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Not since his days as Captain Cripple in the original League had Pasty felt this empowered. Sure, he had often reminisced about those "good old days," but he had never before realized how much he actually missed it. For a moment, he thought he could actually feel the pulse pounding in his veins. He quickly realized it was actually a Mongolian steed crashing through a table laden with finger food. Invigorated nonetheless, The Captain sprinted for the Pastymobile and sped off towards the warehouse.

Watching the heroes as they rushed out, General Spanky allowed himself a smile. Rather than a smile of hope or encouragement or any other feeling a man in his position might display, however, this grin seemed almost... twisted.

"League of Special Individuals, huh. We'll just have to see how 'special' you really are..."

Afterwards>>>

"That's a very strong horse," Mitch said to himself as he began to clean up. Mitch then saw an ominous shadow cast upon the table. He looked up and saw a face which he knew and feared. It wasn't whose face it was that he knew, but rather the expression. It was the expression of fleeting patience. It didn't help that the face belonged to a nun. "I'm terribly sorry Madame, my inattentiveness is inexcusable and your waiting for my service is unacceptable. How might I begin to repair my reputation?"

Mitch was glad to leave. In fact, he had been trying to think of some way out of there before they found out he really didn't work with those guys. Also, Aside from sleeping in, he's been very lucky today. He took the communicator in hand and tried to keep up with the nun. Mitch was suprised at how in shape she was, hinking that sort of lifestyle didn't require much tough excersize. He was suprised and a little out of breath.

<<
"What do you mean, 'the alien's gone?' You let him escape?!" General Spanky was furious as one of him men tried to explain a most curious event.

"Well, sir, I'm not entirely sure there even was an alien-"

"Alien? Where!?!"

"Sir, Captain Pasty's called a meeting," Another of Spanky's men rushed into the command center. "He'll be here shortly."

The Pastymobile pulled into Area 42's parking lot, scattering the newly laid gravel. The Captain hopped out and waited for Eagle Eye to do the same.

If this place sucked any worse, it would be a friggin' vacuum. Pen thought despondently. Her wanderings across the islandinsula that day had convinced her that not only was the place a god-forsaken rock, it wasn't even god-forsaken in the old-fashioned fire and brimstone way. It was just dull.

She paused at a "DUCK X-ING" sign on the road with a cold feeling in the pit of her stomach that came with the realization that here, people were as likely to slow down for her as they were for poultry. How the mighty had fallen.

A jeep full of uniformed army dudes drove by. Pen waved at them. They stared at her. Not surprising, considering that today she had decided to go glittery. She was wearing shiny lavender purple pants, one red pump and one black platform shoe (almost the same height, so she only walked with a small limp), both covered in dazzles. Her shirt was bright green and glittery, and there was glitter in all of her make up, from her four colors of lipstick to the special sparkly body paint with which she had covered her face in weird, mardi-gras-ish patterns.

"Pfft. All dressed up and nowhere to go." she muttered, picking at the the zipper of her long black jacket, the only item of clothing not damaging to the retinas. Out of pure boredom and because she saw that it was close, Pen followed the jeep. She couldn't get into the farm so she loitered along the fence, waiting for an opportunity to slip in. Perhaps there was a secret military operation or a government conspiracy or something. Hell, a boot camp would at least be a novelty. Pen pulled her lighter out of one of her pockets and flicked it on and off, on and off, as she waited for her chance.

"I don't remember hiring a clown," Pasty replied. He, too, had seen the strangely dressed girl prowling the gates. Gesturing to Eagle, Pasty quickly made his way towards the gate. "Don't make eye contact and don't slow down. Clowns can smell fear," he muttered.

"Hello, Captain Pasty reporting in. I've brought a new recruit," Pasty spoke quickly to the guard at the gate. The guard looked at him lazily and slowly set about opening the gate.

Pen watched the two guys come up to the fence with curiousity and some suspicion. They didn't look any older than she was. So what were they doing in this fenced off area? Maybe they were military brats. The pale one seemed friendly enough, though she wasn't sure about his companion. She thought he had a kind of squirrely look.

Pen was through the gate almost before it had opened wide enough, though she was careful not to snag her jacket on it. "Thanks. I dun know what you guys is doin', but I'm 'bout to die of boredom or set somethin' on fire. Maybe both." She tossed the lighter into the air, caught it deftly, and deposited it back in one of her many pockets.

She executed an elegant bow. "The infamous Pen Gwin, at your service. Not infamous yet, or in with the famous, or really in on anything, but I will be, y'know. Just wait and see." She straightened and shoved her hands in her pockets. It really was true that the grass was always greener on the other side. The place just looked like a military camped on some random duck farm.

"So, what's shakin' around here?"