ISSUE #10 (January 2021)
Written by Travis Hiltz and Patrick Moore |
‘HERE COMES THE DOLL SQUAD!’
Featuring: The Atom by Travis Hiltz!! Ray Palmer turned up the collar of his coat, and hunched his shoulders against the wet, fluffy snowflakes that the wind seemed determined to send rushing into his face and down the back of his neck. He ducked under the overhang of a drug store, a couple buildings down from his destination. There was a line, stretching out the toy store doors and down the sidewalk, nearly to where he stood. Brushing snow off his coat, Ray joined the end of the line. “Is this the line for hot chocolate?” He asked. “Funny guy,” The man grumbled over his shoulder. “We’re all here for that stupid doll…!” “Action figure,” A younger man, in front of the first man corrected. “Whatever.” The first man snapped. “Don’t care what you call them, cause I’m losing the feeling in my feet.” Ray looked around, sighed at the fact that there was no sign of the line moving. He’d volunteered, to be a good boyfriend, and find a Space Ranger action figure for Jean’s nephew. This was his third store and he was cold, frustrated and ready to give up. He stepped out of line and moving into a narrow side alley, adjusted his belt and transformed into his heroic alter ego, the Atom! Once down to three inches in height and clad in his blue and red costume, he leapt to a high ledge on the nearest building, and jogged along the narrow shelf of concrete, until he reached the toy store. Shrinking down to near microscopic size, the Atom slipping through the gap in the door, drifted through the crowd and reached the action figure aisle. Crouched behind a row of Funko Pops, the Atom eavesdropped as two store employees grumbled over the increasingly frustrated and unruly crowds and the lack of Space Ranger toys. They then moved closer together, speaking in hushed tones about a shipment of toys that was rumored to have been stolen, and that being the reason for the shortages around town. The Atom frowned, at this new bit of information, rubbing his chin in thought. His plans for Christmas shopping had just gotten more complicated. Later, in the offices of Jean Loring, attorney at law, the phone rang. “Hello, Loring and Hoben, how may I direct your…aaaahhh…,Ray!” The Atom came flying out of the phone receiver, landed on the chair across the desk from his girlfriend, and transformed back into Ray Palmer. He shrugged out of his overcoat and frowned at Jean. “Why didn’t you tell me about the robberies?” He asked her, sternly. “You had me gift shopping, when there is a gang of thieves stealing those Space Ranger toys?” “The police are investigating the robberies and I could really use the cool aunt points with Brandon and my sister.” Jean shrugged, chagrined. “I probably should have told you. Sorry.” “What else do you know about this?” Ray asked. Jean slid a manila folder across the desk to him. “I have a contact on the police force,” She explained. “And one of the stores that was robbed is a client, so he let me copy the case file.” Ray raised an eyebrow, but accepted the file. “I have an appointment and have to figure out a ‘plan B’ for Brandon’s gift,” Jean said, getting up and gathering up her coat and purse. “I’ll tell Stacy you’re here. Help yourself to my candy stash. It’s in the bottom drawer.” Ray nodded absently, as he read. An hour later, when she returned, he was still reading, but various pages from the file were laid out, across her desk, and Ray had borrowed a note pad and its top couple pages were covered in scribbled notes. “You’ve been busy,” She said, hanging up her coat and handing him a cup of coffee. “Yeah,” Ray nodded, sounding less grumpy. “Think I’ve figured it out.” “World’s greatest detective,” Jean said, kissing him on the top of the head, as she squeezed by him and sat in her chair. “That’s Batman,” Ray said. “I’m just a guy who figures things out. Science is all about patterns, and I think I’ve got this one. Not sure of all the details, but…will your contact at the police listen to you?” “I think so,” Jean shrugged. “I’ve helped him with a couple cases. Why?” Because,” Ray said, turning his note pad to show her a page. “If the thieves have hit these two stores and this warehouse, then odds are their next targets will be…let’s see…the warehouse on Anderson street or this store, and I want the police to watch the warehouse, without anyone realizing the Atom is involved.” “How come?” “Well, I think I’ve figured out the thieves planned schedule, but there’s some details of how they got in that I still don’t know. My plan is, if the thieves see security on the warehouse has been stepped up, then they’ll focus on the store. I’m not going to get too many chances to catch them. It’s two days till Christmas.” “Sounds like a plan,” Jean smiled. “Anything else I can do to help?” “Thanks, but for this to work, I’m going to have to try and call in some specialists.” “The Justice League?” “No,” Ray said, thoughtfully shaking his head. “I have someone else in mind…” The next night, the bone-weary employees of Fox’s Toy Depot, closed up the store and limped home. Once the lights were off, the store lost its atmosphere of vibrant, holiday chaos. Instead, it was shadow-drenched and the doll and action figure aisles (#’s 7 and 9 respectively) with their rows of frozen-expressioned, staring forms made it now appear creepy and threatening. In aisle seven, on a lower shelf, there was a rustle of movement. Several boxes seemed to be moving slightly, of their own accord. Three boxes began to open. The three plastic action figures were Gordonians, the arch-foes of Space Ranger. Reptilian alien soldiers, in yellow, plastic, body suits and battle helmets. The clomped across the aisle, tails, flicking lazily, their three-fingered hands clutching their laser staffs. They awkwardly climbed down from the shelf to the floor and trudged across to the sparsely populated shelf of Space Ranger figures. Two of the plastic aliens crossed their staffs, forming a step for the third to then begin climbing towards the much sought-after toys. The other two then climbed after him. The trio painstakingly made their way to the deluxe Space Ranger figures (with six points of articulation! Light up space pistol and Cyril the alien mini figure included!), at the top shelf, ignoring the shelf of five-inch Space Rangers, as well as the supporting cast figures. “Hey, where do you guys think you’re going?” A voice shouted. Slowly, the plastic aliens turned their heads, seeking out the speaker. One of the boxes on the shelf opened, and a five-inch Space Ranger stepped out, pointing his multi-ray gun at his arch-foes. Being made of plastic, there was no change in their expressions, but the trio swung their yellow battle staffs and pointed them at the other action figure. “Really…?” The Space Ranger action figure said. “Three against one? And you’re all bigger than me…hardly seems fair!” The tips of each battle staff glowed. Space Ranger lunged forward, his gun hand extended. “Zap!” He shouted. The aliens halted, looking about, realizing, nothing had happened. “It’s just a piece of plastic,” Space Ranger chided them, right before he threw it at the nearest Gordanian. It struck it in the forehead, sending it stumbling back into its compatriots and the trio toppled off the shelf, clunking on their way down. Space Ranger followed them down, leaping athletically from shelf to shelf. “I know you guys are evil, inter-galactic slavers,” He said, standing on plastic replica of his crimson spaceship, the Solar King. “But, stealing toys from children, that’s just unforgivably evil!” He leapt down, landing in the middle of the trio and shoving them away. Space Ranger grabbed a staff from the nearest alien and twirled it, keeping them at bay. Swinging the staff, like a sword, Space Ranger disarmed a second alien. Not having read the packaging on the Gordanians’ boxes, he was caught off guard, when the two merely detached their long, green, plastic tails and advanced on the heroic toy, swinging them like clubs. One tail caught him across the temple, knocking his plastic helmet crooked, the other knocked the staff out of his gloved hands. He brought up an arm to block yet another attack, while trying to adjust his helmet. Jabbing with his battle staff, the leader alien caught Space Ranger in the chest, sending him staggering back roughly against the metal shelf. Striking his back against the shelf, Space Ranger grunted in pain and fell to his knees. The three aliens raised their weapons, preparing to strike their arch-foe down. Unseen by all, on one of the higher shelves, one of the boxes burst open, and a six inch, deluxe, Showcase, collectors’ edition Space Ranger leapt off the shelf. It landed amongst the combatants, scattering the aliens, like bowling pins. It then picked two of the Gordanians up and knocked their heads together, before tossing them aside and going to help his five-inch version to its feet. “Well, looks like you guessed right,” The larger Space Ranger said, grabbing the remaining toy alien and twisted its head until it popped off. Inside was a mass of micro-circuitry. The smaller Space Ranger tossed aside his helmet and began to peel off his costume, revealing the diminutive form of the Atom! After pulling up his cowl, he caught the plastic head the larger Space Ranger tossed to him and peered thoughtfully inside. “Well, it was just a matter of applied logic, Darrel,” The Atom said, not looking up. “Once I realized there was no way for the gang to break into so many varied establishments, I used some special scanners to look for unusual energy signatures…my first thought was teleportation might be involved.” “Instead, you picked up radio signals that implied some kind of remote-control device was being used,” The larger man nodded, thoughtfully stroking his chin. Almost absently, he kicked the remaining alien toy, as it attempted to crawl up to him. The kick sent the thuggish action figure down the aisle. It came to a hard stop when it struck a tricycle. Like the Atom, the larger, shrunken hero shrugged out of his Space Ranger costume. Underneath it, he wore a blue leotard, that left his arms and legs bare, a red belt, boots and a short cape. Darrel Dane was generally known as a brilliant chemical research scientist, but few knew that his research had allowed him to create a formula that transformed him into the original size-changing crime fighter, Doll man! The two heroes studied the inner workings of the plastic alien, keeping half an eye on its battered teammates. “Can you trace the signal?” Doll man asked, peering over the Atom’s shoulder. “We beat the puppets, but what about the puppeteer?” The Atom peered up thoughtfully and was about to answer when his eyes went wide. “Yeah…uh, we may not be quite done with the “puppets” quite yet…!” He pointed upwards and Doll man titled his head to see what his fellow crimefighting was pointing at. On both sides of the aisle, several shelves up from the heroes, were roughly a dozen action figures: Gordanians on one side, Manhunter robots on the other. “I’ll try and hold them off while you figure out the gadget running them?” Doll man suggested, smacking his fist against his palm. “Damnit,” The Atom muttered. “If we take too long fighting these things, whoever is behind it is going to get away…!” Doll man took up a fighting stance, as the toys awkwardly began to climb down towards them. One of the toys, an over-sized deluxe Gordanian, standing a towering fifteen inches tall, landed with a thud, and began stomping towards the duo. “Really did not want to spend Christmas Eve getting punched in the face by a plastic lizard,” The Atom said, frantically adjusting the circuitry in the broken action figure. The evil action figures soon had them surrounded, and their massive leader struck his light-up battle staff on the tile floor and then pointed angrily at the two crimefighters. “Well, here we go!” Doll man said. Suddenly a hand, roughly the size of a manhole cover came down and swatted the toys away, sending them flying about the aisle and colliding with shelves and displays. “What the…?” Doll man muttered. The hand, attached to an arm, seven foot long, shot up, into the shadows of a higher shelf. A Myra Mason fashion doll, dressed in silver mini-dress, and accessory belt leapt down and struck a dramatic pose, brandishing her pink ray gun. “Hey boys, need a…” She started to say. “A hand…?” The Atom, interrupted. “Really?” “You are no fun, Ray Palmer.” “What is going on?” Doll man asked, looking from the Atom to the new arrival and back again. “Who is she?” “Seriously, Ray?” The doll chided. “You forgot you called me? A girl has feelings.” “You never got back to me,” The Atom replied. “Anyway, Darrel Dane, otherwise known as Doll man, meet, Elastic Girl…” “Rita Farr…!” Doll man exclaimed. “I saw you in “Guns of the Dragon!” “No autographs, please,” Elastic girl laughed, holstering her toy gun. “So, what now?” “I’ve got an idea,” The Atom said. Meanwhile, in a parked delivery van, in a dark, snowy parking lot, a garishly-clad figure sat, hunched over a control console. The Puppeteer wore a yellow bodysuit, with wide shoulder pads, a yellow helmet with plastic visor and matching gloves and boots. He was frantically adjusting controls. “What’s interfering with the signal…?” He muttered, angrily, under his breath. “I bet that idiot set the booster rely wrong. Hypno-raying people to get minions is good for the budget, but they can be so unreliable…! Never should’ve taken this job…stupid gambling debts…!” Suddenly the whole van shook and Puppeteer tumbled out of his chair. “What …?” He shouted, scrambling for the driver’s seat. He could see through the windshield that the van was now about five feet off the ground and at an angle. In a panic, he turned on the engine and stomped on the gas. The Puppeteer could hear the tires spinning, but it soon became obvious they were no longer in contact with the pavement. He hit the button for the control panel wielded to his dashboard, desperately hoping to contact either his toy or human minions to help him. “Just what I needed!” A voice said from the speaker grill, seconds before the Atom came flying out and struck the villain full on the jaw. The Puppeteer slumped in his chair. The Atom paced the dashboard, studying the equipment. He was soon able to shut off any and all controlled toys out there. Elastic girl, now fifty feet tall, put the van back on the ground and peeled back the roof. Doll man leapt from her shoulder, down to join the Atom. “So, we done?” He asked, peering absently at the unconscious villain. “Yeah, think so,” The Atom nodded. “I deactivated his toys and used my JLA communicator to call in the police. They can deal with the criminal Mastermind.” “Hey, look!” Rita exclaimed, shrinking down to normal size and leaning in through the passenger side window. “That diner is open. Anybody else want coffee?” “It’s Christmas Eve,” The Atom Reminded her. “Give me a minute to finish here and we’ll go see if they have eggnog.” HARLEY QUINN'S CLASSIC CHRISTMAS SPECIAL Featuring: Harley Quin by Patrick Moore!! Harley sat in her chair drinking her third cup of coco, while watching her tenth showing of a Charlie Brown Christmas off a DVD. “It's better than that Crapple + crap, since they took all the Peanuts specials to damn streaming and ruined my childhood,” she replied. “Like Michael Bay.” Just then, the DVD player began to act up messing up the movie. “Not now!” Harley frowned, as she took her bat and whacked the player. Charlie Brown screamed, as the screen went black. “Should had went down when I played the Star Wars Holiday Special,” Harley fumed. “That special is more worse than Jar Jar Binks.” The TV began to spark, as it blasted it Harley into the TV. “Please, don't turn me into Freakazoid!” Harley screamed, as she began to transform into something more classical. Harley woke up in a snowy landscape with a Christmas campy type music in the background. Harley looked at herself to find out that she has be turned into a stop motion animated character. “Hello, Harley Quinn,” the familiar face of Sam the Snowman appeared out of nowhere to greet Harley. “Welcome to Classic Christmas Special Land.” “At lease I'm not in a episode of Robot Chicken,” Harley replied. “Look, Frosty, I need to get out of Fantasy Island and back to my parents' house.” “I'm not Frosty,” replied Sam, as he pointed to a snowman wearing a top hat belly flopping downhill with a little girl named Karen. “That's Frosty.” “What's going on here, Sam?” Herbie the Elf walks in. “Who's this new Christmas character?” Harley looked like a fangirl after seeing Herbie. “OMG! It's Herbie the Elf!” “You were expecting Bilbo Baggins?” Herbie said in a cynical tone. “How's Rudolph?” Harley asked. “And Yukon Cornelius?” “They're fine,” replied Herbie. “I even gotten into dentistry.” Harley turns to see The Bumble, The Grinch, and Burgermister Misterburger throwing snowballs at each other and smiling. She could even see Kubla Klaus making snow angels. “Even the Christmas villains can have a great time on Christmas,” Harley looked on. “This is a land for classic Christmas cartoon specials after all,” spoke Sam. Harley even spotted Charlie Brown and the rest of the Peanuts Gang around the little Christmas tree singing Peace on Earth. Harley began to tear up after seeing all her childhood friends together for the first time, as she felt something slowly shaking her.... “Wake up, Harleen,” the voice of Harley's mother spoke, as Harley woke up. “I had to get another DVD player, after a certain someone broke it with a bat.” “Sorry about that, Mom,” Harley apologized. “I had this strange dream I was in this cartoon world where all the iconic Christmas cartoon characters lived, like Herbie the Elf, and The Grinch.” “That's nice, dear,” Mrs. Quinzel replied. “I even stopped and got the complete DVD set of Peanuts specials, and maybe we can watch A Garfield Christmas tonight after diner.” Harley paused then smirked. “Maybe we can do something different and watch Die Hard on Christmas.” Mrs. Quinzel looked at Harley's puppy dog face and smiled, as she hugged her. Outside, the various Christmas cartoon characters began to sing Joy to the World, as the Adam West Batman is seen in Heaven doing the Batusi. THE END Note: So, I wanted to do a Christmas comedy with Harley Quinn meeting iconic Christmas cartoon characters, and even make fun of the crap that was the Star Wars Holiday Special. Even adding Adam West Batman in the end was priceless, as I wanted to do a short but sweet nod to the Rankin/Bass specials without using fart joke and usual superhero ways. I thank you. |