The Pliable Paladin..... "Birthday Boy"
Plastic Man #1 - February, Year One	by James Hickson

August 7, 1941, 11:05 PM

Patrick "Eel" O'Brien sometimes wondered why he didn't just go straight. There had to be better ways of making a living than breaking into warehouses or holding up gas stations. He could become…uhhhhhh…well he could be a…hey, he could join the army! But then again "Eel" was never one to take orders, and even less a one for dying, and with the wars in Europe and the Pacific, he didn't figure it would be too long before the U.S. was in it. He would rather take his chance with the draft than volunteer for anything. Then again it was times like last night that made him wonder if maybe OD green wasn't such a bad color.

And yet here he was again that night, this time breaking into some kind of factory, called Crawford Chemicals, and the day before his birthday no less. Eddie was the one that had heard about the place, how they supposedly had a safe full of cash in the office, and some other stuff they could steal. Though looking at the place, Eel thought maybe someone was playing a joke on Eddie, or maybe Eddie was playing a joke on him.

He turned around as he heard Paul pop the window with a crowbar, and saw that he was half way through the window, followed closely by Eddie, whose large round form was having trouble fitting in the slightly smaller square hole. Eel placed a shoe on Eddie's backside and gave him a good push, sending him the rest of the way through and landing with a loud thud, which Paul was quick to shush.

Eel climbed through the window and took his place beside Paul and Eddie, who were looking around at the place. He took this moment to look around himself, the place looked a little better inside then outside, but not much, it was a large building filled with conveyor belts, and steel vats, filled with bubbling concoctions that were giving off the most awful fumes.

The fumes were so bad that Eel had to ask, "Eddie, is any of this stuff dangerous?"

"How the hell am I suppose to know, do I look like a chemist to you?" Eddie replied

"No, Eddie you always looked more like a plumber to me, specially from the back." Eel quipped

"Will you too shut up, you wanna attract the guard," Paul snapped "Now Eddie, where is this office we's looking for?"

"Umm, well, it ahhhhh…" Eddie stuttered

"You did ask where the damn thing is didn't ya?" Paul asked starting to become enraged

"Well I was just excited about the money, and all and I had had a few to drink, and and" Eddie tried feebly to come up with something to say.

"Jesus, Eddie it'll take us all night to find it in a place this big." Paul was now fuming and it was obvious he was trying hard not to shout.

"We could always split up, when one of us finds the safe, he could signal the others with bird calls." Eel suggested with a big grin.

"Whatever, O'Brien, just get moving, I want to be out of here before sunrise." Paul said and headed off, as did Eddie in a different direction, and Eel in another.

Eel found the fastest way to look around the place was to take to the catwalks, but he still hadn't found anything, except for a dirty bathroom and a janitor's closet. He was beginning to give up, and go welcome his birthday in a bar, but then he heard footsteps behind him. He turned around to see a white haired old man in security guard uniform pointing a gun at him. Eel tried hard not to laugh, he knew he should be scared, but the guy had to be like 90 or something. He doubted the old guy had enough strength in him to even pull the…

BOOM!

Oh damn.

Eel felt a sharp pain in his chest. He looked down to see blood streaming out of a hole near where his heart should be. He started to feel dizzy, he reached for the railing to steady himself, but found none there, instead he began to fall, he felt his feet separate from the floor and he knew had fallen off the catwalk, and he continued to fall thinking that this was the end of his life, until he landed with a splash into a vat of green liquid and began to sink, the green stuff started to fill his mouth and he felt some go down into his lungs, he started to wonder if he would die of blood loss or drowning.

Wait, he was Eel O'Brien, the irrepressible Eel O'Brien. He wasn't supposed to die like this. He was to die an old man, surround by grandkids upon grandkids, and that wasn't even suppose to happen until he was 125. He wasn't going to die here at only 32, about to be 33. With ever ounce of strength he had he made himself kick again and again until his head reached above the liquid, and he gasped deeply for air. Reaching out his left hand grasped the side of the tank. He didn't even notice that the hands on his watch had stopped, or that they had both stopped on twelve. Happy Birthday, Patrick O'Brien, from this point on life will never be the same.

60 Years Later…

"Get out!" Mrs. Sourtree screamed as she threw a flowerpot at her tenant.

"Come on, Mrs. Sourtree! Calm down before you do something I might regret." The tenant said as he craned his neck out to a remarkable length and angle to dodge it.

"Get out, O'Brien! I've had it with you! Wild parties and loud music until all hours of the night...I've had it!" She replied and reached for another potential projectile.

"I've told you already that's Mrs. Martin next door." Eel O'Brien replied defensively as he dodged a lampshade.

"How dare you accuse that sweet old woman? She's 79!" Mrs. Sourtree replied, now more enraged than ever.

"Hey, technically I'm 93 and you're accusing me!"

"OUT, O'BRIEN, or I'll call the police."

"But I'm a member of the Justice League! Doesn't that count for anything?"

"I don't care if you're a member of the freakin' Royal Family, I want you out or I swear I'll have you arrested."

"Okay, Okay, I'll leave...Just give me some time to pack."

"You got 30 minutes, but then I want you out." Mrs. Sourtree replied bitterly and stormed out of the apartment.

Thirty minutes later, Patrick "Eel" O'Brien was out on the street, carrying a suitcase, and bidding adieu to the Quality Apartments Building, the dump. He started debating his options: immediately find a new apartment, find a hotel room, crash at a friend's apartment, or get drunk at Hank's. After thinking about it for less than a second, he started out for Hank's. But he never made it there, because as he was walking there, he noticed something following him out the corner of his eye. When he looked he saw that it was a black limousine. Once it was obvious that they had been spotted, the limo pulled up along side of him. The window rolled down and an attractive redheaded woman stuck the upper half of her body through the window frame.

"Excuse me, Mr. O'Brien, I represent Argon Chemicals. We would like to make you an offer." The woman said, appearing slightly nervous, as the car was still moving to keep up with him as she did this.

"Shoot." Eel replied as he continued his trek to Hank's

"Well, actually I think this conversation might be much easier if we conducted it in the car, don't you?"

"Whatever you say, beautiful." Eel replied, walking towards the car as the woman opened the door, and started climbing in, then stopped as he then noticed the vehicle was also occupied by two large men who looked like their cereal of choice was Steroid-O's, as well has a well dressed blond man who would easily be a middle aged male model. "Ummmmm…actually you know what, I think I have a dentist appointment."

"Mr. O'Brien, we do not wish harm to you or any of your associates, we simply wish to discuss matters of business." The blond man was the one to speak; he seemed pleasant, trustworthy, and honest. He almost looked like he could teach Superman lessons on being a boy scout.

"Uh huh...And what are Hans and Franz here for?" Eel asked, indicating the two large men who were positioned in a way that they faced towards the front of the limo.

"I am an important man, Mr. O'Brien, and many people might wish to use my wealth for illegal ends, I do not wish to give them that opportunity."

"Okay, I'll buy that." Eel replied taking the indicated seat between the two large men.

They remained silent for a long moment as the car limo started on its way; it was the blond man who again broke the silence. "So, you are the famous Mr. O'Brien, also known as the hero Plastic Man."

"That's me, but you can call me Plas, or Eel, but don't call me Shirley." Eel replied hamming it up for the new, although small audience, especially the redheaded woman.

"Yes, well my name is Ian Argon You might have heard of me...My company recently acquired a local called Crawford Chemicals."

"Crawford!" Eel exclaimed with a bit of shock.

"Yes, I thought that might mean something to you. I believe that was the company responsible for your present condition." Argon replied as evenly and calmly as before.

"Would they like a thank you? Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you, Crawford Chemicals!" Eel replied enthusiastically as he put his arms in the air and wiggled them like he just didn't care.

"Actually it's Argon Chemicals now. Tell me, Mr. O'Brien, just how much of your body do you believe is made up of our chemicals?"

"I don't know 25, 35 percent?" Eel replied forming his head into the shape of a question mark.

"Actually, our estimates say 51 percent."

"Yeah, so?"

"Well the way my lawyers and myself see it, since you were in the process of stealing from the company at the time of the aforementioned incident, those chemicals in your body still belong to Argon Chemicals."

"Uh huh, and what you plan to do about it?" Eel asked cautiously, subtly increasing the bulk of his body.

"Simply give you a chance to repay the debt, Mr. O'Brien."

"And how is that?" Eel asked, still increasing his bulk where he started to a lot like the two gentlemen sitting beside him.

"Simple, Mr. O'Brien. My company is looking for a representative, a…"

"Mascot, since you are one of the most famous products of Craw… I mean Argon Chemicals. Plus the fact that you were recently accepted to the JLA is always a plus." The redheaded woman who had been sitting silently next to Argon during the whole conversation had now decided to speak.

"Forgive me Mr. O'Brien, I've neglected to introduce Ms. Powers, our new head of advertising." Argon replied, though seeming slightly annoyed at being interrupted.

"Pleasure to meet you, Mr. O'Brien." She said extending her hand.

"The pleasure is all mine." Eel replied and extended his own hand but instead of shaking her hand he bent down and kissed it in an obvious attempt to be charming.

"Ms. Powers will be your manager of sorts, arranging appearances and your, I'm sure, already quite busy schedule. That is if you agree to represent us." Argon said appearing amused by what Eel had just done.

"That depends on the perks," Eel replied

"Ah, yes. Well, we will provide you with a fully furnished apartment within our building, as well as anything else you may request." Argon replied

"And no catches, right? Just promotional stuff?" Eel asked

"Exactly, Mr. O'Brien. No catch. So do we have a deal?"

"I think we do." Eel replied with a grin.

"Perfect, now let's go take a look at that apartment, shall we?" Argon replied with a smile filled with charm.

Eel O'Brien followed Ms. Powers off the elevator; he had just been to Ian Argon's office, where he had signed his contract. The room had been filled with at least a dozen of Argon's lawyers, there to look over the proceedings. It really wasn't Eel's kind of party, one of the lawyers had to explain the contract to him. He followed it as much as he could and when he was satisfied with what they told him, he signed on the dotted line, and asked about his apartment. That was where he was heading, following Ms. Powers' swaying backside the whole way.

He was told that the apartment took up most of the 12th floor, but he had no idea of the grandeur of the place until he got there.

"OH MY GOD, A FLAT SCREEN TV!" Eel cried as he stepped into his new apartment. It was a well-furnished place with a large living room leading into a large bedroom, and large kitchen. It was a place fit for a king, but instead would be home to a jester.

"Mr. O'Brien, I think we should discuss your schedule. How is tomorrow for you?" Ms. Powers stated as she consulted her Palm Pilot, while taking worried glances at the majority of Eel's body, which was still standing next to her, while his head explored the apartment.

"Don't call me Mr. O'Brien! My friends call me Eel," he shouted from the kitchen as he was looking around in there.

"Fine, and you can call me Penelope," she called back as she continued to fiddle with the palm pilot.

"Your friends call you Penelope?" he asked shortening his neck until he was looked at her face to face.

"Well, that is my name," she replied quizzically

"Well, I'll call you Penny. It fits you seeing as you have red hair and all," Eel replied as his head went back on its tour of his apartment.

"I'd really rather you wouldn't," she replied, again looking worried.

"Whatever you say Penny," he replied as he head headed into the bathroom. "Hey, a Jacuzzi, AND ANOTHER FLAT SCREEN TV!"

James Powers Hickson III