Part one

   Banjooo marched through the Lair Legion's entrance hall, absently tugging at his cuff links. He hated normal attire, and it had taken a considerable amount of effort to squeeze his Sea Monkey anatomy into even the most radically altered tuxedo. Ah, well… that was the price of being a head of state, he sighed to himself.

      The doorbell behind him rang, and Banjooo promptly ducked. Sure enough, the stunner guns deployed from the walls right on miscue. This time, they did not fire, but instead spun wildly on their mounting arms, whacking a potted fern and sending it sailing though the air into the living room. Zebulon, the former elf, and current apprentice/maintenance man for NTU, quickly ran to examine the security system. "Airborne foliage." He said critically, making a note on his clipboard. "That's a new one."

      "Methinks the very same incident didst occur yesterday" Donar noted.

      Zebulon gave him a withering look. "That was FLAMING airborne foliage" he explained in his squeaky little voice. "A potted begonia, if I remember correctly. Totally different mechanics, I assure you."

      Jarvis was busy trying revive Visionary, who was lying face down on the carpet with the shattered remains of the fern adorning the back of his head.

      "Boy, does that bring back memories" spiffy said.

      "Yeah" Jarvis agreed. "Get the smelling salts, will you?" He looked up as the King of the Sea Monkeys strode by.  "Banjooo!" he called, rushing after the aquatic Legionnaire, "It's about time you showed up! We just got word that Zemo is plotting to…"

      "Save it" Banjooo replied curtly. "It's my day off. I've got a kingdom to run, you know."

      "Well, that's just it…" Jarvis explained. "It's about this dinner tonight…"

      "Out of the question" Banjooo cut in. "Tonight, I am 'His Majesty, Banjooo, ruler of the undersea Kingdom of the Sea Monkeys', you're obviously mistaking me for 'Banjooo, Legionnaire-who-might-actually-give-a-rat's-ass-what-Zemo-is-up-too.' Happens all the time."

      "Uh-huh." Jarvis answered. "Ooookay, if that's how it has to be. Would 'his majesty' consent to escorting our newly elected Lair Legion Public Relations Consultant to the reception? I notice that you were planning on attending this dinner stag."

      "Ummmm… It's not Yo, is it?" Banjooo asked hesitantly. While he, like ever other Legion member, was quite fond of the odd Pure Thought Energy Legionnaire, he wasn't sure that he wanted to go on a date with him/her. "I mean, Yo-woman is cute and all…"

      "No… no…" Jarvis answered, grinning slightly. "She's not even officially a Legionnaire."

      "Well, I suppose it wouldn't hurt to be courteous" Banjooo agreed magnanimously. Things might be looking up! Finding a date for these diplomatic functions was always a pain. Not that he had trouble attracting the opposite sex. Quite to the contrary. Being royalty, he was considered the most eligible bachelor at 20,000 leagues. The main problem was finding a woman without any ambitions to be Queen, with whom he could go on a casual date. Sea Monkey women were always trying to lure him into marriage… "Who is it?"

      Jarvis just smiled. "She's waiting in the kitchen."

      Banjooo checked his reflection in the hall mirror. Damn, he was a fine looking monkey… He poked his head into the kitchen.

      His date's back was to him, but he wasn't complaining. Her blonde hair was up, showing a graceful neck. She was wearing a light blue evening gown, low-cut to reveal a shapely back descending into an equally shapely…

      "Ah… Cheryl, you're escort for the evening has arrived…" Tina noted from the kitchen table, her eyes twinkling with suppressed mirth.

      Cheryl spun around to face him and gave him a warm smile. "Banjooo! You look wonderful!" she said. Her lightly freckled face smiled warmly.

      "Gah!" Banjooo cried, shocked.

      Cheryl shot Tina a questioning glance.

      "He was just thinking that you looked good, too…" the telepath explained with a grin. "He was especially impressed by your…"

      "Cheryl?!" Banjooo finally managed to blurt out, just in time. "You're the PR consultant?"

      The married woman made a wry face. "I'm afraid so" she admitted. "Jarvis talked me into it, since I wouldn't accept a full time post as a Legionnaire. I tried to tell him I was an engineer, not a diplomat, but he said that anyone who could keep Visionary under control as long as I have was wasting her 'people skills'…"

      "He's right, you know" Tina reassured her. "Of course, I don't envy your job of trying to explain the Legion's actions to the public" she added knowingly.

      "Don't be so smug, dear." Cheryl shot back with a smile. "I hear he has you pegged as the Lair's new Chief of Intelligence."

      Banjooo used the time her explanation provided to radically alter his thinking patterns. This was, after all, a married woman and a friend of his… Married women had no business dressing like that, he decided firmly. It must qualify as false advertising, or something.

      "Lisa helped her pick it out." Tina supplied, with a nod towards Cheryl's outfit.

      "Uh… thanks" Banjooo said, casting her an irritated look. He turned back to Cheryl. "Well… I suppose we should be going"

      "All right" Cheryl agreed, gathering her things. They walked back towards the front door, passing the still groggy Visionary as Jarvis and spiffy helped him to his feet. "Bye, dear" she called, ducking under the still wildly spinning stunner guns, which Zebulon was desperately hanging onto, riding them like some bizarre mechanical bull. "Don't wait up, we'll probably be late."

      "I almost got it!" Zebulon assured them in his squeaky voice as he went whizzing by, frantically trying to make some repairs in mid flight. Banjooo was just happy to make it under the rapidly whirling elf without getting barfed on.

      Cheryl was waiting for him on the front porch. "I've never been to the White House before" she admitted. "What is it like?"

      "Not so different from any other house" Banjooo assured her. There was the sound of rending metal from the entrance behind them, followed by what sounded suspiciously like a muskrat hitting the inside of the front door with a thud and a squeak. Well, either a muskrat, or a two-foot-tall, formerly disgruntled elfin handyman…

      "Not so different?" Cheryl asked, raising an eyebrow.

      "With a few notable exceptions." Banjooo conceded.

Part two

"His Majesty, Banjooo-King of the Sea Monkeys, ruler of the Undersea World, and…" the announcer paused and checked his guest list, "…a Ms. Cheryl."

      "Well, that was anti-climitic" Cheryl noted wryly as she and Banjooo entered the reception hall in the east wing of the White House. "I need to get myself a title some time."

      Banjooo made a face. "Don't bother, they just take up perfectly good space on your business cards." He looked at her thoughtfully. "Although, I suppose I could bestow one upon you, if you like…" he tapped his chin thoughtfully. "How about, 'Her Grace, The Lady Cheryl, Dutchess of Lake Superior'? It's got a nice ring to it."

      Cheryl laughed. "Is Lake Superior even a part of your Kingdom? I hadn't realized it was stocked with Sea Monkeys."

      "Only those Sea Monkeys who manage to annoy me." Banjooo admitted. "Lake Superior is pretty damn cold."

      Cheryl arched an eyebrow. "I thought you claimed that Sea Monkeys could withstand any degree of cold water?"

      "Oh, we can live in it…" Banjooo said. "But that doesn't mean we like it. Of course, the subjects who really manage to piss me off end up dodging lamprey in Lake Erie…" He noticed a large, rat-like man striding purposefully towards them, followed by a tide of small, furry rodents. "Aw, crap. Here comes Urwin, King of the Lemmings… This is gonna be ugly."

      "Why?" Cheryl asked.

      "The Sea Monkeys and the Lemmings have been at war for generations."

      "Lemmings? Those little animals that run off cliffs into the ocean in mass suicides?"

      "Their 'Invasion Forces'" Banjooo confirmed.

      Cheryl looked dubious. "Are you saying that lemmings can breath underwater?"

      "No" Banjooo answered with a shrug. "No-one ever claimed that they were *successful* invasion forces... Urwin won't accept the fact that they all drown. He thinks we hold them in POW camps. He hates me with a passion."

      "Sounds like a clear and present danger to me" Cheryl noted mildly as the rodent king worked his way towards them.  "Don't you have some sort of Secret Service to intercept threats to your person?"

      "Not any more" Banjooo replied. "Our military determined that it would take exactly 298,543 Sea Monkeys all lined up to stop a .22 calibre bullet."

      "Do I want to know HOW they determined this?" Cheryl asked.

      "Er… probably not." Banjooo conceded. "Considering that I'm bullet proof, we figured that wasn't the best use of monkeypower anyway. As a result, I'm mostly on my own…"

      "Banjooo!" Urwin roared as he finally made it through the crowd to confront them, his massive herd of lemmings lined up behind him. "By the Geneva convention, I demand that you let my people go!!!"

      Banjooo calmly polished his nails on the lapels of his tuxedo. "I'm afraid the Sea Monkeys never signed the Geneva accords. Besides, I've told you before, your troops all sink like rocks. You'd think the little balls of fluff would be more buoyant…"

      "Lies! Every word!!!" Urwin delcared. "You won't get away with this!!! I'll be speaking to the UN about your lemming rights violations!!!"

      Banjooo sneered at him. "Go jump off a…"

      "Excuse me, your majesty…" Cheryl interceded, "but I believe I hear the orchestra warming up, and my date promised me the first dance." She smiled sweetly at the King of Suicidal Rodents as she firmly lead the huge Sea Monkey away from the impending scene.

      "Smooth" Banjooo conceded once they had left the lemming horde behind.

      "I figure the Lair's Public Relations would fare better if I wasn't forced to explain to the press why one of our more prominent members started a brawl with a giant weasel in the White House." Cheryl answered. "Plus, I don't get to do as much ballroom dancing as I'd like…"

      "Uh… You really want to dance?" Banjooo said uncomfortably. "I mean, we don't do a lot of it underwater… One tends to float off the dance floor…"

      "Nonsense" Cheryl declared firmly as they took their place on the floor. She guided one of his hands to her hip and grasped the other firmly. "It's a simple waltz-two forward, one back… You'll do fine."

      Banjooo had to admit, the experience wasn't as bad as he feared. He only stepped on Cheryl's feet five times or so, and only once, when he became a bit too enthusiastic, did he trample another couple with his huge Sea Monkey form.

      "So" Cheryl asked once the music finally stopped and the guests made their way into the dining room. "Why *did* you need a date for tonight?"

      "Well… the truth is, I didn't want to ask anyone in the Parodyverse." Banjooo said. "I kind of have a girlfriend…"

      "…And you're hesitant to bring her here," Cheryl continued for him, "because the Lair is filled with insane freaks, of whom she probably wouldn't want to come within one hundred yards. Does that about cover it?"

      "Ummm… aren't you supposed to be making the Lair sound good?" Banjooo asked the PR consultant.

      "I'll leave that last part off the press release" Cheryl assured him as they took their seat at the table. "But I wouldn't worry about her reaction, especially if she's already dating a 75 foot tall Sea…"

      "Would either of you like some wine?" a waiter asked, cutting into the conversation. It was Visionary.

      "Gah!" Banjooo cried in surprise. "I haven't touched her! And no matter what Tina said, I sure wasn't thinking about… uh… um…. you know."

      "Ummmm… okay" Visionary answered, confused as usual. "Actually, I'm here undercover. It seems that Zemo is planning to…"

      "I don't want to hear about it!" Banjooo snapped. "I'm off duty!"

      "Is this something that I'm likely to have to explain to the press later, dear?" Cheryl asked mildly.

      "Probably" Visionary admitted. "You see, Zemo is…"

      "Please, dear" Cheryl cut him off. "Somehow I know the truth would only make my job harder. And yes, I'm now absolutely *sure* that I'd like some wine…"

      "Ummm… okay" Visionary answered. "Red or white?"

      "What's being prepared for dinner?" Banjooo asked.

      Before Visionary could answer, there came a thunderous crash from the kitchen. "Art thou mad?" a familiar voice roared. "You dare add yet more capers? I say thee nay!!!!"

      "The Legion has infiltrated the kitchen staff?" Banjooo asked mildly.

      Visionary nodded.

      "Perhaps I'll just stick to the dinner rolls on the table." Cheryl said, holding up her wine glass to be filled.

      "Good plan" Banjooo agreed clinking their glasses together in a mock toast.

Part three

"Zees es ahn outraghe!" The French ambassador cried indignantly.

      Cheryl sighed. This was the part of the evening that she dreaded most. She made a mental note to watch more Pink Panther movies so as to better understand the nuances of the Parodyverse French accent. Then she made a mental note to kick Jarvis in the teeth for talking her into taking this job. "Really, ambassador... the Parodyverse portrayal of the French isn't all bad."

      "Yew ahre steel 'arboring ze dictahtohr knewn aahz "speeffy"!!!"

      "Um... Give me a moment to run that through the Universal Translator..."

      "SPEEFFY!!!! YEW AHRE 'ARBORING SPEEFFY!!!"

      "Oh! spiffy!" Cheryl at least understood that part. "According to my data, the spiffy that is currently an active member of the Lair Legion is not the same spiffy that was tyrannical despot over your country."

      "Ahnd what proof dew yew halve of zees?" he asked defiantly.

      "Well..." Cheryl groped for an answer, "our spiffy doesn't wear a fern."

      The ambassador just looked at her with a mixture of contempt and pity.

      Cheryl decided that there might be a better place to kick Jarvis than in the teeth. "Soooo..." she said, desperate to change the subject. "How about that Jerry Lewis?"

      "ZARE 'E EES!!!" The ambassador suddenly screamed, pointing across the room. "ZARE EES ZAT MONSTAIR!!!"

      "Jerry Lewis is here?" Cheryl turned in the direction he was pointing. No Jerry. However, spiffy was there, busing some dishes off a table. "Oh dear"

      "Soooo, Chelsea..." Space Ghost was saying, "I know I may look like a chauffeur and all, but I've got my own place, and I was kind of thinking that maybe later we could get together and..."

      "I thought that you were here to stop Zemo!" Banjooo interjected before Space Ghost could go any farther and force the Secret Service to hand him his ass.

      "Well, yeah, sure..." Space Ghost replied as Chelsea made her escape. "But, come on... everybody else is hooking up around here..." He watched the college student flee into the west wing. "Besides... I think she digs me."

      Jarvis wandered over to the two of them. "I just heard from NTU, and he's pretty sure that the bomb is located somewhere near the dessert table" he informed them. "So here's the plan... Banjooo, you look like you could eat your weight in pastries..."

      "Excuse me!" Banjooo retorted. "I'll have you know, for a 75 foot tall Sea Monkey, I'm quite svelte!"

      "Whatever" Jarvis replied. "Anyway, I just need you to take a fork and pull a chair up to the dessert tray... Then, while you eat everything in sight as a distraction, we slip Lisa under the table to disarm the bomb with no-one the wiser."

      "How many times do I have to tell you? I'm off-duty!" Banjooo snapped. Besides, there was no way he was going to sit down at a table that Lisa was hiding under...

      "I'm afraid that wouldn't work anyway..." Starseed whispered, walking by with a tray full of drinks. "Lisa was just picked up by the Secret Service. Apparently, Hillary had wanted posters of her distributed to all the agents..."

      Jarvis gave Banjooo an irritated look. "Still, I don't see why you can't just do this little thing for us, even if you are here representing your kingdom" he said. "What, do we embarrass you?"

      Just then there was a horrifying screech and a black-and-white cat went tearing through the room. Close on it's heals was a lopsided, huge-footed, purple bunny, happily careening off a portrait of Jimmy Carter as it negotiated the corner in hot pursuit.

      Visionary and Yo suddenly burst into the room and skidded to stop in front of their teammates.

      "Er..." Visionary began warily, "You didn't happen to see..."

      "That-a-way" Starseed supplied helpfully with a jerk of his thumb.

      "Oh... Thanks" Visionary replied. He and Yo were quickly off again.

      Jarvis looked at Banjooo. "Okay, but that was more of an isolated..."

      "For the last time!" Lisa shouted as she was lead forcibly through the room by a grim faced man in a black suit and sunglasses. "I was simply looking for a bomb in that underwear drawer! I don't go for married men!" Another agent appeared to help drag the struggling lawyer out of the room. "Besides, I prefer guys of his girth to wear boxers! He doesn't really have the butt for all those thongs!!!"

      Jarvis heaved a heavy sigh and gave Banjooo a look of defeat. "Have a pleasant evening, your Majesty."

      "Actually..." spiffy was saying, "I have indeed met Dan Quayle."

      "Oh, really?" the senator's wife replied. "Did he and Marilyn invite you to their lovely place in the Hamptons?"

      "No... actually he tried to blow me up with the aid of disgraced Olympic figure skater Tonya Harding. The last I saw of him, he was being hauled away by the Parodiopolis P.D.. More wine?"

      "Oh, no thank you. So, you were involved in that? Such awful business..." she replied, then leaned in to whisper. "I hear that he was one week from parole when he was forced to make a vanity license plate that read "potato". They now have to keep him heavily sedated."

      "Tragic" spiffy agreed as he moved on. Outside the kitchen door, he looked up to find an extremely angry looking man standing over him.

      "Ah shallenghe yew to a dewl" the man said cryptically in the worst French accent spiffy had ever heard.

      "Come again?" spiffy asked.

      In response, the man pulled off his glove and slapped spiffy smartly across the face.

      spiffy put a hand to his cheek. "Ah" he replied. He then decked the snooty French bastard, sending him sprawling into a punchbowl.

      Cheryl rushed over, pulled the unconscious man's face from the beverages and glared at spiffy. "Do you have any idea how much paperwork this is likely to involve?" she asked, dropping the man's head back down with a 'sploosh'. Little bubbles began to rise from the bottom of the bowl. She walked over to spiffy and snatched the bottles of wine out of his hands. "I, for one, have better things to do with my life than to try and placate the French!" she said, yanking the corks out of the bottles.

      "Good news" Visionary said as he and Yo returned. "The bunny's locked up in the car, and the firemen are pretty sure that they can coax Socks down off the Washington Monument."

      "How the hell did a cat get on top of the Washington Monument?" Jarvis asked.

      "Quickly" Yo supplied helpfully.

      "Uh... right. Anything else?"

      "Lisa got away from the Secret Service." Visionary informed them. "Last I saw her, she was in the next room talking to 'Bubba'."

      Jarvis froze. "Excuse me" he said ominously as he stalked away.

      "Thank you, Mr. President" Lisa was saying. "As I tried to explain, it was all a big misunderstanding." She glanced over and saw Cheryl nearby with two empty wine bottles. "Excuse me, Sir, I'd like you to meet an associate of mine..." She waved the PR consultant over.

      Cheryl dumped the empty bottles on a passing waiter's tray and went to join the Legionnaire and the most powerful man in the free world.

      "Mr. President, may I present Mrs... er, Cheryl." Lisa introduced them awkwardly. "She's in charge of public relations for our little group."

      "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. President" Cheryl said politely. "If you have a moment, I'd love to talk to you about the many beneficial endeavors our group has undertaken, not just for the United States, but for the good of all mankind." She looked over his shoulder to see Jarvis heading their way. "Oh, what luck!" she said enthusiastically.  "Here's the leader of the Lair Legion right now!"

      Banjooo was sick of small talk. About the only interesting piece of news he had heard all night was some gossip about the French Ambassador being found passed out in a bowl of heavily spiked punch. Ah, well... the way those people go through wine it's a wonder the whole country's not in Alcoholics Anonymous. Hell, it was amazing that there were any working livers south of...

      "Argh! Leggo of me!" Jarvis yelled as he was dragged through the room by some burly Secret Service types. "I told you, I thought he was a different Bubba! Besides, I hardly touched him!"

      Cheryl entered the room next, looking thoroughly defeated. "I don't know about you..." she said wearily, "but I think I'm ready to call it a night."

      "I'm past ready" Banjooo agreed. They gathered their coats and exited the front door. "Well, that was interesting."

      "It certainly was" Cheryl agreed, "...and not exactly how I pictured it."

      "Actually, it went better than most of these functions." Banjooo informed her. "I told you the White House wasn't all that different."

      They passed a man sitting in the front-seat of a non-descript, black towncar. He seemed to be holding a detonator and chuckling ominously.

      "Good night, Herr Baron." Cheryl said politely as they walked by.

      "Eh? Oh... Good night, Fraulein" Zemo answered pleasantly. "You may need an umbrella, it looks like it might rain."

      They walked a ways further down the driveway. "So, do you think you'll bring your girlfriend here to meet everyone?" Cheryl asked.

      "I don't know" Banjooo answered. He paused while there was a near deafening explosion from behind them. Once the echo of the detonation subsided, he continued. "I'm not sure that our relationship could handle it yet. How about you? Do you think you can do the P.R. job?"

      Cheryl opened her umbrella as assorted pastries began to fall from the sky. "No comment" she answered.

      Banjooo nodded sagely. "You've got the proper phrases down pat" he said as cream puffs bounced off his gigantic Sea Monkey hide. "I'm betting you'll do just fine."