LESLIE WILLIS VS PARALLEL X (DC DAMSELS IN DISTRESS)

A ringing and lively voice rang on Metropolis radios. The "Leslie Show" was one of the city's most popular radio broadcasts. Leading it was Leslie Willis, a young and unscrupulous speaker who had no hair on the tongue. Politicians, showmen, sportsmen: nobody was spared by the sharp criticism of the woman. But lately one particular person was Leslie's favorite victim: Superman.

Leslie's day hadn't started off on the right foot. Her old stereo had decided to go crazy and so she had to get ready and leave the house without the daily dose of black metal. To tell the truth, Leslie's days started very late, never before noon. In fact, between DJ sets, parties and concerts with her band, Leslie used to stay up late. The night before she had just performed with her band, "The Blacksnakes", in a small but well-known club in the city. The concert had been crackling. The public, in fact, also dragged by the precise but energetic drum of Leslie, had left the place enthusiastic. As cherry on the cake, she and the whole entourage of the Blacknakes had improvised a party, in which alcohol and drugs abounded. In short, Leslie had fun. But she had come home at noon, so she had slept no more than a couple of hours because she had to go to work.
Somehow she was in the studios of the radio station at 4 pm. Wetropolis LXL had its headquarters in one of the many skyscrapers of the city. Leslie led in front of a magnificent view, since her studio was located on the higher floors. Obviously she was broken: she had slept very little and was in a hangover. She certainly couldn't face 3 hours live in that state. She went to the bathroom, locked the door, lowered the toilet seat and placed a strip of white powder on it. When she got out of the bathroom, the tired-looking Leslie had given way to another who was radiant and full of energy. The cocaine had taken effect.

She hit the red button. She was on air.

She could give vent to her polemical and provocative streak. On the other hand, it was the thing that made her feel more alive, more than music, more than sex, more than drugs. In the studio with her was Lois Lane, a charming journalist invited as a great supporter of superman and perhaps something more. The superhero was in fact the target of the episode. Leslie knew her way.

"Lois, how do you explain that in recent years, despite the presence of Superman, the crime rate in Metropolis has increased by 17%, maybe she's not that much super?" Lois was annoyed by the tone of the question, but when she accepted the invitation she knew what she was going against. "Recent studies say that without Superman's contribution the crime rate would have increased by 24%, so ..." the speaker interrupted her. "You intellectuals always talk about studies, numbers, science, but why don't you go down the streets and talk to people?" "Actually we at Daily Star do it all right, above all ..." she was interrupted again.
"What matters is people's perception, what they feel, what they fear, not your stupid studies"

"Actually, people's perception is often quite distant from reality, according to studies ..."
"Again these damned studies! How boring."
Of course Leslie Willis didn't believe in anything she said, but she knew that that way of expressing herself and those thoughts were able to attract a large audience. Moreover, the purchase by Lexcorp had moved the editorial line of the radio towards more conservative shores. And the substantial salary increase had done the rest. In short, Leslie had willingly chosen to do without her intellectual honesty.
"Do you know what Martin Luther King said? Never trust those who have no taste in dressing." She had changed the subject.
"I don't think he ever said that," the journalist rightly objected.

"Let's face it: how ridicolous is that costume? Red, blue, yellow. Who chose the colors, a 6-year-old boy? And that ridiculous tights? It's so tacky!"
"The arguments are ludicrous and..."
"Oh look, it's time for publicity, see you soon Metropolis!"
The two women took off their headphones. "That's not fair!" Lois Lane said pointing her finger at the speaker. They were so different, starting with the style and clothing. The reporter wore an elegant blue business suit, a white skirt and a pair of pumps on her feet. Leslie had a much more transgressive look, though without exaggerating. Black ruled: from hair to lipstick, as well as from the tank top that left the navel uncovered to the torn pants. On top she had a leather jacket, also black.
At first she didn't answer, lit a cigarette and put her feet on the table.
"Come on, don't take it. It's all a game." The conversation ended there.
Stay Clean by Motorhead ushered in the start of the second block of the program.

Leslie cleared her throat and started talking.

"Now get down to brass tacks, Lois, is it true that you're having an affair with Superman?" Lois Lane jumped out of her chair. "What are you insinuating? I categorically deny it." Her voice had become slightly shrill and her face had taken on a reddish skin. "Come on! how do you explain all your scoops, your exclusive interviews? Do you want to tell me that you are a journalism ace? And why didn't they call you at the New York Times then?"

"I don't accept jokes or misleading about my professionalism and my private life. Superman is ..." Lois Lane stopped talking, but this time she hadn't been interrupted by anyone. She stopped because she was shocked: Leslie Willis, who had been in front of her a moment before, had vanished into thin air. After a few seconds of dismay the producer of the show intervened and launched the advertisement again.

Leslie was chattering: she was dying of cold. Her bare feet were sinking into the snow. What happened to her shoes? But above all, what the hell was she doing in that ice-covered winter landscape? Leslie thought it must be either at the north pole or the south pole. As if that wasn't enough, she wasn't even wearing the leather jacket anymore.
"Welcome Leslie, I introduce myself: my name is Parallel-X," said a cavernous voice.
"Good morning," she replied, stammering.
"I know you will be confused right now, I will try to clarify your ideas a little." Meanwhile, the girl's waist had been wrapped in a strange metal ring attached to a cable that disappeared into the ocean, a few steps away. "You are in the world that I have just created. But don't worry, in a few minutes you will be back in your beloved radio studio. The only drawback is that you will be back a lot in pain. But do not feel unfortunate: you are neither the first nor the last to end in my clutches ".
Leslie, after a moment of disorientation, found her solemn swagger. "Listen asshole, I don't know who you are, but if you try to touch me and you don't immediately bring me back I swear that AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH !!" A terrible pain assailed her. The ring on life was shocking her.

Parallel-X watched the scene in total silence. Leslie's screams didn't seem to stir him any emotion. Meanwhile, electricity tore her clothes and burned her skin. "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH..."
Torture was finally over. Leslie fell to her knees, she was almost completely naked. Tears streamed down her face as urine flowed down her thighs.
"Thanks Leslie" was the only comment from Parallel-X.

Then that world of snow and frozen water disappeared and she was back in the studios of Wetropolis LXL. Thus the emptiness.

A week had passed and Leslie had decided to return to the air. It had been difficult days. Physical pain had passed almost immediately, but the psychological shock had been impressive. Cynically, however, Leslie understood that it was an additional opportunity for visibility. Her career could have changed. Would the public believe her? It didn't matter. But she had found an important and unsuspected ally. Lois Lane had decided to write an article about what happened, on the other hand she was a witness in the momentary disappearance of the speaker and her screams. Superman had also confirmed everything, Parallel-X existed. He had also told her not to talk about it in order to avoid the spread of panic. She had decided not to listen to him. Her professional ethics forced her to write about it. She was also not the only witness present in the studies. So at this point, why not to pick the opportunity?
"Dear citizens of Metropolis, you may have wondered where your favorite radio host went ..." Leslie Willis was live. “Well, I was the victim of a terrible accident, an accident that could potentially happen to any of you in the times to come. I was kidnapped and brutally tortured by a diabolical character named Parallel-X. I don't know who he is or where he comes from, but I know what he wants: to spread terror and pain ... "The speech occupied the entire three hours of transmission. Obviously Leslie had fictionalized some facts, exaggerated some details, other things were completely fabricated, of course. But the key point was unfortunately true.
The fuse had been lighted.

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