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WE’RE NOT GONNA TAKE IT!
”Johnny Donovan.”NO! WE’RE NOT GONNA TAKE IT!
”Johnny. Donovan. Cease and desist!”WE’RE NOT GONNA TAKE IT ANYMORE!
As Johnny Dash sat in his room, on his bed, fluffy body pillow propped against the plain wall, pushing the scarab that was latched on his spine against it, which wasn’t so much uncomfortable as it was annoying because the scarab was hissing and clicking inside JD’s head.
So to fix that, JD had the brilliant idea of blaring Twisted Sister’s best song, We’re Not Gonna Take It, as a sort of act of rebellion against it.
This was the common dance the two tangled and has been like that for almost a year now. Ever since Johnny had found the scarab, they never got along. They always fought and then argued. And yes, there’s a difference. Arguing just meant a bout of conflicting personalities, but when they fight, unlike a usual brawl, for which Johnny could win, the scarab played dirty. He’d activate the armor and take control out of spite alone. It was annoying and frustrating. And, if Johnny D was honest, it earned a tiny amount of his respect. Growing up on the streets, sometimes you had to fight dirty to survive.
But back on point.
That clicking and hissing that was mentioned before? Yeah, it was starting to ruin Johnny D’s good vibe.
“Would you stop that already? It’s a cool tune dude. Just lighten up!”
I certainly will not “lighten up”. It is outrageous how you humans can stand that unforgiving mix of sounds as relaxing.Johnny scoffed. “And you obviously don’t get the power the 80s had, man. Fucking epic hit after hit. I seriously wish I was born in the 70s so I could have experienced it as it was happening.”
Your consistency at being bothersome is frustrating, Jonathan Donovan.That would be the last thing that the scarab said, but it didn’t matter. As Johnny D was in the climax of the song, arguably the best part of it too, it was sudden, but the entire room went black. It was blacker than being inside a dumpster at night time. Johnny was used to it, so that’s why he didn’t flinch. Being homeless for so long, you grew used to rolling blackouts. The poor side of Coast City, which was where JD spent most of his days, had random blackouts all the time.
“I guess Jules is--”
AMBUSH! THE TOWER IS UNDER ATTACK!“No, it’s no--”
No it’s not is what Johnny was going to say before the scarab, like many times before, took full control. From the middle of his spine to his arms, legs, and eventually head, the Blue Beetle armor had consumed his entire body. Wrapped up in it, Johnny felt like an unwilling passenger with a chaotic driver in the middle of a road rage incident. He saw what was happening but could do nothing to stop it. Worse yet, that hissing and clicking asserted itself until Johnny was the voice in the scarab’s head.
An energy cannon took shape on his right arm and scarab pointed it at the wall.
And from inside, Johnny screamed bloody murder.
“No, you’re not going to.” Johnny heard the cannon charge up and he freaked even harder. “Don’t you fucking blast through my--”
And then a blast of blue-colored energy shot through Scarlett Johansson’s perfect face and pierced a hole straight through the wall, a breeze from the Seattle evening flowing into Johnny’s room.
And after another slow, anguishing moments that left Johnny D utterly devastated. Nevermind any world-ending hypotheticals, that poster was the first thing he bought when he joined the team a few months ago. The leftover money he had from his last day on the streets went into purchasing it. It might not have been much, but he took pride in it. And now it was ruined because this scarab thought they were attacked.
And then the lights came on. And then the armor retracted, the clicking and hissing growing less aggressive, asserting itself to its normal volume
We are safe--“You fucking dumbass!” Johnny cursed. “We weren’t in any danger. It’s called a blackout -- A BLACKOUT!”
While he was furious, he sighed out in defeat, glancing once more to the hole in the wall. In the back of his mind where the scarab hadn’t penetrated yet, he was thinking about how Jules was going to be on his ass for this. The building was run down already. Not everything was fleshed out or repaired to the point of being suitable for superheroes-to-be. And he just knew that he was going to get reprimanded. Or something that resembled punishment like he was a child.
Yeah, the only child is this thing on my back.
The clicking got louder.
“Yeah, so you heard that? You want a fucking trophy or something?”
Well, Johnny figured since his mood was shot, he’d go and maybe grab something to eat. Getting pissed at scarab always worked up an appetite. But he has to change his shirt first, because someone decided to go Mighty Morphin Power Rangers on him.
Johnny had made his way out of his room with a full wardrobe change. With a Nirvana shirt replacing the Metallica one he was wearing prior to the...incident, Johnny was confident enough to waltz proudly out of his room, proving he wasn’t a hermit like he assumed most thought he was. He made a straight a-line (not beline because that made it seem like it was his second choice) for the kitchen. Like mentioned before, when dealing with pissy on his spine, Johnny Dash needed to eat his anger away.
But maybe that would have to be put on hold because he saw his three favorite people all huddled nearby.
And of course the source of his frustrations started to click and hiss again and again.
Johnny D didn’t acknowledge him as he slinged his arm around Kevin. His regular sparring partner was a few inches shorter than him, but JD never pointed that out. No need to get this regular spitfire to all hot and bothered anymore than he always was.
“Why not just wear one of those hazmat suits, Kev?” Johnny suggested with a grin, mostly kidding, of course. “Or you could always fight in the nude. That way you don’t have to worry about burning through outfit after outfit.” That was another case of Johnny D making a funny.
Damn, Johnny Dash is freaking hilarious!
