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The Hooded Hood says beware the quiet ones
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killer shrike

Subj: The Moderator Saga #12: Acting On a Hunch
Posted: Wed Jan 23, 2008 at 07:36:06 pm EST
Reply Subj: The Moderator Saga Part Eleven: The Moderator Strikes Back!
Posted: Wed Jan 23, 2008 at 12:27:57 pm EST

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The Moderator Saga Part Eleven: The Moderator Strikes Back!



“At last! A real challenge comes to the fore!” the leader of the New Lair Legion exhorted to his team, “Now we will prove ourselves as the rightful masters of the planet!”

“Prove to who?” the Scarlet Lawnmower asked.

/Whom/ Sig, the Spectacular Simulacrum twisted his nipple knobs to etch the corrected grammar across his blank face.

“I think Moderator is referring to the Hooded Hood,” Search Engineer guessed, “You really have to stop obsessing over that preening schmoe, boss. ”

Link agreed, “It’s getting creepy. And after all the attention I’ve been getting from that swaybacked butler, I know creepy.”

/We should be sending Flapjack to the Negativity Zone, to spare Miss Link from his advances./

“I don’t need you to protect me, Sigmund!” the young woman shot back with surprising pique.

“Uh-oh: trouble in paradise,” Lawnmower snickered, the cloud of psychic blades that orbited him shuddering in reflex.

The Moderator slammed a gloved fist onto the meeting table, “Stop! This insipid quibbling may have been a standard of the ‘Old’ Lair Legion, but that is not us. We are the next step in superhero evolution, and will comport ourselves as such."

“OK, so what do you want us to do?” Link asked quietly.

“You and Sig are to brief the support staff about the updates to Plan 42. I also want you to press Mouse about the status of AL 36-24-36. It should have been operational by now, see why she’s dragging her feet,” the Moderator told Link before turning to the Scarlet Lawnmower, “Now that we’ve outed CalmSereneFlunkyBoy! as a Space Fandom to the press that allows us the cover necessary to go after his family. Take a SPAM detail and arrest Meg Hastings , Blake, and especially that Apple woman.”

The red-headed Legionnaire smiled, “Going to draw that putz out of hiding?”

“Oh, I know where he is. Search Engineer, remember?” the villain tapped his cap, “Moderator and me are on our way to visit him now. “

“Indeed, after we pick up an old friend of Foxglove’s so they may get…. reacquainted.”


*****



The derelict Seedytown building CSFB! and Killer Shrike used to meet in was in poor structural shape, a condition made much worse when The Moderator willed away its support beams and planks. Three stories of dry wall, linoleum, wrought iron stairs, and copper plumbing came crashing down on both men’s heads before they could react.

With a wave of his hand he dispersed the clouds of dust that roiled out from the implosion. He wanted the cameras to have a clear view of this; the end of the first serious challenge to his rule.

There was the sound of sheet rock cracking as a glowing figure of green and yellow pulled himself out, “Moderator!” the former Champion of Chaos said through gritted teeth, “So you’ve finally come out your hole!?”

“It is the sworn duty of the Lair Legion to confront evil everywhere it appears, Space Fandom. I will not allow you to infect my city with your madness.”

CSFB!’s reply came in the form of two handfuls of combat candy, pulled and hurled from the negative space in his Black Hole Backpack.

The Moderator deleted the incoming projectiles, and then the backpack. He tried to delete his enemy’s suit of Impossibilityium as well, but not surprisingly failed.

The Day-Glo Dervish launched thick coils of Silly String at Moderator. These held him just for a moment before they too were willed away, but that gave Dream the chance to pounce onto the man in the face mask and fedora and slam him to the ground.

“I’m going to string you up like a black and purple Piñata and let every kid in the neighborhood take a whack at you, Moddy,” CSFB! vowed as he unspooled his Wowie-Zowie Yo Yo and twisted it into a hangman’s noose.

“You think?” The Moderator asked, and even if his features were hidden behind his cowl, it was clear he was unimpressed.

There was a rush of air from behind Dream, and suddenly he felt someone’s presence. Before he could turn a powerful hand clamped down on his head and yanked him bodily off The Moderator. With the speed of a whip crack CSFB was brought down forcefully into the pavement. Again and again and again. All in under a second.

Dream was hauled up and his head swiveled to face his attacker. He was a big man in black leather and latex. His own cowl was unzipped so CSFB could see his iron blue eyes and arrogant sneer.

“Dominator!” was all Dream was able to say before the Strong as Tempered Steel Sadist hammered him in the mid-section with a shot to the solar plexus. Once he crumpled to the ground he was hit again, this time by the tip of Dominator’s thigh high boot. CSFB skidded several blocks before stopping.

“Orders?” Dominator asked as he helped the leader of the New Lair Legion to his feet.

“I liked his Piñata analogy from earlier,” Moderator picked up his fedora and tried to fix the brim, “Bust the twerp open and see what comes out.”

“And I’ll get to spend some time consoling that wonderfully well-padded ex-wife of his,” the Perverted Powerhouse stated, licking his fingers before slapping his own backside, “Mmmmm.”

With a leap the Dominator headed after the target, one he expected would bring him much pleasure.

Moderator ordered the camera men to follow the melee, then joined Search Engineer who was using his brakeman’s switch to pry his way through the rubble, intent of uncovering… something.

“Take a look at this,” he told his master, “It must be why CSFB was here in the first place.”

Laying unconscious under the remains of the building’s third floor bathroom, pinned between a clawfoot tub and several yards of metal pipe, was a big man in an armored bird suit and a top-knot.

“Killer Shrike?” The Moderator asked incredulously, “He’s working against me?”

“Yup. It appears the conspiracy may be bigger than we thought.”

“A shame,” Moderator willed away the wreckage that pinned Shrike, then disappeared his costume for good measure. His next gesture was to the waiting SPAM Control agents, who moved in and put the Butcher Bird in newer, more familiar restraints.

“Whu- whu’s goin’ on?” Simon Maddicks mumbled as he was shoved into his straight jacket. Then he saw who captured him, “Oh, @#$!”

The Moderator nodded, “A very accurate assessment, Shrike. Very accurate.”


To Be Continued!


The Moderator Saga #12: Acting On a Hunch

Previously:
The Moderator Saga #1 by Hatman
The Moderator Saga #2: Minions for the Moderator by Killer Shrike
The Moderator Saga #3: Captured is the Carpathian! by the Hooded Hood
The Moderator Saga #4: Interview With the Archvillain by the Hooded Hood
The Moderator Saga #5: Lord and Master of All He Surveyed by various posters
The Moderator Saga #6: Mouse and Ming by Hatman
The Moderator Saga, oh let’s say #7 by Killer Shrike
The Moderator Saga #8: One More Day by CrazySugarFreakBoy!
The Moderator Saga #9: Let’s Be Bad Guys by CrazySugarFreakBoy!
The Moderator Saga #10: With his Hands Tied Behind His Back by the Hooded Hood
The Moderator Saga #11: The Moderator Strikes Back by Killer Shrike

**


    Ã¢â‚¬Å“Don’t move and you won’t get hurt.”

    Functionary looked down at the implement pointed at his chest. “That’s a spoon,” he noted.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“A well placed spoon can do a lot of damage,” warned Flapjack of the Carpathians. “Don’t make me demonstrate.”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“You’re the prisoner,” Functionary recognised. “You’re supposed to be chained up in maximum security.”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“Yeah. I escaped. I’m spooned and dangerous.”

    Functionary wondered if he could edge towards the alarm button, but of course the Moderator and the Legion operations team were all out taking down CrazySugarFreakBoy! “I can’t be held hostage right now,” the possibly-fake flunky objected. “The Moderator will be back soon, and after a mission he likes to review the news footage of himself in slow motion. I have to set up the TIVOs.”

    Flapjack nodded. “Yep, I do the same thing myself when Dancer goes into action. But right now I’m here to do you a favour.”

    Functionary didn’t look happy. “With… your spoon?”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“You wish. But I owe you a favour, from way back. You won’t remember it, of course. It was before the Moderator got retconned to rule the world. You were a different person then.”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“I was?” Functionary checked himself. “I knew I couldn’t always have been a lonely no-life loser.”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“Moving right on,” Flapjack replied, “time was that you were the leader of the Lair Legion. And when I needed a break you gave me a job as the Legion’s butler.”

    Functionary blinked. On the one hand it was a wonderful thought that once he’d been an important hero, leading the world’s greatest champions in their battle against evil. On the other hand, he’d allegedly hired this lurching pervert to work for the team. “Had I a history of mental illness?” he checked.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“Depends who you asked,” Flapjack answered honestly.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“What cool super-power did I have? Was it intangibility? I always fancied density control.”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“I can’t tell you,” the hunchbacked escapee told him. “The universe might explode if you knew. Let’s just say that a lot of people couldn’t believe the things you did.”

    Functionary sighed wistfully. “I wish I could believe you, but I don’t think I’m cut out to be anybody important. I’m just me.”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“You were a dad,” Flapjack told him. “You don’t remember Magweed and Griffin do you? Your kids?”

    Functionary went pale. “Kids? I had kids?”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“Yep. Cute little rug rats, sneaky as all get-out and fizzing with fun. I guess your Moderator must have deleted them when he got his reboot.”

    Functionary frowned. “I can’t have kids. Who was the mother?”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“That’s where it gets a bit complicated and multi-part,” admitted Flapjack. “Plus there’s all that hard-to-believe bit where you got to have sex. But I’m telling you straight, and here’s my favour to you, you once had two great children and they need you to fix things and get them back.”

    Functionary had no reason to believe the hunchback. No reason at all. And yet…

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“I… I wouldn’t want to let my kids down. If I had any. Which I don’t. But if I did…”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“That’s what I figured,” said Flapjack with a crooked-toothed grin. “Welcome to the team.”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“There’s a team now?”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“There will be,” Flapjack promised him. “Now take me to your Mouse.”

***


    Helen MacAllistair dropped her circuit board in surprise as Functionary knocked on the door and poked his head into her lab. “Hey, it’s only me,” he said.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“Sorry,” the nervous science nerd apologised, scrabbling for the components she’d spilled in her alarm. “Sorry. It’s just I had a visit from that Scarlet Lawnmower earlier and he scares me. And I’m working on this terrible deadline and if I don’t get my project finished for the Moderator then I’m terrified he’ll send Mister Reed back down here and…”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“It’s okay,” Functionary promised her. “You’re the smartest person I know. You’ll do fine.”

    Helen might have been comforted except just then a grotesque deformed face peered round the edge of the door at about Functionary’s waist height and leered, “Hello darling!”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“It’s still okay,” Functionary calmed the Mouse. “Whatever you might think looking at Flapjack. Well okay, technically he’s an escaped prisoner and we could get executed for not turning him in to the master right away but otherwise it’s fine. Really.”

    Helen swallowed hard. “This is some new definition of fine that you’re field-testing for the first time, right? Well my vote is that it’s not a version of fine I’m very comfortable with. It’s the sort of version of fine that gets me sliced to ribbons by the Lawnmower.”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“It’s tough being the smartest chick on the planet,” Flapjack told her. “But that’s why we need you, kiddo.”

    Helen backed off from the hunchback. “I’m not the smartest chick – I mean woman – on the planet,” she denied. “I - I think she is.” The mouse pointed to the operating table where she’d just finished stabilising Miss Framlicker’s bio-implants and adding the Yukitech that the Moderator had ordered.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“Whoa,” Flapjack gasped, recognising the Extraordinary Endeavour Enterprises administrator.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“Yes, it’s very impressive,” admitted the Mouse. “She’s got a partial-brain transplant from Dr Al B. Harper and some amazing recall functions that got harvested from Lee Bookman, all tied up with a bio-technic interface processor from this cyborg girl that the master scrapped a while back. She’s literally two geniuses stapled together.”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“Huh,” scorned Flapjack. “I meant ‘whoa she’s naked under that sheet’.”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“This is the project you’ve got to get working?” Functionary asked, baffled. “Some kind of hybrid brain thing?”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“She’s just what we need,” approved Flapjack. “If anyone can help us figure a way to take down the Moderator and snap things back to normal then it’s a Harper/Framlicker mind-meld.”

    The Mouse looked worried. “The technology’s not melding though. All her two hemispheres do is bicker with each other.” She followed Flapjack’s stare. “Her brain hemispheres,” she clarified.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“Yeah, that sounds about normal,” admitted the hunchback. “So we need to get her out of here then get her working then use her to find the Shoggoth and hook up with the resistance. Then we overthrow the Moderator and get things back to normal. Then maybe we thing about getting her some clothes.”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“How did I get roped into this?” Functionary fretted. “The Moderator will be pissed enough that I didn’t plump his seat cushion for the post-battle gloating. Now suddenly we’re kidnapping nude brain-trusts?”

    The Mouse blinked. “You’re… you’re standing up to him? To the master? You, Functionary?”

    The possibly-fake flunky swallowed hard. “Yes… I guess I am.”

    Helen MacAllistair stared around her lab, her prison. She thought about all the terrible things that might happen to her if she ran away. She thought about the terrible things she’d have to do if she stayed. “Then I’ll come with you,” she promised in a whisper. “Revolutionary.”

    Functionary considered that. “Revolutionary…” The name didn’t taste quite right. “Maybe Missionary? Reactionary? Dictionary?”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“It’ll come to you,” Flapjack told him. “Bring Hallie and let’s get out of here. There’s only so many rampaging egomaniac supervillains you can hold off with a spoon.”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“Hallie?” puzzled Helen MacAllistair.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“And bring the genius Frankenstein chick,” Flapjack called back to his companions as he prepared their escape route. “Don’t worry if there’s no time to bring the sheet.”

***


Continued…


Original concepts, characters, and situations copyright © 2008 reserved by Ian Watson. Other Parodyverse characters copyright © 2008 to their creators. The use of characters and situations reminiscent of other popular works do not constitute a challenge to the copyrights or trademarks of those works. The right of Ian Watson to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with the UK Copyright, Designs & Patents Act 1988. All rights reserved.





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