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Nitz the Bloody
Wed Dec 22, 2004 at 01:17:22 am EST

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The Commission #4
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The Commission Starring Nitz the Bloody Part 4
By Neil Kapit

The outcome of a typical day in Ykraa varies depending on class. For the ruling class, it means a life of luxury; for the underclass, it means government-controlled life, forced labor, famine and poverty, and even public torture and execution. But now, the positions have changed, with a little help from the Commission.

At one of the penal labor camps Ykraa is infamous for, a forced liberation is commencing. Four beings have burst through the gates; a living cybernetic shadow, a psychotic man in leather pants wielding a large rifle, a young man in a red duster coat, and a sixty-foot woman with blue hair. Their orders; break open the camp and kill everyone in a uniform. They carry out the orders swiftly. Bullets the guards fire do nothing; death spells the boy speaks get rid of them instantly. Those unfortunate enough not to be killed instantly are squashed by giant feet, shot by fusion bolts, suffocated by black nanotech matter. Many of them have just run away. The prisoners watch in disbelief; a voice in Ykraan tells them to run while they can, but most of them stay behind, gaping at the spectacle in front of them.

The President of Ykraa is not faring much better than his guards. In his office stand two men. The older of them stands by the door, looking down at the drooling corpse of one of the President’s bodyguards. The younger one walks up to the president, looking up at his eyes.

“ Thought you could keep this up forever, Mister President? “ the bald fifteen-year-old teases him. “ Living in your posh mansion while your people starve, torturing them every time they say one bad word about you, creating superhuman WMDs in your private labs out of unwilling test subjects. Getting fat and happy on the suffering of those you’re supposed to lead. And the superheroes turned a blind eye on this all along, didn’t they? Well, well, well, look at how things change. “

The President of Ykraa notices that his vision is starting to blur, as he shifts back and forth. “ See what I’m doing? “ the bald boy grins as he points to his forehead. “ I picked through that kumquat of a skull of yours and looked for your worst fear. Didn’t you have a little anxiety around bugs? “ It becomes clear to the President that a large swarm of spiders is enveloping his legs. Spiders are entering from every part of the room; the door, the windows, the air vent. They are all focused on him, and they are all crawling up his body. Eventually they reach his throat, and he feels a disturbing tickling sensation, of little legs scampering across every portion of his body. He screams and screams, then when he regains his breath, screams some more. The boy takes the President’s chair and sits in it, straddling it backwards.

“ None of those spiders are real, “ he laughs, “ But I’ve tricked your nervous system into thinking that they are. I can fool you into thinking anything. I can even convince you that they’re all biting you at once...unless, of course, you tell me where your superhuman cloning facility is. Then I’ll just let my associate deal with you quickly. “

” So, “ he grins, “ You ready to spill your guts? Metaphorically if not literally? “

“ Pyrarra “, the President squeals, “ That’s where the facilities are! Underground! Please don’t hurt me! “

” The man who ordered a head shot execution as a birthday present to himself is not wanting me to hurt him? Oh, that’s rich. Don’t worry, your body won’t feel a thing. Your mind, on the other hand... “

” Excuse me, “ Bateleur asks, “ But wouldn’t it just be easier for you to probe his mind for the information? “

“ Now where’s the fun in that? “
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Millar Congressional Library, Washington DC; the recently announced site of the Commission’s first press conference. All six members of the group are there, surrounded by a school of reporters.

“ Jim Clydes of PNN, “ one of them shouts, “ What do you have to say against accusations that your invasion of Ykraa was an unsanctioned preemptive strike? “

” It was unsanctioned, true, but it wasn’t preemptive “, the Bateleur admits. “ The President of Ykraa had been oppressing his people for DECADES. The UN wasn’t prepared to go in and set things right, so we thought we should be. “

” Sandra Johnson of B-Span, “ another shouts. “ Will there be future invasions of countries? “

” Definitely, “ the Umbra replies. “ For all you dictators, terrorists, and other scum of the Earth, we give you one warning, right now. Take it and run away as fast as you can. “

“ Jim Clydes of PNN news again, “ the same reporter yells. “ What about accusations of fascism? The idea that you’re trying to take over the world like some kind of super-powered menace? “

Nitz the Bloody steps forward and speaks. “ We’re just doing what sane people in our situation would do, “ he says. “ With our power, it’s our responsibility to do the most good we can, even if that means pissing off the UN a little bit. “

” Don Sharing of DEF News, “ carries over the crowds. “ Do you realize the legal and ethical ramifications of having a minor aboard your group? “

” I AM the LEADER, “ Stanng screams. “ I built this group and gave most of the members their powers. I may be younger, but my superhuman genius is far beyond most adults. And that includes you empty-headed reporters. “

“ Rip Ripping of Entertainment Yesterday, for Mr. Flutterby “ says another voice. “ What do you say about allegations that you still have a cocaine problem? “

The Bateleur takes off his helmet and sheds a single tear. “ That was years ago, “ he cries. “ I would have died for sure if I hadn’t found strength in Our Lord God. My faith keeps me clean, and I intend to stay that way! “

” So you’re a Christian organization enforcing your God’s existence? “

” No, we never said that. “

” So you DON’T care for the Judeo-Christian God and want to eliminate him? “

” We didn’t say that either. “

” What about rumors that Massive Molly has had cosmetic surgery? What kind of message does that send to young girls? “

” W-w-what, “ Molly stutters, sweating beads that plummet to the floor and make loud splashing sounds, “ I-I-I n-n-never.....H-H-How could you... “

” If your assholes don’t have anything intelligent to say, then don’t say anything at all, “ Stanng growls. “ This press conference is OVER. “

” But what about the rumors that-- “

A green portal opens behind the Commission, and they walk through it. It closes just as quickly as it opens.
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“ God, “ Stanng shouts as the Commission enters the Citadel’s Conference Room, “ What MORONS! What unbelievable f---ing idiots! “

” They have a right to ask questions, you know, “ Nitz the Bloody assures him.

“ Maybe, but they waste it asking such ridiculous s---. Who CARES if we’re not good role models, or which gods we believe in, or “, he says looking at the Bateleur, “ What drugs we do, “

” I resent that, “ the Bateleur mutters. “ Now if you’ll excuse me, I have some fine groupies waiting for me. Gate. “ He walks through a green portal, leading to somewhere in West Hollywood.

“ The point is, “ continues Stanng, “ We’re supposed to be saving them, not catering to them in every little way and sucking their collective... “

“ SO, uh, what do we do now, “ Nitz asks. “ Anywhere else you want us to invade, Stanng? “

” Not at the moment. Take five, people. I have some thinking to do. “

The Commission disperse, going to their various rooms in the Citadel. Stanng sits alone in his chair. He looks at the monitor screens, watching different regions of the Earth as he strokes the nonexistent hairs on his chin.

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Some time later in the Citadel; a room that has been designated the Nursery, a brightly colored room full of various large plastic toys, and a large pink crib where the Platinum Child sleeps. The Commission take turns volunteering to watch over her; so far, Molly Kitsarugi has volunteered to take on most of their shifts. She stands over the crib, covering her face with her eyes.

“ Peek-a-boo, “ she squeals, removing her hands, “ I see you! “ The Platinum Child laughs and claps her hands. A faint bluish energy signature emanates from her tiny digits.

Molly picks up the Child, and slowly rocks her in her cradled arms. “ I can’t believe we don’t have a name for you yet, “ she tells the Platinum Child. “ Not like anyone’s really trying to name you. Johnny thinks we should just stick with the Platinum Child, and Nitz suggested “ Amanda Hugginkiss “ and “ Ivana Tinkle “ in the same sentence. “ She chuckles. “ I had a good laugh at that, I guess I laughed too hard, though. “

Molly looks directly into the baby’s eyes. “ Can you keep a secret, baby? “ She asks rhetorically. The Child just mutters something in baby-talk. “ I think that Nitz is kinda cute. When he takes off his mask, that is. “

” My, somebody has low standards, “ the Umbra teases from the doorway.

“ Eep! “ Molly squeaks, then asks, “ A-a-alea, h-h-how did you h-h-hear... “

“ I pick up frequencies low enough that dogs can’t hear them, “ the Arabic/Israeli woman states. “ Your little confession broadcast to me like a jackhammer. “

” It’s nothing, really, “ Molly sighs. “ I don’t think Nitz would ever be interested in me. We’re celebrities now. He’s probably out there, dating all sorts of pretty girls. He wouldn’t have interest in a towering freak like me.... “

The Umbra sits on the edge of the crib, and looks Molly directly in her spectacled eyes. “ Honey, “ she says, “ Have you taken a good look at Nitz lately? He’s a skinny goof with an acne problem and an action figure collection. Trust me, Molly, if there was even a possibility you’d sleep with him, he’d get down on his knees and beg. “

” N-n-no, i-i-it’s nothing like that.... “

” I personally think you can do better, but if you’re that keen on Nitz, just ask him out. Guys like him are too chicken to make the first move. “

” Do you think he’s going out with other girls right now? “

” Molly, do you think there’s a chance in hell of HIM being with anyone that isn’t mechanical? I’m half nano-tech, and even I find him weird and off-putting. He’s probably alone right now....make that definitely.“

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Parodopolis University, Weston Hall; Shawn “ Nitz “ Griffon sleeps alone, but he’s not sleeping very well. In his dreaming state, he keeps seeing black silouhettes of people on a red background. Every time he focuses in on one of the silhouettes, it shatters into dozens of tiny pieces. Each shattering is accompanied by a scream in Ykraan, which Nitz doesn’t understand but has heard many times in the last few days.

And then, he hears a shouting noise. “ Stanng to all units, Stanng to all units “ Echoes through his head. “ Return to the Citadel Immediately. “ He gets out of his bed, reaches for his cudgel, and transforms his plaid pajamas into his Nitz the Bloody costume. Opening a rip in the fabric of reality, he enters the Citadel’s plane through a personal tunnel he creates. He doesn’t have time for dream interpretation, not that he would want any.

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“ What the hell is going on, “ the Bateleur shouts, with half his armor on and the unarmored parts of his body covered with scratches, and a faint white residue on his upper lip, “ I was in the middle of a three-way! “

” Keep your debauchery to yourself, please, “ Stanng tells his audience in the Conference Room. “ I’m picking something up on the monitor. “

“ Sir, what is the malfunction, sir! “ The Enlisted screams.

“ Our security has been breached. There’s somebody in the Citadel’s halls. I don’t know how they got into our headquarters, but when I find them, I’m going to....to...! “

After a blowing sound occurs, Stanng falls out of his chair, onto the tiled floor. The Commission look behind themselves and see a small masked man in a black jumpsuit wielding a blowpipe, with gold pieces of armor on his right arm, across his chest, over his forehead, and covering his legs from the calf down. A scabbard is on his left hip; from it he releases a long, curved, glowing katanna.

“ Okay, “ the man says, “ Which one of you wants to be next? “

NEXT: The truth behind the invader.


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