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killer shrike
Sun Jan 02, 2005 at 09:42:58 pm EST
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Mr. Epitome #38 (Contains bad words and implies the Republican Party is Evil)
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Mr. Epitome #38


“The Work That Defines Us”


“You’re giving notice?” Sir Mumphrey Wilton seemed shocked.

“Yes, sir. Effective immediately,” Mr. Epitome handed an envelope to the leader of the Lair Legion, “My letter of resignation is inside. I will fax a copy to Miss St. Clair. As governmental liaison she should ensure the word gets to the appropriate departments.”

Sir Mumphrey stood from his desk and came around to confront Epitome, “Dominic, I think this decision is being made in haste. I know you’re having a spot of trouble with your superiors as of late, but perhaps you could consider a leave of absence instead.”

The Paragon of Power shook his head, “No, sir. I came to this decision some time ago. In order for me to focus on the challenges my organization faces, I need to conclude my involvement in the Lair Legion.”

“And what organization is that?” Wilton asked.

Epitome understood what was implied. The old man knew about the Grey Eminence, and at least had some inkling as to the conspiracy he led. He lied anyway, “The Epitome Division. There are people who see recent events as an opportunity to restrict the group’s mandate, or dismantle it all together. I’m not going to allow that to happen.”

Sir Mumphrey knew there was more to the story, there usually was, when Epitome was involved. But he acquiesced, “So be it, then. Will young Miss Glory be leaving as well?”

For a moment Dominic looked concerned, “No,” he blurted, “Glory wishes to stay on as part of the Lair Legion Auxiliary. If that is acceptable.”

“Of course. Wouldn’t be right to turn away so sterling a student, what?” the august Englishman stuck out his hand, “It’s been a pleasure and an honor working with you, Dominic. Best of luck with all future endeavors.”

“And you as well, sir,” the pair shook hands, and parted.

*****


Clarice Grackle’s morning started out like so many others: up at 6, shower, dress, hair, breakfast, rouse Charlie, dress and feed him, daycare, and then an hour commute to the Federal Building in Chicago. From there she went up her office as Deputy Director of Counter-Terrorism for the Federal Bureau of Investigation. That’s when things took a bit of a turn.

There was a living legend sitting in the reception area. Stan Vajencz, former fourteen term Congressman, and before that four years as Illinois’s Attorney General, and before that nearly two decades of service as a police officer and city prosecutor. He was short, stout, rumpled, and had the mien of a happy pug dog.

“Agent Grackle,” with the aid of his cane he clumsily rose. Clarice rushed over to help him.

“Sir. It’s an honor to meet you.”

“Yeah. Everybody says that at first,” he joked in his gravelly, urban patois, “I bet you can guess why I’m here.”

Being an especially informed woman, Clarice in fact could, and accurately.

“I know you’re busy, and what I’m about to ask you isn’t something I think you’re not too keen on, which is why I hobbled down in here in person in hopes of earning some sympathy points.”

Clarice gestured over to the table Congressman Vajencz had sat by, “And the donuts there are a bribe?”

“You betcha.”

The petite woman with auburn hair picked up the bag and led the old man to her office door, “I guess we better continue this in private, then.”

Once both were settled Vajencz made his offer, “I want you to help me with the OPS investigation.”(1)

Clarice assumed as much. It had been all over the news that Chicago’s favorite son had been tapped to oversee the review of the Office of Paranormal Security’s Epitome Division. She had been expecting a call like this, though not the man in person.

“I know you’re doing important work here. And from what I’ve heard you’re excellent at it. But I need your expertise on this.”

Agent Grackle tried to defer, “I haven’t spoken to Mr. Epitome for five years, sir. There must be better people to consult with.”

“People in his organization, sure. But their input can’t exactly be trusted, can it?”

“Why not?”

Stan smiled. Agent Grackle was doing some investigating herself, “This isn’t going to be a witch hunt, I promise you. But it won’t be a whitewash either. There are a lot of unanswered questions about how Epitome runs his office, and I want to try to answer them. You’ll be a big help.”

“Congressman, I’m extremely reluctant to do this. It would leave the office short-handed. I’d have to relocate, I’m sure, to Washington or Persephone or wherever the investigation is being centered. And… my past association with Mr. Epitome affected my professional standing. It’s not something I want to relive.”

“I thought as much. That’s why I brought the donuts: to weaken your resolve.”

Clarice went on, “It took me a long time to get past the stigma of being ‘Clarice Grackle, Mr. Epitome’s Girlfriend’ in the Bureau.”

“But you are past it. You’ve proven yourself. So who gives a rat’s ass what any of them think? I want you to know something, Agent Grackle, whether you take the job or not. When I agreed to do this, I got a lot of advice on how to run things. From people I respect, guys like Director Soames and Dan Drury(2). And they all suggested getting you onboard. I don’t think they thought of you because you used to do whatever with Epitome. They mentioned you because you’re good police,” Vajencz leaned forward, “So what’s it going to be? At least tell me you’ll think about it.”

Clarice Grackle knew accepting this position would mean hardship. It would take her away from home and family, and reopen old wounds. And there even be an element of danger, not physical, surely, but professional.

“I’ll do it,” she heard herself saying.

A smile blossomed from behind Congressman Vajencz’s jowls, “Outstanding. When can you start?”

“Give me the rest of the week to make arrangements,” Clarice paused, “I also want to contact Epitome, let him know I’m on board. It wouldn’t be productive to make him feel like he’s being ambushed.”

“Maybe, but truth to tell, Clarice: Mr. Epitome’s one of the people who recommended you.”

Agent Grackle managed to look unsurprised, but her new boss could tell the news disconcerted her. He wondered for a moment how much truth there was to the gossip he had picked up about the pair’s relationship, and hoped it would in fact be an asset rather than a hindrance to his investigation. Too much was riding on their work if they failed.

*****


Dominic Clancy scanned the slide with the electron microscope, “What am I seeing?”

“The immortality gene,” Oiad (3) claimed with some pride, “We’ve isolated it.”

The two were in a lab secretly own by the Grey Eminence outside of Rio De Janeiro, part of a series of bungalows in a well secured compound. Epitome was in his civilian garb while Oiad wore a lab coat and her creator’s trademark knee high cow boots. She continued explaining.

“It’s dreadfully mutated, composed of proteins that have no known terrestrial origin, but its there. I’m quite stoked about it.”

Epitome nodded, “Congratulations.”

“Replicating the gene is going to be difficult. So far our deconstruction of the alien DNA samples on hand haven’t produced the requisite aminos for raw materials. I may have to synthesize them,” she sipped at her smoothie, “and then there’s the matter of coming up with the appropriate catalyst to make the gene compatible with the human genome.”

“But you can do it?” Dominic Clancy checked.

“Sure. It’s going to cost, though. That pitiable budget you gave me won’t even come close.”

The Paragon of Power smirked, “Expect an influx of revenue very soon.”

*****


Montiver Hole was having a bad morning.

“Taxed?!” he hollered over his secure line.

“Yup,” the Grey Eminence affirmed, “And you can lower your voice, Monty. My hearing’s fine.”

“The Group (4) doesn’t have the power to tax its members!” the chairman of ZOXXON Oil protested.

“We voted to amend the charter. It wasn’t too hard. Your little ‘oil to water’ scam hurt a lot of people, even excluding your rivals.”

Hole stiffened, “I don’t know what you are talking about.”

“Bullshit. I don’t know how you did it (5), but it was you. And we’re not happy, Monty. It was grandstanding. Punk ass super villain stuff. So, since ZOXXON has recorded record fiscal profits this year, we’re expecting it to pony up an additional $70 million for the Cause.

“And if I refuse?”

“Then you’re out. And then I unleash my boy on ZOXXON.”

Montiver Hole didn’t like those particular alternatives, “Fine.”

“Smart call. And Monty, ease up on the gouging. I want the economy strong enough in ’06 so we can try to get our numbers in the Senate up to sixty. We gotta keep our eye on the long term.”

“Right,” Monty sulked.

“Especially if we plan on livin’ forever.”

*****


Exemplary stood on the veranda to his brand new South Beach condo and inhaled the salty, sultry air. His contact called over from his brand new entertainment center.

“James Bond fan, huh?” Henry St. Ides noted after perusing Exemplary’s brand new DVDs.

“Who isn’t?”

Henry strolled over to enjoy the view as well, “So, did the Shadow Cabinet (6) set you up in digs as fine as this?”

Exemplary glared briefly at St. Ides. He knew him by another name: Tech Spectre, a freelance corporate spy/saboteur who had made life difficult for Mr. Epitome in the late Nineties. Exemplary was surprised to learn the mercenary now worked for the Man of Might.

“I mean, they always struck me as a bunch of humorless techno-cultists. ‘The Machine God?’ ‘The Final Thought?’ That’s some wild shit.”

Exemplary shrugged, “They paid the bills. You make it sound like the Grey Eminence is the second coming of Hugh Hefner.”

“Hey, he could be at that. I’ve never met the man. My go-between for the Group is Epitome.”

“Well, he hardly fits the Playboy Profile,” Exemplary decided to try and get a read on Ides’s view of his supposed superior.

“Hardly. The only time I’ve seen Epitome smile is when he’s about to ruin a body’s day. But as long as you follow orders he’s all right,” Henry grinned at the slightly shorter man, “It isn’t worth screwing with him, believe me.”

“Clancy does seem to have it all wired, doesn’t he?” the Black Ops Specialist asked rhetorically.

To Exemplary, that just meant it would be even more pleasurable taking it all away from him.

*****


Glory was waiting for Mr. Epitome when he finally checked into his suite above the Epitome Division Headquarters in Persephone, Virginia.

“You did it. You quit the Lair Legion,” she stated in her unique language of barks and body movements.

“Yes,” he dropped his rucksack and headed for the kitchen.

“I am very upset by this.”

Dominic quickly put together a sandwich and offered half to Glory, who pointedly refused. Epitome put it in her bowl for later and sat at the table.

“They were good for you,” the Mutt of Might continued, “and you liked them. You told me so.”

“I liked some of them… all right, most of them, but Glory, that isn’t enough to warrant me staying on. My powers come with certain responsibilities, and I cannot afford to lose focus on those responsibilities.”

“You say that all the time,” the young Border collie shot back, “I do not think I believe you anymore.”

Epitome felt his heart drop, “Glory.”

“I am very tired. May I please go to bed?”

“You may.”

The Dog Dynamo wandered off. Dominic Clancy finished his meal and cleaned up. Then, feeling a bit fatigued, he went to bed himself.


Next: Remedy.

Endnotes:

(1)    Mr. Epitome’s conduct has come under fire recently from Congress, which charges that he has been negligent in his duty as an agent of the Office of Paranormal Security. See Mr. Epitome #36 for more details.

(2)    Director Aaron Soames oversees the Office of Paranormal Security, a law enforcement agency that investigates and coordinates responses to metacrime and metaterrorism. Mr. Epitome ran his own division separately from the group until recent events. Drury, of course, is the head of SPUD, the Supreme Principal Undercover Directorate, as spy group that has a somewhat similar mandate to OPS.

(3)    Oiad is the clone of Dr. Moo, a noted geneticist and one of the Parodyverse’s most nefarious villains. Epitome sought out Moo in order to acquire her aid in cracking the genetic code of Virgil Salvage’s immortality. He encountered and recruited Oiad instead.

(4)    The conspiracy the Grey Eminence chairs is made up of several corporate interests. In addition to his own company, Grey and Branch Construction, it has been revealed that Harry Flask, ZOXXON, Ron Y. Avis, Wolf Media, and the Red Right Hand all have representation in the cabal.

(5)    But we do: see Baroness #11 for details.

(6)    A mysterious cabal that either the Grey Eminence’s conspiracy was part of or ran concurrent with. There big goal was to resurrect an ancient psionic force called the Final Thought (or Machine God) and bring order to the Parodyverse. Their story is detailed in Untold Tales #113 “Untold Tales of the Parodyverse Ancient and Modern Revised,” again, another of my favorites.
















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