by Comickook and T Campbell
In the labyrinthine halls of Sting Sting Prison, nestled in the heart of Gnu York state, a trio of unlikely allies — Rubberduck, Yankee Poodle, and the Earth-Reverse-C Doctor Hoot — navigated the twists and turns with a sense of purpose. Their destination? The infamous Zoo Crew Wing, a fortress within a fortress, designed to contain the most notorious super-powered miscreants captured by said team.
The wing was a veritable rogue’s gallery. Polly Wannacracker, better known as the Squawker, was still attempting her great escape, her sonic blasts futile against the soundproof barriers of her cell. (*) Digger O’Doom, his powers artificially sustained by the malevolent machinations of this world’s evil Doctor Hoot, languished in a cell of reinforced titanium, a testament to the lengths the Zoo Crew would go to keep their world safe. (*)
[(*) Editor’s note: See “Squawk Loudly, and Carry a Big Grudge,” Captain Carrot and His Amazing Zoo Crew #8 (October, 1982) and “Digger O’Doom,” Captain Carrot and His Amazing Zoo Crew #6 (August, 1982).]
Nearby, the Cheshire Cheetah, captured post-battle with Fastback, paced in a cell vibrating in sync with his own molecular frequency, a clever ploy to foil any phasing attempts. (*) Solar Bear and the Salamandroid, too, were kept under lock and key, each cell a marvel of super-prison engineering. (*)
[(*) Editor’s note: See “The Fadeaway Crimes of the Cheshire Cheetah,” Captain Carrot and His Amazing Zoo Crew #10 (December, 1982), “Here Comes the Sun,” Captain Carrot and His Amazing Zoo Crew #18 (August, 1983), and “The Sinister Salamandroid,” Captain Carrot and His Amazing Zoo Crew #11 (January, 1983).]
But the pièce de résistance of this high-security tableau was the cell of Samantha Drake, or as she was infamously known, the Siren Belle. It was to her that our heroes now turned their attention.
Rubberduck, his feathers impeccably groomed, cleared his throat. “Miss Drake,” he began, his voice betraying none of the effort it took to maintain his composure, “we find ourselves in need of your… unique talents. There’s a cadre of super-criminals out there, and they’re not playing by the rules. We could use someone with your… insight.”
Samantha, reclining on her chaise lounge, regarded the heroes with a mix of amusement and intrigue. “Oh?” she purred, her voice a melody that had once spelled doom for many. “And what’s in it f’ me, duckling?”
Yankee Poodle, ever the pragmatist, chimed in. “A glowing recommendation at your parole hearing, for starters, dahling. Think of it as… community service with benefits.”
Doctor Hoot, the silent observer until now, added his two cents. “It’s a chance to rewrite your story, Miss Drake. From villainess to valiant ally.”
Samantha perched on the edge of her plush velvet seat, a sly grin playing on her lips as her eyes twinkled with the prospect. The air was thick with anticipation, and the scent of adventure was more intoxicating than the finest perfume. This was the moment she’d been waiting for. Not only would she have her powers back — if that device the armored owl was carrying was really what she thought it might be — but she could also prove that she’d really turned over a new leaf.
“Well, sugah, you’ve certainly piqued mah interest,” she drawled, her Southern charm as potent as ever. “Y’all can count this Southern belle in for the ball.” Her smile sent a flutter through Rubberduck’s heart, which skipped and tripped over itself like a clumsy dancer.
Meanwhile, in the bowels of Sting Sting Prison, Fantastidrake, the master of elasticity, was threading himself through the prison’s innards with the grace of a serpent. He had committed the layout to memory, his x-ray binoculars revealing secrets hidden within the walls. He halted just shy of the Zoo Crew Wing, aware of the alarms woven into the very pipes he navigated. With a slink and a slide, he emerged, unseen but all-seeing, his mind reaching out to ensnare the wills of the unsuspecting guards.
Under his mental dominion, the guards moved as if in a trance, their hands betraying them as they disabled the security systems and the anti-teleportation energy field surrounding the prison wing. Fantastidrake, hidden in the shadows, allowed himself a moment of triumph as he pressed a concealed button on his belt. In an instant, Swanky Poodle and Slashback materialized within the wing, their arrival silent but for the faintest hum of displaced air.
Back in the cell, the Earth-Reverse-C Doctor Hoot was engrossed in his work, his focus on the charger collar/cap device he had invented that would restore Siren Belle’s powers. So engrossed was he that the sudden appearance of Swanky Poodle and Slashback nearly caught him off-guard. But nearly was not completely, and with reflexes honed by countless battles, he activated his force-field generator just in time. A shimmering barrier sprang up around them, a thin veil of energy against the impending storm.
“Quick thinking, Doc,” Rubberduck quipped, his voice steady despite the adrenaline coursing through his veins. “But we’re not out of the pond yet.”
Yankee Poodle, ever the stoic, nodded. “We’ve got to get Siren Belle powered up, and fast. These villains aren’t here for a tea party.”
Siren Belle, her eyes alight with the thrill of the moment, couldn’t help but admire the gadgetry at play. “Well, ain’t this a hoot!” she said, her voice a melody amidst the chaos. “Let’s show these party crashers some Southern hospitality.”
As the device hummed to life, charging her with telekinetic and sonic might, the heroes braced themselves. The force-field wouldn’t hold forever, but it didn’t need to — just long enough for Siren Belle to sing her siren song once more. And as the energy coursed through her, Samantha Drake knew that her moment had nearly come — the chance to be more than a villainess, but to be an actual heroine.
Swanky Poodle, her focus as sharp as her fashion sense, was momentarily distracted by the cacophony of chaos that erupted around her. It was then that Fantastidrake, the dastardly duck with a penchant for the dramatic, seized his moment of betrayal.
With a flourish of his feathered hand, he liberated the Squawker from her soundproof sanctuary, knowing she was primed and ready to attack. The villainess, her voice a weapon of mass disruption, unleashed a sonic assault that sent waves of agony through Swanky Poodle’s sensitive ears. Overcome by blinding pain and unable to concentrate, her power ring was rendered powerless as she succumbed to unconsciousness.
Fantastidrake, ever the opportunist, plucked the ring from her limp hand with a magician’s grace. “Ah, my dear Swanky, you’re always so… unprepared,” he tsk-tsked, slipping the power ring onto his own feathered finger. With a mere mental command to the ring, the prison’s most nefarious residents were freed, and in a blur of motion, he and Slashback were teleported to the nebulous netherworld of Limbo.
“This, my dear Slashback, is what is called using your noodle, my hypersonic half-shelled helper,” Fantastidrake crowed, conjuring a viewing screen with the newly acquired ring. “We shall let these vengeance-fueled fools tire out those do-gooders. Then, at their weakest, we shall swoop in for the coup de grâce.”
The scene shifted back to the prison, where the Squawker stood triumphant, her feathers ruffled but her spirit undaunted. “Raaakkk! It’s payback time, poodle!” she squawked with glee. “The sneak attack on that other super-skank was just a warm-up!”
Cheshire Cheetah, his grin as wide as the cell he’d vacated, leaped into the fray. “Indeed, chaps,” he purred, “let’s give these so-called heroes what for!”
Siren Belle, now pulsing with restored power, couldn’t help but chuckle at the unfolding drama. “Well, butter mah biscuit, if it ain’t a full-scale breakout!” she drawled. “Looks like y’all have stirred up a hornet’s nest o’ trouble.”
Rubberduck, his feathers slicked back in battle-ready fashion, nodded. “Indeed, Siren Belle. But as they say, when the going gets tough, the tough get quacking.”
Doctor Hoot, his eyes alight with the thrill of the challenge, adjusted his goggles. “Prepare yourselves, my friends. It’s time to show these villains the true meaning of ‘justice served.'”
Yankee Poodle, her stars and stripes never more vibrant, readied her power ribbons. “Let’s round up these rascals and put them back where they belong,” she declared, her voice a rallying cry.
As the villains converged, the heroes stood united, their resolve as unbreakable as the bonds of friendship that held them together.
***
Just under the surface of the water there was a shape — a dark shape, moving impossibly quickly, heading toward a crowd of swimmers.
Cue cello music.
The swimmers were just starting to notice the strange oval bearing down on them, but they wouldn’t even have time to scream.
Then the oval stopped and bobbed to the surface, and Fastback’s head popped out.
“Phewww-wieee! Ah cain’t believe how long ah had to stay down thar! Us turtles can hold our breaths a good ways, but if’n ah hadn’t kept some air bubbles inside mah shell…”
“¿Que?” one of the swimmers responded. “¿Habla-usted Espaloma?”
“Aw, shoot,” said Fastback, bobbing in the water and looking at the crowd that had gathered around him. He must have swum at least as far as Meggsico, maybe as far as the Spare-ribsean Sea. Or was that on the other side of the continent? He hated geography. He’d hated it ever since he learned that Taxes wasn’t really the biggest state in the United Species of Animerica.
He cupped his hands to his beak. “Anybody here speak Animerican?”
A toucan in a modest swimsuit, named Pamela, stepped forward. “Fast Back, yes? You are Animerican super-hero. Yes?”
“Yes, ma’am. Ah’d be grateful for y’all’s help. See, ah need t’ git these legs o’ mine to a doctor. Preferable-like, a doc who works fast — real fast.”
Toucan Pam studied him. Half his words seemed to be some kind of nonsense language, but she could make out something about legs, a doctor, and speed. And after Fastback paddled to shore and started crawling onto the beach, using only his elbows, she began to get the idea.
***
“Ha-ha-ha-ha!” laughed the Squawker, and even the laughter was paralyzing. Rubberduck stretched his ears closed, and Doctor Hoot’s armor shielded his ears and face, but Yankee Poodle fell, clutching her head. “Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!” Then Polly sucked in a breath, let out a killing shriek… and the sound waves slammed into other waves of equal force, as the Siren Belle met her voice to voice.
“SHREEE-EEE-EEE–”
The stalemate built. Samantha Drake looked into the Squawker’s eyes and felt like she was sinking into twin pools of hate. She, Samantha, had been a criminal; she’d done many things she wasn’t proud of, but she’d never hated another animal, not like this.
“–EEE-EEE-EEE-EEE-EEE-EEE-EEE-EEE-EEE-EEE-EEE-EEE–”
Had she?
As the stalemate kept escalating, the rest of the fight stormed around them.
“You stupid costumes!” shouted Solar Bear, conveniently ignoring the fact that he was wearing a self-materializing costume much stupider than any of theirs. “You kept me from my revenge! Too bad for you!” He glowed. He glowed so brightly that Digger O’Doom was blinded — but the Salamandroid’s solar cells were fully charged.
And then he attacked. He unleashed sweltering heat rays that even Hoot’s armor could barely withstand. Rubberduck dipped and dodged and lifted Rova Barkitt out of the way, and one ray finally blasted a hole in a wall. “Forecast calls for UV rays with a zero percent chance of survival!”
The Solar Bear and the Squawker were of the same vengeance type. Whatever this type’s original goals had been, he or she had grown obsessed with revenge on his or her enemies, be they rival reporters, a scornful audience, or super-powered civil servants.
In his mind, the Cheshire Cheetah had a word for this type. That word was daft.
Money, the thrill of the heist, and his lovely home nation of the United Animal Kingdom were calling to him. And as soon as the Solar Bear blew out the wall, he saw no reason to continue the pounding instead of going after the pounds. He rocketed off so fast he couldn’t be followed by the naked eye, much less by any super-heroes.
Doctor Hoot knocked the Squawker into a wall, and she slumped to the ground without making another sound.
Samantha breathed in, cleared her throat, and gave the Salamandroid her most seductive melody. Unfortunately, she hadn’t been at Sting Sting long enough to realize that she was trying to seduce a robot. Five seconds later she was out cold, and Hoot was using small arms fire to keep the Salamandroid off her, while Byrd Rentals’ questing fingers finally found what he was looking for. He turned the fire extinguisher on Solar Bear, concentrating on his face. The Bear went down easily, like the loser he had always been. Byrd started to feel confident.
But then he felt claws in his stomach muscles, and Digger O’Doom was on him, stretching him in ways even he couldn’t stand for long.
***
In Limbo where they observed, Slashback turned to Fantastidrake. “This’s better’n wrestlin’,” he drawled, munching some power-ring-generated popcorn.
***
The Salamandroid joined in, gripping with adhesive, superheated hands. Rubberduck was about to be sick. Hoot, where was Hoot? Why wasn’t Hoot helping him?
The trademarked sound of one of Rova’s magno-blasts brought a smile to Byrd’s face, and then he turned, and he saw that the trademark had been violated.
His Rova — Yankee Poodle — had been blasted unconscious. And the other Rova, the one in the so-very-wrong bondage gear, was up and fighting, stars and stripes shooting from her hands like shuriken and laser beams. She was fighting Doctor Hoot now. It was hard to tell, since Hoot’s armor covered him from head to toe-claw, but he looked like he was getting the worst of it.
Digger O’Doom took one look at this lady — the homicidal fury in her eyes, and the power she commanded, so much deadlier than his own — ran out the hole in the wall, and started digging an escape tunnel.
The Salamandroid calmly assessed this new situation and weighed it against the Three Laws of Evil Robotics:
One: A robot must obey its master.
Two: A robot must kill its master’s enemies, or, through inaction, allow those enemies to die, as long as doing this does not conflict with the First Law.
Three: A robot must preserve its own existence except when this conflicts with the First or Second Laws.
This second Yankee Poodle was too violent to be identified with the Zoo Crew, and therefore, he could not yet classify her as his master’s enemy. He could safely return to crushing the remaining life out of Rubberduck. And then he saw something that made him pause.
Doctor Hoot’s armor crumpled under one of Swanky Poodle’s magno-blasts and exploded under another, taking nearly all his weapons with it. He lay sprawled on his stomach, tried to rise, then fell again.
“Dear old Doctor,” Swanky Poodle smiled, limping forward. “So BLEEP clean that you didn’t even have any BLEEP secrets for me to BLEEP you with. Oh, I’m going to enjoy this…”
A single stripe shot out of a single finger and wrapped itself around Hoot’s neck, leashing him tight, pulling him up to his knees.
“It’s been a long time,” she sighed, “since I’ve had a BLEEP beak BLEEP my BLEEP BLEEP… and you know how to please, don’t you, little BLEEP? That’s what you spend your whole BLEEP disgusting life doing… pleasing others… BLEEP, you’re sick…”
She never saw it coming — it being the Salamandroid, who knocked her cold and prepared to step on her neck.
“Don’t kill her!” blurted Hoot.
The Salamandroid stopped, surprised. Then he put his foot down, picked up Byrd’s limp neck, and resumed squeezing.
“Don’t kill him, either!” Hoot said. Then, casting a quick glance around the room, he added, “Don’t kill anyone!”
The Salamandroid dropped Byrd, who began coughing faintly, and gave Hoot a wounded look.
“Then how may I serve you, master?”
***
In the power-ringed bubble in Limbo, Fantastidrake slapped the screen repeatedly. Slashback turned to him with a contemptuous sneer.
“So whut’re we gonna do now, Bird Brain?”
“Shut up! I’m trying to think!”
Slashback nodded sagely. “Thet is why y’all fail.”