Mick crouched in the back of the abandoned bunker. Sounds like thunder from beyond the blast door caused him to flinch uncontrollably with every resounding boom. Someone had discovered him -- probably followed him during his last excursion to the dumpster behind the Blue Cafe -- and had called the Informant Hotline. Suspicious behavior among people with powers was monitored. Suspicious behavior among normals was squelched.
He wrapped himself in his threadbare blankets and awaited the inevitable, clutching the diary to his chest.
A teenage girl's diary. Such a small, seemingly insignificant thing. There were probably millions of them in the world, most penned by mundane girls living mundane lives, writing mundane entries. But this girl was different. She was blue. She was beautiful. She had powers. She was somebody. Whatever fate he met, he deserved. She had tried to dispose of the book in the surf. He had retrieved it and violated her privacy, negated her intentions. If a couple of Wolf Spiders crashed through that blast door and killed him, it was his own doing.
And what had he to live for? The day the two men from Y.I.K.E.S. had visited his home, he had lost everything he had ever known. He had charged out of his room, leapt up, and kicked one of them in the head. If the man's head had been a soccer ball, it would have been the best kick Mick had ever done. He had followed through by grabbing the diary out of the man's hand. After that he had run out the door, leaving his mother and father to face the remaining agent. The sharp report of gunfire told him all he needed to know. For two weeks he had lived in this bunker, living out of dumpsters and drinking collected rainwater.
He had finished reading the journal. The blue girl had high ideals -- ideals viral enough to spark a "youth movement" in the Isles. Lord Recluse might be an absolute dictator, but most of the soldiers of Arachnos still had children. In the loneliness of his solitude, her words had inspired him.
The worst part of it all was that now Arachnos knew about her. They would be watching her. If she stepped out of line, the wrath of Lord Recluse would come down on her and her friends and that, too, would be his fault.
The thunder beyond the door continued.
Mick turned to the back of the diary, where the "subversive" entries started. He ripped out a page, stuffed it into his mouth and started chewing. He almost choked when he tried to swallow it, but then remembered the plastic bottle of rainwater at his side. He drank a sip then ripped out another page. Then another. And another.
Even through the blankets he had snuggly wrapped around him, he could feel the temperature dropping. The blast door now alternately glowed red, then darkened and radiated cold. Then with a final boom, and a metallic groan, the door crumpled and fell off its hinges.
Larry called the "Serv'd!" team together in his office. A huge stack of subpoenas lay on his desk, with a brick holding them down as a paperweight. Larry ran his hand through his thinning hair, swearing as he burned his scalp with the cigar he was holding. Mobius Knight snickered.
"Larry, use the other hand," Mobius Knight said. "It still works, right?"
"Yes... ow... dammit."
"Okay, so what's with the big stack of papers, Larry?" Hephaestus 1 asked. "Are we serving papers on an entire neighborhood?"
"No," Larry said. "Just one specific club. SAC."
"SAC?" Heph asked. "Smash All Clowns?"
"We should be so lucky," the court liaison said. "You guys will be serving the Society of American Catgirls."
Heph's cybernetic "You've gotta be kidding me" eyebrow popped up. "Catgirls."
"Yes."
Mobius Knight rubbed his eyes. "Why us? I thought Porter and Hazlett were on the catgirl beat."
"They were," Larry said, "but I had to pull them from that duty. All of these summons on the desk are those two morons' backlog."
"What, they haven't been doing their job?" Heph asked.
"No, they seem to find themselves distracted whenever they go there. Something about naked catgirls, claws, fur, estrogen and such."
"Okay," Mobius Knight asked, "Why us?"
"Easy," Larry said. "Both of you are in committed relationships."
"So you're saying we got this assignment because we're whipped?"
Larry nodded. "To put it bluntly, yes. Moby, you're in a stable relationship as far as heroes go, and Heph, you just don't want to be set on fire."
Mobius Knight had a quizzical look on his face. "Uhm, who actually does want to be set on fire as part of their relationship?"
"Look, neither of you are single and looking, so you should have a better chance of resisting their feminine charms," Larry said.
Heph leaned back in the reinforced chair, putting his hands behind his head. "Well, I guess we just drop this off with the first catgirl we see and call it good, right?"
"No, you'll need to deliver them to Mynx when she shows up there for the meeting tonight," Larry answered.
"Tonight?" Heph said, startled.
"Yes, tonight, is that a problem for you, O'Flannagan?" Larry growled.
"Well, I was going to test my latest batch of beer tonight with my adorable little alien pyromaniac girlfriend," Heph said. "There would be beer. And snoo-snoo, as it were."
"Brain... hurting!" Moby said.
Larry paled visibly. "You sent my mind to a bad place, O'Flannagan. Never do that again."
"Fine, I will never mention snoo-snoo... with the woman I love... ever again," Heph said, pausing for effect to drive the mental image further into their minds.
"Wait for it," Moby said as a warning to Larry.
"This week," Heph said confidently.
Larry's head sank. "You're getting predictable, O'Flannagan."
Hephaestus 1 shrugged. "I'm a creature of habit, what can I say?" He picked up the large stack of papers and slid them into a courier bag. "I feel like I'm riding the morning Daily News route again," he said as he slung the bag over his shoulder.
"Nice man-purse there, Heph," Mobius Knight said.
"Shut up or I'll hit you with it," Heph shot back. "Or worse, make you wear it. Let's go."
The drive to the Society of American Catgirls meeting hall was short as it was at the north end of Skyway City. Heph looked around for a parking space and found one about a block away. "For Monday morning, this is pretty good," Heph said to the camera. "Everyone is at work now, and you're lucky to find on-street parking anywhere around here." Heph grabbed the courier bag and headed towards the meeting hall with Mobius Knight.
The meeting hall stood out against most of the businesses here. A driveway led right up to a well-lit car port, including a red carpet to the door. The red velvet ropes served to cordon off the carpet from the pavement. A large man near the door wearing all black, sunglasses and a cellphone earpiece monitored the two heroes, scowling the entire time. He scowled a little less when he noticed that Heph was still a head-and-a-half taller than him, and scowled even less when he saw Moby's katana in its scabbard.
"You guys ain't got business here," the doorman said with his Yards accent in full swing. "If ya want in, ya gotta wait until the show starts. An' ya gotta have ID."
Heph's cybernetic eyebrow raised over his larger eye. "Listen to this joker, Moby," he said as he pulled out his badge. "I'm with the Rhode Island District Courts, and I'm here to serve some paperwork to Mynx. Something about noise ordinance violations."
"Tough," the doorman said. "Ya got no business here. Scram."
"Make us," Heph said.
In an instant both heroes found themselves in a fountain a block away.
"Huh, what do you know?" the big blue cyborg said. "He made us scram."
"Yeah, he did. Now I'm going to make him regret that," Mobius Knight said.
"No blood! That way lies very bad things!" Heph said waving his hands in front of him.
"It'll be just a little blood, he won't miss it! Honest!" Moby said.
The two heroes returned where the doorman stood with a smirk on his face. "Back for more, huh? What've I gotta do, wish inta a cornfield or somethin'?" he said.
"No, you've just got to-" Mobius Knight said as the two heroes were teleported back into the fountain.
"- DIE DIE DIE!" the swordsman shouted as he drew his katana and cut through a statue of a water spewing cherub. He blinked. "Gah! I hate involuntary teleportation like that!"
"Round three, I think," Hephaestus 1 said.
The two heroes returned to the meeting hall one more time. The footsteps made the usual wet squelching noises that you'd hear from waterlogged shoes and socks.
The doorman grinned. "I knew you guys'd be back, an' that was even without my psychic powers!"
"So you're a mind-reader, too, I take it?" Mobius Knight asked.
"Yes, and if ya try that, I'll wish ya inta Lusca's favorite huntin' spot," the doorman said . "I'm readin' yer mind so don't even think 'bout drawin' that sword."
"Yeah, well, read HIS mind!" Mobius Knight said as he pointed at Hephaestus 1.
The doorman looked over at Hephaestus 1. "Sure. I figure that lack'a flesh is gonna make it easy ta-" the doorman stopped, his grin turning to slack-jawed horror. Then he clutched his head, fell to his knees and screamed, blood trickling from his ears and nose. He finally stopped screaming and fell to the pavement unconscious.
Heph shook his head as if out of a daze. "What? WHAT?"
"I don't know what you were thinking when he read your mind, but that must have been bad."
"I can't tell you because I made a promise earlier today not to talk about it anymore," Heph said, folding his arms and nodding.
"Oh my God, what do you two DO?" Mobius Knight asked, forgetting for a moment that he normally didn't want an answer for this question.
"Nothing that's any different that anyone else. Chances are we're actually pretty boring compared to you and your fiancee. You guys are the ones who freak out over it," Heph said. "Yes I know the size differential makes it seem brain-breaking, but there's ways around it. Now look, I don't want to talk about it any more right now. I just want to get these papers delivered."
The doorman just lay on the ground curled up in a ball mumbling "The bacon... the horror..." over and over again.
With that, the two heroes stepped into the meeting hall of the Society of American Catgirls.
"Be on guard. Hot naked catgirls may attack us at any moment, Moby," Heph said doing the "ooh scary" wiggling fingers signs.
"You, know the place smells really clean, too," Mobius Knight said.
"Well, cats are pretty fastidious."
"But they use litter boxes," Moby said.
"Uhm, Moby, man, I hate to break it to you, but they're not that feral. I'm sure that even the ones who were cats before they got turned into near-humans took some basic classes on human hygiene or something," Heph said. "I mean, they've got to have some kind of course on soap and water, right?"
Heph swung open the door to find a horde of conservatively-dressed catgirls in nice pantsuits and dresses, having a mid-morning tea social.
"Well, this is a fantasy-breaker for the hormonal young men out there, isn't it?" Heph said to the camera. He turned to the assembled felinoid throng. "Excuse me, is Mynx here? I have a bunch of paperwork to deliver to her."
Mynx popped up from her seat, wearing some kind of little black cocktail dress. "Yes, what's the problem?"
"We've got some notices to appear for the entire Society," Mobius Knight said, flashing his court liaison service badge. "Something to do with a series of noise ordinance violations."
Mynx pouted. "That stupid Mrs. Smithington, she's behind this. Ever since we started holding singing competitions for Paragon Idol, she's complained about the noise."
"Oh," Hephaestus 1 said. "You had some real yowlers in here, huh?"
"We don't use the word 'yowlers' here," Mynx said. "It's offensive. Like calling you a 'geargrinder'."
"I don't even get that one," Heph said.
"How about a '10110101110100' then?" the city's most prominent catgirl said.
"If I was a robot, I'd be mad at you, but I'm a cyborg," Heph answered. "I have to remember that, though, in case it ever comes up for litigation for a member of COMMA."
"Well, we were about to have another contest. Would you like to stay and listen to some of our singers who are auditioning?"
Heph shrugged. "Fine, but here's the paperwork. You'll need to start signing here, and finish here. The court dates are listed here and here."
Mynx frowned. "That's a large stack of papers."
"Our regular service agents haven't been able to deliver them," Mobius Knight said.
"I wonder why not?" Mynx asked.
A catgirl stepped up onto the stage in front of a microphone. She began singing, sounding like a drunkard scratching her nails on a chalkboard. The other catgirls stood up and cheered.
"We... gotta go," Heph said as Mobius Knight put his ears over his hands. Both of them walked out quickly with the signed paperwork.
The drive back to Larry's office was punctuated only by a short stop at the Up-N-Away drive-thru. They returned with lunch and sat down to eat.
"So, it was for lousy singing and not due to there being a horde of naked, oversexed catgirls?" Larry said. "Huh. I wonder why the guys refused to drop the papers off, then?"
"They probably couldn't make it past the doorman. He's a psychic who teleports people away from the premises." Moby said.
"How did you get past him?" Larry asked.
"I had him read Heph's mind," Moby said, grinning under his mask.
"Well, that explains the complaint of mental cruelty we just got from Psychic and Psionic Benevolent & Protective Association," Larry said.
"What? I was only thinking of me and--"
"Stop it!" Larry and Mobius Knight shouted in unison.
The screen faded out and the credits rolled to the soothing sound of Gordon Lightfoot's "If You Could Read My Mind."
Back Yard Boom - Emo Catgirl - Cobalt Claymore - Hephaestus 1
Avatar by Scarf_Girl!
"Don't you think that was overkill? The poor thing -- you probably scared him to death."
The voice was soft and young and vibrant and feminine and full of caring.
"F___ it. You do things your way, and I'll do things mine."
The second voice -- also feminine -- was hard, and though it was also young-sounding, had an underlying courseness that spoke of whiskey and tobacco and the back rooms of pool halls.
Mick lay in the darkness and waited for the lights to come on. His eyes hurt and his face burned and after a few moments he remembered the fireball that had erupted through the doorway and wondered if the lights would ever come on again. At this point he wasn't even sure if his eyes were closed or open, so he just tried to remain motionless and listened as the two females chatted between themselves as if he wasn't there.
They were there to "collect" him for a "client". He was supposed to be collected in good condition. This was a point of dispute as the soft-voiced one thought that "good condition" meant uninjured while the course-voiced one thought that it meant simply "still breathing".
"Be still," the soft-voice said, though Mick wasn't sure she meant him until a cool hand touched his blistered forehead.
"I'm sorry," she said. "Sometimes we forget that civillians can get hurt by our actions."
"Whatever," the other one said, then with an audible smirk added, "Why don't you give him a ____ ___, that would make him feel better."
The temperature of the hand on his head dropped considerably at the remark, but then returned to a comforting cool.
"Don't mind her. She's..." The sentence ended with a sigh.
The course voice muttered something that Mick was sure was full of expletives and brokeness.
There was something between the two females -- a soured friendship? something more? -- that seemed familiar to Mick. He almost felt as if he should know them. He worked up his courage to speak.
"Who are you?" he asked.
"Friends."
"Yeah. Right."
"My name's Mick."
"I know."
"Your name will be mud if you don't get your [censored] off the floor and come with us."
"That's enough!"
"You carry him then."
Without further prompting Mick struggled to his feet, the soft-voiced one's cool hands helping him up. There was still no hint of his sight returning, so as soon as he stood, he put out his hands to feel his way around. His right hand touched something soft.
"Why you, smarmy little perv..." the course voice said. "I'll kill you for that!"
"Stop! He didn't mean to! Can't you see?" Here the soft voice paused for a moment and he could feel cold breath on his face.
"See what? That he's getting his jollies by groping you?"
"No... that he's blind."
"I'm still not going to carry him."
"I'll help him along."
"Fine, but if you two don't keep up, I'm going to leave you to the Spider patrol that was heading this way."
A cold hand clasped around his shoulder and pulled him close to a soft, chilly body.
"Come on. She doesn't bluff and if you're as hot an item as we were told, I'll need her backup."
Suddenly Mick's mind cleared even if his vision hadn't.
"Wait," he said to the soft-voiced, cold-handed one, "What color is your skin?"
"I'm ready to begin, sensei." Claire Pachowski had spent weeks gathering up the things she thought she might need for tonight. She would have worn her costume under a loose shirt and pants, but when you can turn invisible you tend not to worry too much about being noticed. Her tactical belt pouches were stuffed to near bursting, with everything from first aid materials (for other people; she regenerated very quickly) to 100 feet of 550 cord to a rescue hammer and carabineers.
"You're sure about that?" the Cobalt Claymore asked.
"I've got all kinds of stuff here to go in and save the day," Claire said.
"You're not here to save the day, Claire. You said you wanted to be a ninja."
"Well, I wanted to be a heroic one," the young girl mumbled.
"First things first. What's in your utility belt?"
Claire fumbled throught the belt. "Nitrile gloves, antibacterial ointment, bandages and stuff for first aid. Then I've got an LED flashlight with a red filter, some of this paracord stuff, a can of silly string wrapped in electrician's tape for finding tripwires, my house key, my extra house key, ziplock bags and tweezers for gathering evidence, my cellphone and police comm unit. I'm pretty much set."
"Really," the blue-cloaked swordsman said.
She checked through her gear again. "Yes, really."
The Cobalt Claymore grinned. "Okay. Just remember, you will be tested on this stuff. If you fail at anything, I will have enough reason to end your training permanently."
"Anything?"
"Anything," the Cobalt Claymore said.
"Right, Master," Claire said.
"And if you insist on calling me that, call me 'Sensei' instead. 'Master' has too many improper connotations in this day and age."
"Yes, Sensei." Claire giggled on the inside. It was just like her dream a few months ago. She still wondered if she'd get something that marked her as a ninja when she completed his training.
The two heroes leapt into the moonlight towards Independence Port. "Follow me," the Cobalt Claymore said. "Tonight's training begins in Brickstown."
After a quick trip via tram to Brickstown, the Cobalt Claymore clapped his student on the back. "Right. Go to Building Six in the Zig's powerplant complex. Enter without being seen, and observe the breakroom for 30 minutes. Take note, the place is rigged to detect electronic systems so you'll have to leave your electronic devices with me."
"What?" Claire said, startled. "Why can't I take them?"
"You'll trigger a bunch of alarms. That's bad. It might summon the police, it might summon one of Crey's goon squads. I don't know for sure," the blue-cloaked hero said. "Either way, no electronics."
"How am I going to be able to get info to you in real time, though?" Claire asked.
The Cobalt Claymore pulled back a glove and checked his watch. "Time is running short, Claire."
"But-"
"Do you want to fail on your first mission?"
The young girl faded from view and shot out of the tram platform as if launched by a cannon. The Cobalt Claymore leapt up to the roof to scan for signs of trouble, Claire's dataglasses, cellphone and police scanner in a bag at his side. Finding no trouble, he sat down and opened up a book.
----
Claire found Building Six in the powerplant complex and watched for signs of anyone exiting or entering. A security guard walked up to the main door and waved a card over a small gray box next to the door. A loud click let her know the door unlocked and she watched as it popped outward. The girl stepped towards the doorway, hoping to follow him in until she noticed that he still held on to the door to close it behind him. Claire took a step back into the shadows and watched for a better opportunity. About ten minutes later, the guard returned and pushed open the door to go back outside. This time, he gave a slight shove to the door which wobbled a little as its automatic closing arm resisted being pushed faster than it wanted to go. The guard stepped away and Claire made her move. She slipped inside the building unnoticed.
Once inside, the young girl looked for a map or signs leading to the breakroom. She stepped quietly, listening for any sign of activity that would take her to her observation spot. A thumping noise, followed by the ripping metal and pop of a soda can alerted Claire to her surroundings. Still invisible, she poked her head around quickly. An older man in coveralls and a Boston Red Sox cap took a sip from a can of Pepsi as he stood by the soda machine. Another security guard sat at a dilapidated lunch table, its Formica cover peeling away from the chipboard underneath. He took a bite of his sandwich and swallowed.
"Tell yer wife thanks fer the egg salad recipe. Margo says this is better'n hers," the guard said. "I'm inclined ta agree, an' Margo had a good recipe ta begin with."
"I'll tell her, Dewey, don't worry," the man in coveralls said. "Times are looking tough for the Sox, huh?" he asked as he sat down and opened his lunchbox. "This damn diet's gonna kill me. The doctor says I have an inflamed small intestine, so I can't eat anything spicy for a while. So I've got peanut butter again."
"Sucks ta get old, don't it, Mac?" the guard said around his sandwich. "Hey, yer gettin' ready fer retirement, aren't ya? You an' I joined up 'bout the same time, an' I'm lookin' ta punch outta here permanently in October. Thirty years is long enough, am I right?"
The man in the hat and coveralls grinned. "You set a date already? Well, I can't blame you. I was going to go for thirty-five, myself. I figure I'll hit sixty-five and retire then."
"Eh, I got some travellin' ta do before I start Social Security. Margo wants a trip ta Aspen. Aspen! She don't even like snow an' she wants ta go ta Colorado!" the guard said.
"Women, gotta watch when they get something stuck in their minds. They'll make you do it one way or another." The coverall-wearer raised his soda can. "To women. We understand them enough, but love them anyway."
The guard raised his cup of coffee. "Hear hear, Mac."
After thirty minutes of banalities, Claire had all she could stand and left, retracing her steps to the doorway. Even the way out had a card lock on it, so she had to wait for someone leaving. She made her way back quickly.
She found the Cobalt Claymore huddled up reading a book on the roof of the tram stop. A quiet tap was all she made on the entry ramp, then a slightly louder one as she set foot on the roof.
"So, what did you see?" the Cobalt Claymore asked his student.
"I saw that the building is tough to get into. You need a card to open the door. There's no sign showing where the breakroom is, but there's a Pepsi machine there. It's pretty loud so you can just follow the sound," Claire said.
"Go on. What else?"
"Well," Claire said, "at the moment, there's two old guys in there having lunch."
"Describe the old guys," the swordslinger instructed.
"Well, one's a security guard. He's kind of pudgy, is bald, and apparently likes egg salad. The other guy, I don't know what he does, but he wears coveralls and a baseball cap."
"Okay, keep going. What else did you see?"
"Uhm, the clock in the breakroom is made by West Bend, and the two men in the breakroom have been working there for almost thirty years. They talked about their wives and being old, mostly," Claire said.
"Anything else?"
"It wasn't important, just general old guy talk."
The Cobalt Claymore frowned at that. "Is that all you've got?"
"Oh!" Claire said. "You need a key card to get out, too."
"Anything else?" the older hero said, still frowning.
"Nothing I can think of," Claire said, shrugging.
"Well, you passed, but barely," the Cobalt Claymore said. "You got me some information on who was there, what they were doing, what kind of security measures are available. You didn't give me any further descriptive information about the security guard's uniform. What color was it? What about the guy in coveralls? What color were the coveralls, and what about his baseball cap?"
"Why would you want all that?"
"Claire, you're learning to be a spy and a scout. That's one of the regular jobs of a ninja. You've still got a ways to go on information-gathering."
Claire pouted. "You took away all my recording stuff! I can't remember all of that!"
"You don't have to. There's another way to record things like this," the Cobalt Claymore said.
"Yeah, what?"
"How about a notebook and pencil or pen?" the older hero asked. "You can draw a quick map with it, take down descriptive notes, and a few other things, too."
"Oh," Claire said, crestfallen.
"You brought back some useful information. But you didn't bring back enough information. That's fine for this run, but the next time, use this," the Cobalt Claymore said as he handed Claire a small notepad and pen. "Keep this on you at all times. Take lots of notes, always. Even if you can't use the data immediately, you might have use for them in the future. You've done a barely adequate job, Claire. I expect to see better results the next time."
Claire chewed on her lip. At least she was going to have a next time, so the training would continue.
Back Yard Boom - Emo Catgirl - Cobalt Claymore - Hephaestus 1
Avatar by Scarf_Girl!
June 14, 2008
Dear Diary,
First off, I swear to never try to self-medicate again. It didn't work. It just made things worse and now Gina won't talk to me and people look at me like they wonder what I'm going to do next. It's like I'm a one-girl Dawson's Creek or something.
Ah well. I guess I can't blame them. The meds reacted with the chemicals in my body that give me my powers and made me a little nutso. As if I wasn't a little nutso already. But when you do something to lose someone's trust, you have to win it back. I just need to quit doing those kinds of things over and over. I'm finding out there's a big difference between leading a cheer and leading a mutual survival group. It's not the words you say that inspire others to keep going, to reach the goal -- it's your actions.
At least Lily is talking to me again. Things are still tense, but they're going to get better.
It's good to be keeping a journal again. I don't know what drove me to throw it away like I did. I felt rejected by my friends and my girlfriend and like there was no hope for me. It was like I wasn't really the same person who had started the journal, and I didn't like the person I was becoming.
But today I got to do something that made me feel like, yeah, my situation's changed, but I'm still me, and maybe the universe isn't against me after all. Maybe it's even just a little on my side.
There was this man, and he talked to a certain person that I sometimes do errands for and he needed this young guy kidnapped and brought to him safely. So this certain person I do errands for sent me a message that he wanted me to do it because -- and these are his words -- "You care wether or not a 'package' arrives in good shape." Which means that some people he hires for errands don't care if a kidnap victim gets killed or something when they're trying to take them.
I needed help (and I thought it was just a good excuse for us to be together without *being together*) so I asked Lily to help me. She's street smart and stuff and pretty soon, she found out where someone matched the young guy's description was hiding out.
It figures! We almost killed him while breaking into his hide-out!?! The blast of heat Lily used to finish off the door blinded him! If he had been any closer, it might have fire-flashed him into a pile of ashes!
So, anyway, I used my powers to cool him off and help him feel better. (Lily said some really rude stuff while I was doing this, too! It made me mad, but I figured she owed it to me for the whole going nutso thing.) And then as we were getting ready to leave, he asks this question:
"WHAT COLOR IS YOUR SKIN?"
I thought, Wow.
Then he asked me again, and I told him, "Blue."
Then he got this -- angelic is the word that comes to mind, like he'd had an epiphany or something -- look on his face and says, "I have something for you."
And then he handed me the diary that I threw into the ocean!
Gosh! You know, stuff like this just doesn't happen! It's like there's really a god or something. Maybe I need to talk to that nun.
So anyway, it turns out that the man who wanted this young guy kidnapped was his father who was a big mucky muck in the Family, but had somehow ticked off Recky-poo and now the Spiders were after him. Something about shooting a couple of them. So the daddy and the mom were going to amscray to Europe and send the boy in a different direction because if the long legs of Arachnos caught the parents, they at least wanted their son to live.
Pretty good parents for mobsters, if you ask me.
But their son didn't want to be separated from them. His eyesight had returned and he made this whole big scene and Lily and I just kinda stood there and looked around the room while the family did the drama thing.
Then the father did this weird thing. He pulled out this big hypo and stuck his kid in the arm with it. The kid just sort of went veg. He collapsed and his father caught him and laid him down. Then he gave us our pay for retrieving his kid and offered to double it if we could get the kid to Paragon City.
Seems that that's about the only place where the father felt like Arachnos wasn't strong enough to find his son. He told us the kid would wake up soon enough and that we'd better get going. He jotted down some stuff on a note and stuck it in his son's pocket, then he gave us all our money. It was a lot.
Well, usually I go to Paragon City to make "bank withdrawals" but this time, Lily and I went on a mission of mercy. We put on some nondescript street clothes and paid a little of that money to get on a little fishing boat that could get us to Port Indy. After the hospital turned us away -- seems like they had their hands full with all the capes coming in -- we found the next best thing: A Creycare clinic. I took out that note and jotted down a couple more things that I thought might help him when he woke up.
Now I have my old diary locked away in a safe place and I'm starting a new one. I think writing this stuff down keeps me sane. Better than meds do anyway.
I just hope that boy makes out all right in the big city.
*Mobius Knight, Clem and Earl walk into Hephaestus 1's apartment, where he's watching a cheerleading competition on ESPN*
Mobius Knight: Heph, aren't you a little old to be watching high school and college girls jumping all over the place?
Clem: Yeah, man, that's a little creepy.
Heph: Shut it, guys. I'm doing research.
Mitch: What, going to see if your girlfriend will dress like that for you?
Heph: Seriously, it's research.
*the scene cuts to Heph and Moby planning out a quick strategy while being pinned down by Arachnos gunfire*
Heph: Okay, Operative Biggles is about seventy-five meters behind those Crab Spiders who have us pinned down. I'll distract them with some new attention-getting techniques while you sneak past them and arrest Biggles.
Moby: Got it. I'll run once you've stepped out and gotten their attention.
*Hephaestus 1 leaps out from behind the wall, shoulder rolls into a fighting stance, then begins dancing... kind of.*
Heph: U-G-L-Y! You ain't got no alibi! YOU UGLY! YEEEAH, YOU UGLY!
*the screen cuts to black and credits appear in white letters*
SERV'D! Showing the secret of the perfect universal taunt.
Thursdays at 10pm ET on The Hero Network
Encore presentation on Fridays at 9pm ET on A&E
*the scene cuts back to Hephaestus 1, still doing his odd cheerleading routine*
Heph: Moby! Do the sneaking past thing while they're still shocked into inactivity!
Mobius Knight: Uhm... yeah...
*the scene fades to black again with the new Serv'd! eyecatch logo*
Large Choir (singing): SERRRRRV'D!
Back Yard Boom - Emo Catgirl - Cobalt Claymore - Hephaestus 1
Avatar by Scarf_Girl!
Training was going along well for Claire. The quality of her reports got better as she began to wean herself off of technological gear and rely more on a notepad and pencil. Her raids on safehouses of Warriors and Tsoo helped her to train better with fighting in close, as the Cobalt Claymore demanded that she be able to fight without sustaining more than "three good hits" from her foes. The swordsman explained to her that when his father trained him, he was allowed only one good hit. The main reason for that was because unlike Claire, he didn't heal almost immediately. She was becoming an excellent scout and area surveillance expert.
"There's something that you'll have to learn as well, and that's how to socialize your way into good scouting positions," the Cobalt Claymore said. "I still have difficulty with that, so I called in a specialist."
"Socialize?" Claire asked. "Like shmoozing?"
"Kind of. It's tough for me to explain, though," her mentor said, looking around the spare room they used as a classroom in a way that said he was desperately trying to avoid a subject. "I'll let my resident expert explain it further."
"Who would that be?" Claire asked. She shook for a second, a shadowy chill crawling up her spine.
"Hello, son," Mother Aoi said as she stepped out of a shadow. "Is this your apprentice? Hmm. She certainly looks earnest enough. She reminds me a bit of the last apprentice you had under your supervision when you were in the Rogue Isles."
Claire shot the Cobalt Claymore a look. "You said you didn't take apprentices!"
"He doesn't, my duckling," Mother Aoi said. "I assigned an apprentice, a girl who was about your age named Tenko, to him when he worked for me. She died on his watch."
Claire paled a bit. "Really?"
The Cobalt Claymore nodded. "Yes. She had a death wish and decided to fulfill it on a mission. You don't have one that I've seen."
Mother Aoi grinned. "Using her as a moving shield was pure genius."
Claire's eyes widened.
"It wasn't completely like that, Claire, but that's a story I'll tell you later. Right now, Mother, you can start with your instruction." With that, the Cobalt Claymore took his leave.
"I do like messing with him," Mother Aoi said. "He's far more uptight than his father. And a far superior swordsman to his father as well. But now your training begins in the social side of being a kunoichi. You'll learn how to use your body language as a weapon as deadly as those blades on your arms."
"Social? I'm not going to start sleeping with guys for information, am I?"
"Not unless you want to," Mother Aoi said. "But you'll be limiting yourself as a weapon if you don't."
"A weapon? I thought we were scouts, spies and stuff like that."
Mother Aoi frowned. "Yes. I'd say that killing people, stopping political movements to keep dictators and various others in power, and overthrowing elected or unelected governments depending on who's paying would fall under 'stuff like that.' Todd's father was very good as such things. It's a pity he didn't teach them to his son."
Claire looked down at the floor. Suddenly she wasn't sure that the whole ninja thing was all it was cracked up to be.
Back Yard Boom - Emo Catgirl - Cobalt Claymore - Hephaestus 1
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Hours passed for Todd Galahad, the Cobalt Claymore. His mother had spent the better part of a day with Claire, doing who knows what to the girl's mind. Mother Aoi worked in emotional manipulation like Seurat and Renoir worked in pigments. Little dots, specks and smears that seemed unconnected at first would eventually coalesce in a portrait of her victim's worst fears mixed with their greatest desires. Her mind-breaking techniques worked often, and sometimes too well.
Mother Aoi stepped from the room where she was interviewing/interrogating/bullying/mindbending the youngest member of the Pachowski family. She raggedly wiped sweat away from her forehead and shook her head.
"I cannot recommend your student for further training, my beloved son. She cannot be a ninja despite her wish. Her wish to be a ninja is not strong enough. The reason is simple: she lacks the willpower to kill her foes with heartless regard for their lives. I cannot break that barrier in her mind!" The former ninja warlord smiled and raised her mask over her face. "At least your father's death was enough to break that for you."
Todd scowled. "Maybe so, Mom," he said, the last word sharpened to a razor's edge. "I still manage to keep it in check."
"Let me guess: if you ever lose your self-control, I'm sure to lose my head?" the woman said, a cruel smile evident from under the mask. "You're so much like your father when I left him. You can kill with the best of them, but would rather substitute mercy for what is best."
"And yet you still gave me control of the family," Todd said, his eyes locked with his mother's. "I've come to doubt your reasons for doing it. The shadows and the oni selected me, you said. There's something else I'm missing."
The nearly beatific smile never left Mother Aoi's face. "You might be missing something. You also might just be paranoid. I'll leave it to you to find out which is the truth." With that, she disappeared.
Todd went into the small room he used for Claire's earlier training. The young girl sat on the floor, her panoply of weapons arrayed in front of her.
"I can't be a ninja," Claire said. "I can't kill as easy as she wants me to kill people. It's wrong. I couldn't agree with her at all."
"You're giving up, then?"
"I don't want to, but I can't go any further." Claire looked up at her teacher. "This is nothing like the comics showed me, nothing like the heroes Tommy met in Harajuku, it's just wrong!"
Todd gave his student a tight-lipped smile. "There might be other ninja groups out there with different rules, different philosophies on training. You came to me, though, to learn the traditions from my mother's side of the family simply because you thought everyone who calls himself a ninja is a hero. We're not the heroic kind. Why do you think I don't spend any more time in the Rogue Isles than I have to, and only when I'm in an investigation?"
Claire looked at the blades in their wristguards. "Do you have to kill people over there?"
"Not if I can help it," Todd said as he looked away. "I said I'd tell you about the last time I had an apprentice foisted off on me. Do you still want to know about it?"
Claire stood up and gathered her gear. "I do, but is there any way you can train me to do more of the heroic side of what you know?"
The young man known to Paragon City as The Cobalt Claymore smiled. "You still want to learn to be sneaky and gather information, huh?"
"Yeah, I do."
"Fine. You mind working with a boy who's just a little ticked off at you right now?"
"Who's that?"
"You know, the one you keep taking over to that nasty coffee shop to play videogames."
"He took the job you offered him?" Claire asked.
"If he agrees, you can stay and learn alongside him. If not, well, seek out a new teacher. I'm not the only source of information out there."
The girl nodded. "Fine. So, do I still call you sensei?"
"No, you can cut that crap out right now. Instead you'll both learn and use the formal apprenticeship rules I had to follow." Todd pulled his mask over his face and raised the cowl on his cloak. "Speaking of rules, I've got to get back to the collection. Go home, Claire. Figure out what you want to do next." With a quick nod, he made his way to the spare room's door and disappeared.
The younger hero stood there as she rearranged her gear. She hoped she'd have a good answer for herself later.
Back Yard Boom - Emo Catgirl - Cobalt Claymore - Hephaestus 1
Avatar by Scarf_Girl!
On the next "Serv'd!"
Mobius Knight arrived a little late for the staff meeting, walking in during Larry's briefing. "Uh, sorry to come in late, guys, but I just saw the weirdest thing. Fang had this huge smile on his face."
Larry gave Mobius Knight a curt nod. "Thanks for finally joining us, and there's a good reason he has that smile on his face. Here's why," he said, slapping a stack of photo printouts on the table.
Everyone's jaw dropped except for Heph's, who instead had his "What the Hell?" eyebrow pop up over his main eye camera.
"This is impossible!" Clem shouted.
"It's just unnatural!" Earl cried out.
"Oh, good grief," Moby muttered.
Heph nodded. "Those are good reasons to be worried, Lar," he said.
Catch "Serv'd!" Thursdays at 9pm Eastern on The Hero Channel, and encore presentations on A&E Fridays at 10pm Eastern.
Back Yard Boom - Emo Catgirl - Cobalt Claymore - Hephaestus 1
Avatar by Scarf_Girl!
The vacation did a world of good for Tommy Pachowski. It was a working vacation, but who cares when you're taking part in the custom car show circuit? He was showing off his latest resto-mod, a 1972 Buick Grand Sport. The traditionalists hated it; the instrument panel, stereo system, and interior vinyl had all been replaced with better modern equivalents. No amount of detail on the engine, nor finding correct parts for body and engine restoration, nor finding the correct shade of red for paint would make them happy.
Tommy didn't really care at the moment. He was too busy enjoying life. The parties were... unique... to say the least. One minute he was talking to a graphic artist who helped build and drive a racer made from a P-47 belly tank, the next he was talking to a stripper with almost as many tattoos as he had.
Eventually, the tour ended and Tommy found his way home. The blue-haired cyborg eased the old Powerwagon and the car it towed out of a gas station on I-95 and headed north for home. His cellphone beeped a few times and he answered it.
"Hello?"
"Tommy?"
Tommy's voice darkened. "Oh, it's you, Saya."
"I, uh, need to tell you something."
"Lemme guess, you an' that art student callin' himself 'Bertrand Plastique' are gettin' engaged?" Tommy asked.
"No, that's not happening. Bert and I broke up."
"Oh. Sorry ta hear that," he said sarcastically.
"That's not why I called you. I called to say that you were right," Saya said. "My hand can't hold a pencil right now, Tommy. I broke six different bones in my hand last week fighting the Skulls. I'm not going to be able to make my deadlines, either."
Tommy sped up. "I'll be there soon."
Lousy breakup or not, Tommy didn't abandon anyone in need.
Back Yard Boom - Emo Catgirl - Cobalt Claymore - Hephaestus 1
Avatar by Scarf_Girl!
*The opening credits for "Serv'd!" roll with the new opening theme as sung by Journey. Steve Perry does his usual vocal tricks with lots of "WHOOOOA-OHHHH-AAAAH-OHHHHH" filler.*
Hephaestus 1 and Mobius Knight rode into Atlas Park together, using the high-occupancy vehicle lane for Heph's modified SUV.
"We're going to get in trouble," Moby said. "We need more four people in this vehicle to use this lane."
"No we aren't," Heph replied. "It's you, me, Clem, Earl and the latest scofflaw who we served papers and is coming down for his court date, the musical robot known as MUDD-E."
"I-GOT-THE-#0000FFs-OH-LAWD-HELP-ME-I-GOT-THE-#0000FFs," MUDD-E sang as he adjusted his weatherbeaten porkpie hat. "I-GOT-THE-#0000FFs-SO-BAD-I-COULD-INCUR-CASCADING-VOLTAGE-LOSS-IN-MY-CPU."
Heph's cybernetic disbelief-sensing eyebrow raised up over his smaller visual sensor. "Wow. That's... uh, that song that you sang."
"Thank-you-thank-you-very-much-all-right-now-I-will-play-my-latest-hit-called-My-Female-Counterpart-Done-Left-Me. Would-you-like-to-hear-it-here-it-goes-MY--"
Moby pointed at the rapidly-appearing District Courts Building. "Ooh! Look! The Court Building!"
MUDD-E stopped singing. "Oh-well-that-is-show-business-for-you."
Heph nodded. "Yep. Show business is a dangerous and weird world."
"Mostly weird," Moby grumbled as he exited the now-stopped SUV. "I hate it. I just want normal criminals. Is it too much to ask for serving papers to normal people?"
"Hey, we're specialists, Moby," Heph said. "We handle the superheroes and villains that no one else can touch. You don't send normal people to Sebastian Frost's mansion to serve noise ordinance violations. You send people who are less likely to be caught, given cement overshoes and get thrown into the river."
"I'm normal," Moby said.
"No, no you aren't."
"I'm totally normal!" the sword-swinger said to his cybernetic teammate.
"Evil sword, magical girlfriend, strange dog--"
"Mr. Snugglesworth is not strange, Heph!" Moby shouted.
"Okay, he's unique," Heph said. "He seems smarter than your average pomeranian mix, though."
"At least my dog doesn't type out random IMs to me to let me know he's pooping."
"I told them not to do that anymore. After all, the Blackberry is a privilege, not a right. Though wouldn't it be nice to know he needs to go out before he craps on your floor?"
"Your cats seem kind of malicious about it, though."
"Well, yeah, they're cats," Heph said. "Malice is part of their sense of humor. It's why I get along with them so well."
"So, anyway, we'd better be getting over to Larry's office. He seemed kind of worried," Moby said. "I wonder what kind of stupidity we're dealing with this time?"
The two heroes walked towards the office when Moby turned his head quickly to the side. Something didn't seem right. It was as if the world was the one he knew, just turned 90 degrees off-axis. "Head on down to Larry's, Heph. I need to check on something," Moby said as he waved Heph off.
"Sure thing, man," Heph said, shrugging.
Mobius Knight walked calmly to a nearby window. He looked to the outside of the building where a certain werewolf was being dropped off for work. Fang was standing next to a nice sedan and waved at the driver. He smiled, and walked to his office whistling a happy tune... as well as can be expected for someone with a snout.
The swordsman was stunned. His mind was currently rebelling at the thought of a happy Fang.
Mobius Knight arrived a little late for the staff meeting, walking in during Larry's briefing. "Uh, sorry to come in late, guys, but I just saw the weirdest thing. Fang had this huge smile on his face."
Larry gave Mobius Knight a curt nod. "Thanks for finally joining us, and there's a good reason he has that smile on his face. Here's why," he said, slapping a stack of photo printouts on the table.
Everyone's jaw dropped except for Heph's, who instead had his "What the Hell?" eyebrow pop up over his main eye camera.
"This is impossible!" Clem shouted.
"It's just unnatural!" Earl cried out.
"Oh, good grief," Moby muttered.
Heph nodded. "Those are good reasons to be worried, Lar," he said.
The pictures showed Fang picnicking in Gemini Park with an athletic, Teutonic beauty of a blonde. For some reason the pictures appeared to be taken where Fang had the most obvious look of sheer rapture on his face and wherever the best angle of the woman's cleavage could be seen.
"Yes, that's right," Larry said. "Fang has a girlfriend. The world may not last for much longer."
*The screen fades to black with the words "To Be Continued" on it in white*
Back Yard Boom - Emo Catgirl - Cobalt Claymore - Hephaestus 1
Avatar by Scarf_Girl!
"So lemme get this straight," Tommy Pachowski said over his beer, "they got zeppelins."
"Yup," Todd Galahad said. "Another pint of whatever's closest, please, Mr. DiFillippo," he added, motioning with his empty glass to the old man behind the KC Hall's bar.
The old man nodded. It might not be exactly legal for the two heroes to drink, seeing as how neither of them had turned the magical responsibility-bearing age of 21, but seeing as how the two young men put their lives on the line for the citizenry, he figured that some laws just don't need to be followed. He refilled the pint glass and set it down with a grin. "It's on yer tab, CC."
"So if they got zeppelins, an' they're pirates, an' they're good at avoidin' the authorities, how do ya stop 'em?"
Todd grinned. "Surface-to-air ninjas."
"But nobody is gonna write a song 'bout surface-ta-air ninjas!" Tommy said.
"Ninjas are strictly business," Todd said. "There isn't much to romanticize about their ability to sneak into places and kill people."
"What about them ninja women who seem ta wear nothin' under their outfits other than that mesh stuff?"
"That's not romance, Tommy," Todd said between drinks. "That's wishful thinking on your part."
"Oh," Tommy said as he finished his beer. "Well, there oughta be a law or somethin' requirin' hot ninja babes ta wear that at all times."
"The words 'ninja' and 'babe' don't make sense when strung together like that, Tommy. Remember, I'm related to them."
"Yeah, that's right. So what? I'm single, I can ask that kinda stuff," Tommy said, motioning for a refill. "I can ask questions about what women ninjas wear under their clothes."
The bartender shook his head. "Tommy, ya oughta know already considerin' yer last girlfriend."
"Yeah... I oughta know, shouldn't I?" the blue-haired cyborg said. "Well, I guess I do, but... ah, hell, I miss havin' her as my girlfriend."
"Well, maybe you should try again with her, now that she's got a better idea of why you were so stubborn about her not getting involved in the hero life," Todd said.
"I dunno, maybe there's somethin' there," Tommy said, draining another pint. "Or maybe I'm just hopin' fer somethin' ta appear where it can't anymore."
Todd shrugged. "Give it a shot, Tommy. It can't hurt."
Back Yard Boom - Emo Catgirl - Cobalt Claymore - Hephaestus 1
Avatar by Scarf_Girl!
*credits, opening music, "SERV'D!" etc.*
Hephaestus 1, Mobius Knight, and their faithful recording crew were seated around Larry McGonigle's desk which was covered in new photos of Fang and his drop-dead gorgeous girlfriend.
"Okay, this is what I got through my sources," Heph began.
"If by 'sources' you mean 'I bribed some kids to pick through her garbage', that is," Moby replied.
"Well, did you expect me to do that?" Heph asked.
"I'm just saying that it might be going to excess to find out about Fang's new girlfriend is all," Moby replied.
Larry slapped his hand on the desk. "Listen! My werewolf nephew is currently in the arms of some woman who shouldn't even be giving him the time of day! Something is not right here! She's got to be up to something!"
"Well, I did find her name out, Lar, but you're not going to like it," Heph said. "It's going to feed that paranoia of yours bigtime."
"Oh just tell me," Larry said.
"Her name is Ilse von Wulfenschtuppen. She's a Ph.D. candidate in Electrical Engineering and working through college in the IT department of Paragon City's government offices," Heph said.
"Von WHAT? That's GOT to be a fake name! She's a spy of some kind!"
"Yeah, it is. She legally changed it to her mother's maiden name. Apparently her mother was Hansi von Wulfenschtuppen, a spy for the 5th Column in the 1970s. Ilse changed her last name because she was mercilessly teased in school about her last name."
"What was her last name?" Moby asked.
"Fahrtenberger," Heph said.
"Ooh... yeah, I'd change that name, too," Clem said.
"And I thought that 'Wackenhut' was bad," Earl chimed in.
"Anything else?" Larry said. "It sounds like she's using Fang for something! Her mother was a spy, after all!"
"Yeah, her criminal record's clean, she's a 36DD and goes to--" Heph said.
"Whoa whoa whoa!" Moby interrupted. "How do you know her bra size?"
"One of the kids picked up a receipt that was from Victoria's Secret," Heph answered. "Like I was saying, she also works out over at the Steel Canyon Health Club. She apparently does a lot of weightlifting since this was a receipt for weightlifting gloves."
"My God, they're planning on killing my nephew with this girl, aren't they?" Larry asked.
"I don't think so, Larry," Moby said. "This is what I got from her computer. She IMs Fang a lot when she's at work. Here's the transcript," he added as he dropped a printout of dozens of conversations.
Larry picked them up and started reading. "Huh. She comes clean with him about her mother's past. They work out together, they... oh, that's something I can't un-read. Well, I think there's still some other nefarious reason she's dating him."
"Page eighteen, Larry," Moby said.
"It says 'You're the only one who doesn't fall all over himself when I'm around and doesn't put me on a pedestal.' That's it? He treats her like a normal woman? You've gotta be kidding me!" Larry shouted. He turned away and lit up his cigar. "There's got to be more to it!"
"Well, we could always run a stakeout, Lar," Heph said. "I don't want to do it, but if you're assigning us to it, we'd have no choice."
"No, I'll handle this investigation on my own! I need you guys to work on the caseload we've got. Has there been any progress on the Statesman/ Stateslawncare issue?" Larry asked.
"Yeah, we're going to take care of that today. Statesman really needs to look at some of those commercial licensing contracts he signs. I think I know where to catch him."
With that, the five men huddled together to go over their next plan.
Back Yard Boom - Emo Catgirl - Cobalt Claymore - Hephaestus 1
Avatar by Scarf_Girl!
*"Serv'd!" theme song, new montage, same great choral finish as always*
The big problem with dealing with Statesman is dealing with his ego... and his ego's attorney. The Stateslawncare featuring Statesgardener vs. Statesman issue did not end well. In fact, what was supposed to be just a simple cease-and-desist order turned into a nightmare of epic proportions. Eventually, the jury sided with Statesgardener just due to the insufferability of Statesman's ego. Back in the days of Zeus, he would have gotten his due. With today's juries being fed messages of "do the most damage to the biggest jerk in the courtroom" thanks to daytime television such as "Judge Judy & Executioner," you can be right to defend your intellectual property but still lose anyway.
For the crew of "Serv'd!" it was a day of high-quality entertainment. Hephaestus 1, Mobius Knight, Clem and Mitch walked out of the courtroom together.
"I got a little carried away, there," Heph said.
"You started a chant of 'JER-RY! JER-RY!' in the middle of closing arguments," Moby snapped. "Seriously! Who does that?"
"The judge liked it," Heph said with a hurt tone.
"I don't get why he threw his chair at Statesman's ego's lawyer, though," Clem said.
"Maybe Statesman's ego's lawyer is the real father of his six illegitimate children?" Heph asked.
Mobius Knight stopped. "How... how do you come up with situations like that, Heph? How is it that your mind works in such weird ways?"
Heph shrugged. "No idea, Moby. It just does."
While walking out to the truck, Heph's cellphone rang. Larry McGonigle had another assignment for them, this time in New Overbrook. They went back into the building and made their way back to the court liaison's office.
"I'd say I'm sorry to disrupt your day off, but I'm not," Larry said. "This has the potential to blow up fast."
"Narrow it down a bit, Lar," Heph said. "Lots of things around here have that potential."
"Here's your assignment: deliver a restraining order to one Captain Castillo of the Sky Raiders. He's been harassing Dr. Delilah Stein, one of the archaeological specialists in Faultline," Larry said as he dropped a stack of papers into Heph's hands.
"Sky Raiders? Aren't they a bit below our pay grade, Larry?" Moby asked.
Larry scratched the tip of his nose. "Yeah, but with my other teams working on other cases, you're it."
Heph sighed and put the papers into his messenger bag. "Right, we're off, then."
The drive into Overbrook wasn't too bad. With the obligatory stop at Drenched Donuts (Heph kept to many police traditions, this one being very important), they discussed a few things. After the doughnut stop, they moved on to the current whereabouts of one Doc Delilah.
As far as suitors go, Dr. Delilah Stein had many a man who was overtaken by her purple hair, her amazonian stature, and her huge... amount of published material. However, this one was a real loser. This Castillo guy was all kinds of wrong for her.
"Look, Luis," Doc Delilah said, "it's nice that you like to fight crime and play baseball, but come on, this is getting ridiculous!"
"No, no, doctora de mi corazon," Captain Castillo said, "I must have you as to for my own! Come with me to my flying aircraft carrier and we shall sail the skies looking for plunder."
"I thought you played baseball, Vinny?"
"I did. But that was... long, long ago, mi amor," Captain Castillo said. "Long ago when my handsome visage was part of the Major Leagues' Most Handsome Outfielders Ever. Yes, I was indeed the man who stole more hearts than bases."
"Uh-huh," Doc Delilah said.
"Someone of my ruggedly smooth good-lookingness could not be contained upon the field of center! I aspired to the heights that no man could attain in baseball, to have the best hair in the league. But no, they made me put it under a hat. A sweaty, stinky, hair-mashingly evil hat of the devil! A pox upon all hats!" the Sky Raider exclaimed. "Except of course, yours, Doctora Stein. Your hides the hair which almost is equal unto my very own!"
Doc Delilah smirked. "Gee, thanks, Fernando. So, no more outfield, huh?"
"No, I needed to experience a life sailing the skies and the taking of things which are not mine to have in the first place! The danger! The thrills!" Castillo said.
"The paperwork!" Hephaestus 1 added in the midst of Castillo's rant as he shoved the restraining order under Castillo's nose.
"Sì! The paperwork! The-" Castillo stopped and looked at the papers. "Hello, what are these homely-looking summons doing so close to my radiance?"
"It's a restraining order from Doctor Stein to you, Sparky," Mobius Knight said. "She's sick of your letters, your hounding her and all that."
"Ah, I see," Castillo said as he grabbed the papers. "Ah! Wait! Clearly, these are not for me, gentlemen of the law! For these orders are not engraved upon the finest ivory stock! These are... in triplicate! With carbon paper, no less! Such things may be acceptable for you common types, but one such as I, Captain Castillo of the Sky Raiders, must have only the best!"
"Right," Heph said.
"So, until this is done, I shall not accept such common paperwork! Instead, I shall await these silly little papers... and the lovely Doctora Stein... in my boudoir! AndnowItakemyleave!" the Sky Raider said as he shot into the air and out of sight.
"Well, that's just dandy," Moby said.
"I thought he was more of a fop," Heph said.
Mobius Knight shot his large cyborg partner a look of death. "You know what I meant. Now we need to track him down."
"Oh, that's easy," Doc Delilah said. "He's given me the map, GPS coordinates, and mailing address of his secret lair so many times it's not even funny." She handed the team a map. "Uhm, sorry it smells like Giorgio cologne. He douses the things he sends to me with it."
Moby took the map. "Yeah... it's... good grief, I can see the cologne wafting off of it. We'd better get over there fast. I also vote we keep the windows down so we don't smell like two-bit catamites."
"I hate to tell you, Moby, but that smells nothing like Lost Aberrants," Heph said. "It smells decent. A little on the side of man-pretty instead of handsome, but decent."
"No, that's Eremites, not catamites," Moby said. "They're-- oh, just get in the truck!"
Some people would not think a full-size SUV could fit in the Arachnos-built tunnels that linked the sides of the Paragon City Dam with each other, but those people would be both wrong and dumb. Of course, the Arachnos personnel weren't too pleased to see a giant SUV of Imminent Impact barreling down the tunnel at them, either. They either dodged or got smacked by the four-wheeler.
"Woohoo! Two more points!" Heph said as he bounced a Huntsman into a Drone.
"No, you aimed for him, you only get points if you keep the same course," Moby said.
"Your version of the game sucks, then," Heph said back. "It's like Greco-Roman Deathrace instead of Freestyle Deathrace."
"...yeah," Moby said. "You know, you have really got to stop watching movies from the 1970s, Heph."
"I do watch modern movies!"
"Movies with Will Ferrell in them don't count."
The SUV stopped in the tunnel. Heph's window rolled down and he grabbed the nearest Arachnos lackey in a headlock.
"YOU!" Heph shouted. "Tell my friend that Will Ferrell is a good comedy actor!"
"I- I-- I CAN'T!" the Wolf Spider said. "Anything but that!"
"TELL HIM!"
"No!" the Arachnos minion shouted. "Tell me to eat my own head if you must, but don't ask me to do the impossible!"
"But I like Will Ferrell movies..." Heph said dejectedly.
The Arachnos soldier looked at him. "Wow, I thought having a thing for sweaty Blood Widow bodysuits was bad, but you, sir, are a WEIRDO!"
Heph let the minion go. "Does no one here besides me appreciate that one man can make one character adaptable to any situation?"
"No," the others said in unison.
"Hmph. See how you like it when you don't get invited to the Oscars for his Lifetime Achievement Award," Heph grumbled. With that, the SUV roared through the tunnels and into the light again.
Eventually, the team made it across the reservoir to the Sky Raiders' lair. They parked right next to the building that was marked "Hacienda de Amor" and walked in.
Captain Castillo was sitting at an elegant desk and wearing a smoking jacket over a poofy shirt, a quill pen in his hand.
"My Adored Doctora Stein," he said out loud, "Many are the times I have wooed you, and many are the times you have rebuffed me. You know you cannot escape the fact that we are meant to be, for your heart sees my incandescent handsomeness and says 'Ay yi yi! Truly this is a man whose hair and grooming set him far above the likes of mortals!' It is true that my love for you is exceeded only by my radiant visage, yes, but then again, what is not? Let us..."
He turned to Heph and crew, not noticing that they weren't his usual staff of Sky Raiders. "Do I look more pensive like this--" he said, raising an eyebrow and holding his chin, "or like this?" he asked as he looked up to the sky, resting one side of his head on a hand and giving an affectation of boredom. "To write the perfect letter describing just how amazingly handsome I am requires the perfect-- oh, it is you plain law and order types again."
"Yeah," Heph said. "It's us. And we're here to give you your restraining order."
"No, take it away," Castillo said with a dismissive wave. "It does not deserve to be in the presence of such manly handsomeness without being perfect itself!"
"Sorry, you get the life of off-the-rack sameness the other stalkers get," Moby said.
"Off the rack? OFF THE RACK? I, Captain Ernesto Castillo de Nuñez de Las Unas de Los Dedos de Los Pies y Borracho-Flagrante do NEVER take things which are OFF THE RACK! For this," he said while grabbing a flamethrower, "for this we duel with flamethrowers! And my goodness I am a sexy beast when I am angry, am I not?"
Moby and Heph looked at each other, then back at Castillo.
"No," the said in unison as they punched him simultaneously.
Captain Castillo was knocked through a wall into his drawing room, where there were many portraits... of Captain Castillo. Some were paint, some were photographs, but all of them were the same: Captain Castillo sitting at a desk trying to look pensive.
"Ay! The room where I do all of my thinking and reading of the various catalogs for the purchase of well-tailored clothing and hair products! No one punches me into my sanctum sanctorum!" the Sky Raider leader said.
Heph stepped through the hole in the wall. "Let's see... whoa. Hey, Moby! Check this out! Someone thinks WAY too highly of himself!"
Moby popped his head through the wall. "It's egoriffic!"
"No one laughs at the many moods of Captain Castillo!" Castillo said as he tried to draw his flamethrower again. Heph swatted it out of his hands.
"Seriously, man, here's your orders. No going within 1000 yards of Doc Delilah. Failure to do so will result in you being arrested and sent to the jail where we send all the men who are too pretty for prison."
"Is it in Milan?"
"No, it's Ziggursky, just like everyone else," Heph said. "And... wait. What's that magazine on your chair there?"
"It's a catalog," Castillo said.
"Huh. International Male has a fashion line just for the Well-Dressed Air Pirate. Imagine that," Heph said.
"It could be worse, it could be Evil Serge or something," Moby said.
"It could be worse than that and be regular Serge," Heph replied.
"He has hands that are too cold for the inseam, yes," Castillo said.
Heph and Moby looked at each other again. "Ewww..."
*the screen fades to black and the credits roll*
Back Yard Boom - Emo Catgirl - Cobalt Claymore - Hephaestus 1
Avatar by Scarf_Girl!
Hephaestus 1 looked around at his new surroundings. Moby and Tiny Thor were watching the passageway for any signs of distress.
"When Coolio had that song about a Fantastic Voyage, he was lying the entire time. Raquel Welch isn't here, either," Hephaestus 1 grumbled. "We have been totally lied to by the entertainment industry."
"Cease your prattling, thou mechanical mortal," Tiny Thor said, "for Tiny Thor is gazing for signs of our vaunted foe."
The crew stumbled and fell as the passageway shook and creaked.
"Oh dear," Mobius Knight said. "I did not volunteer for what is about to happen."
"I really don't want it to end like this, either, Moby," Heph said.
Tiny Thor pulled the mighty hammer from his belt. "Finally! The battle comes to Tiny Thor! I SHALL TURN YE BACK, FOUL CREATURES OF THE NETHER WORLDS! SO SWEARS THE MINIATURE SON OF ODIN, NOW IN CAPSULE FORM!"
The scene fades out and the eyecatch for "Serv'd!" appears.
JUST WHEN YOU HOPED IT WOULD GET NORMAL AGAIN.
SERV'D! NEW EPISODE THURSDAY 9PM EASTERN ON THE HERO CHANNEL
ENCORE PRESENTATION FRIDAY 10PM EASTERN ON A&E.
Back Yard Boom - Emo Catgirl - Cobalt Claymore - Hephaestus 1
Avatar by Scarf_Girl!
(Season 2, Episode 12)
The apartment that Hephaestus 1 and Shava lived in was in a nicer section of town. Shava finally convinced Heph that despite weighing nearly 600 pounds, it would be okay if he lived on an upper floor apartment and not in a basement apartment. It also usually looked like a mad engineer's spare-parts box; spare bearing packets, servomotors, wire connectors and other parts covered the end tables, coffee table and entertainment center. Sometimes the only way to do maintenance in a relaxed situation is to work while watching football.
Today, though, everything was squared away, looking like the infamous "field days" of Heph's stint in the Marines. The apartment had been cleaned, shined, dusted, vacuumed and brushed. Streamers were hung near the ceiling, balloons floated in the air, and a sign proclaiming "HAPPY BIRTHDAY" was strung over the mantel between the living room and the kitchen. The kitchen was currently bustling with activity as Mobius Knight, Larry McGonigle, Fang, Heph and the camera crew were making final preparations.
"This is a little extravagant, don't you think, Heph?" Moby asked from under a sea-captain style party hat.
Heph, his antennae festooned with the traditional conical party hats looked over at Moby. "Hey, this is a very special day to me, Lar. It's the day when I celebrate having a little light brought into my previously-dark life!"
"You're celebrating your cats' birthdays, Heph," Moby said.
"And you don't remember the day you first got Snugglesworth?" Fang asked.
"... I remember. Kind of," Moby said, "but it's not like I hold a freakin' party for him!"
"I distinctly remember someone checking Super Meats Butcher Shop for a perfect bacon-wrapped filet a few months ago," Heph said.
"Well, I like bacon-wrapped filets!"
"Then why were you comparing the color and quality of the meat to a birthday candle? You kept rejecting some pretty good cuts, there," Heph said, the smirk obvious in his voice.
"Maybe it was for Terra," Moby said.
"The candle was shaped like a Milk-Bone," Heph said.
Awkward silence ensued, broken only by a Terra-like "AHEM!" from out in the living room.
"She has a sense of humor," Moby replied in a weak defense.
Fang shook his head. "Moby, I'm the only person here who's even -remotely- canine and even -I- know better than to say something like that in front of a camera."
"I'm going to die, aren't I?" Moby said.
"Nah, Terra's not listed as your beneficiary yet. She'll wait." Heph said.
Larry, Mitch and Clem worked on getting the cake for the cats ready. "Happy Bithday to Ozzie and Pudge," Mitch said. "Wait. There's no r in 'birthday', Clem."
"Uh, yes, there is, otherwise it'd be 'bithday' and people would have bith certificates," Clem shot back.
"No, man, there's no r in 'birthday'."
"Spell it out!" Clem snapped.
"B-I-R-T-H-D-A-Y," Mitch replied. "But there's no r in 'birthday'!"
"You. Just. Said. It." Clem said through clenched teeth.
"Clem!" Larry shouted. "Read the damn cake!"
Clem snorted. "Fine. 'Happy Bithday to- oh, you're right. There's no r in 'birthday'. Lemme fix that."
"I oughta smack you," Mitch grumbled. "I'm afraid I'd catch your case of stupid, though."
After an hour or so, the cast and crew of "Serv'd!" walked into the living room with a huge pan of mostaccioli, a large bowl of salad, chips, drinks, cake, and two cat-sized cuts of New York Strip, placing it before the assembled guests.
"Thanks, everyone for showing up for this party," Heph said. "Today I'm celebrating the births of the two little guys who were the first living creatures to accept me in my current cyborg form, two loveable little fuzzballs who became my link to sanity, the--"
Heph's communicator buzzed. He opened it up. "Hang on a sec, folks. Huh. 'Get on with it, Dad.' That's the last time I mistake an uplift chamber for something that will make the cats hover."
"An' the last 'ime you'll 'o in my lab, 'oo," Shava, Heph's pyromaniac alien girlfriend, grumbled. "Unless you -like- bein' set on fire."
"No, dear," Heph mumbled to the laughs of the rest of the group. "Anyway, let's everybody put on these stupid party hats and sing Happy Birthday to my cats, all--" Heph looked at his communicator again. "'No singing, just eating.' That's my little Pudgeums."
Heph's cats rolled their eyes. Shava did as well, having learned that rolling one's eyes was truly a universal sign of annoyance.
"Fine. I guess no one wants to hear my awesome speech about my cats. Let's eat, then!" Heph said.
Moby was in line first to get a plate of mostaccioli. "I'm sure it was a very good speech," the swordsman said.
"It was," Heph grumbled.
Larry's plate was almost slopping over with food. "Man, I love Italian food! Too bad you couldn't have saved a steak for us, too."
"I told you guys that I was getting them for my cats. Besides-" his communicator buzzed again. He looked at it and poured some steak sauce onto the steaks for the cats.
"Well, happy birthday, you two," Heph said, scratching the cats gently on their heads.
After dinner, most of the guests sat around chatting and watching football while Heph cleaned up. Larry walked into the kitchen, clutching his stomach.
"Heph, do you guys have an antacid or something in here? I don't think that dinner agreed with my new health supplement."
"Health supplement?" Heph asked.
"Yeah, I saw it on the... ouch! Late-night infomercial. That new weight-loss pill."
"You mean Colon Thunder? The one that 'cleanses with lightning'?"
"Yeah..." Larry said.
"Larry, those pills are made by Morgoth Carter-Whatley! We delivered a cease-and-desist letter to him after the first product injury claims!" Heph shook his head. "Come on, we'd better get you to the hospital."
"It's not that bad, Heph," Larry said. "I just need an antacid or something!"
Larry would have said more, but suddenly he was cut off by a literal thunderclap from his nether regions.
"Ooh. Yeah, hospital is a good idea," the legal liaison said.
"What 'id you EAT, Larry?" Shava yelled from the living room. "I 'an smell it from here! Nobody light a match!"
"And that's why I love her, Lar," Heph said.
"Because she'll kick a guy when he's down?"
"Yeah, that works, too, I guess," Heph said. "Let's get you over to the hospital. Oh, and you -will- hang that out the window. I just got the interior detailed."
Moby, Larry, Fang and Heph were in the emergency room of Crown Medical center. The doctors looked at the heroes oddly. Why weren't they running out the door to fight crime? A sudden thunderclap gave them a full understanding as to why they weren't leaving. A young intern walked up to the team. "So, uh, which of you guys is sick?"
"That'd be the guy whose lower intestine is being cleansed with lightning," Heph said.
"Oh. Another Colon Thunder case? I thought they got all of that stuff off the market!" the intern said. "Well, Doctor Nehru is ready to see you now."
In 30 minutes, Larry was sitting on an examination table and grumbling. "You guys didn't need to come in here."
Heph shrugged. "Hey, if you're going to explode from this I figured I'd get it on film."
"All this for ratings, huh? What wouldn't you do to increase your ratings?" Larry asked.
"Run in slow motion while not wearing any pants. I would definitely not do that," Heph answered.
The intern looked over at Heph. "Why not?"
Heph leaned over and whispered into the intern's ear. The intern's eyes widened in shock and some small amount of horror. "The guy who built your cybershell really -is- a genius!"
Larry doubled over from a vicious cramp. A thunderclap and bright flash filled the room.
"That's bad," Fang said.
An unassuming Indian man in a lab coat walked in. "Yes, yes it is. It looks like Mr. McGonigle has ingested multiple dosages of Colon Thunder all at once. That's what we call 'a bad idea' where I come from."
"Doctor Nehru, I presume?" Heph said.
"Yes. And no jacket jokes, either. I'm sick of those," the doctor said. "It's as bad as my friend who is head of his country club's board of directors, Doctor Mao."
"He's the chairman, huh?" Heph asked. The doctor nodded.
"I only became a doctor because my parents said I'd never make it as a comedian in Omaha," Doctor Nehru replied. "Anyhoo, Mr. McGonigle has taken a mega-dose of this health supplement, and it's having an adverse effect."
"It feels like the end of the world down there," Larry complained.
"That's because it probably is. You were aware that each capsule has a tiny version of Thor, the Norse god of thunder in it, right?"
"The label said it was a mixture of elements designed to help me lose weight."
"Yeah, that's what we call a 'lie' in the medical community," Doctor Nehru said, emphasizing the word "lie" with air quotes. "No, the creator of this pill managed to trap Thor in a weird spell of some kind, split him into millions of tiny copies and stuck them into pills. Then through the rage of the mini-Thors people lose weight. The loss is usually sudden, violent and painful."
"So how do we fix this?" Larry asked, clutching his stomach.
"We send in negotiators."
Heph's mechanical eyebrow raised. "What?"
"We send in negotiators. They convince Thor to leave with minimal fuss and the day is saved. But someone has to go in there."
"Hell no," Heph, Fang, Larry and Moby (who was sitting outside and listening in on the conversation) said simultaneously.
"Let me see if I can get our team of specialists on the phone." With that, Doctor Nehru walked out.
Two hours later, Doctor Nehru came back. "They're, uh, busy. We'll need other negotiators. How would you guys like to--"
"NO," the four men said again.
"I'll die before I let these guys do surgery on me!"
"Oh, they won't be doing surgery. They'll be dealing with Thor face to face."
"What?" Heph said.
"Yes. We shrink you guys down to fit in there. Or we would, if the miniaturization chamber wasn't in use."
A little red-headed alien known better as Shava and even better as Heph's girlfriend, appeared in the doorway, her prehensile tail twitching and a look of glee on her face. "I think I may be of assistance," she said as she unslung a large rifle from her back. "I 'ot my shrink ray out of the lab, Heph."
"Ohhh dear," Mobius Knight said.
"I think it's 'ime for a little payback for 'oing into my lab without asking," Shava said with a grin. "You ought 'o volunteer and 'o in there, Heph."
"I don't want to see my liaison's intestinal lining, dear," Heph said.
"Don't worry! You'll have the finest medical backup in there," the fuzzy alien woman said, shooting a glance at Moby.
"Ohhhh no! Not happening!" Moby shouted.
"You're a doctor, so 'o doct," Shava said as she pointed the shrink ray at the swordsman.
*the scene switches suddenly to a tv studio office where Heph, Moby, Shava, Fang, Larry, and the entire technical crew behind "Serv'd!" are crowded in front of the camera.*
Heph looked into the camera with as much intent as his emotionless face could muster. "Ladies and gentlemen of the "Serv'd!" audience, it is with deep regret that we cannot show you the end to this episode. I mean, this stuff was too weird even for me! Okay, it's not so much regret but right after Shava shrunk us, we wound up fighting Tiny Thor and then fighting alongside Tiny Thor against the Invasion of the Polyp People. Frankly my editors and I couldn't find a single relatively cable-friendly shot of Larry's large intestine that was even vaguely dignifying to the guy. The only decent stuff we had was what we used for the promo commercial and even then, we had to do a LOT of CGI editing to make it appealing to primetime audiences. That made it go from reality television to non-reality television, and I can't do that to my audience."
"When Heph gets an attack of conscience and decides that dignity is worth more than ratings, you know it's a bad situation," Moby added.
Shava crossed her arms and scowled. "I thought it was entertaining, but 'o they listen 'o me? No!"
Heph looked over at Shava. "It's okay, Shava. You still get paid either way."
Shava harrumphed and looked away from her big blue boyfriend. "Should've set you on fire in the first place for 'oing in my lab without asking me."
Heph looked back at the camera. "Seriously, everyone. If you see something on late-night infomercials that seem too good to be true, DON'T BUY IT. We nearly lost the butt of a bunch of jokes and running gags because of it."
Larry scowled at Heph.
"No pun intended?" the cyborg said with a shrug.
*credits roll with the message "We might put the raw footage on DVD, but don't count on it."*
Back Yard Boom - Emo Catgirl - Cobalt Claymore - Hephaestus 1
Avatar by Scarf_Girl!
Claire was sitting in front of her computer sniffling and fighting back a few tears. Mary Pachowski, always one capable of hearing a child's distress walked into Claire's room.
"Oh, what's wrong, Sweetie?" she asked her young hero of a daughter.
"They- they-" Claire's voice choked up into sobs. "They killed his teacher!" she blurted out.
"Who? Which teacher? Where was this? When?"
"Just n-now," Claire said. "Here..." She pressed play on the video. One of her favorite cartoons in fan-subtitled format began to play.
Mary's look of concern changed to annoyance. "It's that ninja cartoon again isn't it? Grow up a little, Claire. It's only television."
Mary shook her head. Kids cry over the dumbest things sometimes...
Back Yard Boom - Emo Catgirl - Cobalt Claymore - Hephaestus 1
Avatar by Scarf_Girl!
Steel Canyon, 19th floor, Violet Raccoon's apartment
Irine was feeling moody. True, the fact that she was feeling anything at all was tantamount to a miracle, having been nearly blown in half by an explosive round from the international assassin formerly known as The Dutchman, but still. It was one thing to be the registered hero Violet Raccoon with your cover blown, totally different to be infused with an alien in order to survive. The Kheldian transference had enabled her to survive not only her initial wounds, but a second assassination attempt.
Now however, she was on medical leave. Oh she was healthy, in fact healthier than she had been before the incident. Problem was, the Bureau didn't have any procedures for dealing with Kheldian agents-while she was cleared, her new half was not. According to the assistant director, due to the nature of the injuries she sustained in the line of duty, she would probably qualify for full medical retirement-not what she was looking forward to at the age of 24, barely out of the Academy.
There were worries that the Alverez cartel would try again to come after her, hence her being moved to a new apartment in a building built by the Wolftec construction division. After the alien attacks, giant squids, supervillian infestations and the like that Paragon City had been through over the years, the building was designed to survive anything short of a nuke, and even that was debatable. It wasn't a bad apartment, it just wasn't feeling like home.
<you are being silly again, home is where you wear your hat>
That caused her to chuckle you've been watching old movies again haven't you while I'm asleep? she asked her other half. His name wasn't exactly pronounceable in any earth language, but she'd taken to calling him Harvey, which seemed to amuse the peacebringer for some reason.
<I admit nothing, but you did have your netflicks account transferred to your new address..>
Fine, but if Zoolander shows up in the mail, it's calamari time
There was an amused chuckle from the other mind. It had been weird at first, but he (she? It?) was new to earth, and devoured popular culture like a sponge trying to learn as much as possible, especially about bringing evildoers to justice. (fortunately he was over the Starsky and Hutch fixation he had been on for a few weeks). While continuing the registered hero gig would be something to fill her time, it wasn't what she wanted. She'd grown up watching her parents rise through the ranks for the FBI, and being an agent was one of the things she'd wanted since she was in grade school. The other, helped pay her way through college, or more accurately, she paid more than it paid back. Still, the Gibson Thunderbird IV was one of the better Bass guitars on the market. She had played through high school and college, and had been in an all girl punk band who's members were ironically Bureau employees.
They lost their drummer however during the second rikti invasion, killed in the attacks, and their lead singer was promoted to a position in St Louis. She hadn't really played since then, though on the urging of Harvey she'd picked it up again. She slipped the headphones on, even though the new apartments were well insulated, she'd gotten into the habit from living in her old place, and closing her eyes, started playing.
She wasn't sure how long she'd been going when she could feel Harvey's hackles (if thats what they were) rising <There is someone lurking outside the window, shall we bring them to justice?>
outside? We're nineteen stories up she said turning her head, then relaxing. It was a familiar face, and one even the bureau guards watching the front doors would have let in. She slipped the headphones off and set the bass down, going over to open the window How long have you been out there, and why didn't you ring the doorbell?
The small sheep hybrid known as Kelly Lamb just grinned as she floated in through the open window about 20 minutes, and I did ring the bell. The man downstairs said you were in, thought you might be playing, so came to listen she said as her polished hooves lightly touched the floor.
what, to see how out of practice I am?
Kelly smirked don't sell yourself short, thats what you always told me isn't it? Which was true, Irine had been one of the leaders of the Defenders of Paragon, though had stepped down that position once she became an active agent with the FBI, with Kelly taking her place. anyway, that's sort of why I stopped by. I got an offer to do a concert, and I would like to have you there with me. I need a good bass player.
I'm not that good-
Kelly just gave her a look you were playing YYZ-pretty darn well I might add.
<she does have a point, you do tend to understate your own skills, and from what I have heard listening to you, and to others, is you are more skilled than you give yourself credit for>
That caused her to blush thanks....so, this isn't going to be Celine Dion type stuff I hope? And where is it going to be?
oh no, the only thing they want me to do is a song from the Phantom of the Opera, other than that, I can do whatever I want. And it's at the Golden Giza.
oh that's good-wait, you mean St Martial?!
uh huh! I already have Visa's and everything, both from Etolie and the US-though we'll have to fly to Bermuda, there's no direct flights.
Wait-visas? The State Department is ok withyou going?
She nodded apparently they feel it will build good will, and reduce tensions or something.
But these are the same guys that kidnapped you not long ago. She'd read Modern Samurai's report of his rescue of Kelly from Ghost Widow's tower, though it made for surreal reading to be honest. Still, she'd met Ghost Widow, and had actually been to the Rogue Isles herself officially several years back, working on a joint investigation into rogue nuclear weapons being sold. Neither Recluse nor the US wanted those on the open market, leading to a rare moment of cooperation.
<something in this does not seem right>
(you're right) she replied mentally (still, if they did give her the visas...either they have someone in our government, or the whole thing is legit.)
<you are considering this? Traveling to that den of Evil?>
(not everyone there is, in fact the majority of the population just wants to live their lives. Still, I think we should-assuming they let me go)
Alright, though I'll have to run it by the Bureau, I may be on medical leave, but I still need to let them know about something like this. I don't think they'll say no.
Kelly squealed happily and hugged the red headed girl thanks! It'll be great, I just know it!
there was a pause from Harvey <...I've got a bad feeling about this>
"What's th' matter, kid?"
Smith (no first name -- it's an alias) looked up from his textbook to see Mr. Kirby towering over him.
"What makes you think something's wrong?" Smith asked.
"Well, either somethin's buggin' ya, 'r yer practicin' readin' upsides down."
Smith glanced down at his history book and, yes, indeed it was upside down. He really wasn't studying -- he needed a quiet place to think, and had come to the meditation garden in Maggie's Rock for that very reason. That it was Mr. Kirby who was interrupting his ponderation was particularly irksome. He had heard about the school's head of security and his "advice". He seemed to think that all teenagers were slaves to their raging hormones, and worse -- the big man couldn't bring himself to talk about sex outright. Mr. Kirby was known for the most inappropriate euphamisms imaginable.
Smith smiled pleasantly as he crafted a lie that might send the unwanted company on his way.
"I'm meditating, sir. An upside down book is sort of like 'white noise' in that respect -- it helps you clear away unwanted sensory stimulations."
Mr. Kirby's posture straightened and his chest puffed out, and Smith knew that he had somehow said the wrong thing.
"Well, kid, lemme tell ya," Mr. Kirby began (and Smith realized that his plight was now hopeless; he was about to experience the wisdom of the mighty HEROID first hand), "Sounds ta me like meditatin' ain't gonna fix yer perdictament. I mean... sensual stimulation... Yer gonna have ta... How kin I put this?... Yer gonna have ta take yer problem in hand so ta speak."
"Wait, sir -- I think you --"
"I think I git where yer comin' from kid. I wuz a young'un once m'self. An' lemme tell ya, when yer yer age an' ya got all these perty girls around, yeah, it can git ta yer head an' make ya misfire, if ya know what I mean."
Smith had no idea what he meant, and didn't want to think about it.
"What I mean is -- yer thinkin' 'bout some girl ya like, an' next thing ya know, yer math class is half over an' ya didn't even know ya wuz in th' classroom."
"Well, I --"
"But I'm gonna tell ya a secret kid -- one that got me all th' way through eleventh grade. Ya don't need no washin' machine ta do yer laundry."
"What?"
"Ya don't. It's like ships. Ya don't wanna mess up a fine ocean liner on 'er maiden voyage -- ya kin just work with a tugboat 'til yer a little older."
"Wait.. what?"
"Jus' remember -- NASA don't launch a rocket everyday, an' you don't need ta neither. Temperment in all things, jus' like Ben Franklin said."
"What?"
"What's 'er name, kid?"
"Whose name?"
Smith tried to make sense out of the conversation, but he couldn't. He had a vague feeling that he should be uncomfortable, embarrassed, even offended, but mostly, he was just befuddled. That's why her name slipped out of his lips before he could shut his mouth.
"Jessie."
"Wait... Jessie Eagle?"
"Yes, sir."
"Ya mean yer sittin' here havin' desirable thoughts 'bout li'l Jessie?"
"Well, sir, she's fift--"
"I knowed her since she wuz a runt! An' yer havin' impure ideas about her?"
"No! I -- we -- I mean she's my -- We're just dating!"
"Lissen, kid. I'm gonna give ya one las' piece o' advice. If ya make a move on 'er. If ya... try an'... an'... well, y' know what ya better not try! 'Cause if ya try it, well... I don't wanna make no outright threats here, 'cause I'm givin' ya th' benefit o' th' doubt, but her poppa Smersh, her Uncle Shinsekter, an' me, well... we don't take kindly ta nobody messin' with our Jessie. Got that?"
Now it made sense. Mr. Kirby thought that he was going to try to...
Smith stood up straight and tall so that he could come as close to eye level with Mr. Kirby as he possibly could.
He looked up at the big man and said, "My feelings for Jessie are my business, and my thoughts about her are my own."
The veins in Mr. Kirby's neck began to stand out.
Smith continued calmly and confidently, "I understand that there are many here who love her and are concerned for her welfare and future well-being -- I among them -- but she can't be treated as if she is a helpless child. She's been in the thick of mortal combat. She's seen things that other girls her age could not imagine -- demons, alien monsters, evil warlords -- and fought them and won. Don't you think she can handle any unwanted advances from a bantamweight like me?"
Mr. Kirby scowled down at him for a moment and Smith was sure he was about to be clouted. Instead the scowl gave way to a big grin, and Kirby clapped a huge paw down across Smith's shoulder.
"Ya know, kid -- yer all right."
Smith almost collapsed from the force of the pat, but managed to stay on his feet and stammer out, "Thank you, sir."
"Yeah," Kirby said with a laugh, "Yer all right. Don't gotta kill ya after all."
Smith relaxed and when Mr. Kirby turned to leave, he sat back down beside his book.
"Kid?"
Smith gave Kirby his attention again.
"Yes, sir?"
"Some free advice -- don't try that 'standin' up like a man' thing with Shin -- he'll cut yer legs off at th' knees."
"Some free advice -- don't try that 'standin' up like a man' thing with Shin -- he'll cut yer legs off at th' knees."
Or fingers, or subtly remind you what a nutcracker can be used for, or give you lessons in 1001 new things you never thought could be used to hurt you.
((Episode 13!))
*"Serv'd!" opening credits & music blah blah blah*
After the latest fiasco involving superheroics, Hephaestus 1 and Mobius Knight were sitting in the SUV and arguing.
"We are never doing that again, Heph," Moby said.
"I agree with you," the big blue cyborg replied. "I've been agreeing with you for the entire time."
"I hold you responsible for having to be shrunk to a microscopic size, loaded up into a syringe, injected through a guy's skin and through the outer layers of of his intestinal wall, forced to negotiate with a tiny Norse god, being assaulted by creatures that can't be properly described on cable, and finally I hold you responsible for my friends outside of work snickering behind my back!" Moby said, sticking his finger in Heph's face.
"Look, it was an emergency. You're a doctor, or at least you've got some kind of medical training, right? Larry is our friend and our boss. Were you going to let him suffer like that?"
"Considering the solution? Yes. Very yes," the swordsman growled. "He can live out the rest of his life in lightning-induced pain for the rest of eternity for all I care! I was stuck in that man's colon for two hours!"
"Oh, I know. I was there, too, remember?" Heph yelled. "Or is it all about widdle Mobums being inconvenienced and sent headlong into incomprehensible danger? Is it too much for you? Can't hack it?"
"Oh, I can, but I'm sick of having to face threats like this! We get sent on the dumbest assignments!" Moby pointed at the onboard computer system. "Look at our work list! Leash law violations for War Wolves, Cease-and-Desist orders for the group of people who heckle new heroes looking for the Lost in Kings Row, a summons based on import law violations for Dr. Vahzilok because he's using more than 20 percent foreign parts in what he builds, and that's just the start! Heph, we get nothing but the dumbest jobs!"
"No one else can do these jobs, dumb or not. These jobs require heroes to do them because regular people tend to get injured from the kind of responses they get to delivering these court papers," Heph said. "If you don't like it, then quit. I'll find another partner who can put up the work."
"Quit?" Moby asked. "Quit? What, and see you happy that your partner isn't complaining? Oh, hell no."
Heph sighed. "Then keep your complaints to yourself. Besides, we're getting a new assignment as of today. We're still doing process serving, but we're also going to be doing some PR work. Nice, easy PR work.
Heph's cellphone connection beeped. "Hang on. Hello? What? NOW? But I- Okay, I'll be right there. Yes, I'm leaving now. No, I- No- I- That- Look, I'll be- Okayfinehangingupnowbye!" The cyborg shook his head.
"What's going on?" Moby said.
"That was Shava on the phone. I have to get home. Immediately, in fact," Heph said. "My parents dropped in for a visit."
"You have parents?" Moby asked.
"Yes. I do have parents," Heph grumbled as he pulled the SUV out of the parking lot and headed home. "Larry's assignments can wait."
Heph pulled into his usual parking space and saw a familiar station wagon parked just up the street. It was an older model of Subaru, one of the earlier wagons from the mid-1980s. Heph's parents bought it when they downsized from a 1970s-era car to one that reflected fewer children still living at home with them. There were two people on the stoop besides Shava: a large barrel-chested man whose gray hair was flecked with black and a short, skinny woman with slowly-fading red hair and a slight frown of disapproval on her face. Heph turned the SUV off and extended the solar array to recharge the battery for the hybrid's electric motor. He stepped out of the van and walked over to the stoop.
"Hi, Mom! Hi, Dad!"
The aging redhead threw her arms around her big cyborg son as be she could. "Ah, Mickey, 'tis a happy day in your poor old mother's life that she can see her oldest son again!" she said in a thick Irish accent.
"Uh, hey, Mom," Heph said as he gently returned his mother's hug.
The gray-haired man just nodded. "Boy."
"Dad. How was the drive?"
"Sixteen hours. Turnpike problems."
Heph nodded. "Yep. Sounds right."
"Got a cold beer in the fridge for your father?"
"Do we as a family tend to listen when the Pope talks?"
The old man grinned. "I'll grab one for you, too."
Shava just scowled. "They just showed up. You 'idn't say anything about this."
"I didn't know about it." Heph looked at his mother. "Uh, Mom, why are you and Dad here?"
"We just decided to pop in and see how you were doing, Mickey," Mrs. O'Flannagan said. "An' who's the fellow in the scarf and mask? Your partner on your tv show, right?"
"Uh, yeah, this is Mobius Knight, my teammate. Moby, this is my mom. Dad just went in to grab a beer."
"Nice to meet you," Moby said as he extended his hand. "You can call me Moby. And your name is...?"
"Mrs. O'Flannagan to you, lad," Heph's mother said. "We haven't known each other long enough for first names to be used."
Moby's eyebrow raised. "I... see."
Mrs. O'Flannagan looked over at her son again. "I've met Shava now, and I'm sure we can get along just fine," she said through gritted teeth. "Even if you two're doing God-Knows-What in a complete mockery of your parents' holy matrimony!"
"Mom, stop saying that," Heph said. "I'm legally obliged to not mention what Shava and I do together during our time off."
"Oh really?" Mrs. O'Flannagan asked.
"It got written into the contract for the rest of the team," Heph said dejectedly.
"Well, I'm no party to either side of the contract, so as your mother I'll tell you to stop being such a heathen!"
"Mom!" Heph yelled. "Quit that!"
Heph's father walked out of the apartment, a beer in each hand. "Boy," he said with a scowl, "Don't yell at your mother."
"Yes, sir. I apologize, Mom," Heph said.
"Now, as for the woman in your life, son, I approve. Even if we wind up having some kind of flamethrower duel or something, she's a good woman... she -is- a woman, right?" Mrs. O'Flannagan asked.
"Yes, but I'm not allowed to say how I know on account of the fact that the crew is here and filming and thus obliged under contract to not say anything," Heph said back.
"Well, at least you're willing not to breach a contract," Mrs. O'Flannagan said.
Shava nodded. "No contract breaches that I know of. He's 'ood like that."
"Uh, yeah," Heph said. "I'll go get the guest room set up."
"Oh, don't you mind, Mickey, I'm sure we can find some hotel somewhere in town, one that's not too rat-infested," Mrs. O'Flannagan said as Mr. O'Flannagan rolled his eyes. Mrs. O'Flannagan jabbed her husband in the side with a shillelagh.
"When 'id we 'et a 'uest room?" Shava asked, her tail twitching. "We aren't using my lab!"
"I was thinking the low-gravity room maybe?"
Shava's face turned sour. "The low 'rav room is for us, Heph."
"I know, but it's my parents," Heph said.
"No. They can sleep on the couch," Shava said. "Or they can 'o to the hotel by the police station."
"The one by the gun shop, bar, and vacant lot filled with Skulls and Clockwork?"
"It's close by," Shava said.
"Gun shop?" Mr. O'Flannagan said. "There's one in town?"
"Yeah, Dad," Heph said.
"Handguns?"
"Yeah, Dad."
"Think they'd let a retired Chicago cop look around?"
"Probably, but how are you going to get it home?"
"Clout?"
Heph slapped his forehead. "Dad, this is Paragon City. Clout doesn't work here."
"Riiiight, clout doesn't work here," Mr. O'Flannagan said. "once again, your old man is going to prove you wrong, Mickey."
"Dad, please don't try--"
"No, don't try to stop me, and I promise I won't say I told you so when I manage to get a gun delivered home to the shop my friends own."
"What, the one run by the Indian chick and her tiny blonde bomb-throwing assistant?"
"Yeah, the one with the car you always wanted."
"The GT500? She still has it?" Heph asked.
"Yeah." Mr. O'Flannagan said.
"Fine, fine, fine. It's your federal weapons charges, not mine, Dad," Heph said. "Well, let's get you over to the hotel."
Hours later, Heph and Moby were sitting in Larry McGonigle's office. Moby's evil grin couldn't be hidden at all by his mask. Larry, Clem and Earl were all looking at each other and smiling.
"So, she actually pulled out pictures of Heph when he was a baby?" Larry said.
"Yeah," Moby said. "The baby pictures were cute, but the one of him running around the house as Astro Boy was downright hilarious!" the swordsman said.
"I was six!" Heph sputtered.
"How you got your hair to stand like that I'll never know," Moby said.
"Lard," Heph grumbled.
"Who knew that years later you'd be running around in an actual robotic body?" Larry chuckled.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Heph said, trying to change the subject. "What've we got?"
"Oh, you'll love this. In order to provide a further community service, the District Court system has set up a lottery system for people to ride along with you guys.
"WHAT?" the four men exclaimed.
"Yep," Larry said as he pulled up the website. "People pay for the chance at riding with you guys on your assignments."
"But... but that means we're going to have to protect them!" Heph said. "And you know the kind of weird things that happen to us!"
"Yes, I know. That weirdness helped the courts raise a few million dollars to pay for renovating the building. The result? The state didn't have to use as much tax money so other programs were spared. Besides, this is an easy one. You're bringing a summons to a guy who's a known Nemesis Army member. He uses a scrap-dealing business to funnel parts to Nemesis. However, your summons is only bring him to Small Claims court. He's been cheating people on brass and aluminum recycling prices."
"Wait, he's with Nemesis?" Heph asked.
"Yes. But until we get some solid evidence other than just his admission, we can't go after him for that. We can, however, get him for cheating kids out of money for scrap brass and aluminum cans."
Heph picked up the summons envelope and put it into his jacket pocket. "We'll be back in a bit."
"Wait, Heph, you'll need to take along the ride-along winner with you. She just got into town today," Larry said with a slowly-spreading grin that caused a great amount of consternation for Heph.
"She's not from Chicago, is she?" Heph asked.
"Oh, she is," Larry said. "You know her quite well."
Heph used a lot of rather harsh words describing the fate which befell him.
Mrs. O'Flannagan stepped into the room. "Sure an' those words aren't to describe me, are they, boyo?"
"No, Mom," Heph said as he got up to leave. "Look, can we just go now? We've got to get this call over and done with."
"And a fine thing it is to see my son doing his job, just without the foul language," Mrs. O'Flannagan said.
Heph just muttered to himself as the team and their ride-along guest went to the SUV. The crew of "Serv'd!" stopped for lunch before they headed off to the scrap dealer.
"I'll tell you what I hate, Moby," Hephaestus 1 said to his partner as they pulled into a local drive-in restaurant. "Ride-along programs."
"Are they really that bad?" Mobius Knight asked.
"Well, you have to watch out for your rider as well as yourself. To make things worse, you wind up doing all kinds of stupid crap to ensure they don't get caught in the middle of some inside joke or practical joke war when they're being briefed at the station." Heph looked into the rearview mirror and sighed.
Staring back at him from the rear passenger bench seat was one Mrs. O'Flannagan, his mother. "Oh, don't mind me, boyo. I'll just be sittin' in the back seat here prayin' the Holy Rosary fer your heathen soul!"
"Oooooh, someone's in trouble," Moby said with a smirk under his mask. He was rewarded with a quick smack on the back of the head with a shillelagh.
"Waagh!" Moby said with surprise. "What was that for?"
"Sure an' that's 'cause yer with him!" Mrs. O'Flannagan. "Oh, my poor son, caught up in a nest of loose women and bad friends! It'd drive the saints to tears!"
The only sound that could be heard was that of Heph's metal head hitting the steering wheel repeatedly.
"I may approve of your girlfriend, Mickey, but you still need to listen to your mother and just wait until you're married."
Heph was still headbutting the steering wheel.
Moby patted his friend on the shoulder. "It's okay, big guy. This explains so much about you."
"Oh, shut up," Heph said. He stopped headbutting the steering wheel, turned the key and they drove off with their lunch.
The crew arrived at the scrap dealer. A very shifty-looking man looked up at the approaching car, got up, and ran into the warehouse where the business was located.
"That's him!" Moby said as he identified the man through his Paragon PD communicator. Heph caught up with the running man and hit the brakes, opened his door and rolled out of the SUV as it came to a full stop.
"Hang on a second there, Sparky!" Heph shouted as he grabbed the scrap dealer by the collar of his shirt. The dealer had the door half open, and a quick bass drum beat could be heard from inside.
"I'm just trying to run a business here! I'm not selling liquor or anything, just let me run my business!" the dealer said nervously.
"Right, but you can't cheat people by not giving them the posted prices for their scrap metal!" Heph said. That's why we're here to give you a-" Heph looked inside. His mechanical Eyebrow of Surprise and Disbelief popped up.
Heph turned to his partner. "Moby?"
"Yeah?" Moby asked as he got to the door.
"Make sure Mom is distracted. Away from the door."
"It's too late, Mickey," Mrs. O'Flannagan said. "I came to see what it is that you do for myself and- SAINTS PRESERVE US!" she said as she averted her eyes.
"That's why I wanted you to be distracted, Mom," Heph said. "This guy isn't just running a crooked scrap business, he's also running a robot strip club."
Two identical female-type robots popped their heads out the door. "Hello, Hephaestus 1," they said in unison. "Have you come to see us perform?"
"Uh, Mom, I'd like you to meet two robots whom I know through the community group I founded for cyborgs, robots and their family members. Mom, this is BOOG-E and WOOG-E, the Android Sisters. They're uh, dancers..."
"Dancers? Robot hookers is more like it!" Mrs. O'Flannagan said.
"I thought Larry said we were going to have normal cases, Heph. He promised!" Moby said.
"Don't get all butthurt about it, Moby," Heph said.
"Correction to Hephaestus 1's mother," the Android Sisters said. "We're not robot hookers. We are custom-built exotic dance gynoids designed to seduce anything with a pulse or full battery charge in the case of other self-aware robots."
"LA LA LA THE ROBOTS ARE NOT TALKING ABOUT SEX IN FRONT OF ME," Moby shouted as he clasped his hands over his ears. "LA LA LA!"
Heph's mother wasn't sure whether to be scandalized or amused as the two robot sisters stepped out, covered in little more than a thick layer of strategically-placed Turtle Wax and curve-enhancing pinstriping.
"There are not naked robots in front of me! Nope, not at all!" Moby said until he was greeted with a smack on the head with Mrs. O'Flannagan's shillelagh.
"Ah, an orbital buffer show, huh? I wasn't aware that was part of your routine," Heph said as he was also greeted a smack on the head from his mother's shillelagh.
"My poor cyborg son is thrown from one den of iniquity to another! No wonder you're so stressed!" Mrs. O'Flannagan said. "Well, take care of the business at hand and let's go, Mickey. We'll talk about this when we get home. And how can you let such robots of ill-repute into an organization like COMMA?"
"The Committee Of Modern Mecha-Americans does not discriminate based on race, creed, origin, sexual orientation, employment or manufacturer, Mom," Heph said. "We don't judge, and besides, if one of our own is doing something wrong, we love the sinner but hate the sin, so to speak."
"That's a lot of sin in there," Mrs. O'Flannagan said as she craned her neck to see past the Android Sisters. "A lot of- OH MY!"
A large brass and steel body trudged its way to the door. Nemesis, or one of his fakes at least, stood there in a large fur-lined purple cape, draped in gold chains and wearing an outrageously large fur-trimmed purple hat with an equally outrageously-large feather. The robot leaned on his staff topped with revolving gears and rotating dollar signs.
"Well, Hephaestus 1, as I function and combust! What brings you to my little VIP showroom?" Nemesis said.
"Oh good grief," Heph said as the scene faded to black.
*credits roll*
Back Yard Boom - Emo Catgirl - Cobalt Claymore - Hephaestus 1
Avatar by Scarf_Girl!
((For those who don't know, "Happy Pony Rainbow Squad: The Midnight Directive" is my spoof of 80s cartoon shows like GI Joe and Spiral Zone and the like. Imagine GI Joe written by Warren Ellis. Then for the sake of absurdity (and to get it past the censors) make the characters all My Little Pony-type ponies. As a result it gets to be incredibly violent and gory, peppered with lots of adult themes such as heavy drug use, political intrigue and using sex as psychological warfare. Yes, this is also marketed directly at kids in a toy line by a major manufacturer of children's goods. Metalocalypse would be a great lead-in for this show. If they just used regular people, this show would never be aired except maybe on HBO. When you use adorable children's animated characters, though, you get comedy gold covered in the blood of the unsuspecting. And yes, it does tell in a very twisted way the story of what the Cobalt Claymore's parents did for a living before he was born. The questions now are who is broadcasting this and why. With that explanation out of the way, enjoy the story.))
As was his regular weekly ritual, the Cobalt Claymore tuned into the next exciting episode of the cartoon series "Happy Pony Rainbow Squad: The Midnight Directive." The hero watched with rapt attention as normal.
"No, Ninja Princess Mai! You can't take our foals back to your Secret Ninja Lair where they'll be turned into equine engines of silent death!" Butter Brickle Alpha shouted over the sound of gunfire and ninja pony martial arts attacks. "Families are supposed to stick together!"
"When you decided to turn the Squad into an ally of the Gloomy Gang, things changed," the leader of the ninja ponies said.
"We've been wrong all along! The other members of the Squad realized it, too! We were lied to for all these years!"
"No, you chose to follow orders without question. It was the right thing to do, but you have forsaken the power that comes with it. What our foals will learn is where true power exists. The Midnight Directive is the source of that power and we will use it as we see fit. Now, die like a good ex-husband and let me raise our sons properly."
"Like Hell I will!" Butter Brickle Alpha said as he drew his pistols and started shooting. The Cobalt Claymore's jaw dropped as the pony Gunslinger-lookalike yanked the youngest colt away from his mother. Dramatic music welled up as the ninja pony and one of her children ran through a shadowy portal in slow motion and as the leader of Happy Pony Rainbow Squad was stabbed and cut repeatedly by the faceless horde of ninja ponies. Naturally, he won the day through judicious use of gunfire, as he usually did. At the end of the fight, one pony and his newly-foaled son stood victorious amid a pile of dead ninja ponies and the dead and mortally-wounded members of Happy Pony Rainbow Squad. Butter Brickle Alpha cantered urgently to the side of his second-in-command, Sun Drop 1-1-0.
"Did... did we win, BB?" the other pony Gunslinger gasped.
"She got away with one of our sons," Butter Brickle Alpha said. "I saved one, though."
"Damn... there goes our perfect record," Sun Drop 1-1-0 said. Then he fell silent and his adorable black pony eyes glazed over.
"NOOOOOOOO!" the last pony standing neighed in grief and rage.
The Cobalt Claymore sat and fumed. Someone was making a mockery of his parents' lives. His mother was around to react appropriately for herself, but the insult to his father wouldn't stand. He grabbed his laptop and started typing out an email. The teaser for the next episode appeared with a cowled pony brooding on the ledge of a skyscraper.
"Butter Brickle Alpha is no more," the pony said. "From here on out, the Cobalt Cavalier shall spread justice, friendship and righteous butt-kickings throughout Gloomy Gulch!"
In a nice houseboat docked near the Founders Falls campus of Paragon City University, a litany of swearing occurred, and occurred loudly.
Back Yard Boom - Emo Catgirl - Cobalt Claymore - Hephaestus 1
Avatar by Scarf_Girl!
(And now for a word from our sponsors.)
*The camera fades in on Hephaestus 1 as he's throwing a Skull through the doorway of the local PPD precinct house.*
Narrator: Hephaestus 1! You've made your 10,000th arrest in Kings Row this week! How are you going to celebrate?
*Hephaestus 1 turns to face the viewer and holds up a familiar can.*
Hephaestus 1: By picking up a can of Red Beast INTENSITY energy drink! From the ground!
*The scene shifts to Heph sitting in a late-Victorian study, where he's seated in an overstuffed chair wearing a smoking jacket and a beautiful supermodel sits on his lap.*
Hephaestus 1: Red Beast INTENSITY is the kind of drink that makes people want to know you, right anonymous supermodel?
*The supermodel begins to speak but is interrupted by Heph.*
Hephaestus 1: That's right, Red Beast INTENSITY is just that kind of energy drink! But don't take my word for it just because I'm sitting in a well-appointed study with a beautiful woman on my lap!
*Heph stands up, dumping the supermodel to the ground as she yelps in surprise. Heph takes a step forward and the scene cuts to Heph walking through a laboratory in a white lab coat. The lab has a large banner on the back wall that reads "IMPORTANT DRINK SCIENCE."*
Hephaestus 1: Take my word for it because I'm wearing a lab coat and walking through a room full of men and women who wear lab coats, all of whom use words like "maltrodextromorphithan" and "hydrazine" and "urea straining methodologies." But most of all they use words like "science."
Lab full of Scientists, all of whom sound bored and detached: "Science. Yes."
*As Hephaestus 1 walks through the lab, he grabs another ice-cold can of Red Beast INTENSITY from a very scientific-looking test stand, accidentally clotheslining the technician who was running the test.*
Hephaestus 1: It's the awesomeness of science that makes Red Beast INTENSITY the one energy drink that makes you say "Wow! Who -is- that sexy-looking cyborg in a lab coat?"
*He stops, pops open the can and hands it to a nearby clown who stands under the banner "TEST CLOWN." The clown drinks it then crushes the can on his forehead.*
Test Clown: Honk honk! This can fails!
Hephaestus 1: Oh, really?
*The clown immediately bursts into flame.*
Test Clown: It passes! It passes! Somebody put me out!
*Heph turns back to the camera.*
Hephaestus 1: And Red Beast INTENSITY still has that great clown-combusting flavor that no one in their right mind would ever sample. Like the tag line says, "Clowns Can't Hang, Yo."
Test Clown: Floppy shoes, charring! Squeaky nose... melting! OH, THE HUMANITY!
*Heph looks over at the burning clown and nods.*
Hephaestus 1: Indeed, clowns can't hang. Indeed.
*The scene shifts to a can of Red Beast INTENSITY on top of a table, with Heph trying to extinguish the clown in the background.*
Narrator: New Red Beast INTENSITY! Go ahead and drink it! Science says it's okay now!
Back Yard Boom - Emo Catgirl - Cobalt Claymore - Hephaestus 1
Avatar by Scarf_Girl!
The Cobalt Claymore and Mother Aoi sat at a low table, a still-steaming pot of green tea and two small earthenware cups placed between them. The young hero thanked his kimono-clad servant and waved him away.
"That will be all for now, Hida. So, if I agree to taking over the family, Mother, what kind of authority do I have?"
"Well, Todd, the pacts with the Oni and with Shadow state that among the families within our organization, your word is law."
"That's just asking for abuse."
"A leader who abuses his power isn't a leader for very long."
"True, but my word will be law in this case. What limits do I have, then?"
"Anything that causes a breach of the pacts is your limit. Other than that, you will have free rein to use your forces as you see fit."
"I'll need to review them, then."
"Yes."
"I'll also need to determine the strengths and weaknesses of each man and woman under my command."
"Don't forget the children. Their training begins at an early age."
"Right. So... I get to tell people what to do, huh?"
"Yes."
"Any contracted missions, right? How about missions I initiate myself?"
"You'll have the authority to do that... just what are you getting at? And why are you smiling, son?"
"You're in rather good shape for a woman your age, Mother. Have you ever thought of getting married again?"
"No. I have not."
"Perhaps you should start thinking about it. The future belongs to those who show up, after all. I think a few brothers and/or sisters would be a good addition to the family."
The Cobalt Claymore smiled wickedly, just like his mother, and took a few sips of tea.
Back Yard Boom - Emo Catgirl - Cobalt Claymore - Hephaestus 1
Avatar by Scarf_Girl!
*We see two robots riding horses through a field of flowers*
Robot 1: "Query: Does Creator-Unit-1-Beta have operating cycles where Creator-Unit-1-Beta feels... gritty?"
Robot 2: "Affirmative. Suggest Update-Model-Unit-5 use new Ultraslik Graphite Lubricant Gel. Ultraslik reduces wear on parts by 35% over regular lubricants and maintains its properties down to -30 degrees Celsius, which is more than appropriate for this climate. Also, Ultraslik does not attract particulate matter like the leading lubricant, so there's no gritty sensation to upset one's sensors."
Robot 1: "Ultraslik Graphite Lubricant Gel. I shall purchase some and use it tonight as part of my daily maintenance routine. Thank you for the suggestion."
*Hephaestus 1 appears on the screen as the robots ride away.*
Heph: "Let's face it, Mecha-Americans, there are days when you'll get that little bit of sand stuck in a finger joint and it just drives you up the wall! Take a tip from those two robots, though, and try Ultraslik! I use it between any moving surfaces that will be exposed to dust, sand, salt spray and more. Try it at your next interim maintenance and feel the difference!"
*Ultraslik Graphite Lubricant Gel. Because Robots Don't Like to Feel Gritty.*
Back Yard Boom - Emo Catgirl - Cobalt Claymore - Hephaestus 1
Avatar by Scarf_Girl!