LNH 'Tsk' Force #3: "Lost in the Supermarket"

Starring: Irony Man, Bandwagon Chick, Adamant Authority on Everything, and No Sense of Direction Man

with: Mainstream Man, Contraption Man, and Doctor Stomper

Special Guest Villain: The Crouching Terrorist

* * * * * *

Irony Man tapped his armored fingers gently on the battered desk in the Tsk Force Command Center. Contraption Man, the technical genius from the future, and Todd, the LNH intern, stood in the center of the room surrounded by wires, circuit boards and other high-tech parts spread all over the floor.

"I know, I know," Contraption Man said. "I told you the Tsk Force supercomputer would be online yesterday. But somebody -- " He glared at Todd. "Somebody couldn't read my handwriting and sent the purchase order to some outfit called Rodeo Shark. It's going to take another day or two. In the meantime you've still got the manual backup system." He gestured vaguely in the direction of an ancient filing cabinet stuffed full of manila folders.

"And I've got a deck of cards if you want to play Solitaire," Todd offered helpfully.

"No, thank you, Todd. Maybe you've helped enough today," Irony Man replied.

"Um, okay. Oh, I was supposed to tell you -- there's a Tsk Force mission."

"What is it?" Irony Man asked. Look at this, he thought, I'm so bored I'm actually looking forward to another pointless exercise in civic-mindedness.

"Doctor Stomper has the details. He said he'll come down and tell you about it after he's done in the Peril Room."

* * * * * *

Outside the Peril Room, a small cluster of net.heroes were discussing their newest probationary member, No Sense of Direction Man.

"I still don't trust him," a man in a black bodysuit and gray cape said. "I mean, he's supposedly from a completely different dimension, right?"

"That's what he told us, Adam," Mainstream Man responded. "And Doc Stomper's tests confirm that. Of course, you'd know better than they would."

"Stomper's been wrong before," his companion replied. Adam Evers -- better known to the LNH as Adamant Authority on Everything -- was not about to be swayed by any so-called expert opinions. "And people have been known to lie about their superhero origins. But if this Alan Smithee character really does come from another dimension, how come he looks like any random 30-year-old accountant off the street? How come he speaks perfect English without even a slight accent?"

"He doesn't look _just_ like a normal human," Bandwagon Chick pointed out. "What about his eyes? He doesn't have any irises."

"That's not true. He has irises. They're just white," Adam shot back.

"Adam's right about that, Bonnie," Mainstream Man agreed. "If you look close, you can tell."

"Still, you have to admit that normal humans don't have white irises," Bonnie said.

"I don't have to admit anything. Besides, that would be easy to fake. You'd just --"

"Cool it, guys," Mainstream Man said. "They're coming."

And, true to the warning, Doctor Stomper and No Sense of Direction Man emerged from the Peril Room. The older man was making some notes on a clipboard. "Excellent progress, Alan. You've gained a remarkable degree of control over your No-Sense-of-Direction powers."

"So I'll be able to go on crimefighting missions without getting the whole team lost?"

"Exactly. By the way, how do you like your new costume?"

"It's great. Remind me to thank New Look Lass when I see her." Alan wore a black bodysuit covered with white arrows pointing in random directions. The hood, which would normally cover his entire face, was pulled back revealing his curly brown hair. He picked up a leather jacket from a nearby chair. "I don't really understand the jacket, but everybody seems to think it's a good joke." He shrugged into the jacket and turned so that Stomper could read the legend "You Are Here" emblazoned on the back.

Stomper chuckled. "That is clever. Um, I'll try to explain it to you later. Right now I've got to talk to Irony Man. Bonnie, could you help Alan find his way back to his quarters?"

"Sure thing, Doc. This way, Alan." And with that, they departed toward the stairs.

* * * * * *

"That's it?" Irony Man asked. "We go to Lucky Von Sooperson's Market and watch for people taking more than ten items in the express lane?"

"Apparently several shoppers have complained, but the manager doesn't want to confront the offenders," Doctor Stomper said. "I know you're ridiculously overqualified for most of these assignments, Toony, but you did save the Looniverse on that first mission. There's often more to these things than meets the eye."

"Maybe you're right. Guess I'll assemble a crack team and go strike a blow for consumer courtesy."

* * * * * *

An hour later, Irony Man was still sifting through dossiers. "No. No. Out of town. On a mission. No. Currently dead. No. Oh God, not her." As he dismissed each one he tossed it onto an ever-mounting discard pile. Eventually the cabinet was empty and there was still nobody in the "Yes" pile. "Uh-huh. All right, then." Grabbing three folders that had fallen to the floor, he picked up the black rotary dial phone on the desk. "Have No Sense of Direction Man, Bandwagon Chick and Adamant Authority on Everything report to the Tsk Force command center," he told the switchboard. "Wait. Tell Bandwagon Chick and Adamant Authority on Everything to find No Sense of Direction Man and bring him here."

* * * * * *

Bandwagon Chick walked into the supermarket and spotted the rest of the Tsk Force standing near the magazine rack. "I left the Mystic Bandwagon right outside in case we need it. What's going on?"

"All quiet so far," Irony Man told her. "Everything seems normal with the express lane." He gestured toward the checkout stands where, indeed, commerce seemed to be proceeding in a reasonably orderly fashion.

"Normal?" Adamant Authority on Everything asked. "How can you say it's normal? Look at that sign! It says, 'Ten Items or Less.'"

"And?" Bandwagon Chick asked, not seeing Irony Man shake his head at her.

"You can't have 'less' items. Items are discreet units. It should say, 'Ten or Fewer Items.' I'm going to talk to that manager character."

"Adam," Irony Man said. "I don't think that's necessary."

"Of course it's necessary. Look, we're here because people are disregarding the express lane sign, right? And the sign is clearly wrong. Obviously, people are ignoring the sign because it's nonsense. If he fixes the sign, people will do what it says."

"Arguing with him won't do any good, Irony Man," Bonnie said. "Let him try to get the sign changed. What can it hurt?"

"Irony Man, I have a question," No Sense of Direction Man whispered. "Why is that man walking around all crouched over like that?"

"Which man?" Irony Man asked, looking around.

"The man with the satchel marked 'Danger! Bombs!'" No Sense of Direction Man turned around. "I don't see him now."

"Sounds like trouble. Bandwagon Chick, you start on this side. No Sense of Direction Man, you . . . come with me, I guess."

Adamant Authority on Everything came stomping back. "That manager is an idiot. He looked me right in the eye and said that nobody knows or cares about the difference between 'less' and 'fewer.'"

"We've got a bigger problem now," Irony Man told him. "A possible bomb suspect. We're trying to find him. Oh, he might be walking around crouched over, so look down."

"He got away from you by crouching down? You're slipping, IM."

"Actually, I didn't see him at all. No Sense of Direction Man did."

"And of course," Adam said sarcastically, "He's from another dimension and figured it was normal for people to carry bombs around in the supermarket."

"Well, I thought it was odd. I turned to ask Irony Man about it and then I couldn't see him any more," Alan explained apologetically. "So I don't know where he is."

"That's ridiculous. You saw him go down one of these aisles, right? Which one?"

"He really doesn't know, Adam," Irony Man said. "So there's no point in getting angry. Let's just split up and find this character before anyone gets hurt."

"An excellent idea, you armored goon!" The voice came from about three feet off the ground, near the checkout stand.

"Who said that?" Irony Man craned his neck to see behind the counter.

"I did, you metal-bound imbecile! Me!" With that, a middle-aged man with a deranged look in his eye came waddling around from behind the counter, all hunkered down. In his left hand he held a bag of bargain-brand cereal. In his right he held a detonator with a blinking red light and a big round button.

"Who are you, and what do you want?" Irony Man asked calmly as he calculated whether he could safely fire off an irony beam in these close quarters. The supermarket customers and employees had taken notice and stood warily watching the repartee. A few sidled casually toward the exit.

"Who am I? Who am I, you pathetic home for lost refrigerator magnets? Who I am is the guy with the detonator. That means I'm the one in charge. And what I want, Tin Man, is first, that nobody moves." Several customers who had been edging their way out the door stopped. "That's right. No sidling. No sneaking out. In fact, the next thing I want is for everybody to crouch down and walk around all hunkered over like me."

Several hostages gasped with surprise. A few brave souls cried out "Never!" or "You're a madman!" but most of them quickly crouched down and tried to act invisible.

"Can I ask why?" No Sense of Direction Man asked.

"'Can I ask why?'" the crouching terrorist mocked him. "You can ask why, Keep Left Boy. I'll go you one better. I'll tell you why. Because it's fun, that's why. Because it's fun and because I said so, and because I've still got the freaking detonator, you Spandex-clad moron, and if people don't do what I say, this whole place becomes a hole as empty as your ugly head."

"So this is all about posture? You're taking a grocery store hostage to advocate your new way of walking?" Irony Man asked, still standing.

"Wrong! What a surprise, the empty suit of armor is wrong again! What this is about, Sir Brainless, is breakfast cereal!" He waved the bag in his left hand. "I want everyone here to admit that this cheap cereal -- the kind that comes in bags -- is just as good as the kind that comes in a box. And the supermarkets know this -- oh, yes, they know. But they also know that shoppers are stupid sheep who'll buy anything you put in front of them, so they conspire with the big cereal companies to put the expensive boxed cereals at eye level and they hide the equally good bags on the bottom shelf, where you can't see them unless you very cleverly crouch down and walk like me, so you can see that the bagged cereal tastes just as good as the boxed kind--"

"Garbage!" Adamant Authority on Everything shouted.

"Ah, another member of the pajama police," the bomber sneered. "Who are you, Arrogant Man?" he added, referring to the red "A" on the net.hero's chest.

"Don't try changing the subject, Kneebones. You said you can tell how good the cereal tastes by looking at it."

"Well, you can. Look!" He waved the cereal vehemently in Adam's face. "Look! It tastes just as good as the other kind! It does!"

"I haven't got tastebuds in my eyes, dink. That stuff could be made out of styrofoam for all I know."

"Styrofoam! That's an insult! I'll ... I'll show you what's styrofoam and what's not. This whole place will go up like a styrofoam cup, you . . . stupid person in a mask."

Irony Man whispered to No Sense of Direction Man, "His insults are getting worse. Adam's really got him rattled. Keep an eye out for an opening."

Adam laughed. "Blowing the store up and killing all these people won't make your cereal taste any better, you know."

"I don't have to make it taste better!" The terrorist was livid. "It already tastes just as good! Look!"

"I told you once, I can't tell how it tastes by looking at it, you nut."

"All right, then, taste it, smart guy!" He fumbled with the bag, trying to open it one-handed. Getting nowhere thus, he tucked the detonator under his arm and tore violently at the seal on the plastic bag.

No Sense of Direction Man quickly stood up and took a step toward the cereal fanatic . . . and suddenly appeared right behind him. He grabbed the detonator and stepped back to where Irony Man was waiting and handed over the detonator.

"Good work," Irony Man congratulated him. "Now let's find Bandwagon Chick and take our new friend to the authorities."

"I'm right here, IM," Bandwagon Chick came up from the bread aisle, pushing a shopping cart full of bombs.

"Hey, be careful with those," Irony Man told her.

"Relax. I had plenty of time to disarm them while you guys were arguing with the villain. They were easy to find, too -- all on the bottom shelves."

Adamant Authority on Everything came over, with the handcuffed bomber in tow. "Here you go, boss. He won't be bothering any shoppers for a while. By the way, I tried some of that cereal -- it's really bad. Bland, and kind of stale." His captive just glowered at him as Irony Man lifted him up into the Mystic Bandwagon.

"Ah, No Sense of Direction Man," Adam said as his new teammate sat down next to him. "I know I gave you a hard time earlier, and I just wanted to say, you know, good job on getting the detonator away from that guy. I mean, it was kind of moot because Bonnie'd already disarmed the bombs, but we didn't know that and he might have set it off accidentally while fiddling with that bag . . . Anyway, thanks."

"Just doing my job," Alan said.

"Yeah, I suppose. Hey, how does that teleportation trick work anyway? I know Stomper said it's because space in your dimension has different geometric properties from ours, but that's just his usual gobbledlygook. I mean, it doesn't make sense that you have superpowers just because you don't know left from right. If I didn't know the difference between alligators and crocodiles that wouldn't give me the power to transform the one into the other, would it?"

"Irony Man, should we do something?" Bandwagon Chick whispered.

"No, Alan's going to have to learn how to deal with Adam sooner or later. Just let it go."

"Say, Adam," Alan said thoughtfully. "Did the manager fix that express lane sign?"

"No. No he didn't. That's right. Thanks for reminding me.

Hey, Irony Man, you guys go on without me. I'm going to talk to that manager again . . ."

* * * * * *

Copyright 1998, Steven Howard

Bandwagon Chick created by Sue Clark.

Adamant Authority on Everything created by Ray Bingham.

Contraption Man, Doctor Stomper, Irony Man and Mainstream Man created by person or persons unknown.

Used without permission.