"Hmm," the Hooded Hood mused. "Now why should people wish to kill because someone is making a mockery of the Parodyverse? Wouldn't that somewhat depopulate the planet?" He watched Visionary trying to open the Lair kitchen with a trayful of waffles in both hands. "Not that that would be a bad thing," he reflected.
Flapjack limped up to give the cowled crime czar a waffle. "So do I exist or not?" he asked anxiously. "And more important, was that chick hot ot what?"
The Hooded Hood regarded the Lair Legion's hunchbacked butler with a frown. "The Hooded Hood does not do waffles. As for the visit from the fair Keiko, it was meant to be a gentle foray to blur her into the Parodyverse, to see how she meshed, nothing more. It required certain... compromises with reality. Nothing major."
"So did she pass or what?" Flapjack asked, leering down at the hallway where she'd stood. "I thought she had a kind of butler-fetish."
"I thought it best to keep you out of her visit so that you didn't end up trepanated," the Hood replied. "As for Keiko and her colleagues, I anticipate that their lives will be complicated enough in the near future. But it's comforting to know that when they really need to be screwed up properly the foundations have been laid."
"Is that why you slipped Nats over to Garden City?" Flapjack guessed.
"Are you suggesting that I would do such a thing?"
Just then there was a clatter of falling waffles, so Flapjack scampered away before the three-Legionnaire pile-up got any worse.
The Hooded Hood pressed the tips of his fingers together, leaned back in his ornate throne-like chair, and waited...
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