After dinner, the Junior Lair Legion found themselves together near the library and compared notes.
“Sucky, just sucky,” Kerry Shephardson complained. “Not a decent piece of fried food or pizza anywhere. I got stuck sitting next to Odoona, who spent half the time flirting and the other half whispering to that old bat Elizabeth Zemo. What’s she doing here anyway?”
“She did help rescue us, you know,” replied Samantha Bonnington. “Not to mention all that stuff she did for the Civil Defense before she came over to see us.”
“You’re just soft on her because she arranged that photo shoot for you,” Kerry snapped back.
“That was just a nice gift, like all the other ones she was handing out,” the Fashion Accessory pouted. “I mean, you’re wearing those rose pearls she gave you.”
“Aaack!” Kerry exclaimed as her hands flew up to release the necklace’s catch. She stuffed the string of pearls into a jeans pocket and chattered, “I just forgot. They don’t look right on me anyway.”
“The Swedish Temperpedic foam dog bed she gave me looks very nice,” Glory said through her translator collar. “Chives took it up to my room.”
“I don’t get it,” whined Ham-Boy. “What’s an villainess who hates Kerry and blames us for blowing up her house doing giving us gifts? Does she think we’ll leave her alone the next time she tries something evil? Although the accessory kit for the Ham-Scooter was cool.”
“That’s right,” Kerry exclaimed, “she’s trying to bribe us. Keep us from challenging her.”
“Maybe she’s using them to spy on us,” Fred Harris speculated.
“Nah, not likely. I’ve scanned everything six different ways. And she promised Sir Mumphrey that everything was harmless,” Hacker9 insisted.
“Yeah, that’s a great assurance from a geek who’s playing the bootleg she gave him of NinjaCrisis. What is it, six hours now?”
Hacker9 refocused his stare, looking past the virtual reality display that his gadgets had projected in front of him. “So? I know how to stop. I can stop anytime I want. Why do I have to drop the katana to find out where the bushido warrior is? There must be a trap . . . .” He fell back into the game.
“So much for old iron will there,” Kerry muttered. “I’d flame all of her stuff, but I’d end up setting the whole castle on fire. Come on, let’s go outside. I feel like torching a couple of haystacks or something.”
“Where’s Harlagaz?” Samantha interjected.
In the Chinese Room, Harlagaz Donarson, hemidemigod of thunder, was ill at ease. Porcelain made him nervous – very nervous. He felt as if the mere act of breathing would cause a cascade of toppling vases and shattering curios. Any movement might turn priceless ceramics into white shards. Not to mention the overwhelmingly civilized tone of the room. It was a room that would make an Ausgardian warrior feel like a dung beetle if he dared to speak a single “smitheth” in more than a whisper. And here he was with a very blonde, very buxom Elizabeth, who his companions were sure was some sort of evil Baroness. Sweat began to appear on his forehead. Verily, ‘twere best to flee this dangerously destructible byre of eleganceth, and roister with the boon companions outsideth.
“Harlagaz. Harlagaz,” the Baroness called softly, trying to draw the young giant away from his panic.
“My lady,” he replied in a distant mumble.
“Don’t worry about the china, Harlagaz, just sit yourself down here so we can talk for a moment.”
The Ausgardian viewed the nearby chairs with distrust. Heavily carved with dragons and Chinese mythical symbols and upholstered in delicate silk, they looked as if they would collapse if he tried to sit on them. With an embarassed smile, he looked from the chairs to Elizabeth and back, shifting his feet.
Elizabeth picked up on the problem. “Why don’t you just come over here. There’s plenty of room, and we don’t need to be formal with each other, do we?”
Harlagaz beamed at the words “don’t need to be formal” and lumbered his way over to Elizabeth, who’s head was not very many inches above his belt.
“I am well confused by your boon invitation, milady. What requireth thou of me, to sever me from my companions?”
“I just need a moment of your time to present you with my Christmas gift, Harlagaz,” said Elizabeth, batting her eyelids at the young Norse hero.
“There art no need for such gift-giving, Elizabeth. Thou art not in mine deemed-debt, nor art thou a friend for whom bright-light gleams in the grant of a favor.”
“We fought side-by-side against the Hellraisers, and I am neither in your debt nor your companion?” Elizabeth extended her hand to cover Harlagaz’s massive paw, and was rewarded by a shudder from the titanic teen.
“No, I meaneth, yes, but, skallyoldigh, I canst not explain. Leaveth me to my sorrow, woman, and mayhaps I will pen a saga that someday willeth explain mine anguish. Or perhaps I’ll writeth a blog.”
“I think I know, Harlagaz. I saw the stripes Maladomini placed on you, and I can only imagine how betrayed you must feel. You feel you can’t trust me either, I’m sure.”
“Thou mightest be on it-eth.”
“Then I have just the thing to lighten your spirits. Open this.”
The Ausgardian adolescent tore through the paper and box and lifted his gift out. His eyes opened wide. “A snooker table. In elven size, though perhaps dwarves might chance it.”
“Set it down in the middle of the room here, and touch the ruby over the corner pocket.”
He did so, and the table slowly expanded to full size.
“It’s portable,” Elizabeth explained, carefully moving herself to obscure the “Enhanced by Hoki” plaque.
Harlagaz let out a roar. “Yon snooker is my favoriteth game of the table. A noble present, fair Elizabeth, for noble Ausgardians and Zemoes alike. Place thy stakes upon the rails, and obtain many Fosters’ cans for the nonce! Er-eth, dost thou play the snooker?”
”I play – a little.” And if Hoki kept his part of the deal, I should have half of Ausgard by tomorrow.
“Then taketh this cue, and watcheth my even stroke.”
Two hours later:
“Verily, thou doth learn quickly, like mine father in keeping out of mine mother Anj’th’s way. How did’st thou maketh that shot?”
“Spin, Harley, just some spin.” Elizabeth had no idea how she had split two balls and quadruple rebounded them into scores, but Hoki’s enchantment had kept her well ahead of the increasingly distressed and erratic Harlagaz.
“I can’st not believeth it. Vanquished in the snooker by a maiden. Thou must be-eth a ringer, Beth.”
“Nope, never played matches before tonight,” replied the Baroness, stepping over to the drooping Ausgardian. “And I’m not a maiden, either,” she continued in a low growl. Harlagaz attempted one more shot, pulling his cue back violently and thrusting it forward as if he were trying to run a sword through a night demon. The ball leapt upwards and flew off the table, crashing into a Manchu pottery pug dog that was probably the better for being destroyed.
“Groan-eth. Now I dost ravage mine host’s valuables.”
“I’m sure he’ll forgive you that one, Harley. But you are way too tense to play snooker. Let me help you with that.” Elizabeth stretched her arms upward and barely was able to grasp Harlagaz’s neck. Nevertheless, she began the hardest neck massage she could.
“But soft, what art thou doingst with mine neck?”
“Just trying to release some of that stress you’re dealing with.”
“’Twas what Maladomini saidest sometimes – but ‘twas only a mere cover for her cruelty.”
“I’m not Maladomini. And I can hardly be cruel to you.”
“’Tis merit in that statement. Thy touch is most gentle.”
What would be harsh for him? Elizabeth wondered. A hammer and chisel? She let her hands drop down his back for a moment. Harlagaz shuddered again and nearly toppled a Ming vase. “Perhaps this is not the best place for me to help you. Come upstairs, where there is more room.”
“I should attend to my comrades in arms, Beth. Young Kerry may be worried.”
“Only for a few minutes, Harley, and then you’ll be feeling so much better. Besides, you owe me. Come – and I prefer Elizabeth, not Beth.”
“Five hundred thousand twelve-score and four goldkronen,” he muttered. “Pappy wilt disembowel me, if I fail to persuadeth the lady to waive her winnings.” He then called to Elizabeth. “Be – Elizabeth. Waiteth. I must not forgetteth thy gift.” Shrinking the table to hand size, he then followed her seductive gait toward the staircase, ignoring the sounds of the mummers’ play from the main hall.
As she led him upward, her thoughts returned to her encounter in Ausgard. I’ll deliver him to you, Hoki, but not before I have plenty of fun with the big oaf.
And, for your consideration, the entire Elizabeth Zemo gift list for Christmas at Sir Mumphrey’s, 2004, recognizing most of the Lair Legionnaires and friends who have encountered her:
spiffy (Mark Hopkins), president of Badripoor -- map of the U.S. inlaid with jewels showing each city for which he was the mayor.
Visionary, the possibly-fake man -- £500 gift certificate at Marks & Spencer (he needs clothes)
Yo, pure genderless thought-being – DVD player and disk showing bunnies frolicking in open fields.
Donar, hemigod of thunder -- working model of a Harley Davidson Superglide Custom motorcycle
Hatman (Jay Boaz), the capped crusader -- digital camera with photographer’s hat
CrazySugarFreakBoy! (Dreamcatcher Foxglove), the wired wonder - First editions of the Fantastic Four, Spider-Man and Captain America
Banjooo – Atlantean coral and pearl encrusted treasure box
De Brown Streak -- mayhem to come
NTU-150 – gift basket of Filipino foods
Falcon (Sam Wilson), Agent of SPUD -- season tickets to the Parodiopolis Wild Boars pro basketball games
The Probability Dancer (Sarah Shepherdson) -- appointment for custom costume at Madame Baladance’s
Hallie, formerly a computer sentience and now human – 1695 antique baby spoon from Zemodorf.
The Hooded Hood, archvillain – 1838 first edition of Poe’s Tales of the Grotesque and Arabesque
Sir Mumphrey Wilton – the platinum key to the Great Panjandrum’s vault, stolen by Baron Zemo.
Belinda Wilson, Falcon’s little sister – iPOD mini
Harlagaz Donarson, demihemigod of thunder – snooker table, dimensionally hexed by Hoki
Kerry Shepherdson, Visionary’s ward, Dancer’s little sister -- string of rose pearls
Glory, the mutt of might – Temperpedic Swedish foam dogbed
Fashion Accessory (Samantha Bonnington), trainee superheromodel - Photoshoot at Ella Magazine
Ham-Boy (Fred Harris), earth’s meatiest hero -- customizing kit for the Ham-Scooter
Hacker Nine (Zack Zelnitz) techno-anarchist – bootleg of NinjaCrisis, a new video game
Fleabot -- green turtleneck sweater with yellow diamond emblem, made of unstable molecules to adjust to any size
Happy New Year!
Playing the part of Baroness Elizabeth Zemo von Saxe-Lurkburg-Schreckhausen:
J. Jonah Jerkson
VOICE OF THE PEOPLE
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