Black Terror, Duel-Devil and the Arrow are preparing to launch an assault on the
trio that kidnapped Duel-Devil's young friends, the Little Wise Guys.
They realize they cannot run in with the proverbial guns a blazing.
All that would accomplish is getting the Wise Guys killed. Arrow is inspecting the scene with binoculars.
"This needs to be a stealth operation. Get in, get the kids and get
out. The biggest threat is my old enemy the Missile Miser. He may look like a walking stove, but he has more fire power than a small army."
"You don't have to tell me twice, Arrow. If not for him, I could have
saved the Wise Guys last time."
Black Terror decides to speak.
"I'll handle the Missile Miser. I'm not invulnerable, but I can take
whatever that walking heap can dish out."
"What about Gentleman Brute? He's way outside of me and Arrow's weight
"Don't worry DD, Brute is so concerned with being proper, he won't lay a velvet
glove on you."
Inside the warehouse, Missile Miser grows impatient.
"WHY ARE WE HERE?!"
"I do say old sport, I simply cannot understand a word you are
saying through that speaker box. Could you remove your helmet?"
"IT IS A LOT OF TROUBLE TO REMOVE THE HELMET!!! THAT'S WHY IT
HAS A SPEAKER BOX!!!"
Fright Mancer understands him less than Gentleman Brute.
"What did you say Miser?"
A red arrow lands in the center of the trio and releases a cloud of smoke.
"WHAT THE DEVIL?!?"
"It's the Corners, quickly lets settle this with class and dignity."
Missile Miser's arm pops out a large fan that clears the smoke away.
He sees the red and blue costumed Duel-Devil has taken out the thugs guarding the children.
The thrusters in his boots fire up and he charges at the Master of Fear.
"NOT SO FAST DEVIL!!!"
The Miser fires a cannonball at Duel-Devil. But before it can land, it
is intercepted by the Black Terror.
"Think this belongs to you Miser."
He throws the cannonball at Miser, sending him into the warehouse wall.
The Arrow meanwhile is occupied with Gentleman Brute. His sharpest shafts have
bounced off of him.
"Those accursed arrows have torn my good tuxedo. With your boorish nature, I
would not be surprised if you were a Yale Man."
Just like Black Terror predicted, even enraged Gentleman Brute refuses to
abandon his dignified airs. He attempts to land several technically proficient
punches. If this were a boxing match under Marquess of Queensbury rules, the
Arrow would be knocked out.
But this is a street fight. Something that suits CIA Agent Ralph Payne (The
Arrow) better than Gentleman Brute.
Duel-Devil has untied the Little Wise Guys.
"Boys get outta here. I know you want to help. but this fight is too
dangerous for you. These are not ordinary gangsters."
"C'mon DD, remember when we helped you bop the Moonshiner?"
"This isn't the same Curly. Now move it!! Arrrgghhh"
As Daredevil was giving the Little Wise Guys instructions. He felt a
piercing pain in his lower back.
Jock the oldest Wise Guy takes charge.
"Fellas lets move it. We can't help Duel-Devil like this."
Duel-Devil is struggling to stand up. He stupidly forgot about Fright Mancer.
"Hello Devil. I didn't tell you the retractable blade in my baton
could be shot?."
Duel-Devil punches Fright Mancer in the gut and headbutts him. Then tackles him
into a packing crate.
"Maybe If you didn't announce your every move Mancer, I'd be dead already!!"
Fright Mancer hits Duel-Devil with a uppercut to the chin. Before kicking him in
the gut. He tries to bash him with his baton, but DD blocks it with
Gentleman Brute is growing frustrated. Until he headbutts the Arrow in
the face, shattering his nose. Arrow's blood is all over the warehouse floor.
"Oh dear, I must have slipped during the skirmish. So sorry."
"Yeah me too."
Arrow fires a flame arrow at Gentleman Brute. The hulking man of
leisure is set a blaze. Though he can't quite burn, his instinct is too panic.
"Calm down old boy, calm down. It will all work out as long as you do
Which is a sound strategy. Until he sees the Arrow fire an explosive
arrow above his head, bringing the ceiling down on his head.
The Missile Miser has unloaded his chain gun on the Black Terror. But thanks to
the formula Bob Benton (The Terror) ingested a decade ago, the bullets merely sting.
He slowly but surely moves toward the Missile Miser. Finally within
arms reach of the Miser, he dents the thirty year old battle armor.
"GET YOUR HANDS OFF MY EQUIPMENT!!"
The Miser activates the fire extinguisher and fires the foam into the
Terror's eyes. Miser decides it is time to flee, and flies thru the ceiling.
A trail of blood follows Duel-Devil. His fight with the Fright
Mancer has been mostly even. But he needs medical attention.
Now like two gun fighters in Dodge City. Duel-Devil and the Fright
Mancer are in a quick draw dual. Both men with their hands on their weapons. Devil his boomerang and Mancer his baton. Both men wear mask that make it impossible to read their faces.
At nearly the same time they release their weapons. Devil due to
blood loss is a second off, and is knocked out by the Baton of Fright Mancer.
Before Mancer can land a killing blow, an arrow flies past his head.
"Next one won't miss."
Both men are distracted by the sound of Missile Miser crashing thru
the ceiling in his escape. In that split second, Fright Mancer also escapes.
A squad of firemen, paramedics and policemen come into the warehouse lead by
the Little Wiseguys.
"Oh geez, there's DD!!!"
Five Hours later.
The police and firemen are long gone. All that is left is a burned and damaged
warehouse. The floor covered in the blood of heroes.
A man walks in with a slight limp. His body to the naked eye is
decayed and long dead, it is Professor Necro.
"Seems I was right in recruiting that trio. I had to be careful with
this. If I picked wrongly. They would have been easily defeated by the Corners. Or worse they would have killed them."
With a wave of his hand, Necro collects the blood of Duel-Devil and the Arrow.
Putting it into an ancient urn.
"Hmm, the Black Terror did not bleed. I was afraid of that. This is
not a worry. I'll find another way."
Professor Necro limps out of the warehouse.