Tales of the Parodyverse

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CrazySugarFreakBoy!
Wed Mar 28, 2007 at 04:02:15 pm EDT
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A Lodestone of Lust: Magnetic New Management for Nearly Forgotten Foes …
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A Lodestone of Lust: Magnetic New Management for Nearly Forgotten Foes …

“Well, what a perfectly precious family affair,” chuckled Lionel, former Lord Lodestone, attracting the attention of Meggan Foxxx and Gwendolyn Leslie as they tended to Oliver Hastings. “A worn-out old whore with her junkie slut daughter and bawling bastard son.”

“How the hell did you get in here?” Meg snarled at the sweating, smiling, fat Englishman, clenching her fists and stepping forward to face him as Wendy comforted the crying Ollie.

“Through the front door, the same way as you, I should think,” Lodestone quipped, as Otomo Osamu stepped from behind him to match Meg’s movements. “But to better answer your intended question, I was invited. Herbert Garrick’s meetings here at the esteemed Lair Legion Mansion have gathered rather an impressive collection of consultants, among them myself and several other long-since safely reformed and rehabilitated practitioners of so-called ‘supervillainy.’ After all, even though those of us on his advisory panel have all been thoroughly cured of the sadly aberrant mindsets that caused us to commit our transgressions against society in the first place, our previous careers as costumed criminals could provide essential insights to be used against our currently mutual foes.”

“Yeah, that’s about a bunch of bullshit,” Wendy scoffed, as Ollie’s wails finally calmed into gentle cooing. “What, you thought someone like me wouldn’t recognize you right off? I’m PsychoAcidPervGirl!, you’re the Viceroy of Vice, and your bastard son by your side there is Origami-San, underboss of the Ass-Raping Ninjas Student Loan Collection Agency.”

“And as PsychoAcidPervGirl!, someone like you should know better than to throw stones at anyone else’s glass houses,” Lodestone chided condescendingly, as his black-clad Eurasian son tensed briefly, then busied himself with folding a piece of paper from his pocket. “Since I’ve started Entropy Entertainment, I have never been convicted of any charge that has not been overturned on appeal. Yes, I’ll grant that my relationship with Osamu has been somewhat strained, up until his latest period of incarceration, but I’m more ashamed to admit that it took the recent murder of my other son, Drugo, for me to remember how precious one’s family truly is. That’s why I lobbied to have Osamu pardoned, in exchange for his participation in the war effort against the Parody Master. After all, if even someone like PsychoAcidPervGirl! could qualify for a release and a record-scrubbing … ”

“Even when she was at her worst, my daughter was always a more decent human being than you or any of your sons could ever hope to be,” Meg literally spat.

“Oh, yes, we’re the bad men, and therefore, any misdeeds you people decide to perpetrate against us are perfectly justified,” Lodestone clucked his tongue in mock sympathy. “I don’t doubt it was precisely that sort of elitist, brutal attitude that led your garishly clad killing machine, ManMan, to execute my dear friend, Everitt Kassell, without even a pretense of due process. Of course, your lot covered for your teammate by assassinating Everitt’s character posthumously, tapping your contacts in the media and law enforcement to fabricate evidence and disseminate libel and slander against a man who had long since abandoned his role as Damnation, Scourge of Society, but it hardly helped matters when ManMan subsequently slaughtered his own comrade-in-arms, Exemplary, on the battlefield. Oh, I made sure to remind Mr. Garrick of the Elvis impersonator’s history of homicide. I suspect he took that into account when he acted on my recommendation to mandate that Ulysses Lugman be reinstated into the Globetrotting Gangbusters.”

“Tubby Tachyon?” Wendy exclaimed. “But that dude’s a douchebag!”

“That would be one way of putting it,” Lodestone nodded with obvious amusement, “although I believe the more appropriate insult would be to label him a traitor. Then again, since Mr. Lugman was carrying out Garrick’s explicit instructions, another way of putting it would be that Lugman was the only member of his team who freely and fully obeyed the orders of the federal government, which does technically make him the most reformed former supervillain of the bunch. Expel him from the program, and you call the integrity of its supposed rehabilitative function into question.”

“You’re really getting off on this, aren’t you?” Meg sneered. “Just like old times, you can’t get it up unless it’s against someone else’s will.”

“You should know, better than anyone, where my most enthusiastic proclivities lie,” Lodestone growled gravely at Meg, before affecting an air of nonchalance with Wendy. “Did you know, darling girl, that your weathered and weary mother was once one of my most shining starlets? Before her dual accumulations of age and scruples took their toll upon her ability to appeal, she was such a delightfully pliable performer, until she started expressing endless personal qualms about producing material that she perceived as either racist or misogynistic.”

“Yeah, silly me, I had a problem with black guys being cast across the board as rapist thugs, and gals of every color getting beaten bruised and bloody onscreen,” Meg scowled severely, a cold tone in her country twang. “I was also kind of a prude when I dug up the dirt on your unofficial kiddie porn and snuff film operations.”

“I’m merely a free-market capitalist who endeavors to meet the needs of the market, by matching my levels of supply to the audience’s levels of demand,” Lodestone objected, rubbing at his temple in a circular motion with the thick tip of his index finger. “What is the primary purpose of pornography, if not to sell customers the products that they’re too ashamed to admit in public that they actually want?”

“The point is that we all should be entitled to have the same amount of fun,” Meg shot back automatically. “I’m the last woman in the world who’d want to rain on anyone else’s parade, but no matter how kinky any guy or gal lets any of their sexual fantasies or role-playing sessions get, mutual informed consent has got to be a mandatory condition for everyone who gets involved. I ain’t about to complain about Remington Ramrod playing an over-the-top ghetto stereotype in his videos, even though I’d hope there’s more to him than that, because he’s a grown man and that’s his choice, just like it’s been my choice to do BDSM scenes on occasion, since sometimes, even a gal who’s more comfortable in charge gets an itch to get herself tied up tight. I’m all about opening doors to more choices, but you’re all about taking those choices away.”

“We all fight for the right to revel in our own aesthetics, I suppose,” Lodestone allowed magnanimously. “Rather like Mars Meltsher’s long-running, recently concluded career of erasing as many female characters as he could from the superhero genre. I wonder, whom do you suppose might have been powerful or perverse enough to enable him originally, so that he could commence his campaign of gender cleansing?”

“Wait, you’re expecting us to buy off on some ZOMG POSSIBLE SPOILER that Meltsher was, like, your Darth Maul?” Wendy giggled. “No wonder he went down like such a punk bitch.”

Lodestone’s suppressed smirk gave way to a mirthful grin. “You know, I really regret not making your acquaintance sooner. Such a smartarsed little spitfire, so much like your mother. How I’d love to have as lovely a young lady as yourself in my employ, especially one with as talented a tongue as yours.”

“Ignore him, baby,” Meg warned worriedly.

“What, I should be scared of Larry Flynt, with working legs and a faggy British accent?” Wendy snorted derisively. “Screw that noise.”

“It’s occurred to me, not only have you survived an adolescence of consuming enough questionable pharmaceutical substances to kill off David Bowie and the entire lineup of the Rolling Stones combined, but I’ll bet you’ve barely even sweated through the slightest symptoms of withdrawal yet, have you?” Lodestone narrowed his eyes in consideration, even as his hand gestures remained casual and expansive. “Granted, I’d imagine the Impossibilitium in your system might help out more than a bit with that, but that’s not the habit that’s hardest for you to kick, is it? It’s not the narcotics, but supervillainy itself that gives you the greatest high, because the abuse you’ve suffered has taught you where true power comes from. True power cannot be conferred by magical trinkets or accidents of happenstance, but instead, it derives from the understanding that being utterly devoid of a common conscience with one’s fellow man makes one capable of absolutely anything.”

Wendy rolled her eyes in contempt, even as her hands betrayed her trembling. “So, this is the part where I’m supposed to be drawn to the Dark Side of the Force, yeah? Well, I’m not dumb enough to be Karen Page, and you’re not skinny enough to be Wilson Fisk. Don’t you have a sandworm to get eaten by, Baron Harkonnen?”

“You’re your mother’s daughter and your brother’s sister both,” Lodestone acknowledged approvingly. “It’ll be such a pleasure to break your spirit.”

“You even think about laying your ‘Touch of Temptation’ on her, and I swear, I will pull the full length of your bloody guts out of your bloated body through your asshole, and I will force-feed them back to you with both fists,” Meg glared, gritting her teeth.

Otomo finally presented his folded paper creation, a remarkably ornate origami replica of the Lair Legion Mansion in miniature, holding it out in his open palm before he crumpled it up and tossed it into a nearby trash basket.

“Whoa, that’s wicked subtle symbolism,” Wendy snarked.

“LODESTONE,” a gruff voice bellowed, with what could have passed for the wrath of God.

“Wilton,” Lodestone grumbled in grudging recognition, before he even saw Sir Mumphrey Wilton standing behind him. Lodestone laid a prudent restraining hand upon Otomo’s shoulder, even as he teased Wilton to provoke his already evident temper. “It’s been ages. Out of idle curiosity, whatever end befell our mutual acquaintance, Cmdr. Erskine Black?”

“Get the hell out of my house,” Wilton barked tersely.

“But I was invited,” Lodestone protested softly, still testing Wilton.

“And I’m revoking that invitation,” Wilton closed the distance between himself and Lodestone with swift strides, until the two were nearly nose-to-nose. “Now, you can either walk out the way you came, voluntarily, or be thrown out by several dangerously volatile Detonator Hippos, one of the few breeds of land mammals whose individual weight outclasses even your own.”

After the two traded silent stares for a tense moment, Lodestone simply shrugged his shoulders and clapped his hands together with a brief, braying laugh.

“By the time our clan’s designs stand revealed, the fate of your family shall be sealed,” Lodestone proclaimed to Meg in impromptu poetry, as he and Otomo left the premises. “Your spawn may mock us, and call me a swine, but in the end, your world will become mine.”


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