They shot the Messenger, Tabitha said, and he wasn’t expected to survive.

“What was he even doing there?” Brad asked. “Breaking up a robbery, a drug deal? That doesn’t sound like him. Last I heard, he was stranded at the Cosmic Gates, lost in the Mists of Time, thinking deep thoughts about truth and justice or something like that.”

“Turns out he was in Poughkeepsie.”

It turned out, much to the shock of the gathered League, that the Messenger had been a fraud.

“Congratulations, Mrs. Armstrong, you’re having twins.”

“Twins?”

“That’s right. Now if I could see you in about ten weeks?”

“What do you mean ‘twins’?”

“I mean two babies. We don’t know whether they’re fraternal or identical yet, but…”

“That’s wonderful, Margie!”

“Be quiet, Harold. I don’t see what’s so wonderful about twins. You see, Dr. Myers, I wanted multiples.”

Blurch the Earthworm spat out a mouthful of putrid soil. Although he badly wanted to scowl, he lacked the musculoskeletal qualities to do so.

Brittney went upstairs to ask her husband a question. She found him sitting on their bed and watching a football game on television. “Honey, how would you like to go to a movie tonight?”

“You know I don’t go to theaters!” Abraham Lincoln yelled.

Dr. Horton entered the room and took a deep breath. “There’s been a slight mix-up. We accidentally replaced some of your plasma with plasma.”

Brownell frowned. “I’m not following.”

Across the hall, nurses rushed into another room.

“You’re familiar with the plasma in your blood?” Dr. Horton said.

“Not really. I know there is such a thing.”

“Well, this plasma is different.”

“Different like it’s from a different person?”

“Different like it’s a completely different substance with the same name.”