Golden Age of Heroes - Now It's Showtime!

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The date was December 22nd, 1945. The place? Los Cielos. It was a cool but not too chilly winter morning in that city of heaven, with a touch of light cloud cover spreading out the welcome sunlight rather than blocking it. It was 4 months since the war ended with Japan, and the soldiers slowly began to feel at home again.

Bundled up in her thick brown coat, the mayor of this city of heaven watched the seconds tick down on her pocket clock, waiting outside the gates of Jupiter High Fairgrounds!, the world's most dazzling amusement park, if the investors did say so themselves. Once the hands struck 11, Los Cielos Mayor Eileen Burke put on her best face and went before the crowd, standing before the microphone.

"Good morning to you all, people of Los Cielos. We have gone through many hardships these past few years together, our brave soldiers among you most of all. We have seen evil rise up across our oceans, and topple great nations. But we have also seen those great nations rise again, with our men, our heroes beside them, and we took back the world from evil and brought our fighters back home safely.

"Now, as I stand before you today, some months after our families reunited, some days before we again spend our Christmas whole, I say to you, my people of Los Cielos, the war is over! Let peace and happiness reign in its place!

"We stand gathered here today, at Jupiter High Fairgrounds, on Joviality, to embrace our joviality! To celebrate our return to peace! Our return to safety! The return of our fathers, our brothers, our sons- our husbands-" a light chuckle from the audience- "to the land which they fought to protect! I, Eileen Burke, mayor of Los Cielos, cut this ribbon to the park so we might celebrate our freedoms well earned!"

Snip

And with applause and cheers, Miss Burke quickly moved out of the way from the sudden rush of people spilling into the amusement park. One woman, in unusual multicolored clothing, flowed in with, face covered by the park map, hands covered in gloves.

"Hmm, what to check out first," Vy wondered...

Fairground: Cafe

I'll admit that this is an interesting change from the statues and war monuments. Nikolai thought to himself as he adjusted the rucksack at his feet. He wore a shirt, sturdy pants and a A-2 flight jacket. A flat cap obscured his eyes from view and he had a grey scarf wrapped around his neck. Although I still don't understand the appeal of these...rides. He added, watching a group of children dashing towards the roller-coaster.

Probably just a human thing. He thought with a minute eye roll, before noticing that there was a waitress next to him. "Hm? Excuse me..." Nico spoke with a slight Russian accent, which had an curious effect coupled with his monotone. "An...Italian Beef sandwich, please."

"Certainly sir. And what sort drink would you like?" The waitress asked.

...I don't see any alcohol on the menu. Niko felt a little disappointed by that, although his actual expression didn't change. Oh well, he had salvaged some useful tech on Possibility earlier this morning, so he could afford to drop by one of Calzaretta's bars if he was running low on fuel. "Black coffee will do, thank you."

As the waitress left, Niko took out a plain manila folder from his rucksack and opened, beginning to read through the documents inside.

edited 1st Jul '15 12:04:51 AM by svenorzokarkoff

DISREGARD

edited 1st Jul '15 7:38:26 PM by SolusLupus

Fairgrounds tower.

Silas watched over the grand opening with a smile under his mask. Everyone was out and having a good time, this was a wise investment.

His headset buzzed, "Hello?"

"Hey Silas. Still sorry I couldn't make it but there was a lot of paperwork back at the-" it was Mari, Silas sighed and let out a laugh.

"It's alright. Running a company is never easy. Hey, when we have some free time. I'll take you out here," Silas responded.

Fairgrounds: Near Game Booths.

Ashley Baker walks through the fairgrounds with no clear destination in mind. She idly licks an ice cream cone as she avoids groups of running children. Despite spectacle around her she wore an irritated expression on her face. That was probably why people were giving her a wide berth. She had meant to unwind by coming here, but she still felt an itch of restlessness beneath her skin. With a sigh she turned toward some of the games. Maybe those would help.

edited 1st Jul '15 7:56:13 AM by Elyzian

Goldstein First National

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Elsewhere, away from the Fairgrounds and on the island of Civility, trouble was stirring at the great city's first great bank. A small colorful rainbow ball bounced into the bank through the front doors as customers and clerks went about their day. It popped suddenly, spraying out a small pile of streamers and confetti, with a slightly airhorn sound. It distracted people, and they stared, but it didn't seem like that big of a deal. Then suddenly, a huge flash and a BANG filled with bank, temporary blinding everyone. As they all screamed, smoke bombs went off, and a few men with guns and body armor, dressed up like party animals ran in and began to secure the situation. They pointed their guns at everyone, screaming.

"GET ON THE GROUND. GET ON THE FUCKING GROUND NOW."

They tied everyone up, holding them, a few of them men began to go towards the back levels of the bank, taking two clerks to get them into the vaults. That's when she showed up. The Cartoon Criminal. The Animated Assassin. The Harebrained Hooligan. She strutted into the bank, grinning with her bright sharp teeth, scoping out the bank. The civilians held hostage gasped. She hadn't been around for too long, only about a week. There will still plenty of people who thought she was a myth, or just in an elaborate costume. But this cartoon character was all too real. She laughed, yelling out at her goons, in her distinct Harley Quinn voice.

"Heeeere's Betty! If ya know what's good for ya, you'll stay on the ground where ya belong! I don't want any funny business, 'cept from me! And just so ya know I mean business..."

She walked over to the nearest civilian that was tied up, got right in their face, and pulled out her gun, pointing it between their nose. They begged for mercy, screaming out. "Ya wanna know my favorite four-letter word?" She pulled the trigger, and with a little pop, a flag sprang out with the word BANG! on it. Betty started laughing, and the civilian looked terrified. "Looks like we got a wetter, boys!" For real this time, she shot the civilian in the head.

"Now, get those explosives set 'fore I get an ulcer!"

edited 10th Jul '15 3:17:41 PM by Saturn

Civility Island, Opening of the third Los Cielos Bobby Beef's branch Block Next To Goldstein National Bank

"So that'll be 2 Large Bobby Beefs, with 2 Farmer's Fave-sized sides of Big Cheesy Wedges, and the Sweetbomb Choco-Banana-Go Shake to go?"

"You bet!"

"... That'll be $7.95."

Thanks to advances in fast food preparation, the order was there in less than 3 minutes (record time!). Shirley o'Brien, counter girl of two weeks, could not help but stare as she handed the plain-looking man in the tan suit a paper bag bulging with fried beef, cheese, and grease.

That much junk in the morning'd kill anyone. But as part of the fast food joint's morning shift and still dozy with sleep, Shirley didn't give him much thought. As she rubbed at her eyes and watched her latest costumer leave the premises, the radio buzzed with the latest breaking scoop about a bank robbery.

"That's the Goldstein," murmured Eddy, her partner at the counter. "It's just somewhere behind us!" In the distance, just barely audible above the piped-in jingle, both could hear faint sirens.

Shirley could only yawn. "At least someone'll get a day off. Though I'd hate to be the poor sap working the teller in a town like this when a bank job comes a-knockin'. Who knows which super-powered loonie it'd be?"

"More'n that," Eddy began as a pack of early-shift construction workers came in. "I wonder if any of our Boys are on the way?"

There was an inflection in Eddy's voice that Shirley caught. She knew precisely who he was talking about.

edited 1st Jul '15 9:55:35 AM by KR_Vandal

Bank Robbery

Gian casually kicked a civilian in the head and sighed. Then winced. Their teeth chipped the leather on his shoe, and he got a little blood on his cuff. Darn. Betty's heists were never quiet or subtle. Cops would be on them in an instant, and all his gear was in the car outside. Dressed in a nice black suit with a bandit's mask and a kevlar vest, Gian felt like a shallow imitation of who he was supposed to be—a supervillain masquerading as a thug, forced into bulky suits to hide the armature that gave him his powers. The gorilla mask didn't help. He knew he was a shaved ape to these people, he didn't need the reminder! At least it was well designed; he could see out the front pretty well.

"Got your bomb right here, ma'am." He said flatly, pulling a bundle of dynamite out of his pocket. He vaulted the teller counter and walked into the backroom, carrying his tommygun loosely at his side. "You know what'd be fun? Maybe we should go to the fair afterwards. Spend some of this cash, you know?"

He let the tommygun hang at his side from the strap and pulled out his lighter, got the dynamite slowly sizzling down. He pocketed the lighter and hefted up his gun, then set the bomb in front of the vault door. "Clear out. Unless you're into that sort of thing." He took cover behind the teller counter with an eye on the door, gun at the ready as the shockwave rocked into him. "Okay okay okay, get that shit out of there. We're on the clock."

edited 1st Jul '15 10:24:05 AM by Taco

Elsewhere in Civility, Museum of Abraham Lincoln

Considering the circumstances, you wouldn't expect to see a SS uniform in the middle of American city meant to be the beacon for the future unless as some sort of museum exhibition. The one wearing it would surely be a villain.

Such was the case today.

The Museum of Abraham Lincoln housed many exhibits from Ancient Egypt and the civilizations before, boasting the largest collection of these in the US. Though to most criminals these were mere baubles that were hard to sell at best and outright useless in value at worst, some considered them well worth the risk of declaring war upon Los Cielos and its law enforcement.

And such was Hetep-heres.

Now "disguised" as an Obersturmbannführer Hilde von Heinz - a runaway SS officer who decided to carry out Hitler's insane ideas in hiding on enemy's soil, up until now - she examined the golden mask of Tutankhamun, supposedly a well-known pharaoh long after her time, associated with some curse of sorts. Hetep-heres could only scoff at the idea: from what she could see from the very mask alone, he was unbefitting to cast even a basic hex, let alone something that could kill from beyond the grave and so long after his tomb has been desecrated.

Regardless, it would prove useful to her ends. The undead warlock queen glanced upon the custodian she had killed a moment ago, now reanimated as an obedient zombie to carry the most important of exhibits out of the museum himself. The irony amused her plenty.

"We are moving out, gentlemen. Schnell." She addressed her entourage, the walking dead made out of museum security now carrying out knowledge in form of various other exhibits and the two bodyguards of hers, mindless corpses dressed like heavily-armored SS Stormtroopers albeit much-proficient with their firearms. The costumes and the spectacle were perfect, really, right down to the over-the-top Bavarian accent used in Allied propaganda to depict an average Nazi.

The world was not yet ready for Hetep-heres' reveal. No, for now she would play the game and fool those who think themselves clever. Only after she decided to cut the drama short would she reveal her fabulous presence.

The entourage made its way out. The giant van was waiting already, just for the hapless to load it full of priceless exhibits. A riding crop in hand, Hetep-heres waited. The sheer amount of the dead ensured that her true skin color would not reveal itself for a while and keep the spectacle in the air.

Pistol, Check. Smokes, check. Dog treats...nah, probably not today. In the chill of that morning, Wyatt felt that his costume was more useful than ever. He'd worry sometimes that in a few months he'd have to see about a lighter-weight outfit for the summer, but today it would work better than any other day.

He had picked up something big on the police band while eating his breakfast. Not just a mugging, not the usual domestic disturbance, but a bank robbery. A bank robbery! Something loud, something sensational, something public! For a few days now, doing his work busting low-level thugs during the night hadn't scratched that itch he had. He wanted something better, something that would gain him recognition. He'd set his sights on becoming one of those big-name heroes. So, the Silver Light stuffed himself inside his suit as fast as he could, got on the old Schwinn and started pedaling as fast as he could while wearing a trenchcoat.

He'd already made up a perfect, infallible plan in his mind. He'd scout out the place real quick to see how many losers he'd have to knock over, shift in through the wall, drop in a smoke grenade, and probably just use the element of surprise to cap them in the legs (I mean, it's not like they're gonna need them in the Big House, right?). Then, he'd grab their guns, drop them on the ground mid shift, and bam! Now they're subdued, the smoke clears and he's standing there for all to see as their rightful savior. It was a wonderful, spectacular, sensational plan.

Even as he got awkward stares from the occasional passerby, the promise of glory pushed him to pedal even faster. Panting and sweating underneath his clothes, he reached the alleyway entrance of Goldstein. He was ensuring that nothing had fallen out of his pockets when he had heard a loud thump. That meant that they had to be blowing the vault open already, or that some other super had beaten him to the punch! He wasn't late, but he had to act fast. No thinking. No planning, just reflex. It had worked before. He tensed his muscles, drew his pistol, ran at the wall and shifted. Before his head hit the brick, he simply disappeared.

He'd figured out a while ago that he was getting sent to other places. Timelines, or alien worlds or something. He got a brief glimpse of the scenery around him. Endless wheat fields, drenched by two suns in the same sky. Five seconds passed, and the fields disappeared.

Before he could get a proper view of where he'd shifted into, he'd reflexively took the pistol, aimed it at the head of first person he saw and shouted "FREEZE, DIRTBAG" at the top of his lungs. Now that he had time to look, he did. His target was an imposing-looking man putting on his most dapper gorilla impersonation carrying a Typewriter in his hand. Accompanying him were a good amount of fruitier-looking gorillamen and a cardboard cutout of some cartoon broad...that was moving.

He wasn't planning on this.

edited 1st Jul '15 2:12:54 PM by wikkit

Silas relaxed for a moment until his headset went off, "Hey Mr. Grant," "Yes Mari?" "Police Radios are going off. Attack at the first national... and a robbery at the Abraham Museum."

Silas sighed and climbed down from the tower and entered a small truck, his Cobalt Reaper armor awaiting him in it.

He exited not too long after and took of to the sky flying towards the first national. Bigger target at the moment, apparently a lot of people, bulletproof advanced robot armor would help.

Fairground Cafe

Niko took a bite from the sandwich, mulling over the file's contents as he chewed. The information that the broker had given him was both relieving and mildly frustrating.

So Anya is alive and well, but...she's always on the move. Never staying in one place for very long. Niko thought, eyes narrowing slightly in frustration. Is she on the run? But from who? For every answer he received, two more questions seemed to pop up.

The Android finished his meal and paid the bill before he grabbed his bag and left the cafe. Still lost in his thoughts, Niko didn't notice the redheaded lady in his path until he walked right into her.

edited 1st Jul '15 12:45:39 PM by svenorzokarkoff

Abraham Lincoln Museum-Basement

Johnathan looked about the room at the teenagers who were scattered about the room with silver knives in their hands. He let out a long sigh before speaking. "So let's review this situation we find ourselves in: Ya lured me out here on the premise of searching for your missing friend, ya want to kill me so someone will come make you vampires as a reward...even though the vampire population at large doesn't give a damn, you locked the door with chains I can break easily and you're about to attack me with silver knives only I'm not weak to silver so all you've really done is brings knives to a super fight."

The glanced at each other nervously. One of the braver ones spoke up: "You make it sound like we're idiots when you say it like that."

The psuedovampire shrugged "I'm just reporting the facts. You can't even accuse me of attacking you since my fingerprints aren't on anything here." This was true as his hands had yet to leave his pockets. Before they could get a word in he dashed past them and broke the chain on the entrance with the side of his hand and quickly exited. Idiots, I'll report them later, don't want them to hurt anyone else, besides, jail will be good for them. John walked on pleased with himself until he saw a large van being loaded with artifacts out front. Why do I doubt these people are a traveling exhibit.

The PI sauntered towards danger, not having spotted his old foe yet.

Civility, near the Abraham Lincoln Museum

Addisu wheeled himself down the oddly deserted sidewalk. He'd heard about a new fairground opening in Joviality, and since he still had a sick day left to use, he called in to work faking a cold and had set off to Joviality dressed in his favorite shirt (an eye-watering yellow t-shirt), only to find that the bridge between it and Equity was closed for repairs; some supervillain or other had taken a chunk out yesterday, and they were in the process of replacing it. Admittedly, this made him have to take the long way around, but it probably wouldn't be boring.

At least, it shouldn't have been. But going through the island now, it was nearly deserted. I guess everyone's at the fairground, he thought. Turning the corner to the Abe Lincoln Museum, he saw something incredibly alarming; a Nazi officer and a bunch of SS goons, stealing from the museum! Addisu quickly wheeled back behind the corner and tried to work out a plan. Let's see... One officer, squad of goons... Big white van that they're loading things into, but I don't want to break anything, otherwise I'll be paying for it all. Hmm. After several more seconds of thinking, an idea formed in his mind. Peering around the corner and concentrating on the car, he jerked it backwards to shake out any artifacts, then tried to slam it into the entourage of Nazis.

Things Getting Interesting

Hepet-heres did not get to enjoy a peaceful robb-pardon, taking what rightfully belonged to her. In a moment, the van moved outside of driver's ability and rode backwards, the priceless exhibits spilling out and the machine itself running a few of the zombie carriers over. Of course, such damage, while extensive, wasn't enough to put an end to an undead, no matter how petty, but it would take a moment getting them back in shape... plus, a number of frailer exhibits were lost regardless when the dead dropped them.

She herself and her bodyguards had more luck. Well, they just jumped out of the way. She? She stopped the van in place as her hand dug into steel with no difficulty at all, holding it firmly. Gone was the smug expression of superiority. No, the undead queen was annoyed.

And to make matters worse, she had felt an all-too familiar presence. A presence she hoped that would cross her not for a second time. Her annoyance twisted into anger, her masterplan ruined by this interference as her mask of a collected Nazi officer dropped for a moment. That would be a good moment to take a deep breath if she still could.

"I want that interfering maggot here." She spatted out a command. The two stormtroopers nodded in silence before embarking to search for one daring enough to get in her way. Assault rifles primed and ready to fire, the rain of lead would be unleashed against anyone who looked even remotely suspicious and remained in the vicinity. One trooper remained by the van to keep the carriers and exhibits as Hepet-heres took a metaphorical deep breath and assumed her mask again, turning to face the approaching Johnathan, pointing a crop at him. "Halt!" She barked a command at him. "What kind of creature approaches Obersturmbannführer von Heinz?" The thick accent down pat, she could only hope he would not recognize her true form. Otherwise, she would probably have to go out of her way and kill him which, all things considering, would derail her plans a lot.

edited 1st Jul '15 12:58:56 PM by FergardStratoavis

Aw, hell, it's her again.

John stopped walking forward and began slowly circling at the first sight of her. Okay, I look human right now, I was all vamped out last time, maybe she doesn't realize it's me yet. I hope not because right now I'm out numbered, even if her zombies are idiots.

"Johnathan Drescher, private detective. Speaking of which, I detect that this all doesn't belong to you, figures, Nazis always were tomb-robbers, nice to see some thing don't change." The detective kept talking, subtly sliding his hand towards his gun. "Though I must admit I can't say I'm pleased to see one of you still walking around and not in a tomb. And on my own homeland no less. Granny Dorothy would spit." Just another inch...won't kill her but a bullet in the brain still hurts I wager.

edited 1st Jul '15 2:08:24 PM by guyshane

The undead queen scoffed. He saw through her guise, but not completely. Honestly, she could not remember how did she look back then.

"I like travelling." She replied flatly, eyeing his hand slowly reaching out for his gun. A mere trinket like this wouldn't kill her, but a bullet to the head would be most distracting. She could probably use the riding crop, coupled with her magic to block or soften the blow, but that would be up to her reflexes. "I do not, however, suffer fools gladly; particularly ones who think I am a petty robber." The mask of her true self cracked a little. Although still posing as Miss Von Heinz, her mannerisms slowly shuffled towards her usual haughty self.

Modernity-Medical Research Facility

Lucid stepped out of the shadows of the high rise building, looking up at her target for today. She normally wouldn't have the guts to try a break in while the sun was still up, but she was running low on supplies and her roommate was at home last night, preventing her from leaving then.

She'd just have to be more careful this time. After taking a steadying breath, she closed her eyes in concentration. The visor on her dark helmet lit up a purple color, and her shadow seemed to expand into a far larger, bestial shape.

The shadow moved towards a window, and reared back with one arm before smashing a clawed fist through it. Alarms blared as the desk workers looked up to see what had happened, and the invisible creature stepped through, breaking a table under its weight. Lucid stepped through the window after it and gave it a simple mental command.

Clear the room. She heard the screams as the beast started rampaging. To any one who entered, it would seem like a strange force was tearing the room apart and knocking people down.

Goldstein First National

"Shit! Super! Teleporter, I think!" Gian ducked behind the teller counter, then popped back up and returned fire with the Typewriter, a few controlled rattles towards the guy. "I say you freeze, dirtbag! This was just an honest bank robbery, nobody hurting nobody that didn't deserve it! You can still back out of this!" He circled to the left side of the teller counter, away from the back room, still continuing to harass him with little burps of gunfire.

Stanley kept watch atop a nearby building, box of brushes and inks in his lap. A blank book sat on a card table next to him, waiting for his touch. Neo-nazi with zombies, stealing shit. He reached for another object on the card-table—a hands-free binocular scope to strap over one eye, courtesy of good old Silas Grant. Just in time to see the truck go backwards and spill all its shit in really good high-definition. Zombies were armed, not a good sign. Stanley grabbed his pencil and scanned around the street, looking for that leader again. Posturing with someone else. He couldn't read lips; really needed to learn that. Now came the hard part. Now that he'd gotten a good look at the robber he could get a comic built around them, but in order to do that he'd have to divert all attention away from the street. He unstrapped the monocle, wiped a bead of nervous sweat off his forehead, and started drawing up the cover for Startling Tales Issue 22: Hexenheister!

edited 1st Jul '15 4:45:48 PM by Taco

Johnathan chuckled. "Well, Dame. You're certainly robbing a place, and you ain't a high class women. You saying I should treat you as something other than what you are?" He slid back half a step towards the entrance and more importantly towards the shadows of the interior.

The Bank

Betty grinned. "I'll go for the cash and we can blow this Popsicle stand!"

Then the super showed up. Great. Betty saw all the heroes as her personal Elmer Fudd's and Yosemite Sam's, just trying to ruin her good time. "Look at this lightweight, trying to muscle in on our action. Take care of him, kid! Nothing but ashes!"

She started walking in the other direction, down towards the vault, clutching her pistol in her hand.

edited 1st Jul '15 5:59:01 PM by Saturn

A loud thud and a clang was heard outside, followed by the sound of electric motors.

"Whoever is in there... you better just surrender now. This is not worth the time at all."

In walked the Cobalt Reaper.

Fairgrounds: The Game Booths.

"You feckless son of a bitch!" Perhaps carnival games were a bad choice for Ashley. After a number of crooked games and events, Ashley's temper was at the breaking point. Unfortunately the only person close enough for her to vent to was a thin, acne-ridden teenager who looked as though he was about to faint in panic.

Ashley hands were clenched into fists as she leaned over the counter, "I hit that thing. You know I hit it! Is there a single game in this place that isn't rigged?!"

The teenager raised his hands shakily, "I-I..."

"Of course they are! Now listen you, I-" Before Ashley could finish her tirade, an urgent sounding voice crackled over the booth's radio, "Attention! This is an emergency announcement! There appears to be superhuman activity taking place at Goldstein First National Bank in Civility. Casualties are expected."

Outwardly, Ashley pulled an expression somewhere between disgust and disinterest. Inwardly however, Ashley was grinning from ear to metaphorical ear. She had had a stressful while, and someone was going to pay for those rigged carnival games. She walked away from the relieved teen, and entered a vacant tent. Moments later she emerged from the back as Sonicwoman. She took a couple of moments to concentrate and shot off in the direction of Civility.

"Look out trouble, here I come."

Ducking for cover near a very solid-looking pillar, Wyatt couldn't come up with a better answer than "Yeah, well you can still back out of this, asshole!" He reached into his outer breast pocket with his free hand to grab a smoke grenade, but his worst fears were realized as it had fallen out of his pocket during the ride over. Not only was he out of cover, some kid would probably get themselves burned with the damn thing!

He was sure that he wouldn't be able to shift far enough to get out of here, he'd have to expose himself to multiple people firing at close range in order to get enough speed for a running start.

Just as he was starting to waver and quake in his boots, especially with bullets getting closer and closer to hitting his limbs, help came fast enough. He certainly recognized Cobalt, he was one of the popular supers he was trying to emulate (and surpass). He quickly realized how suspicious he looked and shouted over the gunfire, "Hey, help me with the monkey men here! They're your targets!"

"Uh..." Gian whined nervously. He realized brute force wasn't going to win this, with or without Betty and with or without his gear. But his gear never made him that much stronger; just allowed for multitasking. If he was going to be a good career criminal, he'd have to be able to adapt to any situation. "Be right back. We have negotiations to handle." Keeping a low profile, Gian sprinted into the backroom and snagged a screaming teller.

Armed with confidence and a new bargaining chip, Gian strode out standing up proudly, hostage held in front of himself and his gun pressed to the small of her back. "Alright, now that we've got something to fuss over we can have a civil conversation. We took these hostages for a reason. Let us go and they all live. Hell, don't even answer that, lemme sweeten this deal, how about you just let us get to the van before you pursue us, yeah? Otherwise..." He gestured to the few civilians still in the lobby, tied up on the floor, and to the three civilians behind the counter, also tied up. "Otherwise I stop shooting at youse guys, and look fer better targets, capisce?"