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This message Lair Legion Chronicles #10: Fe, Fi, Fo, Fum was posted by Nats presents the second tale of the somewhat new, somewhat different Lair Legion! on Sunday, January 5, 2003 at 20:52.
Imagination makes up the independence that fuels life. Stories are the product of imagination. And somewhere, those stories are given shape, true shape, and form the Parodyverse, where all the odd probabilities come together, to form a universe based on the stories that no one else wants in their universe.
Somewhere in this Parodyverse is a place where a Triumvirate of cosmic beings overlooks the stories that take place.
They consist of the Shaper of Worlds, who begins the stories; the Chronicler of Stories, who overlooks the middle and makes sure the story is carried out; and the Destroyer of Tales, who takes care of the endings.
Dark Thugos, the alternate universe counterpart of the Hooded Hood's son, who, since spiffy was retconned away from that position, still remained a mystery, was the current Destroyer of Tales.
Jury, the Shaper of Worlds, was currently off on yet another date with the Paradox Stranger, and the Chronicler was off brooding somewhere.
Dark Thugos took this free time to spy upon Earth.
"Yes..." the evil Destroyer, who had once taken over the planet, gloated out loud as he stared into the Shaper's swirling pools. “My enemies in the Lair Legion have plagued me enough before; but now, I shall learn their faults beforehand, until I can use those faults to destroy them! Hahahahah!"
One of the many ravens that lived about the place whispered something to another one. "Pffh. Typical villain."
Dark Thugos waved his arm, and the image in the pools shifted.
Lair Legion Chronicles #10
Written by Nats
Fe, Fi, Fo, Fum
The black unmarked van remained parked in a grove of trees outside of a skyscraper in the Mangatown district which doubled as an office building, and the meeting place of the heads of the separate crime cartels in Parodiopolis.
Currently, there was a bit of a festive party going on.
"Do you copy?" a voice came in over the communications systems in the back of the van.
"Loud and clear," Nats replied. He turned a few knobs and pressed some buttons, and soon the van's holographic engine kicked in, and to all outside public, there was no van; just a small grove of trees.
dull thud picked himself up out of the driver's seat and then moved over to sit in the chair next to Nats. Slipping the headphones over his ears, he then flicked a switch on the console in front of him. A TV monitor blinked on, and he observed what was on the screen.
Nats spoke into his head-mounted communicator again. "How goes it, fearless leader?"
Businessman Todd Peaches strolled throughout the highly decorated lobby of the office building, surrounded by three personal guards.
Peaches was a mobster, in charge of a small wing of the Lynchpin's mob. As he stood over by the punch, pouring a glass, he spoke into a transmitter stud in his collar.
"Haven't noted any major crime bosses," Fin Fang Foom, using his shape-shifting powers to pose as a crime boss, reported. "Still, there are enough lower bosses here to make a good bust."
"Boss?" one of his bodyguards asked him.
"I better handle this," Finny smiled, turning to his guards. "I've had a bit too much punch, boys," he told them, heading towards the bathroom.
"Having fun, Peaches?" Goldeneyed asked the tied-up-and-gagged actual mobster. G-Eyed ran his hand through the man's hair. "Hope everything's peachy-keen."
"You up?" Nats asked him, swirling around in his chair.
"Pretty much," G-Eyed nodded.
"Then hop to it, deputy," Bill Reed smirked.
Bryan Katz just glared back at him, his glowing eyes narrowing. Then he stepped out of the van through its back doors.
He looked up towards the top of the skyscraper. "Which floor?"
"Floor below penthouse," Nats answered.
"Gotcha," Goldeneyed replied, and then disappeared in a golden flash.
Fin Fang Foom, still in the body of Todd Peaches, stood over the unconscious bodies of his three guards. "Did you get all that?" he asked.
"Oh, we got that," dull thud replied.
Ziles turned visible once more, next to Finny. "Was that a little too over the top?"
"No, you took them down hard and fast," Finny told her. "You took down the cameras, right?"
"Bathroom's scrambled," the Xnylonian nodded. "Don't understand why they put cameras in bathrooms...it's so..."
"I know what you mean," Finny responded as Ziles adjusted her camera necklace.
"I'll tie them up in the stalls and join you back out there," the empath said.
"So far we've seen Spannerhead, Creaseface, Magenta St. Evil, Crack Rabbit, and the Brat," Nats noted.
"Who's the Brat?" dull thud asked. "I didn't see him in any of those files ye forced upon me."
"He's a thirteen year-old crime lord," Bill Reed replied.
"What's he got, a playground mafia or something?" thuddy half-laughed.
Nats and thud both felt several emotions invade their psyches via the team's empathic link.
~~Looks like a big player has entered the field,~~ Cressida, the telepathic tapeworm of thud's, and newest LL member, observed through her host's eyes.
"Akiko Masamune," Nats breathed. "The hostess. See her, Fin?"
The real Todd Peaches struggled with his bonds.
Goldeneyed appeared in a flash just outside the window of an office on the second-highest floor of the building.
Knowing that Ziles had already shut down the defenses in the entire building without anyone noticing, the dark costumed deputy-leader of the Lair Legion, while clinging on to the side of the building, inserted his comm-card between the window and its sill, and then pressed the on button.
Having been designed by NTU-150, the comm card exploded, popping the window open, and allowing Goldeneyed entry.
His golden eyes flashing about the room and acting as built-in flashlights for him, the hero searched around the office.
I know Akiko Masamune owns the penthouse as one of her several headquarters throughout the city, so the offices on this floor probably hold some of her files, G-Eyed thought.
Teleporting the files from inside the filing cabinet into his hand, the young hero inspected them.
A few profiles on some of the lesser bosses and cartels, he observed. Still, nothing concrete to hold down for any of the major ones.
G-Eyed heard noises in the hallway adjacent to the office he was sneaking about in.
"Sir, I'm not sure if it's a good idea..."
"I don't care. Akiko financed this get-together and I intend to actually make an appearance." Bry Katz recognized the voice of the Lynchpin.
"Say, did you hear something in there?" one of the henchmen asked another.
"Uh oh," Goldeneyed whispered.
dull thud held his head in his hand. "This is a wee bit boring," he declared. "I'd rather be listenin' to Flint Michigan and the Short Rabbits Grabbers."
Nats sighed. "I didn't know that twenty crime cartels in one room would actually have the Bee Gees playing in the background."
~~Um...thuddy?~~
"Akiko's just going about her hostess duties. Welcoming everyone, and all."
"The Brat is trying to hit on women twice his age."
"No one seems to have noticed Finny's bodyguards in the bathroom yet."
"Hey, I think I noticed...nah, that wasn't Pierson's Porter."
~~Davie?~~
"Don't they ever talk about evil plans? All Ziles has on video so far is some good feng shui."
"At least Count Fokker spiked the punch. Something may come out of that."
"I wonder if Deathspoon showed up."
"Maybe he's off somewhere with Magenta St. Evil."
~~thud, I think you may want to check on the real Mr. Peaches.~~
"Oh, he's not going anywhere, Cressy."
~~Actually, he already left,~~ Cressida warned him.
The doorknob began to turn just as Goldeneyed teleported out of the room.
"Did you see something?" a henchman remarked.
G-Eyed appeared three floors down, but in mid-air. He couldn't teleport directly to the ground without getting hurt, so he teleported down another few stories, then another, and another, slowly slowing his descent, until he teleported ten feet off the ground and fell into a bush.
"Ooof!" he grunted, picking himself up and brushing off his dark costume.
Something ran past him on the walkway.
"Who was that?" he wondered.
"So, babe, maybe we can go back to my place, and have a nice, cool glass of Mountain Dew," the Brat smiled at a 25 year-old former Playmate-turned-henchwoman. She "hmphed" and walked off.
"But wait! I have Playstation 2!" he shouted after her.
Fin Fang Foom adjusted his tie. "This is going nowhere," he said.
A voice from an invisible girl whispered to him. "All these criminals, but no way to incriminate them. Unless whatever Velcro Vixen is doing to Creaseface is against the law."
Emotions of trouble swept over them.
"What now?" Finny muttered into his transmitter.
"Uh, Fin? We got a problem," Nats reported.
The doors to the lobby burst open.
"That man is not the real me!" Todd Peaches hollered, pointing directly to Fin Fang Foom. "He's an impersonator sent here by the..."
Just then, a grove of trees smashed through the wall and came to a stop in the middle of the room.
The Bee Gees music abruptly stopped.
***
"I got it!" Nats called, flying across the Lair Mansion's living room towards the foyer and front door. After disengaging the mansion's outer defenses, which only seemed to work on welcomed guests, and not disgruntled super-villains, he opened the door.
He was greeted by an overly passionate kiss on the mouth. A foreign tongue danced with his, and then the beautiful auburn-haired girl in the tight sweater and too-short skirt removed herself from him. Nats struggled to catch his breath.
"I'm Ruby," she smiled at him, as she looked past him into the rest of the mansion. "The Lair Legion's new administrator." Nats almost remembered Finny mentioning that they’d be getting a replacement secretary in place of Troia215, who’d become queen of the Amazons.
Bill Reed forgot his own name for a moment. "Um...hi," he replied sheepishly. "I'm, uh, Nats. You can call me Bill. Welcome to the...uh..." She was buxom enough to distract him for another few seconds.
Ruby pushed past him and walked out of the foyer, into the room beyond it. A desk sat there, surrounded by filing cabinets, cluttered with massive piles of papers, a desk calendar, and three phones.
"That's your desk," Nats told her as he walked up from behind. "This is where visitors greet you when they enter the door, and where you answer phone calls and schedule meetings and file papers and stuff." He remembered those duties because they were all of the ones Troia215 forced him to do for her when she didn't feel like it. "But you'll probably want a tour of the mansion first, so I'll..."
She was looking past him again.
"What?" he asked.
"I'll field this one, Bill," Whitney Darkness, the Sorceress, said, laying her hand on his shoulder as she strolled over. "After all, he is my cousin."
"I...see."
"Hiya, Whit," Ruby Weaver smiled. "Long time no see. Is CSFB! here?"
"Afraid not, cuz," she answered. "Now why don't I show you around?"
As Ruby began walking off into the living room, Whitney turned back to Nats. "Watch out, Bill," she said. "Ruby's a lot sly and slicker than she appears to be. She's got a bit of a crush on Dream…or did, anyway… and is...kind of a nympho. But she's only eighteen. So don't go thinking..."
"I won't," he nodded. "I'm not really the thinking type."
But as the two young women walked off, Bill Reed couldn't do anything but grin.
Penny Christopolous arched high in the air once more, and then landed gently by the side of the pool. "Ahh, it's a beautiful spring day, don't you think?" the winged woman also known as Pegasus, formerly-evil member of the Scourge and now full-fledged Lair Legionnaire asked her fellow newbie dull thud, who was dressed in a Hawaiian shirt and bathing trunks.
thud nodded. "I guess I was wrong about the perks of being a Legionnaire..." he commented.
~~But you're not the Legionnaire,~~ his telepathic tapeworm named Cressida told him. ~~I am. Remember?~~
"Yeah yeah," he muttered, sipping a Pepsi. He sat on the edge of the pool with his legs in the water.
Pegasus's wings folded inward and morphed into her back, in order to assume her true human form, which took away all her powers except immortality, for she was a cosmic being, and agent of the Constellation. "Of course, darling," she said to thud, sitting down in the hot tub, crossing her legs, and then picking up her Long Island iced tea.
dull thud picked himself up out of the pool and ambled over to where Dancer was working on her tan. She was lying face-down on the beach chair, her bare back receiving the sun's rays. Her bikini top hung from the top of the chair.
"Oh, hi, thuddy," she smiled.
"Er...hello," he greeted in a shy manner.
"Mind rubbing some lotion on my back?" she asked.
"Uh...sure," thud complied, picking up the bottle of sun-tan lotion. His hand shook as he held it. When he tried to pour some out, it squirted all over the place. "Er..."
Pegasus had used this time to climb out of the Jacuzzi. "thud, my dear, you may never understand the ways of women." She then dove gracefully into the pool, and did not come up for a seemingly long time. Her bikini top followed her by several seconds.
"Oops," she blushed. "Mind getting it for me, thud, dear?"
dull thud made several squeaking noises before deciding to go back in the mansion.
"I can't believe we botched it so bad," Fin Fang Foom grumbled, sitting in the dark in his office.
"It didn't turn out *that* horrible," Ziles assured him. "We did get out of there before they found out we were the Lair Legion."
"I guess it was a good thing Bry clobbered Peaches from behind," the dragon realized. "And we did get some semi-incriminating files of some lower crime bosses, and maybe we can trace them back to the higher-ups..."
"I'm still not so sure, though," the Xnylonian exile replied. "Why would Akiko Masamune leave incriminating files practically out in the open?"
"Maybe she resented so many crime bosses and cartels in Parodiopolis."
"Maybe she's taking a stronger hold? Branching out from Mangatown?" Ziles suggested.
"Possibly," the Makluan said.
"You've got to admit there were funny looks on their faces when the grove of trees burst into the room," the empath smiled.
"You enjoy your work, don't you?"
"I find the good in many things," she stated, staring into his eyes.
"Uh...Ziles?"
She lay on his desk and leaned forward, her face inches away from his.
"Did you ever think," she began, "that maybe we...should've done it that night?"
"What are you talking about?"
"You know...the night we had to sleep together to save the world."
"But we didn't," the dragon reassured himself. "And the world got saved anyway. So everything turned out fine..."
She licked her lips, as she moved her legs back and forth behind her. "Or did it...?"
Finny suddenly didn't know what to do with his hands as he broke into a cold sweat. The only thought in his mind was that the Bad Thing was evil.
"Um..." he mumbled, desperately trying to change the subject. "So what's CSFB! doing again?"
Ziles seemed to be back to normal as she got off his desk. "He said he still had some business to handle in Seattle," she responded.
***
Dreamcatcher Kokopelli Foxglove stumbled into his off-campus apartment in a bit of a stupor. “Da na na na na na na na…tequila…” he sang drunkenly, waving around his bottle of tequila. “Poor shlubs thought I couldn’t drink with the besht of ‘em…heh. Drank ‘em under every table there…” He dropped the bottle and collapsed on the couch. “Now, for a nice hangover tomorrow…uggh…”
He heard a shuffling and a rustling from behind.
“’Lo? Anybody there?” the young man known as CrazySugarFreakBoy! called out, getting back up. He rubbed his eyes.
“Listen, I don’t put up with intruders. Don’t make me get my yo-yo or silly-string or…whatnot…”
“Don’t worry, Dream, it’s just me,” said a familiar voice from the kitchenette.
Dream turned on the light, and found his fellow Legionnaire Trickshot standing there making coffee.
“Oh, there’s the light switch,” stated the irritating archer. “Couldn’t find it after I climbed in through the window.”
“Carl? What are you doing here?” he asked.
“Just wanted to stop by to chat. Here, take some coffee. You’ll need it.”
“You’re not the kinda guy for midnight social hour,” Dream said. “Is something up? Is Seattle under attack? Rape Ape in town? Ninjas? Do we need to deliver butt-kicking’s?”
“Nah,” Carl Bastion shook his head. “There’s something else at stake that’s a lot more important than beating up ninjas.”
“What? What’s wrong?”
“And, if we don’t get this matter settled, something could happen to the LL. Something bad.”
***
"...and this concludes our spectacular tour of the Lair Mansion," Sorceress concluded, as both she and Ruby ended up back in front of the administrator's desk. "And remember, you'll be staying in the room next to mine," Whitney reminded her. "But you may want to watch out, because some times Jay and I get a little...well...loud."
"Right," Ruby muttered, rolling her eyes. "So you want me to shuffle the papers, organize the files, and answer the phones?"
"Yes," Sorcy nodded.
"So shouldn't the phones be ringing? I figured this place would be busy..."
"Oh, we unplugged those days ago. No one felt like answering them."
"I see..." Sorceress's younger cousin said.
"So, you can, uh, get to work then."
"Yeah..."
As her cousin and fellow witch walked off, Ruby brushed a pile of papers and forms into the large trash can next to her desk. Then she decided to take a break by journeying back to the living room.
Al B. Harper studied the console in front of him, examining its slight nuances, including its user-friendliness as well as compatibility for different situations.
Then he put down his Xbox and went to continue work on the updated Lairjet.
"So how's it going?" he asked Amy Racecar, the team's mechanic.
"Pretty decent," the redheaded young woman dressed in overalls and an oil-stained tee shirt replied from under the plane. "Working on modding another Lairjet, y'know, after doing some repairs on the Lairvan. Sheesh. Lairvan. Whose idea *was* that?"
"Probably Nats's," the team's new scientist and technician answered, handing her a wrench. "Or Finny's. He was the one that petitioned for telepathically controlled platform shoes, or something."
She tightened the bolts on a panel underneath the new and improved Lairjet and then slid out from under it. "So have you gotten the defenses up on this baby?"
"Almost," he responded, typing a few calculations into his homemade calculator. "They're on there, but not jacked in. Once I upload the main grid into it, they'll all be working. Then we'll apply the refractive coating, and...and..."
"Wow. Your brain quit on you mid-sentence."
"Very funny."
"I wasn't laughing either," she said. "Well, then what?"
"I was just...lost in your eyes," he admitted.
"That's so sweet."
"No, I mean it," he told her. "You're...I mean, you...your appearance is quite...gorgeous."
She flashed her golden smile at him. "How do you feel about Mexican?"
He gave a confused look.
"Mexican," Amy repeated. "Food. As in, a date."
"Ahh," Al B. nodded. "Yes. Food. Um...good idea."
"Yes..." she murmured. Then she didn't know what to say.
Al B. turned to his calculator again as Amy slipped under the jet.
The shadowy figure watching them from behind the convertible chuckled silently, and then disappeared in a pink flash.
"I don't like it," Jay Boaz stated. "I don't like it at all."
"Oh, come on, it's not that bad," Lisette said.
"Says you," Hatman replied.
"I think it's some of my best work," the freshly-tanned Dancer assured him.
"I didn't know you *made* costumes," the Capped Crusader declared.
"I don't," she retorted.
Hatman looked at himself in the mirror once more. He was garbed in a blue tee shirt with his 'H' logo on it, green pants, hefty hiking boots, fingerless gloves, and a backpack. "This...isn't me."
"Oh, sure it is! That cape got in the way too much, and the hatility belt was bulky. You can keep your hats in the backpack!" Sarah Shepherdson said.
"I must admit, it does look good," Amber St. Claire, the government liaison to the team, spoke.
"More cop-like," Lisette added. "And you *are* the police liaison now."
"But it's too tight!" Jay complained. "And it chafes..."
"Stop whining."
"I'm not whining, I'm complaining. As Nats can tell you, there's a clear difference..."
"What do you mean too tight?" a voice asked from behind. "I like your muscles."
Hatman whirled around to see Sorceress standing at the door, leaning against its frame.
Jay removed the backpack and tossed it onto his bed. "If you don't mind, ladies," he said to Lisette, Amber, and Dancer, "Whitney and I need to...talk."
"Right," Laurie Leyton, Goldeneyed's girlfriend, said, "If that's what you kids are calling it these days."
Whitney closed the door behind them, locking it. "So what do you want to talk to me about?"
“Whit...” he began with his back to her, peeling off his shirt and tossing it to the floor, “We're falling apart.”
"I thought your near-death experience was supposed to bring us closer together," she protested.
"It wasn't near-death. It *was* death. I got lucky."
"Jay..."
"Whitney, I know about you and Finny. I tried to ignore it, but we haven't been talking much lately, let alone much of anything else."
"Jay, I told you, I was just being a good friend, like..."
"You said that, but I can't believe it! You just..."
"I just helped lift his spirits when he was down. I just gave our leader the help he needed to keep on going."
"...but...I..."
She looked him deep in the eyes. "It's okay. I know. You jumped to conclusions based upon observations you thought were truer than words."
"Well put," Hatman complimented.
"Well, I do dabble in poetry, as well as the magic arts," she told him. "Welcome back."
He hugged her. She hugged back.
"Now, if you would mind taking your pants off too," Whitney said.
“But what can I expect from a bunch of low-rent no-account hoodlums like you? Hoodlums, yes, I mean you and your friends, your whole sex, throw ‘em in the sea for all I care, throw ‘em in and wait for the bubbles, men with your groping and spitting all groin no brain three billion of you passing around the same worn-out urge. Men! With your…sales!” shouted Buffy, dressed as the lead character in Chicago, yelling at Riley, who was dressed as a cowboy, in a presentation of Death of a Salesman inside Willow’s dream.
"I can't believe we've got the Buffy season four DVDs already," Nats proclaimed as he snacked on popcorn. "The rest of America has to wait a few months..."
"Restless, season four finale, dream episode, Death of a Salesman scene," Ruby Weaver recollected as she entered the room. Nats was sitting on the plush leather couch re-watching one of his favorite TV shows on the big screen.
"You a fan?" Bill Reed asked her.
"Somewhat," she shrugged, dropping the clipboard she had brought with her. "Oops, silly me." She bent over provocatively to pick it up.
Nats felt his eyes drift away from the television.
"Betty Grant," a voice whispered into his ear.
"Wha...?" Bill slurred, snapping out of it.
"Besides," Goldeneyed told him, plopping onto the couch, "you're too lame to get a girl like that. Pass the popcorn."
"No way!" he shot back. "I should've been deputy leader. Not you."
"Oh, please. Your powers are lame. You can fly."
"I have a stick now."
G-Eyed rolled his eyes. "Big deal. You can't even take on a villain."
"Not true. I went one-on-one with Dark Thugos."
"He punched you into the lawn before you could even hit him properly."
"Pierson's Porter and Dr. Moo."
"Baron Zemo was in your psyche at the time."
"I still fought Dr. Moo!"
"That was a robot."
"Man-Hamster."
"Your mom beat him up for you."
"Late Great Donald Blake."
"Oh, please..."
"Casket!"
"You got lucky."
"A mobster named Gold Tooth. And the Great One and his dog-man named Kujo."
"Pffh."
"Prince Maggadon."
"He killed you."
"Balefire."
"He *also* killed you."
"I beat my dad up..."
"Wha?!?"
"He was evil," Nats assured him. "And he had super-powers."
Bry just stared at him.
"Seriously! Besides, I practically took down the Purveyors of Peril by myself..."
"Yeah, but that was one time out of...what? And I'm sure there's a good reason for it. Like something boosting your powers, or..."
"Oh, come on. This coming from the guy whose main enemies are Prof. Manyarms and Dr. Norm?"
"Quiet, you."
Ruby looked around, upset that no one was still looking at her display herself.
"No, it's okay," Flapjack, the perverted hunchback that served as the LL's butler told her. "I'm still here. Keep going."
A quick-whispered incantation later, Flapjack suddenly felt very itchy in all the wrong places.
Fin Fang Foom shuffled some papers in the dark as Ziles left the room.
He called out to the shadows to see if the Dark Knight was nearby; but he wasn't.
***
The clichéd solitary light bulb swung in small arcs above the overturned circular card table, highlighting the unconscious bodies of the gang members that lay across the floor.
"Nice to see you too," Messenger nodded.
The Dark Knight melted out of the shadows. "Hello."
"Long time no see," the recently-returned-from-the-grave and wanted-for-murder vigilante said.
The grim avenger implied a nod.
"Listen, about that...uh...matter," the Postman began.
"I'll handle it," DK told him. "Give me a little time."
"Right."
"Yes."
"So...how's it going with the Legion these days?"
"I'm a reserver, mostly. Some covert ops work..."
"They don't know you're here?"
"Of course not. They try to keep track, but they don't succeed."
"Uh huh. You got...?"
"Here," the Dark Knight spoke, tossing a small bag to his companion.
"How's Hatman these days?" Messenger asked while viewing the contents of the bag. "Still on my case?"
"Whitney's distracting him."
"And how about Lisa?" Messy almost grinned. "Keeping tabs on her?"
The Dark Knight's eyes narrowed.
"Thanks for the stuff, by the way," the vigilante mentioned.
"And thanks for not killing them," DK responded, referring to the unconscious thugs.
"No problem," Messenger said. "My LL special."
However, his words were heard by no one, for the Dark Knight was gone.
***
A large crowd, attendants of which dressed in robes, was formed outside of City Hall, which had recently been rebuilt after being attacked yet again. spiffy was still interim mayor, filling in for an indefinite period of time until a more insane politician could be convinced to journey to Parodiopolis.
Cars were blocked off from going either direction as the massive crowd stood in the street and on the steps leading up to the building.
A bearded man stood in front of the crowd and raised his arms. “They are gods among men, and we should treat them as such! Those that are gifted beyond our mortal ken should be exalted upon the highest of thrones and given rule over the world! Only then will they bestow their wonderful sciences and magicks upon us so that we may live as them in a better world! We should rise up against those governments that oppress and control our gods…for they should not be denied! We are not lambs! We are wolves! Cared for by our gods, and used to help them in their path to glory! They are the Lair Legion, and we are their disciples!”
The crowd gave up a resounding roar of cheer.
“Whoa, buddy…hold on there,” a voice came from behind the bearded man.
“Eh? Who are you?” the man asked.
“I’m Detective Spiro Agnew,” the black man said, flashing a badge.
“You’re the former vice-president?”
“I’m tired of people asking me that. No, I’m not him. We just have the same name…my mother was a fan. Look, it doesn’t matter. This is my partner, Dana Montresor.”
“Like the Poe story…”
“Er, that’s right,” Dana, a young Hispanic detective, replied. “Now, may we ask who you are what you’re doing here?”
“I am Rutherford Gates, and this is my religious group. We’re setting up a peaceful demonstration. It’s our right.”
“A right to a peaceful assembly doesn’t include the right to block a busy city street,” Detective Agnew informed him. “We’re going to ask you to leave…and find somewhere else to go. Don’t you have a church somewhere?”
“You, sir, are a fool,” Gates proclaimed. “We have no church to go; one has not been built for us. We are the Church of Hero.”
“What? What are you talking about?” Agnew demanded.
“We worship the gods above us…those called super-heroes.” By now, more members of the church had joined the top of the steps with them.
“Sounds more like a cult to me,” Detective Montresor said.
“How dare you question the gods we worship!”
“They aren’t gods; they’re people, like you or me. Well, and aliens. But not gods! Except for Donar. That is to say…”
“We worship who we please; the same as you. Do not invoke actions you won’t be able to stop,” another man yelled.
“Listen, it doesn’t matter now,” Agnew told them. “Just get out of the street and go somewhere else.”
“Fine,” Gates nodded. “We shall go. But we may meet again, detectives.”
As the crowd departed, Agnew muttered to himself. “I just hope it isn’t soon.”
***
“So, what’s the big horror? Is there a traitor in the LL? A ManManHunter? Is Finny evil? Is Lisa back and if so, am I missing out on some action? ‘Cause, y’know, I could really go for some…”
“Maybe I shouldn’t have given you so much coffee,” Trickshot said to CrazySugarFreakBoy! “No, Dream, those aren’t the problems.”
“Then what is? ‘Cause you and me, I’m sure we can handle it,” CSFB! told him.
“That’s right. It’ll be you and me handling it. Because Dream, the problem is you.” Tricky stopped to sip his coffee.
“What? What’s wrong with me? I’m healthy. If it’s managing time between the LL and college and the Goofball Gauntlet…wait, it’s not the Goofball Gauntlet anymore, I keep forgetting…”
“No, that’s not the problem,” Tricky stated. “Although it could complicate things. It’s your mental health right now. You seem depressed. You’re not nearly as hyper or jumping off the walls as you normally are. Don’t forget the late nights out drinking at the bars. Finny and DK are the brooding moping ones, not you.”
“So you found out, huh?” Dreamcatcher grumbled. “Yeah…yeah, I’m not as crazy or freaky or happy as normal. So what? I’ll be fine…I’ll get back together.”
“That’s what I worry about,” the Irritating Archer responded. “Will you? You seem listless…you’ve got a college career, you’re a famous super-hero and media darling…well, that or media nightmare…but you’re everywhere. You’re a role model for a bunch of down-and-out kids. You shouldn’t be so down-and-out yourself.”
“Carl, there’s just…you don’t understand! There’s nothing I can do about it!”
“Yes you can, Dream. I think you just feel like you’re not doing much anymore. You can kick all the super-villain butt you want, but does it really make a difference? You know how you feel heroes should be. You know how the Parodyverse is. Do you really think you’re making a difference?”
“Well, I guess so. I mean, we beat the villains back, we try to make the world a better place.”
“Sure, collectively, super-heroes do, yeah. But what about CrazySugarFreakBoy!? Just him? Does he make a difference?”
“I…I don’t know anymore,” CSFB! sighed.
“You can help out there, in another way than just fighting villains. You can be a counselor for depressed kids looking for a better world. Hell, you can help reform villains…you’ve done it with the Goofball Gauntlet.”
“They’re not the Goofball Gauntlet anymore, they’re the…”
“Whatever,” Trickshot told him. “There’s lot of stuff you can do out there to help, especially as a representative of the Lair Legion. You *can* make the difference you want, and you will, dammit. They don’t call me the Irritating Archer for nothing; I’ll get on your ass about this time and again if I have to.”
“Fine. Fine, I’ll look into it,” Dream said. “I’ll do it.”
“Good,” Carl Bastion nodded. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to get going to Egypt.” He headed toward the window.
“Y’know, Tricky, we have doors in this building.”
The archer paused, and then headed for the door. “Fine, but I hope old ladies don’t call the police on me, just because I dress in purple and carry pointy objects.”
“Do you need help in Egypt?” CSFB! asked him.
“No, I can manage it by myself,” Tricky assured him. “Thanks for offering, though.”
“Hey…” the reinvigorated CrazySugarFreakBoy! smiled, “What are friends for?”
***
“Wait,” Ruby Weaver wavered. “Where does the file on Balefire go?”
“Under ‘B’,” Sorceress sighed.
“Oh, right. Then why was it under ‘L’?” the young sorceress-in-training asked.
“Troia put it there for ‘Loser with a Dumb Romanian Accent.’”
“I see.” She paused for a moment. “Whitney, do you think the guys will notice me? And how many of them are single, anyway?”
“They already notice you. I’m pretty sure it’s impossible not to. But you can’t get all the heads in the room to turn. Unless you’re Lisa. But that’s practically her super-power…”
“Do you think CSFB! will notice me?”
“Most likely. He notices anything with a pair of mammaries,” the super heroic witch told her.
“You know, that Nats guy is pretty cute…”
Sorceress burst out laughing.
“What? He is…but then, you wouldn’t notice, because you’re married…”
Whitney Darkness almost choked. “I am *not* married! I’m just in a long-term relationship. If it does progress to that level, well then, we’ll see.”
“Long-term relationship? Yeah right. Use ‘em and lose ‘em is what I say,” Ruby grinned, moving a file on Donar from ‘H’ for ‘hunk’ to ‘D’ for ‘Donar.’
“Like you’d know anything about using and losing,” Sorcy replied.
“Hey, how would you know?” Ruby retorted.
A silence followed.
“So do you really think Nats is good-looking?” Whitney laughed.
“Sure I do.”
Seconds later, the sound of Nats falling down the steps could be heard.
“Bry? You there? Bry? Hello? G-Eyed?” Fin Fang Foom called into numerous parts of the mansion. “Hmm. Monitors show he isn’t in the Eco-Room or the Zoo or the Training Room or the gym…hmm.” The dragon moved to the second floor of the building and rapped on the deputy leader’s door with a claw.
“Can I come in?” Finny asked, opened the door as he said so. “Ooo…I didn’t mean to, uh…”
Bry Katz pulled away from the embrace of his girlfriend Lisette and stood up, brushing his hair back. “Huh? Oh, uh, we were just, ah, discussing the new, um…”
“Legal stuff,” Laurie Leyton added, buttoning her shirt back up so that her underwear wasn’t visible. “Y’know, because we’re both working in Lisa’s law firm, and, uhm, he’s in charge of new business with the team, so I…”
“Er, no, I’m sorry,” the Makluan team leader babbled, “I shouldn’t have come barging in like some, some…”
“Dragon?” Pegasus laughed, walking past the room.
“Er…right…” Finny grimaced somberly.
“Uhm, anyway,” Goldeneyed said. “Something up? Something important for the team of which I have to, erm, do some deputy…thingie?”
“I was looking for both of you, actually,” Foom told them. “Something’s come up with some merchandising, and we need to sort out some legal matters about it. This is why I need you two, because you’re the deputy leader, and you’re the legal adviser.”
“Sure, sure, we’ll tag along. Anyone else going? Ziles, or--”
“What? No, no, nothing’s going on with me and Ziles,” Finny interrupted.
“Er, sure,” G-Eyed nodded. “Right. So is anyone else coming?”
“Well, I was thinking of asking thuddy, you know, to familiarize him with what the team does. And well, technically I mean Cressida.”
“Cool. Anybody else?”
Nats rubbed his sore head from taking a fall down the steps when a knocking was heard at the door.
“Finny?” Bill Reed said, opening it. “Hey! What’re you…what?”
“Hmm? Oh, nothing,” the dragon said. “I just wanted to know if you would wanna come with some of us to sort out some merchandising issues. Interested?” He kept looking at something behind the flying delivery boy standing in front of him.
“Sure I’ll come,” Bill told him. “And Finny, if you’re that interested in my posters of Liv Tyler Laetitia Casta, you can have ‘em.”
“I can have…them? Oh, you mean…right. Come on, then.” The looming Makluan blushed and then walked away.
Nats pulled his mask on and followed, chuckling.
***
Carrington in Parodiopolis was generally a business district of sorts. Some businessmen there were surprised when a gleaming black jet buzzed past them. But then again, they were new in town.
In an office in another random Carrington skyscraper, a Mr. Warren Tweedle sat at his desk making phone calls and signing contracts.
Suddenly, a jet stopped directly in front of his window.
“Mr. Tweedle?” his secretary buzzed him. “I think your five o’ clock has arrived.”
“Um, thank you, Susan,” he said in a shocked monotone voice. “Uh…show them in.”
“Thank you for seeing us, sir,” Fin Fang Foom, shrunk down to a stature of 6’5”, said to the small man behind the desk.
“Um, please call me Warren, Mr. Foom,” Tweedle smiled. “I’d, uh, shake your hand, but…”
“I understand,” said Finny. His massive paw would crush the poor guy. “Um, you probably already know Goldeneyed, our deputy leader, and Nats…this is a new member, dull thud…”
“Actually, my psychic tapeworm with the ability to transmute objects into what they rhyme with is the new member. I’m along for the ride,” thuddy grinned.
Finny continued. “…and this is Laurie Leyton, our legal adviser.”
“Charmed,” Tweedle nodded.
“Now, we’ve heard you’re producing Lair Legion merchandise,” Laurie began.
“That’s right,” Tweedle replied. “We’ve got some here.”
“Ooo! Action figures,” Nats said, picking them up. “Hey, that’s me! Neat!”
Finny sighed.
“Now, we’ve had merchandise produced of the Lair Legion before, but all of those contracts have run dry. May we ask why you’re producing our material?”
“Well, you super-heroes are very popular now, especially after that Iberian invasion.”
“Ivorean,” Finny corrected.
“Yeah, that. Anyway… The Lair Legion is really popular, so we’ve been producing toys, video games, and I’ve been in contact with a movie studio for casting production…”
“Right, but…where did you get the contracts?”
“Well, they were drawn up after our deal…”
“What deal?” Goldeneyed asked. “When did you make a deal with the Lair Legion?”
“What are you talking about?” Tweedle said. “Didn’t you hear about it? I was talking to your public relations manager…”
“Lania?” Finny blurted out.
***
“You can’t just go and make merchandising and enterprising deals behind our back! We thought this guy was doing is illegally, but no, you hand him the contracts…”
“Geez, Finny, calm down,” Lania smiled, relaxing in the hot tub. The dragon paced on the patio.
“You should at least warn us about this stuff.”
“Oh please, it was for the good of the team. And besides, I submitted the paperwork. Probably got lost in the pile. Good thing we have that new girl to sort things out…she’s a cousin of mine, I think. Ruby…”
Fin Fang Foom sighed. “We’re going to have to do something about this situation, though. We can’t constantly siphon out our images and licenses to other companies. They could stab us in the back, or…well, what if something happened?”
“Don’t worry, honey,” Lania told him. “I’ve got an idea…”
***
“…and so I’m glad to announce that, in accordance with Bautista Enterprises, the Lair Legion is introducing a brand new company to go along with its brand new line-up!” Lania declared to the crowd of media representatives. “I introduce to you…Lair Legion Enterprises!”
The End…leading to a new beginning!
Next issue: Well, I’m not really sure. Possibly ghosts and psychology. Great mix! See you then.
Nats
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