Tales of the Parodyverse

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killer shrike
Thu Jul 13, 2006 at 09:39:02 pm EDT

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A Fractured Fairy Tale
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A Fractured Fairy Tale


Previously: Opportunities


Once upon a time there was a little girl who heard voices when no one was there. Her family took her to every physician, official, and holy man in their Collective, hoping to find a cure for her ailment. All their efforts were for naught, and it appeared likely that the girl would spend the rest of her life in the lunatic asylum.

Until a tall, gaunt stranger claiming to be a teacher visited the family and told them that their precious daughter was not mad, or beset by devils. She was gifted, blessed with psychic powers. The man explained that he could teach her how to control those voices. In return she would serve her homeland.

So Nadezhda Prokofiev left her Siberian village in the care of Doctor Gregor Vassilych, and became the Mind’s Eye, the Soviet Union’s greatest weapon against their many enemies. When the USSR finally collapsed, Nadya and her mentor went into business for themselves, aiding and abetting those in opposition to “the Free World.”

To avoid capture the Mind’s Eye and Factor X chose to work behind the scenes for most of their careers, leaving other metacriminals to take the glory, and the scrutiny. It was an approach that had served them well, but the world had changed, and now the pair had decided to take a more active hand in affairs. Which was the reason the Mind’s Eye had turned her thoughts to Afghanistan, to the labyrinth, mud-walled compound of a Pushtun warlord, and one of the inhabitants within..

“Cole Hauer, we need your help.”

If the sudden appearance of an ethereal nude with flowing tresses startled the big man seated at a rickety desk chair, he gave no sign. Instead the mercenary put aside his Discman and glared at the spirit with his one good eye.

“Nadezhda Prokofiev,” he responded telepathically, “in spirit at least. Didn’t wanta subject yourself to the cold Gardez evenings, I’m gatherin’.”

Never one for conversation, the Mind’s Eye got right to the point as to why she had willed her astral form there, “Factor X is expanding the organization and is offering you a position. You would be given a full share in all profits in addition to a say in command decisions.”

“Huh,” Cole scratched his blond goatee in contemplation, “What’s the reasonin’ behind X’s sudden largesse?”

The Mind’s Eye seemed to flicker when she answered, “We are going to become an alternative to the Cartel. The first step is to recruit individuals to serve as a board of directors. After the group is established we will encourage our current clients to commit themselves more fully to the group.”

“So you plan on puttin’ the arm on them, so to speak?” Hauer smirked.

“Whatever incentives are necessary will be executed,” Nadya assured the grizzled mercenary, “Then, once a core group of subordinates is established, we will conduct a series of operations designed to cripple the law enforcement agents of the Parodyverse.”

Cole leaned back in his seat, his large frame causing the chair to creak ominously, “This sounds a lot like a ‘put together a team and attack the superheroes’ plan. That’s beneath the two of you; an’ me. So no thanks.”

“You would do well to reconsider.”

The man grimaced. He had to play this carefully, knowing, if the Mind’s Eye wished, the powerful psychic could compel him to obey by a number of means, “Look, Nadya, I’m retired from the costumed game: too high risk. Its safer dodgin’ Chinooks here in Afghanistan.

“Until the Americans learn you’re here. The international community hasn’t given up looking for you, Cole, and when they found out your location, they will redouble their efforts to hunt you down. Perhaps even sending in Mr. Epitome,” she referenced the soldier’s old sparring partner.

“I heard he’s brain damaged or somethin’,” he grunted, “Couldn’t happen to a more deserving guy.”

Nadya watched as Hauer unconsciously rubbed at the scar running down his left cheek, “Age regression.” the Russian clarified, “He has lost fifteen years of memory and experience.”

Cole Hauer understood what was going on, that the woman was attempting to persuade him with both stick and carrot, “If I agree ta this, what’s my job? Do I get a title or somethin’?”

“Tactical Adviser. You will plan and command all of the group’s field operations.”

It took the mercenary a few moments to make up his mind, but once he had Nadya didn’t give him the chance to vocalize it. The Mind’s Eye used her telekinesis to summon the one corporal object she had brought with her, the killer’s trademark skull face, complete with missing eye socket.

“You making the smart choice, Masterstroke,” she told Factor X’s first conscript as she floated him his mask, “Welcome to the winning side.”

*****


There once was a pretty young weaver who had found herself spirited away to a dangerous land of gods and monsters. For a long time she was alone in this place, until providence united her with a warrior who, with the help of his allies, rescued her. And while it would be wrong to say this story has a happy ending for the seamstress and her knight, it at least has settled into a pleasant routine.

Of course, the tale isn’t quite that simple: there are times when the damsel to be rescued does the rescuing, the noble hero hints at being not quite so, and even the friends can be less than helpful. But these ironies are what keep the story interesting.

“So, you and he and Glory makes three. In that room,” April Alice Apple mused as she stirred the melted remnants of her triple chocolate sundae, “That sounds like a bit too cozy a situation.”

From across the Bean and Donut booth Katarina Allen gave a non-committal gesture, “It’s not so bad. We don’t jockey for bathroom time; Dom and Glory don’t need to, well, their powers make it so they don’t produce… waste.”

“And yet Epitome still manages to be full of shit,” Dreamcatcher Kokopelli Foxglove quipped.

After bestowing on her boyfriend a patented “now is not the time to be cheeky” look the reubenesque redhead turned her attention back to Kat, “Still, there must be other… privacy issues that you and he have to deal with.”

The young weaver understood, and reddened slightly, “We just have to pick our spots, which maybe takes away some of the spontaneity. But I think Glory knows it’s an issue, and gives us some time to be alone.”

“You think?” the Wired Wonder cocked an eyebrow, “How come you all haven’t hugged this all out?”

CrazySugarFreakBoy’s better half answered for Katarina, “Not everyone would be comfortable having a conversation with a super intelligent dog about scheduling time to have sex with her master, Dreamy.”

“Partner,” he corrected as he swiped April’s cherry, “And why not? Kat, you know I love you: you’re like the coolest adaptation of the Lois Lane archetype ever, though really you got more in common with Captain America’s old girlfriend Bernie Rosenthal, since you’re more the bohemian nurturing artist than intrepid kung fu reporter, what with you being a seamstress and Bernie a glassblower, at least until someone, I think it was Mark Gruenwald, had the brilliant idea to make her a law student, I guess so Gru’s preferred romantic interest for Cap, the Catwoman knock off and Eighties haircut victim Diamondback, would seem less sleazy by comparison- “

“Dream, focus,” April tapped the back of his hand.

“-but the fact you guys can’t all sit down and have a open, air clearing conversation about sex is retarded. And I put the blame square on Clancy: if he were half the Alpha Male he thinks he is he would take charge of the situation.”

The slim blonde in the corduroy jumper frowned, “Dominic has been busy,” she said with some severity.

The Representation of the Forces of Chaos in the Parodyverse blinked, then blushed, then bobbed his head in a averse demonstration of concord, “Yeah, I know. Heh, in fact, Hatty and I just sent him to handle a call we got from the INS. But the guy can’t just strike his usual pose and expect all the issues of his personal life to sort themselves out. That’s not fair to you or Glory.”

“I didn’t know Dom was on a mission,” Kat noted.

CSFB! smiled, “Its no great shakes; he and G-Dog are interviewing some especially exotic illegal aliens the feds picked up in their mid-term-election-inspired dragnet,” Dream paused, “Though, really, I don’t see why Jay didn’t assign the job to Yuki Shiro; she would have been perfect for it.”

“Why’s that?” April asked.

*****


“Seven dwarves?” the Mr. Epitome watched the swarthy men currently dressed in prison orange from behind a one-way mirror, “What’s their story?”

The representative from the Immigration and Naturalization Service looked at his dossier, “They were picked up a part of a sting operation looking into the use of undocumented workers in the Seedytown Restoration Project. The agents on the scene noted the physiological anomalies in their hands and feet and classified them as non-terrestrial. They’re the ones who identified themselves as, erm, dwarves.”

The Star Spangled Splendor nodded slightly and held out a gauntleted hand for the file. After a quick speed-read he strode into the containment room with Glory at his heels.

“I thought dwarves had beards,” he said to the prisoners, who until now were seated at two sets of folding card tables, conversing in a guttural language Dominic was unfamiliar with.

“We shaved them. In order to blend in,” the one whose photo in the dossier was labeled Canny explained, “And you are?”

“Mr. Epitome. I’m part of…. the Lair Legion.”

Prurient looked up with ravenous eyes, “Hey, I heard of them! That Lisa Waltz is all over the Interweb. Just how tall is she anyway?”

“I’ll ask the questions here.”

“Oh, yeah? Who turned to stone and made you boss?” Contentious shot back angrily.

“They are all very tall to be dwarves,” Glory barked, “In EverQuest they are seldom over four feet tall. These men are well over that in height.”

“Yes, rub it in why don’t you,” Maudlin sniffed at the Dog Dynamo.

Dominic seemed surprised, “You can understand her?”

“Of course. Can’t you?” Goofus replied with equal astonishment.

Reactionary’s waved a stubby hand dismissively, “These Mundanes and their ‘liberal education.’ It’s more of a joke than the White Witch’s chastity. Why, I understood all the canine dialects by the time I was just twoseythrice.”

“Please, Reactionary, don’t be so critical of the humans; their brains are missing the contrivial and unfeasible lobes,” Enabling said with a sympathetic glance at the Man of Might.

Epitome hoped his cowl concealed his facial tic, “OK, Look, dwarves or not, you men are in this country illegally, and given the current crises we are embroiled in –“

“But we are in crisis too!” Maudlin blurted, “We are fugitives, hiding from a cruel and heinous master!”

Reactionary continued, “That is correct. Kylmalaen Cloudwalker proved himself totally unfit to lead his father’s empire. Not that that was any great surprise: what can one expect from one who fraternizes with Pookas.

“Hey! I’m part Pooka!” Contentious rose, toppling his chair in the process.

“Yes, the part of you that’s lazy, shiftless…”

“Enough,” Dominic said in a voice that made it clear even to these newly arrived immigrants that he was dead serious. He glared at Canny with his steel blue eyes, “Is it your contention that you seven… whatever, have fled your… point of origin due to the undemocratic and totalitarian nature of its government?”

Canny tugged at his bulbous nose in contemplation, “Yes,” he realized.

The American Archetype relaxed from his hardline stance, “Fine,” he looked past the one way glass to the individuals watching beyond, “Contact the United States Citizenship and United States Immigration Services. Ask them to send over a representative and seven copies of USCIS Form I-589. We’ll need these things to start the asylum process.”

“Asylum?”

“It mean ‘sanctuary’, Goofus,” Canny whispered.

“Ohhhh,” the towheaded dwarf nodded furiously, happy that things were now becoming clear, “Sanctuary! Sanctuary!!”


Next: They Might Be Giants


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