The Hall of Justice Is Under Attack

When Wonder Women entered the Hall of Justice, she was expecting another typical day in Metropolis. What she didn’t know was that this was a day of reckoning. Today, she would face one of her greatest challengers. We call her, “Taevy.”

To celebrate the Halloween Season, we took our children to Six Flags New England to trick-or-treat and experience the family- friendly happenings of Fright Fest 2008. But neither ghouls nor goblins, witches nor zombies captured my daughter’s attention as much as the prospect of meeting “the real” Wonder Woman. (My apologies to Linda Carter!)

We waited patiently in the Hall of Justice, chatting casually with Batman, Flash, and the Green Lantern. The attendant, a college boy who took his job surprisingly seriously, introduced the children to the posters of villians on the wall, and educated them about arch-enemies.

“Where’s Wonder Woman?” Taevy asked the attendant.
“She’ll be here in about 10 minutes,” he answered. “Why don’t you go ride the Cat Woman coaster while you wait?”

My male companions, hubby and friend, were more than happy to wait by the Cat Woman statue while I rode the coaster -- three times. (Apparently, she not only has a great set of boobs, but an ass to die for as well!)

When we returned to the Hall of Justice, Wonder Woman was just entering the room. Now having been to Six Flags many times, I expected my daughter and her friend to pose for a quick picture and then head to gift shop where they would beg me buy it for $20.

But this time, my six-year old had other plans.

“I really like you,” she told the young Wonder Woman. “But there’s a problem.”
The teenager smiled and did her best to get into character. “What’s that?”
“Well, I was you for Halloween last year because I really think you’re pretty. But Cheetah Girl is really pretty too, and she’s your arch-enemy. I don’t think you should have an enemy. You need to get a peer mediator so you can work it out.”

Wonder Woman looked suddenly concerned. There is, apparently, no script for this conversation.

“Cheetah girl does some mean things,” Wonder Woman said.
“Well, it’s not so nice to tie people up with your lasso, either,” my daughter countered.
“So what do you think I should do?” Wonder Woman looked desperately around for some assistance. Where are those other Super Heros when you need them?

I looked too, but the red bat phone was nowhere to be seen.

“I think you should start teaching Cheetah Girl to be a Super Hero,” my daughter said. “Invite her to the Hall of Justice. Have a playdate.”

It was all I could do to keep from laughing.

“Um... I suppose we could do that,” Wonder Woman said. “Hey! Would you like to have your picture taken with me?”

My daughter shook her head. “Not really. Maybe next year. You and me and Cheetah Girl can all take a picture together.”

As we exited the exhibit hall, I whispered to the befuddled Wonder Woman: “Look out. Justice has a new name...”