Trent Phloog’s third-person flashback continues …

The Marketable Universe, July 4, 1976

Megaton Man and the Human Meltdown traded blows in midair over the Statue of Liberty, knocking the other back hundreds of feet with each one, and more than once coming perilously close to crashing into the monument. Still aloft, whoever was struck would blasted back, come to a stop, hover for a moment as they recovered, then fly right back at the other one to throw another punch in return. It was a very inefficient way to fight.

While the battle raged, the Q-Mobile flew around in circles, looking for an opportunity to take the side of the Human Meltdown against the interloper, Megaton Man.

“If only there was some way to lend a hand,” said Yarn Man, balling up his red mittens into fists. “If we could swing close enough, I could wallop that crummy imposter and put an end to this bout and put an end to this bout once and for all!”

“I can try distracting Megaton Man by turning naked with but a thought,” said the See-Thru Girl. “Only, it might distract my half-brother, too,” she added; “I’m pretty sure he peeps at me while I shower in our team headquarters dormitory!”

“What’s wrong with that kid?” said Yarn Man. “Didn’t he ever see a girl, growing up in that orphanage?”

“I guess it’s only natural,” said Stella. “After all, we didn’t even know the other existed until we were both teenagers.”

“Chuck Roast is an improvement over his father and grandfather,” remarked Rex. “We had both Major Meltdown and Magma in our team before you, and the behavior of both intolerable.”

Rex steered frantically to evade the Human Meltdown, who was sent hurtling past the Q-Mobile like a rocket by one of Megaton Man’s punches. “No chance of flying any closer to the battle,” said Rex as the flying car swerved again to miss a spike on the crown of Lady Liberty. “We’re lucky if one of those two don’t crash into us, let alone the monument.”

Rex looked down at the large Bicentennial Day crowd gathered around the base of the statue; flag-waving picnickers with baskets had spread blankets on the lawn.

“We’ve got to get these tourist back on their ferries and away from the island before someone gets hurt,” said Rex. He steered the Q-Mobile to a steep descent, coming to rest on the grassy lawns skirting Liberty Island, startling the crowd that had been focusing their attention on the spectacle of two nuclear-powered heroes going at it in the skies above.

Liquid Man bounded from the vehicle and began rolling toward the crowd like a wobbling, runaway waterballoon, followed by Yarn Man and the See-Thru Girl, who was now stark naked. The sight of three incongruous megaheroes charging at them sent families in a screaming panic toward the docked ferries.

One lone figure stood his ground: a haggard, elderly man in an orange jumpsuit. “Fools! They’ve fallen for my ploy! They’ve given me the very tool I need to secure the Cosmic Cue-Ball!”

While Rex, Bing, and Stella chased the crowd, the man ran toward the unguarded Q-Mobile. Leaping in, he grabbed the controls and began revving the engine.

“With Rex Rigid’s own fabulous Q-Mobile, I’ll be able to disarm the defenses of the accursed Quantum Tower and gain entrance into the amazing scientific laboratory where the Mutanium Particle is held captive!”

Rex, dizzy from all the rolling, came to a stop in the middle of the lawn. “Could that be who I thought it was? Willard Helveticus Brainard? It can’t be!”

Yarn Man and the See-Thru Girl turned and watched helplessly along with Rex as the Q-Mobile took flight from Liberty Island, heading toward lower Manhattan.

“Who is that guy stealing our ride?” asked Yarn Man. “Do you know him?”

“It’s been years,” said Rex. “But I think the Q-Mobile was just hijacked by Dr. Braindead!”

***

“You’re pretty good with your fists, Megaton Man,” said Chuck, “for a musclebound goon, that is.”

“Yeah, well, you pack a pretty good wallop yourself, Human Meltdown,” said Trent, “for a flying glob of pyroclastic protoplasm!” He caught a glimpse of the Q-Mobile as it lifted off from Liberty Island toward lower Manhattan. “Don’t look now, friend, but your teammates are abandoning you—they’re going home!”

“I’m not falling for that old trick,” said Chuck, who nonetheless shot a quick glance over his shoulder. “Well, I’ll be … the Q-Mobile is splitting the scene! But my team’s not on board; it’s some old guy in an orange jumpsuit, cackling like a madman …”

Megaton Man watched as the Human Meltdown gave chase to the speeding Q-Mobile.

“I’ve got to stop him,” said Chuck. “If he breaks into our team headquarters, he could steal my collection of dirty magazines!”

“Ha! Running off, scared,” said Megaton Man. “I knew it! Some ‘America’s Nuclear-Powered Hero’ the Human Meltdown turns out to be.”

Then, Trent glanced down and saw the other three members of the Quantum Quest Quartet.

“Is that a living waterballoon, a man made of yarn, and a naked lady menacing those patriotic picnickers?”

Quickly, Megaton Man flew down and landed on the lawn.

“I don’t know what your game is,” he announced. “But breaking up the Bicentennial is not kosher.”

“You’re definitely not Farley Phloog,” said Rex, studying the Man of Molecules’ primary-colored costume. “Although your uniform evokes that of the Original Golden Age Megaton Man. Where do you come from, stranger?”

“Microville,” said Trent. “A wholesome, all-American small town.”

“A small town from another dimension, perhaps,” said Stella. “They don’t give names like that to small towns here.”

“A crummy imposter,” said Yarn Man. “I knew it!”

“No, not an imposter, Bing,” said Rex. “A visitor from the Federal—now District—Universe. Isn’t that right, Megaton Man?”

“I’m not Megaton Man,” said Trent. “I’m a mild-mannered cub reporter for … no, wait!” He looked at his yellow gloves. “That’s right, I’m Megaton Man—I forgot which clothes I was wearing for a minute there. I suppose you’re the evil genius who broadcast that challenge to America’s Nuclear-Powered Hero over the airwaves?”

“My husband may be a genius, but he’s certainly not evil,” said the See-Thru Girl, whose clothes had now returned. “Unfortunately, he’s not even capable of being naughty—and I need a man who can be naughty at least now and again. Desperately.”

“Woo!” said Megaton Man. “You big-city folk sure aren’t shy about speaking frankly. Something else to get used to about Megatropolis, I guess.”

“Megatropolis?” said Yarn Man. “You must be the joker putting up those signs I keep seeing all over town—the National Bank of Megatropolis, the Megatropolis Bagel Company, the Megatropolis Egg Cream and Soda Shoppe! Why does every newcomer have to give some kooky nickname to our beloved Gotham, our shiny Big Apple, our erstwhile New Amsterdam, our …. Say, where in the heck are we, anyway? Why can’t I think of the name of our own hometown? This guy must have put a hex on us or somethin’.”

“Bing, you’d forget the name of your team if it wasn’t initialed on your chest,” said Rex.

“You mean the Crosstown Yowlers?” replied Yarn Man.

“No, I mean this ‘Q’,” said Rex, pointing to his own chest. “It stands for … it stands for … now it’s slipping my mind, too.”

“Honey, Yarn Man has a ‘Y’ on his chest,” said Stella. “And you …” She looked puzzled. “Liquid Man, you’re wearing an ‘L’ now …”

Rex looked down and saw this was true. The uniform he wore was no longer blue with a white ‘Q’; it was now taxicab yellow and lime green, and sported an ‘L’ as an insignia.

“Obviously that’s for Liquid Man,” said Rex. “But you, Stella, dear, you still have a ‘Q’—only, what does that stand for? Concupiscent, perhaps.”

“I think it’s Quartet something or other,” said Stella. “Now you’ve got me confused, too!”

“Quartet? You look like a threesome to me,” and Megaton Man, adding, “And please, none of your immoral Megatropolis remarks! Did I mention I’m from a wholesome small town?”

“Speaking of ‘Q,’ let’s not forget someone has made off with the Q-Mobile,” said Bing. “Whatever it stands for! It makes us look like a buncha Quitters!”

“It’s all beginning to make sense!” mused Rex. “The sudden appearance of the Cosmic Cue-Ball; a second ‘America’s Nuclear-Powered Hero’; and finally Willard Helveticus Brainard—who hasn’t been seen for forty years. Imperceptibly, worlds are colliding … but, there’s no time to ponder all of that backstory now! With the Q-Mobile, Dr. Braindead can gain access to our team headquarters—and the Cosmic Cue-Ball!”

“What are we supposed to do?” said Yarn Man. “None of us three can fly! We’re stranded here on Liberty Island. Unless we can still catch a ferry …”

“There isn’t time,” said Stella. “But don’t worry—Chuck will catch up with him.”

“Maybe, maybe not,” said Rex. “If it really is Willard Helveticus Brainard behind the wheel of the Q-Mobile, he might be more than a match for the Human Meltdown! Megaton Man, it’s up to you—Dr. Braindead must be stopped!”

“Woo!” said Megaton Man, who promptly took off after the Human Meltdown.

***

Willard Helveticus Brainard set the flying vehicle down squarely on the “Q”-shaped landing pad atop the Quantum Tower. Pressing buttons on the dashboard, he ordered the platform lowered into the top floor of the skyscraper.

“I’ve done it! I’ve gained access to the hiding place of the Cosmic Cue-Ball! And not a moment too soon!”

Glancing behind him before the platform completely disappeared into the building, Dr. Braindead could see the Human Meltdown, still several blocks away, racing toward him over lower Manhattan. In the distance, Megaton Man was still over the waters of Lower New York Bay.

“The Nuclear-Powered Heroes of two Americas are on my heels,” said Willard. “Truly, a Bi-Bicentennial! But, neither will arrive in time to stop me!”

The platform slowly sank from the harsh afternoon daylight above into the relative darkness of the interior laboratory. With the lights off, the only illumination came from twinkling lights on humming computer consoles.

Then, Dr. Braindead spotted it: off in the corner, encased in its crystal cake dish, the slowly pulsating glow of the Cosmic Cue-Ball.

“The Mutanium Particle!” cried Dr. Braindead! “Oh, how you’ve led me on quite the chase! Across vast eons of time, through myriad Multimensional realities, over inconceivable swaths of space itself! But soon now, finally, you shall be mine, and I can finally rectify the foolish mistake of my youth! With you in hand, I, Willard Helveticus Brainard will at last heal the breach of the split reality, and wipe out the misbegotten history of the past forty years in two megahero universes—the Federal and the Timeless—as if each had never existed!”

Dr. Braindead stepped out of the car and waited patiently on the edge of the platform, which was still a dozen feet above the floor. Overly anxious, he badly misjudged the remaining distance and prematurely stepped off into the darkness, plummeting and landing hard on the metal floor.

“Damn! Gravity!” said the doctor, badly shaken and bruised. “How ironic, breaking every bone in my body scant moments before reaching my goal!”

As the platform settled to the floor, the laboratory lights flashed on. The old man was in a pool of blood and broken teeth.

Crawling painfully toward the glow, Dr. Braindead reached for the table upon which sat Bing’s Aunt Matilda’s cake dish containing the Orb of Great Power.

“Can’t reach it,” said Dr. Braindead, coughing and spitting. “It’s too high up … only a matter of feet, inches …”

The Cosmic Cue-Ball now pulsated in glowing waves as ephemeral, multi-colored shapes swirled within the glass enclosure.

The Human Meltdown appeared on the aperture in the roof, followed by Megaton Man. Peering cautiously down, they saw the struggling, broken, orange-clad old man on the floor.

“Looks like he’s finished,” said Chuck.

Deciding it was safe, they descended to the laboratory floor.

“This can’t be the end of Willard Helveticus Brainard!” said the old man, now turning over on his back and reaching for his belt. “I must survive to fight another day. If I am to be denied the Mutanium Particle on this day, there is always … the future!”

He pressed a button on the buckle of his belt. A crackle of energy enveloped his broken frame, and Dr. Braindead disappeared.

Chuck Roast, his pyroclastic protoplasm solid flesh once again, looked about the lab. “Where did the old man in the orange jumpsuit go?”

“Woo!” said Megaton Man. “He just disappeared. Spooky.”

“At least the laboratory’s intact,” said Chuck. “Nothing seems amiss or out of place, except you, big fella.”

“So, this is the amazing headquarters of the quartet from Megatropolis,” said Megaton Man. “I’ve always wanted to visit, since I learned you guys existed about half an hour ago.”

“Yeah, we’re the Megatropolis Quartet, all right, and don’t you forget it,” said Chuck. “Wait, that’s not our team name—but I can’t remember what it really is. Quotidian, Quixotic, Quiescent—why can’t I think of it? And why can’t I remember our town’s name, either?”

“Woo!” said Megaton Man. “Where I come from, everyone just calls it Megatropolis. Don’t you people know geography?”

In the cake dish, the swirling, ephemeral shapes surrounding the Cosmic Cue-Ball slowly faded away.

***

Megaton Man flew back to the City Room of The Manhattan Project, where Trent Phloog still had holiday duty, and Chuck Roast flew the Q-Mobile back to Liberty Island to pick up his teammates. On the flight back, the confused foursome argued over which name applied to their city—New York or Megatropolis—and tried to recall the name of their team.

“I still think this is New York City,” insisted Stella. “It just sounds right to my ear.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” said Bing. “That’s just the name of the bay!”

“Quartet has to be in the name,” said Stella. “Why else would I be wearing a ‘Q’ on my chest?”

“We’re probably named after the town,” said Bing. “Queens—the Queens Quartet.”

“We’re not headquartered in Queens,” said Chuck.

“What about Quantum?” said Stella. “Wasn’t that part of the name?”

“That’s just the name of the building!” said Bing.

“But you’re getting warmer, Bing,” said Rex. “It’s got to be something alliterative.”

“That old man must have confounded us,” said Chuck. “Him or that phony America’s Nuclear-Powered Hero … some kind of amnesia ray. Either that or that goofy billiard ball you have stored in that cake dish, Rex. It must be giving off some kinda goofy radiation.”

“I agree, keeping the Cosmic Cue-Ball in a cake dish probably isn’t the best practice,” said Rex. “Remind me to insulate it with a layer of Quarantinium-Quelluminum foil.” Then, he promptly forgot all about it.

There was also considerable discussion about the terms Federal, District, Timeless, and Marketable Universes, and which applied to the present circumstance.

“If what I think has transpired has transpired, we may be witnessing the blending of multiple realities,” said Rex. “Two megahero universes folded into one. The old terminology may no longer be operative: we may have an Everything-But-the-Kitchen-Sinkverse on our hands.”

Nearing the Quantum Tower, Rex looked down at the plaza below.

“I know what may jog our memory—our new building logo!”

Rex maneuvered the craft down to the plaza where packing crates containing the letters of the team name had been delivered earlier that morning. Only now, the plaza they came upon was in complete disarray: the travertine pavement had been rent asunder; the earth itself had opened up; and big, bug-eyed monster had emerged from the hellish depths.

“Look, it’s Buddy,” said Bing, “From Bug-Eyed Island! He misses us! I know we should have taken our spring vacation as scheduled—he thought we forgot all about him and came looking for us.”

Rex landed the craft on what was left of the plaza, and the group got out to assuage their pet.

“You came all the way through the earth just to see us?” asked Chuck, petting the scales of the monstrous, towering creature.

Rex looked about the plaza; instead of packing crates containing neon letters, all he could see were scraps of wood and metal.

“Where’s our logo?” asked Rex, alarmed. “All those thirty-foot-tall letters—all nineteen of them—were here earlier. I remember special-ordering each and every one of them—and it cost a fortune to have them delivered over the Fourth of July weekend. They weren’t covered by insurance until they’re attached to the building!”

“I think Buddy must have eaten them,” said Chuck. “He must have been hungry after clawing all the way through the earth’s molten core.”

“The blamed thing has gone and eaten our logo,” said Bing. “Buddy, you shouldn’t have—now we’ll never remember what our team name used to be!”

“Nineteen letters, you say?” asked Stella. “New York City Quartet is only eighteen. You’re right—this can’t be New York City.”

“How about New Amsterdam Quartet?” said Chuck. “That’s nineteen letters.”

“Neither of those are alliterative,” Rex pointed out. “Although now it doesn’t matter—we don’t have a budget for another nineteen-letter logo.”

“But we still need a team name, don’t we?” said Stella. “What did Megaton Man call this city?”

“Megatropolis,” said Chuck. “Maybe we’re the Megatropolis Quartet; it’s nineteen letters, at least.”

“But it’s not alliterative,” said Rex, with considerable in consternation.