Tales of the Parodyverse

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Al B. Harper
Sat Jan 28, 2006 at 09:07:15 pm EST
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Al B. Harper Chapter 11: Fathers and Sons.
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These scenes take place shortly after the events in UT #250.


*****



Cody Harper, Beanni and Fly-Girl sit in the plush couches of the Lair Mansion living room. Standing around the room are several members of the mighty Lair Legion: Hatman, Trickshot, Mr Epitome and CrazySugarFreakBoy!, along with Extraordinary Endeavour Enterprises’ Miss Framlicker and Amy Aston.

“So, ya think yer the Doc’s kid, hey?” Trickshot asks Cody Harper.

The melancholy youth with piercing blue eyes shrugs. “That’s what they tell me,” he says.

“We can’t believe everything the Order say,” Hatman suggests. “Unfortunately all their records were destroyed so we can’t search their files either.”

Hallie suddenly appears in the room. “The DNA analysis is conclusive,” she says, noting the report on the screen of the holographic laptop that hovers in the air in front of her. She looks towards Cody; “Al B. Harper is your father!”

There is a clatter in the corner of the room as Miss Framlicker drops the bundle of files she is holding, then a slam of the door behind her as she leaves the room in a hurry.

An awkward silence fills the room for a moment before CSFB! bounces over to where Cody is sitting. “This is great!” he exclaims. “It’s just like when Captain Incredible found out he had a son in Tales to Infuriate #73.”

Cody raises an eyebrow at the weird wonder. “Yeah,” he says, “except my “Pa” don’t seem to give a %^&*!”


*****




Sir Mumphrey Wilton looked up from his desk at the man sitting across from him in his office. “Are you going to tell him?” he asked.

Al B. had a pained expression on his face, it took him some time to respond. “In time,” he finally answered, “why bother the boy needlessly now? Surely he has been through enough recently?”

“Chap has a right to know about his own family,” Sir Mumphrey started.

“He has a right to enjoy his childhood!” Al B. interjected. “At least, the few remaining years that are left.”

“Hurmph! He will not be able to escape the task appointed to him if he is your son.” the older man said knowingly.

“You think I don’t know that?” Al B. looked up into Sir Mumphrey’s face. “You were there, you know of the terror he will face. When the time comes he will be ready, as I was. He still has a few years before he will be called to face the curse of that damnable blood-line though.”

“Perhaps…” Sir Mumphrey paused. “The coming war with the Parody Master has shifted the pitch dramatically, old alliances are breaking up, new ones are forming. Your mother’s family may be forced to play their hand early, what?”

“Only if they find out he exists,” Al B. responded.

“Do you truly think they didn’t find out the minute you did?”

Al B. shook his head sadly, “No. Of course they would know.”

“And what of the boy’s mother?”

Al B. shrugged. “His earliest memory is of the orphanage out west, all he ever knew was that his father lived in Parodiopolis. The Order had only started to fill him in on some of what they knew about it all before we destroyed their records. They strongly hinted that he was time displaced. It seems likely I haven’t even met his mother yet at all. No, not just likely, it’s not possible otherwise. Hallie’s DNA tests confirm he is my son.”

“I could send some of the Legion out to this orphanage if you like, see what they can find?”

“No, Yuki already did that, she reported back there was nothing there, they didn’t have any clues.

“Blasted conundrum then,” Sir Mumphrey stood up and walked around to Al B.’s chair. He placed his hand on Al’s shoulder. “You should go and talk to your son.”


*****



The view of the city from this particular third-floor balcony was rather spectacular, if not somewhat eerie on account of the green glow from the nearby lighthouse.

“Visionary is considering offering you and your friends places on the new Junior Lair Legion.” Al B. proposed to his son.

“So I’ve heard,” Cody replied. “I don’t think Beanni or Fly-Girl will accept though, not with Epitome around. After all, the government has tried to dissect them both on more than one occasion. They don’t have a lot of trust.”

“Epitome isn’t the man he once was,” Al B. said, and marvelled at the fact he was defending the man. “Dancer has also said she spoke with Sarah Shepherdson and Mr Papadopolis about getting you your old job back at the Bean ‘n Donut.”

Cody paused. “ I could use the money,” he finally replied.

Al B. shifted uncomfortably, this stunted conversation really wasn’t going well. “There’s also the spare room at my place,” he said. “You’d be more than welcome to move in there.”

“Don’t feel as though you need to do me any favours.”

“It’s not… I’m not…Look, Cody, I know it can’t have been easy for you growing up alone,” Al B. started.

“I’ve done alright!” Cody replied, raising his voice. “I don’t need any favours! Don’t need your help!”

“I…I know.” Al B. replied. “But I need yours. I don’t know how anyone could possibly send their child away, back in time, but that may be a choice I have to make one day. It’s not something I could ever fathom doing. Getting to know you, seeing that you turn our alright, that may help me make that decision when the time comes. If it really is a decision I have to make.” He places something into Cody’s hand.

“What’s this?” The boy asked, holding up two pieces of paper.

“Two tickets to the next Parodiopolis Jets game,” Al B. replied. “Kinda corny, but supposedly the type of things fathers and sons do together.”

“That’s really lame,” Cody replied, but he was grinning broadly as he said it.

“We’ve got to start somewhere,” Al. B. said, also grinning. “Come on, let’s go inside and get some dinner…Yuki was cooking so there’s bound to be leftovers.”

“Yeah?” Cody asked.

“Yeah,” Al B. replied. “Everyone else is smart enough to eat out whenever she takes on the cooking chores.

He placed his arm around Cody’s shoulder and they both walked back inside the mansion.


*****



Next: Scenes that take place after The Intermittent Adventures of DBS #50 and UT #251.



Al B. Harper


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