The Baroness, Part 49 --
Struggle for the Eye!
A Champagne-Baroness Crossover (with special guest star Baron Otto)
[Outside of our current continuity, the baleful Baroness and the clever Champagne vie for the Eye of Argon, the celebrated mystical gem.]
The central exhibition hall of the Parodiopolis Museum of Natural History was filled this dark night with a special show, “Mystic Gems of the Mythlands.” At the sides of the hall, wrapped in shadows, Tlingit totem poles and dinosaur skeletons gazed toward the central showcase, topped by a banner announcing the “Eye of Argon, the unique scarlet emerald.” The showcase itself was spotlighted and surrounded by the customary array of laser beams, pressure sensors and ultrasonic alarms.
From a shadowed corner a short steel arrow hissed across the hall, two feet above the floor, precisely aimed through the net of security beams and striking deep into the opposite wall. It trailed a thin cable which sagged dangerously close to the floor and the pedestal on which the central showcase stood for a moment until it was drawn taut. A minute or so later, it vibrated and twanged, and soon a woman in black spandex, carrying a small backpack, began tightroping her way toward the Eye of Argon, tilting and ducking to avoid the laser beams guarding the treasure.
Some time later, the cat burglar had reached the pedestal and had deployed the usual array of high-tech devices to confuse the security systems and nab the gem. As she reached a delicate pair of tongs toward the exposed treasure, the thief was interrupted by a soft voice.
“I’ll take that.”
“Says who?” the first thief hissed.
“Baroness Elizabeth Zemo,” the newcomer stated, stepping slowly into the spotlights. She was clad in a purple uniform and domino mask, with blonde hair tumbling down to her shoulders in ringlets. “And I have the drop on you.” She raised an ominous looking ray gun.
“Nice repulsor shoes,” replied the black-clad woman. Sort of short on the traction, though.”
“My own invention. Now hand over the Eye, Champagne.”
“Sorry, I have a bus to catch.” Champagne bent her knees, pushed down hard on the cable, and sprang upwards towards the skylight. As she neared the ceiling, however, she plowed chin-first into a black web and tangled herself in its strands.
“Ha, ha, ha!” the Baroness gloated. “Are you comfy up there, Champagne?” There was no answer.
Elizabeth Zemo reached down to fiddle with the controls on the repulsor shoes. “Just dial up the anti gravs, so!” she muttered. Instead of rising into the air, though, she scooted backwards, passing through a dozen laser beams without triggering them somehow, and crashing into the wall between a totem pole and a styrofoam model of a potlatch ceremony. While the Baroness shook her groggy head and struggled to maintain her balance, Champagne found a dagger in her boot and began cutting herself out of the net.
As she finished, she reached into a pocket and withdrew the Eye of Argon, holding it with one hand while she dangled from the shreds of the net with the other and began swinging herself towards the skylight.
“Huff – so the great Elizabeth Zemo loses this round,” she gloated, flashing the gem at her adversary.
”Don’t leave just yet,” sneered the Baroness. “That’s not the real Eye. I broke in last night and nabbed it. I just wanted to see how good you really are.”
Champagne hesitated for a moment and returned the scarlet stone to her pocket. Linking a zip reel to the frame of the skylight, she then dropped smoothly on the unwinding cable to return to the tightrope she’d left. Balancing lithely on the rope, she finally responded, “Zemo overconfidence once again. I saw you casing the museum days ago, and substituted a fake while they were setting up the exhibit. I thought I might fool you by stealing the fake tonight. But the real gem’s nowhere around here.”
Stepping gingerly in mid-air toward the center of the room, Beth Zemo smirked. “How little you know of my methods, darling. I teleported the Eye out of your strongbox before I came over here. See?” She withdrew a scarlet gem from a pocket, identical to the one Champagne had flashed.
“Well, sweetums,” Champagne riposted, “I wouldn’t think that the great Baroness Zemo could be deceived by a mere holographic disguise field, but you were. Look again at that piece of glass in your hand.”
“Sugar, did you think a silly holo machine would fool me, Baroness Zemo? I teleported your hunk of glass back and got the real one from your alternate vault – the one in Liechtenstein. I have very good connections there.”
“Well, honey, didn’t you notice –“
A growling male voice came from behind them. “Foolish women, stop this bickering! I am the one person entitled to the Eye of Argon!”
“Grandfather,” snarled Elizabeth.
“It means I need the Eye of Argon as a mystic channel to the living. It is the sole scarlet emerald in the Parodyverse, and the key to manifold magics. And neither of you can leave here until I release the necromantic barrier surrounding this room. Now hand it over. Schnell.”
“Take your pick,” the Baroness replied. “I’ve got three of them.” She removed three identical scarlet stones from her pocket.
“I’ve got three also,” chirped Champagne, removing a small leather jewel wallet and flipping it open to expose her prizes.
“Wait a moment. You’re unalive, Grandfather. You can’t harm us.”
“Ja, but my associate can. Grignr, take the gems.”
The floor thumped tremedously as the bulging bulk of Grignr the Ecordian cut its way brutally through the liquid, yielding atmosphere of the shadowy venue. Tanned thews supported a superstructure of manly mass, with rippling biceps and astounding abdominals exposed to the lustful gazes of the transfixed thieves, with ruddy red skin marked with the exposures of the many scars and wounds suffered by the bestial barbarian. His face, fierce and furry with the tangled curls of an Ecordian’s barb, exposed his rabid will and indomitable heart, pumping with the wild, free rhythms of the untrammeled plains of his own homeland. A loincloth futilely screened his masculine exposures, more overwhelming to the females than the waves of the Kolisian Sea on the black granite boulders of the Blasmodian Bay.
“Urk,” mouthed Grignr, pointing to his groin.
“Ugh,” said Champagne and Elizabeth in unison.
“Get them!” commanded Baron Otto.
A melee ensued, ending with Grignr unconscious on the floor thanks to Elizabeth’s stun ray and a hard right leg to the side of his head from Champagne. The two adversaries stared momentarily at the supine barbarian and then frantically looked around the room. Six scarlet pebbles were scattered about. Baron Otto was stalking toward the one in the far corner, which was beginning to glow erratically.
“Damn!” Champagne shouted, repeating her tightrope leap maneuver to try to sail past Otto and nab the Eye.
“Donnerwetter!” exclaimed Elizabeth, revving up the repulsor shoes to launch herself at the gem.
“Which wench whacked me?” Grignr groaned from the floor.
The Baron, Elizabeth and Champagne arrived at the same location at the same moment at their top speeds, each reaching for the floor. Elizabeth was knocked forward into a diorama of Pygmies, shattering the glass and demolishing several huts. Champagne twisted her body at the last second to impact on her rear, skidding across the floor toward the exit. The Baron froze for a moment as his two rivals collided and passed through his suddenly incorporeal body.
“Bwahahahaha,” he gloated, while he prepared the spell to return to solidity. Instead, he vanished. At that moment, the alarms restrained by his other spells triggered, klaxons screaming, doors closing, et cetera.
“If you have it, I’ll get it from you if it’s the last thing I do on this earth,” snarled Baroness Elizabeth Zemo.
“Don’t play mind games with me,” riposted Champagne. “You or that creepy Baron have it for sure.”
“Until next time, Champagne,” Beth saluted, activating her invisibility field.
“I’ll get there first,” she replied, running to the zip line to carry her to the skylight.
Playing the part of Baroness Elizabeth Zemo:
J. JONAH JERKSON
Voice of the People
Note:
The Eye of Argon, by the late Jim Theis, is often cited as the worst science fiction story ever written. See, for example, Wikipedia, www-users.cs.york.ac.uk/susan/sf/eyeargon/index.htm or numerous discussions found on Google. I tried parodying the style but could only pull off a single paragraph. But the unique scarlet emerald makes a great McGuffin.
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