Hiro was sitting in the throne room of the Dominus, awaiting new dignitaries from a universe he had never heard of. Megatron and Dr. Borg flanked his sides. “Where did they say they were from, again?” asked Dr. Borg.
“From Universe M-0-R-0-N-1-C-4,” explained Hiro. “They should be here any…” Very loud fanfare blasted throughout the throne room, startling the three. A pair of acrobats then cartwheeled into the room. One was an elderly woman while the other was a young man. Both had blue skin and pointy ears. They performed a variety of tricks with a long stick, the final of which was the young man grabbing one end and the old woman grabbing the other and raising the young man up to the ceiling as he posed on his end of the stick. He then jumped off after holding the pose for a few seconds and landed on his feet before both of them bowed. Hiro, Megatron, and Dr. Borg clapped, amazed at the old woman’s strength.
“If a lady her age can do that,” muttered Megatron, “maybe the species as a whole is a strong one.” Fanfare played again as seven more of the blue-skinned people came in. They wore elaborate costumes and one of them wore round glasses, carrying himself with an air of importance. They were six men and one woman. One of the men, wearing an eyepatch, stepped forward.
“We are the Moronican assembly!” he announced. “Presenting the Maha…”
“Aha!” called the man in glasses. “Lazbanye ah benia foochi…!”
“Raja!” hissed the first man. After the Raja zipped it, the first man returned to introductions. “The Raja of Moronica, the incredibly wise tyrant of our land! As you can see, he speaks truly little of your language, so he has graciously employed me, the Djinn of Rummy, as his interpreter!”
“What does the Raja wish to discuss with me?” asked Hiro.
“He brings rare gifts of great value,” answered the Djinn.
“And they are?” asked Hiro.
“We shall see,” replied the Djinn. He moved towards the Raja and sat next to him. “Maha?” he asked.
“Aha?” asked the Raja.
“Rasbanyi yah pena pucci,” explained the Djinn, “The, how you say, beatnik, he aski taski whati fotsaiek yoo gotit?”
“Neatiink!” replied the Raja.
“…Neatiink?!” gulped the Djinn.
“Paska lar par yah pe te harojii, rubibia fee neatiink!” elaborated the Raja as he produced a ruby.
“Oh boy!” breathed the Djinn. He then presented the ruby to Hiro. “The Maha…”
“Aha!” interrupted the Raja “Lazbanye ah benia foochi…!”
“Raja!” snapped the Djinn. The Raja then went quiet. “The Raja says that he has brought our greatest treasure, the Ruby of Neatiink, as a token of goodwill.” Hiro accepted it and laid it on the throne’s armrest.
“You used the plural of gift earlier,” recalled Hiro. “Does the Raja bring other rarities?”
“We shall see what we shall see,” assured the Djinn. He returned to the Raja. “Maha?” he asked.
“Aha?” inquired the Raja.
“Rasbanyi yah pena pucci,” explained the Djinn, “tha, how you call, ironhead, he aski taski whati projesaia inganzomen gota somtink els keedo?”
“Yas bathen anfegar perha deheronji pamara DEEN he maheeha,” replied the Raja. He presented a large knife of obsidian. The Djinn took it to Hiro.
“The Maha…” he began.
“Aha!” interrupted the Raja “Lazbanye ah benia foochi…!”
“Quiatzen, Raja!” snarled the Djinn. The Raja closed his mouth. “The Raja also bears our most sacred ceremonial knife, the Deen of Maheeha.” Hiro took it and admired the workmanship. Megatron was not convinced.
“From the display of acrobatic tricks from the old woman,” he mused, “I can only conclude that your people are strong, but that is nothing without visual acuity. Can the Raja demonstrate such talents of eyesight, even with those glasses?”
“We shall see,” replied the Djinn as he returned to the Raja. “Maha?”
“Aha?” asked the Raja as he stood up.
“RAJA!” shouted the Djinn. “Squartee voo!”
“Shutzee van lippins!” snapped the Raja as he sat down. “Ras panee noo haffee too!”
“Rasbanyi yah pena pucci,” explained the Djinn, “thaan scrapheap, he aski taski yoo gottee treek?”
“Pas nyanee mar ta heroonjeem majeen rasheenos!” declared the Raja.
“Rasheenos?” yelped the Djinn. “Yoo goonaay heet da?”
“Rasheenos, Aye goonaay smaji da!” boasted the Raja.
“Oh boy!” praised the Djinn. He turned back to Megatron. “The Maha…”
“Aha!” interrupted the Raja “Lazbanye ah benia foochi…!”
“SHUTZEE VAN LIPPINS!” shouted the Djinn. The Raja glared, but did as was asked. “The Raja says he can hit a raisin placed on the top of your head with only a pistol!”
“Get a raisin and put it on my head,” Megatron ordered a Combatman. “Tell me, did the Raja bring a pistol?” The Djinn balked before returning to the Raja.
“Maha,” gulped the Djinn.
“Aha?” asked the Raja.
“Rasbanyi yah pena pucci,” muttered the Djinn, “yoo breengee thee peestolas?” The Raja then balked, then searched his robes.
“No peestolas!” he gulped.
“Uh oh,” whimpered the Djinn.
“Maha,” called the old woman.
“Aha?” asked the Raja.
“Peestolas,” replied the woman as she produced an antique pistol that looked like it was recently restored.
“Oh!” cheered the Raja. “Goodee!” The old woman bowed as a Combatman came back with a raisin and placed it on Megatron’s head. Megatron then stood up to his full height as the Raja aimed, pulled the hammer back, then fired! The bullet made a line across the top of Megatron’s head as it hit the raisin! Megatron cried out in pain.
“I’VE BEEN SCALPED!” he shouted. When he recovered, he glared at the Raja. “Why you…!” he snarled as he aimed his fusion cannon. The Raja yelped in fear. Megatron then realized he heard that yelp before! “…Computer, analyze the genetic makeup on these people,” he ordered.
“What for?” asked Hiro.
“Genetic makeup analyzed,” replied the computer. “Evidence of genetic engineering is present.”
“Run a projection algorithm on them, remove all traces of genetic engineering and display projections,” ordered Megatron. The Raja gulped.
“Projection complete,” reported the computer. “Displaying projected original forms.” The true forms appeared on the screen as the Stooges, Batman, Wyldstyle, Gandalf, Hongo, Richard, and Sh’Kar!
“INTRUDERS!” shouted Hiro as he leveled one of his guns.
“Hey, that gun’s pointing where you are,” the Raja, Curly, whispered to the Djinn, Moe.
“You mean it’s pointing where I WAS!” yelped Moe.
“CHEESE IT!” shouted the younger acrobat, Richard. Everyone ran through the Dominus and found a safe place to hide.
“Okay,” sighed the older acrobat, Sh’Kar, as she loaded a hypospray, “genetic modification’s not a good idea anymore.” She used the hypospray on her teammates and they turned back into their real selves. Moe turned to Curly.
“This is YOUR fault!” he snarled. “If you hadn’t yelped, we wouldn’t be in this mess! Now we’re in a tough spot!”
“Yeah, it’s gonna take brains to get out of this,” supplied Larry.
“That’s why I said we’re in a tough spot!” growled Moe.
“Boys, arguing’s not going to get us anywhere!” snapped Richard. “Batman, please tell me you have a contingency plan!”
“I do,” replied Batman.
“…Okay, your cowl makes it hard to read,” muttered Richard. “Do you really have a contingency plan or are you just saying that?”
“I have a contingency plan,” assured Batman. “We need to clear out the computer room and disrupt ship-to-ship communications.”
“Leave that to us!” offered Moe.
“Oh?” asked Sh’Kar as her forehead ridges returned.
“We got something in mind when we took care of a boat full of Nazis,” explained Larry.
“This better work!” hissed Batman.
The Stooges took up positions outside the computer room. Larry and Curly flanked the door while Moe stood in front of it. He opened it and called into the room. “Okay, you Ratzis, come on out!” he taunted. A Combatman came out and was immediately clubbed by Larry and Curly. Larry dragged the Combatman away as Moe called into the room. “Hey, you limburger destroyers! This is the beginning of the Second Front!” A Shocker Rift Dalek glided out as Curly shoved his club into the gunstick.
“EXTERMIN…!” the Dalek didn’t get far as it exploded from trying to fire its weapon. Larry shoved it out of the way and retrieved Curly’s club. Moe called into the room one last time.
“Okay, skunks, come on!” he challenged. A few more Combatmen then came out. Curly and Larry knocked one out each while Moe decked the third in the face. Richard as Kamen Rider Guard: Ascendant Batman Steel then swooped in and knocked out the third with a kick.
“Nicely done,” remarked Batman’s voice. Richard’s voice took over.
“Well, I do hit the gym,” he replied. “I still don’t understand why people don’t get that there are fat people that exercise and still maintain the weight they have.”
“Never mind that,” rasped Batman as Richard took Batman’s i.d. tag out and returned the Dark Knight to his original form. “We’ve got work to do.” Everyone dashed into the room and Batman got to work. “All right, uploading the virus now,” he announced. “It shouldn’t take long.”
“I hope so,” muttered Guard. “With the whole ship looking for us…ah hell! We’re made!” Dr. Borg flew in, her hands up in a defensive manner and accompanied by three Combatmen.
“Welcome to the Dominus,” she greeted. “I trust you are prepared to die?”
“I’m prepared to claim victory, if that’s what you mean,” challenged Guard as he drew his sword.
“No, it wasn’t,” replied Dr. Borg. She then grinned. “I must say, I’m eager for the thrill of battle!” The two then clashed white the Stooges were attacked by the Combatmen. They were overpowered and the Combatmen drew their swords, ready to give them a haircut at the neck!
“Wait a minute, fellas!” begged Larry. “You don’t wanna do this! I’ve got a mother! You’ve got a mother! Your mother and my mother are both mothers! I’ve got a father! And a grandfather! And a grandmother! And a little sister!” By then, he had brought the tears. “And a little brother this high!” he indicated how high the little brother was with his hand, hovering just below his chin. He then brought the hand down lower. “And a little brother this high!” Lower again. “And a little brother this high!” His hand was down to his knees by then. “And a great, big brother…” he clenched his hand into a fist and drove it into the Combatman’s chin, “THIS HIGH!” The Combatman was sent, literally, flying through the air until he landed on a piece of pipe, still unconscious.
“That was a shot, boy!” cheered Moe.
“That was a shot, boy,” repeated a voice. Moe turned and glared at the person speaking.
“Why don’t you mind your own business?” he snarled. “I just said that!” He then realized that the person that mimicked him was one of the remaining Combatmen. As he screamed in terror, his hair flew up like a fan had turned on beneath him. He then ran from the Combatman and was immediately chased by him. He then noticed a pipe on a string and swung it into the Combatman’s head. The face screen on the helmet cracked and the Combatman removed it as Moe caught the pipe again.
“HEY, YOU!” protested the Combatman as he waved his ruined face screen. “DO YOU KNOW HOW EXPENSIVE…?!” The Combatman didn’t get far as the pipe came back for another pass and hit him square in the head. The Combatman passed out and fell to the floor.
“A winner every time!” cheered Larry as he handed Moe a cigar. “No blanks!”
“Oh, thanks!” praised Moe. He bit the end off and lit it, then put the other end into his mouth and smoked it for a bit.
“Hey! What about Curly?!” asked Larry. The two then watched Curly’s fight with the last Combatman.
“…There goes Curly with a right jab!” called Moe. “…There goes Curly with an uppercut! …There goes Curly!”
“You mean here comes Curly!” yelped Larry as Curly flew towards his friends. He landed on top of them, nearly flattening them. They picked themselves up and Moe saw that the cigar was smashed.
“You cement-head!” snapped Moe. “You ruined a genuine Havini!”
“I’m the cement-head?!” protested Curly. “That guy’s MADE of cement!”
“Think, boys! Think!” directed Moe. “How can we beat him?!” Curly then started banging his head on a control console for a good minute.
“I got it! I got it!” called Curly.
“What?!” quizzed Moe.
“A terrific headache!” groaned Curly.
“Wait, I got it!” cheered Larry. He pulled out a music player and pressed the play button.
“What good’s music gonna do?” hissed Moe. The song was an instrumental version of Pop Goes the Weasel. The instant the music hit Curly’s ears, he started panting, then he ran his hands down his face multiple times, then he got up and stamped his feet as if he were about to charge. He whooped a few times, then went to town on the Combatman! “That’s it, kid!” cheered Moe. “Hit in the head! Now the chest! That’s the way!” Curly finished by picking the Combatman up and tossing him into a large pipe, knocking him out. Larry stopped the song and he and Moe ran up to calm Curly down.
“What happened?” asked Curly.
“You did it!” cheered Moe. “Success!” Curly saw the unconscious Combatman and realized what happened. He and Moe then shook hands, saluted each other, then mimed kissing each other. Larry tapped Moe on the shoulder and actually kissed Moe once he turned around. “I’m poisoned!” gagged Moe. He then slapped Larry. “What’s the matter with you?!”
“Let him alone!” snapped Curly.
“What are you butting in for?!” snarled Moe as he hit Curly on the nose.
“GANGWAY!” called Guard. The Stooges ducked as Guard sailed over their heads and landed on a control console. Dr. Borg then turned towards Batman.
“Got it!” called Batman. “Let’s pick up Sh’Kar and…”
“You’re going nowhere, you knock-off vampire!” roared Dr. Borg as she dashed towards Batman. Guard then picked himself up and got Dr. Borg in a choke-hold. Dr. Borg slammed him against a pipe, but he didn’t let go. Batman threw something at Dr. Borg’s cybernetic limbs. Guard released Dr. Borg, correctly guessing that they were explosive batarangs. They went off and Dr. Borg’s prosthetics were destroyed. “YOU MISERABLE REPROBATES!” shouted Dr. Borg. “It’s going to take me two hours to get my limbs fixed! …Wait a minute, I use my feet too! FIVE HOURS! YOU OVER-SIZED APES! I’LL KILL YOU WHEN I’M FIXED UP!” She flew off and went down the hall in one direction while Batman and his group grabbed Sh’Kar and made it to the escape pods.
“Here’s hoping that virus works!” gulped Guard.