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boxmorelover232 · 4 months

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B:TB&TB Episode Rewrite - Death Race to Oblivion!

Summary: Mongul forces heroes and villains alike to race against Steppenwolf for Earth's survival.

An AU where Clock King is in the race. This time around, however, things play out slightly differently from the Canon.

Cold Open

We open on a panning above-shot of Star City, scoping through the area before landing on a typical one-story house in a nice neighborhood. Switching in the house's interior, we pan through the residence, spotting numerous knickknacks and well-worn furniture before stopping in the master bedroom, its door opened ajar. Turning to the sliding closet, the door opens automatically and reveals the standard business suits seen on ordinary nine-to-five workers in shades of brown and black; there's one suit in a boring gray that stands out near the end of the closet. Its hanger is angled so the entire front is visible to the casual viewer.

A hand pushes the gray suit away, revealing a keypad with unknown symbols instead of numbers. The hand presses the buttons, each press eliciting a small beep, and displaying a strong familiarity with this routine. A small mic pops out of the keypad, and a computerized voice asks, "Bitte sagen Sie den Satz."

"Kleine Schwester," Came the response, the voice husky. The keypad lighting up a bright neon green signified it accepted the passcode. A few whirring sounds followed, and the floor just below the keypad extended up; railings were formed within seconds, creating a small box that assured safety for a maximum of one passenger. Perhaps two, if both participants were willing to squeeze in close.

The person opened the entrance gate and stepped inside, closing and locking the metal bars behind him. A stomp at the corner of the box was all it took before the person began descending down the floor. Once the figure had descended below the surface, the tiling extended outward and covered the secret entrance from prying eyes.

Underground, the person in the crafted elevator tapped his fingers on the metal handrails as he hummed a tune to himself. It was a little off-key, and the lyrics were different- made especially for his dear younger sister- but it was a melody he held dear to his heart. Hänschen klein, if he remembers right. His mother sang the original version to him during his youth; if he closed his eyes and focused, he could still faintly remember his mutti's singing. How he missed her...

Once the elevator jerked to a stop- he made a mental note to fix that- he unclasped the gate lock and stepped out into the wide-opened underground area. He smelled the air, letting it out in a breath; the air was stale, apart from the faint fragrances of vanilla and pine from the scented candles he used during last week's blackout.

"Anozer day, anozer tune-up," Running a hand through his combed-back locks, the man strode towards the locker perched between the haphazardly cut walls of the cavern and (one of many) thick wooden support beams keeping his home from sinking. His mind was already racing with thoughts of what he could perform while working on his motorbike: adjust the air pressure in the wheels, fine-tune the controls, maybe finally install that new tech-reading feature he'd finished just before his last "vacation", and so on and so forth.

Opening the locker door, a dark set of work clothes (overalls, gloves, a thick welder jacket, and dirty boots) greeted him. The overalls and gloves were well-worn, the former housing a few thick patches of mismatching cloth from areas wearing too thin, and the boots' tread was near-nonexistent, but they were the same working garb he'd worn for over a decade. The clothes's familiarity bestowed a sense of comfort to the man, who'd been waiting all day to close up shop for this. He thanked the heavens that it was his day job's half-day.

After changing from his work clothes into his working clothes, a gleam caught the man's eye, looking into the small mirror plastered on the inside of the locker door. Staring at the reflective surface, the man locked eyes with his reflection. For a long moment, the man absorbed his appearance, taking in every detail.

Short black hair with the exceptions of gray streaks that appeared not long after his parents' death (and had gotten worse after his sister passed) and the dyed tuft of brown hair he adopted after a night of heavy drinking, thick black eyebrows trimmed just this morning, a waxed black mustache resting below a wide nose, round cheekbones popping from the rest of his rounded head, and large light blue eyes gazed back at him. Worry lines decorated his face, most prominent between his eyebrows and under the corners of his lips, even when he wasn't emoting. If he furrowed his brows or smiled too wide, he could see Crow's Feet forming at his eyes's corners.

Taking another breath, the man continued staring at his reflection and repeated his personal mantra. It had been heavily altered from the Family Motto his father had stressed during his life, but it held a special place in his heart regardless.

"Time vaits for no vone," He gripped the side of his locker, glancing at an old photo of his family, just after they had come to the States and his baby sister had been born. "As time flows by, Im Laufe der Zeit, ve must all march on."

Closing the locker door, his voice was a mere whisper as he finished.

"Even I must move on, as Villiam Tockman und as ze Clock King."

Main Story

This is not how William wanted his day to go.

One minute, he had been changing into his Villain identity's threads and reviewing his plans to rob Star City's newest History of Clocks exhibit in the museum (specifically for that fancy clock made in Germany during the First World War), and the next thing William knew, he was standing in the middle of what he presumed to be a desert along with some of the best and worst of the Heroes and Villains. William was thankful he'd just put his helmet on before he was teleported away, otherwise, everyone would be getting a good look at his mused hair and sweaty face from hours of previous work. Glancing around, William did a headcount of who was there.

For the Heroes, there was Batman (of course), Green Arrow, the other Green Lantern, Huntress, Plastic Man, and a stout rotund man in desperate need of a wardrobe overhaul. Seriously, who in their right mind would wear a green shirt with black polka-dots and a wide-brimmed hat? The Villains, not including himself. had Black Manta, Catwoman, Gentleman Ghost, and the Joker.

Vhy? Vhy did zat insane Schweinhund have to be here? William seethed, before sighing. Ah, vell. At least Manta is here.

William was about to call out to the swimwear-clad man when he noticed everyone's vehicles teleporting directly behind them; William's own vehicle sat below Black Manta's ship. On instinct, he ran over to his clock-themed motorbike and inspected it for any sign of damage. In hindsight, it probably wasn't the smartest move since William didn't know what was going on, but he put all his heart and soul into crafting his ride and thought of it as his own kin.

His inspection was interrupted when a loud, booming voice caught everyone's attention. Looking up, William saw a well-built, yellow-skinned man clad in blue and red with spiked black bands appear before their eyes and float closer to them on his red podium. The man was at least thirty feet above them, talking about a race.

Zirty feet above ze ground... Running the numbers through his head, William determined that the yellow-skinned male's hover-stand was just within distance of his motorbike's newly installed tech scanner. Vell. I am dying to try zis baby out...

As the angry Green Lantern, Batman, and Mongul (as the man called himself) exchanged words (and a giant green hammer construct), William took the opportunity to turn on the essentials and activate his ride's newly installed feature. The German man isn't sure what compelled him to try it out now of all times, perhaps it was a combination of the elation that came with testing his new gear and the pettiness of wanting Mongul to pay for upheaving his plans for the evening, but William was already halfway done typing in the necessary data to scan Mongul's ride and copy its stored data onto his bike's hard drive by the time he had second thoughts. He might as well go through with it, right?

From the corner of his eye, William saw Black Manta looking over his shoulder at him. William angled his head so his clock face stared back while still seeing the screen clearly. The other man said nothing, turned his head back to the front of the crowd, and shuffled himself so he blocked Mongul's direct line of sight to the Clock-themed villain and his ride. It also unintentionally gave William a better shot at scanning Mongul's floating podium. William made a note to take him out for drinks after this, and if they somehow manage to avoid a lengthy stay at Iron Heights.

William was half-listened to Mongul explaining the game's rules as the German man finished typing everything and lined up his motorbike's new tech scanner with Mongul's stand. With a carefully timed rev of his bike's engine (William was glad he fixed that noise problem), Mongul's hover-podium was scanned and within seconds, he'd gotten all its information stored and downloaded into his bike. William smirked, quickly skimming through the newly collected files when one file in particular caught his attention.

Wacky Warmoon Race Plan

Curious, William clicked it open and scanned through its contents. By the time Mongul disbanded everyone to tweak their automobiles for the race, William had a bad feeling about this entire thing.

~~~

CK: I need you to talk me out of something

Black Manta paused in his welding, rereading the message in his helmet before switching his helmet's controls so his speech would be converted into text responses and no one would hear him talk. Once that was done, Manta continued welding like nothing occurred.

BM: Is something the matter, Tockman.

Black Manta pursed his lips, untangling the wires in his Manta Ship's leg. He really needed to get that issue sorted out. Perhaps after the race, once he's in control of that nifty Warmoon.

CK: Remember how you saw me typign on my Clock Bike's system earlier? And you made sure Mongul wouldn't see me doing it?

BM: Yes that happened less than ten minutes ago. Why do you ask.

It was a beat before Clock King responded, giving the swimwear-clad man enough time to move on to the next leg and inspect its wiring. Thankfully, it wasn't as tangled as the other; the leg joint, however, needed some oiling.

CK: Well CK: Remember the new tech I mentioned back in Iron Heights?

Black Manta paused, trying to recall the conversation Tockman was referring to.

BM: The one where you could watch those. BM: "Private films" while you worked your day job.

CK: Not THAT CONVERSATION!!1!!!1 CK: THE One where I was designing something to scann Green Arrow's stupid car!!!!

BM: Oh. BM: Sorry Tockman.

CK: You are so very lucky you're mein friend, Manta CK: Otherwise, I may just climb up your ship's legs and bash your helmet in

BM: Sorry. BM: Anyway, please continue.

CK: I finished installing it this afternoon and was planning on using it when Green Arrow came to stop me during my heist at the Star City Museum CK: Scan his car's data and store it to read after getting out of prison. See if there's anything I could use against him, yeah?

Black Manta hummed in thought, testing the joint's movement before moving on to the last leg of his Manta Ship.

BM: That does sound beneficial. BM: I take it you've already used it while he was distracted by Mongul earlier.

Another beat ensured. Black Manta had enough time to fuse together some worn wires before Clock King responded.

CK: DAMNIT!!!!1! CK: Why didn't I think of that!?! CK: That was the perfect time to do so!

The messages were deleted seconds after Manta finished reading.

CK: No, I used it on Mongul's lift

That caught Black Manta's attention.

BM: I'm guessing you found something disturbing.

CK: That's one way of putting it...

Black Manta paused in his motions, holding some newly fused wires together in his free hand. Concern gnawed at him, rereading the message multiple times before responding. Something told him that it wasn't anything beneficial to them.

BM: What did you find.

It was a full two minutes before Tockman replied. The long response time made Manta's stomach twist with unease. It took everything he had not to tug on his gloves until his message came through.

CK: It's better if you see for yourself

Attached to the message was a file labeled "Wacky Warmoon Race Plan," and with only a moment's hesitation dwelling on the name (Seriously, why would anyone, let alone an intergalactic threat, give their files such ridiculous titles?) Black Manta opened the file and read through its contents. He was glad he was a speed reader because, by the time he finished looking through the outline and final notes, Black Manta remained still for three minutes. When he was done, Manta sorted through the wires in his hands to pretend to look busy while he processed what he'd just read.

BM: Okay. I believe I know what you're talking about now. BM: But what did you mean earlier when you asked me to "talk you out of something."

Black Manta already had a feeling what it was, but it was better to hear it from Tockman himself. He closed up the leg's panel and moved to work on the tail of his ship. He had already reviewed the appendage this morning, but he needed to look busy to not raise suspicion; with any luck, Tockman was acting similarly. Once the main tail panel was opened, Manta received Tockman's reply.

CK: Well CK: I was thinking of maybe... CK: StoppingMonguls'plansbeforetheyhappened?///?

He's nervous. Black Manta realized. Lightly touching the cables, Black Manta waited for Tockman to continue; the German man usually rambled when he was nervous, regardless if it was verbal or written. Right on cue, his helmet received more messages from him.

CK: I know it's dumb and dangerous and we're villains we don't do that we're eveil and everythign but CK: Monguls not only screwing us over but he's also gonna destroy ALL OF THE EARTH!!111! CK: I have my misgivings about Star City, but I still want to live there damnit!!!11! CK: I already have a half-formed plan but Im not sure and you're the logical one and mein best friend here so CK: I just need unbiased and level-headed insight into this pls

Black Manta paused in his surface-level work when his helmet picked up on movement coming from behind. Quickly switching his speech settings back, Black Manta gently pulled on some wires and inspected them closely; there were faint black specks on the covers, but they were most likely dried grease stains from his morning inspection. Taking out a wipe, Black Manta gently scrubbed it down while he waited for whoever was behind him to speak.

"Cleaning the inside of your machine for the race?" Black Manta recognized the booming voice as Mongul's. Turning down the gain on his helmet, Manta faced the grinning alien as he switched to a different wire. "Rather tedious work, isn't it?"

"A clean start is always a great start, as the saying goes." Black Manta answered, carefully keeping his voice neutral. "Is there anything I can help you with, Mongul?"

The alien laughed, throwing his head back before staring at him with those blank, red eyes. "Can't an event organizer simply check on his participants before the race begins?"

Black Manta raised a brow, picking up on the mild amusement in Mongul's voice. Hesitating, Black Manta decided to take a risk. Inhaling deeply, steadying his nerves, Black Manta set down the wipe he was using and stretched his polishing hand.

"Well, since you're here," He began, carefully watching Mongul for any useful nonverbal hints. Flicking his wrist, his helmet began analyzing Mongul's facial movements and scanned for any tells. "I am rather curious about that Warmoon you have."

"Oh?" Mongul raised a thick brow, intrigued.

"Yes," Black Manta nodded, "I'm aware the Warmoon is capable of destroying the Earth, but exactly how much power does it generate? How can it generate that power at all?"

Mongul's grin widened, the alien elaborating on Warmoon's function and purpose. Black Manta continued asking questions, slowly squeezing out more details. Mongul seemed to not be onto Manta's plan, and his helmet was detecting no signs of suspicion, as the yellow-skinned alien answered each inquiry with excessive pride and vigor that could rival Aquaman's own. Regardless, Black Manta kept phrasing his questions in a manner that indicated pure curiosity only and kept his calm throughout the conversation. Can't get too careless, especially when you're playing with fire.

By the time Mongul had to move on- stopping Green Arrow and Batman, of all people, from throwing hands with each other- Black Manta knew what needed to be done. He just hoped Tockman hadn't already made up his mind.

~~~

Clock King - Black Manta Correspondence

BM: Sorry for the late response. Mongul came to check on me. CK: Not a problem! I saw the whole thing from my spot while working on my Clock Bike CK: The Schweinhund just passed without sparing a glance! >:( BM: Sorry to hear that. But I do have some news. CK: So do I! CK: I overheard Green Arrow and Batman arguing just now, and I think they already have a plan in motion! CK: Remember when they foiled my plot in Monte Carlo last year? BM: The Tick Tock Terror. CK: Yes!!! CK: Batman distracted me with a fight around town while Green Arrow destroyed my beautiful masterpiece... CK: Except, during the argument, Batman called it a "race," when it wasn't anything of the sort! CK: Maybe a race against time CK: Those two aren't dumb enough to make a mistake like that CK: SO! BM: So he and Green Arrow intend to execute a similar plan. CK: Exactly! CK: I think Huntress is in on it too, but I'm not sure. Either way, it seems I was worried for no reason! :) BM: Not necessarily. CK: What do you mean? BM: When Mongul came to check on me, I took the opportunity to learn more about the Warmoon and its functionality. He appeared excited to brag about its capabilities and didn't seem to sense anything suspicious. If Batman and Green Arrow's plan is identical to Monte Carlo's, what I learned from Mongul will negatively impact the Heroes' plan. CK: What is it? BM: Warmoon's energy core has a powerful forcefield protecting it, preventing trespassers from coming close. It can only be deactivated by accessing Mongul's personal shut-off switch in his podium and turning off the dual-lock system that can only be unlocked on the Warmoon. CK: Ach du liebe Zeit... BM: I'm afraid so, Tockman. BM: Even if Green Arrow were to be eliminated first, he lacks the expertise or knowledge to override the lock systems. BM: Even if he somehow breaks through it, there's still the matter of Mongul's personal control on his podium. Not to mention the time crunch he'll be under during the race. BM: In short, the Earth will be doomed. BM: Unless. CK: "Unless"? BM: Unless one of us deactivates the Warmoon's lock system and the other handles Mongul's personal switch. CK: Wait. CK: Are you saying what I think you're saying? BM: It'd be smarter to tell the Heroes all this, but I highly doubt they'll trust our word. They may also punish us with extra severe sentences in Iron Heights for all our technological creations. Or worse. Putting us to work at a horrendous sweatshop for the rest of our lives. BM: We have ten more minutes before the race begins. That's enough time for us to devise a strategy to aid Green Arrow and Batman without their knowledge. You don't have to help me, but I would greatly appreciate it. CK: I'm in. I'm not letting some Arsch from outer space decide whether to destroy this planet or not. CK: Besides, even if Green Arrow finds out, I doubt he wants the world to know that he and Batman needed the help of two of the best villains just to have their little plan succeed >:) BM: Glad to hear you're on board. :) CK: So, what did you have in mind, Manta?

~~~

And just like that, the race had begun.

The Manta Ship lagged behind, everyone else's vehicles crushing it in speed and taking a shot at grabbing the lead. That was alright, as Black Manta needed time to prepare some gear for his and Clock King's plan to work. So, Black Manta engaged the auto-pilot and set to work on putting the finishing touches on a creation he'd taken a break from a few months ago. He just hoped Mongul either didn't see him do so or didn't care enough to call him out on it...

Meanwhile, the Clock King's Clock Bike stayed in the middle of the conveyances, just behind Green Lantern's car projection and to the left of Huntress's motorbike. The Clock-themed villain witnessed Plastic Man and his sidekick(?) stretch over most of the other racers, Steppenwolf shooting at the duo and promptly eliminating them from the race. He caught sight of a bright flash from behind him, and Tockman had a feeling that's how the eliminated competitors got to Warmoon and watched the rest of the race play out.

I hope for Manta's sake zat teleportation isn't any more painful zan how ve got here in ze first place. Tockman scanned the area for Mongul, keeping track of his surroundings and fellow racers. No time for zat zinking- I need to stay in ze race and find a vindow of opportunity. Once it shows itself to me, I'll use ze deactivation code ve made on Mongul's podium und make it look natural. I just hope I can find him soon...

As the race progressed, Tockman still couldn't find an opportunity to use the deactivation code. The well-built alien was nowhere to be seen, and the racetrack didn't have any ramps he could go up; any elevated areas he did find were too low to the ground, and with Mongul's whereabouts unknown, there was no point in driving up them.

Well, apart from the rush of riding up them. Which Tockman may have given into...a few times.

What didn't help was more people getting eliminated, making the chances of Tockman being next go higher; it was stressful enough to keep his and Black Manta's aid discreet from everyone. Being eliminated was not what he needed right now. The Clock-themed villain was glad it happened to anyone else (except, at the moment, Batman) but him.

Still, it was sad to see the Cat-themed villainess go; sadder was seeing Catwoman be coldly ignored by Batman, which hit hard for Tockman since he knew the feeling of holding unrequited feelings for a rival. (It may have been part of his plan, but Tockman made a note to hit the Caped Crusader extra hard the next time they clash). Regardless, part of Tockman's current predicament was solved when he saw Huntress drive up Catwoman's Cat Car like a ramp. Maybe once he'd located Mongul, Tockman could drive up someone's vehicle as a makeshift ramp. Of course, it depends on who was left once Mongul was found.

Opening the Villain Chat App, Tockman messaged Manta for help.

CK: I can't find Mongul anywhere. You?

Texting while driving may have been tricky, not to mention risky given the circumstances, but it was nothing Tockman hadn't done before. The hard part was shielding his screen from the sunlight and Green Lantern, who decided now was a good time to pull up next to him and scream insults. Tockman rolled his eyes, putting a hand to his ear and asking, "What was zat? You'll have to speak up. I can't hear you over ze vind."

The car projection's window rolled down, Green Lantern sticking his head out and raising his gravelly voice. "I said, 'You better be ready to taste dust, King Clock!' Cuz that's what you're gonna be eating once you're outta here!"

Tockman felt his eye twitch, sneering at the annoying Lantern. "Mein name is 'Clock King,' not 'King Clock,' you second-best Lantern!"

The bowl-cut redhead barked out a sharp laugh. "Potato, potahto. Either way, Clock Face, you better get used to the taste of-"

Tockman didn't even give the mouthy Lantern a chance to finish as he revved his engine and sped away, leaving a giant dust cloud in his wake. The sounds of Guy Gardner coughing and angrily cursing were music to the Clock-themed villain's ears. He smirked to himself as he got a message from Black Manta.

BM: I scanned the surroundings, and it seems he's keeping up with us as we race. He's approximately 90 meters off the ground.

Vell, at least I know vhere he is, Tockman thought bitterly. Now it leaves ze question of how to get close to him without raising suspicion. Und more importantly- how to get up zat high.

Another message popped up on Tockman's console, temporarily dragging him out of his musings.

BM: Wish me luck. If I'm not dead by the end, I'll pay for our drinks at the No-Name Bar.

Tockman really, really hoped Manta knew what he was doing...

~~~

In hindsight, it wasn't a good idea to let the auto-pilot take control for so long. Black Manta partially regretted his decision, but as long as he was ready for the next phase, he was more than alright. And, Manta had to admit- climbing up the raceway's walls instead of taking the intended path was fun; it showed that he made the right call to add that new grip system last week. Plus, it was comical to see Green Arrow's car swerved out of the way of his Manta Ship dropping in. Black Manta almost wished he hacked into its dashcams to see the look on Green Arrow's face.

Hacking into the dashcams would've been better than taking a dive from Joker's giant whoopie cushion's air current and letting his crowning-glory engineering achievement crash into the bottom of the canyon. Still, it was necessary for his and Tockman's plan to succeed. And it wasn't like Manta couldn't repair his ship after the race concluded (assuming it would be recovered). A more thorough inspection was needed, but the damage seemed surface-level. The explosion would need to be looked into, but it was likely more flashy than damaging; the Manta Ship had reinforced plating, and the windshield was extra-strong after that Pelican-Whale thing crashed through it during the bank chase.

Giving himself a quick lookover, Black Manta met Catwoman's testing smirk and gaze. To her right was Gentleman Ghost, who dusted off imaginary dust from his suit. "Welcome to the 'Locked in a Cage Club,' Manta," Catwoman purred in her honeyed voice. Glancing around, Manta saw they were locked in a cage with energy-based bars keeping them prisoner. "Pay no mind to the other members across from us, deary."

Manta looks across them at the other energy cage holding Plastic Man and his associate captive. The stretchy man looked glum as he sat on the floor, while the other male grinned and waved nervously at them. Turning back to Catwoman, Black Manta pointed to the waving man and asked, "Another admirer of yours?"

"Sadly, yes." Catwoman sighed, sagging her shoulders as she walked to the other side of the cage. "Oh, poor me. I'm always the one getting the most unwanted attention from people. Not that I expect you boys to understand. Especially you, Ghost Boy."

Gentlemen Ghost took offense to the nickname, starting up an argument between the two. Black Manta turned away from them and bit his tongue, knowing it was useless to argue against Catwoman; her teasing tone clued in that she was dramatizing her woes, which was enough reason for Manta to not engage. Besides, Catwoman almost always won every argument she was in, and it seemed to be the case again if Gentleman Ghost's attire changing to black was any indication. (That only happened when he was angry, excited, or willed it to occur).

Checking that no one was paying attention to him, Black Manta tapped the side of his helmet and analyzed the rods ensnaring them. The results showed that the bars were immune to all physical attacks but could easily be repelled by an electromagnetic pulse. Tensing his fist, Manta's rayguns appeared. With some minor tinkering, he shot out a weak electromagnetic beam that gave him enough time to throw his newly-finished creations.

Manta gave it a moment, checking for anyone suspecting him of foul play. Plastic Man and his associate whispered something to each other, Catwoman looked smug, and Gentleman Ghost glared at her.

No one even noticed. He had mixed feelings about it, but Manta was glad he went unnoticed by everyone, especially the Heroes. (Could Plastic Man's friend be called that? He'll have to chat with the Calculator about that). Checking the screen, Black Manta saw something that had him switching his helmet back to speech-to-text and messaging Tockman in a heartbeat.

~~~

BM: Mongul's close. He'll be hovering above Batman for a few seconds.

Tockman's eyebrows raised at Manta's message, quickly scanning his surroundings to spot the well-built alien. Sure enough, Mongul had come down from his spot in the sky and hovered just above the Caped Crusader's Batmobile.

And would you look at that? Green Lantern's cruiser lined up perfectly with Mongul's general location.

Clock King smirked, preparing the deactivation code as he passed the Lantern's car. He ignored its driver cursing at him and made a sharp U-Turn as he floored it toward the hero's car. Revving up, Tockman pulled a wheelie as he launched into the air and passed by Mongul. Time seemed to slow down as he revved the engine, sending the deactivation code to Mongul's podium. As he passed by, Tockman put on his best flirtatious look as he opened his clock face, locked eyes with him, and winked at the alien. Tockman will cherish the image of Mongul's face turning a deeper shade of yellow for years to come.

Landing on the ground and ignoring Huntress's and Green Arrow's annoyed cries, Tockman quickly returned to his original spot behind Steppenwolf. He was close enough to the racer to hear Mongul's transmission over the pumping pistons and the wind in his ears.

"Better entertain me, Steppenwolf, or I may have found a new Champion. And perhaps, a new companion, as well."

Tockman felt his heart skip a beat, his cheeks flushing under his helmet. Mongul was interested in him? The Clock-themed villain had only done that to make his stunt seem less suspicious, but...

Huh.

Well, Tockman did have to admit the alien was easy on the eyes if one were to exclude his choice in colors-

Wait- are he and Steppenwolf an item!?

Nope. That was a deal-breaker.

William Tockman is a lot of things, but a homewrecker is not one of them! Never have been, and he never will be. Scrawny men were more his type, anyway.

Tockman barely noticed Green Lantern getting knocked around as he was alerted to Mongul's shut-off control being deactivated.

~~~

CK: Mongul's switch is down. You're up now, Manta.

Black Manta's lip twitched upward- his form of a confident grin- and turned around to face the wall. Placing his hands on his hips, Manta switched his helmet's speech settings to the newly installed system. With his helmet still in speech-to-text mode, and double-checking it was so, the swimwear-clad man had no unease about talking out loud.

"Scan for the Silver-F15H." Manta slowly moved his head, his helmet's built-in scanner picking up on various minuscule bug-like microbots crawling in the cracks on the floor. Once he had all of the Silver-F15H confirm their connection to his helmet, Manta continued.

"Attention all Silver-F15H," He began, "Your objective is to integrate into Warmoon's mainframe, find the dual-lock system protecting its energy core, and shut it down with great immediacy. This is to be your top priority, as well as keeping out of sight from anyone and everyone. Am I clear?" The resounding beeps from the various microbots made him wince- Black Manta made a note to adjust the volume- but knowing his latest creation (which was heavily inspired by the silverfish Aquaman seemed to have a strong bond with) was working made him smile.

"Good," Black Manta nodded his head, before turning it from side to side in an attempt to mask it as stretching his neck. "Silver-F15H, go forth!"

And just like that, the Silver-F15H tunneled into Warmoon's circuits and mainframe. Black Manta kept track of his creations's progress, deciphering and saving any interesting information for a later date. Black Manta faintly heard Guy Gardner's gravelly voice ring out, but he didn't say anything nor react to it.

No one commented on it; no one ever remarked on his silence.

Tockman's my friend. Black Manta reminded himself, opening the Villain Chat App and concocting up his message's composition. He's counting on me right now, and once this is over and we're not imprisoned, I'm paying for drinks and dinner, too.

~~~

BM: The Silver-F15H are digging into Warmoon's mainframe. I'll update you as things progress. Good luck and stay safe.

Tockman smiled warmly at the message, tearing his gaze from it when he heard an explosion ring out. Looking at the source of the eruption, the Clock-themed villain nearly gagged when he witnessed a large, lime-green, mushy blob emerge from the site. Thankfully, it was just Green Arrow and one of his trick arrows at work.

Not sure if I should be glad he's alive or disgusted by vhat I've just witnessed.

"Fire retardant-foam arrows," The archer stated, sounding rather smug with himself. "Never leave home without 'em." The hero quickly took out his bow, loaded an arrow, and aimed it at Mongul.

"Maybe you should rename zem to 'Snot Arrows,' Archer!" Clock King called out as he passed, hearing Mongul's bellowing laughter behind him. What could he say? Tockman had a reputation to maintain. Plus, those arrows did look rather gross.

Tockman faintly heard his rival get teleported away, although a glance at his Clock Bike's exposed gears showed that the Archer hero had launched at least one arrow in Mongul's face. Humming to himself, Tockman looked over his remaining opponents. Huntress and Batman were fine- since they, or at least Batman, were playing distraction for the well-built alien- but the Joker was definitely someone who needed to go, right away.

Not just because Tockman found him to be an irritating, unfunny, Schweinhund, but also because the "Clown Prince of Chaos" was currently living up to his self-given title. Tockman rolled his eyes at the Joker's classic and overused driving antics. Throwing one of his trademarked Joker Fish at Batman's car, eroding Huntress's motorbike with an acidic squirting flower, releasing rubber duck bombs from the trunk heading right for him-

"DER MIST!!!" Tockman swore loudly, swerving out of the way of the cute yellow rudder ducks. He barely managed to avoid a direct hit, but the force of the blast sent the Clock-themed villain spiraling out of control. Slamming on the brakes, Tockman pulled on the controls as hard as possible as he prayed to not be eliminated. Upon seeing he was heading straight for the edge of the track, Tockman's heart sank.

Vell. At least ze Heroes have a chance at saving ze Earth. Kinda sad Manta and I von't be getting zose drinks...

Tockman squeezed his eyes shut, giving the controls and brakes another hard push and shove as he leaned the other way. He didn't even care about the race or the Earth or the Heroes anymore- William Tockman was not going to go out just because a Depp Clown College washout threw some explody duck toys at him. Holding his breath, Tockman's ears filled with the terrible sound of his Clock Bike's tires continued to screech against the track, dust clouds swirling around him as he awaited his fate...

Silence.

Silence filled the air around Tockman as he cracked open his eyes, biting back another swear when he realized how close he was to the ledge. Leaning the other way, Tockman's motorbike settled on the ground beneath them. Tockman breathed deeply, panting from the rollercoaster of emotions he experienced in just a few short seconds. Inhaling deeply, Tockman slowly let it out, resting his head on the back of his motorbike and letting the silence wash over him- No, no, wait. There's ringing in his ears. His tinnitus is acting up again.

Scheiße...

Resting a hand against his head, Tockman barely glanced at the Joker bouncing up from over the edge and proclaimed his excitement before disappearing. He did spare a moment to mourn the loss of his Friday, knowing the Joker would have him rebuild his car after this race. Sighing to himself, Tockman revved up his engine and continued on his way; Steppenwolf was still in the lead, and Tockman wanted to get a few punches in before the race finished.

If he saw some movement out of the corner of his eye, he'd chalk it up to seeing spots in his vision.

~~~

When the Joker teleported in, Black Manta admitted to being rather nervous. Not just because one of the most mentally unstable and unpredictable criminals in the underworld, nor because his very presence was an assault to most senses, but due to his intelligence. It was a fairly overlooked aspect of the clown criminal, but it was a trait Manta was keenly aware of. The Harlequin of Hate, as he liked to be called, made sure to not let Manta forget about that often-forgotten detail, especially that night in Blackgate.

Suppressing the urge to shiver, Black Manta checked on his Silver-F15H's progress in an attempt to ignore the Joker. They had just located the energy core's dual-lock system when the Clown Prince had begun playing dirty against Batman, Huntress, and Tockman. Now, it seems they had hacked their way through the first lock and were currently working on the second.

The swimwear-clad man was dragged out of his thoughts when an explosion rang out. Turning his head towards the screen, Manta saw the tell-tale smoke cloud of an explosion linger in the air. He faintly heard the polka-dot shirt man mutter, "She...She didn't make it."

Something in Manta shifted in that instant.

It was minor, but he felt it. The sharpening of his senses, the details becoming clearer- The best Manta could describe it was his brain opening up, allowing information to pour into it and be analyzed with a passionate intensity. With almost no effort, Manta witnessed everything.

Guy Gardner's face is frozen somewhere between shock and dread. Plastic Man's head hung from his elongated neck, sadness written across his face. The polka-dot shirt man was simply crushed.

The Joker laughed, arms holding his sides. Catwoman hissed at him to be quiet, her nails drawn and ready to strike. Gentleman Ghost crossed his arms at the pair, presumably rolling his eyes.

Green Arrow pulled the heel off his boot, removing a three-piece device from the molds inside. (Clever placement, Manta will have to replicate that). He told them all to focus, to mourn for their loss later. Arrow stands up as he calls them all over; the Joker peers closer in an attempt to listen better. Guy Gardner tells the Joker to buzz off.

Glancing back to the screen, Black Manta searched it. What he's looking for exactly, he isn't sure. But he knows it's there.

His Silver-F15H were nearly halfway done with the second lock. Only a matter of minutes before they finished.

Black Manta leaned closer, squinting at the screen. Fire engulfed the vehicular remains, eating away any salvageable parts and permanently marring them as scrap. Tockman's Friday was going to be filled with crafting Joker a new car, and his own Friday would be occupied with creating new weapons for the clown; Manta can already hear Joker saying to put the fees on his Tab, despite never paying for any of Manta's hard work and treating it the same he treats everyone around him- Like garbage...

Mongul came into the screen, feigning sympathy for Huntress's supposed death. The act was quickly dropped when he made a comment about a Death Race needing a death in it. No one paid Mongul's comment any mind. The Joker merely quipped about Mongul being right before laughing at his own poor humor. Catwoman gave him a Look, which made the Clown quiet down, though he was still grinning.

On the lower right-hand side, Black Manta saw a few pixels pass by.

~~~

Tockman was starting to think Mongul and Steppenwolf really are an item. Or, at the very least, was.

The reason he thinks that? Well, getting shot at by the former's tank-like vehicle was a pretty big hint.

Perhaps flirting I should've taken my chances with the stunt, instead. Tockman made another series of sharp turns, weaving between blasts as he sped faster. Or perhaps I shouldn't have cut him off when I made a grab for ze lead.

"Would you mind not blasting at me?!" Tockman called over his shoulder, finding it harder to suppress his thick accent with his frustration rising. Steppenwolf glared at him, clenching his teeth as he began firing at the Clock-themed villain again. Tockman groaned, the wind keeping the sound from being carried over. "Zis is going to ruin my bike's handles und controls after zis."

Hopefully, Manta's little nanobots vill be done vith ze lock soon.

Tockman got his answer when he received a notification from his best friend. Opening it, he scanned the message and activated the sound-proof domes on his Clock Bike. The German man felt a strong force emanating from behind but merely heard muffled screeching. Breathing a sigh of relief, Tockman got another message from the aquatic villain.

BM: The Silver-F15H are through. The locks are down and the heroes are making a grab for escape. BM: I've taken a video to watch for entertainment later.

Tockman grinned, both at the news and the prospect of watching something the heroes have done. He went to message Black Manta about recalling the little things- something he was probably doing already- when an explosion brought Tockman out of his thoughts.

Sparing a brief glance at his bike's exposed gear's reflection, Tockman nearly felt his heart stop when he saw the Batmobile engulfed in a plume of smoke. The vehicle wasn't moving, and he didn't see a flash of light teleporting the masked vigilante inside it out. The feeling was disregarded as he caught Steppenwolf's manic grin and eyes that screamed "You're DEAD!!!!"

Der Mist...

The dread pooling in his stomach only lasted an agonizingly long second, as Tockman saw a familiar Bat-Motorcycle appear. Luck seemed to be on his side, as Steppenwolf switched focus to the racer behind him. The alien racer turned his vehicle around, firing everything he had at the motorized vehicle. Tockman glanced between him and the finish line, which was just coming into view. Tockman glanced down at the controls, contemplating his decisions.

Finish the race, or give the Batman a chance to win?

Weighing his options, Tockman sighed, lowering the sound-proof domes on either side of him and backing up.

If it gets Steppenvolf off mein back... That's what he told himself, at least.

Setting his Clock Bike on auto-pilot, Tockman exited his seat and jumped onto the back of Steppenwolf's tank. He slowly and carefully climbed up the raygun and held on for dear life as the speedy tank whirled around to face forward again. Thankfully, his ride was set to always follow his position and avoid obstacles, so it was perfectly intact. Tockman made his ascent again, standing on top of the stout ray and waiting for the perfect time to pounce. Tockman watched as Steppenwolf lined up his attack for Batman and muttered under his breath, "That's it, Batman. Just hold still a second longer."

Well, now that was just too good an opportunity to pass up.

Tockman tapped Steppenwolf on the shoulder, the yellow-skinned racer turning around in time to meet the German man's fist. Tockman rained punches on the alien, screaming insults at him and saying, "This is for trying to fry me earlier," and "This is for blasting at mein bike," to make it seem like a petty squabble taken too seriously. Steppenwolf fought back and Tockman had to give the guy credit- he knew how to throw and block a punch. Those blows were definitely going to be felt for a while after. Good thing Tockman was no slouch in combat; all that time imprisoned and training with Black Manta seemed to be paying off.

Unfortunately, that didn't stop Steppenwolf from pinning him against the ray gun's muzzle. Even with his helmet on, Tockman could smell the other male's breath and what has this man been eating??? Biting down on his tongue, Tockman suppressed the urge to quip about the man's poor dental hygiene as he laughed. The darkness it harbored sent chills down the Clock-themed villain's spine.

"Finally," Steppenwolf hissed, eyes wide with manic rage. "Once you're out of the way, Mongul will be mine once again." Tockman recognized the jealous undertone instantly and tried to placate the man.

"Relax, mein Feind. I'm not interested in your boyfriend. I'm a, how do you say, player vhen it comes to hearts. He's all yours." Tockman's words did nothing but make Steppenwolf bash his head against the muzzle's side, a large crack running down his helmet's clock face.

"Liar," Steppenwolf hissed, his voice low and threatening. The angered racer leaned in closer, Tockman's cracked helmet face making it look like there were two of him. "I saw you winking at him earlier, and I know that Mongul's been losing interest in me ever since I lost the title of War World Champion. He's had his eye on Bat-Meat ever since he bested me, and now you come along with your- your fake royal robes and- and y-your fake accent?!?" Steppenwolf's anger grew, his voice cracking and rising as he spoke. Although, Tockman saw the sadness and pain in his eyes.

Mongul's been losing interest in him? Scheiße, no vonder he's mad.

Tockman's attention was taken when he heard the sound of a vehicle fast approaching. Steppenwolf did too, as his eyes tore from the villain's prone form to-

"Ze Batmobile?" Tockman questioned, watching as it drove closer to Steppenwolf's tank.

Sensing what was about to happen, Tockman kicked Steppenwolf off of him and dove for his Clock Bike. Landing on its roof, the villain swung from the top and into his seat, settling into it as he switched back to manual controls. Backing away from the tank, Tockman swiveled around just in time to watch Steppenwolf crash unceremoniously into a rock.

"For ze record," Tockman called back to the eliminated racer, "My accent is real! I just sound like zis so people can understand me better!"

Tockman crossed the finish line, stopping just behind the Bat-Motorcycle. Climbing out of his seat, Tockman looked up in time to lock eyes with the Caped Crusader himself. The Clock-themed villain straightened up under his gaze, much like how he did whenever his mutti gave him the Look in his youth. Batman (thankfully) turned to face the Bat-Motorcylce's driver, who was revealed to be the not-dead Huntress!

"That was fuun," Huntress commented, standing from her seat. "Let's do it again."

"It was nice to race like zat again," Tockman muttered, his mind drifting to his wilder, youthful days. The heroes gave him a weird look, obviously having heard him.

"Bravo, and brava," Mongul boomed as he grew closer, slow-clapping as he continued. From here, Tockman could see the shiner on Mongul's right eye; it was turning into a nasty purple-ish color, and it looked painful to keep it open. "You ran a magnificent race, ruthless and cunning, all that I could've asked. One of you going above and beyond, even," Mongul gestured to Tockman, who had to suppress the disgusted noise from his throat. "And you certainly humiliated my champion and companion."

Tockman watched with a mix of revulsion and outrage as Mongul fired at Steppenwolf, knocking the man to the ground. "My ex-champion and companion, that is." Mongul corrected, smoking rising from his hover-podium's built-in laser. "Unfortunately, I really have no use for a troublesome, hero-laden world such as Earth. So I'm still gonna blow it up! However," Mongul hovered closer to the ground, stepping off his platform as he walked closer to Tockman.

The Clock-themed villain took a few steps back, not that it made a difference since Mongul's legs were longer. In a few steps, the yellow-skinned alien was standing in front of him. Leaning halfway down, Mongul reached out a hand toward Tockman, palm facing up.

"I am willing to take on a new companion, see as how my old one has proven to be...obsolete." Tockman's jaw dropped at Mongul's words. From the edges of his peripheral vision, Batman and Huntress felt the same. Mongul smirked at him as he continued, "Of course, since you've proven yourself capable of surviving an array of disasters, and shown decent fighting skills, I've decided you're more than qualified to be his replacement. What do you say?"

Wow, Tockman thought in disgust. The Clock-themed villain is very grateful Green Arrow had shot Mongul when he did. If that blackeye wasn't there, Tockman may have been tempted to say yes. But since his personality was slimy and he'd just said he'd only take William on as a replacement for Steppenwolf, well.

SMACK!

Batman gaped, Huntress gasped, and Mongul looked stunned. Tockman rubbed his head, seething at the alien before him. His shoulders shudder with each breath and his blood pressure rising, Tockman coldly and venomously spoke, enunciating each word.

"Hell. NO."

~~~

Batman had no idea what to do.

Well, no, that's not true. He has a few ideas of what to do, but he's not sure which one is the best route to take.

His knee-jerk reaction was to punch Mongul for not only asking the Clock King to be his partner but also for asking him in such a backhanded manner. The less emotional reaction was to get into his Batmobile, switch it to Exo-Suit mode, and unleash hell onto Mongul. Another, though less likely to work option, was to step in and stop the Clock-themed villain from screaming German insults at Mongul as the latter grew progressively more angered.

"Batman," The Caped Crusader snapped out of his thoughts, noting the worry in Huntress's voice. "Are you going to stop them before Mongul kills Clock King?"

Batman looked back to the scene, eyebrows shooting up as he saw Mongul grabbing the Clock King by the sash, hoisting him up a few feet off the ground. Whatever the Clock-themed Villain was saying, his words faltered as he was forced so close to the taller alien. Batman reached for a Batarang, and Huntress took out her crossbow and loaded it.

"Drop him, Mongul!" Batman called. Mongul turned to the Bat-themed hero, opening his mouth to say something when-

BOOM-BOOM!!!

Right. I'd nearly forgotten about that.

Batman smirked as he relished in Mongul's stunned expression, involuntarily releasing the Clock King from his grip. The Clock-themed villain bolted from the yellow-skinned alien, faster than Batman had ever seen before. What surprised him was that Clock King was heading towards Steppenwolf, helping him off the ground and talking to him.

Hmm...

~~~

"Are you okay?" William asked, watching Steppenwolf dust himself off. The German man vaguely heard Mongul cry out to his destroyed Warmoon, which satisfied and wiped away some of the ugly anger from earlier.

"I'm fine," Steppenwolf grumbled, crossing his arms and not meeting William's eyes. "Why do you care?"

"You vere shot by a laser and knocked back und into to ze ground," William flatly stated. "Of course, I vas worried! If that vere me, I could have died; it's a miracle zat you aren't."

"My armor more than protects me," The goateed male said, rolling his red-on-black eyes. "I'm not fragile, unlike you, Earth Meat."

"Hey, I'll have you know, I'm incredibly strong und resilient for a man my age. Most men vould be experiencing muscle and joint pains, as vell as losing zier muscles, but you don't see zat on me, right?" William held up his arms and flexed the very healthy strength his arms carried, grinning as he saw Steppenwolf's face turn a deeper shade of yellow and his eyes widen. Chuckling at the other man's expression, William continued, "But, I suppose more to ze point, I vanted to apologize for earlier. The whole, 'winking at Mongul' zing, I mean. I honestly didn't know he was taken; if I had, I wouldn't have- as the kids say- laid it on zick with the flirting."

Steppenwolf blinked, stunned at Tockman's words. Vaguely the sounds of Mongul threatening death on everyone and lasers firing rang, but they paid it no attention. The other man sighed, shoulders sagging with the motion.

"To be fair," Steppenwolf began, rubbing his arm, "I suppose I should've listened to you earlier when you said you were a partaker."

"Player," William corrected.

"Right, that." Steppenwolf sighed, growling as he continued to speak. "Regardless, this whole race has shown me that...perhaps it's time to...move on from the companionship I have with Mongul."

William hummed in agreement. "I'd say as much, yeah. Seriously, zat guy has some nerve. Who in ze hell breaks up with someone just because zey lost some title? Not to mention asking someone to be a 'replacement' for his ex. Honestly, I kind of regret not knocking out a tooth just for zat."

Steppenwolf chuckled, his lips turning upward. "...I am glad you slapped him, Clock Meat. And um. I apologize for damaging your headgear."

William smiled, resting a comforting hand on Steppenwolf's shoulder. "It's nozing to vorry about, Steppen. I can just replace the clock face once I'm back home. You know, give or take prison time."

"Ah, I see...'Steppen'?" The alien questioned, raising a brow.

"It's a shortened version of your full name, Steppenvolf," William explained. "We call zem nicknames, und zey're used between friends und families."

Steppenwolf's eyes widened at that, pointing between the two of them and asking, "We- We're friends??"

"Vell, unless you vant to be enemies again," William joked, before quickly adding, "Although, if we do, you von't be able to meet some of ze guys I know. There's a cute one in particular zat I zink you may be interested in~."

"...what is he like, exactly?" Steppen questioned, his curiosity piquing.

"Hey, you two!" William and Steppen were startled at the sudden voice calling them. Turning around, the Clock-themed villain spotted Green Arrow and Plastic Man heading towards them. The Archer held up his hands, "We're not here to start anything, alright?"

"What do you vant?" Clock King asked, gesturing between him and Steppen. "We were in the middle of a conversation."

"Well," Green Arrow began, crossing his arms. Plastic Man rubbed his neck nervously, his skin squeaking as he did so. "Bats and Black Manta were talking after knocking out Mongul-"

Ah, so zat's vhy it's so quiet. William thought with great satisfaction. Vish I could've seen it.

"-and since we all saw that sack of crap's proposition to you earlier," Green Arrow shifted his weight, discomfort etching onto his face. William doesn't blame him for feeling that way, nor Plastic Man for making the same (if exaggerated) facial expression. "They came to a compromise."

That caught William's attention. The Batman making a compromise? With a villain???? Wait, no. Arrow said it was Black Manta who talked him into it- it checks out. Manta could probably get all his shopping done for free if he tried. "What type of compromise?" Clock King asked, hesitant and suspicious.

"N-Nothing bad!" Plastic Man reassured, stretching his hands and neck closer to Tockman. "Well. Nothing that'll worsen your sentences, anyway, eheheh."

Ah, so ve are getting arrested after zis. "I'm listening," William said, Steppen nodding in agreement.

"Well, according to Guy, it's gonna be at least five minutes before a transport ship arrives to take Mongul and Steppenwolf to Oa." Green Arrow stated, loosely gesturing to the Green Lantern. "And he's already told the guys there Mongul's had the crap beaten out of him."

"Mongul doesn't look that bad," Clock King said, before clarifying, "I mean, aside from a black eye and my handprint on his face."

"Yeah," The Archer crossed his arms, smirking. "And it'd be pretty bad if Mongul didn't look the part, now would he?"

William's eyes widened, his mouth dropping open. Steppen seemed to have connected the dots as well, since he asked, "You're allowing us to beat the hell out of Mongul?!"

"Black Manta was the one who had the idea," Plastic Man answered, stretching his neck closer to the bearded man. "Bats was against it at first, but then Guy called the other Lanterns and told them that Mongul looked like someone who fell off a mountain, so he caved and allowed it. But only until the transport ship comes." Leaning closer, Plastic Man added in a lower volume, "Between you and me, I think Bats wants to get his fair share of licks in as well."

William blinked, shaking himself out of his daze. "Well, I have to say, that's fairly generous of you, heroes," Turning to his new friend, he asked, "Vell, what do you say, Steppen?"

"Of course!" The bearded man exclaimed, a mad smile crossing his face. "I have some...unresolved feelings towards my ex-companion I'd like to clear up."

"Don't get it twisted," Green Arrow warned, voice stern and eyes narrowed. "If any of you think you can take this chance to murder the guy, then you're wrong. We'll let you rain hell on him, but killing Mongul is not on the table. So much as make a move to do so, and we'll end it right then and there."

"Well then," Clock King smirked, propping a hand on his hip. "I suppose you'll have to keep an especially close eye on us then, Green Arrow."

The Archer's lip twitched upward, quickly smoothing his face into a stern look. "Yeah. You can count on that from all a' us."

"In that case," William began, stretching his arms over his head. "Vhat are we waiting for? Let's give Mongul what he deserves!"

Steppen cheered in agreement, following William as he strode back towards the gathered heroes and villains. The villains had already begun wailing on Mongul, with Green Gardner (and Plastic Man joining him) holding the hated alien down. Unsurprisingly, Huntress (who's well-known for her extreme methods) shot at the yellow-skinned alien's legs, eliciting a cry that had the German man wincing from the appearance alone. William handed Steppen his sword, telling the mildly confused man to press the small button on the hilt; he smiled at Steppen's look of awe as he ran towards the fray, Gentleman Ghost and Catwoman making space for the scorned ex.

William spared a glance at Black Manta, who was firing weak blasts at Mongul's bruised face. Manta looked at Clock King, side-stepped to make space, and went back to blasting Mongul's face. William smiled, heading to stand beside Manta and kicking the alien's head when Manta wasn't blasting at him. Which was nearly every five blasts with Tockman standing beside him; William kicked Mongul's head five times before letting Manta blast Mongul.

"Those drinks will have to wait a bit," Manta quipped.

William snorted, rolling his eyes fondly. "Vell, it wouldn't be ze first time, now would it."

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