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Untold Tales of the Next Lair Legion: Jarvis’ Chair, Thugos’ Throne, Dark Knight’s Cloak, Sorceress’ Bed, Xander’s VCR or The Accoutrements of Doom! Sunday, 21-Nov-1999 14:11:25
#30: Untold Tales of the Next Lair Legion: Jarvis’ Chair, Thugos’ Throne, Dark Knight’s Cloak, Sorceress’ Bed, Xander’s VCR or The Accoutrements of Doom! “Well what are you waiting for?” Cheryl asked her husband. “Sit down.” Visionary paused. It was Jarvis’ chair. It was Jarvis’ office. And frankly, it was Jarvis’ job. “I’m not the leader of the Lair Legion, dammit,” he complained for the thousandth time. “So you keep saying, dear,” Cheryl acknowledged. “Unfortunately, the Lair Legion does need a permanent leader, and Lisa says it’s going to be you.” She pointed to the five inch high pile of paperwork that had accumulated next to yesterday’s pile of paperwork. “Frankly, I just need someone, anyone to sign this stuff so I can get on.” The leather chair creaked ominously as Visionary sat in it, then tipped over backwards spilling the possibly fake and definitely unhappy man onto Jarvis’ carpet. “You see,” Vizh insisted. “Even the chair hates me.” “Part of a leader’s job is to be hated, dear,” the Lair Legion’s Public Relations Officer pointed out. “That’s probably why Lisa thought you’d be so good at it. Now let’s sort out this paperwork. The Super-menace Principal Undercover Directorate is rather shocked to be handed so many super-powered prisoners at once after the Acts of Ambition and they need files from us. We have medical bills for Fin Fang Foom and Donar and DarkHwk. Zemo’s suing Goldeneyed for copyright infringement after the school siege ploy. Lisa’s cat has ended the endangered species problem for the Lesser Ringed Eagle by eating the last of them. And there are six hundred and twelve telegrams of congratulations from Asil for you to reply to.” Visionary picked himself to his knees and looked at the overcrowded table. “What about Troia?” he wondered. “Doesn’t she have some sort of admin function as our secretary?” “Troia’s on compassionate Finding That spiffy Is Her Brother Leave,” Cheryl explained. “That could take some time.” “I can see that,” Vizh acknowledged. He picked up the chair and cautiously lowered himself into it. It swung a little dangerously but did nothing more treacherous than that. “Okay, where do I start?” he gulped. Cheryl thumbed through her briefcase. “Might as well do this one first,” she suggested. “Who is going to be in the new Lair Legion lineup?” There was a crash as Visionary fell out of Jarvis’ chair again. “Hell, I was practically a founder of the Lair Legion,” Trickshot boasted, notching an arrow and bringing down two technozombies that were guarding the entranceway. “That shaft, for example. Based on Enty’s design for improving hard drive performance. We found out it can crash systems at sixty yards. Two universes away if it’s Lisa’s computer.” “But that was all in your old universe, which got wiped out,” Amazing Guy checked that the two undead guards were properly scrambled, using his ability to duplicate the natural powers of any comic-book hero to borrow the life-field sensitivity of the Valkyrie. He shuddered as he realised these minions of Thugos truly were dead, pinned to a semblance of living only by the cruel machineries surgically attached to them. “Well, our world got more sort of merged really,” Trickshot considered. “But somehow I got left out, and ended up here fighting against the Hooded Hoodlings Kumari an’ Dark Thugos. Between ‘em they carved up first the planet then the galaxy. Skree, Skunks, Yo-things, Bjorks, all of ‘em just fell before ‘em. Now Thugos rules an empire of the dead n’ undead, an’ Kumari reigns over nine billion slaves who worship her as a goddess.” “And all we’ve got to do is stop them,” ManMan sighed. When Troia has convinced him to visit Xander’s shop with her to ask who her missing brother was he’d never really expected to trigger off interdimensional invasions, followed by a legal takeover of Amazon Isle, followed by signing a pact with the devil that turned out to be a marriage contract. That in turn had led him to Troia’s father, the continuity-twisting Hooded Hood, who had suggested that he needed to prove his worthiness to court Troia and had retconned him into this alternate world where Troia was the would-be goddess Kumari and her missing brother was Dark Thugos, Tyrant of the Sol Empire. On the bright side, he was invading Thugos’ stronghold of death following the plan cooked up by a sentient knife. “We got no choice but to stop them,” Trickshot shrugged. “Thugos is massacring Kumari’s subjects while she’s away because they’re tryin’ to seize their freedom. So we gotta take him down.” “Just like that?” ManMan asked sceptically, for about the twentieth time. “Three of us?” “I can be any number of heroes,” Amazing Guy reminded the Elvis impersonator. “That’s why the Hooded Hood chose me to come here. If he could only send one person, why not send the one who can duplicate all the others?” “If he could only send one person, why did he send me?” ManMan sighed. He thought he knew the answer already. The Hood probably just hated him, and wanted him away from Troia. “He probably didn’t need to send you,” Trickshot suggested. “It was probably Knifey he needed here. After all, he’s the one with the plan.” “Oh thanks!” ManMan grumped. “Good point,” Knifey chuckled in his sheath. That was when Thugos unleashed the Battalions of Death upon them. “Ah, there you are. The package is in the corner,” Xander the Improbable instructed his visitors as they dodged the experimental exploding shop door bell on the Master of the Mystic Crafts’ Gothametropolis York plumbers and watchmakers shop. “What package?” Hunter Victorious frowned. “We haven’t come about a package.” “You haven’t?” the strange mage in the dusty red robes replied. “Hmmm. I must be more distracted than I thought by having the Astral Khan wanting to rend me body and soul for the right to call himself Sorcerer Supreme instead of me. Sorry. Now let me see.” Xander shuffled over to the counter where his petrified hamster familiar was acting as a rather thick bookmark in his appointments ledger. “Ah yes, you’re here to ask me what’s the matter with Sorceress. Good grief, is it that time already?” The Abandoned Legion regarded each other uncertainly. The Master of the Mystic Crafts had a way of somehow wrong-footing people. Cap was the first to recover. “What is the matter with Sorceress?” he asked. “I mean, she seems more powerful than ever, but her spells appear to have a kind of… dark quality to them that wasn’t there before.” Xander nodded knowingly. He found that this calmed down querents even if he hadn’t the first clue what was going on. He looked at the four visitors, the Abandoned Legionnaires – Cap, Hunter Victorious, and Cobra – and the one who had guided them here, Exile. “It’s not my place to give away the Sorceress’ secrets,” the mage told them. After all, he liked being the shape he was. “But I suppose I could put you on to the person you should be talking to. For a price. In fact, I’ll even throw in a comment about why Exile here is gradually becoming ignored by the Parodyverse.” “That’s true!” Exile burst out. This was why he had really come along, after all. “All kinds of machinery and stuff doesn’t sense me now. It’s making it a pain to use the microwave.” “Wait until the toilet flush won’t acknowledge you,” Xander advised. “But why is it happening?” The Master of the Mystic Crafts shrugged as if the answer was simple. “Because you’re the Exile,” he suggested. “Why do you think the Observing Eye gave you that superhero nomenclature? You’re gradually being rejected by the Parodyverse. It’s learning to ignore you.” “Cool,” Cobra smiled. “Sounds like a really useful gift. No alarm systems can track you, enemies won’t notice you coming…” “I won’t be able to use the bathroom or turn on the TV…” Exile added. “But why?” “Oh, because of the dread Dormaggadon,” Xander answered. “Nature abhors a vacuum. Thousands of years ago the gods created the Dreary Dimension as a prison to keep Dormy in. Recently the Dark Lord was destroyed – you were there when it happened Exile. And since the Dreary Dimension needed a new lord, it adopted you.” “Me? Lord of the Dreary Dimension?” “Yes. So the Parodyverse knows you don’t really belong here any more. So it’s ignoring you. You have been exiled.” “What… what can I do about it?” Xander considered this. “My advice to you is to go home and deal with the problems you find there,” he suggested. “Go now, while the Abandoned Legion carry out the task they’re about to agree to in exchange for the information I have for them. Go!” The mage shooed the shocked and confused Exile out of his shop as if he was a flock of ducks. “He’ll get it wrong of course,” the Master of the Mystic Crafts confided to his remaining guests. “He’ll go back to his fortress headquarters over in the bay. But eventually he’ll work out that home is now the Dismal Dimension and that’s where his problems are really waiting for him.” “Didn’t the Yurt get dropped into the Dismal Dimension recently?” Cobra remembered. “I believe that it did,” Xander considered absently. “Anyway, here’s the package I need you to deliver, Abandoned Legionnaires.” The mage indicated the box he had pointed out earlier. Hunter Victorious looked at the address. “Antarctic circle?” “How the hell am I supposed to pick a new Lair Legion,” Visionary worried. “I can’t do this.” “Of course you can, leader-man,” Lisa smiled at him, perching on the one corner of the desk that was now free of paper. “Jarvis used to do it all the time.” “Just work out who’s available, and who’d make a good team,” Cheryl advised him. “You?” Visionary asked hopefully. “When hell freezes over,” the goddess of HTML agreed pleasantly. “We need some fresh meat… I mean new blood,” Lisa considered. “Starseed and Avatar have left the planet, and DarkHwk’s still in critical condition. Enty doesn’t know exactly how the Devil Doctor cancelled out DarkHwk’s amulet and how long it’ll be before Darky can use his powers again.” “Donar’s down for the count as well. And Finny’s in hospital, isn’t he?” Vizh remembered. “He was pretty badly injured in that fight where… where Dark Knight was killed.” Lisa and Cheryl exchanged glances. “Well, actually, despite being badly hurt, Donar and Finny discharged themselves this morning and have gone to look for DK’s body. It was, um, it was kind of lost in the battle,” Lisa explained. Visionary’s temperamental oath was worthy of Jarvis. “Hello, cute villaining villains! I am being Yo, the Yo-being. Take me to your leader. Yo has always wanted to say that!” “Frag ‘im, er, her… whatever. Just shoot!” “And these are being my cute friends, cute Donar, hemigod of thunder, and cute Fin Fang Foom the dragon.” “Hail, felons. I art bulletproof. Art thou Mjalcomproof?” “Donar and Foom? Oh sh…” “Don’t worry guys. I heard they both got hurt real bad recently. I bet these two guys can hardly stand, let alone take on studs like the Gothemetropolis Bloodbathers. I say we…” “Oh, I’m sorry, I wasn’t watching what I was doing with that foot. Was that your car? Oops. Hiccuped as well. Hey, my fire’s hardly radioactive at all and hair grows back eventually.” “We are having to be being the nice cop and the nasty cop. Yo is being allowed to be the nice cop.” “And guess which I am?” “And I art not a cop at all, but merely someone who wilt rip thy spleens from they bodies and make thee eatest them if thou doesn’t tell us where to find Dark Knight’s body.” Julio Spannerhead eased himself into the Lynchpin’s chair, and found that he could have fitted four friends on there with him. If he’d had four friends that is. Four living ones that he hadn’t backstabbed on his way to the top. Spannerhead made a mental note to have the massive reinforced chair removed and replaced with one of those sexy leather power-office chairs he’d always wanted. After all, the Lynchpin had gone underground after the recent Acts of Ambition. That meant that his deputy, Spannerhead, was top dog now. The crime-boss put his feet up on the table and allowed himself a cigar. He didn’t smoke much since the accident that had caused his forehead to be rebuilt into the shape of a large spanner, but becoming de facto leader of every racket in Gothametropolis deserved some special reward. He allowed himself to remember how impressed all the other gang-bosses, racketeers, and family operators had been when they’d come for the meeting he’d called, when they’d seen his trophy pinned to the far wall of the conference room. Spannerhead snorted. Sure, two (literally) bleeding heroes might be going around fainting on the street-level punks (and Donar or Fin Fang Foom fainting on a street-level punk was more than enough to make that street-level punk a hospital-level punk), but they’d never find the trophy here. He allowed himself to get up and peer into the conference room. There in the glass cabinet that occupied the entire far end wall was the crucified corpse of the bullet-riddled Dark Knight: the ultimate status symbol for a crime-lord to have. Julio Spannerhead grinned to himself, had another puff on his cigar, and went back to consider redesigning his offices. Life was good. “Okay, well I guess we’ve gotta have Finny, Donar, and Enty,” Visionary decided. “It wouldn’t be the Lair Legion without those guys.” “True,” Cheryl considered brightly; but Vizh had written them down as in.. “What we really need are more women on the team,” Lisa suggested. “Is Tina available?” “Tina still retains a modicum of common sense,” Cheryl answered. “She’s not into the superhero stuff.” “Melissa? Last I heard she’d gone off to master her Galactivac-given probability altering powers?” “No idea how to get in touch with her,” Cheryl admitted. “I guess the LL’s got bad memories for her.” “Sersi?” “Not available. It’s the party season.” “Cobra? Sorceress? Hatty in a Mae West hat?” “spiffy would scream if we screwed up the line-up for the Abandoned Legion,” Vizh warned them. “Yes, that’s another bonus,” the first lady of the Lair Legion admitted. “Cobra’s a bit… dubious from a not-being-arrested-for-murder point of view,” Cheryl indicated. “And Sorceress is getting a bit…” “Spooky,” Visionary completed the sentence . “She’s getting spooky.” The Sorceress dropped back down onto the goosefeather mattress and tried to catch her breath. “How… how… how can you make me feel like that?” she gasped as her Demon Lover settled down beside her. “Practise,” the handsome man smiled ferally. “I’ve been… looking after the women of your bloodline for a very long time. I know what it takes to make you happy. I know all about you.” “You’ve been enhancing my power-levels as well, haven’t you?” Sorceress noted. “I’m finding the extra power difficult to control.” “I’m merely your… your familiar,” the Love-Talker purred. “I help you to reach your full potential.” “Mmmmm. Can’t argue with that,” Sorceress stretched, squirming on the soft cotton sheets. Some small part of her mind warned her about this lover, about this immortal creature who had impregnated the women of her lineage for three thousand years or more; but that small part was drowned out by the rush of feelings as he traced a cool sharp fingernail along the line of her spine, as his tongue flicked across her neck. “I have a gift for you,” he told her. “I don’t know if I can manage another gift just now, handsome,” Sorceress pleaded. “I’m pretty exhausted…” “Not that kind of gift this time,” the Demon Lover replied. “Just a little token of my affection.” The marquetry-inlaid cube he gave her was six inches across on each of it’s smooth lacquered panels, and was cunningly designed so that the surfaces shifted and slid as they were pushed. “Oh lover, it’s beautiful!” the Sorceress breathed. One touch told her that it was very old, and laced with enchantments strange and wondrous. “A puzzle box! What’s inside?” “Your gift.” The Love-Talker told her. “Your destiny. But open the box and we can be together forever. I promise that.” Sorceress’ fingers were already sliding the smooth, ancient panels. After his last arrow was used, Trickshot hit the Technopriest upside the head with his bow. Then he looked around to see how the others were doing. ManMan was climbing out from under a pile of now-inert Technozombies, Cyberamputees, and Slaysurgeons. His sentient blade was stained scarlet. The hero himself looked like he’d had a close encounter of the Moulinex kind. Amazing Guy was currently a mere streak of colour as he blurred around the chamber at incredible speeds finishing off the last of the Vampiredrones. “Not bad,” Trickshot panted. “Looks like we beat the first wave.” “First wave?” Amazing Guy cringed. Now that the advance foray had done their job in ascertaining the strengths and weaknesses of the attackers, the next Battalion burst out to engage the heroes. “What about Hatman and CrazySugarFreakBoy?” Cheryl asked Visionary and Lisa. “Why can’t we just let everybody who wants to join be a Legionnaire?” Vizh shrugged. “Because there’s a maximum number of super-powered heroes who can safely operate together,” Lisa lectured him. “Somewhere less than one,” murmured Cheryl. “All the same, Hatty and CSFB! are two of the best recruits the Legion’s ever had,” Visionary argued. “Hatty’s got a pretty wide variety of abilities given the right arrangement on his Hatility Belt, and CSFB!’s… well, he’s colourful.” “You want them in, you got ‘em. After all, you’re the leader,” Lisa smirked. “Mom? Why are you in the lair of an archfiend acting as the bodyguard to an Amazon superhero?” Dreamcatcher Foxglove asked. “Has that Pierson’s Porter enslaved you with his love-ray like he did Lisa once?” “I reckon I could beat a love-ray three falls out of four, hon,” Meggan Foxxx answered her CrazySugarFreakOffspring. “Nah, I’m here ‘cause someone’s tryin’ to kill little Troia, an’ she needs a cooler head to keep an eye on her. And frankly the girl needs educatin’ in other areas as well. Did you know she was due to marry a Demon Lord in less’n a week and nobody’s even considered her trousseau?” “I believe that the Lair Legion intends to prevent that wedding from happening, Mrs Hastings,” Hatman answered. “Sure we will,” CSFB! assured the Amazon administrator who was flinching at the thought of her upcoming contracted marriage. “All we’ve gotta do is defeat this unstoppable extradimensional force of utter evil with his countless hordes of savage demonic minions, make him give back that contract you signed offering yourself and ManMan to him body and soul, and then make sure he doesn’t take revenge by annihilating the rest of the planet in reprisal. Easy.” And of course, CrazySugarFreakBoy! meant this quite sincerely. “And I’ve just been pointing out to the gal that there’s nothin’ in that contract says it has to be a white weddin’, if you know what I mean,” Meggan added. Troia blushed and giggled nervously. “Who’s trying to kill you?” Hatman asked Troia, getting the conversation back on to ground he was comfortable with.. “She calls herself Kumari, the Queen of Reality,” the diabolical Dr Moo explained. Troia and Meggan were guests of Pierson Porter’s campaign train, tagging along as the alien attempted to become elected as Mayor of Paradopolis. The Hooded Hood had arranged this for Troia’s protection; so he said. “Kumari is an alternate-reality version of Troia herself, who has to destroy Troia before she can permanently occupy this dimension and set about conquering it.” “Excellent!” CSFB! breathed. “It will be,” Pierson’s Porter promised, striding into the room. “I believe I am now ready to deal with this Kumari person – and the Hooded Hood if I have to.” Lania caught up with Moira in the Lair Mansion’s laundry room just as the machine went into spin cycle. Foom’s almost-girlfriend flinched instinctively as the NTU-matic spun up to full speed and the proton accelerator cut in, but the faerie woman had no such qualms. “What do you want?” Moira demanded. “I was going to ask you that, you vampire,” Lania shot back. “You attach yourself to Finny, claiming that you’ll die unless he gives you stories. Since then he can’t stop writing. Even when he’s so beaten up he can hardly move he’s been scribbling away on his bedhead. It’s like a compulsion, like he’s burning himself up. And then you’re around doing mysterious stuff when his best friend in the world gets murdered. What are you up to?” The Lhiannon Shee shrugged. “I’m one of the signs and portents. A gal’s gotta do and all o’ that stuff. I can only exist in your cruel world of iron and hate if I can feed on the imagination of an artist, and I’ll inspire him to ever greater accomplishments for my sake. I’ll be his muse for as long as he can stand it. As for the rest, I’ve got a job o’ work to do for th’ Chronicler of Stories, and he’s not a man you say no to.” “You’re not going to make Finny burn out,” Lania warned her rival. “I won’t allow it.” “You’re an irrelevance,” Moira replied. The washing machine had finished now, so she reached in to pull out the beautifully-clean cape of the Dark Knight. “Excuse me, I have to go deliver this where it’s needed,” she added. “This isn’t over,” Lania warned as the Washer-at-the-Ford slipped off into the twilight. “Don’t think it is.” After the battle came the long silence. The only noises were the trickling of oils and other life-giving fluids from the Technozombies and the occasional ping of rended metal cooling. And the panting of three heroes who had been pushed to the limits of their endurance by the fourteen hours of combat. “Don’t give up now, kid,” Knifey encouraged his wielder. “This is usually where the big baddie comes an’ makes his entrance.” “Oh good,” Joe Pepper answered weakly. “How very perceptive of you to realise,” a gravelly, sinister voice called from the balcony. Dark Thugos stood there in all his stone-faced evil, his hands behind his back as he looked upon the carnage of the battlefield. “What brings you here to see me, little heroes?” Trickshot grabbed one of the severed anti-matter rods from a downed Cyberamputee and launched it from his bow towards the Tyrant of the Sol Empire. Thugos caught it. It crumbled to dust as he stared at it. “You got ten seconds to surrender, Thugos. Then we’re taking you down!” the archer warned the villain. “I bet you were real popular in your Lair Legion,” ManMan breathed. While Thugos was laughing at Trickshot, Amazing Guy triggered his power – the one he had sworn never to use. “You have fought well,” Thugos conceded. “Once you have died you will make useful minions.” “Hold it there, tyrant!” Amazing Guy called out, climbing over the piles of corpses demonstrating no particular super-abilities. “You might not know it but we’re prepared for you. I can adapt any comic-book superhero’s power.” Thugos looked smug. “But you and ManMan there are but guests on this plane, held here by the tenuous manipulations of the Hooded Hood. With but a minor manifestation of my entropy beams I can spill you from this world into the nothingness between planes, leaving Trickshot alone and unsupported.” “I’d like ta see you try!” Trickshot snarled, looking about for another missile. “Very well,” Thugos replied. “Farewell, heroes. You will not be missed.” And his entropy eye-beams washed over the trio. But it was Trickshot who disappeared with ManMan. Amazing Guy remained. “How…?” he demanded. “Used the cosmic power of the Silver Surfer to swap natural citizenship of this plane from Tricky to me, in the same way Kumari’s trying with Troia” Amazing Guy explained Knifey’s plan. “That way you can’t get rid of me, and I’m the powerful one.” “I could, of course, simply kill you,” Thugos pointed out. “I haven’t had a challenge since I broke Captain Marbles with my bare hands, thus eliminating the threat of the Protector of the Universe. And you do not seem to have much power at the moment.” Amazing Guy cringed and told the terrible truth. “I’m using the abilities of… Duo Damsel, dammit. I’ve duplicated myself into two people, one to banter with you here, the other to find your interdimensional reactor core. Ah, there it is! I’ve got to go now, Thugos. I can only use one power at once, and this core looks like it needs the strength of the incredible Hulk. Bye!” And the hero blinked out. Thugos teleported himself to the reactor. But it was already too late. “What about spiffy and Banjoooo on the team?” Visionary wondered. “Ah well, I was thinking about that,” Lisa admitted. “I know spiffy’s not that keen to be on the active roster – inferior fern syndrome and all that, and Banjoooo is theoretically at least supposed to be ruling that sea monkey place.” “He’s got a tough time coming up soon,” Cheryl pointed out. “Apparently now that he’s found his perfect mate in Elyse he’s got to do the Three Quests of Worthiness at some point. It’s a Sea Monkey thing.” The duchess of Lake Superior sighed. “Nobody ever did three quests of worthiness for me.” “Hey, I went back in time and fought the Apostate for you didn’t I?” protested Vizh. “Well, Yo did.” “Anyway” Lisa continued, “I was thinking that we should set Banj and spiff up as a sort of independent reserve, a kind of investigative and clean-up unit. We should contract their Agency to do damage control, make sure all the dangerous nuclear stuff gets shifted after we’ve battled someone, transport captured felons to their cells, defuse alien death traps. That kind of thing.” “Sounds kind of dangerous,” Visionary noted. “Yes,” the advocatrix agreed. “But it keeps them out of mischief.” “How are we going to afford to pay them?” Cheryl worried. The budgets this year were already looking a bit hammered. “I said we’d contract them,” the Lair Legion’s legal advisor answered. “I never said we’d pay them.” “Urk!” choked spiffy. A bad day had just got a lot worse. The Hooded Hood looked up from his chessboard at his alleged son. “Yes?” he prompted. “Go on then,” Banjooooo hissed in the fern-wielder’s ear. “We didn’t drive all the way out to Herringcarp Asylum in that appalling thunderstorm just to get stage fright now.” Of course, the last person to come and see the Hood at Herringcarp was ManMan and he hadn’t been seen since, but the king of the sea monkeys thought it might be best to avoid that subject, given that spiffy’s old man has a visitor and all. “Akkk!” spiffy contributed. “He must have been a great disappointment,” Heinrich Zemo noted sympathetically from the other side of the chessboard. “I had to send him to a time and place where he wouldn’t grow up to become a rival archvillain,” the cowled crime czar explained. “I went to considerable trouble to obscure his lineage and set a series of false trails and clues to lead to Deathspoon.” “Yes. I particularly approved of the Dreary Dimension invasion force diversion,” the Baron admitted. “Guhhh!” spluttered spiffy. He gestured feebly with a finger, and what he meant to say was ‘Are you my father, and if so why are you sitting there with your sworn enemy who just tried to dissect me, playing chess with him for goodness’ sake?’ It just didn’t come out like that. “Those alternate-reality counterparts of your children, Kumari and Thugos, turned out much better,” Zemo opined. “They conquered their world and then set about forging an interplanetary empire.” “Yes,” the Hood agreed. “Kumari in particular has ambitions about conquering this realm as well. But you would know that, Zemo, being her ally and all that.” “We are here you know!” Banjoooo objected. “I happen to be the king of the sea monkeys, you know.” “Purely a random chance, I assure you,” the Hooded Hood replied. “Quite random, and very easy to alter.” “Um, look, we’ve only come looking for some answers,” Banjoooo gulped. “That’s right,” spiffy managed at last. “Like what you’re up to and why it involves me and why you have Pierson’s Porter protecting Troia and what these alternate universe me and hers are up to and why you’re sitting there with Zemo after he tried to have me killed a little while ago.” Zemo took the Hooded Hood’s queen. Chess wasn’t really the masked monarch’s game – he preferred Mass Universal Domination, or failing that table tennis – but he seemed to be winning this match. “I understand now why it was spiffy who briefly came to possess the cosmic cube,” the Baron considered. “Like your daughter, spiffy too formed part of your grand plan for multiversal domination.” “There is much to explain,” the Hood admitted. “But it is not me who will have to explain it.” He moved his pawn onto the last row of the board and converted it into a new queen. “Checkmate. Come, let us go and ask these questions of the Shaper of Worlds. I suppose you’d better come too Zemo. It’ll save you the bother of having to send spies to find it all out anyway.” The Portal of Pretentiousness glowed once and they were gone. “I thought you said we’d get zapped back to Earth?” ManMan complained to Knifey. “This doesn’t look like Earth. It looks like interdimensional void where we’re going to die slowly and horribly.” “Relax, kid,” Trickshot told him. “I can figger us a way out of this. Just gimme a minnit.” “Great! Trapped in nowhere with a smartass Knife and a delusional archer!” ManMan sighed. “There’s no place like home,” Knifey tried. “Get out of our way,” the Hooded Hood demanded, traversing the probability lines with his party. The nudge was sufficient to send Trickshot and ManMan tumbling, spinning towards one of the strands that shimmered below them. Towards the Paradopolis Effluent Treatment and Recycling Centre… “So we’ve got Lisa, Enty, Foom, Donar, Hatty, and CSFB!,” Cheryl read back from the pad where lots of things were getting crossed out. “And Visionary,” Lisa added. “Visionary for leader.” “Will you stop saying that,” the possibly fake man shuddered. “What, ‘Visionary for leader’?” “Yes.” “You don’t want me to say ‘Visionary for leader’?” “That’s right.” “Okay. You got it, Leader-Man.” “Who else do we need?” Cheryl asked diplomatically. “What about Goldeneyed?” Lisa asked. “He’s hardly a rookie now, and his teleportation abilities are far more useful than my summonsing. And he’s got that cool tight black costume.” “I’ve got a note from him here, actually,” Cheryl reported. “He’s happy to stay with the team, and he’s proposed his cousin Exile as a probationary member.” “Isn’t that nepotism?” Visionary asked. “And why doesn’t Exile appear on our computerised hero database?” “So basically Xander was saying you’re being rejected by the Parodyverse?” G-Eyed said sympathetically to his cousin. “That sucks.” Exile thumbed the remote control which opened the shutters to his fortress headquarters. “That’s what I thought. But who do you complain to about being made lord of a prison dimension?” “The Chronicler of Stories? The Parody-Master? Oldman? Mefrothto?” Goldeneyed offered helpfully. He was just enjoying the expression on his cousin’s face when the girl in the silver-mesh bikini ran out of the fortress and prostrated herself at Exile’s feet. “Er…” Exile said. G-Eyed raised one speculative eyebrow. “Something you want to tell me, cuz?” “Er…” The girl kept her face studiously downwards. “Master,” she told him, “I am here for your pleasure.” Exile gulped. “You… you are?” “This is way, way better than a Bulbasaur,” G-Eyed admitted. Exile finally found the words. “Who are you?” “I am your slave, the tribute of the people of the Northern Marches of the Dreary Dimension, sent to you in tribute for your great forbearance in not destroying them.” She glanced up briefly then remembered her instructions and quickly looked down again. “You… you won’t destroy them will you, master?” That one glance had been enough to show Exile and Goldeneyed that the girl was utterly, absolutely terrified. Of them. “I think I’d better get the coffee on,” Goldeneyed suggested. Julio Spannerhead got up for the seventh time that evening to look in the trophy cabinet. He knew it was a bit sick but it made him happy. He liked to gloat over his decaying enemy. He was thinking of having the corpse stuffed. He knew guys who’d pay good money to ram straw up the Dark Knight’s ass. He made his way into the darkened conference room and flipped the light switch. The lights didn’t come on. The illumination from the room behind him shed enough light for him to see the cabinet however. It was empty. There was only a trickle of blood where the Dark Knight’s body had been displayed. Fresh blood. The lights in the room behind him went off as well. Julio Spannerhead had just enough time to scream. “We’ve got to have Yo on the team,” Visionary argued. “It sort of helps out the gender imbalance half the time anyway. But really Yo is important to the spirit of the Lair Legion. Enty’s the brains and Donar’s the guts and Lisa’s the heart and CrazySugarFreakBoy’s the, the whatever he is, and Yo is the smile.” “And Foomy the spleen,” Lisa added. “So who’s the sphincter?” “We still have to decide about probationary members,” Cheryl pointed out, looking quickly away from her husband. “There’s plenty of possible new Legionnaires out there. Falcon, ManMan, Xander, Troia, Exile, Frog-Man, Pantzer, Dynamo Duck…” Her recitation was interrupted by a hammering on the door. Lisa sauntered over to open it. The doorway was filled by an impossibly-bosomed warrior-woman in golden battle-armour, wielding a massive energy cannon in each hand. “May I help you?” the advocatrix asked. “I am here to join your Lair Legion!” the woman informed them. “You may know me as Huntingjustice Deathmarrow!” “I cannot believe we agreed to deliver a package all the way to the Antarctic just to get hold of Sorceress’ grandma’s phone number,” Cobra complained. “It’s bad enough that it’s about a hundred below freezing without discovering the only six-foot flesh-eating penguins on the planet.” “It’s for one of the team,” Cap pointed out. “Anyway, now we’ve found the cyclopean multi-angled non-Euclidean elder city we can get the box signed for and be on our way.” “What’s in the box anyway?” demanded Cobra. “I hope someone thought to check.” “I did,” HV admitted. “It’s, um, it’s a video recorder.” “We’ve come to Lovecraft central to deliver a VCR?” “Well, yes basically.” Cap found the unpleasant soapstone carving as per the written delivery instructions, twisted it, and stood back as a vast section of vast wall moved aside to open up a vast corridor. “Aha,” a vast translucent gelatinous glob called out to them from beside his vast array of video-monitors. “You got here at last!” the Manga Shoggoth was pleased to see the Abandoned Legion. Thugos grasped Amazing Guy by the neck and squeezed. Somehow invulnerability wasn’t protecting the hero. “Akkk!” he wittily responded as his world started to go dark. Then the world got very bright indeed as the interdimensional reactor which powered the jump-gates linking the various planets of Thugos’ empire exploded from the damage it had taken. What had previously been Thugos’ base of operations and home of his undead legions, formerly to that known as North America back when anybody alive had lived there, evaporated in the wave of energies that shrieked out across the different levels of the universe. Amazing Guy tried to find a power that would stop himself from being annihilated by the pounding devastation of the celestial event he had unleashed; he found there wasn’t a power able to do it. His last impression was of something a bit like Mr Potato-Head looming down upon him. Then his body was rendered down to the subatomic level and for all intents and purposes he ceased to exist. Thugos woke up in the interdimensional void with one hell of a headache and a grazed knee. And no immediate way of getting back to what was left of his empire. Thugos was miffed. “What happened to you?” NTU-150 asked ManMan, carefully shutting off the olfactory sensors on his armour. “Er, it wasn’t anything to do with the mansion defences, was it?” “SewageplantinterdimensionalvortexHoodedHoodsentient-knives-with-clever-plans” muttered the encrusted Elvis impersonator. “Oh, this is Trickshot.” “Hi, Enty. Good ta see you again for the first time!” Tricky bounded up. “Is the lovely Tina about? Er, you are still dating the lovely Tina in this timeline, aren’t you?” “Do I know you?” the armoured Legionnaire demanded, surreptitiously wiping the slime off his gauntlet where Trickshot had shaken hands. “Well, not exactly, due to odd cosmic stuff, but I sure know you. Want me to prove it by telling ya about Tina’s birthmark?” “He’s from a parallel Lair Legion,” ManMan explained. “Please don’t kill him.” “Trickshot! Hey, Tricky, long time no see. Eeew! Long time no wash either!” Trickshot turned round to see the familiar pantsless figure of the Space Ghost. “Ghostie? You know me?” “Suuure. We had lots’a good times together, like that one where we attached Jarvis’ chair to the mains and…” “…and the one where Sersi’s underthings just caught fire from the napalm…” “…then Donar says, ‘That wert mine kroller!’” “…inside the closet with a bucket of cheese dip!” “…in the same shrimp-tank as Hugh Grant and Ross Perot!” “Bwa-hah-hah-hah!” “Bwa-hah-hah-hah!” “What does he want?” NTU-150 asked ManMan. He had already decided that he didn’t like the loudmouthed archer at all. “I think he wants to join the Lair Legion,” ManMan admitted. It was time for the announcement. The press and quite a crowd had gathered outside the Lair Mansion, albeit a respectful distance away from NTU-150’s stunner array which tended to misinterpret TV cameras as assault weapons and vaporise people. But that was a problem Cheryl could deal with tomorrow. Visionary and the new Legion filed out to stand on the steps. The new leader of the LL fumbled with the piece of paper that his wife had given him. “Ah, um, thank you all for coming. It is my… my duty and privilege to introduce the new line-up of the world’s foremost superhero team.” “Stop snickering, Finny,” Enty hissed. “This is a solemn occasion.” “So without further ado, here they are: Lisa, the amorous advocatrix, NTU-150, Fin Fang Foom, the dynamic Donar, Hatman, the capped crusader, CrazySugarFreakBoy!…” “Yay!” said CSFB! “…Goldeneyed and Yo. In addition we have three new probationary members, and I’d like to introduce Exile, Troia, and, um, Trickshot.” “I shouldn’t need to be a probationary member,” grumbled the archer. “I been doin’ this since before Troia an’ Exile started sproutin’ hairs.” “Hey, you leave my hairs out of this,” warned the Amazon administrator. “I shall never forget that you cheated me of my rightful place in the Lair Legion,” Huntingjustice Deathmarrow warned from the sidelines. “There shall be blood spilled for your actions this day.” “And we also have to announce that Visionary here is our new glorious leader,” Lisa added, for the record, and because she loved it when the possibly fake man winced. “Thank you, Lisa,” Visionary answered with venom. “And, while we’re at it, I’m pleased to announce that Lisa here is going to be our field-leader, taking those all-important command decisions in combat because I’m not there.” “Hold on, I never agreed to…” “The leader gets what the leader wants, right?” Visionary smiled nastily. “That’s what you said, O glorious field-leader, isn’t it?” The press watched this interaction with an expectant gaze. “What are they to be waiting for?” Yo wondered. “They art waiting for Visionary to say it,” Donar explained. “Say it? Say what?” Troia puzzled. “He’s got to say it. He’s gotta,” Exile told her. “I don’t think he is going to say it,” Enty breathed. “Oh no?” Lisa challenged. She leaned across and whispered in Vizh’s ear. “Don’t you think you’ve forgotten something, Mister Leader-Man?” Visionary checked the now-crumpled and sweat-smeared paper that Cheryl had given him. “Er, no, I don’t think so.” “The battle cry?” “Oh, er, the battle cry. That’s what they’re waiting for?” “Yes.” Visionary looked down at the expectant masses, and back at the new team waiting for him to lead them. He swallowed and took a deep breath. He wished his mind wasn’t choosing that moment to go completely blank. He closed his eyes and sang out at the top of his voice: “I’m Henry the Eighth I am, I am…” “And the crowd goes home,” murmured Trickshot. Next time on “The Days of Our Legion”: Troia loves either Finny or ManMan but has to marry Mefrothto. Finny has feelings for Troia, but he’s also been feeling Lania and Moira. ManMan loves Troia but also has to marry Mefrothto. Sorceress is sleeping with the Demon Lover but can’t stop thinking about Hatman. The Shaper of Worlds has feelings about the Hooded Hood, but not in a good way. Manga Shoggoth is getting to know the Abandoned Legion, but the Abandoned Legion are shocked when they meet Sorceress’ long-lost grandmother. Lisa is having a baby, but whose, and will that save Trickshot and Exile from induction? Or has Exile already been well inducted by that little slave-girl he’s keeping in his love-fortress? And who is Huntingjustice Deathmarrow hot for? Confused? You will be. The Hooded Hood presents some new stuff for a change, a tale of sex, politics, violence, and the new line-up of the Lair Legion at last |
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