[color=gold][b][u]Super Wolf Pack[/u][/b][/color] ----------------------- Galaxy Wolf speaking; if you don’t know who I am, I am Dark Wolf’s cousin. I cannot say more than that, however, because the world he and I come from is forbidden knowledge, and the D-19 (that’s Zanta’s organization) and its members have forbidden the universe from discovering anything about it. This is done in order to protect all wolves from the home planet and all secrets about it. The only things you are allowed to know is that you could easily mistake us wolves for Forsythians, since we did everything on our paws. However, we didn’t have just black wolves on the planet (and my cousin and I are black wolves); we had wolves of all colors. Our home, however, was not a part of the Forsythe System. (Our real names will never be revealed for the same reasons, so do not ask or attempt to figure it out, or there will be consequences.) In spite of the fact my cousin’s name is Dark Wolf, he doesn’t have a status of being a supervillain or even an anti-hero. He’s Dark Wolf because he can manipulate the shadows of living beings, and more importantly, he can hide in them until the proper moment. He often appears intimidating because of his fierce appearance as a black wolf with yellow eyes, but he never means to be intimidating to anybody but the enemy. Coincidentally, I also have yellow eyes, but my appearance isn’t anywhere near as intimidating as his is. Still, trust me, folks; you don’t want to get on our bad side. How my cousin got himself a fancy castle in the middle of Wildcat City, I will never know, but it proudly doubles as the G-52 HQ (the underground part, anyway). No tourists allowed, however. You can see it from the outside, but not the inside. This also protects the G-52 HQ from unwanted tourists, criminals, or supervillains. The rare exceptions are Bendraqi (because he rehabilitated and is now working for the forces of good, although his history disqualifies him from ever becoming an actual G-52; the G-52s have no humans that serve as actual G-52s as a result), and anybody whom Super C (with help from the C.I.D.F.) says is clear to enter. The second case comes from times where the C.I.D.F. discover a new individual that got superpowers as a result of what CNG did to them, and because their policy is that they tell Super C everything (because he is also Caticonian), he has the final say as to who enters and who doesn’t. If anybody does enter, they have to allow the C.I.D.F. to use a memory-wiping device on them so that they don’t give away any secrets. (This is if they don’t become an ally to the G-52s; if they do, they may return as they see fit.) The only other thing you are allowed to know about me is that I was the wealthiest wolf from our planet, which means I am richer than the richest of Forsythians, His Exalted Highness, King Ross II (also known as Regal Rat); my net worth has been calculated at USD$50 billion if you round it off, whereas his is just approximately USD$32.8 billion. However, it’s not how much money you have; it’s what you do with it that counts, and he and I both do quite a lot of philanthropy. We share Cripto’s philosophy on that; money only ever brought us happiness when we give it all away. -------------------- Okay; now that we’ve got that out of the way, I can go on to where I am going with this journal entry. Although the G-52s are an incredibly large and diverse group of superheroes, most of the time our work gets done most effectively when we split into smaller sub-groups. A G-52 can be in more than one sub-group, and sometimes sub-groups can be expanded or shrunk as necessary, depending on which one somebody decides to trust. We don’t really use these sub-group names as much, but they are still there for historical purposes. For example, Warwolf, Firefox, and Captain C make up the “Thrilling Three,” three of the United Kingdom’s finest defends this day and age has seen, while here in the States, we have T2, Crush, and Cripto, who make up the “Triple Threat.” All the female G-52s are collectively known as the “Fabulous Fighting Females,” even though there may be more sub-groups to be discovered. Super C himself doesn’t really belong to any sub-groups because he is the commanding officer, but that doesn’t mean he does everything solo. He believes in the power of teamwork, and depending on the mission, he’ll say, “Okay; you two do this, and you three do that; I’ll go along with you.” That sort of thing. ------------- The names “Fantastic Four” and “Fabulous Four” were already taken, and so the “Thrilling Three” couldn’t figure out what to call themselves when Anglo Wolf was recruited. However, we did add him to the newest sub-group we had created. When you combine the powers and abilities of him, Warwolf, Dark Wolf, and me, we become the Super Wolf Pack. Two wolves from the US, and two from the UK. What more could one ask for? It’s the perfect balance. ------------ Today, the four of us found ourselves in action when a few citizens of the UK called us to report suspicious behavior erupting in the city of Southampton, England. Dark Wolf and I cannot fly like Anglo Wolf and Warwolf can, but because my cousin is a percussionist, and because CNG gave all musicians in the G-52s (regardless of genre) the same powers, he was able to summon portals so that we could jump on through, and when we arrived, we found ourselves in our battle uniforms. “Ooh; shiny!” one woman said when the two of us arrived, noticing my glitzy battle uniform of silver and gold. (She knew it was me because she was the one that called me.) “How it sparkles and shines!” “Yes, thank you,” I said. “However, I didn’t come here for a personal appearance. I came on business. I hear there is suspicious behavior going on here in Southampton.” “Oh, right. I’m sorry.” The woman paused to clear her throat. “Okay. Do you remember when you had that fan mail crisis going?” “Yes; why? Are there people still writing letters?” “And I thought we were done with this,” Dark Wolf added. “If there are,” the woman replied, “then you haven’t gotten them in the post yet. But I called you two because I know you can hide in the shadows.” “I can,” said Dark Wolf. “I’ve always said one should look to the shadows to find the light of justice. Tell me, however; what does the fan mail crisis have to do with it? We had those angry mobsters already surrounding the White House, and we got them all in prison already.” “How’d you do that?” “We put the big dome up and waited until they were out of breath. It had to be God’s divine intervention; they all got laryngitis and they haven’t got their voices back.” “Wow.” Another civilian (a white tiger) stepped forward and introduced himself as a reporter for UTV News; UTV is a regional part of ITV that represents Northern Ireland, playing ITV programs for those people. It bothered us ever so slightly because the press was there; however, the press was on our side in this case. “I take it you don’t like paparazzi, then?” he said. “Correct,” I said. “They were always bugging us to death. These folks were trying to start their own tabloids because they were furious at their previous employers, also tabloids, for suddenly going out of business when Leo the Patriotic Lion was elected POTUS (President of the United States).” “How did Leo react?” the reporter asked me. “He thinks they did it for nothing. He didn’t see a reason for them to go out of business.” “I see. Well, I guess I haven’t introduced myself yet.” The white tiger adjusted his hat so he could see better, since it was raining. “There we are. I’m Ivan Brackus; I am a road reporter for ITV, specifically for UTV.” “Oh, really? Where is that? I guess I am not familiar with anything to do with broadcasting in this country unless it is the BBC.” “That’s understandable. The BBC has been around the longest. ITV is commercial broadcasting, not public broadcasting. UTV once was known as Ulster Television, and so I come from Northern Ireland. And yes, I was alive during our period known as the Troubles. Obviously the AIRAF are causing troubles of their own, but I don’t think that is the case here.” “So what seems to be the problem, then?” “The same problem the US is having; a ton of our tabloid newspapers and magazines are also suddenly announcing they are going out of business, simply because our Prime Minister is now Sir Lionus Claudius, GBE, also known as Lionus the Chivalric Lion. The main difference is that they aren’t afraid of him; they’re afraid of his horse.” “Could that be a coincidence?” I thought aloud. “When Canada put Levi the Mountee Lion in office, all the Canadian tabloids went out of business.” “I think it’s because Lionus is very outspoken when it comes to freedom of the press,” Anglo Wolf interjected. “He has voiced his outright disdain for tabloids because they don’t always tell the truth. The fear would be over his Pegasus, Tristan, because that horse has a history of ransacking everything. Obviously it doesn’t now, especially since it talks.” “Then the same thing is happening in foreign countries,” Warwolf spoke up. “Well, if you’re American, then you say we are a foreign nation. Still, it is happening here and abroad. So clearly these tabloid people want their old jobs back.” “I can only conclude it shows the aftermath of CNG,” Dark Wolf said to Ivan. “The C.I.D.F. have said that the after-effects of that stuff will take tens of thousands of years to wear off, and one such after-effect is the fact people hold a grudge and won’t let go of it.” “You may be right about that; there have been more divorces lately, and they are all involving these tabloid people. They want their jobs back.” “Are they doing anything crazy?” “Last we heard, they were doing the usual stalking, but it was Firefox they were stalking. Then they threatened to bomb his property. They don’t follow the Laws of War.” “Doesn’t sound like it.” I turned to the others and said, “Well, let’s go find these creeps.” “We’re on it!” the others exclaimed. “The Super Wolf Pack is on the job!” The two Brits launched themselves skyward, while my cousin and I used the portals to take the fast way to our destination. The press followed at a safe distance while obeying the traffic laws. ------------- “Firefox is Scottish,” I said to Dark Wolf. “So why did they come to Southampton?” “I don’t know; that’s a good question.” I contacted Warwolf and asked him what was going on. “I can tell you,” he replied, “that my super-hearing did pick up a ruckus in Scotland. However, Firefox wasn’t at home, and they wanted to blow up his property with him in it. These terrorists won’t detonate anything unless there are people inside. I should know, because they went after me once.” “Oh, really? When was that?” “About 4 months ago.” “How did you beat them?” “My supersonic howl. They never see it coming. They’re that stupid!” “Isn’t everybody?” Dark Wolf lamented. “Everybody dumb enough to do these stupid terror attacks, I mean.” “Yes.” -------------- As we traveled around Southampton, we let Firefox know that we were on the case. In turn, he contacted Super C for us so that we could concentrate on what we were doing. “And just when you thought we were done with this,” he concluded. “It is frustrating, yes, but it doesn’t surprise me that there are more tabloid terrorists out there,” the Cat of Steel lamented. “What I can’t figure out is why they don’t just make something up and try to publish that. That was what I was assuming they would do with the letters aimed at my number one (Cripto) and our beloved President (Leo).” “Were they willing to blow you up?” “As far as I know, no. Why?” “These people would have blown me up, but I wasn’t at home. These idiots do not attack one’s property unless the owner is on it.” “Where were you, then?” “In the white kitten’s world. The D-19 needed my help with something. That’s private, though.” “I won’t ask, then. I would be the absolute last one to betray the trust established between us and them.” “Me, too.” “No; the case we had in America wasn’t like that. The only one they were after was the one who exposed them as being the source of the fan mail crisis in the States. I have to set a good example, but I am irritated. If this same problem was happening in different parts of the world, why wasn’t I notified?” “I don’t know; that is a good question. I had no idea it was happening. Otherwise, I would have said something.” ------------- Leo and his administration first learned about this when having a video chat with Lionus. “So these people are blaming losing their jobs on you to the point they are wanting to blow up people’s property?” the President exclaimed in disgust. “This is not what was happening here in the States.” “I know, and I share your frustration,” said Lionus. “I have declared them as the UK’s public enemy number one. For once, somebody other than the AIRAF or the GSAF have taken that spot.” “I bet they want it back,” Tom the Patriotic Tiger thought to himself. “How long has this been happening?” Mechayote asked Lionus. “I would say about 4 to 5 months now. I wish I had known about it sooner; I would have said something to Super C. Only now do we know about it because this terrorism group, whom I have named ‘the Tabloid Terrorists,’ because they had no way of getting even close to getting what they wanted.” “No plot of theirs ever got off the ground? What stopped them?” “Warwolf’s supersonic howl.” “Nice!” “Always ever vigilant; always ever watchful!” Leo added. “That’s what being a G-52 is all about!” ----------------- Super C later contacted Warwolf to hear his side of the story. “It’s true I am frustrated because I wasn’t notified about this,” he said, “but then again, it is impossible for me to know everything. I therefore commend your actions in keeping them at bay.” “Thank you,” Warwolf replied. “Always happy to do my duty. If my supersonic howl continues to keep them in line like this, they won’t last much longer. If not, then we may (or may not) have to get more members in on the act, like your cowboy wolf.” “Wrangler Wolf? Oh, yes; he’s amazing. He single-handedly made the state of Texas the nation’s favorite state. Anyways, what is your location?” “Southampton. I think we are getting closer. I can hear the beeps getting faster.” Indeed, our communicators had built in radars T2 invented that let us find the location of the enemy by reason and deduction. The dots on the screens started off as blue dots. As we got closer, they changed from green to yellow, then to orange, and finally to red. At this moment, they were orange. The beeps to accompany the dots sped up or slowed down in tempo accordingly. “You go ahead and check it out, then. I’m watching from HQ just in case I need to dispatch more G-52s, myself included.” ------------- The police had also been working on the case, which is the reason the press was involved. The fact UTV had sent Ivan all the way to Southampton is because the station was once under attack by these same terrorists, but for an entirely different reason. (The network refused to broadcast a segment on the news programs devoted to these tabloid headlines. It would undermine ITV News and ITV as a whole that way. Subsequently, the BBC banned its news outlets from doing tabloid headlines, and Channel 4 and Channel 5 followed suit.) It seemed that the bobbies were also disturbed by the fan mail crisis, because some of their offspring had been writing letters to Super C, Leo, and Cripto; however, they did not belong to the tabloid crowd. They were genuinely concerned with the safety and well-being of the G-52s, and we were grateful for it. When the public steps their game up and are willing to put themselves on the line, even though they are the ones we are sworn to protect, it makes doing our jobs as superheroes so much easier. “Have either of you two been getting any letters asking unacceptable questions?” the bobbies asked me and Dark Wolf. “Strangely enough, we haven’t,” I said. “No; it was all about Leo the Patriotic Lion and the bellowing he did,” Dark Wolf added. “Of course, we now know that it was all CNG’s doing because of the way it was trying to use him and his parallels as pawns, although it is worth nothing that it forgot one parallel: Len the Outback Lion of Australia.” (Len was the one parallel that didn’t have the phenomenon going where whatever came out of his mouth was treated as the absolute law. He did, however, from time to time have people tell him that when all was said and done, his way was the right way, because he would butt heads with his own government. Such was the reason he decided to go ahead and run for Prime Minister the next time Australia had an election.) “Oh, yes; that was frustrating. Lionus is only our Prime Minister; he’s not the king. Neither is your President actually the Galactic Emperor of the Universe.” “No; that’s just a popular nickname for him showing how huge his influence really was, even without CNG. He got the nickname when we beat the AIRAF in space.” “I remember that day.” “Any signs of the culprits?” “Not yet, but we do know this: there is an old Woolworths that is to be knocked down, but the wrecking crews haven’t been able to do so yet. Squatters keep occupying the building.” (Woolworths was a British company that owned the High Street chain of retail stores, as well as its own retail chain. It closed down in 2009.) “Then that must be their hideout!” I exclaimed. “Turn on the afterburners!” Anglo Wolf echoed, and everybody picked up the pace. “Figure of speech, of course.” --------------- When we got to the building, it was clear that the terrorists were waiting for us, because almost immediately, a shootout began. “I would howl my supersonic howl here, but I might do some unwanted damage.” “We can’t have that; you’re right,” said one of the bobbies as he held up a riot shield, and Warwolf jumped behind it. “However, I am curious to see what your friends can do. I don’t remember the one in the fancy sparkly uniform.” “That’s Galaxy Wolf. The glitzy silver and gold uniform you see there represents his life as a wealthy philanthropist. He’s giving Cripto a run for his money.” “Time for a distraction, cousin,” I said to Dark Wolf. “I’ll grab them by the shadows,” he agreed. “You make it too bright for them to handle!” In the two of us went, and thanks to my super speed and super strength (I have both), I was able to create diversions, making the terrorists think that the sun was coming out to shine. In reality, it was still rainy. (The UK was having a lot more rain than usual, but it wasn’t the kind of rain to threaten or cause floods.) My cousin did what he did best: hid in the shadows. Eventually the terrorists were experiencing shadow boxing in a whole new sense: their own shadows were beating the crap out of them! The assault continued for about 20 minutes until the criminals could bear it no longer, but they did try to make a run for it, even though they didn’t get far at first. (One of the bobbies managed to apprehend one of the criminals.) Warwolf and Anglo Wolf this as their cue to act so that the former could use his supersonic howl. I whistled for my cousin to jump out of the shadows since they were fleeing, and when he did, the head of the gang screamed and gasped, “Where did you come from?” “Your worst nightmares!” Dark Wolf replied in a mock villain voice. The leader then abandoned his gang and jumped into the paddy wagon (or whatever the British call that) before the police could even handcuff him. It confused the bobbies, but they wasted no time in slamming and locking the doors. The others, however, fell for our diversion and followed us out of town. ----------------- When we got to a safer part of the country that was more rural in nature, Warwolf was able to howl his supersonic howl, and as before, it scared the terrorists into surrendering. “They’ll be back,” the bobbies commented as they made the arrests. “No prison rehabilitation program can change them. They are rotten to the core.” “And so the Super Wolf Pack, as they are to be known, have saved the day again and made our world a better place to live,” Ivan spoke into the camera, concluding his report. “Ivan Brackus, UTV News.” -------------- Later, as everyone returned home from the battle, we met with Super C to discuss the situation, although my cousin had returned to wearing his drum major uniform he wore as the leader of Black Wolf Troop 222, a marching band of nothing but black wolves. (They played both military-style and modern battery percussion, and in our homeland tradition, they were always padding.) “I think that was the most action I’ve had in a long time,” I said. “Us, too,” said Anglo Wolf, since he and Warwolf had briefly dropped by the HQ to mention the scenario. “Yet we thought this tabloid issue was gone.” “I did, too, but I guess it was only gone from the United States, not the world,” Super C lamented. “Still, I am proud of you for the way you handled it. Even though I am upset because I didn’t know about it, it goes to show that I can’t keep up with everything because the G-52 organization is way bigger than it was once upon a time, and the world is too big to know everything that is happening in it. If you do find any fan letters, our new policy is that you bring them to me if you have doubts about how to answer it. I then approve whether or not you can answer it, and then must approve your response. Alternatively, you can write the response in front of me. That’s what Cripto did.” “Understood,” said Warwolf. “Being superheroes on top of our other jobs leaves us little if any time at all to reply to these fan letters, but we do read everything we receive.” “As do I.” “Most of them aren’t worth bothering to reply to, but we’re expecting loads more to reply to because people will be asking us about these people. Lionus declared them UK public enemy number one.” “No kidding.” “I know. Anyway, we will keep you posted.” “Please do.” The Cat of Steel began to feel better about the whole thing, and my cousin led the troop in a rousing rendition of the great march we associate with the United States Marine Corps, “Semper Fidelis” (which means, “always faithful,” and let’s be honest; this is what the G-52s strive to be as well). ----------------- The Zanicchi Administration celebrated with some music time of their own; they did so with the lion beating a bass drum as the two major coyotes (Zachary and Mechayote) played their field drums, and Tom played his fife. To humor Leo, the animals marched barefoot. (It was the age of the anthro animal, after all.) ----------------- Though I didn’t play an instrument myself, I was trained in the art of drill marching on my bare paws (because every male wolf in our society learned how to drill march), and so my cousin, as a gift, bought me a glitzy drum major uniform of silver and gold. After trying it on and going through the methods one goes through when learning to be a drum major, I had the honor of leading my first parade around the castle, while my cousin played his own field drum. (As always, we paraded on our paws.) The march was a march that was popular on our home world, simply titled, “The Wolf,” and my cousin was hoping to teach it to Leo and the U.S. Lion Corps Band. I would later send Leo some sheet music of the march, and he used a concert snare drum to practice, showing true patriotism with every beat of the drum. ----------------- One question remained, though: who or what was behind this new version of the fan mail crisis? We still don’t know that. All we do know is that these new supernatural forces picking up where CNG left off had something to do with the favoritism of our side, because no matter how advanced or how skilled any of these terrorists were, they became scared stiff the moment they heard Warwolf’s supersonic howl, and were all left wondering what they were going to say to the big man in the sky when the day of judgment came upon them. But we do know this: wherever there is trouble, the Super Wolf Pack will be there to crush it! Don’t hesitate to call us, folks. Don’t just call us, though; the G-52 app lets you call any G-52 you think is the right one to call. If you don’t have our app and/or the C.I.D.F. app, get them; they are free to use on all platforms, Apple and Android, Windows and beyond. They will save your lives; they have proven that time and time again. --------------- In any event, the next day was a day to just relax, so I used it to clear my mind while returning to my life as a wealthy philanthropist. --------------- [color=silver][b]THE END[/b][/color]