Lucky streaked around the corner, a pack of ravenous bread products on his heels.

As the black cat reached the front door, he realized flying-person-only-a-little-bigger-than-a-cat was inside. Glancing across his back, Lucky heaved a sigh of relief. The bread products weren't following him. They'd apparently leapt upon a harmonica bird instead.

Lucky, head held high, limped back into the bar in what he hoped was a dignified manner.

The Gallagher Park ball field.
Bottom of the first inning.
Pantheon 2, Minutemen 1
One out.
Two runners on base.

Sitting in the bleachers, Chihuahua Lad elbowed the Hawaiian Puncher.

"Closer game than I thought." He sipped at an RC Cola.

"Yeah. redRicky's got some good reflexes. Turned that brainer of Askani's into a single."

The two JSTFers looked longingly at first base.

"And that Amazon! Those shorts! That tanktop!"

"Hubba hubba!"

Thumping his bat against the plate, Grendel was watching Amazon himself. Specifically, the way first base umpire Joe Gallagher was flirting with her.

"Googing bastich."

"What was that?" Home plate umpire Joe Gallagher asked.

"Shut up."

Gallagher sighed. Why the Joe Corps continued to associate with this maniac was beyond him.

Grendel continued staring at Amazon, until a fastball raced past his nose, the air almost burning in its wake. The bartender turned slowly toward Mother Askani.

"Low-pitch. Low-pitch! You use that head for anything other than a hat rack, lady?"

Mother Askani responded with a most unladylike gesture. Grendel choked up on the bat, picturing placing it where the sun don't shine.

"Try that again, sister."

Grendel noticed that Amazon was doing the hair-toss in response to a joke by Gallagher. What did that weenie have that he didn't?

"Now, Joe," the Gallagher behind him said, "That sort of belligerence has no place in a friendly ball game ..."

"Keep it up, Gallagher, and you'll have no place in the men's room ..."

Mother Askani wound up and fired another pitch at Grendel. A finely tuned instinct for self-preservation made him glance away from Amazon, toward the ball at the last second. He was leaning into the line of fire, in the grip of jealousy and at least one "L" word. Heightened reflexes kicked in, and he snagged the ball out of the air, a fraction of a second before it could strike his shoulder.

Flinging the bat and ball into the Minutemen dugout, sending Nate123 diving for cover, Grendel charged the mound, pulling his pistol from beneath the back of his shirt.

"GRENDEL!" The home base Gallagher charged after him. "DON'T DO IT!"

He dived at Grendel, tackling him, jarring the Tarterus .666 from his hand.

Unfortunately, Gallagher was a normal man. Amazon glanced away from her Gallagher just in time to see Grendel punching the Joe Corpsman with a left-left-right jab combination, followed by a whirling kick to the jaw. Gallagher keeled over backwards, unconscious.

Grendel, reaching for his gun, looked up at the silent crowd.

They didn't look amused. Mother Askani, a troubling energy manifestation crackling around her hands and eyes, looked unamused. Amazon looked extremely unamused.

Grendel slipped his gun back into his pants, scooped the unconscious Gallagher up, tossing him over his shoulder, and headed sheepishly toward the dugout.

"Maybe I should try some Gatorade ..."

Pantheon 2, Minutemen 1

The umpire said that, because Joe did get hit, he would get on base. Unfortunately, for charging the mound with a firearm, he was suspended for one inning. He could return to play later.

J'onn yelled, "TIME!!!" and he psispoke to someone in the crowd. Then, Buried Alien came down to pinch-run.

Buried, still wondering why he was asked to run, considering that he wasn't a member of the actual Pantheon team, was told by Joe that he was still their friend, and they liked him.

Buried stood on base, then, as Mother started her throw, Buried took off for second, getting there in plenty of time, even without super-speed.

Mother, looking a little shook up, took a second pitch at Wet Willie, up for his second at-bat (editor's note: judging by the line-ups, with Joe batting last and Willie batting first, I went to the top of the line-up, even though Jason, TSR and some others never batted.) put out a bunt again, drawing the infielders in. As soon as Mother threw her second pitch, Buried took off for third, sliding in without even having a baseman to guard him. Mother, even more shook up, looked home, looked at Buried, then, just as the pitch arrives, Willie somehow (don't ask me how) hit the ball to second base, a fielder's choice. Unfortunately, (judging by the e-mail I received from the MM) there was no second baseman. So, the ball got through to Jasper, and Buried scored. Willie got to first, and up came Cap Pantheon. He wasn't looking his normal self, as he had a wad of tobacco in his mouth, and spit out a bit of juice.

uh-oh.

Then, Dom walked out onto the field, talked to Mother. MM also put Nate123 at 2nd base. Mother gave an evil look to Cap. She put her face into the glove, with the ball. Then she threw a pitch.

It was very loopy. And slimy. Sort of like...

"SPIT!!!!!!!!! YEEEEEEEEUUUUUCHH!!!", said AoA.

Joe Gallagher walked to Mother and gave her a talking to. She would not be thrown out, however.

Then, Mother looked hard at Cap, and threw a pitch, which was hit to Nate.

Nate tossed the ball to short, who tossed it to first, for a 4-6-3 double play.

Top of the third inning.
Pantheon 3, Minutemen 1
No outs.
Warming up.

Standing by third base with her arms crossed across her chest, Amazon clenched her jaw and raised her chin a few inches upwards. She glanced over to the dugout watching Joe Grendel spit out the shells of sunflower seeds not caring where they landed. She couldn't believe it. The umpire used bad judgement in suspending Joe Grendel for one inning.

Should have thrown him out of the whole damn game.

"Heads up!"

Amazon jerked her attention back to the sight of Captain Pantheon whizzing the softball towards her from first base. Catching the ball with her glove, she swung it downward with a mock tag and tossed it back to him.

"Balls in!" Joe Gallagher yelled, indicating the end of the pitching warm-up for Hatman. The balls were rolled towards the dugout where J'onn retrieved them and tossed 'em in a bucket.

Impulse stepped up to bat. On the right side of the home plate.

Hatman raised his leg up and stepped forward as he hurled the ball towards the plate.

The sound of wood making contact with a solid object cracked throughout the field. Soaring high, the ball headed right towards the outfield. Far, far right. It sailed over the fence and disappeared in a tangle of tumbleweeds.

"Foul ball!" Gallagher yelled.

"Hey, Impulse - nice swinging. Maybe you could give us some lessons." Wet Willie jeered from second base.

Impulse tapped the bat on the heel of his shoe and raised it pointing towards the left field.

"Lookie here. He's pointing where he's going to hit the ball. We got ourselves a regular Babe Ruth here, boys!" redRicky, the shortstop, laughed.

"No," Impulse replied, "you've got the wrong player out there. Borelli's supposed to be in the left field, not center."

"Borelli!" Hatman groaned.

Amazon looked at the umpire to see if he would make another lame penalty. She glanced at Grendel again. Lying on the bench with his baseball cap pulled down over his eyes, he dozed off. He wasn't even watching her play. The man was infuriating. He paid more attention to the pistol in his pants than he did to her.

Must he do everything the hard way?

Cable77, who had been distracted by a lengthy team talk given by Dom (who was having a hard time trying to convince everyone that the Pantheon weren't cheating and that they should stick to the no-powers rule), looked up.

"What is Impulse doing at bat?" he said, confused. "He isn't a member of Minuteman Comics."

"He won the lottery, the game organisers are running." explained Merlin. "Its all part of the extended Hatman-day celebrations. Who ever got the ticket with the right number, gets the honor of being bowled at by Hatman, and $2000 dollars worth of softball equipment."

The Minutemen left there dug-out and began to limber up, while they watch Impulse being presented with his gift-token for the J Street Sports Emporium, then Merlin picked up his bat and started walking towards the plate.

"You can't use that bat." said Dom firmly.

"Why not? I've had it for ages, this is my lucky bat." replied Merlin

"But its not a regulation bat."

"So the dimensions are a little off, does it really matter?"

"Merlin, its doesn't look anything like a softball bat. It looks like a cricket bat"

"Softball, cricket, what is the difference?

"Merlin, you do know how to play softball... don't you?

"Sure. You just have to hit a ball with a bat and run back and forth between the wickets."

Dom started to bang her head against her bat. Why couldn't anything just turn out like she planned it?

* * *

Back at Grendel's bar, Ozbat was worried. First Lucky had come in with an injured leg (which was very strange, as everyone on J Street knew the consequences of hurting Lucky involved a Tarterus .666 and one seriously angry cat owner), and now the bar was deserted. He knew that some of the regulars would be at the ball game, but surely not all of them. Outside the bar, J Street itself seemed quieter than usual, with far fewer people than there should have been at that time of day.

Then Ozbat heard the growling from beneath the counter.

* * *

Merlin stood at the plate ready for the pitch. Dom had eventually convinced him to use a standard bat, or at least, she thought she had. When Merlin had gone to select a replacement, he had quickly used a spell to disguise his lucky cricket bat as the softball bat he now held in his hands.

Hatman let the ball rip and Merlin swung the bat round in an ark, his eyes tightly closed.

CRACK!

Merlin opened his eyes, and watch the ball as it hurtled away.

"I hit it!" he shouted. He then turned to the Minuteman dug out and repeated loudly, "I HIT IT!"

Dom had her head slumped into her hands, while everyone else was shouting at the top of there voices,

"RUN! YOU HAVE TO RUN!"

"Oh!" Merlin shouted back, "RIGHT!"

He set off round the bases, at full speed. He reached fourth base, just as the ball was leaving third. He threw his bat, which he had carried with him all the way round, to the ground.

"TOUCHDOWN!" he shouted Triumphantly.

Pantheon 3, Minutemen 2

It was hot. Damn hot. It was a good thing he had a cool frosty in his hand. Francis wiped the sweat from his brow. He sat in the Minuteman dugout with empath, who was seated beside him. empath too had a can of frosty lager in his hand. Normally, Francis would be drinking iced tea. But this was sports, and nothing went better with sports than alcohol. That is, if you could call baseball a sport. Francis couldn't stand baseball. It moved too slow. Plus, there wasn't enough violence. He looked up at the scoreboard.

3-2 for the Pantheon. Great.

Francis really didn't care about the game. He was on the bench. Dom had made him sit because evidently he wasn't good enough. Whatever. Why couldn't they be playing street hockey?, he wondered. He'd clean up at that game. Himself alone against the entire Pantheon. No problem. He could take that Captain Pantheon. Francis was sure of it.

"Hey look", mumbled empath. "Mother Askani beaned that Borelli kid."

"She beaned somebody else?", Francis asked. "Cool."

He tried to think back to what people shouted at baseball games. Like battabattaswingbatta. Or, more appropriately in this case, `we want a pitcher, not a belly itcher'. But Francis couldn't remember them. He stood up, beer in hand.

" YOU SUCK".

Dom shot him a nasty look from her shortstop position.

"Uh oh", said Francis weakly. He stammered, "Uh...uh... I mean, uh...we support you 100 per cent and we appreciate the fine job you are doing for us." He looked around. "Thank you". empath pulled him back to his seat.

"Hey, you got the keg?", Empath questioned.

Francis kicked it. It was underneath the bench.

"For the seventh inning stretch", he grinned.

A beeper went off on Francis' watch. It was time for Merlin's drink.

"Merl!", Francis shouted. "You ready?"

"Send one on over", Merlin yelled from his outfield position.

"empath, the captapult please."

empath grabbed the catapult that was beside him. Francis snatched a can out of his ice-filled cooler. empath held the front of the catapult while Francis pulled back the giant rubber band. He placed the can in position.

"FIRE!", he yelled. The beer can shot out of the dugout and headed into the outfield. Merlin simply raised his arm slightly, and caught it. He opened it with a `shirrwiiiiiiish" noise.

The Pantheon dugout took notice.

"What the hell was that?" said a perturbed Hatman. "Are they flinging alcohol onto the playing field.

"But that's alcoholic enhancement! It's akin to cheating!", said an excited Wet Willie. He thought about it for a moment. "Send some over to us!".

Francis and empath stood up. They yelled in unison.

" 'FRAID NOT."

They sat back down.

Dom gave him another nasty look. He knew what she was trying to get across. The whole purpose of the baseball game was to improve Pantheon-Minutemen relations. It was a chance to get to know each other better. How that was supposed to happen, Francis had no idea. Maybe if they had Pantheon and Minutemen mixed teams....

"Alright empath, shoot some over."

"And aim for the heads", he quickly added.

It was now the seventh inning. The score still 3-2 Pantheon....

Hat and J'onn shook their heads. "I don't know about this . . ." they said as one.
Grendel sighed. "Look at them! *They're* cheating! They beaned BORELLI!"
Willie nodded. "And he's one of us. We have to get him. He took it for us. We have to bring him in. He's the best there is at this."
"It would be like denying a bird the right to fly!" gail added. The two elder statesmen seemed to relent at the blonde one's words.
"Ok," J'onn said. "Call him in."
******A Hospital Room******
Jester sat in luxury. Buxom nurses were attending his every need. The Daily Show was on TV. Willie walked in.
"Hello, Willie. Need anything? I'm sure Tara or Sarah could get you something."
The nurses giggled.
Willie gaped. "Uh, no. No. That's not why I'm here. We need you Jester."
"Need me, eh? You know I got out of the business. It doesn't attract me anymore."
"Oh, balogna! You've still got it!"
"No. It's not that. Ever since . . ."
"It's *her* isn't it! You've gone all soft. All because of a woman!"
"What? What are you talking about?"
Willie stammered. "I thought we were doing that 'expert getting called back for one last mission' routine."
"Yeah, I was. Got tired of it, though. So, what's the game?"
"Softball."
"Oh, yeah. I got beaned. So, what's the problem?"
"The Minutemen are cheating. So we're going to, too."
"You've come to the right place. Let's rock."

Gallagher Park Ball Field.
Bottom of the seventh inning.
Pantheon 3, Minutemen 2.
One out.

At the steps leading out of the dugout, Amazon slipped several 20 lb. weight rings onto her bat, preparing to warm up. gail and Regina were busy trying to form a human shield between her and Grendel.

At the other end of the dugout Grendel, his black Baltimore Orioles' hat backwards on his head, took his clipboard back.

"OK, Human Lava Lamp ... you get over to the bar and tell OzBat I've hired you to fill one of our two openings." Grendel crooked a finger at Impulse. "Ballboy! Did you give my note to Merlin? Did he say whether or not I could organized a buffalo hunt in ancient America to replace beef on the menu?"

Impulse, proudly wearing his on loan Pantheon jersey, shook his head.

"He said he'd have to consult with Cowman."

Grendel grunted, looking over the job contract HLL had filled out. Hopefully he hadn't read it too carefully ...

"Hey, Daddy-o, this will be just like old times!" The Human Lava Lamp grinned, his mouth visible at the bottom of his helmet. The lava in his chest cavity seemed to move a little faster. He wiped idly at the dust on his golden armor covering his shoulders, arms and legs. "Yeah, just like Vegas in '62 ..."

Jesse, stretching out for his turn at bat, turned around at this.

"You two know each other?"

Grendel frowned, glancing over at Amy, gail and Regina.

"Uh, yeah ..." He reached for an Old Dominion Victory Amber Ale. "When he was a lot younger ..."

The Human Lava Lamp laughed, slapping his hand on Grendel's shoulder, oblivious to the glare it resulted in.

"Dig this, hepcat! Big Daddy Grendel here performed an exorcism at the Sands where Hef and I --you do know I used to be Hugh Hefner's bodyguard, right? -- were partying with the Rat Pack along with about a dozen of the swingingest Playmates. A deeeeelightful dozen, ya dig?"

Grendel frowned, seeing Amazon, gail and Regina listening.

"Shut up, HLL ..."

"And after he chased square spook out of the joint, the Playmates were gaga for groovy Grendel, baby! He must have ..."

"Shut up, man ... Amy's listening!"

"Well, he was fighting those crazy chicks off with a stick. Well, he didn't fight too hard, if you know what I mean ..."

Seeing Amy, gail and Regina listening, arms crossed, Grendel leapt to his feet, face red with embarrassment and rage.

"GO AHEAD! ANNOUNCE TO EVERYONE I SPENT 48 HOURS IN A HOT TUB WITH FOUR DIFFERENT PLAYBOY PLAYMATES! WHAT DO I CARE?"

He paused to sip his beer angrily. He listened.

Silence in the dugout.

Silence on the field.

Silence in the grandstands.

He pulled his hat around, pulling the brim low over his eyes and slumped down into a seat.

Jesse stepped between Grendel and his new employee.

"I think this might be a good time to get over to the bar, big guy. I suspect OzBat could use your help."

Grendel sipped at his beer, watching Amy's feet walk off to the on-deck box from under the brim of his hat.

"I hate this game ..."

Gallagher Park Ball Field
Bottom of the seventh inning.
Pantheon 3, Minutemen 2.
Still one out.

Clasping her hand on the back of her neck, Amazon rolled her neck in a circular motion. Something was bothering her.

The batter in front of her hit a RBI and advanced to first base. Discarding the weight rings, she held her bat in a vise-like grip and stepped into the batter's box. She took a couple swings back and forth waiting for Mother Askani's pitch.

"Strike!" Amazon let the first pitch go by.

"C'mon, Amy! Hit a homer!" gail and Regina cheered her on from the dugout.

Amazon ignored them.

She swung at the second pitch a little too low and fouled as the ball went over the catcher's head hitting the fence behind them.

"That's the second strike, Amy." Home plate umpire, Joe Gallagher, reminded her.

"Duh." She retorted.

Umpire Gallagher blinked in surprise at her hostile attitude.

"Is everything okay with you?"

"Yes. Can we just get on with the game?"

Gallagher put his umpire mask back on and motioned for Mother Askani's next pitch.

Mother Askani reared back and lost balance as she delivered a wild pitch. Amazon stepped back out of the way to avoid the ball.

"Ball one!" Gallagher shouted.

Amazon took a deep breath and exhaled slowly.

"Time."

Gallagher extended his arms putting the game on hold.

Amazon stepped out of the batter's box and faced the dugout. She caught Grendel watching her just before he averted his eyes and lowered the brim of his hat even farther down. Clenching her jaw tighter, she stepped back into the plate.

"I'm gonna show him," Amazon muttered under her breath, "He'll rue the day he overlooked a real woman."

Narrowing her eyes, she poised the bat back and silently dared Mother Askani to get the ball past her. Mother Askani recognized the challenge and accepted. Looking over her right shoulder and then to her left, Mother Askani raised the glove up to her face and her knee followed suit. She brought her arm back like a wound-up coil begging to be released and shot the ball forward.

Amazon swung her bat shifting her weight forward accelerating the swing putting her strength behind it.

gail and Regina stood up.

The opposing team stood up.

The spectators and fans stood up.

Joe Gallagher slowly removed his umpire mask.

"Strike three."

Gallagher Park Ball Field
Pantheon 3, Minutemen 2.
Or some such softballsy thing -
Batta batta batta, whatever.

The softball game was proceeding apace, and whoever was supposed to be batting was at bat. Although tensions were running high, the cheating had not yet begun to pick up in earnest. Jester's arrival would change all that...

Amazon was still in a very unpleasant mood. She, gail, and Regina were having a strongly-worded discussion with one of the more vocal cyber-weiner fans about the concept of "throwing like a girl".

"You mean like this?" Amazon asked, as she lobbed one over the fence. "Happy landings!" she called out.

"Wish that were Joe..." she muttered.

"Which one?" asked Regina.

"Does it matter?"

The Scarlet Dragon rushed into the bar.

"OzBat!" he yelled. "I'm in a hurry - I have no idea when I'm up to bat! (Don't understand this game at all!) I'm starving - how they expect me to play on a burgerless stomach I'll never know! Can you whip me up some of that veggie chili or something, to go? Quick?

"Oh, and Joe said to ask if you needed help. OzBat?

"OzBat?" The Dragon looked around curiously, but OzBat didn't appear to be there.

TSD went up to the counter and leaned on it, pondering. "That's odd," he thought. "Maybe Oz is in the back somewhere, or scrubbing the toilets. Good thing there are no customers just now!"

As he pondered, he suddenly became aware, out of the corner of his eye, of a group of small creatures watching him from off to his right side, just atop the bar.

Turning, he gasped in horror at the sight of-

"Smurfs! What are you doing here?"

"We're with a tour group..."

"Good gravy, no! You've got to get out of here - you have absolutely nothing to do with this plot! What if someone sees you? (I'll get in such trouble!)"

Panicking, the Scarlet Dragon exhaled a long, steady blast of flame at the small pack of Smurfs, quickly burning them to a pile of ashes, which he then swept off the counter and behind the bar while glancing around surreptitiously to make sure no one had walked in.

"Whew! That was a close one!" he thought, wiping the sweat off his brow.

It was then that he noticed the half dozen or so light, puffy bread products massed on the counter to his left.

"Hmmm..." he thought, "I didn't see those before. Where did they come from?"

The pastries's front openings were heavily encrusted with thick, red goo.

"Ooooooh! Joe's stocking jelly donuts!"

With that, the Scarlet Dragon scooped up a handful of Scrumpets and popped them into his mouth.

Hello everyone! It's WildCard! Ordinarily, Dom G. would give this intro., but she's avoiding Dom-Chan who turned her to make up a Minuteman roster for this game, unfortunately, Dom G. typed out the list waaaayyy too early in the morning and omitted a second baser leaving Dom-Chan to have to pick one herself. She choose, Cable77 good choice if I do say so myself. Anyway, how are on this lovely day? Here it is so nice, there is a cool wind blowing, the wonderful sound of construction is playing in the background, and everyone seems to having a really good time at this game of Buku... opps... sorry I forget here it's called Softball. Right now the team I'm playing on, The Minutemen are losing by one run. But everyone knows it's not whether you win or loose, it's all about having FUN!

Eighth Inning. Minuteman at Bat

"Don't you realize it's all about winning!" Cable77 started to rant. "And if we can't win, then that means that they are cheating."

"Listen Cable77, for the last time. they are not cheating, anyway, it's not like we can't come from behind here, thanks to Merl's run, we just need to two more and we're in the lead again."

"Yeah Cable." Fox interrupted as she was putting on her batting helmet. "Don't worry, once I get up at bat this time, the tide will for sure change."

Dom looked at her sister suspiciously, "You just get up there and bat, and this time, for Almighty's sake keep all the buttons on your jersey buttoned..."

Silver Fox rolled her eyes and proceeded to walk out of the dugout

Hitting Dom lightly on the arm Empath stated, "Hey why did you tell her that for, last time she got walked."

Dom just sighed twisted off the cap of yet another MGD as once again the wondered if returning to Megami to be a Helper Goddess Operator would really be that bad...

Thanks to a line drive, Del already have a cushy home on first. And all Foxy need to do was make sure they both got home safe. Not too hard...

Dom was watching her older sister like a hawk, and then as Hatman released the pitch, she saw it happen.

"Almighty, No.... EVERYONE AVERT YOUR EYES!!!!" Dom yelled.

The moment the Foxy's Bat came into contact with the softball, Foxy's body seemed to explode in brilliant light. Everyone on the field was blinded, and she and Del made it safely home as the opposition was gathering their bearings. Outraged, Hatman called for a time out and charged to the Minutemen's Dug Out.

"That's it! A clear violation of the rules! Fox used her powers!!" He accused Dom. "That means this game is over, Minutemen forfeit."

Before Dom could protest.

"Wait a minute," Foxy who was back to her old self said as she got in-between the two, " I did not use my powers at all!"

"Really!!!?! Then what the hell was that!"

"That was my true form. Goddesses are 5 dimensional, it's not my fault that you people are only 3!!!"

Hatman looked at Dom and she just shook her head and stated that it was all true. He threw up his hands in disbelief.

Foxy continued, "I mean it only seemed fair since Hank allowed to bat with out anything hampering his true self..."

Soon everyone on the field were debating the action, not even all the Joe Gallaghers could not get a word edgewise.

Thankfully before things really got out of hand, OzBat came running on the field frantically! He got in the center of all the arguing heroes and yelled,

"HEY EVERYONE! SNAP OUT OF IT!"

Once he got everyone's attention, he frantically started to recall the what exactly made him come leave his post at the Bar and Grill...

They are coming...

Gallagher Park
Pantheon 4, Minutemen 3 (or more)
Top of the eighth inning

Shaggy the Satyr, sports reporter extraordinaire, sat bent over his laptop, typing ...

"Softball," he wrote. "Ask many sports fans, and it's just baseball's poor, hard-drinking cousin. A lightweight game, good for teenage girls and overweight has-beens. It's no football, they'll say. No basketball.

"But there is a wonder to softball, a majesty. For nowhere else, except baseball and softball, are the twin virtues of individualism and teamwork so highlighted.

"When in the field, teams work as one entity. The beauty of the perfect double-play relies on a seamless interaction between teammates, where each player serves as only a part of the whole.

"And when at bat, it's one player against a team. The ball hurtles at them at speeds that would cause a traffic cop to take a speeding motorist off into the bushes and put a gun to the back of their head. And the player must connect bat with ball, and the wise player directs their shot in a strategic direction, sending it toward the weakest link in the enemies' armor.

"It is a game that makes heroes of ordinary mortals. And what does it make superheroes?"

Shaggy looked up at the chaos on the field.

He sighed and deleted what he had written.

The Human Lava Lamp stood outside the bar, the sun glistening on his golden armor and his plex-glass chest.

A bar. He was a bartender in a bar. Him, the Human Lava Lamp. Hugh Hefner's former bodyguard. The man who possessed the greatest triumph of Howard Hughes' technology. Loni Anderson's first husband.

Reduced to bartender.

Bummersville, man.

His move from the Bachelor Pad of Solitude to J Street was a tax dodge. He was perfectly willing to pay for Volcano Girl's college tuition (but did it HAVE to be Ivy League?), even if he was a little surprised by Cheryl Ladd's paternity suit, after all those years. But after Hef had gotten married and the attacks by the Southern Cross on him had stopped, Kimberly Conrad Hefner had convinced him he didn't need a full-time bodyguard. ("I don't care if Tony Stark has Iron Man," she'd said,"That's a comic book ... this is real life.") And working car shows, selling Turtle Wax, it was hard to make ends meet, if one had a college student daughter, rent ... and income tax to pay.

Still, he'd met Joe Grendel years ago, and hellgirl (although she hadn't been seen for awhile) decades ago. They were groovy in his book. He'd also met those JSTF cats, and that couldn't hurt his chances of getting ahead around here.

But how to impress the superheroes here? These were some boss cats ...

A scarlet dragon burst through the picture window of the bar, roaring and belching flames.

"HHHHARK! GGAAAAAH! BLEEEEECH!" Flames poured from the beast's mouth, his eyes wide, claws waving, wings beating frantically. "AAAAARGH!" An enormous blast of flame exploded from the dragon's mouth, covering the HLL.

His helmet's mouthguard slid down instantly, and HLL grinned. A supermenace to defeat. THAT would impress the regulars ... maybe even get him some choice tips.

He raised his hands and fired twin lava blasts from the palms of his gauntlets ...

Gallagher Park
Pantheon 4, Minutemen 3 (or more)
Top of the eighth inning

OzBat waved his arms frantically.

"You've all got to drop what you're doing! It's horrible!"

Cable77 snorted.

"Sure ... sure. We score, and suddenly we have to cancel the game ... nice."

The imp gaped.

"What? I don't care about any bloody Yank game! J Street is in terrible danger!"

Grendel, leaning against the dugout, watched as Amazon bent over to tie her shoes.

"Uh ... Ozzie?" Grendel said, not tearing his eyes away from the sight, his mouth going dry. "Go back to the bar."

"But the ... critters ..." Was Grendel serious?

Amy stood up, stretching her arms, placing them at the small of her back, arching it backwards, listening to her spine crack. Grendel almost fell backwards into the dugout, his face flushed.

"Go," he croaked.

"I don't believe this ..." And with that, OzBat BAMFed away. Surely Jeannie would listen to him ...

Cable77 clapped his hands together.

"Now, on with the game!"

Cowman sat in the Minuteman dug-out next to Merlin, who was watching the game and trying hard to
work out what was going on. Cowman had a troubled look on his face, as he sniffed the air
experimentally.

"MooOoo mOooooOOo mooOo." he said eventually.

"What?" replied Merlin.

"MooOoo mOooooOOo mooOo!" said Cowman again.

"What smell?" Merlin, only half paying attention.

"MooOooOoOo!"

"You can smell WHAT?!" said Merlin, suddenly very attentive. "WHERE!?"

"MooOoo mOoooOo mOoooooOoO!"

"On OzBat? ... My God, those 'critters' he was talking about, you don't think-"

"Moo."

"If you're right, we haven't got much time. We need to get changed and pick up our 'special' equipment."
said Merlin, standing up "Hey Dom! Can you spare me and Cowman from the game, we need to check
something out urgently!"

"Well, I suppose so, but-"began Dom

"Thanks!" shouted Merlin, who was already running at full speed out of the park, after a worried
Cowman.

* * *

Molotov Kid, backed up against the wall of the dead end alley he had ran into. His flame powers were
almost exhausted, but his pursuers were unrepentant. He had come to this strange place looking for his
friend Hotcoldburgerturner Lad, but no sooner had he travelled through the dimensional anomaly that
had taken his friend, had he found himself under attack from... from... he wasn't sure what they
were.

He heard the growl as a pack of the tiny creatures moved down the alley towards him, their teeth bared.

"St-stay b-b-back" he stammered, trying desperately to summon up another burst of flame.

The creatures got closer and prepared to pounce. Molotov Kid closed his eyes and prayed that the end
would be as quick as he expected. He heard the growling increase as they surrounded him and then-

BZOOOM! BZOOOM! BZOOOM!

"MoOooo!"

"I see it."

BZOOOM!

"Got it."

"Moo mOoooO mOoooOooO."

"You're right, the street is infested with th- WATCH OUT!"

BZOOOM! BZOOOM! BZOOOM!

"Moo."

"Don't mention it."

Molotov Kid opened his eyes. The creatures lay dead all around him and there was a smell of burnt toast
hanging in the air. At the end of the alley stood two men (one with the head of a cow?) wearing
dark glasses, dressed in black suits and hefting bizarre, oversized ray guns.

"Wh-h-h-o.. who are you?" he started to stammered.

"I'm Agent M," said Merlin, showing him his badge, "This is Agent C."

"Moo" said Agent C, grinning broadly.

"D-D-Do, do you live here?" said Molotov Kid

"Yes, but right now we're acting in our capacity as duly deputized agents of the PDSEB."

"P-p-p PDSEB."

"Pan-Dimensional Scrumpet Eradication Bureau."

"S-s-s-s Scrumpet What is a S-sc-sc-"

"This is." said Merlin, holding up the toasted corpse of one of the tiny carnivorous mutant bread
products. "And if the infestation is as bad as I think it is, J Street is in serious trouble."

Police work is never done.

Just as he was relaxing in a friendly game of softball (even though redRicky had beaned the player named

Mother Askani; and she, in return, had beaned a heckling Jester.) "I'd call that even" and had

finished putting on his pants, spikes, jersey and cap, the beeper sounded.

"Of all the rotten times!" He thought. And hated the thought of this happening when he was going

to bat while was substituting for the out of commission Jester around the second inning.

He told Hatman that he had to leave and someone should substitute the his substitution. As Hatman called

a new player to bat, he left the field and hopped to the nearest phone.

A couple of coins and a few numbers dialed.

"MacTyson" he spoke to the phone.

After the Grendel Affair had cleared up, Johannes returned to the Mayor's office and he had finally

approved his budget. Probably what helped Johannes make his decision was the fact that he was a cop with

no super-powers. Maybe he wanted him to keep an eye on the shenanigans of the rag-tag defenders of J

Street.

Putting those thoughts aside, he had hired Miss Blanka Kannen-Fauder's cousin immediately and got her to

man (well, woman) the station's phone-lines and front desk. And Ivanka Kannen-Vall was as effective as

her cousin.

"There have been some missing persons complaints all day long"

"Tell me about them."

"Our Inter-Dimensional Information and Operation Transmitter (I.D.I.O.T.) reports the disappearance

of Hotcoldburgerturner Lad."

"J street regular?"

"No. A hero of Marvel Earth 67732"

"The Earth that has all animals tasting like chicken?"

"No, that's Earth 66732. This earth 67732 has no sarcasm."

"I could die in that place. What else?"

"" Then several duck billed platypus disappeared several blocks from Grendel's

Pond, then a score of cybernetically enhanced wieners..."

MacTyson checked his watch and looked around the phone booth. Normally the place was packed

with...beings. But there was no one on the streets. That was odd.
"And Karamachi, the sentient brick wall called a few minutes ago to report several screams and odd sounds."

"Ok, Ivanka. I'll snoop around and I'll contact you if I need backup."

"That's another thing. No one has answered your "Cops Wanted" add. Perhaps no one has seen them yet."

MacTyson cursed slightly under his breath. "Never mind. Thanks." He hung up.

The empty streets gave MacTyson a chill down his spine. He looked around, cautiously. The spikes made a

clicking sound every step he took. He cursed himself for leaving his bag at Gallagher Park with his regular

clothes. He had only grabbed his gun and four six-bullet clips. "I don't think I need more than this. I'll

check out this complaints and head back to the game in time for the seventh inning"

The last place Hotcoldburgerturner Lad had been was, surprise, empty. Not a trace of the guy. The image

Ivanka had sent him on his monitor/wristwatch ( The I.D.I.O.T. hadn't been one of the keenest names he'd

heard on police equipment, but it was effective) was clear and not even a shred of H. Lad's uniform was

around. Only trash cans, discarded papers and tiny little breads on the far side of the alley.

He looked around some more, and then heard explosions.

BZOOOM!

"Got it."

"Moo mOoooO mOoooOooO."

"You're right, the street is infested with th- WATCH OUT!"

BZOOOM! BZOOOM! BZOOOM!

"Moo."

He ran towards that melee.

Molotov Kid was shaking. "That's it! I'm hanging my tights as of today! This superhero business is

dangerous. If Captain Marbles and Superdupman want to keep on fighting, that's fine by me! I quit!"

Agent M and Agent C looked at each other.

"MooO moOo."

"Scrumpets for brains. You said it, pal." M. checked his weapon. It had fully recharged from the earlier

blasts. He then placed a Scrumpet corpse inside a jar. "We'd better take this sample to your lab so we can

work out a way to rid us of this little critters."

"MoOoo mOoOOo mmOoOo?"

"I know the Scrumpetizers (not the official name) can whack them good, but we need something

more massive. I think the Scrumpet packs we've found are but the tip of the iceberg."

"mooO MooOooo Mo?"

"I don't know. J Street has many dimensional doors, Grendel told me the other day. And this Scrumpet

things are so prolific that they make a rabbit look sterile."

Agent M. heard a noise and turned around, gun in hand, to deal with the intruder.

"Here we go again! Last time this happened to me Dirk Gargamel was in your place." M heard the gun's

safety catch being pulled back. He had many ways to deal with the intruder, so he took the unusual one.

"Lieutenant. Sorry for startling you. We've got a bit of a crisis." He lowered the gun. MacTyson did the

same.

"What's the story? And why are you packing iron? I though you only used your derringer" he said.

Agent M. motioned to Molotov Kid. "This emergency takes precedent over everything. Cowman and I are

acting as the duly deputized agents of the PDSEB that we are."

"PDSEB?"

"Pan-Dimensional Scrumpet Eradication Bureau. And Molotov Kid was attacked by Scrumpets."

MacTyson pulled Agent M aside. "By what?"

"Scrumpets."

MacTyson blinked once. "And what is a Scrumpet?"

Agent M took a deep breath "What is a Scrumpet? Is it just a scrumptious crumpet? Or is there a

lot more to this insidious bread product than meets the eye? They are the result of a Government baking

experiment gone horribly wrong. Federal Baking Investigator, Wolvie Smith has seen the horror the

Scrumpets can inflict at firsthand. The Scrumpets are out there and they've got bloody sharp teeth!"

"So basically the Scrumpets are rouge packs of killer sentient bread products. Sort of like a Bagel on

Acid?"

"Yes."

"Uh-huh! Nice to know."

Molotov Kid saw the cop, dressed in a sports uniform, wearing spikes and a cap, with mistrust. He

interrupted MacTyson and Agent M's powwow.
"I don't believe a word you're saying.! I think you aren't law-enforcement officers!"

"Listen kid, I can assure you we are" said MacTyson.

"Prove it!"

"Like we already told you. I'm Agent M, and he's Agent C."

"Moo"

"And who the goog is he?" Molotov Kid pointed at MacTyson.

"He's_one of us too." Agent M hoped he would not be brought on charges for lying, but it was an

emergency. He hoped the PDSEB brass would understand.

"_uh, yeah! I'm Agent MacT. PDSEB special division."

"We're going to need your help, Molotov Kid. You see, Scrumpets are vicious little buggers, but they're

vulnerable to fire."

"MooomOoo"

"Lots of it, yeah. And since your powers are just that, you could be of great service to J Street."

"Yes, kid. You'd be a great help."

Molotov Kid thought it over for a second. Then he said the bold words all individuals in his situation

would've said. "Are you going to pay me for this?"

"eh ... I'll let Agent C answer that for you."

"Howdy, Rock and rollers!

"JESTER!"

"What are you doing out of E.R.?"

"Dunno. Buncha jerks preferred that square George Clooney over me. Their loss."

"Not that E.R., you ninny!"

"As if would matter!! Now, this charade has gone long enough. Do you want to win this game?" he asked

the Pantheonnaires that were inside the dugout.

"Yes"

"ARE YOU READY TO WIN THIS GAME?"

"YES!"

"Then leave it up to me!" he said grinning mischievously.

empath put his feet up on the dugout bench and relaxed. It was wonderful to have a day off work. He decided that he would do this kind of thing more often.

"Hey where did Merlin and Cowman run off to?", asked Francis, who was lying down at the other end of the dugout bench. Softball sure was a demanding sport.

"I have no idea, and frankly, I don't care.", said a very contented empath, his eyes closed.

Just then, empath's beeper went off. He pulled it out of his pocket and gazed and the number at the screen.

"Oh shoot. That's my security system calling me. The alarm must have gone off."

"Alarm?".

"Yeah. Don't worry though. It's probably false. I gotta go check it out."

"You do that Mr. Responsible. Have a lovely time. I'll just stay here and try to make the best of it. Beer, sunshine...", Francis sighed.

"Thanks. You know, you live there too. Maybe you should come with me.

"No thanks". I'm supposed to guard Dom's bottle of Jack Daniel's. What if I were to leave? Gasp! Who would protect her innocent and defenseless bottle...." replied a sarcastic Francis.

"The place COULD be on fire."

Francis made no movement and showed no sign of concern.

"Your record collection?", emapth continued.

Francis' face began to wrinkle.

"Your shrine to Stanely Kubrick?"

Francis made a frightened face.

"Your Ridely Scott collectibles?"

Francis whimpered.

"Alright. I'll come with you. You have insurance, right?"

"Hmmmm. That's a very good question."

****

Back at Grendel's Pond....

"You trying to trash Grendel's pub?", asked the Human Lava Lamp. "Luck kid, or whatever you are. Luck."

The Scarlet Dragon raised his head to look up at the man towering over him. He was still woozy from crashing through the plate glass window. "Who are you? It doesn't matter. Listen, there are these things...".

"The name's Human Lava Lamp. I'm surprised you haven't heard of me. I'm an old friend of Grendel's...".

HLL picked the Scarlet Dragon up off the floor and lifted him into the air. "And I don't know what you're talking about. But I DO know that you've just made your last mistake...".

****
Elsewhere...

Molotov Kid had the shakes. It was understandable, considering the circumstances. He HAD been attacked by a group of man-eating pastries, after all. Needless to say, it wasn't a normal everyday occurrence. He had volunteered to help Agents M, C, and MacTyson rid the city of the little beastlies. Scrumpets, they were called. Molotov Kid had been sent to the city's electrical power plant, to protect it against a possible attack. Scrumpets evidently also had a nasty habit of chewing on power lines. As Agent M had explained to him, Scrumpets usually went to knock out the power to hamper any attempts to exterminate them. Scrumpets weren't stupid, thought Molotov Kid. They know what they're doing.

He didn't like being sent alone on this mission. His nerves were still frayed. But Agent M assured him he wouldn't be alone for long. MK wasn't sure how he meant that...

***

Molotov Kid reached the plant. He walked inside and was surprised to see that there was no receptionist at the front desk.

"Hello?", he called out.

Not getting an answer, Molotov Kid ventured into the plant. Suddenly, everything went dark.

"Mommy...." , whimpered MK.

***

Just outside Empath's Sarcastic Remarks and Coffee Emporium...

"There you see? No fire, no problem", said Francis, breathing a sigh of relief.

"We still might have been robbed, numbskull."

empath unlocked the front door and they both walked in. Francis went to flip on the lights, but nothing happened. He kept flipping it.

"What the?", said Francis confused.

"Shhhh. Do you hear that?", asked empath.

"What?"

The walked further into the coffee shop. Both men gasped in horror. Even with the dim light, empath and Francis could see little creatures ravaging through the selection of pastries and other assorted goodies located inside empath's glass counter. It was like something out of the movie Gremlins. The little creatures were everywhere, eating and making a mess of everything.

"What the hell is THIS??", yelled a more than angry empath. He went to go knock one off his counter. It hissed and snapped at him.

"Oh. Oh dear."

The Gallagher Park Baseball Diamond
Minutemen 9, Pantheon 4
Top of the 9th

[What? You were busy watching those damned Scrumpers or whatever! Pay attention, son!]

"No. This shouldn't be happening."

Willie slided over to his pal and put his arm around him. "Jester, relax. We all doubt ourselves sometimes. True, your chicanery hasn't been exactly up to snuff today, but that's no reason there can't be a turn-around. In fact, I really, really don't want to lose this ball game. So...uh...get out there and pull some FREAKIN' PRANKS!!!"

"Uhm...okay, Willie. Gotcha. Quit shoving."

"Sorry."

* * * * *

The J Street City Power Plant

The 'J Street City Power Plant' building was actually a giant, hollowed-out...plant. Green leaves 'n' all!

The Motolov Kid was unable to appreciate the irony of it. Not necessarily because he came from a universe that lacked sarcasm, but mainly because he was so damned afraid.

It was dark. There were spooky growling sounds coming from almost all directions. Every once in a while, a stray power cable would spark and light up the large room, the sticky chlorophyll all over the walls glistening for an even creepier iridescent effect. More and more, this was resembling one of those "Gremlins" films. Yech.

M.K. resented the fact he'd been recruited simply because of his powers. Apparently, the mutant bread product he was looking for was vulnerable to intense flame. M.K. knew from experience that he was capable of intense flame, but he was also aware how little control he had over that flame. Why didn't those goofy government agents come and help him?

"Government [rhymes with 'bricks']." he said softly. Then, he heard the growls around him grow louder. He tripped on a vine and fell into a pile of what he could only guess to be beans or seeds of some sort. That didn't concern him. What concerned him was when the power cables sparked once more.

There were hundreds...no, thousands...of Scrumpets surrounding him. And they all had only one thing on their mind.

Dinner.

* * * * *

Gallagher Park
Minutemen 9, Pantheon 6
Still Top of the Ninth

The heckling from both sides had grown incessant. Between Cable77's "HEY BATTA BATTA"s and Jester's occasionally switching a rotten tomato for the ball, tempers on both ends were beginning to flare. Willie was up to bat again, much to Mother Askani's dismay.

"WE WANNA PITCHA, NOT A BELLY-ITCHA!" Jester howled as Hatman tried to pull him back into the dugout.

Willie stopped outside the batter's box. He set the bat down. He turned around, as to address the crowd. He lifted both hands up into the air, showing off his hooked hand. Then, he grabbed it in his other hand and began to...unscrew.

He turned the hook around in circles, the fans beginning to wonder what he had up his sleeve. He rotated the hook a few more times, and it popped off. Where everyone assumed there was a stump, there was a normal-sized, five-fingered hand. He stretched it out a bit as everyone stared at him in amazement.

"What? It's not like it was just for decoration! The thing came in handy, too! Whether it's as handy as...say...another hand...well, that's debatable. Right now, though, I think two hands are appropriate." He tossed the hook to the dugout. gail caught it and gave Willie a 'you dumb@$$' look. Willie shrugged and stepped into the batter's box.

*THUD* The ball hit the catcher's mitt. The Gallumpire muttered that thing umpires mutter when it's a strike and made the motion with his finger. Willie was still unfettered and determined to help his team destroy the opponents.

*WHOOOSH!* Willie's bat whiffed big time. Gallagher muttered and called strike two. Mother Askani smirked. Willie about lost his cool. He stepped out of the box to take a few madman swings. This wasn't softball. This was war.

The bases were loaded. Grendel stood on third, cussing Willie out to himself. Jason Borelli stood with a healthy lead off of second, saying, "C'mon, Willie. You can do it." Regina was just off of first. As much as she didn't care before this all started, the game was pretty exciting. She didn't want to lose, either. She mouthed, "Don't let me down, Fish-lips."

Jester was doing his "HIT A HOMER" dance. He had his hat inside out and backwards and hopped back-and-forth.

The crowd began to chant as crowds often do. "WIL-LIE! WIL-LIE! WIL-LIE!" To Willie, all was silent.

Willie stepped back in the box, ready to go. Mother Askani wound up. This was gonna be good. Willie narrowed his eyes and tensed his muscles.

Then, the pitcher's mound came alive. Mother Askani fell on her rear as the earth beneath her rumbled about.

"What the hell are you doing now?!" shouted Willie. "CABLE!!!"

Cable77 looked over from the Minuteman dugout. "It wasn't me! I know as well as you that pitcher's mound was laid in tribute to JYu! If you thin--" Cable was interrupted by the loud, now-familiar growling sounds. The earth was torn apart. Mother Askani got up and backed off a bit. There was now a large hole in the middle of the field emitting snarls. No one could see down the pit. Even those with enhanced vision couldn't penetrate the darkness.

Suddenly, everything grew quiet. The tension was so thick in the air...well, it was thick.

Then, something flew out of the hole and didn't stop until it hit the backstop. It appeared to be a body. A costumed body! Members of both teams ran over immediately.

"Uhhh...who is that guy?"

"I don't know. Never seen him before."

"Is he still alive?"

"Look! His shirt says 'MK'! It's MARTIN LUTHER KING!"

"Shut up, stupid!"

Then, both teams turned around to the hideous noises being made. It was the Scrumpets. There were too many to count.

And they've got bloody sharp teeth!

The Gallagher Park Baseball Diamond
Minutemen 9, Pantheon 4
Top of the 9th, and it don't look like there'll be any bottom

The Human Lava Lamp thundered through the skies overhead, bootjets drowning out the sounds of The Scarlet Dragon's wingbeats.

"Uh, I'm majorly bumming about that lava blast thing back there, daddy-o ..."

The Scarlet Dragon waved a magnanimous claw.

"Forget about it, friend. You couldn't know I had a mass of angry Scrumpets caught in my throat ..."

HLL glanced down at the carnage in Gallagher Park below. The Pantheon and Minutemen were frantically battling enraged dough-based lifeforms, although a number of the heroes were busy blaming the J Street Task Force for somehow being at fault in all of this.

"I'm hip. You really think that cat Grendel will be cool with us trashing his barista if we help crush those crazy croissants?"

TSD blinked his heavy eyelids a moment, translating.

"Uh, yeah ... watch this!" The Scarlet Dragon folded his wings, plunging toward the field, a plume of flame forming between his teeth, eyeing the mass of Scrumpets.

The Human Lava Lamp rubbed his palm blasters in anticipation, and soared after him.

"Groovy, man, groovy."

The Gallagher Park Baseball Diamond
Moments before THE CARNAGE BEGAN!!!
Before the Place got Swamped with Scrumpets

Minutemen 9, Pantheon 4
Bottom of the 9th.

The outlook wasn't brilliant for the Pantheon nine that day,

The score stood Nine to Four, with but one out more to play.

And then when Willie got to first, and Gail did the same,

A pall-like silence fell upon the Minutemen

A straggling few Pantheoneers got up in deep faith.

The rest clung to that hope which springs eternal in the human breast.

They thought, "if only Hank could but get a whack at that.

We'd put up even money now, with Hank at the bat."

But Ricky preceded Hank, as did also Jester's Date;

and the former was a hoodoo, while the latter was a Babe.

So upon that stricken multitude, grim melancholy sat;

for there seemed but little chance of Hank getting to the bat.

But Ricky let drive a single, to the wonderment of all.

And Pookie, the much cherished, tore the cover off the ball.

And when the dust had lifted,

and men saw what had occurred,

there was Ricky safe at second and Gail a-hugging third.

From the pitchers mound a hiss could be heard,

The game stood Nine to Eight!!!! Much to the Minutemen's dread.

Then from five thousand throats and more there rose a lusty yell;

it rumbled through the valley, it rattled in the dell;

it pounded through on the mountain and recoiled upon the flat;

for Hank!, The Mighty Hank!, was advancing to the bat.

There was ease in Hank's manner as he stepped into his place,

there was pride in Hank's bearing and a smile lit his face.

And when, responding to the cheers, he lightly doffed his hat,

no stranger in the crowd could doubt t'was THE MIGHTY HANK! at the bat.

Ten thousand eyes= were on him as he rubbed his hands with dirt.

Five thousand tongues applauded when he wiped them on his shirt.

Then, while the good-looking pitcher grounded the ball into her hip,

defiance flashed in Hank's eye, a sneer curled Hank's lip.

And now the leather-covered sphere came hurtling through the air,

and Hank stood a-watching it in haughty grandeur there.

Close by the sturdy batsman the ball unheeded sped --

"OVER THERE!!! A Scrumpet, I see!!!!" Hank yelled.

Strike one!" Joe Gallagher said.

From the benches, black with heroes, there went up a muffled roar,

like the beating of the storm waves on a stern and distant shore.

"Kill him! Kill the umpire!" shouted the Jester from the stand,

and it's likely he'd have killed him had not Hank raised his hand.

With a smile of Godling charity, great Hank's visage shone,

he stilled the rising Pantheon, he bade the game go on.

He signaled to the pitcher, and once more the dun sphere flew,

but Hank again ignored it, when Kevrhon screamed, "I saw a Scrumpet too!"

"Fraud!" cried the maddened Task Force, and the echo answered "Fraud!"

But one smiling look from Hank and the audience was awed.

They saw his face grow stern and cold, they saw his muscles strain,

and they knew that Hank wouldn't let that ball go by again.

The sneer has fled from Hank's lip, the teeth are clenched in hate.

He pounds, with cruel violence, his bat upon the plate.

And now the pitcher holds the ball, and now she lets it go,

and now the air is shattered by the force of Hank's blow.

________________________________________________

Oh, somewhere in this favored land the sun is shining bright.

The band is playing somewhere, and somewhere hearts are light.

And, somewhere men are laughing, and a little child runs,

but there is no joy in J Street --

because a daring Scrumpet tried to bite Hank's buns!!!

to be continued . . .

gail looked at the redRicky oddly.

"What's with the poetry, pal? Are you feeling alright?"

"Uh...no, not really," said the redRicky, his face flushed. "Must be the heat. Maybe I should go lie down. Or something."

He staggered back to the dugout. Everyone turned their attention back to the attacking wave of Scrumpets.

No one noticed that a small batch of them had found their way to the Pantheon dugout and were hiding behind the ballbag...

The Scarlet Dragon dropped like a rock, wings folded, flames building in his gut. Something was bothering him, but he couldn't figure out what. Below him a swarm of Pantheoneers and Minutemen was racing around chasing after Scrumpets. He aimed for the largest patch he could see.

Something was definitely bothering him.

What was it?

Human Lava Lamp's attack?

Forgiven and forgotten. Happened all the time.

The Scrumpets he'd mistakenly popped in his mouth?

Had one of them ended up in his stomach?

No, that wasn't it.

The damage done to Grendel's bar?

Naah, Grendel was constantly rebuilding his bar.

Then what was it?

His brain turned the possibilities over.

Suddenly it came to him.

"Oops," he said. "I'm going too fast to stop."

He felt much better knowing he'd figured it out.

But only for a moment.

Meanwhile, elsewhere on J Street.

Francis smashed through the glass window of Empath's Sarcastic Remarks and Coffee Emporium, covered in a mass of tiny, biting Scrumpets.

"ARRRGGGHHHHHH!" he screamed as he rolled on the floor , trying to get the mutant pastries to let go.

"arrrrrrrrggghhhhhh!" he shouted jumping up off from the ground.

"argh?" he said confused, as the Scrumpets continued to cling to his body.

"Oh," he said eventually, "I'm invulnerable again."

Ever since his powers had been re-activated by the mysterious Mr. Jain, they had been less than reliable. He began to pull the Scrumpets of his body, crushing them in his hand and letting their bodies drop to the floor.

"Hey Empath, you need a hand in there?" Francis shouted into the coffee bar.

There was no answer.

"If I come in there and help, can I get some money of my rent?"

Still no answer.

"I'll take that as a yes." he said eventually, walking back into the bar.

* * *

Earth Mu#67732

At the secret headquarters of the League of Expendable Heroes, an emergency meeting was in session.

"All I'm trying to say," began Unlikelytosurvive Woman, "is can we be sure they're even in danger?"

"We can't just sit here talking!" shouted Soontodie Man, slamming his fist on the table, "They're our friends!"

"I understand your concern Soontodie Man. Molotov Kid and Hotcoldburgerturner Lad are my friends too," replied their leader, Brainybutveryvulnerable Guy, "but we can't just rush into this, we need a plan."

"Plan? O.K, here's a plan," said Deadbeforechapter31 Boy, " we go through the temporal whatcha-ma-call-it, find the others and then kick bu-"

"Please, Deadbeforechapter31 Boy, try and stay calm." interrupted Brainybutveryvulnerable Guy, "What about you, Thisonesgonnadietoo Girl, have you stabilized the dimensional anomaly?"

The assembled heroes turned in their chairs to look at the video screen displaying Thisonesgonnadietoo Girl's image.

"The portal is holding, but we haven't got much time." she said over the commlink, "If we're going after them, we're going to have to hurry!"

Brainybutveryvulnerable Guy was silent for a couple of seconds, before standing up and striking his best heroic pose.

"O.K League of Expendable Heroes, lets go save the world! Again!"

The scrumpets attacked in earnest.

"Come on, you filthy %!%$!" spat Joe Grendel as his trademark .666 did the same with proto-demon bullets. "Come near me and I'll have you in my menu!"

Hatman jumped over a cadre of scrumpets, Boomerang Fedora in hand as he saw dozens of the murderous pastries gang on redRicky. "Don't worry, Ricky! Help is on the way!" He threw the Fedora. It bounced on the link fence which separates the stands from the field, it then bounced off the minuteman dugout and then, with the force of 100 hats, began its attack on the scrumpets. redRicky felt the tiny bites all over his body "Qu=EDtense de encima de m=ED, panes asesinos". Then, he only saw the familiar blur of a fedora surround him. You see, Hatman had thrown the Fedora with uncanny accuracy and it bounced off the scrumpets, knocking them out, bouncing once, twice...all the needed times until redRicky was free. Then, the fedora returned to Hatman's hand. redRicky looked at him. "Thanks."
"No problem" answered Hatman.

Then, everyone looked as the Scarlet Dragon crashed loudly on the left field, stomping scores of scrumpets. Gail rushed to his side, bat in hand, trying to help him to his feet and to roast the killer pastries.

If you happened to glance over this quadrant, with no more than a telescope and your everyday knowledge, you'd only see an eyeful of nothingness.
However, if you had spent several lifetimes studying the phenomena that make the cosmos be what it is, you'd see a tiny flicker that would catch your attention. And if you had mystical powers, you'd be able to see what's inside this "flicker".

For inside this "flicker" there is life. There is a planet. If you could see it, you'd say it's no bigger than a grain of sand. And you'd be wrong. For that planet is twice as big as the Earth you walk on. For that planet is populated by no one, except for this two creatures that walk on it.

A battle rages inside this pocket microverse.
A war is fought between its only two denizens. A human like creature battles fiercely a demon shaped one. They trade blow for blow, in a fight that has been longer than their combined lives.

The demon looks at the human. His claws itch to pierce his skin. He lunges at his throat, confident in his speed. And for the umpteenth time, he fails. The human ducks and lashes a fierce uppercut to the demon's unprotected chin. The force of the blow knocks him to the floor, stunned. As the human prepares to kick his prone figure, the demon reacts and grabs his leg, twisting it and pushing, causing the human to lose his balance and fall. The demon leaps to its feet and proceeds to attack the human. The human casts forward a weapon and parries the demon's claws. The demon shoots twin beams of fire from his eyes. The human moves quickly and blocks the fire with his weapon. The demon takes advantage of this and lunges at the human. The demon's claws finally pierce the human's chest, drawing blood. The human reacts quickly and wounds the demon_.

This battle has raged on this same way for uncounted years. Not one move has changed. Not one punch has been pulled. At dawn they both appear on the field, ready and new to do battle. At dusk, wounded and tired, they disappear to begin the fight when the day begins anew. Fresh. Like the day before never happened. Like they fought each other for the first time.
It is like they were handed a script and both combatants act according to it. And they will fight, per seculae seculorum

Or will they?

The demon looks at the human. His claws itch to pierce his skin. He lunges at his throat, confident in his speed. And for the umpteenth time, he fails. The human ducks and lashes a fierce uppercut to the demon's unprotected chin. The force of the blow knocks him to the floor, stunned. As the human prepares to kick his prone figure, the demon reacts and grabs his leg, twisting it and pushing, causing the human to lose his balance and fall. The demon leaps to its feet and proceeds to attack the human. The human casts forward a weapon and parries the demon's claws. The demon shoots twin beams of fire from his eyes. The human moves quickly and blocks the fire with his weapon. The demon takes advantage of this and lunges at the human. The human reacts quickly and dodges the demon's claws. The demon has lunged with too much confidence and the human's sidestep has left him in an awkward position. He has left his whole right side exposed. The human sees this and reacts quickly. He hefts his weapon with might and sinks it to the hilt on the demons skin.

The demons howls in pain as the human takes the weapon out of the demon and, in a single motion, strikes. The sharp edge of the weapon buries itself inside the demon's neck. Acid blood squirts from the deadly wounds. The human jumps back as the demon falls. He breathes deeply. The battle is over. He drops to his knees, relieved. But as the demon's corpse dissolves into the thin air, thunder and lightning blanked the sky of the battle-world. The human rises to his feet, weapon in hand, expecting another foe to face him. Then, a lightning from the sky falls upon him, striking first his weapon, then, enveloping him in white energy. Several lightning fall like the previous one upon the human. It's energies growing more and more intense with each passing second, until with a deafening sound, explode. When everything calms, the human is no longer in the microverse.

His destination?
Soon to be revealed.

Amazon and Mighty Hank! stomped on the scrumpets as they swatted some off their skins.
"I don't care if they're mutant bread products! They can't bite me there!"

"So far we've kept the scrumpets on the field, away from the spectators" shouted Wet Willie. "But I don't think we're facing all of them!"
"Concentrate in the matters on hand, wet-brain. Or you want to lose your hand again?" Grendel said.
"There's no way I'd let this scrumpets come that near to me!" shouted back Willie.
"I wasn't talking about the scrumpets."
"Oh...CHARGE!!!"

Mother Askani, Cable77, and the goddesses Dom, Del and Silver Fox were also a powerful force quenching the scrumpet attack.
"I can hold them!" shouted Cable77. "But there are too many!"

Mother Askani picked up several scrumpets and threw them against the wall. They made little plosh! sounds when they impacted.
"Now, you two practice your swings!" said Dom to Del and Fox as they used the softball bats to strike at the perilous pastries. Jasper was too kicking major scrumpet tail.

Hatman threw his Fedora time and time again, knocking scrumpets left and right.
"It's working, but we need something more powerful." He smiled as he reached inside his cape and pulled out the Top Hat, the Mariachi Hat and the Cowboy hat. "It's time to call in the big guns"

Chaos. Chaos like you've never seen. Really. Well, not unless you've seen a bunch of superheroes and assorted weirdos frantically battling renegade food. In which case, I'd like to shake your hand, for outweirding the rest of us hands-down.

In any case ...

Grendel held The Scarlet Dragon's muzzle in his hand, slapping at his jowl.

"Come on, come on, focus those eyes."

"Huh?" TSD's eyes did those funky spiralling effect imaginary animals and cartoon characters can manage so well.

"Groovy, baby," the Human Lava Lamp offered, scorching another patch of Scrumpets, who had sought cover in the Gatorade cooler.

Grendel looked back at the dragon.

"Do you know where you are?"

"Gallagher Park," TSD rumbled.

"Do you know what's going on?"

"Uh, a bunch of mutant bread products have interrupted the ninth inning of the Minutemen/Pantheon softball game."

HLL tapped Grendel on the shoulder.

"Hmmm. Does softball have nine innings?" HLL asked.

"Never mind that," Grendel turned back toward the dragon. "Who am I?"

"You're Joe Grendel."

"Who are you?"

TSD blinked his eyes.

"I'm Batman."

"HOLD IT!" Borelli stalked over. "I already used that joke during the KC Musical."

Grendel glared at him.

"So? That was months ago, and it's still funny. I mean, TSD crashed into the ground like it was no big deal ..."

"Oh, come on! You don't have to repeat yourself, do you?" Borelli's face went red with agitation. "I think our readers deserve better than that!"

Grendel tore at his hair.

"I HATE it when you break the illusion and actually address that we're telling a story here within the confines of the story."

"Hey, who wrote this chapter?"

gail and Regina sat in the dugout, sipping at their Gatorade, snacking on Scrumpets.

"I hate it when he takes over like that," gail said between bites. "Always has to be in charge ..."

Regina dumped her Gatorade all over gail.

Amazon and Jesse wandered up to Grendel, HLL, TSD and Borelli while the carnage continued, a bit subdued, around them.

"Guys, I don't think the readers really appreciate these metatextural jokes," Jesse said, cracking his knuckles. "Why don't we have 10 more chapters of violence and chaos?"

TSD sighed heavily.

"The mood's broken."

"Yeah, 'specially once Jesse said 'metatextural.' Everyone's gone for their dictionaries."

Amazon, brushing the dust off herself, much to Grendel's distraction, cleared her throat.

"Well, in that case, maybe they wouldn't notice if we suddenly changed scenes, jump-starting this story."

They all looked at each other, then shrugged.

"OK, what do you have in mind?"

Amazon slapped her hands to her cheeks, shrieking in horror.

"OH, NO! THE SCRUMPETS ARE ATTACKING THE ORPHANAGE!"

"Not ... the orphanage?"

"It's all I could come up with on short notice."

Hatman and Dom nodded.

"Pantheon! Minutemen! Let's save us some orphans!"

Brainybutveryvulnerable Guy and the rest of the League of Expendable Heroes stepped through the dimensional warp onto J Street.

"Thisonesgonnadietoo Girl, do you have a reading on the Scrumpets?", asked Brainybutveryvulnerable Guy.

TOGDT Girl pulled out her scanner/transmogrifier. "Yes", she said. She punched a button on the scanner and a holographic map appeared. "I've got a heavy concentration here", TOGDT Girl pointed. "It appears to be a baking facility. Mr. Misty's Cookies."

"Oh my god", cried Unlikelytosurvive Woman. "The scrumpets. They're everywhere!".

Indeed they were. A wave of scrumpets tore through a building located across the street from the League of Expendable Heroes.
"Good god", said a horrified Soontodie Man. "This is the worst level of infestation we've ever seen! We don't have much time, and we're running out of chapters!".

"Quickly people, to Mr. Misty's Cookies! We have a world to save!" yelled Brainybutveryvulnerable Guy.

"Yeah, let's kick some killer scone butt!", shouted Deadbeforechapter31 Boy.

They waited on the street corner. 20 minutes passed. Finally a cab pulled up.

"Okay", said Brainybutveryvulnerable Guy, once he was comfortably seated. "Now we're on our way. "Scrumpets...", BBVV Guy paused for effect, "...BEWARE!!".

The cabbie groaned silently. He had had enough of these super-types. It was normal to be shuttling super-beings around to fight this, save the universe from that, but it grew tiresome. He longed for the day when he would finally move out this berg and never see a costumed super-type again. He decided that that day couldn't come soon enough.

***

Empath's Sarcastic Remarks and Coffee Emporium....

Francis ran back into the coffee shop and began smushing all the Scrumpets in his path. He noticed one at his feet which he promptly stomped on. A beigish goo erupted from the now-flattened Scrumpet.

"That one was creme-filled! Mmmmmmmm. Creme....."

His thoughts were interrupted as a trio dropped onto Francis' head from an overhead fan.

"AHHH!! AHHH!!! Get out of my hair you stupid baked goods! You're ruining what was otherwise a good hair day!"

He grabbed the Scrumpets and squished them with his bare hands.

"Oh, yuck", he sighed. "Squished Scrumpets. I think I'm gonna lose my..."

empath's screaming suddenly filled the air. "FRAAAAAANCIIIIIIIIS!!!"

"I'm coming!".

Francis ran to the back of the shop and into the kitchen. He gazed in horror as he guessed a dozen lightly powdered-sugar-dusted Scrumpets covered empath.

"DO SOMETHING! They've got bloody sharp teeth!", screamed empath.

"We're agreed on the rent thing though, right?"

"YES!!!"

"Okay. Well, um...how much are we talking here?", Francis asked politely.

"I DON'T CARE. FREE THIS MONTH! JUST GET THEM OFF ME!!", yelled empath, obviously still in agony.

"Cool".

Francis proceeded to squash all the Scrumpets that covered empath. That done, both men noticed that the remaining Scrumpets were actively covering themselves with flour and yeast that they had found in emapth's cupboards. One Scrumpet was trying to activate the hose at the sink in order to spray his comrades. For what reason, Francis and empath didn't know.

"I'll handle this", Francis said confidently. The Scrumpet at the sink jumped at Francis and bit him on the arm.

"OOOOWWWW! Shoot. I feel pain. My powers must have blinked off. How are we gonna rid of them now?" The other Scrumpets and snarled and leaped onto Francis, who started screaming.

"I know". empath reached under a long counter and pulled out a large 20mm explosive shell auto-firing rifle. He pointed the gun at Francis. "Steady", shouted empath.

"WHAT??? You're going to shoot at me?" screamed Francis in disbelief.

"Not directly", said empath defensively.

"I'll try to toss them off me, then YOU waste them."

"Alright!"

Francis screamed in pain as he ripped Scrumpet after Scrumpet off his body, each one tearing skin and clothing. The were thrown against a far wall and were promptly obilterated by empath."I like guns", said empath eventually, looking at his weapon.

Francis sighed.

***
Outside Mr. Misty's Cookies...

The League of Expendable Heroes stepped out of their cab.

"This is it" This place has the highest concentration of Scrumpets in the city, except for what appears to be an orphanage", said Thisonesgonnadietoogirl.

"Orphans? We can't worry about them now. Inside the factory, and hurry!", exclaimed Brainybutveryvulnerable Guy.

They raced inside and discovered that thousands of Scrumpets were leaping into a massive mixing cauldron filled with dough. The mixture heaved and grew in size with every passing minute. Every so often, a large cradle scooped up the dough and transported it to an industrial-sized oven.

"The little [children of unmarried parents]!", said Deadbeforechapter31 Boy.

"What's happening?, asked Unlikelytosurvive Woman. "It looks like they are committing suicide?".

"They are. But it's for a greater good", replied Soontodie Man.

"They're breeding", explained Brainybutveryvulnerable Guy.

J Street
The Mr. Misty's Cookies baked goods factory

The League of Expendable Heroes stood aghast before the sight of hundreds of Scrumpets flinging themselves into a giant vat of molten dough. (Okay, it wasn't actually "molten", but doesn't that sound better?)

Trying to ignore the terrified screams of orphans faintly audible far in the distance, the League's leader, Brainybutveryvulnerable Guy, turned to the others in an attempt to piece together a plan.

"Okay, LEH, what I'm thinking is this: do any of you have any actual super-powers?"

"Gosh," said Soontodie Man. "Uh, none that I know of."

"Me neither!" Unlikelytosurvive Woman added.

"Forgive me for mentioning this," said Thisonesgonnadietoo Girl, "But aren't you supposed to be the brains of this outfit?"

"Very good point, Thisonesgonnadietoo Girl," said Brainybutveryvulnerable Guy. "Let me access my copy of Who's Who on J Street here in my Reference Belt! Let's see... Kung Fu... Lynx... Dang! We're not in here!"

"Do we have time to wait for the update?" asked Soontodie Man.

"Beats me," said Unlikelytosurvive Woman. "I'm still trying to figure out why I can't find metatextural in the dictionary!"

"You're spelling it wrong," Brainybutveryvulnerable Guy advised helpfully. "In any case, I think Soontodie Man has a point. This situation seems to require expediency..."

"Uh, I hate to be a bother to anyone," interrupted Deadbeforechapter31 Boy, whose profuse sweating and labored breathing were suddenly evident, "But I'm weak, dizzy, and nauseous, and it feels like there's an elephant sitting on my chest..." Before anyone could respond, his knees buckled and he collapsed to the floor.

Brainybutveryvulnerable Guy felt for a pulse, then sighed. "He's gone," he said somberly.

"It was inevitable - the poor kid!" said Unlikelytosurvive Woman. "Why'd he take such a stupid code name, anyway?"

"I think he smoked heavily and ate a lot of red meat and fried foods," explained Soontodie Man.

"I never even had the chance -*CHOKE!* - to tell him I luh-luh-loved him!" sobbed Thisonesgonnadietoo Girl. Unlikelytosurvive Woman gave her a hug.

Just then, one of the industrial-sized ovens opened wide its hellish maw and poured out hot, steaming vapors. A Scrumpet the size of a schoolbus slowly wriggled out, its massive, powerful jaws spastically gaping wide and slamming shut with a loud clang.

"Uh-oh!" Soontodie Man blurted out. "I take it this is bad?"

"I believe I can guarantee it!" Brainybutveryvulnerable Guy affirmed grimly, without even bothering to check his Reference Belt.

"We didn't even have time to mourn him!" Thisonesgonnadietoo Girl whimpered...

Well folks, they said it could not be done, a complete NEB with both the Minutemen, the Pantheon and a bunch of carnivorous Mutant bread products. Well at this point, it seems that the Scrumpets have completely taken over J-street with no end to their hunger. Moreover, just to prove how nasty those little buggers, not only are the attacking all the great heroes of J-street, but they now seem headed towards the Orphanage! Meanwhile a group of other dimensional super heroes by the name of The League of Expendable Heroes have tracked down the source of the evil pastries! So now we bring you the next chapter! Featuring, TERROR AT THE ORPHANAGE!!!!!!

"See told ya I could do it!" Del said as both her and Dom materialized on the stoop of J-Street's Orphanage.

"Good job, but now we got to focus on protecting the kids." Dom's voice was full of worry, she already talked to Hatman about her teleporting ahead to get to the orphanage before the Scrumpet could begin to devour on the poor children. Dom had a special bond with the Orphans. She often volunteered there and when she heard Amazon screamed that the Scrumpets were going after the Orphan's her blood ran cold, she knew that no matter what the cost, she would protect those children. She burst into the door, shooting each and every Scrumpet her she saw. Yelling desperately she called for the children as she made her way through the orphanage,

"Scott! Bruce! Rachel!

She got no response, Del was closely walking behind her older sister, still with a Louisville slugger in her hand, swatting at Scrumpets her Dom would miss. Dom continued her desperate cries,

Peter! Clark! Betsy!

The from a distance she heard vaguely,

"dommy..."

Dom let out a sign of relief, not since her Lil' Goddesshood has anyone but the children call her Dommy. Still zapping every Scrumpet that dove for her, she ran towards the direction of the child's voice, the moment she headed up the stairs she looked back at Del and said,

"The rest of the heroes should arrive shortly, You stay down here and tell them that I am upstairs, meanwhile just make sure the no more Scrumpets go upstairs!"

Clutching the Aluminum Bat harder, Del responded, "You got it, Onesan"

Running up the stairs at a speed which is not humanly possible, yet way too slow for Dom, she burst into the room where she heard her name being cried. To her horror, she saw the children, backed up into the corner of the nursery, while their caretakers, Sisters, Maria-Paloma, and Maria-Louisa, where desperately trying to keep a horde of growling Scrumpets at bay. It had only been a few days since Dom had gotten fully recharged and at this stage, it was not an necessarily wise action, for her to conjure up a big spell, but honestly she could not think of anything else she would rather use up her energy on than the safety of the children. Plus being a cook, she knew just the spell to cast. Something not even the strongest bread product could be immune from.

Meanwhile out side the rest the heroes, both Pantheon and Minutemen, finally arrived to the scene, but before they even stepped foot, through the door, of the Orphanage, they witnessed as the Orphanage became surrounded in a green aura.

"My lord!" Willie yelled, "What in the world is that crazy Minuteman doing! She's liable to hurt the children!"

Before Willie, could charge in, Silver Fox got in his way, "You know you guys should really get to know my Sis better, because there is one things she would never do, it's harm a child."

Once the green light faded a flood of Scrumpets came running from the door, Once again the Pantheon and Minutemen that where there, fought valiantly against the flood of Scrumpets. But the battle was short for as
Borelli was the first to notice, in a matter of seconds the Scrumpets all turned a fuzzy green and shriveled and stopped all movement.

Borelli shouted, "Hey guys, I think our problems are over..."

Everyone stopped to notice the street littered with moldy, shriveled dead Scrumpets.

Dom and Del stepped out, "Well our problem, here is done. " Dom addressed the crowd, "We Minutemen, know all to well of the Scrumpets, they are like multiverse roaches, this was simply a small colony, no doubt there are more scattered through out J-street, and we need to flush all of them out."

Not about to be undone by the Minuteman Leader Hatman interrupted, "I agree, we need to make plans within our own, teams as to how we plan to tackle this Scrumpet menace."

With that said, both teams turned into a individual huddles. The second the Pantheon got in theirs Willy stated, "Did you hear! The Minutemen know what the heck those things are, I betcha they brought them over from their dimension."

Gail Concurred, "Yeah, how do we know this is not some Minuteman plot to get rid of the Pantheon?"

Meanwhile, in the Minutemen planning session. Dom noticed a missing member.

"Hey where's Jasper?"

"Oh she went to go and find Merl and Cowman, they were invaluable with the Scrumpet attack on Minuteman all that while back, she thought I'd be best to find them." Mother Askani explained.

"Okay, great idea on her part, Cable77, I need you also to bolt, go to Empath's make sure he and Francis are okay. And for Almighty's sake man, be careful! "

"Got it chief." Cable77 said right before he started running off towards the direction of Empath's Sarcastic Remarks and Coffee Emporium.

"Now the rest of you, we need a plan..." Dom began

Inside Mr. Misty's Cookies...

Once all in the League of Expendable Heroes regained their composure after the untimely and completely unexpected death of yet another of their teammates, Deadbeforechapter31 Boy. Soontodie Man, realized that indeed the Scrumpet infestation was a lot more serious than he thought, and that despite the awesome power and might of the League of Expendable Heroes, they would definitely need help. "Despite the fact that we are not in the Who's who on J-Street Brainybutveryvulnerable, so they list a group a group of heroes who are in this dimension?"

Brainybutveryvulnerable Guy still going through each entry quickly looked up and said, "AH, here we are, it says here that there is a group by the name of the Pantheon.... also a smaller faction, called the Minutemen."

"Minutemen? Like as in the muti-dimensional comic distributors?" Asked Thisonesgonnadietoo girl who had seemed to gotten over Deadbeforechapter31 Boy, pretty quick.

" I dunno, maybe. So this might just be a really good day after all, we are going to eradicate the Scrumpets once more, and we might be able to work out better discounts for our comic books!" said Unlikelytosurvive Woman

And with that said, The League of Expendable Heroes went to search for the Pantheon and Minutemen.

J Street
Mr. Misty's Cookies Baked Goods Factory

"C'mon, let's go!" exclaimed Thisonesgonnadietoo Girl as she and the rest of The League of Expendable Heroes made their way to the door.

"Um, hold on a minute," interrupted Brainybutveryvulnerable Guy as he dragged his finger along a line of text of the NEB FAQ (amended with hellgirl's "Read this or I'll Kill Ya") and then looked up. "Something's wrong."

"What is it?" inquired Unlikelytosurvivewoman.

"It's very bad," responded Brainybutveryvulnerable Guy.

"Has a character suddenly been ignored from the context of a paralell subplot to which he once belonged and inexplicably shown up in another place altogether, in a manner which violates all rules of physics, as well as cohesive storytelling, at the behest of an author guilty of poor reading comprehension?" queried Soontodie Man.

"Amazingly enough, not yet, as of this chapter."

"Did the previous chapter to this thread contribute nothing in the way of plot development save introduce the presence of an unwieldy number of characters, at a time far too late into the storyline, leaving the current author in a confunded state, unable to smoothly weave this incongruity into the story in a plausible manner?" questioned Thisonesgonnadietoo Girl.

"Nope, that happened about twenty chapters or so back. This is different."

"Has the author of the previous chapter taken into his own hands the task of finding a resolution to all errant plot threads, henceforth bringing the story to an abrupt halt, several chapters before the projected chapter of conclusion?" asked Deadbeforechapter31 Boy before the author realized that he had passed on to a higher plane of existence two chapters prior.

Brainybutveryvulnerable guy opened his mouth to once again reply in the negative, then caught himself before the words would escape his mouth. "In a manner of speaking, one could interpret that as such, but no, that wasn't what I was referring to."

"THEN WHAT IS IT?" inquired Unlikelytosurvivewoman once again.

"Brace yourselves, everyone," Brainybutveryvulnerable Guy warned. "We've just been subject to --!"

And suddenly, without warning, a Winnebago-class Carnivorous Mutant Bread Product with Bloody Sharp Teeth came crashing down to the ground, swallowing the very vulnerable Brainybutveryvulnerable Guy whole.

"NOOOOOO!!!! It's a cliffhanger which was completely ignored and until this point relegated to plot limbo!" exclaimed Thisonesgonnadietoo Girl. "What are we gonna do? WHAT ARE WE GONNA DO????"

"The only thing we can do," responded Soontodie Man as he uselessly kicked at the voracious Scrumpet which was on its way to making him die soon. "We wait for some sort of cheap plot device to bail us owwwwwWWWWW!!"

"Soontodie Man!!! NOOOOOOO!!!!" Unlikelytosurvive Woman knew that it wasn't likely that she would survive, but she ran to aid her teammate nonetheless, unfortunately to no avail. By the time she had made her way to the gigantic Scrumpet, Soontodie Man was no more. And Unlikelytosurvive Woman was next.

The Scrumpet was seconds away from feasting upon the Leaguer when suddenly --

wrrrrrrrrr

--it heard a noise --

rrrrrrrrrrrrr

-- off in the distance --

rrrrrrrrrrrrr

--and getting closer --

rrrrrrrrrrrrr

--with each passing second --

RRRRRRRRRRR

--until --

*CRASH!!!!!!!!!!*

Out of nowhere a golf cart burst through the wall, bowling over expendable hero and Scrumpet alike. The golf cart sputtered to a halt as it came to rest upon the unconscious Scrumpet, and from atop the cart emerged a man in a black jumpsuit, golden badge which read, "GCPLP" placed upon his left breast.

"Hey, look! A cop! It's John J. MacTyson!" Exclaimed Thisonesgonnadietoo Girl! "He's so dreamy!"

"And he single handedly took out the antagonistic party of this story! What a Badass!!! Maybe he'll get the bar named after him, since he's so dang kewl!!!" excalimed Unlikelytosurvive Woman.

"Um, actually, my name is Cap'n Crush. I'm a Golfcart Parking Lot Patrolman," explained the stranger.

"Oh," responded the two remaining Expendable Heroes, disappointed.

"And actually I was having trouble trouble with the brake on ol' Ernie here (that's what I call my golf cart) --one second I'm doing my duty, protecting the innocent and good shoppers of Wal-Mart from the various predators who exists within the darkest reaches of the parking lot (yeah, them stray shopping carts rolling round the lot can get reeeeeal nasty, you know), next thing I know, I somehow end up here. Where is here, anyway?"

"J Street."

"J Street? Never heard of it."

"Never heard of it?" Unlikelytosurvivewoman wrinkled her brow. "Why, it's only the one, unique J Street throughout the multiverse, the nexus of all space and time, and home to the widely reknowned heroes known as the J Street Task Force!"

"Oh, you mean J-Street?"

"No, J Street."

"J-Street. Right."

"J Street," corrected Thisonesgonnadietoo Girl.

"J-Street."

"Nevermind..."

A rumble suddenly shook the ground, as hundreds of pounds of steel and metal fell off of roughly an equivalent mass of dough. The Scrumpet had reawakened.

"Ernie!!" Screamed Cap'n Crush as his beloved golf cart, his partner, his friend crashed to the ground. "NOOOOO!!!!" he cried out in terror as the Scrumpet swallowed it whole.

"Oh, [defecation]," muttered the surviving members of the League of Expendable Heroes as they now saw themselves confronted with a gigantic Scrumpet, now at least twice its original size, after having consumed the golf cart --

-- and still showing no signs of its hunger being sated.

"There's one!"

BZOOOM!

"Hey, nice shot!"

"Mooo... Moo!"

"Got it."

BZOOOM!

"I think that's the last of them in this building." said Merlin, blowing the smoke from his Scrumpetizer. "Any word from PDSEB Central control yet?"

"MooOooo mOooo moOoooOoooooOo, MooooOoo mOoooOooOo."

"Well, we may not need them." replied Merlin, looking out the window, "it looks like the other heroes have realised what is going on, Scrumpets are getting splattered all over the street."

"Mooooooo mOooo Moooo. MOoOoooo MOoo!"

"Heh! You're right, its probably better that we get rid of the Scrumpets before PDSEB Central shows up. Knowing Wolvie, he'd blow the whole place up just to be on the safe side!"

* * *

Earth Sc

Welcome to Dimension Sc, where around the barren husk that was once planet Earth, the orbiting space station of the Pan-Dimensional Scrumpet Eradication Bureau slowly revolved.

Inside, the Bureau's commander Admiral Wolvie Smith, sat in his command chair in the station's war room, looking at the three dimensional map that marked known Scrumpet infestations throughout the multiverse. While his eyes stayed focused on the large red flashing circle that marked the infestation of the interdimensional nexus, known as J Street, his thoughts drifted off to the distant past.

He remembered when the Scrumpets had first been created in the 1960's, the product of a government baking experiment gone horribly awry. Back then he was just plain Wolvie Smith, a simple Federal Baking Investigator who found it next to impossible to convince anyone of the danger the Scrumpets presented. He had spent most of his time on the run from other agents that wanted to silence him, in case the truth of the governments involvement in the creation of the tiny pastry horrors was ever revealed.

That all changed in 1969 when a batch of Scrumpets got loose in the White House. America lost a President, and Wolvie Smith found that suddenly everyone wanted to listen to him. The Federal Scrumpet Eradication Bureau was formed, with Wolvie and the rag-tag band of followers that he had gathered during his travels, becoming fully deputised field agents.

They had fought valiantly right through the 1970's, but in many ways it was a case of too little too late. The Earth was abandoned to the Scrumpets on June 1st 1981, the human race being reduced to a few small orbiting colonies and a larger base on the moon, while left to themselves the dreaded pastries stripped the planet bare of life.

Perhaps it would have ended there, should have ended there, but instead fate decided to give the multiverse another swift kick in the teeth. A group of dimensional travelling Aliens appeared on Earth, expecting to meet with the same warm reception from the Earthlings native to that dimension, that they had received from all the other Earths they had visited. Instead, they met with a whole planet full of bloody sharp teeth.

It was then that the Scrumpets had begun their migration, using the Aliens still active dimension spanning technology to spread their destruction to countless worlds in the multiverse. A Year later, with the help of salvaged Alien technology, the Federal Scrumpet Eradication Bureau was reorganised by Wolvie Smith into the Pan-Dimensional Scrumpet Eradication Bureau. The seemingly endless task of preventing the Scrumpets from gaining too strong a foot hold in any other dimension had begun.

"We'll be in position over the ruins of Washington DC in 15 minutes Admiral." said a technician, interrupting his reverie.

"How long will it take the Tech's to align our D-shift technology to reach this J Street?" replied the Admiral

"They can't be sure Admiral, we've never encountered a dimensional nexus of this magnitude before."

"When we're on line prepare the main Scrumpetizer laser banks. No point taking any chances, we'll just toast the entire place."

"What about our Agents present on J Street?"

"What!?" shouted the Admiral jumping up from his chair. "We haven't got any agents on J Street!"

"Admiral, according to our computer, two Agents have activated their signal devices."

"Who are they?"

"Files register them only as 'M' and 'C', Admiral."

"No. Not those two." he said sitting down hard in his chair. He had know them since the 60's and they had continued to drift in and out of his life ever since. They were his friends.

"Admiral? What are your orders?"

"..."

"Admiral?"

"Proceed as planned. If J Street isn't reading a zero on the Scrumpometer when we arrive, then we toast the entire place."

[OK, so maybe you can.]

J Street PetroMart

Grendel whistled merrily to himself as he locked the gasoline pumps open, dropping the gushing nozzles on the street. Regular, Premium, Super, Diesel and even Kerosene (there were religious cults on J Street who viewed electrical heat with suspicion and insisted on using space heaters). It was rare those pansies in the Pantheon ever let him be out-and-out destructive like this.

"I'll make a fire break. You drive the Scrumpets toward it, and all our problems will be solved. Not to mention I'll have a new appetiser for the bar."

They were so panicked by the Scrumpets attacking the orphanage, it never occured to them to ask exactly what sort of firebreak he intended.

The gasoline filled the street, already emptied of passers-by by the wave of mutant bread products.

The Pantheon and Minutemen, even the J Street Task Force, were to be driving the Scrumpets toward Grendel from either end of the street. He'd light the firebreak, then duck out through the dimensional portal in the PetroMart's bathroom. (It led to the Florida Everglades on Earth MU, but beggars can't be choosers.)

Down the street, he heard the sound of high-powered energy blasts. That would be some of the heroes, he guessed, chasing the Scrumpets out of doors, herding them into the street. Loud crashing from up the street told him something similar was going on there as well.

He flicked open his UNPROFOR Zippo lighter and dropped it into the street, stepping back into the protective shadow of PetroMart's energy-resistant ProtectoField. It allowed matter through, but would keep the flames at bay.

The 1100 block of J Street exploded into flames.

From both ends of the street, Scrumpets poured towards him, pursued by superheroes.

At one end of the street, a group of strange superheroes ran in a panic before the Scrumpets, especially one the size of a small building.

"What the? Who are those morons?"

Then a familiar cry made him turn the opposite direction.

Before the wave of Scrumpets, Amazon staggered toward the firebreak, dozens of the little SOBs clinging to her flesh, weighing her down, keeping her from flying.

"Damn heavy British foodstuffs."

Amazon and the League of Expendable Heroes staggered toward the firebreak, the Scrumpets slowly, inevitably overtaking them.

"Oops."

J Street PetroMart

Amazon collapsed onto the hot concrete, buckling under the weight of the scrumpets clinging on her body.

There were just too many of them. The heat pressed on, scorching Amazon's skin. She could hear the screams of Brainybutveryvulunerable Guy and Thisonesgonnadietoo Girl among the rest of the League of Expendable Heroes as they roasted near the open flames on the other side of the street opposite her. She couldn't help them. She couldn't even help herself.

Grendel watched from the protective shadow of PetroMart's energy-resistant ProtectoField. She still had a fighting chance, he reasoned, watching the mutiny of scrumpets overrun her as the Pantheon and Minutemen heroes herded them in from behind on both ends of the street. The flames were creeping closer to Amazon by the second as she was fast disappearing under a pile of dough. This did not bode well.

There wasn't enough time to save her.

Never stopped him before.

Grendel stepped through the protective field, sprinting towards Amazon, stomping over the scrumpets.

He lost his balance as his foot sunk through a scrumpet that somehow fizzled to mush, falling face first into a puddle of gasoline, soaking his shirt with the fluid. He cursed under his breath in ancient tongues unknown to mankind, ripping through the pile of bewildered scrumpets.

The sudden release of a tremendous burden enabled Amazon to stagger to her feet, bringing her face to face a dangerously dripping wet Grendel.

"That shirt has got to go."

"Are you kidding? I love this shirt!"

Not in the mood to argue, Amazon ripped the gas-soaked shirt off Grendel, not caring what sort of reaction it would provoke, placed her arms around his waist and flew skyward just as J Street PetroMart exploded.

J Street PetroMart

Weakened by her ordeal, Amazon hadn't managed to fly very far before the inferno erupted beneath her. It was quite spectacular, she thought as she watched the pyrotechnics. Or it would be if she weren't so close to it. A massive pillar of oily flame shot straight up out of the conflagration. Right towards her.

Before she could react, it had engulfed her.

"You have to, have to, have to forget him," panted Unlikelytosurvivewoman. The heat and exertion were almost too much for her.

"But, but Ernie..." sobbed Cap'n Crush, tears spouting in all directions. They vaporized almost immediately.

"#$%@ you, I've just watched every single one of my teammates get eaten, burned alive, or simply expire from too much excitement, and I'm feeling pretty vulnerable myself! I don't have time for your insecurities! Pull yourself together, soldier!" She dragged him towards -she didn't know. The area in front of them was wall-to-wall flames, behind them was an army of man-eating Scrumpets, including one the size of a house. There was nowhere to go.

"I have a very bad feeling about this," said Unlikelytosurvivewoman.

Cap'n Crush looked up. His eyes became steel hard with determination.

"No," he said. "That, that thing killed Ernie. I won't let it get me, too! By god, I won't!"

He stepped over the charred remains of Thisonesgonnadietoo Girl and ran for the kerosene pump, which was a short ways from the others and hadn't exploded yet, grabbed a hose, and turned to the Scrumpets, who were cowering from the flames.

"Take this, you!" he shouted, and sprayed burning kerosene at the horde of bread products.

Just then the rest of the gas station exploded.

Amazon landed in front of the Pantheon, her entire body covered with soot.

"What's that?" asked Wet Willie, pointing to the blackened mass she held in her arms. "It looks like a big piece of burnt toast!"

"It's Grendel!" snapped Amazon. "He's been hurt!"

"Oh. Sorry. I thought he was a Scrumpet."

Hatman looked them over with concern. "Is he alive?"

"Yes, I'm alive," growled Grendel, moving for the first time. "And I'm having a really bad day."

Somewhere in the Florida Everglades, Earth MU...

A blackened humanoid figure sat up, covered with mud and cattails.

"Ugh," said Cap'n Crush. "What happened? Where am I?"

The 1100 block of J Street, N.W.

It was an inferno, the very air screaming as the oxygen was blasted from it.

And still the Scrumpets, driven by the Minutemen, Pantheon and J Street Task Force, poured into the block-sized kiln.

Grendel creaked free of Amazon, glaring at her balefully, staggering into the Mighty Hank's arms.

"This is exactly why I never do that hero crap." He shot Amazon a look. "I hope you appreciate this. Take me home, Hank."

"Uh, methinks ..."

"Just do it, you moron!"

Hank shrugged, scooped Grendel in his arms and turned toward the bar. He hunched over and twisted his face up in concentration.

"What's he doing?" The Wet Willie, his eyes watering from the heat and gasoline fumes, asked after a moment.

Hatman's eyes grew wide.

"No, Hank, don't do it!"

Hank farted ...

The 1100 block of J Street, N.W.

"No, Hank, don't do it!"

Hank farted.

A supercondensed stream of high-velocity methane gas shot towards the nearby raging inferno.

Fortunately Borelli, thinking faster than he had ever thought in his entire life, stuck his arm out and made a forcefield bubble around Hank and Grendel. The air-tight bubble sealed the methane gas in around the two Pantheoneers before it could reach the flames and ignite explosively.

Unfortunately, a bit of cinder and a few sparks drifting from the sky were also trapped inside the bubble. The methane ignited anyway.

Fortunately, the bubble contained the conflagration, preventing the rest of the Pantheon from suffering injury.

Unfortunately, Hank and Grendel were still inside the bubble at the time.

Fortunately, The Mighty Hank! is Mighty Tough and managed to escape unharmed (well, he singed his eyelashes a bit, but they were too long anyway).

Unfortunately, Grendel is not Mighty Tough and did not escape unscathed.

Fortunately, (well, that's a matter of perspective, I guess), Grendel already looked like the English Patient and didn't have much to lose.

Unfortunately, his nerve endings weren't all fried off yet.

Borelli dropped the forcefield to reveal a smoking Hank and and even more smoking - okay, outright smoldering Joe Grendel.

"Oops," said Hank.

"Oops," said Jason.

No one else said anything for a moment. Then Grendel swore up a blue streak. A nearby sentient telephone pole spontaneously combusted out of embarassment.

"Jason."

"Uh, yes Grendle?"

"Don't ever come near me again."

Grendel detached himself from the Mighty Hank, at whom he directed a particularly withering glare. A nearby pack of rubbernecking Liquid Rabbits from Earth HH37b shrieked and evaporated.

"OzBat?"

"Right away," said the imp.

The two bamfed out in a puff of smoke, the only one in the vicinity that wasn't directly due to the fire.

There was a long dead silence.

Wet Willie spoke up. "What was the score again?"

Somewhere in the Florida Everglades, Earth MU:

The mudcaked figure of Cap'n Crush stood at the side of a road. Beside him was a sign, a yellow diamond with the words "PANTHER CROSSING." It was the only landmark as far as the eye could see.

He looked to his left. The two-lane blacktop stretched into the featureless distance.

He looked to his right.

Same thing.

He shrugged, turned right, and started marching. As he put one foot in front of the other, eyes fixed on the vanishing point, unremarkable wooded swampland all around him, he reflected to himself that this was an amazingly perfect example of one-point perspective.

Much Later

There was a buzzing sound behind him. It took him a while to realize what it was. A vehicle of some sort. Had to be.

He stopped and turned. Several minutes later a white pickup truck slowed, came to a halt beside him.

The driver rolled down the passenger window.

"Say! You look like you seen some bad road there, fella!" came the cheery greeting. "Wanna lift?"

Cap'n Crush glanced down at the painted logo on the door of the truck.

GROUNDS MAINTENANCE
ELYSIAN FIELDS GOLF COURSE

"You bet," he said.

J Street. Gallagher Field.

Shaggy sat back down in the stands warily.

Were all the Scrumpets REALLY dead?

"That's not yer googin' problem! Uppercrust is covering the Scrumpets! You get back down to the game!"

Editors. Couldn't live with 'em, couldn't chop them into a million bloody pieces and flush them down the toilet.

The Minutemen and Pantheon wandered toward the Joe Gallagher in the middle of the field.

"As I was saying, that WAS legal," a Pantheoneer shouted.

"NO WAY," snarled a Minuteman.

Oh yeah, Shaggy put his head down in his hands. This is where we left off.

:

Somewhere in the Florida Everglades, Earth MU:

The truck driver began gibbering helplessly.

"Wh-wh-wh-what's that?" He pointed past Crush.

It better not be any [darn] Scrumpets, that's for sure.

Crush turned to find a heavy-set pile of swamp vegetation walking after him, red eyes wide.

He looked back at the truck driver, who was screaming like a little girl.

The swamp creature moved closer.

The truck driver began to weep.

Crush sighed. He'd read Marvel Comics in the 1970s. He knew what was coming next.

Whatever knows fear BURNS at the touch of the Man-Thing!

Crush cracked his knuckles as the truck driver screamed at the Man-Thing's touch.

"There's got to be a better way to make a living."

The Game proceeded like nothing had ever happened. Well, they had to take some time off to rebuild Jyu's mem-ahem-the Pitchers mound. In order to continue the game.

But other than that, it was fine.

+What do you mean fine? Who the goog is batting?
-Why, I don't know. Maybe the Temporary Scrumpet?
+No, you nitwit. You have not been paying attention to the chapters, haven't you?
-Well, I_
+You went over hellscrumpy's "read this or die in flames" post and posted without proper background check?
-I, well, the humans were_
+Humans, shumans! You have to post carefully! Or are you itching to be flamed?
-No, but_
+No buts! Don't you realize what you're doing?
-Um no?
+You're lowering the quality of Scrumpet Comics! It's because of people like you who post without using their brains that we're never going to make it on the real market. We'll never win millions of dollars and fanboys will never drool with every page we write. I may have to return my new lamborghini because of you.
-But you don't have a lamborghini.
+See what I mean? Your stupidity has doomed us all.
-But I'm just a lowly pastry_
+You're darn right you are. And quit jabbering. You're making me sick.

Willie heard this heated exchange of words and looked down from his place. Right inside the Pantheon Dugout there were two scrumpets left, bickering like there was no tomorrow.

"I didn't know you things could speak." Said Willie as he looked at the pastries.
"+No one ever asked us, sparky."
"Who are you?" asked Willie.
"+I'm Joe Scrundel. And I'm in the middle of a very important pow-wow with my friend redScrumpet, so get out from here!"

Willie opened his eyes in amazement. Remembering the smurfs invasion that took place on the ill-fated Pantheon Players Present, and fearing the return of the Scrumpets, he stomped on the ones he had in front of him until a poodle of ooze emerged from beneath his spikes.

"Come on, Willie, what's keeping you?" asked the Gallumpire.

"nuthin, ump. I'll be right there."

MacTyson, Merlin and Cowman wandered near the park.

"We haven't encountered a single scrumpet in ten minutes, chaps. I think the infestation has been controlled." Merlin looked pleased, He took a hefty drink from his hip-flask and let out a happy sigh.

"MoomMooOoO mOoo?"

"Wolvie Smith? I sure hope he doesn't show up. I remember once he blew up half a city to wipe a single scrumpet."

"Why did he do that?" MacTyson said, worried.

"Ah. The chap's a bit exaggerated. There had been a scrumpet outbreak outside New Metropolis. But the ever-vigilant Agent S had contained it. Then the PDSEB Central stepped in and claimed the city was infested again. They opened fire with all they got. Then the truth came up. The Scrumpet Scanners were malfunctioning and reported 10000% more than the actual number of remaining scrumpets."

"Then this Wolvie character places too much faith on malfunctioning equipment?"

"It doesn't malfunction all the time."

"MoOOOoo?"

"Well, sometimes it does_"

"MooOoO?!"

"So okay, the whole thing's just a bloody piece of crap. But you try to get high skilled technicians on a god-forsaken scrumpet devoured planet."

"MoOmOo."

"Sorry."

MacTyson looked worried. "Maybe Wolvie won't show up."

"Knowing how our stories always turn out? Fat chance!"

The Softball Game of the Century continued.
The stands, as well as the bleachers were packed once again. You couldn't fit a needle even if you wanted to. Vendors had a hard time trying to get his merchandise to the thirsty, hungry and collector minded public.

"Git ya Pantheon-Minuteman Softball Trading Cards here! Git ya new Softball trading cards pack here! Two for five dollars. Git ya_"

redRicky jerked his head up when he heard that voice. "Say what amigo?"
The vendor approached. "The Pantheon Minuteman Softball Trading Cards got your attention? Good. They're fresh off the presses. Smell them. New ink! Oboy, this is great. They're selling like hot cakes!"

redRicky took one of the packs and opened it. "So, who is on the cards?"
The vendor smiled. "Who isn't? Check them out, my friend." Ricky eyed his pack.

"Let's see I got a full Pantheon Pack. Grendel's Third Base card, Hank's rookie card, Gallaumpire's vital stats, Borelli's Out Fielder card, even Wet Willie's MVP Hologram Platinum Card."

"You didn't miss the redRicky Pitcher card, did you?"

"Nope. Here it is. And there's some bubble gum too." He tossed it into his mouth and began chewing. "Hmm. Tastes good. Which flavor is it?"

"Scrumpet!" answered the vendor. "They're a hot item this season."

Unable to spit the ball of bubble gum, redRicky paid for his cards and ran toward the Pantheon Dugout in frantic search for the bathroom. He had to get something off his chest (or a couple of inches below).

Hatman had finished talking with the mariachis and the cows after the battle. Yoko was not very happy with the scrumpet goo that had embedded on its hooves. Beauregard complained that the scrumpets almost had him for breakfast. And Gringo was p.oed because his beautiful and new mariachi suit was shredded. Hatman had tried everything to calm them down, finally succeeding after long and hard negotiations.

"Now there's a fine mess I got myself into this time. A pedicure for a cow? I'll have to check with the J Street beauticians guild. Beauregard and the rest of the rabbits want cable inside the Top Hat. How will I ever wing that one? And Gringo's suit_I didn't know Earth Mariachi cloth was so rare!"

Thunder and lightning circled around in what appeared to be a miniature storm that floated a couple of feet from the street.

With a mighty explosion, the clouds rolled and the storm lifted. On it's wake, a figure stirred.

Dizzy, disoriented and tired, the figure walked around, unsteady on his feet. He shook his head, trying to form a coherent thought. His eyes focused clearer every time.
"wh, where am I?" He blinked once, twice, trying to get everything inside his mind. He saw that he was on a street.
"human settlements! Good! It's been so long since I've seen another human" His eyes rested on a sign. Fortunately, he could recognize the symbols. "J Street"

Barely clothed and barefoot, he walked on.

Both Minutemen and Pantheon had decided to replay the ninth inning.

Renewed interest in the ball game, would help raise enough revenue to fund the rebuilding of the J Street Orphanage.

Oddly enough, this presented a new dilemma for the Pantheon's Coach. . .

Who was in good enough a shape, to withstand the rigors of closing the game?

Who indeed?