Tales of the Parodyverse

Post By

killer shrike
Tue Oct 31, 2006 at 07:13:34 pm EST
Subject
"Balls Out," the Conclusion
[New] [Email] [Print] [RSS] [Tales of the Parodyverse]
 		Next In Thread >>

“Balls Out,” the Conclusion


The maximum security unit of Phantomhawk Memorial Hospital had cared for a wide variety of super-powered patients over its history, but not many that came with their own groupies.

“Oh, Xatroc,” Gwen Marhsall laid her head despondently on the man’s heavily restrained chest, “What have you done?”

“What I had to, darling,” The Atomic Footballer intoned.

The young woman gazed into his eyes, still swollen from his earlier beating, though the size of the bruises had reduced considerably, “But at what cost?” she asked, her voice quavering.

“My honor. My freedom,” Xatroc’s mottled lips broke into a lopsided smile, “But those are the fortunes of war, bellezera.”

“You are so brave.”

“No, Gwendolyn. To come here, even after my shameful defeat, and give me comfort, you are the one who shows courage.”

The woman in the Paradopolis Hilton bathrobe stroked Xatroc’s face, “I wish I could help more.”

“Well, my darling, there is something you could do for me…” Xatroc shifted himself in his bed in an attempt to move his shackles clear of the imperative portion of his anatomy-

“Forget it,” Mr. Epitome warned as he strode into the hospital room.

“You!” Gwen hissed at the Paragon of Power, “You were spying on us!”

Epitome only folded his arms and watched the young secretary impassively.

She continued, “Xatroc didn’t kidnap or hurt me. I went by own free will. And he showed me a, a wonderful time.”

“Good to know that while the authorities were tearing the city apart out of concern for your safety you were enjoying yourself,” Dominic observed grimly.

Before Gwen could object to the somewhat exaggerated charge Xatroc touched her sleeve, “Gwendolyn, please. It is a beautiful thing for you to come to my defense, but this is something I must do… alone.”

Gwen Marshall bit her lip fretfully.

Epitome rolled his eyes.

“I understand, darling. But if you need me, I’ll be outside.”

“Gracias.”

“You,” Xatroc jovially waggled a disapproving finger at Dominic once Gwen had left, “are very clever. To get me mad, and take me away from my game plan.”

The Man of Might shrugged, “It seemed a reasonable strategy.”

“I should not have let you anger me so. Next time, I will know better.”

Epitome scoffed, “Are you retarded? You gave me everything you had, and I still beat you like a runaway slave. Now I know all your tricks, and you are without the technology that lets you make those energy constructs-“

“The cleats? You must return those. They are property of the Argentinean government.”

“The point is,” the Exemplary Man sneered, “if there is a next time, I’ll rip your kneecaps off. You’ll be scooting around the soccer field in a wheelchair.”

The Atomic Footballer laughed, “You talk the trash very well, Senor Epitome. But we will meet again. And I will defeat you. This, I vow!”

“Right,” Epitome took his cellphone from one of his belt pouches, “If you’re done, Scarlett, I want to ask you about this,” he punched a few buttons, and the device’s hologram feature displayed the clip the Star Spangled Splendor had downloaded earlier.

It was MNN footage of a battle between Xatroc and a detachment of Avawarriors. The Atomic Footballer fought valiantly against superior numbers, knocking around the armored soldiers like tenpins. The highlight of the brawl was when Xatroc booted a ball into the barrel of an Avatank as it attempted to fire, the resulting backlash being enough to reduce the war machine to shrapnel.

“So you are a fan,” the star striker quipped once the video images fizzled out.

But Dominic wasn’t in the mood for jokes, “You’re fighting the Parody Master yourself.”

“Si, when I can. This “Parody Master”, he is a menace to the entire world and must be stopped.”

“Then you shouldn’t be wasting your time trying to fight me.”


The Atomic Footballer chuckled, “But Senor Epitome, even in times of war, when life is at its worst, a man must have time for fun. I play to win, yes, but also for the love of the game. And to get the rewards.”

“Like Miss Marshall?” Dominic inquired with a hint of a smirk.

“Heh. This is true. Xatroc is, in his heart, a very simple man.”

Epitome wanted to point out there was a considerable disparity between being ‘simple’ and ‘stupid’, but couldn’t find the energy to continue lecturing his foe.

“Just remember what I said about your kneecaps,” he grumbled before leaving.

*****


Katarina Allen sat on the stoop outside her hand-dyed cloth shop. It was cold, colder than the Louisiana transplant was accustomed to this early in the fall, so she sipped her tea and huddled herself in an over-sized, patriotically colored leather field jacket a friend had given her when they first met.

The street was filled with people. They lined both sides of the road, spectators to a long, unbroken procession of floats, marching bands, and liveried politicians. The mood was boisterous without being aggressive, the sign of community happy with the times.

She spotted Dominic as he turned onto the street. The big man carefully threaded his way through the crowd until reaching the base of the steps.

“This is nice, but beating Xatroc doesn’t really merit a parade,” he smiled.

“I think it’s for Columbus, actually,” Kat joked back.

“Oh, that guy,” Dominic climbed the steps and settled down next to the petite blonde. After a brief kiss he asked, “And how was your day?”

“Good. Once I came here and got to work.”

Dominic cocked an eyebrow, “Was there a problem at the mansion?”

“Nothing to get upset about,” she cast her boyfriend a sidelong glance, “Um, are you and Yuki working on some kind of project?”

The Paragon of Power ran his fingers through his closely cropped hair, “You could say that. I let it slip about my current, ahm, dysfunction.”

“So she’s trying to help you with it?”

“Yes. Apparently she knows people,” Dominic smiled ruefully, “How did you find out?”

Kat’s already rosy cheeks darkened, “Well, Dancer told me. But I think there may have been some miscommunication as to what everyone was really up to.”

“How so?”

“I’d rather not try to explain. It was all very Blake Edwards.”

Understanding the reference, Epitome relented, “OK then.”

“So this person Yuki knows, is it some kind of professional? A doctor? Or, uh, therapist?”

“He’s a supervillain called Generic Viagra. But I think I have figured out the source of my malady. I’ve been wasting energy worrying about things I can’t change.”

“Stress,” Katarina stated, repeating her original diagnosis.

“Yeah.”

The young woman leaned her head on Dominic’s shoulder, “What are you worrying about?”

Dominic sighed. He loathed saying this, but she deserved to know, “Our future. I don’t think… I worry that, once this latest crisis passes, and things are normal again, we will look at this relationship and realize that it’s not going to work.”

“Oh.”

“I love you, Kat. So much. On Apocalyspe, you saved all of us,” he looked into her eyes, “Even though that’s something you shouldn’t have had to do. To be willing to, to die, to help the Legion.”

Kat thought she understood, “We’ve already talked about this. I know risks come with your job, and they don’t scare me.”

“No. I don’t think about that, well, very much. You’re the strongest person I’ve ever met. And I can protect you.”

“I know you can,” she touched his thigh supportively.

“But there are other things I can’t give you, Kat. Things you deserve, like marriage, and children,” Dominic plaintively explained.

Kat seemed stunned, “What makes you think I need those things to be happy?”

Epitome stared at her levelly, “You’re telling me that whenever you’ve thought about your future, a husband and kids weren’t part of the equation?”

“OK. Point,” the young woman conceded, “But that’s in the past. Before we met.”

Dominic shook his head, “You shouldn’t have to deny your dreams, Kat, on account of me. I can’t have children. And I’m not exactly the marrying kind.”

“What does that mean? Who is the marrying kind?” Katarina inquired not unreasonably.

Epitome did not respond to the line of questioning, “So, I was… stressing out over this, instead of just enjoying our time together,” he paused, “I know this sounds like I think we’re destined to break up, but I had to say it. You should know the truth.”

Katarina Allen nodded dazedly, “Well, thank you for that.”

“I don’t want to break up, Kat.”

“I know.”

“But I’ll understand if you do,” the big man’s voice caught on the confession.

Kat closed her eyes and tried to order her thoughts, “Why don’t we just do what you said for now? Enjoy our time together and not stress about it.”

“I like that idea,” he agreed.

The Columbus Day celebration continued on. The local high school’s band marched past, playing the theme from The Great Escape, heralding the appearance of the academy’s homecoming float and its escort of their (American) football team.

“I can't remember the last time I've been to a parade,” Dominic noted, taking her hand.

Kat started slightly at the contact, but let him enclose his fingers around her own, “Me neither.”

For the rest of the afternoon they sat in silence, and watched the world go by.

The End






Posted from U.S. Company
using Microsoft Internet Explorer 6/Windows XP
[New] [Email] [Print] [RSS] [Tales of the Parodyverse]
Follow-Ups:

Echo™ v3.0 beta © 2003-2006 Powermad Software
Copyright © 2004-2006 by Mangacool Adventure