Tales of the Bizarro World: Satan Baby, Chapter 4: Not-So-Silent Partner

by Doc Quantum

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Bizarro No. 2 was overcome by tremendous feelings of joy, causing him to want to hurt the fiend terribly. Trailing the monster at the slowest possible speed, he finally tracked down the Satan impostor to a huge coal structure at the East Pole.

It was a glimmering palace made of coal, with spires along the tops of the walls and colorful streamers hanging down, giving it a storybook look and feel. Listening with his super-hearing, he heard the sounds of children laughing and bells ringing ring-a-ling.

Within he found a scene of horror too terrible to behold. It was a village full of short humans dressed like peasants who had big, round bellies. In fact, every single person in this village looked well-fed and happier than anyone he’d ever seen before. Several of them were singing or humming happy tunes and carols to themselves, while others simply joined along as in a choir or simply nodded as they listened, instead of punching the singers in the mouth like any good Bizarro would do in such a situation. What terrible crimes had these people committed to be treated so well? What evil could perpetrate such an execrable place as this? Bizarro No. 2 shivered as he contemplated meeting the man who had planned out such a settlement. It was an abomination on the Bizarro World, going against everything Bizarros stood for.

Spying the village with his super-vision, Bizarro No. 2 finally caught a glimpse of the familiar red and white Satan outfit, and he moved in to confront the monster who had been giving him so much trouble on this day of days.

“Me want to shake your hand!” Bizarro No. 2 shouted as he swooped in, stopping before the figure still shrouded in shadow. “Me so angry me want to shake your hand so hard!”

As Bizarro No. 2 shook his hand in uncontrollable joy, his foe turned into the light, immediately disrobing the filthy red and white rags that had made him look like Satan Claus come to life.

Bizarro No. 2 gasped as he beheld the monster before him. He was a stocky, muscular man wearing a sleeveless blue tunic, blue gloves and long boots that reached up past his knees, and a blue metal helmet. But what really shocked him was the man’s perfectly smooth, candy-colored pink skin and the huge, warm, welcoming smile on his face.

“Goodbye, Bizarro-Superman No. 2,” said the figure in a deep, reassuring voice that reminded one immediately of Perry Como or Bing Crosby. “Me am truly disgusted to meet you.”

“Wh-who are you?” gasped Bizarro No. 2, unable to look away from his horribly handsome visage and perfectly smooth skin.

“Me am… Bizarro-Darkseid,” said the man. “And me am here to bring eternal peace, light, and hope to Htrae!”

“Y-you must be the monster Bizarro-Jimmy created,” Bizarro No. 2 said as he beheld the individual he had been ineptly trailing all day long. “But me never imagined just how much of a monster you’d be!”

“Please, let my people prepare meal for you,” said Bizarro-Darkseid, donning the red and white Satan Claus hat over his head once more to help bring festive cheer. “Them am group of former Hunger Dogs me bring here from Apokolips, but am only Stuffed Dogs now after me torture them with delicious meals.”

The Hunger Dogs laughed at their master’s supposed joke, every one of them in the vicinity looking at Bizarro-Darkseid with adoring, puppy-dog eyes.

“Why?” demanded Bizarro No. 2 as he was ushered to the feasting hall. “Why you want do this to Bizarro World?”

“It am reason me exist,” replied Bizarro-Darkseid. “You call me monster, but all me really do is break Bizarro Code. You am seen nothing yet. Me spread message of hope and freedom all over Htrae before long. Soon, all Bizarros turn back on Bizarro Code and follow way of Bizarro-Darkseid!”

“Not if me can help it!” said Bizarro No. 2, shooting his foe with ice-vision and preparing to strike.

But Bizarro-Darkseid’s eyes suddenly flashed, causing the ice around him to shatter immediately, and two eye-beams of light shot forth. Moving at a slow, lackadaisical pace, they swerved out of Bizarro No. 2’s path, moving directly up into the sky, then back down through a palace window, then made a loop-de-loop before finally fizzling out as they struck Bizarro No. 2’s back, tickling him greatly. The Bizarro-Superman burst into a fit of laughter, infuriating him more.

“How am this be?” Bizarro No. 2 muttered. “You am powerful enough to hurt even me!”

“Me want you to know me mean serious business here, so me give you smallest possible dose of alpha beams,” said Bizarro-Darkseid, still smiling and still speaking in the same deep, reassuring, Bing Crosby-like voice as before. “Me remake Bizarro World in my own image as soon as possible — maybe even by end of thirtieth century.”

“But why you start sane scheme by giving children toys?” demanded Bizarro No. 2, still scratching the itchy tickles all over his body. “Is big crime on Bizarro World to give toys to kids on Christmas!”

“Me admit me didn’t come up with idea,” said Bizarro-Darkseid with a shrug. “Me original plan was to discover pro-life equation, then use it to give all Bizarros true organic life, not merely simulated life like now.”

“You monster!” gasped Bizarro No. 2. “You am take away everything that make Bizarro Bizarro!”

“There am worse way to live than under Bizarro Code,” said Bizarro-Darkseid earnestly, taking a moment to pat the head of a small child who presented him with a picture drawn of him in crayon. “Me original plan take too long, so me adopt new plan my ally give me, but not until me rescue many Hunger Dogs from bleak existence on Apokolips, right under Darkseid’s nose.”

Bizarro-Darkseid looked around at all of his so-called Stuffed Dogs, who gathered around him in deep gratitude and love for their savior. “And together, me vow that me will never stop spreading Christmas cheer all across Bizarro World!” The powerful-looking Bizarro’s words were met with loud cheers, clapping, and strange booming sounds.

Suddenly, two intense beams of light shot directly into Bizarro-Darkseid’s chest. The fake Satan Claus, the village of hope, and all the Hunger Dogs who lived there were instantly destroyed and even vaporized in the explosion along with their master. Bizarro No. 2 found himself hurtling several miles up through the atmosphere from the explosion before he recovered long enough to slow himself down and stop at the edge of space.

Bizarro No. 2 was genuinely moved by the passion behind Bizarro-Darkseid’s words and actions, even if he didn’t agree with them. To be so determined to follow through with his life’s mission that he immediately gave up and destroyed himself with his own alpha beams was an incredible statement to make, no matter what you believed.

It was, in fact, a Christmas miracle.

Wiping away some vomit from his mouth, Bizarro No. 2 flew back home to search for and destroy every toy he could find before morning.


In another dimension accessible only via the inter-dimensional portals called Boom Tubes, the fire pits on the planet Apokolips smoldered on. Within a huge structure overlooking Armagetto, home of the Hunger Dogs, the lord and master of this world surveyed his domain.

“My Lord!” said a cowering thin man with wispy dark hair, who was dressed in purple robes. “It is done! The abomination is destroyed!”

“And all those who followed him?” said Darkseid. “What of the Hunger Dogs who left their rightful lord and master to serve the abomination?”

“All dead,” reported DeSaad with glee. “None live to tell the tale of Bizarro-Darkseid!”

Darkseid’s eyes suddenly flashed in anger. “Speak not his name, fool, lest you join their fate!”

“Beg forgiveness, sire! DeSaad is unworthy!”

The New God’s eyes continued to flash for a moment more before they finally dimmed, and he turned back to the vista before him. “And the Bizarros? Do they still live?”

DeSaad slumped slightly as he said with some hesitation, “S-some d-did indeed witness the abomination, but they think him m-merely an impostor of their strange god, this… Satan Claus.” He gulped before continuing. “However, My Lord, there is still one who learned of the abomination’s true identity before you rightfully destroyed it.”

“The imperfect Superman clone,” said Darkseid grimly. “Bizarro No. 2 remains alive, then.”

“Y-yes, My Lord,” said DeSaad, preparing himself for his master’s wrath, which he was sure would be horrible with every moment that he was left waiting for his response. Several long moments passed, until Darkseid finally spoke once more.

“So be it.”

“My Lord?”

Darkseid turned to his lackey and raised one brow. “You’ve always been shortsighted, DeSaad. I have no wish to see the Bizarro World destroyed a second time. Have you never considered what a boon it would be to control a planet whose population — well, over half of the population, anyway — possessed all the powers of a Kryptonian? An entire world of Supermen — now that would be a useful tool for conquering other planets, perhaps even whole galaxies, would you not agree?”

“Oh, yes, Lord Darkseid,” agreed DeSaad. “Your brilliance never ceases to–”

“Then deactivate the neutron bomb at once, DeSaad,” interrupted Darkseid. “And the next time you decide to take the initiative without consulting me first, remember that you live and breathe only by my whim. Now go. Your toadying is beginning to annoy me.”

“Aye, My Lord,” replied DeSaad, making a swift exit.

Alone once more, Darkseid began to think about the possibilities now before him. “A world of Supermen ripe for the picking…”


Back on the Bizarro World, as the morning sun shone rays of light across the horizon at the East Pole, there were no signs of life amidst the smoldering remains of Bizarro-Darkseid’s village of hope. There was nothing but death all around the coal palace.

In the hills a short distance away, however, a charred and still-smoking Satan Claus hat now adorned a smaller head, perhaps having been blown into the sky before settling down here, some distance from the destroyed village.

Beneath the hat was a pale and chalky visage of a plastic-like substance with large, wide eyes always staring and constantly scanning back and forth over the horizon, while the body remained moving, always moving, in a mechanical way. Beneath those eyes was a plastic mouth whose lips were frozen in an eternal smile, but which nevertheless uttered an endless stream of words containing no punctuation or pauses at all, in a shrill, tinny voice. That mouth, in turn, was muffled somewhat by a small mask equipped with a toy radio transmitter that carried each and every word to the nearest receiving tower, where it was rebroadcast across the entire planet.

The End

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