, why not?
Herve: Yeah, it's a perfectly good--
Piett & Herve: WHA????????
Michael Clarkseid Duncan: Yeah. I killed Cosmos and Chronos. Destroyed their fantastic palace. Killed many of your colleagues and allies. All as it once existed is now tore asunder and what not. I'm the God of Space and Time, bitches! Huzzah!!
[Long pause]
Piett: What?! How could you do that?? How could you kill our friends and allies?! How did time and space not get affected by all this?! How could you do this to us?!?!
Herve: Not to mention that all my stuff was there!!
Piett [taken aback]: Are you serious?!
Herve: Oh don't give me that! You enjoyed my collection of porn as much as anyone!
Piett: You're not offended that Cosmos and Chronos are dead?
Herve: I'm offended they were killed off-screen, sure, but....they were a little too creepy, man. Pretty sure one of them was gay too.
Piett: But we could at least live with that understanding...
Herve: So why the Michael Clarke Duncan look?
Michael Clarkseid Duncan: Oh, it IS Michael Clarke Duncan. Y'see, after I destroyed Cosmos and Chronos and assumed control of Space and Time and everything in between, I came down to earth and divided my eternal essence across moments and people of the recent past, and decided to spread the good word of Darkseid from the point of view of humanity! You mortals have been so much fun to control and play with over the years, I figured I would use my infinite and immortal powers to rip all existance apart using in the guise of humanity.
Herve: So you decide, instead of bringing in some external threat to destroy us, you'd make it an internal struggle seemingly caused by us.
Piett: Just like the Watchmen movie. [pauses] I think.....wait...
Michael Clarkseid Duncan: There are Darkseids all over this earth and you don't even know where the multitude of my power is. I've spread the wealth all over humanity!
[Herve cringes, because he is a pervert and "spread the wealth" conjures up many inappropriate and disgusting images in his head.]
Herve: Hang on. So you win a war in "heaven," and now made yourself mortal to complete the task of rebuilding and reshaping reality to your liking? Kinda unnecessary, man. Like there's some ulterior weakness you're trying to cover up.
Piett: And while I know you're a god, dude, you've been pussy whipped by superpeople left and right. Superman a few dozen times, I think Batman pwned you once, Wonder Woman....
Herve: I'd let Wonder Woman pwn me. If pwning meant "roughhousing me sexually."
Piett: It does not mean that. But seriously, Darkseid, I think what we're saying is.....we don't believe you.
Herve: Yeah, we don't.
Michael Clarkseid Duncan: Are you serious?
Piett: Yup. Gonna be tough to really convince us otherwise.
Michael Clarkseid Duncan: Skies raining blood. Planets in incredibly close proximity to Earth. Tales of Heaven being destroyed in a glorious fashion. That's not impressive to you.
Piett: We've seen worse. And weirder.
Herve: Besides, it wasn't AIDS blood, so I'm really not convinced.
Piett [aside]: Wait, how do you know it wasn't?
Herve [whispering]: It doesn't taste anything like AIDS.
[Piett goes to speak again, but turns back to Herve with a look of disgust and confusion.]
Michael Clarkseid Duncan: Unconvincing, am I? Alright then. Look at that guy over there.
[A man rolls by them on a unicycle juggling cans of tuna fish.]
Piett: Pfeh, that's just Ponte on a unicycle juggling cans of tuna fish. Nothing new at all.
[The man rolls by them and away.]
Piett: Wait a minute....that WASN'T Ponte on a unicycle juggling cans of tuna fish!!
Herve: Who else but Ponte would do that?! [looking around frantically] Oh shit, reality IS unravelling and rebuilding to your will!!
Piett: Ok...I'm concerned.
Michael Clarkseid Duncan: As well you should be. Because we now come to the part where I kill you.
Herve: Kill us?!
Michael Clarkseid Duncan: Well, you just openly insulted me. Like, A LOT. So I'm obliged to kill you now.
Piett: We'll just run. We do that rather well.
Michael Clarkseid Duncan: Please. My power is everywhere. My minions are everywhere.
Piett: Really? So you've got Desaad and Granny and.....Glorious Godfrey and.....ugh, all your other freaks out there.
Michael Clarkseid Duncan: In a way. Whereas once they were individuals, I've now rendered them a singularity within my own imagination. Now they're merely extensions of my will. [pauses] Well, politically correct extensions of my will. Apparently you can't have just all white minion dudes, gotta include the coloreds and the lady people. It's all me now. Darkseid is everywhere.
[As Darkseid speaks, a ring of energy surrounds him and begins to take the shape of strange transparent symbols.]
Michael Clarkseid Duncan: Plus I've finally mastered the true key to power...the very meaning of my neverending life....the Anti-Life Equation!!
Herve: Math? You've been struggling with simple math this whole time?? Quick, Piett, let's toss some algebra his way, I'm sure that'll confound him into defeat!
Piett: Um, Herv...
Herve: Or how about calculus?! Christ, I'm sure it's killed before, why not use it to kill a god?!
Piett: Herv...
Herve: Cripple a diety with geometry! Obliterate his crowds of mindless worshippers with triganom--wait, why does Darkseid have an army of zombie people around him??
[Indeed, surrounding Darkseid, and now Herve and Piett, is a crowd of people, seemingly devoid of free will.]
Michael Clarkseid Duncan: Because I am Anti-Life, Herve Villechaize! I am the Source of all wretched life on this insignificant planet! [as he speaks, the crowds joins in unison] The Equation gives me dominion over all thought, over all individuality! I am the voice, the heart, the SOUL OF EARTH! With 3 billion pairs of eyes, I gaze upon the entirety of my kingdom. With 3 billion pairs of fists, I beat and break any enemy who stands against me.
Herve: And with 3 billion sex organs, you can drown the earth in icky bodily fluids!
Michael Clarkseid Duncan: Enough of this. Seize him.
[Several people grab Herve and lift him up. Piett, somehow still free, watches on in creeping horror.]
Herve: Hey, quit grabbin' my junk, assholes!
Michael Clarkseid Duncan: In some pockets of this world, there are few who somehow defy my will. But their time is drawing nigh. Soon, all will be Darkseid. [his zombie minions hand Darkseid a steel helmet] This device will drown out your thoughts and consume your mind with the Anti Life Equation itself. You will be a subject of MY will - and be one of a billion tools at my disposal.
Herve [dramatically]: NEVARRRR!!!!!!
Michael Clarkseid Duncan: ......plus it's got an internal video feed of porno inside.
Herve: Really?!
[Before anyone can force the helmet on his head, Herve grabs it and throws it on himself. Piett lunges but is too late: Herve, now frozen in place, is in the grip of the Anti-Life Equation.]
Michael Clarkseid Duncan: And so my legion adds another soul. [pause] Although now my legion seems a lot dirtier.....and a lot more gross. Good lord, that little bastard IS a pervert, Piett!! Well, prepare to joi--
[Darkseid turns to Piett, but he is gone.]
Michael Clarkseid Duncan: The hell!! Where'd he go??
Herve: It seems he is gone, master.
Michael Clarkseid Duncan: Well did anyone see him?!
Herve: Our eyes are yours now, master. If you did not see him, we did not see him.
Michael Clarkseid Duncan: Wait, so even under my thrall of Anti-Life you're still a mouthy prick?
Herve: I am you, great Darkseid. Merely an extension of your all powerful will. I guess you have issues, master.
[Darkseid sighs and throws his hands up.]
Michael Clarkseid Duncan: Terrific. I'm fucked up. Great way to learn this! I knew there had to be a catch to this Anti Life shit. Well, find him! FIND HIM!!
[Herve and the countless others depart and race down the streets to find Piett.]
***
[Some several blocks away, Piett is ducked down behind a pile of trashbags and empty boxes. He could've done better, sure, but as several of Darkseid's mind controlled masses pass by, it proves an effective hiding place. As the crowds disperse, Piett leaves his hideaway and surveys the streets around him: chaotic, filled with mindless minions of Darkseid, destroying/killing/raping anything and everything in sight. Especially the raping. And not even people, they're raping, like, fire hydrants and car doors and stuff in storefronts. Man, zombie minions suck.]
Piett: So this is what a zombie apocalypse would be like...only without the biting like I'd always hoped. [pause] And way more rape. Ick.
[As he passes by street fires and the distant sounds of screams and violence, Piett walks up to a storefront and watches a series of televisions. Without sound, he can understand the images all too well...
...in Chicago, a television talk show host genuflects before a statue of Darkseid, as her largely female audience is forced and compelled to join her in adoration...
...in New York City, a loud reverend with pretty grey hair and adorned in much bling shouts to a crowd of loyal helmeted followers through a megaphone, as the city burns around him...
...in Los Angeles, a collection of actors, musicians and sports figures march down Hollywood while lookers-on are collected together to join in the mass show of worship. The closed captioning displays their repetitive chants: Darkseid is. Darkseid is. Darkseid is.
Suddenly, a brick smashs the window before him, and several mindless minions collect the televisions.]
Piett: You're looting?! Why are zombie minions of a lame New God looting?! [pause] I mean, praise Darkseid! All powerful god of gods!
[The minions run away.]
Piett: Wow, it looks like Darkseid is still a total newb at this mind control thing. That's comforting.
[One remaining television, though, presents the most uncomforting image of all...
...in Washington DC, the president of the United States stands before a burning Capitol building, with an American flag torn asunder and ablaze and a new series of flags donning a blood red omega symbol rise behind him, and soldiers surround him as he speaks to an audience of followers...]
Voice: God damn, man. We finally get in there and he's gotta become a mindless subject of a dark god of oppression. Hope and change my ass.
Piett: Well, if anything I think it says that Darkseid has an aesthetic preference to black folks.
Voice: No. It suggests that this jive honky sucka thinks that the black man are natural SLAVES, dammit!
Piett: Who the hell even says "jive honky sucka" any--WHOA!!!
[A hulking being stands beside him. Dressed in black armor, with skis on his feet and ski sticks in his hands, he watches the remaining screen with a strong sense of dissatisfaction.]
Piett: The Black Racer!!
African American Racer: That's the African American Racer to you, cracker!
Piett: Um.....ok. So what's your deal? Besides bringing outdated stereotypes back to life and......dressing like a skier from the knights of the round table...
African American Racer: I continue my eternal quest, to hunt down those who refuse to die. Preferably whiteys.
Piett: On skis? Black people ski?
African American Racer: African Americans! And yes, they do. Sometimes.
Piett: So why are you here? Wait, stupid question. You're here to kill someone obviously.
African American Racer: I am. I am here to destroy the god who will not die.
Piett: Darkseid?
African American Racer: You know of him??
Piett: Well yeah, he's on all the TVs. But I also actually know him.
African American Racer: You KNOW the god of all evil.
Piett: Yes, I do.
African American Racer: Darkseid is not one to hang out and tell tales of woe while watching TV with pals.
Piett: Actually, he has. Several times. He prefers to sit on my lounger and tell many a tale of woe during UFC PPVs.
African American Racer: And who are you who would know Darkseid on a rather personal level?
Piett: Call me Ishmael.
[Pause, followed by Piett chuckling to himself.]
Piett: Sorry. Old joke. I'm Firmus Piett, agent of the Space Time Continuum.
African American Racer: The Continuum? Nice job with that.
Piett: Yeah, thanks. Home destroyed, friends dead or enslaved by Darkseid. Please, continue to rub it in.
African American Racer: So where is Darkseid, Agent Firmus Piett, so that I may destroy him?
Piett: Sure. Yeah. Apparently he's right back...
[They turn around, and a giant crowd of people - controlled by Anti-Life - have surrounded the 2, and stand ready to strike.]
Piett: There?
African American Racer: The Anti-Life Equation! Sweet Jesse Owens, Darkseid has achieved it?!
Piett: With his cosmic calculator, apparently. So we gonna fight these people?
African American Racer: It's not their time yet! I cannot strike, for they must not die!
Piett: That blows. So what do we do?!
African American Racer: ....run away?
Piett: Always works for me.
[Piett turns and runs, and the crowd begins its hunt anew. But before Piett can get far, an arm scoops him up. As he gasps, he and the African American Racer lift off the ground and fly away.]
Piett: Flying skis! You know, you see so much weird shit, yet it's the simple stuff like a flying African American skier in armor that really takes your breath away.
African American Racer: If you're going to smart aleck around like this, I can easily drop you.
[Suddenly a giant green chair blocks their path, and a man clad in a blue bodysuit and shining like silver (don't ask how - I didn't design him, but that's what he looks like) sits staring back at Piett and the Racer.]
African American Racer: The Mobius Chair!
Metron: I am Metron. I know all. I see all.
Piett: Yeah, I know. Metron. I've read the comics, man.
Metron [suddenly gleeful, almost swooning]: You have?
Piett: So how does this end?
Metron: What?
Piett: This crisis, or whatever cataclysmic title it has...
Metron: The Final Quantum Crisis.
African American Racer: Ooh, catchy.
Piett: Very nice. Though the "final" is a bit much.
Metron: Why?
Piett: Well, are *any* of these crisises every really "final?"
Metron: Hrm.
Piett: So how does it end?
Metron: I...I don't know that part yet.
Piett: Well, you're just a liar now, aren't you, Mr. Knows All Sees All?
Metron: I do not know it for it has not been written yet.
Piett: What, is that some metatextual comment about how Walsh is still coming up with an ending the story as he's writing this dialogue?
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[At his computer, he stops typing.]
Sean Walsh: He's right, you know.
[He resumes typing.]
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Metron: .......yes, actually. I think it is.
Piett: Or are you just agreeing with me because you're a ponce in a blue skintight bodysuit whose gimmick fails him at inconvenient times?
Metron: Erm....
African American Racer: Less talking, more fleeing. For it seems Darkseid's armies.....have acquired flight.
[Piett looks back, and many of the humans controlled by Anti-Life are indeed flying toward them.]
Piett: Is it wrong to suggest I want to have Anti-Life now?
African American Racer: A little. But I certainly can't blame you. It is pretty cool to fly.
Piett: Let's go. And Metron, come back when you do know how it ends! And preferably not AT the end!!
[Piett and Racer fly away, as Metron sits and contemplates. The Anti-Life masses fly past and he gazed on them.]
Metron: And now I wonder how they're flying...
Random Anti-Life passerby: Jetpacks, dumbass!
Metron: Thus my pursuit of knowledge is satisfied. For now.
[Metron and his Mobius Chair disappear. Some distance away, the pursuit continues.]
Piett: We need to get to the Space Time Continuum.
African American Racer: The Continuum? But Darkseid conquered it!
Piett: How am I like the only person in this dramatis personae still in possession of his free will not to have known this when it happened?! Besides, all you guys have said is that it's "conquered" and "torn asunder." The finality isn't really there.
African American Racer: You're just grasping at straws...
Piett: Hey, I was told not to take things so literally! So I am! Let's get to the Space Time Continuum!
[Piett starts jabbing at his belt buckle.]
African American Racer: Are you punching your dick? Is that how you travel through space and time?
Piett: My belt buckle device...it should open a portal to the Continuum. But it's not working.
African American Racer: It won't. Cosmos and Chronos, the masters of Space and Time...
Piett: Respectively.
African American Racer: What?
Piett: Nothing. Go on.
African American Racer: Cosmos and Chronos had a mastery of technology to aid them in their governance of Space and Time. Your belt buckle, I'll assume, was one. With their deaths, then, I suspect the technology presumably ceased working.
Piett: Well then...
[Piett removes his belt buckle and throws it away.]
African American Racer: Your...your pants are gonna stay on, I hope.
Piett: Put on a few pounds these last few years. We're good.
African American Racer: Thank the Source. So if the Continuum still exists, there's only one way to get there.
[The African American Racer looks down. Piett does too. Then a long pause.]
Piett: Your skis.
African American Racer: Damn straight.
[The African American Racer speeds up dramatically.]
Piett: Oh thank God, I thought we were supposed to be looking at your penieaAAAAAHHHH!!!!
[Piett screams, and in a flash they are gone. Vanished into the ether of Space and Time.]
*to be continued*
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