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Iron Nuts and other Misfit Heroes.

Submitted by AllyJeans at 2006-03-31 19:55:04 EST
Rating: 1.83 on 22 ratings (22 reviews) (Review this item) (V)

“Here, here, this is a meeting of the Confederation of World Superheroes, your president Homme Du Monde presiding.

“Welcome to the Hilton hotel. I’m glad that all of you could find time in your schedules to make it here. Usually our get-togethers are light and agreeable, but today’s meeting will be much more serious. I’m afraid the day has come for the dismissal of a number of outdated, and/or ill conceived superheroes.”

The assembly was stunned. A general rumble began to course its way through the crowd before erupting into a torrent of protests. Electricity crisscrossed over the top of the heroes’ heads, before connecting with a chandelier. The resulting explosion of glass and metal barely caught anyone’s attention.

“Settle down. Settle down. I know it has come as quite a shock to most of you, but it has to be done. It would be ridiculous to continue as we are now. There are superheroes that have no discernable power except the ability to waste our resources and harm our reputations—superheroes that walk the streets with baseball bats and balloon titties.

“Also, there are a number of heroes with genuine abilities that pose as a danger to themselves and others. Whether you like it or not, this will happen. You can accept that now and move on, or deal with the guard.”

Thermal Wind soared up to the ceiling and flashed the president. Cold Fury seized him and brought him back to his seat.

“Well, I guess we should get to business.”

“Iron Nuts! Rise!”

Iron Nuts stood up, his back arched from the weight of his burden.

“It says here that you gained your powers after you refused to pay a prostitute for services rendered. Her Pimp, a Mr. Tino Alvarez, then took you to an iron works and dipped your genitals in a mold for doorknockers. Is this correct?”

“I don’t have to tell you shit, dickcheese.” Iron Nuts crossed his arms and rested on the back of Scintillating’s seat. She leaned forward.

Du Monde sighed. “Ok, let’s keep it simple. How do your abilities aid you in battle? You can tell me that, can’t you?”

Iron Nuts looked around. “Isn’t it obvious?”

“Not to me.”

Iron Nuts grabbed his crotch. “Bad guys can’t kick me in the balls. It gives me an advantage in fights!”

Du monde put on his glasses. “I see. And how many times have you been hospitalized in the last year?”

“I don’t know…a few.”

“It says here that you’ve been to the emergency ward no less than 24 times, with injuries to your face, arms, torso, and legs. It seems the criminal element is circumventing your defenses. In other words, they don’t have to kick your balls to kick your ass.”

Iron Nuts frowned. “Blow me.”

“Thank you, Iron Nuts; I’ll take that under advisement. Would you gentlemen escort him out?”

Cold fury and Thunderstorm swooped down to Iron Nuts’ right and left side and guided him to the door.

After the buzz from his exit died down, Du Monde resumed. “All right. Next is Lady ‘Pon…”

Marley Marvelous jumped up. “But she’s dead! You can’t take someone’s title after they’re dead.”

“Let me finish, Marley.” She sat back down. “Last Saturday the great Lady ‘Pon lost her battle with Toxic Shock Syndrome. This isn’t about her, as much as it’s about those who’d want to take her place.

“As you know, we’d normally elect a replacement. This time, however, we’ve decided against it. In the last 30 years we’ve lost 83 Lady ‘Pons—all to Toxic Shock Syndrome. The advantages that come with having a hero capable of aiding women on their heavy flow days, doesn’t justify the loss of life. From now on, women will have to learn how to go to the fucking store and buy that shit for themselves.”

The men applauded. The women booed. Marley Marvelous stood up. “I take offense to that. Lady P. helped me out plenty of times!”

Water Wings chuckled. “And Marvelous definitely needed it, I’m sure. I heard that when she flies through the sky she leaves a crimson contrail!”

“You asshole!”

“Pay her $350 and she’ll draw a heart in the clouds for Valentine’s day.”

Marley turned and shot a fireball at Water Wings, who dissipated it with his breath.

“Stop it!” The president raised his fist and the room shook. “We will have no fighting in here!”

Marley scowled and returned to her seat. Water Wings blew her a kiss that hit her in the back of the head. Her arm started to tense, but she looked at the president and relaxed it.

“Let’s continue, please. Will Grumpy Bear come up to the podium.”

The diminutive Care Bear hopped off his seat and waddled to the front. “Figures.”

“What was that?”

Grumpy shook his head. “Nothing.”

Du Monde held up his file. “You’ve been around since the 1980s, is that right.”


“And you live in Care-a-lot?”

Grumpy nodded. “Yes.”

“And you’re a Virgo, right?”

“Jesus, are you getting somewhere with this?”

“Just one more question. Have you ever been in a good mood?”

“Are you an idiot? I’m Grumpy Bear!.” He pounded his paws on his furry chest. “If I was in a good mood I’d be called “Good mood Bear,” and considering that all those other fuckers are happy all the goddamn time, that’d be pretty fucking redundant.”

“So you admit that you have a sour disposition?”

“Who gives a shit?”

Du Monde nodded. “Thank you, you can go now.”

“What, so you’re getting rid of me because I’m not happy? What a crock!”

“That’s right.” Du monde shook his head. “You’re a major downer. Every time we have a superhero picnic, you traipse along complaining about your bullshit life until everyone is nearly as miserable as you.”

“So when is that a crime? I don’t see you doing anything about Oscar the Grouch!”

Oscar rose out of his garbage can in the third row. “Don’t bring me into all of this.”

Grumpy looked over his shoulder. “You chicken sh…!”

“Grumpy!” Du Monde raised his finger. “Oscar can make people laugh. He’s cynical, not grumpy.”

“He’s called, “the Grouch,” you dimwitted asshole!”

“I think I’ve had quite enough of this. You may go.”

Grumpy Bear displayed an obscene gesture and waddled out of the room. The other Care Bears filed out in happy protest.

“Ok.” Du Monde took a deep breath and tried to get himself together .“Next under review is Monkey Masturbator.”

There was a smattering of applause. Monkey Masturbator was never a favorite. In fact, nearly everyone disliked him.

Du Monde called again. “Monkey Masturbator!”

No one stood. After a time, a lone voice shouted from the back. “He’s not here!”

Du Monde leaned on the podium. “Who are you?”

“I’m Tom. I’m his roommate.”

Du Monde rolled his eyes. “Where is Mr. Masturbator?”

“He said he had something to do in Fresno. He gave me his ticket and said that you guys had free beer. I would have come anyway. This is kickass.”

“I’m glad. Would you inform your roommate that he can no longer masturbate monkeys in the name of Confederation of Superheroes.”

Tom shrugged. “I don’t think he’ll care as long as he can keep doing it on the side. I don’t know how he does it, but he makes a lot of money with that jizz. He just bought this badass surround sound system after selling a gallon to some guy from Wonderland.”

Du Monde shook his head. “You probably mean Neverland.”

“Cool, whatever. All I know is that Saving Private Ryan sounds pissah in 5.1. Especially the scene where that dude is walking around holding his arm. It’s fricken awesome.

“That’s wonderful, Tom. You can sit now.”

Monkey Masturbator was always a source of amusement in the superhero community, but the addition of his roommate Tom, a man who was apparently a bigger idiot than Monkey Masturbator, was just too much. For the first time the heroes began laughing at the situation.

“Well. I guess there is only one more.” Du monde poured a glass of water and placed two aspirins on a napkin. After taking a deep breath, he called out:

“Would The Encourager please come forth.”

The assembled heroes froze. To many, the Encourager was the ultimate hero. He inspired children to go on to great things, and people down in their luck to dig themselves out. No one could understand why he was on the hit list.

Well, a few could.

Once his name was read, The Encourager rose without hesitation. He walked down the aisle with an air of confidence that radiated around him.

Du Monde shook his head. “Encourager I’ve heard some troubling news.”

The Encourager stood straight. “Yes, what is it?”

“Well, I’ve heard that you’ve gone from encouraging to instigating.”

“That isn’t true.” The Encourager flicked a speck of lint off his blue and white insignia.

“I heard that you told Zanfor that his wife was cheating on him and that ‘a real man would do something about it.’”

The Encourager shrugged. “I don’t see anything wrong with that.”

“Zanfor gave her a beard and used his powers to seal her vagina.”

“No he didn’t”

“Yes he did.”

“No he didn’t and I never spoke with him anyway.”

“Oh really, and I suppose that you didn’t tell a 6-year-old named, Joey Peterson that his sister killed his pet turtle and ate it.”

“I was doing a public service; too many turtle thieves get away with their crimes.”

“But she didn’t eat it! The turtle had crawled under his bed!”

“She could have eaten it.”

“But she didn’t!” Du Monde was beside himself. “And he ended up eating her goldfish to get revenge.”

“Says you.”

Cyclodon rose. “I think I can explain, Mr. President.”

An exasperated Du Monde waived him forward. “Please do Cyclodon.”

“Over the past three weeks….” Cyclodon cleared his throat. “Over the past three weeks I have seen the Encourager have numerous meetings with the evil menace, Pathological Liar.”

There was an audible hush in the room. The Encourager shook his head. “Not true.”

“I have pictures if you need proof, Mr. President.”

The Encourager laughed. “Photoshopped fantasies no doubt.”

“They are not!”

The Encourager leaned toward Rock Jaw. “Cyclodon has been stealing your newspapers.”

“I have not!”

“He does, and when he finishes reading them he takes a huge shit on the front page and lights in on fire.”

“That’s enough!” Du monde pounded his gavel. “Until further notice you are prohibited from using your powers Encourager. There will be an investigation into your misdeeds.”

The Encourager showed no emotion. He merely spun in his spot and marched out the door. The rest in attendance followed his exit with confused looks.

“Well, this has been an interesting day hasn’t it?” Du Monde started sorting his papers. “I can assure you that this will be the last time we will have to resort to such measures. Thank you for your patience. This meeting is adjourned.”

The heroes slowly got out of their seats and congregated at the exits. There wasn’t much talking. A few heroes walked through walls rather waiting in line, but other than that, it was uneventful.

When Du Monde finally left, all the other jet cars and invisible aircraft had left the hotel’s parking lot. All that remained was his Toyota Corolla.

When he approached the car, he was shocked to see that it had been vandalized. “Cocksucker” was keyed into the hood and doors, the windows were smashed in, and the side mirrors were ripped from the frame, apparently obliterated with a Care Bear stare.

He laid his briefcase on the hood and looked around. After seeing nothing, he finally gave up and entered his car.

As he drove away, tampons fluttered off his rear bumper.


Review This Item




Submitted by Brdn_Nkd at 2007-09-05 16:12:55 EDT (#)
Rating: 2

Submitted by Unabonger at 2006-06-07 11:57:41 EDT (#)
Rating: 2

We miss you come back.

Submitted by AllyJeans at 2006-06-06 19:23:20 EDT (#)
Rating: 0

I would, Yellow, but I've had a side project going on for a while now, and it is robbing me of all my creative oomph. I tried writing something just now--just for you :)--but I couldn't make any headway. I was stuck in a three sentence hell where my needling revisions were bordering on Sisyphean reduntancy. It took me an hour to break new ground, and when I did, I realized that I had lost any semblance of what I sat dow to write about; I was left with a pile of words that would look more interesting dipped in shit than written on a page.

Kind of like this little message right here.

If it means anything (and it probably doesn't) I'm not done here yet. It might be a few months, but I'll be back with something. Even if I have to tell the sordid tale of my first Three Stooges marathon.

Submitted by The_Yellow_Dart at 2006-06-04 18:45:48 EDT (#)
Rating: 2

What happened to that care-bear story? I haven't let my children sleep until I can find them a perfect bedtime story so naturally they've been up for months now and I fear they'll soon actually run out of energy and start to consider a lye down. Obviously I distroyed their beds and painted their rooms in neon colours and have had death metal playing non-stop, but one can only force so many caffiene pills and sugar shakes down the throats of their young before something doesn't seem quite right, y'know?

Please, for the sake of the children, their Latino nanny, and most importantly myself, post us a story of sorts. Anything that is suitable for putting a dog down and kids to bed.

Bladder The Bold

Submitted by The_taste_of_Monkeys at 2006-04-03 19:39:02 EDT (#)
Rating: 0

Submitted by jgreening (user info) at 2006-04-01 18:40:07 (#)
Ranking: 2

The hell you say you can't do that.

The people (see: me) DEMAND it!

Um, I'll bake cookies...
yeah but its not as though theyll even make it out of your kitchen, now will they fatman?

Submitted by JonnyX at 2006-04-03 19:24:55 EDT (#)
Rating: 2


Submitted by Average_Dan at 2006-04-03 00:00:03 EDT (#)
Rating: 1

Pretty good Ally.

Submitted by piowufbhwervnerfnc at 2006-04-01 18:40:07 EST (#)
Rating: 2

The hell you say you can't do that.

The people (see: me) DEMAND it!

Um, I'll bake cookies...

Submitted by AllyJeans at 2006-04-01 17:38:18 EST (#)
Rating: 0

Submitted by The_taste_of_Monkeys (user info) at 2006-04-01 16:23:42 (#)
Ranking: 2

Submitted by jgreening (user info) at 2006-04-01 02:32:54 (#)
Ranking: 2

The Encourager would make a KICK ASS series...


He was my favorite. His dismissal was earlier on in the story, but I moved him down so I could end with the best.

He was also my Monty Python hero, a combination of John Cleese and Eric Idle. I don't know if I could do a series on him, though. After a while I'd probably run out of ideas, and have him goad people into stealing hood ornaments and having spaghetti orgies.

Before long I'd descend into a pit of filth that I'd never escape. I can't let that happen.

I'm a good girl, I am!

Submitted by The_taste_of_Monkeys at 2006-04-01 16:23:42 EST (#)
Rating: 2

Submitted by jgreening (user info) at 2006-04-01 02:32:54 (#)
Ranking: 2

The Encourager would make a KICK ASS series...

Submitted by piowufbhwervnerfnc at 2006-04-01 02:32:54 EST (#)
Rating: 2

The Encourager would make a KICK ASS series...

Submitted by kaos-king at 2006-04-01 02:27:07 EST (#)
Rating: 2

Submitted by piowufbhwervnerfnc at 2006-04-01 01:50:07 EST (#)
Rating: 2

Oh holy shit...

I hurt now...

Submitted by pen_name at 2006-04-01 01:07:35 EST (#)
Rating: 2

christ, how do you come up with this shit?

Submitted by ghola at 2006-04-01 00:35:03 EST (#)
Rating: 2

o dear god.

Submitted by Stagger_Lee at 2006-03-31 23:04:53 EST (#)
Rating: 2

Pure gold.

Submitted by turkishblend at 2006-03-31 22:38:12 EST (#)
Rating: 2

Submitted by AllyJeans at 2006-03-31 20:37:04 EST (#)
Rating: 0

Awwwww. Hugs n' Tugs. They were so cute. They should have had their own show.

Submitted by The_Yellow_Dart at 2006-03-31 20:28:04 EST (#)
Rating: 2

Or that time champ was caught taking steriods and threatened to kill Hugs n' Tugs if they told anyone.

Submitted by Dead_0hi0_Sky at 2006-03-31 20:23:59 EST (#)
Rating: 2


Submitted by AllyJeans at 2006-03-31 20:15:47 EST (#)
Rating: 0

Like the Time Good Luck Bear tried to use his abilities to gamble. Man, those loan sharks beat the piss out of him.

Submitted by The_Yellow_Dart at 2006-03-31 20:13:43 EST (#)
Rating: 2

I didn't even realise how long this was until after I read it all.

Oh well, it's awesome.

Since you seem to know your care-bears, I think you should do a series of some sort of the mis-adventures of the care-bears. The times they stuck their noses into other people's problems that didn't turn out too well, or something along those lines.

When will I learn? The answers to life's problems aren't at the bottom of
a bottle. They're on TV!

-- Homer Simpson
There's No Disgrace Like Home