The phone rang one sunny morning at stately O'Flannagan Manor... okay, Hephaestus 1's gentrified apartment in the High Park district of Kings Row. Heph picked up on his internal phone.

"Hello?" Heph asked.

"Uh, hi, Sergeant O'Flannagan," a voice said over the phone, pausing for the requisite beep that let both callers know the call was likely being recorded. "I'm Patrolman John Penobscot with the Paragon City Police Department. I was given your number by Assistant Chief Dooley from SWAT."

"I didn't do it," Heph said. "If you have anything else to say, you'll have to go through the legal firm of Chris Jenkins, Attorney at Law."

"Uhm, no," the police officer said. "Chief Dooley was requesting your assistance in serving a warrant."

"I'm retired," Heph said. "I have a new job that isn't superhero or law enforcement-related. Please leave me alone."

"Well, this requires your special artistic touch, Sergeant O'Flannagan. Your improvisational ability, if you will, is needed," Penobscot said.

"Look, there are other active superheroes out there. I am inactive. Let me sleep in peace, okay?"

"Chief Dooley said to mention the incident at The Showroom Robot Gentleman's Club if you declined."

"Crap!" Heph grumbled. "Fine, I'll be there. Stupid bachelor parties turned into robot genocide campaigns..."

Hephaestus 1 arrived at police headquarters in his now-usual golf shirt and khakis. In keeping tradition with being a retiree, he also wore sandals with black socks. He shared some small talk with his old contacts and was ushered into Assistant Chief Dooley's office.

"Sorry to bother you, Mickey, but this is an operation where I need your help," Dooley said. "I would have called Fang in on this, but he doesn't quite have the visual presence that you do."

Heph's "WTF?" eyebrow rose. "Visual presence?"

"You're big and very noticeable. We need that. You're also good at creating a scene. We need that, too. The SWAT unit is serving a warrant at an old ambulance company. One of the owners' kids is trying to turn their old maintenance garage into an Excelsior lab. The owner needs our help in getting the kid and his lab equipment out, since he's attracting Freaks. We were wondering if you could provide a distraction long enough for us to get a team into the garage so we can seize the equipment."

"Oh, you want a distraction? Is that all? I thought this was going to be something stupid, like work."

"So you'll do it?"

Heph's mind worked quickly. "I have an idea. But it will require me to get paid AND to get a few things at Icon. The PD will pay for that, right?"

Dooley paled. "Well, we have a budget of about three hundred dollars we can spare for Icon."

"Done," Heph said. "I'll also need your induction-loop equipment for making sure the Freaks pick up the audio."

"It's yours."

Heph scribbled down a number on a sticky note. "This is what I charge per hour for labor, prep, psych profiling and insurance."

Dooley looked at the figure. "That's highway robbery!"

"I'm sure you can get someone else to do this, then. Good Day."

"Wait! No! Fine! We'll do it. You're the only one who can do this," Dooley said.

"I love the smell of capitalism in the morning," Heph said. "Smells like victory. And money. Can't forget the money."

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DocSaluki - @jchinds

Yes, I'm the madman behind the 575 pounds of awesome that is Hephaestus 1. (He's not gone, as long as you keep him in your heart!) I'm not responsible for your nightmares or broken minds, though.

So long, Providence, Hello, Detroit.

((Dear $deity, why do I see Emmy being called in for the profiling detail? ))

Ashes to ashes,
DJ Pheonyx

_________________

DJ Pheonyx of The Cape Radio
Global Name: @Pheonyx

Hephaestus 1 knocked on the ambulance company's locked door. People were giving him a wide berth in his disguise: a large reddish-brown fright wig, ironic glasses, a sleeveless t-shirt and some kind of shorts that looked like the unholy spawn of Zubaz and Hypercolor. A sound of feet shuffling up to the door and scrambling away in abject fear carried to Heph's ears. He knocked again and this time waved his old badge in front of the door's peephole. The door opened up slightly.

"Good Lord, Officer!" the older EMT said. "What kind of non-Euclidean monstrosity did THIS to you?"

Heph lifted the wig off of his head. The EMT sighed in relief. "Oh, hey! It's TV's Hephaestus 1! I would never have recognized you in that wig! Everyone knows that Hephaestus-class cyborgs can't wear hats!" the EMT said.

"Uh, yeah. Look. The SWAT Team and I are gonna be busy out back in that garage. Make sure none of your people go out there until the scene supervisor gives you the OK. Good day to you." Heph slipped the wig on over his antennae and pointed to police technician in charge of the induction loop sound system. The technician flipped a few switches and monitored a sound readout on his computer.

"Well, time to do what I do best because I'm the best at what I do," Heph said as he strutted into the line of sight of the garage's slightly open door.

Behind Heph was a dry ice fog and laser show that seemed to appear out of nowhere. The Mysterious Dr. Nambu's drone research lab really helped out here, as did his disguise wig. A beat thumped out of some nearby woofers as Heph's strut turned into a slide and then into a dance routine.

Yeah, yeah
When I walk on by, girls be looking like damn he fly
I pimp to the beat, walking on the street in my new lafreak, yeah
This is how I roll, animal print, pants outta control,
It's Redfoo with the big afro
And like Bruce Leroy I got the glow

Heph fired up some of his defense systems to provide a proper glow.

Ah... Girl look at that body
Ah... Girl look at that body
Ah... Girl look at that body
Ah... I work out
Ah... Girl look at that body
Ah... Girl look at that body
Ah... Girl look at that body
Ah... I work out

When I walk in the spot (yeah), this is what I see (ok)
Everybody stops and they staring at me
I got a passion in my pants and I ain't afraid to show it, show it, show it, show it

At this point, Heph tore the shorts off of his legs to reveal a very small, very brightly colored competition-style pair of swim trunks. The major difference is that these were from Icon's Independence Port shop, where he'd brainstormed with Lauren to find the ultimate pattern: from a distance of about ten feet or more away, Heph's suit looked like it was digitally blurred out like an episode of "Cops." He got the idea from a novelty bath towel and had to run with it. He then began shaking his large metal butt to the beat as lasers bounced off of his blue metal skin.

I'm sexy and I know it
I'm sexy and I know it

Yeah
When I'm at the mall, security just can't fight them off
And when I'm at the beach, I'm in a Speedo trying to tan my cheeks (what)
This is how I roll, come on ladies it's time to go
We headed to the bar, baby don't be nervous
No shoes, no shirt, and I still get serviced (watch)

At this point, a couple of Freakshow Tanks stumbled out of the garage to see if they were hallucinating or not. "4r3 y0u s331ng 7h15, m4n?" one Freak said to the other.

"1 533 17 4nd 17 5c4r35 m3 70 v3ry c0r3," the other Freak said. "4w350m3 d4nc1ng, 7h0ugh."

"1nd33d," the first Freak said. "L1k3 a v3ry 53xy 4u70 4cc1d3n7."

Ah... Girl look at that body
Ah... Girl look at that body
Ah... Girl look at that body
Ah... I work out
Ah... Girl look at that body
Ah... Girl look at that body
Ah... Girl look at that body
I work out

When I walk in the spot (yeah), this is what I see (ok)
Everybody stops and they staring at me
I got passion in my pants and I ain't afraid to show it, show it, show it, show it

I'm sexy and I know it
I'm sexy and I know it

The Freakshow Tanks weren't sure why they were doing this, but both seemed compelled to take up positions at Heph's side as background dancers. They began trying to clumsily imitate the bumping, grinding, popping and sliding of the big blue cyborg.

I'm sexy and I know it...

Check it out
Check it out

There are some things that should remain unseen by man. One of these is Freakshow Tanks tearing their main pelvic maintenance hatches off of their bodies in a crude striptease, then following along with Hephaestus 1 as wiggles in a manner most frisky towards an intended audience.

Wiggle, wiggle, wiggle, wiggle, wiggle yeah
Wiggle, wiggle, wiggle, wiggle, wiggle yeah
Wiggle, wiggle, wiggle, wiggle, wiggle yeah
Wiggle, wiggle, wiggle, wiggle, wiggle yeah, yeah
Do the wiggle man
I do the wiggle man
Yeah
I'm sexy and I know it

At this point, the ambulance company owner's son staggered out of the shop, leaving the garage door wide open. The SWAT team waited a few seconds, gave Heph a thumbs-up signal and sneaked into the garage to seize the equipment.

"What the hell are you guys doing out here? This place is more fabulous than the Talos Island Pride Parade with all the colors and flashing lights and lasers and OH GOD MY EYES!" the owner's son screamed in purest terror. "I'LL SEE THAT COMING AT ME IN MY SLEEP!" he cried, futilely attempting to claw his own eyes out.

Ah... Girl look at that body
Ah... Girl look at that body
Ah... Girl look at that body
Ah... I work out
Ah... Girl look at that body
Ah... Girl look at that body
Ah... Girl look at that body
Ah... I work out

The song ended from the sound system and Heph retrieved the carefully-folded search warrant from inside his tiny, tiny swimsuit. "Hi, Paragon City Police Department. I'm presenting you with a search warrant for your property to look for Excelsior synthesizing equipment."

"AAAAAAAAHHHHHH MAKE IT STOP!" the young man screamed. Heph made another signal and the light and sound show stopped. He removed the giant fright wig from his head and flipped his neck chain over to reveal his badge.

"Oh, hey, it's TV's Hephaestus 1!" the young man said in a moment of lucidity. "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS HOLY MAKE THE AGONIZING SIGHT STOP!"

"I... should have expected that," Heph said. He opened a panel on his forearm and hit the bright red "EMERGENCY TROUSERS" button. A perfectly-tailored pair of khaki trousers teleported to Heph, who slid them on quickly. "Anyway, my work is done." Heph walked back to the SWAT command post.

Heph stopped for a moment. "Or is it?" he asked with malicious glee.

He turned back and gave the owner's son a look.

Yeah I'm sexy and I know it!

The company owner's son curled up into a ball and began gibbering to himself.

"Okay, now I'm done. Good day to you."

Heph made it back to the command post unscathed. "So, show of hands. Who's permanently traumatized by what they've seen?"

A dozen hands shot up.

"Tell it to your supervisor since he hired me and tell it to my lawyers since it's their job to do something about it and because apparently none of you read the instructions which stated in large red letters 'DO NOT EVEN SO MUCH AS GLANCE AT HEPHAESTUS 1'S GROINAL REGION FOR THE PERIOD OF THE DIVERSIONARY TACTIC' despite signing said instructions to agree that you read and understood them. That's all I have to say about it. Now I'm going to go home and watch sports."

Heph went home and watched sports until it was time to go to his real job as the host of Sportsovernight, the sports talk show that celebrates the weird in sports and mocks the stupid in sports. Some of it was hockey. Some of it was basketball. Some of it was baseball, but it was all sports. This made Heph a happy man.

_________________
DocSaluki - @jchinds

Yes, I'm the madman behind the 575 pounds of awesome that is Hephaestus 1. (He's not gone, as long as you keep him in your heart!) I'm not responsible for your nightmares or broken minds, though.

So long, Providence, Hello, Detroit.

WHAT.... THE.... GLLRRRGGLLAAAAGGHHHHHHLLLLBLLLLLLL......

_________________

JC, you are a mad genius. Seriously, that was hysterically awesome. *dies laughing in her cube*

_________________

@Wyldnytes
Champions Online: @wyldamethyst
The Secret World: DJ-Amethyst

Wyldnytes on Twitter!
DJ Amethyst on Twitter!
YIM: wyldturtle
e-mail: wyldturtle@gmail.com

I was tempted to have Heph backed by a mariachi band in addition to the sexy sexy dance routine. That idea was scrapped for being too silly. Also in game mechanics terms this is the one time his stun and psi damage procs hit simultaneously on a regular basis.

_________________
DocSaluki - @jchinds

Yes, I'm the madman behind the 575 pounds of awesome that is Hephaestus 1. (He's not gone, as long as you keep him in your heart!) I'm not responsible for your nightmares or broken minds, though.

So long, Providence, Hello, Detroit.

((Jesus CHRIST, man, just cause the Blues lost ... seriously, though, that was epic. You are an insane genius))

_________________


Del "DJ Nexus" Sawyer
Champions Online: @gyronnygeek | The Secret World: DJ-Nexus (game) gyronnygeek (forums)
Gtalk/Email: gyronnygeek@gmail.com | YIM/AIM/Skype: gyronnygeek | Twitter/Facebook/Tumblr: gyronnygeek

Nah, Lucky's the Blues fan. Heph's a Blackhawks fan. Back Yard Boom is a Bruins fan, neither the Cobalt Claymore nor Paperwork Ninja have declared a team yet (but they'll have to soon enough), and Emo Catgirl is an Islanders fan because she finds Al Montoya inexplicably sexy. It's probably the hurt-comfort fic fan in her due to his injuries. He might be able to handle Claire without breaking like DiPietro would.

Yes, every character with few exceptions plays and/or follows one sport or another. It helps me fine-tune their personalities.

_________________
DocSaluki - @jchinds

Yes, I'm the madman behind the 575 pounds of awesome that is Hephaestus 1. (He's not gone, as long as you keep him in your heart!) I'm not responsible for your nightmares or broken minds, though.

So long, Providence, Hello, Detroit.

The line in the superhero registration office was longer than usual. Clearly, one of the Paperwork Ninja's new workers was slacking off. He stopped by the cubicle of his newest employee, Bob Jenkins.

"Bob, is something troubling you?" the Paperwork Ninja asked. "Your processing time is way down this morning. And don't give me the 'It's the weekend' crap, either."

"I can't concentrate," Bob said. "I have this stupid earworm going and it's taking me off my stride."

The Paperwork Ninja frowned and took a sip of his ever-present coffee. "I see. Can you explain further?"

"It's that 'Call Me Maybe' song," Bob said. "It's catchy, upbeat and- dammit, there it goes again!" Bob cried as he involuntarily started chairdancing.

The Paperwork Ninja grumbled a bit. He hated having to do favors for Chris Jenkins, but Jenkins represented the city workers' union. One of the perks of that was being able to place his family members into any open city job at the highest starting pay level. Bob clearly had the same genetic penchant for stupidity as his uncle. The Paperwork Ninja set his coffee mug down on Bob's desk and leaned over the spasming young man.

"Bob, do I have to get Hephaestus 1 in here in his tiny, tiny Speedos to get rid of that earworm?"

"Oh God no, not that!" Bob yelped as he suddenly stopped chairdancing. "That's a little extreme, don't you think?"

"Not when you're a liability to this office's productivity, it isn't."

"But how's that going to help me get back into the swing of things?"

"Bob?" the Paperwork Ninja said, "Wiggle wiggle wiggle wiggle wiggle yeah."

Bob Jenkins' eyes widened in fear, then he immediately turned to his computer and started working feverishly.

The Paperwork Ninja adjusted his glasses. "That's more like it. The next time you get an earworm, just sing 'The Safety Dance' to yourself like the rest of us do."

Fear would keep the newbies in line until the Paperwork Ninja had to go get another cup of coffee. The threat of Hephaestus 1 in a Speedo would work very nicely for that.

_________________
DocSaluki - @jchinds

Yes, I'm the madman behind the 575 pounds of awesome that is Hephaestus 1. (He's not gone, as long as you keep him in your heart!) I'm not responsible for your nightmares or broken minds, though.

So long, Providence, Hello, Detroit.

#notenoughdots #ohgodnotenoughdots

_________________


You don't learn initiative, you win it.

COH Global: @downrange
Twitter: Labyrinthman
YIM: gato242

[JC? We need to get Dark_Respite on the phone ASAP. I need Heph to make me a video...]

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