Tales of the Parodyverse

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Joshua Clement
Mon Oct 17, 2005 at 08:26:03 am EDT
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The Intermittent Adventures of De Brown Streak #25, Now With Added… Well Nothing Really. Damn.
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The Intermittent Adventures of De Brown Streak #25, Now With Added… Well Nothing Really. Damn.


The earth shakes, and not in a Saturday night date kind of way. The sky is filled with pelting ice balls, rains of frogs, and showers of blood. Hordes or locusts compete with thousands of wriggly things and swarms of gnats to eat everybody and everything in the area. Half a dozen maddened bears rampage across the scene. And none of this is as horrifying as the plague of slightly-curled up cucumber sandwiches which are assaulting our heroes as their peaceful social event becomes possessed by the Picnic of Doom!

Pricilla DuBois, Vizh’s date, DBS’ twin, and secretly the Botherhood of Evil Mutate’s Vermillion Vex: “So, Picnic of Doom, huh?”

Regret, crimson-skinned demonic temptress set to bring the downfall of the abyss’ latest hell-lord, Nats the Semi-Terrible: “Yep. The karmic echo of every bad picnic humanity has ever had to suffer through, concentrated into one place and one time. Not so much a villain as a psychic event. And he’s not even charging for his guest appearance.”

Pricilla: “And this thing was in your filofax?”

Regret: “Well, we dated for a while, but he never picked any good restaurants.”

Pricilla: “Okay. We’ll get to some more expository dialogue in a moment. For now I just want to enjoy the heroes’ suffering.”

And in the ruined clearing, the Lair Legion and their guests face off against multiple outdoor-dining menaces…

Trickshot: Ants in my pants! Aaagh! Ants in my pants alert!”

Yuki: “Do not… and I repeat this… do not take your pants off here. I said do not! Aaagh!”

Yo: “Yo is to be thinking cute-bears are not to be being so cute, and are to be regurgitating Shoggothing right now!

Shoggoth: “These things have very interesting gastric systems, you know.”

Lisa: “Uhuna, get over here! We have hives. Both kinds. And a nasty little rash, although that might have been there before. Aaakkk!!!”

Mumphrey: “But Nanny Greenwood, I don’t like jellied eels…”

Amber St Clare: “I knew it. I just knew it! A quiet social event and suddenly we’re being assaulted by flying steak knives.”

CrazySugarFreakBoy!: “Great, isn’t it? But you’re safe until they’ve covered you in special sauce. Then they go for the white meat!”

Mr Epitome: “Being… sprinkled with… John Kerry badges… Losing strength… Feeling nauseous… Seeing visions of Micheal Moore…”

Jenni Wooster: “Is this one of those kinky superhero party games?”

Trudi Wooster: “Could be. Trickshot’s taken his pants off already.”

Hatman: “Chef hat on fire! Chef hat on fire!”

Dancer: “Noooo! The washing up is coming to get me!!!!”

Librarian, on the very edge of sanity: “Jam in the pages? Jam… amongst the pages….!”

Fleabot: “You think you’re tough just because you have long hoppity legs? You locusts are always so elitist!”

Lisa’s cat: *attacks a bear*

Flapjack: “The cutlery basket is torturing me. No, don’t take it away!”

Asil: “Excuse me, but at what kind of picnic was there ever a rain of door-to-door aluminium siding salesmen?”

Hallie: “At what picnic was there ever an incoming meteor swarm? Oh, and by the way people might want to duck.”

Pricilla: “It’s a thing of beauty. No, not you Visionary.”

Vizh: “What’s going on? One minute we were handing out the wieners…”

Regret: “And the next the wieners were being handed their asses! Poetic, eh?”

Vizh looks closer at the stranger. “Wait, I remember you! You’re that red hottie that turned up and wrecked Nats’ wedding!”

Regret: “In all my red hottieness. And now I’ve brought the Picnic of Doom down on the Lair Legion. One of the Parodyverse’s most powerful psychic events is ripping them to pieces!”

Pricilla: “No, don’t try to stop her, Vizh. I’m… her hostage. Yes, that’s it. She’s holding me hostage to prevent you from interfering with her horrible plans.”

Vizh: “You fiend! Let Pricilla go, or… something.”

Pricilla: “My hero.”

Regret: “And you sleep with him voluntarily? Really?”

Visionary looks hurt. “I can’t let you get away with this, red hottie. Not now the bulldozers are moving in to roll over the Legion, and they’re all too stricken with food poisoning to get up and fight back.”

Regret: “Yes, that’s one of my favourite bits. And we haven’t even had the drive-by gang shooting. But don’t worry. One of your friends will survive that to become a grim urban vigilante.”

Dark Knight: “Hah! Well it so happens there is already a grim urban vigilante lurking in the bushes ready to pounce out and stop your evil crime spr… Hey? Am I wearing gingham and paisley? Has my costume turned to gingham and paisley?

Pricilla: “You could always change your name to the Oshkosh Knight?”

DK: “Aaaaaaaggghhhhhhh!!!” He flees into the bushes.

Messenger: “You monster! Now you face the sudden and unpredictable justice of a bullet to the skull. Although if you want to beat me within an inch of my life first so I’m nearly dead and covered in blood but still tough enough to take you down that’s okay too.”

Regret: “I think I’ll just leave you to the exploding soda bottles of horror, thanks.”

Messenger: “Exploding soda bottles don’t scare me.”

Regret: “Depends where they’re exploding, and where the fizz sprays, don’t you think, hmm?”

Messy: “Aaaaaaaaaagggghhhhhhh! But strangely satisfying too…”

Pricilla: “Has anyone ever escaped the Picnic of Doom, then?”

Regret: “A few, but it requires some very quick thinking and a lot of imagination.”

De Brown Streak: “Hey, I can think quickly! Quick is my middle name. Well, John is my middle name, but it would be quick if it wasn’t. Or maybe Love-master. Joshua John Quick Lovemaster Clement.”

Pricilla puts her hands on her hips and confronts her brother. “Josh, what are you doing here? Why aren’t you suffering with the rest of your stupid team?”

DBS: “Oh, I got attacked by the inappropriate public picnic-sex, but Uhuna and I dealt with that pretty easily. Twelve times. And then she’s gone to help others and I instinctively came over to meet the hot red-skinned chick.”

Pricilla: “The Picnic of Doom tried to take you down with inappropriate sex? Boy, he’s not that smart, is he? He should have known that wildly stupid public fornication would be no problem to you.”

Vizh: “Um, Pricilla, if you remember before we came to see the red hottie…”

Pricilla: “I’m trying to make a point here. Anything we might have endured on our journey over to Regret is between us and the mayonnaise.”

Josh: “………….”

De Brown Streak looks across at Vizh, overpowers his need to kill him – for now – and says, “Okay. This is clearly one of those episodes where we have to put aside our differences and work together to defeat the baddies and save the day.”

Pricilla: “One’s a possibly-fake man with a questionable lemon overcoat and the other’s an oversexed mutate speedster who doesn’t have the brains of a hamster, and together they fight crime?”

Vizh: “I’m real dammit. And Josh does have the brains of a hamster!”

Josh: “Thanks man, I… Hey!”

Regret: “These two are the last hope of the Lair Legion? Bwa-hah-hah-hah-hah!”

De Brown Streak: “Well, now you’ve made your error, alluring red-skinned hottie villainess, because everybody knows that when the baddie gloats and does the laugh it’s time for the heroes to turn the tables. Right Vizh?”

Vizh: “Right. Except I think the tables collapsed, trapping Lisa and Trickshot underneath. Poor Tricky!”

DBS rushes back to the Lair Mansion, grabs a book, and zooms back to hands it to Visionary. “Quick. Look up ‘picnic’ in this dictionary!”

Visionary fumbles for the P section. “Okay, I’m looking, but wouldn’t it have been quicker for you to flick to this page at super-speed?”

DBS: “There’s a hero-cred thing happening here, okay. De Brown Streak doesn’t do reference books.”

The Librarian: “Don’t get jam on that!”

Vizh reads the entry. He’s really not got to worry about his hero-cred. “Picnic: A meal eaten outdoors, as on an excursion.”

DBS: “I thought so! Hold on, guys. We’re coming to save the day!”

Flapjack: “Don’t hurry on our accounts. I’m getting forked here.”

De Brown Streak rushes to the nearest ranger hut, dismantles it in 4.9 seconds, carries it back to the picnic clearing, then reassembles it over the Lair Legion. “There! Saved!”

Regret: “Saved? How, exactly, is that saved?”

Vizh: “Simple. You heard the dictionary. By definition, a picnic’s outdoors. The Legion are indoors. So they can’t be at a picnic. So they can’t be at the Picnic of Doom.”

Pricilla: “That doesn’t make any sense at all!”

Vizh: “Hello? Parodyverse.”

And inside the hastily-erected hut, Yo has located the rather confused Picnic of Doom trying to work out where all it’s nasty events have suddenly gone to.

Yo: *pow*

Picnic of Doom: “Ouch.”

Sir Mumphrey: *pow* “Oik.”

Picnic of Doom: “Ouch.”

Hatman: *pow*

Picnic of Doom: “Ouch.”

Etc. (Repeat until no longer funny, and then as usual for a while longer)

Regret: “Damn. That’s embarrassing. I was sure a few of you would die horribly and assist Morbido’s plans of mutate conquest. Ah well.”

DBS, looking sharply at Pricilla: “Mordibo? This was a Botherhood of Evil Mutates plot?”

But just then the Picnic of Doom gets fed up of the *pow*/“Ouch” joke and explodes in a hail of abandoned camping debris, spraying his attackers with empty beer bottles and half-eaten pork pies and not-quite-tied-up diaper bags. And then he’s gone.

The Librarian: “See, this is why I don’t do social events.”

Lisa: “Where’s that Regret woman? I want to help her live up to her name!”

CSFB!: “Are you kidding? The manipulating sneaky villain archetypes always high-tail it away as soon as their nefarious plans are thwarted. She’ll be back in hell by now, cozying up to Nats.

Trickshot: “Poor Nats. Poor, poor Nats…”

CSFB!: “Yeah…”

Trickshot: “Yeah…”

Sir Mumphrey: “A miserable afternoon in the countryside. Reminds me of my childhood, dammit. Brings a tear to my eye.”

Dancer, peeling garbage from her hair: “Okay Josh, when you built this cabin why didn’t you take the extra two seconds to build a shower into it? Josh? Josh?”

Yuki: “I’m not reading him in the area. Him or Uhuna.”

Hallie: “Those two are insatiable. I swear we’re going to need to design some kind of friction-proof carpets in the Lair Mansion.”

Pricilla: “Well, wherever they’ve run off to, I hope they’re having the time they deserve…”

And with Josh and Uhuna…

Uhuna: “What just happened, Josh? Where are we?”

DBS: “I dunno. Some place with flames and the smell of burning brimstone all round us and the distant screams of people being tortured I guess. But where that is or how we got here I have no…”

DBS: “Aw hell!”

[To be continued, with complications from a special neo-spiffic flying guest star]






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