Season XI Week 1: House Elves vs. Ahsoka's Acrobatic Assassins

The House Elves are: Superman, Everest from Paw Patrol, and White Walkers #1-6.

The Assassins are: Brainiac in his Skull Ship, Red Lantern Jeff Houslander, White Lantern Zach Houslander, Stan Lee, and Zombies #3-7.

Superman and Everest were hanging out at the Fortress of Solitude, minding their own business and eating delicious clam chowder out of a 10 gallon hat. In the background, six White Walkers were having a break dancing competition, getting totally funky as they're known to do. "Mmm, this sure is a hearty chowder" said Superman. "Bark or whatever" said Everest. Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. "Yes, hello, who's there?"

"Hey guys, it's us, the Assassins. We're here to kill you on your own turf, can we come in?"

"Well sure, I guess, but I don't think you guys will be able to kill me, especially not here, in my Fortress of Solitude."

The door swings open and White Lantern Zach comes bursting in, plowing through the White Walkers who were just trying to enjoy their hip-hop breaks.

"Oh come on now that wasn't a nice thing to do, they hadn't even started yet." Superman wagged a finger in disapproval as Red Lantern Jeff rushed him, only to fatally collide with Superman's outstretched fist.

Braniac's Skull Ship ripped the roof off the fortress, and his booming voice echoed off the slick walls. "Hey Superman it's me, Braniac, I know the rest of my team was no match but I've got just the thing to beat you!"

"Is it those missiles with the red sun radiation mentioned in the wiki? Because you already did that once, I'm obviously not going to fall for it again."

"Well... actually, yes it was the missiles. Wait, wait, what do you mean 'mentioned in the wiki'? Isn't that a little... meta?"

"Hm... you know what, that's a good point. I had a suspicion that things were amiss when I was eating soup from a hat with a dog. This just about confirms it, I'm gonna go do some investigative journalism."

Superman runs to his in-house phonebooth and changes in to his Clark Kent disguise before flying off to my office. He arrived at the shack and walked up to the door, embellished with a rough piece of half-inch ply reading "Daveatu's Fortress of Ineptitude." He knocked gently and politely. No response. A second time he knocked, this time in a fun rhythmic pattern. Still nothing. He tried knocking a bit harder, but his super strength was too much for the sloppy craftsmanship of the entrance, and the hinges fell right out of the wall.

"Uh- how unexpected! My normal human strength has accidentally dislodged this faulty door! I'll just... proceed inside, then."

Clark walked through the empty foyer and followed a muffled clicking sound to a room full of writers. Well, technically, a room full of chimpanzees chained to typewriters. Furiously they smashed at the keys, seemingly unaware of Superman's presence. When one would slow down and become distracted, a burst of white powder would spray from their typewriter, stimulating them back up to speed in a flash. Warily he proceeded to the back of the room, to a small door labeled "Big Boss Man".

After his last knocking mishap, I swung the door open before he could wreck it. I was wearing a rubber clown nose. "Yeah, come in. Need something?"

"Yes, hello. My name is Clark Kent, I'm a reporter for the Daily Planet. You're Daveatu the Watcher, correct?"

"No, see the nose? I'm The Jokey Man, hoo-hoo-ha."

"Is... something wrong?"

"Yeah, yeah, do me a quick favor Clark. Could you take off your glasses?"

He froze for just a moment, nodded, and removed his spectacles. I faked a gasp.

"Oh my god, wait a minute, you're Superman! Oh man, whoa! What a huge unexpected twist, I never would have guessed through your amazing disguise. I just assumed all journalists were built like semi-trucks. So, why are you here? Actually, before you answer that, just kidding. I brought you here. I'm writing this, right now even. And you know that, because that's also what I'm writing. I'm like Mr. Mxyzptlk but somehow even shorter, I can do whatever."

"Alright, then why AM I here?"

"Well, I mean, you're Superman right? The setting is your Fortress of Solitude. You already won, what was I gonna do, just write down the single line 'The Assassins showed up and Superman boffed them all to death at lightspeed with his mighty meat dong'? Well I'd look like a fool then, wouldn't I?" I honked my rubber nose.

"Well of course that wouldn't look too interesting on paper, but come on, you never know what could happen. Braniac is pretty resourceful right? And there were a couple Lanterns, you of all people know not to underestimate the Lantern Corps."

"Yeah, Braniac is great, but here's the thing: You are the instant win. Yeah, sometimes you die, sometimes in pretty goofy ways! But on average, you're the trump card, especially with homefield advantage."

Superman looked puzzled, some combination of flattered and indignant. "But there are plenty of other character who can match my strength. Even some who exceed it! I may be iconic but I'm not omnipotent."

"You know what, good point, very good point. Let me find a very good rebuttal." I shuffled through the cluttered mess of loose files and papers on my desk. "Oh, here, this will do. Check this out." I summoned Saitama from One-Punch Man to my office. His blank expression had only a hint of curiosity at this unexpected teleportation. Before he could ask, I flicked a finger to fling him toward Superman. He burst into a fine mist on contact.

"What have you done?! Who was that poor man, how could you do this?"

"Oh that was One-Punch Man. You know why they call him that? He can defeat just about any enemy in a single punch. Just about, not always, but you'd think somebody that strong could at least hold their own against you, right?"

"Not if you write him in and pop him like a grape in an instant!"

"Exactly my point, Kal. See, you little green army men are all assigned point values. You're pretty high, friend, pretty high indeed. That guy? Not even close. He's barely worth more than two Ron Popeils."

"Why? This doesn't make sense." He said in pre-determined agreement.

"Well obviously because he doesn't come with enough nostalgia. He's new, who's got time to give consideration to new things? Hey, here's one you actually might know." I honked my nose again and summoned 'The Batman Who Laughs' off my roster. Batman, in a rainbow wig and big floppy shoes, fell to the floor cackling hysterically.

"Is that Batman? What have you done to him?!"

"No, this is 'The Batman Who Laughs'. Sound familiar?"

"What? No, Earth-22's Bruce is locked in the dungeon at the Hall of Justice. Is this a joke?"

"Ha! Hey, sure looks that way doesn't it? No, no, this isn't the Batman Who Laughs of the DC universe! This one is from the '?' universe! I dunno, this guy must have been the first result when you Google 'The Batman Who Laughs.' C'est la vie." I shriveled the Batclown like a raisin and popped him in my mouth. Tasted funny. "It gets even better though, what if I decided I DON'T want you to be the end-all be-all of the match?"

"Alright, what if?"

I clapped my hands together and the band Ween appeared in a circle around the Man of Steel. Dean Ween, sweating profusely, gazed around the room with pupils the size of hubcaps. "Holy s*** man, there's no way this was acid. This is too f***ing much dude."

"Nah guys, it's acid, really good acid. I'm your spirit guide, an emissary of Boognish. He said you gotta beat Superman's ass to achieve enlightenment or whatever. Go on, do it."

Superman arched his brow. "No offense, but how would some D-list band stand a chance against- Oh, ow, oh God! Their musical instruments are so strong, why does this hurt so bad?" The band tore Superman apart in an animal frenzy, leaving a smashed pile of meat and bones before I sent them Back to Basom. "It's rewind time" I said with yet another honk of my nose, and Superman reformed into his un-smashed glory.

"Do you see the point I'm making here, Supes? We have the power, there are no rules, and we just pick whichever team we want to win for whatever reason. If you don't like it you can rip me a new one in the comments section below. Now go kill the robot octopus and the dude with the white power."

"Yes sir, Daveatu sir", Superman said like a good cardboard cutout.