Right, kids?
And that's how I defeated Kite Man.
Any questions?
- Yeah, Canadian tuxedo. - Do you have a pet?
I do have a pet. That's a great question.
I have a pet named Eagly. He's an eagle.
Do you have a origin story?
Let's go. Bets right here. Let's go. Let your money talk.
You dumb fuck, you killed your brother!
You killed your brother, you piece of shit!
Previously, in the DCU...
Truth is, I'm supposed to be in prison.
- For what? - Superhero shit.
- What superhero are you? - Peacemaker.
- What were you in prison for? - Integrity.
I made a vow to have peace,
no matter how many people I have to kill to get it.
Your dad's White Dragon costume, right?
How is it so big in this place?
It's a quantum unfolding storage area.
It leads to a dimensional nodule outside normal space.
Well, I guess your dad's pretty brainy for a racist.
And if your dad's a racist and you work with him...
I don't work with him! He makes me stuff!
I hesitate giving you any helmet
as big a simp as you turned out to be.
You know you don't have to call me Peacemaker.
You can call me Chris.
I have no interest in you other than your ability to fight for us.
I thought you were in prison for life.
How did you get out anyway?
I work for the government, okay?
- Post office? - Dude.
I kill people for them, okay?
Huh? Sick.
Eat peace, motherfuckers!
You know, lately I'm just thinking I'm a fucking maniac.
Like, I don't know, I'm having feelings about things that—
I don't think Chris is ever gonna be happy
as long as his father's around.
I knew you was unclean when you killed your brother!
You killed my brother! You killed Keith.
Well, go ahead and do it, you fucking pussy.
You'll never be able to get the fuck away—
I read your file, Chris.
It was an accident. You were a child.
Stop letting that shit define who you are.
Dude, we're saving the world from a fucking alien invasion.
The whole team is injured, so I was thinking, like,
maybe you could call in the Justice Gang.
I have a real bad gag reflex.
Oh shit.
You know, one time I puked all over Green Lantern, I was—
I got seasick from flying on a green magic carpet.
The weird thing is he fucking liked it.
You're late, you fucking dickheads.
- What a meathead. - Screw that guy.
You know he tells people I'm a puke freak?
The Peacemaker and the costumed crime fighter Vigilante
were working in a deep cover operation
for the U.S. government called Project Butterfly.
It's been running for years out of Belle Reve Prison
under the command of Amanda Waller,
who happens to be my mother.
Eagly.
Come on, dude. Stop it.
What?
It's too cold outside. It's too cold outside. Jesus!
There, Eagly. You want to fly, fly.
It's just too damn cold to take you outside.
Hey.
Mornin'.
Fuck you then, you Cryptkeeper-looking bitch.
Eagly?
Eagly, come on, bro.
Eagly, taking an awful lot for granted.
I don't work for you, dude. Okay?
Just because I'm out of prison and we spend a lot of time together
doesn't mean you determine how that time is spent.
The one fucking day I don't take you out,
you wake me up like I'm your fucking slave.
We need to start making clear who's the human
and who's the eagle. I'm the human and—
Dumbass. What are you doing?
You okay, pal?
You sleepwalking again?
You look like you've seen a ghost.
THE TIES THAT GRIND
SIX MONTHS LATER
It's still weird seeing you come out of your old man's house.
- Mine now. - Hell yeah, it is.
Hey, Keeya call you back?
Sorry.
Girl can't deal with me being me.
- That's her problem. - Deffo.
Shit. I mean, I'm about hardcore shit now.
That's what I do.
Her not being able to accept that
is like her not being able to accept me, right?
I don't know. Maybe she just doesn't want you to die.
You've seen me handle myself.
What, you think I look like I'm gonna die?
- Maybe. - Get the fuck out of here.
Okay, Charles Bronson.
Come on, man. You know I got moves.
I'm just saying.
We all might die, okay?
Happens every day to people tougher than you.
- And you. - No, not often.
You know, people as tough as me, they normally die of old age.
- That's just stats. - Jesus.
I almost forgot. I got business cards.
Check them out.
Oh, that is...
really...
cool.
- Who's the woman? - That's me.
Okay. Well, she's, um, kind of...
- Gaunt. - Damn, man.
You really killing my vibe.
Talk to Harcourt lately?
'Course. We hung out yesterday.
She's mostly forgiven me for airing out
Task Force X's dirty laundry on TV.
Did she say anything about...
Like what?
I don't know. She say anything, like, about me or anything?
Like what?
I don't know.
No.
Hey, Ads. Thanks for driving me.
Happy to do it.
Sometimes, these guys can kind of be up their own asses, you know?
- Metahumans? - Yeah.
Sometimes, they say some not-so-great shit.
- Like what? - I don't know.
Just like I'm stupid.
That I'm wearing a disco ball on the top of my head.
And they'll be like, "Hey, why'd you take a vow
to be a douchebag at any cost?"
And they'll say, "Hey, the first season
of Jersey Shore called, it wants its haircut back."
As if a fucking TV show could call you on the phone.
Just fucking stupid stuff. I can't remember much.
I know it's 'cause my muscles are bigger than theirs,
but jeez, right?
You're a superhero now.
You saved the fucking world.
Yo, are you sure this is the place?
I think.
Yeah.
I don't want to be a joke anymore, Ads.
This is all I've ever wanted, you know?
To be a real hero.
Are you for real?
They're gonna be doing backflips to get you to join.
Welcome, Peacemaker. I'm Maxwell Lord.
My company, LordTech, finances the Justice Gang.
With me are two of our founding members,
Green Lantern and Hawkgirl.
Hey. It's really nice to meet you.
Guy, great to see you again.
Uh-huh.
- You can have a seat there. - Yes, sir.
Would you like to be called Peacemaker,
or do you prefer Chris?
- Either's fine. - The mic is off?
Yeah. Mark that down as indecisive.
- Where? - There.
- Here? - No, there. Look.
How'd I get stuck with this job?
You're the only one whose handwriting is legible.
Chris, can you tell us a little about your skills?
- My skills? - That's right.
What sort of skills would you bring to the Justice Gang?
Besides blowing dudes.
Shut up, Guy.
I'm considered the finest marksman in the world.
Not just with firearms, with any weapon, really.
Yeah, he murders people. Write that down.
- Where? - I am also...
proficient in hand-to-hand combat.
Volatile tendencies.
Guy, chill out. I've got it handled.
I have a variety of helmets.
Put it under sociopathy there.
Each one has a different power.
Peacemaker, we at the Justice Gang
try to avoid casualties.
Metahumans like the ones in our organization
are becoming more and more distrusted,
and we can't afford to stoke the fires.
I know, I know.
It says here you served time for first-degree murder.
Yes, that's true, but—
And that you have killed dozens of other people.
Most of those are for good reasons.
- And which ones weren't? - Excuse me?
Which people did you murder not for good reasons?
Well, um...
I'm gonna be honest.
I haven't always been discriminating about violence.
But lately, I've been coming to terms with the...
the trauma I had as a kid.
Here we go.
Is that popcorn still here?
My brother Keith dying in front of me.
Oh my God, dude.
You love popcorn.
The culture of violence imposed by my father.
It's low on calories.
Plus, my butt's been getting really big lately, so...
I don't wanna be like that.
You know, I don't wanna be, like, ruled
by my past experiences and anger.
My butt's not big enough.
Honestly, when I'm naked, it's just like a line.
And I've always said I cherish peace with all my heart
no matter how many people I need to kill to get it.
How many more of these do we have today?
The West Coast has been a wash.
- Excuse me? - This guy sucks.
Excuse me. Um, this is gonna sound weird,
but am I supposed to be able to hear you guys?
Excuse me?
You know, just... like a while ago,
you said I was indecisive and then...
you brought up violent tendencies.
And just now you were all
talking about your butts and stuff.
And also, you said that I suck.
- Do you hear me now? - Yeah.
And... now?
Yes.
Fuck!
It is not funny, motherfucker.
How long has this been like this?
I'm guessing all day.
All day? Who set it up?
- Guy. - Whoa!
No, hey, I am not an A/V guy.
- I had Stan do it. - The bodyguard?
He is more than just his occupation.
God damn it, Guy! He is not paid to—
What do you want from me?
Mr. Smith, Peacemaker, I apol—
Oh my God, how many times
did I mention that rabbit woman's camel toe?
I must have said it 30 times.
Didn't go so well?
Apparently, one of my skills is sucking dick.
- What? - That's not a put down.
That's a fucking compliment. Fuck them.
I don't want to be in their lame group anyway.
What the fuck?
After poring over your résumé,
examining your past 18 years working in the intelligence field,
as well as the extensive interviews I've conducted
with your coworkers throughout those years,
and, of course,
our lengthy sessions together discussing your life,
I've come to the conclusion
you suffer from a particularly severe form
of toxic masculinity.
What?
I have a fucking vagina.
I assumed.
How could I have toxic masculinity?
Ms. Harcourt, I have to say,
I find the insinuation that only men can suffer
from toxic masculinity a bit sexist.
- Sexist? - You have every symptom.
You suppress your emotions.
You're aggressive and prone to violence.
Oh yeah? That shit's in the DSM-III there?
- The toxic masculinity? - The DSM-5 now.
You do your best to maintain a hard appearance.
So my face?
I'm getting some sort of a bullshit...
- You maintain hyper-independence. - ... non-existent diagnosis
based on my face?
I'll give you a diagnosis based on your face?
You're a fucking cunt.
Come on, man. You don't have to write that shit down.
In England, cunt means friend.
The NSA has entrusted me to decide
who does and who doesn't have the psychological wherewithal
- to be employed by the agency. - My record is exemplary.
I served my country.
I did everything, everything that it asked of me.
At the CIA, here at the NSA, at ARGUS.
Ms. Godfrey, please escort Ms. Harcourt to the lobby.
And now you come at me with this nonsense
as some sort of rationalization
for what we both know is really going on.
Amanda Waller may be facing congressional hearings,
but she still has enough power to black-book me
from every intelligence agency in America.
- Ms. Harcourt. - I have only been trained
to do one thing my entire life, Doc.
So you tell me what the fuck am I supposed to do now?
What a fucking life.
I just want to say,
I don't think what they're doing is right.
I'm grateful for what you did with Project Butterfly.
Not all of us are on board
with the way they're handling this.
Fuck!
Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!
Hey.
Jesus, what happened to your hand?
Nothing. I just, uh,
beat up my dashboard a little bit.
That motherfucking thing had it coming.
Yeah. Last time I was in that car,
I was playing some Spin Doctors,
or Thirty Seconds to Mars, or some shit.
I was gonna kick its ass then,
but you two seemed like you were on good terms, so...
I am not on good terms with Thirty Seconds to Mars.
How dare you?
- So how's it going? - Peachy.
Yeah. That's the vibe you're giving off.
I mean, I don't even know why I asked.
So what's up?
Not much.
Just, uh, you know, in the neighborhood,
wanted to swing by, see how your interview went.
Perfect, yeah.
Now I've been turned down by the NSA
as well as the CIA, FBI, DIA, and DHS.
The entire fucking alphabet of intelligence agencies.
I don't need that.
Yes, you do. You gotta ice it.
There.
Adebayo's the one who outed Waller anyway.
Why is she torturing me?
She can't take it all out on her daughter, I guess.
If it makes you feel any better, my interview also sucked.
It doesn't. Obviously, I know you wanted that superhero thing.
So that's it? That's why you came?
Yeah.
Okay. Thanks, I guess.
Unless there was something else you wanted to talk about?
Like what?
- I don't know. - Okay.
What happened the other night or something.
On the boat?
- What, that party boat? - You remember now?
I remember I didn't want to go on it.
Seemed like you wanted to go on it then. Like, vigorously.
No, I didn't. I told you. I don't like boats.
I don't like parties.
Why the fuck would I want to go on a party boat?
I was speaking metaphorically.
We went on an actual boat, though.
You know what? Fine.
You agreed to go on the boat 'cause I told you the views would be nice.
I was talking about when we were on it.
When we were on it, I was drunk.
Yeah, so was I.
Well, maybe you don't remember much either.
- I remember most of it. - All right.
Well, then you probably know more than I do that it was fine.
It happened. Whatever.
But it was also a mistake.
You remember a whole lot for not remembering.
Not much. Alcohol and fuckups both foster amnesia, thank God.
- Fuckups? - Not sure what else it would be.
Good?
All right, Chris, whatever.
If that's what you want to think, that's fine.
But it's also the end of it.
Fine. I don't know when— why we're on all this anyway.
The only reason I came here is to ask about your interview.
- It went shit. - Great. Great. There's my answer.
- Yep. - Great. Trip well worth it.
- Bye. - Bye!
Hey, Adrian.
Dude, listen.
- It's an owl. - Okay.
- Northern saw-whet. - What?
That's the kind of owl it is.
Dude, I know a shitload about owls.
Okay, I can't talk right now, man. I'm working.
Hey, you moved back from Belle Reve yet?
Yeah, but I can't hang until tomorrow.
- Quiz me. - What?
About owls.
Look up owl facts and then see if I know the answer.
Okay, hold on.
Dude, I'm like Rain Man, but with owls.
Okay, Rain Man, here's one.
Are owl's eyes orbs or tubes?
- Orbs. - Nope, they're tubes.
Fuck off, how can they be tubes?
I don't know, that's what it says.
Well, how do they stay inside their heads?
Why don't they just spill out onto the floor?
- I don't know. - Well, you think
every time you're stepping through the forest,
there'd be owl eyes everywhere if they were tubes.
- Veins, I guess? - What?
They're attached by veins?
Sure.
All right, give me another one.
You don't know anything about owls.
I do, though. Fuck.
All right, well then, what do you want to talk about next?
Nothing.
Have you spoken to Peacemaker?
Just through email.
He seems bummed-out lately.
I think he thought that after saving the world,
everyone would finally treat him like a— like a hero.
Hey, Adrian, what are you doing?
I'm on the phone, Dave.
What does it look like I'm doing?
Quote-unquote "Dave" is here.
Well, get back inside, man. Your section is a fucking mess.
Dave was way cooler when he was a dishwasher
- back when we were friends. - We were never friends.
Then why did I go to your wedding?
Because you showed up fucking uninvited, Adrian.
I guess I gotta go.
Oh no, shoot.
Great conversation, though, right?
Yeah, it's probably even better than yesterday,
or the day before that,
or every single day since I moved to Belle Reve.
Yeah, well, they're all pretty good.
Adrian, you fucknut!
I am coming! Chill out, you fucknut!
Why are you saying the same thing I just said?
Words belong to you now?
- What? - Sorry, I didn't know
you copyrighted fucknut.
I did, and you owe me a billion dollars every time you say it.
Oh, fuck.
Economos.
- You seeing this? - Yeah.
Anything unusual from your vantage?
No.
Approach and investigate.
Copy that.
There has to be a solution.
This is the third metahuman escape
from Belle Reve or Arkham in the past two months.
We've got to find a way to protect people
from what is rapidly becoming
an existential threat.
- General Flag, sir. - What is it, Bordeaux?
Remember that January thing?
- The Christopher Smith thing? - The glitch?
I'm not sure it was a glitch because it just happened again.
It's similar to what we picked up this summer in Metropolis.
The Luthor Incident?
Permission to access your computer, General.
Who's surveilling the house?
Former black hat by the name of John Economos.
- Oh, right. - You put him in charge.
No, I remember, yeah.
Excuse me. I questioned it because...
'Cause he was close to the subject.
I don't know how close John Economos can be to anyone, sir,
but yes, they worked together in Task Force X.
Economos, it's Flag.
Hey, dude, I'm outside the house right now.
You see anything unusual?
Define unusual.
Oh, why do you always have to be an asshole, Economos?
I don't know, probably because I have some major
chemical imbalance issues, sir.
- John! - No, nothing overly unusual.
- What the fuck? - What?
It's nothing. It's just people having sex.
- Like an orgy. - What?
- Group sex. - No, I... I heard you.
Jesus, what is it with this cat?
Christopher Smith is notoriously free-spirited.
- Is he one of them? Smith? - One of what?
One of the people in the orgy.
Yes.
All right. Stay on high alert.
Let me know if anything else comes up.
Copy.
Send in another agent to watch over Economos.
- I do not trust him with this. - Yes, sir.
And let's move this case to ARGUS Priority One.
Priority One?
Yeah, we need to figure out what this blip is about.
Last thing we need is another dimensional rift
tearing up this planet.
What are you doing out here?
I thought you were in Blüdhaven.
Keith?
You okay, man?
No...
You smell like a distillery.
You out with the boys?
Yeah...
What are you knuckleheads doing?
Chrisper, I thought you were in Blüdhaven.
Yeah, that's what I said.
Well, the three amigos are together again.
I believe that calls for a celebration.
Yeah, that's pretty clear thinking for a man of such advanced years.
Why, you, I oughta...
Pow, pow, pow!
Hey, here, old man, before you get hurt.
Hey!
- What? - Nothing.
"Nothing, nothing."
Reminds me of the time when I came home.
What were you, like, 12 years old or something?
Here we go.
And there's Chris running around the house.
He's being chased by 30 of these knee-high—
What the hell do you call them things?
- Imps. - Imps, yeah.
Running around.
I go, "Chris, what the hell are you doing?"
He looks at me and goes, "Nothing."
Nothing?
Oh my God.
It was a week before Keith told me.
- No, I didn't want to narc. - Chrisper's rummaging
around the munchkin dimension
eight doors down.
They're not munchkins, Dad. They're imps.
Trying to nab one of them giant peppermint sticks.
I found a dead, rotting imp inside the Dodge engine block,
like, three months later. I cannot stress how fucking bad
it smelled.
You think that's bad.
The next morning, I was eating my Cheerios,
and there's something sticky in there.
I think one of those little fuckers jacked off
- in there or something. Yeah. - What? No.
No. That didn't happen. I don't remember that part.
That's the famous Auggie embellishment right there.
Yeah, and it's your fault.
You gotta love that boy.
Life would have been a lot easier...
But half as much fun without him.
More importantly, Dad,
how many goddamn imps you gotta fight
- before you remember... - Hey!
- ... what they're called? - Fuck those imps!
Bud Light.
You got a problem, Jack Sparrow?
It's just a compliment, babe.
Oh yeah?
There a time you whistled at some chick and she said,
"Thanks for the compliment,
I suddenly find your cum-soaked beard
and micropenis energy hot. Let's fuck?"
Willing to bet no, right?
In fact, I'm willing to bet no one's ever fucked you
for any reason other than money or fear.
Bitch is looking to get swatted.
Yeah, you are.
Calm down, lady.
Oh shit!
Stay down, you fucking nutjob.
What the fuck is wrong with you?
Dang, girl!
Bye, bitch.
I gotta go to bed. I got a big day tomorrow.
- Night, Pops. - Night, son.
I love you.
Love you. Love you too, buddy.
You still talking with the ex?
- The ex? - Yeah.
What's up with you tonight?
No, I haven't—
I gotta say, I think you blew it with that one, bro.
I think you should give that another shot.
I mean, I know she's with that...
jarhead and all, but...
- Yeah? - Yeah.
All right. Good night, brother.
Keith.
I love you.
Get out of here, you drunk asshole.
I love you too.
What is it?
It's a magic tunnel.
A magic tunnel?
So, you don't know what that is?
He's never told you anything about that?
No! How do you even know about it?
ARGUS has been monitoring Peacemaker
ever since Rick Flag Senior was named director.
Does he know Chris killed his son?
Yeah, so he's wasting taxpayer money
having him surveilled 24/7 in the hopes that he screws up.
And a couple months ago, Maridal radar picked up
an anomalous signal coming from his house.
Maridal detects known extraterrestrial
- and ectoplasmic energies. - Yeah, I know what it is.
We thought it was a glitch.
And then yesterday, it happened again.
And that's when I saw this.
Hello, I'm fucked.
Right.
So, what do I do?
I mean, it's Peacemaker, you know? He's like...
- Your friend. - Now that's pushing it,
but I don't wanna totally screw the guy over.
But then I think about you.
Me?
Yeah, you tried to help him,
and now yours and Harcourt's lives
are completely fucked.
Yo, I'm not fucked.
You're living in the worst level of Grand Theft Auto.
That's because Keeya kicked me out.
And because you shared top secret information
with the press, and now you can't get a job
at fucking Athlete's Foot.
Athlete's Foot is hiring?
Maybe.
Follow up question.
Does Athlete's Foot still exist?
Yes, there's one in the Terrytown mall.
That's comforting.
Look, you need to talk to Chris and find out the story
before you go sharing shit with ARGUS.
You can't do him like that.
Look, if anybody sees me talking to him,
I could get fired.
It could be ARGUS testing me for all I know.
Now I get it.
- What? - You ain't here for no advice.
Fine, I will talk to him and see what's up.
Just— just AirDrop me the photo.
All right.
Okay.
Did you AirDrop it?
Yeah, there you go.
- Oh my God, bro, really? - Oh shit. Nope.
No, no, wrong one. Hold on.
- God damn. - That's not my dick.
Who the fuck are you?
I can explain.
Hold on, man. Just—
I don't know if you're a shapeshifter or what.
Just—
Breaking and entering into a man's home?
That's solid justification for me—
Activate magic stars.
Can't be looping Spin Doctors in with Thirty Second to Mars.
Spin Doctors is so good.
Oh, jeez. Anybody's better than Thirty Seconds to Mars.
That garage band I was in for two seconds
is better than Thirty Seconds to Mars.