Hatman looked up sharply from his desk as the door to his office was kicked open. Standing in the doorway was a man dressed in all black; a loose fitting black jacket with black pants and boots, with a large black fedora on his head. He wore a purple mask that covered his entire head, and the only other splash of colour on the outfit at all was the purple band encircling the hat on his head.

"I am here to relieve you of your command, Hatman!" crowed the intruder. "Only I can lead the Lair Legion in this brave new world after the Parody War!"

"Now hold on a minute-!" Hatman began to protest and rise from his chair when the arms of his chair suddenly began to move and bound his arms. He struggled to free himself but found he couldn't move.

"It is useless to struggle," advised the black clad man. With a wave of his hand Hatman's desk disappeared in a blink, a small "pop" sound filling the void. "I control reality itself!"

"Oh yeah? Well, in that case, when you bring my desk back, can you leave the paperwork behind?" Hatman cracked. "It was giving me a headache."

"Who said anything about bringing it back? It is gone forever, much like you soon will be! So swears...the Moderator!" crowed Hatman's captor triumphantly.

"Well, if you're going to be leader of the Lair Legion, you're going to need a desk. And between you and me, after all the damages to the Mansion in the Parody War, it really isn't in the budget to get a new one," Hatman advised.

"The Lair Legion will be a force to be reckoned with, a force that will answer to no one but the Moderator! I will not be bothered with such trivialities!" proclaimed the intruder.

"Well," Hatman eased back in his chair and crossed his right leg over his left, "it sure makes things easier. You have no idea how much the government appreciates that we even make the effort to file reports and work within the system. Jarvis always told them to get the information they needed themselves."

"It matters not! I will obliterate anyone that stands in my way!"

"That could work," conceded Hatman, "but then you don't get the perks."

"Perks?" The Moderator was confused. "What kind of perks?"

"You see that shield on the wall there," Hatman indicated with his head where he was looking. He pointed out an intricate red, gold, and yellow shield, encrusted with a diamond-shaped yellow crest in the middle. "Gift from the Queen of England when I was knighted."

"Trophies matter not! Only safeguarding the earth matters!" proclaimed the Moderator.

"Wow, you shout a lot," Hatman pointed out. "Anyway, check out the picture in the frame next to the shield."

The Moderator turned his back on Hatman while looking at the picture. It looked to be little more than a colourful, crayon-fueled scribble. If he looked closely the Moderator supposed it looked like Hatman. "What is this that it should impress me so?"

A sharp "crack" alerted the Moderator to a problem behind him. Hatman had craned his neck sharply to contact the chair with his head, and he had become one with the chair, and while he did so he broke the arms to the chair and freed himself. Hatman launched himself at the Moderator and punched him in the jaw.

"That picture is from a 4 year old girl that I saved from Anvil Man once. And to be honest, I value it a lot more than that shield there. We're here to not only protect the people, but to work with them!" Hatman punched the Moderator again. "I will not let you pervert the Lair Legion's mission into some bloodlust vengeance kick!"

The Moderator scrambled back and waved his hand. "Let's see how tough you are without your Hatility Belt!" he crowed.

Nothing happened.

"Blast!" cried the Moderator. "I wish my powers worked on people!"

"You want to see how tough I am without the belt? Fine." Hatman undid the Hatility Belt and hung it on a hook behind where his desk had been. He reached up to his head where his black and blue Hatman cap rested, and turned it so it was backwards.

"Let's go."

The Moderator had the ability to erase objects from existence, but he could not create them. Hatman wasn't using any weapons, and his powers could not harm the Capped Crusader. It was over quickly.

Yuki and Mr. Epitome came charging into the room, having heard the ruckus from elsewhere in the Mansion. They found Hatman trussing up the unconscious Moderator.

"What happened here?" asked Mr. Epitome as he used his x-ray vision to sweep the Mansion for more intruders.

"He came to apply for a job." Hatman told him as he reaffixed his Hatility Belt around his waist. "I politely declined."

Yuki tossed the Moderator over her shoulder to take him to a holding cell until he could be transferred to the SAFE. "What're the charges when the cops get here?" she asked.

"Breaking and entering, vandalism, attempted murder," Hatman looked at what was left of his office. "And he owes me a desk."

END

~Hat~

The mystery of the Moderator will be THE event of the Prodyverse in 2008. People will live. People will die. Alliances will be forged and broken. And NOTHING will ever be the same.



What?

This does mean you're doing the next chapter of the Moderator Saga, right?

~Hat~

> The mystery of the Moderator will be THE event of the Prodyverse in 2008. People will live. People will die. Alliances will be forged and broken. And NOTHING will ever be the same.

Liu Xi would have found it amusing that the Moderator could manipulate reality. She'd call him an 'amateur'.

A question off topic: Did you get my e-mail?

They always do, don't they?

A nice Hatty vignette.

More?

Al B.

No I didn't, but my old e-mail doesn't work anymore. Resend it to capped.crusader at gmail.com

~Hat~

Well, the Moderator can wipe things from reality, but not really create them, much like a message board moderator can delete posts, but cannot create anything besides their own posts (I'm not counting banners and QORNs I guess).

~Hat~

Minions for the Moderator!!!





"So are you going to tell us how you got past our security systems?" Mr. Epitome, the Exemplary Man, loomed over the captive he had set up in the interrogation room, "You obviously didn't will them away, because they're still on line."

From his chair the Moderator cocked his head, "How very observant, cretin. Would only that you and your comrades also have the assiduousness to realize that is only through my command that the Lair Legion, and thus the Parodyverse, can be saved."

"Where have I heard that line before?" the team's deputy leader, CrazySugarFreakBoy! commented as he spun his Wowie-Zowie Yo Yo, "Oh, yeah, from The Hooded Hood, the Parody Master, Pierson's Porter, old Flag Britches over here...."

"Shut up," Dominic Clancy grunted before jamming a finger into the Moderator's chest, "You don't seem to realize how much trouble you're in. We have enough to put you away for a long time."

The man in the purple cowl and black fedora stifled a yawn, "Am I under arrest? If I'm under arrest I'd like to make a phone call."

After several moments of glaring into where he imagined the Moderator's eyes would be, the Paragon of Power flipped open his cellphone, "Tell me the number."



*****



The young woman in the green pastel bodysuit jumped when the phone on the command console began beeping. She put her videogame on pause and answered, "Yes?"

"Link: Plan B," was all the Moderator could say before the line went dead.

"Oh, fudge!" the girl rocketed from her chair and began fumbling to affix her domino mask, "Fudgefudgedoublefudge! Hey, Sig! The Moderator needs us!"

Sigmund the Superlative Simulacrum looked up from his bonsai garden. Using his ham-sized hands to twist the knobs on his chest, he wrote /Which plan?/ onto his flat, featureless face.

"Plan B," she replied, "You ready?"

After shaking his earlier query clear he wrote, /Yes. Wish me luck./

"Good luck," said Link, and she touched the giant, activating her power to teleport others anywhere she had never been to.

Then she started counting.



*****



Mr. Epitome had grabbed Moderator by the lapels and slammed him up against the wall, "Stupid move, scumbag."

"And why was that?" the man asked nonchalantly.

"Who were you calling, and what is Plan B?"

Moderator's voice became even more smug, "I'm not about to start doing your job for you, you hyper-aggressive neanderthal."

"Look, buddy, no one appreciates the old school hero/villain banter more than me, but if you don't tell us what we- Holy Kirby Dots!" CSFB! exclaimed.

There was a flash of light and a pop of onrushing air, and a golem-like creature appeared. It twisted the dials on its torso to write the word /"Yurt"/, on its face, and it instantly transformed into a perfect duplicate of the twenty foot tall radioactive peasant hut. With one sweep of its arms it knocked both heroes through eight walls of reinforced concrete.

"Fine work, Sig," Moderator willed his power restraints to vanish, "Liberating you from the Mad Tinkerer was time well spent."

The android shook itself bodily, returning to its original form. /What should we do about the Legion?/

"For the moment, nothing. I will delete our home phone number from Epitome's cellular phone, in addition to its presence in his own memory. After the trouble started with our visit I have no interest in giving them the opportunity to return the favor. Any future meetings will be done only on my terms."

The was a commotion outside the room as both Yuki Shiro and Hatman arrived to investigate the source of the melee. They found the Moderator and his assistant teleporting away.

"On my terms, Hatman," the villain repeated, and then he was gone.



*****



"Oh my gosh, we beat the Lair Legion!" Link said later, "I can't believe it! Nobody beats the Legion! Not the Scourge, not Proctology, not even the Purveyors of Freakin' Peril! But we did!"

Sig was enthused as well, /We're AWESOME!/

"High five!" the girl slapped hands with the oversized android.

"Such jubilation reveals your simplicities," the Moderator opined from his command chair, "My genius may have salvaged this opening gambit, but our overall goal is still not achieved. The Legion must follow me, worship me. Only then will victory be achieved."

"And how do you plan on doing that, uh, master?"

The Moderator mused for several moments, then commanded, "Search Engineer!"

There was the smell of soot and sulphur as the man with the soiled overalls and conductor's cap sauntered into view. He carried a rusted brakeman's switch in one gloved hand and a lantern in the other, "Yeah, boss?"

"I want you to use all of your powers, all of your skills, to learn the location of that which will allow me to break the Lair Legion. Find it, and I shall be unstoppable."

"OK," the Search Engineer waited for several beats, "Ahm, what is it?"

The Moderator rose dramatically and threw his shoulders back so his coat would unfurl, "I want.... the diaries of Ioldabaoth Winkleweald!!!"



To Be Continued, by anyone other than me, preferably

Gotta love your villains.

I do hope, no, implore our many talented writers to continue this please?


Al B.

Thanks



I hope you're including yourself in that plea.

Ok. Message is sent off.

.

Wow... a whole rogues gallery assembled around this guy. He's alreay approaching Proctor levels of villainy.... Only with a better name.

Looking forward to seeing them again!