"What, all of them?"

"Yes, sir."

"Even the smartass one?"

"Yes."

"The uptight one?"

"Yes."

"Surely not the hot one?"

"I'm afraid so, sir."

"Seriously? Bummer. How about the weird one?"

"Him too."

"Wow. What about—"

"Sir, forgive me, but I think perhaps you may not have quite grasped the central core of my opening statement. They are all gone. All of them."

"Every single one?"

"Every single one."

"Okay, right. Hang on, what about the buff one?"

"Sir, there are several buff ones. Well, there were."

"Yeah, but you know who I mean. The really buff one. Wasn't he supposed to be immortal or something?"

"Yes, sir."

"Right. And?"

"And it turns out he wasn't."

"Really? I dunno, what's the world coming too when so-called immortals go around kicking the bucket on you? So, they truly are all gone."

"Yes, sir."

"Phew-ee, I'll be damned. You know, this is gonna be a PR nightmare when the public gets wind of it. The common folk don't rest easy without someone in Lycra watching over 'em."

"No, sir. Which is why we'll ensure news of their disappearance is managed appropriately."

"Well, it's a hell of a shame, I gotta say. Kinda makes you wonder what bozo thought getting 'em all together like that was a good idea."

"Wasn't that you, sir?"

"Huh? Wasn't what me?"

"The bozo in question, sir. The one who thought getting them all together would be a good idea. I seem to recall you were quite enthusiastic about a concentration of force. I believe the phrase 'let's rain us some super-duper-shock-and-awe down on those dumbass mofos' may have been used."

"Uh...really? Are you sure? Doesn't sound like something I'd say. Still, anyhoo, we need to take the positives out of these things. To look on the bright side. After all, they took out the bad guys, didn't they?"

"Yes, sir. Unfortunately, they also took out downtown Milwaukee and themselves in the process. But after a thorough investigation of the site we can confirm the threat has indeed been eliminated. The world is once again safe. For the moment."

"Right. Well, that's good."

"Indeed, sir."

"Hang on. You said 'for the moment'."

"I did."

"Well, what the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Just that, sir. Although the recent threat has been dealt with, if history has taught us nothing else, it's that there will be others."

"History? That old thing? Pfft. You had me worried there for a second. There's no future in looking backwards, young lady."

"Is that so?"

"Course it is. History can go suck it. Now, if there are no future threats for us to worry about, I reckon we're done here. I've got budgetary committees all afternoon and lobbyists up the wazoo. I'm a busy man."

"I'm sure you are, sir."

"Damn straight. And yet you don't seem to be leaving."

"No, sir. Because, you see, there is a future threat looming. In fact, it would be fair to say these days there is rarely a time when there is not."

"Seriously?"

"Seriously, sir."

"Well, that sucks."

"Indeed it does. Particularly given that the collection of beings critical to our defence against, shall we say, more exotic threats has now been eliminated. Leaving us largely helpless against whatever happens to come along next."

"Young lady, the United States spends the best part of a trillion dollars every single damn year on defence. You call that helpless?"

"Against conventional enemies, sir? Perhaps not. Against aliens or interdimensional entities or assorted assailants from the underworld, on the other hand? Against the kinds of hazards my organisation encounters on an all-too-regular basis? Yes, I do. And I'm sorry to have to remind you history backs me up on that."

"Yeah, yeah. I guess you've got a point. The whole 'when in doubt blow it up' thing has never really gone that great for us against those kinds of perps. I keep telling the Joint Chiefs it's just 'cause we need us some bigger bombs, but do you think those clowns will listen? Like hell they will. Some days I dunno why I bother. Anyway, until I manage to talk some sense into 'em, why don't you just go ahead and round us up another bunch of super-freakazoids? I'm owed a few favours up on the hill, so I'll make sure we sling you folk an extra billion or two, just to expedite the whole process along a bit. Sound good?"

"No, sir."

"Fine, fine. Let's call it five billion then. Now, if you'll excuse—"

"Sir, funding is not the issue, although your contribution is of course gratefully accepted. No, the problem is that the well has run dry. Super-freakazoids, as you so charmingly call them, do not grow on trees. Well, actually, there was...never mind. The point is, we cannot simply rustle up a new roster of them with a click of our fingers. These people are exceptionally rare. And, for the moment at least, America has run out."

"Oh, come on, little lady. It hasn't been that long since the Milwaukee thing. You guys can't possibly know that yet. You haven't even had time to look."

"Sir, we are always looking. Always. It's a fundamental part of what we do. There is nothing and nobody left here of any significant tactical value. And you know what that means."

"I do? Oh yeah, I do. Time to get us those bigger bombs, baby!"

 "No, sir. What it means is we need to turn our attention further afield."

"Right. Makes sense, I guess. What, Montana or Maine or such? Out in the boondocks?"

"No, sir. We need to extend our search to beyond the borders of the United States."

"Not Hawaii or Alaska, surely? Things can't be that bad."

"I'm afraid we need to look even further afield than that."

"Huh? Sorry, not with you at all there, miss."

"Sir, we need to look in countries other than the US."

"Countries other than...? Don't be ridiculous. Why the hell would you waste time doing that? The kind of folk we need always come from the good ol' US of A. Always have, always will. Stands to reason."

"Sir, might I remind you that more than one of our recently departed heroes were actually of alien or immigrant origin? In some cases both?"

"Yeah, but...I mean, even those ones came to America. They knew this is the place to be. Even the damn bad guys come here. Why do you think New Yorkers have an alien-attack exclusion on their home insurance and we've got that ridiculous inflatable White House on standby for the next time the place gets blown to hell? Our heroes have to be American. It's...it's...traditional!"

"Perhaps, sir. But tradition will only get you so far when lizard-people take over the Pentagon and orcish sorcerers from the fifth dimension are turning your tanks into jello. At times like those you might find you're not quite so fussy about the kind of passport your saviour has tucked down the back of their tights."

"Maybe, little lady, maybe. But that's a chance I'm willing to take. I'm afraid you're just gonna have to look a little harder in your own backyard. We can't have you folks running around the world uncovering who knows what kind of super-foreigners. After all, if other countries go getting their own heroes, they might just get a little uppity. They might start to forget who's the boss and we can't have that. No, I'm afraid I won't permit it."

"Well, that's a shame, sir. In part, because it confirms me in my growing suspicion you're a myopic xenophobe with the tactical nous of a bowl of overcooked fettucine, but mostly because I don't give a flying ferret what you do or don't permit. Given my organisation operates outside the jurisdiction of any government, American or otherwise, I am here today purely as a courtesy. And if we're not soon provided a better quality of politician with which to liaise, it's a courtesy we may well reconsider. The only reason we bother is because if it all goes tits-up and we need a country evacuated or a continent quarantined, then you're the poor saps who'll get lumped with both the work-order and the bill. Capiche?"

"What...I...why, how dare you? This is an outrage! I'll have you locked up for treason. I'll have your funding stripped. I'll—"

"With all due respect, sir, kindly shut your hole. You'll do none of those things. You need us and you know it. Even more so after the Milwaukee debacle. Now, given your tenuous grasp of the situation, you'll probably be pleased to hear our preliminary investigations suggest most of the world is little better off than America in their superhero stocks. I'm afraid the majority of extant foreign talent is either engaged in what might generously be termed free enterprise or has been enlisted by local organisations of varying degrees of iniquity, leaving us precious little to recruit. There is a promising lead in South America and a handful across Europe and Africa but I'm afraid that's almost it."

"See? Didn't I damn well tell you America is...? Hang on. Almost? Just what the hell do you mean by that?"

"Precisely that, sir. Most of the world is tapped out, when it comes to beings of sheer raw super-aptitude, the stuff of myth and legends, ready and waiting to be nurtured, guided and then sculpted into the heroes and warriors our world needs. Most, but not all. Curiously, our scouts have discovered one little corner of the world with a surprising abundance of potential talent. A corner long overlooked and looked down upon, a place regarded as something of a backwater, maybe even, to use one of their very own colloquialisms, as the arse-end of nowhere."

"Hang on...I thought you said it wasn't Alaska."

"And indeed it isn't. Because, you see, that would the ass-end of nowhere, if you get my meaning."

"I don't, young lady. I really don't. At all."

"Never mind, sir. I'm sure that's something you're used to by now. In any case, the place I'm talking about is Australia."

"Australia!"

"Australia."

"You cannot be serious."

"I'm very much afraid I am, sir. We've sent two of our best people to investigate. Well, they're not strictly ours. And when I say 'best'... In any case, they're enroute, as we speak."

"Really? But...I mean...Australia!"

"I realise it's a little surprising, sir. But you know the old saying."

"Butter my butt and call me a biscuit?"

"Uh...no, sir. Not that one. I was thinking more along the line of beggars can't be choosers."