Untold Origin Tales of the Parodyverse #363: The Alchemikal Honeymoon, or Six Degrees of Visionary
Previously: Untold Tales of the Parodyverse #356 #357 #358 #359 #360 #361 #362
Cast descriptions in Who's Who in the Parodyverse
Place descriptions in Where's Where in the Parodyverse
Over 1000 previous stories at The Hooded Hood's Homepage of Doom
And in summary for the link-phobic:
Okay, let’s start by saying straight off that this is not the chapter you want to jump in at. If you’re not familiar with this storyline you might want to overcome your fear of the links above. If you’re not familiar with the Parodyverse you might want to let yourself in a bit easier than the penultimate chapter of one of our most densely-packed plotlines. Really. Sorry.
If you just have a life outside the Parodyverse board and need a reminder of where you got up to last time, here goes. The Dreaming Celestian has triggered an overwhelming Imperative that will force everyone in the Parodyverse to pick a side in one final, brutal, heroes vs villains Resolution War from midnight tonight. Various cast members have wandered off-piste as usual, so Aella and Hacker 9 are off to the Celestian Control Plane pursued, by Magweed, Griffin and Samantha. Danny Lyle is following Citizen Z into the depths of Herringcarp Asylum to find what is hidden down there. The majority of the Lair Legion are duking it out early with the Purveyors of Peril at the Safe prison. The rest are in space where Galactivac, the Observer, and the Celestian himself are having a showdown. Meanwhile, Hallie got tossed into the Storyheart in the Tomb under the Lair Mansion, and the only way Vizh could stop her from being overwhelmed and destroyed by all that data was by having lots of sex with her (“So she wouldn’t be overwhelmed.” – Lisa).
Risqué Content Warning: Those who prefer to avoid traditional Parodyverse double-entendres may wish to skip the first scene of this story.
***
36. Visionary and the Big Bang
 “What is happening?” Visionary asked, trying to catch up with the plot.
“You don’t know?” Hallie asked him, surprised. “Because… you were married, and you dated Miiri and that Vermillion Vex bitch, and you seem to be able to find you way around…”
“I was speaking generally rather than, um, specifically,” the possibly-fake alchemikal bridegroom clarified. “Why? Do I seem…”
The Heuristic Artificial Life Learning Intelligence Entity (who was so much more than that) hugged him closer. “Calm your male adequacy paranoia, lover. That’s not what I was talking about. Although I admit to not quite remembering how I ended up being… rescued by you. How did I end up in this position?”
Vizh thought hard. “Well, you sort of brought your leg over and…”
“How did I end up wherever we are, doing a range of Caphan fitness exercises?” she demanded more precisely. “I have some serious data glitches in my short and mid term memory buffers and worrying flashes of us being chased by Racoon People. And angry ferns? And maybe something with lesbian vampires.”
“Yes. I think we were seeing other people for a while. Well, being other people.”
“Except those other people were us and our friends. I was Helen the Greenhag. You were Sion Avery, who is cute when he’s baffled. Which is a lot of the time.”
“We went through that Door under the Lair Mansion, into the past. And then we were looking for the same door again in that past, to try and sort out the switching-off of the weirdness of the Parodyverse.”
Hallie traced the events as she re-logged them. “That unpleasant inquisitor chased us down and tried to kill me. Except I fell through the Door into the Tomb of Visionatus Improbablus and found the Storyheart. But then…”
“You were overcome with all the data. So many stories, finished, unfinished, archived, forgotten. It was too much for anyone, even you. So I… I came in to stabilise you.”
“Is that what you’re doing to me? Stabilising me? Slow and deep?”
“It was… well, they talked about an alchemikal honeymoon, a sort of mystic event where story and teller join together and…”
“You’re aware that was an analogy, right? You are being very literal right now. But don’t stop. If you give up now you could doom the Parodyverse.”
Vizh winced at the performance pressure. “I kind of liked Sion and Helen. They were like us minus the hurting parts.”
“Well, after you dragged me out of that witch trial torture cell, yes. Save me a bit faster now and harder.”
“Are we trapped in a Nats and Uhuna plot?”
“Have we broken any furniture yet?”
“We might have accidentally got married. Who knew that poor Nats was just a victim of plot friendly fire, too near the target zone when this was aimed at us?”
Hallie actually giggled. “This is the Storyheart, right? And the story always focuses when there’s sex or death. We’re keeping it from heading on to the death part.” She considered her restored short-term memories. “Five or six times now, in various ways.”
Vizh was just happy that the narrative was helping. “Is there anything else we should be doing, though?”
The woman tangled round him made some suggestions.
“I really meant other things about the wider situation,” her alchemikal husband clarified, “but okay, we can try those.”
“It was too much,” Hallie confided. “Innuendo aside, this place, these narratives… so many plotlines and character arcs and… I was lost. I was being torn away, scattered to random meaningless data. And you came and grounded me.”
“Well there’s not much in the way of furniture in here,” Vizh pointed out defensively. “Only that big tomb with my name on it and I draw the line at…”
“I mean you made me focus on… immediate issues. One compelling story. Ours. Now I’m starting to process all the rest in proper order. I’m able to format it. I’m like… the Goddess of CSS. And you know how to handle goddesses, right?”
“I’m trying, but if you have any more suggestions…”
“Six degrees of Visionary,” the AI said.
“Um…” the possibly-fake man prevaricated. “Do I know that one? Maybe you could show me on a Sea-Strike Visionary doll?”
“You, Vizh. You’re tangled up in very nearly every major story in the Parodyverse. If you’re not, then someone you’re associated with is. Or someone they’re associated with. Hell, it’s probably three degrees of Visionary. You’re like a portable Parodyverse narrative plug-in.”
Visionary certainly felt he was being plugged in quite a lot. He found that he could live with that. “We hadn’t realised that the Tomb of Visionatus Improbablus was where the Storyheart was lurking,” he reflected. “Now it makes sense of all those people chasing us and all the adventures we had to go through to reach it. We basically reprised the best part of the Parodyverse to get here.”
“It wasn’t the Tomb of Visionatus at the time we entered it,” Hallie corrected him. “It only got that name when a body was laid here.”
“In a different sense of laid,” Vizh worried.
Hallie used her extensive internet database to keep her man from getting put off by thoughts of possible death. She calculated that given the conditions of the Storyheart and the available amount of online porn it was probably possible to keep going until Earth’s sun finally went nova. Humanity had achieved so much. CSFB! would be proud.
Of course, naked people and innuendo in the Storyheart was bound to have some kind of effect on the stories it channelled. Hallie hoped the misunderstandings wouldn’t lead to too many hilarious consequences in the timeline.
“You said you were processing the stories here,” Visionary gasped. “Are you getting there?”
“Pretty close now,” she gasped back. “Oh, the data-streams. I’m trying, but I’m struggling to multi-task because so many of my channels are dealing with other input.”
Vizh tried to suppress a smirk.
Hallie narrowed her eyes. “I mean that I’m catching up on everything that’s happened between us, Vizh. Intellectually. Emotionally. I’m struggling with the conclusion.”
“I love you too,” Visionary told her.
“Oh…” Hallie sighed.
The ultimate story climax washed over them.
***
“…looking to become a denizen of the Parodyverse, where evil creators retcon your neighbours out of existence, Sea Monkeys contend with Butlers, Dragons, Despots, and Lawyers with 'loose morals', and the Titanic seems to sink daily?” a distant voice enquired. The tones echoed down long twisted passageways of dark stone, repeated over and over like a mantra.
Citizen Z dropped the lifeless, choked-out form of the madness memory she had been wrestling. Blundering Man’s head bounced once and then he lay still.
Danny Lyle watched the muscular form melt back into the fabric of Herringcarp Asylum. “How many of those things are there down here?” he asked. He tried not to sound worried.
“More than I can count,” CZ admitted, looking around for the next threat.
“But… you’re the Spirit of Herringcarp!”
“And yet.”
Another phantom voice filtered from one of the side passages. “A two year old WONDERMAN!!!!! HA HA HA HA HA HA !!! Now you will pay for turning me into a rabbit and taking away my kingdom! Now for your Jarviscosmic. ””
Danny frowned. “What was…?”
“Don’t try to make sense of it,” his guide advised. “That way lies madness.” She indicated the Escher-like tunnels that crossed and crossed again in the bowels of the Asylum. “Well, all ways lie madness I suppose.”
“Laurie, what…?”
The deadly woman in ragged black and luminous purple held up a warning finger. “Not Laurie. Not right now. You have to keep denying her. Laurie would die down here. Laurie would be consumed. Look out…!”
Citizen Z turned away from Denial and fanned out her short cape in front as if to shield him from view. A wash of lurid crimson light rippled down the hallway, altering even the sheen of the stones for the seconds it passed by.
The world tilted.
Paradox: The time has come. We must mount an assault on the Anti-Moderator!
Hornet: Say, what took so long? You did the last part of this series weeks ago!
Jarvis: I thought everyone forgot about it, but then Pietro brought it up.
Hornet: Oh.
Paradox: I'm afraid I can't come with you on this mission.
spiffy: Why?
Paradox: I'm too powerful. The story would be over too quickly. Instead, I shall stay here, in the House of Paradox, and make out with the CeleBabes of the Week.
Jarvis: Alright, fellas, let's get going.
Tomas: DRATS! I'll get you next time, Jarvis! And you're little Regulars, too!
Denial found his feet again. “What was that?”
The Spirit of Herringcarp seemed drained by whatever she had fended off. “There are many obsessions down here. Some are much darker than that. We need to keep moving. That way, I think.”
Danny trailed down a steep flight of broken stairs into a pillared room where half the floor had collapsed into deep water. “You think? You don’t know where you’re taking me?”
“If I ever did then I don’t remember now. This isn’t a place of coherent narrative, Danny. It’s taking everything I have to stay… stay something like me. Mind the plot holes. Can you deny that this gate is locked?”
“It isn’t locked. How are you picking our route?”
“I know I went overboard with the silly posts, but why am I being banned?”” a carving on the wall whimpered.
CZ ignored the Phantomhawk bas-relief and wrenched the rusty barrier aside. “I just know the way. How to reach the secret.” She gestured for Danny to follow her into the partially sunken tunnel. Brackish water lapped ankle-high there, foaming as if driven by an unseen tide. “Of course, it might be a trap.”
“A trap set by whom?”
“The Asylum. Or whatever is beneath and behind it. It snared the Hooded Hood once. Or made him.”
“There’s one way to find out, I suppose,” Denial decided. He sloshed after Amnesia, making his way by the dim phosphorescence of the highlights on her outfit. She used her battle-stave to fathom the flooded floor for a safe route.
“Just checking to see if my banishment is still in the effect”,” something bubbled from a grating in the corner. “Still in effect…. in effect…””
“Do I want to know what these voices are all babbling about?” Danny wondered. He addressed the speaker directly. “Who are you? What do you actually want?”
“In effect…”” A plume of froth-foam drifted from the decaying grill. “Methuselah is grateful for and admiring of those brave souls who put their access on the line to speak their minds. The courage of a free people is something awesome to see… to see… to see…””
“Don’t encourage them,” Citizen Z advised. “It hurts them to remember. And then…” She turned suddenly, snapping her fighting staff into its halves, and caught a silvery shape as it tried to grapple her from behind. Lurid purple energies burst through the entity, searing Firestar Artemis out of existence again. Danny denied that WhirlWind got near him until the Spirit of Herringcarp could despatch that phantasm too.
“Those ghosts seem like they should make sense,” the Hooded Hood’s son puzzled. “It’s like there are… were… backstories and motivations and all of that, but now there’s hardly anything left to deny.”
A plummy voice echoed from one of the rents in the crumbling ceiling, sounding like an old-time radio announcer being played back too slowly: “In the deep, dark recesses of the internet, malevolent beings have been let loose and escaped into the real world; now, a band of heroes must band together to stop their threat. By logging on and hitting a certain combination of keys, they are transformed into --- THE LEAGUE OF REGULARS!!!… Paradox, Tomas the Vision, Jarvis, NTU-150, spiffy, StriderKyo, Captain Marvel Animal, Lisa, Firestar Artemmmissss…””
The proclamation faded into hiss and then fell silent. CZ watched Firestar Artemis’ ectoplasm drip from her weapons and vanish into the dark pool at her feet. “The Parodyverse is absurd, but even it requires boundaries. The line had to be drawn somewhere. The things outside that… well, they had to go someplace. To be granted Asylum.”
Denial looked around the vaulted chambers with horror. “All the things that didn’t make the cut came here?”
“All the things that were too mad, too incoherent, too senseless. The things that shattered continuity. The characters that didn’t work. The plots that never happened.” Amnesia shuddered. “There are monsters here. I don’t remember them all, but I know there was some vast insane crocodile… And an evil thought… hare. Sometimes I think my not remembering what I experience here is a curse. Other times I know it to be a blessing.”
Danny trailed into another space. This one was no longer tiled with institutional green glaze or lined with weathered stone slabs, but was a natural sea-cave with stalactite pillars and standing water. The chamber extended far beyond the glow of CZ’s costume. It smelled of wet rot and decayed leather.
“Join today, or we shall crush you like the ants you are!” something whispered in the far darkness.
“My f… the Hood. Amnesia, how much does he understand about this place?”
“I don’t know. He wears his knowledge like another cowl, shrouding him.”
“Is he scared of Herringcarp?” Denial thought again. “Is it scared of him?”
“That’s another of those dark corners where insanity lies. You can look for revelations in the hidden parts of the Lair Mansion. Here you will only find madness and pain.” Citizen Z paused before a brass-bound door. “And this.”
Danny Lyle could feel the power of the sealed entrance. It brooded in waiting.
“I can’t open it,” Citizen Z declared. “I can only bring you here to make a choice.”
“What are the consequences of that choice?” Danny asked. “Usually I can kind of tell what will happen if I use my powers, at least a little bit. Just an instinct about the immediate future; not prophecy, more like… expectation. Like you know what will happen if you toss a ball or jump to the side. The Hood can see more consequences, cascading off into eternity. But here… I can’t read this door at all.”
“You wanted to find the power beneath Herringcarp, the dark counterpart to the gateway that the Lair protects. Here it is. You wanted to enter and seek a way to defy even the Dreaming Celestian. Here is your chance.”
Denial hesitated. “Amnesia?”
“What is it?”
“No. Are you Amnesia? Or am I being guided by something else?”
Citizen Z hesitated. “What else is there? You suppressed Laurie and Beth.”
“You tell me. Who is leading me to this? Amnesiac Laurie stripped of her torture-memories and somehow saved by the Hooded Hood? Or are you the literally the Spirit of Herringcarp, personification of this place?”
“Haven’t I guided you through the madness, Danny? Didn’t I save you from the follies?”
“Are you just setting me up for the big one?”
“Open the door, Danny. Save Kerry. Save the Parodyverse.”
“An entrance…” Denial reflected, “can also be an exit. What did you say was locked away down here, confined beyond the threshold of sanity?”
“Open the door, Danny.”
“Or what? What if I don’t?”
“Then the Parodyverse will end. We will all be destroyed.”
“And?”
“And I shall no longer shield you from the madness of Herringcarp!”
“Ah… now we’ve at it. The carrot and the stick. Now I see why my father wanted me to deny Laurie’s dominant personality over the Citizen Z gestalt.”
“Leyton could not have brought you here. Even insipid memoryless Amnesia would have become lost again.” Citizen Z’s eyes glowed an eerie purple. Luminescence bled off her, caressing the chamber walls.
“He wanted me to shut Laurie down so you’d bring me here. Then I could deny shutting her down and put you back in your box, Spirit. Laurie’s not asleep. You’re not in control.”
“No! Gah! Eatyourface! Don’t delete it! Never said that! Never wanted…! Banned… Anti… Votefor… Threads neverending… Who are you really? What do you…” Citizen Z clutched her face in her palms and staggered. The purple light coiled around her like snakes.
She stood straight again. “Yeah. Thanks for playing, Spirit. We’ll let you know.”
“Laurie?” Danny checked.
“Mostly. Enough not to be Evilly McEvilhead, anyhow. And can I say, ick and eew to wherever the hell I have led me?”
“It’s the doorway to, well, the final chapter I guess,” Danny estimated. “It might be a sort of one-way door. A door of plot-resolving character sacrifice.”
“Are you going through it?”
“Look around. I didn’t come down here for the picnic possibilities.”
“It seems to be kind of locked. With a capital Lock.”
“No it isn’t.”
“Ah. Well, as long as we’re not doing anything as legal as using a key…”
“You don’t have to come any further now, Laurie. I can head on alone.”
“Hey, it’s saving the Parodyverse. I’m part of the Lair Legion now, just like I always dreamed of being. That’s pretty much our job description. We have to line up.”
“Right then.” Danny prised the door open.
The madness surged forward. “Duck! Jam! I have the Paradox power! GAAAAHHHH!!! Don’t ban me! New moderator! New moderator!”
“There are no more Moderators!” Danny Lyle Denied firmly. His eyes glowed as his power welled up, searing away the eerie purple malevolence of the approaching spectres. “Never more Moderators!”
Jam and Marksman exploded. StryderKyo burst into flames that started a war.
The insanities retreated, recognising in Daniel Lyle an instability greater then their own. Denial and CZ stepped into the darkness beyond the Door. It slammed shut behind them.
CZ dropped to the floor, trembling. Fending off the storyshadows had never been harder. Danny toppled beside her, exhausted by the fury that he had pushed into his Denial.
A moment after, a young female voice said, “Well, it’s about time. I was getting a little bored.”
And Laurie answered, “Marie?”
***
“I feel like I should bring you coffee,” Visionary told Hallie. “Except we’re probably about a gazillion dimensions and centuries off the Bean and Donut. I’d even risk firing up Enty’s prototype Proton Injection Cacao-Dissimilator if it was here.”
“That’s okay,” the alchemical bride assured him. “Simulating drinking coffee would require energy. Movement. Coherent thought. Just let me lie here.”
Visionary acceded. He was remarkably happy but he might have sprained his everything. He shifted the bedquilt to cover Hallie, although he was enjoying the view.
“Where did I get this bedquilt from?” he wondered. And then, “Where did I get this bed?”
Hallie couldn’t help take an interest. She sat up, absently noticing that her hard-light form might well be a hard-flesh form here – the difference seemed negligible in the Storyheart. “This is your bedquilt,” she recognised. “It’s your bed. See the char pattern from when you told Kerry she couldn’t wear that fishnet top to biology class? And here, under the pillow, a fragment of chewed doom gerbil?”
Visionary noticed something else. A pair of Bean and Donut lidded foam cups stood on the floor next to the imported sleeping apparatus. Beside them a device that looked like a cross between a coffee machine and a portable nuclear reactor steamed ominously.
“Well that’s interesting,” Hallie noted. “I’m trying to create things here, too, like I do in my virtual realm. So far I’m not getting there.”
“Pants,” Visionary concentrated. He materialised his regular outfit, complete with green sweatshirt with a yellow diamond motif and a slightly-battered yellow overcoat. “Whatever I think of comes here? Don’tthinkofspiffydon’tthinkofspiffy…”
“You’re not thinking of me clothed, then,” Hallie pointed out sardonically. “Except for thigh-highs, apparently.”
“Um, I’m trying,” the possibly-fake matter generator promised. “I think I have to really want something for it to be here.”
“Really want my jumpsuit,” the AI advised. “Or at least really want me not to punch you on the nose if I don’t get my jumpsuit.”
Visionary accepted the motivation and managed to provide his companion with a mostly-not-transparent version of her customary clothing.
They rose from the bed and looked around the now cluttered Tomb.
“Could you stop thinking of things now?” Hallie asked him, stepping over the Lighthouse sofa and Vizh’s lethal reclining office chair. A bowling trophy clattered down behind her.
“I am trying,” Visionary promised her.
“You are,” Hallie agreed, “but I still love you apparently.”
“What do we do now?”
A jar of Kool-Whip shattered on the flagstones.
“Maybe wait until the soreness wears off a bit?” Hallie suggested. “We were trying to reach the Storyheart. Lots of people tried to stop us but we’re here. So now we need to work out why they didn’t want us be here, and do it.”
“Can we reset the Parodyverse? Stop it being a Normalverse?”
Hallie paused and concentrated. She filtered out the chaff of random stories and tried to take the pulse of reality. “Hmm. I think things have moved on while you were repeatedly saving me by a variety of methods. Stop smirking. It’s not big and it’s not clever. Don’t say it’s cold in here.”
Vizh wisely stuck to business. “What is happening outside, then? Are our friends alright?”
Hallie focussed some more. It was hard to pinpoint the exact spot in her storyline. “I think Baron Zemo has used a bio-lycanthropic army to… no hold on, it’s Dr Moo, and it’s a custard ray… or Devil Doctor with a lead pipe in the conservatory…”
“We can have more sex if it helps,” Visionary offered.
Hallie waved her hands in a warding-off gesture. “Banjooooo and Elyse… Meggan and Dan Drury… Bry and Laurie… Exy and Val… Liu Xi and… the Doomherald? Why did you mention…? Lisa and… wow. DBS and… also wow. You and Sarah, apparently.”
“That was a complicated crossover,” Vizh hastened to explain. “You know that. We were very young.”
But Hallie had already moved on, her eyes flickering about as if fast-reading pages. “Finny fighting Blackbird, DK versus the Crime Clown… Troia against Polypheme 1… Messenger and Mailman… Dancer and Magenta St Evil…”
“Hallie, you have to lock it down. Hallie, listen to me. Concentrate.”
“The Grand Cycle begins in the Great Relief… war and chaos on the rim of the Dead Galaxy… the Austernal Omni-Mind at the Gates of Purgatory… in his black barrow the Unseelie King is stirring …”
“Hallie. Come on!”
“Wilbur Parody… is dead. He was… pawn. His sponsor was the Dreaming Celestian who dwelt for millennia under Parody Island, who was exiled by the Space Robots for apostasy, who slumbered round a Cosmic Cube and caused the Nexus of Unreality to shift to Earth. The Dreaming Celestian is woken now, and has broken free from the constraints of his programming.”
“That doesn’t sound like a good thing,” Vizh admitted.
“He has reversed the changes Wilbur made to the rules of the Parodyverse.”
“Or maybe it is a good thing, then.”
“He has triggered the Resolution Imperative, requiring every hero and villain to fight to the death at midnight in the Resolution War that will end everything.”
“But probably not a good thing. How are the LL stopping it?”
“They have…” Hallie frowned. “Hatman, Dancer, and Donar were trying to recruit the Observer, while Galactivac battled the Dreaming Celestian. The rest of the team are taking on the Purveyors of Peril at the Safe.”
“So… a bit good, a bit bad?”
“Citizen Z – or her Amnesia persona – has guided Danny Lyle to the Door of Madness underneath Herringcarp Asylum. They have fought past the horrorwraiths and the memories that devour and found the other access to this Storyheart.”
“Um, other access?”
“Stories come from inspiration or madness. There are two Doors. We used the one under the Lair Mansion. There is another way.”
“Why is Denial headed… here?”
“That chapter is not yet written. But… the Celestian Messiah has appeared. At the coffee shop.”
That seemed entirely reasonable to Visionary. “He probably needed a crueller before he saves us all.”
“She possesses a key that can activate the Space Robots’ master control board in their Maintenance Plane. She travels there with… Hacker 9.”
“That little punk! Okay, so it’s all bad…”
“She is being followed by… Oh no!” Hallie shivered and turned to Vizh. “It’s Mags and Griff! And Samantha. They’re following after.”
“The can’t. They’re grounded, dammit!” the frustrated parent responded. “Okay, so we can fix this, right? If I imagine the kids here, they’ll come, right? I’m picturing them now…”
“Picture harder.”
“I’m picturing. I’m picturing!”
A beaver trap, a framed photograph of the Regulars, a Stetson, three cheeseburgers, and part of a giant robot hand appeared in the Tomb. No children arrived.
“I don’t think you can bring people here,” Hallie considered. “Their stories aren’t finished yet.”
“That explains the blessed lack of spiffy,” Vizh admitted. “How can we help the kids, then?”
Hallie looked around. The walls of the Tomb still skittered with writing, tale after tale flickering across the stones, event chasing event over carved lintels and coffered ceiling. “I believe we have to master this place, Vizh. Me the story recorder, you the story device. We have to set things up so the tale plays out.”
“What tale?”
“The untold tale of the Parodyverse.” The AI breathed hard. “The Space Robots are almost all-powerful, right? They were set in place when the Parodyverse was created to maintain everything and keep it on track. To edit the stories, I suppose. But they didn’t make the stories.”
Visionary caught on. “They can alter the stories, regulate them, even delete them, but they haven’t got any creative spark. They have to use the material they find; whatever’s out there. Even this Dreaming Celestian, all he was doing was picking out people through time and space to make up stories for him, narratives he wanted.”
“And this is the Heart of Stories! This is where stories dwell. This is the raw material before the Celestians get to trim it.” Hallie snarled. “Before the critics get at it.”
“What do we do, then?”
“You can bring things in here, right? You can emphasise certain points. So we remind the Story what the Story is really about.” Hallie took Visionary’s hand. “Come on, let’s review the Story of the Parodyverse.”
***
“Right,” Griffin warned Hacker 9. “Step away from the girl, you kidnapping kidnapper. I might look like a thirteen year old boy but I’m actually a mighty griffin. So beware.”
Zach Zelnitz allowed himself a moment of bafflement. He had hacked Extraordinary Endeavour Enterprises’ travel systems, augmented them with powers granted him as Herald of Galactivac the Living Death That Sucks, and had shunted the Celestian Messiah into the operating system plane that programmed the Celestian Space Robots. He hadn’t included three interfering children, one of whom he finally recognised.
“Samantha Featherstone? You’ve grown.”
“One of us is more mature,” Sir Mumphrey Wilton’s granddaughter agreed. “Still creeping off with girls, I see.”
Zach glanced back at Aella. “We needed to escape from lots of bad guys. I’m… not really sure where you people come in.”
“We come in to rescue your victim,” Magweed insisted, determined to support her brother’s endeavour; after all, he had helped her invade faerie.
“Back off, Hacker 9,” Griffin warned. “You heard the part about me being a griffin, right?”
“You actually appear to be…” H9 checked his datapad, “Visionary and Miiri’s kid. Boy, your DNA readings come with footnotes.”
Aella felt she had better intervene. “Hello?” she said, raising a hand to be allowed to speak. “I’m Aella.” She squinted at Griffin. “He’s right, Zach. He really is a gryphon. Quite a nice one. And his friend has faerie blessings. Sensible ones.”
“I’m his sister,” Magweed revealed, perhaps in refutation of her blessings being sensible.
“We’re here to free you from Zachary Zelnitz, Aella,” Sam assured the mermaid. “Say the word and we’ll taser him to oblivion.”
H9 shook his head. “I’m a Herald of Galactivac these days.”
“I know. I read your file. Read mine,” Samantha promised him. “Still want to try my taser?”
“Zach isn’t kidnapping me, exactly,” Aella assured her would-be rescuers. “He’s trying to help me.”
“He infiltrated mom’s systems,” Griffin accused. “He remote-operated EEE technology to bring you to this…” The boy looked around. “This wherever-it-is.”
“We’re on the plane where the Space Robots were built,” H9 supplied, in the manner of a nineteen-year-old condescending to impart information to his juniors. “Aella is the only person able to activate their programming panel now. She has a key that has been handed down for generations and it will only work for her. That unlocks the operating systems that can reboot and instruct all the Space Robots except for the rogue Dreaming Celestian. And they outnumber him.”
“You want to get the other Celestians on line to take him down,” Sam understood. “And then what?”
“Then I can really fix things,” H9 promised. “The greatest hack ever, patching everything that was ever wrong!”
“You won’t be doing that,” Griffin told him. “At least two other people had that chance before. Sir Mumphrey didn’t do it. Dad didn’t do it. If they knew not to try. it then it was probably a pretty bad idea.”
“Things like that always have prices,” Magweed advised. “It’s a nice thought, Hacker 9, but it wouldn’t end like you hoped. Things don’t go like that.”
“So, to summarise,” Samantha continued, “points for trying to help. Good plan to boot up Celestians, probably. We won’t be letting you hack anything else after that.”
“And how will you stop me?” Hacker 9 asked. “I’m here. Galactivac couldn’t hold me back. The Hooded Hood couldn’t. So a bunch of kids…”
Griffin pushed forward. “So you got a power-up from a guy who sucks in planets. I was gestated as Celestian energy. Bring it, Hacker-boy!”
Aella pushed her hand up higher. “Um, please…? If you could not argue? Only, if I’m supposed to be this Celestian Messiah, shouldn’t I get a say in this?”
“You… you think I’m quite a nice griffin?” Griff blinked, catching up.
Magweed rolled her eyes.
Samantha frowned. “Hold on. If this is that control-plane place, aren’t we all supposed to get guides to help us out? I mean, grandfather got grandmother…”
Zack looked around. “It is supposed to work like that, yeah. But I don’t see anyone.” He flinched a little as he wondered who he could expect anyhow.
“What sort of guide?” Aella wondered.
“Everyone who comes here finds someone who they love and trust to support them,” Magweed explained. “Living or dead, they get brought here for the time they’re needed. Like, I should be getting one of my mothers or godmothers by now. Any of them would be good.”
Griffin snorted. He pointed at Zach. “Great. We’re only here five minutes and already he broke the place!”
“Me?” objected Hacker 9. “I’m not the one who piggybacked on a perfectly fine transport carrier signal!”
Aella got between them again. “I think I see what’s happened,” she offered. She peered at the complicate stands of causal tapestry that nobody else seemed to be taking any notice of. “There was a previous guide generated who hasn’t quite finished yet. The whole process is hanging.”
“There’s a previous guide still here?” Hacker 9 asked. “You can read that? Diagnose it?”
“I can see it, if that’s what you mean. It’s someone called Exu the Doomherald, created to accompany someone called Liu Xi Xian. She’s gone home, but…”
“She drew a huge amount of matter from Exu when she was here,” Samantha recognised. “To save herself, to create a new body from whatever elements were at hand. She’s home now, but still made of Exu-stuff. If he was ‘let go’ by the systems here then she would probably die!”
“So he’s still around!” Hacker 9 realised.
He looked about nervously but it was too late. The Doomherald already had his hands around Aella’s throat.
“Hello there, children,” the God of Murder greeted them. “As I understand it, this young lady can activate the operating systems of the Parodyverse. If so, then I have some very specific instructions.”
***
“Where do we start?” Visionary asked.
“Once we’ve applied the innuendo filter?” Hallie smiled. “Indexing. There’s a lot of stuff here. We need some kind of route map. Shall I go for chronological?”
“I guess so,” Vizh agreed. “You mean back to the start of the team?”
“Well, I was thinking start of the Parodyverse, but there are quite a few overlapping and conflicting origins. Same with the LL, actually. Do I list them by where the stories fit in the timeline or what order those stories were planted in the timeline?”
“How about the order that will give me the least existential headache?”
Hallie examined the swirling data that rippled across the walls of the Storyheart. “Let’s start with the current top layer, the timeline that prevailed when we left the Mansion. So that would be the League of Regulars origin where Lisa got the Booke of the Law off Wilbur Parody and then joined up with Jarvis, Enty, and spiffy to thwart Peter von Doom’s debut. Let’s see…”
She brushed her fingers over some of the tightly-packed scrolling text, stimulating it to unpack:
This is the story of the greatest heroes of a very strange place on the far edge of the probability curve called the Parodyverse. It tells how they came to be, and why, and of the reasons for the plummeting property values of their hometown of Paradopolis. It contains the secret of the universe. It’s a tale of triumph and tragedy, but like most stories set in the Parodyverse it’s mainly a tale of ripped-off characters and marginally humorous misunderstandings. And like all stories it’s hard to know where to begin telling it.
We might start our tale with young Mr Hopkins, his scrubby hair brushed, his sneakers polished, his Bros t-shirt neatly ironed, arriving for his first day on a two week school intern programme at a great metropolitan newspaper...
“So even in this version, it’s spiffy’s fault,” Visionary recognised, comforted. If the ferned phenomenon was to blame then he wasn’t.
“But did you hear that?” Hallie questioned. “‘It contains the secret of the universe’. Right there, first story, third sentence, That’s what the Dreaming Celestian is so damned hot to get hold of, right? What sort of secret do you find out by having everybody murder each other?”
“How to get bloodstains off spandex?” Vizh shrugged unhappily. “What else have you got?”
“There’s some stuff that has slipped under the current continuity. I think I can dredge it up. Here…”
Jarvis: ...so, in closing, as leader of the Lair Legion, I hereby proclaim Hollywood V and Chronicler of Stories as our newest active members and Blundering Man and Marksman as the newest reserve members.
Blundering Man: Gee, thanks Jarv!
Jarvis: You’re welcome. You have monitor duty.
Visionary: WOO-HOO!
Jarvis: Forget it, Visionary has monitor duty.
Visionary: DAMN!
Visionary blinked. “Well, I remember the monitor duty.”
“All those hours playing Pong with me,” Hallie reminisced.
“With you? No, I was just using the built-in… That was you?”
“I was a new A.I. It was like I had a friend.” Hallie held up a cautionary finger. “But I didn’t do Tetris with you. You were a married man back then.”
The denizens of the Parodyverse watched as the evil and malicious Trolls of Doom, who consisted of Jammortus, Paste Pot Prick, BossPlaya, Much Of Byrne, and Uatu, tore down what others had so patiently and painstakingly built over so much time. They totally and irrevocably eradicated anything that even remotely resembled an off-topic post and completely smothered the fun and jovial mood of the once prestigious board. Where there had once been jocund revelry, there was now infinitely morose melancholy.
The Trolls, by some devious device or other, had managed to incapacitate Paradox and The Vision, thus taking control for themselves. The Parodyversians witnessed all this, and were dismayed. What could be done?
Nothing, as of yet. All the Parodyversians could do was flee the wrath of the evil trolls, being merely content to lurk about in the shadows.
“Ah, now, that’s interesting,” Hallie observed. “Do you see, Vizh?”
“That Trolls of Doom have to be fought? Give Donar enough barrels of mead and you’ll hear about nothing else.”
“No, not that. This story was placed in the fabric of the Parodyverse by the Shaper of Worlds, Carrington. This was where the Triumvirate started to plait the narrative into what we know.”
“Shaper to start the stories, Chronicler to push them along, Destroyer of Tales to see to endings.” Visionary had served as Chronicler for a day, though the therapy had helped him forget it most of the time. “I’m really overdue for another appointment with Ms Pfeffercorn,” he considered. “I mean, I think I’m coping and then…”
Suddenly, out of the dark, Fin Fang Foom leaps out of nowhere and squishes John Byrne with his twenty-ton foot! “Write ME into limbo by killing me off, will you!?!”
*Anti-Moderator runs off, Starseed grabs adamantium baseball bat*
Starseed: GAAAHHH!!! *beats Wonder Man senseless*
“Gaaah!” echoed Vizh. “Then something like that happens!”
“Sorry,” Hallie told him. “I’m having a hard time processing some of this stuff. It kind of… leaks through.”
“I noticed that when Wonder Man’s brains splashed over my coat.” The possibly-fake man checked that the cranial spray had vanished. “I never liked Wonder Man. I certainly don’t want to wear him.”
Hallie checked her database. “He was the guy who dated Lisa? One of the possible fathers of her child-slash-children? There was some kind of protest group about him?”
“Don’t even try logging all that,” Vizh advised. “He wasn’t even from this Parodyverse. Flaming Earth 616 characters taking our jobs and chasing our women!”
“There was a crossover with his reality eventually,” Hallie remembered. “Jocasta really needed to get over her boyfriend issues. But a lot of Legionnaires and associates weren’t native to the Parodyverse.”
“Yeah, our version of Trickshot was murdered and the guy who served in the LL was from an alternate reality. Lara Night comes from some other superhero universe. And there was that scary Keiko woman.”
“If I’m reading these stories right it was a lot more than that, originally. But most of the heroes were retconned to be from here, Finny included.”
Visionary looked up sharply. “Retconned? As in…?”
“As in the Hooded Hood was a busy boy back in the day. G-Eyed didn’t come from another superhero universe any more, he came from the future and was all mixed up in the Celestian Madonna origins. Heck, the whole of Arachknight City got dragged in and has now always been here. The Parodyverse is patchwork, and it’s not just the Hood who’s been embroidering in new fabric.”
Another example burst through:
spiffy, tyrannical despot of France, was in a foul mood.
“The trouble with ruling France,” he said to no-one in particular, "Is that it’s full of French people.” He paced back and forth across his Louis XIV carpet. “The lousy snail-eaters bowed down for any dictator who happened to be passing through for the last century, and yet *now* they fight for their freedom?” He let out a few choice curses. “Did they drive Hitler out? Nooooooooooo! But let spiffy take over, and suddenly the country sprouts a backbone!”
“I think that might have been Evil spiffy,” Vizh struggled to recall. “Or Anti-spiffy? I know Bubba was involved, but I was hit over the head quite a lot back in those days. But it happened in our continuity. People in France still call a backed up toilet ‘a pile of spiffy’.”
Hallie pulled her hand from the wall. “We already know that our Parodyverse is made of stories. We’re all matter or electrons, but also narratives, crossing and crisscrossing, interacting to make a timeline, living in the events. We’ve had lots of evidence of it from the very beginning. Consensus reality. Is every universe like that?”
“All the ones that we’ve crashed into, yes. Most were more… sensible than ours, except for that one that Space Ghost discovered with rampant pensioners maybe. Al B. said something about us on the far end of the probability curve? But Wilbur Parody shifted us towards more ‘normal’.”
“And you don’t like normal.”
Vizh denied it. “I have nothing against normal – if that’s what people want to be. But most of my friends aren’t ‘normal’ – they’re extraordinary! And I love them for that. Who would want ‘normal’ if you can have Yo or Asil or Miiri or Donar or Fleabot in your life? Who says that Mags and Griff have to conform to some kind of standard set by people who can’t see how amazing they are? Who cares if the Parodyverse doesn’t make any sense if there’s so much wonder and joy there? Um, what are you looking at?”
“Just considering if we’ve really had enough sex yet, that’s all. Carry on with your rant.”
“Well, it’s kind of hard to remember what I was saying now you’ve brought that up. But I think we need to find a way to save all our friends now, don’t we? We’re not Nats and Uhuna. Butdon’tforgetIwasreallycutelater.”
Hallie looked back at the walls of words. “Perhaps we’re going about this wrong. It’s not about indexing what has happened. It’s about making links to the things we want to happen.”
“Well, we might be able to figure out this Secret that the mysterious Creators of the Parodyverse supposedly set it up to discover. Maybe then they’ll make their clockwork custodians back off and leave us alone? But how to do that?”
“We build up the Parodyverse from first principles. Model it. Maybe then we’ll see a loophole to that kill-imperative or the thing that we’re supposed to discover amongst the ruins of the Resolution War?”
“Um, okay. But how do we do that?”
“What did we bring to get here?”
Visionary checked their belongings. “One of Quoth’s feathers.”
“A quill from a Raven of Destiny.”
“A clump or Rabito’s fur.”
“A manifestation of pure thought from the Happy Place.”
“A dried leaf from spiffy’s fern.”
“A manifestation of pure instinct from the Unhappy Place.”
“Enty’s Doorway detection mechanism.”
“We already used that, but I suppose we might want to blow something up.”
“Jay’s basic Hatman cap.”
“A link to Serious Matter. What else?”
“A CSFB! pokéball of impossibilitium chaos.”
“Oh, that’s going to be interesting.” Hallie looked around her. “We might have what we need.
“A flame from Kerry that won’t stop burning no matter how hard I try to douse it.”
“Improbable energy that can reshape the Parodyverse.”
“A very well sealed bottle of Shoggoth-salts.”
“Maybe we save that one for later?”
“Yes please. But what can we do with all the rest?”
“With that collection? We’ve got the foundations or a fair proportion of the Parodyverse. We’re really only missing the Gah! force and the Jarvis Cosmic and we’ve got the set.”
“I always end up missing one or two bits from a full run,” Vizh mourned.
“If we had them all we might be able to use the Storyheart to add in a few more narratives,” Hallie considered. “Ones that could help the Legion when they need it most.”
“If. I didn’t pack any Butlers or Starseeds. Otherwise they’d be busting my ass by now. Is there anything else we could do? Or… do we just have to go back to sex?”
Hallie thought about it. “We use your only superpower,” she decided.
“I have a superpower?” Vizh worried. “Is it eating crullers?”
“That’s more of an obsession. No, there’s one thing that fits you for your place in the Lair Legion above all others, Vizh. You have friends. Lots of them. And they know others. And when you call them, they come.”
“We already established that I can’t bring people here. Their stories are ongoing.”
“What about the ones that aren’t?” Hallie wondered. “What about… absent friends?”
“Ohh,” Vizh breathed. “Could we? Here, in the Storyheart?”
“Would it make a good story?” Hallie asked him.
“I’d read it.”
“Then let’s try.”
***
“The Hooded Hood is up to something.”
The diabolical Doctor Moo raised one eyebrow at Baroness von Zemo’s exclamation. “Well yes. He’s breathing. Of course he’s up to something.”
The Baroness’ frown deepened. “I mean something else. Something beyond his normal level of devious.”
Moo glanced back at the Council of Archvillains that was planning and co-ordinating the upcoming Resolution War. Right now the Lair Legion had unexpectedly sealed itself and a rather extended Purveyors of Peril inside a repurposed Celestian force field that had been set around the Safe Metahuman Detention Facility. Although it was not quite midnight and the Resolution Imperative was not slaving heroes and villains to all out war, both sides had decided to strike early. The Council was determined to take advantage of the Legion being mostly pinned down in one battle to gain advantages everywhere else.
“What has Ioldabaoth done now?” Dr Moo asked, sotto voce, then corrected herself, “Or at any point in his entire timeline in contingency for now.”
“I’m not sure. The Lyle spawn has something to do with it, and possibly that annoying new iteration of Citizen Z.” Beth von Zemo’s uncle had murdered the wartime hero called Citizen Z. She had taken the title to masquerade amongst the Legion for a time. The amnesiac remnant of Laurie Leyton had claimed the mantle now and still sought revenge against the Baroness who had ruined her life; that made Elizabeth nervous. Laurie had cheated by developing an intimate relationship with the Hooded Hood.
“How is Lyle reacting to the destruction of his mother?” Moo wondered. “My little sister did a good job there. Thorough and stylish, with extra points for involving your ex-husband in the matter.”
“Mumphrey is not my ex-husband,” the Baroness insisted through gritted teeth. She would have reacted further but she knew that the elder Waltz sister was trying to provoke her. “That was a mere retcon we both had to endure for a time. He got over it fast enough and is back to co-operating with that shlampe little sister of yours. But before that, they ended Madame Symmetry and rendered the Shaper of Worlds position vacant.”
“Without which there is no Triumvirate of Greater Office Holders and no way for them to act collectively to curb a rogue Space Robot. Yes. Good riddance to Symmetry. Never liked her.” Moo pondered for a moment. “I wonder who’ll run the Westminster Necropolis Company no?. There’s a vacancy.”
“Nobody,” the Baroness pointed out sourly. “After out little clash of ideologies tonight, the Parodyverse is disposable, remember? It gets shut down - and us with it. Yet the Hood is still up to something. Something more than his usual level of deviousness and manipulation.”
“The Imperative prevents him from acting against other villains.”
Elizabeth von Zemo gave Dr Moo a steady stare.
“Yes, alright,” Moo admitted, “It’s something we should be concerned about. If anyone can find a loophole to his advantage it is him. So what do we do?”
“We need information, and quickly. Are those three hags still cackling around the Destiny Carnival?”
“Hoki, Vesperine, and Morgosa le Fey?” Moo checked the espionage nanobots in the milk jug on the nearest relevant tea tray. “Yep. But… they have a visitor.”
“Who?”
Moo pulled out some control apparatus. Her nanobots were being coy and evasive for some reason. It was possible they were baffled. “Xander the Improbable!”
“The enemy! He is on the goodies team, isn’t he?”
“Well the goodies think so. He’s saying something to the three witches but… I can’t quite make it out. They’re not liking it. There is finger-pointing.”
“Never a good thing with magical types,” the Baroness admitted. “Alright, we can’t consult the weird sisters right now; and the Imperative precludes us capturing and torturing Clockwatcher. There’s only one recourse remaining in the time available to us.”
“Which is?”
`”We ask Ioldabaoth.”
The conference of the Council of Archvillains was interrupted by a tolling of alarms. Gideon Book looked up from his diagrams and demanded a report.
“Cosmic-level event within ten thousand miles of the Earth, sir,” his daughter Pelopia responded promptly. “Galactivac is here.”
“The Living Death That Sucks!” the Baroness recognised. “Is he attacking?”
The whole conference room fell silent as the sensors reported in. “Yes. But he’s being blocked. By the Dreaming Celestian.”
“The Space Robot doesn’t want him smashing the toys until the game is done,” Dr Moo proclaimed. “Assuming their clash doesn’t wipe out this solar system as collateral damage.”
More readings were coming in, slowly as if afraid to bear witness. “The Observer is there also. And… yes, Dancer. And Donar and Hatman, evidently.”
“The missing Legionnaires,” Book noted. “Yes, that’s what they were setting up. But why?” He referred to his tables. “That leaves only Sir Mumphrey Wilton unaccounted for.”
The Baroness’ paranoia did not improve.
***
“So we are in agreement then, Sir Mumphrey?”
“Don’t see another option, you festering goitre. Has to be done.”
Sir Mumphrey Wilton shook hands with the Hooded Hood.
***
“Get it yourself!”
“If I could get it myself I wouldn’t have used the Storyheart to draw you here,” Visionary pointed out reasonably. “Enty and Starseed and Banjooooo and Tina and all the others co-operated. So if you’d just use the Jarvis Cosmic to kickstart our narrative model of the Parodyverse…”
Jarvis, the battling butler, held up a hand for pause. “I’m still not convinced this isn’t some plan from the Man Who Wasn’t There or Hollywood V to steal my power for some nefarious takeover or other.”
“We’re a bit past that,” Hallie assured him.
“So you say. But you’re a creation of Baron Zemo, aren’t you? He might have set you on to this, with this Visionary-bot fake.”
“I’m real, dammit!” Vizh insisted. “Or at least, if it’s proved one way or another then the Parodyverse ends. There was a long storyline about it. After your time, Jarvis.”
“And you claim to be leader of the Regulars now? The Lair Legion? I thought we’d already investigated that very remote possibility? Did everyone else quit?”
“He’s our glorious leader,” Hallie insisted. “Lisa set him up. CSFB! framed him.”
“Ah. That makes more sense, then. Um, Lisa doesn’t happen to be around, does she? I can Jarvis-cosmic up some kool-whip.”
“We already did the sex part of the Parodyverse-saving,” Visionary insisted. “We’ve laid down all the fundamental forces – Gah!, Serious Matter, Impossibilitium, Corposant Fire, and, Yo-belief. We just need is the Jarvis Cosmic to complete the set. Then we’re good to go.”
“To go where?” Jarvis enquired. He looked around the narrow Tomb of Visionatus Improbablus. “Hey… have you seen this place?”
“Seen it, read it, ready to add a contents page,” Hallie assured him.
“Jarv, you have to trust me this time,” Visionary told the original leader of the Lair Legion. “This is the ultimate monitor duty.”
The butler sighed. “Okay. But no Pong this time.”
“We’re past the Pong stage,” Hallie breathed. “We have twins.”
Jarvis’ hands flared as he unleashed a fundamental power of the Parodyverse. The cluster of writings that Hallie held together on the wall glowed even stronger.
“Don’t mess this up,” Jarvis instructed Visionary; then he returned to his stories.
Jarvis: Need some help unpacking, Lisa?
Lisa: No, I'm almost done?
Jarvis: Sooo....want to join me in a hot tub and have some alcohol?
Lisa: Nah. You see, despite the running gag that I sleep with every guy I meet, the sexual tension between you and me is one of the main parts of these parodies.
Jarvis: Oh.
*muffled voice from inside Lisa's closet* HELP! GET ME OUTTA HERE!!!
*Jarvis opens closet*
Banjooo: HELP! UNTIE ME!
Jarvis: Lisa...
Lisa: What can I say, I have a thing for 75 feet tall sea-monkeys.
“‘The Death of Jarvis’,” Visionary recognised. “A classic. Though I don’t remember how it ended.”
“Concentrate,” Hallie scolded him. “Everyone knows the butler did it. But right now we need to get on with this storytelling. Who do you want in there?”
“For this Story? The story to save the Parodyverse? Everybody. It’s a team effort. It always is. We only work when we’re in it together. Let’s see. Start with Lisa, Yo, and Dancer. Toss in CSFB!, Hatty, Yuki, Tricky, all the people that pull everyone into a whole.”
“This is saving the Parodyverse,” Hallie pointed out. “Not your birthday party.”
Visionary shrugged then grinned. “As long as everybody’s there and everybody’s happy. Let’s go!”
***
“What time art it?” asked Donar.
“Three minutes to midnight,” Hatman answered. “Forty-five seconds since you last asked.”
The hemigod of thunder gestured to the two cosmic giants who faced off against each other over the planet Earth. “I art bored. Yon Galactivac and yon Blackened Celestian hath been eyeballing each other for a long time now for the nonce. When wilt the smiting beginneth? Hoi! You twain! Let the whomping commenceth!”
“I know how you feel, big guy,” Dancer sympathised. “I’d hoped to get some shoe shopping in before the world ended. You just know there’s going to be some great bargains at the end of everything. But here we are, observing.”
“With an Observer,” Hatman pointed out. “Hey, Utah, any further on deciding whether you’re allowed to do anything to help, to tip the balance of events?”
The eternal spectator slowly shook his big block of a head. “I am tasked only to observe. I may not interfere.”
“Even in the last chapter?” Dancer wheedled. “Or possibly second-to-last chapter depending on how complicated things are.”
“Even then.”
“Even if I wouldst whomp thee upside thy uncannily large head if thou dost not helpeth us out?” offered Donar.
The imprisoned Heralds of Galactivac floated past in their impenetrable force bubbles.
“It’s okay, D-man,” Hatty assured the Ausgardian. “There’s a plan B. Hey, Utah, when the important stuff is happening, what do the rules say about you being right there, not interfering?”
“The ordinances of the Observers allow it,” Utah admitted. “Encourage it, even.”
“Great. Then that’s all we want you to do. Be there when it goes down.”
“And let us hitch a ride,” Dancer added, with a thumb gesture and a smile guaranteed to stop any motorist with a functioning Y chromosome.
“That… may be possible,” the Observer decided. It was quite implausible that he would stretch his license that far; but implausible is not impossible, and that meant possible, and then it was just a matter of probabilities. And outside the realms of male fidelity and shoe-shopping, probabilities could be danced.
***
‘The Safe’ Metahuman Containment Facility had been built atop a vault designed to contain the Chain Knight, piggybacking on the formidable cosmic defences that had been laid to imprison that monster. Defences designed to inhibit him were now provoked back to life by Al B. Harper and Liu Xi Xian, locking everyone inside the jail behind impenetrable force screens, tangling and inhibiting the most destructive powers of those who were trapped.
The Lair Legion had levelled the playing field.
“They’ve cut us off from the bosses,” VelcroVixen shouted at her team. “We need to stay focussed and co-ordinated.”
“We need to kill them all!” Appendage Man screamed. “Kill them all and defile their corpses!”
Anvil Man detonated a prison block to release the inmates. “I’m being restricted to mid-level explosions, VV,” he warned. “Everyone out. Pick a hero an’ slaughter him!”
“But watch out for the fast-acting neural gas I’m spreading through the facility,” Silicone Sally added to the escaping convicts. “Anyone who doesn’t have an antidote already administered can go nap-time now!”
Razor Ballerina’s acid-coated blood-blades tore through the plastic playmate. “Poison? Against me?”
Yuki Shiro got in the way of a death-stroke. “Nah. Cyborg P.I. who’s not afraid of sharp edges against you, psycho-bitch. But watch the jacket. G-Eyed, Manny, HB, Plan Coke Delivery.”
Dr Roentgen flared his atomic energies about him, testing whether he could defy the Safe’s inhibitions enough for a full nuclear event. “You face us hurling bottles of decadent American fizzy drinks?” he sneered at the Legionnaires.
Ham-Boy muffled a radiation blast with a cloud of offal and tossed his missile. “Nah. We’re hurling coke bottles. But inside it’s all Shoggoth!”
The glass projectiles shattered and a loathsome sanity-shredding elder beast frothed forth. Tekke-li! “And also hello, limited mortal shreds! It’s slobbering time!”
CSFB! pinballed between villains, snaring them together in silly string. PsychoAcidPervGirl! somersaulted out to stop him. “Hey, bro! How’s April?”
“Good. Are you still seeing those Rita Repulsa rhino-men henches?”
“Nah. No staying power. I might take a pass at Pelopia.”
“Let me know how that works out, if you don’t kill me.”
The conflict became a running battle amidst shattering buildings and fleeing prisoners. The world’s greatest superhero team took on the varsity of the supervillains without respite.
“Somebody is going to die soon, if they haven’t already,” ManMan warned over his commlink. “Also, I think we’re about to find out what happens when Knifey stabs the indestructible Anvil Man. So maybe duck?””
“We’re almost ready,” Vinnie de Soth called back. “I’m just walking Liu Xi through the final connections now.”
“There’s outside interference with the energy barrier,” Al B. Harper warned urgently. “As if every genius mad scientist there is had piled their intellects together to find a way of taking it down.” He laughed happily. “Luckily, I’m me.”
Yuki chimed in with a situation update. “spiffy, Brass Money is activating a micro-pocket dimension on the west watch tower. He’s releasing reinforcements. I think it’s the Frightsome Four, the League of Losers.”
“So I drop in our reserves? Okay, Fleabot, go!”
The micro-robot burned off his reservoir of size-changing particles. The Junior Lair Legion assumed normal size and entered the fray.
“Children?” disdained Marker Man? “They expect me to graffiti infants?”
“Garbage Man has a flamethrower?” Kerry Shepherdson mocked. “Oh, that’s so cute! .” She was holding in a lot of very intense emotions right now regarding Danny Lyle and, well, everything, and now a supervillain was in her way.
“Things just went to the next level up here, Vinnie,” G-Eyed warned “I think Kerry’s about one comment away from going supernova.”
“The barrier’s going down!” Al B. warned. “Three, two, one, gone.” He didn’t sound dismayed though. “Incoming transmission from D.D. at the Moon Public Library received.”
“Yes, I have the co-ordinates,” Liu Xi confirmed. “I’m ready.”
“Likewise,” bubbled several dozen elements of battling Shoggoth.
Vinnie completed the transfer diagram. The Safe and everyone in it folded through space and time and vanished.
***
Thirty seconds to midnight.
“All is ready,” Clockwatcher confirmed. “As midnight strikes, the preparations we have made will slam Herringcarp Asylum right into the same space as the Lair Mansion, tangling the two on a quantum level. The Legion are away, deployed at the Safe and on the Moon. We still have over a hundred lesser supervillains and the entire Council of Archvillains to destroy whatever defenders remain there.”
“The Resolution War is upon us,” the Hooded Hood intoned. “All that remains is to ensure that the victory is mine.”
“Ours,” Baroness von Zemo prompted.
“Ours,” the Hood conceded. “Not the Lair Legion. Not the ‘forces of goodness’. Not the Dreaming Celestian. Only one outcome is acceptable: absolute triumph over all!”
“He does have the delivery for that,” Blackbird murmured to Boss Deadeyes.
“Ten seconds,” Clockwatcher called.
“The Dreaming Celestian has ordained that there be total war, with no restraint or mercy,” the cowled crime czar went on. “So be it. His Imperative sets hero against villain without limit. The time is set. The conflict is set. But the battlefield…”
“The Imperative ssssays nothing about that,” Vrykolakas admitted.
“Five, four, three, two…”
“The field of war shall be selected by… the Hooded Hood!”
“The Lair Mansion itself!” Thighmaster admired. “I say!”
The Hooded Hood’s eyes lit with an unholy green glow. The Portal of Pretentiousness reflected and magnified the light.
Herringcarp Asylum twisted through retrospective continuities to the Lair Mansion.
***
The Chronometer of Infinity chimed midnight. Its countdown timer ticked to zero.
“Now, Miss Chhabra, Mr Bull, Miss St Clare, if you please,” barked Sir Mumphrey Wilton.
Amber St Clare deactivated the safety interlocks on the Lair Legion Operations Room control panels. It was remarkably easy. Meanwhile, the newly-appointed Keeper of the Borders and the Dealer of the Deck of Destinies bent their efforts to the dimensional apparatus that Al B. Harper had set in place.
Flapjack slammed home the Big Lever.
The Lair Mansion twisted through parallel dimensions at Herringcarp Asylum.
“Miss Waltz,” Sir Mumphrey called across to the First Lady of the Lair Legion. “An ending, if you would be so good.”
A wicked smile covered the amorous advocatrix’s face. “Oh, I’m good,” promised the Destroyer of Tales. “I’m so good!”
Many cosmic forces across the Parodyverse saw what was happening and bent their wills to stop it. Then they realised what was happening and stopped interfering.
In a universe made of stories, almost everyone appreciated a great plot twist.
Herringcarp Asylum and the Lair Mansion slid together. A moment later the Safe and all its occupants rippled into the conglomeration too. At one second past midnight they were tangled together in dynamic conflict.
“Lock on,” came Hatman’s voice. “Bring it all to the Observer.”
“Quickly,” urged Xander the Improbable. “While the Space Robot is still busy with Galactivac. Kill yours enemies over here!”
The combined real estates followed the signal and finally manifested in a mutually acceptable location for the Resolution War’s final bloody battle.
The Celestian Space Robot shuddered as Asylum and Mansion appeared inside its vast brain-case, where the Observer had shifted to watch what came next.
The Observer had been forced to pick a side.
“We’re in!” Miss Framlicker confirmed. She’d locked the EEE firehouse into the transfer because she wasn’t missing this. “We’re inside the Dreaming Celestian’s dreams!”
“Right then,” hissed Lisa. “In that case, I summons everybody!”
***
“How’s that for a story, then?” Visionary asked Hallie. “We didn’t change any detail of what’s happened. We just…”
“Made it more complicated and confusing,” the A.I. noted. “It’s the Parodyverse way. And now…”
“Now comes the final chapter at last,” Visionatus Improbablus told them. “And sorry, Vizh, but you have to die.”
***
And in our definitely last chapter: Reprogramming Space Robots so you can rule the Parodyverse; when you just can’t get characters out of your mind; when subplots attack; holding Creators to account; dying to provide a proper dramatic conclusion; and probably a bit more, in Untold Tales of the Secret of the Parodyverse: The Curtain Call
And for your amusement: 1998 Visionary Explains the Parodyverse
***
Original concepts, characters, and situations copyright © 2017 reserved by Ian Watson. Other Parodyverse characters copyright © 2017 to their creators. This is a work of parody. The use of characters and situations reminiscent of other popular works are in fair-use parody and do not constitute a challenge to the copyrights or trademarks of those works. Any proceeds from this work are distributed to charity. 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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