Captain Catastrophe stood atop a pile of rubble, starring into the eyes of Havoc as the last of the DeFender Guard stood behind him. This was the big one, the fight that would decide the future of the decades to come. They had even called heros out of retirement to fight. He looked over at Gymnast Lee. Catastrophe gave him an almost imperceivable nod. Lee nodded back. He had put new tennis balls on his walker and he was itching to use them.

Catastrophe turned his attention back to the mechanical monstrosity that sat before him, a giant spider, and behind it and on the surrounding buildings were other creature creations, each tailored to their supervillain counterpart. Like the dung beetle rig being piloted by Pumpkin Gourd, whose power was to spawn pumpkin headed minions. In a downtown setting, his power was almost useless without dirt, but with his own supply of manure that reached two stories high he could spawn an army. Or the Scorpion being piloted by Vienna Sausage. Whose Scorpion rig was outfitted to spin fire from its whip-like tail. There were others, many others.

“Ok Havoc, this ends here.” Catastrophe screamed up at the spider, because the clear glass cockpit had fogged up and Catastrophe wasn’t quite sure Havoc was still in there.

A small squeaking followed from Havoc, using his arm to create a portal in the condensation coated glass.

“I’m sorry, could you repeat that? I was trying to find the environmental controls.”

“I was saying that this ends here.” Catastrophe pointed to the pile of rubble beneath his feet.

“He also called you Havoc,” added the Mad Pharmacist, who was riding a giant turtle with a clear shell filled with some kind of purple liquid.

“Thats Major to you, Captain,” responded Havoc.

“You only called yourself that so that you would out rank the Captain.” yelled Camo Joe.

Squeak, squeak, squeak. More cleaning of the window by Havoc. “Doesn’t matter, it’s not like his is a real rank either.”

Captain’s team turned toward him, Catastrophe hung his head and let out a sigh. “Look, marketing said the name tested really well, and it was either that or Masculine Man because no one was going to endorse Pew-Meister.” More silence. “You know because I shoot laser beams out of my eyes.” Even more silence. Catastrophe let out another sigh. “This is exactly why I hired that marketing team.

Squeak, squeak, squeak. More cleaning. “Can you all hold on and let me find that button for the air vents? I want to have a clear picture when he starts crying,” Havoc said, followed by rapid movement in his cab that was quickly being covered up by more fog accumulating on the dome. There was a loud click, and a beep followed by a long moment where there was nothing at all. “Oh, no. That’s not the one I wanted.”