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J. Jonah Jerkson posting what he's been able to write
Tue Nov 01, 2005 at 12:59:21 pm EST
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The Baroness, Part 39. "Greener though. And no insanity."
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The Baroness, Part 39
“Greener, though. And no insanity.”


Aboard the Zemo Zeppelin

“’Villains like the Hood, get out for good,’” Elizabeth Zemo chanted to herself. “Sally, I’m the Man!”

“Yes, Your Excellency, ‘you the Man,’” Silicone Sally toadyed. “Who would have thought an international supercriminal could do a rap? Will you want a submachine gun for the album picture?”

“Album . . . . Sally, you’re a genius! Get some promotion behind me, and I could be the next rap superstar!”

“Right. A blonde doing rap. Just like Eminem. Hey, Franz, can you rustle up some lunch? Some of the sevruga caviar would be nice for a starter,” Sally called.

“Just so, miss.” Franz appeared from nowhere with the sevruga, capers, onion, warm toast points and hard-boiled egg slices on a silver salver.

“You’re amazing, you know that?” Sally murmured.

“It’s a gift,” Franz humbly replied. “And here is your champagne flute.”

“Franz, I want to play with my toys. Get the petri dishes from Phantomhwk Memorial Hospital, the magnifiers and the genetically modified amoebas. And a salad,” Elizabeth ordered.

“Sehr gut, hochwohlgeborene Freiin, sofort.”

“Sally, I want you to get right on the rap album. Get me the best producers, a half dozen of the best rap writers, a full backup crew, and the number one publicity agency. I want Zemo all over MTV, VH1 and Entertainment Tonight. I’m going to be a star!”

Sally paused a moment to load some more caviar on a toast point and gently pass it into her mouth, savoring the musky flavor. Finished, she decided to point a few things out. “You know, there is the minor problem of your plan to take over the world. Everybody’s waiting for your next masterstroke. Me too. Why waste time on a rap album for which you have exactly one number?”

“When it comes to lording over people and treating them like dirt, nothing beats rap stardom, Sally. Not even world domination.”

Meanwhile, in the plush law offices of Sneek, Grabbit and Thuggery, Visionary’s deposition was continuing.

The Baroness’ lawyer, Arthur Narr, was almost gloating. “Let the record show that the witness is sweating profusely. Would you like a towel, Mr. Visionary?”

“Er, yes. No! I mean, is it wrong for me to use a towel? It doesn’t mean I’m guilty, does it?”

“I object!” A young woman in a severe black suit entered the deposition room.

“And you are?” Arthur Narr hated interruptions when he was having such success taking the witness apart.

“Laurie Leyton. Let the record show that I am appearing as counsel for Mr. Visionary.”

“It was my understanding that the deponent was unrepresented,” replied Mr. Narr in a smooth voice. “Something about not having the resources to retain counsel and being physically thrown out of the legal aid office?”

“His friends have retained me on his behalf.” Lisette shoved a form under the other lawyer’s nose.

“Well, this looks in order.” The cash register in Mr. Narr’s mind began ringing merrily; now that there was opposition, the billable hours would skyrocket. He handed the paper to the court reporter with a broad smile on his face.

Somewhere over Pittsburgh:

“Thank you, Franz. Set them on that table there.”

“And Franz, a glass of the number 16 liquid silicone for me. I just don’t seem to have my usual bounce today.” Silicone Sally dropped her hand to demonstrate. It barely rebounded from the arm rest.

“In the refrigerator cabinet to your right. It should be chilled to your liking,” the major domo replied.

She opened the cabinet and withdrew a crystal glass filled with transparent fluid. “Yum,” she said, licking her lips, and drained it in one gulp.

“This high living’s cutting down on your bounce per ounce, Sally. You may have to go on a diet like me,” Elizabeth warned.

“I still have what it takes,” Sally replied, and then took a deep breath to emphasize her assets. “Look at these bounce.”

“Impressive – to testosterone poisoning victims. Anyhow, you were asking about my little detour to the hospital last night? Take a look in that viewer while I activate the nano-microphones.”

“Who are they? And where are they?”

“Remember my stay at Phantomhwk Hospital? And the caring treatment I got from them when they found out I had no insurance? Well, right there, shrunk down to the size of bacteria, are two toxic bacteria from the customer accounts department. Sally, meet Allan Harsch and Suzie Sheltie – nano-sized.”

“Omigod! Those are people in there! And those giant blob things are attacking them!”

“Genetically modified amoebas, actually. Hello, Allan? Suzie? This is Elizabeth Zemo. Remember me?

“Help!” came back through the speakers. “These things are after us!”

“Does your health insurance cover bacterial engulfment?”

“Are you crazy? Get us out of here!” Allan Harsch screamed.

“It doesn’t? I’m so, so sorry,” the Baroness intoned. “’You will have to make arrangements for the immediate payment of your bill.’ Remember telling me that, Allan? Remember throwing me out of the hospital and charging me $38,000 because I had no insurance? Well, now you and Miss Suzie can come up with $38,000, plus interest, immediately, or I’ll just have to leave you and her to deal with those cute little carnivorous amoebas on your own.”

“Gaaaah! It’s got my foot! Will you take a check?” Suzie squealed.

“Sorry, cash or credit card only. And we don’t take American Express,” Elizabeth sneered.

“I’m maxed ou-ou-out. That tickles!” Suzie screamed as an amoeba slurped its way up to her waist.

“I’m sure you’ll be able to find an alternate provider. Try one of the free clinics in Hell’s Bathroom – it’s only a two month wait. Oops, you ran out of time. By-yi-yi now!” the Baroness chirped as the rest of Suzie was enveloped.

“It reminds me of the Shoggoth,” Sally observed.

“Greener though. And no insanity.”

The hospital administrator was having more success fending off the ravenous protoplasts by taking off his shoes and using them as clubs against the approaching pseudopods. “Pant – get . . . away, damn you, whoever you are . . . ahhh . . . get me out of this place or I’ll get you. I’ll come after you!”

“Actually, Allan, do you know where you are? You’re in a petri dish – watch out for that one behind you!. And you’re being recorded on DVD. I’ll be watching your little struggles whenever I need some cheering up. So, as you slowly, slowly exhaust yourself and become microscopic bug food, you’ll at least have the pride of knowing -- ouch, that one stung, didn’t it? – that you helped make the life of Baroness Elizabeth Zemo happier. “

“I’ll . . .

With a “slorp,” Allan Harsch’s head was buried in greenish goo, and moments later his entire body, weakly struggling to the end, was engulfed.

“Aww,” said Sally. “I thought he’d last longer.”

“Well, let’s try something with a higher intelligence level. Franz, bring in the shoebox, would you?”


Playing the part of the ruthless Elizabeth Zemo

J. JONAH JERKSON
Voice of the People

Notes:

The late Allan Harsch was an assistant controller at Phantomhwk Memorial Hospital. He and his assistant Suzie Sheltie threw ("summarily discharged as stable") Elizabeth out of the hospital for lack of health insurance in Part 10 after Kerry caused the Vizh-bot to blow Elizabeth and Sally up. Elizabeth doesn't forget that sort of thing.

Visionary's deposition is occurring the day before Lisa's call to Elizabeth as described in "Lisa J. Waltz and the Heart of Darkness #20."

Baron Otto, Roland and the Screwy-Doo gang will appear next issue, I promise.






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