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Rhiannon

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The Hooded Hood says "Greetings to Rhiannon on your fourteenth natal anniversary and here is the present you requested."

Subj: More please, I don't like little slices.
Posted: Wed Jan 23, 2008 at 10:35:27 am EST
Reply Subj: #324: Untold Tales of the Lair Legion: Going Down - complete
Posted: Fri Jan 18, 2008 at 07:24:53 pm EST (Viewed 1 times)


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#324: Untold Tales of the Lair Legion: Going Down - First Two Parts
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> Go straight to the new bit for 23rd January
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> What has gone before: This story is the continuation from Untold Daily Tales of the Lair Legion versus [Spoiler Villain You Won’t Be Able to Guess].
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> For those too lazy to click the link there’s a summary blacked out below. Highlight it to read it:
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> Secret Service courier Francis Cornhill vanished while on camera alone in an elevator. He was carrying vital documents regarding the ongoing investigation into the mysterious Shadow Cabinet conspiracy. The Legion’s investigations led them to many other mysterious elevator-related incidents over the last couple of years. Hatman and CSFB! had a first-hand incident when their clothes and equipment vanished off their backs as they travelled in one such lift. Al B. and the Shoggoth’s attempts to replicate the strange phenomenon brought them a lift-carload of nuns, but not their habits. Now Yuki’s brain has similarly disappeared, leaving her cyborg body in automatic defence mode – about to kill the nearest possible assailant, who is unfortunately the Librarian.
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> Previous chapters at The Hooded Hood's Homepage of Doom.
> Descriptions of cast at Who's Who in the Parodyverse.
> Locations explained in Where's Where in the Parodyverse
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***

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>     The high speed elevator in the Eversure Mutual life Assurance Company Tower in Nebraska twisted in an unusual manner, then halted. A translucent gelid mass seeped in between the crack in the car door and through the ventilation ducts.
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>     Ã¢â‚¬Å“Greetings, mortal entities,” the Manga Shoggoth bade them cheerfully, his dripping biomass bubbling as he spoke. Globs of the loathsome elder being plopped onto the floor but quickly squirmed back to the primary biomass. “There is no need for rapid respiration or reptilian hind-brain fight or flee responses.”
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>     The thirty or so office workers in the lift began to scream and panic.
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>     Ã¢â‚¬Å“Nor is there need to jettison excess organic matter previously reserved for biochemical biological functions,” advised the Shoggoth. “People could slip on that.”
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>     A desperate woman flung herself at the elevator doors and bounced back, half-stunned.
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>     Ã¢â‚¬Å“You will be encouraged to know that I am now patrolling to ensure that no transient transdimensional effects or multi-planar entities affect your elevator travelling experience,” comforted the frothing mass of protoplasm. “In fact to aid your four-dimensional transmigration via this primitive mechanical cube I have made some improvements. When the doors open you will find that it has delivered you right to your home.”
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>     Ã¢â‚¬Å“Our home?” gibbered a senior accounts executive (claims and rejections). “Which home? We all live in different homes!”
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>     Ã¢â‚¬Å“I have thought of that,” the Shoggoth assured him. “I have managed to twist together the dimensions in each of your respective domiciles so that they are all now interlinked and coterminous. There is no need to thank me.”
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>     The lift doors opened. People screamed some more. The Shoggoth bleeped.
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>     Ã¢â‚¬Å“Excuse me,” he told the cowering office workers. “My colleagues in the Lair Legion are attempting to contact me via quaint little radio waves. That part of the electromagnetic spectrum always tastes a bit like pickled onions.”
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>     The people in the elevator fled from the goo-covered car into the Escheresque tangle of their homes.
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>     Ã¢â‚¬Å“I’m afraid I will have to go,” the Shoggoth called after them. “There is a Lair Emergency in a different elevator car.” He wracked his mind for the appropriate human nicety. “But may I say what lovely gardens you have in your bathrooms?”
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>     Then he shrunk himself down to a blob of matter the size of a thumbnail and shifted somewhere else.
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>
***

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>     Al B. Harper brought the LairJet down right on top of the Croque D’Or Casino and Hotel but Mr Epitome had already leaped from the moving aircraft and was heading downstairs before the vehicle had even shut come in to land.
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>     Ã¢â‚¬Å“Status?” he demanded over his comm-link to the Lair Legion’s artificial intelligence Hallie.
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>     Ã¢â‚¬Å“Three minutes since Yuki and Lee’s comm-cards somehow teleported from GMY to the new location. No response from either of them, although that could be a scrambling side-effect of the dimensional shift on the cards themselves.”
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>     Ã¢â‚¬Å“But definite energies like the ones we’ve been tracking in the elevator incidents,” Al added. “Get down there fast!”
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>     Mr Epitome ripped the roof security door off with one hand and hurtled down the service stairs. He didn’t bother with the thirteen flights of steps. Instead he just vaulted over the balcony and dropped.
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>     Ã¢â‚¬Å“Third elevator on your left,” Hallie advised him.
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>     Epitome seized the doors and tore them open.
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>     Yuki Shiro stared at him in astonishment, her eyes wide and slightly alarmed. “Well,” she said breathlessly, “after such a fall as this, I shall think nothing of tumbling down stairs! How brave they'll all think me at home! Why, I wouldn't say anything about it, even if I fell off the top of the house!”
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>     The paragon of power blinked and looked over at the Librarian. Lee Bookman was sitting on the floor massaging his neck. Livid bruises were already forming where the cyborg P.I. had previously gripped him.
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>     Ã¢â‚¬Å“We were attacked,” the Librarian reported. His voice was hoarse. “Our assailant lured us into an elevator and I believe he has teleported Yuki’s brain out of her body.”
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>     Ã¢â‚¬Å“I can’t explain myself, sir,” Yuki told Epitome, “because I’m not myself, you see.”
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>     Dominic Clancy turned his x-ray vision onto the cyborg Legionnaire. The heavy lead-laced shielding that protected the only organic portion of Yuki was now missing, as was the organ it protected.
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>     Ã¢â‚¬Å“Without an organic control, Yuki’s onboard computers executed their emergency defence program,” Lee went on. “Which appears to be throttle the nearest person. Typical of Yuki, really. Remind me to thank Harper for listening to her.”
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>     Yuki frowned in puzzlement. “I think I should understand that better, if I had it written down: but I can't quite follow it as you say it.”
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>     Ã¢â‚¬Å“She’s not trying to kill you now, though,” Epitome observed.
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>     Ã¢â‚¬Å“No,” agreed Lee. “I had to save myself, so I used my Librarian gifts to overwrite her emergency operating system with a volume I was temporarily storing in my mind.”
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>     Yuki looked from Lee to Dom. “But I don’t want to go amongst mad people!” she objected.
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>     Ã¢â‚¬Å“Lewis Carroll,” clarified the Librarian. “Right now she’s Alice.”
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>     Ã¢â‚¬Å“Alice?” frowned Epitome. “Alice in Wonderland?”
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>     Yuki looked up as she heard her name, then gave a little curtsey. “Dear, dear! How queer everything is to-day! And yesterday things went on just as usual. I wonder if I've been changed in the night? Let me think: was I the same when I got up this morning? I almost think I can remember feeling a little different. But if I'm not the same, the next question is, Who in the world am I?”
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>     Al B. Harper raced through the stairwell doors and skidded to a halt in front of the wrecked elevator. “Is everybody okay?” he demanded. “What’s happening?”
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>     Ã¢â‚¬Å“I'll try if I know all the things I used to know,” Yuki suggested earnestly. “Let me see: four times five is twelve, and four times six is thirteen, and four times seven is--oh dear! I shall never get to twenty at that rate! However, the Multiplication Table doesn't signify: let's try Geography. London is the capital of Paris, and Paris is the capital of Rome, and Rome--no, that's all wrong, I'm certain! I must have been changed for Mabel!”
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>     Ã¢â‚¬Å“There’s been another elevator incident,” sighed Mr Epitome, rubbing his temples. “Yuki’s been switched for Alice in Wonderland.”
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>     Ã¢â‚¬Å“It was that or the Marquis de Sade,” the Librarian defended himself. “Could things get any worse right now?”
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>     The Manga Shoggoth bubbled out of the walls. “What does ‘inferred liability damage suit’ mean?” he asked interestedly.
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>     Ã¢â‚¬Å“Curiouser and curioser,” said Yuki.
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***

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>     Ã¢â‚¬Å“Okay, remind we where we are again,” asked Hatman as he waded through the thick seeping mist, “and of why we shouldn’t burn Hagatha Darkness at the stake.”
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>     CrazySugarFreakBoy! was rather more used to mystical vision-quests so he wasn’t as spooked out by the psychic landscape. “We’re wandering an astral realm homing in on our missing gear,” he explained. “My Silly Suit and your Hatility Belt are both infused with our auras, so Haggie’s projecting our consciousnesses out of our bodies to find wherever our stuff is.”
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>     Dark shady shapes stirred in the fog. “And the not burning her part?” Jay Boaz swallowed.
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>     Ã¢â‚¬Å“Don’t worry, o glorious leader,” CSFB! grinned. “Sure, there are psychic predators around, but don’t forget I’m dragging along a huge amount of uncontrolled kinetic poltergeists as a side-effect of not having my gear to control my Impossibilitium-formed bod, so it’s good to give the little guys something to do.”
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>     Ã¢â‚¬Å“Ah well. Now I feel much better.”
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>     Ã¢â‚¬Å“Besides, it’s not far now. Can’t you feel the tug? Kind of like when your girlfriend…”
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>     Ã¢â‚¬Å“I sense we should go that way,!” Hatman interjected hastily. “In silence.”
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>     The capped crusader and the wired wonder pressed on through the fog, then emerged into a large underground chamber. The vaulted barrel roof was of old brick, the floor was covered with rotted rush matting. The huge room itself was packed high with all kinds of random articles, mostly junk but with a few expensive things abandoned amongst the detritus.
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>     Ã¢â‚¬Å“Is this a normal part of a vision quest?” wondered Hatman, peering at the old coke machine and the headless shop dummies piled around it.
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>     Ã¢â‚¬Å“The words ‘normal’ and ‘vision quest’ don’t usually go together in a sentence,” grinned CSFB!. “C’mon, there’s a light over there.”
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>     Ã¢â‚¬Å“And the sound of an elevator,” added Hatman. He reached down for a hat from his belt and discovered that he was vision-questing naked. He realised that Dream was unclad as well. “What is it about this adventure that keeps on sending us around nude?” he complained.
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>     Ã¢â‚¬Å“Astral forms and stuff,” shrugged CSFB! “But really, I think it’s the Parodyverse’s way of saying we need more women in the LL. Then they can get the nude gigs and everybody’s happy. I really miss Troia.”
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>     Jay Boaz determinedly turned his eyes on the distant light and pressed forward. He found a small partly-cleared area by one wall of the chamber, where a bank of ancient elevators opened beside a jumble of cluttered desks. A greasy-haired mulatto man in a string vest jumped up from his armchair in alarm, staring wildly at the intruders.
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>     Ã¢â‚¬Å“Who the hell are you?” the string-vested slob demanded.
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>     Ã¢â‚¬Å“We could ask the same of you,” replied CSFB! “And where’s our stuff?”
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>     Ã¢â‚¬Å“Burton Susenheimer,” recognised Hatman. “I’ve seen your file.”
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>     Ã¢â‚¬Å“Who the hell are you?” Susenheimer demanded again. “How did you get here? Why are you naked? And transparent?”
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>     Ã¢â‚¬Å“Hey, there’s our kit!” recognised CSFB!, leaping over hundreds of back issues of The Frontiersman and old TV guides towards the pile where his Silly Suit and Jay’s Hatility Belt were casually discarded under a rickety desk beneath a pile of nuns’ habits. “But damn, we’re intangible,” he added, finding he couldn’t pick anything up.
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>     Ã¢â‚¬Å“We’re the Lair Legion, Susenheimer,” Hatman warned the mutate. “We’re here to question you about the disappearance of Francis Cornhill.”
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>     The fat balding villain snorted derisively. “First off, I’m not Susenheimer now. Susenheimer died when the mutate-wipe event happened. I’m what was left behind, his consciousness imprinted on the machine he was manipulating at the time. I… am the Phantom Elevator!”
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>     Ã¢â‚¬Å“Really?” Jay asked sceptically. “You chose that name voluntarily?”
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>     Ã¢â‚¬Å“Um, Hatty,” worried Dream. “This metal container under my Silly Suit, it looks a lot like a brain compartment.”
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>     Ã¢â‚¬Å“Secondly,” went on the Phantom Elevator, “you’re rather too late to help Cornhill now. The contract was to deliver him and his briefcase up to some very serious people. I diverted his elevator car to theirs and they were waiting for him. When you hire the Phantom Elevator you’re hiring the best.”
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>     Ã¢â‚¬Å“And when I say brain compartment, I mean the brain compartment in Yuki’s cyborg body,” CSFB! persisted.
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>     Ã¢â‚¬Å“Oh yes, that was kind of funny,” the Phantom Elevator snickered. “But she’s no fun now I’ve got her. Just a kind of fancy paperweight. Perhaps I should have left the brain and taken the body? At least I could have had some fun with that.”
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>     Ã¢â‚¬Å“Yuki can’t live for long without her body’s life-support system,” Hatman said, his face darkening with rage. “Buddy, you’re going to stand down now, return the stuff you stole, and co-operate with us in finding the people who kidnapped Cornhill.”
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>     Ã¢â‚¬Å“Or what?” sneered Susenheimer. “You’ll ghost me to death? Right here in my own pocket reality, where I’m god?” He picked up a remote control from a pile beside a dismantled TV set. “I’ve worked out what you are now, some kind of minor psychic projection. Next time at least send nude ghost chicks.”
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>     Ã¢â‚¬Å“Next time we’re sending the whole Lair Legion to kick your ass,” promised CrazySugarFreakBoy!
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>     Ã¢â‚¬Å“Hmm, good luck with that,” mocked the Phantom Elevator. “Bearing in mind that I can control any elevator anywhere on the planet, shifting it from place to place, taking what I want from it, adding what I want to it. I could flay the flesh off every person riding an elevator. I could make them all appear in the same car, all at once, a half million people squashed intone tiny cube. I could do all kinds of nasty things. So maybe you losers should think again about messing with me.”
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>     Ã¢â‚¬Å“We’ll not only mess with you,” Hatman warned him. “We’re going to bring you…”
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>     The Phantom Elevator pressed his remote and ejected the intruders from his pocket dimension. “Bored of you now,” he told them. He turned and stared at the ancient lift shafts on the wall behind him. “Now where can I find a cute blonde co-ed who’s going to go down?” he speculated.
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***

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> Continued…
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> Original concepts, characters, and situations copyright © 2007 reserved by Ian Watson. Other Parodyverse characters copyright © 2007 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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