F Is For....

You don't want to get ladies mad- at least not these super-powered ones...

This story originally appeared in a different form on Medium.

I.

It started with a knock at my door.

Since summer had just begun, I was at home, passing away time until school began in September. Not that I was idle. Being one of the mightiest superheroes on Earth means that, inevitably, somebody will be calling on me to use my powers to help them for some reason or another. I’ve been used to that ever since I came to Earth from my home planet with my parents, and was transformed almost overnight from weak and disabled to super-powerful. Most of the time, it’s relatively minor stuff I can handle easily. But, once in a while, there are bigger games afoot. I pay attention to those things- especially if it involves my friends, or they involve me, and a lot beyond us is at stake.

Consider this story one of those big occasions.

*

Not wanting to be rude or inconsiderate, I opened the door.

Standing there was a teenage girl considerably taller than me, with hair that was as red as mine was blonde, in a white shirt and blue jeans. She looked at me with fear and anxiety in her eyes, as black as mine were blue. I didn’t need to ask who she was or why she was here, because I knew both of those things.

She was Candace Van Draanen, a.k.a. Candy Girl, the mightiest specimen among teenage girls on Earth, as I was among pre-adolescent ones. We had met and bonded through previous adventures, and were both members of the International League of Girls With Guns, along with some other double-x heroes we met and befriended the same way.

(Yes, it’s a dumb name, but it’ll have to do until we find something better.)

Normally, we didn’t see each other much outside of League get-togethers, since I live in Canada (Manitoba, to be precise) and she’s American. So, for her to have come north to visit me must have meant something was up. She wouldn’t have done it otherwise.

And so, as I smoothed my pink skirt down over my white stockings and adjusted the collar of my white blouse, I got the information out of her.

“Hey, Candy,” I said, calmly. “Is something the matter?”

“Why else would I be here, Gerda?” she said, addressing me by my “real” human name. “You know none of us like wasting time on trivial stuff.”

“That depends on what you think is ‘trivial’,” I said, crossing my arms. “You know we don’t always agree on that.”

“Of course not. But this is a big thing.”

“Spill it.”

“Have you heard of Tophet?”

“No. What is it- some dumb RPG thing?”

“I only wish. It’s worse. Some sort of real right-wing whack job thing.”

I nodded. That sort of thing was getting way too common nowadays.

“Only,” Candy added, “these guys are aliens.”

“Of course,” I answered, with sarcasm. “Only aliens would think that that idea was a good way to live your life right now. But why the weird name?”

“Beats me. It’s probably a fake name they’re using to get on the Internet, ‘cause their real one is too racist to utter into the great digital unknown without consequences. Anyway, these bozos think that if they unite everybody who thinks the same way as them, they can conquer the world, and nobody can stop them.”

“Well, they aren’t alone in thinking that. There are plenty of bozos who think that way on Earth right now, and have conned people into voting them into political office.”

“Especially that bastard Roland Crump. I can’t believe people elected him as-”

“If he acted out in public as badly as he does online, somebody would kill him.”

“Like me.”

The murderous tone in Candy’s voice was matched by the menacing scowl often borne by her secret identity during battle. Even though I was in no danger from her, I stepped back an inch.

“Sorry, G,” she said, putting a friendly arm around me. “You know how I am…”

“Never mind,” I said, sharply, moving out of her grasp. “You know that morally upright superheroes don’t commit murder, Candy. Great power and great responsibility and all that. Let’s focus on trying to deal with Tophet. I only know what you told me about them. You got any more info?”

“Not much. Only what Cerberus told me before we got here. She…”

Then a panicked look came upon her.

“What?” I asked.

“I….left her tied up to a parking meter!”

“Candy! How could you? She’s our friend and colleague. And my mentor! That’s disgraceful! You know how she likes being treated like a common member of her species!”

“I couldn’t help it. She had to do her….business….and I didn’t want to bother her. So I slipped into a shop and looked around. I got consumed in that and forgot about her. I’m sorry, it’s just…”

“…because you have Asperger’s syndrome, and stuff like that happens to people like you,” I concluded, filling out her standard excuse for goofing up when it happens. “I know, Candy. Just go and get her, and then both of you come back. Seriously: we need her help. She knows more than both of us combined when it comes to intergalactic politics. That’s really saying something, considering what we’ve picked up of it in our adventures. Besides, it’ll give me time to put my uniform on, and you to switch into battle mode with your power ring.”

“She’ll be so mad…” Candy said, fearfully.

“Oh, she’ll forgive you, I’m sure. You know what she’s like. Just go. We have to stop this Tophet stuff before it starts.”

II.

I went to my room, drew the blinds on the windows, and changed from my civilian identity and clothes into the dark pink and pure white suit that I wear on duty as the all-powerful Muscle Girl. Normally, it doesn’t take long, what with me being super-fast, but I was even quicker that day. I think it must have been because the threat of an evil alien invasion put fear into me, even though I don’t scare very easily.

It was a good thing I did, too.

Just as I exited my house, a loud commotion occurred in the street. Candy was running up the block, screaming for her very life. Behind her, a small and deceptively meek-looking Dalmatian puppy was chasing her furiously, growling and barking aggressively, and periodically making a stab at biting Candy’s ankles and butt. Finally, she caught Candy in the latter part of her body, and Candy screamed bloody murder at top volume. She shook her attacker free, and, after mumbling a small incantation, transformed herself into her all-powerful, purple-wearing secret identity, Candy Girl.

“How ‘bout you try that now?” she snapped.

The dog ripped off the top of its pelt, revealing a white T shirt with a prominent letter “C” in the center. For she was none other than Cerberus, the Princess of Puppies, the mightiest, fastest and most intelligent dog in the universe. She growled furiously at Candy once again, revealing all of her fangs- which could cut, rend and wound absolutely anything in their path. Even other superheroes.

“You know what I can do,” she snapped, in a voice that was both sweetly feminine and aggressively cunning. “And you know you deserve it for what you did to me.”

They looked at each other vindictively, and seemed prepared to clash. At that point, I intervened, speedily coming between them.

“All right, you two,” I ordered, coupling my words with a sharp glance at both of them so they knew I meant business. “That’ll be enough of that.”

They reflected silently, took deep breaths, and calmed down right away.

“How do you suppose we’re going to defeat an enemy if we keep fighting each other?” I asked, rhetorically. “Real mature, girls.”

“It’s not like I didn’t do anything to make up for it,” said Candy. “Didn’t I say I was sorry, Cerb’?”

“You did,” said Cerberus. “I should have accepted your apology. Only being out in this heat drove me mad. You try being outside in this weather with a fur pelt on!”

“It’ll be a lot cooler once we get out into space to fight Tophet,” I told her, changing the subject. “I suspect you already did some recon work on them, right?”

“Certainly,” Cerberus drawled, in her cutest tone.

“So what’s their deal?” I asked.

“They’re a spiritual movement-cum-private army, based out of an old U.S. Space Force base,” Cerberus continued, now all-business. “It was started by an émigré American, a nut-job right-winger named Alec Johnson, who used to be a radio personality out somewhere in Texas before he got his ass fired for saying the wrong stuff on air….”

“I’ve heard of him,” interjected Candy. “He made a lot of money peddling his whacko conspiracy theories to the few ill-informed people who supported him. But then, all the social media networks blacklisted him for spewing out hate speech all the time.”

“Correct,” said Cerberus. “So he took his money and bought the base from the government- along with the weaponry that was there. Missiles, drones, robot soldiers, that sort of thing. He’s supplemented that by surreptitious recruiting of followers across the galaxy through the same drivel he used to speak on the air here. It’s all about how he supposedly represents the values of the “real” America- i.e. the racist white Anglo-Saxon one- and how he’s going to use what he has going for him now to overthrow the current government and install himself in its place. Typical Fascist rhetoric. Hitler, Mussolini, Stalin, Castro and Mao all did the same thing to get attention and consolidate their power.”

“Hang on, Cerb’,” said Candy. “Stalin, Castro and Mao were Communists.”

“They just said they were Communists,” was the response. “Their kind of Communism was not the one that Marx and Engels envisioned. That is: all of the people in the community sharing the work and the wealth that was produced equally. Fascism, in contrast, involves everyone in the community working for a single-minded government- and a single-minded leader.”

“Never thought of it like that,” said Candy, reflectively.

“Well, what we don’t want,” I said, “is him taking over. We’ve got enough trouble on this planet with right-wing fringe groups and governments as it is right now. If he manages to find a way to unite all of them into a common cause….”

“Game over for us freedom-loving heroines,” agreed Cerberus. She stretched herself into a take-off position. “Best we not waste any more time here jabbering.”

Candy and I copied her stance, and soon we were off into the air, and then off Earth. Our destination was the current headquarters of supreme evil in the galaxy.

III.

It wasn’t too hard for us to find Johnson and company once we arrived at the place where Tophet was currently stationed and landed there. Through some amped-up audio equipment, Johnson was in the business of dressing down his opponents in a fiery speech, and we could hear his every word as he kept it up. I need not repeat the words he was saying, as they were tactlessly offensive.

“Is there anything this guy actually likes about Earth?” Candy said, as we could hear him more clearly the closer we approached his hideout. “Probably better that he stays out here if he’s not gonna play nice.”

“We’re here to see that he does,” I said. “But whether he listens to us is another….”

“INCOMING!” shouted Cerberus.

Sure enough, our arrival on the planet hadn’t gone unnoticed. We were beset by the forces Johnson was using for his defense. Drones swept in, firing lasers rapidly. On the ground, to accompany them, were what seemed to be dozens of armed robot soldiers, all outfitted in the same fashion.

“They all seem to be operating together,” I observed. “Like they have a hive mind.”

“I told you,” said Cerberus. “That’s what Fascism is.”

“Well, I’m ready for them, whatever they are,” said Candy. “You girls ready?”

Cerberus and I both nodded.

We went into battle with the nefarious machines and soldiers. They were clearly built to last by the standards of whoever built them, but whoever that was never considered that they would have to face the muscles and minds of super-heroines in action. Candy and I were able to use our strength to crunch a fair number of the drones as if they were oversized houseflies, and our strength, speed and agility, coupled with the green light from Candy’s ring, meant the end of a fair number of the robot soldiers. Cerberus used her very loud sonic bark and its massive accompanying waves to destabilize the others, and then tore through the metal outfits of their few human handlers with her powerful fangs. Then, lifting one up by her tail- which is even stronger than the rest of her body- she was able to coerce one of said operatives to turn cowardly, and give us the info we needed to hack into Johnson’s security system and disable the force field he was using for protection.

That was just the break we needed. It meant that we wouldn’t have to fight our way through any more of his minions- if there were any of them left, that is- if we wanted to beard the lion in his den like we wanted. The three of us were able to breathe a sigh of relief.

But not for long, as it turned out.

IV.

Using the information we had just gathered, we were able to use the password we had forced out of Johnson’s staff to gain admittance to the building. There were some more of his staff members inside, but these ones were all humans. So they were more fallible than the drones and robots, and could be reasoned with, if necessary. Not that we had any trouble with them. We were all recognized immediately, as they were familiar with our previous group and solo adventures. Not wanting us to use the vast extent of our collective powers on them, they let us walk to Johnson’s door without hassling us in the least.

Sometimes, it pays to be famous.

We could hear him continuing to blather on with his distortions of the truth behind his thick office door. He ignored my forceful knock, so Candy blasted the door into smithereens with a mighty kick, and we were finally able to face him.

Or we would have been, had he been facing us. He had ignored our entrance entirely, as he was continuing to broadcast into his microphone. The huge headphones he wore over his head had prevented him from hearing or even noticing our arrival.

“What a surprise,” muttered Candy, sarcastically. “Not even we can keep him from his appointed rounds.”

“Allow me,” said Cerberus.

Without his even seeming to notice, she spun him around on his chair, got hold of one side of his headphones, and barked loudly into his ear. That finally got his attention. He fell down on the ground with his ears ringing for a few moments before he finally got up. Then, with what for him passed for composure, he attempted to address us. But I had a good idea of what he was going to say, and cut him off before he could speak.

“NO!” I roared. “You’ve said enough today as it is. We’ve heard your rhetoric non-stop since we got on this rock, and it’s not to our liking. Right now, you’re going to listen to someone else talk, for once.

“We know what you were planning to do, Johnson. You thought that you could just use whatever weapons the Space Force left behind here, and then the world would just drop down and do your bidding, just like that. A total and complete empire, in all of the United States, and possibly the rest of the world, ready and willing to enforce and maintain your biased and flawed worldview without question. You really saw that daydream happening, didn’t you?

“Well, now it won’t. We’ve destroyed your weapons. All of them. Your plan didn’t involve having them encounter superheroes, did you? And, if you thought those pitiful lackeys you call a security staff were going to keep us out if the weapons failed, think again. They didn’t stop us from getting to you at all.

“And they won’t stop me from letting you know what you really are, instead of the vainglorious proto-American Hitler you clearly see yourself as. You, sir, are a miserable excuse for a human being who has no understanding or feeling for anyone who doesn’t share your viewpoint. They might as well not exist, for all you care. And that is not true. We do exist. And we comprise all the people who you insist on demeaning and writing off. Maybe a long time ago you could murder and intimidate your way into power and force your opponents to remain silent, but that time is gone- if it ever existed in the first place.

“So what’s it gonna be, pal? Are you going to apologize for all your ranting, and learn how to live in peace with other people on Earth, like you should? Or are we gonna have to get rough with you?”

Johnson had been temporarily intimidated during my rant, but, once I threatened violence, he seemed to become enraged again.

“Yew?” he drawled, in the patois of his native state, with a tough sounding laugh. “Yew are gonna force me to change mah ways? Ah ain’t doin’ nothin’ to change how I speak an’ think! Ah didn’t let them social media assholes stop me when they threw me all off their supposedly “free” digital space for violatin’ their ass-coverin’ “hate speech” policies. They didn’t even tell me they had them damned things, let alone that I done “violated” ‘em, until some of them foreigners done objected and tattled on me! They done ruined me, and drove me out to this place. And yew loud-mouthed “superhero” bitches ain’t done me no favors, neither!”

“Watch your mouth!” Cerberus warned him, with a growl.

“Ah have to watch mah mouth?” he shot back. “Oh, yeah. That’s how it always is now. Mah fella white men and I got to watch what th’ hell we say, and all of yew gets to blather whatever th’ hell you want and get whatever you want done, besides. And all yew want is to pree-vent white men from having decent God-fearin’ lives like we’re sup-posed to in ‘Merica!”

“Well, if they’re empty-headed morons like you, who think the world owes them a living because they’re American white men, and for no other good reason, you should be “pree-vented” from enjoying yourself,” snapped Candy. “Especially if you can’t do a job that those so-called “foreigners” of yours can do much better.”

“Listen, bitches!” Johnson retorted. “ ‘Merica was started by white men like me, and it belongs to white men like me! End of story. You ain’t gonna change that.”

“Oh, really?” retorted Cerberus. “And what historical evidence can you produce that it “belongs” to Anglo-Saxon bigots like you? Where does it say, anywhere, in your precious Declaration of Independence, Constitution and Bill of Rights that white men are and will always be superior in comparison to anyone else?”

He hesitated. Obviously, he had never been in a position where anyone who spoke to him was brave enough to call his bluff, as we were doing. So he was in a bind, and he knew it.

“My point exactly,” Cerberus concluded. “When it was written in the Declaration of Independence that “all men are created equal”, they didn’t mean only the creatures in America with white skin and xy chromosomes. They meant humanity. Everyone! It only looks like they meant men because of the way the language worked then. But, if you read between the lines, it’s pretty obvious what they really meant, isn’t it?”

Johnson was clearly outraged, but he knew that he wasn’t much of a match for us, physically or mentally. So he actually seemed to be thinking about what he said before he made his next move, for once. Finally, he spoke again.

“Lissen,” he said. “Ah think we can work somethin’ out heah that’ll work for all of us. Ah’m willin’ ta give this whole dictator of Earth thing up and come back with ya.”

“Well, that’s rather sporting of you,” said Cerberus.

“On one condition,” he said.

“What?” I asked, rolling my eyes.

“Ah gets to do it with Stilts over there,” he leered, pointing to Candy. “And she has to make sure not to fake it!”

The impudence of the man! Here he was, on thin ice with us already, and now this?

Candy, in particular, deeply disliked this idea, and cupped her hand around his throat to show it, while lifting him up with her strength.

“You SLIMEBALL!” she roared. “How dare you! I am not a WHORE!” She viciously dropped him on the ground at this point. “If I ever make love to a man, it’ll be because it’s somebody that I love and trust. Not some half-assed piece of white trash!”

That made him mad again.

“Now y’all have done it!” he said. “Now I’m gonna have to use my rod on all y’all!”

He pulled a large gun out, and fondled it. The three of us play-acted at being scared at the thought of being shot by him, with horrified and pleading looks on our faces. But once he emptied the chambers, quickly and desperately, we were still standing. He had forgotten- if he even knew in the first place- that we were all bullet-proof.

“Let’s go, coward,” I demanded. “Justice on Earth awaits for you.”

“Not for me, baby,” he said. “Ah just gots to find another place to play. YEE-HAW!”

Before any of us were able to lay a hand or paw on him, he had jumped out the nearest window with a loud crash of shattering glass. In his delirium, he assumed he could just run like he could on Earth, and thus he could run to the nearest spaceship, and take off to whatever he wanted.

Unfortunately, he had reckoned without the atmospheric differences between Earth and this other place. We super-heroines have super-bodies, in every sense of the word. So we aren’t affected the way normal human beings are when oxygen is not the primary gas that is breathed by living organisms on a planet, and you aren’t wearing a space suit that provides you with that oxygen. So it wasn’t a surprise that, as soon as Johnson strode outside without that benefit, he collapsed and died immediately. And with him, his dream of a Fascist America under his control.

V.

“Well, I guess that’s it,” I said. “He caused his own death, and we’re rid of him.”

“If only the crumbs who thought the same way he did could be gotten rid of so easily,” added Candy. “But they can’t. That just makes me so mad.”

“You’re not the only one who thinks like that, Candy,” said Cerberus. “Not by a long shot. But we can still have hope that things can change, for the better.”

“Of course,” I said. “Fascism might be a powerful and tempting ideology, but it’s no match for an even more powerful way of thinking that’ll always have it beat.”

“What’s that?” Candy asked.

“Feminism,” Cerberus said, sticking her chest out proudly. “Because there’s nothing that a gang of smart, strong and brave girls can’t accomplish when they put their minds to it. Especially when they know that the cause they’re fighting for is the right one. Even the strongest of men is no match for a determined group of women.”

Candy and I could find nothing else to add to that.

Because we agreed with her completely.

More adventures of the Girls: