Tales of the Parodyverse

The continuing saga of the Pants Baron -- #3! Nats and Balefire wrote it, so you're gonna read it!


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Nats
Thu Oct 16, 2003 at 03:54:08 pm EDT
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The other parts are down the board...somewhere.

Pants Baron #3!
It gets weirder…
By those guys that do that thing with the stuff



"And, then he went after the rest of the Legion?" Nats asked his unlikely companion.

"Indeed, and very nearly won. Had he not left when he did, the Lair Legion would most likely have been overwhelmed," Balefire explained. "He's baiting them into something, though I'm not sure quite what."

"Right, right," Nats nodded, sitting up now and out of his cow chip. "So who are you again?"

Balefire sighed. It was taking him an extreme amount of willpower not to flay the delivery boy alive.

"Balefire, you know. The guy with the big flying castle? Attempted world takeover?"

"Oh, you were in that one commercial, right? Was it the one with the talking geese?"

"They were swans, dammit," protested the Romanian criminal supergenius who could immolate someone in fiery holocaust with blasts from his hands. "Anyway, as it seems, you are the only person I can turn to now. The Pants Baron must be stopped."

"Ma always said I would never amount to anything. Now I'm saving the world from a guy named the Pants Baron with the guy from the swan commercial. Well in your face mom!" Standing up, Nats turned to his companion. "Lead the way."

Balefire shook his head, and activated a small device on his belt.

An energy sphere surrounded them. "This should block us from being found by the Baron."

"Baron Zemo???" Nats gasped.

"No, the Pants Baron. Pay attention."

"Right," Nats nodded. "So...was it the Aflac commercial?"


With a swift elbow to Nats's lower neck, Balefire sent the flying phenomenon flying back into unconciousness.

"I'll explain it to you later," he said, picking up the limp form. Activating his aero-boots, Balefire made his way back to the stronghold.

Nats dreamed of Baked Alaska.

***

"So you got him?" A bekilted figure asked as Balefire entered the room.

"Indeed. The Pants Baron had knocked him unconscious and he landed in a cow chip."

"Are you sure he just wasn't really annoying and you knocked him unconscious?" Messenger asked.

"Mmmmmmmno," Balefire answered. "Either way, we'd best be getting our plan into motion. Where's the Dark Knight?"

With that, the dreaded avenger of the night melted out of the shadows and appeared in front of them.

"Nice skirt," complimented Balefire.

"It's not a skirt, damn it! It's a Kevlar, high impact battle-kilt."

"It has a poodle on it," Messenger replied.

"Well I can't help the decorative pattern. If it just so happens to have a poodle on it, that would be entirely coincidental."

"And the plaid?" Balefire ventured.

"Merely the representation of the Kevlar weave," the grim crime fighter replied.

"It makes you look like a Catholic schoolgirl," Messenger said.

"Look who's talking," Balefire said, pointing to Messy's own battle kilt.

"Yeah, well... at least the poodle on mine is blue. Blue is a much more manly color than purple." Messenger stated matter-of-factly.

"O.K. its not purple. That would be a dark fuchsia. Clearly different."

Balefire was polishing his royal Egyptian pharaoh skirt with a hefty dose of Armor-All. Nats was beginning to wake up.

"...mmm...Anchorage..." he mumbled. Messenger tapped him in the ribs with his foot.

"Uhh... wha? Hey, DK, what are you doing here? And Messenger. And there's Balefire. Wait, what are you guys doing with Balefire? He just tried to kill me."

Messenger and the Dark Knight looked at Balefire. "Hey, he was ranting. I had to get him quiet."

"I wasn't ranting. I was yammering. There's a clear...urk!" Balefire had rendered the young delivery boy unconscious again.

"You know, if you keep doing that, we'll never stop the insidious Pants Baron from conquering the world after he stole our trousers and defeated the LL with his Pantalunatic minions," Messy expositioned.

"What is it with you folks and expositioning? I, Myself, am partial to musing. And though your point is valid, you must admit he's quite annoying."

"Well you were the one who said we needed to get him," Messenger countered.

"Although why, I don't know," the Dark Knight stated, adjusting his battle kilt. "And why are we allying ourselves with you again? You did try to kill us. Well, me, anyway."

"Right," Balefire said. "Now how did you ever get out of my perfect trap?"

"Well... um... not quite sure actually. But it happened it assured you. On another note, you found Nats. What about you Messenger?"

"Well I found them... but, well they're kinda, odd." Messenger replied.

"Or perhaps you are the odd ones?" With that, a small monk-like man entered the room. "You are simply lost. We have found the true path, the way of the Ted."

"You're the Ted?" DK asked.

"No, unlearned one," the monk responded. "I am but a follower of the Ted."

"I told you," the postman said. Nats was waking up again.

"Meet the Bill," Messy added.

"Hey," Nats interjected. "Don't go giving away my secret ID like that just for the sake of a Bill and Ted joke."

"Well, you weren't doing much with it anyway," DK said.

"You have summoned we followers of the great and all-powerful Ted for a reason, have you not?"

"I really can't say that Nats is more annoying than this fellow," Messenger whispered to Balefire.

"I suppose we did," Balefire sighed.

The super-villain continued. "The insidious Pants Baron has stolen all the pants in the city, and possible all the world's most important pants. If he keeps doing this, he may very well conquer the world, or at least the trouser market. To stop him, we'll need help. Your help." Balefire strained hard not to knock either Nats or the Tedite unconscious.

"So long, as it does not disturb the eternal slumber of our exalted master the Ted, we aid in that which you would require our services of."

"Alright..." Messenger interrupted to give Balefire a chance to calm down. "Well, it's doubtful that the Pants Baron even expects anything from you, seeing as you Tedites seem pretty lame and never really wear pants-"

"I shall inform you that we Tedites strive to copy our master's every ways. It is his choice to remain pantsless, and thus we indulge his wishes. We wear these robes only as a measure of decency when dealing with the unbelievers."

"Um," the Dark Knight breathed. "Dare I ask who the Ted is?"

"The Ted is the one we worship. It is he whose dreamscape we inhabit; he is our creator through the wonder of his own mind."

Nats was confused. "So, let me get this straight...Balefire's evil, but he's helping us. DK and Messy are wearing poodle skirts. There's a guy who stole all our pants. And these Tedites worship some dreaming dude named Ted? ...someone knock me unconscious again."

Balefire obliged.

"I think that we need to stop all this rendering unconscious stuff," Messenger began. "Gather up as many Tedites as you can, yet un-named follower of ..., well.. Ted."

"*The* Ted!" interrupted the Tedite.

"I suppose so," Balefire agreed." Messenger, you and Dark Knight try to find out what the Pants Baron's next move is. I'll try to contact our other allies. And... I guess that the Tedites can finish filling Nats in when he wakes up.

***

"These shorts are too...too short," the Pants Baron decided. "No, I think I'll go with Captain Astounding's pants for now. With the ability to hold my arm at shoulder length for extended periods of time, I'll be nigh undefeatable!"

Whilst the Pants Baron attempted to find a pair of trousers to best compliment his face-pants, a pantalunatic entered the room.

"What is it Jim? You say that Messenger and Dark Knight are sneaking around outside the factory? Well don't tell me. Invite them in for milk and cookies."

The pantalunatic stumbled off, bumping into the walls. "Ahh," the Pants Baron commented. "Too much starch this time. Have to remember that."

Moments later, Messenger and Dark Knight found themselves being escorted into the factory by something of a butler pantalunatic.

***
A silly-looking aged man wearing overalls and a straw hat lumbered into a large room. Seated around him were many other men his age... One was dressed like a train conductor, one had an afro, one was phasing in and out of existence...

"So you finally showed up," Balefire turned to look at his newly arrived guests. Then, he looked at the live-feed from one of his observer drones stationed near the Pants Baron's stronghold. "And it's about time too. It looks like we're about to have some problems."

"Yes, my son," said one of them, dressed in bright gold. "The Council of Cross-Religion Popes is here. We've decided to review your case."

To be continued!

Next issue: Hey, don’t look at me. Something happens.






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