Tales of the Parodyverse

The Case Against the Lair Legion


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The Hooded Hood reveals the truth
Wed Jun 25, 2003 at 11:40:37 am EDT


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A request

killer shrike
Wed Jun 25, 2003 at 02:42:03 am EDT

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Mr Epitome sat at the far end of the office table and sipped his coffee. “So, the Lair Legion… Security risks?”
“Oh yes,” agreed Presidential Advisor on Metahuman Affairs Herbert P. Garrick. “Nothing but a pack of ringleaders.”
“The Legion has done a lot of good over the years,” LL Liaison Officer Amber St Clair argued. “You know, saving the world, stuff like that.”
“He didn't ask whether they saved the world,” Garrick pointed out. “He asked if they were risks to national security.” The bitter G-Man hurled a pile of dossiers over the polished surface of the conference table. “It's hard to know where to start,” he confessed.
“Start with Fin Fang Foom,” Mr Epitome commanded. “The dragon.” The paragon of power hadn't yet been in any meeting with the current Chair of the Lair Legion without ending up in a row with him. “Didn't he start out trying to conquer the planet?”
Amber St Clare fielded this one. “He claims he was a different person – er, reptile - then. Apparently the Makluan alien that crash-landed on Earth was one of their criminals or something. He was sent into dormancy shortly after landing and woke up hundreds of years later to briefly menace humanity. Then there was this mind-swap where an adolescent boy inhabited the dragon's brain.”
“So we have the most powerful alien on the planet controlled by a juvenile,” noted Mr Epitome. “Interesting.”
“That was some time ago now,” Amber explained. “There was this alternate universe time anomaly that…”
“The dragon is a security risk,” Garrick interrupted. “Apart from being an alien allowed to run the world's foremost superhero team, he's also the one who has most prosecuted against government oversight of Legion activities.”
“The Lair Legion dredged up the old 1940's Superheroes Empowerment bill, modified by UN Security Council Resolution 333, the Metahuman Affairs Act of ‘97 and a bunch of other stuff to limit the oversight they could be subjected to,” Mr Epitome recalled.
“They have a very, um, enthusiastic lawyer,” Amber said diplomatically.
“It's not just Foom that's questionable though,” Herbert Garrick continued. “Why is nobody bothered about the Canadian contingent?”
“That is a little troubling,” admitted Amber. “Hatman and Goldeneyed are both Canucks, and former members spiffy and Exile were too.”
Garrick spat. “And other former members were mutate terrorist Magnetic Techbird, mass-murderer Messenger, self-exposing drunkard anarchist Space Ghost, nonhuman environmental activist Banjooooo, gender-bending alien rabbit fetishist Yo, radical feminist berserker Troia, violent urban vigilante Dark Knight, fake man Visionary, property-wrecking illegal-goat-parking self-proclaimed hemigod Donar…”
“Just the current team for now, please,” Epitome interrupted.
“Well, Sorceress uses the black arts,” the G-Man ventured. “It's rumoured that she's lost control of her power on occasions and gone very black. CrazySugarFreakBoy! is a constant troublemaker, playing to the media and pandering to their basest instincts. Plus he’s hooked up with the whole Gideon Book Odyssey Enterprises empire, with serious big business interests. Cressida is a genetically-modified tapeworm inside a petty Scots delinquent of no discernable worth with a dozen restraining orders against him regarding boy bands. And if only a fraction of what the Daily Trombone prints about Goldeneyed is true…”
“There are a few concerns,” conceded Amber. “I had to work very hard to get a Presidential pardon for Pegasus.”
“That's because she was deputy-leader of the international criminal cartel called the Scourge!” Garrick almost shouted. “She was a mercenary-for-hire! She's worse than Ziles, who is some kind of intergalactic thief, exiled from her own world for untranslatable crimes! And these are people we give access to secure information channels!”
Amber tried to put forward the positive side. “Dancer does a lot of charity work.”
“And allegedly lets criminals go if they promise to be good afterwards,” Mr Epitome noted.
“But they mostly are,” the LL's liaison argued.
“The truth is that every one of the Lair Legion is untrustworthy, dangerous, and out of control,” Garrick insisted.
“Well what about Nats, then? Nats is harmless.”
Garrick snorted. “Except that he works for ITC, the Interdimensional Transportation Corporation, and even now we don't know who's behind the company or where they got their tech.”
Mr Epitome flicked through the files in front of him. The case for mutual co-operation with the Lair Legion wasn't very strong.
“Even their support crew are suspect,” Garrick ranted on. “Flapjack, former and possible current henchman of the Hooded Hood! Lisette, a delinquent sado-slut-Lisa-wannabe! Two non-entity interns that used to do minion work for the villainous Evil Monkey! Al B. Harper…”
“Al's got an excellent security clearance,” Amber interjected.
“Only because nobody else can figure the SPUD devices he's designed. And the team is far too in bed with multinational Bautista Enterprises through their founder NTU-150 for my liking.”
“They have official connections, though,” Mr Epitome noted. “You are their liaison, Ms St Clair, and they've worked extensively with SPUD.”
“On a voluntary basis,” Amber clarified. “Dan Drury doesn't really like superheroes, but he dated CSFB!'s mother for a while.”
“So, to summarise,” the man of might sighed, “we have a huge, massively-powerful, unaccountable team of former criminals, aliens, rebels, and Canadians camped out on Parody Isle off our biggest urban centre, interfering when and where they see fit without any real supervision, commanded by an emotionally-stunted possessed dragon with a hero complex.”
“Yes,” agreed Herbert P. Garrick.
“Not exactly,” winced Amber St Clare.
“Thanks you,” Mr Epitome told them both. “You've been very helpful. You can leave the dossiers. Good day.”


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