14879/Me Am Happy to See You!

Me Am Happy to See You!
Date of Scene:	01 April 2023
Location:	Metropolis to Start. Elsewhere during the scene.
Synopsis:	A meeting between Bizarro and Superman, it doesn't go very well for either of them.
Cast of Characters:	Superman, Bizarro

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Superman has posed:
Metropolis. A sunny day that eludes to promises of warmer days ahead. Not quite shirking off all of Winter's Chill, the pleasant looking day does have a small cold bite to it. Some people are wearing hoodies and others are wearing their winter coats. The Daily Planet is busy as the eleven o'clock hour pushes forward. A lot of people restless as it's not quite lunch, but inching ever so closer.

Clark is there with Lois. They're going over the latest big story. And talking about a new common subject.

"You're saying the contacts still can't find anythign on Luthor?" Clark asks with milkd fustration. This is not a surprise.

So far, it's a regular morning. However, that can quickly change thanks to one particular individual.

Bizarro has posed:
    Secret identities are very important, Bizarro 'knew' this as it had been piped into his tube in those happy days when his world consisted of floating in ambiguous Science Liquids while Cadmus piped knowledge into him through a tube. All heroes must have a mundane identity to blend in with those they protect so that they might lead normal lives on those days that they wear their underwear inside their clothes and, being the greatest amongst all Heroes, Bizarro was no different.

ELSEWHERE:
The store front of a Big and Tall shop is shattered, a large mannequin lies as naked as the day it was unboxed amidst shards of glass. The shop keeper struggles to explain how a large, grey... Thing just came in, said he wouldn't take it, and then took it!

HERE:
The elevator dings as it arrives, doors sliding open. "This not me floor." explains Business Guyman, Legitimate Person. He steps off to the utter releif of the other people that had been huddled, shivering in a corner. Business Guyman is like if someone had shaved a very pale gorilla and put it in a shabby, grey suit. In one fist, he clutches the handle of a battered briefcase. "Goodbye fellow unemployed people. Oh No, It am Friday, am I wrong?" he bellowed as he stepped onto the news floor, his craggy features creaking into a near rictus grin as he takes off a pair of sun glasses that still had a price tag dangling from the ear piece. "Start presses! Me have great story about Metropolis Greatest Hero!"

Superman has posed:
A lot of heads begin to turn. It begins at the elevator when the doors go "Ding!" People are openly gawking. One or two people run into their respective office, or cubicles, for protection. The more crowded the area, more eyes settle on Business Guyman. Clark sees Business Guyman and he whispers to Lois, "I'll draw him away from here." And Clark is going off toward the stairs. He's not alone in this, which takes him a few moments.

Once he's outside of the building that's when Clark will duck into an alleyway. Usually, the process is quick, but this will take time.

Inside the building Perry White will step out of his office then pause. There's a brief moment he thinks about stepping back, but he pushes forward.

"What's the story?" Perry asks, treating Guy like he's on the payroll. He knows this is a distraction. It's to get the guy talking. Figure out what this jagged. . .thing wants. Both of his arms cross.

Perry is wearing a white shirt, with gray stripes that gives the illusion of light gray. A darker gray tie on his person that hides a medium gray tie that seems to be the happy medium between the vest and shirt. A simple pair of black slacks sit comfortably on his lower body.

"Out with it. If I'm going to make this the front page, I need the story!"

Bizarro has posed:
    Business Guyman, Legitimate Person and esteemed member of the Pull, as his name badge attests, lifts his attache case up and pats it with enough force to snap the handle free of one of it's fastening points, "Business Guyman have no evidence that he called Superman am Genuine Article!" Business reports, "You want this story on backpage." he continued, jabbing perry in the sternum with a stiff finger hard enough that it's liable to leave a bruise. He make everyone remember who fake Superman isn't. I won't show you!"

Business man all but wrenches the case open and six years worth of a deranged manifesto spills out at his feet. News paper rippings of Superman, each one defaced with a backwards, red F over the sigil of hope. Stooping, Business man picks up a few pages from the loose ream of conspiracy theory and holds them directly infront of Perry's nose. "You not Ed-i-tor? You not see! Business Manguy come to you with Unrestricted Conceal of lie!" Guyman promised, his zeal bleeding into almost manic state.

Superman has posed:
Perry tries to keep his composure as the stiff finger comes from Business Guyman. He still maintains his composure. "Why is the F there?" and then he looks over everything. "I am the Editor!" he says and the manic zeal makes Perry a little nervous. Nothing shows on his face, but it does make an issue for the Editor.

A tap rings through the office. A gentle rapping against the window. Anyone look out toward the window would see Superman floating outside of the window. "Business Guyman. You wanted to see me?" if anyone asks, Superman would say this is from Jimmy's watch (or Lois's). It wasn't pressed at all. And so Business Guyman can see Superman floating there waiting to get his attention. "We should talk," Superman says in the jovial tone with the arms crossed.

Bizarro has posed:
    :Perry's poker face could give Lady Gaga pause but unless the man could lay his hand on a lead-lined lamb, there was no chance he was going to pull the wool over Bizarro's eyes. He could see it in Perry's eyes, hear it from his heart. All but shoving one of the pages in Perry's face, he answered. "It means Real!" barked Business in a voice loud enough to make a few abandonded coffee mugs rattle on their desks. Then came that rapping, that rap tap, tapping at the window of the Planet's top-most floor. Quote the Kryptonian, 'You wanted to see me?'

"Yes!" a thundering denial.

How had that Fraud found him, no one had alerted him, he didn't hear that sound. That terrible, horrid sound that he could hear no matter how far he flew or how deeply he buried his head in the literal sand. Day after day, week after week, year after week. Someone calling for the phoney and not him! "That's not him!" Bizarro accused with a damning finger, "You stay here, me let him pass!" he told Perry, gripping the man by the shoulder and roughly pushing him away, encouraging him to run as he sent the elder statesmen of the press tumbling to the floor.

"I won't tell them!" barked Bizarro as those mirrored, blue eyes of his started to go cold. "Me not show anyone the truths you show. This begins now!" The slackness went out of Business Guyman's jaw, the slouch left his shoulders. His feet squared and his large hands took hold of his own shirt and jacket, tearing them with the terrible ease of a person pulling apart a spider's web. There it was, the Shield, the S. Backwards.

Bizarro moved in a sudden rush of speed and force. The glass between them shattering as the failed facsimile came through it with all the grace of e brick.

Superman has posed:
Superman is expecting this. He hoped the attack would come from the bottom of the building. However, he doesn't get caught flat footed. The second Bizarro rushes him, Superman starts to fly upward. "Me prove me am the slowest flyer and you are the fastest," he says trying to get in the scary head of Bizarro.

Trying to move quick, the plan is very simple: Fly themselves to some place empy. Fields of Wisconsin, Kansas, places like that. He hopes for Wisconsin because there is some homestate biasness. He's afraid some people could connect the dots between him and his history.

Looking back to Bizarro. "You am getting slower," Superman taunts knowing this could backfire real quick, real fast and wind up being real painful. Still, there's too many people. He doesn't want the people to get hurt. They matter the most right now.

Bizarro has posed:
    Every day, Bizarro struggled to understand and be understood by the world at large. It was like having to work a type-writer by looking at it through a mirror. The fact that this... this insult could speak so plainly to him and everyone else was beyond galling. A thunderous blow hammered through the air that Kal had just vacated, leaving Bizarro to whirl in the air where his adversary had once been. Snarling his anger and confusion, the clone looked left, right and down before the Farmboy drew his attention upwards.

Bizarro's features became a mask of rage in answer to Superman's goading jab, "Yes, me am slowest! Me show you what fake Hero can do!" he bellowed in Superman's dust. Every word seemd twisted bu that one. Hero. It had been drilled in too deep to twist.

He kicks off of the air and streaks after his sworn foe. A washed out shadow in the Man of Steel's wake.

Clark taunted him again and with a snarl, Bizarro surged. They were well beyond the city limits. A lonely interstate wound through the wide open country side far below as Bizarro pushed himself, shattering the sound barrier as a shockwave formed a cone in his wake. He reached out, a grasping, gnarled hand stretched out for the hem of Clark's rippling, crimson cape, straining, striving!

He snatched, hand sweeping, fingers yearning... and came up short.

"Me fix you!" his voice tarried behind the movements of his lips as his hand latched around Superman's booted ankle and pulled, "Then me break the world you put right!" he swore as a big, mean left hook came around towards Clark's chistled jaw to send him rocketing back down to terra firma.

"And when world broken again-" he uttered as he floated down in pursuit of the 'imposter', "No one know who me really am..."

Superman has posed:
Feeling Bizarro trying to paw at him, wanrs Superman. He can't slouch int his moment. Like having a demented monster nipping at his heels. "You're the Fakest Hero out there," and then he is still pushing fast. Bizarro starts to shatter the sound barrier and he does the same, but the taunts come back to haunt Superman.

Pushing forward another swipe at the cape, it misses, but barely. Then he feels a weight on his ankle. Superman looks to see a jagged ahnd gripping at a red-booted anle. There's a delcaration.

"BOOM!" and pain rocks Superman's jaw. Superman's flying had slowed, but momentum hand't stopped. The force of that hit sends Superman rocketing downward and forward. Spinning around in a circle. While the sound doesn't break the sound barrier it's bound to turn heads.

At first it's a multi-colored speck that rockets down toward the earth gaining speed, size and it collids into the Earth. A sea of earth kcisk up and streaks.

A lot of it may be reminscent to how Superman came to this world, rocketing down before crashing itno the world and kicking up everything in his path until the rocket stopped.

That's Superman's body right now. Pain wracking his body, he's slow to pick himself up. Bizarro deifintely has an advantage for a follow up attack.

Bizarro has posed:
    Battered boots touch down on the torn earth that marks the start of Superman's earthly grind. Is this it? Finally? Anticipation coils like a snake in his stomache. The life he was meant to have is so close but he's almost trepidatious to touch it! He lurches down along the path, a tree bars his way and he sinks his finger into it's fallen trunk, fingers biting through the bark and wood effortlessly before with the most meager of efforts, he snaps the tree in half, the groan of the twisting wood punctuated with a sharp, loud crack as he rends it into two and casts the kindling to either side.

The dust drifts and lingers on a gentle breeze, it does not obscure his sight but it is in the way never the less. His breath is hot, searing as he exhales a gale from a lips, washing the haze away with a huff and a puff.

There he is, Superman. Who he should be, every memory says so, every planted thought telling him that this is something that must be rectified.

His gaze hardens, cooling despite the heat of his glower, farmboy blue eyes going ice cold despite the rage that hammers in his chest. A sharp chill that shines and freezes as his eyes glow blue and loos two, thin beams of freezing light. It starts at Bizarro's own feet, a sheet of ice that races out across the torn earth as his gaze lifts and streaks towards the Man of Steel, a look fit to freeze him in place!

Superman has posed:
Superman and Bizarro are in the midwest. Somewhere in a small wooded area with a good mile, maybe three between them. The land is a mixture of grassy, small hills and bits of forrest. Animals scattered before Superman hit the earth. By the time Bizarro touches down, the animals are in a full run.

A cool chill starts weave through the air, dancing and weaving. That chill continues and the temps dip down further.

A bight blue light shoots forward, the color borderlines on a cool white in the center. It strikes Superman in the chest and he cries out. Ice starts to spread over his body. Bit by bit the cold rushes through him and starts to consume the Kryptoninan until he is caccooned. Expression with an open jaw, showing pain.

It looks like everything is coming up Bizarro. What might go unnoticed is a bubble. Then another. They're startng at Superman's eyes. Those bubbles will continue. Someone's not as frozen as it seems. The heat vision working it's magic. It's only a matter of time before Bizarro learsn this first hand.

Bizarro has posed:
    He could see it now, his perfect life. Keeping safe his chosen city, his chosen world, masquerading as one of them in those moments where evil did not threaten his tenuously kept peace. There in his Fortress of Community, the frozen fake, forever and ever, happily.

Of course, he didn't think of what the blistering heat of the Sahara would do to such a glacial prison. Mybe he'd use the run-off to keep Lypto's water bowl filled. Bizarro's jawline softened and his shoulders drooped. The end of his long excommunication was at last-

The bubble formed, water flash boiled from solid straight to gas, not even waiting around in the middle. It gave with a crack as two streams of Heat pierced the surface and drilled into his chest.

Physics could be dragged into the middle of this and whipped until something about super-heated air molecules expanding was talked about but it's not important. Eyebeams have impact, it's just simple truth here in the world of the funny papers. He barks his suprise when Superman's heat vision hammers into his chest and sends him sailing backwards, body seeming to fold around around the point of impact. His flight is short, a shallow arc carved through the air before he comes down in a tangle of tumbling limbs and tattered cape. His suit is durable for exactly the same reason that Superman's is... or at least as near as Lexcorp and Cadmus could figure. Even so, two smouldering spots are left in the wake of Superman's heated glare.

Not one to let a hard look cow him, Bizarro scrambles to his feet. "Get up!" he demands, he pleads as he briskly lumbers back to Clark, a big palm out stretched to intercept that searing glower until he's right on top of the true Kryptonian again. The grey goliath was more brute force than finesse but you didn't need much when your efforts measured on the rictor scale. His hands joined together and he drew them up over his head before bringing them down with considerable might!

Superman has posed:
It's weird to feel cold start ot warm instantly followed by the steam. Later there would be time to reflect on this. For now, Superman pushes thorugh his ice time and keeps the pressure on twith the heat vision.

Those jagged hands feeling the red that threatens to go blue due to the heat alone. Superman's not satisfiied with knocking the man down. He will keep going at it until he stays down.

However, that grey monolith is a unstoppable force when he wants to be. Bizarro takes step after step forward until he's right next to Superman.

What he does next won't stop the incoming blow, but it could turn the tide. The heat vision stops and suddenly both of Superman's palms slap into Bizarro's ears before the jagged mitts come clubbing down on superman.

It won't be like the movies where the ear drums rupture, but the blow is focused. Bizarro could be disoriented from it, knocked out, deal with a temporary loss of earing or a combination. For the moment if may not mean much, but it could give Superman an edge if ihe's able to disengage from Bizarro. Easier said than done since Superman's taking the full blow from Bizarro to do this preemptive strike.

Bizarro has posed:
    Getting popped in the ear just hurts. Getting popped in both ears hurts very badly. The point could be belaboured that getting popped in the ears with enough force that a mortal, human person's head would be reduced to a fine, red mist, skull, teeth and all! Unfortunately, Bizarro does not have the luxury of having his head reduced to a fine, red mist. For his sins, he survives.

Miles away, a boy sits across from his younger sister at their supper table. They are talking over glasses of milk. "So I says to Mable, Mable I says-" Bizarro, like us all, will never know what was said to Mable, such is the full extent of Superman's wicked and deplorable villainy. It's like a thunderclap, only worse, stronger, louder. All of it directly inside of his skull.

Bizarro looses a pained cry, clapping his own hands over his ears as he staggers, the steel in his legs turning into warm butter beneath him as he crumples to his knees. He groans, panting his pain and yelling indistinctly as the world around him suddenly lurches and rolls, his inner ears just about ready to become the outer ear of the opposite ear.

He's left reeling, struggling with herculean effort to retain his lunch.

Superman has posed:
Superamn doesn't expect that to work. Bizarro is starting to stagger and move about. Everything is a pleasant surprise. Sky blue eyes looking at the jagged man struggling.

Pushing off the ground, Superman flies toward Bizarro. The man does a right hook, mimicking the punch Bizarro gave him earlier. Trying to knock Bizarro into the Earth.Superman's trying to put everything he could into this blow. He wants to figure out where Bizarro can go. Could it be Luthor? Cadmus? Something more nefarious? The sky blue eyes focus on the big guy, unsure if this follow up shot did him in.

Bizarro has posed:
    The storm begins to ebb and the seas calm from their violent pitching to more of a gentle roll but none of it happens soon enough to help Bizarro avoid that hard hook that comes around at him just as soon as he's able to pull his hands away from his ears. It's like hitting... well, any of the other really tough guys that Superman has hit before. Bizarro's face and head snap away, turning sharply to the side, chin wagging loosely from what looks to be a literal slobber knocker of a punch.

The corners of Bizarro's vision go dark, shadows creeping in even as he tries to get his feet back under him. His head hangs, drooping. His eyes glaze over, bleary and unfocsed as he shift his weight to the side, trying to plant a foot in order to rise but he just can't seem to get enough tension in his leg. He remembers trying to push upwards but instead of going up, he went over. The dark that had been sheepishly crowding the corners of his vision rushed in to claim it all as conciousness decided to go and take a quick coffee break.

Bizarro pitched over onto his side, it looked for a moment like this would become a protracted brawl before the malformed malcontent crumbled onto the ground.

Superman has posed:
Superman rises upward. The hand goes up and comes down on the big guy's chin. It's another hard shot. It's a loud shot. The noise probably defining, almost hammering the man's body downard as Sueprman isn't throwing back. One of the last vision's Bizarro can see is Superman rising up, then the fist coming downward.

Superman knows whoever is watching Bizarro will be there to retrieve him. The sky blue eyes looking down at the entity for a moment. And it's in these few bits of silent he feels bad for it. Much like a crude Conner, Bizarro didn't ask for any of this. Yet, the personalty makes it hard to co-exist and puts so many in danger. That makes Bizarro a threat. Maybe another life it could be different, but not this one.