Tales of the Parodyverse

Post By

killer shrike
Sun Oct 30, 2005 at 01:11:21 am EST
Subject
Strong Suit: Interlude Part Three
[New] [Email] [Print] [RSS] [Tales of the Parodyverse]
 		Next In Thread >>

Strong Suit, Interlude


“Side Trip to the Madhouse Continues”


Previously: Mr. Epitome has begun making inquiries into who is responsible for his memory loss and age regression. One of his prime suspects is the Hooded Hood, so he and teammate Visionary travel to Herringcarp Asylum in order to interrogate the infamous Master of Retcons. Upon their arrival the pair learns that several of the other inmates have been released from their cells and are participating in some sort of challenge apparently organized by the asylum’s master. Now separated, both Epitome and Visionary search for the Cowled Crime Czar.



“Good evening,” bade the Hooded Hood.

Dominic Clancy froze in the doorway. He stared intently at the cloaked figure who sat in one of the library’s overstuffed armchairs perusing a leather bound edition of Paradise Lost.

With a bored sigh, the tall man rose and slowly made his way to where Epitome was standing, “So good of you to finally make your way here, Mr. Epitome. I was beginning to fear the environs of Herringcarp would prove… distracting to you.”

Epitome said nothing.

“You seem to have lost your colleague. A pity. I do hope Visionary manages to survive. It would alter some of my ongoing plots if one of the more aggressive residents came across him- Mantikore or Poison Okie, I fear, would not treat Visionary with the same affection Mary Prankstar has.”

Now the two men stood across one another. The Hood looked down at the Paragon of Power with a sense of imperious resignation.

“Nothing to say?” the Mantled Malefactor inquired, “Really, Dominic: if you don’t state your case I’m going to have to return to Mr. Milton and his romanticized view of the infernal realms.”

“You smell like limestone,” Epitome noted.

The Hood smirked, affecting an air of indifference at the observation.

The Star Spangled went on, “Limestone and linseed oil. And your accent is off- minutely. Someone with normal hearing wouldn’t have picked up the errors in inflection. The gait is wrong too; you overpronate to your right. My guess is you’re trying to conceal that limp you got after the Shadowy Gunman tossed you off the Berfoygle Building in ’89.”

The man’s smile vanished. He crossed his arms angrily.

“So do you know where the real Hooded Hood is, Putty Puss, or am I wasting my time with you?”

The Man with the Malleable Mien willed his face to its amorphous default state, “You were better off talking to me. When you find the Masssster he’ll desssstroy you. He’ll lay your weaknesssesss out for the entire world to sssee. Including yourssself. Are you ready for that, hero? Ready to confront your flawsssss?”

Dominic Clancy didn’t answer. He turned and left, questing for another madman in the asylum.

*****


Mary Prankston was a resident at the Phantomhwk Memorial Hospital Psychiatric Unit who was researching a paper on the “possible homoerotic fixation” the Crying Clown exhibited towards his arch nemesis the Dark Knight. The Larcenous Lunatic took umbrage at the insinuation, and made a special trip to Miss Prankston’s townhouse to voice his objections. When he and his minion the Crime Surgeon were done with their ministrations the ebullient young doctoral student had found a new object of fascination: the seemingly most irrelevant occupant of the Parodyverse:

“W-who are you again?” Visionary asked the girl in the bone white greasepaint.

Mary Prankstar guffawed and pressed her cheek against the prone hero, “Oh, you’re such a kidder, Mistah V!”

“Ah, right,” the possibly fake man firmly but gently pushed Mary away and unsteadily rose to his feet. He tried to wipe the make-up from his face without much luck. The young woman offered Visionary a handkerchief, which he gladly accepted.

“Thanks,” Vizh said, failing to notice he was now smearing blue ink over the clown white, “Now, back to my original question…..”

Mary pouted, “Don’t do this to me, Candied Yam. Don’t tease,” her eyes took on a manic gleam, “Do you want me to prove myself again? Because I will!”

“No, no, that’s- Candied Yam?!” Visionary faltered. It sounded like a term of endearment, but he had eaten sweet potatoes before and he felt the root’s flavor could possibly mix the message.

The woman brightened immediately, “You’ve never called me Candied Yam, before, Candied Yam! I knew you’d come around,” she embraced him fiercely; “It’s a sign that we’re ready to take our relationship to the next level. Ooh, is that a rubber chicken in your pocket or are you just glad to see me?”

Vizh continued to dither, “No, I didn’t call you- relationship? What relationship?! Look, miss, I think there’s been some kind of mistake. I’m not the person you think I am.”

“You’re Visionary, the greatest man in the Parodyverse. And my hero!” the surprisingly strong grip Mary had around Vizh’s neck tightened further.

The Legionnaire began to feel light-headed, “It sounds… a lot more… balanced when … Asil says it.”

There was the crash somewhere down the hall, “Visionary!! Come out, you worthless, spineless bag of pus!” a rough voice demanded.

“Mr. Epitome?” Vizh asked hopefully.

“I’m going to flay the meat from your frail bones!”

“OK, not Epitome. Probably.”

Mary made a sour face, “Its Mantikore. That furry so-and-so just had to come try to spoil our reunion,” there was a sharp crack that echoed throughout the dimly lit hall, “and he’s found his whip too.”

A well-muscled man completely covered in thick hair stalked towards the pair. He carried a steel-tipped lash along with him. One swipe with the weapon was enough to shatter one of the hall’s marble mantelpieces.

Visionary took Mary’s hand and stumbled for the stairwell, “Run!!”

*****


Like Putty Puss, Mantikore’s true name was unknown. Authorities were aware of his background, however: an orphan who suffered from hypertrichosis and the stares of a gawking public. The boy who was raised in a circus sideshow would evenutally become one of Seedytown’s most notorious crime lords. Mantikore used his strength and cunning to rule his gang for close to five years before his arrest. It wasn’t until his capture that Mantikore proved how smart he was: convincing a judge and jury that he was in fact a deranged creature to be pitied, not persecuted, the criminal managed to avoid the Safe and instead took up residence in Herringcarp.

Now he was out of his cell, and as soon as he could find the exit he would be out of the asylum. But first, he wanted to deliver a message to the heroes of the Parodyverse….

“Visionary!!” he took the steps three at a time, “You and your clown girlfriend are dead meat!!”

Mary Prankstar skidded to a halt and turned to face the hard charging Mantikore, “Jeez, you’re stupid! Haven’t you figured out Visionary is just leading you into an ambush?”

“What?!” Vizh tugged on the woman’s arm.

“You can’t win this, Manty!” the woman called down the stairwell, “We’ve got the high ground!”

“Aiggh!” Visionary put Mary in a bearhug and carried her bodily up the stairs.

“Mistah V! Not now! First you have to kill Mantikore, then we can spoon,” she gestured at a pair of crossed cavalry sabers that hung on the wall, “There: run him through like you did to the Yurt that one time.”

Vizh dragged Mary Prankstar through the first open door he found and quickly shut it. They were in what appeared to be some manner of examination room, though one of a decidedly macabre nature. He struggled to move a bench to barricade the door.

“Look,” he panted, “I never ran the Yurt through. I’ve run from the Yurt on more than one occasion, who hasn’t- but I’ve never run him through. I’ve never run anyone through! You have me confused with somebody else!”

There was a bellow outside the door, and the snap of Mantikore’s bullwhip. Then there was the sound of something heavy being flung against the wall, then silence.

Mr. Epitome ripped the door from its hinges and glared at Visionary, “This time, try to keep up,” he muttered.

*****


“You shouldn’t talk like that to Mistah V,” Mary Prankstar instructed the American Archetype as the trio made their way through another of a seemingly endless number of ill-lit, winding passageways that made up the upper floors of the asylum, “He is an experienced adventurer, and deserves your respect.”

Epitome continued to ignore his teammate’s latest admirer, “The architecture of this place is a jumbled mess. Doric columns alongside Baroque curvilinear archways leading to Victorian era wall sconces.”

Visionary nodded, “It’s a hodgepodge all right. The Abyssal Grey told me that Herringcarp is sort of… self-aware. Maybe it’s also schizophrenic.”

“Brilliant diagnosis, Sweetcheeks! You’re like Sigmund Freud and Frank Lloyd Wright fused together! But with pecs of steel!”

Vizh felt his face go flush, “Yes… well…”

“I still say you should have let me put her in that straight jacket hanging in the examination room and left her there until we restore order to this place,” Dominic stated.

“Why? What harm is she doing? I mean, besides almost getting me killed by Jo Jo the Dog Faced Boy back there?” Visionary whispered.

“Besides that? She’s annoying and has yet to contribute to the task at hand in any meaningful way,” the Man of Might hissed back, “Though I can see why you’d want her around, given the constant stroking your ego requires.”

“What?! Are you kidding me?” Visionary was dumbstruck.

“I can hear you,” Mary announced in a singsong voice behind them.

She’d hear more. As would Epitome, “I’m not the one with all the superlative heavy nicknames,” Vizh proclaimed, “And I’m certainly not the one who has to flex and pose and constantly critique everyone else’s actions to try and prove my supposed superiority! So, I’d be real careful throwing glass stones… when you’ve got a glass house that you’re living in.”

“You tell him, Mistah V!”

“Quiet!” Dominic held up his hand to silence them. He pointed to a door, “I hear running water. What’s behind there?”

“Ask me nice,” Mary Prankstar demanded.

“Mary, please,” Vizh implored.

The harlequin squinted at the door, “I think… that might be where Poison Okie’s arboretum is now. The doctors let her work in it sometimes for therapy,” she snorted, “The saps.”

“An arboretum? Three floors off the ground?” Epitome was dubious.

“Did I stutter, Mr. ‘Oh-Pity-Me’?”

Dominic struggled to conceal his facial tic, “Fine. Let’s check it out.”

Mary nodded, but took a couple steps back from the doorway. Only Visionary noticed.

“Uh, Epitome?” the possibly fake man managed to get out before the Paragon of Power opened the door.

There was a rush of green, and both men were consumed by a tangle of slithering vines.

To Be Concluded

Footnotes:

Bonus points to the person who IDs the ‘Star Wars” quote.

The inmates of Herringcarp: As I’ve said before, All of these characters are new, though they are barely concealed ‘homages’ of villains in Batman’s rogues gallery:

Putty Puss is an analog of Clayface’s, though I imagined him less of a blob-like shape-shifter and more a master of disguise like Marvel’s Chameleon.

Mantikore is an analog to Killer Croc, with the exception that instead of that skin disorder where the afflicted looks like a lizard Mantikore suffered from hypertrichosis, which causes the growth of excess body hair. Jo Jo the Dog Faced Boy is a famous sufferer of the disease.

Mary Prankstar is, of course, a parody of Harley Quin. Instead of her being fixated on the Joker, though, she was tormented by the closest thing the PVB has to the Clown Prince of Crime, the Crying Clown, into becoming obsessed with Visionary. I figure he did it to make Mary suffer the indignity of being consumed someone so supposedly “worthless”, though if someone can come up with a better reason have at it.

More on Poison Okie next time.

Abyssal Greye: is one of the scholarly Ghouls under Gothametropolis. He took Vizh on a historical tour of Lair Mansion in one of HH’s stories, and I believe mentioned that it and Herringcarp Asylum had some kind of rivalry going on. At least I hope so: I know the concept showed up somewhere but with my limited internet access its hard to do research at times.


cpe-24-160-18-76.sw.res.rr.com (24.160.18.76) U.S. Company
Microsoft Internet Explorer 6/Windows XP (0 points)
[New] [Email] [Print] [RSS] [Tales of the Parodyverse]
Follow-Ups:

Echo™ v3.0 alpha © 2003-2006 Powermad Software
Copyright © 2004-2006 by Mangacool Adventure