[Episode 9] Thanksgiving Doom: Extra-Man Threatens Innocent Billionaire

Interesting Fact: Pumpkins are psychic. Dr. Jackol Antern first discovered this in 4482, Universe 6, but it has since been corroborated among scientists across the multiverse. All pumpkins larger than a humanoid thumb are psychic.

Botanists have yet to discover why pumpkins develop psychic abilities, especially given the utter normality of the vines themselves. The most popular theory suggests the psychic powers are used to deter predators. Pumpkins do not naturally ripen into various shades of orange, instead they project colors onto weak minds, potentially hoping the bright colors will make them seem dangerous. This has not stopped the annual pumpkin massacre, where pumpkins are mercilessly slaughtered, disemboweled, and baked into pies. To suppress pumpkin rebellion, many humanoids now decorate their porches with the hollow, desecrated corpses of former pumpkin leaders.

Mito, Dolly, and Rob accidentally switch assignments with the Epic Battle Announcers. While the three reporters are eager to go ahead with the interview Extra-Man has a few qualms.

Announcer: Welcome to the Crack – the wound between worlds, the rift amongst the stars, the only news network that brings you every story from every reality. You're watching, the CBW Channel.

Dolly: Welcome to the Crack! I'm Dolly and this is our resident studmuffin, Rob Skythrust! How are you doing, Rob?

Rob: Hi, Dolly. It's great to see you alive and well. I'm feeling amazing. There's something about near-death experiences that makes the world seem more vivid. The purple sky is bright and shimmery, the strike-breaking pigeons are cooing, and I'm ready to take on the world.

Dolly: I think it's the medicinal mud spa. I know we only visited the Glundark hospital to get treatment for radiation sickness, but I feel completely rejuvenated. Just look at Mito. Her skin is soft and glowing, but not in a way that suggests irradiation. Viewers, make sure you have your psychic receptors tuned into the broadcast so you can see the flawless skin of our favorite lead reporter.

Dolly: I thought for sure that would work.

Rob: Don't be ridiculous, Dolly. Mito isn't vain. She's not like other girls. Before we move on to our story, I want to publicly thank Mito for saving me and Dolly from certain death. In only a few hours, Mito managed to fix the sparkly top hat and transport us to a fantastic hospital. If she wasn't so smart and inventive, we would've died in that nuclear wasteland.

Dolly: You're laying it on a little thick.

Mito: For the last time, I'm fine. Let's just do the stupid broadcast.

Dolly: Our dear Mito doesn't actually think our next story is stupid. She's just disappointed that Mr. Stanton wouldn't let us return to the site of Dr. Ravenwood's death.

Mito: You saw him too. Dr. Ravenwood is alive, or at least partially not-dead. I need answers. If we travel back to the place where that nanite swarm attacked, maybe we can find clues. We can call it a memorial episode.

Rob: Does the CBW network do memorial episodes?

Dolly: I don't think so, sugar.

Mito: Whatever happened to 'no man left behind?'

Rob: I might be a rookie reporter, but I'm pretty sure that's not our policy.

Mito: Fine. Whatever. Forget all about Dr. Ravenwood. It's not like his inventions make inter-dimensional travel way safer. Oh. Wait. Before he invented the metaphysical shock absorbers, people had a 6% chance of turning into goo every time they switched universes. It's not like Dr. Ravenwood rewrote the time traveler protocols. Oh, shoot. I just remembered. He did that too.

Dolly: He was a very impressive man, dear. No one is disputing that. I'd love to go visit the site of Dr. Ravenwood's death, but we're reporters, not forensic detectives.

Mito: No one understands.

Mito: I raise my hand in the general direction of the vivid violet sky and adjust my silver, shiny lead reporter top hat. In an instant, we materialize in a new world.

Rob: There's a brisk, chill in the air and a blue sky up above it. I love blue skies. I never knew how much the sky impacted a planet's flavor until I started traveling the multiverse. If it was up to me, every world would have a blue sky.

Mito: The color of the sky is dependent on the gases in the atmosphere and the landforms beneath it. If every sky was blue, this job would be boring.

Dolly: As my companions bicker, I eye the cornflower blue sky. The two yellow suns gaze back at me like an uneasy cat. It's a pretty world, I'll swear to that, but the sprawling metropolis below us it too clean. We're on the roof of a tall building. It's not quite a skyscraper, but it's certainly gunning for the position.

Mito: I set the sparkly navigation shoes on the ground, then wrap the leash around my hand. They might be useful, but I will never wear them again. I don't care if Mr. Stanton doesn't like it. If Dr. Ravenwood were here, he'd say a flexible perspective is a marker of intelligence.

Rob: Mito clicks the heels together, and the sparkly, silver shoes wake up.

Mito: Wake up?

Rob: They're prancing around like excited puppies. How else would you describe it?

Dolly: The shoes tap excitedly as they spin. Goodness, they're tangling themselves in the leash. I had a dog that always did that. Itty bitty beagle. I've never much liked dogs, but he was alright.

Mito: You definitely seem like a cat person.

Dolly: Ravens, actually. They're the best pets in the world.

Rob: Despite my attempts to untangle the leash, the shoes have yet to stop spinning. Maybe they're confused? I don't really understand how this technology works, but I guess the altitude could be messing them up. Should we try again on the street?

Mito: Dr. Ravenwood could've fixed it.

Dolly: That sounded like a yes to me. Goodness gracious! I'll be darned. Are y'all seeing what I'm seeing?

Rob: Viewers, make sure your psychic receptors are tuned into our broadcast. I don't think description will do it justice.

Mito: It's a flying man. This is hardly a unique sight. He's a humanoid. I'd guess he's about six foot five, but it's difficult to tell with all the zooming about.

Rob: Mito, you're taking all the fun out of this.

Dolly: My oh my. Look at that hunk of sexy man meat.

Mito: The humanoid is flying around the city in a pattern I often see among dragonflies and yellow jackets. Clearly, he's hunting. We're too high up to see the reaction of the other, non-flying inhabitants of this city, but I refuse to take chances.

Mito: Let's hurry.

Rob: I think he just stopped a robbery. He has some kind of a symbol on that big cape of his. Do you think he's some kind of an air cop?

Mito: Move your feet, Rob. We don't know what he eats.

Dolly: He can eat me any day.

Mito: As my companions toss their common sense off the ledge of this high office building, I look for a way off this roof. There is only one door, and it appears to be stuck. We are trapped, trapped on this roof. Doomed to perish beneath the uncaring sons. As I slide to my knees, I consider my regrets. There aren't many. I'm a fantastic person. Why do the good always die young?

Extra-man: The dramatics are unnecessary.

Mito: [screech]

Mito: How'd you get up here so fast?

Extra-man: Supersonic flight.

Rob: Why do I hear inspiring music every time you talk?

Extra-man: Super-confidence

Dolly: Not that I'm mad I'm seeing all this skintight latex in person, but how did you know we'd be up here? You don't look like any wizard I've seen.

Extra-man: Super-hearing.

Dolly: That's a lot of super. What are you, some kind of soup or salad man? Hehe. I'm just too funny.

Extra-man: My name is extra-man. I'm a regular human, just with a few extra powers. Are you the reporters from the Crack Between Worlds?

Mito: Mito'ca'hondria. Lead reporter on the CBW Channel.

Dolly: I'm Dolly, sugar, but you can call me anything you like.

Rob: Rob Skythrust.

Extra-man: That's unfortunate. When I was contacted about an interview, I was led to believe I would be meeting with two reporters. The Epic Battle Announcers, I believe that's what they called themselves. Are you familiar with Fern and Kragen Hunt?

Mito: I trade glances with my fellow reporters. We are definitely not the Epic Battle Announcers, but Extra-man doesn't need to know that.

Rob: Extra-man is standing right there.

Mito: He just said he had super-hearing. He probably overhears a lot of things he isn't meant to. I'm sure Extra-man is used to pretending he wasn't listening.

Dolly: Oh, sugar. That's terrible. I thought super-hearing sounded great at first, but you must've known all about your parents' sex life when you were still an itty bitty thing.

Dolly: Extra-man gives me a look, clearly traumatized by memories of his parents' active and vigorous love life.

Extra-man: That was not the look I was giving you, Dolly. I'm happy to help you three down from the roof, but I'd really rather give my interview to the Epic Battle Announcers.

Mito: They're dead.

Extra-man: I doubt it.

Mito: Time travel is tricky. Technically, all time travelers are simaltaneously, dead, alive, and unborn until you can see them with your own eyes. We're like Schrodinger's cat.

Dolly: I don't think that's what Schrodinger meant, but I've never much liked thought experiments.

Rob: What Mito means to say, is that they're busy. I'm fairly sure we've swapped assignments. They're probably meeting with the marsh faeries we were supposed to interview.

Dolly: Exactly. It's not our fault. It's Mr. Stanton's fault.

Extra-man: I'd still prefer to wait for the professionals. They narrated my last triumph over alien invaders, so I feel they're more equipped to conduct this interview.

Dolly: You wouldn't make a little old lady return home empty-handed. Oh, heaven help us. It'll be the pink slip for me. I don't know what I'll do. Reporters don't get a pension in the Crack Between Worlds.

Extra-man: Fine. You can interview me, but be quick. My arch-nemesis, Al Alan, is planning something awful. I can feel it.

Dolly: You share a psychic connection with your enemy? My, oh my! That sounds like the premise of one of my bodice rippers.

Extra-man: No, but I've spent the last decade foiling his plans. I know Al Alan's patterns. In ten years, he's never failed to attack innocents on Thanksgiving.

Mito: What is a Thanksgiving?

Rob: That's obvious, Mito. It's when you thank your life-giver. We had it on my home planet. Great holiday. There was always a lot of flowers and finger-painting involved.

Dolly: That's not the kind of Thanksgiving Extra-man is talking about. This one has parades and turkeys. Everyone goes up a pants size.

Rob: Why?

Dolly: Let's focus on the important questions. Extra-man, did someone sew that suit onto you, or do you have to pour that perfect ass into those pants every morning?

Extra-man: I will answer one more question, and then I'm leaving. Pick your words carefully.

Mito: The three reporters huddle together near the edge of the building to discuss our final question. We need to think this through. We need to ask a question that proves we are serious, experienced reporters.

Rob: Why does Extra-man stop crime? If he has all these super abilities, couldn't he just take over the world and ban crime?

Mito: That's stupid, Rob.

Dolly: I'm glad someone said it.

Mito: Being a lead reporter is hard enough. I can't imagine how much paperwork would be involved in controlling the entire world.

Dolly: Mito, Rob, you two don't have the common sense God gave a billy goat. Crime is already banned. That's why we call it crime. We ought to ask a real question. How does super-strength impact Extra-man's sex life?

Rob: Dolly, no.

Dolly: Think about it. Does it allow him to try lots of interesting positions, or is he only able to tumble in the hay with other invincible folks?

Rob: We are not asking Extra-man about his sex life.

Mito: Yeah, especially because the answer is obvious. In theory, a lot of people must be attracted to him, but few would be willing to engage in repeated trysts. Can you imagine how much super-hearing would impact a relationship? Everyone needs secrets, or at least the illusion that they have secrets.

Rob: I never kept secrets from my girlfriend.

Dolly: Really? You never bit your tongue when you saw a girl with better ooh-la-la's? After a big 'ol bowl of baked beans, you never backed up into a doorway so you could let out a sneaky fart? Excuse my French, but that is bullshit.

Mito: Exactly. There's also the difference in physical strength to consider. I'd never enter into a relationship with someone I couldn't murder. Obviously, I've never murdered anyone, but I like knowing it's a possibility.

Dolly: That's a wise decision, Mito.

Rob: That's really unhealthy.

Mito: I've been stabbed in the back before. If it ever happens again, I plan on surviving the stabbing long enough to do a little stabbing of my own. Why do you think you two are on my team? Rob, I could kill you in a heartbeat.

Rob: You have issues.

Mito: Clearly, the only person crazy enough to enter into a relationship with Extra-man would also be crazy enough not to mind any potential impediments to their sex life. Ergo, where there's a will, there's a way.

Dolly: I can't fault that logic.

Mito: Extra-man, how many people do you eat in a year? Don't try to protest. Your flight pattern suggests predatory instincts.

Rob: Viewers without psychic capabilities should know Extra-man is currently staring at Mito like she's lost her mind. Little does he know, she's never had it. He opens his mouth like he wants to say something, then closes it again. He stares up at the sky, as if searching for answers. He won't find any. I know. I've looked.

Dolly: Extra-man now gives Rob the same look. Clearly, I am the only… Correction: Extra-man is now giving all three of us an identical look. It's a little hurtful, actually.

Extra-man: I do not eat people. I hunt criminals, then hand them over to the police. I'm going to fly the three of you down to the street, and then we aren't going to talk anymore.

Mito: Before I can argue, I find myself on the sidewalk beneath the building. The sparkly navigation heels give a happy tap dance and attempt to yank me off my feet. I'd almost forgotten I had the leash around my hand.

Rob: Do we go home now?

Dolly: We're only halfway through our time slot. If we return to the Crack Between Worlds, Mr. Stanton really will dock our pay. I reckon we should follow those sparkly navigation shoes.

Mito: The sparkly navigation shoes bound across the sidewalk. With quick reflexes and extraordinary grace, I avoid knocking over any pedestrians.

Dolly: Our dear Mito keeps having close calls, mind you, but nobody has kissed the sidewalk just yet. If anyone here watches the CBW channel, I have a feeling the complaints are gonna start flooding in. Or maybe not. Most of these pedestrians seem pretty focused on keeping their place in the line that seems to stretch on for miles.

Rob: The city is supernaturally clean, but it's the people that make me uneasy. Not all of them. The ones standing in line seem normal. I think there's something wrong with the people holding bright, orange bags. They're too quiet. They're too… directionless.

Mito: Rob gently shoves a tall, stylish man. He wanders off in that direction like a ping-pong ball. He doesn't even complain. Usually Rob gets at least a second glance, but this man looks right through him.

Rob: See? It's like there's nothing going on behind their eyes.

Dolly: The porch light is on, but no one is home. Good catch, sugar. Mito, stop those sparkly shoes. I want to interview one of them.

Mito: I'm the lead reporter, and stopping these shoes is a lot harder than it looks.

Dolly: Never fear. I'm a cunning strategist. Wrap that leash around a light pole, dear. Oh, my. I didn't know you were good with knots.

Mito: I'm good with everything. Once the sparkly navigation heels are securely tethered to the light pole, I look for someone with an orange bag to interview. You! Miss? Miss? Helloooo? Can you hear me?

Rob: Sir? Mister? Dude? Man? Can I have a moment of your time, good sir?

Dolly: It's like talking to a fencepost. Something is definitely wrong.

Rob: I think we should talk to the people in line.

Mito: I find a suitable target in the line and hurry over.

Rob: This was my idea. I should lead the interview.

Mito: I'm the lead reporter.

Dolly: While my companions are distracted, I approach a woman with a thick, purple scarf wrapped around her neck.

Dolly: That's a lovely scarf, sugar. Did you crochet it yourself?

Woman: I'm not giving you my place in line.

Dolly: Ohhhh. I'm just making conversation. There's no need to get snippy.

Woman: Sorry. I've had like a dozen people try to pay me to move. I guess I'm a little oversensitive.

Dolly: No, no, sugar. I came on too strong. I never can remember how to talk to city folk. I'm not from around here.

Woman: Yeah. I could tell by the accent. You're from the Southern Socialist Union, right?

Dolly: Thereabouts, yes. I'm a little confused about what this here line is for. Don't tell me the newest gaming whatchamacallit is out.

Woman: No. It's kind of silly actually. Al Alan, you know the billionaire?

Dolly: I'm sure I've heard that name a time or two?

Woman: He's the one Extra-man keeps arresting. You know him, right? Tall. Handsome. Could rip a bus in two with his bare hands? I know Extra-man is a hero, but he kind of has a hate-boner for Al.

Dolly: For good reason?

Woman: Who knows? I keep waiting for the paparazzi to catch them hooking up. They act like exes. Messy exes. Anyway, Al Alan just got his conviction overturned, but it just wasn't enough to prove his innocence to a judge. He wanted the whole city to know that he's a good man.

Dolly: If I wanted to convince people I was harmless, I'd bring them a nice pecan pie.

Woman: Maybe Al has roots in the Southern Socialist Union, because that's almost exactly what he did. Al set up these little pop-up shops all over the city, and he's giving away pumpkin pie for Thanksgiving. I thought it was just a transparent grab for popularity, but then it went viral. People are saying it's the best pumpkin pie they've ever had.

Dolly: I don't know about that. Nothing mass produced can hold a candle to a homemade pie with a flaky butter crust.

Woman: No, really. People swear it's better than anything their granny can make, and you know grannies make the best pie.

Dolly: That I do. So you're standing in line to grab one of them pies?

Woman: Totally. Ugh. I've been here forever. I would kill to be holding one of those orange bags right now.

Dolly: You've been so sweet, sugar. You have a good Thanksgiving, now.

Woman: You too!

Rob: Mito, you interrupt my interviews, but you'll let Dolly talk as long as she likes?

Mito: Dolly is a professional.

Dolly: You two hush up. Whatever is going on with these pies, it leads back to Al Alan.

Mito: The navigation shoes are programmed to lead us to drama. I say we follow them and see if it leads us to Al Alan.

Rob: Mito unties the sparkly heels, and they rush off. As they yank the leash from Mito's hand, I lunge for it and miss.

Mito: Catch them!

Rob: Gee. Why didn't I think of that?

Mito: We sprint after the shoes. Shit. Shit. Shit. If we lose the navigation heels, I'm going to be in so much trouble. Just as I think I've lost them, I see silver sparkles march into a tall office building.

Rob: This seems like a good time to talk about our sponsor. Why don't you tell us about them, Mito?

Mito: I hate you so much. Llama Cigarettes. They're awesome. Try them.

Dolly: This is not good for my arthritis.

Mito: Uh-oh. I don't think that security guard likes the look of us. The sparkly heels jump up and press the elevator button.

Random security guard: Where's your ID badge? Stop running and show me some ID.

Mito: We jump into the elevator and frantically press the button to close the door. One of the heels jumps up and slams the button for the top floor. A warning flashes across the display.

Dolly: It's a restricted area. It needs a security badge. Oh, my. I can hear that security guard hollering outside the door. We need to get a move on before he overrides the elevator doors.

Mito: Do something! The guard is going to drag us out by our long, luscious hair.

Rob: One of the shoes jumps up to the display. The long pointy heel sticks itself to the display. There's a spark.  The elevator starts moving just in the nick of time.

Dolly: Good lord, that took a lot out of me. For a second, I thought the navigation heels were going to make us take the stairs.

Rob: Why do the shoes know how to work an elevator?

Dolly: Never mind that. Look at you, Rob! You're standing in an elevator and not even panicking over the floor moving.

Rob: Mito dragged me into the elevator at the news station and made me practice until I didn't feel like throwing up. I don't understand why people need all this technology. On my homeworld, horses took us everywhere we needed to go. If a horse couldn't make the journey, then we probably didn't need to go.

Mito: The doors slide open to reveal an elegant penthouse. There's a timeless sense of high-class wealth that could be called artistic if it wasn't so utterly soulless.

Dolly: There's also a super-powered studmuffin threatening a pasty man in a suit, but sure, Mito. Focus on the weird artwork.

Extra-man: What are you three doing here?

Mito: We're reporters. We go where the story is. Are you going to eat this innocent civilian?

Extra-man: I don't eat people.

Mito: I'll be the judge of that.

Al Alan: Don't listen to him! Call my security!

Extra-man: Meet Al Alan. He's been handing out pumpkin pies laced with mind-control drugs. This is a criminal matter, and I can't have you interfering. Please, return to the Crack Between Worlds.

Dolly: Sorry, sugar. The CBW channel prides itself on fair, neutral coverage. We need to interview Mr. Pancake Ass.

Al Alan: Yes. Interview me.

Extra-man: Go. Home.

Mito: I am not intimidated by the super-glare, but I decide to leave anyway. Our timeslot is over. That's the only reason.

Rob: Next up is Violet Anatomy, the reality TV show that follows a group of doctors at a Glundark Teaching Hospital. Stay tuned to see how Dr. Handsome reacts to Dr. Beautiful's secret third tentacle.

Dolly: Ta-ta for now, my lovelies.