Tales of the Parodyverse

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killer shrike
Fri Dec 24, 2004 at 09:43:36 pm EST
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An Untold Tales #200 Crossover Story Nugget
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It was beginning to smell a lot like Christmas.

Dominic Clancy inhaled and experienced the gestalt of scents: winter pine, cinnamon, roasted gooseflesh, and underlying it all the aroma of crisp, cold air pregnant with the possibility of snowfall.

From his chair he absently reached down to stroke Glory’s head. The Dog Dynamo’s tail thumped in gratitude.

“Enjoying yourself?” he asked her.

“Very much so. Though that ridiculous HoundDog continues to sniff at my private areas.”

Mr. Epitome scowled, “I asked President Hopkins to restrain his pet.”

In fact, the Exemplary Man had told the young leader of Badripoor what exactly he would do to him if Hound Dog “violated” his partner in any way, promising torments the Chain Knight would have found inventive.

Dominic looked out onto the mansion’s parapet that was opposite his room. His enhanced vision made out an ominous figure, swathed in grey, gazing far across the heath as if it was he who owned them. The Paragon of Power reached for his boots.

Glory had followed her friend’s gaze and guessed his intentions, “Is there going to be a fight?”

“No, I just wish to speak to Mr. Winkelweald.”

“I do not like him,” the young Border collie announced, “Even if he just saved Asil and Sir Mumphrey.”

Epitome slipped on the rest of his costume. He very much felt the same way as Glory about Mumphrey’s notorious guest, especially since the Hooded Hood’s act of heroism.

By the time Dominic had joined the Hood outside the snow had begun to fall. The Star Spangled Splendor noted that nary a flake seemed to land on the villain.

“Good evening,” the Cowled Crime Czar bade without turning.

“Good evening,” Epitome got right to the point, “Why have you come here, Hood?”

“That is a rather presumptuous question on your part, is it not?”

“Yes.”

The Hood shifted his gaze and took stock of the man who had interrupted his reverie, “I am here for the same reason you are. I was invited, and it would have been rude of me to decline.”

“And no other reason?” Dominic prodded, knowing full well the Master of Retcons would not lie.

He could, however, evade, “Your tone puts me in mind of our first encounter, when you swaggered into Herringcarp with your chessboard and your challenge. I wonder, when the time comes for you to desert the Lair Legion, will you ask me to wipe out their memories of you, like I had done for your family?”

The Paragon of Power kept silent.

“So? Nothing else to say? You just came out here to glower at me?” the archfiend tutted, “I had hoped you would be more entertaining company.”

“That’s all this is to you: a game. You have all this power and you’re content to taunt us, in your smug self-importance.”

“Taunting is just a fringe benefit of my role as Savior of the Parodyverse. Tell me, though, if you had my power, how would you use it?”

Dominic went through the litany of tyrants that would never be born, disasters that would never strike, and ideas that would never find root in the human consciousness. The Hooded Hood chuckled.

“You would find that new tyrants would spring up to replace the ones struck down, that from thwarted disasters opportunities of courage and ingenuity will be lost to history, and as for ensuring the stillbirth of ideas,” he grinned ominously, “that is impossible.”

“You’ve tried these things?”

Again the Hood demurred, “I’m afraid the mantle I wear would be too much of a burden for you, Mr. Clancy. You’re better suited to more mundane schemes, such as your plan to assume control of your mentor’s organization. There you might actually be able to make a difference.”

Now it was Epitome’s turn to smirk, “You’re confusing mundane with concrete, Hood. What the world will accomplish after I take on that responsibility will make your machinations seem vain and gratuitous.”

“Ah, at last you have said something of note,” the Hooded Hood replied, “Once you ascend to your rightful place you will be a welcome addition to our fraternity of villainy.”

“I won’t be joining you. I’ll be stopping you.”

The Hood countered Epitome’s vow with two of his own, “You will break some of their hearts, when your betrayal becomes obvious. And you fill others’ hearts with hate and a resolve to ruin you. Are you ready for that? Are you ready to cross swords with the Lair Legion?”

Dominic Clancy resisted every urge to reach out and crush the archvillain’s skull. Instead he set his jaw and replied in all candor, “Not yet. But I will be.”

“Splendid,” the Master of Retcons seemed satisfied, “I will watch your progress with great interest,” and he turned back to the snowy panorama before him, and said no more.



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