Short Story: Crisis of the Multiple Powerhouses, Part One

Powerhouse hurtled towards the ground at top speed as he smashed through the underground bunker shattering and mortar as he stood in the stinking filth of the underground lair.

“Fournier!” Powerhouse stuck a heroic pose in his metallic armor with rocket pack on his back. “I’m here in your filthy lair.”

A voice came from a box. “I’m sorry, I just signed the lease on this thing. I should have known better than to rent from a swamp monster.”

“Never mind that, villain. Where is Major Speed?”

“You have more pressing problems to deal with. You’ll be defeated.”

Powerhouse rolled his eyes. “You’re going to use your silly forcefield again.”

“No, you see, the only thing that can defeat Powerhouse is an alternate version of him from another dimension. I have the portal. Every single choice anyone makes creates an alternate universe, and there are an infinite number from which I can draw someone who can defeat you.”

Fournier leered. “Meet your evil self.”
In a flash of light, a muscular version of his alter ego, Dave Johnson appeared carrying a tire iron and swung it at him.

Powerhouse dodged, tripped the guy, and imagined him tied up. “Yeah, that was a challenge.” He glared down at his evil twin. “What did you do that for?”

Evil Dave cursed.

Powerhouse slapped him. “What would grandpa say?”

“The geezer died in a plane crash when I was two, and my old man died when I was four. Then my old lady made off with the geezer’s dumb comic collection and left me.” Evil Dave cursed his whole family.

“Why did you attack me?”

“You look like some stupid superhero. The only comic character I’ve ever liked is the Joker. He inspired me to get into a life of crime. I want to see the whole world burn!”

Powerhouse shuddered. His grandpa lived until he was ten and left him his love of heroes to give him a good example. “It’s too bad.”

Evil Dave cursed.

Powerhouse grunted. Evil Dave at least would never acquire superpowers. A guy with a long criminal record couldn’t pass the security check to work for the FBI and get the warehouse cleaning job that allowed him to get the powers.

A floating hologram of Fournier appeared wearing his lab coat and suit. Fournier straightened his pink bowtie “Behold, the next evil incarnation!”

A version of Dave in a power suit walked out, staring blankly. “What am I doing here? Mother will be most disappointed in me.” He stared at Powerhouse “My word, you are a rarity: a superhero I haven’t gotten murdered.”

Powerhouse blinked. “Murdered? With what?”

“Editorial demands. I’m a horrible person, and most displeasing to everyone. Mother tells me this all the time.”

“Mother? I’m you from an alternate universe. My mother provided minimal supervision and then ran out when I was eighteen.”

“You are so fortunate. Mother was taking that course until I turned eleven. At a yard sale, she bought a book that taught her how to mold me after her ways. When I won the lottery, mother invested the winnings and turned me into a billionaire for her own evil purposes. She caught me reading comic books and vowed to purge me of the habit by making me owner of a comic company and having me issue editorial mandates that were horrendous. Captain America was killed by a gunman when being brought to trial on preposterous charges. Spider-Man sold his marriage to the devil and was replaced by one of his chief villains. Mother also made me force numerous comics featuring everyone talking incessantly about their feelings, calling it character development.” Powersuit Dave fell to his knees and hugged Powerhouse’s legs.

“Please let me stay here. I want to live in a universe where Spider-man isn’t Doctor Octopus.”

So do I. Powerhouse sighed. “Um, I have bad news.”

Fournier’s hologram re-appeared but this time he was wearing a green and purple jump suit, his head was shaved and he was standing against a psychedelic window. “Okay, third time’s the charm.”

Powerhouse objected. “Villain, watch your mouth. That’s a cliché And have a care, I know a certain villain who wouldn’t appreciate you stealing his look.”

Out of the portal appeared a man in a bulletproof black suit, an emerald colored dress shirt, and emerald dress shoes. “Who dares bother the Dark Spirit of Justice?” He sniffed and covered his nose. “And who died in here?” Air fresheners appeared all over the lair.

Continued here