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Post By An epically long tale from... the Hooded Hood Sat Aug 13, 2005 at 07:00:16 am EDT |
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#227: Untold Tales of the Wedding of Nats and Uhuna | |
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#227: Untold Tales of the Wedding of Nats and Uhuna Previously: Newly returned from a gruelling mission in hell in which he absorbed the energies of the Prince of Fibs and accidentally won an abandoned abyssal realm, Nats prepares for his wedding to exiled Abhuman princess Uhunalura. The Lair Legion field team returns from disaster relief in Africa with news that their case is linked with the previous disappearance of the mythological realm of Ausgard, while Lisa, Dancer, and Donar bring warning of the disappearance of the Chronicler of Story’s extraplanar stronghold. And newest probationary Legionnaire Yuki Shiro needs a new jacket. Again.In other people’s series, Mr Epitome has had the last fifteen years of his memories wiped clean, and Hallie has suffered and unfortunate technical malfunction that means she has turned blue. Link to Surprisingly Decent Proposal by Nats. “The Parody Master is probably our most powerful foe,” Lisa Waltz warned the Lair Legion. “He’s about 6’8”, with a firm muscular body and a huge…” “Miss Waltz,” Sir Mumphrey Wilton called the amorous advocatrix to order. “…suit of indestructible red combat armour,” Lisa concluded. “He manifests by possessing and transforming people into himself.” “Kind of like an evil Captain Universe,” CrazySugarFreakBoy! chipped in. “Or an Elvis impersonator.” “There are reports of manifestations of the Parody Master going back as far as the records of the Intergalactic Order of Librarians go,” Lee Bookman, Librarian of the Lunar Public Library contributed. “Although the manifestations are definitely becoming more frequent.” “The LL fought him way back when we were the League of Regulars,” Visionary remembered with a shudder. “He was carving out whole cities and dropping them into stasis in the Vortex or somewhere to prevent people born in those cities who were destined to become heroes from becoming heroes.” “He stole Bogall,” remembered Dancer, referring to the place of her birth. “Yea and he cheatethed by hiding behind yon infinite army of avawarriors,” complained Donar. “I wast winning when he unfairly didst bludgeon me senseless.” “More senseless,” spiffy suggested, then ducked quickly under the table. The President-for-Life of Badripoor was here to discuss the political implications of the Parody Master stealing the nation of Wakandybar, but already he was slipping back into old ways. “Thou art not too old to smite wrothfully, coat rack,” growled the hemigod of thunder.” “That’s what I keep telling him,” said Banjoooo, King of the Sea Monkeys. “But for some reason he still keeps on being spiffy.” Donar became sullen again. “I wilt find wherein yon Parody Master hath taken mine missing realm of Ausgard and shalt rescue mine beloved Queen Annj and then I shalt find yon Parody Master and…” “Bleed on him, big guy?” Lisa suggested. “He’s manifested very powerfully this time. He’s carved out the Chronicler of Stories and his whole stronghold.” “Manifested?” De Brown Streak sighed. “Boy, I wish his name started earlier in the alphabet so I could have got to his entry before I had to go meet Inga and Thonga. And Barbi, Flossi, and Kissi. And…” “That’ll do, Mr Clement,” Sir Mumphrey scowled. “Sometimes the Parody Master has possessed an inappropriate body that has left him weak and incompetent,” Hatman told the sepia speedster. “Hey!” objected spiffy. “I was resisting him, that’s all.” “And sometimes he’s possessed such a strong-willed individual that his own agenda was subsumed by theirs. For a while,” Lisa went on. “We don’t know which version of PM we’re up against this time.” “What has all of this to do with weird things ruining my new jacket at Paradopolis University?” Yuki Shiro demanded. The Legion’s newest associate member had just seen Amber St Clare’s expenses forms and she’d been in a better mood. “Nothing?” ventured Al B. Harper. “As best we can tell, that was a mix up with the Necromancer General getting the wrong idea about who was flying into hell to claim Mefrothto’s abandoned realm.” “You know, I haven’t missed these kind of briefing sessions one little bit,” spiffy admitted. “According to Xander the Improbable, a demon called Neka put out a bounty on the soul of Nitz, thinking Nitz the Bloody was going to inherit the dead hell-lords power, not Nats the Annoying,” Lisa clarified. “It’s all sorted out now. Has Xander managed to prise that infernal energy out of Nats yet?” “He’s still working with him,” Hallie reported. “Last I heard he was inventing new curse words and hitting Bill with willow wands.” “We really should have videoed the event,” CSFB! sighed. “As an example of a modern occult procedure, I mean. Not to play at the Christmas party or anything.” “What have we got on Wakandybar, then?” wondered Hatman. The capped crusader had just returned from an exhausting reconnaissance of the vanished African country. It had seemed to take forever and go over and over the same ground again and again. spiffy shook his head ruefully. “Well, even apart from a shift a mass that large out of the planet’s crust causing massive earthquakes, the changes have destabilised the entire region. Revolutions, invasions, everybody blaming everybody else…” “The Global Guardians have gone in there,” CSFB! declared. “In their RVs of Righteousness. This is exactly the kind of operation they were trained for. Mr Book is helping them with financial and economic back-up, and they’re bringing stability and peace to the region. Gradually.” Hatman wasn’t sure he trusted his friend’s reformed super-villain team but he held his tongue. “That wasn’t the only bit of Earth the Parody Master grabbed this time round, though,” Banjooooo warned. “I checked that tsunami on the Asian coastline. Fishionah, the city of the fish people? It’s gone.” “Fish people?” objected Yuki. “Tell me about it,” sympathised DBS. “Wait till you meet the Racoon People,” Dancer warned. “Although it’s possible they might be somehow related to Josh.” “Wakandybar was the world’s only source of vibatium, and Fishionah was… a source of fish oil?” Visionary ventured. “Why would the Parody Master steal them?” “We need to know what the Parody Master is up to before we can counter him,” Sir Mumphrey reasoned. “Hallie, have we heard back from Amazing Guy yet?” “No,” the Legion’s resident artificial intelligence worried. “He’s not responding to the special frequency we set up. But I do have a report from Yo, Tricky, and the Shoggoth.” The leader of the Lair Legion saw the look on her face. “Let’s have it,” he said grimly. “We know now why Sersi’s not replied to her wedding invitation,” Hallie told them. “The city of the Austernals is gone too!” “By the Oldman!” shouted Donar. “Tis too much. There must be smiting forthwith!” “Who do we smite, big guy?” spiffy asked reasonably. “Not me! Not me!” “We’re running out of people to get help from,” Dancer worried. “Are we going to have to postpone Uhuna and Nats’ wedding?” “Hmph,” snorted Sir Mumphrey Wilton. “Best not. Way things are going there might not be a later. Let’s get ‘em safely bound in holy wedlock before something else happens, what?” “Gnarly!” beamed CrazySugarFreakBoy! “Tricky and I have set up a little stag night for the Natster.” He caught Hatman’s despairing look. “Nothing tawdry. Best possible taste.” “But you and Trickshot set it up,” Hallie pointed out. “Just a few guys having a quiet evening at a local bar with a bunch of my mom’s friends, is all,” grinned CSFB! “But isn’t his mother an international porn star?” objected Yuki Shiro. “Yep,” smiled De Brown Streak happily. “Since I wasn’t invited to the stag night,” Lisa said sourly, “the girls will be attending Uhuna’s bridal shower at 9pm. Dress is optional.” “You mean formal dress is optional,” checked Hallie. Lisa smiled. “Can I change my vote and go to the bridal shower?” asked DBS. “I’ll be here followin’ up on the Parody Master case, and seeing if we’ve got anything new on those robots and the Wastelands radiation they stole,” Sir Mumphrey told the team. “No, Mr Boaz, I can manage quite well thank you. Enjoy your night off with your fellows.” “Must I?” winced Hatman. “Lair Legion Line Up!” called spiffy for old times’ sake, just before Donar crushed him inside the coffee trolley. Master Machine detached himself from the operations console and turned to loom at his fellow robots. “Oh dear,” he said, commenting on their mission performance. “Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear.” “It wasn’t our fault,” protested Virtual Machine. “The Lair Legion interfered. There was this horrible dragon…” “I thought he was kind of cute,” Sex Machine interrupted. “Did you see that super-sch…” “You managed to get five operatives damaged or destroyed,” Industrial Machine boomed, his massive bulk clanking away as he forged new bodies for the downed robots. “And you revealed our existence to the flesh-champions,” Master Machine pointed out. “Nor was the hybrid abomination eliminated.” “I’ll get her next time,” promised Mean Machine. “I’ve got a whole directory programmed with what I’m going to do with little Yuki Shiro!” “The contract’s been cancelled,” reported Political Machine. “And they’re saying the hybrid is now associated with the Lair Legion. That assassination just became a rather expensive luxury for the Machine Shop.” “We got the radiation out though, Master,” Kidney Machine pointed out nervously. “We can collect on that commission. Adding Machine is bringing the agent here now.” “It was still a sloppy, mismanaged operation,” Master Machine told them. “I’m activating your pain and punishment protocols for twenty-four hours. Improve.” He ignored the screech of a score of agonised robots toppling twitching to the floor behind him and went to the interface area to meet the agent. He paused for a moment to watch Fitness Machine writhe. He liked how she squirmed in agony. “Appropriate greetings,” he bade the fleshling agent who had commissioned the radiation harvest and had provided the technical stats to bring down the Wastelands force field. “Has the money been transferred to our accounts?” “It has,” Adding Machine confirmed. “You have the canister?” asked Nadezhda Prokofiev, the Mind’s Eye. Media Machine handed it over with a winning video-smile. The Mind’s Eye ran a sleek scanner over the casing of the package she’d been delivered. “Very good,” she agreed. “Factor X thanks you for your work.” Then the right hand woman of the world’s most powerful international arms dealer left with the most concentrated source of radiation on planet. She had deadlines to meet. Master Machine checked that the bioscanners had isolated her psionic wavelengths for a time when she would have to die with all other organic life forms, then went back to enjoy Fitness Machine’s agonised writhings for a while longer. “I have not been to a mortal wedding before,” Cleone Swanmay admitted to Hallie as the AI’s remote drone flew into Xander’s shop and formed up a hologram of the electronic woman. “I know so little of your customs. Will the participants be naked or clothed?” “Usually clothed,” Hallie instructed. “Although this is Uhuna and Nats we’re talking about, so who knows? We had some serious trouble convincing the princess and Yo not to dress the bridesmaids in bunny girl outfits.” Cleone indicated her sky-blue robe and her swan-feather cloak. “Will this be appropriate attire?” “For the wedding, I guess so. For tonight’s party, maybe something a bit more casual?” “I have a sea-green robe? Or an azure one?” “No jeans and a top?” Hallie suggested, shifting her holographic form to demonstrate. “No? Okay then, I guess we’ll have to introduce you to that other mortal custom of clothes shopping.” She looked thoughtful for a moment. “I wonder is Vizh is doing anything? He loves to carry the parcels.” “Should I also give the nuptial pair a gift?” Cleone wondered. “I was thinking of health, wealth, and happiness for their firstborn.” “Beats Trickshot’s six pack and the… manuals CSFB! has got them,” the AI admitted. “And will I be needed for the defence of the wedding?” Cleone enquired. “I don’t know if you mortals have the same problems with drunken centaurs…?” “Centaurs aren’t a major bother normally,” Hallie admitted, “but we try to keep Space Ghost away from the alcohol. And to staple his pants to him.” “I admit I’m quite excited,” Cleone confessed. “Nats and Uhuna are such a wonderful couple, and their auras are already…” She broke off as Xander clattered through the front door. The shop bell jangled discordantly then fell off and broke on the floor. “Xander, hi!” Hallie called. “Cleone and I were just…” Cleone gasped and went pale as she looked at the sorcerer supreme of the Parodyverse. Xander didn’t speak but stalked through the bead curtain into the back room. “I’d… I’d better go,” the swanmay told Hallie hurriedly. “I have… there are things I need to do. Goodbye.” “See you tonight then,” Hallie said worriedly. “I don’t think so,” Cleone warned as she vanished into the depths of the shop. Yuki’s office was a wreck, utterly trashed by the Machine Shop robots that had been hunting her. She rooted through the debris trying to find any files or possessions that hadn’t been deliberately stomped flat by Mean Machine. “Miss Shiro?” came a voice from the doorway. “Yes,” the cyborg P.I. replied, not bothering to correct the visitor. He was male, Caucasian, a hundred and ten pounds, maybe fifty years old, with a permanent wheeze caused by cold on the chest. He wore a pin-striped suit and carried a furled umbrella. “I’m Mr Sneek, of Sneek, Grabbitt, and Thuggery, Attorneys at…” “I know Sneek, Grabbitt, and Thuggery,” Yuki told him. “The Lynchpin’s legal people.” “Actually, today we are representing the city of Gothametropolis York,” the lawyer replied. He handed a bundle of papers over to the purple-haired girl. “Summonses for trespass, illegal damage, and criminal negligence in the matter of your invasion of the Mayoral mansion,” he announced. “I was being chased for my life,” Yuki pointed out, “by villains your Mayor allowed free reign to come get me.” “Your slander is noted,” Mr Sneek declared. “Also, that bundle contains the document revoking your license as a private detective in the city, notification that this building is structurally unsafe and must be demolished, and a writ demanding that you prove your identity as a sentient being rather than a rogue military weapon or be dismantled.” The legal advisor smiled thinly. “We’ll see you in court.” Yuki screwed the documents in her fist. “Oh yeah, well first you’ll have to get somebody to get these documents from where I’ve crammed them up your…” And then Sneek wasn’t there. He’d just vanished. Yuki played back her visual logs to check what had happened. At a frame by frame replay she was just able to discern the brown blur that had grabbed the lawyer and carried him off. And by that time Josh Clement was back leaning on her doorframe. “Hi,” he said. “De Brown Streak,” Yuki Shiro recognised her new team-mate. “Where did you put him?” “Dropped him off about fifteen miles outside Dayton, Ohio,” DBS shrugged. “And his pants are in Omaha. We LL types have to look out for each other.” Yuki couldn’t help grinning a bit. “His paperwork won’t go away so easily though.” “Feed it to Lisa,” Josh advised. “She’ll enjoy seeing Sneek squirm.” He looked around the shattered office. “This is a bit of a fixer-upper,” he noted. “Want me to…?” “No,” the cyborg P.I. answered. “I’m out of business here. My license is pulled. I think I’ll look at setting up over the river in Paradopolis.” “Well, you got that five million from Peter von Doom, right?” DBS pointed out. “That ought to buy some pretty ritzy digs.” “I had five million, yeah,” Yuki admitted, “but how do you declare that on a tax form? And it was the proceeds of crime anyhow. Didn’t feel right to keep it, so the Rebuilding Hell’s Bathroom fund got a big anonymous donation.” “You gave them five million dollars?” “Four and three-quarters,” Yuki shrugged mischievously. “I needed a new jacket. And stuff.” “We’ll find you someplace to move to,” Josh assured her. “Need me to help you pack?” Yuki paused a moment. “Is this a come-on?” she wondered. “Only Hatman said…” “No!” DBS protested. “Hatman’s an ass. It’s right there in the Lair Legion constitution. Well, it is since I got Hacker Nine to get me into the database. It’s not that I’m against chatting up cool purple-haired cyborg woman, but really… I just thought you might need a hand. It’s pretty overwhelming getting dragged into the LL. I know.” He looked at her intently. “I thought you could use a friend.” “A friend it is,” Yuki agreed. She tossed her jacket over her shoulder, crushed the crumpled papers into her back pocket, grabbed Josh’s arm to link with hers, and walked out without a backward glance. “I could stay,” Asil Ashling offered Sir Mumphrey Wilton. “If it helps.” “No, I’ll be fine,” the leader of the Lair Legion told her. “You have to help Uhunalura celebrate her coming wedding. She can’t have a hen night without one of her bridesmaids, now can she?” “I’ve never been a bridesmaid before,” the Lisa-clone admitted. “I’m sure Dancer, Hallie, and Yo will show you what to do.” He looked down at the reports on his desk. “You run along, what? I’m going to take the chance of some peace to try and work out what’s going on with all this weirdness in the city.” “You think it has something to do with the Parody Master stealing Ausgard and Wakandybar and things? Or with whatever those robots wanted with the Wastelands radiation?” “It’s more likely unfinished business with the open season on Nitz,” Mumphrey considered. “The bleeding walls accounts reek of supernatural phenomenon to me. There’s also bizarre reports of people bursting into song and dance, bursting into flame, growing strange wrinkled foreheads, all kind of weirdness. I’ve sent word I need a chat with Xander, but he’s not responded yet.” “You knew Xander before you joined the Legion?” Mumphrey snorted. “Oh yes. Remind me to tell you the story sometime, m’dear. But not now. You need to go to the ball.” His amanuensis nodded. “Take care, then,” she told him. “I’ll be fine,” Mumphrey told her. “Weddings make me a little sad, that’s all. I miss Madge. Best to let me get on with some work.” Asil nodded and closed the door behind her. The eccentric Englishman pulled on his spectacles and started on Al B. Harper’s notes: ‘Psychothaurmaturgical readings suggest yet another swelling wavefront of paranormal activity, focussing on the city in cycles of increasing frequency and amplitude, and of unidentified origin…’ Sir Mumphrey Wilton sighed. “Is there anybody there?” asked the medium, holding hands with her clients in the darkened sitting room. “Oh yes,” came back an unpleasant whisper from the walls. “Quite a few of us, actually.” The querents looked at one another in then dim red light from the room’s only lamp. This wasn’t what usually happened. “We’re very grateful to you,” another voice croaked. “We were looking for a way through. Kind of you to give us one.” “And to provide vehicles for us to ride,” a third giggled, sliding like a shadow towards the body of one of the sitters. “What is this?” the worried medium asked. “Who’s there? What do you want?” There was a sound like the breaking of steel cord or the shattering of a lover’s heart, and every teacup on the table burst into fragments. “Well, they’re walk-in spirits playing stupid games and being opportunists,” said a new voice from the corner. “They want to possess you and enjoy the lovely build-up of evil that’s swelling across the city right now. And I’m Chronic. I want them to bugger off.” “Chronic?” One of the voices hissed. “But you carry…” “Oh crap,” whispered a second tongue. “Yeah, I got Steve with me. The devil’s guitar. And yes, if I have to I’ll mulch you into ectoplasm and smear you across the abyss. So do us all a favour and go away,” the pale musician in the tattered jeans and denim jacket told them. He strode out of the darkness, a sleek black electric guitar slung across his back. “Go now.” “Who…? What are you?” the panicked medium demanded. “An uninvited guest, as usual,” the undead musician answered. “Oh, and that go away thing? That includes you lot too.” “The Fatal Toilet?” Nats swallowed. “You booked my stag party at dull thud’s local?” “Hey, it wus cheap,” Trickshot comforted the flying phenomenon. “So naturally they thought of you,” Goldeneyed contributed, appearing in a bright flash of teleportation energies. “Oh, congratulations on fooling Uhuna into marrying you, by the way.” “Bry Katz,” Nats observed. “You worked your way up to holding hands with Beth Shellett yet? Or is it Laurie Leyton you’re trying to date again this week?” “Guys, time out,” CrazySugarFreakBoy! advised. “Look, we’re all here to have a good time, okay?” “Kicking in G-Eyed face is a good time,” Nats pointed out. “Oh? You think these guys are going to hold me down for you?” sneered Goldeneyed. “That’s enough,” Hatman declared. “This isn’t appropriate behaviour for Legionnaires.” “But I quit,” G-Eyed pointed out. “I thought you were booted?” Nats suggested. “Really, save the hostility fer the weddin’ reception, guys,” Trickshot advised. “Look, Yo did the guest list, right, an’ she invited damn near everybody we know. Be glad that the Apes of Versalia sent their apologies.” “Did they send a gift?” Nats wondered. “Yes,” CSFB! grinned. “But what are you going to do with eleven tons of green bananas?” “I have a suggestion,” muttered G-Eyed. “That does it,” Bill Reed snapped. “I’m going inside to drink myself to oblivion.” “Are you not our designated flyer?” the Manga Shoggoth worried. “Really the Fatal Toilet?” Hatman sighed as they pushed open the door at the end of the alley. “Isn’t this place kind of rough?” “Not tonight,” CSFB! said, pointing to the alcove over in the darkest corner. That was where the Dark Knight and Messenger were sitting enjoying a quiet beer. Outside in the alley, the manhole cover lifted slightly as the black bile in the sewers below frothed out and twisted with a life of its own. “Wow,” admired Dancer. “This place is classy!” The Croque D’Or was the most exclusive casino hotel in Paradopolis, a luxury venue on the outskirts of the civic centre, just into Sheldon. The fawning manager bowed and scraped as Lisa led the bridal shower guests across the lobby. “Miss Waltz,” he toadied. “Will madam be requiring her usual rooms? I can send for extra bus-boys.” “Maybe later, depending on how things go,” the amorous advocatrix advised him. “For now we’re here for the Uhunalura party.” The third floor celebration suite was all prepared, covered in ribbons and balloons. The finger buffet was already laid out. “Oh!” gasped Uhuna. “This is nice. I wasn’t really sure what to expect. I watched that instructional video of CrazySugarFreakBoy!’s…” “Bridal Butts wasn’t exactly a manual…” April Apple warned her. “Dream had just left it in the machine and…” “I asked Bill about the man in the film, and why he was so differently proportioned,” Uhuna went on, “but Bill had a sudden Lair emergency and had to rush off.” “I bet he did,” smirked Laurie Leyton. “They always do, the guys, when that particular subject comes up.” Beth Shellett blushed hard and hurried over to the buffet table. “I wish I could do that,” Hallie frowned, watching the innocent young teacher disappear. “”What?” Uhuna asked, still distracted by her philosophical musings. “I could always lend you the video if…” “Hallie’s natural habitat is the internet,” Amber St Clare pointed out. “She can pretty much access any instructional video she wants to.” “I’m not talking about wishing I could do the activities in…” Hallie began. “What I mean is, I wish I could blush right now.” She pointed to her hologram form. “But I’m still blue until Al B’s little experiment wars off. If I try to blush now I look like a tidy-bowl.” “We did find you a bridesmaid’s dress that didn’t clash with your skin,” Asil pointed out. “Eventually.” “If I wasn’t stuck in the blue shift end of the spectrum I could have created a holo-dress,” the A.I. complained. “As it is, I have the problems of taffeta static cling interfering with my holo-emitters.” “But Flapjack won’t be grabbing you again in a hurry,” Amber consoled her. “I could probably sort out your subelectron particle contamination,” Lara Night offered. “No, that’s fine,” Hallie said hurriedly. “Really. Oh, excuse me is that Miss Framlicker I see over there?” “I sometimes feel as if I’m missing half of what’s going on,” Uhuna sighed. “Your outworld marriage ceremony is very confusing. Your gene-pair partners are expected to live together and raise any offspring as a work unit, without even a basic computer mapping of likely DNA interactions in their progeny.” “It can be a pretty satisfying experience,” Dancer assured the exiled Abhuman princess. “Didn’t your marriage to ManMan last, what, ten minutes before it was annulled?” Lisa remembered. “That was pretty satisfying too,” Dancer agreed. “Ten minutes?” Uhuna frowned. “Was that enough time to even…?” “We didn’t,” Sarah Shepherdson answered. “Not then. Not ever.” “You didn’t? But how? Why?” “So what happens in the Great Relief?” Laurie Leyton asked, tactlessly trying to change the subject. “When you get hitched?” The Abhuman girl paled. “It is… it’s not the same as here. Our marriages are arranged by the Genetics Council, after proper computer modelling and genetic and psychological testing. And then we stand in the Hall of Bonding and Brown Blot joins our hands while the technicians splice our genetic records into the same file.” She sighed. “It can be very romantic.” Just then the ladies toilet exploded. The door steamed for a moment then fell from its hinges. “An attack?” Yuki Shiro was the first to respond, adopting a combat crouch. “It’s okay,” Dancer assured everybody. “Just a little surprise I arranged for Uhuna.” “I think after that video she was hoping for a big surprise,” Lisette said. “It’s what every girl wants,” Bev Campell suggested. “An exploding lavatory.” “Uhuna,” Dancer said to the Abhuman princess, “I think we need to go to the bathroom.” “The bathroom has just blown up,” Asil pointed out. “Yes, and we need to go there,” Dancer insisted. “To powder our noses or something.” Lisa and Dancer took Uhuna by the arms and marched her into the smoking rest area. “Is this part of the bridal shower too?” Uhuna puzzled. “Only I didn’t see this in Bridal Butts. Although there was a bit where…” She fell silent as she saw the massive bulk of the Abhuman war-pig, standing eight feet tall in the remains of a toilet cubicle. “Oh!” she gasped at last. “Suresnout!” She rushed forward and clasped her arms as far as they could go round the massive animal’s neck. “A little piece of home?” Lisa noted. “Nice gesture.” “Suresnout, I’ve missed you!” Uhuna cried, hugging the vast beast. “What about me?” asked the woman behind the teleporting battle pig. “Have you missed your sister?” “Sylverkrin!” Uhuna shrieked. “You came!” “I came,” agreed the queen of the Abhumans. “Strictly unofficially, you understand. You’re cast out and exiled and all of that, and it’s forbidden for me to see you. But you are my little sister, and you are about to be pair-bonded.” The two Abhuman women clasped each other and hugged. “Come on,” Dancer said to Lisa. “We’re missing the hors d’ouvres.” It was the emptiness in the Lair Mansion that alerted Mumphrey to the tiny noise. He put down the papers in his hand – something about black goo welling from manhole covers in Off-Central Park and a rain of headless frogs in Tiny Greece – and went to the door of his study to listen. There it was, echoing along the corridor; a very low-grade noise like an elongated whine. Marie Murcheson, the mansion’s banshee, was keening very quietly. “I’m really not sure about this,” Dominic Clancy told the pure thought being that was dragging him into the Fatal Toilet. “This bar is contravening about three hundred health codes at first glance.” “Is not to be we are here to be worrying of healthing codes,” Yo told Mr Epitome. “Is to be we are celebrating of cute-Nats to be entering of world of matrimonialing, yes?” “But I don’t know Nats,” Mr Epitome pointed out. “Not since I got fifteen years of my memory wiped. He might have met me, but I’ve never met him.” he paused and looked over to the crowd of superheroes clustered round the bar. “I’ve read his file,” he offered. “Yo is to be sure that cute-LL will be happying to be seeing of Mr Epitome,” Yo assured the paragon of power. “Well, semi-sure.” “Epitome?!” Trickshot called, spotting the tall figure in the bar doorway. “What’s th’ matter? We breaking some government noise regulation of somethin’? Or did you just come ta throw a wet blanket on the occasion?” “Nobody informed me that this ceremony required damp laundry,” the Manga Shoggoth worried. “Mortal customs are so confusing.” “Damp laundry’s not required,” spiffy frowned, glaring at Mr Epitome. “Not required at all.” “Are you old enough the drink?” the paragon of power asked the President of Badripoor. Banjooo thought this was so funny he fell of his barstool. “Hold it,” Hatman called out, putting down his glass and going over to Yo and Epitome. “Maybe Mr Clancy has a business reason for calling to see us? Something official? After all, even though we welcomed him into the team over lots of people’s doubts he quit the Lair Legion.” “Nah. I figure he just came because he thinks no celebration’s complete without a total security check,” De Brown Streak spat. “Did you bring your Sentinoids, G-Man?” “I shouldn’t have come,” Epitome told Yo. “I told you this was a bad idea.” Yo caught the man of might’s arm in a grip that prevented him leaving despite all his super-strength. “Is not bad idea,” Yo scowled. “Is bad Lair Legion! To be ashamed of yourselves!” the pure thought being chided his comrades. “Aw c’mon Yo. He did drop the Legion like a used toilet roll when he’d got what he wanted from us,” Nats called unsteadily. He got distracted then by his reflection in Nitz’ helmet and started giggling. “I thought you were okay, Clancy,” Hatman told Epitome. “A square shooter. But I value loyalty.” “I thought you were a dork and a dick,” CSFB! called out. “And guess what? I still think…” “To be stopping it!” Yo barked sharply. “Mister Epitome is being not knowing what you are all to be talking about. He is to be having accident where he is to be losing of his memories for fifteen years, since just after he is first becoming supering. He is not to be remembering any of you, or of what you are to be talking about!” “Really?” Al B. Harper asked, enthusiastically swaying.. “That’s really fascinating. And I notice your outward appearance has likewise youthened. We have to run some tests.” “Al, you’re talking to the coatstand,” ManMan warned. “and I think she’s already dating thuddy.” “He got younger?” Trickshot worried. “Crap, I hope it’s not that flamin’ imp again. I don’t think I could stand another zit onslaught.” “So he lost some memories,” spiffy shrugged. “Jerk minus fifteen years still equals jerk. It’s not like it’s our fault.” The ferned phenomenon had suffered somewhat at the hands of the Epitome Division when he had first accidentally taken over Badripoor. “Excuse me,” Fleabot called urgently, leaping from the bar. “I think I gotta go to the little robot’s room!” The Dark Knight leaned forward, putting down his beer and narrowing his eyes. “What happened?” Messenger asked Epitome. “Some enemy? A serious head injury.” “Got your head stuck up somebody’s…” began DBS until Yo glowered at him. “Busted!” Nats giggled. “We don’t yet know what happened,” Epitome reported. “I’ve been demoted and reassigned until such time as my new status can be determined. The extent of any alteration of my brain to cause such massive memory loss has yet to be ascertained.” “Somebody wiped your mind?” CSFB! winced. “That wasn’t cool when they did it to Batman, and it’s not cool now.” “I imagine the best minds on the planet will work on this,” Hatman assured the paragon of power. “Al B., Enty, Wrichards, Day-Vincent…” “Your ex, Idiom,” Trickshot suggested. “I don’t remember any relationship with that felon,” Epitome scowled. “Letitia’s not a felon,” spiffy argued. “Not in Badripoor anyhow.” Epitome scowled at the ferned phenomenon. “That’s because your nation refused to extradite her to American justice, thus endangering this country and the world, and showing your disregard for international law and your contempt for the USA.” “Whoa,” Nats called out. “Guys, this isn’t the time. It’s a party. It’s a happy time. It’s when we all get very shiny. Shineeeeeee!” And he went back to chuckling at Nitz' helmet again. “Is there anything that says I can’t murder the groom at his stag party?” the priest of Zeku demanded. “Anything?” “Fine by me,” Knifey assured him. “Knock yourself out. Or him. I don’t mind which.” “Okay, well I’m sorry ya got yerself memory-zapped,” Trickshot conceded to Epitome. “Mebbe you’ll take a second chance for whut it is an’ not be such a horse’s ass this time round, huh.” “It’s not like you could be a bigger one,” CSFB! pointed out, flicking flecks of foam from his soda pop at the unexpected guest. Mr Epitome took a deep breath and blew the top of the froth all over the wired wonder. “I could try,” he offered. “Haw!” snorted Trickshot, and lifted his firkin to the man of might. The Librarian was huddled in a corner studying some fifteenth century haikus. “Careful,” he said irritably. “That nearly got on my pages.” Donar looked confused. “Tis quaffing,” he pointed out. “Getting it on yon pages is but part of the experience. As ist yon heaving, chundering, and riotous falling over. Tis how we ensure the health of the groom.” He slapped Nats on the back and sent the flying delivery man on an impromptu flight across the bar. G-Eyed nearly choked laughing. Big Thick Eddie and CSFB! helped Nats to his feet and wiped the finger food off him. Bill Reed focussed a little and waved his arm vaguely across the room towards the door. “Get him out. Out! S’my party! Out!” “I thought you said Mr Epitome could stay?” Al B. asked in a puzzled tone. “Actually I think he was pointing at G-Eyed, master,” Flapjack clarified. “How do we know this isn’t all a trick?” Visionary wondered, staying clear of the paragon of power. “Some ruse to dupe us all again and hit us with more IRS inspections?” Mr Epitome turned to Hatman. “Look, I didn’t come to cause trouble. I’ll go if you’d prefer. But before I do… according to my logs I held you in high regard, Mr Boaz. As a professional and as a man. I wouldn’t like any… misjudgement I might have made to sour our relationship.” The capped crusader looked Epitome up and down. “Well, I guess we all make mistakes sometime,” he agreed. “Lord knows I’ve made a few in my time. Like letting Tricky pick the venue and Dream book the entertainment tonight.” He reached out and shook Epitome’s hand. “Yo is to be delighted to be we all make friends now,” Yo beamed. “To be excusing me please. Yo is thinking is to be Rabito stuck behind the juke box.” “That would explain the strange discontinuities in audio output that have been perplexing me,” the Manga Shoggoth noted. “And why we’ve had the start of Sweet Dream Are Made Of This seventy-one times,” Vizh reasoned. “Ah, stick around, Epitome” De Brown Streak sighed. “If we can stomach Goldeneyed being here we can stomach you.” “I feel so warm and fuzzy,” Mr Epitome told the sepia speedster. “See? Yo was knowing you would be,” came a voice from behind the juke box. “Actually, from DBS that was a positive endorsement,” Hatman told the man of might. “So you’ll stay?” He waited a moment then slipped in, “And you’ll be rejoining the Legion?” Just then the bar door burst open and Sexy Olivia arrived with the pastry selections. “I knew this was a bad idea,” Mr Epitome repeated. Outside it began to rain frogs again. “All I’m saying is,” slurred Amy Aston, waving her shot glass at the bride to be, “All I’m sayin’… is you may be a stuck-up Barbie what can’t keep her pants on for more than two minutes and looks down her nose at mere mortals who have to cope with, y’know, arm-waxing and hangovers and bra-strap lines, but good luck ta ya! I mean it! I hope you’re really, really happy! Happeee!” “Why thank you,” Uhunalura said, a little taken aback. “And for my part, I’m very pleased to receive the best wishes of an inebriated, socially-ignorant, badly coiffeured grease monkey.” “Don’t mind her,” Miss Framlicker suggested to the bride. “She’s just a little unhappy because she wasn’t allowed to go to the stag party.” “If I don’t go, nobody goes,” said Lisa firmly. “They just serve better drinks at those things,” Amy hiccupped. “And there’s always plenty of men to dry you binks.” “She’ll drink herself to the singing stage in a little while,” Miss F advised. “And then she’ll sleep.” “Thank you for inviting us to your pre-nuptial ceremony also,” Sayaana of Caph declared, on behalf of the nine green-skinned ex-slavegirls who were at the bridal shower. “If you require help in being oiled and prepared to receive your master we would be pleased to assist.” “Maybe later,” Dancer suggested tactfully. “Yes, perhaps,” Uhuna agreed, thoughtfully. “May you bring delight to your lord and wax fertile that his House may increase,” Sayaana proclaimed. “I just bought you a card,” admitted Beverly Campbell, spiffy’s secretary. “But I hope if you want to wax fertile you do, I guess. Asil thought things were going pretty well. Nobody had killed anybody yet. There had been a close call when Yuki had confronted Amber St Clare about the requisition forms to get her ruined jacket replaced again, but fortunately Amber had been more turned on than intimidated by a purple-haired cyborg threatening where she was going to stuff the invoices. Uhuna finished her round of the room, taking time to thank each guest for coming and for their advice and gifts. “I think I need the bathroom again,” she confided. “And this time not to meet Suresnout. That champagne makes my nose all tingly but I have to find a working toilet stall.” “Use the facility on the landing,” advised Hallie. She’d been working on her colour problems but so far she’d only managed to add a vertical purple stripe down her middle. The princess slipped out of the party, across the stairwell, and through the door which had the icon for a human female public convenience. Regret was waiting for her there. “Hi,” the demonic temptress greeted her rival. “Congratulations on the wedding thing.” “Thanks,” Uhuna said, having no idea who she was talking to. She splashed some water on her face. Suddenly she was feeling hot. “William’s a nice guy. I hope you’ll be very happy, despite everything.” Uhuna looked up. “You know Bill? And what do you mean, despite everything?” “I know Bill intimately,” Regret shrugged, casually. “He was in my bed just last night. Discussing you, in fact.” “He what?” Uhuna paled. “When he was in hell. He rescued me, gave me his demonic palace to live in, safe from harm. Naturally, I was very grateful.” The princess frowned at the stranger. Regret was tall and brown, with long black hair that coiled to perfection down to her waist. “Who are you?” the princess demanded. “I’m William’s mistress,” the temptress said. “I’m called Regret.” “Bill doesn’t have a… what you said,” Uhuna declared. “I know Bill. He wouldn’t cheat.” “He’s a man. He thinks about it all the time,” replied Regret. “Just like you do. It’s natural.” “He might think about it, but he wouldn’t do it.” “When he was done with me, he was certainly in a hurry to get back to you,” the temptress admitted. “He really wants to marry you, despite everything.” “Everything? What everything?” “Weren’t you listening to any of the songs tonight?” Regret smirked, puzzling Uhuna more. “Anyway, I just wanted to meet you. And to say I don’t mind sharing, if that’s what William wants.” “Sharing what?” Uhuna demanded. “Him,” Regret said. “If he wants to bring you to our infernal kingdom below, when he claims his power and becomes one of the lords of hell, I don’t mind. I’m open to it.” “Lord of hell?” “Don’t you read a paper? These last few days, since William returned to your world, there’s been all kinds of weird things happening. Bleeding walls, oozing sewers, rains of creatures, possessions, the whole shebang. That’s William’s power, seeping from him. It’s too much to contain here on your world, without causing these kind of effects.” “Xander worked to cleanse Bill of that demonic power.” “Xander knows it can’t be done,” Regret shot back. “I bet he said something like, ‘Everything that can be done is now accomplished’ or something, didn’t he? He’s good at lying without lying, is the sorcerer supreme.” Uhuna shuddered with horror. “Bill is… infected with the power of a hell-lord?” “Oh yeah. He chose to keep it all for himself. Now he owns a plot of prime abyssal real estate, all the territory from the Agony Mountains and the Gorge of Regret to the Disharmony Spire and the Yearning Bridge where the Mewlips dance. And hell-lords aren’t able to stay on Earth for very long. It’s not allowed.” “Bill isn’t a demon.” “Well, not yet,” agreed Regret. “But give him time to grow into the job. The point is, the longer he stays on Earth the worse these supernatural side-effects will become. Today it’s rains of frogs. Next week it’s fleshgaunts and ur-crawlers. A month from now, a major infernal rift with a full company of demons, devils, cacodaemons, fetches, skins, grims, and grues. Inevitably he’ll have to move to hell. To move in with me.” “It’s not true,” Uhuna cried. “I don’t believe you! This is just another trick to try and keep Nats and me apart!” “No, you won’t be apart,” Regret assured the princess. “Not if you don’t want to be. You can be with us forever. Hey, we might even find ways of making it fun. You're pretty cute. What do you say?” “I say…” hissed Uhunalura Amalandriana Excelsior!, “that you can…” The door opened and Dancer peered her head round the door. “Are you okay?” she asked. “Only you seemed gone for a long time, and I was worried about the wedding nerves and whether you’d fled into the night and stuff.” Uhuna glanced around the bathroom. Regret had gone. But her words lingered. It was a beautiful clear blue day in Off-Central Park. Commission Don Graham’s officers had cordoned off a section down between the heroes memorials and the lake, and the wedding was set up there. A number of the heroes had laboured ever since the wedding breakfast to make sure everything was in order. Dancer helped Mr Papadapopolis with the catering (since it was Sarah’s day off). Vizh was detailed to make sure that NTU-150 didn’t improve the sound system. Trickshot was on guard against Chad and Ronnie. Mumphrey time-shifted everyone’s hangovers two hours into the future. “And you, Alaric B. Harper,” Miss Framlicker said sternly, “can put that device down and take your seat. They’ll be here any minute.” “Don’t interrupt him,” said a gritty voice in the administrator’s ear. She whirled round to find the Dark Knight peering over her shoulder. “This big a gathering of superheroes is a perfect target for attack. I need Harper to isolate the source of these psychothaumaturgic surges that have been plaguing the city.” “And I’ve got it narrowed down,” the archscientist contributed. “It’s somewhere close to this area.” “Never mind that now,” Lisette called. “Nats’ car is arriving.” “Big deal,” sulked Kerry Shepherdson, who like the rest of the Juniors hadn’t been allowed to last night’s adult parties. But even she was slightly impressed that Mumphrey’s vintage Rolls Royce flew down, hefted by Nats’ telekinesis. Flapjack left the driver’s seat and opened the door. CrazySugarFreakBoy! was the first out, a formal tux over his neon green and dayglo orange silly-suit. Bill Reed himself emerged next, then flanked by Hatman and Goldeneyed they processed down the aisle to join Reverend Mac Fleetwood at the altar. “Don’t worry,” the Librarian assured the nervous groom. “The wedding licenses are all in place.” “And the floral arrangements are delicious,” added the Manga Shoggoth. “How long is this going to go on for?” grumbled J. Jonah Jerkson. “I only put a dollar fifty in the meter.” “Why is Nats still clothed?” wondered Kaara of Jaaxa, another Caphan ex-slave exile. “When’s the buffet?” wondered Ham-Boy. “What will the bride be wearing?” countered Fashion Accessory. “I hope it has Kirby dots.” “See, Dominic,” woofed Glory happily, “It was a good idea for you to come after all. And I’m sure that Nats and Uhuna will be very excited about the juicer we got them. They will be at it all night.” “I suspect they might be,” Mr Epitome agreed with the mutt of might. “I mislike me this weather,” Donar confided to his son Harlagaz. “Feelest thou that pricking, as of the reeking forces of the netherworld seeking to wrest control of nature from us?” “How much didst thou drink last night, dad?” wondered Gaz. “No, I can feel it too,” Liu Xi worried. She turned to her mentor Ebony of Nubilia. “Like a long, sustained high electronic shriek?” “The psychic tides are high,” the priestess of the Manga Shoggoth conceded. “Perhaps that’s what you’re perceiving.” “We’re pickin’ up a trans-spatial disturbance at th’ perimeter,” Dan Drury of SPUD warned, pointing to a sudden glow at the entrance to the enclosure. Goldeneyed probed the teleportation energies with his own gift of manipulating space. “Relax,” he told the agents, “It’s Suresnout, the teleporting Abhuman war-pig.” “Oh yeah, Relax,” breathed Drury, chewing on his stogie. “Incoming giant war-pig.” Lisa took a firm grip on her ginger cat before it tried to hunt the fifteen foot long porcine. Suresnout burst through the time/space barrier and deposited the passengers that were touching him onto the grass. Sir Mumphrey Wilton took Uhuna by the arm while Dancer, Yo, Hallie, and Asil formed up behind them. Lisa nodded and Vizh released Enty to start the wedding march. The bride marched beneath the arches of spiffy’s fern towards Nats at the altar. Bill stood in awe at how beautiful Uhunalura looked. He would always remember her just like that, his bride, radiant in the sunlight. “Friends,” Reverend Mac Fleetwood began. “We are gathered here today…” Then the discordant twang churned the park up, scattering the folding seats and sending the heroes tumbling as if in a hurricane. As Nats grabbed Uhuna before she could be tossed away too some strange detached portion of his mind recognised the chords for I Wanna Kiss the Bride. Suddenly the sounds slurred, like a record at the wrong speed, and the tumbling guests slowed down so they were being blown away at half speed. Nats looked round to see Sir Mumphrey Wilton lying on the floor clutching his temporal pocketwatch, mitigating the sonic effect to allow some of the heroes to act outside time. “Over there!” pointed Lara Night. Lightning arced from her hand and grounded itself in the denim-clad musician who was now suddenly visible. “Chronic!” gasped Yo. “But you were not to be RSVPing.” De Brown Streak raced up to relieve the undead musician of his demonic guitar and was hammered away. Hatman pulled on his Sonics cap to try and counter Steve’s effects. Knifey shimmered through the air and would have gone straight through Chronic’s heart had the devil’s guitar not twitched to cover the spot. As it was the sentient knife lodged in the instrument’s neck, and Steve bled. That gave Goldeneyed his chance. He grabbed Nats and teleported them both on top of the musician. Nats channelled his fury into one telekinetically enhanced punch that ploughed Chronic six feet deep into the ground. “Nice one,” CSFB! approved, bounding up. he stared down the hole. “That’s awfully deep!” “It is now,” declared Liu Xi. Her spatial void powers had extended the pit so it seemed miles away. “Excuse me,” the Manga Shoggoth said politely, oozing out of his tux and dripping down the hole. “I believe I am required as an insulating medium.” “Semi-cute Shoggoth has to be enveloped of Chronic,” Yo reported, watching from the top of the hole. “Cute-Lisa?” The first lady of the Lair Legion wickedly handed her cat off to Visionary and called out, “I summons Chronic and the Shoggoth!” The captured, enveloped musician appeared before the amorous advocatrix. Knifey slipped out of Steve and oozed down through the gelatinous mass until he dropped on the turf and could be retrieved by ManMan. “Want to tell us what the hell all this was about?” demanded Nats angrily to the barely conscious prisoner. “Gotta stop th’ wedding,” Chronic mumbled. “I object.” “Stop the wedding?” Uhuna repeated. “Why?” “You know why,” Chronic told her. “And so does he.” The ooze-bound musician gestured feebly to the other end of the aisle, where Xander the Improbable stood in his shabby red robes. “Xander!” Sir Mumphrey barked. “What is the meaning of all this?” “It means there’s no other way,” the master of the mystic crafts admitted. “I’m sorry, I tried, but this is the best of all possible alternatives.” “What is he talking about?” demanded Yuki. “It’s always like this for the newbies,” De Brown Streak warned her. “Nats,” the Dark Knight said suddenly, as he pieced everything together. “He brought back the hell-lords’ power inside him, and he’s been the source of the weird phenomena building up over the last few days.” “I didn’t do anything,” Bill Reed objected. “It was probably spiffy.” “Hey!” objected Mark Hopkins. “No, it probably was,” Banjooooo considered. “It’s six degrees of blame, the spiffy game.” “Explaineth the plot, yon DK,” Donar demanded. “Why hast this vilest felon despoiled yon happy occasion, and why shouldest I not rippeth his head off and placest it up his hindermost quarters?” “You and whose army, Donut?” demanded Chronic, feebly. “Nats isn’t able to remain on this physical plane for long while he’s carrying that power, right?” the Dark Knight continued. “He’s effectively a hell-lord right now, and they belong in hell.” “Correct,” said Xander. “What’s that got to do with stopping our wedding?” Uhunalura demanded. “I love Bill. I know about his condition. I know where he has to go. I’ve had the banshee’s warning and all the omens. It doesn’t matter. I love him. I’ll go with him.” “For better or worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, so long as you both shall live,” quoted Sir Mumphrey Wilton. “Is that the problem, Xander?” The sorcerer supreme nodded. “Marriage is a contract. And hell-lords have a special affinity for contracts.” He turned to an area where the grass seemed grey and dead. “Don’t they, Sage Grimpenghast?” The teacher of deceptions dropped the cloaking field that kept him and Regret unnoticed. “There!” Liu Xi spat. “I knew there was something!” “Hell lords,” scowled Kerry. “Flammable? Or do I need explosives?” “If Nats marries Uhuna now, she will be binding herself body and soul to a scion of hell,” the Manga Shoggoth considered. DK nodded. “I always swore that Marriage was Evil.” “I don’t care,” Uhuna said, beginning to weep. “I love Bill, and I’ll go with him wherever he has to go.” She glanced miserably at Regret. “Whatever he has to do.” Nats followed the look. “No,” he said. “No, you wont go with me.” “For Nats ist not going,” Donar declared. “Yon foul fiend art not takething thee anywhere, lest he feels Mjalcolm upsideth his head!” “If Nats doesn’t go to hell, then hell comes here,” Xander shouted, cutting across the chaos. “It’s as simple as that. And Grimpenghast isn’t here to take Nats. He’s here to encourage Nats to stay on Earth.” “So that more and more demons can bleed in,” realised Nitz the Bloody. “Not good. Very not good.” “On the other hand,” said Regret, speaking at last, “I am here to escort my lord to his infernal kingdom. It might sound terrible, but there’s much good he could do there. There are some souls… some people… Well, not everyone who’s caught in hell necessarily deserves it by modern standards. Nats could help some of them.” She glanced at the flying phenomenon. “I’d help you, William.” “I’ve suddenly worked out why I’ve been getting these Buffy tunes in my head,” CSFB! realised. “Because Buffy art hot?” Donar suggested. “Not as hot as Willow,” protested the Dark Knight. “Er, I mean, Nats’ subconscious is shaping his powers here. And Nats is a big Buffy fan. He’s too dangerous to be allowed to stay on this plane.” “We can’t just let him go to hell,” Hatman protested. “He’s one of us.” “And you’re a demon,” Mac Fleetwood said to Grimpenghast, raising a cross to the master of lies. “That’s for vampires, little clergyman,” scorned the hell-lord; but he didn’t come closer. “Nats might be one of us,” Miss Framlicker pointed out, “but he was sent to the abyss as a sacrificial pawn to become a hell-lord.” She turned accusingly. “Wasn’t he, Xander the Improbable?” “You did send Nats to collect that essence,” Al B. admitted. “You must have known it was a risky proposition.” “He’s known ever since the Necromancer General’s divination,” Nitz accused. “He set Nats up to take the fall. Literally.” “Yes,” agreed Xander. “I did. It was an awful thing to do. I’m sorry Nats. The other options were all worse. This… this only destroys one life.” He glanced at Uhuna. “Or two, if you choose to wed.” “I’m marrying Bill,” Uhuna insisted. “I love him!” “I love you too, Uhuna,” Nats promised her. “And that’s why I can’t marry you today. I can’t drag you into this. I can’t put you through it.” “Nothing can be worse than losing you, Bill!” the princess wept. “It can,” Regret told her. “You know naught.” “Shut up!” Nats told the temptress. “Uhuna, you have to understand. I have to go. I have to try and make something good come out of this.” “We’ll fight for you, man, if you want to stay,” Sir Mumphrey told him. “The next time you meet Nats,” predicted Sage Grimpenghast, “you will be on opposing sides.” “Sorry to bust up your wedding, Nats dude,” Chronic told the new-fledged hell-lord. “But I thought you’d better know.” “Yeah, thanks a bundle,” Nats told him. “You want a road trip with me, Chronic? This ain’t no technological breakdown.” “Yeah, I’m in,” Chronic said, slipping through the Shoggoth and joining Nats and Regret. “Bill!” shrieked Uhuna, as Lisa and Yo held her back. “Bill!” “I’m sorry,” Bill Reed told her. “Time to go,” Chronic said. He hefted Steve and strummed the opening bars of Bat Out of Hell. Nats, Chronic, and Regret vanished in a burst of hellfire. “Well, I must be going,” Sage Grimpenghast sighed. “I have to go plot the downfall of Bill Reed now, since he’s determined to be my rival.” He glanced over at Xander. “A hellishly clever day’s work, sorcerer supreme. Worthy of me.” The master of the mystic crafts turned away as Grimpenghast departed. The wedding guests stood in the middle of the circle of devastation while Lisa comforted the weeping Uhuna and wondered what to do next.  More on the wedding breakfast from Killer Shrike in Wedding Day Blues (And Greens and a Bit of Yellow).More on heartbroken Uhuna in The Intermittent Adventures of De Brown Streak and Uhuna: Now With Added Abhuman Sex-Princess by DBS, in Adventures In Parodyverse: Double Knot by AnimeJason, and in The Intermittent Adventures of De Brown Streak #19 – Now With Added Guest Writer!!! by Dancer. Next: It’s our nearly-all-villains issue, as the most powerful villain in the Parodyverse gets his own spotlight story for the first time ever, complete with romance, betrayal, and very large craters. That’s in Bride of the Parody Master. Any guesses who the not-too-happy bride is going to be? And then: At last we move onto our espionage thriller arc, kicking off with Untold Undercover Tales of the Lair Legion: Plots and Ruses, when the Lair Legion follow up on the Wastelands radiation theft, Mumph and Asil investigate a murder, and Justus Screwdriver brings in some new help. Here Comes the Footnotes: The Parody Master is indeed one of the Legion’s oldest and arguably their most powerful foe. I don’t know when his real first appearance was, or even which poster created him, but I wrote a debut story for him in Lair Legion: Year One #5, which I think covers most of the story essentials. spiffy did indeed host the Parody Master briefly in or around Untold Tales #37: Bluebeard’s Tower and Other Nursery Stories+. Respondents at the time complained that I had “ruined the Parody Master.” Special Guest Stars in this issue include spiffy (Mark Hopkins), fern-wielding President of rogue nation-state Badripoor Banjoooo, King of the Sea Monkeys Donar, Hemigod of Thunder, King of the currently-missing Ausgard Goldeneyed (Bry Katz), teleporting hothead with old grudges with Nats The Dark Knight (Greg Burch), obsessed shadowy crimefighter Messenger (Zaurius Angelheart), obsessed gritty vigilante Nitz the Bloody (Shawn Griffin) High Priest of Zeku Lara Night, elemental, a dimensional anomaly The Junior Lair Legion – Kerry, Harlagaz, Fashion Accessory, Ham-Boy, Glory, and Hacker 9 Liu Tzi, a teenage elementalist Ebony of Nubilia, High Priestess of the Manga Shoggoth Big Thick Eddie, a barfly and bouncer at the Fatal Toilet Dan Drury, Agent of SPUD Revered Mac Fleetwood, pastor at the Zero Street Mission The Global Guardians, formerly the Goofball Gauntlet, are a team of reformed villains formerly led by CrazySugarFreakBoy! and sponsored by millionaire philanthropist (and secret supervillain) Gideon Book. The Machine Shop is an alliance of criminal robots. It was they who extracted the radiation from the Wasteland northwest of Gothametropolis York, and in this chapter we find what they wanted it for; to sell it to the Mind’s Eye agent of international arms dealer Factor X. More on this another time. Cleone Swanmay is a former mystical being from the Mythlands, now caught on Earth and bound to Xander the Improbable by a shared life-force. Xander worried that Cleone might turn against him because of actions he was about to commit. Now we know what those were. Sneek, Grabbitt, and Thuggery are indeed the attorneys of Gothametropolis crime boss Harry Flask, the Lynchpin, and since the current Mayor of GMY, Velma Klein, was put in place by Flask, it’s no surprise that the same firm now represent the city in matters like getting rid of troublesome superheroes. Chronic was a drug addict wannabe rock musician before he gained Steve, the Devil’s Guitar. The bond formed between instrument and player seems to have persisted past Chronic’s murder, and indeed Chronic now seems more powerful than previously. There are very few things that can harm Steve. Knifey has just been proven to be one of them. Blue Hallie was caused by a minor misjudgement in an experiment of Al B. Harper’s which has corrupted the elements of her holo-emitters until new ones can be acquired, allowing her to only manifest images in the blue portion of the spectrum. The excellent story by Visionary on this subject is recommended. Dancer’s Marriage to ManMan was chronicled in Dancer #27 Sylverkrin of the Abhumans is older sister of Uhuna and wife of Brown Blot, leader of the genetically-enhanced race living in the Great Relief, Atticland, in the Himalayas. She has preternaturally tangled hair. The Banshee of the Lair Mansion wails on the death of a resident of the house. In this case she wasn’t exactly warning of a death so much as somebody going to hell; hence the different noises and partial appearances. Mr Epitome’s Memory Loss was recently described in Killer Shrike’s Epitome stories. Although he isn’t yet aware of it, he’s been memory wiped by a M/ELTZER Ray created by his former girlfriend Letitia Gahagan, the Idiom. We need to hear from Shrike if this is when Epitome rejoins the LL. Previous chapters at The Hooded Hood's Homepage of Doom Cast details at Who's Who in the Parodyverse Geographical data at Where's Where in the Parodyverse And in honour of the wedding, a number of posters noted what their gifts and advice might be, as follows: WEDDING GIFTS: Mr Eptome: A juice machine Visionary: "It's a toaster" Visionary explained helpfully. "Well, at least, I think it is. NTU left one laying around the kitchen one time. In any event, if you stick bread in this end then something pretty toast-like comes out here. Sometimes. But either way, you'll want to keep that end pointed at something pretty solid... the radar gun clocked a waffle ejection at 92 miles per hour. The radar gun is this part attached down here. You know, for convenience's sake." He smiled happily. "Enty sent me this one following what happened to my condo, but my insurance rates won't let me keep it." He considered the power core attached to the device. "Oh... and, um... you might want to keep it away from Nats's crotch until you think you're done having kids. Which is for the best anyway, as you certainly don't want anything accidentally getting pulled into this slot here." Amazing Guy: An empty photo album to put thier wedding pics in. Trickshot: A sex game. Goldeneyed: For the sake of putting whether or not G-Eyed and Nats like each other much at all further into question! A deluxe hardcover edition of "Flex Mentallo" for Nats, freshly teleported back from an alternate reality where it exists. Also, a Nintendo GameCube with a few Legend of Zelda games (note attached: "Uhuna - so you can have a little fun when you inevitably get bored of the poor guy"). Liu Xi Xian: Tijuana, only a step away through the closet door. That way they don't have to fly in a cramped plane or pay for a hotel. Yuki Shiro: Matching leather jackets. Looking up their sizes isn't a problem, she just has to break into a database or two and look up their last clothing purchases. Keiko Takashi: Not likely to be invited, but if she is she would give them something big. Like a house, or a condo. She likes shocking people with presents. Lara Night: Something very rare, very old, and very beautiful taken from some unreachable place, with a note attached saying that she hopes they will treasure each other for a time as long as the item existed. J. Jonah Jerkson: "I was going to give them an autographed picture of me shaking Nats' hand after the one time he did something useful (saving the Daily Trombone building from Onslaughter), but Adele, my darling, sweet wife (make sure she gets a copy of this, Sidney), insisted on something more romantic. So I'm shelling out big bucks for a collection of Commieslavian porcelain figurines, with dancing tractor drivers, red-cheeked babushkas, and cute little badgers kissing each other. And it's not even tax-deductible. Satisfied, darling?" Hatman: His and hers hats - " {- I'm with stupid" for Uhuna and "That's right, she's with me, wanna make something of it?" for Nats. And a Joss Whedon-autographed copy of the "Once More With Feeling" soundtrack. Dancer: I'm going to get Uhuna's sister to come to the wedding. Somehow. Doesn't matter how small the chance is. The Shoggoth will give them all 14 volumes of Love Hina, lovingly translated into Alko (Or Great Old One, as he usually refers to it as). Ebony will give them two links of a chain, carved out of a single piece of ebony (If memory serves, this is actually a traditional African symbol of marriage.). De Brown Streak: For Uhuna, some flowers from the slopes of Atticland. Should take me under an hour to get there and back if I don't get distracted. Mind you, there's a couple of very welcoming twins in Singapore... For Nats, um, yeah, he can have some flowers too. Lee Bookman (Not because he'd want to. But because someone forced him, too): A Book on how to have a happy marriage. Ham-Boy (because I assume the LL Juniors will be there): A ham. Chad & Ronnie (because they tend to try to crash most of the PV Parties): A Bracken Fern named Shirley. Because as everyone knows that Bracken Ferns named Shirley are the Ferns of Love. Not to be confused with the Bracken Fern named Mary which are the Ferns of Hate. Sorceress: My wedding gift would be a $100 certificate for MyPleasure.com and a library card. Trust me, it's a sizzling combination. Lisa: Plenty of kool-whip, of course, and three crates full of "wedding equipment". Sir Mumphrey Wilton: A house in Pierce Heights, complete with these newfangled bathrooms and one of those swimming pools Americans seem to like so much. "Be worth it in savings on the Mansion laundry bill and wear an' tear on the furniture, what?" The Hooded Hood: No present. He knew it'd only need to be sent back, the bastard. WORDS OF ADVICE FOR NATS: Mr Epitome: "Its never too early to start investing for college." Visionary: "I'm serious about the toaster thing. Especially since Miiri's giving Uhuna a rundown of the 75 most effective lovemaking positions for fertility..." AG: "LISTEN to her. TRUST her. Be partners in everything. Talk. If your mad, talk. If your happy, talk. Just talk. Dont keep ANYTHING inside. It's just the two of you now. Marrage is hard work, trying to put two people, the good and bad sides together. If you always talk it out you two will go far.(Side note from Scott, this advice is very true. We just did this this week and things are much better comp wise. Comunication = long lasting marrage. Non-comunication = problems) Trickshot: "I hope this doesnt mean the ball 'n chain wont let you play poker anymore! Dont ferget th' guys!" (Side note from Scott, Tricky's an ass. What does he know? LOL) G-Eyed: "I know you probably will anyway, but can you try not to screw this up?" Liu Xi Xian: "Always listen before you speak and things will go more smoothly." Yuki Shiro: "(censored heavily) and that way it will last longer, be more fun, and (censored some more). And you might want to clean up the drool." Keiko Takashi: "Never dredge up her past. She put it behind her to be with you because that's how she wants it to be." Lara Night: "Your work is exciting enough, and you and Uhuna know it...so find a way the two of you can just relax and get away once in a while. You'll both appreciate it." JJJ: Never, ever let your wife come to your workplace. That's your sanctuary, where you can rule your subordinates with an iron hand and find some emergency to prevent you from going with her to the "Save the Woodpeckers" lecture." Hatman: "If you're planning on staying out late, it's better to call and have her angry you're staying out then not calling and making her worry on top of being angry." Dancer: "Bill, she's the best thing that'll ever happen to you. Make it count." The Manga Shoggoth: I am not sure what advice the Shoggoth will give Nats, but I am sure that someone will be able to talk him out of the locked cupboard later. DBS: "Make her laugh. You're a natural. And tell her you love her at least three times a day." Lee: "Don't make her mad. In my reading, a theme that has come up is that a mad woman is bad." Ham-Boy: "What Mr. Bookman said seems pretty good." Chad: A series of hand gestures that Nats isn't sure what they mean. Ronnie: One word of advice: "Cheeselog." Sorceress: "In the words of many commercials, never let her forget she is a woman..and in my own words, an addendum: and as such, sexy and superior." Lisa: "If you aren't good to that girl I will personally transform you into a eunuch. Just saying." Sir Mumphrey Wilton: "Seen a lot of marirages in my time. Every single one's different, for good or bad. Don't expect anybody else's marriage. Make your own special. Enough said, what?" The Hooded Hood: "Love is important, but power can change universes." WORDS OF ADVICE FOR UHUNA: Mr Epitome: "Which one is Uhuna?" Visionary: "Be happy, and, um... with all that you may or may not have planned, you should drink plenty of fluids on your honeymoon." He blanched as both Flapjack and CSFB! opened their mouths to reply. "Let me rephrase that last one..." he added quickly. AG: "Hey Bill might drive you crazy but always remember you love him and he's trying. He's a very good guy. He'll be there for you no matter what." Tricky: "Now I hope he can still hang out with us guys on poker night." G-Eyed: "He's a good guy and he loves you a lot. Take care of him." Liu Xi Xian: "Never give up hope no matter how many times Nats dies." Yuki Shiro: "Try (censored again). I know it sounds unusual but trust me it works. Wear something durable when you try that though." Keiko Takashi: "Nats has an inferiority complex, that's why he's so easily tempted. You can make him stronger, and then you won't have to worry about him getting into trouble. Don't let him take the blame every time someone tries tempting him...it's not his fault. It's the tempress that deserves to be harmed." Lara Night: "It's easy to communicate when things are good, but when they aren't a lot of people want sympathy but don't really listen. Learn to realize when that happens and you'll never, ever fight." JJJ: "All the marriage manuals and well-meaning fools urge you to communicate. Tosh. Leave your husband alone (except for frequent conjugal sessions, at least at the beginning) and don't spend too much of his money. That will give you plenty of time to figure out how to be happy yourself. And provide lots of snacks at Super Bowl time. Hmmm. Maybe I should take over the advice column in the Trombone. Hatman: "He means well." Dancer: "I'm guessing you know what to expect on your wedding night, right? I mean we don't need to have a little chat?" Ebony will remind Uhuna that everyone is fallible, and never go to bed angry. DBS: "You know, it's not too late to have a last minute fling before matrimony." Lee: "Love him & suport him in everything he does. Then, everything will be good."" Ham-Boy: "You may want to open my gift first, it tends to go bad if not refrigerated." Chad: A series of hand gestures that Uhuna isn't sure if he said that he hopes that she & her new husband have a wonderfull life together or something pornographic. Ronnie: "Always know where the nearest bathroom is!" Sorceress: Words of advice to U-Lo: "Hey, you have met Bill?" LOL Lisa: "It's not just about sex. It's about lots of sex. Great sex. Break the furniture sex. People hunting you with pitchforks sex. Go for it, kid." Sir Mumphrey Wilton: "This'll be the second time I've given the bride away. Did it for my own girl back in '88, of course. But this time I'm sure he's a fine young man. Salt of the eath, bill Reed, and a hero in the finest sense. You couldn't have chosen a better, m'dear. He'll do." The Hooded Hood: "That which does not kill us makes us stronger." Original concepts, characters, and situations copyright © 2005 reserved by Ian Watson. Other Parodyverse characters copyright © 2005 to their creators. The use of characters and situations reminiscent of other popular works do not constitute a challenge to the copyrights or trademarks of those works. The right of Ian Watson to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with the UK Copyright, Designs & Patents Act 1988. All rights reserved. |
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