“Better Late Than Never”, a tie-in to Untold Tales #299
“May I have this dance?” El Futbolista Atomico asked the woman in the blue dress. She wasn’t his usual type: too short, too… even in the more feminine dimensions, but she had bright, expressive eyes, and a grin that made his own smile broaden by reflex.
“Thank you, but no,” she replied.
“Please, bellezera, this may be my last night on Earth,” the handsome striker entreated.
“This may be everybody’s last night on Earth.”
“Si, but not everyone will be leaving tomorrow to make war with the Parody Master and his armies. Not like Xatroc.”
“I suppose that’s true. But… I have a boyfriend.”
“Surely,” Xatroc held out his hand, “he would not deny the request of a man who is to be charging into the den of the lion directly?”
The trim blonde seemed to find the statement funny, “Maybe. He can have a bit of a temper.”
“On Xatroc’s honor, on the grave of his Tio Benji, nothing improper will happen to the young lady if she does not wish it.”
“Mmhmm; just keep your hands above the waist, Mister.”
“Xatroc,” he said as he whisked her towards the dance floor, “Call me Xatroc. And you, bellezera?”
“Kat.”
*****
It was the night before humanity’s greatest battle, against the Parody Master, prospective Subjugator of All Narratives. Throughout the entire world people approached the forthcoming Armageddon in whatever manner gave them the most solace. Some gathered with their families, others met in prayer. Then there was the duo waltzing awkwardly in the ballroom of the Sylvia Plath Pavilion.
“You smell enchanting, Katharine,” Xatroc breathed in the fragrance of the woman he towered over.
“It’s just Kat. And thank you. It’s the magnolia blossom,” she referenced the white flower pinned expertly in her hair.
The man in the grey chalk stripe blazer twirled Katarina so they were both facing the same direction, his strong arms wrapped snugly around her waist, “It is beautiful, like its wearer.”
Kat grimaced and firmly took her partner’s wrists and repositioned them so they were facing one another again, “I know who you are. Xatroc: the Atomic Footballer. A supervillain from Argentina with a mad-on for Mr. Epitome.”
Xatroc’s smile wavered for a moment, “Supervillain? You wound me, Kat. Xatroc is a hero to his country, charged with the task of bringing justice to the man who had attacked it,” then, with a heavy sigh, the man solemnly declared, “That is, I should say, Xatroc was a hero. Now, because of my defeat, I am outcast. Shunned by his homeland.”
“Sorry to hear that.”
“Such is the price of failure, bellazera. Fortunately circumstances have given me a second chance to prove myself in battle against a true villain.”
“The Parody Master?” Kat checked.
“Si.”
Katarina Allen seemed satisfied, “I wish you the best of luck with that, Xatroc. I really do.”
“Gracias my dear. I will be thinking of you when I am away at war,” the dusky gentleman proclaimed, “of this night. This wonderful night.”
“It’s just one dance, Xatroc,” Kat let go of her would-be suitor as the music stopped, “And my boyfriend is back. I’m afraid you’re going to have to find someone else to spend the rest of the evening with.”
Xatroc detected the looming presence over his right shoulder. He turned and gave the muscular, severe looking man in the tuxedo a Cheshire grin, “Ah, is this him? He is not what I expected.”
Kat threaded her way between the two and into Dominic Clancy’s arms, “Dom’s much more than he seems.”
“Ah,” the Atomic Footballer felt there was something about this brute, something familiar….
Then he caught a glimpse of a pulchritudinous beauty in a red satin halter dress eyeing him from the bar. This woman was much more his speed.
“Well, thank you, Kat. I think it is time for Xatroc to follow the advice you have given him,” and he swanned away to hopefully greener pastures.
“I can’t believe they released that idiot,” Dominic glowered as he stroked Katarina’s hair.
“You’re the one who recommended him for the Deathwish Detail,” she pointed out.
“Terminus Team,” the Man of Might corrected as he began strolling off parquet floor, “And I didn’t recommend that he be allowed out of prison beforehand.”
“Well, it could be his last night on Earth. He should get a chance for a little fun. And where are we going? I didn’t know we were done dancing.”
Dominic explained, “I want to show you something. We can come back to the party later, if you want.”
“So it’s a surprise?” Kat let her boyfriend lead them on, a mischievous smile playing across her lips, “I love surprises.”
*****
“Surprised?” Velcro Vixen asked the Atomic Footballer once she had gotten him alone.
“Not really. Xatroc has made it a point to know the… statistics of those in his new profession of mercenary.”
“Flatterer,” she stretched and shook out her platinum blonde hair, “But it’s good to know you are open to a business arrangement with the boss.”
El Futbolista Atomico leaned on his elbow to watch the woman shimmy back into her gown, “For you, bellezera, I am willing to take a number of positions.”
“OK, enough double entendres. Here’s the offer: you join the Hooded Hood’s Purveyors of Peril, and he’ll make sure that you get back everything you lost getting your ass handed to you by Epitome.”
Xatroc sat up on the hotel bed, “It is tempting… very tempting. But I have already been given that chance.”
“Right: as cannon fodder,” Velcro Vixen snorted, “You want to serve as a grunt in Wilton’s army? Or do you want to join the side that’s really going to win the Parody War?”
To put an exclamation point on her proposal the lithe villainess reached under the bed and produced Xatroc’s Atomic Cleats. The man’s dark eyes widened, “Si. You may, as they say, sign Xatroc up.”
Vicki Vee tossed the lethal footwear at the lap of the Purveyors’ newest recruit, “Good. Suit up, stud. Its time to show us your othertalents.”
To Be Continued
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