The Final Quantum Crisis: Part 4

[Back in the remains of the Space/Time Continuum, the African American Racer and Piett sweep up the mess made previously, in the formerly grand palace of Cosmos and Chronos, by Piett's violent outburst. The remaining Monitors have reassembled themselves into the grand wall of screens that display the array of realities within the multiverse, and have given up their sentience to power the images once more.]

Piett: Thanks for helping me sweep up again.

African American Racer: I was going to complain, but after that smackdown you delivered to the TV's earlier, I thought it best not to really joke or even continue with that stereotypical black guy stuff anymore.

Piett: I'm pretty sure I couldn't grab you by the legs and bash you to death.

African American Racer: Don't be so sure. You 'tarded up pretty good there.

[Piett stops and stares.]

African American Racer: And I mean "'tarded up" in regards to the sudden display of superhuman strength, not in regards to your mental faculties. [pause] Which are impressive. [pause] Please don't kill me.

Piett: Dude, relax. Although knowing I have this kind of power over Death itself is pretty sweet. [resumes sweeping, but then stops] Hey...

[As Piett clears some dust and grime away, he sees a handle on the floor. He puts the broom down and pulls away the remnants of a once-immaculate rug. Underneath the rug is revealed a large doorway. He and the Racer grab the handle and lift up the door. The aroma of stale and secluded confines overwhelms them, but they succeed in opening the door completely. A series of steps leads down into a dimly lit room, underneath the main chamber of the palace.]

Piett: There's a whole other level of the palace down here. I never noticed this before.

[Piett walks down the dusty steps into a dark corridor. He is alone, though.]

Piett: Um....Racer?

African American Racer: Yeah, I'm gonna need a minute to figure out how to walk down steps with skis on.

Piett: Oh. Right.

[Piett resumes walking, until he enters the main room. To his shock, it's a laboratory and work area. Strewn about the room are various artifacts, complete and incomplete, large tablets of schematics, and even a workbench.]

Piett [to himself]: Ok, I'll bite....which one of them actually USED a workbench?

[Pause]

Piett: Oh, dammit, this is why I can't be left alone. No pithy response or comeback without me seeming insane--

VOICE ACTIVATION CONFIRMED. STANDING BY.

Piett: Ahhh!!

[As the computer voice deafens Piett momentarily, a giant screen unfolds from the ceiling and flickers to life in front of him.]

Piett: Ugh, if this is some crazy....Over-Monitor or something, I'm going to have a conniption.

[But there is no nefariousness to be found here. Instead, the image of an old friend flickers into sight. An old....departed friend.]

Piett: Cosmos!

Cosmos: Oh crap, is this thing working right?!

Piett: You're alive?!?

Cosmos: ....no, no I don't think the audio's working.

Piett: I can....[yells] I can hear you just fine!!

Cosmos: Seriously, it's not working. That light should not be on.

Voice: That's the light that goes on when the feed is on. It's working, trust me!

Piett: Chronos?! Is that--

Cosmos: Trust you? Why would I do that?

Chronos: Dude, just because I bought this camera at Circuit City doesn't mean it's defective! Not everything at that liquidation was defective!

Cosmos: That Venture Brothers DVD was defective! If it could affect DVD playback, it could affect the audio of a videocamera you bought without a box!

Chronos: That was the cheap piece of shit DVD player that you bought that ruined Hank and Dean! Name brand, asshole, always buy name brand!

African American Racer [finally arriving]: Really? These beings ran space and time?

Piett: Oh, so you figured it out.

African American Racer: Yeah, just pulled my feet off.

Piett: .....I'll laugh later. [back to the screen] Cosmos! Chronos!

African American Racer: Hold on...this is not a live feed. It's taped. See the blinking time?

Piett: Oh. Missed that.

Cosmos: Piett, Herve.....if you're hearing this, then....well, then I apologize to Chronos. If you're NOT hearing this, then you'll have to read my lips!

Chronos: Oh screw you!

Cosmos: No, scr--guh, no time for any more bitching. Piett, Herve.......if you're hearing this, it means....well, it means we're dead. Seems our contacts in Natori-Vilal indicate that something bad is brewing. I'm not talking "Cloud City administrator merged with a ghost and his evil time traveling biologist cohort" bad, or even "infinite Pontes on unicycles" bad. It's much worse. And this is conveniently occurring while you're away, wandering around in some universe, which we currently can't observe because THOSE TV PURCHASES WERE ALSO UNWISE TOO!

Chronos: Blame Best Buy for that problem!

Cosmos: ....well, I can't blame Best Buy really. They're still solvent.

Piett: Jesus, get on with it.

Cosmos: Right, I should get on with it. So listen, if you get here and we're not around, we're probably dead. I hope they don't plunder and destroy the palace. And if we are dead, we have.....guidance. Parting words of wisdom, I guess.

Piett: Holy shit, that's a first.

Cosmos: You're probably thinking "Holy shit, that's a first." Well, I know. As a whole we've been kinda lacking in that department for some years. And ultimately, we apologize. First off, Piett, a word of advice about your....behavior lately...

Piett: I know, I know, "don't take things so literally." You too, huh?

Cosmos: My friend....TAKE THINGS LITERALLY.

Piett: Buh?!

Cosmos: It's not paranoia that's been plaguing you, nor is it doubt It's nothing bad it all...it's actually cosmic awareness and understanding.

Piett: Cosmic awareness and understanding?!?

Cosmos: Yes, cosmic awareness and understanding. You've been an agent so long, it was bound to happen. We just, erm, never got around to telling you.

Piett: Whoa.

Chronos: Speak for yourself, dude, I'm pretty sure I told him when we were drunk one night.

Cosmos: Impossible. He'd remember "cosmic awareness and understanding." It's very long and thus memorable.

Piett: Yeah, I totally would.

Cosmos: See? He totally would.

African American Racer: How the shit are they managing to have this conversation?

Cosmos: Behind you, you'll find a few things we've left behind to fight this mysterious menace that will destroy and kill us.

Chronos: I still think it's Darkseid.

Cosmos: Shut up! He's a pal, he'd never do anything like that! [back to his audience] On my workbench you'll find 2 items.

[Piett turns back to the workbench and gazes at its contents. He is stunned.]

Cosmos: I know.......it's MY workbench. Who knew, huh? The first item is a time travelling gun. When fired, this weapon will fire a bullet that will travel through time and space and find the true culprit of the horrors and atrocities you're knee-deep in the middle of. It doesn't work while you're in the Continuum, because we imagine it's quite messed up without us, but in realspace it will work fine. So aim and fire true, old chum, and the great enemy will be destroyed.

Chronos: And if it doesn't, just run. That always works too.

Cosomos: And the second device you see is probably my greatest creation. I call it the Miracle Machine.

Piett: But......[before he can realize it fully, he is joined in unison by Chronos] it looks like an old timey locomotive.

Cosmos: It's retro, dammit. Retro is finally cool again! But it's not the design that matters, it's the purpose. With this machine.....you can wish yourself a new reality.

Piett and Chronos and Racer [in unison again]: Muthafucka WHAT?!

Cosmos: I know, it flies in the face of everything I've ever known or believed in, but it's an actual valid invention. It works, though I can't really prove how. But regardless, I, Cosmos, the Lord of Space, have actually created......a miracle.

Piett: A miracle? [pause] Oh no, he wouldn't...

Cosmos: A miracle. Me! Who'd have thunk it?

African American Racer: Oh no? Why "oh no?"

Chronos: Oh lord, here we go...

Cosmos: Me....Cosmos.....a god?!

[As Cosmos rambles on, Piett and the Racer are silent.]

African American Racer: Oh, I see.

Piett: Darkseid didn't kill them because he were bored or just wanted to kick ass for a change....they were competition.

African American Racer: Or at least he believed they were.

Piett: It must've sparked some jealousy in Darkseid. One of them perceiving he might be a god worked Darkseid up and gave him the motivation to go off and be the only and only god. So he kills Cosmos and Chronos, cripples the Continuum and presumably takes over all the other pantheons of gods before coming down to the mortal plane to take over there.

African American Racer: That's totally speculation on your part.

Chronos: Dude, you know if you start spouting off that you're a god you're gonna piss someone off and make them kick our ass. [aside] Like Darkseid.

Cosmos: Stop assuming Darkseid would kill us! He's, like, retired or something. He never does that stuff anymore. Folks like us gotta pick up his slack and run with it.
[Piett glares at the Racer, who under his helmet rolls his eyes and silently concedes the point.]

Cosmos: But I digress. Anyway, we're probably dead, you're cosmically aware and now have the tools to destroy the enemy. Oh, and Herve, some advise for you: Zarkov. Just think about that. And remember it. It'll make sense. Zarkov.

Piett: If only he knew he wasn't here. But I guess I'll remind him of that when next I see him...

Cosmos: So, I guess that's it. We're off to, um, die I guess.

Chronos: Kinda morbid, isn't that?

Cosmos: I have no idea how to end this video. I'd be all inspirational, but that's tacky and cliched. As would be ending it like the Sopran








African American Racer: Really? They really ended the video like that?

Piett: Maybe that was the moment when they died.

African American Racer: Dude, they were right here. In this room.

Piett [looks around]: I guess... Yeah, everything's still here, relatively safe and protected.

[Piett looks around, and toward the end of the room a pile of familiar boxes catches his eye. The Racer stands silently, wondering what has just happened.]

Piett: Oh....wow.

African American Racer: What is it?

Piett: Well....I think I can say Herve's gonna really miss them now.

[Piett points at the pile of boxes, which upon closer inspection is filled to the brim with DVDs, videotapes and magazines.]

Piett [sniffles]: They....they saved his porn.

[Behind them, suddenly, there are the sounds of rustling and walking and soon audible speaking. Piett and the Racer are not alone here. Piett instinctively flees and hides, behind all the porn, while the Racer slowly moves that way as well.]

African American Racer [whispering]: Wait, why are you fleeing and hiding like this? You maniacally beat the shit out of an evil television earlier.

Piett: Maybe I wanted to be near the porn?

[Pause]

Piett: No, I'm really just a pussy.

[The rustling, walking and speaking come closer - then stop, near the entrance to Cosmos and Chronos' underground lab.]

Achtung! Zere's a room down here!

I told you I heard commotionsths in here earlier!

Signs of life and signs of cleaning up too, fellow colleagues. Seems we are not alone here.

[The 3 figures descend into the bunker and walk toward the main lab.]

African American Racer: It's the Governator, Kenneth Branagh and that gay guy from Sex and the City. [pause] Oh shit, is this the random cast of characters crap you alluded to earlier that always shows up in your adventures?

Piett: These aren't people here to join up. These are Darkseiders.

African American Racer: How do you know that?

Piett: Just look at their names.

Ahnald Schwarzeneggerseid: So tell me, Kanto, how did ve New Godz all die anyvay?

Kenneth Branaghseid: Political debate gone horribly awry.

Mario Canntoneseid: I thsthought it wasth becausthe sthome guy blew giant gaping holesth into usth.

Kenneth Branaghseid: Bloody hell, which one would you rather believe - gods killing each other over the politics of the mortal world, or an underwhelming and half-assed murder mystery where we all got shot in the chest and killed….a far simpler death than anyone could've imagined a god dying would be?!

Ahnald Schwarzeneggerseid [aside]: I never vant to hear zat man speak of blowing un gaping holes ever again...

African American Racer: ....how the hell am I able to see their names?!?

[As Racer turns to ask this metatextual question of Piett, he knocks over a box of porn. Its contents fall everywhere as the 3 aspects of Darkseid are startled and take up arms.]

Mario Canntoneseid: Hold it right there, you ruffiansth! [sees the porn titles and the fact that they are very much NOT homosexual in nature] OHH!! EWWW!! OHH!!! That isth all stho ssthoo disssthgusting!!!!

Piett: AHHHH!!!!

African American Racer: I think my ears are bleeding!

Piett: Oh, great job, you ponce. Your lisp is making Death's ears bleed.

[Suddenly, before anything else can happen, a large object shimmers into view, between the 2 parties. It is Metron and his Mobius Chair again.]

All: AHHHHH!!!!

Metron: I am observing....madness, quite honestly.

Kenneth Branaghseid: And you felt the need to interuppt and tell us all this?!

Metron: Yes. While my quest for knowledge is foremost, I'm also a compassionate being who feels the urge to reduce the suffering created by fan fiction as well.

All: OUCH.

Piett: So do you have the answer?

Metron: Um [awkward pause] no, not just yet. Just making this random cameo in the midst of my pursuit of that answer. [gulps, then looks at Vundabar] A Nazi in a bunker, huh? Well, I know how that ends at least. [vanishes]

Mario Canntoneseid: What the hell wasth Metron doing here? And what'sth the meaning of all thisth?! I didn't ththink monitor duty in thisth palaceth would actually require dutiessth and work!! Now handssth where I can sthee them and sthtand up!

[Annoyed by the neverending lisps, the African American Racer pokes Godfrey in the chest with his ski pole. He falls over. Dead.]

Piett: You can kill with the ski poles?!

African American Racer: Oh yeah. I ain't jokin' around.

[As Kanto and Vundabar are horrified, but also relieved, at the ease of their comrade's death, Piett strikes with a sudden ferocity. He deftly whisks the dagger from Kanto's hand and sticks it right in his neck. Kanto screams and fumbles around, flailing his arms and trying to block the horrendous gush of blood coming out of his neck. Vundabar yelps as his face is covered in his fellow New God's blood, and Kanto, his overacting finally done, falls to the ground dead. Vundabar wipes his face, but Piett grabs him in a armlock. They struggle to fight over control of Vundabar's gun. However, Piett slowly gets the upper hand and manages to maneuver the gun up to Vundabar's temple. He laughs and draws the Racer's attention.]

Piett: And now, my impersonation of Adolf Hitler!

[Piett pulls the trigger on the gun. Without even a final piece of dialogue, Vundabar jerks violently as the other side of his head is blown apart. He falls, dead.]

African American Racer: I thought Metron already did the Hitler joke.

Piett: Oh, you buzzkill. You NEVER pass up a Hitler joke!

African American Racer: I'm telling you, man, you're totally 'tarding up the longer this adventure goes on.

Piett: Maybe I am. [pause] Physically, at least.

African American Racer: We'll see about that when he get to the end.

[With the human host bodies of Glorious Godfrey, Kanto and Virman Vundabar strewn about to rot, Piett and the Racer turn to leave the bunker. Piett grabs the time travelling gun and sticks it in his coat pocket and races up the steps. With the Miracle Machine in his hands, the Racer manages to move slowly up the steps. Piett stops at the top and screams at what he sees there: the Racer's feet.]

Piett: OH MY GOD YOU REALLY DID PULL YOUR OWN FEET OFF!!

African American Racer: Toldja I did.

Piett: I just thought you were kidding!

African American Racer: Even for kidding, that's a pretty sick thing to say. I'm surprised you didn't take me literally. Cosmic awareness my eternal black ass.

[As the Racer gets to the surface, he places the Machine on the marble floor and sits, grabbing his still-ski laden feet and reattaching them to his legs.]

African American Racer: What's the plan now?

Piett: Now? Well as you said, the god who refuses to die and make way for the new reality must be destroyed, so that cosmic purity can be achieved.

African American Racer: Verily.

Piett: Though maybe we could also visit Heaven and Olympus. I mean, honestly, if Darkseid killed other pantheons of gods like I figure he did, we could go there too and get more backup.

African American Racer: Eh, no. I'm tired. And this has gone on long enough as it is. Let's just take this Miracle Machine and.....wait...

Piett: What is it?

African American Racer: Did that gay guy really make my ears bleed and I'm losing blood flow to my brain, or are we starting to disappear?

Piett: Disappear? No, it's just getting foggy. [pause] Wait, there's no fog in the Space Time AHHHHCRAPwearedisappearing!!! Quick, grab the Miracle Machine!

[The African American Racer reaches down where he left it on the floor, but his hands pass right through it.]

African American Racer: SHIZZLE! We're....we're being transported out of the Continuum!!

Piett: Darkseid!!! Killing his aspects must've alerted him to our presence here!

African American Racer: Dammit, he's pulling us back to Earth!

[As Piett tries not to panic, he gazes at the Miracle Machine, he suddenly freezes and stares closely at it. He stares hard, almost as if he has no control over himself.]
African American Racer: Do something, man! DO SOMETHING!!!

Piett: I.....I.......I am?!?

African American Racer: Wha...

[His voice fades, and within seconds both the African American Racer and Piett vanish. Around them, the Space Time Continuum - the palace, the bunker, the monitors, everything - begins to shake....then flickers....and then in a blink of an eye, it is no more and all turns dark. Just like the ending of the Sopran














Yeah, I did it too.