🚀 go-pugleaf

     Dianna put her face in her hands, rubbing her temples and trying to
ignore the sinus pain.  "I was ready to accept what was coming to me," she
said through her fingers.
     "Well then," her attorney said, sipping from the snifter of brandy he
held in his hand, "it's fortunate you retained my services, since now you
won't have to."
     Dianna dropped her hands into her lap and stared at Nouveaux Skunk.
"You're mad," she said.  "I don't have a prayer in Hell (tm) of winning this
case."
     "Well, with an attitude like that, you're probably right.  Our advantages
in this affair are nebulous, but they are there.  The Masked Bruce, whether he
realizes it or not, is our primary advantage.  Trashman appreciates competence
and control.  Discipline.  The Masked Bruce's obvious emotion in this matter
makes it certain he will irritate Trashman."
     "And the other two Counsels?"
     "The Dash and Mighty Guy?  They're pro-forma.  They're there because it
says they have to be in the Code.  Neither will buck any decision Trashman
makes.  I doubt they'll do more than ask an occasional token question.
Trashman's the key player in this.  We need his goodwill if we're going to get
anywhere.  If he plays this Napoleonic, we're dead."
     "What do you mean?"
     "The Napoleonic Code?  It's the French system.  It's a lot different from
our system of justice.  There, the Judge takes an active role in questioning
witnesses and is charged with actively pursuing the truth.  If Trashman does
that, we might as well work up a letter of resignation, because there's no one
in the business who could crack him."
     "Will he?"
     Nouveaux Skunk looked thoughtful.  "No.  No he won't.  At least, I don't
think so.  He's playing this to an American Audience, so he'll play it as
though he were an American Judge.  It will make for better drama, and that
will put a better spin on the affair, from a public relations point of view."
     "That's cynical."
     "And accurate.  Another snifter?"
     Dianna shook her head.  "When you gave me the handshake, I thought I
would faint."
     "I realized.  I had to decide if the shock value of your not knowing what
I would do would outweigh your potentially revealing our connection."
     "Well, next time skip the shock value.  I'd like to know before a
Fraternity Brother jumps in to save my skin."
     "That, my dear, takes all the fun out of it."
     Dianna looked out the window.  "I didn't think Alpha Psi Omega was still
interested in me."
     "Dianna my dear sister -- Fraternities, especially covert ones, never
stop being interested."
     Traffic was thick.  There were a lot of news crews out there now.  "I
don't know why you're doing this," she half-whispered.  "How can you prove me
not guilty when I *am* guilty?"
     Nouveaux Skunk seemed to turn the question over in his mind several
times, choosing his words and swirling the cognac in his glass.  "Dianna," he
said finally, "are you under the impression that guilt is absolute?  Or the
impression that guilt or innocence has a thing in the world to do with winning
a case in court?"


                               The Adventures
                                   of the
                        Adjusted League Unimpeachable

                                 Episode #77
                         "Origins Volume the Fourth"
                  "Knights in Blue Spandex Part the Second"
                                     by
   Eric, Lord Sabre, who was stupid enough to move in with creative people


     Dianna entered the small room with some trepidation.  It was her office.
She had begun setting things in piles to be packed up and shipped back to
Washington D.C., following the Adjudication.  She hadn't expected it to go
past the preliminary hearing, but Nouveaux Skunk had changed that.  He and
Alpha Psi Omega.
     She sank behind her desk.  Despite the fact that there were only two more
days before the beginning of what the press had already started calling "The
Trial of Spandex Babe," she didn't have anything to do.  Nouveaux Skunk was
chasing down different leads and lining up witnesses.  And Dianna?  Dianna was
supposed to sit and wait.
     Normally, she'd be catching up on paperwork.  The problem with being
Executive Officer, the Second in Command, was that you got all the crap
paperwork jobs so that the Commanding Officer was free to command.  That was
all fine and good, if you expected to be the Executive Officer for more than a
week.
     By this time the following week, this would be the Masked Bruce's office.
Unless he decided to keep his own office, in which case this office would get
shut down.
     Dianna slipped her desk drawer open, and lifted out a microcassette
recorder.  It was heavy in her hand, though she could lift fifteen tons or
more.
     "JOEL," she said.
     <<Yeah?>> the terminally relaxed AI replied.
     "Full privacy mode, whenever you see me talking to this recorder."
     <<Sure thing.>>
     Dianna rewound to the beginning.  There wasn't much point to whatever was
on the tape before being saved.  She looked at the small black machine for a
long moment, before hitting the record button.
     "I'm not sure how to begin," she said quietly.  "So if anyone ever
actually listens to this, please forgive me if I'm rambling.  Maybe I should
start with what it was like, as a member of the Industrial Revolution.  What
it was like, working with Bulletproof.  Listening to him.  Believing in him."
     She paused for a few seconds.  "Then again, maybe I should explain what
the Hell (tm) I'm doing first."

                                   * * * * * *

     "What the Hell (tm) is she doing?"
     "Mike, calm down."  Jane West Garrick-Allen was massaging the shoulders
of her boyfriend.  Usually, he rubbed her shoulders, since her powers didn't
ever let her truly relax.  She had offered to do his today.  She had taken his
silence as a sign that he wanted her to do it.
     "I can't figure this out," he said, as though she hadn't spoken.  "Why
does Dianna want to drag this thing out?  There's no way in Hell (tm) she can
win, you know."
     "I know that," Jane said.  "But if she wants her day in court, she
deserves her day in court."
     "It's so damn *selfish* of her," Mike snapped.  "Why can't she just let
us put this behind us.  Does she want to break the A.L.U.?  Does she figure
she should take us down with her or what?"
     "Mike, I don't think she's--"
     "I mean, does she think I like this?  Does she think I'm some kind of
robot that can just absorb emotional shocks and keep on running?"
     Jane didn't say anything.  She hadn't ever seen Mike like this.
     "Well, if she wants all this dragged out, she's got it.  If I have to
bury her, then that's what I'll do.  It wasn't my idea, Miss perfect
Potentiate, but I can play hardball too."
     "Shh, come on Mike.  Let's go to bed."
     Mike glanced over his shoulder.  "Wha- oh, thanks Jane.  That felt really
nice."
     "Sure."  Jane let Mike go.  She slipped under the covers to the bed they
shared.
     Mike looked at Jane for a long time.  Finally, she arched an eyebrow.
"Yes?" she asked.
     "Nothing.  I... I wanted to watch you for a while, that's all."
     "Like what you see?"
     "Sure.  There's something about pink pullover dorm nightshirts that drive
me insane."
     "Oh really?  That sounds promising."
     "Does it now?"
     "Mm-hm."  Jane smiled coquettishly... with a little fear in her eyes.
     "Jane," Mike said, "we don't have to--"
     "Shh.  It's late, and you need your rest, right?"  Her eyes didn't
suggest she was talking about sleep.
     Mike leaned closer and kissed Jane.  Her arms slipped around his back,
and Mike let himself sink into the warmth of the embrace--
     He pulled back suddenly.
     "Mike?" Jane asked, startled.  Her reflexes were superhumanly fast, of
course, but while being under the influence of the Knopler effect in Mike's
room she could be surprised.
     "Jane, I... I can't.  Not right now.  Not with all this going on.  I...."
     Jane suppressed a sigh.  "Of course," she said, not unkindly.  "Come to
bed.  We really can just sleep.  The magic moment can wait until we're both
ready, all right?"
     "Yeah -- I mean, yes we can, but... uh, I need to, you know, get some
work on the case done.  You know, the case...."
     "I know," Jane said.  "The case."

                                   * * * * * *

     Elizabeth Tirkoff rummaged through her closet.  She had her full wardrobe
shipped from Los Angeles after agreeing to accept the position of A.L.U.
Academy Commandant.  She hadn't realized how useful having all her clothes in
Boston would be.  She was just lucky she had been forced by Chalandra to buy
some stylish clothing -- dinner with a well-known multi-billionaire called for
something better than a maroon business suit and skirt.
     Dinner.  An honest to God date.  Who would have thunk it?
     There was a knock at the door.  Elizabeth glanced at it, letting her
perceptions reach through the door, finding the psychic patterns beyond.
     Elizabeth controlled her tremble.  She knew that this moment would come.
Would they confront her?  Hate her?  What had happened since she left?  "Just
a minute!" she shouted, throwing on her Blackwatch Tartan L.L. Bean robe.  She
turned her back and tied it, saying "JOEL, let them in."
     The door opened, and Elizabeth turned to face MeltDown and Mighty Guy.
"Hi," she said a little breathlessly.  What if they resented--
     "ELIZABETH!!!!!!" Key Li Pan shouted, jumping forward and giving
Elizabeth a rib-aching hug.  "Oh it's good to see you again!  It's been
forever since we talked!  I've missed you so much!"
     Key stopped then, and held Elizabeth at arm's length.  "You're blond,"
she accused.
     "Yeah," Elizabeth said, holding up a few curly blond strands.  "I thought
it was time for a change."
     "It looks good, though the brunette was nice, too."  She looked
thoughtful.  "Weren't you a redhead when we first met?"
     "Back when you were a psychotic killer?  Rad #9?  Yeah -- well, auburn.
Then I went to black for a while, and then brunette.  I just thought I'd
change again, see what blond felt like."
     "Cool."
     Mighty Guy cleared his throat, waiting for a chance to cut in on the two
friends' reacquaintance.
     "All right already," Key said, looking up at the ceiling.  "I was getting
to it."
     What?  What do you mean?
     Elizabeth leaned close to Key.  "We don't talk to the Narrator in
`Adjusted League,'" she prison-whispered.  "You're probably rattling him."
     She is not.  I'm perfectly fine.  Just startled is all.  Talking to the
characters.  Hm.  I have no problem with that....
     "Sorry," Key said.  She then stepped back.  "Kent, go get her."
     "HEALER!!!!" Mighty Guy shouted in a Mighty Shout.  He scooped her up and
*almost* hugged her, before Elizabeth sent her most powerful psi-commands
ordering him to set her down and remember having hugged her in the first place-
-
     "It's a wonder you guys haven't talked to him.  Someone should explain
the run-on sentence rule."
     Shut up, Key.
     "Oops."
     "It's good to see you too, Kent."  Healer smiled a bit.  She should have
realized the Californian Way had no room for resentment.
     "So how have you been?" Kent asked.  "Are they treating you well here?
Do you like it?"
     "I like it a lot.  It's nice, not being a full-out Superguy but doing
important work."
     "Yeah -- I thought about taking a vacation, but decided eight months of
being out of continuity was enough for me." Key said.
     "Hey -- I have an idea!" Mighty Guy shouted.  "Why don't we all go out to
dinner?"
     "Um... I'd love that Kent, but, um... could we make it tomorrow?"
     Key's eyes bugged.  "Liz... do you have a *date*?"
     Elizabeth nodded, blushing.
     "That's great!  With who?"
     "Bru -- Trashman.  You'd know him as Trashman."
     "No way!"
     "Way!"
     Mighty Guy's eyes popped halfway out of his head.  "Could you excuse me,"
he said.
     The two girls nodded and he left the room, smiling.
     "So are you two, like a couple?"
     "Like that, yeah."
     "So how is he?"
     "What do you--"
     "*You* know what I mean," Key said, a smirk on her face.
     Elizabeth blushed to her ankles.  "Pretty phenomenal," she admitted.
     "He looks it.  Man, someone finally brought down the bad boy."
     "Now Key -- this can't leave this room, all right?  I mean, Trashman's
not comfortable with his private life becoming public, you know?  And I'd
rather not blow this relationship before it gets off the ground.
     "Hey, you *know* you can trust my discretion."

                                   * * * * * *

     "Hour four of Radio Free Hero, and just wait until you hear this folks.
Max just handed me a fax from our Boston Affiliate -- yup, the same Affiliate
bringing you the behind the scenes action from the Trial of Spandex Babe.
According to a highly placed source at the A.L.U.C.H.Q.M.O.U.S.E. -- now, we
aren't a gossip show, but wait until you hear who's been playing `hide the
salami' with who.  I swear, it'll make you think of your parents."

                                   * * * * * *

     Dianna paced the small room.  "You see," she said into the recorder, "no
one here knows that much about me.  Not even Dani, and she's the closest thing
I have to a relative on this planet.  In so many ways, I'm alone.  Now more
than ever.  And... I want them to know.  All of them.  I want them to know who
I am, and what I am, and why... why I made the choices I've made in my life.
     "But if I try to tell them now, it'll seem like a play for sympathy.  A
shot at avoiding my fate.  And I don't want that -- not at all.
     "So... so I guess that's why I'm recording this.  Not to get away with
anything, or to try to make excuses... but so that my family... my friends
will understand me, after I'm gone.  Because I know I'm going to lose this
case.  I *should* lose this case.  And after I lose it, they'll bounce me.
Period.
     "So where to begin?  How do you begin something like this?  How do you
distill your life onto microcassettes and not have it sound like a bad
confessional novel?"
     Dianna paused the tape and poured herself a cup of coffee from the pot
she kept handy.  She drank it black, though she usually had Amaretto flavored
cream and sugar in it.
     She clicked the cassette back on.  "I guess I start back as early as I
can go.  I guess I let it all out."

                                   * * * * * *

     "Come."
     Bruce Rogers was working on his corporate portfolio.  He hadn't had much
opportunity to work with it during the incidents in Dark City, and with the
trial looking to be more involved than he had wished, he had to grab what
business time he could.
     The door opened and Mighty Guy swaggered in.  He looked like the cat who
ate the canary.  In fact, he looked like the canary who had avoided getting
eaten by the cat.
     "Kent.  Hello -- come in, please.  I've meant to thank you for
participating in these--"
     "You sly dog," Mighty Guy said smugly.
     "Excuse me?"
     "You... sly... *dog*" Mighty Guy said again, chucking Bruce on the
shoulder and spinning him painfully around.
     "I'm afraid you have the best of me, old friend," Bruce said, clutching
his desk and waiting for the floor to stop moving.
     "Suuuuure.  I have to admit, I was wondering if, you know, there were any
sparks between you and Dianna all this time, but Healer.  My my my...."
     "Ah," Bruce said, regaining his composure.  "So you've heard she and I--"
     "You sly *dog!*"  Mighty Guy gave Bruce a quick, manly one-armed hug.
     "Kent... need... those... ribs...."
     "Now Bruce," Mighty Guy said, releasing Bruce and letting him gasp for
breath.  "There are things that I think we should talk about, you know.  Man
to man."
     "Things?" Bruce gasped.
     "Yes.  Things.  You know," Mighty Guy said in a superior, confidential
tone of voice, "I know a few things about a few things."
     "Do you?" Bruce said, shaking off the effects of Mighty Guy's affection.
     "Oh yeah.  In fact--"  He looked both ways, before leaning close to
Bruce.  "You know MeltDown?"
     "Yes."
     "We've, you know.  Gone all the way."
     "Really?  I'm shocked." Bruce said unconvincingly.
     "Oh yeah, oh yeah.  Lots of times.  So, as I said--"
     "You know a few things about a few things."
     "Right.  Now Bruce -- I know you've had a long hard life of fruitless
obsession, so I think there are a few things we should talk about, you know--"
     "Man to man, I heard.  I assure you, Kent, I am fully familiar with the
birds and the bees."
     "The what?" Mighty Guy asked, "I was talking about sex, not botany."
     Bruce closed his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose.  "Of course you
were, Kent.  Forgive the interruption."
     "Anyway, I just thought you should have this."  He pressed a foil packet
into Bruce's hand.  `! Brand DefenseCo Condoms' was written on the outside.
     "Thank you, Kent." Bruce said.
     "No trouble, no trouble.  You know, it's easy to be embarrassed about
such things."  He looked suave.  "You know, my first time, I was, well, a bit
nervous."
     "Of course you were," Bruce said.
     "Sure sure sure.  It's just natural, you know.  But better safe then
sorry, right?"
     "Right.  Um, I really need to get some work done, if you don't mind."
     "Not at all, not at all.  And remember, Bruce.  If you need to ask any
questions, please, feel free."
     "I will.  Thank you."
     "Of course."  Mighty Guy chuckled and snickered.  "You sly dog."  With a
wink, he left.
     Bruce sighed, opened his desk drawer, and dropped the foil packet next to
the ones Trudy, Jane, Mandy and Eric had given him.  He tried to push the
drawer shut, but it hung up on the box of `French Ticklers' Mike had dropped
off.  Clearing it up, he closed and locked the desk.
     "Why can't secret affairs stay secret," he wondered aloud, before
settling back at his desk.  He was terrified that Danielle would be next.

                                   * * * * * *

     Nouveaux Skunk hung the telephone up.  He had lined up the necessary
witnesses that he knew he would be calling, and had developed the disclosure
statements.  Everything was ready.
     Well, almost everything.  He had to be certain his client wouldn't lose
the case herself.  That was probably going to be tricky.
     But he would manage it.  He always did.


CAN NOUVEAUX SKUNK MANAGE IT?
HOW?
WILL DANIELLE DROP BY FOR A SERIOUS TALK WITH TRASHMAN, TOO?
WILL ANYONE ELSE HEAR ABOUT THE RELATIONSHIP?
WHAT'S THE STORY WITH IT ANYHOW?  WHAT HAPPENED IN DARK CITY?
WHAT'S SPANDEX BABE DOING?
WILL THE CASE DRIVE MIKE AND JANE APART?
IS THIS THING BEGINNING TO SOUND LIKE A SOAP OPERA?


Well, I don't care if it is.  You can just read Superguy and make your own
decisions.