Brave and the Bold: Vanguard

"Alright, I'll be back in a jiffy, Bones." The Flash said after getting the files in his hand, then blasted out of the cabin. Only to come back in to explain that a jiffy is an actual increment of time, then running back out.

"My ring does what it needs to, Director. The only limits are my imagination." The Emerald Guardian smirked showing off his glowing ring.

"And I guess I'm just here because I look pretty." Aquaman crossed his arms, a hint of spite towards the operations in the Watchtower.

“Nope” Director Bones said with a smug smirk; not that anyone could tell, stepping right up to the atlantian king. “That’s my job. Heh.” He certainly thought he was funny. “You’re here to kill, contain, or take control over whatever greenie finds with his fancy flashlight.” The skeleton man hobbled lightly, stepping up to the door. “Goodfeeling and his rangers haven’t had any luck, but we’re looking forward to seeing what you big boys can do.”

The Director of the Department of Extranormal Operations stepped his good foot out into the Washington wilderness and took a deep breath of the fresh air; immediately before he removed a cigar from his case and stuck it between his teeth. “Come on boys. We got a beasty to hunt.” He smirked, glancing back over one shoulder as he struck a match, and lit his cigar.

---

Freddy Jones had never really fit the ‘hippy’ profile. He was tall, fit, blonde and had always kept his hair short. In high school he was athlete who had dated vapid girls with good curves and when it came to social reform her preferred to leave that to whatever the hottest girl in the room thought. He had however; owned a van, and back in the day, that had been more than enough.

Today however; he was a semi-respectable house-husband married to a semi-successfully lady lawyer living in the suburbs of Phoenix Arizona. They had two children, ages six and eight. Who were currently playing out back in the pool; because it was Phoenix and he had insisted that they play outside and if that hadn’t involved a pool it would have involved heatstroke.

His house was one of a hundred like it, in a planned community where the only real difference between the Jones house and their neighbors was the plastic pink flamingos their right-side neighbors had on their front lawn and the bright red bike, complete with lightning decal, sitting in the driveway of their left-side neighbors.