Posted by CrazySugarFreakBoy! on November 02, 2000 at 14:45:42:
Doctor Xeno Phobia, the Extraterrestrial Enigma of the Goofball Gauntlet, was working his way through his fifth plate of cocktail wieners, quiche hors d’oeuvres, cheese slices, and veggies with Ranch dressing, when the alluring image of HALLIE, formerly the resident artificial intelligence of the Lair Legion mansion (now moved in with her teammates in the League of Regulars, but back at her old home for the duration of the Halloween party) flashed up on a nearby screen, decked out in an enticing virtual holiday costume as an Elvira lookalike. “Hate to interrupt you as you’re working your way through the buffet line, oh Galactus, Eater of Worlds,” she remarked dryly, “but Mr. Book, of Odyssey Opportunities in Seattle, is on the line for you.” After a brief bout of grumbling, Phobia momentarily set aside his food tray and punched up the incoming videophone call. Odyssey Opportunities President and CEO Mr. Book popped into view, clad in the purple tunic, green tights and skin-tone skullcap of Lex Luthor from the “Challenge of the Super Friends” cartoon made in the seventies. Phobia smirked, and sampled a carrot dipped in Roquefort as he greeted CrazySugarFreakBoy’s! employer. “Gee, Brain, what are we doing to do tonight?” Mr. Book’s teeth gritted, and a tight-lipped smile crept across his face. “Mm-hm. If you would be so king as to inform Mr. Foxglove that I will NEVER forgive him for this indignity, I would appreciate it.” Phobia chuckled, and wiped a touch of Brie off his upper lip. “Seriously, though, is there any specific reason you’ve chosen to favor me with this social call, or ... ?” Mr. Book’s tone lightened, as he prepared to cede control over the videophone to the next caller in line. “Actually, I believe that Ms. Van Horn was the one who insisted I dial up the number for the Lair Legion’s mansion in Parodiopolis, to check up on Mr. Foxglove and his accompanying entourage. So, without further ado, I shall turn this conversation over to her.” Katrina Van Horn, the Lesbian Liberator, stepped in from of the cameras as Mr. Book side-stepped out of the way. She was dressed up in the leopard-print jungle bikini outfit of Giganta, another villain frequently featured on the Super Friends animated series. “Hey, Doc. Just wanted to talk a bit with Dream. I understand the two of you had to rush out of here in a hurry, since you had the Halloween party over there to catch, but we definitely appreciated having you round for the Pantheon Prodigies children’s charity costume ball. Guess it helps having those teleporters, huh?” Phobia grinned, and shrugged nonchalantly. “I’m sure we would have found a way to attend the celebrations being held in the Sundial, even without the aid of the Janus Junctures. Dream was eagerly anticipating the opportunity to help those disadvantaged children have a happy holiday season. Probably his only complaint was the fact that he wasn’t allowed to don a disguise with all the rest of you, especially since he was the one who had thought up the idea of everyone wearing ‘Legion of Doom’ themed ensembles.” Katrina nodded, then rolled her eyes. “Yeah, well, I’m thinking that Mr. Book’s logic on that one was that all the kids wanted to see a clearly recognizable CrazySugarFreakBoy!, which would almost automatically mean him in his Silly Suit, so I can kind of see his rationale behind that one. I’ve got to hand it to Dream, though – the goofy supervillain suits do seem to be softening some of the harsher public opinions of our real-life criminal backgrounds. The reporters are being a lot friendlier now than they have been in a while.” Phobia paused in the middle of downing a can of Rocket Fuel soda to respond. “Not just the costumes. You and your fellow ex-felon teammates are much more approachable and accessible than most people tend to give you credit for, and I suspect that the press is finally starting to catch on to this fact. During the time that Dream and I were in attendance, the kids at the Sundial were very bold in approaching just about every single one of our bunch, with the possible exception of me. But then, I doubt I’m an exceptionally entertaining character to most youngsters.” Katrina shook her head. “More likely it was the fact that you were made up to look like Darkseid. Even at three feet flat, that’s got to be scary to some little ones. But yeah, I suppose you are right about how much these young’uns have been willing to interact with us. In some cases, they’ve almost been a bit too friendly. A couple of the little boys wanted to play pretend superhero battles with Roller Rocket, and nearly damaged the Captain Cold costume that she’d altered from one of her brother’s outfits, since he IS Captain Cold and all.” Phobia glanced idly over his shoulder, to check on Dream as he continued to dance with the female Green Lantern whose identity he had chosen not to speculate on for the moment. “And what else did we miss, as far as notable happenings?” Katrina bit her lip in concentration, as she summoned up the more memorable events of the evening so far. “Well, Spectrum Spectre’s Sinestro outfit is STILL all the wrong colors, but nobody has the heart to let him know, because of how sensitive he is ... you know, about the color-blindness thing and all. A few of the kids asked Armored Amphibian about his extremely realistic-looking Black Manta wetsuit, which somehow led into him breaking out one of his old war stories, from his rabble-rousing days back in the Navy. Fortunately, his underage audience had lost interest before he had a chance to get to any of the grown-up content that’s usually included in those tales of his times as a sailor.” Phobia groaned with exasperation, and pinched the bridges of what would be his noses, if he’d had any noses, between his eyes. “I don’t suppose Jujitsu Juggler managed to plug up the leak that was causing his Scarecrow suit to leave a trail of straw behind him wherever he went?” Katrina winced, and ran a hand distractedly through her short but unruly red hair. “No more than Tubby Tachyon is managing to keep all those rolls of flab safely contained beneath the Goodwill rags that he’s calling a Solomon Grundy costume. If nothing else, though, the spectacle of the Scarecrow desperately attempting to re-stuff himself before all his straw pours back out again, not to mention that of Solomon Grundy trying to pull his pants up far enough so that those standing behind him won’t be treated to the sight of an ass-crack the size of the Grand Canyon, are both proving to be sources of endless amusement for the children.” Phobia grinned at how quickly the once-new recruit to the Goofball Gauntlet was becoming accustomed to her teammates’ idiosyncrasies. “Better than Kite Knight’s predicament, I suppose. Hardly anyone who reads the Superman comic books knows or cares who the Toyman is, so I’m not surprised that almost none of the children at the party recognized him when he was dressed up as that character’s cartoon counterpart. By contrast, Ocular Occultist’s outfit as Mr. Mxyzptlk wasn’t nearly as well-constructed, but all of the attendees were able to get the joke – especially when his Conjurer’s Contact lenses allowed him to create some ‘fifth-dimensional’ magic of his own.” Katrina brushed this off casually. “At least Kite Knight didn’t mind. For that matter, neither did the kids, really, since he was still able to wow ‘em with all sorts of kite-based flying toys that he’d whipped up the night before. Besides which, pretty much everybody got upstaged by Petroleum Prankster, since he could morph from the green-skinned, lightbulb-headed version of Brainiac, into the metal skeleton one, and right back again, over and over. It was pretty trippy, even after watching it a number of times.” Phobia rested his round chin on his stubby-fingered hands. “And did Clockwork Craftsman finally emerge from his workshop to display the Riddler costume that he’d so painstakingly stitched together?” Katrina laughed, recalling the striking scene. “Better than that! He opened to doors to his repair shop, and let all the kids file in. At first, I wondered what was going on, since he’s normally quite guarded about the antiques that he keeps in there, but it turned out that he’d temporarily reconfigured the entire room to resemble one of the criminal hideout sets of the old sixties Batman TV show, complete with the Dutch camera-angled cantilevered floor! The kids got the biggest kick out of it, even though it was something of a struggle to maintain your balance while standing upright on that slanted surface. Even Marsupial Maiden, with the claws on the fingers and toes of her Cheetah costume, lost her footing more than once.” Phobia wished he could have stuck around to see it himself. “Did that one high school girl, the honor grad from Pantheon’s college prep program, ever show up? I recall Mr. Book making a big deal out of having her there, to demonstrate Odyssey’s commitment to bringing up children so that they’ll give back to the community.” Katrina’s eyes widened, as she registered to whom Phobia was referring. “Oh, you mean Gwendolyn Leslie? Yeah, she managed to drop by, finally. I guess she’d been super-busy with all sorts of other after-school activities and stuff, so it’s not like anybody could fault her for not being there sooner. Plus, she came already dressed up in a surprisingly fetching female Bizarro outfit, right down to the white skin with the blocky, hard-angled facial features. And as it so happened, she didn’t come alone, either. The Fashion Fairy also decided to pay us a visit, with the Renaissance Man in tow.” Phobia blinked in undisguised astonishment. “Truly? I thought that Sydney St. Sylvain and Leonard Day-Vincent had long since retired from the superhero scene.” Katrina stifled a yawn, her energy levels somewhat drained from having looked after so many youngsters for so many hours, and cleared her throat apologetically. “Yeah, that was the last I’d heard on the subject before tonight, too. Still, Miss St. Sylvain DOES spend a lot of her time on children’s charities, especially on behalf of little girls, so this is hardly a stretch for her – and whatever her reasons for opting to swing by, it’s not hard to imagine that she could guilt her ex-hubby into coming along for the ride. After all, I can’t conceive of why else he would agree to attend in costume as Gorilla Grodd, of all the silly characters. Heh. Have to hand it to the lady ... a dozen years after she first got into the game, and she STILL looks fine, even decked out in the Joker’s threads.” Phobia arched his hairless eyebrows, creating an inquisitive expression on his already malleable face. “Ah, yes. Speaking of which - you seemed to be getting along quite well with that one female reporter, just as Dream and I were departing. If it’s not impolite of me to ask, were you simply being courteous, or ... ?” Katrina burst briefly into giggles, and ducked her head in feigned embarrassment. “Well, if, by ‘or ... ?’, you’re including ‘or ... we’re not quite sure yet WHAT this could be’, then, yes, I’d definitely go with ‘or’ as the most accurate answer to your question. The gal was a het, of course – but then, they ALWAYS claim to be het, and ‘just curious’ – except that her marriage currently seems to be experiencing some turbulence. Her husband, who’s a recovering alcoholic to start, is also apparently in the midst of a premature midlife crisis, and is rather bent on dragging her down with him. Sounds like typical has-been ex-jock angst; you know, reliving his high school football glories, his personality reverting back to a bad caricature of his adolescent self, the standard deal. Now, I will NOT involve myself with women who wear wedding rings, and I made damned sure that there was not the least bit of ambiguity on that point. However, I also let her know that, if she winds up not being able to work things through with her sporto hubby, then she certainly knows where to find me. We traded numbers, and, well, that was pretty much that.” Phobia mulled this over, as he worked through a Ritz cracker topped with melted cheddar and smoked salmon, in a manner amusingly reminiscent of a cow chewing its cud. “One could argue that the best aspect of such a relationship is that, out of all your potential romantic involvements, this one would be the least likely to become the subject of a major journalistic expose.” Katrina burst out loud laughing, and struggled to contain her guffaws as she spoke. “Not by the Daily Bugle, at any rate! Could you imagine the headlines if they did, though? ‘I Slept With A Superhero Dyke, By Betty Brant’! Maybe it’d wake her hubby up to the fact that, just because she still calls him ‘Flash’, doesn’t mean he’s a lightning rod in bed anymore.” Phobia sighed patiently, once again finding this species’ fixation upon issues of sexuality to be slightly tedious, but maintaining a tolerant silence. The Janus had been possessed of nine entirely distinct genders, and yet, they had hardly spent any time pondering the matter, unlike these somewhat obsessive Terran primates. It’s not that he disapproved at all of such distinctly Earth-originated institutions as pornography; he simply failed to see the point, despite repeated attempts at explanations from Dream. Then again, even he conceded that all humans appeared nearly indistinguishably similar to him, although he realized and felt ashamed at the inherent racism in such a conceit. “It would seem that you and your group out there is having fun, then. Unless there’s anything else that you’d like to mention, I’ll be sure to pass your news and regards along to Dream.” “Yeah, well ... just let him know that we miss having him here, okay?” “I would suspect that he already recognizes the high regard in which you all hold him, but I shall endeavor to communicate the degree of your esteem for him nonetheless. Until we meet again, then. Take care, Katrina.” “You too, Doc. Happy Halloween.”