🚀 go-pugleaf

[Continued From Part Two!]

        The trooper standing watch at the front entrance looked down at the
list. "I'm sorry, but I don't see a Ms. Christina Tolavitz listed."
        The blonde bombshell wrapped her cat-o-nine tails around the
nervous trooper's neck. "I ain't listed by that name.  Look under Tina -
Two-Way."
        "A-a-h, yes. Ms. Tina... the radio `personality'. How silly of me.
Here you are. And I believe these are your dates?" He motioned to the long
line up tall, muscular Arabian men.
        Tina smiled. "Yes, chaps, chains, and smiles. I believe in dressing
up for the occasion."
        "Yes, I can tell that," the trooper said. "I must admit, I am, if
nothing else, impressed.  I didn't know that sequins came so metallic.
        "These ain't sequins. It's chainmail."
        "Really? Chainmail nightgown?"
        Tina nodded.  "Barbwire boost-e-yae too, but someone sent me a list
of cock-o-mamie rules saying I had to dress."
        The trooper began to sweat a bit more.. "Yes, I see. Well, I was
also asked to tell you to leave all weapons at the door."
        Tina grabbed him and yanked him forward. With a heavy sigh into his
ear, she growled, "My whole body is a weapon, teenie.  Loaded, cocked, and
sights set. Wanna guess my new target?"
        "Please, miss, I'm only paid minimum wage. I've got a family!"
        Tina laughed. "I've got a few. Now show me to my seat and get me a
beer and a trough of water for my boys, and wipe that confused look off
your face. You look like your dad at your birth announcement." She paused.
"And, if possible, seat me with this guy- Mad Planarian... Planeterium...
something like that."  She stood erect to show everything.  "Thinks he can
ride the Tina Coaster, huh?"
***
     On the street outside the massive edifice of the Beanstalk several
people were shoved aside as a flare of Edit blazed, depositing an Author, a
Muse, a cat, and four people. In the intervening time, they'd gotten a
premature glimpse of the Pink Iguana Tavern, a *very* short trip to Nympho
Beach (which GC got out of REAL quick), 230MONTHDEADFISH, and
000AIRFRESHNERS, in order to counteract the last.
     "Did we make it?" Kevin (the Muse) asked, as they shoved their way
through kibitzers and into the front door.
     "No idea," Kevin (the Character) answered him. The two lookalikes
exchanged wry (and somewhat female-flesh-blitzed) grins.
     Sven checked his watch. "Yup.  Still half an hour before the fun begins."
     "Yuck," Marv said. "I smell like Country Garden."
     "You'd rather have rotting halibut instead?" Kevin the Muse asked.
     "Hey, dude, it woulda saved us seats." Kevin rolled his eyes.
     --mmm, rotting halibut.-- Ninja commented, thumping the ground as she
loped behind.
     "Oh bloody," Cantata said. Sven looked just in time to see a passel of
armed raccoons charge after them, looking either peeved or wanting to get
in GC's consortium. The critters apparently had second thoughts upon seeing
Ninja lick her chops, however, and wandered over to another elevator.
Unfortunately, the Slackers, Kevin (the Muse) and GC had to share theirs
with a detachment of Deadheads from Planet X, none of whom had apparently
washed recently, so this wasn't much of a boon.
***
   Mickey and Astatine ducked behind the buffet table.  Astatine
immediately grabbed a plate and began piling on cheese balls and nacho
chips, but Mickey pulled her down under the tablecloth. "Hey!" she
exclaimed, and then continued to fill her plate with all the food that
people had accidentally dropped on the floor and kicked under the table.
   "You can eat later," Mickey told her. "Right now we have to change into
our costumes."
   "Why? Is there a crime going on?"
   "No," he said patiently, "there's an awards ceremony going on, and
AquaRegia is nominated for two big-time awards."
   Astatine blinked. "But I'm AquaRegia, aren't I?"
   "You are once you put on that costume. This is going to be so cool! We
get to mix and mingle with the cream of superguy society, pick up a few
tips, and maybe even come home with a Golden Grunion!"
   "Yay! Those things are filled with chocolate, aren't they?"
   "Um... maybe. Just put on the costume, okay?"
   "Okay."
***
     "So!" Mighty Guy exclaimed, as he walked down the ramp of the recently
landed Star Yacht. "This is the Beanstalk!"
     "It certainly is," Badass agreed as he, Mighty Guy, and the other
members of CalForce (and assorted friends and allies) gazed up at the
orbit-high structure that loomed against the Canadian night sky like...
um... like..."
     "Something big!" MeltDown suggested.
     "Something phallic?" Criticalman asked.
     "Something that leads to a golden goose and a giant who is so
desperate for a drink he'll even settle for the blood of an Englishman,
even Keanu Reeves dressed up as Johnathan Harker?" Mighty Guy asked.
     "Er," Shadebeam commented.
     "Hmm," Symon Andro purred. Next to him, China Kyoko ignored the sight,
instead straightening Paginini Noyae's tuxedo.
     "This narrator's nominated for Best Narrator?" GLADYS asked.
     "You know, off somewhere on continuity-land, we were headed off to
visit this very structure," Spatial K noted.  "Perhaps we've already been
there. So why don't we remember seeing it before?"
     "You ask too many questions, grasshopper," Manny Seconds told him.
"Let's get in there and have some drinks before the show starts."
     "Do you suppose Akane will be here?" Laura McCavish-Laffalot asked.
     "Why?!" Shadebeam asked, a bit jumpily. "I mean... um..."
     "She's dead," Chalandra noted.
     "This is true," Hal noted. "On the other hand, this *is* out of
continuity."
     "Well, there's out of continuity," Microvax said, "and then
there's...hello."
     "Hi, guys!" Radian exclaimed, as she stepped out from behind a bus.
"How do I look?"
     "Pale, dressed in black, fangs... like you, I guess," Willwarp said.
"So, um..."
     "In case you're wondering, ARCANA let me time travel from the past so
I could attend the awards ceremony," Radian said, while looking around
distractedly. "Remember, whatever you do, you can't let me know how it
turned out. Otherwise, that would destroy the delicate fabric of the
space/time continuum and we wouldn't want that to happen, now, would we?"
     "*Snrrrk,*" Andro, China and Shadebeam simultaneously fought to hold
back outbursts of amusement.
     "What?" Radian asked.
     "Oh, nothing, mother," China said. "Just reining in our..."
     "Emotions," Shadebeam prompted.
     "Indeed!" Mighty Guy exclaimed, clapping Andro on the back, sending
him hurtling towards the Beanstalk's main ground-level entrance. "Many was
the time when I have had to use my Mighty Ability of Self-Control to
restrain my Mighty Strong Feelings in order to save innocent lives! Why,
once, I had to leave a Lassie film right at the part where she was about to
save a boy who was trapped in Dead Rock Canyon, so that I could save a bus
load of commuters who were about to hit a small dog! The ironic part being
that my rescue attempts often ended in Dead Rock Canyon, even though they
started in downtown Los Angeles!"
     "That's really... something," Galaxy Hunter said. "Can we go in now?"
     "I guess," Manny said. "Hey, Ak-- where'd she go?"
     "Over there," Badass noted. They saw Radian running toward where
another group of superguys were standing. One of the superguys broke away
from the group and started running towards her. Both were moving in slow
motion, despite the fact that people were walking by and around them at a
regular pace. Finally, the couple embraced and kissed.
     "It's Ramrod," Criticalman said. "How sad this must be for him, since
he knows what her fate will be."
     "He don't look too sad," Chalandra replied.
     "There's something very odd going on..." Microvax mused. The team (and
friends and allies thereof) paused to ponder the oddness of the scene that
was unfolding (save for those few among them who knew the truth of the
matter). The attempt didn't last long, as they soon realized that pondering
Ramrod and Radian's relationship for any significant length of time would
have them vomiting in the azaleas. Thus, they elected to head for the door,
getting into the structure just before the Swedes arrived.
***
        A shiny back limousine pulled up to the red-carpeted entrance way.
Tony Steelwood, cutting a dashing figure in his sleek black tuxedo topped
with his maroon silk Legend cape and mask, stepped out of the driver's seat
and handed both the keys and a sizable tip to the waiting valet. The
remaining doors opened and the rest of his team clambered out.
        "Is this it? Are we there yet?" Mary Agnes, wearing a dark green
velvet bodiced dress with a taffeta skirt, twirled excitedly in her shiny
black Mary Jane shoes.
        "Yes. Kitten, we're finally here!" Cory wrapped his tail around her
shoulders as they made their way up the carpeted walkway lined by cheering
spectators. Although everyone was wearing their mask, Cory was the only one
of the Guardians of Rectitude to come in complete costume, in honor of his
nomination as Best New Hero, and had spent most of the day currycombing his
costume until the fur shone under the lights.
        "Goody! We're gonna WIN, I just know it!" Mary Agnes boasted.
        "Remember, hon, it's an honor just to be nominated," cautioned
Liberty Richards, taking Tony's arm. She wore a long dress of emerald green
silk and had even put on make-up and earrings in deference to the occasion.
Behind her Judy, clad in a short red-sequined cocktail dress, shuffled
through her index cards.
        "I can't _believe_ I told them I'd present tonight! I'm so NERVOUS!!"
        "You'll do fine, kiddo," grunted Ludge, tugging on his tie. He had
managed to squeeze his bulk into the same powder blue, ruffled-shirt tuxedo
he had worn to his senior prom in the mid-70's, and, since he had insisted
on topping the outfit off with his mirrored riot helmet, he now resembled
the proverbial bull in the china shop. "So, when do we eat?" he asked as he
lumbered his way up the carpeted walkway, his mammoth feet leaving distinct
footprints in the red velvet plush.
        Ahead of them, near the entrance way, a minor scuffle erupted. Two
women, one a petite brunette, one a redhead well over six feet tall, were
screaming hysterically and trying to climb their way over the velvet
roping, only to be pushed back by a couple of burly STOP bouncers.
        "It's HIM!!! It's the Grey Leopard!!!! EEEEEEE!!!!!" Their escort,
a handsome neuroscientist in full dress army uniform, tried to restrain
them.
        "Carolina! Marilee! Bitte, ladies, restrain yourselves!" he pleaded
in a thick German accent.
        "But Gyorgy, he's so... he's so.... Oh, I think I'm going to
faint..." The red haired woman swooned in the young man's arms.
        "Mein Gott, Marilee, ich bin ein married man!!"
        "So what?" sighed Carolina. "I'm a married woman!  Doesn't mean we
can't look..." She gazed longingly at the young feline, and drooled on the
velvet roping.
        "Who are _they_?" asked Mary Agnes as they passed.
        "A few of our Author's loyalest readers," answered Tony.
"Scientists, all of them, so they have quite a bit of steam to let off, I'm
afraid."
        "I know the feeling," mused Liberty.
        "Why did the two women look so familiar?" wondered Judy.
       "Your friend Marilinalou, the suicidal Titans reader, is a partial
composite of them, the third part being our Author herself, " explained
Tony, handing their ticket to General Anaesthetic and proceeding into the
doorway amid a flurry of flashbulb flashes. "This, I suppose, is their way
of wishing us luck."
***
     Commodore Amiga, Ensigns Martin and Stoner, and DM, their
author, were seated at a small table in the corner.
     A waiter approached them, wielding a bottle of Chardonnay;
Amiga refused the proffered wine. "Sorry, I can't hold it like
I used to..." He snapped his gaze to the tall, blue-
eyed teenager, who was scribbling notes into a small memo pad.
"When the Hell (TM) did we decide that, you little punk?! I want
a drink, and I want it now!"
     DM held up the memo pad. "Had the idea just now, Commodore.
If you like, I can erase that part until the awards are over..."
     "Ahh, don't bother," Amiga muttered as the waiter took his
leave. "I just hope you get us figured out soon, kid... this
constant state of transition is no fun."
     The teen-ager paid no attention. He was deep in Authorial
thought.
     "Of course! Why didn't I think of that before?" he whispered
to himself, and entered an inspirational frenzy, scribbling line
after line of background information and personality traits.
     "Ooog," moaned the almost-sexagenarian sailor as the new
load of exposition played havoc with his digestive system.
"Excuse me..." He dashed off to the restroom.
     Victor unclipped the amplifier from the mass of dental work
jammed between his lips, cutting off the light jazz program that
had been coursing through the device's speaker. "You know, Amiga's
got a point. We only started in October... you haven't had much
*time* to develop us. It sure was nice of them to nominate you for
Best New Author."
     "You're absolutely right, Vic," DM replied, dabbing at his
drool-bespeckled notebook with a spare napkin. "Given that time
frame and the talent we were up against, I can truly say that
it was an honor to be nominated. And I'm saying that now because
no one will believe me if I say it after the award's presented."
     "Whatever, DM," chuckled Stoner, his gaze fixed somewhere
across the room as he finished off a box of raw blueberry Toasty
Tarts and pulled another from that same place where Clark Kent
keeps his clothes when he's wearing the Superman costume. "Now,
y'all are gonna have to excuse me... I've got some huntin' to do!"
He ambled across the room to the Task Force Aurora table, near
which stood a tall woman in trenchcoat and mirror shades.
     Stoner cleared his throat, and opened with "Hey, there.
Care for a Toasty Tart?"
     Wishstar glared over her shades at him.
     "I am offering," he continued (somewhat) suavely, "the chance
to sample the finest toaster pastry known to man... with luscious
blueberry filling, no less. Mmmmmm....."
     "...and frosted with the kind of snow you don't find on the
ground, right? No dice," she replied icily. But Stoner could no
longer converse. His vivid description of the pastries had
inflamed his own cravings, and he'd already begun tearing into it
in a wild frenzy of shredding and drooling and snarfing.
     Several seconds later, her comment reached his brain, and
he looked up indignantly. "Hey, baby, I don't do the frosting
thing. You've got me confused with Hugo."
     Wishstar grabbed a handful of his uniform (plucking several
chest hairs with it) and pulled him to her.
     "Listen, sailor-boy, you look like a nice kid so I'll say
this once. Call me 'baby' one more time and you'll have a jock-
itch of epic proportions, got me?"
     Stoner nodded weakly.
     "That could have gone better," he admitted as he returned
to his place at the TACA table.
***
     Taking full advantage of the Neutrality, the assembled forces of the
Unimaginable League Amoral strode into the Auditorium from the wide
hallways of the Beanstalk. "Impressive," Psybernet said quietly.
     "Indeed," the Crimson Crowbar intoned woodenly, "when we achieve our
destiny and conquer this pathetically unprepared world, we shall have to
take especial care not to damage this truly remarkable engineering feat."
     "Makes sense," Arsenal said. "Besides, an orbital skyhook's going to
come in damn damn useful."
     "Indeed."
     "Looks like a good turnout," Nimbus said. "Everybody who's anybody is
here."
     **Almost,** Stigmata thrummed in a disturbing yet compelling way. **I
do not see any sign of our erstwhile compatriots/current blood enemies, the
Awe-Inspiring Force. Perhaps they have been shamed into not coming?**
     "That seems odd," Egoiste said. "While we are clearly the more
powerful organization, even now that Lady Awe-Inspiring's strength and
leadership has restored them to their former glory and beyond, they *have*
been nominated, and I should expect they would appear."
     "Furthermore," Psybernet agreed, "they certainly had better exposure
over the course of the year. Their series was excellent, and the Death of
Andy Awe-Inspiring has to be one of the most epochal moments--"
     "I expect they'll be along," the Crowbar intoned woodenly. "In the
meantime, let us settle and get drinks. I believe the floor show is about
to start."
***
     "I think this invitation is forged!" General Anaesthetic yelled.
"There's no way the Grunion Committee would invite such a nondescript putz
such as yourself to this, the social event of the season!  Go away! And
take the loon here with you!"
     "Inter lasagna with cheese rubles," Dadaman said.  "Prawn!"
     "Both Dadaman and I have preregistered for the event," Manman
explained, in a tone of voice that would make William Frakes (coincidence)
seem operatic in expression by comparison.  "I happen to know many of the
heroes in that room."
     "Yes, but do they know you?"
     Manman paused to reflect on the question.
     "Never mind!" the General bellowed. "Get ou--stop that!"  He pulled
his hand away from Dadaman, who had been painting the General's fingernails
a bright neon red. Dadaman scampered under the General's legs and into the
cavernous auditorium, while Manman shrewdly pretended to go one way then
quickly reversed course and went the other way, faking out the General and
every STOP Trooper nearby. In fairness, it only worked because neither the
General or the Troopers thought he was worth stopping.
     "Oh, boy, we're next!" Mighty Guy exclaimed.
     "I'll do the shouting, here!" Anaesthetic yelled. "Your invitations!"
Calforce (and friends, allies, plus a woodland mammal or two) presented
their invitations.
     "You'll see that they're all in order, General!" Mighty Guy exclaimed,
causing the walls of the reception area to quake.
     "Don't you tell me what I'll see!" Anaesthetic bellowed, causing the
windows to quiver dangerously. "I don't care how big a hero you are outside
this room, in here, you have to answer to me!"
     "Indeed!" Mighty Guy yelled, sending several STOP Troopers in full
Tornado armor flying helplessly out said windows. "I fully respect your
jurisdiction in this area, as Bore-All is my father, and Lawsya is my
mother!"
     "These seem to be in order!" Anaesthetic screamed at the top of his
lungs, setting off multiple alarms and shattering delicate sensor equipment
in the suits of those Troopers who managed not to be blown away by Mighty
Guy's exclamations. "Have a good evening!"
     "Thank you!" Mighty Guy responded, leading his team (and allies and
friends and mammals, all of whom were holding their ears) into the
auditorium. Anaesthetic watched him go past, and nodded with respect.
     "Now *there* goes a real superguy," he said. "Good lungs!"
     "What?" a nearby Trooper asked.
     "I said, good lungs!" Anaesthetic yelled.
     "Sir, I'm going to have to file a complaint if you keep talking about
my buns," the Trooper said.
     "Never mind," the General said. "Next!"
     "Whaaaat?"
     "Next!!"
     "Whaaaat?" a crowd of twenty or so Swedes, and one or so Janice
Hoffiser, asked.
     "I said... NEXT!"
     "Not on the first date!" they replied in unison.
     "Dowh!"
***
[Continued In Part Four!]