School House Road Beacon Harbor's first schoolhouse was located along a narrow dirt road that has grown, as the city has, to be a four lane thoroughfare. The original schoolhouse is still located along the north side of the road, the Beacon Harbor Preservation Society allowing tours between noon and four every weekend. The sprawling campus of Beacon Harbor University dominates most of the southern side of the street, then on for many acres southward. Known for its expert faculty, award winning programs and top notch development, it is the highlight of the academic growth of city and situated nicely across from the old schoolhouse. Dormitories and other student housing line the northern side of the street, as well as the occasional Fraternity or Sorority house. Junkyard is walking down the road, almost sauntering. He is attempting to whistle, but he is not very good at it. So instead he sings "I'm in the money" in a tone-deaf fashion. He casually flips through a bundle of money in one hand. (No more muggings for me! This is the REAL thing, here!) The revving of the Fury-Cycle is loud and obnoxious... and occasionally loud bursts of smoke and loud booms come blasting out of the exhaust. The goggles are down, the hair is spiked up... and the rage is ready to go. Mr. Furious is ready to stop him some crime... but he's gotta find him some... The Bowler walks down the street, bowling bag held tightly in hand, a smirk on her face as she chats with someone. But there's no one else near her. That's just...odd. "No, I told you all ready. We're going to team up, and protect the city. Ok? Yes...you can help..." Spleen walks down the road, looking as though he's in a hurry. Hands in pockets and head down, he pays no attention to anyone he might pass on his way. Junkyard looks up at the sound of a motorcycle. In the money or not, he's still a scrap collector, and the thing barreling down on him can only be described as, well, scrap. He could probably use it to reinforce his fireplace. The fact that someone is currently riding it is only a minor detail. He approaches Furious, coughs, and says "Nice bike." Mr. Furious is preparing to pull out of his parking spot and roll on to victory and justice when he's approached by the filthy miscreant. "Not for sale, pal..." he grunts, noting the wad of cash the man is carrying. "Spend that on some soap and water... we need clean people on the streets..." The Bowler blinks and glances around. "Could've sworn I heard..." She hmms softly, shrugs, and goes back to walking. There's movement from inside the bag and she stops again, "What? Oh, I thought I heard it. Thanks." She begins to walk in the direction of Furious and Junkyard. Despite Spleen's best efforts at ignoring the world around him, there's no mistaking Junkyard's voice, nearby. And yeah, that's him--and even more, it's that motorcycle guy. Haven't seen *him* in a while. In any case, this doesn't look good, so as usual, Spleen heads in that direction. He may get injured a lot doing that but at least it makes life more interesting. Junkyard looks at the money he's holding. He'd forgotten he was holding it. He pockets it (considering how filthy he is, this probably counts as defacement of US currency) and draws himself up at Furious' response. "I don't give a skoj's ass about your streets." He crosses his arms. "And when did I offer to BUY it?" By the look of it, this guy is another one of those superheroes that Blake guy told him about. "It's not like you would have any choice in the matter." Mr. Furious's hands clench up on the handlebars... and his eyes narrow slowly behind his goggles. He turns his head slowly, his face tense and his lips slowly curling into a sneer. With an orchestral rise of ominous music that only he can hear, he glares at the scuzzball menacingly. "You threatenin' me, punk?" he growls... The Bowler frowns and unzips the bag, setting it down on the ground as she lifts that creepy-looking ball out of it. "I don't like the look of this," she mutters, idly glancing towards The Spleen. She waves quickly to him and hurries along, knowing that Roy's probably in more trouble than he can handle alone... Spleen already knows Roy's in trouble. And Carol might be too now--cool skullball or not. "Hey, hold up," he hisses at Bowler, hurrying after her. "That guy'sch a real pschyco..." He reaches Bowler's side as they approach Furious and Junkyard. Junkyard moves towards Mr. Furious, getting uncomfortably close. The only reason the various diseases floating around Junk haven't infected Roy is that they're too busy killing each other. "Yes." he breathes. "I am." The Bowler raises an eyebrow, giving Spleen one of her 'what the?' looks. "Psycho, huh? Great. That's all he needs," she says, nodding her head towards Roy who seems to be getting a little...ticked off. "Maybe we should go step in." The ball turns to stare at Junkyard, that humming noise it makes gradually becoming louder. Mr. Furious keeps his steely glare fixated on this guy. He's a filth-ridden animal. Disease that needs to be swept up and deposited safely in litter's place. "I suggest you back off, smunkie..." he snaps... not backing off at all... although there's some tiny voice in the back of his mind suggesting that screaming like a girl and running away is a good idea. "Before I decide to make some time to put a little sunshine in that bonnet of yours... and make a milkshake out of your kneecaps..." Spleen steps around Furious, to stand on the other side of the motorcycle. He's hoping Junkyard will notice him, and maybe he can talk the foreignor out of pummelling anyone. Well...it's a farfetched idea but there it is. Especially farfetched considering that Furious has already begun his spouting tirade. Junkyard gapes for a moment. Junkyard usually prides himself upon his skill with languages, and he'd gotten this "English" down pretty well, but the gibberish coming out of this man has him completely dumbfounded... He shakes his head, clearing away the confusion. He pokes his finger into Roy's chest. "Go ahead... and decide." The Bowler narrows her eyes. Sure, Roy might be one of the most annoying people in the world, but no one's gonna bother him while she's around. She pats the ball then lets it fly, the grinning orb o' death zipping right towards the other three. It stops on the other side of Roy's bike and just hovers there as Carol calmly wanders over to join it. Mr. Furious is zoned in on this miscreant... so he doesn't quite notice that Captain Stench (he hasn't caught his official codename yet) and Baby Bowler have shown up. "Decision granted, Sergeant Scuzz of the S.S. Gee Your Hair Smells Like Monkey Turds... you just messed with the WRONG enchilada, suckapunk..." He cracks his knuckles... although only a weak single pop is heard... Spleen obviously isn't going to be noticed this way-- OhMyGod the head is here...okay well, yeah, that's okay, the skullball is cool. He throws Bowler a "Well, shouldn't we do something?" sort of look. Junkyard doesn't notice the ball. Junk cracks his knuckles in response to Mr. Furious... it sounds like a 10-gun salute. He backs up a bit, gets into a solid stance, and makes a "come on" motion at Furious. The ball (Carmine to close friends) turns to look at Spleen with those unblinking eye-sockets of his. Boy..friendly sort, isn't he? After a few moments of staring at the poor guy the ball turns to face Junkyard. Carol, after giving the situation some thought, nods to Spleen. "Yeah...but let's just see what's going to happen first." She crosses her arms and goes to stand near Spleen, as Carmine slowly moves towards the big threatening guy. Mr. Furious cuts out the engine on his bike... kicking down the kickstand and dismounting, being sure to take the key out and place it in his pocket... deep. He starts to do a little neck-stretching and shoulder rolling, to warm up... but hearing Carol speak alerts him to his comrade's presence... and he glances between the two... YES. The trumpets blare in his mind again... and he smirks. "Boyoboy, Captain Stinks of the S.S.P.U. Did YOU pick the wrong pushover to push over... you just brought a whole box of Apple Jacks worth o' trouble... courtesy of..." He pauses a bit... going over the pages of potential group names he'd come up with in the last week or so... and he draws a blank, save for one... "Of... The Super Squad..." He grins mischievously.... Spleen is caught offguard by that one. He looks at Bowler, then at Furious, and back to Bowler...they have a superteam?? He inwardly kicks himself--he *knew* he should have been getting out more. Well, all the more reason not to idle about here, now. He goes around the motorcycle again, to stand behind Furious, albeit several paces back. If Mr. Furious needs any help with the Garbageman--and he probably will--at least he'll be here to...offer...something. Junkyard looks at Furious blankly. Right, he's identified this guy's powers... the ability to stall you from hurting him. Junk decides he's not going to fall for this trick, and grabs the motorcycle, lifting it over Mr. Furious. "That's IT! I can't stand this guy's babbling anymore! I'll have a headache for a week! You, however, will have a headache for, oh, about a second before headaches are the least of yer worries." He drops the bike on Roy. The Bowler blinks at Roy, shaking her head. "Um..the name needs work," she calls out as Carmine decides that he's tired of just 'standing' around. The ball zips towards Junkyard, aiming to clock him a good one in the forehead, as Carol gasps and jump back out of the way of the bike. "Hey! No one does that to my friends, you ignorant moron!" She lets out a growl that might scare someone, if they were drunk, and goes over to help out her teammates if they need her assistance. Mr. Furious widens his eyes as he... picks up his bike. Before he can sort out which particular blend of terror and fury he's feeling right now, his instincts actually serve him well enough to make his legs work and lunge him out of the way of the bike getting dropped onto the pavement... and he turns it into a barrell roll into a fighting crouch... "You just messed with the FURY CYCLE. Cardinal sin... especially when you're messing with... The Avenging League!" he attempts... somehow actually heeding Carol's side comment... or perhaps just not satisfied with it himself... Spleen jumps a couple of feet when the motorcycle comes crashing down. Yowch. Wondering again why he's here he makes another attempt to get Junk's attention. "Yo, Schanitaschion Man!" he yells. "Didn't your mom ever tell you it'sch not nische to break other people'sch toysch?" Of all the things Junkyard has been expecting, a flying bowling ball is not one of them. It SMACKS him across the forehead, sending him staggering. "What just hit me?" He shakes his head and spots what appears to be a floating skull barreling down at him for a return strike. He braces himself and... CATCHES it. Still a bit surprised, he inspects the humming skull he holds in his hands. "What the-" Carmine almost seems to smile, but he's dead. Dead things can't smile, right? He just patiently bides his time as Carol sneaks around, making sure Roy and Blake are ok. "C'mon guys," she whispers, "It's now or never! Dad'll keep him busy so we can counter-strike. Besides..." She turns and looks at Furious, "He just trashed your bike. Doesn't that make you angry?" Mr. Furious sneers a bit... still staring at the scuzzbag. "Makes me furious..." he responds to her in a growl, without looking... and he launches into a sprint, charging at the meanie and keeping low... aiming for a shoulderblock into the pelvic region... Spleen cringes. "I know thisch guy," he whispers to Bowler. "He'sch pretty tough. Think you guysch can take him?" There is a WHAM as Carmine comes to life (or at least unlife) and leaps out of Junk's hands and into his face. There is a CLANG as Mr. Furious connects with Junkyard's midsection, apparently coming into contact with one of the various pieces of scrap metal Junk carries around. Regardless, Junk staggers back from the pure surprise. He regards those in front of him... Wait, is that Blake? Can't be. Oh well, if it is, Junk will know once he's killed them all. He charges straight back at Furious, bringing his hand around as if swatting a fly... The Bowler nods to The Spleen, "Yeah. And if not, there's always the chance he'll die laughing at our pitiful attempts." Carmine instantly flies back towards Carol, who snatches him out of mid-air and turns around to glare at Junkyard. "Ok..Let's show this guy who we are!" There's a pause, "We really need a team name..." She leaps into the fight, swinging the ball back in one arm, then letting it fly towards Junkyard's stomach. Mr. Furious backs up a bit after the charge... his shoulder smarting a bit from hitting whatever metal he hit... hoping he hasn't run into Iron Balls McGinty here... that's what did Navin Johnson in... but he doesn't have time to wonder anymore as the sleaze charges him... so he tries to sidestep him and leap onto his back... but he's not counting on the swat... so the sidestep only lessens the hit he takes.. and it spins him around a bit... miraculously, he remains on his feet... but he's now slightly dizzy... Spleen hesitates. Darn, they're both too close to Junk just now...well, distractions are always needed. So, because its the only thing he can think of, he snatches up a rock from the side of the road and hurls it--he's always been a good shot with rocks, stems from his childhood--at Junk's nose. Junkyard finishes sending Furious spinning, and sees the ball coming for him this time. He kicks at it, sending it rebounding, and reflects on how very strange BH is. Here he is, happy after finally getting a job, and suddenly he finds himself fighting these... these... mystery men, or something, and now there is a rock bouncing off his nose. The rock shatters, but Junk sees where it came from. He leaps into the air, and tries to angle his descent towards Spleen... The Bowler gasps and makes a dive for the ball, catching it, but the impact sends her thudding to the ground. She skids a couple feet across the pavement and winces, but is back on her feet in the blink of an eye. "Ok," she coughs, "That hurt.." Her eyes narrow in slight discomfort as she glares at Junkyard. "Hey! You almost broke my ball! You're gonna pay for that, buddy!" Mr. Furious clears his head and makes a break for the stinkbomb, growling and sneering... feeling the rage take over... he's not just fighting for himself now... he's fighting for his team... and that fuels his fire. And he's attacking Captain Stench! He wasn't even notified about this! That's just not right... so he leaps at the Baron Von Dirty and tries to wrap his arms around his throat... Spleen sees the huge alien coming right at him. Augh, panic! Knowing he's going to likely be squashed any second, he whirls around to flee, stumbling to all-fours...There's a ripping sort of sound, and the long fringe at the bottom of Spleen's jacket billows out as Junkyard catches a blast of putrid air full-on in the face. Spleen tries to crawl out of harm's way, still on hands and knees. Junkyard is pretty much an immovable type, but in mid-air it's pretty hard to battle inertia. The blast of... well, the blast of stuff that I'd rather not go into propels him away from Spleen. The smell is so overpowering that Junk does not even notice the fellow clinging to his neck. (Almost smells like certain parts of home...) Junk wipes a tear from his eye as he is flipped over in midair and slams into the ground face-first. As he lays there, attempting to start breathing again, he notices that someone is on his back. He growls... The Bowler just...blinks, deciding that getting knocked flat might've been a blessing in disguise. Not wanting to get any closer than the situation calls for she lets Carmine take care of things, flinging him towards the downed Junkyard, hoping that her sometimes-grumpy father doesn't decide to hit Roy in the process. "Play nice now, dad! He's a friend!" Mr. Furious is a little surprised when his attempt to latch onto Baron Dirt is successful, but the blast that propels them backwards nearly knocks him straight off... something lets him hold on through the wild ride, and he grimaces as they land... feeling immensely nauseous and nasty... on the verge of vomiting... GOOD LORD, that's awful... but he's got a job to do... and he takes advantage of the situation as best he can, clawing his hands into Baron Dirt's face and trying to find a painful way to stretch his skin so he gives up... and he accidentally jabs the big man in the eye... Spleen figures he's made good his escape this time, and gets shakily to his feet and turns around. To his surprise, his attack seems to have immobillized Junkyard, although he was so sure it wouldn't be effective on the big guy...But that growl doesn't sound good. And Furious is still--oh, whoops. He's going to have to apologize later. Junkyard winces as Furious pokes one of his rather sensitive eyes. Time to scrape this bug off. He braces his hands and feet against the ground, trying to seek purchase on the asphalt, and leaps. He only manages about 2 stories, since he's jumping from an awkward position, but this seems high enough for him. As he begins to fall back down, he yells: "Can you fly Mr. Freak? Can you FLY?" Carmine gives chase to Junkyard, followed by his usual humming sound. Seems like he's either ignoring Carol or could just care less about the guy clinging to his opponent's back. Carol shakes her head and wanders over to Spleen, nose wrinkling up but she tries not to show her discomfort. "Nice, um...shot." Mr. Furious rolls his eyes... this sudden rush of equilibrium, combined with the lingering effects of Spleen's blast... it all just does him in... and as he clings to Baron Dirt for dear life... that peanut butter and mayonnaise hoagie he had for lunch comes right up... directly onto Baron Dirt's head... his brain is reeling from this.. and all he can do is hope Baron Dirt absorbs the impact... Spleen wrenches his gaze from Junk and Furious and blinks at Bowler in some surprise. "What? Oh uh...um...yeah. I mean, thanksch." Wow, noone's ever said *that* before. Encouraged, he grins at Bowler. "Letsch dogpile him when he comesch down," he announces eagerly, taking a few anticipatory steps forward. Junkyard is not sure exactly what happens. First, something rather yicky seems to get into his already filthy hair. Then, a rather uncomfortable impact in the stomach makes Junk want to lose HIS lunch. Then the ground says hello. Happy landings! After the dust clears, Junk is lying face first on the ground. He doesn't appear to be moving. The Bowler smirks and does a few stretches, idly keeping an eye on Carmine. "Sure. But...if you're gonna do something like that again make sure you warn me.." At the sound of an impact she turns, eyes wide at the situation. "Dad!" Before she knows what she's doing Carol runs towards Junkyard, looking majorly ticked and aiming a heel at his face. "What'd you do, you reeking pile of trash?!" Junkyard says "Uuuughhh..." Mr. Furious feels absolutely miserable after that impact... and he can't help but roll off of Baron Dirt... a stringy bit of vomit still connecting his lips with his head for a moment.. before he rolls far enough away to break it... and, of course, he vomited while FALLING... so the view through his goggles is hardly clear at the moment... he's just thankful he's wearing them at all... his face is a mess... and he's glad he's on a team as good as The Furious Three...maybe they can hold him off while he recovers... oh, dear.. he's dripping a lot... Spleen leaps to Furious' side. Putting his arms gingerly around Furious' ribcage, Spleen tries to carefully pull him to his feet. "Ohmygod, I'm schorry," he babbles. "I'm really really schorry. I panicked. Thisch isch my fault. I hate when thisch happensch..." He carries on in this way as he tries to balance Furious upright until he can get his own bearings. Junkyard reaches an arm under himself, and pulls something out. It looks like a rather complicated little piece of scrap metal. His fingers flick some kind of switch, and a flame appears. This flame lights a fuse, which begins to burn down... The Bowler continues her angry assault on Junkyard, probably not even doing any damage but it's worth a shot. Her ears catch the sound of the click of a lighter and she gasps, "No!" With all the strength she has (which isn't much), she attempts to shove the big guy away from where she guesses Carmine to be. Namely: smashed into the ground under Junkyard. Mr. Furious staggers to his feet... Captain Stench's words seeping into his clouded mind... and he tears his goggles off... the sight of something other than puke helps him stop thinking about it... "Duh... don't worry about me..." he coughs... "Stop HIM..." he says, still not solid enough on his legs to make a move to kick that bomb away... but gesturing wildly enough to direct Stench that way... Spleen hasn't heard the lighter or anything, but sees Bowler's panic. Knowing her dad's under the big guy somewhere, he obligingly releases Furious and hurries over to where Junkyard lies, and, putting all his weight into it, tries to help Bowler roll Junk over, at least far enough to rescue Carmine. The fuse gets shorter and shorter. A chuckle emanates from Junkyard. The Bowler grits her teeth, putting her back into the effort of moving Junk. "We..gotta...move...him..!!" There's movement from under him, and a soft humming sound. Carmine, being the devil he is, is trying his darndest to get out from under the big lummox. Carol glances over at Spleen, a look of mild defeat on her face. "Dad'll be ok, but we won't be!" She grabs his arm and tugs him away, frowning. Mr. Furious finally wakes up a bit... seeing the situation... and he runs up to them... trying to shove them along... "Quick, we don't know how big that boom is gonna be!" he shouts... "No loitering!" This hurts to do... but it has to be done... he's got to save them.... "HURRY!" Spleen blinks in confusion...boom? But he follows everyone's lead and sprints away from Junk as fast as he can go...which is pretty fast. Like many others, he's had plenty of experience at Running Like Heck. Junkyard is engulfed in the resulting explosion. It's mostly localized to a few feet around him, and when the smoke clears, he is standing up. Junk is covered in soot, but the explosion seems to have made him somehow cleaner (the mess on the back of his head has been blown clear off.) He grins, his white teeth contrasting with his coal- black skin. "Nothing like a little explosion to perk you up! Now where'd they run off to..." The Bowler gahs and looks behind her, only to spot a charred, cracked Carmine following a few feet away. A smile crosses her face as she continues to run, "Guys..I think we should get out of here. He's not going to be too happy..." Mr. Furious nods, glancing back... REALLY not wanting to leave his bike to him... but it's pretty well busted up now... it's gonna take a while to soupe up another one at the junkyard... but he doesn't have the energy to get furious right now. "I agree..." He koffs out a weak "Trifecta Tribe... retreat!" as he runs with them... [Unfortunately I then had to log off for work. :P But we sorta won...um, right? I mean, any battle you can walk--er, flee in terror from is a good battle, isn't it? ;) Here is the continued log, courtesy of Junkyard:] The Bowler shakes her head. "Furious...we need to talk about these names you keep coming up with..." She grabs the bag as she dashes by, holding it up so Carmine can return to the comfort of his portable home. Junkyard sees a few figures running away. Wow... they run pretty fast. One's already totally out of sight. Junk figures he's not going to catch up to them, but yells: "If you mystery men show your faces around me again, you're skoj-meat!" Mr. Furious shakes his head to her... still running with her. "C'mon... I just yakked up my guts... my head's not on straight..." he says, with surprisingly little of his general bravado apparent at all... he wipes his mouth a bit... feeling awful... The Bowler hmms and nods, glancing back to make sure Junkyard's not following. "I'll let you slide, this time," she says with a hint of a joke in her voice. Upon hearing the villian's words, a thought comes to mind. "Mystery men..." Carol looks towards Roy, "Doesn't sound half-bad, does it?" Junkyard fumes. Oh well, they're not really his worry. He really should get back to finishing that stuff he was building... he leaps off towards the junkyard. Mr. Furious glances back, too, after they round a corner... stopping to catch his breath... putting a hand against the wall and leaning over... spitting up a little more... vomiting on the job is a MAJOR faux pas... he looks up at her for a moment after she says that... "Are you KIDDING? You're gonna let that bastard name our team?" he asks, indignantly... The Bowler keeps a slight distance from Roy. Watching people spit up is not her idea of quality entertainment. "It's better than some of the crap you were coming up with. I mean... 'The Avenging League'? That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard!" Mr. Furious grunts a little.. wishing he had more strength to argue this point. "Look... I got about twenty-five pages at home with possibilities... I'm not gonna let that bag of crud give us our name... just isn't right..." he says, still breathing hard... trying to recover... The Bowler frowns and crosses her arms, starting to walk off. "And I bet it's twenty-five pages of pure, idiotic crap," she mutters. "Anyways, no one said it had to be a permanent name! Be more open to suggestions, before you pop a blood vessel every time someone suggests a new thing. Geez." Mr. Furious hocks an unpleasant loogie onto the pavement... before looking up at her again. "If anybody on the TEAM suggests something, I'm fine..." he says, his bravado off at the moment and the more genuine annoyed Roy flashing to the surface. "But jeez, look at that guy! I don't wanna think of that thing every time we go into battle, do you? Does your dad?" he says, as the taste of peanut butter and reflux threatens to make him sicker... The Bowler unzips the bag and glances into it, mumbling softly. After a few moments she looks back up at Roy, "But it would remind us of the battle we almost won. If we wouldn't have ran off, that is..." She manages a slight smile. "And it wouldn't be a permanent name. Just something to call us three.." The bag shakes. "Four, until we find something better." Mr. Furious leans his back up against the wall, rubbing his eyes to clear them. "We only ran because we thought he was a maniac trying to kill himself with a bomb... we didn't LOSE..." he qualifies... his head still swimming a bit. "What's wrong with Super Squad?" he says, almost meekly... The Bowler blinks, right eyebrow raising. "Super Squad sounds like a name off of a really cheesy cartoon," she replies, stopping to turn around and look at him. "It's just dumb." Mr. Furious is running Mystery Men through his head... not wanting to admit that it does have an interesting ring to it... "But... but you're not even a MAN... isn't that gonna bug your PC sensibilities or something?" he smirks... also not wanting to reveal his feelings are hurt.... The Bowler wanders back towards Roy as she shakes her head. "No. I'm not one of those angsty chicks who complain about every little thing that bugs them about society." She hrms, "Besides. We -are- a mystery. To the public, at least. They have no idea who we are." Mr. Furious swallows down some bitter taste. "Yeah... and maybe if they think we're all guys... it'll throw our enemies off when you show up..." he says, starting to come around a bit... The Bowler nods. "That's the spirit. See, how many bad guys expect girls with psychotic bowling balls to come leaping into battle? Most likely none. It'd be a tactical advantage." Mr. Furious glances to her... knowing that if he was feeling stronger right now, he'd argue with her until she saw his side... but he's feeling agreeable at the moment. "Well... we'll have to speak with Blake about it... and he needs to get a codename... and we need a headquarters... and I need a new bike..." he grumbles... glancing back out towards the battle scene... The Bowler laughs softly. "Calm down there. Everything will fall into place. You just have to be...patient." She brushes a piece of her bangs out of her face and hrms, glancing around. "Hey...we just defeated a villian without major damage to any of the surrounding area. I'd like to see one of those 'super' heroes do that!" Mr. Furious looks out at the battle scene itself... and he sees his bike remains on the street... the bastard didn't take it... and it perks him up a bit. "Damn right..." he says, offering up a rather messy hand for a high-five... "Yeah..." The Bowler blinks at the offered hand and takes a step back. "Um...no. I'll pass." She does however, smile at Roy, something that'll probably only happen once a century. "We work together as a team. Our abilities, along with...whatever Blake has, seem to balance out nicely." She hmms, "But..with some of the more powerful villians lurking about, we might need more members." Mr. Furious nods... "Yeah... maybe we can have some tryouts or something..." he mutters, looking at his hand and knowing why it was refused... wiping it along the wall. Being reminded of Blake's power makes him cross his eyes briefly... but he only wavers slightly. "We'll need to train, too... c'mon... let's see if we can get my bike back together..." * * * I posted this to the Reports Board the next day: * * * The following story aired on the 6:00 news Monday, right after the tear-jerking story of an orphaned prariedog: Becky Beaner stands on School House Road, as usual attired in flaming red and beaming into the camera. Behind her a construction crew works on the busted-up pavement. Becky: I am on the scene of what, according to a few witnesses, was a relatively small skirmish that took place less than an hour ago. It seems that the new meta known simply as 'Junkyard' attacked three as-yet unidentified persons, leaving the street gouged and blackened. Several witnesses have claimed there were explosives used, one insisting that a methane bomb was dropped by one of the unknown persons. Camera pans over the destruction. For Beacon Harbor, it is extremely minor--the main thing is a man-shaped depression in the middle of the street, with a spherical, deeper depression in the area of the figure's stomach. The pavement all around is charred and blackened. Becky: While Junkyard seems to have vacated the scene with no injuries, police are seeking the other three people for questioning. Found at the scene was part of a dilapitated, half-smashed motorcycle. Police are working on tracing its owner, who was described by witnesses as "disheveled and paranoid-looking." The second person was described as a woman with black-and-green striped hair who threw some sort of skull-like object encased in plastic. The last person was described as wearing a hideous, checkered, multicolored jacket that "would make a kaleidoscope cry". If you have any information leading to these people's whereabouts, please contact your local police. This is Becky Beaner, for KLT News, Channel 15. Thanks to Junkyard, Mr. Furious, and Bowler for the scene, which probably took us all by surprise. ;) --Spleen