The Flex Co Animation Agenda

Chapter 3: ch3: Homelander Lasers The Deep’s D*ck


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AN: Hey guys and gals, I’m going to try and have one of these once a week, but they won’t all be this size. While I know this will be confusing, I will explain everything throughout the story. Silas and his party have been through at least 2 other worlds, not counting their original one, and they understand how things work. Unfortunately, Silas can’t jump again until after season 3, so it will be a while before he goes to a new world. Oh, and if you want some flashback scenes of the Gantz world, tell me in a review or comment, depending on the platform. That’s all for now; enjoy the chapter; thanks, guys and gals, for listening and reading; I really appreciate it.

 

 

CH3: Actions Have Consequences.

 

 

Tears ran down her face as she was forced to gag on The Deep’s prick. It was disgusting, strangely shaped, and it was too much. Not the size, but the sheer embarrassment of doing something so low on her first day must have gotten to Starlight. The Deep’s claim that he was the number 2 hero and his ability to expel Starlight were greatly exaggerated. She was naïve, but that would pass as it did with all of Vought’s supes. If she didn’t, she’d be expelled from the seven when naiveté became stupidity.

 

“Yea, that’s right, I’m the number 2.” The Deep said as he grabbed her hair and forced himself in deeper.

 

Fortunately, when a lady is in danger, a hero arrives.

 

“Deep!” A yell rang out through the seven-meeting room, and the member was yanked out. She turned to see Homelander's eyes glowed red. She managed to throw herself back as Homelander lasered The Deep.

 

The Homelander, America’s number one hero, just lasered The Deep’s dick to a nub of burnt flesh.

 

He floated a foot off the ground, smiling. It was horrible and thrilling to see the number 1 hero in action. The Deep fell on his ass, holding the burnt remains of his manhood while the Homelander continued to give his winning smile.

 

“Starlight, why don’t you go get yourself cleaned up. Also, call the medical team. The Deep needs a pipe or something to piss out of. Oh, before I forget, have you seen Noir? He’s been scarce recently.”

 

Stan Edgar, the CEO of Vought, turned off the recording. Madelyn Stillwell stood off to the side, away from the board and himself, to show how much she had fucked up. He tapped his black-gloved hand, feeling the wood and metal shake under each hit. A vigor traveled through him like he had never felt before.

 

It was the suit, and it gave him something he never thought he would experience again. Wearing the suit made him feel young again, but he felt conflicted. It told everyone he had personal interests outside the company.  

 

“You were supposed to have Homelander handled. That’s your job. So why is our boy exploding heads in ads and castrating other supes?” Stan stopped tapping the desk and leaned back against his desk. He smiled in a way that had disarmed many rivals. “Homelander ruined Flex Co’s reputation, you tried to force the owner to sign over his company, and then you used our political capital to audit them. Defend your job Ms. Stillwell; why shouldn’t we give you a generous severance package and send you home to raise your son?” That was business speak for fire her ass and make sure she would never find work again outside a McDonald’s drive-through.

 

“Does this have anything to do with your suit?” Stillwell said.

 

He remembered the video of Homelander punching the stuntman. That suit had been a subpar model created for the event. Stan wore the updated Cyber Suit MKIII Panther designed to be worn in perpetuity. While wearing it, he was far stronger enough to lift 100tons and could easily take tank shells. Even white phosphorus mines weren’t immediately lethal. The Cyber Suit MKIII was what troops would wear going forward if Homelander hadn’t fucked things up. Flex Co had been a small company Stan invested in, and after receiving the product, he approved it. The Senators in Congress would approve suits that anyone could wear, and it would get the military used to superhuman abilities. Superhuman abilities in the military, police, and even firefighters would be the norm in a few short years. Then they would take advantage of the changing landscape to integrate superhumans.

 

Normally he would worry about his blood pressure after feeling so angry, but the suit assured him his vitals were all in the clear. Flex Co had freed him from the ravages of old age, and he was begrudgingly grateful to them. That’s why he suggested Madelyn use Homelander for the ad in the future; they could equip their heroes with custom suits strengthening them further. He shouldn’t have underestimated Madelyn’s ability to fuck things up; that’s why he allowed her to rise so high. She made sure his position would always remain safe.

 

“Where Mr. Edgar chooses to shop for his attire is neither your concern nor that of the board so long as he represents us respectfully.”

 

“This isn’t Homelander lasering a terrorist or Queen Maive punching a hole through a bank robber’s head.”

 

“Sir, it’s A-Train he just ran through some girl; it was captured on a security camera.” Stan sighed.

 

The board joined him to stare at the Vice President of hero management.

 

“I will make changes to encourage them to act responsibly, but what are we going to do about the animation,” Madalyn said.

 

“It’s protected under parody law,” Stan said.   

 

“We will get Vought Legal on a defamation case; Flex Co is a small company that will cave and settle out of court.” Terry Prescott said.

 

“How long did it take them to reach their targeted goal?” Stan said. “I’ll answer that question in 6 hours. Do you think they created that animation overnight? No, they were ready for our partnership to fall apart and prepared something that would strike at Homelander. Now he’s castrating other heroes.” He looked over the board to ensure he had their attention. “Do you believe they are unprepared for defamation?” Stan asked.

 

 

The IRS man Don Walls had no chill and probably never smiled once in his life. After a 5-day audit, there was still no end in sight. Silas grinned at the man, who stared at their records as if something didn’t add up. He sat in Silas’s comfy chair, stared at the laptop on Silas’s cherry wood desk, and dank Silas’s coffee. Every few minutes, he went back to business expenses and hummed to himself.

 

It wasn’t good. Clearly, the man had seen something, but it didn’t add up. Sure, Lily used some of the money to go out on occasion; Yan loved to take trips on the company dime to strange places to eat people. Silas might have purchased a V4, but he had to play the Boy’s version of Kingdom Hearts, which was better than he expected.

 

“Why did you use company funds to purchase a cotton candy maker?” Don asked.

 

That was one of the few company purchases that he could easily justify. “To pay our animators.”

 

“Are you paying them less by purchasing items to compensate, like health insurance?”

 

“We don’t offer health insurance,” Silas said.

 

The man quickly wrote that down, and Silas was a little jealous of that.

 

Silas didn’t have a mind for taking notes. It would certainly make developing his spells and not treading old ground easier. He didn’t have a system making things easier anymore. He had many skills but couldn’t look at them to see what they were doing to his body. It was so frustrating something as simple as taking notes might be what he needed. Maybe he could hire the guy from the IRS.

 

“Why! Health insurance is expensive for individuals to purchase. If they have preexisting conditions, it's nearly impossible to get on good insurance.” Don said.

 

“Listen, Don, the cotton candy machine was the pay; my employees in animation only accept sugar as payment when cocaine isn’t available. They would see money as something tedious.”

 

“That’s slavery Mr. Flex.”

 

“Nah, they aren’t human, so it doesn’t count.” The man froze and looked back over everything. “We don’t call robots slaves.”

 

“I noticed you have an exceedingly low utility bill,” Don said.

 

“We aren’t on the local grid. My girlfriend Yan, she’s the tech-savvy one, installed a fusion reactor a while back.” Silas said.

 

“What are your staff a type of sapient robot?” Don asked.

 

“That is none of your concern; you’re here to audit my company because Vought’s Senior vice president of Hero management told you to.”

 

“I understand this is frustrating for you, but if you have technologies that drastically lower your company expenses, I need to know about them. Your numbers aren’t making any sense.”

 

Silas sighed. It would be easier to use charm and have the man fudge the reports, but he wouldn’t be turning over a new leaf if he did.

 

“What do you want to see?” Silas said.

 

“We can start with your animation staff and why they need an industrial cotton candy maker,” Don said and took a snarky sip of Silas’s coffee.

 

“They are busy animating A-train fuck Homelander. I don’t want to disturb such important work.” Silas said.

 

Don spat coffee all over his laptop and started spluttering. “Why would you do that?”

You are reading story The Flex Co Animation Agenda at novel35.com

 

“Did you hear the news about the Deep? All we had to do was animate Homelander sucking the man’s dick. Think what Homelander will do when A-Train fucks him in the ass.” Silas said.

 

“What did A-train ever do to you?”

 

“This isn’t about A-train or Homelander. Flex Co is a business, and as it happens, there is an open niche for gay supe animations. The people want what they want, and it happens to be Homelander being a gay bottom.” Silas said.

 

“Not if I stop you,” Don said.

 

Silas felt a disturbance from the wards, and the Gantz AI beeped at him. He shook his head Homelander was here and already in check. All he had to do was make sure his cameras were on.

 

Lily walked in before they could leave the office. “I’ll take the auditor to see the fairies you have,” Silas heard a slam. The red, white, and blue cape-wearing menace made his way inside, floating a little off the ground to make himself seem bigger than he was.

 

“Homelander, I loved you in Dawn of a Hero,” Don said.

 

Lily made herself scarce.

 

Homelander smiled. “Have you found the tax fraud yet, Ron?”

 

“My name is Don, sir, but you can call me Ron if you want to. From what I’ve seen, unless they hire an army of lawyers and accountants, the FBI will be swarming this place soon to claim all their new technology. They don’t have patents for half the tech they seem to have.”

 

“Ah, American tax dollars at work, it’s a beautiful thing. But don’t worry; I’ll keep an eye on them until the cavalry arrives; you did well here, Dan. Hoarding technology when it could be used to make America a better place is practically treason.” Homelander said.

 

Silas sighed and raised his gun. It was his trust X-gun from the Gantz universe heavily modified to make it a little more user-friendly.

 

Homelander grinned at the weapon. “What are you going to do with that? I’m the Homelander; you’re just giving me an excuse.”

 

Silas wasn’t about to reveal his actual hand while having fun with the auditor; this was serious. So, he decided to use an X-gun to test Homelander’s durability. He pulled the first trigger to lock onto the supe. Fortunately, the upgraded weapon adjusted its dial automatically to increase its power based on the target. The delayed explosive energy the weapon fired would calibrate to the target. Without some impressive regeneration surviving a shot from an X-gun was unlikely.

 

“Guns like these have killed tougher than you,” Silas said and pulled the second trigger. A powerful blow hit his glamour’s head, passing through it. Silas watched the attack, let it pass, and copied the stuntman’s head-exploding effect.

Homelander laughed. “Your suit still didn’t meet the Homelander seal of approval.

 

The supe smiled, and his teeth sparkled before suddenly gripping his head. Skin bulged as the energy did its job. Blood and a single eye shot across the room, but the blast failed to get through the blood-brain barrier.

 

Silas stood up from the safety of the room’s corner and turned up the dial. Homelander screamed and attacked like an angry bull elephant. The supe exploded the man with a single blow

 

“My face,” Homelander screamed. “My perfect face.” The man-child howled.

 

“I didn’t think it was that great.” The man shot forward and passed through another illusion. Silas actually stood around 4ft even, so Homelander’s haymakers and clotheslines weren’t doing him many favors. Nevertheless, Silas still gave the man the shower of guts he would have gained from each attack. Soon imaginary guts covered the man’s suit.

 

Silas picked up the man’s lost eyeball and tossed it in his inventory. His girl, that was all into biology, wasn’t in the states and wouldn’t be back for some time. Homelander moved his hand away from his wound, and already a new eye had half grown in place. The man had some impressive regeneration; he would give him that.

 

The X-gun easily kept a lock on the hero. He decided to slaughter illusions instead of retreating to assess the situation. Silas squeezed the trigger several times, aiming for the shit superman knockoff’s knees, chest, and head. Instead, a single eye blasted lasers across the walls causing runes to flash before going dim after canceling the damage.

 

Silas wasn’t a great planner; he was more of an opportunist. Sure, he made sure to stack the deck and prepare to take advantage of fortuitous occasions, but that was hardly planning. Homelander pissed him off, and he wanted revenge.

 

This wasn’t justice or anything pretty. At first, he just wanted to have some fun and mess with the supe. Show the god he could bleed and send him packing, but it worked too well. X-guns were built to kill super-powered aliens who were faster than the eye could see. The Gantz weapons were honestly broken as hell and more than enough to take out the likes of Homelander. After Yan upgraded them, their weaknesses weren’t as bad either.

 

Homelander’s knees, chest, and face exploded in a shower of gore, ruining the rest of a perfectly good imitation Persian rug.

 

Silas opened his mouth and realized he had nothing to say. Homelander was an annoyance, nothing more. So, he used telekinesis to lift the guy off the ground before tossing him outside on the street before calling the police. When he got the operator, he didn’t know what to say.

 

Once he knew an ambulance was on its way, he had an idea. Silas had Gantz print Homelander a Homolander in place of his original, took a picture of the supe, and posted it on Twitter with Hashtag coming out of the closet. Silas’s account was banned instantly.

 

 

 

The police had come and gone; his video had been released on v-tube and struck down immediately. Some guy called Bill the Cleaver had downloaded it, and bot accounts continuously played the video. The blood and guts were in full view, and Homelander’s head was exploding. Don, the auditor’s death had been declared an accident, and the president of the United States had already pardoned the man. Nick Sanchez was officially on Silas’s shitlist.

 

“Gantz, replace the desk.” The old desk was recycled by Gantz’s recycler function before an exact replica was printed. Silas watched the bottom of the desk form first as the desk was made bit by bit.

 

Lily rolled in on some roller skates and tossed him a tumbler full of the good stuff. He took a long drink and enjoyed the bitter delicious taste.

 

“The fairies have the new animation finished. We could create a new tier on Patreon for people who want to see our videos early.” Lily said with a smile.

 

He felt a phantom pulse from his greed skill. That was the problem with going from one system to another. Screens didn’t pop up, informing him about the changes going on with his body. He still had all the skills he collected as an adventurer system user, but he couldn’t see the fine details. Lily wasn’t bothered because that was the norm in her plain of hell. They had devices that kept up with that, but Yan was busy with their other projects to try her hand at making an interface.

 

“Yea, let's double dip if they are paying us to see Homelander get fucked; they aren’t buying his action figures. Speaking of merchandise, how goes the homo lander mini sex dolls with moaning action.”

 

“Hasbro isn’t taking our calls. Our idea for a parody of Optimus Prime fucking Homelander with a robot dick only got a no. Oh, and there is this.”

 

Lily handed him a letter, and he opened it with a fancy jeweled letter opener from his recently reprinted desk.

“Vought sent us a demand letter for defamation. Apparently, leaving out the the from The Deep’s name wasn’t enough to be considered a parody. So who do we have to represent us?” Silas asked before she handed him an invitation to a party in Vought celebrating Starlight’s induction into the seven. “Now, these are just mixed signals. I know Vought fucked us, but why are they acting like a flighty girlfriend.”

 

“Silas, what do you know about flighty girlfriends. None of us are human; to me, you’re the flighty one. You jumped dimensions, and it took forever for you to summon me. Do you know how many warlocks I had to eat to prevent a permanent familiar binding after the dungeon?” Silas opened his mouth and closed it. “Three, that’s three chances to have all the fun I could ever ask for.”

 

“Lily, this is serious; we don’t have an answer to a defamation lawsuit. I can’t charm an entire courtroom.” Lily gave him an unimpressed look. “I can, but I shouldn’t. I’m trying to be good. No planet-wide mass murder orgies to raise charisma. I’m trying to be good.”

 

“Ok, I’m not human, and even I know there is a big difference between murder orgies and charming a judge.”

 

Silas sighed and sat on his desk because he hadn’t asked Gantz to print a new chair. He stared at the Cyber Suit MKIV Panther. The custom model multiplied his strength far beyond the upper limits of the original suit. If he went all out with it, he might be able to stop Homelander. The earlier fight was against a Homelander off his guard, a state of being Silas planned to keep him in. A blood-lusted or thinking Homelander was something to fear. A dumb cocky Homelander was a negligible threat. If Homelander got his hands on a suit, the man would be impossible to deal with. Silas would have to go with a hard suit to stand a chance, but he didn’t want it to come to that.

 

“I’m not sure if I do; this world isn’t that different from the dungeon's first floor. With my charm skill and some demon summoning, I could wipe the planet of life in a weeklong party.” Silas said.

 

“Don’t threaten a girl with a good time,” Lily said. “Oh, there is one more letter.”

 

“This is an invitation to a weapons expo,” Silas said.

 

“I already agreed on your behalf and rented out a booth. We can show off an X-gun, X-shotgun, and the Cyber Suit MKII Panther.” Silas nodded and felt a little better about their situation. They only needed to hire a law firm to deal with Vought, go to their party, and then impress a weapons expo. What could go wrong?  

 

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