Tales of the Parodyverse

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J. Jonah Jerkson
Sun Dec 31, 2006 at 05:43:01 pm EST
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The Baroness, Part 48: Baron Otto's Happy New Year
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The Baroness, Part 48: Baron Otto's Happy New Year

The long, black Maybach limousine pulled up in front of the Pierce Heights estate. Schloss Schreckhausen loomed cold and storm black, with a certain cobwebby abandonment.

“Otto, darling, why here? Your place is deserted since that snarky granddaughter of yours got what she deserved.”

“Silence, woman. I have made arrangements. Now come inside, before you get chilled.”

The Baron walked around to the opposite door of the limousine and motioned to Gunter, the chauffeur, to open it. Extending his hand to his inamorata, he gently assisted her from the limo and escorted her to the front door. The iron-barred oak was covered with a patina of soot and mold, and the rusted lock resisted the Baron’s key. Baron Otto girded himself for a struggle with the frozen lock, but as he reached again with the key, the massive door glided open.

“Ich lebe, ihn zu dienen, seine hochwohlgeborener Hoheit,” Franz intoned while bowing. The perfect major domo then stood at a respectful attention.

“English.” The Baron snapped. “I have a guest.”

“Of course. ‘I live to serve you, your highly born Highness.’ Welcome, Mrs. Wooster. Everything is in order for a pleasant evening, I assure you.”

Franz escorted the pair into the drawing room and shimmered off to direct Liesl and Anna. The Baron grasped Agnes’ elbow and promenaded her around the room.

“And there is my first kill. A wild boar from the forests of the Eifel, when I was ten. Now look down and to the right, and you will see one of the last passenger pigeons, shot by me with Edward Gray in the swamps of the Mississippi in 1932.”

“It’s gorgeous. How could you shoot such a beautiful bird?”

“With a Sturmhalten closed bore shotgun, medium choke. A noble weapon.”

“Oh, Otto, how beautiful! A Meissen porcelain stove, in Chinese style.”

“Hmph. And here is my pair of Gruner’s antelope, last of their kind, which I bagged in Mongolia in 1935 on leave from the War Academy. The Mongolians wanted them for a breeding pair. I brought them to a better place.”

“Could I look at the porcelain again? There’s a whole cabinet over there.” Agnes Wooster gave a gentle tug against the Baron’s firm hand. There was no give.

“Not before I show you my trophies from my African safaris. I have two rooms next door.” The Baron gently directed his love into the next room.

An hour and a half later, Otto and Agnes had returned to the drawing room, where Liesl and Anna awaited them with trays of Frau Zuckerwolken’s pastries and Franz served drinks.

The Baron gestured from the love seat toward the ceiling. “And there are the vampire bats I bagged in the Amazon. The taxidermist did a remarkable job, yes?”

“Otto,” Agnes Wooster wheedled between bites of Frau Zuckerwolken’s Sachertorte, “Could we do something else besides re-living your hunting expeditions?”

“Of course. I have a remarkable homunculus ready to be decanted in the new laboratory. He’s almost perfect – except for the deformed genit—“

“No, no. Thank you, Liesl, I will have more coffee – something a bit more cultural?”

“Such as?”

Agnes Wooster thought for a moment, nibbling on Sachertorte. “There’s the midnight concert at the Stokowski Concert Hall. Brahms, Mahler and Schoenberg.”

“Goering was right. ‘When I hear culture, I reach for my gun.’”

Agnes pouted, at least to the extent that a matron of notable rigidity and recitude can be said to pout. Otto sat impassively. Eventually, the standoff was interrupted when Franz appeared from nowhere, bearing the Daily Trombone’s Weekend Magazine on a salver, and vanished again. “Perhaps a movie then,” Agnes suggested tentatively. “Visionary and the Transworlds Challenge is playing at the Odeon, and Jim Carrey’s playing Visionary. The reviews were excellent.”

“I make movies. I do not watch them. If you wish, we can see Baron Otto and the Temple of Great K-Martu in the screening room. It’s trash, but I think my performance transcends that.”

“I think I know it by heart already. The Parodiopolis Grand Ballet is doing Swan Lake. It’s so beautiful. And Krasnikova from the Kirov Ballet is the prima.”

A cold silence emanated from Baron Otto’s side of the loveseat.

“Well then, Otto, we could just possibly, if you are ready for it, go up to your bedroom for the evening.”

The sepulchral Baron Otto actually flushed. “Agnes, liebchen, remember what happened last time? Darling, don’t torture us again. Er, torture is fine, I meant, embarrass.”

“Otto, do you think I would endanger our love over this?”

“Never, darling.”

“We could try Viagra.” Agnes had an ominous twinkle in her eyes.

“Worthless. You do not understand the limitations of the unalive.”

“I understand them very well, which is why I obtained this.” Agnes reached into her purse and retrieved a vial with a glowing chartreuse liquid.

Baron Ottokar Kublai Tamerlane Attila Zemo von Saxe-Lurkburg-Schreckhausen actually flinched. “Agggh. What is that? I feel its aura.”

“Well,” Agnes Wooster smirked, “Maria knows Mrs. Van Kampen’s Elodia, who knows Guenevere Trott-Bunion’s Angelique, who knows this person Koukou Kourou – they call her a ju-ju woman, who just happens to talk with the Ghouls of Gothammetropolis York. And that darling Koukou was so happy to provide me with this little intimacy aid.”

“Agnes, you have no idea of what you are dealing with. Some of those potions can raise the dead – or raise me to heaven knows what.”

“That’s right, Otto. She also said it would take care of any resistance you had. So come with me now, you darling, masterful man, and take me to where I want to go.”

Baron Otto gulped three times, and agonizingly rose from his seat as Agnes Wooster, beaming a cruel smile, led him upstairs.

Playing the part of the absent Baroness Elizabeth Zemo

J. JONAH JERKSON
Voice of the People


















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