Tales of the Parodyverse

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killer shrike takes a Vizh story idea and runs with it
Mon Oct 10, 2005 at 04:39:30 am EDT
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Strong Suit, Part One
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“Strong Suit”


Continuity Note: I don’t exactly know where this story fits in the Narrative when it comes to continuing stories. It’s definitely post “Heart of Darkness” and the Candia storyline in “Untold Tales,” as well as all the revelations that came out in “The Morning News” and its various tie-ins. It runs concurrent with “Adventures in the Parodyverse” where Hallie gets her robot body, since that in itself is a major plot point and it also take place around the same time as the DBS/Uhuna arc of Josh’s. And I’m almost positive it takes place prior to “Far Away”, though that could change depending on how Sarah’s epic ends.

Hallie Graham, first year art major at Paradopolis University, sat in the aforementioned institution’s Student Union and stewed.

“This kind of thing shouldn’t happen,” she told to the winsome redhead who sat across from her.

“People forget things,” Uhunaluna Amadayla Excelsior! said in an effort to console the pale brunette.

Hallie grunted, “I have 4.53 Krays’s worth of available memory: it shouldn’t be possible for me to leave my sketchbook at home,” she pointlessly stabbed at her fruit salad with her Spork.

“You called the mansion?”

“Yeah. Mr. Epitome is bringing it.”

Uhuna failed to suppress a smile, “Oh. Good.”

“It’ll be good if he can get here in time for my 1:15 class,” the woman’s eyes narrowed when she noticed Uhuna’s grin, “What’s so funny?”

The Abhuman exile drank from her Diet Coke, “Hmm? Nothing.”

“Dominic’s the one who picked up the phone, and since he really doesn’t have a job other than posting his musings on that right-wing Blog of his-“

“When you called, was it to his phone?” Uhuna interrupted with a sensible question. Hallie chose not to answer.

“-he said he could bring it over,” the AI finished before checking the online traffic report for Paradopolis.

“Yes, I can see now that he was the best choice for the errand.”

Hallie frowned, “Well, of all the available candidates. Asil is busy setting up Sir Mumphrey’s meeting with the Tetrarchs of Tumult, with Ebony and the Shoggoth lending a hand with the protocol. Er, so to speak. Vizh is giving exams. Yuki and Hatman are working on the Subway Monkey Pirate Zombie case….”

“Joshua was available, and he has super-speed,” Uhuna teased.

“Yes, but once he gets on campus he’s bound to get lost on Sorority Row,” Hallie shot back, and then instantly regretted it, “I’m sorry, Uhuna. I didn’t mean anything by that.”

“You meant to imply that Joshua has a reckless and overactive libido,” the young woman observed, “I understand. It is just a joke- an example of the inter-team banter that exists among the members of the Lair Legion and their associates. Like when Miss Framlicker calls you ‘Biddie.’”

“That’s it exactly. Wait: Biddie?” the hologram’s Puzzlement subroutines caused her to blink in confusion.

“Or ‘Snippie;’ I forget,” Uhuna picked up her tray, “I need to leave before Mr. Epitome arrives. His obvious disapproval of my and Josh’s relationship makes me uncomfortable.”

Hallie would have objected and encouraged her to stay if it weren’t for the dual details that she couldn’t honestly argue that Dominic condoned what the Abhuman princess and the mutate speedster were doing and that Muffy Framlicker, of all people, was describing the hologram as a fussy old woman, “All right. I’ll see you after class, OK?”

It didn’t take Dominic long to find Hallie in the full Union hall, even with her so flawlessly camouflaged. Her glossy hair reflected the Sun’s rays that came through the building’s skylights, the shadows and shadings that should have been present with the angle of the light were present. Her skin also responded to the air conditioning running full blast, as the tiny hairs on her exposed forearms stood at attention. The breathing, heart rate, pulse rate, were all perfect simulations. If it weren’t for Hallie’s lack of internal organs she would have blended in with the crowd.

“Hello,” the Man of Might bade as he slid into the booth. He handed the thick, spiral-bound sketchpad to her.

“Thanks. Nice shirt,” Hallie commented after accepting the book that contained her homework.

Dominic glanced down at the Epitome 2004 logo stretched across his barrel chest and smiled, “Thanks. Apparently I ran for President a while back.”

“You and everybody else in the Parodyverse: Visionary, Fin Fang Foom, CSFB!, Dancer…. it was quite a story.”

“I bet. Though given all the age and nationality issues, I can’t imagine their candidacies were taken seriously by the public.”

“About as serious as the regular guys running. Where’d you find that? E-bay?

Dominic nodded, and his smile broadened, “The Internet is amazing.”

Hallie wasn’t sure if the big man was paying her compliment by association to Al Gore’s invention, but she blushed anyway, “Sure, it looks good from the outside,” she quipped, “But when you have to deal with the pop-ups and spyware up close and personal…”

She trailed off, and again used her Spork to rearrange the fruit on her plate.

“Not hungry?” Dominic asked.

“I don’t get hungry,” Hallie replied. She had just bought the food to maintain the illusion that she was just another coed who was watching her weight. She pushed the salad closer to Dominic, “Help yourself to a bite, if you want.”

Epitome complied, picking a pineapple chunk up with his fingers and popping it in his mouth, “Good,” he adjudged.

“Pesticide-free.”

“See, I miss the pesticides. Gives the fruit some tang.”

Hallie snorted and then checked her internal clock. 12:52: She really should be heading to class…

“So how’s the body?” Epitome asked after swallowing a mandarin orange slice.

“Wha-? I mean, I.. what?” she gulped.

Dominic leaned forward a bit to whisper, “The robotic one Harper designed for you.”

“Oh, that. It’s doing… good. Hasn’t come to life yet and gone on a kill-crazed rampage, which given how these things go makes it the exception that proves the rule.”

“Why aren’t you, uh, wearing it, then?”

Hallie was surprised Dominic would ask so personal a question, “Well, to be honest, I sort of considered using it only in emergencies; like if your ex-cronies in OPS come back and try to seize me as evidence again.”

Now it was Dominic’s turn to get flustered, “Yeah, that- that was dumb. Whoever is giving the orders in the Office of Paranormal Security now screwed the pooch on that,” he paused for a moment, “I called them, you know, and told them what a mistake it was to raid Lair Mansion.”

“Really?” Hallie remotely checked the phone logs back at the mansion and found that the Paragon of Power had indeed contacted his own employers from the tiny room he called his office, “What did they say?”

“Nothing of note. Though they strongly intimated that my opinion on such matters were no longer of much concern to them. But back to what you said earlier: why save the body for emergencies? Are you worried about running down the batteries?”

“No.”

“Does it itch?”

“No!” she tossed a wadded up napkin at the grinning man, “I just haven’t gotten around to it.”

“Oh. Well, maybe you should,” Dominic reasoned as he ate the last strawberry, “Then you wouldn’t waste your money on food you don’t eat.”

“I obviously didn’t waste my money this time,” Hallie gave a pointed glance at the empty plate, “and even with that body I wouldn’t need to eat.”

“But you could if you wanted to. Yuki certainly enjoyed more than her share of ribs at the barbecue.”

“Only because Trickshot dared her. And Yuki’s a cyborg, not a computerized intelligence-slash-robotic life form.”

“Potato, potahto,” Dominic countered.

“There’s a huge difference-“ Hallie tried to explain, before she was interrupted by a reedy looking boy wearing a Kangle hat.

“Excuse me, but I have to ask:” he pointed to Dominic’s shirt, “Did you really endorse that Nazi for President?”

*****


It was a little before ten AM in Las Vegas, and inside one of the luxury suites of the El Dorado Casino and Resort Hotel Benjamin “Big” Spender was waking up to his own personal nightmare.

“Mr. Spender,” came a deep booming voice from above the high roller’s bed, “It is time for an accounting.”

The man jolted awake. Floating cross-legged over him was a stranger in a padded green suit and a deep purple cloak that billowed in a non-existent wind. If that was not odd enough, the man was apparently without a head: in its place hovered a great glowing cube.

“What? What?!” Ben looked around feverishly for his escort, and felt his stomach drop when he saw her tied to a nearby chair wearing of all things, a re-breather taped to her face. Then he noticed he himself was strapped to the bed with no SCUBA gear in sight.

“Yes: though this woman is a whore, prostituting herself so men like you can satisfy their own carnal urges, I have chosen to spare her. She will bear witness to your demise,” with each word the slowly rotating cube throbbed with power.

“Help!!!!” Ben Spender screeched. The only effect was to wake up the escort, who began to struggle in her ropes.

Illusionary decided it was time to speed things up. He gestured at the video camera resting on the television at the foot of Spender’s bed. It began to record.

“Know this, Benjamin Spender: it was your greed that brought you to this fate. Yours and your family’s. The world likes to forget how the Spender fortune was made, but through the veil of secrecy and denial I see the truth!”

“Listen, buddy! My family, they’ll pay anything if you let me go. Just get them on the phone, and-“

“Silence!!” Illusionary commanded. He withdrew a comically large faucet from his cloak and jammed it into the wall by the bed. Then he delivered the pull quote for his performance, “Just as water was the source of your wealth, it will also be the cause of your ruin!”

Then he turned the spigot. Gallons of water began pouring down onto the floor. Within moments there was an inch of water on the floor, and then the water impossibly started to rise.

“Listen to me!” Ben screamed at the floating man, having been driven to hysteria at the notion of drowning in his hotel room, “You don’t know who you’re dealing with! I’m a big-time player in this town!!”

Illusionary gave a throaty chuckle before tossing off the adlib, “Why do you think you were chosen, imbecile?”

*****


“Nazi?” Dominic repeated, clearly bemused.

The student explained, “Yes. Mr. Epitome is a racist, fascist, elitist, jingoistic bastard. He should be awaiting trial at The Hague, not spreading his war-mongering screed as part of the Lair Legion.”

Dominic nodded slowly, “OK, but that doesn’t necessarily make him a Nazi, now does it? You can be a racist, fascist, elitist jingoistic bastard without actually adopting the values of the Nationalist Socialist Party, right? I mean, what’s the appeal of being a Nazi anyway? They couldn’t even beat the Communists.”

“Funny stuff. How funny did you find it when Epitome’s actions led to the death of tens of thousands of people in Sybia?” the young man raised his voice

Dominic set his jaw, “I didn’t find it funny at all.”

Hallie looked over worriedly to where the big man sat. His face was tense, but he didn’t look as if his was to jump out of his seat and, say, twist the boy’s head off. In fact, his hands were folded comfortably, almost effeminately, on the table in front of him.

Kangle Hat continued, “My friend’s family died in Ritopli during the invasion, and-“

“The invasion or the counter-strike?” Dominic interrupted, “Most of the civilian casualties were caused when Emperor Scorpion came out of hiding and murdered his own people.”

“Which wouldn’t have happened if the US had gone about capturing Emperor Scorpion the right way, instead of trying to use the manhunt as an excuse to set up a puppet government in Sybia.”

“What’s your name?” Dominic asked.

“Fred Wooley. And you are?”

I don’t think you’d like to hear that answer, Fred,“Fred, I’m not going to argue that the invasion of Sybia wasn’t flawed. We underestimated our enemy’s strength. But if you think that that country isn’t better off in the long term, even if it is the UN calling the shots now, than before America went in and cleaned out the old regime, you’ve been doing too many whippets.”

“That’s bull. I’m not some mindless, cud-chewing member of the general public who accepts whatever the military/industrial/entertainment complex tells me. My friend and I have talked to people who have been there. Who know what’s really going on.”

“Oh? Part of the local chapter of the Friends of Sybia?”

“As a matter of fact, I am.”

Dominic looked over to Hallie, “Which is a front for the terrorist organization ‘The Sons of the Scorpion.’”

“More bullshit. Do you believe everything They want you to believe?”

“If by They you mean the dedicated, self-sacrificing public servants who make it their duty to track down and capture baby killing fanatics who have more in common with the Nazis than I or even Mr. Epitome ever will, then yes. I trust them more than I do any clique that can’t stand the fact that America is special, and that we have an obligation to the world. Those people are hand-wringing, self-loathing losers, many of whom would, honestly, would benefit from a tour of duty in one of these godforsaken countries they’re so sure the United States is suborning to its will. At the very least they would finally get a decent haircut.”

Wooley’s face reddened, “That is such a load of-“

“Dominic, I’m going to be late for class,” Hallie said firmly.

“What?” Epitome once again looked over to the woman. He smiled slightly, “Oh, OK. I guess we’ll have to continue this another time, Fred.”

Dominic scooped up Hallie’s satchel before she had the chance to and the pair walked away. Neither spoke until they were halfway across the quad.

“Afraid if you left me unsupervised, I was going to toss a bowling ball at Fred?” he asked without looking at her.

“Pretty much,” she admitted.

The Exemplary Man shook his head, “Guys like Wooley are their own worst enemies with that stupid Nazi rhetoric. You want to know why the conservatives are winning the culture war? Aside from being right, of course? Because the opposition is that guy,” he gestured back to the Student Union dismissively.

“OK, the Nazi stuff went too far, but the guy did have a point about the war.”

“Did we talk politics a lot, back then?” Dominic asked, switching gears and referencing a past the two shared and now he had forgotten.

Hallie shrugged, “A little. We debated about Legion business more than anything,” she brushed back a lock of hair behind her ear and smirked, “I don’t know if you’re aware of this, but you like to argue a lot, so any point of disagreement between the two of us was fodder for conversation.”

“I bet it was fun.”

“You were a challenge, that’s for sure,” Hallie made eye contact, “Hey, can you stick around and give me a ride after class?”

“Of course,” Dominic cast a glance over to the campus’s ‘Protest Alley,’ “I’ll kill the time taunting hippies.”

The AI slugged Epitome’s arm, “Do. not. taunt. the hippies,” she paused before getting to the point, “I was just thinking you could help me get the Hallie-Bot out of storage.”

“Having cravings for some fruit salad?” Dominic asked facetiously.

Hallie smirked and slipped her schoolbag off his shoulder, “Something like that.”





Next: Hallie takes her robot body for a second spin, with Mr. Epitome riding shotgun (metaphorically). Plus, what is the connection between Illusionary and our heroes? And what part does an old enemy play in all this? Find out, in “Strong Suit, Part Two,” out some time in coming weeks.

Footnotes:

Muffy Framlicker: former lady love of Al B. Harper, former classmate of Helen Macallister (whose engrams are part of Hallie’s own personality matrix), former Miss February, former executive of the Interdimensional Transportation Corporation, former boss of Uhuna’s former fiancée Nats, Muffy is currently a partner in the EEE package delivery company. Her slights against Hallie may be a bit understandable, given the fact for years she blamed Helen for ruining her relationship with Al B. (and lets face it, as much fun as Hallie is, she can be a bit snippy), but there is a slight “pot meet kettle” element to Miss Framlicker calling anyone “fussy.”

Illusionary: is a new character. Do I even have to point out what super-cool villain he’s a parody of?

What’s Fred Wooley spouting off about?: When I first started writing on this board, my first storyline involved Mr. Epitome setting about a regime change in the North African country of Sybia. The story was meant to parallel certain aspects of America’s military efforts in Afghanistan and Iraq, except instead of Al Queda and Saddam Hussein our heroes were going up against Middle Man of Metacrime Factor X and a territorial warlord named Emperor Scorpion. The story pretty much ran from Mr. Epitome #3-13.








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