DC Snippet: SUNSHINE

“Either you succeed in making a clone, only to have them realize you’re all full of shit,” I started dryly, as dry as my body wasn’t as, with a toss of my head, my blonde locks flew to the top of my head and landed with a wet splat, ending the constant drip that had been messing with my vision when it did. “Or you don’t succeed, and they go on a rampage because they’re completely unstable.”

"Considering where we're standing and how I have portal and truck induced PTSD... You just got both. Congrats."

I gave the pale, old scientist in my grip a little shake. Just a good, old-fashioned back-and-forth on their collar that had their head whipping lightly forward to back, replacing their look of fear with disorientated nausea… It was probably because of that chemical smell my tank was letting off. The smell of piss the scientist was adding to it wasn’t exactly what I would call appetizing.

The shaking was just adding to what was already there. That was all. All the shrieking from the other scientists probably wasn’t making that any better.

“Divine, Bizarro, Galatea… Sunshine. That’s just the Power Girl gene line and we’ve never worked out for you. I’m not even going to bother talking about the Superman clones… How many Kryptonians are there now, really? Natural or otherwise?” I hummed as my feet left the ground and I started making my way towards the nearest exit. “And how many times has cloning one of them worked out for you guys at Cadmus?”

For one of the smartest people on Earth… Luthor could be surprisingly dumb about things. Seriously. After the first time you did this and had it fail, doing it again and hoping that things would be different this time made no fucking sense.

“Just in case you didn’t know, that was a rhetorical question.” With a heavy backhand, the nearly three feet of steel in my way exploded off its hinges...and the sirens started to blare. “The answer to that question is ‘fucking never’. It has literally never worked out for you. Like the Suicide Squad. With Jared Leto. Remember that?” I frowned. “Is that even a thing yet? Will it be?” Then, I shrugged. “Meh. Don’t care. You guys are still dumb...and, no. Using me to use up your funding before the next fiscal quarter comes up isn’t a good excuse.”

Giving me fully functional male genitalia, as well as the normal Power Girl set of goodies, was just way too fucking much. Not that I minded or anything. Being able to stand up while I took a piss had me feeling right at home...well, no. That was a lie.

I couldn’t even see my junk past the two torpedoes that were strapped to my chest. I just knew they were they were there because I could feel the swinging going on... Did they combine two opposite sex embryos or something? How the hell did that even work? 

Fucking DC.

“Where are you taking me!? What are you going to do to me!?” The scientist asked in a completely reasonable tone of voice, considering how the hallway we had just left, faster than the human eye could follow, had been filled with lasers and screaming Spec Ops soldiers. “DON’T HURT ME!”

“Awww, don’t be like that. I would never hurt you, Mister Squishy Human Male. You’re my captive audience, and hurting your audience is bad for sales. Terrible business for a comic… Unless we’re talking about the 90’s or something when Anti-heroes were the ‘in’ thing.”

“What the hell are you talking about!?” He shrieked. “This isn’t a comic!”

My brow furrowed at that, forcing him to shut up for a little while in the face of my assumed displeasure. “Eh… Don’t worry about it.” When the next ultra-thick door came up, I shoved his face into the eye reader, then slipped on by the newly open door. After that, I then forcefully closed said doors...and, if the way the gears had screeched before something behind the wall cracked was any clue, it wasn’t going to be opening again anytime soon...which meant that I’d slowed down my pursuers instead of turning them into a horde of very expensive cripples. Using my brain, yeah! “It’s probably a little too deep for you to understand.”

Sure I could have just opened it with my hands...but they wouldn’t have learned anything, and that’s no good. Not everything in life needed to get punched out of the way, you know?

“Now, where’s the nearest exit? Or ‘you are here’ map? I’m not picky.”

“O-over there!”

“... Really?” I turned around and, sure enough, it was one of those workplace maps. “Oh, wow. You weren’t kidding.” Good, old-fashioned paper instead of holograms or some kind of super memory material for once too. Sweet. “So...we’re on B2?”

“Yes!”

“So… If I just went straight up through the ceiling, right now…” I pointed up and watched as his horrified gaze took on an extra level of said horror. “There aren’t any traps or anything, are there? No infinite pocket dimensions or something? No Phantom Zone projectors in the walls? Nothing to stop me from escaping through the roof?”

He didn’t say anything. He just continued to shake...and pissed himself some more.

“I’ll take that as a no~!” I sing-songed before switching up to a purposeful valley girl accent, “Also, like, wow. You guys are super lucky that I didn’t feel like pulling a Cerberus on you, because, like, oh my gawd, you’d all be so fucking dead!”

==========

Far, far above Earth’s atmosphere, the Watchtower’s alarms began to blare as a thermal bloom just about exploded into being on US soil...in a very clear message that required an immediate response.

Unethical Kryptonian cloning project here. You should investigate. ‘You’ means you, Batman.