Sue Storm Wears A Suit That Protects Her From Porkum

The environmental encounter suits that Reed Richards had designed for the Fantastic Four's voyages into the Negative Zone were the state of the art—lightly armored, advanced chemical/biological/radiological filtration, completely sealable, and capable of operating for two hours on an internal air supply. Capable of operation underwater or in the hard vacuum of outer space.

Which should, Sue Storm thought to herself as she settled the clear helmet over her head and snapped it into place. Mean that Porkum's pheromones won't be able to affect me. I hope.

"Mrs. Richards. I cannot recommend this course of action. We do not know the full capabilities of Porkum. It is not clear if the biological filter on the encounter suit will be entirely effective," H.E.R.B.I.E. said. "If the sensors cannot detect and filter his pheromonal emission in time, you may be affected before you can switch to your internal air supply."

"I know that, H.E.R.B.I.E.," Sue said, as she tapped the code into the Fantastic Four's armory. Bolts clunked and the doors slid aside to reveal the small arsenal of high-tech weaponry that Reed Richards had designed and built. Each weapon had been made for a specific purpose, a specific foe. There, the sonic rifle used against the Venom symbiote. The Coma Cannon. Batches of Pym particles. A replica of Mjolnir capable of high-intensity electrical discharge.

"That's why this time, I'm going to be prepared."

Midnight in Manhattan. Porkum moved his bulk down an alley. An electronic card provided by Doom undid the electronic lock on the door. He grinned at the cameras. There was no night watchmen at the factory tonight. No one to watch those cameras. They could record him all they wished, but no alarm would sound, and no one would interrupt tonight's activities. Better still, they were still recording. Ready to catch all the action, as soon as Sue Storm turned up.

The mutant moved with surprisingly soft steps through the mostly-empty factory. They had timed his incursion to between shift changes. When no one would be around the central marshmallow mixer. He moved with purpose, down corridors and up stairs, to the catwalk that went right up to the edge of the great vat. His balls felt tense and full. He'd held out from jerkin' off all day just to be ready for tonight. He'd need all of his seed for this little stunt.

His small, triangular pink ears were lifted to catch every sound. The closer he got to the vat, the more his senses strained. Snout snuffled to find any scent of her underneath the smell of chocolate and sugar. Porkum's tongue extended and he licked the air. He was positive that there was no way Sue Storm could have ignored his challenge. She would be here—if she wasn't here already.

Yet there seemed no other way to bring her out than to get down to business.

Porkum stretched his great pink prick out before him. There was a metal safety railing, but his great pink trouser snake could easily extend out over the huge vat where soft, white semi-molten marshmallow was constantly stirred. Ready to become a new generation of mallomars. With a soft grunt, he began to jerk his shaft. His arching balls arched back and forth. It wouldn't be long—

The report of the sonic rifle was like standing in front of the speakers at a Metallica concert. Porkum couldn't hear his own scream as his eardrums suddenly burst, his skull filled with white noise. Blood dripped from his ears as he staggered backward, eyes wide. The catwalk was narrow. There were only two places Sue Storm could be. Yet he couldn't hear her. Couldn't even smell her.

He picked a direction and charged.

The invisible bar was set at ankle height. Inertia, and then gravity, sent the great pink villain head-over heels down the stairs toward the factory floor, where he landed with a crash.

"Sue Slut," Porkum grunted, as blood oozed from his nostrils and ears. "Is that all you got, goddess? Come here and suck my fat prick you stupid blonde bit—"

If Porkum could hear, he could have heard the crackle of electricity as the false Mjolnir built up an ionic charge. As it is, he caught a whiff of ozone. Threw himself aside at the last moment. Only caught a fraction of the electrical bolt that slammed into the floor where he had laid a moment earlier.

On his feet, the injured pig-man squeezed in among the piping, the shadows of the factor floor. His small dark eyes flit one way then the other. Looked for any hint of the Invisible Woman's position.

Yet Porkum was thinking two-dimensionally. Invisible, Sue Storm crouched near the ceiling, like her old friend and ally Spider-Man. Out of range of Porkum's hands, his pheromones, and his cock, which still jutted out in front of him, like a pink baseball bat.

"CUNT!" Porkum yelled...and then gagged as an invisible apple filled his mouth. Sue grinned as she launched herself forward. She slid down on an invisible slide, the hammer in her hands. Unseen, unheard, she picked up speed, aimed the blow just right.

The hammer slammed into Porkum's inflated scrotum.

Which exploded.

The **** of the blast caught Sue off-guard. She was thrown off her invisible slide and slammed into the side of a tank. Covered head to toe in white goo. The encounter suit's sensors went mad, biohazard signs flashed, cool air hit her as it switched automatically to the internal air supply. A sudden headache stabbed into Sue's brain as she manifested an invisible squeegee to scrape the goo from her helmet's visor so that she could see.

What remained of Porkum lay in a tangled heap. Yet the fleshy pink folds had largely burnt away, to reveal complex electronics and an endoskeleton underneath. Sue Storm frowned as she stared down at her hated foe in disbelief.

"He was a robot? How—"

Then the real Porkum stepped out of the shadows behind her and struck.