Tales of the Parodyverse

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killer shrike
Sun Apr 24, 2005 at 11:10:20 pm EDT
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More Mr. Epitome/CrazySugarFreakBoy! Team Up
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Still Haven’t Got To The Point Yet Where I Can Say The Title



Dominic Clancy was nonplussed when CrazySugarFreakBoy! rushed around the back of the car to hold the door open for his fellow back-seat passenger, April Alice Apple. The Man of Might already had his keys out on one hand on his door handle when he looked across to Hallie waiting on the opposite side. She wore a slightly perplexed expression. They froze in place, unsure exactly what protocol the situation warranted.

The Wired Wonder broke the silence, “Come on,” he pounded the front seat head rest, “Let’s get this road trip started.”

Hallie quickly pulled open the door and dropped into her seat. Dominic repeated the actions on his own side.

“Seatbelts, please,” he noted as he buckled himself in.

“Sure thing, Dad,” Dream grinned facetiously. There were a few giggles in the back as he and April ‘helped’ strap the other in, and then they were off.

“I brought those drawings, Hallie,” April told the holographic artificial intelligence. She produced a wire bound sketchpad from her immense handbag and passed it forward.

“Thanks,” Hallie replied. April was an editorial cartoonist and comic book author. As a newly-minted art student Hallie was interested in getting a look at her style of drawing.

“That’s from my ‘Ditko’ period,” the creator of Groovy Gecko Gal commented as Hallie flipped through her work.

Hallie nodded, “I can see the influence- Whoa!” she gasped as she came across a portrait decidedly more… graphic than what Stylin’ Steve used to draw, “Whoa!!” she repeated when she turned the page and found more of the same.

“Oh, yeah, I like that one,” CSFB! leaned over to comment, “Let me describe what Hallie’s looking at so you don’t feel left out, big guy,” he helpfully offered to Epitome, “It’s Betty Brant arching her back while-“

“Enough,” Dominic cut Dream off.

“Really good stuff, April,” Hallie returned the sketches to their owner.

Once the offending notebook was out of his line of sight Epitome looked over to the hologram, “Have you registered for your courses, yet?”

“Still in the process. I keep going back and forth on what to take for an elective,” she smiled coyly, “ Libertarian Ideology in “The Simpsons” looked interesting.”

“Yes, you could take that. Or you could just flush that portion of your tuition down the toilet,” Dominic shot back with a grim smile.

The pair continued their subdued back and forth on the merits of Hallie’s course selection. It was sort of sweet, Dream decided, in a repressively detached sort of way. Epitome could be subtle when he made the effort. CSFB! decided it was necessary to stir things up a bit:

“Say, we were talking about something in my Poly Sci class that may interest you two. What do you think about the idea of giving Robo Americans the right to vote?”

Things got decidedly less subdued after that.

*****


Doctor Mitch Carlin parked his van in the Paradopolis Civic Center Loading Zone and jumped out. He was immediately accosted by a gruff looking man with a clipboard.

“You gotta pass?” the teamster inquired.

Mitch pulled his forged laminated badge from under his jacket and pinned it on his lapel. The man checked his list.

“Garlin…. yeah. You’ve reserved the VIP room,” he checked him off, “You need help unloading?”

“No, thank you. My associate and I have it.”

A lanky man with a pony tail and a “Free The Monarch” tee-shirt had swung open the van’s back door and starting unpacking a series of boxes.

“Be careful with those, Dwight,” Dr. Carlin told his flunky once they were alone, “There’s radioactive material in there.”

Dwight became antsy, “It’s not going to explode, is it?”

“No, but keep treating the cases like they’re Hacky Sacks and you’ll find yourself as sterile as Howard Hughes’s bathroom sink.”

“Uh…”

“Just be gentle, OK? That machine is going to make us rich, provided it gets to the,” Carlin checked his itinerary, “Mauve Room without damage.”

“This would be easier *grunt* if Wilmer were here to help.”

Carlin brought over a two-wheeler to help with the loading, “Wilmer is checking up on our prospective buyers.”

“The easy job,” Dwight frowned.

“Right. Until Madame Venomous or Poker Face mistake some perfectly innocuous slip of grammar as an affront and decide to make an example of him in some baroque manner,” the scientist shook his head, “Believe me, the less interaction you have with the villain types the safer you’ll be.”

*****


Wilmer was becoming aware of that ugly truth at the hands of Googol Volt.

The costumed mercenary had caught up with the associate of his target outside the convention center and had brought him to a back alley for interrogation. He hit the pudgy college student with enough electricity to hurl him into the fire escape.

“So it’s just you, some other geek, and Carlin?” Googol Volt inquired in his own thrumming patois, “No muscle?”

“N-n-n-o,” Wilmer managed to get out.

Googol Volt smoothed back his mask’s wings and chuckled, “Even if I didn’t show up you losers were going to get hosed. None of the guys you contacted would have given you a dime for the Sandal Machine if they thought they could just take it from you.”

He pointed his finger at his captive and shocked him into unconsciousness. Then picking up the man’s credentials and his own slouch hat, he donned both and made plans to attend Carlin’s demonstration.

*****


“The point is moot. According to the Constitution a person must be eighteen years of age to be eligible to vote. Seeing as how there is no way to prove any manufactured intelligence has been in existence for that amount of time, the right of suffrage is denied to them,” Mr. Epitome dictated as he drove the car through the Civic Center’s above ground parking.

Hallie was unconvinced, “Let’s ignore the legalistic interpretation-“

“Ignore the Constitution?!?” Dominic was incredulous.

“Oh, like it would be a first for you,” Hallie fired back, “What about the moral argument? Why is it right to deny a sentient being a voice in how their country is run just because they weren’t born in a traditional manner? That’s a violation of their civil rights.”

“OK, then, how do you determine what qualifies as sentient? Do we administer an IQ test? Have some psychotherapist evaluate them?”

But something the Paragon of Power had said seemed to take the fight out of Hallie, “Who qualifies,” she muttered.

“I beg your pardon?”

“You said ‘what qualifies as sentient’ when it should be ‘who qualifies.’”

Dominic sat quietly for a moment but slowly nodded, “Yes. I suppose you’re right. My apologies.”

“Forget it,” the hologram concentrated and assumed her more mundane appearance, with pale skin and jet black hair, “Let’s just park and see what there is to see.”

Epitome nodded again, and then gave a hard stare into the rearview mirror that was clearly directed at Dream. The younger man caught it and smiled back.

The Wired Wonder didn’t understand how Epitome could expect him to feel guilty over the outcome of the discussion. Well, he could, because Epitome, like most autocrats, was also a hypocrite. But all Dream had done was introduced the topic. It was Clancy’s warped value system that showed him as an unfeeling ass. Really, if Hallie was upset, Epitome had no one to blame but himself.

Right?

To Be Continued

Footnotes:

I’m kind of leery about this one, because part of me worries I made CSFB! look like a nasty manipulative busy body, hence the question at the end (and the relative shortness of the story in general, since I’m interested in gauging reactions before pushing on ahead) and that really wasn’t my point.

Other stuff:

Robo Americans: are a semi-secret race of robotic suburbanites who have made their home in North America. They first showed up in a Fin Fang Foom story and may be creations of the scientist Weed Writchards. Noted members include Mindy Pyrite (RIP) and Inspector Rosario Hudson of the Royal Canadian Mechanized Police. The voting rights idea came from a story suggestion HH offered many moons ago.

Ten points to whoever gets the tee-shirt reference.

Villains: Madame Venomous and Poker Face are new characters, and basically just throw away names (though one may show up next time). Googol Volt has been mentioned a couple of times in stories, though I don’t think he’s actually had a speaking part. Imagine him as a juiced-up Electro with a slightly less goofy costume.





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