"This is Tim Hartin with KPNX 12 news, reporting live from the opening day of the Arizona State Fair. Carnival goers have turned out in record numbers today, braving the unseasonably cool weather to ride the rides, eat the treats, and view the animals on display here. If you'll look behind me, you'll see the crowds surrounding the tent for the Fanta Indian Rodeo, getting ready to kick off in just a few hours. People are... excuse me... there seems to be a problem at the rodeo tent. Let's see if we can get a little closer...

"Again, this is Tim Hartin with KPNX 12 news, and this is coming to you live from the State Fair. There appears to be some sort of... commotion in the rodeo tent. Onlookers are being terrorized by... what? No, that can't be right. Derrick, are you getting this?"

From off-camera: "Getting it, Tim."

"Well, we're just reporting the news as we see it folks, remember that. These innocent fairgoers are being attacked by--"

From off-camera again: "Look, Dr. Bousquet, a camera!"

"Oh, beauty, Dr. Plexico!"

The reporter is suddenly joined in the frame by two villainous-looking men in white labcoats. One wrenches the microphone out of the reporter's grip while the other sticks a handgun in the reporter's terrified face.

"Don't forget to scowl menacingly, Dr. Plexico," the one with the gun reminds his partner.

"Oh, how silly of me." Plexico scowls into the camera. "Just hold that thing steady, camera goon. We have an announcement to make. I am the nefarious Dr. Plexico. Behind me with the hand cannon is the disreputable Dr. Bousquet."

Dr. Bousquet waves with his free hand.

"We have seized control of this State Fair, and we plan to--"

"Wait!" the reporter pipes up suddenly, jabbing a finger at Plexico's back. "I know you guys! You're the mad scientists! The one who made all those monsters to attack the city! And... and... You killed Lonni! You bastards! You killed--"

BLAM!

"If there's one thing I can't stand," Dr. Bousquet confided as Tim Hartin slumped to the ground with a hole in his face, "it's an undue amount of angst."

"That's right, Dr. Bousquet," Plexico agreed. "I mean, where did that guy think we were? An issue of the X-Men? No, citizens of Phoenix... this is

Issue # 46 - March Year Five

"Fair Play"
by Russ Anderson

Bousquet leaned in close to the camera beside his cohort, grinning wickedly. "And you know what comes next..."

Bonita Juarez was serving lunch at a South Phoenix soup kitchen when one of the other volunteers cried out and pointed to the television mounted in one corner of the dining area. Bonita recognized the two leering faces filling the screen immediately.

"Tengo que salir,"* she said simply to the woman standing beside her, then she turned and sprinted for the back door, ripping off her apron as she did so.

(* Tengo que salir = "I have to go" -- Russ)

Once she was in the alley and safely out of sight of passersby, her modest pants and shirt outfit was consumed in a flash of alien fire, to be replaced by the form-fitting red and yellow uniform of Firebird.

She took immediately to the air, tapping the communicator woven into the fabric of her costume near the throat. Hopefully someone was home to take the distress call. She had no idea what the evil doctors had up their white sleeves this time, but whatever it was, she didn't want to face it alone.

Chief Samuel Everett stormed across the floor of the precinct house, shoving open the door of the crime lab's front office when he reached it. A stiff breeze whisked past him as he shouted the name of his subordinate: "Allen!"

But Barry Allen was nowhere to be seen. On the other side of the room, at Allen's desk, several sheets of paper were fluttering softly to the ground as if they'd just been blown off the desktop. Chief Everett turned and looked back out into the precinct house, wondering suddenly about that breeze he'd felt when he'd opened the door.

Shrugging, he pulled the door closed and retraced his steps. Apparently Allen already knew about the trouble at the Fair, and something told Everett that the absent-minded police scientist would arrive on the scene long before his own beat cops did.

"But... uh, Mr. Hercules," Guinea Pig prodded as he followed his teammate out of the two-story Phoenix house that served as the Champions' headquarters, "neither of us has a license. Do you really think it's a good idea to--"

"There is little choice, noble Guinea Pig," the Son of Zeus proclaimed. "The Champscraft hath been lost since our battle 'gainst the Masters of Evil, lo those many weeks ago,* and if the Son of Zeus is to reach the scene of battle readily..." He trailed off, letting Guinea Pig finish the thought for himself as he opened the door and squeezed himself behind the wheel of the Black Widow's red Fiat. Guinea Pig stood uncertainly at the tiny car's passenger side while the enormous three-headed dog Cerberus leapt into the back seat.

(* In issue #37 -- Russ)

"Come, young one!" Hercules grunted, striving to push the seat back and looking surprised when he realized it was already back as far as it went. "Glorious battle awaits!"

Guinea Pig looked back toward the door, where 10 year-old Cassie Lang was standing with the five Cerberus puppies, all of them unusually subdued following their recent surgeries.* She waved encouragingly.

(* The Cerberus puppies got "fixed" in Giant-Size Champions #1 -- Russ)

"Okay, Mr. Hercules," Guinea Pig sighed, sliding into the passenger seat and pulling his fur-covered mask up over his head. "Let's go."

Hercules hit the gas... and immediately veered out of the driveway, taking out the house's mailbox. Guinea Pig would think later that that pretty much set the tone for the rest of the trip.

Cassie Lang shut the door behind her and sighed, putting her hands on her hips.

It was times like this, when the Champions were rushing off into battle to right some wrong, that it really hit her how absent her father was. From what Cassie had been told, Scott Lang -- Ant-Man -- had been given some weird time-travel powers, renamed Aeon, and somehow that meant that he couldn't be with them anymore.* The other Champions tried to be reassuring, to keep her hopes up -- the Black Widow had gone so far as to pretend she was Cassie's stepmother to keep her from being taken away by her aunt -- but every day he was gone made it harder to believe he was actually coming back.

(* For more details on Scott's transformation into Aeon, see issue #39 -- Russ)

"What do you guys wanna do?" she asked the completely attentive Cerberus puppies. "Do you want to raid the refrigerator?"

The puppies let out a chorus of yips.

"Okay, let's--"

She paused as a crashing sound drifted up from the basement. The puppies turned with her and looked at the door leading downstairs.

The basement was where Barry's lab -- formerly her daddy's lab -- was set up, and where the team kept its high-tech gear and communications equipment. It was also where they were keeping a comatose woman named Plasma, who had claimed to be a herald of Galactus... even tho nobody had ever heard of her. Cassie got the idea she hadn't heard about everything that had happened when Plasma met the Flash and Firebird in the desert outside Phoenix... but she suspected it had had something to do with her dad.

She pushed the door open and flicked the light on. "Hello," she called downward.

There was nothing... and Cassie was just about to take a step down when the Cerberus puppies began growling. "What is it, boys? What--?"

A battering ram of aqua-blue power cosmic flashed up the stairwell, slamming into Cassie and the puppies and lifting them up and out of the stairwell. They went sailing across the entrance foyer, through another doorway, and landed roughly on the tile floor of the kitchen.

"Who are you?" a voice Cassie didn't recognize demanded from above her. "Where am I?" She opened her eyes, tried to focus, and saw with a sinking feeling that Plasma was standing over her and the stunned puppies. The herald's body was vaguely feminine, and made up entirely of a liquidy substance that seemed to flow and move beneath the surface of her skin.

"Answer me now or I'll--" Plasma paused, her eyes widening in recognition. "You... you're his child. The spawn of Aeon." The confusion left her face entirely, to be replaced by righteous fury. More of that cosmic energy ebbed and flowed from her clenched fists.

"For crimes perpetrated by your father, you must die!"

Back at the Fair.

"I can't believe that no heroes have shown up yet, Dr. Bousquet."

"Nor can I, Dr. Plexico. They're like that though, aren't they? Never a cape around when you need one, and you're up to your ears in them when you'd really rather they leave you alone."

"Maybe we just don't rate anymore," Dr. Plexico said sadly, hamming it up for the still-running camera. "Maybe mad scientists aren't considered that great a threat anymore in this world of immortal mutants and tin-plated European dictators?"

Pause for effect.

"Nah!" the two of them decided together, ducking as a screaming civilian went sailing over their heads from somewhere off-camera.

"Still, I almost wish the Insidious Dr. Gow was here, don't you? Think of the havoc we could wreak were we three-strong."

"If you ask me, Dr. Gow never did quite get the hang of this evil scientist business. I mean, we spent half our time teaching him how to laugh diabolically."

"Nonono, the boy had potential, I tell you. He coulda been a contender." Plexico leaned close to the lens of the camera. "Dr. Gow, if you're watching this, I believe in you."

Dr. Bousquet made a derogatory noise, then yelped in pain as something impossibly fast snatched the pistol from his hand and shoved him backward into his partner. The two of them went over in a heap.

"Ow! Get off my hand, Dr. Bousquet!"

"So sorry, Dr. Plexico. Here, let me help you up."

The two mad scientists regained their feet and, after dusting off, found themselves facing the scarlet-clad form of the Flash. Dr. Bousquet's gun hung from the hero's forefinger by its trigger guard.

"That's enough you two," the Flash said. "You've had your fun, now it's time to call off your cyborgs and go back to jail."

"Did you hear that, Dr. Bousquet? He thinks we're still employing cybernetic animals."

"Apparently the name 'Flash' doesn't refer to how quick he is on the uptake, Dr. Plexico."

Flash started to open his mouth, to ask them what they were talking about, then decided he could see for himself more quickly than he could peel it out of them. He zipped off, making a side-trip to stash Bousquet's gun atop a corn dog kiosk, and circled the Fairgrounds.

He almost couldn't believe his eyes. Not only did the doctors get deadlier every time the Champions faced them, they got proportionately more ridiculous.

The agents of destruction the doctors had unleashed upon the fairgrounds were tossing people about, disrupting rides, scaring children, and making incredible nuisances out of themselves. Aside from the fact that they were inhumanly strong and fast, the only unusual thing about them was they were all dressed as--

"Clowns?" the Flash demanded, arriving back at the spot he'd left less than two seconds earlier. "What's next? Killer Tomatoes?"

The doctors looked at each other in surprise, inspiration lighting their faces.

"No," Flash said. "Don't even think it. You two are going back to--"

A jet of water hit him in the back with the force of a firehose, and the doctors had to step out of the way as he went tumbling past, crashing into a ring-toss booth. The torrent of water kept pummeling him for several seconds as the booth slowly crumbled, and finally stopped once the wreckage had completely buried him.

"Good show, Pagliacci!" Dr. Plexico trumpeted, saluting their savior -- a low-slung clown with wild tuffs of orange hair, a wide red grin, and a water bottle with a spout on the top. The clown snapped off a silent salute in return, then turned and disappeared back into the pandemonium of the park.

"And see if you can find my gun!" Dr. Bousquet called after it.

The gaudily-lit barrel of the Gravitron at the Arizona State Fair was designed and built to rotate 24 times per minute. Riders would find themselves pressed against the inner walls of the barrel at these speeds, and enjoy a few minutes of redirected gravity.

The Gravitron had been going at nearly 36 rpm's for close to ten minutes now. Many of the ride's occupants had passed out, and those that hadn't -- or weren't currently occupied in vomiting all over their neighbors -- were screaming in terror.

At the controls of the Gravitron, a tall, slender clown with sad face-paint cackled gleefully and reached for the controls, determined to find out how fast he had to make the machine go before his victims could no longer scream.

"En garde, le clown diable!"*

(* "On guard, devil clown!" -- bilingual Russ)

The clown looked up, its finger still hovering over the acceleration key, as the roof of the control booth caved in above him. A pair of orange boots descended through the splintering particleboard and landed squarely on the clown's forehead. There was a hollow thwok, and the clown stumbled back while the owner of those boots, Batroc the Leaper, sprang backwards and landed heavily on the booth's floor.

"Zut alors..." the Champion muttered, bending over to massage one of his ankles. "Your head... ::hic::... eet iz like kicking an oak tree..."

The clown lurched forward, its large, cartoony white gloves reaching for Batroc's throat.

"Eh? No witty repartee? No exzhange of ::urp:: death threatzh? What kind of villain are you?" The Frenchman leapt backward and, planting both hands on the console behind him, hooked his left foot around the clown's neck, then twisted to the right and down. This, added to the clown's forward lunge, thrust the villain crashing through the booth door, bouncing across the metal scaffolding, and flying over the edge. The clown plummeted fifteen feet to the concrete and lay facedown, very still.

Batroc stuck his head out the window, nodded at the unmoving form of his opponent, then quickly returned to the Gravitron's controls. Having no idea what he was doing, he twisted one of the knobs, and rolled his eyes in impatience when the Gravitron actually sped up, the screams from inside rising in pitch. He twisted the knob the other way, and the barrel began to slow in its spin.

"Aaaaah... ::hic::" Batroc sighed. "Even intoc-- intoczic-- intoczicizci-- drunk, Georgez Batroc iz ze pimp... eh, what iz zis?"

The entire booth shook as the clown landed heavily on the scaffolding outside. He wrenched what was left of the door off its hinges and moved deliberately into the booth, towards Batroc.

"Back for more, eh?" Batroc raised his fists. "I hav been drinking, you know... lotz... I am practically embalmed where I ztand, and ztill I will teach you not to undereztimate Batroc ze Lea--"

A jet of flame descended through the hole in the roof, engulfing the clown instantly. It raised its hands to the heavens and opened its mouth to scream, but no sound escaped. Eyes widening, Batroc cast about for something to smother the flames with, but there was nothing, and a moment later, Batroc saw that such rescue attempts were unnecessary.

The clown was a robot. The white skin on its face peeled back to reveal melting wires and blackening metal plates. Satisfied that he wouldn't be obliged to save the thing's life, Batroc got a running start, leapt up, and kicked it square in the center of the chest, where the flames were the weakest. The robot went bouncing out of the booth again, across the catwalk, and back down to the concrete.

"Batroc, are you okay?" Firebird asked, descending through the hole in the roof.

"Oui... but I muzt inzizt you do not interfere in ze battlez of Batroc, mon ami."

Firebird wrinkled her nose. Even from across the booth, and over the smell of burning latex, she could smell the booze on Batroc's breath. "I wasn't sure whether you saw it was a robot or not -- it was torn open in the back and I could see the machine parts. I didn't want you getting hurt because you thought you were fighting a living being."

"Fine. But in ze ::hic:: futair... butt out."

Firebird's eyes narrowed. "Go make sure the people in the ride are alright, Batroc. I'm going to see if I can find the doctors."

"Oui," Batroc agreed, hiccupping sulkily as Firebird ascended out of the booth. "Leave ze crowd control to ze Leapair. It iz all he eez good for, after all..."

Elsewhere.

The man with Alexi Shostakov's face emerged from the bathroom, toweling his blonde hair... and immediately dropped into a defensive squatting posture. The window of his shabby hotel room was opened just a hair. He was certain he'd left it secured -- as secure as this filthy rat's nest could be, anyway.

Still in a crouch, he crab-walked to the right, removing a Ruger P89 automatic from where he'd secreted it behind the dresser. He didn't have to check to make sure it was loaded.

Quickly and efficiently, he checked every cranny of the small hotel room. In the closet, under the bed. He even peeled up a floorboard he'd loosened for purposes of concealing some of his weaponry, and swept a flashlight into the narrow space beneath. Nothing.

Satisfied with his search and a little perplexed, the man stood and shoved the window closed, latching it for sure this time. He must have misremembered. Lord knew he was on edge. His last confrontation with the Black Widow had been a near-disaster, forcing him to play his hand long before he was ready. Now his plans for revenge would have to be stepped up, and he hated changing his plans.

He stowed the Ruger, then pushed through into the bathroom again.

The door had slammed him across the room almost before he realized what was happening. He regained his senses quickly enough to twist, letting his back take the impact as he crashed into and through the frosted shower door.

<"Idiot,">* the Black Widow said, snapping the door closed. Behind her, the bathroom window was chocked wide open. <"Did you really think I wasn't going to find you?"> One of her arms was trained on the man in the shower stall, the golden wrist launchers that contained her widow's bite twinkling threateningly in the harsh bathroom light.

(* Translated from Russian -- Russ)

<"That is what I have always loved about you, Natalia,"> the man replied, beginning to pull himself out of the wreckage of the door, <"your ability to surprise me.">

<"Shut up. You're not my husband. Alexi Shostakov is dead.">

<"Can you be sure of that, Natalia? Did you see a body?">

<"Don't call me that again. I know my husband, and you're not him.">

<"Perhaps you just don't want it to be me. Perhaps you feel guilty at your free ways, your many lovers. All while I was recuperating, getting my strength back, preparing to return to a woman I had hoped would at least let the body cool before she hopped into another man's bed!">

Natasha shot him.

The electrical discharge from her widow's bite leapt across the room and scorched a hole in the man's bare shoulder. Remarkably, even as the bite was burning him, he was leaping up and forward. The movement caught Natasha off-guard and she fell back under the tackle.

<"How many, Natalia?"> the man in the towel asked. He swung, and the Widow just managed to duck out of the way, his fist burying itself in the plaster and tile at her back. <"How many lovers have you taken since I gave my life for you and Captain America at Colonel Ling's Pacific base?">*

(* The Red Guardian took a bullet meant for Captain America way back in Marvel's Avengers #44 -- Russ)

Natasha rolled across the tile, snapping awkwardly up into a kneeling position against the adjacent wall -- there was no room to fight in here. She brought her widow's bite up, surprised that her opponent wasn't pressing the attack... but saw why a moment later as the bathroom door banged against the adjacent wall. He was already in the main motel room, making a run for it.

Natasha sprang up and dashed out of the bathroom, just in time to see her quarry shimmying thru the window onto the fire escape outside. He was still wearing only a towel, but a bundle of red cloth that had to be his Red Guardian costume was clutched tightly in his hand.

<"Follow me if you want your answers, wife,"> he called over his shoulder. And then he was gone.

Against her better judgment, the Black Widow went after him.

Back at the fair.

"I've got an idea," Dr. Plexico said, pulling apart a wad of pink cotton candy and stuffing it in his mouth. "Reptiles! We can force-grow an iguana to ridiculous proportions, put it up on its hind legs so gravity doesn't crush its spine, and give it laser beams in its tonsils."

"You just described Godzilla, my dear Dr. Plexico," Bousquet replied kindly. "The crappy American version, with Ferris Bueller in it."

"Oh..." Plexico hung his head, more than a little ashamed of his lack of originality. "Bousquet... do you sometimes feel like all the good ideas have been done? Are works of divine inspiration such as the Platypusinator* forever behind us?"

(* See issue #34 for the debut of the Platypusinator -- Russ)

"Let's hope not... I've already figured out how I'm going to break us out of jail next time the Champions put us there. Besides, I've been mulling over that killer tomatoes idea that not-so-swift guy in the red and yellow tights shared."

"Really? Oh, do tell..."

"This looks like the place, Mr. Hercules."

The Fiat bumped up onto the curb, stopping just short of a covered bus stop... not that another collision could have hurt the car that much. Hercules had managed to put nearly a dozen dents and scuffs on the vehicle in the trip across town. Guinea Pig had already resolved not to be around when the Black Widow found out about it.

"Come, young one!" Hercules demanded, wrenching the door open and unfolding himself into the street while Cerberus hopped out of the back. "Glorious battle awaits!"

Sighing, Guinea Pig tried to push the door open. It was stuck -- due to one of Hercules' driving mishaps -- and he wrestled with it futilely for a few moments before Hercules walked around to his side and simply lifted him out. Once the three of them were on solid ground, they charged across the street toward the walled-in fairgrounds.

Batroc dropped down from the control booth, and was mildly annoyed to find the clown he and Firebird had killed was no longer there. He glanced around, his eyes passing carelessly over the people stumbling out of the Gravitron, and caught sight of the clown stumbling down the fairway. The lurching machine had made it several hundred yards away from the intended spot of his demise, and Batroc saw that he was heading toward a nearby big top tent.

And he wasn't the only one. The clowns were converging on this tent from all directions, some abandoning their acts of terror to jog alongside their brethren. Batroc saw three disappear into the canvas folds before he started wondering if it might be a good idea to go check it out.

Hurrying as quickly as he could with his head still swimming from the booze, Batroc headed for the tent. None of the converging clowns tried to stop him as he followed them in. What he saw there stopped him in his tracks.

"Mon dieu..." he muttered. And then all hell broke loose.

"And then we'll put working jaws on them, right? Because nothing's quite so frightening as a man-sized, blood red fruit with a hideous mouth bouncing across the ground at you--"

A ring of fire dropped around the two scientists and the cameraman who was still filming them.

"Hold that thought, Dr. Bousquet. Looks like we have company."

"Call off the clowns," Firebird said, hovering above the two of them. "Do it now or I'll burn those labcoats right off of you."

"I thought she was the god-fearing one," Dr. Plexico breathed. "When did she start sounding like Dirty Harry?"

"You don't think she's serious, do you?"

"About what?"

"Burning the coats off of us. I -- well, this is awkward... I'm not wearing underwear today."

"Good heavens, old boy, what are you worried about? I never wear underwear."

"Excuse me," Firebird called. "Look up here, please. I'm your opponent, remember? Try to focus a little bit."

"Sorry," the Doctors apologized in unison.

"Call the clowns off."

"We can't do that, dear lady."

"Why?"

"Because it is" -- Bousquet checked his watch -- "precisely four o'clock."

Firebird looked at them blankly. "What difference does that make?"

"We pre-programmed the clowns to wreak havoc for ninety minutes, starting at two-thirty. After that time is up -- right now, to be exact -- they're going to--"

"Dr. Bousquet."

"Yes, Dr. Plexico, what is it?"

Plexico made a winding motion with his hand. "Try to spice it up a little, would you? You sound like an infomercial."

"Oh. Of course, you're right." Bousquet cleared his throat. "It's too late, Champion! Far too late for you and everyone in this city!"

Plexico nodded. "Much better."

"Even now, the clowns are converging on each other, performing a complex series of motions that will link them together into one giant engine of destruction!"

"Much like how the Constructicons all merged into Devastator in the old Transformers show," Plexico elaborated. "I loved those cartoons..."

There was a rumbling down one of the nearby midways, and Firebird wheeled in that direction. One of the big top tents was quaking and roiling like it was filled with popcorn.

"Tremble, Champion! Tremble before the might of--"

The tent split down the middle, and a fifty-foot tall robot clown emerged into the Phoenix air. Hanging precariously from the giant's elbow was Batroc.

"Mecha-Bozo!" Bousquet finished, to rousing applause from his partner in crime.

"HA. HA. HA," Mecha-Bozo bellowed. And then the destruction began in earnest.

Lots and lots of letters this time, from both issue #45 and the Giant-Size. Let's get right into them.

First one's from James Hickson, noble creator of Voice & Suds, and the mastermind behind MV2 at the Tapestry branch.

Okay I have just read every single issue of Champions. Man I really have learned to like these characters. I especially liked your issues, the good balance of humor and action (okay it's a little lopsided, but I ain't telling which way). dare say I like even more than your work on Green Lantern.

-James Hickson

Thanks, James. Hope you enjoyed the return of the notorious doctors this issue.

Next one's from Steve Crosby. If you're not reading Steve's Kree Corps or his Brotherhood stories in Super-Villain Team-Up, you're missing out on some of the best action fic MV1's currently putting out.

Once again Russ, you have outdone yourself! As I am complementing Will's plots with my own, so too are you doing for Barry.

Honestly, at this point there's very little of his influence left in this title, outside of Mondo Kane and the Red Guardian sub-plots.

Batroc's depression over his defeat by the Toad is terrific. Considering the career the Toad has had over the years, I'm surprised Batroc didn't slit his wrists right after he lost. It's just going to further fuel Batroc's desire to prove himself, which has always been an integral part of the character. I can just see him try and pick fights with Herc and the like, trying to prove that he can stand against these heavyweights.

You saw more on Batroc's depression this issue. Expect this to come to a head by #50.

Also, kudos to your attention to detail! When Barry was studying Plasma, I actually could tell that he wasn't from our universe. Imagine a hero on Marvel Earth not knowing who Galactus is! And yet, he's not a novice, wielding more experience that even the Black Widow. It's making my head hurt too.

Now, onto this huge plot with Ant-Man/Aeon. The dedication the Champions are making towards one of their own, is extraordinary, as is their determination to hold on his daughter Cassie. I don't mind telling you, Black Widow's revelation at the end of the issue made my jaw drop! Of course, it's not exactly true, but that's what the call to Fury was about, eh? However, if the original, real Red Guardian is alive, then wouldn't Black Widow still be married to him? If its the guy that died saving Captain America's life, of course, which I don't think it is. Still, I know the eventual revelation will knock my socks off.

We should be finding out just whether the new Guardian is Alexi or not very, very soon.

Again Russ, a terrific story. It wasn't as light as the previous issues, though I did enjoy the arrival of Turner D. Century. And the escape of Dr. Bousquet and Dr. Plexico had me on the floor laughing, as did Dr. Gow's reaction. Nice English accent, by the way.

Finally, in response to that Jason Trenner guy that wants Archangel and Iceman on the Champions; THEY'RE MINE!

LOL! And you're welcome to 'em! I really like Bobby and Warren, but I've got enough work juggling the characters I've got.

And besides, I'm sure I couldn't do them the justice you're doing them in X-Men (another fine Crosby title, for the uninitiated).

In response to the Brotherhood fighting the Champions, however, I say go for it. Though it'd have to be the last issue of the Champions, since the Brotherhood would kill em all within five minutes.:)

Says you! Guinea Pig could take those losers! :-) (well, as long as the rest of the Champions teamed up on the Toad, I guess...)

The road to 50 is getting shorter all the time, Russ. I for one am enjoying the ride.

steve

Thanks, Steve.

Next missive is from Mark Beaulieu, virtual founder of this title. Meaning no offense to Barry's work or my own, if you haven't read Mark's Champions issues yet, you simply haven't read The Champions.

I just finished reading the newest issue of Champions. I really enjoy Russ' take on the Champions.

I really liked the solution to keeping Cassie. I was certain we were going to see a Scott Lang LMD. What Russ did really surprised me. Good stuff.

Oddly enough, LMD's never occurred to me... I'm so disappointed with myself. Where's my sense of Marvel deus ex machinas?

I won't ruin the Diamondback revelation, but I thought it made sense. I especially liked her being worried that Hercules liked her. Actually I have to ruin the revelation so don't read the rest of this paragraph if you haven't read the issue. The only thing I don't like with the Diamondback thing is that it's too much like Sixth Sense. But the reasoning behind this makes sense.

I actually tried to play up the Sixth Sense similarity in that scene, hence Herc's "Dost thou see dead people?" Anyway, that all was resolved in Giant-Size Champions #1, so hopefully you read about it there (or maybe you're still reading it... that sucker was long)

The Batroc scene fit his character perfectly. I'm still not sure what's up with Mondo Kane, but I'm enjoying the ride.

One other thing, while this issue wasn't as funny as past issues, I don't see that as a bad thing. I like the fact that you don't know what you'll get in an issue of Champions. Sure, there'll be some humor, but the main focus may be serious. Then the next issue you're laughing a lot. It keeps the readers on their toes.

Glad you thought so, Mark. I was a tad nervous about last issue's lack of yucks, but nobody's had anything bad to say about it so far.

Not much else to say about this issue. I liked it quite a bit. No problems that I can think of besides the Diamondback thing (which I mostly like).

Oh, one more thing. Russ has taken some heat for the Barry - Bonita and the Lang - Widow relationships. I was leading towards a Barry-Bonita relationship when I dropped the title and it looks like Barry saw that, or at the very least used what little I put in to make that relationship. As for Scott Lang and Natasha, I started that one too, but it was never mentioned that Natasha had any feelings for Scott. So don't hold that against Russ. :) I mainly wanted Scott to like Natasha because he seems like one of those guys who gets a crush on women pretty easily (I could be wrong, but that's my impression) and because it would cause tension with Hercules who used to date Natasha. So if you don't like Scott falling for Natasha, yell at me. :)

Baloo

No, don't yell at Mark. Yell at Barry. He's not around anymore anyway. :-)

I had some trouble getting my head around Barry-Bonita at first myself, but I think I'm finally getting a feel for it. We'll see what develops with Scott-Natasha by the end of Aeon Flux.

Thanks for the letter Baloo. As much as I enjoy all the feedback I get, I absolutely love hearing from the guy who inspired me to try my hand at this title in the first place.

Next we've got Knights editor, co-writer of Ka-Zar, all-around swell guy, and Champions supporting character, Sam Everett.

Howdy!

Here's a little review of Russ Anderson's last three issues on MV1's CHAMPIONS!

The Good:

-The romance between Barry and Bonita iis coming along nicely! Too often writers want to jump into things, and so things like relationships seem implausible in some cases. Russ is taking this little romance nice and slow, and I'm glad to see it.

Barry and Bonita's romance has been a bit victimized by the build-up to issue #50. Hopefully I'll have some space to explore this a little more between now and then.

-The humor is still there! I remember Russ said his probably wouldn't be a very funny series...he was wrong! The fight between Batroc and Toad (don't all the good fights in CHAMPS involve Batroc and take place in clubs or bars?!). The funny lines of dialogue just come very smoothly, and that's a testament to Russ's superior skill in prose. There are at least three laugh-out-loud moments in every issue! I counted! : )

-Steve Crosby...'nuff said!

A little Steve adds spice to every story. Just check out the penultimate chapter of "Seven Deadly Sins" in Web of Spider-Man, and the recent Brotherhood issue of Super-Villain Team-Up, if you don't believe me.

-The fact that Cassie is all but unsupervised has finally been brought up. I like how it gives the team a further reason to find Scott Lang/Aeon. And I don't think anyone is going to expect the Black Widow's solution to the problem with Cassie's aunt.

-The ending to #45...anyone who has eveer even had the most passing interest in Baloo's classic run has GOT to check this out!

The Bad:

-Can't really think of a thing! This iss just good, light-hearted stuff. Maybe the drudging up of the Black Widow's past is muddying that tone a bit, but I'll give that plotline some time to develop before I completely bash it in public! :)

I said earlier in this lettercol that Barry's influence was all but gone in this title, but let it be known that the Red Guardian plot was entirely his idea. I wouldn't have thought of it in a million years, but - despite Sam's apparent feelings about it -- I'm really glad that Barry did. I've got some evil things planned for this guy.

Mondo Kane also sprang nearly whole from the brow of the almighty Barry, and we'll be seeing more of him before my run is finished as well.

You can't really go wrong with any of the CHAMPIONS issues at MV1, and especially Russ's. He's got an excellent handle on the tone of the series established by Baloo almost thirty issues ago! But did I read the lettercol correctly...Russ isn't planning on re-upping after #50? Nawwwwww!!! Say it ain't so, Russ!

While we wait for Russ to get his head out of his anus, check out MV1's CHAMPIONS at: http://www.dreamwater.net/gansler/avengers/champions.htm

You won't be sorry!

Sam Everett

Thanks Sam. Unfortunately, my head is firmly lodged in my anus. No new issues after #50.

I'll tell you what tho. I'll re-up if you commit to another 12 issues of Triathlon... :-)

Next is from Travis George, writer of a very interesting Quasar arc in Cosmic Powers Unlimited that has mysteriously disappeared into the ether.

Dear Russ,

Absolutely love the work you've done on Firebird's character development. Especially the way she handled (or tried to handle) the situation with Cassie's Aunt. Anyone can battle a supervillian, it takes guts to take on a custody case. I'm sure Bonita preferred to be facing off against Count Nefaria one-on-one than being in that situation -- by the way, I typed that before getting to the part about her fighting the MOE ;) . I have to admit, seeing heroes deal with real life problems was more interesting to me than the other subplots, enough so I jumped past the rest of the subplots in the issue to get to every bit of Bonita vs. Aunt Caroline then went back to read the rest after there wasn't any more. And boy did I love seeing how Natasha resolved the mess!

Yeah, Natasha had an interesting method of dealing with the Cassie issue, didn't she? But I can't believe I didn't just pull out a Scott Lang LMD...

Oh yeah... the rest of the issue. ;) So it was Turner D. Century Rachel saw in the club? Interesting. I've only read about Turner twice before, once in the issue in which Scourge killed him, and once in a fan fic, so I had no clue it could be him. As for Rachel, for someone who claims to be leaving the team, she sure has been around a while since then. I'm still hoping she changes her mind. Or at least, if she does leave, she makes a cameo in Baloo's Road Trip mini. ;)

Diamondback and Nightman should be back next issue. That means, after she said she was leaving, she spent more issues with the team than away from them. Do I know how to plot in advance or what? :-) (the correct answer is no)

I'm really liking the references to how Barry doesn't know anything about the Marvel Universe. I usually can look forward to at least one nice touch like that every issue. Great work.

It's also nice to see the return of Mondo Kane. I've wanted to see him come back and menace the Champions since his last appearance, but with all the other stuff that's been going on I almost forgot he intrigued me the most out of the half dozen or so villians that are currently taking up the subplots in the title. His cryptic references to death threats and the ambiguousness of his power limits make him almost as formidable as Aeon seems to be. I also can't help wondering if they're connected in some way. Guess I'll have to keep reading to find out!

Mondo will be back in time for my last story arc. Keep an eye out.

Once again, a great issue, Russ. You've managed to further the developments and increase the reader's interest with each new installment. Can't wait to see what you come up with next!

Next is from Jason Trenner, Question-Man extraordinaire.

Interesting shocker at the end. I never saw anything like that coming.

Lights are on , box is locked and it's Question time!

1) Is there any chance of Starlight making an appearance?

Who dat?

2) Is there any chance of a sidestory that has the Flash and Nightman work together?

Not in the works, tho that might be interesting, considering they're the two reality-displaced members of the team and all.

3) Shouldn't Batroc have known that Mondo Kane was the guy that kicked his friend's (and their team's) butts?

Whoops. Yeah, he should have. I plead "drunk off his ass" in this case. Maybe he'll realize it before Mondo reappears...

4) Is there any chance of the Champions fighting Skeletor (and yes he is in the MV1, having shown up in MV1's Marvel Premiere Fantastic Force story)?

Nope.

5) Will Aeon Flux go around the events the Defenders/Black Knight story (Aeon's boss is a member of the Defenders in that)?

Nope. I'm going to give Gary D. as much room as possible to tell his stories with Halcyon. He shouldn't even have to know I'm here...

6) Is there any chance of the Champions visiting the Space Phantom planet in Aeon Flux?

No plans at this point.

7)Is there any chance of Dr. Plexico and the other dr.(who's name I can't remember at the moment) making a biomechanical android (like Cell from DBZ) made up of the DNA of several mutants and metahumans?

No. That has possibilities, actually, but you've seen by now what the doctors were really up to.

Thanks for the letter, Jason.

Whew... getting a little winded. This is what I get for skipping a lettercol in the giant-size.

Speaking of which, we've got another one from James Hickson about that very same issue.

Hey Russ,

Just read the giant Size Champions #1, and it had me rolling, you obviously put a lot of work into this thing, and it didn't disappoint. Except for one thing, I seem to remember promise of a certain guest appearance in this issue that didn't seem to materalize, any clue what I'm talking about? Anyway, really really really good Giant sized issue, especially Cerebus.

-James Hickson
The other white meat.

The Cerberus story seems to be the favorite from the feedback I've received on the issue. I'm not sure what you're talking about in regards to a guest-appearance, tho.

Lastly, we've got another letter from Jason Trenner, in regards to Giant-Size Champions #1.

Amazing Giant-sized issue. I just wonder if the Champions future will ever come to pass. Probably not (though I wonder if the Champion's business will run into the Black Knight/Defenders stuff). Question time...

As I said earlier, don't look for Aeon Flux to touch on Gary's Defenders storylines. I'm going to give Dres as much elbowroom as possible. The way I see it, just because Aeon is subordinate to Halcyon, doesn't mean either of them has to be up to their elbows in the other's business.

And it's not likely that the Future Champions' reality will come to pass in our MV1 timeline since the current Champions never returned home from the "Timelost" story in that continuum.

1) Is the fact that Scott Lang's missing why Pym's using the Ant-man identity?

Pym's Ant-Man again? Last I knew, he was going by Yellowjacket over in Avengers...

2)Will Black Panther be in Aeon Flux?

Possibly in a cameo, but nothing more.

3)Will the Champions visit the White Room?

Is that one of those Reese Halcyon/Immortus/Aeon things that I've let slip thru the cracks of my memory? Seriously, I have no idea what the White Room is.

4) Will the Champions fight the Dire Wraiths (or will they avoid that part of Limbo)?

The Wraiths may play a role in "Aeon Flux". Haven't decided yet.

5)With everyone making Batman references... has this freaked the Flash out?

Heh, that's a good question -- tho, fortunately Rachel wasn't talking about Bats in front of Barry. Maybe I can fit something like that into upcoming issues...

6)Is there any chance of the team fighting Magus (Warlock's father, not the evil part of Adam Warlock)?

Nope, not during my run. Always liked that evil bastard, tho...

7)Is there any chance of Aeon getting split like Kang and Immortus were in Avengers Forever?

Wait and See. :-) (god, I love saying that)

And I am spent, guys.

If anyone made it all the way thru this lettercol, thanks for sticking with me. And big, big, big thanks to Lonni Holland for cleaning up and remastering the title logo for me.

To everyone who's written me on the last two issues and the ones before that. I'm always astounded at how much support I get on this title, and I truly appreciate every single word.

See you in (approximately) thirty...

- Russ Anderson
10 November, 2001