Tales of the Parodyverse

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J. Jonah Jerkson
Sat Jul 02, 2005 at 12:15:10 am EDT

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The Baroness, Part 31: Challenge for Supremacy, or Elizabeth decides to take on the Hooded Hood
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The Baroness, Part 31
Challenge for Supremacy

[In German]"Good morning, highly wellborn Baroness. My name is Dolf, this is my brother Rolf and this is my other brother Hrolf." The speaker gave a tug to his forelock to emphasize his words.

Elizabeth Zemo paused a moment before replying to the three hulking minions barring the corridor of Schloss Schreckhausen. Each was carrying a dwarf-size pickaxe, a bucket about the size of a child’s beach pail, and a collection of pre-teen scale tools and gadgets hanging from their broad leather belts. The effect was something akin to having slovenly motorcycle gang members playing the parts of the Entertainment Company Which Can Never Be Named’s Seven Dwarves.

"What are you doing down here?” Elizabeth growled.

"Begging your pardon, Your Highness, but Baron Otto let us out to do some digging for him in the sub-sub-sub-basement."

"Is he letting you use explosives?"

"No, Ma’am."

"Are you carrying candles, lanterns, torches or anything else that burns?"

"No, Your Baronessshipcy."

"No acids, hydraulic jacks, roto-rooters, air hammers or chainsaws?>

"Uh, uh, Miss Elizabeth."

"Are you friends with Kerry Shephardson?"

Hrolf was nodding vigorously, while Rolf was waving his hands.

"Well?"

Dolf explained, "My brothers really like her. Her picture’s on the wall over their straw mattresses. Even though they’ve never been closer to her than 500 meters."

The Baroness considered the risks and gave in. "I see. Well, hurry along and don’t keep the Baron waiting."

"No, your excellency," Dolf agreed, "and if you want, we’ll save a really good pail of sludge for the kitchen tonight."

Elizabeth cringed.

A few minutes later:

“What’s the point of buying Interdimensional Transportation Corporation?” Sally Rezilyant grumbled from the jump seat in the rear of the Zemo limousine. “You can’t believe that Peter von Doom and Roni Avis left any sort of a business after they looted it.”

“Settle down, Sally,” Elizabeth Zemo chided. “I have bigger ambitions than running a delivery service. I’m after the Hooded Hood.”

“Eeep!” the elastic adventuress squealed.

“What is your problem with that man?” the Baroness replied. “Did you run into him before you started with me?”

“Y-yes, Your Excellency,” Sally whimpered.

“And?”

“It was in Off-Central Park, right before exams. He told me that I was going to become stretchy – and then he turned me into rubber for a minute and wound me around a pole. And then I was me again.”

“So?” inquired Elizabeth.

“He told me that some day I would again be his servant – his tool, and then he gave me this look – it was like looking into my grave.”

“I see. And were you happy about this?”

“No, of course not.”

“Then you should be happy that we are going to beat the Hooded Hood at his own game,” the Baroness smirked.

“No, I’m scared stiff that he’s going to take some awful revenge against me for being with you,“ Sally whined. “Aren’t you biting off a lot more than you can chew – ma’am?”

“That’s what they always say about Zemoes,” her employer sneered, “but we always get away with it at the end – or just get away.”

The Maybach limousine had just pulled up in front of ITC’s building facing Off-Central Park. Alighting from the limo, Sally accompanied Elizabeth up the steps to the automatic doors. As they opened, the sepulchral tones of Bach’s Toccata and Fugue in D Minor rang out again.

“He’s on to us!” Sally wailed.

Elizabeth just muttered a few curse words and then addressed her minion. “So he knows I bought ITC? That’s hardly been a secret. Come with me down to the generator room.”

Several stories underground, the pair met a rag-tag assortment of ITC technicians and a larger group of meta-villains. “All right, line up,” the Baroness barked. “Anvil Man?”

“Yo!”

“Not Yo! Anvil Man?”

“Uh, yo?”

Elizabeth winced and decided on a different tactic. “The rest of you, just raise your hand – or other appendage – when I call your name. Appendage Man? Atomic Bumpkin? Biohazard? Birthday Bandit? Canadian Nightmare? Dr. Teeth? DreamRipper? Evil Monkey? Nice tail, by the way. Expired Warranty? HuntingJusticeDeathMarrow? Indigo Imposter? Lance?”

“Oooh, honey! You’re going on a mission for me?” Sally beamed.

“Mission?”

“Quiet!” the Baroness continued. “Onslaughter? Professor Manyarms? PsychoAcidPervGirl? Pudu Lad? Quake? Razor Ballerina? Rimshooter? Rodney, the Patronizing Git?”

“Quite,” Rodney yawned. “Such an inefficient and antiquated method of verifying our presence, though –“

“Enough! I’m not paying you to use your powers on me!”

“Well,” the Git harrumphed.

“Suicide Blonde? The Mind’s Eye? Velcro Vixen? Voodoo Vicar? Fine. Two dozen metavillains, each of you assigned to a particular event in Parodyverse history. When your name is called, step over to the portal there, and you’ll be sent to your time-space coordinates. When you get there, open your sealed orders and carry them out. Sally and I will bring you back.”

“How do we know you’ll bring us back?” Razor Ballerina, as always, cut to the heart of the matter.

“Read this,” the Baroness replied, motioning to a flunky to run the slide projector. A contract appeared on a wall screen. “An agreement with Harry Flask to send Gamona the Assassin after us if all of you aren’t returned.”

“Us? Us!” Silicone Sally interjected. “How did I get to be prey for Gamona?”

“If you are going to run with the big dogs, Sally, don’t be surprised if one of them turns out to be a bitch,” her employer replied.

After a few moments, Razor Ballerina agreed grudgingly. “It looks o.k., although that out for disintegration on duty isn’t the most hopeful sign. I’ll do it.”

“Indeed you will,” Elizabeth chided. “Just for that, why don’t you go first?”

Metallic glints suddenly shone from Mindy Kovskoski’s lean body as her blade generation powers kicked in. Sally Rezilyant jumped backward; her flexibility was no match for the ballerina’s honed edges. The Baroness, however, was unfazed. “I know you’re good, Mindy; that’s why I pay you the big bucks. Just use that stuff on the mission, and don’t show off here.”

The Razor Ballerina grinned, showing honed metal teeth that made Sally think of some old James Bond movies. “That’s fine,” she retorted, and strutted toward the portal. A technician hurried to make some final settings.

Moments later, the terpsichorean terror vanished through the portal, and Elizabeth Zemo called Anvil Man forward for his trip through time.

Over two hours later, with all of the two dozen independent contractors whisked away into the past, Sally turned to Elizabeth. “So, what was all that about? Some plot to change history?”

“On the contrary, it’s a plot to make sure history isn’t changed. Even if the Hood is listening in now, it’s too late. At least one of my crew – and probably most of them – will foul up an event vital to one of the Hood’s past plans, unless we bring them back. He can try retconning my plots out of existence, but there are too many of my metavillains out there for him to change them all.”

“But why use Lance?”

“Just a hunch. The Lair Legion pulls off remarkable saves using Visionary, who has no abilities at all that anyone could find helpful. So, I’m going to try out your boyfriend, who also has no abilities that anyone could find useful on a mission – and who’s almost as baffled as Visionary.”

“That’s true. Are you sure he’ll get back?”

“Who knows?“

“I mean,” explained Sally, “it’s not as if I really care about the guy, but he is really good in bed and looks good in the clubs. And he’s generous.”

“Yes, it might take you a full half-hour to find someone like him at the Willow.”

“Huh. I could do it in five minutes.” Sally took a deep breath, causing her chest to expand strategically.

“Impressive. Now I know what they mean when they say your boobs are like basketballs. But aren’t you going to ask me what my master plan is?”

“Oops, forgot that. I don’t have the minion thing down pat yet.”

“Liesl, Anna, come here and get me ready.” Elizabeth’s two maids appeared from the shadows with hairbrushes and cosmetics, and quickly adjusted their mistress’s hair, makeup and attire. Finished, they attempted the same for Sally, but were flummoxed by her rubbery hair and face. They retreated to the sidelines.

“O.K., Sally, stand to my right, so that the Omni-Temporal-Transmigrator is behind us. Good. Ioldabaoth, are you listening now?”

There was an ominous pause, and then mere silence.

“Rats. Sally, get him on your cellphone and ask him to turn on the Portal of Pretentiousness.”

“I’m sure his number’s unlisted.”

“1-666-DOMINION. Don’t bother to write it down; he’ll change it.”

“You have reached the Hooded Hood’s base of operations at Herringcarp Asylum. If you are a meddling teenager or other nuisance, press “1” to retcon this call out of existence – or face the consequences. If you are an unpaid tradesperson or supplier, press “2” to have my account payable extinguished. If you are a government agency, plaintiff’s lawyer or do-gooder, press “3” to have yourself retconned out of existence –unless you are Lisa Waltz. If you are a criminal mastermind with a foolproof scheme to share with the Hooded Hood, press “4” for instant amnesia. If you are a metavillain who has this number for a good reason, press “5” – and if you are lying, prepare for the tortures of hell. And, if you represent the Internal Revenue Service, press “6” to leave a message – there are some things even I cannot eliminate.”

Sally pressed “5” and surprisingly enough, the Hooded Hood himself answered. “Ah, Ms Rezilyant, an unexpected pleasure. What causes you to ring . . . the Hooded Hood?”

“Her Excellency, Baroness Zemo, would like you to turn on the Portal of Pretentiousness and look in on us.”

“I can do better than that,” the archvillain replied. A moment later, the cowled criminal appeared from his own shimmering portal.

“Ioldabaoth, how good to see you,” the Baroness greeted her adversary. Silicone Sally attempted a wan smile that quickly degenerated into a shudder. Involuntarily, she took a step behind her mentor.

“Baroness,” Ioldabaoth Winkelweald responded, “I see you are already exploiting your new property. I hope you will not suffer any mishaps.”

“Thank you for your concern,” Elizabeth Zemo replied drily. “Come, sit down in the reception room over here. I have coffee and a tray of Frau Zuckerwolken’s pastries.”

“An almost irresistable inducement,” the Hood acknowledged as they entered the room and sat down in some nearby armchairs. The Hooded Hood’s transformed into a comfortable throne; Elizabeth Zemo’s into a hard, wooden student’s chair from Willingham High School and Silicone Sally’s into a small wooden barrel.

“Very droll, Ioldabaoth,” the Baroness snapped, and ordered two hovering attendants to replace the chairs.

“Quite, Baroness, but it did give me first pick of the Danish.”

“It’s time, I think, for you to stop having first pick of everything. The equipment here at ITC gives me almost your capabilities for scanning the past and the future, and I’ve taken certain steps to prepare for my campaign.”

“Indeed,” intoned the Hooded Hood with a condescending smile.

“Do you remember a certain concert at the Parodiopolis Variety Theatre? The one where Chronic was your star attraction? Take a look at this photograph from the Multi-Dimensional Photographic Integrator.” She passed a glossy photo to the maleficent manipulator.

“Expired Warranty’s backstage? That’s a new twist,” the Hooded Hood mused.

“Quite. And unless I bring him back, he will sabotage the guitar Steve and all the electronics, sending your plan and the Parodyverse on an unexpected and likely irretrievable course. And don’t bother to retcon him now. I have other operatives at that scene; eliminating Expired Warranty will free at least one to do some other dirty work. And so on, throughout the past.”

“But you aren’t trying to change the past, isn’t that so?”

“That’s your specialty, and you haven’t done that well with it. My plans look to the future. And for the next six months, you aren’t going to play retcons with me or Sally or any of my people. Or we won’t be able to go back and pull all of my operatives away from their plots, and all of your interventions in the Parodyverse go wacky.”

“A doomsday threat,” the Hood replied with cool equanimity. “It would harm you as much, even more, than I.”

“Perhaps so, although I think I’ve been more clever than that.”

“Excellent Sachertorte. Frau Zuckerwolken maintains her august reputation,” was the criminal mastermind’s only response.

“Don’t stall. Until the end of the year, Parodiopolis time, you deal with me without retcons – one criminal intelligence against the other – and you leave this place alone. On New Year’s Eve, I go back, pick up my people and undo my traps. By then, I will have defeated you, and they won’t matter.”

“You can hardly expect me to give my word to accede to this blackmail,” the Hooded Hood riposted.

“Hardly. I just wanted you to know that there is a new chess game – and I have an extra queen on the board.”

“You sound much like your great-uncle Heinrich,” the Hooded Hood observed. “Arrogant to a fault. Unlike him, however, you have no idea of how to use the power you’ve gathered. I will enjoy this little fracas, Elizabeth, but do not mistake how it will end. Good day.” He stood and vanished in a flash of light.

“Ibb-aa-ibba-is he gone?” Sally gurgled, cowering in her chair.

“Yes, although he’s probably watching us now,” her employer replied.
“And Lance and the rest of them are going to be stuck in the past for six months? Gamona’s going to be after us!”

“Not so fast, Sally,” the Baroness reassured her assistant, while glancing at her watch. “Just wait about 30 seconds, and you’ll see.”

Sally still had her doubts. “One thing really bothers me, Your Excellency. You said ITC’s stuff was “almost” as good as the Hood’s. Why not “better?”

“I can’t do better than the Portal of Pretentiousness. But I’m not hampered by the Hood’s pretensions and obsessions, Sally. The Hood always gives his adversaries a chance. I won’t. And I’ll win.”

As the 30 seconds expired, Anvil Man came stomping into the room. “Hey! Weren’t you two back there, by the portal we came back through?”

“Don’t worry about it, big boy. Now come over here, and I’ll give you your check.” Doing so, the Baroness dismissed the rusted supervillain.

“You still shouldda let me take out Sorceress,” the seven-foot-tall armored warrior whined as he galumphed through the exit.

“Huh? We didn’t bring him back,” Sally questioned.

“Oh, but we will. On New Year’s Eve we’re going back six months in time to pick up all these goons, Sally. Then we’ll drop them off here today before you and I go to Las Vegas for the Year One of the Zemo Millennium bash I’m going to throw for New Year’s. And I know it’s going to work, because we just saw Anvil Man get back.”

Sally gasped. “You mean it. You are going to take over the world. But how?”

”Just wait and see, Sally, wait and see.”


Playing the part of Baroness Elizabeth Zemo:

J. JONAH JERKSON
Voice of the People



For reference, here are the members of the Zemo household:

Baron Ottokar Attila Kublai Tamerlane Zemo von Saxe-Lurkburg-Schreckhausen
Baroness Elizabeth Sweetwater Zemo von Saxe-Lurkburg-Schreckhausen

Franz, unflappable major-domo
Sally Rezilyant, elastic social secretary to the Baroness
Frau Hollweg, frequently snockered head housekeeper
Armand, chef de cuisine with knife-wielding skills
Frau Zuckerwolken, 325 lb. pastry chef who makes ethereal desserts

Wilhelm, valet to the Baron
Liesl and Anna, maids to the Baroness
Gunter, chauffeur
Max, gardener
Leo, Karl, Fritz and Helmut, goons (rented)
Dolf, Rolf and Hrolf, lackeys
Mandi and Maria, chars
Willy, scullery boy






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