League of Superfellas Issue 1

THE LEAGUE OF SUPERFELLAS

Issue #1

“...Whatever you do... is your super power. ... Whatever you do--whatever makes you--you. That’s your power.”
-Gwen Stacy, Ultimate Spider-man Issue #14


Sugar tastes good. Sugar is in candy. Kids will come back again and again to be able to eat solid sugar. Although, generally this theory is true, Granny Smith was starting to doubt.
Granny Smith, owner of the candy store of the same name, sat behind her desk, busily contemplating the meaning of the universe. She had nothing else to do. Business was slow as all the kids were either in school or supposed to be. She took her glasses off her face and wiped them with a rag.
The bell above the door ringed and the door’s fuzzy shape swung open, but she saw no one come in. She replaced her glasses on her face, and then she saw it: a ball floating in the air.
At first it seemed like it was floating by itself, but upon a second look she found that it was attached to a spring. Whatever the deely-bobber was attached to, however, was hidden from sight.
She leaned to look over the counter and saw… something go over and grab all of the candy off of her shelf! The thing waddled over to the counter and looked up at her.
She took off of her glasses and it continued to look up at her with its big, cartoony eyes. She blinked her eyes and the thing was gone.


Trench lay on his bunk and stared blankly off into space. He was out of uniform at the moment, which simply meant that he was out of his coat. His shaggy brown hair fell limply down onto his hands as he slowly rocked his head back and forth in his hands, making outer space move around a lot.
His room-mate was not in the room at the moment, which made him glad. Out of the five to six members of Team 24, he was stuck with Pyro Boy. Karl was a great kid, but he was just that: a kid. As a cop Trench had handed out sports cards to kids older than him.
Even though them being roomies was supposed to make them “better pals”, so far it had only proved how much they hated each other.
Trench got up from the bed and walked over to his closet. He dug a key-card out of his pocket and slid it through a slot that was on the wall. A slight humming started and gradually grew louder.
Because so many of their members had powers that branched from different pieces of equipment, the big cheeses of LSF had decided to install a remote armory access network. Each person was given a key-card, with which he could access his and only his item from any room in the building.
A wall panel slid open and there was Trench’s namesake: his trench-coat. He slid it onto his self and looked in the mirror. Stylish as ever, Trench thought.
Not everybody knew it, but this was not just any trench-coat. Trench stood back, and then slowly walked forward.
“I’m sorry, sir, but I’m going to have to check you for any concealed weaponry,” Trench said.
“Go ahead officer,” Trench replied and quickly frisked himself. “I ain’t got nothing to hide.”
“Nothing here up my sleeves, and…” he reached into his coat. “Presto!” he yelled as he pulled out two large machine guns out of his coat.
He went over to a window and let in some fresher air. He took the machine guns and threw them out of the window, only to have them disappear in wisps of smoke upon hitting the ground.
“I’m sorry, officer. Couldn’t you find anything?”


Captain Charisma stood in front of his mirror, admiring his impeccable teeth. Each one was brushed, flossed, and vacuumed at least five times a day and they were whiter than white itself. Or at least white than that egg-shell white that some people buy as a paint color.
He had other powers, but this was by far his favorite. His teeth, although not technically superpowers, were his pride and joy, and if there were any way that he could hug them he would do it every waking hour of the day. He never got tired of looking at himself in the mirror and practicing his smile.
Captain Charisma gracefully flew up to his bunk, the top one, as if suspended by invisible wires. His cape waved in the breeze and the wind hit his face, but he was careful not to let it hit his teeth. That could yellow them.
He shared his room with Uber Geek, who was currently in his “den”. Sometimes Captain Charisma wondered what he did in there. There was always a steady rhythm of beeps, whirs, and other mechanical sounds coming from his room-mate’s bunk.
Captain Charisma sometimes envied him, being something of a simple man mechanically. The most advanced peace of machinery he’d ever used was a blender, and even then he sometimes needed help.
Uber Geek may be good with computers, Captain Charisma thought, but I have something he never will: perfect teeth.


Uber Geek sat on his bunk, his “den”, and rapidly switched from computer to computer, his hands flying over each keyboard as he came to it.
He had all of the schematics for the Olympian Tower and could easily hack into each and every one of their computer systems: database, security systems. Everything the Guard knew, he knew.
He sat back on the part of his bunk used for humans and pictured it: the LSF rushing into the Tower and casting the hypocrites out of their own B.O.D. Uber Geek chuckled.
That day will come.


Pyro boy slunk around the hallway in his socks. Most of the members were out on missions right now, which meant no lectures for not having his shoes on.
He stopped in the hall and looked up: an air vent. Stupid grin. He created a little fire underneath him, creating an updraft that carried him up to it, and also burned his Spider-man underwear.
He pushed himself up and into the air vent, impish grin still slapped on his face from ear to ear.


Trench woke quickly and jumped up from his bed, hitting his head on the top bunk. After rubbing his head for a couple seconds, he sniffed the air. It smells like smoke in here, he observed. It’s getting’ hotter.
He looked up at the vent grate that glared back at him from the ceiling.
“Pyro Boy!” he called out in anger. He only heard a slow shuffling sound moving away.


Grey Mage sat in the medical facilities of LSF head-quarters. Because of her several healing powers, she spent more time there than she did in her actual quarters. She was never alone, however. There was always a steady stream of the sick, the wounded, and others who needed her help.
Even as she went about her duties, she was always deep in thought, at the moment about her team. Although she was not technically a member of any team, each of the “additional personnel” were responsible for briefing a specific team, number 24 in her case.
She stretched out her hand and healed a patient, then, seeing that there was no one else who needed someone with her level of capability, she went into her office, leaving the rest of the patients to those under her.
She collapsed into a chair and let out a deep sigh. Although she was only in her late forties, a long life as a super-heroin had already started wearing her out.
She remembered her golden age. She had-
Beebeep beep! The droning sound coming from the intercom told her that there was a message. She checked the display.
“Oh.” She hit the ‘answer’ button. “Hello?”
“Team 24, we have a mission for you.”


Trench, Captain Charisma, Uber Geek and Pyro Boy each piled into the briefing room, where Grey Mage already sat. Captain Charisma and Uber Geek sat in the middle, separating Trench and Pyro Boy. Now they could only hurt each other if looks could kill.
Finally, after they were all seated, Grey Mage began their briefing. “The Granny Smith Sugar-stuffed Confections... has been robbed,” she informed them.
Trench scoffed. “Some candy joint got knocked? Can’t the cops pick up these milk runs?”
Grey Mage stared him down before continuing. “The police refused to pick up the case, as did the Guard. The circumstances seemed rather... outlandish. They both wrote her off as psychotic. They thought that she was seeing things.”
“So some schizo gets mugged and we have to pick up the tab?” Trench was not happy. It seemed like ever since they had each joined the LSF nothing had happened, and their observations weren’t changing at the moment.
Grey Mage opened her mouth to retort, but stopped herself. Sometimes the best ways for new recruits to learn was on the case. “You can question the subject when you get there.”
Trench opened his mouth, but they had all had quite enough of that. Captain Charisma cut him to the quick. “If they suspected schizophrenia, why didn’t they lock her up?”
Grey Mage shrugged. “They had insufficient evidence for placing her under custody.” There was a long silence, then finally Grey Mage spoke up again. “You’ll be taking vehicle number nine.”
That sunk in to everybody, and they sadly walked out the door. Pyro Boy was the only one who lingered behind. He waddled over to Grey Mage and tugged on her shirt sleeve.
“Can I have some candy money?”


Captain Charisma peeked around the corner from out of a dark alleyway. Good. No one’s coming, he thought. He strode over to vehicle nine, his strides extra long because of his flight power.
Captain Charisma quickly entered the vehicle and shut the door. He looked around. Had anybody seen him? Nobody: good.
Because of the lack of conventional superpowers of many of the LSF’s members, they stocked a full load of vehicles. However, they needed to buy them cheap, and not buying was not an option.
That is how they got stuck with the hippy-mobile. It was a nickname given to a van sold to the LSF for cheap by a bunch of pacifists from the eighties. It had a pink exterior with sky blue flowers painted all over it. Captain Charisma shuttered just thinking about it.
After the team was all piled into the van, they headed towards their destination: Granny Smith’s Sugar-stuffed Confections.
All of the members tried to stay low to avoid detection, Pyro Boy all the while jingling coins in his pocket.


Granny Smith was still on the job, though slightly shaken from the incident the day before. She looked about constantly, determined to make sure that no cartoon characters stole her candy. Yes siree.
The bell rang and she ducked behind the counter. “Take it! Take what you want! Just don’t hurt me.”
Captain Charisma tried to reassure her. “We aren’t going to take your candy.” (Shucks, Pyro Boy thought). “We’re just here to investigate the... strange occurrences from a few days ago.”
She peeped up over the counter. “You... you’re not going to take my candy?”
“Not unless you want us to.”
She was silent for a long while. “I suppose that you’re here to investigate what happened, hm?”
Captain Charisma nodded in agreement. “Would you mind if we took a look around?” She agreed, and each member of the team went to work.
Uber Geek wheeled out his large collection of gadgets and gizmos. Captain Charisma eyed each of them. With this many of them, he thought, I bet only half of them work.
Pyro Boy helped Captain Charisma. They both searched each of the boxes of candy not yet on the shelf that sat in the back room.
Trench, taking full use of his police training, questioned (although he preferred the word “interrogated”) the “witness”.
Trench pulled a pencil and paper out of his coat in an earnest attempt to appear professional. “A’right. Could you describe the perpetrator?”
“Well, his body was sort of egg-shaped, and he had socks (that were way too big) on his hands... and his feat.”
Trench doodled on his notepad, giving the illusion that he was actually taking notes.
“Did you see which way he went after the thing left?”
“Well, it didn’t actually leave.” Trench just stared, waiting for an explanation and a reason not to make the cops lock her up. “I just sort of closed my eyes and it was gone.”
Trench turned the page on his “note” pad, drew a picture of her that looked like a two-year old drew it, and walked over to Captain Charisma, thanking her for her help. Help. As if she’s given us any, he thought.
The Good Cap’n was still busy searching through boxes when Trench finished. “What did you find out?”
“Not’in’ new, really,” he reported in his thick Bronx accent. “I just remembered what a nut-job we’re dealin’ wit’.”
Captain Charisma walked over to check up on Uber Geek’s progress. “Have you found anything yet?”
“Nothing: No traces of any radiation, all thermal readings are normal, and there aren’t any apparent energy readings in the immediate vicinity.”
Captain Charisma paused for a second, trying to figure out what language he was speaking. “So... you found nothing.”
“Nothing.”
“Okay.”
Captain Charisma walked back to Pyro Boy. “Have you found anything yet?”
“Candy!”
“Down boy. We’re on a mission, there’s no time for sweets-swipin’.”
“Well, I found this.” Pyro Boy held up a piece of fuzz. “I found it on the ground.”
Uber Geek walked in and examined it. “It’s cotton.”
Captain Charisma deciphered that. “So, someone was running around in his socks.”
Trench butted in. “That doesn’t prove not’in’. That just means that some weirdo was in here. It coitanly doesn’t prove da schizo’s story.”
A ringing sound came from the door, and Trench instinctively looked to the door out of the corner of his eye. Granny Smith ducked under the counter and yelled, “It’s the egg!”