Previous Post The Baroness, Part 62a Changes Ramona padded softly into the Bean and Donut Coffee Bar around 10 am, looking around for a friendly face. She found it in Violet, the Part-Time Cat, who beckoned her over to a small table. “Thanks, Vi. Maybe you can explain all the strange stuff that’s going on.” “Strange? We’re both catgirls. We gave up strange years ago.” The waitress appeared and asked for their orders. “Nothing for me,“ mumbled Ramona with an embarrassed squeak. “No cash.” The waitress glared and turned to Violet, who smiled and said, “Two coffees, please. Do you want milk, Ramona?“ “Could I have cream, maybe?” Her long tongue rolled over her lips in anticipation. “Sure, honey,” the waitress replied with some disdain. “Should I bring you a saucer for it?” “No, no, in the coffee will be fine,” Ramona squeaked. The waitress plodded away and Ramona turned to her companion. “Vi, I don’t understand what’s been going on. I woke up this morning and went to my unpaid internship with Baroness Zemo, and then I woke up again and the Baroness was gone, the castle was closed down, and when I went back to my room the key didn’t work. And then I realized my tail was gone!” “Ramona, you never had a tail.” “I did. And my fur is going away. Look!” She stretched her right arm from the sleeve of her jacket. It was bare human flesh. “Lucky you,” snarked Violet. She was interrupted by the entrance of a tall, cadaverous man, dressed in a 1930’s gray suit and homburg straight out of the Sound of Music, who stalked over to the neighboring table and sat down as if he owned it. The waitress rushed over. “Baron Otto, good morning. What would you like?” “What do you mean, ‘what would I like?’ For seven and one-half years I haff been sitting at zis table every morning and ordering a coffee, black Wiener roast, and a Berliner jelly doughnut. At least you got here on time this morning. Perhaps in another seven years you vill end that stupid question. Now get me my coffee.” The waitress hurried away as Ramona stared at the Baron. He was not pleased. “You, girl. Haven’t you seen a culture critic before? Did I give your alternative performance art piece a bad review in the Daily Trombone?" The Baron’s coffee, with jelly doughnut, arrived before Ramona could answer. The Baron gave her a freezing stare to repel any further inquiries, and then sipped his coffee. “Aaagh, so hot!” “I thought you couldn’t be hurt. That un-alive thing,” Ramona observed. “A canard circulated by less scrupulous critics,” huffed the Baron. “I’m as alive as anyone here – more heartless perhaps – but we all suffer for our callings.” Ramona shook her head in disbelief. “You made everyone else suffer. In the mansion – the dunge – the what’s? I don’t remember.” “Woman, if you continue to harass me I will call the police and you can continue with your delusions at Herringcarp Asylum. Leave me in peace. I have a review of Gli Caphiani to write.” Ramona turned to Violet in almost a panic, but her friend was as disbelieving as the Baron. At that moment the waitress arrived with their coffees, ostentatiously slopping some of Ramona’s into the saucer as she set them down. She also set down a pair of cream-filled doughnuts by Ramona. “These must be for someone else. I didn’t order them. I . . . couldn’t.” “They’re yours, kid. That girl over there took pity on you and paid for them. Now eat up.” Ramona glanced over at the tall, blonde girl, dressed in a black leather jacket and black jeans, who responded with a surreptitious wave. “Ramona, can I have half of a doughnut?” Violet mewed. “Sure,” she replied, and realized her mouth was watering. The girl made no further move of recognition, so Ramona turned to her plate and took the first bite of crispy, silky, creamy doughnut with a feeling of bliss. After 20 minutes of small talk in which Ramona confirmed that Violet thought nothing was out of the ordinary this morning, Violet excused herself and headed for her job. Almost immediately the blonde girl made for Violet’s seat. “I recognize you,” Ramona bleated. “You’re the Featherstone girl that got the Baroness so crazy – or did that not happen either?” “I’m definitely Samantha Featherstone, and you’re still Ramona. But things got awfully changed this morning. How would you like to wake up and find out you have an evil step-grandmother?” “Huh?” ‘I started the morning in a cell in that torture house you call the mansion. There I was, minding my own business, hacking into the Baroness’s computers, and then some flunky comes in with my cell phone ringing with a call from Wilton Manor, my grandfather’s country place. Instead of Grandfather calling to advise me that the Lair Legion was about to extract me, the Baroness is on, criticizing me (she always does) for putting up at the old place instead of our pied-a-terre at the Parody Ritz-Carlton. How weird is that? And by the way, you weren’t there any more.” “No, I wasn’t. I mean, I was, but now I wasn’t. And the Baroness is your *grandmother*?” “Step-grandmother, only by marriage and never for real. But you seem to be confirming what I feared. There’s been a retcon, a big one.” “Retcon?” “A retrospective change in continuity. Something cosmic has changed history.” “So that means I’m not an unpaid intern any more. Maybe in this continuity I can get a job with my comparative literature degree?” “Stranger things can happen. But I need you now. The retcon takes over memories much slower if I’m with someone else who remembers the former past. We’re going to get to the bottom of this, and put things back the way they were.” “I sort of like things the way they are becoming. I may not have a job or a home, but I’m at least free of the Baroness.” “Oh, don’t worry. I’ll support us until we get things back to normal, and then Sir Mumphrey will give you a hand, I’m sure. And if not, I’ll try my guardians. Sir Guthrie always means well, and Lady Marigold has so many charitable projects going on that she’ll have something for you.” “Are you some kind of princess?” Ramona marveled. “Hardly. Sir Mumphrey Wilton, my grandfather, is a knight, a very grand one, but not a peer, and Sir Guthrie Featherstone, my uncle and guardian, is a judge. I’m just an ordinary person who wants to make sure justice is done and evil is thwarted.” “You only look about 15 years old.” “Very observant. I knew I was making a good decision teaming up with you. Do you have a driver’s license?” Ramona scrabbled through her purse and flipped her wallet open. “Yes, at least that still seems to be good.” “Super. Let’s rent a car and get going.” “Where are we going?” “Herringcarp Asylum. If there’s a retcon going on, it’s almost certain to be emanating from there. And besides, the Hooded Hood needs a talking to.” “Can we get lunch first?” Playing the parts of Baroness Elizabeth Zemo, her cosmopolitan great-uncle and her disoriented minion J. Jonah Jerkson VOICE OF THE PEOPLE Notes: Baron Otto briefly became a culture critic for the Daily Trombone in the JJJ-Dancer Parodiopolis Variety Theater Tie-In back in 2006; the HH retcon appears to have built on that. Sir Guthrie Featherstone and Lady Marjorie Featherstone are Samantha’s aunt and uncle and obtained custody after Cdr. Erskine Black’s vicious murders of her parents way back in Untold Tales. See “More Proceedings in the Chancery Division” for details of the custody battle. Sir Guthrie and Lady Marjorie are characters created by the late John Mortimer and are lovingly parodied here. No rights in those characters are claimed by me.

One's a well-read catgirl, down on her luck, the other is a teenage troublemaker with some powerful backup... when they met, it was murder. Bring it on!