Post by redsycorax on Feb 27, 2023 1:29:08 GMT
On Earth-6490, Jimmi Oslon gets peculiarly affected by a space mineral from another dimension and thus metamorphoses into that Corpulent Crimefighter, Fatman!!!
+++
MURTOPOLIS:
One day, red-haired ingenue and hapless curb reporter for the Daily Meteor, Jimmi Oslon, was investigating new scientific developments at the astrophysics office of Dr Venom S. Glance, whose name should have been enough to tip him off that something was amiss. Unfortunately, this is an extremely laborious parody of a Silver Age Jimmy Olsen story, and so he didn't. [Yes, I'm not sure why the Daily Meteor employed Jimmi Oslon as a reporter either, but play along with me, huh?]
"Yes, Jimmi, as you can see, this radioactive mineral can almost instantly kill our experimental animals. It's from an alternate universe and seems to behave like kryptonium does for Superperson, only for earth people. We've rather originally named it Earthite and fortunately, silver seems to shield us from its effects."
"Wow, Professor Glance, what a discovery! Hey, what's that purple meteorite over there?"
"No, Oslon, don't!!! Too late."
"Weird. I just felt a strange tingling sensation. Hey, Professor, why do you have three arms?"
"Ah. Sorry, I should have explained that to you beforehand. Purple earthite seems to be an analogue for crimson kryptonium in Superperson's instance. Except its effects are permanent. Oops."
"But it hasn't affected me one bit, Professor!"
PERIWINKLE WIGHT'S HOME:
For some reason best known to Earth-6490's media companies, a small talkative kitten named Periwinkle ran the Daily Meteor. What? You were expecting a giant wise-cracking yellow duck? Cliche much?
Anyhow, after using cat-operable software, the Efficient Editor settled down in his catbasket, preparing for a night of hard slumber, dreaming of tasty mice. However, at three o'clock that morning, the diminutive small feline was startled by a loud noise. Extracting himself from the roof, Periwinkle Wight padded to the guest room, only to witness:
"Great Elvis's Ghost, Oslon! You've destroyed my spare bedroom! And you're also the size of an elephant."
"Oh, Chef! What shall I do? According to Prof Glance, I'm going to be stuck like this forever! Is my life going to be a never ending series of awful weightist jokes for the next several decades?"
"Don't call me Chef. Perhaps Superperson has an antidote? Good thing he has superstrength and can take you anywhere, otherwise we'd have to get a crane in to lift you from the premises."
MURTOPOLIS:
And as a consequence, the next few days were full of ridiculously stereotyped cheap weightist gag routines for Jimmi and his best pal, Superperson. When Jimmi wasn't causing irrigation relief from droughts after he'd dived into adjacent lakes, or assisting firefighters in rescue practice because architecture was no match for his girth, he had to dress up as the Solstice Warlock because there weren't any other clothes suitable for Murtopolis' people of girth. His girlfriend, Loozi Lope, spotted him near a chimney, then realised that her paramour had gotten himself into yet another weird transformative scrape. Ah well, it could be worse. At least Jimmi wasn't a woman, a penguin, a walking skeleton, a Shriner or tapdancer this time. Added to which, Loozi suddenly realised, she found his plumpness really, really hot. Yes, Loozi was a chubby chaser, which she only realised as she laid her suddenly lustful eyes on Jimmi's abundant expense of scorchingly sexy flesh. Why hadn't she realised this long beforehand, like the visit to the Legion of Super Teenagers in the thirtieth century in which she started a romance with Spheroid Lad?
As well, there were all manner of other hackneyed weightist asides, like impertinent sales staff at a clothing store who made inexplicable jokes about British racehorses, or having a circus fat lady pretend that he was her husband because the ringmaster was short-sighted, before dumping a bowl of ice cream on his head. At that moment, Loozi just happened to walk along: "Gasp! Jimmi Oslon! You've been two-timing me with Mrs Fontana, the Murtopolis Circus fat lady! But she's married! Oh, Jimmi! Sob! And I find large men extremely attractive!" Wailing, Loozi ran off, having yet again jumped to conclusions. The hapless Jimmi was despondent, until a convenient Maharajah turned up and promised to give Jimmi an enormous amount of diamonds equivalent to his current three hundred pound bodyweight. Jimmi decided previously to go along with the planned bodyweight equivalency when he was slimmer and realised that he could now make a robustly endowed donation to charity, given his current girth- and still have millions left over. He had also decided to invest the money in fighting crime, given the fact that Earth-6490 quite conveniently had no Batman analogue and for some reason, stately and abandned Whine Manor was situated in Murtopolis, not Goffim just across the bay.
All ended moderately happily. Although Jimmi Oslon never dipped below three hundred pounds again in his life, he started up a new career as a millionaire playboy and with the diamonds and some judicious investments, opened a charitable foundation and business enterprise, and courtesy of a tailor-made wide-girth bodysuit with a cowl that concealed his real identity, became Earth-6490's Corpulent Crimefighter, Doughnut Detective, Fatman!!! Even better, he reconciled with Loozi Lope and the two of them married. Loozi discovered that it was really fortunate that she hadn't continued the relationship with Chuck Waggoner, the Spheroid Lad of the thirtieth century, because given that there was only a limited market for plus-sized superbeings on Earth-6490 anyhow, Spheroid Lad was Fatman and Loozi's direct descendant!!!
THE END [3.40 PM, FEBRUARY 26, 2023]
Source: "The Fat Boy of Metropolis" Jimmy Olsen 49 (December 1960): davidmorefield.com/superman/jimmy/fatboy.html
+++
MURTOPOLIS:
One day, red-haired ingenue and hapless curb reporter for the Daily Meteor, Jimmi Oslon, was investigating new scientific developments at the astrophysics office of Dr Venom S. Glance, whose name should have been enough to tip him off that something was amiss. Unfortunately, this is an extremely laborious parody of a Silver Age Jimmy Olsen story, and so he didn't. [Yes, I'm not sure why the Daily Meteor employed Jimmi Oslon as a reporter either, but play along with me, huh?]
"Yes, Jimmi, as you can see, this radioactive mineral can almost instantly kill our experimental animals. It's from an alternate universe and seems to behave like kryptonium does for Superperson, only for earth people. We've rather originally named it Earthite and fortunately, silver seems to shield us from its effects."
"Wow, Professor Glance, what a discovery! Hey, what's that purple meteorite over there?"
"No, Oslon, don't!!! Too late."
"Weird. I just felt a strange tingling sensation. Hey, Professor, why do you have three arms?"
"Ah. Sorry, I should have explained that to you beforehand. Purple earthite seems to be an analogue for crimson kryptonium in Superperson's instance. Except its effects are permanent. Oops."
"But it hasn't affected me one bit, Professor!"
PERIWINKLE WIGHT'S HOME:
For some reason best known to Earth-6490's media companies, a small talkative kitten named Periwinkle ran the Daily Meteor. What? You were expecting a giant wise-cracking yellow duck? Cliche much?
Anyhow, after using cat-operable software, the Efficient Editor settled down in his catbasket, preparing for a night of hard slumber, dreaming of tasty mice. However, at three o'clock that morning, the diminutive small feline was startled by a loud noise. Extracting himself from the roof, Periwinkle Wight padded to the guest room, only to witness:
"Great Elvis's Ghost, Oslon! You've destroyed my spare bedroom! And you're also the size of an elephant."
"Oh, Chef! What shall I do? According to Prof Glance, I'm going to be stuck like this forever! Is my life going to be a never ending series of awful weightist jokes for the next several decades?"
"Don't call me Chef. Perhaps Superperson has an antidote? Good thing he has superstrength and can take you anywhere, otherwise we'd have to get a crane in to lift you from the premises."
MURTOPOLIS:
And as a consequence, the next few days were full of ridiculously stereotyped cheap weightist gag routines for Jimmi and his best pal, Superperson. When Jimmi wasn't causing irrigation relief from droughts after he'd dived into adjacent lakes, or assisting firefighters in rescue practice because architecture was no match for his girth, he had to dress up as the Solstice Warlock because there weren't any other clothes suitable for Murtopolis' people of girth. His girlfriend, Loozi Lope, spotted him near a chimney, then realised that her paramour had gotten himself into yet another weird transformative scrape. Ah well, it could be worse. At least Jimmi wasn't a woman, a penguin, a walking skeleton, a Shriner or tapdancer this time. Added to which, Loozi suddenly realised, she found his plumpness really, really hot. Yes, Loozi was a chubby chaser, which she only realised as she laid her suddenly lustful eyes on Jimmi's abundant expense of scorchingly sexy flesh. Why hadn't she realised this long beforehand, like the visit to the Legion of Super Teenagers in the thirtieth century in which she started a romance with Spheroid Lad?
As well, there were all manner of other hackneyed weightist asides, like impertinent sales staff at a clothing store who made inexplicable jokes about British racehorses, or having a circus fat lady pretend that he was her husband because the ringmaster was short-sighted, before dumping a bowl of ice cream on his head. At that moment, Loozi just happened to walk along: "Gasp! Jimmi Oslon! You've been two-timing me with Mrs Fontana, the Murtopolis Circus fat lady! But she's married! Oh, Jimmi! Sob! And I find large men extremely attractive!" Wailing, Loozi ran off, having yet again jumped to conclusions. The hapless Jimmi was despondent, until a convenient Maharajah turned up and promised to give Jimmi an enormous amount of diamonds equivalent to his current three hundred pound bodyweight. Jimmi decided previously to go along with the planned bodyweight equivalency when he was slimmer and realised that he could now make a robustly endowed donation to charity, given his current girth- and still have millions left over. He had also decided to invest the money in fighting crime, given the fact that Earth-6490 quite conveniently had no Batman analogue and for some reason, stately and abandned Whine Manor was situated in Murtopolis, not Goffim just across the bay.
All ended moderately happily. Although Jimmi Oslon never dipped below three hundred pounds again in his life, he started up a new career as a millionaire playboy and with the diamonds and some judicious investments, opened a charitable foundation and business enterprise, and courtesy of a tailor-made wide-girth bodysuit with a cowl that concealed his real identity, became Earth-6490's Corpulent Crimefighter, Doughnut Detective, Fatman!!! Even better, he reconciled with Loozi Lope and the two of them married. Loozi discovered that it was really fortunate that she hadn't continued the relationship with Chuck Waggoner, the Spheroid Lad of the thirtieth century, because given that there was only a limited market for plus-sized superbeings on Earth-6490 anyhow, Spheroid Lad was Fatman and Loozi's direct descendant!!!
THE END [3.40 PM, FEBRUARY 26, 2023]
Source: "The Fat Boy of Metropolis" Jimmy Olsen 49 (December 1960): davidmorefield.com/superman/jimmy/fatboy.html