Post By The Hooded Hood continues to clog the board with more things to read and reply to Thu Jan 25, 2007 at 02:22:40 pm EST	Subject #302: Untold Tales of the Parody War: The Hooded Hood Goes To War - Complete
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#302: Untold Tales of the Parody War: The Hooded Hood Goes To War Previously: At the end of a day of shattering war Earth’s forces have denied the Parody Master significant assets such as the conceptual plane and the power-amplifying Infinity Forge. However, the assault has left Earth’s superheroes and military devastated. Most of the Lair Legion are injured or lost. Lisa Waltz is dead. The Parody Master intends to punish Earth for its resistance. And the Hooded Hood has decided to enter the conflict. The footnotes below contain a Who’s Who in the Purveyors of Peril. Previous chapters at The Hooded Hood's Homepage of Doom Descriptions of cast at Who's Who in the Parodyverse Locations explained in Where's Where in the Parodyverse     The Parody Master’s eyes blazed angrily. “We shall see who dies, Wilton,” he snarled. “I gave you your chance.”     He gestured and the skies went darker.     By his power dimensional dreadnaughts breached the Celestian barrier and appeared over Paradopolis, Washington, London, Rome, and Hong Kong.     And fired. ***     It was night in Paradopolis. An exhausted silence had settled over the city, very different from the wild farewell celebrations of twenty-four hours earlier. Now the soldiers who had marched off to fight the Parody War this morning had returned – the one who yet survived. Those who had fought and those who had made the strange journey to pull them back from the other dimension where they’d been lost were tending their wounds and sleeping in exhaustion. The tattered faded party flags fluttered in a chill drizzle.     The dimensional dreadnaught was gunmetal grey, the size of a city. Built from the plundered resources of a dozen worlds the vast floating war machine was the ultimate carrier. Its arsenal was sufficient to fracture the planet’s mantle. The vessel shimmered in above Paradopolis, shadowing the tallest buildings, blocking out the stars.     Within seconds of appearing it powered up its air to surface particle accelerators and gravity pulse cannons. The few watchers below could only see a vast black outline lit with a hundred hell-fire red circles where weapons ports were opened.     Without any other warning the dreadnaught activated its weapons to bring the proud towers of Paradopolis low.     The weapons malfunctioned. The backlash cascaded through the ship, jumping past safety cutoffs, blowing out bulkheads in a chain reaction right back to the trans-nuclear core that powered the craft. Matter and antimatter met in a detonation that cracked the vast ship in two, blowing molten shards the size of city-blocks from the side and top. Then the whole dreadnaught exploded in a massive fireball.     And vanished, taking the blazing debris that was falling down towards the city with it.     The stars returned, and peace with them, as if the attacking dreadnaught had never been there.     And in Washington, Rome, and Hong Kong exactly the same thing happened. ***     “What?” demanded the Parody Master as he sensed his war engines’ destruction. “What did you do?” He turned to Sir Mumphrey Wilton, his hologram form accusing and angry. “What did you do to those ships?”     Sir Mumphrey glanced at Natalia Romanza for a tactical update. “Four of the dreadnaughts have just exploded and disappeared,” she summarised, reading the monitor situation feed. “No casualties on our side, no damage.”     “What did you do?” the Parody Master repeated, his eyes burning with anger at this latest indignity.     “Told you we don’t surrender,” Sir Mumphrey Wilton answered, covering.     “Do not blame Wilton,” came a dark voice with a Latvian accent. “Blame me.”     The Parody Master swung round to see that there was now an additional throne-like chair in the room. The Hooded Hood sat on it, his fingers steepled together, his face shadowed.     “So,” the conqueror or worlds observed, glaring at the interloper, “you have finally come out of hiding.”     “You just got to the top of my list of things to do,” the cowled crime czar replied. “So here I am.”     “What the blazes do you want, Winkelweald?” demanded Sir Mumphrey Wilton, coming out from behind his desk. “Today’s been bad enough without you slopin’ ‘round interfering.”     “I just interfered four dimensional dreadnaughts from destroying four population centres,” the Hood pointed out. “You may wish to reflect on that while I speak with this preening poseur’s long-range hologram.”     The Parody Master snorted. “You are very brave, Hood, when you have a Celestian barrier to hide behind. But do not think you can conceal your asylum from me forever, nor throw others in my path to distract me from your destruction.”     “Hmph,” said Mumphrey, watching the two archvillains round on each other. He shrugged, poured himself a large whiskey, and perched on his desk to watch.     “It was an error to kill Ms Waltz,” the Hooded Hood told the Parody Master. “That has irritated me.”     “She screams away eternity in my soul-axe,” smirked the tyrant of empires.     “She what?” snapped Sir Mumphrey, suddenly serious again.     “It is because of Ms Waltz that I intend to beat you to a bloody pulp,” the Hooded Hood noted, glaring at the Parody Master. “You really have it coming.”     The armour-clad warrior snorted. “I am the Parody Master! My power is supreme. My strength is unlimited. My abilities make me immune to your feeble interferences with retrospective continuity. On your best day you could not survive battle with me for half a minute.”     The Hood considered this. “At out last meeting I abstracted Jury from your clutches,” he pointed out. “She was most grateful.”     The Parody Master forced himself to remain in control of his temper. Lisa’s mockery still stung. “At our next meeting I will rend you limb from limb and set you to such torment as men will whisper it in horror for all eternity.” He flicked his hand dismissively. “You are not as clever as you think, Hooded Hood.”     Mumphrey snorted. “Well, he couldn’t be as clever as that.” He looked between the two. “But I’ll wager five guineas that if he says he’s going to beat you bloody then he does it.” He continued to irritate the Parody Master by opening his wallet and pulling out the money.     “He has already miscounted,” the Parody Master smirked. “His retcons may have caused the destruction of four of my dreadnaughts – although that will never work again now I am guarding against it – but I arranged for five ships to attack. The vessel over London is still intact.”     “The Cruel Deceiver. Yes,” the Hood agreed. “I liked the name of that one. That’s why I suborned the crew, fomented rebellion, and arranged for it to defect to my service when it arrived here.”     Amber and Garrick backed off as the Parody Master reacted to this knowledge. “Very well,” the conqueror hissed. “If this is to be your moment to inconvenience me, bring it on. Best I finish with you before I claim my spoils.” He pointed an iron-gauntleted finger at the Hooded Hood. “I am looking for you. I will find you.”     The Hood nodded. “Very well. You may want to start looking for me at your Andromeda shipyards. I’ve just arranged for them to be destroyed while you were distracted here with me.” ***     The shift was just changing in the security room at Dominion Base, overlooking the great space shipyards of Mayall II, when the threat board flared into life and warning klaxons rang out across the vast construction site. The senior watch officer stared at the sensor readout with numb disbelief.     Nobody would dare to attack here. The great shipyards in the dwarf galaxy beside the huge Andromeda cluster were vast themselves, a framework of habitats bolted together around a slaved star. This was where the dimensional dreadnaughts were built, and the space construction yard dwarfed the city-sized warships themselves. There were seven million Avatroopers protecting four million ship-builders, ringed by an arsenal that could blow even a dreadnaught into molecules in less than ten seconds. And yet the screens showed an attack.     The great assault ships dropped from hyperspace well inside the countered perimeter, nine thousand wedge-shaped star destroyers each launching their attack fighters. The fields they radiated shut down the automated minefield defences allowing them to sweep right through the security perimeter towards Dominion Base. Behind them five moon-sized artificial objects shimmered in, black, spherical and menacing.     Base watch commander slammed his hand on the Class One Emergency button. The attack was unprecedented and the threat significant, but this was the Parody Master’s shipyard. There were many defences here, not least the hundred and thirty-seven dimensional dreadnaughts being refitted in the chandler bays.     Some months ago the Earth mage Xander the Improbable had sent the Parody Master’s fleet on a massive wild goose chase across the universe, setting them to battle each other with irrevocable orders. It had taken this long for the vessels to be reigned back in – the surviving vessels. Almost half of them were here, now, being repaired and upgraded. At the Class One alarm the majority of them began to slip loose from their moorings and prepare for battle.     Floating on the huge site’s perimeter were massive remote defence platforms. Each one now awoke, its programming assessing the incoming threats and calculating the most efficient way to eliminate them. The nine huge gun towers ringing the base hummed to life and began sending out anti-matter charge packets, any one sufficient to black out a sun.     The invaders approached. One by one the remote defence platforms went dark. Then the gun towers themselves shut down, their power generators fusing and overloading.     “A virus!” warned Senior Technician. “We have something in our system, past all our firewalls! It’s…”     Then the main computer core wiped itself and passed the intruding program on to the dimensional dreadnaughts. Seconds later the massive ships were free-floating out of control.     Back up systems began to take over; but too slowly. The incoming fleet passed the inner defence ring and began their attack run.     Then the anti-viral programmes located the Trojan signal and sealed it out. The sensors looked again at the attackers and this time recognised them for the electronic ghosts they were. A simple reset wiped the battlestars and imperial star destroyers from the threat screen. But the damage had been done. Primary automated defences were down in every habitat. Perimeter security was a ragged shambles.     Every screen in the Security Centre printed up the phrase: If you cut me down I will become more powerful than you can possibly imagine.     And in a screened Xnylonian stealth cruiser on the edge of the Mayall II cluster Hacker Nine grinned to himself as he finished his Doritos and pumped the air. “Gotcha, suckers!” he called. “And for my next trick…” ***     The security monitors fizzed again as the counter-viruses purged the databases. Extrapolation estimates suggested it would take around twenty-two minutes to cleanse and seal operating systems, but sentient nexii of the Reticulum Matrix had been loosed now and would counter any further intrusion.     “No fleet,” Senior Watch Officer snarled. “No invasion. Just some infantile trick.”     VelcroVixen appeared on the main scanner screen. “Hello, minions of the Parody Master. And how are you today?”     There was another frantic scramble amongst the technicians. They couldn’t find where this signal was intruding from. Dominion Base should be sealed now from outside broadcasts.     “I’m here with the Purveyors of Peril on behalf of the Hooded Hood, Earth archvillain and cowled crime czar. He’s instructed me to offer you one chance at surrender. Don’t mistake this as kindness. It’s actually a way of showing how classy he is and leaving your few survivors with a lifetime of regret to scar the rest of your miserable existences. Because we all know you’re not going to actually surrender, don’t we? This is going down the hard way.”     “Find her,” Senior Watch officer commanded. “Capture her.”     More information came to the technicians. “It’s not an external feed. She’s inside the Base!”     “Of course we are,” VelcroVixen grinned, flashing her pearly-white teeth. “So that’s no to the surrender thing, right? We can get on with the blowing things up and the killing you?”     The technicians traced her signal and destructed the computer bank she’s pirated. She was down in Manufacturing Pod 921.     “Well that was just rude,” VV snorted as she avoided the shrapnel from the exploding console. “But let’s take that as no surrender. Purveyors… purvey some peril.” ***     The Purveyors of Peril attacked. In the Avawarrior barracks Anvil Man, UltiMAX-TremeMan and Clonar burst through the bulkheads and fell upon the hastily-assembling troops. They weren’t taking prisoners.     Grit the Granulated Man, Gromm the Living Flatulence, and Dr Roentgen moved between the manufacturing habitats destroying everything as they went. Equipment and personnel that were not wrecked by the hurricane-force sandstorm were seared by the caustic gas clouds or burned up by the nuclear radiation.     Down in Security Node Charon the zombie-callers hastily grabbed their ceremonial ebenezers and called up their techno-zombies. They were horrified when the zombies turned on them instead, a vast shambling army whose flesh-hunger had awoken. Voodoo Vicaress clutched the fetishes in her hands and allowed the shuffling army free reign. When the Parody Cultists arrived to try and restore order Ultraninja ghosted out of the shadows behind them and cut them down.     The lead dimensional dreadnaught was the Pride of the Parody Master. It was the largest and most deadly vessel in the fleet, newly refitted with over a million trans-nuclear warheads aboard. Appendage Man, Brass Monkey, and El Futbalista Atomico stepped through the Portal of Pretentiousness right onto its bridge and began the battle. While Appendage Man giggled as he worked and Brass Monkey transformed those around him to metallic statues while delivering a diatribe about the inferiority of alien lifeforms Xatroc lined up one of his energy footballs and punted it straight into the computer core. A second was destined for the main reactor chamber.     “Take them down!” screamed Senior Watch Officer. “They are only a handful of metahumans. We are millions!”     The Portal flashed again, releasing Razor Ballerina and Wyrmfood right onto the security deck. “You people are totally lame,” the disfigured draconic Tina Drummond told them as she began to tear people apart. Razor Ballerina said nothing. She just hummed Prokofiev as she spun around tearing through flesh and machinery alike.     For a brief moment the Purveyors had the upper hand against the massive forces arrayed before them. The security centre fell silent – apart from Mindy Kovskolski humming Cinderella as she spiralled around the room picking her way gracefully between the dead bodies. Then time and space tore with a scream and the Parody Master arrived to take personal control.     Razor Ballerina and Wyrmfood vanished, pulled back through the Portal of Pretentiousness.     In one of the nine great weapons towers, Mary Prankstar giggled to herself as she watched the chaos. “Hey, PM? Can you hear me? How many Avawarriors does it take to change a light bulb?”     The Parody Master became aware that someone was tampering with the weapons control systems on one of the universe’s most powerful combat structures.     “A hundred million and one,” Mary told him. “One to change the lightbulb and a hundred million to rebuild civilisation to the point we need lightbulbs again.”     The Parody Master willed himself to the weapons tower but was rebuffed by its own anti-teleportation screen.     “No?” the wide-eyed mischief-maker asked him. “Well then how about: None. Real Avawarriors aren’t afraid of the dark.”     The Parody Master burned through the teleport field and shifted himself onto the war bridge beside Mary. He didn’t like humour.     “I don’t care if my jokes bomb,” Mary told him. “If they do they go straight to heaven where they get seventy-two virgin jokes.”     The Parody Master released a blast of force to sear her out of existence. Mary squeaked as she was pulled through the Portal of Pretentiousness a second before her destruction, but at least the energy blast powered up the explosive cascade detonator she’d fitted to the weapons array.     Empowered by the Parody Master himself, the weapons tower sent anti-matter packages out to the other stations and detonated the main habitats around the starport. The whole structure shook then shattered to pieces.     “No,” the Parody Master grimaced. “Not this time.” He concentrated and willed Dominion Base to be whole again.     Brass Monkey piloted the Pride of the Parody Master at the harnessed sun, bailing out through the Portal of Pretentiousness just before the overwhelmed dimensional dreadnaught loosed its entire transnuclear payload into the stellar body and sent it supernova. “How about this time?” the metal gorilla wondered.     The flare of dying sun claimed Dominion Base, expanding outwards at the speed of light, searing materiel and men, vaporising the planetoids the yard scaffolding was built around, consuming everything for half a light year around it; leaving only the Parody Master himself floating in the fiery plasma. ***     A galaxy away, the Purveyors of Peril attacked the Cloning Station on Tycho VII, the Avawarrior Surgery and Training Camps on Hipparchus, and the great robot factories at Cepheus. The Parody Master had immense power but his lieutenants were still scattered across the trans-dimensional vortex and he wasn’t at all the places he needed to be.     Velcro Vixen, Clonar, Gromm, and UltiMAX-TremeMan blinked away through the Portal of Pretentiousness as the Parody Master arrived at the burning ruins of his Cloning Station.     “Not this time,” the Parody Master told them. He gestured to seal the Portal open. Through that he could find the Hooded Hood’s hidden sanctum, and once there he could slaughter minions and archvillain alike.     The Portal flickered but was pinned. The Parody Master drew his soul-axe, pausing only to admire the latest screaming reflection in it, that of the woman who had dared to scorn him, Lisa Waltz. Then he strode through the Portal to destroy his enemies. *** Five Hours Ago:     “Aaaaaghhh!” screamed LeVeau M’Tumbe. “Get off of me! Aaahhh!”     “Nobody is actually on you,” VelcroVixen pointed out to the writhing Voodoo Vicaress. “This isn’t all about you.”     The Haitian woman looked around her. The zombies that had pinned her down and were starting to get very personal were gone. The bloody battlefield was gone. Instead there was a stone chamber with a small fireplace, and Voodoo Vicaress was laid on a chaise lounge with none of her body parts eaten.     “You’re in Herringcarp Asylum,” Vicki Vee supplied with a disdainful sniff at the newcomer’s lack of make-up sense. Who went for that cocaine-chic candomblé look any more anyway? “You were about to be… well let’s say devoured by hordes of the Parody Master’s techno-zombies. Nice work on keeping the undead under control, by the way, necro-girl. And then the Hooded Hood pulled you out of where you were, dropped in an alternate-timeline Voodoo Vicaress to die slowly and horribly, and drafted you into the newest line-up of the Purveyors of Peril.”     “The… Purveyors?” LeVeau was starting to catch up. “My uncle was in the Purveyors. Josiah M’Tumbe. Voodoo Vicar.”     “And yet we’re still giving you a chance,” VelcroVixen sniped.     “I have the spirits of all those Voodoo Vicars who have come before within me,” Voodoo Vicaress boasted.     “Oh dear,” VV replied. “Still, it’s good to have someone around who can be the first casualty. I’d pegged Zelnitz but you could be a contender too.” She looked thoughtful. “Of course, I was really hoping for Prankstar.”     LeVeau pulled herself off the couch and brushed herself down. “So what does it mean, being in the Purveyors? How much do I get paid? What are the perks?”     “Well, El Futbalisto Atomico is pretty cute, though he’s no Josh Clement. And we get to rule the planet after a while.” She shrugged. “It’s not like the Purveyors haven’t conquered the world twice before. But this time we have to kill the Parody Master first.”     Voodoo Vicaress swung round. “What?” *** Four hours ago:     “I could have security here in seconds,” Prince Aarmus of the House of Aarixus warned. “I could have Kriije kill you where you stand.”     The Hooded Hood sat down. “Cease your pointless posturing, Aarmus. If I wanted you dead there are a million ways I could accomplish it without even moving. Without even being here.” His green eyes narrowed. “Especially today. The Hooded Hood is not in a good mood today.”     Kriije, Aarmus’ leman and bodyguard, moved her perfect body between her Master and the intruder. The Hood was a known enemy. It was he who had arranged the extraction of Prince Kiivan, Heir of Caph, and who was behind the rebellion which threatened everything that Aarmus had seized. But she also knew how realistic her chances of stopping the cowled crime czar were. She’d read Ancient Shadara’s files on the archvillain.     “If you haven’t come to kill me then what have you come for?” Aarmus demanded. “I have a coronation to plan. My ascendance as Caliph.”     The confrontation was taking place on the terrace balcony of Aarmus’ palace, overlooking the oasis city on the lush world of Caph IX. The rooftop garden was beautiful, populated with rare plants and rare birds. It was a deceptively peaceful place to discuss the doom of a planet.          “You have the handover of power from the occupying Thonnagarian Pigeon Warriors to the Parody Master to plan,” the Hood corrected the Prince. “The Thonaggarian survivors sought to make this world their new dominion, but after a year or troubles have realised that they cannot hold what they sought to seize. So now they wish to trade their disputed conquest for a place in the Parody Master’s favour at the forefront of his armies, and you intend to take the transfer of authority as an opportunity to elevate yourself to a stolen throne.”     Aarmus wasn’t happy to have his long subtle plans laid so bare so casually. “Perhaps. There is power in the universe greater than yours, Hooded Hood.”     The Hood nodded. “That is why we are talking, Aarmus. I would have you delay the transfer for a little while. No more than two weeks at the most. I wish the Parody Master’s administrators to be held up by red tape for a short time.” He looked at the Caphan usurper and his slave. “I would have you do it.”     “Why should my Master do as you ask?” demanded Kriije. “What do you offer in return?”     The Hooded Hood suggested his terms, and outlined possible scenarios.     Aarmus didn’t have to consider long. “Yes,” he agreed, rubbing his hands together. “They were wrong about you, Hood. They said you never told lies.”     “I have not broken my word in any way by making this arrangement with you,” the cowled crime czar answered. “Did you really think I cared about the Caphan cause, or freedom of the oppressed? I have used the resistance to my advantage, but now I have another use for Caph. A final use.”     “So you will keep your word to me?” Aarmus persisted. “The bargain.”     “I shall,” agreed the Hooded Hood. “Delay the exchange as I desire and I shall transfer to you ownership of my slave, Ohanna of Raael. She shall be yours to hold.”     The two men clasped hands on the deal. *** Three hours ago:     “Say hello to your new team-mate, Purveyors,” VelcroVixen instructed the bizarre collection of villains clustered in the solar waiting to go into action. “This is Voodoo Vicaress. Try not to snigger. She probably won’t be with us for long.”     “I have a lineage,” LeVeau snapped back. “As opposed to a waiting list.”     “Welcome to the Purveyors, chica,” a handsome man in football kit bade her, kissing her hand and smiling. “I am Xatroc, and I for one am delighted to see another great beauty join our team.”     “Cause he’s not getting anywhere with the ones we got right now,” Grit the Granulated Man snorted. “Well, not since Vicki’s induction session.” The man of sand held out one hand-shaped part of him. “I’m Brick Basalt, and I know better than to mess with hoodoo. Nowadays.”     LeVeau could see the enchantments at work around him. Some kind of ancient curse binding his consciousness to elemental material, she guessed. “Voodoo, not hoodoo,” she answered feebly.     “Actually, you should consider that,” Mary Prankstar advised, leaning back on two legs of her chair and palming aces from a 1982 Monopoly deck. “We can’t really have two villainesses with the initials VV. It’s just too confusing, from a trademark point of view. You could be HoodooHussy. Or MumboJumboMama? Zombie Tsarina?”     “Killeth,” said Clonar.     “That’s Anvil Man,” VelcroVixen went on. “Razor Ballerina, Ultraninja, Wormfood…”     “That chick is all messed up,” noted UltiMAX-TremeMan. “I mean you’d think with a face like that she’d be desperate for a date, but…”     “Killeth,” said Clonar.     “UltiMAX-TremeMan,” sighed VelcroVixen, “Appendage Man – don’t shake hands. Roentgen.”     “Doctor Roentgen,” corrected the huge being in the radiation suit. “I am a scientist. A genius.”     “He was clever enough to get himself all blowed up,” Anvil Man snickered. “Then he got spanked by the Manga Shoggoth and had all his powers sucked out of him.”     “The Hooded Hood retconned that,” the walking nuclear holocaust retorted testily. “It didn’t happen.”     “Killeth,” said Clonar.     Voodoo Vicaress looked over at the strange hairy giant with the electrodes in his skull. “Um…”     “Failed cloning experiment from stolen DNA of the Ausgardian hemigod of thunder,” Brass Monkey summarised. “Locked away in a secret lab that Hacker Nine of course found out about. I liberated the poor dumb beast and taught him the rudiments of human behaviour.”     “Killeth,” said Clonar.     “As I said,” smirked the metallic gorilla. “I’m Brass Monkey, by the way. Another genius. A better one.”     “Also don’t shake hands,” Grit advised. “He transforms things into brass when he touches them. It’s creepy.”     “That’s most of our little cabal,” VelcroVixen explained to LeVeau. “That strange odour is Gromm, the Living Flatulence, a Deviate composed entirely of gas. He doesn’t really like humans. Hacker Nine isn’t here right now since he’s doubling undercover somewhere but he’ll be with us for the big push. And there’s the Doomherald who’s off brooding somewhere.”     “I could never brood over a skirt,” UltiMAX-TremeMan opined. “Hell, just grab ‘em and have ‘em.”     “I could rip his spine out and eat it,” Wyrmfood offered. “If I could find it.” She flexed her draconic claws. A tiny lick of flame escaped her mouth.     “I’m so getting a paper out of this,” Mary Prankstar assured the room.     “Killeth,” said Clonar. *** Two hours ago:     “My condolences,” said the Hooded Hood.     “You can stick your condolences,” replied Daio Waltz, the diabolical Dr Moo, “and tell me what you’re going to do about my sister. Bring her back.”     The cowled crime czar shook his head. “That is not within my abilities. The Parody Master has taken to generating a field of narrative permanence around him since he captured the accoutrements of the Shaper of Worlds. My own abilities are insufficient to overcome this. What the Parody Master does is done, and cannot be retconned.”     “But you must have seen this coming,” Moo objected. “Come on, Ioldobaoth. We both know you wouldn’t get taken by surprise about something like this. Especially concerning Lisa.”     “Indeed,” conceded the Hood. “But I could find no future in which the outcome was at all satisfactory without her sacrifice.”     “So you threw her to the Parody Master because it was expedient.”     “Because it was necessary. You know your sister. She would not have shied from making that sacrifice if she knew what was at stake.”     “And you didn’t shy from sending her.”     The Hooded Hood dipped his head. “You know what we might face. You have seen what will happen if the Parody Master triumphs this time. We have all discussed it, you, me, Book, Akiko, Granny Grimness, the others.”     “If the Parody Master takes the Earth he takes the Parodyverse,” Daio conceded. “And if he takes the Parodyverse he’ll get bored with no fresh worlds to conquer. So he burns up the whole Parodyverse for raw energy and heads out into the multiverse beyond, no longer tied to this one collection of narrative dimensions because he has consumed it. He roams the multiverse at will, ever more unstoppable, taking his destruction with him, conquering all before him.”     “Correct. So he must be stopped. No cost is too high.”     “Not even Lisa? Not Dancer? Not the Juniors? Not your little Caphan pets?”     “What are the lives of some few children compared to the harm such events will do to the Parody Master? What matter if the Caphan race is destroyed, so long as it serves the plans of… the Hooded Hood?”     Dr Moo’s eyes were bleak and cold. “What are you going to do?” she asked again. “How far is this going to go?”     “All the way,” promised the Hooded Hood. And he closed his eyes. *** One hour ago:     “We are leaving,” Gideon Book told Anvil Man. “Step aside.”     The rusty-armoured war machine obediently stood away from Herringcarp Asylum’s main door, guided by the Word of Order’s Voice of Reason.     “That’s a good trick,” applauded the Doomherald, appearing from a shadowed archway. “That must make you very popular at parties. If you ever went to parties.”     “The former minion of the Parody Master,” noted Pelopia, Priestess of Logos, stepping between the Doomherald and her father. “You will claim neither the Word nor me.”     Exu snorted. “You got the memo about me defecting, right? I’m out of the bride-gathering biz. I’m signed up for the Hood’s team now.”     “Do not interfere with our departure,” ordered Book.     The Doomherald rubbed his stubbly chin. “Yeah, about that. Turns out I’m immune to your Voice. Not sure why, but I am.”     “Then I will kill you if you try to stop us,” Pelopia promised.     “Ooh, lovely,” Exu said, stretching. “Murderous intent. Better than candy.” He turned serious. “But I can’t let you go. Not without the Hood’s permission. It’s rude.”     “The Hood has sheltered us for a time,” the Word of Order conceded, “but now his gambits verge on brinkmanship. He gambles everything on one confrontation, and I am not a man given to gambling. So I shall take my daughter and depart before the consequences of the Hood’s choices fall upon us. You will not stop us.”     “Kind of thinking that I might,” confided the Doomherald.     “You will not stop us,” the Word repeated, “because you will have other things to think about. I know things about you, Exu, which you do not.”     The leather-clad former god of murder paused in mid-confrontation with Pelopia. “Okay, intriguing and mysterious. Shoot.”     “I know that you were not found by the Parody Master by accident,” Book revealed. “What were the chances of him stumbling upon a tattered dying echo of a fallen god in all the vastness of the transdimensional vortex? He was directed to you, manipulated. By the Hooded Hood.”     Exu considered this. “Possible,” he agreed. “Which suggests machinations I’m not 100% happy with. Go on.”     “I know that you are not the only significant cosmic being who has called himself Exu. The GatewayTraitorGalaxyTraveller!, founder of the CrazySugarFreakLine! from the dawn of time, perpetrator of the Janus junctures that released the Hero Feeders on the Parodyverse, is likewise named. Coincidence?”     The Doomherald felt a tug in his blurred memory. “What?”     “I wonder what you were before?” the Word speculated. “Before you were half-erased by the Lurkers Below when the Second Oldest Race fell? Before you were even adopted as their god of murder in the first place? What happened to you back then?” Book shrugged and turned back to the doors. “I’d want to ask a few relevant questions,” he noted, “of people who could offer answers.”     Exu tried to capture the missing thoughts that danced just beyond the edge of his consciousness. There was something missing, something he could almost grasp. Something important.     By the time he looked up again, Book and Pelopia had gone. *** Now:     The Parody Master overpowered the Portal of Pretentiousness and stepped through its mirrored surface to kill the Hooded Hood.     He staggered back gasping with a scythe buried in his chest.     The Bloodreaper howled after him, raking with claws and goring with horns. The Bloodreaper was in a bad mood.     “Back, beast!” the Parody Master snarled, slapping the red-skinned Hellraiser away. The monster was knocked aside but came back eager to continue the fight.     “I know who you are,” the Bloodreaper called as he swung his scythe again. “You’ve got a rep, but I love killing the big names!”     The Parody Master deflected the scythe with his own axe, ignored the gaping bloody hole in his chest, and pressed his counterattack. “Idiot psychopath,” he shouted. “You hate the Hooded Hood, yet you’re doing his work for him!”     The Bloodreaper drew strength from those he hurt. Right now he’d got a big power boost from the Parody Master himself. “I hate everybody,” the monster replied. “First I kill you. Then I use your strength to kill him. It’s a win-win scenario.”     The Parody Master willed his strength, speed, and endurance to increase again. It cost him something; he’s had to use so many reserves today. “This is it, is it? The Hooded Hood’s big plan? Drain my resources then send a demonic killing machine to use my own power against me?”     “Who cares what the plan is?” the Bloodreaper snarled, slashing through his enemy’s crimson and black armour with devastating force. “I just like the slaughter.”     The Parody Master unleashed a wave of energy sufficient to black out a star. The Bloodreaper sliced it aside with his scythe. “You think you’re the only one with a Prime Weaponsmith blade?” the berserker mocked.     “You’re powerful,” the Parody Master admitted, his mind working fast now. The conflict was hurting him. It wasn’t fun any more. “More powerful than you should be, even with what you’re leaching from me. Far more powerful.”     “All the better to rend you with!” called the Bloodreaper, renewing his attacks. The gashes the Parody Master’s soul axe were leaving on him closed up almost immediately.     “There’s something more… Something…” The Parody Master extended his senses outwards. “Of course!” he frowned. “You!”     Now he knew what to look for, the Doomherald was obvious. The former god of murder could empower murderers.     “Busted,” agreed Exu. “Sorry, boss. You really shouldn’t have blown my chest out that one time.”     The Parody Master staggered back as the Bloodreaper renewed his assaults. The beast was sheer savagery. It was enjoying the battle.     Time and space twisted at the Parody Master’s will. Exu was hurled far from the Reaper, momentarily severing his support for the killing rampage. The Bloodreaper tried to tear out his adversary’s throat. The Parody Master lashed back, burying his axe into the Hellraiser’s neck, searing the monster with lethal radiations across the spectrum.     The Doomherald shifted back in. His gift to find murderers was strong, and it was no effort at all to track the Bloodreaper and the Parody Master. “You’re a pretty fair tactician,” Exu declared to his former boss. “What do you think the Hooded Hood’s doing while you’re dancing with us?”     A whole range of scenarios suggested themselves to the Parody Master. Amongst the worst was the idea that the Portal of Pretentiousness was somehow transmitting this combat across the universe, showing all those races he had cowed that he was not yet indestructible and invulnerable.     The Parody Master willed it not to be. If anyone was to give an object lesson today let it be him. He shifted the combat so that now he was in the ceremonial arena at the Jax’Ta’Har in the heart of the Shee-Yar Empire; as public a venue as was possible.     “You want to show my people what power is, Hood? What victory is? Then let them see!”     He psychically blasted the Doomherald down with a revelation of his past. It was clear that Exu had it on his mind. The Parody Master buried him in recovered memories. The former god of murder fell over with a cry.     Then the Parody Master turned to the Bloodreaper.     “Everybody watch this,” the Parody Master declared to the Parodyverse. “I want everyone to see this.”     “Your spleen?” mocked the Bloodreaper, lunging forward.     The Parody Master enhanced his axe and hurled it right into the Hellraiser’s skull. It cleaved the horned being’s head in two, screaming as it sliced. The Parody Master held out his hands like claws, pointed, and seared the life from his enemy.     It took a long time for the Bloodreaper to die, but the Parody Master didn’t mind.     He rose, battered and bloody but triumphant, in the sight of all his people. He willed his wounds to close, his armour to mend. He stood tall over the corpse of the Bloodreaper and the twitching mind-stunned Doomherald.     “Here endeth the lesson,” he told the Parodyverse.     “Not quite,” said the Hooded Hood, stepping through the Portal. He doffed his cape and smoothed the black leather gloves on his balled fists. “I have a promise to keep to you.” ***     “What the hell is he doing?” demanded Herbert Garrick, watching the Parodyverse-wide broadcast from the Shee-Yar Empire. The transmission penetrated even the Celestian barrier by the will of the Parody Master.     “Makin’ an ass of the enemy,” answered Sir Mumphrey Wilton. It was the first time he’d even spoken about the Hooded Hood with anything like approval.     “He’s going to get slaughtered,” predicted Amber St Clare.     Mumphrey tapped the money he’d laid on the table. “Don’t underestimate the blaggard,” he said. “He’s picked his moment. The Parody Master’s been pounded on by the Lair Legion, had to stitch together a dimension twice, been blown across realities, pushed five dreadnaughts through a Celestian barrier, survived a supernova, and taken on an amped-up Bloodreaper. Chap’s got to be runnin’ on empty.”     “You’re saying the Hooded Hood foresaw all that, set things up to wear the Parody Master down?” Natalia Romanza asked. “Sneaky.”     “I’m saying,” said Sir Mumphrey Wilton, leaning forward to watch the monitor screen intently, “that nobody yet has thought to ask what happened to all that raw cosmic power that the Infinity Forge spilled into the Vortex when it exploded.”     On the broadcast the Hooded Hood was approaching the Parody Master, fists raised. ***     “You’re a fool,” the Parody Master mocked, waiting as the Hooded Hood approached. “Your schemes and plans can be very annoying, but this… suicide attack is hardly your forté.”     The Hooded Hood’s fist blurred out and smashed in the side of his enemy’s helmet, crumpling it like a tin can. The Parody Master was sent crashing backwards into the pillars of the arena.     “Stolen strength,” the Parody Master registered, rising and shaking his head to clear the ringing. “From the Infinity Forge.”     “Hardly stolen,” the Hood replied. “It was I who helped Holy Taus towards the discoveries that made the Forge possible. I learned a lot from that brief crossover with heroes and artefacts from another universe. But it seemed appropriate to let you use your resources to create it for me.”     The Parody Master feinted, using millennia of experience to dodge the Hood’s next attack and plant a crippling blow into the cowled crime czar’s skull. “Then you’ve outsmarted yourself, Hood. I know how much power the Forge can give. And the answer is: not enough.”     The Hood came back, using the power he’d absorbed to heal himself, enhancing his strength and speed and endurance exactly as the Parody Master usually did. He drew upon the pugilism lessons he’d had with 18th century boxer Jack Broughton. He wasn’t a master of many forms of combat like his opponent; but he calculated that the Parody Master had rarely faced opponents truly in his weight class.     The Parody Master was in a rage now. He could feel the Hood’s stolen power countering his own, suppressing his abilities down to mortal levels. The Hood wasn’t trying to overwhelm him with it as he’d expected. He was levelling the playing field.     “You think this will help you?” the Parody Master mocked, spitting blood from his mouth and smashing down his adversary. “I am the greatest warrior in infinity. I live by war. I have never lost a fight save by treachery.”     “You’ve never won one except by cheating,” the Hood countered. He brought his foot up to catch the lunging conqueror in the midriff. “Anyone can triumph when they can amplify their powers to whatever’s necessary to win. But the Lair Legion came within an inch of defeating you earlier. The Earth forces won their battle on the conceptual plane. And now you have an almost fair fight for the first time.”     The Parody Master’s savagery increased. “You think you have a chance? I’ll crush you! Kill you with my bare hands.” The Hood has manoeuvred the fight away from the Bloodreaper’s body with the soul-axe buried in it.     The Hood headbutted the Parody Master then slammed him in the midriff. “Your mistake,” the cowled crime czar told him, “was in killing Lisa Waltz. I knew it would happen, of course, but I was taken completely by surprise by how much it bothered me. You have robbed the Parodyverse of a bright, burning star, and I am going to beat you into the ground for it. I am going to make you bleed. I am going to make you pay!”     There was a savage tone in the Hood’s voice and an unusual timbre. For once the Hood was telling the absolute unvarnished truth.     The Parody Master laughed. “The slut? She’s nothing. You’re nothing. You’ll die as she did. You’ll…”     The Hooded Hood caught him in the face again with a nose-crumpling right hook, then another with the left. He didn’t retort. He simply responded with blow after blow after blow. He channelled his fury and remorse and self-loathing into his fists and slammed into his enemy.     The Parody Master didn’t go down. He drew upon his own frustration and rage to overcome his limitations. He fought back, hearing the satisfying crunch of his adversary’s bones, seeing the Hood’s blood on his fists. The pain stirred him to fight as never before. The contest inspired him.     The Hood’s knuckles caught him again below the rib-case, pounding through the wreckage of his armour, hammering right into his belly. He retorted with a chest-shattering blow that sent the Hood barrelling backwards. The Parody Master tried to make a clever retort, but there was no breath in his lungs.     The Hooded Hood was burning off the Infinity Forge’s energy fast now, to hold back the massive power that the Parody Master could normally bring forth. The fight couldn’t go much longer. The Hood ignored his injuries and went in again. The two men locked their arms round each other and rolled on the floor. Lightning crackled between them.     “It’s… over,” the Parody Master hissed through gritted teeth (what were left of them). “Die!”     “I… think… not…” The Hood found the willpower to force another half-roll so that he was on top of the Parody Master. He drew back his arm and punched down. There was a snapping squishing noise. He hit again. And again. And again.     The Parody Master tried to muffle his cry of pain as that fist crushed his head with each blow. He knew he could prevail. He could already sense the limits of his opponent’s power. But it hurt so much.     The Hooded Hood felt the last of his borrowed energies boil away. He rolled off the bloody pulp of the Parody Master and crawled back towards the Bloodreaper. The Doomherald had gone.     The Parody Master felt his energies returning, renewed from all around him, from the essence of the Parodyverse itself. He stitched his body back together, reinflated his lungs, repaired the shattered limbs. He sat up.     The Hooded Hood dragged himself to the Bloodreaper’s corpse and grasped the handle of the soul-axe. He didn’t have the strength to lift it.     The Parody Master stood up, willing himself whole again. It took far too long. He hated the Hood for making him weak. He planned his revenge.     The Hood touched the icy metal surface of the axe, his fingers caressing one of the faces reflected there. “I miss you, Lisa” he whispered. “When the time is right, do what you can.” He passed the last scraps of Infinity Forge energy into the weapon and felt them received where he wanted them to go. His eyes flashed green.     The Parody Master strode over to finish him.     The Hooded Hood laughed and allowed the Portal of Pretentiousness to spirit him home. He’d known he could never destroy the Parody Master in combat. What he’d done was better.     The Parody Master seized up his axe and lifted it in triumph. He had won again. His enemy had fled, beaten. He was undefeated.     There were no cheers. The Parodyverse was watching and had drawn its own conclusions. ***     “Hmph,” said Sir Mumphrey Wilton, tugging his moustaches. “Dash it all. Now the blasted Hood’s gone and raised the bar. Looks like we’ve got some planning to do to thump the Parody Master harder than that.”     And he began to think. ***     The Hooded Hood tumbled through the Portal and collapsed in a heap on the floor of Herringcarp Asylum.     “Crap!” said Anvil Man, holding back because shovel-hands are hardly the best thing to treat a critically wounded man with. “Look at him!”     “He’s going to be fine!” VelcroVixen shouted despite all evidence to the contrary. “Just give him some space. Get Dr Moo.”     “He sure took one massive beating,” Grit admitted, watching the blood seep across the flagstones, “but damn he gave the Parody Master bastard a licking too!”     “Is he breathing?” asked Mary Prankstar worriedly, looking for her electro-shock joy buzzers. “Mistah H?”     “Homo sapiens break so easily,” noted Brass Monkey.     “Killeth,” said Clonar.     In the general bustle and borderline panic in the Hood’s throne room nobody noticed Ultraninja withdraw to her room. There she opened the tiny box she had concealed on her person and allowed the size-changing particles within it return the contents to their proper size.     The Narrative Bomb was roughly the size of a torpedo and it had one silver button on the top.     Ultraninja followed the orders of her Master and pushed the button.     The Narrative Bomb exploded. Herringcarp Asylum was overwritten from the Parodyverse along with everyone inside it. *** Next: We’ve seen the homefront, we’ve seen the battlefields. Now it’s time to look in on the other side and find out what’s really going on beyond the Celestian barrier. And who better to send to look than Trickshot and Yuki Shiro? Adventure, intrigue, danger, and quite probably more things blowing up, as we go behind Enemy Lines, coming soon. *** The Purveyors of Peril (version 4) Gathered together to serve the Hooded Hood, the Purveyors are the varsity of super-villainy. Some join for personal gain, others for the prestige of being on the A-list of criminals, others because of some deal with the cowled crime czar, some out of fear. The first and second incarnations of the PoP both succeeded in taking over the world before they were finally defeated. This time round the line-up includes: VelcroVixen (field leader), Anvil Man, the appalling Appendage Man, Brass Monkey, The Bloodreaper, Clonar, Dr Roentgen, the Doomherald, El Futbalista Atomico, Grit the Granulated Man, Gromm the Living Flatulence, Hacker Nine, Mary Prankstar, Razor Ballerina, UltiMAX-TremeMan, Ultraninja, Voodoo Vicaress, Wyrmfood VelcroVixen (Field Leader) Real Name: Vicki Vee Occupation: Former fetishwear model, now professional “number one” henchman Identity: Formerly publicly revealed (in that embarrassing incident with Jarvis, the dissolving costume, and the Tupperware convention); then forgotten due to the retconning of the Hooded Hood, and then publicly revealed again. Legal Status: Citizen of the US with a massive and only partially retconned-away list of convictions for theft, extortion, animal molestations, and presidential fellatio. Known Relatives: Monica Lewinsky Group Affiliation: Now main hormonal selling point and field-leader of the Purveyors of Peril; previously second-in-command to Count Fokker, the Devil Doctor, Count Armageddon, and a massive number of other villains with normal heterosexual urges. Base of Operations: Herringcarp Asylum on Stroker’s Island, or a penthouse that doesn’t belong to her somewhere on the West Coast First Appearance: Tales to Admonish #122 History: No way is this stuff gonna get printed on a nice family board like this. Uh-uh! And certainly not all that stuff with the dwarves and the ben-gay lotion. Just make it up for yourselves. Let’s just say she was once Jarv’s favourite villainess, that’s she’s “battled” De Brown Streak quite a lot, and now she’s looking for another cool stud-muffin to have a strange good guy bad girl sexual attraction for. Height: Michelle Pfeiffer Weight: Victoria Principal Eyes: Kim Basinger Hair: Jane Seymour Strength Level: She can out-wrestle Jarvis three times out of four. Known Superhuman Powers: None. She’s just real agile, real good with pointy things, real clever at unlocking things, real ruthless at manipulating people, and real stylish in being able to put up sales of magazines when she appears on the cover in bondage. Anvil Man Real Name: Brendan McGillicuddy Occupation: Terrorist; formerly demolitions expert Identity: Known to law enforcement agencies but not known to the public, since nobody can get him out of that damned armour he wears. Legal Status: Wanted criminal recently escaped from the Safe. Group Affiliation: The Purveyors of Peril; formerly Terminus Team Base of Operations: Herringcarp Asylum on Stroker’s Island First Appearance: Long, long ago, so far back that it was before anybody archived this stuff. History: After a mystic accident, soldier of fortune McGillicuddy found himself enclosed within irremovable indestructible battle armour. He has since pursued life as a career supervillain, battling Donar, Fin Fang Foom, and most of the other A-list good guys. He has even teamed up with the Lair Legion when paid enough money. His tenure on the government’s villain rehab Terminus Team ended when the Hooded Hood retconned him out of certain death back into the Purveyors of Peril of which he was an original member. Height: 7’ in his rusty orange-brown armour Weight: 1.5 tons Eyes: Can’t see for that armour and the indestructibility aura around it. Hair: Who knows? Strength Level: Very strong indeed, up there in the Donar class, verging on Yurt-strong. Known Superhuman Powers: Anvil Man’s indestructible armour means he is very hard to stop, and gives him massive strength and endurance. He does not need to breathe or eat, and if he has to go to the toilet nobody talks about it since the armour doesn’t come off. However, Anvil Man’s most dangerous power is the ability to make inanimate objects explode by looking at them. He can launch grenades and other missiles from his body or simply cause things to explode by concentrating on them for a short while. The appalling Appendage Man Real Name: Milton Freebish Occupation: Former rubber appliance manufacturer, now full time psychotic serial killer Identity: Nobody has stayed alive long enough to find out his origin but it has something to do with the genetic manipulation experiments of the Devil Doctor. Legal Status: Criminally insane; he ate the judge at his first trial Place of Birth: Hell, Nebraska Marital Status: He's after your wife. Known Relatives: All eaten Group Affiliation: the Purveyors of Peril. Until he eats them. Base of Operations: Herringcarp Asylum, Stroker's Island; specifically the septic tank First Appearance: Fin Fang Foom Special Edition #3 (fold-out foil cover version) History: After a terrible accident with a condom machine and a radioactive isotope, mild-mannered Milton Freebish rampaged across the world as the insane Appendage Man. Foom eventually faced down the villain in an eat-or-be-eaten showdown, as recapped in "The Hooded Hood and the Purveyors of Peril" (see the Hooded Hood’s Homepage of Doom). Appendage Man has also got a special grudge against Cobra. His personal hero is Hannibal Lektor. Height: Variable Weight: Variable Eyes: Variable in colour and number Hair: Variable, look, haven't you got the idea yet that this guy is constantly shifting shapes and growing new and ever more bizarre appendages? Strength Level: Variable Known Superhuman Powers: Able to shift size and shape and to form a range of increasingly obscene limbs and, uh, bits. Foomy really had to watch his back in this fight. The Bloodreaper Real Name: They call him MISTER the Bloodreaper Occupation: Slaughterer of millions Identity: The Bloodreaper’s existence is very well chronicled Legal Status: Escaped convicted felon Group Affiliations: The Hellraisers; he’s a Purveyor of Peril right up to the point where he can find ways of slaughtering his team-mates Base of Operations: None First Appearance: Mentioned in Untold Tales #164, appeared “on screen” Untold Tales #172 History: The Bloodreaper’s origin has not been revealed but he appears to be of a demonic nature. His crimson skin, red horns, fangs and claws seem to support the theory. He is cruel, vicious, and cunning but not particularly smart or good at long-range planning. He first appeared as one of the dimension-ravaging Hellraisers, spreading fear and bloodshed across whole dimensions. After being tricked into captivity he was imprisoned for some years in Herringcarp Asylum, then escaped to cause the deaths of thousands – including Lair Legion support staff - in the last rampage of the Hellraisers. He was released from government custody to attack the Hooded Hood and was again imprisoned in Herringcarp Asylum by the cowled crime czar. Until now. Height: 7’2” Weight: 340lb Eyes: Blood red Hair: None Skin: Crimson Strength Level: At baseline the Bloodreaper is a little less strong than Donar. Each kill he makes amps up his strength more, with no known upper limit. Known Superhuman Powers: The Bloodreaper is an insanely powerful physical killing machine. The deaths he cause each make him stronger (including some vestigial permanent gain in power – and he’s killed billions). He can recover from seemingly-mortal injuries in seconds, regenerating even from ashes, restoring lost limbs. He has a natural ferocity and wily battle-skill that make him a devastating close range opponent. The Bloodreaper uses a long-handled scythe that he appears to be able to summon and restore at will. The scythe seems able to cut through almost anything and screams as it cleaves. Brass Monkey Real Name: Gorilla Grott Occupation: Evil genius bio-chemist Identity: Unknown to the public Legal Status: Exiled citizen of the ape city of Vesalia, Africa Known Relatives: Evil Monkey, Rape Ape Group Affiliations: The Purveyors of Peril, the Warren Ellis Fan Club; formerly the Purveyors of Peril Base of Operations: Herringcarp Asylum, Stroker’s Island First Appearance: Untold Tales #301 History: Exiled from Vesalia along with his allies Evil Monkey and Sock Monkey for their attempts to overthrow the government, Grott spent time studying with the diabolical Dr Moo until Davidowicz got jealous and a random lab accident transformed the gorilla into a metallic statue. However, Brass Monkey eventually regained his mobility and discovered that he also had super-powers. He used his newfound gifts for criminal activities to fund his experiments but was caught by Giant Robot Six and incarcerated until he plea-bargained a place on the Terminus Team. He was snatched from certain death by the Portal of Pretentiousness and added to the Purveyors of Peril. Brass Monkey has intellectual pretensions and his speech patterns include many long words to demonstrate his intelligence. Height: 6’1” Weight: 950lb Eyes: Brass Hair: Brass and, you know, all over his body Strength Level: Pretty strong, say Yuki-class but not Donar class Known Superhuman Powers: Enhanced physical abilities, including damage resistance (dents in his metallic body fill out again in a couple of minutes), massive strength, speed, and agility, plus the ability to transmit static charge and the power to take rubbings of 3-D shapes. He also uses a “Brass Ray” in combat, an invention of his own design that only seems to work for him which transforms his enemies into immobile brass statues for one hour seven minutes. Clonar Real Name: Clonar (Batch 169/64B) Occupation: Clone Identity: Known to Project: Medusa Legal Status: Proprietary wetware patented by Project: Medusa Known Relatives: Cloned from gore sampled from Donar, hemigod of Thunder Group Affiliations: The Purveyors of Peril Base of Operations: Herringcarp Asylum, Stroker's Island First Appearance: Untold Tales #302 History: Clonar was a failed experiment to replicate the fabled Ausgardian hemigod of thunder. This ill-formed brain-damaged copy went wild on his first mission and slaughtered Ethnic Growing-Man. He was due to be dissected by Dr Weed Wrichards when he was liberated to join the Purveyors of Peril. Height: 6’5” Weight: 260lbs without the armour Eyes: One red, one green Hair: Black with red streaks (but they might just be gore from victims or seeping brain) Strength Level: Vast Known Superhuman Powers: Clonar has massive strength, endurance, damage resistance, and stupidity. He can also absorb and redirect lightning. He uses a technologically advanced battle mace recycled from technopolitican armaments. Dr Roentgen Real Name: Stanislaus Vladim Roentgen, PhD Occupation: Nuclear physicist Identity: Publicly known, first as a hero of Candia, then as a traitor to the party Legal Status: Wanted felon in the People’s Fraternal Republic of Candia Group Affiliations: The Purveyors of Peril; formerly GloPCrAp Base of Operations: Herringcarp Asylum, Stroker’s Island First Appearance: Untold Tales #232 History: Dr Roentgen was the Glorious People’s foremost atomic scientist, specialising in finding clever uses for Candia’s massive uranium stockpiles. His experiments on himself eventually resulted in him becoming a being of pure radiation contained within a heavy lead-lined rad-suit. He used his nuclear might as a member of the Glorious People’s Crimefighting Apparachik (GloPCrAp). When his secret criminal plots were exposed he tried to nuke Candia but was stopped by the Manga Shoggoth, Hatman, and team-maye Zvesti Zdrugo (Rabid Wolf). He was depowered by the Shoggoth and imprisoned in Candia. His release and retconning back of his abilities were arranged by… the Hooded Hood. Height: 6’2” Weight: 0, although his containment suit weights around 90lb Eyes: None, but there are two red glowing pinpricks behind his heavy lead-glass visor Hair: None Strength Level: Nothing special Known Superhuman Powers: As living radiation, Dr Roentgen can channel massive searing bursts of energy, can detonate in atomic-level explosions, can infuse humans with radiation to make them “rad-zombies”, can travel massive distances at the speed of light (without his suit) and can sense radiation frequencies around him. The Doomherald Real Name: Exu Occupation: Former herald of the Parody Master, former god of murder Identity: Not known to the public but known to the Lair Legion Legal Status: Illegal offworld intruder wanted for war crimes Known Relatives: Exu is not yet aware that he is an altered-continuity shard of Exu the GatewayTraitorGalaxyTraveller! from the beginning of time, who also exists in the modern age as Dr Xeno Phobia Group Affiliations: The Purveyors of Peril, formerly the legions of the Parody Master, formerly the pantheon of deities of the Second Oldest Race Base of Operations: Herringcarp Asylum, Stroker’s Island First Appearance: Untold Tales #238 History: When the Hero Feeders fell upon the Second Oldest Race in creation, erasing their history, achievements, people, and even their name, very little was strong enough to survive. But somehow their god of murder persisted beyond his worshippers’ downfall, surviving on the margins of existence until found and revived by the Parody Master. Exu was remade and re-empowered as the Parody Master’s Doomherald, his prime emissary, and served in this capacity for a significant length of time. He came to Earth to demand its surrender and was impressed by the courage of the people there. When he kidnapped Liu Xi Xian to become a bride of the Parody Master he began to have second thoughts about the path he was taking, culminating in his turning on his Master to save the elementalist. Exu and Liu Xi became mutually dependent during a time lost together in Comic-Book Limbo. Since then Exu has allied himself with the Hooded Hood in exchange for an opportunity to again save Liu Xi’s life, this time by murdering a Singularity Rider. Height: 5’ 11” Weight: 216lb Eyes: Grey Hair: Dark brown Strength Level: Three or four times human, but he can increase it at will for short periods of time up to massive levels. Known Superhuman Powers: As the Doomherald, Exu could easily traverse time and space and dimensions, drawing upon the power of his Master at need to enhance his physical abilities and perceptions. Even now Exu can shift between most planes, but only into the presence of murderers. As a god of murder Exu drew power from murderous intentions and acts (and still may), and can be aware of the circumstances of any murder if he chooses to focus on it. He can empower murder attempts to make them more likely to succeed, including his own attacks. Murderous attacks against him feed his power. He is skilled with all weapons and techniques of murder. El Futbolista Atomico Real Name: Xatroc Occupation: Former international soccer star, current mercenary Identity: Known to Public Legal Status: Wanted Known Relatives: Sister "Shaxira" (Latina pop star), Uncle "Tio Benji" (deceased) Group Affiliations: Former member of Argentinian national soccer team Base of Operations: Parodyverse First Appearance: Balls Out #2 History: A National sports hero who was made into his country's official superhero by being exposed to comic-book radiation and given a pair of "Atomic Cleats" Height: 6' Weight: 179lb Eyes: Dark Brown Hair: Black, in cornrows Strength Level: Superstrong, about 70% of whatever Mr. Epitome is Known Superhuman Powers: Superhuman strength, speed, and durability. And experts at savate and that Brazilian martial arts/dance style that's name currently escapes me (Capieria?) Can use his "Atomic Cleats" to create energy spheres that he can kick around with deadly accuracy. Spheres emit a powerful electrical charge if someone touches them with their hands Grit, the Granulated Man Real Name: Brick Basalt Occupation: Supervillain, former tomb robber Identity: Known to Public Legal Status: Wanted Known Relatives: None mentioned Group Affiliations: former partner of Googol Volt, former henchman of Illusionous Base of Operations: Parodyverse First Appearance: Mr. Epitome #14 History: He was a treasure hunter/mercenary who stumbled onto a mystic artifact in Egypt that lets him turn into living sand. Height: 6'3" Weight: 260lb Eyes: brown Hair: brown Strength Level: Superhuman in sand form, can make himself stronger by adding more sand to his mass Known Superhuman Powers: Turns himself into living sand, with all that implies (stretch, change shape, create sand blasts and sand storms, become semi-solid, get into uncomfortable places inside people's swim suits, etc) Gromm, The Living Flatulence Occupation: Horrible monster, once trapped beneath the sea in that spurious Atlantis knock-off that Banjooooo rules over. Legal Status: Well, he does actually have the mineral wealth rights to that same spurious knock-off. Other Current Aliases: What the hell is that smell? Was that you? Marital Status: Formerly married to the lovely Aroma Known Relatives: My Uncle Max Group Affiliation: The Purveyors of Peril; the Deviates; formerly a member of the Five Sensory Overloads (along with Audiocassette, Vindaloo, Camay-Girl, and Benneton Jumper) Base of Operations: Wherever the smells are thickest First Appearance: Weird Water Tales #45 History: When Banjooooo set out to find what had died under his throne room he never expected to release the terrible elemental force of smell now known as the Living Flatulence. Alone and as part of the Sensory overloads, Gromm has added his distinctive flavour to the colourful adventures of the King of the Sea Monkeys. In fact, he is the reason that Sea Monkey's actually have no noses (as a genetically bred race created by the Abhumans to guard the prison of the terrible Living Flatulence). Of course, Banjooooo didn't remember any of this retconned stuff until it's all too late. The Legion later learned that Gromm was one of six surviving Greater Deviates, the third genetic offshoot of mankind created by the Celestian Space Robots, and the only one to be free in the modern age. Height: Smells with height? Gimme a break! Strength Level: Pretty powerful, somewhere between gorgonzola and a Grateful Dead open air concert public toilet. Known Superhuman Powers: He's a huge smell. He gasses people. He's caustic. He makes your eyes burn. Don't light up cigarettes anywhere nearby if you value your eyebrows. Hacker Nine Real Name: Zachary “Zach” Zelnitz Occupation: Computer hacker, urban anarchist, student Identity: Zach is not only known to the public he is a counter-culture hero Legal Status: Immigrant from Technopolis on parole Known Relatives: He has a family back in Technopolis who have never really been mentioned. He previously dated Lindy Wilson (Falconne). Group Affiliations: The Junior Lair Legion (resigned), the Purveyors of Peril Base of Operations: Vizh’s Lighthouse, Willingham First Appearance: Premiere #34 History: Zach comes from Technopolis, the futuristic city on a distant parallel Earth where he was a “science villain”, a rogue committing acts of anarchy to counter the rigid controlled society he grew up in. He clashed with a number of Technopolis’ defenders including Premiere and Clockwork Soldier and was eventually imprisoned due for thought correction. During the war between Technopolis and Earth he turned on the villainous Red Watchman and joined with Earth’s defenders. He stayed on Earth when Technopolis returned home. After a romance with Falcon’s little sister Lindy Wilson he conquered the world through computer system over-rides to impress her and again later to find her when she was missing. He was captured by the Lair Legion and joined the Junior training programme. He eventually dropped out in favour of an internship with the Hooded Hood. Height: 5’9” Weight: 120lb weakling Eyes: Brown Hair: Brown and greasy Strength Level: Nerd Known Superhuman Powers: H9 has the ability to hack computers. He’s really, really, annoyingly good at it. It is unclear whether this is due to special abilities or simply to skill at computer programming. He often uses an advanced datapad terminal to connect to other systems. Mary Prankstar Real Name: Mary Louise Pfeffercorn (Married Name: Mary Louise Prankston.) Occupation: Clinical Psychologist with private practice, also takes court appointed cases Identity: Ms Pferrercorn is not publicly known to be Mary Prankstar (I'm also fine with Mary Prankster) Legal Status: Wanted escaped felon in costume identity; works with the police and courts in civilian identity. Known Relatives: Husband (let's call him "Bob") apparently ran off with floozies. Unknown whether she's divorced or widowed. Group Affiliations: The Purveyors of Peril, the "William Shatner DVD club" Base of Operations: Herringcarp Asylum, Stroker’s Isle, and likely has an apartment in the Parodiopolis/Gothametropolis area. First Appearance: Unofficial: Undesireables. Official: Strong Suit - Interlude History: Mary was a cheerful, upbeat doormat who was constantly being used by the people around her. After she put her husband Bob through school he ran off with another woman when he was supposed to start his career and finance her psychiatric training. Something snapped inside Mary. She was found and tormented by the Crying Clown to make her obsess over Visionary. Now whenever she feels she is being treated unfairly she loses all impulse control and things escalate quickly. She only barely manages by saving most of it up for when she's Mary Prankstar, thus allowing Ms. Pfeffercorn to get along being merely "odd". Finally captured by Mr. Epitome after a series of rampages involving wanton destruction of property, she was incarcerated at Herringcarp until being selected by Dr. Valium for a trial study in the effects of obedience brands on the mentally ill. In the ensuing public scandal following the truth becoming known about the brands and who was behind them, all records of the study and of Ms. Pfeffercorn vanished (along with, it would seem, Dr. Valium), allowing her to resume a life under her old identity. Whatever the basis for her obsession with Visionary, the needs behind it are filled by being his therapist and having him come to her to share his most intimate secrets. For a fuller account of Mary’s history by Visionary, go here Height: Let's say 5' 5" Weight: Maybe 127 lbs. Eyes: Brown Hair: Light brown (If you want an actress for reference, Vizh could easily seen her being played by Amy Acker, aka Fred from "Angel") Strength Level: Human Known Superhuman Powers: Agile without any real combat training. She could probably handle the average mugger in hand-to-hand, but any athletic talent lies more in evasion than offence. She usually has a bag of tricks, and maybe one or two up her sleeve, that she uses to keep the man from bringing her down. She is often armed with a oversized concussive popgun that can fire a variety of projectiles. She's not really out to hurt anyone though (despite her issues,) so there's probably nothing particularly dangerous in her repertoire. Razor Ballerina Real Name: Mindy Kovskoski Occupation: Former ballerina Identity: Mindy was a world-renowned dancer before her… accident. Her new role as Razor ballerina is now known to the public. Legal Status: Escaped convicted criminal Known Relatives: Well, there are all the little people in a town you’ve probably never even heard of. Group Affiliation: The Purveyors of Peril Base of Operations: Herringcarp Asylum on Stroker’s Island First Appearance: Untold Tales #72 History: Mindy was an innocent and beautiful rising ballet star until she was kidnapped from her home and subjected to the ministrations of the terrible Fearwalker for around seven months. What remained afterwards was the fearsome and soulless Razor Ballerina. Height: 5’8" Weight: 120lbs Eyes: Green Hair: Dark brown Strength Level: Human Known Superhuman Powers: The Razor Ballerina fights by generating razor-sharp blades from beneath her flesh and hurling them at her opponents with amazing dexterity. She can cut through any substance by touching it, making her a bad person to grab hold of. She has been given a specific resistance to being affected by probability alteration, being able to cut to the most likely result in any case. UltiMAX-TremeMan Real Name: Martin Lillard (PsychoAcidPervGirl! might call him "Marvin," since her own nickname is "Wendy." Yes, she's making a Super Friends reference). Occupation: Undergraduate college student, University of Washington, Seattle (the same as CrazySugarFreakBoy!). Legal Status: Sealed juvenile criminal record, no criminal record as an adult. Known Relatives: Single mother, absentee father. Group Affiliations: Zone: Zero (standard-issue super-secret military-industrial conspiracy, that's one part Weapon X, when they wiped Wolverine's memory and infused his skeleton with Adamantium, and one part Torchwood, when they detained the Doctor and added his TARDIS to their collection). Base of Operations: University of Washington, Seattle. First Appearance: [Kirk says] You tell me. You're the one who's going to be writing it. [IW says] Untold Tales #302 History: Martin Lillard, childhood friend of Dreamcatcher Kokopelli Foxglove, was approached by Zone: Zero with the opportunity to become UltiMAX-TremeMan. The current head of Zone: Zero is its former sworn enemy, Hannibal M. Murdock, the 1980s-era Agent of Chaos known as the InsaneCaffeineRevengeSoldier!, who was always all about the Chaos of Destruction. As such, Hannibal was none too pleased when the latest Agent of Chaos proved himself to be a champion of the Chaos of Creation, so he recruited Martin with the intent of remaking him into (literally) "Ultimate" version of CrazySugarFreakBoy! The Sucrose-Fuelled Sociopath Formula that was used to turn Martin into UltiMAX-TremeMan was an attempt to recreate the Sucrose-Fuelled Sociopath Formula that turned Hannibal into the InsaneCaffeineRevengeSoldier!, but because Martin isn't a true Agent of Chaos, it's not working quite as well, since there are some side-effects (see below). Age: An indeterminate amount of time more than 21 years old (the same as CrazySugarFreakBoy!). Height: Approximately five feet, five inches (the same as CrazySugarFreakBoy!). Weight: Approximately 150 pounds (the same as CrazySugarFreakBoy!). Eyes: Gunmetal gray (matches the gunmetal gray in his costume). Hair: Rust red (matches the rust red in his costume). Skin: Chalk white (contrasts the slate black in his costume). Known Superhuman Powers: The Sucrose-Fuelled Sociopath Formula allows UltiMAX-TremeMan to emulate, perhaps even exceed, the strength, speed, stamina, agility, etc. of CrazySugarFreakBoy! To maintain those powers, UltiMAX-TremeMan requires a near-constant consumption of sugar and caffeine, as well as continuous doses of the Sucrose-Fuelled Sociopath Formula itself. In his own way, UltiMAX-TremeMan is more of an addict than CrazySugarFreakBoy! and PsychoAcidPervGirl! combined. Ultraninja Real Name: Unknown Occupation: Assassin and spy Identity: Unknown Legal Status: Illegal immigrant from the Technoverse, formerly on parole with Terminus Team Group Affiliations: Purveyors of Peril, formerly Red Watchman’s science villains, formerly Badripoor Consortium, formerly Terminus Team Base of Operations: Herringcarp Asylum, Stroker’s Island First Appearance: Premiere #41 History: Trained since childhood by the Black Monks of Dar-Hap-Shet on the alternate Earth of the Technoverse, Ultraninja first came to notoriety after slaying them all then slaughtering science heroes Tangent Man and Psiwraith. She was eventually captured by Clockwork Soldier and Paradise Lady and implanted with an obedience chip to control her. After the Red Watchman’s rebellion she aided him in his war with the heroes of Earth and later escaped to join Count Armageddon in Badripoor. After capture by the Lair Legion she escaped from parole with the Terminus Team and was recruited to the Purveyors of Peril. Height: 5’6” Weight: 110lb Eyes: Purple Hair: Black Strength Level: Fit human Known Superhuman Powers: Ultraninja has all the abilities of a comic-book ninja. She can hide in the shadows and slip into places extremely well. She knows how to use sais and shuriken, often poisoned. She has ways of hiding from electronic sensors and advanced metahuman senses. She has resisted psionic control. She is a top-class hand-to-hand fighter. Voodoo Vicaress Real Name: LeVeau M’Tumbe Occupation: Houngan or Mambo or something like that. Bad voodoo person. Identity: Publicly known; she’s the latest in a long family line of Voodoo Vicars Legal Status: Citizen of Haiti, convicted criminal paroled to Terminus Team Known Relatives: Josiah M’Tumbe (Voodoo Vicar), uncle, deceased; Jebdallah M’Tumbe (Voodoo Vicar), grandfather, deceased Group Affiliations: The Purveyors of Peril, formerly Terminus Team Base of Operations: Herringcarp Asylum, Stroker’s Island, and Black Lagoon Swamp, New Orleans First Appearance: Untold Tales #213 History: The M’Tumbe clan have been doing bad things with zombies and poison snakes and scorpions for centuries. Jebdallah M’Tumbe got himself shot by Sir Mumphrey Wilton in World War II. Josiah repeatedly clashed with De Brown Streak. The latest inheritor of the mantle is LeVeau, a dark-skinned beauty who puts the fetish in fetish stick. Height: 5’8” Weight: 120lbs Eyes: Black Hair: Black and long Known Superhuman Powers: LeVeau can do all the usual voodoo stuff with pins and dolls and zombies and evil spirits. She’s lethal with a chicken in her hand. Wyrmfood Real Name: Tina Drummond Occupation: Professional supervillain Identity: Tina’s identity as Wyrmbait was publicly known. Her new identity is not yet known. Legal Status: Citizen of the U.S. not wanted for any crimes Known Relatives: Brother Donny Drummond (Wyrmlad), deceased Group Affiliations: Purveyors of Peril, formerly New Battlers Base of Operations: Herringcarp Asylum, Stroker’s Island, and the cellars beneath the ruined Willow nightclub First Appearance: Untold Tales #5 History: Tina and Donny Drummond accepted a deal from the Hooded Hood to receive sidekick powers to annoy Fin Fang Foom during the cowled crime czar’s “Sidekick Day” gambit. As Wyrmbait and Wyrmlad the pair joined the cutting edge teen supergang the New Battlers. During the recent Graduation exercises organised by the Order of the Observing Eye the New Battlers attempted to murder all opposition under contract to Baroness von Zemo. In combat with the Junior Lair Legion Wyrmlad (then calling himself Lounge Lizard) was killed. Fashion Accessory (Samantha Bonnington) used her powers to peel off Wyrmbait’s skin, disfiguring and crippling the girl who had tormented her younger years in the New Battlers. The Baroness retrieved Tina’s ruined body and had her restored to health, although her disfigurements – and hatred for Fashion Accessory – remain. Height: 5’11” Weight: 175lb Eyes: Red and multi-faceted Hair: None Appearance: Livid scorched-red reptilian flesh over a half-human half-dragon body including sharp talons, a barbed tail, and ragged bat-wings. Strength Level: Strong enough to pound through steel but not quite as strong as, say, Mr Epitome. Known Superhuman Powers: Strength, endurance, flight, fire-breath, razor-sharp talons, enhanced senses, hypnosis *** Thanks to Visionary, Shrike, and CSFB! for input on their characters. Vizh’s full notes on Mary Prankstar’s history: It is generally believed that Mary was driven insane by the Crying Clown and made to obsess over Visionary. Those who knew her personally could testify that she was a cheerful, upbeat doormat who was constantly being used by the people around her. Brought up to "put on a happy face" no matter what her troubles, she had problems with confrontation. Authority figures bullied her into submission, other students took advantage of her, and neighbors had no regard for her peace or her property. After putting Bob through school, he ran off with another woman when he was supposed to start his career and finance her psychiatric training. Eventually, after years and years of sublimating anger at all the injustices thrust upon her, something snapped inside. (This might still have been prodded along by the Crying Clown who saw she was wound to the breaking point.) Now, whenever she feels she is being treated unfairly, she loses all impulse control and things escalate quickly. It's not an act, or something purposefully done to anger opponents, she literally can't stop herself and so is unable to function normally in society. She only barely manages by saving most of it up for when she's Mary Prankstar, thus allowing Ms. Pfeffercorn to get along being merely "odd". I figure her first arrest came after being told she had one too many items for the "10 items or less" lane at the grocery store. After a lengthy and increasingly agitated rant about how it was wrong for red grapes and green grapes to be segregated into two separate items just because of skin color, security was called and an altercation took place where Ms. Pfeffercorn determined that the cashier's face weighed 17lbs, albeit this might not have been completely accurate as she pushing his head down onto the UPC scanner at the time. Later, she would return to the scene after hours as Mary Prankstar, seal the building, and flood the entire store with grape juice and other grape related products, including a tanker full of cheap wine hijacked on it's way to a bottling (okay, boxing) facility. When the manager opened the store the next morning, the resulting wave of fermented juice washed him a clear half block down Steranko Avenue. This date is still celebrated as a holiday among the hobo population of the city. Finally captured by Mr. Epitome after a series of rampages involving wanton destruction of property, she was incarcerated at Herringcarp until being selected by Dr. Valium for a trial study in the effects of obedience brands on the mentally ill. In the ensuing public scandal following the truth becoming known about the brands and who was behind them, all records of the study and of Ms. Pfeffercorn vanished (along with, it would seem, Dr. Valium), allowing her to resume a life under her old identity. Whatever the basis for her obsession with Visionary, the needs behind it are filled by being his therapist and having him come to her to share his most intimate secrets. CrazySugarFreakBoy’s full history notes on UltiMAX-TremeMan: Martin Lillard and Dreamcatcher Kokopelli Foxglove attended high school together. They never agreed about superhero comics, but they seemed to become good friends because of these frequent and spirited arguments, rather than in spite of them, partly because they always respected one another's opinions, no matter how much each disagreed with the other's opinions, but mostly because they were both contentious contrarians, who genuinely enjoyed arguing for its own sake. Dream and Martin lost touch in large part because Dream caught a lot of lucky breaks in life that weren't available to Martin. Dream had an emotional support system at home, while Martin didn't. Dream managed to graduate from high school early, while Martin was stuck there for the full four years. And even after his girlfriend died and his grades started slipping in college, Dream still qualified for entry to Pantheon Prodigies, where he became CrazySugarFreakBoy!, while Martin is continuing to work his way through school. When Zone: Zero approached Martin with the opportunity to become UltiMAX-TremeMan, Martin had no real reason to turn down their offer, since he's had so few other opportunities available to him. The obvious comparison for the relationship of CrazySugarFreakBoy! and UltiMAX-TremeMan is the dynamic of Spider-Man versus Venom, and while there are some strong, valid parallels between those pairs of opponents, a closer model might be the deadly, and yet disquietingly amicable, antagonism between the Doctor and the Master, because much like those two Time Lords, Dream and Martin wind up kind of reverting to the emotionally adolescent state of the guys that they used to be, back when they had classes together, since they're still all about that never-ending debate. Make no mistake, UltiMAX-TremeMan will not hesitate to go after CrazySugarFreakBoy! with both fully murderous intent and completely casual indifference toward the consequences, but between the rushes, Martin and Dream might still share oddly convivial conversations, since Martin is motivated much less by actively homicidal impulses than he is by a simple sense of nihilistic ennui. The current head of Zone: Zero is its former sworn enemy, Hannibal M. Murdock, the 1980s-era Agent of Chaos known as the InsaneCaffeineRevengeSoldier!, who was always all about the Chaos of Destruction. As such, Hannibal was none too pleased when the latest Agent of Chaos proved himself to be a champion of the Chaos of Creation, so he recruited Martin with the intent of remaking him into a (literally) "Ultimate" version of CrazySugarFreakBoy! The Sucrose-Fuelled Sociopath Formula that was used to turn Martin into UltiMAX-TremeMan was an attempt to recreate the Sucrose-Fuelled Sociopath Formula that turned Hannibal into the InsaneCaffeineRevengeSoldier!, but because Martin isn't a true Agent of Chaos, it's not working quite as well, since there are some side-effects. *** Original concepts, characters, and situations copyright © 2007 reserved by Ian Watson. Other Parodyverse characters copyright © 2007 to their creators. The use of characters and situations reminiscent of other popular works do not constitute a challenge to the copyrights or trademarks of those works. The right of Ian Watson to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with the UK Copyright, Designs & Patents Act 1988. All rights reserved.

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Follow-Ups:

* A shocking revelation! - Al B. Harper - Tue Jan 30, 2007 at 07:41:15 am EST * Well, we do try to Parody contemporary comics here. - HH - Tue Jan 30, 2007 at 02:46:18 pm EST * We do? - Al B. Harper - Wed Jan 31, 2007 at 06:29:38 am EST * We do. - HH - Thu Feb 01, 2007 at 02:30:38 pm EST * They should've charged it as Pay-Per-View...UFC ratings would've gone through the roof! - Hatman - Mon Jan 29, 2007 at 09:18:24 pm EST * Maybe if Gamona had been there to carry a sign about between the rounds. - HH - Tue Jan 30, 2007 at 02:25:56 pm EST * Looks like Mumph owes the Hood five ... whatever-those-are, in Ing-Land Monopoly Money. :) [Spoilers] - CrazySugarFreakBoy! - Sun Jan 28, 2007 at 11:03:07 pm EST * You're thinking of pounds sterling. They're worth 1.96 of those little dollars of yours. [Spoilers] - HH - Mon Jan 29, 2007 at 11:38:44 am EST * Part 3 comments! [Spoilers] - Anime Jason - Sun Jan 28, 2007 at 02:46:30 pm EST * Part 3 responses [Spoilers] - HH - Sun Jan 28, 2007 at 04:43:46 pm EST * Scary commentary. [Spoilers] - Anime Jason - Sun Jan 28, 2007 at 07:45:36 pm EST * Re: Scary commentary. [Spoilers] - HH - Mon Jan 29, 2007 at 11:30:14 am EST * Re: Scary commentary. [Spoilers] - Anime Jason - Mon Jan 29, 2007 at 12:07:23 pm EST * Re: Scary commentary. [Spoilers] - HH - Mon Jan 29, 2007 at 07:29:52 pm EST * Re: Scary commentary. [Spoilers] - Anime Jason - Mon Jan 29, 2007 at 10:13:42 pm EST * Yuki and Trickshot could probably annoy anyone. (no text) [Spoilers] - HH - Tue Jan 30, 2007 at 02:28:11 pm EST * Um... what? - ag - Sun Jan 28, 2007 at 11:57:53 am EST * You whatted? - HH - Sun Jan 28, 2007 at 12:13:03 pm EST * Could be better than whoing. [Spoilers] - ag - Sun Jan 28, 2007 at 05:48:11 pm EST * Very little is better than whoing. [Spoilers] - HH - Mon Jan 29, 2007 at 11:15:29 am EST * Treking used to be fun. Warsing and Leaping and Sliding are all done. I can still Eurekaing and Heroes-ing but Smallvilling is very hard to do anymore. [Spoilers] - ag - Mon Jan 29, 2007 at 12:48:55 pm EST * That's a lot of action figures to fit on one shelf. (no text) - HH - Tue Jan 30, 2007 at 02:29:00 pm EST * Naw. I only buy DC and Marvel figures. I'm tempted to get those new Harry Potter ones but... - ag - Tue Jan 30, 2007 at 02:46:50 pm EST * I'm sure they'd ship them. (no text) - HH - Tue Jan 30, 2007 at 10:43:51 pm EST * I'm still deciding. It would be nice to own the trio and Ginny. (no text) - ag - Wed Jan 31, 2007 at 11:36:54 pm EST * They'll be down in price by next Christmas. (no text) - HH - Fri Feb 02, 2007 at 01:07:13 am EST * Part three comments - Rhiannon - Sun Jan 28, 2007 at 09:45:02 am EST * Re: Part three comments - HH - Sun Jan 28, 2007 at 12:15:09 pm EST * Yowza! - killer shrike - Sun Jan 28, 2007 at 09:09:18 am EST * Roll right up! - HH - Sun Jan 28, 2007 at 12:44:40 pm EST * A few more pounds and I'll be rolling everywhere - killer shrike - Sun Jan 28, 2007 at 07:28:38 pm EST * Theat saves a lot on shoe leather. - HH - Mon Jan 29, 2007 at 11:22:10 am EST * Theat saves a lot on shoe leather. - HH - Mon Jan 29, 2007 at 11:20:00 am EST * he doesn't mess about, does he? (no text) - champagne - Sat Jan 27, 2007 at 04:21:17 pm EST * He's known for meddling and complicating, and a little scheming, but not usually messing. (no text) - HH - Sat Jan 27, 2007 at 05:56:21 pm EST * Now with part 2 comments! - Anime Jason - Sat Jan 27, 2007 at 12:09:38 pm EST * Now with part 2 answers - HH - Sat Jan 27, 2007 at 01:30:08 pm EST * Fresh from the trees! [Spoilers] - Anime Jason - Sat Jan 27, 2007 at 04:50:51 pm EST * With no added preservatives. [Spoilers] - HH - Sat Jan 27, 2007 at 10:11:28 pm EST * Or flavor. [Spoilers] - Anime Jason - Sun Jan 28, 2007 at 12:29:03 am EST * Would he think "obeying" her was the best way to relate, though? (no text) [Spoilers] - HH - Sun Jan 28, 2007 at 01:29:49 pm EST * Maybe. [Spoilers] - Anime Jason - Sun Jan 28, 2007 at 07:36:11 pm EST * Maybe. [Spoilers] - HH - Mon Jan 29, 2007 at 11:31:09 am EST * Re: Maybe. [Spoilers] - Anime Jason - Mon Jan 29, 2007 at 12:05:33 pm EST * Re: Maybe. [Spoilers] - HH - Mon Jan 29, 2007 at 12:08:42 pm EST * Re: Maybe. [Spoilers] - Anime Jason - Mon Jan 29, 2007 at 10:13:12 pm EST * Re: Maybe. [Spoilers] - HH - Tue Jan 30, 2007 at 02:30:17 pm EST * Re: Maybe. [Spoilers] - Anime Jason - Tue Jan 30, 2007 at 04:44:19 pm EST * Re: Maybe. [Spoilers] - HH - Tue Jan 30, 2007 at 10:52:47 pm EST * Re: Maybe. [Spoilers] - Anime Jason - Wed Jan 31, 2007 at 01:41:09 am EST * Re: Maybe. [Spoilers] - HH - Thu Feb 01, 2007 at 02:33:23 pm EST * Re: Maybe. [Spoilers] - Anime Jason - Thu Feb 01, 2007 at 07:01:29 pm EST * Re: Maybe. [Spoilers] - HH - Fri Feb 02, 2007 at 01:08:53 am EST * Re: Maybe. [Spoilers] - Anime Jason - Fri Feb 02, 2007 at 01:52:31 pm EST * Nice catch up... [Spoilers] - ag - Sat Jan 27, 2007 at 11:34:04 am EST * Downtime for villains [Spoilers] - HH - Sat Jan 27, 2007 at 01:31:46 pm EST * Everyone needs some. [Spoilers] - ag - Sat Jan 27, 2007 at 01:59:46 pm EST * Kirk! Enquiry for you in here! (no text) [Spoilers] - HH - Sat Jan 27, 2007 at 02:13:47 pm EST * The answer is simple: You are both wrong. :) [Spoilers] - CrazySugarFreakBoy! - Sat Jan 27, 2007 at 04:08:06 pm EST * Aaaahhh! Now we know! Lui Xi has been hanging with Clogsworth! (no text) - ag - Sat Jan 27, 2007 at 06:24:06 pm EST * Wrong? You're forgetting that I'm me! (no text) [Spoilers] - HH - Sat Jan 27, 2007 at 05:59:57 pm EST * Casting List: The Purveyours of Peril - killer shrike - Sat Jan 27, 2007 at 02:54:39 am EST * Good suggestions all round! (no text) - Al B. Harper - Tue Jan 30, 2007 at 07:42:51 am EST * How can you be so right and so wrong, all at once? :) - CrazySugarFreakBoy! - Sat Jan 27, 2007 at 02:05:15 pm EST * Kirk, Exu, three lags/arms and green still? Yes or no? (no text) - ag - Sat Jan 27, 2007 at 03:39:16 pm EST * You're half right - killer shrike - Sat Jan 27, 2007 at 02:41:27 pm EST * Our interpretations still differ ... - CrazySugarFreakBoy! - Sat Jan 27, 2007 at 03:46:52 pm EST * My interpretation struggles. - HH - Sat Jan 27, 2007 at 09:41:31 pm EST * Photographic evidence required. (no text) - HH - Sat Jan 27, 2007 at 02:13:06 pm EST * Trying again, since the board seems to have mangled the first attempt... - Visionary - Sat Jan 27, 2007 at 11:47:59 am EST * You just wanted to get those ladies back for a second casting session, didn't you? - HH - Sat Jan 27, 2007 at 01:34:48 pm EST * Or a costume fitting. Whichever. - Visionary - Sat Jan 27, 2007 at 03:03:20 pm EST * There are apparently these hairdresser's jobs you can train for. (no text) - HH - Sat Jan 27, 2007 at 06:01:05 pm EST * Re: Trying again, since the board seems to have mangled the first attempt... - killer shrike - Sat Jan 27, 2007 at 12:11:17 pm EST * Trust me ... - CrazySugarFreakBoy! - Sat Jan 27, 2007 at 02:11:25 pm EST * There are some very specialist hairdressers out there. How does one get onto that career track? (no text) - HH - Sat Jan 27, 2007 at 02:15:56 pm EST * Re: Trying again, since the board seems to have mangled the first attempt... - HH - Sat Jan 27, 2007 at 01:37:37 pm EST * Well, um, casted - HH notes that some of the female case are sadly clothing-challenged - Sat Jan 27, 2007 at 05:37:39 am EST * Too much or too little? I can fix it either way - killer shrike, with Part Two comments - Sat Jan 27, 2007 at 08:12:45 am EST * It's hard to see how you could help Voodoo Vixen wear less, short of a really severe haircut. - HH - Sat Jan 27, 2007 at 01:10:25 pm EST * When do we get the rest of this chapter? (no text) - Rhiannon - Fri Jan 26, 2007 at 04:29:20 pm EST * Part two before I head off the Bradford later today (if I remember). (no text) - HH - Sat Jan 27, 2007 at 12:04:31 am EST * Watch out baddies! [Spoilers] - ag - Fri Jan 26, 2007 at 12:41:22 pm EST * And then watch out goodies! (no text) [Spoilers] - HH - Fri Jan 26, 2007 at 01:44:12 pm EST * Who's got some goodies? [Spoilers] - ag - Fri Jan 26, 2007 at 03:56:09 pm EST * Santa? [Spoilers] - HH - Sat Jan 27, 2007 at 12:03:52 am EST * Now that's interesting... [Spoilers] - Anime Jason - Fri Jan 26, 2007 at 11:00:03 am EST * We aim to interest. [Spoilers] - HH - Fri Jan 26, 2007 at 01:49:52 pm EST * That sounds a little tame. [Spoilers] - Anime Jason - Fri Jan 26, 2007 at 02:18:40 pm EST * We aim to interest quite a bit? [Spoilers] - HH - Sat Jan 27, 2007 at 12:02:49 am EST * That's only slightly better. [Spoilers] - Anime Jason - Sat Jan 27, 2007 at 02:10:55 am EST * We aim to interest a pretty large amount really? [Spoilers] - HH - Sat Jan 27, 2007 at 05:47:13 am EST * At that point it just starts to get long and complicated. [Spoilers] - Anime Jason - Sat Jan 27, 2007 at 07:46:48 am EST * We aim to interest in a significant but streamlined manner? [Spoilers] - HH - Sat Jan 27, 2007 at 01:18:15 pm EST * Streamlined? [Spoilers] - Anime Jason - Sun Jan 28, 2007 at 01:36:07 am EST * You prefer "organisationally compact"? [Spoilers] - HH with all the modern managementspeak - Sun Jan 28, 2007 at 02:08:33 pm EST * Isn't that a way of saying downsizing? [Spoilers] - Anime Jason - Sun Jan 28, 2007 at 07:34:59 pm EST * Isn't downsizing a way of saying firing people? [Spoilers] - HH - Mon Jan 29, 2007 at 11:21:37 am EST * I thought you said Chiaki was supposed to be "smart" [Spoilers] - killer shrike - Sat Jan 27, 2007 at 08:41:19 am EST * Re: I thought you said Chiaki was supposed to be "smart" [Spoilers] - HH - Sat Jan 27, 2007 at 01:27:11 pm EST * She is, but she has a different way of thinking. [Spoilers] - Anime Jason - Sat Jan 27, 2007 at 12:34:26 pm EST * Re: She is, but she has a different way of thinking. [Spoilers] - HH - Sat Jan 27, 2007 at 01:59:06 pm EST * A much different way. [Spoilers] - Anime Jason - Sat Jan 27, 2007 at 04:46:35 pm EST * Way out. [Spoilers] - HH - Sat Jan 27, 2007 at 10:09:23 pm EST * Way way out. [Spoilers] - Anime Jason - Sat Jan 27, 2007 at 11:45:58 pm EST * Way out is in these days. [Spoilers] - HH - Sun Jan 28, 2007 at 02:08:21 pm EST * I try to be fashionable. [Spoilers] - Anime Jason - Sun Jan 28, 2007 at 07:06:21 pm EST * So you had a mullet phase a few years back? [Spoilers] - HH - Mon Jan 29, 2007 at 11:28:23 am EST * Hell no. Those were never fashionable. [Spoilers] - Anime Jason - Mon Jan 29, 2007 at 12:03:15 pm EST * Flock of seagulls? [Spoilers] - HH - Mon Jan 29, 2007 at 07:28:50 pm EST * That's about it. [Spoilers] - Anime Jason - Mon Jan 29, 2007 at 10:12:40 pm EST * Re: That's about it. [Spoilers] - HH - Tue Jan 30, 2007 at 02:44:03 pm EST * Warning: Bad pun within. [Spoilers] - Anime Jason - Tue Jan 30, 2007 at 04:42:48 pm EST * Not so bad. Only 4.2 on the Shoggoth scale. [Spoilers] - HH - Tue Jan 30, 2007 at 10:51:43 pm EST * How high does the scale go? [Spoilers] - Anime Jason - Wed Jan 31, 2007 at 01:54:04 am EST * All the way [Spoilers] - HH - Thu Feb 01, 2007 at 02:35:31 pm EST * All the way where though? [Spoilers] - Anime Jason - Thu Feb 01, 2007 at 06:51:40 pm EST * All the way out there. (no text) [Spoilers] - HH - Fri Feb 02, 2007 at 01:09:17 am EST * Re: A much different way. [Spoilers] - Visionary - Sat Jan 27, 2007 at 09:30:49 pm EST * Hmm... This one sees too much. [Spoilers] - HH - Sat Jan 27, 2007 at 10:23:20 pm EST * Re: A much different way. [Spoilers] - Anime Jason - Sat Jan 27, 2007 at 09:45:48 pm EST * Re: A much different way. [Spoilers] - HH - Sat Jan 27, 2007 at 10:28:17 pm EST * Re: A much different way. [Spoilers] - Anime Jason - Sun Jan 28, 2007 at 01:39:06 am EST * Re: A much different way. [Spoilers] - HH - Sun Jan 28, 2007 at 02:10:46 pm EST * Re: A much different way. [Spoilers] - Visionary - Sat Jan 27, 2007 at 10:05:22 pm EST * What a splendid little debate this is turning out to be! [Spoilers] - HH - Sat Jan 27, 2007 at 10:32:21 pm EST * So I can live then? [Spoilers] - Visionary - Sat Jan 27, 2007 at 10:47:49 pm EST * Like I'm giving away a spoiler like that. [Spoilers] - HH - Sun Jan 28, 2007 at 01:53:43 pm EST * Re: A much different way. [Spoilers] - killer shrike - Sat Jan 27, 2007 at 08:21:45 pm EST * Re: A much different way. [Spoilers] - HH - Sat Jan 27, 2007 at 10:13:27 pm EST * Re: A much different way. [Spoilers] - killer shrike - Sun Jan 28, 2007 at 12:25:58 am EST * Cleaning up... [Spoilers] - Anime Jason - Sat Jan 27, 2007 at 09:20:40 pm EST * Re: Cleaning up... [Spoilers] - killer shrike - Sun Jan 28, 2007 at 12:18:34 am EST * Re: Cleaning up... [Spoilers] - HH - Sun Jan 28, 2007 at 02:14:04 pm EST * Re: Cleaning up... [Spoilers] - Anime Jason - Sun Jan 28, 2007 at 02:02:58 am EST * Cleaning up some more [Spoilers] - HH - Sun Jan 28, 2007 at 02:17:15 pm EST * Re: Cleaning up... [Spoilers] - HH - Sat Jan 27, 2007 at 10:17:38 pm EST * Re: Cleaning up... [Spoilers] - Anime Jason - Sun Jan 28, 2007 at 01:45:04 am EST * Cleaning up is never done [Spoilers] - HH - Sun Jan 28, 2007 at 02:20:36 pm EST * A well-fired opening salvo (no text) - killer shrike looks forward to Part Two - Fri Jan 26, 2007 at 08:13:51 am EST * *Reloads* (no text) - HH - Fri Jan 26, 2007 at 08:18:46 am EST * That's certainly a clash of egos, isn't it? - Visionary - Fri Jan 26, 2007 at 07:49:40 am EST * That seemed inevitable, really - HH - Fri Jan 26, 2007 at 08:17:53 am EST * Well, HH traveling with his own throne does kind of give it away. - Visionary - Fri Jan 26, 2007 at 12:18:07 pm EST * He finds it helps avoid confusion. - HH - Fri Jan 26, 2007 at 02:05:43 pm EST * So he has his initials carved on it then? - Visionary - Fri Jan 26, 2007 at 06:29:48 pm EST * I'm pretty sure he has. It stops it getting confused with other giant stone chairs. - HH - Sat Jan 27, 2007 at 12:14:24 am EST * Ooh... the deluxe model. I hope that thing comes with velvet pillows, or some kind of warming device for chilly days. - Visionary - Sat Jan 27, 2007 at 10:44:53 am EST * *Insert Lisa joke here* - HH - Sat Jan 27, 2007 at 02:11:02 pm EST * Oh sure, take the easy way out. - Visionary - Sat Jan 27, 2007 at 02:57:54 pm EST * Who was it who said "Always go for the easy laugh"? Some poster here? - HH - Sat Jan 27, 2007 at 10:09:41 pm EST * Ah, the golden days... back when I knew what I was doing. - Visionary - Sun Jan 28, 2007 at 10:16:04 am EST * You knew? Really? - HH - Sun Jan 28, 2007 at 01:14:31 pm EST * As far as I knew, I did. - Visionary - Sun Jan 28, 2007 at 03:57:29 pm EST * Yet you still did what you did. Interesting. - HH - Sun Jan 28, 2007 at 04:50:57 pm EST * Um... Yes. Naturally. And I'd do it again. I guess. - Visionary - Sun Jan 28, 2007 at 05:26:40 pm EST * Such is the nature of obsession - HH - Mon Jan 29, 2007 at 11:10:48 am EST * As I recall, a few of the Purveyors were disclosed as Beth's contract employees a while back. Hmmm. (no text) - J. Jonah Jerkson - Fri Jan 26, 2007 at 07:09:34 am EST * That's why these are described as version 4 of the line-up. [Spoilers] - HH - Fri Jan 26, 2007 at 07:23:41 am EST * Some interestring new stars joining the club. (no text) - ag - Thu Jan 25, 2007 at 11:29:21 pm EST * It's a while since we did a Purveyors story. They're about due to trouble the LL again. (no text) - HH notes the LL has been in better shape to cope with them though - Fri Jan 26, 2007 at 07:02:49 am EST * Parts of this were even more well-written than usual. ;) (no text) - CrazySugarFreakBoy! - Thu Jan 25, 2007 at 07:59:16 pm EST * Would those be the parts in limegreen, in your opinion? (no text) - HH - Thu Jan 25, 2007 at 08:51:05 pm EST * Wow: Kirk's and Adam's notes are a lot more thorough than mine. :) [Spoilers] - killer shrike - Thu Jan 25, 2007 at 06:49:59 pm EST * I'm lonely and like to get mail. (no text) [Spoilers] - Visionary - Thu Jan 25, 2007 at 10:25:58 pm EST * Perhaps not the best line to chat up women ever invented, but if it works... (no text) [Spoilers] - HH - Fri Jan 26, 2007 at 06:45:19 am EST * Slacker. [Spoilers] - HH - Thu Jan 25, 2007 at 08:53:27 pm EST * Yes. Yes I am. [Spoilers] - killer shrike is even wearing flannel - Fri Jan 26, 2007 at 12:19:35 am EST * Next he'll be describing his underwear. Flee! [Spoilers] - HH - Fri Jan 26, 2007 at 07:06:08 am EST * Hey, you're the one who tried to put me in lingerie. (no text) [Spoilers] - killer shrike wants to know what's up with that - Fri Jan 26, 2007 at 08:04:06 am EST * This really isn't a conversation to pursue while I'm having my lunch here. (no text) [Spoilers] - HH - Fri Jan 26, 2007 at 08:19:43 am EST * I'll likely enjoy this line-up... - Visionary - Thu Jan 25, 2007 at 06:27:41 pm EST * At least until the come after the LL. - HH - Thu Jan 25, 2007 at 08:50:49 pm EST * Some old favourites, and a few new faces of much interest. Look forward to seeing them in action. (no text) - Al B. Harper - Thu Jan 25, 2007 at 05:18:40 pm EST * Probably tomorrow. I think I'll split the chapter into three parts again. (no text) - HH - Thu Jan 25, 2007 at 08:32:47 pm EST * Noteworthy. - Messenger - Thu Jan 25, 2007 at 03:37:53 pm EST * Noted. (no text) - HH - Thu Jan 25, 2007 at 08:32:16 pm EST

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