Tales of the Parodyverse

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killer shrike isn't fond of this one
Wed Oct 20, 2004 at 11:35:17 pm EDT
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Follies of Youth/Killer Shrike Tie-In Part Three


Smells like Teen Spirit… and Giant Carnivorous Mammals


The girl with the giant handbag and the Tonya Harding demeanor strode up to the counter.

“Gimme a ticket,” she growled to the teller.

“That’ll be $7.50,” the young man replied, “Um, Miss, what do you have in the bag?”

“Personal items, accessories. Girl stuff.”

“I see. I only ask because, ah, it an awfully large purse and the theater has rules about bringing in outside foodstuffs-“

The girl threw the handbag at the adenoidal teen, “You wanna check, Columbo? Be my f****** guest.”

He gingerly opened the bag, pulling out a black helmet resplendent with a horsehair topknot, “Ah…”

“Mascot uniform: the Gothametropolis Tech Killer Shrikes,” she explained.

“What’s a Killer Shrike?”

Simon Maddicks’s female countenance twisted into a sinister smile, “You’re going to get your chance to find out soon, buddy.”

*****


It was easy enough to find Yo in the half-crowded theater. S/he was the only one in the silk and satin Zorro outfit. Killer Shrike made his way to the front aisle and sat directly behind the Legionnaire.

Once settled in he realized he had no idea what to do.

His boss, the Hooded Hood, had given him the task of helping the thought being thwart an attack by the powerful Destroyer of Tales, but very little instructions, which was surprising. Usually the cowled crime czar was much more particular in his orders.

Simon decided to improvise, “Hey, great movie, huh?” he whispered.

Yo turned around, terrifying Shrike with his/her massive globs of mascara and black eye shadow.

“Gah! Hey, there, Tammy Fae. Save some eyeliner for the next person.”

“Please is not to be talking during sad movie,” s/he said softly, before she resumed watching the screen.

“Yeah, sad stuff, this-“ Shrike checked his ticket stub, “Bicycle Thief?! Does it have any chase scenes?”

“No. Excusing me, Yo is to be moving to where it is less chatty now.”

“Hold on there, Yo. We need to talk.”

“Shhhh!!!” commanded an elderly man in a corduroy sports coat and scully cap.

“Look,” Simon put his hand on Yo’s forearm, “I know who you are and I’m here to tell you you’re in danger. A bad s*** storm’s coming.”

The Legionnaire tore his/her arm free from Shrike’s grip, “So? Has been storming s*** for a long time in the Parodyverse. Poor Peggy and Finny and DK and Premiere and Sorcy. Is not the same.”

“Uh, right.”

Yo pulled a marble composition book from her bag, “Yo wrote a poem about meaningingless of life. Would cute girl be liking to read it?”

Killer Shrike growled at the word ‘cute,’ but he nodded, “Yeah, but let’s go somewhere where there’s more light.”

*****


The odd pairing found their way to a nearby pretentious outside coffee bar. As Yo sipped at his/her plain black decaf Shrike struggled through the thought being’s printed thoughts.

Finally he gave up, “Maybe you can give me the crib notes version?”

“Yo is commentarying on the darkening impenetrable void that the Parodyverse is becoming. Threats are becoming less and less cute. Where have the Peter Von Dooms been gone?”

Simon was nonplussed, “You’re upset because…. the villains aren’t lame anymore?”

“Some villains are still being in the lameness: Towel Man, Birthday Bandit, Killer Shrike, but challenges are getting more serious. Is not fun anymore.”

Simon looked about as irate as a fourteen year old girl with a french braid could look, “What. A. Pity.”

“And Yo is feeling sad because Yo is trying to keep spirits on the up for Lair Legion, but Yo is failing!”

“Why is it your job to make sure everybody is happy?!”

“What?”

Killer Shrike rolled his eyes, “This is what I hate about superheroes: the G** d*** martyr complex. People are miserable. So? You think we’re owed something out of life? Get real.”

Yo considered her tablemate suspiciously, “Yo is thinking cute Simone talks very jaded for someoneing so young.”

“Look who’s talking. Why are you even a teenager anyway? Aren’t you, like, made out of thoughts, or something?”

“Yo was sensing changes in friends, was thinking when being in Rome, do as Romanings do,” the thought being stared into her mug.

“You chose to become a teenager? Are you crazy?! I wouldn’t want to be a kid again for all the tea in China!”

“Is not cute Simone already in being a teenager?”

“Ah, well, OK, I guess I should come clean here. I’m uh, I’m your guardian angel, Yo.”

“Like cute Messenger?”

“Sure, why not.”

Yo seemed doubtful, “Yo is thinking you have a very potty mouth for an angeling.”

“Have you ever met Messenger?” Shrike snarked, “Now, see, I’m on a quest to get my wings. If I can get you to think life is worth living again-“

Yo held up a gloved finger, “Please to be waiting a moment. Cute Simone is positing that she is Yo’s guardian angel; being sent to convince life is worth living. But before, cute Simone was saying,” and here Yo mimicked Simon’s inflection perfectly, because s/he thought s/he could, “This is what I hate about superheroes: the G** d*** martyr complex. People are miserable. So? You think we’re owed something out of life? Get real.”

“What’s your point?” Shrike muttered.

“Just that Simone the angel’s reasoninging is very contradictory.”

“Yeah, right. But you see, here’s the thing-“

It was at this moment that the Apuffylipian Zoom Tube gateway opened and a score of giant, frothing at the mouth ermines scurried out. Behind them came their master.

“I am here, Earthers, to destroy for Dark Thugos!” Steppenstoat waved his energy emanating Galactic Glaive menacingly, “I seek the one called Yo!”

“Oh, thank you!” Shrike ducked under their table for the bag that contained his costume, “This I can handle.”

Next: Our concluding chapter, and we see if Yo can get out of his/her funk and shrike can get back to his/her correct gender.






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