Baron Zemo's Lair. - <font color="lightslategrey" face="Lucida Sans Unicode">The Hooded Hood Chronicles #9:The Hooded Hood and the Quest for Cosmic Awareness</font>

Baron Zemo's Lair

The Hooded Hood Chronicles #9:The Hooded Hood and the Quest for Cosmic Awareness
Tuesday, 23-Nov-1999 14:09:17
195.92.194.44 writes:

The Hooded Hood Chronicles #9:The Hooded Hood and the Quest for Cosmic Awareness

The bump and grind music was loud and annoying. The lights flashed red and gold and blue, lighting the stage where several young clothing-challenged ladies were performing callisthenics to the admiration of a group of ardent gymnastics lovers. The Hooded Hood frowned, ensuring that the really private bits of the girls were continually covered with trailing bits of cloth, potted palms, hair, or the silhouetted heads of the spectators. It was bad enough that he had to come here in his quest for omnipotence anyway without having to put up with ‘70’s undercover press artwork. Although he wouldn’t have minded Grey Morrow.
The cowled crime-czar wrapped his cloak tightly about himself as if to avoid the contamination of the sweaty crowd at the Deja-Vu Review Bar and led the way towards the stage area. Three of the Purveyors of Peril, those evil adversaries of the Lair Legion ripped from their own continuity lines and gathered together in service to the Hood flanked him as he searched.
Let’s take some time to establish them. They’ll be important later. See that lady in the tight black velvet? That’s VelcroVixen, and she can kill a man using nothing but a tube of eyeliner and a false fingernail. But her hobbies apart, she’s a pretty deadly villainess, and she’s the Hood’s field lieutenant. This sort of place is hardly new territory to her, as we shall see later.
The second figure is wearing a rather thick overcoat and a big hat, a bit like the Thing used to do in those old FF comics. However, unless Ben’s lost a lot of weight and taken to wearing cherry-red and violet stockings in his spare time, and has matching eye shadow it’s probably not him. Don’t bother going back and looking in that last posting about the Handbook of the Parodyverse. She’s not in there. This is a new one. We’ll come back to her later as well.
And the third one is Bill Clinton. That’s the one the Hooded Hood needs a word with.
“Indigo Impostor, this is supposed to be a covert mission. Could you possibly suppress your attention-seeking tendencies and take on a form which is less likely to garner universal attention?”
A covert mission. Right. That’s why you’re wearing a grey cloak and hood and have glowing green eyes, the Impostor didn’t answer, because he’s seen what had happened to Flapjack over the video incident. Flapjack had pleaded to come on this mission, but he wouldn’t even be out of traction for a week. The demented hunchback assistant had sworn blind that he could still terrorise a strip bar with all his limbs disabled, but the Hood had made him stay at home and console the equally- despondent-to-not-be-allowed-to-come Appendage Man.
“Who would you like me to be?” the Impostor answered respectfully instead.
“Somebody plain and anonymous who no-one would recognise,” instructed the cowled crime-czar.
“The Vice-President?”
“Perfect. Make it so.”
VelcroVixen had been scanning the stage, looking for their quarry. “I can’t see her up there,” she reported to the others. “I suggest we split up and search backstage.”
The Hooded Hood nodded, acquiescing to his lieutenant’s suggestion. He then folded his arms and stood there, making it clear that he was not searching anything whilst there were three perfectly good minions to toil on his behalf.
VelcroVixen’s explorations took her past the suddenly-in-need-of-a-new-testicle bodyguard to the changing rooms. She reasoned that the most likely place for an ageing stripper who wasn’t on stage and wasn’t on somebody’s lap was the dressing area. And lo and behold, behind the door with the little star upon it the voluptuous villainess found Meggan Foxxx, headline attraction and protective mother of the superhero known as CrazySugarFreakBoy.
The woman turned away from the mirror as VelcroVixen glided in. “What is it, hon?” she asked, before her eyes widened in recognition. “You!”
“You know me?” VelcroVixen was baffled. The Hooded Hood had retconned her entirely out of the timeline, so there was no way this woman could remember her.
“Remember th’ little bitch that c*cksucked me out of my last big starring role, in ‘Sorority Sluts in Chains’? You bet I do, bimbo. C’mere and let me pull that fake blonde hair o’ yours out by the roots!”
VelcroVixen was equally surprised by the speed and force of the older woman’s attack, but the villainess who could out-wrestle Jarvis three times out of four was never seriously threatened by the exotic dancer. In moments the woman whose stage name was Meggan Foxxx was pinned to the wall, a cruel stiletto blade threatening to do to her cheek what John Byrne does to continuity.
Then there was a blur of fluorescent orange, neon green, and day-glo yellow and the blade was somehow embedded into fan letter from Space Ghost pinned to the opposite wall.
“Who…?” VelcroVixen gasped as something bounced over her head, somehow managing to wedgie her catsuit as it passed.
“Well, it’s either Superman after a really bad tie-die job or it’s the latest, greatest addition to the ever-laudable Lair Legion, the bouncing, brilliant, fantastic, furry CraaaaaazySugarFreakBoy!!!” the constantly-moving streak announced. And suddenly VelcroVixen was inextricably tangled in a pile of exotic lingerie – again!
“Well,” Dreamcatcher Foxglove admitted sliding to a halt atop the make-up table, “I lied about the furry part.”
In the main auditorium the Indigo Impostor picked up the emergency signal and gave the Hooded Hood the bad news. “He’s here. CrazySugarFreakBoy!”
“It was always a possibility,” the Hood admitted with a sigh.
“Then I guess it’s a good job you brought me along, huh, Hoody?” the unidentified girl in the overcoat chirped. “Can I go get him now?”
“I have not yet decided whether to kill you because you just called me ‘Hoody’ or because you clearly telephoned a warning to the young person so that you would have somebody to fight,” the cowled crime-czar answered. “In the meantime, yes, go and engage that irritating distraction. But do not harm him.”
“Sorry, couldn’t hear that last bit!” PsychoAcidPervGal called, ripping off her coat to reveal a uniform strangely similar to that of CrazySugarFreakBoy’s (right down to the smiley-face patterns, although these somehow had a nasty smirk and the cherry, violet, and hot pink colour scheme) and bouncing across the shocked patrons to engage her mortal enemy. Of course, CrazySugarFreakBoy! didn’t know that she existed in this reality, but that was all about to change.
“Talk, velvet-buns!” the hyperactive hero was demanding of VelcroVixen. “Why’d you come and pick a fight with my mom.”
“’Cause she’s a scene-stealin’ backstabbin’ no-good whore, that’s why,” Meggan contributed. And then the wall exploded.
“Help! Help!” PsychoAcidPervGal cried in the confusion, rushing into CrazySugarFreakBoy’s arms. “Save me!”
Dreamcatcher found himself cradling the trembling teenager. There seemed to be something strangely familiar about her. Her frightened lips sought out his own in a fervent, strange-tasting kiss. Then he felt the sharp stab in his buttock, and found a hypodermic syringe protruding from it. Suddenly he found himself having an eidetic flashback to those Mantlo/Perez Teen Titans with Terra in them…
“Y…you’re not a goodie,” he stammered as the chemicals hit his system.
“Aw, how hurtful!” PAPG giggled, bouncing away. “And after I brought you a present.”
CSFB’s reflexes were dulled, but not enough to stop him catching the hurled parcel. It was about the size of a football and it was squishy. Inside the paper was a young girl’s severed head. She was wearing a mask.
“Who…?” Dreamcatcher puzzled, trying to clear the cobwebs out of his mind.
“Different timeline to this one. She was your partner. She loved you. That’s GoofyGadgetGrrrlScout – well, a bit of her anyway.”
CrazySugarFreakBoy looked up in horror at his grinning nemesis. “You unspeakable bastard! This head is wrapped up in my once-mint edition of FF Annual #1!”
“That’s right,” snarled PsychoAcidPervGal. “Now, let’s rock!”
As the two super-athletic teens caromed around the rubble-strewn changing area in mortal combat, a firm, comforting hand helped Meggan Foxxx to her feet. “Come this way, ma’am. I’ll get you to safety.”
Dreamcatcher’s’s mother was still a bit rattled from the exploding wall and the sudden attacks. It didn’t occur to her at the time that she’d never seen Pierce Brosnan at one of her performances before. So she allowed the dinner-jacketed gentleman to get her away from the hurtling objects and the bounding teenagers.
And suddenly she was face to face with the Hooded Hood.
“Got her, boss,” said 007, suddenly shifting to resemble Bluto from the Popeye cartoons.
“Very good, Impostor,” the cowled crime-czar answered. “The Hooded Hood is pleased with you. Now go and retrieve VelcroVixen.”
Meggan suddenly realised what was going on. “You’re that f***ing t**t who was badmouthing my sweet little boy!” she accused the archvillain; but the crippling arthritis she had always suffered from childhood but had only occurred since she through about attacking the Hood prevented her from carrying out her assault. Then it was over as soon as it has begun and she had never had that disability.
“You have something I want,” the Hooded Hood declaimed.
“You and every sweaty-palmed punter ‘tween here n’ Vegas,” Meggan replied, wondering if she would again have to sacrifice her virtue to help out her son.
“Cosmic awareness.”
That was a new name for it. “What?” she puzzled.
“I require your cosmic awareness,” the cowled crime-czar repeated. “You received it quite by accident. That’s how you were able to remember VelcroVixen. You became the Celestial Madonna for this reality. You had… special children.”
This was all news to Meggan. Except for Dreamcatcher being special of course. Then her mind again caught up. “You said children. As in more than one.”
“Perhaps I was referring to the other child,” the Hood explained, gesturing to the auditorium where screaming showgirls and panicking punters were scattering from the increasingly viscous fight between CrazySugarFreakBoy and PsychoAcidPervGal. “At least, that’s her story. Of course, that one comes from a parallel reality. I have absolutely no interest in where the one you bore in this timestream is, or even if there is one. I am only interested in the cosmic awareness lodged inside you. I require it.”
“I have cosmic whatsis?” Meggan checked.
“Yes. It seems to prefer to manifest in whores. There was a posting about it on the AMB. Perhaps that was why your father drove you to the life you have led. Or else he was just a sick, sad bastard who deserved to be gelded. And why else do you think the love of your life sought you out to father his children upon?”
Meggan didn’t know quite what to do next. There was too much to take in. But one thing was clear. Drugged and surprised, Dreamcatcher was definitely losing that fight out there. And PsychoAcidPervGal was going, if not for the kill, at least for the do some permanent damage option. “Can you save him?” she asked the Hooded Hood.
“For now,” agreed the cowled crime-czar. “In exchange for that cosmic awareness.” He held out his hand, and there was a strange electronic device in it. The Hood had worked out that if he absorbed the awareness directly now it would be the equivalent of saying to the cosmic powers of the Parodyverse “come and have a go if you think you’re hard enough,” and he wasn’t ready to take on Death, Temporary Death, the Chronicler, Chance, Sense of Humour, and the other personifications just yet.
Meggan took one last glance over her shoulder at where CrazySugarFreakBoy was shielding some of the strippers from an exploding coke machine at the cost of even more wounds on his own torn body. “Alright,” she agreed, clutching the mechanism.
A little red LED came on. “Thank you, madam,” the Hood bowed. “I shall leave you to enjoy what little time you have left with your son.” He gestured to the now-returned Indigo Impostor and VelcroVixen. “Get us out of here.”
Impostor became William Shatner. “Beam us up, Scotty,” he called into a communicator.
Meggan was alone in the debris. CrazySugarFreakBoy looked round, dazed and unable to focus on where his adversary had got to. “Did I win?” he asked plaintively.
“Sure you did, hon,” his mother assured him. She gave him a big hug and held on to him as the only real thing she had in a cruel and insane world. She felt as though she had lost something important today. And then there was what the Hooded Hood has said about the girl…
“Dreamcatcher,” she said slowly, “We’ve got to talk…”

The Deluxe Handbook of the Parodyverse: Another Update

That’s right, true believers! Feast your peepers on the latest extravaganzas from the mansion of inspiration, as we unveil for the first time before your gaping gazes the truth about the latest powerhouses from the fervid thinktank that is the Playpen:

PsychoAcidPervGal!

Real Name: claims that it’s Gwendolyn Leslie, but frankly who’s going to believe a spaced-out drug-powered super-villainess wearing a cherry-red and violet costume with smiley-faces on it?
Occupation: Seducer of the Innocent, Frederick Wertham’s worst nightmare
Identity: Known in this continuity strand only to Dreamcatcher Foxglove (CrazySugarFreakBoy!) and his mother Meggan Foxxx, and to her teammates in the Purveyors of Peril
Legal Status: A minor, so watch yourself.
Known Relatives: claims to be CrazySugarFreakBoy’s sister. So why is she so hot for him? That’s sick!
Group Affiliation: Purveyors of Peril
Base of Operations: Wherever she lays her hat, that’s her home.
First Appearance: Destruction of CrazySugarFreakBoy Graphic Novel (now retconned – real shame, brilliant Neil Adams artwork, man, and it’s all gone now!)
History: Well, you really need to check Kirk’s posting under the last Hooded Hood story, but basically she comes from an alternate timeline in which CrazySugarFreakBoy was a much more substantial hero leading a pack of misfit former villains seeking redemption. When his partner, GoofyGadgetGrrlScout! is slain by PsychoAcidPervGal!, CSFB goes off the edge and in his thirst for revenge leads his team into an ambush where they’re all crippled or killed. That reality’s CSFB kills himself just after his attempt to destroy PAPG is foiled as the Hooded Hood pulls her from continuity to join the Purveyors. It’s all pretty grim, but you can’t deny it ‘cause it’s right there in Kirk’s posting.
Height: 5’6”
Eyes: Violet and unfocused
Hair: Sunset violet
Strength Level: Proportional to the strength of the junk she’s on.
Known Superhuman Powers: Pretty much like CrazySugarFreakBoy’s, amplified by that strange supersuit but powered by all kinds of nasty, illegal substances that all you kiddies gotta, Just Say No, To, alright. Remember, don’t try this at home.

I’m guessing Kirk might post an expanded update of this character in time for her subsequent appearances.

The Yurt
Real Name: Vlastimock Bogoff
Occupation: Glorious worker in the People’s Potato Collective, Commieslavia
Identity: Nobody is going to recognise him now he’s twenty feet tall, covered in razor-sharp rocks, and drawn by Don Heck on a bad scratchy pen day.
Group Affiliation: The Purveyors of Peril, at least until he forgets.
Base of Operations: Nobody wants this guy in their backyard. Things would get broken.
First Appearance: Lair Legion vol 2 (Heroes Retouched) #9
History: After the accident with the radioactive spillage and the exploding potato picker, mild-mannered Vlastimock Bogoff gained the proportional strength and intelligence of a Russian peasant hut. He then went on a senseless rampage because frankly that’s the way these things work, and he damn near destroyed the current Lair Legion lineup before the Hooded Hood recruited him to come to the mainstream continuity to have another go.
Height: Twenty feet high, about thirty feet wide. And uuuuuglyyyyy!!!
Eyes: Well, he seems to be able to see well enough to pull the heads of heroes, but damned if I know how.
Hair: He wishes.
Strength Level: The stupider he gets, the stronger he gets. And he’s pretty stupid.
Known Superhuman Powers: He’s big, he’s strong, and ground-zero nuclear explosions give him a headache. He’s a hot contender for the Doomsday Pointlessly Strong Impossible Villain Award this year.

Headcase
Real Name: Eugene Tuppett
Occupation: Purveyor of fine gentlemen’s headwear for the discriminating gentleman
Identity: Secret; he creeps out at night to become the evil nemesis of bareheaded cultureless crass cretins
Legal Status: Resident of Paradopolis, and the only one who misses New Parody City
Known Relatives: An aunt in Minnesota and a great-aunt in Hell, Nebraska
Group Affiliation: The Purveyors of Peril
Base of Operations: Mr Tuppet’s Headwear Emporium, tasteful cranial coverings for the discerning
First Appearance: Hatman Dollar Comics #7, back-up feature, “Headcase’s Horror Yarns”
History: Enrages that the titfer was going out of fashion, Eugene Tuppett started out as your basic psychotic serial-killer, stalking and beheading anyone he found who wasn’t wearing a hat. After his initial confrontation with Hatman in Pointless Tales #188 where he died horribly in his own guillotine machine, he returned after making a pact with the sinister Mefrothto with the power to take on the abilities of anybody whose head he placed on his own, headless shoulders. He was recruited out of his own continuity by the Hooded hood before the new Lair Legion line-up was posted, and he’s going to be really pissed if he doesn’t have a chance to add Hatman’s head to his collection. He’ll take Jarvis at a pinch, though.
Height: 5’4” plus the head and the hat
Eyes: Well, variable really, when you think about it
Hair: See above. But you can guarantee that they’ll be wearing fashionable headgear
Strength Level: Supernaturally enhanced
Known Superhuman Powers: pretty much as described above. He has quite a collection of heads to choose from. For example, he does a really mean Elvis impression…

Partycrasher
Real Name: He-Guy of Eternia
Occupation: As one of the Northern Exposure Aeterals, He-Guy has dedicated millennia to the study of muscle-flexing.
Identity: Nobody wants to know who he really is
Legal Status: Bound by law not to come within two hundred yards of Cher
Other Current Aliases: The Studmeister, Babe Magnet, Disco Heat, Shag Attack, and anything else he can think of during his initial chat-up line
Known Relatives: All the other Aeternals, although they might not want to admit it
Group Affiliation: Purveyors of Peril
Base of Operations: A pretty groovy bachelor pad in Aeternia, with leopard-skin walls and a circular black-sheeted bed
First Appearance: Tales to Offend #109
History: “Hey, babe, Partycrasher, he’s the good-time Aeternal, for sure. Stick with me and it’s jet-set city all the time. One sight of this medallion and the babes just swoon. Sure, I know a place where we can gatecrash, and there’ll be chicks swarming all over me,” etc.
Height: 6’1”
Eyes: Insincere
Hair: Black and in a pompadour
Strength Level: Aeternal; and he comes on pretty strong
Known Superhuman Powers: The usual Aeternal powers, i.e. anything needed at the moment really. But his main gift is getting into pretty cool parties and totally ruining them. Other major achievements are his telekinetic ability to make female underwear dissolve and his total control of his chest hair, which is strong enough to pin a woman to him if he wills it.

In case you haven’t guessed it Sersi, he’s coming to date you.
“Hi, sweetbuns! I hear you’re pretty easy.” (Partycrasher rehearsing chat-up opener)

Turbo Treesloth
Real Name: “Whassat? You think Turbo Treesloth ain’t a real name? Die, you scumsucking *@#**&*!!”
Occupation: International assassin
Legal Status: Wanted for that Jimmy Hoffa thing
Other Current Aliases: The Rodent of Revenge
Group Affiliation: The Purveyors of Peril, and formerly of the Rocket Racoon Revenge Squad
Base of Operations: Herringcarp Asylum
First Appearance: Rocket Racoon and His Amazing Friends Breakfast Serial Free Giveaway Comic #1
History: Ok, look, the Hooded Hood had to really strain for this one. I mean, how many credible villains can you find for a big furry flying rat? HH just had to take what he could find, right? And if the biggest villain Rocket Racoon never fought was this cigar-chompin’, black-glove wearin’, pistol-packin’ jetpack-sportin’ Treesloth, well they can’t all be like the Yurt, can they?
Height: 3’7”
Eyes: Black
Hair: Dirty brown
Strength Level: Well, the proportional strength and agility of a treesloth, I suppose
Known Superhuman Powers: Well, it’s mostly down to equipment, like his jet pack, and his exploding eggs, and his scent spray, and so on. Oh, and he shoots people dead. That’s it.

Rottweiler and the Terrier
Real Name: “Frothing” Jimmy Dougall
Occupation: Former security guard
Identity: Secret; Dougall is listed as deceased
Legal Status: Wanted in another continuity line as serial murderers
Other Current Aliases: Bad dogs
Known Relatives: Well, the Terrier is cloned from Rottweiler, and is a smaller, meaner version of him, so that should count, don’t you think? Oh, and they have an Aunt in Aberdeen.
Group Affiliation: The Purveyors of Peril, formerly of the Messenger Revenge Squad
Base of Operations: Herringcarp Asylum, Stroker’s Isle
First Appearance: Severed Zombie Finger Tales #3 (EC, 1955), first attack on Messenger, Strange Postal Tales #31
History: Jimmy Dougall, hard-drinking, hard-swearing security guard volunteered for a strength enhancement process (and a bigger paycheque) from his employers SLIMECOM. The process went tragically wrong, mutating him into a feral killing machine and creating an sinister, even nastier, midget duplicate. What with the adamantium teeth and the poisoned claws and everything they really form a very nasty combination, especially since the Terrier can only usually attack up to about waist height. Driven insane they set about guarding things whether they wanted to be guarded or not; hence their first, terrible encounter with Messenger, and the subsequent “If This Be MY ZIP Code…” trilogy.
Height: Rottweiler 6’9”, the Terrier “2’7”
Eyes: Rottweiler: beady, close together and red, the Terrier: oozy, looking in different directions and orange.
Hair: Rottweiler: short, brown and black, and all over his body; the Terrier: short, brown and white, and all over his body except for the distemper patches.
Strength Level: Rottweiler: Able to lift a postal van; the Terrier: able to, um, be really affectionate to a postal van.
Known Superhuman Powers: All the usual psycho-killer stuff like adamantium bits, healing factors, fast, strong, poisoned bites and claws, rabies-carrying, etc. etc. With an insane lust for mailmen’s trousers (a bit like Lisa but more specifically for postal workers).

And since we still have a bit of time left, here’s the note I added to the original posting of the episode reprinted here:

As you may notice from reading the story above, this episode has rather more to do with CrazySugarFreakBoy than the Hooded Hood. So it seems only fair to pass on the credit for the backstory to Kirk Boxleitner (got his name right this time), the... creative mind behind CSFB for his invaluable and definitive input.

Here are his notes, as supplied:

Imagine an alternate timeline where tragic events in the life of CrazySugarFreakBoy! transformed him, from a bouncy, bubbly, happy, hyper, junior space cadet into a grim, gritty, wounded, wrathful, dark avenger of injustice.
Now, imagine the scale of suffering that it would take to push our almost emotionally impervious, kind-hearted kid so far over the edge, and the type of psychotic temperament that would be required to accomplish such a task.
Ironically enough, it was in this parallel universe where CrazySugarFreakBoy! achieved his greatest successes, not only shouldering the daunting responsibility of reforming a hardened band of feuding supervillains and reshaping them into an able team of heroes that he himself could lead on to a score of victorious struggles whose epic scope would be recorded in the pages of both history and legend, but also that of adopting a smiling sidekick of his own, a young lass about his age who took on the melodic moniker of GoofyGadgetGrrrlScout!, who earned her name for generating an improbably variety of devices which rivaled even her mentor's imaginative array of creations.
To boot, the bad guys (and solitary gal) recruited were among Wizard's top ten list of worst supervillains of all time, compiled from its archives of Mort of the Month nominees, with a hilariously hopeless roster including such lost causes as 1) Oddball, the killer juggler from the Hawkeye limited mini; 2) Golden Glider, sister to Captain Cold and ex-girlfriend of the Human Top, as well as a perpetual Flash foe in her own right; 3) Clock King, the oft-revamped Green Arrow arch-enemy whose pathetic getup simply screamed DC Silver Age; 4) Rainbow Raider, a.k.a. Roy G. Bivolo, who managed to escape retroactive erasing in Crisis On Infinite Earths despite being not only a worse Green Lantern clone than Doctor Light, but also the bearer of the stupidest name in comics; 5) The Turtle, quite possibly the most moronic idea for an opposite number avdersary to a speedster superhero ever put upon paper; and last but not least, 6) Kite-Man, the lamest potential enemy ever, a man whose so
le ability (not even a mutant power, as with the occasionally hinted-at, and nearly as stupid, control Falcon is purported to have over his bird, Redwing) involves being the greatest kite flier in the world.
And yet, the eternally optimistic CrazySugarFreakBoy! was patient and insightful enough to recognize the hidden potential lurking within these seemingly worthless costumed crusaders that they didn't even see themselves, and with their greatly enhanced and unlikely specialties, the team gained the iconic status of a Justice League, and CrazySugarFreakBoy's! surprisingly capable leadership skills garnered him the battlefield reputation of a Captain America.
In short, life was good all around on Earth-CSFB!, until SHE emerged to spoil it all.
Next to nothing is known of her true origins, other than maybe her real-life name - "Gwen" or "Wendy," depending on who you listen to, and even she seems to use the two interchangeably when referring to herself - but her inner nature made itself deadly obvious during her horrific debut.
Her spandex suit is almost identical to that of CrazySugarFreakBoy!, except for its colors ... the cherry red of her laviscious lips and short bob of punked-out hair and the sunset violet of her overdone, almost Egyptian eyeshadow and slitted eyes themselves, respectively, replace the tradional tones of fluorescent orange and neon green found in CrazySugarFreakBoy's! garb and complexion, and the hot pink of her skin contrasts sharply with his day-glow yellow of his pigment, all adding up to a distinctive look that very deliberately projects the image of an evil reflection.
The source of her energy reserves is even more of a dark mirror to the idiosyncratic identity of our hero, for instead of deriving speed, strength, and agility from copious consumption of the sugar and caffeine that are vital ingredients in junk food, candy, and soda pop, Gwen who is also known as Wendy sustains her supersuit-amplified effects with a steady diet of heroin, crack, crystal meth, airplane glue, or just about any other controlled substance, legal or illegal, that she can lay her hands upon, as her system converts the drug high into the same category of kinetic energy that powers her inspiration, CrazySugarFreakBoy!
However, the qualities that make her a genuinely lethal lady are those that she shares with her opponent, for she possesses all the quick-witted inventiveness and quirky persanilty traits that help CrazySugarFreakBoy! overcome apparently unbeatable odds in his conflicts, but unlike him, she isn't afraid to be vicious, cruel, mean-spirited, sadistic, psychotic, or even homicidal to meet out her sick and twisted goals, and it's this very relentless, boundless, abject absence of any moral limitations that finally allowed her to gain the upper hand over him, for while he may be loopy and light-hearted and unpredictably chaotic, he remained constrained by the fact that he actually had a basic human conscience.
Indeed, CrazySugarFreakBoy! was enough of an arrogant, naive fool to believe he could redeem the woman's unsalvageably tarnished soul, and the price of his extraordinary hubris was losing the life of his faithful companion, GoofyGadgetGrrrlScout!, who refused to give up the hope of her always reliable mentor (and, as it turns out, secret crush) coming to her rescue, right up until the bitter end, since he'd never failed to squeeze in a last-minute save before.
Driven nearly insane by guilt and anguish over his unforgivable mistake, a half-maddened CrazySugarFreakBoy! assembled his allies and charged ahead with a barely thought-out assault against this Reverse-CSFB!, his unbearable grief blinding him to the signs warning him that he and his team were barreling heedlessly into an otherwise incredibly obvious trap, and the disorganized disaster which followed resulted in just about ever member of his normally well-oiled machine of a lineup winding up either killed or incurably crippled, the public turning against him and branding him as an irresponsible incompetent whose blundering was as much to blame for this slew of slayings as their murderer, if not moreso, and from that point it was a short step to being an absolute pariah, hated and feared by the world he'd sworn, tried and failed to protect, and wanted by the law for the innocent blood that was practically dripping from his hands.
When the Hooded Hood retrieved her from this nightmarish timeline, CrazySugarFreakBoy! has at last tracked down the gleefully inhuman maniac who cut down his comrades, but at a terrible cost; in addition to being homeless, friendless, bereft of any sense of self-worth or decency, filled with only the burning desire for revenge and his own oblivion, he is now unspeakably, disgustingly disfigured, and dying, from the highly addictive and dangerous experimental drugs which he's begun injecting into his body, to increase his potential abilities and outmatch the powers of she who has ruined his life.
For Gwen/Wendy, though, this is the ultimate win, for even if this battered shell, this mockery of a man manages to beat her, she has succeeded in her coldly calculating goal, of transforming this once-stalwart and upstanding idol of good little boys and girls everywhere into an even more despicable monster than herself ... which is fortunate, because his savagery now more than outbalances hers, and it's at the exact moment that the Hooded Hood happens to snatch her out of her reality that this Earth's CrazySugarFreakBoy! is about to strike his fatal blow.
Admiring her accomplishments, the cowled crime-czar offers the depraved young girl the opportunity of a lifetime; if she joins his forces, she'll be given a very special gift - she'll be allowed to destroy her favorite enemy all over again, starting with a completely blank slate, when he's still a confoundingly cheerful, nauseatingly nice, loathsomely lovable momma's boy.
Needless to say, she jumps at the chance, however slim it might be, and doesn't hesitate to sign her soul away on the dotted line.
Okay ... the reason I'm forwarding this to you instead of the rest of the board is that I still have no freaking clue what I should call this girl, who should have a cool codename, much less what her reasons for doing all these dastardly deeds to our boy should be (beyond the inkling I get that, if you asked her, she'd say it was because "I love him, so I have to destroy him.").
I picture her as a real Joker-ish villain, except that instead of constrasting with a dour dark knight like Batman, what makes her scary is that she is pretty much similar to CrazySugarFreakBoy! himself, amped up to the next level, if he were to be stripped of any restraints such as morals or a conscience.
If you can give her a cool supervillain nickname and maybe even an interesting bio (altho' that's not necessary yet, for the purposes of introducing her to your ongoing story - maybe she's his long-lost twin sister, expressing her incestuous passion for him?), I grant you full permission to introduce her, as you did all the other alternate timeline villains you created for your story.
Adopt her, I don't mind. :)
Just let me have her back once ya finish with her?

Thanks,
Kirk the CrazySugarFreakBoy!

P.S. If the Hooded Hood were to notice that Flapjack had sent a false apology to Meg in exchange for some of her ... work, the tapes he'd find in his henchman's possession would be Meggan Foxxx's 1984 pairing with Jeanna Fine, "Fist-F**king Siblings," as well as a host of other direct-to-video titles from the early '80s, including "Strap-On Sorority Sisters" with Christy Canyon.
Yes, Meg's body of cinematic performances primarily involved lesbian couplings.
And after viewing the movies ... well, let's just say that the Hooded Hood should understand that Meg was already, erm, elastic enough that the labor pains of motherhood must have been quite minimal for her. ;)
Probably more than you ever wanted to know, but I'm sure you could find a place to include it in your posts - HH is your character, after all. :)

Another blast from the past from the Hooded Hood, this time with an irritating guest star