Superman in Peril
By Elder Barry erctwo@aol.com
Here I Come to Save the Day


SUPERMAN IN PERIL

(Thrust into a World of Television/Fantasy/Cartoons)

The broken body of the nearly comatose, barely breathing, Superman, once the
most powerful man on the planet, was being wheeled into the Trauma Center at
the prestigious Metropolis General Hospital. Apparently, the Man of Steel's
neck had somehow been broken nearly severed from his spinal cord resulting in
a partial paralysis effectively rendering the Kryptonian visitor a paraplegic.

Superman had no recollection of the episode that had incapacitated him and to
this day the mysterious assailant or assailants have remained unknown.
Nonetheless, seemingly in an instant the 'Protector of the Planet' had somehow
been reduced from Superhero into a helpless incapacitated paralyzed non
entity; his lower extremities completely immobile.

The perpetrator or perpetrators whomever they were had as yet not claimed the
credit nor the blame for the heinous act.

Inexplicably and most disturbing was that the Kryptonian's vaunted healing
powers had been compromised deserting him in this his most desperate hour of
need. Superman realized that neither a cure nor the restoration of his super
powers was in any way guaranteed. Making things even worse for Superman was
that a relatively simple medical procedure was a non-starter because the
needed surgical instruments were incapable of penetrating his impenetrable
Kryptonian body.

In a cruel manifestation of true irony Superman's invulnerability; his
impenetrable skin, that which makes him him was preventing a much needed and
relatively simple but invasive operation on his nearly severed spinal cord.

Hundreds and thousands of Prayer Vigils sprung up around the world. Billions
of people prayed for his well-being knowing that the Protector of the Planet
would be sorely missed. Days and then weeks followed by months sped past but
unfortunately Superman's condition showed little if any improvement.

He was periodically visited by his Daily Planet work friends; Lois, Jimmy, and
Perry White as well as his fellow superheroes from the Justice League and of
course his best friend Batman and Supergirl his Kryptonian cousin.

He could speak well enough but from the waist down he remained paralyzed.
However, the Man of Steel was grateful that he has retained full use of his
penis. He had also retained use of his fingers, his hands, and his arms. The
finger, hand, and arm exercises designed to develop and improve said usage
were daunting for him but a determined Superman religiously put his heart and
soul into it devoting countless hours to his rehabilitation.

A 'GoFundMe' website was set up for the care of Superman. Donations of tens of
millions of dollars were pledged. The citizens of the world were demonstrating
their gratitude for all that he had done for the planet.

Superman's other activities were limited to hours and hours of sun bathing (it
was hoped that the rays of Earth's yellow sun would recharge his body) ...
Eating (mostly gourmet foods) ... Reading books and magazines and kindle ...
Watching television (mostly sporting events and movies on Netflix), and his
nightly dreams ...

... Superman, in the guise of his alter ego Clark Kent, found himself securely
bound with his wrists and his ankles firmly affixed to railroad tracks.
Despite his heretofore always reliable super human strength the undisputed
strongest man on the planet was nonetheless unable to extricate himself from
the restraints that were holding him down.

Earlier that evening he had watched The Perils of Pauline, an old
black-and-white silent-film on The Turner Classic Movie Channel. The
predicament in which he now found himself embroiled was a parody of that
classic noir film.

Only in this particular iteration Superman was the helpless one tied to the
railroad tracks, he was the one in distress, he was the one in peril rather
than the more familiar formulaic hackneyed ... 'damsel in distress' ...
scenario.

Everything around him was in black and white and all of the images were sans
color. He assumed that he was dreaming but he couldn't shake himself out of
it. He heard a sound to his right and when he looked over to see what he saw
was a smiling dark-skinned female with jet-black hair carrying a frog in her
left hand. The extremely beautiful woman was silently looming over Superman
looking at him quizzically.

"Thank God." He spoke to her. "Please help me."

"Help you do what?"

"Untie me."

"Why?"

For the first time he realized that the raven-haired Nubian woman was in
living color. Her ruby-red pouty lips and her jet-black hair perfectly
complimented her attractive face perfectly.

"Someone believes you deserve this particular fate." She smiled broadly. "Who
am I to blithely interfere."

"But - but." Superman stammered.

"Shush ... Right now ..." She continued. "My only concern is to find a
babbling brook someplace and then kiss this fucking frog." She showed Superman
the greenish colored tailless amphibian in her hand.

"Why?" This time it was his turn to ask her a question.

"A wizard and a respected soothsayer assured me that if I were to kiss a frog,
he would soon be a prince and I a princess."

"Was the wizard European?"

"Yes ... Why?"

"Because ..." Superman laughed to himself. "Because many Europeans refer to
Frenchmen as frogs." He laughed some more only louder. "Perhaps the wizard
wasn't speaking of a literal frog?"

"Shit - oh fuck." Tiana, the Nubian beauty flung the frog away and started to
leave.

"Wait." Superman cried out to her - grateful when the lady returned using a
previously unseen kitchen knife she sliced through the cords that were holding
him down.

When Superman stood up and he could hear the sounds of an approaching train at
his back. Not ever having heard the sounds of an approaching train before
Superman could only assume that the sounds he was hearing were the sounds of
an actual train.

He spun around just in time to see the approaching train and then to feel its
impact. The conductor had made every effort to brake but the momentum of the
train could not be stopped until the engine made solid contact with the man
and that's when the engine folded up into itself as well as into the passenger
car behind.

The man of myth who was often described as being ... one who was able to leap
tall buildings in a single bound ... one who was faster than a speeding bullet
... and one who was more powerful than a locomotive.

He stood tall unaffected by the collision seemingly amused but not surprised
when the locomotive bounced right off him.

The veracity of the first two venerable axioms may never be known for certain
but the latter was now a verified fact ... More powerful than a locomotive -
indeed.

Other than his vivid and often entertaining dreams the only remaining
enjoyment in the life of the paralyzed Superman's mundane existence centered
around his conversations with his caregiver, the lovely Melissa Madison and
his visiting friends.

His only other activities were his many hours of sunbathing and his
therapeutic exercises, his expertly prepared gourmet meals, his reading of
books and magazines, watching T.V. programs; mostly sports, movies, and Buffy
the Vampire Slayer reruns, as well as his aforementioned vivid and fun dreams.

After devouring his evening meal which that night had consisted of a
twenty-four-ounce cut of imported blood-rare well-marbled Wagyu beef, an oven
roasted shrimp with parmesan risotto, fried green tomatoes, a pint of mint ice
cream with chocolate chip cookies, and a nice bottle of cabernet sauvignon
Superman headed for his bed and the awaiting arms of Morpheus the God of
Dreams. He was hoping for another interesting nocturnal interlude.

This time Superman found himself flying high in the air looking down at a
mountain side and a wooden sign, a wooden sign with large white painted
letters that identified the village below as TOON TOWN.

He could hear what appeared to be a two-legged bird like creature screaming
out a beep-beep sound as the animal sped along the ground all the while
avoiding the clutches of a cunning but inept obviously hungry salivating
coyote.

While still hovering in the air Superman turned his attention downward to a
gathering of four familiar looking animals; a pig, a bunny, a penguin, and a
mouse. The mouse was engaged in a rather heated conversation with the Penguin
... and Superman nosily listened in.

"Mickey." The Penguin who appeared to be wearing a Tuxedo was speaking in a
loud voice. "I told you. You can't divorce Minnie simply because you say she's
crazy.

"Damn it, Tennessee." Mickey was angry at his lawyer and it showed. "I didn't
say that. I didn't say Minnie was crazy. I said my wife was ... FUCKING GOOFY.

Superman dropped from the sky and alit among the four animals. Mickey and
Tennessee paid him no never mind and walked away still arguing with one
another.

"What's up doc?" The very tall bunny was speaking directly to Superman asking
him a question for which there was no obvious answer so instead Superman
whimsically asked a question of his own.

"You seem to be about six-feet-tall." Superman quietly laughed to himself. "Is
your name Harvey?"

"No silly." The bunny rabbit recognized the reference and laughed back. "If I
were a six-foot-tall rabbit named Harvey I would be invisible." The clearly
visible six-foot bunny rabbit turned on his heels, sped away with such
alacrity he had instantaneously exited the scene stage right leaving only a
wisp of bunny hair in frame.

"Silly Wascawwy Wappit." A pudgy balding hunter wearing bib-overalls and a red
and black checkered baseball style cap came onto the scene. He was brandishing
a shot gun and was in hot pursuit of the fleeing six-foot bunny.

"Superman ... Ignore that old fuddy-duddy. Concentrate on me instead." The
feminine voice calling out to him from behind was husky and throaty and sexier
than all get out. "My name is Jessica; Jessica Rabbit. Maybe you've heard of
me."

The sexy voice belonged to a feminine hybrid, a cross between a bunny rabbit
and the best parts of a Victoria Secret model. Jessica was sixty-five percent
human, thirty-five percent rabbit, and one-hundred percent Toon.

When aroused Jessica's bunny glands exuded an intoxicating irresistible scent
engendering sexual urges effecting each and every male in the vicinity. Her
stupendous female-side released sexually stimulating endorphins that were
every bit as irresistible to males. That combination thereof proved to be a
powerful aphrodisiac, a stimulant that even Superman was unable to resist.

Jessica reminded herself that she and Superman had spent countless months if
not years together in magazine book stores and magazine stands gracing the
covers of numerous comic books, magazines, and graphic novels something she
was acutely aware of but for him not so much.

The expiring publications were often piled atop one another, he facing her she
facing him. As they were being readied for disposal Jessica recognized that
their time spent together was undoubtedly an omen, a portent of happier times
to come.

When the Man of Steel turned to face the female, he was God-smacked and
immediately aroused. He was astounded by Jessica's cartoonish like
proportions. She was a slender but voluptuous statuesque temptress with a
top-heavy hour-glass-figure consisting of massive inviting 56" GG breasts, a
preposterously miniscule 18" waist, and womanly 38" hips. Jessica stood
six-feet-tall, 6-6 in her signature six-inch-high stiletto heels. She weighed
a solid athletic 150 pounds with imposing 24" peaked biceps every bit the
equal to that of the Man of Steel.

Jessica was blessed with fair, almost alabaster skin, long luxurious flaming
red hair, and sparkling amber-colored eyes. In addition, Jessica sported a
pert pink wet nose, a pair of large floppy bunny ears, a bushy little tail,
and a pair of large presumably lucky feet.

Anticipating her long sought after coupling with the Man of Steel the
bunnyesque female was surrounded by pinkish winged cartoon hearts flinting in
the air all about her. Her breasts and vulva were swelling noticeably; she
could already feel an orgasm building within her.

Superman was in awe of Jessica's unworldly physique. Voluptuous 56" GG breasts
were well beyond wondrous and in their own right both alluring and
intimidating. The Man of Steel timidly cowered away from the formidable female
Toon knowing that her peaked biceps likely packed superpowers equal to or
surpassing his own.

Jessica had been expecting a tender smitten Superman to melt in her arms as he
exhibited loving affection towards her. She harbored a libidinous sensual
attraction and Jessica was expecting an analogous corollary from him. However,
Superman instead exhibited typical boorish and sexist male attitudes seemingly
interested only in her body.

In true cartoon fashion when Superman focused his gaze on her gorgeous face
and her gigantic breasts his neck elongated, his head spun around unnaturally,
his eyeballs repeatedly popped in and out of their sockets, smoke poured from
out his ears and nostrils, while the top of his head emitted vapors of
scolding-hot steam.

For want of a better word Superman was enthralled with and mesmerized by the
lady Toon who apparently enjoyed the power of thrall over him. His trembling
legs were barely able to keep the teetering Kryptonian from falling. A
night-club comic might suggest that the Man of Steel consider suing his legs
... for non-support.

While not generally known rabbits have extraordinarily strong legs, legs that
can easily run fifty miles per hour and leap ten feet forward in a single
bound. Jessica felt compelled to demonstrate her superiority. She easily
stripped Superman naked (amused by his red, white, blue speedo). She forcibly
wrapped her stronger than just strong legs around his waist exerting her
rabbit and Toon strength not only taking his breath away but threatening to
crush his ribs in the process.

"Please stop." He emitted a pathetic moan. "You're killing me."

"Sorry baby." Jessica relaxed. "You can be sure that's not my intention." She
laughed. "Superman, I'm drawn to you ... Get it. I'm drawn to you. The only
way I would ever take your life would be if I were to inadvertently fuck you
to death."

"Do you still wish to do this?"

She lifted the naked Superhero into the air, spun him around positioning him
so she could insert his massive fifteen-inch Kryptonian penis into her wet and
hungry vagina. She squeezed her vaginal muscles together engulfing his
throbbing cock triggering unapparelled erotic sensations.

"Yes - Oh yes." He could barely speak but managed to repeat the word ... Yes,
yes, yes, oh God yes ... over and over again.

They began to rut like animals in heat, she in control. Jessica was in a
dominate position sitting atop the inert Superman's naked body controlling
everything. Each time the Man of Steel approached his climax Jessica would
tighten the walls of her vagina; expertly performing Kegel exercises by
squeezing and then relaxing her pelvic muscles preventing a quick ejaculation
prolonging his release.

"Jessica." He pleaded. "Please let me cum."

"In time." She grinned. "I'm not bad." She tells Superman. "I'm just drawn
this way." And with that she allowed the Man of Steel to splooge copious
amounts of his super semen everywhere awakening himself with his own moans and
loud cries of joy as he was hearing the fading words of the pig ... Beda, Beda
... That's All Folks.

"Oh dear." A scantily clad Melissa Madison rushed to his bedside instantly
recognizing the signs of a wet dream. She took immediate and appropriate
action. She stripped him naked, provided him a robe, disposed of his soiled
sleepwear, carried him to the bathroom, held him up under the piping hot
shower water until she finally allowed him to luxuriate in the soothing
bathwater all the while admiring his throbbing rock-hard 15" penis. The cute
caretaker lovingly took care of the Man of Steel's raging hard-on by gently
kneading his manhood engendering a satisfying euphoric conclusion; twice in
fact.

Superman spent the rest of the next day and evening in much the same manner as
every other day; sunning himself, eating great food, drinking imported beers
and wines, watching T.V., reading a book and dreaming. Once again, he hopped
into the waiting arms of Morpheus hoping for yet another stimulating
adventure.

This time Superman found himself aimlessly roaming around a seemingly deserted
portion of Weatherly Park in downtown Sunnydale when suddenly a half-dozen
sleezy rough looking individuals came into view; a very beautiful very tall
female and five sloppily dressed young males, each with severe cases of acute
acne; actually the acne was in no way cute.

It was hard to not notice the 12,000-year-old muscular six-foot-seven-inch
Turok-Han female named Bismillah who on that day was strutting about
barefooted and clad in a tight-fitting tee-shirt that showed off her 26"
peaked biceps and a skimpy thong displaying her long shapely but muscular
powerful legs.

Before Superman could react or defend himself three of the bumpy faced males
with near super human strength were on top of him; two were holding his arms
down while the third, displaying what could only be described as sharp fangs,
was unsuccessfully attempting to chomp down on his impenetrable neck.

Nonetheless, the persistent bastard was persistent and he persistently
continued to gnaw at his muscular neck. While it was extremely unlikely that
the gnawer would ever penetrate the Kryptonian's invulnerable impenetrable
skin his fangs were certain to leave a disgusting Vampire induced hickey on
his neck.

Superman was powerless against the uncommonly strong assailants; bumpy face
number one, bumpy face number two, and bumpy face number three. The Man of
Steel had little or no chance of escaping from the vampires and he watched
with growing trepidation as Bismillah the 6-7 muscular *Turok-Han lady vampire
and her two henchmen inexorably moved towards him seemingly in super-slow
motion with alacrity only to be forestalled by the appearance of Buffy the
teenaged Vampire Slayer all 5-foot-four-inches and one-hundred-fifteen-pounds
of her.

A Turok-Han possesses the same physical powers as your everyday
run-of-the-mill Sunnydale vampire albeit on a significantly higher level;
considerably more powerful and more deadly than even a Vampire Slayer. The
Turok-Han represents an ancient race of intellectually challenged
mega-vampires. However, this mega-vamp had evolved from a near moronic
Neanderthal type to a high I.Q. overly developed muscle Goddess ... The Queen
of the Vampires; if you will.

A physically overwhelmed Superman was exasperated and embarrassed by his
inability to cope with or escape from his three adversaries and he audibly
expressed his frustrations.

"Will you let me go?" Superman begged.

"No, we will not let you go." Bismillah was closing the distance between
virtually singing as were her minions.

"Will you let me go?" Superman begged some more.

"No, we will not let you go." Bismillah continued to refuse him. "We will
never let you go."

"Oh - mama Mia, mama Mia, mama Mia." Superman was sobbing. "Let me go."

"So, you think you can stop me and spit in my eye." Bismillah, the QUEEN of
the Vampires, was now directing her words towards the recently arrived Buffy
the Vampire Slayer.

Buffy had unceremoniously put an end to the frivolity by snapping the necks of
Bismillah's two companions. Bumpy faces four and five, diminishing her
entourage by forty percent. However, Bismillah was an altogether different
challenge for Buffy. Her extreme size and outlandishly proportioned biceps
were not just for show. Oh no, the imposing female was even stronger than she
looked ... and the bitch looked pretty damn strong.

Using only her left hand Bismillah throat lifted a surprised, overmatched, and
now terrified Buffy Sommers high over her head with just the one hand laughing
as little Buffy's legs churned and churned furiously while hopelessly
attempting to run away; running away to who knew where.

The mega-vamp flexed her massive pulsating outrageously peaked 26" biceps in
front of Buffy's face laughing as the Slayer suppressed welling tears. The
1,200-year-old vamp effected an unbreakable rear-naked-choke-hold on the
Slayer applying pressure until Buffy's entire body had gone limp.

Bismillah wasn't ready to end the confrontation so she easily flipped an
awakening and panicked Buffy Sommers high into the air effortlessly switching
the Slayer's body from one hand to the other before slamming the defenseless
teenager face first into the ground where she writhed in pain gasping for air.

The toothy abomination ferociously reigned her powerful fists down onto the
helpless Buffy's inert body pulverizing her impressive muscular abs while
breaking her ribs before focusing her punches on the Slayer's kidneys and
liver.

The seemingly invincible Turok-Han grabbed Buffy by the hair, pulled her to
her feet, punched her in the face a couple of times, before gleefully tossing
the Slayer more than thirty feet into the air.

At her apex Buffy began to succumb to gravity falling back to earth. However,
before landing the Slayer had managed to retrieve her back-up wooden stake
from her ankle holster. While still falling to the ground Buffy plunged her
stake into the chest of the shocked Turok-Han with her trusty wooden weapon
... The ubiquitous Mr. Pointy.

The moment Buffy alit, she somersaulted to her feet just in time to watch a
distressed Bismillah struggling to remove the stake from her heart. Buffy
executed a spinning karate kick driving the stake deeper into the heart of the
vamp and then Buffy did it again.

The second foray had done the trick. Buffy watched with glee as the
unbelieving mega-vamp mouthed the 'F' word before exploding into a messy pile
of ashes and dust.

"Toaster caked her." Buffy gleefully clapped her little hands together. "Clean
up on aisle nine." A relieved Buffy the Vampire Slayer took a deep breath and
whimsically delivered the jocular witticism.

Buffy rushed to the aid of Superman disposing of bumpy faces numbers one and
number two with a couple of quick swipes of her stake. She plunged 'Mr.
Pointy" into the back of bumpy face number three forcing it straight through
his torso into his heart. She laughed as the vampire disappeared exploding
into nothing but ashes and dust and more ashes all of which landed on
Superman's chest.

"Hi guy." The Vampire Slayer smiled. "I'm Buffy - and you are?"

"Clark, Clark Kent." Superman had used his civilian name. "I know who you are.
I've seen your television show, all 144 episodes; adding at least twice maybe
even three times. I thought you were a fictitious character."

"Nope." She smiled. "Buffy is real."

"I'm happy to hear that." Normally Superman didn't approve of people who spoke
in the third person but since Buffy was tantamount to a culture exemplar he
afforded the girl a pass.

"You're the chosen one. Right?"

"Yeah." Buffy nodded. "Funny thing ... The first time I heard people saying
that, I thought they were saying I was ... the 'frozen' one."

"That would have been cool." Superman joked. "Please, tell me. How accurate is
the T.V. show?"

"Not very." Superman listened intently. "Buffy doesn't play well with others
... No Watcher, no entourage, no Scooby Gang, no nobody ... My chronicler made
all of that up ... Buffy is expected to fight the forces of evil all alone."

Buffy went on to explain further ... During her freshman year of high school
an English teacher named Josh stumbled upon her Slayer persona ... He and she
entered into an agreement ... He would keep her secret and she would allow him
to write "fictional' stories about her which gave birth to the theatrical
movie and then the T.V. series ... The arrangement worked well for each of
them ... He was permitted to write his stories and she happily cashed in on
and shared some of the profits with him.

"Hey." She justified herself to Superman ... "A girl, even a Slayer, has got
to eat."

"Okay. I get that." Superman paused. "Where do they go?"

"Who?" Buffy looked confused.

"The Vampires ... When you stake them ... They explode into nothingness ...
Where do they go?"

"I just assumed they returned into their original state." She shrugged. "You
know. Ashes to ashes dust to dust. To me that seemed appropriate."

"Yeah, okay." Superman stroked his chin. "What about their clothes? What
happens to their clothes?"

"That's a damn good question. Perhaps the Vamps' clothes end up at Goodwill
half-off sale." She laughed at her own joke. "Seriously, in the beginning I
wondered about that, too." She shrugged. "But then I just put it out of my
mind ... It was what it was. It is what it is. Who cares?"

"I'm glad you're back." Superman nodded to the girl. "A world without Buffy is
somehow diminished." He bowed his head in respect. "Is there any chance of a
re-boot of the BTVS franchise?"

"Nope." She opened her hand revealing two crimson gem stones. "You watched the
show so you should recognize these ... *Tabula Rosa stones."

Tabula Rosa is the Latin word for 'blank slate' which is a reference to the
power of the stones to wipe out an individual's memory of all recent events.
Superman understood that within minutes he would have no recollection of his
time with Buffy.

Superman wanted to remember his encounter with Buffy the Vampire Slayer for
the rest of his life forever or even longer but he understood that he was
fighting a losing battle as he watched the image of the Slayer fading away;
blinking in and out of focus until Buffy Sommers was completely gone from his
memory replaced by the least attractive woman Superman had ever come in
contact with.

The woman's extremely long angular distended nose drooped forward nearly
touching her pointy chin. A less politically correct individual would likely
have referred to the woman as a witch.

Suddenly, without warning, a house came hurtling from out of the sky landing
on top of the ugly lady who Superman had been reluctant to call a witch.
Seemingly from out of nowhere dozens and dozens and even more little people
appeared. All shouting ... Ding Dong, the witch is dead - The wicked witch is
dead.

"Take the shoes. Take her red shoes." The clear leader of the little people
was admonishing the pretty blonde girl to grab a pair of ruby red slippers
from the feet of the smushed witch. The blonde's entourage; a man dressed like
a lion, a scarecrow like individual, and a tin man were silently milling
about; all trembling with fear.

"Follow the yellow brick road. Go see the Wizard." The little guy sounded
frantic. "Quick, before she comes."

"Before she comes?" Superman interjected himself into the conversation. "Who
she?" He asked ungrammatically.

"Her." The little people were all pointing to the skies at a female riding on
a broom. The witchy woman alit directly in front of Superman and directed her
flying monkey army to attack the pretty blonde girl and her friends, the
little people, and the tall guy. The flying simians obediently did just that
all the while singing the Monkees' biggest hit song ... Day Dream Believe ...
Which seemed appropriate to the dreaming Man of Steel.

The Wicked Witch of the North, applying black magic, had encased Superman in a
paralyzing gel rendering him unable to move a muscle. He was in deep shit and
both he and she knew it ... If this were a dream and he suspected it was, he
so wanted to wake up.

"Here I come to save the day." A yellow and red clad flying mouse was
inserting himself into the fray which was good news for Superman, the girl and
her friend, and the little people. The mighty mouse was carrying a huge tub of
water which he dropped several galloons of H20 onto the distressed witch.

"I'm melting." She screamed. "I'm melting."

"Wake up." Superman felt himself being nudged awake by Batman. "We have good
news for you."

"Great news." Superman recognized the female voice as one belonging to
Supergirl.

Superman raised himself up in his bed with the help of Melissa Madison his
lovely loving caregiver. When he scanned his bedroom he spied none other than
his arch-enemy Lex Luther. His nemesis was trussed up like the movie serial
killer Hannibal Lector who was affixed to a large hand truck, trussed up in a
strait jacket, and a replica of the doctor's iconic mask.

"Is he dangerous?" Superman pointed at Luther.

"Nope." Batman smiled. "Not so much anymore."

"He's been neutered." Supergirl laughed mischiefly. "An explosive device has
been implanted in his head. Should Luther step out of line he will be
lobotomized from within. Kara snickered. Right now, we're punishing Lex just
for the fun of it."

Superman's two best friends in the world took turns revealing much ... First,
it was explained to the Man of Steel that he had been attacked and rendered
helpless by one of Luther's diabolical creations ... A seven-foot-tall nuclear
powered artificial humanoid that was at least ten-times more powerful than the
Kryptonian superhero. He or it or whatever approached Superman ostensibly
seeking an autograph.

The strongest man in the world had been caught completely off guard when Lex's
creation (who Lex had named Arnold in tribute to the Terminator) grabbed
Superman's jaw with two powerful hands and easily snapped his neck resulting
in his near death and his year-long paralysis.

The mad genius had major plans for Arnold and his companion robots but much to
Luther's chagrin before he could enact any of those plans, the beast's
enhanced uranium power source inexplicably exploded completely destroying the
seven-foot abomination leaving several unrecognizable pieces of itself in its
wake.

Almost immediately following the attack on Superman law enforcement agencies
from around the world began to investigate the matter. Agents from Homeland
Security, the FBI, the CIA, and the M.C.P.D. (Metropolis City Police
Department) as well as international law enforcement agencies from Interpol,
Scotland Yard, MI-6, etc. combined their resources all pitching in. The
formation of the Superman Investigation Federal Taskforce (S.I.F.T) was
established ensuring that agents from around the world would work in concert
seeking answers.

Metropolis Police Lieutenant Kate Reckett and police consultant Richard Palace
in the course of investigating a totally unrelated murder case stumbled upon
evidence that broke the Superman assault case wide open.

Richard Palace was a highly successful multi-millionaire best-selling author
of mystery novels whose rugged good looks had made him one of the most
eligible bachelors in the land and a hit with the ladies. It is said that
Palace, who works as a consultant with the M.C.P.D., gets more ass than the
toilet seats at the Metropolis Ladies' Correctional Facility.

Not to be outdone his breathtaking partner, Lieutenant Kate Reckett, who may
be the hottest best-looking female cop in the country was on her way to be
appointed Captain of the precinct. Her gorgeous face along with her lithe and
sensuous perfectly proportioned body would stop traffic at the Indy 500.

Either by luck or simply by happenstance the two genetically blessed 'cops'
found themselves in a Lex-Corp storage facility where they discovered eleven
unarmed but totally operable seven-foot-tall robots, robots that had led the
duo and the FBI directly to Lex Luther and his diabolic scheme to incapacitate
Superman and take over the world ... yada, yada, yada.

All eleven remaining robots were appropriated by the Defense Department on
behalf of the recently elected President of the United States, Will Newcome.
Many people from the Blue States and from around the world feared that his
name was a harbinger of things to come and portent of future uglier times.

Setting all of that aside for the moment Supergirl appraised Superman of the
'great' news she had alluded to earlier. She explained to Superman that Batman
and his team of scientists and medical people, after exhaustive tests,
submerged the needed surgical instruments in liquified Kryptonite which
allowed for said surgical instruments to be able to penetrate his impenetrable
skin making the operation on his spinal cord possible.

Wasting no time Superman was wheeled into a make shift operating room where a
team of esteemed neurosurgeons who specialized in spinal cord restoration as
well as more conventional spinal cord specialists worked in concert performing
the operation in less than an hour.

The surgery was pronounced a resounding success and Superman regained the use
of his lower extremities within days. The world rejoiced as word of Superman's
miraculous recovery spread across the globe.

However, the Man of Steel and the self-proclaimed 'Protector of the Planet'
had a daunting task facing him ... How to combat the eleven seven-foot super
bots being readied for combat by President Newcome.

Superman in Peril ... by the Elder Barry ... 5,400 words ... to be continued?

(A special thanks to Ed Kapatio for the suggested title of this story)