The Vulture sulked as the other villains exploded in riotous laughter.

"Oh, oh, good one, Vulty!" Scorpion slapped him on the back, in hysterics.

"Yeah. Hoo-hoo," laughed Stilt-Man.

If there was one thing he hated, it was being laughed at by such a simpleton as Stilt-Man!

"I merely stated that I could beat a superhero - "

Again the room exploded with howls and hoots.

"C-come on, Vulture!" snorted the Owl. "Daredevil? A guy with a billy club? Or how about Spider-Man? You've done so-o-o-o-o well against him!

"Though, he does have super-powers... "

"Vulture, you can't fight your way out of a paper bag," said Captain Cold.

Everyone turned. Captain Cold?

"Pretend i'm here on a crossover, ya pansies," Cold snapped. "Point remains, Vulture, you couldn't take down one of those stupid X-Men."

"Now, you just hold on," began the Vanisher. "The X-Men are - "

"Chumps," Cold said bitterly. "Look at 'em - really look at 'em. Cyclops shoots lasers, big whup. He's no tougher than a normal wimp. Same goes for Storm. At least Nightcrawler can teleport outta harm's way. There's Wolverine, but that's about it in the tough department. Ooh, it's a Marvel he-ro. Wimps."

For a moment the Villain Bar was silent. It really shouldn't be all that hard to win at least once against these do-gooding do-gooders.

"Well, I'm going to show you! I'll take down the first hero I see!"

"Bwah hah hah hah! That Vulture!"

"Yeah, what a kidder!"

Vulture sulked out of the bar, determined to beat the first superhero he saw into the pavement, just to show them. But he had to be careful - this was Marvel New York, home to just about every superhero in existence. If he ran into Thor or even Iron Man, well, he was toast, that's what. It's why he stayed to the Lower Low Side, home of Spider-Man and Daredevil and that's about it.

Perhaps he should start out with New Jersey. He heard El Aquila liked to hang out in Jersey City...

Maybe the Pine Barrens? No, not even he would be seen beating up Squirrel Girl.

Besides, he had an unusual fear of rodents. He steered clear of Mighty Mouse, even though his company no longer published the Mouse's adventures.

Brrrr. Too close.

Suddenly someone jumped down in front of him!

"Oy, Vulture, yer a gonna get slammed - by Psylocke!"

A small woman - well, small unless you're counting her boobs, which kind of made up for the whole small thing - in an incredibly tight blue leotard and boots raised her hand high, and a psychic energy blade (don't ask) sprang forth!

Vulture hesitated for a moment.

"Wot?"

"Uh, you're Asian - but you sound like a drunken Englishwoman?"

"I'm Japanese," Psylocke growled, "But I have to talk like that to emphasize that I'm also English!"

"That explains the huge tits and missing ribs," observed the Vulture. "No Japanese woman has those!"

He turned away. "Not to mention your tights are cut halfway to your armpits."

"Hey - I mean, oi! All men melt when they see these comin' at 'em!"

Vulture sighed and kept walking. "Not me - I'm 93 years old. My junk stopped working years ago.

"Slut."

"'Ey, wait just a bloody minute, guv! Really, see, I'm an English heroine who got turned Japanese... oh, never mind! I'm gonna - !"

Psylocke ran just as fast as she could without knocking herself out with her bouncing breasts, and leapt onto the Vulture's back!

"Oof! What?"

Psylocke's psychic energy sword (don't ask) appeared in her hand!

And the Vulture took off!

"Yiiiieeeeeeee!"

With Psylocke on his back!

"Y'know, at first I wasn't going to bother with you," the Vulture growled. "Such a pretty young girl. I turned away - but you had to attack me!"

The Vulture swooped around the skyscrapers while Psylocke held on for dear life.

"Yiiii - er, I mean, oiiiiii!"

"Can't fly, can you?" cackled the Vulture.

"N-no!"

"Can't spin webs to buildings, right?"

"Of course not!"

"Can't pull an emergency Bat-Chute out of your ass?"

"What? No!"

"Just checking."

She reactivated out her psychic energy sword (don't ask).

"I can generate a psychic sword (don't ask), which I will use on you unless you stop right now!"

"O-kay-y-y."

The Vulture used his wings to stop in midair.

Psylocke, unfortunately, did not stop (Newton's Law - look it up.).

Psylocke went flying straight into the concrete of the Empirical State Building.

Since the Empirical state Building has stood up to tornados, hurricanes, high winds and even a plane crash or two (look it up!) it certainly can stand up to Psylocke crashing into it.

So, it did.

"Aaaahhgggkk!" was her muffled cry as her big titties were flattened against the concrete. They were big enough that it took her face a second or two to whip forward into the wall.

"Oo-ooo-ooo.... "

For a moment, she hung there, flattened against the building.

Then slow-w-ly, her head hung back, and she peeled off the building, the spandex of her leotard making a sound halfway between ripping and the sound of an old wet banana.

She fell, headfirst, down, down... until she crashed through the lid of a dumpster with her face.

Psylocke lay amid the trash, completely knocked out.

The Vulture looked down at her pretty blue box.

"Wow, Cold was right - they don't have any defenses to speak of," he mused.

He swooped down and landed, his heels slamming into her big blue boulders. She didn't make a peep.

Then the Vulture realized something.

He had beaten a superheroine!

Not much of one, mind you, but still...

The Vulture looked around. There was some rope... but it was pink.

Pink.

He sighed.

Well, the guys would never believe him without some sort of proof - and heaven knows he couldn't take the risk of Miss Melons waking up when he was in midair.

So, he tied her up.

First he tied her legs up tight, with rope wound around the knees and ankles; she looked like she might know some martial arts...

Or he was just resorting to stereotypes, again.

Next he tied ropes around her middle, two rows. He then tied a central rope, carefully, between the two sections - and then down through her crotch and butt!

What the hell, it wasn't any tighter than her leotard already was.

Maybe his old parts were workin', at that.

Then he tied her arms up, tight... and looked at her big boobs trying to burst out of her leotard.

Huh. She probably used them during a fight, to whop someone upside the head. Maybe they were prehensile. Whatever they were, they had to be magic or something to hold that shape without a bra.

So, he tied them up, too. Better safe than sorry. INSERT PICTURE OF PSYLOCKE HERE (http://www.superheroinecentral.com/~wizard/Challenge14/Chall14_SuperBratGirl04.htm)

Then he flew toward the villains' bar, towing Psylocke by the rope between her beaver lips and her ass (sorry - arrrrsse. She's British, you know).

"There!" he shouted in triumph as he dumped the sexy Japanese girl (OK, OK - British!) on a pool table. "Told you!"

"Geez, you've only been gone, what, twenty minutes!" cried Stilt-Man.

"Thirteen," snapped Captain Cold. "Huh. Nothing to it."

"Hey, I bet I can beat Cyclops or Marvel Girl!" screeched the Owl.

"Daredevil's just a wus with a billy club! I can take him!" vowed the Porcupine.

"Let's get 'em!" cried the villains, and they all raced for the door...

Leaving Captain Cold and the Vulture alone with Psylocke.

"Well... uh, thanks, Cold. You sure got everyone riled up."

"Me?" smiled Cold. "Nah, but you're welcome anyway."

He rose to leave.

"What are you gonna do with the Asian chick?"

A tiny protest arose, which was hard because there was rope through her mouth, too: "I'm Bwitish!"

Vulture said, "Oh, shut up."