Tales of the Parodyverse >> View Post
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Post By
Al B. Harper

In Reply To
Hatman

Subj: "I know what I have to do," Meng says to himself. *continued*
Posted: Fri Jan 11, 2008 at 09:07:00 pm EST (Viewed 5 times)
Reply Subj: "This would be easier if I could find the 6 'smarter' boy geniuses of the world," he was forced to admit to himself. He looked at the cover of "Timely" magazine that proclaimed his genius ranking and shook his fist. "I was robbed," he muttered as he resumed planning.
Posted: Fri Jan 11, 2008 at 06:55:46 pm EST (Viewed 544 times)




> > > The thunder rumbled ominously across a sepia sky as The Moderator schemed his evil scheme. Because the sky was sepia, everything else was reflected in shades of art-deco - Lair Legion Tower, the blimp in the sky, the car the Moderator was driving. Even the Moderator himself, in his familiar black suit and fedora hat with purple band, suited the scene.
> > >
> > > "Now...it is time," he calmly stated to himself.
> > >
> > > He parked his car and exited to stand outside Lair Legion Tower on Parodiopolis Main Street, all awash in marshmallow and pistachio.
> > >
> > > "Evening, Mr. Moderator Sir" said Jay Boaz, better known to the public as DoorMan, as he hurried to open the Tower's glass entry for the most important man in this Parodyverse.
> > >
> > > "It is as I willed it," The Moderator agreed, before casting a critical eye about the assorted riff raff that waited in the crowded lobby, no doubt waiting for him. No doubt wanting something, "Where is Functionary?" he demanded the status of his possibly synthetic steward.
> > >
> > > CalmSereneFlunkeyBoy... dutifully responded to his master in a dull monotone. "He sends his apologies, my lord, but his ward has yet again frozen him to a signpost. We are currently trying to free the canines who had the misfortune of licking him and found their tongues trapped."
> > >
> > > "Release the fire-breathing grizzlies to thaw them out!" the Moderator ordered his Halcyon Henchman, "And then bring Functionary to the throne room; burned or freezerburned, it is of no consequence to me!"
> > >
> > > The Moderator kept the populace of this Earth pacified with his henchmen, Content Filter, who censored dissent in the news media, and LOL INTERNET, who produced mind-numbing, distracting entertainment. Dissent was by definition evil, of course, since The Moderator was the savior of all mankind and therefore loved by every right thinking individual. Mind-numbing, distracting entertainment was perhaps an evil as well, but rather on the scale of the useful, lesser evils... one that could easily be overlooked for the greater good, much like bingo night down at Holy Mercy. It turned out that running a peaceful world required the careful coordination of many lesser but useful evils, which is where Functionary came in... Literally and figuratively.
> > >
> > > "Er..." A dripping man in a green coat interrupted carefully. "I'm here! There's no need, sir... for the grizzlies, I mean. At least in this instance. I'm sure there's some very good reasons for fire-breathing grizzlies in general." He assured the room. "I can't think why God or geneticists never thought to make them before. Honest."
> > >
> > > "Well, Zhe Doctor zhat created me, she had some plans..." a three foot tall, talking, bipedal pig chimed in from behind the Functionary's dripping coat with a noticably French accent. "Although in zhe testing phase, eet did not go quite as planned... Eet turned out zhe fire did not come so much with their breath as, how you say, with their..."
> > >
> > > "Not now, Brap" Functionary hissed nervously. "A-heh. Um... you wanted to see me? Sir?"
> > >
> > > "Hardly" The Moderator noted icily. "What are these citizens doing cluttering up the lobby?"
> > >
> > > "Oh, right... Um... I know this one..." Functionary assured. "This is Mr. Mac Fleetwood. He and these others are residents of Hell's Bathroom, specifically the neighborhood that was, um... kind of trashed... in last week's fight between the Lair Legion and the Yurt."
> > >
> > > "Don't you mean "demolished as part of a long-planned Urban Renewal Project"..." the leader of the Lair Legion suggested dangerously. "Or can't you even be bothered to watch the broadcasts you oversee?"
> > >
> > > "We don't need your propaganda to tell us what happens in our own neighborhood!" Mr. Fleetwood pointed out.
> > >
> > > "Er... well..." Functionary explained. "They do kind of have a point, though... don't they? I mean, the Yurt is pretty hard to miss, and not the kind of thing you forget. And the Legion *did* kind of defeat him by dropping much of Hell's Bathroom on his head, one structure at a time..."
> > >
> > > "Fight buildings with buildings, I always say!" Scarlet Lawnmower snickered from his place leaning against the doors of the glass elevator that led to the Lair Levels of the Tower. "Anyway, we saved their lives... What do they want us to do about it now?"
> > >
> > > "Pay for damages!" a voice in the crowd yelled. "Help us rebuild!" another chimed in.
> > >
> > > "These people were left homeless..." Mac argued. "The city's shelters are already overfilled. There's no place for many to go..."
> > >
> > > "I can tell 'em where to go" Lawnmower suggested.
> > >
> > > "Well, now... hold on..." Functionary said.
> > >
> > > "We have videotape of what really happened!" Mr. Fleetwood argued. "And we'll take it to the real press if you won't help us. You have responsibilities!"
> > >
> > > "Indeed" The Moderator said. "And Great Power. Which means you no longer have any videotape." He waved his hands and suddenly the angry crowd vanished completely from the lobby. "Thank you for making sure this matter came to my attention, Functionary. There are only two types of people who get jobs like yours, you know... the ambitious and the incompetent. I knew I chose just the right type."
> > >
> > > "You... you did just send them home, right?" Functionary asked. "I mean... naturally without the video tape. And, um... without homes... but you did just send them somewhere..."
> > >
> > > "You should be proud... it's an important job, making sure the Legion isn't distracted by the little things" The Moderator assured him as he, Scarlet Lawnmower and the other true Legionnaires entered the elevator. "It's how the rest of the team is able to do great things" he added before the doors closed and the group ascended.
> > >
> > > Functionary exchanged worried glances with DoorMan.
> > >
> > > "You know, eet wasn't so much zhat zhe grizzlies themselves were bad" Brap explained absently. "I just wish zhe doctor had invested in zhe flame-retardant pooper-scooper zhat I requested..."
> > >
> > >
> > > --------------------------------------------------------------------------------
> > >
> > >
> > > And The Moderator was pleased, for all was as it should be....save for one small apartment in the suburbs of Upper Wuthering Heights, GMY, where a small boy turned off his computer and said “Cor blimey, something odd is ‘appening!”


He is Salieri Meng, seventh smartest boy genius in the Parodyverse, and he knows what the Lair Legion has done with his hero. Now Meng must come up with a plan to rescue him: to save the Manga Shoggoth.

"This would be easier if I could find the 6 'smarter' boy geniuses of the world," he was forced to admit to himself. He looked at the cover of "Timely" magazine that proclaimed his genius ranking and shook his fist. "I was robbed," he muttered as he resumed planning.




"I know what I have to do," Meng says to himself. He throws a warn duffle-bag onto his bed, and hunts around his room for various items which he places in the bag – a torch, a small pick, a length of rope, a small compact keyboard with a usb port that he refers to as his “datajack”, a whistle, and a jar of sticky black liquid.

“Right, all set.” He looks like an urban commando, black cargo-pants billowing out but tied in close at the feet like a Japanese carpenter would wear, a bulky black jacket that is somewhat reminiscent of a straight-jacket with its belts and ties and seems to also have numerous pockets.

His hair is jet black, and flops over half his face, almost Emo, except he has not bothered to style it, he is beyond Emo.

“Now, the first challenge,” he gulps as he grabs the duffle-bag and cautiously opens the bedroom door.

“Salieri,” comes the whimsical sing-song voice of a woman somewhere else in the home. “Dinner is ready!”

“I just have to sneak past Mum,” he says to himself.

*continued*







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