Okay, this is a really strange story. This is almost Silver Age weirdness level strange, except like all these early stories it’s really short, so you don’t get any explanations. So we’re going to do something special here – the first ‘episode’ of a relaunched version of Thunderian Science Theater.
I started it on my old Thundercats fansite, and those are pretty much gone (although I could put them back up). I started to relaunch it on Livejournal and only did a few, which are now borked because of Photobucket. So here’s take three:
(CN: character death, torture, mental ableism, historical gangs, mild-ish body horror, violence, sexism, toilet humor, swearing, alcohol)
Our Setting:
The Holotheater in Silvercat’s Treehouse Pub. The holotheater is basically a holodeck. Silvercat’s Treehouse Pub is a bar, up in a sequoia-type tree, and has every drink you might want, replicators for any food you want with a small decline in texture and taste, and a grill.
Our characters:
- Me – Silvercat, white and blue tiger person. Snarky, sarcastic, and nitpicky.
- Mya – a Thunderian that’s more cat-like than most of the ones we see (at least in the original series. I didn’t see the relaunch.) She’s an orange tabby. She actually lives with Hachiman and comes to work through the ‘plothole’ that’s generally located on one wall. She’s very nice and tries to think the best of everything, but comes off as a bit naive.
- Felino – a wildcat Thunderian, like Wilykit and Wilykat (he speaks Nyjichun like they do), but from a different tribe. He’s very short, with red hair that he keeps braided in decorative cornrows. He’s also very sarcastic and snarky, and the king of double entendres. He loves to drink, swear, and fight, but under the jerkish exterior, he’s very loyal.
Thunderian Science Theater is like Mystery Science Theater 3000 (obviously.) We make fun of comics and otherwise entertain ourselves. Here we go:
“How did you talk me into this again?” Felino asked, leaning back against the bar where Mya was washing dishes.
Silvercat shrugged, barely looking up from the table where she was making a shopping list from a pile of catalogs. “I’m carrying that beer you said we should? And the first keg is just for you?”
His face lit up. “Oh, right!” He glanced at the door to the Holotheater. “… I’m going to need it, aren’t I?”
“I… plead the fifth.”
Mya cocked her head. “The what?”
“Fifth amendment? Can’t incriminate your-…? Oh, nevermind.”
Mya pulled off her dishwashing gloves. “All done! Are we waiting for a guest reviewer?”
“Nope.” Silver straightened the catalogs. “It’s just us.”
Felino sighed. “And what are we doing?”
“Some Golden Age goodness from 1939, in the form of Detective Comics #34. All I know is that the previous issue, Batman was in France to kill vampires, and he still is. I expect really ridiculous French accents,” Silver said. She punched in the code for the Holotheater. They heard the noises of it warming up and Felino sighed.
“Oh goodie.”
1939 December, Golden Age
Cover Price: 10 cents
Characters: Batman, Bruce Wayne, Duc D’Orterre, Karel Maire, Charles Maire, Bat-plane.
Mya: Wait… If he’s in France, why does he assume that that’s his friend?
Silver: They needed something to start the story and couldn’t think of something actually logical?
Fel: Enough of a shock that Bruce’s head is now ON FIRE!
Mya: Serves him right for grabbing somebody without making sure!
Silver: Time for a-
All: Sudden scene change!
Mya: There are Native Americans in France? With French names? And-
Silver: No.
Fel: To wikipedia!
Mya: Uh… That’s um.
Silver: Really racist?
Mya: Yeah.
[editor’s note: so I can remember that it’s not pronounced A-pa-che, any time our reviewers mention the Apaches, it’s going to be written Apash. Because I can.]
Fel: Yeah. But I want an Apash revolver.
Silver: Moving on…
Fel: What shall you do? Perhaps not run where it’ll be easier for gangsters to get you!
Mya: Is that a normal thing? Accidently sharing a taxi?
Silver: I have no idea. Maybe it was when this was written?
Fel: They swear to kill me, because they’re all jealous of my cleavage!
Silver: We’re all jealous of your cleavage, Fel.
Felino flexes his arms.
Mya: How does he talk if he has no mouth?
Fel: Y’know, I’ve never heard of anyone actually fainting that easily.
Silver: That’s because we have less constrictive undergarments.
Fel looks at her.
Silver: No, really. That’s a main reason women used to swoon all the time. They couldn’t frikking breathe at the best of times.
Fel: That’s- that’s- I don’t even.
Silver: That’s fashion!
Fel: And horrifying.
Silver: Yes!
Mya: Wait, she knows him? She knows him, but she still was freaked out enough to faint?
Silver: She’s having a rough day.
Mya: Well, yeah, but… think of how he must feel!
Fel: So far as we know, he hasn’t had a knife thrown at him today.
All: HOW DOES THAT WORK?
Fel: I’ve seen some awful shit, but you can’t just turn someone’s face into a blank mask! There’s bone and cartilage and shit there!
Silver: Magic!
Mya: Which also explains the sunlight beaming into ‘his unearthly den in the sewers.’
Fel: Because she’s of the same value as money!
Silver: Probably less!
Fel: Of course!
Facepalms all around.
Fel: I can’t even.
Mya: I can! There’s a random American! Who totally isn’t a famous American superhero! Even though they’re the same height and have the same chin! Because magic!
Silver: Yes!
(Batman goes to explore in the sewers and is attacked. He orders them to take them to their leader.)
Silver: And there’s our stereotypical French guy!
Mya: So… it’s really magic?
Fel (with really bad French accent): No, no, majeek, mi ami.
Silver stares at him a moment.
Silver: No. We are not doing Monty Python-esque French accents. It’s not happening.
Fel: I was going more for Claremont…
Silver: That’s not better.
Mya: Um, why does he have pointy ears? This is the second Batman villain to randomly have pointy ears. Is that supposed to be shorthand for evil?
Silver: Probably, because it’s more animal-like?
Mya feels her pointy ears.
Mya (in a small voice): I’m not evil.
Fel: So… not so much ‘wheel of chance’ as ‘wheel of this is really going to suck.’
Silver: Wheel of bodily fluids. Because there will be puking, before anything else.
Mya: Ew.
Fel: Because fuck physics.
Silver: Hey, he’s Batman. He can totally resist the motion!
Mya: ‘Jump’? As you weren’t already thrown off?
Fel: Like I said. Fuck physics a lot.
Silver: I think it’s about time to start drinking.
Mya: I’d like some tea!
Fel: Not the drink we were thinking.
Mya: … ohhhhh. Yeah. I’ll be right back.
Fel: It’s not just me, right? This makes no sense, right?
Silvercat shrugs.
Fel: Because if it was Poison Ivy or someone-
Silver: Hellfern?
Fel: … No.
He rolls his eyes.
Fel: Poison Ivy or someone, that could make sense. But I’m not seeing the logical progression here.
Mya comes back with a glass of beer for Fel, a cocktail for Silver, and a bottle of sake for herself.
Silver: Thanks.
Fel: … good question, Bruce.
Everyone takes a big drink. Silver looks at Mya.
Silver: Did you slip absinthe in this? Or… LSD?
Mya: No. Um. Maybe they’re the faces he stole from people?
Fel: But they all seem to be girls. Some explanation would be helpful.
Silver: Want to take bets on whether we’ll get one?
Fel: Not really, no.
Fel: Wait. Wait, wait… Didn’t Karel leave her home to get away? Shouldn’t they be hiding?
Mya: The Apashes are just really, really good at keeping track of people?
Silver: Although admittedly, it shouldn’t be that hard to ask around for ‘the guy with a blank face. No, like seriously non-existent blank. Have you seen him?’
Fel (nodding): Oui, oui, and un belle wit’ ze cleavage magnificant.
Silver: And obviously, Fel, you don’t speak French.
Fel: Not even remotely.
Mya: We can tell.
Fel: Seriously, what the fuck?
Silver: Pretty sure it’s the power of plot device. Gotta keep things moving!
Mya: Um, I think there are more logical methods. Like, a prisoner…
Silver: A gang member turning traitor…
Fel: Talking rats…
Silver: Talking walls.
Mya: Yes, any of those.
(Batman walks back through the door to the wheel room as the wheel begins to turn with. Charles yells for help)
Fel: And No-Face barfs all over Batman.
Mya: And never gets treated for his whiplash.
Silver: Wait, did his coat and hat just suddenly appear out of nowhere?
Mya: I think he had it before? Can we back it up?
Felino points.
Fel: No, it was blue.
Mya: Maybe it was in shadow?
Silver: … really? Do we really care? Maybe a talking flower puked on it.
Fel: Oh. Probably it was dyed from No-Face’s puke.
Mya: … No. That’s not how it works. No.
Felino shrugs.
Silver: Yay, bat-gyro! Which he totally didn’t steal from the Shadow!
Fel: Yes, he did.
Silver: Yes, he did, but I’ll let it go.
(Batman discovers his prey and sets the automatic controls of his gyrocopter)
Silver: And there’s our money shot.
All: Woo!
Mya: Good job, Karel!
Silver: … hey, the sky is actually lightening appropriately for them to be approaching sunrise. Good job colorist.
Fel: Bad job writer.
Mya: Um… where did Karel go?
Silver: And why is that car interior so huge?
(Their struggle unbalances the car… somehow… and it goes careening off the bridge)
Fel: Duc, you gotta fire that driver.
Mya (as Karel): I mean, obviously we know you’re Bruce. You weren’t really subtle about it, but I’m being polite.
Fel (as Bruce): What?! What do you mean?! I’m a completely different American of the same height and build and totally don’t sound at all like Bruce Wayne with a cold!
Mya (as Karel, patronizingly): Yes, of course you are.
They all roll their eyes and leave the theater.
“That wasn’t as bad as it could have been…” Felino said.
Silver eyed him. “So you’re willing to do another one?”
“Do I get more beer out of it?”
“No.”
“Then no.” He drained his glass and pours another one.
*twang*
“Am I going mad?”
Icons:
As always, use however you want, preferably crediting Silvercat and DC Comics.
Credits: Gardner Fox (writer), Bob Kane and Sheldon Moldoff (pencillers), Bob Kane (inker), Sheldon Moldoff (letterer) Full credits thanks to the Grand Comics Database.
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