Okay, if you’re reading this, you’d
better be a male member of Forte. This entry should be password
protected, and, according to Vanguard, unhackable, so let’s
hope nobody who swore the Secret Oath of the Brotherhood of Forte
on the big night got weak and decided to share this info with
one of the gals. Dudes only, people. Just a reminder. In case
you were too drunk to remember the oath.
Though this night will likely be shrouded in supposition and hearsay
for many years to come, what follows are all the facts. What many
a tabloid would love to get their hands on. The real story about
what went down at the bachelor party of Vanguard.
First, the set-up. This party was arranged by yours truly (the
best man, in more ways than one…) and Phantasm. I point
this out so that if this all comes out one day, I can be able
to point out that the really bad stuff was all John’s idea.
We’re all clear on that, right? Okay. We talked about a
lot of options, but what we really decided was that we wanted
something very private, secluded, something where we could get
lots of hero types together in an environment where they could
just kick back and relax, away from prying eyes. Well, John had
just the thing. Being head of BRAND does carry some privileges,
so the Colonel got right to work arranging things.
The confidential invitations went out. Everyone on the list knew
what the party was for, and that they’d be transported somewhere
remote. That was about all they knew. All was veiled in secrecy.
Speaking of the invitations, let’s get the guest list out
of the way. In attendance from the Forte boys were myself (Dr.
Jackal, in case you didn’t figure that out) and John, Anvil,
Tommy, Armature, Electro Man, Matt (your former Hammer, now with
Armor Security), Lightsedge, Secundus, Tripwire, and, of course,
Vanguard. From the new Forte crew, Seahawk, Max and Rainier were
invited as well. From the Four Aces, Golden Man and Steelhawk.
From the Justice Squadron, Cannonball (let’s hear it for
guys whose wives (on the same hero team) let ‘em out of
the house!), Blue Beetle, and Black Cougar (Captain Thunder very
graciously and politely declined, sending his best wishes to Vanguard
and promising not to miss the wedding. Echo and Silvershadow were
unable to attend). From north of the border, representing Canada’s
finest, Centurian, Shaman, and the new Guardian of Northguard.
From Armor Security, Grav, Riptide, Tracker, Triphammer and Clark
Davis (formerly Energon of the Paragons). From the Enforcers,
Spirit of ’76 came solo, as Dr. Steel did not RSVP. And
from the Paragons, Starman, Avatar and Blaze showed up, with Knightmare
bowing out. Well, and Diamond Fist, too. Technically he’s
a guy, but he’s in a woman’s body now, so it just
would have been weird. Thankfully it wasn’t really his scene.
And this party wasn’t just for dudes from this Earth alone.
This was a trans-dimensional party. Three other worlds with Vanguard
pals represented. From MAGIC, our old buddies Wingboy, Whiplash
and Hologram (make a mental note…the best and worst thing
you can do to any party is invite Hologram…) made the scene.
From the world of the Questors (I’m never going there again.
Just making sure we’re all clear on that) came Vice Grip,
Sabot and Jubellon. And from Crusade’s Earth, Tradition
(yes, Tradition!), Lionheart, Gatling and Avalon showed up.
And back on our Earth, the rest of those who attended included
Captain Compass, my favorite cousin Spider-Man, Johnny Quest,
Stephen Strange (Mrs. Mist), Bruce Wayne (Mrs. Cincoflex), Franklin
Richards (my daughter Sam wants me dead for inviting him, as she’s
apparently kind of breaking up with the boy), Our boys from UNCLE
Seattle (Bill, Gary and Juan), Cameron (Cinco’s butler),
all Vanguard’s old buddies at Bottom Line, Inc., and, finally,
Commander Ned Seevers of BRAND, John’s cohort in party intelligence
and execution (and an old pal of mine, too, I should add). Well,
there’s one more, but I’ll save that surprise for
a little later.
This was a major covert operation, which one would expect when
the head of Canada’s intelligence agency is helping run
it. Step one was getting everyone to the party. Now unlike my
40th birthday party, there was going to be no handy teleportation
to gather people up. Because this was stag only, we weren’t
going to be using Samantha or Trixie for any TP. That would involve
them knowing where we were going. Not going to happen.
As far as Vanguard knew, we were having this party at the base.
Well, he was part right. That’s where it was starting, at
least. That’s where the west coast contingent was to meet
up. So the Forte boys all met there first (except John), along
with Cameron, Bruce, Stephen, Captain Compass, and the Four Aces
guys (who we ended up referring to as “The Two Aces”
all night, by the way). Oh, I should mention that Bruce showed
up neither as Bruce or Batman. He showed up in make-up (very good
make-up, as I didn’t recognize him when he showed up at
the secret door) insisting we call him “Matches Malone”.
Ooookay. A little paranoid about the secret I.D. Fine. Somehow
that’s perfectly appropriate for a Vanguard party. We started
off there with a drink, toasting our buddy Vanguard.
While this was going on, Johnny was working the dimensional gate
at Questar, bringing the guys from the others worlds across. They
all showed up in street clothes (like their secret I.D.’s
were going to be blown on a different Earth. I know, but it was
part of the covert thing, had to happen), and piled into one of
the Questar rideshare mini-busses, with Johnny behind the wheel
(after a guilty good-bye to Trixie, I’m sure…). They
were headed off for the rendezvous.
The rest of us, also in street clothes, split off into different
vehicles and left in different directions. We all ended up, at
different times, down at the waterfront, where each group took
a different boat. This included Johnny and the Alt-Earths Gang,
who headed out in one of Johnny’s boats (the “Bandit
VI”. Or was is VII?). One by one, we all met up at an island
that’s the sole property of UNCLE. It serves as both a safe
house and training location, depending on the time of year. At
this particular time, it was empty. That is, except for Gary Williams,
Bill Reynolds and Juan DeMarcos, the Men from UNCLE Seattle. They
had the Bottom Line Inc. guys already there, a nice surprise for
Vanguard.
Also showing up on a boat owned by Riptide were the Armor guys
(including Matt, Clark and Franklin). They made a little vacation
of it and slowly worked their way up the coast to Seattle. Matt
probably wrote it off as a business trip for them.
With all boats appropriately docked (except for Johnny’s,
which drove itself home), we didn’t tarry. This, contrary
to what we had Vanguard thinking (or hoped we did…probably
not), was not where the party was. We all loaded up in a nice
pleasure boat, with Captain Compass behind the wheel (who else?
Please), and started heading north.
North to Canadian waters, matey. We left U.S. waters behind, baffling
many of the attendees. We had everyone suit up in hero gear at
this point, too (those who wear the stuff). Soon we found ourselves
at another island. Could this be where the party was? Oh, not
so easy. Our boat docked there and we all disembarked. Soon, out
of the clouds, came a sight that perfectly shocked and stunned
everyone. It’s not every day you see an SHIELD stealth jet
copter transport. Massive thing. It landed, and out steps John
in full Phantasm gear, motioning to the copter as if to say, “Nice,
huh?” Yeah, we were all appropriately impressed. Can you
imagine the kind of pull you have to have with Nick Fury to “borrow”
one of those things?
That’s just what I was thinking when Nick Fury himself stepped
out.
John saved that surprise for all of us. I didn’t even think
of the big man. Didn’t think he’d make it if we asked.
Guess I underestimated him, and the draw of a Vanguard bachelor
party.
John also had his Canadian buddies from Northguard aboard. So
we all got aboard, too. Aboard for a very fast flight. That sucker
can move. Like, supersonic. I found out that our pilot was Commander
Wally West, who we’d met before, and who was part of Nick’s
trusted inner circle. Where we were going was supposed to be a
secret, but…um…we had Tracker with us. He let everyone
know we were fast approaching the province of Nunavut. If you
haven’t heard of it, you should have been reading the international
section of your newspaper (or any of your newspaper, you TV news
heretics) around 1999, when the Canadian government created it.
They split up the Northwest Territories. So we were headed for
this new and really, really cold and desolate territory.
The copter landed on top of a mountain, basically. There was nothing
anywhere in sight, for like, ever. Tracker, of course, spotted
our final destination, but Grav kindly shut him up. We all (Nick
included) disembarked, and our transport took off and disappeared.
Everyone looked to John and I, but we just checked our watches
and smiled between ourselves. People started to gripe quickly.
It was summertime, but still pretty cold up high where we were,
with the sun having gone down. But just minutes after, another
SHIELD transport showed, smaller than ours. Right on time. It
was the east coast gang, having gone through their own covert
steps to get here. The copter dropped off the ‘Gons, the
Squad, cousin Pete and the lone Enforcer. All the boys were in
the house. Except that there was no house.
After greetings and handshakes and a few first-time meetings (mostly
with the off-world guys and the east-coasters), the questions
started. Right on cue, the ground near us opened up. A large elevator
obviously meant for vehicles rose up. Waiting inside was Commander
Seevers, BRAND, with a big ol’ grin. John and I stepped
in, gesturing for the others to follow. Down we went. Way down.
The complex below was an abandoned Canadian government installation,
originally used for something called the “Weapon X”
project. Whatever it was, it had been gone for quite a while.
John knew about the place, and when I told him we needed somewhere
secluded, the wheels started turning, and he picked this place.
A long way to go just to get away from it all? Well, not really,
when you’re talking about super-heroes who spend all their
time trying to keep up the public image. This was the one guaranteed
set-up where everyone could feel free to relax and just be themselves
among their fellows.
John and Seevers had gone to work on the place. Most of my input
had been over the phone and email, but they did the grunt work.
They’d not only cleaned it out, but decorated and brought
in goodies. There were a couple of pool tables in one room. A
bunch of tables obviously set up for poker. Dart boards. A fat
video screen. A great sound system. Mass quantities of utterly
fantastic food (I kid you not, a chef was blindfolded, flown here
by military transport (piloted by our other BRAND friend, Major
Dayton (so one chick was on site, but that was before the party)),
did all the work, and was flown out before we got here. There
were also bars in every converted room, more than fully stocked.
And boxes and boxes of fine Cuban cigars (hey…it’s
Canada). The furniture was high class and elegant, giving the
feel of a gentlemen’s club. All in all, one heck of a spread.
Food came first, since everyone was pretty hungry after all the
travel. No one was disappointed. We were sorry the chef wasn’t
there to thank personally. We chowed down at the tables set up
as a galley area. There was also plenty of stuff for snacking
through the night available.
After chow, I made a speech inaugurating the party, and another
toast was made to Vanguard. Lots of good fun here, lots of people
chiming in with Vanguard jokes. It became kind of a Vanguard roast.
Then John suggested, before the festivities started, that we take
a tour of the impressive base. Sure, everyone was up for it. John
walked us through the various abandoned chambers. Looked like
a lot of scientific research happened here at some point. Nick
seemed particularly quiet during this tour, so I get the idea
he knew a thing or two about the place. He wasn’t talking,
so I wasn’t asking.
We finally reached a large circular room, with a high domed ceiling.
There were sealed doors all around it, our door of entrance being
one of them. And there were a number of couches and chairs throughout.
Not sure what it once was, but it was obviously converted for
our use. Once everyone was inside, John’s radio went off.
It was Seevers, who had excused himself from the tour the check
on some things. He was shouting about a security breach. John
spoke urgently back into the radio, asking to him clarify. Seevers
started breaking up, yelling that we were surrounded. As you can
imagine, everyone in the room was suddenly on high alert, and
ready to bust out of there and find out what was going on.
All the doors besides the one we’d come through suddenly
slid open. We were surrounded, all right. By Dr. Cyber. Summer
Silversmith. The Queens of Steel. Sidesaddle.
Well. Sort of.
I think everyone caught up to speed when the hidden speakers kicked
on and Motley Crue’s “Kickstart My Heart” started
rolling, and the dreaded Forte female foes all started dancing
their way in.
It…was…CLASSIC. Couldn’t have gone more perfectly.
All John’s planning, I must point out. The looks on the
faces of some of the greatest heroes ever assembled…priceless.
Nick Fury started laughing his ass off. I should note here that
as soon as Seevers’ “warning” came through,
I had to quietly put a hand on Tracker’s shoulder and shake
my head at him. HE knew what was about to happen, but again, kept
his mouth shut. That made five of us that knew about it. Me, Tracker,
John, Seevers and Vice Grip.
Yes, we had strippers there. These were not just any strippers.
See, as I said, there are plenty of concerns about heroes and
image. Do you think for a minute that any stripper hired to put
on a show for this group would be able to keep her mouth shut
about it? It’d be all over the papers. Major international
news. This is why John, suddenly producing a microphone and playing
host to the…uh…festivities...quickly introduced our
entertainment and explained where they were from. How do you make
sure a stripper won’t talk about seeing you at a party?
Well, first, it helps if that stripper’s from an alternate
Earth, where no one even knows or cares who you are. And second,
it also doesn’t hurt if that stripper’s actually an
agent of that Earth’s CIA.
CIA strippers from another world. I am NOT making this up.
The minute John started talking about us needing strippers—both
because it’s a bachelor party tradition and because it’s
three times as funny pulling strippers on Vanguard—I started
talking about the whole security and image thing. He told me he
could figure out a way to make it happen. I’ll admit it…I
had my doubts. But he started doing some inter-dimensional emailing
and chatting with Vice Grip about it. So give it up for Vice Grip
for providing the solution. If you don’t know about the
Earth where the Questors come from, read up on it elsewhere in
the database. It’s pretty messed up. In summary, you’ve
got the United States (with many more states than we have) as
one super-power, and on the other side, you’ve got the Eternal
French Empire. Oh, and you’ve also got the Free and Independent
State of Texas, which seceded, and there’s a war going on
with them, too. One that I got stuck in the middle of during a
“friendly” visit to hang out with Vice Grip (along
with Wingboy and Lionheart).
Their CIA has massive power. The guy running the Questors, Dr.
Adleman, is way up there in the ranks. Anyway, their covert operations
are both vast and colorful. Guess they’re realists. What
better way to infiltrate the French, right? So there is an actual
team of covert female agents that go undercover as exotic dancers.
Naturally, if you want this team to be effective, you want the
best-looking and most talented ones you can find. Oh, they’re
talented. Believe me, they are.
So Vice Grip and John work up this idea where this would be part
of their “field training”. Vice Grip somehow arranges
it. Then it’s a matter of getting the girls here. Well,
to do that, you have to use the dimensional gate at Questar. To
do THAT, you need Johnny. But how do you talk Johnny into going
along with bringing a bunch of g-string spies over? John’s
opinion was that you don’t. Johnny either wouldn’t
go along with it or he wouldn’t be able to keep the guilt
off his face when talking with his wife. So, John explained to
me, somehow making it make perfect sense, we would need to break
into Questar, activate the gate, rearrange the gate logs so Johnny
wouldn’t know we’d used it, and then sneak a bunch
of strippers out of Questar and smuggle them into Canada. Like
I said…perfect sense.
And that’s exactly what we did. I invited Johnny over for
dinner with the family, so we could be sure he wouldn’t
be sneaking in for any late night work. And while dinner was happening,
Colonel John Clayton, head of BRAND, was breaking into a major
American corporation. Seevers was waiting with the van nearby.
Can you just stop for a moment and imagine ramifications of him
being caught? Mind-boggling, isn’t it? But, of course, he
wasn’t caught (he’s Phantasm, come on). He circumvented
security, made his way to the dimensional gate room, which I should
add is one of the most secure rooms in the world, got in, opened
a portal, and out came strippers. All being CIA operatives themselves,
sneaking out was not a problem. Then it was off to Canada for
a couple of days of waiting before the actual party.
So while our super-villainesses were busy handcuffing Vanguard
to a chair, I was explaining all this to Johnny, trying to explain
that it had to be this way for the surprise, and that we didn’t
want to have to put the burden on him to have to lie to Trixie.
He took it okay, seeing as how John’s kind of his father-in-law
and all. I think he was both miffed and impressed that John got
past his security (which I’m sure has been completely revamped
by now). But, speaking of Trixie, he also excused himself from
the performance.
Now, speaking of that…I don’t think I need to go into
too much detail here about who stayed around for the show and
who headed back upstairs to shoot some pool instead, as that’s
probably best left to the party-goers to know. If you know the
people involved, just look at the guest list and make your own
guesses (though you may be surprised on a few). Some stayed, some
didn’t, but everyone was fine with the situation and understood
this kind of thing happens at a bachelor party (just usually without
the CIA being involved), and we knew in advance certain folks
would step out. I’ll just say that those who stayed had
a good time, and those that didn’t had a good time shooting
pool. And I’ll close the subject by saying Vanguard was
an exceptionally good sport, all things considered. I think especially
so because he knew John was dying to see how uncomfortable it
would make him. Don’t worry, Mrs. Vanguard…he was
a perfect gentleman. The only highlight I’ll point out was
John trying to convince Captain Compass to try the “Do you
have a little Captain in you…?” pick-up line on one
of the girls. Classic. Oh, that, and Hologram putting the face
of Maxwell Ravenscroft on one of the strippers at a delicate moment.
That’s just evil, man.
Once that was over, we said good-bye to the strippers, and Dayton
showed up with a transport for them. She and Seevers flew the
ladies away, to deposit them in the safe house they were staying
in until we could sneak them back into Questar (with Johnny’s
help this time) and get them home. With all the civilians gone,
the heroes—and friends of heroes—were all able to
relax a bit more and unwind. And a few more drinks helped with
that, too.
As much as we tried to convince Cameron that he was here as an
invited guest, he kept trying to be the butler. Finally a compromise
was reached when he restricted himself to bartending. Man, if
I’d had known back in the day how good he was at it, I’d
have stolen him from Cinco and moved him into the base. So drinks
flowed freely for a while, more pool was played, some darts got
thrown, and cigars were smoked. Oh, here’s another free
party tip for you. If you feel the compulsion to invite Sabot
to your party, do try to keep him away from the liquor. Aside
from him continually referring to Shaman as “Chief”,
he offered to refresh Shaman’s drink by asking, “A
little more firewater there, Chief?”, as well needing another
cigar and offering Shaman a dime for one. Shaman managed to keep
it cool and roll with it for the party’s sake.
There was a lot of good bonding during this time, Sabot notwithstanding.
I could tell Clark was really enjoying hanging out with his old
pal Starman, and was getting to know the new Paragons a little
better. Oh, speaking of which, the Russian guy, Avatar, is a party
machine. Love that guy! I keep forgetting Tracker was a Paragon
for a while before the whole Armor Security gig, so he had some
catching up to do, too, and he and Starman were telling old tales
to Grav, Triphammer, Riptide, Avatar and Blaze. Gatling, Seahawk,
Whiplash and Centurian had a riveting (yawn) conversation about
their respective armored suits, with Johnny offering suggestions
for upgrades and improvements. There was a great moment with Nick
Fury chatting with Max, telling him old war stories, and the kid
was enraptured. I found Hologram and Wingboy at one of the bars
talking with Franklin, telling him all kinds of stories about
their Earth’s Reed Richards. Avalon, the walking romance
novel hero, was catching up with Jubellon, seeing how life had
been going since his vampire nature was removed during that whole
Jericho Effect thing. Tradition, Electro Man, Spirit of ’76
and Golden Man were in a discussion about heroism in World War
II, and trying to find any differences between Crusade’s
world’s WWII and ours. Wingboy (our resident lawyer), Steelhawk
and Armature were engrossed in a talk about the law and heroes,
and the civil rights of villains. Rainier and Tommy were talking
about aboriginal myths and facts in the Americas. “Matches”
mostly hung with the Forte guys, and every time someone else would
quietly ask who he was and how he was connected to Vanguard, we’d
each have a different story. It was great. Blue Beetle ended up
in a serious dart game with Secundus. Matt and Stephen sounded
like they were discussing Stephen and Sydney’s investment
portfolio (this is what happens every time you invite an accountant
to a party). My cousin Pete and Lionheart were smoking stogies
with the Bottom Line guys, trying to get old Vanguard stories.
Bill, Gary and Juan fell into shop talk with Captain Compass,
talking about local smuggling on the Sound (notice that even retirement
doesn’t stop some UNCLE guys). John, Vice Grip and I were
mostly telling stories of the early cross-dimensional adventures
to Lightsedge, Tripwire and Guardian. Anvil, Black Cougar and
Cannonball were talking about the mid-west, which I was just too
west coast to properly understand.
And Vanguard? Robert was sort of working his way around to the
different groups, graciously accepting ball-and-chain jokes and
good-hearted doom-saying from the married guys in the bunch. I
think he was really having a good time (once all the stripping
stopped). Just watching him work the room made me realize we’d
done a good job with the gathering. It was worth it if, for nothing
else, just seeing Robert relax for a change.
The next organized part of the festivities came soon, and that
was my contribution. I’d gotten together with Hologram ahead
of time and scripted this whole thing out. I did a little emcee
work and hosted something called “This May or May Not Be
Your Life”. You probably know Vanguard, so you get the joke.
The idea being since none of us can be really sure of his real
past (or his real face half the time), we did a little stroll
down (maybe) fictitious memory lane. Hologram provided the “surprise
guests”. The first was a West Virginia coal miner, in full
gear, talking about Vanguard working with them in the mines all
those years, them living in the same trailer park, Vanguard losing
his virginity to the guy’s sister (ironically, so did the
guy himself…). Then a few partying frat boys made the scene,
talking about their house brother Vanguard and what a major partier
he was (Wooooo hoooo!). A buxom stewardess showed up and talked
about working with Vanguard on all those trans-continental flights,
and how nobody was quicker on the draw with the peanuts than him.
All her expressions of emotion about Vanguard were acted out in
exaggerated hand motions (ala, exits to your front and rear),
which was a very nice Hologram touch. They got progressively weirder.
A World War I doughboy talked about serving in the trenches with
Vanguard, fighting against the Hun. A bearded lady talked about
all the years in the circus she worked with Vanguard. An African
bushman in a loincloth came out, squatted by a fire, and told
a tale of Vanguard no one could understand, as he spoke his own
language, full-on clicking and everything. It was a riot. Following
that was a kung fu master straight out of the Saturday matinee
flicks with robes and everything, speaking emphatically about
Vanguard in Chinese. On this guy, though, Hologram provided subtitles.
This master convinced us that Vanguard’s kung fu was the
best. Finally, John Glenn came out and talked about his fellow
astronaut (guess who) and what a great American he was…and
how he actually wrote the “one small step…”
line. In the end, John Glenn had everyone join with him in saying
a big “Thanks, Vanguard!”
Once the holographic guests were gone, I went around the room,
having everyone do a quick “How I met Vanguard” and
say a little something about him. Many very nice things were said,
and many a great story was told. Did you know Vanguard and Blue
Beetle met for the first time in a sewer? I didn’t. This
was the one part I really wish we’d videotaped. Kind of
touching…but in a manly, bachelor party kind of way, of
course.
This led into the last of the planned material, which was a film
I’d put together, thanks to my media connections, of some
of Vanguard’s best and worst moments caught on tape. Seriously,
if you were a member of Forte, you would just cringe whenever
someone put a mic in his face. You just never knew. He was either
going to say something inspiring and heroic, or something horribly
blunt that would cause backlash for weeks. The film went over
really well. People were rolling. Some literally. Vice Grip fell
out of his chair.
We were getting ready to settle into poker and cigars and wind
the night down when someone made a comment that changed the whole
face of things. I think it was Gary, but I can’t be sure.
But someone said, “Gee, the only thing this party is missing
is a karaoke machine”. It was an innocent enough comment,
meant as a joke. Remember what I said about inviting Hologram
to a party? Master of illusion, both light and sound? He’s
a WALKING karaoke machine. So he thinks it’s a great idea,
and starts to demonstrate how he can make it work. Half the room
is moaning and wanting to throw him back out on the mountaintop,
the other half is trying to dare each other into it.
Finally the dares had it, and it was a matter of seeing who had
the guts to actually do it. And who do you think ended up stepping
up to the mic? Whoever you’re thinking, you’re wrong.
It was Johnny Quest who surprised everyone by stepping up to bat.
I was floored. After a quick whisper to Hologram, he breaks into
Neil Diamond. A killer “Sweet Caroline”. Brought the
house down. Everyone was cheering him on, singing along. Please
just stop for a minute, look back over the guest list, and imagine
this group, glasses raised, belting out Neil Diamond en masse.
Historic and frightening. Got to give it up for Johnny. I definitely
saw a different side of him that night.
So after he broke the ice, others gave in, one by one, and started
doing songs. Oh, my God. No words can properly describe it. You
had guys singing and the music coming from everywhere, but you
also had Hologram adding visuals to go with it. I’ll just
attempt to list the ones I can remember.
The UNCLE boys and Nick Fury did a rendition of “Secret
Agent Man”. A drunken Wingboy belted out "Broken Wings"
by Mister Mister. Cannonball did “Rocket Man” (and
not a bad job at it either). Starman, oh my God. I forgot that
this guy’s an actual musician and singer. He got up and
did “Shining Star” by Earth Wind & Fire, complete
with dance moves, and while Hologram did the sound, Starman used
his own light illusion powers to put on an amazing light show.
He was fantastic. A fellow Paragon of his was much less fantastic,
but still very much appreciated, when the Armor guys talked Avatar
into doing “Back in the USSR”. He wasn’t the
only Beatles tribute. What else would you expect from a guy named
Blue Beetle? He did “Hard Days Night”, and Hologram
had the other three Beatles pop up and do it with him, with lots
of screaming girls, too. Ed Sullivan showed up and did his outro
as we all cheered.
Sure to be immortalized in legend, and rightly so, would be Captain
Compass’s “Come Sail Away” rendition. As will,
I’m very sure, be his return to the mic with Tommy, as Pete
came up with the idea of The Captain and Tomarssuk. Yes, they
did “Love Will Keep Us Together”. Hey, they could
have done “Muskrat Love”… Grav’s “La
Vida Loca” was energetic and memorable (the dancing on the
bar especially). Lionheart, at the urging of Gatling, got up and
did George Michael’s “Faith” (post-Wham rockabilly
isn’t restricted to our world alone, looks like). People
just kept thinking up stuff that would be funny and forcing others
into it. Steelhawk had to do Bon Jovi’s “Wanted Dead
or Alive” (I backed him up as his Richie Sambora). Golden
Man had to do the theme from “Goldfinger”, and if
had been anyone else inhabiting that big gold body of his, they
would have made the obvious joke during the chorus and actually
given the crowd a gold finger. Not our GM. Rainier, big rocky
guy that he is, had to do Def Leppard’s “Rock of Ages”,
with Hologram putting big rocker hair on him and those of us young
enough (in this crowd) to have grown up with the song pumping
our fists and belting it out with him (the guy’s an anthropologist,
for crying out loud. How beautiful was this?). In yet another
totally unexpected move, Secundus did “Kung Fu Fighting”.
Phantasm and Seahawk backed him up doing overly cheesy martial
pose freeze frames at the appropriate moments. Do you THINK the
liquor was flowing? And oh, man. Matt and Triphammer doing “Hammer
Time”, complete with M.C. Hammer dance moves. I wept. And
all of us non-Canadian, non-BRAND guys joining together to sing
“Blame Canada” from the South Park movie. Yeah, we
were gracious guests to our northerly neighbors. Oh, and I can’t
leave out Electro Man going Tom Jones on us. Unbelievable. It
WAS “Unusual”, and it was magnificent. Oh, and we
did force Hologram to do a song of his own, and he pulled out
Juke Box Hero. Wow. He saved the best light show for himself.
You honest to God thought you were in the middle of a stadium
concert. There’s little doubt left for any of us that attended.
Hologram kicks ASS.
But, among the silliness, there was a little nostalgia. Some of
the Forte boys got together and sang a little song to Vanguard
about him leaving us behind. If this ever comes out, I’ll
be forced to deny it (as will we all), but the guys from Forte
went Gloria Gaynor. We did “I Will Survive”. Me, John
(yes, John), Anvil. With Hologram providing an appropriate disco
ball. Please tell me it was just a bad dream. The Bottom Line
guys got together, too, and said their own good-bye, singing “Happy
Trails” to their old buddy. I then sort of closed things
up by deciding to do a little Queen, with “We Are the Champions”,
which, as expected, was a big sing-a-long and a big hero bonding
moment.
But we couldn’t let Vanguard get out without some participation.
We saved him for last. There were many suggestions of tunes he
should be made to do. But in the end, Vanguard walked up, told
Hologram what music was needed, then got a barstool and sat on
it. Hologram brought the lights down and put a spotlight on Vanguard,
who took off his mask (some of the people there had never seen
him without it). The piano began. Mic in hand, with the room around
him hushed, Robert started singing Sinatra. “One For My
Baby”. Singing. None of us have ever heard him sing. And
out of nowhere, he’s remarkable. He didn’t just sing.
He emoted. No one could say a word or make a sound. I remember
looking at John, my jaw still down a bit, and shaking my head
in quiet disbelief, and John just grinning and nodding. And one
by one, all of us Forte guys looking at each other, smiling, reflective
and sentimental. One last surprise from our man Vanguard.
He finished, and got the standing “O” he deserved.
Seemed to go on forever. Everyone came up for handshakes and hugs,
and another big toast was inevitable. We drank to our teammate,
our brother, our friend. Pretty emotional stuff for a bunch of
guys in tights, let me tell you.
The rest of the night was filled with poker, more booze, more
Vanguard stories and more laughs. I remember lots of French jokes
from Sabot, that for some reason were really really funny. I mean,
they were bad jokes, but just his delivery and his own helpless
roaring laughter after each one somehow made them hilarious. The
booze helped too, of course. I mean, when else is “How many
Frenchmen does it take to screw in a light bulb? None, they’re
all too busy screwing small boys!” funny? But, there we
were, all in tears. There was a moment when the strong guys decided
to do what we termed the “Feats of Strength” and try
to outdo each other. Things got broken. For a while I thought
the mountain was going to come down on us. The Vice Grip/Avatar
arm-wrestling match was about as close as you’ll ever get
to seeing the Olympian gods in action. Who won isn’t really
important. Just know that it was an epic sight to see, and those
two bonded pretty well because of it. A lot of mutual respect.
What else? John trying to raise in poker by betting Manitoba?
Black Cougar trying to teach Bill some moves? Stephen Strange
taking the pulse of a passed-out Tripwire and shaking his head
at us in his best “We’ve lost him” look? You
had to be there. That was one of the funniest things I’ve
ever seen. Just one of many unforgettable laughs that night. What
we got was exactly what we wanted. A great night for Vanguard
to spend with his comrades, a chance for some pretty famous and
otherwise responsible guys to cut loose and have a good time,
and a memory that, unfortunately, few people well ever know about.
Historic is definitely the word to describe it.
So those who didn’t fly off under their own power waited
for the transports to come the next morning. We all said our good-byes
and made the sacred oath of silence. The strippers were returned
to their own world, with Johnny doing the sneaking this time (to
get them past Trixie). Everyone went back to being their usual
upstanding selves. But no matter how many heroic feats each man
attending will go on to perform, no matter how many battles he’ll
fight and lives he’ll save, his memories, looking back at
it all, will have to hold a special place for the Captain and
Tomarssuk, for bad French jokes, and for one amazing night in
Canada amongst brothers and friends.
Thanks for being the reason it all happened, Robert. And all of
our congratulations, our best hopes and wishes for your future
happiness, and our gratitude for your company, your wisdom, and
your friendship. One last toast from your boys.
