[identity profile] the-ambush-bug.livejournal.com

A camera pans over a vast audience of super-heroes and super-villains from all walks of live, orchestral fanfare playing all the while, before the camera and the stage lights come to focus on the main forum, and its red velvety curtains.

An announcer's voice booms: "Live, from Bob Kane Memorial Stadium - designed, drawn, and funded by Bill Finger - it's the Second and a Half Annual Ambush Bug Presents Awards Extravaganza!"

The curtains part, giving way to the night's emcee - Ambush Bug, dressed to the nines in a sharp tuxedo. A sharp, orange tuxedo.

"Good evening ladies and gentlemen, and welcome to the Ambush Bug Awards - the Schwabbies, as they are popularly known. This is our second and a half annual ceremony, and I hope we can continue the fine tradition of dignity and aplomb that we have maintained all these years. But - what's this?"

Ambush Bug looks towards the rafters, where there is suddenly a glow.
[identity profile] the-ambush-bug.livejournal.com

A steel-drum rendition of a typical nightly news theme can be heard - a familiar antennaed silhouette sits behind a desk, holding a stack of papers. As the lights come up, the three-piece suit and bad toupee are revealed.

"Good evening. Our top story tonight - famed comic book writer Mark Millar has been killed in the Marvel Universe, causing a spontaneous outpouring of joy amongst the heroes of that world. When asked to comment on the seemingly out-of-character celebration of a human being's death, several sources simply shrugged and said that it made for 'a better story.' More on that as it develops."

He looks to his co-anchor, a familiar mute kewpie doll in a red superhero jumpsuit - ALSO wearing a bad toupee. "I'm Ambush Bug, and this is my co-anchor, Cheeks. Welcome to WTDC Channel 5 News. Other hard-hitting stories, sports, and weather, all coming up next. Stay tuned."
[identity profile] the-ambush-bug.livejournal.com

(Music Cue : "Have a Holly-Jolly Christmas")

The stage resembles a large, stylish den in this outing - decorated with all the Christmas trimmings. Stockings are hung by the chimney with care. There's a tree, decorated with metallic orange tinsel. Houngan is there, sitting at a piano.

Standing by the tree is Ambush Bug, in a Fred Rogers-esque outfit, complete with slacks, a sweater, and a toupee. He's sipping a small cup of egg nog as he 'notices' the camera. "Oh, well! Seems our guests have finally arrived. Hello, folks, and welcome to the Ambush Bug Christmas Special Extravaganzapalooza. Now also serving Hanukkah and Kwanzaa, to the best of our limited ability to understand and properly spell those holidays."

"We have a whole evening of Holiday Fun lined up - some special guests to make you smile, and I may just belt out a rendition of some holiday standard. Later on, I think we'll go to the phones, and maybe we'll even look at some letters to Santa Claus.."

He trails off, looking annoyedly off-camera towards his musical director. "What are you fidgeting about, Houngan?"
[identity profile] the-ambush-bug.livejournal.com

An unseen announcer kicks things off this week. "Now, it's time for Late Night With Ambush Bug! With Max Houngan and the Max Houngan Seven!" With that, the camera pans over the band area, showing Houngan and his synthesizer next to six empty music stands. "Now here he is.. AM-Bush Bug!"

Ambush Bug dances a little jig as he walks to center stage, wearing a three-piece suit over the usual green accoutrements.

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[identity profile] the-ambush-bug.livejournal.com

The music begins to play. The lights come up, revealing a stage, backed by red curtains.

From offstage, a booming voice announces. "Ladies and Gentlemen, it's that time again - it's Ambush Bug Presents, with your host, Ambush Bug! And now, Heeeeeeeeere's Buggy!"

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[identity profile] the-ambush-bug.livejournal.com

Somber music plays as a man with antennae, in silhouette, steps in front of the half-drawn caricature.

The lights come up as he turns to face the camera, and speaks in a faux British accent.

"Good evening."

"To-night on our show, we will be dealing with matters of cosmic importance."

The accent is discarded, and the Bug grows more animated. "Green Lanterns, High Beings, all that ricketa-racketa." He gestures vaguely, to emphasize his point.

Offstage, an assistant audibly whispers. "HighER beings!"

Ambush Bug chuckles. "Oh, right, right - but you can't tell me that Highfather isn't toking up on New Genesis. I mean, look at the name! And I'm pretty sure his hair is in dreadlocks. Even the beard! That's just gross."

He walks towards the right of the screen, the camera panning to follow him - revealing a standard talk-show desk and couch set. "So, we've got a new setup for the show, and we're not pre-empting any specials about dull dramatic movies. Yes, I did fire Cheeks as my bandleader, but he's still with us, as Executive Producer.. you wouldn't believe the contract he had! We'll be taking calls a little later on, I'll let you know when. First, I'd like to introduce my new co-host!"

The camera pans, and a curtain rolls back, revealing the familiar crimson form of a Manhunter android.
[identity profile] the-ambush-bug.livejournal.com
The lights roll down onto a somber, almost Masterpiece-Theatre-like stage. Seated in a comfy-looking chair in the center is Ambush Bug, dressed like Hugh Hefner, perusing a copy of Who's Who in the DC Universe, and puffing on a bubble pipe. Pretending to have just noticed the camera, he sets the book aside and begins to speak.

"Mmah, guv edening.."

He pauses, taking the pipe from his lips, and taps it out in a nearby ashtray.

"Ahem. Ah, good evening. So glad you could join us. Come on in, sit a spell. Take your shoes off. Ya'll come back now, y'hear?"

He folds his hands on his lap. "I'm here, with the assistance of the good folks at the Pubic Broadcasting System.. eh?" He looks off-camera, exchanging whispered words with a stagehand. "Er, Public Broadcasting System, yes." He inhales. "Anyways, we're here as a sort of informative forum, to catch you all up on news of the day, discuss topics of interest, and things like that."

"First, I'd like to point out, that in a recent discussion between messers Nightwing and the Flash.. Flash III, Nightwing 0, for those keeping score.. that it was revealed that Miss Jesse Quick and Miss Flamebird got bi-zay." He pauses for effect. "I'd just like to add - that's totally freakin' hot!" He adjusts the collar of the smoking jacket he wears. "But, one wonders - how'd they sort out their costumes after? It'd be like a sea of red and gold. Heck, if you threw Mary Marvel in the mix.." He just sort of trails off right there, staring off into space..

Soembody stage-whispers 'You're on the air, you moron!'

"Hm? Oh, right.. right. I just got that image in my head, and Shazam!"

A chorus of groans goes up from the studio audience.

"Anyway, this segues nicely into my next point. How the devil do people who work at Arkham Asylum get affordable insurance rates? I mean, really. And how do they convince interns to work there?"

He eases back into the chair. "I think we'll open up the phone lines now, and see if we have any callers. That's : 555-DC4U."
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