Post by Ninmast on Apr 20, 2007 14:47:29 GMT -5
Time Period: Modern
Power Level: Any
Don't bother asking me why, because I won't tell you. You'll have to just trust me that I know what I'm doing.
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Schott attached the last circuit to what looked to be the bottom of a large trampoline with a psychotic little laugh. "There! The last little piece of my gateway is complete!" He rolled out from under it and stood to look over his project as he rubbed his hands together eagerly before pulling his mask over his face. "Finally, I'll be able to travel to another world, where kids still appreciate REAL toys, and if they don't, the Man of Steel won't be around to stick his moronic nose into their ... re-education!"
He flipped a switch and took a few steps back, then ran forward and jumped up onto the trampoline as the tarp glowed a brilliant blue. "Ah ha ha ha ha ha! Bonzai!"
* * *
Instead of landing on it, he passed through it, landing easily on the sidewalk of another version of Earth. He only took a few steps forward before he found himself outside a toy store.
"How perfect ... an excellent opportunity to see just what this world has for its children ..." Without any hesitation, and ignoring the strange glances his black and brown costume got him, he pushed the door open and stepped in. He found the first employee he could and stopped them, a young woman in a red vest and a name tag. "Excuse me, madam, but I'm from out of town. I'm here for a costume party for the kids of a friend of mine, and silly me, I forgot to get a present! Could you show me what the typical toys for children are, what they're most likely to enjoy?"
The woman seemed surprised by his outfit at first, but she seemed to accept the explanation and gave him a smile. "Certainly. Please, come this way."
What she showed him, what she treated as so normal, was far worse than he had even dreamt of. Violent video games advertised as Plug and Play! So children are only moments away from slicing and dicing each other. Guns, dolls dressed like strippers, brain-killing idiocies like monster action figures and console games that depicted big-breasted bimbos and massive men, all packing firepower that would make the Marines jealous.
It was one of these that he stopped before and pointed to. "Just what is the age recommendation on these things," he asked.
The poor fool just smiled brightly and said in reassurance, "Oh, we make sure parents know they shouldn't go to anyone under the age of ten."
"TEN?!?" Schott demanded, the sudden shout causing the woman to jump back. "You think these are decent for TEN year olds? They're not decent for grown men!"
"Please, sir, settle down," the woman urged him.
"Settle down? I will not!" he declared as he drew out from his pocket three little wind-up mice. "I'll solve this problem once and for all!"
* * *
The news of the explosion at the toy store was soon followed by that of a city's worth of children being kidnapped, one after another. No one knew where they went, no one knew who took them. It wasn't until later that evening that an announcement by the man who claimed responsibility for it was forced over the airwaves.
"Greetings, you lousy world of irresponsible brats! I'll bet you're missing all of your little kids, aren't you? Well, the Toyman has decided to offer you a deal! I've noticed your world has many heroes of its own. If they have the drive to save the children, let them come to these coordinates you see on your screen. If not, I'll continue the reeducation of your children in good, proper fun, instead of your terrible, criminally reprehensible entertainment. Oh, and superbrats, I hope you bundle up nice. The Antarctic is awfully chilly this time of year! Ha hee hee hee hee ho ho!"
* * *
A pink-haired girl, probably no older than 16, landed on the frozen tundra not long after the broadcast. Despite her bright colors, her face was drawn in lines of fury. She had clearly come hoping to bash heads, and the leather short coat and wool-lined pants looked thick enough to keep her warm without taking away from the intimidation of the fists covered in matching fingerless gloves.
Power Level: Any
Don't bother asking me why, because I won't tell you. You'll have to just trust me that I know what I'm doing.
----------------------------------------------------------------
Schott attached the last circuit to what looked to be the bottom of a large trampoline with a psychotic little laugh. "There! The last little piece of my gateway is complete!" He rolled out from under it and stood to look over his project as he rubbed his hands together eagerly before pulling his mask over his face. "Finally, I'll be able to travel to another world, where kids still appreciate REAL toys, and if they don't, the Man of Steel won't be around to stick his moronic nose into their ... re-education!"
He flipped a switch and took a few steps back, then ran forward and jumped up onto the trampoline as the tarp glowed a brilliant blue. "Ah ha ha ha ha ha! Bonzai!"
* * *
Instead of landing on it, he passed through it, landing easily on the sidewalk of another version of Earth. He only took a few steps forward before he found himself outside a toy store.
"How perfect ... an excellent opportunity to see just what this world has for its children ..." Without any hesitation, and ignoring the strange glances his black and brown costume got him, he pushed the door open and stepped in. He found the first employee he could and stopped them, a young woman in a red vest and a name tag. "Excuse me, madam, but I'm from out of town. I'm here for a costume party for the kids of a friend of mine, and silly me, I forgot to get a present! Could you show me what the typical toys for children are, what they're most likely to enjoy?"
The woman seemed surprised by his outfit at first, but she seemed to accept the explanation and gave him a smile. "Certainly. Please, come this way."
What she showed him, what she treated as so normal, was far worse than he had even dreamt of. Violent video games advertised as Plug and Play! So children are only moments away from slicing and dicing each other. Guns, dolls dressed like strippers, brain-killing idiocies like monster action figures and console games that depicted big-breasted bimbos and massive men, all packing firepower that would make the Marines jealous.
It was one of these that he stopped before and pointed to. "Just what is the age recommendation on these things," he asked.
The poor fool just smiled brightly and said in reassurance, "Oh, we make sure parents know they shouldn't go to anyone under the age of ten."
"TEN?!?" Schott demanded, the sudden shout causing the woman to jump back. "You think these are decent for TEN year olds? They're not decent for grown men!"
"Please, sir, settle down," the woman urged him.
"Settle down? I will not!" he declared as he drew out from his pocket three little wind-up mice. "I'll solve this problem once and for all!"
* * *
The news of the explosion at the toy store was soon followed by that of a city's worth of children being kidnapped, one after another. No one knew where they went, no one knew who took them. It wasn't until later that evening that an announcement by the man who claimed responsibility for it was forced over the airwaves.
"Greetings, you lousy world of irresponsible brats! I'll bet you're missing all of your little kids, aren't you? Well, the Toyman has decided to offer you a deal! I've noticed your world has many heroes of its own. If they have the drive to save the children, let them come to these coordinates you see on your screen. If not, I'll continue the reeducation of your children in good, proper fun, instead of your terrible, criminally reprehensible entertainment. Oh, and superbrats, I hope you bundle up nice. The Antarctic is awfully chilly this time of year! Ha hee hee hee hee ho ho!"
* * *
A pink-haired girl, probably no older than 16, landed on the frozen tundra not long after the broadcast. Despite her bright colors, her face was drawn in lines of fury. She had clearly come hoping to bash heads, and the leather short coat and wool-lined pants looked thick enough to keep her warm without taking away from the intimidation of the fists covered in matching fingerless gloves.