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The February 2022 Multiversity Superdraft!


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Final pick is our Crew, tools of the Antagonist.

 

What I wanted to do was assemble a graphic as has been in the "One has to go" thread, which is a composite of four large poultry-packing corporations here in the US.  My source is here.  Tyson Foods, Cargill Meat Solutions, Sysco Corp, Pilgrim's, Hormel, Perdue Farms, ....

 

Our title: Rage of Poultry

 

(OT: my son works at Costco.  His job?  He's the guy who skewers the chickens and puts them in the big rotisserie, to be sold for $4.99 per bird hot off the skewer.  Am I drafting him too?  ...  Mmmmmmmmmmmaybe.... )

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Foxbat hadn’t even intended to be in Detroit on the big day. But something had gone south (or north, as the case may be) with his latest Master Plan™, so he was in Detroit.

 

It was the day that changed his entire life. 

 

When Doctor Destroyer attacked the city that day, Foxbat found himself quickly pressed into service by Quantum. She had him directing traffic, helping people get out of the city. He did it for hours. In time, the city was like a ghost town—except for all the explosions downtown. He ventured closer.

 

By the time he arrived, Defender was the only Champion still standing. Destroyer had him by the throat and seemed intent on crushing the life out of him. But before Foxbat could get close enough to do anything, Defender reached up and activated something in the breastplate of his armor. A painfully bright green-white light overcame everything. When he could finally see again, Foxbat saw Defender lying on the ground next to the few smoldering scraps of what had been Doctor Destroyer and his armor. Defender wasn’t moving. 

 

Foxbat made his way to the fallen hero, unsure what he should do. Was he still alive? Could he be helped? As he came close, Foxbat could hear ragged, shallow breaths. Defender yet lived.

 

“Defender? Can you hear me?”

 

“I … hear you. Is it done? Is Doctor Destroyer beaten?”

 

“Yeah, he’s done. I’m pretty sure he’s never going to bother anyone ever again.”

 

“Then it ... worked.” He let out  a sigh of relief. Foxbat found himself hoping he wasn’t witnessing Defender’s last breath.

 

After a moment, Defender continued. “With Destroyer gone, we can rebuild. What is your name, friend?”

 

“I’m the Fa….” He thought better of it. “I’m Freddie.”

 

“Freddie,” Defender struggled to say. “I am glad to have you here with me, at the end.”

 

“Hey, now, none of that talk. We need to get you to a hospital.”

 

“I will never make it to a hospital. I should already be dead. The fact that I lived long enough to meet you … I take it as a sign. There should be a detachable module on my right hip. Do you see it?”

 

“Um, yes.”

 

“Take it.”

 

“I’m not sure you should be giving this to me.”

 

“There’s no time … for anyone else. Take it.”

 

“Okay, I have it.”

 

“Good. It’s done. Now I can … rest.”

 

“Um, Defender, what is it?”

 

“The future, Freddie. The fut….” He said no more.

 

Freddie arose slowly, numbed by what he had just witnessed. Not knowing what else to do, he went home.

 

In the coming days, Freddie discovered that his unlikely inheritance contained plans—plans for a new city, for defeating nearly every known supervillain (including himself!), for legal and civic and social plans to prevent what had happened in Detroit from ever happening anywhere else. And it contained a full set of schematics for a new, more advanced, more powerful set of armor. 

 

It was a revelation.

 

This, this is what it was all really about, Freddie thought to himself. This is what fate had in mind for me all along. This is my future! Not a villain, but a hero! Not to steal or conquer, but to lead and help and rebuild! I’ve been such an idiot! Why did I never see this before?

 

So Freddie threw himself into his new role with reckless abandon. The intellect that had created all of his old gadgets quickly grasped the new designs. Within just a few months, he had built himself a small fortune—through legal means, no less—and a suit of powered armor based on Defender’s specs. Now was his time to shine, to be a beacon to those who needed to see the light. Now was the day of Foxbat, the Defender!

 

Quote: “There is no place in this fair city for criminals like you! Surrender, or I’ll hit you with something a lot worse than a ping pong ball!”

 

Variant #2: Foxbat Defender

 
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He was a harmless loon who occasionally indulged in implausible (but ultimately impotent) criminal schemes.

 

She was a clinical psychiatrist and criminal who was coming off an abusive relationship that she herself had ended—with prejudice.

 

They met in the unlikeliest comics crossover event of all.

 

It was love at first sight.

 

They settled down and largely retired from the supers game. They had a beautiful daughter that they told nothing about their previous lives. 

 

She eventually found out anyway, of course.

 

She was mad at first, naturally. Her parents had always taught her to be a good kid, to do the right thing. How could they have been supervillains?!

 

But the more she thought about it, she came to respect what they had done. Maybe neither of them was really cut out to be a hero, but they had at least refrained from being villains any more. Maybe that was good enough.

 

That didn’t mean she couldn’t be a hero herself, though. Or a villain, if she so chose. 

 

She’s still deciding.

 

Quote: “You’re a problem, you know that? Well, I have a ping pong ball gun and a cartoonishly large collapsible mallet, and I’m trying to decide which one to use to solve your problem. Any suggestions?”

 

Variant #3: Foxquinn 
 

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Foxbat was looking over the results of his latest Master Plan™. The spoils included a sea-foam green prom dress, a 1987 Yugo, a case of frozen skirt steaks, a concrete statue of the Buddha spray-painted gold, three one-gallon bottles of antifreeze, some gaudy costume jewelry, and $137.58 in cash.

 

He was ecstatic. “Best. Master. Plan. EVAH!”

 

Oh, but there appeared to be something else in the shipping container: an unremarkable wooden mask. And there appeared to be some kind of carving on the interior side, which he had no way of knowing was an inscription to Loki, the Nordic god of mischief.

 

He put the mask to his face and found himself … transformed.

 

Ssssmokin’! 

 

Quote: “Somebody stop me! No, seriously, somebody stop me before I destroy New Jersey! Ah, what the heck? It’s just New Jersey….”
 

Variant #4: The Foxmask

 

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"They represent a threat to everything we're trying to build here. They have to be stopped. Regardless of the cost."

 

"That's a little extreme, don't you think?"

 

"'Think' is what I do. It's where I excel. And it's why I'm in charge of this team. So I don't need you trying to do it too."

 

"They're harmless misfits."

 

"They're a tinderbox of chaos, and I can't have that in my city. Not in my world. Go out and take care of them."

 

"You're the boss."

 

Antagonist: Nighthawk (specifically the version appearing in the Avengers Assemble animated series)

 

AA_Nh_6.gif

 

Crew: The Squadron Supreme (ibid)

 

av23.jpg?fit=3264,2448&ssl=1

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"Hey, you!"

 

Foxbat stopped what he was doing and looked around. He saw nobody. Nevertheless, he had been called, so he was fated to answer. "Who, me?"

 

"Of course you! Who did you think I was talking to, the readers?"

 

Foxbat's jaw dropped in amazement. "You ... you can see them too?"

 

"Yeah, but don't tell anyone. They'll think I'm nuts."

 

He nodded in what he thought must be the direction of his unseen companion. "Yeah, I get that a lot."  He paused for a moment, then asked, "Well, are you?"

 

"Am I what?"

 

"Nuts? Are you crazy? Insane? Delusional?  Not in possession of your faculties? Three fires short of a Happy Mean? Wacko?!"

 

"Well, yeah, but that's not important right now. What is important right now is that I need you to stop."

 

"To stop what?"

 

"Whatever it is you're doing right now."

 

"How do you know what I'm doing right now? I don't even know what I'm doing right now."

 

"Eh, I cheated and looked ahead a few pages. You have to stop."

 

"Why, will there be a disastrous failure?"

 

"No, you and your variants will be a huge success."

 

"Oh," Foxbat said, genuinely puzzled. "Um, why is that a problem?"

 

"Because that success is mine! I'm the one destined to be remembered fondly for the rest of time, not you!"

 

Foxbat considered for a moment. "No, I don't think I can do that. I don't think we can do that. There are important, world-changing events afoot! And we must rise to meet them!"

 

"No! I must do it! I'm the here here!"

 

"Hey, we're heroes, too!"

 

The other seemed unconvinced, and unimpressed.

 

"Well, we're heroic! Ish. And besides, this is my series. You wanna be the hero, go get your own series!"

 

"What? Do you really....?"

 

"Sorry, imaginary voice, but we've got things to do. Ta ta!" and with that, Freddie hung up the imaginary pay phone on which he'd been having the conversation. "Things to do, things to do...."

 

He was stunned. Shushed by Foxbat! the ignominity! The humiliation! Oh, Foxbat would pay! He would pay so much!

 

Crew (actually rival/secondary antagonist): Ambush Bug

 

1888831-ambush_bug.jpg

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