Let's You And Him Fight!
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"For men must never feel a cause is hopeless-- men must never feel an enemy cannot be beaten!"
-Stan Lee
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~"The £#%$?" asked The Omega Man, currently in his civilian identity of James Megaron; billionaire playboy, "How the heck did I get to New York?"

  "What do you mean?" asked Dr. Alex Richards, the secret identity of Doctor Confuso, The Omega Man's partner in crime-fighting, "We've been operating out of New York ever since the Invasion of 2012; this is where all the action is!"

  "What invasion?" asked Omega glancing about his surroundings to confirm their realness, "And we didn't start hanging out again until 2014; what's going on?"

  Before Dr. Richards could answer, an explosion rocked the city streets sending rubble flying and turning the general public into a screaming mass of hysteria.


  A lone figure flew into view standing on the back of an enormous owl, wearing a ridiculously tight outfit clearly inspired by David Bowie's character Jareth from the film Labyrinth, complete with fluffy 80s hair and stuffed crotch-bulge. Cackling madly, the man threw glass orbs at the panicked crowd with wild abandon, each sphere exploding on impact.

  "The Goblin King is back!" cried Alex, glancing around to ensure no bystanders were watching, "I'll clear the civilians, you distract GK!"

  Dr. Richards thrust his fist forward and activated his signet ring; when he pulled his fist back, the pocket dimension contained in the ring washed over him, converting his street clothes to a garishly colored set of body armor under a flowing lab coat, with an old-fashioned plague doctor mask over his face. Doctor Confuso projected a forcefield between a running family and some falling debris, then looked at Omega.

  "What are you doing?" the good Doctor asked, "Go fight the Goblin King!"

  "Uh, right," replied The Omega Man uncertainly, "Fight the Goblin King; I can do that."

  The Omega Man mentally prepared himself for battle, charged toward the bomb-slinging lunatic and–

*Page Missing!*
  "The £#%$?" asked The Omega Man in confusion, taking in the carnage around him, as well as the NYPD escorting the defeated Goblin King into the back of a prisoner transport, "What just happened?"

  "I know, right?" replied Doctor Confuso, clapping a hand on his partner's shoulder, "That was a heck of a battle! I honestly thought we were goners for a minute, until that desperation move of yours; I still can't believe you bit his junk, but hey, it worked!"

  "The double £#%$?" Omega cried in a mixture of surprise and disgust, "Listen, Alex, I dont–"

  "Shhh!" Confuso hushed him quietly, "Don't blow my secret identity, dude!"

  "We're world famous pro wrestlers," The Omega Man reminded him, "Everybody knows who we are."

  "Did you get hit in the head, or something?" the Doctor asked with some concern, "I didn't get a degree in molecular biology so I could become a wrestler, dude; we're superheroes."

  "Okay, I am clearly not in Kansas anymore," The Omega Man began, only to be interrupted by Doctor Confuso.

  "I think you might have a concussion," Dr. Richards said, opening his ostensibly outdated doctor's bag, and rummaging through the collection of serums, tonics, and potions contained therein, "We just established that we're in New York."

  "Darn it, Al– chum, will you listen to me?" said The Omega Man in frustration, "Something weird is going on; I'm pretty sure this isn't my reality, and I need to figure out where I am, and how to get home!"

  Doctor Confuso ceased his rummaging and looked at his friend, then tapped at the side of his mask, changing the tint of his shaded goggles from onyx to ruby. A quick scan of The Omega Man's genetic code was compared to the information on file, and confirmed what Omega was saying.

  "Well that changes things," Dr. Richards said as he deactivated the bioscanners, "I'm going to need you to come to my lab, so I can run a few tests; I might be able to help you."

*Page Flip!*
  The Omega Man perched on the corner of a skyscraper rooftop, surveying the sparkling beauty of Manhattan's nighttime skyline sprawled before him. A rush of air sounded behind him, and Omega turned to find his on-again, off-again love interest - the interstellar heroine Princess Power - alighting by the access stairwell.

  "Pleasant greetings, James," cooed the purple-skinned alien warrior, "I had hoped to find you here."

  "Tasha?" Omega asked in surprise, his expression quickly becoming suspicious, "No, just this world's variant. Listen, I hate to break it to you, but I ain't who you think I am. I mean, yeah, I'm Jay Omega, but I'm not the one from here."

  "A multiverse traveller?" exclaimed Princess Power, "How fascinating! Sadly, I am in no condition to query you about your home dimension; I am seeking James because the hazrahk is upon me, and I feel my loins may catch fire if I do not find release soon."

  "The hazrahk, eh?" Omega said with a lascivious grin, remembering the crushing grip of his wife's passionate embrace in the midst of the Darrikaan mating cycle, "I can't say I know where your me is, but I'm right here, and what kind of hero would I be if I didn't offer to help a damsel who is so clearly in distress?"

  A matching smile spread across Princess Power's face, and she reached behind her back to unclasp her top, the moonlight shining on the pale violet orbs of her–

*Several-Pages-Stuck-Together Flip!*
  "Oh, come on!" yelled The Omega Man, startling the wedding guests, "Wait, wedding guests? What the £#%$?"

  A quick glance substantiated the fact; the ornate church was occupied by dozens upon dozens of well-dressed attendees, awaiting the matrimonial ceremony of billionaire playboy James Megaron, and British Baroness Elspeth Davenport. 

  "If I may continue?" asked the priest officiating the wedding, "Now, if there are any present who have reason why these two should not be wed, let them speak now, or forever hold their peace."

  "I have a reason!" cried a voice from the back of the assembled onlookers; a man stood up, wearing a skintight blue bodysuit with a golden lightning bolt emblazoned on the chest, "Because you're all going to die at the hands of Gigwatt, unless The Omega Man and Doctor Confuso arrive in the next fifteen minutes! Bwahahahaha!"

  Megaron shared a quick glance with Dr. Richards, who surreptitiously tapped his signet ring and shook his head ever so slightly. Fed up, James rolled his eyes and threw up his hands.

  "Oh, £#%$ this!" shouted Omega, as he stepped down from the altar and strode purposefully toward Gigawatt, "Bud, I don't know or care who you are, but you picked the worst £#%$ing day to crash a wedding. I still have no idea how I got here, I have no £#%$ing clue what's been going on, I'm skipping through time like a gosh darn stone, and why the £#%$ do I sound like that when I swear?!?"

  Gigawatt's laughter trailed off as Jay approached him, though his menacing smile remained. The apparent supervillain raised his golden-gauntleted hand, arcs of electricity crackling along the length of his arm.

  "Oh, just sit down, prettyboy," Gigawatt said in a threatening tone, "You don't really expect me to be intimidated by an indolent–"

  The would-be hostage-taker cut off as Omega closed his mouth for him with a superkick. Gigawatt collapsed to the ground unconscious, and Jay looked down at him in disdain.

  "Gods, I hate this trope," Omega said quietly to himself, then turned to see everyone staring at him in stunned silence. Thinking quickly, Jay said the first thing that came to mind, "No ticket."

*Page Flip!*
  "Oh, thank £#%$!" The Omega Man said, then looked down at the high tech power armor he wore; took in the numerous, brightly costumed corpses that littered the broken landscape, and hung his head, "Oh, £#%$ me gently."

  “Omega Man, Doctor Confuso,” a strained voice called, drawing his attention to Blue Streak, a bloodied heap of a man in a blue-and-white Spandex suit that simulated the Doppler Effect, “It’s Professor Oblivion, he’s somehow reassembled the Necrotome Despisia. The Revengers and I were no match for him, we need you to bring in the big guns; call for the Just-Us League!”

  “”Like £#%$ we will,” Omega said gruffly, “I see a trail of broken bodies leading up to yon mountaintop, but those namby-pamby, street-level wannabes don’t have the killer instinct, the willingness to do what needs to be done to keep the scum from coming back. I don’t need some doe-eyed hopeful trying to police my morality, trying to reshape the world into what she thinks it should be. You sit tight, Doc, I’ll handle this my way.”

  Muttering to himself, The Omega Man stalked angrily toward a jagged rock face protruding from the ground at a steep angle; his gaze locked on the armor-plated despot who stood atop it. As Omega approached, Doctor Doom Professor Oblivion raised his fist and splayed his fingers outward, sending a horde of Oblividroids down the slope. As the mechanical mass approached, Omega felt a warm rush as he anticipated the release of his pent up frustrations. The Omega Man dodged a plasma blast from an incoming Oblividroid, then leapt forward and drove his armored fist through the android's chest.


  A pair of Oblividroids came within arm’s reach, and Omega put one down with a fist to the face.


  The Omega Man leapt over the third Oblividroid, firing his repulsors as he did so, driving the android into the rock.


    “See? This is a £#%$ing cakewalk!” Omega called back to Blue Streak, who had no doubt bled out by now, “I sure as $#!% don’t need some kid-friendly, goody-two-shoes, costumed crusaders taking up the spotlight, either! I applaud Tango and Batty for their efforts in upholding justice, I just don’t agree with their methods.”

  The Omega Man went low, and swept in under the guard of an Oblividroid with a double palm uppercut, assisted by a dual blast from his repulsors.


  “Nostalgia can be a wonderful thing, I get it,” Omega continued as he steadily advanced on the awaiting megalomaniac, “But trying to turn back the clock to an era of clean-cut, respectful youth, old fashioned sportsmanship, and traditional values is a fool’s errand. The Just-Us League would be better served accepting the world as it is, and working within it. People suck, some more than others, and it’s always gonna be that way. By all means, keep pushing the message of freedom, kindness, and equality on the kids; you’re bound to make a difference in more than a few lives with your wholesome appearance, but it’s just an appearance, isn’t it?”

  “Are you talking to the Just-Us League?” asked Doctor Confuso, speaking loudly to be heard over the din of battle, “’Cause, like, you do know they’re not here, right?”

  “Don’t need to be, old chum,” Omega replied casually, ducking under a wild swing from a malfunctioning Oblividroid with half its faceplate melted, “Nature of the game.”

  The Omega Man finished off the Oblividroid with another repulsor blast, then leapt high into the air as a barrage of concussive missiles struck the space he’d just vacated, sending chunks of rock flying in all directions. Omega caught one such chunk in midair, and redirected its momentum back down at the group of murder machines.


  “While looking into the heroic antics of Batty and Tango, I’ve picked up on a few subtleties,” The Omega Man continued as he landed in a picture perfect three-point stance, “I think there’s a bit more to Miss Bat’s powers than she’s telling us. I’m wondering whether or not this science experiment gone wrong, maybe had something to do with vampire bats, specifically? See, you do a good job of hiding it, Batty, but I’ve noticed you struggling with your inner nature from time to time. Is that why you throw yourself into this heroic persona? Are you overcompensating for the dark desires that dwell within you? Maybe trying to make up for some atrocious misdeed in your past?”

  A swarm of Oblividroids enveloped Omega, completely blocking any sight of him. Just as Doctor Confuso moved to help his friend, a high-pitched whine split the air, building until a shockwave sent the milling mass of mechanical men hurtling in all directions as The Omega Man surged to his feet.


  “Is that why you wear the mask, Batty?” asked Omega, standing amidst the rain of scrap metal, “Is it because you know that, as is the case with Mark Flynn, people won’t give you a fair shake at your noble attempt to be good, based on something you may or may not have done before? But at least you’re out and about doing good deeds in an organic fashion, not manufacturing photo ops. Truth be told, I’ve always been an ‘in the moment’ kind of guy; I judge a person based on who they are today, not what troubling actions they may have taken previously. I don’t care who you are underneath that mask, because it’s the choices you make and what you do today that defines your identity, not your name, your face, or your history.”

  His mechanical army spent, Professor Oblivion beckoned for The Omega Man to approach him, his olive green cape billowing in the wind as he rose into the air. Unwilling to fight on his enemy’s terms, Omega instead opted for a long-range attack, firing a volley of micro-missiles from a pair of launchers that popped up from his shoulderplates. The warheads impacted harmlessly against Oblivion’s forcefield, and Omega used the ensuing smokescreen to fly up and above the dastardly Professor, dropping down on him with a rocket-assisted double axe-handle that caused the forcefield to crackle, flare, and shatter into shards of violet energy. The Omega Man’s momentum carried him through, and the impact drove Professor Oblivion into the rocky outcrop with enough force to crack the stone.

  “On that note, let’s turn our attention to the other half of this dynamic duo, the Nighty Knight; Blue Tango.” Omega dove downward, driving a knee into Professor Oblivion’s midsection that dented the breastplate, “You’ve come a long way from the bumbling, inept sidekick who got denied membership to the Hero’s Guild pending a probationary period, dude. Since your, ahem, ‘debut’ back in March, I’ve watched you grow to be almost as capable a crime fighter as your partner. That’s right, I’ve had my eye on both of you for some time now; I may think you guys are a little soft, and your ideologies out of date, but we are ultimately on the same side. My partner and I are better at it than you, is all.”

  An armored right hand found its way to Oblivion’s faceplate, knocking enough sense back into the villain for him to repel The Omega Man with a blast of putrid green sorcery. Omega twisted himself about, once again landing in a three-point stance, then immediately resumed the attack.

  “See, while you struggle to clean up the streets of a single city,” The Omega Man dropped into a powered slide that took him safely under a crackling blue bolt of electricity, and popped up into a rocket-assisted knee lift that drove Professor Oblivion back, “I have saved literally the entire galaxy, on more than one occasion. You ever heard of the Xyklosian Hegemony? No, no you haven’t, and you’re welcome for that. Ugly centaur-demon things with a militaristic society, and an economy based on war and expansion. The point is, you can barely handle yourself against a bad influence like the Smoker, whereas I put down a dozen alien monsters before breakfast, then wipe out a band of space pirates before lunch.”

  In desperation, Oblivion threw a salvo of sickly yellow fireballs at Omega, who swiftly stepped and deftly dodged between them as he closed the distance between him and his quarry. Professor Oblivion fired off his ultimate weapon, a devastating energy beam that lanced out from his fist, leaving a score of molten metal on the side of Omega’s helmet as he barely avoided it. The Omega Man clamped an iron grip on Oblivion’s wrist, forcing the beam up, then back, and directing it toward the Professor’s own face. Oblivion’s scream of agony became a wet gurgle, then finally silence, and The Omega Man dropped what was left of him.

  “That said, this Doomsayer guy seems like nasty business,” Omega said, looting the supervillain’s corpse for the book of dark magicks, “I can assure you there won’t be any hard feelings on my end, no matter how this meeting between us goes; we’re all heroes, to varying degrees. So, in the likely event you guys find yourselves in over your heads, feel free to call on the Guardians Protection Services for aid; we’ll even give you a ‘fellow heroes’ discount.”

*Cover Close!*
  “This comic book sucks! What else ya got?” declared little Johnny Jenerichid, tossing the dog-eared comic back into the scattered pile of rejects, and reaching for the next book in the stack.~