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Post by DocQuantum on Sept 18, 2023 8:18:51 GMT
The night was shrouded in a thick fog that engulfed the Manhattan streets, casting an eerie aura over the city as the clock struck midnight. High above the urban labyrinth, a massive figure soared over the rooftops, the clanking of its heavy armor echoing through the night. Concealed beneath the formidable metal plating was none other than Hugh Hazzard, the valiant adventurer known to the world as Bozo the Iron Man.
Earlier that evening, news had reached Hazzard of a malevolent mad bomber hell-bent on obliterating every bridge in Manhattan. Duty compelled him to don his iconic suit of armor, aptly named the Iron Man but affectionately known as Bozo the Robot. With the whirring of his rotor-adorned head and the powerful jet-boots propelling him forward, he scoured the city for any trace of the nefarious bomber.
Suddenly, a blaring siren shattered the stillness of the night, announcing the imminent peril that threatened the city. Bozo the Iron Man's sensors locked onto the source, guiding him toward the illuminated outline of the Brooklyn Bridge. As he descended upon the scene, his gaze fell upon the malevolent bomber perched ominously atop the bridge's pinnacle, a sinister grin etched upon his face.
"So, Bozo, you've arrived just in time to witness my masterpiece!" sneered the mad bomber, his voice dripping with wicked glee. "Unless you want to see this magnificent structure crumble, you have twenty-four hours to deliver one million dollars to me."
The Iron Man's metallic fists clenched with determination, his eyes ablaze. "Your reign of terror ends tonight!" he thundered, his voice resonating through the frigid night air.
In a desperate bid, the mad bomber lunged at the Iron Man, hoping to vanquish him with a deadly explosive device. Yet, the hero's reflexes were lightning-quick. He adeptly disarmed his adversary, swiftly ensnaring him in unbreakable cables. Victory appeared to be in Bozo's grasp, and the first of Manhattan's bridges was spared from certain devastation.
But as the Iron Man stood triumphantly over the subdued bomber, a menacing silhouette emerged from the shadows. The resounding thud of heavy footsteps heralded the arrival of an enigmatic menace. From the depths of the fog, an armored figure materialized, adorned in metallic plating adorned with symbols reminiscent of an Axis super-agent.
The mysterious figure in golden armor remained stoic, launching an unexpected attack on the armored vigilante. Hugh Hazzard, taken aback by the sudden assault, fought valiantly against the enigmatic newcomer, a fierce battle erupting between them. Each strike reverberated through the night, metal clashing against metal, igniting sparks that pierced the darkness. Bozo the Iron Man's superior strength and agility proved formidable, yet his adversary matched him blow for blow. Who is this guy? he thought. He's almost as powerful as the Iron Man! Barely holding my own against him, and I have no idea how long I can hold out!
But where the golden-armored figure lacked sheer power, he compensated with relentless ruthlessness. Propelling himself toward the Iron Man with calculated precision, he struck with unforgiving force. The hero's iron-clad armor absorbed the initial blow, but it sent him reeling. Agony surged through his circuits, his vision blurred, and consciousness began to slip away. In an astonishingly brief span, the mighty Iron Man had been vanquished and taken captive.
The Axis super-agent loomed over his fallen adversary. This was none other than the formidable Baron Death of Axis Unlimited, a fearsome foe who remained eerily silent. Raising one arm, he unleashed deadly rays from his metal-gloved hands, ensuring the Iron Man was utterly incapacitated. If any thoughts occupied the Nazi agent's mind, he gave no indication.
As Bozo the Iron Man's systems dimmed, Hugh Hazzard groaned and fell unconscious within his metallic shell. Baron Death, devoid of emotion, released a sharp hook from his armor that secured itself into the bulky metallic exoskeleton. With his captive in tow, Baron Death ascended into the night sky, vanishing into the unknown.
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Post by DocQuantum on Sept 18, 2023 18:12:59 GMT
In the quiet of his thoughts, Tom Wright, known as the enigmatic Black Condor, pondered his complex situation.
As Senator Thomas Wright, he felt the weight of his responsibilities heavily. Until just days ago, the Americans in this world had been in ongoing talks with the Japanese, since there was no attack on Pearl Harbor on December 7th as there had been on Earth-Two. The talks, of course, were broken off as soon as the Japanese sneak attack upon the mainland occurred that I and my fellow Freedom Fighters helped to fight off. Having witnessed the cruelty of both man and nature, I'm committed to playing my dual roles in this time of war, both as the Senator and as the vigilant Black Condor.
As a man raised by mutated birds, he had little use for man's inhumanity to man and nature. Still, as the high-flying mystery-man called the Black Condor he had already fought numerous Japanese foes back on Earth-Two who were waging war for their nation long before war broke out between the two countries. So the handsome Senator would continue to his best in both of his roles to work toward peace while also maintaining security. He was currently having enough trouble keeping such harmony on his own domestic front.
Black Condor's thoughts drifted to Wendy Foster, his fiancée, and the intricate web of his double life. It feels like déjà vu, finding myself in someone else's life once more, he thought. I find myself in the strange position of being engaged to Wendy again, though I'd thought I was free from those ties when I left Earth-Two behind forever. As on that Earth, her father -- the Professor Foster of this world -- is the only one who knows I'm an impostor substituting for the real Senator Thomas Wright who died, but he's never heard of the Black Condor at all. Most puzzling.
Tom had to admit that he did have a certain attraction to Wendy, and he had kissed her a few times since he'd taken up this identity. She appealed to him somewhat, but it would always be a fact that his tie to Wendy only existed because it had first been formed by the now-dead Tom Wright whose identity the Black Condor had stepped into.
In his musings, he considered the delicate balance he had to maintain. I can't simply end things with Wendy, especially since I hold Dr. Foster's trust in high regard, and I wouldn't want to alienate him. He's my only true confidante outside of my circle of heroic allies, which is a small one -- the Ray and Uncle Sam only -- now that Sandy had to return to Earth-Two. He referred to Sandra Knight, alias Phantom Lady, with whom he'd found, during a case together, that they had some common ground that might have led to something more, given enough time. (*) Now that seemed to be another closed door.
[(*) Editor's note: See Smash Team-Up: Phantom Lady and Black Condor: Times Past, 1942: Lethal Legislation.]
Tom had persuaded the pouting heiress to meet him for a late dinner later tonight. Anticipating their tryst, he couldn't help but smile. She'll undoubtedly take her time, just as the Wendy back home always did. Those fashion dilemmas are part of her charm, after all.
Almost all of his time until now since his return to Washington, DC, had been taken up as Senator Tom Wright. For one thing, he'd had to come up with a story to explain his mysterious absence to the press. He could already anticipate that his political rivals would use this against him in the next election, but there was nothing he could do about it. Finally, he was able to break away and spend some time on his own once again.
As the Black Condor took to the skies that evening, the exhilaration of flight washed over him. The freedom of flight -- it's unparalleled, he mused. Since my earliest memories in the Far East, I've yearned to soar alongside my avian brethren -- the Flock.
Thinking back about his maiden flight brought a grin to his face. I can still vividly recall the sensation of plummeting toward those rugged cliffs, only to gracefully ascend into the sky. What an extraordinary feeling!
Relishing his brief moment of solitude, Tom contemplated his plans. Now that my business with Wendy and the press is done, at least for now, I can look into that problem my late double's cousin was having. Justin hadn't wanted to explain the circumstances of his distress before, with Wendy and Professor Foster present, but I'm hoping he'll be a bit more forthright with me now. Who could have thought that on this new world, I'd be dealing with the same familiar problems as I'd had back home so quickly?
Now, Black Condor swooped down for his rendezvous with Justin Wright, determined to untangle this web. In a dark alley, he alighted and swiftly changed back into his civilian attire, planning to meet with Justin at their agreed-upon spot: the Lincoln Memorial.
Amidst the shadows cast by the Lincoln Memorial, the Black Condor found his solitary haven, concealed from prying eyes. The moonlight painted silver streaks across the monument's stoic facade. He knew this was the place, the agreed-upon meeting point with his newfound cousin, Justin Wright.
In the clandestine darkness, Senator Tom Wright shed the guise of the Black Condor, returning to his public persona. It was here that their paths would converge, bringing secrets to light.
As the clock ticked closer to their appointed meeting time, Tom was approached by a masked figure on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial. It was a well-built young man with dark hair who wore a blue business suit and a red tie, along with a white silk scarf covering his eyes. An air of mystery clung to the man, and Tom frowned in concern, his body tensing and ready for anything to happen.
"Don't worry, cousin," he said with a familiar voice. "It's just me -- Justin Wright! Though when I'm wearing this mask, I call myself Just 'N' Right." He smiled sheepishly as he admitted, "It's not much of a disguise, I suppose, but then I haven't been at this mystery-man game for too long.
"You might know some of this story, but I might as well explain it all," he continued. "I was once nothing more than a lumberjack, spending long, hard days doing nothing but exhausting work. I was good at it and never lacked for work, and it made me strong. But life had some unexpected twists in store for me. You see, on my twenty-sixth birthday last year I found out that I wasn't an orphan as I'd believed for so long. It was the family lawyer who finally tracked me down, with news that would change my life forever.
"He told me I'd inherited my parents' substantial fortune, but I've got to admit that the news was bittersweet. Along with the inheritance came a dark truth. I learned that when I was just a young child, little more than a baby, my parents had met a tragic end -- murdered in cold blood by criminals. If I could've given away all that money to bring them back, I would have.
"That vast fortune in my hands didn't bring me happiness -- it only ignited a fire within me, a burning desire to somehow make amends for the crime that had robbed me of my parents' love. I couldn't stand idly by any longer. I vowed that something had to be done to stamp out crime, and that something would be done!
"In that moment, I took my mother's silk scarf I'd found in an old box and transformed it into a see-through blindfold mask. With newfound purpose, and armed with nothing but these well-worked fists of mine and my lumberjack's strength, I became Just 'n' Right, a guardian of justice, fighting the darkness that had torn my family apart. (*)
[(*) Editor's note: See Justin Wright, The Doll Man Quarterly #1 (September, 1941).]
"It was shortly after that when I tracked you down as my only living relative, Tom, besides a few distant cousins here and there," added Justin. "I'm sorry to impose on you like this, since we still don't know each other that well, but you're the only one I can trust -- and maybe the only one with enough pull to do something about it, too!"
Tom nodded in understanding, even though some aspects of his story were puzzling. "What's been happening, Justin? Earlier, you mentioned something about being pursued by 'Nazi super-agents'. Tell me more."
The urgency in Justin's eyes bespoke the gravity of the situation. "They're hunting mystery-men, these super-Nazis. I've been their target, and I fear others are, too," he said hastily, his voice laced with concern.
Tom's furrowed brow mirrored his growing unease as he listened to Justin's hurried explanation. Justin's face bore the weight of a perilous truth. "'Super-Nazis'?" he repeated in a low, urgent tone. "This is more serious than I imagined."
Amidst the darkness of the night, the tranquility at the Lincoln Memorial was suddenly shattered by a gunshot that echoed through the air. Justin staggered to his knees and keeled over, having been shot in the back.
"Too slow, Amerikaner!" called a laughing voice in the distance. The Black Condor recognized the all-too-familiar accent as German in origin.
"Justin?!" cried Tom, catching his erstwhile cousin to soften his landing.
Though wounded, Justin still clung to life. It was a harrowing moment, but one that spurred Tom's transformation into the Black Condor. Swiftly, he donned his heroic identity, ready to confront whoever was responsible for the attack.
With determination in his voice, Black Condor cried, "No one threatens innocent lives on my watch." He soared into the sky, silhouetted against the inky abyss, as he chased down the malevolent figure responsible for this violence.
The would-be assassin, his gun still smoking from the act, sneered at his pursuer, his German-accented voice dripping with malevolence as he said with a sinister grin, "I am the Ferret, and we will crush every last mystery-man for the glory of the Third Reich!"
But the rat-faced German super-agent, accompanied by his ever-present pet ferret Killer, was outmatched by his pursuer.
The Ferret frowned as he found himself overpowered by the stronger man. "I see I cannot hope to beat you with sheer strength, Amerikaner," he admitted.
Connecting with a right hook, Black Condor replied, "It's not easy to beat one who fights for justice!"
The ensuing fight was short but fierce. In the end, it was the Black Condor who emerged victorious, binding the Ferret and leaving him there to be picked up as soon as he could get his cousin the medical help he needed.
"You're going nowhere, Ferret," said the Black Condor over his still-grinning prisoner. "When I get back, you'll tell me everything I want to know."
Returning to Justin's side, the Black Condor found him injured and in need of urgent medical attention. During their flight to the hospital, the truth about Tom's dual identity began to dawn on Justin, leaving him astounded.
"T-Tom... you're not just a politician, after all... you're one of us, aren't you?" Justin said with a hint of admiration, his voice weakened. "You're... a m-mystery-man, too!"
With a solemn nod, Black Condor replied, "Yes, Justin. And it seems the world needs us now more than ever."
As Justin's consciousness waned, the Black Condor sought to protect his secret identity, removing Justin's mask, leaving only his distinctive business attire intact.
Delivering Justin to the hospital, the Black Condor swiftly returned to the Lincoln Memorial, only to discover that the Ferret had already vanished.
"I should've known," said the Black Condor after a quick search that turned up nothing. "That Nazi agent must've had allies nearby who freed him and took him away while I took Justin to the hospital. I'd been hoping to get some answers from this 'Ferret' character, but that can't happen now."
Two burning questions still lingered in his mind. "Why did that Nazi target Justin, and how can there be other mystery-men here on Earth-X when Uncle Sam assured us that this world had none? I need answers if I'm ever going to stop this threat. I only hope Uncle Sam and the Ray haven't been made targets as well."
All remembrances of his planned dinner date with Wendy forgotten in the heat of the moment, the Black Condor flew off in determination to get his answers.
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Post by DocQuantum on Sept 18, 2023 19:27:17 GMT
Wendy Foster paced back and forth in her lavish room, worry etched across her beautiful face. Her initial anger at Tom Wright's sudden disappearance had transformed into a gnawing concern that clawed at her heart.
"He said he just had to meet his cousin first before our date, but he's disappeared again -- probably run off with some tramp!" she had angrily muttered to herself an hour earlier, consumed by jealousy and frustration. "For months now he hasn't felt as committed to me as I've been to him!" She had broken down and wept despairingly as she realized she'd been stood up.
But now, calmer and more rational, she decided it was time to take action. She reached for the telephone and dialed a number for a pharmacy in a small city several states away, her voice trembling with anxiety.
"Is this Foster Pharmacy? May I speak to Stormy Foster, please?" she inquired, her voice quivering as a young man with a Chinese accent answered the call.
Soon, the meek and mild-mannered pharmacist Stormy Foster took the call, thanking his youthful Chinese aide. "Stormy here. How may I help you?" he asked, concern lacing his words. He listened intently.
"Stormy, it's me, Cousin Wendy. I need a shoulder to cry on. Tom has vanished again!" Wendy explained, her voice choked with tears. "Last time he vanished I'd thought something horrible had happened to him, but this time there's no excuse!"
Always reliable and ever the voice of reason, Stormy signaled to his assistant, Ah Chan, to close their quiet little drugstore.
"Wendy! Good to hear from you. Now, calm down. Your faithful Cousin Stormy shall make things right!" he assured her, his soothing tone bringing a small smile to Wendy's lips.
"You always cheer me up, Stormy! The idea of you handling danger. Why, I used to wrestle you to the ground when we were kids," Wendy reminisced.
Stormy chuckled softly. "Yeah, you were tough back then, but I've been working out. Say, why don't you sit tight. I'll hop on a plane to DC, and together, we'll sort this thing out!"
Wendy's face brightened, and she replied, "Sounds lovely. Please do come! Kisses, kisses! Bye bye!"
***
Stormy Foster gently placed the receiver down and turned to Ah Chan. "Get out the special vitamins. I need to power up!" he exclaimed.
"No problem, Boss!" Ah Chan said, and handed him a pill, a secret concoction of Stormy's own invention. Stormy quickly swallowed it.
In a matter of seconds, the unassuming pharmacist transformed into a tall, strong, dynamic figure with striking features and a neatly trimmed mustache.
"You know, if I could just market the hair-growing potential of this super vitamin, we'd be rich men!" he quipped, adjusting his star-emblazoned shirt and white shorts. "This looks like a job for the Great Defender!"
With newfound strength and resolve, the Great Defender hurried out, ready to help his cousin Wendy and uncover the mystery behind Tom Wright's disappearance.
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Post by DocQuantum on Sept 18, 2023 20:21:10 GMT
The Ray soared high above the city, a streak of light against the evening sky. Happy Terrill, the newspaper reporter turned mystery-man from Earth-Two, had begun to adjust to his new life on Earth-X, but nagging questions still occupied his thoughts.
As he soared through the twilight, he couldn't help but wonder about the missing Happy Terrill from this Earth, the one whose job he had taken at the Daily Globe. Their disappearances had coincided, raising suspicions of a connection.
Turning his attention to the enigma of Bud, his young foster child who resided on this Earth, he mused over the uncanny resemblance of their lives in some aspects, yet stark differences in others. How had fate woven their paths so intricately together?
The final perplexity revolved around the existence of mystery-men in a world where Uncle Sam had believed there were none. The presence of a few, albeit rare, mystery-men contradicted that notion.
Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he muttered to himself, "Parallel universes and multiverses -- it's enough to give anyone a headache."
Determined to escape his labyrinth of ponderings, he continued his patrol, seeking the simplicity of thwarting criminals. Spotting a getaway car filled with armed crooks who had just robbed a bank, he grinned, thinking, Aha, just what I was looking for.
Intent on melting the car's tires with his light powers, he descended. But a surprise awaited him. Another figure, even faster than he, suddenly appeared on the scene, taking down the crooks effortlessly and humorously.
The Ray, landing instead on a nearby rooftop, watched in amazement as this new speedster moved faster than humanly possible, forcing the criminals to stop abruptly as he dismantled the car piece by piece, leaving only the frame to skid along the pavement, creating sparks as it did so. The speedster reveled in the spectacle, addressing the bewildered hoods with wit.
"Boys! Boys! Boys! You can't just stick up and run!" he chided, seemingly amused. "Where's your sense of decorum? I took you to be gentlemen!"
"Plug 'im!" one of the crooks yelled, firing their guns at the costumed hero in white and blue.
"Ah! Plug, electrical power. You didn't tell me you punks were so witty! You could put Noel Coward to shame!" the speedster quipped, dodging bullets at super-speed. "Guess I better just shut your mouths fast before some talent scout whisks you to Hollywood!"
In a blur of motion, he incapacitated the thugs, striking with precision and humor.
Turning to the cheering crowd, he joked, "I can't accept your thanks -- but I do take cash!"
Watching high above the bustling streets, the Ray had to smile at that. It was something he might have said. Then the Ray's keen eyes caught sight of a woman in a seductive outfit. Her striking raven-black hair, pale, chalk-white skin, and slinky red dress over her shapely figure made her impossible to ignore. He couldn't help but wonder what her presence meant in this turbulent scene.
"Oh, Quicksilver! You must come closer. I need your help!" she cooed, her voice dripping with allure.
Quicksilver, the speedster known for his lightning-fast reflexes, approached the enigmatic woman. He was always eager to assist those in need. "I live to serve!" he replied with a hint of a smile.
"I was wounded by a gunshot," she explained, her voice trembling with feigned vulnerability. "You must help me!"
Quicksilver's brow furrowed with concern. "I was afraid those goons might hit someone while aiming at me. But I thought I had caught all the slugs!"
The woman's demeanor changed as she cooed seductively, "I feel faint." With a graceful fall, she collapsed into his arms, her touch caressing his chest.
Suddenly, Quicksilver felt a strange lethargy wash over him, his super-speed dissipating like a wisp of smoke. "What the--?!" he muttered, taken aback by the abrupt loss of his powers.
She gazed up at him and laughed, revealing a distinct German accent. "I -- how do you say it? -- can absorb your speed! You feed Dark Angel well!"
Panicking, Quicksilver tried to push her aside, but instead ended up stumbling over her leg, expertly maneuvered to trip him up.
"Too bad you must soon die. I enjoyed our brief contact very much!" Dark Angel purred with chilling delight.
Helpless and disoriented, Quicksilver was struck again and passed out at her feet.
"Foolish Amerikaner!" she taunted with a wicked laugh.
The Ray, having watched the sinister turn of events from a distance, swooped in, determined to catch the dangerous Dark Angel. However, unknown to him, she was already aware of his presence.
"Did you think you could escape my notice, foolish little lightbulb?" cried the Dark Angel, turning toward him. Before he could react, she partially drained his power as well, causing him to tumble to the ground as she laughed. "Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!"
The Ray, his powers partially drained by the enigmatic Dark Angel, staggered into a dimly lit alley a couple of blocks away from the scene of the confrontation. He leaned against a brick wall, gasping for breath and clutching his chest.
Holy cats! he thought. I never saw that coming. She's no ordinary foe!
Minutes later, having regained some strength, the Ray returned to the scene, only to find Dark Angel had vanished, leaving behind the presumed captive Quicksilver. As he regained his composure and strength, he knew he couldn't let Dark Angel get away with that mystery-man speedster as her captive. Determined to save his fellow hero, the Ray knew he couldn't do it alone. He realized he needed the assistance of his fellow Freedom Fighters.
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Post by lawrenceliberty on Sept 18, 2023 21:00:00 GMT
This is great. I love the connecting of these characters like Wendy to Stormy and Condor's assumed identity to Justin. I am a big Black Condor fan so I enjoy seeing him in the spotlight. Also, appreciate the ref. to my BC/PL team up!
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Post by DocQuantum on Sept 18, 2023 21:09:39 GMT
This is great. I love the connecting of these characters like Wendy to Stormy and Condor's assumed identity to Justin. I am a big Black Condor fan so I enjoy seeing him in the spotlight. Also, appreciate the ref. to my BC/PL team up! Thanks, Libby! Although I did connect Justin Wright to Tom Wright, you were the one who made the connection between Wendy Foster and Stormy Foster in the original story. I love seeing all these connections and references to stories, too, so I try to include them as much as possible.
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Post by DocQuantum on Sept 18, 2023 21:12:46 GMT
The dimly lit study of Richard Stanton, known in the crime-fighting world as Madam Fatal, was filled with relics of his acting career. The room served as his sanctuary, a place where the glittering world of the stage gave way to his secret life as a cross-dressing detective.
Stanton had made a solemn vow years ago, a promise that drove him to leave the limelight behind and channel his acting skills toward one purpose: battling crime. That pledge had been forged in the depths of despair when his own daughter was kidnapped, a mystery that still haunted him to this day. It was that agonizing experience that had compelled him to become Madam Fatal, concealing his true identity behind the guise of an elderly woman. (*) His harmless appearance allowed him to gain trust and access places where the famous actor couldn't venture without drawing attention. Someday, he was determined to uncover a clue that would lead him to his daughter and reunite their small fractured family.
[(*) Editor's note: See Madam Fatal, Crack Comics #1 (May, 1940).]
Though he occasionally made headlines, the unconventional crime-fighter remained far less renowned than he had been during his acting career, and the media occasionally made errors in their reports.
"'Madame Fatale Stops Cyonide Cyndi'!" Stanton announced, reading the headline aloud. "Well, I suppose I'm not as famous as I imagined. This newspaper reporter calls me 'Madame Fatale' instead of Madam Fatal. This Jim Slade character must be a rookie."
Stanton put the newspaper down and turned his attention to his guest. He shook his head in dismay, having hoped that his silence would deter his friend, but it seemed a more assertive response was required.
Robert Mason, Stanton's friend and the original Jester, paced anxiously in a worn-out trench coat that hinted at his past as a crime-fighter. He had as of late been contemplating resurrecting the Jester persona, much to Stanton's concern.
"Robert, you must be out of your mind to want to jump back in to crime-fighting!" Stanton exclaimed, adjusting the wrinkles of his Madam Fatal disguise to appear as an elderly woman. "Do you realize how perilous it is out there, especially for mystery-men like us these days?"
Mason's eyes flashed with determination. "But, Richard, there are criminals running rampant, terrorizing innocent people. I can't just stand idly by while they wreak havoc. This city needs the Jester."
Stanton heaved a weary sigh, sinking back into his chair. "My dear friend, I understand your determination and your desire to protect others. But the world has changed since our prime. The criminals we face now are not like those of the past. They are ruthless, cunning, and exceedingly brutal. Frankly, I fear for your safety."
Just as Stanton finished speaking, the study door creaked open, and a strange man slipped inside. He stood tall and imposing, with an aura of malevolence emanating from him. "Greetings. I have been tracking you ever since my agents sprayed a chemical upon you during your last case two nights ago," he hissed, his voice dripping with an accent unmistakably German. "It has faded by now, but this comes to late to save you. I am the Flaming Hand, and you must be Madam Fatal."
Stanton's eyes widened as he beheld the sinister figure before him. So this was the fearsome Nazi super-agent known for his ruthless methods and deadly fire-based powers. From what he'd read, he had much to fear.
Before Stanton could react, the Flaming Hand lunged forward, unleashing a torrent of flames from one arm. Instinctively, Mason jumped in to defend his friend, but he was woefully unprepared. As the two collided, Mason was effortlessly swatted away, crashing into a bookshelf at the far end of the study and slumping to the floor.
Regaining his composure, Stanton sprang into action, his years of crime-fighting experience kicking in, despite his fear. He brought the agile man down and pommeled him twice before receiving a jab to the eyes.
"You fight well for an American!" said the Flaming Hand as he barely ducked a desperate right cross from Madam Fatal.
Well, I was defending myself against brutes on the street long before I started dressing up like an old lady! he thought as he hurled himself at the Flaming Hand.
However, the Flaming Hand was too powerful and caught him off guard. With a vicious blow, Stanton was knocked unconscious, defenseless in the hands of his assailant.
"You were good, Madam Fatal, but I was better!" hissed the Flaming Hand as he rose to his feet, reached down to lift the unconscious man, then opened the French doors with one hand.
Groaning, Mason slowly regained consciousness, his head throbbing from the impact. He gazed at his fallen friend and clenched his trembling fists. Determined not to let the Flaming Hand escape with Madam Fatal, he mustered every ounce of willpower and scrambled back onto his feet, but by this time it was too late.
Ignoring the pain coursing through his body, Mason raced toward the French doors and saw the Flaming Hand escaping in a flying craft, Stanton's limp form with him. He quickly assessed the situation, spotting a nearby rooftop that offered a vantage point. Mason sprinted toward it, agilely leaping from one building to another, determined to follow the kidnapper.
As Mason reached the final rooftop before the yawning chasm of the street, his heart sank. The Flaming Hand had vanished into the darkened sky, leaving no trace of his whereabouts. Frustration gnawed at Mason, but he resolved not to give up. He knew one thing for sure -- he would find Madam Fatal, and he would bring justice to those responsible.
Standing over the street, Robert Mason looked both directions with a grim determination before looking down and spotting a poster below that displayed an advertisement for the Nichols Circus. "Hmm, I believe I know just the fellow to help me, too!" he said.
Taking off his trench coat, Mason pulled a strange-looking fool's hat over his head, which had a built-in mask beneath it and was adorned with little bells. His outfit was ridiculously colorful, but it was appropriate for his chosen identity as a crime-fighter. For Robert Mason had been one of the earliest costumed crime-fighters, having become the Jester in 1937 and operating mostly in obscurity up until about a year ago, when he finally decided to give it up after a crook wearing his costume tried to frame him for stealing a top secret chemical formula from his own father, Professor Roy Mason. (*)
[(*) Editor's note: See "Madam Fatal Meets the Jester, the Man Who Laughs at Death," Crack Comics #10 (February, 1941).]
Now dressed as the Jester, he made his way down to the street and ran with purpose toward a certain destination. His costume was odd-looking, but within he carried the heart of a loyal friend.
Reaching a field where a circus troupe was getting ready to move on to their next engagement, the Jester seemed to blend right in as he shoved past clowns and animal trainers until a rough man who was packing trunks stopped him.
"Hold it, clown! This ain't no Grand Central Station!" scowled the roustabout. "What bizness do ya have here?"
"I need help!" he said, panting. "I've heard all about your strongman, and I need him!"
"Well, Joe Hercules is busy in his tent like the rest of us, so just buzz off!" said the worker.
A moment later, a tall, handsome man with long red hair stepped out of the tent, wearing a robe. "Hold on, pal. If someone needs help, then I always have time to listen," said the man named Hercules, a gentle giant if there ever was one. "Here, come inside and tell me what I can do for you."
As the Jester entered the tent, he looked at the strongman in a better light. "Say, the posters show you as a blond with short hair!" he said. "Are you really Hercules?"
The muscular young man smiled and lifted a heavy chest with one open hand. "Does this help convince you that you can't always judge a man by the artistic license on a poster?" he said.
The Jester smiled and said, "Listen, I'm pals with Madam Fatal. She's... er, he's in danger. Can you help me? I've read that you can do amazing things!"
Joe Hercules nodded. "I'd certainly like to help. But where would we start? Exactly what happened to your friend?"
As the Jester explained about the abduction he witnessed, Hercules listened intently until he was finished speaking. Then he looked sheepish as he began to confess a problem that he'd had to deal with.
"There's... something you should know about me," Joe Hercules began. "I grew up in the North Woods as an only child. I never knew my father, who died before I was born, and all I had growing up was my mother. I was born with this great strength of mine, but I never did find out just what made me so strong. I used it to my advantage, though, earning enough money as a sideshow strongman to pay off my mom's mortgage back in Maryville, with enough left over to start my education. I had it in my head that I could be a lawyer or a doctor -- anything to help people. But I didn't return home fast enough with the money.
"When I got back home, I found my mother's body. She had died of a heart attack when a gang of criminals use a loophole to illegally repossess her house. But what they did to my mother was murder, if you ask me. When that happened, I... well, I went mad, and did a lot of damage before bringing in the thugs who were to blame for her death. (*) After I recovered, I kept on fighting crime, at least until a couple of months ago. It was then that I had a case where I was unable to save an old lady's life, and all the pain and loss of my own mother's death came back to me in a flood. I... I had another bout of madness and came close to hurting a bunch of people before I was shocked back to normal. Ever since then I've been too fearful of what might happen if I lose control over my tremendous strength a third time. So this time I decided to quit crime-fighting, and from that moment on, I've travelled the nation with this circus group. Everywhere I go, I try to do good, and as long as I don't let myself get too wrapped up in tragedy, I should be all right. I'll help you find and rescue Madam Fatal, but I'd suggest we start by finding a few more allies."
[(*) Editor's note: See Hercules, Hit Comics #1 (July, 1940).]
The Jester nodded. "That's exactly what I had in mind, too, though I admit I acted a bit rashly by running off to the circus for your help! Would you believe I'm actually quite an accomplished detective behind this getup?"
Joe smiled in understanding. "You were concerned about a friend. That's nothing to be ashamed of. Let's start by calling a local newspaper, such as the Daily Globe. Those reporters might have a lead on any other mystery-men in the area who may have been attacked or kidnapped."
The Jester grinned, and the two began making plans as the morning dawned.
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Post by lawrenceliberty on Sept 18, 2023 21:17:57 GMT
Good to see poor often forgotten Joe Hercules too!
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Post by DocQuantum on Sept 19, 2023 4:38:13 GMT
The morning sun painted the skyline of Everytown, USA, in shades of gold, but within Uncle Sam's core, a storm raged -- an inexplicable unease that clawed at his him. He had a gut feeling, knowing in his very soul that something was amiss with his comrades, the Ray and Black Condor. It was an urgency like no other.
Sam had also been grappling with his inner turmoil over the nature of reality itself. If he was truly from another Earth, why did this one feel more like home than that one ever did? Why did he have a closer bond with Buddy than anyone he could recall on Earth-Two? These questions swirled like a relentless storm in his mind, propelling him toward answers beyond his scheduled rendezvous with his fellow Freedom Fighters.
As Sam's unease swirled within him, Buddy, his trusty nephew and sidekick, couldn't help but notice the tension in his uncle's voice and demeanor. "Won't you stay with the neighborly Mrs. Jenkins, again, sport?" Uncle Sam urged, his concern evident. "Keep her safe, like last time?"
Buddy's response had a touch of reluctance. "You can count on me... I guess..." he mumbled, but his thoughts were already racing ahead.
"I reckon I already knew that!" said Uncle Sam, a grin forming on his rugged face as he turned to leave.
"Of course..." continued Buddy, never one to let an opportunity pass, "...you might've forgotten, but on all those adventures we had together, I saved your bacon more than once! In fact, I helped you pick up valuable information on bad guys in ways that you never would have been able to. Why, you might even think of me as your good luck charm. Besides, didn't you just get back after a really long time away? So why wouldn't you bring me with you this time like you always used to? There's no reason to change things now, when we make such a great team!"
Uncle Sam, ever the understanding mentor, patted Buddy's head affectionately. "All right, all right. Don't fret none. I'll bring you along, after all!"
Buddy Smith's face lit up like a Christmas tree, and he and Uncle Sam set off on their next adventure, their banter a reminder of the camaraderie that had defined their partnership.
With their resolve set, the patriotic pair raced toward New York, a city of towering skyscrapers and secrets tucked away like forgotten toys in an attic. Uncle Sam had a meeting scheduled there with his allies, the Ray and Black Condor, for a week after their last encounter. He wasn't planning on making them wait, though. Punctuality was a virtue he took seriously.
However, as Uncle Sam sprinted like a gazelle and carried Buddy on his shoulders, traversing the countryside at a speed that would have left a speeding bullet eating dust, Sam felt an inexplicable force tugging them toward another city, Mapleville. It was a small, picturesque town, much like Everytown, nestled among maple trees. Buddy knew this was par for the course with Uncle Sam, so he didn't question it, but continued going along for the ride.
As they drew closer, the commotion of a street brawl reached their ears, and they marveled at what they found. A young boy, no older than Buddy himself, decked out in a costume, was taking on a gang of crooks in a construction site with a nonchalant air of invincibility.
Uncle Sam couldn't help but exclaim, "Well, I'll be--!"
Buddy chimed in, his eyes wide with amazement, "That kid is just a kid, but... he must be stronger than a thousand men, at least!"
"Probably not a thousand," Sam said with a chuckle, "but he's sure giving them crooks a walloping!"
"And don't you come back!" shouted the young powerhouse, who had black hair with an errand spit curl and wore a blue costume with a yellow star insignia on it, along with a red collar and red leggings. He dusted his hands off after the effort, then concluded his one-boy show by handing back bags of stolen jewels to a grateful elderly couple who ran the looted jewelry store. "Here you go, sir and ma'am! They should all be in there."
The elderly jeweler, his accent hinting at a distant homeland, thanked the boy, saying, "Ve thank you, young man. Ve haff fled from de old country to get avay from such bullies, but I suppose dey are everyvhere dese days."
The boy in the costume grinned in response. "Well, if you ever need help again, just call on me -- Wonder Boy!"
Uncle Sam and Buddy exchanged incredulous glances, their curiosity piqued by the enigmatic Wonder Boy. Without a second thought, they decided to meet the young hero and learn more about him. Little did they know, their journey was about to take a surprising turn.
As they approached Wonder Boy, Uncle Sam couldn't contain his barrage of questions. "Son, I've been around a long time, and I've never heard of you before. Are there more like you on this Earth? Why have I never realized there were mystery-men here?"
Wonder Boy, with the innocence of youth, began to explain his story. "Well, you see, Mr. Sam, I'm not from this planet, actually. I'm really just a visitor to Earth myself. I came here in a meteor after my own world, Viro, was destroyed when a star collided with it. (*) I guess that makes me the last of my kind. Anyway, there used to be more of us mystery-men around here on Earth. But over the past year or so, things changed. The Nazi super-agents started attacking us, and then a powerful magician named Merlin warned each of us to hide and only operate in secret. Some of us followed his advice. Some just quit. But I couldn't stay hidden. I've never been afraid of bullies, and besides, I'm strong enough to handle myself, as you can see."
[(*) Editor's note: See Wonder Boy, National Comics #1 (July, 1940).]
"Buddy 'n' I are with you there, lad," Uncle Sam chimed in, his admiration evident. Buddy nodded enthusiastically, eager to hear more about this newfound hero.
But before the two could pepper Wonder Boy with any further questions, their conversation was abruptly interrupted as the sky crackled with an otherworldly display of power. Three formidable adversaries descended upon them with a mission to apprehend Wonder Boy, and they were armed with enough extraordinary abilities to do the job.
Unfazed by the sight of the powerful-looking newcomers, Wonder Boy decided to get back into the fray. "More bad guys, huh? This planet sure has a lot of 'em. Well, come on, time to take your licks!"
"I think not, junger Herr," said the Nordic-garbed woman wearing chainmail and a feathered helmet, dismounting from her steed, Stormwind. "I am Gundra the Valkyrie, and I have been sent here to deliver you to Der Fuhrer himself."
"Y'know, I actually wouldn't mind meeting that tinpot dictator, after all," said Wonder Boy, preparing to strike. "But until then, I'll have to settle for you guys!"
At that, Wonder Boy laid a haymaker that struck the man in a black costume emblazoned with a red swastika and belt with the letters SS upon it, a full-face black mask, white boots and one white glove, and a flexible robotic right arm. The Nazi super-agent was immediately sent flying across the construction site. The Boy from the Stars then turned toward the domino mask-wearing strongwoman in black tights, but before he could take another step, Gundra thrust her spear into the air.
Chaos erupted as the Valkyrie then summoned lightning from the heavens, directing it from her spear into the powerful Wonder Boy, rendering him unconscious almost immediately. Uncle Sam's heart pounded in his chest as he watched the young hero being swiftly snatched away by Gundra, who then fled to the skies upon her majestic steed, Stormwind. Wonder Boy's still form dangled over the saddle, a chilling sight that spurred Uncle Sam into action.
With unwavering resolve, Uncle Sam leaped into the fray, his fists clenched and his jaw set like the Liberty Bell. He was determined to save Wonder Boy and bring those Nazi super-agents to justice. However, his noble efforts were thwarted when the strongwoman, another formidable female adversary, attacked him from behind with unmatched strength, aiming to choke him into submission.
"I haff broken stronger men than you, Herr Onkel Samuel," said the strongwoman. "You've never fought anyone like me before -- the Masked Marvel!"
Uncle Sam's seasoned combat skills came to the fore as he wrestled with the powerful adversary, throwing her off of him before getting ready to wrestle again. "Ol' Abe Lincoln and I used ta tussle a bit back in Illinois, so I believe I kin handle the likes o' you!" Uncle Sam declared, his indomitable spirit burning bright. "Now, I ain't never hit a lady before," he said, "but if you're a lady, then I'm Little Miss Muffet!"
With a swift punch, he freed himself from the Masked Marvel's onslaught temporarily, while Buddy cheered, "Way to go, Uncle Sam!"
As the two titans clashed, Buddy had watched in awe, torn between fear for his mentor and the desire to help. He knew that he couldn't stand idly by while Uncle Sam fought to save Wonder Boy, but he wasn't sure what he could do. Then Buddy's eyes blazed with determination as he impulsively made his decision.
The resourceful boy, surveying the construction site, saw exactly what he was looking for. Grabbing a large pipe wrench, Buddy took it over to a fire hydrant on the sidewalk and began trying to remove the cap. "C'mon, c'mon!" he said, forcing his muscles as far as they could go, but still it wouldn't budge.
Uncle Sam, locked in a fierce struggle with the Masked Marvel, finally realized what Buddy was up to and maneuvered his foe into the proper spot. The boy, seeing that Uncle Sam had figured out his plan, became more determined. Finally, the cap began to move.
"Yeah, that's it!" cried Buddy. But his triumph was short-lived, for the cap refused to budge any longer. "Blast it all!" he cried, hoping that his Uncle Sam didn't hear him using such harsh language. Completely frustrated, Buddy grabbed the pipe wrench and slammed against the fire hydrant cap.
That did the trick, for two-hundred and fifty pounds per square inch of pressurized water came suddenly gushing out of the fire hydrant -- its full force hitting the Masked Marvel, who went flying off to strike a statue in the Town Square. She groaned once, then passed out from the ordeal.
"WAHOO!" Buddy cried, thrusting his fist into the air.
With the immediate threat neutralized, Uncle Sam turned his attention to Buddy, who was still leaping for joy. "Good work, sport!" Uncle Sam exclaimed, his voice filled with pride. "Now, let's rescue Wonder Boy and show these Nazi super-agents that they can't terrorize this world any longer!"
Turning his attention to Gundra, Uncle Sam made a mighty leap high up into the sky and just barely managed to grab onto one of the horse's wings, which caused the mighty steed to falter and release its hold on Wonder Boy.
As the invulnerable Boy from the Stars began to plummet down to land in the top branches of a mighty maple tree, Gundra fought to regain control of Stormwind, cursing under her breath for the man's impudence. In a daring attempt, she struck Uncle Sam with all her might, determined to protect her precious steed, but to no avail.
"I'll hand it to ya," Uncle Sam muttered, his breath strained. "You sure pack a real wallop!"
But Uncle Sam's attention had strayed away from the ground, which proved to be a mistake. For while Buddy was staring up into the sky, momentarily distracted by the epic battle, no one realized that the man in black with the robot arm had already recovered and was even now on the move, sneaking up from behind him. In a swift movement, the Axis agent grabbed Buddy with one arm around his neck, and the boy gasped as he struggled in vain to free himself.
"You will give up your pursuit, Amerikaner!" shouted the man in black, holding Buddy in a headlock with his robotic grip of steel. "Unless you wish to see the boy come to an untimely end at the hands of the Iron Claw."
"Buddy?! No!" cried Uncle Sam, his heart sinking as he saw the threat to his nephew below. Though he had fought valiantly, he realized that he would ultimately have to yield.
Reluctantly, Uncle Sam leaped back down to the ground, his heart heavy with the burden of having to leave Wonder Boy in the clutches of these Nazis. Already Gundra had swept down and swiftly picked up the unconscious Wonder Boy, then fled before Uncle Sam could have a rematch.
As Uncle Sam began to contemplate his next move, trying to figure out a way to rescue Buddy while keeping him from being harmed, a sudden, brutal strike from the Masked Marvel sent him sprawling to the ground, nearly unconscious.
With both Wonder Boy and Buddy held captive in the hands of the enemy, Uncle Sam's heart sank at his failure to save these innocents. "B-Buddy..." he groaned as he tried in vain to struggle back to his feet, swooning as he did so. "My boy... no..."
Uncle Sam faced a dire challenge. Though his body felt bruised and nearly broken, his unwavering determination burned brighter than ever as he plotted his next move. He was determined to free his friends and bring justice to those who threatened their world. And for that he needed the Freedom Fighters.
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Post by DocQuantum on Sept 19, 2023 5:31:38 GMT
Larry Noble had been kept waiting long enough. He'd already been turned away the day before and forced to make an appointment for this morning, but he hoped this rigamarole was worth it. He wanted answers.
In that old house on Bleecker Street, where countless old relics and odd devices lined the walls, Larry was greeted by the darkly handsome Zero, Ghost Detective. Larry soon cottoned on to the fact that Zero wasn't so much a magician as he was a lab jockey. Zero, who never did tell him his first name, had a small mustache and wore a white coat, giving him the appearance of a scientist or doctor.
"Mr. Noble, first let me assure you that my experiences have been extensive, to say the least," began the Ghost Detective. "My inventions allow me to communicate with the spirits that roam this earth, and I've met many in my career. I can soon determine if this apparition that haunts you is your late twin."
Larry stood somewhat taller than the other man, and if he hadn't already seen what he'd seen, he would never have been caught dead meeting with a lunatic who believed in this stuff. It was a sign of his sheer desperation that he had sought him out for help.
With a sigh, he said, "I just need to know what Jerry wants me to do!"
Zero gazed at the man before him. Larry was tall, strong, and had the steady nerves required to be a stunt artist as he was. He was hardly the nervous, sickly, or obsessive type that so often darkened Zero's door. Still, losing a close cousin had to be difficult, if not impossible to cope with.
Pointing to a weird machine of his, Zero explained, "I call this device the Super Q-Ray. It allows me to detect ghosts. One might think of it as an ectoplasmic detector." With that brief explanation out of the way, Zero began to work the controls with an intense concentration on his face. "We'll soon see what your cousin has to say for himself."
Larry furrowed his brow as he struggled against his inner doubts. Then the room seemed to fill with an electric charge that caused his hair to slightly stand on end.
Zero, Ghost Detective cleared his throat. "Well, the Q-Ray is certainly picking up something, but it's not like any spirit I've seen before." He frowned in thought. "Hmmm... it's almost as if--"
"I see him!" screamed Larry, taken aback. "I can see Jerry now! He's right in front of me, looking right at me!"
Zero nodded, still frowning. "He's here, all right, though his readings are still somewhat strange. Here, let me adjust my ray, and with any luck we may establish true contact."
Larry tensed up as he waited, seeing Jerry Noble's lips move but hearing nothing. Several long moments passed, and then the Q-Ray device sounded with a tinny, distant voice coming through the ether.
"Larry... Larry... Larry... I was taken before my time... never meant to go at this young an age... have many more years of life to come... before I pass on to glory... Now I am here... in this nothingness... unable to help the ones I love... Larry... you must promise me... take care of Joan... Men... evil men... Axis agents... after her... and others like her... Do not let them take her... Become the new Yankee Eagle... seek out other mystery-men... I will be with you... even if you will no longer see me... With me... you will gain power... that you may use to fight for justice... and to protect Joan... Promise me... Larry... Larry... Larry... promise..."
Larry Noble had been dumbstruck by the apparition, his voice momentarily gone. But as he cleared his throat and came out of the trance, he said, "I-I promise, Jerry. I promise." He frowned in confusion. "But tell me -- who's Joan? Are you talking about Joanne? Your girlfriend, Joanne Hale?"
The apparition glowed for only a moment more, and then it was gone. Larry would get no answers to his question on this day, but he was determined to find out what his cousin's last words meant.
"I actually saw and heard Jerry!" he remarked, almost incredulous. "You did it, Zero! It was like Jerry was with me again. I don't know what he meant when he said I would gain power, though. I don't feel any different than I normally do. And... and I will become the new Yankee Eagle, but -- sorry, Jer, but there's no way I'm putting on that silly costume of yours. The only outfit this Yankee Eagle is gonna wear is my trusty blue jumpsuit."
The experience had animated Larry like nothing else. "I'm gonna do it, I promise you. I'll track down other mystery-men and get those Axis agents if it's the last thing I do!"
Zero was amazed. "I've never seen quite a response to the Super Q-Ray before," he said. "Your cousin was able to communicate with you in a different way than I'd ever seen a ghost speak. Somehow, he was able to tap into the energies of the Q-Ray itself and give you a unique power, enhancing a quality that was already within you."
"What do ya mean?" asked Larry. "I agreed to become the Yankee Eagle, though I can't say I feel much different."
"You are changed, that much is certain," said Zero. "But as for how that change will manifest itself in you, it is too early to say. I trust that you will discover what it is very soon, for you will need it in the harrowing days to come."
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Post by lawrenceliberty on Sept 19, 2023 15:05:24 GMT
Nice job. An especially exciting battle between Uncle Sam, Wonder Boy, and Gundra and Masked Marvel.
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Post by DocQuantum on Sept 19, 2023 16:12:21 GMT
Thanks! And don’t forget Buddy!
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Post by lawrenceliberty on Sept 19, 2023 17:00:58 GMT
Thanks! And don’t forget Buddy! Can't forget either Buddy!
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Post by lawrenceliberty on Sept 22, 2023 18:30:30 GMT
Do you think as Uncle Sam's aura kept the Freedom Fighters young, that there was any kind of slowing of the aging for the people the other Freedom Fighters like Condor, Ray, Dollman, were around the most like Wendy Foster, the Buddies etc? By the way, I like Zero's living in Dr. Strange's house!
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