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J. Jonah Jerkson
Sat Oct 30, 2004 at 04:53:31 pm EDT
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The Baroness, Part 9. Whoops.
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The Baroness, Part 9
Whoops!

[I wrote myself into a corner in the last two parts. Elizabeth’s debut coincides with the Crossworlds Challenge, which has kept almost all of our heroes off-planet, including Visionary. Those absences gave Elizabeth a necessary opening to launch her career. Yet, Vizh had a big role in part 7 that doesn’t bear elimination. I had three choices: treat part 7 as a dream, ask the Hooded Hood for a retcon to reconcile everything (but becoming indebted to the Louche Latvian this early in my PVB career seemed rather risky), or . . . . ]


A student lounge at the Institute for Meta Studies, Parodiopolis University

Kerry Shephardson was slumped in a beanbag chair, waiting for her morning class with Amber St. Claire on “Superheroics and the Government.” A few of her classmates in the Junior Lair Legion milled around the vending machines, looking for quick, artificial substitutes for breakfast food to go with their sludgy coffee.

“Whoooshhh,” came a watery sound from behind her left ear. Kerry vaulted from the chair, shuddering and moving her head madly around, trying to find the source of the water blast. All that she found or heard was Ham-Boy going into hysterics. “You are so (ha, ha, ho, ho, ho) busted (gasp), Kerry!” He dissolved back into convulsive laughter, while two other Junior Legionnaires came over to investigate.

“She’s eee-vill, I tell yeh, eee-vill!” Kerry tended to emphasize her Irish accent under stress.

“Who’s that?” inquired Samantha Bonnington, the Fashion Accessory.

“He, he, har, har, snort, her new neighbor, some blonde (huh, huh, huh) named Elizabeth,” chortled Ham-Boy.

“I tell yeh, she’s not some dumb blondie. She’s a tool of the devvil!”

Glory, the Mutt of Might, sauntered up to explain to Samantha. “Heinrich Zemo’s grand-niece, Elizabeth von Zemo, has rented the townhouse next to Visionary’s condo. She is suspected of masterminding the Parodiopolis Fed gold robbery last week, but the responsible authorities have no real evidence. Mr. Epitome has ordered me to stay off the case for the moment.”

“See, I was right. She is evil – she’s a von Zemo!”

“Whatever she is, she sure has your number!” Ham-Boy sneered. “You shoulda seen it,” he whooped, going on to describe Kerry’s comeuppance the preceding afternoon. As he came to the end of the tale, Samantha was having difficulty stifling a smile, while Glory was whining softly from the effort of holding back a raucous bark.

“And what were ya doin’ there, yeh culchie? [1] Sneakin’ around the condo trying to get a glimpse of me in my bloomers?”

“You wish! Nah, my ham-sense was telling me something was up, so I hopped a bus over to Dullard’s Corner and saw the whole thing. So, what are you going to do unto her, Kerry?“

“Quiet, bacon-breath. I’ve got to think about this.”

“Kerry Shephardson, thinking about arson? This is a new development. Are you sure you don’t want some more comfortable clothes to do it in?” pestered Samantha.

“Are you sure we shouldn’t be checking with Visionary first?” Glory yelped.

“You oughtta tell her, Kerry,” warned Ham-Boy.

“Tell me what?” The Hound of Heroism cocked her head in that way only dogs do to listen.

“That I’ve been living for two weeks with a Bautista Enterprises android? What’s so different about that?”

“That hasn’t been Visionary with us?” Glory growled.

“See, you couldn’t tell. NTU-150 whipped up a Visionary-bot to ‘take care of me’ while Synthoman went off to play the butt on that cosmic reality show. Otherwise, with my lame-o sister mysteriously missing, I’d have to go to the juvie shelter, or some foster home.”

“You kept me out of the loop? I thought I was on the team.” Glory’s growl was low and hostile now.

“Come on, Glory, it wasn’t as bad as that. You know you never get to watch anything fun on the tube, thanks to that super-grind Epitome you live with. So why would you suspect there was a switch? And I specifically dupe’d Visionary’s wardrobe right down to the wrinkles and the scent, so that the droid would fit in as much as possible.” Samantha was genuinely concerned about the feelings of her other female teammate.

“Would you like a salami or something?” Ham-Boy wheedled.

“And I wouldn’t be surprised if the Probability Dancer threw in some spins to cut down the odds of anybody’s noticing the switch,” the FA continued.

“Duped by a fake possibly-fake man. How humiliating,” whimpered Glory, who skulked away to lie behind a sofa.

“Yeah, whatever, but we have to figure out what to do with that dumpy fraulein now,” Kerry grumbled.

“Why not just capture her and take her off to the Safe?” Ham-Boy offered.

“Duh, no evidence, Porky. Besides getting Amber and the rest bitching at us, she’d just get out and do something even more despicable to me – uh, to the city. Nah, this is a revenge thing now.”

“Does that mean we have to get involved? The spring shows open this afternoon in Thanatopsis Park, behind the library, and I’ve got front row seats with Anna Tourwin.” Samantha’s eyes gleamed at the prospect of a week’s attendance at the highest of high fashion events.

“You can go do the fashion thang, Samantha. I’ve already got my stuff ready. Motive, weapon . . . I just need the opportunity.”

“This I gotta see. I’m coming along.” Ham-Boy was almost panting with excitement.

“Just stay out of my way, jerk-o.”

Fred Harris glared back at Kerry. She hastened to apologize. “I meant ‘jerky,’ you know, the stuff those studs at the construction site like. You’re tough like that.”

Mollified, the Processed Protein Player nodded his head. “I’ll come along to back you up.”

“Way back, and dispense with the funny hat. Act like it’s an undercover job. I’m ditching Amber’s class, you two. Tell her I had a family emergency.”

“What emergency?” the conscientious canine barked.

“My guardian. He’s getting fixed up.”

“At the hospital?” Fred Harris wasn’t always the quickest on the draw.

“No, at P.I.T. [2]. All the water shorted him out.”

Back at her temporary headquarters in the warehouse district, Elizabeth von Zemo was taking a break with her new assistant from interviewing henchpersons, minions and mad scientists.

“Hundreds of baddies in the Parodyverse, and we end up with these no-hopers,” Elizabeth spat.

“Well, Your Excellency, Anvil Man wasn’t so bad.”

“Yes, but I was hoping for something like a Killer Shrike or a HuntingJustice DeathMarrow. I mean, I only know those people from web pages and such, but they looked dangerous – and competent. What did we do? We used the last five minutes trying to talk to Vasto the Wonder Frog.”

“Then you aren’t going to be happy with the afternoon list. Four of the Outcasts: Sgt. Snail, Oaf, Dung Beetle, and the Man with Two Chins. Then Rodney, the Patronizing Git. You can also speak with Dr. Teeth if there’s any time left over. I’m getting the feeling that Monstrous.com doesn’t quite attract the quality evil element. Your Excellency,” Sally added quickly.

“I’m getting the feeling you’re right, Sally. So, why did you put your resume up on Monstrous?”

“Just the idea of some excitement. I mean, when I was a grad student, I had my profile on a bunch of job hunting websites, and all that happened were these invitations to have coffee with guys who turned out to be 285 lbs. or 5’3” with zits. And, of course, the routine, kinky, obscene e-mails. On Monstrous, after I transformed, I still got the obscene e-mails, but they were at least interesting kinky. And the interviews were in places like Cannes, or Lebanese terrorist camps, or 24 hour sleaze palaces in Moscow. You should see where I’m going this weekend, Your Excellency.”

“Does that mean you’re leaving me?”

“Well, Your Excellency, you only hired me as a temp, after all. I have to keep my options open. And besides, now that I’m ultra-high-tensile rubber, there’s not very much that they can do that can hurt me. So I go for the gusto.”

“Look, let’s forget about the title. Just call me ‘Beth.’ For now.”

“O.K., Beth. What brought you into the supervillain business?”

“Aside from family history and a cranky old grandfather? Pretty much the same as you. Two more years of rat psych at Michigan and writing my thesis, or taking my shot at power, glory, money and possibly even some sex appeal?”

“You could end up locked in the Safe for life.”

“Yes, or I could end up locked in a lab building with a couple hundred fragrant rodents for the next few years, each one of them going for his Ph.D. too and competing for attention from the faculty advisors. And I’d also have to take care of the rats.”

“Did you have a boyfriend?”

“Yes, and he wasn’t too bad-looking either. Pretty good in bed too, liked to lick. But then he went to law school, and”

“Started doing things rats wouldn’t even do,” Sally broke in. They both laughed.

Outside the warehouse, Ham-Boy and Kerry Shephardson skulked in the alleyway. “Aren’t you glad I came along?” Fred whispered. “My ham-sense led us straight to her secret hideout.”

“Yeah, Freddy, you had a good idea there. Nothing’s here to stop us but a few dried-out villain wannabees waiting to grovel in front of Her Excellency,” Kerry sneered. “O.K. Visionary, you can come forward now.”

The fake possibly-fake man wobbled around the corner and joined Kerry and Fred. “I told you, this is a very bad idea, Kerry. (click).”

“You’re going to use Visionary to attack von Zemo?”

“No, Visionary-bot. He’s an NTU-150 creation. I’ve been using almost all of my powers keeping him from catastrophic malfunction for two weeks now. Why do you think I’ve been so strung-out and nasty? O.K., ‘bot, now here are your orders. Go into the warehouse and ask for a few minutes to see your friend Elizabeth. Then try out some of your higher mental functions for conversation – and do your best to keep from malfunctioning.”

“I’m not sure you should be doing this, Kerry. (click) I mean if you’re correct, she’s a villain. What if I succumb to her (click)feminine wiles? (click, click, clickety-click)”

“Down boy, not yet!” Kerry exclaimed. “Don’t tell me you get off just thinking about her!”

“(Buzz) But I don’t get to think, think, think much (click, buzz) about feminine wiles. (buzzzz)”

Kerry’s forehead was developing beads of sweat and her face was lined with pain. “Gotta . . . keep you together for . . . just a bit . . . longer.
All right, I’m ordering you . . . . Think of something depressing. Like my grade point average. Ahh, that’s better. O.K., ‘bot, go in there like I told you.”

“(click) All right Kerry. But I’m only doing this to help you. (click). The Visionary-bot lurched toward the warehouse door.

“Come on, Freddy, let’s get outside the blast radius. At least 100 yards or so.”

“How did you get the ‘bot to follow your commands?” Ham-Boy asked as they sprinted around the corner.

“I promised the engineers over at PIT that I’d come to their next frat party.”

“Hey, can I come too?”

“We’re both underage, Hammie. Besides, I have standards.”

Inside the warehouse, Visionary-bot found a bench and sat down next to another aspirant to henchman status. “Hey, have you seen the receptionist or whoever’s in charge here?”

Evil Monkey chittered back angrily. “Ch-ch-ch-ch! Go away fake man! Eee-ayak!”

“I'm real, dammit!” the ‘bot responded automatically.

“Says you. Besides, aren’t you a hero?

“I don’t feel like one. (click). Besides, I was ordered to come in here and meet someone called ‘Feminine Wiles.’ (click, clickety click, buzz buzz)”

“Feminine Wiles?” Evil Monkey paused while Visionary-bot went through its new repertoire of clicks and buzzes. “Never heard of her. But she must be really hot, the way you’re reacting. Must have the robot equivalent of really red patches on her as___.”

”(buzz, click click, buzz zorch)Look, is that the receptionist (buzz, buzzity buzz, clicl) coming back in? (zorch) Is she Feminine Wiles?” Visionary-bot’s arms and left leg began to tremble in time with the breakdown warnings as he stared at the nearby desk. A perfectly pink-skinned, voluptuous swimsuit model-type, crowned with long, straight, greyish-transparent hair, was sitting behind it.

“No, that’s Silicone Sally, the Baroness’s assistant. Eee-eek! Ook-ah, ook-ah!” remarked the simian, hoping to catch her eye.

Visionary-bot was already out of his chair, heading for the desk, gallant reflex apparent. “(buzz, buzz, buzz, click zorch-buzz) Are you the (zorch) receptionist? (click, click, clickety click, zorch spreeee). My name, name, name, is Vizh, (spree, buzz, clicketyzorch) Vizh, Visionar---“

The warehouse erupted with a massive explosion.

Playing the part of Elizabeth von Zemo:

J. Jonah Jerkson
VOICE OF THE PEOPLE

Footnotes
[1] “Culchie” – Gaelic slang for a hayseed or a rube.
[2] PIT – Parodiopolis Institute of Technology.


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