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#46: Untold Tales of the Lair Legion against the Carnival of Destiny, or Send in the Clowns – no wait a minute, that doesn’t sound right Part Five: Under the Boardwalk Thursday, 27-Apr-2000 16:48:12
Note to readers: This story was originally published in episodic format. All the episodes appear on this page, but have the comments for each section appended between them. To read the complete thing just keep scrolling down. #46: Untold Tales of the Lair Legion against the Carnival of Destiny, or Send in the Clowns – no wait a minute, that doesn’t sound right Part Five: Under the Boardwalk “Yo loves these Halls of Mirrors,” Yo told Trickshot. “Yo loves how it makes Yo all kinds of different shapes.” “Er, yes,” agreed Trickshot. It should have occurred to him, really. As a pure being of thought, Yo was whatever Yo thought s/he was. So when Yo looked into the distorting mirrors and saw a strange misshapen version of him/herself, s/he automatically modified her real body to match it. This in turn changed the image in the mirror, meaning that ever since entering this House of Glass Yo had been undergoing the most bizarre and disturbing transformations. “Perhaps we could go get a hot dog now?” “Yo likes it best when Yo waves at the mirror and mirror Yo waves back.” “Yeah, it’s a hoot. Now about this hot-dog…” “But Yo does not like that nasty-Yo who is to be mooning Yo in that mirror.” “There’s a vendor just across the… what?” “That Yo is to being rude,” Yo accused, pointing his/her tongue at the offending image. “That’s not possible!” Trickshot gasped; but just then every image of himself unslung its bow and fired arrows at him. There were screams in the Mirror Murderer’s House of Glass, and then everything went silent. “I wonder if I might possibly have assistance from the audience?” the conjurer and escapologist billed as Endgame asked. The spotlights whirled round and alighted on Jaimie Bautista and Tina Cabañez. “You sir and madame. Would you be so kind as to step up onto the stage?” “I don’t know about this…” Enty worried. “Oh, don’t be such an old stick-in-the-mud,” Tina chided him. “C’mon. It’ll be fun.” “Thank you sir and madame. Now sir, would you be kind enough to examine this large metal box?” “Well, I don’t have my full spectrographic analysis kit with me…” “Jaimie!” “It seems like a metal box. It has some slits in the side about three inches long, and some brackets to chain it shut,” NTU-150 replied, reluctant to give so amateur an analysis. “Thank you. Now would you examine these handcuffs?” “Standard issue Gothametropolis Police restraints, with an Ottoman barrel and a spring-loaded lock that…” “Thank you sir. Now, please assist the young lady into the box, and be so good as to handcuff her to the brackets inside.” “I’m not going to…” “Jaimie, it’s alright. I’ve read his mind, I already know how the trick’s going to be done,” urged Tina. “Well, if you insist. It’s usually Lisa with the handcuffs fetish,” muttered Enty. “Thank you. Please seal the box and padlock it shut sir. Are you comfortable in there madame?” “It’s a bit cramped and it smells of socks,” complained Tina. “Well, soon I think you’ll have something else to worry about, madame,” Endgame explained. “You see, we’re fitting a series of razor-sharp blades around your box. As long as your companion can keep hold of them they wont plummet down and slice you to ribbons. Should his strength fail, you face a horrible and bloody death.” Jaimie didn’t like this trick. For one thing he hadn’t been able to check the apparatus properly himself. What was the tensile strength of the steel bar they had just placed in his hand, for example? Endgame fastened Enty into the apparatus and released the weight. Jaimie easily held it, his armour’s servo-motors barely humming beneath his street clothes. “Hmmm. Clearly no challenge there, ladies and gentlemen. Shall we see how the young man does when we increase the pull to, say, fifty tons?” “What?” gasped NTU-150 as the weight suddenly almost jerked his arms from their sockets. “Jaimie!” cried Tina. “A façade has just fallen from Endgame’s mind! He’s been prepared for us! It’s a trap!” “And to make matters more interesting, let’s just nick our armoured friend here with this slow-acting narcotic and electrify the cage Miss Cabañez is shackled to shall we?” suggested Endgame, scratching Enty’s exposed face with a poisoned needle. “Now that’s what I call showbusiness!” “Cross my palm with silver,” Mystic Morgana invited the three young ladies who huddled in her tent. “Show me your palms and I’ll tell you your fates.” “I know my fate,” Cobra spat. “But continue with your puerile superstition-based entertainment anyway.” “Don’t mock a wise woman,” worried Troia. “Back home, if anyone annoyed the Pythoness, they’d end up in a nasty needlework accident.” “Was that by any chance because your prophetess would send a dozen or so burly warrior women round to stab you?” Sorceress speculated. “Well, yes, but it’s still not a good idea to annoy a wise woman. How do you think they survived that long to get so old and wrinkly?” “You are a sceptic,” the old seeress noted of Cobra. “Then we shall begin with you.” “Are you alright, Whitney?” Troia asked as Mystic Morgana examined Cobra’s palm. “Just a headache,” the Sorceress frowned. “A sudden stabbing.” “Like this?” Mystic Morgana asked, suddenly plunging one of her hairpins right through Cobra’s palm. “Gotcha!” Suddenly the terrible headache that Sorceress was feeling made sense. “All around us!” she gasped. “Filling this tent! They’re all around us!” “Who are?” Troia demanded, looking round the small bead-filled canvas enclosure. “I don’t see anyone!” “The spirits of the dead,” Cobra explained. “All around, seeking entry as blood is spilled.” As she showed Troia her bleeding palm she struck the Amazon administrator with her other fist; the one with the knife in it. “I’m Boudicca the Manslayer,” she announced to the bloodied heroine. “Who are you?” “Borden,” grinned back Troia, cradling her slashed arm. “I gave my mother forty whacks.” “What have you done?” Sorceress demanded of Mystic Morgana. “Let them go, necromancer!” “Oh no,” the crone cackled. “I have a very special guest lined up for you. Restrain her, ladies.” “I’m no lady,” Cobra’s possessor announced. “I’m a Roman-castrating vengeance-crazed bitch with two millennia’s worth of scores to pay back!” “And I just want to hurt you very badly before we give you over to Lucretia,” snarled Troia’s indwelling spirit as she pummelled Whitney into the ground. The host of disembodied ghosts pressed in on the Sorceress as Cobra and Troia wrestled her to the ground. “That is one big frog,” whistled ManMan, peering down into the pit where the house-sized Vasto the Wonder Frog was housed. “Never mind the frog,” insisted CrazySugarFreakBoy! “You heard Christine! What am I going to do?” “Well I don’t recommend hacking off one of your happy sacks,” Hatman strongly advised. “I want it on record that I don’t do circumcisions,” Knifey insisted. “She said it’s a cultural thing,” CSFB! agonised. “You know she was brought up by that weird cult thingie. Who knows what stupid customs they have?” “A really huge frog,” ManMan continued. “Says here it was captured on Monstro Island, and that it had a special stone in it’s forehead that fires paralysis rays.” “If she really cared about you she wouldn’t be asking you to mutilate yourself,” Hatty continued. “But guys who marry into Jewish families get circumcised,” Dreamcatcher Foxglove pointed out. “In fact I was circumcised as a baby, so that bit’s no problem…” “They don’t hack half their testicles off as well,” Hatman told him. “She’s jerking your… she’s pulling your leg.” “It looks awfully intelligent for a frog,” ManMan noted. “ManMan, will you stop obsessing on the flaming frog!” Hatty shouted. “I’m trying to convince Dream not to hack his nuts off here!” “Now the frog’s frowning,” ManMan noted. “Perhaps he doesn’t like being dissed.” “ManMan!” growled Hatman. “Forget… the… giant… frog!” Then the platform beneath them collapsed, toppling them all into the giant frog cage. With a ribbit of glee, Vasto the Wonder Frog aimed his paralysis ray down at them. Next: No surprises at all as Finny and DK are suspicious and Donar fights Quake. The episodic enterprise continues from... the Hooded Hood |
| #46: Untold Tales of the Lair Legion against the Carnival of Destiny, or Send in the Clowns – no wait a minute, that doesn’t sound right Part Five: Under the Boardwalk (The episodic enterprise continues from... the Hooded Hood) (27-Apr-2000 16:48:12) |
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Copyright © Looksmart, Ltd. 1997-1999.
All rights reserved.
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#46: Untold Tales of the Lair Legion against the Carnival of Destiny, or Send in the Clowns – no wait a minute, that doesn’t sound right - Part Six:Freakshow Sunday, 30-Apr-2000 18:41:50
Part Six: Freakshow “I ran a quick check on my Knightcave computers,” the Dark Knight reported, pulling his miniskirt down to cover more of his thighs. “There’s no mention of a Destiny Circus in the last thirty years anywhere in the US or Europe. Before that there was a carnival of that name but it was destroyed in a mystery fire, with no survivors.” “So Visionary was right,” Finny realised with surprise. “How did he know this place wasn’t on the up and up?” “More importantly, were those tickets given to spiffy by accident?” DK frowned. “And was this an attempt to get at spiffy the Mayor of Almost Everywhere, or through the ferned phenomenon at the superhero community of Paradopolis?” “What else do we have to go on?” the Makluan wondered. “There’s something wrong with this place,” DK noted, departing from his usual logical analysis to express a hunch. “Ever since we got here I’ve felt as if something was trying to dull my thinking processes, to lull me into a false sense of security.” “Carnivals are happy, lively places,” Foom suggested. “There are very dark shadows here, and I don’t see any joy behind the plastic smiles of the carny folk,” the urban legend replied. “There’s only one place to go for an answer.” Finny glanced over towards Colonel Destiny’s trailer. “Let’s do it,” he resolved. “Quake!” thundered Donar as he recognised his old enemy, the one who had now given him two major concussions. “Verily I shalt smite thee with the full fury of Mjalcolm till thou art sent spinning back to the false future from whence thou crawlest!” “There’s no-one to save you this time,” the marauder from the future who had the combined powers of many of the Lair Legion promised, hammering the hemigod down into the ring and following with a shattering barrage of energy bursts. “I art not in need of saving,” snarled Donar, bouncing Mjalcolm off Quake’s skull. “Thou, however, wilt need a new set of false teeth ere I am finishethed.” “Get all your threats in now, little godling, while you can still speak!” “Ghostie, why didn’t you mention earlier that one of the Lair Legion’s most unstoppable supervillains was waiting in this tent?” Lisa asked for information. “It sort of slipped my mind,” apologised the Space Ghost. “Is it that important? Donar always wins these battles anyway.” “Donar has never defeated Quake on his own, but he had been beaten within an inch of his life on a couple of occasions.” “Ah,” Space Ghost shrugged. “My mistake.” “Fear not, milady,” called the battered Ausgardian. “Twas merely bad luck. I am certain to prevail gainst this felon this time. Mine breath is stronger than he is!” “That’s it,” warned Quake. “This time I’m thrashing you the extra inch.” Donar literally tore through the canvas in a parabolic arc that would land him somewhere in the car park, to the dismay of one unlucky Ford Taurus owner. “Let’s see if he dares come back,” the supervillain leered, swatting Space Ghost aside and reaching out for Lisa. “Now he’s annoyed me!” SG said to no-one in particular. “Spaaaaaannnnkkkk Raaaaayyyyy!!!!” Some property of Space Ghost’s bizarre weapon was that it impacted for the same effect no matter how invulnerable its recipient might be. Quake screamed in agony as his backside received a severe ministration, and hit Space Ghost with the tentpole until it stopped. “Now my pretty,” the marauder declared, “you may surrender to me, knowing that Quake is the strongest one there is.” “Oh, I don’t know about that, you big bully” scowled Lisa as he grabbed at her. “I summons the inconceivable Yurt!” “She’s done what?!!” Colonel Destiny snarled at the Suicide Blonde. “What do you mean she’s summonsed the Yurt?” “Well, you know Lisa’s ability to drag any entity she can name from any corner of the Parodyverse,” the lethal sideshow woman reminded the ringmaster. “And you know how hard it is to block her power. Where the hell does she draw the energy from to bring about trans-cosmic teleportations, anyway?” “The master will tell you after we’ve dissected her,” snarled Destiny. “In the meantime, channel all reserve power to heave that bloody monster back where it came from before it wrecks our entire operation.” “I warned you about bringing in outsiders on this job,” the Mirror Murderer muttered. “We could have handled Donar without this Quake bozo anyway.” “I’m an outsider,” Suicide Blonde pointed out to the creature of sharpened glass shards. “Care to try calling me a bozo?” “Just divert all power not needed for illusions, restraint, and monitoring to getting rid of the Yurt,” Colonel Destiny commanded. “And try to keep a lid on the rest of them, for Death’s sake! How are the others doing?” “Vasto’s got CrazySugarFreakBoy!, Hatman, and ManMan on the ropes,” Suicide Blonde noted from the monitors. “Mystic Morgana’s managed to get her three targets possessed. NTU-150’s lifting about ninety tons now, fighting off the toxins in his blood stream, running low on energy. Then his girlfriend dies. And Dr Loveray’s clearly enjoying himself with his victims since all monitors are off – and you know what that means.” “That just leaves Fin Fang Foom and his mysterious friend unaccounted for,” the Colonel reckoned. “And they should be coming through the trailer door – now!” A Makluan dragon ripped the roof of the camper van to the surprise of the three carnival folks inside. DK’s stun grenades shattered the Mirror Murderer and sent Suicide Blonde reeling. “How irritating when heroes muff their cues,” Colonel Destiny grumbled. He gestured, and Finny and the Dark Knight vanished. Visionary picked himself from under the rubble of his office and crawled from behind his upturned desk. “Cheryl!” he called. His wife lay sprawled unconscious on the other side of the room. Flapjack was also unmoving, but Nats and Zemo were dragging themselves to their feet. “You dare attempt to assassinate Heinrich Zemo!” the Baron demanded of Nats, pinning the stunned flying delivery boy to the wall with one hand. “I didn’t… How could I know..?” choked Bill Reed. “Ackkkk!” “The explosion was not intended to kill you,” a grim deep voice from the doorway announced. “It was merely a side-effect of the dimensional gate required for my arrival.” Visionary, Nats, and Zemo swung round to see the huge, sinister form of Dark Thugos glaring at them. Next: Messenger gets nasty, Enty gets nastier, and Lisa gets nastier yet. Oh, and Dark Thugos is the nastiest of all. The mystery villain revealed at last by... the Hooded Hood |
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Copyright © Looksmart, Ltd. 1997-1999.
All rights reserved.
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#46: Untold Tales of the Lair Legion against the Carnival of Destiny, or Send in the Clowns – no wait a minute, that doesn’t sound right - Part Seven: The Coconut Shy Tuesday, 02-May-2000 14:49:16
Part Seven: The Coconut Shy “No,” Messenger forced himself to say. “This is wrong.” “What’s wrong?” Dancer asked him, pressing her lips back onto his. “It’s never been more right. Would it help if I slipped my top off?” The postman caught her eager fingers and pried them off her buttons. “One minute we were discussing ethics, the next we’re wanting to copulate like rutting pigs,” he growled. “This stinks of mind-meddling.” “You’re right,” Shep forced herself to realise. “It was… it is… so strong. How did you manage to overcome it?” “I’m well known for being single-minded,” Messenger scowled. “Lucky for you I am.” “An amazing coincidence,” realised the Probability Dancer. “So what do we do now? A part of me just wants to lie back and let it happen.” “I find out who’s playing games with us. And I’d better find Go… Bry and Laurie also. They might have been affected as well.” “Perhaps you’d be safer staying here,” Dancer suggested. After all, she was the superheroine even if she couldn’t reveal it to her date. “I’ll deal with this.” “You’re the one who’s staying,” the postman insisted. “This is no situation for a civilian. I’ll tie you up and spank you if I have to… I mean, damn, that was the mind-effect talking, not me.” “We’d better both go,” Dancer decided. “Let’s find Laurie and Bryan.” “Let me just take out those surveillance cameras first,” Messenger replied, dipping into a rucksack he’d happened to bring along. “Quake! Dids’t thou thinkest that I could be beaten so easily!” shouted Donar, rampaging into the tent where the future-villain was holding Lisa hostage. “Surrender or I rip her head off,” Quake advised the hemigod of thunder. He was in a bad temper. The Yurt had now been teleported away again by the Carnival’s control systems, but not before the semi-sentient Russian peasant hut had got a few telling licks in. “Foul felon! Cease to hide behindeth the fair Lisa and let me thumpeth thee right mightily!” “Five seconds to surrender and beg on your knees for her life,” Quake chuckled. “Four. Three. Two. One…” Lisa concentrated and summonsed Donar to her side. Donar was ready and caught the villain with an upward-arcing swing of Mjalcolm. Lisa placed a strategic reinforced high-heel just there was a chink in the villain’s groin-armour and slipped out of Quake’s weakened grasp. Then she summonsed her angry and indestructible ginger cat to appear right inside Quake’s steel jockstrap “I don’t do the hostage thing now except on special dates,” she told the folded over enemy. “Remind me never to battle with thee,” gulped Donar. “Hey! Donar won!” objected Space Ghost, waking up. “That means I lost my five bucks.” The entire crowd watching the confrontation in the big top pulled neural disruptor guns and fired down at the arena. “Eeep,” eeped Lisa just before falling over. “Hah, the Oldmanson doth not need to think to be effective!” boasted Donar before he too sank to the ground. “I’ve won! I’ve won!” crowed Quake before he too succumbed to the effect. “You’re fired,” the barker told him. “Where are we?” Finny asked DK, looking around the sandy tunnels they had suddenly been transported to. “Sand soil composite in a strange packed formation with atypically huge granules,” the Dark Knight observed. “Also strange markings or scratchings on the surfaces, indicative of large multipedal life forms.” “You mean like giant fleas?” the Makluan checked. “Possibly,” DK agreed. “Although what species I’m not yet able to…” “Cross ones,” Finny told him, pointing over his shoulder. “Lots and lots of cross ones.” The urban legend spun around and sliced a Knightarang into the lead assailant. “I know what’s happened to us,” he warned his partner in crimebusting. “Somehow Destiny’s shrunk us into his Flea Circus!” Jaimie Bautista could smell the servos in his NTU-150 armour beginning to overheat and he knew he couldn’t fight off the tranquillisers in his bloodstream much longer. The escapologist Endgame and a horde of deformed freakish assistants circled round cackling and chortling as the hero strained to keep the hundred ton weight from slicing down to end his girlfriend’s life. “This… wasn’t a very well thought out trap, was it, Endgame?” he managed to ask his tormentor. “What do you mean?” the artiste demanded. “It was genius in its design and execution. The girl’s death will be due to your failure, and will haunt you during your many sad years as a pathetic, stumbling relic in our Carnival’s sideshow. Whatever worlds we visit, whatever bizarre dimensions we sojourn in, the rubes will flock to gawp at the crying cyborg.” “I mean,” NTU-150 grimaced, “that Tina’s a top-end telepath, and she’s linked her mind with mine and with one of your little midget assistants, allowing me to control what your dwarf has programmed into your computer systems which monitor all of this. It’s a little thing we Earth-rubes call a computer virus.” The first control surface flared into oblivion even as Jaimie spoke. “Ah, that’ll be it now,” the Lair Legion’s technologist noted. ManMan plunged Knifey into Vasto’s foreleg and distracted the house-sized frog long enough for Hatman to drag CrazySugarFreakBoy! free from the amphibian’s grasp. “I thought ManMan got paralysed by Vasto’s ray?” CSFB! panted. “He did,” Knifey told them. “His mind’s completely shut down, although it might be hard to notice the difference. Since he didn’t need his central nervous system just now I’m borrowing it.” “I thought he was fighting better,” Hatty noticed. He dragged on his fireman’s helmet and unleashed a gout of flame against the Wonder Frog. “This is cool!” CSFB! decided, bouncing over the frog’s head and clogging its eyes with silly string. He’s already tangled it’s hind legs with his infinitely extensible yo-yo string. “But what we really need are bi-planes buzzing overhead.” “What we need to do is collapse the tent on it,” Knifey advised. “Hatman presumably has some sort of flying chapeau?” “My Jets cap will do just fine for this,” Hatty agreed. Then Vasto flicked out an immensely long tongue, grabbed the capped crusader round the waist, and swallowed him whole. “Oh yuck!” Dreamchaser Foxglove winced. “This battle has got suddenly Cronenburg!” The tent collapsed just then anyway. “Ah, you’re awake,” Colonel Destiny noted of spiffy. “I was getting quite bored listening to the futile threats of your sea monkey friend. Perhaps you have some more original names to call me?” spiffy checked his surroundings: a circus cage on a wheeled wooden wagon. He flexed his fern to break free but found that the sophisticated alien inhibition field which was concealed in the gypsy scaffold was neutralising his powers. “Who are you? Why are you doing this?” he asked the traditional plot questions. “I am merely a dutiful servant of the great darkness,” Destiny explained. “And a businessman who is adding some unique attractions to his collection of assets. When Cap is chiselled out of that steel trap my dear Suicide Blonde put him in he’ll make an interesting addition to my gladiatorial ring. Trickshot will be a fine performer once my obedience worms have done their work on him. Yo is, of course, a creature of infinite potential. Even Paste Pot Pete will adorn a sideshow, since his unique composition seems to have allowed him to survive poison that would have killed an ordinary human. I have niches for every one of your little friends now that you are no longer required as superheroes on Earth.” “He’s been sent to take out the defenders of Paradopolis,” Banjooooo warned. “It’s part of a bid for planetary conquest.” “And who’s behind it this time?” spiffy demanded. “The Enemy? Zemo?” “Oh no,” Colonel Destiny answered, pausing dramatically for effect. “Your world is now the property of… Dark Thugos!” “Dark Thugos!” Baron Zemo snarled as he recognised the cosmic tyrant. “Didn’t you learn from your sister’s fate that Earth is off limits to alien invasion?” “I learned one thing from Kumari’s abortive attack on your pathetic world,” the tyrant of the Sol Empire replied. “Er, and that was?” Visionary asked nervously. Dark Thugos’ eyes flashed, and his all-powerful Entropy Beams arced across the room into Zemo, destroying him utterly, leaving only a villain-shaped scorched patch on the office wall. “Don’t give Zemo chance to interfere,” answered Thugos. Next: Zemo’s still dead, Exile’s heavy date, the awful truth about Dr Loveray, Suicide Blonde’s secret origin, and Finny and DK make their move. Shocks, thrills, spills, and a surprise ending from... the Hooded Hood |
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Copyright © Looksmart, Ltd. 1997-1999.
All rights reserved.
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#45: Untold Tales of the Lair Legion: All’s Fairground in Love and War, or Something Even More Wicked Than the Last Time We Ripped Off This Title from a Ray Bradbury Story This Way Comes Thursday, 04-May-2000 15:04:26
Part Eight: The Cabinet of Horrors Question: What do you do with an eighty-ton frog? Answer: Anything it wants you to. Sure, it’s an old joke, but the Lair Legion were rather plagued by outsized enemies just then. CrazySugarFreakBoy!, Hatman, and ManMan (currently controlled by Knifey, which explains how much sense he was making) were still struggling with Vasto the Wonder Frog (Hatty from inside Vasto the Wonder Frog) beneath the canvas of the Freak Show tent, all the while staving off random attacks by bearded ladies, trained attack poodles, and the learned pig. Exile was, um, let’s call it wrestling shall we kiddies, with Enormous Irma, the world’s fattest lady and champion raw pickle eater – and her bikini just wasn’t up to the challenge! And Finny and the Dark Knight were currently half an inch tall and facing the Flea Circus of Doom. The only big thing Enty was struggling with was a big problem, as his failing armour tried to keep the crushing weights and slicing blades from his true love Tina and she telepathically tried to stave off the effects of the narcotics pumped into his system. On the other hand, the very tiny computer virus they had introduced into the Destiny carnival’s alien control systems was going to have vast effects of its own. Watch. Over in the main ring, Hatman had finally got realised that he was in serious trouble against an unstoppable frog’s digestive tract. He fumbled deep in the multidimensional folds of his Hatility belt and dredged out his rarest headpiece: Donar’s spare helmet. Right now he felt the need of the power of a hemigod. “Now, varlet, thou shalt right mightily be smitethed into frogspawn!” he promised the amphibian of evil. “Way to go!” CSFB! exalted as Vasto squealed and rolled about under massive internal battering. With a warm plop the giant amphibian ejected Hatman and finally toppled onto the candy-floss stand (imagine the insurance claim). Donar would hurt like hell in the morning, but it was going to be worth it. “Don’t worry,” Knifey told CSFB! “The danger is passed.” “Dude, you need a new costume,” the wired wonder told his friend Hatman. “And a weeks worth of baths,” Hatty admitted. “Oh boys! Over here!” Sorceress called to the triumphant heroes. “Whitney! Am I glad to see you! Something very weird is happening here,” Hatty answered, picking himself up, flying over, and replacing his Donar helm with his usual standard H-cap. “You are correct,” Sorceress replied. “Drink this slushee quickly. It’s a matter of life and death.” “Okay,” Hatty agreed trustingly. It never once occurred to him that his lover had been possessed by the restless spirit of mass-poisoner Lucrecia Borgia. Well, not until he’d taken a swig of the poison in the polystyrene cup anyway. “What the…?” CrazySugarFreakBoy! gasped as Jay Boaz fell to the floor with gasping blue lips frothing. Then Cobra and Troia set about trying to kill him. They were trying even harder than usual. Troia had eschewed her usual spear in favour of an axe. Cobra was using a castrating scythe which remarkably she had brought with her to the fairground in case it was required. “I still need time to think through this religious thing, Christine!” the wired wonder cried as he fended off the determined assault. Sorceress dropped him from behind with a venom dart. “Two down,” she grinned evilly. “One to go.” Knifey turned ManMan round to face the three dangerous ladies. He didn’t think the odds were good. “Move over, Knifey,” a voice said inside Joe Pepper’s head. “Um…” Knifey worried. It was hard enough finding ManMan’s brain anyway without worrying about other squatters. “Get out. I need this body now. Do it.” “And you are…?” “Out!” the insistent voice cried, and suddenly Knifey was once again a sentient blade in ManMan’s – or whoever’s – grip. The Elvis impersonator dropped Knifey and raised his arms. “Winds of destiny, change,” he proclaimed. “Heh! I’ve always wanted to try saying that, but it sounds sucky even when coupled with a powerful sleep sorcery.” “A magic spell?” Knifey recognised. “Sorceress? Whitney, is that you in there?” “Yes. My body’s possessed right now and this one was vacant, so I borrowed it,” the Sorceress explained. She made some more finger-mangling gestures over her fallen form and that of her two companions. “There. I’ve awoken the spirits of Troia and Cobra in their minds. I think Boudicca and Lizzie Borden are in for a bit of painful psychic combat now. And now to deal with Ms Borgia!” ManMan’s body slumped to the mud as Whitney slipped out of it and went to battle to regain her own flesh. “My money’s not on the historical villainesses,” Knifey noted to nobody conscious. “What have you done to him?” Valeria wept as Dr Loveray dragged her back to his Tunnel of Love control room. “He’d never betray me like this. Never!” “A deal is a deal, my pretty,” the sadistic scientist noted. “I trust you accept that you are now my property to do with as I see fit?” Valeria shuddered. “Yes. I know the terms of my indenture. But I will never forget Derek. Never!” “Hmmm,” considered Dr Loveray. “We shall see whether you feel the same after I’ve introduced you to the lust maggots. You will be a most interesting subject, I think.” The slave girl gulped but kept her chin high. “Do your worst, vile monster,” she defied him. “I have learned that there is great evil in the world, but also great good. Your downfall will come.” “But it will be rather too late for you, my pretty little serf” Loveray leered, reaching for a jar of writhing purple worms. The razor letter caught him right in the throat. He gurgled disbelievingly once and fell backwards. The jar shattered and the maggots spilled out over his flesh. “The Messenger is never late!” Messenger proclaimed. “Way to slice the villain’s neck half off,” approved Lisette. “I’m starting to guess that you aren’t just a regular postman, are you?” “Sorry it took so long to rescue you,” Dancer told Valeria of Carfax. “We had to find Laurie and Bry and then they had to get their clothes back on and… well, never mind. Where’s Derek?” “Enormous Irma has got him,” Valeria gasped. “I’ll save him,” Bry Katz promised. “Besides, this I’ve got to see.” Dancer looked down at the fallen Dr Loveray. “Did you have to kill him?” she asked. “I mean, wasn’t it a bit…” She never got any further because the mangled maggot-ridden villain reached out and grasped her ankle. “Eeeeeekkkk!” A second razor letter severed the doctor’s hand, but already he was staggering towards his control panel. “Fools! Did you think Loveray the genius who designed all of this erotic-manipulating apparatus? It is we, the worms who are the true Dr Loveray!” his severed windpiple gurgled. “Eeew!” Lisette shuddered. “Watch out,” Dancer called. “There’s a chance that that control panel is now live.” “Writhe in helpless passion, my pretty toys!” Dr Loveray proclaimed, ignoring a warning he should really have listened to from somebody who alters probabilities. There was a short screech and the smell of burning flesh and toasted maggots. “I told him,” mourned Sarah Shepherdson. “He wouldn’t listen.” “We’ve got to figure out what’s going on round here,” Lisette decided. “Not that it wasn’t pretty good fun but something’s way off here. Who’s this Loveray, or his maggots, or whatever, and why did he need us to boff ourselves to death, and don’t you think the razor-letters kind of give the game away, Messenger!?” “Messenger?” Dancer puzzled. “The serial killer vigilante?” Messenger looked uncertain and stricken for a moment as he saw the disappointment in Shep’s eyes. “It’s necessary,” he told her; but he could see she disagreed. “What a touching denouement,” the Suicide Blonde commented, appearing in response to the silent alarms and gesturing to send the steel trailer walls bubbling out to seize Messenger, Valeria, and Lisette. Dancer improbably squirmed free and cartwheeled towards the woman. The Blonde caused the floor beneath Dancer to become mud, then transformed it back to steel once Sarah was well sunk in it. After that it was a simple matter to transform the gases the captured quartet were breathing into something to send them to sleep. “They should have left collecting the whole assembly to me,” the voluptuous villainess commented. A powerful energy bolt burst around her. It should have slammed her into, possibly through the wall, since Exile was mad as hell. As it was she simply dismissed it. “Ah, two more heroes for the circus of oddities,” she noted. “You… he… I’m gonna wipe you all out…” spluttered Exile. “Good superhero banter, cuz,” G-Eyed observed. He too directed a force blast at Suicide Blonde but she only laughed as it ignored her. She gestured and solidified the air around the heroes into concrete. “I’m immune to the direct effects of your powers, little boys,” she told them. “Just like you two cannot be transformed into other matter by me. That’s why I’ve got to restrain you indirectly. After all, it wouldn’t do to let any harm come to my two favourite cousins now, would it?” “Quite a collection we’ve made on this world,” Colonel Destiny smiled, smoothing his walrus moustache and admiring the long line of heroes shackled in power-suppressing cages before him. “I think we can use most of them once they’ve been suitably… trained.” “We’re not finished yet,” Lisa warned the proprietor of the sinister cosmos-travelling carnival. “You may have captured us, but our leader is still free and preparing to act. You haven’t ever faced the wrath of Visionary, have you?” “No,” Destiny admitted, “but I’m afraid I have read his dossier.” “Damn,” Lisa breathed. “In taking you and the Abandoned Legion I have eliminated the vast majority of the organised superhero defence of your world. My master has already dealt with the principal antagonist who was likely to interfere with his plans.” “He’s working for Dark Thugos, the evil me!” spiffy warned. “That is, the evil me from a parallel dimension where I became an all-powerful worshipper of Death, not the evil me that killed me once and replaced me in the Lair Legion or the evil me spelled backwards from the future or any of the other evil mes.” “Usually when characters get as complicated as spiffy they get killed off for their own good,” noted Trickshot. “Tell thy master Dark Thugos that when I getest out of this cage I art going to kick his ass right verily across the Parodyverse,” Donar demanded. “Yo is thinking that the cute hemigod of thunder is to being the one to be doing it too,” Yo added. “That’s very inspiring,” Colonel Destiny responded, “but I’m afraid you have all been shanghaied by the carny now. Soon you will no more remember your previous selves than the creatures serving me now do theirs. You were great heroes once. Now you are mere sideshows. I shall enjoy degrading you into your new roles.” “We’ll find a way to stop you,” Cap assured him (he had been chiselled out of the material encasing him). “Unlikely,” the reassembled Mirror Murderer snorted. “According to these computer readouts, the only members of your team still struggling are… Mickey Mouse and Bugs Bunny?” “What?” Colonel Destiny frowned. “What’s happening to my command and control systems?” Lisa looked across at Space Ghost. “Enty repair job?” Space Ghost looked back. “Has to be,” he grinned. “Hey, Mirror Muddler. I’m gonna break out of here in about five minutes and then I’m gonna get me seven years of bad luck.” “That’s Mirror Murderer,” snarled the multi-faceted creature of razor-sharp glass. “Not after five seconds with a Spank Ray,” promised SG. “We’ve lost the gravity controls on NTU-150’s deathtrap,” Destiny snarled. “He’s tearing free of his bonds. He’s grabbing Endgame. He’s… ouch, that had to hurt.” “Fortunately the narcotics in him cannot be resisted any longer,” noted Mystic Morgana. “See there he is, slumped unconscious. And his woman is already imprisoned. Two more for the gallery, although you’ll have to lobotomise the girl, she’s too dangerous otherwise.” “Agreed,” Colonel Destiny answered. “I think that about wraps it up, my fallen heroes. You’ve run out of rescuers.” The flea circus tank shattered and a three foot dragon broke out. “Not quite, Destiny,” the miniaturised Makluan squeaked. “Prepare to meet thy Foom!” Next: In the concluding part of UT#46, the heroes of the Parodyverse vs the Destiny Carnival. It’s payback time, but Colonel Destiny has one last nasty surprise up his sleeve Reposted after a vicious attempt by InsidetheWeb to lose this segment, with apologies for the final line from the Hooded Hood |
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Copyright © Looksmart, Ltd. 1997-1999.
All rights reserved.
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#46: Untold Tales of the Lair Legion against the Carnival of Destiny, or Send in the Clowns - Part Nine The Greatest Show on Earth Monday, 08-May-2000 16:32:52
Part Nine: The Greatest Show on Earth “You bastard! You killed Zemo!” Visionary stammered. He was still cradling the fallen form of his wife Cheryl and he wondered if this was the moment when he finally went back into oblivion. “You can’t do that!” Nats gasped. “Zemo’s the main archvillain. It’s not allowed!” “He was the main archvillain,” the Tyrant of the Sol Empire warned. “That title now belongs to me. As does your planet. Tell your authorities that my representatives will arrive to take control at noon tomorrow. That is all.” There was a flash of teleporting energies as the conqueror of Earth returned to his planning. “I have a really big headache,” Nats complained. Then, glancing at the silhouette on the wall he added, “Of course, it could be worse.” “I think the whole planet is about to have a really big headache,” worried Visionary. The unfairness of it all suddenly descended on him. “I resigned, dammit!” he complained. Nobody cared. Exile shattered the block of concrete surrounding him with a discharge of energy. Goldeneyed teleported out of his own prison. “Cousin?” Exile repeated. “Xander said there was a third relative, with the power to manipulate matter.” “Here I am,” the Suicide Blonde grinned. She caused a three ton block of granite to coalesce above Exile’s head. “And here’s the matter.” G-Eyed teleported Derek out of the way just on time. “We shouldn’t be fighting and stuff,” he told the villainess. “We should be, like, swapping origins and so on.” “No,” considered the Blonde, changing the air around the heroes into radium gas, “No, on the whole I think I’d prefer to just kill you and get over with it. That way I can inherit your powers and progress my long range plans.” Exile sucked the radioactivity out of the atmosphere before it could do harm. “Inherit our powers? If we die you get our abilities?” “You didn’t know?” Suicide Blonde smirked, splashing a sheet of lave down towards her enemies. “I suppose not. If you had, one of you would have murdered the other long before this. But in the end, there can be only one.” “Didn’t Queen do a song about that?” Bry asked, vaulting over the molten material and trying to get close enough to grapple the lethal villainess. The Suicide Blonde brought the two steel walls together on G-Eyed and Exile with shattering impact. “I prefer heavy metal myself,” she told them. “Well, I’m sorry to press you, but I need your powers now, and Dark Thugos has other things for me to do. Goodbye.” G-Eyed, having teleported himself and Derek away at the last moment, appeared directly behind the Blonde. Exile hammered into her and sent her tumbling unconscious to the floor. “We are the Champions,” he told her. “Ah, you have assumed your largest shape to escape my little trap,” Colonel Destiny understood as the angry shrunken Fin Fang Foom engaged Mirror Murderer with lethal atomic fire. The glass creature shrieked as parts of his body fused under the heat, but replied with a shower of lethal razor fragments that slashed the Makluan from snout to tail. “Most ingenious, but the question is how long you expect to survive a combat that even your full-sized self would have difficulty managing.” “No,” Finny growled, diving again at the Mirror Murderer. “The question is, while I’m doing this, where’s the Dark Knight?” “If your answer is short-circuiting the mechanisms that hold the Lair Legion in their cells, you win a prize,” the Dark Knight added (in a very tiny voice, since he was still only half an inch high just now). There was a flare from the computer panel and the lights went out. “Lair Legion line-up!” shouted a fern-wielder in the dark. “We don’t say that anymore, you has-been,” an arrogant archer called back. “Sweetums, are you there?” “Sure Elyse. Just stay calm and I’ll be with you as soon as I’ve plastered Destiny across his carnival.” “Hey, Mirror Murderer? Spaaaaaaaaaaaaannnnkkkkkkkkkk Raaaaaaaaaaaaaayyyyyyyyyyy!” “Let the glory of Gail illuminate this place!” A shimmering white fire chased over the walls as Donar demanded it, revealing the battle in full swing. The combat spilled out of the control trailer into the carnival proper. Various denizens of the circus raced forward to join in: killer clowns, stilt-walkers with ray guns, mutants and robots and monsters and freaks, all leaping into the fray. The fairgoers responded by screaming and running, taking photos, taking bets, and joining in in roughly equal proportions. “Morgana, this is getting out of hand!” Destiny judged. “Take them down!” “One minute, crone!” called Sorceress, appearing in full control of her own body and spoiling for a fight. “I want to show you my opinion of necromancy.” One corner of the battlefield went very dark as two practitioners of the occult arts had the arcane equivalent of a vicious catfight. “It’s over, Colonel,” Lisa warned the carnival proprietor. “Not quite, madame,” Destiny announced. He brandished his cane, flicked the top off it, and depressed the button inside. “I came to collect the Lair Legion, and collect them I will.” spiffy barrelled the white-suited carny owner onto the ground and wrestled the stick from him. “What did you do?” he demanded. There was a vworping noise as of reality being rent asunder by might engines. “My carnival travels from place to place by means of cunning alien technologies,” Colonel Destiny laughed. “I am delivering the Lair Legion to the place I agreed to, where overwhelming forces and suitable containment technology have been prepared for you. I think even you might have some difficulty with twenty-thousand trained, battle-armoured alien shock troops, all merely waiting for your arrival to bring you down!” There was a horrible mangling sound as the computer virus which Enty and Tina had released into the systems interfered with the transit engines. There was a feeling of being stretched like a rubber band then catapulted over immense distances. There was a feeling that something had gone terribly, terribly wrong. Everybody picked themselves up after the strange effect, except Colonel Destiny whom Cap hit until he stayed down. “Hah! It didn’t work!” Troia 215 laughed. “Paradopolis is still out there. We haven’t moved.” “Then why is the sky full of burning nebulas and ancient alien stars?” Banjoooooo pointed out. “Oh dearie Yo! Yo is thinking that by accident we have to be transporting the whole of Paradopolis to another planet,” Yo worried. And the pure thought being was right. Coming soon: Join our heroes and a cast of roughly six million Paradopolitians on a distant alien planet. Watch Lisa think of good excuses for them all being there. Hear the Mayor comment on the situation. Worry about the consequences of the Destiny Carnival experience. See Visionary as the last remaining Legionnaire on our planet. Oh yes, Dark Thugos conquers the Earth as well. Let's try this again without the annoying underlining if the ISE's allow it. Can we have an Edit function on our new board? - The Hooded Hood |
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Copyright © Looksmart, Ltd. 1997-1999.
All rights reserved.