Sunday, April 02, 2006

Wanna-Wanna-Bing-Bong the new battle cry of Dept. H (or, what's left of it). After the majority of our Field Agents were wiped out by one of Onestar's Spasmatronic Smartypants Bombs, we have had to regroup, rethink, and revisit some of the long-suppressed traumas of our youth.

Of my youth, that is. Yes, growing up an Anglophone superhero in a mostly French speaking corner of Manitoba was difficult, and twenty-some years of electroshockprimalscreami'mokyou'reok therapy has done little to efface the scars.

Ok, memos will be circulated regarding my linguistic insecurities. For now, we have a war to wage. Or do we? It is clear that the Sparkling Monkee Racers have been annihilated. I handpicked most of those monkees myself from the virgin rainforests of Madagascar. It's enough to make a superhero squeeze a genetically enhanced tear from his laserbeam-shooting eye.

But there's no time for that! Even as I sit here in my field tent, writing this report, with the lovely Nelvana searching for her lost contact lens beneath the desk and doing that thing with her prehensile tongue...Nelvana! Not now! Can't you see what's at stake here?

Did you know that Nelvana's first published appearance hit newsstands a full two months before the first Wonder Woman comic, making her the first female superhero in the history of the genre? That's why we still keep her around here at the Department...that and her pulsating marsupial--Nelvana! There'll be plenty of time for that once we've taken The Ridge!

Which ridge, you might ask? Well, I'm glad you did because the answer reminds me of a time when I was but a young super-yearling, sitting on my papa's knee, listening to stories about the Old Country, and how things used to be before a giant volcano destroyed our entire villiage. Ah, but that was long ago...