jla_watchtower | I don't know art....

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I don't know art....

"I don't care who put it there!" snaps Alfredo Hall, jabbing an angry finger at the tall twisted sculpture near the Shaw Lowell Memorial Fountain. "It's all wrong. It's positively banal. It's ruining this show! I want it out of here!"

The construction worker is losing his patience. "Look, mac, I don't give a rat's naked tuchus what you want. I got a work order right here--" He waves the pink copy in Hall's face. "--telling me an' my boys to put that thing up, and nobody's gonna take it down without another work order!"

"Fine! I'll do it myself!"

"You try that and I'll have the union on your--" He catches sight of the zombies moving in. "Hooooly shit. What kinda crazy show you putting on here? Didn't you know Halloween was last week?"

Alfredo Hall turns and looks. "No! Oh, god, what else could go wrong today? I swear this show is cursed!"

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Alfredo Hall gapes at the youth. "Stop!" He flaps his hands to shoo him away. "What are you doing? Is this some kind of protest?"

"No, this is badly dressed dead people rising from the grave to... well this is where I'd say eat the brains of the living but brains probably have too many calories for them. Sir, you'd better clear out now."

Alfred Hall dismisses the suggestion with a flip of his hand. "No, no, don't be silly. Do you know how much is tied up in this production?" He sweeps his hand grandly to the tents, each of which bears a banner proclaiming a fashion extravaganza from the House of Hall. "I've worked too hard to throw all this away. Go clean up the mess, there's a good boy."

"Sir, you've probably heard this before but, you? Are crazy."

"Or just really desperate for a successful line for once," Vixen quips as she's thrown into the room. In spite of the fact that she's been fighting her way here, she looks remarkably well put together.

Not a single strand of hair is out of place.

Models get the good hairspray.

She angrily punches a zombie in the midsection, her (thankfully) gloved hand splattering through it. "It's not like you needed your stomach anyway," she says. "In life or in death."

"Mari!" Alfred throws his arms wide, smiling broadly. "So good to see you! Please tell me you've come to surprise me with your grace, beauty and endorsement."

"No, she's too busy smashing Zombies. Something that is going to be a lot harder to do if we have to protect your sorry behind."

"Sorry sweetheart," she grins softly at Alfred. "I'm here to take down the zombies. Maybe we'll talk endorsements later. Especially if you keep in mind that I'm here saving your ass and your line." She ducks another zombie and claws at a second. "You can watch all my grace and beauty as I do it, though."

Alfredo holds up his hands, apparently framing her. "You're inspiring me ... I foresee a new line of urban chic...."

Unbeknownst to the oblivious Hall, a trio of zombies is shambling behind him, heading for the eyesore sculpture.

"And you're not seeing the zombies." Static blasts them away.

"Pay attention. Zombie uprising happening now."

"Alfredo? Sweetie? There's this delightful new fabric that's come out, and it's available only in LA. I'm thinking you need to go there now, before Galatea Grant or the House of Tatou gets their grimy, unfashionable paws on them. And then, when you return, we'll discuss urban chic. Just promise me you won't hire Paige Monroe as your lead model." Mari's been fighting as she talks to the designer, switching from the powers of a cheetah, to an elephant, to a bee, and back now to the powers of an electric eel.

"It's the best way to go for a stunning, original new line."

"But--" he begins to protest.

"Listen to the lady, Alfredo. Hiring Monroe is a sure way to bomb completely."

A green bubble forms around the man, protecting him the zombies while Jade joins the fight.

"Good to see you again, Vixen."

A lesser man than I might be tempted to say something perverted in this situation.

"I cannot thank you enough for shutting him up. So, either of you two ladies know what's causing the B-Movie plot from Hell?"

Alfredo Hall begins banging his fist against the bubble, then winces, dramatically clutching his hand to his chest. His mouth moves, and judging by the increased ruddiness of his complexion, he is very upset.

However, the bubble appears to be soundproof, and the heroes outside cannot hear him.

The first wave of zombies to enter the park drift (in a parody of a seductive walk) towards the hideous sculpture. The twisted metal needle, covered with splotches of eye-blinding color, becomes the focal point of their attention.

The tents on the southeastern edge of the Great Lawn quiver, then begin to collapse.

Hal flies down, nodding to Jade and Vixen as he arrives. "Ring, scan the statue... confirm this is what's drawing the zombies here, please."

Confirmed, the ring replies.

Panicked screaming can now be heard from the collapsing tents, and the fabric walls are beginning to twist and stretch as those inside try to fight their way out.

"So GL? What should we do? Blast it into bite-size pieces?"

"You get the tents! I'll get the statue!"

He lifts the statue up into the air. "The thing's kinda ugly anyway."

And, the baby tucked under his arm, he begins squeezing the statue with green energy, attempting to break it into dust.

"You got it!" Static zooms over to the tents and lifts the metal poles with his powers, lifting the ersatz buildings upwards.

"Run now!"

The models, more coordinated than their undead counterparts advancing on the park, continue to scream as they run across the grass, occasionally tripping when their stiletto heels sink into the turf.

The catwalk-strutting undead continue to flock to the statue, which is beginning to crumble under the forces exerted by the Green Lantern.

Hal keeps the statue out of their reach, while continuing to exert pressure.

It may have some sort of magic in it, but Hal wants this thing crushed into pebbles. And with his willpower fueling this ring... it will happen.

I don't know art....

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