re: Bard's Poor Attempt at a Combined Marvel/DC Universe (an ongoing project)

The internet has been down for days so I was finally able to sit down and finish up my latest story but now I have to go through some extra steps to post it. C'est la vie.

So what does Kermit the Frog have to do with my Marvel/DC universe? Glad you asked!



It's Not Easy Being Green

“Hal, I think that’s a mistake,” Glenn Talbot said as he stared at his friend, Hal Jordan. Hal, meanwhile was staring through the hallway glass at a new, pretty, young woman in the Accounting Department. “On second thought, it’s definitely a mistake.”

Without looking away from what had caught his attention, Hal responded (with a slightly amused smile on his face), “it’s okay, I know what I’m doing.” He finally looked back at Glenn as he started to walk back down the hall to the door to the Accounting Department, “this won’t take long. Promise.”

Glenn, trying to speak at a level where Hal could hear him but the people in the Accounting Department could not half-whispered/half-shouted, “that’s the ‘danger zone’, Hal! That’s the general’s daughter!”

Hal turned to look back at Glenn as he entered the doorway, his mirthful smirk plain as day. “Good, I love danger.” A wink later and he was making his way through the Accounting Department toward what Glenn figured would be Hal’s next sexual conquest: the daughter of the base commander.

Glenn turned away and shook his head in defeat. For the most part, he liked Hal. He may be just as cocky and confident as many other Air Force pilots, but he could back it up. Hal’s fearlessness, cleverness and intense love of flying all came together to make him one of the best pilot’s he had ever known.

Hal’s trail of one-night stands was a testament to his solid good looks and natural charisma. It was also the main bone of contention Glenn had with him.

Glenn Talbot was incredibly straight-laced and disciplined. He enjoyed the security of the expected and the precision of discipline. Things which fell outside the expected norms were undesirable and for others, who had a mind for such chaos, to handle. People who couldn’t grasp the comfort of such predictability amused him. This gave him the reputation of being aloof and smug, which confounded people as to how he and Hal Jordan could be such good friends.

Where Hal “Highball” Jordan was the unpredictable cowboy who flew by feel and intuition, Glenn “Professor” Talbot was so by-the-book that Hal often joked the phrase should be “by-the-Glenn”. For the two of them, their shared love of flight transcended any personality differences. Glenn fancied Hal had learned at least some discipline from his example even though Hal’s irreverent approach had shown Glenn unpredictability in a fight can sometimes prove to be a strategic advantage.

Glenn finally entered the meeting room, still fifteen minutes early as was his nature. Chief Warrant Officer Wendell Vaughn, the man responsible for base security ever since it became a joint base under ARGUS control, was the only other person there. He was seated at the opposite end of the long meeting table and grinning widely as Glenn entered the room alone.

“Professor, I thought you were ‘positive’ you were going to have Jordan in a meeting on time for a change. What happened?”
“Highball being Highball,” Glenn snorted.

“Who is she this time?”

Glenn thought for a moment. “Do you remember the old Allen Dulles phrase ‘plausible deniability’?”

“You mean the Reagan phrase.”

Glenn stared at him blankly for a moment to remind him that he was attempting to correct the “Professor”. “No, I mean Allen Dulles. As CIA Director he was the first person in the government to publicly utter the phrase, although internally it had been in use for decades prior.”

Wendell put up a hand to concede the point then rolled it to indicate Glenn should continue with the topic at hand. “Fair enough, but who is she?”

Glenn sighed. “It’s better for you if you don’t know. This is very likely to blow up in Jordan’s face and when it does you want to be completely out of the line of fire. Plausible. Deniability.”

Wendell Vaughn smirked before taking a sip of his coffee. “Maybe he’ll learn this time,” he asked jokingly.

“If the transvestite he picked up in Las Vegas didn’t teach him a lesson…”

“The guy told him he was a female gymnast from Cirque de Soliel,” Wendell cut in, snickering.

“…I’m not sure there’s any hope,” Glenn finished through a smirk of his own.