Tales of the Parodyverse

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killer shrike
Thu Feb 02, 2006 at 12:53:04 am EST
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The Adventures Of Alcheman #26, Part Three
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The Adventures of Alcheman #26 Part Three


“Vexed”



“Er, can I help you?” Hallie asked the men in pancake make-up standing in the Lair Mansion foyer. She had interrupted Flapjack’s welcome when he had referred to the smaller one as ‘Short Round.’

Snips cast a withering glance at the hunchback, “Yes. We’d like to speak to Joshua Clement, if possible.”

“Don’t refer to him by hisssh mundane nomenclatshhhure. He isssh De Brown Ssshtreak!” the big man in the torn cape demanded of his tiny doppelganger.

“Yes, well, I’m sorry, but Josh, ahm, De Brown Streak isn’t here at the moment. If you’d like to leave a message and a way to reach you I’m sure he’ll be in touch.”

Drawing himself up to his full height, the Mutate Master of Genetics introduced himself, “I am Missshter Bend Shhinisshter. I have come to offer De Brown Ssshtreak the opportunity to shherve me. Ahm, and my caushhe of mutate reparasshhions.”

“Mutate-what-now?” the pretty green woman asked.

“I’ve filed a classssh actssshion lawssshuit againsssht the esshhtate of Prishhilia Dubois on behalf of the entire mutate race for the delessshion of their mutate powerssshh,” Mr. Bend Sinister explained with pride, “And I thought De Brown Ssshtreak would be intereshhted in pledging hissh undying loyalty to me- ah, ah- my casshhe.”

Hallie eyed Sinister cautiously, “You do realize that DBS is Pricilla Dubois’s sole surviving relative? I doubt he’ll be willing to help you sue himself.”

“I’d rather hear that from him, if you don’t mind. Shnips, give the hologram our card.”

After Hallie had taken their information the two departed.

“Hey, boss, why didn’t you tell Project: Greenlight the real reason we came: to offer Clement the chance to get his powers back?” Snips asked as he struggled with his safety-belt.

“Becaussshe shhhe’s a shynthetic. And you can’t trussshht those shoulessh autonomatonsssh. Robotssh, Androidssh, Synthezoidsssh, Artifissshial Intelligenshhesh. They’re all the ssshame. No damn good. It’ssh better that we obfushcate the truth until we know we have De Sshhtreak in our corner.”

“Uh. OK,” the homunculus adjusted himself in his car-seat, “Then where to now?”

Mister Bend Sinister put the SUV in reverse and navigated his way across the bridge that led to the mainland, “Check the lissht.”

“Right,” Snips searched through the glove compartment until he found a folded up piece of legal paper, “Ooh, this one sounds promising: Bambi Bacall.”

“That’sh her human name! Ssshe is the Shuicshide Blonde, one of the mosht ruthlessh mutatesh on the planet!”

“Bambi is?” Snips asked facetiously, an action he quickly regretted when his creator’s eyes began to glow with portentously entropic energies, “Ok, ok. I’m sorry. So we’re off to find the Suicide Blonde. Think she’ll be willing to become your latest lab rat?”

Mr. Bend Sinister chuckled, “Oh, yessh. I’m counting on it.”

*****


“Remanded?” Chiaki Bushido inquired, “Why?”

The night court judge glared at the slight Asian woman who dared interrupt his gavel pounding, “What?!”

“You are keeping Miss Wooster in custody, rather than allowing her the option of posting bond until her case goes to trial. I question your ruling.”

From his bench the arraigning judge for Jenni Wooster’s arrest turned a deep shade of purple, “You? Question? Me?”

“Ixnay on the estioningquay,” Jenni’s public defender said out of the corner of his mouth. Beside him Jenni Wooster stood looking disheveled and forelorn.

Chiaki would do no such thing, “Your honor, it has been established that Miss Wooster has both a clean criminal record and strong ties to the community. And while she is being charged with felony assault it must be taken into account that the victim of this crime was not seriously injured. Given these circumstances bail would seem to be likely.”

For a long time the judge said nothing, “Who are you?” he demanded.

“I am Chiaki Bushido, Miss Wooster’s bodyguard,” the Psychic Samurai said calmly, but in reality she felt uneasy. Something was off here. The System was unbalanced.

“Well, Miss Bushido, if that is your real name, Miss Wooster is being held without bail because I’m sick and tired of these trust fund brats thinking they can flout the law. Its past time we took a stand against such arrogance.”

“So your decision had nothing to do with the fact that the victim, Constance Blott, is the daughter of munitions magnate Obadiah Blott?”

From her seat next to Chiaki Trudi Wooster gasped in realization at the insinuation. The judge didn’t seem too happy either.

“No,” he fumed.

“Ah,” Chiaki nodded noncommittally, “If that is the case, then I would like to petition the court to join Miss Wooster in, ah, incarceration. Since I failed to keep her out of her current predicament, my honor now demands that I protect her during it.”

The judge chuckled, “Heh. Sorry, but here in Paradopolis we don’t lock someone up without just cause. Even if that someone is a meddlesome little busybody.”

“I see,” there was the hiss of steel against silk and a flash of silver as Chiaki withdrew her katana she somehow managed to get passed half a dozen bailiffs and two metal detectors. In one swift stroke she lopped off the prosecuting attorney’s tie, “Would this give you just cause?”

Once the judge recovered from his shock he grinned evilly, “Yeah. That would do it,” he gestured to the court matron, “Florence? Take her away!”

As the bailiff led Chiaki to be processed she cast a sidelong glance at her charge. It was the first time Jenni had smiled since she had given Constance Blott a bloody nose.

*****


The dead don’t dream.

At least, not normally.

But as Grace O’ Mercy lay in state her mind was visited by forces beyond her control; images and sensations that could only be described as dreams.

Or, perhaps, nightmares.

Her “dark spot,” that parasitic flaw that had become part of the Night Nurse’s soul when she transformed welcomed her reverie, as it brought out emotions that sustained it:

Supremacy.

Detachment.

Elegance.

Grace.

But it was not her Christian name that was being summoned by these forces, it was a title far older, and far more appropriate.

Lady Astarte? the eldritch voice with the slight Prussian accent entreated.

"Yes... Master?"

Rise.

*****


The Space-Time Continuum split asunder, and the most dangerous Sentinoid in history was back.

“Error! Error! Chronal displacement wave has diverted Unit from Temporal Touchdown Point,” the huge crystalline machine designated MOR;ON exposited to an empty alleyway, “Searching online media for available data. Searching… Searching…”

It took the Mutate Obliterating Robot; Obtusely Nasty picoseconds to access the internet and process every scrap of information on what had happened in the world since his last visit to the Parodyverse of the past. Then it had a revelation.

MOR;ON was obsolete.

*****


Later, after school, Alcheman took up his second calling.

Michael Wooster handed the coleslaw to Holothuroidea Lad, “So what have you been able to find out about the Suicide Blonde?”

The stumpy green man manipulated his spork with great difficulty, “Not much. Her real name is Bambi Bacall. Origin unknown. Possesses super-strength, durability, and the power to psychokinetically transmute elements and compounds. Last known sighting was in the Safe, after being captured by spiffy. But she’d been freed, possibly by Peter Von Doom in connection with, uh, some company called ITC, and replaced by a robot double.”

“Good work, Spongebob,” Bendist complimented as he dug through the chicken bucket for a drumstick, “That spiel almost made you sound professional.”

“Do you have a list of known associates?” Alcheman asked.

“Yep. She was a member of the Purveyors of Peril, which was a Who’s Who of bad guys back in the day.”

“When villains were villains,” Bendist agreed with his mouth full.

“I also got rumors she might be Goldeneyed’s sister. Or something. And that she had some kind of fatal attraction thing going with Nats.”

“Now you’re just making that last part up,” the Malleable Malcontent drawled.

“Dude, what’s your problem?” Smooth Operator demanded from his seat at the kitchen table.

“We’re wasting time. That’s my problem,” Bendist gestured his chicken bone to the room above them, “Varmint’s dying. Now he and I aren’t exactly best friends, but I’ll be damned if the man croaks when we could be doing something about it.”

“Do you have any suggestions, Bendist?” Michael asked.

“Let me keep checking on my lead. Most of the scientists that worked on Varmint got reassigned to other government projects. If I can get my hands on the right one I can sweat him for information on how they got the impenitrium into his bones. With that we might be able to work backwards and find a cure.”

Alcheman sighed inwardly. Bendist was right: finding Suicide Blonde and compelling her to aid Cole was a definite longshot. Not that Bendist’s plan was a sure thing. What was certain, however, was that if they didn’t find a way to cure his blood poisoning, Varmint was a dead man. There was a knock at the front door.

“I’ll get it,” Smooth Operator announced as he wiped his greasy fingers on his tee shirt.

As the younger man went to the living room Holothuroidea Lad remembered something, “Hey, Michael, I think your sister called while I was researching online. You might want to check your voice mail and-“

“Hello, nurse!” Operator exclaimed from the other room.

There was indeed a nurse visiting, though one wouldn’t have recognized her as such.

Grace O’Mercy stalked into the house, her high-heeled boots clacking sharply across Michael’s hardwood floors, and the sigils scoured in them. Gone were the hospital scrubs and modest fleece jacket. Now she wore a floor-length black duster and a skin-tight leather catsuit with a perplexing number of buckles. There was an feral glint to her eyes that Michael had never seen before.

“Miss O’Mercy?” Michael said, clearly stunned by the woman’s transformation.

The vampire stared at the man contemptuously for a moment, before briefly losing her equilibrium. It was as if she hadn’t become accustomed in her new shoes yet, “I am Astarte, of the Clan Phantomhawk. I have come to,” she paused again, unsure of her lines, “To seek an alliance between our houses.”

“Holy cats, Mikey. You didn’t tell us your new girlfriend was into cosplay,” Bendist smirked.

“She’s not- I don’t- Miss O’Mercy, are you feeling well?” Alcheman managed to ask.

Lady Astarte folded her arms imperiously, “We have no time for dithering. If you wish to save your friend, come with me.”

“Save Varmint? How?” Alcheman went from being concerned at the young woman’s transformation to hopeful that she could make good on her promise.

“We must destroy the King of the Werewolves, and let Varmint feast upon his still beating heart,” she shrugged, “Simple, really.”

For a long time no one spoke. Finally Holothuroidea Lad broke the silence with a quip.

“That’s what I’d call alternative medicine.”


Next, Alcheman and…. Astarte have an encounter with dire consequences. Meanwhile, Bendist falls, a secret is revealed, Jenni and the Psychic Samurai spend some time in the joint, and COPE gets a new client. From the future! Alcheman #27 “Too Many Damsels (in Distress)” out next month!

Footnotes:

Suicide Blonde: From Untold Tales of the Lair Legion #75

Suicide Blonde

Real Name: Bambi Bacall
Occupation: Hedonistic international playgirl
Identity: Bambi’s activities as the Suicide Blonde are known to law enforcement agencies but no material proof has yet been found to secure a lasting conviction.
Legal Status: Recently released from the Safe after the most recent police case against her collapsed due to the disappearance of key witnesses and evidence.
Known Relatives: Bry Katz (Goldeneyed) and Derek Foreman (Exile), cousins, one of the three lovely Kumari Triplets (mother, in the future), the Fernbiote and the Celestian Madonna (grandparents, in the future)
Group Affiliation: The Purveyors of Peril; formerly an associate of Dark Thugos
Base of Operations: Herringcarp Asylum on Stroker’s Island; formerly Dark Thugos’ base in the 23rd Century
First Appearance: Untold Tales #45
History: In the 23rd Century, the three lovely Kumari triplets all became pregnant by unknown fathers on the same night and gave birth nine months later on the same day. Each child held a third of a power able to rock the Parodyverse, and the last survivor of the three would inherit it all. The other infants, who became G-Eyed and Exile, were smuggled back to the 20th century by the Order of the Observing Eye. Bambi was raised by Dark Thugos and only returned to the current timeline recently.
Height: 5’10"
Weight: 170lbs
Eyes: Green
Hair: Blonde
Strength Level: Human
Known Superhuman Powers: Just as Goldeneyed controls space and Exile controls energy, so the Suicide Blonde controls matter. She is able to transform any substance into any other substance, animate objects, create any kind of material she requires, and take control of any matter nearby. She and her cousins are all immune to each others’ powers.





More recently, SB was captured by former Legionnaire and current President of Badripoor Mark Hopkins, aka spiffy, in a story that took place last winter during the Hellraisers storyline whose name currently escapes me. She apparently was one of the villains freed by the Interdimensional Transportation Corporation circa Untold Tales #215-216 and replaced with a robot double. ITC, incidentally, is currently owned by Baroness Elizabeth Von Zemo.


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