Futures End: Action Comics #1

Five years ago, the world as we know it ceased to be. Luckily, the world as we know it from The Road Warrior came into being. Many people were prepared for this turn of events. Too bad those people were geeks and nerds without any real survival skills. Tragically, they were all rape-murdered by corporate CEOs who, it turned out, were the biggest sociopaths on the planet. Some nerds and geeks survived longer than others due to their proficiency at oral sex. But even these desperate, shameless nerds could not last for long. Eee! Tess Ate Chai Tea gave and gave and gave but eventually, as he knew deep down would happen, he used a little too much teeth. He was thrown into Lightning Dome, a more terrifying version of Thunder Dome, where twenty combatants entered and nineteen left. Mostly because the nineteen were working together to fightfuck the lone other. Eee! Tess Ate Chai Tea lasted thirteen minutes, a good showing but not good enough to be remembered for more than the long weekend.

As it turned out, some of the most depraved and richest CEOs were the biggest fans of Eee! Tess Ate Chai Tea. When the updates stopped (for, you see, DC Comics continued to publish during these post-apocalyptic times although their market share was now worse than Dynamite. In their defense, Gail Simone was being forced to write all of the titles deep within Dynamite headquarters, and all of the titles featured naked lesbians as every character), the CEOs grew desperate for the only written entertainment they could stomach. A new Tess was needed. And who better to take over the job than the monster that delivered the death thrust to Tess, Goggles McDeathhurt.

And now, five years later, Goggles McDeathhurt and Clorox Cola Theater Present: HOLY FUCK! Don't Put That There Chai Tea!

Welcome back, Scanners! Bout dis time, I figurin' youse alls heard bout da bloody frowdown out in Reading City what was old Baltymorn, right? Dem culty weirdies, dat gang what calls demselves The Deep Stacks, raided da underground fortress a dem what call demselves da Long Boxes. It been a bloody couple nights, as related onna me by Archivist Melville whended he done deliverem ta me some a dem Formertime comic books. Dems guys, dese Deep Stacks, deys says dey gonna collectem all a dat knowledge of the Formertime cause it be worth like major koku, ya gits it? Sez dey is gonna rebuildem da worlds by reeducaciten demselves of da fings most peoples done forgetted. I says leavem da past to da corpses cuz look where it got dem and us acause of dem. Some might say I, Goggles, and youse, Chai Tea Fans, has been parts of da problems too since Formertimes were justa, you know, cinco round trips ago, ja? But it ain't like we gripped on da powers or nuttins. Wes jus' doin our fing, baain' and baain' and clippin' da grass jus ta gits by, says me. And what sponsibility has da sheeps gots when da farmer missin' him mortgage payment, ya know? But I does particular enjoys me Formertime comic books, sees? And Archivist Melville, he and somma him mates, like Archivist Heller and Archivist Stein, dems like da HOLY FUCK! Don't Put That There Chai Tea broadcasts. I fink dat Archivist Melville havem a bitty crush on ol' Goggles, see? Dat why dey raid dem Long Boxes, most probably.

Hey you dem Long Boxes out dere in the Dusty Stretches? How you likem dem new boot ups your arses? You wants me ta calls off dem Deep Stacks, yous delieverem somma more of dese littyrature books, kay? None of that wank paste by HerSimone neither, you gots? Somefin like dis here Imma got into readin' now mit herr Superman and all.

Dis here book gots Supermans farmin up ole Afirca cause he done fink a desert be practically a place what jess had a bad growin' season.

And soon you be walkin' cross da floo-oo-oor!

One dem big secrets da Goddess done teach us during da early days of the Rereckoning: belief be all ya need ta change The Real. Looks like Clark be a follower of da Goddess, blessem her charitable hearts. He gonna fink dem good toughts until he got dem good crops.

Oy fuck! Jus' heared that big old bell ta prayer and Goggs bein' in the middle of a broadcast. I guess it be aight I prays up in public dis here one time since dis here studio kinda resemblates a prayer closet. Jus' a quick un, wot? Let me punchem up a prayer on da prayer randomizer and give it a good ol' read, ja?

"Und da Muses yelled up at The Real, and they sayin' to 'em, 'Yo? The Real? Dissem here is da way it gonna be. The Goddess, ja? She make it, the Promise, all up when we in Harpo. The Goddess, she ain't make dis here Promise wit da mens, git it? She makin' it wit us, the wymyns, who in all of us got the power, gots the real power, ya knowin'? The Goddess, she sayunt to you, right out of the mounted HD, right out of the Kindled Fires. And The Muses stood between The Goddess and The Real for so they could take like the brunts of the fear, rights? And they listenin' and The Goddess, she sayin, 'I am the Goddess which brought thee out of dat house of Ed Gyp, out of the house of servitudes and motherin', ja?'"

Dat dere's da enda dat prayer comin' outta my prayer randomizer. Buts we knows da rest, aight? How she keep sayin', cause she got the real important bits comin' up, dat bit dat we's gots ta know or we ain't never gonna climb up out of dese here Dusty Stretches. The Goddess gives us dem Ten Promises, da ones we hold for truth, and dems da ones we keep in our hearts. Ah, nevermind all dat, nohow. None youse lissen for hearin' dose fings we a'eady knows, right down deep in the softness of dem bones, dem bones, for dey be da workins of The Goddess. Dis here be an entertation broadcast, not no Holy Scriptverse.

Dis here wymyns ain't rightly taken up the word of The Goddess, sees?

Ya cans tell dis here be a Formertimes comic book acause it shows such a graphical representatum of the Ways of The Liard. Dis here comic book really mussa been hoarded by dem Long Boxes, what da scofflaws sometime refer to as dem N-words. I ain't never use dat language cause I ain't lookin' ta commit da Capital Offensiveness. Buts wes gots so many N-words and R-Words and P-Slurs nows, ya probably ain't got the notions of which I means. But I means the ones that ends in the beards and begins with the necks, ya know? The N-words. Wat mos' dem Long Boxes looks like, sí? Deys still fink dem old ways gonna come backs, so dey hoardem all dese images of people following da Ways of the Liard, those wot been wrongfully called dem Promise Keepers. But dey ain't heard da real Promise, ja? Dey ain't heard what we'll all receive if we follows up The Goddess Way and apply Her Secret to ourselps and keeps her Promises for our owns and acknowledgem her Reading List for dem fundermentals.

Dis here Formertime comic gots da real crazy story bout some Supersandman flying round givin' people da illusion of power so dat maybe dey mightem find da real powers up in demselves. Peeps what bury emotions becomes invulnerable ta pain. Dems dat have been weak willed fillin' up wit physical prowesses. And dose falling into despair git da power ta liftem demselves up inta da clouds. But after the Supersandman takes away allem new powers and trades 'em for a Promise, and a Secret. The Promise dat alla dem have da power to save demselves. The Secret dat the choices, the abilities to manipulate The Real, it be up inside dem forevers and alwaysbeens. But Superandman still have Clark left ta visit before the story ends itself up.

Dis here be a perversion of The Goddess' Secret; dis here be Femignostic claptrap bout usin' da Secret and da Promise ta helpem others.

Supersandman sacrifices himself for to teach Superman dat helping others offentimes be da way ta helpin' amselves. But what way dat gits us but lots of corpses what doin' fings for peeps dat ain't gots da stones ta corpsicate demselves for da ovvers, feels? So dose supposedly strenghtified in convictions lyin' dead in the dirts while dose weakest willies lives on ta cower in da brush and hopes dat da world don'ts finds 'em? Dis world be harsh enuff mitout takin' yer one life for da betterment of scallywaggles and leftists. First rules of the Secrets and the Promises: wes helps ourselfs first. And only when wes outnumbers dem dat would carry death to our door do we helps da others dat be wit us. Your goal ain't never gonna be my goal 'ceptin' when your goal a'eady is my goal. Dat be da end of the way and dat be the way to move ahead and dat be, maybe, eventually, da way we crawl up ourselfs outta dese here Dusty Stretches.

Keep da Secret safe and da Promise ever in da hearts, and I be here next time if'n I survive da Lightning Dome tonight. Gots ta be makin' da hays while da suns shine, ya feel?