Thursday, November 24, 2005

Episode XXXIII

You All Everybody
You All Everybody!


“What is that?”

“Drive—”

“No, never mind, just shut it off. I can’t think with that racket. Give that to me.”

“But sir, I just stole this iPod from a Maco.”

“Phone.” The word was spoken in a flat tone that was nonetheless perfectly clear in its intent. The evil professor was tired of shocking his gang henchmen into obedience but he knew of no other way to train them to be useful subordinates. Until he, as Darth Onion, had come to the gangs and brought them together they had been nothing but a bunch of squabbling children, albeit children armed with deadly weapons and the knowledge to use them.

Diablo crumpled to the floor, a brief corona of blue sparks visible around his head. Pettigrew laughed as he remembered that the last time he had shocked Diablo, only the day before, the young gangster had been strangely proud when he thought that the sparks had been orange, reckoning his gang color a good sign.

Without a backward glance the professor walked out of his headquarters, an abandoned warehouse only a block from Union Station. He couldn’t go back to campus yet. Finals would be starting soon, but he had told Dennis he would be gone for several days and had left him in charge of putting together two of his tests. Initially Doctor Pettigrew hadn’t intended for Dennis to do anything more than grade a few papers and enter grades—but the assistant had proved to be far more useful. In fact, now that he knew Dennis to be a budding hero, Pettigrew intended to give him even more work than before so that he would be too busy to fight crime and interfere with Darth Onion’s nefarious plots.

Of course actually implementing any nefarious plots of any significance would require more and better manpower than what was currently available to the villain. All of the West-Side gangs were under his control, but several of the more powerful gangs remained free of his influence. Chief amongst these independent gangs were the Macos, supposedly led by one Crazy-Dae Dan. Having only heard about Crazy-Dae from his enemies Pettigrew knew nothing more than that he was Korean and ran the Macos out of the slums near the old mill.

“Crazy Day” he muttered under his breath, “what kind of idiot uses a stupid name like that?” It didn’t matter he swiftly decided, no matter the name he, Darth Onion, would find this upstart gang leader and phone him. The professor froze as the trash can next to him exploded in a spray of rotten fruit and dirty diapers.

With a grimace Pettigrew tried to wipe off his clothes and failed dismally, only managing to smear the garbage. For a fraction of a second he toyed with the idea of burning the garbage off with his special ability, but he really had no idea what would happen if he targeted himself.

Pettigrew started to turn around and head back to his warehouse when he realized that he couldn’t let his gang members see him like this. They would have no respect for a leader who looked so ridiculous, no matter how much he punished them—especially since he didn’t have any so dumb that he could afford to kill them as examples.

Theorizing that the easiest place to clean himself would be the Serpent River he altered his course towards Twenty-Fifth Street and the nearest bridge. The river wasn’t completely clean, but he figured that phoning it—he tried to dodge this spray of garbage and partially succeeded—would clean it enough.

Fifteen minutes later after several more garbage can explosions Pettigrew was convinced that he would never get his mind off of his power or find a way out of rubbish filled alleys. Fortunately his next turn brought the villain to Twenty-First Street. Unfortunately for the evil professor, however, this street was not as empty as the alleys had been. When the last legal business left Twenty-Fifth years earlier the Macos had moved in and taken full possession. Right at this moment an arc of six gang members stood at the end of the alley, clearly waiting for Darth Onion to emerge. Not willing to pass up the opportunity to confront independent gang members the villain pulled up his hood, placed his voice-distorting mask on his face and strode forward, doing his best to forget about the garbage that covered him.

* * *

With a sigh of relief a weary Pettigrew dived into a clean patch of water and washed himself clean of blood and refuse over the course of several refreshing minutes. The fight, if it could be called such, hadn’t lasted long, and thankfully, Pettigrew reflected, he’d only had to kill a couple before the rest fell into line. He’d sent them marching back to his headquarters, which reminded him that he needed to call Diablo and let him know about the new recruits.

Shaking himself like a dog the professor pulled himself out of the water and sat down on a rock next to his shoes and other pocket items. He picked up his cell phone and started dialing from memory, not wanting to bother to access his contact list. Unfortunately once it stopped ringing he realized that he’d made a mistake.

“Hello sir, what can I do for you?”

“Nothing in particular Dennis, I just wanted to check on our progress. Will you make sure to include a question about the Supreme Court confirmation process when assembling the multiple choice portion of the American Government exam.”

“I will be sure to include that Dr. Pettigrew.”

“Very good. That will be all.”

Abruptly the professor hung up, not wanting to deal with college life at the moment. Taking the time to use his phone’s contact list he correctly called Diablo and told him about the former Macos. That business taken care of the evil professor pulled his shoes on and started walking towards his headquarters, replacing his mask as he walked, taking care to lock the clips so that nobody else could remove it.

Minutes later the loud sounds of rap music began to assault his senses, but he just tried to ignore it. He quickly realized his mistake when he was jumped by four particularly large Macos. Wearily he raised his hand and said “phone.” To the villain’s complete surprise his power refused to manifest. Frantically he uttered the magic word several more times, but still nothing happened. Caught off guard as he was without his power Darth Onion was easily subdued by the Macos. Afterwards the only thing he could remember was a huge Korean man punching him and warning him to stay away from his turf.

A little old lady found him in a deserted alley where Crazy-Dae had dumped his body only a minute after he woke and managed to remove his battered but intact mask. Amazingly she recognized Pettigrew, having been his first grade teacher many years before. The old spinster, Amelia Winston, helped him back to her house and called an ambulance. She didn’t leave until she was sure that the emergency personnel would rush the professor to St. Luke’s Hospital.

* * *

Once he was released Pettigrew called for a press conference at Amelia Winston’s house. He thanked her for her help after his attack, the details of which he kept fuzzy so as to mask his identity and announced his candidacy for mayor. He promised an administration that would turn Mammoth City around by dealing directly with its most insidious problem—gang violence.

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Wednesday, November 16, 2005

Episode XXXII

Acidity was in a bad mood. He didn’t like being poked and prodded. He didn’t like the tank he was being kept in. It was heated and the acid was kept fresh, but it felt stale and artificial compared to the thermal pools at the resort, and it wasn’t big enough to swim around in. He also didn’t like never being let out of the tank. The fact that four of the scientists had acid burns on their hands and faces might have something to do with their reluctance to let him out, but they had brought the attacks on themselves. If they locked him up and treated him like an animal, how did they expect him to act?

Anyway, he didn’t want them to know how intelligent he was. He was careful not to talk to them or show any sign that he understood English. He needed to retain every advantage if he wanted to escape. Including the advantage of having two of them as his servants! That was a thrilling discovery. He had known when he injected them that it was something good, but it wasn’t until he had a chance to be alone with them later that he realized they would do anything he said, as long as he kept giving them new injections every couple of days. Already, they had kidnapped the woman who had caused his capture, and they would surely aid in his escape as soon as he could come up with a good plan. The only drawback to these minions was that the injection slowed them down both physically and mentally; they could be depended on to follow orders but not to think.

Once he escaped, the first order of business would be to deal with Marla Stewart. He hadn’t decided yet whether to kill her or inject her. Maybe he would inject her, order her around for a while, and then kill her later. He also wanted his things back from the hotel room, but had recently discovered that getting them might be impractical. When the scientists were collecting blood and tissue samples, they had taken him out of his tank for an extended period. They (and he) had realized that he continuously secreted acid from glands all over his body. On the one hand, this was useful for flinging acid in the faces of his captors, but on the other hand, it meant that most things he came in contact with were in danger of dissolving.

At any rate, he wouldn’t be able to do anything until his minions returned. This was the other reason he was in a bad mood: They were late. He had sent them to feed the prisoner, and they had been gone nearly two days. He wasn’t sure how long it would take for the injection to wear off, but they normally were begging for a fresh one after a day and a half. If they were gone too long, and it did wear off…in a sudden fit of rage, he hurled himself against the side of the tank. This accomplished nothing, but it hurt, so he forced himself to calm down. After brooding for another hour or so, he drifted off to sleep.

Acidity was awakened by the sound of violent coughing. He was disoriented at first, but quickly realized that the coughing was coming from one of his minions, who had finally returned. When the coughing subsided, the man stumbled across the lab and up to the tank. He doesn’t look drunk, Acidity thought. What’s wrong with him?

“Lord Acidity,” the man began before collapsing in another coughing fit. When he was able to stand again, he undid the latch on the tank lid, allowing his master to push it open and climb out while he coughed some more. “Please,” he gasped. “I need…an injection.” Acidity gave him one. The effect was almost immediate. The man stood up straight, stopped coughing, and aside from the glazed-over look in his eyes, appeared to be in much better health.

“Is that better?” Acidity asked.

“Yes, my lord. Thank you, my lord. The headache and dizziness are going away.”

“Good. I’m glad you are feeling better. Now, please tell me something. WHY ARE YOU LATE???”

“Please don’t be angry, my lord! I came back as soon as the police let me go!”

“Police? You let yourself be caught by the police?”

“I couldn’t help it, my lord! They pulled me out of the lake.”

Acidity took a deep breath and reminded himself that his minion was an idiot. “You were supposed to be feeding the prisoner! What did you do, decide to go for a swim?”

“No, my lord! She threw me in!”

Stay calm, Acidity thought to himself. Just keep asking questions. He won’t lie to you. “Who threw you in?”

“M-Marla Stewart, my lord.”

“WHAT?!?” Acidity punctuated this outburst with a violent hand gesture, which had the unfortunate effect of splashing acid on his minion, who began writhing on the floor when the corrosive liquid hit him. “Oh, quit whimpering and get up!” He ordered. The man stood up. “How did she manage to throw you in the lake? You are bigger than her, there were two of you, and you had a gun. Explain this to me.”

“I-I don’t know, my lord. She broke Ed’s hand and then she bent the gun barrel. And she picked me up and threw me like I didn’t weigh anything. She’s very strong, my lord.”

“Very strong.”

“Yes, my lord.”

“But you tied her up and drove her down there with no problems.”

“She didn’t fight us then.”

“She bent the gun barrel?”

“Yes, my lord.”

“With her bare hands?”

“Yes, my lord.”

“You saw this happen? With your eyes?”

“Yes, my lord.”

“Okay, I give up. Let’s pretend I believe your story for a minute. She fought you guys off, beat you up, and threw you in the lake. Then you swam to shore and got picked up by the police. What happened to Marla and Ed?”

“I don’t know, my lord. I was on the other side of the lake.”

“She threw you all the way across?”

“She threw me to the middle, my lord.”

There was a long pause. “Okay, what did you tell the police?”

“Nothing, my lord. They held me for questioning because they thought I was on drugs, and because someone saw me fly through the air and told them about it. But I told them nothing.”

“Did you go back to the cabin when they let you go?”

“There was no time, my lord. I was desperate for a new injection.”

“So it’s probably safe for me to assume that Marla has escaped and Ed is no longer my servant.” The man gave no reply, and Acidity didn’t expect one. He thought for a few minutes, then started talking to his minion just to put his thoughts in order. “If Marla is really as tough as you say, then she’s a big problem. Before I can deal with her, I’ll have to get out of here. I was waiting to escape until I could come up with a plan to make sure they don’t recapture me, but now I’m down one servant with no immediate prospects of getting any new ones, as long as I stay here. It’s now or never. I’ve got to leave tonight. What time is it?”

“About one-fifteen, my lord.”

“So we’ve got less than five hours. I need to go somewhere where they won’t find me. I can’t go back to the resort, because that’s the first place they’ll look. Where is the acid for this tank stored?”

“In canisters in the next room, my lord.”

“Good. We’ll take as many of those as will fit in your car. I’ll also need a disguise, so that I can check into a hotel. That will have to work until I can come up with a better location. I can’t go back to my home, because I don’t know if anyone’s made the connection between me and, um, me, and if they haven’t then I’m probably thought to be dead. I still wish I had a way to be sure they won’t come after me again. Why did they want me in the first place?”

“Grant money, my lord.” Acidity hadn’t been expecting an answer, and was pleasantly surprised to receive one.

“Grant money?”

“Yes, my lord. A research project like you could bring millions of dollars.”

“So who have they told about me?”

“No one yet, my lord. They wanted enough information to write a good introductory paper.”

“So they’re motivated by finances?”

“Mostly, my lord.”

“Hmm…How much do you think the equipment in this building is worth?”

“At least ten million dollars, my lord.”

“So they’d probably not like to lose it?”

“Definitely not, my lord.”

“Good. Maybe after we burn the building to the ground, they’ll think twice about messing with me again. Come on! We’ve got a lot of preparations to make and not much time.”

* * *

At 6:19 that morning, fire trucks arrived at D.S. Scientific Studies Lab in response to a 911 call made by a paperboy with a cell phone. By the time they got there, the building was mostly collapsed, and the remains were entirely engulfed in flame. Chemicals in the building made the fire difficult to control. When it was finally extinguished, analysis revealed that the fire was started by several explosions from various locations inside the building, and that the chemicals which were supposed to be stored in fire-retardant containers had been dumped out. Twelve lab employees were killed in the explosions, which occurred a few minutes after they arrived to work.

An hour or so earlier on the same morning, two men checked into a seedy hotel in the slums on the north side of Daze Springs. One of the men was wearing a biohazard suit. The woman who checked them in didn’t ask questions; that was a good way to get hurt in that part of town. After paying for a week in advance, the men hauled several large canisters into their room. They had no other luggage.

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Monday, November 07, 2005

Episode XXXI

By Yokanchi

Marla arrived home that evening. She decided not to say anything about what had happened -- always trying to stay undercover, or at least not in the lime light. If she were to say anything about that day the news would be crawling over her like ants on honey, and anyone who wanted to know where she was could find her quickly enough.

Well, she thought, The best thing to do is just act normal. So the next day she decided to go shopping. After all what better way to go unwind after a particularly stressful day of beating up evil monster-possessed people?

So she decided to...

Wait a minute... she thought to herself. She suddenly noticed the absence of the familiar presence of her grandmother's ring. Lifting her hand up to check, she discovered it missing.

Why those thieving... She grew angry again suddenly realizing that the kidnappers must have thought it had some amount of worth and stole it.

"Oh sure!" She commented to herself. They would think that I had something of theirs but didn't even give a thought about stealing a bit themselves. She violently slammed her hand down on the end table next to her bed smashing the supporting leg to splinters. Quickly she subdued her anger, remembering what happened last time she had a surge of anger like this one.

Am I going crazy or what? Those fumes must have effected my brain, she scolded herselfwhile getting ready for bed. After getting over her strange surge in anger the sudden rush of adrenaline was gone and she jumped into bed and turned out the lights, lapsing into a restful sleep immediately.

* * *

Marla woke to the sun streaming over her bed. She quickly looked over at her clock.

"11:21am" It flashed.

Wow! I must have really been wiped, she thought. Quickly she got dressed and decided to put on some jewelry. Nothing too flashy today. But maybe I'll just get a little fancy. She tried on a golden necklace she had been given from a very good friend. Suddenly she felt weaker. Immediately she lost her balance, her muscles went limp and she fell
to the floor hitting her head on the dresser on the way down.

* * *

Fifteen minutes later:

Suddenly she woke.

What am I doing here and why am I on the floor? She got up and sat on a nearby chair. Feeling her head she realized there was a large bump on it. Getting up to get some ice she wondered silently why she had suddenly collapsed. On her way to the kitchen she noticed her gold necklace lying on the floor, and made a mental note to herself to put that away later.

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Friday, November 04, 2005

The Next Episode

Hey, I just wanted to let y'all know (if we have any readers out there, ;-)) that we'll be updating soon, we hope. :-) Actually the episode has been written (a while ago) but we're waiting for the author to post it here. The plan has been to post an episode every Thursday but that hasn't always happened because we've been a bit late.

I've been thinking about some fan-fiction sites that I visit and I'm wondering if there is anything more that anybody would like to see. I'm trying to think of good filler content if there comes a week when we don't have an episode. So if any of y'all have ideas for what you'd like to see if this happens then please speak up! :-)

~Black Wolff