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The Last (Well, Actually, First As Well) Temptation Of A Junior Reader: A PsychoAcidPervGrrrl! Story ... hopefully, this will help to cheer you people out there somewhat, so that we are not all so sad? Thursday, 13-May-1999 10:20:35
PsychoAcidPervGrrrl!: You're serious!? VelcroVixen: Believe it or not, the Hooded Hood himself took steps based upon that assumption, but with the opposite goal in mind. Why else do you think we recruited the Frazetti twins? PAPG!: Yeah, I guess Hoody Hoodpecker isn't exactly susceptible to the charms of a pair of college cheerleaders, no matter how nubile they might be. So, he snatched them from the timeline so that CrazySugarFreakBoy! wouldn't be able to make out with them, only to find out that he'd already lost his cherry anyway? I wish I could have seen the look on his face. VV: Don't worry. With your vivid imagination, I'm sure you can picture the war of numbed shock and overwhelming anger that played over his usually repressed features. I'll admit, it threw us all for a loop. A kid like that, I'd have pegged as a virgin until his dying days. PAPG!: So, if you don't mind divulging such classified information, who was the questionably lucky lass who earned the dubious distinction of being the first to sample his sweet pixie-stix? VV: Our portal surveilance indicates that it was one Geri Halliwell, a British national and -for a brief time - an exotic dancer at his own mother's strip club, who did Dreamcatcher Foxglove the honor of popping his cork for him, shortly before wending her way back to her native London soil and resuming her nude modeling career, at least for starters. PAPG!: Wait. Geri Halliwell - where have I heard that name before? This'll sound stupid, but I'd swear I can almost picture her in my mind's eye, with big boobs and dyed red hair. VV: I'll give you a hint. After her obligatory stint as a "Page Three Girl" in the papers, she made a name for herself in pre-teen circles by crooning, "If you wannabe my luuuh-vah ..." (Stunned silence) PAPG!: You're kidding. GINGER SPICE!?!?!? VV: Who gave herself to him as a present for his fourteenth birthday party, no less. PAPG!: Geez, even an emotionally unstable nympho chick like me held out past my sweet sixteen celebration! And here I had him all pegged as this wide-eyed innocent. What a slut! VV: Better yet, if that little tidbit doesn't just blow your brain, then this will absolutely melt your mind. Not only has he since had quite a few random sexual encounters, with otherwise intelligent women from all sorts of backgrounds, but he also somehow succeeded in scoring some serious, real-deal, committed girlfriend action. PAPG!: Oh, a loved one, eh? Hmmm, a strike against such a obvious vulnerable spot could be highly effective. Don't suppose you could slide me a breakdown on the data in Miss Thang's file? VV: Sure, just give me a minute. Ah, okay, here we go. Isabel "Izzy" Shapiro, grandparents emigrated from Russia, an ethnic mix of Jewish and Gypsy heritage. Dealt with a lot of $#!+ because of her race and religion in the upper-crust, blueblood community she grew up in, not to mention suffering a constant degree of mental and physical assaults from the snobby rich cliques in her adolescent years, because of her goth girl wardrobe and attitude. In fact, her background, personality, and penchant for tatoos and body-piercings kind of remind me of ... PAPG!: Um, why are you looking at me like that? VV: No reason. Never mind; forget I said anything. Anyhow, we weren't able to dig up many details for her personal history file. She initially met Foxglove during their tenure together at Doherty Junior High School in Andover, Massachusetts, before he and his mom moved back to the Seattle area, and was reunited with him at the University of Washington, where the seeds of playful flirting that had been sown by their affectionate friendship in New England finally blossomed into a full-fledged romantic relationship. The kicker? To this day, she remains the only woman Foxglove has ever loved. PAPG!: Yes! Check and mate. She is SO toast. VV: ... Oh God. More than you know. Listen to this. Under the latest update entry heading, it gives her age as 21 - the same as Foxglove - but with the words "at time of death" scribbled in below. This girl has been dead and buried barely less than a year now. Worse still, according to the attached hospital documents, Foxglove was sitting there with her, holding her hand and talking to her, when she flatlined. PAPG!: Wh - what? That can't be right. I mean, how could he have been dealt such a tragic blow, and still be so callow after having coped with that level of loss, so sickeningly positive and optimistic after his world fell out from under him? Besides which, it's so totally not fair! The love of his life, the one who holds the key to his heart, the perfect freaking target ... and _I_ didn't even get to be the one to kill her! Dammit, this sucks! It's like if the Pre-Crisis Superman didn't have to worry anymore about rescuing Lois Lane, or if Peter Pan didn't have any innocence for Captain Hook to try and corrupt. I'm being deprived of the best, most stereotypical, most cliched, and most overused means of revenge to be found in the four-color medium, and it's completely uncool! VV: Don't be frustrated, dear. If taking liberties with the maturationally immature is all you're after, you can always go for another round with a Junior Reader. I still can't believe you let him get into your pants at all. PAPG!: Don't remind me, please. Even though he didn't last much beyond a minute, I still had to check my wristwatch every few seconds to keep from nodding off. The only occasions in our interlude during which I managed to stay awake without making a conscious effort were when he was creeping me the hell out, which as you should recognize is no small accomplishment. He wouldn't stop calling me "Jubilee," and I swear to God, he actually asked me to cry out, "Yes, Wolvie, pierce my tight, underage spandex suit with your long, thick, ridged bone claws, until I shower you with my sticky sparks!" I had to bite the inside of my cheeks until they bled, just to hold it in and not burst out laughing. VV: Why do you bother with that annoying insect at all? He persists in inquiring whether I'd care to have my "look revamped," to show off even more flesh than my current costume exposes. PAPG!: Well, I'm teaching myself all that I can about destroying superheoes and ruining good comic book characters, and Junior Reader's Homage Shrine To The Creative Genius Of Image contains the largest library of Rob Liefeld work - in the categories of both worthless writing and atrocious art - ever compiled, as well as an infinite multitude of other resources, which I could definitely use in my ongoing efforts. VV: Just so long as you reassure me on this count. You WILL kill that hormone-ball once you've learned all that you need to, correct? PAPG!: Oh, but of course. I might even let you have first crack at him, my dear. Speaking of which, you think Hoody Hoodpecker would care terribly if I appropriated the Frazetti twins for my own purposes? It's not like he's doing anything important with them at the moment. VV: I'm not sure. You know how nit-picky he is about acquisitions which he regards as being his property. What were your plans for the pair? PAPG!: I dunno, I just thought it might be nice to have some reserve henchpersons in the event of a Junior Reader's untimely demise - maybe give them red and purple cheerleading uniforms, with pink highlights, to complement the colors of my own SillySuit, and rename them "Rayvn & Luna T.K." ... you know, raving lunatic? Granted, it's a bit lame, but no moreso than the Riddler's improbably christened molls, Query and that other bitch, whose nickname escapes me. VV: Forgive me for asking, little girl, but seeing as how you yourself are technically under the employ of the Hooded Hood, haven't you stopped to coinsider that you owning lackeys of your own might qualify as a breach of contract? PAPG!: Aw, don't you fret your pretty, pouty, wrinkle cream-coated puss about it, Vickers. He'll let me get away with it, just like he puts up with it when I call him "Hoody Hoodpecker" to his face, because I'm too important to him to be offed for my minor displays of disobedience. VV: He might take issue with that statement. PAPG!: Yeah, I'll bet he would, except that in the end, he'll let me off with a stern reprimand. Why? Because he really, REALLY hates CrazySugarFreakBoy!, almost to the exclusion of everything else in existence, and regardless of how much pride he carries in that regal bearing, that type of all-consuming hatred is far too great to allow him, in his indignance at my insouciance, to fire the one person who could get rid of his worst problem, forever. VV: What an amazingly overgrown ego you have, for someone who practically started wearing a training bra last week. Your hubris alone is blinding in the shining brilliance of its ignorance. If you were as important to the Hood as you seem to think, why is it that _I_ was bestowed the post of his lieutenant, and not you? PAPG!: It's not an especially smart business move to nominate a fellow to the vice-presidency whom you suspect will eventually usurp your authority. At least with you, he knew that you possesed enough of a LACK of initiative, tactical strategy, and guts to try and step out of the shadow of his billowing, protective cape. VV: You're playing with fire, little girl - PAPG!: Screw you, old cow, you don't scare me. (The catfight we all wished would happen is pre-emptively cut short by the Hooded Hood's signal, as the assumbled Purveyors of Peril scramble to ready themselves for portal transport) VV: We'll continue this wee discussion later, I trust? PAPG!: (Grinning evilly) I look forward to it, ma'am. To be continued in the next installment of Ian's amazing story! CrazySugarFreakBoy! misses Jarvis too. :~( |
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