He bent his mind to his task, thinking of little else save his goal. Disguise. The perfect disguise. Not for himself...but for his victims. His real name was unimportant to the world at large. To the handfull of heroes he'd faced, he was only "Proteus, Man
of a Thousand Faces". He'd bedeviled the Justice League once (issues 187-188 back in 1981), neatly handling the most powerful members as he'd brought his mighty mind against them...against their identities...their memories...their very sense of self. They'd
been easy victems at first, surrendering their identities and accepting the ones he'd given them for a time. Superman had become (both physically and mentally) a dull-witted, hard-drinking construction worker, Wonder Woman a fat, middle-age waitress in a dorwnmarket
diner, Zatanna an elderly bag lady.
And it had been the product of his invention. The "Identi-Factor" had the ability to change both the physical and mental aspects of it's target, forcing new identites on a person and closing off all memories of the past.
Still...this version of the "Identi-Factor" was better...more powerful...and he was ready for revenge. His new device - concealed in his mask, so he could transform anyone he looked at - was ready...
Well, almost ready...because if he couldn't handle Lois Lane, he wasn't going to be able to take on the whole Justice League.
Lois stood over the outlandishly garbed man (face and hands stayed white, but his tunic and cape kept shifting and changing colors) and aimed her gun at him. He'd suprise her in her apartment, but she'd quickly gotten the drop on him, throwing him to
the ground and shouting "Don't move, creep! One flinch, and I'll shoot you in the leg."
"Oh, please...don't do that..." he'd said, sounding like he was begging...as he turned his face towards her...and a flash of light engulfed her...erasing her...
...shaking her big fake tits, rolling her hips and jiggling her big, plump butt at the crowd of yelling, drunken men. Where was this? Oh, right...it was the strip club she'd been workin' at fer like, ever. Well...ever since she'd dropped outta school,
run away from home an' got des great, big tits wit' th' money she'd saved from suckin' cock an' fuckin' dudes. Yeah, why'd she ferget dat? She spun an' grabbed th' pole, leavin' a snail trail on th' stage as her pierced cunt dripped juices. Stripping was fine,
and she loved it...but what she loved more waz fuckin', an' she couldn't get no real action till she got offa th' stage.
The song ended, an' she wiggled into the crown, lookin' fer a guy what wanted t' bang her. She kept getting asked if she was old enough t' do this, an' she always said "yeah, I'm like...21" which was a lie. Only 18, she'd fallen far in just a few years,
and the bar owner had helped her get her fake ID so she could work and drink in his club. Sometimes she'd see her big, bottle-blond hair with it's dark roots, or all her dirty tattoos (lots og guys names) and she'd think something was wrong, then realise it
was totally right. She was the same nasty, filthy underage slut she'd always been. She was Lulu Lalane...she could remember it very clearly. Lulu Lalane shook her tits and wrapped her fat, colligen-injected lips around a strangers shaft and started sucking
as soon as the twenty was stuffed into her g-string. She moved on her six-inch heels like a natural, and though her makeup-slathered face was pretty...it was also vapid and empty. A stupid, underaged slut with big fake tits...forever. Even if she could somehow
remember her past, she'd always have the personality and body of Lulu Lalane...and all Lulu wanted was sex, money and booze.
Proteus had been pleased with the total effect of his Identi-Factor, and he'd driven the unconsious girl into the slums of Metropolis and left her at the club she now worked at. His device had always been capable of total, solid changes, and just as he'd
programmed...the newly minted Lulu had a job and a history at the club. She'd been working there for a year now, and everyone knew her. He'd smiled as she'd woken and started chatting with the bouncer like old friends, then he'd returned to her apartment.
He made one call using Lois Lanes voice - "Clark? I need your help." - and sat in the dark to wait. It wouldn't take Superman long to get here. He'd long sence figured out most of their real identies...and now, he was ready for the man of steel. He wondered
what he'd change him into...who he'd be...and as Supermen flew into the open balcony, saying "Lois?", he saw a flash of light...