by Drivtaan
The Super Friends seem a little hesitant as they take their place in front of the judges. Off to the side, several members of the Legion of Funk are snickering, and even the Teen Titans aren’t looking at their mentors with much hope.
Green Lantern adjusts the microphone in front of him, and the band begins to play.
***
Making Sure The World’s Safe
(To the tune of Taking Care Of Business)
We get up every morning
When alarms blow their warning
Aliens attacking in the city
There’s a spacecraft in the sky and
People screamin’, people dyin’
Nothing in the town is lookin’ pretty
Then the Super Friends arrive
We fight to keep people alive
And send the aliens back on their way
So if the aliens return
Then you’ll know just where to turn
Just call of the J. L. of A.
And we’ll be…
Making sure the world’s safe, every day
Making sure the world’s safe, every way
We’re always making sure the world’s safe, all the time
Making sure the world’s safe, and doing it in rhyme
Look out
Now Aquaman’s a wishin’
He’d do more than talk to fishes
So he could be a popular fellow
And take a look at Superman
The hero’s got a lot of fans
And he seems so laid back and mellow
Wonder Woman’s got her fans
When she’s working on her tan
The guys are all thinkin’ that she’s fine
Now the other Super Friends
All of which are men
Know Wonder Woman has no tan lines
And we are…
Making sure the world’s safe, every day
Making sure the world’s safe, every way
We’re always making sure the world’s safe, all the time
Making sure the world’s safe, and doing it in rhyme
We’ll take good care of your world
Everyday, keep evil away, whoo!
We get up every morning
When alarms blow their warning
Aliens attacking in the city
There’s a spacecraft in the sky and
People screamin’, people dyin’
Nothing in the town is lookin’ pretty
Then the Super Friends arrive
We fight to keep people alive
And send the aliens back on their way
So if the aliens return
Then you’ll know just where to turn
Just call of the J. L. of A.
And we’ll be…
Making sure the world’s safe, every day
Making sure the world’s safe, every way
We’re always making sure the world’s safe, all the time
Making sure the world’s safe, and doing it in rhyme
Making sure the world’s safe
Making sure the world’s safe
Making sure the world’s safe
Making sure the world’s safe
Making sure the world’s safe
***
When the last note sounds, there is no trace of laughter in anyone.
Brainiac leans over to Lex Luthor. “We might not win as easily as we thought.”
“Thank you for your performance,” Ilda says. “Please remove yourselves from the stage area.”
“Whar’s that third band?” Jonah Hex asks.
“They should be arriving right about… now,” I say.
And Snapper Carr pops in, right on time.
“No tan lines,” one of the newcomers says as he looks over at Wonder Woman and smiles.
“Hey, Doc,” I say, as I approach the speaker, the only one of the group wearing normal clothes.
“Why am I here?” Doc asks, but before I can answer, he grins. Looking at those with him, all of whom, with the exception of one, are dressed in late-’80s, big-hair, glam rocker outfits. “Never mind. I’m sure this is going to be interesting.”
“Is this everybody?” I ask.
“Snapper said you needed everyone who worked on this round robin, so this is who I came up with.”
There is a general groan from the group as they realize what is about to happen. (There is a good chance that, somewhere down the road, I will pay for what is about to take place. I can only hope that you all will make it funny.)
Doc begins pointing at the others, a half-dozen in all. First, we have Starsky, then Martin, Libby, Brian (who looks more like Sid Vicious than an ’80s glam rocker), Comickook, and finally Blackwolf.” He looks at me. “Were the outfits your idea?”
I grin.
“How do you know that they can play and sing?” he asks.
“Artistic license.”
Doc grins. “Works for me.”
Jonah interrupts us. “You fellers gonna stand there a-jawin’, or are yuh gonna let them sing?”
“OK, gang,” I say, turning to the group, none of whom looking very happy, “you heard the man. Show them how it’s done.”
Starsky looks at me. “Are you sure about this, Driv?”
“Oh,” I say, with a smile, “it’s way too late to worry about that now.”
They take their place, pick up their instruments — none of them very sure of themselves — and begin to play.
***
Write
(To the tune of Jump)
I wake up, I gotta get it down
This story’s tough, one of the toughest I’ve found
But I know, reader, just how you feel
I’ve got to write through the mind block ’cause that was the deal
Ah, can’t you see me writing here
I’ve got my paper and my pencil in hand
I got a plot and a plan
But I’m not Stan Lee the Man
Ah
Might as well write
(Write)
Might as well write
Gonna go ahead and write
(Write)
I’m gonna write
So, uh
What now
I ask you
Where’s the story go
You say you truly don’t know
The readers all want to know
Ah, can’t you see me writing here
I’ve got my paper and my pencil in hand
I got a plot and a plan
But I’m not Stan Lee the Man
Ah
Might as well write
(Write)
Might as well write
Gonna go ahead and write
(Write)
I’m gonna write
Might as well write
(Write)
Go ahead and write
Grab a pen, write
(Write)
I’m gonna write
Write
Write
Write
Write
***
When the last note dies, no one is more surprised at their performance than they are. They begin a round of high fives.
“Before we can give our final judgment on the group,” Ilda says, “we are going to need to know the group’s name.”
“They’re the 5E Crew,” I say.
The judges nod and begin to deliberate.
“Well, gang,” I say. “Looks like all we can do now is wait.”
The group’s elation at performing vanishes, and they turn to me as one. They even speak as one: “Shut up.”
***
As the judges deliberate, I get the feeling I know who the winner is going to be. What am I saying? I know exactly who the winner is going to be; I also know what is going to happen afterwards.
Reaching in my pocket, I remove a handful of papers and seven pencils. I hand them to the members of the 5E Crew and let them know what to do.
Ilda motions for everyone to be silent. “Our decision has been made.”
“Finally,” Lex Luthor says. “Hurry up and give us our prize so that we may be on our way.”
“Y’ain’t gittin’ no prize, ya bald-headed galoot,” Jonah Hex says, “so pipe down.”
“Did we win?” Starsky asks, his voice low. “Wonder Woman could be my groupie.”
“No,” I say, “you didn’t.”
“Then, that means…” Blackwolf starts to say.
“Congratulations goes to the Super Friends,” Fantomah says. “Here is your prize.”
As Superman takes an envelope from the jungle goddess, the trio of judges disappears.
“What did we win?” Robin asks.
Superman opens the envelope and discovers a paper inside. He removes it and starts to read. After a moment, he folds it and puts it back in the envelope.
“Well?” Aquaman asks.
“It looks like we’ve won a contract to have our own cartoon,” Superman tells his friends.
“AAARRRGGG!”
Everyone turns to see Solomon Grundy and Bizarro getting ready to attack.
“Me am never want me own cartoon!” Bizarro says with a growl.
“OK, gang,” I say. “I hope you’ve got those papers written like I asked you to, because we are about to need them.”
“Grundy want to be on television!”
And with that loud exclamation, the Legion of Funk is gone, and the Legion of Doom is back. But before the Super Friends and the Teen Titans can react, the 5E Crew responds.
Each member of the Legion is pelted with a piece of paper that, when it bounces off and hits the floor, causes a hole to open beneath their feet. Before the villains know what has happened, they have dropped from the main plot of the story.
Superman walks over to find out what happened. “What happened?” he asks.
“You won’t have to worry about the Legion for quite a while,” I say.
“But, what happened?”
“Well,” I say, “the Legion of Doom fell victim to the one thing that can keep a character out of the loop for a long time.”
The other Super Friends and their young protégés gather around.
“Well,” Batman says, “I trust you are just prolonging your response for dramatic effect.”
“Yes,” I say. “Yes, I am.”
“Before you tell us what happened,” Wonder Woman says, “would you mind very much if I became a 5E Crew groupie?”
I look at Starsky. “Sure, why not?”
I hear Wonder Woman whisper something to my fellow writers about proving she has tan lines. We’ll go no further with that.
“So,” Robin says, “what happened?”
“Well,” I say, “the Legion of Doom has fallen victim to one of the most dreaded occurrences in the writing world.”
“You don’t mean…?” Doc says.
“Yes, that is correct,” I say. “The Legion of Doom has fallen victim… to plot holes.”