The Pixar Theory

Pixar movies are probably the only movies that you could make this kind of connection with using thirteen movies. I'm not saying that this theory is even remotely accurate, but it sure makes one heck of a theory worth making a crossover movie over.

Pixar, just do it!! It will be the biggest philosophical message any movie studio has ever tried to tell in the entire history of movies!


Kinda an Old Topic, But I Just Want to Know What These Adults Were Thinking

I mean, really, how generic could they get? Outcasting homosexuals and mentally-disabled people? The only thing I'm really surprised about is that no teacher showed up to tell the students that they've been tricked. I can't believe people are still this uncivilized in this day and age. It's one thing to troll on the Internet, but to pull this kind of manipulation in real life is sick.Is this a common thing that's still going on today? In 2013?

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Time For Another Mindless Rant - Readers Discretion Is Advised

 So, I was posting in this thread in CBR forums, about what we would want to do to celebrate Spider-Man's 50th anniversary coming next year if we are in charge. Then we started talking about getting Steve Ditko to come back to the Spider-Man writing game. One thing led to another, I started ranting. Here's the rant, and it is just a collective gathering of my thoughts and opinion, so please do not get offended. I appreciate Stan Lee for what he's done through the years, but I just had to get this off my chest.
I think he (Ditko) might still be bitter over Stan getting all the credentials for being the "Spider-Creator" (I would be bitter, and still sorta am when thinking about all the lost opportunities), whereas Ditko didn't even get a single cameo in any Spider-Man movie or TV show. Not that he, as a 'private person', would care for publicity (especially not on any kind of screens), but I could imagine how one must feel not being properly recognized for your work - by the general public, not only by the know-hows who knew better, that Ditko did a lot of good work for Spidey in the earliest days.

TBH, I never really recognized Spider-Man as "Stan's Spider-Man." That said, considering that his work is only present in the earliest of days, it wouldn't be proper for me to say it's "Ditko's Spider-Man," either - but that would be far more accurate. In fact, wasn't there a similar incident with The Fantastic Four, with Stan and Kirby falling out, too (after which somewhat brought down the creative level of the character creations), because of reasons also involving credentials? I don't want to point a finger at Stan, but I think these incidents speak very well for themselves.

I mean, even Stan said himself that he didn't expect Spider-Man to be as popular he is today, that he was just doing it to get the kids to pick up the habit of reading or something. Whereas Stan was just doing it to entertain, Ditko was actually doing it for the artistic nature of literature. Whereas Stan is the heartful Aunt May, Ditko is the productive Uncle Ben. So, really, who deserves more credit? The jester or the wizard? I know I'm ranting now, but like I said, I'm bitter. So until they get Ditko back into the Spider-Man game (which they won't be capable of doing, ever), I'm going to hold this memory against Stan 'The Man' himself.


Spider-Man Reboot - Villain Confirmed
Credit goes to Carnagesblood from Crawl Space MB for leading me (or the community, whatever) to the source. Looks like the plot is kinda contrived at the end, with the whole Spidey's name cleared by the man he saved, but I'm hoping good writing/scripting will pardon this efficiently.

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Stern Storytelling... Yes, I'm still gonna use that pun.

So, I randomly Googled some stuff about Spider-Man, and came across, once again, with this famed story, "The Kid Who Collects Spider-Man." Most of you would know this as one of the best Spider-Man stories put in the surprisingly few pages with even fewer words. I read the review for this in, and it goes something like, "You'll cry at the end of this story. Read. This. Story."
Typical Roger Stern. I can't wait to get over with O'Neil's run and jump on Stern's fabulous and fantastic run worth 4 webs for almost every issue. Great job, Mr. Stern.

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O'Neil and Debra Whitman

Oh boy. This whole Peter and Debra Whitman relationship during Danny O'Neil's run in ASM is bugging me to a whole new level. I'm reading ASM Annual 1980/#14 right now, and once again, Peter had to leave Debra to play Spidey, Peter made up some excuse and said that he'd call her later, and then Debra said the same line she used everytime Peter deserted her. "You don't have to bother."


A funny thought came to my head, though, out of the annoyance. A scenario, played out in my mind:
Pete: "Sorry, Debra, I have to go."
Deb: "You always have to go in the middle of our dates!"
Pete: "Well you're a real pain, you know that!?"
Deb: "Oh I knew it! I've always been a bother in your life, hadn't I?" *runs off crying*
Pete: "No, wait! Debra! Swell, Parker. Real nice."

(one panel later)

Pete: "Ah well." *swings off as if nothing happened*

Exaggerated? Perhaps. But you know something along this line is likely to happen with O'Neil's writing.
I actually have a more detailed rant on the beginning of O'Neil's run in this review, if it means anything.


Deathmatch: Chapter One - Bad Blood

 The following original story is rated FR15 for some sexual implications, harsh language, and some amount of non-explicit violence. The story is set in the 616 Marvel Universe.  
Eighteen Years Later
"Welcome, everybody, to Ameline Island. I am your guide for the day, Anthony Maximan. You may call me Tony... or Maximum."

The remark from the 21 year old tour guide, though awkward, brought some laughs to the arid atmosphere within a bus traveling across a endless spread of grass field. Anthony smirked. With a slick tongue such as his, not to mention a lifelong experience of buying his way out with his words, pleasing this crowd for the rest of the trip wouldn't be a big problem.

Though Summer was unusually warm that year, Anthony had dressed rather suitably for the weather; a thin bole jacket covering a mere piece of white undershirt, with a pair of blue denim jeans and Adidas sports shoes underneath to match. Being short-haired helped, too; the fussiness of his hair didn't.

"All surrounding areas of Ameline Island is covered by the vast ocean. For a decade, she has been a world-renowned tourist attraction. But much more famous is her exquisite Sports Coliseum."

As Anthony continued selling the tourists the brighter side of the establishment with his handheld mic, the bus began to come to a stop near a monument on a cobblestone sidewalk carved into the grass field. The stone statue had the black shape of a head mounted upon a short pillar. Four metal poles linked with pelted ropes cordoned off the monument, but they were clearly not meant to protect the piece, but merely serve as a reminder not to cross the barrier.

"And everybody, the head monument you see ahead of you is carved in the representation of the Founder of said coliseum, Mr. Lepton Foxe. Mr. Foxe is a much respected figure to us, the inhabitants of this island."

The tourists, while following a flag-waving Anthony down the bus steps, gasped with astonishment as they stepped into the fresh air. Their surprise wasn't born from the sight of the famous figurehead standing in the distance, but from how widespread the entire plain field had looked from the outside of the crammed vehicle. It was as if the grass field was just a measly percentage of the island mass.

"18 years ago, this island was still a barren desert. But came Mr. Foxe and his grand vision, and this No-Man's Land was turned into the best Entertainment Center mankind has seen. The island's Grand Coliseum, along with the Travel Agency I work for, are both owned by the great Mr. Foxe himself. Just so you know, Mr. Foxe has utmost intelligence. He's also a very charismatic entrepreneur."

Whether Anthony bought half the things that came out of his mouth was not part of his job descriptions; making sure the tourists do was.

After leading the people to the end of the sidewalk, Anthony had them taking souvenir photos with the disembodied head of Lepton Foxe. Naturally, the cordon kept them from sticking their own heads beside the statue, leaving the less interested folks taking photos of the gold words imprinted on a footstone beneath the monument instead.

Founder of Ameline Island's Entertainment City


Soon, the tour was continued back on the bus. As the foreigners returned to the rather air-conditioned contraption, one of them, dressed in a denim jacket over a maroon striped shirt and white jeans, pulled down a black cap over his face - much to Anthony's obliviousness.

"Alright. Sit tight, folks. We're about to take off."

When the assigned tour guide gave the okay to go, the driver, after doing his usual headcount, had noticed an increased number of passengers in the bus.

"Why did the 17 passengers we carried became 20?" the driver queried.

Anthony did his own count, and discovered there was indeed an additional number of three passengers aboard.

"Hey folks, did any of you happen to board the wrong bus?" the tour guide inquired in a cheery voice.

As the wandering heads looked amongst themselves in confusion, the three hitchhikers knew they were busted. It suited them either way, as pulling out a gun while the bus was moving could prove unhealthy for all of them.

"Don't move!" exclaimed two men sitting at the very back of the bus, including the suspicious figure Anthony failed to notice before.

"This is a robbery!" yelled another gun-wielding criminal at the front of the vehicle, jumping out of the seat located right behind the tour guide. Confusion built up with more confusion, the robber at the front hurriedly seized the opportunity and pointed his piece over the driver's head, giving it a good smack with his fist when his movements proved to be sluggish. "Drive, you idiot! Now!"

The bus began its return onto the asphalt road at normal speed under the demand of the robber. The last thing they wanted was unnecessary external attention. Behind, the other two had began their assault, each of them ordering the helpless tourists to toss their valuables into a white leather bag as they moved down the aisle. Like locusts, they swept their jewels and cash away into their possession in no time at all.

In a further attempt to assume normalcy, the armed man up-front ordered Anthony to continue talking to the tourists, as if the tour had proceeded as per usual. In a panic - and after receiving his share of head-smacking - Anthony fumbled his hands across the floorboard to pick up his mic.

"Alright, alright! I'll talk! I'll talk! Erm, do you folks kn-know that, th-the coliseum's operating hours last from as early in the morning at 7AM till as late as 4AM the next day."

While Anthony nervously ran his mouth off, the bus suddenly came to such a rapid stop, and the robber standing at the front without support nearly toppled his entire body over the driver, much to his conniption.

"What the f***!? Why the f*** didja stop the damn bus!?"

The frightened driver then raised his shaking hands towards an object at the front. A traffic light.

"It-it's re-red."

With automobiles coming in from both ends of the street, the robbers did not want to risk it, and hope to sit it out peacefully. Unfortunately, in no time at all, a honking truck behind carrying fuel canisters began to pull up in the next lane, right beside the bus. In their own panic, the criminals had themselves seated back down, hoping that they would not draw attention from the passengers in the aligning vehicle.

"Hey, Anthony!"

The passenger shouting sprightly from the delivery truck turned out to be 22 year old Akonis Hammer, Anthony's best bud from teenhood, dropping by in his working hours for a little chat. The tour guide shuddered, unsure of whether if he should respond. Nevertheless, the robber sitting across his seat gave a nudge on his head, signaling for Anthony to reply to prevent any suspicion.

"Let's meet at the usual place this afternoon!" continued Anthony's friend, seemingly unaware of the situation.

"I don't have anything to bet on!" Anthony replied as casually as he could try, yet his eyes rolled to the side of his sockets, towards the robber sitting across him in an attempt to hint his friend on the heat of things. "My wife confiscated all my money!"

It did not require superpowers to perceive the suspicious figure in the bus.

"How about that!" Akonis Hammer casually replied, quickly shifting his attention away from the window in front of him, where the robber was leaning against. "Serves you right, Anthony!"

Soon, the green bulb lighted up. Riding in shotgun, Akonis gestured for the driver to drive on, and both vehicles began riding down the same road. Yet, the tanned young lad wasn't going to remain in his seat for long.

Ensuring that he remained unnoticed by the passengers in the bus, Akonis unhinged the truck door swiftly and hopped towards the back of the car, where the fuel canisters were placed. In just mere seconds, he attached himself from there onto the back of the bus and unhinged the emergency backdoor with equal agility.

The member of the gang sitting in the furthermost back of the bus, however, noticed Akonis' entrance as soon as he got on board. But just as he pulled out his weapon, the latest hitchhiker plunged himself towards the robber and wrestled the gun away with such strength the trigger could barely be pulled before the pistol was tossed out of the window, to the back of his gas tank-filled truck. Upfront, Anthony used the timely confusion, along with the tourists' frantic screams, to give a few rounds of his fists to the robber nearest to him, right across his seat. With a kick, the thug fell back against his seat, and the other tourists then gave their timely assists, hitting the man with their purses and high-heeled shoes.

Meanwhile, behind the commotion, Akonis' kick sent his victim flying all the way to the very back of the bus. Just as Akonis was going to give chase, the overlooked third member of the gang pulled him back by his stomach, allowing his comrade his opportunity for escape through an open window behind. The crook peeped through the opening, checking urgently his trajectory across the truck one feet away from the side of the bus. Jumped he did, and he successfully landed on his side in an opened spot unoccupied by the canisters.

Back on the bus, the thug who had restrained Akonis from giving chase before was being pounded, not merely by Akonis himself, but also by the other tourist passengers who suddenly felt braver ever since Akonis' interference. At the front of the bus, the robber Anthony was pounding was met by more tourist hands than before, and all he could do was bellowed with agony under the barrage of angry fists.

In their fury against the ex-tyrants, they had forgotten about the third member, and the truck Akonis had exited out of was slowly driven away ahead of the bus. Akonis noticed that just in time, and signaled to Anthony, who quickly urged the bus driver to keep chase on the vehicle before him.

"Hurry!" Anthony pressed on. "Drive faster! Faster!"

In front, the truck ride for the criminal wasn't a pleasant one, as he struggled to stay on top of the canisters when a curve on the road appeared up ahead. Naturally, he had a better plan to stay on board.


The hapless driver whom Akonis had abandoned was shocked to find the robber pressing a pistol against the glass window behind his seat. He panicked. Rather than sliding open the glass panel, he floored it, and the truck began speeding dangerously down the road... where a populated area soon approached.

Eventually, the speeding truck was winding through the urban areas, near the Grand Coliseum itself. The traffic began to increase, but it was not enough to stop the hulking bus from pursuing its frightful prey. Behind the truck, the robber's grip on the car became increasingly difficult, and he could not risk to shoot the driver at this speed, either. But his concerns regarding his safety would soon be proved to be needless.

As the truck made its way through the congestive traffic, the bus tailing behind took a shortcut. Before long, it suddenly cut off the truck's path and forced the driver to put on the brakes. The abrupt halting naturally threw the hitchhiker off-board. Before the distant guards of the Coliseum could interfere, the robber got up immediately upon his fall and grabbed one of the gas tanks from behind the truck, threatening to fire his pistol against it if anyone made a move against him.

Nearby, one of Lepton Foxe's higher ranked lackeys, Aldric Harloch, was also present at the scene. His ostentatious lime-green suit donned over an equally elegant lemon top distinguished him effectively from his bodyguard, Ludovic Perfidus, who had stepped out of Aldric's car with him, all dressed in a dull grey suit draping a red striped shirt.

"Don't fire!" Aldric ordered, fending off the security guards' raised pistols with his arm.

The two words spread down the guards like an echo, neither them nor Ludovic knowing how to deal with the tour bus robber turned terrorist. Two other individuals, however, knew just the proper way.

It happened in the blink of an eye. Two small projectiles fired from both sides of the robber. Not bullets. Something bigger. From one end, a triangular-shaped, claw-like weaponry was lashed out by Akonis, stepping out of the bus in the nick of time. From the other end, a fire bolt tearing through the air after its generation within Aldric's palms. Despite the size of either projectiles, it happened too fast for the robber to catch on, but the two opposing directions they came from did trigger a deadly emotion in the crook's mind - confusion.

In a state of panic, he would have pulled the trigger, were the projectiles not fast enough. But the two of them hit his hand successfully, perhaps even at the same time. The sharp jerk of pain thus caused the robber to free his grip on the weapon, leaving him vulnerable.

With the bargaining chip out of his palm, the security guards quickly moved in, only to be thrown the canister the robber was still holding. He missed. The guards ducked. The distance between the guards and the crook was not far enough for the latter to pick up his pistol once more, before the guards pinned him down against the truck.

"Nice move, Mr. Harloch!" Ludovic complimented his boss. "Talk about having a sharp eye and faster reflexes. If any bullet had hit the canisters, it would've caused an explosion."

"What are you talking about!?" Anthony's distant voice cried out. "FYI, the deed is all due to Akonis my man!"

Audaciously walking towards the dropped weapon in the manner of a hoodlum, Anthony proceeded to picked up the 'sharp claw' that had previously injured the robber's hand, casually flashing the keratin-made weapon before Aldric.

"My bud, Akon, was clearly the one who used this well-crafted weapon to injure that maniac's hand!" Anthony continued, wrapping his arm around a reluctant Akonis. "The one who has any real moves at all is our very own Akon Hammer, not you!"

As Aldric Harloch bitterly glared at the two young punks who more than put down a middle-aged man such as him, salt was added to his wound as the tourists from the bus stepped down to thank the hero who had saved them from the criminal clutches.

"Akon, very good!" Anthony further extended his compliment in a humored voice, with a thumbs up this time.

"Alright, cut it out, Anthony," Akonis lectured, lightly shrugging off Anthony's arm from his shoulder. "Mind your words!"

But Aldric Harloch disregarded Akonis' supposed humility. That day, Akonis had made an enemy out of him.


Deathmatch Redux - Prologue

I have a great story to tell. But I just have trouble putting it out in words. I have a very poor vocabulary, and my grammar is rather shaky at best. So I'm going to try something, summarizing my story with my best effort and capability. It's definitely no Shakespeare, but... let's give it a shot. 
The following original story is rated FR15 for some sexual implications, harsh language, and some amount of non-explicit violence. The story is set in the 616 Marvel Universe.
Prologue 1: Duel of the Masters
It all started as a pleasant day, eighteen years ago. Akai Tanner was just a little kid, barely seven years of age. His father, Kendrick Tanner, had brought him to a small island off the coast of Costa Rica, Ameline Island. It was going to be a building site for Kendrick's dream, a tourist attraction with the most extravagant entertainment facilities known to the world as of then. With the fundings readied and the construction began, it was a dream come true. Alas, it was not to last.
The father and child were exploring the site, mesmerized by the great opportunities that land could offer. As they returned to the four-wheeler they had drove in from their boat, two other vehicles pulled up behind their transport. Six men stepped out of both cars, with two carrying a suitcase each.
"Mr. Tanner, I presume?"
"My boss wishes to purchase off this little island from you."
Kendrick was less than interested in money, of course. Money he could always earn from his creation. Money wasn't involved in his dream.
"Who is your boss?"
"Lepton Foxe."

The name was well-known to him at the time. He was a powerful adversary in his business. Almost an underminer. Yearning to sort this out with the irritable tyrant, Kendrick agreed to follow the men to their boss, a fatal mistake he would have wished he hadn't made.
Within the cruise ship Foxe was waiting in, the tyrant was having a tarot-card reading in the ballroom - a request made by his servile wife. The wizened old man had an ill reading as he flipped the cards upright... much to Foxe's displeasure, naturally.
"The first card is The King. It represents Mr. Foxe's wealth and fortune."
"The Queen represents Mrs. Foxe's doubts and worries."
"The Wheel represents a big change that is to come upon your family."
"The Lion represents an impending adversary of great strength Mr. Foxe shall encounter."
"The Devil. If Mr. Foxe's mind is not strong enough, he shall cling onto him."
"Death. It shall pay a visit to your family in the near future."
That drew the straw. He was amused at first, by the ludicrous nature of the reader's words. But the mentioning of the final card was an insult his pride and ego - traits Foxe is well-known of - would not tolerate.
"Are you done?! You dare to toy me with this little magician act?"
Lepton Foxe was known as more than a ruthless businessman. Like many of the super-powered beings of New York, he too wield certain 'talents' that he sometimes used to further convince his fellow clients and competitions not to be a problem for him. Using the minimum of ease, Lepton raised the cards into his rising palms and swirled them around in mid-air. Telepathic display this was not. Nothing more than mere illusions, to be accurate.
As Foxe continued his mesmerizing performance, he secretly stashed away one of the cards into his costume - the Death card.
"Fate is controlled by man's hands," Foxe boasted as he slowly descended the cards onto the table, neatly stacking them back into a single deck before the reader. "Go ahead. Deal the cards. Let's see what kind of fate you could deal me this time."
The reader shook his head as he began to deal the cards once more.
"Mr. Foxe, you're too confident of yourself. As such, you have brought your wife more concerns than ever. And it's due to your self-righteousness that the wheels of fate have turned for you. Soon, your adversary shall appear."
After dealing the final card on the table, the Devil card remained nowhere in sight.
"This is no longer the Devil card. How do you explain that?"
Unknowledgeable in Tarot as any average individual, Foxe had not known about the true representation of the card.
"This card, Mr. Foxe, is Justice. If you continue to use unjustly methods to deal with your adversaries, Death will still appear." With that remark made, the reader drew another card onto the table, and the said Death card was revealed. But the reader was yet to finish. From the main deck, he continued his draw. "Your family, your first-born, second-born, and your third-born will all be taken away by Death itself. And if you remain stubborn, with Justice standing by your adversaries, she, too will receive the proper judgement."
As he concluded his reading, the reader pointed his index towards Lepton's youngest child - his daughter, sitting in Mrs. Foxe's arms.
"Bull***! I, Lepton Foxe, only believe in Man's triumph over God! I will never believe your lunatic ramblings." Lepton then proceeded to pull out the one card he had kept hidden within the cuff of his suit and flashed it in the open. "The Devil was already in my hands all along! What do you say to that?!"
As Foxe released a maniacal burst of laughter, he tossed the card away from his sight and departed the religious talk he was becoming tired of. When he had turned to walk away from the table, however, Foxe failed to perceive the discarded Devil card's perfect landing on top of a particular card in the center of the tarots - the King card. Both Mrs. Foxe and the reader, naturally, witnessed the ominous sight.

On the other end of the ship, Foxe's men had successfully brought Kendrick and his son on-board.
"Escort Mr. Tanner down to Mr. Foxe's quarters," ordered the only member of the black-suited lackeys dressed in white.
As the other men proceeded to lead Kendrick as they were ordered, the white-suited one held young Akai away from Kendrick's clutches.
"What is the meaning of this?!"
"Don't worry, Mr. Tanner. We'll take good care of your son."
 "Just you dare harm my boy."
Bitter that his son was taken away and be put in potential danger, Kendrick paused for a moment as the men guided him. He turned around to take one more glance of Akai, hoping his boy would be safe.
"This way, Mr. Tanner," insisted one of the men escorting him, forcing Kendrick to go along with this blatant trap.
Standing over an adjacent platform up top, the reader and Mrs. Foxe watched the events unfold with worried hearts.
"Mrs. Foxe, you have to convince your husband to take precautions. Even though his Art of Deception might be legendary and unmatched, deception will always lead to a bad end."
Within, Foxe's men had brought Kendrick down the steps to an arena, where he came face-to-face with the group Lepton Foxe was notorious for being the supreme leader of, The Elemental Eight. As the name suggests, the members of the team consisted of individuals with the powers over the elements of the Earth, with only the leader himself being the exception. Standing patiently in the spacious room, three of the eight members challenged Kendrick to a fight. Kendrick wiped them clean, naturally, even when all three of them worked together at the same time.
The female of the trio, Maria, had the power over the earth. She had attempted to seal Kendrick in a solid dome of hardened soil, leaving only a single opening available. This would give the fire-wielder, Jankris, the chance to envelop the entire interior of the dome with his flames, leaving not a single area untouched. His heat would be further increased by the airbender, Henderson, who would use his power over the wind to increase the intensity of the flames bursting into the dome.
The strategy was well-planned, of course, if they were dealing with any normal individual.
Instead, Kendrick's powers allowed him to avoid any of that mishap before it actually happened. It was not telepathy, future-sight or any of those mind-bending skills, but rather the heightened perception of his senses. As soon as Maria had raise the dome out of the Earth, Kendrick had already leaped out of the way and out of sight. The plan proceeded as intended with ignorance, and only after a minute of barbecue cook-out did Maria lowered the dome, only to find a circular section of the flooring charred and blackened, but with no corpse in sight.
"Over here."
The voice lured their eyes above, much to their mistake. As soon as they raised their heads, three wooden sticks were fired towards them, each of them hitting the same spot on their bodies accurately - the lungs. Naturally, the impact was not strong enough to harm them in any way, but it was certainly a satisfying victory for Tanner, who literally dropped in on them thereafter from the section of the ceiling he had clung onto.
"Hope I didn't damage your egos too badly, boys. Lady."
Standing above in a private booth, the familiar maniacal laughter was spread throughout the room, echoing from one corner to another. Turning their attention to the source of the voice, the three fallen villains took in a gasp of nervousness as Lepton Foxe threw a vicious stare over them.
"Mr. Foxe, I presume?" Kendrick remarked with glee.
"The Elemental Eight had always been unbeatable. Even with the three of you, you are still utterly defeated. My entire reputation is tarnished by you pathetic worms!"
 "We understand what we must do."
Upon Maria's signal, the three super-powered beings each pulled out a dagger sheathed in their costumes. To Kendrick's utter disbelief, the trio proceeded to lash out the blades against their eyes, leaving them eternally blinded.
"The three of us," the trio said all at once, "we shall never use our powers ever again."
After the shocking episode was done with, Lepton led Kendrick back into the ballroom he had came from, with his son escorted behind him by Foxe's man. There, another surprise awaited Kendrick. Sitting at the end of the table this time was Rebbecca Tanner, Kendrick's very own wife.
"I would never have thought that you would be interested in conversing with a woman as average and powerless a normal citizen as my wife, Mr. Foxe," remarked Kendrick as he approached the table. "Unless you have an ulterior motive...."
"You belittle your wife, Mr. Tanner. She came here prepared, my friend. Look what she brought with her." Reaching under his gold-plated dinner jacket, Lepton pulled out a sheet of paper familiar to Kendrick's eyes. "Your deed to this land."
Ashamed, Rebbecca turned away from her husband while shedding a tear. "I'm sorry, Kendrick..."
"Half of this island has already belonged to me, Tanner. Your little dream of building that Tourist Resort could no longer be fulfilled. There can only be one tycoon on this island!"
"Name a price then, I'll buy it back."
"No... I wish to gain that second-half of the island as well!"
"And you wish to blackmail that out of me?"
"No, not blackmail. We are both super-powered individuals, after all. Let's battle this out. The winner walks away with the other half of the deed."
"Hmph. You are the Master of Deception. I am the Master of Perception. Both our abilities lie in different areas. Why the need for battle?"
Again, the maniacal laughter.
"That is, unless you do not wish for your entire family to leave this ship in one piece!" Lepton's frightful words caused Rebbecca to leap in fear, and into Kendrick's arms.
"What do you mean by that?!" Tanner retaliated.
"Kendrick Tanner, I will battle you today no matter what!"
Kendrick breathed in slowly. His adversary is frighteningly powerful and utterly cunning, but it was his belief that the power of perception - along with his belief in justice - will ultimate triumph.
"Fine. If I win, you shall return me the deed, and allow my family to leave here safely. But if I lose, Ameline Island is yours."
"Excellent! BUT, I feel that the stakes are not exhilarating enough. I, Lepton Foxe, had battled against you for more than a decade, and yet we were unable to decide a reigning champion. This match we have today, whoever loses... will have to swear abandonment from using his powers forever! And you know what that means..."
Having to witness Lepton's own minions' unbelievable actions for himself, he more than understood his meaning. Naturally, with his strongest perception being his hearing, he knew, rather than a depravity of sight, Foxe would ask from him his very own ears.

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