The News Reporter moved amongst the carnage of Gothopolis. Behind her, cars burned, building walls collapsed and Barry Manilow could be heard playing in the background. The camera and sound man followed her through the wreckage. Most of the area was deserted. In the distant the sound of tanks driving through the city could be heard. She stopped and composed herself, checking her hair and suit. She looked over her shoulder to ensure the scene behind her looked right. She turned back to the cameraman, microphone in hand. 'Start rolling on three,' said the reporter. 'One, Two, Three ... The scene behind me looks like a terrorist group may have struck Gothopolis. This entire neighbourhood seems to have been detroyed. Cars ahve been overturned, buildings destroyed and civilians sent running for their lives. Reports of an unidentified large green monster have been coming in from all over. The Mayor of Gothopolis and the police commissioner have been quick to deny that such a monster exists. Casualties are unknown at present, though the sound of the national guards tanks and gun fire can be heard in the distance.' As she said this, a group of US army soldiers could be seen running down a nearby street. They were closely followed by a tank, which for all intensive purposes was flying upside down, with it's gun barrel tied in a knot. 'We're here at what appears to be the epicentre of the ensuring disaster. As you can see, this is not a natural disaster, this is man made. Whoever, or whatever group is responsible is as yet unknown. All we are sure of, is that people are leaving in droves, the city burns, and the authorities seem to be unable to cope with what is happening. Who can save Gothopolis now? We don't know. Maybe we need some sort of superman. Who knows? This is Lois Lane, signing off for Channel thirty eight news.' 'Cut,' said the sound man. 'That was great Miss Lane.' 'Thanks,' said Lois as the news crew headed back towards where they'd parked their van. 'Whatever is happening here, it certainly is more than the National Guard seem to be able to handle.' 'Yeah, let's get outof here before we find out,' said the camera man. If they could have stayed ten seconds more, they would have had the news report of the year. A large green monster appeared at the end of the street and ran ... neigh, bounded down the road. He stomped on cars, bent street light poles and peed a big green pee into the air like a fountain. Let's face it, in the comic stripes this guy may have had magic stretch underpants, but in real life, there wasn't a pair of jeans that could hold this monster. So, big green Hulky was running naked around Gothopolis where the entire National Guard could see his tackle. How he peed flouro green will be a mystery for many years, but Hulky, alias mild mannered Doctor William Banner [yes, the comic books, tee vee show and movie changed his name], could make green fountains, whcih he liked to spray all over the place. If you've ever woken up with strange green stains all over your house, it's most likely that Hulky has marked his territory. Meanwhile, Clarke was still at the top of the building he'd managed to leap to the roof of, Harold firmly in a place he'd rather he wasn't. 'Don't worry Harold,' said Clarke. 'I'll get you out.' It took some effort, but thanks to his remaining super powers Clarke was able to get Harold out. Just as he finished, Bruce Wayne arrived at the top of the building via the stairs. 'Ah, you're still alive,' said Bruce. 'No thanks to anyone warning me about that guy,' replied Clarke. 'Well, you need to understand about Gothopolis,' said Bruce. 'This is the place where ex-superheroes, super villians and shamed glam bands come to live out the remander of their days. It's an ugly town, but it's the only one we cna go where the authorities will ignore us most of the time.' 'You seemed pretty switched on mister,' said Harold. 'Can you help Clarke here regain his super powers? You see, the FBI gave him some bad stuff, and his powers have gone.' 'If you can get me the money, I can restart my Wayne Industries company. I've got the business brilliance to make a lot of money, but I need someone to act as a front for the company. You see, if people know it's me, they won't buy the products. However, if they think it's a new kid on the block, then I can make them, and myself rich. I can return to fighting crime.' 'And I can return to my drug habit,' said Clarke. 'I can get you that money, Mister. I just need to snatch a few more handbags, and we're on our way!' 'That's the spirit, lad,' said Bruce. Bruce, harodl and Clarke (with a slight limp), left the top of the building and headed to the stairwell. Below, the city burned and the sounds of the sirens from the cities emergency services could be heard. Soldiers screamed and tanks were washed down the road in a river of green. A shadow no one had noticed moved across the roof top. It spoke in little more than a whisper to itself, 'I think I have to stop that handbag snatcher. Or else my name isn't Lex Lunther.'