Tales of the Parodyverse

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killer shrike
Tue May 31, 2005 at 01:45:24 pm EDT
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Maybe it's "Visionary REPOST Week?"
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It seems like I'm a week ahead of the game. I should be writing a tie-in to HH's latest Untold Tale, but since I just did a bunch of bits at a electronics convention for CSFB!/Epitome, I'm kind of geeked out. And because my last two postings had the possibly fake man in them I was stumped for ideas for as to what to do for a story. At least until I saw that a couple other people had reposted old stories, which inspired me to drag out this little exerpt from Mr. Epitome #17. Vizh is featured somewhat prominently and it also happens to be one of my favorite bits I've written. Enjoy.



Zebulon and Yo were out of the house before Visionary had set the car’s parking brake. The elf looked more put out than usual. Yo, of course, looked happy.

“Boss! We got big trouble!” Zebulon said breathlessly after he finished jingling.

“What blew up this time?” Visionary asked, fishing for the grocery bags he had put on the back seat.

The elf shook his head violently, which started the jingling all over again, “Not that! I’m used to that! Don’t you think after all the years I’ve spent here I’d be used to that?! It’s Mr. Epitome. He’s here.”

“Oh, really?” he handed a pair of bags to the smiling Yo, “That’s… different.”

“What if he’s come to arrest us? Or, or, deport us?!”

Visionary hadn’t seen the elf so worked up since they watched the DVD of The Wizard of Oz and he accused the munchkins of being poseurs, “Us?”

“Me and Yo. We’re immigrants! And you know how the feds are cracking down.”

The leader of the League of Regulars considered this, “I never thought of that. You two don’t have some type of paperwork?”

Both shook their heads, though Zebulon looked much more concerned about it than the Zorro-garbed thought being.

“Then it’s settled: Zeb, if you want to stay in America, you’re going to have to find some citizen to marry you,” Visionary headed to the garage.

“What? In like five minutes?”

“Sure,” he raised the garage door and went over to the corner, “Try Widow Gleason next block over. She’s been looking for some time. And while you’re there,” Visionary yanked a bent and charred weed whacker from a tool-filled rain barrel and handed it to the diminutive figure, “You can return this. And um, explain how it caught fire.”

“Cute Visi can be silly when he is being mean,” Yo said, when the doleful elf was out of sight.

“The bells drove me to it. So what’s really going on?” he fumbled for his keys.

“Lisa has summonsed Mister Epitome and the two of them are together in the living room,” s/he caught Visionary’s shocked look and elaborated, “Not together in the normal Lisa way, but both are talking and being flirty and inscrutably.”

Visionary sighed and kneaded the back of his neck with his free hand, “That can’t be good. I suppose one of us should go in there and find out what those two are up to.”

“The one who is being team leader, yes,” Yo agreed.

Visionary wondered when the supposed perks of being in charge were ever going to kick in.

*****


Mr. Epitome strained the Vodka Gimlet into a pair of martini glasses and then walked over to the couch. Lisa Waltz took a glass and patted the empty cushion to her right. Epitome dutifully sat, hunched forward, ready to spring up again if the situation called for it.

The First Lady of the Lair Legion had her feet tucked under her as she read the pages of the report Mr. Epitome had produced for her. A slight smirk played across her lips from time to time.

“How long did this take you to put together?” she asked after turning one of its many pages.

“Ninety minutes to research, ten to type,” he replied.

“Well, you wouldn’t be able to charge clients many billable hours, but this is fine work. If you ever retire to the private sector, you should look me up.”

The Paragon of Power nodded silently.

“You’re being awfully quiet. I had heard you were a bit of a windjammer.”

“I don’t know where- ah, Visionary,” Mr. Epitome stood as the leader of the League of Regulars cautiously poked his head into the living room, “Good to see you again,” the two shook hands.

“Likewise. So, what’s new?” Visionary asked in an innocuous voice.

“Would you like a drink Vish? Epitome’s pouring,” Lisa interrupted.

“Should I have a drink?”

The amorous advocatrix shrugged, “Couldn’t hurt.”

Later, when all three were seated, Lisa put down the papers and nodded, “Very interesting, Mr. Epitome.”

“Thank you. So do you accept?”

“I want you to run it past Visionary first.”

Mr. Epitome glanced over at his host, “I’m not sure if that’s a good idea.”

“He’s an excellent sounding board. I find he serves as a stand-in for the perfect juror: unbiased and largely ignorant to the matters at hand.”

“You think you’re funny but you’re not,” Visionary muttered in reply to the left-handed compliment.

The Exemplary Man hesitated a moment, but ultimately complied with Lisa’s request, “I want Miss Waltz’s firm to sue the Aryan Ideal. Do you recall the Tom Metzger case back in the eighties?”

“I…. don’t think so.”

“Tom Metzger is a white supremacist who was successfully sued by the Southern Poverty Law Center for inciting the murder of an Ethiopian immigrant in 1988. The judgment was for $12.5 million. It bankrupted Metzger’s organization.”

“And this would work on the Aryan Ideal?”

“Yes,” Epitome nodded, “The Pogroms of Purity has connections to several smaller, less organized racist groups. I was able to find fourteen examples of people assaulted or killed in the last six years by members of such groups. Any one of those victims or their families could be used as a client to strike at Braun.”

“Used as a client,” Lisa chuckled, “And people say I’m evil.”

“You know what I mean,” Epitome answered the slight.

Visionary rubbed his chin, “If the Aryan Ideal is responsible for murder, can’t you just arrest him?”

“No. We would be much more successful at getting a guilty verdict at a civil trial. In fact, I can’t be seen as involved in this at all, because of my connections to the government.”

“Epitome wants to make an end run around the First Amendment,” Lisa smiled, “Just playing devil’s advocate,” she said in response to the Exemplary Man’s angry glare.

“She can’t help it. Really,” Visionary agreed, “So you want to put the Pogroms of Purity out of business?”

“Exactly. The man must be stopped.”

“I agree, however,” Lisa sipped her drink, “Let’s be realistic. Metzger lost so badly because he represented himself at trial and made an ass of himself. You think Aryan Ideal is so stupid as to do the same thing?”

“If you are opposing counsel, yes. Braun looks for opportunities to preen in front of other superheroes, to remind them in the eyes of the law, he’s a superhero too. He won’t be able to resist a challenge from you.”

“That’s a penetrating analysis, but let’s talk about your motives here.”

“Motives? Miss Waltz, you must have me confused with somebody else,” Epitome said flatly, “I gave you my reason for going after Braun. There are no hidden agendas here.”

“Really? What do you think, Vish?”

“Well, one could look at what you’re doing as an attempt to get in the good graces with the Lair Legion, since Lisa is, um… First Lady. And nailing Aryan Ideal would make CSFB! happy too,” Visionary ventured.

“Very good, grasshopper. But what other message does it send to the Legion?” she gave Epitome a wicked sidelong glance.

“That he’s on their side?”

“How about, I’m doing this to Braun because he got in my way. Watch out or I might do it to you?”

“Ridiculous. Only a raving paranoid would think that,” Epitome argued.

“Good thing for you there’s plenty of them on the team,” Lisa squeezed the hero’s bicep affectionately, “And then there is the biggest reason to ruin the Aryan Ideal. He’s queering Mr. Epitome’s spin.”

“I’m not sure what you mean,” Visionary said. It sounded dirty, but with Lisa that happened a lot.

“Tell him, Epitome.”

Mr. Epitome’s voice was cold and angry, “I think Miss Waltz is implying that if Braun’s voice were removed from the debate over mutate rights, it would make it easier for me to push my own agenda.”

“Right, because even though you and Aryan Ideal want some of the same things, getting him to shut up would help your case.”

“I’m nothing like him.”

Lisa sauntered to the wet bar, “Who said you were? You’re not a hater. But you’ll do much more harm to the mutate race than he ever could.”

“I’m trying to help them,” Epitome replied, looking at Lisa, then Visionary.

Visionary started to get a vibe that things were about to take an even more serious turn and perhaps it was time to go, “Um, so Lisa, are you going to do this?”

“I’ll take it up with the partners, Vish. Don’t worry; what he’s proposing isn’t too evil. Unethical, maybe, and probably less satisfying than just smashing Braun’s face in, but it’s nothing to worry about.”

“OK, then. I’m going to start dinner,” Visionary stood. The two watched him silently, “Well, talk to you later,” and he retreated.

“So, alone again. I’d make some suggestive comment, but it’s been a long day,” Lisa found the scotch and poured herself a glass.

Epitome rose from the couch and squared off against the Leaguer, “I’m not like Karl Braun, and I’m not like your hooded paramour. I didn’t come here to play games, to see who the master manipulator is. I came asking for help.”

“And you got it. So relax.”

“I came asking for help,” He repeated, “and was accused of cynical and amoral behavior.”

Lisa looked the man in the eye, “Well, of course. That’s your nature. You’ll feel a lot better about yourself when you admit it.”

“I feel fine,” he brushed the woman’s comment off and flipped on his communicator; “I’m contacting Director Milliken of the Department of Paranormal Security and requesting reinstation. Then I’ll call a flight crew to pick me up and I’ll be out of your way.”

“Nice exposition. Anything else?”

“Yes. Thank you. I appreciate your assistance in this matter.”

Lisa Waltz laughed, “Wait until you see my bill before you thank me, big guy.”

*****






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