Tales of the Parodyverse

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killer shrike
Mon Oct 11, 2004 at 06:13:17 pm EDT
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"Follies of Youth, Part Four"
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“Follies of Youth, Part Four”


I Was So Much Older Then; I’m Younger Than That Now


Eddie, imp of the *th Dimension, looked upon his work and saw that it was good.

A Visionary, plucked from the timeline close to twenty years earlier, was indeed experiencing a delightful degree of discomfort over being thrust into the present day, where his current self had struggled as guardian to an eclectic band of hormonal teenagers. Now, as a hormonal teenager himself, Visionary’s students would have to play guardian to him.

And the bit with teen Mumphrey and Lisa was quite entertaining, even if it had that awful h-word in it.

However, Eddie decided to change the rules a bit when it came to another of the Lair Legion’s senior set. Having Mr. Epitome regress to sixteen again was a predicament rife with comic possibilities, but the extra-dimensional nuisance thought it would be funnier simply to de-age the Paragon of Power, turning back the clock on his physical and emotional development. Yes, having someone with Epitome’s mandate and power suddenly suffer from the biochemical maelstrom that was adolescence was a much better story, so he did it.

As a point of interest, the other reason Eddie didn’t simply bring young Mr. Epitome to the here and now was that the hero’s past had been muddled by a Hooded Hood retcon, and if there was one law of the Parodyverse the imp avoided breaking, it was the one that said Don’t Screw with the Hood.

It was these things in mind Eddie hit the “back” button on his television remote, until he rewound 22 years from the maturity of Mr. Epitome.

*****


“Hallie, come here. I need you!” Mr. Epitome bellowed from his tiny office.

The green-hued AI appeared in a burst of pixels, “What is-oh my!”

Hallie stared in shock at Dominic Clancy’s transformation. He was still tall, but his torso was not as expansive as it normally was. His seemingly permanent five o’ clock shadow was gone.

“Yes, I have apparently undergone some kind of age regression,” Epitome nodded as he hitched up his costume’s breeches.

“Were you attacked? Does it hurt?” Hallie asked, unsure of what one said to a person reverting to his teen years.

“Answering your last question first, No, I feel fine. As for your first, obviously I am the victim of some form of attack. I need you to gather all available data on Lair Legion adversaries who have used somatic transformations or chronal distortions as part of their modus What the hell is wrong with these pants?!” Epitome unbuckled his belt and pulled it taut, producing a Swiss Army knife to poke a much needed new hole in it.

“There. Much better,” he set about tightening the strap on his cowl. Hallie noted the Star Spangled Splendor now had a full head of wavy chestnut brown hair, “Do you have that data, yet?”

“Give me a moment. Yes.”

“Good. I need fourteen hard copies faxed to the conference room. Then check all search engines for reports of this reverse aging phenomenon occurring anywhere else in the last thirty days. I’m going to check on the status of the other Legionnaires,” Epitome strode out of the room as convincingly as his baggy attire would allow.

Who’s behind this? Not one of my enemies, that’s for sure. They aren’t so lame as to pull such a contrived stunt. Dr. Mango? Moo? Wang the Conqueror? Probably Wang. Stupid son of a b*tch, what kind of time-traveling intergalactic tyrant wastes his time with lame *ss plots like getting the Legion pregnant. I wonder if Harper can build a time machine. We can take the fight to Wang. I’m hungry. My metabolism must be operating at its adolescent levels. Hash and eggs. Toast. Milk. Coffee? Wrong to drink coffee at sixteen. Stunts your growth. That’s just a myth. What if I’m trapped this way forever? Would it be so bad? Gives me more time to- God, I can still smell Hallie. Ozone and vanilla. What kind of program simulates that? And her… motions. Cheerleading outfit. Angora sweater and pleated skirt. “Go, Dominic, go!” Chr*st, I need to snap out of this. Who’s that?

Harlagaz of Ausgard stepped out into the hall, bleary eyed and pajama clad. He stopped and gaped at the slightly sagging super agent.

“What are you looking at, Fabio?” Dominic stopped and got into the brawny hemi-god’s face.

“I art confused. Thou weareth the livery of mine boon companion’s master Mr. Epitome, but thou art reedier and slimmer of hips. Maidenly, even. What transpirest here?”

The Paragon of Power decided he didn’t care for the Ausgardian’s tone. It lacked respect. No wonder Glory was picking up bad habits now that she was a Junior Legionnaire. He decided it was past time to teach this “god” a lesson.

“What’s happening, Shakespeare, is that your bloated *ss is blocking my way. So why don’t you waddle to one side so I can pass?”

“Mine name is Harlagaz, pugnacious one, and if thou wanteth me to move, why not dost thou maketh me?”

The two exchanged belligerent, testosterone fueled grins, and then the roughhousing started.

And the house would find it very rough indeed.






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