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The Double Date of Infamy ... Thursday, 09-Mar-2000 09:36:13
And now, the Lair Legion/Abandoned Legion crossover that you never would have expected (with profuse apologies to both Sorceress and Cobra ...)!!! (This story takes place just before the current “Bring On The Bad Guys” ongoing arc in both Parodyverse and CrazySugarFreakBoy! continuity) Hatman: “No.” CrazySugarFreakBoy!: “Come on. It’ll be fun!” Hatman: “No.” CrazySugarFreakBoy!: “Don’t you like her?” Hatman: “Well – ” CrazySugarFreakBoy!: “Please. I can tell you like her, so don’t even try to pretend that you don’t.” Hatman: “Maybe. But that’s not the point – ” CrazySugarFreakBoy!: “I’m pretty sure she likes you too. Or at least, she probably likes you enough that you have a chance of making her like you a little bit more.” Hatman: “Hm. You really think so?” CrazySugarFreakBoy!: “Of course!” Hatman: “No, wait – that’s not important. It’s still not the point.” CrazySugarFreakBoy!: “Then what is the point, anyway? Why are you so against doing this? What possible reason could you have for thinking that this is a bad idea?” Hatman: “Where do you want me to start? Even if I didn’t find the idea of trying to put the make on people whom we trust with our lives, and who trust us with the same responsibility in return, unforgivably unprofessional, there is the minor matter of the fact that she doesn’t like you.” CrazySugarFreakBoy!: “What could make you think that she doesn’t like me?” Hatman: “Um, maybe the fact that she told me she hates you, and that she’d kill you with her own two hands if she ever laid eyes on you again?’ CrazySugarFreakBoy!: “Aw, she just doesn’t know me well enough yet. Once I manage to bring out her now-dormant sense of humor, we’ll get along just fine. All that the situation requires is one or two practical jokes, to add some much-needed levity to the proceedings.” Hatman: “Look, I may not be an expert in the ways of love like yourself, Doctor Jones, but I’d lay even odds that your last little ‘practical joke’ is part of the reason why she’s not too fond of you right now.” CrazySugarFreakBoy!: “Geez, you’re never gonna let that one die, are you? I mean, how was I supposed to know she wouldn’t be flattered by having those pictures I bought of her, scrubbing herself down with a loofah in the shower, posted on the internet, so that everyone else could see for themselves how beautiful she is? I even put them up on my mom’s Sexxxy Spandex Superheroine Sirens site, right next to the shot of my mom in a finger-lickin’ three-way with Wonder Woman and Lois Lane, as a sign of respect and affection.” Hatman: “Okay ... in case I ever forget, make sure and remind me that you and I need to have a long and serious talk about your upbringing. In the meantime, I’m too tired to bother arguing with you. I don’t even know why I let you talk me into it this far.” CrazySugarFreakBoy!: “Erm, because we’re lifelong best friends and crime-fighting partners, just like Green Lantern and the Flash?” Hatman: “At this point, that’s definitely the wrong answer.” CrazySugarFreakBoy!: “Perhaps, is it because I have such a persuasive and winning personality that you can’t help but be won over to my way of thinking?” Hatman: “Nope. Try again.” CrazySugarFreakBoy!: “Oh, I remember! The only reason that you ever let me talk you into going right up to their doorstep is because, if you don’t go through with this, I’ll tell her that you also bought the nude pictures of her that that Flapjack guy was selling - except that the ones you got ahold of were a lot more revealing.” Hatman: “What!? I didn’t buy any of them! I only glanced at them for a few seconds, and then only because that weird hunchbacked guy was practically shoving them in my face, to try and get me to pay for them. Besides, you can’t prove that I did anything.” CrazySugarFreakBoy!: “If she hears about it, she won’t let you live long enough for you to convince her otherwise.” Pause. Hatman: “I hate you, you know.” CrazySugarFreakBoy!: “Ha ha! Oh, come now, you don’t really mean that! You need me, after all. Without me, you wouldn’t have anyone in your life to help you live more adventurously ... admittedly, against your own will at times, but it’s all for your ultimate benefit. You’ll see. When you’re all grown up, you’ll thank me for all these character-building experiences that I've so generously bestowed upon you.” Hatman: “Get this straight. Just because I’m less than a year away from 18, and you’re legally considered an adult for no other reason than the fact that you’re over 21, that does not, in any way, shape or form, make you the slightest bit more mature than me.” CrazySugarFreakBoy!: “Two words: beaver shot. All I have to do is utter that magical phrase, and she will hunt you down to the ends of the earth, no matter where or when in existence you try to run or hide. You know this. I know this.” Hatman: “Fine! I’ll ring the stupid doorbell! See if I care, when she impales you with fifty daggers before you can even blink. Rassum-frassum spastic candy addict ...” The door swung open before Hatman even had a chance to knock. Sorceress: “Yes?” Hatman: “Um, hi Sorceress.” Sorceress: “Why, hello there, Hatman! It’s such a pleasant surprise to see you and, erm ... Mister CrazySugarMan – ” CrazySugarFreakBoy!: “CrazySugarFreakBoy!” Sorceress: “Right, CrazyFreakSugarBoy – anyhow, as I was saying, it’s such an unexpected pleasure to see two members of our more prominent partner team, the Lair Legion, perched upon our humble doorstep. Especially when one of them is you, Hatty. So, what can we of the Abandoned Legion do for you two kindred souls?” Hatman: “Ah. Yes. Well, um, we were, you know, just kind of in the neighborhood, so, like, we figured, hey, why not swing on by the ol’ A.L. headquarters, and – ” CrazySugarFreakBoy!: “Wow, you take forever to do this! Let me take over here. Sorceress, Hatman really likes you, and since he’s pretty sure that you like him back, he wants to go out with you.” Hatman: “You realize, of course, that you will die for this. Slowly. And painfully.” Sorceress: “Why Hatty, I do declare! Are you being so bold as to ask me out on a date? I’m so overcome, I may well faint!” Hatman: “Yeah, look, I’m really sorry about this. It wasn’t my idea, but CSFB! told me, if I didn’t go through with this, he’d – ” Sorceress: “I accept.” Hatman: “Um, what?” Sorceress: “Hatty, I would be delighted to have such a handsome gentleman escort for a night out on the town.” Hatman: “So, you mean, you’d actually like to go out with me?” Sorceress: “Of course! For one night out on the town, at least. I mean, I believe that is what I said, just now. After all, why would I say no to such a charming suitor?” Hatman: “Eh, well, you might be surprised on that one – and not in any pleasant way, either. See, one of the conditions of you going out with me is that, um, Cobra would come along ... as CrazySugarFreakBoy’s! date.” Sorceress: “Oh. I see.” Hatman: “Yeah. So, ah, I guess you see what the obvious problem with that scenario ever happening would be.” Sorceress: “Hm. More than you know, I’m afraid.” Hatman: “Why do you say that?” Sorceress: “Because Cobra’s standing directly behind you, right now, and from the expression on her face, I’d say it’s a safe bet that she’s heard every word you two have said since you first set foot on our doorstep.” Cobra: “Sssssss ...” Hatman: “Oh no.” Cobra: “So you thought that I’d find that prank of yours funny, did you? Well, in that case, I’m sure you’ll find my sense of humor to be equally amusing. I like to call this first little joke, ‘What happens when you pull someone’s spleen out of their body, through their sphincter, using only a pair of red hot knitting needles’ ...” Hatman: “Mommy.” Sorceress: “Cobra, wait! Stop this petty nonsense immediately! There are other, much more constructive and rewarding ways of solving this problem.” Cobra: “Like how?” Sorceress: “I’ll explain everything to you in private. Just accompany me to the living room for half a minute.” Cobra: “You have fifteen seconds, before I get out the plunger and the banana gun.” After the two women engaged in their furtive exchange of words ... Sorceress: “Alright, after much discussion, I believe that Cobra and I have worked out an equitable compromise. Not only is she willing to let you both live, but she’s even agreed to accompany CrazySugarFreakBoy! on our double date.” CrazySugarFreakBoy!: “Woo-hoo! I knew it. My irresistibly attractive appeal to the opposite sex wins out yet again!” Hatman: “Seriously? You’ve gotta be kidding, right?” Sorceress: “Girl Scout’s honor, Hatty. However, in exchange for these favors, Cobra and I have a few ... extra conditions of our own, requests that must be met if we’re expected to go along with this idea.” Hatman: “I’m almost afraid to ask, but – such as?” Cobra: “First of all, you two will pay for us to dine at a proper restaurant, one which does not serve fast food or feature any form of video game entertainment. We are not witless little girls, but rather mature women of worth, and we deserve no less than to be treated as such. Is that understood, boys?” CrazySugarFreakBoy!: “Aw, but I had my heart absolutely set on the local Chuck E. Cheese’s. They even installed this brand new ball crawl that’s so deep they won’t even let little kids into it anymore, since they could actually drown in its depths. I was so hoping to explore the depths of that multicolored plastic sea, like Aquaman and Namor.” Hatman: “Some dreams, no matter how dear to your heart, you just have to learn to let go of eventually, man. I mean, that’s just my advice on how to handle it, anyhow. But considering that your other choice is probably a long and drawn-out session of painful castration at the hands of the snake-lady, I’d say it’s a pretty decent trade-off, eh?” Cobra: “Next order of business: we will not consent to being displayed upon your arms, like mere trophies of sexual conquest. You must earn the right to escort us in public, by demonstrating your true value as gentlemen, so that we may be seen in your company without any embarrassment to ourselves. To accomplish this task, you will not be allowed to hide your behind your childish masks of so-called superheroism, nor will you be allowed to shore up the more unsavory aspects of your character by relying upon your reputations as costumed crime-fighters. Therefore, during our evening out, we will address each other solely by our civilian names ...” CrazySugarFreakBoy!: “Hm. That doesn’t seem so bad, really. I mean, I’m pretty sure everyone knows my real-life name, so that won’t be too much of a stretch.” Cobra: “... And no super-powered costumes, or any other such artificially enhanced articles of clothing.” CrazySugarFreakBoy!: “No, wait, stop – what does she mean by, no super-powered costumes? No hatility belts, no SillySuits, what?” Hatman: “Well, college boy, I’m no authority on language interpretation, but it sounded to me like she meant, no super-powered costumes.” CrazySugarFreakBoy!: “Yeah, but see, that’s exactly what I’m getting at. It’s like, I understand the individual meanings of all those words that she used, but when she strings them all together, in the same sentence like that, they don’t make any sense anymore.” Hatman: “CSFB!, I don’t know how to break this to you, old buddy, but ... for one night, at least, the SillySuit is gonna have to stay at home.” Cobra grinned wickedly. CrazySugarFreakBoy!: “But – but what in the heck else am I going to wear?” Hatman: “Geez, how should I know? Don’t you have any regular guy clothes in your closet?” CrazySugarFreakBoy!: “You know, I honestly don’t even know anymore. Aside from right before I became a superhero, I can’t even remember the last time that I wasn’t in costume.” Hatman: “Oh, wow. Um, is that even healthy, considering that you have to be on a constant sugar high all the time, in order for your suit to work at its peak whenever you’re wearing it?” CrazySugarFreakBoy!: “You know, I’m not even sure? Of course, your suggestion just might account for some of the nosebleeds and dizzy spells I’ve been having lately, not to mention all of those complete sensory-encompassing hallucinations, three-day long total memory blackouts, and uncontrollably sudden manic-depressive mood swings of the past few weeks – ” Cobra: “So, do we have a deal, gentlemen?” Hatman: “We’ll all meet up at CrazySugarFreakBoy’s! place in Seattle, tomorrow night at around about 6. And from what I can tell, it won’t be a moment too soon.” __________ Sorceress: “So, just out of curiosity, why did we all decide to meet up at CrazySugarFreakBoy’s! home, anyhow? Not that I’m complaining, mind you, since I’ve always wanted to visit Seattle. But even within the bounds of a hasty, spur-of-the-moment decision, it simply struck me as somewhat odd, that we should all congregate at the house of the single member of our party who happens to live the furthest geographic distance away from every last one of the rest of us.” Hatman: “Well, between his developmentally delayed fashion sense and his habitual procrastination, I figured it’d probably take him at least until the last minute to find anything remotely appropriate to wear, and then only if he had his mom around to help him out.” Cobra: “Remind me once more, exactly why this immature worm is even deserving of my attentions?” Sorceress: “Now, dear, you promised that you’d play nice for tonight, and try to give him the benefit of the doubt, for the duration of your date, if nothing else. There’s much that’s good and kind in his heart, and yet, unfortunately, it often winds up being concealed by the extravagant errors he commits in the execution of his intentions. I sense in all of his deeds, even the more misguided decisions, a genuine purity of motives and an empathetic spirit, even if his habitual nature is to follow his impulses first, and let his brain play catch-up as he goes. I certainly don’t feel it’s fair to discount out of hand a young man whose soul has the potential for so much selfless nobility.” Cobra: “Fine for you to say. Your bare breasts and backside aren’t emblazoned across the entire internet for any PC pervert with a high-speed surf engine to see.” As soon as Hatman pressed the apartment buzzer, an impossibly over-endowed and over-exposed woman, who was still staying fit even in the midst of her forties, with baby blue eyes and cherry red hair to boot, nudged open the door with her foot as she struggled to stuff her awe-inspiringly stacked curves into a particularly slinky and sinful blue and red mini-dress. Action Figure: “Oh, hey Hatman. Come on inside, darlin’. Hope you all don’t mind my temporary lack of manners or modesty; I’m just rushing to get ready in time for a fun night out on my own. Besides, Dream’s been expecting you all to show up for nearly an hour, now. I gotta tell you, Hatty, I almost didn’t recognize you without that trademark ball-cap perched on top of your head, pulled down over your eyes. Trust me, a good-looking kid like you should really consider leaving off the hats more often. After all, you never know when that full head of hair you take for granted now might recede away into non-existence.” Hatman: “Thanks for the advice, Ms. Foxxx, but if a bald spot on the back of my head is the only price I ever have to pay in order to uphold and defend justice, then I suppose I should probably count myself as pretty lucky. Besides, even in the worst case scenario, there’s always those minoxodyl hair treatments that Sy Sperling is always advertising in his Hair Club For Men brochures. I wonder, though, if just for tonight, you could call me Jay, instead of Hatman? I’d kind of appreciate it, since I sort of ... made a promise, to someone I’m starting to care about.” Action Figure: “Aha! A dashing and determined fellow, who owes a favor of honor to his intended filly! Well, why didn’t you say so before, sweetheart? I’ll tell you what; I’ll call you Jay for now, if you finally decide to lay off the ‘Miz Foxxx’ thing and call me Meg? It’s funny ... I don’t think I ever even knew that you had a first name, before now.” Hatman: “Wait - you mean, Dream never bothered to tell you who I really am?” Action Figure: “Hell, honey, I doubt if even Dream knows you by any name other than Hatman. As long as we’re getting all cozy and comfortable with each other here – excuse me, missy? Are you the young lady superhero that my son’s been talking my ear off about, all month long? I have to admit, you’re more than a little far off the mark of what I was expecting, after all that I’d heard about you. Don’t worry, though, sugar tush - that’s a good thing. Hiya, I’m Meggan Foxxx, Dream’s mom. Maybe he’s mentioned me as Action Figure, his so-called sidekick? I mean, I was flattered and all when he brought me on board his superhero team, the Goofball Gauntlet, but I'm still pretty sure there's only room for one costumed crime-fighter in the family, and it ain't yours truly. Anyhow, I’m guessing that you would be the cute Cobra chick that’s captured my son’s devoted attentions? Since we’re growing so close and familiar with each other, I don’t suppose you’d mind telling me your first name, my dear?” Sorceress: “Well, my birth name was Whitney, but I’m afraid that I’m not the woman with whom you wish to speak. I am Sorceress, of the Abandoned Legion. I believe that Christine is the Cobra in question, for whom your Dream now nurses his infatuations.” The two women's eyes met ... Action Figure: “Oh. I see.” ... And with that, Action Figure and Cobra began glaring at each other, circling one other like pacing predators, as each venomously eyed the woman across from her, up and down, over and over, sizing up any potential weaknesses to strike out against. In the very first instant that they had caught sight of one another, that single glimpse was enough for each to recognize a sliver of themselves in the woman she was staring at, almost as though each woman had recognized that the image being thrown back in their face by the funhouse mirror was merely a distorted reflection of herself. And for women such as Action Figure and Cobra, this simple bit of awareness is often all that’s needed in order for them to decide that they deeply dislike one another. Especially in Action Figure’s case, since this sensation was nothing new to her experience. After all, every time she had met a girl whom her son had taken a special shine to, she could always see, in all of those young women’s faces, the girl whom she herself had been at that age. And Dream’s mother would be damned if she’d lie down and let some cheap slut like THAT spirit away her sweet baby boy. Action Figure: “That’s such a beautiful dress. Your fashion sense is impeccable. It’s just too bad that you haven’t developed the figure to fill it out yet, though. Maybe when you hit your first period and start growing some decent-sized boobs, you’ll be able to look like something more than a little girl playing dress-up in her mommy’s grown-up clothes.” Sorceress managed to restrain her reaction, holding it to a stiffening of her spine and a sharp yet barely audible intake of breath, but Hatman buried his face in his hands and could scarcely contain his whimpering. Surprisingly enough, Cobra’s placid mask of a facial expression didn’t falter in the slightest. Cobra: “Oh, that’s quite alright. After all, some women are attractive enough, not to mention possessed of a great enough degree of self-esteem, that they don’t need to measure their own sense of self-worth on a scale of how well they can please men sexually, at the expense of developing any identity for themselves. Nor do they need to reassure themselves of their youth and beauty by paying for expensive cosmetic surgery treatments and obviously artificial breast implants. Nonetheless, your concern is touching.” For once, Dreamcatcher Foxglove’s uncanny talent for oblivious interruption proved to be fortuitously timed, for all concerned. CrazySugarFreakBoy!: “Wow, Cobra ... you look just like Lara Croft did when she was wearing that form-fitting formal evening dress, back during the first Witchblade/Tomb Raider crossover.” He stood in the hallway, his short bob of hair no longer fluorescent orange nor standing on end, but auburn brown and flopping down across his brow, his wide eyes no longer neon green nor staring intensely, but faded jade and gazing gently, and his skin no longer day-glo yellow nor translucently swirling, but instead, a pale, peachy pink, and freshly scrubbed, soft and smooth to the touch – which Meg did, caressing his cheek and running her fingers through his already tousled hair. Dream merely smirked, bit his lower lip in an ironic mix of embarrassment and gratification, and rolled his eyes in feigned exasperation, but resisted the urge to complain about being fussed over in such an attentive and possessive fashion. Hatman: “Hey, CSFB! – er, I mean, Dream. Are you alright? Your energy seems a bit, I’m not sure, down, maybe, although aside from the absence of your usual attire, I honestly can’t imagine why. After all, I never would have believed it could happen, not if I hadn’t seen the evidence with my own eyes, but in that outfit, you could almost pass for ... I don’t know, a semi-normal human being, or something.” CrazySugarFreakBoy!: “Yeah. That’s pretty much the problem, as far as I'm concerned.” Action Figure: “God, you look just like your father in those clothes. That green poet’s shirt was one of his favorites, you know. Even in the years after he’d left, I still kept it because it had his smell, his wonderfully seductive scent, all musk and soapstone and sandalwood. Something you should consider is that, if you wouldn’t spend so much time gallivanting around in that glowing orange and green get-up, the girls could at least get a gander at what a handsome young gentleman you’ve grown up into. And for once, it might finally be the right kind of woman that takes the time to notice you.” With that last sentence, she cast a cold stare at Cobra out of the corner of her eye, an unspoken signal which her hopelessly naive son missed entirely. CrazySugarFreakBoy!: “Um, okay ... whatever that was supposed to mean. Anyway, Mom, I’d like to introduce you to my friends. Hatman, well, I guess you know him pretty well already, from your time with the Lair Legion, not to mention my multiple team-ups with him on all sorts of assorted adventures, so – ” Hatman: “Jay.” CrazySugarFreakBoy!: “What?” Hatman: “My real name is Jay.” CrazySugarFreakBoy!: “Jay?” Hatman: “Yep.” CrazySugarFreakBoy!: “You mean like Jay Garrick, the Golden Age Flash?” Hatman: “Ah ... yeah, I guess so.” CrazySugarFreakBoy!: “Hnh. Never knew that. Well, like I said, you already know Jay. The woman standing beside him is Sorceress – ” Sorceress: “Whitney, actually. At least, for this evening’s festivities out on town, anyway.” CrazySugarFreakBoy!: “Whitney ... right. Sure, I should be able to remember that – I’ll just remind myself that it kind of rhymes with Brittany, that cute leader of the Chippettes, those three female chipmunks from the old ‘80s era Alvin and the Chipmunks cartoon. And, last but not least, this is my date, um ... ” Cobra: *Sigh* “Cobr – ” Sorceress: “Remember, dear, you have to play by your own rules, if you expect the boys to follow suit.” Cobra: “... Christine.” CrazySugarFreakBoy!: “Christine, huh? Not sure why you’re so ashamed of such a pretty name. I mean, unless somebody made some negative associations between your name and that demonic car from the Stephen King movie ... anyhow, Christine, this is my mom, Meggan Foxxx – ” Action Figure: “Oh, don’t worry, Dream. We’ve already made our introductions.” Cobra: “Yes, indeed. You could say that we’ve taken the time to get acquainted.” CrazySugarFreakBoy!: “Hey, that’s great! Glad both my favorite girls are getting along so well.” Hatman: “Dream ... seriously, whatever the hell it is that you’re obviously on all the time, and however it is that you manage to get ahold of it without the authorities catching on and busting your ass - I want to know, man, so that that I can get my hands on some of that stuff, too. Especially after tonight, I have a feeling that I’m going to need all the outside help that I can get, just to cope with whatever bad it is that's inevitably bound to happen.” Action Figure: “Oh, shoot, it's half past already ... Dream, honey, I hate to scoot you all out the door like this, but Dan booked a table for two at the Space Needle for fifteen minutes from now, and I’ve already reserved a room at this really ritzy and expensive hotel, in cash, just in case your momma gets lucky - cross my fingers, especially since I haven’t got laid in nearly two weeks, and Dan’s old Army buddies say he isn’t called Old One-Eye for nothing. Look, Lord knows that the last thing I’d want to do is embarrass my grown-up guy in front of his best buds, but still, could you just do your silly old overprotective mom a favor, and give her a quick kiss goodbye, before you go off into the night, utterly unprotected, with only your wild and crazy friends for company?” CrazySugarFreakBoy!: “Aw, of course I will. I’m glad you didn’t go all melodramatic over it or anything, though. Love you lots, Mom. I’ll probably be back later than you, so please, don’t bother waiting up on my account - mmm ... mmmphhh!” Dream’s eyes suddenly shot open to Manga-wide proportions, as his mom’s farewell peck on the lips went about half an inch deeper, and lasted a few dozen seconds longer, than he’d apparently been expecting. Action Figure: “You’ll always be your momma’s little boy, won’t you, baby?” CrazySugarFreakBoy!: “Um ... right, sure. Sure I will. Mmm – I, ah, I think that this gum was yours.” Hatman: “Okay, maybe my mind was simply playing tricks on me, but did it look like Dream’s mom just slipped him the tongue to you too?” Sorceress: “All I can say for sure is, it certainly appears as though somebody’s feeling like her territory of home and hearth is being threatened. Of course, the most frightening aspect of this little interaction is the fact that, by the time this double date is over and done with, our memories of this moment will seem relatively reassuring by comparison. I mean, you did realize that it would come to this, when you originally agreed to attend this evening out ... didn’t you?” Hatman: “Man ... I knew I should have stayed at home and watched the hockey game, I just knew it. At least that way, I’d be a lot less likely to see nightmare-inducing levels of bloodshed by the time I went to sleep.” (To be continued by someone, I sincerely hope ...) CrazySugarFreakBoy! |
| The Double Date of Infamy ... (CrazySugarFreakBoy!) (09-Mar-2000 09:36:13) |
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