Tales of the Parodyverse

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killer shrike
Sun Nov 14, 2004 at 07:38:04 pm EST
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The Adventures of Alcheman #13
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The Adventures of Alcheman #13


“The Importance of an Education”


Previously: Private school civics teacher Michael Wooster was granted tattoos that enabled him to transform into a wide variety of chemicals and compounds. He has begun a career as a superhero known as Alcheman. Meanwhile, M.O.U.N.T.-E, a robotic agent of the Royal Canadian Mechanized Police, is tracking down a pair of dangerous criminals: fellow Robo-American the Efficienado and villain-killing Scourge of the Parodyverse.

Like many young men, Michael Wooster was inspired by a picture of Lisa Waltz, albeit in this case the inspiration was of a different sort.

He noticed the poster as he sat of the Paradopolis S-Line subway, dolefully looking over his lesson plan on the historic Supreme Court case Gibbon v. Ogden in preparation for class. It was a PSA, with Miss Waltz decked out in what appeared star spangled bondage wear, holding a crop and warning the viewer to “Vote, or I shall be very cross,” which, to Michael, seemed to mix the message but still it gave him an idea. He fished his notebook from his briefcase and began writing up a lesson that he hoped his students would find more relatable than one about two hundred year old shipping rights.

*****


Mr. Papapadopolis was on his way to work as well, parking his car behind the Bean and Donut Coffee Bar and getting ready to start his day. It was nice to come in late after being able to see his children off to school, as his morning waitress was kind enough to open for him. It was amazing how a young lady could spend all night out and still have the energy to prep the kitchen for the breakfast rush. But Sarah Shepherdson was a unique young lady, to be sure.

The elderly gentlemen abstained from using the diner’s rear entrance, as his curiosity had been piqued by the construction workers he had noticed while driving in. They were congregated at the abandoned storefront just up the block. Mr. Papapadopolis went over to meet the new neighbors.

“Hello,” he walked to the one who seemed to be in charge, a giant of a man who wore an expensive grey suit and held architectural blueprints in his scarred and ugly hands, “Please to meet you. I am [inaudible because of car horn] Papapadopolis, owner of Bean and Donut Coffee Bar.”

“Yeah, I know who you are,” the man smiled unctuously before giving some orders to the foreman. Then he turned back to give the immigrant entrepreneur his full attention. If possible, his grin became even more insincere, “You’re just in time.”

“Time? For what?”

It soon became evident what the thug meant, as the workers activated the winch to raise up the business’s sign to the roof.

To the gaping Mr. Papapadopolis, the Starbucks logo seemed like the Death Star rising.

“See you in the unemployment line, Pops,” Killer Shrike snarked as he passed, jumping into his double-parked Jag and speeding off to his next appointment.

*****


Mr. Wooster started his class off with a journal assignment, a five minute writing exercise based on a topic written on the board. Today’s was meant to introduce Michael’s last minute brainstorm of a lesson:

Define Super Civics.

“Who wants to go first?” Mr. Wooster asked his class of juniors once time was up.

Steadman Fleck raised his hand and asked a now too familiar question, “What does this have to do with the Advanced Placement test?”

“Absolutely nothing, Mister Fleck,” Michael kept his smile even, and called on another student. “Yes, Miss Gastranov?”

“Well, if civics is the study of the rights and responsibilities of citizenship, then super civics must be… the rights and responsibilities of super citizenship?”

“Yes. Very good. So what does that mean?”

“The jobs they do. Fighting crime. Saving the world.”

“Right, Mister Harwoodley, but let’s go beyond that. What are some non-traditional ways that superheroes act as productive citizens?”

De Brown Streak and his activities supporting mutate rights.”

“He’s not a superhero, he’s a mutant terrorist.”

“One man’s terrorist is another man’s freedom fighter.”

“Let’s avoid labels for now,” Michael interrupted, “and remember that civil disobedience is a right of citizenship. Good example, Mister Fleck. What are some others?”

“CSFB! using his position as Mnemosyne Media’s spokesperson to promote liberal causes.”

“Mayor spiffy. And Dancer’s charity work.”

“Mr. Epitome writing government policy, even though he’s not an elected official.”

“There’s Congressional oversight with Epitome.”

“Yeah, right. You’ve been drinking the red, white, and blue Kool-Aid, man.”

Michael concluded the brainstorming session, “All right, I think we all get the point. There are many examples of super humans affecting the country’s status quo beyond just fighting crime. And the reality is we will probably see even more of them. The TransWorld Challenge has elevated the visibility and popularity of the Lair Legion to unprecedented levels. And we have seen how success as a celebrity can to lead to success in policy. How much of the popular vote could Visionary get in the upcoming election, if he were on the ballot?”

There was a moment of contemplative silence and involuntary shuddering.

“And with that thought, your assignment: break into your teams and pick a subject to research and review. Write a 250 word summary on how it relates to the topic, and the way you plan to present your findings to the class. We’ll regroup and discuss in fifteen minutes.”

The classroom began to fill with the sounds of educated rhubarb, as Michael’s students moved to their clusters and began debating the assignment. He headed to his desk with a slight smile of satisfaction that his plan worked.

*****


Inspector Rosario Hudson was happily at work as well, punching in the head of her assailant. Fortunately for him, he was a Robo-American Version 2.1, which meant his Central Processing Unit was located in his chest cavity. Without his audio and visual capacities, he was unable to protect himself as M.O.U.N.T.-E finished dismembering him, then she clamly took off her jacket.

“You boys better go,” she told the robot’s flesh and blood henchmen, “unless you want to end up like Humpty Dumpty here.”

The hoods quickly bolted, leaving Inspector Hudson alone with her attacker. She twisted her right ring finger, an action that extended her diamond edge micro saw. Once activated it Rosario set to work on the robot’s steel plating. She got a big enough hole to allow her access to her modem cables, which unspooled from the back of her neck. Once she hacked in to the suspect’s memory and began her interrogation.

“Ferris Steel, I am Inspector Rosario Hudson of the Royal Canadian Mechanized Police. I have some questions for you.”

“Oh, Gates, you’re a M.O.U.N.T. model!” the program replied fearfully.

“Model E, actually,” the Mobile Optimal Utilitarian Nascent Technology clarified, “And you’re Ferris Steel, wanted techno-scavenger. And when the jury gets a look at the illegal hardware you’ve got warehoused here, a convicted one.”

“So what do you want from me?”

“I tracked down a mainframe registered to one of your holding companies. The one you use to let robots upload forbidden programs.”

“That was you who busted up my Buffalo operation?”

“Yes. I’m looking for information on a client of yours. He goes by the handle Efficienado.”

“Yeah. I know him. He’s a servitor unit, Class 7 chassis. That’s higher than you, right?”

“Stick with the exposition, please,” Rosario requested, but Steel was right: chassis class denoted the overall strength and durability of a Robo-American, and a 7 meant her target was only three grades lower than the maximum, which was Ultizon level.

“Efficienado went for some software upgrades, tried to take apart his whole CPU. But the guys doing the job botched it. His programming’s got some flaws.”

“Besides the obvious anti-social tendencies,” the inspector noted dryly.

“Yeah. He’s got a logic loop, makes him obsessed with, well, with efficiency. Things have to be done in a certain way in a certain time frame, or he reboots.”

“Good to know. Do you have any known addresses or associates on hand?”

“On hand? What, are you trying to be funny?” the limbless android snapped, “But yeah, I can get you some information.”

“Very good. Thank you, Mr. Steel. I will be calling for a salvage crew once I’m offline with you.”

Rosario retracted her cables and stood. She knew more about the who, now she needed to learn more about the how, why, and most importantly, the where.

****


This is what the Efficienado knew:

Candia’s theoretical physicists have determined that sufficient amounts of kinetic energy released in Canada’s Ley line vertices points would allow the countries to switch their respective places.
A U.S. Navy fleet ballistic missile submarine carries 24 Trident ballistic missiles.
Each missile carries several nuclear Multiple Independently-targetable Re-entry Vehicles (MIRVs).
One such submarine, the U.S.S. Limpet, was berthed in the Paradopolis Naval Yard under heavy security.
The location of a possible ally to help him secure control of the Limpet.
How to fly a 747 jumbo jet.

It was this information that would allow him to achieve the objective that has been denied him for too long. All he needed now was the directions to the airport.

*****


“That’s the fourth hairpin you’ve broken,” Jenni Wooster counted to her sister, who crouched on the steps of their brother’s brownstone and swore like a sailor after failing once again to pick the lock on the front door, “Potty mouth.”

“Quiet. I’m trying to focus.”

Jenni hopped from one foot to the other, “Quickly, Trudi, I need to p-e-e-e-e.”

“Your conversations have become quite scatological lately, Jenni. No more South Park for you.”

“I’m not being scatological, I’m wholly serious. If you don’t get that door open I’ll burst from all those Bellinis,” Jenni thought for a moment, “Didn’t Michael give us a key?”

“He didn’t give me one,” Trudi grunted as she tried once again to jimmy the lock.

“Oh,” Jenni became very sheepish, “I think he gave me one.”

Trudi Wooster bounced up and swiftly snatched away her sister’s purse, “Your opacity is becoming vexatious,” she said before dumping its contents onto the walk.

Pouting, Jenni shot back, “Why all the big words suddenly? Dating a thesaurus salesman?”

“Hardly. I’ve been listening to those “improve your vocabulary while you sleep” tapes. So when I finally gain, er, entrée to superhero society I won’t sound like a country bumpkin. Aha!” Trudi held up a set of keys triumphantly and set about determining which one opened her brother’s door.

“I don’t think superheroes like smart women. Look at Lois Lane: she can’t even figure out Clark Kent is Superman.”

“And you’ll notice, sister dear, that Superman has expressed no interest in Lois. In fact, when it was time to give out presents, he gave the jewelry to Jimmy Olsen.”

There was the sound of rushing air and an athletic figure joined the sisters on the doorstep.

“I hate to interrupt this brilliant reinterpretation of the Superman mythos,” De Brown Streak confessed to the fetching young blondes, “But would either one of you happen to be M. Wooster? Please?”

*****


“This is what I learned while working for the Hooded Hood,” Simon Maddicks announced while quaffing a scotch and soda, “One plans ahead.”

“Yeah?” Big Thick Eddie seemed genuinely surprised by this information. He sat on the two stools beside Simon, the only customer at the Fatal Toilet so early in the afternoon.

“Yeah. I could have taken the money I earned for my part in the TransWorld Challenge and blown it all on a six month bender in Vegas, but that wouldn’t have been smart.”

“So you decided to buy a Starbucks franchise instead?”

“That’s only phase one of my plan,” Killer Shrike objected, “I’m going to use that place to ruin the diner across the street. Just run it into the ground.”

“Why?”

“Because the dame that works there, this waitress, I owe her some type of karmic debt. Big cosmic ju ju. And I can’t do anything about it, unless I get her to renounce.”

“Uh huh.”

“So, what I’ll do is go after her boss, threaten to take his livelihood away. This woman’s such a goody-goody she’ll free me from my geas rather than see her boss’s family out on the street.”

“And then what? You kill her?”

Simon opened his mouth to speak but stopped. He downed another shot and hung his head, “Naw. Even with all the grief she’s caused me, she’s just a ditzy civilian. What I can do, however, is go after her boyfriend.”

“What did he do to you?” Eddie asked.

“Treated me like his freakin’ slave for the past year! Used me for his dirty work, and without pay. Totally unprofessional. No, I’ll definitely be visiting Con Johnstantine once this curse is lifted. I plan on taking my time with him too.”

“What’s ITC got to do with all this?” Shrike had mentioned his need to contact the Interdimensional Transport Company earlier.

“There’s another person I owe. She’s not from around here. I figger ITC might be able to help me out. Get me to her doorstep, and then I carve her up into sushi,” Simon smiled and waggled his eyebrows, “Pretty smart, huh?”

“I guess. I try not to judge people too much,” Big Thick Eddie rubbed his broad forehead contemplatively, “You know, I think I heard a guy come in here once and say he worked for ITC.”

“Oh, yeah? What was his name?”

“Dunno. I think he has a tab though. It might be in the office ledger.”

“Fifty bucks if you let me check,” Simon offered.

Eddie shrugged, a gesture hard to perceive due to his lack of neck, “Sure.”

The lumbering duo headed behind the bar, to a small room with a filing cabinet, a cluttered desk, and not much else.

Simon Maddicks looked around for the ledger. He struggled with the filing cabinet as Eddie watched, “Got a key?” he asked.

“No,” the Scourge of the Parodyverse dropped his disguise and brought up his weapon, “I got this…”

PUM! SPLAT!

The .50 caliber explosive round blew out Shrike’s chest, sending his corpse sprawling across the table, unable to hear his assassin’s tagline or anything else ever again.


Next: Alcheman parlays with De Brown Streak while M.O.U.N.T-E hunts the Efficienado. And a very scary villain shows up. Scarier than even Killer Shrike’s bullet ridden corpse.





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