Kite Man: Hell Yeah!

Well, the briefcase appears to be nuke proof.

You've got to be kidding me.

I guess we've got to find some other way

to destroy the Anti-Life Equation.

Totally. Or maybe I should keep it.

I mean, that way, it doesn't land in the wrong hands.

Babe, no way.

Bein' Beast Mode taught me I never want a power.

The briefcase seems to respect that.

So while it makes you a Murderey Molly,

it just makes me a guy with a briefcase.

Fine. Yes, you're right.

Babe, we probs don't have time for this discush.

I think the nuke exploge tipped our locaysh.

Damn it! Okay, you grab the briefcase.

If it's not here, they'll assume it's destroyed.

It'll buy us some time.

We've got to stay on the move.

And keep the briefcase as far away from you as possible, so...

Whoa! Sweet truck.

Are you thinking what I'm thinking, babe?

I mean, you do put the hot in hotwire.

Chuck, we don't need a clever line

every time we do something.

Good point. Hell yeah.

I thought we were gonna steal the pickup.

No way, babe. This is perf.

The briefcase is way in the back.

We stay on the move.

and fulfill every kid's dream

of being on the open road hauling chicken.

Wow, you've gotten really good at mixing drinks, Mals.

The secret... ...is love what you do.

They get it.

Oh, hey there, Mr. Darkseid! To what do we owe the pleasure?

He always visits me on the anniversary of my parents' death.

How sweet.

- He killed them. - Ah.

Trust me, Malice, you dodged a bullet.

Well, nontraditional families are families still.

You've done well for yourself here, Malice.

Serving drinks to the scum of an already derelict species.

Hey, take it easy with the compliments.

However, this place is beneath you.

- Thanks, I guess. - I have excellent news.

It's time for you to serve me.

One Lee Trevino coming up.

No. What I'm saying is you will come serve me on Apokolips

and help me enslave the entire universe.

Like, today?

See, Goldilocks, you cannot look at screens all day.

You need fresh air! It makes you strong!

You were strong when you stood up to Mr. Luthor and Ms. Villigan.

Well, I suppose.

After all, I don't take orders from anyone.

I want a lollipop!

Coming right up.

- Here's three. - Ah! Ugh.

That third one will be just right.

And I want to go home and watch a show.

When I was your age, I did not have shows.

I was in a pit. I would use my imagination

and invent stories for the rocks.

They and the darkness were my only friends.

Then tell me a story.

A love story.

With the princess. But not with kissing.

Kissing is too yucky.

Okay, I know a love story that conveniently

has no kissing or eye contact.

Yay!

Once upon a time, there was a pretty cool guy named Ba...

Um, uh... Bane-jamin.

One day, in the 19 and 80s,

he met the most beautiful princess in the world:

Princess Rebecca Chen...

Damn it! Do you have cash?

I must have lost my wallet escaping from the resort.

Negativ-io on the cash-io, babe.

I tipped generously at the hotel.

The hotel that ratted us out to Villigan's?

Those people live off tips.

Well, we can't use cards or Helen will be able to track us.

I have an idea, babe.

Babe, are you sure

we should just leave it in the truck?

Glider, no one's going in that trailer.

Chicken theft is incredibly rare.

Now, watch a master salesman at work.

Greetings, sir.

My lady and I would like a table.

Oh, and by the way, these eggs are definitely not for sale.

- Okay? - Yeah. No.

Just because they're super special, I can't put a price on them.

If I had to, though, I'd say $5 an egg.

Wouldn't take a penny less.

- I'll give you a dime an egg. - And sold.

What a sucker.

Well, okay.

Yeah, sure, I totally want to.

But I have to give Kite Man and Golden Glider a two weeks' notice

and, uh, obviously, they're not here right now,

So I guess--

They're on the run with that Anti-Life Equation?

Kite Man and Golden Glider have the Anti-Life Equation?

Um, no, no, don't listen to the guy who just shit himself.

Everyone knows Lex Luthor and Helen Villigan

have the Whatever-you-call-it Equation?

Right, so you should probably kill them if you need to kill anyone.

You'd never lie to me like your parents did,

would you, Malice?

No way, lying is... out of fashion.

I have sought this information for a thousand generations.

Now, to fulfill my destiny!

Keep the Lee Trevinos cold for my return.

Shit, shit, shit! I just lied to my god-daddy!

Not a normal lie either,

a lie about something he's really interested in.

Oh, I wouldn't worry, Mals. He seems reasonable.

He came to celebrate killing my parents.

Shit on a prick! On a stick!

I don't know what the saying is.

I am screwed.

What we definitely can't do is go back to Noonan's.

That's the first place they'll look.

What should we do then?

We should, one, stay away from Noonan's.

- Two, avoid Noonan's. - That's the same point, babe.

I really can't stress it enough, babe.

How exactly does one destroy something that can't be nuked?

Easy we wait for a storm.

A brain storm.

Now let's get a look at these chicken thieves.

Shoot her! Shoot her!

Drop it in the ocean, feed it to a starfish,

or awaken a Kaiju like a Mothra or a Godzilla.

I love how creative you are, babe.

I just... I don't know if any of these things really exist.

- Um, babe. - What?

Chuck! I told you!

You were right.

And obviously, that's what we should be

- focused on at this moment. - That is not what I mean.

Oh, cluckin' hell.

See? A clever line feels pretty good sometimes.

The scan's complete.

There's no sign of the Anti-Life Equation.

Congratulations, Villigan.

Your incompetence led to the destruction

of the only thing that could kill Superman.

My incompetence?

You had it hidden for months in a dive bar under chicken nuggets.

What were you waiting for?

The obvious thing. His birthday.

Or am I some kind of rube who kills Superman on a random Tuesday?

Hello, Lord Darkseid.

- How are you? - What a lovely surprise.

Silence! I despise pleasantries.

Where is the Anti-Life Equation?

Well, Lord Darkseid,

unfortunately, there was a giant nuclear explosion.

And the Equation has been destroyed.

Idiots.

The Anti-Life Equation cannot be destroyed by a mere nuclear blast.

One thousand nuclear blasts would not even tickle a hair on its ball sack.

Oh, shut the fuck up!

Well, if it still exists, we should find it.

There's no we here.

You two are out of your depth.

Time to step aside and let the big dog eat.

Lord Darkseid, I'll happily bow out of the race for the Anti-Life Equation

if you agree to one tiny condition.

- Which is? - Villigan's Crime will be

the exclusive delivery service for Apokolips.

- Free one-hour shipping? - In perpetuity. It's a win-win.

I like your style, Villigan. Deal.

Luthor, you're awfully quiet.

Anything you care to add?

Only congratulations to you both.

Let me know if I can be of any assistance

in your search, Lord Darkseid.

Good. So we agree.

The Anti-Life Equation is mine, and you two are out.

Well, you rolled over like a horny puppy.

If I hadn't, we'd both be dead.

Once I have the Anti-Life Equation, it won't matter.

I'll be even more powerful than Darkseid.

And exactly how do you plan to find

the Anti-Life Equation before Darkseid does?

I don't need to find it.

I'll have it delivered straight to me.

And then he discovered that Princess Rebecca

had been thrown into a deep pit.

Uh... Excuse me. What is that?

Oh, it's just an applesauce squeezer.

They have those?

Do you have any idea how much time I spend smushing apples,