[Note: This is a review of an early copy of SMILE 4, with updated
comments on the release version at the end.]
R O U G H
B E T A
Windir: Ah, so we are supposed to exhibit sympathy?
Frito: Hah! Fat chance, bubbu! We're writin' dis thing in da middle of a
severe thunderstorm warning, we gotta have fun *somehow*!
Lyra: <Apologetic voice> Well, there really wasn't that much that needed
comments... a pretty smooth segment, overall.
Windir: Tsk. Such a regrettably narrow view of our opportunities, here.
Frito: Spoilsport. Beee-dah!
Lyra: You little ingrate! Boot to the head! <THUD>
Frito: OW! You 'urt 'y 'oungue!
Lyra: Serves you right.
Bubblegum Crisis
Batman: The Animated Series
Frito: <Sarcastic voice> Oooooooh!
Lyra: Oh, hush! <Thwaps him on the head with a Batgirl mask> Behave.
S M I L E
A tale of knights, past and present.
Windir: Ah. Does this, perchance, mean what one might suppose it to mean?
Lyra: You didn't read the mission briefing? You *are* in a foul mood.
Windir: <Wincing> Thunderstorms always give me headaches.
Lyra: Oh. Well, I'll take pity on you: Yes, you've got the Joker coming
back to life; an AI built by Genom, using the Joker's characteristics,
breaks out and takes over a Largo boomer-body.
Windir: <Sighs> Wonderful. You'd think that once was enough for some
personalities.
Frito: Hey, what goes 'round, comes 'round! Hehehe... dis oughta be fun!
Because murder is like anything you take to
It's a habit-forming need for more and more.
You can bump off every member of your family
And anybody else you find a bore
Because it's murder by numbers, 1, 2, 3,
It's as easy to learn as your ABC
Murder by numbers, 1, 2, 3,
It's as easy to learn as your ABC.
- The Police, "Murder by Numbers"
Lyra: <Shudder> I think he's been picking up a few things from "Ill Met
by Starlight"...
:)
Windir: Indeed. Definitely an overdose of Loader and Doenime.
[Somewhere in MegaTokyo, early morning]
Oh, that WAS a rousing perforance last night. Yeeeees,
indeed it was. Nothing like a night at the opera to make a
guy feel good, yeah?
Ah, well, that was yesterday. Time for something new.
A pale face looked in a cracked mirror. Thin red lips
grinned madly.
"Where do you want to go today?" it asked itself.
Lyra: heh. Cute.
Somewhere in its mind, wheels began to turn. A murder?
Windir: 'it asked itself'? 'its' mind? Technically accurate, perhaps,
particularly given the fact that 'face' is the pronoun referent;
nevertheless, I believe that by this point we deserve 'his'; after all, a
face cannot have a mind.
Arson? Maybe a little of both? Defacing property, perhaps?
A prank on the mayor?
Frito: Why not dat Quncy dude, while you're at it?
Lyra: Hush. There are Some Things BGC Characters Are Not Meant to Meddle
With.
Windir: You do know, of course, that this may merely serve as a challenge
to our intrepid author?
Lyra: <Smiles mysteriously>
It was supposed to be Leon's lunch break.
//THIS IS THE A.D. POLICE!//
Frito: Heh. Ain't life a stinker?
Windir: Ah. Ah-heh. This may explain the tornado sirens sounding at the
moment.
Frito: So what, we've got a shelter, right?
Lyra: Um, no, actually; we don't. Um.
Windir: Er.
Frito: <Shrug> Oh, well.
//AND COME OUT WITH YOUR HANDS UP!//
And so he stepped out for lunch, to a small little beefbowl
stand. A simple thing, right? Unfortunately, that's when
the alarm at the bank across the street went off. The
possibility of it being a small-scale robbery was killed
when a passing car was struck with some unknown weaponry and
blown several blocks away by the explosion.
Frito: Whoops!
There was a sudden commotion among the cops, causing Leon to
look up. From the front of the massive glass doors emerged
a man in a suit, a bank worker, no doubt. Leon couldn't
hear what the man was saying, but he was clearly panicked,
his hands raised up frantically, indicating he was unarmed,
and running to the police line. Reading the man's lips,
Windir: This particular sentence is rather long, leading to the
awkwardness of the clause tacked on to the end. I would suggest, as a
minimum, putting 'indicating he was unarmed' into parentheses. An
alternative phrasing might be: "Leon couldn't hear what the man was
saying, but he was clearly panicked; his hands were raised up
frantically, indicating he was unarmed, and he was running to the police
line."
Leon could tell he was screaming 'HELP ME' repeatedly.
This, thought Leon, was good. They were releasing hostages.
Odd, why was the man laughing?
Windir: An ominous portent.
And then he exploded.
Frito: Ehhh, I could see dat one comin' a paragraph back. 5.5, maybe a 6
for gratitut'sness.
It wasn't just a hand grenade sort of explosion. It was an
earth-shaking explosion, causing the windows of the
buildings for a block around to shatter. The officers that
were surrounding the blast didn't have a chance to scream as
the blast slammed into them. Leon's windshield, built to be
bullet-proof and especially resilient, cracked from the
force of the explosion.
Frito: Oh, alright; maybe a 6.5 for property damage.
"He was just... I mean..." Linna sniffled, took a deep
breath, then sighed. "The police have any idea who it was
yet?"
Nene shook her head. "Whoever that was, he doesn't have a
record. Only thing matching is a psycho in Gotham, and he
died a long time ago."
Lyra: OK, granted, *we've* been through all this before. I'd still expect
'em to put a little more thought into it. *Especially* Nene; she's got
more curiosity than that, and she's got the sources to pull up a lot of
info.
"Great, Toshi was the start of a trend," said Linna darkly.
"At least his face wasn't mangled like the bank robbery
victims."
"Mangled?" asked Linna.
Lyra: Not the word I'd use, no.
Nene shuddered. "I've never seen anything like it.
Everyone in the bank was dead, but they had this terrible
smile... I don't know how to describe it."
"This guy's sick."
"Real sick."
Linna narrowed her eyes. "Makes me wish I could suit up
and-"
"Against the rules," said Nene wistfully.
"Yeah, I know," grumbled Linna. "Doesn't mean I have to
like it."
Lyra: This raises an interesting point...
Windir: Indeed. Given the interest in the explosion at the Genom
Development Center --
Frito: Heeey, I thought ya hadn't read da background yet!
Windir: <Blandly> I'm a fast reader.
Frito: Uh-huh. Yeah. Right.
Windir: In any event, given that interest, one wonders whether the Knight
Sabers extant, as it were, in MegaTokyo, would not be investigating the
explosion? I do not recall Quincy or Madigan clamping on top security
after the explosion... and even in the all-too-likely case that they had,
off-stage, nevertheless I would expect Miss Romanova to penetrate that
security to the point of discerning at least suggestions of the events
that took place there. Given that --
Lyra: <Raised eyebrow> 'Miss' Romanova?
Frito: Ha! Windy's sweet on Nene, Windy's sweet on Nene --
<THUD>
Frito: Woaaahhhh! <CRASH... tinkle>
Lyra: Um... <Looking at Windir> That was our chandelier, you know.
Windir: <Looking at Frito> Hush. Now, as I was saying, there is a
significant probability that Miss Romanova and the Knight Sabers have
uncovered at least some of the events occurring at the GDC.
Lyra: Um, Windy, from the bits in Part 3, even Genom isn't sure what
happened there. They just found Dr. Vess in Madigan's last segment in 3,
remember?
Windir: Um. Oh.
Frito: <Crawling back into his seat> Sounds like you ain't such a good
reader on background, Wind- <Cringing> Aw, all right.
Lyra: <Slight smile> And boom goes one promising theory, eh, Windir?
Windir: <Muttered> Never mind.
"Mmm." Nene looked at Linna for a moment, totally silent.
"What?"
"You're becoming Priss," said Nene.
"I know, I know."
Lyra: I thought she was supposed to be the leader? You know, the calm,
sane member of the team?
Frito: Woo-hoo, where you been, sweetheart?
Windir: Reading Bubblegum Crisis fanfics, it would appear. Or not.
Lyra: <Blows Frito a raspberry>
Windir: In any event, while the earlier theory was, ahem, injudicious,
nevertheless the question remains -- given the fact that we, the readers,
know that this storm of nefarious activity is indeed related to the
incident at the GDC, and thus arguably within the province of the Knight
Sabers, at what point shall the Sabers themselves attain enlightenment on
the subject? In addition, once that point is reached, what consequences
shall reveal themselves?
Frito: *English*, I keep tellin' ya, say it in --
Lyra: Japanese? <Wicked grin>
Frito: Whatever.
On the highways of Megatokyo, a sound was heard buzzing by,
a brief moment of noise.
It sounded like this:
"AAAAAAAAaaaaagggh...."
Lyra: Heh.
It was the sound of a boy that felt slightly off-kilter
after a short airplane flight and even more off-kilter
because the motorcycle he was currently riding was going
well over the speed limit.
Frito: Hey, when did'ja sneak in and write that bit, Windy?
Windir: A-HEM.
Lyra: Well, it is a bit awkward.
Sho gave Priss a final scowl just to make the matter clear
and final, then blinked and looked off into the distance
with a puzzled expression.
"Hey, what's that?" he asked.
Across the street, in a large vacant parking lot, a small
carnival was taking place. Circus wheels and
merry-go-rounds spun lazily in the rays of the setting sun.
The sound of children's laughter could be heard in the air.
Lyra: Cue the ominous music.
"Hey, can we have a look at that?" asked Sho.
Priss eyed the mini-carnival warily. She never did like
carnies. Bike gangs, rowdies, punks, and lawyers she could
tolerate, in varying degrees, but not carnies. They gave
her the creeps.
Frito: ACE!
Lyra: Well, if someone with a Scottish accent shows up, carrying a
question-mark umbrella, run. Fast. Then shoot John Nathan-Turner. :p
"I dunno..."
"C'mon, please?"
"They don't look that solid, those rides."
Show frowned. "You're just spooked by carnies."
Lyra: 'Sho', ne?
Frito: Sho 'nuff!
Windir: Shi-ne!
She'd come to the lair of her pursuit,
Frito: Huh?
Lyra: Uh, right. Shouldn't that be 'lair of her quarry'? 'lair of her
pursuit' means the place where her act of searching has been hiding.
Windir: Indeed. I could not have expressed it better myself.
Lyra: <Resigned look> Swell.
and a certain rush in
her veins had told her to press onward.
Lyra: So she's a vampire now? Sheesh.
Frito: Hey, cool! I always wondered why she was such a cold fish!
Windir groans and buries his head in his hands.
Wayne Manor, once a proud landmark of Gotham, was now in
ruins. Vines and other foliage had overrun the place and
choked the gates shut. Only by climbing over the perimiter
wall was she able to enter the grounds.
Frito: Heh, cue da organ music!
She waded in the tall grass, occasionally covering her face
>from the powerful gusts of wind. At last, after struggling
through the tangled greens and violent winds, she came to a
stop near some sort of landmark.
Curious, she examined it.
THOMAS AND MARTHA WAYNE
IN LOVING MEMORY
Lyra: Wait a minute. That was in a *public* graveyard in _Mask of the
Phantasm_, unless they moved it later on in TAS.
She pressed onward, until at last she was at the once
majestic front doors of the manor. Time and nature had
taken its toll on the structure, peeling away paint and
invading with vines and weeds. Even the mocking touch of
man contributed to the defacing of this grand manor, with
obscene grafitti and other marks.
Odd as it seemed, the manor was sealed tight. The doors,
despite their appearance, held fast and solid. The windows
were sealed with brick. She considered climbing the roof to
see if the chimneys were a viable option, but suspected that
those were sealed as well.
Lyra: Hmmm. Protective coloration, ne?
"Lemme get some cotton candy, first. Okay?"
"Yeah, sure, go ahead."
She watched as he ran over to the cotton candy vendor, a
purple-suited grinning clown, joining a short line of
Lyra: <Softly> Uh-oh.
Frito: You ain't better be thinkin' what I *think* you're thinkin', Oh
Mighty Author...
"Yeah, well..."
And so it went that Priss and Pigbog got around to
reminiscing, as adults who've got a bit past their prime
tended to do.
Frito: Heh... you better hope she ain't heard that, buddy!
Lyra: Whose turn was it to check the hospital admissions?
And as all kids tended to do, Sho waited around as best as
he could, but eventually got bored and started wandering
aimlessly about the place.
Meanwhile, in the air around them, the sound of children's
laughter continued.
Lyra: I'm getting a very bad feeling about this...
/* Stingray's. Leave a message after the beep*/
-BEEP-
//It's me. Something big has come up, something with Genom
that I think you'll have an interest in. They've found
Largo class boomers hidden in major Genom sites. So far,
Genom Metropolis, Genom Opal City, Genom Austin, and Genom
Hawaii have found them. Fortunately, they're all just empty
shells.//
//Unfortunately, that's not the worst of the news. Largo
mmight be loose again. That's the rumor around these days,
anyway. Sources say that a fully operational Largo class
boomer was found in the Genom Development Center the day
before it was destroyed. That boomer may have been
activated.//
Lyra: Ah. Here's the connection you were looking for, Windy. I'd guess
it'll hit the fan next chapter.
//No official word from the top, but Genom security is on
red alert.//
//Where are you anyway? It's unusual for you to be out of
touch this long.//
//Get in touch when you hear this message, okay? Fargo
out.//
Windir: I admit, I am puzzled that Sylia did not pass along at least some
indication that she would be out of town. While I can certainly
understand her caution and passion for security, even unto paranoia, she
nevertheless would wish to leave at least some form of contact
information for her most important information sources -- unless, of
course, this is intended as an indication that she has neglected that
contact inquiry due to circumstances beyond her control, to wit, her
exploration of Wayne Manor.
"And so Gaffer said-" began Pigbog on yet another trip down
memory lane, when he was suddenly interrupted by a scream.
Lyra: <Closing eyes> I don't think I want to see this. <Winces>
Frito growls, as does Windir.
Priss whirled around to the source of the scream. "What
the-"
The sound of tearful wails rang out once more, urging Priss
to rush to the scene. She only had to take a few steps,
however, before seeing what was wrong.
Her voice trembling, her knees weak, Priss looked at Pigbog.
"Jesus Christ... Pigbog, call 119."
Pigbog ran to the nearest pay phone, leaving Priss in the
alone with the sight of dozens of children, some twitching
hideously on the ground and giggling weakly, others cold and
still, a hideous grin savagely twisting their faces.
Frito: You bastard.
Windir gulps, and tries to hold his mouth shut.
Lyra: <Eyes cold> You're going to die for this, you know.
In the distance, sirens wailed as they raced to the scene.
Who did this? What kind of sick monster did-
An analytical part of her mind quietly pointed out a
peculiar fact. Each child had, clutched in their dying
grip, cotton candy.
Sho.
Oh no.
Frito: You're really pushin' it, buddy. You ain't just gonna die; it's
gonna be long and *painful*.
Windir: Lyra, are you --
Lyra: <Pulls out earbug> They're on their way.
"Sho! Where are you! Sho!"
Please, God, not him. Not him. He's been through so much
already, it's not fair!
Lyra: <Grim> You got that right.
She ran frantically to her bike, then nearly collapsed in
exhaustion and relief when she saw the boy leaning idly
against her bike.
"Sho!"
She ran to him and embraced him tightly, tears in her eyes
and thanking God that nothing had happened.
"Oh, thank God you're okay. Oh jeez, oh man, Sho, you had
me scared there, kid."
Windir: A reprieve?
Lyra: Provisional. <Glares at the screen> I think he's still got
something up his sleeve. If he's willing to kill kids like that, he's
sick enough to...
Frito: What?
Lyra: Nothing. At least it'd *better* be.
Priss remained sitting on the floor, next to her bike,
taking deep breaths of the cool evening air. She blinked
idly as the wind blew an empty cotton candy cone by.
And then Sho began to giggle.
Priss blinked. "What's so funny, kid?"
And the giggle became a laugh.
"Sho?"
And the laugh became hysterical.
"SHO!"
Lyra: I was afraid of that.
Windir: He dies.
Lyra: No. To the pain. And beyond.
;)
Windir: *Definitely* under a bad influence.
[Gotham]
Having decided that nothing further would be gained that
day, at least not without some industrial strength
construction tools,
Frito: What? No keyhole?
"Odd," she muttered. Sylia pulled out a pocket flashlight
and shone it down below. As she peered within, something
stared back.
-squeek-
"Hm?"
With an irritated screech, something small and black shot
out, grazing Sylia's face and speeding into the cloudy
skies.
"What the..."
Something in the dark rustled, lots of something. The sound
grew in intensity, rising up from below. With a burst of
noise and a rush of wind, the sky was obscured by a massive,
black swarm. Sylia raised an arm over her face and watched
as a seemingly endless storm of bats flew above her and into
the sky, some from the small hole she'd found, but mostly
>from the other side of the hill.
Well. That was... surprising.
Lyra: Shades of "Mask."
made her way into the cave. A few meters within, it was
becoming apparent that further progress would be difficult.
Frito: And the fribbensnatz is framjammin' with the whoosiwhatsis?
Lyra: Simplify.
She'd stopped when it was apparent that further progress
would have to be on hands and knees.
She would have given up, and was about to, when her
Lyra: Too many 'She's'. And should be 'given up -- and had been about to
-- when her searchlight had caught something interesting.
Windir: <Bemused> Was not grammar correction my duty?
Lyra: You'd flower it up too much. Right now, I feel like
mad-and-to-the-point. <Glares at the screen again>
Dead. Dead. Dead. The fuckin'sonovabitch is dead.
Frito: <Sharpening a shiv> Ain't just him, baby.
Priss repeated this mantra over in her head as she stormed
out of the hospital. Her face was twisted with agony and
anger, eyes red from the tears she'd cried and hands
clenched in fists of rage.
Over thirty children dead.
Twelve in critical condition.
The image of Sho's face, lips twisted in that hideous grin,
flashed in her mind and she roared at the heavens in
outrage.
This bastard was going to die.
As soon as she found out who it was.
Lyra: <Softly> Oh, we *know* who's number one on the target list.
<Predatory smile>
//Nene, It's me.//
"Priss? Wha-"
//I'm in a hurry,// said Priss angrily. //I need info.//
Windir: Hmm. Given her sense of purpose, I would think she would be in
more of a cold fury at this point.
Frito: Like miss blue-eyes over there, yeah.
Nene stared at the static-riddled image on the screen.
Despite the line noise, she could see Priss was a mess.
Her eyes were bloodshot, hair undone, and her voice was
trembling.
//Tell me, you got any sickos recently that dresses up
like a clown? Tall, skinny, green hair, purple suit?//
"Are you okay, Priss?"
Priss punched the camera. //TELL ME, DAMMIT!// she roared,
causing Nene to flinch and wince.
Windir: Now, the outburst at this point is completely in character.
"O-okay! Lemme think!" Nene chewed her lower lip nervously
and mulled. "Green hair, white face, purple suit, huh?
There's a guy matching that description that's been going on
a rampage. Wiped out a bank, killed several officers-"
Windir: Granted, Priss was not present at the earlier meeting;
nevertheless, there is rather too strong a sense of deja vu, here.
This was not good. Nope, not good at all. Last time Priss
was like this she swiped her powersuit and stormed Genom.
There was only one thing to do.
-riiiing-riiiing-riii-
//Hello?//
"Linna? This is Nene. I think we've got a problem..."
Frito: No kidding.
Lyra: They aren't the only ones. <Cracking knuckles>
The word on the street had led her here, to this abandoned
carnival ground at the edge of the city. A dilapidated
tent, torn and soiled, flapped in the wind. The skeletons
of roller coasters loomed all around. With loud and rusty
squeaks, the ferris wheel slowly swayed.
Windir: Ah, the characteristic venue.
No Knight Sabers. No renegade boomers. Just her, all the
ammo and guns she could carry, and one dead psycho.
"Come out, come out, wherever the hell you are," whispered
Priss, her handgun held ready. "You sick little fuck."
"Well, what have we here! Company!"
Lyra: And the characteristic response. Though I wouldn't mind seeing a
little stage business about how he says it: is this his maniacal croon,
or his exuberant-slap-on-the-back?
>From the top of a distant rollercoaster, a narrow figure
stood arrogantly.
Priss wasn't in the mood to talk. She didn't want to know
why. She just wanted him dead.
"Die!"
-BOOM-
The Joker wobbled uneasily for a moment, then straightened
and laughed. "Boy, we got a live one here!"
Frito: Do tell.
"SHUT UP AND DIE!"
-BOOM-BOOM-BOOM-
"Nyah-hah! Missed me! Catch me if you can! HAHAHA!"
The joker leaped down from his perch, disappearing into the
Windir: 'Joker'.
darkness. Priss pulled night vision goggles over her eyes
and stalked after her prey.
:)
Linna couldn't sleep.
Things were going downhill fast, and she wasn't able to
contact Sylia. Leon was hospitalized. Priss was missing.
Sho...
When Nene found out about Sho, she was in tears, and was
still in tears as she told Linna. Together, they visited
the boy in the hospital, and came away from the experience
shaken. The ward was full, bed after bed, of hideously
grinning children on the edge of death.
Frito: Alright, so he's alive. Maybe we'll just make it quick 'n painless.
Lyra: <Stands at his side, and puts a hand on his shoulder> Maybe. And
maybe not.
Windir: <Stands at his other side> Indeed.
She prayed that Priss didn't get herself killed, and hoped
that she killed the bastard.
Linna couldn't sleep.
Frito: Yah, like we ain't gonna sleep neither.
Windir: We have... other... things to do.
Lyra: <Ker-chunk> Yup. Catch you later, we have a job to do.
The three march out of the theatre, silhouetted against the light from
the door.
***************************************************************
On 8/27/98 12:53 AM, RPM - acct 3/5 at rpm39788@Bayou.UH.EDU wrote:
Bubblegum Crisis
Batman: The Animated Series
S M I L E
A tale of knights, past and present.
--------------------------
Part 4: Descent
--------------------------
[Ah. Well, I see he survived.]
The three file back into the theatre, taking seats at the front.
Windir: For the moment. We were, ah, persuaded to present a softer line
and allow the author to continue.
[Uh-huh. He got the guard towers back up, then?]
Lyra: <Sigh> Unfortunately.
[Can't win 'em all, Lyra. Want to see how it finally turned out?]
Frito: <Shrugs cynically> Couldn't hurt.
I'm your boogie man
That's what I am
I'm here to do
Whatever I can
Be it early morning
Late afternoon
Midnight
It's never too soon
- KC & The Sunshine Band, "Boogie Man"
Lyra: Ack.
Windir: Eh?
Lyra: Now I've got "Boogie Fever" running through my head, and it's all
*his* fault. Aargh.
Windir: Indeed? I did warn you of the repercussions of indulging yourself
with the soi-disant 'nostalgia' revival of the decade of the 1970s.
Lyra: <Sighs> Yeah, yeah, right. You never know when someone's going to
do a "That 70s Show" crossover. <Sticks her tongue out at Windir>
Frito: <Aside to Lyra> Um, you don't wanna get him talkin' on dat,
remember? He goes fruitcakes when someone mentions Freddie Silverman,
remember?
Windir: Silverman? <Feral look> Silverman?!? Where? <Glances quickly
around the room, body tensing> WHERE?
Frito: <Quickly> Ah, nothin', nothin', Windy! I was just tellin' her
about dat new book with da droid 'bot Silverside, from Illegal Aliens?
Windir: Oh. I suppose the world is safe, then.
Frito: Ayup. <Meaningful look at Lyra>
Windir: Hmmm. In any event, I am not at all sure what to think of the
change of opening themes. While the original 'Murder by Numbers' was more
than a bit macabre, any use of a disco song -- let alone the group of
sadists laughably known by the cover name of 'Bay City Rollers' -- is
evil, highly dangerous, and risks the summoning of Cthulu.
Lyra: <Smiling uncertainly> Um... you're joking, right?
Frito: I wish. You read Jimbo's story yet?
She waded in the tall grass, occasionally covering her face
>from the powerful gusts of wind. At last, after struggling
through the tangled greens and violent winds, she came to a
stop near a statue of two people.
Curious, she examined it.
THOMAS AND MARTHA WAYNE
IN LOVING MEMORY
Lyra: Hmmm. Well, the statue's better than the tombstone, but it seems a
bit... ostentatious? I dunno.
/* Stingray's. Leave a message after the beep*/
-BEEP-
//It's me. Something big has come up, something with Genom
that I think you'll have an interest in. They've found
Largo class boomers hidden in major Genom sites. So far,
Genom Metropolis, Genom Opal City, Genom Austin, and Genom
Hawaii have found them. Fortunately, they're all just empty
shells.//
//Unfortunately, that's not the worst of the news. Largo
might be loose again. That's the rumor around these days,
anyway. Sources say that a fully operational Largo class
boomer was found in the Genom Development Center the day
before it was destroyed. That boomer may have been
activated.//
//No official word from the top, but Genom security is on
red alert.//
//Where are you anyway? It's unusual for you to be out of
touch this long. Hope big bad Gotham didn't throw a nasty
surprise at you.//
//If anything else important comes up and you're not around,
I'll go ahead and notify your second as agreed. I've
already left her a vidmail with the information I just gave
you.//
//Get in touch when you hear this message, okay? Fargo
out.//
Windir: Ah. This indeed covers one of our original objections, that it
seemed... highly unusual... that Sylia would leave the country without
providing some means of contact for her teammates left behind, so as not
to deprive them of one of her important methods of support. And, indeed,
some of the added monologue is nicely witty. Nevertheless, the wording is
awkward in spots, particularly in the section about the vidmail.
Lyra: <Snerks> Well, the 'big bad Gotham' bit is nice, ne?
"And so Gaffer said-" began Pigbog on yet another trip down
memory lane, when he was suddenly interrupted by a scream.
Lyra: <Queasy look> I... think we'll skip this part.
//I'm calling you for information, not a counseling
session,// sniped Priss. //Now do you know or not?//
Lyra: 'sniped'? 'Snapped' would sound better, I think.
The whimsical sound of a pipe organ floated in the darkness,
somewhere in the distance. Priss tried to ignore it as she
stalked through the abandoned park.
The flicker of lights and dancing shadows from the big top
drew her attention. She walked to the closed flaps of the
tent and entered.
What greeted her within was far from expected.
Windir: Ah. I believe the author had stated his dissatisfaction with the
original confrontation between Priss and the Joker, and this section is
his response. I must admit, it does have a certain substance lacking in
the original.
Broken and twisted boomers were marching within the main
circle in a bizzare little dance. Some were fairly solid,
others were a hodge podge of parts welded together. One
boomer was nothing but a skull and three arms, another had
three heads, an armless body, and hopped about on one leg.
They were all laughing, though a bit mechanically, and their
faces were all twisted into smiles.
Windir: Unfortunately, not all of the images were felicitous. In
particular, this scene moved me but little; there was, unfortunately, no
particular emotional reaction for me.
Lyra: <Shrugs> Different strokes for different folks. Didn't do a lot for
me, either, but I'll give him the benefit of the doubt.
Priss shuddered. "What the hell is this?" she muttered.
As if they heard her, all of the misshapen creatures turned
towards Priss, lurching slowly and menacingly with their
twisted smiles.
"Oh shit."
She opened fire, taking aim at the 'skulls' of the lurching
monstrosities. Sparks flew as some bullets ricoched off of
their metal cases. An icy sort of calm came over her, and
she focused on aiming for the skulls.
Frito: TARGET PRACTICE! <Pulls out a BB gun, grinning gleefully>
"Oh, now that wasn't nice!" echoed a a whimsical, cackling
"Oh my, she seems reeeeeeally mad! Tell you what, let's
play a game. Games always cheer me up."
Priss whirled uneasily, handguns aimed outward, as she heard
a rustling in the shadows.
"But what game?" echoed the Joker's voice. Priss' nerves
were abuzz with panic. She couldn't pinpoint where he was.
"Ah! I know!" crowed the Joker merrily. Suddenly, Priss
heard footsteps rushing up from behind her. She whirled
around, only to get shoved aside roughly, knocked off of her
feet and tumbling a few feet. With her vision spinning, she
caught a glimpse of purple streaking towards the tent's
exit.
"TAG! HAHAHAHAHAA!"
Frito: Hah! Go GET 'EM, PRISS! WOO-WOO!
Lyra: <Smiling> Heh.
Windir: Ah, so you have forgiven our author?
Frito: <Face darkening> ...maybe. If he puts dis guy through da wringer.
"So what's your story?" he asked. "Did I kill your
boyfriend? Give your daddy a permanent grin? Or maybe
you're one of those vigilante types, hm?"
Windir: Hm. Now that I consider it, the third question there seems a bit
awkward... stilted, even.
Frito snickers.
Lyra: <Grins wryly> Pot. Kettle. Black.
Priss looked around at the reflections, then gave up on
subtle tactics and began shooting all the mirrors.
*BLAM*BLAM*BLAM*BLAM*BLAM*BLAM*
"Oooh, all those broken mirrors. You're _really_ gonna have
some bad luck soon."
Lyra: Heh. Nice line. *Classic* line.
*BLAM*BLAM*BLAM*BLAM*BLAM*BLAM*
"Believe me, I know. HAHAHAHAHAHAA!"
*BLAM*BLAM*BLAM*BLAM*BLAM*BLAM*
A hand reached out from behind and grabbed her on the
shoulder.
"Taaaag!"
She whirled around, bringing her guns to bear on a
grinning blood-red smile, a deathly white face.
The image before her recoiled slightly at the touch of the
gun barrel on his face.
"Whoops! I forgot, it was your turn to tag ME," said the
clown merrily. "Guess I lose this one, huh?"
"DIE!"
Windir: Heh. I must admit, even with the certain air of cheap slapstick
pervading the scene, it is still quite well done; a solid entertainment
value, even.
Lyra: Uh-huh. I suppose you hated Ruthless People, too.
Priss guns thundered as she shot him at point blank range.
The Joker's head snapped back violently, bent at a sharp
angle.
And then his head snapped back up. White skin, blasted away
by the gunshots, gave way to bright chrome. Gone were the
maniacal green eyes, replaced by blood red lenses.
"Aheh... aheheh... now THAT hurt."
Priss' eyes widened in shock.
Frito: Whoopsie!
A cold, sinking feeling washed through her.
Priss was in trouble.
She'd seen that attack before.
This was a boomer.
Like Largo.
She was without armor, without any weapons that would dent
him, and nobody else knew where she was.
Frito: <Softly> You ever have one a' *those* days? Yah, I been there.
A few years ago, she would've drawn her remaining guns and
gone down in a blaze of glory.
Instead, she ran.
Or she tried to.
The shards of mirrors that had cut her legs were a problem,
and so was the bleeding.
"Aw... shit."
And that cold feeling wasn't just fear, she was experiencing
blood loss.
The world dimmed and flickered around her, and she felt her
consciousness slipping away. She could barely see his face,
his grinning, mocking, death mask of a face, above her.
"Now what am I going to do with this new toy, hmm?"
Lyra: Uh-oh.
Priss thought bitterly, just before losing consciousness,
that this was a really stupid way to die.
Lyra: Cute. Good last line, anyway.
:)
end part 4
:)
Frito: Just keep on laughin', funny boy. You better pay off, or we're
gonna collect. I don't care *what* you got for guard towers, we got ways.
Windir: As much as I regret the necessity, I find myself forced to agree
with you. This version is, indeed, a promising improvement over the rough
beta, and has earned the author a reprieve... a *short* reprieve.
Lyra: Waiting for the next part?
Windir: YES.
Travis Butler
(The Professor, formerly of Myth and Magick!, Lawrence, KS;
tbutler@tfs.net, now from the Wandering Powerbook;
<http://www.tfs.net/personal/tbutler/>;
Mac page <http://www.tfs.net/business/tbutler/>)
...Argue ideas, not personalities.