Tales of the Parodyverse

Post By

killer shrike posts some new, though not especially good, stuff
Wed Aug 24, 2005 at 10:04:09 pm EDT
Subject
Six in One
Originally
Another Repost: "If You Wait by the River Long Enough, You'll See the Bodies of Your Enemies Float By"
In Reply To

killer shrike
Wed Aug 24, 2005 at 10:01:31 pm EDT
<< Prev In Thread
[ New ] [ Email ] [ Print ] [ RSS ] [ Tales of the Parodyverse ]
Next In Thread >>

Six in One


Previously: Well, that’s hard to say, since this story jumps around a bit. Part of it takes place right after “The Way We (Never) Were,” where we see Epitome at the secret lab that gave him his powers and become familiar with his transformation. Then there are parts that take place simultaneous to “If You Wait Long Enough by the River, You’ll See the Body of Your Enemy Float By.” Basically all of these scenes are reaction shots by various people to how our hero has changed in an attempt to play catch up with the Parodyverse. I’ll try to explain better in the footnotes.

One: “The Prince of the Power of the Heir”


Guy Trebellino was messing with Texas with good reason: its Anglo citizens were squatters on his land.

Trebellino (not his real last name, as the whirlwind-winding terrorist descended from Mariano Parades y Arrillaga, Mexico’s President in 1844 when a border dispute brought the nation into conflict with its northern neighbor, and eventually war. It was from this that the United States gained not just all of California and Arizona, but what Guy considered Northern Mexico, Tamanulipas as well, from the Nueces River to the Rio Grande. It was this indignity more than any other that drove the mutate to wage his campaign against the Lone Star State.

At first Trebellino focused on collateral damage to infrastructure, tearing apart a Zoxxon oil field outside of Houston and various bridges and dams along the Brazos River. When these attacks failed to achieve his objective of Anglo evacuation he used his powers to devastate populated areas, though he always gave twenty minutes notice before cutting a swath of destruction through his target. Still, the Americans would not budge.

Guy Trebellino had come to the realization that if he was to accomplish his dream of prying Tamanulipas away from the U.S., he was going to have to make the land as inhospitable to any gringo who lived there. To do that meant taking lives, thus fostering a general atmosphere of dread, one where the Texans felt that any possible moment, one of the atmosphere’s most destructive forces could manifest on their doorsteps. That’s why he struck without warning in the port city of Corpus Christi, riding into town on a waterspout that reached several thousand feet in height. The circular winds reduced the city’s marina to flinders, and, clad in his ‘Cyclone Ranger’ Power Armor (bought on consignment from the Justus Screwdriver Villain Support Program) he made landfall and strode onto what he believed would be the beachhead for a highly successful invasion.

The dog posed a problem, though. Trebellino recognized Glory from the news reports, and knew it was faster, stronger, and smarter than any dog he had ‘practiced’ his powers on while a youth in Nuevo Laredo, catching up the roaming animals and spinning them until their insides took on the consistency of jelly. But he was able to keep the beast at bay. In fact, he had gotten it down to a routine: the animal would charge and Trebellino would create a windwall to send it crashing back into some nearby wreckage. He was having difficulty following through on his attack: Trebellino wanted to put Glory inside a vortex and let the winds rip her apart, but she managed to evade those particular traps. The dog was tiring, though, and soon she would be sucked up and spit out like everything else that stood in his way.

Trebellino felt a sudden change in the localized atmospheric pressure: something big and solid was moving through the air at an alarming rate. He instinctively raised his hands to summon another whirlwind to deflect it.

Unfortunately, no cyclone on Earth, meteorological or metallurgical, was strong enough to resist a loaded railroad car being lobbed at it from a quarter mile away. Mr. Epitome’s impromptu missile landed on target with a satisfying crunch.

It took Epitome seconds to blur into the battleground. He immediately ran over to where Glory had been send sprawling, clearing away debris and asking, “Are you alright?”

Glory slowly and with some effort barked once in affirmation.

Dominic Clancy looked at the wounded Border collie with a deep amount of respect. She had been able to hold Trebellino away from the city’s more populated areas, no mean feat, considering his power. He reached out to stroke her head before catching himself.

Holding his hand back he asked, “Uh, is it OK if I pet you? I don’t want to violate your, ah, personal space, or anything,” he still wasn’t quite sure how to treat a dog with a higher IQ than Einstein.

Glory responded by wagging her tail and nudging his fist with her muzzle. Dominic understood the gesture enough to give her a cautious yet friendly pat.

“Good girl,” he said hesitantly, “Or Miss. Whatever works for you.”

Glory barked that it was all working just fine.

*****



Two: “… With Fleabot as Jimminy Cricket”


The stereo system in the Idiom’s lab suddenly blared out the opening stanza to the Battle Hymn of the Republic, letting her know her latest experiment had finally popped up on the Grid.

“See, I told you he wasn’t dead,” she said to Fleabot before pressing a series of buttons on her gauntlets. A huge holographic monitor materialized next to where the pair was playing chess. An overhead image of Mr. Epitome’s battle with Guy Trebellino played out.

“That looks like a satellite image,” Fleabot observed as he pushed his rook across the board, “You hacking into the National Reconnaissance Office?”

“Nah. That spy eye is one of ours. We got a score of them watching over various hot spots,” Letitia grew serious, “Don’t tell anybody.”

“I can keep a secret.”

They observed the Paragon of Power make quick work of the tornado-controlling terrorist.

“He looks no worse for wear,” the Idiom said, “In fact, I’d say E’s lost a little weight.”

“Well, great.”

The woman looked down at her new companion, “You still think the M/ELTSER was a bad idea?”

Fleabot shook his head, “I always said it was a brilliant way to stop Epitome if he couldn’t be reasoned with.”

“But?” she prodded.

“I’m just concerned about the ramifications; for you and for him.”

The Idiom’s eyes twinkled, “Worried about my ever-lasting soul?”

The tiny cybernetic parasite chose his next words carefully, “I’m worried about how others might react if word gets out you’re behind Epitome reliving his twenty-somethings. People might think what you did took away his free will.”

“By people you mean the Legion, right?” Letitia asked with a hint of exasperation, “I suppose they could get on their high horse about this, but it would do them well to remember now they don’t have to worry about Dominic trying to shut them down.”

“Hopefully. Still, I think they might see what you did as not being all that different than what Count Armageddon did to you, when he corrupted your personality.”

“They are totally different. Medici changed my personality. All I’ve done is return Dominic to a point in his past so he can relearn his mistakes,” which wasn’t exactly true, since the M/ELTSER was designed to restrict some of his cognitive abilities in order to keep the Man of Might from recovering too fast, but Idiom figured Fleabot didn’t need to know that.

“Ah,” he nodded thoughtfully, “So it’s more of a retcon, then.”

“Ha, ha. You’re really trying to live up to your design schematics as an annoying pest. Or are you just trying to my conscience?” Letitia deactivated the screen, allowing the lab’s computers to record any relevant data future reconnaissance could reveal.

“I prefer to think of it as playing devil’s advocate,” Fleabot replied as the two returned to their game.

*****



Three: “Meanwhile, Back at the Ranch….”


The Grey Eminence considered the facts first:

Fact: Dominic Clancy, his best, most loyal operative, had been assaulted in a way that made him unusable to the Cause.

Fact: The Company he kept was already less that thrilled with his recent performance, so the removal of Grey’s greatest weapon was a direct threat to his position.

Fact: Exemplary, while competent as an agent, had the unfortunate baggage of being a sadistic mercenary whose last job had him working for a utopian cult of techno-fascists called the Shadow Cabinet.

Fact: His labs in South America were still testing the Rejuvenation Serum made from Virgil Salvage’s stolen cell samples.


With these facts Grey could make the following inferences:

One: Whoever weakened Dominic did not want him killed outright. That seemed to eliminate some of the Group’s more criminal-minded members as being responsible. Of course, that left plenty of suspects (didn’t Wilton own ‘instrumentation designed to appear as a standard pocketwatch but in fact allowed him to manipulate the progression of time for a variety of effects?’ He’d have to reread Epitome’s threat assessments again)

Two: While the promise of eternal life and health may an extremely desirable carrot to keep his rivals at bay, a significant stick was still needed, and the current candidates were wholly unacceptable.

That lead the bed-ridden nonagenarian to make the appropriate conclusion: he needed the help of an old friend:

“Computer,” his voice cracked in its parched Texas twang, “Transmit Ultra-code, Priority One, to Recipient: Regent, Rex 101101. Message: Now is the time for all good men to come to the aid of their country.”

The program that ran the Bar Naught Ranch’s communications and surveillance technology complied, sending a coded message to the man the Grey Eminence had relied on for years to get the Job done.


*****


Four: “Keeping an Eye on the Russians”


The waters of Lake Onega had a light chop thanks to the stiff northwest breeze. Doctor Gregor Vassilych joined the men who were pulling on the mainsail’s rope in order to hoist it to a point where the winds could carry them all back to Kizhi Island. It was getting close to dinner and Gregor wanted a chance to shower and dress before his guests from Tehran arrived at his farmhouse.

There was a sudden gale, and the elderly Russian felt the rope go taut and burn into his hands. His yacht’s seasoned crew reacted quickly, but for naught, as an unseen and improbable force redirected the craft so that it was actually sailing home against the wind.

“Are you hurt?” the astral form of Nadezhda Prokofiev asked her mentor as she joined him on deck.

Factor X grunted and picked up a nearby rag, “Serves me right for not wearing gloves.”

Nadya continued to psychokinetically steer the sixty foot craft to shore, “Yes, it does. Its bad for our bargaining position to have the men from VEVAK see you bleeding like a stuck pig.”

The man gripped the cloth tightly in his hands in an attempt to stop the flow of blood. He smiled, “I don’t think our friends in the Ministry of Intelligence are as concerned with matters of decorum as some of our other clients. Say, a certain ‘dowdy Hun who clings to ancient titles and outmoded modes of comportment.’”

The Mind’s Eye instinctively flipped back her gossamer tresses to demonstrate her irritation, “Von Zemo would probably faint at the sight of blood.”

“Perhaps. But the woman has managed to carve out quite a niche for herself in the underworld. Humor your old teacher and continue playing nice, won’t you?”

“First you have me doing grunt work for the Baroness, and then I’m making deliveries for those robot mercenaries. You are taking advantage of my indulgent nature,” Nadya shot back facetiously.

“Would you prefer I have sent Towel Man to parlay with the Machine Shop?”

Nadya changed the topic to something more pleasant, “There is word from America that Mr. Epitome has been crippled in some way. Amnesia or brain damage or something.

The news seemed to please Factor X greatly, “Really. Inform our operatives to see what more they can learn. This could pay major dividends for us in the future if the man is out of action for any length of time. At the very least it will reduce the number of people hunting us by one. One very dangerous one.”

The Mind’s Eye disagreed with that assessment. After all, she had come very close to killing the American during Factor X’s Sybian gambit, “Perhaps we should manipulate events so as to remove him from the field altogether, if he’s indeed weakened?”

Factor X grinned, “Perhaps. You did plan on taking a holiday soon, didn’t you? Destroying a ‘superhero’ might be a fun way to spend a vacation.”

Normally Nadya frowned on mixing business with pleasure. It was so unprofessional. Still, if the opportunity presented itself…

“I’ll have to see,” the Mind’s Eye noted as she guided the ship to port.

*****



Five: “E- (as in “Exposition”) Mail”


To: KerryS@LL.net
From: Glory@ops.gov
Re: What up, Dawg?

Hello. I am sorry it has taken so long to reply to your email. We have been busy (can’t go into more detail for reasons of national security) but now that we are in Paradopolis  I have the opportunity.

Your field trip to the Fugawi Reservation sounded like fun, though I think it was wrong to see if you could “make jerky” out of Hamboy by letting him stay overnight in one of their sweat lodges, even if he did volunteer. I think the Indian name the Fugawis gave you- “Laughing Girl who Causes Thunder” is very appropriate.

I have news: Dominic is young again! We still don’t know how it happened (I hope it’s not that ridiculous imp from the abstract dimension again), but he has regressed about 15 years to the period when he just started working as a government agent. At first I was upset because I thought he would be, but he is taking it very well. Dominic always said dwelling on setbacks was “self-indulgent navel gazing,” and a waste of time.

Not that there isn’t plenty of it to waste, since Dominic is currently on administrative leave and I’m using up my vacation days. He reads from the archives trying to get caught up on all the history he’s forgotten but we’re having fun too: last night we chased Russian submarines that patrol off the Atlantic Seaboard. I could tell he was having a good time, despite almost getting struck by a torpedo.

Dominic smells a lot happier now, even though he is more likely to use swear words and informal grammar when he isn’t thinking anyone will notice. And he has become a lot less strict: he lets me watch TV that’s not news or Disney (Have you ever seen “Veronica Mars”? It’s our favorite) and sit on the couch. He even lets me eat ice cream as long as it doesn’t have any chocolate in it. It’s great.

Do you think I’m taking advantage of his condition?

Anyway, it was good to hear from you. I have to go now and help Dominic sort through the latest delivery of personal effects that has been sent up from our old apartment in Persephone. The government has to clear them all for release before returning them to us. I hope they don’t find your DVD of Showgirls. I would be so embarrassed.

Talk to you later,

Glory, the Dawg Dynamo


*****



Six: “The Next Big Bad”


It had been dark for a long time in the Omni Competent’s world, but at last a familiar face had come with a little light.

“Hello? You awake?” the man in the black chalkstripe suit peered into the now-activated camera lens that had once provided the Omni Competent with visual contact to the outside world. The man, who had died once by the Omni Competent’s own hand (when he had one), fiddled with the containment unit’s speakers, “Can you hear me?”

“I hear you, Mr. Regent,” came the modulated reply as the machine transformed thoughts to audio signals.

Rex Regent smiled and smoothed the part in his hair, “And you recognize me. Good. So you know who I work for.”

“Worked for, I think you mean. I imagine you were replaced in this reality by my iteration. Just as I replaced your iteration in my reality.”

“Things have changed. I’m back running the Company for the Grey Eminence. And we need you.”

“For what? A doorstop?” the Omni Competent inquired while referencing his current condition as a disembodied brain. Regent laughed.

“You play nice, Clancy, and maybe we can find a new place for you to squat. Nothing like your old digs, of course. Did you really put your brain in a giant mutant gorilla? That’s wild.”

“The body had its uses.”

“I bet. But it’s your mind we need; your memories of the Organization. This world’s Epitome is officially out of the loop, and Grey needs the next best thing to help keep things from going pear-shaped. And that’s you.”

“It’s good to be needed again,” the Omni Competent adjudged.

Rex motioned for the Army technicians that flanked him to load up the containment unit onto a dolly, “Oh, I agree.”


Next: Mr. Epitome pays a visit to Artemis. But what does he want? And what do Poker Face and the Ass-Raping Ninjas have to do with things? Find out in “Hitting the Mark,” out sometime.

Footnotes:

The Idiom and Count Armageddon: in a deliberate attempt to shoehorn my characters into the “Badripoor gets taken over by Science Villains” plot from Untold Tales, I had Count Armageddon kidnap the Idiom from prison and subject her to his kaos energies, which corrupted her to the point where she wanted to kill Epitome. Her true morality returned after a visit to the Happy Place, circa “Mr. Epitome #35 or so.

The Mind’s Eye: is pretty catty in this story, especially about a certain Teutonic supervillainess we all know and love. Nadya was part of the Baroness’s cadre of criminals scattered throughout time and the globe to wreak havoc as part of Madame Zemo’s still unrevealed plot against the Hooded Hood. Her petulance can probably be traced to the fact she has to do grunt work for the descendant of a Nazi, who as a group had some issues with Mother Russia in the past. There are also references to the Machine Shop and Towel Man, who Factor X has had dealings with in Untold Tales and the Hatman/Dancer Tag Team respectively.

Rejuvenation Serum: Waaay back circa Mr. Epitome #8 (??), one of the operatives of the Grey Eminence, the Tech-Spectre, stole a sample of Virgil Salvage’s stem cells. Salvage is an immortal caveman (and a parody of one my favorite DC villains, Vandal Savage. Seriously, check out how cool he is in the Animated Justice League adventure “Hereafter”- Soft-selling Shrike) and the Organization the Grey Eminence fronts was interested in seeing if they could duplicate Salvage’s abilities. Fast forward to the “Three Families” story, which features Epitome’s and Visionary’s cast interacting, but also the reveal that the Group has hired a clone of Dr. Moo to unlock the secrets of the acquired DNA. Then fast forward to now, where it appears Oiad (last name pending) hasn’t gotten much closer to getting the job done.

The Omni Competent: an alternate reality version of Mr. Epitome who became a genocidal world conqueror, he and his ravaged world were banished to an alternate dimension due to the machinations of the Hooded Hood. He conspired with an alternate reality version of Dancer to escape their prison and replace their counterparts from Parodyverse Prime (see the “Shattered Worlds” mini from last winter). The OC was beaten and taken into US custody, though the world and the Lair Legion believe he’s dead. In an interesting coincidence, the Omni Competent’s insanely powerful host body is currently in possession of… the Hooded Hood.

Rex Regent: is a new character, but fans (or critics) of a certain DC mini series may recognize who he’s supposed to parody. As of now Rex is the right hand man of the Grey Eminence, putting him in charge of the day to day operations of a Cabal of business, political, and religious leaders who use their influence over the military/industrial/entertainment complex to promote America values and interests across the globe.








cache-dtc-af02.proxy.aol.com (205.188.117.66) U.S. Company
Microsoft Internet Explorer 6/Windows XP (0 points)
[ New ] [ Email ] [ Print ] [ RSS ] [ Tales of the Parodyverse ]
Follow-Ups:

Echo™ v2.4 © 2003-2005 Powermad Software
Copyright © 2004-2005 by Mangacool Adventure