Continued from http://www.comicvine.com/forums/fan-fic/8/dc-5th-world-order-migraine-chapter-2/656222/#8
In 2353 when the Cola War reached its climax, Earth decided to adopted one language and the resulting vote came back with English. Sure there were more Chinese/Mandarin speakers but English was an easy, borrowing language so it made sense. Every country adopted it and it spread across the galaxy via the United Planets because it was that easy, even Lobo can speak it and he was a Czarian! Well every country bar one; France! And it was in this country I’d found myself some thousand years out of time and place
Now from the Archives, France seemed to be in black and white for hundreds of years and came into colour around 1945. They rode non-hovering cycles, enjoyed eating strange now extinct creatures like the leg frog and were regarded by the world and the planet Rimbor, and I’ll quote the yellow cartoon philosopher William Groundskeeper, as “cheese eating surrender monkeys!”
The country was littered with what looked to be stadiums so being lost I thought I’d do the sensible thing and ask for directions…that was stupid! The first person I met gibbered at me in some alien language which I could only assume was French because it had lots of aw-haw-haws in it similar to Maltusian and he didn’t really look Maltusian. He waved me away so I asked a woman and she slapped me, spat in my face, kissed me then touched me very inappropriately all within five seconds. She lit up a cigarette and blew smoke in my face. I was dumbfounded. Soon I found another man after I’d recovered
“Excuse me? Do you speak English?”
“Wee”
“What?”
“Wee, yes I speak your sewer language”
“I’m lost. What year is it?”
“4052”
“Ahh really? Umm okay what country is this?”
“France” he spat upon the ground
“And which way to the Legion headquarters?”
He looked at me strangely and pointed to a large building with several armed guards out the front “I think this is what you seek?”
“Thank you”
So I flew to the building and looked at the guards who seemed a lot like the Science Police, which is a grey area for the Legion and almost depends on which day it was on whether they liked you or shot you on sight. The building looked like a police station/town hall/nightclub
“Halt!” barked the first one as he levelled his rifle at me “State your name and business”
“Whoa there big guy!” I said as I landed “I'm Kerek Sjaastad and I’m a Legionnaire”
“You’re a what?” asked the other one
“A Legionnaire, y’know from the Legion”
“State your business or fly off”
“I’m trying to you! Who’s in charge?”
“Are you telling me what to do?” he stepped forward and towered over me by a good foot, it was intimidating but I held my ground
“No, I’m simply asking who’s in charge because it seems I’m wasting my breath on…you” I trailed off as he grabbed me by the collar and lifted me up “Now this isn’t very nice is it?”
“I should cut your tongue out!” he hissed, his breath smelling like the back end of a Durlan cow-beast
“WHAT IS GOING ON HERE?” the voice boomed and I hovered on the spot. I saw a large metallic purple man with a ponytail draped over his left shoulder standing arms folded in the doorway. The soldiers had shot to attention at his 8ft tall prescence
“As I was…” I didn’t finish my sentence when he moved like lightning and backhanded me, I blacked out for a second and flew, luckily I had a flight ring otherwise I would’ve been back in the ocean. I skidded into the ground and I scrambled to my feet. I felt my face, my lips were fat, mouth bloodied and at least two teeth were chipped. That hurt! I spat blood onto the ground and looked at him, standing about eighty feet away looking smug
I cupped my hands and yelled to him “I was about to say I was attacked by your guards for no reason but then you hit me”
He crouched and leapt, landing with a thud in front of me. I gulped, this wasn’t good. I’d seen the Fatal Five’s Validus up close and personal and I’d be so much happier to see him than this purple guy, hell the ENTIRE Fatal Five seemed better than the vibe emanating from this guy!
“YOU DARE RAISE YOUR VOICE TO SAXEN?”
“Which answer would you like so I don’t get slapped?”
He looked at me quizzically “YOU WILL DO WELL IN THE ARENA”
“Thanks but no, I’m just actually lookin…”
And that is how I ended up with a semi-broken face, chained like an animal to a concrete pole in front of thirty thousand screaming French people and some smug purple so-and-so looking down on me from a large throne
“LET THE BATTLE COMMENCE!”
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