The Justice Nerds, Robert, Cody, Dayna [best historical biographies .txt] 📗

Chapter 1
"Prologue"
(The Somewhat Normal Chapter)

The day was Tuesday, March 2nd, 2011 and a half, I think. The time is 35 minutes past 11:30. The place is in some cave in the side of a tall mountain that has no name. I call it “The Mountain Next to the Other One”… yeah. The cave I call “The Cave of Nerdlyness.”
In the sleeping quarters of the enchanted awesome looking cave Xavian Green, or better known as The Royal Flush, was sleeping and dreaming of a dream that was actually about his past or something. So, yeah, let’s fade to the dream.

R.F. (ha, ha) was eating at his favorite Mexican food place called “Talking Tacos”. He was eating the same as he always eats: an extra-large and extra bean, bean burrito. But this was the new one that just opened and was built by the Nuclear Waste plant. (Don, don, don) R.F. didn’t think anything of it and was the only one eating there. His burrito was a little green, but that was normal. But the glow wasn’t. He ate it anyway.
Suddenly he felt something stirring within him. Deep, DEEP within him. His eyes darted to the bathroom door, measuring the distance. Would he be able to make it?! He jumped to his feet and kicked his chair back for dramatic effect before leaping across the table, leaving a cloud of burrito wrappers in his wake.
Meanwhile, as he bolted for the door, a sudden surge of pain struck within the lower bowels of his body. The only thing that raced through his mind was: I GOT TO GO NOW! On the way there he was ambushed by a redneck and a change-loving hobo on an H-E-B cart came flying by.
“CHANGE?” the hobo exclaimed while sniffing R.F.’s hair. At that point the cart tripped R.F. and the ‘turtle’ snuck out a little.
“Oooh! A turtle !” the redneck said excitedly. “I’ve always wanted to pet a turtle!” He looked around anxiously, searching for the non-existent shell-covered reptile.
*Not that kind of turtle, you idiot!*
The redneck frowned up at the sky. “Fine, then! Ruin my dreams!” he shouted, shaking a fist. He hopped into the hobo’s cart and the two careened around the corner of the nearest building, disappearing into a mysterious alleyway that hadn’t existed a moment before.
Royal Flush carefully got to his feet in slow motion, fearing that any sudden movement would set off his internal bomb.
Step-by-step, he slowly walked to his target, holding back tears, fighting from what could be his last hour of decency. At last he was face-to-face with the door. “Victory!” he screeched as he reached for the handle. However, fate decided otherwise: the ‘turtle’ decided to make a second appearance. The force of the unexpected guest was too strong. R.F., on the other hand, held to stall the blasted beast for a little while longer!
Then he realized something. “Why am I outside?!” He must have gone out the wrong door…. At this point he was so desperate that he didn’t care whether or not he was able to get rid of his burritos in the comfort of a bathroom or behind some poor defenseless bush.
Talking Tacos happened to be conveniently right next to an apartment complex, and an open window on the bottom floor caught his eye. Without a second thought he hobbled across the street and dove into some random person’s house, not pausing to consider whether or not it was in fact a bathroom window.
It was.
Five long, glorious minutes later Royal Flush was about to flush the toilet when… he realized something was wrong. Terribly wrong. There was a cold, wet sensation between his toes. He looked down at his feet to find that he was standing in 12 inches of water!! His radioactive poop was rapidly eating away at the porcelain of the toilet. He realized what was going to happen a split second before it happened. He threw his arms in front of his face right as a geyser of water erupted from the half-eaten toilet.
Squeak! Squelch! Squiiiish! The innocent, unsuspecting family looked up from their T.V. to find a disheveled boy standing in the entryway, totally drenched and dripping all over the carpet.
Royal Flush stood there awkwardly for a moment. Finally he said, “Uh… you might want to consider investing in a new toilet….”
He turned and made his noisy way to the front door, radiating embarrassment. As the family watched him leave, their heads tilted to the side in comic confusion. As he slowly walked away from the door, he heard something that sounded like an elephant. He turned around, a bit confused, and sure enough an elephant came crashing through the radioactive home. He looked and leaned to see where it had come from. It seemed that it came from the bathroom, where he, himself, had just left. The family was just in shock by what had just happened. Royal Flush turned around again to be ambushed by a frying pan and a mysterious man.

“AHHH!” R.F. screams. He wakes in confusion. “It was the dream again,” he whispered to himself. Then without the door moving, Kyle, A.K.A. The Linebacker, crashes through the side wall.
What’s wronngaa?!” Kyle screams as he destroys everything.
“Well…” R.F. says, confused by what had happened, “I had this crazy dream, but… it was more like a flashback.”
“You know what makes me feel better?”
“What?”
“This song I learned—“
“How’d you learn the song?”
“Well, it was a long, long, long, long, long, long, long… . What was I talking about—Oh yeah! Long, long time ago. My momma taught me this song long before I was even hatched. Here it goes….” Right as he sat down a stump erupted out of the carpet. He pulled an acoustic guitar out of his pocket and cleared his throat. “This ‘here is how I sing this tune:”

“I once met a ‘feller, called the old wise guy,
Who had tempted me with a yummy pie.
I didn’t know that it contained the T-virus,
So I gave the pie to Miley Cyrus.
Holy Smokes! You shoulda’ seen what she did.
That there gal was red as a pig!
In the wink of an eye,
She had eaten that pie,
And with a snarl and a hiss,
She leaped as if to kiss.
She was as heavy as a boulder,
As her teeth sank into my shoulder.
Then Miley Cyrus vanished in smoke,
And a fire ran through my veins that made me choke.”

“Yodelayooo!!! Yodela—“
“What happened next?” R.F. asked, with a puzzled look on his face.
“Well…. Yodelayooooo!!!!” he screeched.
“Wait, wait, wait! You never told me what was next,” R.F. protested. The Linebacker’s acoustic morphed into an electric guitar and he tied a bandanna around his head. A small stone popped out of the ground, followed by several more until they formed a circle, from the middle of which erupted a roaring fire. Royal Flush scooted backwards on his bed, startled. He said,
“Whoa! What in Sam Hill is going on?”
Linebacker started playing, and was so into the song that he did not hear a single word coming out of R.F.’s mouth. The only thing that he heard was the electric guitar.
Eventually, The Linebacker stopped, looked at R.F., and roared at the top of his lungs, with every ounce of strength and being, “CALM DOWN!”
Now, with all that yelling, those words travelled quite a ways, awakening the one… the one that they (or, ‘we’, I guess) call The P.I.L.F..
“Can’t a superhero get any sleep anymore?!” Pilf thundered. He rolled out of bed to yell out the window, but he didn’t get very far. He slipped on a random banana peel and crashed to the floor, conking his head on a barbell. Instantly he was knocked unconscious, and a giant dream cloud bloomed into existence over his head.

On the beginning month of 2011 Pilf was a cop and on duty. Then over the C.V. Radio , “Unit 1215 to dispatch, calling for backup, ambulance, and fire team. There is a massive wreck on the Main Street bridge.”
“Dispatch, calling any units around the Main Street area.” Thankfully Pilf was right next to the bridge.
“Unit 18 to dispatch I’m on my way,” Pilf said. He peeled out his tires and did a U-turn like in the movies and went only 1 yard before hitting the wreck. He opened his door and stepped out. “That was quick.” He ran to the nearest crashed car and pulled out the injured driver. Then he dropped the guy and ran to the next car and did a front flip over the car, and when he stuck the landing three ninjas came out of nowhere. Pilf fought them with mad sills, karate chopping his way to victory. When he finished them all off he screamed at the top of his lungs, “Hiiyahhh!” Then he noticed a little girl trying to cross the street over on the other side of the bridge. There was a truck heading for her moving very fast. Pilf sprang into action and jumped over the median sprinting at full speed and he pushed the girl to the sidewalk. The truck hit Pilf’s arms, only paralyzing his arms. He passed out and lay there unconscious.
There was chaos all around, the little girl was crying for her pet turtle, and sirens blared in a cacophony of noise. But nobody noticed Pilf.
Except one.
Out of a clump of bushes on the side of the road jumped a funny little man with really tall hair. He glanced around carefully before doing a series of rolls, flips, and dives until he reached Pilf’s side. He gathered up Pilf’s arms, secured them to his back with a piece of rope, and then tied Pilf’s feet together with a second piece of rope. The man glanced around cautiously once more, ducking to avoid a random tire flying through the air from an exploding car, and then began to army crawl back to the bushes, dragging Pilf by the feet. When he had reached the bushes, the man lifted a large tuft of grass (which actually turned out to be the secret entrance to his Underground Super-Secret Laboratory of Unexplainable Weirdness). He dumped Pilf through the opening before jumping through it himself, closing the hatch behind him. Shortly after the hatch closed, the bridge gave out, killing an innocent change-loving hobo. Or so we thought….
Inside the Underground Super-Secret Laboratory of Unexplainable Weirdness, the funny little man had Pilf strapped to a funny-looking device.
“Well, My Precious—yesss…. I shall call you My Precious! Perfect fit for you, yes.”
With this ‘funny’ little man babbling on with his thoughts, Pilf awoke to find that he was in a very strange place with strange equipment. Finally, he noticed the ‘funny’ little man babbling and said, “Hey? What ‘cho babbling about?!”
“Ahh… so he is awake, no?” said the little old man. “Well My Precious–“
“Did you just call me Precious?!” Pilf exclaimed, speaking with attitude. “Ohh, no you DI-DN’T! ”
“Oh, be quiet!” the little man commanded, exasperated. He pulled a giant, 2-foot needle (half his own height) out of his pocket and jabbed the deadly point into one of Pilf’s newly attached arms, cutting off his shout of indignance. Pilf slumped back against the contraption binding him, mumbling incoherently.
“My Preciousss…” the little man cooed, stroking Pilf’s head fondly. But Pilf’s rage at being treated like an oversized house cat swelled, overcoming the haze of