Post by Rogues' Gallery on Feb 13, 2024 16:47:49 GMT -5
Sometime in the future, far from now…
Superunknown sits in his small cell watching as time slips by. He doesn't know exactly where he is, or even when he is. The last time we saw him, he stepped through a portal and into the office of the Technocrat. An evil half-man, half-cyborg bent on world domination, ruling through social technology that would make Xi Xinping or Klaus Schwab giddy. The Technocrat revealed his plans to Superunknown before springing a trap door and sending him down a chute to this prison cell.
Here, in this cell, he is forced to watch on a monitor as the evil clones which have replaced him and Jeremy The Wicked in their own time beat the Show Stealerz in the first round of the S.E.X. Cup and then devastated the Putties on the following Friday Night Fury. Next up on the screen is Rogues’ Gallery vs S.E.X. themselves at the Uncivil War event. A match he should be in, not his evil clone.
Superunknown sits quietly, in a deep state of meditation. He is back in the Crystal Starship but it is in tremendous disrepair. Superunknown is not exactly sure how long it has been neglected, but from the cobwebs and broken down equipment, it seems like a long time.
Suddenly, back with his body, Superunknown hears the door raise in the cell next to his, though he can't see anything. He hears a robotic guard say:
Guard: Proceed forward, prisoner.
Superunknown then hears a familiar voice.
JTW: I'm going! Get your tin can hands off of me!
Guard: Please proceed forward, prisoner. I will not ask again!
JTW: I’m going! AHHHHHH!!! DO NOT zap me again, motherfudger!
Superunknown hears the door close, he waits a few moments before he knocks on the wall.
Superunknown: Jeremy, are you over there?
JTW: Oh snap, Supes… is that you?
Superunknown: Yes.
JTW: Where the hell are we?
Superunknown: I’m not sure that is the right question, the real question is when are we? That is the first thing we need to figure out if we are going to escape.
JTW: Ok… so… when are we?
Superunknown: This is a hard question to answer, but if I had to guess by the state of the crystal starship. We’re about a hundred years in the future or so.
Rogues’ Gallery; Jeremy The Wicked and Superuknown sit at a small table in Buffalo Wild Wings somewhere within the massive state of Texas.
Several empty pint glasses litter the table top. Two fresh beers sit in front of them. Jeremy burps and Duncan scratches his ass as they stare up at the big screen overhead showing a replay of the Super Bowl.
Superunknown: You know, I don't get it. I have no idea what these morons see in this stupid game… a bunch of overgrown man babies fighting over a ball? It's absurd if you ask me.
JTW: People love their sports ball, dude. Bread and circuses, dude. Gotta keep the mass fat and distracted.
Superunknown: In our glorious future there is no need for this kind of pacifier. Our digital currency ensures that people play along and don't cause trouble. If you're caught breaking the rules or not toeing the line, you don't eat, it's that simple. Money is turned off.
JTW: Man… The Technocrat’s really got it all figured out, don't he?
Superunknown: Yes he does, my intellectually challenged partner, yes he does.
JTW picks up his beer and chugs half of it down, he belches again and wipes his mouth.
Superunknown: But… we aren't here to bring order to this… barbaric place. We are here to do the exact opposite. We are here to sow chaos. To wreck total havoc to the point where these people are begging us to stop.
JTW smiles.
Superunknown: And we will look them in the eyes and respond with an empathic, no. We started with the Show Stealerz and continued with the Putties, next up is Sports Entertainment Xpress or the Nefarious Wrestling Outsiders… “Too Sweet” Terry Marshall and Dark Lord, also known as “Thundering” Terry Marshall and Space Lord. They may claim to be the REAL Bad Guys.
JTW: But they ain't seen nothin’ yet, dude.
Superunknown: No, they haven't. The Technocrat made digital copies of Superunknown and Jeremy The Wicked and had them tortured, beaten and utterly demoralized until he stripped out even the smallest bit of good nature that may have existed within them. He boiled Superunknown down to his most brutal essence and Jeremy down to nothing but wickedness and he created us using those copies. We are in every sense of the word… Rogues’ Gallery evil twins.
JTW polishes off the rest of his beer.
JTW: And I gotta say, I'm enjoying every fudging bit of it.
Superunknown: Of course, so am I… just like I'm going to enjoy beating the absolute hell out of the WGWF Tag-Team Champions. I am going to enjoy breaking down Terry Marshall and Space Lord down to hollow shells and then smashing those shells into a million fudging pieces. Then we will take those pieces and set them on fire before we stomp them out until there is absolutely nothing left but ash.
JTW: They might be bad guys, dude but we're totally from a hell they cannot possibly fathom and we're going to give S.E.X. or the nWo–or whatever, dude–a taste of that hell at Uncivil War. We're going to the AT&T arena not to respresent TPW and the Cabal. Hell, we aren't even interested representing ourselves too much, we’re going with the intention of raping and pillaging. Maximum violence, extreme chaos is the goal. We're going to make these normies stomachs turn and winning, well, winning is just icing on top of the whole fudging cake, my dudes and dudettes.
Superunknown: These people are nothing without their heroes and we intend to break those heroes down team by team until there is nothing left but us and our malice.
The waitress sauntered over.
Waitress: Y'all want another round?
Superunknown: No, we'll take the check, toots. I can't wait to get out of this shithole.
Waitress: I'll get your check, but you don't have to be rude about it.
The waitress said as she spun around on her heels. JTW picks at some chees fries whole Superunknown sips at his final beer while they wait. After a few moments the waitress comes and slams the check down on the table, not saying a word.
JTW: What crawled up that sweet ass of yours?
Waitress: Excuse me?!
JTW: You heard me… What it seems like you haven't heard of though is service with a smile.
The waitress shakes her head.
Waitress: Unbelievable… just pay your damn check and goo and get out of here please!
Superunknown tosses a wad of bills on the table.
Superunknown: That should cover it… come on, Jeremy, let’s get the fudge out of here.
Rogues’ Gallery get up from their seats and make their way toward the door. They exit the restaurant and head out into the parking lot. A small kid, maybe 10 years old and his mother spot them.
Kid: Hey! It’s Rogues’ Gallery!
JTW keeps walking, avoiding eye contact and pretending to not have heard or seen the child, while Superunknown stops walking and turns toward the kid and the mother.
Kid: Hey, Mr. Superunknown can I have your autograph?
Superunknown: Piss off, kid.
Mom: Excuse me?! What the hell did you just say to him?!
Superunknown: I told the little brat to get lost. You should get lost too, bitch!
Superunknown waves his hand at them.
Mom: He is 10 years old! He is a big fan of yours!
Superunknown chuckles.
Superunknown: Well, probably not anymore.
Kid: You know what, Mr? You can go double-decker fudge yourself!
Superunknown laughs again.
Superunknown: The boy’s got some mouth on him.
Mom: And you should be ashamed of yourself.
Superunknown chuckles again as JTW brings the car around. JTW brings the car to a stop closeby and rolls the window down.
JTW: Come on, let’s get the fudge out of here, Supes. I gotta take a Poop man.
Superunknown opens the door and climbs into the passenger seat, before he slams the door shut and Rogues’ Gallery drives off.
Back in their respective prison cells, Jeremy The Wicked and Superunknown sit as the seconds, minutes, hours, and days add up. Their only sustenance comes in the form of some kind of heavily processed slop filled to the brim with seed oils, microplastics, and parasites.
Suddenly, the doors to their respective cells raise and each man is greeted by a guard.
Guards: Prisoner, come with me.
JTW and Superunknown step out of their cells and are happy to see each other.
JTW: Fancy meeting you here.
Superunknown: Is it?
JTW: Gallows humor, bro. Gallows humor.
Guards: Follow us now.
JTW and Superunknown have been affixed with shock collars and so they have no choice but to obey these commands. They are led through the corridors of the prison, a sprawling behemoth of pain and misery to the place where they would be administered “re-education.”
Each one is strapped to a chair and an IV containing some unknown fluid is stuck in their arms. Soon, they are loopy and as JTW begins to fade in and out of consciousness, he looks across the room to see a shadowy figure standing there.
Shadow: Hello Jeremy…
JTW is quickly fading, but he is able to get a few words out.
JTW: Where… where have you been?
Shadow: It has taken me a long time to find you. The Technocrat has taken many steps to try and ensure that neither you nor your partner would be found while your evil counterparts created havoc and chaos back in our time.
JTW: Wait… how… did… you time travel?
Shadow: I was with you when you stepped into the time anomaly, but we were separated and I was thrown several thousand years in the past. I experienced millenia on my quest back here, communed with many priests and philosophers. I even haunted your evil counterparts a bit.
JTW: So… can we get out of here?
Shadow shakes his head.
Shadow: Sadly, no… this is not that part of the story, yet. I am still searching for an answer to this quagmire we find ourselves in. Perhaps now that I’ve arrived in this timeline, I can do some snooping around. There must be a way for you to escape and return to your time. I just haven’t cracked that yet. I’m sorry for what you have to endure before we get to that point in our story.
JTW: What… what do you mean?
Shadow: I must go now.
A rubber mouthpiece is placed in his mouth before JTW screams out loud as his body is flooded with high voltage electroshock. He seizes violently against the restraints on his wrists and ankles. A small drone–we have to assume is administering JTW’s “treatment” and initiating his “re-education”--hovers just above his bed. The electroshock is done in waves and each time JTW struggles against his restraints, but cannot escape. After the final wave a VR headset is placed on is eyes and the re-education begins to play.
NOW.
RELAX.
AND WATCH.
The sequence initiates and the screen is flooded with violent imagery. The worst of humanity is on display. Murder, war, burning cities and cataclysm all rushes by the display.
HUMANITY WAS A MESS.
WE WERE ON THE BRINK OF DESTROYING OURSELVES FOR GOOD.
THE GLOBE WAS ON THE VERGE OF CATASTROPHE.
THEN ONE MAN ARRIVED WITH A SOLUTION.
HE PROPOSED HOW WE WOULD TAME OUR WILD WORLD AND FINALLY CONQUER HUMAN NATURE FOR GOOD.
THAT MAN IS THE TECHNOCRAT.
HE BROUGHT A NEW GOLDEN AGE. AN AGE OF PEACE AND PROSPERITY UNLIKE WHAT HISTORY HAD EVER SEEN BEFORE.
THE TECHNOCRAT BROUGHT GLOBAL CONTROL.
WE THANK THE TECHNOCRAT.
ALL HAIL THE TECHNOCRAT.
The display is filled with pleasing images as a sedative is administered to JTW’s IV and he settles into a slumber. We can only assume Superunknown’s session went in a similar fashion. Maybe without the presence of the Shadow though.
*WACK!*
The sound echoes the neighborhood as a golf ball traveling at high-speed makes contact with vinyl siding. A single light illuminates in the dark house, then a string of others, a dog starts barking and Rogues’ Gallery begin giggling like school children, standing on a hill which overlooks this nameless housing development off in the distance, cloaked in the night. Superunknown holds a driver club in his hand.
JTW: MY TURN!
Superunknown: Alright…
Superunknown hands JTW the golf club, he grabs it and sets down his own ball.
JTW: I’m going for a window this time, bruh.
*THWAP!*
JTW doubles over as he takes a golf ball to the gut.
JTW: Wha?
JTW sits up and both he and Superuknown look around, but neither can see where the ball came from. Something pushes Superuknown over from behind and then JTW sees it.
JTW: Wha? WHAT THE FUDGE IS THAT?!
Superunkown begins to help JTW back to his feet and he sees Shadow as well.
Superunknown: I DON’T KNOW… LOOKS LIKE SOME KIND OF GHOST!
JTW: LET’S GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE MAN!
The Shadow laughs as they both drop the club and haul ass to the car, getting in and peeling away and speeding off.
Shadow: Stupid bastards…
As they speed away, JTW reaches under the passenger seat and pulls out a bottle of rum, which he takes a large gulp of before handing it off to Superunknown, who is driving.
JTW: What the hell was that? It was like a shadow man. He was like a shadow… man!
Superuknown: Damned if I know. The Technocrat didn’t put anything like that in my model of Duncan. Did he put anything like that in yours?
JTW: Why the hell would I be asking you then, chico?!
Superunknown: Good point. I dunno. This time travel Poop is spooky.
JTW grins taking the bottle back from Superunknown and taking another swig.
JTW: You know what’s going to be spooky?
Superunknown: What bruh?
JTW: The beating we put on S.E.X., it’s going to haunt them for a long, long time.
Superunknown: Yeah, I don’t know who I am looking forward to smashing first “Too Sweet” Terry Marshall or the Dark Lord.
JTW: You can smash both dudes.
Superuknown’s face lights up, as if a lightbulb went off in his head.
Superunknown: I CAN smash them both.
JTW: Now you’re cookin’ with gasoline muchacho.
Superuknown nods.
Superunknown: Party on, brother.
JTW: Party on!
JTW hands Superunknown the bottle, the hand-off goes awry and Superunknown starts to drop the bottle, he recovers and swerves a bit into the oncoming lane. Luckily, no one is on the road as Superunknown slowly returns to his lane and takes another drag out of the bottle before handing it back to Jeremy.
Something runs across the road.
Superunknown slams on the brakes and the car begins to swerve out of control. The car bounces off of the guardrail and spins around before coming to a stop. Jeremy spills rum all over him.
JTW: WHAT THE FUDGE DUDE?!!
Superuknown: Something was in the road. I saw it.
JTW: WHA?! A FUDGING GHOST, MAN?!
Superuknown: Not a ghostman, but maybe a ghost…
JTW shakes his head.
JTW: Alright, we gotta get back to hotel man. It isn't safe here. We can’t be out here dodging ghosts, dude. Crashing into Poop. We got get to the gotta smack the Poop outta Terry Marshall and Space Lord. The next stop on our reign of terror.
Superunknown: Alright, let’s head back.
JTW sleeps off his re-education and Shadow has his mind captured in his sleep.
Dreaming now, JTW stands back in Electric City, snow covers the ground in a fresh blanket and Shadow stands silent, watching him.
