Tales of the Parodyverse

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killer shrike
Mon Oct 09, 2006 at 05:52:07 am EDT
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Balls Out, Part Two
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“Balls Out, Part Two”



Yuki Shiro silently handed Mr. Epitome a folded scrap of paper.

After giving the purple-haired cyborg a curious glance the Paragon of Power opened it.

“Generic Viagra?” he barked from the chair in his make-shift office deep within the bowels of Lair Mansion.

“Take it easy,” the Silicon Shamus raised her hands defensively, “it’s not what you think. He’s a guy. A supervillain. Well, ex-supervillain, maybe. His address is on the sheet, as well as his parole officer’s contact information and a list of known associates and their whereabouts.” Yuki was nothing if not thorough.

“Generic Viagra,” Dominic repeated, still not quite believing it.

“Yeah. He fought Dancer and that Alcheman guy a couple years back. His powers let him do exactly what you would think,” there was an awkward pause, “Just thought you might be interested.”

Before Dominic could reply there was a commotion at the door as a young woman in a teal colored danskin poked her head inside, “Somebody in here talking about me?” Dancer asked.

Both of her Legion teammates started, unused to failing to detect potential security breaches, “No,” they replied.

“Are you sure? Because I could have sworn I heard my name,” she leaned against the doorjamb and smiled, “Maybe something party related?”

“You are mistaken,” Dominic assured her.

“Uh, huh. So whatever it is you two are discussing in hushed, conspiratorial tones has nothing to do with myself or any possible surprise party for said self,” Dancer nodded approvingly, “Carry on, then.”

After she had left and Yuki had run a fruitless diagnostic scan on her audio receptors, she asked, “How does she do that?”

“Tip toe right up to the line of being infuriating without actually crossing it? Years of practice, I assume,” Epitome said not wholly unkindly before giving Yuki a slight smile, “I appreciate your efforts in regards to… the investigation.”

“Not a problem,” the private investigator tried to keep her tone casual, “Hope it helps.”

The Star Spangled Splendor nodded and placed the note in one of his belt pouches. As appreciative as he was towards Yuki’s efforts and discretion, however, he had no plans of following through on the lead. The Parodyverse may be an eccentric place, Dominic theorized, but he had no faith in the prospect that a metacriminal could cure him of his impotence.

*****


From across a bustling concourse of Paradopolis International Airport someone recognized El Futbolista Atomico. Not that he would have wanted it any other way.

“Oh my God, you’re Xatroc!”

The exceedingly handsome man with the corn rows and goatee glanced back to the source of the exclamation. He smiled pleasantly when he saw it was a young stewardess, who nearly hopped up and down with excitement for her discovery.

“Such flattery, to be recognized so far from home. And by so attractive a woman. What is your name, Belleza?”

“Gwen. Gwen Marshall,” the flight attendant stammered, “It’s an honor to meet you. I TiVoed every one of your matches at the World Cup.”

Xatroc took Gwen’s free hand and clasped them within both of his own. His nails were perfectly manicured, “That is wonderful to hear. I am only sorry you did not get to see me bring victory to my country.”

“Urk!” the pretty brunette gasped at the contact, “I mean, you shouldn’t be so hard on yourself. There is only so much one man can do. Even if that man is the greatest striker in the history of the western hemisphere.”

The man in the white linen suit shook his head sadly, “Perhaps, Gwen, perhaps. But I have been blessed with so much, I,” he paused, his eyes seeming to focus on some far away place, “My Tio Benji had said it best: Con gran energia, alli debe venir gran responsabilidad.”

Gwen, who had forgotten every bit of Spanish her half a semester at Shymsky Falls Community College had tried to teach her, squeezed Xartoc’s hand consolingly, “He sounds very wise.”

“Sounded,” Xatroc corrected, “He… passed. A long time ago.”

“I’m, I’m sorry.”

“Make it up to me, Gwendolyn. Come with me to the city. I have never been to Paradopolis before, but from the sky it looks to be a beautiful place. It would be good to share its offerings with one as beautiful.”

Gwendolyn Smith felt her cheeks go flush. Her job said she had thirteen minutes to be aboard Chaste Air Flight 456 to Saskatchewan. Her head said that she had an appointment Monday morning with her chiropractor that was nonrefundable without twenty four hours notice. But her heart…

“Yes. I’ll go. Thank you.”

Xatroc smiled with blindingly white teeth, “No, Belleza, thank you. Your presence will make my time here far more rewarding."

To Be Continued, perhaps even this evening, if traffic warrants it.


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