The Moderator Saga Part Twenty Four: Birth (and Death?) of a Hero!

“What are these?” Functionary inquired as he dumped the contents of yet another crate onto the floor of the New Lair Legion’s storehouse, “Shoes?” He and the other staff members of the New Lair Legion had gone rogue and were scouring the site, looking for something, anything, that could help them defeat their former masters.

“Retractable high heeled shoes,” Flapjack clarified as he picked up to examine one of the flashier pumps, “Master Finny’s boldest, most brilliant concept, if you ask me.”

Mouse looked over from where she sat changing the dressing on her old college mate’s head wound, “Master Finny? Is he another of the Lair Legion of your world?”

“He was. Good guy, maybe not the smoothest character around the ladies, no matter what he said. That giant stuffed sea serpent back by the vending machines? That’s sort of looks like him,” the hunchback went to pocket the shoe, when he noticed something he hadn’t seen before, “Hey, that’s not one of my fleas.”

“Die, Quisling!” suddenly the mechanical parasite leapt out from the little man’s breeches, “Die for betraying the The Moderator, and your piss poor bathing habits!”

Functionary watched in horror as Killer Flea willed himself to the size of a sofa and smacked Flapjack a dozen yards across the warehouse, sending him crashing into a pile of Detonator Hippo footstools, “AHHHH!”

The possibly fake former flunkey’s cry of panic was joined by one of pain from Muffy.

“Wat izz it? What izz happening?” Brap rounded the corner in time to see the Framenstein begin to cough up large amounts of thick, black liquid, “Sacre Bleu!”

Mouse instinctively stepped back to avoid the deluge, but was watched in horror when the substance quickly spread and congealed itself over the shapely scientist(s). Soon she resembled nothing more than a dark shadow with a pair of white spots on her upper torso.

“Muffy?” Helen McAllister called, hoping something of her friend was still under the slick goo.

A slit appeared across the woman’s flat stomach, which quickly opened into a jagged maw from which a long, ropy tongue snaked out, “BRAINS!!” the Muffy/Al/Venom hybrid demanded as it leapt towards the rebels.

“Wunderful! Now zhe speaks!” Brap opined derisively as he backed away.

Functionary watched n horror as Killer Flea went to town on the swaybacked butler who served as their only true link to the world that existed before The Moderator took control. If he were to die the rest of them would be even more clueless on how to restore things to their natural order. The only other person who seemed to have an idea as to what was going on was the former CalmSereneFlunkyBoy, and Functionary wasn’t sure how much his recollection could be trusted. After all, the young man had said that he was a super villain in the “real world” as was Functionary. Which really didn’t seem like his style, no matter how frustrated he got sometimes with the growing cost and shrinking portions at the local pancake house. And since CSFB! was out attempting to team up with the other supposed rogue elements that were fighting The Moderator that left Functionary in an unfamiliar position: he had to try and save the day. Brandishing a crowbar high over his head, he charged Killer Flea, “Hey! Back off!”

The robotic insect didn’t even look up from where he had his opponent pinned. He merely swatted Functionary away with one of his hind legs and kept slicing into Flapjack, “It’s so good to finally be rid of you, you played out Marty Feldman wannabe! I’m going to suck you dry!”
“Ack! That’s- Ah! What-Argh! She-Oof! Said-Hurrggle!” the Carpathian managed to wheeze.

Functionary, meanwhile, was thrown across the warehouse, coming to a painful stop against the lint trap of Argy!le, the Evilest of Socks’, Giant Dryer of Doom.

“Oooh,” he moaned, clutching his head. He woozily rose, putting his hand on a stack of boxes to steady himself.

That was when he heard the call.

“Mortal! You are NEEDED!”

“Wait. What?” Functionary said aloud, wondering if booming voices and flashing yellow lights were symptoms of a concussion.

“Fear not, mortal. You are undamaged. We are merely communicating telepathically so that you may free me.”

“Free you? You’re… in the box?”

“Yes. But contact with your mind has revealed to me the truth: that despite the indifference of an unknowing world I am needed once more. Open the box, mortal, so I may meet my destiny!!”

Functionary thought for a moment, then began tearing away the cardboard flaps, “Well, this wouldn’t be the stupidest thing I’ve done today…” he muttered.

When he saw what was inside, however, he began to have doubts.

“Now, mortal, ASSUME ME!” the voice commanded.

“Erm…..”

“Do you wish to save your allies? If so, heed my words! Crown yourself with my presence. NOW!!”

*****

With a well placed hoof Brap was able to divert a lash from Muffy B. Venomlicker’s tongue. She hissed, but kept advancing.

“Zhere izz very leettle chance I will be able to subdue your friend, Mademoiselle McAllister,” the bipedal pig said between parries, “Zho if you have any suggestions….”

Mouse opened her mouth to speak, but was hit by one of the hybrid’s flexible arms. She fell to the ground.

“Muffy, please, listen! You have been infected by an alien symbiote! You have to resist it!” she scuttled backwards away from the creature’s advance, “Please, Muffy! I need you!”

The monster paused, its tendrils waving aimlessly, “B-B-BRAINS?” it mumbled.

“I know, Muffy, you’ve been hurt. People have taken advantage of you, but you have to stay strong,” Helen reached forward, gently touching her friend’s arm, “Don’t let them beat you.”

For several moments the alien amalgamation did not move. Then finally it roared and began to tear away at its midnight black skin. The globs of flesh scurried to reattach themselves, but their efforts were squelched by Brap’s hoof stomps.

The hybrid plunged an arm deep into its stomach, and pulled out a mechanical implant. With one last shriek it fell, the Venom symbiote roiling off in waves.

“Muffy!” Helen cradled her friend’s body, “You did it!”

“Oui. However, we are not out of zhe woods yet,” Brap pointed at the thing she had ripped from her torso, “Zhat is a bomm!”

To Be Continued, by me maybe, but if anyone else wants to take a whack at this feel free.

I don't know what was in the box. I know I should, and I'm going to kick myself, but I don't know. At first I thought it was Donar speaking through MjalcomTM but the crowning comment kind of nixed that one.

~Hat~

A nifty chapter, full of action as the horrors among them spring out and attack! I, too, am more than a bit stumped by what Vizh found, so you may be obligated to continue this one yourself.

The reference to Finny's combat stilettos was genius though.

Yeah, I kind of figured I'd wind up finishing this part. I shoul have writeen the whole thing up to the conclusion I was caught in a self-imposed deadline.


Not as genius as the original idea itself!

Its not a perfect match, but the contents of the box is related to one of the oldest gags in the PVB.

.

The Moderator Saga Part Twenty Four Continues: Birth (and Death?) of a Hero!


Killer Flea was at the part of his plan where he was to yank off Flapjack's head and shotgun the geyser of blood that would follow when there was a commotion behind him. A flash of light and the trumpeting of horns echoed through the warehouse. The size-shifting exsanguinator turned in time to catch a sandal to its thorax.

"Monster, you're spree of parasitism is over!" the man in the Babylonian skirt hefted the robot bodily and hurled him into the open Dryer of Doom. Once Killer Flea clanged inside the figure rushed to slam the hatch and lock it.

After making sure he had the correct number of limbs Flapjack sat up, "That wasn't nearly as much fun as I would have thought."

His rescuer heard the butler, and quickly rushed to his side, "Marduk's beard! You're alive?!"

"In a fashion," Flapjack examined one of his wounds with a probing finger.

"You look as though you have been chewed up and spit out by Tiamat herself!"

"You're one to talk," the Carpathian examined Functionary's new duds derisively, "Nice hat. You a Longhorns fan now?"

"I am the Neglected One. I have manifested at this moment in history to strike down the forces of tyranny that plague the world."

"Great. You might want to go check up on the others, since that French pig guy has been screaming 'A Bomm! A Bomm!' for the past minute."

Indeed, Brap seemed to be in full Clouseau mode, wandering about the warehouse in hopes of finding sturdy shelter. Helen Mcallister studied the explosive fretfully.

"I can't find any way to open it! How can a disarm it?"

Brap screamed from inside the hallowed out head of an Obliterator robot, "You can't! It izz a fail-zafe device zet to detonate zoon after detection. And it iz nucleair!"

"Zoon?" Mouse yelped, "How soon?"

Before Helen McCallister could get her answer a familiar man in a woven skirt and a cow-headed helmet floated into view. He carried what appeared to be the corpse of Flapjack, at least until the twisted butler raised his head enough to get a good look at Muffy's unconscious form.

"Naked," he said with some approval, "Finally!"

"Give me this 'bomm'," the Neglected One commanded.

"Functionary? Is that you?"

"Now's not the time to get reacquainted," Flapjack said, "Just do what he says."

Reluctantly, Mouse handed the explosive over to her old friend in his new wardrobe, "What are you going to do?"

"Cast this abomination into the dominion of Nergal!"

And with that, the Neglected One flew, through the roof of the warehouse, past the spires of the city, up past the cloud cover of the eastern seaboard, to the edge of earth's gravitational pull. His eyes scanning for the fiery red sphere that the god of war and death made his home. Finding his target, he cast his arm backwards, the bomb firmly in his grasp, ready to throw the devilish device to where it could do the least amount of damage.

Then there was the explosion, and things quickly became unclear.

To Be Continued

Well, you know that a Gilgamesh homage occurred to me, but I couldn't recall one that might have appeared before (at least, aside from Vizh's first stab at a costume), so I wasn't sure that was the answer. I briefly wondered if it was a mystical rhinoceros talking to Vizh (Func?) in the first part... but I wasn't sure I really fit the "Bloody Vizh" mold either.

Of course, I've never actually read a comic with Gilgamesh in it, so that might prove challenging to write... Assuming I didn't blow up with that bomb, that is.

Good stuff!