"If we had known it would be such a troublesome thing, we should have gone to find the Mobius chair."
Superboy walked to the ladies such as Harley, folded his arms and complained. His long black hair was stained with a little gray. He looked more mature at this time, but what he said was very childish:
"I can sit on the chair that Batman can sit on, and I can definitely withstand its side effects."
"Hehe, the last person who sat on that chair was Wally, but that thing almost burned his brain, and in the end the chair flew to nowhere."
The kind-hearted Harley pointed to the floor aside and motioned for Superboy to sit down and chat. Luther didn't know how long he would be busy, and said:
"So, instead of looking for that chair, you and I might as well go to the editorial office and find a few acquaintances to see if we can ask anything."
Hearing this topic, Damian, who was standing next to Cindy's thigh, narrowed his eyes and listened quietly, covering up his presence.
"There's no need to go, I've been there before, and the current DC editorial department is no longer what you know."
The long-haired Superboy sighed, looked at the back of the fifth-dimensional man who also joined in the fun and rummaged through the cabinet, sat down and whispered to Harley:
"The people there now seem to have been brainwashed. They think about what is right every day, and they no longer care whether the plot is reasonable or not."
"Damn, I want to ask Jim Lee to draw me for the next issue. He can always make my butt look super nice."
Harley frowned, obviously unhappy, but after she blew a bubble, she laughed again:
"But it doesn't matter. If all the DC editors go crazy and I turn around and join Valve, Neil Gaiman will definitely be able to paint me with an artistic sense."
"What are you two talking about?" While Superboy nodded thoughtfully, the confused Raven asked a question because she could no longer understand the conversation between the two mental patients: "What editorial department?
Who are these two people you are talking about?"
"Well, logically you shouldn't know this, because the more you know, the faster you will go crazy."
Harry, who was rolling bubble gum with his tongue, saw the raven's cute appearance, smiled and put his face against her, and then said:
"But you are a sorcerer and you already have split personality, so that doesn't matter. Let me tell you about it. Well, how should I put it? Do you know Channel 52?"
"I know a little bit, I haven't been there, but I heard from Donna that Deathstroke is cooperating with them?" Raven nodded, her hood sliding on top of her head with gravity, exposing her forehead.
"You're talking about that person, not me." Cindy interrupted. She had already taken off her helmet and was squatting aside to smoke.
"In short, it's good to know that the newsroom is a special place at a higher level. People there can modify our stories. Compared to witnesses like Channel 52, they are more like...
maker?"
At this point, Harley was still a little unsure and looked for Superboy's opinion with her eyes.
"It can be said that they are at a higher level than the fifth-dimensional people." Superboy nodded and added, but his voice was not loud, as if he was afraid of being heard by others: "But that was before, now
What happened to us has nothing to do with that place, the story has completely changed..."
As he spoke, his tone was a little disappointed, because if that way was feasible, it would be much easier to deal with Proraya.
"Hehe, I probably guessed it. Although I didn't go to this year's Comic Exhibition, but if it goes according to what you said, they wouldn't draw a beauty like Xiao Dai, and instead draw her little girl with a little bit of blood.
Aren’t all the readers of the black aunt who has a relationship with her gone away?”
Speaking of this, Harley wanted to laugh, even though as her best friend, she couldn't even remember the name of Diana's aunt.
"That aunt of hers...I don't remember her name. I just saw the cover and I wasn't interested." Superboy patted his uniform, especially the S logo on his chest, and shouted in the distance: "Troublemaker!
Do you remember what Wonder Woman’s aunt is called?”
Yes, a troublemaker can also join in such "climbing the wall" topics. After all, he is a fifth-dimensional person, and what happens to everyone is just a comic story in his eyes.
"I don't remember! Is your brain offline? Who would go to see her?! She is obviously a woman, but she looks like an actor from the War Machine in the MCU movie next door! And as an Amazon warrior, he is a knight in medieval Europe.
A, also uses the m870 shotgun as a weapon, and the upper limit of combat power is too low! It is better to watch the Terminator!"
When the question was asked, the troublemaker who was rummaging through the cabinet felt as if he had been stung by a scorpion. He obviously acted like he must have seen it, but he denied it, as if he was afraid that admitting that he remembered would embarrass Superman fans.
.....
The three of them were chatting happily, but the other people around them seemed to be trapped in the clouds and fog, and they couldn't figure it out at all.
Cindy, Damian, Raven, none of them are stupid. Every word of these words is in English, but the combined meaning is incomprehensible, and it makes my head hurt.
The bald old man with a shiny head raised a metal plate that was also shiny in his hand to signal to everyone that they had discovered something. Then he slid his fingers on it, and soon a stone tablet fell from the sky. He didn't know where it came from.
But he is obviously used to it:
"It's a bit strange. I remember that this board shouldn't be here last time. How did it come to my hand... Well, no matter what, everyone comes here and I will translate for you."
He noticed something was wrong, that is, the process of finding things was too smooth. To be honest, he just remembered that he had accidentally seen Prolaya's information before, and the search just now was completely luck.
But I don't know why my luck was so good today. I opened less than ten cabinets before I was met.
It's like there are invisible hands helping...
But this is a good thing, isn't it? So don't worry too much, he invited everyone to come closer and have a meeting together.
"I'll come, I'll translate." The chief made a strong call, which made the latter look like a black man with a question mark on his face, but he didn't care, he stretched out his hand and shouted: "I have a doctorate in classical literature, and I guarantee that I will translate well."
Literary."
"Uh...Okay, come on." Luther gave up his seat next to the stone monument with a puzzled look on his face. He had determined that the Chief was indeed sick, and it was best to stay away to avoid being infected by Doom Patrol.
Team madness.
Since the chief can understand the mixed script used by Perpetua, let him do it and save himself some saliva.
The chief was very satisfied with this result. Panting, he pushed the wheelchair to the stone monument, but the corners of his mouth turned up crazily. Obviously, in his heart, he had won again this time!